#but that's because I have a line I desperately want to use at some point

[norikuna]

PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE ! ★ gojo satoru

prologue ⋆ ★ your boyfriend, gojo satoru, told you that he was gonna' stay behind in japan, he had to go to work and all — he's a high school teacher, you see. so what's he doing sneaking behind the red carpet, looking all suspiciously rumpled and mussed? oh hell no.

pairing ⋆ ★ gojo satoru x reader genre tags & warnings ⋆ ★ afab!reader, jujutsu canon, celebrity!reader, misunderstandings and mild angst, reader doesn't know about jujutsu, makeup séx, máting préss, cérvix kissing, brééding kink :D

word count ⋆ ★ 5.7k! a/n ⋆ ★ because i've always wanted gojo to be on the red carpet...yasss watched the grammys <3 smth silly, short and sweet i whipped up 😁

THE HOTTEST STAR OF THE YEAR RUSHES FROM RED CARPET, WHY? STAY TUNED FOR MORE.

saint laurent heels beat staccato taps into the worn brick, graff crystals dangling from your adorned wrist as you shove your brightly lit phone into your boyfriend's face, "what the hell, satoru?" the offending headline glaring right back at him from your screen.

gojo, for his part, just shoves his hands into his navy slacks, rolling his shoulders back in that deliciously snug ice-blue cotton dress shirt, sleeves pushed up to reveal thick forearms dusted with pale hair. you curse how your gaze dips, resolve cracking, and glossy lips pursed.

strange, how he he looks nothing short of absolutely roughed up, soft fabric crumpled, and sunglasses tilted askew. white hair mussed as though someone took to running their hands through snowy locks, huh.

"hi, baby. happy to see me?"

oh, he's trying to be charming. cute. gojo's grinning, lips parting over sharp teeth, acting as though he totally hadn't been lurking behind rows of insistent paparazzi practically hurdling themselves around the red carpet stairs.

and despite better judgement and little regard for desperate tabloids springing up, you'd pushed past security, past cries of your name, to chase after your boyfriend, who had just texted you an hour ago at most. about how work was going so great.

"you better have a really, really good explanation for this."

to his credit, gojo has the decent sense to look mildly ashamed. pale blue eyes narrow beneath tinted lenses, and he's faintly chewing on the inside of his cheek, "d'you want the long version or the short version? because you gotta' believe me, baby, hear me out –"

something's buzzing, faintly pulsing to the beat of not like us, it's gojo's phone. and he's fumbling through the deep pockets of his slacks. you furiously snap your eyes away from how well they fit, that's so not the point right now, ugh!

"your side chick, hmm?"

gojo looks vaguely offended, rolling his eyes skywards as he unlocks his phone, "hey, we got some attitude today, pretty. why's that?"

you cross your arms over oscar de la renta, sheer panels stitched to mimic stained glass, bless your stylist, truly. "we got some attitude 'cause my boyfriend told me he was busy with work, and had to teach class. dropped me off at the airport, even."

gojo sighs, teeth kissing his tongue as he clicks, "i am working, believe me. and — oh."

you crunch your heel into the gravel, loose stones that line this back passage behind the carpet and the theatre, "what's oh? 'toru?"

"promise not to get mad?" gojo's murmuring, tilting his dim phone screen around. it's a screenshot of a headline, barely a minute old. the photo? you, here, right now. wagging a stern finger at gojo, who's throwing his hands up in disbelief.

STAR FLEES RED CARPET TO RENDEZVOUS WITH MYSTERY MAN? BOYFRIEND, OR SOMETHING MORE?

the tagline follows, some blithe words about how you're prioritising a man in the shadows, over a shining career? over a golden gramophone clutched in your hand, lights sparkling your name on stage. you hiss at the ridiculous amount of shares and comments already, "oh, come on."

"we're so screwed, baby," gojo sighs, rubbing his temple, swiping away at a quick notification from stoic lookin' blonde who doesn't even crack a smile in his profile photo, kento? huh, you've never met a kento.

you sigh, feeling the headache oncoming at the mere thought of your manager furiously scouring the theatre for you, "we?"

gojo scowls, shoving his phone away, "hey, i have people to answer to as well. last thing i need is a public image."

what an odd sentiment, you privately wonder. gojo is wealthy, stupidly so. you're certain of that. something about old money, his family stretches back generations on some beautiful estate. but he's a high school teacher. you've seen him grade quizzes, seen blurry photos of students in dark jackets and neatly pressed uniforms. a private school on the outskirts of tokyo, sure, but public image?

"since when do high school teachers care about their pr?"

gojo flexes his hands, and your eyes drop. slender fingers that you know like the back of your own hand, fingers you've traced absentmindedly when he's sprawled across your couch, fingers that have curled into the dip of your waist in the quiet hours of the night. long, pale, too elegant for someone as brash as him, tensing now as though he's bracing for impact. he's hesitating, weird, because gojo satoru never hesitates.

well, maybe once. the first time he asked you out, flushed and nigh tripping over himself, looking so damn adorable that you had stomped your loubitons, and said 'yes' just so you could kiss him.

"i need to tell you something, baby."

something cold slides down your spine, and it has nothing to do with the evening chill. the air shifts, thickens, pressing against your skin in a way that makes your pulse gallop. you swallow, tongue suddenly heavy in your mouth at how gojo looks unsettled.

that's what gets you. he's never like this. not even that one time months ago when you caught him unwrapping white bandages from his eyes, headache, he had muttered, fingers gripping some torn, stained bundle of purple and green silk. he had crashed out on your cosmos couch minutes later, surly and morose for the days that followed.

your mind races. his family, it has to be his family. the old-money, aristocratic gojo family, the family that he's never introduced you too. they probably think actresses and pop stars are meant to be ogled at from afar, hardly worthy material to bring home to the estate. your stomach churns, for is that why he showed up here, rumpled and tense, instead of waiting until you got home? is this it, ending things?

your heart's hammering, and you hate this, hate it so bad. how how much you want to cling to him, to stop whatever he's about to say from slipping past his candy-pink lips.

"i'm a sorcerer."

there's a sharp, stabbing pain right behind your eyes.

and you're blinking, slowly, mind whirring. then you laugh, loud. sharp, and far too high-pitched, "god, this is why i love you. you're funny, 'toru. i can't believe you actually had me worried and shit, like –"

"i'm being serious, baby." and that's the thing, isn't it? he seems so, like he believes every word coming out of his mouth. his hands, big and warm, close around yours, and there's something in the way that he clasps you, as though he's pleading, and it makes you freeze.

"swear i would never string you along in something like this," gojo murmurs, "i know it's a lot, but seriously, you can ask me anything. anything, and i'll try to answer. and i wasn't ever sure how i was gonna' tell you, but promise i was waiting for the right time and –"

your boyfriend, bless his beautiful face and questionable judgement, and golden heart, has lost his goddamn mind.

your fingers tighten around his, feeling the scrape of faint callouses and scars, "okay, c'mon. now this is getting a little weird."

"you don't believe me?" and gojo looks, god, he looks devastated. long, white lashes fluttering against icy eyes, earnest in a way that makes your stomach twist.

"babe, you said sorcerer right? like...magic? big pointy hats, and all that shit?"

gojo just nods, a faint flush colouring his cheeks, "jujutsu sorcerer. it's real, like, y'know shoko? remember when we met her at that bar downtown, we went to school together. she can back me up, or –, or, i can take you to the school, or introduce you to –"

"okay, okay!" you pull your hands away, feeling your breath hitch as your pulse pounds in your ears, "satoru, stop. seriously. i don't know what you're trying to do here, but it's really startin' to freak me out."

gojo's jaw tightens, the beautiful and haunting lines of his face hardening. something raw, and something sharp flickers through his eyes, "you think i'm fuckin' with you?" there's something brittle in the low control of his tone, "you think i'd joke about this?

you throw your hands up, bejewelled bvlgari sliding down your digits, "yes, satoru! you joke about everything, sometimes." your heart is erratic now, bile sitting in the back of your throat, "what the fuck are you even sayin', like, magic? that you really want me to believe that you're a wizard?"

"not a wizard, sorcerer."

"oh, my bad," you bite out, lips snapping around disbelieving words, "that just makes so much more sense."

gojo's eyes flare, and he's pressing a thumb and forefinger against the bridge of his defined nose, as though he can feel another one of his migraines creeping up, "god, can you just, — can you just listen to me for once?"

"listen to you?" you laugh, but it's far more of a disbelieving scoff, "listen to yourself, please. satoru, we're halfway across the world right now. i could put my career, my entire future, on hold because i really do love you. and now you're telling me that you — what? fight demons in your free time?"

"curses," gojo mutters, rolling big, blue eyes, as though it makes much of a difference to you.

"oh my god."

gojo's looking at you as though he doesn't even recognise you, like he expected something different, as though you're the one making this hard. his throat is bobbing, adam's apple shifting, and you can see his hands pinch at his sides, "knew you wouldn't believe me," he's muttering, shaking his head of tousled, white hair, "this was jus' stupid, no wonder i never tried this whole time."

"they why do it now?" you throw the words at him, suddenly furious and hurting, because you don't understand why he's pulling this on you, now. "why? like, go on, show me something, then, 'toru! or otherwise this is some insane, insane shit, i can't even – i don't know what you want me to do."

gojo's mouth opens, and then closes. his shoulders droop just slightly, and for a moment, just a brief and flickering moment, he looks far more tired than his twenty-eight years. but a split second passes, and he's exhaling, just stepping back.

"forget it," gojo snaps, voice clipped, "this was a mistake. i got real shit to do, talk to y'afterwards." he's turning, stalking off and pulling his sunglasses away from his face (he rarely does that), as though you're the one that's let him down.

what the fuck? the tell-tale click of a camera rings your ears, followed by a bright flash. great. you need a drink, stat.

you shouldn't do this. you know you shouldn't do this. and yet, here you are, gripping at gojo's sleek phone, left with you when he disappeared to fuck knows where.

your fingers twitch around the case, like you should just chuck it across the hotel suite and be done with this whole thing. but you don't, you just sit there. the silence pressing in too thick, your manager's tired voice still rattling in your skull.

yes. you have a boyfriend. yes, he showed up tonight. yes, you still love him, even if he's lost his marbles.

you keep that last part to yourself, thumb hesitating over your own phone, resisting the urge to doom scroll your way into some clarity. as though your snark reddit thread is going to have some answers for this mess.

the oscar de la renta is long gone, carefully pried off and zipped away into a smooth, dark bag — leaving you in a slinky ysl number, straight from their summer runway, drumming your fingers along the bejewelled hem as diamonds still glint at your ears. and gojo? nowhere to be found.

you exhale sharply, rolling his phone between your palms before pressing the screen to life. you shouldn't, you never do this. in two years, you've never once felt the need to snoop, nor pry, to check if he was lyin' about anything, because he never gave you a reason to.

but here you are, thumbing in the passcode anyway. it's your birthday, fuck. of course it is. you're staring at the unlocked screen, suddenly still, what the hell are you even looking for? if this was some elaborate joke, some ruse, what would you find? some notes app plan to send you spiralling? but it was the way that gojo satoru had looked, as though he had truly been hurt, and it hadn't seem false at all.

your thumb hesitates, tapping onto the messages. skimming past familiar names, shoko (right, yep), that kento, and something from an okkotsu with a smiling emoticon next to it. your stomach churns at the intrusion, but your curiosity (and desire to break free of the doghouse) presses harder. you press at a read bubble.

yaga we think it's a special grade. could possess a domain. gojo exorcised it. 👍

you're peering at the timestamp, thirty mere minutes before you had torn away from the red carpet, demanding to know why the hell he looked as though he lost the fight with an angry gnome, as though he'd wrestled a ghost in the back alley.

your mouth goes bone dry, 'exorcised.' this clearly isn't a joke, it's far too intricate, too deeply woven into gojo's life for it to be some elaborate prank. you feel vaguely ill, swiping through emails, some from a guy named ijichi, reports full of the kind of gory details you'd expect from a crime documentary. terms like domain expansion, cursed energy and a special grade blur together as you flip onto your side, heels still dangling off the bed, skirt hem riding up.

then, by pure accident, you tap into his camera roll. oh, there's so much of you. soft candid shots, like you laughing into a martini. you, asleep in the passenger seat of his car, caught mid-bite into a croissant that time he took you to paris. a dumb, fond smile tugs at your sparkling lips despite yourself, but then you swipe and —

a video. you press play, praying to the heavens above that there's no mortal punishment for being a nosy ass.

gojo, in that sleek, grey suit that you so adore. he seems to be at some restaurant, on a cruise ship, perhaps? demolishing a banana split with the kind of enthusiasm that most men reserve for their wedding night.

next to him, a pale and dark-haired boy is watching in resigned horror, while the bleary, unfocused lens swivels to a group of more, unfamiliar teenagers. they're all dressed in some form of black-tie wear, rambling about completed missions and gojo-sensei.

sensei, you frown, feeling a thick lump in your throat. they must be his students, the ones from his classes, and the way they're talking to him, laughing and giggling? he's so, so loved. fuck, what had you been missing?

the camera lingers on a girl with a sharp sway of auburn hair, propped with her elbows on the table, in a frilly black dress. there's a pink-haired kid nudging her as she snaps her fingers, something glinting on the table.

nails, like those you'd see at some hardware store. nails that move, without her even touching them once. your stomach twists, and you rewind. once. twice. ten times. watching, staring, trying to catch at how the metal swivels without even brushed against.

sorcery. gojo had said to your face, and you had scoffed. tch', you snap the phone shut and shove it on the soft sheets, something ugly clawing at your throat. nausea, guilt. some form of shame, and exasperation with the man you love for not telling you this earlier.

you fiddle with the diamond hanging from your ear, forlornly glancing at the heavy door, for you want gojo. to say that you're sorry, to say that you're furious he didn't explain this better, to say that you love him, that you want him to be alright, that you need him, that you want —

slam!

the door swings open, no keycard, and no knock. and you near damn jump out of your skin, a rush of heat and cold spiking through you all at once. crawling over your bare arms, legs still glossed and smoothed underneath your little dress.

gojo. gojo, standing there, looking undone. ruffled, and heaving as he drinks the sight of you in. those ever-present sunglasses, those tinted shades that he so favours are gone. and when his eyes flick up to you, you suck in a breath so sharp that it scrapes at your throat.

they glow, electric blue, almost too vibrant to be real, like something pulled straight out of a vivid imagination.

"satoru," you manage, voice pattering away at how his head snaps up at the sound of your voice, catching the way his lips part, something frayed and desperate twisting his expression. the fine cotton of his shirt is streaked with red, and there's a smear of that same crimson shade reaching up his left cheek, stretching up to his ear. like a painter who got impatient with a brush.

"baby," gojo exhales, voice thick, as though he's been holding this in all night, moving towards you, steady, "i shoulda' told you, told you more. need you to believe me, but –"

you press a manicured finger against his lips, "i believe you. satoru, i really do. i'm so sorry, i had no idea and — wait, whose blood is this?"

gojo shudders under your touch, just the slightest tremour, eyes blown wide, "not who," lashes fluttering lower, leaning against you, "what. and it doesn't matter much now."

your boyfriend's searching your face, looking for something, something more intimate, desparate in your expression. his brows pulled together, and mouth parting into a soft oh! when he sees a mirror reflection of his own want.

and then, he's kissing you, and you're kissing him. whining desperately into the press of his lips, suddenly hot for the urge to pull your legs right against that thick bulge that jostles at your thigh. to lean more into the wandering hands that tug at the hem of season ysl.

you're gasping, not protesting as thick hands pull at your thighs. laying you flat against the bed, the finest suite that this hotel has to offer. away from prying eyes, and nosy reporters hoping to catch the who's who of your bedmates. or rather, the singular love of your life.

gojo's chuckling at your expression, "don't worry, baby. won't ruin yer' pretty dress," lips curled into a slow smile, burning a determined path down the arch of your neck, past the low dip of your neckline over your breasts, "want me, baby? wan' this?"

"so bad," you murmur, just giggling as gojo groans, pulling you up so you're splayed out for him, balanced across his thighs. the very tip of your heels digging into his back as you cross your legs to pull him closer, "m'boyfriend's so hot."

gojo whines into your chest, laving blossoming bruises over the skin that you know will give the makeup artists a field day, and it's obvious how needy he is. thick curve of his bulge pressing right up against your core, rutting his hips for some friction as he showers you in attention, worshipping your form. lips coming back to press into yours, laving at your mouth.

"hah, 'toru!" you yelp, adjusting the silky, beaded neckline, "easy on the d-dress. fuck, can't explain that to my s-stylist when you –" you're mewling, your words getting lost in the heat of gojo's panting mouth.

"what'dya take me for, baby?" gojo hums, slick strands clinging to his dewy lips, running broad hands over your waist, "but i gotta' show my girl," and here, he's patting lower over your hips, "some lovin', and some care, heh."

gojo truly fears he may be obsessed with you, just as much as the rest of the world is. but he, well, he's the only one who gets to see you like this, the flesh of your thighs splayed out underneath the hem that's ridden up of that gorgeous number you've got on. throwing your head back for him, just him.

he's sighing, prettily, tapping at your cheek with loving fingers, "can fuck ya' here, right? gonna' do it so good, show y'some other things you've been missin' out on."

you tilt your head, "you already fuck me that good, 'toru." feeling him groan, racking his bulge up against you once more, "never made me miss out on a, hah, a d-damn thing."

gojo looks ravenous, eyes still wide, white lashes framing the pools of vibrant, electric blue, "told ya' about jujutsu, didn't i?" pressing a filthy kiss to your lips once more, "well, heh, just you wait. can use it for plentyyy other things, baby."

your dress is being pushed up, the soft fabric giving little resistance as gojo presses the rough pads of his fingers into your hips. haute couture giving way for gojo to touch as much of you as he can.

"baby," he's whining, jaw slack as he slides a finger over the crevice of your thighs, "prettiest fuckin' thing i've ever seen. love you so bad, it hurts. it really, really does." and how could you not love him back, gojo who's peering at you with dilated, adoring eyes?

"just gonna, yeah, put ya' down there. don't gotta' do much, just lay there, pretty." gojo's pressing you down slowly, gently. further into the mattress, as he slots himself right at the apex of your thighs. slapping at your fingers when you reach for the straps of your heels, "don't," he whines, petulant, "it looks hot. might hafta' get you another pair," bestowing another sweet kiss upon your waiting, swollen lips when you scoff.

"satoru," you purr, carding your polished nails over the man's scalp, threading your fingers through soft, white strands. relishing in how his throat bobs, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling, "said you had some jujutsu, that's the word, right? something to show me? well?"

whatever paper thin resolve had been holding gojo satoru cracks, snapping away as gojo's eyes harden, hand pulling at the bands of your thin, sheer panties. ones clearly meant to flirt, and tease.

the lace waistband gives way with a gutting, sopping tear. and gojo's grinning, wide so sharp canines poke out from underneath cherry lips, rolling the ball of torn fabric up and tucking them away into his pockets, snickering as though he's won his prize, "s-soaked, already?"

you fight the furious blush that colours your cheeks when gojo whistles, low and impressed, laying himself flat on his stomach so your heels are swinging over his shoulders, resting against his back, as he takes in the brazen sight of your swollen folds throbbing, "pretty pussy's always so wet for me, heh." watching clear slick gather from your mound to your entrance, sliding his index finger along your slit, "wanna' taste you, baby."

you know there's little else on this earth that brings as much pleasure as gojo's eager mouth, the way he becomes truly ravenous when he's in between your legs — thighs hooked over his frame. how he always knows the right spots to press his mouth to, where to flatten his tongue against your slick. but now? right now, you want him in you. mouth lolling at the idea of his thick inches stuffin' you so, so full.

gojo latches onto your silence, resting his soft head of white hair against your thigh, batting long lashes up at you from underneath his lidded gaze, "or does my pretty girl want somethin' else, mhm?" the corners of his soft, pink lips quirking upwards in the ghost of a knowing smile.

it's hard to form a decent response when his slender middle finger is teasing over your glimmering slit, making you keen at the slick pop! of your arousal ringing in your ears, "s-satoru! think you, hahh, know what i want, please."

you're not above begging, certainly not when gojo's grinning, as pleased as the cat who got the cream. looming up to unbuckle his fine, leather belt, and hissing when his own hand provides just enough fiction to make his ears blush a hot, deep crimson.

you never, ever grow tired of this sight. the pale flush on gojo's neck trailing down, down further past sinous muscle and soft flesh. past the curl of white hairs on his groin, and to the long, thick curve of his cock that already looks as though it's throbbing.

"wait a sec', baby," gojo breathes, two gentle fingers pushing past your dripping folds to gather some of the translucent slick pooling onto the sheets beneath you. the wet smack! of his hand pumping your arousal over his cock like some lubricant, and the way he's releasing a sharp, serpentine sound at how filthy it all is.

he's teasing you, and it makes you groan. makes you writhe on the bed, desperately hoping that he has some form of mercy on you, bucking your cunt against his rounded, leaking tip that's sliding through your folds, "gonna' show ya' exactly how i hit bullseye each time, baby."

there's that luminous blue light, pulsing from gojo's irises (that you swear have reformed into feral, little hearts). it's a shade of blue so intense, it seems as though he's been carved from the sky itself.

"f-fuck," you whine, feeling the first inch of his thick shaft nudging past your swollen, aching folds, "hngh, 'toru, fuck, 's big." whimpering from the sheer pleasure as gojo chuckles, his warm palms resting on your thighs to swing your legs over his shoulders once more. pressing down into the meanest mating press that you can imagine.

glorious, hot inches rummaging past your gummy walls, exploring every crevice as you're certain his weeping tip must already be kissing that sensitive spot at your cervix, "babe, satoru, fillin' me so good already."

the nasty, acute angle at which he's got you folded is something out of your most lustful dreams, ones where gojo's panting just like he is now, already babbling, "always s'perfect for me, perfect fit, love you baby," that low rumble in gojo's chest quivering as he litters droopy kisses over your cheek, your neck and down your collarbone.

that purr falling from gojo's glossy lips getting louder with each surefire hit that he delivers against your sweet, rough spot, and had you been in a more coherent state, you would have been marvelling at how instantly your boyfriend had managed to hit the bullseye he promised, and you hear him faintly laugh, "called six eyes, baby. gonna' show you allll the ways i can use it, heh."

not able to stop the whimper when you feel the sticky smack of skin against your ass, slamming into you over and over again, "y'got two eyes, though?"

a damn near sob when he begins rolling his hips so sluttily, so he can truly swab at you with the most pleasurable sensation, laughing so pretty with a faint dimple creasing the corner of his mouth, "tch', so much to teach ya', baby. don't worry, we'll cover everything."

"hah, 'toru, satoru, babe," you squeal, the very tips of your manicured nails placing little perfect pricks onto the nape of gojo's flushed neck, "fuckin' me so damn' good." and you know how much your boyfriend likes to be praised, for he's flushing even more, whining as you lock your ankles in the air.

and the pace that he keeps up is nothing short of inhuman, tacking his groin against your sloppy clit until there's tears of relief pooling on your lashes. and it's not like you've ever been left dissatisfied with gojo satoru around, for from the very first night, he's been an expert at leaving you bleary eyed, and hazy with little cupid arrows dancing around your head.

but to be aware of all this, well, it's something different. there's that raw, searing blue gaze that you've never caught before, sending waves of raw pleasure down your spine.

each raspy groan drawn out of gojo is punctuated with the thick slap of his cock against your inner walls, that filthy mess of his pre and your arousal puddling beneath your hips and thighs so, so deliciously.

as though he's committing every inch of you to memory, his girthy shaft bullying fat inches, battering your guts with the most tingly, mind-numbing kisses ever, and he seems to be sipping at your lips, downing his favourite taste (or second favourite, he may claim with a cheeky grin). kissing at your neck, beneath the weight of diamonds that glitter at your flushed ears.

you're trying to shift under the weight pushing you down, parting your thighs to create more space so you can gasp, "h-here, 'toru, please. 'm so close, wanna' cum with you."

and how could gojo satoru not want to propose to you right then and there? visions running through his head, all of you. you, his wife, his love, and the idea of, fuck, little bundles with his white hair cradled in your arms. visions that he's heard you talk about fondly before. already dreaming of that opulent diamond band he saw in that window store front of some luxury flagship store.

and gojo doesn't even realise he's getting caught up in that lovesick haze. nimble fingers rolling over the hood of your throbbing clit, tight circles being traced over the sensitive bud. and how he relishes the sound of your wanton moans falling against his ear, you have to finish, he needs to see it.

six eyes kicking up into overdrive as he angles his aching cock just so, that ghostly, cobalt light finding the exact spot in your pretty, perfect cunt to make you whine and squeal, and gojo feels as though he may have just seen the pearly gates when you quiver, shaking in his hold as you release crashes down on you. you, you, you. falling apart so prettily for him, lashes fluttering shut as you squeeze your eyes, and there's that gorgeous glow that he so loves to admire.

"hah, ah, 'toru!" you dig into his back, feeling up the open dress shirt still hanging from him, "s-sensitive, babe. so, s-soo good, mmph!" moaning at the feeling of gojo bursting, filling you with thick ropes of pearly release, throbbing right at your very core. laughing fondly as he kisses you through his own release, gasping and groaning into your mouth, "baby, fuck, baby, love you sooo much." clearly reluctant to even pull out of you, but enamoured by the sight of viscous, creamy cum leaking of you, practically adoring the filthy sight.

"tsk', i got sloppy with my aim, pretty," gojo hisses, "didn't put it all in ya', wanna try again?"

you're tucked against gojo's chest, cheek pressed to that expensive cologne that always lingers on him. spicy, clean, with that faint undercurrent of something sweet. his hand is in your hair, raking through it, and he's laughing, laughing as he smooths down your dress, all so fond and unbothered as you scowl.

for you know that tomorrow, everyone's gonna' be demanding answers as to why that brand new little ysl looks as though you crawled through a hedge backwards. black silk all wrinkled, straps coming loose at your shoulders.

speaking of answers...

"satoru?" you murmur, lacing your fingers with his, and gojo just hums in acknowledge, slow and lazy as you sigh, "do you have a kid?"

your boyfriend's freezing, and you feel him stiffen beneath you as he pulls back to stare at you, "what — like a kid kid? like a mini-me?" pink, kiss-stung lips parted as he's blinking, as though he's missing to whatever you've caught on.

"yeah," you mumble, suddenly feeling a lil' silly about it, "i was just, y'know, looking at your phone. swear i wasn't being nosy on purpose, just wanted to see all that sorcerer shit you were talkin' about. and i think i saw something, like a legal doc' with a kid under your name." tapping your chin in thought, "ugh, what was it again? megumi?"

gojo's features shift, that flicker of 'oh shit' that makes you backtrack, "i don't mind, by the way," you blurt, hands up, "not mad or anythin', just, like, wanted to know. since you were tellin' me everything about you, and if you have like a secret child, or two –"

a beat, and then gojo laughs. you can feel the vibrations of the deep rumbles in his chest, that ridiculous cackle that makes your ribs shake against his chest. thick arms locking you tighter against him as he grins, "oh, baby," he's purring, "it's a long story. see, i met this fella' once, toji zenin, this was wayy back when i was in school, and he killed me –"

"what the fuck?"

"i have a lotta' stories like this, don't worry. i'll tell ya' whatever you wanna' know, hah."

[ilikepptandotherstuffs]

Here's something to possibly make y'all cry

Ok so imagine mommy long legs crying out for miss Claire for weeks on end and never getting an answer and always banging on her cage that she thought she would be in there forever and after being torchured for so long she turns angry and violent just like many before her she thinks there are no nice humans left and that no one will come to save her and accepts that this is what she will be stuck with for the rest of her life

Imagine catnap believing that the prototype will save them because the prototype gave him the tiniest glimmer of hope only to be met with what seems to be a cruel joke he probably thought of many ways to escape but never tried due to how cruel playtime co is he probably thought that the prototype was their only chance at freedom

Imagine dogday just staring at the wall giving up because he thinks that they all will be stuck in this hell forever that there was no hope the only bliss that they would get is that if there line of toys had no hope of selling or stopped selling for a long time they would be discontinued and they would be put down I bet all those nights in the cages he imagined of cuddling with his parents just once more

Imagine yarnaby being confused but knowing that being in a new body wasn't good Imagine his confusion when sawyer only came to vist him Imagine him missing those that cared even the tiniest (sawyer does change for the better on my au) Imagine him dreaming of seeing his parents the only source of comfort he thought he would ever get imagine him trying to yell out for someone he trusts yet his voice does not sound the same words are not coming out

Imagine huggy and kissy being so confused and scared and they have trouble picking things up and playtime co punishes them cruelly anyway imagine them huddling against each other for comfort knowing that they would be punished soon no longer being able to speak they have to find other ways to communicate

Imagine doey in his cage trying to keep his other poeple in his body quiet imagine the guilt he must of felt when he killed his parents imagine the confusion and how scared he would of been during the hour of joy imagine him trying to leave but understanding that their are smaller ones who are at more risk and are more scared then him he looks after them all while still wanting to desperately leave

Imagine miss delight missing her sisters but knowing it is to late to change there fate because they are already dead

An my au some toys grow up while some don't fir example the smiling critters mommy long legs and miss delight they are adults kissy missy and bunzo are children

Imagine bunzo just wanting to leave but never getting it and having to let the others try there best to look after it

Imagine pj just being confused on why it is being hurt

Anyway imagine how confused they are when angel doesn't hurt them or screams at them "why isn't the employee hurting us" or "no you worked for playtime co you are supposed to be cruel" imagine the toys being so afraid of touch to the point they roar or hiss and be violent because they are scared imagine the confusion when angel doesn't hurt them and Is gentle with them most would probably think it was a cruel joke imagine them slowly trusting angel and accepting that fate might not be so cruel after all

Me after thinking this (picture not mine)

[eulaliasims]

Veridia's hills sport many natural caves. Its residents have exploited some for iron and other ores, but high above the village is one where the edges of reality and the otherworld blur, marked by the gods as a sacred place by the pure white tree growing outside the entrance. Sims trek here to leave offerings to the underworld guides as well as to conduct rites and inter their dead within the cave's niches.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

just for tonight

a/n: sure, I was vigilantly working on a different wip (a very long one that needed a lot of strength to get through) but then this whole fantasy came to me and i just couldn't stop myself... at least i downgraded the idea from a full-fledged series (which i sadly very much do not have the time for) to just a slutty little one shot in an au that i can always pop back into whenever the itch pops up (or when anyone has a slutty request for it hehe).

summary: before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 

warnings: bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader, smut, reader's mom is the british ambassador to france, age gap (10-15 years), tattooed!bucky (both a metal arm and tattoos as picked in a poll by you), beefy!bucky, forbidden romance, posh political party, alcohol consumption, wet dream, lingerie, stockings, one night stand (except we already know those fools can't keep it to just one night), kissing, dirty talk, manhandling, size kink, oral, fingering, impact play, squirting, gaping, belly bulge, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie

word count: 4907

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“You sure, you don’t want some?” you squinted over at your bodyguard as you lowered the champagne flute from your lips, “this shit costs more than my dress, which is really saying something,” you pointed to the red silk gown that hung from your frame, “this is Dior.”

“I’m good, miss,” Bucky uttered, tight-lipped as always. 

“Right, sorry,” you sat the glass down at the tall table you stood beside, “can’t drink while on duty.”

Posh parties such as the one tonight were always a bit of a drag to get through. Even though you’d been hauled along for most of your life, they’d never gotten any more amusing. 

But when your mother hired Barnes to be your personal bodyguard a few months back, the thought of getting dolled up just to have a bunch of provoking politicians talk your ear off about ideas you’d never in a million years support, somehow didn’t seem as bad as it used to now that he was constantly at your side. 

It had been a little incident involving your phone getting hacked, an explicit video nearly getting leaked, one that had been made for an ex who lived in another country to make the distance more barrable, and a few threatening messages from the perpetrator that had been the reason for your new shadow. 

Though you’d been resistant at first, storming into your mother’s office to state that you were a grown woman and didn’t need a babysitter just because someone tried to exploit an old sex tape that in your opinion wasn’t even that big of a deal, swiftly got squashed when a then stranger cleared his throat behind you and shared the more gruelling threats that had been made alongside the hacking. 

You’d hoped and prayed that he’d turn out to be a pain, that his personality could squash the feelings that fluttered inside of you whenever you looked at him, but unfortunately, he wasn’t an asshole. He was quiet, professional to a fault, but he wasn’t a dick. If anything, all of the silence and all of the glances to always keep track of you made the crush worse. It made you feel as if you were in a Jane Austen novel, reading between the lines of subtext your unreliable brain came up with.

“You tired?” he asked as a yawn rolled out of you. 

“Mhm,” you hummed behind the palm you had brought up to your lips. 

“The car’s ready to take you back to the embassy whenever you are.” 

A grateful smile twitched at your lip as you offered him a small nod of confirmation, “I’ll just go tell my mom.”

The ambassador, your mother, had her back turned to you as she talked business with a small group of people even though the hour had grown late. 

You waited for a sliver of a break before you tapped her on the shoulder and whispered in her ear.

“Hey, mom?” her palm found yours as she turned to look at you, “I’m gonna head home.”

“Oh, alright,” she leaned in and pressed a small peck to your cheek, “see you tomorrow, love.”

“Bye,” you gave her hand one last squeeze before heading out of the elegant venue, your guard still only a few paces behind you. 

A dusty drizzle met your skin as you exited onto the midnight streets of Paris. The sensation made you want to walk home, though you still followed Bucky to the black car already waiting and slipped in when he opened the back door for you. 

The light from the city reflected on the back of his metal hand as it gripped the steering wheel. You could faintly spot the prominent veins on the other one dance beneath the inked skin as it did the same, tattoos you still ached to discover just how far they stretched beneath his dark suit. 

Though soon your gaze flickered away from his silhouette as he drove, and fluttered out to the glittering cityscape rolling by, the vision of which swiftly lulled you to sleep. 

When you arrived home, Bucky’s steely eyes found your slumbering form in the rear-view mirror. You didn’t rouse when he opened your door and carefully picked you up into his arms. You didn’t wake either as he carried you inside, all the way up to your bedroom, and layed you down on your bed. 

Gently, he removed your heels and quietly placed them down on the hardwood floor before he grabbed your duvet and tugged it over your form. 

But just as he moved to leave your side, half asleep you caught his hand.

“Don’t go…” you murmured hazily, eyes still shut. 

And so, he didn’t.

Bucky simply reached for the tufted chair nearby and, as silently as he could, scooted it closer to the bed. 

Barely an hour passed before you woke. 

Before you even blinked open your eyes, your fingers began to slide down your body as the sinful dream you’d been blessed with still lingered in your foggy brain. 

Though when your eyes did flutter open and discovered the star of the dream sitting in a chair right next to you, your hand halted its voyage, and you sucked in a startled breath. 

“You okay?” he asked softly as you blinked a few times. 

“Uh,” the throbbing that still lingered from the dream probably wasn’t going to fade any faster with him sitting there with his unwavering stare, “yeah, I’m–, uhm…” you propped yourself up on your elbow before sitting up more, “I’m fine.” 

“Did you have a nightmare?”

“No, it wasn’t a–…” your sentence then crumbled as you sucked in a breath, “what are you doing watching me sleep?”

As you met his gaze, he then uttered, “you asked me to stay.”

Your eyes then widened, “I did?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh…” though you couldn’t recall, heat still began to bloom on your cheeks, “I’m sorry, I didn’t–”

“It's alright,” his shoulders offered a faint shrug. 

Averting your gaze, you noticed that you were still in your dress. You weren’t quite sure if it pleased you or not that Bucky didn’t try to strip it off you, though it was probably less the moral intentions and more the fantasy of him peeling it off of you that swayed you. 

“Were you just planning on sleeping in that chair all night?” you asked. 

“No,” he shook his head, “I wasn’t planning on sleeping at all.” 

A tinge of guilt stung in your chest, “I’m really sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, I must have been asleep or something…” you then swung your legs over the side of the bed and got up. As your fingers raised up to pluck off your sparkling earrings, your feet began to carry you in the direction of your wardrobe. Dropping the jewellery off in a small porcelain bowl on the opposite bedside table, you then glanced back at your bodyguard and said, “you don’t have to stay any longer, you can go back to your room and get some sleep.” 

Offering you a nod, he then began to walk towards the door. 

Though, as you reached back to undo your dress, you abruptly uttered, “wait,” and he stopped before his steely fingers could enclose around the door handle. Turning to glance back at you, a bold request then hesitantly fell from your lips, “could you maybe help unzip me?”

He barely made a noise, simply hummed quietly in response before his slow stride carried him towards your frame as it twisted for your back to be turned to him.

When you felt his touch on the zipper, tugging it down ever so slowly, your breath came in ragged, and your eyes fluttered shut. You swore you felt his radiating heat seep into you as he exposed more of your goosebump-ridden spine. 

As the straps tumbled over your shoulders, your hands came up to your chest to hold it up even though you wished for nothing more than to let it drop before him.

And when the zipper finally reached its end, he lingered right behind you just long enough for you to catch the tether of it. Slowly, as if you were dealing with a skittish bird, you rotated around. You didn’t dare to look him in the eyes as you let yourself follow that magnetic pull you’d been trying to keep at bay. Your gaze flickered up to his lips as heated puffs of air seeped from your lungs and you slowly, hypnotically, inched closer. 

But then Bucky opened his mouth and said in a soft and quiet tone, “what are you doing?” making you halt, though not pull back. 

“Please don’t act like you don’t already know… I know you do…”

“You can’t,” he uttered, though didn’t move to walk away either as he captured your gaze, “we can’t, alright?”

“Why not?” you breathed, your eyes returning to his lips, “is it really that important for you to stay professional over everything else? Or is it that I’m just a job to you?” your heart felt as if it was gonna beat straight out of your chest, “you know I like you, I know you do. You notice everything, so of course you know. Am I right?”

A long exhale then flowed from his lungs before the faintest of nods tilted his head, “…yeah.”

“And I have eyes too, I’ve seen the way you look at me,” a shiver trickled down your spine, “so, are you really gonna just stand there and pretend you don’t feel something too? Just go back to your own room and continue to protect me like nothing’s going on?”

“Y/n, I can’t be with you,” he shook his head heavily, “you know I can’t.” 

Can’t or won’t?

Before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 

As if your quiet whispers melted him completely, your bodyguard breathed, “…fuck…” and the next thing you knew, he’d grabbed your face and seized your lips. 

It was like something inside of him had snapped, something you had shattered, with the way that he kissed you as if he’d been drowning and your lips were oxygen. 

As you lost yourself in the sensation of his tongue dancing across your own, you let the red dress drop down your body, passed the sheer stockings that clung around your thighs, to the floor. Like fire, one of his hands disappeared from your cheek and ran down your frame, grazing over the black lingerie that was now exposed.  

Though heated and hungry at first, the kiss soon softened into lighter pecks. 

With his metal hand, he held your face close to his as he withdrew from the kiss, an action you weren’t quite ready for as you dreamily trailed after him a bit, longing for his lips. 

“Are you sure this is what you want?” his hot breath fanned across your features. 

“Yes,” you whispered swiftly. 

But as you dizzily blinked up at him, he simply hummed for you to elaborate, “hm?”

“Yes, I want you,” goosebumps tingled across your skin. 

“You want me to what?” his thumb swiped over your cheekbone. 

“I want you to–, to–…” you fumbled as you felt your desire drip and soak your panties, making them cling to your aching core. 

“To what, huh?” 

“To–… fuck me,” the embarrassingly desperate words tumbled out your mouth. 

“You want me to fuck you?” his unwavering stare briefly dropped to your parted lips.

“Yes,” the syllable rushed out of you. 

“Say it again,” he tilted his chin. 

“I want you to fuck me.”

“Louder,” his feet began to shift, causing yours to shuffle back as well. 

“I want you to fuck me.”

“One more time,” his hand had dropped down to your jaw and his fingers curled slightly to dent your soft cheeks. 

“I want you to fuck me, please!” 

With the hold he had on you, he swiftly dipped down and pressed his lips to yours once more. The world then fell out from under you as his grasp scooped down your frame and plucked you up.

Your arms tangled around his neck right before your back collided with the closet door and your lips tilted away from his as a short squeak slipped out. The distance however lent Bucky to let his kisses dance down the length of your neck and across your cleavage, so perfectly framed by the sheer fabric of your bra. 

Though the hickeys he began to plant across your skin made your eyes roll in your skull, your fingers still captured his tie and tugged him back up for your lips to crash against his. As you moved to push his blazer off, his sturdy grip on you shifted though still held you close as the jacket fell from his burly frame and your palms swiftly scooped over his broad shoulders and down his chest, now one layer closer to letting you actually get to feel the furnace roiling beneath.

Cupping his face close, whimpers seeped out of you and vibrated against his lips as his fingers dug into your ass and rubbed your barely covered cunt over the palpable tent in his pants, your want surely drenching through your thin underwear and marking him as well. 

You almost didn’t realise that Bucky had moved till he dropped you down on the bed. Taking a step back, his tongue briefly flicked across his breathless lips as his fingers lifted to tug his tie off. 

Staring directly into your soul, he uttered, “take your bra off,” as he tossed the tie to the floor and your fingers scrambled to fulfil his request. When you flung the lingerie to the ground, right next to his crumbled tie, the cool night air kissed your pebbly nipples and Bucky let out a murmured curse right before bending down to press his lips to yours. 

Balanced on your elbows, you parted your lips and let his tongue sweep across your own. His touch coasted down your frame, barely granting your tits any attention before his grasp hooked around your thighs and yanked you closer to the edge of the mattress. A surprised yelp escaped you at first at the sudden shift, but as the sting of saliva, that had lingered and connected you from your sloppy kiss, snapped back against your skin, the short cry morphed into a fizzy giggle. 

The light laugh however faded away when you watched him sink to his knees at the foot of the bed. Your legs curled up even further on either side of you, though you weren’t quite sure if that was you or him pushing them up and cracking you open that much more. You could feel his breath hit your pantie-clad core as his gaze fixated on the soaked spot right over your puff. 

When his palm slid up your inner thigh, he only had to reach out his thumb for the broad pad to ghost over your covered slit. His eyes swiftly flickered up to capture yours, checking your reaction as you began to squirm from his feathery light touch. 

Hooking his finger in the gusset, he pulled it to the side and a glossy string stretched out and clung to the fabric as he revealed your glistening pussy. 

A breathy moan billowed out of you as he began to touch you, rolling your little pearl beneath his touch. Finding your eyes once more, he held your gaze as he then leaned down to press a gentle kiss over your clit. 

“This okay?” his voice vibrated against your bundle of nerves, making you twitch. 

“Mhm,” you nodded foggily, “you can do anything you want.”

“Anything?” his lips twitched into a smirk as his fingers stretched from where they were clutching your panties to brush over your button.

“Yeah,” you breathed, “fucking anything.” 

Your mouth then hung agape at the sight of him dipping down to ruthlessly taste your desire. It didn’t take long before he lost himself in you so fiercely that he momentarily leaned back only to rip your underwear off. Both of his hands curved around your bottom, raking across your skin as he drew you even closer to his tongue and dragged it through your wet folds.

Bumping his nose against your clit, he let himself make out with your cunt a moment longer before planting a farewell peck over your pearl and pulling back. A dollop of spit dropped from his lips down onto your pussy. Catching the drop with his fingers before it slid away, he rubbed it into your own juices and made you that much more of a mess. 

“O-oh,” you moaned as he slowly slid a long finger into you after teasing your weepy entrance enough to make you shiver. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned at the soppy sounds his efforts conjured.

Craning down to kiss your clit sloppily, Bucky then slid his ring finger in beside the other, curving them gently as he reached even deeper. 

When he momentarily retracted his digits to land a small tap over your puffy petals, the smile that bloomed on your face only egged him on further. Plugging you back up, he then retracted and repeated the slap though with more ferocity. 

Your head began to lull a bit as he brought his vibranium digits down to roll your clit and his fingers began to fuck you harder, not faster, but with an intent that made your pussy sing for him. 

With your thighs trembling, they nearly slammed shut as you felt the end near, but your bodyguard only slid his strong metal forearm over your legs, hooking it right under both of your bent knees, to keep you spread nice and open for him. 

The veins on the back of his inked hand popped from how fiercely his fingers rocked within you. 

Stretching his thumb up to strum your clit, he tried to sneak a third finger inside of you as he felt your walls begin to flutter around him. 

“That’s it, I’ve got you,” as he always did in every manner, evidently. A smile curved at his lips as your eyes fluttered closed and a symphony of moans flowed out of you with every last tender stroke he offered you to carry you over the edge, “atta girl.”

Melted against the sheets, you caught your breath as he planted one last peck on your inner thigh before standing back up. 

Slowly, with his gaze ever glued on you, he unbuttoned his shirt, gradually revealing the silver shine of the dog tags that hung from his neck and the tattoos that sprawled across his skin. Going all the way up from the hand still shiny with your essence, the ink swirled up his right arm, across his pecs, down his back and even curved over to his left shoulder and intentionally tangled into the gnarly scares sprouting from the border of his prosthetic. 

When the button-up hit the floor, his fingers drifted down to unhurriedly remove his belt, pulling it out of the loops, he let it join the shirt before he undid his pants and let his cock spring free. 

“Jesus christ…” your jaw couldn’t help but drop to the floor as your eyes fluttered at the intimidating reveal. 

Noticing the anxiety that peeked through your lust-ridden expression, his low voice found your ears, “what? Did you change your mind?” 

“No, I just–…” you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his fat cock as it throbbed before you, “I got a bit nervous all of a sudden.” 

“No reason to be nervous, baby,” he breathed out a smile as his fist curled around his girth.  

“Oh really?” you nearly began to laugh. 

“You’ll be fine,” drool threatened to escape the corner of your lips as he slowly began to stroke himself, “trust me.” 

“Really? Because I’m not so sure I’ll be able to take that…” 

“You will,” he uttered calmly as he dipped down to give you a kiss, “don’t worry,” a hand slid into your hair as he cradled your face and ushered your gaze to find his, “you know I’d never hurt you, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, you’ll be fine,” his thumb curved to sweep over your cheek a few times. 

“Yeah,” you gently nodded and repeated after him, “I’ll be fine.”

“That’s my girl,” he smiled. Kissing you once more, he then pressed a peck to your forehead before his grasp found your hips and he suddenly flipped you around, onto your stomach. 

Helping you up onto your hands and knees, a hazy smile stretched across your features as he bent down over you and pressed kisses all along your spine. Dragging his bulbous tip through your sopping folds, he then teased you for so long, never granting you any more than a dizzying nudge, that whines began to escape from you.

“P-please,” you heard yourself beg as your fingers bunched up the sheets. 

“What?” he continued to flick and tap your swollen clit with the head of his heavy cock.

“I–I want it–, plea–, please fuck me,” you blubbered desperately. 

“Oh, now you want it, huh?” you could hear the smirk that dominated his face, “suddenly not so nervous anymore about me stretching you out, are you?”

“Bucky, plea–, o-oh–,” you felt your limbs tremble beneath you as he slipped the very tip inside. 

His efforts were so slow at first, gradually giving you more of his length and just shallowly fucking you till you blossomed and opened up for him. 

Gradually, his thrusts began to ease from a mind-numbingly slow pace to something that truly scrambled your brain. You soon lost yourself completely to the molten sensation of his fat girth steadily splitting you open. 

Though when he finally bottomed out within you, a shrill gasp slipped out passed your lips and your frame shuttered beneath him. 

Drawing his hips back just enough for you to regain the ability to fill your lungs with oxygen once more, you heard him murmur in your ear, “what, is it too much dick for you?” retraining his thrusts slightly, he kept his tip from kissing your cervix, “that better or is it still too deep for you?” his hands dented your hips.

“N-no, no, it feels so good, it’s just–,” a whimper slipped out of you and broke up your slurring, “you’re so fucking big, I’ve never–,” you felt like you could feel him all the way up in your throat, “no one’s ever been that fucking deep before.”

One of his hands curved down to your clit at the exact same time as your own did. As they met, he let your own fingers swirl over your puffy pearl as his simply lingered, till he suddenly grasped your wrist and gently led it away from your pussy, further up to your lower stomach. 

“That deep?” he pressed down on your palm and let you discover the dull bulge that formed in your belly at every one of his dizzying thrusts, “has no one ever stuffed you that full before? Not even one of your pretty toys you play with so often?”

“Nuh-uh,” you panted as his warm contact dissipated from your spine and he straightened back up. 

A gravelly moan slipped out past Bucky’s lips as he glanced down to see how tightly your creamy pussy was gripping onto his cock. Your fingers returned to the sheets as his wide palm came down to slap your ass, your back arching at the impact and consequently angling his efforts so that the details of his dick brushed against your g-spot in the most heavenly way imaginable. 

He only buried himself inside of you a few more times, his heavy sack tapping against your buzzing clit at every electric buck, till your pussy gushed around his fat girth. 

“There you go,” he pulled out only to insistently flick your puffy pearl with his tip, “fucking hell,” he then plunged his cock all the way back in before dragging it back out, “keep going,” ushering more squirt to drizzle out. He kept up the overwhelming pattern till your pussy stopped gushing for him, till he’d pushed you through the overstimulation and your cunt slowly began to relax again for him. Eventually, when he steadily withdrew from you, he craned his neck to relish in the way your little hole had stretched out and accommodated so well for him, it even winking sinfully at him every time he pulled out, “good fucking girl,” he growled at the sight, “told you so, you’d do just fine,” your shaky frame jolted as he slapped your ass again, “look at you now fucking gaping for me, christ…”

With a ring of your cream staining the base of his cock, he let himself return to your warmth for longer than just a few seconds, fucking you with such ferocity that your pliant form, still molten and unsteady from your second orgasm, collapsed onto the mattress below. 

Though he successfully caught you before you could slip off his cock entirely, he still let you drop down on the bed, though softened the fall for you, before he followed suit. 

The weight of him on top of you felt so comforting and soothed on your tingly skin.

“You okay?” he kissed your cheek before spreading your stocking-clad legs with his own. 

“Hm,” you nodded foggily and felt yourself drool onto the sheets as he squished you further into the mattress.

Your shaky moans filled the bedroom as he slid back inside, “fuck, you feel so good…” sloppily nipping just below your ear before he picked up his pace. 

The chain that dangled from his neck felt cool on your skin and acted as a stark contrast to how hot his body felt pressed against your back. 

“You think you can be a good girl and cum for me again?” he groaned into your ear as his efforts echoed sloppily, “let me feel that pretty pussy squeeze around me one last time?”

“I-I don’t know,” you trembled beneath him, every one of his deep thrusts making you jolt and gasp for air as he was practically splitting you in half. 

“You don’t know?” he sweetly whispered in your ear as he curled his arms under you. One hand slid under your tit and caught your pebbly nipple in a rude pinch while the other soared down to your sore and swollen clit, “can you try for me? Try and cum again,” your eyes had fallen completely shut, so your whole reality had just become Bucky’s reassuring weight, his tantalising efforts, and his sinful whispers that seeped directly into your soul, “try and squirt for me one last time, sweetheart.” 

And so, you did. It didn’t even take that long before you tumbled over one last time and your pussy creamed for him, drenching the already damp sheets beneath you, as he swiftly came as well, throbbing deep within your clenching cunt and filling your little hole up to the brim till it tried to leak and escape around his girth.

His heavy pants faded from your ear as he slowly crawled off of you, cascading a tender trail of kisses all the way down your body till he gently retraced his track of pecks and settled down next to you. Fluttering your eyes open as his palm slid up to your heated cheek, he gazed into your hazy eyes for a moment before leaning in to softly press his lips to your own. 

You wanted to curl in closer to his frame, but your body was so exhausted that you could barely raise your pinkie finger. Fortunately though, as you layed there in wordless wonder, Bucky’s arms draped around you as he scooted in close, hugging you to him and gently caressing your skin as you continued to blink back into his ocean eyes, not uttering a word out of fear that you’d ruin the blissful moment.

After perhaps a small eternity had passed, he briefly raised his head up slightly to catch sight of the small clock on your bedside table. 

“There’s still a few more hours left before the sunrise…” he settled back down beside you.

“Oh, yeah?” a soft smile tilted up your lips as his touch began to travel south. 

“Yeah,” his lips gently parted in a silent moan as his fingers slid through your sore folds. His stare was transfixed on how your brows knitted together and a quiet hiss slipped out of you as he swirled over your sensitivity, playing with the hot load he’d pumped into you as it slowly leaked out, one of his digits too brash not to try and stuff it back inside, “what do you think?” sharing your breath, he inched in and let his nose nuzzle against your own, “do you want me to be yours just a little bit longer or would you rather I’d return to my own bed?” 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[nottsangel]

oh oH OH but i need matteo, theo and enzo to be extremly frustrated and jealous when they noticed that we do bring home some guys!! like they're trying so hard to act nonchalant and like they don't care at all BUT they're secretly seething and plotting how they can stop us from getting any because how dare we?? we have three premium dicks at home, we don't need mediocre dick from the street heLLOOO

new girl au — in which you live with theodore, mattheo and lorenzo

“you gotta be quiet, okay? my roommates are fucking annoying and i really want to avoid them.” you whisper urgently to cedric as you slowly turn the creaky handle of the front door, carefully opening it and swiftly dragging him inside. from the kitchen, you hear theo, mattheo and enzo’s loud voices, overlapping as they chat and laugh uncontrollably, the noise echoing through the apartment.

“go that way.” you whisper again, pointing as you tip-toe nervously toward your bedroom while tightly gripping cedric’s hand to guide him. you hold your breath, tense with anticipation, desperately trying not to make a sound. and you think you’ve succeeded— until you hear mattheo’s nagging voice.

“so you’re not even going to introduce your new friend to us?” you groan in frustration, slowly turning on your heel before forcing a bright, yet clearly fake smile. “oh! i didn’t know you guys were home.” “bullshit.” theo mutters under his breath, making you roll your eyes in sheer annoyance.

“anyway, this is cedric. now, if you guys don’t mind—” “cedric, huh? welcome to our glamorous house. make yourself at home.” lorenzo says in the laziest, most indifferent tone, not even bothering to look at cedric.

then mattheo chimes in, his voice dripping with mocking amusement, “you’re like the fifth guy he’s had to say that to this week, so he’s a bit tired of it already, y’know.” your eyes widen in surprise, and your lips form a thin, displeased line while feeling your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“what!? that— that’s not even true! cedric, don’t listen—”

“yeah, she’s fucking a guy in there like every night. we’re barely getting any sleep these days.” theo adds with a derisive chuckle, sarcastically winking at you as he takes a sip from his drink.

“and she doesn’t just fuck guys from outside these walls, if you know what i mean. but i’m sure she told you.” lorenzo smirks cockily, a self-satisfied and arrogant expression plastered on his face. at this point, you see red as you glare at each of them with narrowed eyes and your jaw tightly clenched, while cedric stands awkwardly by your side, giving you an uneasy and uncomfortable smile.

“uhm, hey… guys. nice to meet you. it’s— it’s a nice apartment you have.”

“cedric, you can go to my room. i’ll be there in a bit, okay?”

it’s dead silent as you’re glaring daggers at the boys, your arms folded tightly across your chest, before you finally hear your bedroom door click shut. “I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD! what the FUCK is wrong with you guys!? oh my god, i’m so done with—”

“relax, baby. it’s just guy banter, alright? you clearly don’t get it, but he does.” lorenzo explains nonchalantly with a smug expression, but you know he’s full of shit, seeing right through him. you furiously storm towards them and slap each of the boys angrily on the back of their heads.

“ow! what was that for?” mattheo asks, wincing in pain and rubbing the back of his head. “are you fucking serious?! you guys are cockblocking me, you dumb fuck.”

“calm down, piccola. you know we love you, hm?” theo comments teasingly, tightly wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you close, planting a quick, playful kiss on your head.

“this isn’t love! pull shit like this again and i swear to god, i’ll kill each one of you with my bare fucking hands.” “yes ma’am. got it ma’am. please kill mattheo first, ma’am.” “oh fuck you enzo.”

ੈ♡˳

reminder: reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated and keep me motivated. ty! ♡

[0097linersb]

Sour Candy (m)

Pairings: Mingi x Reader

Genre: Smut

Word count: 5k~

Warnings: Very very very needy Mingi, wouldn't say exactly sub!mingi but kind of sub!mingi u know, good boi´s just very desperate. consent lines are kind of blurred in this one so pls skip if it makes u uncomfortable, this was just written in like an hour with absolutely no thoughts or grammar-checking, head empty only filled with crying whiny men <3

Follow me on twitter: wooyosgfreal <3

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

“What time did Yunho say he was coming back again?” You asked for about the fourth time that afternoon. 

“In like an hour or two,” Mingi answered patiently like he did all the other times you asked before. “Bro, why do you hate me?” 

“Because you keep making me play this boring game and it really fucking sucks.” 

“That´s just because you´re bad at it.” 

“You´re literally worse than me.” 

“Maybe modernity was wrong all along, maybe women really shouldn´t be allowed to have opinions.” 

“It is a fact, not an opinion. Maybe you men should still be in planes being shipped off to war and leave us alone.” 

“Fine. Do you want to play something else, princess?” 

“Let´s play Overcooked,” You squealed.  

Mingi didn´t even groan this time when you mentioned the game you and Seonghwa were obsessing over lately, simply going back to the home screen on Yunho´s Playstation and looking for the colorful icon. He knew there was no arguing with you. 

While the game was loading, Mingi handed you the main controller and stood up, fixing his shirt that had scrunched up and stretching his back, “Set everything up, I´m gonna go find some snacks.” 

You happily did as told, driving your little animated truck towards the level you had last failed at and playing with your phone to wait for your friend, at least until your vision was blocked by said friend pushing a red plastic bag in front of your face. 

“What´s that?” You asked, already reaching into the bag and picking up one of the soft candies inside. 

Mingi simply shrugged, already chewing on one of the jellies, “Dunno, found them in the kitchen. They´re pretty good though.” 

You trusted his words, popping the candy into your mouth and waiting for the flavors to kick in - and hell you wish you didn´t. 

“Oh my god this is disgusting,” Your face contorts in distaste. 

“It´s cinnamon,” Mingi stares you down, clearly not amused.  

“Yeah, with candle wax. Ew.” 

“Just swallow it and stop being a baby.” 

“I will literally kill myself.” 

He gave you another judgmental glare and sat down next to you on the couch once again, already reaching for his third candy from hell as you forced yourself to let it slide down your throat. You handed him the main remote and picked up the secondary one, coughing to see if flowing some air into your lungs would get the taste of rotten papaya out of your mouth.  

“Maybe it´s poison that Yunho left out as a trap because you keep stealing his food.” 

“Nah, it was right on top of the counter,” He waved it off, pressing play on the game. 

“My point stands.” 

“Yeah, whatever.” 

“You´re very eloquent today.” 

“You´re very annoying today.” 

“The salmon Mingi, the fucking salmon!!” 

“I´m getting it!” 

“Bro, you gotta throw it!” 

“Fuck. I know, but if I leave the fucking rice is going to burn.” 

“I´m throwing you more rice.” 

“I don´t need it.” 

“Yes, you do. Oh my god.” 

“What I do need are some clean plates.” 

“Oh, yeah. On it.” 

“Why do you like this game?” He groaned, cleaning the sweat from his forehead and reaching for another candy in the bag. “You´re making me stress eat.” 

“Doesn´t it make you feel pumped?”  

“Yeah, pumped to punch the TV.” 

“We have one more minute, we can do it if you stop being dumb.” 

“There are literally two plates on the counter ready to go and you haven´t delivered them yet.” 

“Jeez, done. Can you slice me some tomatoes?” 

“One sec,” He answered, mouth full of yet another candy. 

“It would be faster if you would just stop eating.” 

“We´re not making it anyways, let me enjoy one thing at least.” 

And he was right: a few seconds later the TV screen was filled with the sad numbers displaying how you didn´t reach the minimum score - didn´t even come close to it in fact. 

Mingi let out his frustrations by popping the nth white jelly past his lips and you stared at him in disgust, reaching for the bag to understand what that malevolent creation even was.  

“Huh...” 

“What?” He asked. 

“Hm, I mean, this is all in German or Dutch but I´m pretty sure this word means aphrodisiac.” 

“Come again?” His mouth was hanging open mid chew, unblinking eyes staring at you. 

“Hm, yeah. Wasn´t Yunho´s friend just in Amsterdam? The one with the big smile? Maybe he brought those as a souvenir, since you know, it´s Amsterdam. Like, ‘haha look at this candy that makes you horny´.” 

“Oh, yeah. But it´s like a placebo touristy thing, right?” He laughed nervously. “Like, these won´t actually make me horny, right?” 

“Nah, I don´t think this kind of stuff works. It´s probably just for shit and giggles. Do you feel any different?” 

“I don´t know, my heart is beating faster. I think I´m going to die.” 

“Mingi, relax. Now it´s probably just because you´re nervous.” 

“No, what if there´s some kind of drug in these? I ate almost 10 of them! Oh my god I´m going to die. Am I going to overdose, Y/N? What if I start hallucinating?” 

He was being a bit overdramatic, but he did have genuine concerns. 

“Wait, let me call Yunho.” 

Mingi didn´t even hear you, too busy at his own pity party as he whined and stared at the bag´s labels like he could suddenly speak Dutch.  

“Y/N?” Yunho´s voice filled your ears. 

“Hm, hi. Sorry to bother you at work but we´ve kind of got a situation.” 

“Oh my god, did Mingi break my door playing with the bar? I already told him-” 

“No, nothing like that. Huh, do you know that candy that you left on the kitchen counter?” 

“What? No. What cand- Oh. Oh.” 

“Huh, yeah. So... Mingi found it and ate like 10 of them?” 

“Y/N.” 

“Is that bad? He´s kind of freaking out, he´s afraid there´s like drugs in them or something.” 

“There are some stimulants in them but like, in minor quantities. He won´t die because of it. But bro, bro.” 

“What?” You whined, Yunho´s tone making you anxious. 

“He had 10 of them? San had like 3 and said he was at it for hours.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah, oh.” 

“So I guess these do work, huh?” 

“Haven´t tried them, but from what San says it´s some strong shit. Did you take any?” 

“Just like one, tastes like organic trash.” 

“Yeah, good. Let me know how it goes, please just stay out of my bedroom.” 

“Your bedroom? Why would- What are you trying to imply, Jeong Yunho?” 

“Oh shit, client calling. Byeee,” He laughed. “Stupid.” 

As soon as you put your phone away, Mingi stopped talking to himself like a mad man and stared at you with big hopeful eyes. 

“I have good news and bad news.” 

“Am I going to die?” 

“That´s the good news: no, you´re not. No.” 

“And what are the bad news?” 

“Apparently you will get very horny, though.” 

He froze at your words, looking down at his pants, “I don´t feel it, though.” 

“Maybe you won´t, it might be different for everyone,” You shrug, standing up and grabbing your sweater. “All I know is that I am leaving because if it does happen, that´s not a sight I want to be here for.” 

“Please no,” Mingi whined, literally throwing himself on his knees to catch your arm before you could walk away. “Don´t leave me alone here. I just ingested unknown substances, what if my body reacts badly and I actually die? What if I throw up and drown in my own puke here all alone?” 

Once again, over-dramatic but right.  

“Yeah, you´re right,” You sighed. “I would still rather die than see you with a boner so here´s what we´re gonna do: I´m locking myself in Yunho´s room and you can freely roam the apartment and do whatever you want, I´ll check up on you every few minutes. Sounds good?” 

“Yeah, ok,” Mingi agreed. 

“Also, if you´re going to like - ” You motioned vaguely towards his pants hoping he would get what you were trying to say. “Give me a heads up so I can put on some earphones.” 

“Oh my god,” He whined in shame, cheeks going flush. “Yeah, ok.” 

“Ok, good. Huh, bye,” You awkwardly waved as you made your way towards Yunho´s room. “Good luck.” 

You closed the door behind you, hearing as Mingi opened some other game back in the living room. There was not much to do in Yunho´s room so you decided to lay in bed and scroll through Tiktok until Mingi stopped thinking he was going to die and you could leave. Also, you did eat one of the candies too, so you guessed that if they did work, you would feel it as well. 

10 minutes later you still heard Mingi normally playing and cursing outside, but you still decided to yell out an “Everything good?” just to be sure. 

“Yeah!” Was his answer. 

Another 15 minutes went by, and you shot him a text. 

Not dead yet? 

Mings: Still good, I don´t think these things actually work. 

Maybe Yunho was just messing with us.  

Mings: Yeah, fucking asshole. 

You went back to watching your silly little videos, not even noticing the time passing or how everything suddenly went quiet outside. Over half an hour had gone by when your ears finally perked up at the lack of your friend´s loudness.  

You sat up in bed worried. 

You good? 

No answer. 

Mingi? 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. 

You were already picturing his dead body looking all stupid on Yunho´s carpet, thinking about how you were going to explain to the paramedics that he died because he ate too much horny candy.  

No, even worse: How would you explain this to his family? 

Oh, no. Not your best friend. How would you live without him? You liked teasing him and you bickered a lot but you love- 

Your little spiral of insanity was interrupted by a knock on the door and your body was finally able to move after how it had been paralyzed with fear for a few minutes. 

“Mingi?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Oh, thank god. You scared the shit out of me,” You took a deep breath in relief, staring at Yunho´s white door. “What´s up?” 

“Huh, can I come in?” 

You furrowed your eyebrows at his tone.  

Something sounded weird about this.  

“Sure,” You answered skeptically.  

Mingi opened the door and came in, head cast down and gaze not meeting your eyes. 

“What´s wrong-” You started asking worriedly, about to jump out of the bed to go check up on him before your eyes finally zeroed in on the very prominent bulge in his pants. “Song Mingi! What the fuck?” 

“I- I don´t know what to do,” His eyes finally met yours, cheeks tinted in pink and hands trembling. He looked at you like a kicked puppy.  

“And what do I have to do with it? Go deal with it yourself. Eeew, we talked about this,” You raised your hand in the air to try and block the bottom half of Mingi from your line of vision.  

“I already did,” He groaned, rubbing his face in frustration. “Twice.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah. Nothing fucking works - and also, I just can´t stop thinking about you.” 

“What?” You never heard your voice go so high before. “Nuh uh, we´re not going there. Absolutely not.” 

“I´m not happy about it either, ok?” His fingers were squeezing the corner of the door so thigh they were almost white. “Just please, help me out this once. Please.” 

Oh. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

You just prayed that the reason you started clenching around nothing was because the candy was finally kicking in and not because stupid Song Mingi was practically begging in front of you. 

“No!” You screeched, weirded out by your own sudden reaction. “This isn´t you talking, it´s just th stupid candy, you´ll regret it after it wears off -” 

“No but I won´t,” He disagreed, closing the door and rushing towards you like a madman in three large strides. 

You had never seen him like this, you never once in a million years could have gone as far as even imagining the look in his eyes right now. 

“Fuck. It´s just - your skin is so soft, you know?” Mingi pushed the covers to the side so his hand could squeeze your thigh, his knees dipping into the mattress as he crawled on top of you. You were too shocked to move away, frozen in place with your mouth open wide, not really knowing what to do as he rubbed the palm of his hands up and down your skin, squeezing it occasionally with a heavy breath like he had just reached heaven´s gate. 

“Mingi,” You warned, but your voice didn´t sound that threatening anymore. 

“Please, just once,” He breathed out, practically rubbing himself against your body like a cat in heat forcing you to slowly lie back in the bed, his hands gently guiding yours over your head as you slid down. You looked up at his glazed eyes, at the way his hands were shaking around your wrists, the way he was discreetly rutting against your thigh without even realizing he was doing it. He looked so vulnerable and frenzied – And it was doing something to you. 

“Mingi,” You whined, not even sure what you were trying to say or do. 

“You kept walking around with this white top all day,” He let out a broken groan, looking down at said top. “Your boobs look amazing in it. I just- I – Can I?” 

His begging eyes were enough to get you automatically nodding before even realizing what you were agreeing to - When you did process what he was asking for though, his right hand was already squeezing your boobs and kneading at them like his life depended on it, his calloused fingers firm on your body. You could feel how hard he was every time he subconsciously ground against you, shaky hot breaths leaving his lips and hitting the sensitive skin on the side of your neck where his plump soft lips kept lightly brushing against with every move. 

Mingi took advantage of the position, sucking against your vein and leaving pleas in the form of little kisses around your skin. His thumb played with your nipple and your hands were still abandoned on top of your head against the sheets, not sure if you would really let this happen yet - but Mingi didn´t seem to mind, too lost in worshipping you into compliance.  

“I need to fuck you. Like, right now. I´ll - I´ll make you feel good too, I promise,” The shakier and breathier his voice sounded the wetter you got. “I promise. I promise. Please. We -we don´t even need to fuck I can – I can – Let me – Just the tip- Anything-” 

“Just the tip?” 

“Yeah,” He eagerly nodded, his eyes so hopeful you could melt. 

“Ok,” You agreed, physically not being able to say no to his pleading eyes.  

“Fuck,” He groaned in surprise, not actually thinking you would agree to it - But since you did, he wasted no time and made quick work of practically ripping your cotton short down your legs in one harsh tug. “Under normal circumstances I would, you know – But, I – right now I – I can´t.” 

“It´s ok,” You assured, afraid he would actually cry if you made him wait another single second with how desperate he was. 

He hooked his finger on the bottom of your panties and pushed them to the side, not even being able to take them out. He stared at your pussy for a moment, his eyes looking even more insane than before at the sight, like he would actually growl at you. 

“Fuck,” Mingi cursed as he went out of the little trance he was in, pushing his sweater pants and boxers down in a rush - once again not even bothering with taking them all out.  

And oh fuck. 

His cock was so hard you could imagine how it actually hurt; it throbbed against the skin of his abdomen without even being touched, looking swollen and angry with all the veins surrounding it - And man were you glad you agreed on just the tip because there was just no way that would fit without a lot of preparation first. Even with how wet you were right now. Who knew? 

Mingi leaned on top of you once again, one arm supporting the weight of his body in between your legs as he gently guided his dick up and down your folds, his eyes closing at the feeling, a violent shiver taking over his thighs and up his spine with a loud groan.  

Like he had absolutely no control over his body, Mingi positioned himself against your entrance, slowly pushing just a little bit in as promised. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” His groans sounded so raw against your ear as he cursed over the initial resistance of your walls, his forehead meeting your neck to try and ground himself. 

You even let a moan out yourself because this was absolute madness, it felt insane. Your whole body was buzzing like you were electrified, your fingers ached to scratch Mingi´s back and pull him all the way in - Damn, those candies were good.  

And you only had one. 

“Y/N, fuck,” Mingi gasped as he started moving his hips in shallow little thrusts so he wouldn´t break your agreement. “Ah - Ah. I can´t think strai - You´re so pretty. Fuck, fuck.” 

His lips met your neck once again, messy kisses full of saliva and teeth as he shuddered on top of you, leaving marks that would soon turn purple. You could feel how tense every single muscle in his body was as he fought against himself to not rut deeper into you every time he moved, and you were biting onto your lip so hard to keep the noises inside that you could taste blood.  

“Thank you, thank you,” You shivered at the way cold air hit your neck when Mingi pulled back a bit to look you in the eye, “Can I go ah- a little deeper, please? Just a little. It feels so good, I need ah- more. Fuck.” 

“Mingi.” 

“Please,” He cried out and you just couldn´t believe the sight in front of you. 

Tall big strong Song Mingi with the deep voice, reduced to a disheveled delirious mess. His ashy blond hair rumpled, his cheeks burning pink and skin glistening with sweat, his pupils huge and shiny and he just looked so disheartened that it was breaking your heart to not let him just use you however he wanted.  

“I need you,” He agonized, his right arm clinging onto your shoulder like you would run away from him if you could, so out of it that he was already pushing deeper into you without even noticing, eyes shut so tightly at the sensation of your walls around him. “Please, please, please, please,” It was like a mantra. 

He was far gone. 

And kind of so were you. 

You whine in pain and raspy moans left Mingi´s soft lips every time he thrust back into you, hitting farther each time, “I´m sorry, baby. I´m sorry. You can take it right? Ah – Just a bit more, I promise. Fuck. I´m almost ah- in. Why do you smell so good? It´s driving me ah – insane.” 

It hurt, it did hurt, but you also didn´t seem to mind that he was practically splitting you open when his voice sounded this pretty apologizing for it. 

The speed and strength of his hips started picking up to match his urgency, his plush lips were open so captivatingly and his weight was now supported by both arms so he could pistol into you. He didn´t have a specific angle or rhythm to it, his moves were strictly instinctual and carnal, your nails finally finding your way down his back to keep yourself anchored to reality. 

“You´re so so so beautiful, fuck. Your lips - can´t stop thinking about them around my ah- cock. Will you show me?”  

You loved how broken his voice sounded. 

“Yeah, baby. Whatever you want.” 

He shuddered once again at your words, “I´m so close.” 

“Me too,” You nodded, still doing your very best to not let noises of pleasure escape past your lips – and kind of failing. 

“Let me hear you,” Mingi growls, managing to somehow snake his hand in between your bodies to start drawing quick circles on your clit. “Please, I love your voice.” 

You wouldn´t be able to hold back even if you wanted to.  

His chaotic rhythm had an appeal of its own, every broken moan that left his mouth drew you closer to the edge until you finally reached it. Your vision went black, nails digging into Mingi´s biceps so harshly you would feel bad for it later, every muscle in your body tightening as it all washed over you in a devastating wave, leaving your body in the form of gasps and breathy moans. 

“Oh my god, fuck,” Mingi cursed at the way your walls were clenching so tightly around him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” 

He wouldn´t slow down and you were still coming down from your high, twitching with the aftershocks as the oversensitivity quickly began to rise, but you decided to ignore it the best you couldand push through it - you could tell Mingi was close anyway with the way his thrusts became even more erratic, and his voice went up with every moan.  

You were mesmerized by his glossy unfocused eyes, the frown on his forehead, so frantic to get what he needed by ramming into you. He looked so pretty like this, you wanted to destroy him-  

Wow. 

Wait. 

Now where did that come from? 

“Shit, I´m gonna- Fuck, fuck.” 

You watched as his whole body froze for a second before violently shaking, his eyes shot so tightly he was probably seeing white as he continued thrusting into you to ride his orgasm to the end as you felt something warm hitting your walls. And his moans, oh his moans – I mean, you were not deaf, you had always been well-aware that Mingi had an attractive voice, but to hear it like this, so raw and relieved, was truly something else. 

Mingi let out one last broken cry as he slowly stopped moving, dropping his weight on top of you to catch his breath, chest heaving up and down against your ribcage as his muscles continued twitching here and there. You took advantage of the moment to get yourself together too, stabilizing your breathing and trying to figure out what the hell just happened as you two went down, but you also kind of expected Mingi to say something or try to joke around a bit to lessen the burden of the fact that the two of you just fucked - and when he didn´t, well, you started getting worried. 

You were mustering up the courage to say something after the two minutes of silence when the last thing you expected to happen, happened.  

Your eyes were blown wide, “Mingi-” 

“I can´t stop, I´m sorry-” He whined, his still rock-solid cock now slowly moving inside of you once again, rutting into you like he had absolutely no control over himself. 

He was still hard? 

Wasn´t this like his third time already? 

His whole body was shaking in overstimulation but he wouldn´t stop grinding into you, “I´m sorry.” 

“Mingi,” You tried pulling away from him thinking that´s what he was asking for. 

“No, don´t. Ah- Need you,” He desperately grabbed onto your thighs and wrapped them around his hips, your chests flushed against each other's as he hid his forehead on your neck to keep fucking deep into you. Literal whines of pain were leaving his lips, it was like he was an animal incapable of rational thoughts, and it was making you feel dizzy. 

“Mingi, love. You´re going to hurt yourself.” 

“No, feels so ah- Just one more,” He moaned, body shuddering. His whines got you clenching involuntarily around him, suddenly realizing you were kind of close to the edge already. “Please.” 

You felt a strong bite on your shoulder disguising a groan, the animalistic act crashed with how smoothly he was sliding in and out of you, but it also showed how deranged he was at the moment. You tightened your thighs around Mingi´s hips and pulled at the hair on his nape, not bothering with trying to cover up your moans anymore. 

Mingi took the action as permission and started gradually moving his hips faster, broken little whines getting louder and more frequent each second until he was once again supported by both his arms and pistoling into you.  

“I can´t - I can´t,” His voice was so shaky, so broken. “I - Please.” 

And then your whole world stopped as you watched the first tear roll down Mingi´s cheek. 

You were mesmerized, you wanted to frame it.  

“It hurts,” He whimpered, another tear falling, followed by another and then another.  

“You´re almost there,” You cooed, deciding to be useful to the poor giant man breaking down on top of you. “Aren´t you? So close.” 

Mingi nodded, blinking harshly to clear his vision which resulted in more tears running down his face. You just couldn´t help supporting your weight onto your elbow so you could lean up and hold his jaw, kissing the salty traces across his cheeks until his face was clean. He immediately started shaking, moans growing whinier and choppier, his thrusts started losing their patterns as he plowed into you like his life depended on it, entering a mental state he never knew existed before. 

His right hand grabbed your thigh with enough force to bruise it badly as he came for what you imagined was the fourth time in an hour, holding you so close that you could feel his cock hitting impossible places deep inside of you. Mingi was breathing so hard you were kind of worried for his well-being but the noises leaving his lips assured you he was feeling pleasure at least as his nose found its place on your neck once again. 

“Feeling better?” You asked once he had calmed down a little. 

“Kind of,” He pushed back to look at you with a low chuckle, his eyes looking a tad bit saner already. “But I also kind of need to eat you out.” 

You felt his dick twitch inside of you at his own words and how the fuck was that even possible? 

A painful whimper left his lips at the slight stimulation, already way past oversensitive, “Please?” 

 He had the nerve to pout. 

[fastandcarlos]

Best Nurse Ever : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris

summary: after a nasty crash over the weekend, lando is relying on you to help him get better again

As the door shut and you waved goodbye to Oscar, the smile on Lando’s face disappeared. Laid out on the couch, leg upright, Lando couldn’t help but stare with envy as the two of you walked through your apartment with ease, Oscar free to go outside again, whilst Lando was stuck within the same four walls. 

When he injured his leg you knew he wasn’t going to take it well, bedrest was the worst scenario Lando could’ve dreamt of, and now here he was, barely able to move himself off of the sofa without screaming in pain. 

The figure before you was one that you didn’t recognise, all his energy and enthusiasm had gone and was replaced by frustration and desperation. You were trying your best for him, doing what you could to help Lando’s recovery, but it was going to be a long way to go before he was back to his usual self. 

You walked through the apartment, sitting on the end of the sofa as you placed your hand against Lando’s foot, making sure that you were careful to not catch part of the foot that would end up causing more pain for Lando. 

“Everything good?” You asked, offering Lando a faint smile. 

His head nodded as he wore a weak smile, but you could see straight through it. Recovery was already proving to be a lot harder than Lando could have ever imagined, he was used to living life at two hundred miles an hour, and now he was barely moving at one. 

“Shall I give you some space?” You offered as Lando remained quiet. You could tell he was trying to keep it together, and with you clearly more able to move than Lando, you didn’t want to sit somewhere that you weren’t wanted. 

Lando’s head shook as he tried to encourage the smile on his face to grow, not wanting you to ever feel as if he didn’t want you around. He loved having you there, even if he hated the fact that you were having to run around after him. 

You could tell he was lost in thought still, his eyes staring down at the floor debating whatever was going on in his head to himself. “It’s going to get easier you know Lan, each day you’re already starting to make good progress.” 

“I’m not used to just sitting and doing nothing,” he sighed, snapping himself out of his thoughts. “These exercises are killing me, usually they’re like a tame warm up for a workout.” 

“I know it’s frustrating, but that’s what’s helping you heal,” you reminded him, reaching out to take a hold of your hand. “Everyone is here to help you; they care and want to see you get better.” 

“I hate it,” Lando huffed, “I’m the one supposed to be taking care of you.” 

Your head shook as Lando spoke, “we’re a team and we take care of each other. It’s far from ideal to be injured, especially with how fast paced you usually are, but we’ve just got to crack on. Sure, it’s a little bump in the road, but it doesn’t mean everything just comes to a stop.” 

“How do you manage to make even this sound positive?” 

“Because we can’t change it,” you chuckled, moving closer towards Lando. “There’s no point sitting and dwelling on something you can’t change; we’ve just got to try and be positive about what comes next.” 

“Thank you,” Lando whispered, stretching his leg out slightly to try and wake it back up again. “I know there are some pretty cool nurses at the hospital, but as far as I’m concerned, you’re the best nurse ever.” 

Your eyes rolled at Lando’s compliment, nudging your hand against his other leg. He chuckled back at you, knowing exactly how you were going to react before he even said anything, never failing to catch you out with his cheeky remarks. 

“You’re going to heal and be alright Lando,” you assured him. 

“I know, I just wish I could be alright now, not weeks down the line,” he frowned, squeezing against your hand. “I need to remember to walk before I start running though.” 

You nodded in agreement, “you need to stop being so hard on yourself, these things happen.” 

Lando knew that you were right, despite how stubborn he was. He didn’t ask to get injured, but there was very little he could do about it now. “The first race is on Saturday; do you think we could do something? I don’t feel like sitting and watching it knowing that I can’t be there to complete.” 

You immediately nodded, anticipating this from Lando. As the build-up for after the summer was starting, Lando was finding it harder to listen to the headlines and watch the videos knowing that he wasn’t able to be there and be part of it. 

“What sort of thing did you have in mind for us to do?” 

“I was thinking cuddles and pretending that only we exist.” 

“We can do that,” you laughed, watching his eyes light up. “I’m sure that Oscar would still like to know that you’re cheering for him though. The constructors is still on, and regardless you’ve been a part of getting the team there.” 

“I’ll text him,” Lando promised you, “but I can’t bring myself to watch knowing that someone else is driving my car. I only want to be involved in F1 when I can be part of it, I don’t want to watch it knowing that I’m just going to sit here feeling jealous of everyone else.” 

A sympathetic smile appeared on your face, “let’s spend that time focusing on your recovery instead and getting you back there even quicker.” 

“I’d like that,” Lando mused, watching as you stood up, moving to sit beside Lando instead, allowing your hand to brush through his messy hair in front of his face. 

“I’m proud of you for handling this so well, I can’t begin to imagine how tricky this is,” you told him. “I’m going to be right here with you getting you through the next few weeks, you’re going to be sick of the sight of me nagging you.” 

Lando’s head shook in protest, “I could never get sick of the sight of you, being at home with you is the only pro of having this stupid injury.” 

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you chuckled, as Lando nodded, assuring you that that was how it was intended. “I can’t believe an injury is what it’s taken for me to get you all to myself.” 

“I’m always right by your side,” Lando assured you, “only now it means that I get to annoy you much more than usual.” 

“You’re right...you are pretty annoying,” you teased. 

Lando’s eyes went wide, “hey...I’m injured, you’re supposed to be being nice to me.” 

“I’m always nice to you Lan.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[reginalusus]

Just a sketch that I was too tired to finish... And since it's Father's Day I'm just gonna dump a bunch of my more silly (mostly) headcanons about their dynamic below, teehee.

General - They argue. A lot. About anything. Jason is the instigator. Harvey is almost always correct. - There has been a karaoke battle at some point. - They smoke far too much and smoke breaks are common occurrences during anti-hero outings. They are no longer mere breaks; they are rituals. - One of the only things they are comfortable openly bonding over is their alleged hatred of Bruce - and weapons. - Actually work very well together in combat. Jason's accurate, hard-hitting martial arts expertise and agility compliment Harvey's more elegant and violent approach. Gotham's scumbags are cooked. - They were both slain by Gotham, and reborn. They are now both living their second life - neither want to admit to each other that they find comfort that they're not alone in this. - They will take any opportunity to bring up each other's past interactions; the two-toned car, the two-story building fiasco, the kidnapping, anything. - Jason's biological father is the root cause of their most explosive, brutal fights. Both of them, however, are exhausted and have other shit to worry about, so they avoid this topic as best as they can.

Jason's POV - Teases Harvey about twos, duality and doubles to distract from the horrors. - When angry, will call Harvey 'Apollo' to piss him off. Sometimes it's 'Ex-District Attorney', with emphasis on the 'Ex'. - He doesn't like it very much when Harvey attempts to get close/connect with him; relationships are transactional. At least that's how Jason views them. - Hates being passenger in Harvey's car because he doesn't get any say over the radio. - He does view Harvey as a parental figure, or something like it, but he's conflicted. - Actually appreciates it when Harvey helps him through PTSD episodes. - Sadly, he isn't very good at helping Harvey through dissociation/depressive episodes yet. He sort of stands there like the man emoji. - Will randomly come out with courtroom related lines when Harvey does something bad, like: "Your honour, my client would like to plead Gemini," or "Your honour, in my client's defence, he didn't know the safety lock was off." - Makes jokes about Harvey's thugs all wanting to have 'a night' with Harvey. - Absolutely refuses to call Harvey "dad", even jokingly. He will have sightseen everything in Hell before that happens. - But at the same time he cries out for a father figure, one that is proud of him, that loves him. He secretly loves it when Harvey pats his shoulder or gives an approving nod.

Harvey's POV - Will make jokes about Jason being alive again to distract from the horrors. - When angry, calls Jason 'Robin' or 'Pup' (name of a baby bat) to piss him off. - Tries to bond with Jason - he *wants* to - but he's a big dumbass about it. - Does not understand Jason's music taste and doesn't have any desire to. - Views Jason as the child he never had the chance to have. In a sense, that makes him quite protective of Jason, but he hides this. He tries desperately not to be like his own father. - Is quite good at understanding Jason's emotions; he knows how to deal with his attacks and does, begrudgingly, use tips he learned from his previous therapists. - Doesn't wish to burden Jason with his own episodes. Unfortunately it's not always possible to hide them. - Just as Jason tortures him with puns, Harvey will do it right back. He'll come out with things like, "We only put up with you because you were the SECOND Robin," or "How would you like to die a second time?" - He will stand and stare awkwardly when Jason brings (sneaks) lovers back to the hideout. But he minds his business. - May have accidentally called Jason his son a few times. Or his "kid". But not to Jason directly, only in his talks between himself and Two-Face. - He likes seeing Jason happy. So many kids and young people are let down by Gotham's corruption and he'll be damned if Jason becomes a victim of it (again).

[see-arcane]

You know the one good thing about being a pessimist?

It feels great to be proven wrong.

Bravo, Bobby Egg.

I was so happily surprised by this. This film went through a fantastic puberty between the leaked script and the screen. The main points to note:

-No, Ellen is not hot for Count Orlok. She and Thomas are 110% in love. There are even certain Harker-flavored quotes thrown in to prove as much. (Details under the cut.)

-Count Orlok is a terrifying bastard and a half. Significantly more imposing than classic Orlok’s spindly rigor mortis-stiff figure and only wearing a sliver of Dracula’s performative charm. He is a Devil-Death archetype playing a monster who operates in deceit and contracts to wring out what he wants. That and a lot of corpses.

-This film is so beautiful. No gothic touch is skipped.

In sum, I more than like this film. I love it. It isn’t perfect, because no film can be, but damn. I am so proud of this nightmare you made, Bobby Egg.

SPOILERS FOR Nosferatu (2024) BELOW

-Getting some cons out of the way. There are points where a few of the actors lean maybe a bit too heavy on the ham-and-cheese in their deliveries (I’ll not blame the kids, they’re very young, but yeesh. That’s some cartoon acting.)

Yes, the g-slur is still used; though while I wish it hadn’t appeared in Eggers’ script at all, it does make sense within the context of the setting, i.e. Thomas and the Innkeeper probably only having the one word they know, same as in Dracula. And yes, naked teenage girl-on-a-horse does happen for the vampire hunt scene. Whee.

-Now, an early pro: Eggers nixed the ‘hot teen girl tries to pickpocket Thomas’ bit, and the ‘land of phantoms and thieves’ line never happens. All that happens after Thomas wakes in the inn—post witnessing the vampire slaying in the local graveyard, mud on his shoes to prove it was real—is he discovers himself utterly alone. No people, no horse. Cue the long walk.

-Ellen doing the ‘Come to me,’ bit early on is her in adolescence. It’s revealed that her Weird Girl elements have been turned up to 11, tragic lonely past included (replete with dad threatening to send her to a madhouse), and her prayer was just for company. The psychic ping was picked up by Orlok, who took advantage, turning an isolated and desperate barely-more-than-a-kid’s wish into a ‘covenant.’

-Thomas was met not long after this, cue them being genuinely in love <3

-Knock Does Not Jerk Off On Screen. If he does, his back is to us, and Little Knock is covered with some occult tablet or suchlike while he’s doing his ritual business. Also he kills a guy in his cell. Using his teeth.

-Castle time! Thomas is greeted by a driverless carriage at a crossroads and seems to be hypnotized into stepping in. A lot of things Thomas does once in Orlok’s territory seem to very clearly have psychic puppet strings attached. That and some increasing terror on Thomas’ part. There is no warm Dracula-style welcome from Orlok when he arrives, but a terse and strange leading to the dinner table where paperwork is demanded.

- We get a glimpse of this version of the Count’s ego. Thomas calls him sir. Orlok demands Thomas address him as my lord. And then we get the bread cutting scene. Thomas’ thumb bleeds. Orlok get far too interested. His voice, a very guttural and rasping bass, turns into something closer to an animal trilling and growling. Thomas is paralyzed beside the fire; cut away as Orlok closes in.

-Ellen and Anna Harding have a bit of a Mina and Lucy deal going on at the beach. It’s sweet <3 (Prepare for pain </3)

 - Orlok starts getting tricky. He 1) borrows (steals) Ellen’s locket from Thomas and 2) Tricks Thomas into signing a contract to ‘sell’ Ellen/break their marriage via a strange contract in a language Thomas can’t read, with Orlok using the prop of some gold to imply that this is merely a document in ~his native language~ to complete the property sale. Thomas signs, less for the gold than to be gone from the castle and back to Ellen…only for Orlok to insist Thomas is not well. He must stay the night.

- No mind games here. Just Thomas pleading to leave and Orlok’s parting word being that he will stay, and that he will obey his orders.

-Orlok has already chomped Thomas on the tiddy as of last night. Next night, after Thomas almost lands a blow on him in the coffin—Orlok sleeps with his Orcock out in the box, by the way, alongside several rats—Orlok wills Thomas to unlock the door he shut between them. Cue Thomas being tranced onto the bed, pounced on, and basically dry-humped by Orlok as he drinks Thomas all but dry. Thomas is left that way, only to be woken by Orlok’s wolves—he has those too!—and go clambering out the window, dropping to the river below.

-Orlok makes Ellen’s life hell. Holy fuck. The 1838 quality ‘medicine’ definitely doesn’t help—corsets for correcting posture, draining blood because there’s too much in there, binding to the bedposts to stop sleepwalking, general drugging etc etc—but FUCK. Lily-Rose Depp did a great and terrible job of reproducing shaking fits and some of the faces and sounds she made had me thinking I might choke on my own tongue. And for all the sexually provocative poses/noises that happen, every time she comes out of it it’s clear that she hates this. It’s on par with psychic rape.

-The only times we see Ellen respond positively~ to Orlok’s dream-advances is when she’s telling Thomas about the ‘marrying Death’ dream where everyone died and she was deliriously happy and then the infamous trailer line about Thomas not being able to satisfy her as Orlok can~~~

Well guess what.

Guess fucking what.

That was Orlok leaning on her brain. The same way he did to Thomas when, eventually, after the nuns rescue him and pray the plague/vampirism out and he makes it home while half-dead, he lays in bed with Ellen and gets a panic attack combined with Orlok’s image being grafted over Ellen’s face…

…a reverse of the illusion Orlok gave him in the castle, with Thomas imagining it was Ellen on top of him instead. The effect terrifies Thomas all over again and he unwittingly tosses Ellen away, I can't breathe, get off of me, get off!

-Orlok does his murder snacking. Knock, who escaped, offers to find and kill Thomas to please the Count, literally on his hands and knees. Orlok calls him a dog and backhands him, insisting Ellen must be given, not stolen.

-Orlok has already visited Ellen by this time. He presses her to keep her deal with him. She tells him, flat out, I abhor you. In response, Orlok grabs her and chucks her like a ragdoll in a rage. He fumes, telling her he will give her three nights to pledge herself to him, and in the meantime he will start killing. (RIP to Anna and her little girls, the latter of whom ORLOK KILLS IN FRONT OF HER, EATING THEIR THROATS OUT AS SHE ENTERS THEIR ROOM.)

-Before all that, he spins bullshit about Thomas ~selling her to him for mere gold~. A technical truth that Ellen, mid-Orlok spell, spits back at Thomas amid a rage, along with details that are likewise based in only a granule of reality; but which Orlok did not mention in their scene together. Things like Thomas being weak and childish, that he ‘fell into Orlok’s arms like a fainting woman.’ Interesting choice of spin there, Orlok. But whatever.

This all culminates in what is either reality or a dream or a blend of both as Thomas makes sudden desperate love to her, Ellen weirdly heady about it, telling him yes yes yes they will show Orlok their love. Cue her snapping back to full cognizance (awake? dreaming?) as her eyes and mouth spurt blood in a vision. She collapses in fear and tears as Thomas holds her. AND THEN:

-Ellen. Drops. The I am unclean line. She wants Thomas away from her, she is not worthy, she puts him in danger.

-Thomas goes full Jonathan and clings to her. Nonsense. I love you. I love you. I love you.

-V i n d i c a t i o n

-Anyway.

-Dafoe-Von Franz-Van Helsing is a kooky science occultist. Finds a book that Knock had which fills the role of highlighting Orlok as Solomonari (hey, Scholomance shout out!) and Knock as a would-be beneficiary. Also includes the ‘maiden offers her body and blood to the monster to kill it via sunrise’ bit.

-While he reads this, he does NOT actually spell any of these details out to Ellen when they have their secret mini talk about tricking Thomas into hunting for the coffin with him and Sievers. He gives her a big ~you're the only one who can save us magic maiden martyr~ pep talk, but that's it. Meanwhile, Ellen was already preparing to offer herself to save Thomas and whoever’s left in Wisborg. Not the same kind of agency as the original, but still better than I was expecting.

-Harding, Thomas’ rich friend whose wife and children got drinked to death, dies of plague in the family tomb. They burn the bodies.

-In the ruin Orlok bought, cue the iron stake slamming down as they open the coffin..! But whoops. Knock’s in the box, not Orlok. Von Franz says Ellen offering herself is the only way~ Thomas doesn’t waste time throttling him, just makes a run for their home.

-Too late, of course. Orlok is there (with a very cool homage to the original stalking shadow silhouette routine) and Ellen welcomes him. While they are both naked in bed and it’s implied that they are/or intend to have sex, the bulk of the scene centers on Orlok taking Ellen’s blood from her breast. No clear shot of the Orcock on screen for that bit—Bobby Egg saved that pleasure for the Count flashing Thomas at the castle.

-Orlok’s death throes. Are so. Fucking. Cool. Definitely up there with one of the best vampiric demises I’ve ever seen on film. No spoilers there. You’ve got to see it.

-Heartbreak o’ Clock as Thomas bursts in just as Orlok has died and as Ellen is dying under him. There’s time for them to hold hands. And then she’s gone.

-We close on Von Franz popping up with some poetic soliloquy shit and a bunch of lilacs. The final beat is an overhead shot of Ellen, the Maiden, laying under the now-skeletal Orlok, as Death. Looks almost like a painting. Unlike the implication in the leaked script, she does not look happy/at peace. Simply asleep. The End.

-Other important notes:

1) Orlok has a little combover’s worth of hair on top and mighty and powerful ‘stache. Not Dracula-white, but it is there. Finally.

 2) The guy who plays Dr. Sievers has Alan Rickman’s voice. If he isn’t in opera, he should be.

3) I was too late to get a popcorn coffin box. I shall be in mourning until the New Year.

4) Bobby Egg if you can give me one more gift, let it be a deleted scene of Thomas beating Von Franz over the head with the iron stake, please and thank you <3

[sukirichi]

𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 | 𝐒. 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮

— in which you and your fuck buddy pretend to date, which totally won’t lead to feelings at all, right?

content / warnings. toxic college settings. explicit smut. MINORS DNI. choking. exhibitionism. fingering. making out. masturbation. voyeurism. toxic characters. reverse cowgirl riding. implied dub-con. friends with benefits. fake dating. unedited.

dedicated to @kyriaan

The sixth beep of your phone that cursed morning had you shuffling around your bag for the device, fishing it out and muting it with exasperation. To no one’s surprise, he was the sole topic again. Oikawa this and Oikawa that — how he’d be such a great boyfriend to you and your friends could also go on dates with his equally charismatic friends; you were tired of hearing the same thing over and over again.

“Funny seeing you here,” a bored voice drawled out, the scraping of a chair against the floor snapping you to your senses. “Never in my whole life did I imagine I’d find you hiding in a library of all places — are you reading Freud? His theories are shit. They’re not even scientifically proven.”

You raised a brow at Suna Rintaro, your not-so friend friend.

You and Rintaro had a strict friends with benefits relationship.

It started with meeting at a party once when you needed a release from the stress of finals, you made out on the crowded dance floor and found yourselves tangled in the sheets with barely any memory of the night before. The rest was history. Soon, you ran into him more often than you’d expected, and it wasn’t long before you added his name into speed dial.

Funnily enough, you weren’t that close to him.

You either knew everything about him or knew little to nothing. Most of the time you spent with Rintaro would be when you two were drunk out of your minds, bodies too occupied with moving against one another that ‘getting to know each other’ had never been a thing.

For some reason, however, Rintaro was someone you could trust with your whole heart. You just wouldn’t date him because you weren’t looking for a relationship, and neither was he.

Both of you loved the arrangement you had now.

“Why do you know so much about Freud? I just randomly picked up this book.”

Rintaro shrugged, “‘Hooked up with a girl in Psychology once; she was pretty hot, but you’re still my favourite,” winking, he chewed on his gum before snatching the book away from you.

A protest nearly fell from your mouth when a mop of wavy, dark hair sauntered inside the library, taking long, confident strides as he chatted with Iwaizumi. Eyes widening, you ducked your head behind Suna, desperately clutching the hoodie clad on his stiff back.

Rintaro glanced downwards at you, “You’re hiding like you murdered somebody’s pet. Should I be worried or should I help you in hiding someone’s body?”

“Literally shut up. Oikawa is right there.”

“Oikawa... Tooru?” following your line of sight, Rintaro’s back slouched at the same time his lips curled into a mischievous smile. You could tell he was stifling his laughter; the vibrations of his back spoke enough of his urge to betray you. “Oh, he’s looking here. At you, I might say — care to explain?”

“I have nothing to explain to you. We’re not even friends.”

“Ouch,” Rintaro clutched at his chest, “That hurt. Weren’t you at my dorm like five nights in a row last week? You didn’t want me to leave the bed either. I thought we had something special!”

“Suna Rintaro, I am not fucking around with you. Shut up. I swear if Oikawa walks here, I’m never talking to you again.”

As if to prove a point, you plopped until your upper body squished against his back and the chair, cheeks puffing out in frustration as Rintaro sighed. “Okay, you don’t have to explain anything to me, but come on. You’re using me as a human shield and I have zero context on what’s going on,” he tapped your thigh, head slightly tilted to the side with a wary eye out for Oikawa. “Listen, if he’s bothering you, I could deal with it. He looks like the type of guy who doesn’t know what ‘no’ means so if that’s the case, stop hiding. I can help you with it. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

Your grip on his hoodie listened. Peering up from the bottom of your lashes, you nervously licked your lips. “Wait... you mean that? You’ll really help me?”

“Yeah! You send me nudes that motivate me to ace my exams so this is the least I could do.”

“You just have to make everything sexual, don’t you?” you rolled your eyes and ignored Rintaro’s shameless smile. Scanning the room, you glared at Oikawa’s direction before sitting up and gluing yourself to Rintaro’s hip, whose brow raised but said nothing otherwise. “Okay, so the thing is... my friends may or may not have set me up with Oikawa. They kind of gave him false hope I’m really into him — which I never will be because he has a shitty personality — but he’s not having any of it. He insisted I should go with him on just one date, and if I still don’t change my mind about him, then he won’t push further. Otherwise, he really doesn’t take no for an answer. He’s everywhere that I ended up blurting out I was already dating someone.”

Rintaro rested his chin on his palm. “That’s a lot of information to take in,” he mused, “So... you need help in finding a fake boyfriend, is that it?”

“About that,” with guilt written all over your face, you scratched the back of your neck and chuckled, making sure to avoid eye contact the entire time. “You were the first one to come to mind so I told him I was dating the middle blocker from his team. The uhm, guy who stays up until three am fighting in Twitter threads.”

Rintaro’s jaw dropped. “No way,” he clicked his tongue, hands coming up to ball beside your cheeks as he fought the desire to squeeze your cheeks. Meanwhile, you blinked at him innocently, lower lip jutted out in hopes you’d appease him — which more or less worked as he slumped in his seat. “I can’t believe you dragged me into this.”

“I didn’t have a choice!”

“You did and you chose to date me!” Rintaro hissed under his breath, “Jeez, if you wanted us to be official, you could’ve said so. I would’ve thought about it,” exhaling through his nose, Rintaro pushed his hair back, his head too much of a mess to notice you getting flustered. “Fine. I’ll be your fake boyfriend, but don’t you dare fall in love with me. Our condition when we started sleeping together was that we’re limited to casual relationships only. I like our arrangement already, and you mean a lot to me as a friend so I don’t want to lose you, alright? Whatever we’re doing, it’s all going to be an act.”

“Deal,” you shook his hand, face lighting up at how it didn’t take much to convince him. “Now go to the party with me tonight. We’ll show Oikawa why he can’t have me.”

The sight of bodies grinding onto another and music blaring through the speakers weren’t new to you and Rintaro. You’d both seen the same scene a thousand times before, having been part of that crowd at one point. Yet, tonight felt different from rest. The music felt muted as you walked through the door with Rintaro’s hand down on your waist, the stench of alcohol and sex overpowered by the musky perfume your fake boyfriend wore.

You couldn’t think clear around him.

You tried to blame it on the jitters that set your nerves on fire, anxiety pooling in your stomach at the thought Oikawa made it clear he wanted to see you tonight.

Of course, you weren’t stupid. Knowing the guy infamous for his reputation for sleeping around and changing partners like they were his clothes, he wouldn’t give up once he had his eyes set on someone. It just so happened that unfortunate person had to be you.

“Relax,” Rintaro breathed into your ear, pulling you closer by the hip when you weaved through the people nearly fucking on the floor. The sudden gesture had you jolting for a split second. Blinking, Rintaro’s reassuring smile greeted you with a tinge of amusement, his gaze tracing down your nails forming crescent moons on his arm. “Do you really have to cling to me all night?”

“We’re supposed to be a couple madly in love, remember?” you reminded with a bounce of your heel, surveying the throng of people milling in and out of the frat house in search of Oikawa.  “You should kiss me too as soon as we see him. Then he’ll stop bothering me and we can be over with this fiasco.”

“Asking just in case, but how should I kiss you? Like a peck?”

“Kiss me like you want the whole world to know I’m yours,” you said nonchalantly, not thinking too much of it since this was supposed to be an act. Until a horde of loud males started cheering as soon as they entered the room, the crowd welcoming Oikawa and his friends warmly when Rintaro suddenly grabbed you by the wrist, twisting you to face him. The last thing you saw before Rintaro tilted his head to the side to press his lips to yours was the look of utter horror on Oikawa’s face.

Although, honestly, who cared? Rintaro tasted like beer and strawberries, his musky scent clouding your senses that your eyes closed in response.

Knees weakening, you grabbed onto Rintaro’s shoulders to steady yourself, gasping into his greedy lips when you felt him squeeze your hip possessively. You groaned into the kiss, your hands running up to play with the ends of his hair as Rintaro’s back hit the wall, his bent leg trapped between your thighs. He quickly took the chance and nudged his knee on your clothed pussy. Your skirt grazed against your sensitive core that you attempted to pull away to breathe, but Rintaro wasn’t having any of it.

Smirking beneath you, Rintaro hooked a finger into the chains dangling from your skirt and pulled you flush against him. You had no time to react before he was pushing a tongue past your lips. Warm, wet muscles danced against each other as Rintaro memorized the taste of you the same way you did for him — not a single care about air anymore when he made those low, deep whimpers setting fire to your loins.

But just as soon as you leaned in for more, his hair tugged backward to deepen the kiss, Rintaro pulled away. “That’s how I’d kiss you if I were your boyfriend,” he declared, pads of his thumb swiping against his moist lip swollen from the little nips you gave him — the look of pleasure and satisfaction displayed all over his handsome face that told you how much he enjoyed your needy whines.

You gaped at him, your skin burning from being edged.

Rintaro flicked you on the forehead. “Don’t look at me like that. You asked me to kiss like I wanted to let the world know your mine, and he was looking. Besides, we need to show someone who you belong to, right?” pushing his weight off the wall, Rintaro lightly bit your earlobe as you breathed hard, his sharp, cold gaze focused on a flushed red Oikawa standing across the room. “I have a better idea if you’re up for it.”

Arms crossed against your chest, you wrapped your arms around his waist in faux affection, when in reality you only needed to hear what he said through the loud music. “What do you have in mind?” The smirk on Rintaro’s face was as loud as a warning siren.

“Turn around.”

Even if you didn’t want to, Rintaro wasn’t asking. He spun you around by the shoulders, your back flushed against his chest when you felt his knee nudge between your legs once more. His fingers calloused from playing volleyball snaked past your thigh and dangerously close to your heated pussy. “This is what I had in mind,” he whispered, his voice sending tingles straight down your spine. “Let’s burn that pretty face of yours into his head. Show him what he can’t have.”

Your dignity told you to say no. To be fingered in public like this was less than ideal, even more so when your lace panties dangerously flashed into view. Yet, you found yourself arching your back to retaliate.

Ass nudging against Rintaro’s hardening cock, you smirked upon hearing his low groans. One palm cupped your ass as a warning before he playfully snapped your underwear against your thigh, a wince painting your half fucked out features from the sting. Glancing at him from the side, you sneered, about to protest when he wiggled his free hand and cupped your pussy.

Your mouth hung open.

Oikawa’s drink fell from his hands. No longer was he paying any attention to his friends, rather on the way you keened and your tongue threatening to loll out your lips the moment Rintaro’s thumb flicked your clit.

“You’re such a naughty slut. Who knew you were into this?”

“He’s watching, Rintaro,” you whimpered, gripping at his wrist like he wasn’t knuckle deep in your pants already. “Someone could see and think we’re—”

“That’s the point,” lowering his mouth onto your neck, you gasped at his teeth sinking down on the skin. Behind you, you could hear the hand on your ass disappear at the sounds of a belt unbuckling, fuelling your imagination to both the best and worst scenarios. Rintaro wasn’t far behind in his surprise as were you; you never expected you’d enjoy giving someone a show either, much less cum on the spot the second Rintaro’s cock slipped inside you. “Aw, fuck, did you just come undone for me? I haven’t even done anything yet.”

You shook your head, palms slippery with sweat as you held onto his slick hands squeezing your waist. The music was no longer audible from the pounding of your heart. Hell, you could barely feel your legs when Rintaro mumbled something incoherent around you before he guided your connected bodies onto a nearby couch.

Plopping down with your weight on top of him, you held onto his knees for dear life. Rintaro settled on the leather couch occupied by a stoned student laughing by himself, the latter’s chuckles halting when he was greeted by the sight of your hazy eyes and pants falling from your mouth. Meanwhile, Rintaro rested his arms on the back of his head. He didn’t have to lift a finger, much less give a command for you to know he wanted you to ride him right here — if you looked straight across, Oikawa would be right before you a few feet away, his frown deeply engraved into his face.

“Rin, I...”

He sat up in a flash at the hesitance in your voice, warm hands wrapping around your waist protectively. It took you a second to realize he hid his nestled cock from everyone’s prying eyes in case you weren’t comfortable, but the gesture did nothing but make you clench around him harder — both from the anxiety and anticipation.

You’d never admit it out loud, but you wanted people to watch. You wanted him to see Rintaro had total control over your body, no matter how humiliating the situation might be.

“Do you want us to stop? Should we go somewhere else?”

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you bent your legs to rest beside his thighs, fingers looping around the ones hooked under your breast to steady yourself before you lifted your hips, then slammed back down. Again and again, until sweat dripped from your head to your jaw, you kept eye contact with a red-faced Oikawa. All the while as you bounced on Rintaro’s dick and threw your head back, laughing with your whole chest at the lights spinning from the ceiling since it reminded you of the seventh heaven you were in.

Rintaro let you go at your own pace, his grunts and garbled utterances of your name blending with the party wilding from the background. You could feel him twitching inside of you. His cock bumped and grazed your walls until the tip kissed a particular sensitive spot that had you losing your balance for a moment, nails digging into his ripped jeans to catch your breath.

“Goddamn,” Rintaro cursed, stealing away your ability to breathe with his hand snaking into your neck. “You dirty fucking slut, getting off to acting like a whore in front of the whole campus, huh? Go on. Show them how you’re such a whore for my cock.”

You couldn’t swallow down your words.

Rintaro’s grip on your neck had you on a literal chokehold, strong enough to deprive you of air and tighten around him, but not to a point you felt lightheaded. If anything, the power he displayed only fuelled you to ride him harder. Drawing figure eights with your hip, you could feel drool smearing your lipstick as the red stains smudged against Rintaro’s palm, the sound of slick and skin slapping against skin like music to your ears.

Only Rintaro could ever make you feel this way.

From the night you’d met him, each time you fucked would be the best experience of your life. Not once had he failed in bringing you over the edge or experimenting with the most absurd positions you’d never thought of before, and now you were returning the favour.

You rode his cock like it was your last mission. ‘Death by cock’ didn’t sound like such an unfavourable thing either, not when it meant losing yourself in his thick girth spreading you wide and the lewd sight of your cum sticking to his thighs. His jeans were a mess, but Rintaro never complained. He didn’t care then, and he wouldn’t care now. Seeing you dirty his clothes, your sweat dampening his shirt and your own cum coating his cock like a rewarding trophy of what felt like the best night of his life — Rintaro didn’t give a single fuck about the mess.

“F-Fuck, Rin, I’m coming!”

Rintaro held your waist, taking over with complete control as he slammed your hips up and down his twitching cock, curses falling back and forth from his mouth. “Cum on me,” he ordered. Resting his chin on your shoulders, Rintaro’s other hand twisted your jaw in the direction of Oikawa biting his lip, his hand suspiciously following your movements from under the luminescent lights. “Look at that dirty fucker. Let’s show him what he missed out on, yeah?”

A burst of warmth exploded inside you. You were too stunned to move, thighs burning from the ache that you accepted it with delight before falling back into Rintaro’s chest. “That was the best fuck of my life,” you admitted through lidded eyes, “But we’re fucked tomorrow. The whole campus is going to talk about us.”

“Let them.”

Post-nut clarity hit you hard like a truck.

Albeit expecting the rumours and looks you’d be getting the next day, the blatant impressed stares mixed with some envious ones never got easier by the end of classes. Everywhere you went, people would be whispering. But like Rintaro always used to say each time you cried to him, there’d be light at the end of the tunnel, because the best part of it all that made everything worth it?

Oikawa avoided you like the plague. Not because he was appalled of what he’d witnessed and what he’d done, but rather word spread out how he’d been rejected.

For the first time in his life, Oikawa Tooru felt humiliation, at the hands of his own teammate, no less — something Rintaro took pride in when you crashed by his room that night.

“You should’ve seen the look on his face. It was priceless,” he snickered while scrolling through the phone, about to comment when the door swung open, revealing a carbon copy replica of Rintaro. In female version.

Rintaro quickly shot out of bed and threw a blanket over your head, stalking to the girl standing with her mouth hanging ajar at the door. “What are you doing here? I thought you guys wouldn’t be home until the weekend. Plus, how’d the fuck you get inside the dorms? You’re not supposed to be here, Remi.”

Remi ignored him. “Are you hiding your girlfriend? Mom needs to know about this, she’d love to meet her!”

That was how you found yourself stuck to Rintaro in a cramped booth with his family not an hour later. You awkwardly picked at your food, stealing glances at an equally silent Rintaro while his younger sister, Remi, kept babbling about how her brother hid a girlfriend this whole time. His family went out of town for business for a while, but since they got home earlier, they decided to surprise Rintaro with a visit.

He sure was surprised, and so were you since they hadn’t stopped calling you ‘dear’ ever since.

His parents were nice — they warmly welcomed you and even invited you to have dinner with them sometime at their house. Mrs. Suna would whip up a meal to welcome you as part of their family, saying that you should consider it a thanks for making their son smile. Remi was the most excited out of all them. She’d been wanting an older sister for a while now, and she hadn’t stopped clinging onto your arm the whole time until her parents forcefully snatched her away when it was time go back home.

The entire walk back to the dorms felt suffocating.

None of you spoke a word, not until you arrived at your building and Rintaro shoved his hands down his pockets, swinging back and forth on his feet. “So... are you free this Friday? You should come have dinner with us.”

“You’re seriously asking me that?”

“Why not? You’re invited. Don’t be rude and not go.”

“It’s not being rude, Rintaro, you’re asking me to lie to your parents,” you snapped, halting in your tracks to stare at him in disbelief. “They adored me all because they think I’m dating you, but we’re not the least bit close to that. We just fuck and call it day, maybe hang out when we’re bored, but we don’t know each other at all. And weren’t you the one who told me that we can’t be more than just fuck buddies?”

Rintaro rolled his eyes. “You’re right, but I agreed to pretend to be your boyfriend to push Oikawa away. Now do me a favour and keep up with the fake girlfriend thing. My parents will be devastated if I tell them we’re not real.”

“I don’t want to lie to them!”

“It’s not a big deal! Why’re you making a mountain out of everything? So because the deal on my side doesn’t require fucking, you’ll back out just like that?”

Your mouth hung open in shock. “It’s because I don’t want to be your fake girlfriend, Rintaro, I want to date you for real!” you blurted out, eyes widening at the same time Rintaro’s cheeks flushed. Realizing what you just said, you inwardly regretted it with a grimace. “I’m sorry. You said we can’t be more than that and I know I just ruined our friendship, but I’m really sorry. I can’t bring myself to lie to your family like that, and I don’t want to lie about my feelings either,” hanging your head down low, you bit the insides of your cheeks. No matter what you said, you couldn’t take it back anymore.

“Rintaro, I like you. You make me happy and I want to do the same for you, but I understand if we’re done now. It was nice to have met you.”

Without waiting for his response, you ran back into the building when a hand wrapped around your wrist. You stared at the long fingers and to the arm connected to it, heart sinking into your chest when you came face to face with Rintaro’s handsome face.

“You didn’t even give me a chance to speak.”

“I’m sure you don’t want to be near me, Rintaro.”

Rintaro sniffed, averting the intensity of your gaze and shrugging his shoulders shly. “On the contrary... I’d like to spend every waking minute with you,” he mumbled so soft that you wouldn’t have heard it if you didn’t listen hard enough, but you did, and you were left gaping at him with warmth spreading through your skin. You stood there, watching as Rintaro laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head. “Sorry if I said that a little too late, but yes. I’d like to be your real boyfriend. Then I can fuck you exclusively because I don’t think I like the idea of you riding other people like that.”

You swatted his arm away with a laugh. “That’s the reason you want to date me?”

“There’s other reasons too like how I love talking to you and I want to get to know you more,” he cupped your face, grinning when his palms felt the warmth emanating from your skin. “And also, I want to do this more with you.”

Leaning down, Rintaro kissed you under the flickering lights of your hallway, the both of your lips stretching into a smile. In a way, you were thankful your friends tried setting you up with someone else, because if you’d known it would lead you to realizing your feelings for Rintaro, you would’ve asked him to date you a little earlier.

[chris-prank]

A desperate yandere in your area

Chapter 3 : A new pet

Sub pathetic yandere x GN reader

Previous chapter - Next chapter

(This is a work of fiction for entertainment purposes only, I do not support yandere behaviors in real life)

CW: NSFW, praise kink, teasing, porn with plot, petplay, obsessive behaviour, yandere, mention of stalking, giving head/eating out, dom reader, receiving reader, bottoming reader and use of protection

(Even if the reader is bottoming at some point I made it vague enough so you can imagine which whole is being used.)

Word count: Over 3K

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As stupid as it was, you didn’t call the police.

There you were, sitting in front of your phone, debating if you were making the right choice or not. You finally took it and called the coffee shop, cutely named “Brioche d'Or”. You jumped in your seat when a cheery voice answered.

“You have called Brioche d’Or! I’m Pierre, how can I help you today?”

“Can I speak to Jacce…please?”

“Yes absolutely, could I get your name?”

You told the employee your name and heard shuffling on the other end of the line, before you could faintly hear him say “You’re more popular than I thought!” You had to suppress a chuckle, because by that time, Jacce had taken the phone from Pierre. 

“H-hey, you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yes, at what time could you come to my place today?”

Silence fell on the other line, except for his heavy breathing. Even if you weren’t in front of him, it's like you could feel the warmth of his breath through the handset.

“Is 3 pm alright?” his voice sounded choked, as if he had runned out of air. 

You hummed in response and swiftly told him goodbye, hanging up before he could answer. Your face was burning hot and your heart was hammering in your chest. You looked at the time. You had five hours until he arrived. 

***

The moment you heard knocking on the door you took a deep breath. The man standing at your doorstep was towering over you with the most nervous, but strangely excited, expression on his face. You didn't even give him the chance to open his mouth as you pulled him inside. When the front door was shut close, Jacce leaned in on you– expecting you to kiss him. You awkwardly turned your head to the side while pressing your hands on his chest to prevent him from getting closer. He tilted his head, confused, but you could see some arousal in them, surely due to your touch.

“Let's go to the living room.” You whispered, feeling like your lungs were crushed by the proximity. 

As you sat down on the couch, Jacce remained standing, giving you quick glances as if he was waiting for you to say something. 

“You can sit, you know.”

To your surprise, he sat on the ground instead of taking a place beside you or in any other chair available. You could feel your lower half warm up instantly at his actions. You scolded yourself mentally for being turned on by a simple action, but it didn’t prevent you from imagining the most blasphemous scenarios. You cough the thoughts away before opening your mouth again. 

“Ok so, I thought about you becoming my… you know…”

It was out of the question for you to say “pet” or “servant”, this whole situation was already lewd enough with him kneeled down before you. Luckily Jacce nodded without saying the quiet part out loud. 

“I guess it was pretty obvious since I invited you here… " You laughed awkwardly as you felt the heat rise up to your face. 

In the meanwhile, Jacce kept staring up at you with this submissive look, accentuated by his down turned eyes. He was really making it hard for you to think straight. It was almost like his body language was screaming at you to kiss him already. 

"Does that mean I can… live with you from now on?" He asked, tilting his head. 

You froze at the question. Even if this guy had clearly shown that he wished to be yours, you didn’t realize it meant living together as well. You blamed your touch depraved self for not thinking any of this through. 

"Oh em… I didn’t think about that part… Don’t you have an apartment or something?”

“I have a house actually, but it’s ok… I want to be with you.”

You look at him stunned, how could he talk about leaving his house behind like it was nothing!? Especially in this economy! Maybe he was hoping for you to move in with him one day, but you had other things to worry about for now. 

“I guess you could live here if you promise to do what I say."

Jacce nodded with clear eagerness, and you swore you saw his pupils dilate as he spoke again. “I p-promise! I’ll do anything just to stay by your side. " 

As threatening as that last part sounded, you felt honored that someone would go that far just for you. You also mentally winced, you had no time to unpack all the childhood trauma that could have led you to think this way. 

“So no more stalking if I tell you to?”

He seemed to ponder at first, but ultimately agreed, “I won’t need to anyway since I am yours now, but y-yay I’ll stop.” 

“And no more secretly touching yourself while watching me?”

He shook his head up and down quickly. You could feel the lust and impatience taking control of him the more time he was spending in your presence, his entire face getting flustered by the second. You wanted the same thing then him at that moment, but it was crucial to establish rules and you had one more in mind. 

"Before settling this, I need to make something very clear. I know you want to pleasure me and all, but I don’t want you to force yourself when you’re not in the mood. "

"But—"

"Ah ah. No but, If I’m not one hundred percent sure you want it to, we won’t do anything. No arguing with that. Say that you will always be honest."

Despite Jacce being visibly shocked, not understanding why you wouldn’t want to use him without his input, a part of him was touched. If that wasn't proof of your love for him, he didn’t know what else could prove it. 

“I will… always be honest about my mood…” He said slowly, almost like a child being forced to admit a fault they committed. 

“Good and now that’s cleared, do you want to continue where we left off last—.”

“YES!”

You were caught off guard by the sudden rise of his voice, but you were more surprised by his lack of action. You expected Jacce to jump on you like a dog in heat, but no, instead he was twitching his hips forward into the air with his tongue slightly sticking out. He had been a well behaved boy ever since he got here now that you think about it. He certainly deserved a treat. 

You started unzipping your pants as the kneeled man watched your every move, his body trembling in anticipation. You took your pants off, followed by your underwear, grinning at the little whimper he let out at the sight of your private parts. You tapped your thighs, and the man immediately crawled to settle between your legs, licking his lips. You couldn’t help but grin at the lewd display.

"Pleaseee can I lick?" He whined as his gaze was still fixated on your arousal. 

A soft yes escaped your mouth, as you prepared yourself mentally. He leaned forward and took your core into his mouth, slowly swirling his tongue around while his hands caressed your thighs.  

“Good boy.” You cooed. 

Jacce moaned and continued to move his head eagerly, covering every bit with saliva. He felt a wave of ecstasy wash over him as he tasted you on his tongue. His free hand reached down to pull his cock out of his pants, making it stand tall against his clothes stomach. The second he was done, Jacce’s hands went to cup your thighs again, gripping the soft flesh possessively. He was using his mouth like a pro, making you wonder if he had done this before or if he just… practiced with toys.

After a while of him servicing you like an obedient little puppy, you couldn’t hold back the burning desire residing in your guts anymore. 

It was too much. He was too much.

So you placed your hands behind his head, slowly taking a fist full of his hair. The soft gesture made Jacce moan between your legs, thinking you were petting him as a result of his devotion. If only he knew that it was hiding a less innocent intention. 

"Jacce I really need to… "

He seemed to finally understand what you were trying to do since his grip on you disappeared and he stopped moving his head. Jacce stared up at you through his eyelashes, waiting for you to sink into your desires. You leisurely started to move your hips so as not to startle him, but quickly picked up the pace. The man under you kept making loud sounds of pleasure despite your roughness. The vibration on your sensitive skin stimulated your arousal even more. Even with the tears forming in the corner of his eyes, Jacce’s cock couldn’t stop leaking. If his mouth wasn’t occupied right now, he would have gone on and on about how much he loved you. 

While lost in the overwhelming sensations, your mind was suddenly reminded to check on the guy choking under you. You swiftly looked down with your eyelids halfway closed. If anything, his rolled back eyes and the fact that he was still trying to touch you in other ways were good indicators that he was enjoying this as much as you were. In spite of his visible enthusiasm, you pulled away to let him breathe, which made him whine in disappointment. Now that his head was out of the way, you were also able to see his swollen dick pulsing like crazy, precum oozing out of it to complete the look. Knowing he could get this hard by simply servicing you was making him even more attractive. 

"Look at you… not touching yourself because I didn’t allow you too. " You answer between shortness of breath, “I think you deserve to… to feel good with me now.” 

***

You lowered yourself until the tip of his glans brushed against your hole. You wrapped your fingers at the base of his cock and patted it against your entrance. Jacce winced at the contact, or in better terms, the painful lack of it. 

“Please please please, let… let me be inside. Pleaseee.” He begged, trying his hardest to keep his hips down. 

“You need to be patient, Jacce.” You reminded him while ignoring his pleas. 

You weren’t much better to be honest. The thought of fucking him stupid clouded your mind since that time you gave him a hand job. Your self control was all for show since you didn’t want to look like a desperate pervert in front of him. That was his job. 

After some more teasing, you finally sunk down onto his dick, gritting your teeth as it stretched you out. The both of you let out moans at the pleasurable sensation. The feeling of his hard cock inside you was already overwhelming all your senses. 

“Does it Ngh– hurt? Do you w-want… to stop?”

Despite his worried tone, his facial expression and heavy breathing gave away how blissed out he was. He also kept making small whines ever since his cock was surrounded by your warmth, not to mention that his cock also pulsated non stop against your walls. 

“I’m ok. You're just… thick.” You answered vaguely, too embarrassed to admit how he was stuffing you up perfectly. 

Pride overtook him, knowing that his dick would definitely grace all of your sensitive spots. That’s what he was made for, to be used by you until he breaks and to be an obedient pet that feels fulfilled by making you happy. 

Only when you felt your insides adjusted to his shape did you raise your hips slowly, before dropping yourself with all your weight. You kept that pace, all the while admiring his face twist in pleasure. 

“I’m yours!" He cried out instinctively in a quivering voice, "a-all yours!"

To keep yourself bouncing rhythmically, one of your hands went to his shoulder. You cupped his face with the other, gently caressing his cheek to compensate how ruthless you were with his cock. Jacce looked at you through his messy hair and fuck he had the most dazed expression. He couldn’t help but whimper loudly and nuzzle his head into your touch. You expected him to say something again as he opened his mouth, but instead he started sucking on your thumb as he kept up your gaze.

“Such a good puppy for me.” You praised while bouncing faster. 

The mess under you moaned and gasped as new waves of pleasure hit his nervous system. The sound of your ass hitting the flesh of his thigh became louder from your swift movements, almost overshadowing the cute sounds Jacce couldn’t keep to himself. He had stopped sucking your finger, to your disappointment, but it looked like he was actually trying to say something now. You leaned closer, making sure to let your warm breath graze his skin. 

“Come on, I know you can use your words.”

The mess under you made multiple whines in response. You were so cruel to force him to speak like a proper human being when his brain was clearly far too gone to create any coherent sentences. You glanced down and saw how hard he was clenching his hands, both resting onto the soft material of the sofa. So you slowed down a bit, allowing him to speak his mind. Jacce swallowed the drool that had accumulated in his mouth, before answering as best as he could. 

“If you go Mngh— this fa-fast, I won’t… Ah ah… be able to keep it in like a good bo— Unff.” His breath had drastically quickened, confirming his complaints. 

“So sensitive.” You teased, while sneaking a hand under his shirt to go play with his nipples. 

“Aargh— mmff!” Jacce leaned up to trap you in a strong embrace, preventing you from stimulating him further, “w-would be too m-much.” He sobbed into the fabric of your clothes. 

Taking pity on him, and totally not turned on even more by his behavior, you wiggled your hand out of between your chests and cupped the back of his head. Jacce's body and grip eased up as the gentle tingle of your touch took its effects on him. 

“Thank’you…” He muttered in that whiny tone that made you go crazy. 

“Now, how about I let you choose the rhythm?” You grin mischievously, knowing the kind of reaction it would get out of him. Just as you expected, Jacce’s eyes opened wide and you could see a glint of excitement in them. 

“A-are you sure? I… I really can?” 

You hummed in response while guiding one of his hands to your waist. To feel his trembling touch against your exposed skin made your stomach twist in that familiar urge to turn him into a crying mess. But no. You wanted his first time with you to be more relaxed. The humiliation of making him cum prematurely would come later, if he’s on board with it, which you're pretty sure he would. 

Meanwhile, your puppy didn’t need more for his fingers to dig into your flesh and his hips to tentatively roll up to meet with your pelvis. Jacce’s eyes closed from the spark of pleasure, but only for him to force them open so he could admire your complexion. He had spent enough time imagining your face alone in his room, and now that he had the real deal in front of him he was going to enjoy every second of it. 

“Lov’you… M-mine…ngh—” He muttered in a whiny voice, only to repeat mine over and over again, louder each time. 

You couldn’t tell if it was a statement on his part or if he was looking for your approval. Either way you found the contrast between his possessive words and his pathetic attitude endearing. He could say that as much as he wanted, but you both knew that, at the end of the day, he was more yours than anything else. 

Jacce started grinding up on your ass desperately, as if you were a magnet he couldn’t pull away from. His brain couldn’t think of anything else than the ecstasy coursing through his body every time his shaft was engulfed inside you once more. For someone who wanted you to go slow in the fear of cumming prematurely, he was going strangely fast now. Both of your hands grasped at his shoulder as not to go flying off because of the unfaltering movements of his hips. It would undeniably leave marks, especially with how your fingernails were pressed into his skin, not that he minded. It would be concrete proof that he was yours and that this wasn’t just a hyper-realistic wet dream. 

Jacce’s body shuddered uncontrollably as he tried his best to not cum right then and there. He needed to be a good boy for you. Meaning he needed your permission to cum, especially since it would be his first time with you. But more importantly, he needed you to climax first. To think he didn’t get the chance to taste it on his tongue earlier made him pout for a second. He was more than grateful that you wanted him to feel good too, but still, your pleasure was his priority!

“I-I need ngff… your c-cum Ah ah— p-please cum with me!”

Lucky for him, you were also close to your breaking point, the feeling in your guts ready to explode into a million pieces. 

“Yes puppy, l-let’s cum together.” You whisper back with a breathless voice.

One of your hands left it’s post to touch yourself down there, as best as you could anyway considering the way you were bouncing up and down on his cock. Your insides instantly tightened around him as sensation, pulling new sounds out of him. It was just the right push to tension to finally let go. 

Your body froze, and you had him in a vice grip, his dick and his shoulder alike. With your head thrown back, a shrill moan escaped your lips. This was the only signal Jacce needed to finish as well, his hips snapping back in short but swift motions. He emptied every last drop of his cum inside the rubber condom. His last moan, if it could even be qualified as such, was mixed with the start of your name, but ended with a pathetic whine. 

As Jacce came back to his senses, he could feel an uncontrollable smile forming on his lips. It was the first time you came because of him and he was feeling euphoric. Now that he got a taste of being the source of your guttural desires, there was no way he would ever leave you. He could feel his heart beating drum in his ears as his infatuation for you grew exponentially. He placed lazy kisses on your collar, his way of hiding his manic grin, and mumbled words of love. 

The wet sensation on your skin grounded you back to reality as you leaned into him. Never in your life you thought you could have the opportunity to make a grown man submit to you like this and, despite the unorthodox circumstances that brought you together, you were truly satisfied. As the aftershock of tiredness hit you, Jacce nuzzled his head into your neck, like a dog wanting to be petted for doing a trick right. 

“I’m… really yours now?” He said in a hush tone. You had noticed that every time he was in a more submissive headspace, his voice would have a whiny quality to it. Not to the length of being annoying, but just enough to sound cuter than his usual raspy voice. 

You lifted your hand to rub his back in circles.

“Yes.” 

Jacce moaned happily in response, leaning his heavy self more onto you.

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So so sorry for the late update! I hope it was worth the long wait!

Link for the chapter on Ao3

Also no drawing for this chapter! 😔 Maybe I’ll post a drawing based on something that happen in this chapter later on

[allfearstofallto]

Familiar Stranger

Yandere! Caleb x Fem! Reader

TW: Yandere, Manipulation, Restraining

“It'll be just like-”

“-old times,” you cut Caleb off and finished the sentence for him. You'd been hearing it for days at this point. Except your voice didn't have that same excitement at the expression. You were distant, angry as you spoke. And Caleb could see that. That once friendly smile, the one he wore to mask himself as the real Caleb, it vanished and his lips pressed into a thin line, eyes growing dark.

He'd done this little change multiple times over the course of days, shifting from a person you knew to one you didn't. Each time it chipped away at the joy you were feeling just to see him, only to reveal a hint of anger you'd been hiding, even from yourself. Anger because while you sat and mourned for over a year, he was aware that you were mourning someone still alive. He could have sated your pain earlier. He could've been there when you needed him. But he wasn't. And he still hasn't given a clear answer as to why.

Caleb kneeled in front of you while you sat on the couch, coming face to face with you and giving a smile that was tender. The mask was back on. But each time he slipped on the disguise, you grow less susceptible to it.

“Won't you be good for me and stay here until I get back, hm?” he asked, his voice soft, soothing, like he was trying to put you to sleep. As he spoke, he reached up and tousled your hair. A gesture that you always found endearing from him, one that took you back to a simpler time where it was just you and him against the world, “It'll only be a couple hours.”

You slapped his hand away with your own. That mask of his was tricking you no longer. His sweet words said in Caleb's voice couldn't decipt you anymore. Your trust in him, the one standing before you, was all, but gone, “I can't stay here, Colonel.”

There was an aggressive strain on each word. A desire for him to hear each syllable full of distaste and disdain. A pressure that needed to be spilled, like a shaken can ready to explode. And the usage of his title? To put some distance between the two of you. As long as your lips called him Caleb, your heart would want it to be true. But you had to nip it in the bud, he was using it against you.

He sat back on his haunches. He was looking you over, his purple eyes seeming to peer into the depths of your soul and not just meet your gaze. And it was scary. Horrifying even. In the presence of the beast, you felt your mouth begin to go dry. But you didn't back down. You watched him force a smile that didn't meet his eyes, and laugh with an unnatural stiffness.

“You can't even wait for me a little?” He said with a smirk, trying to shift the perspective, make you seem desperate for his affection. You didn't know if he was playing this ploy to trick you, or himself, “I don't have to go in today, ya know?” You felt the cold leather of his gloved fingertip tracing down your cheek, “If you're acting this needy, I could just stay home with you,”

The word “home” angered you even more. Sky Haven wasn't your home and it never would be as long as he was here. Your home was a pile of rubble and ash now, where you lost everything you loved. Including him.

You went to slap his hand away again, only to feel a strong weight against your arms. A familiar weight. One you'd felt before. Like you were being pressed under the mass of a planet. Caleb was restraining you with evol. Not even his full power, he could crush you into bits with it if he wanted to. It was just enough to hold you there, a pressure just slightly too strong for you. All you could do was glare at him.

“Don't,” he growled through his teeth. He let out a sigh, as if trying to calm himself before speaking again in a softer, still agitated tone, “Don't act like my touch disgusts you.”

A flicker of emotion crossed his eyes. A sorrowful one. One full of pain. The idea of you hating him being the only weakness he ever showed when he was like this. He pressed a hand on your cheek. Then another against your shoulder. That same hand trailed all over your body, touching you, squeezing you, even tickling you and trying to elicit a laugh. Like he wanted to force you into liking, and missing the way he touched you. You couldn't even flinch away from his hand, the force of his evol still being too strong against your arms.

“It does,” you spat at him, making his expression visibly harden. But not like he was getting angry at you, but frustrated with himself, “You disgust me, Caleb.”

He didn't reply for a while. Evol still holding you down, he sat there on his knees in front of you. His fingers twitching, lip quivering. You felt a pang in your chest as well, seeing him this way. When he was like this, he was who you knew. But all the lying and hurt he'd brought to you, you had to remember it. If not, you'd fall into that same cycle of forgiving him, just because it was him.

Caleb stood. His full height seeming to tower over you, casting a looming shadow across your features. Once more, he reached down to pat your head, this time with his right hand. He looked visibly dejected before pulling away with a sigh.

“A couple hours, okay?” He repeated. The few words made your heartbeat quicken. Just when you thought you'd made a breakthrough with him, realization hit you that he still viewed what he was doing as right even though he knew it was wrong.

He adjusted his uniform in the mirror, looking back at you with one more weak smile before walking to the door. The entire time you watched him watching him leaving, all you could think was that his silhouette was unfamiliar. Not the one you'd race to see when you saw him approaching through the window, but a stranger.

The door shut with a soft click. His evol eventually dissipated because of the distance, freeing you from your invisible restraints. You rushed towards that door with a bit of hope, not caring about what you were leaving behind, but knowing that you had to. Turning that knob, all that hope you had vanished at your fingertips. Of course, it was locked.

[ikkyfics]

hi im so in love with your writing! I was wondering if I could request an angsty remus fic? maybe with an unrequited love theme where reader has a massive crush on him but he notices and rejects reader before they can even confess? its not that’s ok! mwah tyy <33

Unrequited Love

Remus Lupin x f!reader

Summary: It wasn’t just a crush. It was deeper, more desperate. Every day beside him was a mix of silent happiness and growing pain because, deep down, you knew he didn’t see you the same way. And yet, you clung to any shred of attention. A smile in the hallway or the sound of his name on your lips, which he always responded to with that infallible kindness. You knew you were drowning, but you couldn’t help it.

Warnings: angst

A/N: hi love, you are so kind, thank you so much for the sweet words. I hope I did something that meets your expectations - and gosh, maybe, just maybe I am a little devastated, it's two angsts in a row with my boy Remus (that said, of course I loved doing it)

Masterlist | part II

You couldn’t quite remember exactly when it all started, but at some point between shared classes and comfortable silences in the library, Remus Lupin started occupying every thought of yours. Maybe it was that afternoon, weeks ago, when he noticed you were struggling to understand the theory behind a complicated spell. He approached, gentle but not invading your space, and said: "Can I help? I think I have an easier way to explain this."

You accepted, of course, your face warm and words stuck in your throat. He sat beside you, his voice low and firm as he pointed to the lines of the book with a slender finger. Every time he explained something, he’d end it with a quick glance, as if he wanted to confirm you were following along. You were so captivated by the sound of his voice that the actual understanding of the spell came later, when you were alone.

That’s when you started noticing the details. The way he furrowed his brow when reading something particularly complicated, or how he smiled to the side, a subtle smile, but enough to light up your whole day. He was different. He didn’t draw attention like his friends, who were usually the center of any room, but there was something in the restrained gestures, the care in his words, that made him seem more... real.

You began seeking opportunities to be near him. Not that it was intentional at first, but you always seemed to end up at the table next to him in the library or choosing the same time to study in the empty classroom. He never seemed to mind. In fact, he always nodded or gave a polite "good afternoon" before returning to what he was doing.

There was that day, though, that stayed engraved in your mind with almost painful clarity. It was an ordinary afternoon, and you were in the library. You had mentioned, without thinking, that you loved chamomile tea because your mother used to say it had a "comforting taste." He chuckled softly, a sound that made your heart stumble in your chest. A few weeks later, while you were sitting in a class, he casually leaned in and murmured: "Did you know chamomile tea was used in Ancient Greece as medicine? Seems fitting, doesn’t it?"

Your head spun to him, surprised. He remembered. It was just a silly sentence you had said, but he remembered. The rest of the class passed in a blur as you replayed each word, each glance.

It wasn’t just a crush. It was deeper, more desperate. He seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders, but you wanted so much to be the one who could ease some of that. Every day beside him was a mix of silent happiness and growing pain because, deep down, you knew he didn’t see you the same way.

And yet, you clung to any shred of attention. A smile in the hallway, a "Are you okay?" after a tough test, or the sound of his name on your lips, which he always responded to with that infallible kindness.

You knew you were drowning, but you couldn’t help it.

The weeks dragged on like a dream, but a dream that never became reality. With every encounter with Remus, you felt like you were floating, but there was always an invisible weight pulling you back to the ground. He was kind, considerate, but never crossed the line. Every gesture, every word, was filled with a cordiality that you desperately wanted to interpret as something more, but you couldn’t ignore the voice in your head whispering, "He's just being polite. It doesn’t mean anything."

It was in this tension that an idea formed. A letter. If you couldn’t say everything you felt to him in words, maybe you could put it on paper. You had already rehearsed so many times, in your mind, the perfect phrases, the declarations that could, perhaps, make him see you differently. But every time you opened your mouth, the words died before they took shape.

That night, sitting on your bed with the curtains closed around you, you held a piece of parchment. The quill trembled in your hand as you stared at the blank page. Your heart was pounding, a mix of anticipation and fear. What could you write that would capture everything you felt? How could you translate in words the impact he had on you, the way he made the world seem lighter just by being in it?

After minutes that felt like hours, you began:

"Remus, I know this might seem strange or unexpected, but I need to say something that I’ve kept to myself for so long that I can’t keep it in anymore. Since I met you, something inside me has changed. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but there’s something in your gestures, in the way you look at the world, that makes me want to be a part of it. You’re more than kind; you’re someone who makes everything seem... possible. I don’t know how to put it any other way, so I’ll be direct: I like you. More than as a friend. And I needed to tell you. Because holding this in is starting to hurt more than having the courage to say it."

You stopped, looking at the words you had just written. Your breath was heavy, and silent tears threatened to fall. It was a relief, in a way, to see it all there on paper. But the weight of what could happen next was almost unbearable.

For a moment, you considered handing him the letter. Not that night, of course, but maybe the next morning, or during the next class. The idea gave you a spark of hope, but also brought an overwhelming fear.

What if he didn’t feel the same?

That question echoed in your mind, over and over, as you carefully folded the letter and hid it in the pocket of your coat. Your hand stayed there, feeling the weight of the parchment like a bomb about to explode.

Remus knew. He had known for some time. There was no way he couldn’t notice.

There was something in the way you looked at him, a hesitant and hopeful gleam, that didn’t go unnoticed. He noticed the moments when you got closer than necessary, like when you sat beside him in the library even when there were empty tables. He noticed how you seemed to hold your breath whenever he leaned in to explain something, or how your words sometimes faltered, as if the weight of something unspoken was too much.

He wasn’t a fool. The subtleties of the heart, however, were a territory he preferred to avoid. Especially when he knew he couldn’t return the feelings.

You were smart, dedicated, kind in a way that made people want to be near you, and you were beautiful. He genuinely liked your company, but not in that way. Not the way you seemed to desire. Remus felt a tightness in his chest every time this reality pressed upon him, because he knew what needed to be done. He knew that the longer he let things drag on, the worse it would be for you.

That’s why, after Potions class that afternoon, he waited for you to finish gathering your things. He didn’t know exactly what he would say, but the words had been weighing on his throat for days.

“Do you have a minute?” His voice was calm, but there was something in his expression, the way he avoided eye contact for a second longer than usual, that made your heart stop.

“Of course.” Your response was automatic, but the nervousness crept into your voice. He was serious, more serious than you’d ever seen him before, and that sent a chill through your stomach.

As you walked beside him, the hallways seemed longer, quieter. You noticed he didn’t look directly at you, and that only made the nervousness grow.

He stopped next to an empty window, where the late afternoon light fell in soft angles. You held your books to your chest, as if they were armor, while he finally turned to face you.

“I... I think we need to talk.”

Your heart seemed to beat too fast, as if trying to prepare itself for whatever might come out of his mouth. You knew he wouldn’t say this lightly. “We need to talk” was never a casual introduction, it never preceded something good. Still, you tried to hold on to the faint hope, that quiet voice in the back of your mind whispering: Maybe he feels something too. Maybe he wants to say he noticed...

“I... I need to be honest with you,” Remus began, his voice low and serious, his words carefully chosen, but they still fell like stones upon you. “I don’t think it would be fair to let this continue without saying anything.”

Your fingers tightened around your books against your chest. Without saying what? Anxiety ran like fire through your veins, and you couldn’t look away from him, even though part of you wanted to run.

“I’ve noticed that...” He paused, biting his lower lip slightly, as if the words were hard to form. He ran a hand through his hair nervously, looking away for a brief moment before meeting your eyes again. “You’ve been... very kind to me, and I appreciate that. Truly. But I... I don’t want you to think that... there’s something here that isn’t.”

The world seemed to silence around you. Only his words echoed in your mind: “Something that isn’t.” It was as if he had ripped the ground out from under you with a single sentence.

“I don’t understand.” Your voice came out quieter than you expected, almost a whisper. You knew what he was trying to say, but at the same time, you refused to believe it. It couldn’t be this. It couldn’t end like this.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He took a step closer, his gaze filled with something that seemed like guilt. “But I think you feel something for me. Something more than friendship.”

You felt your face burn, your chest tightening as if being compressed by an impossible weight. He knew. All this time, he knew.

“I...” You tried to deny it, tried to find some word that could save you from the abyss opening up, but your voice failed.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he interrupted, his voice softer now, but somehow, that only made it hurt more. “I just... I don’t want you to get hurt. You’re amazing. You’re kind, you’re smart, and anyone would be lucky to have your attention.” He sighed, his shoulders dropping slightly, as if the weight of the situation affected him too. “But I’m not that person. I can’t... see you that way.”

It was as if he had pulled the air from your lungs. Every word felt like a blade, cutting slowly but deeply. You felt tears burning in your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not in front of him.

“You’re saying that...” You stopped, swallowing hard, your throat too tight to continue.

“I don’t want you to have hopes where there’s no space for them,” he said softly, as if trying to minimize the impact, but the pain was already there, overwhelming and absolute.

You didn’t know what to say, how to respond. All you could feel was the crushing rejection, the weight of knowing he would never look at you the same way. It was worse than you had imagined, because he wasn’t being cruel. He was being honest, and his honesty hurt more than any cruelty ever could.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, almost in a whisper, and those words were the final stone that fell upon your heart already in ruins.

You nodded quickly, unable to trust your own voice, and took a step back. You wanted to say something, wanted to pretend you were fine, but there was nothing that could be said. So, you just turned and left, feeling his eyes on your back but not looking back.

The first tear fell before you even turned the corner.

Each step echoed like a drum in your ears, blending with the disordered sound of your thoughts. You pressed the books to your chest so tightly that your fingers began to ache, but it was better to focus on the physical pain than the agony that was boiling inside you.

The students around you laughed, talked, ran. The castle was alive, pulsing with the energy of carefree teenagers, but everything felt muffled, distant, as if you were walking through a bad dream.

You turned down a random hallway, not even knowing where you were going, just needing to get away from everything and everyone. Your heart pounded in your chest, and the knot in your throat seemed to tighten with every passing moment, as if it were impossible to swallow the weight that kept building there.

Finally, you found an empty corner, behind a worn tapestry that no one seemed to notice. It was a temporary hiding spot, but it was all you needed. You threw yourself against the cold wall, sliding to the floor, the books falling from your hands as the tears you had held back for so long finally overflowed.

They came hot and relentless, streaming down your face mercilessly. You tried to stifle the sobs, biting your fist, but it was useless. The pain felt like its own entity, growing and spreading inside you.

Your chest ached, a physical sensation of emptiness and tightness that almost made you gasp for air. Your hands trembled, gripping your knees as if they were your only anchor. He knew. Those words echoed repeatedly in your mind. He had known all along.

Worse yet, not only did he know, but he had decided to tell you in such a careful, gentle way that the rejection became even more painful. He hadn't looked down on you, hadn't mocked you, but that only made it crueler. He had looked directly at you and said, without hesitation, that there was no space for you in his heart.

You closed your eyes, trying to breathe deeply, but all you could see was his face. The calm expression, the soft tone. The contrast between his kindness and the brutality of what he was saying was unbearable.

What had you done wrong? The question burned like fire, consuming everything around you. You replayed every interaction, every glance, every word spoken. There was no way to erase the moments when your heart raced for something he said or did. There was no way to turn back time and rip the feelings from yourself that you knew he would never return.

In the distance, you could hear other students passing by, carefree voices, laughter filling the hallways. Life continued as if nothing had happened, as if your world hadn't ended in that moment. The contrast was suffocating, a reminder that your pain was yours alone.

You hugged your knees, trying to diminish the feeling of falling apart. All you wanted was to disappear, to become invisible. Maybe, if no one saw you, no one would know how broken you were.

Time seemed to drag on, but it also slipped through your fingers like sand. You couldn’t tell how much time had passed since that conversation. Days? Weeks? Every unavoidable encounter with him felt like tearing the scab off a wound that hadn't even started to heal.

Classes became a kind of silent torture. He was always there, just a few meters away, and you could feel his presence like an electric current pulsing in the air. Sometimes, your eyes would meet for a brief moment, and he’d smile hesitantly, almost as if he were trying to offer some form of comfort.

But there was no comfort to be found.

You started changing seats in classes, picking places farther away. You walked through the hallways with your eyes on the floor, avoiding any chance of crossing paths with him. When he was with James or Sirius, laughing and talking loudly, you found some excuse to leave. Seeing that smile, hearing that laugh, felt like a cruel reminder that his life was going on without interruption while yours was in ruins.

You knew he noticed. Remus Lupin was perceptive, perhaps more than anyone you knew. And that’s why, on an ordinary afternoon, he came over.

The hallway was empty, and you were organizing the books in your bag with slightly trembling hands. When his shadow fell over you, your stomach tightened instinctively.

“Hey,” he began, his voice low and cautious, as if he were walking on glass. “Can I talk to you?”

You didn’t want to. You wanted to turn and run, wanted to scream for him to leave you alone. But instead, you just nodded, because running now seemed useless.

He hesitated for a moment before continuing. “I... noticed you’ve been avoiding me.” He ran a hand through his hair, a habit you knew all too well. “I don’t want things to be like this between us.”

The bitter laugh almost escaped your lips, but you swallowed it. “Like what?” Your voice came out harsher than you intended, but your heart was pounding so hard that it was hard to control.

“Distant.” He took a step closer, but stopped when he saw you recoil, even if it was just a little. “I... hope we’re still friends.”

The word pierced like a sharp blade. Friends. Of course. That was what he wanted from you. What he always wanted. And hearing it, said so gently and sincerely, made it hurt even more.

You wrapped your arms around your body as if that could contain the emptiness spreading inside you. “Friends,” you repeated, testing the word on your lips. It felt strange, bitter, as if it didn’t belong there.

“Yes.” He gave a small, hopeful smile. “I really... I’m so sorry, you know? For everything. I never meant for you to feel like this.”

“I know.” Your response was barely audible. You knew he didn’t want to hurt you. That made it all worse.

There was an uncomfortable silence between you. He seemed to be waiting for something, maybe a confirmation that everything was okay. But you couldn’t give him that. Not now.

“I... I need to go,” you finally said, your voice trembling as you slung the bag over your shoulder.

“Of course,” he replied, a little hurriedly. “But... we’re okay, right? I just want you to know, if you need me, I’m here.”

You closed your eyes for a brief moment, trying to breathe, trying to stop the pain from overflowing once more. When you opened them, you forced a small smile that didn’t reach your eyes. “I’m fine, Remus. Thank you.”

Before he could respond, you turned and walked quickly, feeling the tears threatening to fall.

As you turned the corner, you leaned against the wall for a moment, your eyes burning and your breath heavy. He wasn’t cruel. He would never be. And maybe that was exactly what made it all so unbearable.

Night had fallen over Hogwarts, and the castle was immersed in a heavy silence. You were in the farthest corner of the common room, where no one seemed to notice your presence. The only company was the fireplace, its flames flickering irregularly, casting shadows that danced across the walls.

In your hands, the letter you wrote weeks ago trembled slightly. The parchment was crumpled and worn at the edges, as if it had been handled countless times but never read by anyone other than you.

You remembered exactly the moment when you wrote it, the words flowing like a confession from your heart. It was everything you wanted to say to him. All the feelings that had been growing, gaining strength and life of their own. You had poured out every thought, every heartbeat, with the naive hope that he might feel the same.

But now, all that remained was a useless piece of paper.

You smoothed the parchment carefully, your fingers tracing the words written in your hesitant handwriting. Each sentence seemed to mock you now, like a cruel reminder of everything you felt and everything that would never be returned.

The flame of the fireplace seemed to call to you, its warmth offering a final solution to the weight you carried. With a trembling sigh, you stood up, feeling your heart tighten in your chest.

You hesitated for a moment, the letter still firmly held in your hands. Part of you wanted to keep it, hold onto it as a reminder of something that once mattered. But another part of you knew you needed to let go, even if it meant releasing something you never truly had.

"I could never be enough for you, could I?" you whispered to no one, your voice barely above a thread.

Finally, you brought the parchment closer to the flame, and it began to burn slowly. The edges darkened and curled, the fire consuming the words that once seemed so important. You watched each line disappear, one after another, until all that remained was ash and embers.

The pain in your chest was unbearable, but you stood there, motionless, watching as the last particles of the letter were carried away by the wind from the fire. It felt like watching the end of something that never had the chance to begin.

You sat on the floor, pulling your knees to your chest, the tears finally falling freely. They burned, hot and relentless, as you wondered how it was possible to feel so much for someone who would never look at you the same way.

Despite everything, you knew you still loved him. That was the cruelest part of all. Even after all the pain, all the rejection, you couldn’t simply turn off your feelings. He was still the one who made your heart race, who inhabited your dreams, who carried the weight of your hopes and fears.

But he would never be yours.

[rafesbowbunny]

𝜗𝜚 mean!rafe loves cockwarming but you're not such a huge fan

c!w; mdni !! mean!rafe, desperate reader, cockwarming obviously tehe, bit of degradation ig?, use of the nickname bunny, dumbification sorta, overstimulation?, creampie, writer doesnt know what they're doing lol. notes; first work !! um i apologise in advance bcs i've just been a tumblr lurker... until now lol. pls leave me feedback!

rafe had been fucking you rough for what felt like hours. you were basically seated on his lap, backup against his chest with his cock deep in your sore wet hole. he was always pretty merciless when you had sex but this? this was just cruel.

after rapidly pounding you with his strong arms holding you up slightly by your ass as you yelped and tried to claw at his flexed bicep, he had let you fall hard onto his lap again, but didn't move.

you could feel his piercing smirk adorning his lips even without facing him. the way you wriggled, trying to gain whatever friction you could again, as you sat there begging to cum made him sooo smug.

you tried to move again, dragging your legs up from being splayed out in front of you to gain some height and fuck yourself on his dick, but he stopped you. grabbing at your hips with a bruising grip, "ah ah, you need to be patient baby..."

you whined at his scolding, the feeling of being so full of cock wasn't enough, you needed to move. your lips were red and swollen from pouting and nipping at them all this time, you grabbed one of his hands that was still on your hip, hoping the desperate touch would convince him to let you have your way.

"sooo needy aren't we bunny? god, dick's got you acting all dumb, huh? just want to be fucked soo bad, don't we?" he teased, his words syrupy. he was torturing you on purpose, having fun with it. he could handle the lack of friction, the way you were desperately clenching around him, your cunt fluttering everytime his chest rose and fell because that was basically the only movement you were getting now.

"rafeee" you whined, eyes closed and eyebrows cinched together as if you were in pain, "please... pleaseplease. i need you to move." he loved the way you whined his name, the way you begged, there was almost nothing you could do to get what you want at this point.

you looked down, a creamy line of arousal gathered around the base of rafe's cock. your breathing going all ragged as rafe ignored you and the sight of his cock so deep in your pussy only made you more wet and desperate.

you tilted your head back, getting all dizzy from the pressure of waiting and the way you were breathing too heavily. "aww, 's my bunny getting flustered and dizzy? this cock got you so good all thoughts are gone baby?" rafe chuckled, his hot breath on your neck making you twitch.

"please rafey it's so deep i need you to fuck me so bad..." you said all breathy, his weakness. you figured you might as well pull out all the stops now. with your head leaning back on his shoulder, you could sort of see his face, his jaw ticking in contemplation as you could feel his dick perk up at your words before. you grinned and continued, "rafeee... it's all i want."

he rolled his head to the side before finally moving his hands, one slid from your hip to the heat fresh and pooling in your lower tummy, finding itself on your clit. you gasped at the touch while his other hand slid under your ass, gesturing you to rise up a little again.

as soon as you did, you could hear a little scoff at the back of your neck before he began thrusting into you again, hard and fast. your loud pornagraphic moans bounced off the walls as he groaned into your neck, both of you really winning in the end when you came simultaniously, rafe then fucking the creampie back into you slowly.

"mmh, such a needy dumb bunny" he'd mumbled, still playing with your clit as he watched your pussy swallow the white liquid.

[ir-abelas-vhenan]

Don't mind me, just revisiting the plot (again) and dying over this line (again). (These screenshots are going to be abysmal, but you'll get the point).

"To stop now would dishonor those I have wronged to come this far."

Yeah he's talking about Mythal (earned or not) and Felassan and Lavellan and Varric...but the way it applies to HIM, too, is what absolutely guts me.

Long post ahead...

Solas realizing that Lavellan doesn't care about how others see him or want to use him under the inquisiton, that HIS motivations as he has shared them are enough for her and worth defending against those who would tell him he's something he isn't. Solas, for the first time, being confronted with the realization that one these new elves he does not see himself in will still go to bat for him.

(Is he duplicitous? Yes. But intent on working against Corypheus? Undoubtedly).

"You came here to help, Solas, I won't let them use that against you."

“How would you stop them?”

“However I had to.”

“...thank you.”

Solas grappling with the fact that it wasn't just a one off, that this Dalish woman being faced with "hypotheticals" he's desperately been trying to get her people to entertain is jumping in head first, pushing back and disagreeing with him but never treating him worse for their differences and always admitting when he's helped shape a changing perspective. Solas daring to ask for help and marveling at the fact that he receives it, that the same woman who asked if it might some day be possible to live alongside spirits, who did not immediately shoot down his critique of THE CHANTRY REFUSING TO ACKNOWLEDGE SPIRITS AS LEGITIMATE BEINGS (GAH), who did not laugh at him for saying he preferred their company most days, this woman, is going to drop time and resources during war time preparations to personally help his friend.

And then, when he is too late and has once again failed someone he considers a friend, he disappears within himself, where he has always gone to exact punishment for the weight of the lives he believes he's betrayed. It almost works, too.

Psych. Lavellan doesn't want him to grieve alone, to stare at the place in the Fade where his friend used to be and think of all he should have done differently.

“The next time you have to mourn, you don’t need to be alone.”

“It’s been so long since I could trust someone.”

“I know.”

“I’ll work on it. And thank you.”

But does she stop there? No. She doesn't chafe at this random apostate who speaks with certainty and unapologetically delves into a past he believes worth preserving, even at the cost of questioning her culture as it currently stands.

The very woman he once thought of as a mistake that HE unleashed upon the world is asking to be a part of his, not because of what he can bring to the table, not because she needs a right hand man, and certainly not because she thinks he has some well of power and intelligence critical to winning over enemies she’s willing to join for "supervisory" purposes (cough cough hi Mythal). She bears the weight of choices that can and will lead to death, to pain, and when it wears on her she relies on him, not for solutions but so that at the end of it all she might smile with someone who knows her heart and the good she tried to do amidst a sea of terrible options. She wants to be known, no inch of her unturned, and worse, she thinks she knows him. But how could she? This is no longer who he is, it is merely the remnants of what he destroyed to make a world at Mythal's whim.

And still she unbalances him, accepts him, wants more. Solas is sharing a personality that brings him the closest he has ever been to his spirit form, and it is ENOUGH for her. Existing as he has always dreamt of is all takes to earn her loyalty, respect, and eventually love.

“You’re an admirable man. Not many people know who they are the way you do.”

“Thank you. Both for saying that and…for seeing that. Few in this world can see me instead of just seeing a pair of pointed ears”

She. Sees. Him. Every part he slowly is realizing he wants to be known for and even a few he thought he could hide. And then he gives it all up. Because he woke to a new world where spirits and elves and mages were so far removed from the role they played in Arlathan that it can only be yet another mistake he caused and must fix, never mind the fact that the dwarves have forgotten why they fled underground millennia ago in the first place.

The friend who tore him from the world he loved, urged him to take physical form? She is dead, too, never mind the fact that she ignored his urging for a different path, nevermind that he killed and tore and hurt in her name because otherwise what was losing the part of himself he loved for?

"A spirit becomes a demon when denied its original purpose.”

“It hurts. It always does, but I will survive.”

“You bound it to obedience, then commanded it to kill. That is when it turned.”

He may no longer recognize where the Dread Wolf ends and where Solas begins, but if he gives up now and permits himself the chance to remember, the pain he caused himself and others means nothing, because he did it all for Mythal and in his final discussion with her, regardless of what Veilguard tries to convey, she does not release him from his position as her agent.

And maybe that's part of why I'm so angry, because EVEN BEFORE TRESPASSER, the fragment of Mythal that ends up in Morrigan could have freed him, but she does not.

"The failure was mine," he tells her, voice trembling. "I should pay the price."

Silence.

"I am sorry." He whispers.

And do we get that "what we did, we did together" psuedo-fake ass-absolution, the one that, if given enough time and safety to put himself first he may have realised he doesn't truly need to pursue the things he deserves, that make him feel finally like himself again? No the fuck we don't.

"As am I, old friend." She murmurs.

Looking through the lens of Veilguard, this isn't an apology, it's a condemnation. It's Mythal tormenting him one more time, twisting the knife deeper, agreeing that it is Solas alone who has brought them to this point, who deserves to be punished. And then she reminds him what they are to each other, what he is supposed to be to her. What he must become again.

"It isn't abuse if I ask," Cole says in his personal quest.

"Not always true," Solas shoots back.

Var lath vir suledin. Our love will persevere.

I wish it could, vhenan.

And so he pushes onwards, spending almost a decade denying himself his true nature and regretting that he ever gave it a chance to come through because now he KNOWS that this world is different and a little broken, but it's a world he could be a part of because of the woman and the friends that made a place for him. It is a world that doesn't necessarily need to be restored as much as it might need renovation, but that is not the world Mythal demanded of him when she let him kill a remaining piece of her. And any solution but that means the hurt of taking a body, of hurting the titans, of time and time again being called on by one evanuris to fix a problem they all caused, was for nothing.

And a Pride of that magnitude, that sinister an origin, has a long, long way to fall.

So he recommits to the friend he gave up his nature for, he refuses to let himself remember that Lavellan learned the full truth of his identity and still begged him not to mourn alone. Even so, he still cannot quite forget.

He kills again. He kills again. He kills again.

He kills a friend.

He fails to prevent the Evanuris from wreaking havoc a second time, wrenches another innocent into his war, and when they ask him about the woman he calls vhenan, he feels the mask stifling him begin to suffocate. But he never lets it fall, because to surrender now is to place her broken heart atop the pile of regrets he's been holding up like Atlas crumbling beneath the weight of the world itself. Because he still thinks it selfish to want the things that make him feel like himself again, so they need to be taken off the board entirely.

And then that same uppity little shit has the audacity to tell him it's not too late, that he can turn back.

"To stop now would dishonor those I have wronged to come this far."

If he gives up now, his entire corporeal life has been a betrayal of many, but worst of all, he will have ruined himself for nothing.

But then she's there. A little older, a little sadder, and still looking at him like she did the night he almost broke and instead carefully removed any suggestion that she had ever belonged to anyone but herself.

"Didn't you hear me?" Her every action screams as she kneels to meet his gaze like he did the day he took her arm (another failure, another sacrifice he cannot let be for nothing).

The tombstone in the fade is his greatest fear, but it is not his fate. Why? She will not let it be. It cannot be his din'anshiral if she is not beside him.

Lavellan may not have understood the depth of exactly WHEN Solas first came somewhere foreign and uncertain to help, but she never once failed to keep her promise. She refuses to let his initial desire to do good be held against him any longer. And when she sees him accept that not-quite-absolution-definitely-more-of-a-power-play from the god that saw what he was capable of and molded him into a weapon, she finds her in to make sure he doesn't walk off alone to mourn again, never again will she lose him to the expectations others have of him. No doubt she wants to find a way to sink the fingers of her good hand into that spectral visage and tear it away like he wishes to do to the veil. But she is not here for Mythal. She is here for her heart, and for the man who has been carrying it since the moment her lips met his in the fade ten years ago.

“No orders to kill, no conflict with its nature, no demon.”

"There is no fate but the love we share." She tells him as soon as Mythal's too-little-too-late platitudes send shudders through his body.

Banal nadas ar lath'ma vhenan.

She forces him to see that the only remaining betrayal is to lock himself away one more irreversible time. All that's left to lose is the piece of himself he cherishes more than his greatest victories: all that he has to gain comes from making sure the love that was given to him at Skyhold, in the moment where Varric saw all he was capable of and still tried to bring him back home, was not given in vain.

It will not be so terrible a place, so unforgivable a betrayal if he can finally dare to put himself first. If, unlike that night in Crestwood, he finally gives in not to break, but to make himself whole.

There's a codex entry in Inquisiton about a spirit of wisdom who is summoned by researchers and only after a very pleasant conversation do they realize they made a mistake and never successfully bound the spirit in the first place, that it chose to speak with them of its own accord.

"I am not certain the spirit would have talked so freely had it been shackled at the time," writes the author of the entry.

I keep thinking about this alongside the datamined line of Morrigan saying, "And so, the Dread Wolf is stopped by, of all things love."

But that isn't quite right, is it?

Because in the end, of course the Dread Wolf could only ever freed by, over everything, love.

[leighsartworks216]

It's Nothing

Sylus x AFAB!Reader

Inspired by my late as fuck period and joking with my friend that I was the next virgin mary. Not proofread cuz I want to post it but I'm tired of looking at it

Warnings: pregnancy scare, menstruation, period fic, anxiety, overthinking, lack of communication, communication, silly, cuddling, kissing, swearing

Word Count: 1,450

Main Masterlist

First Love and Deepspace Masterlist

Second Love and Deepspace Masterlist

AO3

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"Sweetie? What has you so distracted lately?"

"Nothing! Nothing at all! I was just, uh- thinking about work, that's all!"

"You're a terrible liar. Tell me what's wrong."

"It's-" You falter, searching desperately for an excuse and coming up woefully empty "It's really nothing, Sy. I'll tell you at some point, just..."

"... Just not right now." He sighs, but nods, dismissing the subject. A frown lingers on his face as he turns back to the movie. "I trust you, sweetie," he says after a long pause, when it seemed the topic had been dropped completely.

The guilt sinks down into your stomach, but you bite your tongue and cuddle further into his side. The rest of the night remains tense.

You want to tell him. Admit what's on your mind. Finally release this stress from your body. But you can't! Because... what if he leaves you? And maybe you're just being paranoid for nothing - but you can't take that risk, not with Sylus, of all people.

Your period is over a week late. That's not terribly unusual, but it is suspicious given the fact you've stopped using protection in the bedroom. Well, not necessarily stopped, since you're on birth control, but things get heated and he's finished inside of you without a condom. So... what if your birth control didn't do its job 100%? You know there’s a small percentage of it failing, so what if this time is the time it chooses to be ineffective?

Dr. Zayne is the only person you've told about your fears, when you went in for a checkup and nervously asked if he could run a pregnancy test for you. You're not sure if being your childhood friend made the next line of questioning about your sex life more or less awkward. You do know that that test came back negative... But Zayne said after the fact that it could be too early to tell.

So all you can really do now is wait until you do or don't get your period again.

You know it bothers Sylus a lot, your secrecy. You two have both progressed so far in learning how to trust each other, even with the stupid things. This just... doesn't feel like one of those stupid things. You've only just put a name to the relationship, you don't want to ruin that now when things are so new and nice.

So you hold it in. You try your damndest to put it on the back burner and show him as best you can that everything is fine and that you still love and trust him.

You wake up with your body's internal clock. With the N109 Zone being so dark, knowing when day is is a bit tricky. But, Sylus is asleep beside you, laying on his stomach with his face buried in his pillow. He doesn't have a shirt on. A wide expanse of tan skin and rippling muscle is left exposed as the blankets all pool around his hips.

You smile to yourself, albeit a bit mournfully. You're glad he's still sleeping beside you, even if you've both been a bit rocky lately. It's all your fault - you know. You'll make it up to him somehow. You have to.

Slowly, as quietly as you can, you slip out of bed and creep to the bathroom...

"Sy!" You see him startle out of sleep, hand already wrapped around the gun under his pillow as he sits up, searching for the danger.

"What is it?" he asks sharply. You run and jump onto the bed, landing partially on top of him. He tosses the gun onto his nightstand and lifts you by the waist to reposition you into his lap as he sits up properly. "What's got you so excited?"

"I'm not pregnant!"

He blinks up at you with a frown. You grab his shoulders like an excited kid, looking at him expectantly. He feels like he’s skipped several chapters into a book and the plot twist reveal isn’t making any sense. "What are you talking about, sweetie?"

You're practically vibrating in his lap with energy. It's the most light he's seen in your eyes for the last week and a half. It's... relieving. "I'm not pregnant! We haven't been as careful with protection lately and then my period was supposed to come, but it didn't, so I had a pregnancy test done, but Zayne said it could be too early to tell when it came back negative, so I've been waiting and waiting to know if I really am and-! And I'm not! I'm bleeding again, Sylus! I'm not pregnant!"

He shakes his head, brow pinched with a pained expression. "That's the 'nothing' you've been distracted by all week?"

"Um..." You grin sheepishly. "Yeah?"

He takes a moment, eyes closed and lips drawn into a frown. That guilt that settled in your stomach during your movie night returns, doubled in intensity. You got over-worried and kept secrets from your boyfriend, when you could have just told him from the start how weird it was that your period is late and how worried you are about what it could mean.

"Sy...?"

"Mmm."

"Are you mad at me?"

He finally opens his eyes. The expression eases slightly as he shakes his head with a sigh. "Have the cramps hit yet?"

You shake your head. "Um, no?"

Suddenly, his arms are wrapped around you and your world tilts on its axis. A heavy weight settles above you. Sylus's nose presses against your neck. "Good. Let's stay here for when they do."

You try to wriggle loose. He tightens his hold around you and nips at your skin sharply. You jolt, but it stops your struggling. “Why do we have to stay here for my cramps?”

“Because, sweetie,” he sighs. You’d think he’s annoyed, if it weren’t for the way he runs his nose along the column of your throat and eases his weight fully onto your body. “When your cramps start, you’re going to want a heating pad and a massage. And since you hate my massages-“

“I do not!”

“-it’s better if I just lay here and provide all the heat you desire.”

His logic isn’t faulty… And, honestly, having him so close to you again, without the barrier you built between you both, is really, really nice. So, you relent. You wrap your arms around his neck and begin playing with his hair. He lets out a contented hum, pressing a kiss to your pulse.

“So… you’re not mad at me?” you ask again.

“No, I’m not mad. I was… worried. Suddenly you were pulling away from me with no explanation and no warning. I thought…” You gently pull on his hair to remove his face from your neck. He follows with no resistance, resting his chin on your chest as he looks up at you with such serious eyes, tinged with sleepiness and lingering concern. “I thought you didn’t trust me anymore.”

You frown at the admission. For over a week, he thought you were pulling away because you didn’t trust him… “I guess I didn’t help any, keeping my worries a secret…” He doesn’t agree, but you see a slight quirk in his brow. “I’m sorry, Sy. I didn’t… I just… This is so new. I was worried that if I was pregnant, you’d be upset or leave me or something.”

He scoffs. “I’m not so easily scared off, kitten.”

“And I know that now.” You lean forward and press a lingering kiss to his forehead. His eyes flutter shut, furrow in his brow relaxing. When you pull away, they open to look at you once again. “I promise, from now on, I won’t keep secrets like that from you anymore. You’ll be the first to know if I’m worried about anything.”

He grins slightly. “Thank you, sweetie. I promise to be just as honest with you.”

He lifts himself up just enough to capture your lips. Your mouths move together in a languid dance, sealing the deal you two have just made. It lasts several minutes. Neither of you really ever want it to end, but Sylus needs his sleep and you’re going to need all his love and care when your uterus decides to rain hellfire on you to make up for lost time. He pulls away slowly, trails light kisses down your jaw, and tucks himself back into your neck.

Everything feels so much more secure now. Despite all your fears, the relationship has grown stronger. And you know, you’re both going to be okay.

-

Bonus:

“Is the thought of having my kids that terrible?”

“You know that’s not why I was worried, you asshole.”

---

Tag List:

@the-golden-jhope @huen1ngk41 @armycaratlover @sylusfluffymeow @cheesemachine44 @nyx2021 @angel-jupiter @thelittlebutton @pikachuzhc @pomegranatepip @cordidy @an-ever-angry-bi @thejysemongko @deusfoundry