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dissociativewriter · 28 days ago

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Unnatural Affinity- Part 11

Isekai!Reader x Love and Deepspace

wc: 2.3k

cw: angst, questioning of worth, feeling empty, fluff, maybe comfort?

Synopsis: Returning to Linkon for a brief visit, you get help from Nero and talk with Xavier about recent developments. Back in Skyhaven, Em and Caleb are grappling with your absence.

author’s note: writing xavier for this was kinda tough because im not super familiar with him and i know he’s really nuanced but omg i think im in love with him now >_< anyways y’all its two am right now so im gonna go to sleep now and hate myself in the morning <3 im really proud of this part though so its alright (this isn’t proofread btw so if there’s typos no there isn’t)

taglist: @animegamerfox @ixloom819 @magennta09 @an-ever-angry-bi @corvid007 @vigtore @ph1lo-s0ph1a @ameili @babyx91 @sadsaidthesadthing @bidisasterforevermore @liz9898 @iconoclastoc @elegantdeerlady @lifumi @auraficial @plzdonutpercieveme @dolledbunnytail @junebuggz @mangooes @anatherone @skulzooka @yuhuahuaaa @nm4565natty @feikyuu @lunia-likes-pomegranet @xfangirl-trashx @glitterykingdomangel @eialovescats @mimiu3usoft @alyssac9 @000rpheus @novaisbebita @coffeedragonhobbyist @udejoenrlddo @lanxianschoenheit @paper--angel @xyzbeloved @rafayelridesfisheatsfish @myheartfollower @nightmarewasteland @feralwolfkat @junni-berry @chiikasevennn @lethalasylum @loudpiratepirate @sweetnightowl @rafaissance @white-wolves-and-golden-sunrises @iunse @asilaydead

Series Masterlist

The black leather and tinted windows of Sylus’s car drew shadows and visions out from the corner of your eye. You shifted to the middle, leaning forward so you were between the driver and passenger’s seats, where Luke and Kieran argued over the best route to take.

“You guys really don’t have to do this,” you interrupted. “I could get back to Linkon myself.”

“Actually, we do have to do this, Little Boss,” Kieran said sheepishly. “Boss-man’s orders.”

“Seriously?” you groaned, falling back against the seat with a soft thud.

“Yep,” Luke confirmed. “Boss said we had to take you to Linkon safely, then watch in the car from a safe distance so that his ‘little dove’ wouldn’t notice and get mad.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Why do you have to watch me in the first place?”

“Boss-man said it’s to make sure the hunter doesn’t get any ideas.” He shrugged.

“It’s a left here, right?” Kieran asked, quickly glancing towards Luke.

Luke turned around, looking back towards the road. “I thought you kept going straight… I don’t know, I don’t even remember what the Hunter’s Association looks like anymore!”

You pulled your hand down your face. “I’m going to die in this car,” you muttered.

The Hunter’s Association was sterile. Clean. Efficient. Hunters rushing to respond to alerts, researchers rushing to make their lunch break.

You eyed the Hunters’ desks as you pushed forward into the research department. Em’s desks was just as she’d left it that night you both prepared for this mission. Plushies still in place, old reports forgotten and discarded.

The research department contrasted the rest of the Association, just like the researchers contrasted the hunters. There were those that stayed comfortably behind the scenes, and those that claimed all the glory.

Simple. That was the best word to describe it. Simple, but not barren. Simple, in the way the chicken noodle soup was when your mother made for you that day you were a sick little six year old. Simple, in the way that life used to be.

Simple, in the way you wished it still was.

The soft lighting caressed you, unlike the harsh, bright lights in the training grounds. The smell of tea permeated the air, creating a warmth that settled deep in your chest. Stacks of papers, rows of books, all dotted around the department, created such an atmosphere. Always something to do, never terrible pressure to do it. It was calm, comforting, to be surrounded by so much knowledge and feel that you had all the time in the world to pursue it.

You found Nero at his desk, scribbling something down with a steaming cup of tea next to him. He didn’t look up as you approached, continuing to wield his pen as if it were the only thing keeping him alive. He started when you cleared your throat, nearly knocking his tea off the desk.

“Oh, hey! It’s you.” Nero breathed a sigh of relief before furrowing his brows. “You’re back early. Did something happen?” His eyes immediately dropped to your bandaged hands, fighting the urge to pry so you could tell him on your own terms.

Following his gaze, you raised a hand dismissively. “It’s nothing. Really. Just a… a stupid mistake.”

“If you say so,” Nero said hesitantly. “Have you already seen the medic? I can call them, if you want.” You stopped his hand already reaching for the phone. His gaze snapped to yours.

“I’m fine, Nero. It’s just a couple scratches.” He nodded, lowering his hand onto the table, yours still resting on top. “Could you do me a favor?” you asked.

“Of course! What do you need? I’ll help any way I can,” he replied immediately.

“Well, first things first, Em is probably going to come around asking about me,” you began. “When she does, I want you to tell her you haven’t seen me, alright?”

Nero nodded slowly. “Sure, but why? Did you two have a falling out?”

“Something like that,” you sighed. “This next thing might be a bit complicated.” You leaned in a bit closer. “Is that alright?”

Nero nodded again, vigorously this time. “That’s alright! I just want to help you as best I can.” He leaned in, too, his voice lowering as a flush painted his cheeks. “To be honest, you’re probably my only real friend here. I get the feeling the other guys don’t really listen. So, I want to help you as much as you helped me.”

Feeling your chest swell with his quiet confession, you pressed a delicate kiss to his cheek, watching with soft laughter as the red across it darkened with blush. “Thanks, Nero,” you whispered.

“Um, any— anytime,” he stuttered. “What did you need me to do?”

In the quiet of the research department, you carefully explained your request.

Caleb’s apartment hadn’t been filled with a calm quiet in days.

There was quiet, sure. But none peaceful.

There was the quiet of plotting, the quiet of sulking, the quiet of anger, the quiet of regret, no matter how briefly lived.

It echoed in Caleb’s apartment, reaching the farthest corners and leaving neither one of its occupants untouched. Caleb had succumbed to the quiet days ago. An acceptance that this was how it was going to be from now on. Things would never be the same.

He was foolish to think they would be.

Em seemed to deny the quiet. She wanted to act like it hadn’t consumed her, even as it chipped away at her halved soul. The quiet invaded her eyes, replacing the complete emptiness, the desolation, with an acknowledged lacking. The awareness that something was missing, even if there was no certainty as to what that was.

Caleb watched as she crumbled, watched her increasing defiance towards the decay. He could recount just when the fall began, down to the minute.

The apartment was quiet when they’d returned. The kind of quiet that leaves a sickness pooling in the pit of your stomach, a feeling that tells you something was wrong.

But nothing was out of place. Caleb made sure of it. He moved from the kitchen to the bedrooms, checking every nook and cranny for anything that was even slightly off.

Nothing.

He halted in front of your bedroom. Should he knock, did he have the right to? You had so little peace left, he knew, so who was he to disturb that?

He walked past with a deep sigh.

Em practically fell into the living room, uniform disheveled and hair a mess. She collapsed onto the couch, pulling an apple pillow into her arms. “Caleb, do you ever feel... less than whole?”

Caleb looked up, eyeing her from the opposite side of the room. He closed the distance in a few quick strides, stopping just an arm’s reach away from her. “Are you feelin’ that way, pip-squeak?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No, it just—” a sharp exhale “—just something I read somewhere.” She stood abruptly, dropping the pillow as she move with purpose. “I’m going to check…” she trailed off.

The walk down the hallway felt too long, allowing Em’s thoughts to consume her as she approached your door. Would you still be mad, she wondered? Would you yell? Would you be crying? Or would you be accepting, finally seeing her point of view?

She gave a soft knock on the door. A warning. She opened it quietly, wary of your possible reactions. When met with silence, she pushed further in.

Abandoned. That’s what it was. Empty. No sign of you. No lingering warmth, no comforting scent of shampoo, no gentle caress of breath.

Just cold.

Em’s legs moved before her mind fully comprehended it. She searched frantically, watched with a quiet detachment as her hands pulled apart curtains and blankets, hoping, wishing, that you were just hiding.

That you weren’t really gone.

“Caleb!” she called, voice mixing into something foreign. It broke slightly as she called again, the grief cracking through.

Caleb came running, like he always did. He slowed as he walked in, taking in the strewn pillows and blankets, the curtains torn from their rods, the woman standing in the middle of the chaos looking so small, like that kid in the lab that didn’t quite understand what was going on, why this was happening to them.

“Gone,” she whispered. “I don’t know—” Her voice caught. “How? When?”

Caleb’s arms surrounded her, snaking around her in a firm grip, ensuring she couldn’t slip away, away into her mind or away into the world. “I don’t know, pips,” he admitted quietly. “I don’t now how it could have happened.”

“Someone helped,” she said, voice hardening. “Someone had to. And I think I have an idea as to who would.”

Em pulled herself away from Caleb’s grip, leaving him empty, reaching for something that wouldn’t stay. He watched as the fire returned to her eyes, briefly, the flame quickly igniting before the downpour of grief snuffed it out.

Something was missing now. Something she now needed.

Caleb realized with that quiet horror that she truly wanted it, needed it back.

That quiet horror consumed, it seemed, melding and mixing with every barely changing mood.

The quiet persevered.

The training grounds were loud, almost overwhelmingly so. Despite the twilight and approaching dusk, hunters still dueled and trained as if chasing the sun’s departure.

“Xavier!” you called out.

The hunter paused, his light blade freezing mid-strike as he met your gaze. He dropped it to his side, letting it fade away in a soft, slow burst of light.

You raised a hand, motioning for him to come closer. He came forward, face hiding any doubts he had though confusion was littered in the sea of his eyes. He raised a hand to wipe the sheen of sweat from his forehead, taking the brief moment of pause to observe you.

“Did you need something?” he asked hesitantly.

“I actually have something important to tell you,” you said sheepishly. “Is it alright if we talk someplace private?”

Stiffening slightly, Xavier only offered a nod. You lightly took his hand, leading him away from the training grounds and through the Association. The setting sun cast an orange glow through the spacious windows, painting an otherworldly glow on Xavier’s figure.

You finally stopped in an empty courtyard outside the Association. Flower arrangements, trees, and topiaries dotted the space, along with the occasional wooden picnic table. Leading Xavier to one in the far corner, you sat down on the table top, resting your feet on the bench. You patted the space next to you.

Xavier took it without hesitation, situating himself so he could face you. He tilted his head. “What’s wrong?”

You let a few beats of silence fill the space between you.

“I don’t know how to tell you this…” You took a deep breath. “I’m not from here. From this world, universe, whatever.” You shook your head as if to shake away the confusion.

Saccharine blue eyes bore into yours, the depths of the galaxy and all its secrets hidden within them.

“I think you might understand it,” you explained slowly, “because you’re similar. You’re not from this time.”

Xavier’s body went rigid. Something changed in his eyes. They were hard. Protective. Powerful.

“How do you know that?” The softness seemed to melt away from his voice, giving way to something that demanded respect.

“The way I know that goes in hand with what I have to tell you,” you said quickly. “In my world, there was an… awareness of this one. But, it wasn’t really another world. It was— sort of a—”

“Stop beating around the bush and tell me.” You nearly flinched from the coldness in his tone, the way the trust lingering between you had seemingly disappeared. His shoulders slumped as he watched you draw back. “Continue, please,” he said quietly.

With a shaky breath, you obliged. “Where I’m from, this world was all a game.”

“A game?” Xavier’s gaze snapped to yours, brow furrowing slightly.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “It was a romance game. There was this Main Character that the player could sort of self insert into, and five Love Interests.”

Xavier nodded along with you. “This was all a game… and you know about me from this game?”

You carefully explained everything you could to Xavier. The plots, the Love Interests, all the past loves fated to be doomed. You were cautious when explaining the existence of the other men, but Xavier handled it better than you’d expected after glimpsing his jealousy.

“I sort of knew she had others, but,” he gave you a soft smile, “even if it was a game, that means that somehow, someplace, I succeeded. We were able to be together. That’s enough for me, I think.”

You swallowed, blinking back tears you felt forming. “I’m sorry you had to find out like this,” you whispered. “To find out it was all a game, I don’t think I’d handle it as well as you are.”

Xavier took your hand in his, soft and firm. “There’s not much for me to do about it, I’ve realized. You can only live with what you are given, and what you find. If this is what I’m given, I’ll take it. My love with her may have been made for a story, but it’s real to me.” He leaned back, angling his head up towards the sky. “If it’s all fake, then it’s a beautiful fantasy to live in. The stars alone are enough.”

Getting up front the table, you and Xavier fell back against the grass, hand in hand. The earth cradled your bodies as the soft blades of grass caressed your bare skin. Stars painted the night sky, swirls of blues and purples highlighting the soft glow of distant plants and constellations.

“If you’re the only real thing I’ve known,” Xavier said slowly, reverently, “I think I can accept that. Knowing the real you is honor enough, even in a world that’s only a facade. Your presence is the only reality I need.”

You laughed softly, and he closed his eyes, seeming to bask in the sound. “I’m honored to know you, Xavier. Knowing you, really knowing you, is better than I imagined.” You sighed wistfully. “You’re so certain, so quietly confident. I feel so lost, but it seems you always know your way.”

“The best way to find direction is by the North Star,” he whispered. “Sometimes, you can find that in another person. I think I’ve found my North Star in you.”

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nanamiskentos · 8 months ago

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GREEDY — gojo satoru minors dni

prologue. → pretty, prodigal, and teasing. how far can you push your former teacher before he snaps? gojo's about this 🤏 close from releasing a hollow purple on the world.

pairing. gojo satoru x afab!reader

warnings+. màstúrbation (m.) and rough sèx, creaḿpie. some angst/doubt. angsty love confession before gojo póunds reader into the mattress. incorrect use of reversed curse technique. arguments and stuff. description of injuries. def mean!gojo a bit and he's got vampire tendencies.

reader is of legal age (implied to be 19-20) and gojo is 28 so age gap!romance. obsessed!gojo and popular girl!reader trope. gojo is absolutely a mess in this, and reader is described as wearing short skirts, and wearing makeup.

rather questionable ethics and dynamics (teacher/former student) but rest assured its clear that his feelings are pretty recent. reader has him twirled and whipped around her fingers. reader is also def a baddie and ambiguously bi.

word count. 8.7k words im mad actually. this was meant to be headcanons song inspiration. greedy — tate mcrae

a/n. this is was gonna be from reader's pov but i thought it would be more fun from gojo's 🙂‍↔️

mp3. i see you eyeing me down, but you'll never know much past my name. or how i'm running this room, but i'm still half your age. yeah, you're looking at me like i'm some sweet escape 😛

gojo satoru was not a weak man, no. he knew that he was an anomaly of nature, an unstoppable power that could reduce enemies to dust and make entire clans crumble with nothing more than a flick of his wrists.

so how was it, that when it came to you, his resolve was paper-thin?

every time your open gaze met his, every time you brushed past him, every time your presence filled the space around his infinity, gojo felt something inside him unravel. his breath would be caught in his chest, leaving his pulse to quicken and suddenly, all that strength and control would slip through his fingers.

gojo cursed himself for this, you see. he had never been one to lose control, but he was not quite sure when his entire body has started to betray him.

but no, fuck that, and he did his utter best to run his focus back onto the lesson at hand. unfortunately, the lesson at hand was with you. standing in front of him, arms slightly raised, palms out, and raising your brow as boredom passed over your face.

gojo cleared his throat, "your stance is good, but your cursed energy is all over the place. focus, breathe. centre yourself is what i'm saying," he instructed, but the words felt hollow as they passed through his lips.

unfairly, you're weren't the problem. he was. and now this was getting ridiculous. you had graduated not two, three years past? it would have been a disservice to still call you his student, but even as a mentee, you were still under his tutelage. and as recent as this immature infatuation was, this felt wrong.

but now you were frowning, starting to waver and the sharp, staccato tap of your heeled boot punctuated the wooden floor, click, click!

gojo looked to the sky, briefly, if to pray for patience and a calm of some sorts. he stepped forwards towards you, placing a hand on your waist to guide you into a better stance, and trying to ignore the way your skin felt warm underneath his fingers.

focus.

"don't let your body twist like that when you utilise your own cursed energy. keep it straight, balanced," he muttered, adjusting your posture slightly, hand on your spine — the heel of his palm pressing into a dent. a deity from the sky must have struck him with a cursed arrow, for his whole body was on fire.

because there you were, standing right in front of him, so close that gojo could feel the soft heat of your breath, the faint scent of a sweet perfume wafting off your skin, vanilla?

"you're not focused," gojo grimaced, though he wasn't sure if the rebuke was at himself, or at you — whose eyes widened briefly, and gojo tried not to recognise the curiosity and challenge that flashed across your face.

look at how she's staring at me. and gojo felt utterly ridiculous, and exposed, she knows. but instead of pulling away, you shifted ever so slightly towards him, your body arching as the barest brush of your breasts against his forearm had heat pulling through his body.

would you taste as sweet as you smelt? would you lean more into him if he asked?

he cleared his throat, "okay. relax, not every stance or position works for an individual. perhaps, you'll be able to focus better like this," and with his hand still on your waist, he pulled you into a swift spin. one that left your back pressed against the hard planes of the chest, and you facing the other wall.

you hummed, this time not in the way he wanted. your lips were lightly parted, and there was that soft sheen of gloss catching the light, making your lips look impossibly soft. gojo caught himself staring, wandering what it would be like to press his own mouth to yours, and whether you would squeal or moan.

still, if there was anything that gojo was good at, it was deflecting like a champ, "i think you're distracted," he laughed, low and amused, "is something making you lose focus?"

you tilted your head, and gojo didn't miss (nor did his heart or groin) that your gaze flickered to his mouth for the briefest second before meeting his eyes again, feigning innocence, "don't tell me you're underestimating me, sensei. because i'd hate to think you can't keep up?"

gojo bit back a grin at the obvious bait, "careful," brushing strands of white hair that had fallen into his face away, "if you get too cocky, you tend to miss danger. you start to ignore things that should be noticed."

your voice dropped to a droll whisper, eyes glinting, "you think i don't notice things? i'm aware of plenty."

gojo forced himself to focus, to ignore the way that your lashes flutter with unshakable composure. trying to regain control, or some semblance of mind, he started counting each individual lash painted dark with mascara, lingering on the outermost curls that framed your sharp eyes.

after a beat, he forced himself to break eye contact, "alright," he said, stepping back with a casual shrug that he hoped conveyed just how nonchalant he was, "we’ll call it a day here and continue training tomorrow."

"backing out already?" you teased, leaning in just a little, making him tense at the closeness.

gojo chuckled, feigning nonchalance. "for your sake. you may be powerful, but you have to pace yourself."

you shrugged, nodding, "i'm going out anyway this evening," you said, hopping back a step before bending down to gather your things. gojo politely averted his gaze, his heart hammering from your previous proximity, and desperately hoping to avoid a...reaction, that would be quite inconvenient, as wide and loose as his martial pants were. like a fuckin' school boy with a crush. gross.

but as you slung your pastel bag over your shoulder and straightened up, he couldn't help a quick glance, catching the small, coy glimmer in your eyes as you turned to leave.

gojo sighed, pulling up his blindfold once more, "have fun," he half-heartedly offered, but you were already out the door.

the corridors were now empty, the clang of metal and chatter now silent, replaced with a quiet hum of the air conditioning. gojo wiped his face with the towel wrapped around his neck, the damp fabric clinging to his skin and the muscles in his arms and chest still warm from the intensity of training. his arms and chest glistened, the muscles warm and taut as he stretched, rolling his shoulders back with a low groan. exhaustion settled into him like a weight, each movement of his tired, bare torso slow and deliberate.

"oh, you're still here, sensei?"

gojo's eyes snapped open, drawn to the sound of your inquisitive voice. you stood in the doorway, framed by the dim light from the hallway, and he immediately felt a rush of heat flood his chest.

well, fuck, now his mouth was dry. clearly, your previous iteration of 'going out' was a bit more glamorous than you had led on, and he was certain his wandering eyes betrayed him as it flickered over your figure. it took a titan's strength to keep his eyes from trailing down your long legs, the way your dress hugged the swell of your chest, or over your glistening neck. there was a faint shimmer, a glitter of some sort? it coated your skin, and gojo wanted to lick it off with his tongue.

what? no. who said that?

he swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep his composure.

you scowled at his reaction, clearly mistaking his silence for distaste. "what? i did say i was going somewhere," you retorted, your tone sharp but amused. "i’m more than allowed to leave the campus grounds.”

"of course,” he replied, voice outstandingly steady but his mind still trailing after every curve, every detail that made you look...well...dangerous in the best way, "don't let me stop you. who's the lucky guy?"

you arched a brow, folding your arms over your chest, and now, gojo really did have to look away and pretend that he was busy with retying a dark piece of cloth over his eyes, "who said it was a guy?"

gojo thickly swallowed, wondering if he'd just made a colossal blunder with no return, "that's not what i meant." the words 'my bad' stuck in his throat as you laughed and sighed.

"joking, sorry. it's a guy, this time." now you were fiddling with your long nails, with a satisfying clack as they ran across each other.

"i hope he shows you a great time then," he offered, half-hearted, blasé.

you took a step into the room, and gojo didn't even need six eyes to know that your eyes were raking over his chest, "i'm sure he will," all sweetness and sugar, "i've been training so hard, i deserve it, don't i?"

the words hit him harder than he expected, and he had to remind himself — she's not yours, satoru. but that didn't stop the gruff irritation bubbling up.

"a real man should be taking you out on a date like this,” he said, his voice a bit too rough for his liking. "not some guy who’s probably just looking for a good time."

you scoffed lightly, rolling your eyes. "are you saying that there's someone else out there who can do a better job?" your tone was playful, but there was a challenge in it — an edge that made his heart skip once more, "sadly, there just aren't many who've handled me well."

he ignored your immature, faux pout, and ran a hand through damp, icy hair — ignoring how his temper flared, rearing its ugly head.

was this all on purpose? to toy with him?

"you want to be handled, sweetheart?" gojo's voice dropped a little lower, indulging your teasing, "i've seen you lose focus easily, you could easily break."

your lips creased up, painted a tempting shade of dried-blood red (what the fuck was wrong with him? was he now just a horny vampire?) as you purred, "i'd need some help testing out that theory." your expression was open just enough for him to see the tiniest flicker of something in your eyes — something that told him you were enjoying this far more than you should.

an invitation of sorts, he wondered. did you want him to move? to make a move? it wasn’t a secret that you had always been a popular student practically a legend, rumours swirling around you like wildfire — whispers of broken hearts and sweetened smiles that could captivate anyone in your path. he had never paid attention of course, gossip always ran wild among students and he discouraged such whispers of who-did-what, for a grade 1 curse would never indulge such behaviour before they would get torn to shreds.

and even now, long after graduation as you worked around your old alma mater, men and women — everyone swooned at the chance to speak with you, and yet, here you were, playing this dangerous game with him.

gojo scowled, trying to push past the desire building inside him, the urge to have you underneath him, right on this mat in the training room. "well, don’t hang around too long," he said, his tone sharp as a blade. "i’m sure your date is waiting. go have a good time."

invitation declined. the morally right thing to do. right?

he didn’t need to look to see the small sneer that curled at the corner of your lips, or the way it turned into a fleeting expression of annoyance. he could hear the click of your heels echo down the hallway as you sashayed out.

what the everlasting fuck was wrong with him?

lo and behold, the great gojo satoru often found himself alone in his own private rooms. for 'the strongest' rarely had time to accommodate some other forms of company.

and frankly, he had no desire to do so now regardless. not when the echoes of your clicking heels still reverberated in his mind. the silence that echoed around him was heavy, suffocating and he was sure he looked erratic.

gojo ran a hand over his face, trying to shake the thought of you. but it was useless. his body was still on fire, the heat of jealousy smouldering in his chest, coiling in his gut like something alive, something dangerous. he had walked to the nearest chair and collapsed into it, his legs splayed wide apart as his shoulders slumped under the soft, amber glow of the setting sun that streamed through the windows. the sorcerer let his head fall back against the chair, eyes closed.

how absolutely ridiculous, he thought, running his fingers through his tousled hair. no, he just couldn't stop it. couldn't stop thinking about how badly he wanted you. wanted you to want him too. and now, with the way you’d left, with that knowing smile on your lips, all he could imagine was the man you were with now, the man who’d be holding the door open for you, who’d be pulling out your chair, whoever the hell he was.

maybe even a casual, non-sorcerer. some random guy that you had indulged because he was no threat. but he wouldn't be able to touch you, not in the way that you demanded. the man would laugh at your jokes, brush his hand against yours, but wouldn't be able to let a real smile bubble from your lips like satoru could.

and what would that man do next?

would he try to take you back to his place? some small poorly-lit apartment where he'd try to kiss you, to claim your lips without even pulling away for air. would you kiss him back, curling into his frame?

before gojo's even registered what he's doing, his own hand has found his hard cock. despite the tattle of assistance, and dreamy-eyed mongers, pleasure is rare for him. relief, even less so. his schedule just doesn't allow it, and so he oft find himself chasing some distant contentment like this, alone in his rooms.

but he squeezes at the wide hilt, at his base, pulling his hands up, upwards as his brows furrow under blindfold, and he tugs the offending fabric off, away from him, as laden balls smack against his wrist.

maybe the man would then trail his lips down your neck, maybe he'd try to slowly sink his teeth into delicate flesh, leaving blooming purple marks that wouldn't fade, not when gojo saw you tomorrow.

he's running his curled hand up towards the fat mushroom tip, almost glowing pink with heat and pre-cum that's leaving his hand slicked with faint moisture, "shit, that's it."

then what? he can imagine your teasing smile as you decide to take your pleasure as you see fit. how you'd suddenly push this faceless man off, and move so you're straddling him, letting his hands wander around the curve of your hips, digging into plush flesh.

now he's starting to pant, open-mouthed, "ah - fuck! wish i had you here, right here." gojo must be a madman, breathing out to the empty, open air.

but in his mind's eye, you're reaching behind your back to undo the zipper on your outstandingly tight dress, giving the faceless man a coy smile as you push the fabric of your dress down, letting your plentiful tits spill out and against the man's chest.

his wrist is moving faster now, and there's a cramp starting to build up as he pistons his hand over his stretched shaft, and one arm is thrown over his face — the soft hairs on his thick forearm tickling his face as he tries not to gasp or whine too loudly, but he's bucking his ups now, pretending that it's not his hand that he's spilling into, but your tight cunt. and later, he shudders and tenses up, with apologies whispered into the air, "look, look - shit, i'm sorry - i'm sorry. couldn't help it, fuck." and gojo's bitten his lips so hard that he's certain he's drawn blood, vibrant red blooming on pale, creamy skin.

and a lamp had exploded as he came. damn, he'd have to replace that.

you don't deserve someone like him, no. not when he's sitting here, absolutely filthy with thick, white seed entirely over his tense abdominal muscles and stiff hand. not when he's trying to catch his breath after imagining how snug your pussy would feel around him, and how you'd beg for him to give it to you harder.

you didn't deserve someone so messed up with guilt, with mistakes, with the kind of weight that made him too much for anyone, let alone someone like you. didn't you deserve better than a tortured man who couldn't control himself, better than an overzealous mentor who was supposed to keep his distance, to do what was right.

but that didn’t stop his thoughts from swirling, as he separated damp, thick thighs from the smooth surface of the chair, reaching for a tissue. he couldn’t help it. and it made him feel like a damn fool.

the meeting room buzzed with tension, voices rising in sharp, clipped exchanges — some angry, some demanding and others clueless and questioning. gojo had woken up in a foul mood that morning, with some ill-gotten storm brewing beneath his chest. perhaps it was the thoughts of you that lingered from the night before, a gnawing jealously that left him feeling too tight in the stiffness of the uniform dress pants.

but he had forced himself to be dragged through this meeting, plastering a snarky light-hearted grin over his face as he leaned against the wall, letting the higher-ups argue themselves into oblivion.

amidst the storm of words, gojo's focus was nowhere near the mission being discussed. no, his attention was fixated entirely on you. you stood at the far end of the table, eyes flashing with ire as you tore into some pompous old fool who’d dared question your power. the others in the room shifted uncomfortably, deferring to you, as they often did, despite your youth. you had that rare combination of presence and bite that made people recoil back when you sunk your teeth into them, and this was not a knot gojo was interested in unraveling.

kojiro, one of the bumbling administrators, had turned his babbling attention to gojo, "you're still planning to face that curse head-on, gojo-san?" the poor man is wringing his hands at gojo's flat look (made all the more unreadable through a blindfold, satoru would wager), "don't you think it would be well - unwise? instead of expending your time and energy on one cursed spirit, you could handle five lesser ones. efficiency, you see."

gojo's gaze briefly flickers back to you, standing with your arms crossed as one hand fiddles with the end of your braid as your petal-pink lips scowl at some other official with words that don't fit his stature. your other hands keeps reaching around your neck, adjusting a plaid scarf over and over, like you're desparate to hide something under the fabric . well, fuck that.

"i'm aware of the risks," gojo turns his attention back to the matter, "but no one here has time for hesitation. if the curse is special grade, don't you at least think that delaying with lead to more destruction?"

"is it really the cursed spirit you’re worried about, takumi-san?" you asked, your voice low, the kind of voice that could make someone forget their own name.

gojo's gaze snapped to you from under the blindfold, but you weren’t looking at him, not even speaking at him. instead, you were locking eyes with one of the other sorcerers — takumi, a grade two with a shaggy mop of golden hair, one who had been a student alongside you and hardly subtle in his admiration for you.

gojo tries to hide a scoff at how takumi's eyes are wandering over you, ignoring the newpapers that have been flattened on the meeting table, with bold inked letters reading doom-portents such as 'unexplained explosion, 4 dead and 12 injured."

time and place, man.

"you don't think i can handle this mission. if you're worried about me, just say so," takumi's now leaning into you, even as gojo tries to train his ear on kojiro's economic-obsessed babble instead.

gojo can see your eyes flicker to the dastardly newspapers as well, clearly curling your lips at the dour news and takami's disastrous attempt at getting his hands under your skirt. but he also knows that sharp glint in your eyes, the one when you toy with those around you, to pull them in without ever committing to anything. clearly, you've decided to indulge this game.

"takumi," and you draw out the younger man's name, "shouldn't you bring more strength to the table? of course, i'm worried about a friend getting hurt. but even if you were stronger, or the strongest, a special grade curse could do some real damage."

and your eyes have flicked right towards gojo, raking over his frame leaning against the pale cream walls. he's glad for the blindfold, so you can't see how he scowls and furrows his thin brows at you, at your blatant hopes for a reaction from him. were you so unobservant that you did not know how much you bothered him?

the pointed sharpness in your words made takumi pause, and for just a moment, gojo could see the man’s grin falter. it was clear that you weren’t impressed by his attention, you had no need for his slimy attempts.

there was no mistake about it — this wasn’t just a flirtation. this was a game you played, and gojo was not only aware of it; he was caught in it. he tries not to feel irrationally angry, fuck, so much of his life revolves around his work, his job and now he can't even do that properly without feeling like you're using your long nails to dangle something in front of him, wanting to snap his teeth out and snatch it.

so you wanted him to see this. you wanted to claim that you could unravel the strongest sorcerer from the heavens to the earth below, to make him lose his composure. gojo feels as if there is crackling ozone in the air, and wonders dimly if the weather forecast predicted a rain storm for later today.

takumi, sensing the shift, finally backed off with a huff, but not before giving all around him a lingering look, as if it was their fault that you weren't interested.

"enough distractions," kojiro's interjected, raking a finger through a beard streaked with gray, and he's shooting a pointed look at you, snapping rose-pink gum, and takumi, shuffling with his hands in his pockets. "we're here to discuss the mission, not flirt." and then, he's off mumbling something about how this was why he hated having younger sorcerers join the meeting rooms.

his ire only grew. gojo stood with his back against the wall, outside the meeting room, once everyone had left with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. you stood in front of him, your eyes flashing with anger, your chest rising and falling with each sharp breath.

"absolutely not," gojo stood his ground firmly, "no-one will let you go on this mission."

you stomped on the floor, once as your heels snapped an echo, "they will if you say so."

gojo stuffs his hands in his pockets, "who said that i would also allow you?"

you scoffed, folding your arms across your chest, mimicking his previous stance but with a clear defiance in your posture. "and why the hell not? i'm more than capable of handling it. it's my fucking choice, and how can extra help hurt?"

"enough!" gojo snapped, feeling a tense pain in between his eyes, "it's too dangerous. and you're too young -"

"too young!" you've interrupted him, "i'm not some helpless child, sensei. i'm a grade 1 sorcerer! one of the best, i don't need to be treated like i can't handle a mission."

"grade 1. not special-grade."

his eyes narrowed, his jaw tight. gojo could see the fury in your eyes, but there was something else there, something deeper, a vulnerability that he had seen before in students, some desire to prove themselves and be heaped with praise. he knew you were good, better than most — hell, better than many of the adults he’d seen. but this cursed spirit was unlike anything you’d faced before. and yet, here you were, challenging him, pushing him, daring him to stop you.

"you don’t get it," he muttered, the words slipping from his mouth before he could stop them. "you think you’re invincible, but you’re not. you're too reckless."

"reckless!" now you had taken a step towards him, narrowing the space between you both. your eyes were fierce now, but there was something else in them — a spark of hurt that made his chest tighten, and gojo began to wander where this would start spiral. "i’m not reckless. i know exactly what i’m doing. the only reckless thing here is you thinking you have the right to control my every move."

"i'm the one in charge here," he said, his voice hoarse, the words coming out sharper than he intended. "and i'm telling you now, you’re not going. you’re not ready for this. don't involve the higher-ups in this."

you were so close now, just inches apart. his eyes flicked to your lips, with the arch of a blooming flower kissed by the sun, for a brief moment, and then back up to your face, where anger and frustration mixed with something else — a challenge.

"maybe that’s the problem," you said, your voice quieter now, but still holding an edge. "you think i'm still some child who needs you to tell me what to do. maybe you just don’t want me to outshine you."

the words are ridiculous, and he can see by the mild quiver as your throat bobs that you don't mean what you say. it takes a rare type of courage to tell the first person in four hundred years to be born with limitless and six eyes, that he could be outshined. but satoru doesn't say a word to rebuke your obvious and false bait.

your body is so close now that gojo could feel the heat of your skin, your breath brushing against his. he could smell the faint sweetness of vanilla again in the air mingled with fresh, crisp apples, could see the subtle shine of your lip gloss catching the light. it was a testament to his spirit, he thinks, that he did not lean in straight away and touch his mouth to yours in this scenario that certainly did not warrant it.

"you want me to stop you that badly?" he hissed, his voice a mix of frustration and something darker, that had not yet snapped. "is that what this is? a game? a way for you to get my attention? to see how far you can push me before i do snap?"

now he's got your tongue, and your expression has flickered for a brief moment before schooling into an impassive mask, and gojo briefly wanders if he's crossed an awful line and misinterpreted everything. if they're gonna stick a white dunce hat on his head and parade him through the streets of outer tokyo for being an assuming fool.

but then you've stepped even closer, your breath coming faster, the weight of your chest almost pressed against his, and gojo doesn't move and he's briefly aware that he's let his infinity down.

"partly, you know it's not just about you though. i do want to go on this mission, but -" you tilt your head and look right up at him, and the older man's head starts to reel from the fact that he was right all along, "i do want to see how far you can go before you snap."

his heart pounded, and for a moment, everything went still. all the tension, all the heat, the anger, and the desire — everything seemed to converge in the space between you. gojo's hand twitched, aching to touch you, but he held himself back, his muscles straining with the effort.

"stop,” he rasped, barely able to get the word out. "you don’t know what you’re doing, or what you're asking for."

he's never felt quite like this before, breathless as if the air has been punched out of his lungs. all gojo could think was how much he wanted to pull you closer, to kiss you until there was nothing left between you.

but he couldn’t.

he puts his hands on your shoulders, fingers digging into the expensive fabric of your top, and gently pushes you away.

"my decision is final. don't make this harder than this, you're forbidden from the mission."

how sick and twisted, that you've fled with embarrassed tears pricking at your eyes, and he's stuck with a raging erection.

well, he had seen worse. but it didn't make this curse any less vicious. it was ancient, he could presume, and maddening. its cursed energy was warping the night air like a violent storm. but again, not the worst thing that he had encountered in his twenty-eight years, and with the right timing, he'd been able to calculate every strike and counter.

but then he saw you.

at first, he thought it was a blur — a trick of the light. but then, there you were, standing at the edge of the pavement, your figure framed by the chaotic crackle of cursed energy. fuck your stubborn nature.

this is not what is meant to happen. gojo's heart has skipped a beat, and he's not sure what he's more furious with. you, for defying his concern for your safety. or himself, for getting so distracted in. a battle.

"what the fuck is wrong with you?"

yes, he knows you're good. good enough to move with precision against a special-grade curse, your stance instantly and suspiciously better than the other day in the training rooms. it's only through his six eyes that gojo has been able to keep a track of your movements as your jujutsu is able to dodge the creature's brutal force.

impressive. but reckless.

and that never lasts.

you had moved to cast your own cursed technique, but the curse was intelligent enough to anticipate it. with a sudden lash of its tail, the creature swung its power straight at you, knocking you off balance. you stumbled, your footing lost, and before you could react, a flash of dark energy slicing across your shoulder.

a scream had torn from your lips as you fell to the ground, blood spurting from the deep cut.

and briefly, just for a flicker of time, gojo sees a dark-haired man in violet robes leaning against a brick wall, with his shoulder torn off, 'at least curse me one last time.'

blood rushing in his ears, before he even realised it, he was on top of you, his body hovering over yours, his jujutsu flaring as he shoved the cursed spirit back with a brutal force that made the earth tremble, an exorcism that will not take long. he kneeled beside you, his breath ragged, eyes locked on the wound on your shoulder. the blood was already soaking your clothes, darkening the fabric as you winced, your breath shallow and unsteady.

"you —” gojo isn't sure if his hand isn't shaking from how irate he is, "what the hell were you thinking? fuck, don't move."

your eyes were unfocused for a moment, but when they snapped to him, there was defiance there — even in this moment (get a grip!), as you gritted your teeth against the pain.

"save it, it's fine," you spat, your voice weak but vexed, "that bitch is still there."

"what did i tell you! what did i say would happen?" he cursed under his breath, focusing his reversed cursed technique as he tried to heal you, but the moment felt like an eternity as bright red blood moved too fast for him to seize it.

an assassin's blade in his throat, his arteries giving way and bubbling out and up.

now you don't answer, your eyes fluttering closed for a brief second. gojo's gaze darted to the cursed spirit, which was now advancing again, enraged by the interruption.

it won’t touch you again.

he stood, pulling you away from him, your body slumping slightly out of his arms. he could feel the heat of your blood soaking through his sleeve, but he had no time to dwell on it. the curse roared in fury, and gojo's infinity flared up around him again, a shield of pure energy blocking its path.

"stay down,” he growled, and all he received was a weak, "fuck, you think that's funny?"

it's only later when he's pulling you back up, that he realises that his reversed cursed energy has done enough to stem the bleeding, but not enough to leave you unharmed as your breath is shallow, your face taking on a more sickly pallor.

"don’t you ever — ever —do that again," he snarled, his voice raw and he wonders when something (or someone) has ever undone him so much. but the anger in his voice doesn't carry to his touch as he gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek, tracing the lines of your jaw.

the sterile walls of your room did nothing to soften the tension in gojo's chest as he stood by your bed, his eyes tracing the curve of your sullen form beneath the sheets. your shoulder was bandaged, with red seeping slowly through the white strips.

"you really are unbelievable," he snapped, his voice sharp as he paced around the room, every step heavy with frustration. "i told you it was too dangerous. i told you not to fucking go."

you lay there, your eyes half-closed, as though you weren’t even listening, but the twitching frown on your lips is sign enough that you're not as sorry. his fingers flexed at his sides, itching to do something — anything — to release the tension building in him.

"are you even listening to me?" he know he sounds bitter, over-reactionary, angry as he moved towards the edge of your bed.

you blinked slowly, your gaze still infuriatingly calm, "i'm fine, now. save the lecture."

he doesn't want to start sputtering so he settles for crossing his arms over his chest, but your voice breaks the silence again.

"you know i want to be a special grade sorcerer, right?"

gojo only looks down, not wanting to indulge an excuse and he studies the tight grip of his knuckles on his slender fingers, "well, i don't know why. the pay isn't that good." it's a weak attempt at a joke, but you're smiling.

"i was told i could only become one if i was the one to exorcise that special grade."

"by who? the higher-ups?" and you nod, wincing as you do.

what a fucking surprise. the way that the jujutsu world works is no surprise to gojo by now, having been surrounded by it his entire life. but the harshness of their reality still shocks him, old and doddering officials who cling to their silk robes are prone to sending out younger sorcerers (those who are still green, barely out of school) to do their dirty work for them, and the cemetery outside of jujutsu tech is ever growing.

he ground his teeth together, his chest tightening as he stared down at you. the bandages, the damp skin, the stillness of your body — it made him want to tear something apart. "fine! if they were giving you a hard time, why didn't you just come to me then?" he repeated harshly.

"would you go ask someone to help you, for something like this? if you were asked to prove yourself?"

gojo runs his tongue behind his teeth, "i'm the strongest, princess. i don't need to ask for help."

you groan, turning your head away from him, but a faint smile dances upon your lips.

he inhales sharply, his fingers digging into the edge of the bed. "you think this is a joke?"

"all four limbs are attached and i'm living and breathing. okay, so fine. my bad. i won't do it again. will you stop snapping at me now, at everything -" and gojo wonders if there's really some hurt colouring your voice, "what's going on?"

the words slip out, rough and unrestrained. "what’s going on is that you’re driving me insane. you act like this doesn’t matter, like i can just stand by and let you throw yourself into danger like it’s nothing — like you don’t matter — but you do. you do matter."

his chest was heaving now, his hands shaking as he reached out and grabbed your wrist. his thumb brushed over your pulse, the tiny fluttering beneath your skin driving him wild. "i can’t — i can’t just stand there and watch you get hurt," he continued, his voice hoarse. "you don’t get to do whatever you want without consequences, damn it. you don’t get to make me feel this way, and then pretend like it doesn’t matter."

for a moment, there was silence. gojo's pulse was hammering in his ears, his body coiled with the intensity of everything he was trying to say. everything he was trying not to say. everything he wanted to act upon.

and then, with a slow, almost lazy smile, you turned towards him, "i didn't know the great gojo satoru was like this. who would have thought?"

his breath hitched in his throat. gojo wanted to say something, to snap at you again, to maintain that distance — but the truth was that the distance between the two of you had disappeared these past few weeks. his chest tightened, his hands trembling as they slid to your face, fingers tracing the line of your jaw, and he relished how your facade almost cracked and you lightly shivered.

at least, he hoped you were shivering because of his touch. and not, like, a fever building up from your injuries.

fuck it.

and then, before he could stop himself, gojo was leaning down, his lips crashing into yours with all the force he could muster, desparate and hungry and that frustration and fear that he had been holding onto. his hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you towards him with a force that made your breath catch, as you responded with a soft gasp.

had he misstepped? no, for you kissed him back, tentatively at first, as if you were testing the waters, but then building up to a sudden urgency that mirrored his own. your hands slid to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you pushed yourself closer to him, before crying out.

"ah! fuck, my shoulder."

small beads of blood surfaced where your collarbone met your shoulder, each one glistening like tiny rubies against your warm skin. they gathered slowly, delicate droplets that clung to you before tracing faint, uneven lines downward. the red stood out, vivid and fresh, dotting your skin in a stark, almost mesmorising gojo as they welled up and began to trick in thin, crimson trails.

"stay still," gojo rasped, his voice low and rough as he leaned in, pressing closer. his mouth met the fresh blood pooling on your skin, tongue tracing over the small rivulets that had seeped from beneath the bandage.

he lingered, almost savouring the taste, his eyes darkening as the sharp tang of iron lingered on his tongue, smacking his lips slightly as he drew back, gaze fixed intently on you, on your heavy breathing as he stole away another kiss from you.

gojo's lips left yours briefly, his breath ragged as he stared down at you, his eyes wild underneath the blindfold, gasping as your nails reached up to hook the fabric down so his hair loosened, falling around his face.

you were staring back at him, breathless and wide-eyed, and in that moment, gojo knew — he couldn’t stay away from you. no matter how much he tried.

your lips were soft, so soft, but there was fire behind the way you kissed him back, your hands landing on his chest, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. he groaned, deep in his throat, and his fingers threaded into your hair, pulling you closer.

his mouth moved urgently over yours as he shifted to stand beside the bed, his body hovering over you, every muscle tense, straining with the desire that he had tried so hard to ignore. gojo just couldn't think about anything else.

and your lips broke apart only briefly, and you let out a soft laugh, that damn, dangerous laugh of yours. "you're greedy, you know that."

his chest heaved, and his heart pounded in his ears, and blood was now pounding to his nether regions. he wasn’t sure if it was the previous anger or the ache between his ribs, but he couldn’t stop himself as he threaded his fingers through your soft hair, "i am greedy. greedy for you. only you - mmph! shit!"

you had run your long, painted nails (with the little painted charms on the end) down his neck before pressing them, hard enough to cause a sharp sting.

"you wanted to put me through hell," he whispered harshly, and his lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, "until i realised i liked it. until i realised i wanted you, all of you."

his hands moved down to your waist, squeezing gently as his lips found the tender spot beneath your ear, trailing kisses there, letting his teeth sink in, to see small bruises appear. gojo's breath was ragged as he fought to keep control, and something deeper inside of him roared with the need to claim you completely.

"you’re mine," he growled against your skin, the words hot and possessive. "i don't care what happens. you’re mine now."

you tilted your head, still smiling, but this time there was something different in your eyes — something that burned with the same intensity. "if i'm yours, what are you going to do about it? hmm, satoru?"

and that final thread, that last remnant of honour that he had been nurturing and holding onto, snapped.

"is this what you want, princess?" he draws out the nickname, letting it roll off his tongue, as you suddenly inhale sharply. his hands are all over you now, large hands exploring and kneading at your torso, and before he can even let you blink, they're under your top.

he's pressing his hot mouth to your sternum, wet and open-mouthed, and he wonders what sort of effect you have on him. what force in the world leave him panting like this, desparate as his hands find their way behind your back, to unclip whatever's holding your tits in place — just so he can reach back and run his palms over your hard nipples, flicking them and rolling them in between his fingers.

and faintly, in the back of his mind, he's aware that his reversed cursed technique must be working overtime, because suddenly you're rolling forward into him with no care in the world for your previously injured shoulder, as your own hands trail down the front of body, right over his bulge.

but he slaps your hand away, pressing you flat against the mattress, "fuck, not yet. you think i'm just going to let you get away with all this," and as you mewl a soft yes, followed by a please, he rolls his eyes, "wait. behave and i'll give you what you want."

and then, softer, "need to make sure you're ready first."

his arms are caging both sides of your head, and he's got one hand on the headboard (although, you will marvel at the burnt imprint that he's left, later) and the other is tearing your top off, just so he can lean down and let his canines press into the soft fat of your chest, so he can slip a pointed nipple into his mouth and tug it, ever so gently.

but gojo needs to continue lower, and his hand squeezes at the waistband of your short skirt, snapping the elastic twice as you heave your bare chest, "please, please, satoru!"

it's heaven down here for him, and gojo's dizzy at how outstandingly wet you are, with just a single swipe of his fingers in the soft, damp fabric of your underwear.

your clear, sticky arousal clung to his fingers, stretching in thin, glistening threads as he spread your thighs apart, knocking your knees to either side so he could slot himself in between them. your slick shimmered slightly under the light, translucent and tacky and he just couldn't help himself, bringing them up to his mouth to slowly taste.

"shit, princess. you taste so good, can't believe this is what i've been missing out on."

he's playing an instrument, he thinks. gliding his fingers along sodden folds, twirling his index finger past a thick wad of skin and pressing right over your clit in hot, tight circles that have you bucking your hips, "hnngh, right - ah, right there 'toru!"

'toru.

as a reward, he plunges his middle finger straight into your gaping heat, your tight wall of ringed muscles that had been fluttering in light pulses for his attention. fuck, he almost reaches his own climax by feeling how you squirm and writhe, moan and mewl as he starts pushing his finger in, and then out.

in, and then out. in, once more. and out, again. and then, another finger.

his fingers sank into your soft, damp pussy — which yielded easily enough with a soft pssh! as the digits pressed in. gojo pulled his hand back out from your thighs, enjoying the tight resistance and suction as your cunt has resisted being empty once more, leaving a cool moistness on his skin.

but now your hands gently cup his face, and he isn't sure how to not crumble with how you look at him, eyes wide and glossy, "wan' more, want your cock, 'toru."

now, gojo feels as though he's truly ascended, gone onto some higher plane of existence. because how can he resist when your hands are weakly pawing at his belt, at his waistband and he's letting you pull his thick shaft out.

it's hot, and already weeping angry tears of pre-cum, and he just loves how your eyes widen at the sheer size and girth.

"yeah, princess was sooo brave earlier, wasn't she? wanted my cock, ah! shit - did she?" and he's letting the wide tip lay heavy against your clit, knocking it once, and then twice, through your heavenly folds.

you've reached a leg up, and around his waist, pulling him closer and gojo has to pierce his lip with his teeth to not let out a gutteral groan from his cock sliding through the your folds, "i don't - don't care, i really don't fucking care if it's too big. just put it in now, m' so wet, i'm wet enough."

your babble is endearing, and he marvels at how easily he has you cock-drunk without even being in you right now. he jostles further, until the tip is right at your flittering entrance, pressing forward and slipping through the heated, slick gummy texture in a way that has the strongest's head spinning.

"easy, princess. oh fuck, you're too tight. way too tight, i'm gonna -" and gojo inhales, steadying himself, as the wet heat enveloped him as he moved, each slide through the soft walls of your pussy leaving him acutely aware of every inch, the warmth coating him further until your slick was dampening the white, stray hairs of his groin.

he pulls your lips close again, one hand coming up to gently cradle your head, and his fingers weaving slowly through your hair.

"you're so deep in me, 'toru! so - hnngh," and your words are cut off by a staccato thrust of his hips, and your teeth clack around a moan that gojo gladly swallows.

"hey, i'm right here. i've got you, yeah? got you so good, just hold onto me."

and he keeps a steady pace, plunging into molten silk, with a sensation so intense and so enveloping that it left him breathless, with a rush of heat that made his head spin.

he's toying with your tits, pressing his face into the shadow that lies between your mounds, and gojo's certain that he could die a happy man like this, exactly like this.

he realises that the faint laugh is coming from him, so distant is he in his pussy-drunk reverie, that he realises he must look and sound like a madman, "pretty pussy is so tight, so fucking tight. haah, i think i'm gonna have to fill you up, gorgeous?" and he must be blathering, "want me to fill you up? shit- want me to stuff... ah! stuff you so full of cum that we just hafta stay in this bed all day then?"

he had his fingers now moving in circles over your throbbing clit, exerting a gentle pressure that had you so beautifully keening and bucking your hips up, jolting right into his pelvis. and gojo bit back as a groan as his heavy balls started to smack, and smack! over and over again, right onto your dampened skin.

"she must be close right, pretty little pussy must be almost tired now," and gojo's now slapping your clit, lifting three fingers up and bringing them down with enough force to not harm you, but make you jolt, "she. must. be. so. close." and each word is punctuated by the slippery spank of his fingers bouncing right off your mound.

"makes me want to have you - you and her," and gojo's revelling in the slick of your pussy, now throwing his head back without shame.

and when your walls start to flutter, when you start writhing in his grasp, pressed right against his chest with your legs knocked back as far as they reach on other side of his broad frame, he feels himself unravel. feels the rhythmic quake of your tight cunt literally milk him dry, letting pools of thick, white seed plug within you, and he almost shakes and tears up himself, at the idea of claiming you like this.

later, he has you resting against his chest and the knot in his chest, that nasty plague that sent him afoul has disappeared, and gojo feels as though he's about to start purring, from the feeling of your nails trailing little shapes over his skin (little hearts, perhaps?) and how soft your hair feels under his own hands. he can't resist himself from pressing his lips softly to your forehead, "happy?"

you laugh, a genuine, soft sound that erupts from your chest as you press your bare body into him, "you have no idea."

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sortagaysortahigh · 1 month ago

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Nobody Gets Me | Joaquin Torres

A/N: Heyyyyy sexies...so don't be mad but I'm in my angst bag, this is giving Hurt/no comfort and I'm not sorry! I've been in my emo era so EVERYONE SHOULD SUFFER TOO!!! ugh anyways, i might do a pt 2 with a happy ending eventually, but I present: Divorced exes to something hopeful?? HURT!! WOOO HOO! Also, I did give Joaquin a sister for this universe specifically (hopefully i continue it </3) Everyone say thank you to @love-chx for beta-ing this and apologize to her for not having a happy ending <3

Summary: Getting married young had it's risks, unfortunately for you and Joaquin, that marriage didn't work out, it's been years since you've been in contact, so why do your hearts still ache?

Warnings: Hurt/no comfort NO HAPPY ENDING!, OOC joaquin (he's mean, jealous, exhausted fr), the Blip </3, john walker jump scare!, SAM BUCKY SUPREMACY!, heartbreak, angst, failed relationships, divorce, mentions of joaquin's accident, spelling and grammar errors (we all know who I am atp), a lot of crying, mentions of loss of virginity, mentions of sex (no smut/sex depicted). dual perspectives? switching b/w joaquin and reader??? idk im sorry if its all over the place

Word Count: 10.4k (of sadness)

Joaquin Torres x Fem!Reader (THEY'RE DIVORCED GOD DAMNIT! Reader also has long-ish hair/hair long enough to braid with 2 white stripes by her ears (this holds a future plot purpose </3)

Joaquin baby I'm so sorry for the angst i put you thru in this but maybe next time, do better! </3

Joaquin Torres is amazing at his job, he easily worked his way up in rank during his time in the Air Force, as a Lieutenant he met Sam Wilson, who he would eventually work very closely with and even consider family. It was a no-brainer when Joaquin had become a Captain, and while working side-by-side with Captain America, he was also able to take on the mantle of the Falcon.

He poured his all into his job, and from the outside looking in, he loved every second of every day. Joaquin was always positive, always putting on a happy face, always committed to making sure everything was going smoothly and that everyone was alright at all times.

He truly was a hero in every sense of the word—at least to the public.

After his accident in the Indian Ocean near Celestial Island, he’d spent months in physical therapy and rehab, pushing himself past his limits, working harder and harder with the end-goal of getting back into the sky.

It was accomplished after one year and three months.

One year of long days and even longer nights. A year and three months of being on the ground and being reminded of everything he’d swallowed down, all of the pain, all of the hurt, he did his best to ignore the ache and emptiness in his heart. But when he couldn’t drown himself in work and distract himself with the literal thrill of the skies, all of that bottled up emotion was bound to overflow.

That’s also around the time that he resorted to one night stands. He’d always hated one night stands, not because he didn’t enjoy the sex, but because sex without a genuine emotional connection was never enough for him. If anything, the random hookups had him spiralling even more.

His physical therapist had also told him several times that he shouldn’t have been partaking in any ‘strenuous activity’ which happened to include sex—or at least the kind of frustration fueled sex he was having.

She’d eventually referred him to an actual therapist, who he avoided like the plague, purposefully missing meetings every other week to force the therapist to schedule him bi-weekly. Opening up to a complete stranger was hard enough, but having to provide a co-pay to be questioned about his lackluster decision making and emotional trauma was a lot on him.

Especially after the incident in the ocean.

The therapist had recommended he spend more time with his friends, which he did for a while, and it worked the first few months. Catching up with friends on and off base, but traveling back home to Miami was what had sent him into a downward spiral in the fourth month of his recovery.

Joaquin Torres has always been a family man, he spent his childhood telling his abuela about how excited he was to grow up one day, get a beautiful wife, and have his own little family. As a teenager, he admittedly did have two pregnancy scares with his then girlfriends, except each time he was fully committed to being a father, even at sixteen.

He didn’t exactly love his exes, but he loved the idea of being a father, and he knew that one day, he would be. At seventeen Joaquin had only hoped he’d be married and not screwing anything on legs before having a kid.

The day he’d flown back to Miami he expected his sister to pick him up from the airport. It wasn’t a shock to see Ximena there, clearly on the phone with someone, however when he heard his ex-wife’s name slip past her lips, he was overcome with a sense of nausea that he hadn’t felt since the day in court when his divorce had been finalized.

Joaquin Torres hated telling people that he was divorced, being a divorcee at the age of twenty-nine wasn’t exactly the biggest green flag in the world. Nor was it something he was proud of. It’d been three years since the divorce was finalized, three years that he’d been drowning himself in work and a faux sense of positivity to ignore the rage and hurt he felt deep down.

She’d muttered a series of apologies for being there, stating that her husband couldn’t make it, before mumbling some excuse to Joaquin while simultaneously hanging up the phone.

He couldn’t be mad at his sister, not for having a best friend, even if that best friend was his ex-wife.

You and Ximena Torres met in the fourth grade, quickly bonding over a shared love of seashells. That bond quickly spiraled into running around the playground hand-in-hand while scaring the fifth grade boys—one of which being her older brother Joaquin.

The two of you hadn’t gotten along until your sophomore year of high school, when your then-boyfriend cheated on you and left you sobbing under the bleachers as if it was the end of the world. (To your fifteen year old self, it was the end of the world). Ximena was comforting you, and eventually, she managed to convince Joaquin and his friends to ‘go scare’ your ex-boyfriend and the group of guys he hung around with.

Joaquin was on the soccer team at that point, and he also knew several of the football players as they all did winter track and field together, so the fist fight that broke out two days later was a no-brainer.

The day you’d stormed into his house, quickly greeting his Abuela before rushing up to his room, slamming the door open and kicking his then-girlfriend out before cursing him out for thirty minutes while ranting about how ‘wildly wrong’ it was to ‘organize a fucking royal rumble’—your words not his—had marked the beginning of your friendship.

That friendship would later develop into something else when you complained about lacking a date to your senior prom. He’d been home from bootcamp and had a month before getting deployed overseas, so he simply shrugged and said he would take you.

Prom night Joaquin had taken your virginity, or rather, you’d given it to him on a silver platter.

From there, things just flowed naturally. He’d taken you on a few dates the month before deployment. During his first eight month deployment you’d written to him constantly, and those letters, plus photos, and occasional phone calls, gave him something to look forward to when he got back home.

He left for deployment in June, then came back in January of the following year. He was actually stationed in Florida, closer to Florida State University where you went to college. Although he hated FSU on the principle that he would always be a Miami fan, he had no issue in visiting you on campus. The both of you were casual for the latter half of your freshman year.

Then that summer he asked you to be his girlfriend, ‘in the official sense’—his exact words being ‘well, we’re always together, and I really like you, and you really like me, so will you be my girlfriend in the official sense because you’re already my non-official girlfriend’.

At that point he was twenty and you were around nineteen. The both of you dated consistently for two years before he proposed to you the week before Christmas on the beach. You’d obviously said yes, squealing in excitement as he slid the ring on your left finger.

The wedding happened four months later, it wasn’t anything major, something small on a private beach, but at the time, in 2016, it was the best day of both of your lives.

The following two years were amazing, at least until the Blip happened and Thanos had managed to snap half of the universe’s population away. Joaquin was lucky that he and his wife hadn’t disappeared off of the face of the Earth. But life got harder much faster than expected.

Work was difficult, the sense of impending doom never really disappeared, not when dread was so common amongst global leaders. There were a few positives of the Blip—well, positives if you ignore the long lasting repercussions after the Avengers had reversed the Blip. Homelessness had found some sense of a ‘cure’, politicians using the available resources to make themselves look better, and to finally do something about the hundreds of thousands of people living on the streets and starving worldwide.

The first year of the Blip, things weren’t horrible. Not between you and Joaquin, or on a global scale. The sudden surge of resources did have some positive outcomes, however, the resources also led to a growth in greed. The greed led to a downward spiral on a global scale.

Sure, the global economy might’ve been great from a corporation-based standpoint, but day-to-day life for regular people wasn't.

Job hours got longer, the price of items did increase, inflation was actually an unpredicted issue for a lot of nations, then of course was the need to expand and grow militaries to account for the loss in actual soldiers and enlistments. That directly impacted you and Joaquin, to the point that you had to uproot your life in Florida and move to the West Coast.

Prior to the Blip, Joaquin had been deployed two additional times, one before you were married for six months, and a second for eight months the year after you’d gotten married. Both deployments were overseas, and each time he’d come home, he wouldn’t leave your side for days.

Following the Blip, Joaquin was never home, or never at the house that you’d purchased off base in California. It wasn’t a bad house per-say, it just wasn’t home. It lacked any real warmth, and it felt like it was draining you. It was difficult to find work as a journalist and publicist, not because there wasn’t anything to be done, but because you freelanced, and during the Blip, major news outlets and magazines weren’t looking for freelance writers.

That also led you to working on base, which should’ve brought you and Joaquin closer together, but it did the exact opposite. Especially when he’d see other Lieutenants flirting with the ‘pretty new media relations’ girl, you usually smiled and laughed it off, doing your best to keep your job.

However, Joaquin Torres was the jealous type, and when you’d both get in fights at home about it, he’d constantly say that you were flirting, that you were feeding into it, as if you had asked for men to flirt with you during your day job.

His job was beyond stressful, which also led to him always being irritable, that combined with the grief that both of you were feeling over the loss of family and friends following the snap.

You and him both were shells of who you once were before the Blip.

The blip had lasted five years, your marriage was over by the third. It wasn’t until the Blip was reversed that you’d both finished fighting one another in court.

Prior to that, you’d been sleeping in different rooms, and acted more like roommates that tolerated one another rather than husband and wife.

Once the divorce was finalized, Joaquin stayed in California while you went home to Miami. He hadn’t heard from you since, and he had no idea where you actually had been, considering you were never big on social media, and now it was like you were nothing but a ghost from his past.

He did his best to ignore the nausea in his stomach after hearing your name, it wasn’t just your first name, no it was your full name, as if you’d said something so outrageous that Ximena was yelling at you over the phone while laughing.

Joaquin knew you were still friends with his sister. He’d never hold that against you, but it did hurt.

During his time in Miami, he did his best to ignore his intrusive thoughts, telling him to call you, or to reach out to your family, or to figure out where the hell you’d actually gone, or who you were now. It’d been three years, three years since he’d seen you, three years since he’d heard your real actual voice, not just the recordings and videos on his phone and laptop.

With his skillset, he knew he could’ve found you, but you didn’t want to be found, that much was clear to him.

Whenever people would ask about you, he’d just laugh it off, shrug, and force a smile. He was so used to being positive all the time that he easily slipped into that persona, most people had never seen him irritated, and he liked it that way.

Then he ran into your mother at the grocery store, she pulled him into a hug with a wide smile and started talking his ear off, asking how he was, congratulating him on becoming a ‘real superhero!’, then she’d gone on a tangent about you. That’s how he found out you were in Washington D.C. working directly under James Buchanan Barnes.

The same James Buchanan Barnes that Sam Wilson was best friends with, and the same person that he’d assisted in taking down the Flagsmashers. He’d seen Bucky several times over the past few years, and never, not once, did he see you.

So he knew you were avoiding him. It wasn’t just a weird sense of paranoia, no, Joaquin knew you. He knew you like the back of his hand, he knew the best parts of you and the worst, and he was absolutely positively sure that you’d been avoiding him.

He also knew that both Sam and Bucky most likely had no knowledge of you being his ex-wife, or even of Joaquin himself being married at one point. It was more likely than Bucky knew, mostly because getting the level of security clearances needed to work for a Congressman required several in-depth background checks.

Joaquin feigned happiness as your mother spoke to him, and as soon as he could, he got the hell out of there.

Slowly, but surely, his composure cracked. He wasn’t the happy-go-lucky guy anymore with nothing but optimism. The thread of pessimism within him was unraveling, and he found himself slipping into a never-ending anger.

He used that anger to push through the next few months of his recovery once he was back in Washington. He went on a strict diet, stuck to his training plans, and started pushing himself even more, striving to go back to being the Falcon, to find some sense of purpose, and something to drown himself in.

The only vice he truly had was the lackluster one night stands. It was never enjoyable, but he needed to let off some steam, so he’d go to some of the bars in D.C., flirt a little bit, and go back to someone’s place with them, slipping out in the early hours of the morning without a word. It worked for him, or at least, he told himself it worked for him.

He also told himself he wasn’t going for women that reminded him of you—which was a definitive lie.

Eventually, once he was back in the sky, back running drills, back working on his flips, kicks, and spins he stopped with the unhealthy coping habits. He’d even gotten a new suit from the Wakandans, a gift from M’baku himself after Sam had told him about Joaquin’s accident. The suit was carbon black, had some green detailing, and it was constructed from vibranium, the same vibranium that absorbed kinetic energy and released it.

Joaquin had never felt more unstoppable with the mantle and new suit.

But with the whole ‘New Avengers’ fiasco occurring in New York, Sam had been stressed, and he’d been doing his best to work with Bucky, trying to find some kind of work-around to the ever-present legal issues associated with there being two Avengers groups.

When he got the call that they were headed to the renovated Avengers compound in Manhattan, part of him was excited to finally see the place, but the other part of him was dreading the possibility of seeing his ex-wife. He didn’t know if she still worked for Bucky, and he never bothered to ask, he hadn’t even brought it up again after speaking with your mother.

He was tense on the flight to New York, and when Sam tried to pry it out of him, he lied about having a stomach bug.

By the time that Joaquin and Sam had arrived at the tower, it was nearly seven and the sun was setting. Admittedly, the place was nice, a bit too modern for him, but nice either way.

He followed Sam’s lead, mostly because he had no idea how to navigate the tower and getting lost wasn’t exactly something he wanted to do. But the second the elevator doors opened, he heard your laughter, a series of loud, high pitched, wheezy laughs and giggles that he’d fallen in love with a lifetime ago.

Sam’s brows knit together as he looked at Joaquin, then he looked around the elevator and into the large common space. “You alright kid?”

Joaquin blinked a few times, nodding his head, snapping out of his daze as he looked at Sam. “Uh-uh yeah sorry, I just, zoned out—nothing to worry about. Anyways, where's Bucky?” he was talking too fast, the composure he’d worked so hard on building up easily crumbled. Then he heard your laugh again followed by ‘Wait! Stop—put me down Parker!’.

He must’ve been on fire, that would explain the heat raging throughout his body.

Sam shrugged him off, motioning for Joaquin to follow him as he made his way towards the commotion, Bucky easily spotting them, standing from his front row seat to your ‘fight’ with Peter.

Joaquin quickly followed, jaw clenched as he finally spotted you. You looked so different while also looking just like yourself. Your hair was longer now, pulled into two thick braids trailing from the top of your head, down your back. It also had two large white streaks near your ears, which was different—but then again, Joaquin had been shaving his face religiously because the thought of your compliments on it left a sour taste in his mouth.

He noticed the way you smiled, wide and full of life. A look he hadn’t seen in so long, a look he missed desperately, every single day.

When Peter Parker finally put you down, you laughed again, shaking your head as you sat up, still not noticing Joaquin’s presence. But Joaquin couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. It was clear that you’d been much happier and healthier, having put on some weight—but it wasn’t bad—the opposite really.

The last time he’d seen you, you were stressed, exhausted, and that reflected in your features and body. You’d never been super skinny, and he loved that about you—at one point he loved everything about you—but the years leading to your divorce, you’d dropped weight at an unhealthy pace from the long days and even longer nights.

His eyes traced your entire figure from top to bottom, noticing the small things you’d changed as well. The few new tattoos and piercings stuck out to him, the small gold rings on both sides of your nostrils, and the alligator tattoo on your leg were very apparent. Joaquin also tried to ignore the faded Air Force t-shirt you had on, it was clearly his, and he remembered the shirt well.

Then you finally turned and noticed him. Eyes widening at the sight of Joaquin, and he kept his eyes on you the entire time.

Everyone seemed to notice the shift in the room, well everyone except for Sam and Bucky who were too busy talking amongst one another about a few legal documents, and Sam throwing in several of his typical ‘anti-government’ remarks.

It was as if time was frozen.

You blinked a few times, eyes on Joaquin—your Joaquin.

The same man that you’d loved and hated at one point in your life, you weren’t even sure how you’d felt about him now, but you did know one thing, you had done your very best to avoid him at all costs. Sure, you knew one day it would probably bite you in the ass, but you hoped that was years from now.

Then again, you knew there was a risk when you’d taken the job as Bucky Barnes’s media relations secretary. This was your wheelhouse, you specialized in media relations and journalism, you would’ve been a complete idiot to decline the job.

But now, it was as if karma was coming to kick your ass.

You stared at him, unmoving as you processed seeing him again for the first time in almost four years. He looked different, more mature in a way that you hadn’t expected. He still had that boy-ish charm, but he looked older, stronger, and sturdier.

He still shaved his face, something you always told him to stop doing. Constantly telling him he looked good with facial hair, making sly comments and innuendos in public, giggling whenever he’d pull you into him, burying his face into your shoulder, covering any inch of exposed skin in gentle kisses as you laughed trying to shove him away.

But now he had a very visible burn scar along the right side of his neck, clearly stretching to his shoulder. You knew about his accident, and you’d been traveling with Bucky during that time, having sat in the waiting room while he spoke with Sam.

Part of you wanted to see him, desperately, but you couldn’t do it.

Bucky had asked you several times, stating that he ‘just wanted to make sure’, but each time you politely declined, shaking your head.

The Joaquin you were seeing now wasn’t your Joaquin, not anymore at least.

You knew something was off about him, his eyes weren’t as bright anymore. Then again, neither were yours. Heartbreak and grief had the tendency to suck the joy out of things.

“You alright Lightning?” you blinked a few times, registering Peter’s voice, nodding your head as you finally glanced back at him, then after clearing your throat, you gave everyone an awkward smile before muttering some half-assed excuses and making a beeline out of the room, towards the other set of doors, far from Joaquin.

He watched you leave, scoffing while shaking his head.

Everyone made their introductions, but Joaquin didn’t have it in him to keep up his faux positivity, giving everyone tight lipped smiles and head nods. Mentioning his name and rank a few times, forcing a laugh when Sam made a joke about being the ‘Falcon’. When Peter tried to talk to him about the mechanics of the new Falcon suit, Joaquin brushed him off.

Sure you two weren’t together anymore, but he had every right to be jealous. Even if Joaquin was just your ex-husband. Peter had a nickname for you! That was enough to piss Joaquin off and make him dislike the kid.

When John Walker tried to question the entire interaction prior to the introductions, Bucky shushed him, giving him a pointed look which was received with a small head nod, and a loud sigh. Followed by Yelena elbowing him.

It was clearly a touchy subject.

That night Joaquin couldn’t sleep.

Neither could you.

For the first time in years, you found yourself fishing your old phone and it’s charger out of the small lockbox below your bed, the box filled with some of your most prized mementos, photos of friends, family, birthday cards, small trinkets, a few necklaces, an old camera, the phone in hand, and most importantly, your engagement ring and wedding band.

It had taken a few minutes for the phone to turn on after connecting it to the charger. Then you sat on the floor, leaning against your bed in the darkness, eyes focused on the screen as you unlocked it—your old anniversary being the password.

Your bottom lip quivered as you opened the photos app, the most recent photo being of you and Joaquin at the zoo three months into the Blip, when you were still trying to find a sense of normalcy. Back when the both of you would still go on dates and try to cheer one another up, when you still fought the grief instead of wallowing in it.

He looked terrified while you had a wide smile on your face, three parrots on you, one perched in each hand and the other on the top of your head.

Then you started scrolling, eyes burning with unshed tears as you went through the photos, happy moments forever frozen in time. Moments you wish you could relive, just for a day.

Finally you found it, the wedding video. You turned your phone horizontally, playing the ten minute video, a perfectly edited version of your wedding ceremony and reception, with a few blooper pieces of your family members giving their commentary on the wedding. Ximena put it together for you and Joaquin.

You looked so happy as he held you in his arms, both of you laughing and smiling, embracing the newly-weds title.

The choked sob that slipped past your lips at the sight of your first dance unleashed the floodgates, you were full on sobbing now, watching the video with your knees to your chest, hand perched atop them.

Joaquin used to look at you as if you hung the moon and stars.

You remember that look, the look of unconditional love.

You might’ve had a crush on Joaquin in high school, but he was the one who fell the hardest. He was the first to say ‘I love you’ and the day he proposed to you, he couldn’t stop himself, it was such a candid moment. He had a whole day planned for it, but then you two had gone to the beach, and the sunset painted you like an angel sent from above, the second you’d turn around, squatting to pick up seashells, he knew it was time.

He’d tapped your shoulder that day, as if he was showing you a shell, then you turned around—laughing at the awkward movement while still squatting, then you practically fell backwards onto the sand at the sight of him on one knee with an open engagement ring box.

Ximena had a thing for dramatics, so at the end of your wedding video, she also added in the video of your proposal, which was shakily taken from his phone, propped up against his water bottle in the sand, the angle a little crooked, but it captured the moment nonetheless.

Three knocks on your door interrupted your sobbing sessions. You were quick to wipe your tears away, hoping you’d have enough time to tuck the phone away and climb into bed, pretending to be asleep.

But then Yelena opened the door with Bob at her side while you were trying to grab the box from below the bed, still on the floor. The two squinting into the darkness, letting their eyes adjust to the room with the helpful aid of the hall-way light streaming in.

Bob noticed you first.

“McQueen? Why’re you on the floor—wait, are you crying? Shit, Yelena she’s upset about something.”

You laughed at him, shaking your head as you finally looked over at them, tear stained cheeks, red eyes, and a quivering bottom lip. Not to mention your frizzy hair, and tear soaked sweater sleeves.

They easily entered the room, Yelena turning on your desk lamp as Bob shut the door behind him. Then Yelena was sliding onto the floor beside you, and Bob in front of the both of you.

The both of them were an oddly comforting duo, they were the best of friends, and honestly, after helping Bob start working through a lot of his issues, he had helpful input on most emotional situations. Plus, the fact that he cared was enough for you to let him in, and that went for Yelena as well.

Yelena noticed the phone, picking it up and looking at it, her brows knit together at the sight of the paused video, seeing a younger version of you in the arms of Joaquin Torres, smiles on your face while you flashed your wedding ring. Then she noticed that you were in a wedding dress, and he was in a full suit.

She squinted slightly, using two fingers to zoom into the paused video, eyes widening at the realization that the Air Force Captain she’d met today, was the same man in the video that you were very clearly marrying.

“We got married young. Like idiots. Then the Blip happened and I dunno, we just hated each other after a while, there wasn’t anything to fix. Then we went to court—spent almost a year going back and forth for the sake of arguing. Honestly, I only prolonged the divorce because fighting with him was better than not speaking to him.”

You sighed, now leaning your head on Yelena’s shoulder while the two listened and nodded.

“I don’t think it was idiotic to marry him if you loved him—did you?”

You blinked a few times, glancing at Bob, then down at your hands again. “I do—I did. He used to make me feel like nothing could ever go wrong. Then suddenly, the fantasy all came crashing down.” You sniffled a few times, shrugging.

He nodded, looking at Yelena who was swiping through the different photos and videos, then her eyes widened as she let out a loud gasp, throwing the phone to the side, where it now sat face-up, a video of you and Joaquin in a very intimate position on the screen.

Your eyes widened as you rushed to flip the phone. It wasn’t like a full blown sex tape, but you were half-naked on top of him.

“So I take it you had a healthy marriage at first? Based on that-” Yelena pointed to the phone. Then she finally broke, loud boisterous laughter filling the room. Her laugh was always contagious, and it led to the three of you laughing amongst each other.

They’d managed to cheer you up in minutes, and that reminded you of how lonely you’d felt before meeting them. How mundane life felt, how every single task was draining. It reminded you of how draining life really used to be, when you’d always feel so alone in a room full of people.

When you’d seek comfort in the one person that couldn’t provide it anymore.

“I really do love you guys.”

Yelena smiled, nodding her head. “I love you too, in a completely platonic way, don’t try to mount me the way you mounted him—wait what's his name again?” Her brows knit together as she thought hard to remember Joaquin’s name, but she was drawing a blank.

Bob finally stopped laughing, shaking his head. “Joaquin—I think? Yeah, that sounds right.”

You nodded. “Yeah, it’s Joaquin, Captain Joaquin Torres. Y’know when we were married he wasn’t a captain yet—” you stopped mid sentence, afraid of the potential word vomit or tears that might come out of this conversation.

On the opposite end of the tower Joaquin was pacing back and forth in one of the guest bedrooms. Not only was he angry, he was hurt, so hurt, in fact, that he’d spent thirty minutes crying silently in the shower, hoping the scalding hot water would numb some of the pain he was feeling.

It usually worked for physical pain, but emotional pain? It did little to nothing.

Seeing you was like opening Pandora's box. Joaquin always knew he was angry, angry at you yes, but he was angrier at himself. He’d never really forgiven himself for letting you slip through the cracks, for taking his frustrations out on you, for being overly jealous and never understanding, and for pushing you away. Constantly.

The Blip had taken a lot out of him, he was hurting, but so were you.

He forgot about that, about the pain that you’d been in.

Your mother was blipped, and she meant the world to you. Anytime you’d call your father, you’d lock yourself in the bedroom after, sobbing for hours, holding a pillow against your chest, trying to find some kind of comfort.

In the beginning, he’d slip into bed behind you, arms wrapped around your torso while you silently cried and mourned your mother. You were never really the blind hope type—he was. Joaquin had been there for you, there to comfort you, to bring you a sense of reassurance, and most importantly, to ground you.

His abuela had been blipped, he knew how it felt, the grief, but it wasn’t nearly as substantial as yours was. He loved his abuela, but he also knew she was an older woman who lived an entire life, and anytime they spoke, she’d always say ‘I love you Quino, if this is the last time we talk, just know i’ll always be there in spirit! Make sure you tell my princessa I love her too!’—or something along those lines.

He used to tell her not to talk like that, but his mother said it came from a place of love and of understanding. Every moment with someone was precious and needed to be valued, life was really too short to leave things unspoken.

So how he managed to leave so much? He didn’t understand.

He blamed himself for the divorce, Joaquin knew that he was pushing you away. Then you’d gotten that job on base, and at first he was excited to visit his pretty wife during lunch. But then his jealousy took over, jealousy mixed with pessimism and all of the negative emotions he’d been swallowing down started surfacing.

It wasn’t like you didn’t try. You were constantly talking to him, constantly checking on him, spending nights with your hands in his hair while you asked if he was alright, telling him you were always there to talk.

His job was stressing him out, he was under so much pressure, constantly. Tensions were rising at work, there were deadlines that needed to be met, tasks he didn’t have the time to do, and yet he still had to.

So he’d come home late, and he was bitter about it. Then you’d show up with a small smile on your tired face, mumbling something about making dinner, but he was tired, too tired to eat. He just wanted to sleep.

Some days he’d snap at you, and you were never one to sit and take it.

That’s when the fighting would start, and the screaming for hours on end. You two would go back and forth until eventually you’d slam a door in his face and tell him to sleep on the sofa.

Even now, as he paced back and forth, he remembers the sound of your muffled sobs, the way you’d cry after every fight. Then you’d pad out of the room in the middle of the night with a blanket for him, he’d pretend to be asleep as you covered him, kissing the top of his head, mumbling a rushed ‘I’m sorry’.

You always cared, you did your best.

He didn’t.

He stopped trying, and he knew that. He was just so tired, so angry, so jealous, so frustrated. The world didn’t stop spinning, tomorrow would always come, but he was so angry as he focused on each individual day, then he couldn’t find comfort in you anymore.

At one point, you were able to calm him down within seconds, you’d wrap your arms around him and tell him you loved him, then ask to talk. He’d melt against you, an entire breakdown of his day would follow. Sometimes you’d comment, other times you’d nod your head while he spoke.

But eventually, the hugs, kisses, and gentle gestures stopped. Even the sex didn’t solve anything. It was just another way for the both of you to let go of tension, then he was grabbing a pillow and leaving the room, going to the sofa, and eventually, to the guest bedroom that had turned into his personal bedroom.

What made things worse was that you were both so young when you’d gotten married, young and naive. In a world where alien invasions were common, jumping the gun on marriage wasn’t that irrational, not when you were truly in love with someone.

But sometimes love isn’t enough.

That’s what had truly broken Joaquin, the realization that love wasn’t enough.

Joaquin was twenty-six when the divorce was finalized, you were twenty-five.

When he was twenty-two people told him it was idiotic to get married that young, that it was a mistake. So many people doubted you and Joaquin’s marriage, and now, he had to admit that they were right.

He wanted to hate you, the last year of your marriage was the hardest. It was as if neither of you wanted to let go while simultaneously making one another’s lives a living hell. Buying a house together made it much harder to separate from one another, which also presented its own legal issues in terms of needing to be separated prior to divorcing one another.

Then there was the fact that you’d been married in Florida, seeking a divorce in California, while Joaquin was actively in the Air Force, and you also worked on base. It wasn’t like either of you would’ve been able to avoid one another, and truthfully, neither of you wanted to avoid each other.

The arguments and fights were never ending during that last month. Anytime he’d see you or you’d see him before a meeting with your attorneys, a screaming fest would start. Most of the fights had nothing to do with any divisions of assets, and you’d both already agreed to sell the house.

But Joaquin knew that he preferred fighting with you over never speaking to you.

The sound of his door slamming open caught his attention, his pacing stopped while he turned to look at the door.

Sam stood here with Bucky by his side, a singular brow raised as he shook his head, the two men inviting themselves into the room.

“So you mean to tell me, this entire time, you had an ex-wife? Kid, you were married?” Sam was loud as he spoke, shock evident in his tone as he entered the rooms, hands moving as he spoke. “I had to find out from Buck! Of all people!”

“Hey—what’s that supposed to mean!” Bucky sounded offended while he leaned against the door, arms crossed in front of his chest, shaking his head at Sam’s comment.

“It means, I’ve been working with the kid for almost four years—wait! When we first met, you’d barely been divorced? Is that why you were in Tunisia?! On some finding yourself through work journey?”

Joaquin was frozen in place, eyes wide as he looked from Sam to Bucky, then back to Sam. He didn’t know the best way to approach this situation. Sure, he knew that eventually he would’ve had to come clean to Sam about you, but that wasn’t ever a priority of his, mainly because he preferred to act as if nothing was ever wrong and swallow all of his feelings down.

“Yeah, when you introduced me to the kid, they’d only been divorced for around four months? I found that out from McQueen. Honestly, I’m surprised Joaquin held it in for so long, five drinks in and she was crying on my living room sofa.”

Bucky sounded so nonchalant as he spoke, which only irritated Joaquin. It made sense that you’d be spending time with him, he was your boss. But, you? Drinking with him? Then spending time at his place?

Joaquin’s jaw was clenched so tight he was afraid his teeth would crack.

“Buck, why were you drinking with her—you don’t drink often.” Sam paused, looking over at Bucky.

“I wasn’t drinking, we were at a fundraiser, y’know they’re boring as hell. People kept passing her drinks, she didn’t want to be rude when she was technically working, I told her to just chuck the drinks into some plants—then she started rambling about plants and their root health. Anyways, long story short, she’s an emotional drunk.”

Joaquin stifled a laugh, a sad smile on his face at the story.

You’d always been an emotional drunk, even as a teenager when you and Ximena would sneak into his mother’s liquor cabinet, sneaking out to drink in random parking lots or at the beach. Then someone would inevitably call him to pick you both up, he’d always feign reluctance, but he never had an issue getting the two of you, and whatever other friend was there.

That’s also one of the first times you’d kissed him. He remembers the day as if it was yesterday, you were a junior in high school, he was a senior, it was after the big homecoming game. You were clearly plastered, laughing and shrugging with Ximena, both of you practically falling over with wide smiles on your faces as you stumbled into Joaquin in the parking lot.

He lectured you both that night, Ximena had fallen asleep in the front seat, so you opted to help haul her out of the car with him, giggling as you backed into him a few times. Joaquin kept shushing you, and after you both managed to get his sister into the house, you smiled at him in the dimly lit hallway.

Then you kissed him. It was quick, as if the moment you realized your lips were on his, you were immediately reeling back. Apologizing while giggling, then you’d gone into Ximena’s room, waving at him before closing the door.

“Hey stop daydreaming over there! You’ve got some serious explaining to do!” Sam’s snapping caught Joaquin’s attention as he slowly nodded his head, acting as if he was listening—he very clearly was not.

“Start from the beginning, let’s hear it.”

Joaquin nodded at Bucky, letting out a deep sigh as he sat on the edge of his bed.

He’d spent the next two hours explaining everything to them both, from the start of your relationship, to getting engaged, then to the Blip, and of course, the end of it all. The divorce, the fights, the anger, all of it.

In a way, Joaquin felt like a weight was lifted off of his shoulders. He’d spent so long bottling everything up that it had just become normal to him.

“So you’re still in love with her and from what Bucky’s told me—she’s still in love with you. So what’s the issue here? Clearly you’ve both grown up, and Ray Charles once said, time heals a broken heart but time has clearly sat still while you two have been apart—”

Bucky cut him off, “I don’t think that’s how that saying goes, Sam.”

“You shut the hell up, I’m giving the kid some emotional motivation to win his woman back! Sure, they’re divorced, but they’re young and clearly stupid!—no offense Joaquin. It’s been years since they’ve seen each other! You’ve heard her side, Buck, now we’ve heard his! They’re in love!” Sam’s hands moved rapidly as he spoke, constantly motioning in Joaquin’s direction and the opposite direction, most likely where you metaphorically would be.

Bucky sighed, shrugging. “Okay, you’re right—” he turned to look at Joaquin. “I get you two went through a rough patch during the Blip, but I can guarantee, things’ll be better now. At the very least, you should try. Lightning McQueen’s not gonna reject you outright.”

Sam and Joaquin shared a confused look before Sam spoke up. “Why the hell is everyone calling her Lightning McQueen?”

Bucky shrugged. “She wears Lightning McQueen slippers around the tower, sometimes she’ll stop mid sentence and say ‘kachow’. At first I didn’t get it, then she forced me to watch the entire Cars franchise with her. She cried during the last two movies.”

Sam blinked a few times, meanwhile Joaquin couldn’t hold his laughter in.

“That’s one of her favorite movies, something about a coming of age story—I dunno, she’s loved it forever.”

Sam and Bucky looked at one another, then back at him, speaking at the same time, the mixture of “you’re both idiots” and “idiots in love” sounded a bit jumbled and confusing, but Joaquin got the point.

The next few days Joaquin’s only goal was to actually talk to you. It was easy in theory, there were only so many places that you could run off to. However, you knew the compound much better than he did, and anytime he finally caught sight of you, you were gone in seconds.

It was obvious you’d been avoiding him, and that was only irritating him more and more. He’d gone from being slightly hopeful that maybe you two could start over, to feeling himself slipping into that same pessimistic mindset he’d tried to swallow down and drown out with work.

He was hanging on by a thin thread.

That thread snapped the moment he walked into the lab in search of some data on a few samples of adamantium that was recovered near a small island neighboring the Celestial mass in the Indian Ocean.

He still had a job to do, even if he was also simultaneously trying to win his ex-wife back.

The moment Joaquin stepped foot into the lab, you were there, standing beside a large metal table where Bob was laying flat. Not only was the man laying down, he was fully shirtless and your hands were on his abdomen. From Joaquin’s angle he couldn’t see what you were doing, but he did hear your laughter.

Yelena leaned against one of the tables behind you, her arms crossed as she questioned your motions, pointing down at Bob where you’d been stitching him up, “If you go any slower, it’ll prolong the pain.”

You scoffed, glancing at her over your shoulder. “Well, if you hadn’t been sparring with knives, none of us would be here right now. This is the closest thing we have to a med bay, besides, if I go faster, I’ll fuck up the stiching and unfortunately for you, you don’t exactly have health insurance in the state of New York. Actually, I don’t think any of you do outside of Bucky and Walker.”

Bob winced slightly as you pulled the thread through his skin, teeth clenched, one hand over his eyes. “Why couldn’t I have a drink or something again? No offense Lightning, but this hurts.”

You sighed. “Remember your whole addictive personality thing? Sorry, but the best I can do is get Yelena to knock you out cold. But I think that would be another issue. Besides, aren't you supposed to be like a God or something? You’ll heal just fine! Don’t be such a baby!” Then you started laughing.

He groaned, wincing as he laughed as well, which made Yelena laugh too.

Joaquin finally walked into the lab, jaw clenched as he walked right past the three of you, his own metaphorical storm cloud following him. Except this time, you couldn’t run away from him, which he was grateful for, but he didn’t really feel like discussing your past relationship with people he hardly knew.

“Good afternoon to you too, Captain Torres!” Your eyes widened at Yelena’s words, fingers pressing a bit too harshly into Bob’s skin—earning a loud groan.

Joaquin scoffed, nodding his head to acknowledge Yelena while mumbling. “Yeah—afternoon.”

He found a more secluded area of the lab, but it still had a direct line-of-sight to you. So Joaquin sat, stewing in his own jealousy for thirty minutes while you stitched up some gash on Bob's side.

Then Yelena was helping Bob get back up, stating that she’d be back shortly, but once she was out of the lab, the lights dimmed, then flashed red for a few seconds, before settling on a blue-ish hue. That was followed by Yelena’s voice over the intercom. “Sorry Lightning! But you two need to talk it out, or sex it out, whichever you prefer! I’ll shut down the cameras! Oh and don’t try to do any other work, Peter’s shutting down the systems externally.”

Once she finished speaking, you were left in a tense silence as you cleaned up the area. The sounds of metal clinking, plastic shifting, spraying from the disinfectants, and the sounds of your frustrated sighing practically echoed in the room.

“Are you gonna say something to me? Or just be angry and clean the whole time. Not that I’m not used to that.”

You blinked a few times, pausing your motions before practically slamming the metal tray in your hands against the countertop as you slowly turned to face him. He was still several feet away, but now Joaquin was standing up, leaning against one of the larger free-standing countertops that you typically examined samples on.

“I have nothing to say to you Joaquin.”

He shook his head at that. “Well, I have everything to say to you Ms. Torres.” He noticed the way your eyes widened as he shook his head, then he ran his tongue along his top teeth. “Y’know what’s absolutely insane, that I had to find out from Bucky—your boss—that you hadn’t ever gone through with changing your name. So you’ve been walking around with my last name, while fucking whoever the hell you want.”

You scoffed at that, there it was, the jealousy. “Excuse me? I’m sorry that I didn’t feel the need to go through another extensive legal process to change my goddamn name, when I already made a name for myself with the last name Torres. And seriously? Fucking whoever I want? I’ve gone on dates—I’ve had sex with other people. Oh well! Do you want flowers and a fuckin handwritten apology? Like oh I’m so sorry Joaquin that I kept your last name after being married to you for five years! My bad!”

Joaquin let out a sardonic laugh, followed by a scoff before speaking again. “Well, if you hadn’t disappeared off of the face of the earth, maybe I wouldn’t care that much. It’s like the second we were over, you were gone!”

“What the hell was I supposed to do?! Stick around? Fight with you some more?! As if it was ever fucking enjoyable? I choose to leave, I’m not mad about it! I had to get the hell away from you, I had to remember who the hell I was—who I am! I didn’t even know who I was outside of being with you! So sorry if I choose to put myself first and go live my life Joaquin!”

Your voice got louder and louder as you spoke, chest rapidly rising and falling, feeling the waves of irritation and anger rolling through your entire body.

He shook his head. “Did you ever think that maybe—just maybe I didn’t want the divorce. That sure we could’ve used some space and time apart but that I still loved you?! Did you ever consider that! Or maybe I still love you! That I was never able to move on?!”

You paused, lips slightly parted, brows knit together at the confession.

Joaquin scoffed, rolling his eyes, leaning his head back slightly as he looked up, silently praying to whatever God truly existed, that this wasn’t a mistake. Then his eyes were back on you.

“There hasn’t been a single day that I haven’t thought about you. Every single worthless hookup I had, I thought about you, I purposefully went after women that reminded me of you just so I could fucking feel something—anything! But they were never you!”

He ran his hands through his hair. “I swallowed down every shitty emotion I’ve felt for years, drowning myself in even more work, I mean I guess it paid off-or at least it had paid off until I fucking crash landed into the Indian Ocean!”

Joaquin laughed again, sniffling slightly, doing his best to ignore the burning in his eyes “The worst part was, when I woke up from a week long coma, I was delirious and high on whatever the fuck they were giving me for the pain—and I asked for you. I asked every single nurse for you. I get it, you wanted to go off and live your life without me—but you didn’t call, you didn’t text. Hell, I even asked Ximena if you knew and she avoided the subject.”

You cut him off. “Shut the hell up Joaquin.”

He shook his head “No, I’m tired of holding this shit in, and if this is the only chance I’ll ever get to talk to you—then so be it! I waited for you, I waited in that goddamn hospital hoping and praying that maybe you’d show up with your sad smile and concerned eyes and tell me that I was an idiot and things would all be okay. But you didn’t, come to find out, you were there that day—the day they rushed me in.”

You shook your head, jaw clenched, eyes watering. “Joaquin, stop.”

Joaquin laughed again, shrugging. “Bucky told me you were there with him, that you hounded all of the nurses and the receptionists, but you never once went to see me. What? Hate me that bad you couldn’t even spare me five fucking minutes when I’m unconscious after nearly dying?!—”

“Jesus Christ! Shut the fuck up, Joaquin! You don’t know what you’re talking about. For once in your life, shut your big fucking mouth! I’m sorry I didn’t go—you think I didn’t wanna see you?! I was fucking terrified! Terrified that you were gonna die on that table when they were operating on you! I was sobbing the entire time, I was so afraid of losing you—”

You wiped your tears away, brows knit together, bottom lip quivering as you stared at him. “I’d already lost you once. I didn’t have it in me to lose you again. I couldn’t see you like that, I tried—I wanted to. I couldn’t do it. You don’t get to hold that against me—”

You pointed at him as you spoke. “You don’t have the fucking right to hold that against me.”

Joaquin blinked a few times, watching as your walls were crumbling. He knew you were still hurt, that much was obvious in the way you’d been avoiding him—but to know you were hurting like this?

It broke part of him, and for a second he felt like his nineteen year old self again on the night he’d taken your virginity. He remembered the way you tried not to cry, word vomiting your insecurities and vulnerabilities to him while the two of you sat in his childhood bedroom. Joaquin remembered the way you looked, the way you couldn’t meet his stare, the way you held the blanket to your body to shield yourself from him, even if you were still in your dress.

He knew you so well, he used to know exactly how to comfort you, exactly how to make your worries disappear.

Now he didn’t.

Now he was the cause of them.

“I loved you until the very end of our relationship. Don’t ever sit and act like I didn’t—like I don’t care about you. Joaquin, you were my first love, you meant everything to me. I married you when I was twenty-one like an idiot because I had so much faith and hope in our relationship—in our love. I know I was wrong to up and leave once the divorce was finalized, but I didn’t want to work through things just to be your friend. I could never in my life be your friend Joaquin—not when you knew everything about me—every single insecurity, every hope, every dream.”

You weren’t wiping the tears away anymore, a sad smile on your face as you looked down at your hands, then back to him.

“If I could do it all over again, I would. Just to get the chance to love you like that again. That’s why I left, because I knew if I stayed, I would’ve been right back with you—right back to wanting to hate you, knowing I never could and I couldn’t take it.”

He was at a loss for words, tears finally flowing along his cheeks while he looked at you. Joaquin finally processed how he’d broken your heart—broken you. He’d broken you down time and time again, letting his own insecurities, exhaustion, and pessimism get to him.

He’d hurt the one person he never wanted to hurt—you.

“Everyday I think about you. I think about how you’re doing, I wonder what Sam’s got you wrapped up in, I laugh at the stupid jokes you make during press releases and media statements as the Falcon. Hell, I even pray for you, which is crazy because I don’t even know if there’s even a higher power—but the faith that you’ll be okay each and every day is enough for me. I ask Ximena about you all the time. Whenever I go back to Miami, I make sure to go see your family.”

Joaquin was genuinely speechless. This entire time, he thought you just didn’t care. That you wanted as much distance between the both of you as possible. He’d been so angry for years, angry at you, and angrier at himself.

“I don’t think I’ll ever not love you Joaquin, and that in itself, is enough to make me avoid you. I don’t want what we had, I hated it. I hated every fight, I hated watching you leave after we had sex, I hated the sight of you sleeping on our sofa. I hated all of it. I know life was really hard at that point, I know I wasn’t the best wife or partner, but I tried. I tried everyday but you held everything against me, constantly.”

You sniffled, biting your bottom lip while trying to recollect yourself. The tears were flowing, and you couldn’t stop them.

“You were so mean, all the time. You weren’t the Joaquin I had fallen in love with, honestly, I know I was a shell of myself, but you—you were so much worse. You never let me back in—” a short sob slipped past your lips while you cried, looking down at the ground, taking a few deep breaths. “I wanted you to let me in again. I remember purposefully forgetting documents and prolonging our entire attorney experience, just so I could spend more time with you. Because I knew the second it was over, I was leaving.”

The silence was suffocating.

You were doing your best not to sob. Joaquin was processing everything—he’d never truly known how it all affected you. He’d never seen you sob at night, sure he knew you cried, but he didn’t see it, he didn’t notice how broken you truly were.

“I’m sorry.” Joaquin spoke softly “I’m so sorry—baby—I didn’t know. I just—I didn’t realize how bad things were until it was all over. And I was just so angry all the time, everything made me so mad. Then I’d see you, but everyone was always gravitating towards you, and it makes sense because you’re beautiful, funny and so intelligent, but it bothered me.”

He paused, now stepping closer to you, hesitating before gently caressing your face, angling it towards him, away from the ground. His thumbs softly wiping your tears away.

“I was so insecure and jealous and downright mean, and I’m sorry for putting you through hell. You meant the world to me—hell you still mean the world to me. I’ve been so angry this whole time, I thought I was mad at you, but I was mad at me. Mad that I’d fucked up so bad, mad that things hadn’t worked out, that I stopped trying.”

You leaned into his hand, teary eyes now looking into his.

“I’ve never stopped loving you. I want you to know that, even if nothing comes from it. I’ll always love you, there’s nobody in this universe that gets me the way you do, I know it’s been years, but I don’t think I’m ready to just let you go again.”

Joaquin’s vulnerability shocked you, not because you didn’t think he was capable, but because this Joaquin, this was your Joaquin. This is the man that you’d fallen in love with.

“I never wanted you to let me go, Joaquin.”

He’d been the one to suggest the divorce, and it had taken a few months of fights before you’d actually considered it.

By that point, Joaquin was rarely sleeping with you, and the only time the two of you weren’t fighting was when you were both on base at work. Outside of that, the fights and arguments were constant, an unrelenting cycle, and you had finally hit your breaking point.

The last major fight before the divorce ended in you screaming at him before tossing a large yellow envelope on the kitchen island.

You both signed the papers that night. Then the filing process started.

That night you cried into the stuffed bear that he’d won for you at a carnival when you were nineteen. It was one of your first real dates, and you’d been so excited when he’d managed to actually win the ring toss three times in a row, scoring the large panda bear, giving it to you with a dopey smile on his face.

“Please—give me a second chance, I’ll do everything right this time—I won’t fall back into old shitty habits—I promise baby” his voice was strained as he tried not to cry. It took everything in him to not fall to his knees to beg for you back.

You sighed, pulling away from him as you shook your head.

“Joaquin, I think time apart might’ve been what we needed. But I still see the way you look at people around me, I still see the same shitty habits, and honestly, I think we might be better apart for now. We both have stuff to work through, but I won’t up and disappear from your life again”

He nodded as you spoke, biting his bottom lip, watching as you shrugged, sadness pooling in your teary eyes.

“I can’t be your wife again—not now at least. But maybe one day when we’re in a better spot.”

Joaquin sniffled a bit, looking up at the roof, then back at you. “One day for sure.”

Then you kissed him, it was soft, hesitant, but he knew it wasn’t a welcoming kiss. It was similar to the last kiss you’d given him the day your divorce finalized. As if you were saying goodbye again.

Joaquin only hoped that the goodbye would be temporary.

Thanks for reading my lovers <3 as always feedback is appreciated!!!

#joaquin torres x reader #joaquin torres x fem!reader #joaquin torres angst #joaquin torres x you #joaquin torres x y/n #joaquin torres fanfic #joaquin torres imagine #joaquin torres my beloved <3 #joaquin x y/n #joaquin x reader

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mona-risms · 22 days ago

Note

Ok I was thinking about making a whole ass fic about this myself, but seeing your taking Hunter/x requests I thought I’d pitch this to see how you’d imagine it.

I imagined Amab Reader (I was thinking a guy best friend thing for Rumi) but knowing u don’t write men I’ll pitch this as Masc GN.

They grew up with Rumi, trained to be hunters with Rumi and eventually became Hunter/x dance/choreographer, that’s been in love with Rumi since the day they met, but they’ve never told her.

Mira and Zoey know but never outed them to Rumi, they go through the movie helping the girls and watching Rumi fall in love with Jinu, and they take it pretty well, it hurts like hell but all that matters is Rumi's happiness.

Eventually we reach the events where the girls find out Rumis a demon and Mira raises her weapon to her and Reader steps in between them and they all argue, basically the conclusion of the argument outing readers feelings for Rumi.

Mira is like “You’re in love with a demon!”

And readers like “No im in love with Rumi” cause it doesn’t matter to them what she is.

And I just imagine them and Rumi leaving, she’s still in love with Jinu so that confession doesn’t magically have them together or even kiss now. But Rumi knows, over everything she’s ever wanted.

She has one person that for sure loves all of her. Even the parts she thought were unlovable because even her aunt and pseudo mother couldn’t love them.

But reader is there no matter what, and just holds her as she breaks down, because of all the awful stuff she’s had to endure with her self image, and knowing now that she doesn’t have to feel the shame her aunt instilled in her

Sincerely the Tsaritsa/Pyro Archon Anon

◆ MAIN COURSE: Rumi x gn!choreographer!Reader

◆ TYPE: SFW, romantic

◆ ALLERGEN WARNINGS: None. Maybe like one single mention in regards to how these events would be with a fem!reader but otherwise this is strictly gender neutral.

◆ NOTES: HELLO I DID SEE YOUR OTHER REQUEST AND I WAS GONNA WORK ON IT BEFORE KDH TOOK OVER MY BRAIN 😭😭😭 YES YOU CAN BE ☀️🌙 ANON FIRST OF ALL I' SO SORRY I HAVEN'T DONE THE OTHERS YET AND SECOND OF ALL THANK YOU FOR THE CONSIDERATION ☹️. Anyway read this for? The continuation? Not the right word but alas

It feels like sacrilege to write something about this because holy fuck this is already DEVASTATING as is 😭😭😭😭😭 WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS but god okay here we go

I'm just going to say to get it out of the way bc this is genuinely a thought I have—if this was a fem!reader thing, it'd be another form of devastation. Gonna state the obvious here but K-Pop idols being gay, while they definitely lean into the queer fanservice and it isn't illegal to be gay in South Korea, still isn't widely socially accepted (there are some exceptions that came out but it is VERY MINIMAL). I don't even think it'd ever register to Rumi that you'd ever be interested unless she had some sort of bi awakening or you flat-out spit it out. And even then considering how she was most likely raised by Celine to be a WEAPON in both demon slaying and idol stuff, along with being taught to hide herself, I don't even know if it'd be an easy thing to swallow. But that's just me okay ANYWAY moving on frfr

You two growing up together as childhood besties and Celine training the both of you since you were young gives you a sort of special bond that not even Zoey or Mira have bc I THINK iicr they had their own lives when they grew up before they got scouted by Celine (how tf would we know when they never go into it right ��). The two of you have the most experience, and the rapport comes the easiest. But as much as Rumi wanted to tell you about her demonic heritage, Celine has it drilled even deeper than you that she NEEDS to hide it—conceal don't feel Elsa type shit

I think Celine would also entrust watching over Rumi (and the whole of HUNTR/X) to you. Since, yk, there's only three people allowed every generation. This opens up the choreographer role, being able to guide them and their movements while keeping an eye on them when Celine can't. Unfortunately this also does kinda put pressure on you NOT confessing to Rumi bc 1) it'd probably end up as a distraction and 2) you don't wanna bother her about it. So at the VERY LEAST you'd be planning to say something AFTER they get the Golden Honmoon and all the demons are banished. Surely that'd be fine right? WRONG

Ever since the Saja Boys appeared, Rumi's been distant. Not just from Zoey and Mira, but you as well, which is diabolical since the two of you are guaranteed attached to the hip. Said two would be the only people that are well aware of your feelings for Rumi, and by GOD they feel bad for you. They're saying that Rumi's just!! Distracted over the upcoming Idol Awards and the Golden Honmoon!!!!!! But you've been seeing Rumi less and less, she's gradually kinda withdrawn and stopped talking to you about her problems, and she gets all sketchy and weird when you knock on her door or anything

The words slip out of your mouth before you could keep it down, "Did I do something wrong?"

Rumi looked up from her lap, her hands lightly pinching at the edges of her hoodie—your hoodie, you notice, the one you gave her one day but never bothered to ask for back because she said it was comfortable and gave good coverage of her whole body. "No?" Her eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, and she looked genuinely taken off-guard by your question, "I don't.. think so? Why do you ask? Did something happen?"

You shook your head, "No, just.. you've just been avoiding me recently, so I thought I made you upset somehow."

"You know if I was upset, I'd tell you, right? Been doing that since we were kids," Rumi smiled lightly, "even when it was just me tripping over a rock and wanting those cute little bandaids you had."

At one point, you would've said 'yes' without a single doubt in your mind, but recently you've had doubts. Growing up with her meant you basically knew her better than she even knew herself, after all.

You wanted to say 'no' or 'I don't know'. You wanted to be honest.

"Yeah. I do." That's all that came tumbling out. "But I just..."

Miss you.

You shrugged before sitting down beside her on the bed, bumping your shoulders together as you reassured her, though you didn't know of what, "Don't forget you can come to me anything, yeah? I'm not gonna judge."

She doesn't verbally answer, but she does nod and lean on your side. Though you don't dare to look down at her expression—the nagging feeling of paranoia, mixed with the respect you had for Rumi, was pushing you away from prying—if you did you would've seen regret written all over her face.

It only all makes sense at the Idol Awards, when her identity is revealed and you lot all realise she was trying to work with Jinu (clearly it kinda failed since 🤷‍♀️). It clicks to you Really Easily, why Rumi's been secretive and distant this whole time, and even when it came to other stuff like why she doesn't go to the bathhouse or why she favours things with full coverage and long sleeves even if it was the MIDDLE OF FUCKING JULY!!!! You saw it on the screen, right beside Bobby, and by the time you get to where the girls are, Mira and Zoey have their weapons pointed at Rumi and Rumi is glowing, devastated, inhuman

Do you care though? No duh. So you step in between the two parties with your own weapon. But even you could tell that Mira and Zoey weren't into it at all—they didn't wanna fight Rumi at all

Mira's grip tightened on her glaive, "[Y/N]. Step away."

"No," you raised your own weapon higher, "not before the two of you lower your weapons. What the hell are you doing?"

"What we, as Hunters, are supposed to be doing!" Mira's voice raised, tinged with a mix of disbelief and mournful desperation, "We've been trained under the code of killing all demons for years, and yet she's been working with them the whole time?"

You hear Rumi's voice from behind you, broken, layered with something else, "No, I--"

"Oh, cut the crap! You kept this a secret the entire time and never thought to tell us when we-- when we--" Mira's voice broke off with a strangled rasp, her blade lowering slightly, before she blinked her unshed tears away and held firm with her stance, "If you're not going to help us, then step away."

You didn't move, "No."

"Stop being so stubborn and turn around! Look at her!"

And you did.

You saw her eyes, half a normal brown and half a slitted amber that glowed just like the purple markings that stretched all across her skin. You saw the claws on one of her hands, the way her skin now sported a grey-violet tinge that gradiented into her normal skin colour.

You saw the shame.

Zoey, the quietest you've ever seen her, dematerialised one hand of her knives to tug at Mira's jacket, "Mira, maybe we can just.. leave--"

"You're defending a demon that lied to us--"

"I'm defending someone I love!"

Silence followed, save for the echoes of your raised proclamation that bounced off the walls—

"It doesn't matter what she is, she's still my Rumi. If you really want to kill her, if you really believe that she's nothing but a demon? You'll have to kill me first."

—and the sharp intake of breath from behind you.

If Rumi were to look at the others' faces, she wouldn't see shock—they knew, after all. Instead, their expressions had crumpled. Zoey's hold on her knives had trembled slightly, and Mira had stared at you in a mix of rage and devastation.. before the both of them lowered their arms.

"..Go," you spoke softly, keeping your eyes pinned onto the duo as you spoke to the woman behind you, despite the heartache, "find him. See what went wrong."

Her clawed hand had shakily reached out behind you, but she retracts it in a near-instant with a tiny whimper before running off.

And that's when you slumped to your knees.

"Fuck."

And then the whole thing kinda goes the same way it did until the end of the movie. Rumi's mourning for someone that, by Hunter code, she shouldn't have mourned and yet it's not as if feelings are easy to erase. Not just her feelings for Jinu, but yes her fears, her insecurities, her shame (no thanks to Celine, you find out from her later 😒)

It'd definitely take a while for her to get accustomed to walking around with her markings freely out in the open. This girl's been raised to think she should be ASHAMED of herself for even basically existing, and she has to hide whatever taint her demonic ancestry's given her instead of embracing it. Add onto the fact that she's realised the entire time there was one person who's loved her and WILL love her unconditionally, even when sometimes she still thinks she looks like a monster when her internal doubts get to her? Oh she's crying. And who does she realise holds her every time? You.

"I'm sorry."

You shook your head, "Don't ever be sorry. I.. kinda figured it was best to keep it a secret until it faded away."

"Don't say that," she smacked your arm lightly.

"Okay, yeah, I guess it does sound kind of sad."

"'Kind of'?" Rumi scoffed lightly, though her tone held no heat to it, "Mira and Zoey told me that you've been having this crush for years!"

"Since I first saw you, actually."

"That makes it worse! ..For that long?"

"..yeah." You laughed, mostly at yourself as you looked out at the city from her room balcony, "I don't think it'll go away."

Rumi just watched you, watched how the city lights and the iridescent Honmoon twinkled in your eyes. And she tore her eyes away after a while, resulting in the both of you simply.. city-watching amidst the silence.

But she breaks it after a while, her voice a fragile thing, "..Could you.. wait for me?"

"Hm?"

"I think.. I want to recover. Or, well, unlearn Celine's.. way of the Honmoon." She leans her head on your shoulder, her now-iridescent markings casting a soft glow on your skin and her hair loose from her usual braid, "I want to learn how to stop hiding first. Then.. I'll see. Is that.. okay?"

You looped your arm around Rumi to hug her by the side without any hesitation, "Take as much time as you want. I'll be here."

"..Thank you."

"Mm. ..Besides, who else would choreograph your dances? Mira could, sure, but not as good as me."

"Pfft. Ruin the moment, why don't you?"

#mona's main course...#gala attendee: ☀️🌙.#rumi x reader #kdh rumi x reader #kpop demon hunters x reader #kpop demon hunters imagines #kdh x reader #kdh imagines #huntrix x reader #huntrix imagines #huntr/x x reader #huntr/x imagines

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brights-place · 3 months ago

Note

Hiii :3c

Could I request a reader who is Malleus's adoptive sibling but they act nothing like him? Like they act more like Sebek without the fanboy part and the prejudice. Basically they have an RBF (resting bi- face) all the time and express anger openly unlike Malleus. That and they look nothing alike so-

(If I need to specify characters just tell me pls <3)

[TWST] TWST & Malleus Sibling!Reader Warnings: Fluff, Fights, Shouting, Mentions of Racism, Fancy Words A/N: OKAY SORRY THIS TOOK AWHILE BUT I PROMISE I WAS TWEAKING OUT !! Also Sylvan and Druidic is fae language in dnd IM USING IT BECAUSE YES also I’d just say that Reader grew up with malleus that’s why mostly! Im sorry this is weird and everywhere but I hope its good!

Summary: Malleus had an adopted sibling which was not known until Malleus mentioned bringing back something for his younger sibling around Yuu and the others. So the moment Malleus explained that his younger sibling was a 2nd year who was in Diasomnia known for their explosive behavior that outmatched Riddles. A student who hanged around Silver who would speak Sylvan and Druidic infront of people with a deadpan face when needing to ignoring them, while also showing their anger without hesitation more then Malleus ever could. At that moment most 2nd year students turned to Malleus and realized that Malleus was talking about a particular Second year who seemed to go head to head with housewardens, lash out at those who would speak ill of those they didn't know, and speak in a different tongue around others made them realize the only person Malleus could talk about was.. You.

Nobody would of expected it. I mean nobody would of until Malleus brought it up that HE himself the future king of briar valley had a younger sibling and that younger sibling being the person that rivals against Riddle with anger issues, Is louder than Sebek as well as being one of the people who brawled the FLOYD LEECH to the floor for speaking about Malleus. THE [Name] [Last Name] was Malleus Draconia is younger sibling adoptive but still! even though you had no resemblance? With you e/c eyes and h/c hair I mean yeah you spoke in Sylvan and Druidic infront of people with a deadpan face or when needing to ignoring them, while also showing their anger without hesitation more then Malleus ever could. Yet unlike Malleus you had a resting bitch face one that would ward off people which was what mostly happen with others especially with other 3rd years and Second years. The first years though had no idea who you were except for Sebek who would shout loudly whenever.

- Malleus loves the fact he is your older brother he wears it as a badge of honour even if you cringe at him for when he pampers your face and tries to hang around you calling him weird

- Malleus doesn’t know that you rip up and shred invitations that were given to you for patties. If malleus didn’t go you wouldn’t either without hesitation - Sibling brawls are common with you being the only one to challange malleus while Sebek shouts at you yet he does also remember that you are also a Draconia... - Malleus and you brawl with you always losing after getting tired from trying to take down your brother.

- Though you always grin at your brother and tackling him when he turns his back you are one of the only people that can do that in private times

- When people find out your related to malleus they all are just staring with wide eyes trying to understand because you were calm yes just like malleus with the same poised expression along with humour yet you lashed out to those who would insult malleus or state harm to the draconia name so you being one was weird and shocking to figure out

- Out of both of you two your the one that talks smack to people infront of their faces in fare tongue - Malleus himself though is quick to defend you against someone even when introducing you "Hello, I am Malleus Draconia. And this is my younger Sibling [Name].” "... but they’re adopted?..." the sound of lightning striking was heard as Malleus stared down at the student “What did you say about my younger sibling? Please repeat it I would love to see your face when being striked down"

- unlike malleus you were able to express more emotions towards others with your blank face staring down/up at others who would try to talk badly of those around you as if they were worth the waste of time.

- Your voice is louder than sebeks so when you need to shout over sebek. you’re close to making people go deaf. Lets not start with the loud whistle you could do to silence people faster than a librarian ever could to focus and pay attention

- When someone disrespects malleus (Leona) You would scowl at them and point out ever flaw of their entire being ripping them to shreds for even insulting your brother

- Even having a resting bitch face is normal for you yet how fast it can switch up makes people feel like they are walking on eggshells

- You and Sebek have daily debates about malleus but also what to do when protecting Malleus as his safety matters

- Sebek has stared you down when you had shouted so loudly that had everybody shut up instantly when you needed their attention to listen to someone else.

- Various characters had tried to talk to you for other reasons or for fun yet the difference between you and malleus shocked them

- Riddle has tried to talk to you as if to try understand the way a draconia would act so he knew how to also speak to malleus yet around you… the way you stared at him made him freeze for a moment under your stern gaze as if he was seeing his mother again with your blank face before you clicked your tongue and muttered something in fae tongue he never understood yet the way you patted his shoulder and left made his lips twitch up slight

- Riddle though would have you help him learn how to shout louder to get his dorm mates is attention even with his authority he needed to get better

- Leona has despised you the way you smelt, acted, held yourself and the way you had lashed out at him for speaking about your brotherly lowly made his tail flick annoyed growling. Yet he couldn’t help but respect how you stood up for your brother even if he wasn’t there.

- Leona stares at you when you’d shout at him with slight entertainment sometimes knowing that you would bite and tear him apart if you were allowed to. Even if he was a prince you made Leona feel like an equal even if you were telling him that even if he’s a prince he should respect those that hold the treaty for the kingdoms.

- Azul once tried to talk to you in an elective class but the way he noticed how you stared at him blankly and went back to focusing on the class had him deflate instantly muttering to himself how to befriend someone like you

- Azul has watched and witnessed you do many things trying to interact with you yet he can’t help but tense when he feels you wrap a hand on his shoulder to move him aside when he was in your way. It was horrifying with how blank your face was when staring at him

- Kalim calls you a friend. He has been trying to learn how to speak in Sylvan and Druidic just for you since he noticed you’d switch up languages to those around you ie. sebek, silver, lilia, and Malleus he thought it was easier to talk to you in an language you’d understand

- So when he did the way he saw your resting bitch face turned into one of shock made him freeze since he wouldn’t have expected your whole facade to drop plus when you were turning to him slowly he saw how for a moment your eyes sparked. Kalim grinned when you replied back in fae the boy excitedly nodded before trying to have a full blown conversation with you

- Malleus who was going to approach you before he heard Kalim speaking to you in Sylvan in a very broken accent. Malleus couldn’t help but smile noting down how you were making friends though he couldn’t help but have a gut twisting feeling as your older brother to be weary

- Vil has always admired your apperance yet he couldn’t help but scowl with how fats you switch up when needed to be. Like he does with epel he has tried to make-you more proper but you easily spoke up over him with a louder voice telling him that you had rights to react in ways as it is self expression and that you already know how to act in a proper way.

- Vil has witnessed how you were calm yet when Malleus came up into a topic he’d notice how you side eyed the person and would have small reactions before close to insulting the person if they were trying to belittle malleus

- Idia is scared of you the guy literally hates how loud you are and your resting face makes him flinch yet he can’t help but get entertained with how you are passionate about Malleus because if he saw you act like that for a franchise he would of definitely befriended you yet you stare people down like bugs so he’d fear you from afar.

- Idia has infact bumped into you and froze while you glared at him before noticing one if his keychains from a certain videogame that you pointed out and said “I like that character their stats are good but I couldn’t pull for them” before you walked off. Idia stared at your form wide eyed you the blank resting bitch face [Name] the one who shouts at others when they are incompetent the one that is a sibling to Malleus knows his favourite games…

- Malleus can’t express himself as he was the next king he couldn’t show expression as it causes problems so its common for him to notice that when your around him you react for him..

- Malleus can’t help but smile slightly staring at you. The way you’d express yourself louder getting others attention making a wave of noise around you so he himself could express himself slightly even if it’s a small slip of a mask for him

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earlysunshines · 1 year ago

Text

killshot

im nayeon x fem!reader ; smut!!

synopsis: your roommate is aware that you hate her and she likes irritating you but oh no she just now realizes you’re hot and wants you so bad

warnings: kinda porn w no plot ; smut!!! ; mentions of alcohol ; hate fucking(???) ; degradation kinda ; insulting each other as they fuck yesss ; face riding ; comp sci major!reader *shivers and shakes* ; fwb-ish but not really ; nayeon is umm lowk manipulative but only if you squint , maybe? ; not proofread as always

wc: 5.1k

a/n: computer science major slander (i'm jealous) and also i don’t like the pacing but oh well maybe u guys will (i'd be such a great writer if i weren’t lazy af... )

with a groan, you lift yourself off the bed after hearing a loud thud. tiredly, you blindly reach for your phone and check for the time with squinted eyes: 1:04am.

a low “fuck” leaves your lips while you struggle to sit up, still hearing the impact of bodies crashing against the walls and the faint sounds of a woman and man groaning through the bedroom door.

nayeon is home.

this is a bi-weekly occurrence; your roommate nayeon stumbles into the apartment all hot and heavy from the alcohol that was in her system, and then you can hear her getting all intimate—against your will—with some random person she’s found at the various clubs she cycles through. to be completely honest, you don’t care for her midnight rendezvous, just as long as they don’t bother you.

however, this night she’s bothered you greatly; you’re fucking irritated.

just when you had finally sought solace in the arms of sleep after hours of laboring over a project, your few minutes of rest are abruptly shattered by the intrusion of nayeon. —all drunk and insatiable—who’s barging into your room whilst some average guy latches onto her neck. he doesn’t look like he knows what he’s doing, but it doesn’t matter because nayeon’s senses are too fucked to really pay attention to that.

“get the hell out of my room.” you yell angrily towards the two. to say you were annoyed would be an overwhelming understatement, you were furious.

“ah—fuck, sorry y/n,” she responds, voice all airy and light whilst the man’s hand slides down to play with the edge of her dress. “wrong room baby, let’s go.” she says whilst pushing the man off her a bit, much to his dismay.

they both leave the room, still attached to each other with their hands roaming and gripping at anything. to make matters even worse; they didn’t close the door behind them.

“fucking whore.” you scoff, falling back down on your bed and groaning.

im nayeon is an indescribable pain in your ass and unfortunately, she also happens to be your roommate.

for the most part, you generally pride yourself on your composure and tolerance, but living with nayeon has truly put your patience to the test. she's irresponsible and unreliable, which regularly pushes you to your limits. you find yourself frustrated sharing an apartment with someone who’s always falling hort of your expectations. she's falling far from them, really, and it’s almost impressive.

she has a knack for disappearing into the lurking in the apartment while you're away, often entertaining friends and leaving behind a mess in her wake. the audacity she possesses to neglect simple chores like doing the dishes or tidying up after herself borders on infuriating, you’re fighting the urge to bodyslam her into the mattress sometimes. it's as though she expects the cleaning fairy to magically swoop in and restore order while you're left to pick up the pieces of her irresponsibility, maybe she thinks you’re the fucking cleaning fairy.

living with her was hell, you don’t even know how she managed to keep up with her courses and stay sane with how she lived her life. she was a pretentious, sassy little thorn stuck in your skin.

but still, there are two things that keep you tethered to the apartment, even if it's a bit embarrassing to admit on factor. one: the rent is cheaper, and your shared living space is nice. two: nayeon’s fucking hot.

the truth is: nayeon is the epitome of physical allure, the hottest person you've ever laid eyes on. as much as you resent her for her shortcomings, you find yourself unable to ignore the pull of her undeniable visuals, which whispers against the urge to pack your bags and leave.

you despised the stupid allure of her face, the way her figure teased and tempted, and the fact that she held the power to have you on your knees if she poked you in the right ways. it grated on your nerves to know that you weren't the only one drawn to her; half the campus seemed to be either enamored with her, aspiring to be her, or eager to get into her pants. and she wielded her beauty like a weapon, using her "pretty privilege" to her advantage.

the feeling you had towards her was bitter, but the attraction you had made things complicated.

it was easy to mask your little attraction for your pretentious roommate with annoyed comments and irritated glares, but deep inside you wanted her in ways that you could never admit out loud. countless daydreams and very questionable thoughts about her invaded your mind at the worst times possible, espeically when she was near.

your irritation mixed with attraction was mutual. nayeon felt the same way about you; what a match.

at first, nayeon found herself irritated by your stuck-up demeanor and seemingly perfect self. your involvement in various extracurricular activities, dedication to your studies, and honestly majoring in computer science major as a whole contributed to her initial impression of you as someone who had it all together. it was a stark contrast to her own carefree attitude and laid-back approach to everything, which built friction between the two of you.

(nayeon could never do all of that, study for hours and keep her shit together. and god, especially watching you type for two hours straight already made her head swirl. how does someone do that without losing their shit? she wonders if you’re okay)

from nayeon's perspective, you were nothing more than a stuck-up bitch in her shared home, always fussing over cleanliness like a relentless clean freak. it striked a nerve every time you scolded her for leaving behind a couple of dishes or a few stray bottles of alcohol. if it bothered you so much, why not just pick up after yourself instead of constantly complaining?

despite the irritation you stirred within her, nayeon couldn't deny the undeniable truth: you were actually pretty cute for a nerdy, uptight roommate. in fact, she'd even go as far as to admit that you were pretty hot.

nayeon has seen the people in the computer science department, most of them are men who look like they’ve never spoken to a woman or gone outside for more than thirty minutes a day. you on the other hand were quite the sight, someone nayeon would describe as “eye candy.”

and yeah, she kind of overlooked the fact that you were her type after you had yelled at her so much, but then there was this one little moment that changed her mind. maybe she could tolerate you more.

(maybe nayeon had to put looks first in this case.)

some thursday afternoon, while you typically would be found either buried in books at the library or enjoying the afternoon at a café, nayeon found herself in a predicament—she couldn't find one of her favorite t-shirts. with frustration growing, she decided to take matters into her own hands and went into your room to see if it had somehow ended up there, given that you were supposed to be out.

to her surprise, she discovered that you were most definitely home, a fact that caught her completely off guard—especially when you’re home in your room, in the middle of taking your pants off.

she barges into your room to see you with your shirt off and the fly of your pants down, revealing some of the logo of your victoria’s secret underwear. your cheeks flush a dark hue of red when you realize she’s invaded your privacy, and you quickly cover your chest—which, is already covered since you have a bra on, but god is this whole situation embarrassing.

after you literally push her out the door—slamming it shut with embarrassment—nayeon stands outside the door with a newfound interest.

nayeon couldn't fathom that someone who dedicated their sanity to lines of numbers and letters on a screen could look so good. there was something mesmerizing about the subtle groove tracing down your stomach, hinting at the definition of your abs, or the glimpse of your bicep as you hastily covered yourself and scolded her for intruding, maybe even the hint of muscle on your shoulders. whatever it was—all nayeon knew was that the little mishap of you not locking the door and giving her the chance see you like that piqued her interest without doubt.

and after seeing you half naked? the image of you, with your shirt off and the hint of your physique tantalizingly on display? holy shit you had her fantasizing a little (a lot) more than she already had been; she needed some of her fantasies to come true.

your roommate had already been attentive to your quick—and evident—glances on her body and her lips. she also noted the subtle bite of your lips when she swayed by, your eyes barely caught her, but she noticed it all. getting her fantasies to become a reality seemed easy enough—probably—and she was determined to make it all happen.

she knew she already had you starting to wrap around her finger, just by those observations, so it should be easy enough to get you hot and heavy, right?

“oh look who’s finally fucking awake.” you mutter, turning around to see the hungover, marked up woman emerging from the hall.

nayeon rolls her eyes at you like always and simply responds, “oh shut up, don’t be a drag.”

“i’m a drag? i’m not the one barging in at one in the morning the same night my roommate stays up to actually do their school shit. not only that, but that fucking guy—”

“was a terrible kisser,” nayeon cuts you off, pinching the bridge of her nose. “i kicked him out so can you please just—”

“no!” you scoff, surprising nayeon with this burst of anger. you’re much more irritated than usual, which is weird. nayeon suspects that it’s because she’s never accidentally stumbled into your room, and to be fair; this was kind of intentional.

you see, nayeon thought that if she could make you a little jealous, it’d increase the chances of you intervening. just what she wanted.

“i couldn’t fucking sleep and i have a really important assessment today.”

“yeah yeah, move over i need some tea.” nayeon says tiredly. upon hearing her response, you clench your jaw tightly and lean against the marble counter, gripping it with one hand tightly to suppress your annoyance.

your roommate looks at you and a laugh slips out accidentally. after hearing that, there's probably a vein visible on your forehead, maybe your neck—somewhere.

that was your last straw.

angrily, you lift yourself off the counter and swiftly advance towards nayeon, pinning her against the fridge with force. the impact reverberates through her as her back meets the cold surface, while you lean in closer, your eyes narrowing with intensity.

now, this should not be turning nayeon on—she’s going to blame it on her hangover and whatnot, and maybe the fact that whoever that guy was and whatever he did didn’t really satitate her—but it does.

with barely an inch of space separating you, your height advantage allows you to tilt your head down, locking eyes with nayeon with a glare. the tension crackles between you like a firework, it’s thick and palpable, your look shows restrained anger. despite how furious you look, there's an unexpected allure to you, drawing nayeon in even as she senses the little reprimanding you’ll give her.

“don’t give me that fucking attitude nayeon. you’re fucking unbelievable, you’re a fucking slut, you know?”

“yeah?” she says, a smirk tugging at her pretty, plump lips.

you feel your body tense as soon as you start to take in the proximity of the two of you. gulping lightly, you move yourself away just an inch, but nayeon pauses you, pinching your collar.

“oh don’t get so timid now, you were just fuming earlier pretty.” she laughs. “keep going. this is cute, i like this. what did you call me again?”

as nayeon's eyes flicker from yours to your lips and back again, the tension between you is like pushing down on a spring, and it’s about to pop back up any moment. sensing an opportunity, nayeon skillfully navigates her way out of the looming scolding, her allure becoming a potent weapon against your mood. she begins to weave her charm, coaxing a reluctant softening in your expression. despite your initial anger, you find yourself drawn to her, you can’t let yourself slip up, not now, not when she’s the reason you might fail your assessment.

“you’re— you’re so... fucking irritating…” you mumble the last part of your sentence, voice getting smaller. you push yourself away from her and shake your head, trying to conceal your blush. nayeon giggles before going back to making her tea, the tension in the air like an invisible weight pressing down on you, and this whole morning might just completely flatten you down from how distracting it’ll be the whole day.

nayeon’s relieved, at least you’re not scolding her while she dips her chamomile bag in and out her little mug of hot water.

the day is filled with the events of the morning, with you struggling to finish various lines of code because the feeling of nayeon toying with your collar lingers, and nayeon trying to force the thought of you finally snapping in her head.

seems like the two of you are trying to avoid the same thought, despite how badly you two want it.

it's palpable that there’s something in the air that needs to be swatted away, and nayeon knows you’re too much of a coward to really do anything about it, so she’ll figure somethign out.

one thing about im nayeon: she always gets her way, no questions asked, no matter what it takes.

nayeon finds you on the couch typing away later that night, probably doing some homework.

nayeon plops down next to you, intending to tease and push you over the edge. you turn your head after feeling the cushions under you shift, immediately grimacing once you see your roommate.

“what do you want?”

“what, i can’t sit next to my roommate?” nayeon questions, “i’m just going to watch tv, if you don’t like it you can leave.”

“whore.” you mutter under your breath, quiet enough so she doesn’t catch what you say.

your roommate lounges lazily on the couch and rests her head against the armrest. as she reclined, her hair spilled over, framing her face like a halo. nayeon's gaze wandered lazily around the room before settling on the tv, and with a languid movement, she turned to lay fully, bending her legs so they didn't intrude into your personal space.

your jaw tensed, a visceral reaction to the sight before you. the light from the tv in the dimmed room accentuated the allure of nayeon's figure. you couldn't help but steal a glance, your attention momentarily torn away from your screen by the annoyingly captivating vision in your periphery.

casual sweatpants adorned her figure, the looseness of the bottoms from brandy allowing for comfort yet teasingly hinting at the eye-catching curves of her terribly alluring figure beneath. the fit of her tank top—cropped just enough to expose a sliver of her toned midriff—effortlessly made your gaze linger. the fabric clung to her silhouette in all the right places, revealing the subtle contours that sent a subtle jolt through the room and your veins. you completely forgot about pretending to be irritated in that brief trance.

the tank top, snug against her skin, revealed a gentle dip of her collarbone, an enticing invitation that you took note of. the image staying in your head even as your attention returned to your screen. a flush settled on your cheeks as you tried to focus again. the ambiance of the room, however, remained penetrated with the downplayed sensuality that lingered in the air. you huff lowly. she's winning whatever game this is without even trying.

after typing at your laptop for a bit, you hear the faint sound of people talking in the background. you look up from the screen and see some show playing, then turn to see nayeon’s head turned toward the tv.

shaking your head, you redirect your attention back to the assignment in front of you; the task is quite easy, but it’s insanely tedious and for some strange reason nayeon’s presence isn’t helping you.

nayeon shifts on the couch and sits upright against the cushion, you don’t bat an eye. your roommate is sick of you being academic, she’s bored and wants your attention. needs it, maybe.

“when’s that due?”

without turning your head, you respond, “next week.”

“why do it now?”

“why do you care?” your tone is impatient. “and besides, it’s better to get things done earlier.”

“nerd.” nayeon sighs. she scoots over and peers at your screen, putting her hand down beside you to prop herself up and when she leans over, her boob smushes against your arm a little.

you glare at her. “aren’t you usually out? it’s a friday night.”

she shrugs. “didn’t feel like it.” and after she scans the screen one more time, she leans away (to your dismay) and continues on with whatever drama she had been watching.

the thought of her boob being smushed against you lingers, embarassingly it’s almost tattooed in your mind for the next half an hour.

when you finish your assignment, that’s when you let out a big, hefty breath and close your laptop.

nayeon's annoyingly melodic giggle dances in the air as you sink into the plush couch, surrendering to its embrace that eases the pain in your shoulders. after savoring your few seconds of tranquility, your thoughts drift to the comfort awaiting you in your bedroom, your bed, peace and quiet, being enveloped by the blanket.

as you start to stand up, a delicate yet firm grip clings to your forearm, delaying your departure. nayeon's touch, like a sirens call, invites you to linger, gently coaxing you to stay a little longer.

she bats her eyelashes at you. “stay here.”

you brows knit. “why would i stay with you?”

“watching shows alone is boring, and i know your ass isn’t going anywhere tonight.”

you groan in response and decide to give in—you might as well lounge on the couch for a bit—earning a smug smile from your roommate. she unpauses her show and you allow yourself to ease into the cushion, then watch with her (against your will), only to immediately tense up at the scene that unravels before your eyes.

two girls appear on screen, and they’re kissing each other.

they’re close, kissing, and then fifteen seconds pass and boom—they’re eating each other’s mouths sloppily, groaning and everything, tongue and all. you shift in your seat when you feel a weird pulse down at your core.

“y/n,” nayeon starts, “have you ever even kissed someone?”

“of course i have.” you respond, crossing your arms.

nayeon turns her head in surprise and tilts her head. “seriously?”

“yes, is it that surprising?”

“well, you’re always cooped up in the house and whatnot… didn’t think you had any game.”

“i hooked up with someone last month for your information. i'm not a homebody.”

“yeah? sure, you did.” she laughs, shaking her head. you roll your eyes at her.

“fuck you.” you mutter, keeping your eyes on the tv and watching the two girls undress each other. “do you always watch shit like this?”

“why, does it turn you on or something?” nayeon asks, shifting closer to you. a lump forms in your throat.

you shoot a quick glare at her and lie, “no.”

nayeon laughs in amusement after pink dusts your cheeks. “you seem pretty flustered baby.”

what the fuck?

as you meet her gaze, a wave of surprise washes over you, mirroring the hunger that burns in her eyes. nayeon's laughter tumbles from her lips, enchanting and playful, as she places her hand delicately on the couch. leaning towards you, she ignites a spark that makes your heart skip a beat. feeling a sudden urge to be closer, you subtly shift in your seat, captivated by the exhilarating simplicity of the moment and giving into nayeon’s intentions.

“i don’t believe you.” she says.

“what?”

“you’ve never kissed someone, hell, like you could even fuck someone.”

“excuse me?”

she just laughs at the mix of emotions coming from you; your cheeks are dusted pink, but your tone and expression displays that regular irritated look of yours.

then she bites the corner of her lip, finally easing into the reason she even bothered you in the first place. she leans a little closer, lips hovering near your ear lobe, and giggles again.

“how about you prove that you’ve fucked someone, hm?” nayeon suggests, raising her brows. “that you even can.”

your breath trembles slightly, you’re stiff in your place.

“if it’ll shut you up then... fine.”

she clicks her tongue, then pulls away from your ear. now she’s looking at you with a shit eating grin, you want to wipe it off her face.

the air stilled, your breath shook, and nayeon’s hand inches to your forearm. her other hand grabs the collar of your shirt, pulling you in and your lips meet in the middle.

she tastes like cherry, well, her lip gloss does.

your hand finds its way to the back of her neck, pushing her deeper into you so your lips can hungrily slide and suck and gosh, everything, all of the above, both a and c, you name it.

the last thing you had on your mind for the friday night was kissing your roommate aggressively. initially, you were just going to finish the assignment and take a nap or something, but this? it’s much better than what you had planned originally.

nayeon practically takes your breath away after simply kissing you, just the way your lips lock makes you greedy. you groan accidentally, embarassed until you have nayeon groaning into you too, even louder for that matter.

you pull away for a brief moment, voice a little shaky and out of breath. “is this why you bothered me? are you that horny that you wanted me to fuck you?”

“oh shut up, it’s not like you’re against it.” nayeon’s right, you’re not. not in the slightest.

“fuck you” is uttered from your lips before you crash your lips against her again, taking the air from her lungs again.

the kissing quickly escalates and your tongues are in each other’s mouths. you’re both unashamedly moaning and groaning into each other carelessly, it’s funny how quickly everything escalated within seconds, the boundaries between whatever you two had dissolved like sugar in boiling water. you shift yourselves over so that nayeon is under you, both your knees on either side of her legs. you reach over for the remote to pause the two girls who were mirroring the two of you—well, the two of you started going at it after they did so maybe it was the two of you mirroring them.

each subsequent kiss felt as electrifying as the crackle of sparks dancing in a bonfire. the more nayeon deepened the kiss the more it drove you crazy, irrationally enough to continue kissing her and slip your hands under her shirt.

nayeon sighs blissfully as you kiss down her neck, her fingers tangle with your hair while she claws at it aggressively, and still, the pain from her grabbing your hair only turns you on more.

“fuck,” she groans when you suck on her neck, sinking her nails into your tricep.

“slut.” you mutter, smirking against her. “so easy to rile up.”

unashamedly, nayeon begs and begs for you until you’re biting down on her skin, repeatedly uttering your name until you’re leaving marks that’ll have her friends wondering who ruined her this time—and this time, it’s not some person she’s run into at the bar while tipsy.

still, she could get drunk just off of you.

you start to undress her, starting with her top and taking a moment to gaze at her undeniably alluring figure. strands of hair just barely stick to her forehead as she gazes at you breathlessly with eyes full of lust. she moves her slender fingers to work at the edge of your shirt, urging you to take that stupid t-shirt you have on off so she can get a sight of your surprisingly exciting figure. maybe she’ll get a better, longer view of what she had seen that night she walked in on you changing.

“fuck, why have you been hiding this?” she mutters, sliding her hand down your side. “god you fucking bitch.”

“if i didn’t you’d be all over me, you fucking horny mess.” you spit back harshly, but the way you moan when nayeon latches her lips onto your neck completely rids of that fake, irritated tone of yours.

nayeon ends up on top of you in a matter of seconds, thenyou’re groping her ass shamelessly as you two devour each other’s mouths again. hands tug at whatever else covers your bodies until it’s just the two of you skin to skin. everything that had just happened in the span of ten minutes was for sure ten times better than whatever else had been going on in the movie.

you can feel her grinding desperately against your thigh as you kiss her, feeling the moisture from her needy cunt that dampens your once-dry upper leg. you palm her breasts blindly and feel her gasp against you, and then nayeon forgets how to breath when you press your thigh up and against her, adding more stimulus.

she moans frustratedly, the feeling of just your thigh against her throbbing pussy is far from what she needs. so, she’s putting her hand on the middle of your chest and pushing you down to lay flat on your back. she bites her lip blatantly before lifting her hips away from your skin.

you furrow your brows in confusion and begin, “what are you—”

“shut up,” she grunts, shoving one hand in your head and gripping your hair so rough that you whimper. she shifts over so that her pussy is directly above your mouth and orders: “just eat, bitch.”

this is something you can’t argue with her about, and fuck you’re hungry.

there’s a meal waiting for you that you’ve been craving, you can’t just lay there and starve.

eagerly, you lift your head up a bit to meet the aching in between her legs; she’s so wet and you’re definitely teasing her about this later—but who knows how long it will take until it’s later.

she moans louder than ever and it surprises the both of you, it only leaves you wanting more of her, wanting to hear her when she’s at her limit. your nails sink into the flesh of her thigh as you devour ravenously, taking note of what makes her twitch more and what earns lewder noises. what earns noises that turn you on more than ever.

it doesn’t surprise you how shameless she is during sex—clearly, she isn’t ashamed of seducing her roommate—the way she rides your face so desperately gives you enough to know how she is.

nayeon likes when you suck on her clit, she grips your hair tighter with each “pop” sound that’s made after you release the suction. she’s easy to read, her cunt is easy to adjust to.

“fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” nayeon moans, leaning back little while she continues to ride, head tilted back and face almost parallel to the ceiling. “god-- fuck, oh my—shit, keep going,”

you can see her tits from your view, nipples all perked up while you grip onto her thighs tighter, feeling her shake in your grasp.

nayeon's like an alarm clock, ticking and ticking away until the alarm rings, her cry echoing through the room, hand gripping at your hair tighter than ever as her head falls back. you continue to savor her arousal even after she came, earning little whines and whispers of your name.

“oh, y/n, just like that...”

you're doing all the work now, which only helps with your aversion towards her, but still, you’ve made her moan, cry—all of the above, so at least there’s something to use against her.

and then she lifts herself off of you, letting your head rest back against the seat of the couch so you can catch your breath.

when she looks down, all she can make out through fuzzy vision and overwhelmed senses is the puff of your lips, hooded eyes, and fucked up hair; everything about the sight of you is a product of her desires, a fantasy that’s been lingering in her mind now come true.

“slut,” you mutter, almost breathlessly. “you’re really loud, you know.”

“fuck you.”

“already did.” you retort, giggling. “let’s go for another.”

“oh so now look who’s a horny mess.” nayeon responds, moving over to sit on your lap.

you sit up, holding yourself up with your hands placed behind you. “you just never shut up, do you?”

nayeon smiles before tracing her finger along your skin. “do you me want to?”

you look at her amusingly before shifting positions so she’s laying down flat on her back, with you hovering above. the two of you kiss again, nayeon savoring a the traces of arousal off you, a muffled hum of delight vibrating against your locked lips.

she pulls away, thumbing your nipple and making you groan surprisingly. you pull away to glare at her.

nayeon laughs, “wow, you’re so--”

you cut her off by shoving your ring and middle finger in her mouth, she almost gags, but the way she sucks obediently is enough to tell you that she’s enjoying this.

“you just never shut up,”

in response, she moans with your fingers still in your mouth, right before you pull them out, skin coated with her saliva.

you bring your fingers down to her cunt, teasing her folds.

“let’s change that.”

#miinatozakiii #twice x reader #kpop x reader #twice imagines #nayeon x reader #im nayeon #im nayeon x reader #twice smut #twice nayeon

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i-just-wanna-write-fanfic · 3 months ago

Note

since you're back in business could i request the eltingville club (separately of course) x male reader who dresses all emo and is kinda an asshole? im so excited to see that you're back and writing for them omg!! 😭❤️

YESSSS YESSSSSSSSSSSSS My first back in business request being eltingville.. fuck yes

ELTINGVILLE (SEPERATE) X MALE/EMO/JERK READER!

Ew.. gay.. ew.. cw: for homophobia, f-slur, and r-slur.. I'm very gay and autistic.. aslo tw I think I can't write Bill very well but whatever

BILL

It takes him quite a bit to fall,, similar thing for the other boys.

He first thinks of you as some fag retard creep-o.

Everytime he saw you he'd groan, throw his head back and complain to his friends who didn't even notice you. Pete would tell him to stop being so obsessed, and then Bill would throw a fit.

Pete will tell you Bill 'likes' you, just to fuck with him.

Though, in all that time, he'd be stalking you online, making a ton of alt accounts for whatever you use most just to see what you're wearing everyday, what new stuff you've bought, which thrift stores you're going to, which hair dye brands you're using; if you find out, you can call him a creep all you want, he doesn't care- or he'll just turn it on you and call you the creep.

He likes you, but he's never going to tell you.

2. PETE

Pete's only issues is you're a boy.. He's no fag! He's no sissy! He's not gonna date a boy tougher than him!

Or.. looks tougher than him. Either way, he's not going to leave you alone about it whenever he sees you.

You're not tougher than him just cuss you dress like that. Even if you try to act like it.

If he can pretend you're a girl, he might be able to be around you without throwing up.

He can't handle having these kinds of emotions, especially when it's not towards a girl. He can ogle a girl all day, but a guy feels different.

That doesn't mean he's going to stop.

Bill keeps commenting about how he's been acting gay lately, but Pete's always one step ahead to punching him in the face.

3. Jerry

He's possibly the only one in the group that doesn't mind you being a guy.

In both ways, he doesn't really mind Bill or Pete calling him gay, and he crushes on you like he would a girl.

He finds the way that you dress interesting, and likes to sometimes wear your sweaters or accessories.

Whenever the boys bully you or him for being gay, he tries to stand up for himself, but he's not very good at it.

He'll take you on so many dates, show you his collection, and ask you to join one of his DnD campaigns, and to make a character. He'll fit you in, one way or another. (Bill's character is getting killed off)

The only club member he lets third wheel is Josh because at a point Josh stops caring about you guys being gay. He just wants free food off you guys.

4. Josh

He's def Bi and just doesn't want to admit it.

He thinks you're super cool but is way too insecure to ask you out- I mean, you're way out of his league!

He wants to talk to you and spend time with you, but even if you hit on him he's going to think it's too good to be true, that you're pranking him or making fun of him.

If you keep insisting, he may let up and go on a date, which only ends up in him acting worse. He's constantly telling you to buzz off, saying you're an embarrassment, but really, he's just embarrassed because Bill found out and has been bullying him about it.

If you get through to him, he'll stop taking it out on you, and hang out with you again.

May or may not date you if you try hard enough.

#headcanon #welcome to eltingville #the eltingville club #eltingville club #pete dinunzio #josh levy #jerry stokes #bill dickey #josh levy x reader #bill dickey x reader #pete dinunzio x reader #jerry stokes x reader

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saltcxrcle · 5 months ago

Text

all alone? ── . ✶ ruby

summary: ruby loves popping in and bothering you at the most inconvenient times

pairings: bi! ruby 2.0 x bi! reader, ruby x gn afab! reader, mentions of samruby, implied future sam x reader warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, no use of 'y/n', fem pronouns are used, mentions of blood, smut with very little plot, masturbation, use of vibrators, voyeurism (slightly dub-con), fingering, squirting, scissoring, some degradation mixed with praise, some aftercare, in the same universe as motel chats but can be read as a standalone, kinda edited; all mistakes are my own word count: 5.7k a/n: ofc my longest fic for spn had to be smut for ruby LMAO. anyways im a freak for ruby and this may or may not be a prelude to something else i plan to write (hint its mentioned in the fic). also i would add more warnings to this fic but i don't want to spoil anything :p anyways enjoy this you freaks <3 ruby masterlist

SOMETIMES, YOU WONDERED why you were even friends with the Winchesters. You were currently standing in the middle of a living room in this seemingly normal suburban house, covered in the blood and guts of the witch that the three of you just killed.

Well, it's more like she spontaneously combusted in front of you, and conveniently, Sam and Dean weren’t in the splash zone of her body imploding, so they were spared from being sprayed by her insides.

There wasn’t any inch of you that wasn’t covered in blood. You cried internally about the chunks of flesh in your hair that you would have to wash out with the weak water pressure of the motel shower later. You were just somewhat glad that you weren’t sharing a room with the boys because you would use up all the hot water without hesitation.

You looked at Sam and Dean—the latter looking like he wanted to laugh at the sight of you while the former had a sympathetic smile on his face at your current state.

You heard Dean trying to stifle a snicker before he saw your fierce glare on him, pretending to clear his throat.

“This funny to you Winchester?” You asked him with a raised brow, a plan formulating in your head as you slowly step toward the older Winchester.

He shook his head, trying to keep a serious face on. “Nope, not at all.” Dean hadn’t registered that you were walking toward him, but Sam, being observant, figured out what you were going to do and took a step back from beside his brother.

You sent him a smile full of mischief. “Then you won’t mind if I do this.” You quickly darted toward him and hugged him tight.

Dean didn’t have enough time to move, so his shirt and flannel were getting covered in the witch's blood, making him groan your name out. Sam started to laugh at his brother’s misfortune, and Dean managed to peel you off after squirming in your grip, and it loosened after giggling at the sound of his whining.

Dean registered that Sam was laughing at him and turned to him, a sly smile on his face. “Hey Sammy, can you come here for a second?”

“I’m good right here actually.” Sam was by the front door, looking ready to run out of the house, not trusting the smile on his brother’s face.

“Awe come on! Your brother just wants a hug.” Just as Dean finished his sentence, he rushed toward Sam.

Sam acted quickly and ran out of the house, Dean’s boisterous laugh filling the air as he chased after his brother. You couldn’t help but smile at the sound. It had been a while since you heard him laugh so freely—the threat of Lilith and the angels had been hanging over the three of you for a while, so it was good to hear the brothers mess around a little and pretend that they didn’t shoulder the weight of the world on their backs.

You looked around the trashed living room, the results of the chaos that occurred when trying to kill the witch. You sighed, your muscles ached, and you could feel the blood drying on your clothes and skin. You glanced around the living room one last time before heading out of the house and smiled when you saw that Dean managed to catch Sam in an embrace—Dean had managed to wrangle Sam’s tall frame into a headlock.

You shook your head as you chuckled to yourself at the scene in front of you. You looked around the quiet and empty neighborhood, reminding you exactly where you were.

You whistled sharply. The high-pitched sound caught the boys’ attention–their heads snapping in your direction.

“We should probably get going, the fight wasn’t exactly quiet.” You told them as Dean let go of Sam, and he straightened up back to his full height.

They both nodded and followed you towards where the Impala was parked on the curb in front of the witch’s house.

“Hey, could you try not to get blood on the seats?”

“Shut up Dean.”

Sam let out a little laugh at your and Dean’s exchange before the three of you piled into the car and sped away from suburbia and towards the motel you guys were staying in. You were pretty uncomfortable the entire twenty minutes you were in the car; the drying blood on your skin wasn’t a pleasant sensation. So when you arrived at the motel, Dean had barely parked the car when you bolted from the vehicle and to your room, eager to wash the blood and guts of the dead witch off of you.

After you were done showering and getting dressed, Dean knocked on your door, asking if you were coming with him and Sam to the bar he saw driving in.

You shook your head. “I’m good. Gonna have an early night in.”

Dean raised an eyebrow at you before nodding. “See you in the morning then.”

“See you in the morning.” You confirmed before the two of you traded smiles, and you closed the door with a soft click.

You let out a small sigh of relief. As much as you loved the boys, you really needed time to yourself. Being confined into a singular room with them and without much privacy led you to feel pent up and sexually frustrated being around two conventionally attractive men at all times.

You weren’t blind to the fact that the Winchesters attracted women (and the occasional man) like moths to a flame. You would have definitely slept with either of them at this point in your years of friendship if you didn’t know any better—which you did.

Which is why you wanted a room for yourself. You remembered the weird looks they shot you when you came back with two room keys instead of one. You explained that you wanted your own room for once and that the money you used wasn’t even yours, so you might as well use it before ditching it for another card.

You made your way over to your bag, having left it out on one of the beds in your room, and grabbed the small drawstring bag that held your trusty vibrator and spare batteries. You tossed the small bag on top of the comforter before placing your duffle on the ground and turning off one of the two lamps that were illuminating the room.

You climbed into bed, getting underneath the duvet and thin sheet that the bed was draped in, grabbed the vibrator out of the bag it was in, and set it beside you.

You laid back and closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into the mattress. Your hands that were lying idle next to you began to wander. Your fingertips skimmed across your bare thighs, slowly trailing up your leg, bypassing the thin shorts you were wearing and up to the hem of your oversized shirt.

You let out a soft, almost shuddering breath as your hands made their way up your shirt and reached your bare breasts. Your eyes closed at the sensation of your hands caressing and squeezing at the flesh.

You pinched at your nipples, letting a quiet moan escape you at the spark of pleasure that zipped down your spine. Your underwear was slowly dampening with your arousal as you played with your breasts, the tension you were feeling melting away as you let desire overtake your senses.

One of your hands left your breast and made its way back down your body and underneath your underwear. Another moan left your lips as your fingertips brushed against your clit. You let your fingers swipe up the slick that was leaking from your slit and wet your sensitive nub before playing with it, rubbing at it with some pressure as you gripped your breast tightly in the other hand. The coil in your belly slowly grew tighter and faster than you had expected.

God, how long had it been since you were able to have some playtime by yourself? You couldn’t even answer your own question as lust clouded any other thought in your brain.

Harsh breaths were accompanied by low moans that escaped you as you rubbed at your clit and played with your nipple, but you didn’t want to finish so early, wanting to wring as much pleasure as you could before you went back to sharing a room with the Winchesters. So you stopped, you let go of your boob, and slowly retracted your hand from underneath your underwear.

You felt hot with the layers on you but didn’t mind it. You quickly grabbed the portable wand vibrator from beside you before taking off your shorts from underneath the covers—getting lost in the sheets somewhere.

You shifted further down on the bed, your head now resting fully on the pillows as you brought the vibrator down to your now slightly swollen clit. A rush of anticipation coursed through you as the soft silicone was rubbing against you. You rubbed the wand head through your slick before letting it rest on your clit and turning it on.

A soft moan left you as the wand vibrated on the lowest setting. You bit your bottom lip at the feeling, a sigh leaving you as you leaned into the sensations that the vibrator sent through your weeping cunt. You were so wound up that you didn’t really need to think about anything to try and get off, but it didn’t mean that your mind wasn’t going to conjure anything up.

You thought back on a wet dream that you had of Sam a while back. It was a little mortifying that you had it while sharing a bed with him (it may have caused you not to look him in the eyes for two days)—but you weren’t in bed with him now. Your lust-riddled brain didn’t care enough about your embarrassment of thinking about it at this very moment.

You don’t remember how the dream started, but what you did was fuel your craving and satiate your lust-driven hunger as you turned the vibration up on the wand.

Sam’s hands felt like they were everywhere as you felt his teeth nipping at the soft skin of your neck—driving into you with slow but measured thrusts, hitting your g-spot with precision.

"That feel good, baby? Like it when I stuff my big cock into your tight cunt?” Sam’s voice was dark, almost mocking you as the slapping of skin filled the air along with your whines.

Louder moans left your mouth as the vibrations surged through you, amplifying the pleasure that was flooding your veins. You could feel your body flushing with heat as you slowly began the descent into your orgasm.

“You feel so good around me. Gonna fill you up so much.” Sam groaned into your ear before it turned into a grunt, feeling you squeeze around him tightly.

Sam chuckled. “You want me to fill you up with my cum huh?”

You moaned in response, gripping his shoulders tight as he rammed into you. But a whine erupted from your chest when he halted in his thrusts.

He wrapped his free hand around your throat, your eyes flying open at the feeling, meeting his fiery gaze— a roguish smirk on his face.

“Answer me.”

“Yes, please Sam fill me up. I want it so bad.”

“Good girl.” Sam said before pulling you into a rough kiss and resuming his thrusting, going harder and faster than before—making a choked squeal escape your lips at how rough he was being, but you didn’t mind it for a second.

The coil in you was about to snap. You just needed a little more—

“Hmm, didn’t expect this when I decided to drop by.”

The sudden (and unwanted) voice in your room made you halt in your ministrations. Your eyes flew open as you dropped the wand in between your legs. You shot up from your position on the bed to see Ruby standing by the edge of the bed you were in with a sly smirk on her face—her arms crossed as her dark brown eyes looked over your hot and bothered figure.

A scowl made its way onto your lips. “What the fuck Ruby! Why are you here?”

The demon shrugged. “Well I was here to tell you some info I got on Lilith, but I see interrupted something.”

“You think?” You couldn’t help but grumble. The scowl was still ever-present on your face and deepened further at her words. “Couldn’t you have told Sam instead of ambushing me in my room? Besides, I thought he was your favorite out of the three of us.”

Ruby’s eyes glinted with amusement as her head tilted slightly. “I don’t have favorites, but I will say you climbed up the list from the other time I saw you.”

You knew exactly what she was referring to and narrowed your eyes at her, trying to ignore the fact that she ruined your orgasm and that you were half-naked underneath the blanket.

“Great! I’m so honored that I’ve climbed the ranks.” You snarked as you rolled your eyes. “Sam’s at the bar with Dean, you can tell him there.”

“But I wanted to tell you first.”

“Well, I’m a little busy.”

“Yeah, so busy.” Ruby scoffed at you, uncrossing her arms and settling one of her hands on her hip. “Getting off is a pathetic excuse to try and avoid me.”

Your jaw clenched. “Just get to the point Ruby so we can go our separate ways.”

Ruby pursed her lips before a sly smile grew on her face. “I tell you what I know if you tell me what you were thinking about when you were playing with yourself.”

“What the fuck? No! What is wrong with you?” You looked at her aghast.

Ruby just chuckled at your expression before taking off her leather jacket and starting to crawl up the bed. You couldn’t help but sit up as she slowly made her way to you.

“Come on, its a fair trade don’t you think?” She was on her knees by your side.

“I think our definitions of fair are very different. Besides, you came here to tell me something, not the other way around.”

Ruby rolled her eyes at you as she leaned closer to you. “You’re a real stickler for semantics.”

“Yeah, and you’re a real pain in my ass.”

Ruby chuckled again and leaned even closer to you, her breath fanning over your lips. “You sure know how to sweet talk a girl.”

“It’s not sweet talking when you’re a demon.”

“Really? Not sweet talking? Then why aren’t you leaning away from me?”

You swallowed thickly. You honestly don’t know why you weren’t revolted by the close proximity of the demon in front of you.

Maybe it was the familiar scent of mint, leather, and tequila that brought you back to the night when the two of you slept with each other for the first time, which made you not recoil from Ruby. Or maybe it was because you were still horny, and you had a feeling that Ruby wanted a repeat of what happened last time.

A beat of silence settled between the two of you. Ruby’s eyes flickered from your lips back to your eyes. You couldn’t help but do the same thing, focusing on the plushness of her lips. You remember how soft and warm they were against yours. You blinked before meeting her gaze once more.

“You’re so fucking annoying.” You breathed out before reaching up, grabbing Ruby’s neck, and kissing her roughly.

Ruby couldn’t help but smirk against your lips before kissing you back with the same intensity. She pulled away the duvet that was covering your bare legs before shoving you down back on the bed.

You were a bit breathless from the kiss but barely had time to catch your breath before Ruby’s lips descended back on yours again. Her tongue delved into your mouth, familiarizing herself with your taste again as Ruby slotted herself in between your open legs—her jean-clad center brushing against your bare core.

The harsh material of the denim brushing against your clit made you moan into Ruby’s mouth. Her hands made their way up your legs and to the hem of your shirt. Ruby made quick work of your shirt, her lips leaving yours as she aggressively pulled it off of you, leaving you completely bare to her.

Ruby’s eyes zeroed in on your pussy. It was practically glistening underneath the dim lighting of the room. Her lips quirked up into a smirk before leaning down and pressing her lips against your neck, nipping and sucking at the skin—Ruby’s hands caressing your sides and hips before trailing her lips over the smooth skin of your breasts. She bit lightly at the swell of you breast before she slinked down your body, wet kisses following in their wake.

Your breathing became labored as Ruby reached your cunt. Her kisses were light and teasing in between the soft skin of your inner thighs. She kept you distracted with her teasing kisses. Ruby grabbed the vibrator you were using early and turned it back on, the low hum grabbing your attention.

Your eyes fluttered open, and before you could say anything, Ruby put the silicone head against your clit—a low moan replacing any words that would have fallen from your lips.

Ruby pulled away from your thigh, eyes flickering between your face and leaking pussy. She turned it up to medium speed, a louder moan leaving you at the more intense sensation running through you. Your once-ruined orgasm came hurdling back, the coil winding tighter and tighter and threatening to snap.

“You going to tell me about what you were thinking about earlier?.” Ruby hummed out.

“Y-you mean before you so rudely interrupted?” You could barely spit the words out. Pleasure overwhelmed your senses. “N-not going to h-happen.”

Ruby let out a low chuckle, moving the vibrating head from your clit and running in through your wet slit, lubricating it. “Should’ve known you were going to be stubborn about it.” She murmured before ripping the toy away from you completely.

A frustrated groan left you as you squeezed your eyes shut. This was the third time that you were on the cusp of an orgasm, and honestly, you were close to just pushing Ruby away and doing the job yourself. There was no way you were telling her anything about what you were thinking about.

“The sooner you tell me the sooner you can come.” Ruby was rubbing the slightly slick head of the toy in the crease of your hips. She could tell you were wearing down on the idea, so she put the toy back on your clit.

A pleasure gasp left you. “I- fuck. I was thinking about the last time we slept together.” You were not going to tell her the truth if your life depended on it.

Ruby laughed softly. ““Hmm, I’d be flattered if you were telling the truth.” She moved the toy away from you again before moving up your body, stopping when her clothed figure was draped over yours.

“Tell me the truth and I’ll make you come. It’s as simple as that.” Ruby had a saccharine smile as she batted her eyelashes almost coquettishly at you.

Your lips twisted up in a snarl, irritation flooding your features as you stared at Ruby.

“I bet you were thinking about Sam fucking you.” Ruby’s words made your stomach twist.

You cleared your throat roughly.” How did you-”

“Spells come in handy babe.” Ruby winked at you before moving back down in between your legs again.

You vaguely remember Sam mentioning who Ruby was before she became a demon, and you could only imagine what she did to know what you were thinking about. You jumped at the sudden sensation of buzzing again your already abused clit.

“Was Sam eating you out? Or was he fucking you?” You couldn’t help but clench around nothing at her words. You had no idea why this kind of talk was turning you on so much.

Ruby nipped at your thigh. “Answer me.”

You let out a moan at the familiar words. “Shit, h-he was fucking me.”

“Mmm, hard and rough right? That’s how he usually fucks me.” The sudden image of Sam and Ruby fucking increased the pleasure you were feeling. A keening whine erupted from your chest at the feeling of Ruby’s fingers filling you alongside the toy that was pressed hard against your sensitive nub.

“Ooh, you like that? Do you like the thought of me and Sam fucking each other? Oh who am I kidding, I can feel you clench around my fingers like the whore that you are.”

Ruby’s dexterous fingers were able to find your g-spot with ease and hit it with deadly accuracy. You could feel an unfamiliar but not unwelcome pressure building in your lower abdomen. Your moans echoed throughout the room, along with the buzz of the vibrator against your swollen clit.

“So needy, wanting to fuck me and him at the same time. I bet Sam would like the idea of you joining us.” Ruby cooed, but it almost fell deaf on your ears as your orgasm was building and threatening to spiral out of control.

“I can see it now, Sam fucking you from behind as you eat me out. Or you sitting on his face as I ride him. It sounds like a whole lot of fun to me.” A wide grin was on her face as Ruby felt you squeeze her fingers hard as moans tumbled from your lips.

The scenarios that Ruby was describing were vivid in your mind. The pressure in your abdomen burst, and you all but shouted in pleasure, your orgasm blinding any and all of your senses.

Ruby let out a breathy laugh at the sight of you squirting—soaking the toy, her fingers, and your thighs. She kept moving her fingers in and out of you slowly but removed the toy from your clit and turned it off, tossing it on the other side of the bed.

You could faintly feel a dampness between your legs, but you paid no mind to it as you tried to recover from the pleasure overload you just experienced. You’ve never come that hard before, and it took you a bit to try to calm down. You heard rustling coming from Ruby, but you ignored her as you inhaled deeply and exhaled shakily.

By the time you recovered and peeled your eyes open, you were met with the sight of a nude Ruby hovering over you. You took in her vessel’s tanned skin that was dotted with beauty marks, matching the ones on her face.

“Like what you see?” Ruby teased as her lips brushed against yours.

You didn’t bother with replying, not wanting to give her any kind of satisfaction of a response. Instead, you lifted your head up to capture her lips between yours. It was a softer kiss compared to the ones you shared earlier, but it did the job.

Ruby sunk into the kiss as you reached for her waist. One of your hands made its way up her back, scratching it lightly before you grabbed some of the hair at the nape of her neck and pulled at it. She moaned lightly into your mouth as the two of you kissed.

Ruby pulled away from the kiss, nipping at your bottom lip before removing herself entirely from you. She sat up and grabbed your left leg, moving it so your legs were wide open and maneuvered, so she was almost straddling your leg, but you understood her intention immediately.

Before she could place her pussy against yours, you brought up your hand and rubbed at her wet slit. Fuck she was soaked. You immediately inserted two of your fingers into her.

Ruby let out a husky moan at the feeling of your fingers filling her up, and you pumped them in and out of her a couple of times before she swatted at your hand, making you retract your hand from within her.

You let out a small laugh before it turned into a moan as Ruby placed her wet cunt against yours. She let out a satisfied sigh at the feeling of your pussy rubbing against hers. Ruby started a slow grind against you, moans and whines leaving the both of you as the two of you scissored.

“Fuck, babe, you feel so good against me.” Ruby’s voice was thick with pleasure as her hips started to pick up speed. “We need to do this more often.”

You couldn’t answer her but grabbed her hips to help her move against you. You slapped her ass before gripping it tight and trying to create more friction for the two of you. The two of you were uncaring about how loud you guys were as the both of you surrendered to the desire running through your veins.

Although Ruby was feeling her orgasm building, she felt like something was missing. Her eyes went to the toy she just used on you earlier before meeting your eyes. You caught on to what Ruby wanted, so she stopped her movements so you could grab your vibrator.

Once you did, you turned it on—Ruby lifted her hips from yours so you could place the toy in between the two of you before she lowered herself again.

“Fuck!” You and Ruby exclaimed simultaneously. Your moans got even louder with the added addition of the vibrator in between the two of you. You held on to it while your other hand rested on her hips—Ruby’s hands were on your left leg, using it as leverage as her hips moved rapidly.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum.” You managed to say in between your moans. You could feel the familiar coil winding up in your abdomen.

Ruby nodded. “Fuck, yeah same m’close.” She started to grind harder against you and the toy, sending more heat down your spine, and the tell-tale sign of your orgasm was soon approaching.

“Come with me.” You said as you squeezed her hip hard, your nails biting into her skin. The sharp sting of pain sent a bolt of pleasure down her spine as she nodded.

Ruby’s hips began to stutter and falter as her orgasm hit her, but she was able to keep moving against you, and you soon followed her; your grip on the wand fell. Your and Ruby’s moans filled the motel room as you came together.

Ruby was barely able to lift herself away from your soaked overstimulated pussy. She fell on top of your relaxed leg, pinning it to the bed as you fumbled with the vibrator, just barely mustering up the ability to turn it off.

The room felt warm as labored breaths filled the silence between you and the demon. After Ruby caught her breath, she lifted herself off of your leg, and when she looked back, you were fast asleep. She let out a low chuckle at the sight of you.

Ruby got up from the bed, grabbed your vibrator, and went into the bathroom, cleaning herself quickly and the toy before using a warm, damp washcloth and going back into your room and cleaning you up. You barely stirred as she did, and once she was done, Ruby moved you to the spare bed in your room.

Her stare lingered on your serene face before shaking her head. If Sam’s puppy dog eyes couldn’t make her cold body feel warm then she couldn’t make an exception for his friend. Ruby quickly left your room, trying to drill into her mind the real reason why she was there and “helping out” the Winchesters. But it didn’t mean she couldn’t have fun with you and Sam before everything unfolded.

BONUS!

⤷ Sam’s POV:

Dean had ditched him at the bar, finding someone to go home with the night. He had tossed him the keys and sent him a wink before following the brunette that captured his attention for the night.

Sam shook his head at his brother, but he was glad that he could sleep in a bed tonight and not in the Impala. Soon after Dean left, Sam didn’t feel the need to stay at the bar any longer, so he made his way to the Impala.

Sam secretly wished that you had come with them so he didn’t have to deal with Dean alone, but he understood why you didn’t come after Dean told him when he got back in the room they were sharing before leaving for the bar.

The drive to the motel was pretty short, and Sam was ready to relax and decompress from today’s events. He made his way to his room, glancing at your door briefly. He was debating on knocking on your door but refrained, knowing that you were tired from the day that you had.

Sam unlocked the room, stepped into the dimly lit room, and closed the door behind him. He shrugged off his jacket and tossed it on the edge of the bed next to him as he sat down—the bed spring creaking under the sudden weight. He laid back on the bed, attempting to sink into the stiff mattress before letting out a low sigh.

Sam’s eyes fluttered shut. He wanted to rest for a bit—Sam wasn’t in a rush to get ready for bed since he didn’t have to fight for the shower with Dean.

The room was relatively quiet, save for the occasional car driving down the street. Sam could feel the exhaustion pulling at him, and as tempting as it was to succumb to the feeling, he wanted to shower the day off.

But before he could get up from the bed, a muffled moan caught his attention. Sam sat up slowly, his brows furrowing at the sudden sound. But it shouldn’t surprise him that people were having sex in this motel and the fact that the walls were thin enough to hear the noises.

Another moan filtered into his ears. It was louder this time and seemingly closer. He shook his head and went to get up from the bed before the moans grew louder and louder, and he realized it was coming from the room next to him. Your room.

His eyes widened. Oh. Sam thought as he tried to ignore your whines through the thin walls of the motel rooms. Is that why you didn’t want to come with them to the bar? Because you needed to relieve your sexual frustration, and that’s why you got a separate room from them? Now your shortness with him and Dean made more sense.

Sam’s mind ran through these thoughts as the moans kept growing in volume. A sharp squeal echoed into his room, and he couldn’t help his body’s reaction to the noises coming from your room, his cock hardening in his jeans. Sam knew that he should stop listening in and go into the bathroom and take the coldest shower to man until you eventually stopped or fell asleep.

But his slightly inebriated state didn’t want him to move from his spot. He swallowed hard before unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans. Sam barely pulled down his jeans and boxers—just enough to pull his cock out, now fully hard and beginning to leak precum.

Sam spit into his hand before slowly stroking his length. A low sigh left his lips as he fell back onto the bed. Fuck you sounded so good. His eyes closed involuntarily as his eyes provided him images of you splayed out on the bed, playing with your pretty pussy— it had to be. There wasn't an inch of you that he didn’t admire— a groan left him as his hand slowly sped up, letting the lust he felt run through him and warm him inside and out.

Then there was a loud shout of pleasure before there was a lull of silence in the room, making him halt in his stroking—his hand still on the base of his cock. Sam had to strain his ears to try and hear your low voice through the walls, but couldn’t decipher what you were saying. Did you have someone else in the room with you? He couldn’t help but feel a spark of irritation at the thought as envy filled his veins.

“Fuck!” He heard you exclaim through the walls. It sounded louder than it should have, but then a higher-pitched moan came through the wall. Why did it sound familiar? The thought was a fleeting one before he started to fuck his fist again.

Sam expected a deeper moan following what he assumed to be your noises, but it was a more feminine moan that came after yours. Sam’s face flushed with heat, and thrusted into his hand harder when he realized that you were with another woman. Shit, that’s hot. Fuck I wish I was in her room watching them right now.

The moans grew louder and louder, and Sam could feel his orgasm fast approaching—his dick was twitching in his hand, and more precum trickled from his tip and down his length, using it as a lubricant along with his spit.

“Shit, I’m gonna cum.” Sam heard you say through the wall.

“Come f’me pretty girl.” Sam murmured in response. He felt his balls draw up as his abs clenched in anticipation—feeling his pleasure zip up his spine.

A low grunt left his lips at the sound of your keening whine that practically reverberated off the walls and directly into his ears. Warm spurts of his cum coated his hand and some landed on his lower stomach—Sam had managed to pull up his shirt right before he came. He was grateful that he did, not wanting a ribbing from Dean the next time they went to do laundry.

Sam laid down on the bed for a moment, trying to recollect himself. Both rooms were silent, so he assumed that you and your partner for the night had fallen asleep.

Sam got up from the bed, tucking himself back into his pants, and quickly made his way to the bathroom. He hastily stripped off his clothes and got into the shower, trying to ignore the guilt that was settling in his gut as he cleaned off his cum and the rest of the day off.

Post-nut clarity was a bitch.

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moviecritc · 1 year ago

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Hi I don't know if you write about Charles and Alexandra, but what about something based in obsessed by olivia rodrigo, in a more sapphic way, maybe reader and alex can make out or something. also if you can mix it with smau would be super cool 💕

obsessed ⋆ charles leclerc, alexandra saint mleux

pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader (various fc) x alexandra saint mleux

warnings: some bad words for the three of them (it was for the sake of the plot, nothing to harsh)

a/n: i made her a singer to add more drama. also i loooved this idea, i've been wanting to write something like this so much, thanks for requesting it <33

Remember that requests are open 💕💕

masterlist | wattpad | letterboxd

yourusername just posted!

liked by sabrinacarpenter, charlesleclerc and 145,824 others

yourusername some visuals from the Paris music video 💜🩷💙

view all comments

user1 i felt so seen in the first verses of the song, i'm also a sucker for gossip

charlesleclerc 💜😍

user2 so dry

user3 what is someone so cool like yn dating someone so boring and simple like charles

user4 graduated in cuntology with a master in slayfication and cum laude in mother is mothering 101

sabrinacarpenter princess of glittery gel pen songs 💜💜💜💜

user5 IM SO IN LOVE

user5 that i might stop breathing

user6 yn using paris as a joke bc charles is monegasque is beyond cuteness

user7 GOALS.

user8 imagine having YN LN as a gf and NOT POSTING HER leclerc you better watch out

user9 it's giving taylor and joe

user10 THE HEARTSSS never beating bi allegations

When Y/N saw the Instagram notification, curiosity got the better of her. Just curiosity. She and Charles had been dating for almost six months, and this was the girl he had been with before her, so she simply wanted to know who she was. She scrolled through her posts, seeing the life she had after breaking up with Charles; she worked at a museum in Monaco and at the same time was an influencer.

Looking at her photos, she realized she was very beautiful. Very, very beautiful. Her hair was healthy, long, and a gorgeous dark brown, her body was perfect, the clothes fit her great, and she had a very sweet voice. She wondered why Charles had ended things with Alexandra.

Then, as she scrolled through her highlighted stories, she accidentally liked one. Y/N immediately threw her phone down. "Shit," she said, grimacing. "Shit, shit, shit." She picked up the phone again and saw the red heart on a photo of Alexandra in a bikini with a beautiful sunset in the background. Y/N stared at the photo for a moment and then removed the like.

She ran her hands over her face, feeling like an idiot. Alexandra would still see the notification, then she would see that Y/N had removed the like, and she would probably think she was weird. Or worse, she could message Charles, asking what his girlfriend was doing stalking her profile.

Charles was at the Grand Prix of Canada at that moment, she was in Monaco. The time difference was huge, and she wasn't going to bother him with this nonsense. So she decided to message Alexandra directly.

Y/N couldn't stop thinking about Alexandra for the rest of the day. She found herself a couple of times staring at her pictures, she knew that Alex lived in Monaco and that they could bump into each other anytime. That idea felt amazing. She seemed like a gorgeous person, and the little chit chat they had felt really comfortable, even when Alex was her boyfriend's ex.

Y/N didn't mention any of this to Charles, he probably just make a big deal of it and they would have a discussion. And she was too lazy to think about arguments.

So she wrote a song. For the nexts days she focused on the lyrics and when Y/N handed the papers to her producer, they loved it. As soon as they could they recorded the song.

When Charles came back from the race, he found Y/N staying after midnight in the studio so she could finish the song. And he didn't complaint, because he really thought the song was about him.

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yourusername 'obsessed' is now yours, with the mv starring @alexademie 🍒🍸💎

the comments have been restricted

alexademie so proud of this project 🤧💙

sabrinacarpenter MISS? i was not expecting this at all and it was so so good 😩😩

gracieabrams QUEEN. in capitals and screaming.

chappelroan so cunty, so hot, so sapphic.

laufey ok now IM obsessed with YOU.

She didn't even think it was a bad idea until she saw her. They had decided to meet at a private club in Monaco; Alex wore a black satin dress that fit her extremely well, with her hair loose as she had seen so often in photos and a sparkling gaze. Y/N felt stupid for only wearing a white top and jeans.

"You showed up," Alexandra said with a smirk.

"You thought I wouldn't come?" she asked, matching her expression. Alexandra lowered her head, saying nothing and tucking her hair behind her ear. Y/N went to the bar and ordered a round of shots, although she didn't need to get drunk to do what she was about to do.

She drank one and then watched as Alexandra imitated her.

"Where did you leave Charles?" Alexandra asked, pulling her to a sofa area. The club wasn't very crowded, but more people would start arriving soon.

Y/N clicked her tongue. "Charles is the last person I want to talk about right now, honestly."

"You're right," Alexandra agreed as she nodded. "Let's talk about the song, then."

Y/N looked at her with a silly smile, trying very hard not to feel embarrassed. Although she knew she had nothing to be embarrassed about, she could see from Alex's expression that she had liked the song.

"What did you think?" she asked, sipping her cocktail.

"I loved it. I never thought someone would write songs about me," she lowered her gaze a little and then Y/N noticed how she had the tip of her heel circling around her foot.

"Did Charles ever dedicate any of his piano songs to you?" Y/N asked, furrowing her brow a little.

"Charles never even dedicated time to me," Alexandra looked away a bit.

Y/N nodded, perfectly understanding what Alexandra was talking about. Charles was too focused on his career, and unless you asked him, he could completely ignore you for weeks or change plans you had been planning for months because he had to train. That was the kind of person Charles was. At first, it had been a dream, accompanying him to his races and spending time with him, but when you scheduled a tour to be able to attend most of his races and he didn't show up at almost any of your concerts… It affected you.

"Men," Y/N said simply, rolling her eyes.

"Exactly! They're unbelievable, in the worst sense of the word," Alex spoke, slightly laughing.

They fell silent for a few moments, not breaking eye contact. The music had been turned up, and they were bathed in purple and green lights, moving around the room. Alexandra almost glowed for Y/N's eyes; under that lighting, everything seemed unreal. She leaned toward her, but didn't make the final move, wanting Alex to take that step.

Alexandra smiled mischievously and pressed their lips together. It was a calm kiss, not too long but their lips touched enough to explore them calmly, and for Y/N to remember the slight scent of red licorice from Alex's cologne.

As they separated, Alexandra got as close as possible to Y/N, resting her head on her shoulder. "Are you drunk?" Y/N questioned, fearing for a moment that it was all an act of alcohol.

"No," she denied vehemently.

Y/N didn't think much more about it, discreetly grabbed her phone to text Charles that it was best for them to end their relationship. She and Alexandra kissed a couple more times that night.

Five months later

alexandrasaintmleux just posted a story!

[caption 1: opening night 🍒 @yourusername] [caption 2: best view 💖]

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juricel · 5 months ago

Text

a/n: a request but i may or may not have accidentally posted the draft and deleted it in panic, im so sorry to the original requester if you see this, please correct me if i'm wrong with something! I didn't properly memorize the phrasing of the ask.

original ask: "may i request yan!shadow milk cookie with an immortal!f/o who keeps dying to him but the more they die they grow resilient and fight back?"

— yandere! shadow milk cookie x immortal! reader hcs

໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა ۪ ׂ CONTENT WARNING: manipulation, mild gore, murder, body horror, heavy obsessive and possessive behavior, kidnapping, body horror, emotional abuse, physical abuse, violence, unhealthy relationship, implied forced established relationship, implied mindbreak, potential ooc.

𖦁‎ shadow milk cookie adores every single part of you; your face, your personality, your appearance, your voice, your habits, everything—but oh, one thing that he loves about you most is when you are dead inside, aching, petrified, and falling apart.

𖦁‎ he doesn't mean to be cruel, really! it was meant to be a silly little experiment, a test of your immortality upon learning you were unable to die out of pure curiosity. However, when he crumbled you, his sweet dear, apart, oh he witnessed true beauty; you were a sight beyond manevolent, a bewitching visage, a pulchritudinously splendous piece of art. he, knelt in a puddle of hot, sweet blood, aching smile pitted against aching smile, caress your ichor-stained skin oh so gently, smudging the crimson over your now turning pale flesh—you were ravishing, organs lay splayed, tears prickling through the corner of eyes, red branching out across the sclera of your eyes, bloodied, bruised, and beneath /his/ mercy... ah, it was the illustrious form of beauty. he doesn't mean to get addicted, but oh, the sight of you... slope of stomach inwards, hip bones protruding through thin skin unnaturally, diaphragm and ribs sticking sickenly, and each bone present like a mountain range on the plateau of your pectorals; the way your scars turn beautiful, thrumming pink, and fade dark into a luscious shade of near-blue when cold; the vibrancy of your blood as it trickles down your tainted flesh... he just couldn't get enough of it! the more he thought of it, the more he got giddy.

𖦁‎ surely, you wouldn't mind him trying it out once more, don't you? it's not like you have a choice regardless! not when you're tied up and confined within his clutches. with a hand caressing your cheeks, he whispers sweet nothings, thumb stroking the contour of your cheekbones as he digs in his nails into the rake of your skin; cutting, mangling, butchering, dismembering, and lacerating your body as if it were a doll made to be withered—mutilating until what remains were cadaver. oh, you were just beyond adorable, weren't you? how can he not be a little mean to you when you were so endearing like this? the sight of you like this overwhelms him with desire, oh, how he craved to tear you apart, to bite and scratch your neck until leisons form and crimson seeps, to claw his way through your dermis until you scream in agony, blood staining his fingertips; a sight only he, himeslf could witness and he would make sure of that.

𖦁‎ he promises to be kind, to be gentle as he bashes your legs in, but he just couldn't help it! oh, but it's fine, isn't it? it's not like you were gonna crumble away from it all eternally! so he doesn't understand. why must you rebel against him? can't you see that he was doing this in an overwhelming exasperation of love for you? or was it because it was painful? oh, no it wasn't! you're just overreacting. it doesn't hurt. don't get him mistaken! he adores watching you struggle, takes fulfillment seeing you defiant even but when you manage to escape his grasp? oh, that is when his anger escalates.

𖦁 he's sorry, so so sorry! really, he's sorry, he won't kill you anymore, he promises! just don't leave from his sight ever again, in soft murmurs and thinly veiled bitter words he would whisper, tracing his bloodied fingers against the curve of your jaw, kissing away your vulgar defiance as he holds your body as stiff as a clay, unmoving and unresponsive, eyes unfocused.

a/n: not quite proud of this one, i hope it's fine, however! i do think this one is much more darker than my previous work but then again, it's a yandere work so it's probably alright.

#please hit him back #shadow milk cookie x reader #shadow milk x reader #crk x reader #cookie run x reader #yandere shadow milk cookie x reader #cookie run kingdom x reader #juricel works #i wrote this instead of listening to my online class

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acesdiary · 5 months ago

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Zoro/ straw hats and reader where he finds out law is their older sibling (either biologically or in spirit) how would he react?

Brother?!

⚔︎ notes: thanks for requesting anon! sorry this took so long to come out, tumblr didn’t save my draft so I had to restart 😔 happy valentines!

⚔︎ warnings: none, jealous zoro, bi sanji

⚔︎ parings: monster trio x gn!reader

» masterlist | rules

Luffy

— GASP

— I feel like that thought wouldn’t even cross his mind even if you were distinctly similar in traits or appearance.

— like you could have the same eyes and jet black hair and he would just think of you, his lovely crewmate.

— a broody captain who is always grouching, compared to his lover who is open to chaos and ‘activities’

— he would be oblivious to this discovery until you or the crew mentioned it to him

— lol he would just go :0

— one day you’re just like ‘oh yeah law is my brother’ but im pretty sure the crew could tell by the similarities between you two while bro is just oblivious.

— even if in spirit or biologically, you are his y/n.

— his pookie

— his cuddle buddy

****

Zoro

— bro does not care

— im pretty sure he would think nothing of it until he saw the side by side

— he would feel a bit dense at first because he couldn’t tell from earlier but still

— I think when he first saw you clinging to law n hugging him a fire burned in his stomach

— pride is vanished.

— but then he realized.

— black hair, brown eyes, pale ahh skin, eyebags..

— his heart fell to his ass

— SIBLINGS

— afterwards he didn’t really mind that yall were siblings and completely forgot 💀

****

Sanji

— our bi king is already choosing who to keep 👑

— BUT HOW

— SUCH A WONDERFUL PERSON.

— RELATED TO A LADY KILLER 😭

— BACK DEMON, BACK!!

— *cries in blonde*

— apart from that I think it would be a dramatic display

— but he just becomes even more perverted to the both of you

— i mean what do you do with your lover and a brooding mess?

©acesdiary

#one piece x reader #luffy x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #sanji x reader #update

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starrluvs · 2 years ago

Text

𝐋𝐈𝐍 𝐊𝐔𝐄𝐈 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐎 + 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆

summary: just complete thirst about the lin kuei brothers and you sitting on their face

cw: afab reader, oral (fem receiving), facesitting, established relationships, submissive/bottom tomas, (literally my religion omg), tomas cums just from eating you out :( , mdni !

wc: 1k

a/n: im ovulating and i just had to write this omg im sorry this is so self indulgent

𝐁𝐈-𝐇𝐀𝐍 | 𝐒𝐔𝐁-𝐙𝐄𝐑𝐎

being the eldest brother and grandmaster of the lin kuei, bi-han has had his fair share of experience with sexual encounters. and as much as he’s been on the receiving end of oral, he’ll only give back to a partner he deems worthy of his love and time. getting to this point with bi-han took some time, but it was sure as hell worth it.

bi-han’s cold tongue had no mercy on your quivering state as he continued to flick your clit in all sorts of motions and patterns. you were instructed to hold your orgasm because you knew bi-han loved it most when you came around his cock and milked him, but he definitely wasn’t making this easy for you.

the tips of his fingers were starting to grow frost as they dug into the flesh of your thighs and ass. despite you being on top, the cryomancer controlled your pace with the way he rocked your hips back and forth. as always, he was in control while he worked his magic.

suddenly his actions on your clit came to a halt. you were going to let out a sigh of relief and calm yourself down for a moment, but bi-han had no intentions of letting that happen. with a loud yelp, you unexpectedly feel the cryomancer’s strength and he positions your hole directly to his tongue and your clit to the tip of nose.

with no time for you to breathe, bi-han dives straight in and runs his tongue around your gummy walls. the feeling of his cold muscle inside of you made you squeal and jerk your hips on instinct– ultimately causing your clit to smudge against his nose, making you gasp and arch your back.

bi-han groans and pulls your pussy deeper into his face, making you feel the vibrations course around your groin. the grip on your hips was now deadly as the cryomancer denied you of moving your hips at all. he continued to feast on you as if you were his last meal–

and maaaybe you accidentally came on the spot without his permission… (you were totally in for it now.)

𝐊𝐔𝐀𝐈 𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐆 | 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐏𝐈𝐎𝐍

this man is a pussy eating champ. when compared to his brothers, he easily has the most skilled tongue– and that means you’re in for one hell of a treat. unlike his older brother, kuai liang’s favourite pastime is pleasuring you and that pussy of yours that he’s head over heels for.

kuai liang’s hands reached up to fondle your breasts as he moved his tongue in and out of you repeatedly. your back was arched as your hands grabbed onto the headboard for support to hold yourself up. the obscene slurping sounds that came from kuai liang’s actions bounced off the walls and flooded your ears, only heightening your arousal.

as he continued exploring your velvety walls, you feel the pyromancer take your nipples between his index and thumbs. you squeal at the feeling of your sensitive buds being tended to and your hands shoot down to tangle your fingers through his dark locks– which was messily undone from his usual well-kept bun while some free strands stuck to his forehead.

kuai liang moans in response to your hands gripping tightly at his hair, and you can feel the intensity growing more by each second that passes. he’s done this more than enough times with you to know when you were close. he could tell just by the way you slurred out his name.

once telling you to let go, he grabs your hands away from his hair and intertwines his fingers with yours. his brown orbs dont break eye contact with you, and you know exactly what he’s expecting you to do–

as if you two could read each other’s minds, kuai liang sticks his tongue out and flattens it, encouraging you to chase your orgasm. and of course, you do as he wants. your hips rock (almost uncontrollably) back and forth against his warm tongue. your back arched, head rolled back… and those pornographic moans escaped your lips…kuai liang’s eyes stayed on you the entire time.

he could truly spend eternity beneath you, nose deep in your pussy.

𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐒 𝐕𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐃𝐀 | 𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄

the youngest of the three was most likely the least dominant compared to his brothers. most of your sexual encounters with tomas consisted of you being in charge and praising him like the good boy he was- especially if you're sitting on his face.

his head was cushioned between your thighs as your warm pussy rocked against his face– back and forth. back and forth. back and forth. your pace was under control as you kept yourself calm and composed… which was the complete opposite of the czech assassin smothered beneath you.

he was a complete mess under you and you loved it. his tongue was messily lapping up all your juices that were also trailing down to his chin, neck, and some that even spilled on the bridge and tip on his nose.

tomas’ moans and whimpers were muffled by your pussy that was practically suffocating him, causing you to let out a small moan yourself before teasing him about how loud he’s being. in response, you hear him struggle to muster out an apology, but that wouldn't matter…

noticing that you were wearing nothing else but an oversized shirt from tomas’ wardrobe, you mischievously smile down at the youngest lin kuei brother. his doe grey orbs looked up at you, trying to clear the daze in his head to figure out what you were thinking.

though, the last thing you seen was his eyes widen slightly before you push your (his) shirt over his head, denying him to see anything– trapping him completely with your pussy. all you do is continue to moan and grind his face, telling him how good he was for still pleasuring you.

while striving to snap that coil in your stomach, you completely stop your motions as tomas lets out an obscene, muffled whimper. you feel something from behind splat on your lower back and ass. looking back to see what happened, you couldnt help but giggle–

tomas was panting heavily from the way his chest heaved up and down, and his seed was spilled all over his stomach, which also landed on you… he truly was the cutest.

#bi han #kuai liang #tomas vrbada #bi han x reader #kuai liang x reader #tomas vrbada x reader #sub zero #scorpion mk #smoke mk #mortal kombat #mortal kombat smut #mortal kombat x reader

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barcameowski · 7 months ago

Text

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 ⁻ ruben dias

genre: smau

pairing: ruben dias x reader!established relationship

face claim: flavy barla

warnings: none

𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽𐬼𐬽

liked by rubendias , joaofelix79 , ivandias03 and 298,000 others

yourusername: gorgeous view, oh and rubens there

view comments

rubendias: wow.

⇝ yourusername: its okay, i still like u

⇝ rubendias: LIKE? YOU’RE MY GIRLFRIEND

user1: i love this relationship

user2: god really does have his favorites

user3: hot boyfriend + even hotter girlfriend

user4: im so jealous

user5: hes so papi coded

⇝ user6: ....dats...bold

yourfriend: where you staying at mamacita?

⇝ yourusername: *insert radio rebel meme*

ivandias03: i like you more and more every day

⇝ yourusername: im flattered, but i have a boyfriend. sorry

⇝ ivandias03: ....

user7: we've all seen the pictures. shes absolutely stunning, and hes...there

user8: my bi awakening

⇝ user9: my goal in life is to date one of them. i dont care which one

user10: i dont get the hype about her

user11: BOOM SHAKALAKAAAA

user12: i want this kind of relationship

user13: when i grow up i wanna be like yn (im 26)

liked by rubendias , carlossainz55 , sophiaaemilia and 319,000 others

yourusername: apparently not a ’bowling night’ outfit 😔

view comments

rubendias: thats not what i said

⇝ yourusername: thats exactly what you said

⇝ rubendias: meu amor i said you looked great

rubendias: o mais bonita 😍

⇝ yourusername: eu amo te velho 🥰

user1: their banter is so cute

user2: hannah montana said nobodys perfect, but here she is

sophiaaemilia: pretty 🤩

⇝ yourusername: youuuuu

user3: i love women

user4: the comments made me realize I’m so single and depressed

user5: perfect people don’t deserve perfect relationships 😭😭😭😭

user6: I fear I’m more in love than ruben

user7: he definitely isn’t winning on the field but he’s winning off the field

⇝ liked by rubendias

user8: all wags are gorgeous PROVE ME WRONG

user9: I need 90 minutes to rethink my entire life and any decisions I have ever made

user10: take me to portugal i want to find a man like ruben

⇝ user11: I don’t need a man like ruben I need ruben

user12: am i the only one that misses single ruben?

⇝ user13: hell no, single ruben was miserable at least with this blonde lady he is happy

user14: who even is she?

⇝ user15: someone you’re jealous of

liked by yourusername , ivandias03 and 418,000 others

rubendias: event of the year only because she attended

view comments

yourusername: I ❤️ u

⇝ rubendias: spell it out correctly

⇝ yourusername: I LOVE YOU

⇝ rubendias: damn chill

⇝ yourusername: shut the hell up

ivandias03: get yo ass out of here

user1: I love this relationship more than I love my mom

user2: okay when is it my turn

user3: why am I single

user4: you’re so sexy post yourself

user5: she’s so sexy post her

user6: impeccable taste in women

⇝ rubendias: thank you for noticing, I try really hard

user7: and boyfriend of the year goes to…..

user8: I want to be their dog I can bark

user9: okay time for me to turn my phone off

user10: I want a refund

user11: I’m sobbing, I want a boyfriend

user12: at first we all thought she was a gold digger but I feel like this is real love

liked by rubendias , georginagio and 312,000 others

yourusername: my old favorite person, ruben and my new favorite person, simba

view comments

rubendias: do you actually love me

⇝ yourusername: yes, of course 😘😘

user8: DO YOU NEED ANOTHER DOG?? I CAN STILL BARKKK

user1: I love this lil family

user2: is it bad I want to be a dog?

user3: this is my roman empire

user4: I can’t wait til they have kids

⇝ yourusername: simba is my kid ? wdym?

user5: cutest dog ever

⇝ rubendias: cutest woman ever

⇝ yourusername: cutest man ever

⇝ user6: are we interrupting something…

user7: if this didn’t break my heart idk what will

user9: I want to be the dog

user10: that puppy is the luckiest puppy to ever walk the earth

#x reader #man city #manchester city #ruben dias #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias x you #smau #football x reader #football #barçameowski #erling haaland

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roseykat · 2 years ago

Text

TITLE: Play Tight

PAIRINGS: Bang Chan x f!reader

SUMMARY: Reader and Chan divulge their ‘excuse’ as to why they couldn’t make it to hot pot and barbecue dinner with their friends.

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won’t be able to regulate/monitor every potential interaction with those posts so please do not engage with me, my work, or page whatsoever.

TAGS: smut, porn with plot, swearing, multiple orgasms, squirting, overstimulation, unprotected sex, creampies, fwb, some pillow talk (ish)

PART 1 / PART 2 / PART 3

🏷️ LIST: @chillichillicrabcrab23 @broken-glowsticks @ihatemen55 @boi-bi-ahaha @galamxy @weareapackofstrays @anglerfishiey @elizalabs3 @fr34k4c1dr41n @stayconnecteed @imnotjjini0325 @twinklix @meilix @livsposts @dawn-iscozy @princejisung @valibals @oiikaro @im-sinking-in-mud @aalexyuuuhm @baby-yongbok @/leftkittenface @20minsat180degrees @itsthatbri (if you want to be removed or added to the tag list, please lmk!) ⭐️

A/N: if you don't know what a refractory period is it's essentially about the ability of most women to cum back to back or one after the other in a short span of time between one orgasm and the next. Therefore, if it seems as though I've written about reader having multiple orgasms within quick succession, that's because she is and Chan is making the most of it. Also I really pushed the time limit with uploading this part bc I spent the last few hours trying to get the fan club which took fucking ages...

Hot pot and barbecue with friends - now that sounded fun.

You saw the group chat messages from earlier, and the plan to all meet up at half past six. Had you not orchestrated other arrangements, you would be sitting with them right now enjoying nice meals and chats. Instead, your body remains to be railed thoroughly, right into the bed that belongs to none other than Chan. The owner of very capable hands who had just finished fucking you on his couch earlier on.

He too missed dinner with everyone for the same reason. Selfishly being, to get laid.

Chan presented half of a lie to the group chat, saying that his family was back in the city - which was true, and that he was going to visit them, so he couldn’t make it - not true. You on the other hand conjured the only fib you could think of and told everyone that you were going to be working past six.

Both of you felt relatively guilty for ditching the dinner. However, it would’ve looked ten times more suspicious if the two of you suddenly changed your minds at the same time and decided to show up.

But why would anyone suspect anything? Nobody knew Chan was rearranging your guts every other night. Or so you thought. That dirty, slutty little secret was only kept hushed between you and Chan. These past couple of months you’ve spent at each other's houses, tainting the very last remnants of innocence either of you had.

You wouldn’t have realised it at first until you experienced it for yourself, but Chan is and can get really horny. Before him, there was no such thing as ‘hard-paced’ or ‘nasty’ sex. It was fairly vanilla, which there’s nothing wrong with from time to time. But at the minute, that wasn’t the cup of tea you fancied. No. It was something much dirtier and riveting, something that makes you feel like you’re very much alive.

Chan was able to achieve that in less than half an hour after you both hooked up one time after a night out. Sure there might’ve been alcohol involved, except neither of you were drunk enough to completely forget what an amazing time you both had. So much so that you and Chan decided to hook up again. And again, and again, until it became a weekly event.

In saying that, there were a few layers as to why you and Chan started seeing each other regularly. You needed the de-stressor from work that had been hounding you for months, and among other things, there is nothing like a good dick down to make just about make every worry in your mind disappear.

As for Chan’s situation, it wasn’t as light. Having been cheated on by his long term partner, Chan entered what you refer to as his ‘hoe phase’ to which he was rather embarrassed to learn that it’s something that people tend to go through when they’ve broken up with their significant other.

Nonetheless, you and Chan unexpectedly found each other in a way friends wouldn’t typically, and it was only limited to that. No strings attached, still remain good friends, and the best mind blowing sex.

“Fuck - yes, right there!”

Chan’s hips ram unforgivingly into you from behind. Creating godly, euphoric waves that ripple throughout your body each and every time he does. His fingernails clutch themselves into the soft flesh of your hips, allowing him to use that small bit of traction to pull your body back onto his cock or for him to thrust forward mercilessly.

This was way better than dinner with friends.

“W-Wait,” you reach behind to the side of your body, trying to tap his arm and prompt him to slow down so you could get your message across without having it fucked right out of you. “Ride…lemme ride you.”

Chan swallows and nods, taking a short breather, “yeah, yeah okay.”

Whilst you’ve learned a lot of things about Chan since you’ve started sleeping with him, he’s also learned some stuff about you. Like discovering throughout your secret sessions with him that you seem to cum the hardest when you’re riding him. He doesn’t entirely see the appeal of it since he doesn’t mind picking up all the slack just so you don’t have to do any of the work. At the same time, however, nothing feels as good as fucking his frustrations into you.

But he also doesn’t mind them getting fucked out of him. It easily added to one of the reasons why he found it so hot to watch you ride dick.

As he gently slides his cock out of you, moving into the next position where he now gets to lie back against his pillows. He watches you straddle him first, then take his length in hand before aligning it with your hole. Slowly, you sink down onto his cock.

The ‘o’ shape in your mouth enlarges when the entirety of his length vanishes inside you. He’s big. Something you can’t always grasp every time you sleep together. The silver lining in that however is that the foreplay is amazing.

“Christ,” you breathe out, lifting your hips up and down a couple of times, groaning as the pleasure already built up from before starts re-taking its effect to its highest extent. “Fuck, make me feel so full.”

“So you keep telling me,” he responds with a cocky grin as his hand reaches up to one of your tits and gropes ravenously. “But that’s what you like isn’t it? Having a big cock inside you, yeah?”

Your hand claps right on top of his, the other stabilises your body on his chest as you start riding at a pace comfortable enough to build some momentum. It doesn’t take long until every part of your body feels like warm flames are tickling your skin, leaving tingly traces in their wake.

“Yes, love it so much,” you pant breathlessly. “Love it when it makes me cum.”

Chan is glad to hear that. Then again, he knows. He’s fucked you long enough to know what you like, what you don’t, and what type of pleasure can turn your mind inside out. With that in mind, and one hand still groping you, he uses the other thumb to find your clit and rub generously.

“F-Fuck, oh my god, don’t stop, don’t stop,” you plead in anguish as you start to feel your orgasm shift into sight.

It’s right there. The utmost pleasure and ecstasy at its apex swells from the pit of your stomach, to your toes, all the way into the crevices of your brain. Every part of you - physically and mentally, just seems to melt into Chan. His cock, which feels like it was made for you to use like this, glides frictionlessly until his tip kisses your g-spot so lovingly. Each time it hits, Chan earns extra centimetres of long red scratches down his abdomen, marked up by your fingernails.

“Cum,” he demands through gritted teeth. “Fucking cum all over me.”

Brainless and vacant as you were in trying to respond to him, your actions seemed to speak for themselves. As Chan continues to move his thumb consistently over your clit and you bounce yourself still on his cock, your eyes suddenly screw tight shut - shuddering before a surge of relief gushes from between your legs.

Chan grins sickeningly.

The untapped pleasure squeezes and strangles moans out of your throat, yet, in the few spare moments when you had come back down to earth, your stomach felt like it dropped at some point along the way. The minute you open your eyes, breathing hard and heavy, your attention catches on to the mess you’ve made.

Most of Chan’s abdomen is soaked with your juices, his taut torso gleaming with your cum. Droplets of it roll down his side and seep into the sheets below him. From there, the humiliation is quick to ensue. Chan even sees the panic fill your eyes.

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” you whine apologetically. “I don’t know what happened! I was - I was caught up in-“

Chan ceases your babbling by grabbing the undersides of your thighs and just about throws you on your back as he moves to top you. His sudden movements catch you off guard, wondering for a moment what he was doing until he started fucking you again.

“Chris!” you cry out, latching around his back.

His head buries into the crook of your neck, “wanna feel you do it again. Wanna see you drip down my cock.”

At his words of request, you knew it was possible with the way that his dick hits deeper, pressing against those sensitive spots inside you that have been milked of pleasure. It’s not difficult to feel it building up again. There’s zero refractory period, allowing you to cum in an uninterrupted procession. At this stage, Chan could just whisper dirty things in your ear and have you become a squirting mess on his bed for him to watch. He wondered if that was actually possible.

After watching and making you cum an extraordinary amount of times this evening, Chan was about to witness another, this time, mixed with his own release of pleasure. He can never ignore that dense pressure stacking up in his cock, like a blocked pipe that’s about to burst with the help of the tension from your contracting walls.

One hand at a time, he places each beside your head to lift himself up while still trying to maintain a consistent pace. Then he coils back, grabbing the undersides of your thighs again and leaning some of his weight down so that he can press deeper.

Tears are pricking your eyes - not from any pain but from pleasure you’ve never felt. It’s so intense and has nowhere in your body to escape that the longer you hold it in, the more explosive it’s going to feel. As your emotions exude the ferocity of another orgasm, Chan absorbs your expressions, giving him a very clear estimate of when you’re about to cum.

“Gonna give me another one?” he asks even though you’re in no state of mind to give him a verbal answer. “Gonna be a good girl and get my dick wet one last time?”

You shake your head but only because you’re unsure if you can actually take that pressure that’s about to blow. Regardless of how high he has built your orgasms for you, you always take them well. It has you sobbing - screaming and clutching onto his bedding as you whimper that you’re about to cum. Chan could only just hear you over the sound of his skin slapping against yours.

“You can do it,” he reassures you. “You always do.”

At that moment, as if he just flipped a switch inside you, Chan had you gushing in an instant. Your upper body contorts to the left and stiffens as he fucks you right through it, right until his own orgasm slaps him on cue. Grunts mixed with whimpers force their way out from the base of Chan’s throat. His cock uncontrollably spurts his hot white cum, coating liberal amounts on your walls with a few hard, deep thrusts.

"Fuck, oh my god," he groans through gritted teeth, satisfaction seeping through into his blood.

He pulls back to sit on his heels, looking down as he grabs the base of his cock now slicker than usual with milky, almost transparent liquid rings of white. The fact that both of your juices have mixed together does something to a sick part of Chan’s brain. His lower half is still dripping with your cum, forcing you to shy away into the bunched up sheets when you realise you’ve made another mess on him.

Too weak to speak up about it, Chan had no trouble reading the room and caught onto your emotions. He was right to assume that you were embarrassed for it but fuck if Chan could experience it all again, he would. That then strikes an idea as he massages your inner thighs with the palms of his hands.

“That’s never happened before,” he comments with a little bit of surprise, making you turn with embarrassment, all the while trying to ease you back down from your high. “So fucking hot.”

His thumbs rub into your wet skin, inching closer to your pussy. Before you know it, the backs of his fingertips are brushing over your hole where his cum is leaking out of you. Semi sticky strings of it attach onto him when he pulls away and goes back in to smother it all the way up to your clit. He thumbs softly over the sensitive bud, setting fire again to the muscles in your lower half.

You shudder a little bit from the faint stimulation, and finally muster the energy to talk, “yeah…d-don’t know how. Usually it’s - mm, just cause’…maybe you were hitting the right spot.”

Chan doesn’t meet your eyes, and by the preoccupied look on his face, it was clear that he had another agenda as his thumb continued to rub mindlessly. Although, he did hear you as he smirked and shook his head.

“Nah, that was all you,” his mouth falls open slightly as he stares down at where his fingers begin to disappear.

“Chan…”

“I reckon you could give me one more,” he predicts as he starts to finger you slowly. “Just one more.”

“Please, fuck...” You whine loudly throughout the room. “D-Don’t think I can…please.”

Chan moves to the side of you just a little bit, placing his other hand on your lower belly to apply just a little bit of welcoming pressure while he ignores you, “yes you can pretty. Only one.”

His fingers curl deviously inside you, forcing an automatic bodily response for your eyes to roll to the back of your head and back to arch clean off the bed. As he strokes over the spongy area, your fists are clenching on the duvet. Your body is beyond sensitive and squirms uncontrollably at the faintest of his touch.

“Chris!” You sob, tears now leaking down the sides of your face from the euphoria.

This was the closest replica to being high. It’s like the pleasure picked up where it left off from the previous orgasm Chan brought to you and nearly doubled in intensity to the point where you thought for a moment that you were going to black out. But it hits you harder than before since his fingers have a bit more precision to find and hit your g-spot rather than making you feel fuller.

“That’s my good girl,” he says encouragingly.

There and then, as Chan detects the tell-tale signs that you’re about to cum, he finger fucks you at a generous pace that doesn’t let up on the time your insides have to try mitigate the pleasure. It goes into overdrive, sending a bunch of all the right signals straight to your brain.

“C-Cum…cumming…I’m-”

Chan appreciates the fact that he’s reduced you from crying and screaming his name to a silent, overstimulated mess. Alternatively, you’re surrendering entirely to the ecstasy which sweeps you under like a current. Chan doesn’t need to hold you in place for you to take what he’s giving you with his fingers. He just gives and gives, and gives until for the third time, he has you squirting.

“Oh yeah, look at that,” he grins excitedly, watching his palm and all the way up to his forearm become completely drenched in your juices. “What a good girl.”

By that point, Chan was successful in running your body dry. His pace slows down, now gently stroking inside you. Your quiet, strained moans die down, along with a reserve tank of energy you had left. You were limp and helpless, a gorgeous mess on the bed for him to admire.

Chan slowly takes his fingers out, gently massaging around your sensitive pussy, “fuck, so good."

You turn onto your side, processing all of that. For a few moments before, it felt like you had had an out of body experience, and maybe you were. Everything was so consuming and powerful that for a second you didn’t feel like yourself. But that wasn’t a bad thing, nor did you think of it that way. It’s just a new experience that you welcomed, one that made you feel good multiple times.

Chan hops off the bed and kneels beside you onto the floor as he strokes and pats your head, “you okay?”

You nod then go to sit up, “mm, just out of it. Give me a few minutes.”

“You - you shouldn’t move so much, not now at least,” Chan warns, then quickly spots the uncomfortable expression on your face as you realise that everything beneath you is wet and sticky.

“Your duvet,” you say to him, looking down and around at all the large damp areas.

“What about it?”

“Well it’s all ruined-”

“They’re not ruined,” he says defiantly like a stubborn child, almost like he was offended you even made that sort of comment. “It looks…fucking hot.”

“Hot,” you repeated with an airy chuckle.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” says Chan, bewildered.

“Neither could I to be honest,” you agree wholeheartedly. “It was really…intense and...strange.”

“Strange?” He retorts.

“Not a bad ‘strange’, just something I’ve always heard of, but never managed to do with someone else before,” you reply.

Chan smiles to himself, looking at his bed before that grin drops off his face, “never managed to do it with someone else before? As in, you’ve done it before, just…on your own?”

You blink up at him, quickly changing the subject, “reckon the others are still out?”

“I’d imagine so,” he says, still thinking about what you said previously.

“Hot pot and barbecue sounded so nice too…” you trail off, eyes going in and out of focus. Your body is starting to catch up to you.

“Well, luckily we live in the era of food delivery, right?” He responds confidently. “Let me clean you up first, then we can hop in the shower. After that, I’ll order it in for us, sound good?”

Sometimes when you’re with Chan, you forget that at the end of the day, he’s one of your good friends and still acts like it after you sleep with him. He knows when to be your fuck buddy and when to be your mate. None of it is awkward or weird and nor does he strive to make it that way.

Potentially it’s because of his nature to be a gentleman inside the bedroom just as much as he is outside, hence why you had a considerate amount of gratitude towards him for not being an ass like some of the people you’ve hooked up with or seen casually in the past. But that could never be the two people you slept with a few weeks back.

Not Hyunjin nor Jisung, whom you’ve thought about ever since that night at his apartment. Although it was truth or dare that led you all to the events that unfolded, you would’ve still slept with them anyway without the game. Just thinking about the two of them makes you miss them. Makes you miss the way that they touched you.

It was a different feeling to how Chan normally touches you. With him, he’s a friend with benefits. Someone who can call you or you can call him whenever either of you need each other. As a result, there isn’t going to be anything fond or loving between the pair of you - which you’re more than happy with. You made that clear to Chan at the start that you weren’t looking to enter into a relationship with him at any stage if that’s what he was thinking.

Thankfully, he wasn’t either.

But when Hyunjin and Jisung touched you, it was surreal. Almost natural, like they were meant to feel you that way and only them. That was the difference between them and Chan, not that you were comparing them since you saw them in separate positive lights.

There was just something about those two that left a strong imprint on your brain, something you can’t scratch without them…

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