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fushitoru · 1 day ago

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chapter 6: the house party a bridgerton au

pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary ⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, duke gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?

warnings ⸺ nsfw, enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, SUGGESTIVE, eventual smut, jealousy, misogyny, description of injury, concussion, blood, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly

chapter summary ⸺ you are bedridden, recovering from your wound, when gojo delivers season-changing news. the house party that follows buzzes with tension, and an unexpected arrival that sends ripples through the ton (7.4k)

a/n thank you as always to the pooks @/sinn-clair for beta reading this <333 i'll see you after the chapter is over!

prev. the fall | next. soon!

general masterlist | series masterlist

Gentle Reader,

One query occupies this Author's mind, be it ladies or mamas alike—what exactly are Miss Itadori and Lord Gojo up to in the countryside? Perhaps a trifling dalliance of hearts, or will the ton bear witness to a scandal uncovered when they arrive for the house party? After having arrived a week early—and positioned as the diamond of the season—one must guess that if all goes well and Miss Itadori plays her cards right, she will be showing off her new surely lavish diamond engagement ring. Yet, she must take great care, for to err in this delicate matter would be to jeopardize a most significant match with Lord Gojo. Only time shall tell the outcome of this intrigue.

⸻ LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS

Upon waking, the physician informed you that you had been unconscious for some days. Though no immediate danger threatened you, it had been long enough to send both families into a state of great disquiet. It seemed that even before you’d regained full awareness, a servant—who had gasped upon hearing your feeble request for water—had swiftly spread the news, for not a moment later Yuji burst into the room.

“SISTER!” he exclaims, hurtling his way towards you with heavy steps. You flinch in your position on the bed at the sound of his loud voice. “You are awake! Mama seemed like she would faint, Choso had almost popped a bloody vein, he looked like he was about to challenge Lord Gojo to a duel—”

“Yuji! My dear,” you had to shout, interrupting the boy’s ramblings, giving him an uneasy smile. “Lower your volume, please. I might faint back into unconsciousness due to the strain, and this time you will be the one dueling Choso.”

The pout Yuji adopts is akin to a chastened hound as he grabs a chair to sit next to you. You take this moment to surveil your surroundings, now with a clear headedness granted to you that hadn’t been granted before. There were fresh flowers adorning a vase on the table on your bedside, and you seemed to be wearing a shift, cleaned and changed out of your dirty and mud-ridden dress. There was a gauze surrounding your head, and you could feel some similar cloth on your ankle.

You turned to your brother. “Now then, what were you saying?”

He perks up. “Well, you’ve been in quite a state, dear sister! It’s not every day you’re injured before breaking fast. Choso practically spat his tea when he heard! And, of course, Duchess Gojo has been endlessly apologetic. Between Mama, Choso, and me, we’ve all been in quite a state. I daresay you’re hardly known for clumsiness—although you do have your moments on horseback.” At the memories seemingly pooling themselves in his mind, Yuji sniggers while you shoot him a look to not be testy. “And Gojo has been nothing short of attentive. No doubt the man’s come in to change your flowers more than the doctor’s visited you. He’s so caring, he even cares for a worm like you!”

You ignore Yuji’s jab, instead forcing yourself not to be gripped by the fact that Gojo had been so…attentive to you. Of course, it was as an indirect result of his sheer vexing nature that you were bedridden in such a manner, so it should not set your heart aflutter like a foolish girl. But your traitorous heart seems to hate listening to reason.

You begin to nod slowly. “And how many days have I been out? When is the house party?” Taking a gander at the windows in the room you were situated in, you could see the moon and star’s light filtering the curtains. You weren’t sure if it was the evening or night or completely early in the morning.

He looks up to the ceiling, as if calculating something, brows furrowed. “Today.”

Groaning, you put your head in your hands, playing with your hair as it falls through the gaps of your fingers. “Mother is going to kill me.”

“Oh, indeed,” Yuji replied with a hum, stretching his arms in a cat-like yawn. “Now, I must get back to my rest. The servants were gossiping near my door, so I thought I’d see for myself that you weren’t dead.” He kissed you on the cheek before heading to the door. “Sleep, sister, for I expect Mama will tire you endlessly come morning.”

Later, a gentle nudge at your arm and a few soft “Miss! Wake up!”’s roused you from sleep. You opened your eyes to find a maid hunched over you, relief clear in her expression as you met her gaze with a drowsy squint. “Miss, Lord Gojo requests your presence. May I allow him in?”

With a nod, you fought off your annoyance at having been disturbed. The maid, visibly flustered, hurried to admit Gojo, who soon approached with quiet footsteps. As you propped yourself up, arms crossed, you gave him a mildly reproachful look. “Gojo, you’ve roused me from my slumber. I trust this is a matter of utmost importance—-” you began, then trailed off as you took in his expression.

He was taut, as though his very sinews were wound tight. Standing rigidly, his jaw clenched, his gaze flitted everywhere but to you. Troubled, you tried, “Gojo?”

At the sound of his name, he looked sharply at you and seemed to gather himself. “Ah… forgive me.” He took a seat and smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes, artificial. “How is your recovery?” You eye him suspiciously. His leg is moving up and down anxiously, the action minute in a way that makes you think he’s not aware of doing it. The tight and strained smile on his face seems uncanny, his concern seeming out of place. “Well, as much as it can be for me bleeding out pints and pints of blood from my head,” at that, you note that he subtly flinches, “but all is well!” You spread out your arms and give him a dazzling smile, and his eyes follow. “I’m sure my mama and my maid are itching to rush in here to prepare me for the house party.” Giving him a playful glare, you continue, “And just for the pain you caused me, you ought to have two dances and a few pastries prepared tonight.”

At that, he looks at you for a quick glance before quickly turning away, seemingly collecting himself. In what you could observe in his previous expression, you were surprised to see yearning present in his blue eyes, filled with feelings that perplexed you. Gojo was acting very odd.

Then, he drew in a measured breath, his jaw clenched as if bracing himself for what he was about to say. He finally looked at you, a shadowed intensity in his gaze that made your heart beat faster—not in the way it used to when his eyes sparked with wit, but with a sense of foreboding.

"Miss Itadori," he began, his voice lower, lacking the familiar, teasing cadence. "I must apologize for the trouble I have brought upon you. I was… heedless, perhaps even reckless, and it seems I have caused you nothing but suffering."

You frowned, confusion beginning to bubble beneath the surface as he paused, clearly struggling to continue. He seemed almost pitiable, looking down at his hands, which were tightly woven together, his knuckles pale. But pity was not a feeling you had patience for. Not now. Not with Gojo of all people.

"Trouble?" you repeated, folding your arms. "I do believe that's an understatement, my lord. A mere misstep, surely?"

His eyes flicked back to yours, the corner of his mouth tugging in a grim semblance of a smile. "Understatement or not, it remains the truth," he replied, his voice nearly a murmur. "I cannot in good conscience continue this… attachment we have formed. The position of courtship our mamas have placed us in. For I fear it is you who stands to lose most dearly if I remain by your side."

You stiffened, his words crashing over you like a cold wave. "Attachment?" you said, bitterness coloring the word. "Do not dress it up with such kind words, Lord Gojo. An attachment is something formed with care, with respect—qualities you seem to find inconvenient."

He winced but did not break eye contact. "I will not argue with you," he said softly, voice steady in its regret. "Perhaps I am no master of attachments, nor have I ever claimed to be. But know that I had never wished to see you harmed—"

"Harmed?" you interrupted, your voice growing louder as anger swelled within you. "Is this some twisted apology, then? A show of remorse for the inconvenience of your whims?"

Gojo opened his mouth to respond, but you did not allow him the chance.

"How very noble of you, Lord Gojo," you continued, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "After all this time, to simply say, 'Forgive me; I shall now remove myself from your life,' as if that makes up for the chaos you’ve brought upon me? As if I am but a pawn to be moved at your discretion?"

His face softened slightly, as if he were seeing something in you he hadn't fully expected—a quiet resolve beneath your anger, a dignity that refused to be bruised. "No, Miss Itadori," he said quietly. "I do not wish to see you as a pawn. After all, from what I understand is that you do not know what you desire—and I would only be exploiting that. I only… I only wish to relieve you of the burdens I seem to bring."

You laughed, the sound bitter and laced with fury. "Know what I want? As if you do, dropping pretenses with commoners and putting on your mask for the ton. And relieve me? I don’t think you understand what it is you’ve done, Gojo."

This conversation was dangerous. The emotions you hid under the air of nonchalance were steadily bubbling up, and it seemed that now, your sentiments were threatening to boil over at the sheer audacity of Gojo breaking off this arrangement, of what the ton would think today if he were to be avoiding you like the plague.

He flinched at the sound of his name on your lips, spoken with such venom. A muscle in his jaw ticked, but he made no move to respond, simply watched as you gathered your thoughts, your gaze piercing.

"All this time," you said, each word sharper than the last, "I was led to believe there was something more to your attentions. And now, you simply wash your hands of it? You think yourself a gentleman for doing so?"

"Miss Itadori," he said, his voice strained. "I am—"

"You are a coward," you spat, and his eyes widened, the faintest hint of pain flashing in their depths. "Yes, that’s right. A coward, for trying to protect yourself under the guise of protecting me. All this talk of 'relieving me'—do not act as if your decision was made out of kindness." (a/n: OH NO SHE DIDNTTTTT)

"Do you not understand?" he interjected, a sudden fierceness in his voice, his composure beginning to slip. "This is not some petty whim, nor a game. My intentions… they were never meant to bring you harm, but they did. And I cannot bear to see it continue."

"Bear to see it continue?" you repeated incredulously. "Do you think I am some doll, some trifle to discard at your convenience?"

"That was never my intent!" he exclaimed, voice rising in frustration. "If you would but see reason—"

"Reason? From you?" you laughed bitterly, barely able to contain the fury welling up inside you. "Your idea of reason is nothing more than self-preservation, Lord Gojo. How convenient it must be to absolve yourself of guilt by deciding I am better off without you."

He fell silent, the anger in his face ebbing, replaced by a kind of desperation. "You do not understand," he said, quieter, almost pleading. "If I were to stay… if I were to court you in earnest, it would not be the life you think it to be."

"Then let that be my choice to make," you shot back, crossing your arms. "But no—this is not about my well-being, not truly. It is about you, Gojo. It has always been about you."

A tense silence stretched between you, filled only by the soft, uneven breaths that escaped both of you. For a moment, neither dared to speak, both caught in the tangled emotions that hung thick in the air.

Finally, Gojo looked down, his eyes shuttered, his voice weary. "Then hate me, if you must. But I am done with this charade."

"Hate you?" you repeated, the word tasting strange on your tongue. "No, Lord Gojo. Hatred would imply I care enough to feel anything toward you."

Your entire body seethed with fury, every muscle trembling with the strain of keeping yourself upright, sitting on your bed. You couldn't storm out—not with your wounded leg refusing to bear even a fraction of the anger swelling within you. Instead, you pushed yourself up on shaking arms, glaring at him with such venom that he instinctively stepped back.

"Get out," you spat, the words laced with ice, your voice rising as if to fill the entire room. "Out! Now, Gojo—leave me this instant!"

He froze, his shoulders tense as he looked at you with something unreadable, but he made no move toward the door.

"I said leave!" you shrieked—your voice shrill—the strain of it making you nearly lose balance, but you didn't care. Hot tears stung your eyes, and you bit them back, forcing yourself to breathe through the betrayal clawing at your chest. "Take your false apologies, your noble pretensions, and get out of my sight. Go, and never, ever darken my door again."

His mouth opened, as if he might say something—perhaps even something that might soothe the jagged edges of your heart. But your furious gaze dared him to try.

With a pained expression, he finally gave a nod, stepping back toward the door. He lingered for a moment, one last helpless look crossing his face before he turned away, leaving without another word.

The door clicked shut, and you were left alone, shaking with fury, your breath ragged. Your eyes were still on that door, your heart racing, as though expecting him to come back, to take it all back, to be the man you'd witnessed yesterday. But deep down, you knew he would not return.

The first glimmers of morning filtered through the heavy drapes as you stirred awake, still dazed from the events that had left you bedridden. The memories of Gojo’s departure settled heavily on your chest, like a stone dropped in a lake, rippling outward and disturbing any possibility of calm. Your mind drifted over the previous night’s argument, replaying words, and then, with a cringe, the heated moments where you felt every last ounce of self-restraint slip from your grasp.

A small part of you reasoned that you may have been rash—that your anger and hurt had overtaken good sense. After all, it was you who deemed your and Gojo’s match impossible. So why were you so hurt?

Before you could linger on these thoughts, there was a soft knock at your door.

"Come in," you murmured, propping yourself up gingerly.

What followed soft footsteps was Choso, his gaze warm and steady as he entered, carrying the ease of familiarity that only he could. As he approached, he pulled a chair beside your bed and gave a faint smile.

Choso stepped in quietly, his face softened by a rare smile as he approached. “Awake at last,” he said gently, taking a seat beside you with the care one might afford a delicate flower. "I was beginning to think you'd sleep through the entire house party."

He reached out, his hand resting on the crown of your head, fingers slipping through your hair in a soothing rhythm. The fondness in his touch eased the last of the stiffness in your frame, a balm against the soreness both physical and emotional.

“You worry too much,” you muttered, allowing yourself to lean into the comfort he offered, your voice softening as his hand continued to gently scratch at your scalp.

“You look better today,” he said softly, continuing his familiar, soothing rhythm with his fingers. “Though, I’ll admit, you gave us all quite a scare.”

You managed a small smile, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease slightly under his touch. “I suppose I was overdue for a bit of excitement,” you murmured, though the attempt at levity felt thin, even to your own ears.

Choso’s hand stilled momentarily, and his gaze grew searching as he looked at you. “What truly happened yesterday?” he asked, his voice low with concern. “There’s more here than an unfortunate fall, isn’t there?”

You stiffened slightly, glancing away from him. “It was nothing,” you replied, willing your tone to sound convincing. “Just… an ill-timed accident. Nothing to concern yourself with.”

But Choso was not so easily deterred. He watched you closely, his brow furrowing with worry. “You’ve always been a poor liar, sister,” he murmured. “If something happened, you know you can tell me. I only want to understand.”

The quiet earnestness in his tone gnawed at you, and for a moment, you considered confiding in him. But the idea of revisiting last night’s turmoil felt too raw, too immediate. “I’m fine, truly,” you insisted, meeting his gaze with as much steadiness as you could muster. “It was… nothing that can’t be mended with rest.”

Choso’s gaze lingered on you, his fingers resuming their gentle tracing along your scalp as if that alone could soothe whatever burden you were carrying. “Well,” he finally said, his tone filled with fond exasperation, “I won’t press you. But I trust you’ll speak of it when you feel you are ready.”

You gave a slight nod, grateful for his restraint. The quiet between you was comforting, grounding, as he continued his rhythmic motions, easing your thoughts in a way that words could not.

After a long moment, he broke the silence again, his tone lighter this time. “On a more cheerful note,” he began, a faint smile playing on his lips, “you’ll have another visitor tomorrow.”

“Oh?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, though a part of you already guessed who he meant.

“Yes,” he confirmed, a knowing glint in his eye. “Sukuna received word of your injury and set off at once. He’ll be here by morning.”

You let out a small breath, a mixture of relief and trepidation filling you. “Tomorrow, then,” you repeated, feeling a hint of warmth at the thought. “It seems my brothers cannot resist making a fuss.”

Choso chuckled, squeezing your hand gently. “It’s what we’re here for. And perhaps Sukuna’s presence will help you feel a bit more at ease during the house party. He’ll see to it that no one bothers you unduly.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that, the thought of Sukuna’s reassuring, if overbearing, presence lifting your spirits slightly. “Well, at least there’s that to look forward to,” you murmured, and, with a soft sigh, leaned back against your pillows, letting Choso’s calming presence ease the lingering shadows of last night’s ordeal, even if temporary.

For you had a beast of a social gathering to deal with today, the same one where the ton would descend upon the outcome of your match, ready to laugh at you: the house party.

“He what?”

You flinched, scowling as you clutched your ears. Nobara’s shrill voice was not helping your recovery, nor were her rough combs through your hair; but alas, beauty has a price, and it’s one you’re reluctantly willing to pay. You oh-so terribly wanted to politely decline the formal invitation, but it seemed that the moment you woke, your mother was dead set on getting you ready for what she thought was your engagement party. Little did she know that her not so future in law had gotten rid of you as if you were a stray animal latched onto him, but who were you to burst her bubble?

Perhaps you ought to dread the inevitable fallout from your mother when the truth emerged, but you consoled yourself with the thought of drowning your sorrows in champagne tonight, delaying her wrath for at least a little while. Besides, the prospect of Sukuna’s impending arrival tomorrow brought you some comfort; his unruly nature often served as a distraction from your own troubles.

You sighed heavily, meeting Nobara’s furious gaze in the mirror. “He merely said he wished to absolve me of any trouble he had caused.”

“Good riddance!” Nobara shrieked, her hand furiously waving around the hair brush in a way that made you wary, for it would not be pleasant for it to make contact with your already tender head. “He was never the one for you to pursue, for he lacks the honor of a true gentleman! And yet—oh, heavens!” She gestured at you accusingly with the brush, her tone turning sharp. “Why, pray, do you appear so disheartened?”

You open your mouth immediately, indignant and expecting your wit, your usual ally, to conjure a response for you, only to be left open-mouthed when it came up short. Nobara seemed to sense your hesitance, opening her mouth to unleash yet another accusatory and reprimanding remark, but you quickly moved to fill your silence. “I suppose I am just…offended that he dare reject me, the diamond. The ton will seize upon this dissolution with glee. They shall revel in my supposed failure, for it will be indicative of my failure to the Queen.”

Nobara arched a brow, her skeptical silence speaking volumes. She clearly wasn’t convinced, and before she could level another charge against you, a knock sounded at the door.

“Sister, are you decent?”

“Enter, Choso,” you called out, hastily adjusting the neckline of your pale pink gown and straightening the strand of pearls around your neck.

Nobara opened the door, though she made no attempt to soften her posture. The hairbrush remained firmly in her grasp, poised like a weapon, and Choso cast it a wary glance as he stepped inside. His presence brought a sense of calm, even as his expression betrayed some inner turmoil. He hesitated for a moment before moving to sit at the edge of your vanity, his gaze flickering between you and Nobara.

You narrowed your eyes, suspicious of his silence. “Well, brother? Out with it,” you urged, though your voice lacked its usual sharpness.

He sighed, clearly reluctant. “Very well,” he began. “Pray, hear me out. You know I have never hidden my disapproval of Lord Gojo.” At the sound of that name, you flinched, though you quickly masked it with a curt nod. Choso continued nonetheless, his tone steady but earnest. “In light of recent events, I have taken it upon myself to form…a contingency plan of sorts.”

Your curiosity was piqued, though Nobara snapped at you to sit still as she continued combing through your hair. “Go on,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Choso leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering as though to ensure Nobara wouldn’t interrupt. “I have had the pleasure of conversing at length with Duke Nanami.”

You arched a brow, intrigued despite yourself. “The Duke Nanami?”

“Yes,” Choso confirmed. “He is an esteemed gentleman of considerable character, and, as fortune would have it, he is not currently pursuing anyone this season.”

Your lips parted, but no words came. Choso’s intent was clear, and the weight of his proposition settled over you like an unexpected storm. Nobara, meanwhile, had stilled entirely, her hairbrush forgotten in her hand as she turned to gawk at your brother.

“Is this,” she began, her voice disbelieving, “your solution to Gojo’s appalling behavior? To thrust her into the path of another?”

Choso shrugged, unbothered by her skepticism. “A better match by far, I would argue. The Duke has no such inclinations to trifling or dishonor.”

You sighed, leaning back as the tension in the room thickened. “And what makes you so certain the Duke would even entertain such an arrangement?” you asked, your voice tinged with a weariness you hadn’t intended to show.

Choso gave you a small smile, his hand reaching out to pat your shoulder. “Leave that to me, dear sister. For now, focus on enduring tonight’s ordeal. Tomorrow, you may take comfort in Sukuna’s arrival—and in the knowledge that your prospects are not as grim as they seem.”

You exhaled, unsure whether to feel gratitude or exasperation, as Choso rose from his seat. Whatever plans he had in motion, they would unfold in time. For now, you could only prepare yourself for the chaos that awaited.

Gojo had outdone himself. Truly, magnificently outdone himself.

From the moment you entered the house, your hand resting lightly on Choso’s arm, the stares began. They weren’t the polite glances reserved for new arrivals at such gatherings—these were sharp, lingering, and accompanied by a cacophony of whispers that only heightened your unease.

You straightened your back, chin held high, determined not to give any of them the satisfaction of seeing your discomfort. But it was impossible to ignore the way every eye seemed to follow you, every head turned to observe as you passed. Whatever it was that had stirred this interest, you were certain Gojo was at the heart of it.

Feeling the oppressive smog of stares, you knew where you could find solace: the drinks table, where you could down a flute of champagne alongside your stress. And right as you excuse yourself from Choso’s hold, who is now looking in the general direction of some men—particularly a gaggle of men that included Lord Geto and Duke Nanami, who were looking at something in the direction of the dance floor with interest. As you walk, you take in the scene: a beautiful chandelier, and red drapings and coverings embellished with gold, a bloody alternative to the Gojo icy blue. You’re not sure why today’s ensemble of colors didn’t include blue, but you believe it is fitting for what’s going to happen to you after this party is over and your mother finds out about the elephant in the room.

And as you glance longingly at the couples gliding across the floor, their movements synchronized with the lilting strains of the orchestra, your breath catches.

It is then that you see him.

Gojo Satoru is spinning a girl across the dance floor, his coat tails trailing like ribbons in the air. His lips move as he speaks, the tilt of his head paired with that too-familiar smirk. His partner laughs at something he’s said, a soft sound that reaches you even from this distance. You could almost identify her—there is no debutante in the ton you have not cataloged, no rival whose dossier you do not possess—but tonight, it does not matter. She is just a blur of chiffon and curls, another face in a sea of women enthralled by him.

Your chest tightens as you take in the scene, a memory unspooling unbidden.

Is this what your first dance with Gojo had looked like to others? Did you appear as enraptured as this girl, your steps as confident and sure beneath his lead? You remember his light touch at your back, his questions whispered so quietly you doubted even the orchestra could eavesdrop, his eyes full of a charm so practiced it felt like a spell cast just for you.

And yet now, the spell is broken.

He is steering her—steering everything—with such ease that it almost makes you laugh. Were he not so infuriating, you might have admired his grace, the way he seamlessly dominates both the conversation and the dance. His amusement is evident in the quirk of his brow, the corners of his mouth curling with every word she utters, no doubt answering his questions with meek enthusiasm.

She is simple. You can tell from the way he looks at her, the way he pauses before replying as if translating his own thoughts into something digestible for her. The way she beams at him—unaware of how deeply he calculates every move—is almost endearing. Almost.

He is drawing the same conclusions he did of you. Simple, lacking substance.

The thought leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

But then the girl laughs again, a little too loud, and Gojo’s expression flickers for just a second—long enough for you to notice. His smile tightens, his gaze sliding briefly across the room as though searching for something more stimulating. It is instinctual, this glance, and his head tilts in such a way that you know it will land on you if you linger a moment longer.

Your heart stutters in protest, your legs already moving.

Punch table. Right.

As you near it, you grab the closest drink and down it one sip, desperate for the cool of the liquid to calm both your throat and your heated mind, furious with thoughts and anxiety of those around you. And it was just as you begin to set down the cool glass that in your periphery comes the man who soon tests your resolve.

“Miss Itadori,” a voice drawled behind you, the unmistakable lilt of smugness weaving through it.

You turned, and there stood Naoya Zen’in, his grin as unctuous as ever. He bowed slightly, though the gesture felt more like mockery than courtesy. “I must say, you are positively radiant tonight.”

You inclined your head ever so slightly, each movement deliberate. “Mr. Zen’in. How kind of you to say.”

He grinned, and the sight was unsettling, a serpent preparing to strike. “Radiant, yes. A pity Lord Gojo has finally come to his senses and moved on. I thought the two of you might actually prove interesting.”

Your stomach churned, but you kept your expression serene. “I fail to see how my affairs are of interest to you, Mr. Zen’in.”

“Oh, but they are,” he said, stepping closer, his voice lowering as though he were sharing a confidant’s secret. “Everyone is watching, you know. Wondering why Lord Gojo is…otherwise occupied tonight.” He tilted his head, motioning discreetly toward the mantle, a few meters away, where Gojo stood, entertaining and welcoming another lady.

Your eyes betrayed you, flicking briefly in that direction. Gojo’s figure remained in your periphery, still close enough to notice but far enough to be unattainable. You tore your gaze away, unwilling to feed Naoya’s glee.

Naoya leaned in, his tone growing more audacious. “Quite the spectacle, wouldn’t you agree? Though perhaps it’s for the best. You have much to offer, Miss Itadori—breeding hips, for one.”

The words hit you like a slap, your mind reeling in fury and disbelief. Your breath hitched, but before you could muster a scathing retort, something else caught your attention.

Gojo’s hand, resting casually against the column, tightened into a fist. The movement was subtle, but unmistakable—a barely contained tension that you might have missed if you weren’t already attuned to his every breath, his every twitch.

Still, you refused to look directly at him. Whatever he felt, it mattered not.

“Mr. Zen’in,” you began, voice icy and measured, though the rage burned beneath the surface, “your comments are as inappropriate as they are unwelcome. I suggest—”

“Sister.”

Choso’s voice interrupted like a lifeline thrown to a drowning sailor. You turned to see your older brother approaching, his expression calm but his eyes sharp as they darted between you and Naoya. He came to your side, his imposing presence creating an impenetrable wall between you and the unwelcome intruder.

“Mr. Zen’in,” Choso greeted with a curt nod, his tone laced with a warning. “I trust you’ll excuse my sister. She and I were just about to take a turn about the room.”

Naoya’s grin faltered, but he recovered quickly, stepping back with a mocking bow. “Of course. Do enjoy your evening.”

Choso wasted no time, offering his arm to you. You took it gratefully, your legs unsteady as he guided you away from the scene and toward a quieter corner of the ballroom.

“Are you all right?” he asked softly, his voice gentle but firm, as though bracing himself for a truth he might not like.

You nodded, though the words escaped you. Your hands trembled slightly, and Choso placed his over yours, steadying you. “I saw the way you looked,” he murmured, his voice quieter now. “At Lord Gojo.”

Your breath caught, but you said nothing, focusing instead on the steady rhythm of your brother’s steps.

“Whatever he’s done—or hasn’t done—you are worth far more than his regard,” Choso continued, his tone resolute. “Do not forget that.” A pause. “Are you all right, Sister?”

“I am fine,” you lied, though your trembling hands betrayed you.

The evening only worsened from there.

More and more, you felt the weight of curious glances, the whispers growing louder as the night wore on. The absence of Gojo’s attention did not go unnoticed—least of all by your mother, who approached you and Choso with a determined expression, her fan snapping shut with a sharp flick of her wrist.

The warmth of the ballroom’s lights could not thaw the ice that slipped down your spine as your mother approached. Her movements were poised as ever, but the tightness in her lips and the fury barely hidden in her eyes told you everything. She stopped just short of you, her fan snapping shut with a sharp click that made you flinch.

“Explain,” she hissed, her voice low enough to avoid drawing the attention of onlookers but sharp enough to carve into you.

Your breath caught in your throat. You glanced towards Choso for reinforcement, but his furrowed brow and subtle shake of his head told you he would not intervene—not yet.

“I… don’t understand, Mother,” you murmured, though the words tasted hollow even as you said them.

“Do not toy with me, child,” she snapped, her tone still hushed but more cutting. “The entire room is whispering. Where is Lord Gojo? Why has he not so much as glanced in your direction tonight? Why is he—” Her eyes darted to the waltz floor, where Gojo had just excused himself from yet another partner. “Why is he dancing with others while you stand here like a forgotten debutante?”

The words hit like a slap, and you flinched again, your gaze falling to your gloved hands. You wanted to speak, to explain, but the lump in your throat grew larger with every second.

Her voice softened but grew no less fierce. “What have you done?”

Your chest tightened, and for a fleeting moment, you considered telling her everything—about the garden, about Gojo’s words, about how utterly humiliated you had felt. But then the heat of the ballroom pressed down on you, the glances from curious onlookers prickling your skin like needles.

You couldn’t. Not here.

So, you said nothing.

The silence between you stretched thin, your mother’s patience fraying with every passing moment. Finally, she straightened, her lips pressed into a pale line. “This is how you repay all that has been done for you?” she whispered, her voice trembling with restrained fury. “Do you even comprehend what this will do to your prospects? To this family? You have disgraced yourself, and worse—you have disgraced me.”

Her words left you hollow, the guilt settling into the spaces where indignation might have taken root. Still, you could not look up, nor could you summon any defense.

Your mother’s fan snapped open again with a sharp flick, the motion more violent than graceful. “We are leaving,” she declared, turning abruptly on her heel. “Now.”

Choso stepped closer, his hand brushing lightly against your elbow as if to steady you. You dared a glance at him, finding his gaze steady and quietly supportive. It was only his presence that kept your legs moving as you followed your mother toward the grand doors.

The weight of the room’s collective gaze bore down on you with every step. The music swelled in the background, mocking you with its cheerfulness. As you neared the exit, your feet faltered.

And then you saw him.

Gojo.

He stood near the edge of the dance floor, his posture uncharacteristically tense, his jaw clenched tightly, his usual easy confidence dimmed. His head tilted slightly, his eyes cutting through the crowd to meet yours.

Your breath hitched. In his gaze, you saw regret—yearning, even—and something else you couldn’t quite name.

But it didn’t matter.

You tore your eyes away, your jaw tightening as a steely resolve settled over you.

You would not break.

Not here. Not now. Not for him.

As you stepped into the cool night air, you drew in a deep breath, willing the ache in your chest to dissipate. Gojo Satoru had taken enough from you. Your heart, your dignity—no more.

If he thought you would crumble, he was mistaken.

He would regret this, you vowed silently.

And you would make certain of it.

The morning that came in a few days was no less disheartening than the night of the house party. The morning sun filtered weakly through the gauzy curtains of the drawing room, casting pale, lackluster patterns on the carpet. Even the sunlight seemed hesitant, as if it knew it had no place in the solemn atmosphere that hung over your family.

Even Yuji was solemn as you all sipped on your tea, the drawing room oddly quiet as you reflected in the aftermath of the past few days. The events of the house party still loomed over you. Your family’s hasty departure had been punctuated by the sight of your mother in whispered conversation with Duchess Gojo, their faces tight with the bitterness of dashed expectations. You had no doubt they had commiserated over your perceived recklessness and Gojo’s insolence, lamenting how the perfect match they had orchestrated had unraveled before their very eyes.

You had borne it all in silence.

But now, in the cold light of morning, your resolve felt brittle.

Your hands tightened around your teacup as you stared into the amber liquid, your reflection rippling with each shallow breath you took. Independence? That word felt hollow. You had fought for it, yes, but at what cost? The ton’s whispers had already begun. You could feel their weight pressing on you, suffocating in their judgment. The laughter and speculation at your expense would echo through parlors and ballrooms for weeks, if not months.

And yet, deep down, there was a spark of defiance. They thought this was your undoing. They thought you would crumble. But they had no idea.

"Why does it feel like we’re mourning?" Yuji muttered, breaking the silence. His voice was quiet, but the sarcasm was unmistakable. "It’s not as though anyone has died."

Your mother’s sigh this time was louder, sharper, and followed by a pointed glance in his direction. “Yuji, do not jest,” she snapped. "This is no laughing matter."

Choso, who had been reclining with one arm draped lazily over the armrest of his chair, sat up straighter. “Mother,” he said cautiously, his voice soft but steady, “I think it’s time we address what’s truly troubling you.”

Her handkerchief stilled in her lap. For a moment, the room was silent again, the tension thick enough to choke on.

“Troubling me?” she repeated, her tone icy. “You think I am troubled, Choso?”

“Everyone is troubled,” Choso replied, his gaze flicking briefly to you. "But perhaps if you said what’s on your mind, we could all breathe a little easier."

Your mother’s lips thinned as she sat up straighter, her shoulders stiff. “Very well,” she said sharply, “if you must know, I am ashamed.”

The word hit you like a slap, even though you had expected it. You gritted your teeth, staring down at your tea to hide the flush of anger and embarrassment creeping up your neck.

“Ashamed of what?” you asked quietly, your voice tighter than you intended.

“Of you,” she replied without hesitation. “Of the scandal you have brought upon this family. Do you think your actions have no consequences? Do you think the ton will simply overlook your…” She hesitated, clearly searching for the most cutting word. “Your antics with Lord Gojo?”

You felt Choso stiffen beside you, his protective instincts clearly flaring, but you held up a hand to stop him. You wouldn’t hide behind your brothers—not this time.

“I have done nothing wrong,” you said, your voice low but firm. “Gojo and I made a mutual decision that we were incompatible. We—”

“You humiliated yourself!” she interrupted, her voice rising. “And by extension, this family. Do you think people are speaking of him? No! It is you they ridicule. It is your name they sully.”

Your chest burned with anger and hurt, but before you could retort, Yuji shifted uncomfortably, muttering, “This is getting out of hand…”

“You think I care about their opinions?” you snapped, finally lifting your gaze to meet your mother’s. “The ton has always been cruel. They would find a reason to gossip no matter what I did. I refuse to live my life pandering to their expectations—”

“And look where that refusal has left you,” your mother interrupted, her voice shaking with fury. “Unmarried. Ruined. Who will have you now?”

You flinched, the words cutting deeper than you thought possible. Your lips parted, but no words came out. What could you possibly say to that?

The silence that followed was deafening.

Until a voice, smooth and amused, broke it.

“Now, now, Mother. I know you’ve always had a flair for the dramatic, but let us not turn your theatrics onto our dearest sister.”

All heads turned toward the entrance, where a figure lounged against the doorway, his presence commanding without even trying. There he stood—Sukuna, your brother, looking entirely too pleased with himself for someone who had kept you waiting for days. Both you and Yuji involuntarily gasped in excitement, while Choso only shook his head in amusement and crossed his arms.

He strode into the room with an air of nonchalance, his tailored attire immaculate, his smile one of mocking amusement. His gaze flicked to your mother, then to you, lingering for a moment as if to appraise the damage left in her wake.

“Good morning,” he said smoothly, the corners of his mouth curling. “I trust I’ve arrived in time to save you from a most tiresome sermon.”

Your mother bristled, but her voice faltered, her ire now redirected. “Sukuna, this is hardly the time for your irreverence—”

“And yet here I am,” he interrupted, dropping into a chair with the kind of ease that only Sukuna could muster. He leaned back, his sharp gaze softening just slightly as it fell on you. “I thought you might appreciate a reprieve. You seem to have had enough lectures for a lifetime.”

You could feel tears welling in your eyes. You had severely underestimated how much you missed your elder brother, seeing his presence stir a fondness and comfort you hadn’t felt ever since he left for Europe. And it seemed that your brothers shared your sentiment; Yuji was basically on his haunches, doing everything he could not to leave his chair to tackle Sukuna, and Choso barely holding in an amused smile.

“Still causing chaos wherever you go, I see,” Choso said dryly, though there was no malice in his tone.

Sukuna smirked. “Someone has to keep things interesting.”

Your mother huffed, her lips pressing into a thin line as she rose from her seat. “I refuse to be made a fool in my own home. Sukuna, do try not to corrupt your siblings further while I attend to matters of actual importance.” She swept out of the room with her usual imperious grace, leaving a silence in her wake.

As soon as she left, you left your chair to basically jumping on him, hugging him tightly as he reciprocated your hug with wrapping his big arms around yours with equal fervor. “Kuna,” you whispered, burying your face into his chest as the tears started flowing. His presence surrounded you, offering you a comfort and familiarity that the eventful weeks, ever since your debut, hadn’t offered

Sukuna looked down to you with a raised brow as he patted your head affectionately. “Well, that was entertaining. Now, who’s going to tell me what truly happened while I was gone?”

prev. the fall | next. soon!

general masterlist | series masterlist

a/n hi everyone!!! so i lied and said the update wasn't gonna take as long #womaninmalefields BUT thank you for your patience <3

so uh....we are now gonna enter the arc with DRAMAA. there will be yearning, there will be angst, and soon after, there will be fluff. idk if anyone needs to hear this, but, again, this series will have a happy ending. if anyone is sad, don't worry. i'm going to make gojo grovel <3

SUKUNA IS BACK SUKUNA IS BACK what do we think?! spoiler alert this is what sukuna will wanna do to gojo after reader spills the tea

THANK U FOR READING!!! rest assured reader a BADDIE there will be some showing ankles and lowering bustlines to start our reputation era and infuriate gojo but u didnt hear that from me !!!

comment and reblog to let me know ur thots ;3

TAGLIST:

@ncitygreen @backstagepaige @serinatly100986 @nappingmoon @coochellati

@extremelyexh4usted @yoshisaurmuchakoopas @nixiepixee @generalstephkenobi @vernasce-blogs

@byhuenii @geniejunn @a-girl-with-thoughts @dazedin2d @chuuqxs

@megumiivs @anthastudios @arranacosmist @arishaxml @jingyuun

@undercooked-chaos-noodle @jaegersity @camzzn @bluelai @1sweetheart1

@hyori2 @babyblue0t7 @iwanttoberich420 @rosso-seta @ladytamayolover

@kalulakunundrum @r0ckst4rjk @mo0sin @angelina7890 @jaeminaur

@yamiyas @cherry-blossoms-in-red @r3inae @lagataprrr @sasfransisco

@fortunatelyfurrygiver @aurora-tiny @gojonegs @luna-v-roiya @xxemmarldxx

@soobssedwithyourex @manyno @samkysnks @stefnarda @bbqsauceonmytitties2

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aelfgiure · 2 days ago

Text

From the moment I was coherent, I knew my family was different. Off, somehow, not normal. It was something in the way my parents looked at me when they thought I was distracted, the way they treated me like I didn't belong. Like I was an inconvenience.

My brother and sisters? So, so spoiled. Between mom's modeling and dad's business stuff, there was MONEY, and my siblings had it lavished on them. Toys, designer clothes - whatever they wanted. They were hugged, cosseted, taken on trips, given actual attention! They had a fabulous childhood.

Not like mine.

There was this undercurrent of resentment towards me that I never understood. I never had birthday parties, the folks were always "too busy", tossing some money my way so I could get a present. It never mattered what my grades were, I handed over the report cards to get signed and that was it. Unlike my siblings - they got pizza parties for not failing classes! but my damn near perfect marks were shrugged off. It was a lonely, confusing life, especially for a little kid.

My solace was in books. (Yep, I nerd.) If it was in print, I'd read it. That empty feeling inside me was soothed when I filled myself with words, stories, information, music. Yes, I taught myself how to read music, too, and how to build and play instruments. The early ones were crap, but I got better at it.

Anyways. I read everything, which led me to the 'occult/spiritual' section of the library and book stores. Right next to the fairy tales and legends, of course, so I read those too because why the heck not? It was ... it was educational. Upsetting. I wandered around the house and saw all the cold iron and silver on every window, every door. The weird herbs growing at every entrance. Keep in mind that I was TEN. Ten years old, trying to understand what was going on with my life, and suddenly figuring out that my parents were keeping something out. Of course, the next thing I did was check my clothes and, surprise surprise, everything had odd things sewn into the hems. Not only was something kept out, I was warded against being Taken.

So, I did what any angsty pre-adolescent would do, and plotted. Come hell or high water, I was going to find out what was going on. For the first time in my life, being ignored worked in my favor. Using the books and stories as a guide, I bought things, ingredients and materials, and worked quietly. Waiting for the night of the full moon.

I was as thorough as only an angry child could be. Opened doors, front and back. Walked around the house widdershins, sweeping away the protective ring of salt and runes. Did I mention I was naked? Yeah, I took a bath and washed myself with a bar of Ivory soap, getting rid of even the smallest trace of binding or charm. Since I didn't trust any of my clothes, or any in the house really, it made sense for me to go naked. To be sure.

The results were impressive. Also terrifying. Two powerful, ancient beings stormed into the house and dragged my parents out of bed, starting a three-way screaming match about contracts, oaths, stuff I didn't understand.

That was when I learned why I was conceived. It hurt, honestly. Learning that I was just a bargaining chip, chattel to be bartered or sold, broke my heart. They kept me warded to avoid issues, they said. They didn't know which being had the first claim on me, and neither one wanted to give up the wealth and beauty they bought with my life.

I was ten years old, and heartbroken, and oh so angry, and I interrupted with a suggestion. The witch and the faerie exchanged a look, before turning to my parents with the same smile on both their faces, one with extra teeth and mischief.

To this day, I have no idea what happened to them. I've lived with my dads for ten years now. Not full time anymore, university is a beeyotch and I live off campus, but every break, I go home.

My family is still kinda off, and different, but my dads love me. They're proud of me, they encourage me to be awesome, and we celebrate birthdays and holidays together. They keep saying that they have to make up for lost time, but knowing they were trying to find me, knowing they never gave up hope - well. They wanted a child to love, and i needed parents to love me. It all worked out in the end.

Your mother sold her firstborn to a witch in exchange for beauty and your father sold his firstborn to a fairy for wealth. Today you are born.

#writing prompt s #me and my scribbles #writing prompts #don't piss off the fae

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 1 day ago

Text

Forbidden Fruit.

That’s the thing about Declan - he always gets what he wants. It might be wrong… but it feels so right.

declan o’hara x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. use of the c word. age gap. cheating. declan’s filthy mouth needs its own warning.

word count - 2.3k

authors note - that man is a munch and I cannot be convinced otherwise. my crush on aidan turner has returned tenfold and i’m about to make it everyone’s problem. read declan’s dialogue in that gorgeous irish accent of his for the full experience.

masterlist. inbox.

You’ve fake laughed so much this afternoon that you can’t remember what your real one sounds like.

Finally breaking away from a conversation with Freddie’s wife, you swan across the garden in your sundress towards the food and drink table. You absentmindedly pick at the strawberries, hoping and praying that no one bothers you for a moment. All you need is a minute to yourself, away from all of these faux smiles and boastful exchanges.

Reaching towards a raspberry, you feel fingertips ghosting across your back quickly.

“Y’alright?”

You’d recognise that voice anywhere, of course, and not just because he’s the only Irish man in The Cotswolds.

“Bored out of my mind, actually.”

“You’d never know.”

“I’m a good actress, these days. I’ve done one too many of these stupid garden parties.”

He chuckles all genuine and honeyed, and you’d be lying if you said the sound didn’t settle warmly in your bones.

“Whatcha doing tonight?”

He’s keeping his voice low, inconspicuous. You’ve both turned so you’re looking out over the garden, backs to the table, watching the crowds of people and their gossiping. To anyone else, it looks like an innocent conversation between two acquaintances. They can’t see his hand playing with the hem of your dress behind you, or the way his fingers keep brushing the backs of your thighs, sending shivers down your spine.

“My boyfriend is coming over. You know that.”

“What time?”

You roll your eyes but answer anyway.

“Nine.”

“So what I’m hearing… is that you’re available from whenever this crap finishes until then?”

“That’s a stupid idea.”

“You usually love my stupid ideas.”

“Well maybe I’m trying to be smarter.”

He laughs with his full chest while you fight to keep the grin off your face, shaking your head.

“You’re already the smartest person here. Any smarter and we’re all doomed.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere, Declan.”

He pauses for a moment, pressing his side into yours and running his thumb across the soft skin of your thigh underneath your dress.

“I think we both know that’s not true, sweetheart.”

Your breath stutters as you will yourself to get it together, desperate to not repeatedly give in to his murmured promises and flirty remarks. It’s wrong. You know it is, both of you do, and yet…

“I want you gone by eight at the latest. I don’t need the two of you bumping into each other on my front step.”

He smirks like the cat that got the cream, looking down at you with lust drunk eyes.

“Good girl,” he whispers. “Promise to make it worth your while, yeah?”

“You always do,” you breathe out, so quietly that you’re surprised he hears.

He’s about to reply when you’re both startled by Rupert, striding over with the confidence of ten men and a bottle of champagne in his hand.

“Have they run out of glasses, CB?”

He slings an arm around your shoulder, laughing that rich man’s laugh right into your ear.

“Live a little, darling. Walk with me, will you? I have a story that might be worth your time, and I thought I’d bring it to my favourite journalist before anyone else.”

Rupert all but drags you across the garden, already chattering on about a scandal in the local constituency of the Conservative Party. You cast your eyes back to where Declan hasn’t moved, his gaze roving over your figure as you walk away.

He winks cheekily, dirty smirk slapped across his face.

You hate the way it sends electricity running through your veins in anticipation.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

It’s six forty five when there’s a knock on your door.

The devil himself is standing on your front step, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his broad chest.

“Hi darlin’.”

His accent is like molten honey, golden and warm and laced with sweetness. There’s mischief running through it though - as there always is.

“Come on,” you urge, grabbing his tie and pulling him inside, worried that one of your neighbours will see.

He laughs as he shuts the door behind him, unphased by your urgency.

“Thought you had a meeting. CB was telling me all about it earlier.”

“Rupert would tell you anything,” he chuckles. “He’s got a soft spot for pretty girls.”

“Sounds like someone else I know,” you giggle, undoing his tie from around his neck and hanging it on your coat rack.

“No. I have a soft spot for one pretty girl.”

“Sweet talker,” you tease as you roll your eyes, undoing the first few buttons on his shirt. “How about you put your money where your mouth is, hmm? We don’t have all night.”

He clicks his tongue, hands finding your hips to pull you against him.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he murmurs, leaning in so his lips brush yours. “Good things come to those who wait.”

“Less talking,” you scold, grabbing at his biceps to kiss him desperately.

Declan pushes you up against the wall, hips pressing into yours as he slips his tongue into your mouth. He tastes like cigarettes and whiskey and those mints he keeps in a tin in his back pocket. He scatters open mouthed kisses across your neck, licking across your skin and sucking the spot underneath your ear.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” he mumbles. “Ever since I saw you in this dress.”

“You like it?” you breathe, head rolling to the side to give him more access.

“I fucking love it.”

“Good. Bought it for you.”

He groans, grinding his hips into yours.

“You’re a minx,” he pants, biting at your shoulder. “You know exactly what you’re doing.”

With that, Declan wraps his arms around your middle, practically dragging you into the living room to throw you onto the sofa. He pulls your dress over your head, throwing it onto the floor with reckless abandon.

He instantly gets on his knees in front of you, spreading your legs with rough hands.

“Been waitin’ for this cunt all fuckin’ day.”

Your underwear is tugged down and discarded before you can blink, leaving you naked and high on the anticipation of it all. Your lungs are heaving, hands shaking as you will him to do something.

Declan sits back on his haunches, making a show of rolling up his sleeves. He looks so broad and commanding in his blue jeans with his shirt undone. He might be the one on his knees, but he’s definitely still in charge here.

You tangle your fingers into his dark hair and tug, pulling him closer.

“Please, Dec.”

“You sound so beautiful when ya beg.”

He grips your thighs tightly, ensuring they stay apart, as he leans in and presses kisses to any skin he can find.

“Don’t tease.”

“Or what, hmm? What are ya gonna do, sweetheart?”

“Stop it,” you chastise, head dropping back onto the cushions. “Please, baby.”

He chuckles before diving forwards, licking a stripe through your core. He wastes no time, tongue flicking over your clit like he’s done so many times before.

“Yeah,” you breathe out, fingers gripping his hair tightly. “Fuck, Declan.”

You’re convinced he enjoys this just as much as you do. He’ll eat you out for hours, never once expecting something in return - happy to feel you fall apart on his tongue again and again and again.

He knows exactly which spots will have you arching your back, how much pressure to use to have you writhing on the sofa cushions, where to put his hands to push you right over the edge. He can play you like a fiddle, observant and experienced.

His nose nudges your clit as he fucks you with his tongue, messy and wet and completely committed. The grip he has on your thighs is getting tighter and tighter, fingertips bruising your skin. You pray you’ll be able to see the marks when you look in the mirror tomorrow.

You’re teetering on the edge of your release, legs shaking and abdomen tightening. Declan can read you like a book, knowing exactly where you’re at - and taking advantage of it.

Just as you’re about to come, he pulls away and sits back, grinning like a deviant.

“No,” you’re panting. “The fuck are you doing?”

He laughs, leaning down to rest his head on your leg. He looks up at you with a gaze that’s half lust and half mischief, biting at his lip as he watches your chest heave.

“What do you want, darlin’?”

You pout at him, tears welling in your eyes.

“Come on, let me hear you say it. I want you to beg me to make you come. Tell me how you’ve been waiting for it all day, sweetheart.”

“I-Declan, I just-”

“Come on smart girl, use that big brain of yours. Why don’t you tell me all about how you think about me when you touch yourself? No - why don’t you tell me how you think about me while he fucks you?”

Your hips buck up into the air, desperate for any kind of friction. Declan laughs cruelly, wrapping his arms around your thighs again to pull you to the edge of the sofa, the strength he exerts only turning you on more.

“It’s okay,” he soothes against your core. “You don’t have to tell me. Your dripping wet cunt tells me everything I need to know, darlin.”

All you can do is moan, breathing like you’ve run a marathon. All you can see, all you can hear, all you can feel is Declan O’Hara.

“If we had the time, I’d edge you some more. Eat you out until you cried. You always look so pretty when you’re crying f’me.”

He finally takes pity on you, curling his tongue inside you as his nose repeatedly bumps against your clit. He’s practically making out with your core, saliva dripping down your thighs and onto the sofa. You can’t bring yourself to care about the mess, more focused on the older man’s mouth and the skills it possesses.

You’re whining, fingernails digging into his scalp as you grasp for something to hold onto. He’s groaning too, having just as much as fun as you are.

“Come for me, pretty girl. Show me how fucking beautiful you look.”

Your back bows off the sofa as you grind against his face, riding out your climax. Your thighs tighten around his head, desperate for him to keep going for as long as possible.

“That’s it. Atta girl. There we go.”

You’re trying to catch your breath as Declan stands up, sitting down next to you and pulling you into his side. His fingers draw patterns on your hips, absentmindedly calming you down as you nestle into him, seeking out his body heat.

You lean up and kiss him, slipping your tongue into his mouth eagerly. He tastes like you, and the realisation makes you whinge.

“Let me return the favour, please,” you whisper against his lips.

“As much as I’d love that, darlin’… we can’t.”

You quirk a brow at him in confusion, his rejection more than unusual.

“It’s twenty past eight.”

“Oh, shit,” you groan, finding your underwear and pulling them up your legs.

“I wish I could stay,” he reassures as he kisses you again sweetly. “You know I do.”

You nod, running your fingers through his sweat soaked locks to move them out of his face.

“Promise I’ll repay you next time.”

“I’ll hold ya to that.”

The phone ringing startles you both, your heart jumping in your chest. You pick it up quickly, wrapping the cord around your finger.

“Hello? How are you? Ah, good. Yes, fine. Alright, I’ll see you then. Yes, see you soon. Mhmm… I can’t wait either.”

You put it down just as quickly as you picked it up, finding your dress from the floor and pulling it over your head.

“That was Patrick. He’s at the train station, about to start the drive back here. He won’t be long.”

“I best get going then,” Declan says as he buttons up his shirt. “Don’t need a family reunion in your living room now, do we?”

You shake your head, scoffing at his attempt at a joke. Walking him to the front door, you press his tie from the coat rack into his hand so he doesn’t forget it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, won’t I? You’re coming for lunch at the house?”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” you say as you lean up to kiss him, sighing at the taste of his lips. “I’ll wear that lacy white lingerie under my dress just for you.”

“Great,” he groans. “Now I have to think about my son seeing that on you when it should be me.”

“You might,” you tease, smoothing out his shirt. “There’s a lot of rooms in that house, Declan.”

“You’re a minx.”

He kisses you once more, big hands cradling your face as he pulls you in.

“See ya tomorrow, sweetheart.”

“Yes, you will.”

You watch him go from your front step, making sure no one sees him leave. As soon as he’s out of sight, you’re shutting the door, trying to tidy the living room frantically. You open the windows, lighting a candle and picking up everything that was knocked to the floor in the lust filled frenzy. You’re covering your tracks as best you can, just like you’ve done countless times before.

You don’t need Patrick asking why the room smells like his dad’s aftershave.

You don’t need Patrick asking questions at all.

a little gift for you, as promised…

@do-it-for-kicks @whytheylosttheirminds @laverna-fanfictions @graceflorence

and of course, if you enjoyed this - throw me a little reblog if you so wish… help a girl out… <3

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lovieku · 1 day ago

Text

HANDS ON ME ⋆ 정국

𐙚 if you like what you see, baby put your hands on me.

it’s about to look like jeongguk’s birthday everyday with you.

based on this ask

from the grande series ୨ৎ

pairing: nerd!jk x popular!fem reader

genre: smut

ratings: 18+ / mdni

warnings: lower case intended, jk is inexperienced and sooo whipped, it’s his birthday!!! and he’s getting it hhhh, lowk dom!oc x sub!jk, size kink, tit play, dry humping, brief coochie play, cum eating omfg, blow job, cutest babies ever

word count: 3.9k

a/n: first thing i saw this morning was that ask, so of course i had to write this. like THANK U ANON that was such a good idea yes yes yes. hope u enjoy 🩷🩷

🏷️ perm taglist: @ceellliiinee @jaytheatiny @dolligguk @luvismenu @theyloveyams @stillwjk-channie-lixie @bookstoread199 @girlygguk @vieviela @myngiii @angelxkoo @nnybtitts08 @mpbrinkss @https-mei @lyywst @mhdelu @apobangpogirlyyy @khadeeeeej @awrkive @nooooooooonnneeeeeee @vantelover1306

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jeongguk didn’t wish for his birthday party to look like this.

the second he casually mentioned that his parents would be out of town on the very same day he would turn 21, his small friend group (consisting of the two nerdiest guys in college, probably even battling him for the top spot) took it on them to turn what he imagined would be a calm, quiet night spent with the comfort of jimin and taehyung in front of video games into a contending rival of a literal frat party. in his own house. when he never approved of it, nor asked for it.

there’s an inestimable amount of faces he has never seen before this moment, but they all seem to know him, congratulating him every time he comes in their vision. then, they go back to drinking, kissing, soft-fucking on his couch, and seemingly pumping up the volume of the music more and more with each blasting and ungraceful song.

that is probably why he’s struggling a bit more than he usually does with breathing. he’s a huge germaphobe, and having all these strangers barge into his space and lean on every possible surface with their greasy, alcohol stained hands has him close to hyperventilating.

he still hasn’t figured out how his two friends did it, but they managed to involve what looked like the whole uni into coming at jeongguk’s 21st birthday party like it was an unmissable event. it truly did seem like one, though, the birthday boy looking around in a confused awe and realizing this is all he’s ever missed from his teenage years. meh. not all that.

what really got him struggling to breathe is you. you, the most popular girl in college, talks about you on the mouths of all guys and girls in the hallways, loved yet envied by every single one of them, are here. and when you greeted him, you did so with a kiss for each of his cheeks. he stood there like he truly was going to let his lungs stop working, and you just smiled up at him through your long lashes and big eyes.

you’re not popular for the cliché reasons a girl in college might be. you’re not mean, you don’t square uncool people from head to toe with a judging look, you’re not known to be scary and unapproachable. the reason why you’re surrounded by a devoted swarm of bees is because you’re the literal definition of an angel.

an angel always ready to help anyone who seems like struggling, flash them with pearly whites, and be impossible to resist with bug, wide eyes conveying all your most honest emotions.

you’re known for genuine reasons. he’s never even heard many rumors about you, and if he did he assumed it was coming from way too envious people. the only thing he allowed himself to believe about your privacy, is that you’re very caring in bed.

he won’t admit it, feels disgusting for it, but he’s touched himself to that thought a couple of times. maybe more.

it doesn’t matter now, because you’re closer to him than you’ve ever been, and you sit in the overwhelming circle that has formed on the floor of his living room, people he has never even talked to proposing games and pushing drinks into his hand since he’s now 21.

unlike most people, that number doesn’t mean a lot to him. he’s not that thrilled about the knowledge that he can now get his hands on anything that was previously denied to him, alcohol and substances of those sorts. he never liked them, and he doesn’t think he will just because of this newfound freedom.

he’s now getting the full experience when someone, sharp-eyed and drunk on audacity, spots the wooden door to his dad’s wine cellar left slightly ajar and suggests seven minutes in heaven with the kind of enthusiasm jeongguk imagines newton felt when that apple hit his head.

on his right, jimin panics for jeongguk, “you’re not going to fuck in mr. jeon’s wine cellar.”

“who said anything about fucking?” dahye, a friend of yours, the complete opposite of you with a mean aura and sliced eyes, intervenes and has everyone laughing.

jimin rolls his eyes and plops down from where he straightened up on his knees, and jeongguk stays silent. he gave up fighting long ago, when the first drink spilled on his carpet.

he just gives a tight-lipped smile when his blonde friend tries an apologetic look, shaking his head and studying the room. jeongguk gulps when his eyes inevitably fall on yours, and he finds you already staring, an intensity he hasn’t seen often. when he’s sure he’s perfectly resembling a deer caught in headlights, you tilt your head amusedly, and he hastily focuses back down on his lap.

“well, since jimin is so afraid we’re gonna break his boyfriend’s stuff,” dahye continues, feeding off the childish chuckles coming from around her, and maybe also off jimin’s annoyed glare, “why don’t we let the birthday boy go first?”

at that, jeongguk’s head snaps up, his fluffy hair bouncing with the sudden movement, and he looks around wide eyed. he’s not sure what the game entails, he just knows something is supposed to happen, but he’s not sure exactly what the people hungrily gawking at him are expecting.

taehyung is about to add something when dahye interrupts once again, resting her hand on your lap beside her, “he can go with ___. i know that would make his day.”

sitting at her left, you’re the only one who doesn’t laugh at the sneaky implication; instead, you glare at your friend, who shrugs in response.

both jimin and taehyung fall in total silence, their eyes alarmingly looking at their friend in the middle. jeongguk seems a hundred times more panicked, but not because of the same reasons.

while his two best friends are simply excited at the prospect of jeongguk’s every dream coming true, eagerly expecting a positive answer from his mouth, jeongguk’s whole focus is on you, and your seemingly impassive face. his mind spins with haunting worries, giving at least twenty different interpretations to the way you’re looking at him, brows subtly twitching up.

he clumsily parts his lips to say something, but with absolutely no senseful thought swarming his brain, nothing comes out.

a beat of anticipated silence goes by before you gracefully stand up, all eyes following you, and even if quiet, your voice goes through the music, “let’s go, gguk.”

jeongguk loudly gulps, and he hopes the sound isn’t heard, but he doubts it since he’s receiving a scary amount of attention that goes over what he’s received his whole life.

if it wasn’t for the two guys at his sides pushing him to stand up, he would have stayed with his ass perched to the floor. instead, he stumbles and almost trips, meeting your eyes with awkward shame as you just softly smile at his gawkiness.

you don’t wait for him, daintily walking to the room victim of the game, pushing the door open and curiously peeking inside. jeongguk hastily jumps over the people sitting on the ground, still quietly observing the scene, and he’s at your side way faster than the time it took for him to even realize what was about to happen.

he exhales loudly at the proximity, standing behind you and basking in the height difference, your head barely reaching his chest, and he thinks he truly sees heaven when you turn around to look up at him, grinning delicately as you tilt your head back, “wanna go in?”

jeongguk is sure he has lost the capability to speak. no matter the sounds he tries to force up his throat, they’re not strong enough to fight their way out. he simply closes the door behind the two of you, and he’s glad when it significantly helps drown out the loud music and drunkish chatter.

he’s less glad for it when it means he’s officially left alone with you in a relatively cramped space, the silence almost more suffocating than the room and its strong smell. but he’s convinced you must be an angel when you don’t complain, not even slightly, your face the expression of composure.

he stands in the middle of the cellar while you explore it in a circle, letting your heels click on the parquet floor and your fingers carefully brush the wine bottles.

the simple action makes him feel hot, naughty mind conjuring up images of you tracing his skin with such care, and he releases a shaky breath before you can stop him, blurting his messy thoughts out, “we— we don’t have— have to do anyt—”

“sit on that stool, gguk.”

the command is anything but harsh, your voice a soft melody of calmness, but it still startles him. no, it shakes something in his chest, traveling all the way down to where he’s starting to feel a strong urge.

you point to a wooden stool in the corner of the room, which doesn’t look too high, but when he obediently goes to sit on it with his knees wobbling, you promptly place yourself in front of him and grin at the way he’s still almost at face level with you, his forehead reaching only a little under your chin.

his huge proportions compared to yours have always managed to make your head spin and thighs squeeze together whenever you managed to sit next to him in the few lectures you shared, lashes fluttering seductively to have him fix nonexistent bugs on your computer just to see his wide hand close to yours on the keyboard.

now, with his puppy eyes staring up at you expectantly, his drawn up brows only emphasizing his yearning, you need to steady yourself with hands on his shoulder to hold back from quite literally grinding on him. you whisper, “good.”

his orbs shake impossibly more, and from the corner of your eye you see his fingers fidgeting in his lap, fighting a delirious need. his legs are spread just enough for you to be standing right in the middle of them, but you push yourself further into him, his chin lifting up even higher to never be forced to look away from your firm gaze, hanging from your lips when you voice an apology, “i didn’t bring a gift, ggukkie.”

jeongguk is almost panting, the endearing nicknames only adding to the warmth of your sweet body, your vanilla scent clouding his senses and gouging the truth out of him, “th—that’s okay, ___. i—i’m very happy you’re here.”

you smile, but it’s one he’s never seen on you. it’s not one of those you flash when you’re grateful, understanding, or even amused. it’s mischievous, almost belittling. “are you saying i’m your gift?”

his eyes widen, and he’s ashamed of the way your accusative tone causes him to throb in his jeans, and in his speech too, “huh— oh my god. i’m so sorry. that must sound so—”

you chuckle, stroking his broad back with your hands sliding across his width, “hey, slow down. it sounds so very cute coming from your lips.”

jeongguk appreciates your efforts at trying to put him at ease, truly. but your soothing touch and words only have him in a state of alert, even more when your fingers travel up his nape and find home in his locks. you’re impossibly close now, and he feels your voice resounding within him, “but i’m still not satisfied. i wanna give you more, make you forgive me.”

your whisper fans over his lips, and he unconsciously parts them for you, his eyes hooded by the second and glassed over with desperate want. you smirk.

stepping back enough for his neck to rest at a comfortable angle, he whimpers deliciously at the loss of your touch, but you shut him up just as quickly when your dress is off you and on the wooden floor in a swift motion.

jeongguk is definitely panting now, breathing manually and focusing too much on having his heart pump oxygen for him rather than the view of your exposed body in front of him.

he gradually realizes he could care less about dying right now if it means the last thing he’s going to be faced with is your nipples hardening with the cool, and hopefully something else, and your lacy white panties barely covering your core.

jeongguk stares like a starved man being met with his first meal after weeks of seeking, his hands trembling on his thighs and squeezing into suppressing fists.

his gasp turns into an awfully high-pitched moan when you hook a finger under the hem of your lingerie, sliding it daintily down your legs and walking out of it, never breaking eye contact with him. only thing you’re left with are your high heeled boots.

the next thing you do has the organs that keep all his vital functions going completely stop working, his heart missing more than ten beats and catching up with an alarmingly fast speed, causing his voice to shake, “___, wh—what are you—”

swinging one of your legs, you sit on him with your ingloriously stained panties pressing right on his crotch, hands placed back on the base of his neck, basking in the way you can feel his rapid beating under your fingers.

you lean into his ear, “if you like what you see, you can put your hands on me, baby.”

jeongguk throws his head back for air, his chest heaving with trembling exhales before he finds your eyes again, and in the fraction of second he needed to look elsewhere if he didn’t want to bust in his tight pants already, you’re a whole different person.

your eyes are sliced, pupils blown and hooded, and your parted lips stretch just enough to paint a wicked smirk over your face, its effects flooding right down his stomach and making you feel his hardness through the material.

his hands dance a panicked rhythm hovering over your sides, not sure what to do, not deeming himself deserving of feeling your skin under his touch. but you take it upon yourself to guide them, pressing his palms against your hips and letting them ride up your exposed breasts.

he whimpers, fingertips unconsciously testing the sense of the soft curve of your boobs with a subtle press, but it’s not enough. you can’t feel him.

with your hands still on his, you arch yourself further into his touch and have his thumbs slice over your sensitive nubs, letting out a moan of your own that goes over his low groan. you lick your lips and struggle to find your breath and words too, but you whisper them through an already too fucked out smile, “see? you can touch me, just like that.”

the go-ahead is all he needs for him to dive his head right into your chest, his tongue catching your nipple in an unpracticed hunger, messily sucking on it and quickly leaving your skin soaked with spit. he works clumsily with his hand on your other tit, movements uncoordinated and unsure.

but the fact that he seems to not care about his inexperience, willing to learn right at this moment all it takes for you to keep whimpering and trembling when he touches, has your usually composed senses lost in a haze of desire, the need to give your all to the nerdy boy that is finally being properly touched just as he turns 21 clouding your senses and pushing you to unconsciously buck your hips against his.

he moans with his mouth full of you, his free hand gripping your thigh, and he tries to stop it but he can’t help the way he meets your grinding, snapping up as if he lost all sort of control over his body. he quite literally wails in desperation, “fuck— don’t— don’t do that. i’m gonna— oh, god.”

“you’re gonna cum?” you sound just as crazed, hips rutting at a faster speed on him, the slickness smearing all over his jeans and leaving a wet patch right where his dick stays confined.

“no! i— i mean, just give me a second, shit. i swear, i—”

“ggukkie, this is about you. i’ll make you cum, hm? how’s that sound?” the sweet sound of your promise has him seeing stars, eyes squeezing shut as he feels himself getting close to a point he doesn’t think he’s ever reached before.

until he’s back to zero.

you lift your hips off his, helping your weight up by placing your hands on his broad shoulders, and you sport a devilish smile when he opens his eyes again, protest ready on his tongue. his brows are furrowed and there’s tears ready to spill out from his eyelids, but you don’t let them.

the huge palm that was still fondling your breast is now being led by you further down, until it disappears between you. you have him cup your wet core, the intensity of the moment only heightened by your gaze never leaving his, “touch me.”

when panic flashes over his expression once again, you instruct him through it just how you did minutes before, and he quickly gets the hang of it. you always appreciated him being a fast learner, but you couldn’t imagine that it would come handy in a scenario like this one.

you hum when his ring and middle finger trace your slit, only to come up to try and find your clit in a surprisingly good attempt, “good, get all of it. make your hand wet.”

the moment squelching sounds reach your ears, you leave your seat from his lap and stand on your heels again. he whines, unknowingly reaching for you, but you halt his hand and redirect it on the zipper of his jeans. you tilt your chin, “take them off.”

he’s quicker than he was at the beginning of his seven minutes in heaven now, freeing himself from the tight pants, boxers going along with it, and his cock springs free deliciously, standing tall and proud against his tummy.

you groan, almost already falling to your knees like you are planning to do soon. it’s an adjective you don’t think you’ve ever used on any of the guys you’ve been with, but jeongguk’s cock is pretty. its pink tip matches his lips, swollen from the harsh biting, and it doesn’t look rough. it has just the perfect length, girth, and when it twitches under your awe, you see it bend subtly to the right.

you smile, meeting his face again, delirious need written all over it, “stroke your cock with the hand you touched me with,” the second the order is out your lips, he’s already working himself. you can see him trying to go at a merciful speed, his grip loose, and it makes you grin amusedly, “mh, aren’t you so obedient. let me have a taste, gguk.”

you clearly have noticed that he’s not as quick on his feet as he usually is, brain clouded, so you once again take it upon yourself to lead his hand, this time introducing two of his fingers in your warm mouth. you hum loudly around the thick digits, eyes rolling back, and you speak around them, “fuck, you wanna try that?”

you don’t wait for him to reply, knowing it would get him minutes that you sadly don’t have to formulate a senseful answer, and you simply feed him his own fingers, carefully watching the way he lets his cheek hollow around them. you chuckle feverishly, “we taste so good together, don’t we?”

he nods eagerly, eyes glassy with more tears, and you think you can see one drop at the side of his face just as you fall to your knees in front of his seated body, your pretty figure even smaller from his view, and he’s graced with your bug eyes staring up at him through long lashes.

you don’t waste any more time, knowing there’s not much left in the heaven you’ve created for your own, and you wrap your ravenous mouth around him, showing none of the previous mercy in your speed.

he lets his mouth hang open, moans uncontrollably loud, and he needs to grab the sides of his stool to get the illusion of some sort of power still left within him. he closes his eyes in bliss, but quickly snaps them open when he realizes what he’s missing.

you’re bobbing your head up and down his length, and you still manage to maintain that dainty elegance that characterizes you, slim fingers gripping around the base and making up for the spots you can’t reach. he pants on the verge of a heart attack, pitch high as he begs, “fuck. look— look up at me, please.”

you do, aligning yourself better to meet his frenzied state, eyes communicating all the words you can’t say, too engaged in having him unravel all over your lips. he groans at the eye contact, thinking back to all the times he’s seen this exact scene flash behind his closed eyelids, and he’s a fool for even believing his mere imagination could compare.

it will never be enough, never again. not after this. not after knowing what you look like as you devote yourself to him, precise movements getting him closer, the way your tongue flickers out to reach down further and how you let his tip meet the back of your throat finally causing him to snap his hips up involuntarily, and before he can say something to warn you, he’s painting your warm mouth with his cum.

ropes of white, hot liquid spill out from you, but you promptly collect all of it, making sure not a single drop is missed, gulping it down with eager want. you wordlessly smile up at him, infatuated with the way his chest heaves and his lips part, trying to regain some composure.

he thinks he will need hours to fully recover. and he’s not even sure he wants this moment to end, blurting his predominant thought out before he knows it, “i wanna make you feel good, too.”

you chuckle as you get up, quickly soothing your knees before collecting your panties from the ground and walking back inside them, “it’s okay, baby. this was my birthday gift for you, hm? besides, we don’t have much time left before the others come in.”

“but…”

jeongguk helplessly watches as you get dressed, cringing at the stickiness of your wet core but nonetheless slipping your flowy dress back on. he just had the best orgasm of his life from the girl he firmly believes to be the love of his life, and he doesn’t get to give it back. oh, he feels like an absolute asshole.

you seem to read it all simply by scanning his face fondly, words soft, “that doesn’t mean you won’t get to do that, you cute boy. you will, and soon.”

when you’re done fixing the creases over your clothes, you walk to him and help him back in his jeans. tucking his softening length in, you lift up the zip of his pants and you’re glad for the way the patch of your wetness seems to have dried.

standing between his spread legs, you brush a hand through his hair, tenderly watching the way his curls fall and tickle his forehead. you smile and whisper quietly, “i got your number from dahye. i’ll text you, okay?”

he gulps, nodding hastily at your rhetorical question and feeling the blush creep up his neck. god, he must look like a total fool, “o—okay…”

humming lowly, you press your lips to his cheek, then to the tip of his nose, “you’re so pretty, you know that? don’t be sad.” next, your mouth rests on his, molding in a kiss that has his eyes shooting wide, and that ends way before he can even realize what’s happening. you chuckle at his expression, and you can’t resist another peck before promising, “happy birthday, gguk.”

378 notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 1 day ago

Note

Hi Mae!! Congrats on 8k babe, it’s so so well deserved! If this inspires you could I request gift wrap and ‘mulled wine’ for Sirius??

Hi lovely Fawn, thanks so much <3

cw: alcohol

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 513 words

Sirius finds you curled up in a corner of the couch, nibbling on a thin slice of orange. You look rather content to be doing so, but he can never stand to see anyone sitting alone at a party, least of all you. You’ve uncovered soft spots Sirius didn’t know he had before he met you.

“You’re making quick work of that,” he says, nodding to your full glass as he sits.

You look down at it, a small frown denting the sweet bit of skin between your brows, not realizing Sirius’ teasing until he grins at you.

“Careful, don’t want to get too sauced too fast.”

“Mary brought it for me,” you say, almost as if in apology, “but I don’t really care for wine. It’s nice that it has these little oranges in it, though.”

“You might find some raisins, too,” Sirius says smoothly. He ought to know, he’d fought James on it tooth and nail, but for some reason his friend was very attached to the inclusion of the raisins. Sirius has been paying extra attention to the bartender at the restaurant where he works, thinking about going for a job like that and brushing up on his mixology skills in the meantime, and James is of course taking full advantage of this new interest. Sirius keeps getting stuck on food and drinks at parties that aren’t even his.

All well worth it, though, if it means a chance at impressing you. You and Sirius have only been on a few dates—not enough that he’d have brought you here tonight if you weren’t already friends with the girls—and he finds himself bending over backwards more than he’s used to in hopes of coaxing a smile or a laugh out of you.

“It’s mulled wine,” he explains, hoping not to sound too pretentious about it (the way Remus gets after him, you’d think Sirius couldn’t help it half the time). “You might like it better than regular wine; it’s sweeter.”

You look into your glass with new consideration, lifting your eyebrows minutely at him as you pick it up. This is the sort of look Sirius chooses to interpret as flirtation from you, though it may only be wishful thinking. You give the class a tiny swirl before bringing it to your lips.

You don’t make a face or anything, only set it back down on your coaster and take another bite of your orange. “I think I might just stick with this,” you say gently.

Sirius smiles in the face of defeat (it’s never looked so spectacularly beautiful). He makes a mental note not to do any more wine-based drinks for these parties.

“Fair enough,” he says, fishing in his own glass for his orange. “Here, I’ll trade you.”

Your lips tilt up as you accept it. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Sirius smiles back at you, feeling his go lopsided. “Course. I can make you something else to drink, too, if you like.”

Your eyes light with intrigue. “What can you make?”

Sirius might just have a chance to impress you yet.

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sturnsrecord · 3 days ago

Text

CLIMB THROUGH MY WINDOW

PART TWO — [fuckboy!chris x smart!reader. alcohol, drugs, dj on the vj, fingering, eating pussy]. you find yourself gravitated towards chris at a party, letting up more than you thought you would.

ʚ part one ɞ — ʚ part three ɞ

despite your studious lifestyle, and somewhat good decision making as a teenager, you didn't always turn down a party. if you had done all your work for the week, and had found a good lie to tell your parents, then you’d show up.

after that night in your room with chris he hadn't really spoken to you, other than in class or around school. you hated to admit it, but it bothered you. a lot.

it had been a week since then and you’d already seen him chatting to other girls by their lockers, leaning on them like some idiot as he chatted them up.

you didn't let that bother you. you knew chris, and what he was like. he was a fuck boy, of course he was gonna do exactly that and fuck other girls. deep down you wished you had the sexual confidence to sleep with other guys, maybe make chris feel shit. although a part of you knew he wouldn't even care.

you also knew that not having sex with him was bound to push him away, but you weren’t stupid enough to just sleep with him to keep him close. if he didn’t want what you was giving him then he could fuck off. which is what he would do.

this was your first time at a boys party though. you thought there'd be no difference, it was the same clump of teenagers in their school that showed up to all the parties. but apparently, not having a girl as the host meant there were a lot more rouge plus ones and a lot less organisation.

the house was poorly lit, only adding to everyone's intoxication, as well as the mixed smell of bo and alcohol.

you walked through the crowd, clinging onto your best friend's hand in the hopes that you wouldn't be separated. the both of you thought that making a beeline for the garden was the best idea, but the second you got out there it was just as busy.

“who the fuck are all these people?” you mutter to bella. “no idea.” she huffed, looking around to observe all the new faces.

as you make your way through the garden, you spot chris. he’s sat on an outdoor sofa, surrounded by other rowdy boys and some girls who were very obviously flirting with him and his friends. you tug at bella's arm, motioning towards chris.

“no, i don't wanna go over there.” bella huffs, raising an eyebrow. “c’mon. it's just chris, you know he's nice. besides, he's my friend.” you say, slightly desperate to go over there.

“friend?” she questions, giving you a certain look. “you guys are fucking.” she mumbles under her breath. you scoff at her words. “i'm literally a virgin.” you retort, as if that changed anything.

“you're still doing stuff with him.” bella mumbles back, trying to tease you. “okay whatever, i'll meet up with you in a bit.” you say, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “kay love ya.” she hums back before you separate ways.

you walk over to chris, noticing the half rolled joint in his hand. as soon as you’re close, he immediately looks up, a bright smile on his face. “didn't expect to see you here.” he says, returning his gaze to the joint as he delicately compacts the tobacco and weed into a cone.

“why not?” you remark, taking a sip of your drink, the already decided first and last of the night. he shrugs, licking the paper. “dunno, hardly see ya at parties.” he responds, folding over the paper meticulously before looking up at you. “thought you'd have too much work to do.” he remarks.

you raise your eyebrows at his comment. “well i don't.” you say with a smug smile. “hmm, that's a first.” he mumbles, the joint hanging from his lips, making his words even less clear.

“shut up.” you roll your eyes, frowning slightly. he smirks to himself, leaning forward to get a lighter off the table.

you hesitate slightly, going to sit on the armrest of the sofa. he takes note as he leans back, “you can sit y’know.” he says, bringing the lighter up to the end of his zoot. you sit down, fixing your skirt slightly to be composed on the small surface.

he wastes no time wrapping his arm behind you, his hand gripping onto your hip. you’re a little shocked at the tame yet out in the open pda, but watching chris relax as he inhales the weed makes you realise that it was very possible that he'd done other shit tonight too.

“you want some?” he asks, smoke tumbling out of his mouth as he speaks. you look down at the joint being offered to you, hesitating for a second.

“you can say no, m’not forcing-” you interrupt, pinching it from his hand as you take a toke. he smirks, watching as you smokes. he won't deny, you looked very attractive.

you hand it back, appreciating the burn to the back of your throat at the strength. “good?” he questions your reaction.

“better than any other weed i've smoked.” you answer honestly, taking a sip of your drink, hoping it would soothe your throat, despite the fact it was a vodka-coke.

“that's cos i’ve got good shit.” he says, his face scrunching as he inhales whilst talking. a couple of his friends leave, creating an open space next to chris. he taps the side of your thigh, motioning you to move to sit next to him.

you stand promptly, walking past his spread legs to sit next to him.

“what you drinkin then?” he asks curiously, a little smile on his face like he's teasing you for drinking. “guess.” you respond, holding it out for him to try. he sighs, reluctantly grabbing the cup from your grasp to give into your little game.

he takes a sip, grimacing slightly. “you drink vodka-coke?” he questions, the judgement clear in his voice as he hands the solo cup back. “it's better than doing coke.” you mumble, a stupid jokey remark you were almost embarrassed to say out loud.

he gives you a look, a slightly amused smile on his face. “that was a poor joke.” he tells you, despite the grin on his face. “well, it's true.” you say sharply, giving him a look of disappointment.

he shakes his head with a smile before taking a toke. “since when d’you care bout the drugs i do?” he asks casually, a small frown on his face, contrasting his slight smile.

you could tell he was a little offended, and that he actually didn't like the joke you’d made. you shrug. “i wouldn't say i care, s’just not good for you.”

“hmm.” he nods a little, which was him nicely telling you to fuck off. “so like, you wouldn't let m’do a line off you?” he mumbles, looking over at you with an intense gaze as he takes another puff.

you almost choke on your drink, your eyes wide as he asks. “uh.” you cough a little, composing yourself slightly. “what d’you mean a line- like where on me?” you question, now a little curious at the proposition.

he grins at your response, shrugging. “dunno, between your tits or somethin.” he says casually.

“and how many girls have you done that with?” you question, calling him out a bit.

“between the tits?” he repeats, thinking for a second. “none.” you roll your eyes at the obvious insinuation that he'd done lines off other parts of girls bodies.

“want anymore?” he offers, his eyes now a little more red and sleepy. you take it from him, relaxing back on the couch as you inhale.

“so, s’that a no on the line?” he murmurs, clearly high as a kite as he looks over at you with a lazy smile, subtly holding out a baggie with white powder.

you look over at him in slight disappointment, snatching the baggie from between his fingers as you shove it into his coat pocket. “don't just pull that out.” you panic slightly, not loving how carefree he was sometimes.

he looks around, clicking his tongue against his teeth. “no one here gives a shit.” he grumbles, frowning a little before his gaze meets yours again, his eyes silently asking.

“you actually want to?” you question, not really understanding the point. you take a toke of the zoot after speaking, stubbing the end out into the ashtray on the table.

he shrugs with a small smirk. “why not?” he questions, like he's daring you to do so. you sigh, questioning your own judgement as you actually consider it.

he senses your hesitation, leaning forward a bit as his elbows rest on his knees. “doesn’t have t’be between your tits.” he mumbles, his eyes roaming over your body like he was looking for another spot. “could do it off your thigh.” he suggests, his voice almost hoarse as he speaks, making it very apparent that he himself liked that idea.

you definitely preferred that idea, it seemed like less of a hassle. maybe it was the mixture of the alcohol and the weed, clouding your judgement, but you were down to do that. “m’kay.” you mumble, giving in. it's not like you yourself were gonna do a line.

he nods a little, almost proud of you for saying yes and venturing out a bit. then he stands, offering his hand to you before he leads you through the house, your delicate hand gripping onto his more rough one as you tag along behind him.

he took you to an upstairs bathroom, letting you shut and lock the door behind you. you turn and he's already got the baggie out, holding it open. “shut the lid, n’sit.” he tells you, motioning towards the toilet.

you do as told, mindlessly chucking your bag onto the floor before you take a seat on the closed toilet lid, the plastic cold against your upper thighs.

“this is so stupid.” you mumble, feeling a little nervous. “and pointless.” you add, watching as he sorts out his shit.

“nah, it's hot.” he corrects, walking over to you before he gets on his knees in front of you. he holds his id card against your thigh, almost creating a barrier before he sprinkles a small line over your skin.

you watch intensely, feeling your heart rate spike at the sheer adrenaline of the situation.

“don't move.” he tells you, using the edge of the card to straighten out the line a little. you take in a small breath, trying your hardest to remain completely still.

he puts the baggie and his card away, looking up to see your slightly nervous expression. “you good?” he asks, his hand coming to gently rub your other thigh. you nod a little. “can you just do it, i'm scared i'm gonna flinch or move or something.” you say quickly, clearly quite stressed about the prospect of spilling the expensive substance on your thigh.

he chuckles slightly at your panic, more calm as he trusted that you wouldn't move. but he complies, reaching into his back pocket for a dollar bill.

he rolls it into a tube before leaning over slightly as he brings it to one nostril, pressing the other with his finger. you feel the dollar bill touch you slightly, before he runs it along the line, snorting the coke.

he's quick to tip his head back, his face scrunching as he sniffs, making sure it's all in.

your grip on the side of the toilet seat loosens slightly, as the muscles in your thigh relax. you look over at him as he puts the bill away, sniffling a little as it passes. then your gaze shifts to the tiny trace of the substance on your thigh, a miniscule amount left.

he pops his thumb into his mouth before collecting the remainder on your skin. “you want it?” he offers, although he's not expecting you to say yes. you shake your head. “how are you meant to snort that?” you question.

he smirks before sucking it off his thumb and then wiping it clean on his jeans. “like that.” he says, watching as you look at him curiously. “huh.” you mumble.

“s’not a lot, won't do much.” he shrugs, before looking back up at you.

neither of you move as his gaze shifts over your body, specifically at your exposed thighs and short denim skirt.

the coke was obviously getting to him as his gaze became fixed and concentrated, whereas your mind was spinning slightly. you were minorly cross faded, making you more brave than usual, as demonstrated by that little performance you just took part in.

“what kinda underwear d’ya wear.” he mumbles, his eyes not leaving your thighs. you smile at his question, finding amusement and confidence in the fact that he thought about that kinda stuff.

instead of answering you begin to part your legs, revealing your black lacy underwear, the material only partially see through.

his mind blanks at your action, his mouth filling with saliva as he admires the view and boldness. “you wear lacy shit?” he questions, his voice hoarse and lustful. “only when i dress up.” you respond with a smile, looking down at his reaction.

“looks fuckin sexy.” he mumbles, moving his hand forward to lightly brush his fingers over the fabric, feeling the slight dampness.

his head falls against your thigh at the feeling of how wet you are, his other hand gripping your calf. “fuck.” he groans, keeping his fingers there.

he looks up at you eventually, his eyes heavy. “d’you have any idea how wet y’are?” he mumbles. you nod with a small smile, basking in how much it was sending him over the edge.

he refrains from moaning again, instead returning his attention back to the heat between your legs. you gently play with his hair as you watch his fixation. “can i?” he murmurs.

you don’t even know what he's asking, but you’re quick to respond. “yeah.” you whisper, catching your bottom lip between your teeth.

he pushes the bottom of your skirt up, watching as it bunches at your hips. then he hooks his fingers into your underwear, tugging it down your legs. you lift your hips up, helping him, and that's all the confirmation he needs to know you’re more than ok with this.

he separates your legs, admiring your naked form. “fuck-” he whispers, reaching out to touch you, sliding his fingers through your folds. you slouch back, looking down at the movement of his hands. you keep an eye on where his hands are going, almost waiting for him to do something.

his middle finger moves lower, gently prodding at your entrance. you flinch slightly at the new feeling.

“you still not into me fingerin you?” he questions, fixated on the way the tip of his finger slipped in slightly. “you can.” you breathe out, suddenly desperate to feel him. maybe it was your intoxication talking, but either way you knew you wanted chris, you just struggled to rationalise and vocalise it to him.

“you sure?” he asks, tilting his head up to look at you. you nod eagerly, opening your legs a little wider to give him access.

he wastes no time slowing pushing his finger in before gently twisting his wrist to get the right angle. you bask in the new sensation, never having had anything up there. then he speeds up quickly, curling his finger up into your g-spot.

“oh fuck-” you gasp, your body tensing slightly at the intense pleasure. he concentrates on the rhythm of his arm, making sure to hit the spot inside you perfectly.

“can't lie, i really wanna go down on you.” he murmurs breathlessly, clearly overcome with lust in the moment.

“what..?” you mumble out, returning to reality for a second as you focus your eyes on his face, and the desperate expression on it.

“y’know, when you give a girl head-.” he explains with a sly grin. you shake your head quickly. “fuck off.” you scowl at his sarcasm. “i mean like, right here?” you raise your eyebrows as you question.

he looks over your body, your legs spread for him, exposing yourself at almost eye level. “well, i mean…” he raises an eyebrow, making a point about the position you were in right now.

you think for a second, looking over the situation. he senses the hesitation, bringing his hand to gently rub your thigh. “it’ll feel real good. promise.” he tells you, venturing closer.

your heart rate picks up as he brings his face closer to your heat, a peak in anxiety and insecurity as no ones been that close to you like that before. but all that vanishes as his tongue presses over your sensitive clit, making your body jerk in pleasure.

“mghh..” you groan, threading your fingers through his hair. he gets the message, immediately going all in, circling his tongue over your clit expertly, his hand still gripping your thigh.

“you're really good at that.” you croak out, your mouth momentarily falling open at the feeling. he smirks against you, concentrating on the task at hand as he soaks in the praise.

after a few minutes of the delicate touch of his tongue, he shifts so that he can hold both your thighs, pulling you closer to his face. for comfort you end up mindlessly resting your legs over his shoulders as he goes in further, sucking and nipping at your clit.

it makes your back arch, chris holding down your hips with his hands. “fuck-” you moan, your voice cut off by a gasp as he gently slips a finger in.

you sit up a little, looking down at him with an already fucked out expression. “wait- i’m gonna cum if you do that.” he removes his mouth, looking up at you curiously, “is that not the point?” he taunts, his finger slowly moving in and out of you.

“yeah, but i'll be too loud.” you whimper, reminding the both of you where you were, anyone could be outside that door waiting for the toilet.

his smirk only widens at your admission, “be quiet then.” he ushers before his lips connect with your clit again. he leaves you with no time to dispute before gasps and whines are tumbling out of your mouth again.

he's quick to match the pace of his finger with the movement of his tongue, applying more pressure to your sensitive nerve as his finger hits your g-spot repeatedly.

you grip onto his hand that's still on your thigh, holding tightly as you try to make less noise.

from the constant simultaneous stimulation you feel, waves of pleasure coarse through your body, digging your nails into his skin as your orgasm builds up.

“gonna come.” you squeak, trying your best to stay silent. you resolve to covering your mouth with your hand, poorly muffling your moans as your high hits. he looks up at you from his position between your legs, not wanting to miss the sight of you coming undone from his touch.

your hips desperately grind forward onto chris's mouth as you come, his movements slowing to a reasonable pace. he removes his mouth, watching his finger pump in and out slowly as your body shakes and you come down from your orgasm, eventually pulling his finger out.

once you've calmed down, he gently removes your legs from his shoulders, planting your feet on the floor.

“holy fuck.” you breathe out, almost in shock from how good that felt. he basks in your orgasmic haze, loving how good he made you feel. “you taste really good.” he comments, sucking your slick off his middle finger.

“don't do that- that's disgusting.” you mutter, frowning judgmentally.

“what?” he chuckles, amused by your reaction. “i just had m’tongue on your pussy.” he points out. you grimace a little, despite the truth of it. “don't say it like that.” you mumble, shaking your head slightly with the same disgusted look on your face.

he rolls his eyes playfully as he stands up, “you're ridiculous.” he tells you before he goes to wash his hands.

you sit up, your legs a little shaky as you pick your underwear off the floor, stepping into them. you stand, pulling them up before fixing your skirt.

“you good?” he asks, leaning against the counter as you sort your stuff. before you can answer there's a bang on the door followed by a loud voice telling you to hurry up.

your eyes go wide, and you want nothing more than to curl up into a ball and hide. “chris, i can't go out there.” you whisper, picking your bag off the floor.

“s’fine.” he says, like that's supposed to just reassure you completely. he saunters to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open almost theatrically.

chris daps the guy up, and from the friendly interaction you can tell it's one of his friends.

“you guys hookin up?” he asks, looking between the both of you with a grin, his gaze remaining on your legs for far too long.

“nah, just doin the usual.” chris says, subtly wiping his nose as he speaks. the guy's eyebrows raise before he looks over at you again. “you do coke?” he questions, clearly surprised.

you go to respond, your words getting caught in your throat. but it doesn't matter because chris is already talking. “she did a bump, wanted to try it.” chris says, leaning closer to the guy as he speaks.

then chris's arm wraps around your waist, pulling you further away from the bathroom. “see ya around.” chris says to the guy, before pushing you so that you were now walking in front of him, a part of you thinking he did it to block the view of your ass from his friend.

“you okay?” he asks you, walking behind you as you descend the stairs with slightly shaky legs. “fuck off.” you tell him, trying to act like he hadn't just made your legs complete jelly.

he chuckles a little at your attitude, holding his hands up in surrender. “m’just asking.” he mumbles, a grin on his face.

you both reach the bottom of the stairs and you turn to look at him. “well i'm fine.” you hum before looking down at your unstable legs. “my legs are just a bit shaky.” you mumble under your breath.

his eyebrows raise a little, his own cockiness taking over. “oh really, why's that?” he asks, leaning on the bannister with a sly knowing smirk.

you roll your eyes, not wanting to feed into his ego further, although to be fair that may have been the best orgasm of your life.

“why'd you always ruin it?” you huff, moving to stand in front of him, his arm still over the bannister. “m’not ruining nothin.” he mumbles, pressing his lips together as he pulls you in by your hip.

your bodies are flush, and you can feel his steady heartbeat against your own chest, a contrast to yours. you look around at the crowds of people, some in conversation, others walking past the both of you to go upstairs. “you sure you wanna be seen like this with me?” you question, taking note of the increased pda when he's coked.

he pouts, a soft frown forming on his face. “what's that meant to mean?” he mumbles, although he knows exactly what you mean.

“we just look very couply right now.” you point out, looking at the lack of space between your bodies. he shrugs like it's nothing, but you know it is.

“so, we're just two people havin fun at a party.” he says, his other hand coming up to brush a strand of hair out of your face, tentatively tucking it behind your ear. “just cos we look couply, dont mean we are.” he adds.

“m’kay.” you mumble, just accepting his silly answer. “what?” he questions, frowning down at your change in expression.

“nothing.” you say, spreading a smile across your face to reassure him. “s’not nothin, what’d i say?” he asks, his hand now playing with the ends of your hair although his gaze is focussed on your eyes, following their every move.

you sigh, unsure of what to even say. “it's just-” you're cut off by him kissing you, his hands gripping your face to hold you in place. the kiss is hot, but softer than usual. his tongue isn't licking across your lip like usual, instead it's just the soft plush of his own lips. the intensity is there, it's just not in the action, rather in the emotion. which scares you a little.

he pulls away, pressing a soft peck to your lips. “stop thinkin so much.” he tells you with a small smile, rubbing his hand over your cheek.

you look up, into his eyes, aware of how adoring your gaze must be right now. “sorry.” you mumble out, drawing your eyes away from his.

“you're good.” he says shortly, before he kisses her head. you feel cold as soon as he's no longer touching you.

“i'm gonna go find bella.” you tell him, taking a little step away trying to keep it casual after that interaction. he nods, looking around a little. “i'll see you later then?” he says. you nod before parting ways.

you watch him walk away, letting out a breath you were unknowingly holding. fuck.

©sturnsrecord

notes . reupload from my previous account @/plan8sturn, I will be continuing the series here

#sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturiolo fanfic #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #chris sturniolo #★sturnsrecord #★ctmw

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kpopflowerfield · 2 days ago

Text

Gimmie Love | jjk

ღ pairing: playboy! jungkook x desperate! fem reader

ღ word count: 5.7k

ღ genre: angst & smut

ღ rating: nsfw, mdni

ღ warnings: toxic relationship, pet names(babe,baby), dirty sex, dom! jk, needy sex, a bit of voyerism is involved (jk tries to finger reader in movie theater), unprotected sex! (wrap up), Jungkook calls reader ‘slut’ once, fingering, throat fucking, jk is sadistic and loves being a tease

ღ networks: @k-vanity @k-library

ღ summary: ex situationship comes back into your life and you can’t help but find yourself back in your old habits of begging to be loved for the right reasons

ღ author’s note: ty to @tusswrites for beta reading!!

↠ check out the rest of the tracklist here! ↞

You looked around, absentmindedly listening to your friends. "Ooh, he's hot," Your friend Mina cooed as she stared out. You looked over at the man she was drooling over. He was attractive, about six feet, with milky skin and chestnut hair. She didn't know his name, but it didn't matter as she wasn't interested in names. "What about him?" Kyujin nodded her head in the direction of someone. Tan skin, about the same height as the other one, and had beautiful black waves. You shrugged a bit; they were attractive but not enough for you to thirst over as the two of them did. "What about you, Y/N?" They both spoke at the same time, and you shrugged. "I don't really care; I mean, they're all a one-night stand." You scoped out the place, seeing who else was around.

Your heart dropped for a moment as you looked around the room. Your eye locked in on that familiar muscular back. The tattoos that traveled down from the sleeves of the shirt, hugging his skin, made your guess right. You forced a swallow down your tightening throat. "I have to go to the bathroom, watch my drink?" You barely made eye contact with Kyujin as you scurried off. You locked the door behind you and took a deep breath. You walked over to the sink and took a moment to process that he was here.

Your palms started to hurt from the way you were gripping the countertop. You shut your eyes as you thought about him. Of course, he was there, it was his friend, but you haven't seen him at the past few parties that you've attended. So why the fuck was this the night he came to the party? Your thoughts froze as there was a knock on the door. "One minute!" You called out, stretching out your hands from the tense state they took from the hold you had on the counter. You fixed your hair and unlocked the door, opening it carefully. "I thought I saw you," That voice sounded sweet, like honey, as you looked at him. "It's nice to see you too, Jungkook," You lied and made your way to your friends.

Your friends smiled. "You're back! I was about to go find you," Kyujin teased as you nodded. "I'm actually going to go home now, just wanted to let you guys know," You gave them each a quick hug. "It's so early, are you sure?" Mina questioned you as you nodded. "Yeah, I'm just tired and have stuff I need to do. I'll text you," You smiled at them and walked out, leaving both of them confused by your odd behavior. You made your way home, your hands curled into fists in your pockets as you stared down at the ground. You didn't have to walk too far before texting your friends that you made it home safely. You took off your jacket and sighed as you sat down on your couch. The notification came from your friends messaging you, and you clicked on it. Thanking them for going out with you.

That's when you went to put your phone down on the couch beside you but stopped seeing the drop-down notification from Instagram. You swallowed, getting that throat-tightening feeling like when you were at the party. You clicked on the message and scoffed, reading it.

Jungkook: It's been a while since I've seen you. You still look amazing. It was nice to see you.

You closed out the message and went to your room with the intention of going straight to bed, but you could only think of what you had with Jungkook once upon a time. The way he used to hold you close and how it made you feel protected. You would have late-night conversations about anything and everything. You honestly didn't realize it was one way until you confessed. He never felt the same way about you, no matter how much you tried to convince yourself that he did. Even though some of his actions were romantic and he only expected you to be with him, he never could say he liked you the way you liked him. The word 'love' would only leave his lips when he was talking about how it felt to fuck you. You fell hard for him, but he never felt that way.

You sighed to yourself and checked the message one more time. Maybe one last message wouldn't hurt? You could make it different this time, making it clear you didn't want just sex. It was something you could never confess to your friends, but you missed the physical connection you had with him. You could find someone else, but it would take too long before you could consider being as intimate as you were with Jungkook. You knew him for years before you slept with him, and even though you hadn't seen him in a few years, your heart still beat the way it did when you were close to him and spending every moment with him. Maybe it was just your hopeless romantic brain trying to convince the logical side that told you he wasn't worth more of your time.

Y/N: nice to see you, too. Maybe we can meet up?

Jungkook: I'd like that; what would you like to do?

Y/N: We can do something simple. Maybe a movie?

Jungkook: Just tell me when I'll pick you up.

You solidified your plans with Jungkook and got ready. Your anxiety was on high alert as you got ready, realizing you were actually meeting up after time apart. You promised yourself you wouldn't see him again, but that was a year ago, and you swear on everything that it would be different this time around. You walked out your door once you got a text from him saying he was outside. Your mind was wiped from whatever it was that you wanted to say as you opened the door and got in. The smell of his sweet cologne hitting your nostrils. "So, what movie were you thinking of?" He looked over at you as he drove. "Oh," You tried to think of a movie he would want to see. "You can pick," You smiled over at him. "Alright," He laughed a bit. "What's so funny?" You huffed as he looked over at you. "You haven't changed," He smiled at you and parked.

Your cheeks flushed as he got out and opened your door. "Wow, what a gentleman," You teased him as he shook his head. "Yeah, yeah." He shut the door behind you as you walked into the theater. "Want any snacks, babe?" He nodded to the wall of snacks. Your cheeks flushed hearing that sudden name. "Just popcorn," You nodded as he walked over to the counter, paying for your small bucket of popcorn. You watched him and smiled as he handed it to you. "How much?" You asked him as he shrugged. "Nothing for you," You shook your head at him. Maybe it wasn't just sexual for him to make such playful comments. You had to take that idea out of your head; it was your first time hanging out together in a while, and you shouldn't automatically assume it's what you want. Maybe it was just sexual still, but how could you tell? The two of you definitely did have a connection, but it was hard to put a label on it. You just knew that you missed it, and you were beyond grateful that you finally had a chance to rebuild it.

You both made it to the theater and sat down. Once the movie started to play, his hand crept up your thigh as you sat next to each other. His fingers were playing with the end of your skirt. Your face turned a bright red from the heat that spread. You knew what he was doing, and you wanted to stop him, but it was hard to fight it. His touch made your body warm up as he played with the lace material of your panties. He could feel the way your body was reacting and smirked. Your breath hitched as he moved your panties to the side and felt your wet slit, moving his finger up slowly. He leaned over to whisper in your ear. "You're soaked, and I haven't even played with you yet," He chuckled as you whimpered from his touch. He went to continue, and you held his arm, restraining him from going further. "I don't want to get caught," You stared at him as he shook his head. "You won't,"

You still held his arm and shook your head. "Not here," He nodded and moved his hand away from you. "Alright," He suddenly sounded annoyed with you, and you looked down, finding something else to focus on as your mind was racing once you realized his demeanor changed. The awkward tension stayed between the two of you for the rest of the movie. "Do you want me to drive you home?" He looked at you. You knew he was asking so he could most likely continue what he tried to start. You shook your head and smiled. "I have plans with my friends; I can have one of them pick me up," He nodded as you walked out of the theater. "Thank you for taking me out," You smiled at him as he nodded, a faint smile on his lips. "Anytime,"

You sighed as he left and found a bench in the lobby to sit on. You called Mina, asking her for a ride and she showed up within a few minutes, and you got in her car. "How did you get here?" She couldn't help but question you immediately. "I came here with someone, but I didn't want to burden them." You shrugged as she sighed. "You wouldn't be burdening them if it was a date, you know that, right?" You nodded as she looked at you. "Who was your date?" She could sense how awkward you were with her question. "Don't tell me it was him," There was disappointment laced in her voice as you shrugged a bit. "Yeah, it was. I had a good time, though," She sighed at you again. "I thought he just wanted sex," She parked and stared at you. You fell silent as she watched you stare at your lap. "Listen, if it's what you want, I don't care, but I know you want a deeper relationship than what he has to offer."

You nodded and got out of her car. "Kyujin is upstairs; we're ordering some food, too." She got out after as you both walked up to her apartment. "Wowww, look how dressed up you are," Kyujin commented as you flushed lightly. "Where'd you go?" She questioned, seeing your skirt and makeup done. "She went out with Jungkook again," Mina spoke up; she sounded like a disappointed parent coming home to tell the other parent what they did wrong. Kyujin's face changed quickly. "Don't tell me that's true, Y/N," You shrugged her off and sat down on the couch. "Come on, Y/N, last time you went out with him, you were upset for weeks. You confessed, and he told you he wasn't interested like that, and you were heartbroken." Kyujin stared at you, along with Mina. "Guys, I know what I'm doing. I'm being more careful this time, and I won't get hurt. I promise," Your reassurance wasn't enough for them, but they didn't want to press anymore. They just wanted to enjoy the rest of the night with you.

Even though it seemed weird with your friends, you could tell it wasn't with malice but care for you. They didn't want to see you hurt again, and you understood that. That's why you were going to make it clear to Jungkook that nothing is going to be just sex. That's why when he messaged you at 11:30 the next night, you weren't opposed to saying yes. You showered and got yourself ready. Your nerves started to rack up as you drove to his. You started to plan the words that you wanted to say. Just wanting to get it out there immediately instead of waiting and letting yourself get hurt.

You walked up the steps of his apartment building and knocked lightly on his door. He opened the door after a few moments and let you in. "I'm so glad that you came over," His voice was so sweet, making your heart melt. The way he was dressed, however, made your brain flood with other ideas. The grey sweats hanging loosely on his bare hips. You tried to keep your composure as much as you could, not wanting to stare at his body for too long. "I'm glad you asked for me to come over," You smiled and walked over to his couch. "I actually wanted to say something." You started as he shushed you. "Afterwards," He looked at you; his eyes were filled with lust seconds after you walked in the door. You swallowed, remembering that dark look he always had. You closed your legs tightly together, not wanting to get too turned on just by his look.

"I've missed you," His voice was raspy as you laid down, letting him crawl on top of you and leave soft kisses on your neck. He could feel the way your core was heating up below him. His kisses continued to travel down until he hit the neckline of your clothing. His hand pushed up the loose tee shirt you had on. You let out a sharp exhale at his cold hands traveling up your sides. "Let's take this off," He slid his hands under your shirt as you sat up slightly, allowing him to strip you of your shirt and bra. Goosebumps spread across your skin from the cool air of his apartment. "How about I warm you up?" He smirked down at you; you couldn't resist nodding as you swallowed. The ache between your thighs grew as you saw his thick cock growing in his pants.

He took off your pants and moved your panties to the side. "I should finish what I started the other day," His finger teased your slit, a whimper escaped your lips as you felt him. The feeling of his rough fingers sent shivers down your spine as he pushed his finger in. "I've missed the way this pussy grips my fingers," He smirked as he curled his fingers, making you cry out in pleasure. "So loud already," He chuckled. You whimpered as his fingers moved quickly, pumping in and out of your soaking wet cunt. "J-Jungkook," A soft moan escaped your lips as he hovered above you. He pulled his fingers out and smirked, sucking them clean of your juices.

You watched him intently, your cheeks flushed as he hovered above you. God, he looked better than you remembered. You wrapped your arms loosely around his neck, pulling him in closer to you as he leaned down. Your bodies lay flush together as he kissed that sweet spot on your neck, biting down lightly. You let out a breathless moan as he left open-mouthed kisses down your neck. "I can't wait to fuck you any longer," He rasped and pushed his pants down and looked at you, giving himself a few strokes before pulling your panties to the side again.

He held one of your hips, letting it travel to your lower back, and lifted you so he could push himself deep inside of you slowly and inch by inch. Watching as your face started to contort from the feeling of him being inside again. "God, I've missed this fucking pussy," He groaned as your walls adjusted to the familiar girth. He held your hips close to his as he moved slowly, the rhythmic deep thrusts making you moan out. "F-fuck me," You pleaded as he raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that what I'm already doing?" He started to get a bit rougher, and you cried out. "Is this what you want? You want it faster?" He stared down at you, watching your chest bounce with each slow, brutal thrust. He bit his lip, teasing the way he fucked you.

"F-faster, please," You pleaded as he chuckled. "Look at you being a greedy slut," He gripped your hips as he picked up an unrelenting pace. You cried out as he didn't back down from the pace he had started. "Is this what you wanted?" He taunted as his hips jackhammered into yours. You couldn't give a response as you sobbed out from each thrust slamming into your hips. Your back arched as your walls gripped tightly around him. "Fuck yes, baby," He grunted. "You take this fucking cock so well," He tilted his head back and moaned. "I'm gonna fucking paint you all over," He hissed as his thrusts became more needy and not as rhythmic. "Y-you fuck me so fucking good," You sputtered, your walls spasming against him.

"I-I'm going to cum," You sobbed as your chest bounced up and down. "Do it," He demanded, sending shivers down your spine. He slammed into your hips, sending you over the edge. His cock twitched against your walls before he pulled out quickly, emptying himself on your stomach. Your lower body shook as he got off of you. He grabbed a box from the coffee table and handed it to you. "Here," your brain was clouded as he looked at you, shaking the box of tissues in your face. You grabbed a handful, and he tossed the box back onto the table.

You watched him pull his pants back up and walk to the kitchen as you wiped yourself off. Placing the dirty tissues on the table as he walked back. "Here," He handed you a water as you took it. "Thanks," You smiled softly, sitting up and taking a sip from the bottle. "Are you busy tomorrow?" You looked over as he shrugged. "Not really." You nodded a bit at his response. "Well, if you wanted to, we could go grab lunch or maybe some dinner?" You held the bottle in your lap. "Maybe." You bit your lip at his bland response. "Well, text me if you think of anything." You smiled at him. "Yep." Sensing the cold shoulder he was giving you, you put the water on the coffee table and collected your clothes, dressing yourself quickly. "I'm gonna go now," You cleared your throat, taking the water bottle with you as you walked out. "Have a good night," He said as you shut the door behind you.

You held your head and sat in your car for a moment. You didn't know why you put yourself in this situation again, and it was pissing you off. You thought, then called Kyujin. "Hey, can I come over?" You sounded tired. "Yeah, of course. Mina is over right now, too," She answered brightly. "I'll be there in ten," You drove off. "Drive safe, pookie!" Mina called out in the background as you laughed and hung up.

You walked upstairs and opened the door to her apartment. You walked over and flopped down on the couch. "What's wrong?" Mina's eyebrows furrowed as you reached over and grabbed the carton of ice cream Kyujin was holding. "You guys were right," You held the spoon and took a bite. Mina sighed and pulled you in close to her. "I'm sorry, Y/N," She rubbed your shoulders. "I just went over, and y'know," Your cheeks flushed; you were always awkward talking about sex. "But as soon as he finished, he stood up and walked away. He came back with water, but still, I tried to have a conversation, and he just ignored me; he clearly didn't want to talk to me." You took another bite as Kyujin joined in and embraced you. "I have to call it quits now; I know if I don't, I'll just get hurt." Kyujin nodded. "I know, and I know that you feel comfortable with him, but we care for you too much to see you get hurt by the same guy again,"

It hurt to hear the truth, but you needed it. You couldn't text him to tell him it was over, so instead, you ghosted him, and you let a week go by, and he never messaged you. It felt a bit too smooth, but you didn't want to jinx it. You felt so much better not stressing yourself out about him and feeling like you needed him to see you in another way than just sexual. Your friends were also proud of you for not talking to him again. They just knew your heart and how hard and fast you fall for someone. They hated Jungkook for how he hurt you last time, and they never wanted to see it again; they knew it was hard for you to leave the idea of being with him, and deep down, they knew it probably wasn't the last time he broke your heart.

And just like that, you knew you spoke too soon. Your phone buzzed, and there was his profile picture on your lock screen. You tapped on it, seeing he was inviting you over yet again. You bit your lip and thought about it. You did want to talk to him in person, explain your feelings, and tell him that sex isn't the only thing you want. You gave in on the chance and sent him a text, agreeing to see each other.

You got yourself ready and got in your car to drive to his place. You took a deep breath and practiced what you wanted to say to him as you drove. Once you knocked on that door, your eyes laid upon the sight of Jungkook whisking away your thoughts. Just standing there in a towel, letting you come in. You watched him as he walked to his bedroom. He didn't utter a word, but you followed him. You watched as he dropped his towel on the ground. You stared at every inch of his body, taking him in.

The words you had set up for you to say were no longer there. "Get on your knees for me, baby," You nodded, listening to everything he told you. You carefully got on your knees; the soft faux fur rug kept you away from the discomfort of the hardwood floors. You watched as he stroked his length, making it easier for you to suck on. You watched him reach for your hand, and you gave it to him. He placed it near the base of his cock as you took over for him. His head tilted back as he felt you. You looked up at him, parting your lips and taking his thick tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it. He looked down at you, staring into your eyes. You bobbed up and down slowly, not wanting to choke on him. Your cheeks hollowed against him, making a groan escape his lips. "Fuck Y/N," He bit his lip as you locked eyes with him.

He watched you. "You can go faster, babe," He instructed. You hesitated, not sure how fast you could move on him. "Want help?" He taunted; before you could really process what he said, he wrapped his fingers in your hair and started moving your head on him. "Mm," He groaned out, followed by a shattered breath. You gagged as he touched the back of your throat, but that didn't stop him as he kept moving your head on him. "God, I love your pretty mouth," He groaned. Your eyes watered from each hard thrust into your mouth. Your hand quickly grabbed his thighs, making him stop as he looked down at you. "Are you okay?" He moved himself away from you as you panted, finally being able to breathe for a moment.

"I wanted to talk," You let out softly as he groaned. "Seriously?! That's why you stopped?" His anger was bubbling as you swallowed; it hurt for a moment from the aggression your throat had felt just moments ago. "Yes, that's why I came over in the first place. You saying 'you loved my mouth' reminded me." Your voice was still quiet as he shook his head at you. "You're unbelievable," He groaned. "No, I'm not! I'm tired of coming over here and being used! I never say anything cause I don't want to lose the friendship we had when we first started!" You defended yourself. "Used?! You seem to be enjoying it just as much as I do." He scoffed. "Stop. I just wanted to fucking talk to Jungkook. I wanted to tell you I don't want this just to be sex. That's what it's been the last two times. I want a relationship."

You stayed calm as you spoke, watching him grab a pair of boxers. "Like last time?" He stared daggers into you, sending shivers down your spine. "Yes! That's all I have fucking wanted," You sounded exhausted as you spoke. "What don't you get?! I don't want that! You could've said that at the movies if that's how you truly felt. Fucking hell, Y/N," He was loud as you stared at him. "If you can't have an honest-to-God conversation with me, then I'm leaving," It was an open threat; you still wanted to talk with him and didn't think he would give in. "Go right ahead!" He barked.

You stared at him, not sure why you were surprised about his reaction. You weren't going to take it back, though. You walked out his door, slamming it behind you. Tears fell as you got into your car. "I'm so fucking stupid," You sniffed. Your hands hit the steering wheel as your body tense from the frustration of the situation you put yourself into again. You sat there, staring into space, calming down before you drove off.

Your argument must've scared him off as you didn't hear from him for almost a month. It still made you upset when you thought about him. He used to be so kind, and you would stay up for hours having conversations. Then, it suddenly turned into sex with him. You both got curious and let him take your virginity as you took his. Maybe that's why you were trying to hold onto him so close. You gave him something that you planned to keep. You trusted him enough to take it, expecting him to stay with you and take your friendship to the next level, but he clearly can't give you what you want anymore.

You checked your phone constantly, with empty hopes of him texting you to apologize. You felt shameful every time you checked. All wrapped up in your feelings, you didn't realize you were ignoring your friends until they texted you in the group chat.

Mina: Hey, are you okay, hun? We haven't heard from you in a bit.

Kyujin: If you want, we can come over, or you can just talk to us whenever you're ready. ❤️

Y/N: yeah, I'm okay. Jungkook and I officially ended it. It was just a big argument that happened, but it's fine. I'm sorry I haven't reached out.

Mina: I'm glad you're okay. We're always here for you, babes. I know it sucks, but trust me, it's for the better that it's over.

Kyujin: Dude was a dickhead. I'm happy you have him out of your life now, Y/N.

You laughed a bit at Kyujin's remarks. She always spoke her mind, which you loved about her. You knew she was the person you went to if you wanted honesty, and Mina was always there to comfort you.

Mina: Yeah, he was such a bitch. He was only horny and didn't care about feelings, which is so stupid of him. You're the sweetest person I know, Y/N, and he wasn't good enough to learn that.

You smiled to yourself at everything your friends had to say. You regret not telling them earlier, but you felt like you still needed some time to process it. It was actually over with Jungkook, which was something you weren't sure would happen. Everything was running smoother than the week that went in between last time. Your phone buzzed on your kitchen counter, and you picked it up.

Unknown number: Hey, I'm sorry for texting you like this out of nowhere. I really want to talk. I don't know if you'd want to meet up, but maybe you can call me? I just need to talk to you and actually explain my feelings. I'm really sorry.

You stared at the text, realizing it was Jungkook. You wanted to give in so desperately. Maybe for some better closure, and that's all. But that voice in your head kept telling you no. All you could think of was how disappointed your friends would be if they knew you were in contact with him again. You turned your phone over and walked to your bedroom. Every little thing you were trying to do wasn't enough of a distraction from Jungkook's sudden text. You wanted to be better than you were and not text him. You picked up your phone and stared at the message again.

Y/N: You can call me whenever you'd like. I'm not willing to meet up with you.

"Why did I do that?" You mumbled and sighed, not expecting him to call since it wasn't in person. He wouldn't have a chance to change the conversation into much more over the phone when you could hang up on him if he were being too much. Your phone buzzed, and you picked up. "Hello?" You answered as you heard Jungkook take a deep breath. "Hey, Y/N, I'm sorry to reach out so far after everything," You could hear the way he was pacing through his apartment. "What did you want to talk about?" You questioned him, wanting to get straight to the point. "I wanted to apologize for snapping at you. I should've told you then, but I just didn't consider a relationship with you. I have been thinking it over, though," He swallowed. "I would like to have a relationship with you, Y/N. If you're still willing," He cleared his throat as you stayed silent. He pulled his phone away from his ear and put it back. “Y/N?” He questioned.

"Yeah, sorry. Just processing," You swallowed. "Why have you suddenly changed your mind? Last time we spoke, you made it clear you only wanted sex." You held your forehead, rubbing your temples. Your heart felt torn hearing him finally say he did want to be with you. "I do like you, Y/N. I've just been too busy focusing on the fun and not feelings. I'm so sorry for how I've treated you." The sudden 180° change left you confused, and you took a deep breath. "Listen, Jungkook. I thank you for the apology. But that's all you'll get from me. I'm not going to put up with this back and forth. Today, you say you want to be in a relationship, but two weeks from now, you'll tell me you aren't interested at all." You pursed your lips together, trying to think of anything else you had to say.

"Please, Y/N, one chance. Let me make it up to you," He begged as you scoffed. "You've had two chances, Jungkook. I don't know how many more I can give you. You can try again in six months if you’re serious. You just can't have sex on your mind when you contact me next." You hung up and tossed your phone on the couch. It hurt to finally shut him down, especially when he sounded interested in something more with you. Tears slowly went down your face as you lay down in bed. "Thank god for closure," You mumbled before turning over.

5 months later

Even though it wasn’t a “break-up” breakup it took you a while to recuperate yourself. It was hard to move on from someone you spent years talking to. Even though it was one-sided he felt like your first love. Your friends kept pushing for you to get out more, encouraging you to speak to people they felt would be a good pairing for you.

You always told them you would reach out but you never did, it felt forced to you if you reached out after your friends begged you to. You wanted to find someone yourself. You made sure to leave your apartment often, just to go on walks and see what was around as businesses were opening left and right. That’s when you saw Hoseok just staging bouquets outside of his flower shop. You knew you had to introduce yourself. Hitting it off with him was easy. He took you out to dinner and always brought home custom bouquets of your favorite flowers for you. He was the man you’ve been dreaming of all these years. Even with all the heartbreak you put yourself through with Jungkook, you didn’t regret it if that was meant to happen for your path to Hoseok.

“Hey baby?” He called out to you. “Yes, my love?” You looked over at him as he fixed the sleeves on his buttoned linen shirt. “I have to stop by the shop, did you want to come with me? We could stop for a nice lunch too.” You nodded quickly and he smiled, watching as you changed into one of the many sundresses he’s bought you. He smiled, seeing you fix your necklace in the mirror and wrapped his arms around your back. “You’re so beautiful,” He cooed as you flushed.

You walked with him hand in hand to his store. “Y/N?” You heard that desperate voice and turned around. You realized it was Jungkook and turned back around. Hoseok noticed your reaction, leaning to whisper in your ear. “Who is that?” He questioned as you shook your head. “No one,” He raised an eyebrow at your answer, clearly not believing you. “Seriously hobi, it’s no one,” You smiled as he nodded,kissing your nose as Jungkook watched you walk away, realizing he actually let you go.

136 notes · View notes

carbondioxidewater · 1 day ago

Text

Make A Move (Pt. 5)

footballplayer!Sukuna x fem!reader

genre: slow-burn romance, college au, fluff, angst

warnings: none so far

word: 3.1

(-> Pt. 1) (-> Pt. 2) (-> Pt. 3) (-> Pt. 4) (-> masterlist)

On sunday morning, you woke up early, even though you hadn't been sleeping much. The events of the previous day came back to you one after the other. First, you thought about the game and Sukuna's impressive skills in it.

You reflected on the motorcycle ride with him and how he drove you to the Rainbow Bridge just so you could see the city at night. That must've been one of the most thoughtful things anyone has ever done for you. You turned over on your side in your bed, smiling.

And then you remembered how you almost kissed and how he treated you completely different later at the party than when you were alone. A feeling of embarrassment washed over you again at the thought that everyone present had noticed Sukuna not wanting to kiss you. Not that you were dying to feel his soft lips, probably salty from the sweat - no, that wasn't it. Because even if that were the case, it was more the fact of how and why he rejected you that was bothering you.

But asking him was out of the question. After all, you still had enough pride left to not give him that pleasure. After all, he wasn't obliged to kiss you. You shouldn't let anything show, otherwise he might get the wrong idea. And with that mentality, you went to your first lecture on Monday.

After the lecture, you entered the cafeteria. Today they cooked vegetarian pasta again and it always tasted delicious. You grabbed a plate, had it filled up, and walked over to the where the silverware was. As you were putting down your tray, someone spoke up directly from the side.

"I got your message, by the way."

You weren't startled this time.

"Did you know that people usually greet each other before starting a conversation?" you expressed calmly and Sukuna burst out laughing. You always managed to entertain him.

"Sorry, hi princess."

"Hi." you said quietly, a gloomy feeling at the nickname. "What message?"

"Yuji told me he should wish me 'good luck' from you."

"So?"

"Well, I certainly was lucky, after all you really came. But..." he didn't finish his sentence, obviously waiting for your reaction. Was he really trying to flirt with you again? This man was difficult.

You took your tray and moved towards one of the tables. Of course Sukuna followed you and sat down on the opposite chair. You sighed.

"But what, Sukuna? What do you want?" you asked in annoyance.

"You should give me your number. I couldn't even make sure you got home safe on Saturday." he flashed his shiny white teeth at you.

"Why do you care? I went home with my friends." you said, but not snippy, more in a neutral tone.

"I know that." he simply returned and didn't seem to have anything else to say. He just looked at you.

Seriously? He doesn't mention what happened at all? Well, if he can act like nothing happened, so can you.

"I don't like being watched while eating." you said bluntly and Sukuna couldn't help but smile.

"Why, are your table manners so terrible?" he countered. You puffed.

"Aren't you hungry?" you then asked, whereupon he told you that he had already eaten.

"I saw you and with you the opportunity."

"The opportunity for what?" you then questioned.

"Asking you for your number."

"You have my address already, that should be enough."

You would not let him get any closer to you.

He chuckled and you ate the first forkful of pasta.

"So you don't want to give it to me?" he carried on.

"Obviously not."

"Okay, I'll find a way. Oh, and enjoy your meal." he winked at you. And then he stood up and left the table.

Finally you could eat in peace.

You didn't see him for the next few days, which gave you enough time to concentrate on your studies. It was thursday evening and you had to give in your assignment for neurolinguistics, the due date was today. You quickly finished explaining how the priming effect works, when suddenly Utahime entered your room with the mail in her hand.

"Oh, are you finished for today already?" you asked, referring to her job, to which she nodded.

"But look at this!" she said, astonished, and waved a letter in front of your face.

The letter was addressed to you, but had no sender. Strange.

You opened it and the content was a single sheet of paper with a few lines written on it.

"You're right, your address is enough. If you don't want to give me your number, I'll have to try this way ;)"

Your face immediately heated up, you never thought he would go out of his way like that. But what was he doing that for? What was his ulterior motive?

Utahime saw your shocked face and read the letter. Then she laughed.

"Wow, he's really trying. Have you eaten yet? Should we order something?"

And together, you ended the evening with a juicy pizza.

But on the next day, you found a note in your locker too. You opened the folded paper and it said:

"Meet me under the bleachers"

Oh God, your heart was pounding. Just what was he thinking?

You decided to meet him at the stands to ask him to stop this whole thing. Even though you were really flattered by the attention, it still hurt your ego that he apparently thought he could win you over like that. Was it working? Maybe a little, but he didn't have to know that. And you definitely wouldn't fall for it any further.

When you finally got there, there was no sign of him. You asked the few players practicing on the field about him.

"Sukuna? No, he's not here. As far as I know he has a philosophy class right now."

Philosophy? You didn't even know that was his second subject. But that explained why he was around you so often, because philosophy and linguistics were taught in the same building. But why did he send you here then? Nothing he did made sense and you were slowly getting fed up with this chaos.

You were just on your way back into the building when all of a sudden, you bumped into someone's back on accident. He turned around and to your surprise, it was the menace himself.

"Careful." he laughed lightly. But you were a bit pissed at him right now and just walked past him. He walked after you.

"Hey, where are you going?" he yelled.

"I don't feel like playing your games. Find someone else to annoy." you said without even looking at him.

He grabbed your wrist and brought you to a stop. When you tried to escape his grip, he blocked you with his arm and caged you in.

"Calm down. What's going on with you?" Sukuna exclaimed.

"No, what's going on with you? Why do you leave those notes in my locker, arrange a meeting and then don't come?"

"That's what it is about?" He chuckled. "Now do you see how complicated it is? If I had your number, you would have known when I wrote the message."

You were flabbergasted, was that really his plan behind all this? To show you the need to exchange numbers?

"Or you can just write the time next time!" you spat out.

"Next time? So you like when I leave you letters?" he smirked and upset you with his presumptuous words.

"Don't twist my words..." you pouted and looked to the side. He let you go now, you had calmed down.

"Then what do you say: We have another game next Friday. If we win, I get your number, if we lose... well, you can choose."

"Why do you want my number so badly?" you probed.

"Because I like you. You're fun to be around."

This confession knocked you off balance, but you swallowed your speechlessness. In the end, two could play that game.

"Okay, if you lose, you'll never ask me for my number again." You smiled mischievously and he followed suit, tilting your chin upwards with his big hand before responding.

"It's settled then."

You stayed at Shoko's for the weekend, since you wanted to binge-watch the new season of your series. Utahime didn't like the show and had to work anyway, so it was just the two of you tonight.

After a few episodes, however, it turned into a deep talk session. You told Shoko everything that had happened with Sukuna so far and she reprimanded you for getting into this 'pact'.

"His team will win either way, the only ones who would have a chance against them are the UOT." she explained and you thought about her words.

UOT? Of course! They say their quarterback is on par with Sukuna. They are the biggest rivals!

"Are they gonna play against each other too?" you wondered.

"I think not until the very end of the season. That's the most important game after all."

The end of the season... So in about 8 weeks. But wait a minute...

"How do you even know that?" you stared at Shoko in amazement and she looked up at the ceiling.

"A few of my high school friends are on this team. Utahime knows them too."

"What? Why am I only finding out about this now?" you shifted in your seat, grinning at her. She shrugged.

"I never thought it was important. After all, you haven't been interested in football until now."

You nodded. Then your phone rang. You took it from the coffee table and saw that it was Utahime, but before you could even pick up, she already hung up.

"Who was it?" Shoko interrupted and you told her, but you two didn't think much of it.

You thought that maybe she called you on accident, so you sent her a message asking "are you okay?" and checked her location. She was still at the hotel. A few minutes later, she finally replied and confirmed that everything was indeed alright.

"Okay she just replied, she's fine. But next time we're all together, you two have to tell me more about your mysterious old friends." You waggled your eyebrows and Shoko laughed.

"Yeah, yeah, even if there's not really much to tell."

And then you were back in the stadium, this time, on your campus. It was a home game and the people on the stands were louder than at the last game, but this time you secured yourselves better seats. You were sitting in the front row now!

At the opening, all of the players walked onto the field and turned to the audience. Sukuna waved at the big crowd, his eyes moving from left to right, and finally rested his gaze on you, a small smirk spreading on his face. And then it was kickoff. As always, Sukuna's leading skills ensured a successful first half. It was clear that the team had been a unit for a long time, as well as they complemented each other.

After the first half, there was the usual break and you used it to quickly go use the bathroom. The line was long though, of course you weren't the only one who had to go after such a long time. But luckily, it quickly emptied and after you were done, the break was almost over. While the water was tingling on your hand, you heard a few girls coming in, chattering. You recognized the cheerleaders, one of them was the blonde girl named Manami.

"So, how are things going with Sukuna now?" asked Manami's friend.

At the mention of that name, you became very wary. You felt like you were eavesdropping, but you couldn't turn off your hearing sense after all.

"I think he likes me." Manami said the words dreamily, but you couldn't listen to their conversation any longer, because if you stayed at the sink for too long, you would attract their attention. You dried your hands and then went out the door.

What was their true relationship to each other? She thinks he likes her? What is he doing for her to think that? You had a weird gut feeling on your way back and when your friends noticed, they asked if you were okay. You lied to them and, thank goodness, that feeling disappeared as soon as the second half of the game started again.

And as Shoko predicted, your team won. The others weren't bad by any means, but Sukuna isn't feared in the world of football for nothing. He once again secured a great victory and after the game ended, his teammates all ran towards him to celebrate.

They picked him up and carried him to the front of the stands while you and the others clapped for their success. Many shouted his name, others shouted for the other players, but his grinning, smug look was only on you.

His comrades let him down and the crowd slowly started to leave the stands as Sukuna continued to keep you under his spell. He stepped on a bench in front of it, leaned his elbow on the railing of the stands and pulled out a small piece of paper from his pocket. He pressed it between his fingers proudly and held it in front of his slightly tilted face, a mischievous smile on it, so that you could make out the numbers on the note.

You narrowed your eyes in an attempt to see more clearly and as the digits became visible, you recognized them as your phone number.

How did he-

You were about to ask him that, but Aoi intervened, jumping onto the bench and putting his arm over Sukuna's shoulder, happily dragging him into the locker room.

When you finally came down the stairs, you decided to wait for Sukuna outside. Your friends were talking about something you didn't pay attention to.

Then the door opened and you walked towards Sukuna expectantly, but he was stopped by Manami at that moment. You saw her putting her arm around his and how she walked to the parking lot with him. That made you abandon the whole plan and you went back home with your girls.

When you got there, you got a message from an unknown number.

unknown number: not even curious how I got your number?

That was definitely Sukuna. Your mood immediately worsened. You just couldn't figure him out. You threw your phone on the bed and made yourself something to eat. Cooking should calm you down, so you put on some music and started chopping. It took half an hour before you got the motivation to text him back.

you: aren't you out with the cheerleader right now?

You sent the message and threw your phone away from you again. Why had you been so direct? You were about to take your phone to delete the message, but Sukuna had already replied.

unknown number: oh you're curious about something else I see. u stalking me? ;)

you: no, I just saw you two together after the game. hope you had fun.

unknown number: yea sure had.

you: good for you.

Somehow the message came across as more bitter than you anticipated, and Sukuna also noticed the harsh tone.

unknown number: wait, you weren't seriously thinking I was after you, were you?

you: of course not? I was being genuine.

You were not. He typed.

unknown number: well then, that's good.

And then you left him on read. Asshole.

The whole weekend was spent trying to figure Sukuna out, but as much as you tried, his motives remained unclear to you. You even started listing different possibilities together with Shoko and Utahime, but for every idea there was something in Sukuna's behaviour that didn't add up. You set up three theories:

REASON NUMBER ONE: He really just likes you platonically. But then why did he flirt with you sometimes, why did he almost kiss you, why did he put in such an effort into getting your number?

REASON NUMBER TWO: He was just trying to get into your pants. Maybe there was something going on with this girl, Manami, and he didn't want her to find out. But then why did he never make a move on you like that? Apart from the teasing, he's never been disrespectful or dirty towards you.

And, this was the most unlikely one, but,

REASON NUMBER THREE: He had a serious interest in you. But then, why wouldn't he just be straight forward? Why was this girl all over him at all times? And why didn't he do something against it? Or was he keeping the both of you as mere options?

Whatever it was, it was getting on your nerves. And you decided you wanted to make clear to him that the both of you should either be friends or nothing.

You were just taking a few things out of your locker when there was a sudden bang next to you. You took the last book out of it and then looked at the source.

"Boo." Sukuna called out, pressing his lower arm against the locker. He was wearing a simple white sweater with the sleeves rolled up, but it was so tight that it highlighted his broad, big chest. His hand was clenched into a fist, which meant that you had a perfect view of his flexing muscles as well.

You gulped and tried not to let on how attractive that was to you, because you couldn't afford to seem weak in front of him.

"Wow I'm so scared." you commented and closed your locker.

"I bet you are, now that I've got your number." he claimed. Then you faced him.

"Where did you get it from anyway?" you wondered. You still didn't have a single clue.

He smiled wickedly again.

"Why don't you ask your friend Utahime?"

Safe to say that's not what you expected coming out of his mouth.

"You're lying." you doubted.

"Why would I do that?" he replied with a foxy grin.

You took a deep breath.

"Alright, I'm gonna ask her later. But can we stop with the constant banter, it's giving me a headache."

"Oh, why's that?" he came closer, but you pushed him away again.

"It was fun in the beginning, but it's getting annoying now. Let's just be normal friends." you proposed.

"Friends?" Sukuna raised an eyebrow gently, considering your words and quirking a small smile. "You wanna befriend me?" he seemed oddly delighted about that. You didn't know if he was poking fun at you or not.

"Yeah, isn't that what you wanted?" you inquired, dumbfounded by his reaction.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course. Alright, let's be friends then." he stared down at you, a gleam in his eyes that you couldn't make out.

Yes, it would definitely be better to be friends. That way, he wouldn't constantly irritate you with his mixed signals.

And with that, your friendship with the star player began.

RAHHH he's so confusing!!! Wdym you send me LETTERS to contact me?!?!?! And then say you're not after me? ARGHHH

What do you think his intentions are? As always, reblogs and comments are so so appreciated! I wanna hear your thoughts about it so bad! <3

taglist: @miakxn @aureliaborea @nonamevenus @silkija @sad-darksoul @joh-ahae @mysteriaqueen @rebirthbunbun @inflatabledinosaurs19

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hearts4werka · 2 days ago

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NNN day 21 | Uninvited Judgements

summary: you were invited to a party by one of your friends, of course you brought Matt, your boyfriend along despite him being slightly younger, everything was going by smoothly and everyone was having great fun until you went out to the bathroom and when you came back you saw your drunken friends surrounding Matt, not suggesting anything good by their loud laughter…

warnings: ANGST, heavy language, arguing, party setting, drunk guests, bullying, age discrimination, age gap, all of the drinking characters are of age please drink responsibly and be aware of the possible consequences! & possibly more

authors note: nnn is soon coming to an end and the Christmas season will start which means… more Christmas fics! (And more smut) I am already feeling the spirit and love this season so much, also sorry for not posting this fic when I was supposed to but something personal happened and I couldn’t finish it that day and I hope y’all understand , but anyway luv y’all sm and hope y’all enjoy this one

The music bounced through the walls of the small apartment, a vibrant background to the laughter and conversation that filled the air. Matt adjusted the collar of his shirt, visibly feeling a little self-conscious under his excitement. He was still getting used to being around my friends, most of them were several years older than him. We had been dating for a few months now and while I loved spending time with him, he couldn’t shake the feeling he was still trying to prove himself.

I took his hand and squeezing it gently. “I’ll just be gone a minute,” I said, leaning in to kiss him softly. “Just need to use the bathroom. You okay to hang out here?” “Yeah, I’m good,” he replied, forcing a smile. “I’ll grab a soda or something.” As I slipped away into the crowded bathroom, Matt leaned against the counter and glanced around. Most of the partygoers were off in groups, cups in hand and laughter mixing with the music. He was about to reach for a drink when he noticed a couple of my friends gathering near him, their faces flushed and attitude high from the alcohol they have consumed.

“Look who it is!” one of my friends Mary slurred, her eyes shining with mischief. “Little Matt. What’s he doing here all by himself? Waiting for his mom to pick him up?” Matt felt heat rush to his cheeks, an uncomfortable mix of embarrassment and irritation. “I’m fine,” he muttered, trying to brush off the comments but the lack of a reaction from him it only encouraged the others. “Oh come on!” another friend chimed in with her laughter ringing loud. “You’re dating a woman who could practically be your aunt! What is she like, 25?” The group burst into drunk giggles, clearly enjoying the show of the younger guy, considering him as an easy target.

Matt clenched his fists at his sides, feeling a swirl of emotions and his gut twisted in upset. The teasing only got worse, the insults sharper, the references to our age gap digging deeper until he just couldn’t stand it anymore. “I’m not a kid for gods sake,” he shot back but his voice barely cut through the intense crowd. Their laughter only grew louder, cutting off his words. When I finally returned with a bright smile lighting my face while Matt was the opposite, livid and his skin prickling with anger. I noticed the tension immediately as I maneuvered through the crowd toward him.

“Everything okay?” I asked concerned looking from him to my drunken friends who had just finished their turn of jokes. “They think it’s hilarious that I’m younger,” he said, unable to keep the annoyance from his voice. “Why do you even hang out with people who think it’s okay to make fun of someone like that?” I looked caught off guard while blinking rapidly. “I don’t think they meant anything by it, Matt. They were drunk and you know how that goes. They joke around, they don’t always know where to draw the line.” “A line?” he snapped and frustration spilling out of his expression. “It feels fucking disrespectful to make jokes about someone’s age! Like I’m some boy toy you’re just playing around with. Do you think I like being the center of their jokes?”

“Matt, just chill out for a second,” I ushed, raising your hands for him to calm down. “You know they didn’t mean for it to hurt you. It’s just banter! They were drunk—” “No, it’s not just banter!” he raised his voice louder than he intended. “It’s condescending and you’re just brushing it off like it doesn’t matter!” I felt my heart racing, a mixture of anger and hurt beginning to swirl in my veins “You’re making a huge deal out of this. They’re not bad people, they were having a good time! You can’t just get upset over everything people say when they’re drinking!” “It’s not ‘everything’! It’s just this! Ugh!” he exclaims, frustration lacing every syllable that left past his mouth. “Sometimes I feel like you don’t even see how it affects me. You just make excuses for them.” With that, one of my friends—a guy named Jake who had been listening nearby—snorted. “Who knew Matt had such thin skin? Can’t handle a little fun?”

Matt’s gaze flicked toward Jake, becoming stiff in his stance. “And you’re an ass.” “That’s rich, coming from someone who’s basically a kid,” Jake retorted and shaking his head. “Matt, just ignore him,” I pleaded but he was too far gone now. “No, fuck this…” he muttered, stepping away from the group who had been laughing at his expense. He turned to me with his eyes blazing. “I’m not playing this game. I’m not gonna sit here and take your friends’ bullshit. I’m done.” Before I could get a single word out past my lips, Matt turned on his heel and moved toward the exit, the door slamming behind him. The sound echoed in the now silent apartment as everyone exchanged glances, the party suddenly feeling much less exciting.

I tried to process what had just happened, a storm of emotions swirling inside of me. My friends still buzzing from the drinks, didn’t have the capacity to understand. They were just drunk and careless. But Matt? His feelings were painfully real and visible for anyone and my heart sank knowing I would have to find him and somehow make sense of this mess my drunk friends have put me in now.

@hearts4werka |

𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 🏷️ | @sturnsxplr-25 - @strnzzvsp - @luvvs4chriss - @sturniolosweetheart33 - @pussypie456 - @choclatestarfishwithahat - @venusxsturnio - @bagsbyclair0 - @sturnstvs - @dykes4chris - @hoe4matt - @cayleeuhithinknott - @strnilolover - @marrykisskilled - @phone4pills - @emely9274 - @cupiidk1lls - @lily-strnlo - @nicksgirlfriend - @sturniolosiphone - @sophand4n4 - @zombiesturniolo - @luvleyangeldust |

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dreamdragonkadia · 3 days ago

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a/n: Something something Percy and vacation, because we all know the poor guy deserves a break. For some reason, I have this entire short series of Percy and his partner in Hawaii floating around in my head. Surfboards, shaved ice, and a lot of sunburn jokes (because you know Nico would never let this go). Honestly, it’s the idea of him being both so in his element with the water and so hilariously out of his depth when it comes to the whole “vacation” thing.

daughter of hades! reader

For as much as you were your father's daughter, the sun seemed to give you the perfect tan—unlike any other child of Hades. (RIP Nico, your lobster-colored skin will never be forgotten.) At least it usually did. This time, you were pretty sure you'd leave the water with a good sunburn, judging by the relentless warmth soaking into your skin. But you couldn't bring yourself to leave your surfboard. Not with the way your sunglasses fit snuggly on your nose, nor when the waves were so perfect, lapping against your legs and carrying you with a kind of ease you'd been craving for weeks.

This whole trip was a much-needed vacation after weeks of college exams and late-night stress eating. The only thing keeping you sane during those grueling study sessions was the promise of seeing Percy again. Long-distance relationships were complicated as hell—ironic, given your family ties—but somehow, the two of you made it work. Even going from opposite ends of the world to just two states away hadn't magically solved the struggle of missing him every single day. But him attending New Rome University did make things easier when it came to shadow travel.

So, when your semester ended, you made it your mission to convince your boyfriend that a trip to Hawaii would solve all your problems. It was the ultimate win-win situation. You got a week on the beach, Percy got to try out his water skills in style, and both of your families got a much-needed break. Plus, it wasn’t every day that the son of Poseidon got to show off in the Pacific. Plus, this whole trip was going on Daddy's credit card anyways.

The sound of a familiar laugh cut through the rhythmic crash of waves, and you glanced toward the shoreline. Percy stood there, grinning ear to ear, holding what looked like a painfully large plate of shaved ice. He waved it in the air as if to say, Hurry up, or I’m eating this all myself. Typical.

"You're lucky I like you," you muttered to yourself with a grin, lying flat on the board and paddling toward the beach. The salty spray stung your eyes, but it was worth it. Every second you spent in Hawaii with Percy felt like another little reminder of why you'd fallen for him in the first place. His effortless charm. The way he somehow always made you laugh, even on your worst days. And, of course, how he absolutely refused to stop teasing you for being a "walking contradiction."

"You're Hades' kid," he'd said when you first arrived, eyes sparkling as he watched you grab a lei of bright yellow plumerias. "Aren't you supposed to, like, hate the sun or something?"

You’d shoved the lei into his face. "We don't all brood like Nico, you know."

The water rushed around your ankles as you pushed the board closer to shore, and Percy handed you the shaved ice with a cheeky smile, already plotting something—you could tell by the glint in his sea-green eyes. Sure enough, as soon as he sat down, he used his powers to send a gentle wave rolling up behind you, pushing the board—and both of you—back into the ocean. "Took you long enough. I thought I’d have to send a search party."

"Oh, please." You rolled your eyes, trying to steady yourself while digging your spoon into the colorful mound. "I’m not the one who spent half an hour arguing with the guy about blue raspberry being superior to pineapple."

"It is superior," Percy argued, unrepentant, pressing his legs against either side of yours. "I’m just spreading the truth."

"Spreading lies, you mean," you shot back, handing him the bowl, then, with a content sigh, you lay back against the board, letting the gentle rocking of the ocean drift your mind away.

How the two of you managed to fit so perfectly on the surfboard was a mystery, especially considering that Percy was anything but small. But somehow, it worked. Maybe that was just...you and him. Always finding a way to make things fit, no matter how chaotic or improbable it seemed.

“We should do one of those couple massages the hotel offers,” Percy muttered, breaking the peaceful silence. You felt him lean forward against your legs, his voice a warm rumble as the waves continued to lap softly around you. “Mom and Paul got one this morning, and she said it was worth it.”

So that’s why Sally and Paul had left Estelle with you two earlier. Not that you minded. Estelle adored both of you, and you couldn’t say no to that little face. The memory of her tiny fingers tugging on yours that morning as she lay between you in bed brought a smile to your lips. She had giggled uncontrollably every time you’d snuggled closer, her bright laugh filling the room in a way that made your heart feel impossibly full.

“She’s the best, isn’t she?” Percy asked, as if reading your mind.

“Definitely,” you agreed, a fond smile curling your lips. “She didn’t even cry when I accidentally dropped her pacifier. Just gave me this little side-eye like, ‘Really? You’re supposed to be the responsible one.’”

Percy barked a laugh, the sound so genuine it made your chest ache in the best way. “Yeah, that’s my sister, all right. She’s already better at judging people than I am.”

“Low bar,” you teased, nudging his side lightly with your foot.

“Hey!” He grabbed your ankle in mock indignation, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You wound me.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound blending with the soft crash of waves around you. Moments like this—peaceful, playful, with no looming monsters or world-ending crises, or college essay's due—were rare, and you wanted to soak in every second.

“So,” Percy said after a moment, letting go of your ankle and leaning back again, placing the bowl of already half eaten ice in the empty space under your legs. “Massages or no?”

You hummed in thought, pretending to deliberate even though you already knew the answer. “Fine. As long as this sunburn doesn't kill me tomorrow."

“Ah, yes, finally you will achieve that lobster burn like all children of Had—” Percy started to laugh, but you didn’t let him finish. With a quick shove of your leg, you pushed him off the surfboard, sending him tumbling into the water.

There was a startled yelp, followed by a loud splash, and then silence. For a moment, the waves lapped peacefully, as if the ocean itself was holding its breath.

Then, with a dramatic gasp, Percy resurfaced, water dripping from his soaked bangs as he propped himself up on the edge of the board. His nose was inches from yours, his sea-green eyes narrowed into an exaggerated pout. “Hey! What was that for?!”

“For daring to slander my superior tanning skills,”

Percy squinted at you, water glistening on his skin. “You know, I could just flip this board and end this little truce right now.”

“Percy, so help me, if you try—” Your words were cut off as he leaned forward, slotting his mouth against yours.

The kiss was warm and salty, the ocean’s spray clinging to both of you as his hand found your cheek. For a moment, the world stilled—the waves, the sky, the sun—all of it fading into the background as his lips moved with yours. All that mattered was Percy, his touch, the quiet certainty that he was yours, and you were his.

When he pulled back, his grin was back in full force, all smug and playful. “That’s what I thought,” he said.

You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to keep your expression serious, though the heat blooming in your cheeks probably gave you away. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“Lucky?” Percy quirked an eyebrow, sliding back onto the board with practiced ease. “Babe, I’m a catch.”

You groaned, pushing the shaved ice back into his hands. “And now I’m regretting everything.”

“Liar,” he teased, bumping his knee against yours. The two of you sat there, the surfboard rocking gently beneath you. You let out a long sigh, resting your head against Percy’s shoulder, your fingers idly trailing through the cool water beside the board. “You know,” you said after a beat, “I think this might be the longest we’ve gone without a sea monster showing up.”

“Don’t jinx it,” Percy warned, his voice light but carrying just enough seriousness to make you laugh. “The last thing I want is a giant crab ruining my shaved ice.”

“Or ruining our massage plans,” you added with a small grin. “You’re still treating me, by the way.”

“Treating you?” Percy shot you a faux-offended look. “I’m the one risking my life out here. You’re the one who almost drowned me.”

“You fell off,” you corrected, snickering as you felt his gaze on you. “I just… gave you a little nudge.”

“Yeah, sure,” he muttered, shaking his head, but the way his arm wrapped around your waist told you he wasn’t really upset.

The two of you drifted for a while longer, the sounds of laughter and waves filling the air. As the sun moved across the sky, Percy glanced at you, his eyes softening. “Thanks for this.”

“For what?” you asked, turning to meet his gaze.

“For... making everything better,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “Even when stuff sucks, you somehow make it less sucky.”

You smiled, leaning into his warmth. “That’s what I’m here for.”

Percy grinned, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Well, good. Because I’m not letting you go.”

You smiled up at him. “You’re stuck with me, Seaweed Brain.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

#✨️by yours truly✨️#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackson x y/n #bookish #percy jackson x you #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson series #drabble #vacation with percy would be fun

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abbyssgf · 4 hours ago

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𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝!𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐤𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧’

• concept: you go to one of your friends party with your bestfriend, Sevika. You didn't tell her but you have a feelings for her but who knows what could happen during the party? (modern au)

• words: around 3,5k (i got a little carried away)

• warnings: nsfw, sevika eats reader out, soft dom!sevika and sub!reader, alcohol, cigarettes, sevika call' reader pet names; "baby", "darling", "sweetheart", etc. yeah I think that's all

• author note: it's my first published fanfic and I hope you'll like it guys especially sevika lovers (love ya guys) I had so much fun writing it and have fun reading this fanfic!😜💕 (also english is not my first language so if i've made some mistakes then i'm sorry!!)

You were getting ready for Ran's party, from around 4.p.m to 5.p.m. You did yourself makeup, did your hair and chose your perfect outfit for a party; white top and black skirt (with small pants underneath for safety). Actually was an a 5:30.p.m and you heard your phone got a text, you reached up for your phone and saw a test from your bestfriend, sevika, a message

"hang up, darlin', I'm in front of your apartment"

You smiled reading this. You and sevika were besfriends, nothing more…at least that was the thought you've tried to believe. You've always had a crush on sevika, her muscles, her perfect lips, her brown eyes, her dark hair and just her…she is perfect. But you didn't want to make things between you two uncomfortable so you didn't tell sev that you like her, more than just a friend.

Finally you take your purse and pack things in it such as your phone, charger, tissues, tampons (for an emergency), your lipstick and some chewing gums. You put your purse on your shoulder, you put your shoes on, take the keys from your apartment and leave your house locking your doors behind you.

The first thing you saw was sevika's car in front of your house, waiting for you. You smiled under your breath when you saw sevika next to her car, sevika's car was mixed up with black and purple color. She smiled at you when you came closer to her.

"you look amazing" sevika said to you and slight blush came at your cheeks and you hope that sevika didn't notice this, 'cause it would be awkward because she is your friend

"Thanks, vika, you look great too" you replied to her with a gentle smile on your face.

Sevika's hair was arranged on gel, she had lines made with black ink, and was wearing a black shirt without sleeves that emphasized her arm muscles and black elegant pants, you could feel how riled up you started to be only by looking at sevika in this outfit which only make her sexier, you cleared your throat "lets go, we don't want to be late don't we?" you said to sevika.

she smiled at you nodding her head, she opened the passenger door to you. you said a little 'thanks' and you got into a car a few seconds later sevika got into her driver seat, closing the door behind her and she started to drive towards Ran's house. a silence was between two so you decided to ask sev if you could put some music on so the drive wouldn't be so silent between two but of course you know that you or sevika don't mind the silence cause it was comfortable in some way.

you connected your phone to sevika's car and opened spotify

"hey, I'm gonna play the new song of Billie Eilish, 'kay?" you said to sevika and she nodded focused on the road. you open the song named 'guess' from billie eilish and charli xcx the song filled the car with lyrics and you listened to it singing softly words under your breath meanwhile sevika listened to the words and smirked while listening to your voice.

after a while you saw familiar home of your friend and soon sevika parked in front of the house of Ran, you both got out of the car and sevika gave you a small smile "ready to go?" she asked you and you smiled wilde "yeah, lets have some fucking fun" and with that you caught sevika's hand and you dragged her with you to Ran's house and a small blush on sevika's checks passed unnoticed by you.

you and sevika entered the house and you were immediately greeted by loud music coming probably from the living room, the kitchen, which was visible from the entrance to the house, had a lot of food on the table, from healthy things to sweet and salty snacks and alcohol. well the party was just starting, but you could already feel the adrenaline in your body and excitement filled your body, you said hello to some of your friends and sevika also greeted her friends.

you go to the kitchen, grab a glass and you poured yourself some alcohol that was within your reach, few moments later sevika stand next to you and do the same, the alcohol immediately appeared in your body and you breathed a sigh of relief as you felt your body relax under the influence of the drink. sevika looked at herself from the corner of her eye, looking at you and she made a mental note to check on you later from time to time 'cause she was concerned that you'll drink a lot of more than you usually do (you never didn't drink more than usual but she was still concerned about you).

between those two hours you drink more alcohol but not that many that you wouldn't recognize where you are and sevika comes to your side from time to time to check how you are feeling. Actually you were chatting with one of your friend, Olivia talking about everything that crossed your mind, laughing with her and you two were sitting on the couch. While chatting you noticed that sevika went out to the terrace, probably to smoke a cigarette. lately you didn't talk with her so you decided to go after her.

"sorry, im gonna talk to sevika. i'll be right back, okay?" you said to Olivia and she just nodded. you got up from the couch and you headed to the terrace after sevika. since it was autumn, cold weather hit you when you stopped at the terrace and you stood next to sevika smiling gently "you're having fun?" you asked her looking at her, sevika raised her eyebrow and huffed "aren't you cold?" she asked looking at your outfit up and down. you shrugged "i'll be fine, I will back to the house in a moment" you replied looking at sevika when she lighted her cigarette and she put it to her lips and she wrapped her muscular hand around your waist, pulling you close to her to keep you warm, at least for a moment

your check went slightly pink because of the cold but also because of the feeling sevika arm around you and her hand on your waist. "yeah" sevika murmured her response to your question then she pulled out of her lips the cigarette rolling her head to sideways and she blew smoke from her mouth while she do it your gaze slipped softly do sevika's lips and your mind started to wondering how her lips would feel against yours you didn't know but sevika's thoughts where exactly the same she was wondering god knows how long how your lips would feel against her, how soft would be your neck while she would prepare it with her kisses. without even noticing you came closer to sevika maybe you did it because you weren't thinking while looking at her lips or the alcohol you drank added your body some confidence to do what you wanted for a long time.

"you have a beautiful lips" you murmured under your breath, sevika's eyes widened slightly and she felt her heart beat faster for a moment, quickly she smirked and looked at you "oh yeah?" she answered cocky and the smell of cigarettes filled your nostrils "you know your lips are pretty too, they look really kissable" she said and you giggled "you wanna find out is that true?" you asked and when sevika heard those words she dropped her cigarette, you didn't even have a moment to react and her lips where already on your while she pressed her body against your, her hand tightened on your waist even more and her second hand embraced the back of your neck missing you softly.

you grinned when she started kissing you and you replied with the same gentle kiss, sevika kissed you like she was exploring softly new territory, excited and happiness filled your body just like hers. you wrapped your arms gently around sevika's neck bringing her closer to you. now you could respond to your question, her lips against your feels…amazing and you wish you could kiss those lips every day until you'll die.

sevika slowly moved away and her gaze immediately went to your eyes and she smiled, letting out a breath as the tension disappeared from her body as she did what she had wanted for a long time as she approached you; to kiss your lips "I like the taste of yours lips on mine" she said softly and you giggled "yeah, I can say that about yours too". for a moment you two were silent, just looking at each other's eyes.

sevika looked around and kissed the corner of your lips "you want to get to a warmer place, darlin'?" she asked and you nodded immediately answering "god, yes let's get out of here". The two of you grabbed your own hands together and returned to Ran's house to go upstairs. music was playing in the background and you could hear other people talking and laughing but you couldn't even care while sevika's hand were around yours and you two were going upstairs.

you entered the first room you found and sevika closed the door behind you two. your eyes met and sevika wrapped her arms around your waist bringing you again closer to her. you could feel that your heart was buzzing with excitement. sevika smiled looking at you and her thumb crossed a gentle circles on your waist. you leaned closer to her and you closed your lips in kiss this time it wasn't as soft as the first time, now it was more confident.

sevika's tongue brushed against your lower lip as if asking for access to your mouth, you let sevika's tongue slipped into your mouth and she started exploring your soft lips. at the feeling you let a soft quiet moan and you felt how sevika's hand tighten on your waist when she heard it.

unfortunately sevika pulled away and looked into your eyes "wait" she said and took a deep breath before she started speaking "before we will continue…this. I want to know if you really want this, sweetheart, If not I won't do anything without your permiss-" you cut her speaking with a kiss on her mouth. sevika raised her eyebrows "did you just kiss me to shut me up?" she asked and you shrugged "no?" you said with a smirk on your face. sevika huffed and rolled her eyes playfully

"sevy" you started with one of her nicknames you often used "I drank alcohol but i'm not that drunk to not have control over my body, yes i want to do it and I want you to continue this" while you were speaking sevika listen you carefully. she smiled and leaned to you "good, 'cause I want you to remember I'm gonna do to you right now" she whispered to your ear with her sultry voice and your body shivered.

she pulled you into a kiss, her lips where donating over yours and she started to tugging you into a bad which was at the end of the room. after a moment you felt a soft mattress under you and you could felt sevika's smile on your lips. you wrapped your arms around her neck while kissing her teasing the taste of her mouth. the heat between you two started to be more intense and overwhelming

"vika, I-…I want you" you whimpered into her lips and you could hear a soft little moan that escape sevika's lips. "I know, baby, I want you too" she murmured into your lips and she moved away just enough to look at you. both of you were looking into each other's eyes.

sevika's rough, sultry, hoarse voice filled the room when she started to speak looking straight into your eyes "I want to taste you, darlin'" she murmured and you smiled. with a smile on your face you started to take off your white top while keeping eye contact with sevika all the time. sevika growled when she saw that you do it really slowly just to tease her, she put her hands on yours and helps you to take faster your top off of you, her gaze leaned on your white bra with a bow between your tits and her lips stretched into a smirk

"you like it, huh?" you asked in a testing voice "you don't even know how much, baby" she murmured. she leaned closer to your neck and started to shower it firstly with soft kisses but the longer she was kissing you the passionately her kisses were getting. you moaned and placed your hand on her back. you could feel how sevika's hand on the back of your bra was unbuttoning it, easily taking it off of you and she threw your bra somewhere behind you two, she didn't even care where it would fall.

one of her large hand cupped your breast and you moaned feeling the heat that was between you two. you slipped your hands underneath sevika's shirt and tugged at it "sevika, take if off" you whimpered to her "no way in hell that you're undressing me and you'll stay in your clothes" sevika chuckled at your words, she kissed you on your lips and her hand squeezed your breast before she moved away and with a quick move she took off her shirt with a smirk on her lips clearly knowing you wanted to see her naked as much as she wanted to see you naked and beneath her.

"Whatever you say, baby" she said with a smile on her face and you could see a twinkle in her eye with excitement.

you rolled your eyes playfully seeing her that smirk and you grabbed her by her shoulders and you attracted her to another sloppy, passionate kiss. it wasn't that long until sevika started to kiss your neck again, then your shoulders, she went even lower having her head now between your breasts she she moved her head towards the right side and she filled your nipple with her lips sucking on it while her hand trapped your left breast and squeezed it and you let out a moan at the movement's

you felt how sevika bite your breast not enough to hurt you but enough to feel it, then with a crack she left her lips from your nipple and started to kiss your body lower, lower and lower showing to every centimeter of your body her love to you and how much. she worshiped you. you could feel how your core started to clench around nothing and pulsing turned on by sevika's movement. you couldn't wait when sevika would wrap her lips around your pussy and eat you out.

"sev" you moaned and you moved your hips frustrated and horny "please" you whimpered to her and you heard sevika's lower chuckle. "please what, baby? use words from the pretty mouth of you" she said smiling waiting for you to say what she really wanted to hear. "I need you, I need you sevika…please, sevy" you said to her and she smiled at your words "good" she murmured and she slipped her hands to your skirt and started to remove it off of you "legs up, darling" she said to you and you do it. With a quick move she removed it from you and threw it away.

sevika's gaze leaned on your light underwear and saw a small patch of your visible arousal, she smiled and the view and chuckled "damn, girl, you are already wet" she teased you and you moaned feeling a shiver that comes down to your core "shut up, sev, don't tease me" you whimpered to her. right now at this moment the only thing you wanted and needed is sevika between your legs.

sevika smiled and she slid off the bed only to kneel between your spread legs, she couldn't just wait to lay down her mouth on your clit but you have to wait just a little longer. she wrapped her muscular arms around your thighs and she pulled you closer to her and thanks to it sevika's head was between your inner thighs and you could even feel her breath on your skin.

"sevika" you moaned and slipped your hand to her black hair and she purred in approval at the move "hm?" she murmured looking up to you and your eyes looked down. god damn, sevika looked so hot between your legs you could come just by looking at her between your legs in front of your wet clint.

"…please" you whimpered and both of you couldn't wait any longer. sevika slid one of her hand under the waistband of your underwear and took off your underwear after a while. now while you were laying in front of her, naked, she'd felt a shiver down her spine as a wave of excitement, arousal and desire flooded her body.

"im gonna take care of you now, okay baby?" sevika said to you and without waiting for you response she leaned closer to your pussy and she covered your pussy with her lips. you moaned and the new feeling of sevika's lips on your pussy, it felt so good that the only thing your mind could think and focus is sevika between your legs and her mouth on your pussy.

At first, her sucking and licking was slow, as if she was enjoying her favorite dessert but when she felt how you tugged her by her hair as a quiet 'faster' she smirked and murmured between her licks "you want faster, baby, yeah?" you only could moan at her words and push her face further into your pussy

sevika moaned too and she didn't hesitate to go faster. her tongue rode between your folds then her mouth sucked your package. she was fully enjoying herself just by teasing you. you could feel how your orgasm started to come and you moaned "sevika…sevika, i'm close" you said to her and you only felt how her tongue started to work even faster sending a whole new heat towards your body.

to add more pleasure for you, sevika placed her thumb on your clit and started circling it. you moaned at the feeling and your thighs started to tremble a little showing that you are getting closer to orgasm, sevika notice's it and smiled murmured into your clit without stopping her movements "c'mon, sweetheart, come for me" she murmured and only a few moment's It was enough for you to come with a moan, barely able to keep from closing your legs around Sevika's face.

you groaned, rolling your eyes back as you laid your head on the mattress as you recovered from your orgasm trying to steady your breath. sevika smiled looking up at you observing how your body reacted after she brought you pleasure. she got up from her knees and leaned over until she was above you, with a smile on her face she leaned and kissed you on your lips and you could tease the feeling of your pleasure.

"you're the prettiest mess, baby" sevika whispered to you and gave you a kiss on the forehead. You smiled softly at her words and sighed after the orgasm. but then you tense up a little remembering that…both of you haven't told each other anything yet whether you are friends or... maybe something more, but after all of this you could sense that sevika wanted you as much as you wanted her.

"…sevika" you stated, sevika hearing you didn't call her by one of her nicknames that you gave her she frowned a little and became more serious "yeah, baby?" she asked so easily using one of the pet names she knew you loved.

"what...what are we?" you asked her. you were thinking that she would tense like you but no, she only smiled even more and chuckled slightly "you know what we are you just want to hear it" she said to you and leaned closer to you. her gaze slipped down to your lips and then to your eyes "I love you" she said with a gentle look at her eyes and you could feel happiness on your chest. "i love you too, sevy" you replied to her and kissed her gently on her lips "…so we're girlfriends?" you whispered and sevika nodded with a big, delicate smile on her face "yeah. you're my girlfriend, baby" she said to you and she captured your lips in a kiss to seal her words.

#sevika #sevika arcane #sevika x female reader #sevika x fem #sevika x you #sevika x reader #arcane #arcane sevika #arcane season two #sevika smut #arcane season 2 #lesbian #hanni's blog🎀

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goldsainz · 2 days ago

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# HIGH INFIDELITY — CHAPTER TWO !

SERIES MASTERLIST !

001. SUMMARY !

✯ rafe’s feelings are conflicting, both for him and for you.

002. WARNINGS !

✯ nothing, i think.

003. NOTE !

✯ kinda filler (but not actually) chapter

word count : 1,6k words

Rafe Cameron likes to pretend that nothing in the world can hurt him, that nothing can truly bother him. Though he does hate, and he hates a lot. He hates the shrill sound of Rose’s voice, he hates the expectations Ward places on him, but most of all, he hates not having control. And tonight, at the party at Tannyhill, it feels like control is slipping through his fingers.

The party is everything Rafe Cameron loves and hates about his life rolled into one. On the surface, it’s perfect—just the right mix of chaos and control. The music is loud enough to drown out any awkward silences, the drinks flow as freely as the insults behind polished smiles, and every person in the room knows their place, even if they won’t admit it.

Rafe thrives in this world, the effortless ruler of his gilded kingdom, but tonight something is off. His usual sense of control feels… frayed, like a taut wire on the verge of snapping. He leans casually against a wall, scanning the room, and his jaw tightens when his eyes land yet again on Joshua Diaz.

Josh has always been likable in that unassuming, easygoing way—popular without being cocky, charming without trying. It’s infuriating, really, how people just gravitate toward him, and now you have fallen for his charm too. Because of course you have.

Rafe’s eyes follow you both as you weave through the crowd, your laughter bubbling up every time Josh leans in to whisper something. It’s a sound that cuts through the haze of noise, sharp and impossible to ignore. And Rafe hates that he notices it.

He tells himself it’s not jealousy. It’s something else—something easier to swallow, like irritation. Annoyance at Josh for bringing her here, into his space, when you so clearly don't belong. You’re a Pogue, for crying out loud. What is Josh even thinking?

But deep down, Rafe knows it’s not just about you being a Pogue. It’s the way you carry yourself, like you're unaware of the lines you’ve crossed just by stepping into his house. Like you don't care. It’s the way you laugh, uninhibited and real, in a way that no one in his world ever does. It’s the way you look at Josh, eyes bright and full of warmth that Rafe hasn’t seen directed at himself in years.

It’s maddening.

He shifts his weight, arms crossed over his chest, as he watches Josh place a hand on her back, guiding her through the crowd with ease. Rafe clenches his jaw, a low simmer of frustration building in his chest.

What does he see in you?

The question gnaws at him, and he hates that he’s even asking it. Hates that he’s wasting mental energy on a girl who should be nothing more than a passing annoyance. Yet he can’t stop watching you, can’t stop the irrational churn of emotions every time you smile at Josh like he’s the only person in the room.

He convinces himself it’s not about you. It’s about Josh. It’s about protecting his friend from making a mistake, from getting too close to someone who could never understand their world.

You’re looking out for him, Rafe tells himself, though the words ring hollow.

Rafe tears his gaze away, forcing himself to look anywhere but at you. The room feels suffocating now, the press of bodies and the buzz of conversation blending into a dull roar in his ears. He grabs a drink from the table beside him, more out of habit than thirst, and downs it in one sharp gulp. The burn of alcohol barely registers; his mind is too tangled in thoughts he refuses to name.

It shouldn’t matter to him. You shouldn’t matter to him. Yet, as much as he tries to push the feelings down, they bubble up like a poison he can’t shake. Every laugh, every fleeting touch between you and Josh grates on him, a reminder of just how out of control he feels tonight.

And control is everything to Rafe Cameron.

He sets the empty glass down harder than necessary, drawing a glance from one of the partygoers nearby. He ignores it, his attention already drifting back to you despite himself. You're standing near the pool now, the soft glow of the lights casting a golden hue over your skin. Josh is still by your side, but his focus has shifted to someone else. You’re alone, if only for a moment.

The logical part of Rafe tells him to let it go, to stay where he is and let the night play out. But another part—a louder, more reckless part—urges him forward. Before he can second-guess himself, he’s moving through the crowd, weaving between groups of people with single-minded determination.

When he reaches you, you don’t notice him at first, your gaze fixed on the water as you swirl the drink in your hand. There’s a calmness about you, an ease that feels so foreign in this world of his. For a moment, Rafe hesitates, caught between wanting to ruin it and wanting to understand it.

“You look out of place,” he says finally, his voice low but cutting.

You turn, startled, and meet his eyes. There’s no fear there, no shrinking under his scrutiny. Instead, you raise an eyebrow, your lips curving into the faintest hint of a smirk.

“And yet, here I am,” you reply, seemingly unfazed.

The simplicity of your response throws him. Most people would stumble over themselves trying to appease him, but not you. You hold your ground, unbothered, and it both infuriates and intrigues him.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he says, though the words come out weaker than he intends.

“Neither should you,” you counter, tilting your head. “You don’t even look like you’re enjoying your own party.”

Rafe opens his mouth to respond, but for once, he’s at a loss. You’re not wrong—he hasn’t enjoyed a single second of tonight. Yet, as much as he wants to push you away, he finds himself rooted in place, unwilling to leave.

“Maybe I’m just trying to figure out why Josh brought you here,” he says, falling back on the sharp edge of his words.

For a moment, he thinks he sees a flicker of amusement in your eyes. “Maybe you should ask him,” you say lightly. “Or is it easier to corner me instead?”

Rafe’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t respond. He doesn’t know how to. For all his bravado, all his carefully crafted masks, he feels exposed under your gaze, as if you can see straight through him.

And he hates that too.

For a moment, the world around you seems to fade, the noise of the party muffled by the weight of the silence between you and Rafe. His sharp blue eyes hold yours, and though he tries to mask it, there’s something raw and unspoken lingering there—something that sets your nerves on edge and makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Neither of you say a word, but the tension is palpable, stretching between you, ready to snap.

Then, like a switch being flipped, your expression changes. The barely-there softness in your gaze hardens. Without so much as a word, you turn your attention away from Rafe and lean into Josh. The move is deliberate, calculated, as if you’re making a point. You whisper something into Josh’s ear, your voice too low for Rafe to hear, but the intent behind it is clear.

Josh’s easy going demeanor shifts almost instantly. His brows furrow, and his head turns sharply in Rafe’s direction. There’s no mistaking the glint of surprise—and maybe a hint of irritation—in his eyes as they lock onto Rafe’s. Whatever you said, it’s enough to make Josh stand a little straighter, his shoulders squaring as he regards his friend with a newfound wariness.

Rafe stiffens under the weight of Josh’s gaze, his fists clenching at his sides. He feels exposed, like he’s just been caught in the act of something he can’t explain. The simmering frustration he’s been trying to suppress threatens to boil over, but he forces himself to stay composed. Barely.

Josh leans in closer to you, murmuring something he can’t quite catch, and you respond with a casual shrug, as if Rafe isn’t even worth a second thought. The sight of it—the ease with which you brush him off—grates on Rafe more than he cares to admit. It’s as if the two of you are speaking a language he doesn’t understand, leaving him on the outside looking in.

For the first time in a long time, Rafe Cameron feels like he’s lost control. And he hates it.

He hates that he can't tear his gaze away from the two of you as you weave once again through the crowd. Hates the way he barely moves from the spot he was standing, as if his feet are rooted to the floor by some invisible force, forcing him to watch you slip further away from him with each passing second.

The longer he watches, the more he feels himself unraveling. Every smile you share with Josh, every glance exchanged between the two of you, twists something inside him, something raw and unexplainable. He’s not supposed to care. He knows that. You’re just another person in his world, another blip in the endless sea of faces he can’t be bothered to remember. But tonight, it feels different.

And he can’t stand it.

#*ੈ✩༄ my works !#✶⋆*.ೃ high infidelity !#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe x reader #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe cameron obx #rafe fanfiction #outer banks x reader #outer banks x you #outer banks x y/n #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks #obx

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mawrmyy · 23 hours ago

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Gold Dust Woman || Rupert Campbell-Black x Taggie O'Hara

wc: 2.5k

warnings: 18+ minors dni !! this is basically just porn but they're so in love, oral f!receiving, fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up y'all!!), nicknames (Angel, Sweetheart), Rupert is WHIPPED

a/n: HI!! this is my first time publishing something in forever, and my first time EVER publishing something like this!! I'm trying not to be nervous about how well this does because honestly I had so much fun writing it! Hope you enjoy <3

link to this work on ao3

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“I can’t breathe without you,” Is what he’d told her, before kissing her until the both of them were breathless.

One hand around her waist, resting on her hip bone, while the other cups the back of her head tenderly. He’s licking into her mouth, a kiss that is all teeth and tongue and every ounce of desire that has piled up throughout these long months of watching from afar.

Rupert is a bad man. He knows it. He’d promised Declan that he wouldn’t touch Taggie, and at the time he really did plan to keep that promise.

But Christ, Taggie, with her copper hair and her golden freckles, with the loveliest goddamn smile he’s ever seen. Who’s lips he just found out taste like cherries and sunshine and yeah, he’s fucked. Absolutely, irrevocably fucked.

She’s the first to break away, gasping for air. Rupert rests his forehead against hers, praying she doesn’t notice the slight tremble in his hands where they rest upon her body.

“Come over,” he whispers against her lips. “When the party’s over, I mean. If you’d like.” He can see a flash of hesitation in Taggie’s eyes, but just as quickly as it came, it’s replaced with something else, something deliciously sinful.

“Okay,” She tells him with a soft smile on her kiss-bruised lips. Rupert huffs out a relieved laugh before ducking down to kiss her once again, this time slower and sweeter, savoring the taste of her on his lips.

There are footsteps nearby, faint voices growing louder, and Taggie jumps away from him, straightening out her blue dress. He immediately misses the warmth of her in his hands, the way her body felt beneath his fingertips, internally cursing the bastards who dare disrupt this moment. He clears his throat, trying to act as natural as possible, picking up a bottle of wine from the table and reading the list of ingredients.

Taggie washes her hands in the kitchen sink, splashing cold water on her face and steadying herself against the marble counter.

Charles walks into the kitchen with Caitlin beside him, talking about God knows what. They stop rambling when they notice Rupert and Taggie’s decidedly unnatural stances.

“We were just–” Caitlin says after an uncomfortably long pause, bursting into a fit of giggles before she can finish her sentence.

“Just grabbing a glass of water!” Charles finishes for her, barely keeping his composure as a smile threatens to break out on his lips. Caitlin gives her sister a double thumbs-up before her and Charles run out of the kitchen, laughing loudly.

Taggie is looking down at her hands when Rupert glances back at her. He can make out the bright red flush of her cheeks, her eyes wide with embarrassment. He can’t help but smile to himself at the sight of her– the way she’s practically glowing under the warm yellow fluorescents, how she looks like the sun itself.

He comes to stand behind her, hands finding her waist once again like a moth to flame. His fingers move to brush her hair to one side and he presses his lips to the back of her neck, lingering there for a long moment before whispering into her skin.

“I’ll be waiting, Angel,” he says, before disappearing back into the crowd in the other room.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

He’s a bad man, is what Rupert thinks to himself as he paces around his sitting room, mindlessly biting his thumb. Of course Taggie wouldn’t come. What was he thinking to himself, asking that of her? She must’ve come to her senses. After all, he’s rotten, tainted, old. Old enough to be her father. Christ, he’s a bloody idiot.

A knock at the door shakes Rupert from his thoughts. He rushes towards it, swinging it open quickly. The second he sees her standing under the doorframe his heart warms, all of those dreadful thoughts he’d had just a moment before dissolving immediately.

“I’m so sorry,” Taggie apologizes breathlessly. “Daddy drank too much and insisted he wasn’t tired, he just wouldn’t go to sleep. And Caitlin, she kept nagging me, asking where I was going and I just couldn’t get her to stop,” She keeps yammering, and Rupert just smiles, eyes scanning her face, her freckles, her lips.

“Taggie–” He tries to interrupt, but she keeps blabbering out apologies. Saying something about having to clean the kitchen. His smile grows wider, fonder, on his lips.

“Tag.” Rupert says, firmer this time. She finally pauses, catching her breath and looking up at him. “It’s alright,” He assures her softly, before cupping her cheek in the palm of his hand. She melts against him, nestling into his warm skin.

They stay like that for a moment, gazing into the other’s eyes, relishing this fleeting feeling for as long as they can.

Taggie is the first to lean in, tilting her face up and rising to her tiptoes. Rupert catches her lips with his, kissing her softly. She tastes so sweet, like citrus fruit and everything he’s ever wanted.

The kiss is gentle and tender and it’s not enough. Taggie’s fingers curl into his shirt, pulling him closer to her. His hands greedily roam all over her body— neck, chest, back, hips, arse. She’s still wearing the same blue dress she wore at the party, and Rupert feels absolutely feral, gripping the back of her thighs hungrily.

He drinks her down like smooth whiskey. He can’t seem to get enough.

Taggie breaks away from him for just a moment.

“Bedroom,” She gasps out breathlessly, before wasting no time and kissing him again. The two of them scramble to his room, laughing into the other’s mouth at every item of furniture that they knock down on their way there.

Rupert pauses when they reach the doorway, taking the time to kiss her properly, devouring her like a man starved. Still, there’s something sweet about it, how he takes her bottom lip between his teeth, the curl of her fingers on the nape of his neck.

With a surge of confidence, Taggie unbuttons and shucks Rupert’s trousers and pants down, planting her hands on his chest and guiding him to sit on the edge of the bed. She blushes furiously as she toys with the buttons of his shirt, her lovely fingers trembling just slightly. He smiles fondly at her, and she smiles back nervously.

A single, reckless thought crosses his mind—

Mine.

Taggie pushes Rupert’s shirt over his shoulders, fingers tracing over the defined muscles of his upper back. He melts like butter in her hands, letting her mould him to her liking.

With Taggie standing between his thighs and his clothes discarded somewhere on the tiled flooring, he hesitantly runs the pads of his fingers over the line of her collar bone, following its trail to the sleeves of her dress. He looks at her, waiting for approval. The decisive nod of her head is all the confirmation he needs before slipping her dress down her body.

She’s standing almost completely bare before him, cheeks flushed rosy-pink, and he’s sure he looks like a disheveled mess because fuck, she’s heavenly. The northern lights, the stars, every wonder of the world pales in comparison to the sight before him.

“Oh, Tag,” He says breathlessly, before pulling her down and kissing her hungrily. His cock is impossibly hard by now, and Taggie takes notice, stroking him lightly. Rupert groans as soon as she touches him, and he can feel her smile against his lips.

She stands up straight, guiding him to sit against the headboard of the bed. He complies easily, but not before taking her with him, tugging her into his lap so that her thighs straddle his middle. She laughs at his eagerness, and the sound of it is like windchimes, like goddamn music to his ears. He kisses her neck, right below her jaw, and she lets out a content sigh, her eyes fluttering closed for just a moment.

He guides Taggie’s hips with his large hands, rocking her back and forth on his lap. He can feel how wet she is through her plain cotton panties. Her small, breathy moans make him see stars.

Normally, he’d take his time. Tease her until her lashes are dewy from tears, make her fall apart with his fingers, his tongue, before finally sinking into her. But tonight he’s impatient. He’s just a man, is what he’d like to say, but honestly he’s not so sure if that’s true. Tonight he feels so animalistic, so feral for her, that he’s not so sure he’s even human anymore. After all these months of secret glances and fisting his cock late at night to the thought of her– he needs her now.

In one swift motion, Rupert rips her panties off, tossing the torn fabric to the floor. Taggie lets out a small gasp, and he can’t help the smug grin that curls onto his lips. She leans down and kisses it right off, still slowly grinding her wet cunt over his dick.

It seems he’s not the only one that’s desperate tonight, because moments later she takes him into her hand and lines his tip with her weeping hole. She sinks down onto him slowly, panting out shallow breaths, and Rupert’s fingers dig into the fat of her hips because Jesus Christ, if he doesn’t steady himself he’s going to come right now.

And she looks like an angel on top of him, glowing under the pale moonlight, and he wishes he could worship her like she deserves, but right now he’s just desperately focused on not blowing his load.

His fingers travel from her navel up her soft tummy, cupping her perfect tits, before descending once again and drawing slow circles on her clit. Her eyes squeeze shut at the delicious pressure, and Rupert swears he’s positively drunk on her. She's so tight around him, so wet and warm, and she looks like sunshine incarnated and feels like everything he’s been missing.

“Tag–” He rasps out, “Fuck, please– slow down, sweetheart–” but she can’t hear him, her ears ringing at the overwhelming pleasure when he hits that sensitive spot inside her.

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to think of anything other than how it feels like she was made for him.

But he fails.

He comes with a guttural groan, painting the inside of her cunt white. He covers his eyes with his hands out of embarrassment as he feels Taggie’s movements come to a sudden stop above him. The room goes completely silent for a few moments.

When he looks at her, she’s staring at him with her eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Did you just–” She starts, and Rupert grunts shamefully.

“Shit, Tag, I’m sorry,” He apologizes softly. Her expression remains the same, and Rupert wants to bash his head into the nearest wall. “I’ve never– this has never happened before. I don’t know what– fuck, I don’t know what’s wrong with me,”

Rupert may be an asshole, but even he is well-mannered enough to make a woman come at least twice before he even lets himself think about his own pleasure. He expects Taggie to be angry. Perhaps a slap to his cheek. God knows he deserves to have some sense slapped into him.

His heart tightens at the sound of soft laughter above him. She’s giggling, pink lips parted and eyes sparkling brightly. She leans down to kiss him, and he lets her, cupping the back of her head in the palm of his hand.

“You’re not mad?” He asks when they part, and her brow furrows as if he’s just asked her whether or not pigs can fly.

“Of course not,” She replies, so sweetly and earnestly that he has to physically hold back from saying those three words he’s been itching to tell her for a long while now.

“Besides,” She continues, the corners of her lips turning slightly up. “I think it’s kind of sexy, how you can’t resist,”

Rupert huffs out a laugh, quickly maneuvering the two of them so that he lays on top of her. Taggie squeals at the sudden movement, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Good,” He tells her, trailing kisses down her body until he’s sitting on his knees between her legs, “Because you can hardly blame me, Angel.” He takes her foot in his hands, placing the heel to rest on his shoulder and pressing a tender kiss to the ankle. He continues kissing and nipping up her thigh, higher and higher and—

“Oh!” Taggie says with a gasp, just as he nearly reaches her core. Rupert halts his movements.

“You don’t have to– I mean, no one’s ever done that for me before–” She mumbles, and he smiles, cutting her off by pressing a feather-light kiss to her inner thigh.

“Idiots,” He mutters into her skin, souring at the thought of Ralphie and how he most likely never considered Taggie’s pleasure before his own, if at all.

“Please,” He says. “Let me make it up to you, Angel,” He scans her face, waiting for her reaction. She lets out a shaky breath, before giving him a single nod.

He wastes no time, flattening his tongue and licking a long stripe from her pussy up to her clit. She lets out a loud moan, her hands flying to his hair. She tugs at his dark locks in an attempt to pull him impossibly closer. Rupert loses himself in her, lapping at her sweet juices. He looks up at Taggie from where he is between her thighs, watching her freckled chest rise in fall with every gasp of air she breathes.

Her whines are the sweetest poison, and he hums into her wet heat, completely surrounded by her. His large hand snakes around her to squeeze the soft flesh of her arse, and he can feel her breath hitching, cunt tightening around his tongue. He presses a kiss to her clit, pushing two long fingers into her entrance and curling them inside her, searching for the spot that’ll make her scream.

Taggie’s getting close. He can feel it with the way she clenches around him. Her moans get breathier, shorter, before she goes completely silent and still, eyes squeezed tightly shut.

Rupert climbs up the bed to kiss her, still pumping his fingers in and out of her, letting her ride out her high. She kisses him back with fervour, tasting herself on his tongue, and he groans into her mouth.

He wraps his arms around her, and she places a soft kiss to the center of his chest before resting her cheek there.

She feels like home, he thinks to himself over and over.

“Don’t get up tomorrow,” he tells her as he mindlessly traces patterns with his thumb on her bare back. She hums noncommittally in response, her own hand resting on his hip.

“I mean it, Tag,” He tells her. “Stay with me. Let me make you pancakes,” She’s quiet for a long moment, contemplating.

“Alright,” She says finally, and he can hear the smile in her voice. “As long as they’re not burnt,” She adds.

He snorts at the cheeky comment.

“No promises, Angel.”

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Hope you enjoyed this little drabble! I'm literally so obsessed with these two it's not even funny 😵‍💫

#rivals #rivals disney #disney rivals #rupert campbell black #taggie o'hara #taggie x rupert #rupert x taggie #smut #rivals fanfiction #rivals smut #angelblack #rivals 2024 #alex hassell #bella maclean #fanfiction #fanfic

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yayll · 1 day ago

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heyyy! I just read ur rockstar!Dazai fic and it honestly reminded me of this idea I had!!! (loved the fic btw!) Are you able to write an actor!dazai x fem!actor reader and they r fake dating while secretly being rivals ?? (I’d like 2 be known as 🦎-anon!)

hiiii 🦎 anon hehe

i'm sorry this was quite the wait, i LOVED your idea and i wanted to write it properly and i kind of took some liberties so i hope you enjoy it regardless? thank you for trusting me w your fic idea actor!dazai now haunts me actually dazai in any like, imagine just fucks my shit up that man is a menace in any story i put him in and i'm so glad others agree. i love u baby mwah u get so many ivy kisses

~ a little something about you and actor!Dazai keeping up appearances ~

"You're choking meee!"

"I'm just fixing your tie, Osamu-"

"It's babe, actually."

"It's whatever I want if you want me to keep holding your hand in public, jerk."

He pouts at this. What a cute little meanie you were! Always scolding him and spewing empty threats as if you were hot shit. You were hot shit, and that was only the beginning of his problems... The biggest one right now being backstage with you while attending the hottest awards show of the year.

Just before he can respond, the curtains are drawn and it's a stagehand whisking you two away to present the next award infront of thousands of fans. You're walking side by side, your heels clicking with each step when Dazai leans in to whisper something.

"You should stand on my left, my right side is more attractive."

"We're both facing forward, does it matter?"

He raises a brow and huffs dramatically in typical Dazai fashion. You two had been 'dating' for a year now, everyone was invested in this blooming romance ever since you both started in that drama together, now it's nothing but red hearts for you two.

It wasn't planned, it just kind of happened... It also wasn't completely awful, but it was the goddamn ego on Dazai that really made you want to strangle him sometimes. He knew he was pretty and desired, and what a threat you were with such an iconic streak in all of your latest projects. No wonder you two had to be paired together, on your own you were both dynamite. An unstable formula that needed to be stabilized by combining it together. Thought could that make it worse?

You present the award holding hands the entire time, an act highly encouraged by the need to convince, and yet when it's you two doing it it never feels as forced as you'd like it to be. There is a comfortability in the role of this relationship, you've come to realize yet supress. You'll hold hands for so long you begin to get clammy, and it's certainly not because he dotes on you almost every time he speaks! Which he hates doing... It's just a script, after all. Duh.

You're both making your way out of the venue towards the car that awaits to drive you to the after party when you're ambushed by interviewers and hundreds of flashes that yell out speed questions.

"Does the beautiful couple have time to stop and answer a few things for us tonight!"

Dazai loves that shit. Of course he has the time, he doesn't care if you don't. He has to sell it, obviously, since you don't put in the effort according to him. He flashes the interviewer that sardonic little smirk you hate and speaks innocently.

"Why, us? Sure! Right, honey?"

He turns to you and the crowd loves it. You hold back how badly you want to roll your eyes and simply smile, holding yourself high with grace and a ton of media training.

"We'd love to."

The interviewer is overjoyed as she looks between you and Dazai, taking in that affection that radiates from your false words. She grins as she goes along to ask her question.

"So, I think a lot of the fans are wondering..."

You and Dazai perk up, not even realizing that you're clutching the bottom of your dress so tighty that your knuckles are white. The interviewer looks directly at you.

"The two of you have been the most stunning couple the industry has seen in a while. Any plans for the future?"

You freeze. Ugh, not this again. You shake your head, smirking to yourself at the absurdity of the concept alone.

"Thank you, but honestly we're just taking things day by day. There's no rush between us, we have all we need right here and now."

The journalist smiles again and nods, seemingly impressed by your laid back attitude. Dazai snorts and suddenly interjects, clearly having a cheeky response to give to the crowd of journalists.

"We'll have tons of kids in the future, actually~"

Your panic is so instant that you literally laugh out loud, yet recover quickly by turning your shock into a playful glance at your lover. You manage a more sweet giggle and smack him on the chest a little harder than people would guess.

"Ooh, he's joking, of course."

The journalist rejoices, finding your banter and your overall interaction as a couple cute. The ideal power couple! Dazai grins and turns to you again, leaning in to tease you, his narrowed Hazelnut eyes piercing into you like a promise.

"Not joking. One day we're going to have a massive pack of little kids running around. And it's going to be your fault for being sooo cute~"

And with that, he leans in all the way into a million dollar kiss on your confused and parted lips. You're taken so offguard you almost fall back and of course grab onto him a little tighter... and run your fingers through his disheveled hair you forgot to nag him to cut... As the cameras go off like crazy, you wonder if it's worth ruining your public image for a while just so you can slap him harder than you ever have before.

Everyone's cooing and you're fuming, so you settle for a quick thank you and goodbye as you drag Dazai off the red carpet and into the car. He's giggling the entire time, of course. As soon as the door shuts out the screaming fans watching you drive off, you turn to Dazai and whisper ardently.

"What was that all about?! We didn't discuss this prior to-"

"... You liked it."

"Huh?"

"You liked it when I kissed you."

You scoff, though it sounds like you're choking.

"I did not. I just did what I had-"

"... And you want to have my babies. That's adorable, how devoted of you!"

You smack him on the arm but he's smiling like a cat who's had too much catnip, too far gone into his delusions to care about the repercussions. Love is love, after all...

"I think we should break up, like officially. You're nuts. The press won't let that go, Osamu."

He perks up, snapping out of his stasis and crinkles his nose in disapproval. He shakes his head, his hand on his chin as if in deep thought. Dazai mutters, barely above a whisper.

"... We won't actually break up, though."

"And why not?"

"Because in about 60 seconds we're going to kiss again and you'll be clinging onto me the entire night."

You snort into a laugh, tilting your head in disbelief. The car slowly comes to a halt as you arrive at the after party where a familiar roar of the crowd awaits to greet you once more. You begin your futile argument yet again.

"I don't see why I would do that."

At such a silly reply, Dazai softens his voice, looking at you like he first did when you both met on set a year ago. A lifetime ago. You're so cute when you're playing dumb. He shrugs, carefree.

"Neither do I, which is why I want to know too. I want to know what you're thinking about, if it's me."

You hate the way he sounds so sincere, like a real boyfriend would if he were trying to convince you you're just as into him as he is into you. Mind games is what it is, or at least you hope so. You really hope so.

You sigh, suddenly over the conversation as you open the car door to begin climbing out. Dazai follows suit and the roar of the crowd makes your chest feel tight as overstimulation takes over. You want to be anywhere but here and you wonder if you're having some sort of panic attack, but it just doesn't feel describable.

You turn wildly, disoriented by the camera flashes and instant fuss of the press, only to be faced by your one and only savior: the omnipotent Osamu Dazai. You don't know what it is about him in that moment, you just glide into his arms and complete the prophecy as you hook your arm with his, taking deep breaths as you finally ground yourself. It feels like the right kind of wrong, and you don't care to question it.

You feel a squeeze and a soft velvety voice whisper to you once again, you don't even have to look at him to know he's as smug as ever. But amongst the teasing, there's affection there too...

"So, am I?"

"Are you what, Osamu?"

"On your mind."

"At this point you're practically a permanent resident."

You hear him hum, a smile still present on his lips, the world simply frozen for him to continue his private conversation with you in public.

"Hmm, remind me to have you repeat that to me later."

This causes you to squeeze his arm back and murmur in genuine curiosity, finally daring to face him. He's already looking right at you, so devilish and angelic at the same time that you can't even look away.

"Why?"

"Because your time's up. 60 seconds, remember? Now come and kiss me already, the camera's are waiting~"

The photos of you two that night were the envy of couples everywhere. If only they knew how the ride back to the hotel went, it would be a scandal! Or simply the next step in your future?

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