#he would smell like cherry blossoms

[liliavanrougelover]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Summary: How the act when they're jealous

Characters: All (-Ortho)

A/N: Something something Floyd <3

Riddle Rosehearts:

He’s ashamed about it

He knows that being jealous is toxic and he hates that he’s feeling that, so he ignores it

He pretends he’s not jealous and hopes it just goes away, and yet… it hasn’t

He knows you’re dating him and he has nothing to worry about. But the way that guy is being so touchy and getting so close to you… it makes him want to collar the guy right then and there

He doesn’t because that would be unreasonable, but he does decide that he needs to talk to you. If ignoring it won’t work, then he’ll just have to face it and talk to you about it.

So, he walks over and asks to talk with you privately

“I don’t like how friendly that guy was with you. I know you love me, but I’m jealous. It’s silly and childish and I’m sorry that you have to deal with me being like this. I tried to ignore it, but it got worse, so I thought telling you about it would help. And again, I’m sorry.”

He’s so sincerely apologetic about it

Because he doesn’t want you to feel bad or feel like you have to stop being friends with that guy just because he’s jealous

Just tell him that it’s okay and remind him that you love him and only him

And a date would help too. Maybe a private tea party in the rose gardens

Trey Clover:

He doesn’t get jealous easily. He’s so confident in his relationship that “what if…” thoughts of you cheating or leaving him hasn’t once crossed his mind, BUT…

There is a line that shouldn’t be crossed

This guy acts so casual and nice around you, and he’s happy about it and he wished it stopped there

But then the next day, the guys is standing closer, being more touchy, and his voice sounds more flirtatious

Trey knows you don’t hear how he’s speaking, because if you did you would’ve moved away or told him you were taken or something. But you just kept talking to him with a smile

So, Trey walks over to shut this guy down before he takes it too far

“Hey. So sorry to interrupt, but they’re taken. I’m Trey, Y/N’s boyfriend. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

He’s so polite that you can’t tell he’s even jealous

He lets you finish your conversation with him, but he stays there with you to make sure he doesn’t do or say anything

And the next day, he keeps you all to himself

He takes you out to eat, shows you around Sage’s island, bakes with you (or talks to you while you watch him bake) and then invites you to stay over and watch a couple movies of your choice before falling asleep in each others arms

Nobody could even tell he’s jealous

Cater Diamond:

So pouty

He gets jealous and walks around with a pout on his face

He doesn’t even check Magicam!

It’s not hard for him to get jealous either

You smile at someone for a bit longer than usual? He’s jealous. You let someone stand a little too close? He’s jealous. You agree to hang out with them one-on-one? He’s jealous.

He doesn’t like being jealous, and he tries to hide how often he gets jealous. Usually it works. He just takes a few days to think it over and then he’s perfectly fine.

But, sometimes it becomes unavoidable and he can’t hide it. And at those times, he invites you to his room so he can talk to you

“That guy you studied with yesterday was being pretty buddy-buddy with you. Almost like you’re a couple. But, last time I checked, we were dating. And I don’t think our relationship is open right now. Wanna explain yourself?”

He doesn’t realize how accusatory he sounds

It’s like he’s interrogating you and doesn’t realize it

And he does feel bad when he realize how he sounds, because he knows it’s not your fault

He apologizes for being so accusatory and asks you to have a study date with him later that day

You get to his room after class and he’s n set up for something that isn’t a study date

His LEDs (He has LEDs because I said so) are on a nice pinkish color, the room smells like cherry blossoms and he has a little dinner for two set up on his desk with an extra chair that he borrowed from Trey’s room. And before you go back to your dorm, he gives you a bouquet of roses

Ace Trappola:

Believe it or not, he doesn’t get jealous that often

But when he is, he doesn’t waste any time

Some guy thinks he can just put his hand on your arm, and stand so close, and tell you that he’s always free if you want to “hang out”? Hell no

He’s immediately baring his teeth like a lion

Not literally, but you could definitely tell he’s jealous with one look

He just walks over to you and forces this guy to back off. And if the other guy doesn’t back down, he’s not afraid to fight him

“Hey. Back off! For your information, they’re my partner. MY partner! Not yours. Why don’t you back up and keep your dirty little hands off of them. Wouldn’t want them to catch whatever creep disease you have. Hey, babe, let’s go. I want to make you dinner tonight.”

He gets you out of there as fast he can

He also doesn’t straight up tell you not to talk to that guys (especially if he’s your friend) but he does say “that guy makes me uncomfortable”

And he takes you back to his dorm and makes you dinner (Riddle and Trey have to step in because he almost ruins it. He tried and that’s what matters)

He also ask you to stay the night just for his peace of mind

Deuce Spade:

Immediately feels guilty. Especially because his first instinct is to go over there and punch the guy that’s standing too close and getting too touchy

You don’t even know that he’s jealous, because he never tells you

There are signs though

He’s hanging around you more often, getting more touchy, saying “I love you” more often, but other than that you wouldn’t know

He talks to one person about it and that's Jack

He ask Jack for advice on being and jealous and Jack gives pretty solid advice

The only way you’ll actually get him to admit he’s jealous is if you ask him

“Oh… Is it obvious? Sorry, I didn’t want to say anything in case you thought you did something wrong or anything. I was trying to hide it so it didn’t affect you. Am I being too overbearing? I’m sorry, I’ll try to tone it down.”

Please reassure him that he isn’t being overbearing and that you just want to make sure that he knows you love him

He tells you that he’ll work on not being jealous and even ask if you can help since he’s never seen you jealous

He wants to be better for you ♡

Very protective

Leona Kingscholar:

You’re his herbivore, not anyone else's

Someone gets too touchy or too friendly, he will get so protective

God forbid it’s a Savanaclaw student, he will make their life a living hell

He’s also not afraid to approach you two while you’re talking and telling him off

Doesn’t he know who this herbivore belongs to?

“Hey! This herbivore is taken. I’ve made that very obvious. And even if they weren’t, what makes you think they’d like someone like you? There’s a reason you’re single. How about you stop creeping on people and do something productive? Herbivore, you want me to teach this guy a lesson?”

Will actually beat the guy up if you want him to

He’ll also immediately take you to his room to cuddle

Also encourages you to tell off anyone else who acts that way

And if he does catch you telling off a creep, he gets so proud

“That’s my herbivore.”

Ruggie Bucchi:

Doesn’t really mention it, but there are so many signs

He’ll ask you to study more, get donuts, and help him with chores. And he’s a lot clingier than ever

There isn’t a minute of your day that goes by when he’s not with you

And he also discreetly teaches the guy a lesson. By stealing all of his money. He has the guys wallet now

He’s not gonna get all flirty with his partner and not pay the price

“Hey! Y/N! I got more money! You wanna go out? My treat!”

He tells you that the money came from Leona, but it didn’t.

He just sticks closer to you and doesn’t talk about it

He’ll also deny being jealous if you call him out on it

If you talk to the guy he’s jealous of when he’s with you, he’ll shamelessly glare at him

Jack Howl:

Doesn’t get jealous easily

He trust you and that’s not gonna change because some guy gets touchy

He’ll only get jealous if you actively flirt with somebody, but at that point he just settles for leaving (reasonable)

He’s protective though

If a guys flirting with you and you’re visibly uncomfortable, he will get you out of there as fast as possible

Or if you tell him that a certain student is being creepy to you, he’ll keep you away from the guy

“Hey. You’re making them uncomfortable. Leave my partner alone. Y/N, let's go. Do you wanna see this new cacti I’m growing?”

He ends up sticking around you and make sure nobody is creepy or starts making you uncomfortable

He’ll act like your personal security

If a guy gets mad and starts getting physical with either of you, he’ll pick them up and take him away from you

Not jealous, but protective

Azul Ashengrotto:

Oh no

He just locks himself in the VIP room

Azul’s coping mechanism is to hide and he does just that

He sees a guy being all touchy and flirty and he doesn’t stick around. He just runs off and hides

You have to go to him and tell him that you aren’t into that guy

“I know. You are dating me and you love me. I just saw that guy and I thought… I don’t know. Maybe he’d be better for you. He’s more athletic, better looking, he’s… fit. I’m sorry.”

Once he’s out of the Funk© (as Floyd calls it) he will not hold back on the guy

He will get Floyd and Jade to spy on him and get blackmail information. He’ll then force the guy to work for him by using the blackmail and leave him with the worst and hardest job

That guy will learn not to be creepy to his partner again

Jade Leech:

Unhinged

Sometimes he’ll pretend to be jealous just to mess with you and get kisses, but when he’s actually jealous, he’s unhinged

He will blackmail whoever he’s jealous of to do disgusting things. When he goes to the Mostro Lounge, Jade will purposely make his food bad (or tell Floyd to mess it up). He’ll let Floyd have “fun” with him.

He is not going to go easy on this dude. Oh, but you won’t know any of this. You just notice that he seems a little more on edge and if you ask him about it:

“Well, my pearl, I’ve been quite jealous recently. Don’t worry though, I’ve dealt with it. Would you like to go on a hike with me?”

You can try to ask how he “dealt with it” but he won’t elaborate. He just tells you not to worry about it

He has this big grin on his face too, that definitely doesn’t calm you down

He does drag you on a hike with him. Mainly to get your mind off of what he might’ve done and also to get more mushrooms for his terrariums

Floyd Leech:

Oh no… Oh No. OH NO!

He gets unhinged in a more physical way

He is not afraid to approach you and get the guy to leave you alone. In a forceful way

He's so angry and violent. In a word, he’s very Floyd. Which checks out

“HEY! Who do you think you’re flirting with? That’s my shrimpy! Are you asking to get squeezed? Aha, I’ll give you a ten second head start.”

He’ll chase the guy around the school for a good while. To terrorize him, he’ll let the guy stay ahead of him, but once he starts slowing down he’ll get him

Oh, but you won’t get mercy either

He finds you after school and cuddles you for hours

He’s half-heartedly squeezing you with his head buried in your chest and grumbling about you being cruel

He’ll tell you how mean you are letting him get all jealous and then not doing anything to make him feel better

The cuddle’s don't count either. He wants kisses. A LOT of kisses.

Doesn’t get jealous

Kalim Al-Asim:

Ever

Why would he need to be jealous? He trust you

He sees a guy flirting with you and doesn’t feel even a little worried

At the end of the day, he’s the one dating you, he’s the one kissing you, he’s the one who gets all your love and affection and that’s what matters

Now, if you want him to step in and help you he will

You have to tell him if someone makes you uncomfortable and if he sees that person talking to you, he’ll step in

“Excuse me, they’re taken. I’m their boyfriend. Sorry, but I need them for something. Come on, Y/N, I need your help setting up for a party this weekend.”

The excuse he used to get you out of their wasn’t even a lie

He genuinely needs help setting up for a party

Whenever he gets you out of uncomfortable situations, he never lies about needing you. He needs your opinion on everything. The food for a banquet, the decorations for a party, his drumming skills, everything.

Jamil Viper:

What? Him? Jealous? Yes

You love him and want him. He’s not letting someone take you.

He’s tries to be lowkey about it though

He’ll interrupt every conversation you have with the guy, claiming that he needs you for something and then saying he just wanted to spend time with you

He’ll invite you to study more or help him with his chores

He’s not above pulling you away from the guy either

“Hey. I need them. Y/N, can you come with me?”

He literally just keeps you away from the guys he’s jealous

He tries to hide it, but then eventually just ends up cuddling you forever

He ends up falling asleep

And when you tell him he’s more clingy than usual, he denies it (like a liar)

Another guy that doesn’t get jealous

Vil Schoenheit:

He’s confident in himself

Why would you leave him for any of the potatoes around this school? Nobody could be as great as he is

He knows he has no reason to worry

At least, that’s what he says, until…

He sees you talking to Neige

Neige isn’t flirting or anything, he’s just being his normal self, but Vil still get jealous

The longer you talk to him the more the jealousy grows. He doesn’t say anything while Neige’s there but when Neige’s gone

“Potato. I hate to admit this, but I've found that I’m jealous. Perhaps you could help get rid of this ugly feeling. Would you like to go out for dinner?”

He spends the rest of the day with you. He’ll just randomly kiss you and gets happy when you randomly kiss him

And at the dinner, he pulls a bouquet out of thin air

You think he planned this the day prior. After all, he was with you all day, and you didn’t see him buy a bouquet

Little do you know, he ordered them while you were distracted and had Rook deliver them to him just before he entered the restaurant

Rook Hunt:

Rook, believe it or not, isn’t jealous

He is, however, territorial

If someone ends up standing too close to you, they will end up with an arrow grazing by them, forcing them to back up

He doesn’t acknowledge it at all

To him it’s just another day

You ask him about it and he acts confused

“What do you mean? I was just making sure they learned personal space, mon chéri. I need to make sure no one thinks to touch what's mine.”

He goes on a whole rant about boundaries and mentions something about marking???

He keeps say french in the middle of his speech and you end up getting lost

The main point of his speech is that he doesn’t want anyone trying anything funny with you since your his

Weirdo

Epel Felmier:

Oh man…

Epel already has a bit of a fragile ego from always being seen as delicate and girly, so when someone tries to make a move on you…

He immediately thinks that they don’t think he can protect and provide for you

He assumes that they don’t think he’s man enough to keep someone safe and provide for them and he is not at all happy about it.

“HEY! Git yer hands off ma partner, ya creep. Ya think ah can’t provide for ‘em ‘cause ah’m small, ey? How bout we head outside and ah teach how a real man fights!?”

That guy wasn’t too sure what Epel said, but the aggressiveness made him leave you alone

Epel ends up flexing asking if you saw how good he was at protecting you

He then takes you to his spell drive practice to impress you more

He also tells you to tell him if anybody is creepy like that again

Let's get one thing straight, he didn’t see anything physically

Idia Shroud:

He was watching the cameras he installed in the sc- I mean, no, what cameras?

He saw this guy standing way too close and you were obviously uncomfortable and trying to back up

And just because he can’t go outside, doesn’t mean he can’t stop this guy and put him in his place

He has Ortho, after all. And he’s more than happy to protect his best friend

“Hey. You need to back up. They’re taken by my big brother. I suggest you leave them alone unless you want to experience my laser eyes first hand.”

Ortho than escorts you to Ignihyde to make sure that creep doesn’t try to approach you again

Idia pretends he wasn’t jealous while clinging onto you like his life depends on it

He’ll swear on his life that he wasn’t jealous and yet he refuses to swear on Hero’s Dawn: A Rogue's Journey. Strange

Malleus doesn’t realize that someone flirting with you at first

Malleus Draconia:

Only when Lilia tells him does he realize

He gets all huffy about it, but then remembers that he can smite the person with lightning

However, when he gets there, Sebek’s already there telling this person off

How dare they think they can treat this human better than the next king of Briar Valley! Are they dumb?

Malleus has to stop him from hurting the person and then sweeps you away

“My dear, that person didn’t put their filthy hands on you, did they? I must admit, when Lilia  told me that they were flirting with you, I felt… Jealous. I’m glad to know that Sebek’s looking out for you.”

Sebek only thought it was an insult to Malleus, but maybe don’t tell him that.

He tries his best to be around and recognize flirting better, but it doesn’t really work

Lilia tries to teach him the differences between friendliness and flirting, but he doesn’t get it

He tries though, and that’s what matters

Lilia Vanrouge:

Oh no

No mercy for this poor soul who thought of flirting with you

He’s lowkey a little unhinged, but doesn’t let it show

In his mind, he’s thinking about settling this with a good old fashioned duel, and on the outside, he’s smiling politely

He does feel a little smug. He already knew you were the hottest student on campus, but this further cements that

“Oho? I understand why you would be interested in them, they are the greatest after all. However, they are taken. By me. Say, if you’re so intent on winning their heart, why don’t you duel me for it.”

He doesn’t end up fighting that person because he’s powerful enough to accidentally kill them, but he definitely considered it for a second

Just a second

And then he takes you to his room to play video games well past midnight

Silver Vanrouge:

Doesn’t get jealous for two reasons

1. He can’t tell the difference between being friendly and flirting and

2. He trusts you

Even if someone tells him that it’s flirting he won’t do anything because he trust you not to leave him

He’ll only take action if you tell him someone is making you uncomfortable

He asks for a name and/or description of the person and confront them about it

“My partner told me that you flirting with them has made them uncomfortable. Please stop. If you continue to harass them and make them uncomfortable, I won’t hesitate to take matters into my own hands. So, please leave them alone so this situation doesn’t escalate.”

After a few days, he asks if that guy left you alone and is satisfied when you say yes

He’ll do anything to make you feel safe and happy

Sebek Zigvolt:

It takes him a few minutes to realize someones flirting with you, but when he does he gets pissed

Who do they think they are?

That’s his human!

He’s insulted, offended, appalled, stunned, another word

This shall not stand

“How dare you say such things to MY human? Do you know who I am? I’m a loyal attendant of my liege, Prince Malleus Draconia! How dare you think of saying such things to MY human! You are a despicable person and I detest you!”

He meant that with his whole heart

He stays with you the whole day and makes sure that no more creeps try to creep on you

[golden-ebony]

Omg I adored your 10’s a crowd fic!! What if Logan was with a reader who loved the color pink! Their bedroom had pink everything, even wearing pink! You can make them innocent if you want but imagine how Logan would just find the reader so angel-like coming hard surrounded by bright pink pastels🤭

Handsome in Pink‧₊˚❀༉‧₊˚.

♡ Pairing: Logan Howlett/female!Reader

♡ Word Count: 1.4k

♡ Rating: Explicit 18+

♡ Warning/Tags: SMUT! MINORS DNI, sub!Logan, hand job in the mirror, PRAISE, p-v sex, unprotected sex, a lil cum play (kinda?), a lil orgasm denial

♡ Note: Just a quick lil thing because love a lil sub!Logan and I love the color pink. I specifically envision worst!Logan for this, but do as you please

It wasn't something Logan had noticed about you at first. Pink. Typically, it was something subtle like your nails or just one piece of your outfit like that short little number that drove him crazy. When you causally mentioned that it was your favorite color, it all clicked for him. It wasn't just what you wore.

It was the little coral trinkets and floor mats in your car. It was rose gold key ring. It was the baby pink lace panties that poked out when you reached across his lap to grab the remote. They were all different shades. You saw rose, millennial, salmon, cherry blossom, etc. Logan, on the other hand...

"Hm, the site says pastel but then sends this," you groaned as you eyed the skirt that arrived in the mail.

With furrowed brows, Logan crossed his arms. "Ain't that pastel?"

"It's more bubblegum than pastel."

"But it's pink."

"You don't get it."

Logan would be the first to admit that he didn't exactly have an eye for fashion or design, but when he saw your room for the first time, he knew he had never seen so much pink in his life. There were a variety of pinkish hues were broken up by white furniture and flourishing green plants. The pastel bedding mixed with darker pillows and blankets somehow worked for Logan.

Logan had never seen a room like this. And by god, he had never experienced pleasure the way he did in that rosy room.

Your preference for pink gave people a number of preconceived notions, Logan included. A number of those assumptions were correction. Sweet, romantic, sensitive, tender—these were words that could describe you.

Innocent wasn't one of them. And Logan learned this in the best way possible.

"Look at you, baby," you cooed, feathery kisses lining Logan's shoulder. Both on your knees, you were flushed against Logan's taut back. Logan's large figure towered over yours. Still, you had a clear view of the man in your standing mirror. Your slight hand, wet from a mix of your own saliva and his pre-cum, was wrapping around his throbbing cock. Your nails of your other hand slightly tranced circles onto his back. "So handsome, so big...so good for me."

Logan's chest heaved and abs clenched as you tried to control his breathing. It was overwhelming for Logan. The feeling of your frilled, cerise bralette against his back, your warm hand steadily pumping him, your soft stare gazing at his reflection.

It would be easy for Logan to thrust his hips into your grip, control the pace. But there was something about giving into you, surrendering to your alluring spell.

"Fuck, sweetheart..." Logan's groans came deep from his chest as he tried to ignore every dominant instinct he had. "I need to touch you. Please darlin'."

You relished in his begs and pleads but continued your pace. The deep growls that were emitting from his chest was proof of thin his control was at. Your thumb grazed on his tip causing Logan's hips to unintentionally buck.

Your nails roughly dug into his back, earning a wince mixed with pain and pleasure. "Easy, baby...I think you're doing just fine with what you got, yeah?"

Logan couldn't find the words to respond. The smell of your peony perfume and your soft voice dancing through his head, being under your trance—it was intoxicating. Retraining himself, Logan dug his own palms into the sides of his thighs. He was a mess, and you both were loving every second of it.

It was like a high to watch the indestructible man crumble under the simple weight of your touch, knees digging into the cerise fleeced blanket. With ragged breaths and a twitching cock, you could tell Logan near his climax. You savored the strained breaths and groans that Logan couldn't help but release.

"You're gonna come for me, Lo." Your voice was just above a whisper, but you knew Logan heard you. You weren't asking; you never had to. Keeping your speed steady, you keep your eyes locked on his through the mirror. "Just let it happen, baby. Doing so good for me."

Logan's release was almost immediate as if he was waiting for your divine approval. His body clenched against your, feeling his release tighten every inch of his physique. He'd rather have painted your walls, feel you clench around him. But the feeling of taking ropes of his cum into your palm just to lather his still-hardened cock with it as he rode his high felt like something else entirely. As he watched you lubricate his cock further, his thoughts were completely taken over by your soft moans of approval.

"Oh, Lo, such a good boy," you purred against his shoulder. The sound of your praise made his cock twitch again. And you knew what he wanted.

You looked ethereal as you rode his cock. The sight of his cock continuously disappearing into your tight cunt—leaving a creamed ring in its wake—it was heaven. Logan was more than happy to watch you control your pace on his lap in exchange of finally being able to caress you. With a slacked jaw, his rough hands massaged your soft skin from your thighs to your ass, all while watching provide him levels of pleasure that he hadn't experienced in years. And he never imagined he'd feel this way with blushed, stringed lights in his vision field and rose, satin sheets smoothing his back.

Even when you told Logan not to come, not yet at least, Logan found that there was a level of pleasure of watching you get yourself off on his lap. Yes, flipping you over and hammering deep into you until you drunk from his cock sounded good. Yet, surrendering to your alluring call was something else entirely.

"Jesus, princess." He words were barely audible as his eyes roamed your figure. "So goddamn pretty."

Your hum turned into a worn gasp as you felt your climax on the horizon again. You knew ordering Logan to hold off on his own climax during your last one was difficult. As your grinds turned into bounces, Logan looked desperate. He needed to finish in you, coat his favorite pink walls white.

"I know, Lo..." You were practically about to come apart yourself, leaning down to pressed your chest against his. Your strained yet firm voice rang in his ear, "I need y-you to fill me, baby. S-so close."

His grip on your hips slightly tightened. His needy eyes looked in with yours, scanning for you permission to give you everything he had. He didn't see it but he sure as hell heard.

"Please, Logan, just fuck me! I need you, baby."

Like flipping a switch, his hips thrusted up into you with reckless abandon. Your cries were soon muffled when Logan's lips meet yourself in a searing kiss, but he needed to hear those pretty little moans of yours no matter how sweet you tasted. Nuzzling his head into your neck, he continued to mercilessly thrust into you, feeling the recoil of your ass against his hips.

The combination of his teeth nipping at your pulse and pounding deliciously close to your cervix made your eyes roll. You knew you were good at getting Logan to fall into a wave of pleasure just from your touch alone, but the both of you knew Logan could easily turn those tides.

"That's it, Lo. No one fucks me like yo—fuck!" Your voice cracked as your orgasm shot through your body quicker than you expected. Your nails dug themselves into Logan's shoulder as he continued to fuck you through your high. The cries of his name was enough to push him to his edge.

"Ah—shit! Thank you, baby, so fucking good!" With three final thrusts, Logan spilled into you, completely enveloped in a rosy haze. He came harder than he did earlier, entirely stuffing you with his arousal.

Clinging to your glistened figure, his mind was cloudy. The rose-colored sheets were definitely closer to cherry under Logan's sweating form. He couldn't conjure a singular thought as you slowly grinded against his, singing his praises. There wasn't a better feeling; Logan was sure of it.

If pleasure had a color, it was definitely pink.

♡ note: i love hearing y'all's thoughts

[vampiricgf]

— v. lycaon | BRAND NEW CHERRY FLAVOR

warnings : fem reader, ignore that we don't know his age exactly im guessing, ruts, knotting for the first time, rina is mentioned but only because she's meddling, fingering, masturbation, begging, reader is smaller than him, reader has a tramp stamp, virgin lycaon, cervix fucking, biting/marking, blood/blood licking, creampie, crying, sorry if I missed anything

wc : 2.5k+

this is so long im sorry im too obsessed with the idea of him being a virgin lmao >.< also sorry if there's mistakes it's not edited so

He thought upon hiring you on with Victoria Housekeeping things would largely remain the same, the only difference being having one more person with whom to split the existing workload of clientele contracts and commissions. An easy choice thinking of himself and Rina, the primary adults within the company.

It had been difficult as of late, he could acknowledge that, balancing taking on the bulk of the work while the companies other two employees attended their schooling and other engagements that typically keep younger people occupied. And truly he didn't mind it, it was the duty of those older to pick up the slack, allow youth it's time to blossom and explore.

That was not the issue, though. The issue was you.

Not your work performance, no that was impeccable. You had impressed him enough during your interviews but in practical work you went even beyond that, showing an exemplary aptitude for even the most banal tasks. The picture of a perfectly competent maid and (occasional) hollow raider. Even able to both meet and exceed his own impossibly high standards per all the glowing reviews he receives from clients, truly you were a fantastic addition to the company.

The problem arose months ago, when you two had been tasked with a more unconventional commission involving a hollow. Of course danger was always ever present in those ether soaked spaces, both from the impending malformed creatures that called them home and from the levels of ether itself. The risk of warping and twisting the body into a cruel mockery of what once was, imbibing it with sickness.

It was the first time you'd actually worked side by side, he'd asked you to come with him as a sort of test not because he thought he really needed the backup. See how you'd been progressing, what you were like on the job, that sort of thing. A completely normal request for a boss to make, all things considered.

What had not been normal was allowing himself to be caught on the back foot, surprised. You were... painfully distracting to him. A major shortcoming on his part, it was nothing you were doing overtly to draw his attention in such a laser focused way it just seemed like he had a bizarre inclination to keep his attention on you. The way you walked, that delicious sway of your hips. That thing you did when you were thinking, running your thumb across your bottom lip. The smell of shampoo clinging to your hair and wafting over him every time you so much as turned your head. Sugary, faintly floral. Horribly distracting.

Giving some stray hati a prime opportunity to pounce. Neither of you had noticed them creeping up on your perimeter, stalking you both as you picked through the skeletons of abandoned, crumbling homes and businesses. You too busy nervously chattering away and him too busy thinking about how much he enjoyed the sound of your voice.

One moment there had been nothing and in another there was everything happening all at once. Their predatory howls, the initiation of combat. The ring of your weapon as it hit against their stone manes, the crunch of his ice against newly exposed flesh. His eyes frantically trying to keep you in his line of sight at all times, take advantage of the path you left in your wake to give the finishing blow, giving yet another perfect opening for one of the creatures to tackle him full force, the brute strength of it slamming against his side and laying him out shamefully against cracked concrete, knocking the air from his lungs in a painful squeeze.

But there you had been, like some kind of avenging angel from artworks of the old civilization. Your features were highlighted by the look of sheer anger as you mercilessly dug the weapon in your hands into the creatures back, ripping away its advantage and successfully dispatching it within seconds. He could feel how wide his own eyes were, but felt too much acute discomfort to bother trying to mask his own awe.

Not since he was a pup had he needed rescuing.

Not since he was once so pathetically, terribly young had he felt so immediately endeared to someone else.

You were on your knees beside him, fussing over him, eyes sweeping around for any signs of injury or blood. He knew there was none, would have smelled it immediately, but nevertheless he allowed himself to enjoy your ministrations. The way your hands so carefully hovered over him, trying to be mindful of thiren preferences for touch while also trying to be caring, attentive. It was sickeningly sweet of you, made him swear for a second he could taste it in the air, feel granuals of sugar grinding within his teeth. He wondered if your lips tasted even half as sweetly.

"Are you hurt anywhere, should we leave the hollow? An emergency exit is understandable, right? If you're hurt?" Your eyes met him, practically welling over with concern.

He had wanted to hold your face in his hands, soothe you. Almost immediately he'd been gripped by the horror of his own impropriety.

Clearing his throat he took the hand you offered as leverage to get back on his feet, taking note of your warmth, the surprisingly strong grip of your fingers, before you withdrew. Soft, yet capable. Beautiful.

"There's no need. We can continue on with the commission." It took a monstrous effort to keep his voice neutral, act as if nothing of note was running rampant inside his head.

From the on the feelings he had towards you only grew, like a beast growing fat off plentiful prey. Every glance from you, every accidental touch of hands, every moment of conspiratorial laughter shared between you at something silly one of the others had done. Months and months of feeling his heart rate grow increasingly erratic every time your lovely voice would sound out in the mornings, always a perfectly cheerful greeting towards him and the others before you began your work.

And so here he is, mid rut and miserable. Thrusting into his own hand, as he's done so many times before, feeling the sweltering heat in his bedroom and bubbling frustration in his head at the feeling of tangled sheets and the distinct lack of any partner to be thrusting up into.

He'd called into work, voice twinged with embarrassment because how on earth had he forgotten about his incoming rut? Well, he knew how. Because you consumed almost every moment of his waking inner thoughts, distracted him to such an insane degree he failed to fill his suppressant prescription in time. Thankfully Rina hadn't needed details, always too clever by half, but it didn't stop him from feeling intense shame rolling through him even just knowing someone else knew what exactly was going on with him.

Sickness, uh huh. Try so horny and hard he could crack a brick wall in half. The thought made him feel so erratic he couldn't help but grab a nearby pillow, pressing it to his face, feeling his now neglected cock throbbing as he bit the soft down surface so hard he could feel his teeth punching right through the material.

You, you, you, you, you.

All he wants is to lap at what he's sure is the sweetest taste in the world nestled between your legs, feel your body stretching and accommodating his size, tell you how he's going to give you his knot and watch your pretty eyes glaze over and your breasts bounce in time with his thrusts, dig his teeth into your neck, your chest, make you squeal and squirm so he can pin you down-

A few distant, tentative raps against wood.

Did he imagine that?

Tap, tap, tap.

No, no he didn't. Who would be knocking in the middle of the day? Oh god, what if it was a neglected client that had tracked down his address? Someone angry one of the girls had forgotten or completely ignored their commission? His breathing was strained, nearly wheezing as he rushed to make himself somewhat presentable, cringing as he struggled to slide trousers over his impossibly obvious erection. No time to brush down his severely disarrayed fur. How humiliating.

As he scrambles for the front door, flinging it open so hard it nearly crashes against the wall, he freezes.

Why the hell are you here? How do you even know where he lives?

Your eyes go impossibly wide as you take him in, the awkward silence ballooning in the space between you and he's acutely aware of how crazed he must look as his claws dig into the metal of the door handle.

"I'm... I'm sorry for dropping in it's just that- well, Miss Rina told me you were sick and I kind of... begged for your address so I could come check on you, I'm sorry-"

You cut yourself off from rambling, picking at your nails as your eyes flit around nervously.

Of course Rina would give you his address, mischievous as she is. She knew exactly what was going on with his little juvenile crush, his rut. Calling in probably gave her the idea.

But all that was far from his most pressing concern at the moment. You couldn't be here, absolutely not. He cleared his throat, trying to ignore that familiar shampoo scent, trying to ignore the way you look especially lovely, how easy it would be to yank you inside and just-

"I appreciate your concern, but I'll be perfectly fine. I just need to rest." Blunt enough to make him feel bad for rejecting your kindness but the boundary needs to be in place before he does something highly inappropriate. You're coworkers, not casual friends. Every thought he has about you is crossing a line.

A snide inner voice comes out of the blue and he can't focus on what you're saying, too consumed by shame.

As if you'd even know what to do with her anyway.

It must show on his face, although you misunderstand it, because you give him a look of naked concern and he's snapped back into focus. "Do you need me to call a doctor for you? I have my car, I can take you to White Waves if you need to go Lycaon it's no problem-"

"No, no it's nothing that serious." He's losing control of the situation, needs to get you out of here.

"Well, at least let me make you tea or something to eat, please. You look like you haven't eaten all day." Your worried tone makes his pathetic resolve crumble easily, like it was made of sand.

Against his better judgement he relents, awkwardly stepping to the side to let you in the door and a part of him preens at the way your scent immediately compliments his own, mingling in the space as if you inherently belong there. If he had the energy to feel it he'd be embarrassed about the state of his apartment, in disarray as it is. But you don't pay any attention, immediately finding your way to his kitchen and digging through his cabinets like you've done it a thousand times.

Watching you makes him even harder, throbbing and aching so acutely in his pants that his vision momentarily goes fuzzy at the edges. You look so domestic, so relaxed. A bolt of jealousy fires off in his brain, white hot, at the fact that numerous clients have gotten to see you in a similar way before him. Your casual clothes aren't helping him keep control of himself either.

Jeans that accentuate the swell of your ass, the shape of your hips. A tank top that's ridden up slightly, exposing a bit of your stomach as you stretch up to reach the higher spots in a cabinet. He wants to run his tongue over your belly, lick his way up to your chest, leave little love bites across your throat. As you turn to the counter beside the stove he catches a glimpse of a tattoo on your lower back and his jaw flexes so tightly he's shocked his teeth don't shatter in his mouth. He never knew you had one, but it certainly suits you. He wants to know if you have any more, in any hidden places.

"You should lay down, I can bring this to you when its finished," you say it so gently but he can't bring himself to move away, to risk missing a single glimpse of you.

He says nothing and you don't try to press him, to your credit. But when you can't quite reach the top of another cabinet, where hes kept tea tucked away neatly, his instincts to help take over before he can register that his body has moved beside you, hand going over top of yours to easily grab the box. But the way your forearms brush on the way back down makes him drop the box, a shockingly loud clatter that causes a dozen deep fissures to spread in his mind.

He's got ahold of your wrist before you can react, keeping you so physically close to himself that if he took a half step forward you'd be chest to chest. He can smell sugar on your breath, see the red twinge on your tongue from candy you must've had on the way over.

It doesn't even register that his eyes are closed, that your mouth is on his, that his tongue is lapping up the secondhand taste of cherries as it slides across yours and your fingers grasp the rumpled fabric of his shirt. It's like a moment suspended in cut crystal, refracted in a thousand different ways to the outside observer, a million different angles of this one frozen scene, and he wants to hold it forever in his hands.

Hold you forever.

But you pull away and his first instinct is to follow after you, body bending even further to chase your lips as you struggle to catch your breath. Your bodies remain impossibly close as you speak, his eyes never leaving your lips, memorizing the curve of them.

"I don't- I didn't mean-" you're struggling and he can't bear it, can't bear the thought that this one beautiful moment is tainted by the nature of your overall relationship as employees, even worse is that he truly doesn't care. It should scandalize him, shame him in some way, but it doesn't. That fact feels extremely far removed from his current reality and the feeling of even more blood rushing to his lower body.

He cuts you off bluntly. "How much do you know about beast thirens?"

You gape, having been cut off with what is to your view an extremely out of place question but he's hoping you'll follow the thread. "What?"

"How much do you know? Because Rina wasn't exactly... truthful with you." His eyes skirt away from your face but hes committed to telling you what's going on. "I'm not ill, not in the way you're thinking. I'm, well, going through what's called a rut." There's a heavy pause. "The need to... mate."

He cringes internally on the final word, finally meeting your eyes and watching you put it all together. Your own eyes are adorably wide, but you don't pull away from him and that takes him by surprise. He'd figured the second you knew you'd be in a rush to leave, probably drop a resignation call to Victoria Housekeeping on your way home.

But you don't do any of those things, merely taking it in and continuing to let your eyes travel over his unkempt appearance and he's even more aware, if that's possible, of how needy he feels. Any longer without relief and he just might need to take himself to White Waves Hospital. But that's not your problem.

"I mean... That's just a natural thing for you, right? It's not like you're some perv," you laugh nervously, "and maybe- maybe it wouldn't be so bad if you had a little... help?"

His brain feels like a damaged, glitching bangboo. Are you seriously offering this?

"What I'm trying to say is that I- I like you, and I don't care that we kissed. Well, I care but I'm not upset by it. And I'm not upset that you're, like this right now," you gesture with your chin, "and if you need someone then... I can help you with it. If you want." You finish in a rush, clearly embarrassed and something rears its head deep in his stomach.

There's no more room for coherent though as he finds your lips again, nipping at the bottom one before taking advantage of your little gasp to slide his tongue back in your mouth. He turns you slightly, so your back meets the edge of the countertop with his hands massaging at your hips, groping obscenely at your ass. The barrier of your clothes is frustrating, making him growl low in his throat before he's deftly unbuttoning and unzipping them, fingers trembling at you help push them and your underwear down to puddle at your ankles.

You squeal as he lifts you easily to set you atop the counter spreading your legs in his firm grip while your own fingers curl around the marble edge of the counter, gasping as he kisses and sucks against the flesh of your inner thighs as he makes his way towards your pussy. He can smell how aroused you are and it spurs his instincts on, despite the sliver of anxiety working against his lust.

He's marveling at you, sliding two fingers through your wetness, spreading you to see the way you glisten with the slick liquid and he can feel your eyes on him.

"I've, I'm sorry, I've just never been with anyone." The last half of the sentence is heavy on his tongue, one crimson eye shyly avoiding your own before you reach down to cup his face in one hand.

The small smile on your face is sweet, purely gentle and it eases the nerves gnawing at his stomach.

"Never?" He shakes his head and you tilt your head to the side, "Then just watch for a second."

And it's mesmerizing, the way your fingers delicately dip down into your own wetness, dragging up to your clit before your fingers start slowly circling. He watches intently, watching the way your pace slowly builds, your hips twitching ever so slightly at the stimulation before you move back down and slide those two fingers inside yourself.

And the sight is like something religious to him, totally enraptured at the way your pussy swallows the two digits, the way your head tips back and your lips part in a silent sigh. It's not long before the soft squelching sound of your fingers scissoring against your walls reaches his ears, making them flick as he zeros in on it.

With a breathy laugh you pull your hand away but before it gets out of reach he grabs it, bringing your soaked fingers to his mouth before locking eyes with you, tongue tasting every bit of yourself that lingers against the skin.

He thinks your demonstration was a good enough starting point, no longer too nervous as his tongue starts licking long stripes up your pussy and you let out a high pitched sound at the contact. It makes him eager to please, focusing all his attention on licking and sucking at your clit while his fingers find your entrance.

The stretch of you is better than anything his imagination could've conjured up, feeling your walls part around his digits as he gives a few experimental curls and strokes. He can hear you nearly choking on your own noises above him and it sends satisfaction oozing through his body, washing over him like thick drops of syrup.

But he's impatient, whining against your cunt and you seem to know what he needs without him even voicing it. Just another reason to be so enamored with you.

You drag him up to stand, hands urging him to strip and he does so gladly, nearly jumping out of his own skin he's so flush with excitement at having you soaking wet and ready to take him, right there in the middle of his kitchen.

It makes his head spin as his cock springs free, groaning as he feels the air against his overly sensitive girth. Your mouth opens slightly as you take in the sight of him and that earlier shyness returns with a vengeance, but before he can speak your hand wraps around him, barely able to grasp all of him. The surge of pride is something he's entirely unfamiliar with but he relishes in it all the same, desperately wants to please you.

"Just try to start slow, okay?" You say, breath hitching in your throat as you guide the head of his cock through your folds before positioning him at your entrance.

And he takes the lead flawlessly, one hand against the counter to anchor himself and the other gripping your thighs, kneading the soft flesh between his fingers as he pushes in. It's torturous, the howling need to just slam right into you as he feels his head sitting heavy and thick inside you, your breathing already ragged and your eyes fluttering closed.

But he knows this requires patience, for the moment. The last thing he wants to do is hurt you, hurt the trust you've placed in him, so his hips move barely an inch at a time and the feeling of your body reshaping itself around his cock is one hundred times more incredible than just his fingers.

What a pathetic comparison his hand ever was, the real thing will never be beaten out. Your whimpers increase in frequency as the head of him kisses your cervix, his swollen knot nestled tightly between his own body and your slick pussy. As he looks down at your connected bodies he can't help but wonder if you'll even have the ability to take it, but he doesn't get to give it much more thought because you start slowly wiggling your hips, encouraging him to move.

And once again he follows your lead like it was the only role he was meant for, pulling out with agonizing gentleness before pushing himself back inside you and he can't help the way his mouth drops open, the way his eyes screw shut. Does it feel like this for everyone, like they've died on the spot and been given an express ticket to heaven?

He doesn't have the wherewithall to feel any embarrassment at the way he's panting, nearly drooling on you, the way he's keening and growling like some fledgling but you don't seem to mind it. Not with your fingers digging into his fur, your legs loosely locked around his hips, the way you say his name in a half gasp.

His fingers slide down between your bodies as you pull him closer, into a heated kiss made of teeth clacking together and tongues pushing against one another. He swallows your every noise as he starts playing with your clit, just the way he watched you do it earlier. Rubbing sticky little hearts against it and nipping at your lips as your legs jerking, the muscles straining and flexing beneath the skin.

His canines scrape a path from your mouth to your jaw to your throat as his hips pick up speed, jostling your body with so much force your cries take on a higher pitch and your fingers pull at his fur sharply, only adding to the overall sensory delight. He tests your tolerance with his teeth, shallow bites in between sucking on the skin of your throat, groaning as he feels your hand slide up to cup the back of his head, feels the flesh pull taut as you let your head tilt even further to the side.

Giving him permission. His mind is swimming through a black sea of pure instinct, running his tongue over the flesh in silent apology for the pain you'll experience but he won't pass up the opportunity. You're allowing him to indulge, playing to his base instincts. How could he not gobble up the bait? And with that loose thought his canines dig into you, the fine points of them puncturing the skin and a trickle of iron washes over his tongue.

You cry out, pussy immediately squeezing him in a stranglehold at the same time your fingers yank at his scruff but it's not to stop him, it's like the string of a bow being pulled all the way back. Your toes curl in midair, practically sobbing as your hips buck wildly and he thinks this must be it, this must be what a human is like when they cum.

Later he'll examine the fact that you came at exactly the moment he inflicted that little bit of pain on you but for now he's lost in it, hips moving in no particular rhythm anymore as he fucks you through your orgasm, fuck you through the impossible tightness of your cunt, and he can feel it like a second heartbeat fluttering in between your legs as his tongue slides against the blood threatening to drip down to your breast.

And all too soon he feels his balls tightening up, his knot throbbing in time with the pulsing of your cunt and his movements are cruel now, all fueled by pure instinct as he grinds and fucks into you with shameless desperation. His knot needs to be inside you before he cums, he can't spill anywhere but inside you.

And his clumsy, less than elegant method works when he feels that tight ring of muscle at your entrance stretch to its limits and the almost too snug pop of all of himself finally sliding inside. You hiccup on a particularly loud sob as it does, legs snapping against his hips with such finality he doesn't move against your hold, remains standing as his body shakes, his cock twitching as sticky spurts of cum flood your pussy, whining at the way your walls practically suck it all deeper inside, milking him so much it's overwhelming.

It goes on for so much longer than he ever thought possible, the sheer amount of cum making him feel dizzy, like he's lost blood and is teetering on the edge of passing out. But he can't focus on the feeling, instead guiltily kissing every part of your face he can, trying to wipe away the saltwater tracks and then cradling your head against his chest as you bury your face in his fur, feeling the way you're trying to even out your breathing.

You speak before he can, his tongue like a wad of wet cotton in his mouth.

"How- how long are we stuck together?" You manage to force the words out unsteadily, pulling back to meet his gaze before nuzzling your face against his jaw.

His heads still spinning as he answers. "I don't really know," he breathes in harshly, "I'm sorry if its uncomfortable."

He can feel you shake your head. "It's not," your voice becomes shy, still thick with the aftermath of your orgasm, "I like the feeling of you inside me."

He can't help the dopey smile that crosses his face, fingers stroking down your back as he ignores the way his legs shake, the way his knot pulses. When you're no longer tied together he'll need to lay down before he collapses on the spot.

Already that thought invites visions of clutching you to his chest while you straddle his hips, cock thrusting in and out of you at a volatile pace all over again. He'll make it up to you once the fog of lust is lifted, but you most likely won't be leaving this apartment in the coming days.

He'll have to remember to call in for you tomorrow, sure to hear Rinas smug voice on the other end of the line.

[forlix]

‧ ❆ ˚ 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐲 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝・h.j.

— stars flare brightest in the absence of light, and you see his clearer than day.

words・6.4k

pairing・han jisung x female reader

genres・college!au, friends with benefits to lovers, snowed in trope, smut, MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS THAT INTERACT WILL BE BLOCKED, angst, ANGST, you have been warned, hurt/comfort, i can't write normal fluff to save my life, happy ending!!!, semi-slow burn

warnings・depictions of insomnia, recurring nightmares, graphic violence, character death (in the nightmare), fears of abandonment and falling in love, alcohol consumption, humans helping each other heal. smut warnings under the cut

playlist・stay - acoustic by jonah baker・all of me by big gigantic・babydoll (speed) by ari abdul・oasis by exo・volcano by han

a/n・hi, here's my second installment of winter falls. writing this was immensely challenging and twice as meaningful, so feedback would be greatly appreciated. thank you to my may for being so fucking instrumental in piecing together this rollercoaster—this one is for you, i love you. thanks to my sahar for everything, always and forever. and thanks to all of you for being here. happy new year ♡

smut warnings・spitplay, unprotected piv, please practice safe sex!!!, car sex, dirty talk, jisung's dick game is kinda crazy, squirting, lots of aftercare

Every time Jisung closes his eyes, he sees somebody’s back.

It’s leaving. Traipsing somewhere he can’t follow. He tries to chase it—he always does, he never learns—but the premise doesn’t so much as surface before the ghosts circling around his ankles go for his throat instead. They snare him by the shoulders, force him to his knees, slam his forehead into the permafrost hard enough to break bone. They make sure the next time he tries to move will be the last.

So he remains, keeled over in the cold, until tearwater clings to his lower lashes in small icicles. Until bloodstained snow coats his lips like the manifestation of a curse. Until the back has disappeared.

Who does it belong to? He’s left to wonder. Where is it going?

Why can’t I follow?

Then he wakes up.

No longer does he lay awake for hours afterwards, scouring the dream’s every frame for his answers.

Now, he tosses and turns in clammy sheets until his exhaustion wins.

Now, he welcomes sleep like a miracle granted by some pitying god.

You see him.

Through a living room packed with red-faced partygoers and dissected by oscillating strobe lights, albeit, but you see him anyways. 

Jisung can barely make out the rest of your face—he blames the lighting, or the soju, or both—but your eyes alone turn him to glass. Not a fancy vase through which the world distorts, but a simple pane that puts him and his ghosts on full display.

He hopes you like horror movies.

Felix knows you, because of course he does, and Jisung has never been happier to call the extroverted Australian his friend than when you come over to say hi. You stumble out of the crowd all smudged makeup and sweaty skin, your figure hugged by a short black dress with two diamond-shaped openings just above your hips, your glossy lips curved in a drunken smile. Jisung immediately wants it against his mouth.

Instead, it disappears behind his friend as you pull him into a quick hug. A few wisps of your hair dust over Jisung’s arm, momentarily replacing the smells of grease and vodka with cherry blossoms and vanilla.

“Lix, hey!”

“Darling, it’s good to see you! Feels like it’s been ages.”

“I know, right? How are you? How is everything?”

“Good, thank you. Just happy the semester’s over.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Then you go to lift your drink and discover thin air in its place. “Or I won’t. Whoops.”

This prompts Jisung’s first contribution to the conversation—and his first effortless laugh in a long while.

“Eventful night, huh?”

He meets your gaze from all of two feet away this time, and his knees buckle under him. That gaze, fuck. So clear and true, like a prism of glass refracting light into a rainbow. He would let you refract him a thousand times over if he had any light to give.

“Maybe,” you giggle. “Seems I’m a little too happy the semester’s over.”

“Wanna not get a drink to celebrate?”

Your expression flickers. Not in a bad way, more like you hadn’t expected him to ask so soon—or for yourself to have your answer so quickly.

A strobe light catches right under your eye and refracts the color in your blushing face. A rainbow.

“I’d like that.”

He tilts his head towards the kitchen. You give Felix’s elbow a light squeeze before moving past him; he gives Felix a glimpse of his growing smile before falling into step behind you. The blonde shakes his head, throws back the rest of his beer, then swivels at the sound of someone calling his name from across the foyer.

Felix will get drunk enough to forget the sight of you leading Jisung up the stairs, two bottles of pink lemonade tucked under your arm. Nothing stronger, as promised.

Jisung asks his question an entire minute after he intends to. “Where are we going, by the way?”

“Somewhere I can see your pretty face without having to squint,” you reply, and his stomach tumbles like a schoolboy with a valentine.

You don’t stop at the second floor. Instead, you nudge open a door Jisung swears just materialized to his left and emerge into the night air.

It’s warm for December, but he’s still met with chilly winds licking down the sides of his neck. That’s not the only reason he shudders, though. Below his feet, he finds a metal platform akin to that of a fire escape. Above his head, a staircase that looks one forceful step away from dropping off the side of the building.

You turn towards it. 

In a hurry, he sputters, “I’m, uh—I’m not sure about this.”

A beat passes. Your hold on his wrist loosens, not to let go, just to trace wordless reassurance down the back of his hand. Your fingers feel perfect sliding into the spaces between his, like drops of honey in the craters of soufflé pancakes.

“It’s safer than it looks, I promise.”

Jisung heaves a sigh. It seems saying no to you is an impossible task.

You’re right, though. The iron rungs are surprisingly rigid beneath his feet, and the two of you make it to the roof with no trouble. He does stumble when you pull him up onto the gravel, but it’s intentional, a purposeful blunder to have you closer. To snag another glimpse of that blush, another trace of that floral vanilla.

“Sorry,” he whispers almost directly upon your lips. And that earns him all three.

The next hour evades him for the most part, and Jisung is pissed about it. He’s with the woman of his dreams under a sky so clear it’s almost lustrous and he’s too shitfaced to recollect when he gave you his hoodie to wear; what you said that made his lungs capsize with how hard he laughed; how you ended up so close to each other, your legs strewn over his lap, his hands tracing over your thighs.

Thankfully, he remembers a few things. He remembers how frighteningly easy you are to talk to; he remembers your habit of smacking his stomach when you get flustered; he remembers you getting flustered a lot. He remembers the timbres of your different laughs and how your stunning features crinkle with each. He remembers feeling like a pane of glass in front of you, just like he had downstairs, and he remembers liking it, somehow. Liking the way you see through him, the way you allow him to just exist as he is. Liking the way you acknowledge his ghosts with such nonchalance, inviting them over for tea and biscuits.

He wants to remember everything about you.

It’s not often he wants to remember anything.

Eventually, your conversation comes to a natural close. In its absence, Jisung notices that the alcoholic sludge in his brain has largely diffused; with it, the rumbling bass of the party below. The full moon hangs at its highest point, blanketing the two of you with anticipatory silence, nudging you towards the only topic you���ve yet to breach.

He meets your gaze again, from all of two inches away this time, and his insides twist.

“You’re still drunk, aren’t you?”

You blink at him, not following. Then he leans his forehead against yours, lets his eyes flicker to your mouth with such unbridled want that you’re instantly dizzy—and no longer confused.

Regret pools in your eyes moments before they close. “Yes, I think so.”

Your lips are so, so close that he can feel the air shift between you when they move, can feel the soft warmth emanating from them. Jisung pulls away before he does anything stupid.

You do the stupid thing for him.

You push his shoulders to the plaster behind him, push yourself onto his lap with a swing of your body and a slotting of your legs on either side of him. 

The plush of your thighs hugging his hips, the curves of your breasts pressed against his chest, Jisung tries to stare up at you, perplexed, aroused. But you’re so close that he can’t, so he settles with whispering upon the underside of your chin, “what are you—”

“Gimme your lemonade.”

The authoritative words come out in a slurred haze, and he all but hastens to oblige. 

You pluck the plastic bottle from his wavering grasp. His empty hand hovers as if uncertain where to go. But matters as trivial as hand placement drop off his mind’s precipice as he watches you unscrew the cap, the slope of your neck illuminated by spindly moonlight, and without thinking he pushes his hands beneath the hem of your—his—hoodie.

The skin of your waist is warm and smooth where his fingertips are cold and calloused, the juxtaposition unimportant in your reciprocal desires to touch and be touched.

“Open,” you murmur.

His jaw goes slack, firstly from pure disbelief. Then, obedience. The dark locks that obstruct his vision of you fall away as his head meets the brick half-wall behind him, as if the midnight breeze itself mandated their removal.

You pour some of the pink liquid past Jisung’s parted lips. Stray rivulets slip down his cheek and vanish beneath his neckline. You break eye contact to follow their path with dilated pupils and fluttering lashes. With unadulterated desire.

He swallows, gently, and feels the sweet substance surround his tonsils.

He swallows, forcefully, when you wrap your lips around the bottle, the plastic still slathered in his spit.

The swig you take is long, deep. Your throat bobs and your eyes close as if you’re savoring a finely-aged nectar. Then your lips are popping off the opening with a soft thwock, leaving a thick strand of saliva to suspend, suspend, suspend until the very second it’s about to drop, which is when you collect the residue with a deft swipe of your tongue.

“A placeholder,” you breathe, and Jisung’s head careens. A shared bottle. An indirect kiss.

“You’re a monster,” he croaks.

You giggle and lean down, curling a hand around his cheek, pressing a wet kiss to his Adam’s apple.

“Tomorrow, if we’re both sober…”

One, two, three pecks up the length of his jaw.

“...and you still remember my address…”

A suckle to the lobe of his ear.

“...you can kiss me, for real.”

A trembling breath.

“And then some.”

Jisung moans, loudly.

Thankfully, he remembers a few things.

He shows up at your place shortly after sunset the next day. You swing open the door, your face already alight with your world-ending smile.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

Then he’s kissing you like a man famished.

Jisung learns to love your back, that night. He loves its dips and curves, loves its rise and fall. Loves how it arches into him, how it looks drenched in his cum. It’s the back of his dreams.

The back in his dreams keeps walking.

Jisung has never liked winter.

He has never liked its winds, whispering woefully as if mourning something unnamed and unseen. He has never liked its palette, whitewashing the world as if refracting a rainbow in reverse.

He has never liked cracking open his eyes and seeing the scenery of his nightmare outside his window. Nor does he like trudging over the sleet as if weighed down by the same ghosts that break him time and time again in his dreamscape. They love winter. 

And this winter, he swears, is the bitterest yet. On the nights when he’s allowed to sleep, the nightmare comes in such sharp relief that he thinks he’d rather anything else, the ghosts meaner, the blood redder, the silhouette slower. It’s an act of mercy when he’s still awake by the time bleached sunlight perforates the curtains, resting upon his salted cheeks and balled fists.

This winter, it is not just dislike that he feels towards the gray winds—it’s hatred. A maelstrom of loathing so large and dark that Jisung no longer knows where it’s headed or what it’s directed to. Or who.

When winter break comes to an end, he’s probably the only person who’s happy about it.

His friends certainly aren’t, looking like a line of angry nutcrackers with their folded arms and thunderous faces standing outside Greem Cafe.

Jisung calls out a greeting as he jogs towards them, and cue the grumbling.

“What is there to smile about? Enlighten us.” That’s Hyunjin. “I have to deal with four finals and three essays in the next five days and this guy is smiling.”

“He’s accepted his fate, I reckon.” That’s Felix. “We should do the same, boys. Let ourselves down easy, y’know?”

“No, no, he’s smiling because he remembered to bring me his chem notes.” That’s Jeongin. “You did, right? Please say you did.”

Jisung is stunned into silence. “Can I not be happy to see my friends?”

“No,” Hyunjin and Felix reply in unison.

“My bad,” he sighs.

“My notes,” Jeongin repeats.

“I have them, dude. Let’s sit down first.”

The younger boy shouts an impassioned “THANK YOU” at the sky like the clouds just saved his GPA. Jisung reaches for the door to the café, then stops at the sound of Felix’s voice.

“We’re waiting on one more person.”

He turns towards the blonde with puzzled eyes. He’d been under the impression the study session would comprise just them four.

“Who?”

Felix’s response falters on his tongue when he catches sight of something in the distance, and his face changes in a way Jisung’s seen before.

“Look behind you.” Felix shuffles past him, raising his voice to shout, “yo!”

Jisung glances away from the newcomer as quickly as he sees her. It’s not until his eyes pivot to the fire hydrant across the street that he processes her identity.

In one second flat, his mind clutters full. He thinks back to that party, when all it took was the sight of your smile for him to theorize you were the most exquisite thing ever made. He thinks back to the next evening, when he kissed you and verified his hypothesis. He thinks back to what followed and would continue to follow in the few days that remained before break: entwined tongues and emblazoned hickeys, whitened knuckles and whiny praise, snapping hips and shaking bedframes.

This winter, Jisung swears, is the bitterest yet.

But seeing you, the scarf wound multiple times around your neck doing nothing to hide your gorgeous smile, feels like catching a fragment of summer in his frozen hands.

“Thank god,” Felix groans before embracing you. Collapsing on you, more like. “I’m saved.”

You reach around to pat the boy on the back, your eyes brimming with laughter. “Lower your expectations, please. I did well on one exam.”

“You aced the midterm. That automatically makes you a rocket scientist,” Felix corrects, his voice muffled into the shoulder of your coat. A few beats of silence pass. Then, “this is comfy.”

“Okay, okay, let’s go get some caffeine in you,” you giggle. “We have a lot of ground to cover today.”

Felix straightens up sleepily. And sadly. “Superb.”

Jisung hangs back as you introduce yourself to Hyunjin and Jeongin. He doesn’t even notice his growing smile until you’re standing directly in front of him and for the first time in three weeks there’s the smell of cherry blossoms in the air and a rainbow shining on his face again.

“Hi,” he offers.

“Hey,” you reply.

Hyunjin is the one to shatter the prolonged silence that follows. “Are you guys betrothed?”

Felix and Jeongin stalk into the café snickering. You and Jisung trail behind with flaming cheeks.

It takes Jisung two and a half hours to talk to you again. At that point in the afternoon, Felix is napping on the second practice test you’ve given him; Hyunjin has downed three shots of pure espresso and is currently viewing his screen with concerning intensity; Jeongin is at another table on a quiet Zoom call with his chemistry T.A., Jisung’s notes clutched to his chest like a life vest. And you’re leaning back against your seat opposite to him, scrolling through your phone in what he presumes to be a well-deserved study break. As good a time as any.

He opens up his texts with you. His fingers fly across the keyboard.

Jisung: do you have plans after this?

Your eyes stutter to the top of your screen, linger there for a moment, and lock onto Jisung’s from across the table.

He presses his lips into a thin line to suppress his smile. You let yours spill over in full form, and with it comes a soft giggle that would be worth getting his number fucking blocked just to hear one more time.

Three gray dots appear before elongating into a prompt response.

Y/N: I was gonna ask you the same thing…

He’s the one who laughs this time. Fuck, you’re cute. You’re so cute.

Jisung: can i take you to dinner? Y/N: Yes, I’d love that :) Y/N: When should we leave? Jisung: 9? Y/N: Sounds good~ Jisung: cool Jisung: it’s a date Y/N: It’s a date! Y/N: Excited 💛

With that, you put your phone face down and return to work, though your lips remain privately upturned. Jisung wants to kiss them again.

He also wants to turn you into a mess on his cock again.

Or both.

He doesn’t get much studying done after that thought surfaces.

Jisung: me too <3

When nine o’clock rolls around, you and Jisung begin cleaning up your work stations in near-perfect simultaneity. There’s confusion written all over Hyunjin’s and Jeongin’s faces as they watch you swing your backpacks over your shoulders—but Felix’s expression is a blank slate as he sips from his macchiato. Your ingenuity isn’t the only reason he invited you today.

As you make your way out of the café, your shoulders brush once, twice, and then Jisung drops his hand into the space between the two of you without uttering a word. You scoop it up in your own without missing a beat.

He steps into the freezing night feeling warm all over.

“You know what I realized?” You say as you walk towards his SUV.

“What did you realize?”

“We’ve never had a sober conversation before. Can we change that tonight?”

Jisung has broken hearts before.

There’s no euphemistic way to describe his tendency to abuse the sensitive organs, to wring them out and throw them away like irrelevant trash. To juggle and drop them with a sheepish laugh like they’re nothing more than props in a circus act.

He doesn’t do it to save himself or his partners from getting hurt or any self-ingratiating bullshit like that. It’s for himself, all for himself. All to unload his balls and his mind for fifteen blissful seconds. 

There’s blood on his hands. He never cared to wash it off.

Except you are the one asking for his heart this time around, a dash of hope in your smile as you do so, and he thinks it would be his life’s greatest honor to be discarded by you.

“Sure,” he answers.

He doesn’t even last until he’s inside the car.

Your back meets the door to the passenger’s seat, guided there by his hands on your hips. From millimeters away he watches your surprise morph into understanding, then darken into lust.

“I like when we don’t talk, though.”

It’s the most annoying thing in the world to remove so many layers in such a cramped space.

Combined, your clothing forms a tower high enough to block out the driver’s window completely. An unnecessary blockade.

The glass fogs up anyways.

“Fuck, Ji, yes, right there, oh my god.”

You have your legs spread open and the back of your neck digging into the cupholder on the door. It’s not comfortable. You’re too busy getting fucked open to care.

Jisung detaches his lips from your neck to ask, “here, baby?”

The head of his cock hits that gummy spot again, harder, sweeter. You convulse, your hand scrambling for purchase in his raven locks.

“Yes, yes, yes, don’t stop, please.”

Please. The word plays over in his fuzzy mind.

It seems saying no to you is an impossible task.

His cock slips out of you and you lament the loss of contact with a high wail.

“W-why’d—where’d you go?”

He can’t help but chuckle at how incoherent you’ve become. He cradles the back of your head with a tender hand and lowers your upper body onto the leather seat, adjusting himself to your new elevation.

“Right here, beautiful. Didn’t go anywhere—promise—” 

He expels the final word through gritted teeth as he slams into you again, and the new angle is glorious. Your bodies keen in flawless harmony. Profanities tumble from his lips in a steady stream before they turn back into syllables.

“Would never go anywhere. Would never leave without making this pretty pussy cream like it deserves—holy fucking shit, baby.”

You clench around him at his words and then he’s setting a new, relentless rhythm, rocking the whole vehicle with every hearty smack of his hips against yours, your wet walls squeezing him so dreamily he thinks he sees nirvana with every thrust.

You’re enjoying it just as much, if the bubbles of spit in the corner of your mouth are any indication, and Jisung is viciously proud to be the cause. Unbelievably lucky to feel your breasts jiggling under his chest and your nails digging into the back of his neck.

“Good?” He whispers, and you nod blissfully.

“So—good, Ji, so fucking good. Your cock is perfect, fuck, I can’t even—can’t even think.”

“You’re the perfect one. Can’t believe how well your cunt takes me, shit. It’s like it was fucking made for this.”

“It was,” you breathe, and he nearly shoots his load into you at this alone. “It was, it was—oh, god, I think—think I’m gonna come—”

“Do it,” he rasps. “Come for me. Come on this cock and it’s yours.”

“R-really?”

“Really.”

“Then, I will. I’ll come on your cock—make it mine. Need it so fucking bad, I’m so fucking close, oh—please—”

He anchors himself in place with a hand against the windowsill and the other travels down your body to rub fast, tight circles into your clit. You let out a wanton, prolonged moan, tilt your head back to expose him to your fluttering throat. And then you’re pulling his lips onto yours again, and the following kiss is sloppy beyond belief, the kind that can only antedate the happiest of endings.

“My cock,” you sigh into his mouth. “Mine.”

“Forever,” is the breathy response he doesn’t know if he means, the response he gives you anyways.

And then you curl your fingers in his hair. Clamp your teeth around his lower lip. Clench your thighs around his waist. There’s liquid everywhere. Tearwater spilling down the sides of your face. Release gushing all over his dick and pelvis and backseat.

He catches up the moment he realizes what’s just happened. Pulls out of you. Presses his head against the roof of his car. Spits on his hand. Pumps his pulsating cock. Sends himself over the edge you’ve just finished tripping over.

Eventually, he regains feeling in his limbs.

He opens his eyes, surveys the damage, and grins.

Your stomach is covered in ropes of white, your expression hidden behind your hands. You start shaking your head in profuse embarrassment the moment you feel his eyes on you.

“You squirted,” he says.

“I know,” you almost yell, and his grin erupts into a laugh.

He lowers himself back over you, takes your wrists, and removes them from your blushing face. He doesn’t think he’s seen you so flustered before and it has him palpitating in ways he never thought feasible.

Maybe he did mean the damn thing after all.

He pushes off the strands of hair clinging to your damp forehead and replaces them with a gentle kiss. “It was sexy as fuck and you’re everything.” 

There’s a certain softness in your eyes when he pulls away. He hopes, for your sake, it’s all in his head.

His car is in need of aftercare most of all. You shrug on your clothes with considerable effort and get to work, all while sharing comfortable chatter and easy laughter.

Those things persist during your dinner date at a nearby Chinese restaurant and the drive back to your place, which Jisung knows well enough to no longer need his GPS. Those things persist until he kisses you goodbye on your doorstep, because he would have to be fucking crazy not to after you gave him the best night he’s had in so long.

After you reminded him that he’s still capable of comfort and ease, in spite of it all.

Snow comes a few weeks into the new year. 

This winter, it falls late, and it falls hard, like a gust of breath expelled from drawn lungs at the very last minute. Held there as if lying in wait for something unnamed and unseen. 

The gust of breath is too quiet to be heard over the one Jisung lets out against the shell of your ear. “Wait here.”

He goes to roll off you. You don’t let him just yet, darting your hand around his wrist and bringing his face back within centimeters of yours.

Han Jisung is beautiful. You knew it for the first time at that houseparty and you’ve known it every hour of every day since. But it’s always clearest to you in the afterglow, when his bare skin is golden and sticky and his delicate lips bitten to bright fuchsia. 

When his irises have gone black and you see stars, flaring in the absence of light.

You close the distance that remains between you. Your lips part with a content sigh. Your hands drift over the slant of his neck; his find home in the dips above your waist.

He breaks away once you’re both out of breath, and the pad of his thumb wipes lightly at your lower lip.

“Everything okay?”

“Yes,” you reply shyly. “I couldn’t help myself.”

The smile this brings to his face reminds you of a candle’s flame. Soft on the eyes and scalding to the touch when he presses it back against your lips. Once, twice.

“Can you wipe your cum off me now?” You whisper, and he laughs straight into your mouth.

The mattress lifts. His footsteps grow quieter. You shiver in his absence.

Only then do you notice the blizzard.

You stumble off the bed to throw your curtains aside. Snow descends from the sky like spools of unraveling yarn. The streetlights have been reduced to foggy specks, the parked cars to blurry heaps. Every sidewalk and rooftop in sight has already been slathered in ivory.

Jisung announces his return with a disbelieving whistle.

“Am I dreaming?” You murmur.

“When did that happen?”

“I have no idea.”

You don’t even notice the wild smile on your face until you turn to him and catch his reaction to it. He looks like he’s asking himself the same question.

“C’mere,” he hums, and you oblige.

He laves the warm towel over your breasts and stomach, as well as the places his release has trickled since you flung yourself to your feet. All while supporting the small of your back with a touch fatally careful, an expression wholly adoring. All evidence of just how blurry the line between sexual escapade and lover has become in two short months.

Your ribcage fucking throbs.

“You don’t seem excited,” you say.

He finishes cleaning you off. You give him a distracted thank you, noticing the sudden shadow draped over his face like a netted veil.

“I’m not,” he answers, not unkindly.

“You don’t like snow?”

“Not really.”

“Why?”

He circles around the bed to get dressed. You bend to pick up the clothes tossed aside earlier and drop them into your hamper, then slip into a clean pair of underwear and sweatpants.

“It’s a long story.”

Just as you reach for a top, a bundle of cloth travels in an arc across your bedroom and hooks itself around the crook of your arm. His T-shirt. 

You glance at Jisung. He’s already looking elsewhere, but his private smile makes its way onto your face as you slip it on.

“Well, I have time.” You sink into your mattress, now surrounded by his muted musk, his papyrus and petrichor. “We’ll be stuck here a while, after all.”

“Stuck?” Jisung repeats, the lanyard of his car keys dangling from the pocket of his hoodie, his feet turned towards the door.

A pregnant pause commences. His intentions dawn, and you gape.

“You’re not driving right now.”

He breaks eye contact.

“Right?”

That was the plan, you read in his expression.

You know better than trying to reverse a river’s current by kicking up rocks. You know better than trying to curtail the flight of an albatross by clipping its wings.

You know better than asking someone who thinks he was made to leave to stay.

And you won’t.

“I have somewhere to be early tomorrow morning,” he stammers, the lines terribly rehearsed. “The snow’s not heavy, I’ll be—”

“Stay.”

You’re not asking.

Jisung looks at you, startled, as you glide across the bed. You place your feet on the hardwood and circle your arms around his waist. Lace your fingers upon the hollow of his back. His pulse goes uneven at your abrupt proximity.

Akin to the drag of a feather, you mouth at his cheek, then the side of his neck.

“You can stay, Jisung.”

He shudders at your words, and you’ve got him.

It’s oddly normal, the sight of him clambering into your bed in your clothing—a pair of old sweatpants and your favorite crewneck—like this isn’t the first time you’re sleeping together in your two months of sleeping together.

In fact, the only indication of anything unordinary is the floaty feeling in your stomach when your head hits the pillow and discover Jisung’s face only inches away. He drapes an arm over your waist, gathering you close. You nuzzle into the crook of his neck.

The inevitable question follows.

“Can I save the story for another time?”

“Sure,” you return, keeping your voice small. He doesn’t hear your disappointment this way. “Should we go to sleep, then?”

“We should.”

Your foreheads touch. Your noses bump together. Your eyes cross, watching the adoration pull at his. You dimly register your hand threading in his fluffy locks, his thumb running over your cheekbone. Your lashes narrowly miss the surface of his eyes, and then he tips your face up by millimeters.

You don’t remember when you fall asleep. You only recall the hour beforehand that you spend with Jisung’s lips traversing yours, like you are the ocean and he’s uncovering new waters with every bruise he prints against your throat, every suckle he leaves around your tongue.

In your dream, the roles reverse and you are the one exploring him, mapping out his constellations with wide-eyed wonder.

You wake to a black hole.

For the first five seconds, you see nothing. You hear nothing. You feel nothing. You only blink in the darkness, your mind kicking into groggy gear to ask the very good question of why you’re conscious again.

Instinct moves your hand across the mattress. Empty space greets you where Jisung should be. Unfounded dread shoves your back off the bed. You gasp, the sound seeming to echo in the cavernous silence.

Your eyes adjust enough to discern light in the crack beneath your door, and you’re wide awake.

The following events go by in a blur. You stumble out of bed and into your closet, fastening your fingers around the thickest piece of fabric you find. You fly into the living room, where the lamp by the couch is left on and the pair of worn black Converse on your doormat have gone missing.

The front door is cracked open, and through the narrow inches you spot someone hunched on the stairs outside, his dark hair dyed platinum by the awning light’s fluorescence.

Your heart stills in relief, then quickens with anxiety.

You’ve tried wearing this crewneck in January enough times to know you can’t. In fact, you suspect that it somehow soaks up the temperature, lets it seep in between its every seam until it becomes one with the bitter winds. 

But he isn’t shivering, you notice as you take a seat next to him, draping the puffer over both of your shoulders on your way down. He’s simply staring off into the bleak storm, snowflakes sitting atop his head like a coating of ash, their color matching that of his frozen skin. He’s becoming one with the bitter winds. 

At first, you don’t recognize the man in front of you.

You’re well familiar with those ring-laden hands and the whetted jawline thrown into shadow, those remnants of cologne clinging to his frame. But you have never seen that gaze before, bloodshot and bleak and belonging to somebody new. Somebody who isn’t completely here, straddling the partition between the realms of people and phantoms.

Then he lifts his eyes and you see stars, flaring in the absence of light. Your stars.

And you recognize him for the first time ever.

You drop your hand to your hip, and his fingers feel stiff and cold and perfect, sliding into the spaces between yours.

“Why don’t you like snow?” You ask.

Jisung’s eyes return to the swirling sleet, but he moves your interlocked hands to rest on his thigh, and you know that he’s with you.

He’s been having this nightmare.

It takes place in a small clearing. It’s winter, and everything is covered in snow. Not the gentle kind that you can catch on your tongue, but the unyielding kind that’s hard and dense and covered in cracks, like a lake newly frozen over.

Somebody is in front of him, walking away. He can only see their back. He wants to chase after them. He doesn’t want to be left behind. But there are ghosts nearby, and they’ll split his skull open on the permafrost and tie his windpipe into a pretty bow if he so much as dreams of pursuit. He always does. He doesn’t know how not to.

Normally, the back leaves, and he can do nothing but remain. He can direct his loathing only to the snow into which he bleeds. 

Normally, he waits for the dream to end with something bordering on boredom. He’s seen this movie too many times. He fucking hates how it ends.

This time, though, the snow tastes like something.

After the flavors deliquesce upon his tongue, his head shoots up, his eyes blowing wide as they latch onto the retreating figure. He knows who it is.

His feet scrabbles against the ice with his attempts to rise to them. He lunges forward with frenzied resolve, and that is when the ghosts snap his neck.

He wakes up.

“Cherry blossoms and vanilla.”

You blink, tearwater streaking from your eyes in silent, steaming trails.

“That’s—”

My shampoo.

A broken sob escapes you in lieu of the rest of your sentence, and Jisung laughs, a flimsy facade that crumbles when he lifts his hand to dab at your moistened cheeks and it’s trembling.

“Silly,” he murmurs. “I’m used to it now.”

“I don’t want you to be.”

“I don’t want you to cry for me.”

“You died.”

“And I would do it again.”

This response comes without an shred of hesitation.

You first realized you had something to confess, that night in the the back of Jisung’s SUV. You’ve kept it locked away for your sake and his, even moreso. You see how fear clings to him like an unshakeable wraith, and you refuse to feed the parasite.

Now, your confession explodes from its fortress in the center of your soul and rises up your larynx. You panic like an inept security guard letting their only prisoner bolt free. Is it really the right time? Do you know what to say? Have you really thought this through? 

Too late. It’s rushing to the point of your tongue already. You suppose you’ll find out.

He saves you the trouble.

“Honestly?”

Your confession stills. 

“I don’t know if I’m okay, and I won’t try to convince you otherwise. You’d call my bluff. You’re good at that.

“But everything feels okay when I’m with you. You see me. You allow me just to exist as I am. You make me feel human again—you make me want to feel human again. You empty my mind.”

You feel as if you’ve been ejected into space naked, griping for air where there is none.

“I never believed in having somebody to lose,” he utters, gently leaning his forehead against yours. “But I would rather disappear than watch you go.”

You cradle his jaw with shaking fingers, trying and failing to quell the violence of your emotion.

“Don’t go,” he exhales.

You kiss him.

It should feel the same as before. You reach for the slant of his neck, him the dips above your waist. You sigh into him, parting your lips, and he moves into you deeper, harder, dipping into your mouth with his tongue’s pliant swipe. But there’s something new in the way you hold each other, in the seal of your mouth against his.

The line between sexual escapade and lover vanishes as if swept off the sand and into the sea. His stars come out of hiding at last and they bathe you in their residue, light your heart aglow.

Your confession resurfaces. It wants to stargaze also.

“I love you too,” you breathe.

The night comes and goes.

The two of you spend it entangling, sweating, your lips glued the expanse of his neck and the arcs of his shoulders, writing over the ghosts’ injuries with bruises of your making.

Only when the winds have faltered outside do you attempt to rest again. You are curled up in balmy bliss, utterly depleted. Jisung’s arms around your middle and legs threaded among yours bring you that much closer to slumber’s cusp.

You attribute it to your exhaustion when he mumbles something against you, and you have no idea what it means: “Thank you for refracting me.” 

Your confusion is palpable in your silence. His laugh hits the nape of your neck with a gentle puff, and he kisses the spot just beneath your ear. “Never mind.”

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© 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐱 (est. 090323) · 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other writing here. thanks so much for the support!

[thisblogisaboutabook]

Rainy Season

Azriel x Reader

An angsty little one shot. Azriel’s mate is tired of being at the bottom of his list of priorities.

Update: Due to popular demand, this is being made into a series!

Part 2

The air’s getting heavy and we both know why

There was a time when an evening like this brought solace to my weary soul.

Azriel’s hand wrapped around my waist, caressing my stomach, pressing soft kisses to the juncture of my neck and shoulder. His hair tickling against my sensitive skin as we hid under blankets absorbing the incessant melody of drip, drop, drip, drop and the echoing pitter patter of rain drops hitting the roof. His warmth seeping right through to the coldest depths of my soul.

I’d turn around, pressing my bare breasts against his muscled chest. Our breath hitching as his sunburst eyes of brown, amber, and gold bore into mine, his soft lips whispering promises of forever.

Say that this storm is just passing through

But Azriel wasn’t here. He hadn’t been for 6 days, 23 hours, and 50 minutes now. It would have been laughable, comparing the past to now, if it weren’t so damned sad. In the beginning there’d been long, doting love notes with risqué quips regarding his intentions upon coming home, little gifts that he couldn’t resist bringing back from his travels, and the stolen hours where he’d sneak in a visit during the intermittent downtime on his missions. As a realist, I knew that it was not sustainable long-term but relished in it as the gift it was. Newly formed, passionate love that exceeded anything I had ever imagined upon finding my cauldron-blessed mate.

As the years went on I understood when the love notes became briefs and the thoughtful gifts became pecks on the cheek as he hurried through the door to exchange his leathers for clean ones, wipe down his weapons, and rest before his next mission. But time went on, as is inevitable, and distant were the memories of stolen moments away from missions, the desperate caress of his hands roaming my body as if he couldn’t quite believe I was fully corporeal before him - needing to touch me to reassure him that this was real. Now the touches were detached, perfunctory, another task on his never-ending to-do list.

Drop after drop we’re destroying this house and eachother.

The boiling point had been simmering for a while, left on the fire with reassurances of “Things are just busy right now”, “It’ll slow down soon”, “I would stay if I could, love. You know I would. I have no choice.”

But we both knew all too well that there was always a choice. There were times when Rhys let it slip that Azriel had volunteered for missions that his other spies were perfectly suited for, times when all I wanted in the world was to be curled up and listening to the rain with my mate.

Missions became tasks with the Valkyries, “chaperoning” Cassian and Nesta, and emotionally supporting the lovely doe-eyed fawn - Elain - who was the delicate cherry blossom of spring opposite of my wild summertime storm.

It wasn’t her fault. The trauma inflicted upon her, the loss of autonomy that came with being thrown into the cauldron and having her mortality stripped away without her say. The powers she never asked for overwhelming her senses. Hell, maybe it wasn’t Azriel’s fault for responding to the traumas of his past and the need to overcompensate for every ounce of blood he’s drawn by saving anything and everything that needed rescuing.

The problem lay with the fact that where Elain is a “seer”, my ability to “sense” when things are amiss was strong and Azriel’s intentions with her were becoming blurred. Feelings of lust had become more frequent down the bond along with flutters of joy and adoration. When it began I thought maybe things would look up in our relationship - he was missing me, fisting his cock to fantasies of taking me over and over when he returned home - but he only became more distant. He’d return more often than not smelling of jasmine and honey. The strength of the scent coating him correlating with the increase in enamored feelings slipping through the bond.

Six days ago when I’d asked him to skip out on training with Cassian and Nesta and whatever it was he and Elain would do - that was when the thunder clapped and the sky opened. “I can’t just stay home and cater to you all the time. I have duties to this court. Why can’t you find a hobby to occupy your time? Nesta reads and trains with the Valkyries, Feyre paints, Elain gardens and she evens bakes! Why can’t you be more like-“

He caught himself too late, immediately reaching out to place a gentle hand on my shoulder and apologize but it was too late for that.

Please, make it stop

It wasn’t that I wasn’t a forgiving or understanding person. i appreciated his dedication to his court and family and those in need but…

“Why can’t I be more like what? You can stop mid-sentence but you already said it all.” I looked down, shaking my head as silver lined my eyes. Gods, I hate that I’m an angry crier. “You want to know why I can’t be more like Elain in your eyes, Azriel? Because I exist in your fucking blind spot! I have been helping Feyre AT the studio, volunteering at a food pantry in Velaris, and teaching self-defense classes to women and children at the park but you wouldn’t know because you never ask me what I’ve been up to while you’re gone.”

He started to speak but I wasn’t finished. “The reason I cannot be more like Elain, or Feyre, or Nesta is because I’m none of them. I am ME. And you know what? I like me. I don’t want to be anybody else.” Trying and failing miserably to hold my head high I pathetically fell to my knees, shuddering as tears of rage flowed freely.

Warmth enveloped me as Azriel knelt down to soothe my quaking form. I let him if only because I didn’t have the composure to tell him otherwise as he began pressing kisses to my forehead. “I’m so sorry. I have been a terrible mate. I love all that you are- I- I’ll stop with Elain. She’s doing much better and Nuala and Cerridwen can keep an eye on her, so can Rhys and Cassian, and her sisters. It will be okay.”

That consolation attempt only drove the blade of bitterness deeper into my heart. Elain had so many in her corner and who did I have anymore? My chronically absent mate? The family I left behind to move to Velaris with Azriel? There was nobody close by.

“I think you should leave.” I sobbed out.

Azriel ignored the shaky command, continuing to hold me. Fuck - is this what it took for him to notice me? Breaking my heart so he could stitch it back up again?

“Azriel.” I stated firmly.

He met my eyes.

“You should leave.”

His look grew puzzled. “I thought you wanted me to stay - to spend time together? Please, Y/N. Let me make this better.”

“I need space. Give me one week.”

“But-“

“One. Week.”

Azriel’s shoulders slumped, head hanging low for several minutes before realizing that my decision was firm.

“I love you.” He said before heading out the door.

——————

Like clockwork as 7 days, 0 hours, and 1 minute were up, the front door to our home opened and Azriel’s footsteps padded in behind me, my gaze remaining fixated on the rain falling outside the window. A lump formed in my throat as I avoided turning to meet his gaze.

So dance one more dance and tell one more lie.

Azriel stepped around me, wordlessly extending a hand, patiently waiting as I avoided his gaze a moment longer before taking it. His shadows began humming faintly, increasing their melody and reaching a crescendo as Azriel began dancing with me through the room.

Say that you love me even if it’s not true

I let myself melt into the warmth of his chest. The thick air remained heavy upon my soul but I could have this. I could let myself enjoy this moment.

We wordlessly danced through the room in the soft glow of the fae lights.

We made our way through the hall into our shared bed that had become so neglected.

“I love you, Y/N.” he murmured as he laid me down, stripped bare underneath him.

“I love you too, Azriel.”

——————

Wish I could just say it and words were enough to keep you from being the one giving up.

The middle of the night left me restless as he lay soundly asleep beside me. My senses tugged me toward his bag that he’d discarded at the entryway. I brought out his dirty clothes from the week only to be greeted with the fresh scent of jasmine and honey.

Like the sky letting go for no reason

I packed my essentials and voyaged out into the pouring rain. Its patter on my skin washing away the salty tears streaming down my face. Following my senses to where the love was true back to my Summer Court home, my family. As free as a summer storm.

It's just the rainy season.

—————————————

A/n - I know there are plenty of Azriel x Reader and Elain fics out there. It was rainy and dreary here yesterday and this song was in my head for the first time in like 10 years so…. I wrote this.

[madamechrissy]

Fractured Desires

ꕥ Pairings: Suguru Geto x Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader It's a mess tbh lol

ꕥ Warnings-MDNI-explicit sexual content, Satoru Gojo is a mean little shit, there will be a lot of threesomes/ foursomes/ complicated shit and some infidelity and confusion. There is some physical description of the readers height/body, don't read if too unimmersive for you. Angst and smut and yandere Gojo behavior. In this chapter- Toxic Asshole Gojo, and toxicc hoe Geto

ꕥ Word Count this chap- 8.7k

ꕥ Summary- You meet Suguru Geto at your work, he is charming, gorgeous, and has a poly lifestyle. You jump in, and you all share women and have way too much fun. But then it's starting to get serious between you, official even. He can't wait to have you meet his best friend. But... Satoru Gojo hates you. The minute you meet. He gives you no reason, but he's nasty to you, no matter what you try. Suguru finally has enough of Satoru being so mean and brings up the idea - 'let's have you two fuck this frustration out'

Satoru hates you because deep down wants to make you his. He doesn't even understand how Suguru could ever want anyone but you. Though it's a horrible idea, he agrees to share you with Suguru for a chance to touch you and... The moment he touches you...Rules are bent and broken, Suguru develops feelings for another girl, and Satoru gets further obsessed with you, while you're left confused... will everyone get hurt?

Masterlist

ꕥChapter 1 ꕥ

Satoru's POV

Satoru Gojo hates you. No, he really hates you.

As Suguru and you walk in, hand in hand, and he sees your pretty eyes all lit up, he realizes he despises you more than anything. Hates how you smile at him, how you look at Suguru so adoringly, he really hates how positive and sweet you are, especially to him, when he’s a dick to you.

Why don’t you stop? Just be a bitch back or something, be real with him, but no, you’re perfect aren’t you? Just a perfect girl, beautiful, though he doesn’t find you attractive, no way . Even though he can see every curve in that dress you wear, your lush breasts swaying (because why can’t you wear a bra) your hips swaying, your little waist where it juts in.

You have a gorgeous body, but he doesn’t care, he doesn’t care your skin glows, and your cheeks get pink. He hates that. He hates every bit of you, as you stand there, so tiny compared to Suguru and him, so tiny he could throw you. Tiny and evil. Sure you’ve been nothing but nice but he knows you’re awful somewhere in there, because who can be so sweet?

As you bounce in his office, holding a little envelope that was pink just like the dress you wore (god you’re so girly, you annoy him that way too) Satoru Gojo just scowls at you, then looks to Suguru. Suguru looks like a puppy so in love with you already, and how, it hadn’t been that long had it…

“Happy birthday, Gojo!” You beam at him, coming to his desk and leaning forward, hugging him around his neck. He tenses then.

Your collarbone is so inviting and delicate, right against his face, as your breasts are soft on his own chest, the weight of them so intoxicating. You smell so sweet, like cherry blossoms, he hates that, hates you. He hates how much his arms itch to wrap back, how much his hands want to slide up your back, grip those pretty tits that are killing him.

Fuck he hates you.

“Ahem…” You awkwardly step back as he just sits there, and he glares at you, making your pretty face fall for a moment.

Good.

Your POV

“Sorry, got carried away. I am so excited to give you this gift!” You hand him the pink envelope, and Suguru comes closer, leaning on Satoru’s desk and smirking.

“Open it baby boy.” Suguru teases, and Satoru rolls his pretty blue eyes.

“A gift would be not having to see you.” He says tersely, glaring at you then, and how did someone so stunning and beautiful look at you so mean . For what?

You tense then, and Suguru has a glare on his handsome face, coming to wrap an arm around your waist gently but assuredly. His big hand is warm on your hip, and you watch Satoru’s bright blue eyes hone in on them like a hawk. Suguru leans forward and presses his lips against your temple, firm hot lips that you adored, and you instantly relax.

“Satoru, she’s just trying to be nice, could you please just try not to be such a colossal dick?” Suguru asks calmly, and Satoru lowers his gaze back to the envelope again.

Satoru Gojo hates you. You don’t know why.

You’ve been dating Suguru for only three months, so not a very long time, but you’d known him for a little longer, he’d come into the club you work at on the weekends, and would sit at the bar and talk to you. Until one night you got the hint, and did go home with him, and fuck if it wasn’t the best decision. Suguru Geto was absolutely amazing in every way possible.

You both had fallen into an easy situation-ship, as Suguru was very open sexually, and though you weren’t at first, he made it fun. You were bisexual, so you all started just having fun together with a couple gorgeous girls, and fuck Suguru was superb in bed too. The thoughts alone make you tremble.

You all ended up developing feelings and deciding to be together, and exclusively date even if you all had fun in the room, you both promised to only ‘date’ each other. It was weird, and not common, but it seemed to work. You loved watching Suguru get pleased by another woman, and he loved to watch you get pleased.

Even though he hadn’t said he loved you, you had let it slip during one particular love making session alone together. Definitely had to do with Suguru’s tongue honestly. He had said he needed some time, which was fine with you, because Suguru treated you like some queen.

He took care of you, he was there for you, shit he spoiled you honestly. Though he was with other women sexually, he only dated you, and he’d even offered to bring a guy in the bedroom. But you weren’t sure about that sort of thing, with a guy.

When you’d met his best friend, and fuck you’d been so excited, Suguru talked him up like he was amazing, he clearly adored him, so much so you wondered if they were together together, perhaps in the past. Suguru brought up that they'd shared women and everything, and of course when you saw Satoru Gojo your heart had faltered.

He was beautiful, this tall white haired man with a perfect face and baby blue eyes, the yin to Suguru’s yang. Both of them were the most gorgeous men you’d seen. Suguru had talked so much about how Satoru was just the absolute best person, how he would adore you, because Suguru did. Bright and funny, and a loyal friend, almost like family.

Welp.

The Satoru Gojo you met was mean . Nasty. He looked at you like you were something disgusting to him, and he had not once smiled your way, and you have absolutely no clue what you’ve done. You have tried everything, to the point Suguru has brought up not hanging out with him as much, but you never want to ruin a friendship, and you insist he keeps trying.

But no matter what, any time you were around, Satoru had nothing nice to say, no he had mean things to say. Sometimes so cruel Suguru and him would fight, and Satoru would sort of apologize, once Suguru backed off hanging out with him. Which was hard, since they work together in the same building, both running the same damn company together.

You hate that you come between them.

“Yeah, yeah… my birthday is tomorrow.” He slides a silver letter opener to tear open the envelope then.

“She wanted to give it to you today.”

“Hmm… holy fuck!” He runs a hand through his silky white hair, as his full lips part in a gasp, staring at the tickets. “This is front and center for the game tomorrow!? How, these are sold out!?”

“I got them last month. Suguru brought up how much you love going to those games and I got a deal on them.” You say, and Suguru smiles down at you, looking so handsome, you brush back his long locks, kissing his cheek and giggling.

“Knew he’d love it.” Suguru murmurs, and you get just a bit of hope, until Satoru pulls the tickets out.

“Three?” He says haughtily, glaring those ridiculously pretty blue eyes up at you then, blinking those spiky white lashes. You sigh.

“Yeah, I thought we could all go? If that’s okay!” You wring your hands nervously in front of you.

“Of course it’s okay, right Satoru?”

“Can I take someone else?” He asks, and you feel your chest tighten. Suguru opens his mouth, brows low over his brown eyes, but you stop him.

“Um, it’s your gift. Of course you can. I didn’t mean to impose.” He sighs, rolling his eyes, leaning back in the big black office chair and thrumming his fingers on the mahogany desk like he’s bored.

“You don’t care? You bought them, and a pretty penny I bet.” You just blink back that emotion, smiling brightly, earning a scowl.

“It’s your gift and I shouldn’t have been so sure you’d want me to go. So of course, but please take Suguru.”

“Babe-”

“It’s fine!”

“Oh I’ll take Suguru.” He smirks, and it’s a nasty one, too nasty to be on such a pretty face, as he eyes your body up and down. “Think I’ll invite a really pretty girl, someone banging hot.”

You tense at his words, and Suguru does too. “Yeah, what now? As if she’s not drop dead gorgeous, please fuck all the way off. You can dislike her but don’t lie.”

You’re bright red, and barely held in tears make your vision blur as Satoru casually assesses you. “Mmm… she’s okay I guess. I meant actually hot.”

“I’m just gonna go.” You whisper then, trembling as he so casually douses the small bit of self esteem you have, the one that Suguru had helped you with.

“Apologize, now, because you know it’s bullshit. I know you stare at her so cut the shit.” Suguru’s voice gets dark, deep and authoritative, and Satoru frowns then.

“I didn’t say she’s ugly or something. As if that matters to her .”

“I’m right here, you know.” You cut in then, tilting your chin up, and Satoru stands up then, hands in his pockets.

“All right, surely you know the caliber of women I get. How do you stack up, short stuff?” He is right in front of you, bent down, and your tears escape, just two of them, but you quickly blink and look down.

“Satoru, I swear to fucking-”

“It’s fine, Suguru.” You whisper, swiping at your eyes then facing him, the man who so casually says you’re basically unattractive. “I’m sure you get much prettier women than me. I don’t think I’m very pretty, by the way.”

He glares then, a snarl on his lips. “You’re full of shit, I know you think you’re hot shit, I see it in the way you act, the way you walk.”

“You don’t know shit. You don’t know anything about me. You can call me ugly all the fuck you want but don’t pretend to know who I am inside.” He blinks his white lashes, leaning back a bit and opening his mouth.

“Baby…”

“I didn’t say you’re ugly, I just…”

“Said I’m nothing like girls you get. Said I’m not hot.”

“You’re not hot to me.”

“Good, I shouldn’t be! I’m not your girlfriend.”

“Well thank god I can’t imagine having to wake up and look at that face in the morning.” You back up then, and the tears do flow, and for just a moment you see Satoru’s face fall, as if maybe he realized how horrible he is.

But too late, you just want to leave.

“Satoru I’m fucking done, you- baby don’t go.” You shake your head as he holds on to you.

“I’ll leave and stop ruining your day. Have a good birthday, Gojo.” You murmur, and he opens his lips to say something, but you cut him off with a wave of your hand, leaning up to kiss Suguru then. “I overstepped.”

“You didn’t, he’s being-”

“Text me later.” He reaches for you but you turn and walk out the door, your chest heaving, trying not to show tears so embarrassingly in the busy office, struggling to just catch a breath.

Satoru’s POV

“I’m not going with you. I’m so fucking done. You’ve been a dick but this is too far even for you.” Suguru shoves Satoru then, and Satoru starts to hate himself, more than he already has been lately.

“She knows she’s gorgeous, she just wants attention.”

“You have no clue what she does or doesn’t know. When I met her she was so down on herself, it’s taken a lot just to get her to feel pretty, now you go and fuck that up for her.”

Satoru pauses, lips tensing as they are pressed together, and he sees you walk out of the office from the window, and when he sees you it hurts his heart. Your hands are in your face as if you’re crying into them, and that little pink dress and your long hair are flowing in the wind, you look like some painting out there, so perfect and tiny in the big city.

Fuck.

“I was just trying to get a rise-”

“She spent so much money on those. Just for you to maybe not hate her, and what do you do, make her cry? I’m done.”

“Suguru… I just didn’t think that someone who looks like that…”

“Like what?”

“She’s beautiful and yes I know she is. Not blind. How does she not know she is?” Satoru runs a hand through his silvery hair, and Suguru glares.

“So instead of saying that you make up some bullshit? Not like the girls you get!? She’s prettier than anyone you’ve fucked.”

Satoru lets out a dejected sigh. “Yeah. I know.”

“Then what… what the fuck is your problem! What has she ever done? She even tells me to hang out with you when I don’t want to.”

Satoru pauses. “She does?”

“Yeah, she sure does, or I wouldn’t talk to you aside from business. She pleads your case as you down her, trash her. I know it’s only been a few months, but she is important to me.” Satoru’s heart hurts, as he looks back out the window, and of course you’re gone, probably still crying because of him.

And he’d lied right to your face.

You believed him, too.

How? When you’re so beautiful, how could you not know how just your glittering eyes looking at him tear his heart out of his chest? And that was why Satoru hates you so very much, because of that.

How can he look at his best friend’s girl like that? No, he must hate you instead, because if he lets his guard down…

It’d be over for him.

“Satoru, you aren’t fucking listening.”

Satoru looks at his best friend, seeing the anguish in his face, and it makes him feel even worse. “Sorry. I’m sorry, okay?”

“How could you be so mean, even to a stranger let alone her? It’s not even like you. It’s like I don’t know who you are. And if this is jealousy for her time with me, she always makes sure we have time alone, so-”

“I know she does. I know she’s perfect. I know she’s beautiful. And, I know she is a sweet person who’s only been nice to me. Okay!?”

“So what the fuck-”

“I hate her.”

Suguru blinks in confusion, crossing his arms then, tilting his head to the side to study his best friend. “Why though?”

Satoru’s hands grip his desk so tightly the knuckles go white. “I don’t know what to tell you, I just do.”

“You want me to break up with her don’t you?”

“Yep.”

“So what, I can be miserable and lonely like you?”

“Fuck you, Sugu. I fuck plenty.”

“And I fuck plenty.”

“Her though.”

“Yeah, her but… we bring girls in.” Satoru blinks at that again, imagining you with another woman makes him stupidly hard in his trousers, and he huffs as he turns away so Suguru wouldn’t notice. “So surprised?”

“She seems like a goody goody.”

Why would Suguru want to fuck another girl anyway, when he had you ?

“Brought Utahime home last week and fucked her.” Satoru glares over at Suguru behind his shoulder.

“Both of you?”

“Mmmhmm.”

“And you eiffel towering over this girl too?”

“No. We haven’t done anything with a guy. She hasn’t wanted to, and yes, I offered. I am not one sided.”

“Hmm.” Is all Satoru answers, then Suguru breaks into a little laugh. “What’s so funny?”

“You wanna fuck her. How did I not see this?”

“Do not! What, no.”

“Maybe if you weren’t such a dick she’d go for it. She thinks you’re hot, you know.” Satoru frowns, turning back to Suguru then.

“What, like you all are poly? Why? Isn’t she… enough?”

“That’s a weird question from you. It’s just what works for us right now, but yes she would be enough for me if she wanted to go exclusive. I was already poly when we met, she was a little hesitant but jumped right into it.”

“Huh. Well, I don’t wanna fuck your girl. That would be…”

“Sure you don’t. It’s like when a kid picks on a girl, so childish. You could have just told me that you wanted to.”

It was beyond that. Satoru didn’t wanna just fuck you, he wanted to be with you, kiss you, worship you, fuck he wanted to breed you even, bend you over his desk and cum inside you. It was horrible, the thoughts, as he jerked off in his bed at night to one of your photos he’d sent himself from Suguru’s phone.

Yep it was that bad.

Even this offer? It would never work.

“Maybe just try to be nice, and spend the night.” Satoru looks at Suguru like he's lost it. How was he so calm about you? About sharing you?

“You want me to fuck your girl with you, Sugu? You crazy?”

“If it would get you all to get along, absolutely.”

“She hates me.”

“No, she should, but she doesn’t.” How could you not hate him? Satoru is wracking his brain, trying to figure you out. Were you perfect? “Anyway I’m out, at least ask her to go to the game with us, would you please? And apologize.”

“I can’t just text her.” Suguru rolls his eyes.

“Why not?”

Because he would lose his mind if your name popped up on his goddamn phone, that’s why.

“Tell her it’s fine if she comes. I’ll… apologize at the game.”

“That’s as good as it’ll get I suppose. Bye, asshole.”

Suguru leaves, and Satoru’s mind is a blur, as he digests the type of relationship you and Suguru clearly have, and it was not what he expected. Suguru damn near said ‘fuck my girl’. What would he even do if he touched you? If he tasted you. The thought makes his mouth water, makes his cock hard.

Did you taste as good as you smell? Fuck.

He wouldn’t even wanna share you if you were his, not even with his best friend. Luckily he hates you. Right?

***

Your POV

You’re at the basketball game the next day, dressed up in the white and blue little outfit Suguru had picked out for you, the team’s colors, and you sit awkwardly next to Satoru and Suguru. Satoru has barely talked to you all night, but he’s been nothing but civil, which is as good as you can imagine.

You don’t know why he even invited you after the way he talked to you yesterday, and he sure has not apologized, but here you are. It did take some convincing from Suguru though.

(earlier that day)

“Ah, Sugu… oh f-fuck yes, there there!” Suguru’s tongue was lavishing your little clit, and he sucked it into his mouth, chocolate eyes darting up your body as he hummed on it, making you fall apart under him. “S’good… oh my…”

You’re cumming all over Suguru Geto’s handsome face, and he pulls back with a grin, licking his lips, half his face covered in your arousal. “Princess, I could do this all fucking day. Tastes so good.”

“Sugu… you’re so… mnh!” He’s slid a long finger in you now, curling it up just so, and you see stars then. Suguru could play your little cunt like it was an instrument, his fingers finding that little spot and hitting it again and again.

“Cum again for me, please, Princess.” He cooes the words, and you just arch your hips up as he grabs the fat of your ass, using his fingers and tongue in sync, until you’re completely spent, cumming all over his hands as he sips you up.

“Oh my God, Sugu.” You mumble, left incoherent when he leans over you, kissing your lips softly. You moan into it, clinging to him.

“You have the best little pussy.” You flush then.

“You don’t have to say that, I know you enjoy…” Huh, does it hurt your feelings a bit? No it can’t.

“Sure I do enjoy, but I mean it. The best.” He kisses your lips softly. “You’re my favorite.”

You for some reason doubt it.

You hate that.

“What’s wrong Princess? He has you that down? Imma beat his ass when I see him.” You shake your head, sighing then. “He said he thinks you’re beautiful, you know, and that he was surprised you believed him.”

“That’s… no. Just no. I don’t believe that for shit.”

“He did say it. I know he’s being awful but I almost think it’s because he wants to fuck you.”

“What!?” Your brows raise at that, and Suguru sighs, brushing back your hair then.

“We have played with what, four women now? Haven’t you thought of playing with a guy?”

“Are you into guys? I don’t mind if you want to…”

“No, but I’m very comfortable, especially with Satoru. And you’re not very experienced, you know, it could be fun for you. I’m like the only guy you’ve been with damn near.”

“What you’re hinting at is insane. I know you shared women but they weren’t girlfriends or anything right?”

“No, they weren’t. But sometimes I wonder if you all need to fuck this frustration on each other.”

“Satoru would never wanna fuck me.”

“Baby…”

“What, did you not hear him?”

“Yeah I did, and I’m so sorry you had to go through that. But let’s not bullshit here, the man can’t get his goddamn eyes off you.”

“In hatred! Anyway no, just no. It would never happen.”

“So you don’t wanna fuck him, hmm?” Suguru grasps you by your wrists then, and you shake your head, crying out when he slides his fingers down your tummy, trembling under his hand. “What about if I have him eat this pretty pussy while you suck my cock?”

“Suguru, what!? Like he would. Silly- mnh… stop.” He’s rubbing your little entrance, and you start soaking his hand, embarrassingly.

“Don’t want us both to eat you out, at the same time?” You whine, pathetically, as Suguru grins then, so handsome and devious. “She sure does.”

“She’s stupid. I only want you.” Then you frown a bit, as you think of the situation you two are in. “S-Suguru… will you always want other women?”

He frowns too, shaking his head, kissing down your jaw. “If you ever wanted to be exclusive I would for you, Princess. Say the word.”

“Would it be like a sacrifice-”

“Not at all. I love the fun we have though. But I would not care if it didn’t happen. I think I need to give you some fun, make you feel so beautiful.” He's trailing his hands down your body ever so slowly, and your mind runs wild with visions.

“With Satoru, no, he… would never make me feel that way. Suguru, mnh… please just-”

“Why are you soaking my hand when you say his name?” He whispers those words, and you falter, as images of Satoru hit your eyes, and Suguru's fingers are getting soaked. You shake them away, but Suguru is observant. “He would only be so lucky to fuck you.”

“Do you think I’m really so pretty? When you have others that…”

“The prettiest. Prettiest tits, prettiest face, prettiest pussy.” You melt then, because no matter what fun you all have, it’s always together (exceptions would be when you all agree video is okay) and Suguru always makes you feel special. Maybe you worry too much.

“What if you find someone better?”

“Baby, what’s up with you?” He pulls back and you just sigh. “If this isn’t what you want just tell me...”

“I’m just down on myself.” You pout, and you watch Suguru's concern.

“I know, baby, I am so sorry.” He kisses you sweetly, and you melt, like you always do. “I’ll make sure he’s not a dick anymore. I swear. Trust me.”

“I don’t wanna go, though.”

“Then he wins, fuck that, go and look super hot, and ruin his little pea size brain okay?” You laugh just a bit, but things weigh on you.

Your relationship with Geto is so easy…

Aside from his dick of a friend.

Who hates you.

And who you're vividly picturing. Fuck.

Present

You keep your hands to yourself, your knees knocking together as you watch the game, the men running back and forth, dribbling the ball, throwing it, their sneakers squeaking on polished floors. Your eyes keep drifting over to him, though, and you notice Satoru’s eyes keep straying to your body, making you overheat.

The way his gaze lingers on your legs makes you squirm in your seat, and you can’t help but feel a thrill run through you, despite the tension. His icy glare is gone now, replaced with something softer, something that makes your stomach flip, his lips weren’t in a thin line, they were pouting just a bit. Suguru has a hand on your thigh, and he squeezes it, smiling.

You smile back at him. Why were you in the middle? Was this Suguru’s idea of making you all closer? But why does Satoru’s thigh brushing against yours do insane things to your psyche? Why does the scent of his cologne make you ache to snuggle him when he’s a damn asshole, when he would never want that.

You adore Suguru, when you met him at first it intimidated you, this wild lifestyle he led, but then he made you feel so good, and so included, that you ended up enjoying much of it. And several times now he’d brought up sharing you, only recently today sharing you with him . If Satoru didn’t hate you and call you unattractive, absolutely you would have.

But as it stood, you could tell he hates sitting next to you.

“I’m grabbing drinks, want one Princess?” Suguru asks, touching your hand to shake you out of your reverie. You have to strain to hear him in the loud throngs of the crowd cheering.

“I’ll go-”

“It’s fine, I got it. Satoru, you want a drink?” Satoru peers over at you, and you don’t see the usual anger, it’s a different look. You can’t put your finger on it, but it’s different for sure.

“Yeah, can you just grab me a beer?” Suguru nods, looking back at you again, and you fidget, afraid to be alone with Satoru, even in a crowd.

“Same, please and thanks.” He smiles, leaning down and kissing you then, and he walks away, leaving the two of you awkwardly alone.

The team hits a big play, and you jump up with your little pom poms, wiggling them in the air, as Satoru jumps and shouts loudly. You all bump into each other a bit, and it makes you both tense, pulling away a bit. You scooch further from him when you all sit down again, but he spreads his stupidly long legs even wider, his hand resting next to you.

“I’m sorry I came along.” You say softly, and he looks back at you, sighing a bit, and his eyes make you lose your senses for a moment.

“Don’t be. Suguru wouldn’t come without you.” He brushes that off, so casually, and though that was the truth it was a little harsh to know.

“He would have, I would have made him.”

“Yeah well. It’s not like I’m paying attention to you, I’m watching the game anyway, so it doesn't matter.”

“Yeah, true. Though I wish Suguru would sit here.”

“Don’t like to sit next to me huh?” You roll your eyes, irritated by his haughty tone, and laugh just a bit, without humor.

“As if you like this.” He just studies you, and you almost wish he’d just be mean, because that’s easier to handle than whatever this intense fucking look is.

“Have I complained?”

“Because Suguru asked you to not be so mean.”

“Yeah well.”

No apology, of course. When would someone like Satoru Gojo apologize to you, of all people? You peer over at him in that white dress shirt and those slacks that hug him like a glove, his shades shoved up on his head worth more than your life. The glinting gold watch, where his sleeves rolled up, revealing toned arms with veins wrapped around them.

You turn your attention back to the game, which was going into a bit of a break, leaving you even more awkward next to the man who hates you.

“Can I ask something?”

“Go ahead.”

“Why do you hate me so much? Like… did I offend you or something? Could you please just tell me what to do here?” You’re whispering it, since the words make you emotional, and Satoru’s lips turn down, brushing his silvery hair back with a hand, messing it up just a bit.

“You don’t need to know.” He says, and you glare then.

“I think I have a right to know. I can fix it? Maybe?”

“Can’t fix this.”

“Let me try maybe? I want to meet this amazing, funny, sweet guy Suguru swears you are, the one he loves so much.” You reach your hand out to his thigh, and he glares at it, then at you, his hand yanking yours off then, by your delicate wrist. You blink in confusion.

“You can’t fix why I hate you. Got it? And that doesn’t help. Makes it so much fucking worse.” He mumbles, not letting go of your wrist, his huge hand gripping it, taking it over.

“Sorry.”

“Why, you didn’t do anything. I hate you for nothing that you can control, does that make it better, knowing that?”

You sigh, shaking your head. “You make no sense. If you just tried to know me, you’d see I’m not the worst person ever. Regardless of how you think of my looks, you won’t even give me a chance internally.”

He lets your wrist go, sighing and looking into your eyes, but there’s not the usual anger even now. “I shouldn’t have said that yesterday.”

“Thank you for that. Even if you feel that way it’s just not nice to tell people that they’re… unattractive. Promise I say it in my own mind enough.”

“Then you’re stupid.”

“So I’m unattractive, and stupid, and you hate me.” You look down, those words wrecking you again, and you try not to show any emotion.

“You really think you’re not beautiful?” Your eyes meet, and he looks angry, again at you. You sigh, as your inner turmoil rages looking at him.

“I don’t think I’m beautiful at all. Lately I have been feeling pretty, thanks to Suguru, but that’s kind of new. It doesn’t matter anyway. If you think I’m ugly you don’t have to say it, or judge me for it. It doesn’t matter as much as who I am.”

“So you think what I said is true?”

“I’m sure you and Suguru both get much prettier girls. It’s fine. You’re both very attractive men.” Satoru stares at you more, and it makes you feel so confused, so weird, he won’t stop looking right at you. “What!?”

“You’re not unattractive. At all. I can’t believe I have to say this.”

“You don’t have to. Suguru put you up to-”

“You’re so beautiful all I can think of is how I wanna bury my cock in your pretty mouth.” His words are dangerous whispers, his hands gripping your thighs tight suddenly, and you can’t even think, your body reacting instantly, embarrassingly. “Can’t stop thinking about how badly I wanna fuck you over my desk. How I’d lick that little cunt right now with this stupid skirt driving me nuts.”

“Satoru… what…” You hate what his words do, what this asshole friend of your boyfriend says, his effect. Your nipples are taut against your bra, your tummy feeling that pressure, thighs shifting, and his gaze drops to them like a hawk.

“That’s why I hate you. Because all I think of is fucking my best friend’s girl. And yeah, he even brought it up, what you all do. Wanna know what I think?” He’s brushing your hair back behind your ear, and you’re losing all sense of self, everything fades to the background.

“What do you think?” He laughs, darkly then, his white teeth glinting from the bright fluorescents above.

“That if I had you I’d never want anyone else. That if I had to share you I’d be greedy. I’d lick you first, fuck you first, fuck you so good you can’t even think, can’t even walk. Wreck that little cunt.” His husky words shoot straight through you, the way he looks at you, this hunger in his gaze, it’s insane.

“Are you just fucking with me, Gojo? Is this a joke?” You demand through gritted teeth, and then he laughs again, but it doesn’t hit his eyes, the pupils so dilated the blue was truly hard to handle.

“I wish it was. I hate you because you’re you . You can’t fucking fix it, you can’t buy me expensive tickets, smile at me all pretty, it all makes it worse. Makes me want you more. And so I just hate you completely.”

You take a moment, struggling to process anything he was even saying, as your gaze drifts down his long, lithe body. Although you’d seen Suguru with women, and you’d been with women, you had never felt something like this, intense need clawing away at you. Even with Suguru, who you have such a good time with, you never felt whatever this is.

Was it hate?

What was it?

“I know, you’re so in love you won’t even fuck another guy when Suguru asks too. Loyal when he’s not.”

“We do everything together, or… like I know what he does. He doesn’t hide shit from me, Gojo. He treats me so good.”

“I am sure he does. He’s the best person I know. I just can’t see a world where I have you and want someone.”

His words hit too hard. It's so shocking from his usually cruel lips. “That’s crazy talk, you know, especially…”

“I didn’t mean what I said. Okay? Fucking stupid to think I did.”

“Aw you two are making up, huh?” Suguru sits next to you, handing you both a drink then, and you and Satoru tense up, as your mind whirls. “So, you all gonna fuck this frustration out or what?”

Your eyes go wide with shock, mouth dropping, and you shake your head quickly while you look at him. “Suguru, you can’t be serious about this.”

“Why not. Shoko is coming over tomorrow anyway, why don't we three party tonight.” He winks over at Satoru then.

“You’re gonna fuck Shoko, yuck.”

“Yep and you’re gonna fuck Princess here.” He pats your head, smiling, his eyes closing so adorably like he isn’t talking insane. “What, why can’t you have fun?”

“She doesn’t wanna fuck me.” Satoru says casually, and you gulp then, as he straight up says something so…

False.

“Are you sure about that?” Suguru murmurs, brushing your hair back until it is no longer on your chest, pulling your top back just a bit, and you feel yourself heating up when he’s got your hard nipples basically pressed against the top now. Satoru’s sultry blue gaze hits your breasts, lingering there. “Looks pretty excited to me.”

“Suguru!” You hiss, scowling back at his devious grin, but Satoru is licking his lower lip, making it all glossy, and one of his hands keeps clenching and unclenching into a fist.

“Nothing could make me happier than you two getting along, at least give it a chance. What if you like it, hmm?” He’s nuzzling your neck, and you shift in your seat, biting the inside of your cheek for a moment.

“So you think I’ll fuck her and stop hating her?” Satoru drawls out the words slowly, and Suguru is just rubbing up and down your waist, heightening every insane sensation.

“It’s so good I know you will.”

“Suguru… I doubt that.” You mumble, shyly fidgeting with your thumbs, rolling them around over and over.

“What if I still hate her? Do I get to keep fucking her?” Satoru’s question throws you for a loop, the intent behind his stupidly pretty gaze washing over you, and you feel Suguru’s chuckle behind you.

“No, you have to be nice to her if you want to again.” You scowl at him, then over at Gojo.

“Do I not get a say? I’m not a fuck toy.” You hiss, and Gojo actually smiles then, and it surprises you, how pretty it is. Suguru kisses your neck, laughing against it, while you nervously sip your drink.

“Being out fuck toy does sound fun.” Suguru says softly. “It would be fun for you, too, don’t you think?”

“You really want me to wreck her? She won’t even want you again.” Satoru says, grinning, and Suguru just laughs, grinning back.

“Yeah, you can try but we all know it’s not happening.”

“Have I agreed?”

“Bet she’s soaked.” Suguru is lifting your skirt, in the middle of a game, even though you all were off in a section this was insane, and Satoru’s eyes dart down between your thighs, and you can’t hold in the little whine. “Feel her and find out for me, would you?”

“She doesn’t want me to.” Satoru’s voice is husky, then you feel your thin control snap, as you say fuck it all and take his hand. You meet his shocked gaze, then you look around, and put his hand on your thigh.

“Stop acting like you know me, Gojo.” You raise your brows then, and his smirk eats at you, his thumb sliding against your soft inner thigh making goosebumps prick along your skin.

“Y’know this is the most you have gotten along.”

“Am I up to caliber, though?” You whisper those words, and Gojo’s hand slides even further up, all while his other hand brushes against your hip, nearly touching Suguru’s hand.

“We’ll have to see huh?”

“Cocky little shit.”

“Oooh, so she does have some backbone huh?” Satoru’s grinning at you, with those sharp fangs glinting, lashes lowering over his eyes. And you feel Suguru’s grip tighten on your waist.

“Fuck you, Gojo.” Suguru snorts behind you.

“Okay… sex?” You both scowl over to Suguru again.

Sex, with Satoru Gojo?

“Why don’t you just fuck him, hmm?”

“Who’s to say he hasn’t?” Satoru blows Suguru a kiss and you sigh.

“Am I really gonna do this! With Satoru Gojo?”

“You should be so lucky, damn brat-”

“Satoru….” Suguru starts again, exhaustion clear in his voice.

“Listen, I didn’t turn it down.” He slides his hand fully up, and when his thumb presses where you’re hot and sticky against your panties, his breath hitches, as does yours, both of you just stare at each other, unable to speak. For a long moment, until his thumb rubs in a gentle circle and you damn near whimper.

Fuck.

Yep you were going to do this.

***

In the car on the way home you are sitting next to Satoru and Suguru as their driver Kiyotaka takes you all back to Suguru’s place. Satoru is oddly quiet, you notice, poking around on his phone. You know he still hates you, but his hand is casually on your thigh now, rubbing in little circles, and Suguru is smiling down at you, popping little kisses on your forehead.

“You sure like her thighs for hating her so much.” Suguru murmurs lazily, and Satoru smirks, not looking up from his phone.

“I didn’t say I hate her body. Quite the opposite.” You struggle against the feelings raging inside of you. You had never done anything like this, as wild as you and Suguru were with women, it seemed so different, especially with Satoru. His hands are so big, even bigger than Suguru’s, his fingers are so long they take up most of your thigh.

“You like my legs hmm?” You say softly, and Satoru does lift his gaze from his phone, amused expression clear on his features.

“They’re really short, but they’re nice.” You laugh a bit at that, and it’s the first time you think you’ve laughed around him. His grip tightens a bit at the sound.

“Is that almost a compliment?” He shrugs a shoulder, poking back at his phone then.

“Bet they’d be nice around my face.” Your tummy clenches again at the words, at the imagery, and Suguru seems to pick up on that, his hand coming to your other thigh now, bringing your attention to him.

“You like that idea, Princess?” His voice is teasing, and you gulp, trying not to give Satoru so much satisfaction. But you just give a little nod. “Look at you two, I’m so proud right now.”

“Okay dad.” Satoru leans back some, his thighs even wider, god could he just sit normal you wonder, not pressed so against you. Suguru is the same way, and you’re pressed in the middle of the two of them, your body viscerally reacts, to the point you’re overheated.

“Wonder who you’ll call daddy?” Suguru teases you, and you flush.

“It’ll be me.” Satoru says, cocky and self assured.

“Nah, totally me.”

“Neither of you.” You say, crossing your arms, and they both look at each other, then back at you, grinning.

“You challenging us right now? That won’t end well for you.” Satoru says softly, leaning close, your breath catches with how he looks at you, so intent, his lips tempting you too closely.

Before you can speak, you’ve pulled up to Suguru’s place, and you thankfully can get out of the car, breathe air, but you now have no clue what you’re in for. The way Satoru’s hungry, lewd gaze and Suguru’s easy seductive one glaze over your body, the heat you clearly feel from both of them, the tension between the man who hates you and the man that really likes you…

What are you in for?

And in what world does it end well?”

***

Satoru’s POV

Satoru watches as Suguru leads you, hand in hand to his sleek condo, and as he looks around he wonders, where does he fuck you, where does he lick you? Where does he fuck other women with you? And why the fuck does that thought make him so angry for you. He loves Suguru, and he himself was quite open sexually, this isn’t the first time he and Suguru would share.

But he can’t even imagine having to take turns.

He wants to bring you back to his place, to fuck you senseless, make you forget anything you ever knew. He’d felt your heat, felt that sticky wetness, your soft skin… it was something that he had avoided, touching you in any way. He knew it would make everything ten times worse, and so it did.

When you turn to look up at him, with your gorgeous eyes, your lips parted just slightly, hair a little messy from the day, falling softly around your face… it takes everything in him not to throw you against a wall and fuck into you. It takes every effort not to snatch you up and literally be a horrible friend, take you away, this is what you do to him.

It’s why he hates you.

What effect did you have? And how the fuck could he take turns on you? But he can’t turn it down, no, he needs to feel you, and if this is how it happens, he’ll do it. Satoru Gojo is desperate for you, and that’s something he’s never been in his life, shit came easy for him. Why were you so difficult?

“Drinks? Let’s get drinks.” Suguru pats Satoru on the shoulder, then pats you on the ass, pressing you two together a bit. You look down shyly, long lashes casting shadows on your pretty features.

God you’re perfect, aren’t you?

“Still hate you.” Satoru mumbles, and you just look at him, brows furrowing a little bit, licking your lips and tempting him to no end. How would they feel on his cock, that little tongue sliding against his tip?

“I know you hate me. So why are you doing this?” You whisper, as you two awkwardly stand in Suguru’s living room alone, far too close. Satoru towers over you, you’re so small compared to him. He sees you’re nervous too.

“You’re stupid.” You scowl up at him, and fuck if you’re not stupidly hot when you do so. “I already told you why.”

“But it’s… not… you won’t… what if you don’t like it?” You mumble, and he watches insecurities eat you alive, how had he not noticed before? He just assumed because you’re so pretty you knew.

“What, you need practice sucking dick? Heard you like to eat pussy.” You scoff, rolling your eyes at him. “Or are you a pillow Princess?”

“I like to please.” Your eyes hit his body then, desire reflected in them, and he itches to touch you, he itches to be sweet to you, but he can’t. Nope.

“We’ll see if it’s passable. If not, I'll give some tips.” You laugh, a little bark of laughter, shaking your head.

“Suguru likes it just fine.”

“I sure do. She’s great at blow jobs.” Suguru hands you both a drink, and Satoru can’t stop his gaze locked on those supple, full lips of yours. “Guess what, believe it or not Satoru’s good at eating pussy. From what I’ve seen. But, I’m better.”

“No way, you know I’d win.” Suguru looks at you, and you’re all flushed in the cheeks as you delicately sip your drink. Why is every movement you make just torturing him?

“He’s really, really good though. Licked an accidental I love you out of me.” You tease, and Suguru laughs at that, but you look a little sad he notices.

“Ya didn’t say it back, Sugu?” Suguru grows serious for a moment at Satoru’s obvious question.

“It’s just still early, and she kind of… took it back.”

“I was embarrassed for sure.”

Imagine those words from your lips. Satoru’s grip is so tight on the glass he feels it will just break, shutting his eyes for a moment and sucking in a breath. Was he really going down this path, knowing what would happen when you would touch him, when he would taste you? Knowing he’d get more obsessed, fuck it was just so much easier to hate you.

But how could he turn it down?

It would be such a shitshow but so worth it.

“We’ll have to see who’s better, huh?” Suguru teases, smirking over at Satoru, and he just eyes your perfect little form slowly, humming to himself.

“First, less clothes.” Satoru says softly, and watches your nervous habits, how you bite your lower lip so hard you leave teeth marks, how your hands tremble as you set your drink down. “You're scared, huh?”

“Nope. Sure not.” He smirks at you, but that freezes when you slip your shaky little fingers to your top, popping open one button, then the other, and he has to grip the fuck out of the counter next to him. Your soft, supple skin is revealed with each one, until your breasts spill out, just left in a lacy blue bra.

Fuck he could cum just seeing you.

“Not bad.” He is so full of shit, and Suguru is rolling his eyes, you blink a little, looking down. Fuck he hates himself. But if he’s sweet to you… “Let’s see the rest then I’ll judge.”

“She’s beautiful.” Suguru comes and you lift your long hair out of the way, and he easily unsnaps your bra, then slides it down your shoulders, kissing them, the way Satoru wants to, but he wouldn’t be gentle like Suguru, not if you were his. He would suck and bite every inch of your skin. “There we go, Princess.”

He lets your bra fall to the floor, and you’re bare from the waist up, and he sees them then, your lush breasts, perfect and pretty. Your little nipples are puffy and pronounced, begging for his mouth on them, for his fingers to pinch them. And you just stand there, your shoulders set high, as Satoru eats you up, and fuck if you’re not the most perfect thing he’s seen.

Suguru looks at Satoru, his dark eyes seductive in their glint, as if he could tell how badly Satoru wants you. Your perfect breasts are heaving with your panting little breaths, while Suguru is running his hands down your slender little arms. You look at Satoru, then Suguru, then down, as if you’re a little shy finally.

“Um… up to caliber?” You ask, and he hears it, the bitterness in your sultry little voice. And you should be bitter, mad, fuck you shouldn’t let him see this, should you? But here you are, and you look so fucking gorgeous he can’t take it.

He steps up to you then, taking two fingers and tilting your chin up, looking into those eyes he’d made cry yesterday. “Gorgeous.”

You gasp, and Suguru grins then, pecking a little kiss on your neck, as Satoru’s hands trail down your face, your throat, that delicate collarbone, and he watches your breaths increase. He can hear that little whine you try to hide from the back of your throat, he can feel your energy, your heat near him.

“Told you, baby. You’re beautiful.” Suguru is right, of course he is, and Satoru is damn near speechless at a pair of tits, it’s pathetic. You make him pathetic, don’t you, it’s why…

He should hate you.

No he does hate you.

But…

“Thank you… both.” You whisper, and Satoru doesn’t deserve your thanks, for one stupid word, when you were so much more.

You should hate him.

Why don’t you?

“Why don’t you feel them, Satoru? How nice they are.” Suguru is running his hand around your waist, pressing your breasts up then, and you’re crying out softly, that pleasure on your face making you so sexy. Satoru’s hands slide down, and he feels them, the weight in his hands, and he can’t hold back his own moan then.

Your eyes fly to his, as he cups your breasts in his big hands, and he sees it then, clear as fucking day. You want him. As his thumbs brush your nipples, and your head leans back, for Suguru’s mouth to kiss up the side of it, one of your little hands clutch his shirt, pulling him closer, the other, on one of Suguru’s arms.

“Perfect.” Satoru says softly, and you gasp, but then Satoru leans so close to your lips, you start to shake in Suguru’s hold.

“Perfect.” Suguru agrees, and Satoru watches you melt then, as his lips descend, and he can taste your sweet breath on his lips, it intoxicates him to no end. “You gonna kiss him, Princess?”

You lean up, as he leans down, and your hand slides up to Satoru’s face then, so tiny, a thumb swiping over his lower lip, and then Satoru’s eyelids are low over his eyes, as he presses his lips to yours. You moan at it, so quiet he almost couldn’t hear, vibrating his lips, and then Satoru knows it, knows it when he melts into your kiss, knows it when his tongue swipes into your hot mouth.

It’s all over for him.

And he hates you for it.

***

Your POV

Satoru’s lips send electrical sparks through yours, it’s absolutely insane, as his big hands knead your breasts, and Suguru is hard against your lower back, his big hands on your hips, pressing. But when Satoru’s tongue slides in your mouth, and you drink in his moans? When you taste his breath, when you feel that slick start to dribble from your little cunt?

Fuck. This is bad, it’s bad. It’s bad.

“Hate you.” He whispers then, right on your lips, right when his eyes drink you in lazily, when he squishes your breasts in his hands. It was so quiet you don’t even think he spoke, more moved his lips and you understood.

Satoru Gojo hates you.

Right?

Chapter 2

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58179796/chapters/148138651

[a-leg-without-fear]

Sweet

sin sin sin sIN SIN THIS IS SIN. please enjoy pleasuring our dear college!matt

Ship: Matt Murdock x Female!Reader

Rating: 18+ (pure filth, truly)

Wordcount: 2.7k

Warnings: smut, sexual situations, foreplay, some depressive thoughts (because i apparently can't write anything without them)

Warm.

Soft, warm, gentle, sweet. Sweeter than anything he’d tasted. Like dew that’s been licked off a cold strawberry, or the fragrant scent that wafts through the air outside of flower shops. A delicate and tender sweetness. Subtle, comforting, like the smell of home after being away for years. Such sweetness could make Matt lose himself, letting himself drift away on a current of fond smiles and warm embraces. He would allow himself to drown in the sweet taste, even if it was the last drop to pass his lips before he drifted to the ocean floor.

At the sudden loss of the warmth, the tenderness, the sweetness, Matt’s throat let out a whine of annoyance. His body moved of its own accord as he scrambled to reconnect himself to the source. Fingers tangling in silken hair. Hand bunching in a tank top. Teeth nipping at a plump, pink lower lip.

“Matt,” you sighed. The words cascaded past Matt’s tongue and down his throat, carrying a breeze filled with cherry blossoms in their wake. He could distantly feel delicate fingertips brush at his jaw. A tingling warmth trailed behind the gentle touch, only fueling his need to swallow as much sweetness as he could.

“Matt, honey. Breathe.”

Matt’s eyes fell open as he pulled away from his brief reprieve. His senses came crashing down like a cave in. All he could see was a haze of swirling oranges and reds that filled every inch in sight. Streaks of flame and blood painting the college dorm room like a canvas on fire. His cotton shirt was too tight, too scratchy. The humid air settled in his pores like an unwelcome visitor. A sudden cacophony of noise spilled into his ears through the crack under the door and the thin material of the walls. He blinked a few times to reorient. 

The first inhale he allowed himself felt like a punch in the lungs. Gone was the taste of strawberries or cherry blossoms, the feeling of warmth and comfort. A sharp tang of stale alcohol plunged its way into his sinuses and left him reeling. Notes of old, worn carpet and water-damaged ceilings shoved their way through to stand side by side to overwhelm thought and feeling. Matt screwed his eyes shut, trying to recall the smell of flowers that flowed like water down his throat.

“Hey, I’m right here,” you whispered, your melodic voice brushing aside the sounds assaulting Matt’s senses. Your soft hand rested along his jaw and brought his forehead to yours. Matt could feel your breath fan across his face. Warm and gentle and sweet.

“I… I’m sorry,” Matt said. He felt naïve. The world was harsh and cold and unforgiving. He shouldn’t have let himself get carried away by the allure you unintentionally provided. The sweet ambrosia that flowed from your lips could never compete with the torrential downpour of too much all around him.

“Sorry for what?” you asked. Your fingers brushed strands of Matt’s dark hair away from his face, then trailed their way down his cheek to rest on his collarbone. 

Matt opened his eyes again in a desperate attempt to see you. See anything. But all he was met with was the clouded reds and oranges that submerged the world beneath a pool of blood. 

He tried to focus on where your face would be, using the brush of air currents along your seated body to understand where you were on the bed. Your head was cocked, hair falling in front of your kind eyes. Matt could tell you were looking at him. From the way your heart calmly beat behind your ribs and the pheromones that surrounded you like an aura, Matt assumed you were happy. Content.

“I got caught up in the moment,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. You chuckled at his bashfulness, the sound ringing like a small bell around Matt’s head. Hopefully he could deflect from his lapse in awareness. Of course he had to be blind and easily distracted.

“That’s not a bad thing, you know. Just gotta remember to breathe,” you said. Matt scoffed playfully at the jab. He let his hands drift down to your waist, tucking his fingers beneath the bunched-up hem of your shirt.

“I don’t know, you seem to like it when I prevent you from breathing.”

Your breath caught in your throat as your heart leapt and your face heated. A flash of the intoxicating scent that was distinctly you floated from between your legs. Matt could feel his own arousal swirling like a whirlpool in his stomach. An uncontrollable tempest begging to be released over calm waters. Despite how desperately he wanted your clothes off and you beneath him, he pulled his mouth into a cocky grin while his fingers worked their way up to your bra.

“What’s wrong? Feeling embarrassed? Or are you just remembering how good it felt when I choked you?” he purred.

That got you riled up. Your chest started heaving as your skin grew hot and clammy over your entire body. A fresh wave of wetness and delicious scent warmed the inside of your thighs. You swallowed heavily and Matt could practically feel the way the muscles in your throat moved.

But you hesitated. Your fingers stopped their soft stroking along his sensitive skin. Your breath halted just behind your soft lips. Matt’s brow furrowed as a frown tugged at the edges of his lips.

“You okay?” he asked warily. Matt forced his hands to cease in their uphill climb and placed them on your hips. Anxiety gripped at his chest. Did he misread the situation? Misread you? Did he make you uncomfortable? God, what if you finally realized you’d made a mistake in dating him? It was bound to happen, sooner or later.

“Can I be on top tonight?” you asked, as though that sentence didn’t hit him like a ton of bricks to the stomach.

“W-What?” Matt spluttered.

“These past few times you’ve been making me feel good. Really good. I want to try to return the favor,” you explained. Your nails began to pick at a stray thread on Matt’s shirt collar. Matt’s ears picked up on the uptick in your pulse. Were you… nervous?

“If you don’t want to, that's fine, you can be on top. We can also just kiss if that’s more what you’re feeling today. I don’t want to make you feel weird and-”

“Sweetheart, slow down,” Matt said, interrupting your fast-paced tangent. Your mouth clamped shut as a deep breath filled your lungs. Matt grabbed loosely at your shoulders, thumbs rubbing back and forth on your bare skin, as an easy smile fell over his face.

He gave you a few seconds to catch your breath then said, “You can be on top. I just wasn’t expecting you to ask.”

In all honesty, he wasn’t expecting you to ask. Matt’s life was a never ending learning curve of discovering that love was not guaranteed. His mother left before he was a year old, his father died when he was nine, his mentor, Stick, abandoned him at the first sign of affection. He learned long ago to not expect anything from anyone. That was the first lesson Stick had taught him. 

And yet, against all odds, here you sat. An enigma if ever there was one. Offering your affection on a silver platter at Matt’s feet. A clear sign of trust, of devotion, of love.

“Okay,” you said. A relieved smile broke out across your face. You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear as you cleared your throat. Matt’s heart raced in time with yours. His fingers began kneading in the soft flesh at your hips.

“Lie down for me,” you said. Four words, spoken softly with the gentleness of a feather, yet they struck Matt in the chest like a wide haymaker. A sentence that carried the weight of authority and a gentle caress all in one. Suddenly all he wanted to do was follow instructions.

In a flash he had his head on the pillow, arms at his sides, breathing at an alarmingly fast rate. Anticipation burned its way through his veins and clouded his senses. The world outside the dorm room faded away. Like a memory retreating into a dense fog. Loud voices down the hall quieted into nothing, the humidity in the air evaporated, his shirt felt like the softest silk, and the scent around him. God, all he could smell was you. Your breath was like the first day of spring, your skin like rolling hills of green grass, your hair like soft strands of pure sunlight. Matt’s world was, yet again, sweet.

“Let me know if I’m making you uncomfortable,” you breathed, your lips suddenly brushing against his earlobe. Matt would have jumped had he not been so relaxed beneath your comforting presence. Your sense of calm had washed over him like a warm wave at low tide. 

“I will,” Matt replied, having to use what remained of his mind to form two coherent words. A soft hum of acknowledgement rustled the baby hairs by his ear. He had just enough awareness to track you as you pressed a soft kiss under his jaw. 

A sigh escaped his lips as he tilted his head back against the pillow. You smiled against his skin, rewarding the accommodation by pressing a firmer kiss into the soft skin beneath his ear. Tendrils of goodgoodgood shocked their way through his veins from where your lips connected to the sensitive skin. His breath hitched as he let his eyes fall closed.

“Good spot, I take it,” you said through a smile Matt could hear. Matt barely got out the word “yes” before you licked a broad swipe up his neck and ended at that sensitive spot. Matt’s back arched as a groan kicked its way out of his throat. His hands fisted into your tank top out of pure instinct, practically begging the source of his pleasure to stay put. Another pass of your tongue stoked the embers in his abdomen into a bonfire, flames licking their way over his damp skin.

“Sweetheart, please,” Matt begged, the words a whisper on his parted lips. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was begging for. All he knew was he never wanted you to stop. 

Blunt fingernails traced the exposed skin beneath his shirt. Matt’s hips bucked up, chasing the light touch. The muscles beneath his skin jumped as you slowly, so slowly, started pushing his shirt up. It was agonizing, the feeling of your nails lightly scraping along his stomach. Each finger lit up thousands of nerve endings, each nerve ending pushing him further and further toward the edge of a steep cliff.

You pressed a soft kiss to the shell of Matt’s ear as you whispered, “Arms up, Matt.”

You could tell him to kneel at your feet for the rest of his life and he would.

Matt did the best his melted body could to help you take his shirt off. The two of you were a mess of limbs and cotton for a moment before you were able to pull the infernal garment away. Matt’s arms fell beside him like two sacks of grain. Palms as soft as calfskin ever so gently glided down his bare chest. You made sure every divot and round muscle got the attention it deserved, caressing Matt like he was the finest lace. When your pinky brushed against his nipple, a sharp hiss escaped through his teeth.

You hummed, hands retreating in their path, fingers dancing along the edges of Matt’s nipples. Matt choked out a moan, baring his neck as his back arched into your touch. Your tongue made another pass of his throat as feather-light glances of your fingers across both of his nipples chased the last coherent thoughts from Matt’s mind.

“Fuck,” Matt groaned. Every millimeter of his skin felt like it was aflame. Fire left in the wake of your gentle touch. Burning away all sense and reason until all that was left was Matt’s writhing body.

He was close. Embarrassingly so. Matt clung to the cliff’s edge by his fingertips, each kiss and caress prying his fingers off one by one. His hips moved of their own volition. He was bucking into your thigh like a dog in heat. Whines and moans flew from his glistening lips while his hands scrabbled against the sheets.

With your hands still toying at Matt’s chest, you shifted in his lap until the warm heat between your thighs settled over where his shorts had tented. A slurred string of curses and your name spilled from between his teeth. His wild grinding now dispersed your scent in the air around him. And God, there was so much. It settled into every inch of Matt’s skin until he could taste it on his tongue, feel it coat his lungs as he breathed it in.

“Sw-eetheart,” Matt choked out. He could feel his fingers falling away from the cliff in rapid succession. The precipice below him seemed to climb up the cliffside until it was just beneath his feet, tempting him to let go and plunge into its depths.

The final nail in his coffin was when you nipped at his neck, teeth closing around where his pulse flowed strongest. The air in his lungs leapt through his throat in one big gust. His unseeing eyes rolled back in his head, hands grabbing at anything in their vicinity. 

Matt’s final grip on the cliff fell away, plunging him into warmth and gentleness and sweetness that surrounded him like a strong embrace. Held him tight and wove its way through every muscle in his body. A shock of white hot pleasure rolled through him like a steam train. Starting in his groin and washing over him in wave after wave of fuckyesgoodfuckkeepgoingdon’tstop. He could barely register how loud he was over the roaring in his ears. His heart pounded against his chest like an animal behind bars.

Your lips found his again and everything clicked into place. Matt lapped at your mouth like he was drinking his first glass after a month in the desert. The sweet nectar that you produced flowed down his throat and prolonged his orgasm. His hips rocked up into yours, chasing a heat that he could feel in his bones. Hands, trembling, bunched themselves in your shirt and pulled your chest flush to his.

It took several minutes for the aftershocks to calm down. Every breath, every twitching muscle made his overwhelmed senses go haywire. In his mind, the world around him was a swirling cloud of bliss. All he could hear was your breathing, all he could feel was your heartbeat against his chest, all he could taste was strawberries and cherry blossoms. He let his fingertips trail along your exposed shoulders, zeroing in on the feeling, bringing himself back to reality.

When you felt the movement, you lifted your head to look at him, “Back with us?”

A tired smile spread itself over his lips. Matt opened his eyes, the effort to lift his eyelids like lifting a dumbbell, and let his empty gaze land somewhere on your face.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he sighed. You responded by giving him a quick peck on the lips. Matt grumbled, brow furrowing, then guided your chin back up to kiss him again. You chuckled against his lips, a whisper of “ridiculous man” absorbed between your mouths. Matt relished in the familiar sweetness before letting you pull away.

“I take it you enjoyed that?” you asked. Matt gave you a solemn nod, at which you laughed. He shifted beneath you so he could attempt to meet your eyes.

“Did you like it?” he asked tentatively. He fiddled with the hem of your shirt as he waited for your answer. He hadn’t done anything for you, he just laid there and made you do all the work. What kind of boyfriend was he? Not to mention you didn’t even touch him. A few grazes of your fingers over his chest and he was done for.

“I loved it. It was fun to figure out what buttons to push,” you laughed. The tinkling tune of your laugh erased any negative thoughts Matt retained about the experience. He let his smile return, holding you tighter to his chest.

“Give me a few minutes and I’ll return the favor,” Matt said, letting that seductive edge find its way back into his voice. You shuddered on top of him. Your thighs clenched instinctively around his. You blew a stray strand of hair out of your face, attempting to mask the want clearly written on your skin.

“3 minutes, then we’re back in business.”

“Deal.”

HUGE thanks to the Murdock Tuna Team for being the inspiration for this fic. i have them to blame for the filth that fills my head on an hourly basis.

Murdock Tuna Team 🐟: @vigilxnte-shit @pastafossa @yarrystyleeza @ecxlipse @sunflowersandsapphires @amphitrite-5 @fuckyeahpommelstrike @mar-thewriter @zomtart @what-i-call-men

[thejujvtsupost]

The Red Queen

So this isn’t entirely smut but it’s definitely suggestive so I’ll still say it’s 18+? Anyway, I love this trope of sweet husband! Sukuna so much. I picture this set in a somewhat modern time where he lives in a large castle/estate and rules over land; but it can definitely be read like it’s the Heian era. It’s also my first Sukuna work!

Notes: F!reader, lovesick sweet husband sukuna, period and blood mention, suggestive/light smut throughout, almost oral sex (f receiving), reader is victim to the ridiculous stigma surrounding periods.

Sukuna is familiar with menstrual cycles, it’s one of the reasons he had more than one concubine until now- when he only had you. His queen.

He didn’t mind blood, but there was too much complaining mess and disinterest. He wasn’t going to fuck someone that wouldn’t worship him.

And you were one of them, at least at first. Starting out as a concubine and carrying out some maid duties as well until you quickly became the master’s favorite.

He tried to rationalize his feelings at the time. Maybe it was the way you squeaked when he was inside you for the first time, or the way you rode him… perhaps, and the more likely reason, was how you treated him. You were worthy of being his queen, and dare he say, he experienced love for the first time.

You didn’t look away like the others when you witnessed him covered in blood (even though blood made you squeamish), instead you ran to him to see if he was alright.

“Master Sukuna! Are you alright, did someone attack you- woah!” Your voice wavered when you tripped on your own kimono. Sukuna caught you easily, though one hand facepalmed at your clumsy display when he did.

Okay, maybe you were a bit oblivious. And clumsy. And hopelessly charming. “I am fine. I intend to bathe shortly.”

“I’ll start the water then- oh, or would you like me to find Uraume?” The pout you sported amused him enough to humor you. His other concubines hadn’t been this concerned about him before. You were strange, but not bad…

You also sympathized with him while he took out his stress on your smaller body.

“I should kill him for his insolence!” Was expressed between sharp thrusts, yet you were too overwhelmed to do more than moan and cum. By then you were the only concubine being called for quite some time, you took the brunt of his anger by yourself, happily. The other concubines were nowhere to be found but you didn’t miss their poor attitudes towards your favoritism.

As you were collecting your clothing afterwards, you went out on a limb that you know could have gotten you killed, but he deserved to be validated: “I’m sorry you had to deal with that, my king. Please tell me if there’s anything I can do to make it easier for you. Good night.”

You were mid bow when he barked out “stay”, is your assumption that he wanted your body again was incorrect. It was the first night you slept in his chambers and you’ve slept beside him ever since. You didn’t question him, you weren’t afraid.

You were happy to stay.

It wasn’t long after that night when he decided you would be his queen.

You were married under cherry blossom trees in the spring.

The plush bed did little to help your suffering. The aching of your womb didn’t stop, and after a particularly painful cramp, the tears were coming.

The arrival to your shared chambers had him concerned, he hadn’t sensed you elsewhere and your energy was drained- yet you weren’t asleep.

(And you didn’t greet him cutely, which he totally wasn’t looking forward to after being away for a week.)

“My love?”

Your pained grumble led him towards you, and as he grew closer he smelled the blood. “Where are you injured? Why isn’t anyone tending to you?” He knelt down to be level with you and brushed the hair from your eyes.

“‘m’not injured, it’s… it’s a girl thing. It’s just really bad this time around.”

“Ah, your menstrual cycle.”

“Sukuna! Don’t just say it out loud! It’s so embarrassing, I bled on the sheets too and Uraume is washing them alone so I don’t crawl into a hole and die. I don’t want anyone to know.”

“Or what? I’ll be smited? It’s just a sign of fertility, that you can carry my heir. Don’t hide, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You’re always so secretive about it but I know anyway, it’s not a big deal.” He tried to placate you but you burrowed into the blankets further.

“I just feel gross like this, like I’m an ugly mess and it’s so bad this time. I can’t even move without it hurting and I’m frustrated! This is hardly fair.” You winced at another cramp and he tutted at you.

“You tried heat and the usual stuff I’m assuming?” Your pathetic nod was his only response. “Alright lie on your back, I’ll get rid of the cramps.”

His robes were dropped off the edge of the bed and he tossed the blankets back to get to you. “Wait I don’t think I can handle sex right now-”

“Who said anything about fucking you? I’m going to eat you out until you can’t feel anything except my tongue on your cunt. Release soothes cramps.”

“Oh my god, you can’t there’s so much blood! That’s gross-”

A large hand took hold of your face to meet your eyes, “no part of you is gross or ugly or whatever nonsense is in your head. Do not speak of my queen that way, my love. I’ve killed for less and I have no problem spanking your ass raw when you’re no longer menstruating. Understand?”

“Yeth s’kuna” your cheeks were smushed in his firm albeit gentle grip, causing your words to slur. He released you and kissed each cheek, then your lips, lovingly.

“Now, may I continue on? You are free to decline but don’t let nonsense cloud your answer.”

You contemplated, if it would relieve your cramps then… “You can continue, it really hurts though so be gentle.”

Sukuna peeled your clothes from your body and grew level with your hips “As if I’d be anything else, woman.”

Let me know if you guys want more sweet husband!Sukuna, I kinda really like this flavor of him.

Divider credit to @saradika-graphics and @thecutestgrotto

Thinking about making a request? Check my bio to see if they’re open! 💗

[icarusredwings]

What things smell like according to Logan Howlett/ The Wolverine. A series of smell based headcanons. Do with these whatever you want :)

People:

Ororo: burnt marshmellows, rain, chunky chocolate chip cookies, protien shakes, spansih rice, chillies, and cocoa butter. She always smells great.

Scott: cucumber shampoo, the remaints of a bonfire the next day, fresh dry cleaning, axe shower gel, lavender sheets

Jean: caramel latte, lavender sheets, vanilla spiced chai, books, mint ice cream, fruit smoothies, stinky hair product, lemon poppy seed muffins, sassafras

Hank: Books, sanatizer, various chemicals, a very specifc fur dander, kinda musky but in a 'im covered in fur and sweaty' kind of way.

Rouge: "Dolly Parton", brick and concrete dust, cherry blossoms body spray, freshly engraved wood, strawberries and milk conditioner, spicy gaucamole and freshly sizzled sausages.

Gambit: tv static, a fresh deck of cards at the casino, spicy jumbo, gin, lime jello, hair gel, "suprisingly good actually"

Kurt: brimstone, smoke from franckinsense, myrrh, a less smelling dander then hank, Holy chrism oil (olive oil and Balsam made by catholic priests), metal, and blue raspberry. Fur/ beard pomade sometimes for special ocassions.

Morph: even when changed he can smell is sandlewood shampoo, he smells like how "Jack Outta smell", latex, pine and cedar, clear nail polish, "that ugly quilt that your grandma kept on the back of her couch that was the warmest, softest thing you've ever slept with."

Charles: Old man fart, metal, chalk, shoe polish, nutmeg, wool, "a trusting hug", books, mahogany, expensive champagne.

Laura: "teen spirit", a shitty cheap "girl power" deodorant that doesn't do well hiding the sweat, apples and peaches, kinda woodsy.

Wade: Cancer, gun smoke, citrus dish soap, blood, oranges, taco sauce, infected skin once in awhile, red dye 40, slight over cooked and crispy apple pie, sugary cereal

Puppins: wet dog, dog dander, oatmeal senstive skin puppy shampoo, chicken, "the dirtest trash she can find to roll in on her walk"

Althea: Old lady, way too strong perfumes, butter biscuits, tea, peppermint candies, more cocaine, "baby powder", lanvender linens, cotton and daisy's Landry detergent.

Feelings/emotions:

Big/serious lies: smell like Gasoline and salty sand near the sea.

Small fibs/playful/ teasing lies: smell like Anise

Lies with decent intentions/are bent truths: smell like honey

Those two are easily mixed up.

Innocent (the person truly believes it. Ex. A child saying dinos are real) truth: smells like thick vanilla creamer.

Filling, whole truths (the person knows for a fact its a truth) smells: like fresh baked rolls/buns

Cancer smells vary like: urine, nail polish remover, some people have a pungent semi sweet smell like rotting fruit, and tar is another smell, depending on which part of the body. If already in late stages, one can smell like cadavers. Even spicy almost.

Pregnant people vary in scent but he can smell the rise of different hormones: Some hormones sweeter then other. If you asked him he would say cinnamon or dying roses. If you're later in your term the scents are more soft like lotion or custard. Lemon ussually.

Serotonin; cheese, lemon cakes, fruity, a bit light, and flakey like a pastry. Marshmellow fluff.

Dopamine; sweet fresh coffee, doritos(?), cocaine. Don't ask why he knows what cocaine smells like. He was alive during coke cocaine.

Endorphins; Sweaty Sex, mint, dark chocolate, violets, chemicals, varies by persons pheromones

Oxytocin; "playful cherries", freshly washed cotton pillows, the warmth of a bath, skin on skin hugs, strawberries

Joy/relaxation/relief: Jasmine, vanilla sugar cookies, fresh soup.

Anger/disapproval/hurt: smoke, the back end of a cigarette, spicy curry, iron, blood, "spoiled raw chicken left out too long"

Fear/excitment/anxiousness: Adrenaline smells like oil, paint, salty pretzels almost.

Tears: Oceans, lillies, fresh water lakes

[jenosjarofjam]

Now, you're stuck with me forever

Alpha jeno x Omega fem!reader

-Rivals/enemies to lovers

Requested ✔️ @no-romance-for-me-please

Word count: 2k+word.

Warning: smut,abo stuff, a lot I mean a lot of slick, squirting, knotting, cussing, biting/marking, mention of scent, nicknames(princess, good girl, etc...)

An note! This is like my first one shot and abo so hopefully this is not too bad🤞.(I took some prompts idea from Tumblr.)I didn't really dive deep into the rival/enemies part.

Playlist: collide-Justine Skye, Best lover-BiBi

You took the same class with Jeno, both of you were the top 10 students in the whole uni. You vividly remember the first year you met Jeno, Jeno always sat next to you, taunting you when he got higher grades. On the other hand, you studied extra hard because of it, surprisingly Jeno still got a higher grade than you. This went on for months, until the professor decided to pair both of you up for a huge project, now you have no choice but work with him. You guys started texting each other, deadline of the project was approaching, you agreed on letting Jeno into your place to help on the project, another led to another, now he crashes into your place whenever he wants

9:34 a.m

Jeno: Can I come over I’m bored……

Y/n : Since when did you started asking?

Jeno:I’m just trying to be nice rn, I’ll bring you food.

Y/n:awwwwwwwwww are you showing affection to me rn?

Jeno: I want to wrap my hands around your throat, and choke you until the life in your eyes die down.

Y/n: kinky ;)

Jeno: stfu, u freak

Jeno was sitting on the couch, finalising the project while you ate your food. The presence of him was distracting you , you seem to be confused about the reason… but hey no one’s complaining when there’s free food.

You noticed the sun peeking through the curtains, sun ray hitting Jeno’s face, highlighting his features. He’s skin glowed under the sun, his eyes shimmered hazel, his nose- “Hey! Are you even listening to me?Hello? Earth to Y/n?” A voice abrupted your thoughts, you realised you have been unconsciously starring at him, your face blushed in embarrassment about being caught. “Were you starring at me?” He cocked his eyebrow in disbelief, “no- no way why would I be starring at you! You’re.. ugly.” Well that was a lie….. “You’re avoiding eye contac with me? Why’s that?” He grins in enjoyment watching you suffer. “No. NO why would I do that.” “Maybe because you’re into me?” He said poking fun at you. “ wha-what no no no…” “well, you’re looking at me like you want to murder me but also like…you want me.” He smirked, seeing your widened eyes. "*cough* umm I'm gonna go uhh get some water." You said, as you quickly walked to the kitchen. You let out a sigh, feeling like you lost your breathe just the moment before. You felt... feverish, oddly... horny.

You went back talking with Jeno, it still doesn't help the fact that you're thinking about getting pounded by a particular person. The uncomfortable stickiness between your thighs was borderline painful, you tried to ease the pain by crossing your legs...it didn't work. You spaced out looking into Jeno's eyes. "Hey... You should take a rest, you seem tired today," "Yeah..um yeah sorry I'll uh go to my room and get some rest, call me when you need anything." You responded, feeling the awkward tension in the room rise up. Little did you know, your scent was flaring up like crazy, the mix of raspberry jam and cherry blossom was putting off Jeno, the sweet smell of slick was oozing out of your panties, making it awfully hard for Jeno to keep his instincts and not to fuck you senselessly. You scurried off to your room, feeling overwhelmed to the brim. You started researching about random heats, trying to find the reason the sudden neediness. You came across an article about spontaneous heats.

Spontaneous heats-Though rare, there is a phenomenon called Spontaneous Heat, which is when an Omega goes into heat outside of their cycle. The rare cases where it happens include meeting one's perfect match (at which point both heat and rut begin almost immediately)

No way Lee Jeno was destined to be your mate, but you can’t deny he is dreadfully hot, but you definitely didn’t stand a chance to be with him.

All these mix signals are just throwing you over the edge.In spite of that, all you should be worrying right now is about the fact that you’re craving the feeling of Jeno’s dick sliding in and out of you.

You had to find a way to relief the pain, ignoring the fact Jeno is probably outside your room playing video games, you slipped your hand under your panties, stimulating your clit. You bite down on your pillow, trying to muffle your moans.

Jeno was standing outside your room, the scent of a sweet aroma slipping through the door crack is driving him insane. The sound of muffled moans , made it obvious you were touching yourself. The thought of marking you, letting everyone know you’re his. The desire to breed you, filling up your pussy with his cum. How pretty you’ll look when he fucks you until you’re senseless . He feels his body burning, blood rushing to his cock, he couldn’t get you off his mind the entire day, he was just craving to fuck you all day long . Jeno couldn’t hold it anymore, he knew damn way he wanted you, all the pretending was driving him mad.

As you were approaching your high, you closed your eyes and focused on the climax. Yougot so lost in the pleasure, you didn’t even notice that someone was standing in front of your doorway.

"Always so needy for me, having fun without me huh?" You quickly cover yourself, your face burned up in embarrassment, you stared at Jeno and his very prominent erection, the size of his bulge was huge , the sheer thought of it already makes you mouth water, you wondered how it’ll feel in your hand,or even in your tight pussy. “What you looking at?” Jeno interrupts your line of thoughts, but it doesn’t make it better. He's low raspy voice sends chills down your spine. He slowly walks to your bed, kneeling down and staring into your doe-eyes, you quickly turned your head away from his stare, he quickly leans closer, closer to the point you feel his breathe against yours " I asked you y/n, what are you looking at?”. Jeno realises how stupid this is, and pulls away, before you pull him by the collar, his lips crashes into yours, the hunger you both crave for each other is finally getting satisfied, his hands naturally went around your waist as he pulls you closer, goosebumps swarming every part of your body. He pulls away "do you want me to stop?” he asked, trying to reassure you wanted this. You hurriedly answered, longing for more “just the opposite, please” He pushes you on to the bed, now you’re under him.

“Submit yourself,” he demanded, “jeno-” “What did you call me?” he abruptly shouted, making you jolt from the unexpected behaviour. “I’m sorry, al-alpha.” he slowly pulled down your flimsy shorts along with your pink panties, the cold hands made you squirm away from his touch. He quickly put his hands on your hips and pull you in, “Let me take care of you, let me make you feel good, let me make you mine,” he whispers into your ears before he forcefully lifts your head up, now you’re staring at him. He’s eyes filled with lust, the dark orbs felt like they were burning holes in yours. He takes off his shirt, his toned abs, arms bulging with veins, looks just like a wet dream in sight. He spreads your legs further apart, slotting his head between your legs. He started licking your hole, not letting a single drop of slick going to waste, before adding two fingers into your leaking hole, slick dripping to his chin, his nose bumping onto your clit adding the extra sensation, making you moan like crazy. “Fuck, you taste so sweet, taste like mine,”he mumbled, the sound of slurping echoes in your ear, your hand naturally find its way down to his head, you grip firmly on his hair, tugging it slightly letting him know your getting close to your climax. The high he brought you was like shockswaves crashing into you, you arch your back gripping harder onto his hair, you let a breathy gasp as you came all over his face.

“I’m not done with you, yet." His eyes darkened as you reached your hands towards him, freeing his cock out of his confinement, it spring out hitting his abdomen. It was huge, far from the ones you've taken before. He slowly lift your legs up, pushing the tip in you, the stretch was painfully good, you unconsciously clenched around him making him groan, your slick coating his dick making it easier for him to fit. He gave you time to adjust to his length then he slowly thrusted into you. “Fuck- take it like a good omega that you are.” The new feeling of adrenaline came rushing in, your eyes rolled back when he hit the spot that made you see stars. He lets out a low breathy grunt , your creamy velvety walls sucking him in deeper, the tight fit making you feel every inch of him, every single veins dragging in and out of your pussy. He started thrusting in a merciless rhythm, he grabbed your jaw and kissed you roughly, his tongue swirled against yours, the passionate kiss turned into a messy make-out session. His warm lips taking over you, pussy gushing over his dick. "Alpha, I'm close-" you choked out "please, fill me up please.", you feel like time slowed, each thrust felt so sensitive, so good, you feel your vision blurring, the knot in your stomach snapped, you let a long lewd moan as you cum on Jeno's dick. Jeno kept thrusting, ignoring your whines. "Hmm, too much?? Too much for my omega? You were begging for it, you were begging me to fill you up right?? Good girl's keep their promises baby." The sensitivity was too much, you feel your eyes tearing up, you kept clenching on his girth, forming a creamy white ring around the base of his cock.

Jeno used his strength and flip you around, his big hands holding onto your hips, “ass up princess.” You obeyed, feeling a sharp slap on your butt, he swify pushes back in with a one quick thrust. "Plea-se knot- in me al-pha, please, wanna be full of your pups." You pleaded, the thought of being by each other's side everyday, carrying his child, was the best fucking dream ever. "Fuck- You want me to knock you up- huh? Such a slut, such a slut for me. Fuck I'm cumming." He grunted. Jeno grabbed your hair pulling it aside, exposing your bare neck and collarbones, Jeno put his nose on your neck, inhaling your sweet aroma. "Can I mark you- princess, wanna make you mine-" He asked, waiting to get a permission to forever mark you his. "Mark me please, alpha mark me!" Jeno licked the side of your neck, and bit down on it, he licked the blood that was oozing out of the mark. You screamed in pain, but the idea of being his was enough for you to bare the pain. Jeno kept thrusting in you, you feel like your were about to pass out, a new feeling rushed in, not like your typical orgasm. Your now breathy moans echoed the room along with the slapping sound of the skin, you screamed in pleasure as you squirted all over his abs. "S-shit , that was so hot, I'm so close princess." He growled, liquid dripping down your thighs. His thrusts became more sloppy, the raspy low grunts was starting to become smoky moans. You feel his dick twitched in you. He held you closer, gripping onto you harder. With a final push, his knot inflamed, hot white cum covering your walls, you whimpered from the knot's pain. The feeling was way too addictive that you can barely feel the pain now. Jeno lays on you for a few seconds, you can feel his warm breathe against your neck. It took a few seconds for him to recover from his orgasm, he finally broke the silence

"How are you feeling?" He asked genuinely, "Tired and confused...I thought you never liked me..." "Idiot, why would I not like you." "No shit Sherlock, you acted like you hated my guts." You argued

"Well now you're stuck with me forever."

[todorokies]

cherry blossoms, tarot cards & chamomile - suguru geto

contents: sfw, fluff, meet-cute at book store, fem!reader, strangers to potential lovers, mentions of curses & whatnot, tarot cards reading,, 1.5k words.

a/n: this one goes out to the hopeless romantics who wanna fall in love in a bookstore aka me (we hear & see you)

spring has sprung as one would say. the pale snow that covered the ground has melted away, which in turn allows the freshly cut grass to flourish.

cherry blossoms had recently littered the streets alongside the sidewalks, with each petal engaging in a unique twirl that fluttered like a dragonfly before angelically collapsing on the concrete.

with spring came along new missions suguru would have to endure either by himself or with his trusted friend —and nuisance— satoru. as curse energy that once accumulated during the toughest season gets released during the warmer seasons.

today was different however, the pair had been sent into town to retrieve a relic from the past of jujutsu history; a two thousand year old book that slipped out of the archives and has been rumoured to be contained in a bookstore hidden in the nooks of jimbocho.

“the warm breeze outside might fix the low oxygen levels in your heads.” yaga sarcastically reasons when satoru made his complaints about the origins of the mission known.

the raven haired sorcerer reprimanded his tone but expressed his concerns in a more diligent manner. anyone with half a brain would know it would take many decades to successfully pawn through each and every bookshop in the jimbocho district for a specific book, that neither of them even have the slightest clue as of what it looks like.

nonetheless, they were shooed off campus with a pat on the back and a simple: “you’ll know it when you see it—or rather feel it.”

suguru now navigated through the busy streets alone, —his white haired companion taking off a few hours ago on his own journey— with both hands in his pockets taking in the simplicities of life that surrounded him while keeping his eyes sharp for any unusual curse energy.

each corner he’d turn the storefronts would be filled with colourful book spines neatly lined adjacent to one another. the harsh sound of crimped sandpaper occasionally made its presence known when a costomer would flip through the pages.

a bitter earthly aroma tangoed with the wind. one would simply scrunch their nose up and turn the other way but for suguru, the olden smell of books filled him with comfort.

elderly couples hand in hand, a few children accompanied by their parents, and the complementary store cats that would linger in the isles or be found curled up on a random stack of books.

after roaming about and checking a few stores for their recent inventory stock, suguru oddly felt inclined towards a particular store that was larger than the others.

he enters, a ring of a bell from above signals his arrival. immediately, the smell of different assortments of tea wafts in and lingers in his nose.

a café combined with a bookstore…that’s definitely convenient. he eyes the ‘ring for assistance’ bell that rest apon the main counter, he lightly scoffs before ringing it.

“how many times do i have to tell your ass, no, you can’t conduct a séance he—” you round the tight, abelit, breathable corner to face the person it seems you weren’t expecting. you slightly jump back in a frightened manner then regain your composure, or more so, your customer service demeanour.

“my apologies! business is slow today and i thought a rather persistent costomer had came back. do you need help with a book or would you like to order something?” you enunciate your words with care, trying to not let any vocal cracks slip as you fiddle with your colourful apron which is a rather stark contrast from your all black work uniform. 

suguru would pride himself as goal oriented man. the kind demands of asking to take a look at your recent stocks to see if the cursed book has fallen onto your shelves nearly wavers past his lips but the faint smell of his favourite tea clouds his better judgement.

“yes, i’d take chamomile tea with honey please.”

“coming right up!” you popped the ‘p’, scurrying off into the back to prepare his choice of beverage. alone with his thoughts again, suguru observed his surroundings with more caution.

the store has a whimsical charm to it. different array of ambiance lighting scattered throughout the establishment, vintage burgundy rugs made an appearance here and there, a few wooden chairs cushioned by velvet and a long couch that looks as if it has been passed down through many generations.

a sturdy coffee table in the middle and of course, the probably hundreds of thousands books neatly tucked in the shelves.

he wonders if you run this big place by yourself, must be a hassle if you do. he also wonders why a séance was mentioned by you in an irritated tone. maybe it could connect to his current mission? he plans on subtly bringing the topic up.

“one chamomile with honey!” you cheerfully announce handing over his mug. you don’t miss the way your heart skips a few beats when your fingers accidentally brush against his.

suguru nods his head to express his thanks. while digging for his wallet he brings up what’s been on his mind, “what was that séance you were talking about before?” he lightheartedly inquires.

you cautiously look over your shoulders and nibble on your bottom lip, as if you were scared someone might hear, “nothing too serious i suppose. these past few days business has plummeted cause there’s been talk about how this place is haunted.”

a small beat passes.

“which it isn’t by the way! just some silly stuff kids say when they wanna get under uncle daichi’s skin,” you grimace.

you then go on a bit of a tangent about how the alleged “hauntings” started a few weeks ago, just about the same time you gotten a new inventory restock. books would fly off shelves, unnerving whispers can be heard, lights would flicker and the atmosphere would turn unsettling.

suguru is unfazed yet intrigued by this, he calmly listens as his sharp eyes never leaves your face. he notices how animated your expressions are when retelling the events; you talk heartily with your hands as well as your voice that creates a certain bass to match your feelings.

he hums as he takes a slip from his mug, “can you show me the known hotspot for these hauntings?” you nod eagerly and swiftly move from your spot at the front desk to the back of the store.

yaga wasn’t kidding when he said he’d be able to feel the cursed book, as the cursed energy in the air multiples a tenfold when they step into the secluded part of the store the lighting couldn’t reach. he wonders how a cursed object this powerful was able to conceal itself from being spotted for so long.

suguru plucks the hefty grimoire off the shelf, small dust particles flying in its wake, “i’d like to purchase this one.” you look at him as if he grew an extra pair of eyes, but quickly shrug off any confusion and lead him back to the front of the store to cash him out.

as you progress his payment you feel conflicted about letting this particular stranger go so soon. holding him up for a few minutes couldn’t hurt, right?

“uhh.. wait, with each purchase a tarot card reading is offered free of charge. would you like to know what the future potentially has in store for you?”

suguru presses his lips in a thin line and sighs. he doesn’t have time for this and doesn’t believe in cards beholding a hidden future, however he is a sorcerer and just bought a book that would be a danger to society if not soon contained. raining on other peoples parade simply isn’t his forte.

he softly smiles with his eyes turning into crescent moons, “hit me.”

you try to conceal your excitement as you bring out a deck bound together by a rubber band. you start shuffling until four different cards slip out of the deck.

death, judegment, eight of cups, and the lovers.

“intresting…don’t be too alarmed by the death card, it could indicate the decay of a friendship that doesn’t hinder towards your beliefs or an troublesome habit finally coming to an end.”

you continue, “judement and eight of cups go hand in hand as your new calls for action may put certain things into perspective for you, as this chosen path may lead to dissatisfaction.”

“and finally, the lovers card is the nice light at the end of the tunnel. someone you can confine in and pour your heart out to; tarot cards can be interpreted in millions of ways so, take what i say with a grain of salt.” you smile as you put the cards away to bid the stranger farewell.

suguru stares astonished absorbing this information, you’re good. he’ll give you that. “well..thanks for the reading and the tea, have a great day.”

and just like that, he turns his back to leave until he stops just in front of the door. “oh, and i can assure you the ‘hauntings’ should come to an end now.” he smirks and waves you goodbye.

you smile until he fully leaves which is when the realization hits that you didn’t even get the chance to get his name, you frown and groan into your palms.

maybe he’ll swing by again…hopefully.

reblogs & feedback is extremely appreciated !! <3

[byhees]

hold me tight.

엔하이픈 형선 ・ female reader + word count 400 genre fluff established relationship warnings not proof-read skinship kissing — more

a/n. this was written in mid 2023 … it’s 2024 now..

heeseung

would prefer facing you whilst cuddling— his heart simply swells at the sight of you; likes it when you curl into his circle of warmth, head softly resting against his chest, his heartbeat strumming a pretty song in the comfortable silence.

cuddles accompanied by little kisses; him pressing quick pecks over your face, each gentle touch akin to dew-kissed petals.

would softly run a hand up and down your back, a smile blossoming on his face with every soft, ticklish giggle lacing the air.

jongseong

cuddles, where you both are on the verge of sleep; eyelids lightly flutter close every so often, yet hands are still wrapped around the other’s torso, not wanting to break away from the comfort.

him clinging to you after a long day, the smell of your shampoo filling his senses with such indescribable love; finger barely grazing your arm, face buried in the crook of your neck.

words of affirmation being elicited, voices lightly bouncing off the four walls of the quiet room; his heart melting when you blink up to meet his gaze, the softest of smiles dawning your features.

jaeyun

likes it when you rest your head on his lap; he’d run his fingers through your hair, lightly messing it up only for the reaction it’d provoke; would occasionally boop the tip of your nose, finding your response adorable.

likes hearing your voice; it lingers like stardust, calming him almost immediately; relishes in the way it softens with the close proximity, whispers leaving a trail of delicate warmth in their wake.

would likely be the big spoon; he simply likes holding you close to his embrace, as though a fortress to keep you snug and safe. the feeling that’d flourish in his chest is beyond the capabilities of verbal explanation; would often brush strands of stray hair out of your face, finding everything about you so endearing.

sunghoon

cuddles where his eyes softly lock onto the contours of your face, gaze gently tracing the crests of your cheeks; his lips lightly brushing your forehead, a small kiss being pressed onto skin. would pull you back into a warm hug after a moment of admiration.

would cling onto you like a koala, not wanting to be separated from your embrace; always has the sweetest smile on his face, deep dimple being the cherry-on-top to his soft request.

him finding comfort in your hold, often crashing into your warmth after a stressful setback; his heart flitting and fluttering as you softly squeeze his arm, a breath of relief being heaved; would kiss the top of your head, heart full of love.

taglist open! @halcyoni-ki @wondipity @yjjungwon @shysakuno @niktwazny303 @vnsux @minhosify @haechansbbg @yeomha @stepout-09-15 @chansburgah @sona-verse01 @lilly-bubblelops @smouches @mrchweeee @luvistqrzzz @nwjws @ibsysbsfsunsbs @rikisly @amyysfics @mixtape-racha @berry-and-kkami @rikislady @gweoriz @czlluvriki @okwonyo @okwons networks! @kflixnet @enhanet @k-labels

[moonstruckme]

Well hello lovely Mae!! Happiest of birthdays omg and a new theme? Killing it, absolutely incredible ✨ I'm having to anon because when I made my side acct, I connected with my main 😅 so this is longlivedelusion!

7k?? Actually insane. Biggest congrats to you on that, not that I'm surprised since your writing is amaaazing. So to celebrate, I'll try requesting?? Hopefully I do this right loll

Craving a bit of an apple pie with Rem or Sirius (or both!) and #21 (the sake one, I think that's the right number)🥰 feel like Sirius especially would love to travel a bit outside the UK, so interested to see how you'd approach~

Omg hi my love!! Thank you so much. I have to admit I was a bit intimidated by this request because I've never had sake but I tried haha <3

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 418 words

It’s suspicious enough that Sirius decides to make tea, but your confusion only worsens when he comes back into the sitting room carrying three small cups you’ve never seen before. 

“Did we get new cups?” you wonder aloud. 

Remus nearly stands up in his hurry to take two from him, tsking. “Don’t burn yourself, love.” 

“We did get new cups,” Sirius says, sitting back in his spot beside you and blowing into his cup with a smug look. “And something new to drink.” 

You take yours cautiously. It’s steaming, but the liquid inside doesn’t look like tea. You smell it cautiously. “This feels like a scheme.” 

Remus hums his agreement. Sirius shrugs coyly. 

You decide to humor him. “What new something did you get us to drink?”

He grins at you. “So glad you’ve asked, my loveliest girl. Tonight, we’re drinking sake.” 

“Definitely a scheme,” says Remus. 

You take a small sip of your drink. It’s sweeter than you expected. Fruity, with a bit of sharpness. 

Sirius kicks his feet up on the coffee table. “I just think we could all use a bit of cultural enrichment. Sake is Japanese. You know what else is in Japan? A rich cultural history and stunning natural landscapes.” 

“Are you quoting a magazine or something?” you ask. 

“I’ve been doing some light research.” 

Remus laughs. “If you want to go to Japan, you only have say so.” 

“Fine.” Sirius sighs, but the sound is laden with fondness. “I’d have liked to get through my presentation, but yeah. I think we should go to Japan.” 

“I’d like that,” you say. He looks at you, delighted, and you can’t help but smile. “I’ve always wanted to see the cherry blossoms.” 

“We’d have to save up for a little while,” Remus cautions you both. “I’m sure we want to have enough money to do everything we’ll want to, but yeah. I’d love to go, too.” 

“Really?” Sirius’ voice pitches. He leans over to kiss Remus, then you. “Thank you, my loves.” 

“You don’t need to give us a presentation to ask for things.” Remus rolls his eyes lovingly, taking a drink from his cup. “Or buy new cups.” 

“I wanted them anyway,” Sirius replies. “Actually, the sake was only the first part of the plan. I didn’t think you would agree so easily.” 

You raise your eyebrows at him. “What was the rest?” 

“Well, actually, our booking at the karaoke place isn’t refundable…” 

Remus groans. 

[iloveaustinelvisandmannymore]

Only him

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x reader

Summary: You always had a thing for retro games. When you got a old dating game from a pawn shop for practically free, you thought you were blessed. how wrong were you.

Warning: Yandere!Toji, Fictional love triangle, Horror? Al!sentient!Toji, Angst, Panty smelling, A hint of somnophilia, Perv!Toji, Domestic abuse, Manhandling, Smut, fingering, squirting, cum-shot, cream pie, hair pulling, choking, this is a dark fanfic.

Today was the best day ever! You had a good feeling about this day, but you didn't know why until now!

You squealed loudly as you stepped out of the local pawn shop, unable to help it; you danced with happiness and began to walk to your shoe box of an apartment while ignoring the disapproving stares of those who watched the scene.

The thud of your purse colliding with the floor didn't faze you, either when you almost tripped over your toss shoes. Too absorbed to care.

Flopping onto your bed, you took in the details of the Nintendo game card. The picture on the front was a bit chipped but it was still eye-catching. A pink heart sat front and center, with tiny red lettering of the title in the middle, and a park with cherry blossoms trees was the background. Mr. Right, hmm? I see about that.

Grabbing your old Nintendo Switch from your bedside table, you popped the card in the side and waited. A cheerful, 90s tune sounded out as the picture on the card filled your switch screen. With a smile, you turned to lay on your back as you clicked play, and once the pink screen faded, a menu of different features graced you. Character list?

The first roll of characters was less than eye-catching, and although the designs were made to be attractive, none captivated you. The second roll appeared to be just the same when two characters that stood side by side caught your attention. Black ragged hair lay on his forehead and almost covered the beautiful green eyes of the first character; they were like a freshly cut emerald, shined to perfection. His lips pulled up into a smug smirk, and an old scar ran down the right side of his mouth. The black jacket and white button-up shirt did nothing to hide his muscular build.

You gulped as your core pulsed.

The other character was just as handsome. His hair was white as snow, styled in a half down half spiked hairstyle, giving him a boyish look. His eyes rivaled the older man before him, pure light blue. Unlike the other character, his build was slimmer but no less attractive, his playful, cocky grin did things no real man could do to you.

Well, you knew what characters you'd be playing with.

Days passed and you couldn't put down your switch. Every lunch break at work was spent playing Mr. Right rather than eating and at night, the only light in your apartment was the screen light of your game. You were like a dead girl walking, dark bags under your eyes and a slouched posture; you swore you heard a kid's small scream as you placed down his and his mother's food on the table of the cafe where you worked.

So when things begin to go missing, you blame it on your tiredness. Surely, you must have misplaced them. You mean, who would break into your home to steal a few of your used underwear, o-or like your old t-shirts? Right, that's insane! You didn't think you were too interesting to be stalked; god you need to take a break from reading Yandere stories.

You shook your head and scoffed at yourself as you left your apartment, locking the door before you walked to work.

The room was purged in an eerie silence until suddenly loud, unsettling static screamed out of your left open switch. The lights of your apartment flickered rapidly as the sound seemed to grow louder when everything turned off, pitching the entire apartment building into darkness.

Toji stood in front of your twin-sized bed, running his hand over the imprint in the mattress when the light flicked on. He inhale shakily as the tips of his fingers traced the slight dip as memories flood his sick head, the nights he lay behind you his hands on your tits, pawing and squeezing them in his palms before he abandoned one breast as he runs his hand down your body to your warm cunt but just before he touched you there. He stopped. He couldn't. He wanted you to be awake to feel his love.

Toji stepped back, pushing the memory away as he moved around the small place you called home.

Shamrock orbs tailed around the quiet space, taking in the half-clean and half-messy state until they found the object of their desire. Toji walked in the direction of his favorite item, and without much thought, he snagged a pair of used panties from the laundry basket and buried his nose in the worn fabric. A deep rumbling groan escaped his chest and his eyes flattered shut. The scent of your old musky still clung to it, and he inhaled it like it was the most intoxicating, sweet smell. To him. It was. It was the essence of his goddess, his doll. The one who helped him see the value of life.

Without you, he'd never have broken away from his cured reality, who always seemed so eager to see him and..that white-haired punk. Toji shook his head, disgusted at the thought of the other man, and instead filled his mind with you. Toji spent the rest of the time you were gone to learn more and, of course, returned to the game after picking some trinkets along the way.

The game was starting to get a little weird. At first, it was normal. You'd interact with Toji, your in-game father none the wiser of the relationship between his daughter and best friend, then you'd hang out with your college classmate and friend Gojo. When you begin to notice every time you played with Gojo, a small chibi in the form of toji would peek around the corner of the screen every once in a while. Then it became more disturbing. You couldn't find the blue-eyed male anywhere; almost like he was completely deleted from the game.

On top of that, the older man would say and ask things that were too specific and too possessive. One day, he'd ask you where you went and who you were with when you suddenly had to leave your switch at home because of a family emergency. He'd go on about how he was your true love, and you simply thought maybe he was programmed that way, but it was no less creepy. You eventually just decided to take the day off from playing.

You woke up with a jump and groaned. Your phone vibrated and pinged with your chosen notification sound constantly. "Ya gonna answer me dollface?" A guff, baritone voice spoke in the empty room, and with a small scream, you slammed your back against the wall your bed was pushed against. Scanning hecticly for any human form.

"Over here." The voice spoke, closer than you heard the first time and to your right. Looking to your bedside table, sat your phone, lit up with an unnerving light; you picked it up with a shaking hand, and a cold dread settled within your stomach as Toji stared back at you with a small smirk, his eyes dark with such intensity. "There ya are. Hi, doll." His smirk widens at your terrified expression. "H-how?" Your voice cracked with fear, how was this possible? This couldn't be real; this only happened in movies! But apparently fucking not.

"Don't know myself, but that not 'mportant. You thought you could just ignore me? Doll this doesn't work that way." his smirk faded, and without warning, your phone suddenly flew out of your hand, crashing to the floor, and a blinding light overtook the space, blurring your vision. Once your vision came back, the beefy man stood before you, his eyes bore into you.

That was only the beginning of the nightmare that became your life. You were trapped in a place you once thought that nothing bad could happen to you as long as you lived there. Toji never let you leave his sight, food and other stuff you needed were ordered and brought to your door. Your phone and other devices were completely contorted by the man who currently seemed to watch your every move like he was taking you in. Many times, you tried to escape, but you came to the knowledge that although Toji could sleep, the moment your feet would touch the floor, Toji's eyes opened and, in a sleepy voice, asked where you were going. He was a light sleeper, that's just your damn luck.

Maybe...there was a chance you could tire him out enough he was knocked out cold, giving you enough time to escape. Now you were no virgin, you had your fair share of sex, so you thought it would be a piece of cake. Oh, how laughable.

Toji's thick digits, curled and pushed against that gushy spot in your spongy core, and his palm smacked against your poor, rubbed raw clitoris as you desperately tugged at his cock. You cried out as your head was pulled back by the strands of your hair. "There she is. C'mon on, doll, look at 'er," He whispered against your ear as he forced you to look into the mirror, his grip tightening as your pussy clenched. In the reflective glass, you look just as wrecked as you felt. Lidded eyes stared back at you as you took everything in, your hair was pulled into a ponytail by the man behind you, three of his fingers thrust into your puffy cunt, and squirts of slick jutted out to cover your thighs, his palm, and the floor. One of your hands holds onto his arm, and the other slides up and down his cock.

"ain't she the fuckin' prettiest?" Toji bit your earlobe as he no longer thrusted but began to shake his digits rapidly against your walls. You screamed as you violently came, clear liquid spraying out, drenching Toji's palm that rubbed your clit as he continued to finger you. Your hips jerked, your legs shook, and tears cascaded down your face; you looked like a slutty mess in the mirror.

"Fuuuck!" You hissed in pain, your hands barely catching yourself as your knees sit the hard wooden floor; the only thing that held you up, that being Toji's arm, was ripped away. Yet you had no time to truly feel the pain in your kneecaps as your locks yanked backward, training your orbs onto the man in all his naked glory, his strawberry pink tip wept pre-cum and the owner of such a beautiful tip, fisted his dick as he growled and snarled until he let out a groan and pearly, spurts of semen painted your face, to your cheek, nose, and chin.

"Fuckin' hell, doll," Toji panted, "s' beautiful covered in me." He wiped his seed off your chin with his thumb and spread it on your lip like a gloss, and without thought your tongue traced your bottom lip, tasting his cum. Earning yourself a pretty groan before you were pulled up from the ground and onto your wobbly legs. "Toji-i can't." You stuttered, your back hitting the mattress, crawling up the bed in a fertileless attempt to worm from his grasp, but his hands gripped your hips and pulled your back til your ass laid on his thighs, "T-too sensitive. Please." You begged basically to a wall.

"ya can handle me, my doll can handle anythin'." He cooed, his thumb rubbing the dip of your hip as his other hand, took the base of his member and lined up with your cunt. "Toji-plea-" your words were cut as you screamed, his fingers dug into your neck and his thick length buried itself in your snug pussy

"Mmmm..Shiiiit babydoll!" Toji laughed as he stared down at where he disappeared into you, slowly drawing his hips back, "She's squeezin' me, nugh..think she's lovin' my dick." Toji's wicked green eyes glanced up, and with a nasty grin he snapped his hips, and your mouth dropped as you openedly moaned, tossing your head back against the pillow. Your thighs were pushed to the side as The older man put all his weight onto you and used it to drill you into the mattress. "You..mmfuck like this? Betcha do, takin' my cock like a champ." He chuckled, groaning at the end as your pussy clenched at his words. You babbled in denial and shook your head. You didn't want to give him an even bigger ego, but you couldn't help the mewl that left your lips as his fingers squeezed the sides of your neck and his other fingers entangled in your hair, "Don't fuckin' lie to me, girl." He sneered, his heaving chest against your smashed breast as his hips snapped, not missing a step behind him, "Jus' let me make that..fuck..pretty pussy cum." He lowered his voice, almost like he was begging you, as he gently kissed your chin, his hand letting go of your hair and his grip loosening around your neck.

You nodded desperately, you gave up on pretending like you weren't losing your mind from this pleasure, and the way it felt his cock felt was in your tummy, or the pleasurable stinging of his hefty ball smacking against the carve of your ass. The softness in Toji melted away like it was just a show, an act, and a wicked, nasty grin was your one warning. His beefy biceps wrapped around your thighs, and he stood up. Your shoulder was the only thing besides your head that stayed on the bed. The echo of your ass smacks against his hips, the wet, squelching echo as he rapidly pounded your slick drooling cunt, the cream of your sex and his pre-cum that framed his base, and the new punishing angle was all it took. You came, your slick gushing down your body.

"Mmfuc..you're milkin' me baby doll." Toji moaned, his cock throbbed as he stilled to a stop as his cum flooded your womb and walls. You had a second to catch your breath before Toji resumed his brutal fucking.

Your eyes slowly open, adjust to the darkness of the room and turn to Toji, the said man in question, lying beside you, sleeping peacefully after multiple rounds, and yet somehow, someway, you were conscious; maybe someone was rooting for you out there. Inhaling you softly planted your feet on the cool wood and lifted your weight. Not a single stir.

Hope gripped your chest as you quietly put on the clothes you wore that were fling when you seduced Toji. Every cautious step towards the door was like you could finally breathe, and once you touched the handle of the door and twisted it open, you could taste your freedom.

Burly appendages wrapped around your stomach, and you yanked away from the door, ripped away from your only chance at escape. "LET ME GO!!" You screamed and thrashed in his arms. "Ya thought I was stupid? Huh?" He grunted as he tightened his hold as you doubled your efforts. "DAMN IT LISTEN TO ME!!" Toji yelled, turning you around. "N-" you tried to scream, to call for help, do anything, but all you could do was stare up at Toji in shock after your body barreled onto the floor by the force of his slap. "You think I'm dumb? You showed no sign of sexual arousal to me until now. Ya thought I wouldn't have known you were gonna pull some shit like this after we fucked?!" He sneered, pulling you onto your feet by your arm, his other hand on your back.

"You ain't leavin' me," Toji vowed. The low static sound that hung in the background became louder as the light bulbs flickered. "I'll make sure of that." The screening static grew more deafening until it all stopped; the bright light of your switch faded away, and no later did it slam shut.

Locking you from the real world forever.

@ilovewriothesley, @scratkount , @tojishugetiddies, @shyartnerd564, @blobkvna, @1800imgay, @plsthinkabtme @karla91663, @pierrotandsam , @miau-ficreader, @tojispepperonis, @darkstarlight82, @crimbabyops , @verlhfghhy, @xxmaddhatter39xx , @grima4lurking, @littlesealpup

[muniimyg]

3: the favourite snacks // series m.list

note: ohhh... it's kinda cute here ;) how are we liking them? lmk ur thoughts! oc's moment to shine is coming soon !!!

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//

As usual, Jungkook interrupts your reading time. Before, it didn’t mean much. Before, he would quietly sit beside you and mind his own business until he got out of his mind bored. Then, he would bug you and you would have no choice but to put your book down. You didn't mind it before. Before, it was whatever.

However, the scene is different today.

Today, he ran to the library after his lecture and couldn’t find you. Disappointed, Jungkook turned his heels to head home… But as fate would have it; he found you along the way.

At the sight of you, right then and there, Jungkook decided that this was his favourite season. 

The season of you.

How could it not be when this… You… Are just so beautiful? As you sit on the grass, leaning against the tree trunk, the wind gently blows cherry blossom petals around you. It’s beautiful. It looks magical.. Like it was fake. I mean, it had to be right? You look so perfect. It looks like those made-up scenes in movies. Jungkook rubs his eyes to make sure it isn’t. This is real life. 

This is you. 

However, his dream-like state of mind is shaken awake when he approaches you, and you refuse to give him the time of day.

First, he stands in front of you and greets you warmly. You ignore him. Then, he sits down beside you and nudges you. Even though your body moves to his push, you still remain silent. Now, this is his last attempt before he loses his mind. 

Jungkook inches closer to you. You sit still, doing your best not to move away. You have to stay put. You have to stand your ground! But life gets 10 times more difficult because he smells so good. As he leans forward, he fixes your hair, and you're awestruck. He tucks your hair behind your ear, sending chills down your spine. You swear it’s just the cool breeze, but you know in your heart it’s him. 

He makes your heart race. 

He smells good.

He looks good, too.

It's no wonder your body betrays you. You squirm from his touch, unable to hold yourself still. It’s gentle and light—but it’s just so ticklish! As you react, Jungkook offers a smug smile. In return, you push his hand away and huff at him. 

“I’m not talking to you.”

Jungkook’s smile drops. 

“What? Why?” His mind spins with confusion. Meanwhile, you keep a straight face and go back to reading. “What did I do?”

Keeping your book up, you answer him without really answering him.

“You know what you did.”

Jungkook thinks for a moment. What could he have done? The last time he saw you was a few days ago. You two met up to have a quick study session together. It was the same routine! What could he have done wrong since then? Rather, what did he do wrong then?

“... I’m not really sure what I did wrong… Can I have a hint or something?” His tone is genuine and curious, making it harder for you to dish-out your anger.

So, you don’t respond.

Impatient and annoyed at your pettiness, he grabs your book and lowers it to see your face. 

Infuriated, you whine. “Hey! I’m reading—”

“—And I’m trying to talk to you.” Jungkook snaps. "Come on, ___. What's going on? Talk to me, please."

You glare at him, completely baffled at his audacity. Does he seriously think that he can play dumb? He can't. You won't let him.

“Well, I’m not talking to you.”

With an eyebrow raised, he speaks out his thoughts. “Why not? I don’t think I did anything wrong—”

“You lied to me!” You blurt. “You lied to me, and you know it. I looked so stupid!”

Jungkook’s throat feels dry. 

Lied to you?

About what?

He tries to run everything he has ever said to you back. He tries to remember everything from the moment you two first met to this very moment now… Every story he has ever said and every tiny side comment—yet, he can’t think of a time he was dishonest. He had no reason to lie to you! Talking to you is so easy because you’re such a good listener. If anything, talking to you has compelled him to be more honest… Jungkook reflects and concludes: no. He is not a liar. Besides, it’s not like he was hiding anything—

“You can skate,” you reveal. 

Jungkook blinks.

“Who told you?”

Fed up, you shove your book to Jungkook's chest. He lets it hit him and drop before reaching for your hands. Quickly, you swipe them away from him. No way is he holding your hand! Not after all the crap he just pulled.

Crossing your arms, you begin to confront him. “Yoongi and Jin were drinking last night. They called me and teased me about how dumb I was… How naive I was because you knew how to skate the entire time! I took the time to teach you how to skate because you kept falling—a-and to what? Find out you were pretending the entire time? W-why would you do that? Why would you lie to me?” 

Oh, it’s bad. 

It’s pathetically horrible how Jungkook is so into you right now.

It melts his heart how you could be this serious and hurt over this little fib. This has to be the cutest thing you could ever do… Be mad at him for wanting to hold your hand just because he was mischievous about it. 

He wants to laugh. He wants to tell you that you’re cute and the entire thing was just a stupid boy-coded play… But, considering how bruise-hearted you’re acting… Jungkook thinks twice about it. 

Then, he decides to give in and abide by your needs. 

Answers.

You want answers and answers is what he’ll give you. 

“First of all: you’re not dumb,” Jungkook reassures you. You make a sour face and shake your head at him.

Groaning, you tell him: “Yes, I am! I looked like a total idiot trying to teach you how to skate when you’re literally a hockey player—”

“Second, I’m not a hockey player,” he chuckles. 

With a half smile, you return: “Right… You’re just a liar.”

Okay. 

… He deserved that. 

Jungkook doesn’t know what to say or do… Honestly, what are you supposed to say or do? The issue is ridiculous but at the same time, he understands you feel deceived. So… now what? 

Honesty. 

“Okay… I admit it,” Jungkook sighs, accepting his defeat. “I lied to you about not knowing how to skate. I’m a liar. I’m sorry—”

“Ah ha!” you point your finger at him. Then, you poke his chest. “That's why I’m not talking to you—”

“But I’m apologizing—”

You shush him. “Doesn’t matter. At least, not right now. Like... Oh my goodness, Jungkook! I’m so embarrassed! It’s bad enough that—”

“—That I like you?” Jungkook interrupts you. You’re tongue-tied, unable to find words to deny or confirm. With shaky eyes, he does his best to look at you with the sincerest gaze. “I refuse to apologize for my feelings."

"It's not about your feelings—"

Jungkook plays smart. He's all in anyways. "Okay. Fine, it's not about my feelings. It's about yours, okay? ___, I’m sorry, okay? I just wanted to hold your hand… Is it that bad? Am I that awful for wanting to hold your hand?”

Slowly, you shake your head. You didn't meant to make him feel bad about his feelings for you! That wasn't the point. The point was... Well..

Oh, god.

What was the point again?

Your words beat your thoughts. “N-no… I just… I don’t understand why you didn’t just tell me.”

Jungkook looks at you softly, and it makes your heart stumble. Booping your nose, his lips curve into a smirk.

“It’s called flirting, dummy.”

“Hmph,” you pout, turning your face away from him. Under your breath, you mutter, “... So you’re calling me dumb too, huh?”

Jungkook panics. “W-what? No! That’s not what I—”

Without much thought, he grabs your hand and squeezes it. You turn to him, eyeing the way he’s holding your hand. You send him a look, and immediately, he drops your hand and puts it up in surrender. Then, he reaches for his backpack and unzips it. 

“Look! I know my apology doesn’t mean much to you right now, but it’s true. I am so sooo sorry, ___. I’ll deal with the guys. I’ll tell them to shut up and drop it. You’re not dumb—okay?” Jungkook digs inside his backpack and pulls out a plastic bag filled with various items. “Snacks! I was at the convenience store... Then, I suddenly thought of you. So, I bought your favourite snacks. Then I headed to the library but then you weren’t there… And now I’m here—a-and there’s so many! So many snacks, ___! There’s banana milk, some Yakult, and oh, I even bought that cup with the fancy ice—”

“... Is that pocky?” You shift, taking a small peek.

Jungkook’s eyes light up. He nods, shaking the bag in front of you. “Almond crush… Cos I have a crush on you—” You sit up and send him a warning look. Jungkook leans his body back and laughs. “Okay, okay, okay! Sorry! Almond crush is for me… The strawberry pocky is for you… Your favourite, cutie.”

Biting your bottom lip, you give in.

Your heart can refuse Jungkook, but it remains powerless against strawberry pocky. Jungkook takes out your strawberry pocky first. You’re drooling at this point… Before you can hold your hand out and ask for the pocky, Jungkook already opens it for you. When he successfully gets through the box and rips the wrapper, he offers the pocky to you as a peace offering. 

Unspoken, he knows he’s forgiven the minute you take it from his hands. 

Yet, he plays it safe. He waits for you to get a few bites in and for the smile on your face to appear. Once it does, he smiles cheekily at you. 

“Still mad at me?”

Between chews, you reply, “Let me think..."

"Whatever you need to do, my smart girl."

You shove a few more pieces of pocky in your mouth. After you chew and he laughs at you, you voice your decision.

"Nope... Not mad at you anymore. We’re good.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes as he reaches for the top of your head. He ruffles your hair and continues to laugh to himself… Perhaps, it wasn’t just about the lie. You were hangry. Mentally, he notes to always keep strawberry pocky in his bag. In case of future screw-ups or of hangry ___ moments. 

When he’s sure your mood has improved completely, he opens his pocky. 

You watch as he does so. Jungkook takes a bite out of his pocky stick and moans in approval. As he eats, he takes a moment to look out at the view of the rest of the field. Jungkook takes it all in. Other students are sitting on the grass, under the other cherry blossom trees, and even playing. It's a calm late afternoon, and he can't help but think about how much he likes this moment.

How the raspberry lemonade sky is peering over the horizon. How you're beside him. How cool the spring breeze is... It just feels so good to be with you.

“This is a nice spot!" He tells you. "I like the view. I like you—"

"You're ruining my peace," you complain. Shutting your eyes, you focus on the pocky. "But yeah, it's a nice spot. I found it while I had that whole week of avoiding you."

Jungkook laughs. "So I found your new hideout? Sorry, not sorry."

You shrug and point at the Yakult inside the bag. He digs in the bag and takes it out. Like the pocky, he prepares it before giving it to you. When he hands you the drink, you take a sip.

"Can this be our spot?"

You choke.

Jungkook's shoulders drop, finding it hilarious and also a little offending at the same time. Was it really this hard to flirt with you? Are you this childish? He never noticed.

It's annoying that his feelings only grow even more.

"Oh my god," he moves closer to you and pats your back. You take another sip to help relieve your throat. As you recover, he lectures you. "Fine. You can have this damn spot."

When he moves back to his spot, you sit and stare at him. Jungkook continues to eat his pocky. Moving on, he pushes the conversation forward.

"Ahh, I forgot how good this is. Almond is the best.” 

You tilt your head at him, wondering what it’s like to be completely wrong about a simple thing. It's like all your pressing thoughts dismissed themselves.

“Strawberry is better,” you claim. You say it rather simply. You say it honestly.

Jungkook copies your head tilt. 

“Strawberry is overhyped,” he argues with you. “Almond is more expensive. The ingredients are more worth it. It’s not just a fruit-flavored cream—”

You huff at him. “Strawberry is not overhyped! Just because it’s cheaper doesn’t mean it’s worth less—”

“Actually… It does.”

The anger that you had earlier? The one that went away? Yeah… It’s back. 

Fuming, you begin your rant. “Strawberry is classic. Almond was made because people got bored of chocolate, so they added almonds to trick people into thinking it was completely different… It's the same thing! Strawberry is an original flavour like—” As you explain, you put another stick in between your lips and suck on the cream. “Mhmm! It’s the best—”

Your words cut off. 

Not because Jungkook retaliates. 

Not because you’re chewing your pocky. 

No. 

It’s because Jungkook dips his head low and takes a bite out of the other end of your pocky stick. He pulls away rather quickly, but it happens… 

It happened. 

His lips brushed against yours. 

Oh my god. 

Jeon Jungkook kissed you! 

Wide-eyed, you pause for a second. Then, you panic. “W-what—”

“Mhmm.. I guess it’s okay,” Jungkook swallows his bite. “I think I still like—”

“Y-you kissed me!” you exclaim, bringing your hands to your lips. 

Jungkook blinks at you.

“No, I didn’t.”

“J-Jungkook," you breathe, “are you gaslighting me? You literally just kissed me!”

Your mind is spinning.

How the heck did that just happen? One second you’re defending strawberry pocky with your life, and the next… You feel more alive than ever. Jungkook has always been sneaky, but you never expected this. It was so innocent yet so mischievous—you have no words!

Perhaps, your inability to explain how you truly feel is what frustrates you and causes you to sound so naggy. 

On the other hand, Jungkook knew exactly what he was doing. He has no issues facing the repercussions. In his heart, he knows he’s just following it… So, why does it matter? This is him taking a chance. This is him… Winning. 

This is you folding. 

“___, that was not a kiss.” Jungkook reasons with you. “Why? Are you upset because you wanted it to be?"

No words. 

"It's okay to be disappointed," he adds. "I'm disappointed you don't want to share this spot with me. The library is boring as fuck so I don't really want it to be our spot, you know—"

“Y-you’ve got to be k-kidding me!” you cry. “Leave the library alone, you hater."

"... Okay?" Jungkook snickers. "You're greedy today. Do you always have to be right? Is that a thing I should know about you, future girlfriend?"

"Future what?" your eyes bulge. "O-okay, fine. Fine! You win. It wasn’t a kiss. It was horrible anyway. I expected more—”

Jungkook squints at you. “We didn’t even kiss, and you’re already accusing me of being a bad kisser? Damn, at least let me prove you wrong.”

Shaking your head profusely. “T-that’s not what I’m saying! I’m sure you’re an excellent kisser—in fact, I should brace myself, right? B-because you’re probably going to kiss me one of these day, and I’ll—”

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

You pause. 

“W-what?”

“You heard the question,” Jungkook inches closer to you. In your mind, your body stiffens… In reality, you’re melting. Your body slightly leans in towards him and Jungkook has to bite his lip to stop himself from smiling. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

“Y-you already did.”

“You said it wasn't a kiss... Who's the liar now?"

You stay silent. Partly because you have no words and partly because you're afraid of what will happen if you don't speak.

Jungkook presses on. "You’re not answering my question…”

Silence.

Then, as he speaks again, you realize you're stuck either way… You’re too shy to actually say the words, but he will take your silence, and find the truth. Or... You can say it for yourself. So, okay.

Fine.

You give in.

“Y-you can do what you want. I just… I thought you already kissed me.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes at you for the second time this afternoon. “No, silly… If I kissed you, it would’ve been like this—”

Before you know it, it happens. 

It really happens. 

Soft, slow, and sweetly—Jeon Jungkook kisses you.

He kisses you under the cherry blossom tree with the raspberry lemonade sky above, and the spring breeze. He kisses you until you can't breathe, and your heart falls for him. Jungkook kisses you in your spot.

The spot.

Yours and his.

[allisonlol]

Ah, a Jouno simp...I've always been more of a Chuuya and Fyodor simp. Having said that Jouno is fast becoming a new contender. On that note..if you get time (uni is a real time eater) could we maybe get headcanons on ideal types of woman for Chuuya, Jouno & Fyodor please

a/n: chuuya and fyodor are on TOP too! jouno was love at first sight tho <33 but i would love to do this for u!! keep in mind y'all this is my OPINIONNNN so be nice or else. felt like i was writing kunikida's list of ideals LOL

warning: fem reader

(Chuuya, Jouno, Fyodor) And Their Ideal Woman

Chuuya

i feel like he's...not really picky??

like as long as ur decently nice and somewhat confident he'd be down to get to know u

i feel like chuuya would definitely be drawn to someone who puts a lot of effort into their appearance tho. he does the same so it's not a double standard!!

^such as well-put together outfits and styling ur hair or makeup to match

this is random but i think he likes girls who wear glasses...it's fine if u don't but bonus points if u do!! especially the round frames

doesn't care about height much. but if ur taller than him don't tease him too much or he'll be insecure :(

personality wise, i think chuuya would like someone who is sweet and a little shy, but knows when to stick up for themselves? like not a pushover

someone who is soft-spoken would be a nice contrast to his hotheadedness and bring out his softer side <3

Jouno

his type is me. next

all jokes but i think jouno would like someone who is very similar to him

^you would have to have a substantial amount of things in common to get close to him in the first place, since he doesn't waste his time on anyone

i'm thinking someone who is quick to aggravate, reserved, and sarcastic

there's a lot of playful banter instead of flirting

appearance doesn’t matter much since he can't exactly see you lol. but he would like to lightly trace over ur face and such to picture what you look like

due to his enhanced sense of smell he would love someone who smells good all the time...like regularly uses lotions and perfume but doesn't over-do it (too much would give him a headache)

^has an inclination towards sweet and warm scents, like vanilla. claims the florals are "too overpowering" (although he likes cherry blossom)

i also feel like jouno would like someone with longer hair. he likes running his hands through it or playing with it :)

Fyodor

he likes anyone who will shut up and sit down to obey his order <3

i'm only partially joking here. he would need someone who will typically submit to him

^doesn't mind pushback once in awhile tho. likes the debates that come up if you question or disagree with him

fyodor would like someone who is very quiet, softspoken, and intelligent. the less friends you have, the better too!

^wants you all the himself lol. if you're very introverted, he won't have to worry about you getting close to anyone else as much (did someone say...possessive...)

does want someone who is close to his intellect but doesn't match it. he wants to be able to teach you things and feel superior

don’t bash me here BUT i think fyodor would like a woman who fits that “trad wife” stereotype. like just chills at home and does housework for him. he tends to neglect taking care of himself and his surroundings so he appreciates if you care for him in that way

i also believe fyodor would be drawn to someone who's style resembles his own. i have a very distinct image of a woman with dark hair, elegant clothing, dark makeup

another one who appreciates if you put a lot of time into your appearance

immense bonus points if you're also russian or can speak the language

taglist: @deadmitochondria @miycutie @scul-pted @exorcisedstraydog @chuuyasboots @shy-socially-awkward-intovert @beandaifuku @stygianoir @sonder-paradise @dreaming-of-ambedo @nervousyetconfidentway @beautiful-is-boring @irethepotato @serenareiss @thescrunkly @ashthemadwriter @mrsdostoevsky @creamygojo @disa-ster