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classyrbf · 4 months ago

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COME HOME! — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...you’re afraid one day he won’t come home, leaving you in a constant state of worry and fear of what could happen especially with his family in on the line

INFO...toji fushiguro x ex assassin fem!reader, fluff with some angst, domestic relationship, megumi is readers bio kid, toji an assassin, mentions of blood, sweet ending, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

i'm sorry for being gone for so long and not writing anything or even sticking to my kinktober plan, quite literally fell into a black hole of unmotivation and writing smut was not helping at all lmao

The night was brutal, cold air striking your skin and the winds were sharp. Yet, you sat by the cracked window, your skin felt like it was on fire. Police sirens flooded the silence and the small dim lamp did its best to light up the room. With your knees tucked to your chest, you sat and watched the cars drive by, one of the streetlights flickering every now and again. Little Megumi slept soundly in his room, tucked warmly in his bed with his favorite stuffed dinosaur. You had been up for hours, waiting for Toji to come back home from his job.

You lived with worry that one day he wouldn’t show up, come back home to you and his son. What he did was dangerous, being an assassin and what not. He always brags about how he’s the best, so fast and strong, silent as a mouse that most of them don’t even get the chance. But, what if there’s someone out there who is strong enough to put up a fight? What if he gets caught? Seriously injured? That’s what makes you worry. You knew what you were getting yourself into from the moment you met him because you also used to be an assassin, but as soon as you found out you were pregnant, that lifestyle was cut short. You’d never do anything to put your son in danger.

Many talks between you Toji about changing what he does, doing something better, safer, always led to arguments. It’s like killing was the only thing he knew how to do. It’s sad to say. But you couldn’t help but love him, and worry for him, care for him. You only wanted Megumi to be safe. The job was a dangerous one. Creating enemies along the way, a target painted on your head. You just needed him to come home. Nervously biting at your nails, your eyes scanned the streets and tops of the grungy apartment buildings. You always wanted to move out of this damn city, but Toji said it’d be too obvious if you two moved somewhere nice, somewhere you couldn’t blend in. As much as you hate to admit it, he was right. You just didn’t want Megumi growing up here, turning out like you or his father. You wanted better for your son.

The rattling of the doorknob makes your head spin, jumping to your feet before even thinking. You were on full alert, hoping whoever walks in was your husband and your husband only. Your eyes narrowed, the bulky frame of Toji stumbling through the doorway, his skin pale and shining with sweat. He slammed the door behind him, groaning in pain as he dragged his feet across the floor and to the nearest chair. He didn’t look too well.

Immediately, you walked out of the living room and into the kitchen, assessing him with a worried look in your eye. “Toji, baby?” You nearly fall over when you cup his face, his nose bloody and lip busted. You don’t even notice he’s holding his side. “What the fuck happened?” You’re cupping his face, eyes scanning his finger when you see the copious amounts of blood on his hands. Lifting his shirt, you see the huge gash on his side. “Fucking hell.”

“Missed you too, sweets,” he struggles to even speak, letting out a pained sigh. “Where’s the kid?” He asks, looking at you rummaging through the cabinets for the first aid kit.

“He’s fine, sleeping. Why?” You glance over your shoulder, snatching the first aid off of the shelf. You kneel in front of him, taking the bottle of alcohol and pouring it straight onto the wound.

“Fuck!” He screams, slamming his hand on the table. “Son of a bitch!” He hisses, clenching his eyes shut. “Could’ve warned me, you know?” He breathed heavily, his chest heaving up and down.

“Would’ve been worse if I did. Answer my questions,” you demand, wiping the blood around his wound while applying pressure.

“Fucker that got me knew about you and the kid. Though…shit—thought someone else might’ve came after you two. I tried getting here as fast as I could,” he sighs. His eyes flutter shut, clenching his fists so hard the whites of his knuckles show. “Don’t worry, I killed him. Obviously.”

“Yeah, he still fucked you up pretty good though.” You shake your head, grabbing the bandage and placing it over the gash. “I told you Toji, we need to leave, find somewhere safer, better. You need to quiet this shit, okay? We got a fucking kid to look out for—”

“Mommy? Daddy?” The soft sound of Megumi’s voice made you spin. He rubs his tired eyes, clinging onto his stuffed dinosaur. “Is daddy okay? I heard him yell.”

“I’m okay, Megs.” Toji flashes a smile. “Mommy’s just helping me with something and then I’ll come tuck you back in, alright? Go back to bed.” He points back to his room.

“Daddy’s okay, baby,” you say softly. Megs just nods and tiredly shuffles back into his room. A deep sigh escapes your lips as you wrap the gauze tightly around his torso before cutting it with the scissors and tucking it under. You toss the scissors to the floor, standing back to your feet to rid your hands of his blood. This is what you were afraid of. This is what you didn’t want. You were a mother now and you knew just how cruel this world was.

You take a rag and wet it under the water before gently lifting his chin, and wiping the blood from his nose. You’ve done this too many times before, it was practically like muscle memory. Stitching yourself up, wiping the blood that seeped into your skin and now you’re doing the same for him. His hands find your waist, squeezing gently while you stand between his legs and Toji forgets about the pain for a moment. His glossy eyes look up at you and he realizes what he has. A wife, a son, a family who cares about him, loves him. You’re always so gently yet so affirmative and he’s reminded why he fell in love with you. You make up every part of him that was missing.

“I’m sorry.” His voice and raspy and delicate. “I know I scared you when I walked through the door like this.” He gently grabs your wrist, pulling your hand from his face. “Look at me, baby.” And when your eyes meet his, he can tell just how worried you are, how much you’re hiding just to seem strong. “I’m sorry.”

Tears well up in your eyes and they’re falling before you could blink them away. “I’m so scared you won’t walk through the door one day, Toji. I wait by the window, watching and listening. Looking out for our baby boy. I don’t want that day to come when you’re not here because of this stupid fucking job,” you cry, looking away from him as you sob into your hands.

His heart breaks at your cries, pulling you down into his chest despite the pain he’s in because he couldn’t care less about that right now. He soothingly rubs your back, placing a kiss on your head. “We’ll leave tomorrow. Everything. Move somewhere else. Start a new life. I fucking promise you. I should’ve listened to you before and I’m so sorry.” His voice shakes with each word. “You don’t know how scared I was to walk in here thinking something might’ve happened to you and Megs. Just thinking about that…fuck…I can’t imagine.” He shakes his head. You cling onto him, holding him tightly. “I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too,” you sniffle. Lifting your head, you gently caress his cheek with the pad of your thumb, searching his eyes and you see is sadness and sincerity. “Tomorrow. Promise?”

“I promise, baby. Me, you, and the kid. We’ll all get outta here. Go somewhere nice. Maybe a beach, watch him play in the sand?” Toji chuckles. You nod, laughing. “There’s that smile,” he says.

“Daddy?” The little patters of Megumi’s feet make their way into the kitchen. “Are you still gonna tuck me in?” He pouts.

Toji looks at you and then at his son. You hop off of his lap and he stands up as if nothing is wrong, but still walking with a slight limp and his hand holding his side. “Come here, kid.” He scoops him up with arm like he weighed nothing. “How about you sleep with me and mommy tonight, huh?” He reaches to ruffle Megumi’s hair. You walk over to the both of them, your chest feeling warm, a smile adorning your face. Megumi leans his head on Toji’s shoulder, quickly shutting his eyes. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

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madaqueue · 5 months ago

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gn!reader - 18+, MDNI (not quite somno but like…adjacent lmao)

you just look perfect like this - your back arched, ass sitting so tauntingly high in the air, chest rising and falling slowly, steadily, the exact opposite of the beating muscle thrumming so loudly in satoru’s chest he worries it might just burst.

he knew he was late coming home - missions just seem to take longer and longer these days, and a few years ago he surely would’ve just booked a hotel and stayed the night a few hours away.

but now he can’t. not when he has you to come home to.

stubborn, silly you. he told you not to wait up; he knows how you struggle to sleep without him next to you, as though you felt his absence through your dreams. so he knows you haven’t been getting enough rest, but a part of him also knows you, which is why he can’t help the smile that slowly spreads across his face as he quietly closes the front door to your shared home.

and there you are, asleep on your stomach, your phone resting on the couch next to you where it surely fell from your loosened grasp as you slipped into the comfort of unconsciousness.

how did he get so lucky?

the question replays in his mind as he slowly slides off his shoes, softly padding across the room until he’s standing next to you. up close, he can see the way your lips part slightly, a small spot of drool pooling at the corner, the quietest little snores vibrating in your throat.

do you know how perfect you are?

sometimes he wonders - he hopes you know. and if you don’t, he’ll be sure to tell you, everyday until the end of time. until you hear it in your dreams.

and he may be the strongest, but after a week away from you having to prove it, he’s tired of using his strength; right now, he just wants to melt into your softness. he doesn’t want to fight his desires anymore.

his body rests on top of yours easily, blanketing you under his weight. you stir slightly, eyelids fluttering as you adjust to the new sensation before he whispers sweetly into your ear, “it’s okay, it’s just me, love.”

and that seems to calm you right back down, your muscles stilling as a sleepy grin settles across your lips.

so, so perfect.

when you adjust your hips, unknowingly grinding up against him, his breath catches in his throat. how easily you have this effect on him - he was already hard just from seeing you, and now he’s beginning to strain painfully against his uniform pants. he regrets not taking them off, too desperate to feel your warmth, too needy to hold you right this second, but it’s too late now, and he honestly can’t bring himself to get up from where he lays atop you.

long fingers trace along your cheeks, flushed warm in sleep. you let out the softest giggle, more of a sigh than anything, and satoru’s chest swells as his cock twitches. he can’t believe he ever went a week without you, and in this moment, he vows to never do it again (not that he thinks he could - even this brief stint apart had him practically losing his mind, his thoughts wandering to you ever free moment, fucking his fist every night to the thought of you).

when you adjust again, he can’t help let out a low groan at the slight friction, precum beginning to collect in his boxers. he needs you so fucking bad. but he just can’t bring himself to wake you - he knows how tired you must be to have fallen asleep here, after all, it’s the kind thing to do to let you rest, right?

fortunately, just as he internally battles against the needs of his increasingly aching cock, you shift beneath him.

your eyes crack open, catching a flash of white and blue in your blurry vision.

“hi toru,” you whisper, voice heavy with sleep.

“hi, my love,” he hums, pressing a kiss to your temple.

unfortunately, the action only further rubs his length along the curve of your ass, the feeling unmistakeable.

it makes you giggle. “miss me that much, hm?”

surely if your senses were less dulled by exhaustion, you’d see the way he blushes through a cheeky grin. “was it that easy to tell?”

“you’re always easy, baby,” you coo, before resting your eyes once again.

just as he acquiesces to his own defeat, you arch your back up further, slowly circling your hips against him. a smirk tugs across your lips as you steal a glance at him through lidded eyes.

oh, you are so, so perfect.

a/n: literally woke up from a nap thinking abt this ….need to be cuddled rn

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zorostitties · 8 days ago

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Aurora; 1 (m)

⤕ Your existence had been an endless night, where shadows whispered long forgotten secrets. Trapped in a golden cage, your fragile mind and shattered memories were chains that kept you from dreaming of freedom. Then, he appeared with the first light of dawn, like a gentle sun warming your cold skin. In his gaze, the promise of a new beginning; in his presence, the sunrise your soul had longed for.

In which Alucard saves you from Erzsebet.

pairing: alucard (castlevania) x (f) reader

genre: angst, romance, slow burn, eventual smut

warnings: violence/blood, explicit language, mental health issues, grief, physical abuse.

rating: 18+

word count: 5k

A/N: i made a post some days ago complaining that there weren't enough alucard fics on tumblr. because of that, a demon possessed me to write this story. i hope you'll like it so i can continue writing the next parts lmao ❤️ feedback is always MUCH appreciated! and, as usual, english is not my first language.

⤕ Chapters: check masterlist in bio! ⤕ Also on AO3

Before they gave you a name, they taught you the three simple rules for survival.

Don’t scream. Don’t cry. Don’t fight.

Those rules weren’t taught using words. You learned them as they were engraved on your skin, repeatedly. Night after night. Day after day. Teeth sinking on your neck sending shockwaves of pure pain through your body. Jaws so tight around your jugular that you couldn’t breathe anymore; made you desperately grasp for air in vain. The suction noise. You hated that noise. It was coming from you. The liquid dripping from your wound, warm and sticky, gluing your dress to your skin. The smell of iron. Pain pain pain pain pain. The intense headache that followed. The darkened vision, the dizziness. Your limbs losing all of their strength.

Then - pitch black unconsciousness.

You might’ve fought the first time it happened… or the first times. It is hard to remember. You struggled. You tried to push her away. You tried to punch her, claw her face, pull her hair. And that’s when you learned the don’t fight rule. Every time you put up some sort of resistance, she’d crush you with ten times more strength. You learned, very quickly, that having your blood sucked off wasn’t the worst she or her servants could do. You learned it after broken bones and pierced organs. You learned it after ripped teeth and hair.

You learned that she took pleasure in it.

She liked to see tears streaming down your face. She rejoiced every time you begged her to just let you die.

So, you learned. Don’t scream. Don’t cry.

If you stood still, if you offered no resistance, if you just let her have her way - it would be over quicker. You learned that your blood was valuable to her. You learned that not many things were valuable to her… but your blood, for some reason, was - even though you’d see her feeding from other girls as well.

However, you also learned that all these other victims would simply die after she fed off them. Not only her victims; the members of her entourage’s victims as well. They’d get pale and lifeless very quickly. They’d get thrown away after they stopped moving, their cheeks hollow and eyes rolled back.

You learned that you weren’t like them. For some reason, you always woke up the next day as if nothing happened. Cheeks still full. Skin still colored. Heart still beating.

Perhaps… perhaps that’s what made you valuable.

So you behaved.

They gave you a bed after a while. She realized that your blood tasted better if you were well fed, so the meals got more elaborate over time. She started complimenting you. She’d make you wear the most beautiful gowns. She’d make you sit by her side, silently, as she held her numerous balls. Her guests - her subjects - would bow after her, pledge loyalty, kiss her feet. Sometimes she accepted their words. Sometimes she killed them on the spot.

You’d sit there for hours, avoiding eye contact with anyone. Her abnormally tall figure projected a shadow over you. The sound of her voice made your skin crawl. Her smell made you want to vomit.

Still, you’d behave.

She’d turn to you after she was bored of talking or sick of feeding from other girls. Her hands were bigger than anyone you’ve ever seen; her claws, as sharp as an eagle’s. Her grip on you seemed to weigh tons.

With somewhat delicacy, she touched the necklace they made you wear that night. A huge ruby stone sitting over your collarbones.

“Ruby,” she said almost in a purr. “The same color of your delicious blood.”

A shiver ran down your spine.

“It sounds like a fitting name, My Queen.” The woman that never left her side commented. Her most loyal servant.

She chuckled, passing the tip of her tongue on her fangs.

“Indeed.”

That night, they gave you a name.

Jaw tightened around your jugular. No air. Pain pain pain pain pain. You didn’t fight back. You squeezed your eyes shut, tears falling silently down your cheeks. Headache. Dizziness.

And then - darkness.

“My sister, the moon, burns brightly tonight. She’s very excited, of course.”

The full moon, indeed, lightened the entire scenery, painting it in a gorgeous silver color. It reflected on Erszebet’s golden armor with a hauntingly beautiful glow. A soft breeze played with her white skirt as she gesticulated in her speech. She sounded tired, a calculated tone of hatred in her voice, as she explained in detail the revenge she’d take on her “father”, Amun-Ra.

You scanned the new place with your eyes. A vast garden expanded ahead. What did Drolta say…? Oh, yes. France was the name of the country you’ve arrived after weeks of travel. Although the night was chilly, it was still much warmer than Erzsebet’s home, which was always covered in meters of snow. At least thirty cloaked vampires waited in line for their Messiah’s arrival, being leaded by Drolta, of course.

In the moments your brain was working with somewhat lucidity, you heard conversations about some revolution. It was hard to make much sense of what they meant exactly, for anytime they had “important” conversations with you around, you’d be usually with an open wound on your neck trying to fight the overwhelming weakness and pain. They had the care to not let you be near while you were fully conscious. During the day as most of the Messiah’s court (and herself) slept, you were locked in your quarters. You were allowed to walk out only when Erzsebet needed to feed.

You didn’t understand exactly what they meant by that - in fact, you didn’t understand much of anything at all. You didn’t know why these vampires considered Erzsebet their queen; you didn’t understand why she considered herself a queen - no, she considered herself a goddess. You didn’t know what they meant by “crushing the revolution”, and you didn’t understand what you were doing in France.

Most importantly - you didn’t understand exactly what was their interest in you.

The obvious part: you seemed to be Erzsebet’s infinite source of blood and court jester, as the fact that she could break you in every way and you’d still wake up as if nothing happened the next morning entertained her. However… she didn’t need you. The Vampire Messiah had girls being fed to her daily. It’s not as if she was going through a blood shortage anytime soon. And… it seemed that she also had immense pleasure in simply killing - something she could not achieve with you.

So why keep you around? Why keep you locked with guards holding you at all times? Why drag you along anywhere she went?

There weren’t many moments in which your mind was clear - and in those small moments, such questions screamed in your mind relentlessly. Just… just why?

Why is any of this happening?

Your mind snapped back to reality the moment you heard a new strange sound. You lifted your head to see a big golden cage being brought closer to Erzsebet.

A frightened young girl locked inside it.

The sight didn’t shock you. Yet, you couldn’t help but feel a sting of sadness.

“Daughter of a revolutionary deputy. Member of the Jacobin club.” Drolta introduced maliciously as she opened the cage with the help of her clutch. A servant dragged the brown haired girl out of the cage. You watched in solemn silence as Erzsebet floated out of her chariot.

For a moment, the girl made eye contact with you. She immediately recognized your human features. Maybe, for a split second, she might’ve found some comfort in your image, finally seeing someone like her. Her eyes begged for an explanation; begged for help.

But there was nothing you could do.

You looked down again, not wanting to see Erzsebet sinking her fangs in the young girl’s neck. Silently, you apologized for being somewhat relieved that she was there. Erszebet would leave you alone until she got satisfied of her new victim.

As the sound of her strangled whimpers filled the area, Drolta approached you.

You never got used to it - how vampires could move unnervingly fast. You had barely realized she was standing by your side when you felt her hands hold your waist on both sides, taking you off the horse back as if you were a toddler, and putting you on your feet.

She smirked.

Goosebumps crawled your skin.

Erszebet was cruel, irritating, violent and loud. You knew that very well. Yet… perhaps the fact that you knew she was incapable of actually killing you made you somewhat anesthetized of her presence.

Drolta, however, actually scared you.

She wasn’t loud or reckless, she didn’t act on her instincts like her master. No… she was calculated. It seemed that her eyes were always over everything, like she knew what anyone would do before they even moved. There was something truly ominous deep within her pink eyes. Much smarter than Erszebet. In a way, much crueler.

She caressed your cheek with the back of her fingers.

“Rejoice, Ruby. You have a very important task ahead of you.” She said in what sounded like a purr before dragging you towards a carriage.

Oh.

You… actually knew what she meant already. A memory from not long ago - or was it long ago? - came; the last time you were required to do this… task. And once more, you hated the fact that your memory was so weak, how you couldn’t recall things that should be important, should be essential. Deep down, you knew your real name wasn’t “Ruby”. You knew you might’ve had a past… maybe even a family. Yet, any time you tried to tap on these memories, nothing came. Just frustrating emptiness.

There was actually a third reason for Erzsebet to keep you around and close. A valid reason.

And it filled you with unfathomable remorse.

The chateau was a magnificent place.

You didn’t have time to explore any of it, of course – you were immediately dragged into a room as soon as the entourage arrived, mere hours before sunrise. Still, you had time to see the exquisite gardens that decorated the entrance, the river that seemed to isolate it from the rest of the world. The interior of the chateau was just as mesmerizing. Opulence radiated from every corner, with golden arabesques and crystal chandeliers.

Your room was no less impressive. The bed, big and comfortable; it was a relief to sleep on a soft surface after weeks of uncomfortable travel. The towering windows faced the back gardens and the reflective pools of the water fountains. It was even equipped with a marble bathtub.

Nothing but a golden cage. You were locked in. Two guards stood outside the doors at all times. The door only opened to deliver food three times a day and to clean the latrine.

It was… tranquil.

It had been two… three…? days since you arrived. You couldn’t be sure. In the meantime, your presence was not requested – which made you question if that same poor girl was still alive or if they’d found someone else to entertain Erzsebet. It was a relief. Truly. You didn’t have many opportunities to stay awake and sane for such a long period.

You heard music and voices coming from downstairs, meaning they had a ball at some point. From the peek of the curtains, you saw that the chateau always very busy at night. Yes, it was tranquil – but all that movement filled you with constant apprehension. A strange heaviness in your gut that didn’t let you have a peaceful sleep. Something was going to happen. Something big.

The awful feeling in your gut only got worse when, in the middle of the night, a handful of maids entered your room without warning.

They washed you without any care. They perfumed your body. They brushed and styled your hair with intricate braids that curled at the top of your head in somewhat of a bun. They applied rouge to your lips. They dressed you in a jaw-dropping, beautiful blue gown; as dark as the night sky, embroidered with silver silk lines that seemed to imitate stars peppering around the skirt. The corset was tight but not uncomfortable. It was actually a much lighter dress than the ones you used to wear back at Erzsebet’s country, given how much more pleasant the temperature in France was.

Erzsebet loved luxury. She loved jewels, diamonds, gold, beautiful dresses; she did not allow anyone to appear anything but perfect anywhere near her, as ugliness displeased her eyes. She loved the theatrics of it. That is why, as you looked at the absolutely gorgeous image of yourself in the mirror, the only thing you felt was disgust. Perfectly well put, devoid of any personality trait. Just the way Her Magnificence liked it.

And that… that fucking ruby necklace sitting over your collarbones. It seemed to burn your skin. She demanded you to always wear it.

Your personal collar.

That morning, Drolta herself came to escort you.

The woman wore a black gown made of what looked like leather. You saw her reflection on the mirror and shivered, not having noticed she had entered the room at all.

That same vicious smile adorned her features. She stepped closer, putting her hands over your shoulders, and looked straight to your eyes through the mirror.

“Beautiful as always, Ruby.” You hated that name. You hated the way she said it. Almost a mockery. “You know what you have to do, right?”

You gulped and nodded as your suspicions were confirmed. Drolta rolled her eyes.

“Did you unlearn how to speak? It has been ages since I last heard the sound of your voice.” But she didn’t give you time to answer, dragging you out of the room by the arm instead. The two cloaked guards followed shortly. “You should be proud of yourself, Ruby. Being able to help Her Magnificence is the greatest honor of all. You do know you are the only human she allows in her court, right?”

Oh, what a great honor. You felt your fingers beginning to shake as you approached the ceremonies hall, hearing the sound of multiple voices fast approaching.

It was, indeed, crowded.

The curtains covered all of the windows, since it was early in the morning; the sun reigned in the sky. Some vampires wore the typical black cloaks and some wore aristocratic attires. Quiet conversation filled the great hall. There was an air of expectation and excitement. It only made your guts twist more.

Not many paid attention to your arrival – their queen kept their attention locked on her, standing near the guard rail on the double stairs. You recognized some faces from Erzsebet’s palace; some were completely new. A few sent you the usual looks of thirst upon the realization that you were human. You tried not to make eye contact with anyone.

However, your eyes locked with one of the new faces very briefly. A brown-skinned man, wearing a luxurious purple attire. His long black hair fell to right side of his face, adorning his beautiful features. His green eyes didn’t hold any thirst or malice like the others. He just looked… curious. Astute. You quickly averted your eyes somewhere else.

Just to spot another face – and this time, the sting of sadness in your heart came back.

It was… it was that girl from before.

She wore a white gown – but the collar of the corset was tainted with her own blood. She had very visible open wounds on both sides of her neck. Standing by the stairs, she barely had the strength to support her own weight; her once olive skin now looked unhealthily pale.

You gulped.

Watching her in that state was like seeing yourself. Except this girl was going to die. Very soon.

How was she still alive?

The vampire kept dragging you by the arm, seemingly not noticing your apparent shock. When you passed by the girl on your way up the stairs, she recognized you again – and, once more, sent you a gaze that seemed to scream for help.

That was worse than a punch in the gut.

Drolta made you stop some steps away from Erzsebet. The Vampire Messiah did not bother to look back at you; as you already knew, she was preparing herself to what was about to come. Behind you, an obelisk with inscriptions and engravings was placed. Another cloaked servant approached. He carried a heavy, ancient book on his hands; its cover was made of black old leather, and although it was fading away due to the book’s apparent antique, you could see the outline of an image of the moon on it.

Drolta took the book in her arms, opening it on a specific page, and handed it to you.

“It is time.” She said with a voice filled of pride. “Take your part on the rise of Her Magnificence, and you may have our eternal gratitude.”

You didn’t want their eternal gratitude.

But that’s not what made you hesitate.

After looking at the book, your fragile memories came back with more clarity. You… you did this ritual twice before. You couldn’t tell how long ago. After it was over, you were locked back to your cell as usual, you didn’t exactly see what happened next – but you didn’t really need to see anything to understand the gravity of what it caused.

Even inside your room, you remembered feeling the stench of rotten human flesh for days.

Just… how many people must’ve died?

At this point, you were resigned to being hurt. You didn’t really see any point in trying to escape the claws of those two supernaturally powerful vampires – it’d only bring you more pain. But one thing was getting hurt... another was getting others hurt because of you. You didn’t want to be the harbinger of death again. Whatever they were planning, you didn’t want to participate.

So you froze in place. Sweat dripped down your temples. Your heartbeat increased.

“What… what are you going to do?” you asked, mustering the courage to speak in a quiet voice.

Drolta wasn’t smiling anymore.

She stepped closer, towering over you. Her eyes burned with contempt and cruelty. She brought her lips close to your ear, not to draw unwanted attention.

“Horrible timing to decide to be brave, darling.” She hissed. “Do what you’re told or she’ll face the consequences.”

She grabbed your face by the cheeks and forced your head towards the stairs.

The girl in white stood there, watching everything with frightened eyes.

You gasped.

She had noticed.

Drolta chuckled.

“We know we can hurt you as we please, dear Ruby… but her? How much do you think she can handle?” You felt the warm press of her lips on your cheek. “Will you condemn her to a slow, horrid death in the name of your bravery?” She whispered, her voice dripping with mockery.

Your breath came shaky and difficult. The room seemed to blur for a second. You knew she wasn’t bluffing. She never did.

Slowly, you took the book from her hands.

Drolta released you with a satisfied grin. She patted the top of your head.

“Good girl.”

She stepped aside.

Your fingers were shaking. The book was heavy. It smelled of mold.

You sat down on the cool marble floor directly behind Erzsebet, the long skirt cascading around your body. You placed the book in front of you. The paper was yellowed and frail; it might rip off if you touched it. The pages had no images, only text handwritten in red ink.

You didn’t understand the words written. However, for some reason, you could read them clearly, although it sounded like nothing to you. You closed your eyes tightly, silently apologizing again for what you were about to do.

Erzsebet raised her head.

It was your sign.

You started to read the enchantment.

Your voice was nothing but a whisper. As the unknown words left your mouth, an already familiar feeling of disgust grew. You didn’t know what those words meant, but something deep within you – inside that darkened part of your brain where your memories must’ve been hidden – knew you were saying something blasphemous, hideous, something that went against your very nature.

Erzsebet seemed to fall into a trance when she heard those words. She inhaled them – the spell – as if they were smoke. Something as heavy as iron weighed over the hall, making all the spectators apprehensive. The tall, red-haired vampire started to gesticulate with wide, almost dance-like movements.

There was a crack in the air in front of her. Then, as she gesticulated, an orb of pure black and white energy materialized. The spectators gasped in awe.

Her movements became more frantic. The orb grew larger. You kept reading, feeling your throat going dry, your body getting weaker with each word. It’s as if Erzsebet was not only absorbing your words, but also your strength. Your eyes blurred with tears which you blinked rapidly to dissipate.

I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Please, forgive me.

The eclipse started.

Slowly, a shadow made its way to cover the moon.

More gasps of awe.

Forgive me.

“Behold, the Devourer of Light!” Drolta announced with pride and admiration. Erzsebet laughed.

Please, forgive me. I’m sorry.

The curtains were dragged. The windows were opened with a gust of wind. The vampires rejoiced.

You gasped for air.

The enchantment was over. There was no more strength in your body.

You covered your face with your hand, not daring to raise your eyes and see the horde of vampires flying free through the windows. You didn’t pay attention to whomever took you back to your room and locked you there. You didn’t have enough energy to get up from the carpet.

For the first time in days, you closed your eyes and slept - hoping to never wake up again and face the horrors you helped unleash in the world.

There was something wrong.

You felt it in the air. A heavy tension. A strange silence.

That was not what you expected after the eclipse. Usually, what followed was a celebration of the conquer, a banquet filled with hundreds of victims upon whom the vampires feasted. Laughter, music, screams of agony, the horrible stench of blood and carcasses.

But now, it was… eerie.

With your body aching from sleeping on the floor, you glued your head to the door in hopes of getting a clue of what might’ve happened. All you heard were fast steps and shushed whispers. You noticed something was definitely wrong as hours went by and no one came to bring you breakfast.

Is it possible that Erzsebet’s plan – whatever it was – went wrong?

These thoughts churned in your mind as you took off the jewelry, undid the tight hairstyle and took off the under layers of skirt that made the dress puffier. Who could possibly go against Erzsebet or Drolta? At this point, your only memories were of being surrounded by vampires. The few humans you met didn’t last that long. You’ve been around them for long enough to understand that most vampires were only slightly stronger and faster than humans. It wasn’t easy or quick to become powerful – and the Vampire Messiah had some fairly powerful servants under her command. In fact, you didn’t think anyone could be more powerful than Drolta. Erzsebet could summon an eclipse, but she didn’t seem to be as experienced in battle as her right hand woman.

As far as your suspicions went, you could be sure that, unfortunately, the insufferable red-haired vampire wasn’t defeated. There were still guards outside your doors. Whatever happened, it wasn’t enough to stop her from accomplishing her… plan.

Sitting in front of the dressing table while you untied one of the braids in your head, you looked at yourself in the mirror. Without the rouge, the jewelry, the neat hairstyle. You were just a shell of a woman, really. Whenever you had enough time to really think about your life – in those brief moments when you weren’t in the brink of unconsciousness or fighting against the pain –, the only thing you could feel was… frustration. It wasn’t even sadness or hatred, only plain frustration. You knew there was something wrong with your head. You knew that immense void in your memory couldn’t be normal. Still, there was nothing you could do about it. They never gave you time to think, to maybe plan an escape strategy. But even if you did – how could you actually run away? You didn’t have the strength to face a vampire head on, even the “weak” ones. And you knew the types of punishment you’d be put through if you were caught.

You always healed, yes. But it didn’t make the pain less painful. Drolta could be very creative in her ways of ensuring your utter submission.

In the end, you were reminded of why you always chose to sleep through most of your sanity. While awake, you were constantly reminded of your current situation and your inability to change it. At least while you slept, you had… peace.

The clock on the wall hit noon. Your stomach was empty, yet you didn’t know if you wanted to eat.

That’s when you caught something with the corner of your eye.

It was quick and silent – barely a flap of wings. You turned your head in time to see a strange mass of black materializing in your room, passing through the breach of the window.

Your eyes widened. Your heart jumped.

That mass took the form of a man.

Your immediate feeling was fear. That was, very clearly, a vampire. His skin was pale as snow, just like his long hair, which cascaded over his broad shoulders. His eyes were hazel, almost golden; they seemed to glow faintly under the shadow cast over his face. He was tall. His attire was black from head to toe – boots, gloves, jacket, cape. He had a calm, yet ferocious expression – analytical, even – as his eyes locked onto yours. He held a long silver sword, its tip pointed directly at you.

The obvious threat in his position should frighten you even more. But that was not was you focused on.

Sunlight hit him through the windows, casting a halo on the back of his head. His hair shimmered with the glow of a million silver coins. It made him look… holy. Like the frescoes you had seen of the Christian God painted on the ceiling of a church Erzsebet once destroyed.

How… how could he…?

“You can come with me peacefully.” He said quietly. His voice was deep. Husky. He almost sounded… calm. But you wouldn’t let yourself be fooled by that; it was unyielding as stone. The stranger didn’t blink for a moment, his eyes tracking your every small movement like a tiger stalking its prey.

He was, in fact, not giving you a choice. The sword in his hand, unwavering and pointed at you, made that very clear.

Your breath got caught in your throat.

There were many things you could’ve said. You knew that man could and would hurt you if you moved too abruptly. Barely five seconds in his presence and you understood: like Drolta, he wasn’t one to bluff.

But you couldn’t bring yourself to feel more afraid, because as he spoke, you caught a glimpse of his fangs – and that other feeling grew stronger.

Curiosity.

“Y-You’re a vampire. How are you standing in the sunlight?” was all you could mutter in frightened amazement.

The stranger didn’t drop his threatening position, yet he tightened his eyes in a subtle sign of surprise. It seemed that your sudden question caught him off guard.

“Don’t you know who I am?” he asked, keeping the same tone. It was your turn to frown. You clasped your hands together, resting them over your legs, and shook your head. How and why would you know him?

“I’m afraid not, sir.”

He narrowed his eyes even more. It looked like he was searching for something, inspecting you with a new type of interest.

“I find it hard to believe that one of Erzsebet’s servants wouldn’t know of me by now.”

You gulped, tightening your own clasped hands.

“I… don’t know many things, sir.”

The stranger still watched you, in silence, for a few more seconds. It hit you in that moment the reason for his apparent confusion. He expected you to fight him.

Then, he straightened his position. You eyes widened with apprehension and shock when he let go of his long sword and it floated – the weapon stood with its hilt turned to the ceiling a few centimeters away from the floor, emitting an eerie metallic sound as it moved.

The man approached you. He was silent – so silent that, if you weren’t directly looking at him, you probably wouldn’t know someone was moving in the same room as you. As if he had dropped that ferocity, he sat down on the bed in front of you with a newly serene expression.

“I was rude in my approach. My apologies.” his voice mirrored the serenity of his face. “I am Alucard.”

Your breath got caught in your throat once more.

You didn’t know what was more shocking. His sudden change in behavior, his absolute calm while in enemy territory… or the fact that he was beautiful.

Again – you were more used to vampires than humans at this point. Every vampire had an uncanny beauty to them. They were attractive and scary at the same time. While you could see and sense very well that this man still represented danger… the “uncanny” aspect didn’t apply to him. He looked young (being a vampire, that didn’t mean much), a man of soft yet striking features.

Ethereal was the word you were looking for.

You noticed that he was paying attention if you were going to react to his name, which you didn’t. You also noticed that he was waiting for you to present yourself as well. Slow reactions. You weren’t used to talking.

“My name is…” your words trailed off.

For the first time, you averted your eyes from his, grabbing the blue fabric of your skirt in discomfort.

“They call me Ruby, sir.”

The man – Alucard – quirked one eyebrow slightly. “Is it not your real name?”

You sighed tiredly. “I don’t think so. No.”

Alucard hummed. His voice was so deep that it seemed to reverberate in your bones. He crossed his arms. “And do you have any idea of why I am here, Maybe-Ruby?”

The unexpected humorous way in which he called you caught you by surprise. Still, once more, you gulped, apprehension growing yet again.

“To… get revenge, I suppose?” The vampire looked genuinely confused for the first time. His quirked eyebrow was an unspoken question. It made you avoid his eyes once again, feeling a mix of anxiety and embarrassment. “For the eclipse.”

He went silent for some moments.

“Did you cause the eclipse?” You heard a sting of danger in his question that only made your heartbeat increase.

“I helped. Somehow.”

“Why?” He was growing more inquisitive.

“I didn’t have a choice, sir.” You blurted out nervously.

Alucard hummed yet again.

When he let out a tired sigh, you finally looked back at him.

“To answer my previous question,” he said as he got up from the bed. “I came here to kidnap you. But it looks like I’m saving you, as Erzsebet seems to be as much of a threat to you.”

You gasped, widened you eyes.

He… he wanted to take you out of here?

The anxiety made your fingers shake. You felt nervous, excited, hopeful… scared. Hell, were you scared. How in the world would this man take you out of here alive? Floating sword or not, did he even stand a chance against Drolta?

“However, I will need your help in return, Ruby,” Alucard continued, now looking back at the windows. “I see you don’t know many things, but I’d appreciate if you made some effort. Now, let’s go. I’m already abusing the opportunity my associate gave me…”

“Wait.”

You grabbed his wrist in a desperate move.

Alucard looked at your hands, then at you – once again, confused and shocked.

You were shaking.

“Thank you for your help, sir. You are very kind.” you managed to blurt out somehow. “B-But I don’t think Erzsebet will ever let me go. She… she has very powerful servants. One of them, Drolta… she will hunt me to the ends of the earth. I don’t want you to get hurt because of me, sir.”

You didn’t dare to look up at him.

Perhaps you were being too emotive. You barely knew this man at all; what proof did you have that he wasn’t as cruel as the vampires that were keeping you imprisoned? But at least – and for the first time you could remember – he was somewhat kind to you. He didn’t offend you, didn’t physically hurt you… and that alone was much more than anyone had offered for as long as you knew.

Maybe he could get out of here safely. He wouldn’t have Erzsebet and her entourage hunting him down. Maybe he still had a chance-

Your train of thought derailed the moment you heard his… chuckle.

Your heart jumped within your chest the moment he, with much delicacy, put his own gloved hand over yours and squeezed it reassuringly.

You finally looked up.

Alucard had a small smile on his lips. It wasn’t one of the mean, mocking smirks you were used to. The suspicion disappeared from his eyes, his eyebrows were not longer tense. He looked… gentle. More than that… there was a glint of humor in his eyes, as if he found the situation funny.

The sun that streamed through the windows seemed to shine even brighter, surrounding his entire figure in golden glow that matched his eyes. Yes, he looked holy. Otherworldly.

“I won’t get hurt,” he assured with tenderness. “And neither will you.”

Time itself seemed to stop at that moment.

He didn’t boast about being all-powerful. And you realized that he didn’t need to. Underneath his gentle eyes, you saw unwavering confidence; quiet, motionless and imposing like a mountain. In a way, it was much more menacing than any of Erzsebet’s scandalous actions or bloodbaths.

And for the first time, such menace wasn’t directed at you. It was on your favor.

That was your chance. The only real chance you ever got as far as your frail memory knew. A chance of living in a world where you didn’t have to follow the three survival rules.

Don’t fight. Don’t scream. Don’t cry.

But you wanted to fight. You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry.

You wanted to live.

So when Alucard offered his hand, you took it and got up from the chair.

You didn’t need to say anything. The silver-haired vampire nodded with satisfaction as his sword companion floated closer to him.

“Let’s go.”

Then, you followed Alucard towards the sun – towards the dawn of a new life.

#castlevania #castlevania nocturne #alucard x reader #alucard x you #alucard #adrian tepes #adrian fahrenheit tepes #castlevania alucard #alucard adrian tepes #castlevania x reader #I AM ACTUALLY VERY EXCITED ABOUT THIS FIC YALLLLL #IT'S BEEN A WHILE!!!!#i will edit that cover tho after my photoshop stops acting up

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monster-effer · 1 month ago

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Your New Hobby – Sylus x reader

Summary: You start reading fanfic but are being secretive about it, Sylus is curious, shenanigans follow. Content: fluff, mild smut mention, silliness, Sylus and reader are dating, reader is not MC, Toji (JJK) mention (~800 wc) A/N: This silly idea came to me while I was reading a fanfic on AO3 lmao

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You’ve picked up a new hobby lately and you feel a teeny bit embarrassed about it. While you usually yap about anything and everything to Sylus, your handsome boyfriend, you only read fanfics when he is not home. Mostly so you can squeal in private.

This is not a foolproof method. He has caught you a few times still awake at ungodly times of the night when he returns home from a business deal. There are usually curious glances thrown your way but he hasn’t pressed you on it. Yet.

It is 3 am.

You should be sleeping but you found the holy grail of fanfics a few hours ago.

Toji x reader Modern AU slow burn Rating: Explicit 30 chapters long

It is pitch black in the room with nothing but your phone’s screen illuminating your face. In the background, you have relaxing ocean sounds playing from your sleep song playlist.

You are sprawled out on the bed giggling and kicking your feet because you’ve finally reached the chapter where the characters have sweaty, filthy sex. As much as you love the build up and anticipation in slow burns, the rollercoaster ride of emotions this story put you through was exhausting. But all that suffering has paid off because this smut is downright nasty. Your mouth is hanging wide open as you read the heinous acts committed in this sacred text.

You are so locked into the fic that you don’t hear Sylus arrive home.

You also don’t hear him open the bedroom door.

Nor do you hear him sneak up behind you.

It has not escaped his notice how preoccupied you’ve been with your phone lately. At first, he thought you were researching for a new mission. But over the past few weeks he’s noticed your sleeping schedule getting more and more off track. This piqued his interest because you prefer getting a good night’s rest when you are able to.

So, can you really blame him for wanting to take a quick peak?

Sylus slinks his way towards the bed. He is surprised that you haven’t noticed his approach but plans to use your inattentiveness to his advantage. When he is close enough to see what has you so enthralled, the usually unshakeable Onychinus leader is sent reeling from the absolute filth displayed on your screen.

He hovers over your shoulder for a few minutes reading along with you. As you continue to scroll multiple questions pop into his mind.

Who the hell is Toji? And why does he have such a vulgar mouth? A headlock ????!?!?

Who knew his sweet girlfriend was into this type of reading material? After taking note of everything he read, he decides to have a little fun with you.

“What are you doing up so late kitten?”

You feel your heart drop to your ass and let out a high-pitched scream when Sylus’ voice breaks you out of your fanfic induced trance. Your heartbeat is thrumming against your ribcage as you swiftly put your phone to sleep and throw it across the bed. You roll over onto your back and sit up, so you are facing him.

“I didn’t hear you come home,” you reply shakily from the sheer amount of adrenaline pumping through your veins.

“And I, didn’t hear you answer my question,” Sylus says with a smile as he begins to remove his clothes.

“I was…um…looking up a recipe.”

Sylus struggles to hold in a laugh at your terrible lie. “Really? At 3 am? And what were you planning to make?”

You fumble over your words a bit before you respond “Lasagna! Nothing like having it homemade right?”

While you were floundering, Sylus has stripped down to his boxers, ready to wash off the aftermath of a particularly bloody business deal. “Hmm, well I look forward to trying out this lasagna soon.”

You think you catch a twinkle in Sylus’ eyes before he turns away from you and strolls into the en suite bathroom.

You slump down into the silky sheets of the bed once he leaves the room. ‘That was such a close call,’ you think to yourself. Sylus has eyes like a hawk, so you’re thankful he didn’t see any of the delicious filth you were reading. You decide to play a game on your phone to calm your nerves while he showers.

After a few minutes pass the shower turns off. You can hear Sylus shuffle around as he dries off in the bathroom.

He comes out with a towel wrapped around his waist, using another towel to dry off his hair. While you don’t immediately look up at him, you can feel his eyes focused on you. Before you can ask if he needs something, he speaks.

“So, who is Toji and why is he putting ‘you’ in a headlock?”

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shomatoriashi · 3 months ago

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11/08/24; 02:33pm

yandere!sung.jinwoo x fem.reader

me: (imagine) a hot man offers you a drink at this korean bbq place, and you don’t want to look uncool and take a shot, only to realize it’s just lemon lime soda

you end up getting starry eyed for this devastatingly handsome man, enjoying the rest of what you thought would be a solo dinner with this charming man-

but little do you know, he’s been lovesick for you and stalking you for quite some time now -

lmao convince me not to do this bestie

@nyashykyunnie: convince me to convince you not to

warnings: stalking; obsessive thoughts and behavior.

work had been a stressful event for you, causing your once steady walking pace to slow down to a complete crawl. exhaustion was felt reaching down into your very bones, and it felt as though your body was being dragged down by weights itself.

lately, work had gotten so exhausting, with your boss forcing you to pick up extra shifts while you struggled to stay afloat. yet despite it all, you were able to survive and make it towards your day off.

currently, you were basking in the freedom that came with a friday night after a long shift work. the fact that it was also your weekend off added an extra layer of sweetness to it all-

and you were going to celebrate this joyous occasion with some much needed korean barbecue. walking across the streets of the city, you head towards your favorite restaurant with a bounce in your step. the exhaustion was quickly replaced with excitement and joy at eating all of your favorite cuts of meat and sides.

entering the establishment, you eagerly tell the host that you’d like a single table, grinning widely when he takes you to a table settled in the middle of the restaurant. looking through the menu, you had to swallow the excess moisture that floods your mouth from all the delicious scents that fills at the air.

after what felt like hours of waiting, your waitress greets you and asks what you’d like to have. when you tell her your order, she smiles and writes everything down, promising to bring out your food shortly so you could start grilling it. so caught up in your eagerness to destress and enjoy a delicious meal, you didn’t notice how a tall man kept his eyes on you.

you were about to unlock your phone and scroll through the various apps when the sight of a large glass bottle being slammed against your table makes you jump in your seat.

trailing your eyes upwards, you were taken aback upon seeing a handsome man with deep, grey eyes staring down at you. locks of wavy, ebony hair was seen falling across his forehead as he pours the liquid into the shot glass.

“a pretty girl like you shouldn’t have to dine all alone, so how about i keep you company?” he flashes you a kind smile, offering the shot glass filled with a clear liquid to you. by now, your heart was pounding in your chest, becoming flustered while beneath this devastating man’s amused gaze.

despite how you didn’t enjoy drinking, something about this perfect stranger’s alluring charm made you want to appear poised and cool enough to handle your alcohol. with a determined nod, you take the shot glass from his hand and down the whole thing with one gulp-

the burn was immediate, and you nearly choked until the familiar flavor of lemon-lime fills at your tastebuds. your eyes widen with realization, meeting kind grey eyes once more as he sits across from you. “no need to panic, i’m not big on drinking either, so let’s enjoy some of this crisp soda instead.”

“y-yes. that would be nice.” you admit to him with a bit of a dreamy expression on your face. now that you were completely relaxed, you were able to see just how gorgeous he was-

and you were dumbfounded at how he came to you.

he feels your gaze and smiles at you, “my name is sung jinwoo.”

you nod and eagerly tell him your name, knowing your heart was steadily melting for him. when your food finally arrived, jinwoo was the one who helped with grilling your favorite cuts of meat, all while serving it to you with a bowl of rice and all of your favorite sides.

throughout dinner, you basked in jinwoo’s presence, enjoying the night with him as you told him all about your interests and the things that brought you joy-

but little did you know, jinwoo had already known all of these things about you.

his meeting with you had not been a serendipitous one, oh no.

when jinwoo first caught sight of you, it was when he saw you walking out of your apartment and ran some errands. where you had gone, he had long forgotten by now, but all he knew was that the moment he saw your face-

all he wanted to do was protect you; to shield you from the world while taking you in his embrace.

it was crazy that he could feel so strongly about another human being at first sight. it’s just… something about you pulled him to you-

like it wasn’t gravity that was keeping him grounded to the earth, but you.

and jinwoo never wanted this feeling to disappear.

he takes advantage of his powers as the shadow monarch, placing only the best of his soldiers within your shadow while watching your every move. and when merely watching you through a haze of darkness wasn’t enough, then he’d resort to physically following your every move.

jinwoo was proud to say that he has stalked you for close to a year now, memorizing your schedule and the places that you frequented. of course he knew that you weren’t big on drinking alcohol-

or how you cried during your favorite dramas-

and the way you fell asleep while clinging to your favorite plushies.

he documents all of these nuances pertaining to you, keeping several journals on him, documenting your likes and dislikes with his own musings, all while praying for the day he can meet you naturally-

a day like today.

he had stood outside your workplace, hiding his face beneath the hood of his hoodie while watching your movements through his soldiers’ eyes. anger coursed through him each time your coworker and supervisor piled on the work for you, further exhausting you.

when you finally stepped out of the building, jinwoo could see the relief in your eyes all while allowing his gaze to soften for you. wishing to make his first meeting with you as picture perfect as possible, he shadow exchanges himself toward your favorite restaurant before getting a table.

now it was just a waiting game-

and you were perfectly ensnared within his trap.

jinwoo notices the way your eyes kept sneaking glances at him, with you eating your meal without truly tasting anything. he could hear the slight hitch of your breathing and was delighted to hear the way the blood seemed to rush through your veins as your heart raced for him-

you were finally his.

wishing to further cement your growing affections for him, jinwoo pays for your meal before offering to drive you home, not once daring to leave your side the moment you step out of the restaurant together with him.

as jinwoo drove you home, he felt saddened at the fact that he would need to leave you so soon, not wishing to make you uncomfortable while pushing the boundaries you may not be ready to break-

however, he was certain that the disappearance of your boss and coworkers would spark some concern within you, and that you’ll run into his arms soon enough-

it was only a matter of time.

end notes: lmao don’t mind me, i just miss sung jinwoo so much (⺣◡⺣)♡

all stories are written by rei; please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works!!

#yandere x you #yandere x y/n #solo leveling x reader #sung jinwoo x reader #jinwoo sung x reader #sung jinwoo x you #jinwoo sung x you #sung jinwoo x y/n #jinwoo sung x y/n #yandere x reader #yandere imagine #writings 📖

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mountaesan · 1 month ago

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a wild goose chase ; h. taesan

pairing. loser frat boy!taesan x fem!reader ( ft. frat brothers!sungho & leehan ) genre. slice of life , angst if you squint , strangers to lovers , university au synopsis. taesan isn't one to usually to go on a wild goose chase , but his world is turned upside down after one conversation with you word count. 3.8k warnings. alcohol consumption , taesan fumbles a baddie ( you ) , reader wears makeup in one scene , taesan is horrendously down bad playlist. her by block b , phone number by jinusean ( screamed when they collabed w jinusean . . . i lich rally grew up with this song so it was so surreal for me LMAO ) notes. this is the first and last time i will ever write solely in a member’s pov. i struggled way too much man

Since his first day of being a pledge, Taesan’s been in a strange limbo, teetering between a thin edge of savoring the pulse of life that could only exist in a too-crowded, too busy frat party, and loathing the sweaty chaos of beer-stained floors.

Today felt like the latter.

He bit back a curse when he felt the cold splatter of cheap beer spilling onto his shoes. Yup, definitely the latter.

The culprit, a half-drunk freshman he recognized as a pledge from another frat, mumbled a short apology before scampering off to the bar. Taesan ran an exhausted hand through his hair, contemplating once again, his choice to join a fraternity, and pushed through the crowd to the entrance of the frat house.

“Hey, Woonhak,” Taesan clapped a hand on the shoulder of his Little, a freshman with bright eyes and a cheery smile. “You’re off pledge duty. I got you.”

Woonhak glanced at the older brother with an excited glint in his eyes. “Really? Are you being serious?”

Taesan leaned against the doorframe, the cool night air brushing against his face as he took Woonhak’s place at the entrance. He had just enough view of the street to feel like he wasn’t entirely stuck in the chaos behind him. Taking the clipboard from Woonhak, he gave the younger boy a mock glare.

“Go, before I start assigning you something worse, like mop duty,” Taesan said with a smirk.

Woonhak saluted dramatically before disappearing into the house. Probably to find the rest of the pledges and bask in his temporary freedom.

Taesan sighed, flipping the clipboard to glance at the guest list for all of two seconds before setting it on a nearby ledge. Who cared if they were invited or not? As long as they weren’t carrying anything sketchy, it wasn’t his problem.

The first group approached, a trio of giggling girls holding red Solo cups. Taesan raised a skeptical brow, clearly noticing the alcohol already in hand, but he didn’t bother questioning where it came from.

“You’re good. Go on in,” he said, waving them through without hesitation.

They gave him a quick thanks and hurried inside, their laughter trailing behind them. Another group shuffled up next, this time a pair of guys who looked like they’d eat guys like Taesan for breakfast. One of them squinted at him, as if sizing him up.

“Do we need to, like, sign in or something?” the guy asked.

Taesan stared at him blankly. “Nope. Enjoy.”

And so it went. Taesan let a steady stream of people through, his “screening process” consisting mostly of quick glances and half-hearted waves. He let his mind wander, relishing the cool breeze and the occasional quiet moments when no one approached.

Half an hour passed. Maybe more. He wasn’t keeping track.

“You’re really just letting everyone in, huh?”

The voice startled Taesan out of his thoughts. Turning, he saw a familiar face–Sungho, a senior who lived for frat events but somehow managed to stay above the chaos. He stood with his arms crossed, an amused smile playing on his lips.

Taesan shrugged, his usual deadpan expression intact. “What do you want me to do? Start a full-body security pat down?”

Sungho laughed. “Nah, but you could at least pretend to care. Who knows, maybe someone will bring a llama into the house or something.”

“A llama would probably be the highlight of the night,” Taesan shot back.

Sungho rolled his eyes but stayed beside him, leaning against the frame. “You hate this, don’t you?”

“Absolutely.”

They stood in silence for a moment, watching another group wander up the driveway. Sungho nudged him.

“Come on, at least ask if they’re on the list this time,” he teased.

Taesan groaned but picked up the clipboard. He glanced down at the list for show and when the group reached him, he asked, “Names?”

The group rattled off something incomprehensible over the thumping bass from inside. Taesan nodded as if he cared, waved them through, and dropped the clipboard again.

“Wow. Stellar effort,” Sungho deadpanned.

“Thanks. I try,” Taesan replied, monotone.

“Well, I’m going to bounce. Do your job properly, dude.” With a final pat on his shoulder, Sungho’s footsteps retreated as he disappeared back into the house.

The familiar weight of resignation settled over Taesan again as the door swung shut behind him. With a sigh, he slumped further into his position, resting his back against the doorframe as he half-heartedly pretended to check people off the list, all while counting down the minutes until he could leave.

He didn’t even look up when another group approached, letting them through with a lazy wave. He was honestly getting close to abandoning his post altogether. He’d never been assigned this duty in the first place, and he sure as hell didn’t care enough to do it right.

But then again, if he left, Woonhak would catch flak for it, and Taesan wasn’t about to make his Little’s life harder. Besides, he had no interest in receiving a demerit for a job that wasn’t even his in the first place. No way he’d risk that.

So, he stuck it out, like some reluctant sentinel standing at the gates of a frat party he hated.

One thing to clarify though, Taesan doesn’t hate his frat. He joined for a reason. Sure, it had taken some convincing from Leehan, but Taesan wanted to belong. He wanted to be part of something bigger. He enjoyed the parties, the camaraderie with his brothers, the sense of pride that came with being part of a long-standing tradition.

But on days like today, when the music felt too loud, the bodies too close, and the heat in the house too overwhelming, he didn’t exactly feel connected to it. Some days, it was just too much. But that didn’t mean he was going to bail entirely.

He was still there.

Taesan’s thoughts drifted again, only for a soft tap on his shoulder to yank him back into the present.

“Okay, okay, I’ll do those full-body pat downs since you want them so bad. Wanna be my first?” Taesan said without thinking, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he turned around, fully expecting Sungho to reprimand him for doing his job poorly again.

But when he turned, his words caught in his throat.

It wasn’t Sungho with his broad shoulders, ready to scold him. It was a girl.

A pretty one, at that.

You were stunning, with sparkling eye makeup that caught the light like stars and a half-empty Solo cup clutched in your hand. Your smile was teasing, but there was something about your energy that made Taesan forget how to breathe for a second.

Your wide eyes met his, and his heart did something weird. A small, unfamiliar skip. He cleared his throat, trying to shake the feeling, but it didn’t go away. You were too pretty. Too close. And for some reason, everything about you made the party fade away, even the thumping bass of the music and the chaos inside the house.

He immediately regretted his sarcastic quip.

You blinked once. Twice. Then, with an easy smile, said, “So, you’re really going to give me a full-body pat down?”

Taesan swallowed hard, cursing inwardly at his own awkwardness. He’d never been good at talking to pretty girls, and you, with your sharp eyes and mischievous grin, were making him feel like a fool.

“Uh, no,” he replied quickly, his voice awkward. “I was just, uh, joking.”

You raised an eyebrow, still smiling. “Oh? Too bad. I could’ve used a full-body check,” you teased lightly, glancing down at his clipboard. “But seriously, I’m looking for someone. Have they come in yet?”

Taesan blinked, completely thrown off his game. “Who?”

“Her name’s Ji-an. She’s—”

Taesan felt a sharp pang of guilt when he realized that he had no idea who had come in, much less if someone named Ji-an had arrived. He cursed himself internally. Turns out his half-assed guest checking routine wasn’t exactly working in his favor. Maybe he should’ve listened to Sungho.

“I—uh—yeah, sorry. I have no idea,” Taesan stammered, suddenly feeling like an idiot.

Your smile faltered slightly, but you didn’t seem upset. Instead, you shrugged. “It’s fine. I figured I’d ask anyway. I’ll just look inside.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry I wasn’t any help. I didn’t really—uh—” he trailed off, feeling even more awkward.

But you didn’t seem to mind. You tilted your head slightly, your smile returning. “You know, I have to say, the ‘full-body-pat-down’ idea has some potential. Maybe you should do that for everyone. Could be your new thing.”

Taesan blinked. “My new thing? As in, like, a career move?”

You laughed, and Taesan found himself smiling despite himself. “Sure, why not?”

The two of you bantered for a few more minutes and the tension in Taesan’s chest loosened with each passing second. He wasn’t the smoothest guy, but for some reason, it didn’t feel like he was completely messing up with you.

After a while, you gave him a friendly wave with a warm smile. “Well, thanks for the pat-down offer,” you said. “I have to go find my friend now.”

Taesan opened his mouth to say something, anything, but he couldn’t find the words. He should’ve offered to help, or at least asked for your name so he could tell you if he saw Ji-an. But he didn’t.

After you disappeared into the house, Taesan cursed himself, kicking the ground in frustration. “Idiot,” he muttered, rubbing a hand over his face.

Quickly racking his brain for any ideas, he spotted a nearby pledge as his eyes darted around in a frantic attempt to regain some sense of control over the situation. He grabbed the pledge by the shoulder, his voice sharp.

“Hey, find Woonhak,” Taesan instructed quickly. “Tell him to come back to the door so I can go inside. I gotta—uh, I gotta take care of something.”

Before the pledge could respond, Taesan was already darting into the house. He couldn’t waste another second. He had no idea where you had gone, but he couldn’t just let you slip away without at least trying. He pushed through the partygoers, the bass of the music vibrating in his chest as he made his way deeper into the house, hoping to spot you again.

But no matter how many people he bumped into, no matter how many faces he searched, you were nowhere to be seen. The house was a blur of bodies, the dance floor packed, conversations overlapping with laughter and the clink of bottles.

“Where the hell did she go?” Taesan muttered under his breath, frustration beginning to boil in his chest. He stood still for a moment, trying to focus, to catch his breath, but it didn’t help. You had disappeared into the crowd.

By the time he reached the bar area, Taesan’s determination had wavered, and he felt more ridiculous than ever. The bartender, someone he recognized from his BIO 265, gave him a nod as he slid onto a barstool. He needed something to take the edge off.

“Three shots of tequila,” Taesan said with a tired smile.

The bartender raised a brow but didn’t ask any questions. A few moments later, three glasses were set in front of him. Taesan didn’t hesitate. One after the other, he threw them back, the warmth and burn of the alcohol cutting through the mess of thoughts clouding his mind.

The shots hit him fast, the tipsy feeling spreading through his chest and head. The nervous energy he had been carrying around since the moment you walked up to him seemed to dissipate. He felt lighter, like the heavy weight of self-doubt was slowly lifting.

“Alright, alright, now we’re talking,” Leehan said as he slid into the empty spot next to him, a grin spreading across his face. “What’s going on, dude? You look like someone punched you in the gut for the past hour.”

Taesan slouched against the bar, his fingers tapping in time with the music. A small smile formed on his face despite himself.

“I… I messed up, dude,” Taesan started, his words slightly slurring, but not enough to lose coherence. “I talked to this girl, but I—ugh, I don’t even know why I said the stuff I did. I don’t know what came over me. She was cute, man. Like, really cute.”

“Alright, spill,” Leehan said, nudging him. “Give me all the deets. Maybe I can find this chick for you.”

Taesan huffed, running a hand through his hair. “She came up to me while I was covering my Little for door duty. She asked if someone was here, but because I’m so amazing and perfect at my job, I had no clue. We talked a little and then she… walked off.”

Leehan grinned, his curiosity piqued. “What’d she look like?”

“She was… pretty,” Taesan said, gesturing vaguely. “Like, really pretty. Sparkly eyes, Solo cup, electrifying smile. She was—ugh, I don’t know how to explain it.”

Leehan’s grin widened as he leaned back against the bar. “Sparkly eyes and an electrifying smile? What are you, a poet? Goddamn, someone’s got it bad. Did you at least get her name?”

Taesan groaned, burying his face in his hands. “No. She was looking for her friend, Ji-an. That’s all I know.”

Leehan let out a low whistle. “Man, you really blew it. But hey, this is a party. If she’s still here, we can find her.”

Taesan lifted his head, shooting his friend a skeptical look. “You’re not serious.”

“Dead serious.” Leehan clapped him on the shoulder, the force almost making Taesan lose his balance on the barstool. “You’ve been moping since you got here. Might as well do something about it. Come on, dude, let’s go.”

Taesan hesitated, the tequila in his system making his thoughts fuzzy. He wanted to protest, but deep down, he didn’t want to sit there all night replaying the interaction in his head. If there was even the slightest chance of finding you again, he couldn’t let it slip away.

“Fine,” he muttered, sliding off the stool. “But if this turns into some wild goose chase, it’s all your fault.”

Leehan laughed, already scanning the room like a man on a mission. “Relax, dude. I’ve got a good feeling about this. Let’s start with the dance floor. That’s where all the magic usually happens.”

The two of them weaved through the crowd, Taesan’s eyes darting from face to face in search of you. The party was in full swing with the music loud and the air thick with energy. People were dancing, laughing, and shouting over the loud bass, but Taesan couldn’t focus on any of it. His mind was consumed by the image of your teasing smile and the way your eyes had sparkled under the dim lights.

Ten minutes quickly turned into half an hour, and Taesan glanced over at Leehan dejectedly, who responded with a shake of his head from the other end of the room. They made their way to the center of the dance floor, meeting halfway with matching downcast looks.

“Sorry, dude. Riwoo said he saw some girl dragging a drunk Ji-an out not too long ago. That might’ve been your girl.” Leehan clasped his hand on Taesan’s shoulder. “Forget about her, man. There’s plenty of other fish in the sea.”

Taesan shook his head. “You don’t get it. She’s not someone you could easily forget about overnight.”

“You’ll be saying otherwise when you’re shitfaced by the end of the night. C’mon.”

Taesan did not say otherwise at the end of the night, but he did have something else to say to Leehan when he woke up the next morning with a splitting headache and a hangover bad enough to curdle milk.

He groaned when his alarm blared loudly, shrill beeps drilling into his skull like a jackhammer. His hand shot out from beneath the blanket, swiping at the nightstand in a desperate attempt to silence it. On the fourth swing, his fingers finally managed to find the snooze button, and for a moment, blissful silence returned.

But Taesan’s head continued to throb, each pulse serving as a cruel reminder of the series of events last night following his encounter with you.

“Leehan…” Taesan croaked, his voice rough and crackly. He barely managed to crack one eye open, but immediately shut it again when the daylight spilling through the blinds felt like knives stabbing into his brain. He groaned louder. “Leehan… you shit.”

“Nuh-uh. I’m off best friend duty,” came a muffled response from across the room. Leehan’s voice wasn’t any better than Taesans. “I don’t know a Leehan.”

Taesan tried to sit up—key word: tried. The room spun violently, and he immediately slumped back down as he clutched his temples. “Oh my God… I’m never letting you bartend ever again.”

Leehan gave no response, and Taesan became awfully suspicious that his best friend had fallen back asleep, at the luxury of no morning classes terrorizing his schedule. Lucky bastard.

Panic prickled at the edges of Taesan’s foggy brain. Morning class. He had morning class. And it was one of those unforgiving ones where attendance counted for more than 50% of his grade. Shit. He rolled out of bed, landing on the floor with a graceless thud. The impact sent another wave of nausea crashing over him, and he mumbled out another frenzy of colorful, obscene words.

Taesan crawled to his feet, using the edge of his rickety, old dorm bed for support. He staggered to the closet, pulling out the first clean shirt he could find. It was inside out. He didn’t care. Pants? Found them on the floor. Socks? Mismatched, but at least they were clean (he checked).

He stumbled into the bathroom, squinting at his reflection. His hair was a bird’s nest, and his face looked like it had been dragged through a gravel pit. He splashed cold water on his face, hoping it would shock some life back into him. It didn’t.

“You look like you were visited by the grim reaper himself,” Leehan called from the warmth and safety of his bed. Taesan was brimming with jealousy.

“Feel so much worse,” he muttered, gripping the sink to steady himself. He grabbed his toothbrush. The minty toothpaste felt like ice against his teeth, and for a second, he thought he might actually cry. By some miracle, Taesan made it back to his room, tugging on the first sweater he could find, followed by his bag slinging over one shoulder.

“If I die in class, tell my parents it’s all your fault,” he said, glaring weakly at Leehan.

Leehan saluted lazily from his bed. “Have fun, champ.”

Taesan didn’t dignify that with a response. He sprinted out the door, pushing down the urge to regurgitate everything he’s had to eat in the past 24 hours, and prayed to every deity he could think of that he’d make it to class in one piece.

Somehow, he did.

Taesan stumbled into the lecture hall with barely a minute to spare. His hoodie was pulled so far over his head, it nearly covered his eyes. He slid into a seat at the very back, slouching low to make it himself as inconspicuous as possible. The professor’s voice droned on at the front of the room, but Taesan wasn’t listening. He couldn’t. His mind was elsewhere, rewinding to last night. To you.

He could still picture your bright smile, teasing and playful. The way your eyes sparkled under the dim lights, like they held secrets he’d spend a lifetime trying to uncover. You had been so easy to talk to, like you’d known each other for years instead of minutes. He replayed the sound of your laughter ringing in his ears, the warmth of your hand brushing against his, the way his heart had skipped a beat when you looked at him with a twinkle in your eyes.

The short, five minute memory served as a lifeline, pulling him through the fog of his hangover. He barely noticed the minutes ticking by, and before he knew it, the lecture was over. Students began filing out as the sound of their chatter filled the air, but Taesan stayed seated for a beat longer. He was reluctant to leave the sanctuary of his thoughts. Of you.

Finally, he heaved himself to his feet and trudged out of the lecture hall, his body heavy with exhaustion. Coffee. He needed coffee—something hot and strong to chase away the remnants of his misery.

But then he saw you.

You were across the quad, walking with your bag slung casually over one shoulder. The sunlight hit you just right, catching in your hair and illuminating your face. Your presence cut through the haze in Taesan’s mind like a beacon, and he froze, his heart thudding painfully in his chest. For a moment, he forgot all about his headache, his nausea, the dryness in his throat, even the fact that he could barely stand upright.

All he could see was you.

And you were walking away, towards the main building.

It was like the universe had thrown Taesan a lifeline. He bolted down four flights of stairs, his bag bouncing against his back as he burst out of the building. He sprinted across the quad, ignoring the confused stares of his classmates.

Taesan’s lungs burned, and his legs felt like jelly, but he pushed forward, desperate to catch up to you before you disappeared again.

“Wait!” he called, his voice cracking slightly.

You turned, eyebrows raised in surprise. He skidded to a stop in front you, panting heavily both from the exertion and the sheer adrenaline of seeing you up close again. For a second, he couldn’t find the words. His mind had turned blank, except for the thought that you were prettier than he remembered.

“Door guy?”

“That full body security pat down is still on the table, if you want.”

Taesan’s words hung in the air, and his eyes widened in horror as he realized what he’d just said. He had blurt out whatever words first came to mind, not realizing that he sounded like a complete weirdo in front of you. His face turned bright red, and he opened his mouth to backtrack, but then you laughed—a warm, genuine laugh that sent his heart into overdrive.

“Smooth,” you said, still smiling. “Real smooth, door guy.”

Taesan rubbed the back of his neck, grinning sheepishly. “The name’s Taesan. I… I meant to say hi. But, uh, hi.”

“Hi, Taesan,” you replied, your smile softening. “I’m [Name].”

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cxtori · 7 months ago

Text

Satoru Gojo ✭ Kiss Me Back

wc: basically 5k… it wasn’t meant to be lmao

summary: based off of this thought i posted a while ago

genre: angst, fluff, drunk “confession” but it gets misunderstood, friends to lovers, silly drunk Gojo

warnings: n/a

tori’s note: I finished this fic after having it in my drafts for almost a year. I kinda strayed from how my original prompt went lol. Idk how I feel about the second half of this, I’m not a huge fan of it but y’know, it be what it be. Hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

Gojo doesn’t drink often. In fact, it’s more accurate to say he never drinks. He hates alcohol. The way it tastes, the way it burns, and especially how quickly it affects his system.

He’s always been a lightweight, it only taking a few shots before he was intoxicated. But for some reason, Shoko’s teasing pressure to get him to drink got to him a lot more tonight than usual.

It was supposed to be only one shot, then just one more. But now, here he is, a couple hours later and 6 shots down, drunk and stumbling, leaning against you for support.

You grunt as you struggle to keep the tall man vertical and walk him down the street to your car.

“You are amazing, Y/n,” Gojo slurs, wrapping his arm tighter around your neck. You huff and roll your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve said that 3 times already,” you laugh lightly. Gojo trips over his own foot, causing you to stumble and almost fall. Thankfully, you catch yourself and keep the two of you from crashing into the concrete.

“Jeez, Toru! Are you serious?” You ask, unbelieving that he was so intoxicated that he really couldn’t walk straight. Gojo only moans miserably in response. “We’re almost there,” you sigh.

You knew how much he hated the repercussions of drinking and tried to stop him before it was too late. But he seemed to be feeling a little self-destructive tonight, so your warnings fell on deaf ears, much to your annoyance. Even so, you still felt empathetic enough to take him home yourself, turning down Nanami’s kind offer to do so.

After another block of walking and stumbling, you finally make it to your car, opening the passenger side and awkwardly shuffling around as you try to help Gojo into the seat. It felt like he was purposefully doing everything he could to make this simple task as complicated as possible. Which, honestly, you wouldn’t put past him.

You eventually get him and his lanky limbs into the vehicle and hold back a laugh when he groans and dramatically drapes himself over your center console, arms spilling into the driver’s seat. You walk around to the other side of the car, moving his arms carefully before sitting down and pushing him to lean against the window.

“Okay, tough guy. You still have the water Nanami gave you?” You ask. Gojo clumsily reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out the water bottle he somehow managed to fit in there. Damn men’s pocket sizes.

“Good, I want it empty by the time I make it to your place,” you state, turning on the car and pulling into the street.

“The whole thing?” Gojo whines. You laugh breathily, finding amusement in his drunk demeanor.

“Yes, the whole thing. Gotta stay hydrated so drink up!” You encourage.

The white-haired man mutters a complaint as he cracks open the bottle, and you watch dumbfounded as he drains it in seconds.

“I didn’t mean drink it all at once…” you say. Gojo shrugs and sinks further into his seat.

You drive in silence for a few minutes, the pale, orange street lights whizzing by and the soft, white noise of the tires rolling on the pavement making the ride a peaceful, comforting experience. At least it would be if Gojo wasn’t staring holes into the side of your face.

In his drunkenness, he’d somehow managed to misplace his glasses and blindfold, much to your dismay. You adore those brilliant blue eyes, but damn, if they weren’t intimidating as hell when they were staring you down. You do your best to ignore it, keeping your eyes focused on the road ahead of you.

You feel your heart skip a beat when a cold, calloused finger presses gently against your temple before tracing your hairline, sweeping your hair behind your ear.

“You’re so pretty,” Gojo whispers, his words barely audible. Your breath catches in your throat, caught off guard by the sudden compliment.

“O-oh, umm… I- th-thank you,” you stutter horribly. Gojo hums softly as though he’s satisfied with your reaction before laughing lightly. His hand leaves your quickly heating face as he turns back to the window, slumping against the cool glass.

After what couldn’t have possibly even been a minute, you hear the faintest snore come from the man. You poke his arm, expecting some kind of reaction. But nope, he’s out.

You take a deep breath and start blasting the AC. It suddenly feels really stuffy in here.

You soon reach his house and pull into the driveway before parking the car and climbing out. You open the passenger door, being careful to not let Gojo dump out onto the ground. You shake his shoulders, whispering to him that he was home and needed to wake up. After some gentle-turned-vigorous shaking, the man wakes up bleary eyed and a bit confused.

“Have a nice nap, sleeping beauty?” You tease, taking his arm and attempting to pull him to his feet. He grunts, reluctantly swinging his feet out of the car and onto the ground. The moment he stands, he leans back against the car, his eyes squeezed shut in discomfort.

“Shhhhit, why did I do that?” He slurs, the alcohol still screwing with his brain. At least he’s more coherent than 30 minutes ago.

“Not to be like that, but I did try to stop you,” you joke.

“Shut up,” he groans. His eyes open and meet with yours, but instead of holding the annoyed glare you were expecting, they were soft, appreciative. His typically pale complexion was still dusted pink, though not nearly as flushed as earlier, and there’s the faintest hint of a smile to accompany it.

He leans against you, his arms snaking around your waist in a loose hug, and his head resting heavily on your shoulder as he sighs. “Thank you, Y/n.”

“Why don’t you thank me when I’ve gotten you inside!” You laugh awkwardly, pushing the large man off of you.

Gojo pouts, his soft, pink lips protruding in a way that could only be described as borderline sensual. You tear your eyes away from him and link your arm in his to walk him into the house with much less stumbling this time.

You make it inside, Gojo dragging down the hall to his room while you dig in his kitchen cabinets in search of ibuprofen. Once you’ve found what you’re looking for, you grab a glass and fill it with water before making your way to Gojo’s room.

You knock on the door, the sound echoing through the cold, empty hallway. A muffled “come in” reaches your ears and you open the door.

You step in and your eyes land on a half-naked Gojo sitting on his bed, stopping you in your tracks. He did say to come in, didn’t he?

He looks at you, a questioning expression written on his face. With everything he’s done this evening, it’s beginning to be hard to believe he’s not purposefully trying to fluster you.

You draw in a breath and walk over to him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you nervous.

“Here, for the potential hangover,” you say, handing him the pills and water. He takes it gratefully, downing the meds and water quickly. He sets the glass on the nightstand with a soft thunk, and an odd silence follows after.

“Well, I’m gonna head home now. G’night, Toru,” you say, turning on your heels and heading to the door. Your hand barely touches the doorknob when Gojo says your name.

“Y/n,” he calls quietly. You stop and turn to him with a questioning hum, but he doesn’t give any response back other than a waving hand, signaling for you to come back to him. You shuffle awkwardly to stand in front of him, confused about what he wants.

He stands up, his chest almost bumping against yours as he does so. You begin to take a step back, but before you can, his hands are on your waist, holding you in place. You look up at him to ask what he’s doing, but the words get stuck in your throat the moment your eyes meet his.

Those bright, cerulean eyes that were so often hidden from the world, were looking at you with such care and fondness that it made your chest tighten.

Before you’re even aware of what’s happening, his warm, soft lips are pressing tenderly against yours.

Your tense muscles relax and eyes flutter shut as your lips push back against his. His hands grip your waist as he pulls you closer to him before one lifts the back of your shirt, fingers dragging slowly over your skin.

You sigh into him, your own hands traveling up his arms, to his neck, eventually finding home in his silky hair. His other hand moves from your hip to your face, cupping your cheek as he deepens the kiss.

His tongue darts out and sweeps across your lips and the faintest lingering taste of bitter alcohol bites your tastebuds, snapping you back to reality. It’s only then that you remember who you’re kissing, where you are, and how you got there.

Your eyes fly open and hands move to his chest, pushing him away from you harshly. Gojo loses his balance, landing back into a sitting position on his bed, his once peaceful expression now shocked and confused.

Your hand covers your mouth, surprised by your own actions. It’s only a second or two that you stay there, staring at each other before you decide that you should definitely leave.

“I’m sorry, I need to go,” you say, wasting no time in leaving his room and ignoring his calls for you. You jump into your car and start the engine before your door is even closed.

What were you thinking? He’s the drunkest he’s been in ages, how could you let that happen? You curse yourself as you drive home, frustrated that you allowed such a thing when your friend was in such a vulnerable state.

You make it home and park in the driveway, but you don’t leave. You sit in your car and stare blankly at the steering wheel as the full weight of regret begins to sink in.

You’ve desperately wanted that man to kiss you for years now. But not like this! Not when he was intoxicated and most likely not thinking straight. You wanted a genuine kiss; one he gave you because he truly wanted to. Not because his drunk-self just wanted attention.

How are you supposed to keep your feelings for him under wraps after this?

You’ll just have to lie. You’ll tell him that it was just a slip up, that you were caught off guard. That he kissed you and- dammit, you kissed him back! And not only that, you were wrapping your arms around him. You can’t play off your feelings for him when you kissed him like that!

You groan painfully as you open your door and force yourself into your house, trudging your way to your room. You change your clothes and crawl into bed before plugging your phone in. The screen lights up with the red battery, which disappears quickly, revealing a missed call and several texts from Gojo.

I’m sorry Y/n. Can we please talk?

It wasn’t what you think

Y/n?

Hello?

He almost never texts you, let alone several times in a row. But you can’t find it in you to respond. You turn off your phone and stare at your ceiling for what feels like an eternity, the moment replaying in your mind on repeat.

It wasn’t what you think? What is he assuming you think?

You raise a finger to your mouth, remembering how it felt to have his lips on yours as you trace over them.

It was so warm, so sweet. The way he held you close to him, so strong yet gentle. The way his thumb stroked over your face so tenderly. Maybe… it was real.

No. You can’t allow yourself to believe it was genuine and get your hopes up, you can’t.

You roll over onto your side just as your screen lights up once more. You take a glance at it and find another text from Gojo.

I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Please let me explain.

A new wave of anxiety washes over you when you realize you’ll have to see him tomorrow. You do work at the same school after all. You don’t have a few days to process this or even find a way to respond.

You wrap tighter into yourself and painful tears fill your eyes, not taking long before they’re streaming down your face and soaking into your pillow. You just want the earth to open and swallow you.

Your only comfort is in the slim possibility that he was still drunk enough to have a chance of not having clear memories the next day. Maybe he’d wake up, see the messages he’d sent you and not even remember what it was about.

You know it’s a foolish hope. He wasn’t drunk enough during that kiss to have no recollection of it. Even so, it’s the only thought that calms you down enough to fall asleep.

Okay, all you have to do is file a couple reports, meet with Ijichi and Nitta, and check in with Shoko on a new corpse. You don’t even have to be on campus the whole day, just do your few tasks and leave.

You were not going to talk to Gojo today. You’re not sure your heart can handle it right now. You’ve barely even processed what happened last night. It’s like your mind is trying to convince you it was a dream. But the unanswered texts still sitting in your inbox say otherwise.

You decided you would do your best to avoid the inevitable conversation. You’re sure that when he sees you, he’ll likely confront you about it. But, if you were with others, you knew he’d keep his mouth shut. You can’t hide from him, but you make damn sure he can’t catch you alone.

You know you’ll have to talk about it eventually, just not today. And maybe not tomorrow. Or the day after that.

You take a deep breath as you walk into the school and head for Yaga’s office. You’re not too worried about bumping into Gojo here as he usually avoids this part of the school simply because he’s afraid of running into Yaga and being asked to do something he doesn’t want to.

You make it there without incident and knock on Yaga’s door before entering. Thankfully, your meeting doesn’t last long as you just have to turn in your reports and give him a quick rundown of your past week’s assignments.

Next was finding Ijichi and Nitta. Which meant going to the more common areas of the school. Which meant risking running into Gojo.

At this point, you were just hoping he decided to go MIA today as he typically did. Or maybe he’d be too hung over to even bother getting out of bed. Whatever the case may be, you just hoped he wouldn’t be behind the door to which you are about to enter.

You turn the doorknob quietly and poke your head in, finding no one but Ijichi sitting at a desk looking over a stack of papers, and you feel relieved. You step inside and Ijichi looks up, a small smile appearing once he sees it’s you.

“Ahh, Y/n. You’re a bit early,” he greets kindly.

“Haha, yeah. My meeting with Yaga didn’t take as long as expected,” you laugh softly as you walk over to the desk and take a seat across from the man. “Where’s Nitta?”

“She’s currently out with the first years. They were sent to investigate the disturbance you reported a few days ago. Turns out it was just a few Grade 3 curses roaming around.” Ijichi replies.

He shuffles the papers spread out on the desk into a few separate piles before picking up each one, shaking them into neat stacks and paper clipping them together.

“Oh, that’s good to know,” you say with a smile. “So, you said you and Nitta needed something?”

“Oh, yes. We wanted your opinion on-”

“Gooood morning!” A familiar voice calls happily as the door swings open. You hunch over in your chair and glue your eyes to the papers in front of you, not daring to look at the man. You didn’t think you would run into him this soon.

“Oh, goodmorning, Gojo,” Ijichi says.

“Ijichi,” Gojo greets and nods to his co-worker.

He turns to you, your eyes still studying the reports laying in front of you. It was obvious you weren’t reading them though, considering they were upside down to you. “Y/n,” he says quietly.

You still refuse to look at him, mumbling a barely audible “good morning” in return.

Ijichi, sensing some tension, clears his throat and returns to the matter that brought you here in the first place. He only had a few questions, wanting your opinion on which recent cases should be assigned to which students. It wasn’t long before you had fulfilled your need and could leave.

You say your goodbyes, stand from the desk and make your way to the door, still having not spared Gojo, who was leaning against one of the couches, even a glance.

Despite hiding his eyes behind that dark blindfold of his, you could tell he’d been staring at you the whole time. You could practically feel his gaze burning holes into your skin. But, just as you expected, he didn’t dare bring up anything about the previous night with Ijichi in the room.

You walk out the door, thankfully leaving Gojo behind it. But you weren’t sure how long he’d stay there. You make your way quickly through the halls as you head towards the morgue. You open the door and step inside, the cold air making your body shake with a chill.

You walk through, but find no sign of Shoko. Deciding that she must be in the office, you turn and start making your way over, it being just a couple doors down the hall.

You step outside of the morgue and about jump out of your skin when you’re met with blinding white hair. Gojo. Of course. You should’ve known he would catch up to you.

You stand there for a moment, him standing in the doorway and therefore blocking your exit. You still can’t bring yourself to look at him, not really, only giving him quick glances. It must be so easy for him to make “eye contact” when he doesn’t really have to.

“Can we talk?” He says, his voice taking on an unusually shaky and serious tone, and you suppress a sigh. Any hope you had of him not remembering last night shattered with those three words.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you say quietly, desperately wanting to avoid the impending conversation.

“Y/n,” he says, his large hand reaching carefully for your arm. You move quickly, avoiding his grasp.

“I don’t want to talk,” you say and push past him, making it through the doorway. You speed walk down the hallway to the morgue office, thankful that it’s just a few doors down. Gojo begins to say something but before he can, you’re knocking on the door, shutting him up quickly.

Shoko opens the door only a moment after you’ve knocked, silently stepping aside to let you in once she sees it’s you. Her neutral expression breaks a bit when she sees who’s behind you.

“Gojo, wasn’t expecting to see you today,” she says, referring to the rough condition he was in last night.

“I’m full of surprises, aren’t I?” He chuckles. He looks at you as he says this and you feel your face grow warm. Shoko walks over to her desk and shuffles through the various items in search of something.

“How are you feeling? You haven’t had that many drinks in a long time,” She asks curiously.

“I feel great actually. Y/n is a pretty good caretaker,” he says, once again looking over at you. “She’s the reason I’m not hungover.”

Yep, you certainly were. Maybe you should’ve skipped the water and ibuprofen. But that was before what happened. Past you had no idea that future you would be cursing that decision.

“He wasn’t too much trouble was he? Gojo’s always annoying when he’s drunk.” Like he’s not annoying when he isn’t drunk.

“He was fine,” you say plainly, wanting to move on from the topic.

“Fine is one way to put it,” Gojo says, an obnoxiously flirty smirk on his face. What happened to the serious and borderline nervous Gojo you had just a moment ago? Bring him back please.

“Maybe I should’ve let Nanami take you when he’d offered,” you mutter. Shoko turns back around to you, confused by the comments being made.

“Is that really what you would’ve wanted?” Gojo asks.

“If it means we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now, then yes.”

Shoko looks between the two of you, reading the looks on your faces and expertly deciphering that this was not a conversation she needed (or wanted) to be a part of.

“I’m not getting involved in this,” Shoko mutters as she collects her things and quickly leaves the room, abandoning you in this anxiety-inducing situation. “We can meet later, Y/n.”

“Ah! Wait, Shoko!” You call, but she ignores you and walks out the door. Well, this certainly isn’t what you wanted to happen. Now you had no excuse to leave and apparently didn’t have anyone to have your back. You knew Shoko saw your plea for help in your eyes and she actively ignored it. But, it is Shoko. She always avoids getting involved in things that don’t concern her.

The silence that follows Shoko’s leaving is so incredibly deafening and you hope the ground will open up beneath you. You debate leaving, but you know that Gojo will just follow you. There was no escaping it now. Dammit, and you were so close to getting out without speaking to him.

You cross your arms over your chest and lean against the desk, your eyes glued to the floor.

“Y/n,” Gojo speaks softly. You refuse to look at him. You can’t. You don’t know what will happen if you do. “Y/n.” He steps closer to you and you sink further into yourself, feeling your throat tighten. “Let me explai-”

“What did you mean?” You close your eyes, finding yourself talking before you can even comprehend the words leaving your mouth.

“What?” Gojo says, confused. You sigh, annoyed with yourself now for having said anything.

“Your text. You said it wasn’t what I thought it was. What did you mean?” Gojo looks at you. Well, you assume he’s looking at you. He could be looking at the wall behind you for all you knew.

“I…” Gojo starts but doesn’t finish. He sighs quietly and leans against the chair in front of you. He doesn’t attempt to speak again for a long moment and you begin to wonder if he even plans to. And you’re right, he doesn’t speak. But instead, his hand reaches for the dark blindfold hiding his eyes, and he pulls it down around his neck, his snow white hair falling into his face.

You tear your eyes away as soon as he does, not able to bear even the thought of looking at him directly in those blue irises. Luckily, you’re not tempted to as he keeps his head down, his hair shielding his eyes from your view.

“I remember everything from last night,” the man says finally. You feel your heart sink. You knew he remembered, but for some reason, hearing him say so only made your anxiety worsen. “You didn’t give me a chance to say goodbye last night,” he says with a mild, teasing tone, though it was made with minimal effort, the tension in the room making it hard to joke playfully.

Your arms tighten around you and your throat burns, your eyes remaining focused on everything but him.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t expect to be leaving in such a hurry either,” you say, risking your voice breaking into tears. Gojo chuckles.

“I thought you’d stay for a bit longer after the way you were kissing me,” He jokes, and this time it has his usual lightheartedness to it. Despite that, you feel your blood run hot through your body and for a moment you forget that you’re avoiding looking at him. Your eyes whip over to see him already looking at you, a smirk on his lips.

“Wha- you kissed me!” You whisper yell, afraid that someone outside may hear you. You can’t believe him. HE made a move on YOU, and yet he wants to talk about the way you were kissing HIM?

“Buuut, you kissed me back!” He says accusingly but airily. You close your mouth at this. He’s right, you did. And this is just what you were afraid of, him realizing that you kissing him back meant you actually enjoyed it if only a little. You couldn’t hide it.

“And I shouldn’t have, I’m sorry,” you say quietly. You turn your gaze away just in time to miss the way Gojo’s face twitches and his smile drops. Before you can’t stop yourself, you continue to speak, the coil in your throat snapping and the tears beginning to well in your eyes.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you back. I shouldn’t have let you kiss me to begin with. But please, I don’t want to hear what you have to say about it. I know you were drunk and it was a mistake just… Please, don’t tell me that.”

The silence that follows your statement is so quiet that you can hear Gojo’s uneven breaths alongside your own. You feel the urge to run, to walk out the doors and never turn back. To find a hole somewhere to bury yourself in, never to resurface.

“You think I made a mistake?” Gojo’s words barely reach your ears, his voice so soft you almost have to strain to hear it. He looks at you, completely dejected. “Even if I did feel that way, do you think I’d come here to mock you for it? Do you think I’d be that cruel?” The hurt in his voice is so obvious that you can feel it yourself.

“I… I don’t know.” Truthfully, you did know. You knew he wouldn’t do something like that. He may be annoying, but he’s not cruel. It was out of your own fear of the outcome that you were avoiding this conversation. But then, two words in his statement stand out to you.

Even if.

Meaning even if it was a mistake. Meaning he didn’t think it was?

The tears welling in your eyes begin to fall when you dare to look up at him, his own already on you. But you don’t look away this time.

“Would you have kissed me if you were sober?” You ask quietly. Gojo’s shoulders slump and his face grows longer at your words. He takes a cautious step towards you, testing to see if you’ll back away. And you don’t.

“Y/n, I didn’t kiss you because I was drunk,” he replies, his voice smooth as silk. He takes another step forward, this time reaching out a hand to place on your arm, and you don’t pull away.

“That’s what I meant when I said it wasn’t what you thought. I knew you figured it was an alcohol-influenced choice. And while the alcohol admittedly may have had something to do with it, that wasn’t why I did it.” Your vision blurs as you begin to cry, your tears feeling like rivers of fire as they flow down your cheeks.

“I did it because I wanted to, Y/n,” he admits. He lifts a hand to your face, wiping your tears as he strokes your cheek with his knuckles. “It wasn’t a mistake. It was a choice. And one I don’t regret.”

You close your eyes, not being able to see with them open anyway. His other hand moves from your arm to swipe at your tears, both hands now cupping your face tenderly.

“I don’t know what to say,” you mumble. You raise your hands to wrap your fingers around his wrists, your thumbs stroking over the back of his hands. You open your eyes, your vision clear enough to see him looking at you fondly, a genuine smile tugging at the corners of his lips. His soft lips that, in the back of your mind, you’ve been thinking about all morning.

Your gaze must have lingered on his mouth for a moment too long as his smile widens. He comes closer to you, his head towering over yours and his hands guide your face to continue looking at him.

“You don’t have to say anything right now. But.” He leans his face to yours, his warm breath against your lips. “I would like to kiss you again. And I hope you won’t run away this time.” His voice lilts in that familiar, teasing tone and your heart twists.

“I won’t,” you say with a breathless laugh.

His large hands continue to hold your head as he moves forward, wasting no time in putting his lips against yours in a passionate but tender kiss.

And this time, you let yourself kiss him back.

©Cxtori 2024 please do not copy, plagiarize, repost or translate. reblogs appreciated

#☆彡tori writes #꥟hey queuetie #i’m back bbs #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo angst #gojo x you #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo fluff

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hier--soir · 2 years ago

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sleepy

pairing: joel miller x f!reader summary: joel is out like a light, but you can only think of one thing that will help you fall asleep. warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] established relationship, f!masturbation, masturbating next to sleeping partner, unprotected piv, cockwarming, mild dirty talk, soft joel. word count: 2.7k a/n: this one is for the folks with sleep problems lmao. hope you guys enjoy—any feedback is appreciated!

Your bedroom was pitch-black, the curtains drawn to protect against any slivers of light shining in and disturbing either of you in the morning. Rain pattered softly against the roof, comforting you as you lay awake in the darkness.

Joel was dead asleep beside you.

His bare chest rose and fell with rhythmic deep breaths, soft lips parted to allow quiet snores to escape. After an hour or so your eyes had adjusted to the dark, and you were able to make out the fuzzy outline of his face and body, the way his forehead had smoothed out in his sleep, and how his hair pressed against his forehead from being shoved into the pillow.

It was something you’d never understood—the way most men could simply close their eyes and drift into sleep within minutes. Every man you’d ever dated, slept with, or even slept in the same room as; they were all the same. A few minutes of silence before their breathing evened out into soft snores, body relaxing into the mattress as they disappeared into dreamland. It wasn’t fair.

You’d struggled with sleep since you were a teenager. No matter how busy your days were, or how much physical labour you undertook, your mind whirred at night, endlessly awake until you’d exhausted all avenues of thought, and you’d wake the next morning with no recollection of ever falling asleep.

And when you’d first met Joel, you’d discovered it was much the same for him. Fierce nightmares plagued him at night, terrified him out of falling asleep until he physically couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer, only to fitfully rouse him at multiple points throughout the evening. But as your relationship grew over the years, the pair of you settled. You got comfortable, and suddenly all it took was wrapping your arms around one another and you could both pass out with a snap of your fingers.

But on days like this—ones where you’d wiled the hours away reading and doing laundry and eating your meals alone and being terribly fucking bored—you felt old habits rear their ugly head, as you laid down for bed and found yourself wide awake. And yet you couldn’t be mad at him, didn’t even contemplate frustration or jealousy, because his day had been vastly different to yours.

When you’d woken up that morning to find his side of the bed empty, the cold sheets signalled that he’d risen far earlier than you. A note left on the kitchen counter told you that he’d been called out to fill a patrol spot for someone who was under the weather, and that he wouldn’t be home until late. It wasn’t necessarily out of the ordinary for him to do favours like that for people, and so you’d gone about your day as usual, performing mundane tasks and chores, milling about with no real goals set for yourself.

And when he did get home, well after sunset, he looked worse for wear. Sodden clothes stuck to his skin as he kicked off waterlogged boots, mumbling under his breath about needing to trade for some thicker socks. It had been raining for hours. What started with soft spitting in the early afternoon had quickly turned into a thunderstorm, and Joel and Tommy had been caught in the thick of it all evening. Fat droplets of cold water oozed out of his hair and rolled down his face, slipping under the collar of his shirt to send shivers down his spine.

He looked positively miserable as he shed the soaked layers by the door, impervious to the sympathetic look you were offering from the couch. Only when he was down to his underwear and t-shirt did he spare a glance in your direction, gaze softening.

“Long day?” you asked softly.

“Long day,” he confirmed, not making a move to come any closer, lest he get any of the rainwater on you.

“Tell me about it,” you prompted, padding across the room to him.

“I’d rather hear about yours,” he retorted earnestly, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to your cheek.

And so you led him up the stairs and into the bathroom, detailing how you’d managed to get their washing done before the rain properly set in. And as he stepped under the warm spray of the shower, you told him about Ellie stopping by for a movie in the afternoon.

He hummed to signal that he was listening, but you could see how the day hung heavy on his shoulders. His head slumped forward under the stream, thick steam filling the air as he lazily rubbed a bar of soap along his skin with one hand and brushed his teeth with the other.

“Sounds like a nice day,” Joel smiled as he shut off the water, stepping out into a towel you had ready for him. You nodded, feeling somewhat guilty that he’d listened all about it, knowing his had been the complete opposite.

But he didn’t seem bothered, herding you towards the bedroom where he pulled you underneath the covers, pressing a few soft kisses to your cheeks before he relaxed back into his pillow. Cue: a few brief minutes of silence, breaths growing heavier, and then snoring. And god he deserved it. You watched him for a while, smiling softly at the sight of the man you loved so dearly, your life partner through thick and thin, getting the rest he so needed.

It was lovely… for the first thirty minutes. And then an hour passed. And then it got closer to two hours, and you could hear the leaky shower faucet dripping from down the hall, and the trees rustling against the side of the house, and you were so fucking awake.

The thought flashed through your mind, as it always did when you couldn’t sleep.

Maybe if you just….

Having an orgasm was the only thing you could think of that might tire you out enough to have you falling asleep in seconds. The way the muscles in your arm would get sore, and your entire body would go from tense to lax within minutes. It was enough to have warmth flood your bones and dopamine zap through your brain – and would definitely put you to sleep in a heartbeat. You felt guilty, though, as you contemplated it. Masturbating in front of Joel was common, and was something he often encouraged during sex, dragging your hand between your thighs and encouraging you to touch yourself while he got undressed. But doing it while he was asleep beside you was territory you’d never dipped your toe into before.

Is this perverse? Am I being creepy? What if he wakes up and is horrified?

Well, you told yourself. You just have to make sure that he doesn’t wake up.

Slowly, so as not to disturb the blankets too much, you slid your palm across your stomach until your fingers cupped your sex over your underwear. You stroked your fingers across the material, teasing yourself a little, trying to inspire some kind of horniness. And after a few minutes of gentle touching you could feel a warmth brewing in your stomach, a desire.

Carefully, you tugged your underwear down your legs before swiping your tongue across your middle and ring finger, lubricating them before you pressed them between your folds. You swiped at your entrance, collecting the small amount of slick that had formed there and spreading it across your core. A soft puff of air left your mouth as your fingertips connected with your clit for the first time, thighs tensing as you circled over it with fierce precision. This wasn’t about fun and games or prolonging the experience – this was about finishing as fast and as quietly as possible, and then going the fuck to sleep.

You took care not to move your arm too quickly, tensing your bicep to keep it still while your fingers circled and stroked and flicked against your clit, trying to find the perfect rhythm. A slow tightening began to build in your lower stomach as you discovered the right spot, the right speed, and you quickly pushed a finger inside yourself, collecting more of your slick before returning to your now aching bundle of nerves, the added lubrication making it easier to move.

A harsh exhale to your right made you pause for a moment, limbs stiffening as you waited to see if Joel had woken up. But a moment later his breathing steadied, and you relaxed, fingers continuing their quick movements.

Your forearm burned, muscles tensing with the struggle of keeping still but also providing enough friction to bring you to the edge. And as you felt your high approaching, you struggled to keep your breathing quiet, as heavy, laboured exhales forced themselves past your chapped lips. With your blood rushing in your ears and your middle finger drawing figure eights against your sensitive clit, you could feel it. You were so close, so fucking close, just five more secon—

“What are you doin’?”

The words were accompanied by a warm hand landing on top of your own, long fingers hovering over yours to see if he was correct; if you were touching yourself. A short gasp of surprise left you and your fingers froze, orgasm slinking away, disappearing from reach. Fuck.

“Shit, sorry,” you mumbled breathlessly, a little embarrassed to have been caught. “I can’t sleep and it’s been hours, and m’just trying to make myself sleepy, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise.” Joel’s voice was rough and gravelly from sleep, and you bit back a whimper at the sound of it, fingers twitching against your pulsing centre. He moved on the bed, shifting closer so you could feel the warmth of his chest against your side. “Should’ve woken me up baby, would’ve helped tire you out.”

As he spoke, his hand tightened over yours, pushing your fingers to continue moving. Shyly, you began to circle your clit again, attempting to make out his expression through the darkness. For a moment, you swore you could see him grinning.

“You had a bad day,” you whispered raggedly. “Need the rest, I—fuck—didn’t mean to w-wake you.”

While you chattered away, a thick finger dipped into your folds, stroking against the pool of wetness that rested at your entrance. Your fingers sped up, the warmth of his body helping you chase the high you’d come so agonisingly close to. He exhaled heavily, forehead dropping against your shoulder.

“Christ,” he sounded pained. “You’re fucking—soaked. Were you thinkin’ ‘bout me?”

“Wasn’t thinking about anything,” you murmured honestly. “Just—ungh—just wanted to come, knew it’d help me fall asleep.”

“Poor baby,” he tutted, nosing at the side of your neck. “Need somethin’ to come on, hmm? Is that it?”

“Yes,” you mewled, hips shifting desperately upward into your hand now that you weren’t afraid of your movements waking him up. He dragged his hand away from you, using it to remove his underwear and then you could feel him against your hip, solid and hot and throbbing. He must have been listening for a moment, hearing you work yourself up. Your mouth went dry, stomach tensing at the feeling of him.

“Yes what, honey?”

“Need something to come on,” you repeated his words, grateful that he couldn’t see the sheer desperation on your face in the darkness.

A strong hand gripped your hip, gently pushing your body until you were laying on your left side and facing the wall. And then he was there, hot chest pressing against your back, lips dragging along the shell of your ear as he manoeuvred your legs into the best position for him to drag the aching tip of his cock through your drenched folds.

He exhaled heavily at the feeling, taking a moment to lube himself up with your slick before notching his head at your entrance. Your fingers were still against your clit, eyes closed as you waited for him to press in.

One arm slithered underneath your head, wrapping around your shoulders to hold you firmly against his chest and allow you to rest the side of your head on his bicep. His other hand held you still, fingertips pushing into your flesh as he flexed his hips, dragging his cock halfway into you. You gasped, pushing your ass back into him, mumbling some nonsense under your breath like ineedyou and pleasejoel and fuck.

He tried to control his breathing, but hot heavy puffs of air tickled the back of your neck as his pelvis came flush to the soft round of your ass, and then he was bottoming out, the full length of him slipping easily inside of you. A low moan dragged its way up your throat and you clutched deliriously at the arm around your torso, griding yourself back against him. But he didn’t budge an inch.

“Go on, baby,” Joel rasped against your ear. “Make yourself come.”

A soft cry of frustration left you, but your hand dropped between your thighs within a second. Your walls fluttered around him, squeezing his length as you began to rub your clit in soft, slow motions at first. He murmured quiet encouragements in your ear with that deep, coarse drawl that drove you crazy, his thumb rubbing against your waist as you rutted against him. He was heavy inside you, bringing a delicious burn to your cunt that you always loved, a beautiful medley of pleasure and pain that had you careening towards the orgasm that had dangled so painfully out of reach for however long.

Joel’s teeth nipped at the sensitive skin below your ear, no doubt leaving a mark as he licked and sucked over the sore spot he’d caused. You gasped at the sensation, tilting your chin up to give him better access to your neck. He squeezed your hip appreciatively, leaning closer to sponge messy kisses along your racing pulse point. Your fingers moved fast against yourself now, circling and rubbing messily, and unintentional moans were spilling from your lips as you felt the coil in your stomach start to draw tighter and tighter.

“Joel,” you choked, hips bucking relentlessly as you searched for more friction, but he still didn’t give you anything.

“C’mon,” he urged. “I know it feels so good, honey, keep goin’. You’re so close, I can—shit—I can feel it, c’mon now give it t’me.”

It didn’t take much more than that for you to start twitching, body convulsing against him as your orgasm tore through you. Your arm burned as you continued to rub your clit, fucking yourself through it as your walls clamped down around him.

He groaned softly in your ear, grip on your waist tightening just a fraction as he pressed forward, giving you a hint of a thrust to prolong your high. You cried out, mouth hanging open in elation as waves of pleasure rolled through you. It was euphoric, and exactly what you needed. Your hand stilled after a minute, and then you were simply rocking against him, riding out the aftershocks.

After a while, the ringing in your ears died down and pinpricks of feeling returned to your fingers as you released the death grip you had on his arm around you.

You slumped against him, the only tension remaining in your body being in your neck as you tried to keep your head up. Your eyelids had grown heavy, and you could feel your body relaxing into the post-orgasm haze that you’d been seeking so desperately.

“Good girl,” he murmured, lathing soft kisses against the edge of your jaw. “Feelin’ tired now?”

You hummed sleepily in response, walls fluttering around him. He let out a low groan but didn’t move.

“Sleep, darlin’,” he said quietly, arms tightening to keep your back flush to his chest.

You could feel how hard he still was, cock pulsing inside you every few moments. But his body was heavy, arms like lead draped over you, and his head had already dropped down to rest against the pillow again. He was exhausted.

“Can we stay like this?” you asked drowsily, shifting your hips to show what you meant.

Joel squeezed your hip in confirmation, and you murmured gratefully. His warmth shrouded your body, filling you up and enveloping you, keeping you safe as your muscles slackened entirely, chin dropping to your chest.

A soft, stilted thank you was the last thing you could muster before sleep clouded your brain and pulled you under. Finally.

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #my writing #sleepy

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pnutbutter-n-j-elyy · 13 days ago

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When You Call Them Clingy| Hyungline Pt2

Hyungline x Gn! Reader

(sorry this took like forever lmao ive been going through it in life unfortunately💀💀💀 )

Bangchan

The hum of the studio was still present, but now it felt different- less like a comforting embrace and more like static electricity prickling your skin.

The once-warm atmosphere had turned cold, muted, and the silence stretched like a chasm between you and Chan.

He didn��t ask if you needed anything anymore. He didn’t look at you at all.

The first hour after your slip-up had been the worst. You’d sat there, staring at the screen of your phone, scrolling aimlessly to avoid looking at him. But your thoughts betrayed you, circling back to the look on his face when you’d called him clingy- the hurt in his eyes, the faint slump of his shoulders, the way his movements slowed, as though your words had drained the energy out of him.

This is almost unbearable... You thought to yourself. I've never been uncomfortable around Chris before, rather the complete opposite...I don't like this.

You had apologized in your head a dozen times already, running over how you could bring it up without making things worse. But every time you glanced his way, you found yourself frozen, the words dying in your throat.

I was harsh...I'm feel horrible...

Chan wasn’t usually one to sulk, but this was different. He didn’t seem angry-he didn’t snap or lash out.

Although you wished he would have. It may have been better than this thick tension.

But instead of yelling or cursing, he buried himself in his work, shutting you out completely. His usual hums and absentminded muttering as he worked were nowhere to be found. The tapping of keys and the occasional adjustment of a dial were the only sounds that filled the room.

It felt unbearable.

After almost two hours of sitting in silence, the tension was too much. You shifted in your chair, swallowing the lump in your throat as you finally spoke up.

“Chan,” you said softly, your voice hesitant.

He didn’t respond immediately. His fingers paused over the keyboard, but he didn’t turn to look at you.

“Yeah?” he said, his tone neutral- too neutral.

You winced. “I didn’t mean to sound so harsh earlier. I-” You rushed out.

“It’s fine,” he cut you off, his voice tight, clipped.

But it wasn’t fine. You could hear it in the way his words came out too quickly, the way he immediately went back to typing as though he hadn’t just brushed you off.

Serves me right...

You tried again. “It’s not fine. I shouldn’t have said that.”

He let out a breath, finally turning his chair to face you. His expression was guarded, a carefully constructed mask of calm, but his eyes gave him away.

“Look,” he said, his voice soft but firm. “I get it. I was being overbearing. I just…I thought I was helping. I'll ease up from now on."

The words hit you like a punch to the chest. He wasn’t trying to defend himself- he was agreeing with you, accepting blame where there wasn’t any to take.

And you didn't want him to agree.

“You- you were helping,” you said quickly. “I was just… overwhelmed, and I didn’t think before I spoke. I-I don't want you to ease up...I love you the way you are.”

Chan nodded slowly, but the way his jaw tightened told you he wasn’t convinced.

“Sometimes I overdo it,” he said, a small, self-deprecating smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “I don’t know how to…not worry about the people I care about. Or love.”

Your heart sank. He wasn’t just talking about you. He was talking about himself, about how he carried the weight of everyone’s needs on his shoulders, even when it wasn’t his responsibility.

“And I made you feel like you couldn’t breathe,” he added, almost to himself.

“No,” you said quickly, leaning forward. “That’s not what I meant. You’re always so thoughtful, Chan. I just…” You trailed off, struggling to put your feelings into words. "I...uh...damn it..."

He tilted his head, waiting for you to continue, but there was a distance in his gaze now- an invisible barrier you hadn’t seen before.

“I don’t want you to feel like you’re doing something wrong,” you said finally, your voice trembling. “Because you’re not. I was just having a bad day, and I-”

“Don’t worry about it,” he interrupted again, standing abruptly. “It’s getting late. I should wrap this up anyway.”

You blinked, startled by the sudden shift in his tone.

It wasn’t angry, but it was dismissive.

Final.

“Chan-”

“Seriously, it’s fine,” he said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You should get some rest. I’ll finish up here.”

The dismissal stung more than you expected. You stood up, hesitating for a moment, unsure if you should push further or give him space. But the way he had already turned back to his desk made the decision for you.

“Okay,” you said quietly, your voice barely audible.

You grabbed your bag and made your way to the door, glancing back one last time. Chan was hunched over his keyboard, his back to you, the soft glow of the monitor casting shadows across his face.

“Goodnight,” you murmured.

He didn’t respond.

As you headed out he called out.

"Y/N."

You turned towards him, hopeful.

"You don't have to come tomorrow. Ji...sung-ah and...Innie-ah are supposed to be here to work on something with me."

You sighed and bit the inside part of your lip. He was terrible at lying.

Then a small rush of unrighteous anger hit you.

"Thats okay, I had plans anyways." You shot back, leaving. You almost missed the surprised look as he lifted his head from his bag.

The walk home was a blur. The guilt in your chest felt heavier with every step, suffocating you until you could hardly breathe.

But now that guilt stemmed from also saying something to purposefully provoke him.

Why would I even say that? I have no reason to be mad- but he...he has all the reason to be.

You thought about texting him, but what could you say? Nothing you typed out felt like enough. Apologizing once wasn’t going to fix this.

And you were too prideful to admit your pettiness.

It's embarrassing...

When you finally got home, you dropped your bag by the door and sank onto the couch, burying your face in your hands. You replayed all the moments over and over in your head, wishing you could go back and choose different words, wishing you could make him understand how much he meant to you.

But then your anger driven words hit you. You just loved digging yourself deeper graves. So, you pulled out your phone and shot a text.

Deciding that if you were at a standstill with each other, you at least wouldn't lie to him.

——————————————————————————

Minho

The next morning, you woke up feeling a mix of guilt and lingering irritation. Sleep hadn’t come easy, your mind replaying the events from the previous night like a broken record. You had lashed out, hurt him, and now there was this gnawing uncertainty about where things stood.

You debated texting Minho to apologize, but the thought of his cold tone from last night stopped you. The memory of his quick, hollow kiss on your temple was like a dull ache in your chest- a reminder of how much damage had been done.

You sighed as you reached for your phone, jumping when you see a text from Minho.

Minho: Dori didn't even wait for me to finish preparing his breakfast before eating Soonie's. Such a menace.

You stared at the text for a long moment, unsure of what to make of it. It wasn’t unusual for him to send updates about his cats, but this felt like an attempt to return to normalcy without directly addressing what had happened.

Should I respond? Should I apologize? You wanted to, but the thought of putting your emotions into words felt daunting.

Instead, you liked the message, telling yourself you’d figure it out later. But as the day dragged on, and you found yourself unable to focus on anything. By the evening, your phone buzzed, breaking you from your thoughts.

Minho: Did you eat?

The question was simple, almost routine, but it held a strange weight. And you were unsure how to respond.

Was this his way of reaching out, or was he just trying to check a box out of habit?

You hesitated before typing back: You: Yeah. Did you?

His reply came almost immediately: Minho: Mhm. Chan-hyung made japchae. Ate while working. Minho: Also, three cups of pudding.

You couldn't help but let out a little giggle. You could picture him in his studio, his face reflected in a the mirrors, as he sat crisscross on the dance floor, scribbling choreo ideas, spoon in one hand and a cup of pudding beside him. The image tugged at your heartstrings in the way only a lover could do.

You: Busy day? Minho: Always.

You sighed and rested your head on the back of your couch.

Short. Not necessarily clipped, but there were no teasing or playful jabs. No emojis. Just facts. It felt so unlike him, and it hurt more than you wanted to admit.

You could feel the awkwardness as if he was sitting in the room with you.

You: I’m sorry about last night. You typed out a response, then deleted it, then typed it again. Finally, you settled on: You: I miss you.

The three dots signaling his response appeared, then disappeared, then reappeared. You held your breath, waiting.

Minho: Yeah...

You: I'm sorry.

Minho: It's fine.

It wasn’t fine. You knew that. The lack of warmth in his reply was enough to confirm it.

You: It doesn’t feel fine. Minho: Maybe it’s not...

There it was. The crack in the veneer. Your chest tightened as you stared at his words. You wanted to fix it, to make it right, but you didn’t know how.

You: Can we talk? Minho: Not right now. I’m tired.

The conversation ended there. You stared at the screen long after his reply, the words “I’m tired” echoing in your mind. It wasn’t just physical exhaustion he was talking about. He was emotionally drained, and you were the reason.

You: Okay, goodnight. I love you. Minho: Night. I love you too.

Over the next two weeks, things didn't get much better.

You hadn't seen him in person, and only had a few video calls where anytime you tried to bring up an apology, Minho deflected the conversation.

It felt like more of an awkward and intimate friendship interacting rather than a couple. And you needed to change that. You couldn't handle it. You missed your boyfriend.

Minho had always been steady, a constant in your life. You hadn’t realized how much of a lifeline he was until you cut it with a single careless word.

Clingy.

The way his expression had shifted when you said it- it haunted you. Minho, who rarely let his emotions crack the surface, had been hurt. You’d seen it, felt it in the way he pulled back from you. And you wanted to pull him back towards you.

That’s what brought you to his house a few nights later, your chest tight with desperation and dread. You didn’t have a plan, just a need to be near him, to try and fix what you’d broken.

The porch light cast a faint glow as you arrived, the sight of it familiar yet unsettling. You hesitated at the keypad, your fingers trembling as you entered the code. For a moment, you feared he might have changed it, but the lock clicked open with a soft, mechanical hum.

The sound felt louder than it should have in the quiet night, and your heart ached with the thought that you still knew this house so well.

You stepped inside, the warmth of the entryway doing little to ease the chill in your bones.

“Minho?” Dori was the only cat by the door, immediately rushing to you to rub up against your legs. "Min?"

Your voice was soft, tentative, as you slipped off your shoes and into slippers, but it went unanswered.

The faint murmur of voices reached you from the living room. You moved toward the sound, your footsteps hesitant.

And then you saw them.

She was sitting on the couch, her laughter carrying easily in the stillness of the house.

Minho was beside her, close enough that the space between them seemed insignificant. His expression, one that had been so cold and was open-relaxed in a way you hadn’t seen in minute.

Your stomach twisted painfully, the scene before you crashing down like a tidal wave.

You must have made a sound, because Minho’s head turned sharply in your direction. His eyes widened, surprise etched across his face.

“Y/N?”

The girl followed his gaze, her expression a mix of confusion and mild curiosity.

You froze, your pulse hammering in your ears.

“I-” The words caught in your throat, your mind scrambling to come up with an explanation for why you were here, standing uninvited in his doorway.

“Y/N-ah, wait-” He said, scrambling up from the couch, tripping over Dori who had decided to join the party.

But you were already backing away.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” you said quickly, your voice cracking as you stumbled toward the door. You knocked into the cats water bowl, soaking your feet. The lump in your throat threatened to choke you, but you forced the words out. “I’ll just- go.”

Minho reached for you, his movements sharp and deliberate. “Don’t-”

You didn’t wait for him to finish, pulling away. The door slammed shut behind you, the cold air biting at your skin as you stepped into the night.

You didn’t realize you were still wearing the house shoes Minho had bought for you months ago until you were halfway down the street, your steps uneven on the pavement. The absurdity of it made your throat tighten, but the tears came before the laughter could.

Your vision blurred as you walked aimlessly, the weight in your chest pressing down until it felt hard to breathe. You could still see her face, hear her laugh. It was seared into your mind.

There is no way he could have moved on in just two weeks...right?

Could he have...no. Never.

But had he?

You didn’t know either way. And you couldn’t bring yourself to stay long enough to find out.

Back at the house, Minho stood frozen by the door. Doongie let out a soft mew, as if speaking.

"I know..." Minho said to the cat.

His jaw clenched as he stared at the space where you’d been, staring at where your shoes were left, your sudden departure leaving a suffocating silence along with them.

“Minho?” the girl called hesitantly, her voice breaking through the tension.

He turned to her, his expression unreadable.

“You should go.” he said finally, his tone flat.

Her brows furrowed in confusion, but she didn’t argue. She gathered her things quickly, giving Doongie a quick scratch, the sound of her footsteps fading as the door closed behind her.

Minho sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair as he leaned against the wall. His gaze fell to the floor, and for the first time, he noticed the trail of damp footprints leading to the door- proof of your hurried escape.

You hadn’t even waited to hear him out.

He wanted to chase after you, to get an explanation for why you’d come in the first place.

But he didn’t move. Instead, he stood there in the silence, the weight of your absence pressing down on him; and he was stuck wondering how something you caused had now become a snowballed issue he needed to resolve.

——————————————————————————

Changbin

You sat there frozen, the echo of his quiet, defeated tone playing on a loop in your mind. It wasn’t like him to leave like that- without a fight, without reassurance, without trying to smooth things over. He had always been one to want to ease conflict in the calmest manner.

Your eyes drifted to the coffee table where his phone sat, screen dark and mocking in the dim light. He must’ve forgotten it in his rush to leave, and the realization sent a pang of guilt straight to your chest. You couldn’t even call him to try and make things right.

With trembling hands, you picked up his phone, turning it over in your palm. It was a small, insignificant thing, but it felt like the only connection you still had to him.

The weight of Hyunjin’s text was heavier now, replaying in your mind like a cruel taunt.

He had planned to propose tonight.

And you had ruined it.

You pressed the phone to your chest, swallowing hard against the lump in your throat. You couldn’t stop picturing the way his face had fallen, the light in his eyes dimming with every word you’d said. The warmth he carried with him, the energy that filled every room he walked into, was gone. And it made you feel terrible.

Your hands tightened around his phone as you leaned back on the couch, your thoughts spiraling. Changbin wasn’t just a boyfriend- he was your safe space, your biggest cheerleader, the person who always knew how to make you laugh when you wanted to cry.

And tonight, you had been the one to make him feel small.

You let out a shaky breath, blinking back the tears threatening to spill over. There was no way you could let things stay like this.

So, you got to work.

Changbin’s car coasted slowly down the street, the low hum of the engine the only sound in the otherwise quiet night. His mind buzzed, replaying every moment of the evening- your harsh words, the hurt in his chest, and the sudden shift in the air between you two. He could still feel the weight of your gaze, and your frustration.

He had tried so hard.

Maybe it is my fault...

He wanted to make the night perfect, make it something to remember. A sweet cute, relaxed proposal. Soft and warm and everything that represented the love he had for you.

But now he was left uncertain, second-guessing everything. The familiar streets blurred as his thoughts swirled, mixing with the disappointment and confusion still lodged in his heart. His grip tightened around the steering wheel.

As he pulled into his driveway, he killed the engine but didn’t immediately move. He sat there for a while, the headlights casting long shadows across the pavement. It was cold, but he didn’t feel it. Instead, his chest was heavy, a knot of frustration and sorrow gnawing at him.

I need to apologize. Maybe then-

Reaching for his phone, he noticed a slight tremor in his hands.

Is that the best thing to do though...what if Y/N-ie is still mad...

He spent the next couple minutes thinking about texting you- even though he hadn’t done anything inherintantly wrong.

But the thought of sending an apology and admitting to a fault he didn’t deserve seemed like the easiest way to get things back to normal.

He swiped the phone screen on, but his stomach dropped when he saw his empty hand. He reached to pat his pockets.

He didn’t have his phone with him.

He trailed his eyes at the empty seat next to him, hoping maybe it was there, as the realization hit him harder than it should’ve.

His phone was still on the couch at your place. He must’ve left it there in the rush to get away.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath, the frustration and anxiety rising again.

He shifted the car back into gear, pulling out of his driveway and heading back to your apartment. As he drove, he let out a deep sigh, trying to shake off the weight pressing on him.

He didn’t know what to expect when he saw you again. He didn’t even know what he wanted from the rest of this night.

Back at your place, you were busy, but not in the way you had planned. You paced the living room, biting your lip as you nervously looked over the decorations you had hastily thrown together. You had wanted everything to be perfect for him, the way he’d promised it would be tonight, but now… you were the one fixing things.

You were the one putting the final touches on a proposal- his proposal.

Your heart flipped over and over in your chest, as you adjusted things anxiously.

You had to scrounge through a ton of different leftover decorations from previous events and holidays; and it looked like the spirit of every celebratory occasion had thrown up over your living room.

You had tried so hard to get it right, to show him how sorry you were that your nerves and selfishness had ruined everything.

When you heard the distant rumble of his car approaching, your heart skipped a beat. You quickly fixed your hair and wiped your hands on your pants, as if trying to make up for everything all at once.

You hadn’t planned this, hadn’t thought through how you were going to apologize. You just knew you couldn’t let him walk away- couldn’t let him leave the night without fixing at least a small part of it.

The doorbell rang, and you froze, your pulse quickening in your throat.

You opened it, and there he was. Changbin. Standing there with an unreadable expression, his eyes flicking over your face before he looked down at the phone in his hand.

You didn't know if you imagined his red rimmed eyes.

“I-” he started, but the words faltered. He opened his mouth again, as if trying to say something, but nothing came out. "I left my phone."

You handed it to him, and he stood there awkwardly turning it in his hands.

"Bin, come in," you whispered, stepping aside to let him in.

He hesitated for a long moment, his feet still on the other side of the threshold, as if he were debating whether to leave or stay. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the uncertainty in his movements.

But then, with a deep sigh, he stepped inside.

You led him to the living room. His eyes stayed on the floor. He didn’t sit down, didn’t speak, just stood there.

"Y/N, I'm sor-"

"You don’t need to apologize," you said, voice barely audible as you walked toward him. You didn’t know how else to start. "I’m the one who messed up tonight. It wasn't you. It was all me."

Changbin shook his head, though it seemed like he was trying to process what he was feeling. He opened his mouth again, his voice hoarse. "No, it wasn't you. I…I didn’t mean for-"

"Changbin, don't fool yourself." You said with a sarcastic chuckle. "You know it was all my fault-"

"Y/N I was the one who was-"

"-I ruined your proposal. Of course it's my fault." You finished.

Your words stopped him. He closed his eyes for a moment, the weight of everything hanging in the air between you.

"So you knew..." he murmured, his voice cracking just slightly.

"Hyunjin texted. I saw it on your screen."

Changbin sighed and then looked around, seeing the decorations.

"What..."

"Since I ruined your proposal I thought I could fix it. As an apology."

The air between you thickened suddenly.

"I-I know it's not the best or the prettiest, but I thought—"

His voice faltered as he looked up at you, eyes filled with something unreadable. Shock, confusion… and then something softer, something heavier.

"What…what did you do?"

You froze. Your heart pounded.

He was staring at everything—the decorations, the candles, the careful details meant for him to present to you.

"I thought… I'd throw something together," you repeated, your voice small. "To fix your proposal."

"Fix it?"

And in that moment, you realized just how wrong that had sounded.

"N-No! I meant fix the night. Not your proposal—nothing was wrong, I just—I ruined the moment, and—"

You were scrambling, desperate to explain.

"Binnie, I—"

"I understand, Y/N."

His quiet chuckle sent a chill through you. It wasn't warm, wasn't teasing. It was sad.

"You made another opportunity," he said, his voice steady but distant. "You set up a proposal."

"Yes! An opportunity, not-" But then you saw it. The rapid blinking, the slight shift in his expression. The way he swallowed hard, as if forcing down words he wouldn't let himself say.

And suddenly, it clicked.

He wasn't upset about your wording. He wasn't even upset that you'd tried to make things right. He was upset because you'd taken this from him. Because he had wanted to be the one to do this for you.

When you had called him clingy earlier, you had let your stressors guide you to insult what you loved most about him.

How he wanted to do everything for you.

His love language towards you always tended to be acts of service.

And while a proposal wasn't necessarily though, it made sense that he wanted to do this for you. One of the biggest acts of your two lives.

He wanted to gift it to you, and you took it away.

For a long, suffocating moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, without another word, he stepped back. His hands curled into fists, then relaxed. He exhaled, gaze flickering between you and the scene you'd set. And then he turned.

You barely processed it as he walked past you, his presence fading with each step toward the door.

"Binnie, wait-"

But he didn't stop. The door opened, and before you could find the right words, the ones that wouldn't make everything worse—

It clicked shut.

——————————————————————————

Hyunjin

The moment Hyunjin you shut the door, you felt a wave of regret crash over you. You stewed in your regret for a while before you succumbed to it.

You couldn't stand it.

You rushed out the door, hoping to catch up; even if it had already a bit since his departure. But you knew him, and he probably hadn't made it far, taking his long legs for granted and dragging out his journey.

You wanted to stop him, to explain, to make him see what you couldn't say- but your pride had already built a wall too high. The words you had snapped at him stung, but there was a fear settling deep within you, too. Fear of rejection, fear of the misunderstanding spiraling out of control.

Fear of losing him from a quick yet grave mistake.

The street was quiet, and your footsteps echoed in the empty space. You turned the corner, but in your rush, you hadn't paid attention to where you were going.

It seemed you had taken one wrong turn after another, and suddenly the comforting glow of the familiar streetlights was replaced with unfamiliar darkness.

Panic rose in your chest. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, and you fumbled to pull it out, only for it to die before you could see.

You cursed under your breath. Of course, it died. Why wouldn't it? Your mind was foggy, and you could barely focus on anything, let alone figure out where you were. The tightness in your chest felt suffocating, but you pushed through it.

You wandered a little until you found a cute little convenience store, stepping inside, letting the warmth encapsulate you. You decided to grab a snack while you charged your phone, the clerk so graciously allowing you to charge it behind the desk.

You figured while you ate you could figure out what to say to Hyunjin, to mend whatever crack you had caused.

Meanwhile, Hyunjin still felt the sting of your words settled deep in his chest. His jaw clenched as he shoved his hands into his pockets, walking briskly down the street.

It wasn’t fair. He had done nothing wrong, yet you had pushed him away like he was too much. Like his affection- his need to be close to you- was suffocating.

Me? Too much- HAH. As if.

You were just being bratty because you were in a bad mood...right?

I'm not actually too much am I?

And maybe it was dramatic, maybe it was childish, but he wanted you to chase after him. To call out his name, to grab his sleeve, to do something to prove you cared as much as he did.

But the street behind him remained quiet.

His throat tightened. His steps slowed.

You weren’t coming.

Hyunjin scoffed, shaking his head. Fine. If you weren’t going to run after him, then you could suffer.

He would make you grovel, make you look at him with those wide, guilty eyes and apologize.

Beg a little. Then - only then - he’d pull you into his arms, stroke your hair, kiss your forehead, and tell you it was okay.

Because at the end of the day, that’s all he wanted.

To make things okay again.

With a sigh, he turned back around, heading toward your apartment, already playing out how he’d drag this out just enough to make you squirm before giving in.

But when he got to your door, his smirk faltered.

The lights were off, but the door was cracked.

His brows knitted together as he stepped into a completely empty home.

You were supposed to be here. You were supposed to be sitting inside, stewing in guilt, waiting for him to come back so you could apologize properly.

His fingers twitched as he opened your bedroom door. He went to the bathroom and knocked.

No answer.

He knocked, a little harder this time.

Still nothing.

A flicker of unease crept up his spine. He pulled out his phone and called. It rang twice before going straight to voicemail.

Hyunjin swallowed. His throat was dry.

His mind raced through every possibility. Maybe you just went out for air. Maybe you ran to the convenience store. Maybe-

But his gut told him otherwise.

His gut told him something was wrong.

His fingers curled around his phone, knuckles white as he sucked in a sharp breath. His frustration, his plan to make you beg, his need to be dramatic- all of it evaporated, replaced by one single, overwhelming thought.

He needed to find you.

Now.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha @iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric @panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee @shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin @whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun @ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael @skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads @jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld @kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9 @minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg @leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon @night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz @rockstarkkami @emilyywhyy

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@darling-imobsessed @changbinismymuscledaddy @artist2181 @minniesverse @monbrigh @20staaa @aeri-skzver @noannah @skysole @chanssmiles @depressedarlling @

#skz imagines #skz stay #skz x reader #stray kids reactions #stray kids #skz fluff #skz reactions #skz #christopher bang #skz angst #lee minho #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #skz hyung line #pnutbutternjelyy

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joonberriess · 11 months ago

Text

⋆ TAGS — really soft and domestic, TW: this deals with postpartum depression, baby daddy!jk, soft lil kisses, insecure!oc, angsty as hell, this is more of a comfort fic, mentioned baby, oc rlly struggles but jk is super supportive, mentioned past pregnancy, this made me cry, soft hours, jk pampers his lovely gf, CANON AUUUU JK’S JUST JK HERE LMAO

⋆ WORD COUNT — 2.4 k

“vámonos a comer un heladito, tu princesita, cómprame cositas. en mis tacones casi todo el día, dame un foot-rub and ice out mi tobillo,”

Your eyes fluttered under the feeling of lips sliding across your forehead, eyelid, and nose. You hear Jungkook laughing quietly as he envelops you in his strong arms and tugs you close. His murmurs and pestering have you pulling a face in your sleep, nose scrunched cutely given the way he coos teasingly.

“What time is it?” You mumble softly and blankly stare back at him, eyes heavy from sleep.

“Noon.” This has you going stiff, “Relax baby, he’s okay your mom came early to pick him up.” He comfortingly strokes over your side and backside.

You sink back into the sheets and nod, “Why didn’t you wake me?” You mumble under your breath as your eyes flutter shut.

Jungkook pressed more gentle kisses to your forehead with a low rumble, “You need a break, figured maybe we could go out–do some shopping, go to that sushi place you’ve been dying to try.. That sounds good, yeah?” He murmurs.

You hum, “It does, feels like I haven’t been out in forever.”

He waits with a bated breath and smiles softly when you open your eyes and stare back with more clarity, all traces of sleep etched away. “You’re so pretty, y’know that?” He brushes a strand of hair out of your face.

A subtle heat rises in your cheeks as you smile back, “Even with baby barf and spit all over my shirt?”

“The prettiest.” He leans over to kiss your nose, looking into your eyes with a twinkle in his own. He looks at you like you’ve just hung the stars for him.

Shyly, you press a soft smooch to his lips before flopping flat on your back with a sigh, “The fridge’s nearly empty isn’t it?” You mumble, “I’m sorry, I meant to go the other day but I ended up—”

“You’re fine, it’s okay. You know I’m here too right?” Jungkook reaches over to hold your hand, “Don’t worry about it baby, you’ve got your hands full right now and I get it. ‘s okay to ask for help too.”

You look at him with a soft smile, “I love you.” You lay a quick kiss on his cheek and roll out of bed to head to the bathroom.

Jungkook huffs, “Only one? On the cheek too..” He grumbles like a petulant child, sitting up in the messy sheets tangled around his hips and his bare chest out for your viewing.

“Get ready, it was YOUR idea to go out too so don’t make us late.” You fondly roll your eyes, you can hear him whine about something else behind you as the door shuts.

“…..” You pass in front of the body length mirror, pausing for a moment to observe your appearance. Your hands come up to rest over your tummy as you stare long and hard. “…”

You better get ready.

“y/n.”

“y/n?”

You snap out of your daydream and look over at Jungkook curiously, “Yeah?”

“I asked if you wanted to check out the fruits, it’s strawberry season and I’m sure they brought out all the fresh stuff.” Jungkook doesn’t seem at all bothered by the fact that you’ve spaced out for a second time since entering the store.

You shake your head, “I don’t like strawberries.” You say disinterestedly.

‘But you ate them your whole pregnancy, what’s wrong now?’ Your brain is screaming at you to just say yes and deal with it but you can’t.

He gives a soft hum, “That’s fine. Is there anything you wanted to get?” He steers the shopping cart away from the fruits, leading you down an aisle filled with spices and other cooking ingredients.

“Um, what was that thing you bought last time? When you made that white stew.” You scrunch your nose, “Ugh I forgot.”

“Ohh, you mean the cream stew mix? Uhh I think it’s down this aisle lemme check.” Jungkook leaves the cart with you as he trails down the aisle looking up, down, and around.

You pick out a few things to try out later on and happily make your way over. “Did you find it?” You curiously peek over his shoulder, damn near yelling because he shoots back up with a ‘ah-ha!’.

“What?” He innocently says after noticing the scowl on your face.

“You scared me.” You huff and punch his arm gently, “C’mon, I wanna get some chips and the aisle is back that way.” Jungkook happily trails after you, telling you all about his upcoming Calvin Klein campaign.

“Look,” Jungkook snorts as he holds up a pair of lace g-strings, “you mean to tell me this tiny triangle covers your entire pus–”

“Jungkook!” You hiss quietly after noticing a few older women turn their heads, “Put those down.” You snatch the panties away and toss them back into their respective drawers.

He cheekily grins and picks up another pair of underwear, “What? I didn’t do anything, I was just asking.” He chuckles.

“You are so dumb.” You giggle quietly, “Stop!! You’re going to get us kicked out, I thought I had one baby not two.”

“But babyy this is so boring, jus’ a bunch of girlie stuff and these women keep lookin’ at me like I’m a creep but I swear I’m just trying to help you.” He pouts.

You shake your head fondly, “Here, go find something to buy or do while I finish up here.” His eyes light up and he presses a messy smooch to your cheek before practically sprinting out.

Your eyes slowly turn over to the mannequin sitting tall on the platform donned in a new lingerie set. You stare at it for what seems like eternity while the world goes on about their day around you. Eventually a staff comes to break you out of your bubble.

“Is everything okay miss? Were you interested in our new spring collection?”

“Oh, um yeah, well I’m trying to surprise my boyfriend you know? I don’t know if he’ll like it ‘n stuff.” You murmur softly, eyes lowered and averted from the mannequin.

“Mmm.. what do you like?”

“Silk, maybe a babydoll or teddy..? I think.” You can’t stomach the idea of wearing a two piece, because then that means your….

“We have just the set then, we got a ton of new items for this spring. ” She grins while leading you away.

When you come out of the store, Jungkook’s barely walking back. He has this goofy little smile on his face as he stops in front of you, barely containing his excitement. “Guess what.”

“What did you do?” You giggle softly and eye the bag in his hand.

“I got this for you.” He brings out a large shirt and holds it up proudly, “It says: Best Milf Ever.”

You stare at the words with disbelief and then you’re breaking out into uncontrollable laughter. People around you look in curiosity but you can’t stop, you feel like you’re about to pee from how hard you’re laughing.

And Jungkook?

He stands there with a fond smile, gazing at you lovingly as he puts the shirt back, “You like it?”

You haven’t laughed nor felt this much joy in a while. “I love it.”

After having dinner Jungkook takes you out for ice cream. You were a bit burnt out from being out all day so you waited in the car while he went inside to buy the ice cream.

You think back to everything that happened today, it feels nice. You make a mental note to ask Jungkook to take you to a cat cafe sometime later on in the week. “Oh my god.” You mutter in embarrassment.

Jungkook’s walking back with a monstrosity of a ice cream sundae and then your perfectly NORMAL scoop of sherbet with gummies on top. “Jungkook what is all that mess?” You whine.

“What? I wanted triple chocolate with sprinkles and fudge.” He slips into the car and hands the small bowls over, “C’mon you gotta try it.”

“Hell no! This looks like it can either send me to do number three or I’m gonna puke my guts out.” You hiss.

“Number three doesn’t exist, nice try.” Jungkook scoffs softly while pulling out of the parking lot.

“It does now.” You mumble, ignoring his loud laughter.

You can’t hide the face you make while Jungkook eats that horrendous dessert. He doesn’t even care that you’re judging him as he happily watches his little Netflix show he’s been yapping about as of lately.

“I knew it, it was her all along..” He mutters to himself as he eats a large spoonful of ice cream.

“I’m going to the kitchen, you want anything?” You can’t take it anymore as you stand abruptly and pass by.

“No.”

You put your ice cream away and drink a glass of water in the kitchen. You enjoy the peace and quiet, it’s been a cool minute since you’ve had some time to yourself. Between caring for a newborn and balancing your everyday life, shit’s been hard.

Not that Jungkook doesn’t help, but sometimes you feel like you put too much on him. He says he doesn’t care but.. you do.

With a heavy sigh you leave the cup in the sink and trail over to your bedroom. The dainty lingerie bag sits on the corner of the bed, you have yet to try it on but you don’t know..

“Fuck it.” You mutter while stripping down and slipping on the pretty babydoll top and matching thong to go with it.

The soft pink and silky smooth feeling of it has you smiling to yourself over how pretty it is on you. The set even came with a robe so you slipped that on too and tied it securely around your waist before heading back out to show your lover.

“Jungkook.” You call out, “What do you think?”

He pauses his show and looks over, his eyes visibly glaze over as he takes you in from head to toe. “Pretty, I like it—pink suits you.” He beckons you over.

Right, he thinks it’s just a robe.

You walk over with a soft hum and stand between his legs, “I got something else, it’s under.”

His eyes darken and he licks his lips, “Can I?” His hands hover over the sash. You can’t help but shiver with the way he looks at you like he wants to eat you alive. Makes you feel hot.

“Yeah..” Your voice comes out breathier than usual, a hint of excitement underlying your tone.

Jungkook unties the knot and slowly pulls your robe off. “Fuck.” He whispers when he sees the pretty babydoll underneath, he gets a peek at your thong too and he’s nearly drooling.

“Shit baby you look so fuckin’ pretty, look at you,” he gently twirls you around with a low whistle.

His hand hovers over your ass, not quite touching but there. You gently pull his hands closer with a soft, “You can touch.” You murmur.

Jungkook audibly gulps and grabs a fistful of your babydoll, he lifts it up enough to slip his hands around both cheeks. He gives both doughy cheeks a tight squeeze before he’s jiggling it in the palms of his hands.

“Can I baby?” He asks softly, “I wanna take you to bed.” To that you nod.

Before you can get another word out, he abruptly stands and hauls you up into his strong arms. You squeal in shock and hit his shoulders, “Jungkook..! Put me down!” You whine.

“No.” Jungkook smirks as he lands a sharp smack to your ass, “Let me take care of you yeah? Just sit ‘n look pretty for me.” He carries you down the hall and kicks the door open, gently tossing you onto the center of the bed.

You bounce back on the mattress with a soft ‘oof’, he doesn’t let up because he’s already crawling over you and landing a sweet yet heated kiss on your lips. You wrap your arms around him and hug him close, enjoying the soft touches.

Jungkook takes his sweet time kissing you, the kiss is slow and his touches are light and feathery. He holds you like you’re made of glass or something, gently cupping your hips and massaging them. It tugs on your poor heart strings and you find yourself tearing up for no reason..?

He pulls away with a soft pant, pressing his forehead to your own as he stares into your eyes with devotion. “Why are you crying baby? Hm? Why’s my pretty girl sad?” He wipes your tears with his thumbs.

“B-Because, you’re so good to me.” You softly hiccup, “Feel safe with you.”

He brushes your hair out of your face and smooches your nose, “Yeah, what else baby. Talk to me.” He murmurs patiently while cupping the side of your cheek.

“You don’t make me feel alone.” You whisper, and his heart breaks seeing you this vulnerable, “I-I know I haven’t been there for you b-but with the baby and–”

“And who said you needed to take care of me? You already have enough with the baby, you spent nine months carrying our baby and you worked hard to bring him into the world my love. Makes me proud of you baby, strongest girl I know.” He softly smiles.

Your heart races and you feel a knot in your throat as you continue listening to him, “You’re going to be okay—we’re okay. You know I’m always going to be right here for whatever you need, you’re doing so good my love.”

You let out a soft sob and bury your face in his shoulder. These past two months of silently struggling with coming to terms of your newfound motherhood and changes with your relationship finally come to a stop. You feel good knowing that Jungkook is so understanding and supportive.

For a while you thought you were going insane, that it was your fault and you were a horrible mother for feeling so…bad.

Even when you were bedridden for days, void of any life and emotion, Jungkook is still here.

“I love you.” Jungkook whispers.

“I love you too.” You sniffle.

Jungkook helps you slip into one of his shirts as the two of you cuddle for the rest of the night watching silly rom-coms. You know the future will be okay.

Everything is okay.

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan @lilyflowerguk @sayokodiary @babycandy111 @looneybleus @ash07128 @gyukookswhore @rrosiitas

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kaszuma · 8 months ago

Text

Oxygen is all we need | Hoshina Soshiro

Part 5 of “Certainly Yours”

pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x fem!reader

summary: you rarely see soshiro be breathless on the battlefield. And the one time you did, it was coerced by a sentient Numbers Weapon you had created.

warnings: NSFW explicit scenes with plot, mentions of sexual m/f activity, Fingering/handjob with Combat Suit on, Semi-public fingering/handjob, Hoshina being a little feral, slight description of gore for dissecting combat suits, mentions of injury for Hoshina, SPOILERS for Kn8 manga

wc: 7,719

–

note: Please tell me if I missed any warnings. There's kind of a lot. NSFW part was originally gonna be some soft lovemaking type of writing. But I figured I could save that for a future part. Went too feral on his Number 10 Combat Suit from reading the manga lmao. This is not proofread

–

Soshiro Hoshina, was an enigma.

He had always been that way to his peers. He was no different to you, now that you had been privy to see a small part of his life that people have yet to pry open.

Despite the laid-back persona he'd exemplify, you were always aware of the disciplined and hard working nature he hid beneath the surface of his jokes and smiles. And his everyday life only showed a fraction of this side of him that no one seems to pay attention to.

All except you of course, who had been keeping an eye on him well before the two of you started dating.

It started in the little actions he'd take. From the early hours of the morning, he'd wake up on the dot just to grab a cup of coffee before the day had turned busy. The privacy of his office had been made neat, filled with finished paperwork that he'd arranged the day before. Leaving room for him to swing his sword in the training rooms until the cool nights of the summer where even cicadas started sleeping early.

His comrades? Fast asleep in their bunks. Unaware that the Vice Captain was sweating. Recreating the battles he's faced in the wake of an emergency. Where Tachikawa's base had been left in his hands.

Every failure, every mistake, every mishaps he had allowed. He had made sure to embed the consequences deep into his body. Making a vow to never let anyone catch him off guard. Kaiju or humans included. And although it was a rare sight. Even you, his lover. Had not seen him work himself breathless.

Not once had you caught him wheezing to catch up. His hard work, hidden under people's watch.

His efforts were definitely there. But no one had been able to see his training first hand. Leaving people to chalk it up to simply talent, or the bloodline of his ancestry belonging to a family of generational Kaiju Slayers.

But his hard work, though hidden. Had not all been in vain. As he of all people knew deep down that he worked–no, strived to become better. To prove his existence in the field. And you, had strived to make it happen in the wake of Kaiju Number 10 readying itself to be weaponized upon your command.

It had been a few days since you and a team of technicians had decidedly worked on converting Kaiju no. 10 as a plausible weapon. A suit befitting for your lover to wear.

The first time you had seen its deformed body, trapped in a tank for containment. It had chilled you to the bone. When it briefly made eye contact with you. As if it knew something deep within your body that you hadn't known yet. Its one eye continuously staring at your form, in a strange admiration. Similar to how it looked to Soshiro.

Admiration was one thing. But said admiration coming from a potentially dangerous Kaiju was another. Such is the way of their line of work.

Surprisingly, anytime the tank had been registered open. You had not seen Kaiju no. 10 struggle at all in its restraints. Not at all bothered at the mere fact that its life was threatened to be converted into a weapon. The plates of armor, although mangled. Had not shown any signs of tension. And each incision you'd make was relaxed. The formation of the modified Combat Suit was simple. Unrestrained, even. To the point that it would obediently let you slice it as you wished. To shape and mold it to the combat suit you wished to make.

Hell, it even went as far as to talk you through it when you were removing the last bits of his shattered headpieces. Leaving the core and its surrounding muscle fibers intact. Beating, breathing like a heart. “So this is the one huh?” You heard it's gurgled laughter. As if you had not been cutting it open for hours by now.

Soshiro and a few soldiers were stationed right behind you. A team of other technicians and scientists assisting your movements to place the armor pieces together. The tension in the room was heavy, weapons readied in the case of an emergency. But like always, the Kaiju had all but stayed completely still. Obedient with a few laughs here and there for the hell of it.

“Even his woman is a weapons creator. I really did make the right decision to join forces with you, Swordsman.” Kaiju no. 10 had spoken. And you look over to Soshiro wearily at the way it had so easily figured out your relationship with him. It’s as if it read his mind, which both startled and irked your lover to no end.

“Shut yer’ trap. By the time she's done with you, you're as good as obedient to me.” You had seen the way Soshiro had glared at the dismembered monster. And the way his voice had lowered an octave. It made you momentarily forget that you were in a room full of people.

You purse your lips. Trying not to focus on his smooth voice. Not when you were potentially busy dealing with a Kaiju that had not been fully weaponized yet.

You had all but shook your head. No, get your mind out of the gutter.

“Stop provoking each other.” You spoke, pulling away at the last bit of veins connected to the hardened plating. "I'm trying to work here.”

You let out a sigh. Eventually taking the last muscle fiber and attaching the last bit of the Kaiju’s parts onto the mold of the suit. Its shape fully formed right besides its old carcass that had been readily discarded afterwards. The Combat Suit took ages to cut apart. With its armor far too hard to penetrate with just a scalpel alone. But somehow you and your team had managed. And all somehow went according to the blueprints you made.

The suit was the right size. The plating was sturdy, amplified with shields and wires that would support its structure. And the fact that it had an added limb for a tail. Its extension beautifully connected to the lower end of its spine that completed the look.

Number 10 had not made a single sound as it had likely died from being weaponized. Like the rest of the Kaiju before it. And you mentally pat yourself on the back for a job well done for making quick work of him.

Or at least..that's what was supposed to happen. “Wear me, swordsman. I want to fight something already.”

Huh?

“It's still speaking?” You had felt yourself be pulled back. Soshiro had wasted no time getting in front of you. Hand already on the hilt of his swords, as the weaponized Kaiju stared straight back at him. This time, instead of a mangle corpse, it had been a combat suit. Capable of speech and thought processing.

“Why is it still sentient?” He had glanced back at you. And you can see the faint traces of his still fresh bandages wrap around his lower neck, within the zipper of his jacket.

“I don't know.” You had spoken truthfully. “We've never had to weaponize a sentient Kaiju before.” You had replied. Weary of the tension in the room. Soshiro's back had all but blocked your view from the Combat Suit. And it laughed when the rest of the technicians also backed up. Cowering behind some of the soldiers who already had their guns raised. Pointed straight at the tank that held the completed weapon.

“Is it safe to use?” Soshiro asked.

“It should be. The rest of his core can't sync up to his body anymore, so I doubt he can kill anyone right now.” You explained. Not once had Soshiro looked away from the suit.

You had watched as Soshiro wearily stood straighter. This time, raising his hand so that the rest of the soldiers would lower their aimed weapons. And although they had been hesitant, they had done exactly that. With the weaponized Kaiju not reacting at all in fact.

“Well this isn't good..” He whispered. Skeptical about letting you get any closer to it as the Kaiju inside of it seemed ecstatic. Screaming praises towards you, excited that it might be worn soon. And Soshiro twitched, his smile irritated more than usual.

“It..probably needs a bit more time to adjust in the combat suit. For now, let me work on it alone.” You had suggested, seeing the skepticism of the other technicians who did not want anything to do with the suit who is very much still alive.

You had no doubt that no one wanted to work on the weapon, especially since it was still very sentient. Now in possession of solidified upgrades to strengthen its use in combat. If it was still able to formulate thoughts despite having been completely mangled as a weapon. Kaiju no. 10, now had the means to breach the combat suit's limitations. In the case it did lose control. And when you were working with an unidentified threat, there's a high chance it wouldn't hesitate to attack.

Meaning, if the higher ups wanted this weapon usable for Soshiro. Then you were the only one who'd be willing to work through the weapon’s new kinks and pieces. To stop it from getting wild and uncontrollable.

It had obediently let you work on it the first time. You were positive that it wouldn't be a problem now. Right?

“...Are you sure about this? I don't mind if it doesn't become usable ya’ know? It ain't worth risking your life like this.” He had briefly brushed a thumb to your cheek. Forgetting that there had been an audience of officers just behind them.

Though it seems Soshiro did not care much about that. More worried for your safety, in all of this.

“Calm down swordsman. I'm not interested in killing the woman who's bound to make me stronger. It'll keep things..Interesting.”

Soshiro had looked over to the tube that held the weaponized Kaiju in place. It didn't even register in your eyes when he had unsheathed one of his blades. Pointing the tip directly at the cross section on the combat suit's chest. Where the eye had been placed. “Keep talking and I'll slice you to ribbons ya’ little-”

But before he could threaten number 10, you had crossed your way over to lower his weapon. A gentle hand on his bandaged chest that had been healing for a few days now. “I will be just fine.”

“You heard him, he won't hurt me.”

“And ya’ sure about that?” He had a strained smile on his lips. Bordering frustration as he had not once moved his gaze from the suit.

“If he planned to, he would've attacked me way before I could dice him up to make armor out of him.” You had given him a small smile. Despite your own skepticism.

“I'll be fine..” You reassured him again. And silence took momentary peace in the room full of weary people. The others had not been convinced in the slightest.

Soshiro had a minute to take in your words. His hardened gaze softened momentarily as it met your pretty face. And as usual, you did not falter when you spoke confident sentences. Strong-willed and unafraid as you were. As self-confident as ever it seems, befitting for someone who worked closely on the defense force despite not being a soldier. You were troublesome indeed. But he had no doubt you'd be able to make something out of the living Kaiju he and Captain Ashiro worked so hard to kill.

He couldn't help but let out a sigh. Placing his blade back on his hip. “Fine. But, I'm staying here with you, so…”

“Get him ready, and I'll be the one to break him in for ya.”

–

It had been a few days since that incident occurred. After a few talks with command, you had been granted access to a private facility where the necessary tools and materials were given to you to fix Number 10's control over the weaponized suit. Having been quickly transferred to a private facility that no one but a select few had access to.

Surprisingly, Soshiro had done well on his promise. Leaving the Tachikawa base to stay with you on a daily basis in the case that Kaiju no. 10 would attack. Likely having already explained the situation to Captain Ashiro long before you had worked on adjusting the suit’s flaws.

Soshiro was usually a patient man. But being a Vice Captain of an entire division, you did not want to waste a second of his packed schedule when he was already so busy with his other responsibilities. So you wasted no time as you continued to limit the weapon's control over its armored body. Thoroughly eradicating its ability to disobey order from its wearer, but to no avail.

So far, all you had been able to do was to limit the monster's movements, down to a singular point which was its tail. The limb seems to have a mind of its own, and it did not bother to listen to any of you nor Soshiro's commands. Demanding that they let him battle a Kaiju to test out his new uses. And the moment Soshiro had declined. You weren't spared from Kaiju no. 10's complaining either. Constantly yapping in excitement for a battle that had yet to start.

Although it wasn't nearly as controlled as you liked, command had apparently dubbed the weaponized combat suit as usable enough for Soshiro to handle. And despite the dangers of its early prototypes, they were both given the permission to do a test run within the indoor training grounds provided near the labs.

Which is what leads you today, alone once more in an enforced room no less. Watching Soshiro step into the small pod, where wires had connected the Weaponized combat suit onto his body.

And from the control panel right next to it. You are able to grasp a few readings of his vitals. All seemed stable thus far.

“Are you sure about this? Wouldn't it be safer to have soldiers on standby for the simulation?” You had stood up from your chair. Brows scrunched the moment the combat suit had zipped closed around his body.

Your eyes had glanced over at the way his suit had all but molded to his form. The armor plating had fit distinctly to his chest. And his arms and legs had no trouble adjusting to the heavy heat of Kaiju no. 10's muscle fibers. The ones you had distinctly measured to fit his body. A combat suit made only for him in mind.

And he looked damn good in it. You thought.

“I’ll be fine sweetheart. I'm confident ya’ made it safe enough for me to wear it.” He had spoken through the standard respiratory mask he wore. And you could hear each audible breath he took in. Calm and steady unlike the buzz in your head that kept glancing down your lover's abdomen.

You had half a mind to look away. To not focus on the ridges of his plated hands. The hardened steel that covered his abs. And that damn tail on his back, that traced the ridges of his neck and spine.

Fuck.

Here he was, trusting his safety to the very core of your days worth of handiwork. And all you were thinking about is how you wished his hands were unbuttoning your blouse. And worse.

“Sure.” You stutter.

“Let's just hope it syncs up with your brain waves..” You had distracted yourself. Forcing your eyes to face the screen instead of his body. And you could see the way Soshiro had visibly slackened when he had noticed the way you had turned away from him. And this abruptness had made him frown a little. Thinking that the suit might've scared you to bits. A far cry to the actual thoughts swimming in your mind.

“Your woman here is quite talented in strengthening me. I see why you can't ignore her.” Kaiju no. 10 spoke to him. A chuckle sounding out from the small intercom he wore. Luckily you were too distracted to hear its comment.

“You show hesitation. If I had been the one in control, I'd show no restraint to your woman and take her as mine..” Soshiro had heard it's voice in his head. And flashes of their synced brain had shown him a brief future where you had pinned her under his arms. His clawed hands gripping at the plush of your thighs, and he'd carefully start to taste the droplets of slick that would caress the skin nearest your-

He shook his head.

“Quit yappin’ or I'll have you decommissioned before you can ever become useful to me.” He had stepped forward. The wires disconnecting from the skeletal structure of his armored back. And Soshiro could feel the weight of the weaponized combat suit completely engulf his body. That tail of his, which previously belonged to Kaiju no. 10. Was swinging around haphazardly, out of his control. Like it had been excited from being worn. After days of laying dormant in the table to be operated on.

But if Soshiro had to guess. It was likely this excitement had stemmed from the thoughts the Kaiju had dug up from the very back of his brain. Thoughts that he had kept for himself in the darkness of his room where no one would disturb him.

And a monster having access to that?

Shit.

He might not hear the end of it.

If only he hadn't put that image inside his head. Who would've thought that syncing his brain waves with a sentient combat suit would have him thinking sinful thoughts. In broad daylight too, where the suit could monitor every muscle and bone in his body. Each reaction recorded and documented for a report.

He had heard stories that this was a common side effect that the Weapon Numbers had. The non-sentient ones had at least some form of memory of their previous users. The difference was, number 10 was more talkative. Straightforward even. It had just been his luck that the monster somehow managed to resurface a few of his thoughts that he buried deep within the very corners of his brain.

And here he was, in a situation that made his body unbelievably breathless and hot. Alone and in front of you.

“Vital signs are okay..but your thermal readings are higher than normal.” You had spoken. Shaking away the tingling sensation you felt from seeing him in the Combat suit. More worried about his well being this time.

But Soshiro couldn't seem to look you in the eye. A strained smile seems to have overcome his features as he felt the heat travel from the pit of his stomach, all the way down to the valley between his legs.

Shit.

Now was not the right time for him to harden.

“Is everything alright?” You had walked up much closer to him. And you can see the telltale signs of breathlessness in him. Odd considering he had never been caught breathless like this. And the moment you had come closer in proximity, he took a singular step back.

Which didn't go unnoticed by you.

In actuality, he was lucky that your eyes had been focused on his face. His pants were loose, no different from the standard uniform all officers would wear. But if you looked hard enough, you might be able to see the signs of his printed heat. Carved on the fabric nearest his thighs.

“Just peachy.” He answers with a chuckle.

“He's just..a little noisy that's all.” He had cleared his throat. Feeling the familiar sensation of his erection start to throb. And another wave of uncontrollable thoughts had washed over his mind. Likely a result from No. 10 sharing its desires to him. No, rather than sharing its thoughts, it most likely resurfaced his feelings that he kept hidden from his lover.

It hadn't been that long since you had officially gotten together. Save one date or two during the rare occasion that they'd both be off-duty. But never had they been intimate in that way before. Hell, he didn't even know if you were a virgin or not.

He flinches. Suddenly feeling the shockwave of heat skim across his armored body, making him falter from his movements to back away. And he falls forward. A hand on your shoulder to steady himself before he could completely stumble.

“Soshiro!” He had heard you speak. The palm of your hand against his chest. But his mind was dazed. His name on your lips had made his pants feel awfully tight. And his ears had warmed slightly, removing the respiratory mask on his face so that he could breathe more evenly. “M’ fine..”

His tone had not been convincing. And you could feel the quick breaths he'd take to make up for the lack of oxygen that took up all the heat in his body.

Damn you, Kaiju no. 10. Soshiro could practically hear it chuckling.

“Stop lying..” You had spoken exasperatedly. “Is he talking to you right now?” You heard him give you a hum.

And such a curt reply makes you wonder. Finding it odd that Soshiro, who was normally talkative and easy-going, had all but quieted down. Your question remained unanswered as he was too busy hearing the words of the Weaponized suit in his head. Urging him forward which had left you clueless to the thoughts in his head. “Your hesitation is cowardly. Move. Or I will, swordsman.”

And he purses his lips at the thought. His head leaning against your shoulder. Hand abruptly moving to palm the small of your back to pull you much closer than before. And he gritted his teeth at Number 10's coercion. “Don't touch her.”

His growl had made you flinch. And you can see the way his fangs had showed up from the way his teeth had bared. The low baritone of his voice had been unlike him. Heavy and out of breath. But somehow the sound shot straight down your core. And it makes you gulp.

The reply had clearly not been for you. And such actions would provoke him enough to pull you closer. That and you had found it strange for him to be acting in such a way. You had assumed as much that Number 10 would be talking to him. Though exactly what they had conversed about you hadn't had a clue. Only going off in the little hints of emotions you’d find surrounding his body and face. But that had been impossible too.

Not when he had his nose buried on the crook of your neck where the scent of your subtle cologne had wafted thoroughly. Leaving a mark that made him want to do as Number 10 had desired. Or better yet, provoked him to do it.

“Soshiro..” you called softly. Running your hands through his dark hair starts to worry for both his physical and mental state. It was common knowledge that Weaponized Kaiju would put a strain on its user. And you did not want to risk his life for an early prototype that had yet to be perfected by you.

To your better judgment, you had led him to lean against the control panel. Gently letting his back hit the surface of the table. And you had slowly unwrapped yourself from him. Reaching to the keyboard which will let you issue a command to get him ejected from the Weaponized Kaiju.

But before you could reach to press a few buttons, he pulled you back. Strong hands wrapping at the softness of your waist. Gingerly pulling you back, closer to him in proximity to prevent your escape. Your spine was pressed up against his chest where you could feel the sturdiness of his suit against your shoulder. And your frown at your lover's unusual stubbornness. Not one to often find him resisting any actions you'd issue when it came to testing weaponized materials. “Soshiro, just hold still I need to-”

You flinched. Stopping your sentence midway.

The sudden feeling of his teeth sinking into the nape of your neck had overridden whatever words that wanted to leave your mouth. All but too focused on the feeling of his teeth taking a bite from the skin of your very neck.

Surprisingly, his bite had not been enough to draw blood. It was softer than you anticipated. One that oddly made you yelp in a pleased manner. And just as quickly as he marked the area, he moved to lick away at the reddened state your skin had been left in. Which you had not expected, placing a hefty hand over your lips to strangle any noises your throat attempted to make from his intimate actions.

“Soshiro, wait.” You had flinched again.

Feeling his lips trail kisses southward. Down from the nape, all the way over to the pulse point on your neck. He had hummed, giving your skin a few kitten licks. Before he immediately sank his teeth into your skin once more.

Leaving red marks that left you jolting against him. Your head leaning back to press closer against his shoulder. Likely to let his teeth sink deeper, if he wanted to. But Soshiro, even in this dazed state, remained disciplined. Rigid as he didn't let the bite intensify in fear of injuring you. His only intent was to leave ravishing red marks that proved to him that you were his. A warning to the Kaiju that threatened his place beside you.

“Mm..sorry dear. You're jus’ way too fuckin sweet.” He mumbled against your skin. His tail, which had previously been quiet, had now wrapped itself loosely against your leg. As if trying to pull you closer to Soshiro's body. The same sentiment seemed to have been shared between Kaiju No. 10 and Soshiro. And you wonder if this had been the result of their minds syncing up. The conversation they would have in their head remained a mystery to you as they worked in tandem to challenge each other further. And you had hesitantly tried to pull away despite not wanting to stop.

“We're still at work..” You had whispered out. Breathing heavily as he licked and sucked on your neck. Leaving purple marks on the wake of his careful lips. Even in this state he had been meticulous. Leaving careful bites that only ever felt ticklish and pleasant. And he pulled you closer, halting you from escaping.

He had not been rough at all in the way he had so easily painted your skin with his masterpieces. And although his grip was firm. All you needed was to push him away. To stop him from going further. But you hadn't moved a single inch away. Let alone stop him.

“I know..I just..” He breathes heavily against your jaw and ear. Taking your free hand to drag it behind you. Guiding your touch to trace the ridges of his abdomen. Reaching all the way down to the softness of his pants. And you feel the cold zipper of his clothes graze against your fingertips.

But more importantly. Something warmer had touched her fingertips. And you could feel the shape of his length under the confines of fabric. Painfully hard and tight from his size. And you feel your breath hitch the moment you had realized why exactly he had been heating up so abnormally since he wore the suit. The strangled sound of his groan had been muffled by his lips pressing thinly together. Biting back the soft sighs as he guides your warm palm to press harder against his crotch.

“Jus’ tell me to stop.” He whispered.

“Tell me you don't want this..” He breathlessly groaned. Suddenly finding relief that your hand had cupped the very place he had been craving friction from. The texture of his pants made him shiver as you had delicately traced the imprint of his hard-on. As if all but admiring the large warmth in your hand. And you realized that your body showed no signs of stopping. Giving into the inhibitions that that struggle through the restraints of your logic.

And although you couldn't face him right now, you spoke softly. Immediately in your reply. “I want this..”

Soshiro had taken a moment to glance at you. And he sees the redness of your cheeks bloom against your skin. Chest heaving just as much as he was when he had started thinking about the pleasure in his body. Number 10 had seemed to read both you and him so easily that he didn't need to hold you both in place just so something would happen. The work is already being done in place as you suddenly press yourself further into his erection.

Without warning, you start grinding your hands against him. Moving it up and down, feeling the way the fabric rolled against your palm and the traces or dampness. Ones that alluded to sticky mess he made underneath the fabric.

A hiss came from his mouth and Soshiro couldn't help but pull you closer by the hips. His enhanced hands, one that had been strengthened by the weaponized suit, would likely leave bruises on the handle of your hips. If he had been too caught up or careless in his actions.

So he faltered, moving his hand away from your body. Instead, deciding to prop itself up on the surface of the control panel they leaned on. The other hand, which had still made contact with your hips. Had caressed you hungrily upon your own touches. Holding back his urges to grab you too tightly lest he breaks your body from his strength alone. An idea likely from Kaiju no. 10 who had oddly quieted down from his actions. Whether it too can feel the effects you have on him was a mystery to him. One of which he had greedily just decided to ignore for the time being.

He'll save the lectures for later.

“Fuck-” He had sighed out. Feeling your fingers start palming him harder. Rubbing his crotch vigorously. Enough to cause him to squirm in place. His eyes had momentarily opened. Squinting around for any cameras or recording devices hidden in the training room. Luckily, there was conveniently none. Likely a result of keeping Weapons 10 a secret in the case they get infiltrated by a Kaiju.

Not that it was a problem for him. He'd wipe any footage he finds later. And everyone would be none the wiser to their endeavors.

His focus had solely fixated on the way your fingertips felt upon his crotch. His hips have grown desperate. Moving to grind against your hand to get more friction out of you. But to no avail, the fabric was in the way. And right now, his only thought was that this moment, although as pleasing to him as it did to you, had been the worst time for the both of you to start in.

He had it all planned out too.

He'd take you out on a date on his off-duty. Make you wear a pretty sundress that he could easily peel off. And focus on your pleasure for the rest of the night should he be allowed to do so.

But this had been too different from his plans. Far too risky and sudden for his liking. His pleasure had been amped, and he had felt the careful touches you'd do in order to please him. Touch and palm his dick until it was beyond the point of arousal. Make him spill an early load in the confines of a training room no less.

But he'll be damned if he doesn't please you too.

“Ngh..You too sweetheart..” He groaned. “Let me make you feel good too.” He whispered, trying to regain a sense of control when his crotch had surely been sticky and wet from all the precum that damped his own boxers.

The hand that had hesitated in gripping your hip had slid forward to your stomach. His fingers tracing down the crumpled blouse that had tucked into the standardized pencil skirt that you had worn. And time and time again, it had not failed to grab his attention in each waking moment you decided to wear the damn thing.

The way it had hugged your figure, where he'd sneak a glance at the curves of your stomach and hips. His thoughts couldn't help but darken, admiring the way you had always managed to capture his attention. Unwarranted and without warning.

He didn't hesitate to pull your skirt up. Trailing the fabric directly above your navel until it revealed the pretty underwear you wore. And his textured fingertips traced his name on the waistband of the fabric. Playing with the mere shudders you'd make upon his touches. Your hands, which had busied themselves by touching Soshiro’s crotch, had stilled for a moment. Giving him a stellar opportunity to make up for lost time. It was his turn now.

“Keep yer legs open for me sweetheart..” He had whispered out. Immediately running his hand through the valley of your clothed core. Feeling the dampness of the underwear, stain his coarse fingertips with your slick. Your inner thighs which had quivered against his light touches had glistened as a few droplets slipped past his fingers which made the skin of your thighs all the more tantalizing to watch.

He'd like to admire it more if he were being honest. He could tell number 10 had been all the same as his tail trailed up further onto your thighs. Gripping the skin to keep you in place. But right now, it wasn't the ideal setting for such a thing. Had this been a perfect world, he'd have taken you somewhere more comfortable. More private to please you. But right now, the suit isn't responding to any of his commands. And the best way to shut him and his damn urges up was to do this as quickly as possible. He'll have to make up for this at a later date. For now, all they needed was each other's touches.

“Soshiro..wait, I've never-” You threw your head back. Pausing when the hand that had moved to palm your cunt had suddenly invaded your space. His fingers had slipped past your waistband to quickly pinch at the sensitive bundle of nerves above your entrance. Your clit throbbing to meet his touches as you clenched against nothing in particular. Leaving Soshiro's own pulsating erection shuddering from your lack of touches. Far too distracted to continue your previous movements. Pinching your tender clit had made Soshiro groan in response. Feeling just how wet you had gotten for him despite only touching you just now.

“This your first time?” He whispered. Kissing you squarely on the shoulders. Trying his best to calm your nerves at the new feeling he was giving you. His hand was far too occupied at touching the quivering spot between your legs. And he starts rubbing circles with his fingers. Pressing down on the nub of your clit which made you moan and buck your hips in response.

“Shh..S’okay. Let me take care of ya.” He breathed next to your ear. “I won't enter ya..just focus on the pleasure.” He sighed out. His fingers were already making quick work of your entrance which had not wasted any more time than he should have. Weary that anyone could walk in and see them doing other things that didn't involve number 10's prototype testing.

Immediately, he didn't hesitate to run his hands through your fleshy lips. Mixing the liquids of your slick to help satisfy the itch your heat had felt. And the noises you made when you spoke his name had all but proved to encourage his touches further. Stretching your cunt wide open to make way for his fingers.

And you had all but yelped the moment his movements had made quick and distinct touches to your cunt. Your entrance trying its damndest to swallow his fingers whole that had so easily helped build up the euphoric high your core desperately chased after. But to no avail, his fingers teased. Slipping past the entrance just to help you fit his fingers in much easier. Testing out whether you can take the stretch of his fingers or not.

Despite the strain on his pants, his hand had expertly rubbed and felt your fleshy entrance. Squeezing the slick out of you as it had completely dampened his fingers and the underwear that had threatened to slip past your thighs.

The shaky moans you'd let out was followed up by a finger slowly prodding at your cunt's entrance and without warning his coarse gloved hands had invaded you without struggle. His finger easily made it past the slippery exterior he worked so hard to prep. All for this moment. “Nghh..Soshi..ro..feels good.”

“I know sweetheart. You're close right?” His own shaky breaths had replied back. His fingers suddenly pistoning in and out of your sopping wet core. Invading and reaching spots no one, not even you had reached before. And your head throws back against him. Hand immediately palming his clothed dick to encourage him further. The unfamiliar feeling of a string coiling around the pit of your stomach had formed. And it threatened to spill out from your cunt like a glass cup that had been too full.

“Mmm..let me touch you too.” You had managed to let out between sighs. Your legs are shivering at this point. And you feel your underwear slip down to pool against your ankles. No longer struggling to keep itself up against your inner thighs. Revealing the lewd scene of his fingers penetrating your cunt. You hadn't even realized he added a finger until he started moving it in a scissoring motion. And you had half a mind to give up on your endeavors to match his euphoria.

But you have always been quite a stubborn person. Even when you had carefully tiptoed around each other. You had been bold in your endeavors. And you were bolder now, more than ever.

“Shit- hold on a second..mmm..” Soshiro had felt the way your hand had reached to unzip his pants. And your palm had gradually encased his dick with the warmth of your fingers. Massaging his erection directly to feel the ridges and veins it naturally had. The tip of it was a raging red that dripped pearlescent drops of his precum. Bubbling at the slit to land on the floor below them.

And Soshiro couldn't help but groan. Imagining that it had been your cunt that had engulfed his dick in languid motions.

Number 10 didn't need to coerce him this time. Getting lost on the feeling as he bucked his hips to meet the sensations you dished out. But despite this, he did not falter in his actions at all. Completely enamored that he could touch you and feel you all at the same time. Driving his mind into a short circuit the minute his fingers managed to reach deeper into your cunt. Finding the hardened button of your g-spot that only makes your vision blurry.

“uh…ahh..I'm close. Soshiro..I'm close..” You had closed your eyes, your movements beginning to turn sloppy as you tried to keep up with his pace. And your shaky moaning had increased in volume since then.

Soshiro could feel the telltale signs of your release. Feeling your cunt squeeze onto his fingers which had been knuckle deep into you at this point. And he too lets out a shaky moan when he feels his semen drip down more steadily from his dick. Leaving the liquid dripping between your fingers and soft palms. “Me too..”

“Just..keep your voice down dear.” He spoke slowly. Burying his face unto the crook of your neck before bucking his hips wildly into your hand. Letting him control the pace in which you had massaged his dick. And he began seeing stars. Your moans had been crystal clear while his fingers stretched you open. Grinding up against your cunt whilst his thumb pressed deeply against your clit to further push you on the edge.

And without warning, you had arched your back to scream.

Soshiro hadn't realized this as you both came. The release for both of you had been so intense that he had forgotten all about Kaiju no. 10 who was still silent but active within his suit. Silently snarling and listening in on the intensity your pleasure had dictated the scene. Number 10 had not been perfected as a weapon, So it still had somewhat of a mind of its own. Able to control just a part of its tail upon being worked on for days on end.

And surprisingly, he made himself rather useful when its weaponized tail wrapped around the jaw of her mouth. Muffling your pleasured screams before you'd be found out by any passing officers outside of the training room.

Your body convulsed at the feeling.

The euphoria traveling in shockwaves as your ivory essence had pooled between your thighs and his hand. Coating it with the liquid that you had not thought you'd be able to reach without Soshiro's expertise. Luckily, his dick was much the same.

Shooting out thick semen that had stained the skin of your calf to create a messy picturesque sequence that he's sure would be number 10’s leverage for the next time they try to test him as a prototype. And that had been all Soshiro needed to know for a sigh to escape his lips. His weird suit sure had its ups and downs he supposes. But if this were to happen again, he'd rather keep you as far away from him when he's wearing this suit for the next time around.

“Sorry..” You had heard Soshiro breathe out. And you watch him in the corner of your eyes. As hair clung against the sweaty sheen of your cheek. The tail that had muffled your mouth slowly retracted upon Soshiro's command. And you could've sworn you heard a faint laughter from within the Number 10. As if he too had been satisfied by such an event.

“What for?” You had smiled. Glancing at the way your lover had breathed heavily. Taking in the steady breathes he needed after the passionate event you had both experienced. And his face had gingerly lifted up from your shoulder. A baffled look crossing his features.

“I didn't mean to attack you like that..I-” He paused. Feeling the way the Combat suit had finally cooled down. Signaling that it had been shut down. Likely because it had not been fitted for a better power source yet. So it turned off on its own before Number 10 could even make another snide comment, one of which Soshiro was sure he'd be doing just about now. Had he the actual power capacity to do so.

And he grits his teeth upon the suit slowly opening up to reveal the compression shirt he wore underneath it. Finally his control had been mostly back. With Number 10 no longer plaguing his thought process.

“Damn this Kaiju..” He whispered. Removing his fingers from your core. And you flinch upon the loss of his warmth.

“It's fine.” You shook your head.

“Was it the Kaiju giving you ideas? or was it all you?” You had asked. Suddenly it was strange that the researcher in you would surface after just touching each other so lewdly earlier. But you couldn't help but wonder. He had acted strangely upon putting on Number 10. You'd only assume they had a spoken agreement earlier when Soshiro had looked protective almost, in the way he had held you.

“Most of it..yeah..” Soshiro had admitted. Awkwardly looking away knowing that he might've crossed boundaries with you. He'd be remiss if you didn't get a little bit angry at the sudden attack. And he wouldn't blame you if you had not wanted to be anywhere near him ever again.

But you surprised him once more when you moved to kiss him on the lips. Unchanged in the way you felt when you had consented to his advances. It was partly your logic that encouraged him. It was partly your fault too for not stopping him when he asked. Now you both were held responsible in submitting a fake report that would inevitably be submitted to command. And such a kiss that spoke those very sentiments leaves him breathless, trying to catch oxygen before it could leave him panting for another.

“Good. I'd be pissed off if you told me you didn't want me at all.”

“Did’ya really think I didn't want you?” He sighed. “I just..wanted you to feel special. Unlike how I treated you before..”

And you couldn't help but smile. Knowing how hard Soshiro had likely been working a lot harder to make time for you despite the nature of their work. And that fact alone, has been enough for your cheeks to flame. His efforts have been enough for you for some time now. Unbeknownst to his better judgement.

“It's fine..just make it up to me another time.” You had spoken softly. Wrapping your arms around his neck. And he in turn hugged you just as tightly back.

“I will. I promise you I will, sweetheart.” He spoke. Leaning back in to capture your lips despite the slight fatigue the suit has done to his body. The heaviness didn't matter much to him anymore. And damn the suit if he had to beat into submission on a later date. Number 10 may have had a grip on him this time, but next time around he won't be the one dictating his desires.

He'd do it himself. Properly and in a much better setting, where he wouldn't be panting like a puppy in heat.

His breathlessness had been a rare sight indeed. But Oxygen was all he needed to kiss you breathless too.

#anime #hoshina soshiro x reader #kn8 #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro #kaiju no. 8 #kaiju no 8 x reader #kn8 x reader #I told you it was the longest word count I have to date #wtf #definitely self indulgent #Just had to get it out of my system #kn8 manga #anime and manga #manga spoilers

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edenesth · 1 year ago

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[4:43 AM]

With a faint groan, you rubbed your eyes groggily, realising you had dozed off once more while waiting for Hongjoong to wrap up in his studio – or so he claimed hours ago.

Retrieving your phone to check the time, you sighed, "It's almost five in the morning, captain. Are you close to finishing up?"

Cursing inwardly, your boyfriend turned towards you, wearing a sheepish smile as if just realising the current time, "I'm really sorry, baby. I could have sworn it was only two o'clock just five minutes ago. Just bear with me for a moment longer; I'm saving my progress, and then we can head home."

Perched on the couch behind him, you shot a surprised glance at the generous opening of his shirt. Narrowing your eyes with a hint of suspicion, you crossed your arms over your chest, "Yah, Kim Hongjoong. Are you trying to seduce me?"

He blinked, trying to comprehend what you were referring to until he followed your gaze and looked down at his attire. Only then did he grasp the extent of the undone buttons. After a moment, a smirk played on his lips, his heart swelling with affection as he relished the adorably sleepy expression on your face while you pouted at him.

"Perhaps I am. It looks like I struggle with buttoning my shirt properly. Would you mind doing it for me?" He teased, powering off his PC and moving over to sit beside you. His hands instinctively found yours as he leaned in to whisper in your ear, "Or... would you prefer to undo them all for me instead?"

His suggestive words elicited a gasp from you, and you playfully slapped his chest, "Are you serious? We're in your workplace!"

Grinning, he held your hand against his chest, "So, does that mean if we were at home right now, you would have welcomed this idea wholeheartedly, hm?"

"Y-you—"

Before you could utter anything further, he was already intoxicated by the comforting fragrance of your perfume, leaning in to capture your lips and silence you.

Your eyes widened at his sudden boldness, considering he had always been reserved about public displays of affection, especially at his workplace where colleagues could walk in at any moment. You figured that sleep deprivation must be getting to him, daring him to take such a risk. After a few unsuccessful attempts to push him away, you surrendered, closing your eyes and kissing him back, melting into his embrace.

Maybe you should have trusted your instincts and stopped things before they reached a point of no return.

The next thing you knew, the door to his studio creaked open, and the voice of his producer, Eden, sounded, "Hongjoong-ah, you're still here? Go home already. Your poor girlfriend must be exhausted waiting—"

He stood still at the entrance as both of you jumped apart, "W-well, it looks like she's not too tired, but that's all the more reason to go home, right? Please don't taint the studio."

You buried your face in your hands as your boyfriend's cheeks flushed deep red. He nodded vigorously, "Y-yes, hyung! We're leaving now!"

After Eden left, you shot him a glare, and he scoffed, pulling you onto your feet and into his waiting arms, "Don't give me that look as if you didn't kiss me back just as eagerly."

Your heart raced at his following words, "Come on, let's hurry home. We should probably finish what we started."

"You need sleep, Joong."

"Not until I have you first, baby."

ATEEZ Masterlist

I know I said I was gonna start working on my thesis but GOOD LORD, I could not get producer Joong out of my mind. Also, thank you so much for 1.2k followers, holy crap!

Hope y'all enjoyed this random timestamp lmao as always, thanks for reading and lmk your thoughts! <3

Tag list: @aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01 @evidive @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho @cereal-simp

#edenesth #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #kim hongjoong #ateez hongjoong #ateez timestamps #hongjoong x reader #hongjoong x you #ateez drabbles #hongjoong drabble #hongjoong fluff #ateez fic #ateez imagines

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hexstrapp · 2 months ago

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Yes, Even More JayVik Headcanons to Cope

jayce has a habit of leaning his chair back on the back legs, and viktor always warns him he's going to fall

he fell Once and viktor is never going to let him forget.

viktor snorts when he laughs

his snorts make jayce laugh even harder

viktor is lowkey a little ghetto LMAO

you can take the man out of zaun but you cant take the zaun out the man

jayce LOVES the beach

viktor HATES sand (and he burns)

but viktor loves watching a shirtless, red tinted jayce run around like a puppy

viktor loves sardines and jayce wanted to see what the "hype" was about

when he crunched into that fish his face just fell

.☹️.

viktor hates the nickname baby

jayce loves any petname

viktor could call him something crazy and he’d absolutely fold

jayce loves having his hands on viktor’s waist.

standing side by side

facing each other

his hands STAY on vik

viktor is a horrible liar when it comes to jayce

once they were getting freaky in the lab and jayce full back pressed into the chalkboard, wiping away hours of work

immediately had to pause and redo the work

jayce is incredibly smart (ofc) but i think he would struggle w focusing for too long which is why all of his notes have doodles in the margins

viktor flips thru them when he’s bored

jayce loves to map and kiss all of viktor’s beauty spots and moles

viktor swears he’s kissed every one

THEY MAKE ME SICK IM GOING TO EXPLODE 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

want more??

(ps… leave requests! they help me write and give me much needed motivation :D )

-rome🪐

#arcane #jayvik #the arcane #viktor arcane #viktor league of legends #jayce x viktor #viktor #arcane jayce #arcane viktor #jayce talis #jayce arcane #jayce x reader #jayce league of legends #viktor x reader #viktor machine herald

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thereoncewasagirlnamedjane · 3 months ago

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small worlds.

✩ read on ao3 ✩ masterlist ✩ forget-me-not creative campaign ✩ library blog

PAIRING — 1940s!steve rogers x f!reader

CONTENTS — one-shot, hurt/comfort, somewhere between fluff and angst, mild sexual content, established relationship

SUMMARY — all he ever wanted to do was the right thing. it never occurred to him that doing the right thing could possibly hurt someone he loves.

W/C — 1.5k

NOTES — this is my submission for my own creative campaign lmao 😅 i just got inspired looking at those prompts again, okay? and these are my missing pre-serum!steve hours 😭 and after the week i’ve had, i need some comfort~

prompts used: ✩ geranium = returning joy ✩ plumeria = “well, this is new.” ✩ zinnia = mourning your absence

Bucky had been wrong.

His best friend predicted that you would be thrilled to see the new him. After all, the girls at the SSR couldn’t seem to stay away, nor could the flight nurses out on the frontlines, no matter how many times he told them he had a girl back home and just wasn’t interested.

Howard was the only one who knew well enough to warn him; given how Steve had left things with you before he took off on his tour across the country, he shouldn’t expect everything to be sunshine and rainbows when he got back.

The two of you had fought, the biggest one in the history of your relationship, and hadn’t spoken to each other in days before he had to leave. His efforts to lie his way into the army was always a source of friction between you, and this, being selected as the subject for Project Rebirth, was just another straw on the camel’s back.

Steve knew you were just afraid for him, as anyone who mattered to him would be, but it was something he knew he had to do. Unfortunately he couldn’t be convinced, but it didn’t mean he wasn’t also terrified of facing the consequences.

“Be prepared to grovel, Rogers, like you’ve never done before,” Howard warned, giving him a grave look before waving him off. “Hell hath no fury.”

So, he showed up at your door only days before he had to leave for Italy, holding a bouquet of flowers and shuffling nervously on his feet as he waited. Steve didn’t know what to say when you opened the door, feeling a little awkward himself at nearly two feet taller and about a hundred fifty pounds heavier.

You stared at him for a moment, almost as if you didn’t recognize him.

“Hi,” he said sheepishly, giving you a hesitant but hopeful smile. You looked like you might reel back and punch him, no doubt still angry about the way things went down and how he’d returned to you looking like an entirely different man, but then your face crumpled.

There were downsides to the serum, he realized, as he could smell the salt of your tears before they even reached your lashes. He leaned down, bending at the waist, something he never had to do before, letting you wrap your arms around his widened shoulders. He could taste the relief in your tears as he kissed them away.

In the hours that followed, however, you remained distant. He caught you staring thoughtfully at him from across the kitchen, only to quickly avert your eyes when he looked up from the hearty dinner you made him.

You pulled away subtly when he reached for your hand or the soft dip of your waist, flinch when he moved to kiss your cheek, and returned all his dumb jokes with tight smiles.

“Well, this is new,” he grinned softly as he stepped behind you, his chest firm against your back, grabbing a jar on a high shelf that you were struggling to reach.

It took you a few moments too long to turn towards him, your lips curving upwards ever so slightly but it never quite touching the rest of your features.

Even when he lay next to you that night, it felt like you were miles away. He was leaving soon, all the way to Italy and then to god knows where else, and he didn’t want to leave things this way. He didn’t want to go yet, not while he was uncertain about whether you’d welcome him back next time.

But as always, it’s like you hear the thoughts in his head without him ever needing to speak them. It’s why this works; he broods and you see through him, as though you have a map directly to his heart.

“It feels strange,” you confess in hushed tones, the two of you lying in the darkness of your bedroom. When the two of you touch, it feels foreign. You feel guilty, as though you were somehow being unfaithful to a version of him that would never come back.

“I know,” he says, reaching for you. His heart sinks when you pull away. He lays there in silence, his enhanced vision capturing you so clearly in the dark, staring up at the ceiling as your bottom lip quivers.

“You took him from me,” you whisper, eyes shining so brightly with anguish in the moonlight. It takes a moment for him to realize what you mean. He can hear the tears sliding down your temples and dripping onto the pillow.

All he ever wanted to do was the right thing. It never occurred to him that doing the right thing could possibly hurt someone he loves.

“I’m still me,” he murmurs, his fingers desperate to wipe them away, his arms itching to find their place around you once again.

“To everyone else, even to you, he was always just that scrappy little nobody from Brooklyn. But to me?” You are weeping now, your voice thick with grief even though he’s right next to you. “To me, he was everything. I don’t want Captain America. I want Steve. My Steve.”

Steve swallows hard. You always were the only one who did.

“He’s still here,” he pulls you close and this time, you don’t fight him. You fold yourself against him, crying harder when you are met with the hard sharp planes of his new body, instead of his usual soft edges that always seemed to embrace you right back. “I’m right here.”

He lets you cry into his chest until, after what seems like hours, you finally drift off into an uneasy sleep, the front of his shirt still damp with your despair.

But it doesn’t take much longer to find a new normal.

He still smiles at you the same way as the day you met, a little sheepish and a little shy even after all this time.

He still does that thing where he intertwines his fingers with yours, his touch a little evasive, teasing you a bit before finally pressing your palms together.

He still holds you for as long as you need, always letting you be the first one to pull away.

He still quietly fills the pages of sketchbooks that he hides on your bookshelf.

He still eats so slowly, taking his time at your dining table because even a slightly bigger portion than normal used to make him sick.

He still looks at the most terrible parts of humanity and decides that the world is worth saving.

You slowly get used to the fact that he can reach the higher cabinets in your kitchen now, that he no longer falls ill at each turn of the season, and that while you will never get to see your Steve again—even though you think of him often—this Steve is right: he never really left.

And when you’ve forgiven him, because there really was no question about it, when you’re ready to give yourself to him again, you’re both a bit nervous and awkward.

It takes a little bit of dancing to get used to each other’s bodies again; you’re much smaller compared to him now, and he’s afraid he’ll forget his newfound strength and inadvertently hurt you somehow.

But, much like you did before when he was small and inexperienced, he guides you and you eagerly follow. He lets you come to him, allows you to set the pace and boundaries of how far you’re willing to go, and he always looks at you the same. He even says it again—

“I can’t believe you’re here with me,” he croaks, so close you can smell his aftershave.

It’s moments like these when you fully realize that while the serum changed him on the outside, it never touched what was inside. As always, he handles you with the utmost care, pulling you cautiously onto his lap, his hands gently cradling either side of your face as he drinks you in, eyes darting back and forth across your face before he finally leans in to kiss you.

His eyes never once leave yours, even as you abandon your dress and undergarments on the bedroom floor. His fingertips slide down your sternum in a featherlight touch, down the valley between your breasts, before turning his hand over to brush his knuckles lightly over your rib cage, raising goosebumps in his wake.

You stare into his familiar eyes, the ones that fill your vision with the clearest blue—as if you’re looking into a cloudless summer sky, just like the day you met the boy with a heart ten sizes too big for his chest—and you sigh in relief.

“There you are,” you purr against his lips.

His lips stretch into a smile, coaxing yours into doing the same. He remembers a promise he’d made to someone else not that long ago, and he promises it again—to you this time.

That you will stay who you are.

That he will never lose your Steve.

fin.

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