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#and he got to know this even if it took him a while to really accept it
chastiefoul · 3 days
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jjk men coming home and finding you crying
ft. gojo, geto, nanami, toji fluff and comfort
gojo satoru
you wiped your eyes quickly as you heard the door opened. you took a deep breath, making sure your voice didn’t come as shaky as you said, “welcome home, toru.” with a big grin and the usual paper bag filled with sweets on his right hand he planted a kiss on your head. “i’m home baby.”
you were just about to let out a sigh of relief when satoru suddenly knelt in front of you who’s on the couch, blindfold off as his blue eyes stared as if seeing right through you. “what’s wrong?” he said softly, his knuckles brushing over your cheek with such a careful gesture. “what do you mean?” you tilted your head, cringing inside at the bad feign. “you can’t fool my six eyes, baby. also what kind of boyfriend i’ll be if i can’t even notice when my girl is sad?”
you tried to form a sentence to say as an excuse but the kisses he peppered across your face wasn’t really helping. you chuckled as you whine softly, “toruu.” the white-haired man cupped your face, a gorgeous smile on his face. “my favorite sound, baby,” he said, kissing your lips. “tell me? pleaseeee.” you laughed once more at his emphasis at the last word. “it’s really nothing, toru.”
“i love listening to nothing. we even have some sweets here as snacks,” he said, opening the paper bag excitedly. “i think you just want an excuse to eat it at 8 pm,” you raised an eyebrow, as he grinned. “nonsense, baby. now c’mere, let me hold you while you tell your story.” he put you between his legs, your back resting on his broad chest comfortably. you sighed out of wonderment, thinking how you could be so lucky, being this loved by the man.
“here, pick whatever. this one is my favorite,” he rummaged through the bag that’s on your lap. you looked at him with fondness as his face leaned in beside you to see better. “yeah? you’ll give me your favorite?”
“there’s nothing in the world that you can’t get, baby.” he kissed the side of your face. “now start from the very beginning.”
geto suguru
“if you thought you were doing a great job hiding those tears i have some news for you sweet girl,” geto’s voice was gentle on your ear as he wipe the wet residue underneath your eyes with the inner sleeve of his robe. “i wasn’t really hiding it,” you frowned, somehow not liking the fact that he noticed your little moment of weakness. “yeah? so you were just rubbing your eyes all rough like that for no reason?” he gave you a little smile.
yeah, it was a battle you had lost from start.
he put his arms around you, rubbing your back in a soothing pattern. “what’s wrong baby, everything okay?” you melted right into his touch, resting your head on his chest right on the calming beating of his heart. “yeah, it’s not really a big deal,” you mumbled, your low spirit was really affecting him more than he would ever let you know. his hand kept moving as he once again kissed the side of your head, a low chuckled escaped him. “you’re cute when you think you have a choice on telling me what had upset you.”
you laughed softly at his playfulness, knowing full well to you’ll end up telling your boyfriend everything. “you’re right. but can i tell you later?” you asked, wanting just this peaceful moment to last just a little longer as you held him tight.
“’course baby, got all the time in the world for you.”
nanami kento
nanami already knew that something was off when the house felt a little quiet as he arrived. and then he found you hunched over as you stood behind the kitchen counter. “honey?” you wiped your eyes with what you thought was the speed of sound but it was clear to both of you that you had been crying. “hi ken, how was work?” you replied with a small voice, a smile nanami didn’t particularly like plastered on your face; only because it seemed forced.
“oh no, we’re not breezing past it. come here my love.” and his embrace enveloped you like a dream, all warm and perfect. he stroke your hair ever so softly as he whispered sweet nothings. when you calmed down a little he sneaked a hand under your jaw, rubbing his thumb on your cheek gently, a gesture with amount of love you could only guess. “what’s wrong, hm?” he questioned you, his eyes shone with adoration; there’s only you in that moment.
“i’m okay, ken. more importantly aren’t you tired from work?” there’s a deep crease between the blond’s man eyebrows he heard you say this, as if that was the most offensive thing he had ever heard from you. “’more importantly?’ there could be nothing that’s more important than you, dear,” he said, knowing that concern was from a good place, like he was worrying over you, of course you would fuss over him who just came home from work.
“still…” you hesitated, but he kissed it out of you quickly. “want me to prepare you a bath, love? you know i can get the perfect temperature for you,” he whispered, coaxing you. and he was right, even sometimes he would get it right more often than you. before you could even mumble out another excuse he continued. “and while you do that i’ll prepare dinner, okay? i’m sure there’re still some ingredients left to make that nice meal you like.”
“no, i couldn’t possibly let you do all the work ken-“
“love, i’m here. you can relax, okay? you always do so much for me, let me do this for you,” he reassured you, cupping your face as he trailed your cheeks with soft kisses. you’re still not convinced, as he smiled over your great concern. “do this for me, please?” he tried once more and there’s no way you could refuse that. you nodded, feeling another wave of tears coming out of gratitude for your boyfriend., “thank you ken, i love you so much.”
“i love you too. and when you’re ready to talk, i’m here okay? always.”
toji fushiguro
he lifted you up, your leg instinctively wrapped themselves around his waist as he grabbed both of your thighs to support you. you tighten the hold of your arms around his neck, resting your head on your shoulder, nuzzling closer to his neck; not wanting him to see your post-crying face.
he sat you on the kitchen counter, putting both of his hands on the hard surface, on either side of your body practically refraining you to run away. “what’s wrong pretty girl?” he asked you who’s currently staring at the fingers on your lap as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world. he kissed your shoulder blade, intentionally lingering a little long to hopefully calm your nerves. “nothing, i guess,” you answered nonchalantly, like detaching yourself. “you’re shit at lying babe, you know that right? look at the frown that you’re wearing right now, it’s almost touching the floor,” he said as he kissed your neck next. “mean,” you meant to frown, and you realized you were already doing that for the past hour. fine, maybe he had a point, so what?
“nah, what’s mean is when my girl won’t even tell me what made her upset,” he said, tilting his head confidently, his big hand on your waist as he rubbed your side. the look on his face was enough to make you relent. “fine… you’ll force it out of me sooner or later anyways,” you mumbled as he smiled, knowing that you needed a little push is all to sound your worries. “atta girl.”
“tell me all ‘bout it yeah? don’t leave out a single detail. then maybe if you’re up for it, i can show you that i got many ways to cheer you up,”
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ariestrxsh · 3 days
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🖤 content warning: 🖤 smut, heavy step sibling kink, brutal face fucking, breath play, dacryphilia, degradation, humiliation, light praise, roughdom!stepbro!chris, bratty!stepsis!reader
🖤 author's note: 🖤 this is not incest!!! the characters are step siblings. i'm aware that it's still morally grey for some people. totally get it. if you don't like the concept, don't read it bc it will literally be impossible for you to forget they're step siblings. 😭 i just need rough dom stepbro chris more than i need air in my lungs. (this joke will be even funnier to you after you read this fic if you do.) and last thing: sorry x100 for writing this lmao. and a super big sorry to anyone who's on my taglist who didn't wanna read this.
🖤 summary: 🖤 after arguing about whose turn it is to do the dishes, you and your step-brother chris decide to have a breath-holding contest, but there's only one way chris can be sure that you're playing fair.
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holdyourbreath
"So, are you going to do the dishes before my dad and your mom get home?" Your eyes darted up at Chris, your disgusting new step brother, from across the room while you were curled up on the living room floor next to the dim lamp with a warm blanket and a good book.
"Are you fuckin' with me, kid? I thought it was your turn to do the dishes," Chris replied smugly, glaring at you from his gaming chair as he sat in front of the TV, mindlessly playing some dumb Modern Warfare whatever number they're on now.
"I did them last night," you responded defensively, your voice becoming shrill. "Yeah, and I did them two nights in a row before that. What's the big deal?" Chris snapped back, rolling his eyes at how whiny you were.
You resented how hard-headed he was, especially because you were hard-headed, and there was only room for one stubborn person in this house.
His mom had met your dad about six months prior and three months into knowing each other, they eloped, and now you were stuck living under someone else's roof with an obnoxious, gross, smug step brother who never carried his weight around the place and made everything everyone else's problem.
You weren't the type of person to use the word hate lightly, but you hated Chris.
"Chris, can you please just do the dishes? I'm busy. I'm right about to reach the climax in this book," you responded in an agitated and slightly desperate tone. "Well, I'm busy, too. I'm about to go climax after this game," Chris chuckled at your word choice.
"Ugh, you're disgusting!" You slammed your book shut, shooting him a look of contempt. "Sorry, princess. Did I ruin your climax?" Chris smirked, motioning towards your book and biting his lip.
You almost got up and just did the dishes yourself, because you knew they needed to be done, and despite how much you didn't want it to be true, Chris was perhaps, even more hard-headed than you, but you had an idea.
"Let's settle this like adults. Breath holding contest. Whoever holds their breath the longest doesn't have to do the dishes tonight," you suggested, and Chris gave you a look like you'd given him an offer he couldn't refuse.
You and Chris were both competitive, and contests were often the only effective way to settle arguments between the two of you. Sometimes it would be rock, paper, scissors. Or a staring contest. Or a one-on-one game of basketball. Anything you guys could turn into a competition really.
"Deal," Chris confidently responded, pausing his game and spinning around in his chair until he was facing you. "Okay, on the count of three," you said, setting a stopwatch on your phone, and the two of you both took in a deep inhale before holding your breath as long as you could.
You and Chris stared directly at each other, giving each other dirty looks and sizing each other up, both trying to gain dominance over the other. You didn't really care to stay true to the game and play fair. When you started running out of air, you slowly exhaled through your nose, cycling your breath and hoping Chris wouldn't catch on.
You couldn't let that smug bastard win. After all, it was his turn to do the dishes, and your book was way more important than his stupid video games.
After the stopwatch hit a minute and a forty-five seconds, Chris' face was turning a bit red. He pinched his eyebrows together and scrunched his nose at you in a look of displeasure, and after about fifteen more seconds of this, Chris let out a long, angry exhale. "Fuck you, you're cheating!" He accused you.
"I am not!" You snarked back, but the way your voice naturally raised an octave or two had even you unconvinced of your own lie. "Bitch, you didn't even breathe out before you said that. And you don't look or sound out of breath at all," Chris replied, narrowing his eyes at you and clenching his jaw.
"I wasn't cheating," you said, avoiding eye contact. "You were, and I can prove it," Chris licked his lips maliciously and grinned at you. "You can prove it?" You said in a skeptical tone, testing him. Chris stood up, slowly sauntered over to you while you were still sitting on the ground.
He peered down at you with a darkness in his eyes as he started unfastening his belt and unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. "What the fuck are you doing?" You asked, glaring up at him, but your eyes fell and widened when he pulled out his big, juicy dick. It was already hard and the tip was swollen and shiny with a layer of precum.
Conveniently for Chris, your jaw dropped as you studied the way his veins webbed out across the backside of his shaft, and he took this opportunity to grab onto the back of your head and shove his throbbing cock into your gaping mouth. He let out a satisfied exhale and his eyes gently rolled back as he relished in the wet warmth you provided for him.
He held your head in place and forced every inch down your throat until you could feel the hem of his shirt tickling your nose. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone, and he opened the stopwatch function on it. He then placed it into your trembling hand.
"You're gonna hold this for me, you fucking cunt. You're gonna hold it up so I can see it, and we're gonna count together how long you can hold your breath, yeah?" Chris said through gritted teeth before hitting the start button.
Chris' left hand was still tangled in your hair, and with his right hand, he pinched your nose closed between his thumb and pointer finger. "Be a good girl and hold your breath for me," he whispered to you, admiring the way your soft, pretty lips looked keeping his cock warm for him.
"Come on, princess. It's only been fifteen seconds. I know you can keep going since you're so good at holding your breath, right?" He taunted you as he peered down at the tears forming in your eyes.
"Like having your step brother's dick in your mouth? I bet you do. Didn't even put up a fight or nothin', you just let me stick it in," Chris spoke to you in a low, dominant voice that immediately had your pussy drooling for him. "Thirty seconds," Chris relayed, his eyes bouncing back and forth between your pretty little mouth and the stopwatch.
"Fuck, it's so nice to have some peace and quiet around here for once. No bitchin', no complainin', no whinin'. Just the sweet sound of you gagging on me," Chris moaned, gently rocking his hips back and forth and relishing in the soft choking noises that came from you, his belt buckle softly clanking against itself.
"See? Now that's what it looks like when you're actually holding your breath. Forty-five seconds," Chris smirked down at you, noting how red your face was getting from lack of air.
He started to fuck your face a little rougher, still cutting off your oxygen flow, the sound of the metal on his belt getting louder. You could feel his tip grazing that spot at the back of your throat, tickling your gag reflex. You could feel his pretty veins with your tongue as it rested on the backside of his length.
"You like having your mouth used by your step brother? I bet you like when I remind you what I am to you, huh? Does it make you wet? How wrong it is?" Chris teased you, thrusting back and forth, his eyes rolling back into his head as several animalistic moans left his mouth.
You didn't want to admit it, but Chris was right. There was something about it that was so taboo that you couldn't help but soak your panties while Chris used you however he wanted. "One minute. You already look like you need air, princess," Chris taunted you, his jaw slacking as he looked down at the tears rolling down your cheeks. "So pretty when you cry for me," he let out a breathy moan while he threw his head back.
Your heart started pounding in you ears, your palms were sweating, and your eyes felt like they were going to bulge out of your head. You did secretly love choking on your step brother's gorgeous cock, but you really couldn't breathe, and you didn't have the lung capacity for this.
You took your free hand, made a fist with it and started pounding on Chris' thigh to let him know you'd had enough. "Admit you lied and that you like this, and I'll let you breathe," Chris cooed, peering down at you and how desperately you gazed up at him.
You were too prideful. Surely, he'd have to let go of your nose regardless of whether you admitted to it or not, right? You pounded on his thigh again.
"All you have to do, princess, is nod your head when I ask you these next few questions, and I'll let go," Chris said to you slowly as if you were dumb. "Did you cheat during our contest and then lie about it?" He inquired, staring down at your makeup streaking down your cheeks. You couldn't take it any longer. You nodded.
"Good answer. Now does it make you wet? How wrong it is to have your step brother's dick in your pretty little mouth?" He asked in a soft, sweet tone, which didn't match the vile words pouring from his pouty lips. Humiliation welled in you, and you looked up at your step brother in shame as you hesitantly nodded your head.
"That's what I thought," Chris whispered, finally letting go of your nose and pulling his meat out of your throat, eliciting several loud gasping and coughing sounds from you before you started violently panting, desperately trying to catch your breath.
"Fuck, I can't believe you liked that. You're so fucked up," Chris whispered, winking down at you and smiling, knowing he liked it just as much. "You know, while I have you here, I may as well have you finish the job, hmm?" He suggested, searching your face for a reaction.
Desperation filled your eyes while you gazed up at him and slowly nodded. You hated the way he had you submitting to him, and so easily, too, but you couldn't help the way it turned you on to think about your step brother busting all over your tongue.
He grabbed the back of your head again and made his cock vanish behind your lips once more. He gripped onto your hair tightly, controlling your movements and causing your mouth to jounce on his meat. His hips began involuntarily thrusting back and forth while he enjoyed the way you graciously took every inch like you were starving for it.
Your tongue danced around on the underside of his shaft, supplementing the sensations he was already giving into. The way you stared up at him with your lips embracing all his sensitive nerve endings made him melt in your mouth, and his eyes started to glaze over. You could tell he was getting close.
"Fuck, you're such a good step sister. Takin' me so fuckin' well," he whispered in a sultry voice, contemptuously smiling at you. You couldn't believe how much you were looking forward to making Chris finish on your tastebuds, and you felt repulsed with yourself for getting so wet at his words. No matter how much you tried to remind yourself what a disgusting, selfish jerk he was, your pussy was drooling for him.
"What would your daddy think if he knew his little princess were choking on my dick right now while he finishes up at work?" Chris seductictively teased you, feeding your humiliation kink.
You didn't need to use your words to tell Chris how much you liked everything he was saying to you. He could tell by the desperate glint in your eye that lingered as he degraded you.
"Want your step brother to cum on your pretty little tongue?" Chris cooed, his movements becoming more jagged and messy as he fucked your mouth. "You gotta beg for it, princess, or else I won't give it to ya," he snarked back, his lips curling into a devilish grin.
You peered up at him in silence. Of course you wanted to taste his seed as it poured from his tip, but you wanted him to beg you to let him cum, not the other way around.
He roughly pulled you off his cock and leaned down so that his face was only a few inches from yours. "I said beg," he rasped. Fuck, you thought when you realized you'd already lost the power struggle the second you cheated during the breath-holding contest.
Chris wasn't the type to let things go, and he didn't care about cumming if you weren't going to beg him. He'd leave himself unfinished just to spite you. "Please, Chris.." you softly whined while you were on your knees peering up at him, longingly. "Please what?" He inquired, needing to hear you say it.
"Please. I want you to fill up my mouth," you quietly admitted. "Good girl. Say it again. Beg harder," he lustfully stared down at you, hanging onto your every last word, but you thought you'd try one more time to flip the dynamic on him.
"Be a good boy and cum for me," your lips curled into a smug smile, but Chris wasn't the least bit amused. "That's not how this works. You are not domming me right now, fucking bitch," Chris said, taking your hair into his tight grasp again and shaking you around like a doll. "I fucking said beg. And if you misbehave one more time, I'll never let you suck my cock again," he threatened. You hated how effective this was.
"No, no, no. Please. I'm sorry. Please finish on my tongue. Please. I'm dying for it. I need your cum flooding my mouth until it's overflowing. I'd do anything for it," you whined, giving Chris exactly what he wanted.
"Fuck. So easy. Such a good girl for me. How could I not reward such pretty words?" Chris cooed, making his wand disappear behind your pretty lips again like some kind of deranged magic trick.
He rocked his hips back and forth, triggering your gag reflex some more and relishing in the lovely sound of you choking on him. His moans became deeper and more urgent as you took him so well. "Good girl. Get ready for me, princess. I'm so close," Chris breathlessly called out, violently fucking your face while he manipulated the movement of your head, still holding your hair in his tight grip.
His guttural moans echoed throughout the house as his dick throbbed against your lips, emitting a hot, thick, sticky substance onto your eager tongue while he pumped back and forth, savoring every last bit of pleasure. "Good girl. Swallow," he commanded you, smiling down at the way you obediently listened.
"Fuck," he whispered when he was done using your pretty little back-talking mouth. As he tucked his satisfied cock back into his pants, he wiped away a tear that was running down you cheek and softly said, "Now those dishes aren't going to wash themselves, princess."
part two posted here 💖
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lokissweater · 4 hours
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little mouse
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{toge inumaki x f!reader}
summary: toge inumaki, the barista at your local campus coffee shop, is the cutest man to ever cross your life— the both of you clicking fast and becoming the best of friends as the years flew by together… but you were in love. uncertain of crossing that line between friendship and lovers as you focused mainly on trying to see if he even liked you back. but as for toge? he was focused on trying not to burden you for the rest of your life because of his inability to speak, wanting you and only you, but juggling and tormented over his labored silent existence, hurting you in the process.
warnings: MDNI. afab!reader, college!au, FLUUUFFFF SO MUCH, pet names, TOGE LOVES YOU BROOO, angst!!! but with comfort!!, happy ending, SMUTTTT, p in v sex, fingering, creampie, doggy hehe, mentions of alcohol and drinking, sorority party, toge is a barista ouuu, cursing, best friends to lovers trope, reader and toge argue, all characters are aged up.
word count: 15.2k
authors note: YEEEOOOOWWWWW this fic was originally NOOTTTT supposed to be 15k but i’ve said it once and i’ll say it again I CAN NEVA STOP YAPPING MY GOD??? i hope you guys love this one as much as i do though it is SOOOOOO CUTEEE man :(( thank you SO SO MUCH for your love and support as ALWAYS, AND I LOVE YOUUUU AHHH MWAH MWAH HAVE A GOOD DAY OKAY <333
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anyone that was a regular at the shop knew toge inumaki didn’t really ever speak.
and it was something you found out on your first day of college, running to the nearest coffee shop at eight-thirty in the fucking morning looking for something to snack on and wake you up before lecture, choosing to go to the one just around the corner from campus through a recommendation of a friend— but not knowing at all that you were about to run into the cutest man to ever plague your god damn existence, as well as your bestest friend in the entire world.
toge was the main barista and cashier at the shop, his mixology skill incomparable as no one else on the floor could replicate it successfully without errors the way he did— ringing customers up while simultaneously throwing coffee bases and syrups in a blender, topping each corresponding one with whipped cream on various orders before sliding it over to the pick up counter, all without even breaking a sweat through the times that you’ve shamefully watched him work from your little table before or after classes.
the first time you met him, you thought he was just having a bad day… and that he also hated you.
you had politely told him your order while at the same time ogling his handsome face— a small and simple sweet vanilla cold brew drink with a little blueberry scone on the side— when toge didn’t even spare you a glance and just tapped in your order on the screen, turning the tablet over to showcase the total before moving to the back to get started on your drink, not a single word leaving his scarf covered mouth as you silently paid and got a table.
it’s not like you were expecting anything out of it, but you hoped you would at least catch the color of his eyes before you had to leave.
and it went on like that for a total of four days— you saying the exact same order but just switching up the little pastry depending on your mood (it only consisting of your usual three— blueberry scone, cake pop, and cheese danish), toge’s eyes never leaving the register or drinks he made as you waited, and him sliding over your order in record time as he got started on attending the next customer.
on the fifth day, toge finally looked up.
the way he took your order didn’t change, but when it came to placing it over the pick up counter where you stood, your eyes widened when you noticed he was already looking at you, a grin on his face as he personally handed you your drink instead of sliding it over.
his eyes were purple.
and you just about fucking screamed, your days of hopelessly coming in to try and ridiculously take longer peeks at his face whenever you could finally paying off in that moment— and not expecting whatsoever to see the sides of his mouth marked with tattooed snake eyes either.
that day was also the day you noticed toge knew sign language.
most of the time toge took orders quickly without a word and punched in requests, but from time to time when a customer had a question about a menu item or what the passcode to the bathroom was, he always had a little whiteboard next to him with a black marker to scribble out what he needed to say— regulars already knowing how he communicated and not batting a single strange eye.
but on that day, a new customer came in that you didn’t recognize to be a regular, signing to one of the confused employees at the cash register until the employee turned around and tapped toge on the shoulder, pointing and saying words you couldn’t really hear before he quickly nodded and put down the blender he was holding, going over to sign.
you were mesmerized by it, the way his hands and fingers came together and away from each other to form different words and sentences completely unknown to those who didn’t understand the language, something that was beautiful to you and made you want to actually learn so you could potentially have the liberty to talk to him some time in the future if you could.
the next time you came into the shop early in the morning, toge was at the register. and upon seeing you walk in, he smoothly looked down and started typing away already on the screen, seemingly not listening and leaving you standing there confused.
“um—” you stammered. “can i…”
you trailed off as you watched him pick up his whiteboard and uncap the marker, scribbling.
‘i remembered your order.’
you froze, your heart doing enormous leaps considering this was the first time toge actually spoke to you apart from getting your order down and smiling at you.
“oh! really?” you laughed nervously. “…do i come in here too often then?”
he gave you a friendly grin and shook his head, erasing what he had before writing again.
‘do you want a blueberry scone, cake pop, or cheese danish?’
your eyes bulged. “you know that too?!”
he laughed, the sound making your hands clammy as you giggled along with him shyly.
“i’ll do a cake pop today!” you smiled. “i’m running a little late and that’s— easy to eat.. you know—”
he gave you a thumbs up and nodded, signaling with his head for you to wait by the pick up counter as he scribbled another few words, turning the whiteboard around.
‘i’ll see you tomorrow :)’
your cheeks flushed pink.
“y—yeah!” you spoke gingerly. “i’ll see you toge.”
the next few times after that toge would absolutely beam whenever you came into the shop, having already scribbled down your three choices of your usual pastries before having it ready for you at the pick up counter once you chose, even every now and then asking you a simple thing or two about your classes and major from the register as you sat by your table, him propping his little whiteboard up for you to see.
and ever since you saw that toge knew sign language, you wanted to know too, your desire to communicate with him more efficiently a silly priority on your mind as you signed up for entry level sign language courses at your college, trying to learn as much as you possibly could so it’d be easier for him not always having to step back and write.
“wait wait!” you put your hands out one slow morning upon arriving at the shop, toge stopping mid tap on the screen just as he was about to input your order, eyeing you.
your fingers shook a little as you slowly signed your order and choice of pastry for the day, trying to remember and grasp what you practiced repeatedly the night before, hoping your efforts would successfully come across and that you didn’t look like a fucking idiot.
but his focused eyes followed your movements, carefully watching you sign with pinched brows until you eventually finished— a slow pearly white smile spreading across is face as his gaze flickered to yours before writing on his whiteboard, turning it.
‘you know sign language?’
“barely!” you sputtered. “i um.. i started taking classes a couple of months ago but i’m not very good… did you— get it though? what i said?”
he quickly nodded.
‘it was a little choppy but good! good job y/n :)’
you breathed out a sigh of relief, a hand over your hammering chest as you swallowed.
“oh thank god.” you breathed. “i was worried i looked stupid or was accidentally telling you something weird.”
he laughed and waved you off, a slight tint to his cheeks as he wrote.
‘how’s learning it overall?’
“hard as fuck.” you mumbled, but peering up at him with a smile. “i’m trying though! i really love the language and i love learning it… it’s just hard because my professor kind of sucks and teaches it too fast.”
he hummed, moving around in the back while preparing your order before coming around through the little swinging door and over to your usual table, you standing dumbfounded at the register still as he stood there with your pastry and his whiteboard.
toge pointed to your seat.
“oh!” you gasped, walking over and taking a seat, smiling gratefully once he placed your coffee and cheese danish down for you, but stiffening once he scooched the chair out across from you and sat, your cheeks ablaze again.
“you wanna—” you looked at him with furrowed brows. “you wanna sit with me?”
he laughed a little and nodded.
“but the…” you pointed to the cash register.
he uncapped his marker and wrote, turning the board over.
‘it’s a slow day. if someone comes in i’ll just go.’
“oh— okay!” you breathed out nervously, wringing your fingers together as you kept them on your lap.
your thoughts were speeding across every corner of your mind, not knowing exactly why toge chose to sit with you right now but hanging on to the moment anyways, you anxiously trying to come up with things to say to get to know him a little better.
“i like your um..” you pointed to the corners of your mouth. “—your tattoos. did they hurt?”
he smiled and wrote.
‘thanks :) and not really, my throat hurts more than the tattooing itself hehe.’
your eyes snapped up to his.
“your throat?” you asked softly. “is it okay?”
‘oh it’s fine!’ he wrote. ‘well no but it just hurts a lot when i talk so i just don’t.’
you hummed in understanding, the missing puzzle as to why exactly toge never spoke out loud to anyone in the first place finally clicking into place.
“i’m sorry toge…” you expressed sweetly. “have you tried— well i assume you have but… like getting it checked out? or maybe honey with lemon or—”
he turned his board around.
‘yeah :P nothing really works. L for me.’
you giggled, and he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth in a smile.
‘can you show me what else you know in sign language?’
“ohhh this is it.” you swallowed. “you’re about to laugh in my face and think i’m stupid.”
he laughed and gave you a look.
‘you’re silly. just show me.’
you huffed before timidly showing him very basic simple phrases that you managed to pick up from class out of the millions that were shown— short choppy kiddy words that didn’t even serve to get by in a quick conversation, but enough for simple one worded responses.
“oh! and i like this one the most!—” you put the bases of your palms together and rubbed a little.
toge let out a squeaky cute laugh as he watched you before quickly picking up his marker and writing.
‘cheese? your favorite thing to sign is cheese?’
“yeah!—” you giggled shyly. “it’s funnn! and i never fuck it up.”
he nodded with a gleam in his eye.
‘i could teach you sign language if you want.’
you froze, eyes wide as you looked at him.
“seriously?” you quickly leaned forward. “are— are you sure? you definitely don’t have to at all toge… i don’t want to burden you or anything.”
his eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head.
‘not burden at all.’ he wrote. ‘i’m a lazy fart i don’t do much besides this so it’s fine.’
you giggled and nodded excitedly, a hopeful shine in your eyes as you looked at him.
“o—okay!” you agreed. “i’d like that a lot… thank you toge!”
he was so nice.
and just as he was about to write something else, a customer came through the doors and up to the cash register, toge quickly scribbling something down before standing and showing you, walking backwards.
‘i’ll talk to you later little mouse :)’
you laughed loudly, a hand flying over your mouth as you did.
that nickname stuck.
“bye toge!” you responded kindly, gathering your things before heading out for the day with your coffee and pastry.
unfortunately for you, midterm season came and knocked the absolute shit out of you for a week, you unable to go back to the coffee shop to see toge until it was all fucking over, your heart heavy over the fact that you literally failed your sign language test, but giddy and excited nonetheless to finally see him after a while and go back to your usual happy routine.
and as for toge, he was left utterly confused.
was he too forward? did you think it was weird when he called you little mouse? did you think he was weird?
was it something he did? why had you stopped coming into the shop after going in continuously for like weeks at this point?
and he had just gotten the courage to look you in the eye too.
toge literally had your order ready every single day with your three pastries warmed up and toasted if need be, your sweet vanilla cold brew drink ready to go the moment you walked through those doors at any given point and time… but you just didn’t come. him leaning on the register counter bored out of his mind and dejected over the disappearance of the pretty nice girl that always came in and talked to him at his work, ending up always drinking the coffee he made for you silently and munching on the three pastries you chose between when it was time to close.
but when you finally came in, early in the morning like you always did and looking forward to seeing him again— toge was hunched over the counter with his chin propped up on his hand like he had been for the past week, you unknowing of that as you walked over with a smile.
“hi toge!”
he shot up, eyes wide with his palms flat on the counter.
“y/n!—”
he spoke.
toge spoke and he immediately cowered over in a fit of painful sounding coughs that racked through his body, his mouth shoved into his elbow as he quickly pushed through the doors and walked to the back, leaving you there wide eyed and completely fucking shocked.
he said your name.
“toge..?” you called softly, timidly as you leaned over the counter to try and catch a look at him from inside the employee break room, still hearing faint coughing. “hey— are you okay?”
he returned to the floor chugging back a bottle of cough syrup like nothing before tossing it into the nearest bin and swallowing, snatching his marker to write on the mini whiteboard, holding it up.
‘where the fuck have you been?’
you looked at him with an apologetic little face, your eyes soft.
“i’m sorryyy!” you whined. “i’m so sorry it was midterm week for me and i was grinding so hard and i just didn’t have time to come in… it was torture.”
you guiltily bit your lip. “…are you mad at me?”
he shook his head slowly, his shoulders visibly relaxing at the confirmation that it wasn’t anything he did that could’ve potentially put you off.
‘not at all mouse :P.’ he wrote before reaching to the side and sliding over your already made coffee and three pastries, lined up.
and surprise crossed your face.
“you had it ready?” you gasped. “toge! thank you!”
you quickly opened your book bag and he placed a hand over your arm, stopping you and shaking his head ‘no.’
“no?” you asked softly. “what do you mean? i’m just gonna pay.”
toge only shook his head again with a small smile, nudging his head over for you to sit at your usual table.
your shoulders slumped. “now what would you do if i just burst out crying right now.”
he laughed loudly and let go of your arm to write, leaving a burning fuzzy feeling on your skin in return.
‘cry? why?’
“because you’re so nice!” you whined. “please let me pay. i already feel bad not coming in for a week… especially after you offered to teach me sign language.”
‘go sit down mouse. i’ll sit with you in a little bit.’
you begrudgingly stood in place before nodding and taking your drink with your bag of pastries, walking over to the side and plopping down on a seat.
toge had a bit of a rush in and couldn’t join you for nearly an hour, him constantly shooting you apologetic looks and you frantically waving him off and reassuring him that it was okay, you astronomically thankful that you didn’t have class that day until later in the evening.
but when the rush was eventually over, toge dropped down on the seat across from yours with a big tired sigh and his whiteboard, head down.
you gently poked his arm then, and he looked up.
“is your throat okay?” you asked, face serious. “and you?”
he nodded, giving you a warm smile before grabbing his marker.
‘it happens sometimes, i just slipped up. L for me again.’
you smiled sadly and retracted your hand from across the table to settle back over your lap.
“i like your voice… if that makes you feel any better.” you spoke shyly, looking down at your fingers.
toge bit the inside of his cheek and smiled cheekily.
‘thanks mouse… but i know something that’ll make me feel even better hehe.’
“what?” you asked curiously.
he wrote.
‘give me your number before you disappear on me again you little rat.’
“hey!” you whined. “i thought i was a mouse..”
he chuckled cutely and nudged your foot gently from underneath the table, erasing and writing again.
‘i’m just kidding. we need to set up those sign language lessons soon though :D.’
and at the reminder of that you groaned, body slumping over the table as toge eyed you confusedly.
“you’re gonna laugh. or be mad. or disappointed. or all three..” you mumbled, voice slightly muffled.
he poked your head repeatedly and you lifted it, chin resting lazily on the table as he looked at you expectantly.
“i failed my sign language midterm.”
toge snorted but quickly slapped a hand over his mouth, and you whined again before shoving your face back down as he quickly shook you by the shoulders, trying to get you to look up again.
“no no no i’m a disgrace i’m a failure i studied so fucking hard for nothing it’s over i’m not cut out—”
he kept shaking and delicately pinching you before you finally looked up again.
“what.” you mumbled, eyes dragging to his propped up whiteboard.
‘i’m sorry i laughed… but don’t worry you’ll pass the next one. you’ll be okay.’
“and how do you know.” you grumbled.
‘because now you have delicious me, duh :P’
you giggled softly and lifted yourself from the table, leaning back against your chair.
he gave you a warm knowing smile before writing again.
‘cheer up mouse… i promise i’ll help you.’
a slow cutesy grin spread across your face, one that made him swallow hard as you looked at him through your lashes.
“thank you toge… do you— do you work tomorrow?”
his gaze flickered up in thought before he shook his head, eyes landing back on yours.
“maybe we could start… tomorrow? if you’re free? and if— if it’s okay of course!” you stammered nervously, gnawing at your bottom lip as you waited for his response.
his cheeks fluttered pink a little before quickly nodding.
“okay!” you breathed excitedly. “great! we could do it here? or—”
he frantically shook his head no and uncapped his marker.
‘my dickhead manager will pull me to work if i’m here on my day off.’
you laughed and nodded. “okay not here then.. where? we can try my place but i already know my parents are gonna be annoying about bringing a guy over so..”
he smiled and looked down to write.
‘we can do my apartment mouse. i live alone.’
your eyes widened. “you have your own place? really?”
he slowly nodded.
“that’s so cool toge! oh my goodness i can’t wait to see it now!”
you bounced enthusiastically in your seat and he chuckled, perplexed as to why you would ever be excited to see something like that, but choosing not to question it.
‘it’s kind of small, and i mainly just sleep and be lazy if i’m not working or streaming.’
you tilted your head. “streaming..?”
he pursed his lips and looked down again to scribble, an embarrassed undertone to his face before propping the whiteboard up.
‘i play games and stream to earn extra money on the side like a little loser.’
you giggled, your eyebrows slightly furrowing before relaxing. “why would that make you a little loser toge? you’re making money while doing something you like… i think that’s really fun!”
an eager attractive grin ran across his face before quickly writing again.
‘i’m glad you think so :) but give me your number neow.’
“oh that’s right!” you beamed, taking his offered whiteboard and marker before quickly writing down your number with a heart in the corner, passing it back.
“just text me whenever and we can set a time for tomorrow okay?”
he nodded, his eyes trained to the heart you drew.
for the rest of his shift, toge spent it bouncing around between your table and back to the cash register to take orders and make drinks, seemingly finishing each beverage ten times fucking faster than usual just so he could come over and talk to you before you had to leave again for your evening class.
but you didn’t want to leave whatsoever, and you even juggled the possibility of skipping class to stay longer with toge, but the next class happened to be sign language, and you didn’t want to fail another fucking midterm by not showing up and missing material.
you threw your trash away before grabbing your book bag and slinging it over your shoulder once it was time, you slowly and timidly trying to get toge’s attention as you walked to the exit.
your shy raised hand caught his eye in between him blending and pouring drinks, toge quickly putting everything down and reaching for the whiteboard from the register, erasing whatever he had from a previous customer to write and flipping it over with a silly smile.
‘bye mouse!’ it read. ‘i’ll see you tomorrow! :P.’
and that was nearly two and a half years ago, the heart you drew in the corner of his whiteboard still there to this day as he answered questions, responded, or scribbled directions in any given situation with it no matter if it was in or outside of work— always wanting to have a little part of you with him wherever he went.
toge also kept his promise and taught you sign language, you trying so so fucking hard every waking day you spent with him at his cute little studio apartment— learning phrases and properly constructing it into sentences that actually made sense as you both sat sprawled on the floor for hours on end, him patient and kind as he watched you shakily sign and accept his gentle corrections with an open mind.
but although your sentences were continuously choppy and a little off at that point in time, they were definitely in way better condition than when you tried to study and learn it on your own… and toge was unsurprisingly a really good teacher— ten times more helpful than your literal freaking licensed professor whom you had started with, as toge would actually take the time to write and explain each concept in the best way he possibly could for you to understand.
now you were comfortable enough with it to respond in very simple sentences and phrases, but stronger at understanding it whenever toge signed to you, a plus when he clumsily forgot his whiteboard somewhere or when he just didn’t want to use it.
and ever since that first day you went over to his place to learn and study, you literally never went a day without going back again, your cute routine with him being going to his apartment every second of the day to hang out with him or do the things that you needed to do— some that could easily be done in your own space and home and room, but you refusing to for the sole purpose of wanting to be with toge all of the time, him feeling the exact same way and going as far as to giving you a copy of the key to his apartment.
(toge :D): MOUSE
(toge :D): MOUSE
your phone buzzed repeatedly just as you were walking up the steps to toge’s floor, you nearly dropping it over the uncontrollable buzz.
(toge :D): LITTLE MOUSE
(you): YES <3
(toge :D): ouuu a heart?? i didn’t know we were married :P
you let out a giggle and quickly typed a response, your face hot.
(you): mmm i don’t know my ring finger is quite literally bare right now :/ maybe next time!
(toge :D): YOOOOO
(toge :D): it’s because it’s gonna be under your pillow
(toge :D): like from the tooth fairy
(toge :D): a big shiny cock
(toge :D): I MEAN ROCK
(toge :D): ROCK I MEANT ROCK SORRY
you burst out laughing as you readjusted your book bag on your shoulder and turned the corner, nearing his apartment number.
(toge :D): …please still come over
(toge :D): oh wait that’s why i texted you! :P
(toge :D:) WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU
(toge :D): YOU’RE LATE MOUSE
(you): LMFAAOOO
(you): IM COMMINGGGG i’m literally down the hall sir
(you): but now that you yelled at me HMMMM i don’t feel like going today <//3
(toge :D): NO
(toge :D): i’m sorry i’m on my knees
(toge :D): i’m begging
(toge :D): i even brought you a blueberry scone from work
(toge :D): and i’ll buy you whatever you want
(toge :D): FUCK COME OVER NOOOWWWWW
(you): SAY PLEASE AND ADDRESS ME CORRECTLY
(toge :D): PLEEEAASSEEE MOUUSEE
you bit your lip in attempts at suppressing your giddy smile, it not really fucking working as you arrived at his door, pulling your keys out from your bag and shuffling through them to find his— one that had a tiny onigiri design on it.
(you): coming!! <33
(toge :D): so you’re saying we’re married again :P
the door clicked open upon you twisting the key in, stepping inside before closing it behind you while juggling your textbooks and locking it, toge seated on his little gaming chair when he swiveled around and waved at you with a big smile, standing.
“toge!” you gasped exhaustedly, stepping over to him. “you have got to help me please my god—”
he grabbed the textbooks from your arms and walked over to his desk, setting them down before turning back around and giving you a curious look.
‘what’s wrong?’ he signed.
“everything! everything is wrong sign language two is not for the weak oh my goodness gracious—”
you flopped down with your back flat on his bed, eyes shut in agony as he watched you amusedly.
“my professor’s teaching us grammar now and it just gets harder! i don’t know where to properly put anything or— or sign anything.”
he giggled softly and you peeked an eye open, looking at him.
‘i’ll help you mouse.’ he signed, stretching a hand out and you taking it, letting him pull you up to sit as you lazily did so.
“but i ask you too much.” you pouted. “and i feel bad every time i do, especially when you’re playing.”
he snorted, going over to his little dining table and pulling out a chair, lifting it over to his desk gaming set up area and placing it down before ushering you over with his hand.
“nuh uh.” you shook your head.
toge gave you a half lidded look and sat on the dining chair, him always saving his big comfy gaming chair for you whenever you sat with him at his desk since the first time you came over— his eyes expectant.
you deeply sighed and stood, trudging over to his gaming chair before plopping yourself down.
“you don’t have to toge… it’s okay.” you spoke gently. “you’ve been teaching me for like— two years already. my new year’s resolution was to stop bothering you about it and let you live.”
he slid his little whiteboard over and erased what he previously had, uncapping his marker and writing.
he showed you.
‘i’ll always help you and you know that :( and it doesn’t bother me you rat, i do it because i want to.’
or because he’s in love with you. either or.
you giggled and lifted your hand, your index finger erasing over the word ‘rat.’ “—it’s mouusee toge. it’s like you get off on abusing and hurting your bestest mestest friend.”
he laughed boyishly and put down his whiteboard, sliding over one of your textbooks from across the table to him and flipping through several pages, reading to try and see exactly where you were at by the sticky notes you left behind in the margins.
“don’t you have to stream today though?” you asked timidly. “like right now?”
he simply shrugged, turning a page as he reached over to write again on his board.
‘i can stream later tonight—’
he quickly turned it around again to add something just as you had finished reading, him flipping it back over.
‘—with you asleep on my bed. because you’re sleeping over. and that’s FINAL.’
you laughed loudly while leaning forward, your cheeks brewing up a little flush at the request even though you’ve slept over at his place plenty of times before— the thought of him actively wanting you to making your heart bounce around erratically in your chest.
“fuck i don’t know…” you feigned concern. “i’m not sure if i can toge i’m sorry.”
he slumped, eyes so sad that it made you almost sick to your stomach as you struggled to commit to the small bit.
‘why not?’ he signed.
“because i’m missing something.” you pouted.
‘missing?’ he signed again. ‘missing what?’
you snickered.
“my ring!” you extended your hand to him and wiggled your little fingers, you poking the tip of your tongue out to the side cutely. “the one you promised me over text.”
toge breathed out a laugh and nearly dropped dead at your cute expression, him mimicking you and sticking his tattooed tongue out before picking up his whiteboard from his lap to write.
‘i told you the tooth fairy has it :D you have to be patient little mouse.’
you giggled and put your arm down, giving him a stern silly look.
“kayyy thennn!” you dragged, sitting up in your chair and looking over your textbook. “i’ll be expecting my big shiny rock under my pillow in the morning sir.”
he saluted you and you grinned, the rest of the time being spent with toge trying to teach you as best as he could with you hopelessly following along, feeling like the dumbest bitch alive and embarrassed whenever you got something wrong.
but toge never minded, not one single bit— even when you made the same grammar mistake literally three times in a row and him correcting you each freaking time the same exact way, no sign of annoyance or frustration on his face as he worked with you.
and that’s one of the biggest reasons as to why you loved toge so much. since the moment you met him all he wanted to do was just help you, regardless of the fact if you were a stranger or not as he generously always put the things he needed to do aside for you— making sure you were always okay and getting the things you needed no matter how many times you told him he didn’t need to worry, you feeling special and appreciated whenever you were with him no matter what.
you hoped to god he felt the same… and you hoped you weren’t being straight delusional when you noticed the way he looked at you a little longer than he should have at times, or when you read too much into the casual little pecks on your head from him, or when you had told him how much you loved just studying on the floor beside him while he streamed but made a joke that sometimes you couldn’t see because it was so dark in his apartment, toge literally the next day buying you a little flower lily lamp to set and prop up right next to you so you could comfortably study, him laughing and wiping your tears when you ridiculously cried over his consideration.
so did that mean he loved you too?
“toge…” you murmured in the midst of him fixing a signage error of the word ‘before’ with his fingers.
he pointed to your hands so you could take note of the alteration he made, waiting for you to carry on then.
you smiled softly in gratitude before continuing.
“have you ever—” you pursed your lips. “have you ever um… well— actually nevermind—”
he blinked before slowly lifting his hands.
‘have i ever what?’ toge signed, and you quickly shook your head.
“nevermind! it’s okay.”
he gently nudged your foot with his, beckoning you to tell him as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
fuck.
okay if he kisses your head right now then you’ll tell him.
“i forgot toge.” you lied. “that’s why i said nevermind… oopsie!”
he laughed and leaned forward, pecking your forehead before reaching a hand up to ruffle up your hair.
fuck!
no you take it back you can’t do it you can’t—
‘silly.’ he signed, turning his attention back to your textbook and flipping a page.
he wondered what it was, but figured it would come back to you eventually and you’d tell him soon after.
by the end of the day, it was like there was an actual fucking light at the end of the tunnel for you and your sign language two class— you going from being over a thousand percent sure that you were about to pathetically fail the entire course, to having a shiny little sliver of hope because of toge’s ability to get anything through your big head and make you understand, feeling eternally grateful for him in many ways than one.
and you wanted him, so fucking bad, ever since you saw him at the coffee shop, that you thought in that moment while toge set up his bed for you to sleep in while you sat on his desk chair, dressed in his big white t-shirt and pajama pants, that if you just— maayybee tested the waters and crossed the line a little bit without it being too drastic, that you’d get your answer.
but did you want to know? what if he didn’t love you back? what the fuck were you supposed to do then?
cry and wither away, that’s what. you don’t think you’ve ever loved someone as much as you loved toge.
you hear the familiar squeaks of his black marker streaking against his little whiteboard, the sound pulling you from your thoughts and you looked up.
‘you’re so spacey today pretty. are you still worried about your class? :(‘
pretty.
“oh!” you stood. “no toge i feel a lot better about it actually because of you… thank you.”
he grinned, nodding before walking and leaning over his pc to set up his streaming session, mouse clicking away.
“toge—”
he looked over at you with his gorgeous purple eyes and you froze, cheeks heating up as your wobbly lips struggled to come together and fucking speak.
“nevermind nevermind—”
his eyes narrowed, snatching his whiteboard and quickly writing.
‘you did this earlier today too. tell me what’s wrong.’
“no.”
‘no?’ he signed. ‘tell me y/n.’
“no! not my name!” you dived dramatically on his comfy blanket filled bed and groaned. “you only call me by my name when you’re mad and i don’t like it.”
he sat next to you on the edge of the bed and pulled on your shoulder slightly, you fully turning around on your back and looking at him anxiously.
toge wished he could continuously beg you and ask you what was wrong so you’d just tell him— him at times sick of constantly having to pause and make you wait so he could get his point across, a painful fact that never left his mind and made him feel like the biggest burden in your life.
that’s why he never wanted to cross that line you both always seemed to lean over without meaning to. the line that’s kept you both on this limbo of half best friends and half more as he sometimes hugged you a lot longer or snuck in a couple of self indulgent cheek and hand kisses to your skin… but that’s as far as he’d really let himself get. toge didn’t want to permanently have you drag him along in your life no matter how much he wanted to be in it as something way more.
you deserved noise, you deserved loud love, you deserved someone who could actually speak to you— things he mourned over that he could never give you.
and he knew this. he’s known from the moment you walked into the coffee shop the very first time even though you swore up and down that he noticed you later, you unaware that he actually saw you right off the fucking bat on the first day and couldn’t bring himself to look you in the eye— knowing you were going to be the biggest heartbreak of his life and ruin him if he so managed as to let you in when you kept coming back.
but toge was selfish, and he couldn’t help himself.
so he tried to compromise.
there’s nothing wrong with being just friends… right? a casual conversation between two people while he was at work? to then bid goodbye and say hello to every now and then?
except a quick conversation with you turned into ones that lasted almost his entire shift sometimes, and then casual meet ups turned into sleepovers at his apartment when he offered to teach you sign language, and then little hugs of farewell and hello’s turned into him kissing you practically fucking everywhere that wasn’t your mouth with the tightest embraces, him completely going against what he swore he wasn’t going to do and damning himself for life.
and even more so when you had joked about wanting a ring that one day, him actually going out the next day and buying you matching ones even though he didn’t even know if he was strong enough to actually give yours to you.
but toge was still freaking selfish.
because as you looked at him now, your gorgeous face anxious and thought-filled about things he wished you would tell him without worry, the outline and shape of your plush soft lips burning his pupils in such a way that it felt like a privilege, your body in his clothes—
made him want to speak the three worded phrase he was only allowed to say in his sleepy dreams if he was lucky.
“what toge?” you spoke softly, reaching a hand up to delicately card through the front pieces of his pale blonde hair, soft and silky as the outline of his tattooed snake eyes made you a little fuzzy.
he slowly shook his head, a far off look in his eye as he leaned over you, his face close and strained that your eyebrows pinched a little at his expression.
your hand proceeded to gently smooth down from his hair to the side of his cheek, cupping it and caressing over it with your thumb so lovingly that he nearly broke his oath.
if you said that you loved him… he wondered if he would crack. if you confessed and told him that you felt the same way, he juggled the possibility of ruining his own life by giving in and letting you take on the burden of his existence just to have you like he’s always wanted—
“i love you.” you told him.
toge’s big wide afraid eyes stared back at you as you smiled sheepishly, his breath caught in his throat.
“i—” you hesitated, playing with the hem of his shirt. “i really love you. like in the way where i want you to like— kiss me and stuff in your free time…”
he huffed a shocked breath, his face still just alarmed and strained and you started to believe that maybe you actually were delusional and misinterpreted things, his lack of anything making you second guess.
“i’m sorry.” you blurted. “i’m sorry i thought—”
and toge was still selfish as he let his lips fall down and crash against yours, moving so feverishly and hungrily that you couldn’t keep up as he dug his arms underneath you and around before pulling you up flush against his body, wanting you as close to him as humanely fucking possible incase he never got to do this again with you, the possibility horrifyingly still there.
“does this mean—” you spoke in between kisses, breathless. “does this mean you love me too—”
toge broke apart momentarily and quickly nodded, eyes ditzy and clouded as he panted against your lips, drunkenly lowering his head and linking his wet lips with yours again as he sloppily kissed you, laying you back down while you wrung your arms around his neck, you giddy and absolutely fucking enamored with him and that he was finally yours.
except he technically wasn’t… yet…
even when three full weeks had passed.
you still visited toge at work in the coffee shop in the mornings or the afternoon like you always did, ordering the same thing and going in to chat as he wrote his responses on his whiteboard— except now whenever rush hour would conclude, toge would greedily sneak in kisses with you at your table or hold the back of your hand to his cheek as you talked about your classes and your plans for the weekend, his conflicted mind putting his oath on the back burner for now as he tried to relish in the love he’s been wanting for so long.
and you were a little confused as to why toge hadn’t taken the initiative that night and asked you to be his girlfriend, but you didn’t complain, you too caught up in the moment when he would make out with you at his apartment in between study or streaming breaks with his hands literally all over you like a man starved, groping and squeezing at anything he could but never going over that last jump to do something intimate with you, your lovesick mind too in it to care at the moment.
that was the next compromise he made.
if you both just— just stayed this way. no official title no matter how much it pained him just so that he could continue doing these lovely lovely things with you whenever you both wanted, his mind thinking that since you both weren’t technically together that he wasn’t burdening you for life just yet, wanting to keep it this way for as long as he possibly could because toge didn’t fucking know what he was going to do when the time came for making it official.
well yes— he did know. but what he wanted to do and what he should do were two completely different things.
“togeee!” you bounded into the shop one morning, thankful that it was empty as you quickly leaned over the counter and pressed a sweet kiss to his cheek, him smiling wide with a flush to his face in response.
‘hi mouse :) <3’ he wrote on his whiteboard. ‘have you had something to eat yet?’
“i’m good im good! wait i haven’t ate but im good!” you spoke excitedly. “i come with newwsss. really fun news!”
he hummed and nodded, motioning for you to continue as he moved around in the back to get and warm up a breakfast sandwich for you.
“one of my friends from sign language told me she’s throwing a party at her sorority house and invited meee!” you beamed, hearing a little oven ping and then following him to your usual table so the both of you could sit.
toge gently slid your sandwich over upon scooting his chair up, warm and yummy as it sat pretty on a little pastel green plate and him signing ‘eat please’ as you grinned.
“and i know you told me once that you’ve never been to a college party, so i was wondering if you wanted to maybe.. come with me?”
he smiled softly.
‘when?’ toge signed.
“tomorrow night!” you responded, taking a bite out of your breakfast sandwich.
he nodded, thinking a little in his head before sliding his whiteboard over to write.
‘of course ill go mouse but it might be better without me.’
you faltered, swallowing. “without you? why?”
he erased and wrote again.
‘because i can’t talk. your friends might think it’s a little odd.’
“no they won’t.” you countered. “and that’s totally okay, toge. just bring your whiteboard.”
he snorted, shaking his head.
‘i’m not bringing my whiteboard silly that’s even worse.’
“but you’ll be with me.” you reasoned. “and i don’t really talk to anyone at school either besides her so it’s literally just you and i hanging out.”
you wiggled your brows. “and drinkinggg ehh?”
he laughed and eventually nodded, reaching across the table and taking your hands in his as he agreed to go, caressing his fingers over your wrists.
the familiar scent of coffee beans and vanilla— a scent you’ve come to know for almost three years now wafted and swirled around through your nose comfortingly, it permanently reminding you of toge and the time that you’ve spent with him.
he let go of your wrists to write.
‘how was sign language yesterday? are you still good?’
you swallowed the bite you were chewing on and held back a grimace.
“oh i’m doing horrendously again… but it’s all good! ignorance is bliss and i’m choosing hardcore ignorance right now.”
toge’s jaw dropped before he laughed in disbelief and picked up his marker.
‘you’re sleeping over at my place again so i can help you no exceptions sorry about it :p’
you giggled and nodded— saluting him, a mannerism you picked up on from him as he smiled brightly.
“but i do know this!” you exclaimed excitedly as you pressed the bases of your palms together and rubbed, signing the word ‘cheese’— your favorite.
toge laughed cutely and signed the same word back, unable to do much else as the doors chimed to the shop then and a group of students came in, toge’s chair scraping against the floor as he stood before giving you a quick kiss and a ruffle to your hair, his whiteboard in hand as he started making his way to the back.
‘i love you.’ he signed and you bit your bottom lip in a smile, your heart swelling obnoxiously as you watched him shuffle on and tap a few things into the register, nodding along to the groups order as you soon after gathered your things for your afternoon class.
and that night after toge taught you a little more sign language and helped you work on the things you were struggling with, you fell asleep rather earlier than usual on his bed— him reaching for one of his fluffy blankets and draping it over your sleeping gorgeous self and staring, slowly leaning down and pressing the softest kiss ever to your little warm cheek— his chest twisting and contorting with the desire to just fucking give in and stop his stupid ridiculous suffering, to just be selfish one last time and ask you to be his.
and maybe he could.
maybe toge could allow himself this one tiny thing— the most important pretty thing of all, he felt.
just once.
“toge?” you murmured sleepily, eyes pinching a little as you lazily reached out for him.
but what if you grew tired of him? of the silence?
he delicately took your outstretched hand and hummed in question.
“come sleep.” you mumbled. “with me.”
his eyes softened, the corners of his mouth curving as he carefully tapped his index finger against your cheek repeatedly, you straining your eyes open.
‘look under your pillow.’ he signed.
your groggy eyes narrowed in confusion, barely making out what he was signing in the dark but catching key words.
“under my pillow?”
he nodded, pointing.
you breathed in and propped yourself up on your elbow, lifting the pillow you were laying on and suddenly snapping the fuck awake.
a ring.
you shot up, sitting up fully as you looked at him.
he stood and reached over for his whiteboard and marker, uncapping it and writing for a moment before flipping it around and showing you.
‘i got us matching bestest mestest friends but also in love at the same time rings :]’
you picked it up, a dainty thin silver banned ring with a milky white heart in the middle, iridescent as it glowed against the moonlight streaming through his open window.
“toge—” you breathed out. “you actually… you actually got me a ring?”
he wrote, a sly little grin on his face.
‘the tooth fairy did mouse.’
you giggled then, a vibrant pink glow to your cheeks and still a little shocked as he took the jewelry piece from you and gently grabbed your hand, sliding it over your ring finger smoothly, his ring finger already having his shiny silver band on.
he put your hand down and grabbed his whiteboard again.
‘that ring is me promising to help you and love you and kiss you until i die.’ he wrote. ‘okay?’
you quickly nodded, absolutely cheesed as you threw your arms around his neck and pulled toge in— feeling so so happy and fresh and loved, like everything was officially falling into place after nearly three years of semi crossing lines and stolen glances and unanswered questions about what exactly you both were for the longest.
your pretty pretty face had toge in a daze as you looked at him like he carried the world on his shoulders, his mouth slowly coming closer and closer to yours before softly pressing against them— slow and tender as you tugged him down to you by his shirt until he climbed in and was in between your thighs.
each kiss exchange was sensual and a mouthful as you helped toge tug his shirt off over his head, your palms running over his bare skinned chest and back as he deepened his kisses, your hands quickly pulling your shirt off and his eyes bulging at the sight of your puffy tits snug and pretty in your bra.
you were desperate for him and didn’t even have to think twice about something like this as you reached and tugged a little at his jeans, signaling him to take them the fuck off—
‘baby.’ he signed shakily, not even sure why he was asking since he doesn’t think at this point he could stop, but needing to check in with you first. ‘are you sure?’
“fuck yeah i’m sure.” you whispered quickly and unzipped his pants, toge smiling big as he kicked his pants and everything else off, carefully helping you do the same until you were bare and vulnerable in front of him.
toge moved to place a hand on your thigh and you squeaked, suddenly bashful as you shyly covered your arms over your chest and squeezed your thighs together.
he leaned down and placed gentle soft kisses on your cheeks, patting a comforting hand over your head.
‘it’s okay mouse. you’re okay.’ he signed.
you nodded, comfort washing over you as you slowly let your thighs spread and your arms reveal you, his spit catching in his throat at the sight of your gorgeous fucking body beneath him, his dick embarrassingly already leaking a little bit of cum as you watched him pump it a few times.
‘you’re beautiful.’ he signed, and you blushed.
he drooled some spit over his fingers and slid it gently in between your folds, your bottom lip coming in between your teeth as you tried to hold back your moans, his digits prepping you while slipping through your hole deeming it fucking hard as he was completely lost in it, unaware of the way he was riling you up and already building up that familiar sensation in the pit of your tummy.
“t—toge—” your pussy clenched at the way he was fucking you with his fingers, keeping your thighs apart with his other arm as he was completely drowned in the gushy sticky sounds of your hole.
“you’re gonna make me cum and i—” you panted, cute whines slipping from your lips as he looked up at you. “—i wanna cum when you’re inside—”
his cock spasmed and a drop of cum drooped out at your yummy plea, his breathing trembling as he quickly nodded and squeezed your thigh endearingly, slowly slipping his fingers out and stuffing them into his mouth to suck your juices as he pumped his cock while lining it up with your hole.
toge sunk in his dick then, the both of you groaning at the way he filled you up so fucking nice and stretched you, your pussy literally grabbing his cock and sucking him inside easily as you gripped his shoulders tight.
“mmm!—” you whimpered, toge now slowly pumping his cock inside of you as he leaned over and propped himself up by his arms, hips tenderly and deliciously rolling in as he panted and softly whined in your ear.
you were so god damn tight, his throat literally closing at the lock you had around him as he fucked you slow and breathless, one of his hands coming down to grip your waist to try and keep himself grounded and from snapping his hips into yours brutally— him wanting to make love to you and not do that just yet.
toge ducked his head down and licked over a perky tit, your breath hitching and subconsciously spreading your legs wider as he closed his lips around your nipple— suckling and laying a flat tattooed tongue over it as you moaned.
“faster—” pant! “faster please baby—”
with a mouthful of your tit he snapped his hips up, you choking as he started going a lot quicker than you anticipated as your hand flew to your mouth to keep your moans in, your tits bouncing with every fuck.
“oh my god oh my god—”
toge suddenly pulled out and threw you over, tummy to the bed as he hauled your ass up and lined himself at your entrance again, wasting no time in pushing in and screwing you in the same pace he had before.
but this new position was an absolute delicacy as you drooled over his sheets at the way he rammed his cock, the recoil of your ass sending a shiver up his spine and roughly gripping your hips and ass in anyway he could, you screaming and whining into his pillow as a series of slaps to your ass cheeks from him echoed through his little studio.
toge was about to dump the biggest fucking load in you that it was embarrassing.
you reached a hand behind you and he quickly grabbed it, his thumb running over your skin soothingly as he pistoned roughly into your cunt, him groaning and whimpering over the squelching and leaking of your hole as he felt his dick harden— his cum on the brink of release.
“fuck fuck fuck—” you hiccuped into his pillow. “baby i’m gonna cum i’m gonna cum hah!—”
he gripped your hand harder and leaned down over you, rutting into your pussy as he heaved and pressed his lips up against your ear, choking out the word ‘cum’ so softly that it bypassed the confines of his situation, your eyes squeezing shut as the hardest fucking orgasm you had ever had in your life hit you like brick.
you felt toge’s hips snap up and still as his hot milky cum spilled through your walls with a grunt, gooey and slimy as it filled you up and left you squirming at the weight of it.
his breath fanned against your hair as he tried to calm it, his hand moving soothingly up and down your back as you weakly tried to gain back some consciousness, the both of you sweaty and spent with his softening dick sliding out slowly.
toge carefully nudged you back over and kissed you tenderly, his hands traveling from your back over to your tummy and smoothly caressing every part of you down to the sides of your thighs, eyes swelling in utter worship over you as he leaned back to look at you.
‘i love you baby.’ he signed, and you beamed.
and just as toge had finally decided to ask you to be his girlfriend then, to officially let go of the fears he had and let himself have you— there in your arms as you peppered sweet cute kisses all over his face and over his tattooed markings on the corners of his mouth, pulling him further in to rest and sleep?
toge had a horrendous day the following morning that threw it all away.
horrendous.
it started in the morning when he left your sleeping figure quietly with a kiss to your head for his shift at work that day, excited and in a never ending state of bliss from the night before as he drove to the shop.
except he had forgotten his whiteboard at home.
toge had realized when he was already fucking halfway into the drive, a full fledged twenty five minute one that he didn’t have time to go back and repeat as he pulled up to the parking lot— cursing himself for being such a dumbass and wondering how the fuck he was gonna answer specific questions from customers, especially since he was the only one really working today.
he figured he should be fine… right? usually the people that come in already know what to get and they just read it out to him.
but there’s always a few every single day without fail that ask questions toge needed his whiteboard for. and you didn’t have class that day— so the means of you coming down there were for nothing, at least not until the party later that night.
and he didn’t want to ask anything of you…
but he really needed it.
(toge :D): hi pretty mouseee i know you’re asleep i’m sorry but is there anyway you could come to the shop when you wake up and drop off my whiteboard please? i left it on the desk like a stupid fucking idiot EL OH EL
“inumaki.”
toge froze on his walk to open the shop and looked up from his phone, eyes blowing wide.
there his manager stood, who was also the owner of the coffee shop itself, a stern look on his face with crossed arms as they both stood in front of a shattered door and windows, shards of glass twinkling on the floor.
“did you lock up last night?”
toge nodded, eyebrows furrowed as he scanned the ground.
“everything?”
he went to nod again, but stopped.
he did… he did truly he did—
…oh.
he forgot to lock up and cash in the register.
toge quickly stepped over the glass and swung open the shattered door and over to the front counter, sure enough finding the register wide open and battered with not a single fucking penny left inside.
he groaned, his hands shooting up and digging the bases of his palms into his eyes as he leaned back, lips in a thin line at how utterly fucking stupid he was for forgetting to lock up the register and take in the money— the number one thing he was always supposed to do.
“what happened?” his manager asked, hands out. “have you been not locking it up?”
toge scrambled for his phone and pulled it from his back pocket, the thought of his job literally on the line because of this sending him for a fucking ride.
‘i always lock it up, honestly.’ he typed and showed his phone. ‘but i stupidly forgot last night and i can’t express enough to you how sorry i am.’
his manager sighed deeply and dropped his hands, looking over at the open register.
“you’ve consistently been one of my best.” he spoke. “but a mistake like this isn’t something small like forgetting to properly close and wipe down everything or put up the chairs.”
toge nodded understandingly, arms tightly crossed over his chest as he shamefully looked to the side, feeling like the biggest pathetic loser for doing something like this that could’ve been entirely avoided if he just did his damn job correctly.
“it’s alright.” his manager reached and patted a heavy hand to his shoulder. “it happens. it’s just unfortunate that we got broken into right when it did.”
toge looked at him.
“we can’t open today because there’s glass everywhere… so if you can stay and call up the insurance for the shop—” he pointed to the wall, their number amongst others typed and labeled. “—and file an insurance claim in any way you can for me that’d be great. i’m gonna go down to the police station and report.”
toge quickly nodded, typing again on his phone before showing him.
‘okay sounds good. i’m really really sorry and this won’t happen again.’
his manager waved him off with a smile. “don’t sweat, inumaki. i’m pretty sure i did this too when i was working except it was my works safe and not the register…”
softly chuckling, toge nodded once more and gave his manager a tiny wave as he patted his shoulder again before stepping around the glass, leaving.
regardless of being lucky enough to have such an understanding boss, toge still felt like complete and utter shit as he stood behind the counter slumped over after, on hold with the insurance company for thirty minutes now as he stared at the broken shards and the register.
you had gotten toge’s text the minute you woke up and quickly got up to get ready, not even bothering to change into anything different as you left with his pajamas on you and his little whiteboard, hopping into your car and speeding off knowing how much he needed it for work sometimes.
and when you pulled into the shops parking lot, confusedly already noticing scattered glass on the concrete walking up, you froze in front of the coffee shop upon seeing the windows and doors completely shattered— toge propping his forehead up with his palm on the counter solemnly.
“toge?”
he looked up.
“what happened?”
his shoulders dropped in relief and he slowly came around the counter, opening his arms a little and pulling you in as he buried his face into your hair, sighing.
you hugged him back. “are you okay? did this happen right now?”
he shook his head and stepped back, taking the whiteboard from you.
‘someone broke into the shop last night. but i forgot to lock up the register and cash in the money so they stole that too.’
“oh my god!” you gasped, hands flying over your mouth. “fuucckkkk was your manager mad? don’t tell me he fired you—”
toge erased and wrote before flipping the board over.
‘no just disappointed. but i still feel like such a fucking moron for forgetting and i hate that i did.’
“toge..” you sighed sadly, running your hands over his upper arms. “it’s okay you’re human baby. these things happen so don’t feel like that please..”
he nodded a little before ducking down and pressing a soft kiss to your lips.
you smiled and looked around.
“seeing the shop like this is nuts.”
he hummed in agreement.
toge stuck around for a little while, you next to him behind the counter still waiting on hold with the insurance company, feeling awfully bad for keeping you here when he knew you wanted to go shopping for a dress for the party, but him stupidly forgetting again that he couldn’t speak— too caught up in trying to make it up to his manager for his fuck up to think about how exactly he was going to talk to the insurance company on the other line, you demanding to help him.
sometime down the line when the insurance claim was filed, toge’s manager told him that if he wanted to open up the shop for the day he could, and to just sweep up the glass a little from the ground and fix up the place a little so it didn’t look like they just got robbed.
and because toge was still in his self dreaded state of guilt and shame over what happened, he immediately agreed to, trying to make up for his mistake and see if he could double the shop’s earnings for today.
“i could stay toge let me stay.” you pushed, but he only shook his head and sent you off to do the things he knew you needed to do with a pat on the head and a kiss on the cheek, telling you he’d see you at his place to get ready for the party.
but maybe toge was better off telling his manager a bit fat no and going home with you, because it was like everybody that came into the shop following that had eaten a big bag of dicks and salvaged the biggest fucking attitudes out of it to spit back in his face.
no one was understanding him. no one. not a single soul. even when he used his whiteboard to explain everything that certain customers needed, for some reason the extra effort of them having to just read putting them off and yelling and making toge’s shift a living hell.
and it’s not like he’s never managed shifts on his own either— never having an issue and still putting in and preparing orders efficiently like he was supposed to, but he figured the debacle from this morning was setting him off since he couldn’t do anything right at the moment, the attitude he was getting from literally every single fucking customer leaving him wishing he at least had one more person on the floor with him.
but toge was still blaming himself.
why couldn’t anyone understand him? why couldn’t he just speak? his life would be so much easier if he could… and you would’ve been his a long time ago.
so as toge sat there tiredly after work with his eyes closed on a stool next to you in his bathroom, you applying the finishing touches to your hair and makeup— you could practically feel toge’s exhaustion, frustration, and sadness seeping into your skin and insides over the shift he told you he had, your eyebrows pinching anxiously.
“we don’t have to go baby…” you murmured, looking down and playing with the rings on your fingers. “i would much rather stay here with you so you can relax for a little…”
he slowly peeled his eyes open, the sight of you standing there in front of him— so fucking beautiful in your dress and heels and dolled up in the way that you were, made his cheeks buzz pink as he slumped forward and mushed his cheek up against your tummy, wrapping his arms around you and shaking his head.
“are you sure?” you asked gently, running your fingers over his soft hair. “i don’t mind what we do toge… as long as with you i’m okay.”
his heart jumped as he looked up and gave you a cute smile, nodding.
you’d decided to meet in the middle and just go home early so toge could have enough rest for his shift tomorrow, him driving you both to the sorority house and parking a bit down the street amongst dozens of other cars, a little nervous and apprehensive and wondering what he was gonna do if any of your friends came up to talk to him— but the desire to make you happy and accompany you to something that you were so excited for far, far greater.
the night went smoothly for the most part, you in no time at all spotting your friend that initially invited you through the crowd along with some of your other friends that you had no idea were coming in the first place, introducing toge to each one and him giving a small smile and wave in response as he interlaced your fingers and gladly let you lead him to wherever you wanted through the dark and blue lit house, taking sips occasionally of the tequila orange liquor mix from his red solo cup and funnily from yours too— since you had gotten a different punch like flavor that he liked better.
“y/n? i didn’t know you were coming!”
your head snapped to the voice just as you were talking to toge, your eyes widening and a huge smile spreading across your face.
“oh hey! i didn’t know you were either!” you quickly turned to toge. “he’s in my sign language class the one i told you about that teaches us how to cuss—”
your friend laughed, “you talk about me y/n? interestinggg.”
toge quirked a brow.
“not like that—” you slapped his shoulder. “i talk about you so i can build up the stamina to rat you out.”
he gasped dramatically. “says the one who bothered me last class to teach her how to sign the word cunt.”
“no i didn’t— wait actually i did.”
your friend laughed again but diverted his attention momentarily to someone pulling on his arm a bit.
toge nudged you gently and you turned.
‘i’m gonna go get a drink mouse.’ he signed.
“okay!” you nodded. “i’ll wait for you here.”
he nodded, kissing your head before leaving— the kitchen not too far from where you both were originally at as he walked and threw away the drink he had initially and scanned the counter, looking for the fruity punch one you got before spotting it and picking one up from the rows of others, the smell of alcohol filling his nostrils.
“hey sorry to bother, which flavor is that?”
toge froze and looked over, a girl standing there and pointing at his cup.
oh shit.
toge pointed to his cup.
“yeah, which flavor is that one? i’ve tried the others but not that one yet.”
oh fuck.
why couldn’t he just talk?
the girl quirked a brow at his silence, and just when she was about to say something else, someone came through the kitchen.
“i think that one’s tutti frutti but i could be wrong.”
she turned to the other person and nodded, giving toge an awkward look before walking around him to get a cup for herself.
toge covered his eyes with a hand in complete fucking mortifying embarrassment, cheeks warm as he leaned against the kitchen sink in the lowest low he had ever lowed.
or so he thought.
because the sound of your loud pretty laughter had him slowly looking up and taking his hand away, you conversing so— so openly and freely with your friend from sign language triggering a hint of jealousy and bitterness in his chest. bitter as to why he was cursed to deal with something like this, bitter over the loser that was blatantly obviously flirting with you… but jealous of him that he was able to open his mouth and speak to you in whatever words and phrases he wanted, syllables flying out without any sort of pain or blood as a paying price like he had to.
that’s what you needed… that’s what you should have. not him.
not his inevitable silence and whiteboards and constant pauses, his lack of being able to tell you how much he loved you and how much you meant to him whenever, wherever… without being tied down to a marker or a phone.
his mixup from this morning, his customers not understanding him, everybody else not understanding him, has led him to believe that someone as beautiful as you shouldn’t carry the burden of even trying to.
toge knew from the very first time you came into the coffee shop that you were going to unknowingly break his heart if he let you in because of his situation… and fuck did he let you in.
and now he had to break yours so you could find and be with what you deserved.
toge walked over to you then, head down with his jaw tight and mind fogged over as you doubled over in laughter over something your friend said.
“wait—” you gasped. “wait toge he just told me that—”
“is he your boyfriend?” you friend asked, pointing to him.
well, toge still hadn’t really asked you… but he gave you a promise ring, and you were both wearing them tonight so—
your eyes snapped to toge, who was shaking his head no.
…no?
your brows furrowed.
“oh! i thought you guys were together, my bad.”
toge twitched over the way your friend sounded relieved, but you didn’t notice a thing, still looking at him with the most gutting look that made him want to scream.
“yeah.. my bad too.” you mumbled, your friend not catching it as he then got pulled by the shoulder to a different crowd, him calling over that he would come find you later on in the night.
“no?” you repeated to him.
‘come with me outside.’ he signed before slowly walking and leading you back to the kitchen and through the backyard doors, the chilling cold night air a refreshing break from the stuffiness inside.
“if this is a joke it’s not that funny toge.” you mumbled, hugging yourself as you closed the door behind you.
he looked at you sadly.
‘you shouldn’t be with me mouse.’ he signed.
“what?” you breathed out. “what are you talking about?”
‘i can’t give you what you need.’
“what i need?”
he nodded. ‘it won’t work. you and me.’
“toge—” your chest picked up speed, tears prickling a bit at your eyes. “you’re telling me all of this yet no answers— why won’t we work.”
‘you should be with someone that can talk to you and tell you that they love you and say anything without all of this baggage—’
“wait wait slow down i can’t—” you put your hands out. “you’re signing too fast i can’t understand you—”
you couldn’t understand him.
and toge realized that the reasoning he had would be something that you would counter and fight for, and something he would more than one hundred percent give in to you winning just so he could have you again.
he needed to make you hate him so it would be easier for you to move on.
toge dropped his arms, a defeated look on his face as he shoved a hand in his pocket for his phone, typing out a message to you.
you received it on the other end, your phone illuminating your face as you opened it.
(toge :D): i realized after we confessed that this isn’t what i want anymore and im sorry
your jaw dropped, eyes narrowing as you looked up at him.
“what the fuck do you mean.”
his thumbs shook as he typed, his heart pulling and screaming at the muscles and nerves tied to them for him to stop.
(toge :D): we’re better off as just friends. i’m really sorry that i realized after the fact. you deserve someone better anyways and i just don’t think it’s with me.
you let out a sob that ripped him to shreds, hand coming over your mouth in disbelief as you stared at the blurry screen in your grasp.
he realized this after the fact? after messing around with you for almost three years? after confessing to you and saying he loves you? after being intimate?
you felt fucking used.
“you’re realizing this now?” you shook your head. “toge— you realize we’ve been flirting like this for as long as we’ve known each other and all of a sudden you’re pulling back? after you got your fucking fill? after kissing me and telling me that you love me, and— and after—”
you ran an exasperated trembling hand through your hair. “toge we had sex and you’re telling me this isn’t what you want?”
god this is everything he wants.
but toge bit his tongue, him strained all over with a locked painful jaw as you yelled at him, his eyes glossy over how much he was hurting you as he stiffly nodded.
you stepped closer, jabbing a finger to his chest. “look at me in the eyes right now and tell me if our entire fucking friendship before leading up to our bullshit confessions was all a lie. tell me right now if this—” you held your hand up, the promise ring he gave you shimmering under the fairy lights of the backyard. “—was a lie when you promised me that you would always help me and love me.”
toge breathed in and out shakily, swallowing thickly as he slowly nodded, his entire body in absolute detriment.
holy fucking shit.
how long had you been this stupid for you to not realize the kind of person he actually was?
but— but it didn’t make any sense. this wasn’t toge. this wasn’t toge at all you didn’t know who the fuck you were yelling at right now because toge would never do this to you.
“do you know why i’m learning sign language in the first place?”
toge blinked back tears, shaking his head no.
“i started taking sign language for you, asshole!” you sobbed. “when i was stupidly crushing on you at the shop before we talked for the first time, i noticed you knew sign language and i signed up for you so it’d be easier for you to communicate with me without always having to use your whiteboard.”
he felt a pang to his heart, harshly wiping his eyes.
“but even then i don’t fucking care toge! you could have absolutely nothing to talk to me with and i’d still love you and do anything for you because that’s how much i’m in love you!”
you sobbed as your shoulders shook violently, hands covering your eyes.
“glad to know the feelings not mutual.”
oh he takes it back.
he takes it all back.
toge reached for your hands and you pushed him away.
“you’re so full of shit toge.” you sniffled. “if this is what you want then fine. take this fucking—”
you slipped the ring off from your finger and threw it at him, the feeling of it thudding against his chest and clinking to the ground beneath his feet close enough to a damn bullet.
he shook his head frantically, picking up your ring and following you up the steps of the porch, grabbing your hand and pulling you back, but you only shaking it off and trudging on forward.
“mouse—” he spoke. “please stop—”
the sound of his rare voice made you freeze in place, unmoving and feeling guilt pool in your stomach at the sound of him reeling over and coughing violently as a result.
he spoke to you… but his dreaded words from earlier still lingered in your mind, betrayal etched into your chest like a tattoo.
“don’t call me that.” you mumbled over your shoulder, swinging the door open to the kitchen and slamming it shut.
toge heard nothing from you for four weeks.
even through all of the calls and texts he sent you, he started to conclude that you actually blocked his number the moment you left him that night, unable to see his actual explanation through the masses of messages he sent you and still continued to even after confirming the thought that you had blocked him.
he couldn’t believe himself. he couldn’t believe he actually hurt you and drove you away like that.
and toge had never felt so much self hatred, missing you like fucking crazy throughout those weeks— it reminding him of that one time when you first started getting to know each other where you disappeared for a week, except far far worse now that you had both built so much together over the years.
his life felt empty now that you weren’t in it.
and funnily enough, his job— something he had gotten before you, now solely reminding him of you as he tried to work without throwing something over the random flashbacks he’d have of that night, blending and serving drinks and sliding them over the pickup counter all meaningless if you weren’t there at your usual table to give him a cheeky smile and sign the word ‘cheese’ to make him laugh on the other side.
his little mouse.
and toge silently cried almost every night at his desk, him clutching your ring.
you were basically the same way as him, if not fucking lower as you were the one that was practically presumably dumped and used, you unable to sleep for hours on end in your bed and your parents wondering what the hell happened between the two of you as they tried to console your tears through your restless nights, you half in denial that this was your reality and toge was out of your life.
after some time, you realized that you had left nearly half of your things in toge’s apartment, it settling into your mind how much time you actually spent with him and not at your own house as you constantly found yourself needing things but couldn’t have them because they were over there— one of those things unfortunately being your freaking sign language textbook.
there was absolutely no way you could get it, and you opted to borrowing your friends for the longest time… but by the time you reached the beginning of the fifth week without toge, you started feeling really bad for continuously bothering your friend for her book when you could just suck it up and get yours.
so you made your jumbled mind up and reached for your phone one day after your morning class, going to toge’s contact number and unblocking him before texting.
(you): hi. sorry to bother but i left some things in your apartment that i need. i was wondering if i could come by today to get them.
toge nearly jumped out of his skin at your pretty name flashing across his phone while he was lazily and depressingly laying in bed, scrambling to type back not even a minute later.
(toge): yes of course
(toge): i’m home right now if you want to come
(toge): and you’re never a bother
you pursed your lips, a lump building in your throat.
(you): okay. i’ll be there in a few minutes.
toge flung his scattered clothing inside his closet or literally anywhere that was out of eyesight, trying to turn his rut of a room back to how it looked like when you were always here, shaking out a big garbage bag and throwing all of his trash in there (along with all of the cake pop, cheese danish, and blueberry scone wrappers…), opening the blinds and straightening out his sheets.
you pulled into his apartment complex parking lot and parked not too long after, your hands drenched in sweat and your body rigid as you came up to his floor and over to his apartment number, knocking even though you had the key.
you almost turned back to leave once you heard his padded footsteps, but decided against is as he was already opening the door.
and my god, seeing him hurt a lot more than you thought it would.
his eyes were soft as they looked at you, and red like yours, him quickly stepping to the side to let you in and you doing so with your head down, not saying a single word.
“i think—” you shakily spoke, eyes already watering as he closed his door with a click. “i think i’m just gonna get my sign language textbook for now i’ll come back some other time for the rest—”
you felt a little tug at your hand, and you turned, his shoulders slumping at your teary eyes, stray droplets slipping down your cheeks already.
‘please don’t cry.’ he signed. ‘i’m so sorry for everything.’
you snorted, shaking your head as you reached behind you to get your textbook.
“sorry for stringing me along and using every part of me until you were bored? sure.”
he frantically shook his head no, panic rising in his chest as he watched you step around him and head for the door.
he couldn’t let you leave.
because he had a feeling if he did, he actually would never see you again.
toge quickly grabbed your wrist and tugged you back around.
“what toge—”
‘stay for a bit.’ he shakily signed. ‘please just stay and let me explain.’
you followed his signage, and your eyes narrowed. “explain what? there’s nothing to explain—”
toge swiped his phone from his bed and opened it, going to your contact to type out a message.
you hesitantly pulled yours out and waited, your phone vibrating against your hand once he sent it over.
(toge): i lied about absolutely everything i said that night. i don’t think any of those things at all. i’ve wanted you so fucking bad from the start y/n, i’ve been ready to be with you i don’t think for a second we’re better off as friends i want more with you always and for the rest of my life.
what?
he sent another message.
(toge): i said what i said because throughout our friendship i told myself like a fucking idiot that i couldn’t let you all the way in because i can’t talk. i kept thinking that you needed someone who you can talk to you whenever you want without having to always step back and read or write like you have to with me. i didn’t want you to carry that baggage and deal with me and i just felt like a burden, and i love you so fucking much that i wanted better for you.
you sniffled and wiped your cheeks, you rubbing away lonesome tears that landed on your phone screen.
(toge): but i’m selfish baby i’ve BEEN selfish. i said those horrible things to you so it’d be easier for you to move on and im so sorry. none of them are true. i don’t want you to move on from me. i didn’t use you i could never and that night we had sex was the most meaningful experience of my life. i love you more than anything in my life, and im gonna be selfish again and please ask you to come back to me. you’re my best friend and more, and i still believe that you need someone better and that can give you more than i can, but i just can’t let you go man i’ve been physically sick for four weeks without you.
you cried still and he typed again.
(toge): i’m selfish and i’m in love with you mouse. i’m sorry.
“toge!” you cried and chucked your phone to his bed, flinging your arms around his neck and pulling him in a tight embrace— the weight completely lifting off both of your shoulders at the feeling of your bodies pressed against each others like a perfect little key in a lock, toge hugging you back so so fucking tight with his face in your neck that he practically squeezed the air out of your lungs entirely.
“i love you.” he spoke, his words incredibly powerful in your ear even though it couldn’t have been more than a mere whisper, the sound and depth of his voice ringing through your head and one you wanted to remember forever and ever, feeling so incredibly loved over the fact that he’d use his voice for you even when it hurt him so much.
but he really didn’t need to. you just wanted him.
and you’ve never been so happy to hear someone tell you that they lied.
toge pulled back a bit and turned his head to the side, stuffing his mouth into the crook of his elbow and coughing.
you pressed your cheek against his once he was done, kissing it a few times beforehand and him closing his eyes at the feeling of your lips on his skin after so long.
“you okay?” you murmured softly, and he nodded.
“i love you too, toge.” you tightened your arms around his neck. “please don’t ever think that you’re a burden or giving me baggage to carry. i’ve never ever felt that way and neither should you.”
you stepped back and cupped his cheeks.
“i need you, baby. i don’t need anything or anyone else but you. someone that has the ability to talk can’t give me even ten percent of what you’ve been giving me. i’m happy with you. the happiest i’ve ever been is when i’m with you… okay?”
toge grinned, huge and shiny as he nodded and leaned forward and captured your lips in a kiss— the both of you utterly deprived as your mouths smacked and moved in haste, his hands running and squeezing over your body with labored breathing between the two of you.
he pulled apart for a second and you stopped.
“what baby?” you breathed, watching as he raised his arms.
‘please be my girlfriend mouse.’ he signed. ‘or i’ll die.’
you giggled cutely and a blush rose on both of your sore cheeks from smiling so much, you happily nodding and roughly pulling him back in to continue.
and how lucky was toge to have such a sweet little mouse that cared for him this much? for someone who couldn’t even speak? who had the greatest level of patience and not once ever complained about the burden she had to carry?
you learned sign language for him. solely for him. the reasons he was thinking about how he’d be baggage to you, was amazingly the total opposite on your end, as you didn’t want to be baggage to him when it came down to communication with you— as if something like that were ever even possible.
and you learned sign language for him— a totally beautiful and different and complex language that was iterated through the feeling of arms and body, to be read across with purposeful moving hands and symbols and diligent fingers— somehow looking even more beautiful when it was you that was doing it.
silence was toge’s greatest form of love… one that you received with open arms and acceptance without a twinge of judgement in your heart, and one that toge only ever wanted you to receive.
you.
his little mouse.
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taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):
@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @fushigurioo @wil10wthetree @jameinfrau @pancakeszs @drftnzume @k0z3me @k4zivy @dindjarins1ut @starrnai @tinyray-lovesfood @iloveoldermenn @dazqa @applepi25 @aria-chikage @blu3-l0v3r @rose-tlnted-kalopsia
if you asked to be on my taglist but i missed you please let me know!! and also let me know if i accidentally tagged you but you didn’t ask GAHAHA LOVE YOUU
499 notes · View notes
kaivenom · 3 days
Note
Omg omg, OP Dilfs with a virgin reader? 🥺
One Piece Dilfs first time with a virgin reader HCS
Characters: Doflamingo, Mihawk, Crocodile, Smoker, Shanks
A/N: omg people, i am freaking out of how much love the posts about these men are getting. For the past few weeks all i am getting is Dilf fans. Thank you so much.
Masterlist
Dracule Mihawk
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He doesn't care.
If he is in a relationship with you, then you would have to had sex for the first time, what's the difference if it's your first first?
He see it as both firsts, becuase he doesn't know how would you be in sex.
The thing it's that you didn't know the answer either, so, you were really lost.
The good thing is that this man is really good at saying orders which means that when the time came, you were at his mercy.
It was like being hipnotized.
"Take off your clothes" "Come here." "Kiss me" "Use your mouth"
There were no words of reasurrance but you didn't care, his touches told you he was enjoying your actions.
Something in the atmosphere was extremely serious but deep and lovable.
Gentle and stoic, even when he just told you to suck him off.
All your intrusive thoughts were gone every second his touch was on you.
He would look like he doesn't care but if it's important to you, then he would make it important, even if it's not with his words.
When he isn't giving you orders, he needs to have his lips on you somehow: kissing your neck, your lips, your tits.
Aftercare based on service acts, like rubbing your hair, cleaning you up, giving you water.
He had everything prepared and set, to make you feel good and cared.
Donquixote Doflamingo
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He got an instant boner and wanted to take you right there.
The mere thought spliting you in half with ruthness made him all worked up but being the first one to make you feel it was his wet dream.
He was being dominant and agressive, eager to be inside you.
It was intoxicating and almost obsesive.
You were sure it was bad idea to tell him because now he won't be gentle with you, and you were right.
When he tried to put his dick inside you and you began to cry a little and scratch his arm, he stopped instantly.
He knew that you would have that reaction and on his mind he would like it like he always likes the idea of torturing others but suddently it was different.
His mind was racing between all the posibilities while you try to prepare yourself for the pain.
Then he was a little softer, scarily softer, starting to touch every sensitive area with care.
You started to relax and the cries transformed into whimpers, without you knowing, you were finally able to take all his shaft.
He left out a small unexpected groan and slowly started to move.
Your wrap around his arm was still strong but now the pain transformed to pleasure.
When you both finished he putted you on his arms and waited for you to fall asleep.
He was surprised of himself, he always likes to hear the cries and bruises of his lovers, maybe you are something else and he doesn't know what to do about it.
Sr. Crocodile
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He couldn't care less.
But he understands that is important to make you feel comfortable and secure, to make you sure that you are not being used and that nothing would be wrong.
He is a very good dealer so, when you said you were a virgin but you wanted to be with him, you both sat down and talked.
You both talked long and deep about all things and emotions possible.
He was confident and calm, everything you needed to feel safe to say everything out loud.
Then, he got up and started to kiss you, it was the time.
He took you up in bridal style and left you on the bed.
His movements are slow, you though it was because he wanted to make you feel safe but in reallity he was a little nervous.
He is used to breaking things not trying to keep it together.
He swears that your dove eyes while naked in bed, expecting for him, just makes him feel something primal.
He carreses your skin and never breaks eye contact, that makes you embarrased and at the same time excited.
He is a somehow scared that he would crush you with his weight but still he gets on top of you and kisses you with passion.
Painfully slow but is worth it, he is concious men.
In aftercare, he just lets you tell him what you need.
Smoker
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I think he would be a virgin too.
Too focused on his job and duty to do these things until he met you.
I picture him as akward, he will try to look tough and masculine but he would be like a pudding, soft and shaky, but also tender.
He will set a cozy aesthetic cheeky room for you two.
Rose petals making a trail to the bed, candles, heart-shapped cushions and chocolates, all that manual sappy things.
He will be waiting for you in the bedroom only in boxers, he will never admit it but he was feeling cold.
You got there all flustered, knowing from the start what was everything about.
He went to you with a soft smile, and started to undress you carefully.
Soft and tender kisses while he takes you to bed.
Incredibly passional and masculine, just as he wanted.
Very traditional but yet still exciting.
Amazing with his fingers and very carefull all the time, he knows he is stronger.
Good old missionary, his moans on your neck almost made you cum.
And he almost cummed by the time his dick passed thru your slit.
He knowed it would feel good but never imagined that good, but he last good and gave you the pleasure you deserved.
Aftercare like a god, like he read everything on a book.
Big secret, he read a book, and listened to a podcast, and asked other woman at work (he died of embarrasment).
Akagami Shanks
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He is surprised at first.
He pictured you as someone who already had some type of intercourse in these but when he tried to make the move and you flintched, he was shocked.
His first thougth was that you had a traumatic experience, but then you both talked and he was recalculating everything.
His goal now it's to make you have the best experience possible, to the point were he put a little to much effort on himself.
So you needed to remind him that the two of you were going to have sex and that meant that he can get pleasure too.
Very cute from then, little laughs and reasurance.
"I am going to move.... ouch, a cramp." you both laughed while he laid on your tits.
"Now i want you to ride me so..." and now you are both on the ground.
It's really funny beacuse he is amused by your beauty and by being your first and having his dick inside you for the first time, that he isn't aware of anything else, which makes these kind of situations (even after your first time).
Very giggly and cute, i can't say anything else, if you were nervous and insecure at first, all that would be wiped away in a second with his laugh.
303 notes · View notes
goodlucktai · 1 day
Note
9, raph and leo?
dialogue prompts
9. “I know, I know it hurts.”
x
When Raph was eight years old, the twins decided they needed their own bedrooms and, like with all other things they had ever decided, they made it everyone else’s problem. As a united front, the two of them had the capacity to wear down a squad of Navy Seals in a manner of days, let alone one overtired single father. 
The campaign for separate bedrooms turned out to be a long con. Donnie had been denied an evil science laboratory by Splinter multiple times, on the grounds of it being dangerous, and Donnie being seven, and evil being bad. But a room of his own could be whatever he wanted, and he wanted a lab. 
It took most of a week for Splinter to discover that the twins were still doubled up in the room that was ostensibly Leo’s while Donnie’s was being used for nefarious purposes, but by then Donnie had installed an electronic lock on the door that he built out of components gutted from old kitchen appliances and was fully ready to die on that hill. 
While Pops and Donnie were locked in a contest of wills that would ultimately go in Donnie’s favor (because Splinter’s achilles heel back then—and even now—was that he thought little turtles at their most sulky and unreasonable were just adorable) Raphie had looked at Leo with a confused frown on his face. 
“How come you went along with it, Lee? You didn’t even get your own room.”
Leo shrugged, bright gold eyes shining with interest as he watched his twin and his father argue back and forth. He was following it carefully, probably ready to join in if it looked like Donnie was going to lose—more engaged than he ever was playing video games or flipping through comics. 
At the time, all Leo said was, “Just wanted to see if I could.”
Raph thought it was because he was a troublemaker, and he maintained that idea up until Mikey—intuitive beyond his years, even as a sweet little six year old—said he figured it was just that Leo’s head went as crazy fast as Donnie’s did, only in ways that didn’t involve breaking and building things. 
A full decade later, Raph knows Mikey was right on the money. Looking back, he sees a kid who was wickedly smart and terribly understimulated. Leo didn’t create trouble for the heck of it, he just liked having problems to solve. He wanted conversations and tricks and puzzles, he needed hoops to jump through like dolphins did on TV, or else he’d get cranky and sneaky. 
Their world became a much simpler, more peaceful place once Leo got his first phone and discovered an online chess app with a leaderboard. 
All this to say, Leo has had a mind for strategy since before he could talk in full sentences. He’s a natural-born leader, and after the failed Krang invasion, he really stepped up and took it seriously. Raph is so proud of him he doesn’t have words big enough to contain the size and shape of it all. It isn’t as hard as he had imagined it would be to let go of the reins and give Leo the room he needs to shine. 
Some days are better than others. For the most part, Leo says jump and his brothers don’t even ask how high, they just shoot for the rafters. Their teamwork is cohesive, as solid as it was when they initially realized their ninpo, and Raph thinks he’d feel sorry for the Shredder if that guy showed his face in their town again. 
But there are also days like today, when Leo says something that Raph’s big brother meter pings as Leo being silly, stirring shit up for lack of better thing to do, and he doesn’t linger on it past that initial knee-jerk impression. 
They’re working with a group of mutants out of Hell’s Kitchen, mutants who are walking the line between vigilantism and outright crime. They’re rough around the edges, but good-natured for the most part. The turtles kept bumping into that other group as they crisscrossed around the city until finally their leader, Old Hob, said, “Why don’t we just get on the same program instead of stepping on each other’s heels?” and a tentative partnership was formed. 
It’s been a week since then, and in that time Raph and his brothers have been firmly adopted by the grown-up mutants, who ask pointed questions about what time they went to bed the night before and whether or not they had a decent breakfast and how their online classes are going. 
“This must be what having overbearing aunties is like,” Donnie said to April on the phone none-too-quietly, and Sally, feline mutant and aforementioned overbearing auntie, knocked her knuckles on his battleshell reprovingly. But that about summed it up. 
There was one spanner in the works, and that was Liam.  
——
“Anyone else getting bad vibes from that guy by the way?” Leo says one day. 
There’s something performative about it, his usual pomp and charisma with a plastic edge. Mikey tilts his head like a service dog who just caught the scent of a potential medical emergency. Donnie looks up from his phone, eyes keen the way they only are when he and his twin are about to communicate with the telepathy they’ll deny they have.
But Raph is having a bad pain day, and his well of patience for shenanigans is much shallower than it normally is. 
“Leon, don’t start,” he says, rubbing the slider’s head playfully to take any sting out of the dismissal. “If I have to put up with any middle child nonsense today I’m gonna scream.”
There’s a beat, his second-youngest brother visibly hesitating on a mental fork in the road. He’s gotten so good about being forthcoming but his first impulse is still to play along, deny, conceal-don’t-feel. He still has this idea in his head of what a good leader is supposed to be, and he’s still willing to whittle parts of himself away that don’t fit that mold. 
To his credit, Leo tries again. “I don’t like him,” he says with less certainty. 
“You don’t have to be best friends with the guy,” Raph replies. There’s enough warning in his tone that Leo knows to drop it. “Just get along until we go home.”
He works his shoulder, trying to do something about the solid ache it’s become, and Leo’s eyes drop to the mass of scarring there and then flit away. He starts to outline the route their patrol is going to take, reaching into his belt bag for the jar of Tiger Balm he’s taken to carrying with him and handing it over to Raph as he talks. 
Raph smiles, the warmth in his chest ballooning up to swallow the impending impatience and annoyance brought out by pain. That warmth stays with him through their whole run, even as Donnie video-calls April and deadpans “POV you’re tailing some guy who didn’t get the memo that armed robbery is cringe as hell,” even as Mikey goes out of his way to jump and tumble off a fire escape in time to give Mondo a high-five as he skates by in the opposite direction, even as Leo progressively gets quieter the closer they get to their two AM check-in at the Mutanimals’ railyard base.
Looking back, Raph can count all the red flags he missed and hates himself a little more for each one. Leo sometimes causes problems for fun, and he likes to see what trouble he can get away with or get himself out of, and he is a downright menace to society when he’s bored—but he’s good. He’s sweet, and charming, and wants to help. He wouldn’t have raised an issue with the other group of mutants, potentially cutting ties with useful allies, unless he had a decent reason to. 
And that reason, Raph discovers that night—after information has been exchanged and all that's left is to hang out at the base watching TV and playing table tennis until Splinter inevitably texts to remind his sons of their curfew—is Liam. 
He doubles back into the meeting room where he left his phone and sees the goose mutant has put himself between Leo and the only exit, head lowered on a serpentine neck, beak open to show a flash of sharp teeth in a display that Raph’s animal hindbrain reads clearly as threat. 
His grip on the doorframe causes it to crack. 
“Leo,” he says in a voice he doesn’t recognize. 
His little brother’s head jerks up, half-hopeful, half-disbelieving. Later, Raph will hate himself for putting even a sliver of doubt in Leo’s mind, for unknowingly invalidating his feelings. Leo should never be surprised that his big brother showed up for him. He should never have been left to fend for himself in a situation that made him uncomfortable, especially after he found the courage to be upfront about it. 
“C’mere,” Raph says, lifting an arm—a little turtle’s cue to tuck themselves safely against Raph’s side. 
Whatever his expression is doing, it’s caused dead silence to blanket the room like a foot of packed snow. Liam looks markedly unhappy to see Raphael standing there, but Leo runs to meet him. 
A strategist, a faceman, a leader, and barely seventeen years old. 
“We were just talking,” Liam says with a lightness that rings as false. 
“Next time I find out you and my brother were just talking, I’ll wring your skinny neck,” Raph replies, matching his tone. Liam may be twice Raph’s age, but he’s half Raph’s size, and Raph has gone head-to-head with the Krang general and the Shredder and walked it off each time. Raph is fully prepared, in this moment, to murder this fucking goose. 
Leo taps on Raph’s carapace, just as one of his violent inner voices is lifting its head in the back of his brain and considering making an appearance. On Leo’s end, a warning that someone else is coming from down the hall. On Raph’s end, a reminder that his first priority is the one he’s holding. 
He turns, keeping Leo beside him, in time to see Hob appear around the corner. The cat mutant stops dead in his tracks, slitted eyes moving from Raph, down to Leo, to the doorway beside them, and back again.  
“Problem?”
“We’re going home,” Raph says, a rumble in his voice he wouldn’t know how to temper even if he wanted to. “And we’re not coming back. Don’t call us unless someone’s dying or there’s another alien invasion.”
“Knock on wood,” Leo mumbles near-silently. 
Old Hob doesn’t answer right away. It’s impossible to tell what the older mutant is thinking on a good day, outwardly recalcitrant and unfriendly, even though he has never snapped at Mikey’s cheerful rambling or Leo’s wheedling attempts to goad him into yet another chess match or even Donnie’s accidental ninpo-related shortage of every appliance in the Mutanimals’ kitchen. He and Sally and Ray and Herman all go out of their way to make their base comfortable and accessible to the turtles and Mondo and Pete, like it really matters to them that the younger mutants have a safe place tucked away that they can fall back on. 
And Raph had appreciated that, up until now. Up until they proved it wasn’t safe, actually. Up until he’d seen a grown man leering meanly at his baby brother, just because he thought he could keep getting away with it.
When Hob does speak, all he says is, “Get home safe, boys.”
Raph shoulders around him, and collects Donnie and Mikey from the main room immediately. Mikey says, “Woah, are you guys okay?” and Donnie shoots a poisonous look behind them, like if he glares hard enough he can see back in time to what happened to put those expressions on Leo and Raph’s faces. 
“We’re peachy, Miguelito,” Leo says, disquietingly convincing. “Just had a difference of opinion with our hosts is all.” 
“Stay out of Hell’s Kitchen from now on until I say so,” Raph adds sternly. 
Raph tells dad about Liam when they get home, because there is no universe where that doesn’t happen, and Leo immediately gets hauled into Splinter’s room for what sounds like a very serious conversation. Raph, Donnie and Mikey cluster shamelessly outside the door to eavesdrop, and some frightened thing in Raph’s heart lets out the breath it’s been holding when Leo says, “Nothing happened, papa, I promise. He was just weird.”
“Let him be weird to my Baby Blue one more time and I will show him exactly why your father was the undisputed Battle Nexus champion,” Splinter says. He cups Leo’s face and rubs his thumb over a striped cheek, as if he’d like to keep his son right there where no one had the capacity to hurt him. “Thank you for telling us. I’m so proud of you. I will actually kill him if he looks at you again.”
Leonardo smiles brightly, daddy’s boy of the family and glutton for attention that he is, those leftover dregs of anxiety in his eyes finally melting away. 
“I think we should let dad kill him,” Donnie announces, eyes icy, tone flat. 
“Nah,” Mikey says, disingenuously cheerful. “Next time we run into Liam I’m setting him the fuck on fire!” 
“Language,” Raph scolds by rote, but his heart isn’t in it. 
He can’t get that scene he walked in on back at the railyard out of his head. He can’t help thinking what if something worse had happened because I didn’t listen? 
It feels like there’s a ghost in his chest, rattling his heart. He’s haunted by the what if. 
——
After dinner, Leo looks at Raph meaningfully and points at the infirmary. Doctor Leo’s orders supersede all others, 100% of the time, so Raphael sighs and surrenders his controller to Mikey’s grabby hands without bothering to make the token argument. He keeps driving Princess Peach off the track anyway. 
“Have you been stretching?” Leo says, feeling along Raph’s upper arm, where the muscles are visibly knotted. Even his careful touch hurts—that whole side of his body is tender with pain. Raph can’t help but flinch when his shoulder spasms and Leo hisses. “Shit, sorry, I know, I know it hurts. God, Raphie, you gotta say something before it gets this bad. I’m not afraid to bench you, big guy.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Raph says, amused by his little brother’s no-nonsense tone, warmed by the care Leo always takes with his family when they’re sitting in his infirmary and putting their hurts in his hands. 
There’s nothing performative about him here. It’s just Leo, stripped of every false layer. 
“Let’s try to massage it out,” Leo says, all his attention bent to the task. “Then we’ll apply heat.” 
Raph hums, watching him work. His arm radiates pain, and he has to grit his teeth as Leo goes to work on the knots and the ache flares close to unbearable and wanes to a dull throb and then flares again. 
“Hey,” Raph says before he can overthink it any more. “What would you have done if I didn’t see you and Liam?”
Leo pauses, but only for a split-second. He’s as good as cornered here, because there’s no way he’ll leave Raph when he’s in pain, and there’s nowhere to hide. Thankfully for Raph’s sanity, he doesn’t try to pretend he doesn’t know what they’re talking about, even if he takes a long moment to finally answer. 
“Would’ve made Angie make me a Portal Promise to never be alone with him,” Leo admits. Flushing slightly, he mumbles, “It’s, uh, a thing we do—we both make portals, you know, so—it just means we have to keep that promise no matter what happens or what rules we have to break, and we won’t get in trouble later as long as we’re honest.” 
Raph’s heart hurts. His little brothers are so sweet, and people exist in the world who would hurt them, and he has no idea how to reconcile that. He hates that both things could be true at the same time. 
“Tello doesn’t need to be encouraged to stay away from people, and I’m pretty sure he can read my mind? But I would’ve told him anyway,” Leo goes on. “I tell him everything. I’d try to word it so he didn’t get angry enough to do something drastic, like, cut the brake lines on Liam’s Toyota Corolla. And I’d have to make it sound like you and I were on the same page, otherwise he’d go to you about it, and you’d—uh, be annoyed that I didn’t drop it, I guess.”
Getting impaled by the Krang hurt less than this, Raph thinks. He feels sick. 
“Leo—”
“I know,” Leo says quickly, a little too loud. “I know that I don’t always take stuff seriously. It’s not your fault for thinking—you know. You didn’t do anything wrong, Raphie. I just gotta grow up.”
This kid, who—like the rest of them—has already matured well past his age, well before he should have had to. Who’s terrified of letting his family down, who has so much he thinks he needs to live up to. Any perceived failure weighs on him like the death penalty, and Raph knows he had a hand in that. 
He needs to listen. Even when he’s aching and short-tempered. Even when Leo is talking around something that scares him. Maybe especially then. 
“Can we make a deal?” Raph says, reaching up to hold Leo’s hands still under one of his own. Leo is staring hard at Raph’s plastron and doesn’t seem willing to lift his eyes for love or money, but he jerks his head in a nod. “Next time I’m not hearing you, and it’s something serious like today was serious, tell me, and I’ll stop.”
Leo’s mouth twists a bit. If it were for anyone else’s sake, he’d get in Raph’s face and make himself heard no problemo, but it’s an entirely different story when it’s his own safety in question. That part of Leo that wants to always rely on his brothers is constantly at war with the part that believes he’s not supposed to need anyone’s help anymore. 
It would be impossible for him to plant himself like a tree and refuse to be budged and demand Raph’s attention if he thought for one second that it would make Raph angry at him. 
“What if we came up with a code word?” Raph offers, squeezing Leo’s hands. “If I’m being a stubborn punk, you can tell me the code word, and I’ll listen, and I won’t get mad. Even if it turns out to be a mistake or a misunderstanding. Okay?”
He finally gets a peek of gold as Leo dares to make eye contact. He looks embarrassed, like they’ve made a huge deal out of nothing, and hiding inside his shell until everyone promises to pretend like nothing happened is looking more tempting by the second. 
But he’s Leo, their fearless leader. He stared down that portal into the prison dimension without flinching. If he can do that, he can do anything. 
“What word?” he finally says. 
“You pick,” Raph tells him. 
A smile creeps onto Leo’s face, picking its way carefully across shaky ground. 
“‘Goose’,” he suggests. Raph lifts his good arm and drags him into a solid hug, ignoring the twinge in his back and side. His little brother scrambles to return the hug, shoving his face against Raph’s unscarred shoulder and clinging for all he’s worth. Which is a lot. He’s worth so much. 
Later, when Raph’s got the electric heating pad on his arm and he and Leo are watching TikTok compilations to pass the time, Mikey comes through the infirmary door at top speed, waving his phone above his head like a maniac. 
“Look what Mondo sent me!” he shouts at full volume. “I put it in the group chat!”
The video shared in the Mad Dogz chat shows Liam being kicked out of the railyard, his bags tossed into the road. Sally is going off at him at the top of her lungs, and Hob is standing by with his arms folded like he’s fully ready to let her maul the guy, and the rest of the grown-up mutants are making it pretty clear with their body language that the goose isn’t welcome anymore. 
“Dunno what they saw on the security cam, but they effin’ hated it,” Mondo says in the recording, unbothered by the absolute chaos unfolding in front of him. “Good riddance, Liam sucks. Oh, Mikester, Hob wants to know if you guys’ll be back in the Kitchen for Herman’s D&D oneshot on Saturday so he knows how much food to order. He said you should bring your dad around this time—as if we need another boring old man in the group, ugh. Anyway, let me know and I’ll pass it along, dude!”
A weight Raph hadn’t even realized he was still carrying melts off his shoulders. Leo huffs under his breath, a disbelieving little laugh. 
“Can we go, Raphie?” Mikey asks with wide eyes. “Don worked so hard on all our character sheets. He even 3D-printed custom figurines.”
“My bard is going to carry this team,” Donnie says loudly from the next room, because he’s never met a private conversation he wouldn’t shamelessly listen in on. 
It’s so important to the Mutanimals that their young friends feel safe with them, and here’s proof of that in Mikey’s hands. Raph doesn’t fully understand why they care, but he’s grateful that they do. It didn’t hit him until now how much it hurt to have the railyard taken away—and how relieved he is that they can go back, after all. 
He squeezes the arm he still has around Leo’s shoulders, prompting his brother to look up at him. 
“What do you say, Fearless?” he says warmly. “Your call.”
Raph’s listening this time. 
194 notes · View notes
matrixbearer2024 · 2 days
Note
If you take spicy requests, can you write about Ford teasing reader during sex? Like making the reader begging Ford to stop teasing them sexually
A/N: OH HELL YES LEZZGO! This man, this man istfg there's two sides of his fanbase and that's either him being an inexperienced cutie or a straight up sex god. WHAT THOSE FINGERS DO THOOO- remember ya'll my inbox is open for more spazz about this mans come feed me ideas HAHAHAHA- ANYWAY- because this is a spicy 18+ request, fic is under the cut.
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
Addicted (Stanford Pines x Reader)
Ford just couldn’t get enough of you, his love, his life, his vice, his addiction. You drove him crazy by simply existing, he couldn’t get enough. Now presented with the opportunity to return the favor, Stanford Pines was going to go the full nine yards and maybe an extra mile.
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You didn’t know how you got in this situation to be totally honest; back pressed against the wooden walls of your shared bedroom while being kissed senseless by no one other than Stanford Pines. In one moment you were both sharing wine late into the night, laughing and chatting about whatever. In the next– you were here, the alcohol forgotten as you got drunk on something entirely different. 
Fingers tangled into his hair, you returned his passionate kisses with a fervour; earning a deep grunt from the scientist. The tension wound tight between the both of you, intense and electrifying every action and setting it alight. You were drowning in this man, intoxicated by the smell of leather and ink that clung to him like a second skin. There wasn’t anyone else you knew who could swear the scent of a library like an irresistible cologne. 
Thirty years had been far too long.
Ford couldn’t tell where his desire began and his affections ended, the situation played with his head like a snake eating it’s own tail. It should have already triggered the alarms in his head the second you came to him with a bottle of Port, all the more when you offered to share. Now, the uncorked beverage simply sat off to the side; an afterthought halfway empty. 
It wasn’t as if Stanford didn’t have self-control, the man was disciplined and strict especially with himself. The problem starts when you’re introduced into that situation. You leave Ford grasping at straws to maintain a coherent mind, much less a sane one. Like the differing poles of a magnet, the two of you were just drawn to each other for reasons words couldn’t begin to explain.
One was so bored of the mundane ordinary, the other wanted to find respite in it.
A sharp gasp spilled from your lips when Stanford so easily hefted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist for purchase. You both surged on like desperate teenagers getting lost and crazy in each other. Ford quickly took the opportunity to trail kisses down your neck and on your collar, sucking a couple hickeys that caused you to squirm and cry out for him. 
The idea that he’s able to maneuver you like this, to position you in any way he wanted with ease really set something off in your brain. Likewise, the way you writhed against him drove your lover up a damn wall. The way your fingers shakily dug into the knit of his turtleneck made Ford’s ego swell with pride. It was because of him you were like this, pliant and at his mercy.
Initially, he felt guilty for even indulging in the first kiss when you both shared that glass. One turned to two, then three and four; another and another no matter how much he tried to stop. You kept pushing his buttons and foolish as ever, Stanford kept falling for it. 
He told himself that he was going to take it slow with you, to treat you like royalty the way you deserved. Hilariously enough, Stanford failed to factor in that for every queen– there was a king; and you would stop at nothing to treat him as such.
The researcher knew the buzz that ran in his veins wasn’t because of the ethanol he consumed; the tightness in his slacks and heat in his blood wasn’t because he was inebriated. Sure, he was completely wasted; lightheaded, dizzy and incoherent, but it wasn’t because of the Port. 
Need burned through his flesh when you roughly pulled him back to meet your lips, a low moan slipping from your lover when you lightly tugged at his silver strands. His hands firmly gripped your hips in retaliation while fingers danced around the waistband of your pyjama bottoms.
“Ford. Bed. Now.”
You mumbled amidst fervent kisses, the scientist shivering at the stern tone of your instruction. It was always like this between the both of you; a push and pull that didn’t have just one person explicitly calling the shots. His heart thundered against his ribcage when you nibbled at his bottom lip, you just couldn’t stop teasing him for even a moment could you?
Stanford didn’t dare to break away from kissing you as he clumsily shuffled over to the bed nearby, he was surprised he still even had as much coordination as he did with you distracting him this much; and as if luck decided to taunt him with a jinx– Ford tripped and caused the both of you to ungraciously tumble on top of the mattress.
You both shared a surprised look when that happened before breaking out into giggles, that was an overdue dampener; not to mention extremely sobering. Your lover awkwardly scratched the back of his neck and shyly looked away as he adjusted his glasses, only then did you realise how much of a number you really did on him. 
Tousled hair, red-faced, swollen lips, it really reminded you of the first time you’d both gotten carried away snogging back in university. Though, back then you’d both been interrupted for different reasons. Stanford looked really adorable like this, plus– he’d gone all bashful. 
You were hoping tonight would end in a different way though. 
Gently cupping his cheek, you urged the man to look at you again and gave him a brief peck on the nose. You knew you’d gotten the reaction you wanted when the flame of desire reignited behind his eyes. Moving his spectacles to rest on top of his head, you leaned forward to whisper in his ear,
“I never said we had to stop~”
The response was instantaneous, an excited squeal erupting from your throat as Stanford pinned you down against the bed. He was capable of doing a lot, even back then; you just had to poke and prod him to elicit the reactions you wanted. The researcher just smiled down at you amused, leaning down to meet your lips in a gentle kiss.
“You’re still a minx.”
“I’m your minx.”
That sass quickly left you when he snapped his hips into yours, despite the fact you were both clothed– you could feel his arousal through the fabric. Your face bloomed in a furious red, it’s been so long…
“You look cute.”
Forget his trademark eloquence, the enamoured gaze Ford was giving you sent butterflies to your stomach. He never did look at you with anything less. Curiosity and adoration seemed to mix in his eyes around you, hand in hand and step by step. You sighed happily when he went back to nuzzling your neck, only jolting when you felt his teeth graze your skin. The heat surged in your core, the mood was back.
“May I?”
You’d laugh if it weren’t for the distracting feeling of his calloused palms roaming your skin, your nerves melting and then some from the stimuli. There was no underestimating how much your lover knew, applying that knowledge in practice however… sometimes you’d still get burned since age did make him much bolder compared to back then.
“Yes please.”
That was all the permission he needed, gently biting down on your neck as his hands cupped your breasts.  The moan you let out was no short of sinful, Ford’s eyes narrowed into slits and his actions grew a bit rougher. He felt you shiver when his thumbs brushed over your nipples, arching into his hands as your breathing grew laboured. 
“Ford~!”
The rush of need shot straight down. That had set something off in him, he needed to hear you say his name like that again. Your sweet tone was only doing him in, Stanford couldn’t help bucking his hips into yours and a shiver raced up his spine. You rewarded his actions with another desperate cry of his name.
The scientist thanked his lucky stars that he had the foresight to soundproof the rooms back when he built his home.
Stanford finally allowed his hands to wander elsewhere after some time, moving his lips down to replace his fingers instead when giving your breasts attention. He was being so thorough and meticulous; however, it was driving you crazy just how insanely slow the man was being. 
A small sadistic part of Ford wondered just how far he could take it before you’d beg him to do more; but even that would already be a test of his own control that was rapidly wearing thin thanks to your adorable noises.
“Ford please…”
“Please what my dear?”
You would slap this man for his smug tone if you weren’t so impatient on getting him to rail the thoughts out of you. Even if you squealed in surprise at him suddenly groping your ass, his hands had slipped below the garter of your bottoms and he gently kneaded the supple flesh.
“Don’t– Don’t tease!!!”
You cried out when his teeth grazed your nipple, oh fuck this arrogant man–!
“Why should I?”
Ford chuckled against your skin when one of your legs weakly kicked his side, he continued to press kisses to your chest while one of his hands finally shifted to give you attention where you sought it the most. It didn’t surprise him how soaked you were, but he couldn’t say the same for how receptive you were. Just the faintest touch already had you shaking in his arms.
“Sensitive?”
You kicked him again, only to exclaim in surprise when he started to rub at your clit. You could tell he was still teasing, the pace he chose would sooner drive you crazy from the frustration than the creeping pleasure. All the more when his tongue flicked over a nipple, you screamed his name in frustration.
“Ford!! Please stop teasing!”
“You’ll have to do better than that my love.”
You attempted to buck into his hand but the other was holding you down in place, he sucked harshly on your breast as a consequence and you wailed. It was simultaneously too much and too little, what kind of hell was this?!
“Please~!! Please, Ford! I need–”
He didn’t give you the chance to finish that statement before a finger finally slipped into your entrance, the scientist shivered at how warm and velvety your insides felt wrapped around his finger. He kind of regretted not removing his slacks now prior to this, they were painfully uncomfortable now.
“You’re so pretty for me~”
You whined at the praise, shivering at the gently firm pace he chose in thrusting his finger in and out of you. Pulling him up by the collar, you messily crashed your lips into his again as he added another finger inside of you and curled them. 
He knew how you ticked, what would get you to cave to him. Your head fell back when he purposefully pressed into that spongy part that would have you seeing stars. It should’ve been a bigger concern to you how smug your lover was being, abusing that spot with his fingers until you became an incoherent mess. You cried out his name like a broken record, Ford found himself hooked on it– on you.
“Please– please– Ford–!”
When he slowed his pace down when you got closer to that precipice, you knew he wasn’t going to let you fall over that edge so easily. Fuck. So much for hoping he'd play good boy tonight.
It was going to be one of these nights again.
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Fic is also here on Ao3 :D
215 notes · View notes
sluttywoozi · 7 hours
Text
(Boy)Friend Material | Part II | csc x f!reader
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Part I
Seungcheol really thought that, having met you on a dating app, you'd be more into, well, dating him. He supposes he should have made sure you knew that's what he thought you were doing.
Rating: M (18+) | WC: ~9.2k | Pairing: csc x f!reader | Genre: romance, smut
Warnings: elevator makeouts, minor safe sex discussion, lil tiny mention of birth control making reader depressed, restraining, oral f. rec., vaginal fingering, squirting, sex with a condom, crying during sex
Reader Notes: referred to with she/her pronouns, has two cats, has breasts and a vagina, gets carried by cheol, wap
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Seungcheol is still fucking floored that he’s been dating you without your knowledge for four months. 
All this time, he’s feared that you weren’t as into him as he was into you. What else was he supposed to think when he was constantly the one reaching out? He was the one making the dates, and inviting you to hangouts with his friends, and asking if he could come over and spend time with you. 
He tried not to mind that it was always him hugging you, him wanting to hold your hand, him touching you in all the little ways people in relationships do. He told himself that he just hadn’t discovered your love language yet, and that once he did, things would change. 
Honestly, if you were anyone else, he probably wouldn’t have stuck it out so long. He was willing and able to because you’re you, and he likes you so damn much. 
You got his attention effortlessly with your opener, and the way you committed to the bit instead of backing down or changing the subject kept him interested. Then when he met you, you were somehow even funnier and prettier in person, and he was fucking enchanted. As soon as you parted ways, he was trying to figure out how he could see you again, dreaming up different scenarios and cycling through ideas until finally, he just asked. You said yes, so he kept asking. 
And now here he sits on your couch (where he can be found most Sundays), playing with your cats and listening to your musings as you pack your weekend bag. He doubts you think he can hear you or you probably wouldn’t be asking yourself, “Comfy or sexy?” out loud. He’s not sure which you pick but he’s kind of hoping for comfy because that’s always been sexy to him, the surety that you’re comfortable around him and cozy as can be. 
It’s been a while since his last relationship and he’s not a serial dater like some of his friends, so he was a bit out of practice when he met you. Still, he counted himself lucky that you grew to be so comfortable around him after only a few weeks, though now he knows it’s because you thought he was just your friend. 
He regrets that it took him thinking you wanted to break up to finally be honest about feeling like the relationship was one sided, because everything could have been resolved so long ago. 
All the times he’s thought about kissing you, he could have. Every morning that he’s surprised you with your favorite iced latte, every flower garden that he’s ever brought you to, every movie night that he’s looked over at you and watched the colors dance across your face in the darkness. He could have been kissing you for months, and you could have been kissing him back. 
He mourns the lost time, but part of him can’t be upset this miscommunication happened because it’s made him move with purpose. He’s constantly thinking of you, always trying to be what you need, and he honestly isn’t sure he would know you this well if he didn’t feel like he had to prove himself worthy. 
It’s not like he’s going to stop trying to prove himself now, but it helps to be reassured that your withholding nature wasn’t because he likes you more than you like him, it was because you didn’t know he likes you at all. 
He feels so juvenile talking in terms of like, but he’s a little scared to introduce love to the equation. He could so easily define his feelings for you in that way, but it’s been four months of dating you without you dating him back, and he’s reluctant to take that leap without being sure you’ll take it with him. 
After he bore his soul to you, though, you said all of those things, told him that you don’t ever want to let him go, which sounds a whole lot like a love confession just minus the actual word…
Bluebell paws at his hand, asking for attention, and he grants it, trying to shake off worries that don’t hold weight anymore. Poppy sprawls against his thigh, purring so loud he can feel the vibrations.
This has been enough, he tells himself. Count yourself lucky that it’ll get even better now that she can knowingly participate in the relationship. 
“Ready,” you say in a sing-song voice as you struggle through the door to your bedroom, your shoulder laden down with a duffle and your hand holding your giant water bottle…cup…thing. You’re wearing your favorite lounge set, one he’s seen countless times, but the way the soft fabric clings to the curves of your body still makes his heart pound. 
He rises quickly to greet you, sending Poppy skittering off the couch. She darts over to you, yowling as if he committed a mortal sin, and you pout indulgently at her, asking, “Did the big man scare you? Poor baby.”
He doesn’t mind the teasing, especially when you call him big in the process. 
Before he gets too wrapped up in staring at you, he strides over, carefully taking hold of the strap on your shoulder and lifting until you slide your arm through so he can shoulder the duffle instead. 
“Wanna get a refill before we go? I know you like your water more than mine,” he offers, continuing to say (because you’re so fucking cute when you’re adamant about something), “Even though it tastes the same.”
“It does not taste the same! My water is better and more refreshing!” You claim instantly, walking across the living room to your kitchenette.
“Maybe that’s because I’ve changed your water filter twice since I met you even though it only needs to be changed twice a year.”
“Maybe so, but you’ll change it a third time for our six month anniversary and you’ll do it with a smile on your face,” you playfully command him as you fill your monstrous water container. 
Six month anniversary. So you really do want to keep him around.
“Yeah, baby, I will,” he sighs, hoping you can’t tell that your little light-hearted threat has him feeling like he could drown, he’s so awash in adoration for you. 
“You’ve never called me baby before,” you gasp gleefully, spinning to face him with bright eyes and a wide smile. 
“I didn’t know if you’d like it,” he shrugs, a bit sheepish that it’s taken him this long to test it out. 
“I love it, baby is my name now,” you tell him, screwing the top back onto your water and sounding so serious, it’s almost comical.
You grasp your cup, holding your free hand out to him for what might be the first time. His heart skips a beat as he takes it, intertwining his fingers with yours and following you to your door. 
“Bye Bell, bye Poppy, I love you,” you call out, looking over your shoulder to find your cats already asleep in their favorite spots on your mushroom and flower cat tree. He whispers his own goodbye and closes the door gently, pressing the button and turning the lock until it clicks. 
Immediately, you’re tugging him down the hall and towards the elevator, a chuckle escaping him at the sound of your bubbly laughter and quick footsteps. 
“Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go,” you press the button and chant at the machine, bouncing in place beside him. 
“Excited?” He teases, amused by your lack of patience. 
Your head turns at the speed of light as you look at him with wide eyes and ask, “Aren’t you?” 
He would be sarcastic but it sounds like your heart is primed to break, and he can’t risk hurting you just for a joke. 
“More than I can say,” he answers honestly, expecting your smile but not the way you hustle him into the elevator and back him up against the wall, wrapping your arm around his neck and looking away only to press the ground floor button. 
“You gonna kiss me or not?” He murmurs, his eyes already on your lips as you get close enough for him to feel your chest against his. 
You answer without words, your perfect lips soft and unyielding, his hand dropping to your hip to tug you into his body as your fingernails scratch at the short hair on the nape of his neck. The feeling sends a shiver down his spine and drags a sigh out of his mouth, one that you swallow with a needy gasp. 
He lowers your duffle to the floor, stepping forward until he’s got you against the wall and sliding his thigh between your legs to see what other sounds he can summon from you as his passion starts to overflow. His lips move against yours insistently, a fire lighting up in his veins when you wilt into him and let him take control, the transfer of power mouthwateringly sweet. 
And then you pull away. You pull away and he tries to chase you but you stop him with a hand on his chest, and he won’t push you, he would never push you. 
“Everything okay?” He pants, trying to clear his mind of the thoughts and images of you that fill it. 
“Yeah, it’s just- we’re here,” you whisper, blinking at him and glancing over at the elevator doors. 
The open elevator doors. 
The lobby is empty, but if Seungcheol is being truthful, he thinks he wouldn’t really care if people did see. 
You’re his girlfriend, and he’s your boyfriend. What’s so wrong with it?
Then again, part of him does want to keep you all to himself, kissing in elevators included. Which is why he’s quick to step away from you and take your hand again, grabbing the duffle before pulling you through the lobby and to his car. 
He’s not in such a rush that he won’t still open your door for you, waiting as you get in and gently shutting the door before tucking your bag in the backseat and jogging around to the driver’s side. He closes his door quietly even in his haste, not wanting to startle you or make you think he’s upset in any way.
His hand finds your thigh again after starting the car up and getting on the road, the silence that fills the space anticipatory instead of stifling like it was just an hour ago. He finds himself clenching his jaw and bouncing his left knee, counting down the traffic lights that sit between your place and his until finally, there’s only one left. 
It’s red when he rolls to a stop, and his heart is thumping so hard in his chest that he swears if he looked down, he’d be able to see it beating. He glances over at you and finds you already staring at him, which has happened more than a few times in the months that he’s known you. This time is different, though, because you don’t pretend you weren’t looking, or start rambling nervously, or even look away. 
You just meet his gaze and let him see everything. Your nerves, your desire, your impatience, he sees it all, and feels it all himself. For perhaps the first time since he met you, he knows for certain that you and him are on the exact same wavelength. 
He’s so entranced that he doesn’t notice the light turn green until the car behind him honks, and that disturbance is still barely enough to make him tear his gaze from yours. His eyes reluctantly return to the road as he gives your thigh a gentle squeeze and presses the gas pedal, closing the distance between the light and his parking garage as quickly as the speed limit allows. 
A long minute passes and he’s pulling into his designated parking spot, his seatbelt unbuckled and his door open before the car is even off. Sometimes, you’re distracted and he gets to open your door for you, but this isn’t one of those times. You’re out just as fast as him, meeting him at the trunk and taking his hand. 
Together, you speed walk to the door that opens into his hallway. You pass through first and then he does, your pace getting faster the closer you get to his place until finally, finally, he’s unlocking the door and beckoning you inside. He pauses to slip his sneakers off at the rack and you follow suit, the sight of your shoes next to his lighting up the part of his brain that craves domesticity with you. 
You don’t come over as often as he goes to your place so when you slow, he takes the lead, his hand still holding yours tightly and his heart still racing. 
He doesn’t quite mean to press you up against the wall but he takes a step forward as you take a step back and then it’s just too easy to lean in and taste you again, your lips supple and your sigh sweet. 
The kiss starts off slow, tame, but it’s not long before he’s inching closer and sucking at your bottom lip, his tongue gliding along yours when you open your mouth and let him in. You’re so warm and soft against him, your breasts flush with his chest and his dick starting to throb against your stomach, the combination of sensations making his head spin. 
It seems he can’t get enough of you now after what feels like millions of missed opportunities, millions of times he’s wanted his lips on yours and his hands on your body. He’s lost in you before he knows it, near mindless with desperation and devotion, his hunger for you so overwhelming that he fears no amount of you will ever be enough. 
It’s never been like this before, nobody else has ever made him feel as if he would suffocate without their air or perish without their touch, but here he is, kissing you like you’re breathing pure oxygen and gripping your hips like he’ll fade into nothingness if he lets go. 
He knew you were special to him but he didn’t know he would need you like this, and the realization is enough to make him pull back, saying through sharp breaths, “Maybe we should slow down, I don’t want you to feel like we have to rush.”
You gaze at him, almost through him, and say, with great care, “Seungcheol, I’ve wanted your dick inside me since we met. If you want to slow down, we can, but if I had it my way, we’d be moving even faster.”
And fuck if that isn’t enough to spur him into action, to make his cock twitch in his jeans and his hands fly to your waist, a rough, “Jump,” escaping his swollen lips. 
You gasp but wrap your legs around him when he starts to lift you, his grip shifting to your thighs as you vine your arms around his neck, seemingly holding on for dear life. He’d die before dropping you so you have nothing to worry about, but he’s too focused on getting you to his bed to inform you of that fact. He also maybe likes feeling you cling to him like this too much to give you any reason to stop. 
“We need a condom, right?” He checks as he walks, fairly certain the answer will be yes. 
Jeonghan bought him a box when he first started seeing you, the exact size he needs and brand he likes, and handed them over with a wink and a wiggle of his eyebrows. Seungcheol rolled his eyes at the time, but he’s thankful for him now because he never would have bought them himself, too fearful of jinxing the situation. 
“Yeah, I stopped my birth control, it was making me hella depressed. Is that- I mean, are you okay with using one?” You ask, though you absolutely don’t need to. 
“Baby, all I care about is making you feel safe. I’ll wear a condom, I’ll pull out, I’ll do whatever you want.”
“You’re the best boyfriend,” you sigh, hugging him tightly and pressing a kiss to his cheek as he crosses through the doorway to his bedroom.
He left it relatively clean, thankfully, and there’s nothing embarrassing out, unless he counts the picture of him and you that he got framed last month to keep on his nightstand. You see it when he carefully deposits you onto your back on the mattress, your face twisting up like you might cry. 
He’s alarmed until you say, “I have that photo framed on my nightstand.”
The fact that you have one is enough to make him smile but the fact that you picked the same picture is enough to make him fucking beam, his lips stretched too wide to kiss you even though he really wants to. 
He tries anyway, his smile fading as he braces a hand next to your head and presses his mouth to yours, climbing up on the bed when you grip his shirt and start to pull him. He’s imagined this so many times, pictured you under him and on top of him and in front of him (face down, ass up as he slides inside of you). 
He’s made himself cum to the thought of you in this bed, and now that he has you here, he almost doesn’t know where to start. You seem to have your own ideas and desires though, and he’d give anything to find out what they are. 
So, like Seungcheol always has, he just asks. 
“You said you’ve wanted me since we met… What have you thought about?” His voice is ragged when he speaks, deep, but he thinks you like it, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip before your breath leaves you in a sigh. 
“Lots of things,” you whisper, your hands skimming down his chest until they find the hem of his shirt and start to push it up. He sits back on his knees between your legs and hauls it off, fighting a smirk at the way your eyes grow hazy.
You hesitate to put your hands on him, so he takes one of them in his own and presses your palm to his stomach, his muscles jumping at your warm, gentle touch. 
“Like what?” 
“Like… how big you probably are. If you’d be soft and sweet or if you’d be a little rough, a little mean.” 
Following your words, he drags your hand down and lets you feel him, his dick hard and pressing into the zipper of his jeans. You can’t cover all of it, but you close your fingers around the shaft as best you can and rub firmly, one, two, three times. 
“Fuck,” he sighs as you squeeze, the pressure making his eyelids flutter as pleasure sparks within him. “Which do you want more? Soft and sweet or rough and mean? I can be whatever you want.”
“You’re already all I want you to be, Cheol, so just be you.”
God, you’re going to be the end of him. Death by swollen heart.
“A bit of both it is then,” he murmurs as he leans down to kiss you, shifting his grip to your wrist before pushing your hand up to rest beside your head. He does the same with your other hand, leaving you unable to move your upper body. 
He’s about to break away to check in, but you melt into the bed and wrap your legs around his waist, tugging his hips into yours with a soft moan. 
The sound sends a lick of heat down his spine, his dick pulsing in time with his heart and so hard, it almost hurts. He breathes a shuddering sigh into your mouth and grinds into you, wishing his jeans could magically disappear so he wouldn’t have to stop kissing you to take them off. 
The denim is getting to be too restrictive though, especially when he’s dying to feel you with no barriers at all. So he tries to pull back, but you whimper into his mouth and hug him closer with your legs, and the only way he can respond to that is by kissing you harder and letting his body press into yours. 
He’s gone for you for a few more minutes, his jeans all but forgotten as you roll your hips against his and sink your teeth into his bottom lip. The slight sting makes him gasp and dig his cock into you in retaliation, his hands tightening around your wrists when you just push back and bite his lip again. 
It feels almost impossible to pull away from you now but he can’t take it anymore, the clothes need to come off, yours in particular. He’s imagined this too often and wanted you for too long to make this a quick, messy, fully-clothed fuck. You deserve better, you deserve everything, and he’s going to do his absolute best to give it to you. 
So he breaks the connection, ignoring the whine that escapes you to pant out, “I’ll kiss you again when we’re naked, promise.”
“Yes, oh my god, take your pants off,” you reply in a rush, your eyes lighting up as you attempt to free your wrists from his hold. He releases you immediately, but he climbs off the bed before you can wrestle his jeans down, his hands finding yours and pulling until you stand with him. With a laugh, he says, “I said ‘when we’re naked,’ baby. That means you, too.”
“Strip me then,” you raise your arms, a challenge in your gaze, and he can do nothing but accept it, tugging your shirt up and off and freezing in place when he sees what you have on under it. 
“Fuck me,” he murmurs, staring at the cherry red lace that encases your breasts. There are delicate little bows on the straps and the lace is so fine that he can see right through it, could probably rip it without even trying. 
“Did you wear this for me?” He asks absentmindedly, his eyes caught on your tits as they rise and fall with your breathing. 
“Yeah, I bought it when we started talking. I thought you’d like it,” you answer softly, tucking your thumbs into the waistband of your lounge pants and pushing them down just enough for him to get a peek of the very same red. “It’s a matching set.”
His knees weak at the thought, he sits heavily on the mattress, setting his hands on your hips and guiding you to stand between his legs. 
“Can I see?” 
“That’s kind of the point,” you whisper like it’s a secret, steadying yourself with your hands on his shoulders as he starts to pull your pants down. They slip off easily and pool on the floor, leaving you nearly bare before him and more bewitching than he could have ever imagined. 
“God, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he sighs out, feeling almost dazed as he takes the sight of you in, his thumbs tracing over the bows that sit on the front of your hips. He sinks his fingertips into you, squeezing to feel the give of your flesh and using all of his willpower to stop himself from tearing the lacy panties right off. 
He could (and would) buy you a new set, but you bought this with him in mind, and had to wait so long to wear it for him. It’s too special for him to damage it just because he’s desperate to see you bare. 
You must be able to read his mind, taking your hands off his shoulders to reach behind your back and undo the clasps, the bra loosening on your body before you shrug it down your arms and toss it on the bed. 
Seungcheol finds himself spellbound once again, captivated by all the skin before him, the way your nipples pebble under his gaze making his breath catch in his chest. “Can I touch you?” 
“I feel like I’ll die if you don’t,” you answer immediately, gasping in relief when he smooths his hands up to cover your breasts. He cups them, testing the weight, and squeezes gently, already obsessed with the feeling of your soft, supple skin under his palms. His thumbs drag over your nipples, circling them until you let out a quiet little whimper, one that he would give his life to hear again. 
“Lay down for me, baby,” He requests, needing you spread out before him so he can fully drink you in. 
Forgetting a change in position means he has to stop touching you, he pouts when you step out of his reach, though he’s distracted almost instantly by the cheeky cut of your panties. 
He stands on knees that are still slightly weak, getting out of your way and watching as you climb up on the bed. He tries not to ogle you but your ass looks so fucking biteable from here, and he can’t even let himself focus on the space between your legs because he just might combust if he gets a good look.
You settle on your back in the center of the mattress and he feels his heart squeeze at the sight of you in his bed. He’s wanted you in it for months, and not just for sex, but for cuddling and reading together and falling asleep in each other’s arms, too. So much time has been wasted, but he won’t let it bother him, not when this literally feels like a dream come true. 
He starts moving toward you, trying to formulate a game plan for how he can kiss your stomach and suck one of your nipples at the same time, but you hold a hand out and say, “Stop.”
Every muscle in his body locks up, his heart pounding in anxiety that he’s done something wrong, that you’ve changed your mind about him, that you- 
“Don’t look so worried, Cheollie, I just want you to take your jeans off,” you soothe, making him sigh out his stress and squeeze his eyes shut. 
“Listen to me, Seungcheol. I like you so much that it scares me sometimes. I like you in a way that is concerning to my friends. I like you more than I have ever liked anyone else. My crush on you is deeper than the Mariana Trench,” you say emphatically. “I will tell you this until you believe it.”
Fuck, he feels like he might cry. 
Hearing these words from you is affirming beyond belief, soothing to his very soul, and the steadiness and truth in your voice as you said them is what gives him the courage to admit it. 
“I think I’m in love with you,” he whispers quietly, his eyes still closed. He hears rustling, envisions you making your way to the edge of the bed, and he’s not surprised when he feels your hands take his. 
“I know I’m in love with you,” you whisper back, your fingers intertwined with his and your voice just as sure as before. 
He blinks his eyes open, finds you staring up at him with a teary, affection-soaked gaze, and can’t stop himself from leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. The kiss stays chaste and soft even though your tits are out and he’s harder than he’s ever been in his life, this moment so precious to him, his desire takes the back burner. 
Until you pull back and tell him, “Now take your pants off, please. I’m so fucking wet for you.”
Fuck the back burner, you just lit the stove on fire. He unbuttons his jeans, the fly barely halfway down before he’s shoving them off and stepping out of them, kicking them away like their presence offends him. You didn’t ask him to, but he sheds his boxer briefs as well, feeling his cock pop up and hit his stomach before it hangs heavily between his legs. 
Your eyes grow wide and you open your mouth to say something, but he can’t stop hearing, ‘I’m so fucking wet for you,’ the words seared into his brain forevermore. 
“Let me eat you out?” He practically begs, willing to ask again on his knees if you want him to. 
“I love that you ask, but you don’t need to anymore. Just do what feels right and I’ll stop you if I don’t like it,” you promise, laying back and lifting your ass for him as he slips his fingers into the waistband of your panties and starts to tug them down. 
And shit, they’re soaked, fucking sodden with your arousal, the lace sticking to your pussy as he peels them away. He can feel his mouth water when the scent of you fills his nose, leaving him breathless and near brainless with need for you.
Sinking to his knees, he gently pushes your thighs apart to reveal the prettiest fucking pussy he’s ever seen. Maybe he just thinks that because it’s yours, but that doesn’t really matter when you’re glistening and open and all for him. 
He’s always imagined himself having some amount of finesse when he finally got his tongue between your legs, always pictured going slow and taking you apart piece by piece, or at least pacing himself even a little bit. Now that he’s here, with his hands on your thighs and his face just inches from you, he knows that won’t be the case at all. 
You smell too fucking good for him to hesitate any longer, his tongue darting out and dragging from your opening to your clit. He can’t hold in the groan that leaves him at the first taste of you, his cock twitching as your arousal coats his taste buds, heady and rich and perfect. His eyes flutter closed and he buries his face in your cunt, pushing your thighs up to your stomach so he has more room to work. 
He feels your hands against his, feels them hooking beneath your knees to hold your thighs up for him, and he moans gratefully in response, setting his thumbs on either side of your pussy and pulling your lips apart so he can taste you more directly. 
He dips his tongue into your entrance and you clench around it, the sensation making him whimper into your pussy and delve even deeper inside. Just this might not be enough to get you there but you taste fucking heavenly and feel even better, and he’s wanted his mouth on you like this for months. 
So he allows himself to be selfish for a few minutes, fucking you with his tongue just to feel the way you quiver and squeeze around the muscle. Your arousal starts to leak down his chin and he almost regrets the waste of it, pulling his tongue from your pussy to latch his lips to your opening and suck. 
“Seungcheol, please, I need-,” you implore him, your words halting when he fills you with two of his fingers, the digits sinking inside with a squelch. You whine above him and his gaze travels up your body to find your back arched and your kiss-swollen lips parted, every sound that escapes them like music to his ears. 
Fuck, you’re a goddamn wet dream.
His fingers curl inside of you, exploring until he finds that patch of nerves along your front wall. As soon as he grazes it, you gasp brokenly and buck into his touch, making him bite his lip and return his eyes to your pussy and the way it swallows his fingers. His mouth finds your clit and suctions around it, the little bud firm under his tongue as he flicks it back and forth, following your sounds to find what you like best. 
“Cheol, I-I’m getting close,” you moan out in a warning tone, but it only makes him more determined, his fingertips grinding into you and his lips puckering around your clit. You seem to love it when he sucks in pulses and crooks his fingers into your sweet spot at the same time so he sets a quick tempo, hoping to help you find the edge and then tip you over it. 
It happens sooner than he expects, the molten velvet of your cunt tightening around his fingers rhythmically as your cries reach a fever pitch. He doesn’t stop, wonders if he even could when you’re making the noises you are and begging him, “Please, Cheollie, please.”
He would soothe you but his mouth is still hard at work on your clit, his tongue rolling over the bud again and again as his fingers prod that spot inside of you. Soon enough, you can’t speak, just sobbing and sinking a hand into his hair to hold him in place, your thigh falling to rest on his shoulder. 
He doesn’t mind the weight, loves your soft skin against his ear and the feeling of you pressing his face into your pussy, as if he’d even consider pulling away now. You want to cum again, he can tell, and he’s not going to stop until you do. 
He fucks his fingers in and out of you faster, pursing his lips around your clit and sucking deeply, grumbling and groaning into you in encouragement, his brows furrowed and his vision hazy. 
Your cunt spasms around his fingers, growing impossibly wetter and locking down like a vise until all he can do is curl his fingertips into your sweet spot and dig his tongue into your clit. A sharp whine pierces the air and your thigh trembles on his shoulder as you break, arousal gushing out of you in spurts to coat his neck and drip down over his collarbones. 
It’s the only flood he’s ever been thankful for, and before you’ve even started to recover, he’s already voicing his gratitude.
“Fucking beautiful, baby. That was the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me, oh my god,” he mumbles, pressing kisses along the thigh that rests on his shoulder, withdrawing his fingers to clean them off with his mouth. 
“I didn’t know I could do that,” you whisper dreamily, struggling to lift your head. 
He lowers your thigh and rises to his feet, shaking out his stiff legs before leaning down over you and letting you taste yourself on his lips. The kiss grows deep in an instant, his tongue sliding into your mouth as you wrap your legs around him and pull his body into yours. His aching dick gets trapped in between until you reach down and take hold of it, guiding it to rest against your hot, wet cunt. 
That first bit of contact is enough to pull a low groan from him, the slippery heat of your pussy on the top side of his cock making him throb and leak against you. He’s so fucking desperate for you but there’s only one thing that he wants more than to sink inside of you bare right now, and that’s to respect your wishes (and not get you pregnant… for the next year or two, at least). 
Maybe someday he can fuck you without a condom but that day won’t be today, so with great difficulty, he drags his lips away from yours and reaches an arm out to pull open his bedside drawer. He feels around for a second, exclaiming victoriously when his fingers catch on the box before he takes hold of it and sets it on the bed. 
Looking back at you for approval, he finds you beaming up at him like he hung the stars in the sky just so you could bask in their light, and fuck, he swears he’d rearrange them all in the shape of you, given the chance. 
He fumbles one-handed with the box for a minute, his other hand braced next to your head to keep himself from crushing you, before you take over and tear it open, ripping a packet off the strip and tossing the rest onto his nightstand. 
“We’ll need those for later,” you inform him matter-of-factly as you unwrap the condom and reach down to wrap your fingers around his dick. He’s been leaking enough precum that your hand glides when you pump it up and down, and it takes an astounding amount of self control not to fuck into your grasp as if he’s never been touched before. 
You place the condom at his tip and start to roll it on and even that is heavenly, your touch electric and your eyes bright like the summer sun when your gaze meets his. He feels you line him up, his cock jumping at just the thought of being inside your perfect cunt, barrier or no barrier. Your legs tighten around his waist, pulling his hips into yours, and he takes that for the hint it is. 
Sucking in a deep breath, he starts to sink into you, the head of his cock pushing through the tightness of your entrance to disappear inside of you inch by inch. He goes slowly, both to give you time to adjust and to give himself the opportunity to get it together, the blazing heat and intoxicating grip of your pussy wiping out every coherent thought in his brain. There’s a stretch but it’s eased by your arousal, and the way he can feel you relaxing and opening up to accept him is nothing short of exquisite. 
“How does it feel?” He gasps out raggedly, watching your face as he finally bottoms out. Your eyebrows are scrunched up and your pretty lips are parted, soft breaths escaping as you hitch your thighs up higher on his waist and let your eyes blink open. 
They’re full of tears, making him blanch and immediately start to pull his hips back, sure that he’s hurting you and you’ve been unable to even speak through the pain to tell him. 
“No, stay! Stay, Cheollie, it’s fucking perfect,” you plead in a broken voice, hugging him closer with your legs and wrapping your arms around his neck. 
“Then why are you crying?” He asks, confused and still slightly worried though the fluttering of your walls around him is enough to make him want to cry too. 
“I’ve just wanted you for so long, and you make me feel even better than I ever dreamed you would,” you tell him through a wobbly smile. “I think you’re my missing piece.” 
“Baby,” he sighs lovingly as he melts against you and drops down to his elbows to press his lips to yours, the movement burying him just a bit deeper inside and making both you and him moan in pleasure. 
He doesn’t think he even knows words that could explain how flawless, how right you feel around him, but he can at least try, for you. 
“Being inside of you is like… coming home. Like I’ve been wandering in the cold my whole life and I finally found somewhere soft and warm and safe to rest. I kind of want to never leave,” he murmurs, resting his forehead against yours and gazing into your eyes as he speaks. 
“You may not be able to stay forever but I’ll always want you to come home again,” you promise him gently. “You will leave enough to move, though, right? Because-”
Laughing, he squeezes his eyes shut and steels himself before pulling his hips back a few inches, the drag of your clenching walls on his cock enough to steal his breath even with the latex in between. He tries to go slowly as he presses back into you, but the igneous embrace of your cunt draws him in with one effortless, gliding thrust. 
Somehow, burying himself inside of you the second time feels even better than the first, and it’s easier to withdraw from your warmth again when he realizes that the pleasure will only compound as he moves more and more. 
Fighting to keep his eyes open and on your face while he establishes a rhythm, he builds speed until the catch in your breath and the fluttering of your eyelashes tells him he’s found the best pace for you. He can’t make it out more than a couple inches before your legs around his waist stop him, but he loves that you want him inside as much as he wants to be inside, so he just puts more power behind his hips as he slides back in to make sure you feel it. 
Time starts to pass and he falls into something like a trance, the feeling of your pussy clinging to him as he leaves and cradling him as he returns hypnotic. It’s almost as if he’s lost the ability for complex thought and replaced it with pure sensation, just acting on instinct now that his brain has been rendered useless. 
It doesn’t help that your gaze is deep, mesmerizing, fucking magnetic. He can’t look away, feels like he can’t even blink as he fucks into you, his face close enough to yours that he’s breathing your air. Still, he wants to be even closer, wants to burrow inside of you, climb into your ribcage, and make a home right next to your heart. 
The desire is so intense, it’s nearly frightening, but nothing could scare Seungcheol away from you now. He’s yours, mind, body, and soul, belonging to you in a way he’s never allowed himself to belong to anyone else before. 
He hates to admit it, but he’s already starting to get close. Lasting has never been an issue for him, even in the past few months when all he could think about was you, but thinking about you and being inside of you are two very different things. Your pussy is goddamn magical, everything about fucking you is goddamn magical, and he fears his only hope is in changing positions. 
“Baby, can I- shit, can I fuck you from behind?” He stalls his movements long enough to ask, dreading the moment he’ll have to pull out completely so you can turn over. 
“Um, yes but…I honestly don’t know if I can hold myself up,” you reluctantly admit, like you think it’s something to be embarrassed about. 
“That’s what pillows and my hands are for,” he assures you, smiling at the way you relax and unwrap your legs from his waist, allowing him to begin the process of extricating himself from you. 
Slowly, he begins to draw his hips back, ignoring the alarm bells that ring in his head as he feels his cock leave your heat inch by inch. It’s only for a minute or two, he tells himself, pushing off of you and sitting up so you can get onto your stomach. 
He watches your body move as you roll over, his eyes stuck on the curve of your plush ass before you get your knees under you and they shift to the gleam of your wet, fucked open cunt. Keeping his gaze on you, he reaches to the head of the bed and grabs the two pillows that rest there, sliding them under your hips one after another. You sink into position, your back arched and your cheek pressed against his sheet, completely relaxed even with your body on full display for him. 
The groan escapes without his permission, the memory of your taste on his tongue making his mouth water. Before he knows it, he’s on his stomach too and burying his face in your pussy, reaching up to press down on the small of your back so you arch even deeper into him. 
“Cheol!” You gasp, pushing back onto his tongue when he shoves it inside of you, making him whimper into your cunt as he devours you. 
“Never gonna get enough of this pussy, fuck,” he mutters as he shifts his focus to your clit, wrapping his lips around the bud and sucking in pulses. He doesn’t know how long he eats you out, just that he goes until you’re dripping down his face again and squirming against him, desperate to cum. 
“Seungcheol, please, I ne-need your cock, need you to fill me up,” you cry out, reaching back and gripping one of his hands where it holds you down. 
His dick jumps and leaks into the condom at your words, the plea in your voice sparking a shiver he feels all the way from his scalp to his toes. Pulling his tongue from you, he rises back up on his knees and shuffles forward, taking hold of his cock and gliding it up and down the seam of you, nudging at your clit. 
“Cheol,” you begin, likely about to threaten him. He would love to hear it but your entrance catches on the head of his dick and he can’t resist the alluring, feverish depths of your cunt, sliding inside in one long, ruthless thrust. 
You keen when he reaches the end of you but you also tilt your hips to accept the last inch, the snug clutch of your pussy near mythical in the bliss it brings him. With one hand gripping your hip to hold you up and the other firm on the small of your back to keep you in place, he starts thrusting in and out of you. 
The tempo he takes is brutal, fierce, the force of his hips impacting your ass making it ripple and bounce as he fucks into you. His hearing is fuzzy with how fucking good it feels but he can still make out the smack of his skin against yours and the slick sound of his cock gliding through your wetness. There’s a squelch every time he bottoms out, and accompanied by your whines and whimpers, all of the noises combine to create a masterpiece of a melody. 
Seungcheol truly thought the pause would help but he’s right back where he started, throbbing and leaking for you and so fucking close to the edge, he’s concerned he’ll make it there before you do. Sure, you already came twice, but you deserve a third, a fourth if he can hold himself back long enough - one orgasm for every month he spent not making you cum. 
The hand on your back slips around under your hips, working itself down between your legs to find your clit. It’s swollen beneath his fingers, slippery from the arousal his dick keeps pushing out, which only makes it easier to swirl circles into the bud, the way your pussy instantly clenches around him making him moan roughly. 
The added resistance just enhances each stroke, your walls trying to suck his cock back in when he pulls out and hugging him tighter and tighter every time he pushes inside again. He fears he won’t be able to make you cum without it making him cum too, but there’s something so poetic about finding that euphoria together that he can’t be bothered about breaking this soon. 
“Getting close, baby?” He asks, fairly sure what your answer will be. 
“Yeah, Cheollie, wan-wanna cum with you inside me so bad,” you gasp, craning your neck to look back at him. “Thought about it every time I-” 
You can’t finish your sentence when his fingers start to move faster, but he thinks he knows where you were going with it. 
“Every time you fucked yourself, you wished it was me instead, huh?” He teases a little meanly, knowing he has no room to talk.
Your face crumples as you nod, tears filling your eyes, and he leans down over you, his hand leaving your hip to brace himself so he doesn’t suffocate you. He presses his lips to your cheek, your jaw, your neck, murmuring, “I did the same fucking thing, baby, and I always wanted it to be you.”
“Promise?” You whisper, a vulnerable tinge to your voice. He’s reminded that, until tonight, you had no idea how he felt about you. This is all still new, and he needs to be kind, delicate, reassuring as you acclimate to the reality of him being in love with you. 
Stopping all movement so you can fully focus on his words, he whispers back, “Cross my heart and hope to die. Ever since we met, I’ve thought about you, wanted you, dreamed about you. I fell for you. You’re it for me.” 
“You're it for me too, Seungcheol,” you tell him gently, before asking, “Can I turn back over? I want you to hold me.”
He answers by smacking one last kiss to your cheek and climbing off of you, helping to roll you onto your back and pulling one of the pillows out from under your hips, leaving you slightly elevated but not so much that it’s uncomfortable. Sighing contentedly as he stretches himself out along your body, he slides his forearm under your shoulders to pull you into his chest and holds himself up with that elbow, slipping the other hand between your bodies to guide his dick inside of you. 
“Better?” He confirms, grinning when you nod shyly and wrap your arms around his neck, your legs rising to encircle his waist as he sinks back into you. He hopes you feel as held by him as he feels by you, the sheer comfort and safety of your body enough to make his eyes water this time. 
He moves slowly, carefully, rocking in and out of you at a steady pace, never leaving you more than halfway before burying himself inside again. The brief pause did wonders for his self control, his release feeling far enough away that he thinks he really might be able to get you there once before he lets you pull him over the edge too. 
Until you start kissing him, that is. 
Once your lips meet his and your tongue slips into his mouth, every part of him is wrapped up in loving you. There’s not a single thing on his mind except for you, every thought dedicated to kissing you, fucking you, pleasing you, and it feels so goddamn right. Like this is what he was made for. 
And fuck if that doesn’t have him closer than ever before, his cock pulsing and leaking into the condom, the latex probably the only thing keeping him from cumming right now. If he could feel you bare, it would be over for him, and as much as he wants to experience you without the barrier, he’s thankful for it. 
His fingers settle back onto your clit and start to rub circles around it, his mouth catching the gasp you let out when his hips scoop on the next thrust in and drag the head of his cock against your g-spot. 
He can’t hit it with every stroke, not when he wants to get as deep as possible, but combined with the work of his fingers, he can feel you getting closer each and every time he does graze the erogenous patch. 
You stop kissing him to tilt your head back and let out a long, high-pitched whine, and he knows it’s almost time. He doesn’t change a thing, not when your nails dig into his shoulders, not when your hips buck into his, not even when your pussy starts to swallow around his cock. He just keeps his steady pace, continues to roll your clit beneath his fingers, and hopes, prays, wishes that pleasure will find you before it washes over him. 
“Please, please, please baby, please fucking cum for me,” he begs, every muscle in his body tensing as he fights to hold off his own orgasm. It’s not in vain, thank fucking goodness, because you whimper brokenly as your pussy starts to undulate around him, growing tighter and tighter until he can’t move, can barely even breathe. 
You’re cumming, fuck, you’re cumming, and so is he, the pulsating of your walls around him making him surge deep inside and stay there as he fills the condom with his cum, his cock jerking and jumping within you. It’s better than it ever has been, every thought in his head wiped out by pure fucking ecstasy and every muscle in his body tensing then relaxing as he succumbs to the urge to just melt into you and let two become one. 
Minutes, or maybe hours, pass before he can pull himself away from you, but eventually you release your hold on him, your arms falling to rest beside your head and your legs gingerly returning to the mattress. He doesn’t know if he’s ready to not be inside of you, but the condom is starting to feel uncomfortable now that he’s softening, especially as full of cum as it is, so he holds the base of it as he withdraws himself from you. 
You pout the whole time and he does too, but you say nothing as he gets off the bed to slip the condom off, tying the end in a knot before dropping it in the bin next to his desk. 
Seungcheol doesn’t know why but he’s nervous to turn back around, to face you again. When he does, though, you just smile up at him sleepily and open your arms, waiting for him to find his place. 
He grins softly and slides back into bed, laying on his back and gathering you up against his chest, humming contentedly when you snuggle into him, your leg tossed over his thigh and your arm wrapped around his waist. 
“We should wash up, but I don’t want to move…” he murmurs, lifting his head just enough to press a kiss to your crown before letting it drop back down, his eyes fluttering closed. 
“I have bad news,” you say quietly. His heart starts to race and his eyes fly open, his arms tightening around you like that’ll protect him from what you’re about to say. 
“What is it?” He asks, hesitation clear in his voice. 
“We forgot my stuff in your car,” you whisper nervously, as if that’s something he would actually get upset with you over. 
He can’t stop the laugh that bubbles out of him, tinged in both love and relief, though he does muffle it in your hair. 
“That’s not so bad, baby. I’ll go get your water and bag, and you start the shower, okay?” he proposes, already planning to jog so he can make it back in time to rinse off with you. 
“Okay,” you sigh happily, sitting up and rolling out of bed before prancing over to the ensuite, fully fucking naked. 
Yeah, no way in hell is he staying on that goddamn couch tonight. 
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AN: what a fucking journey this was!! I’m so happy i kept yall updated through it because it was so nice to have you cheering me on and to know you were excited for it to come out 🥺 did i expect it to be three times as long as part one? no! are their feelings a bit dramatic? yes! is this fanfiction? yes, so i can make it as dramatic as i want! people get married after one month, they’re allowed to be in love after four! ps you don’t know how hard it was to keep more breeding kink from slipping into this like it’s borderline impossible for me to write seungcheol without breeding kink but i did my best and i did it for you
all i have left to say is this: you deserve someone who will love you like seungcheol loves reader! you deserve someone who will listen to you and respect you and do everything in their power to make you feel good! that’s what i, user sluttywoozi, wants for you! remember that the next time you think about settling for less than what you deserve!
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Taglist: @so-da-1 @plskillme22 @nightshadeblooming @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @gyuguys @jennwonwoo @lelestarmy @disneyprincessshuri @alexbarberry @scoupsjin @sourkimchi @bangrauhl13 @meowmeowminnie @jungkooknippleanddicksucker @lukeys-giggle @polyglot-ton267 @bubbletroubble @bouclesdefeu @sunshinekyeom-sang @ujimatchaaa
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inkdrinkerworld · 2 days
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Cw: brief mention of past childhood abuse/trauma, talk of not being good parents. This is representation for the girlies (gn) that are unsure about being parents/know they don’t want kids! You’re perfect and valid
Sirius Black x fem!reader (one use of girl at the end there)
“I don’t think I’d want to have kids.” You say to Sirius as you lay beside him, your head on his shoulder as he tickles your back.
It’s an abrupt confession seeing as neither of you had been talking about that, but Sirius just hums.
“Any reason why, poppet?” His voice is even. To be truthful, Sirius goes back and forth with the idea too.
You take a while to elaborate; “I think having to help raise my siblings, and then dealing with all of that stress and having to correct my brother’s actions and all of that,” you take a breath. “I think it took it out of me. I also really don’t want to screw up a kid.”
Sirius nods, a kiss to your cheek. He feels you inhale against his hand and waits for you to speak again, “Would that make our relationship harder? Would it be a deal breaker?”
He pulls back to get a good look at you. “Because you don’t want babies?” When you nod, Sirius shakes his head. “No, doll. I don’t think I want kids either, but especially so if you don’t want them.”
“Don’t say that just to agree with me, Siri.” You sigh and Sirius copies you.
“I’m not. I go back and forth with it just as you do. Most days I’m leaning towards it just being me and you.” His voice is too raw and earnest for you to doubt him.
You breathe out long, “I just,” you pause, picking your words. “We’ve both had shitty childhoods, I don’t know if we’d be good parents. No one can be perfect and I don’t want to fuck up a kid that didn’t have the choice of being here; I know that much for certain.”
“I think that’s a good thing to know, babe. We aren’t what happened to us and while we’re better now, we can’t predict how we’ll be despite our best efforts with our own kids, you’re right. I wouldn’t want to fuck them up either.”
They fall when you say, “Does that make me a bad person? That I wouldn’t risk it because raising my siblings was like me having kids already and really don’t want to fuck them up like we were?”
He doesn’t like that this has been troubling you. Sirius knows you better than anyone else on planet earth and he knows for you to cry like this means you’ve thought about this a lot.
He hates that you’ve been tormenting yourself over not wanting kids for so long.
Sirius pulls you closer when your tears turn to sobs, his arms firm weight around your back as he kisses your eyes. Salty tears pass through the seam of his lips.
“That doesn’t make you a bad person, poppet. That makes you a good person actually. We can keep our family just like this. Me, you, the birds you feed in the yard and maybe a dog later down the road.”
“And a cat,” you say all sniffly and Sirius wrinkles his nose.
“If you really want a cat, I’ll get you a cat. Just no more thinking it’s wrong to not want kids.” You nod, content to let Sirius pet you as your cries slow.
“You’ll still love me the most right?” He laughs, tilting your chin up and kissing your lips.
“I love you best, silly girl. Always will, even if we had kids.” You slap his chest and Sirius shrugs. “Maybe that’s how I know I’m not cut out, I don’t think I could put someone over you.” He laughs suddenly. “Fuck that’s sounds horrid.”
You wiggle onto his chest, kissing the constellation he got for you. “Doesn’t sound horrid. Dunno if I could handle not being top of your love list.” You say teasingly and Sirius smiles, all pleased that even with your red nose and slightly puffy eyes you’re okay.
Pride blooms in his chest as it does every time he assuages your worries. “Well, you never have to worry, poppet. Now gimme a kiss and let’s finish this episode of Bake Off.”
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gay-dorito-dust · 3 days
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you’ve got a great writing style! I was wondering if you could write Ford x Reader where reader finds him mid flashback/panic attack because of his history with Bill, and has to comfort him, but having no clue about his past so just really struggling 😭
sorry if this is too specific or niche so no pressure!
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You had been looking for Ford for what felt like forever now, even going as far as to ask the twins whether or not they have seen their Grunkle, only for the two to share a look of concern before telling you that they saw him bolt off into his room with a look of pure panic upon his face.
‘He looked like he remembered something that he didn’t want to remember.’ Dipper said and you thanked him before heading towards Ford’s room, where you noticed the door was open and the man you were looking for all day was huddled in the corner of his room with a haunted, yet terrified, look upon his face as his breathing came out raged.
‘Ford?’ You whispered.
No response.
‘Ford.’ You spoke louder this time, beginning to become worried as you stepped into his room, closing the door softly behind you, all the while keeping your eyes on the man who looked as though he had saw a ghost of his past.
Taking a deep breath you cautiously walked towards Ford, all the while also keeping a good deal of distance between you both for his benefit as you knelt on the floor across from him. It wasn’t until you were close to Ford to notice the tears glistening within his eyes, or how his lower lip was being bitten to absolute death to the point of bleeding, or the way his fingers gripped and clawed his own arms. It hurt you to see Ford like this as it pained your heart to not know what he was going through, especially when all you wanted to do was help him however you could.
‘Ford you’re hurting yourself.’ You said lowly as you gently took both of his hands in yours, allowing him to squeeze them as tightly as he wanted, ignoring your own pain at his grip as you rubbed your thumbs against the back of them soothingly. ‘No one is going to hurt you Ford, I don’t know what’s got you like this but you’re safe, you’re safe with me.’ You promised as you felt Ford squeeze your hands in what felt like morse code; something you and Ford had both used when neither of you felt comfortable speaking upon your feelings in public spaces, so you both agreed to resort to morse code instead.
‘You’re safe.’ You repeat as you squeezed his hands back. ‘Stan is safe, Dipper, Mabel, Soos, Fiddelford, Wendy and myself are here if you ever need us Ford, please I just want to know if you’re okay.’ You pleaded as you felt hopeless in trying to comfort Ford and you hated it as all you wanted to do was make him happy, safe and loved, but how could you do that when he was seemingly frozen in fear of something you weren’t privy to.
Ford blinked his teary eyes as they finally acknowledged you and you swore you could hear him take a deep sigh of relief, seemingly having came out of his own head, before pulling you in his arms where he held you tight as he buried his head into your shoulder.
‘You’re okay.’ He whispered. ‘You’re all okay, he didn’t win, he didn’t get to any of you.’
You didn’t know who this ‘he’ was but it was obvious that Ford feared him more than anything, and while the mystery about this character that seemingly haunted Ford unnerved you, you could only hope that your hug would reassure him that you were real and not imaginary.
‘I’m here Ford, I’m right here.’ You reassured him. ‘Nothing is going to take me away from you, nothing.’
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bimoonphases · 2 days
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@wolfstarmicrofic September 26 - prompt 26: Harry [word count 630]
“What’s wrong, Bambi?” Sirius asked across the breakfast table. “You haven’t said more than five words since you came back yesterday.”
“Are you alright, darling?” Remus added, pouring Harry a steaming cup of tea. “You haven’t even touched your mince pie.”
“And that’s rude, Moony has worked a whole day to get them just the way you like for your Christmas break,” Sirius nodded, shoving one in his mouth.
Remus sat down, looking at the fifteen-year old who was staring at his plate. Harry always came back from Hogwarts for Christmas and summer break with so many stories to tell, about his friends, about Quidditch, which Sirius listened to with wide eyes as if he hadn’t been there cheering him on at every match, about his teachers, which made it very hard for both Sirius and Remus not to bash Snape out loud every time their son told them about his awful behaviour. But this time Sirius was right, Harry had come back the previous day all closed-down and still hadn’t said anything. Remus took a mince pie from the plate. Whatever it was, Harry would tell them sooner or later, and if he didn’t they would have to gently coax it out of him and see why he hadn’t felt comfortable with sharing what had been weighing on his mind.
“I have to tell you something,” Harry blurted out suddenly.
Remus nodded, and Sirius put his coffee cup back on the table.
“We’re all ears, Bambi,” he said.
“I’m… I’m dating someone,” Harry was looking in his teacup.
“Oh Merlin, Moony,” Sirius clutched Remus’s hand while he wiped away invisible tears with the other. “They grow up so fast.”
“That’s wonderful, darling,” Remus smiled, patting his dramatic husband’s hand. “Boy, girl, someone who doesn’t use those old labels?”
“Boy,” Harry still wasn’t looking at them. “But there’s something else. He’s in Slytherin.”
“Harry, that really doesn’t matter,” Remus said, Sirius nodding by his side. “You almost got put in Slytherin yourself after all. And honestly if it weren’t for a thousand years of tradition the House division shouldn’t exist anymore.”
“Agreed, we’ve seen how they don’t reflect who you really are, we are well placed to know that,” Sirius added.
The framed photograph of Regulus in his Quidditch robes on the mantelpiece nodded vigorously along with the one of James and Lily baking cupcakes in their own kitchen, Lily heavily pregnant with Harry.
“It’s not the Slytherin part, it’s he’s… He’s…” Harry took a deep breath. “He’s Draco Malfoy.”
Sirius’s eyes went comically wide and his mouth hung open before he let his head fall heavily on the table. Harry finally looked up, staring confusedly at his godfather.
“Narcissa Black’s son, right?” Remus said, trying his best not to laugh.
“Yes…” Harry was still looking at Sirius.
“Why, Moony, why?” Sirius groaned from the table. “What have I done to deserve this?”
“Pads, stop it, you’re upsetting Bambi,” Remus nudged him. “Are you happy with him, Harry?”
“Yes,” Harry looked at him, his cheeks turning slightly red. “But is it alright? With his family being who they are I mean…”
“Once again, we’re well placed to know people aren’t their family, right my love?” Remus elbowed Sirius this time and he finally sat up again.
“Of course we are, it’s not that, Bambi. I’m happy you’re happy with whoever you’re dating, remember that?”
“Then what’s wrong?” Harry looked at him, confused.
“Well, you’re exactly like your father in this too,” Sirius smiled.
As Harry stared at them even more confused, Remus and Sirius looked up at the mantelpiece, where Regulus’s photograph was very blatantly blushing while James’s photograph was winking exaggeratedly to him from his own frame, Lily laughing so much she had had to lean on the counter.
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rising-starrr · 9 hours
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hey..👹
street racer!Choso x nerdy!reader
NASTY FRAKY SLOPY MESSY DIRTY SHLOPY JUICY WET CARS SEX🤭 like so basically R is a fan of him and snuck out (she has strict parents and shes a good girl) to the street race and found herself talking to choso after the race (he won of course) and he was falling for her in many ways but he really wanted to fuck and so he took her to his car and sent homegirl to POUNDTOWN AND KEPT POUNDING. because she got that good pussy🤭 yk and he cant get enough overstimulating himself and her but she doesn’t mind. she just has to try and make it home before her parents wake up. good thing its the weekend huh🤭🤭
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Send that pussy to poundtown ! - Street Racer!Choso Kamo
warnings: street racer Choso, nerdy Reader, slightly rough sex, Choso having a lot of stamina, car sex, choking, hair pulling, Reader having strict parents, overstimulation, backshots, size kink(bro’s dick is like 11-12 inches).
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He can’t get enough of that cunt!/🌽link
Choso Kamo
As usual you were at home studying your ass off for your next quiz. Your parents were strict, so they barely allowed you to go anywhere, even if you didn't have any up-coming quizzes or tests.
You never understood why they were so strict anyways, you passed all your tests, exams, and quizzes, straight A's, top of the class, and they still don't let you get a break.
Crazy thing is you don't even live with them, they just keep in contact with your principal. But you're staying with them for spring break.
“You better be studying!” Your mother snapped as she slammed open your door, standing there with your father right behind her.
You look up from your book and nod . “Yes mother, I am.” You say as you look back down at your book.
Your mother didn’t know if you were lying or not, she was just really stupid to believe her own child.
“Good. You need to be prepared for the test after spring break.” She says, as she looks around your room. “What is with all these goddamn posters of this person ?”
That 'person' was Choso Kamo, a really famous street racer that you have a huge crush on. You didn't know when you developed a crush on him, you saw him on TV and fell in love.
You sigh as you look back down at your book, your mother was always yelling at you for the dumbest reasons possible. Meanwhile your father just stood there and allowed her to yell at you.
She huffed as she turned away from you and slammed your door. One day, that door was going to break off, and you weren't about to take the blame for it.
You stand up and open your door, putting your 'i'm studying, do not disturb' sign on your door and closing it, then locking it.
Sighing as you take out your phone, and check the time. It was 7pm, it was almost time for you to get ready for the street race.
MY BAE(BESTIE<3)
- girl ! where are you ? I'm parked around the corner
read at 7:02pm
you look around as you climb out your window and run towards your best friend’s car. You sighed as you got in and she began to drive off to the race.
When you had finally got there, the race was about to start, and you caught glance of Choso Kamo, he was getting in his car, and starting his engine up.
As soon as the flag went down for the racers to start, Choso started off with incredible speed, and safe to say he won!!
Being the shy person you are, your best friend had to drag you up to Choso, just so you would ask him for an autograph, and hug while you're at it!
You look back at your best friend as she nods, looking over to Choso. “Can.. I get your autograph please?”
You questioned, holding out the journal and pen out to him in case he says yes. He hums as he takes the book and signs it.
‘Choso K.♡’ is what your journal read. He put a cute little heart! You smile as you look back at him.
“Hm, I’ve seen you around, you wanna take a ride in my car sweets ?” Choso questioned as he took your hand in his.
You stutter over your words before shutting up and just nodding. He smirks as he leads you to his car and opens the passenger door for you.
You smile as you get inside the car, and puts the seatbelt on. He hums as he gets in on the other side and starts up the engine.
He began to drive through the neighborhood, his thumb tracing small circles on your inner thigh. He looks at you, asking if he has consent to go further.
Your crush — Choso Kamo, wanted to touch you ? Why pass up such an offer! You nod as he moves his hand up further, stopping in a random parking lot.
“Get in the back seat for me sweets.” He says, as you begin to unbuckle your seatbelt and crawl in the back, him following after you.
He asks for permission to push your skirt up, and makes sure your comfortable, he may be a very messy, and anger-issued person in the streets, but in the sheets, he's sweet and aggressive.
You nod as he pushes up your skirt and moves your panties to the side as you hum. He puts his face between your legs, taking in your scent to his nose.
All he smelled was a sweet cunt that was about to get ravished. To him, you smelled like candy, and sweets all that he loved.
He grips your hips, pulling you closer to his face. His face buried in your cunt, as he sticks his tongue to taste you.
“Shit, you taste so fucking good, sweets..” he murmurs as he comes back up and keeps one hand on your hip, the other unbuckling his belt.
He pushes down his boxers and began lazily stroking his cock. you look back, seeing how big his dick was, that shit wasn’t going to fit in you!
He positions his cock at your entrance, humming as he pushes down on your back, making you arch more.
Your face was pressed against his backseat, as he pushed himself inside of you. “Fuck — you feel so good” he murmurs as his grip on your hips tighten.
He began pounding away at that cunt of yours, making himself pussy drunk. He was pounding away as he gripped your hips harder.
His hair clinging to his forehead as he threw his head back. He just kept pounding, not letting either of you cum, he wanted to savor this moment.
Fucking the cute girl of his dreams? Complete! He just finished his bucket list, but he knows he’ll have to make another just to fuck you again.
“Cho—so! Cu—mming!” You managed to scream out, something that wasn’t just his name, or stupid moans about how good his dick was.
His grip on your hips tightened up, as he pressed his chest against your back, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. “cum for me then.”
He murmured as you listened and finally came on his dick. He soon followed after you as you came. “Good girl”
He pulled back and took the condom off.(don’t ask me when he put it on..) He threw it in the trash can he had in his car and pulled you up.
“I should drive you home pretty. You plan to come to my next race right ?” He questioned as he got back in the front seat after cleaning you up and throwing the rag away.
You nod simply as you lay in his backseat, he hums as he looks through his mirror and drives you back home.
You thank him for the drive and walk off, to climb back into your window, it was 2 in the morning currently and your parents were still asleep.
Or should have been. They weren’t, they were having the night of their lives like you just did!
You yawn as you change and fall right onto your bed, a piece of paper flying out of your pocket. It was his number!
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I LOVED THIS REQUEST SO MUCH WHAT AND I’M SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO DO IT
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rabioa · 2 days
Text
First Cut
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Alastor x Nurse!Reader - Fluff - Gender Neutral
Alastor has never cared much for the residents of the hotel, but with you, he couldn't help but grow curious. You were so attentive to everyone's health so would you care about him as much? He knows you're scared of him just like everyone else, but maybe your generosity outweighs your logic? Oh, that would be so delightful. You had a bleeding heart so aren't you a helpful little doll! You ought to be rewarded for your boldness, truly
TW: Alastor gets a cut on purpose for your attention, any Hazbin Hotel warnings
My first short fanfic about Alastor!! I love him so much omg :3 i intend to make a part 2 where Alastor returns the favor. I hope you enjoy this and as always, any feedback would be super appreciated!!! Remember to hydrate and remember that you are loved!!!! <333
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Imagine you were a nurse while you were alive, and for whatever reason you ended up in Hell. Despite your sins, you still wanted to help others. It's that desire to heal others that led you to the Hazbin Hotel. You had been staying there for a few weeks now, getting used to the new dynamics of everything.
Alastor definitely took notice of you; you weren't quite an employee, yet you somehow became the resident nurse. You fretted over everyone: constantly providing hangover cures for Husk, painkillers for Angel Dust after a filming session, band aids for Niffty, and other medical attention as needed for everyone.
Although you were initially shy around Lucifer, you eventually got comfortable enough to take care of him too. You ensured he got food in his system and some fresh air, even after he locked himself in his room all day.
Much to Alastor's amusement, you wormed yourself into everybody's heart besides his. He noticed how formal and stiff you were around him, growing meek in his presence. You were intimidated by him. It didn't stop you from being polite and sweet though, you just tried your best to slip out of the room whenever he appeared. He was trouble, and you knew that.
Imagine one day though, you're both in the kitchen. He was cooking something for the hotel, a luxury he blessed the hotel with often. You were restocking some ice packs (because a certain spider demon wouldn't return them to their place after each use!). You kept your distance, quiet as a mouse as you placed the melted packs into the freezer. 
Alastor observed you, the way you nervously worked. Your hands would fumble in their rush to be done. He had to give you credit though, you looked composed compared to most other demons.
He continued to chop some vegetables. He was skilled with a knife, moving with lethal efficiency. It was something you noted with apprehension. Still, you focused on your task, not wanting to interact with the terrifying Radio Demon.
Unfortunately for you, he found you amusing. You were bold enough to demand the king of Hell himself eat three square meals a day, yet you were a shivering mouse under his gaze. He briefly wondered though, despite your fear, does your kindness extend to him? 
He decided on an experiment. He was no coward to pain; he had been cut by a blade many times in his life. To become both a skilled chef and killer took trial and error with knives. That was why when he sliced his hand, he didn't even flinch. It was a meager gash on the back of his hand. He let the knife clatter against the counter loud enough to draw your attention. 
“Hmmm,” he let out a disapproving hum at the injury, not so subtly forcing you to see his wound. A performance of sorts. 
“You're injured!” you noted with surprise. Your first reflex was to step closer to him, the ice packs now forgotten. Then you looked at his face staring intently at yours. Oh, this was Alastor. Did you really want to risk angering him by fretting over him? But then again, he was hurt, and you were never one to turn a blind eye to someone in pain. 
Alastor's grin widened when he watched your eyes bouncing back and forth between his hand and his face. He could almost hear the gears in your head turning, trying to figure out if your fear would overcome your morals. He knew human nature well; you might put on a brave front, but just like all the others, you're a meek little ant in the face of his power. 
“It appears so, dear. Would you care to do something about it?” He prompted you, glee in his voice. 
The joy in his voice was undoubtedly a red flag in your book, but you gave in. You let out a huff, a sound you often made when dealing with troublesome patients, before finding the kitchen medical kit. You moved with familiarity, placing the kit on the counter and gently guiding his hand towards you.
Although he expected the kit, he didn't expect you to gently grab his hand and bring it towards you. On instinct, his hand twitched closed around yours for a moment, his claws warning you of how easily he could tear you apart. Your breath had hitched, but your plan remained.
“We need to disinfect the wound first. That knife could've been contaminated,” you muttered. It was mainly to fill up the silence lingering in the air like an insistent plague. His hand relaxed, appeased by your explanation. 
You grabbed an alcoholic wipe and carefully cleaned the wound, the wipe turning red. Your face was still, focused. 
Alastor watched in small surprise, not expecting you to be so attentive towards him. He was so used to other demons being too scared to think straight, yet here you were, touching him so casually. Your touch didn't even feel too incredibly invasive. Instead, it felt professional, but not cold.
You were glad the sting didn't make him react too much, disinfecting the wound going well. You then pulled out a strip of bandage. “The cut isn't too big, so it just needs to be covered as it heals, but I know you wear gloves, so it needs to be extra secured so the glove doesn't mess with it,” you explained. You carefully wrapped it up, and finally finished with your work. You looked up at him, gauging his reaction. 
He tested the treatment, clenching his hand a few times. That seemed to satisfy him. He looked at you and you couldn't help but fidget, averting your eyes. He was still unnerving as fuck, but at least he didn't try to eat you alive?
You began to put your supplies away, but his voice demanded your attention once more. You shifted your gaze over to him when he began to speak.
“Well, aren't you a helpful little doll! You ought to be rewarded for your boldness, truly,” he mused. He picked up the knife with his good hand. You stumbled back a little, bumping into the counter. He twirled the knife as you watched with wide eyes, oh God, maybe he was going to kill you now? Or torture you? You really were bold, oh God. 
He twirled the knife in his hands, the metal glinting menacingly at you. Then he angled it away from the both of you as if holding up a finger. “I'll make you some Gumbo!” He grinned merrily at you. Your paled expression during his teasing had him absolutely delighted. He couldn't help but poke some fun at you, scaring you to your wit's end. 
“O-Oh, thank you… sir,” you let out the breath you were holding, relief flooding your system. 
“Now why don't you go rest up and I'll call you when supper is ready?” He ordered you, waving you off with his bandaged hand.
“Ah, sure, after I finish my-” you trailed off as you looked towards the freezer. Black inky tentacles glowing green were doing your job, placing the ice packs in neatly. “Thank you,” you muttered in surprise. That was one job finished.
“You are quite the diligent little mouse! You should take a break and take care of yourself,” he hummed, leaning against the counter as he watched you. 
Shivers went up your spine, the hairs on your neck prickling. You sighed, forcing the tension in your body to disperse. “Thanks. I suppose I do need to take a break,” you agreed. You didn't have the best sleep schedule, and you could go for a nap after staying up a bit late tending to Husk and then getting the scare of your death. You shuffled out of the kitchen.
Now that Alastor was alone, he began to reflect. You weren't boring, that was for sure. He would definitely have to tease you more. You looked so adorable when focused, why he could just eat you up! He looked back down at his hand, looking at the carefully bound bandages. You remembered he wore gloves. You even took it into consideration. How awfully kind of you. Well, he took it upon himself to reward your kindness with relentless teasing from him.
After all, you were like a shiny new toy for him to bat around. He would see how long it would take to get you around his finger. He clenched his fist, ignoring the pain erupting from the cut. He readied his knife and grabbed his half-cut vegetable to continue his work.
He was getting ahead of himself, getting so excited over his future plans. First, he needed to make some Gumbo.
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talekinesis · 1 day
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Random Gravity Falls Headcanons
Stan
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This guy smokes to help deal with the stress of everything. He picked up the habit after he was kicked out by his father and hasn't quit since. He used to be a chainsmoker but after getting to look after the kids for the summer, he drastically cut back and is actually thinking of quitting altogether because he wants to be around long enough to watch Mabel and Dipper grow up
Actually a pretty decent cook, it's just baking he sucks at. With cooking you can sort of eyeball the ingredients and add more or less depending on your own personal taste, but with how strict baking is with its ingredients, he never really picked it up. He's only baked a cake twice in his life, once for his mom when he was a kid, with the help of Ford, and once for the kids' birthday (it was lopsided and runny and they decided to just go out for pancakes instead)
He can play the guitar really well. He had to teach himself how to play when he was young and homeless, playing for tips. He still has his original guitar and occasionally, on a good day, will get it out and play it. He played it once for Mabel, who, for once in her life, actually sat still and listened
Part of his daily routine is kicking gnomes out of the trash because they keep trying to eat leftovers. He just bats them off with a broom like they're raccoons
He grew up a huge mama's boy since she was the only supportive parent he had. After he got kicked out of the house, he called her from a pay phone a couple times to ask to come back home and to wish her a happy birthday. To this day he still makes it a point to get a cupcake on her birthday since he can't celebrate it with her, and sometimes he'll tell the kids stories about her, like how she would have loved Mabel since Mabel has all these different unique sweaters, and his ma used to collect different, big, unique earrings
Stan coaches Mabel in boxing, and actually helped her discover a passion for it, he attends all of her matches. He even taught her a couple illegal moves that she can't use in the ring but can use in real self defense
Even in his early 60s, he still thinks it's funny to bother Ford as if they were still kids. He'll randomly snatch his glasses off his face (forgetting that he also wears glasses and Ford can retaliate), he'll just start copying Ford and repeat what he says, he once even dressed up as Ford, but it didn't last very long because Ford wears a much smaller size of pants, and Stan has a bit of a gut on him. He changed after about five or ten minutes.
He's a die-hard fan of Chappell Roan
He's actually the more responsible of the Stan-Twins. He breaks laws sure, but he always makes sure everyone is fed and safe. He's like this close 🤏 to putting Ford and Mabel on leashes when they go out because they have a tendency to run off
"I'd like to make an announcement to the store, I lost someone." "Oh, did your kid run off?" "My 60 year old brother, yeah. No he doesn't have a cellphone."
Has a biological kid out there somewhere but the mom cut him off. I just think the scene where he said, "Scary movies are great, the girl cuddles up next to ya... next thing you know you gotta raise a kid.. And your life falls apart.." sounded too much like he was speaking from experience and not as a hypothetical. He wants so badly to be a dad though and regrets not keeping contact. (let me know if I should make an oc for this :] )
Ford
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He can't eat doritos or any triangle shaped chip because one time Bill hid inside a chip bag just to startle him
It took him a while to adjust to this dimension's laws of physics. He was frustrated for a while that he couldn't just leave his coffee floating in the air. He broke three mugs and one of them was Stan's.
Despises pickles as if he held a personal grudge against them. He hates them an irrational amount, and even gets irritated with Stan for just having them in the house. He acts like a child about it too, arms crossed and everything. "Here, Poindexter, you want me to take the pickles off your sandwich? Like a child?" "Don't bother, the meal's ruined >:( "
He gets sucked into those soap operas that Stan watches, and will sometimes watch from the doorway or over his shoulder. He won't admit it, but Stan knows.
He lights his face on fire because he saw someone else do it in a different dimension where that was normal
Unlike Stan, he's actually amazing at baking (he likes to follow precise measurements and instructions) But sucks at cooking. Caught a pot of water on fire.
When he first discovered the shape shifter, he kept it as a pet because he found it cute, but ended up letting it go when he found out it had a human-like sentience and could speak. But for a while he raised it the same way Mabel raises Waddles, putting it in little shirts, hats, and just absolutely adoring it
Used to play 'Dungeons, Dungeons, and more Dungeons' with a group in college as the DM, and it was the first time he actually had a friend group. The other players loved the way he set things up
Doesn't like alchohol. At least from this dimension, he got used to alternate dimension alchohols that tasted way better, so when he came back to Earth everything tasted way too strong and almost like dirt to him so he just quit
Used to know a little banjo since Fiddleford taught him but forgot it while in other dimensions
Used to babysit Tate on occasion and sucked at it
He also used to babysit Shermie and *also* sucked at it. He'd have to pass him off to Stan if he got fussy or started crying since only Stan and their mom could calm him down
• Used to play David Bowie in his lab and would occasionally lip sync or dance to it. Even when traveling dimensions, he'd introduce David Bowie music to the people, creatures, and beings he met, until he lost the cassette tape and was devastated
Mabel
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Allergic to chocolate and makes up for it by eating way too much of other candies. She still tries to eat it though because "Maybe I'm not allergic anymore," but Dipper has to stop her. Stan even makes it a point not to keep chocolate in the Shack when they visit because he knows Mabel is a heathen with little self preservation. It's not epi-pen bad, but it will burn and itch her throat and get her coughing (Ford will use chocolate substitutes when baking for her and Dipper)
She likes to tell people that she and Dipper were originally two of three, and that she ate their triplet in the womb to become stronger. This is not true.
She wants to be a big sister really bad and sometimes that comes out onto Dipper despite him only being 5 minutes younger, much to his dismay and protest
She found a passion for boxing after Stan taught her how, and even asked her parents to let her start doing it as a sport, which she got really into. Coincidentally, after she picked up boxing, Gideon suddenly left her alone completely. Future Headcanon: She grows up to box professionally and one day even faces Grenda in the ring, but there's obviously a mutual respect between them. They agreed ahead of time that if they ever had to face each other, neither of them would hold back and it would be a fair match. Even after there's a winner, they meet up afterward and go out for dinner with Candy, who posts their matches to social media. Waddles is her mascot.
Mabel makes even more friends when she returns home from Gravity Falls because she takes Waddles for walks on a leash and it's a pretty good conversation starter
She is convinced that if she eats all the ingredients for a cake, she'll have successfully made a cake in her stomach. Once again, Dipper has to physically stop her from doing this. Ford does too, the first time he heard her say this (through a mouthful of flour) he went, "That certainly is an interesting theory, Mabel, but no-"
Dipper
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Let's get it out of the way, I really like the 'Trans Dipper' headcanon. It just fits really well and I, as a trans person, can relate to him a lot
I think he knows how to dance a little because his mom taught him and used to take him to 'Mother-Son' events
He secretly keeps a tally of how many times Mabel rolls herself out of bed because it always wakes him up but he also kind of thinks it's funny because she just sleeps through it. Even if they don't share rooms back at home, he can always here the distance "thunk" of his sister hitting the floor. The tally isn't a sheet of paper, it's a small notebook with multiple pages filled in
He sometimes gets the courage to try and roughhouse with Stan, who is always on board but purposely takes it easy on the kid because he's like "baby bird" fragile
Dipper was the one to break the news to his Grandpa Shermie that Stanley was still alive and Stanford was actually missing for 30 years with Stan taking his place, almost giving the poor man a heart attack. (Shermie ended up booking a flight to Gravity Falls to yell at his brothers in person because that's not a conversation you can have over the phone)
Dipper was the one to introduce Stan to Chappell Roan by accident, but now they listen to her if they're in the car together
his DD&MD character is a female orc fighter named Yotula and he got very excited to info-dump about her to Ford (who was equally as excited to listen)
Has an odd addiction to chocolate milk. He makes a glass of chocolate milk at least once a day. Twice if it's been a rough day. He actually gets a little upset if he misses his daily cup of chocolate milk, its just routine. Stan one time made an offhand joke that since Mabel's allergic, Dipper has to consume twice as much for the both of them, but Mabel took that seriously and now to her its just the truth.
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ljaylmaoo · 3 days
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Brat Contest
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dom!hook x bratty!fem!reader 18+
UNEDITED
request: Hello! can you do a dom!hook x reader smut please! With the reader and hook acting bratty to each other and giving each other attitude all day and finally hook has enough of it and fucks her please! I haven’t been able to find much descendants hook smut and I was so excited when I saw you were taking requests for it! 🥰
request 2: Hello again! I’m the one who requested the bratty hook x reader smut can you make it a bit rough? Thank you!
summary: you and hook have been acting up to each other all afternoon and hook eventually gets tired of it
genre: SMUT!!
warnings: this is EXTREMELY smutty lol, rough UNPROTECTED sex (please use condoms lol), cream pie, degrading, denied orgasm, aftercare, bratty reader (hook too at the start), reader just can’t keep her mouth shut LMAO, think that’s it
HOOK AND READER ARE 18!
a/n: yea this is filthy LMAO, this is for all you hook whores (light hearted of course). thank you for the request! you asked for rough so I gave you ROUGH. just know that this will contain smut so if that makes you uncomfortable then I strongly suggest you don’t read. sorry if there’s any errors/typos!
word count: 3.2k
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
All afternoon you and Hook have been giving each other attitude.
You don't know when or how it specifically started but you knew it began sometime during lunch and since then, you two would seemingly be (unintentionally) taking turns talking back to each other or giving some sort of snarky remark. You both were getting fed up with it, yet neither of you could help it. You had the same amount of attitude and stubbornness so of course none of you backed down, always getting the last word in whenever one of you was getting scolded from the other to stop or simply giving a glare in the others direction and it seemed that every shot you took at each other would only provoke you more and pushed you both to keep going. It was quite childish and stupid really. Your friends had even pointed it out in class and asked why you were being so "bratty" to each other, with your responses only being "it's her/his fault." Maleficent would laugh and say that Hook "finally met his match" and the rest of the VK's joking about how they just know this "fight" would end up physical. You would be lying to yourself if you said that there wasn't any type of sexual tension behind it or that it wasn't turning you on. Your bickering would have implication with some type of dirty comment along with it.
Though you were both completely fed up with each other's attitudes, you still couldn't stay apart. So as of now, you were in your last class of the day sat at the back of the class, working on your paired assignment in silence with your leg draped over his and his hook rested around your thigh.
"Hey, Y/n?"
You perked your head up as you heard your classmate that was sat in the desk in front of you call out your name, "yeah?" The sound of your "overly" sweet and gentle voice gaining the attention of your boyfriend who was sitting next to you just as you suspected it would. You knew how possessive he was and how jealous he got when you would give any other guy attention, and with your tone of voice, you made sure that he could tell you knew that he knew that what you were doing was on purpose. Just to irk him a little more. "could you maybe help us out with this question please? We tried asking the teacher but it still didn't help like at all" he explained, while gesturing to their papers. It wasn't completely out of the ordinary for someone to ask you for help as you were quite smart, especially in this class, "Oh, yeah of course!" You happily replied, taking Hooks hand off your thigh and got up, leaving Hook behind with a scowl as he watched you walk up to their desk and explained it to them. He was convinced that whenever you smiled at them or laughed with them was in a flirtatious manner and were "purposely" doing it to get him angry, and it was definitely working. He watched intently as you smiled politely at the two boys as they thanked you for your help, "no problem!" you replied back causing him to roll his eyes.
You strutted back to your seat and caught the pout in his face as you sat back down, you scoffed, "they needed help." He glanced at you with his arms crossed, you mirroring his actions, "I didn't say anything." - "you didn't have to." You snapped back at him while raising your voice a little. He was about to reply back, most likely another snarky comment when he was interrupted by the same guy who was in front of you, turning around to ask another question about the assignment. He saw the once annoyed expression on your face immediately switch up and into a fake yet convincingly warm smile as the two of you had a simple conversation which in his eyes, seemed like another attempt to try and flirt with you. He instantly threw his arm around you and rested the other on your thigh under the desk pulling you close, not taking his eyes off the guy, giving him a threatening look. He rubbed soft circles on your thigh, but with every giggle you let out while talking, he would squeeze your thigh just a little tighter which would cause you to falter your laugh. When your classmates finally turned back around to continue their own conversation and work, by then his hand had made its way higher up your leg, closer to your crotch and just under your skirt. You would squirm with every movement of his fingers causing him to smile as you did so, he knew exactly what he was doing. You tried your hardest to focus on the assignment as best you could, but his touch was heavenly. It didn't help that he knew exactly how to touch you to make you feel good without even trying.
The teacher quieted the class and began going over how the rest of the week would look like as it was nearing the end of the school day, just 5 minutes before the bell and Hook still continued his actions, "Can you like, mhm- chill out?" You hissed as quietly as possible, letting out a soft, closed mouthed moan in between your words after he moved even higher, just a few inches away from your heat, if that, that was starting to dampen your underwear. He kept his eyes to the front of the class where the teacher was going over something that you didn't care about, nor could you even focus on even if you tried, taking a few seconds before replying with a simple, "what am I doing?" he asked, a cute clueless look on his face as he turned and made eye contact with you. The movement of his thumb making you squirm and breath hitch once again, this time while making eye contact with him which made it all the more embarrassing for you. You gave him a silent glare and he glanced down to where his hand was under your skirt which made it ride up just enough for him to see the wet spot on your underwear causing him to smirk, "am I making you wet, darling?" He whispered with a cocky voice making you feel frustrated (both sexually and angrily from his cockiness) and flustered. You rolled your eyes and before you could stop yourself you mumbled under your breath while still being in a bratty mood, "who said it was you who turned me on.." your eyes shot wide open in shock as you realized what you'd said, his grip instantly tightened on your thigh, "oh, really..?" He said in a low, threatening tone causing you to let out a small squeak.
A few seconds later the bell rang and you quickly packed up your things, Hook immediately took your hand in his and dragged you out the door and into the hall, "fucking brat." He said through gritted teeth while pushing past people in the hall. You had mixed feelings, scared yet slightly excited for what he was going to do. He had already turned you on, and whenever he would get mad, it would turn you on even more and with every quick step you took with him getting closer and closer to your dorm, the wetter you got.
When you arrived, he swung the door open and yanked you inside, pushing you by your waist harshly up against the door causing it to shut with a loud slam! throwing your books to the side. He placed his leg in between yours, separating them as he stared down at you with pure fury behind his eyes, breathing deeply as you were staring up at him with innocent eyes filled with nervous anticipation. "You wanna repeat what you had just said to me there in class, darling?" His voice was deep and menacing as he spoke, the name sounding more taunting than anything. You shook your head, "I didn't mean it-" he instantly cut you off, "no, no. I want you to clearly tell me what you said. Now." He demanded, getting closer to your face. You were practically dripping now, your pussy throbbing with every word he spoke. You were so turned on at this point all you could do was shake your head with a whimper, slightly grinding on his thigh that rested between yours. The feeling of the fabric of your underwear and his leg on your clit making a breathy moan escape from your lips. He laughed and shook his head in disbelief, "dirty little slut." And with that he dropped his leg and pulled one of yours up to wrap around his waist as he dove down to your neck and began harshly kissing and biting all over causing you to gasp in pleasure, your hands finding their way to his hair as you pushed your body up against him. "I need- put you- in your- fucking place." He growled in between kisses along your collarbone, your only response was a quick nod, gasping as you rolled your hips against his, trying desperately to feel any type of sensation on your clit. He trailed kisses up your neck and roughly slammed his lips onto yours, his tongue instantly gaining access inside your mouth and his hand up your shirt, fondling your tits. He wrapped his hook around your waist to hold you up as you pressed your back up against the wall, using it to jump up, wrapping your other leg that was once on the ground around his waist.
As you continued to grind your hips you could feel him growing harder, adding more friction to your aching core. "Please-" you mumbled into his mouth, a moan escaping as you felt him twitch beneath you from your plead. "Please what, darling?" He teased, taking his hand out from under your bra and trailing down your body to your ass, gripping tightly as he kissed back down your neck causing you to gasp. You to let out a loud moan when he nipped at your sweet spot on your neck, "please- mm- more. I want more." You begged, his touch driving you mad. "Are you done being a brat?" He questioned, looking up at you. "But you're the one who-" you stopped yourself from saying anything more, the hand on your ass tightening its grip as he gave you a warning look, he gently pulled you down along the bulge in his pants and stopped just where your clit met the tip. You nodded, "yes, yes I'm done. I swear." You said in desperation, you clung onto him and attempted to grind your hips again but his firm hold stopped you, "I'm s-sorry, I didn't mean what I said. I-I just need to feel you. Please." You rambled, showering his neck in kisses as a pathetic attempt to convince him causing him to roll his eyes.
Without speaking he brought you over and threw you down on the bed. He glanced down to his pants noticing the wet spot you'd left and looked back up at you who only blushed. He began taking his jacket off, "be a good girl for once today and undress for me, love." You quickly obeyed and took off your shirt, throwing it somewhere off to the side and unclipped your bra discarding it in the same direction, watching in anticipation as he unbuttoned his shirt, gnawing on your bottom lip at the sight, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Of course you've seen him shirtless plenty of times, but the sight never fails to make you blush. He was gorgeous. He unbuckled his belt and came in between your legs, his face just above yours, "i'll fuck you but you can't cum until I say you can, okay?" He smiled while caressing your cheek with his hook making you shiver. You nodded, still nibbling on your lip. "Use your words." He brought his hook under your jaw, "okay" you whispered, "good girl." he praised before he placed his lips delicately on yours. You immediately pulled him closer, tangling your hands in his swept back hair.
He lifted your skirt up and rubbed circles around your clothed clit making you let out a high pitched moan, "so wet-" he complimented before sliding your underwear to the side and slowly entered two digits into your folds with ease. You tugged at his hair, pleasured sounds leaving your lips, the feeling of his fingers curling up and hitting your g spot, but as much as it felt good, it wasn't enough. You whined and reached for the waistband of his underwear that sat just above his pants that were already unzipped, he swiftly pulled away and pulled his fingers out of you to stop you from stroking him, "needy, aren't we?" You nodded and looked up at him with pleading eyes. He stared back down at you for a moment, a smile appearing on his face scoffing before giving in and began removing your underwear off your legs. The coldness of the room hitting your soaked and now bare pussy causing you to instinctively close your legs but he stopped you from doing so, pulling them back apart and pulled you closer to him. He lined himself up with you and slowly pushed into your walls earning a sharp moan from you, wrapping your legs around his waist. He was big, and every time it took you a bit to get used to his size, he held your hand beside your head to comfort you, "that's it darling.." he soothes as he eases into you. You squeeze his hand as he fills you up with his length, both gasping in pleasure as he lays his head on your shoulder, bottoming out. "Fuck.." He breathes out against your shoulder. He stills for a moment, letting you get used to his size before moving.
After a minute he lifted his head and looked at you, his hair framing his face you nodded, "okay" you whisper, biting your lip at the sight, he grabs your waist and slowly pulls out half way and sinks back in repeatedly, the pained winces and gasps soon turning to pleasured moans. "You're taking me so well.." he husks, picking up pace. Pornographic moans escape your mouth as he hits your cervix, throwing your head back against the soft sheets of your bed as his attention is focused on the way his cock is disappearing into your guts over and over. "-close" you cry out, he grabs your face and brings you up closer, forcing you to look at him, "not yet." He says sternly as he continues to plow himself into you before letting go. You grab for the sheets below you desperately, "brats don't get to cum that fast." He states, the knot in your stomach tightens and you grow frustrated after he says that, "like- I, mm, said- it's you who- started it!" You retorted in between moans each time he pumped back inside you. Within a matter of seconds he pulled out and flipped you over on your stomach effortlessly. He pulled your hips up and slammed back into you, this time harder and faster causing you to curse loudly with every movement of his hips. You let out a yelp as you felt a harsh slap to your ass, "guess we haven't learned our lesson have we?" He slapped your ass again, "wanna keep acting like a fucking brat? I'll treat you like one." He snapped his hips into yours, getting deeper and deeper with each thrust, your screams were being muffled by the sheets, he was reaching places you never knew were even possible. He grabbed your hair and pulled you up so you were against his chest, "ungrateful little whore." He mumbled into your ear before throwing you back down to the bed and proceeded to ram into you mercilessly causing your eyes to roll backwards and your mouth fell agape. He had a grip on your hips that were surly going to leave bruises when he was done with you and was scolding you for your bad behaviour, but you were so fucked out of your mind that you couldn't concentrate on anything but the extreme pleasure from his deep and hard thrusts that were causing you to see stars, you could only barely manage to get out small breathless "sorry's" here and there.
The filthy noises of your hips slapping against each other and the squelching of your wet cunt echoed throughout the room turning you on more, making the knot in your lower abdomen grow larger and more painful, "pl-e-ease Ja- need- to- cum" you groaned out in pure bliss, you began clenching around him making it harder for him to move and pushed him closer to the edge. "Shit-" he cursed under his breath, "cum for me, love-" he told you before moaning out again. He pulled you up again, this time by the waist and held you as your orgasm began to wash over you, "you're okay, I'm right here.." the intense sensation of the knot coming undone made you whine and cry out, legs shaking and you fell back into him with your head falling back on his shoulder as he continued to fuck into you and talk you through your orgasm. At this point you couldn't even form coherent sentences and your mind was a complete blur, still clenching hard around him as the feeling was still washing over you. He eventually finished inside of you, spilling his seed deep into your pussy. You both stayed in that position for a bit before he gently put you down, still buried deep inside of you. You caught your breaths and he slowly took his cock out of your messy hole causing you to whimper, still feeling overly sensitive, “Shh, it’s okay, you’re okay.” he assured. The mixture of his cum and your sticky juices spilled out of you as he pulled out, he grabbed a towel and cleaned up the mess you'd both made and changed you into more comfortable clothes as you were too out of it to do it yourself, making sure to be careful around the bruises on your hips and your sensitive area. He laid down beside you in the covers and pulled you close, you instantly snuggling into him.
"Was I too rough, my love..?" He questioned, you looked up into his deep brown eyes and smiled, "no, you weren't" you said softly, knowing full well that you were definitely going to have trouble walking for at least a few days. He kissed your forehead and played with your hair as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear and soon after, you fell asleep.
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violent-darkness · 2 days
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Stress Relief
Billy Butcher x You
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Warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, angst.
Summary: You struggle with your feelings for Butcher while he grapples with his own demons. The stress from trying to take down Homelander is weighing heavily on his shoulders. You desperately try to help him and ease his tension one way or another. Despite Butcher’s reluctance, you are determined to break through his defenses.
The obnoxious ringing echoed across the empty office space and startled you. You peeked at your phone screen: “Come to our bar now, some hot men are buying us drinks.” You chuckled. Back in the day, these types of texts from your bff would get you up and going in an instant. But lately, things have been a little different. You glanced at Butcher’s empty desk and let out a deep sigh. The made-up excuse was always work, but the truth was that ever since your drunk make-out session with him a few months ago, you didn’t really want anyone else. If only he were of the same opinion. The following day he gave you a whole speech about how it was a mistake and you deserved better. He’d been acting like nothing happened ever since. Although you regularly caught him staring at you, when he thought you weren’t watching, his gaze lingering with an intensity that made your heart race.
Your train of thought was suddenly interrupted by the man himself. Billy Butcher stormed in, his hurried footsteps pounding like a war drum. The sound reverberated through the empty office. He slammed the door behind him so hard that it almost came off its hinges.
You bit your lip, trying to gauge his mood. He barely seemed to notice your presence and headed straight to his desk. Grabbing a bottle of vodka from the cabinet, he gulped down several large swigs. He was panting heavily, eyes filled with rage. 
“Billy…” you uttered. This was the first time he actually looked at you. His gaze softened, but just for a moment, before his face twisted in anger again.
“Stay out of it,” he grunted as he headed for the door.
“Look, I know that you want to bring down Homelander more than anything. We all fucking do. But it’s starting to wear you down,” you confronted him. The truth was no one from the team really liked him. Everyone but you thought that he was an asshole. His increasing irritability and tension lately only bothered them because he was even more unbearable than usual. But you didn’t care about that. You could see right through his bullshit and knew that this was simply a mask, a little show he put on to keep people at a distance. You were desperately trying to break through and make him lower his guard.
But instead Butcher gave you a death stare. “I ain’t slowin' down until I put down the wanker,” he hissed at you.
“At least talk to someone… Talk to me. Let me help you,” you pleaded.
“Ain’t no way you can help me, luv.” He waved his hand dismissively and exited, leaving the air thick with unresolved feelings. 
You stared at his retreating figure, heart racing with frustration and worry amidst the eerily quiet office space. Why couldn’t he see that you wanted to help? Your mind raced, refusing to surrender. Butcher was the one who found you in that garbage of a life you had and offered you a chance on his team. He practically saved you and never once judged you for your past or the horrible things you’d done. You owed him big time and were determined to find a way to help him. You got up from your desk and started pacing across the room. Suddenly your eyes widened and a look of satisfaction crossed your face. If he was unwilling to talk, then perhaps there were other ways to reach him. The idea was good, but had the potential to end up as a complete disaster for you. You went to Butcher’s desk and grabbed the bottle of vodka. With what you were about to do, you needed all the support you could get. The heavy smell of alcohol made you wince, but you took a few gulps anyway before grabbing your jacket and walking out of the office.
His apartment was close by. You just hoped he would be there and not in some bar, drinking himself into oblivion. He opened the door on the third knock, just as you were about to give up. “Bloody hell, what are ya doin’ here?” His brows furrowed and he almost shut the door right back in your face, but you swiftly pushed him inside. Without giving him a second to think, you pressed your lips to his, your tongue seeking access to his mouth, which he willingly provided. It was a messy, passionate kiss, reflecting the unspoken desire you had for one another. But when the initial rush passed, Butcher came to his senses, grabbed you by the shoulders, and pulled you away. His brows arched as he gave you a long stare, still catching his breath. It wasn’t often that this man was left speechless, but you’d managed to do it. “We don’t have to talk, you know, we can just fuck. I can help you take the edge off,” you held his gaze and smirked at him, trying your best to put on a confident face. He made a long pause. You could see the internal struggle written all over his face. His eyes were filled with desire as he reached his hand toward your face, but stopped midway and let it fall back to his side.
“You should leave,” he finally muttered, averting his gaze. Your heart sunk into your stomach. Frustration surged as you tried to break through the concrete wall he was hiding behind. “Oh, come on, don’t tell me you don’t want me too. I’ve seen the way you look at me, when you think I am not watching.” Butcher clenched his jaw, still looking away. You noticed him tensing, fighting his internal demons. Silence. Complete and utter silence. A flush of redness crept up your neck. You suddenly felt like a complete fool, being so bluntly rejected by him. It was too much, even for you. “Fuck you, Billy,” you finally hissed at him and made a few steps towards the door, feeling completely embarrassed. “I’m only gonna ruin you, doll. You got no place around a cunt like me. Better stay away,” his voice was gruff, weighed down by unspoken truths. But for the first time there was a hint of vulnerability in it. You turned around to look at him. He was staring at the floor, looking so sad and broken that it made your heart ache. You closed the distance between the two of you and he didn’t object. “Don’t push me away, Billy,” you spoke softly, sincerely. “Haven’t you understood by now? I am not afraid of the real you. Never have been. On the contrary, I want you to show me the monster you claim to be.”
His eyes widened as he turned to look at you once again. You knelt before him and reached for the belt of his jeans. “Let me ease some of your tension. Make you forget about a shitty day in a shitty life. I want nothing more than that. Please, Billy, let me. Please, please, please, you need this so much. And I do too,” you begged him, putting yourself entirely at his mercy, fully aware how pathetic you sounded.
Butcher knew that you were too young and too good for him. He didn’t want to drag you down into the dirt with him. He wanted to stop you - to protect you from his chaos. He really did. But how could he? He was thinking about you constantly ever since you joined the team. You had occupied the deepest, darkest corners of his brain. The drunken hookup was a mistake he swore he would never repeat. But ever since then, it was the only thing he thought about when he touched himself. The way you were begging him now—so needy, so desperate for him—made him painfully hard. He had no strength left to continue fighting with himself.
Butcher tried to stop you. He really did. But instead he watched as you unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his jeans. The sheer sight of your small, gentle hand gripping his pulsating cock, made him go feral. At that moment he was completely gone. His fingers clenched your hair and pushed the whole length of his cock in your throat. You couldn’t breathe and started gagging, but Butcher didn’t care. He started controlling your movements, guiding your head back and forth across his length, shedding the tension from the bad day he’d had piece by piece. At some point he pulled out to look at your face - makeup all smeared and eyes teary. He really liked the sight of you in this condition. So dirty for him. It was a million times better than his fantasies.
 “You want to see the monster, huh?” Butcher teased, and you nodded enthusiastically, your cunt throbbing painfully for him.
“Are you sure you can take it? Such a fragile lil’ thing you are?” He brushed his thumb along your cheek. 
“Please, I can take it,” you whimpered, filled with longing, the intensity of your feelings evident in the quiver of your breath.
“So desperate,” Butcher snickered. The way you begged him made him want to do unspeakable things to you, to see how far he could go. Before you knew it, he spat in your face and dragged you by your hair across the floor, tossing you onto the bed like a sack of potatoes. “Spread your legs,” he ordered imperiously, placing his large hand on your throat. With the other he grabbed his cock, pressed the tip on your clit and started rubbing it. Waves of pleasure began spreading across your body. Amidst your intensifying moans, he pushed deep inside you with one harsh thrust, not giving you time to adjust to his size. Your moan turned into a scream. “Billy…” you winced.
“Tsk, tsk, you asked for this, luv,” he taunted, not bothering to temper his movements. Pretty soon, his steady rhythm combined with the slight pressure he applied on your throat transformed your pain into pleasure and you began purring in his ear. He felt so good, reaching all your sensitive spots, filling you up completely. His weight was pressing down on you, the heat of his body mixing with the distinct scent of musk and vodka. His hand, which was tightly curled around your throat, gave him full control over you. You were merely his stress relief, a tool he used. The pressure was gradually building up within you as you were nearing your climax. Butcher could sense that you were close, probably one or two thrusts away, when he stopped abruptly. This created a void inside you. You started squirming and whimpering, trying to pull him toward you, which only made him chuckle.
“You are not coming just yet,” he leaned in to whisper in your ear.
“Please,” you begged and whimpered, but he paid no attention to your pleas as he turned you on your stomach and pinned your head on the bed. He gave you a hard slap on your butt, before shoving his cock deep inside you once again. His movements were fast and intensive, eager. The movements of someone who’d been needing a proper fuck for a long time. Every thrust washed away the tension that had built up over the past months, untying the knot in his stomach, making him forget all the dirt. And how could he not? In front of him was a fragile little thing with a perfect cunt, that basically begged him to snap her in two. You made him forget all his worries, because at this moment fucking you was the only thing that mattered in the world. You were a far better remedy than alcohol or any other drug he had ever tasted. 
He started rubbing your clit with consistent circular motions. The added pleasure was too much to handle, sending you over the edge. Your orgasm exploded inside you, turning you into a wreck - legs shaking uncontrollably, screams and whimpers. Seeing you break down on his cock like this was too much for Butcher. His thrusts became more intense, choppy. He followed you soon after and with a few final movements pumped his cum deep inside you, letting out a loud groan. The high from his orgasm acted like a veil, clouding all his worries. He lingered in that blissful moment, savoring the connection with you, trying to make it last as long as possible. After a while, he laid back on the bed, his legs trembling slightly, and pulled you into his embrace.
“You feeling better?” you placed a soft kiss on his cheek, after a long moment of silence filled only with your shared panting.
“Fuckin’ hell, you really are somethin’.” For the first time in months, you saw a genuine smile on Butcher’s lips as he pressed a kiss to your temple.
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twoduelsabers · 2 days
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mistakes of an apprentice
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the ask -> hey there! could i request a fic...you're badly hurt and qimir in disguise finds you. as injured as you are you just beg him not to tell your master, fearful of what he will do to such a weak pupil. qimir corrects your assumptions.
content warnings -> description of injuries, canon typical violence
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it was almost impossible to stay out of sight on nar shaddaa. especially while leaving a trail of blood after every step. the only thing she could use to hide were the narrow alleys across the city, and even they weren't nearly as empty as they should be.
staying focused was difficult, when the reminder of her failure made walking difficult. there wouldn't be an issue if the guards were equipped with blasters only. instead, they carried fucking swords, and the one she was ordered to kill wielded a lightsaber, probably bought on the black market. of course, they weren't a match for her, but she heavily underestimated the seriousness of the situation. and now she paid the price- a cut in the side of her stomach, too deep for her liking.
she cursed under her breath. she was a sith. or, at least she tried to be one. with her potential, even a dozen of armed men shouldn't be an obstacle.
a cough escaped her throat, and she shivered. she could barely walk, and if her master found out just how weak she was... he trained her to defend herself. to attack. to kill. he can't see that she won, but barely.
yet, he probably will. one way or another. qimir might pass on what he was about to see- her vulnerable, wounded state. still, she prayed that he wouldn't.
it took her a few more turns and a worrying amount of effort to get to the ship. it stood in a very old, suspiciously looking dock, but she didn't bother with finding a more dignified place. it was supposed to be an "in-and-out" job.
first thing she was greeted with was qimir rushing to her side.
"finally!" he voiced in an accusing tone. "did you have fun? you know, i waited here for hours...and worried." he sent her a cheeky smile.
as much as his banter might have been funny at times, this was definitely not one of them. and he seemed to realise that rather quickly.
"are you...okay?"
she shut her eyes tightly and exhaled. her side burned like fire, and she was exhausted.
"it's just a- scratch." her voice was strained, and in opposition to her own words, her knees almost gave out.
qimir was quick to catch her. his brows furrowed, as he tried to hold her up. his usual, clumsy demeanor was replaced by seriousness.
"you're hurt." he stated, seating her down on the ground, and leaning her back on the wall. "where?"
he tried to uncover her cloak, but she grabbed his wrist instantly, stopping him in place.
"qimir." his name fell out of her lips, sounding like a plea. "don't tell my master. you hear me?"
he tilted his head in confusion.
"please. please! he will think i'm weak. it doesn't matter i killed that man. that i killed- i killed them all." her voice wavered. "all he will see is that i got injured- badly injured. he trained me so i would be able to handle myself, but turns out i- i can't."
the dock they were in was empty, and she thanked the maker for that. she thanked the maker for the shadows that hopefully covered her teary eyes.
if her master decided she is, in fact, too weak, he'd disown her, in the best case scenario. she'd never see qimir again.
or he'd kill her.
both of these options weighted heavy on her shoulders. she couldn't even bring herself to look at qimir.
he called out her name quietly, snapping her out of her thoughts.
"we need to take care of this. now." he urged, yanking his wrist away from her grasp.
"qimir, please." she uttered, desperate, exhausted and in pain. "he'll throw me away."
qimir froze, clenching his jaw. did she really think he'd get rid of her, just like that? today was the first solo mission he assigned her with, and force, she completed it! he knew he wasn't the one to show affection whilst underneath the mask- but he tried to make up for it when he was just qimir. when he was her guide and supplier. he wanted to make up for that.
but of course, she had no clue.
and now, she was in front of him, wounded and barely conscious.
he needed to make her understand.
"take that cloak off. i'm not asking." qimir said firmly, as he usually would during training.
her eyes widened at the sudden change of attitude. his voice sounded different from how it usually was. there was something behind it- something she couldn't quite place.
yet she obliged, shrugging the fabric off of her shoulders, wincing. she revealed the injury, shifting a little to the side. her robes were already damp and colored with dark crimson.
qimir didn't say a word, and his expression was unreadable, yet laced with worry. he seemed to be contemplating something.
"stay still." he commanded quietly.
he moved one of his hands to rest atop of her wound.
"what are you doing-?" she hissed. the pain certainly didn't get any better from the pressure.
once again, he remained silent. he focused, steadying his breath, and letting his energy flow through his extended arm.
she felt the burn dissolving, and she wondered if qimir finally used his potion-making skills...
"what are you do-" she started, but he cut her off.
"there."
what has he done? she peered down carefully, expecting to see the injury but-
there was nothing there. her skin was untouched.
in one terrifying second, she had realised that qimir had healed her. force-healed her.
it could mean only one thing, and the thought alone made her stomach twist in fear.
"master." was all she could utter.
qimir gaze was different now. his force signature shifted to a dark and heavy, familiar one.
"you did well today, acolyte."
he said calmly, as if nothing happened.
"master- i-i'm so sorry-" uncertainty gnawed at her. what could all of this mean for her? for them?
"you should rest." qimir's voice was gentle, so different from what he sounded like from under the mask.
as he stood up, he extended his hand towards her.
she stared at it dumbly for a moment, then hesitantly let him pull her up, to his side.
to his side, where she belonged.
now, she was certain of it.
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