#he’d just defeat him because he knows he’s better than him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

illyrianbitch · 1 month ago

Text

Are We Still Friends?

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: Worried about how his new relationship seems to be changing him, you talk to Azriel about your concerns. Things take a turn when he refuses to listen.

Warnings: some wine sipping, gossiping, angst, miscommunication, friend fighting, jealousy (but no one realizes), az being defensive and blind

Word Count: 5k

Series Masterlist | Part Two

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

“It’s not that I don’t like her.”

The words tasted as false as they were, and you grimaced the moment they slipped out, already bracing for the look Mor would throw your way. True to form, she didn’t disappoint, her expression halfway between amusement and exasperation.

A defeated sigh escaped as you accepted the glass of wine she offered, watching as she filled her own nearly to the brim.

“You’re better than me, then,” she hummed, settling back onto the couch across from you. “Because I don’t like her.”

You raised a brow. “You don’t like many people nowadays.”

She shrugged, casual as ever, though a smirk tugged at her lips. “True. I’m not exactly lining up for any peace medals, am I?”

You chuckled softly, leaning back in your chair. “I just… have this odd feeling about her, you know?”

Mor tilted her head, letting out a noncommittal hum. “Oh, I know. She drags Az around on a leash.”

You were tempted to say something about the irony in her words—remind her, in a loving manner, that she might've been guilty of that once upon a time, too. But you decided against it. She wasn't wrong.

You swirled the wine in your glass, watching the dark liquid move in slow, mesmerizing circles. The feeling wasn’t new; it had been there since the first time you’d met her. Azriel’s new girlfriend Selene was perfectly fine—charming, even. But there was something else, something you couldn’t quite name. Like a faint hum in the background of a quiet room, just irritating enough to notice but not enough to prove anything was wrong.

“Why don’t you talk to him?”

You glanced up, finding Mor’s bright brown eyes sharp and focused on you, the lazy humor of a moment ago gone.

“I doubt he’ll listen,” you admitted, resting the bottom of your glass on your thigh. “He didn’t listen to you.”

“That’s different.”

“It’s really not.”

Mor raised a brow like she wanted to argue, but she only sighed in response. “He’s been so weird about his love life. Gwyn didn’t work out. Elain’s probably the happiest out of all of us. Maybe he’s treading lightly.”

“Maybe,” you murmured, though you weren’t convinced.

Azriel had changed in small, almost imperceptible ways since everything had settled—since everyone had paired off and fallen in love. Everyone except you. And him.

You were fine with your situation, content in the quiet steadiness of your life. Azriel wasn’t. You knew it. He knew it, though he’d never admit it. So much of his self-worth was tangled up in whether he believed himself worthy of love. And the absence of it—of a solid, undeniable love in his life, of a partner, of a potential bond—seemed to weigh on him. To him, it wasn’t just an empty space; it was a failure.

You’d almost go as far as to say he’d become desperate, living in the shadows and watching his brothers experience loves so profound they might as well have been plucked from stories meant to inspire poets and dreamers.

Mating bonds were rare. You reminded yourself of that often. Your family was just an anomaly, their luck skewed impossibly high. But logic wasn’t enough to soothe Azriel, and it certainly wouldn’t stop him from chasing it. He was obsessive. Stubborn.

Nothing you said or did could change his perspective.

Mor’s voice pulled you out of your head again. “Speak of the devil,” she sang out. “Hi, Elain.”

Your gaze snapped up to the doorway, finding Elain standing just beyond the archway. She looked like a spooked deer, frozen in place with that polite smile you’d come to recognize as her default around company she hadn’t fully warmed up to yet.

“We were just talking about Azriel’s unfortunate romantic history,” Mor said smoothly. You glanced at Elain for her reaction.

It had taken time for that particular history to fade. Maybe it was appropriate to joke about now, but you personally would’ve waited a few more years before bringing it up so flippantly. Mor, however, had little patience for such niceties.

Elain’s expression didn’t shift beyond a faint flicker in her eyes, and you realized how much her composure had improved over the years. Then again, it had been a while since she and Lucien had found each other for good—long enough for their bond to solidify and for them to leave for the Day Court after their mating ceremony.

A twinge of jealousy sparked in you before you brushed it aside.

“We’re just gossiping in general. Want to join us?” you asked, gesturing to the chair beside you. Plush and inviting, it mirrored the one you sat on. “Unless Lucien is waiting for you upstairs?”

Elain’s cheeks flushed crimson.

“Lucien’s still with Feyre, catching up,” she said, stepping further into the room. “What are you drinking?”

Mor reached for the bottle on the table, plucking it up and turning it in her hand to read the label.

“Something good and expensive,” she replied, with a half-hearted air of indulgence, before tilting her head at Elain with a faint grin.

“It’s from Rhys’s rather gluttonous collection,” you said, sensing Elain’s hesitation. “It won’t be missed at all.”

She smiled at that. “I’d love some.”

“There are a lot of glasses in that cabinet,” you said, pointing to the wood door with ornate carvings. “Grab whichever one you’d like.”

Mor sat up straighter, scooting herself back into the pillows behind her. You hummed, impressed, at her ability to hold both her full wine glass and the bottle without so much as a wobble.

You hadn’t spent much time with Elain one-on-one. Emissary duties had kept you busy during the years the Archeron sisters had adjusted to their new lives. But you liked Elain, from what you’d seen. She had a kind heart. She also had a sharp humor that surfaced at the oddest moments, usually when she and Lucien were whispering in corners, conspiratorial before seamlessly rejoining whatever social event they were at like they’d never left.

Elain returned and sat down with her chosen glass—a delicate crystal piece that gleamed in the soft light. Mor went to fill it instantly.

“Can I ask why you were discussing Azriel’s romantic life?” Elain asked. Her voice was smooth, certain. No hesitation.

It didn’t faze her anymore, you realized—being such a strange, pivotal turning point in Azriel’s past experiences. She’d made peace with it, the way immortality seemed to demand. Time softened the edges of even the messiest situations, turning them into stories you could recount with startling detachment. Almost humorous, really.

Because how else could you explain being casual about the fact that your best friend had almost allowed his pride—and arrogance—and, somehow simultaneously, his insecurity—to lead him into a blood duel over Elain’s affections? A blood duel.

But now, it was just… something to write off. A distant memory, softened by the years and Lucien’s easy confidence. Lucien was better than you. You would’ve held that grudge against Azriel for many more years—long enough to make it a point of pride. But then again, Lucien had won everything he wanted in the end. He had the girl, the bond, the certainty that whatever lingering rivalry Azriel might feel was entirely one-sided.

It wasn’t important enough for Lucien to waste any more energy on.

You exchanged a glance with Mor, who arched a brow, clearly just as amused by Elain’s openness.

“Y/n doesn’t like his new girlfriend,” Mor said.

Your mouth fell open. “You don’t either.”

“True,” Mor agreed easily. She looked to Elain. “We don’t like her.”

“For clarification,” you said firmly, “I never said I didn’t like her.”

Mor laughed, sipping her wine with an amused grin.

Your face fell flat. “What?”

“Nothing,” she replied breezily. “But if you get a bad feeling about someone, that’s usually dislike.”

You resisted the urge to scowl, already turning over the guilt in your mind. You didn’t want to be that person—the kind who dismissed another female off the bat. Maybe your gut was wrong this time. Maybe her smile had reached her eyes, and you’d been too preoccupied to notice. Maybe her tone hadn’t been as assessing as you remembered, and you were projecting. You wanted to like her. You wanted to be happy for Azriel.

But he didn’t seem happy. He seemed distracted. Busy. Not himself.

And not the kind of busy you’d seen before—the methodical, obsessive focus he funneled into work or training. This was different, scattered in a way you couldn’t quite pin down. It had made sense in the beginning, when things were new and exciting, but now it was starting to feel uncomfortable. He’d started missing things—small things at first, like sparring sessions or those late-night conversations you, Mor, and him would have when you couldn’t sleep. Then came the bigger things. He’d stopped being able to review external court updates with you, even when those meetings were critical for your diplomatic roles.

Azriel had always been the one you could count on. Out of everyone, you considered him your closest friend—even more than Mor, though you’d never admit it out loud. But now it seemed like every time you made plans, Selene needed him more.

And then there was how fast it was all moving. Too fast. At a recent family dinner, she’d casually mentioned that she and Azriel could move in together—offhand, like it was the most obvious next step. Something about leaving the townhouse behind, creating a space with décor that matched her aesthetic. Azriel had just stayed quiet, looked at her like she’d just proposed the most brilliant idea in existence.

You noticed he did that. The way he looked at her. The way he’d looked at Elain and Gwyn back when they were seeing each other. It weirded you out—that tendency to put the people he saw as romantic interests on a pedestal, as though they were flawless. As though they were something he didn’t deserve.

You knew where it came from. That deep-rooted insecurity that even centuries hadn’t managed to erase. He didn’t see it, the way he wore himself down trying to prove his worth to people who, for the most part, had already accepted him. But you saw it. You always had.

And it made it harder to like Selene. To trust her intentions. Maybe that was unfair, but you couldn’t help but feel like she was just taking—taking all the parts of Azriel that used to be all of yours to share, and twisting them into something else. Something that didn’t include his family.

Still, you wanted to try. To let go of the gnawing irritation in your chest and convince yourself it didn’t matter. If she made him happy—truly happy—then none of it should matter. You were adamant on ensuring that you didn’t turn into the stereotypical overbearing female best friend.

Elain tapped her glass lightly. “Lucien doesn’t like her.”

You blinked back into reality. “Really?”

She nodded, a beat passing before she added, “To be honest, I’m not sure I do either.”

Mor leaned forward, grinning like she’d been handed a stack of gold. You almost wished Amren was here to bask in the moment. Amren didn’t like Azriel’s girlfriend, either. Maybe your family really was as unwelcoming as people claimed. Or maybe Selene simply brought out another level of scrutiny. The thought of either option made you feel bad— gross.

“Why?” Mor asked.

“She was dismissive toward Lucien. And,” Elain hesitated, her brow furrowing slightly, “She seemed… entitled, I suppose. Especially with Azriel. Like she expected him to accommodate her every whim.”

You frowned, turning over her words. “I’m sure she was just nervous. We can be an intimidating group. Maybe she just needs time to settle in. We just want Az to be happy, right? So, if she makes him happy, then I’m absolutely fine with her.”

The silence that followed was thick. For a moment, you wondered if you’d said something wrong. Something weird.

“Are you?” Elain asked, her tone sincere.

“Are you?” Mor echoed at the same time, voice dripping with sarcasm.

You shot Mor a glare, but she only raised her brows and sipped her wine again, infuriatingly unbothered. Exhaling, you willed yourself to meet Elain’s gaze.

“I am,” you said, trying for conviction. “Really.”

Elain pursed her lips. Her gaze shifted to Mor, lingering longer than you liked, and then back to you.

“Alright,” she hummed. “I guess I was wrong.”

You stilled. Elain reclined deeper into her seat, accepting a refill from Mor. Her wine glass remained only half-full compared to yours and Mor’s.

Curiosity burned. You leaned forward. “What do you mean?”

Elain furrowed her brows. “What do I mean about what?”

“You said you guess you were wrong. What does that mean?”

Mor’s gaze bored into the side of your face. Any second now, you were sure she’d make some quip about how bothered you were. But you weren’t bothered. Just curious.

Elain swirled her wine, watching the light catch the liquid. “I’m not sure. Things feel off. Like something’s coming. Az needs help with it, I think.”

You froze. “Off? Like—how?”

She hesitated, thoughtful. “It’s hard to explain,” she murmured, her voice quieter now. “But I feel it. In my chest. My visions sometimes do that. That’s why I asked.”

Well, that unsettled you. You glanced at Mor, whose amused grin had fallen into something more contemplative.

It seemed you might need to have a conversation with Azriel after all.

“I don’t like that,” you admitted, your nose crinkling.

“I think I heard him get back earlier. Go talk to him,” Mor said, her tone gentler now, though a hint of mischief lingered in her eyes. You didn’t read too much into that. Mor’s eyes tended to be expressive. She also tended to be mischievous when her blood was primarily red wine.

“Okay,” you said. “Maybe just to check in.”

Elain nodded. “Just to check in,” she echoed, almost reassuring.

“Have fun,” Mor added, her grin returning just enough to be annoying, but not enough to distract you from the unease curling in your chest.

You didn’t respond, instead taking another slow sip of your drink. The glass clinked softly as you set it down on the table before you made your way upstairs.

After a moment of comfortable silence, Mor turned to Elain. “Did you really feel something that unsettling?”

Elain let out a laugh. “No,” she said lightly. “I completely made that up. But she doesn’t need to know that.”

Mor’s lips curled into a slow, wicked smile. Seconds later, her head tilted back in a laugh just as vibrant as it was unapologetic.

“Genius,” she declared, raising her glass in mock salute.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

The walk upstairs was quiet.

The townhome, in general, was quieter nowadays. Aside from the times others came to visit—like Lucien and Elain—only you and Azriel lived here full time.

When you reached Azriel’s bedroom door, your steps faltered for a moment. There was a hesitation in you that hadn't existed before. You raised your hand to knock, but the action felt more awkward than usual. It made you sad, momentarily, that you hesitated. You never second-guessed yourself with Azriel. You wanted to tread carefully in this new era of his life, though. You didn’t want to overstep, to become a nuisance. But whatever this was—whatever had unsettled Elain enough to mention it—you needed to know. Azriel had always been a constant for you, and if something felt “off,” you wanted to understand why.

Your knuckles rapped lightly on the door. “Az?”

Inside, you heard the shuffle of movement, followed by his low, familiar voice. “Come in.”

You didn’t see Azriel immediately, but the smell of soap and the damp air told you that he recently showered. Shadows slithered across the floor, comfortable and excited, exploring the familiar confines of his room.

You greeted the tendrils as you usually did, letting them brush against your legs as you flopped onto his bed. The bed, like everything else in his room, was simple: plain black sheets, no extravagant pillows, just the bare necessities. It used to drive you mad, the emptiness of it all. But what was in his room spoke volumes—— bare walls except for a dagger mount on one side, a small uncluttered desk with a well-worn sharpening stone.

Azriel exiting the bathroom pulled your attention, your eyes settling on him as he rubbed his wet hair thoroughly with a towel. He shook his head slightly, wet curls bouncing onto his forehead, and met your gaze. His eyes flicked to where you lay, scanning your body. He nodded toward your feet.

“C’mon,” he almost whined. “No shoes on the bed.”

You looked down at yourself, grimacing as you realized that your shoes were, indeed, on his clean comforter. A simple set of house slippers, so nothing entirely too dirty, but it had completely slipped your mind. Very comfortable shoes, you noted, maybe you’d get Feyre a pair as a solstice gift.

“Oh whoops,” you said with an apologetic smile. “My bad, clean freak.”

He rolled his eyes, but you caught the quirk of his lips anyways.

For a moment, the old sense of comfort settled over you. But then, a thought crept in—the thought that maybe you shouldn’t lie on his bed like this anymore. It had been fine before, but now… now it felt different. He had someone else in his life. It wasn’t weird, exactly, but it was a little inappropriate.

You sat up straighter.

“Did you and Mor grow tired of rehashing the same centuries old gossip?” He teased.

You snorted, watching as his shadows flitted above his shoulders. They were amused, laughing in their own way. “Never,” you responded, pushing yourself off his bed. You were drawn to the otherside of his room, to the simple dresser against the wall. “Elain joined us this time.”

Your back was to him, but you had a feeling that the momentary silence, the stillness that you felt, was a knee-jerk reaction from Azriel—something reminiscent of embarrassment, shame, or guilt at her name. But all he responded was, “Oh?”

“I like her,” you said, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I kinda wish I spent more time with her…”

You paused, your words trailing off quietly as you took in the small details before you.

Azriel’s dresser had always been the one surface he decorated, not because he cared for decoration, but because it was the only surface large enough to hold anything. Over the years, it had become a quiet testament to the things that mattered to him: a mix of Solstice and birthday gifts, trinkets you’d both collected on missions and trips. You liked seeing what had changed, what had been added. It gave you a glimpse into where Azriel had been, who had been with him.

Lately, there had been more—more trinkets, more oddities that stood in stark contrast to the weapons displayed elsewhere, the ones mostly hidden away in his closet. A macaroni necklace from Nyx. A horribly made clay version of him you’d created during a drunken pottery night with Feyre, Mor, and Amren.

But now, the dresser was foreign. The once familiar surface had been wiped clean, replaced by delicate perfume bottles, jewelry that looked too fine to be his, and a candle that smelled—oddly—like the puke of a flower faerie. Some of it was new. Most of it was hers.

Azriel’s presence had vanished from his own furniture entirely.

“Huh.”

“What?” Azriel asked.

You glanced over your shoulder. “I see you’ve decorated more.”

Azriel tilted his head, and a few of his shadows slithered down his body, crossing the room to pool around your ankles. “I guess,” he said. “Selene said my room needed more life.”

You leaned forward, brushing your fingers along the ceramic jewelry dish, the cool surface sending a strange chill through your skin. The shadows flickered over your hand, almost as if they were inspecting it too. They moved with purpose, then slowly obscured it, hiding it from view.

You frowned, confused.

Azriel, still silent, was rifling through his closet. You could feel the weight of his eyes on you as he moved, but he said nothing. The shadows returned to his side as you turned to look at him.

"Are you going somewhere?" you asked, trying to break the silence.

Now, Azriel barely spared you a glance.

“Yeah. Meeting Selene,” he replied simply.

After a few seconds of silence, Azriel turned his head and properly held your gaze. “Why? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you responded with a casual wave of your hand, but Elain’s words echoed in your mind. You cleared your throat. “Well, actually, no. I was hoping I could talk to you.”

He frowned, standing up straighter, his wings flexing with the motion. “Is it something serious?”

You paused, carefully filtering through your words. “No, just something that’s been on my mind.”

Azriel studied you, doubt flickering in his hazel eyes. It was the kind of look that always made you feel like he was reading you too easily. He probably didn’t believe you, not entirely—but he nodded anyway. His lips curved into a small, apologetic smile. “Raincheck then?”

You mirrored his smile, though it felt thin. “Yeah, sure. We can talk tomorrow, once we’re back from the Hewn City.”

Azriel stilled. The way his gaze dropped to the floor and lingered felt like a guilty dog, an animal caught in an act forbidden. “Shit,” he said, his tone cautious. “I can’t go.”

You blinked, the words taking a moment to settle. “Seriously? Az, Rhys is expecting an update.”

“I’m sorry.” He sounded sincere enough. It didn’t matter. “But you can handle it on your own, you know this.”

“Are you serious?” you said, the hurt slipping out before you could stop it. “I don’t want to deal with Keir alone.”

Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’ll talk to Rhys, but Selene’s been wanting to—”

“Never mind,” you cut him off, shaking your head. You forced a smile. “Have fun tonight. And tomorrow.”

Azriel scanned your face. After another moment of silence, he sighed.

“Okay, what is it?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “You clearly have something on your mind. Tell me.”

You hesitated, holding his gaze. “I actually wanted to talk to you about Selene.”

Azriel’s jaw tightened instantly. He looked away, his tongue running across his teeth as he shook his head. “Not you too. Don’t be like this.”

Your frown deepened, offended by the immediate shift in tone. “Be like what? I haven’t even said anything yet.”

He met your eyes again, his stare almost challenging. “We both know what you’re going to say.”

“Do we?”

“First Mor, then Nesta, and now you.” His voice was sharp, but not loud. “Should I be concerned that the females in my life are so quick to rally against my girlfriend?”

You scoffed, crossing your arms to mirror his pose. “Well, yeah, Az. Maybe you should be.”

He rolled his eyes, the shadows at his feet flickering with the motion. “Fine. What do you want to tell me, then?”

For a moment, you hesitated, the words lingering on the edge of your tongue. Azriel had always been good at looking through you, unraveling thoughts you hadn’t fully formed yet. And now, under the weight of his sharp gaze, you felt exposed.

“I just want to make sure you’re happy.”

Something flickered in his expression, quick and fleeting—too fast for you to decipher. For the first time in a long while, Azriel felt unreadable, like he’d drawn a curtain between himself and you. “Really?” he asked, his tone tight, almost incredulous.

You faltered, a small thread of doubt weaving its way through your resolve. Was he happy? Would he even tell you if he wasn’t?

“Yes, really,” you replied, a defensive edge creeping into your voice. “You’ve been distant lately. Running around at her beck and call. None of us know her. I want to understand what’s going on with you. I want to understand her.”

Azriel’s wings shifted again, his gaze hardening.

“I want to make sure this is the kind of relationship you want,” you finished, quieter now.

The room fell into silence, heavy and still. Azriel watched you as if he was turning your words over and over in his mind. You waited, unsure of what to expect—if anything at all.

“I wouldn’t be in a relationship I didn’t want. Can we drop it, please.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. What a strange, dismissive answer. It bothered you— bothered you more than anything he’d ever told you before.

“Az, I just don’t want you to change who you are for someone. You don’t need to cater to her every whim.”

His expression darkened, shadows curling tighter around his boots. “I’m her boyfriend. I do what she asks.”

You raised an eyebrow, unable to stop the scoff that slipped out. Azriel had never been so clipped with you. “That’s not the definition of a boyfriend. That’s the definition of a bitch.”

Azriel’s jaw clenched, his wings flaring in irritation. “Excuse me?” His voice cut through the room. “Do you really think I’m some incompetent love-sick loser?”

“I think you stop seeing flaws in the people you love.”

The words hung between you, heavier than you’d anticipated. A small part of you wondered if “love” was the word Azriel would use to describe his feelings for her. Another part worried that he didn’t correct you.

“That’s not true.”

“It’s not?”

“No,” he snapped. “I can clearly see that you’re being unfair. Quick to judge, much like Mor. That’s a flaw.”

“Oh, please,” you shot back, “You know what I meant. The people you’re infatuated with—”

“Where is this sudden concern coming from?” he interrupted, his shadows now beginning to curl between you like restless mediators, unsure where to settle. “Are you trying to cause issues?”

Something ran hot through your body.

“Seriously? I’m talking to you about this because I care. Because Elain had some cryptic feeling about you—”

“Elain is involved in this conversation, too?” His voice dripped with frustration now. “Gods, Y/n, should I send word for Gwyn while we’re at it? Get her opinion?”

“What the hell has gotten into you?” You took an authoritative step forward. “I’ve never judged you. I’ve always tried to support you and your messy love life, no matter how complicated. Don’t you trust me, Azriel? As a friend?”

Azriel didn’t respond immediately, his shadows flickering uncertainly, still deciding whether to retreat or rise.

You gestured around the room. “Look at this place. You’ve erased all traces of your family—of you, of us. Where did you even put—”

“Oh, gods.” Azriel’s voice broke through, and for a moment, you thought he might crumble. His wings folded, and his hand dragged across his face, the weight of his exhaustion sinking in. “She was right.”

You froze. “What?”

Azriel met your gaze, his eyes hesitant for a heartbeat before turning sharp. “About you. Selene said you were jealous. That you had feelings for me.”

The words hit like a slap, and your world tilted on its axis. “What?” you asked again, your voice breaking on the word. Maybe you had misheard him. Maybe he had misspoken.

“I told her she was wrong. But now…” He let the sentence hang in the air, searching your face for something that maybe wasn’t even there.

“Now, what?” Your voice rose, tinged with anger. “You think I’m here because I’m jealous? Because I have some… crush on you?”

His wings flared slightly at your tone, but he didn’t back down. “I don’t know. It’s just—why else would you care so much about this?”

Your stomach twisted, a deep, cold ache settling there. “Why else?” you repeated, the words bitter on your tongue. “Because I care about you, Azriel. Because you’ve been my friend for centuries. Are you seriously confused about this?”

For a moment, Azriel’s expression faltered, but he didn’t apologize. Instead, he said, “I didn’t ask you to care about my love life.”

“You didn’t have to,” you snapped, stepping closer. “That’s what friends do. But you’re standing there, letting her perception of me—someone who doesn’t even know me—warp your judgment. You’ve known me longer than that. Or at least, I thought you did. And the fact that you’d entertain this—” You stopped, shaking your head. “It’s insulting.”

Azriel said nothing. He just stood there, shadows now curling tighter around him.

You had no idea how this conversation had gotten away from you, no idea how it turned into this—where this defensiveness, this anger, had come from. This wasn’t Azriel. Loyal, overly so. Impulsive. Protective.

Or maybe it was. Maybe that loyalty was directed at someone else now—someone who clearly saw you as something threatening. You’d never been on the other side of Azriel before. Never thought you’d see the day. The realization hit like a slap to the face, leaving you shocked, stunned, a pit opening in your stomach that felt too deep to climb out of.

“You know what? Forget it.” You stepped back, the fight draining out of you all at once.

Azriel’s brows furrowed. “Really? That’s it?”

You glanced at him over your shoulder, your lips curving into something that might have been a smile if it weren’t so bitter. “Yeah,” you said, your voice flat. “That’s it.”

You turned for the door, hand on the handle, but paused. The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them, sharp and pointed, a petty jab that felt equal parts satisfying and hollow. “Make sure to lock this door when you leave—I’d hate to accidentally stumble back in and throw myself at you.”

Azriel stiffened, his wings snapping taut behind him. For a brief second, you thought he might say something, anything. But he didn’t.

You closed the door behind you with a heavy thud.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

authors note: no one tell them they probs have feelings for each other bc they’ll probably fight you (also elains moment is so self indulgent bc i would totally be making shit up based off my powers. like yeah actually you can’t be mean to be :/ powers are saying you’ll die if you are)

Part Two

permanent tag list 🫶🏻:

@rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon

@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg

@evergreenlark @marina468 @azriels-human @book-obsessed124 @bubybubsters

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @feyretopia @ninthcircleofprythian @velariscalling @azrielrot

@justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli @mrsjna @anarchiii @alittlelostalittlefound

@melissat1254

@secretsicanthideanymore

@m4tthewmurd0ck @beardburnsupersoldiers @isnotwhatyourethinking @tothestarsandwhateverend @raginghellfire

@angel-graces-world-of-chaos @acoazlove @paradisebabey @inkedinshadows

azriel tag list 🫶🏻:@thisiskaylin @serrendiipty @acourtofsteelandthunder @mortqlprojections @ushijima-stits @honethatty12

3K notes · View notes

mostly-imagines · 3 months ago

Text

Motion Sickness

jason todd x fem!reader

aka jason makes you cry after a fight

warnings: angst with comfort

“Jason—”

He waves you off immediately, “No, I’m not your problem, okay?”

Your arms drop, “You’re not a problem at all, that’s not what I’m saying—”

“Then what are you saying?” he challenges.

You almost bite your tongue but then decide against it, “I’m saying you’re being an asshole right now just because I tried to help.”

He’s angry and you’re someplace in between desperate and tired, but you push on, hoping you’ll be able to solve this without an extended argument. To little avail though, apparently.

A tense exhale from him, “I don’t need your help, I don’t know how I can make it any clearer.”

“It’s not about needing it—”

“No, it’s about wanting it. I don’t want your fucking help,” he snaps. “I’m grown, I can handle my problems myself.”

You drop your hands to your sides, “Then what am I doing here, Jason?”

“I don’t know!” You can literally see the regret sweep over his face but he lets the moment consume him and the words linger anyways.

You know he doesn’t always think before he talks, especially when he’s mad. You’ve seen it plenty when he’s fighting with his family. This is the first time it’s shown up with you though, and while you know it’s not coming from a place of genuinity—it still really fucking stung.

Far from being in your control, tears slip out, more at his tone than his words, and you remove your gaze in favor of the linoleum tiles. He says nothing as you start to cry, which only makes the heat of the moment worsen.

“Okay,” You take a deep breath, pursing your lips. “You need to go away.”

There’s a long, hard moment of silence, but ultimately he doesn’t fight you on it, only exhales harshly and slams the door on his way out.

The resulting reverberation of the apartment has your shoulders shaking, tears falling onto your shirt.

You and Jason don’t fight often but when you do it’s usually about insecurities and fears coming forward. He’d been having a bad night to start with and all you wanted to do was make him feel better but he wasn’t willing to talk to you or let you do anything for him. He gets selfishly selfless like that, but you know why.

You know him, in and out. You could’ve anticipated this—you should’ve. You should’ve approached the topic more sensitively. And it’s not his fault, his life has taught him that it’s safer to believe that other people don’t have his best interest. You know that.

Yeah, you know him in and out, but he knows you in and out, too. He knows you’ve shown him nothing but kindness and generosity since the day you met and you’ve reinforced a thousand times how safe you are for him. But if he still can’t trust you to care about him, then what are you doing here?

You let yourself fall back onto the arm of the couch, huffing in defeat.

It’s nearing two in the morning when Dick awakens, the bandages across his abdomen digging into his skin uncomfortably. He sits up, bedsheet pooling around his waist. The ache of the bruising pushes him towards his old bedroom door before he’s even fully coherent, narrowly missing shouldering the door frame as he passes through.

He’s still half asleep as he thumps down the staircase, cold hands stuffed in the pocket of his sweatshirt. He’s so out of it in his blind search for painkillers, that he nearly misses the large shadowed figure huddled up on the couch.

Dick stills, blinking warily.

“What’re you doing here?”

His younger brother says nothing, only continues to stew in the shadows, staring at the rug.

As his eyes adjust, Dick takes in his appearance: messy hair, tired eyes, only clad in a t-shirt and sweatpants.

He rubs his eyes, approaching with measured steps, “What happened?”

Jason remains silent for a long minute before grunting out, “Got in a fight.”

Dick nods slowly, shuffling forward a little more to sit on the far end of the couch.

“What’d you do?”

Jason doesn’t have it in him to comment on how his brother immediately knew he was the issue. It just makes the entire thing hurt even worse. Instead, he tells the truth.

“Be myself.”

Dick says nothing,

When the silence persists, Jason elaborates, even though it’s the last thing he wants to admit to.

“I made her cry,” he says, voice below even a whisper. He hates it and he hates himself for leaving you when he knew he’d hurt you.

Dick nods, not saying anything. He’s definitely been there before, though he’s not nearly as volatile as Jason can be, so he can imagine how this likely played out. In any case, Jason has never responded well to being pushed to talk about his feelings so Dick lets him get there in his own time.

He’s half expecting to end up with no results at all, but Jason pipes up after a minute, voice broken.

“I don’t know what she wants me to do,” he rasps.

Dick takes a deep breath, adjusting his posture. “When girls are mad you give them space but when they’re sad you definitely don’t. Is she sad or mad?”

Jason exhales desperately.

“Both, I think.”

Dick nods, understanding.

“Then go home.”

Jason shakes his head, defeated. “She told me to leave. She doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“What did you say?”

He huffs, not wanting to bring the memory back up. “I basically told her to fuck off.”

“Yeah,” Dick drawls. “I wouldn’t let that simmer.”

Jason’s head snaps over to him. “She’ll break up with me?”

“No, I don’t—” Dick pauses, thinking over his words. “It’ll be fine. Just go home.”

Despite taking the long route on the way to the manor, Jason sped back home on his bike, now unwilling to leave you alone for another second longer than he had to.

He creeps through the front door of your apartment, proud and only a little hurt that you’d remembered to lock it.

The apartment’s mostly quiet, nothing but a lamp lighting up the front half. He can hear the shower running from where he stands, the waterfall noise awfully muffled from behind the closed bathroom door.

He bolts the door behind him, pushing forward towards the hallway. He approaches the bathroom door, noticing how there’s no light flooding out from underneath.

“Baby?” Jason calls it out quietly, like he’s scared to commit to alerting you of his presence.

He hears no response, but he knows you heard him. He knows you heard him in the same way that he knows you’re sitting on the shower floor, curled in on yourself under the sensory relief that the pouring water brings. He doesn’t know how, he just does.

So he leans against the door, listening closely, and calls out again, “Can I come in?”

There’s a solid ten seconds of silence before you respond, just barely audible over the cascade of water.

“Not right now.”

Your volume has him wincing, saddened and embarrassed that he’s the one that made you feel like this.

He reluctantly walks back to the bedroom with heavy shoulders, thudding his weight down on the mattress. He sits half folded over himself for the next ten minutes, thinking only of you, sitting alone in the shower with your thoughts.

He perks up considerably when he hears the water shut off, and after several long minutes, you emerge from the bathroom, towel wrapped around your middle.

He stands up when you enter the bedroom, hands stiff and awkward at his sides. You barely look at him, having trouble willing yourself to do more than glance.

Your eyes fall downward, your lips pursing. You instinctually move to clutching the towel tighter around you, more than anything because you don’t know what to do with your hands.

It makes his heart break to see you so out of comfort around him—because of him—so he gives you the benefit of privacy, turning around so you can get dressed. It kills him to do it, makes him feel like he’s just some stranger in your life rather than him. But he supposes that he deserves to feel like that right now.

Whether or not you wanted him to turn around goes unsaid, he can only hear the quiet shuffling of you putting clothes on.

He waits until the movement stops, after he hears the squeak of the bed springs and the faint sound of the sheets being pulled up.

He turns around again with a silent sigh, taking in the sight of you laying in bed, back turned to him.

He approaches slowly, stopping just before his knees hit the mattress. He notices quickly that the t-shirt you’d chosen was one of your own. He frowns.

“Sweetheart. Can I touch you?” His voice is soft and low, like he’s trying to coax you back out to him.

It takes a long few moments, but you nod.

He sits down on the bed, still hesitant to go through with it.

“Will you turn over?”

An even longer pause and you’re flipping over to face him. You don’t make eye contact, only look blankly past him. Your blinks are heavy, and even in the dark, he can see that your eyes are still bloodshot.

He brushes your hair back, his fingers feather-light against you, like he’s scared to touch you too harshly. Like he’s touching porcelain.

He lets you hold the silence for a while, reasoning with himself that you’ll talk when you’re ready.

You let it go on longer than he’d hoped, past the point of him knowing what to do with it. He’d hoped you’d yell at him. He can take that, he knows he can. He can see plainly that you’re thinking deeply and wants more than anything for you to say it, scream it if you have to.

He knows he deserves it and he frankly would take anything over the silence. But then again, he doesn’t deserve the reprieve, does he? No, but he’s not strong enough to deny himself the chance to hear your voice.

“Say it,” he urges. “Please.”

Your fingers tap against the bed sheets for a moment before you sit up, almost defeated.

You face him, taking a breath and relenting. “I don’t like that you said that to me.”

He nods, brow deep. “Me neither.”

Your shoulders sag at that, and you feel stuck in the moment. You feel guilty too but you don’t know if you should. He didn’t mean it, you know that, and they weren’t his words, really. But the snap of his voice when he’d said it and the look on his face—it made you feel terrible. It still does.

You look awkwardly to the left, feeling heavily spectated by him and so hyper-conscious of all of your movements. The downturn of your lips gives way to burning in your eyes and before you can do anything about it, tears are spilling out.

Jason sees it immediately, his head lulling helplessly.

“Oh, baby. Please don’t cry, please.”

But that only makes it worse, the tears falling faster and heavier at his soft tone.

He forgoes asking permission and pulls you directly into his chest, a firm hand on the back of your head. It’s what you needed though, to be close to him right now.

“I’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry, baby—” he murmurs against your hair, pressing a rough kiss as he holds you tighter.

You shake your head, sniffling. “It’s okay, Jay.”

“No, it’s not.”

That sentiment lingers for several minutes, as he holds you cheek to chest and rubs soothing patterns into your hair.

It’s not long before you’re able to fully relax against him, his touch feeling nothing short of therapeutic. Your breathing eventually levels out back to baseline and your thoughts start to find peace amongst themselves.

When you’re ready, you sit back from him, letting him see your face again.

He visibly winces as he scans over the tears on your cheeks, how they’re starting to stain.

You’re still upset, a little, but not nearly as much as you’re sure your face is conveying.

“It’s okay,” you tell him, wiping your eyes with your sleeve.

He shakes his head, “If I ever say something like that to you again, hit me. I’m serious.”

You drop your hand onto your lap, tilting your head at him with a serious look. “I’m not going to hit you—”

“Then break up with me. Don’t ever let somebody talk to you like that, especially not me.”

His voice is hard and you can tell the impact of his words have every bit of weight intended.

Your mouth closes and you waver unsure of where to go with that. Your gaze falls down to where your hands lie discarded on your lap and there’s a palpable shift to the air in the room.

“Hey.” He pushes your chin up to make you look at him, “Listen to me. You’re the love of my life. You hear me? I’m supposed to take care of you, make you happy. I don’t…I can’t talk to you like that. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.”

Your eyes flicker back and forth across each others and you can see the genuine sincerity etched plainly across his face.

He processes the comprehension across your own before his jaw tenses for a moment and he adds, “Nobody’s gonna talk to you like that, much less me. Yes?”

You start to nod slowly and he mirrors you until he’s convinced of your belief in the statement.

He rubs calm circles into your thighs as you both sit with the conversation, the light sounds of each others breaths the only sound heard. This silence isn’t the same as it was before though, it’s safer, more comfortable. It’s familiar, if not weighted.

“I love you,” you tell him quietly.

His eyebrows furrow like his heart was just shattered.

“I love you too, baby. So much.”

🦟 if you don't reblog things i'm actively sending bad vibes your way 🦟 and maybe also a plague

5K notes · View notes

kurooh · 14 days ago

Text

★ MAKE HER TAPOUT ! — JUJUTSU KAISEN

⊹₊˚. featuring gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, ino takuma, fushiguro toji, & kamo choso fucking you till one of you gives out, or not!

warnings: 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, creampies, gentle choking, cunnilingus, facesitting, backshots, overstimulation, jet sex, dirty talk, talking him thru it (ino), brief edging, filming.

xoxo, juno: SHES BACKKK 😝

GOJO SATORU # neither, it’s a competition

“aw, sweetheart,” satoru reaches up to thumb away an involuntary tear from your cheek, “you cryin’?”

“no,” you sniffle, and the shake of your voice betrays you. “o-of course not, satoru.”

mirth sparkles in his diamond blue eyes and he hums contentedly, as if he’s pretending to believe you. but of course he is—right now, he has to.

god, you were dumb enough to challenge him once he’d riled you up, and now you’re paying the price. a persistent burn courses through the muscles of your thighs, the exhaustion more than palpable now that you’ve been bouncing on his dick for so long. a messy puddle of cum has pooled around the base of his cock and sticks to your skin each time you sink down, serving as a constant reminder of how long it’s been.

normally, satoru would laugh in your face, then help you fuck him, but he’s choosing to be quiet because seeing you struggle is even more entertaining.

“you don’t have to lie, baby,” he squeezes your hips, allowing his eyes to trace the curves and slopes of your body, to commit them to his long term memory. “y’know, i love watching you ride me. it’s just . . oh, never mind.”

aggressively, you wipe the sweat from your forehead and glare down at him with dewy eyes. even when you’re crumbling into pieces, you manage to remain angry at him. “say it, satoru.”

an irritating smile splits across his face and he bounces his hips up just as you move down, just to punch a gasp out of your lungs. “‘s just that you were so fast earlier, now it seems like you’re struggling after all that talk.”

his cheeks are scarlet and growing darker as something triumphant basks him in its glow. you push at his chest and grind on him more insistently, even though the stimulation feels like bolts of electricity on your sensitive clit. “f-fine, is that what you want? for me to prove myself?”

“maybe.”

satoru watches smugly as you up the pace of your hips, repeatedly slamming down on his cock until you’re ready to give up. he grabs at your soft tits, and pinches at your perked nipples meanly, enjoying the way your cunt spasms around him.

a few tears race down your cheeks, and you glare weakly at him, not yet ready to admit defeat.

“my girl’s so pretty,” satoru whispers, harsh as he rolls your tender nipples between his fingers, “doesn’t she know when it’s time to give up?”

“shut up,” you groan, lower lip wobbling pathetically. this struggling is a hundred times better than being pressed into the mattress and fucked senselessly. “just be quiet, toru, stop running your mouth.”

“me? running my mouth?” he sounds taken aback, mouth agape as he regards you with a offended expression that settles across his flushed features. “sweetheart, please. look at you—”

not too firmly, you wrap your hands around his throat. just the sight has a new kind of arousal flaring inside your body, one that makes your clit feel incredibly sensitive after a single grind of it into his pelvis.

“you’re talking too much,” you hum, voice a little singsongy now that the tables have been turned, “can’t you just let me have this?”

satoru quirks an eyebrow, still challenging you despite blushing darker. “y-you’ve got some serious nerve,” he pants, voice coming out weaker than he’d like it to, “just fuckin’ wait—”

now it’s your turn to rile him up. “whatever,” you roll your eyes, the tips of your nails lightly digging into his soft skin. “maybe if you shut your mouth, i could let you go.”

“oh, you know that’ll never happen,” satoru scoffs quickly, almost as if he doesn’t want you to let go just yet. “you just focus on showin’ me what you’re made of. if you can.”

GETO SUGURU # you ‘tap’ out

when you’d invited geto to make a guest cameo on your onlyfans, you didn’t expect him to pull out all the stops to show you off . .

you wail pathetically, each and every one of your limbs feeling like jelly now. the consistent smacks of his hips into your ass bounces off the walls and only adds to the cacophony in the room—suguru has practically destroyed your pussy, his thick cock reducing it into a wet mess that squeezes him involuntarily whenever he makes noise.

“shit,” his chest heaves behind you, and he flicks his bangs away from his eyes to squint at your phone, “don’t cha look so pretty with me inside, sweetheart? come on, don’t make me lift you up.”

weakly, with as much strength as you can muster, you raise your head to blearily look at your phone screen. it’s constantly lighting up with new, colorful messages in the stream and rather generous donations—suguru has helped you pull in hundreds more than a solo live would’ve.

-> kchomo: she’s beautiful!

-> tfushoji: pussy made of steel

“s-sugu, ah—‘m still a little sensitive,” you struggle to gasp out, each deliberate plunge of his cock punching the words out of you. before you look into your reflection to confirm your suspicions, you already know he’s got a smug smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“that’s even better,” he coos, smacking your ass and slipping his hands beneath your hips. “i’m sure everyone’s, ngh, enjoying the show . . but god, who wouldn’t, especially with a face ‘n body like that?”

suguru groans as he drags you up, positioning you to take his cock at an impossibly deeper angle. you choke on your own drool, hands slipping off of the floor as he moves you however he pleases.

“p-put me down!” you squeak awkwardly, feeling previous loads of cum race down your inner thighs in creamy rivulets, “what’re you—”

“jus’ giving them one last show before it’s time for me to take a bow,” his pierced tongue darts out to lick the sweat glistening at his cupid’s bow. “think you can take it? again?”

it’s more of a challenge rather than a request.

even though you’re spent and dizzy from the scent of sex as well as the feel of it, you’re ready to push through. after all, how long has it been since you’ve ever been fucked this good?

“bring it on, suguru,” and you don’t regret it for a second, until his nails claw at your skin when he steadies himself inside you, gearing up to go out with a bang.

“that’s my girl,” your eyes roll back into your head when he develops a pace right out of the gates, all too eager for someone who’s covered your back in cum more than a few times. “fuck, she’s so good. takes a fuckin’ dick like it’s nobody’s business.”

“‘m supposed to—oh my god, right there—be a pro..professional.”

a professional pornstar? more like a fancier way of saying you’re a hungry slut—but suguru doesn’t give a damn, not when you’re sucking him deeper and throbbing around him, almost synced up with the frantic pounding of his heart.

“riiight there, huh?” he can’t help but tease, voice taking on a mocking tone that seems to make the room burn a few degrees hotter, “is this where you want me, sweetheart? all up in this pretty lil tummy?”

oh, he even splays his fingers across your stomach and digs his heel into the soft spot above your pelvis, a move he’d familiarized himself with after combing through your account. for lack of a well formed verbal response, you nod your head, lips parting around breathless moans and pleas. “fuck yes, sugu. i need it, i need more.”

wispy black hairs cling to his forehead, held in place by sweat instead of their usual tight bun. since he’d stepped into your room and greeted your audience, suguru had become quite disheveled, and the thought of complaining never crossed his mind. no, he’d been too lost in you, his longtime porn crush whose page he checked almost daily—he feels his eyes squeeze shut when you cry out his name so loudly your throat will be sore tomorrow.

“oh god, suguru,” you’re entirely limp in his grasp and powerless to the wet squelches of your cunt as he rearranges your insides, “i think i’m gonna fuckin’ cum soon, ‘m so close.”

-> satojo: HELL YES

-> brattybunnny: the way he holds her >>

-> juiceboxbussy: im crying they’re so hot

ecstasy shoots through your veins like electricity, and suguru’s ability to hold back crumbles into nothing when you start to throw your ass back onto him. it’s something that derails the pace he’s set and the plans he had, but you deserve to be spoiled. honestly, after this live, you’ll definitely be inviting him on more often.

like a boat’s propellers, your feet kick out into the air and your toes curl as the tsunami wave of it all starts to crash over you. “i’m—sugu, ‘m gonna fucking cum!”

“all over my cock, baby,” suguru groans, too lost in your pussy to feel the beads of sweat racing down his temples or the burn of exhaustion settling into his muscles, “let—let me feel it.”

so you do, abruptly creaming all over his cock with an obscene whine that tears out of your throat and blesses the ears of every member of the audience. he’s finally able to let go as you’re coming down, pulsing cunt milking him of every drop he can possibly offer.

suguru nearly collapses on top of you once his empty balls clench, but you’re already struggling to hold yourself up without his help. the donations are much more luxurious now that the audience can get better views of your blissed out face and his matching reddened expression.

“let’s start saying goodbye,” he suggests, wincing as he pulls out of you. the air is hot, but it feels like the arctic outside of you—well, at least he can watch the deluge of cum spill out from between your thighs. you’ll be leaking for hours, and some kind of nasty pride swells in his chest at the thought of it. “honey, c’mon. gotta get cleaned up.”

-> satojo donated $150

-> thukuna donated $200 and said: js busted a nut

-> brattybunnny: i know that dick was good asf

-> juiceboxbussy: girl she’s knocked out 😭

NANAMI KENTO # you tap out

“ken,” you gasp just as the thud of a loaded suitcase resonates through the entire jet. the flight crew’s busy loading up what’s supposed to be an empty corporate jet, while kento’s associates busy themselves with odd tasks he’s doled out to them. “but the seats—”

“can be replaced,” he huffs irritably, not liking the fact that you’re busying yourself with pointless worrying over the seats. “sit down, honey.”

“i know that,” nervously, you glance toward the front of the jet, scanning your surroundings to make sure nobody’s coming in. “i, um, don’t want to make a mess before everyone comes in. i mean, what if you get fired because of it?”

as you ramble, you’re unconsciously pulling away from your seat on his face. kento’s gold wedding band catches the light of the sun as he immediately grabs your thighs, yanking you back where he wants you. his patience is wearing thin and if you don’t sit on his face right now, god help him—he’ll start thinking about devouring you in front of his co-workers.

“ah! kento, i don’t think this is a—” you’re powerless now; with his strong arms locked around your legs, there’s no way you can escape. it’s so risky, so dangerous—but the fear quickly boils into arousal that pools like magma in your belly.

happily suffocating beneath you, kento can’t help but smile when he starts to slurp at your messy cunt. it’s obscene, the noises he makes—smacking his lips like he just can’t get enough, grunting as that familiar sweetness settles on his tongue.

your breath hitches in your throat. “k-kennn, baby, you feel so good—but, oh, we don’t have a lot of time.”

for one painful moment, he lifts you up and stares at you with nothing but hunger in his eyes. “remind me about that one more time,” low and menacing, the sound of his voice makes your pussy squeeze in anticipation. “let me enjoy my meal in peace, honey.”

with that, kento firmly sits you on his face once more, and resumes his impatient lapping. his tongue is both soft and rough, forcing a stream of uncontrollable moans out of you. his nose presses into your clit and makes every sensation hit you harder, leaving you a hot mess atop his face.

“move those hips for me,” he lets out a muffled groan, and his eyes roll back once he feels you comply. desperate as ever, you start to rock your hips into him at an unsteady pace—the shaking and trembling of your body throws you off course.

“ngh, like this?” kento’s ears seem to perk once he detects that current of hesitancy in your voice. it’s so cute, the way you’re seeking his praise; his cock twitches in his pants, buried under layers of fabric.

“just like that, angel,” he gasps for breath before going back in—this time, kento starts to sloppily make out with your pussy. his tongue pushes inside and flicks around, experimentally going deeper while he kisses at your folds.

“oh my god,” the words are a euphoric exclamation, the kind that comes before an earth shattering orgasm—but then it suddenly switches into panic. “oh my god, kento! y-you’ve gotta stop now, your co-workers, they’re—fuck, they just got here!”

kento’s never been one to allow himself to be rushed. your orgasm, you falling apart on his face—it is much more important than his damn co-workers. he’s made you cum fast before and he can do it again. despite your thrashing, he holds you down against him and amps everything up until you start to sob out his name, choking on each syllable.

“they’re gonna get on the plane,” you sniffle, finally accepting your fate. the leather seats will be soaking wet by the time everyone boards, but there’s nothing else you can do but cum. “ken, ‘m really getting close, ngh.”

you nearly lock eyes with one of his coworkers when all your muscles pull taut and bliss bursts out like fireworks in your body. oh, and out of it too—before you can register what’s going on, cum gushes from your pussy and squirts like rain all over his face. of course, kento drinks in every drop, careful not to waste even one.

your jaw’s hanging open as he licks you straight through your high, greedy as ever so he can purposefully make you squeal. kento’s grip on you loosens and he smirks when you scramble off of him, squeezing your thighs together as your body heaves for breath.

“oh, look at that,” he cheerfully glances down at the leather seats, “you didn’t get anything wet, sweetheart.” except for him, of course.

then, out the window. “those aren’t my coworkers, angel. they’re marshals to guide the jet,” slowly, he turns toward you, eyeing your sticky thighs—rather, what’s between them. “no need to quit so soon, hm? tell me what you want.”

INO TAKUMA # he ultimately taps out

takuma’s more than lost in your pussy—he’s too far in to pull out even if he tried. it always happens so fast, too; from the moment you put it in he nearly goes cross-eyed and tries to think of anything that could help him not to cum. it’s so difficult, though, especially when you’re purposefully squeezing down on him and using your oh so soft hands to urge him closer.

he’s done for.

“takuma, are you—ah—are you okay?” before he could realize what was happening, takuma had instinctively begun to jackhammer his hips into yours. “oh my—mmm, you’re fucking me so well.”

“yeah?” he pants out, fingers scrabbling at your ankle to pull you closer, “g-give yourself some credit too, baby, you’re the one taking it like you were made to.”

it’s just how he is, always stuttering back a compliment whenever you talk to him. a breathy chuckle passes through your lips and is immediately followed by a saccharine moan of his name, a sound that echoes in his head and shoots straight to his twitching dick.

“it’s so hard,” he gasps, feeling an inevitable tingle in his nose and behind his eyes, “so hard to keep it together when you’re lookin’ at me like that. shit, babe, you’re gonna kill me.”

each word grows more frantic with every pleased moan that leaves your lips, and takuma’s gotta force himself to focus on something else. he’d been taught to cum with or after you, a rule ingrained into him that even applies when he’s jerking off.

the tinkling of your anklet near his ear serves as the perfect distraction, until it suddenly reminds him of the sexy position he’s fucking you in. with one leg over his shoulder and the other kicking on the bed, takuma’s cock is able to push deep, into spots you can’t even reach with your fingers.

your chest rises and falls rapidly, plump tits jiggling from all the movement, and his face crumples when you shakily press them down. “‘m gonna cum,” you wheeze, arousal burning like fire through your entire body, “you’re suuuch a good boy, takuma, feels so g-good.”

“don’t say that,” takuma’s pleading with you, shaking his head frantically as his cock starts to throb, “don’t, you’re—hah—gonna make me cum too fast.”

“why not at the same time, honey?” your free leg starts to circle around his waist, drawing him in without leaving an opening for him to escape. “c’mon, takuma, ‘m all yours. just f-fill me up.”

this is an offer he can’t refuse, a ball he absolutely cannot drop—the shakes of his head turn into frantic nods as he accepts, scooping you up to pull you just a few inches closer before he falls off the edge. he’s the cutest, trembling above you and babbling out breathless sweet nothings.

you cum hard on his cock, digging your heel into his lower back as you reach your high. it tears through you and leaves you dizzy, shaking like a leaf beneath his strong body. takuma, on the other hand, is so lost in you that he’s tucked his face into your neck and gasps into your skin. everything is inaudible until he lets out a hushed whine, “ngh, mommy.”

“mmm, takuma,” your nails rake down his shoulders, leaving long red stripes he’ll be proud of when he looks into the mirror. “what was that?”

takuma closes his eyes against you and swallows against the shockwaves of bliss as he empties his balls against your cervix. “h-huh, baby?”

FUSHIGURO TOJI # you will tap out

toji’s unstoppable—once you’re on all fours and throwing your ass back on him, don’t expect to be able to walk without being carried for the next two hours.

“oh my god,” you sob out desperately, voice cracking when you try to speak, “t-toji, it’s—ngh, ‘s too much, i can’t—”

“doll, be for real,” toji snickers, almost out of breath. it’s been so long you can’t even feel your legs anymore, and he presses his large hands onto your squirming hips as if he’s trying to indent his touch into you forever. “you can take it. ya wanna cum, don’t cha?”

weakly, you look over your shoulder just in time to catch the wolfish grin on his face and the gleam of his pearly whites. his dark gaze scours your body hungrily, as if he’s on the hunt for something plump to sink his teeth into. sweat glistens on his chest, salt settled in the hard lines of muscle that define his body and showcase his strength. “if ya hadn’t been so fuckin’ impatient, i’d have made you cum earlier. but noooo, jus’ wanted to be all dumb, huh?”

“‘m sorry,” a scream nearly tears from your throat after another agonizing thrust of his powerful hips—his tip hits the soft, cushy spot deep inside of your cunt that always has you seeing stars. “toji! i didn’t mean to be a—fuck—a brat, i only wanted—”

“blah blah blah,” he groans, targeting your sweet spot with sharp, deliberate thrusts that make your eyes roll back into your skull. “jus’ shut up, baby. keep talkin’ and i’ll leave ya high ‘n dry.”

it sounds horrible—horrible enough for you to snap your mouth shut and just focus on taking his cock even though your hips occasionally jerk to the side. toji’s dick is huge, long and thick and unbelievably easy to go dumb on. your fingers twitch in the sheets, aching to scratch the lustful itch that torments your swollen clit; but toji won’t let you, not until he wants you to cum.

a long cry of frustration is released into the bed, and the corners of his lips quirk up in amusement. “aw, is it gettin’ to be too much for ya?” he croons, landing a few stinging smacks on your sore ass, “hope you’re not tapping out before i let ya cum, doll.”

“i said i was sorry,” bitterly, the words rush out. “w-why can’t i fucking cum, toji?”

a low wolf whistle trills out into the air. “because you like edging, nasty girl. did i fuck ya dumb enough for you to forget that ya asked me to do this shit to you, huh?”

that’s right. you had asked him to starve you of the euphoria briefly, but now it’s well past the limit. yes, fushiguro toji was no stranger to pushing limits—transcending physical thresholds to build his body into your favorite temple to worship—so naturally, he’s started to train you to do the same.

“that’s not fair,” you whine, feeling the tears building in your eyes, “haa, i’m so close.”

“don’t you dare,” toji hisses, wrapping your hair around his fist and pulling you back easily. “you can wait one more minute.”

he’s cruel, going so far as to rub your clit with his rough fingers to make you waver as you wait for the tortuous minute to pass. heat burns across every inch of your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake—it’s impossible not to start trembling, teeth chattering as you try to fight off the unescapable high that only seems to move faster toward you.

“please,” you’re arching all over, nearly collapsing onto your stomach, but he’s got you right where he wants you. “h-hurry up, toji, i can’t hold it anymore—shit!”

“three fuckin’ seconds,” he grunts, the clapping of skin against skin growing louder as the seconds fly by. “‘kay, princess. go ahead and cum alllll over this dick f’me.”

you fall apart on his cock before he can even finish his sentence, cunt clenching hard enough to push him out as you fall forward onto the mattress. the smallest amount of cum squirts from your pussy, and that’s when he realizes he’s not quite done with you yet. toji licks his lips as he watches you writhe, settling onto his stomach to torture you all the more.

“toji!” you can’t help but squeal when he grabs hold of your hips and licks at your overly sensitive clit, his dark eyes rolling back when he feels your pussy twitching against his tongue. “ugh, wait, ‘m not ready for—”

“ya wanted to cum so bad, didn’t ya? so lay back for me, doll.”

KAMO CHOSO # can’t stop, won’t stop

“hah, ‘m sorry,” choso borderline sobs when he delivers another sloppy, trembling thrust deep into your cunt. you’re folded up and blurry beneath him, all because he can’t seem to control the onslaught of crystalline tears that pool in his eyes. “baby, it’s—you just feel so g-gooddd.”

rampant apologies run out from his mouth, but they never quite land, always fading into nothing by the time he finishes the sentence. it’s not like he means a single one, especially when he can’t stop rutting his hips into yours, chasing both of your highs.

“don’t—mmm, fuck,” you curse when the tip of choso’s cock kisses your cervix, sending a brief sting of both pain and pleasure through your nerves, “don’t worry about it, cho, ‘s okay.”

tears race down his pink cheeks as more build in his eyes, despite his frantic attempts to blink them away. “i jus’ can’t stop, you—you feel too fucking good.”

a wave of heat crashes through him when he sees your eyes roll back, legs squeezing around his slim waist in order to keep him inside you. you’re as eager for his cum as he is to give it to you, along with a final orgasm of your own. his cock may be purple with overstimulation by now, but how could that possibly matter when you’re on the brink of bursting at the seams all over him?

choso chokes on a moan and fucks you harder, ignoring the annoying beads of sweat that roll down his temples and paste his hair down to his skin. even in the middle of winter, just the two of you are able to heat the house up as easily as a furnace could.

“oh my—fuck,” your voice breaks when you try to speak, looking deliciously dazed when your bleary eyes finally focus on his own, “y-you’re gonna make me cum again, cho, if you keep that pace—”

“fuckin’ give it to me,” choso begs, raspy voice edged with the intensity of ecstasy roaring through him, “jus’ one more time, just one more, we can—we can cum together, baby.”

he’s hiccuping over his words and losing control faster now that your hand’s tangled in his hair and pulling the way he likes. it stings, but he’d be out of his right mind if he asked you to stop—so instead, “harder, please.. ugh, just like that.”

“you’re such a freak,” you pant out, although you sound more than pleased to yank on his hair, “don’t tell me you’ll cum just from this?”

he swallows a lump in his throat and presses a hand to your lower belly, feeling around for himself, and soon enough, he’s able to feel the distinct swell of his cock inside of you.

“only if you cum all over me,” choso’s already delirious, mind full of thoughts of another orgasm even after this one. with you, he’s learned to control his refractory period, shortening it down to a mere two minutes that he tends to spend between your thighs. “please, you have to let me feel you, baby, it’s the only way—!”

“yeah? oh, are you gonna f-fill me up again?” heat floods your cheeks as your voice becomes more breathy, growing weak now that you’re hurtling toward your own high. “oh my god, ‘s like you’re trying to knock me up.”

something wild flashes across his face and takes place as a flickering movie behind his eyes. he has to pause, momentarily caught up in the idea of getting you pregnant. there’s something about the idea of your swollen belly and babies that really ignites a flame in the half curse—perhaps it’s all the more attractive because there’s a good chance he’s infertile.

“oh, fuck,” he sobs desperately, vision blurring with tears and his thoughts, “‘m cumming—ugh, ‘s all yours, angel, ‘m only yours.”

even as choso’s spilling white inside of you, his stuttering hips don’t stop once. now, he’s got a goal and he intends to achieve it, regardless of your cries of sensitivity. “slow down,” you whine, out of breath. “ch-choso, wait a second—it’s too much!”

“it’s not enough,” he grunts, shaking as he bulldozes through his own oversensitivity, “i’m not done, i have to—i need to put a baby in you.”

“i’m sure there’s five, choso, i need to take a second to bre—”

“just one more, i need to make sure. it has to happen, ‘m almost there. hold on for me, angel, please, i just have to make sure.”

2K notes · View notes

saetoru · 2 years ago

Text

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。yours, always yours

synopsis. satoru has always been yours—and he needs you to know you’ll also always be his

— word count. 2.4k (read the breakup fic first for better understanding, but can be read as a stand-alone)

— contents. fem! reader, college! au, rich boy! gojo, post-getting back together angst that gets a little heated <3, minors do not interact, fingering, unprotected sex, edging, satoru cumming too quick <3, creampie, tbh the smut is short and a lil rushed my b, it ends in fluff tho !! trust !! there is fluff !!

— notes. tbh this will probably get flagged rly fast but oh well u win some u lose some. anywayyyyy here is the make up sex bc yall nasties deserve it <3 jk love u guys

satoru falls first. and he falls hard. everyone knows it, it’s never been a secret.

“you want me to wash your hair?” you ask gently, kissing his shoulder as the water falls over his head. he hums, nodding absentmindedly as he stares blankly at the tiles of your shower wall.

“sure,” he mumbles, “don’t tug.”

“i never tug,” you roll your eyes, snorting. he huffs a small chuckle, but it’s not the usual laugh satoru gives you. it’s mechanic, almost—just there to fill the space. “baby?” you ask softly.

“yeah?” he asks, “oh, should i bend a little? sorry, i—”

“what’re you thinking about?” your hands cup his cheeks, gentle and warm from the hot water as it soaks his skin.

he shakes his head, trying to smile as he clears throat. “just how nice it is to be pampered. maybe i’ll let you break my heart every once in a while so i get my back scrubbed and hair washed like this.”

“satoru,” you insist. you know—and he knows it too. “tell me?”

“why’d you do it?” he mumbles, “why’d you listen to him?”

“toru, you know why,” you sigh, “you know i didn’t think there were any other options.”

“you could’ve talked to me,” he furrows his brows, “just because my stupid old man threatens you with my stupid inheritance doesn’t mean we have to break up.”

“i was afraid you’d choose me.” it comes out as a whisper, like a confession you can’t bear to admit.

“i would have chosen you,” he agrees, “why’s that bad? how’s that wrong—”

“you’re not thinking about the bigger picture,” you shake your head, “that company is yours. you’ve spent your whole life—”

“so what? was i supposed to give up the rest of my life for it too?” he asks tiredly—satoru’s defeated. he’s never been defeated, it’s the most magnetizing thing about him.

even before you date him. he asks and asks and asks no matter how many times you say no. because there’s always a chance you’ll say yes, and he’ll never stop as long as there’s a chance.

“i’m sorry,” you sniffle, lips wobbling, “i could have….i should have said something. i didn’t want you to make a choice young and then….and then regret it.”

“you think i’d regret you?” he’s wounded—absolutely wounded at the words.

satoru has always been careful, diligent and so, so meticulous to love you right, to love you how you need to be loved. hadn’t that proven enough? that he was in it for the long run—for forever? he’d been so sure you’d be his future, that the break up feels like waking up from a peaceful dream to a house fire—devastating, with smoke in his nose and lungs that he can’t breathe right, and everything gone within a moment before he can even register it.

he stares at the ashes in despair. nothing prepared him for the hollowness of not being yours—because satoru has never cared to make you his. all he’s ever wanted was to be yours.

you’re quick to remove him from everything, deleting pictures from your socials, untagging him from posts, removing him from your private stories and close friends list. he doesn’t understand how you could change your mind so quickly—and then he realizes you probably don’t. because he knows you—better than anyone ever has, satoru knows you.

so he’s comes to you, drenched from the rain, from standing outside your door even as the water pelts against his skin because he’s determined. he’s going to get an answer out of you, going to make you explain why you pulled him in so close, let him reside in your heart and fall asleep to the comforting rhythm of its beating—and then push him out like he’s nothing. what made you push him out?

and finally, when he does, when you let him be yours again and admit it’s never what you wanted, that it’s because it’s what his father wanted—well, satoru can’t keep his composure. don’t you know? hadn’t he always told you? hadn’t he poured his heart out and let you know every moment he’s always been stuck dangling from his father’s fingers? stuck somewhere between the sky and ground, too high to feel the floor under his feet but never high enough to feel the wind in his face.

you’ve always known, always listened—and fuck, you held him some nights too, let your fingers dip into his hair and soothe his sorrows of always being stuck.

satoru’s always been stuck, always had every choice made for him and every instruction carefully laid out on the table. and then you decided to make his choice for him too, walking away and choosing his future for him like he’s never had a say.

he’s always been stuck, but never with you—but now, he wonders if that’s changed.

“no,” you squeeze his cheeks, “no i don’t think you’d regret me….but satoru losing what you have is a big thing,” you mumble, “people work their whole lives not having a fraction of what you do. that’s a lot to let you lose.”

“i’ve never seen my dad kiss my mom,” he stares at you, hard and unwavering, his eyes stare into yours, “he’s never held her hand or made her laugh. and you know what she told me? that she would sell her share of everything to have what we do. why do you always look at me for what i have first?” he asks angrily, the water pouring over his shoulders as they shake, “why can’t you just look at me first for once?”

“i do look at you,” you insist, “toru, all i ever see is you—”

“then stop caring what he says,” he says louder, his voice echoing through the small bathroom of your small apartment.

everything about your home is small—smaller than satoru’s especially. but he loves it, thinks he’d rather be here than anywhere else.

because it’s yours. and as long as you’re here, the world fits into this tiny apartment, the galaxy too.

“okay,” you say shakily. and then you nod, looking him in the eye, “you’ll handle it?”

he nods, kissing between your brows, “yeah, i’ll handle it. who else is gonna take over that company anyway?”

“but what if he finds someone else? and then he—”

“he won’t. my grandpa will shred him.”

“but he’s old, and he stepped down, so what really can he do if your dad decides—”

“god, baby,” he groans, pushing your body against the wall gently, “i love your voice, but you talk so much. i’m wanna listen to something else.”

his lips find your neck, sucking gently at the skin, hand trailing to your tits before his thumb circles your nipple. it’s slow, deliberate, teasing as it rolls over the bud.

you whimper, clutching onto him as a breathy, “t-toru,” leaves your lips.

“yeah,” he nods, “that’s what i wanna listen to instead.” his lips are in a grin against your neck, kissing and biting until he reaches your collarbone. “anyone dm you after you took me out of your socials?” he asks bitterly.

“j-just one,” you admit through a stutter, “b-but i didn’t even open it! i wasn’t really—oh, toru,” you gasp as his finger finds your clit, spreading your legs as he lets out a soft growl at your words.

“what? just cause my face isn’t on your instagram suddenly you’re not mine?” he asks, thumb rubbing harsh circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves—you close your eyes, moaning as your arms wrap tightly around his neck. “you’re always mine,” he murmurs against your ear, low and careful so you hear him well, “yeah? got that?”

“got it,” you nod furiously.

“got what?”

“‘m al-always—oh, fuck,” you mewl as one finger prods at your entrance, gathering your slick before slowly sliding through your walls.

“c’mon, sweetheart,” he says firmly, “finish your sentences.”

“always yours, toru! always yours—please, please j-just…”

“just what?” he raises a brow.

“more,” you sob—it’s a broken plea as your hips thrust against his finger.

he’s quick to slide in a second, thrusting his digits mercilessly into your soaked cunt, his palm gliding over your clit as the slick sound of his fingers fucking you is almost drowned by the water in the back.

your water bill will be high this month. you decide it’s a sacrifice satoru deserves.

“you think someone could ever learn this body better than me? make you cum like i can? you think anyone will ever love you enough to learn you like i do?”

“n-no,” you pant, his fingers hitting that spot inside of you so perfectly, you feel that dull ache build up quickly. it’s good—everything with satoru is good. his other hand finds your chest to pinch a nipple, twisting and squeezing until your nails leave indents on his shoulders as you moan loudly. “no one—no one but you.”

“exactly,” he growls, “how could you leave me? how could you leave us?”

“‘m sorry,” you sniffle, whimpering when the tips of his fingers slam against that spongey spot of your walls, fluttering around him and squeezing him in. you’re close—so close that you almost don’t know what he’s saying anymore, too focused on the way your impending orgasm is approaching. fast. “i’m sorry, i’ll never—ever leave again.”

“say you love me,” he demands.

it sounds like he’s pleading, though, if you listen closely. there’s a small crack in his voice, a slight shakiness that makes you force your eyes open and stare at him and whisper, “i love you, satoru. i love you.”

and then he rips his fingers out—right before you’re about to cum. you gasp, pleading nonsense as you cling to him and buck your hips and search for something, anything to take you over the edge.

and then you hear a sniffle. is he crying? is that wet droplet on your shoulder a tear or the water? you’re too busy calming down from your orgasm dying before it ever came to focus.

satoru’s hard against your thigh, throbbing and painful to sink into you. he strokes himself a few times, whimpers as his thumb gathers the pre cum from the sensitive tip, smearing it along his length as he shakily lets out a quiet moan.

“f-fuck, i gotta feel you. please, can i? please—”

“yes,” you pull him closer, grinding your heat over his hard-on, “yes please, toru. more, need more.”

he’s sliding along your folds, dragging the tip of his cock along your entrance and smearing a mix of your arousal with his. and then slowly, ever so gently, he’s pushing into your after that, pushing past your walls and bullying into your soaked cunt, curving into you perfectly.

it’s only been a week—you feel like you haven’t felt him in years. but it’s familiar. you remember every part of him, including every vein that drags along your walls and makes your head spin. he remembers every part of you, including where that spot is that he needs to angle his hips to find.

he slams into you, hard and rough and fast—doesn’t even let you adjust your position to hold onto him tighter before he’s thrusting his hips and fucking into you desperately. you can feel him, every inch of his skin against you, every part of him that’s touching you. and you can feel the way his cock nudges past your folds, the friction burning pleasure through ever nerve.

satoru knows how to fuck you, just like he knows how to love you, he knows your body—every dip and ever curve, every place to touch and every part that has you gushing around him. it’s just the way he is, too good at giving you what you want, what you need.

when he moans, it’s breathy and he’s panting as he lets out those soft whimpers that make your head spin. “feel that? feel me?” he asks, grunting as you squeeze around his length.

“yeah,” you breathe, “‘m so full.”

“i need you. please, please,” he murmurs, “can’t lose you, baby. never you,” he chants, the quiver in his voice tearing you apart.

“i’m right here,” you gasp, lacing your fingers with his and squeezing his hand. he squeezes back, just to let you know he’s there too, “right here, baby. you got me.”

and then he cums, just as soon as you whisper that—he spills right into you with a broken cry, his hips rolling, needy and desperate and so, so lost on the pleasure. he’s too busy working himself through his high, trembling over your body to care he’s cum too quick—and you don’t have it in you to tease him. you can feel the hot ropes of cum filling you, painting your walls white, fucking deep into you as the blunt head of his cock slams into you without a second of hesitation.

but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t falter that brutal pace as his hips slam into you, perfectly kissing your sweet spot every time. and before long, you break—your head pushes back against the wall behind you, mouth parted as you wail his name and cum—hard. you’re quivering and spasming around his swollen cock, enough that he whimpers at the way you’re so tight.

it’s good, it’s always good. satoru makes you feel good. he’s the best you’ve ever had—the best you’ll ever find.

and then you hear it again, the sniffle into your neck as he clutches you tightly. you know for sure that wet droplet is a tear this time, and your fingers tangle into his hair as you stroke the wet strands.

“i love you, toru,” you murmur, “my sweet boy. i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry.”

“don’t do that again,” he huffs in between tears, “that was so mean. so mean.”

“i said i won’t,” you chuckle, fighting back your own tears, “how long are you gonna hold this against me?”

“how long do you plan on being mine?”

“well,” you pull him from your neck, cupping his cheeks as you wipe away tears and peck his lips softly, “i think….forever.”

“well, get ready, then,” he glares softly, “i’m gonna hold this against you forever too.”

“okay,” you nod, “that’s fair.”

“and i love you too,” he adds, “but block whoever dm’d you. it better not be that zenin boy.”

“block those girls who’s pictures you liked,” you shoot back, glaring at him with a pout of your own.

“don’t yell at me,” he mumbles, leaning into your touch as your thumb strokes his cheek, “i’ve had a rough week. you have to be nice.”

dabitee anon. are u seeing this. did u see the satoru who cums too fast. did u see it. report back if u saw this. i repeat, dabitee anon report back if you see this

#teepods.writings #thirstee!#rich boy! au #fics.#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo smut #gojo angst #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut

15K notes · View notes

seraphdreams · 1 year ago

Text

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MEGUMI!" | MEGUMI FUSHIGURO.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃— synopsis. it would be so very cruel of you to not show your appreciation for your best friend, especially on his birthday.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃— cw. smut, college au, reader calls him “megs”, mention of “angelcunt”, unprotected love-making, bimbo!reader / best friend!megumi, a bit of asphyxiation, megumi with a crush! fingering, and praise. mdni <3

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃— word count. 1.7k, a quick read !!

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! hellooo !! it’s a real one’s birthday, this is the least i could do to celebrate. i’m trying to get back into the groove of writing again so stay tuned n ready 4 fics in the future !! sweet college au best friend megumi is always on my mind, something about a stoic but secretly in love trope .. (he’s no better than his father, sigh) .. as always, if you enjoyed this, please reblog / comment. i’ll bake u you’re favorite sweets if u do !! thank u ♡

megumi has always been there for you. through ups and downs, taxing breakups, even the times you’d get exceedingly inebriated and ramble endlessly about your ever-growing appreciation for him — there was no denying the cordiality he’d shown throughout the many years of your friendship. sure, he could be quite cold, maybe even grumpy; but that was just the joy of megumi fushiguro.

and for that, it’d only be right to repay him.

for all of the times he would show up uninvited to your dorm with the notes of the lecture you’d fortuitously missed, blaming the absence on the absurdly quiet lull of your alarm clock, or when he’d let you have the last bite of his food, because only god knows megumi was never above tolerating you. it’d be the work of a terrible friend to let it all go unnoticed, especially on a special day like today.

“happy birthday, megs!” there you stood,

bubbly and bright as ever, in the doorway of his bedroom, clad in nothing but a tiny pink pajama set with a top reigning transparency, it barely left the skin beneath to the imagination.

he had invited you, along with yuuji and nobara, over to his dorm the previous night to keep him company after class — which led to a kugisaki-induced movie marathon, and eventually phased out into the four of you passed out on the fushiguro’s couch, hues of light omitting from the colorful rays of the forgotten television screen and onto your slumbering faces.

with megumi holding the title of competency within the friend group, it came as no shock when he’d woken up the others to send them on their merry way. all except you, of course. the light throw-over blanket clinging to your body neatly as you slept, soft snores resonating within your being aided in megumi’s decision to give you a few extra minutes to rest.

he could never interfere with your comfort.

after your unanticipated birthday wishes, it took a moment for megumi to come to, blinking away his awareness for your scantily clothed body and opting for a more stoic expression.

“thanks,” he replied, tone low and clouded with an air of vague appreciation.

“wanna know what i got you for your birthday?” your query was that of a sing-song manner as you swayed in place. megumi was used to being around absolute rays of sunshine, but you? you were different. it was as if you were the sun itself; warm and inviting yet shone luminous enough to blind onlookers. you were tooth-rottingly sweet, and as bubbly as you were naive.

matters weren’t made any better forgoing the fact that megumi had true feelings for you. it was a running gag within your friend group, jokes that itadori and nobara would make concerning the contrast between megumi’s unwelcoming behavior when it came to them, and impassive patience had times fell upon you.

in fact, obliviousness was your specialty in being ignorant to the feelings of the fushiguro. it wasn’t your fault, you truly didn’t know.

megumi responds curtly, although with a hint of sarcasm, “a break?”

you pout as you rest your head against the lacquered doorframe, reigning defeated already despite the conversation barely racking up a minute’s time. “no, silly.” the words come out as a giggle. “i got you me!”

a hint of confusion glosses over his features before it morphs into that of a neutral expression. shirtless from his shower just minutes prior, and puzzled from what your mind had conjured up this time, he questions again. “you? you got me you?”

you shake your head affirmatively as he starts up once more. “and what do i do with you?”

clear as day, your exchange took a rather suggestive turn, one that neither of you were intending. “well, you can do a lot of things with me,” now stepping into the room to close the distance between your bodies, your response is thick with an air of lust that megumi noticed seemed to come naturally for you. his heart picks up in pace from the sight of your pretty face, and even prettier eyes looking vacantly into his, as if you weren’t aware of the trap you set up for yourself.

he brushed off the slight arousal brewing up within him, chose to play it off as mirth like he usually did when it came to you. “i guess so.”

you held onto his arm, a more distinct, yet adorable look of seriousness on your features. truly, you were a little doll. “i’m for real, megs. it’s your birthday, i’ll let you do anything you want.”

yeah. you’re really going to regret this one.

the word “anything” came with free reign. and even though megumi thought of himself as anyone but a pervert, he certainly was bound to start acting like one.

“anything?” his question came out as if he was treading lightly while he moved to dig through his drawer, perhaps looking for a shirt.

you stepped back to allow him the space of rummaging, while nodding your head and confirming his suspicions. “anything.”

“let’s fuck, then.”

his tone was nonchalant, easy on your ears as his speaking voice regularly sounded, and you would have missed his request had he not straightened up to search your countenance for an answer — deadpan, as if he hadn’t said a thing.

in that moment, all of what you hadn’t noticed, no. all of what you chose to deny had finally been put into perspective.

megumi fushiguro was fucking hot.

“i mean, if that’s what you want then i don’t mind.” your response was succinct, gentle on your tongue and provided him the response he’d been aiming for.

this might be his best birthday yet.

he strode closer to you in light steps before his large, glacial hand found its place on your cheek and silken lips met yours, pulling you into a salacious kiss filled with hunger and want. the press of his tongue begging to be allotted within the slot of your lips was accepted with your own muscle dancing against his. it was dizzying, and dissimilar. for all your years of knowing megumi, you would’ve never thought up the occuring situation.

lithe fingers danced up the skin of your thighs where you part them on instinct, allowing his digits to work on their own to slip past the barrier of elastic fabric and into your little lace panties, softly drumming along the puffy nub of your clit.

“megumi,” you rasp against his lips, swirling your hips over his hand to build up the sweet friction surging from your core. the saccharine croon of his name tasted sugary like vanilla rolling off of your tongue and onto his. he was in pure bliss; ready to take everything you gave to him.

his body responded to your need, fingertips at your clit circling tightly, an action that pulled a string of mewls from you before you gasped at the intrusion of his long fingers dipping into your core. they curled upwards against your gummy walls just until they increased in pace while his thumb pivoted at your sensitive nub, and fuck! where’d he learn how to do that?

he pulled away only slightly to read your expression, the tent in his pants growing taller, tip leaking carelessly at the onsight of your face, screwed taut in pleasure — plump, glossy lips that were slick with spit and moans slipping past without prevail.

underneath him, your legs felt feeble, as if they’d fall beneath you from the surgence of pleasure. “m-megumi, wait, ‘m gonna!-“ you held onto his shoulders for leverage, your warnings of orgasm falling on deaf, distracted ears, until finally, you were a gushing mess in his palm, coating his digits in your essence.

“fuck. you’re so pretty when you cum,” in that moment, he gave you no chance to react when he gently positioned you over his dresser, pulling down your little shorts until they pooled around your knees.

“y’made me so hard, y/n. can you feel it?” he grinded himself over the plush of your ass, teasing before pulling his sweats down just enough so that his hard, throbbing and leaking, length could be free. it bobbed ever so under its weight while one hand began to pump from base to shaft to soothe the excruciating ache. once he felt satisfied in his ministrations, he lined his cock along your awaiting slit.

“a condom, megs.” your reminder came in the form of a soft lull. after all, you two were just free-spirited college students, unable to pay the consequences of spontaneous actions. “don’t have any.” with that, he sunk his cock inside to the hilt, a low groan rippling from his throat at just how tight your pussy clamped around him. it felt like fucking heaven. he could die in your cunt and be at peace.

while you adjusted to the stretch, he began to move; slow, deep strokes as if he were savoring this moment forever. who knows when he’ll be able to have the luxury to sink inside your perfect angelcunt again? you bit your lip to stave off impending moans which ultimately failed when his arms snaked around your body — one hand underneath the cloth of your shirt and pinching at your perked nipples while the other finds its place right back at your clit.

“sh-shit!” you cry out, eyes rolling and mind hazy from the pleasure. his rhythm increased gradually until he built up a vigorous pace. “i’ve been needing y-you so bad.” megumi groans along the shell of your ear. how he got so lucky as to have his dream girl engulfed around his cock, he doesn’t know. all he’s aware of was the tightening of his abdomen, signaling his own impending orgasm.

white hot pleasure replace all feeling in your body, counting down its time until the familiar numbness washed over you in euphoria. a pitchy moan sounded from your lips and an even whorish whimper when the warmth from spurts of his cum coated your insides.

after what felt like a minute of the two of you recollecting your breaths, megumi finally pulled out, shuddering at the added stimulation at his oversensitive cock.

he leaned your head back to meet his lust-filled gaze; calmness of his deep navy orbs now deepened with sin. megumi pressed gentle kisses all over your face while his hands took purchase at your now, exposed, neck and squeezed tight enough to keep you lightheaded.

“you’re the best birthday present.”

8K notes · View notes

hsnlv · 2 months ago

Text

sweet strokes | y.jw

pairing: husband!jungwon x wife!reader

synopsis: when you beg jungwon to let you do his makeup, he reluctantly agrees, unable to resist your charms. what starts as playful teasing turns into a heartwarming moment of love, laughter, and stolen glances—proving he’ll do anything to see you smile.

wc: 1.1k

warning/others: bunch of nicknames, fluff (if that needed a warning idk lmao)

here’s my masterlist!

“uwon, please,” you beg, almost on your knees now, clasping your hands together dramatically.

for the past ten minutes, you’ve been trying to convince your husband to let you put makeup on him. you just know he’d look so good with it, and you’re determined to prove it. but jungwon? he’s as stubborn as ever.

“honey, no,” he says firmly, crossing his arms over his chest and letting out a long sigh. his brows furrow, and his lips press into a tight line. it’s such a rare sight—jungwon refusing you. he almost never says no to you, and honestly, you’re not used to it.

“pretty, please?” you whine, pouting up at him with your most convincing expression. “i promise i’ll make you look good. uwon, please.”

he groans, leaning his head back against the couch. “why do you even want to do this?”

“because it’ll be fun!” you insist, crawling closer to him and resting your chin on his knee. “and you’ll look so pretty, uwon. please, just trust me on this.”

jungwon looks down at you, his lips twitching like he’s trying not to smile. “what if i look ridiculous?”

“you won’t,” you assure him quickly, your eyes sparkling with excitement. “i swear. just a little eyeliner, maybe some blush—nothing too crazy. you’ll look amazing, uwon. please?”

he lets out another groan, rubbing his face with his hands. “why do you do this to me?”

“because i love you,” you say sweetly, batting your lashes at him. “and because i know you love me too much to say no.”

jungwon sighs, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “fine,” he mutters, barely loud enough for you to hear.

your face lights up instantly, and you launch yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “you’re the best husband ever!” you exclaim, peppering kisses all over his cheeks.

“yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, though the corners of his lips are tugging upward into a reluctant smile. “just… don’t make me look like a clown, okay?”

“you won’t regret this,” you promise, already grabbing your makeup bag and sitting cross-legged in front of him.

“hold still, uwon,” you murmur, gently tilting his chin up so you can apply eyeliner. jungwon stares at you, his dark eyes watching your every move.

“this feels weird,” he mumbles, his lips curving into a small pout.

“you’ll survive,” you tease, carefully tracing a thin line along his eyelid. “and trust me, the results will be worth it.”

jungwon hums in response, his lashes fluttering when you ask him to close his eyes. he’s being surprisingly cooperative, though you suspect it’s mostly because he doesn’t want to upset you.

“done!” you announce after a few more finishing touches. “open your eyes, uwon. look at yourself.”

jungwon blinks a few times before turning to the mirror. his eyes widen slightly as he takes in his reflection. “is that… me?”

“yup,” you say proudly, resting your chin on his shoulder as you admire your handiwork. “you’re even prettier than i imagined.”

jungwon lets out a soft laugh, his cheeks flushing pink. “i look… kind of cool,” he admits, tilting his head to get a better look.

“you look amazing,” you correct, wrapping your arms around his neck from behind. “seriously, uwon. you could pull off anything.”

jungwon turns to face you, his expression softening. “you really went all out, huh?”

“only the best for you,” you reply, grinning. “now, how does it feel to be the prettiest man alive?”

he rolls his eyes playfully, but the faint smile on his lips gives him away. “if it makes you happy, angel, then i guess it’s worth it.”

“it does,” you say, your voice full of warmth. “you’re so handsome, uwon. our kids are gonna be absolutely gorgeous because of you.”

jungwon freezes, his eyes locking onto yours. “our kids, huh?”

“yeah,” you say shyly, your fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. “don’t you think?”

jungwon’s expression softens even more, and he leans in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “they’ll be perfect,” he murmurs. “because they’ll have you as their mom.”

your cheeks burn at his words, and you hide your face in his chest, making him laugh. “stop being so sweet,” you mumble.

“i can’t help it,” he says, wrapping his arms around you. “you bring it out of me.”

the two of you stay like that for a while, wrapped up in each other. but then you suddenly pull back, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.

“what now?” jungwon asks, raising an eyebrow.

“we’re taking a selfie,” you declare, grabbing your phone.

jungwon groans, already knowing where this is headed. “baby, no. you’re not posting this.”

“oh, come on,” you tease, holding up the phone and angling it just right. “it’s for the memories!”

“memories that don’t need to be on instagram,” he protests, though he still lets you snap the picture.

you examine the photo, your grin widening. “you look so good, uwon. i have to post this.”

“angel,” he says, his tone pleading. “don’t.”

you pout, holding the phone to your chest. “please?”

jungwon stares at you for a moment, his resolve weakening under your gaze. finally, he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “fine. but no embarrassing captions.”

“deal!” you chirp, already typing away.

jungwon shakes his head, pulling you back into his arms. “you’re lucky i can’t say no to you.”

“i know,” you say, smiling up at him. “and i love you for it.”

“yeah, yeah,” he grumbles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “i love you too, angel. even when you make me do ridiculous things.”

“you mean fun things,” you correct, snuggling closer to him.

jungwon laughs, resting his chin on your head. “sure, let’s go with that.”

642 notes · View notes

aycius · 8 months ago

Text

GQ’s COUPLE QUIZ: JJK MEN EDITION!‧₊˚

feat. sukuna ryomen, satoru gojo, nanami kento, choso kamo & toji fushiguro

author’s note. this was inspired by rihanna & A$AP’s couple’s quiz together, i love them so badly!

SUKUNA RYOMEN

this cocky ass mf… everyone can already tell that this man doesn’t want to be here (that’s how confident he is that he’ll get all the questions right). literally as you guys were driving here he made you bet that if he got all the questions correctly, you give him massages for the whole week and when you asked what was in it for you, he gave a taunting laugh and said there wouldn’t be because he’d answer everything correctly… well, turns out there truly ISN’T anything for you because he actually managed to answer the questions correctly, short and simple answers and when the sound of the ‘ding’ comes on he literally SMIRKS at the camera. the crew was stunned to say the least and now he’s trending on all social media platforms as everyone’s “dream man.” some people were mad and claimed that the both of you premeditated answer because of how quickly he responded. has ‘i know my girl better than anyone else” written all over his face.

SATORU GOJO

overconfident (it’s gojo we’re talking about, c’mon). literally the definition of ‘loud and wrong.’ will confidently answer a question incorrectly and try to tell YOU that his answer was correct, and yours wasn’t. smirks when you smack him on the chest for being a dumbass and literally everyone in the room can sense the tension from the both of you. licks his lips and leans closer to you but you use his middle finger and thumb to flick his forehead away, a VERY KIND reminder that you guys are in public. he’s getting flamed on twitter from getting ‘rejected’ by his own girlfriend. LOL.

NANAMI KENTO

this poor man… went in so confident that he’d be able to answer the questions correctly but 5 questions in and he’s already a flat tire. please cut the dude some slack. literally kid you not this man full on SIGHS with ALL his might before muttering a little “baby…” when you ask him how many follicles of hair are on your head. you decide that the questions you’re asking him are a teeny bit too unfair so you die it down and ask him more normal questions to which he answers them all correctly. you don’t forget to sprinkle in those unreasonable questions every once in a while because kento’s defeated face is just so cute.

CHOSO KAMO

an absolute angel. literally radiates light when he gets an answer right, his smile so wide that you can’t help but laugh at how cute he is. when he gets one wrong he brings out his hand across the table for you to grasp and plays with your fingers while you explain the correct answer and he nods along, silently repeating it to himself so he remembers for later. you have to bite back a smile with all the cameras on your face.

TOJI FUSHIGURO

doesn’t follow the rules. absolutely indecisive. blurts out a bunch of different answers because he’s scared of getting them wrong. literally stares at you like you’re the one answering the questions and you tell him carefully “you know this one” — he doesn’t. it was supposed to be soothing but it sounded more like a threat if anything. you asked him what your first name was and he even answered that incorrectly… he claims it’s because he isn’t a good test taker… he already know he’s in big trouble when he gets home.

1K notes · View notes

verxca · 1 month ago

Text

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ [ imagine #02 ]

[ j. todd ] ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

── . ✦ in which jason is your next door neighbour.

✦ The first time you met Jason wasn’t out of high stakes - a dangerous situation - or from a friend of a friend. It was by pure will, and that stuck out to him. You’d come over to finally meet your new neighbour who’d moved into your small apartment complex, blushing slightly as a young man opened the door. There you were, standing with a small container of pasta in hand next to the hunk of a man you’d never met. All because you’d made some extra on accident.

“Thanks. This looks great.” He nods his head ever so slightly in gratitude.

✦ Jason notices how your shoulders relax as he takes the container— how cute you looked all nervous like that. Above all, he was just happy he didn’t come off as some shitty neighbour, fortified by the wide, gentle smile you ported while turning to wave goodnight.

✦ He sets the container onto his counter, picturing your face in his mind for a brief instant. It'd been a while since someone did something nice for Jason, just because. He wasn’t used to it.

✦ You’d crossed paths many times in the hallway, but what really sealed the deal was when your sink started to leak one random thursday evening. You couldn’t tell if it was minor or not, but you wanted to play it safe, knocking next-door. Who was Jason to deny a pretty girl, anyway? He accepts causally, though inside he’s beaming more than he’d like to admit.

“Yeah, no sweat, let me grab my tools.”

✦ And only a couple minutes later, he was hunched under your kitchen cabinets— sleeves rolled up and everything. His hands work deftly, years of practice making the task almost second nature.

“Do you need a water, or anything? I have soda, too.”

“Oh- Yeah. Water would be perfect.”

✦ You tried desperately to hide your growing grin while reaching up for a glass, the whole situation particular. Jay stayed longer than he had to once the leak was actually repaired; a whole half hour to put into perspective. Maybe it was the way your eyes lit up when you smiled, or the way you seemed genuinely happy to have him over that made him give in. Or, maybe, it’d just been too fucking long since he’d had a normal conversation like this.

“Eh, I've been around for a bit," He says vaguely as you two were sharing, "Long enough to know my way around. And- to know that this place is a hell of a lot better than some of the other shitholes in the city."

He gestures to your apartment with his glass in hand, leaning against your counter. “Yeah, tell me about it… It’s small, but it works.” Jason points to the sink he had just finished fixing with a smirk, eliciting a small chuckle from you.

✦ Your smile just lit up around him, and that was when he knew you’d be the woman he’d marry.

✦ But then, the fateful night hit. Red Hood had come back home after beating up some prominent criminals near the side of an old port— covered in bruises and a small stab wound to the lower abdomen. His head wasn’t in the game, and the feverish lightning made it hard to concentrate. He reached for his apartment door, mask in hand. It was late; he knew nobody would be out roaming the halls at this hour.

✦ The handle didn’t budge, though— his black gloves gripping onto the metal more harshly.

“Fuck!”

✦ Jay yelled, banging his hand against his apartment door. This? Now? Could his night not get any fucking worse? He pauses, his expression not angry, but just sad. Tired. He looked defeated. Jason walked over to the left of him, pausing before knocking on your door.

“Jason? Oh my god- Are you-”

✦ The stab wound in his side was throbbing, and you could see some blood dripping down from his leg. He needed to get it cleaned before he passed out.

“Please.”

✦ You don’t waste anytime before helping him inside, placing your hand on his lower back. You always had your suspicions about the guy— but this? He had to be a vigilante! Crime was rampant in this area, anyway… You prayed he was on the good side of things.

✦ Jason was sitting on your toilet seat, shirt off, gaze completely averted down. He didn’t want you to see him like this; all fucked up and broken. But you didn’t run screaming, or turn away in disgust— Instead you rushed to help him. He didn’t understand. You diligently cleaned his wound with an antiseptic, own expression sour from how much you knew it had to be hurting him. Jay tried his best to hold still despite the stinging pain, grunting slightly.

“Shit…”

✦ You look up, only to notice he was already staring down at you in between his legs. Your heart skipped a number of beats.

“Can you tell me what happened?” You ask calmly, and Jason just couldn’t take it. Your soft hands - your sympathetic expression - your fucking voice. He was going to break, averting his gaze in the matter of a second before clearing his throat roughly.

“Just crossed through the bad side of town.”

✦ Once the wounds were cleaned, you bandaged them up with extra care. Jason’s gaze was fixed between your hands working at his cuts, up to your pretty face. Apart of him wanted to apologize for showing up all unannounced like this, but another part of him— a part that's been starved of kindness and compassion for far too long wanted nothing more than to let you take care of him. Nobody had ever before, at least not with such compassion as you carried.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this… I just didn’t know where else to go.”

✦ He explained his situation once you offered him a glass of water— how his apartment was locked. You don’t think twice before letting him stay the night.

✦ You handed him some old pyjama pants that were too big on you to sleep in, all the while his equipment sat in your bathtub for the time being. You didn’t waste your time before setting up the couch, too, even lighting a nice candle on the coffee table. Jason feels a warmth spread through his chest as you smile at him— it had nothing to do with the pain.

“Fuck- I can’t thank you enough for this.”

“Oh, Jason- It’s my pleasure, really. If you need anything during the night, just come get me, yeah?”

✦ You close the blinds and shut off all the lights before tucking yourself back into bed. Holy… what a night! You couldn’t get the image of him out of your head, knowing he trusted you enough for this. All the while Jason fell asleep like a light for the first time in many years, all thanks to your gentle care.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ part 2 ?

#jason todd #jaybird #red hood #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #batfam #dc #dc comics #fluff #comfort

920 notes · View notes

777heavengirl · 18 days ago

Text

Bless the Telephone ; ##04

James Potter x f!muggle!reader

word count: 1,163

warnings: none?

a/n: HELLO IM ALIVE- ummm did break up with my boyfriend, after spiraling for a week i am feeling much better! I did what was right for me and i am happier for it!! JAMES OR SIRIUS WOULD HAVE NEVER TREAT ME LIKE THAT! so yea I'm back :D thank you for putting up with my disappearances i should be uploading SEMI regularly just bc classes r in full throttle now

series masterlist

main masterlist

It hadn't been as difficult as you thought. Getting rid of Josh was a pending item on your to-do list for months. But for some reason or another, you never could, not completely. More often than not, he’d find some weak spot in your resolve, and crawl back in like a cockroach.

But not this time, at least not yet. After that day, when James’s call saved you from a bit of an uncomfortable situation, you managed to easily avoid his calls, if he knocked at the door Charlotte and you stayed unbearably still until he went away. He left voicemail after voicemail, called Charlotte’s phone with a bit more anger, and called your phone with crocodile tears.

But you weren't sweating it. You had fallen into an easy pattern with James, he’d fill the time that you would've been itching to fill and end up calling Josh out of boredom.

James was a good friend! At least that's what you’d tell Charlotte. She’d look at you with a glint in her eye and a smirk on her lips that you ignored. If only she was so keen and observant with women that she liked, she tended to lack awareness often.

You didn’t dare tell her about the playful jabs, the comments you didn't dare label fully as flirty, or god forbid the butterflies that fluttered at the pit of your stomach every time he called, laughed, or gave you some stupid cloying nickname.

“Come on pretty- just tell me” You could hear the pout in his voice

You groaned in defeat, “Okay okay- if I had to be any creature…” You thought about it for a second more “Potter this is stupid”

“Indulge me”

You sighed “Fine, I think I would be… a witch”

“That's not a creature love”

“Well they are to me”

“I know a few that would be greatly offended by that comment” he retorted

“Oh yeah? You’re friends with witches?” you mirrored the smirk you heard in his voice

“Quite a few actually, nasty women the lot of them…” James smiled, thinking of his friends. How Marlene would probably flick the side of his head, and Lily would wholeheartedly just roll her eyes. Dorcas would definitely send a book flying straight to his head if she heard, not that she hadn't done that often enough during their time at school. It was always deserved. “love them nevertheless though- Pick something else, witches are human”

You hmph in disagreement and thought about it momentarily

“I don't think it would be very pleasant to be a werewolf you know? A bit inconvenient-” you thought out loud

“You don’t know the half of it,” he said under his breath

“Vampires sound kind of cool… wouldn't be able to go out into the sun though so that's quite a shame” James hummed in agreement “Maybe a mermaid, they’re pretty right?”

“Allegedly, they’re more scary than anything else- foul foul creatures” The ones in the Black Lake had messed with him more than once.

“Oh, what do you know Potter?”

“Quite a lot thank you- more than you anyway”

“And why do you think that? Mermaids aren't scary dummy”

“You say that because you haven't seen one pretty” James’s mouth was faster than his thoughts, he prayed you’d just laugh it off.

“Oh, and I suppose you have?” He slapped himself on the forehead as he thought of some excuse. The witches' comment he was able to get away with, maybe his tone had been too matter-o-fact.

“Well, yes I have!” he said, confidently, ironically. You started laughing, his worry melted away. Would you even believe him if he told you?

“Is that so? Well okay, what creature would you be Potter?”

“A hippogriff I think”

“What the hell is that?” James burst out in laughter

You could feel Charlotte’s eyes on you as you scooped ice cream into your lips. You focused on the cold chocolatey flavor and whatever movie she had found. You didn’t know what you were watching, you thought of James.

James and his stupid laugh, and the way he always called you pretty or doll or some other completely repulsive nickname you wanted to hate. But you couldn't. He was sweet, and he always asked how you were, after he found out about your roommate’s existence, he asked about her too.

“y/n”

“yes charlotte?”

“What does he look like? is he cute? Is he tall? I reckon that’s an important one with men is it not” you groaned as she launched question after question

“Char, I already told you I don't know anything about him”

“But you talk all day, every day” She scoffed

“It’s not every day- nor is it all day I have things to do you know”

“It is though, every bloody day, you come in and launch yourself at the telephone like clockwork” You stared at your pint of ice cream, suppressing the small laugh that threatened to leave your lips.

You felt a tad silly.

“It’s just-” You started to say, Charlotte leaned in with an excited smile on her lips as if egging you on. “It feels stupid, I could be getting totally scammed right now- sure he sounds young, and sure he said he’s twenty- but he could be anyone, anywhere”

“Let’s think about it though- you guys talk a lot he has to be in England no? Calls out are so expensive” She grabbed the pint of ice cream from your hands, shoving a spoonful into her mouth.

“That doesn’t change anything Char, I don't know him” She waved the spoon around dismissively. For someone who was so cynical about her own love life, Charlotte was always ready to be invested in yours. You never minded though, you were happy to bond over the raging disaster that it seemed to be.

“You guys have never thought about meeting up? You haven’t even talked about it?” You shifted uncomfortably as she wiggled her eyebrows “Have you even asked him what he looks like?” You took the ice cream tub back, shoving ice cream into your mouth

“We’re missing the movie y’know?” She scoffed at your weak attempt to change the subject

“As if I care about that- come on, you’re rolling in laughter every time you’re on that damn phone so there is clearly some chemistry there”

“So what I also have chemistry with circus clowns?” You said, turning to give her a deadpan stare.

“You know what I mean” She took the ice cream back

“What if I meet up with him and he kidnaps me…” she offered you the last few scrapes left in the tub. When you shook your head she ate it gingerly, a small smile on her face. “Suddenly I’m in the arctic tundra being trafficked”

“As long as it's not with Josh,” she shrugged her shoulders “I reckon anything is better,” she said, snorting

“You’re terrible” You both fell into laughter

tags ; @ilovejamespottersomuch @ravisinghs-wife @hidontmindtheintrovert @stella-thestars @caspiankingofnarnia @lovelyteenagebeard @starkluvrr @hisparentsgallerryy @leilani13gc @katsusayhi @auroresce @lovemiss-vale @alessiaparigim @unconventional-lawnchair @moonydoodlez @eissaaaa @ailoda @nahhhwhatthefrick @notapoetjustscar @hiireadstuff @the-rat-king1902 @n1ght-vngel @littlewhitel1es @rreporterbby

permanent tag ; @laufeysvalentine @heyyyloverr

PLEASE PLEASE LMK IF I MISSED YOU I HAVE BEEN GONE FOR WEEKS AND I DID MY BEST TO COLLECT EVERYONE AHHHH thank you for reading <3

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #the marauders #the marauders era #marauders #marauders era #james potter fic #james potter oneshot #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james #james potter x reader #james x reader #james f potter x reader #james f potter #james fleamont potter #prongs #prongs x reader

296 notes · View notes

feyascorner · 1 year ago

Text

“I love you.” The first time he says those simple three words, he doesn't mean it. Not really. And he knows you're aware of it too, with the stern glare you give him in response to his smug grin. He's teasing you—or, it looks that way anyway. In reality, he hopes that there's a glimmer, a sliver of your heart that welcomes his enticing and open arms. It’s routine. A habit. It feels more natural to lure you in with songs of promises than to simply tell you what he needs. He hopes you take his hand and ignore the sharp nails digging into your skin. He hopes you fall.

“I love you.” The second time is months later. He thinks he might genuinely mean it this time, considering how heavy his heart feels in his chest as the words leave his lips. But it’s hesitant. You can tell. And ever so patient, you only smile at him, taking his hand this time to squeeze it gently. Ah, that feels nice. Does he love you? Have you grown on his cold, dead heart? The fact that he doesn't want to recoil from your touch is enough if an answer..

“I love you.” The third time is at his grave. He’s confident now. Feeling. Wanting. He wishes he could hold your fingers against his skin forever. He doesn't want to even let go, because he fears you might vanish into thin air, like every other caring thing in his life. You're good. Understanding. Nothing like him. You deserve better than him. But he's always been a selfish man, and even though your presence urges him to be better, he remains selfish when it comes to you. He doesn't--no, he won’t lose you.

“I love you.” He’d feared he would never get to say the words again. He had faith in you of course, but an Elder Brain is no easy feat to defeat. But as he watches the brain sink into the darkest depths of the sea, the others cheering behind him, he feels the sun begin to prick at his skin again. It stings. Gods, does it sting. For a moment, he wonders if he should even run. He's had a taste for the sun kissed glow and he's not sure if he wants to part ways with it if it means he’ll rot away in the shadows forever. But when he feels you hurriedly toss a cloak over his shoulder, covering his face with the hood just enough for him to meet your eyes, you offer him something he doesn't want to ever imagine himself without again. Something he’s still in disbelief he has. Someone to worry for him.

I love you, I love you, I love you. As years pass, the words become more frequent, yet they never lose their weight, no matter how they're said or when. It’s funny, really, how he'd almost feared saying the same exact words just a few decades ago. To Astarion, they remind him that you're still here, allowing him the privilege to let him love you as much as he does.

“I love you.” The last time he says it, whether it be after an untimely death or simply from old age, he’s holding your hand again. He hates that instead of the adoration it’s supposed to convey, he hears more of the wobble in his voice as he realizes his time with you is up. Even though he's said it so many times, he finds that it still wasn't nearly enough. Open your eyes, he pleads to nobody in particular. He breathes. Why is he breathing? He doesn't need to. But the breaths become faster, and he realizes he’s crying too. Curses, how immature. Ah, your hand is so cold, almost like his own. He hates it. Don't be like him. And when he begs, he begs. Squeeze his hand again. Touch him again. Smile at him again. Live again.

Let him love you again.

#is this too corny..#idk I love him #astarion ancunin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #astarion x reader #astarion #bg3 x reader #astarion fanfic #astarion x oc #astarion x you

2K notes · View notes

mythicalmaven · 5 months ago

Note

omg i saw your prompt list and I'm a sucker for oscar lately, so i thought 45 (God, I am so in love with you) with him? fluff please :)

i love your writing btw!

First Kiss - Oscar Piastri (requested)

Masterlist ↳pairing: oscar piastri x female!reader ↳word count: 0.8K ↳summary: In which Oscar wins the Azerbaijan GP & finally kisses you for the first time ↳prompts used: 45 - "God, I am so in love with you"

Oscar had been in love with you for years, a secret he’d kept tucked away in the corners of his heart, afraid of what would happen if he ever let it out. He’d watch you laugh, your eyes sparkling with a light that made everything else fade away, and he’d feel his chest tighten with the words he could never quite say.

You’d been his best friend since forever, the person who knew him better than anyone else. Every victory, every defeat—you were there, cheering him on or comforting him in the quiet moments when the world seemed too much. But as much as he cherished your friendship, he was terrified to risk it by confessing his feelings, convinced that you saw him as nothing more than a friend.

It was a thought that haunted him every time he caught you looking at him with that warm smile, every time your hand brushed against his, sending electric shocks through his body. He couldn’t imagine a life without you in it, so he swallowed down his love, settling for being your best friend even if it meant his heart ached every time you were near.

But everything changed the morning of the Baku race. He was in the paddock, nerves buzzing under his skin as he tried to focus on the upcoming race, terribly failing as he catched himself staring at you once again. But then Lando came up to him with a knowing smile.

“You know she’s in love with you too, right?” Lando said casually, as if he hadn’t just dropped a bombshell on him.

Oscar blinked, his brain struggling to process the words. “What?”

“Yeah,” he continued, oblivious to the way his heart was suddenly racing. “She’s been head over heels for you for ages. Honestly, it’s kind of obvious. I thought you knew.”

He stood there, stunned, his mind spinning as everything he thought he knew shifted. You were in love with him? All those moments he’d dismissed as wishful thinking, the lingering touches, the way you looked at him—had he been blind to it all?

"Are you sure?" Oscar asked, completely dumbfounded. Afraid that Lando might got the wrong signals, that it wasn't what he thought it was.

"Couldn't be more sure" Lando smiled at him, patting his shoulder "Mate, she legit told me, 'I wonder if Oscar has any idea how crazy I am about him.' That clear enough for you?" he chuckled, mocking your love sick tone "Didn't wan't to be the one to spill the beans, but I'm pretty sure the both of you otherwise would have been too shy too ever confess to each other"

His heart soared, hope blossoming in his chest, but there was no time to process it. The call for the race was going out, and he had to get to the grid. He barely remembered the moments that followed, his body moving on autopilot as he climbed into the car, his mind consumed by thoughts of you.

And when he crossed the finish line, his first instinct wasn’t to celebrate the victory—it was to find you, to tell you everything he’d been holding back for so long. Because now he knew. And he wasn’t going to let another moment slip by without you knowing, too.

He glanced around, searching the crowd with an urgency you’d never seen before. When his eyes locked onto yours, a grin split his face. Without a second thought, he handed his helmet to a nearby mechanic and practically sprinted toward you. Your heart leaped into your throat as he reached the barrier, reaching out to lift you over it with ease. His hands found your face, cupping your cheeks with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with the intense look in his eyes.

“Oscar—” you began, but your words were cut off as he crashed his lips onto yours, his kiss filled with a raw, unspoken longing. You gasped against his mouth, stunned, but the surprise quickly melted into warmth as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

The crowd erupted in cheers, their shouts echoing around you, but it all faded into a blur. It was just the two of you, standing there in the middle of the chaos, wrapped up in each other. The kiss was everything you’d ever dreamed of—soft yet demanding, sweet but full of a simmering passion that sent shivers down your spine. You could feel the joy and relief radiating from him, his lips moving against yours with a mix of exhilaration and tenderness that made your legs weak.

When you finally pulled apart, breathless and dazed, Oscar rested his forehead against yours, his eyes sparkling with unspoken words. His thumb brushed over your cheek as he searched your gaze, a smile tugging at his lips.

“I love you too, by the way,” he whispered, his voice slightly breathless but steady.

A giggle bubbled up from your chest, pure happiness spilling over as you leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. The cameras were still flashing, the crowd still cheering, but all you could focus on was the warmth of his hands and the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

Oscar’s gaze never left you, his grin widening with each passing moment. Finally, he could hold you the way he’d always longed to. He’d admired you for so long, captivated by your beauty. But now, seeing you up close, you looked even more stunning. He was completely smitten. “God, I am so in love with you.”

Masterlist

434 notes · View notes

byproducts-of-my-imagination · 1 year ago

Text

Everyone Hates Todo Except You

The best part about Todo is that you don’t have to put yandere in front of him because his normal behavior already screams delusional and obsessive. You cannot convince me that he doesn’t sniff all your things as soon as you’re not looking. He’s just so intense. I love this man, need to catch up on jjk.

~1k words. Thank you to whoever requested this and I hope you enjoy!

At the Kyoto branch, nobody really bothers sticking their nose in Todo’s business. But when there’s an enormous mound of trash bags outside his room that just keeps getting bigger, concerning glances and eyebrow raises no longer cut it. Normally his antics earn a side eye or two, but lately it’s been a little much, even for him. At the breakfast table the next day, the girls decide to draw straws to see who has to tell him to move his shit.

“It’s not fair! Why do I have to do it?” Miwa groans, cursing her bad luck for the thousandth time.

“It is fair, you just happened to draw the short straw now go deal with it! We'll back you up.” Mai grins, knowing full well she rigged it.

Kasumi Miwa would rather be doing literally anything else at this moment. She timidly knocks on the door, and says, “Todo? Could you move all this stuff please? You’re starting to block the hallway.”

“Yeah I’ll get to it whenever I get the rest of this junk cleaned up. Don’t worry there’s no food waste so there shouldn’t be any smell.”

“B-but Todo…. It's been almost a week now…” The only response was the muted sound of shuffling.

Miwa looks back in defeat at her so-called “back up” as they peek from behind the corner. Their best bet now is to get one of the boys to convince him. And if they fail it’s straight to Utahime-sensei.

Todo looks at his room, emptier than it’s ever been. He knew this was the likeliest outcome. Takada-chan was a beloved idol, and even if she liked him back (which he thought she might have at some point) there was no way she could be with him. He knew, but it doesn't mean it hurt any less. There were years of carefully collected merch, thousands of dollars being stuffed into trash bags to be thrown away. But instead of the despair he carefully denied for years, he didn’t feel any loss throwing away all the autographed posters and pictures. No, he had something much better now, someone who could actually be with him in this wretched, boring world. He had his wonderful, gorgeous, beautiful, perfect in every way girlfriend. And while you weren’t aware that you were destined to be with him yet, he would make sure you’d know soon. As soon as he finished purging his space of Takada-chan (it wouldn’t do to have pictures of an old flame) he’d confess.

A few days later he was tying up the last trash bag, ready to enact his plan. He asked you to meet him under the largest tree in the forest on the edge of the training field. Several hypothetical scenarios floated through his mind, and he focused on the one where you’d enthusiastically said you loved him back and then he married you and had many children. As he neared the confession site, Todo felt yet another arrow go through his heart as you came into view. I’ll never get tired of seeing her.

“Todo, is everything okay? What’s up?” A shiver ran down Todo’s spine, goosebumps rising. God, even your voice was perfect.

“I love you. Promise me, y/n. That we’ll spend the rest of our lives together.” He got down on one knee like a proposal, looking up at you like a devout follower.

“Todo… I don’t know about the rest of our lives but why don’t we start with a date? I like you too.” While you were a bit taken aback by his forwardness, you brush it off as Todo being Todo. You never disliked his honesty and unabashedness.

“My girlfriend!! I knew you felt the same!” A single tear ran down Todo’s face.

Back to the dorms, it wasn’t long before everyone found out and congregated at your room to badger you with questions.

“Ugh that gorilla? You guys are dating now?” Nishimiya asked, firmly believing Todo to be an improper and inadequate boyfriend.

“I thought he only had eyes for that idol Takado or whatever,” Miwa chimes.

“It’s Takada,” Mai corrects, not able to make eye contact with Nishimiya’s suspicious glance in her direction.

“We’re dating now! He just asked me out, and he’s really good to me.” you reply, thinking of how Todo insisted on carrying you back to the dorms, gently setting you down before running off saying he needed to ‘prepare’.

“You can do way better than Todo, trust us.” The girls all nod in agreement. However, Todo is outside your room balancing a tray of perfectly cooked lunch and a cold pitcher of water.

“What are you guys talking about?” he knows already, but wants to hear them say it to his face.

“How y/n is too good for the likes of you.” Mai minces no words for Todo. With the uncomfortable tension rising, the Kyoto girls hastily make an exit.

“My love, I made lunch for us. I know I am not handsome, or come from wealth and a good sorcerer family like some of our classmates. But I will be devoted. I will never stray from you, I’d die if you asked me to.” he says, as he sets the meal on your small desk, pulling out utensils and napkins. His normal confidence seems to waver a bit, and it seems that not even Todo is immune to worrying about what other people think of him.

“Todo, don’t worry about what they say and please don’t say you’ll die for me. I like you a lot, I wouldn’t have accepted your confession if I didn’t. I also think you’re quite handsome.”

“You love me back?” he whispers, kneeling at the edge of your bed, looking up at you. While it’s a bit too early to tell, Todo’s hopeful, reverent look has you obliging him.

“I do love you back.” He embraces you, and you can hear his heartbeat in his bare chest. It feels good to be loved so wholeheartedly, and you’ll give him all the love you have to repay him.

#x reader #yandere #jujutsu kaisen #aoi todo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere x reader #todo x reader #yandere todo #aoi toudou #yandere jjk #jjk #aoi todo x reader #requested #hurt/comfort #jjk x reader #todo fluff #but also yandere bc that's just how he is in my mind

2K notes · View notes

hannie-dul-set · 2 years ago

Text

YOU(R SHOELACES) ARE PRETTY.

p — PARK SUNGHOON x gn! reader. g — fluff, meet cute. w — swearing, secondhand embarrassment because sunghoon doesn't know how to to talk to cute people. 706 words.

note — park sunghoon is a rizzless loser pass it on. PART TWO. if you enjoy loser! hoon, you might also enjoy this other series of mine.

you only came along with your friends to the skatepark because you had nothing better to do, but now you’re starting to regret that decision because for some reason— while you’re sitting on the stands all by yourself, minding your own damned business because you don’t know how to fucking skate— you’ve caught the attention of six to seven guys who don’t look very friendly.

what the hell? why are they staring? sweat starts to wet your palms as you duck down to untie and retie your shoelaces because their staring was really starting to make you uncomfortable. they look like a group of freaking delinquents. they’re definitely nothing but trouble.

but you regret taking your subtle glances off of them for a second too long because for some god damned reason, one of them started to roll up to you.

you feign ignorance, playing with the laces on your other foot because maybe he isn’t skating to your direction. maybe he’s going to make a turn to the ramps or some shit. maybe he’s just passing by and— of fuck, he’s literally three feet away from you now, and he’s got an ice cold face, and a very terrifying scowl, and he looks like he’s about to curb stomp you three feet into the ground.

he’s leering down at you with his hands in his pockets, posture leaned slightly back and confident. his thick eyebrows are slightly furrowed with a frown that’s housing a lollipop stick. he’s handsome, but he looks like he wants to fight you. he’s pretty, but he also looks like he’d call you a pretty stupid bitch. the kuromi band-aid on his cheek doesn’t make him any less intimidating. he takes out the lollipop from his with a pop!

you wince, ready to piss yourself in fear until you hear him say, “h—hey.”

his voice cracks. you look up.

“i think you’re— i think you—” you failed to notice the red staining his neck earlier, nor the sweat nervously trickling down his forehead. you should’ve known he’d be harmless from the cute bandaid decorating his cheek. all the fear you felt is melted every time he stumbles on his words, every time his cheeks grow increasingly pinker by the second, until he gives up and turns around to yell at the group he separated from to tell them to, “shut the fuck up!”

they’re cheering him on, “you can do it, sunghoon!” you’re more confused than you’ve ever been.

the guy you assume is named sunghoon snaps his head back down to face you, brows that were once knitted in annoyance quickly scrunching into a nervous jitter and he measures up a smile that matches his confidence— faltering and falling apart. you’re starting to feel bad.

“i just...i just wanted to say that i think you’re really—”

go on, you encourage him with a nod. you can do it. maybe you shouldn’t have tried to help him, because the moment you give him an assuring smile, ten million emotions flash through his face at once— shock, fluster, panic in shades of pink, rose, and cherry— until he ultimately settles with defeat when he sinks his head down with a pair of hands covering his face, but he can’t hide the color tinting his ears.

“i think...your shoelaces are pretty.”

his voice is muffled. he looks like he wants the ground to eat him.

“thank you?”

“no problem.”

sunghoon spins around, puts the lollipop back into his mouth, and kicks the ground once before letting the momentum from the roller skates slide him back to the direction where he came from, but he’s sliding slowly and pitifully enough for you to hear the, “oh god, oh no, i’m so fucking stupid, oh no—” sputtering from his mouth in quiet grumbles and hisses as his friends continue to cheer him on from a distance.

the back of his neck is still searing red. when he reaches his friends you watch as his legs give up and he sinks into the ground with a cry of anguish.

maybe you shouldn’t have judged the poor guy too quickly. maybe he just wanted to tell you that he thinks you(r shoelaces) are pretty.

YOU(R SHOELACES) ARE PRETTY.

#violently pathetic coding sunghoon anyone who disagrees can fight me for it idc idc he may be a loser but he's MY loser #enhypen x reader #enhypen sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen sunghoon imagines #park sunghoon imagines #sunghoon imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen sunghoon fluff #park sunghoon fluff #sunghoon fluff

3K notes · View notes

slutteok · 9 months ago

Text

ACE (Jeong Yunho)

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

pairing ✭ dom!gamer!yunho x sub!afab!reader

summary ✭ Yunho just wants to help you get better at valorant

content ✭ smut 18+ MDNI

word count ✭ 4.6k

warnings ✭ smut, unprotected sex, cnc if u squint kinda

tags ✭ established relationship, felching, cock warming, thigh slapping, pet play in the form of nicknames, degradation, praise, oral sex, yunho has a big dick, fluff at the end

notes ✭ please enjoy <3

◇─◇──◇─────◇──◇─◇

“can you please heal me?!” you shout into your microphone, your hands slamming down onto your desk as you die for the nth time while you are playing valorant with your friends. you grumble to yourself, and listen to your friends argue in the call. you roll your eyes and pull the headphones off your ears, setting it on your desk.

you watch as the game ends on a defeat, and you get up from your chair. your boyfriend yunho turns around in his chair, to look over at you. he pulls his headphones off and follows you into your shared kitchen.

you grab a water bottle from the fridge, cracking the seal open and taking a long drink from it. yunho, unbeknownst to you, watches with curiosity- wondering what had gotten you so worked up.

“y/n, what happened? you seem really upset.” yunho asks, walking over to you when you're done drinking water- making sure he doesn't scare you. you sigh, and look over your shoulder at him, shaking your head. he frowns, and puts his hands on your shoulders, comfortingly rubbing your shoulders and arms carefully.

“one of the stupid randoms on our team. i was so close to aceing but he refused to heal me and i ended up losing the ace because of it.” you whine softly, melting into yunho’s hands. you sigh again, and lean back against his chest.

“hey how about i teach you some pointers?” yunho offers, and your eyes widen at the thought of you highly skilled boyfriend helping you at your rank. you purse your lips together in thought before shrugging, and nodding your head.

“sure, I suppose it wouldn't be a bad idea- but it wasn't my fault I died.” you get defensive, as you take yunho’s large hands and pull them from you. you turn around, and start walking back to the office space your computers are in.

you place the water bottle on your desk, and you're about to sit down when yunho grabs your wrist, catching your attention.

“what are you doing?” you ask, with a raised eyebrow and a curious look.

“let me sit down, and i can teach you that was, okay?” yunho says, excitedly. you find it a little odd he wants to sit in your chair- you’ve watched him play valorant and league of legends thousands of times, you enjoyed watching him play, but you had been working on ranking up in valorant for so long you were a bit worried he’d accidentally boost you.

yunho doesn't wait for you, and just sits down right in his chair. he looks up at you with his big, round puppy eyes- and as always, how could you refuse him? you sit in his lap, and he pulls the two of you comfortably into your desk.

“what's your dpi?” yunho asks, and you look down at your mouse. you swallow hard and shrug your shoulders, only knowing your mouse turned green and you liked that feeling.

“green… but i liked blue too… i can't remember.” Yunho lets out a laugh, and taps the button right behind the scroll wheel, changing the color of your mouse. He does this a few times and then he takes your hand, putting it on the mouse.

“Does this feel the same?” he asks, and watches as you move the mouse around. You nod your head, and look over your shoulder at him. His lips form into a straight line before he swats your hand off your mouse and snakes his left arm around your waist. Your breath catches in your throat when his fingers graze your stomach, and you look down to see his hand resting on your keyboard.

“You’ve watched me play way more than i’ve watched you play, so why don’t you play a round, swiftplay, with your friends so i can give you pointers? Is that okay?” yunho asks, his voice calming you down from your lingering fit of frustration earlier. You sigh and nod, getting into a more comfortable position.

He groans, and his hands snap down to your hips as you adjust your position in his lap, realizing you just fully grinded your ass against him. He lets out a quick exhale, and shakes his head, moving his hands around your waist. He rests his chin on your shoulder, as you pick your headphones up and place them back on your head.

“Sorry, I was talking to Yunho, are you guys ready to queue up again?” you say into your mic after unmuting yourself, glancing over at your second monitor to see who was all in chat. You finally had 4 others to play with, so you quickly invited the 2 others to join your party before queueing up for swift play.

The game loads up, you pick your character and you wait for the game to start. You can hear your friends talking to each other, strategizing with one another, but your mind is completely blank- focused on impressing your boyfriend, but his hands that used to make their home around your waist are now firmly grabbing your hips. It doesn't help that you can feel his dick getting harder and harder against your ass.

You sigh, and try your best to stay focused on your screen but every other second or so, Yunho’s hands move. The familiar heat in your belly begins to pool, and fast too. You figured from the start of Yunho’s suggestion that maybe this would all be innocent, but that went south quickly.

Yunho watches your screen, watches you play, and would move his hands lower and lower, feeling every single inch of you he could as if he had never touched you before. You can feel his breath start to pick up as he breathes on your neck. You shiver, making him squeeze you and press you down into him.

Your eyes flutter closed for a moment at just the right second, and your character dies. You hear your friends complaining in your ears, and you bite your lip, opening your eyes to look at your monitor.

“You know, you’re supposed to shoot the bad guys when you see them, right?” Yunho teases, and you roll your eyes, clenching your jaw. Again, you try to ignore the heat pooling in your belly, and the ache in your core. You adjust yourself in his lap again, only grinding yourself into him once again, and he squeezes you, making you wince a bit.

“Yunho, stop.” you mumble, wanting to just impress your boyfriend with your gameplay but he’s distracting you, making you lose all your momentum from your earlier games where you dominated in them. Truthfully, it was about time you stepped away… you could just carry on in bed, so you quickly mute yourself. “Why don’t we just continue in bed?” you suggest, and Yunho lets out a short chuckle.

“No, this is fine. Nothing is even happening.” He refuses your suggestion, and you grimace before turning your attention back to the game.

For a while, Yunho just watches you play, his hands stay still, he doesn’t make any movements, and for a moment there, you think his dick is getting soft. You sigh in relief as ‘VICTORY’ flashes across your screen. Yunho and you look at the game end screen, looking at your stats and watching the screen go back to the lobby.

Yunho gives you absolutely no time before he grabs your mouse, flicks it to unranked, and immediately queues your entire party up for it.

“Yunho?!” you say with a startled tone, turning around to look at him. You were thankful you had a habit of muting yourself, and quickly with a shortcut on your keyboard.

“What? You used to play unranked all the time, this is no different. Plus I know you're playing with Wooyoung, and he likes unranked. Just play, and don't complain.” Yunho shuts you down immediately, and you huff, pouting a bit before turning back to your monitor to see the agent select screen. You sigh, and choose your character.

Your friend's complaints about playing the longer game mode fall onto deaf ears. All you can think about is how you're supposed to stay focused and perform well while sitting on Yunho’s lap. You look down at your lap, looking at Yunho’s hands on your thighs, his index fingers gently grazing the inner, lower part of your thighs. You shudder from his touch, and bring your attention back to your screen; you can ignore these little touches from him for now.

A few rounds in, and you managed to ignore his touches, and you're doing well. You’re in the middle of communicating with your teammates about the game when your character is shot and killed, and Yunho’s hand shoots up between your legs, his fingers pressing against you harshly, making you gasp right into your mic.

You’re just lucky enough that Yunho timed it right, otherwise you’d have to explain to your friends why you just gasped as loudly as you did. Yunho’s other hand quickly mutes your mic, and presses you down into him, making you whimper softly. He chuckles, and pulls his hand away from between your legs, you whine at the loss immediately.

“Yunho, what are you doing?” You ask, trying to look at him, but he’s quick to push your head to look at your screen. You grumble to yourself, feeling a tad bit helpless in this situation.

“Don't worry about what I'm doing, play your game and don’t make any noises.” He warns you, and your eyes widen. He grabs the bottom of your shirt, lifting it up slightly to expose the waistband of your pants. His fingers ghost along your skin, making you shiver again while a quiet moan escapes your lips. “Shut up.” He warns again, and you quickly clamp your lips shut, nodding your head before he sinks his hand into your pants.

The round ends, and you're alive again. You shakily do your buying at the start of the round, and swallow hard as Yunho unmutes your mic. Your eyes dart to your second monitor, aware of just how hard you’re breathing, and how fast your heart is beating. You can feel his fingers just barely ghosting your skin.

“Y/N TO YOUR LEFT! Omen, hit for 60!” You hear your friend shout, but it’s too late, you’re dead again. You grumble in frustration, but the feeling of Yunho’s long, slender fingers sinking inside of you quickly changes that grumble into more of a choked gasp. Your fingers quickly hit your mute button, and you instinctively press yourself against him.

“You should pay closer attention to your surroundings and keep your crosshair at head height, so you can react faster, and get headshots.” Yunho tells you in his normal voice. Your jaw drops at his words, you’re completely speechless that he’s fingering you and giving you pointers for valorant at the same time.

“You… are the worst…” You mumble under your breath. He chuckles, and shrugs, his shoulders. He pulls his fingers out of you, dragging his fingers between your folds, and pressing the pads of his fingers into your clit harshly, making you jolt- a moan trapped in your throat.

“Am I? That’s not a very nice thing to say to me. Aren’t I making you feel good?” He croons, and you feel your knees start to shake. He uses both of his hands to spread your legs, hooking them around his legs to keep you open for him. He presses himself up against you, and you choke on a moan.

he glances at your screen for a moment, seeing the round hasn't ended yet. he smirks, lifting you up easily with one hand and yanking his sweatpants down, his hard dick springing out. he groans softly, before reaching around you.

“do you like these leggings?” he asks you, and your open your mouth to speak, but you're promptly interrupted by the sound of fabric ripping, and the cold air hitting your now exposed thigh and core making you shiver.

“jeong yunho!” you gasp, turned around to look back at him.

“shut up, i'll buy you a better pair.” he grins at you, before grabbing your hips and pulling you back into his lap. you gasp again, grabbing your desk for some sort of balance.

“fuck, yunho, what are you doing?” you ask him, watching as his hand moves around you again. you watch as his fingers disappear under the fabric of your leggings before pulling them again- tearing them more.

“giving myself more access to you.” he grumbles, looking at your screen. he moves his left hand to your back, pushing you off of his chest and closer to the desk. “try shooting the bad guy this time, okay?” he whispers in your ear, his breath ticking your neck- you shiver in response. “make sure to stay quiet.” he adds on, pressing a light kiss to your cheek.

you whine softly before he unmutes you again.

“y/n what's gotten into you? are you okay?” you hear one of your friends speak, but you're so focused on trying to focus that you can’t help but feel how every part of yunho is touching you right now, and how he’s just *there.*

“i’m fine.” you manage to croak out, before yunho raises you by your hips again. you oblige, not trying to do anything that would result in him punishing you. yunho holds you there, watching and waiting, and you can feel the tip of his dick pressed against your entrance. you involuntarily press against him, but he pushes you away before moving you back into the same position.

“liar.” yunho mumbled from behind you, you turn your head to face him, and right at the moment- your character goes down again, and so do you.

“oh fuck!” you shout out, grabbing your desk violently as yunho pulls you down onto him so fast your body has no time to adjust to his large size at all. you glance at him and he smirks at you, happy with himself. you sneer at him, before turning back to try and focus on the game.

yunho doesn't mind you ignoring him, he’s happy where he is; fully seated inside of you. you feel his arms wrap around your waist, and you relax in his arms for a second. only a second though, because you slam the button to mute your mic as he bounces you up and down on his dick.

“good girl,” he growls into your ear, making you whimper, and shudder from his breathing down your neck. your eyes are shut so tightly, and you're holding your moans back, you don't even realize another round has started, until yunho slaps your thigh, making you jolt.

you widen your eyes, and you bite your lip, keeping your lip from trembling as you are now extra careful of every movement you make, and extra aware of the way yunho feels inside of you- stretching you so beautifully.

“y/n behind you! jett hit for 60, and phoenix hit for 40!” wooyoung shouts, you spin your camera around and right as you start to shoot, yunho lifts you up just a bit, and starts slowly fucking up into you. you gasp, your eyes closing immediately and … down goes your character again.

“yunho,” you breathe, your hands coming off your keyboard and mouse. he looks at you, then groans, moving his hands to your hips, and squeezing them as he holds you in place and fucks up into you faster. your eyes dart to your discord, ensuring you're still muted by purposefully bumping your mic. the icon never lights up, thankfully, and you finally let out the moan you’ve been holding back out.

yunho’s eyes widen, and he laughs, shaking his head as he slows down again, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you back against his chest.

“you're so fucking wet for me, puppy.” he mumbles into your ear again, making you shiver. his hands move from around your waist, to pressing against your back, sitting you back up. you want to just let everything out- fuck the game, fuck your friends, there's just nothing you wanted more than to get fucked senseless by your boyfriend but there was just no way in hell he’d let it be that easy- not for you at least.

“yun,” you whine, and he silences you with just a glance, making you look forward again. you grumble to yourself, resuming your position at your desk all the while Yunho holds you up, and watches himself slowly fuck you, his fingernails digging into your sides.

“Killjoy dead, Reyna 30, but she healed.” you mumble into your microphone before muting it again. Yunho glances at your screens, then forces you back down, making you moan again.

“god- y/n, fuck-” Yunho sighs, pushing his hair out of his face. he continues to fuck up into you, his pace getting faster and faster with each second, grabbing a fistful of your hair and tugging on it. your moans sound like a beautiful symphony to him, no matter how quiet or loud they were; as long as they came from your pretty little mouth and lips, he didn't care what sound you were making.

“yun… fuck,” you let out a broken moan, making him chuckle quietly.

“so good for me, puppy.” he croons at you, admiring the pure beauty of pleasure on your face as he continues to fuck into you at a punishing pace. “So pretty.” he whispers, pulling you back into him, your back arching in response- a moan escaping your lips, before he plants another kiss on your cheek.

He pushes you back into an upright position, his hand leaving your hair and resting on your hips again as another round starts. You groan in frustration, wanting more from him but you knew your orgasm was still so far away. You were only 20 minutes into a 40 minute game, and the score was tied- this could easily become a match that lasts 50 to 60 minutes; which mean Yunho could torture you for just that long too.

You unmute your mic, and stare directly at your screen, trying to ignore how good Yunho felt, how good he was making you feel with his slow, agonizing strokes. He was getting sloppy with his thrusts, and you could tell he was close to finishing. You clench your muscles around him, and feel his body twitch, and he mumbles something under his breath.

After a few seconds, you start to get used to the feeling of Yunho’s slow movements, and it becomes a dull feeling while you focus on your round- you’re doing well, and yunho’s letting you focus on the task at hand for now.

Once your team wins the round, you sigh in relief, waiting for the game to switch teams. You lean back a little, and Yunho mutes your mic again, pushing your headphones off your head- his sudden actions leave you in a dazed surprise. Yunho picks you up, standing up from your chair, your bodies still connected.

“Yunho! I’m still in the match!” You protest, but he doesn’t respond. Instead he just pulls you from him and lightly tosses you on your shared bed.

“Don’t care.” He grumbles, climbing on top of you and kissing you firmly, and harshly. Despite your protest, you melt into him instantly. He grabs your thigh, lifting your leg up before pushing himself back into you, making you moan into his mouth. He groans in response, his fingers digging into your plushy flesh, hooking his other hand around your leg, folding you up under him as he pushes himself as deep as he can into you.

“Jesus christ,” he groans, looking down at you, then back at your monitor. “It’s a good thing you’re not playing ranked, huh?” he looks back down at you, and you open your eyes to give him a disapproving look.

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes, and Yunho laughs, leaning back down and capturing your lips with his. He runs his hands down the backside of your thighs, before squeezing your flesh. The grip he had was sure to leave a bruise. He moves his right hand from your thighs, pressing his fingers into your lower abdomen, making you squirm a little under him. He sighs happily against your lips as he pulls away, admiring how you look under him.

“You’re so pretty with my dick inside you,” he growls, and your body immediately feels as if it's on fire. You let out a moan, your head falling back onto the bed as Yunho slides out of you, slamming back into you. Your fingers find their home in the bedsheets, and Yunho leans back over you, attaching his lips to your neck, nibbling lightly on the flesh, leaving you to whimper against his ear while he starts to speed his thrusts up.

He sneaks his left arm around your back, wrapping it around you tightly, while raising his left hand to hold the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair. Your hands leave the bedsheets, and hook around his shoulders as you feel him fill every single part of you, leaving no space between your bodies.

You can feel the knot growing in your stomach, and you squirm under him more, making him tighten his grip on you so much that now you can’t even move your hips to meet his. Your complaints are nothing more than short whines and whimpers, as he pounds into you with a punishing pace and force, leaving your head hazy and your body trembling from pure pleasure.

“F-fuck,” you moan under your breath, your fingers grabbing at the fabric of his shirt, bunching it up in your hands. Your hips helplessly buck up into his, and he pulls his head away to look down at your helpless, pitiful, fucked out state already. “Y-you’re so big…” you manage to whimper out.

Yunho’s eyes widen, and his body jolts at your words, and in a matter of seconds, you can feel his dick twitch inside you followed by warm liquid spilling inside you, making you let out a choked moan.

“Oh my god.” Yunho says in a state of shock, still looking down at you with his lips curled into a smile. You can’t help but giggle at his expression, and you watch as something flips in his brain. He pulls all the way out of you, looking down at where your bodies connect before groaning, and slamming into you again; a broken cry leaving your lips.

He continues to pull out of you, and thrusts back in, over and over. He pulls his hands away from around you, standing up right, and dragging his hands down your abdomen until his right hand sits on your belly. His thumb caresses your skin, before moving down to your sensitive clit, brushing it lightly, making your body jump at his touch.

“So eager to get back to your game?” Yunho asks, his tone lingering in your ears as he hisses the words out. You shake your head, and gasp as he presses his thumb harshly into your clit again. You let out another broken cry, as he starts to thrust into you harder and faster, while his thumb rubs tight, fast circles on your clit making your entire body go limp with pleasure.

You can feel your orgasm just ready to break free when he pulls out of you. You gasp, sitting up and looking at him with an almost offended face. He laughs, but gets down on his knees, immediately putting his face between your legs, and connecting his mouth onto your clit. Your head falls back immediately, and you cry out in pleasure. Your right hand grabs a fistfull of his hair, and your legs start to lock up. He pushes them apart, and slides his middle and ring finger into you, pumping and curling them at a pace that was just unbearable. He sucks your clit harshly, before pulling away and sliding his tongue between your folds, and attaching his mouth back onto your clit.

“Fuck fuck fuck.” you cry out again, feeling like you were going to burst into flames. Just a little more and you’d be cumming all over his hand and face. He smiles against you, and continues to work his fingers, mouth and tongue on you.

Your body tenses up, and suddenly, your body pulsates around Yunho’s fingers, moaning out his name, and he pulls away to watch your body tremble. You lift your head to look at him, and notice a mix of saliva and your wetness along his mouth and chin, and you can’t help but feel a little shy.

“You should learn how to keep this in here better, I think.” Yunho mumbles, pulling his fingers out of you, and showing them off to you. They were covered in a mix of your own, and his cum, and you could feel yourself clench around nothing. He giggles, and looks up at you, still holding his hand out to you. You eye his fingers, then look down at him, then back at his fingers.

“What do you want me to do with that?” you ask, innocently, genuinely not sure what he meant.

“Clean it off.” He states, casually, as if he was just asking a normal request. Your eyes fly open, and Yunho extends his hand closer to you. You silently groan, before grabbing his wrist and clamping your lips around Yunho’s fingers. You try to hide your genuine discomfort at the taste of your fluids mixed together, but the thought of it also made it worth it. Your tongue quickly laps up the fluids, and he slowly slides his fingers out of your mouth and smiles proudly at you when you swallow. “Good girl.” He praises you, reaching up and gently patting your head.

You relax a bit at his praise, watching as he stands up, pulling his pants back up. He steps away from you, to your desk. He types something in your discord, before exiting discord, the game, then shutting your pc down. He grabs your water bottle and walks over to you, handing it to you. You thank him, taking it from him and taking a sip. He leans down again and kisses the top of your head.

“Let’s shower, and we can go out and I'll buy you any clothes you want.” He offers, and your eyes light up, and you jump to your feet, a bit wobbly. He grabs you, and steadies you, giggling. “Okay, I take that as a yes.” He laughs, as he guides you to the bathroom.

“Yes please.” You giggle in response, watching him carefully take your clothes off. He always tried his hardest to be kind after sex with you, he didn’t want to overstimulate you or cause any sort of discomfort or pain.

“And we can go out and get dinner, maybe stop by the store and get some snacks, and drinks? How does that sound?” He asks, as he helps hold you steady while taking your leggings off. You sigh, and can’t help fight the smile growing on your lips. You nod once more, resting your hand on his head for stability.

“Sounds like the best time ever.” You admit truthfully, watching as Yunho discards your leggings into the trash, before pulling your shirt over your head.

“Good, cause I’ll always want to give my love everything they desire.” He whispers gently, leaning forward and placing a soft, loving kiss on your lips. He caresses your cheeks, then pats your head, before turning around and running the water.

You could swear if you died right now, you’d die happy. As long as he was there with you, you’d always be happy.

#ateez smut #ateez yunho #yunho ateez #ateez x reader #ateez #yunho smut #yunho x reader #jeong yunho #atz x reader #atz imagines #atz smut

769 notes · View notes