#but he was the friend who hit me with the “’how would you like it if someone tore into your work like that Tariah :(?’ and it made me
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hotshotsxyz · 3 days ago
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where else but here, who else but us?
(8x06 coda) (buddie) (986 words)
Eddie wakes to the smell of bacon frying and coffee brewing, and for the first time in maybe his entire life, he lets himself luxuriate in it. If he’d actually made it to bed last night, he might even go back to sleep.
He stands and stretches, then shivers a little bit as the cool morning air tickles his bare thighs. Eddie grins. He just—
He did something for himself, and the world didn’t end. He did something for himself, and not only did the world not end, it got a little bit bigger and a little bit brighter. He did something for himself and Buck showed up, and that joy he was feeling burned a little bit hotter.
Eddie scoops his phone up off the floor and finds that it’s completely out of juice. He huffs a soft laugh and plugs it in. It’s a silly thought, but—Eddie can’t remember the last time his phone died. How could it, when he’s been so damn determined to avoid anything that might bring him a little joy. Hell, he hasn’t even been letting himself text Buck unless Buck texts him first.
He pads down the hall and into his bedroom and pulls on the softest pair of sweats he owns. He changes into an old, threadbare t-shirt, leans against the wall and exhales.
In his kitchen, Buck is making breakfast. In Texas, Christopher is safe and probably still asleep, and that’s a whole lot more than Eddie’s been letting himself acknowledge.  Here in LA, Eddie is alive and healthy and, if the priest that was maybe hitting on him is to be believed, allowed to forgive himself. He’s not there yet, but he can let himself join Buck in the kitchen.
On his way, Eddie makes a pit stop in the living room. His phone, up to an impressive 8% battery, has already reconnected to the Bluetooth speaker that’s tucked behind one of the photos on the mantle. He queues up a playlist that he and Buck have been curating together for years. Soft music fills the room and Eddie kind of wants to cry.
This is what he’s been denying himself. Easy mornings and raucous evenings and his best friend filling all the empty spaces he’s always been too afraid to try to fill himself. Eddie walks into the kitchen and finds Buck already looking for him.
“Morning,” Buck says, a little rough, like it’s the first word he’s said today. It probably is.
“Hey,” Eddie replies. He steps into Buck’s space and pulls him into a hug, just because he wants to. He feels Buck exhale and melt into him. “You okay?” he asks softly.
Buck pulls back from Eddie’s embrace and bites his lip. “I, uh—honestly?”
Eddie nods.
“I don’t really know,” Buck admits. “I think I just—or, I thought—I don’t know.” He lets out a frustrated huff.  
Eddie slides his hand down Buck’s arm until his fingers are circling Buck’s wrist. “You don’t have to,” he offers.
Buck’s head tips to the side. “You seem different,” he observes quietly.
“I am, I think,” Eddie says.
“What does that mean?” Buck asks
Eddie considers for a moment. “I think I’m just… ready to let some things go,” he says. “Maybe let some new things in.”
Buck smiles, small but genuine. “That’s—I’m glad.”
“Me too.” It’s incredible, but Eddie’s pretty sure he actually means it.
Buck’s gaze slides away from Eddie and hits the floor. “I, um. Me and Tommy. We—or, he—he broke up with me,” he says.
Something clenches in Eddie’s chest. “Then he’s an idiot,” he says.
“Maybe,” Buck says with a kind of hopeless shrug.
“He is,” Eddie says with conviction. “You’re—“ Sunshine. Joy. Perfect. Everything. He lets go of Buck’s wrist and twists their fingers together. “You’re the best person I know,” he says. “If Tommy couldn’t see that, that’s on him.”
Buck blows a disbelieving breath out through his nose. “He said I was going to break his heart.”
“Getting his heart broken by you would be a privilege,” Eddie replies before he can think better of it.
Buck lets out a pained noise. “But I wouldn’t—or, I didn’t want—” He cuts himself off with a frown. He looks up through his lashes and Eddie and Eddie—
Oh, Eddie wants.
“Anyone who’s lucky enough to be loved by you, even for a second, should know it’d be worth it,” he says.
“Eds,” Buck breathes.
“I mean it,” Eddie says, squeezing his hand. “And if you don’t, I’ll believe it enough for both of us.”
Buck laughs wetly. “You make it hard for a guy to wallow in a breakup, you know that?”
Eddie grins. “Good.” He steps back, tugging Buck’s wrist as he goes. “Come here,” he says, and Buck follows easily.
The coffee and bacon are quickly cooling on the counter, but there’s music in the air and Buck’s in his arms and Eddie’s pretty sure he wants to kiss his best friend. And he thinks that might even be a good thing.
“Eddie, what?” Buck asks breathlessly as Eddie puts a hand on his waist and spins them both.
“We’re dancing,” Eddie says, smiling.
“O-okay,” Buck says, clumsily following his lead.
Eddie can’t help the laugh that bubbles from his chest. A small grin spreads across Buck’s face.
“Maybe I would have,” Buck murmurs quietly.
“What?” Eddie asks, spinning him again, just because he can.
“Broken his heart.”
Warmth spreads from Eddie’s chest to his fingertips. “Yeah?” he asks breathlessly.
Buck hums but doesn’t clarify further. Eddie, though, Eddie’s pretty sure he gets it.
He and Buck—well. It’s hard to imagine a world where they don’t choose each other, over and over and over again. It’s them. How could they ever end up anywhere but here?
Eddie wants. He tightens his grip on Buck and keeps dancing.
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tinythebunni · 2 days ago
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rafe had his eyes on you for a while. you were new to the island and everyone wanted to be by you. you seemed to have this energy that attracted everyone, like a fucking magnet.
rafe couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw you. you were everything he could want in a girl. tall, slim, curvy, shiny skin, beautiful hair, and most of all you were so feminine. he loved a girl he could take care of, provide for even.
he first saw you at the country club. you were clad in skimpy pink bikini with white polka dots, a white bow in the side of your hair, and white flats on. you read some magazine he couldn’t be bothered to even pay attention to. for right now, you were his main object of his attention. you could feel his eyes on you, you usually did.
you’d been here only two weeks and you knew all about the infamous rafe cameron. there were rumors he killed some cop and he had a drug problem.
people said he was one of the most fun people in the world but he would blow up in the quarter of a second. no girl could hold him down and he always got what he wanted. everyone wanted to be him or fuck him.
he’d made slight advances in the short amount of time you’ve been in the outer banks. holding a door open for you, paying for your drink, offering to apply your sunscreen while you tanned at the beach, the whole shabang.
you didn’t give him the slightest ounce of your attention. you wanted him to work for it. obviously you wanted him but you can’t let him know that! if rafe always got what he wanted then he wouldn’t mind a challenge.
you liked this game of cat and mouse you guys played. you didn’t know how much longer you could take it though. your friend daphne had invited you to some kook party at her stupid chad bfs house.
you went of course because rafe would be there. and you wanted him to see you, especially in this outfit. a lacy pink halter neck and pink mini skirt with ties on the sides. it showed just enough of skin to make him crazy. you wanted him to know what he was missing out on.
who knows? maybe tonight you’ll let him have a taste.
after a while of being at the party you started to get a bit bored. there were people making out in the corners, the alcohol tasted shit, and rafe still wasn’t here.
you were slightly buzzed and contemplating walking out when you saw him. he wore only a white wife beater and some denim jeans. what really caught your attention was the way his eyes were immediately on you when he came in.
he looked you over, greeting a few people, but not once did his eyes stray off you.
“top, i gotta go handle something. i’ll catch ya later.” and with that he strides over to you, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you into a room upstairs.
you had butterflies in your stomach. after a month he couldn’t take it anymore. you were excited to see what he would do now.
he swiftly locked the door and turned towards you with an almost primal look in his eyes. you giggle as he rubs the back of his neck and glares.
“do you think this shit is fuckin funny? been wanting you for months and you think it’s game. do you know how hard you make me? those skimpy fucking skirts and that coy smile.“
you were positive you looked like a fish out of water right now. you could feel a heat rising in your belly and a blush flushing your checks and neck.
“i didn’t know i affected you that much” you whispered.
“bullshit. i see you close your thighs each time i fucking look at you. can barely focus on anything when you’re near by.”
rafe is stalking towards you now, and you back up more and more until your knees finally hit the bed. he pushes you back until your lying on your back, with only your elbows and forearms holding you up.
he pulls your skirt over your tummy, glancing up at you as he places a kiss on your thigh.
“tell me this is okay. i needa know what you taste like. i can’t fucking stand it. so close to your pussy i can practically feel you on my tongue already.”
you give a shaky nod but that’s not enough.
he pinches the inside of your thigh and shakes his head with disapproval.
“no. baby i need words. use your voice, ain’t even touched you yet so i know you’re not fucked out already.”
“yes, yes rafe this is okay! please i need it” you whine while your lips pout slightly.
he was being so mean right now! is this what it felt like for him all this time?
he places a kiss on your clit over your panties and thumbs at your entrance. he smoothes your arousal over your lips and curses under his breath.
rafe takes his time making you whimper and whine. you push your hips up for some kind of friction, something more than he’s giving you. he uses his left hand to hold you down while his right pushes down on your clit, the pressure making your eyes roll back.
“calm down sweet thing. s’okay. m jus getting you ready. been dreaming bout this and i wanna take my time”
the cameron boy takes off your underwear and pauses. you can’t tell if he’s in awe or disgusted.
“so fucking pretty baby. is this all for me?” he questions as if he doesn’t already know the answer.
“rafe of course it is, do you see anybody else in this fucking room?” you’re mad now, you’re so fucking horny and he’s being a tease!
“alright alright” he laughs, placing a kiss to your thigh and looking up at you one last time.
“not letting you go after this is done. you’re mine.”
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mlyscha · 3 days ago
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↳ WHAT A MAN ⭑
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𝓼ynopsis. the little sweet things they do. 𝓹airing. enha!member x female!reader 𝓰enre. tooth rooting fluff, domestic. 𝔀arnings. mentions of nude (not in a malicious way), not proofread, english is not my 1st language. 𝔀𝓬. 1k+ 𝓶asterlist.
♡ 𝓪melie's 𝓷ote: hey there! how are you guys doing? excited for enhypen's comeback? because i surely am! ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )
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― 𝓱eeseung: leftovers? it's his!
you know that boyfriend's who are the definition of a vacuum cleaner? heeseung is definitely one of them ― and it makes you fall even more in love. there's something about him finishing his meal first and waiting patiently for you to finish yours or giving/handing your leftovers to him. in the beginning of your relationship with heeseung, you were kind of taken back by his action, which made you ask him if he wasn't disgusted or something. however, this man looked straight into your eyes and replied: "no? babe, i kiss you every day, how could i be disgusted? i mean, how could i be disgusted of you?" ― how sweet... (╥﹏╥)
― 𝓳ongseong: bathe you when you're tired.
it's not a secret that jongseong is that type of domestic boyfriend or like the materialisation/personification of husband material. with that, usually, when you come back home tired, your boyfriend makes sure to let you rest. he makes you food, then chooses a comfy pyjamas for you before leading you to your shared bedroom. with that, he would slowly and sweetly take off your clothes and reassure you he could do the laundry. jongseong then proceeds to leads you to the bathtub ― already running a warm bath ―, pampering you with butterfly kisses onto your shoulders while both of you wait for the water to fill the bathtub. and then finally you get into the bathtub, enjoying the way his hands massage your shoulders, how his lips feel against your tense muscles and hearing his whispers: "i'm so proud of you, i love you, sweetheart..."
― 𝓳aeyun: calls you layla's mum.
ever since you and jaeyun were friends, he has already called you layla's mum a hundred times, but it never hit you that much back then until both of you started dating. i think it is because of the moments jaeyun usually calls you that, being mostly of the time when he wants to cuddle his two girls ― you and layla. if you're still not convinced that it could be one of the sweetest thing he does, imagine this scenario: both of you cuddling on bed and then your boyfriend suddenly hears small whimpers coming from layla behind the door. and then he gently places a kiss on your forehead and opens the door for her, petting her head while speaking with a baby voice with her as well. "come here, layla!" he pats an empty spot on your shared bed, inviting her. "come here cuddle with your mum! ey~ good girl! jaeyun would tease you saying ― while giggling ― something like: "you're so cute... like your mum," ― literally the sweetest thing ever!
― 𝓼unghoon: remembers every little thing you say.
remember when you said you like that drink? me neither, but sunghoon surely does. sunghoon is known for being one of the introverts, however, he is one of the sweetest that's for sure. in the beginning of your relationship, you remember going out for a date with him, and while walking on the street holding hands, he pulls out something from his pocket and hands you. it was a small pink box. "what is this?" "um... open it," opening the small box, a beautiful necklace was revealed. "what...?" "you know," he would start, avoiding looking at you while feeling coy. "remember when you said you wanted a new necklace because yours was getting old?" your boyfriend looks at you for a brief second, waiting for you nod. "so... i know you didn't ask for me to buy it but... i bought one for you." and that was one of the moments you knew you were loving and falling for the right person: and not because of the necklace, but because of his intention.
― 𝓼unoo: cares about you and your (mental) health.
sunoo loves sharing, he can't forget that sharing is caring. with that, since both of you were just friends he always made sure to share everything with you. skincare products, perfumes, feelings... and you have the most clear memory of him being worried about you while you were out and have ate nothing more than an apple. don't do this to him. sunoo always says to you ― when you complain about your looks ― that he doesn't care, he cares about you! not your looks. ― "look, baby, i understand you. i have my insecurities too and we can work them together; two is better than one, right? i love you, i care about you and i hope you know you can count on me always."
― 𝓳ungwon: kisses your hand daily.
as a way to show love throughout the day, jungwon prefers to give you small acts of love, such as like: forehead kisses, doing the laundry, making the bed and tidying the room up, etc. it's not like he doesn't kiss you, but he doesn't feel the need to make you feel loved only by that. however, he knows how important it is for you, so he usually rather to kiss your hand. like, imagine both of you just sitting on the dinner table having a meal together and suddenly ― while chatting ― he takes your hand and gently places a kiss on it because he felt like it. or, imagine you accidentally cut your finger: jungwon will get a band-aid and give you a little hand kiss, kissing your forehead as well, wishing you feel a bit better.
― 𝓻iki: always covers your legs.
riki is usually wearing his large jumpers/hoodies, and that is for three reasons: 1. because he feels cool; 2. because he feels cold; 3. because he wants to protect you. protect you from what? i mean, you can't really stop a bullet from hitting someone with a hoodie right? yeah, it's obvious, with that, he just wants to protect you from the cold, creeps; mainly when you wear short skirts and you have to sit down on an underground seat or just simply waiting for the bus to arrive. it's this little thing he does that makes you feel cared and loved, even though riki has this playful and sometimes nonchalant personality.
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© 𝓪𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝓮, 𝗺𝗹𝘆𝘀𝗰𝗵𝗮 𝗌𝓽𝓾𝖽𝗂𝗈𝓼. ⋆
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redroomreflections · 2 days ago
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At The End of The Night
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Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader
The Loud House Universe
Warnings: Smut Inside - Minors DNI (18+)
Note: I hope y'all enjoy
Summary: Wanda has always been a third in Reader and Nat's relationship. Why not take it to the next level?
W/c: 5k
It felt strange, in a good way, for the house to be this quiet. You were seated on the couch, sandwiched between Wanda and Natasha, as the soft TV light bathed the room in dim, darting light. Cara was away at a sleepover with friends, leaving you and Natasha with the rare opportunity for a quiet night. Of course, inviting Wanda over for a movie night was a given.
People always joked that Wanda was the third in your marriage, and while that was only half true, the three of you shared a bond unlike any other. When Wanda joined the team, you were the first person to make her feel welcome, and she was someone who quickly found her place in your lives. You and Wanda immediately hit it off, bonding over a few common interests and quickly building a friendship that became as easy as family. Wanda was a person you trusted with pretty much everything. She's someone you both cared about deeply.
Now, nestled together under a heavy blanket, Wanda gave an exaggerated sigh as she leaned her head against the pillows. “I’m just saying, if he wanted her back, he could have tried a little harder than just showing up at her work with a bouquet,” she scoffed, her eyes never leaving the screen.
Natasha smirked on your other side. “It’s a rom-com. If it made sense, it wouldn’t be half as entertaining,” she said, sipping her wine. She draped an arm casually over the back of the couch, stroking the back of your neck with the tip of her fingers.
You sighed softly at the sensation, the wine, and the heat of their bodies, making you feel content and comfortable. Wanda shifted, and her thigh pressed against yours. The movie was coming to an end, and you were buzzed. It was a good feeling.
"I need more wine," You announced.
"Oh no, you don't," Natasha gripped your glass out of arms' reach. "You get too frisky when you're drunk."
"You say that like it's a bad thing," You scoffed.
"It is when we have guests," Natasha gestured to Wanda. "You've been rubbing my leg this entire movie."
You hadn't even noticed. "Sorry, Wands," You apologized.
"No, I'm used to it," Wanda waved her hand, dismissing your concerns.
"Used to it?" You frowned.
Wanda nodded. "You're not subtle. You always do the same things when you're drunk, which isn't often. You guys are very touchy-feely." She teased, laughing a little as she looked between you and Natasha. "Not that it's a bad thing."
"Sorry if that makes you uncomfortable," Natasha apologized.
"It's fine," Wanda promised. "It's a nice change, actually. Everyone is so formal, and everyone always wants something from me. You guys are the only ones who make me feel... Normal. It's nice."
"We'll always be here for you," You smiled. "You're sweet."
She smiled back at you.
“You don’t have to be anyone but yourself with us. And if you ever feel uncomfortable, just say the word.” You told her.
Wanda smiled, glancing down. “You guys are the best,” she said, looking up with a hint of bashfulness. “I guess I’ve always wondered what that would feel like—to have someone you could just be yourself around all the time.”
You exchanged a quick glance with Natasha before gently nudging Wanda with your shoulder. “It’ll happen for you, too, you know. Some lucky person out there will love you for exactly who you are.”
Wanda chuckled, her cheeks turning a little pink. “You both make it look so easy, though. How do you even start with all of this… relationship stuff?”
"Have you not been in one?" Natasha raised a brow.
"No, not really. There was a guy back home, but he was a jerk. And I was so busy, and then there was Ultron and Sokovia, and..." Wanda trailed off, shaking her head. "It's always seemed like a luxury."
"It's not. It's an incredible experience." You said, smiling to yourself as you glanced at your wife.
"And the sex is a bonus," Natasha grinned.
Wanda rolled her eyes. "I'm sure."
"What?" You frowned, a little confused. "Are you a virgin?"
"No, no," Wanda shook her head. "I've slept with a man before, but..."
"But what?" Natasha frowned.
"I've never slept with a woman," Wanda explained.
"Would you like to?" You tilted your head.
"With whom?" Wanda's eyes widened.
"Well, not necessarily now," You shook your head. You licked your lips and thought it over. "But we could help you practice if you'd like."
"Practice?"
"Sure," Natasha nodded. "There's no reason for you to have a bad first time."
"I'm not asking for a pity-fuck," Wanda rolled her eyes. She sighed. "I should probably get home."
"Or you could stay?" You suggested, looking over to Natasha for backup. "If you want."
Natasha nodded in agreement. "It's a big bed, and you could have the spare room if you'd rather have privacy. But, no pressure."
"Yeah," You agreed. "It doesn't have to be anything weird. I mean, not unless you want it to be."
Wanda stared at you both briefly, her brow creasing a little. "So, what, I'll come to sleep with you guys, and you'll make me feel good?"
"If that's what you want, yes," You nodded. "And if not, we'll still be here for you."
"Why?"
"Because we're your friends and care about you," Natasha shrugged. "We're offering because we'd like to, but if you're not interested, that's fine, too."
Wanda looked at the both of you for a moment, a little taken aback. You felt a little guilty. You hadn't meant to make her uncomfortable.
"What would we do?" She finally asked.
"Whatever you'd like. Whatever makes you feel good," Natasha assured her.
"I'm sorry," Wanda shook her head. She brushed a hand over her face to collect her thoughts. "Maybe I've had too much to drink. Are you guys being serious?"
"Yes," You nodded.
"Okay, hold on. Let me process," Wanda put up her hands.
You and Natasha exchanged another glance, not wanting to make the younger woman feel awkward.
"I'm going to grab more wine," Natasha announced, standing up. "Be right back."
"You can ask questions," You said, reaching over and squeezing her hand.
"I-I'm not sure what to ask," She admitted.
"How do you feel about it?"
"A little embarrassed," Wanda chuckled nervously. "But also a little curious."
"What's embarrassing about it?"
"It's not something that's normally talked about, is it? People don't go around bragging about how much they want to fuck their friends." She explained, dropping her hands to her lap. "You two are generous for the offer, but I don't want to be someone intruding on your marriage."
"It's only intruding if we say no and you push," You reminded her. "Which is the same for you. If you say no, we won't push."
There was a long pause from her. She hadn't said no yet.
Wanda sighed softly, running a hand through her hair. "I'm afraid I won't be good. What if I fumble, or what if it's awkward and..."
"Then we'll have a laugh and call it a day. I promise." You reassured her.
Wanda bit her lip, and you watched her eyes dart from the door to you and back to the door. Finally, she turned to look at you again.
"What would you want to do with me?" She asked, her voice a little softer. Instead of telling her, you decided to show her. You scooted closer to her on the couch, raising your hands to her face before leaning in to press your lips against hers. Her lips were soft, and her skin was warm. She melted into the kiss, her shoulders relaxing as she brought a hand up to touch your face. You pulled away for a moment, gauging her reaction. Her lips were slightly parted, and her cheeks flushed, but she said nothing.
"Come here," You whispered. This kiss was more sensual. Mainly for her benefit and partly because you'd wanted to taste her for a while. You sucked on her bottom lip, eliciting a soft moan from the young woman.
"I can see why you're a married woman," Wanda whispered.
"I've got some moves," You smirked.
"So do I," Wanda replied, suddenly pulling you back in. Her lips were hungry and insistent, and her tongue flicked against yours, drawing another soft moan from the depths of your throat.
"I leave for two minutes," Natasha sighed. She had three filled wine glasses balancing in her hands. "I take it you're up for the offer."
"I'm still considering," Wanda replied, though her eyes were glued to your lips. "We should discuss this over wine."
Natasha grinned. "Good plan. Here's your glass." She handed Wanda the red wine before sitting next to you. She reached for the remote, flicked the TV off, and plunged the room into semi-darkness. Only the soft glow from the kitchen light illuminated the living room.
Wanda gulped down her glass of wine as you looked at her amusedly. When her glass was empty, she softly set it on the table. "Are you guys in an open marriage?"
"No," Natasha answered. "Not open. We just like you."
"I'm not a homewrecker," Wanda insisted.
"It's not a wreck if we want to share," You said.
Wanda took a deep breath, looking between you and Natasha. She chewed on her bottom lip as she contemplated your proposition. You could tell she was nervous but also intrigued.
"If it's too much, we can stop whenever you want," Natasha reminded her.
"Can I kiss you?" Wanda asked her.
"I'd be upset if you didn't."
Wanda's lips crashed against Natasha's. Their lips locked, their tongues meeting as the two women explored each other. The sight was breathtaking, and you could feel the arousal growing within you.
You took a long sip of your wine, watching them. There were key differences in how you kissed and Natasha kissed. Natasha was more hands-on with her kissing, opting to feel whatever part of your body she could get her hands on. You could see them twitch in her lap out of the corner of your eye. Her kisses were confident and sensual. They left no doubt in your mind about what her intentions were.
Wanda's hands rested against your thighs, occasionally gripping them. She was less intense and more curious. Her kisses were tentative, exploring the other woman's mouth slowly and deliberately. She clearly felt for Natasha, and you wondered if the redhead knew. It was a dangerous line to cross, but you were not giving up this opportunity.
You couldn't help but wonder if this was how Natasha felt the first time the two of you had sex. Seeing the two of them together was thrilling and a little surreal.
Natasha was the one to break the kiss. She pulled away with a sigh, licking her lips as she looked over at you.
"You've got good taste," She smirked.
"So do you," You winked.
"How far do we want to take this?" Natasha asked, looking over at Wanda. "The ball is in your court."
"I have some ideas," Wanda blushed. "But I'm a little afraid."
"Do you want to be the one getting fucked?" You asked.
"Yes," Wanda nodded.
"Do you want to fuck Natasha, or do you want her to fuck you?"
"I-I... I want you to fuck me," Wanda said.
"That can be arranged," You winked.
"And do you want me to watch, or do you want me to join?" Natasha asked, her fingers dancing along Wanda's arm.
"Whatever you'd like," Wanda said softly.
"We have plans for you yet," You rested a hand on the small of her waist. "I hope this is okay."
"This is great," Wanda said, leaning back as you kissed her neck. "Just different. I'm not used to being treated this way."
"Well, you deserve it," Natasha purred. "And so does my wife. She likes it a little rough. How do you like it?"
"I'm not sure," Wanda admitted. "I've only had sex a couple of times, and it wasn't amazing."
"Oh, honey," Natasha cooed. "We'll take good care of you. That's a promise."
"Okay," Wanda breathed.
"Come here," You grabbed her by the waist, pulling her over onto your lap. You kissed her gently, trying to soothe her. You didn't want her to feel uncomfortable or pressured; the last thing you wanted was for her to feel like an intruder.
Wanda moaned into your mouth as your tongue found hers, the tension in her shoulders gradually melting away. Your fingers crept under the hem of her shirt, gently rubbing the soft skin of her lower back.
"Do you want to take this to the bedroom?" Natasha asked.
"Yes," Wanda nodded, breaking the kiss and climbing off your lap. Natasha took her hand, leading her to the bedroom as you trailed. The room was dark and cool. She set Wanda up on the edge of the bed.
"I want to see you two kiss," She blushed.
"Oh, does that turn you on?"
"It always has," She nodded.
Natasha smirked. "Then we should oblige." She turned and kissed you, her hands cupping your face. Her lips were soft, and the taste of wine lingered on her tongue.
"Mm," Wanda hummed.
You'd wanted Natasha's hands on your body all night. She sucked on your tongue, drawing a soft moan from the depths of your throat.
"Fuck, that's hot," Wanda whimpered.
You smiled into the kiss, feeling Natasha's lips pull up at the corners. You broke the kiss and pulled her close, your bodies pressing against each other.
"Your turn," You said, gesturing towards Wanda. "Go easy on her."
"Wouldn't dream of doing otherwise," Natasha replied, her green eyes sparkling.
"Are you gonna strip, or are you waiting for me to do it?" Wanda teased.
Natasha laughed, walking over to the young woman and sitting beside her. She placed a hand on her thigh and leaned in, kissing her. This time, there was no hesitation.
Natasha kissed her hungrily, her fingers tracing circles against her bare skin. Wanda moaned softly, her body shivering. She broke the kiss, looking up at Natasha through thick lashes.
"Are you alright?" Natasha asked.
"More than," Wanda nodded.
"Can I touch you?"
"Please."
Natasha's hand trailed up her thigh and slipped underneath her shirt. Her hand found the soft cup of her bra as she used her thumb to tease Wanda's nipple through the material. To Wanda, it was perfect foreplay, but you knew better. Natasha was gauging Wanda's sensitivity. She did not disappoint.
"Mmm," Wanda sighed, her back arching slightly to get more feeling. "Fuck, that feels good."
"Does it?" Natasha smirked, continuing to rub the fabric. Wanda's nipple was hardening and beginning to peek out.
"Yes," Wanda whimpered.
"You want more?"
"Please."
Natasha's fingers slipped beneath her bra, her fingertips brushing against the soft, sensitive skin. Wanda moaned, her body jerking a little.
"Fuck, that's so good," Wanda whined.
"You like having your nipples played with, don't you?" Natasha purred.
"Y-yes," Wanda breathed.
Natasha smirked. "Good to know."
She kissed her again, her lips hungry and demanding. Wanda melted into the kiss, her body sinking into the mattress. You used that moment of distraction to begin unbuttoning Wanda's jeans. Your fingers made quick work of the buttons and zipper.
"Lift up for me, baby," You requested.
Wanda raised her hips, letting you slide the denim down her legs. You tossed them to the side, leaving her in her panties and her bra.
Natasha finally broke the kiss, and Wanda gasped for air. "You're so beautiful," Natasha murmured, eyes scanning the younger woman's body. "And you taste so sweet."
Wanda blushed. "Thank you," She said shyly.
"My turn," You grinned, kneeling between her thighs.
"Your wife has good ideas," Wanda hummed.
You spread Wanda's legs for her, noting the wet patch on the front of her underwear. Your mouth watered at the sight.
"You've been wanting this for a while," You mused as you approached her. You used your knuckle to brush against the wet spot finding her clit with ease.
"Shit," Wanda gasped.
You smirked at the reaction.
"I'd ask you what you were thinking, but I think it's fairly obvious." You teased, rubbing slow, firm circles around her clit.
Wanda moaned, her body writhing beneath you. "F-fuck."
"Don't make her come so fast," Natasha warned as she pinched Wanda's nipples between her fingers.
"Sorry, babe," You smirked, pulling your hand away.
Wanda let out a soft whimper at the sudden loss of contact.
"We can't have that," Natasha purred. She moved her hands from Wanda's chest and slid her fingers underneath the waistband of her underwear. "Lift up for me, pretty girl."
Wanda obeyed, raising her hips once again. Natasha hooked her fingers around the fabric and tugged them down. She tossed them over her shoulder, her green eyes raking over Wanda's exposed skin.
"Fuck," Natasha muttered.
"What is it?" Wanda asked.
"You're just so... fucking gorgeous,"
"I didn't shave," Wanda apologized. "I didn't exactly plan for this."
"Doesn't matter," You shook your head. "Natasha, hold her." You raised your chin. Natasha immediately knew what you were asking of her. She moved across the bed and leaned back against the pillows and headboard. She patted the spot between her legs for Wanda to come and sit. Wanda leaned back against Natahsa's front.
You grabbed Wanda's thighs, pulling her down the bed and spreading her legs, her glistening pussy on display for you. You didn't hesitate to lean in and lap up her slit. Her taste exploded on your tongue, the sweet taste of her arousal coating your tastebuds.
"Fuuuuck," Wanda groaned.
"You're doing so good," Natasha murmured, her hands massaging Wanda's tits and belly.
You continued to lick her, her taste and scent surrounding you. You moaned softly, loving the way she writhed beneath you.
"Y-you're really good at that," Wanda panted, her body jerking and trembling. "MMM," She moaned softly.
You could feel her pussy getting wetter and wetter with each flick of your tongue.
"She's very skilled," Natasha chuckled.
"Oh, fuck," Wanda moaned, her head falling back. "Please."
You hummed softly, the vibration adding to her pleasure.
"Oh, please, oh," Wanda whimpered.
"She's really sensitive," Natasha mused. "Do you like that?" She asked.
"Y-yes, it feels amazing," Wanda stammered.
You smirked, swirling your tongue around her clit. Her thighs trembled in response, and you knew she was close.
"You don't know how long we've been wanting you," Natasha murmured into her ear. She nuzzled her neck with her nose.
"R-really?"
"You're gorgeous," Natasha murmured, her voice soft. "Of course."
"So are you," Wanda breathed.
"We could've done this so long ago," Natasha said, kissing her cheek.
Wanda didn't answer, and you weren't sure if she was even listening. Your tongue was buried deep in her pussy, and her legs were quivering. Natasha's hands moved to her thighs, forcing her to keep her legs open as you sucked her clit into your mouth.
"OH, oh, I'm going to..." She trailed off, her orgasm hitting her. Her body tensed, her legs trembling. You didn't stop, your tongue flicking over her sensitive nub.
"Mm," Natasha hummed.
Wanda's entire body tensed, and her back arched off the bed. You kept your tongue on her, tasting her orgasm as it flowed out of her.
"Shit," She panted.
"How was that?" You asked, finally pulling away.
"Good," She replied. "Amazing."
"We're not finished yet," Natasha said. "We're just getting started."
"You've been a really good girl," You smiled.
"Yeah?" Wanda asked, still trying to catch her breath.
"Yes," You nodded. "We've been talking about this for a while."
"You have?"
"Yes," Natasha smiled. "And now, you're all ours."
"Yes," Wanda nodded. She reached for you, pulling you to her and tasting herself on your tongue.
"I think she likes it," Natasha smirked.
"Yeah," You nodded.
"Can I touch you?"
"Sure," You shrugged. "Where do you want to touch me?"
"Everywhere," Wanda admitted. "Will you show me how to pleasure her?" She leaned her head onto Natasha's shoulder to see her eyes. The two of you shared a smirk. Wanda assumed that Natasha usually took a more dominant role in the bedroom. If only she'd seen you a couple nights ago, with Natasha begging you to fuck her as you made her come for the second time.
"Start with her neck," Natasha instructed. "And her ears. Those are two of her most sensitive areas."
Wanda followed her instructions. Her lips pressed against your neck, and her teeth grazed your earlobe.
"Mmm," You hummed, tilting your head to the side.
"That's good," Natasha praised.
"Do you want my shirt off?"
"Yes," Wanda nodded.
You reached down, pulling the shirt over your head. The cold air hit your bare skin, causing your arms and chest goosebumps.
"Now her nipples," Natasha murmured, watching Wanda closely.
Wanda nodded, her fingers finding your nipple and pinching it.
"Ooh," You gasped.
"She's more sensitive there than I am," Natasha explained.
"Not true," You moaned.
"Oh, hush," She smirked.
"Keep doing that," You urged as Wanda wrapped her lips around your nipple. You straddled her lap, effectively pinning her to Natasha as you looked into your wife's eyes.
"Look at her," Natasha smirked. "So pretty."
Wanda looked up at you, her lips still wrapped around your nipple. You cupped her cheek, smiling at her.
"Such a good girl," Natasha praised.
Wanda's eyes fluttered closed at the praise, her body melting into yours.
"She's perfect," Natasha murmured, her voice low.
"Mhmm," You agreed, running a hand through Wanda's hair.
Wanda's hands roamed your body, exploring every inch of your skin. She was so curious, so eager, and it made you smile.
"You're so sexy," Wanda said softly when her lips released your nipple with a pop. "Both of you."
"And so are you," Natasha cooed.
"You've got great boobs," Wanda hummed.
"Why thank you," You grinned.
"Do you mind if I kiss her again?"
"Go right ahead," Natasha replied.
Wanda pressed her lips against yours, her hands roaming your back.
"Do you want to touch her more?" Natasha asked.
"I think so," Wanda nodded. "But I don't know where to start."
"Just explore," Natasha replied.
Wanda's hands explored your body, her fingers tracing patterns along your skin.
"That's so good," You breathed.
"She's so responsive," Wanda smiled.
"Yeah, she is," Natasha agreed.
Wanda's fingers trailed down your stomach, her hand slipping into your pants. Her fingers found your pussy, sliding along the wetness.
"Oh, god," You moaned, your hips bucking forward.
"Does that feel good?" Wanda asked.
"Yes," You moaned.
Wanda's fingers moved up and down, sliding easily along your pussy. This was her first time touching another woman. She wanted to see and feel everything.
"Fuck," You breathed, your hips bucking.
"So wet," Wanda purred.
"Yeah, that's what happens when someone has you as a lover," Natasha said, her voice dripping with lust.
"Right there," You sighed as Wanda's fingers clumsily found your clit.
"Here?"
"Y-yeah," You moaned.
Wanda's fingers worked your clit, her pace quickening.
"Mm," Natasha hummed.
"F-fuck," You whimpered, your hips jerking.
"Good girl," Natasha purred.
Wanda continued her ministrations, her fingers rubbing your clit.
"O-oh," You moaned.
"That's it," Natasha encouraged.
Your thighs began to tremble, your orgasm building.
"C-close," You stammered.
"Come for her," Natasha said.
"Fuck, yes," Wanda growled.
"OH," You moaned, your body tensing as your orgasm washed over you. Wanda's fingers continued to work, her pace unrelenting.
"Fuck," You breathed, your hips grinding against her.
"That's a good girl," Natasha said softly.
"Damn," Wanda smiled.
"That was really good," You said, taking a moment to breathe.
"It was," Wanda nodded. She helped you pull the sticky underwear and sweatpants from your body.
"How much can you take?" You asked Wanda.
"What do you mean?"
"Do you want Natasha to fuck you? Or do you want me to fuck you?"
"I don't know," Wanda admitted. "You choose."
"Hmm," You chuckled to yourself. You reached over to your nightstand, grabbed one of your favorite straps, and tossed it to Natasha. "She needs you."
"Is that so?" Natasha grinned, holding the strap-on.
"Yes," Wanda nodded, looking up at the redhead.
"How badly do you want it?" Natasha teased.
"I want it," Wanda answered, her voice shaky.
"Are you scared?"
"A little," Wanda admitted.
"We have you," You reassured her. Natasha removed herself from the bed to adjust the strap. It wasn't too big. Six and a half inches. It was perfect. She returned to the bed and kneeled between Wanda's thighs.
"We'll go slow," Natasha promised.
"Okay," Wanda nodded, taking a deep breath.
Natasha's hand slipped between her legs, testing her readiness.
"Fuck," Wanda gasped.
"That's good," Natasha smirked, pulling her hand back. "Ready?"
"Y-yes," Wanda said, nodding.
Natasha lined the dildo up with her pussy and pushed it in, her hands on either side of her hips.
"Oh, God," Wanda moaned, her eyes squeezing shut.
"How does it feel?"
"Good," Wanda whimpered.
"Just breathe, honey," Natasha cooed. From beside them, you offered moral support. You knew this feeling, and it was a good feeling.
"Fuck, it's a lot," Wanda panted.
"Do you need a minute?"
"No, keep going," Wanda urged.
Natasha obliged, pushing further into her.
"Oh, God," Wanda moaned.
"Good girl," Natasha murmured. Your eyes zeroed in on the strap pushing into Wanda's tight hole.
"Fuck," Wanda whined, her hips squirming.
"You're doing great," You praised.
"I know," Wanda groaned, her cheeks turning pink.
Natasha bottomed out, her hips flush against Wanda's.
"There we go," Natasha hummed.
"Oh," Wanda moaned, her body adjusting to the strap. Her clit brushed against Natasha's pelvis.
"That's better," Natasha smiled.
"Feels... different," Wanda admitted.
"Good or bad?"
"Just... different."
"You'll get used to it," You reassured her.
"Is that what it's like for you?" Wanda asked, looking at you.
"Sort of," You nodded. "But I usually have something inside me, too."
"Can I touch you again?" Wanda asked.
"Of course," You replied, spreading your legs.
Wanda reached over, her fingers finding your clit and rubbing slow circles around it.
"Mmm," You moaned.
"You have a pretty pussy," Wanda cooed.
"Thank you," You blushed.
"Do you mind if I taste it?"
"No, I don't mind," You shook your head. You knew the implications of what she was asking and obliged. In one swift move, you were straddling Wanda's head. She used one hand to wrap around your thigh and the other to dig into Natasha's back as the other woman thrust into her.
"Ooh," Wanda gasped as Natasha's hips met hers.
"Mm, fuck," You whimpered as her tongue lapped at your pussy.
"Tastes good," She muttered.
"You're so good," Natasha purred, her fingers digging into Wanda's hips.
Wanda moaned against your pussy, the vibrations sending shivers through your body.
"O-oh," You gasped.
Wanda's tongue flicked over your clit, her lips wrapping around it. You did the same to her earlier, and it drove her wild. She figured the same would be for you.
"Holy shit," You breathed, your hips grinding against her.
"Fuck, I can't," Natasha whined, her hips snapping.
"You're doing so good," You encouraged.
"Mm-hmm," Wanda mumbled, her tongue licking up your slit. If someone were to walk in right now, they'd either be horrified or incredibly turned on. The sound of the bed creaking against the floor and your mingled moans were the only things that could be heard.
"You're doing amazing, baby," Natasha praised, her hips moving faster and harder.
"You're going to make us both come," You groaned.
Wanda whimpered beneath you. She'd never experienced something as euphoric as this moment. Even if her neck strained and he tongue was tired, she was not giving up. She felt the delicious ache of the strap filling hr, and your arousal coated her tongue.
"Oh, god," You moaned, your thighs trembling.
"Fuck," Natasha growled, her hips thrusting.
Wanda's hands dug into your thighs, her nails leaving small crescent marks.
"I-I'm gonna," You stammered.
"Do it," Wanda murmured, her lips moving against your pussy. You came, reaching out to the headboard to hold you up as you thrust against her tongue. You tried to be mindful of the fact that she could suffocate, but Wanda only locked in more. She pulled you down, sucking gently on your clit, prolonging your orgasm. Not too shortly after, she was thrown into her own unexpected orgasm as Natasha thrust harder.
"F-fuck," Natasha grunted.
"Holy shit," Wanda whimpered, her hips bucking.
Natasha's hips jerked, her grip tightening.
"Shit," You swore.
"FUCK!" Wanda moaned, her legs trembling.
Natasha's body tensed, her thighs shaking.
"Oh, God," She groaned.
"Oh my," You breathed.
Wanda let out a shaky moan, her body writhing beneath yours.
"Wow," She whispered.
"You're doing amazing," You panted, climbing off her head.
"That was incredible," Natasha breathed, slowly pulling the strap out of Wanda's pussy.
"Thank you," Wanda smiled, her chest heaving.
"You're such a good girl," Natasha smiled.
"You are," You nodded. "I can't believe that was your first time."
"Really?" Wanda asked.
"Absolutely," Natasha replied.
"Well, I guess it was worth the wait."
"I'm sure," You laughed, crawling into the middle of the bed.
"Do you need anything, babe?" Natasha asked.
"Maybe a glass of water," You smirked.
"Okay," Natasha nodded. She kissed you and then kissed Wanda.
"You're going to stay, right?"
"If you want me to," Wanda smiled.
"We'd love for you to," You grinned.
"Then, yes," She nodded.
"Good," You smiled, kissing her gently.
"We're keeping her," Natasha said as she walked out of the room.
"Definitely," You grinned. "Can you go again?" You asked her as your hands trailed across her body.
"Y-yes," Wanda answered, her eyes fluttering closed.
"Good," You hummed, nuzzling your face in her neck.
"That was... wow," Wanda breathed.
"It was," You nodded, pressing soft kisses against her neck.
"I never thought I'd actually have sex with someone, let alone two people," She said.
"You haven't really dated before?"
"No," Wanda replied, shaking her head.
"We've known each other for a long time," You noted. "This feels natural."
"It does," Wanda agreed.
"It's like you're part of our little family already."
"I think so," She smiled.
"I'm glad you feel that way."
273 notes · View notes
ashwhowrites · 3 days ago
Note
Ohhh babes I saw you want angst and YES Miscommunication + secret dating TOTES SOUNDS 🔥 . So, Eddie n reader dating on the dl bc Eddie worried reader would get treated bad or bullied?? but he didn’t actually tell her that Just asked to keep it secret/quiet/whatev. So maybe Billy Steve or ??? knows Eddie is her friend and asks Eddie like whats she like, she dating anyone, I wanna take her out.
And Eddie straight panics and instead of oh she’s got a boyfriend at another school or some smart… he down talks her. she boring, annoying, she always [thing reader actually does alot!], dont bother. And course reader hears and is right devastated and thinks thats why the dl, cause he’s embarrassed/using her for sex/it’s all a big joke to him.
After end of day in private she breaks up with him, doesn’t say she overheard. Eddie has no idea what he did wrong, she avoids him, won’t talk. He’s broken. Finally he finds out she heard what he said and what she thinks. Could it end happy eventually? Like maybe he makes a loud speech like he does on the caff tables to show he’s never been embarrassed of her, yeah?
Hurt me with the angst babes. Xoxo
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
DL
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Y/N wasn't the best at keeping secrets, everything she felt was said on her face. She never saw the point in secrets, which is why she felt like the biggest hypocrite in the world. Because here she was keeping her whole damn six month relationship a secret.
It wasn't that she wanted to. Her boyfriend begged her and she tried to understand. She loved being with Eddie and it hurt to be a secret. She wanted to be with him so she agreed to give him time.
She felt like six months was enough time. She was growing a little irradiated and bothered. Anytime they talked about it Eddie said he was ready. But it never seems to happen.
Eddie locked the van and the two began walking towards the small restaurant. Y/N walked close by, her hand inching to slide her hand in his. Upon contact, Eddie was fast to move his hand in his pocket. Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat and added a bit of space between them.
"About time," Dustin groaned, welcoming the two to the table. Y/N sat across, moving over for Eddie to fit in the spot next to her. She wasn't surprised when he took the seat next to Dustin instead, but it still hurt.
"What's that?" Dustin asked, noticing a dark mark on Eddie's neck. Y/N felt her cheeks burn as she realized she left something behind from their makeout earlier. Dustin flicked the mark, making Eddie hiss.
Eddie quickly looked at Y/N, her smirk obvious. "Nothing."
"That's a hickey! Who are you getting nasty with?" Dustin teased
"Some random chick at the bar, drop it," Eddie hissed through his teeth. Y/N knew it was a lie, obviously, but hearing his lie made her stomach turn.
"Damn dude, massive hickey," Steve laughed as he joined the group, sliding into the open spot near Y/N. Eddie stiffened when Steve was shoulder-to-shoulder with her.
"Yeah apparently a chick at the bar," Dustin giggled, "Was it Lauren? She always looks at you after your shows."
Eddie gulped as Y/N's hard gaze landed on him. She'd been to see him play a few times, and she didn't know who this Lauren was.
"Lauren? Who's that, Eddie?" she asked, a fake smile plastered on her face
"I've never talked to her, so I don't know who she is. And it wasn't her so like I said, drop it," Eddie demanded. The table got awkward as Eddie fumed as he looked over the menu.
Y/N couldn't help but glare at him over the top of her menu. Maybe she wasn't the only secret girl in his life.
"Anyway, how is your day going?" Steve asked, Eddie looked up to see who the question was for. His blood boiling as Steve turned his body to face Y/N completely.
Dustin tried to talk to Eddie, but he was laser-focused on Steve flirting with his girlfriend.
~~~
Eddie didn't realize how big of a mistake it was to be a secret until he was hit with the reality of someone wanting her.
"DON'T RUN!" Steve yelled as the gang ran through the arcade. Eddie laughed as they ignored him, running without a care in the world.
Eddie went to walk away but Steve grabbed his arm. Eddie froze and looked down at his hand, making Steve retreat.
"Sorry, I just wanted to ask you something," Steve said. He nervously put his hands in his pockets. "You and Y/N are pretty close right?"
Eddie felt a hot rush of jealousy run through his body, just by hearing another man say her name. "Why?"
"Do you know if she's seeing anyone? The few times she's been around I couldn't keep my eyes off of her. I want to ask her out," Steve explained. Eddie scoffed at the red blush that coated his cheeks. He was blushing over his girlfriend?
"Y/N, oh you don't want to ask her out!" Eddie scoffed, letting out a soft chuckle.
"Why?" Steve awkwardly laughed. Neither boy recognized Y/N walking up to them.
"She-she-uh- she's so clingy. I've heard from all of her ex-boyfriends that she's good in bed, but that's it. She's got a boring personality. She's a bit annoying, with all her "save the planet, don't do drugs, and cigarettes are poison". You look like an independent guy, Steve. Do you want a girl to nag and control you?" Eddie asked, planting a hard smack on the boy's shoulder. Steve hissed at the connection, rubbing the skin when Eddie removed his hand.
Y/N felt her throat burn as she took in Eddie's words. It all made sense now. He was embarrassed by her, hell he didn't even like her. He was interested in the sex, that's all she was good for. She swallowed her sobs and walked off. She didn't care to hear what Steve would say. She was falling in love with Eddie and he couldn't stand her.
Eddie smiled in victory as Steve walked off to a machine. With the sudden interest in Y/N, Eddie felt the need to see his girlfriend. He didn't bother to say goodbye to anyone, heading out to his van.
It didn't take long for him to arrive at her house. He parked his van down the street and snuck over to her window. He pulled himself up on her roof, thankful it was night so no one would be calling the cops.
He tapped on her window.
She sighed as she heard Eddie at her window. She wasn't ready to see him.
"Come on, baby. I wanna see you,"
She wiped off her face and walked to the window. She opened the curtain but didn't open the window.
"What the hell do you want?" She spat. Eddie flinched at the venom on her tongue.
"Woah, what the hell did I do?" Eddie asked.
"Are you going to tell people about us?" She asked, keeping her head held high.
"Baby," he sighed, she scoffed and shook her head. She already knows the speech.
"We're done, Munson. Now get the fuck off my roof," she hissed. She closed her curtains and raced to shut off her light.
Eddie stared at his reflection as he tried to process what happened. He rapidly knocked on her window but she never came back.
"Y/N!" He harshly whispered, looking over his shoulder to make sure no one was watching. He continued to knock but left that night with no reply.
~
The next morning Eddie was already racing back to her house.
But again, got no reply.
~~~
It took around three days for the gang to notice Y/N wasn't around. They all wanted to ask but there was this look on Eddie's face that made them scared to ask. Dustin was worried for his friend. Eddie was always moody and snippy. But now he seemed so sad and in pain. Dark bags under his eyes and his voice always sounded dry and cracked.
Steve felt a little awkward about it. Feeling like he was the cause of whatever happened.
No one in the gang was close enough to her to ask her what happened. So everyone was stuck with not knowing what went down between the two.
Eddie's eyes followed her everywhere. It seemed no matter where she went, those brown puppy eyes were warning her skin. She knew she'd suffer with seeing him at school, but she didn't think he'd be so obvious that he suffered too. She was shocked to see he was affected but she convinced herself she didn't care.
Eddie was falling apart and he didn't care to hide it. He had one amazing thing in his life and he fucked it up.
Eddie let another week pass before he got desperate. He knew he was going to look insane, but he was done. The next time he saw her, in the halls at school, he quickly picked her up and locked them in a classroom.
"Are you insane!" She hissed, slapping him as he dropped her.
"It's time we talk,"
"I don't want to talk, Eddie. I told you we're done," she went to walk past him but he stepped in front of her.
"Can I explain myself? If you knew why I kept us a secret, it might help," he pleaded but she shoved him against the wall.
Her face was close to his as she stared him down. "I know exactly why you wanted to keep us a secret."
"You do?" He gulped. He was embarrassed that he got bullied as practically a young man.
"I heard everything you had to say to Steve. So no, knowing that my boyfriend doesn't even like me doesn't help at all! I'm glad I gave you a few good fucks, asshole. I'll make sure to give Steve the best head of his life so he can ignore all the flaws about me."
Eddie growled as Steve's name left her lips. He harshly grabbed the back of her neck and shoved his lips against hers. He was possessive and jealous, reminding her he was the best she'd ever had. She fought to not kiss him back but she was weak. She melted into him and lost herself in his lips.
"No one will ever have you like I do," he growled.
She shoved him away from her. "Well to the whole world, I'm open to take."
"I made all that shit up, okay? I didn't want Steve to go after you. I got jealous and instead of telling the truth, I choked. I'm sorry for hurting you. I didn't mean anything I said."
"If you didn't mean anything you said, then why am I still your secret?" she whimpered. She felt exhausted from the secrets, it was making their relationship harder than it needed to be. "I am so tired of being ignored by you. I feel used when we have sex and the very next day, I'm nothing to you. You don't want anyone to have me, yet it seems like you don't even want me." Eddie frowned as tears slipped down her face.
"Please don't cry, baby. I do want you, and I'll always want you. It's just that I'm a loser, baby. The town hates me, and I'm a held-back senior who still gets bullied by the jocks. It's embarrassing, I'm embarrassing. And I didn't want you to receive the treatment I get. You don't deserve to be treated like shit because you gave me a chance," he explained. She could see all the emotion in his eyes and she sensed all the truth he spoke. "I thought I was protecting you but I can see I did it all wrong."
"I don't care about anyone or what they think. All I've wanted was for us to be together," she whispered as she cupped his face, allowing him to press his body against hers.
"I'm sorry for everything. I love you so much and I want everyone to know. I don't want anyone to think they have a chance with you," he muttered, his lips inches away from hers.
"Then show them,"
He smirked and ran out the door. She wasn't sure where he was going to go, quickly following. He busted through the cafeteria doors and stood on a table with his dirty sneakers.
"Eddie!" Y/N hissed but he sent her a wink.
"ATTENTION PLEASE!" the room went quiet as they turned to look at Eddie. Some people whispering.
"IS ANYONE HERE INTERESTED IN THE LOVELY Y/N?"
She felt her skin burn as the attention turned to her. She begged Eddie to get done but this was what she asked for.
Eddie didn't wait for anyone to answer, "TOO BAD. SHE'S MY GIRLFRIEND!"
"Can you get down here now?" she asked, Eddie stepped down and the cafeteria went back to talking among themselves.
"That work for you?" he asked, scooping her in his arms. She laughed and nodded. He gave her a quick peck on the lips before a teacher came over to discipline him for his commotion.
"See you after detention, m'lady," another wink sent her way.
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runninriot · 2 days ago
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Lovelorn
written for @steddiemicrofic
november prompt: guard | wc: 532 | rated: G | tags: confessions, misunderstandings, not really unrequited love, implied friends to lovers
"I'm sorry, Steve."
The words hit him like a slap, a harsh contrast to the soft touch of Eddie's lips he can still feel on his own, lingering there, an echo of the kiss they shared just seconds ago.
Steve knows that tone, knows that look, knows what they both mean - this is what he gets for letting his guard down. For ignoring his mind's warnings and following his heart's demands. Foolishly reading something into signs that were none.
Interpreting dimpled smiles and batted lashes as more than what they truly are. Thinking the way Eddie touches him, circles around him, always in his orbit, always so close, means that he, too, feels this gravitational pull. This need for closeness, unable to stay away because apart from each other, they're only half of who they are, who they could be.
But no. It's a one-sided feeling; Steve knows that now. Can read it in eyes that are full of regret and pity, knows Eddie means what he says, that he is sorry, but that doesn't make it better, doesn't help soothe the sting of rejection.
It hurts, fucking rips him apart on in the inside - that's what he gets for carrying his heart on his tongue and shoving it down Eddie's throat without asking for permission first, blinded by the illusion that Eddie would gladly take what Steve offers and give something of his own in return.
"I can't be what you want me to be."
Eddie's eyes fill with tears and there's something utterly wrong about it - why is he the one crying when it's Steve's heart that's breaking?
He takes Steve's hands and it's unfair how nice that feels, how soft and warm they are. How perfect the shape of their fingers melt together when they entwine, sliding into the gaps like they're made to fit.
It's not right to cling to it, to find comfort in the way their palms press together, to let hope bloom in his chest when there is no hope for a happy ending.
"I can't do this-"
Eddie's voice is only a whispered breath against his lips and Steve feels like dying, feels every part of him begging to close the distance just for one last time, just one more taste.
"-not if this only a game to you. Not if you don't mean it. I can't be your experiment, Steve, because- I love you. Want you so much it hurts. And it would kill me to have you if I can't have you for real."
Steve wants to laugh, feels it bubbling up from his chest to his throat but it dies there, dissipates into a sob, something wet and helpless, a pathetic little sound he can't keep in no matter how hard he tries.
"You already have me, you idiot!" he yells and means himself with the insult, doesn't wait for a response, can't stop himself from leaning in.
He kisses Eddie without warning, like before, only deeper, desperate. It's ungraceful and messy but so good because Eddie kisses him back this time, doesn't pull away, stays. Stays where he belongs, where Steve wants him, needs him. Where he'll keep him, forever.
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birdyshewrote · 2 days ago
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“Birthday Girl”
Wolverine x Female!Reader
written by birdy
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Wade Wilson throws you a rink-a-dink birthday party every year, and this year is no exception. But this time, you have a new guest.. and he’s been watching you for a while.
Notes- hi. ive never written a fic before EVER, so pls be nice. this is mainly for me to be able to get my thoughts out of my head because I’ve been thinking about this man for way too long. happy birthday bitches 🫶
WARNINGS/TAGS: smut- 18+ Logan Howlett x Female!Reader, Logan calls reader “Kid”, light smoking and alcohol consumption, Wade being a menace
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You had caught glances of him a few times in the hall. The scent of smoke, leather and alcohol that belonged to only him drifted in the air behind him for a few seconds even after he had walked into the apartment room across from yours. There had been a few times where you stepped into the elevator and musky cigar smoke had filled the small space. You didn’t complain though, secretly savoring the intoxicating smell, taking more, quicker breaths than you needed too. You couldn’t deny the knot it put in your stomach and the weakness it put in your legs before stepping out of the elevator, down the hall and into your own room.
Eventually, you were tired of the mystery. Two weeks into the seemingly one sided tension, you trapped your long time friend and even longer time across-the-hall neighbor, Wade Wilson, into the elevator with you. Ever since the stranger had moved in with Wade, he had stopped inviting you over. Your birthday was coming up, and so was your annual not-so-surprised birthday party. Once the elevator doors closed, you started,
“Hey, who’s your new roomie?”
Wade scoffed, putting a hand across his heart on his chest, the other gripping a full black trash bag that smelt of blood and for some reason bubblegum scented air fresheners. “THATS how I am greeted nowadays? No, ‘Hello Wade’, ‘Looking good Wade’, ‘Here’s that five bucks I owe you Wade,’
You roll your eyes, putting a hand on your hip stepping away from him. “Okay, first of all, I do not owe you five bucks. You OFFERED to pay for the funeral arrangements after you killed my fish-“
“He looked hungry, who knew fish could be over fed?” He interrupted.
“I told you before I left!” You argue back. “I was only gone two days and you-“ You rub your forehead and shake your head, frustrated. “Whatever. Not relevant. Hello Wade, you do look good.” You say, defeated.
Wade giggly adjusted his weight to his heels, to his tippy-toes, then back to his heels again “Thank you.” He said, satisfied, and turned back to the doors.
“You didn’t answer my question. Your roommate? Who is he?” You ask again as the elevator dings and the doors creakily open.
He raised an eyebrow, looking at you sideways as the two of you walked down the small lobby. “Uhm, news flash doll face, Blind Al is not new. She’s an OG. Been here a while, silly.”
“Not Al.” Talking to Wade was like trying to a horse with dementia. “You know, ‘Mr Tall and Handsome,’ always sulking, ‘I don’t care about no smoking rules.”
Wade throws his head back, “Ooohhhh, you mean Peanut. What about him?”
“No introduction?” You ask confused, watching Wade as he carried his trash down the hall, holding the entrance door open for you.
“Well, I don’t know. I guess Iuh… I forgot.” He stuttered as he led you down the wet alleyway, towards the dumpsters.
“Last month you called me into your room to show me your new toothbrush. You have a new roommate and you just, ‘forget’ to introduce us?”
Wade shrugs, shifting the thin, plastic bag straps in his hand uncomfortably as he walked.
The truth was, Wade did not forget. The truth was, in fact, that one of the first things Wade had done was mention your existence to Logan before he was even fully settled in the apartment.
“I think you two would hit it off, hardcore. And I mean, HARD.” Wade had said.
“Absolutely not.” Logan grumbled, immediately shutting him down, not even looking up from the blow-up mattress he was unrolling in the living room.
Wade sat on the couch arm rest, looking down at the burly man. “Come on Wolvie, let a girl heal your cold, withered heart. You’re a tough, ‘don’t get too close’ typa guy, she’s an ‘I can fix him’ type of girl, I personally think it’s a perfect match.”
“Shut the fuck up. I’m telling you to drop it.” He snapped, glaring up at Wade. “I don’t need you playing Cupid here, you hear me? I swear to God, if I hear you that you’ve even said my name to anyone I’ll get the fuck out of here and never look back. I don’t need to be getting mixed up in any of that shit right now.”
Maybe years ago Logan would have been a flirt, he wasn’t new to women or relationships, but he had been through too much. He had lost too much. He’d never admit it, but the truth was, the infamous Wolverine was scared. Scared of intimacy, scared of getting attached, scared of loss, scared of you. Still, this didn’t change the fact that he had been secretly watching you leave your apartment through the safety of the peephole of his own door. And yeah, maybe if you weren’t so loud coming out of your apartment he wouldn’t know your schedule within a week. Like what time you wake up to leave for work or school, or what time you come home. What days you take your trash out or do your laundry. And when he found one of your sweaters lying around the apartment when he first moved in, what should he have done with it? He was holding onto it for safe keeping. And yeah, he knew it was yours, but only because your sugary perfume clouded his nostrils and made his head feel fuzzy. It was so recognizable, he knew immediately the sweater was yours. Maybe if you wouldn’t drown yourself in the body mist he wouldn’t instinctively know when you were just in the hall, he told himself. It wasn’t his fault he had animalistic smelling.
He couldn’t, however, find an excuse for how he’d hesitate in front of his door, watching for the elevator to stop at your shared floor, wait for the doors to open and inhale the scent of your panties from down the hall once you saw him, then he’d unlock his door and rush in quickly. Sometimes if he was unlucky he’d steal a glance of your full body out of the corner of his eye.
None of this meant anything though. He could contain the animalistic urges he had towards you. Especially when he caught a glimpse of your thigh when you knelt to pick up a dropped grocery. He could handle himself when he heard your thick, sweet laugh through walls when watching a show or movie. But at the same time, what harm would it cause if he touched himself while inhaling the scent of your hair, sweat and perfume through your abandoned sweater late at night? And keeping it locked away in a locked dresser wasn’t creepy, it was just there until you asked Wade to look around for it.
He could handle himself from a distance. He knew this. He knew his limits.
He had been woken up from the couch after a long afternoon of drinking and despair by a loud “SURPRISE!” followed by laughter and clapping. He did not know there was a party going on, let alone a party for you. He was completely blindsided when you were standing within ten feet of him, in his living area, talking to Al and Wade and the others, laughing that sweet laugh
Shit..
Where could he escape? The front door was no longer an option, everyone was clustered in front. Maybe he could make a run for it through the bedroom and out the window? Or maybe take his chances down the escape ladder through the-
“Sleeping beauty has awaken!”
Shit.
Before you could blink, Wade was pulling you through the small cluster of friends to the couch, where a very confused, very hung over, very huge piece of man stood like a deer in headlights. This was your first time seeing him up close, and shit was he alluring. His hair was untamed and messy from his interrupted sleep, his thick brows furrowed. Frown lines prominent as his large muscles twitched under his shirt-
“Hey, his eyes are up there you horn dog.” Wade publicly snapped you back into reality. Immediately flustered, you began trying to save the situation that was doomed from the start.
“I wasn’t looking at- I wasn’t even doing anything, Wade!”
“It’s okay, I know you weren’t. He’s just a moron.” He put an understanding hand up as he spoke. Fuck his voice was so deep and low, almost a growl. It felt rich and threw shivers straight to the back of your throat and straight into the dark jeans you wore. You swallowed. Hard.
After an awkward greeting, Wade had basically pushed a drink into both of your hands and left you to fend for yourself. Logan took a seat on the couch, the worn furniture dipping under his weight. He was clearly uncomfortable. He kept his eyes low, rarely meeting yours. He threw his arm over the head of the couch, spreading his knees. He pulled out a cigar and gestured to it. You couldn’t tell if he was offering you one or asking if you’d mind if he smoked, you shook your head no to both. You politely sat next to him, pulling your legs under yourself next to him.
Unfortunately, this man was not the easiest to speak to.
“So, Logan. You’re new.” You fidget with the cup in your hands.
He lets out a low “Mhm” while taking a puff, then lets smoke pool out of his mouth and drizzle out of his nose, before speaking again. “Yeah. Don’t really know how I ended up here. Just, kind of did.”
You nod, looking around the room. 2016-2018 pop hits played on the pink Hello-Kitty speaker Wade had bought for himself, now sitting on the kitchen table next to the drinks. Various characters lounged around the apartment chatting and eating pizza and drinking.
“Seen you around, y’know.”
You turn to face him again.
“Oh?” You ask, sipping your drink.
He nods in return. “If you need help bringing groceries up to your room or somethin’, you can just let me know. Heard you drop a few things before.” His top lip twitches just the slightest in what you assume is his version of a smile. He puts the cigar back into his mouth and chews.
You furrow your brows at the sarcastic banter. “Oh yeah? Didn’t know I had a stalker.” You bite back, smiling while doing so.
“Not stalking you, kid. Just minding my own business and getting interrupted every two seconds by my noisy neighbor.”
After this, the two of you spoke more fluid. Relating in Wade’s schemes and circumstances became a common interest. You felt yourself becoming more and more comfortable with the man’s presence. After your second drink, your leg rested against the rough denim of his thick thigh. He said nothing about it, so you continued to speak to him. You were unaware of what he was thinking or feeling.
He was freaking the fuck out. Especially when you asked him to go outside with him to get some air. He agreed, and the two of you slipped out of your own party. The night was dark as you walked through the city-lit pathway to the side of the building. Logan watches you and takes another puff of his cigar as you stretch in the open air. You sigh, relieved to be out of the stuffy room.
You could feel his eyes on you. The heat and heaviness of his lingering eyesight, watching your every move as if you were his prey. It made you nervous. It made you intrigued. You wanted to be in his sight, and he wanted to keep watching you.
“You shouldn’t smoke so much, shit’s awful for you you know.” You say, leaning on the brick building next to the tall, muscular figure.
He gives you a slow, sharp smirk in return, his canines showing through resting on the cigar.
Your heart begins to thump and he looks deep into your eyes, like he sees through you.
You let out a shaky exhale as your smile fades and take a step closer to him. He takes the cigar out of his mouth and looks down at you, shaking his head.
“You don’t want this, kid.”
You pause, trying to read his face in the dim lighting. “I do, and I think you do too.” You speak low and soft, like if you’re too sudden with your movements he’ll get startled and dash away. You slowly raise a hand and rest it on his hard, warm chest. You feel it rise and lower, he’s heaving now.
You bring your face up, closer to his. He doesn’t move, so you whisper into his own lips, “Logan, it’s okay.”
The light encouragement is what he needed. He looks down at your parted lips, pushes the lit cigar into the brick wall next to you, putting it out and dropping it, before muttering back,
“Well, you are the birthday girl.”
He leans down to give you what you’ve been asking him for, and what he’s been yearning for. He kisses you, slow and respectful at first, stepping in front of you. He puts his large, rough hand in between your head and the jagged building, protecting you as he pushes you against the wall. You bring a soft hand around the back of his neck, pulling him down farther into your space. He tastes like alcohol and smoke, and you couldn’t get enough. The kiss gets sloppier as you welcome his tongue into your mouth. You look at his face through squinted eyes, only to see his brows furrowed in deep concentration and self-discipline as to not overstep. You shut your eyes again as you grab his other hand, dragging it to your waist. He lets out a soft, low groan in response to the contact of your skin. Your waist feels so soft and warm is his heavy grip. He softly paws at your side, then up your loose shirt. He pauses underneath your bra, and you arch your back in response.
He breaks away, a trail of saliva connecting the two of you momentarily before breaking. “This okay? You’re sure? I can touch you like this?” He’s almost pleading, even with all of the consent in your body. He looks down at you, eyes half lidded.
“Yes, Logan. Stop asking me.”
He nods, smiling slightly, and slowly shifts his long, thick fingers underneath the garment, and towards your chest. He brings his mouth to yours again, greedily taking and lapping at your mouth. The scent of your arousal intoxicates to him. You clench your legs together, to which Logan uses his thick, sturdy knee to break you open and apart. You feel exposed to him now, resting on his knee. The rough denim rubbing sends jolts to your throbbing core. The kissing is wet, his stubble rubs against your lips as he gently bites your tongue with his canines. His hand gently gropes your breast, while pushing his knee against your dampening soft area. He brings his calloused hand down back to your waist, slowly guiding your hips to rock against his knee. He uses his other hand against your head to gently grip your hair and push your head closer against his mouth.
Logan didn’t get you a birthday present, but he was definitely making up for it.
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kooqitas · 14 hours ago
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#pairing: jungkook x reader.
#genre: smut MINORS DNI | #w.c: ~1800
#synopsis: crying on jungkook's shoulder might not have been the smartest idea in the world since now he's fucking you while your ex is calling.
#warnings: vaginal sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f.), namjoon ex bf, rough sex. jk has a bick dick. maybe phone sex?
★ m.list | inbox :D join my taglist
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it was friday when jungkook texted you asking if you were gonna the college party, and of course your answer was 'no'. breaking up with namjoon was one thing, but seeing him at a party where he would probably kiss several girls in front of you was a bit too much
"you can't stay home while the biggest party of the semester is going on"
'"yes i can, and i will!"
"god, why are you so complicated? at least come over to my house, i won't leave you suffering alone'
"i'm not suffering, jungkook!'
that's a lie. you were. a lot.
you ended up accepting jungkook's invitation, at first feeling bad for ruining the party for him, but jungkook was always the person who made you comfortable, usually when you went to parties with namjoon, he was the one who always stayed by your side while namjoon got drunk with his friends, he was the one who took you and namjoon home, the reality is that jungkook spent much more time by your side than your, now ex, boyfriend.
jungkook was excited, he came over and offered you wine and before you knew it you were on the couch, with your legs over his while he tried to convince you that it was namjoon who had lost you, not the other way around.
"he fuck so good, jungkook," you admitted, clearly overcome by the drink (added to your fertile period that made your panties damp at that very moment). "that pisses me off. he's arrogant, stupid, i hate him... but damn, the sex was so good"
jungkook laughed, as affected by the alcohol as you were, it's not like he'd never heard namjoon talk about sex with you, how wild and rough you two were.
it wasn't like jungkook had never heard you two...
but in that situation, knowing that you weren't together anymore, it was a little different...
"he pulled my hair, hit me, called me a whore, damn, it was so good, i can complain about him in many ways, except for this one, the son of a bitch made me cum like no one else"
"jesus!" jungkook said, taking a sip of his drink.
okay, things need to be pointed out, yes, jungkook was gorgeous, damn, he was hot, but you had never thought of him as a 'man' he was just your boyfriend's best friend, who always hung out with you at parties, who danced with you on the dance floor, who complimented your clothes and makeup, who complimented your smell, your lip gloss...
"i hope one day i can find someone who fucks me like him," you blurted out.
and jungkook took a deep breath, motivated a little by the drink, but deep down he knew that if it wasn't right then he might never have another chance. i mean, it was crazy, of course it was, who in their right mind would try to have sex with their best friend's ex-girlfriend when it hasn't even been a month since they broke up...
but jungkook wasn't the sanest person at the moment, in fact he never was when it came to you, not when he jerked off in the bathroom of namjoon's parents' beach house last month after seeing you parading around the pool in a red bikini.
"i can fuck you like him, in fact... i can fuck you even better"
"what?" you choked on your own saliva when you heard that.
jungkook took advantage of the fact that your legs were on top of his and started to leave a mischievous caress on your knee
"i told you i can fuck you better than him"
"jungkook..." you scolded him, but deep down that idea excited you.
"hi, love"
"fuck, that's not right"
"why not, why the hell are you so scared to do that?
"it's not for me, it's for you"
"well, i don't care... i've wanted to fuck you for a while now"
you choked again, but before you could say anything, jungkook took the glass from your hand and laid down with his body on top of yours.
you were going to ask again what the hell was that, what the hell was he doing, but jungkook kissed you, and there, fuck any lucid thought you could have.
the taste of wine in his mouth, his hot tongue entering your mouth with voracity, fuck any conscious shit, you needed to fuck with jungkook at that moment.
it was a blur until you were only in your panties underneath him while he sucked your tits, using his hand to play with the free nipple in a somewhat abrupt way, he seemed desperate, in reality, he was desperate, jungkook had been thinking about fucking you for so long that it seemed like a joke from the universe.
he finally took off his shirt and you smiled with his chest exposed, and jungkook just grunted, going back to kissing you while the tie of his shorts hit your waist. you knew he would be big, but nothing expected you for what you saw when he pulled down his shorts with his underwear all at once.
jungkook's cock was big, thick, full of veins and the purple head was already leaking precum. you couldn't hide your scared face when you saw it, making jungkook laugh.
'what's wrong?'
'fuck, that won't fit...'
'yes, it will, love, i'm gonna suck you and open you up for me, you're gonna take every inch of it and be a good girl on my cock!'
you gasped, agreeing, and jungkook laughed again, trailing kisses down your belly until he reached your panties... you quickly lifted your hips, a silent request for him to remove the fabric right away, and he obeyed.
the first thing jungkook did was smell your wet panties, the scene almost made you cum.
"if you taste as good as you smell, fuck, kitten..."
and jungkook sucked your clit, you moaned loudly, holding his hair. it was a mix of desperation and pleasure that you only felt when you had sex while stoned with your ex, and there was jungkook, ok, not 100% sober, but wanting you so fucking much...
you didn't even see when he inserted a finger, but at a certain point you were grabbing the couch's upholstery because he had three fingers inside you while he sucked your clit, your hips lifting desperately seeking more contact, at the same time trying to pull away, jungkook's long hair tickling your belly nicely, the way he put his fingers deeper and deeper...
you saw the ceiling of the room spin, and the next second jungkook had only his mouth on you.
sucking every drop.
you had never been sucked so well, but you were far from satisfied, so you were just grateful when without any prior warning jungkook entered you.
fuck, it burned, he was so fucking big. jungkook laughed, trying to contain his own arousal while you got used to his size. he ran his hand over your nipples, squeezing the tip, rubbing his fingertips on your belly, on your thigh... all while looking at you as if he wanted to devour you... and he did.
"jungkook..."
just his name was enough for him to understand, and then he thrust, his balls hitting you full on made you see stars. and the rhythm only increased, along with the brutality.
"i've wanted you like this for so long, fuck, imagining my cock destroying that tiny pussy"
you grabbed his shoulder, immersed in your own feeling and the noises you were making.
but something took you out of orbit.
ir rather, someone.
the shrill ring of the phone with the name 'namjoon' on the screen. you ignored the first call, the second, but on the third jungkook got irritated, he swiped right and simply accepted the call. your eyes widened, mumbling a 'what?'
but all jungkook said back was an 'answer', stopping his thrusting into you.
you obeyed.
damn the time you obeyed.
"where the fuck are you? why didn't you come to the party?"
"i... hm?"
"i'm asking why you didn't come to this fucking party, i got all dressed up, i bought a fucking bouquet, i bought your favorite chocolate, where the fuck are you?" namjoon was irritated, visibly irritated.
"i..." you tried to answer, fuck, what would you say to him? "i jus-OH" you moaned loudly, when jungkook moved inside you again, a little less aggressive than before, still strong.
you whispered a 'stop' but jungkook ignored it, laughing when you put your hand over your mouth trying not to moan loudly.
"you what?" namjoon questioned from the other side.
"i... i'm not very- very well" you choked on your own moans, while jungkook laughed.
you looked at him desperately, but he just laughed, whispering for you to continue talking on the phone. and of course you could hang up and end it all, but that feeling was so good... you felt like a slut, but you had never felt so good.
jungkook slapped your breasts audibly, enough for namjoon to hear.
"what's going on there?"
"nothing... is just thFUCK, JUNGKOOK!" you screamed without thinking as jungkook thrust even harder, the couch scraping on the living room floor as his balls slammed violently against you.
"wait, what? you said WHAT?"
at this point in the game, fuck any shit, you just ignored your ex-boyfriend, moaning loudly as jungkook fucked you like an animal, you knew namjoon was listening, he was following the line, but fuck any shit, you needed to cum, and thanks to this disgusting situation you would cum soon.
"are you fucking with my best friend? what type of whore are you?"
"my whore." jungkook took the phone from your hand, still thrusting angrily. "i'm fucking her delicious pussy, the one you kept telling me was tight, that it was delicious, fuck, you were right, it's so fucking delicious!"
and jungkook hung up, still laughing at you.
namjoon returned the call, the phone vibrating in jungkook's hand as he laughed evilly.
jungkook pressed the phone to your clit, the vibration being enough to make you cum exactly 10 seconds later, but jungkook went further...
he accepted namjoon's call, only to turn it into a video call, and then show his (maybe now ex) best friend, a video with a perfect angle of him cumming inside you.
before namjoon could say anything, jungkook hung up, his heavy body falling on top of yours.
"fuck that..." you tried to say.
"shhhh, let's think about it later? i just lost my best friend"
"do you regret it?"
"it depends... will I be able to fuck you more often?"
you thought, and it was pretty clear that you wanted to again, so why lie?
"if you want..."
"then no, fuck, i only regret not trying before..."
"u are crazy..." you laughed.
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motherismotheringggg · 3 days ago
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rhythm & heat
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summary: you and nicholas are co-stars in a fun and innocent PR relationship, the chemistry was already there so it just feels natural but something shifts when you, him and cast go out.
type: fem! reader x nicholas (i tried add some of Nicholas’ POV per my friend’s suggestion, it’ll be in red to stand out)
tags/warnings: 18+, fingering, oral (m! receiving), unprotected sex (wrap your willy yall) and creampie
author’s note: i’m having sooooo much fun writing again so thanks to everyone who’s been encouraging me to do it. i used to write in college and now that im 27 (almost 28 in january) it’s good to get back into it. i wanted to do something while im working on slow burn pt. 3 so i hope yall like it!!!!
🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩🪩
The bass pulsed through the club, sending ripples of heat and sound through the packed dance floor. Neon lights flickered overhead, casting an electric glow over the scene as bodies moved in sync with the music. The air was thick with anticipation, the kind that made everyone buzz with energy, like something wild could happen at any moment.
You and your co-star, Nicholas Chavez, were out celebrating the wrap of the second season—a well-deserved break after months of filming. The first season had been a hit, with fans and critics alike praising your performances and the chemistry you brought to your characters. And of course, that chemistry hadn’t gone unnoticed. Rumors about the two of you had been swirling since the first season, with fans speculating about what might be going on off-camera.
And they weren’t completely off. Your and Nicholas’s teams had decided that hinting at a romance would be the perfect, harmless way to build buzz for the next season. You weren’t usually one for gimmicks, but you both thought it’d be fun, and honestly, with the chemistry you two shared on screen, the idea didn’t feel far-fetched. Playing at “dating” off-screen just felt natural.
There were moments on set where the boundary between acting and reality seemed to blur. In one particularly intense scene, you and Nicholas’s character finished having sex and his hands roamed in a way that made sense for the character but caught you off guard, you leaned in to commit to the scene but you remember leaving the set that day with your heart fluttering.
Off set, at interviews and press events, the playful banter you shared made the rumors almost impossible to deny. During one red carpet appearance, when a reporter asked what Nicholas liked best about working with you, he leaned close and, in a low voice, said, “She makes me forget we’re acting.” The reporters loved it, and you could feel your cheeks warm under the spotlight.
Even your off-duty moments seemed to fuel the rumors. You remembered the night you and Nicholas went to see Sabrina Carpenter in concert and to avoid the crowds, you were escorted through hidden elevators in the arena. One of the elevators was especially small, so when you were pushed inside with security guards and crew, space was tight. Somehow, you ended up in the back corner, pressed chest to chest with Nicholas, his arm slipping around your waist to pull you closer.
When you joked about it later, he laughed, claiming he was just “making room” for everyone. But you couldn’t ignore the way his hand lingered at your waist during the two-minute ride—or how, when you shifted to get more comfortable, you felt his hardness through his jeans.
There were countless other moments and with another press run coming up, it just felt like you were still both “in character” all the time but for tonight, you just wanted to dance, let loose, and get ready for another thrilling media cycle. You, Nicholas and a few costars decided to go out to a boiler room club in the city. None of you had planned on playing into the rumors tonight, but as the crowd grew, Nicholas slipped into “boyfriend” mode without a second thought. His hand found your waist, guiding you through the crowd; he held your hand, lingered close, and let his touches drift to intimate places whenever you danced or laughed together.
The night felt electric. Drinks flowed freely, adding a warm edge to the pulsing bass that reverberated through the walls and floor. Your group had claimed a private section overlooking the dance floor, with a perfect view of the swirling neon lights below. Fans would catch glimpses of you and the cast, looking up with wide smiles, waving, and cheering to show their love. Some even made heart shapes with their hands or mouthed “We love you” as they danced. Every now and then, Nicholas would slide his arm around your waist, pulling you close for a quick fan photo or to lean in as he spoke over the music, his breath grazing your ear.
Nicholas could hardly keep his eyes off you. Even in the chaos of the club, you stood out—like a spark in the dark, drawing him in. The energy around you, the way you moved, the way you threw back your head to laugh at something your friend said… it made his chest feel tight. He’d been watching you for a while now, unable to shake the feeling that tonight was different.
At first, it was all casual, harmless fun. But as the night wore on and the drinks kept coming, you couldn’t help but notice a shift. Nicholas’s touches lingered a little longer, his fingers resting at your waist even when the picture was done or the conversation had shifted. The way he looked at you changed too—his gaze softened, his words slower, and his attention focused entirely on you, despite the crowd around you both.
When the group began to dance, he stayed close, his hand brushing yours, fingers grazing along your arm, almost as if testing the waters. As the music thumped, he moved nearer, his chest pressing lightly against your back, his hand slipping down to rest at your hip. Every touch, every shared laugh, felt charged, and you could feel the tension building in each small gesture. You’d been close to him before, but this was different—the alcohol, the music, the night itself seemed to bring out something more raw.
His thoughts became a blur of want, fueled by the subtle way your lips parted as you looked up at him. The pull was irresistible, drawing him closer as he traced his fingers along the small of your back, letting his thumb graze your hip in a possessive but tender gesture. He was intoxicated, not just by the alcohol but by you, by the way you felt so effortlessly right in his arms.
As you danced, his heartbeat quickened, his breaths shallow and erratic. He wondered if you knew what you were doing to him—how just being close to you made it feel impossible to think straight. Every touch, every whisper, was like fuel to a fire that had been smoldering since the moment he’d met you. He couldn't ignore it any longer, the way you’d somehow slipped beneath his skin. He wanted all of you—the quick wit, the mischievous grin, the soft vulnerability he saw in your eyes in quieter moments on set. And tonight, he wanted you in a way that left no room for pretense or careful boundaries.
You two were dancing face to face, the music vibrating through your chest as you moved in sync. Nicholas leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear, the warmth of his breath sending a jolt of heat through your body. His voice was low and smooth, a touch playful, as he whispered, “How’s my girl feeling tonight?”
His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you in closer, pressing your bodies together as if there was any space left between you two. You could feel the solid muscle of his chest against yours, the strength in his arms as they wrapped around you, grounding you in the moment. The heat of his touch lingered where his fingers gently grazed the curve of your waist, sending a wave of electricity through your skin.
You were attracted to Nicholas, no doubt about it. Up close, he was all intense, striking features that seemed made for this low, pulsing light. His deep-set brown eyes held a mischievous spark, the kind that always kept you guessing and a little on edge, even when the cameras weren’t rolling. His jawline was sharp, almost sculpted, and as he looked down at you, the soft stubble along it caught the neon glow, adding an edge to his otherwise boyish charm.
As you looked up, his tousled dark hair fell a bit across his forehead, framing his face in a way that softened his piercing gaze. His lips, full and inviting, curled into a subtle smirk as he looked at you, as though he knew exactly what kind of effect he had. You felt his fingers shift at your waist, his thumb tracing small, almost hypnotic circles against your hip, bringing a flush to your skin.
Despite the undeniable attraction, you hesitated to lean into whatever Nicholas was offering. Playing “relationship” was fun, but you knew getting involved with a co-star was a risky move. You flashed him a playful smirk, your voice teasing as you responded, “Your co-star is doing fine.” You took a small step back, creating just enough space to break the intensity between you two. But it wasn’t enough to stop the flirtation—you secretly hoped he’d pull you right back in.
He wasn’t having any of it. “Stop playing with me,” Nicholas groaned, his voice taking on that low, almost dangerous tone you couldn’t ignore. He leaned back down, his face just inches from yours, his breath hot against your skin. “You know I want you.”
His words sent a thrill coursing through you, the heat of his breath making your pulse race. Despite the hesitation, you could feel your body betraying you, urging you to close the space between you two again. His head lingered by your ear, his lips brushing against your skin, just barely a touch, sending a spark through you. Before you could pull back, his lips grazed the sensitive spot near your neck, planting soft, lingering “innocent” kisses.
The kisses were feather-light, almost teasing, yet each one felt like a jolt of electricity. They were gentle but purposeful, just enough to make your knees weaken and your womanhood tremble. His closeness, the warmth of his skin against yours, was intoxicating, and with every soft kiss, you found yourself craving more.
With a few sharp breaths and low moans, he knew he had you. The sound of his name on your lips, barely above a whisper, was all the confirmation he needed. You tilted your head to the side, offering him your neck, giving him full access to your skin. His hands, on your waist, pulling you even closer, his body flush against yours.
He didn’t hold back. His lips moved with confidence now, kissing the delicate curve of your neck with more urgency. Each kiss was deeper and more insistent, the pressure of his mouth leaving a trail of heat and need in its wake. His tongue darted out, tracing the sensitive skin beneath your ear, sending a shiver of desire straight through your body.
You could feel him smiling against your skin, sensing the way your body responded to his touch—how you instinctively leaned into him, drawn to the heat between you. His hands, bold and sure, roamed lower, the pads of his fingers grazing the curve of your back, sending a shiver of pleasure through you. The sensation was soft at first but quickly turned more intense, his touch growing bolder, more confident with each passing second. Every moment between you two felt like a slow burn, the anticipation building as his lips trailed over the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.
Then, when he shifted, you felt it—his hardness brushing against your thigh. The contact sent a wave of heat straight through you, an electric shock that heightened every nerve in your body. It was enough to make your pulse race, enough to make you realize how much you wanted him in that moment.
Without thinking, you reached down, your fingers gently grazing over the fabric of his pants, feeling the outline of him. The pressure of his body against yours, the growing heat between you two, made you want more—made you want to make him feel just as desperate for you as you felt for him.
You could feel the quickening of his breath, the way his chest rose and fell against yours. A low groan rumbled from his throat as you continued to trace his length, every brush of your fingers sending a thrill through both of you. His hands tightened around your waist, pulling you even closer, as though he couldn’t get enough of you either.
Without another moment passing, Nicholas grabbed your hand, his fingers tight around yours, pulling you through the crowded space. He moved with purpose, guiding you down the secret hallway the cast used to get into the club, away from the prying eyes and flashing lights. Each step seemed to quicken the pulse between you, the anticipation building with every turn. You felt his grip firm on your hand, but also the heat radiating off him, as though he couldn't wait any longer.
With just a few more steps, you found yourselves in the private dead-end hallway. It was dim, secluded—perfectly private. Before you could process what was happening, Nicholas had you pressed up against the cold wall, his body pinning you in place. The urgency in his movements left no room for hesitation as he slammed his lips onto yours, the kiss fierce, demanding. His mouth claimed yours with a hunger that mirrored your own, lips moving against each other as if he couldn’t get enough.
His hands weren’t idle either. One moved to your waist, gripping you tightly as if to keep you exactly where he wanted you, while the other traveled lower, finding its way to the waistband of your panties. His touch was deliberate and heated, and in an instant, his hand slipped beneath the fabric. His fingers brushed the sensitive skin just above them, the contact sending a shock of heat straight through you.
You gasped into his mouth, the electricity of his touch overwhelming, making every part of you ache for more. His fingers continued to tease, moving with slow, deliberate pressure, testing the limits of your restraint. He continued to rub and massage your sweet spot while you moaned and squirmed against his kiss. He pulled away just enough to watch you under his power.
From his vantage, you were a vision—utterly captivating in every response. He loved the way your eyes fluttered closed, only to open halfway, trying to find his gaze but faltering under the intense pleasure he was giving you. The way your teeth sank into your lip, trying to hold back the sounds you couldn’t suppress, only spurred him on. Each flick of his fingers brought a fresh wave of moans and whines, soft and breathy, laced with his name in barely-contained pleas. Hearing you beg him to take things further, to lose himself with you completely, made him feel invincible. He knew he had you right where he wanted, and he was savoring every moment.
You planted one last, deep kiss on his lips before sinking to your knees in front of him, never breaking eye contact. Nicholas’ gaze darkened, his breath catching slightly as he watched you with a mixture of anticipation and hunger. Your hands moved with urgency, unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants, your fingers grazing over the heat radiating from his body. As you freed him, he let out a soft groan, his gaze fixed on you, filled with both awe and impatience.
His hands instinctively found their way to your hair, tangling in it gently as you looked up at him, the connection between you electric and unspoken. The way he was watching you—intense, with a mix of excitement and restraint—made your pulse race. His pupils were dilated, his breathing uneven, and you could see the anticipation building in his expression as he waited, every part of him attuned to your next move.
As you leaned closer, he tightened his grip, his fingers brushing against your scalp, guiding you but letting you set the pace. You started slow, savoring every moment, every reaction, feeling his muscles tense and hearing his breaths turn to low, needy moans. His chest rose and fell heavily as he fought to keep control, his head tilting back slightly as he surrendered to your touch, murmuring your name in a rough, breathy tone that only made you want him more.
Every time you paused to swirl your tongue around his tip, Nicholas' whole body tensed, his breathing turning shallow as he let out a low, drawn-out hiss. The sound of your name on his lips, mixed with whispered curses, filled the air. He couldn’t help himself, alternating between breathless moans and deep, husky praises. “God, you’re such a good girl,” he murmured, his voice filled with a raw, admiring intensity. “You look so beautiful taking me like this.”
With each word, his grip in your hair tightened just enough to keep you where he wanted. His hands were steady, yet you could feel the slight tremor in his fingers as his need for you grew. Finally, he held your head in both hands, his gaze locked on yours, guiding you with a slow, deliberate motion. He pushed himself deeper, filling your mouth as his hips rocked in rhythm, pressing him to the back of your throat. The sounds escaping him were desperate yet controlled, each ragged breath carrying his satisfaction.
“Look at me, baby,” he whispered, his voice dropping to a breathy, gruff murmur, thick with desire. “Let me see those pretty eyes.” His gaze was commanding yet filled with an undeniable admiration, and as you met his eyes, he let out a deep, shuddering breath, fully captivated by the sight of you. The connection between you was intense, wordlessly conveying his appreciation for everything you were giving him, every shiver and sigh pulling him closer to the edge.
Your throat tightened slightly as you tried to take all of him, a small gag escaping despite your best efforts. Nicholas chuckled softly, a low, satisfied sound, and his hand moved to gently tap your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin with a subtle affection that made your heart race. “That’s my girl,” he murmured, pride evident in his tone.
His hands slid down to your shoulders, pulling you up to meet him, and the moment your lips touched, he captured you in a deep, consuming kiss. It was passionate, full of hunger and appreciation, and he groaned against your mouth, relishing in the taste of you. He leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes filled with a soft, smoldering intensity. “You did so good, baby,” he whispered, his voice rough yet tender. “You looked so perfect, taking me in… just like I always knew you could.”
Each word sent a wave of warmth through you, and his hands stayed on your hips, grounding you, his gaze never straying from yours. He ran a thumb over your bottom lip, still swollen from your efforts, his gaze filled with both desire and genuine admiration as he traced your features, savoring every moment and every breath shared between you.
Nicholas could feel the anticipation radiating off you, your body responding to his every touch and move. He knew just how much you wanted him, and he wanted to give you everything you craved. With deliberate slowness, he turned you around, pressing you gently forward. His hands slid up your thighs as he lifted the hem of your dress, savoring the soft, heated skin beneath. In one fluid motion, he pulled down your panties, his lips still trailing along your neck and shoulders, leaving a trail of warm, lingering kisses that made your breath quicken. He groaned into your ear, his voice low and thick with desire, reveling in the way your back arched, your body silently pleading for more.
“I wanna make you feel so good,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. His hands roamed over your hips as he positioned himself behind you, letting his tip trace over your folds, teasing you until you were trembling in his grasp. The first sensation of him entering you made your breath catch, a shudder running through both of you as he filled you, slow and deep. You instinctively moved in sync, bodies finding a perfect rhythm, every thrust sending a wave of pleasure through you.
Nicholas buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath coming in rough, heated gasps as he lost himself in the moment, savoring every pulse and movement of your body against his. You reached back, threading your fingers into his hair, giving it a gentle tug, and he let out a breathless whimper—a sound that only made you ache for him more. His need to be in control fueled you, but there was something thrilling in the way he let you pull him back, every now and then, giving you the slightest taste of control.
You guided one of his hands from your hip, pressing it down between your legs. He understood immediately, his fingers finding and massaging that sensitive spot, adding another layer of intensity to your connection. He quickly obliged, his touch skilled and deliberate, and you felt yourself unraveling under the dual sensations, every nerve heightened, every thought fading into pure, unfiltered bliss.
Nicholas’s pace quickened, and with every movement, he brought an intensity that made you lose yourself further with each second. His hands roamed your body, seeking out every place that could make you unravel under his touch. One moment he’d slap your ass, and in the next, his fingers wrapped around your neck, adding a delicious pressure that only heightened the sensations. He reached between your legs, his fingers brushing against your heat, before gently tilting your head, exposing more of your neck so he could plant hungry, open-mouthed kisses there. The air around you both grew hotter, more electric, and you could feel that familiar pressure building, bringing you both to the brink.
He leaned into your ear, his voice thick with need, a hint of desperation woven into it. “I want to cum for you, baby,” he breathed. “Tell me how bad you want it.”
Your voice came out in a shaky whisper, overcome by the sensations he was giving you. “Let’s do it together. I’m so close,” you pleaded, feeling yourself hovering right at the edge. His thrusts stayed steady but powerful, his head buried against your neck, breaths hitching and moans deepening. His grip on your hips tightened, guiding your body to match his rhythm perfectly, every stroke hitting deeper, more intense.
Nicholas, always the performer, could feel just how close you were, but he wanted to hear it. His voice was a low, teasing growl. “Tell me how much you want me, baby,” he commanded. “Tell me how good this feels… tell me who you belong to.” With each demand, his movements became more forceful, every stroke making you lose control a bit more.
He was close too, a raw intensity filling each thrust, and just before the finish, he grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling your head back to make sure he felt every shudder of your response.
“Are you ready, baby?” he gasped, his tone shaky as he was right on the edge. You tried to say his name, but the feeling was so intense, it came out as a breathless, pleading sound. You nodded, barely able to form words as your body responded, every nerve lit up as you both finally reached your climax.
As he spilled into you, the sensation sent waves of warmth through your entire body, making you moan out, your voice just barely above a whisper but full of satisfaction. Your body shuddered, every nerve still singing from the overwhelming release.
Even as you tried to catch your breath, he gave you a few more slow, teasing thrusts, drawing out every last tremor until you were completely undone. Each lingering movement kept you in the moment, his body still pressed firmly against yours, leaving you weak and trembling beneath him.
A satisfied smirk played across his lips as he felt you react, your legs shaking as his hands traveled slowly up your sides, grounding you through the aftershocks. He murmured in your ear, his voice low and full of pride, "You’re so fucking hot when you cum...just like I always imagined" His fingers traced gentle circles along your waist, savoring how soft you felt under his touch.
With a final, breathless sigh, you turned to face him, pressing your forehead to his as he caught his breath, his thumb grazing softly over your cheek.You both stayed like that, basking in the warmth between you, as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, leaving soft kisses along your shoulder and neck, his way of savoring every last moment.
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cherryblossom-heart · 1 day ago
Text
Do I still wish it was you?
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Satoru Gojo x Reader 
Masterlist (If you're into marvel)
Summary: You were content in the darkness his absence had left you, his memory keeping you focused on one plan. It had to be a white-haired sorcerer with an annoying personality and the bluest eyes you had ever seen—the one who came and saved you from it.
12.7 k words
Content warning: ANGST, mentions of suicide, depression, violence, grief, past Toji x Reader, foul language, +18 SMUT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it y’all). fluff, Satoru is the sweet, jumping from a building but not a bad way, fighting, fReader
A/N: Ik this is out of my usual content but I can't get over the JJK men so, I hope you guy's like it. You're welcomed to send me an ask with any comments, questions, etc., you have on this. 😊
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Sweat covered your forehead as you fought to recover your breath, the smell of sex and humanity filled his bedroom along with the sound of heavy breathing. It took a couple of minutes for you to finally stand from the bed, making your way to the bathroom, not bothering to cover up.
You saw your reflection in the mirror. Naked, disheveled hair, flushed skin along with droplets of sweat, and a minor bruise on your collarbone, the result of a certain white haired sorcerer’s lack of restraint. A small smile placed on your lips before you could stop it as you touched it, the skin still a little tender.
Your sight landed on the small tattoo you had on the left side of your chest, a small black lined heliotrope carefully placed on top of your heart. A prickling sensation invaded your eyes along with the painful sensation of guilt, what were you even doing here? How could you smile when he was gone?
The feelings didn’t get a chance of nesting in you though, as firm hands wrapped around waist and lips caressed your neck. Your sight darted to the mirror, meeting the most breath taking blue eyes you had ever seen along with a smile.
“If you don’t get any clothes on, I might have to fuck you again.”
You smiled at him, desire igniting again as he’s hands caressed your skin.
“Is that supposed to be a threat?”
A cocky smirk showed up on his face, not that it was unusual to see it. Satoru Gojo was nothing but confident, sometimes overstepping to egocentric, but you would be damned if you didn’t admit he had good reasons for it.
His lips brushed your ear, hot breath hitting your skin.
“It’s a promise that I very much intent to fulfill.”
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Satoru Gojo was going to be the death of you.
Correction, Satoru Gojo was going to be the reason you would live.
You hadn’t planned for this. You had a set plan: to become a sorceress, completing missions, breaking curses, and fighting battles, one after another. A non stop cycle of violence and war until your body gave out and if death came for you, it wouldn’t bother you. You would receive it as a long awaited friend as nothing mattered to you anymore, never since the day he died.
He was supposed to meet you back at your apartment in Kyoto, he had promised you he would be there. You waited for hours, and hours turned into days and days turned into weeks.
The last thing you heard him was a couple of text messages that read:
Job’s almost done. Maybe we should take 
a vacation, go to Las Vegas and stay at 
one of those casino/hotels you were talking
about. 11:13 pm
Anyway, I’ll see you in two days. I’ve
missed you. 11:14 pm
He vanished without a trace after that.
You moved to Tokyo as you were tracing his last steps. You had talked to Kong, who could not give you any answers. Years of dead ends and unanswered questions finally led you to give up. That day, you drank yourself to sleep.
Everyone was sure he had left you behind, taken his payment for his last job, and left the country. You couldn’t blame them, it was on brand for him to do something alike, but this wasn’t the case. You knew he wouldn’t do that to you, not when he promised he would see you.
There was also this strange feeling that had settled on your chest the day after his text. It had taken you by surprise as you were just having lunch and suddenly a sharp pain hit you in the chest and the sensation that something had gone wrong hit you. You had thought it was just stress of not seeing him, maybe a little of an overreaction from you, but as time passed, the emptiness in your chest never left.
He was dead.
After over a year of wandering aimlessly in Tokyo, a certain blue-eyed sorcerer found you. You felt his stare while you were getting your coffee, the burning sensation of a powerful presence followed you around the streets of the city. You pretended you were oblivious to it, changing your path every once in a while to double check you were being tailed.
Once the amount of people around you dissipated, you made your way to a bench in the park, sitting in it so calmly it almost seemed everything was normal for your follower. That was until you looked to the buildings on your left, your eyes connecting with a white-haired man with blackened Windsor glasses. For a second he looked surprised, as it was almost impossible that you could’ve sensed him, but a playful smiled replaced it as soon as it came.
It took him less that 60 seconds to come to approach, you crossed your legs once you felt a presence taking the remaining space in the bench you had sat on. Even when you didn’t look at him, you could still feel that cocky smile on him.
“How did you know I was following you?” He questioned, his arms spreading along the back of the bench as he made himself comfortable.
You took a sip of your coffee. “I could feel you.” You said, nonchalantly. Imitating him, you leaned back. “How did you get here so fast?”
“I teleported.” He shrugged.
“Huh, interesting.”
“You don’t seem surprised at all.” He turned around to look at you.
“Why would seeing a Jujutsu Sorcerer surprise me?” you asked, now facing him.
The air in your lungs almost disappeared as you found two blue eyes peaking over his glasses, it was almost as if they could see inside your soul. The shiny speckles that seemed to dance around his iris called you, entrancing you into looking at them longer.
Was that his power? Who was this man and why was he stalking you?
“So you know about Jujutsu Society?”
“What does it matter to you?” You barked, your harsh tone only making him smile more. “Who the fuck are you, and why the fuck are you following me?”
He lifted his hands. “Woah there princess, I don’t mean any harm, I promise.” He extended his right hand to you. “I’m Satoru Gojo. The strongest sorcerer in the world.” He winked as you shook his hand.
You rolled your eyes the pet name and his ego. “Sure you are.”
At the moment you didn’t believe him, thinking he was just an over confident asshole that was just pushing your buttons. Looking back, it made you chuckle at how wrong you were.
He laughed, amused at your response. “You really are something else, aren’t you?”
“Why don’t you just tell me what do you want?” You huff, already exasperated by him.
Blue eyes locked on you as he leaned forward. “Why don’t you tell me about that special grade knife you keep in that purse?”
Your pulse picked up, the feeling of your heart smashing against your ribcage so hard you felt it would burst out. You couldn’t let him take it, he gave it to you. Perhaps you were too obvious with your worries though, as his eyes traveled to the tight grip you had suddenly imposed on your bag.
“Don’t worry, I’m not taking it away.” He reassured you. “I was assigned to take it, but now you’ve captured my attention. I have a hunch you’re much more interesting than that old piece of steel.”
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You had found yourself entangled in the world of Jujutsu, at least more than you already were.
He had told you about the sorcerer world, the clans, the sorcerers, the customs, the curses, and everything that came along with that. You had known you had abilities to see things no one else seemed to notice, abilities to get rid of the monsters that crawled all over the world that you had perfected on your own, but you were never sure what to call them or what to call yourself.
Not until a black-haired man with green eyes and a purple worm surrounding him bumped you in the street. A man whose name you couldn’t even mutter without breaking down.
Now you had joined the same world he despised and worked alongside the same people he hated. The sorcerer world had found your abilities useful, at least for the time being, and they had decided, with some pressure from Satoru, that you could be a good addition to their dwelling numbers.
You didn’t like working for them; you didn’t want to do it for a long time, but you had thought it was a good way to just let go and prepare yourself for death. A jujutsu sorcerer's life span was never long; sooner than later they would find their demise. Sure, you could just kill yourself; it would probably be way faster, but if there was an afterlife and you found him there, he would be disappointed in you. Besides, it reminded you of him; he had helped you be as strong as you currently were.
So you fought, day and night; you took whatever they had; there was no small or too big of a curse for you to take. Everything seemed fine for a while; you were content with how things were for a week, until Satoru decided to intervene.
An annoying little prick—that’s what you usually describe him as. His interest in you hadn’t dwindled even after you agreed to join him; it even seemed to have made things worse. He pestered you, following you around with a cocky attitude and bad jokes, forcing you to go with him to places just so he could buy desserts. He got in the way with your missions, babysitting you in as many as he could.
The thing that annoyed you the most was the fact that he was always looking at you, not in a weird, sexual kind of way that you could’ve handled, but he did it in a way that it felt he was trying to look into your soul. Even if you couldn’t see his eyes behind the black pair of glasses, you could still feel the burn of his stare on your skin. It felt as if he wanted to know all your secrets, and for the same reason you tried to stay away from him, but the more you tried to do it, the more he seemed to put an effort into crushing it.
Satoru Gojo was the bane of your existence.
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“I told you it was a good idea to get this peach daifuku for the way home.” He said, mouth full of food. “Want one?”
“Sure.” You muttered, snatching it out of his hand.
This was the third time in a week he had decided to come with you for a mission, your patience running thin the more time you spent with the white-haired sorcerer. You had done your job without any hiccups, and the worst part about it was that it seemed he wasn’t even there to intervene if anything did happen, evidently by his relaxed stance along with his arms crossing his chest.
That could only mean that he was tasked with babysitting you or he had actively chosen to follow you everywhere, and you didn’t know which one was worse.
“Hey, Gojo...” you started, unsure on how to make your point. “You don’t have to babysit me, you know that, right? I think I’ve shown you I’m capable enough of doing this.”
“That’s not why I’m here.” He answered, lazily stretching his arms along the subway seats.
“Then why are you here?” You questioned, slapping away the arm that was on your side.
“Cause I like keeping you company.”
Cocky blue eyes met yours, except this time they weren’t all cocky; they were sincere. They looked at you with precaution, gaging your reaction towards his words as if they were almost afraid to scare you away.
You didn’t give an answer to his words, opting instead for eating your snack in silence. Maybe it was worse that he had been babysitting you; if that had been the case, you wouldn’t have had a small smile on your face.
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A knock on your door woke you from your impromptu nap; the banging was so loud it reverberated throughout the house. You looked at your watch and noticed that it was only 7 p.m., but that didn't make it any better; whoever it was, you wanted to kill them.
With angry footsteps you made your way to the door, not caring that it looked like you had just woken up.
"What?!" You yelled, flinging the door open.
Your sight was flooded with snacks and movies before revealing Satoru, his glasses slightly tilted down as he looked at your clothes.
"Nice outfit." He winked.
Suddenly you realized that the only thing you were wearing was a gray sweater, barely big enough to cover your thighs. You pulled the sweater down, warmth infiltrating your face.
"Why are you here?"
"Movie night." He said simply, pushing his way into your apartment.
Once he was in the living room, his eyes scanned his surroundings, which in turn made you a little too aware that your apartment was too empty, almost as if no one lived there.
"I don't remember inviting you." You pinched the bridge of your nose, sure a migraine was on its way.
"Hey, it's not like you have anything better to do."
After a few seconds of delivery, you grabbed the bag of instant popcorn to make it in your microwave, rolling your eyes at his smile.
Maybe it was because you were too tired to argue with him; having just woken up, your brain wasn't working so well. Maybe it was because you knew it would take less time to go along with his shenanigans than it would to argue with him.
Or maybe, just maybe, you felt lonely. Sure, Satoru wasn't your first choice, but he seemed to want to be there, even when you tried to keep away from him. There was something about his persistence that made you smile, almost like a puppy you couldn't keep away.
If you were honest, he wasn't that bad. In another life, you might have enjoyed his company, maybe even become friends, but you weren't interested in anyone else coming into your life, not with a hole in your chest with a name on it.
But just for one night, you decided to give in.
You sat down next to him and put the bowl of popcorn between you. "So what are we watching?"
"This." He handed you a DVD case with a foreign title on it, Italian, it seemed. “The movie is great; there's a lot of action; the only bummer is the main guy dies.”
You slapped his arm.
"Thanks, dickhead. Way to spoil the movie."
“Don’t be a cry baby; you could’ve guessed it within the first 10 minutes of the movie.”
You scoffed. "You don't know that."
"Sorry, my bad." He raised his hands. "You're acting like I said the main guy's love interest turns out to be working for the bad guys."
"Dude!"
He laughed, the echo of his voice resounding along the walls.
"I can't believe you fell for that."
"Just play the stupid movie."
You ended up watching two more movies that night before you both fell asleep. And in the warmth and comfort of your lonely apartment, it was the first time in a long time that you didn't think of green eyes and black hair before you closed your eyes.
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"Ah, come on. You need to give me more details." Satoru complained, walking alongside you.
"I don't have to give you shit."
It had been a few months since that movie night and you had found yourself not completely rejecting Gojo's presence, and on good days, you would say you enjoyed it. You didn't argue as much when he joined you on missions, and you didn't fight him when he wanted you to go with him to get something to eat or to your apartment to watch a movie. It was... a routine of sorts, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy it at least a little.
"You can't just tell me you have a tattoo and not tell me what or where it is."
"And you'll never know."
He hurried his steps, standing in front of you, but walking backwards. He put his hands together and begged you to answer.
"Please, you must tell me, the secret could kill me. What would you do if the strongest sorcerer in the world died and it's all your fault?"
"I'd probably throw a party." You snorted.
Satoru, the drama queen he always was, put his hands over his heart, a playful 'ouch' escaping his lips.
"You hurt me, Princess. I thought you would be devastated if something happened to me." Gojo pouted, the sight making you chuckle slightly.
"Oh yes, absolutely. I would mourn you for at least ten years." You joked.
"Make it fifteen and I might consider forgiving you." He winked.
You made your way through the busy streets of Tokyo until you found yourselves standing in line for coffee, the cozy environment of the place giving you a sense of warmth.
"If I pay for your drink, will you tell me about your tattoo?" He whispered next to your ear.
The smell of his mouthwash hit your nostrils, the cool mint scent lingering in your mind for a few seconds.
"It's going to take a lot more than a bad cup of coffee for me to tell you this."
He rolled his eyes, arms outstretched in defeat as he wrapped one of them around your shoulders. You shook your shoulder, trying to get him off of you, but he didn't budge. You told yourself that just for once you would allow it.
"How about dinner sometime? Would that be enough for you to tell me?" He said casually.
You turned to him, one eyebrow raised in disbelief, thinking he was joking. Although the way he had said it made you think for a second that it was real and there was another intention behind his invitation. That thought only lasted a second as you found it impossible that he was talking about a date, so you played along.
Your eyes turned back forward as you shrugged. “Depends where you take me. Spend enough money on me and I might give you a hint."
"Oh, you're one of those girls?" He chuckled. "You only go out with someone who takes you to expensive places and showers you with gifts?"
"Well, Gojo... if you want to know all my deepest, darkest secrets, you might as well try a little harder." 
Silence fell upon you, making you think the conversation was over, but a few minutes later he spoke again, surprising you with his words.
"Alright, I'll pick you up tomorrow at eight."
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The dim lights of the restaurant made for a more private, intimate atmosphere. Gojo had actually kept his promise, you could tell the restaurant was way over your budget, the cutlery alone seemed to have cost a fortune. The waiter had been very attentive, leading you both to a table at the back of the restaurant and taking your coat to put it away.
Once the two of you were alone, you had assured Satoru that you had only been joking, that you had not really taken his offer seriously.
"Why did you come?" He asked, taking a bite out of the appetizer he had ordered.
"I mean, who am I to turn down free food?"
He chuckled, "And what do you think so far? Worth your time?"
"Ask me after dessert and I'll give you an answer."
Dinner continued with ease, and after a few glasses of wine, you began to laugh at his jokes and make some of your own. You never thought that spending time with Satoru would make you so... happy? You weren't even sure how to describe it, the only thing you knew was that it wasn't horrible.
It was actually quite nice. And for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to get to know someone.
You talked about where you grew up, how you got your powers, and about your family. In return, he talked about his clan, how he had mastered his powers and about some of his years at Jujutsu High. You talked about little things, your hobbies, your favorite color and your favorite movies.
Talking with Satoru made you realize that you knew so little about him, even though you had known each other for almost a year. Sure, you knew some little details here and there, but you never went in depth, to you, Satoru was nothing more than a pain in the ass and a pawn of the Jujutsu society. Unfortunately, it seemed that almost everyone else thought the same.
That night, you realized that only a handful of people saw him as Satoru instead of Gojo, the greatest defender in the Jujutsu society. Perhaps that was why, despite his colorful personality, he seemed lonely. He seemed to be missing someone in his life who would see him as something other than the power he was born with. For whatever reason, this thought made your heart ache.
Throughout the night, you found yourself staring at him more than usual, noticing every little detail of his face. You noticed the way his hair sometimes fell over his eyes, the way his smile showed most of his teeth, the wrinkles that appeared at the corners of his eyes when he laughed. You also noticed the tenderness of his eyes, how every so often he looked at you in a way that would make your heart hammer against your chest or the way he would look at your lips every so often and you weren’t sure if he knew you noticed or he just didn’t care.
At the end of the night, you were having trouble deciding which dessert to get, not sure whether to get the cheesecake or the assorted mochi, so he told you to get both.
"I don't believe you, there's no way you don't have hobbies."
He laughed. "I really don't. I'm just too good at everything I do."
You rolled your eyes at him. "And you have the biggest ego I've ever seen in my life."
"Some would call it ego, I call it confidence. And well deserved."
You finished your last mochi, enjoying the last bit of strawberry flavor. As soon as you had taken the last bite, Satoru spoke eagerly.
"So, was this dinner good enough for you to tell me about your tattoo?"
You pretended to hesitate for a second, but you had to hand it to him, he went all out.
"I guess I have to tell you now that you spent so much money on it." You said with a sigh.
"Yes!" He exclaimed, pumping one of his fists in the air.
"Don't get too excited, it's nothing too scandalous." You pulled your cleavage to the side, exposing the left side of your chest.
His eyes locked on the drawing on your skin, heat burning inside you the longer he stared.
"It's a flower?"
You nodded. "It's a heliotrope."
"What does that mean?"
Your voice wavered, your chest tightening. You couldn't talk about it. You didn't want to. But you couldn't show him.
"That's a story for another time."
As much of an asshole as you thought Satoru was, you knew he wasn't an idiot, he understood that you didn't want to talk about it, so he seemed to let it go.
"Alright, that's fair. I got a lot of secrets tonight." He stood up and straightened his black suit. "I'm going to go to the bathroom real quick and then we can go, is that okay?"
"Sure, take your time."
You lost sight of him as he turned the corner and your mind wandered over everything that had happened tonight. You hadn't expected that Satoru would actually buy you dinner and in such a place, and even though you knew that this was just a peasant's change for him, it still surprised you.
You were also surprised by how... human he was. He had surprised you once when he told you about the children he was sponsoring and taking care of, since their parents were nowhere to be found. You didn't get the change to ask for their names, but you were sure you would get another one, you were sure Satoru wasn't done surprising you.
A man called your name and made you look up. 
Shiu Kong stood in front of you, his desvihebeled appearance intact, except for the way he had done his hair, a small attempt to soothe it.
"Kong." You said as you stood up. You shook his hand in greeting, wanting to get this conversation over with before Gojo returned. "What brings you here? Pleasure or business?"
"You know it's always business." He scoffed. His eyes took a double look at your dress before a small grin appeared on his face. "I would ask the same, but it looks like it's all pleasure for you."
"I guess you could call it that." You shrugged nonchalantly.
Neither of you said anything for a second. It wasn't like you were friends, you were barely a step above strangers and the only connection you had was gone. Fortunately, Shiu broke the silence.
"I never expected to see you here." He cleared his throat. "It's good to see you moved on."
Her heart fell to the ground, replaced by a painful sting.
"I... no, it's not like that." You tried to explain, your words stumbling.
Why did you try to justify yourself? This wasn't a date, was it?
"Hey, I'm not asking for explanations." He said. "I'm not judging you, it's been a while since anyone has heard from Toji."
Toji.
His name came back to haunt you as if it was the first day he didn't go home. The pain was excruciating, almost blinding you to the point of passing out. You hadn't heard his name in over a year, you didn't even dare to say it.
That was a date, right? What the hell were you doing going on a date with Satoru Gojo? How could you do that to Toji's memory? How could you be in a restaurant, laughing and enjoying the company of someone who wasn't his? A sorcerer's sorcerer?
How could you?
A man in a suit called out to Kong, motioning for him to come over to where he was.
"Anyway, I have to go now. Have a good life, kid."
You barely registered his handshake or when he walked away, all you could do was stand there and try not to collapse. The sudden realization hit you, you hadn’t thought of him throughout this whole night, only at the very end of it.
You had forgotten him.
A hand on your shoulder made you jump, worried blue eyes looking at you through the usual black glasses.
"Are you okay?" Satoru asked, worry lacing his words.
No.
How could you be okay when you forgot him? How could you even do that?
You didn't know what to do, the hole in your chest threatened to swallow you whole. It was what you deserved.
"I-I have to go." You said simply.
With quick movements, you grabbed your purse and made your way to the exit. You didn't care about getting your coat, not when your lungs couldn't breathe, each inhale bringing you closer to suffocation.
The heels you wore hindered your steps, almost causing you to trip twice. With frantic movements, you kicked them off, your bare feet touching the streets of Tokyo as you tried to run from the white-haired sorcerer who kept calling your name.
Calls and texts flooded your phone, finally forcing you to turn it off.
You avoided Satoru after that.
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"The wound will heal in no time, but I would still recommend you to take a few days off." Shoko said as she took off her gloves.
"I'll think about it." You said, no real promise behind your words.
Shoko looked at you, studying your face carefully. You knew what she saw, the dark circles, the carelessness of your appearance. But most of all, the pain behind your eyes. Maybe a while ago you would have been careful, trying to hide it so no one could see it, but at this point you didn't really care anymore.
As you rolled your shirt down to cover your torso and the large cut that had been made there, the door burst open, making both of you jump.
Satoru entered the room, taking strong and determined steps towards you, and within seconds he was standing next to you. He lifted your shirt just enough to get a glimpse of the damage the curse had caused, cold fingers poking at the newly healed skin.
It took you a few seconds to snap out of it, but eventually you were aware of how close he was and how exposed you felt.
"What the hell are you doing?" You barked, taking a step away from him and dropping your shirt.
"What the fuck am I doing?" He repeated, an incredulous tone in his words. "What the hell were you thinking? We were supposed to go on this mission together."
You got his text, along with several others telling you to wait for him before going in. Just like the ones you got before, this one was ignored.
"I don't remember asking for a partner."
He scoffed. “You can’t be serious right now? You almost fucking died and you’re mad at me for wanting to go with you.”
"I don't need your help!"
"You do when you've been trying to get yourself killed ever since I met you!" He shouted, his chest heaving with anger as he came closer to you.
"Satoru-" The doctor tried to intervene but Gojo stopped her.
"Stay out of this, Shoko."
"So what if I am?" You said and came closer to him.
"Do you know how fucking crazy this is?" His hands went to his hair and pulled it back in despair. "You've had a bad life? Tough shit, everyone here has been through tough times, you think that makes you special? That somehow that makes it okay for you to say fuck it and act so fucking stupid?"
His words burned deep inside you, you didn't know what he was talking about. He couldn't even imagine how it felt. He knew the effect of his words, but he kept going.
"You want to know why I still go on missions with you? Because of shit like this. Not only will you get yourself killed, but you might end up hurting someone else. Is that what you want? Don't you care about anything but your own selfishness?"
Your eyes began to sting, his face just inches from yours. Blue eyes were once more focused on you, once again searching in your soul. This time though, you could see something in them, a type of pain you didn’t understand. It almost made you back away.
Almost.
"My life is none of your damn business. Drop the 'savior' complex and stay the fuck out of my life." You pushed him away. "We're not friends, I can barely stand you, and I sure as hell don't need you pestering me with whatever this is. Stay. The. Fuck. Away."
His hands became fists and you thought he was going to grab you, maybe even shake you. Instead, he walked away, the only remnant of his presence being the sandalwood scent of his cologne. You stood there for a while, your chest heaving as you tried to fight back the tears.
"He's not wrong, you know?" Shoko spoke, her voice startling you. For a moment, you forgot that she was in the room. "It's pretty obvious that you're trying to get yourself killed."
You thought about arguing with her the same way you had with Gojo, only you didn't have the energy anymore, the weight of everything hit you all at once. You sat back in the chair where you had been examined, your head hanging from your shoulders.
"I don't know what to tell you, Shoko. Life sucks."
She laughed. "Yeah, I'll give you that much." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She grabbed one before holding her arm out to you. "You want one?"
"Do you have anything stronger?"
"Not today, sorry. Cigarette is the best I can offer."
You took one out and put it between your lips. Shoko lit yours before hers, the smoke filling your lungs immediately. The raw sensation in your throat almost made you forget your pain, a good side effect you more than welcomed.
“I know that Satoru can be a little too much but he means well.“ She paused, trying to find the right words. "We have seen this before with one of our classmates, not exactly the same, but close enough. He was Satoru's best friend."
You were surprised, not once had he ever mentioned it, although you hadn't exactly asked questions about his life, not until this dinner.
"Is he dead?" was the only thing you could think of to ask.
"Oh, no. He's very much alive, he's just..." She took a drag on the cigarette. "I don't think it's my place to tell you this, so let's just say that things have gone very badly for him. So you can understand why he's a little worried about you."
Neither of you said much after that, preferring to smoke in silence. Shoko's words made sense to you, there was always a hint of sadness when Satoru talked about his school days. Even when he smiled and told you about his pranks as a teenager, at the very end of his stories, his eyes would flash with pain, just for a second.
After a few minutes, you finished your cigarette, stubbing it out on the sole of your shoe. You thanked Shoko for her care and for the cigarette as you made your way to the door until she called your name.
"Satoru told me about your dinner and how you avoided him." Heat flushed your cheeks, slightly embarrassed that someone else was aware of your actions. "I like you and I don't know what's going on between you two and it's none of my business, but he's my friend." Her eyes hardened as she spoke. "So don't hurt him or I'll have to hurt you. Don't make me hurt you."
Your eyes widened in surprise for a moment, the look in Shoko's tired eyes replaced by a certainty that sent shivers down your spine.
"I'll try not to."
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Rain in Tokyo always seemed to take you by surprise, especially because you always forgot to check the weather before going out. It was something you weren't used to, but every time you were forced to run in the rain, you told yourself you'd remember next time.
With a plastic take-out bag in your hand and your leather purse covering your hair, you ran like hell through the sea of umbrellas. You looked at your watch once you reached the stop sign, sighing at the time.
10:45 a.m.
"Shit." You muttered.
You could still make it, you tried to tell yourself. As soon as the light changed and you were able to cross the street, you took off. The purse you held over your head hindered your movements, so you had decided to just let it hang by your side as you rushed through the streets, making your way back to the school.
After a few instances of almost slipping and a few assholes passing you with their cars and making it their business to splash you with the water pooled next to the sidewalk, you finally arrived, the food still safe in your hand. You reached the building, wet marks leaving a trail behind you, and you checked the time.
10:59 a.m.
Yes.
Finally reaching the classroom you wanted, you stood outside. Voices could still be heard from the inside of the room, relief washing over you as you decided you wait outside. Only you felt the cold sensation of your wet clothes, making you shiver unconsciously.
The door flung open, a group of teenagers stopping in their tracks as soon as they saw you. They looked at you, confused not only to see you there, but at the state of your clothes.
"Uh-" one of them tried to speak, but you cut him off.
“Out. Now.”
With a quick pace, they left. You took a deep breath before venturing inside the room.
Satoru sat on top of a desk at the back of the room, eyes focused on his phone. He seemed to be typing a message, a mask of worry as he seemed to type and delete over and over again. You stayed by the door, words dying on your throat. What were you supposed to say? Should you just say hi and pretend everything is good even though you haven’t spoken in weeks? Or just go right to the point and apologize?
A ding from your phone brought back your attention, as well as Satoru’s. Your eyes widened, feeling as if you had gotten caught somewhere you weren’t supposed to be. You reached for your phone, glad that it was still dry enough to still function.
A small smile formed on your lips.
Greatest Pain in the Ass
Hey, 10:01 a.m.
You looked back at him, a light rose tinge spreading through his cheeks.
“Hi.” You said with a shy smile.
“Why are you soaking wet?” He questioned, eyes scanning your appearance.
“It’s raining outside.”
Satoru rolled his eyes. “You forgot to check the weather again?”
“Perhaps.” You answered, making your way to him. Once you reached the desk he was sitting on, you plopped down, opening the plastic bag you were carrying. You took out two honey lemon cold teas along with a couple of cheesecakes, two crepe rolls, and a package of sour candy.
“What’s this?” He asks as he grabs the tea.
You knew Satoru wasn’t going to be able to resist it, his sweet tooth always coming on top of everything.
“Take it as a peace offering.”
The sorcerer took off his jacket, handing it to you. You considered not taking it, but the shiver down your spine convinced you otherwise.
“Thanks.” You muttered.
In what seemed less than a minute, half the food is gone, the other half barely having a couple of bites. You sit in silence as you keep eating your cheesecake, occasionally sipping your tea.
“I’m sorry, by the way.” You broke the silence, the heaviness in your chest lifting as soon as you said the words.
“Did you just say sorry?” Asked Gojo, too incredulous to your annoyance. You nod, eying him. “You? You said I’m sorry? The rain must be toxic.” You rolled your eyes at him, and in return, he grabbed you by the shoulders, his face filled with fake concern. “It must already be in your brain! No, please don’t die!”
“Alright, asshole. I get it.” You pulled yourself apart, completely annoyed by his antics. You take a sip of your drink; you knew you deserved it. “I really am sorry, though. I’m sorry for leaving you at the restaurant and snapping at you back at Shoko’s.” You looked down to your hands, the feeling of shame creeping up over you. “I guess I’m sorry for being a dickhead in general to you, especially when you’ve been nice to me.”
“Why did you leave that day at the restaurant?”
“I—“ your words were caught on your throat. Should you lie? Tell the truth. Avoid the question? You looked at him, and even without being able to see his eyes, you knew what he was thinking.
Tell the truth.
You took a deep breath. “I used to be with someone, a man older than me, and he was... he was involved in a bad world. He left for one of his jobs, and one day he didn’t come back; he simply disappeared.” You stopped for a second, a knot on your throat almost breaking your voice. “I came here to find him; look for any clues that might tell me what happened to him, but I didn’t find anything, not a single word about him.” A tear took you by surprise when it fell from your left eye. You quickly wiped it, as if that could clear out the pain your heart felt. “The guy that used to be his handler was at the restaurant; we saw each other, and he—“ you scoffed. “He thought we were on a date and that he was glad I moved on. After that, I just couldn’t stay; I felt as if I was betraying his memory, betraying him, and everything was just too much for me. I felt like I was drowning the more I stayed there, so I did the best thing I could; I ran.”
Another tear made its way down your face, but you stopped caring. No matter how hard you tried, the pain of losing him would always be there.
After you finished your explanation, seconds went by without any response, something you attributed to him processing your story, but you weren’t sure. It had always surprised you how volatile Satoru was, sometimes easy to read as a first grade book, and sometimes, like now, where you might as well be reading a forgotten foreign language.
“Is that why you always put yourself at risk?” He finally spoke.
“Yes.” You answered, a tinge of shame crawling up over you. “I had a plan, you know? I was fine dying doing this. I needed it.”
“What changed?”
“You, I guess. It’s very difficult to die when someone keeps getting in the way.” You chuckled to yourself, Satoru, not finding any humor in your words. “I don’t know; one day I woke up and I realized that I didn’t want to die. I also realized I like being here.”
He looked at you, and this time his eyes carried a sadness too big to bear. “Are you still looking for him?” He asked, almost hesitantly.
“No, I know he’s dead.”
“How are you so sure?”
“I just feel it.” You shrugged. “I think I felt it the day he died; there was this painful and heavy sensation that got in my chest, and I couldn’t shake it off.”
“What would you do if you found the people that killed him?”
His question took you by surprise, as you didn’t expect it from him. You had thought about it a couple of times though, on long nights where you missed his presence and the scent was almost gone from his clothes. On nights you wished you had gone to Tokyo with him instead of staying back in Kyoto in your normal life. On nights you wished you could have his touch at least one more time.
“I’d kill them. And I’d make sure they would suffer.”
You both stayed in silence after that. A heaviness in the air had surrounded you, almost as if you had made things worse by telling him the truth. You knew that he wasn’t mad or disgusted by you, but there was a storm of thoughts going through his mind that made you wish you could read minds.
The silence was agonizing, and the longer it kept going, the more your chest would tighten. You wanted to break it any way you could, so you decided to ask a question that had been gnawing at you for weeks.
“Can I ask you something?”
He looked back at you, coming back to reality. “Shoot.”
“Was that supposed to be date?”
He smiled, almost sadly, as he fixed his hair. For some reason you got the feeling he had something more to say to you, but after careful deliberation he gave you a simple answer.
“Only if you want it to be.”
It was up to you.
God, why did he do that?
Was that what you wanted? Your mind was nowhere close to thinking about a relationship with someone else, let alone having a date. There were so many things wrong with you: dead boyfriend, inability to move on, active desire to die, walls so high up they could probably compete with the Great Wall of China. You had an attitude problem, a dangerous job, and you hated people getting too close to you. You were not looking to date.
But.
If you were going to have a date with anyone, the idea of it being Satoru didn’t bother you in the least.
Maybe you even liked it.
“I think I do.” You whispered.
You smiled at him.
He smiled too.
Satoru opened his mouth to say something, but a ding of his phone interrupted him. With annoyance, he unlocked his phone, his fingers typing up a quick response before putting the device back in his pocket.
“C’mon, lets go.” He said as he put together the trash from your snack and threw it in the can.
You downed the rest of your sweet tea, throwing the bottle to the same can and getting it in the first try. Satoru turned around and gave you a thumbs up. You caught up to him with a little stride.
"Where are we going?”
“To your place so you can get changed.”
Right. You were still soaking wet from the rain. Suddenly you were hyperaware of the squeaking sound your boots made and the smaller but still present trail of water you left on your way.
“After that, we have to go to Shinjuku.”
“Alright.”
His arm wrapped around your shoulders, and for the first time since you met him, you didn’t slap his arm away.
“Wait, I have another question.” You said.
“What is it?”
“What did you text me for?”
“…”
“You were going to apologize, weren’t you?”
“I was not.”
"Yes, you were! Man, I should’ve taken longer buying all this shit.”
“Whatever, it doesn’t matter anymore. You apologized first, so I win.”
“Oh, so it was competition now?”
Your voices filled the empty halls of the building, the bickering between you not stopping even when you were on good terms. This time there was something different though, and as laughter began erupting from both of you, you were sure there was no going back to how things were before today.
You liked that thought.
—————
Pink petals fell from the sky, swept away by the chill winds of April. Groups of people were scattered around Ueno Park, admiring the beatty of hundreds of cherry blossom trees along with hanging lanterns that decorated the main path to follow. Conversations, laughter, and music filled the air, and once you walked further into the park, the smell of food reached your nose.
Satorus hand pulled you towards one of the food stands, making both of you wait in line for some croquettes. You looked down at your joined hands, entwined fingers and all, and your heart skipped a beat.
Coming to the Cherry Blossom Festival had been an impromptu plan. Satoru had just texted you to dress up for the night in something you found comfortable enough to walk, and 20 minutes later he had knocked on your door, a blanket on his shoulder and a small basket on hand.
You liked that about him. Most of your dates had been improvised, to a certain extent. It was either him wanting to do something right in the moment or with him barely giving you time, just like when he asked you to pick you up the next day.
He brought spontaneity to your life in a way that made you happy. Satoru brought a lightness with him that you didn’t think a lot of people saw and how you wished everyone could. Maybe then they could see past the confident facade he always seemed to carry, and instead they would find the human, annoying as ever but with a heart the size of the world.
After getting your food, you went to find a place to sit that would allow you to have some privacy. Gojo guided you over a no trespassing sign, and when you expressed your concern, he simply smiled.
“Trust me, we’ll be fine.”
So you followed him until you found a good spot; there he extended the blanket while you put down the basket, making sure to take everything out. Petals fell all around you, and the darkness of the night enveloped you, except for the dim light of the moon and a couple of lanterns.
Everything was perfect.
Then his hand grabbed the side of your face, making you turn to him. He had taken out his glasses so the totality of his blue eyes were exposed. God, they were beautiful. His eyes went from your eyes to your lips, a quick but intense glance. His hand traveled to the back of your head, almost as if they were asking for permission to go forward. You grabbed his arm, your finger giving him a slight caress.
That was all he needed.
He kissed you. He kissed you in a way that made you forget to stop breathing. He kissed you in a way that you felt every single sensation around you, yet the only thing you could focus on was his lips on yours. He kissed you, and you wanted more. You wanted everything.
He kissed you with desperation, like he had wanted this for a long time.
He kissed you, and you tasted his mint toothpaste along with something else you couldn’t place.
You pulled apart to face worried blue eyes, looking for a sign that perhaps you didn’t want that. He thought he might’ve overstepped his boundaries, and you were going to run away again.
You kissed him again to erase his doubts, and you knew it.
He tasted like the future.
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Moans filled his bedroom. The squeaking of the bed pushing against the wall made you glad you were at his apartment instead of yours; if anyone had to deal with angry neighbors, let it be him. Satoru hadn’t even let you take off your clothes completely; instead, he had pushed down your underwear and lifted up your skirt, your underwear still hanging from one of your ankles.
Your face was facing a pillow, but you had heard him pull his pants desperately. He was big; he had warned you, but once the tip of his cock had tried to breach your entrance, your confidence in taking him had severely dwindled. He knew what he was doing though, his hands traveling in front of you, finding your clit.
A gasp left your lips, the coldness of his hand surprising you. He drew small, precise circles on it; every time he would hit a certain angle, you could feel yourself getting wetter. He knew what he was doing.
“You’ve been driving me crazy, you know that.” He whispered in your ear.
Electricity traveled all over your body, the anticipation of him finally being inside you driving you crazy.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You panted, grinding all over his fingers.
You felt his hand smacking your ass. Hard.
He pulled your hair back, your head lifting from the pillow. “Don’t act dumb with me, princess.”
His lips found the right place on your neck, and the sensation of him sucking on it made your knees weak.
“You know this is my favorite skirt.”
Smack.
His fingers never gave you a rest; the longer they kept going, the more the pressure built inside you. Your skin felt on fire; every kiss, every caress, and every smack made you feel like you could almost cum. Satoru had a way of overwhelming your senses; you sometimes wondered if it was a side effect from his six eyes.
He went faster, fingers using your own moisture to slide all over your bundle of nerves. You were so close, your moans getting louder and louder. You wanted it. No, you needed it. You need it like a thirsty man needs water.
“Please.” You begged.
“Please what, princess.”
“D-don’t stop, I’m so close.” You breathed.
So, so close, the coil inside you tightening, ready to snap.
He stopped.
“What the f—“ Your whine was cut short by his cock sliding inside of you.
He did it all at once, not giving you time to adjust. God, he was huge. With one sharp thrust, he was completely inside. You felt a little pain, but the overwhelming amount of pleasure you felt washed it away to the back of your mind when he started thrusting.
“Is that what you wanted?” He asked, his voice gruff as he digged his fingers on your hips.
Smack.
“Answer me, you little slut. You wanted my cock so bad?”
“Y-yes!” You were barely able to say.
Smack.
“You thought you could tease me all night.”
Smack.
“Grind your ass against me.”
Smack.
“Your fucking hand was under my pants while we were in that meeting. You thought that was fucking funny?”
Smack. Smack. Smack.
“Fuck! No!”
His pace was relentless and punishing. He seemed like a wild animal who had just caught his prey. His thrust was too much; you found yourself pulling away from him, but strong hands pushed you back to him.
“Where the fuck do you think you’re going?” He growled. “You wanted it so bad, now you have to take it.” A hand pressed your head against the bed, and you felt his left leg hoping on the bed.
You didn’t think he could reach deeper inside you. Once again, you were proven wrong. You couldn’t last longer, not when you felt the tip of his cock almost hitting against your cervix. Your walls tightened around him, causing him to hiss in pleasure.
“God, this pussy is perfect.”
He buried himself again and again and again until tears rolled down your eyes. He knew you were close.
“You’re going to come all over this cock, princess?”
A pathetic mumble resembling a ‘yes’ escaped your lips. That gave him the signal he needed.
This time his rhythm never stopped; consistent hard, deep, and quick thrusts punished your pussy over and over again. His grip on your ass tightened too; you were sure you would have marks on your skin tomorrow morning. He kept going, faster and faster; you heard moans that left his lips, and you were sure he was also close.
“Come on, baby, come all over this cock.”
That was all you needed to come undone.
He kept going for a couple of thrusts, rhythm gone as the desperation for chasing his high became bigger and bigger. His hands grabbed the sides of your hips, using them to bounce all over his cock. It was almost as if you were his own toy.
He came no long after that.
Both lay in bed, sweat covering your forehead and back as you gasped for air. Satoru was the first to stand up, grabbing a towel from the bathroom to clean himself. You were too tired to move, so the sorcerer took it upon himself to clean you himself. The cloth felt weird against the raw skin of your pussy but the carefulness of his touch made it better.
The towel flew across the room, landing in an unknown location. After picking up the now crumpled-up sheet, he covered both of you with it, his arms bringing you to his chest. The bluest eyes in the world looked at you, admiring every inch of your face as his hand caressed it.
You took the lead this time, reaching to him for a kiss. Your lips touched his, and his lips parted slightly, allowing you to deepen the kiss, his hands burying themselves in your scalp, pushing you in as if the closeness that you had wasn’t enough.
For the first time in a long time, you were happy at night; your heart didn’t ache as you fell asleep in the warmth of his arms.
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“God, why the fuck did I listen to you?” You mumbled, dangerously close to the edge of the building.
Tokyo's city lights shone below your feet, the never-ending life of its streets still buzzing no matter how dark the sky was. The altitude you were in made the wind strong enough that you felt you were going to be swept away by it. The jacket you had brought was no match for the wind, your hands clenched on the material as if that would warm you more.
“Because it’s going to be fun.” Satoru said before kissing your cheek.
“Not if I freeze to death.”
Satoru stood next to you, tall, powerful, and beautiful, with his eyes free from the typical dark glasses. Even as you were at the edge of the top of a twenty-nine-story building, he seemed so nonchalant it couldn’t help but annoy you.
How could a man so annoying be so perfect?
How were you so lucky to have found two perfect men in your lifetime?
“You were the one that wanted to try this.” He laughed, a big smile on his face.
“Whatever, let’s just do it.”
His hand extended towards you, waiting for you to grab him back. Your hand went halfway before the corner of your eye caught how tall the building actually was. You had refused to look down for this very reason, but you couldn’t do anything now; your eyes were locked in.
What the fuck were you doing?
Fear settled in the pit of your stomach along with regret, as Satoru was right; you were the one that said you wanted to see how his teleporting worked. When you had asked him what his favorite part of it was, he answered free falling from a building and teleporting back to where he had started. And now, the longer you looked, the dizzier you felt.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
“I can’t do it. This is fucking insane.” The volume of your voice was an octave higher, but you couldn’t control it.
You began backing away until hands on your face stopped you.
“Hey, it’s ok.” He said calmly. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. We can just go back and do something else.” He waited a moment, trying to see if you would back away, but you didn’t. “If you want to do it, though, you have to trust me; trust that I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.”
He backed away, moving close to the edge. His hand reached out to you once more.
“Do you trust me?”
Your hand finally took his, trembling legs making their way to him.
You took a deep breath. You trusted him, even when your senses told you it was a bad idea. You trusted him even when your survival instinct fought hard to push you away from the edge.
You trusted him.
Wholeheartedly.
Fully.
Unconditionally.
You both jumped.
The rational part of your mind told you it had happened in a matter of seconds; it couldn’t have been more than four, considering the height of the building and the fact that you didn’t splatter all over the floor. For the other part of your mind, though, it was endless. You fell, and you fell, and you couldn’t stop falling; the floor was close but never close enough.
The scream that left your lungs made your throat ache, your chest rumbling as the scream kept coming and coming. Your heart wasn’t in your chest anymore; you were sure it had already exploded the moment your feet left the building. You were even surprised you were still breathing; your lungs didn’t seem to get enough air in them. You had heard how people that fall from skyscrapers die from heart attacks rather than the fall itself. Now you could see that happening; the longer you thought about it, the more you felt close to death. That was until you felt pressure on your hand. Satoru’s hand never left yours, even when you tried to pull your arms to your face, trying to cover your eyes from the ever-closing floor.
One moment you were in the air, and next you were back at the edge of the building.
Your legs failed, almost making you drop to the ground, but his arms were there to keep you steady. Miraculously, you still had a living heart, as you felt it’s beating on your ears every time. Gojo’s worried face gained your attention, his eyes scanning you as his lips moved, but his words never reached your ears. Only then did you finally process what had happened.
You had jumped from a building, and you had teleported back.
You were still alive.
The fear was quickly replaced by blinding excitement. The adrenaline coursing through your veins felt like hot liquid fire, this time the trembling of your body caused by it. The sudden feeling that you could conquer the world overcame you; you wanted to do it again and again and again so you could feel like this forever.
A laughter came out of you, which initially had scared Satoru, but the more you laughed, the more he was sure you were ok.
“I can’t believe I just did that.” You said as Satoru’s hands helped you stand up.
“I told you it was awesome.” He laughed along with you.
You jumped to his arms, pulling him in for a kiss. Your hands traveled all over his hair, pulling it as you deepened the kiss. His hands brought you up, settling on your ass once your legs wrapped around his waist. Something in him was desperate for your touch, his hands holding you in place as both of you kept exploring each other.
You pulled away from him, excited to tell him you wanted to try it again, but he interrupted you.
“Let’s do it aga—“
“I love you.”
Your heart stopped this time.
You knew he had loved you for a long time. Every moment you spent together you could see it. His love was in everything he did. It was in the way he made you laugh, in the way he would make sure you’d have enough to eat, in the way he would buy your favorite snacks on the way to your apartment, on the way he would offer to do the dishes so you could go take a shower, on the way he would caress your face, his eyes screaming the words he didn’t dare to say. His love was everywhere.
A long time ago you had never thought you would love someone the way you had loved Toji, and in a way you were right. Loving Toji had been intense, warm, and comfortable; for a man so closed up to love, he had surprisingly shown you so much of it, even if it had taken some time for it. You had loved Toji first, and you had given him your unconditional love even before he knew your feelings. Loving Satoru was different; it was quick and unexpected, but most importantly, it made you feel alive. You had gotten used to the shell of yourself you presented to the world, something you had gotten comfortable with, but Satoru had managed to break it with his bubbly, eccentric persona. He had teared the walls you had built, little by little chirping them apart, until your heart could beat for someone again. There was no comparison between Toji and Satoru; they both had your heart forever, just in different ways.
He loved you even when you felt like you didn’t deserve it.
So how could you not love him back?
“I love you too.”
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The smell of pancakes filled Satoru’s apartment, along with the sound of his tinkering around the kitchen. You stretched yourself along his bed, your skin welling the coolness of the expensive sheets he had. Your body was sore; the toll of yesterday’s curse, along with your nighttime activities with Satoru, had left you drained.
You stood up, using one of his shirts to cover up. The sight that welcomed you once you reached the kitchen made you laugh. Pans and food were scattered everywhere as the sorcerer went back and forth from the pans to the freshly made orange juice he was trying to make.
“Who would’ve thought pancakes and orange juice would be your one true enemy?” You chuckled.
He turned around to face you, his hands carrying a bowl with what you assumed was pancake batter. A shy smile adorned his face, which managed to swell your heart with love.
“It’s not my fault the instructions on the recipe weren’t clear; how was I supposed to know you had to grease the pan with butter?”
“I’m pretty sure every recipe says so; even then, it’s basic knowledge.”
You walked closer to him, reaching out to him for a morning kiss, but he backed away.
"Don't; I have a raw egg all over me.”
“Now, how did you manage to do that?”
Satoru shrugged his shoulders, going back to his duty. You propped yourself on top of one of the kitchen stools, looking at the white hair sorcerer finish cooking the last of the pancakes.
“You need any help?”
“Nah, I’m almost done. I was trying to bring you breakfast to bed, but I was sabotaged.”
“Sure you were.”
After a few minutes of cooking, the last of the pancakes rested well on top of the mountain he had created. The orange juice was now in a clear crystal jar right in front of you. It would’ve been a nice scenery if it wasn’t for the mess that tainted the background. Satoru began throwing everything in the sink in a rushed manner, his hand reaching out to grab the kitchen towel.
You stood up from your seat, snatching the towel out of his hand.
“Why don’t you go take a shower while I clean this?” You offered as you thought it would be uncomfortable to eat covered in eggs, flour, and orange juice.
He shook his head. “No, I had this whole thing planned and—“
You interjected “And I’m very grateful that you did this, but I also want you to enjoy breakfast. Besides, it’s just going to be a little cleaning. I promise, as soon as you get out, I’ll stop cleaning.”
Satoru, as stubborn as he always was, was about to refuse your help, but to his dismay and your amusement, his hand landed unspilled batter that covered a part of the counter. You tried to control your laughter, which only made it more obvious, earning an eye roll from the sorcerer.
“Fine, but no more cleaning as soon as I get out of the shower.”
You lifted your right hand. “I solemnly swear.”
He left the room with quick steps, the sound of his discarding his clothes echoing from his bedroom. You put yourself in action, focusing on just cleaning the counters as it felt like a more important task than tackling the mountain of dishes; Satoru could take care of that.
You were almost done throwing all the trash that you had gathered in the can when a ringtone surprised you. Satoru’s phone had somehow ended behind the toaster, and surprisingly, it had survived being stainless with all the food flying around it. You wiped your hands quickly before grabbing it, Ijichi’s name flashing on the screen.
“Ijichi is calling you.” You yelled at him, sure that he would be able to hear you even in the shower.
“I’ll call him back later.” He yelled back.
You put it in the counter, letting the call go to voicemail. You were about to keep going with your duties when the phone rang again—another call from Ijichi. This ringing kept going for a little while until it went to voicemail once more, then the texts came, one after the other.
A sudden heaviness installed in your stomach; maybe it was something important; it had to be for him to be so insistent. You grabbed the phone in your hands, typing the four-digit password to unlock it. Another message popped up on his screen, and you clicked on it.
Ijichi
I’m sorry to interrupt you, Mr. Gojo, but we have a situation. 9:37 am
I wouldn’t be so insistent if it wasn’t serious. 9:37 am
Please get back to me as soon as possible. 9:38 am
It’s about the Fushiguro kids. 9:38 am
Fushiguro kids.
Fushiguro.
You dropped the phone; it’s screen is cracking as it touches the ground. It couldn’t be them, could it? There was no way Satoru had anything to do with those kids. Why would he? You had never even told him Toji’s last name, none the less told him about his kid and stepkid. It couldn’t be, could it?
“What’s wrong?” His voice startled you, a concerned look on his face as you walked towards you.
You gather all the strength you have, unsure whether the words will actually come out of your mouth without getting stuck in your throat. You looked at the floor, thinking it would be the only way you would be able to talk.
“Who are the Fushiguro kids?” Your voice was barely audible, the straining in it impossible to miss. You looked back at him, hoping to find his usual smile or perhaps just a confused look on why you were acting like that.
You hoped for anything that would tell you it wasn’t the same Fushiguro family you were thinking about.
Instead, wide, panicked, blue eyes looked back at you.
“I—“
“Don’t fucking lie to me.”
It didn’t take a genius to figure out Satoru was thinking of an excuse—anything he could bullshit you to take away the anger that began simmering in you.
“Who the fuck are the Fushiguro kids?”
A heartbeat went by, then he answered.
“Megumi and Tsumiki.”
A scoff left your lips. Everything in the room was spinning, the beating of your heart pounding incessantly on your head. Millions of questions ran through your head, but you were unable to focus on one, each second passing you by and flooding you with emotions you weren’t sure how to process. Was this how it felt to be in his unlimited void?
“How do you know them?”
“Toji Fushiguro told me about Megumi.”
“Did you know who I was?” Your voice was barely above a whisper.
He hesitated, not wanting to reveal himself, but there was no point in it, not anymore.
“Yes.”
“What—? How did you—?”
There it was, the same sadness you would sometimes catch behind his eyes. You had never dared to ask about it, sure that he would come to tell you with time. You had guessed it had to be with Suguru; the things you had asked about him earning almost the same sad look of losing his best friend.
But this wasn’t a sadness about losing someone. It was a sadness knowing everything would end as soon as you knew the truth.
No. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be him.
He couldn’t be the one.
Not Satoru.
“No.” You backed away from him, his presence digging a hole in your chest. “No, no, no, no.”
“Please, let me explain.” His hand tried to reach you but you slapped it away.
“What the fuck are you going to explain?” You screamed, the last syllables of your sentence breaking as tears pooled in your eyes. “That you fucking killed—“ you couldn’t even say the words; they tasted like vile rising from your esophagus.
“I’m sorry.”
Rage.
Pure, blinding rage.
Your senses, your body, your thoughts—everything was swarmed by rage. Your hand, almost like in automatic motion, punched the sorcerer square in the face, landing him across the room. His body left a dent in the wall; the few frames he had hanging were now broken apart, all scattered over the floor.
Before you could think about it, your hand had already reached out to your bag, taking out the knife Toji had given you. The shock from your hit had passed, and now Satoru stood up, a small cut on his cheek. You sensed him before he had even teleported, the sudden cursed energy surge behind you alerting you of his moves. You grabbed him by his throat, slamming him back down to the floor.
After spending time, you had learned to read every part of Satoru that involved his fighting techniques along with the signature of his cursed energy. You had learned everything that was to learn about the greatest sorcerer in the world, and now you were going to use it to finish him, even if you died.
You grabbed your knife, your cursed energy amplifying the one the object already owned, and you aimed it at his heart. You wanted him to feel the same pain he had caused you when he killed him, the pain he caused when he had lied to you. You were going to carve his heart out, and maybe then he could understand a fraction of what you were feeling.
His teleportation worked again, this time placing himself further away from you in the room. The tip of your knife crashed against the wood panels, leaving a dent in them.
“Please, stop.” He pleaded, the sorrow in his voice making your heartache ten times worse.
You didn’t stop; you couldn’t allow yourself to stop.
Your body smashed against his, knocking him down against the bed. Slash after slash he dodged, your knife unable to pierce his skin. In between movements, he kept pleading with you, the desperation in his voice increasing with each attempt.
Somewhere along the fight you saw an opportunity at his feet. You weren’t sure if it had been on purpose or maybe it was just a coincidence his guard wasn’t as high as you had expected, but you seized the moment, your arm managing to pin him against a wall.
The knife you held shoots up straight to his neck, the blade making contact with his skin. You were ready to slash a straight line along it, but the back of your mind told you something was wrong.
You could touch him. All along the fight, you had been able to touch him. The cut he had from your punch still bled slightly, another piece of evidence of your proximity to him. Every kick, every punch, and every tackle had made direct impact with his body.
Not once during the fight had he activated his infinity.
The blade dug on his skin, and a faint drop of blood trailed down his neck.
“Why the fuck aren’t you using your infinity? I could fucking kill you.” You screamed in his face, digging your knife deeper into his skin. “Why aren’t you fighting back?”
A despairing smile showed on his face.
“Because I love you.”
Hot, salty tears cascaded along your face, the bridge of anger finally snapping as the sorrow took over everything you could feel. You couldn’t stop them; the more you tried to contain them, the bigger the hole in your chest grew.
He loved you, and you believed him.
You loved him back, and that love made you want to die. You couldn’t kill him no matter how much you pretended you wanted to; you knew you couldn’t survive losing someone that you loved again.
No matter how much you hated him at the same time.
You stood up, ready to grab your pants and bolt through the door. His hand stopped you, steading you in place.
“Please, don’t leave.” His begged, tears matching yours. “Please don’t leave me.”
Two bleeding hearts pleaded for each other that morning; one begged for forgiveness while the other begged to be put out of its misery. Both of them were entwined by the love they had for each other, along with the hurt they caused.
Yours was the only one that got what it wanted.
“Never contact me again. I’ll kill you if you do.”
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kkayyerr · 1 day ago
Text
Collar me.
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Summary: You had always struggled with trying to find out where you actually belong, because Pogues never felt like an actual family to you. Until one day Rafe Cameron decided to show you just how exactly it feels to be someone’s belonging.
Pairing: Dark!Rafe Cameron x Pogue!puppy!reader.
Warnings: NSFW, Kidnapping, dub-con, weapons, swearing, degradation, humiliation, pet-play, orgasm denial, fingering, Dom!Rafe, Sub!Reader, slight dacryphillia, ownership.
Words count: 2,2 k
You knew that the Pogue’s lifestyle wasn’t for you since the first day you had joined them. Of course there was something exciting about all those trips and adventures, but somehow you felt lonely even in the large group of people. They had given you love and support and tried to make you get used to their lifestyle, but it still wasn’t enough for you. 
You still had a feeling that you didn’t belong with them.
That you don’t belong anywhere at all. 
You wanted something else; you wanted a quiet life under someone’s protection. Sometimes you just wanted to give control into someone else’s hands. 
Sometimes you just wanted to be controlled.
Of course you could never admit that, though. For Pogues, it sounded like hell, like something they would never expect to hear from you or each other. So you kept your mask on, trying to forget about those peaceful life dreams.��How could your life even become peaceful when even a night at the open-air cinema had turned into pure chaos?
You were standing by, looking at how Kooks suddenly started to outnumber your friends. It started with only Rafe and Topper, but the others showed up also. You knew that you shouldn’t have dived into their conflict, but you just couldn’t stay there and watch your friends getting severely beat up by a group of assholes.
You approached them and stood right between your friends and Kooks. All of them were breathing hard, preparing for another round. You quickly jumped right onto Rafe, kicking him in the chest, not harming but definitely getting his attention and winning some time for the Pogues.
 
„So you’re not going to hit me? What a gentleman.”
 
You knew that your behavior was going to ruffle his feathers, and you were doing that on purpose. The idea of pushing his buttons was somehow exiting to you, even though you couldn’t explain why. In the pale moonlight, you saw his face. You noticed that his expression wasn’t angry nor annoyed, no. 
He was smiling. 
That smirk sent chills down your spine; something about him was off. 
 
„I have a lot of better ideas.”
 
Right after he said that, you heard a couple of gunshots right behind you. You quickly turned around, trying to find out who had the gun in their hands, but the last thing that you saw was Pogues running away for their lives, clearly leaving you behind. At that point, you didn’t even care who had the gun; you just wanted to burst in tears there and then. 
Just a second later, you felt hit on the head from behind. Not hard enough to traumatize you, but clearly hard enough to knock you out.
The whole world turned black as your body felt down to the ground. 
„Where am I?”
 
It was the first thought that popped up in your head as you woke up in the strange place that obviously wasn’t your bed. You were completely naked, your whole body was sore, and you felt a little dizziness when you tried to stand up, so you just laid back. You also felt something on your face, but you couldn’t tell what exactly that was until you touched it with your hands. You quickly stood up, as the loud gasp of shook almost escaped from your mouth when you realized what exactly that was.
It was a muzzle.
Muzzle was covering half of your face, so you could've spoken but still would feel yourself uncomfortable enough. The one who did this to you didn’t want to gag you; they wanted to torment you using some twisted methods. You start exploring your body, looking for at least something, like bruises, cuts, or the least hand marks. But there was nothing. Your body was clear, and for some reasons it made you even more anxious. Because if nobody had touched or hurt you before, they most definitely were waiting for you to wake up. They might want you to actually feel the pain.
You started to spin your head around, trying to find something that would give you answers to all the questions in your mind. The room was empty; there was nothing. Only one window. You felt almost sick in your stomach as the view started to look very familiar.
You were in Tannyhill.
Your knees got weak, and you fell to the floor, covering your mouth with your hand. Slowly, memories started to kick in. Fight, gunshots, pogues leaving you behind—you're getting knocked out.
The puzzle was finally pieced together.
 
„You look way better without those Pogue clothes, you know?”
 
You almost jumped as you heard those voices behind you. Of course, you knew who was standing there. You slowly turned around; your face expressed pure hatred and anger towards the person who did this to you. Rafe Cameron was standing a few steps away from you; his face relaxed at first, but then his lips tugged into a small smile as he saw your face in the muzzle. He definitely was proud of what he had done.
 
„I decided to keep you around instead of killing you. I figured I could use you. At least for my entertainment.”
 
He stated, completely ignoring your warning gaze, filled with rage. You twisted your knuckles, trying to manage your emotions, but you failed, as you saw that little grin on his face that almost made your blood boil. The next moment you quickly approached him, wanted to attack him, and protected yourself at least somehow. Prove him that he was wrong.
Suddenly, you froze.
 
„Try something stupid again, and I will show you just exactly what happens to wild animals.”
 
He pressed the gun upon your head, just a moment before you could’ve actually done something to him. The hatred in your eyes now had turned into the fear. You didn’t expect that he would still have a gun with him, but you were so obviously wrong. He had the gun, and he definitely had you in his hands. He had you under control. 
 
„Don’t make me put a shock collar on you, puppy.”
 
Your lips twitched in disgust when the word „puppy” came out of his mouth. Sadly, there was nothing you could’ve done about the way he was treating you right now, and you fully acknowledged that. You slowly looked up, your gaze met his, and your skin was covered in shivers once again when you realized that there was no guilt in his eyes.
He most definitely was a psychopath.
And you most definitely were turned on. 
 
„I am not an animal, Rafe. You can’t do this!”
 
Your words only made him smirk. Of course he understood that you were a human being, even if you were a Pogue, but who said that human beings can’t become good pets? Rafe never liked animals, but he had certainly liked control and would definitely like taming a pogue. After all, you didn’t seem like a typical Pogue to him; something in you was different. 
 
„Well, your friends dumped you, so now it seems like you’re going to be my lapdog.”
 
He finally took the gun away from your head, but he was still holding it, just in case you’ll think about doing something stupid once again. He was really regretting not tying you up in the first place.
 
„And if you’re lucky, I’ll throw you a bone and give you a little pet on the head.”
 
You hated yourself so much for the fact that you were getting wet from his dirty words. Part of you, the one that had some self-respect, wanted to slap him across the face and watch how his smug expression would slowly disappear. But the other part didn’t want him to stop at all. 
 
„I will never be your little puppy, Rafe.”
 
You said, trying to keep your voice stern, even though your body had already weakened just from all the nasty thoughts that had filled up your little head. Fuck, isn’t that exactly what you wanted? He sighed, not impressed by your little attitude. After all, you were a pogue. A stubborn little girl without manners.
 
„It’s sad, you know? I thought that we were about to have our first playtime.”
 
You raised your eyebrows, obviously intrigued by his words. Mostly, you wanted to find out what he had meant by the word „playtime," even though you already had a lot of ideas in your head. While you were thinking, Rafe slowly put the gun on the nightstand and carefully inserted his hand into the pocket of his black trousers, searching for something. You were also invested in what he was doing. It was very interesting for you to find out what he was looking for. And when he finally found it, your eyes widened. He was holding a pink, beautiful collar in his hand that said „R.C.”.
 
„I won’t be wearing that.”
 
Rafe approached you, still holding the collar in front of your face, teasing you. He saw that glimpse in your eyes. You wanted to wear that little thing; you wanted to wear that so badly, but you were way too embarrassed to even think about admitting that and way too shy to say it out loud.
 
„Oh no, you’ll have to beg me to let you wear that. Being Cameron’s property is a big responsibility.”
 
You shook your head in disbelief. He was an idiot if he thought that you would actually ask, nor beg for something as humiliating as that. Of course, you wouldn’t, at least not right now. Even if you wanted too. Deep down, you also wanted to see how far he could’ve pushed you before your mask would finally slip off. 
 
„I think my friends will come for me anytime soon, so if I were you, I would quit those games.”
 
His eyes darkened for a quick moment, which surprised you because you didn’t know that he would take that childish threat seriously.
Your own face expression changed from slightly smug to confused when you felt his hands around your waist, tugging you closer to him. The next second he turned you around and roughly pushed you towards the wall, practicality pinning you against it. 
His hand quickly spread your legs without any pressure. To your own surprise, you didn’t even try to stop him; you didn’t even want him either. He leaned closer to your ear; his fingers now were teasing your outer lips, while your cunt was practically begging for his attention. 
 
„I bet you’ll come faster than your friends would, puppy.”
 
You were almost dripping wet. When his fingers finally dive in and almost immediately hit a spot, you let out a whimper, which then became a whole symphony of your moans as you arched your back from the torturous pleasure. It felt too good to be something bad or shameful. Rafe started to circle your clit, still not giving it enough attention for you to cum, but just enough for you to be on the edge, scratching the wall with your nails.
 
„Please”
 
Rafe chuckled at your plea, giving your clitter a little pitch and watching you squirm and muffle something; that would’ve most definitely come out as the loud scream. He just kept on teasing you, knowing that you would’ve cum in two seconds if he only touched your clitoral area properly. 
 
„I’m going to...”
 
Rafe suddenly stopped, not pulling out his fingers but also not making any moves. He grabbed a fistful of your hair, making you tilt back your head. He wasn’t done with you yet, and he wanted to teach you some manners. Rafe wanted to make sure that his pet would be on her best behavior.
 
„I’ll let you cum if you say something for me, deal?”
 
You automatically nodded, feeling how his fingers begin to play with your clitter again, this time softer, which somehow was even worse than his previous rough actions.
 
„You have to ask me to collar you, puppy.”
 
Your eyes widened at his words, even though you weren’t that surprised. You knew that he would pull something like that, because he always fucking did. Your knees got weaker, and your whole body started to shake as you felt that you were actually so close to finally cupping.
 
„C’mon”
 
Rafe taunt, his fingers getting rougher, teasing your clit and your inner walls, dangerously close to making it impossible for you to hold it in. Tears of overstimulation flashed down your cheeks as you finally felt ready to say those words out loud. 
 
„Collar me, Rafe.”
 
Just a small touch on your clit was more than enough for you to finally reach your breaking point. Moans of pleasure mixed with sobbings of embarrassment came out of your mouth right after you got your relief. 
Before you could’ve even thought about saying anything, you felt how something had been wrapped tightly around your neck. You knew exactly what that was, and for some reason that knowledge calmed you down. 
Now you were wearing something symbolizing your loyalty and, most importantly, your belongings. 
The pink collar with gold initials on it wasn’t looking that bad on you. 
„R.C”
Maybe the life of a property will suit you better?
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nevertheless-moving · 1 day ago
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Considering the amount of emotional and moral nuance he managed to muster up immediately post Guanyin temple (despite having a terrible week and zero good role models) AND considering his front row seat to the dissection of Jiang Wanyin and Wei Wuxian’s downfall, I think that in a time travel fix-it, Jin Ling would actually be pretty successful at brute forcing yunmeng family therapy.
I mean he'd probably cry, but even that would be good! Because 1) modeling negative male emotions beside anger, and 2) Oh shit that’s shije’s kid we made Shije’s son cry, fuck, fuck! Bam! Instant high ground! Also he has the most authority of any second gen character by virtue of the fact that he could pull “DO YOU WANT MY MOM TO DIE??? BECAUSE YOU TWO ACTING LIKE MORONS IS WHAT GOT MY MOM KILLED! NOW SIT DOWN AND SPIT OUT ALL YOUR FUCKING SECRETS OR MY MOM WILL DIE AND I’LL BREAK YOUR LEGS!!” It would work! Tell me it wouldn't work!
Not to mention once he gets a few sect leader years under his belt, he might be the best person to manage a fix-it, in general. He's got perspective. He's got political training. Others might get too caught up on the specifics of the Wen remnants or the Ying Tiger Tally or Vengeance against One Person or Another — Jin Ling is critiquing the basic structure of how Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng are living their lives and he's getting away with it.
He would even be good at dealing with Jin Guangyao, the slipperiest motherfucker in the timeline. Jin Ling's got as good a handle as anyone on his motivations, and he has sincere (if messy) affection for him, which would hit Guangyao right in his weak spot. Depending on your headcanons it may or may not be in vain, but he's got a real chance of getting the man to set some more modest and less destructive life goals.
Similarly, I think he'd do a pretty decent job at a harsh-but-fair critique of Xichen's neutrality and Mingue's rigidity and Huissang's delibrate uselessness, though getting them to listen would be more of a crapshoot.
All of this makes it especially funny how badly he would handle Wangxian.
For context: Wei Ying and Hunguang-jun are not just the gayest people Jin Ling has ever met, they are the gayest people he's ever HEARD of.
He wouldn't want to bring it up. He wouldn't mean to. He doesn't want to talk about it. But when he inevitably calls Wei Ying a slur only to be met with genuine bafflement? Jin Ling would completely lose his shit.
Because I don't think Wei Ying is going to get offended, or defensive, or have a response that his nephew could coherently mock. Wei Wuxian thinks 'hey these time traveling guys are actually pretty funny!' Him and Whom? Not even a serious topic of contention. You got me for a second, haha.
Jin Ling would break. Wei Ying eventually says something the effect of "I'm straight? Obviously?" and Jin Ling would nod once, start screaming, then climb across the table to strangle him.
It's — look. How do you fucking explain that all of the worst moments of your life were, in someway or another, characterized by Wei Wuxian and Lan Wanjii being FLAMBOYANTLY into one another.
The man who saved his life also killed his father and Jin Ling stabs him but it feels awful and — ok Lan Wanjii is cradling Wei Wuxian tenderly. Ok they're just going to go. They're leaving like that. Hunguang Jun was — is — was the Yiling Patriarch's widow, so that's another layer to add onto everything else. Hunguang-Jun is visibly expressing emotions with his face and voice and Jin Ling is going to go throw up now
Jin Ling's kidnapped at the burial mounds and everyone’s lost their spiritual energy and all his friends and family are going to die and — those two are smiling at eachother. They're telling inside jokes. They're holding hands.
Jin disciples (his own clans disciples) just shot at him and and Xiao-shushu really is what people sa— WEI YING SHOUTS ABOUT WANTING TO FUCK LAN WANJII
THEY ARE IN THE MIDDLE OF BEING KIDNAPPED AND HE DOES THIS
Jujiu is bleeding from the stomach and crying he's bleeding and crying his jujiu is doing that and Xiao-shushu caused it and his whole life is a lie and Hunguang Jun and the Yiling Patriarch are visibly groping in a corner.
And then they never stop groping again. Forever.
So yeah, I'm quite confident that if Jin Ling had to be even peripherally involved with coaching Wei Wuxian through a bisexual awakening and homoerotic courtship, he would explode. He would black out with rage. He'd make an honest and embarrassingly unsuccessful attempt at killing Lan Zhan. He would walk into a lotus pond and stay there until he drowned. He'd start heavy drinking. He'd punch a random passerby in the dick.
In conclusion, Need More Jin Ling Time Travel Fics
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seungfl0wer · 18 hours ago
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*𝙄𝙫𝙚 𝙂𝙤𝙩 𝙔𝙤𝙪*
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Pairing: Changbin x Reader (Fem)
Genre: Angst (Happy ending of course)
Warnings: Abusive father! Violence, Blood, Alcohol, Sick mother, Lots of cursing. Father is a real piece of shit and puts hands on reader multiple times. Sorry for any mistakes or missing tags.
Just for another warning because I think it’s important. This has content that could trigger some people. Please please read the warnings. If any of them make you uncomfortable please don’t read. Also a reminder. You’re not alone. No one ever should be laying their hands on you. I love you. You’re loved. You don’t ever deserve anything like this.
Find The Request Here
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-🖤
Changbin wrapped his arms around you pulling you close to him. He kissed your neck tenderly nuzzling himself into your neck. You both were snuggled up on the couch watching a show. “My angel” he said softly before softly kissing your neck once more. When you were with him it felt like nothing else mattered like the world was alright. Your moment of happiness was short lived though seeing your phone buzzing. It was your father. Just seeing his name flash on your phone made you anxious.
After your mother had passed away your dad became an even bigger monster. He was always a good for nothing, But now not working as much as he did he stayed home drinking. Your mother had told you before the only reason she had stayed with him was because she didn’t have anywhere else to go. Her family was from another country, she didn’t have much money or friends. She was such a brave woman though. You don’t know how she dealt with him so long but I guess him never really being home helped. He had gotten fired from his big job because of his drinking and anger problems. Going to work one day hungover and punching a coworker so hard it broke his nose. He had to pay a hefty fine for that. Now he has a slow job where he only works a few days.
One of your earliest memories of him being his asshole self was him telling you how he hated that you were a girl. He hated that in his words ‘that useless bitch couldn’t even give me a boy.’ He wanted a son so badly and he made sure you knew that. He never really bonded with you however he’d be damned if you didn’t respect his authority. The first time he ever laid hands on you, you were 9. You accidentally knocked over a table braking the lamp that was placed on it. He grabbed you by the wrist smacking you across the face. ‘You stupid fucking brat! Look what you did, you’re just like your fucking mother!’ He spat pushing you away from him.
After that day it just kept going. Having to wear long sleeves at school to hide the bruises. At one point you had to stay home for almost a week. You had stepped in front of him to protect your mom when he hit you square in the face busting your lip. It stayed swollen and bruised for a while. Tooth slightly cracked from the incident.
You wanted so badly to tell someone. Confide in a teacher anything. You were scared to though. Scared they’d blame your mom, put her in jail and take you away. So you endured it. As your mom started to get sick he turned more of his attacks on you. Although a complete peace of shit he wasn’t stupid. He knew if he did anything to her the doctors would see it.
After she had passed you kept yourself from the house as best as you could. Not going home as much as you possibly could. You got a job at a cafe down the road and that’s how you met changbin. He was a regular who once you started talking admitted to only coming so much to see you.
You kept your home life a secret to him as much as you could but one day you were getting intimate you forgot about the bruises. When he had lifted your shirt his smile dropped. He looked at you with wide eyes “what the fuck? Who did this to you?” He said clenching his jaw. All you could do was sob he held you in his arms rubbing your back. “I’m sorry for raising my voice I just- y/n please- what happened?” He asked.
Through your sobs you told him, you unloaded everything in a word vomit of sadness. He would and wanted to go find your father. To beat him senseless, to show him how it feels but he knew you needed him more. He held you so tightly, feeling his own heart breaking from your words. Knowing a family member could do this to someone they were supposed to protect. To love and cherish just broke him. He was such a family oriented person and now he realized why you never wanted him to meet him. Never talked about him. He asked why you couldn’t just leave explaining to him how your mother wasn’t from here, how you had no family and no one else to rely on.
“Shit- it’s my dad” you said frantically picking the phone up.
“Where the fuck are you? He spat.
“I’m- I’m just at a friend’s house” you stuttered.
He laughed “sure, you’re probably slutting around. Get your fucking ass home.”
He hung up leaving you shaking. “I gotta go.” You said picking your keys up.
“Y/n you don’t have to” Changbin said with pleading eyes.
“I’m sorry.” You said before heading to the door.
Your brain wondered what was going on. Why he needed you home. As you pulled up coming through the door you saw him slumped in his usual chair. “About fucking time” he hissed. “Do something useful and go get me some more beer” he demanded.
You stood there almost dumb founded. Before he hissed again “don’t make me say it again!”
You nodded heading down to the store and getting it for him. When you got home again you sat the beer beside him. He gave you a smirk “glad you know how to listen” he chuckled. Your nose twitched at his smell, you hated being close to him. The smell of alcohol, cigarettes and B.O. always radiated off of him. He motioned for you to leave and you did slinking back to your room to text changbin.
Him: Y/n! Text me back! I’m worried!
You: I’m fine. He just wanted beer
Him: I swear I’ll end him one of these days
You: I’m gonna go to bed ok? I’ll see you in the morning! Love you!
Him: Love you to beautiful. Text me when you wake up🖤
You fell asleep shortly after always finding peace in sleep. The next few days were the same old. Going to Changbins after work going home late when you knew he’d be passed out. Today though. You had to run home for your wallet. When you walked through the door your dad was in the kitchen. You took one look around and realized something had to have happened. Things were thrown around. Smashed. Your body froze before you could go to walk back out he saw you.
“Where do you think you’re fucking going!” He yelled. He made a bee line toward you.
“I’m- I’m picking up another shift at work I just came home to grab something.” You lied.
“Bull fucking shit!” He spat.
He grabbed you by your throat lifting you up against the wall. His eyes were dark, knuckles bloody from punching the wall. “I get fucking fired from my god damn job only to come home to see you running back out? For what huh? To go fucking whore around some more?” He said. “No! There’s gonna be some fucking changes!” He screamed.
He dropped you to the floor before grabbing you by your wrist dragging you to the kitchen. “You’re gonna get another fucking job, you’re gonna start paying the other bills!” He spat. “You got it!”
When you didn’t answer right away he slapped more like punched you across the face. “Answer me bitch!” He said gritting his teeth. All you could do was nod scared for your life. You felt a warmth running down, your nose was bleeding.
“You’re fucking pathetic you know that, just like your fucking mother! That bitch. That bitch fucking deserved what she got! I’m glad she’s fucking dead!” He spat. Something had come over you at that point. You shoved back making him stumble backwards. You made a dash to the door luckily in his drunken stupor he stumbled getting back up. You ran. Not even bothering getting in your car afraid it take to long.
So you ran. You ran as fast as you could until you couldn’t anymore. You hid yourself in the bushes at the park panting. Trying to catch your breath as you fumbled to call changbin. “Hey angel” he said happily but when he heard you breathing heavy his heart sank. “Y/n what’s wrong? Are you ok?” He asked.
“I’m- I’m at the- park down- down the road- please” you stuttered out.
“Stay there I’m just down the road!” He said before grabbing his keys speeding to you.
He gripped the steering wheel afraid for what had happened. “Angel? I’m here!” He yelled out.
You peaked your head out, when he got a good look at you anger filled his body. ‘That mother fucker’ he snarled. There was no time to be angry right now though. You needed him. So desperately needed him.
He sat beside you pulling you into his arms. He took his jacket placing it around you as he whipped away the blood from your nose. He noticed the handprint mark around your neck, he gritted his teeth seething. You sobbed, holding onto him for dear life. He rubbed your back “ssh sh it’s ok angel, I’m here, I got you.” He said.
He rocked you back and forth letting your sobs subside before asking you anything. “Does it hurt?” He asked lifting your face to him looking over your nose and neck. You nodded. It hurt to swallow, hurt to breathe, everything just hurt. “Can I take you to the hospital?” He asked. You were hesitant but you nodded.
The car ride there all he could do was watch over you. Scared something could seriously be wrong. Cursing at himself for not being there. He was in the process of finding a new place. A new place so you could move in with him. The only reason you didn’t live with him now was for the fact he had other roommates and if the tenant found out about you they all could be evicted. He was gonna surprise you today with the good news, that he found a place. Close to his work and close to a bakery you had wanted to work at.
When he had gotten to the hospital they all looked at him like he had done it. They checked you over asked him a million questions. The cops being called from below to ask him questions. They weren’t completely shocked when they heard your dad’s name. He was notorious for his anger outbursts and violence. He had a list of charges that had gotten one being the man he punched at his old job. They wrote everything down, took pictures of your bruises and wounds. Asking you lots of questions before leaving.
“Y/n did you know you had a broken rib at one point?” A nurse asking you.
You shook your head.
“Looks like it happened a while ago, it fused back but not properly. You ever have sharp pains?” She asked.
“Yeah, she use to complain about side pains but they kinda just stopped.” Changbin chimed in.
“How is she right now?” Changbin asked.
“Nothings broken however you’re lucky, the pressure he had around your throat bruised your vocal cords. Any harder you could be looking at serious damage”
The nurse had left to grab some papers changbin took your hand into his. He kissed your cheek softly rubbing his thumb over yours. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there” he said softly.
You shook your head “I don’t want him hurting you either” you said looking up at him.
“I’m proud of you though, pushing back and getting yourself out of there. Your mom would be proud” he said with a small smile. His words made you smile a bit. “She definitely would.”
“I had some news to tell you” he said hoping this would make you smile.
“Yeah?” You asked.
“Yeah. I’m moving. Well we’re moving” he said with a smile. When you looked at him a bit confused his smile grew “I got a place for the two of us. Wish it could have happened sooner but-“ he said.
You wrapped your arms around him hugging him tightly “we’re gonna live together? I’ll get to spend all the time with you?” You said eagerly.
“Yep! Got the keys today!”
When the door opened you thought it was the nurse however it was an officer. “Y/n we have your father in custody. Do you have a place to stay for the mean time?” He asked looking over at your boyfriend.
“I do, but can I go back and get something’s you asked.
The officer nodded “I’ll have to escort you because it’s a crime scene now.”
You nodded.
“Whenever you get discharged we can go alright?” He said before walking out.
After you went to the house grabbing your clothes, laptop and a few things you smiled saying good riddance to this place. You had the few things from your mom packed, having nothing more in this house for you.
Moving in with changbin was something to get use to. However he helped you every step of the way. You got into much needed therapy and after your father’s sentence you felt like things were going up. As a little house warming gift Changbin had surprised you with a cat. You had bonded with him with the many times he had taken you to the cat cafe. You always said how much you wanted him and now you had him. You had your little family now.
Changbin showered you in love as usual, never missing a chance to compliment you, praise you and tell you how much he loved you. You knew in your heart your mom wherever she was, she was happy. Happy seeing her little girl finally get out of the situation. To live her life to the fullest.
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵
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Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp
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dropthedemiurge · 1 day ago
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Love for Love's Sake: Bоnus Stаge (spoilers!!)
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Love For Love's Sake (Love Supremacy Zone): bonus stagе is a short spin-off story from the author of the original novel, released in June 2024 (after the drama series). It's about 19yo Tae Myungha (from Game World) being transferred into the future and him slowly realizing how 29yo Myungha has been living happy 10 years with Cha Yeowoon and friends.
I promised to keep talking about it and thank you, guys, for enabling me xD Before translating bits from chapters, here's the full summary of everything that happened in this story – for those of you who are not that patient and don't fear spoilers :] I'll put them under more anyway so those who don't want to read the summary won't read them accidentally!
Warnings: suicidal intentions
Let me know your thoughts about this spinoff *д*
Love for Love's Sake: Bonus Stage (summary)
"If your life was a book, what would you want it be about?" "How would the first chapter begin and what sentence would be the last one?" "I wish it was about love."
19yo Myungha (so before canon timeline) is playing games in PC cafe. He doesn't really have money but wants to spend time so he wouldn't have to live it
On the crossroad, he sees a child running before the signal changes, and he jumps to save them but instead of getting hit, he feels like falling. He sees sunbae who pushes him. Message [World has been changed] appears.
Myungha finds himself in the arms of a handsome man who knows him - but he doesn't know this man. Myungha runs away but the man is faster.
[Mission: Make Tae Myungha happy.] [Reward: Memory] [Clear until (0%) ♥♥♥♥♥] [Penalty: Can't return to the original timeline]
Myungha is diagnosed with amnesia. He should be 29yo now, so he just goes along. Yeowoon decides to start over again and introduces himself.
Yeowoon and Myungha have been living together for 6 years and dating for 10 years. 19-Myungha is shocked to know this.
Ahn Sia, Kyunghoon and Sangwon immediately run to check whether Myungha is okay, 19-Myungha is shocked that people worry about him and they've been friends for 10 years.
Yeowoon asked if Myungha would hypothetically date him - just to make sure - but he still wouldn't let Sangwon in before others come (he's sooo jealous)
Sangwon finds younger Myungha a lot of fun, Yeowoon wants to fight with him. Others come, so they try to figure out what's happening.
29yo Myungha is a teacher respected by kids. The girl in his class wanted to kill herself so she went to the rooftop, Myungha ran after her but ended up falling down, and Yeowoon caught him (19-Myungha)
Sia is a shopping mall CEO and a popular influencer now, Kyunghoon does photography/filming professionally, Sangwon introduces himself as 'the one who Myungha rejected when he was 18yo'.
Everyone wants to have chicken and beer but 19-Myungha is a minor so they have chicken and cola and a group sleepover at Myungha/Yeowoon's house :]
Yeowoon tried to sleep with Myungha in one bed but eventually ran away to the living room, flustered.
They all decide to do a trip down the memory lane, since Myungha is "having amnesia".
Yeowoon is a gold medalist now, and many kids go to Shinyeop school now because he made it prestigious.
They visit old Yeowoon's house, and Yeowoon quietly tells him they had kissed here for the first time (on the stairs) 19-Myungha is flustered because he feels feelings that he doesn't know the source of. But he never had his first kiss, never thought about ideal type or love so he's can't stop thinking about it. He tried to take Yeowoon's hand but ran out of time.
After this trip, in the car Myungha clears 20% of his mission and sees flashbacks from the 10 passed years: how they were grilling meat at the rooftop, how they played at the sea.
Yeowoon went to the store to get ice cream, while Myungha and Sangwon were left alone waiting. Sangwon told 19-Myungha about precious memories with him (dogs!), how he was his first love and he kept regretting what if he made a different first impression on Myungha – and now he can.
So he asks for one more chance to start over but gets rejected because Yeowoon was faster once again. Sangwon accepts that his first love is finally over and walks away.
Yeowoon says he likes Myungha more anyway, but 19-Myungha doesn't know it so Yeowoon says he'll teach him. They go to amusement park (closed again) by the sea.
Myungha insists on going to the popular cafe, Yeowoon is hesitant but doesn't reveal the truth until Myungha meets his mom there. Yeowoon takes him away in a hurry as 19-Myungha wants to talk to her in anger. Myungha cries. He thinks if he didn't have Yeowoon next to him now, his mom's reaction would be his last straw.
Mission is cleared to 40%. 19-Myungha sees 18yo Yeowoon crying and being comforted by "him".
19-Myungha thinks the person Yeowoon fell in love with is nothing like him, so he runs away. Yeowoon catches up with him.
Suddenly, they meet his fans. 19-Myungha is confused to learn he's quite popular and has 100k followers on his YT channel where he's been posting vlogs for 10 years (Yeowoon made him do it). He's used to being widely hated as a Crazy Dog, and not widely loved.
19-Myungha doesn't want to restore memories because he doesn't want to return to his original timeline. But he also feels acutely that 29-Myungha is a very different person from him. So he openly tells Yeowoon about the game mission, and Yeowoon believes him.
They return home, and 19-Myungha notices that Yeowoon still cherishes him like they were new lovers and not 10yo couple that usually feels like a family. Yeowoon was testing his reaction to skinship. Myungha calls him to sleep and teases him for having dirty thoughts.
19-Myungha is scared to sleep because he fears to wake up from a good dream. Yeowoon comforts him, while Myungha teases again and asks whether he's going to kiss. Yeowoon responds he'll wait until Myungha does it himself, like the first time (I guess, it's a bit different from drama?)
In the morning, Myungha learns that his grandma is still alive in this timeline and is in the hospital with injured leg. He rushes there and cries a little seeing her alive. He pleads her to come live with them but the grandma is like 'wtf this kid gone insane'.
His memories are cleared until 60% and he remembers time spent with his grandma.
19-Myungha watches videos on "his" Youtube channel and he sees what kind of life 29-Myungha lived and what kind of person he was. He finds they weren't actually that different and he could become him. He sees how liked he was and what kind of person younger Yeowoon was too.
They go to get groceries, and suddenly 19-Myungha is surrounded by kids that claim he's their homeroom teacher. Yeowoon saves him from awkwardness, it seems like they don't know Yeowoon and Myungha are dating. The kids say that their entire class will always love their teacher Myungha, and 19-Myungha understands why he chose this job.
Mission is cleared until 80%. He sees flashbacks from teaching kids, he still keeps in touch with the ones that left. 19-Myungha starts to smile.
But he still doesn't want to go home, he's also scared that original Myungha comes back and he will disappear. He doesn't want to leave.
Yeowoon tells him he'll be waiting for him even if he goes back to his time. He tells him to return and find 18yo Yeowoon, because he exists there and he will definitely like and choose Myungha.
Myungha is overwhelmed with feelings and goes to kiss Yeowoon. This time he's the inexperienced one.
The timeline written down by Myungha: "First meeting at 19, first fight at 20, living together at 23, passing teacher's exam, Yeowoon breaking the world record, Myungha becoming homeroom teacher, having 5 anniversary trip".
Last 20% are still missing. He's waiting for Yeowoon to come home, he returns with the cake and flowers. It's their 10th anniversary today, so Yeowoon insists he still has to celebrate, despite the situation. Myungha feels bad that he always forgets about anniversaries.
Yeowoon proposes to Myungha. He gives him his wedding plan and prepared funds.
Myungha laughs (while Yeowoon is annoyed :D) and gets positive buff, as he falls in love. [Mission is cleared until 99.9%]. He witnesses more happy flashbacks.
Because it's legally difficult, Yeowoon still wants to get married. Myungha tells him if he proposes again in 10 years, he'll accept. And teases him for being in such a rush to speedrun the relationship.
He remembers all memories from 10 years of their life and love together, he tells Yeowoon 'of course' and finally decides to return home and meet Yeowoon in his own timeline.
But Myungha is scared because there's still 0.1% to fail. He remembers the sunbae who pushed him before the world has changed. He wonders who that was.
He sees himself talking with sunbae, who asks him what is happy life to Myungha and if his life was a book, what would it be about.
"If your life was a book, what would you want it be about?" Someone is asking next to me. "...love. I wish it was about love." I wished that this thing, which was so common that I could hear about it everywhere but have never really felt it, could exist in my life too. The sunbae smiled quietly. "I just decided on a title".
Sunbae tells Myungha that humans are made of stars and apologizes that he was so late. He asks him to live the way he wants to.
He pushes him again. Message [The world has been changed] appears.
29yo Myungha wakes up next to Yeowoon and immediately goes to hug him. He finally feels like his soul and body are perfectly aligned, and he remembers how lonely he was when he was 19.
He tells Yeowoon they'll go see stars on their honeymoon trip. But first, they want to take a trip to Taiwan and the grandma is bitter they're not taking her with them because she's convinced they're gonna secretly get married there. But Myungha and Yeowoon want to get married in Korea.
[Mission: Make Tae Myungha happy is completed with 100%]
29-Myungha goes to meet the girl in his class who he saved on the rooftop. They both talk about how they don't want to die anymore and they should never give up. The girl also says Yeowoon suits him well, and Myungha promises to invite her to their wedding.
[END OF THE GAME.]
[LOADING]
19yo Myungha gets back to his conscience on the street, as someone asks him if he's okay. He is surprised to see Yeowoon, while Yeowoon is displeased that Myungha knows his name since they never met before.
Yeowoon walks away, but Myungha starts running after him.
[ENTERING THE LOVE SUPREMACY ZONE]
That's it 🥺 Of course, there are many amazing and touching moments in the story itself but I wrote down the main points. Aren't they precious?!
Tag list: @pickletrip @bunni-bun @illuminutiae @kaleidoskuls @delesaria-blog @maybe-boys-do-love
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purple-plum-petals · 17 hours ago
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Hello!! I see your requests for Homicipher are open and I got giddy :D (starving for more content) May I request fluff drabble for Mr Silviar? Maybe his s/o teaching him how to say "I love you" in human language? Thank you!
⊱ Those Three Words ⊰ || Mr. Silvair X Reader
╭─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╮   Character(s): Mr. Silvair (Homicipher/文字化化) Reader Type: Human (Gender-Neutral Pronouns) Warning(s): Spoilers for Homicipher (specifically Route End: Mr. Silver Hair 1), Canon-typical Mentions of Violence (and Horror-Elements), Cultural Barriers (Mr. Silvair Doesn’t Fully Comprehend Certain Emotions). Anything spoken in the other world’s language will be bolded. Genre: Drabble, Fluff, Slight Angst, Pre-Established Romantic Relationship (It’s Complicated, honestly). Word Count: ~3,280 Request: “Hello!! I see your requests for Homicipher are open and I got giddy :D (starving for more content) May I request fluff drabble for Mr Silviar? Maybe his s/o teaching him how to say "I love you" in human language? Thank you!” Author’s Note: Mr. Silvair!!! He’s genuinely so pretty, y’all – it’s not fair. 😔 I find his overall character to be quite fascinating, and a part of me is really hoping the game gets a DLC or something to further expand on each of the character’s lore (and more moments with the MC, of course). Like game, what do you mean that some of the monsters may have been humans while others probably never were?? I desperately need more food… I headcanon that Mr. Silvair was either 1. never human, or 2. has been in the other world for a very long time, resulting in the loss of his memory as a human which could be why he’s so interested in researching them/maintaining the MC’s humanity. 🤔 But that’s just a theory – a game theory! Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
→ If you enjoyed my work, please reblog it if you can! Exposure on Tumblr is based on reblogging content rather than liking it, so your support would be much appreciated!  ♡ ╰─━━━━━━━━━━━━─╯
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Even after everything that had happened between you and this world’s resident human-enjoyer, you surprisingly still felt at ease with Mr. Silvair. That comfortability, though, made you think hard about your sanity. After all, it probably wasn’t normal to be comfortable around someone who enjoyed taking you apart and watching your body put itself back together over and over again. Yet, you did, and you didn’t mind your current arrangement as much as you probably would have in the past. 
Mr. Silvair’s home was destroyed in a fiery explosion (courtesy of himself), so you had offered to help him find a new one. You managed to locate a large room, one that he deemed satisfactory enough to call his base, and you had been staying with him indefinitely since then. As long as you had a comfy bed to lay in and someone else to keep you company, you were happy. 
Your other friends(?) frequently stopped by as well to say hello, the most common ones being Mr. Crawling and Mr. Chopped. While you were occasionally hit with a feeling of loneliness, it was hard to feel that way with so many friendly faces around. Well… maybe their faces weren’t that friendly, but they were kind and gentle with you, and that’s what truly mattered. 
You hear the sound of Mr. Silvair moving around in the room adjacent to the one you typically stayed in, and you wonder to yourself what his plans for today are. The tall, long-haired man spent most of his time engaged in research. You didn’t see him as frequently as one would expect despite the fact you two were practically roommates. All you could do was hope he wasn’t messing around with and subsequently angering any more terrifying, violent ghosts. You enjoyed your current home, and going out to look for another one wasn’t very high on your list of things to do. 
The Rubik’s Cube in your hand was still as scattered as ever, and it seemed like, no matter how long you spent trying to solve it, you were only able to successfully complete one side. Mr. Masque was kind enough to give it to you (he apparently had a whole stash of the things somewhere), and his gift was something you were immensely grateful for. Attempting to figure out the puzzle helped you pass the time wherever you were alone (and it most likely helped you keep your head on straight). 
You’re currently lying flat on your back atop the plush bed in the relatively empty living space, looking up at the gray concrete ceiling with a blank stare. Once you decide you’ve loafed around for long enough, you stand up slowly from the bed, placing the cube gently on the covers of the cot. You stretch your arms above your head, a strangled noise coming from your throat at the movement of your stiff muscles, and you begin to make your way to the other room where your… 
What even was Mr. Silvair to you? While yes, you were fond of him – hell, you’d go as far as to say you loved him – you knew he didn’t feel the same. You remember the moment he told you “I not understand like”, and that he didn’t want to save you from your condition, no… he found you entertaining to keep around, and that’s why he did what he did. 
It was complicated, you thought, trying to have a relationship with a being who didn’t grasp what the concept of love was. Deep down, though, you knew you wouldn’t change it for the world. He enjoyed your presence, and that was all you could ask for. 
You walk over to the metal door and knock, waiting for a response. After a moment, you hear Mr. Silvair’s voice echo, “Enter.”
The door opens with a slight creak as you twist the knob, peeking your head inside the somewhat grimy space. The room, still fairly new, didn’t have as much blood or gore as his old one did. There were fresh stains on the floor and wall, you noted, and you couldn’t help but wonder who or what they were from exactly. It didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things, though, so you didn’t bother asking. 
You grin up at the taller man and give him a small wave, saying softly, “Hello. I not bother?”
He returns your smile, placing the scalpel in his hand on the stainless steel tray that held a variety of medical tools. It looked like he was in the process of cleaning the many, typically blood-stained, pieces of equipment. Mr. Silvair turns to face you and replies gently, “Hello. You not bother. Enter.”
Tilting his head to one side, his long, silver locks move when he does, cascading down his head and slipping off his shoulder at the movement. His smile drops slightly before he asks, “Feeling unwell? Injured? Need cure?”
“No, no cure.” You quickly say, not quite in the mood to be dissected or taken apart right now (honestly, though, you never really were, even if you did understand why it needed to be done). You pause by the door before finally shutting it behind you, the both of you now alone in the private and secluded space. 
Ugh – why was it so hard to say what was on your mind??
After taking a moment to build up your confidence, you tell Mr. Silvair while fidgeting with the rubber of the clear raincoat you wore, “I want see you. Communicate.”
He hums and smiles at your admission, walking over to you before placing a calloused hand on your face. Your eyes close on instinct, and your breathing shutters when he rubs his thumb across your cheek. A part of you wanted to be annoyed with him since he had to be aware of the effect he had on you, yet you didn’t want to run the risk of him removing his cool palm from your skin, so you kept your mouth shut. 
It had taken quite some time for Mr. Silvair to get to this point of physical affection with you (something he began doing more often after he saw how much you enjoyed getting head-pats from Mr. Crawling), so you didn’t want to ruin any progress you two had made in your complicated and unconventional relationship. 
“Okay,” Mr. Silvar starts, removing his hand from your face as he gestures to one of the two chairs in the room. He smiles down at you before saying, “Sit. We communicate.”
You do as you’re told without speaking another word, your hands folded in your lap after you sit down, watching Mr. Silvair take a seat on the chair across from you. You talk with him for quite some time, doing your best to update him on your current progress with the puzzle since that was pretty much the only thing you had going on in your life. While it wasn’t satisfying to speak in the other world’s language because it tended to miss most of the nuances of speech, it was the only way the two of you could communicate. 
Mr. Silvair seemed to pick up on your frustration, seeing you were growing annoyed at the lack of words in your arsenal – the term you were looking for wasn't coming to mind. In response, he tilts his head to the side and asks you, “You upset. Why?”
“Not right words.” You reply, brows furrowed when you look up at him, your gaze landing on the bloody bandages wrapped around his eyes. You turn your head to look down at the floor, the somewhat fresh pool of blood perfectly matching the color of the Rubik’s Cube. You point to the puddle and turn to ask Mr. Silvair, “What’s this called in your language? Can you tell me how to say this color?”
“Blood.” Mr. Silvair responds, not understanding what you wanted him to explain. 
“No, no.” You quickly reply, shaking your head. You continue to glance between him and the blood, enunciating your words even though he didn’t understand your language the same way you were able to understand his. You didn’t back down or give up, though, saying again, “The color – I want to know what color blood is.”
He pauses, one hand under his chin as he seemingly takes a moment to figure out what you are asking him. After a few beats, Mr. Silvair replies with a word you haven’t heard anyone speak before, “???”
You visibly brighten at the new word, and the expression on your face causes Mr. Silvair to let out a light chuckle before he crosses one of his legs over the other. You take a breath before telling him, “Okay. Thank you.” 
After another pause, you continue to speak, “So… One part object done, red part. Other parts hard – not finish.”
Mr. Silvair had been leaning forward in his chair, his elbow digging into his knee while his hand rested under his chin, holding his head up as he stared at you with an unwavering gaze. He always listened to you with rapt interest, and you would be lying if you said the constant attention didn’t make your heart stutter in your chest. However, he suddenly speaks, pointing to the pool of blood you had been gesturing toward moments before, “What you call that?”
“Huh?” You ask, pausing your story to look at him. Mr. Silvair doesn’t say anything else, though, giving you a moment to comprehend what he has asked you. You perk up when your brain finally registers what Mr. Silvair had said, replying to him happily, “Oh, that’s the color red. So, blood is typically red – blood red.” 
“R-ehd?” He echos, and the sound of his voice speaking a word that you were able to understand without having to flip through your mental dictionary had your breath hitching. It sounded so strange but so nice coming from his lips. 
“Yeah, red! Blood is red!” You say, sounding excited and oh-so happy. Mr. Silvair would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t find the look on your face and the tone of your voice endearing. Then, your expression shifts slightly as you lean forward in your chair, saying enthusiastically, “Oh my god – I just got an idea! Me teach you me language!”
“...You language?” Mr. Silvair asks after a moment, shifting in his seat slightly. 
“Yes! Me teach you!” You reply, gesturing to both him and you with your hands. Your mind remembers the way Mr. Silvair and Mr. Chopped helped you shortly after you first arrived, teaching you directions to walk, facial expressions, and more. They had helped you expand your knowledge of this world’s language, and they were probably responsible for your survival in so many of those early interactions. So, you smile at him as you say, “We same.”
He returns a smile, nodding his head and replying with a simple, “Okay.”
“Alright, so, let me think here…” You hum to yourself, leaning back in your chair and closing your eyes while you consider what you should start with. Body parts seemed to be the first thing that popped into your head, so that’s eventually what you decided to start with. Sitting up in the chair, you point toward your hand with the other, tapping a finger to your palm as you speak, “Okay, so, this is my hand – hand. Can you say hand?”
It was kind of cute, strangely enough, seeing Mr. Slivair take the time to repeat the word you spoke over and over in his mind, trying to match the movement of your mouth with his own. Your languages were quite different in sounds, syllables, and the like, so he was practicing what to say before actually speaking. After a few moments of contemplation, he replies, “...H-ah-nd.”
“Hey, that was pretty good! Not bad for your first try, Mr. Silvair, even if the pronunciation is a bit off.” You say with a wide smile, clapping your hands together as you applaud him on his efforts. He chuckles again, finding your way of teaching to be… sweet. 
Then, you speak again, once again grabbing his attention. You tap the pad of your finger under the skin of your eye, asking him, “Do you remember what this is called? I think I’ve told you before.”
Mr. Silvair is quicker in his response this time, having heard you ask him about his own eyes before as he smoothly says, “Eye.” 
“Yes! Good job!” You praise once more, giving him a thumbs up in response. Then, he stands up from his seat, walking over to you while his once-white lab coat flows behind him. You crane your head back to look up at him from where you were still sitting, a simple and stupid, “...Huh?” leaving your mouth. 
Mr. Silvair reaches a hand to your face, cupping your chin gently in his hand. You feel his thumb resting on your bottom lip, and he begins to move his finger back and forth along the slightly chapped flesh, tugging at it slightly. He tilts his head to the side, asking you seriously, “What this called?”
“Oh, uh…” You know your face is probably flushed beyond belief at this point if the heat cascading through your head is anything to go by, and your mind and heart are completely caught off-guard by his sudden touch and question. You avert your gaze to the side, swallowing harshly before you finally reply, “They’re my lips – they’re, umm… similar to mouth. Lips, mouth, same.”
“...Lips?” Mr. Silvair asks again for clarification, his voice having an almost husky tone to it that has a shiver travel down your spine. 
You nod in response, muttering a barely audible, “Yes…” 
Mr. Silvair hums at your response, a small smile gracing his lips. He leans down, face so close to yours, before he inquires with an almost teasing tone to his voice, “You want touch?”
“Y-Yes.” You answer at an almost embarrassingly fast speed. 
The man who you had grown so fond of chuckles at your enthusiasm before leaning forward, pressing his lips softly to yours while he holds your face between his palms. Kisses weren’t a common thing between the two of you, and they were really only something Mr. Silvair initiated when he felt like it. You could feel the intensity at which your heart was beasting due to his sudden affections, and there was a part of you that was worried it would burst out of your chest right then and there. 
Your eyes flutter shut and you tilt your head to the side, your hands coming up to rest atop his – his hands that were holding your cheeks so, so gently. It was almost sickening the way he was holding you like you could break at any moment. 
Then, almost as quickly as it began, the kiss ended before you even realized it did. Mr. Silvair’s forehead was now pressed against yours, and he doesn’t make any move to remove his hands from your face. Your lips were no longer touching, and yet he still lingered.  
Mr. Silvair didn’t play fair, you thought, yet you couldn’t help but wonder why he wanted to kiss you so suddenly, so randomly. You close your eyes and your brows furrow at the tightening in your throat, an aching sensation slowly spreading throughout your chest like a disease before you whisper, “...I love you.”
There’s a silence, a stretch of nothingness before Mr. Silvair suddenly asks you, his voice just as soft as yours had been, “Repeat?”
“...No,” Your response is nearly immediate, and you shake your head before repeating once more, “Nothing.”
“...I love you.” The sound of those three words leaving his lips nearly causes your mind to implode. It sounded so sweet, yet it also felt worse than any suffering you had experienced before. The searing and excruciating pain, the feeling of a blade digging itself into the flesh of your torso couldn’t compare to the deep-seated torment you felt right now.
Mr. Silvair hums, tilting his head to the side as his thumbs continue to caress your cheeks, “What mean?”
You knew there was no point, no reason to try and explain your feelings again, but you do. You still do, even though you know it’s pointless to try. You can’t bring yourself to look at him as you speak, finding the concrete floor more interesting, “Mean… mean me like you. Lot like.”
There’s a pause, a moment of contemplation before Mr. Silvair says, “...Not understand.”
“I know.” You reply, nodding your head once in response. 
“You know?” He asks you, sounding somewhat confused, a tone you very rarely heard from the man. Had he forgotten that moment that you couldn’t seem to forget, the memory that you continuously found replaying in your mind like a broken record? It wasn’t fair, you thought, that only you were forced to hold onto such a painful memory. 
“You communicate before.” You clarify, finally willing yourself to look at his face. Mr. Silvair’s expression was tight, his lips drawn into a flat line. 
You needed to get away, to just run from this moment in the hopes he would forget the whole exchange just as he apparently did the last one. You take your hands and grab his wrists, removing his palms from your face before you stand up from the chair. You refuse to look at him as you turn, heading to the door as you utter, “...I’m going to go for a walk, so I’ll be back later. Goodbye.”
Then, you feel something tug at the sleeve of your raincoat. It wasn’t strong, nothing that would actually stop you from moving, but your legs proceeded to hault at the small action. Mr. Silvair says, his tone not demanding in the slightest – if anything, it sounded like a plea as he speaks, “No exit.”
You take a deep breath and turn around to face him, asking in such a small voice that it even caught yourself off-guard, “...Why?”
“I want you here.” Mr. Silvair responds quickly, so quickly it seems to have taken both of you by surprise. The two of you stare at each other for a moment before he asks, finally releasing the material of your jacket from in between his fingers, “Stay… Will you stay?”
You once again find yourself wondering if Mr. Silvair was aware of the effect he had on you as a sigh leaves your mouth. You nod your head lightly and reply, “I will stay.”
“Good.” He says in response, a gentle smile on his face as he says for the second time, “I love you.”
You frown at him and shake your head, saying with a slight edge of frustration in your voice, “No speak. Not true.” 
“True… Believe true.” He says quickly, reaching out to once again place a hand against your cheek. You don’t move, don’t flinch away from his touch – you still relish the way he’s holding you like a fragile piece of glass. Mr. Silvair’s brows are furrowed ever so slightly as he mutters, “Confused.”
“You’re telling me… How do you think I feel?” You say with a huff, your hand holding into his as you find yourself nuzzling your nose into his palm. The painful feeling in your chest was still present, but it wasn’t nearly as excruciating as it had been now. You find it in yourself to smile, gazing up at him as you speak, “...but we’ll get through it together – we together. Right?”
“To-geh-ther…” He repeats, leaning down to press his forehead to yours once more as he says softly, “Yes.”
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jjonglemons · 3 days ago
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all my works can be found here
Don't Speak
part two
song for chapter link - this story is based on a dream i had the other night. i decided to make it into two parts!
Summary: you’ve been friends with mingi for a while now. finally, you’ve confessed your feelings and it seems like he feels the same… but not without complications.
WC: 2.5k
Tags: smut, fratboy!mingi, fem!reader, drinking, partying, praise, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, fingering, oral, squirting
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“Hongjoong, could you come zip my dress up, please?” you groaned, arms aching from your attempt to stretch them around your back to do it yourself.
Soon enough, Hongjoong was standing behind you, allowing your arms to rest. “There.” He said, pulling up the zipper. 
“Thank you.” You turned around and patted his arm affectionately.
It was Mingi’s, one of Hongjoong’s frat brothers, birthday. For once, he didn’t want to have a lavish party; he just wanted a small dinner and to hit the club afterwards. He and Hongjoong were very close, and knowing how close you two were, the invitation was naturally extended to you, as well. In fact, Mingi had grown to like you, having gotten to know more about you a bit from the times you’d interact with him when coming over to their house to see Hongjoong. 
“We should get going,” Hongjoong announced, “Mingi just texted me and said everyone else is there already.”
Showing up fashionably late was not your thing. Frankly, you were an early arrivee in most cases, and it’d bother you to be late. However, this time you didn’t mind so much. You noticed Mingi’s eyes on you the moment you stepped foot into the restaurant, preventing any possible annoyance to develop. Whilst everyone else casually greeted you and Hongjoong before going back to their conversations, Mingi continued to scan up and down your frame. The way your dress hugged every inch of your curves, the way your silver jewellery glistened in the warm lighting of the restaurant, the way your dark curls touched the tip of your nipples poking through your dress, the way your smile became an extra lamp in the room. Mingi could go on and on in his head about how felt about you. He’d be pleased to hear you did the same about him, but his feelings were unbeknownst to you and vice versa. Who knew how long it would be until you let him know how you felt?
“Good to see you, Hongjoong, Y/N,” Mingi nodded in your direction, being careful to move his eyes between you and Hongjoong in hopes neither of you would notice his stares, “thank you for coming.”
“Thanks for having us,” you smiled, sitting down in the seat across from him at the table. 
The dinner moved along joyously, everyone socialising and filling the restaurant with curious chatter. Occasionally, someone would get a bit too loud, causing others in the restaurant to glance over at the table with slight annoyance. But nonetheless, it didn’t seem to become too disruptive. 
You were careful not to drink too much, because you wanted your drunk feelings to be more prominent at the club later. The club which you were going to made the best gin and tonics, too. Despite only having a shot, though, you were feeling a bit giddy. You weren’t necessarily a light weight, but you weren’t a heavy weight, either. You eyed Mingi across the table as he chatted with Yeosang beside him. You watched the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed. God, he had such a beautiful laugh. You closed your eyes for a moment to just focus on his deep voice as he continued to talk about whatever topic it was; you weren’t really paying much attention past the tone of him speaking. When you opened them again, you found Mingi peering back at you, a small smirk playing at his lips. You blushed as you watched him pick up his shot glass, subtly tilt it in your direction, then down the clear liquid. Beginning to feel hot, you couldn’t help but think about dancing with him later. Your bodies pressed against each other, hearts pounding in sync with the music, his breath falling down the sides of your neck. You took another shot, and you were already starting to feel more courageous, so perhaps tonight would be the night you confessed to him.
Around 10 PM, after a two hour long dinner, you had finally made it to the club. It was crowded, more than you expected it to be for a Friday night in the summertime; there were always less students around this time of year.
Hongjoong stood beside you at the bar, taking a sip from his tequila sunrise. “I’ll catch you later, I’m going to talk with San and Seonghwa for a while,” he said, glancing behind you, “you good?”
Whatever Hongjoong was staring at behind you moved and was now in front of you. It was Mingi. “Yeah, all good,” you smiled. Hongjoong was never one to leave you alone in a club, so when he saw Mingi approaching, he took it as an opportunity to not only bond with his brothers more, but give you and Mingi some time with just the two of you. He knew of your feelings for one another, which was to be expected, but he certainly wasn’t going to be the one to spill the secret. 
“Having fun?” Mingi sang, leaning against the bar on his elbows. When he did this, he purposefully made sure it was a bit closer to you.
“I am,” you admitted, sipping at your cocktail, “are you?”
“For the most part, yeah,” he said honestly, “I think I’m getting a little peopled-out at this point, though.”
You laughed. “Then why are you talking to me, hm?”
“You’re an exception.” He waved the bartender over to order a drink. “Rum and coke, please.”
“It’s on me,” you inserted, sliding a ten to the bartender, “keep the change.”
“You didn’t have to pay,” Mingi blushed, now plopping himself in the bar stool beside you so he was more level with you.
“Don’t mention it,” you said, “it’s your birthday, after all.”
The bartender returned quickly with the drink, Mingi politely nodding and muttering a thank you to him. He turned to you as he took a sip, “Well, I appreciate it. Thank you for coming, really.”
“I wouldn’t miss it.”
There was comfortable silence that fell over the two of you as you quietly enjoyed your drinks together. Heat radiated between your shoulders that were mere millimetres apart from touching. After a few moments, Mingi leaned in closer towards you so his lips were now hovering over your ear. 
“Let’s dance a bit, yeah?” He whispered.
You allowed yourself to fall into his touch, his hand gently guiding you through the crowd of people. He placed his hands on your hips and pulled you closer to him so that your bodies were flush against one another. You could feel him getting harder through his pants, and it only made you want to tease him more. Smirking, you turned your body so your ass was against him, beginning to sway slowly and seductively to the music. You heard a groan from him, chuckling quietly to pretend you didn’t hear anything. As time went by, you felt his grip on you become stronger, and his hunger growing. You weren’t far behind. 
He leaned over and whispered, “Do you want to get out of here?”
You squirmed within his arms, his deep cadence sending shockwaves through your body. You took a few moments before answering, but you felt a sudden rush of confidence and impulse to be completely blunt. “Mingi,” you started, turning to face him, “I just need you to know that I like you, and I absolutely want to get the fuck out of here with you right now and you know what else?”
“What’s that?” Mingi responded slyly. He could sense where this was going.
“I want to fuck.”
Mingi was a bit surprised by your straightforwardness, but soon darkened his eyes at your confession. Biting his lip, he pulled you even closer, closing any remaining gap between the two of you, “Seems like you just read my mind,” he chuckled before kissing you.
The taxi ride home was a blur as the two of you were completely distracted by one another, making out in the backseat much to the driver’s dismay. At least you kept it quiet. Once you arrived at the house, it didn’t take long before Mingi had you pressed up against the front door after stumbling inside, tongue prodding open your lips and slipping it across your teeth. Since everyone else was still at the club, you had the entire house to yourselves.
“Where do you want it?” Mingi asked between kisses, “we have so many options.”
You giggled as you bit down on his lip, a moan erupting from him. “I think the kitchen would be fun, then your bedroom.”
“I like the sound of that,” he growled before picking you up and carrying you into the kitchen. You kept your legs wrapped around his waist and hands around the nape of his neck as he placed you down on the countertop. He moved his lips to your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin as you wriggled beneath him in pleasure. “Mingi,” you exhaled, dropping your arms to his back to dig your nails into him.
“I love it when you say my name like that,” he groaned, “but I need to hear it louder.”
You inhaled sharply as you felt his hands slip under your dress, pushing aside your panties so he could reach your clit. He began to make small circles, teasing the entrance every now and then to get you wetter.
“Fuck,” you yelped, feeling one of his fingers enter you. Your breath was heavy, soft moans dripping from your lips as he added a second finger, then a third.
“Say my name again, baby girl,” Mingi growled, pressing against your g-spot, “get loud for me.”
“Mingi!” you screamed, allowing yourself to move closer to your peak. “F-fuck,” you stuttered, feeling unable to hold back anymore. With one final pump of Mingi’s fingers, you felt yourself unravel, your orgasm spilling out onto his hands. He knelt down to drink you up, lightly kissing your sensitive nub and the surrounding area as he did. 
You were shaking the entire trip from the kitchen up to his bedroom, causing him to chuckle at the sight of your pleasure and feeling you convulse in his arms. Once he laid you down on the bed, he gently helped you remove your clothing and you did the same for him. You stared at him in awe as his bare body came into view. You’d been dreaming of this moment for months now, and you couldn’t believe it was finally happening.
“Are you ready for me, baby?” Mingi asked softly, crawling above you to align himself with your entrance. Biting your lip, you nodded. You let out an elongated moan as Mingi sank into you, he himself humming in ecstasy. “You’re so tight, fuck!”
“No need to go easy on me,” you mewled, eyes rolling from the feeling of his hard cock brushing against every inch of your walls. 
Mingi laughed on tempo with a hard thrust, a scream escaping you. “Be patient, we’ll get there.” You couldn’t help but just allow yourself to scream and cry without a break. Feeling him fill you entirely sent electricity through your body, the pleasure becoming nearly unbearable. “You’re doing so well for me, baby,” Mingi pounded into you, voice cracking with a moan, “letting me fill your pussy like this.” You gripped his hair and pulled hard, a loud cry spilling from your mouth as he began to pick up his pace. He could feel your arousal growing, the squelches of your slick and the slaps of his pelvis against yours filling up the room. “I’m going to come, s-shit,” he stuttered, eyes rolling back as he began to drop himself onto you, losing his balance from his incoming orgasm. He growled loudly, waiting until the last possible second to pull himself out and spread his white ribbons all over your stomach.
You managed to fit your hand between the small gap of his hips and yours, circling your clit as you watched him come on you. You bite your lip and moaned as you felt his hot seed on your stomach, reaching another orgasm. Mingi quickly gathered enough strength to drop himself to your dripping cunt once again so you could come in his mouth again. You cried when he replaced your fingers with his, pushing his tongue into your seeping hole.
“G-god, Mingi!” You yelled, gripping the sheets so tightly that your knuckles started to turn purple, “I’m so sensitive.”
“Come again for me,” Mingi demanded, “be a good girl for me, hmm?”
“I-I don’t know-”
“Come. For. Me.”
You thrashed your body at the feeling of his tongue pressing against your g-spot whilst his fingers played with your throbbing clit. “FUCK!” You screamed again, shaking continuously at the intensity of your third orgasm. 
“That’s it,” you heard Mingi chuckle, “that’s my girl.” Mingi slowly moved himself over to the side of you, allowing you to come down from your high before pulling you closer to him for cuddling. “You did such a good job for me,” he cooed, kissing your cheek before nuzzling his head into your shoulder. 
“Mmmm,” you hummed, completely fucked out. You allowed yourself to slip into sleep in his arms.
When you awoke the next morning, Mingi was nowhere to be found. You couldn’t deny you felt hurt by this, but before you would come to any conclusions, you’d search around the house first. Once you were dressed, you made your way around the house, asking his brothers if they had seen you if it wasn’t a place you were able to check yourself.
“Sorry, love,” Hongjoong frowned, patting your head, “I’m not sure where he is.”
Your heart sank. It’s happening again, you thought, remembering all of the times in the past you’d been left alone after sleeping with someone. You knew Mingi had a bit of a reputation, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as some people made it out to be. You knew enough about him to know he wasn’t as much of an asshole like people said he was. Though, now you were starting to question that…
You decided to text him, hoping for some sort of answer.
You: i didn’t see you when you woke up. the boys said they haven’t, either. where are you? are you ok?
When you didn’t receive a response for nearly three hours, you decided to check to see if he had even read it yet.
Read at 10:24. That was only ten minutes after you sent the message.
You tried not to worry. Maybe he opened it then had to go do something? You tried to reason with yourself. But it was no use, your anxiety had kicked in. What the fuck?
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