#hes gonna crumble to dust.................
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dream or nightmare
#clara oswald#clara oswin oswald#oswin oswald#twelfth doctor#12th doctor#doctor who#whouffaldi#twelveclara#new who#my art#hes gonna crumble to dust.................#barcel ily 4 sending me that tweet x
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i just need my rook to be emmrich’s controversial younger girlfriend and i will be happy. sorry
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ok but since i've been liveblogging the shrimpin situation anyway i have a few updates – weee went to the clinic again bc i was very sure that he hadn't taken a piss (i called them and they told me i should bring him back) so i had to give him the sedative again and then take him there. aaaand we did all of that just for them to tell me that he DID in fact take a piss. 😐😐😐 WHICH IS GOOD i'm just mad at myself that i dragged him there just for that...... but better to be safe than sorry ok........... and luckily he does not seem mad he's very touchy and friendly and sleepy rn and i love him sm
AAAANDDD just to confirm that he really doesn't have a peeing problem – he did go and take a piss now!!!! yayy!!!! guyss i'm making a post abt my cat taking a piss!!!!!!!!!!!!
ALSOOOOOO i think we should all pet him until he melts bc he did soooso good at the vet today:((((((((
#i DO have another problem though😐😐#he does not wanna eat the medicine#we did crumble it up idk if that's the right word but we made it into Dust alright#and then put it inside his wet food#but#he doesn't want it#and it's not like he isn't hungry either he ate his dry food like a maniac#SIGHHHHHHHHHH#my poor babyy#i really do love him sm#aaaand i really haven't done anything other than stare at him all day#it's so hot here too i feel very drained from this hustle#so i don't think i'm gonna be writing all that much rn#EVEN BIGGER SIGHHHHHH#love u all mwah mwah#mayor of loserville
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Spacie I found yo man in a garage sell

HIS EYES ARE BULGING OUT OF HIS SOCKETS
#DUDE HOLY SHIT#THEY'RE GONNA FUCKING FALL OUT OF HIS HEAD#HE LOOKS SO FUCKING UGLY 😭😭😭 (he is this is canon)#spacie splains#GOOD LIRD HE GON CRUMBLE TA DUST
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I just think they’d be an interesting duo
#Crossover#I guess???#fnaf#ut#five nights at freddy's#undertale#michael afton#chara dreemurr#i think we’re gonna have to kill this guy#i have many incoherent thoughts about these two but I can draw is this meme#Chara: And then he crumbled to dust on the flowers#Mike: Cowabummer#< how I imagine the dynamic in my head
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ITS YOUR BITFDAY???
HAPPY BIRTHDAY OLD PERSON! DONT BREAK UR BACK!!
Fun fact! It's also his birthday :3
David fucking Chiem :3
IM OLD!!!!!!!!!!! bro my back already feels like its been broken for the past like 4 years.
also omg i cant believe i share a birthday with david chiem <- person who doesnt know who he is
#ask#kat-the-milgram-fan#kat#he's from that dr fan project right?#is it a fangame?#anyways hooray im 22 now#any minute now im gonna crumble to dust and blow away
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idk what conclave is about but who needs it when you can just watch the pope die in real time
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baby fever
capt. john price
cw: smut/pwp, dirty talk, breeding/pregnancy, filthy, husband!price, slight age gap (reader is early 20s, price late 30s), military formal wear, oral (m receiving), doggy style, unprotected
bunny says: i thought about built/chubby price and him in his military formals and my brain turned off. this was the end result.
price wasn't beating the bear allegations. while he wasn't a gay bear, he knew that there were a lot of women who loved his physique. dusting of hair, built but enjoyed a good sunday roast. thick fingers and broad tongue. he was a built man after his years of service.
but if price had to pin you as an animal, it would be his little chickadee. small and fragile with a cute little song. the most loveliest thing he had ever laid his eyes on. no wonder within a year of dating, you were already engaged.
price knew when he had a good thing going and didn't want to ruin it. you were still in university, but he'd never make his darling girl quit school for his sake.
"'ey, love." he said as he walked past you on your laptop. he leaned in and kissed the side of your neck, "studyin' well?"
you looked over and smiled at him, "of course, big bear." you took him by the face and kissed him on the cheek. your engagement ring gleamed in the light of the living room.
but even the brightest university students could easily crumble against a man like price. it didn't help that there was a spike in your baby fever. it was almost embarrassing when you watched price in the living room, shining his uniform boots. it also didn't help when he was making sure that formal attire still fit.
he noticed you staring, you didn't try to hide it.
he stood there in front of the full length mirror in your shared bedroom. the beret, the jacket, the medals. hands on his hips as he looked at you. he smiled, his eyes crinkled at the sight of your jaw almost on the floor.
"tryin' to see if everythin' still fit. need to go back to the gym, your cookin' is gonna be the death of me, love." he chuckled. he dragged his tongue across his top teeth and said, "now that i know, why don't ya help me get out of it."
maybe a man in uniform was your (not-so) secret kink. you've seen him in everything under the sun, but every time it still made your throat dry. you were in your sunday pajamas, paired with fuzzy slippers.
he reached out for you, "ya like when i'm dressed like this, huh?" he chuckled as he tilted his head down to kiss the top of your head.
"i mean." you said, "you look good." you blushed a little bit more and looked away from him, but he took you by the chin to look at him. those blue eyes peered into yours.
"don't be shy, love." he said, "i like when ya stare."
you held onto the front of his jacket, the thick material felt heavy in your grasp. you could feel the wetness between your legs. damn price. you said, "you look good, big bear."
he reached down and took a handful of your ass, "and you look even better, my chickadee. now c'mon, undress yer man." then licked his top lip at the sight of your delicate hands trying to undo the formal jacket. he then took you by the head again and said, "pants first." then helped you onto your knees.
you swallowed and looked up at him. if anyone looked inside, they'd see a weird power dynamic. but all price saw was an eager little birdie trying to get her hands on her husband.
"those medals look nice." you said as he reached for his belt.
he chuckled, "not as nice as your lips on my cock." then dragged a hand through your hair. the belt soon came off as his pants were unzipped. he was thankful that he knew how to get any stains out of his uniform, because he knew you were a messy girl.
you took his cock out of his slacks. it stood was full attention and even after all this time together, the sight of it was still arousing. cut, thick, a deep pink (not quite red) and almost eight inches in length. you once joked it was a "porno dick".
you kissed the underside of it with such warmth that it made the man shudder. then started the slow, small licks against the shaft. you chuckled to yourself at the feeling of his cock under your tongue. he felt like a dream.
"that's a good girl. my darlin' girl." he said with a hint of pride in his voice. he loved the sight of you on his knees. even if the sweat down his back was making the heavy jacket more uncomfortable.
you stroked the base of his cock with one hand while you put your mouth fully on the tip. you teased it with wet strokes of you tongue. you could hear the gruff noise your husband made.
you squirmed a little while on your knees and could feel a dull throb between your legs. price's cock was an impressive sight and a task to fully get in your mouth.
"ya got a small mouth, love.' he remarked jokingly, "too small for all of this. but i know you'll do your best.' he combed his fingers through your hair once more before it rested on the back of your head.
he supported your head while you continued to orally pleasure him. he loved his woman on her knees in front of him. while he held you in high regard, he thought you were the sweetest things since strawberries on cake, but there was something about seeing HIS woman like this.
you looked up at him and a groan got caught in his throat. you gave him a cute little wink before you continued to stroke him off. your other hand was on his strong thigh for support as you pleasured him.
"oh sweet fuck." he groaned.
you knew you'd never take all of him in your throat but you made the most of what you could. his cock was heavy in your mouth as you continued to move your head.
he gripped the back of your head, he felt hot all over as pleasure pumped through his veins. he loved his girl, his darling sweet angel. yeah the age difference was to raise an eyebrow at. but if they knew the angel he managed to get a ring on, they'd understand.
his little chickadee.
you looked up at him once more. the way he looked down at you with a guiding hand on the back of your head. you pulled your mouth off his cock and looked up at him with your tongue out of your mouth.
"fuckin' doll eyes." he said, "get back to what you were doin', i want to see you take every last drop."
you once again went back to orally pleasuring him. your hand dug into the meat of his thigh as you tried to take more of his cock in your throat. the noises that came from your husband made your core ache.
the bright pink in his cheeks made you smile as he messed up with hair with his broad hands. he felt so big next to you. his little precious wife doing everything in her power to get him off.
with a few more thrusts of your head with his cock nudging the back of your throat. you moved to keep the tip against your tongue as he came down your throat. you didn't want to choke on his cum but you savored every last salty drop.
maybe a man in uniform did things to you.
when you pulled away, you looked up at him. "i want you, john." you said as you licked your lips and wiped your chin with the back of your hand, "i want to have your babies." the baby fever was thrumming in your veins, "fuck me, big bear."
he raised an eyebrow, "babies, huh? i thought you wanted to be a working woman." he said cheekily.
you rose to your feet, your legs were shaky as you grabbed him by the front of his uniform jacket and kissed him deeply. you almost toppled over him but he held you by the middle for support. when you pulled away, you panted as you said, "breed me price, or i'll find someone else to do it."
his expression darkened, "don't be sayin' things like that, love." he pulled you close to him. his cock was still hard between you two, "you better not run off with some runt." he kissed your heated cheek, "now face down, ass up, chickadee."
you pulled away from him and turned towards the bed. you shredded your clothes and almost threw yourself onto the large mattress. your face against the pillow with your back arched and hips raised.
you felt the bed sink soon after with your husband's large hands on your hips and his cock rested against your ass.
"your uniform." you squeaked.
"i'll iron it tonight." he replied, "right now, my darlin' girl needs her pussy fucked." his vulgar language made a shiver run through you.
when he bottomed out into your pussy, you felt the air escape your lungs. you clutched onto the pillow. he got a perfect view of your backside, his gaze felt hungry against you.
"please."
"my darlin' girl." price said softly. he leaned in and kissed you on the shoulder. you felt like a tight heat around him. "my beautiful wife." price adored that you were his wife. that you decided to marry him, now he got to feel up your beautiful figure every moment.
"god, john." you moaned, "was it always this damn big?"
he chuckled lowly, "you make me hard, love. i see ya and i just go wild." he then started to kiss at your shoulders and neck.
you held onto the pillow and panted in the pillows. you felt the sweat at your back as you were fucked. you panted into the fabric and felt your husband thrust into you.
"sweeter than jam and more fuckable than a toy." he chuckled lowly as he began to pick up the pace. he could feel your heat under him, you were a dream in his eyes.
the precious wife to be a beloved captain, almost twenty years her senior. the bed creaked under your movements and the sweet sounds of your sex filled the air. it was also joined by your sweet noises that encouraged your husband to keep fucking you.
you felt hot all over as the man fucked you. the pleasure rolled through your body as you moved against the bed. you panted and moaned into the pillow and let your husband thrust into you.
"my sweet girl." he purred.
"please, john." you whined.
the sex between you two felt hot, like you were on a knife's edge as he rutted against you. you could feel the heat pool in your gut as he moved against you. sweat clung to your chest and neck. your hair stuck against your skin.
"that's it." he murmured. his cock throbbed inside of you.
your love making continued, you pushed the hair out of your eyes the more he fucked you from behind. your hands were deep in the pillow as you moaned into the fabric.
price loved the sight of you. he just thought that you looked amazing, HIS girl was like this under him. he was your big strong bear and he loved the sight of you under him. just a dream to him. his heat raced in his hairy chest as he placed more weight on you.
"shit, john." you groaned.
"I got ya. i'll be finishin' in ya soon. give ya all the babes you want." he chuckled as he kissed your heated cheek. his thrusts were quick and made you see stars behind your lids.
you were heated all over and your head was swimming. you panted wildly into the bed and with a few more strokes of his cock, you came around him.
price groaned at intense heat around his cock. he went as fast as he could and felt the sweat down his toned back. he pressed himself further into you and finished.
his cum shot to the back of your cunt and you let out a pleased noise. his pace slowed down until he stopped and pulled out. he wiped the sweat from his forehead and scratched his hairy chest, "how's that, love?"
you laid fully flat on the bed and nodded your head, "we're going to have to keep goin' though, big bear. you've done so much damage to yourself that your swimmers aren't as strong as they used to be." so you rolled onto your back and reached for him, "c'mon. fuck me again."
he chuckled as he leaned back on his heels and stroked his cock, "of course chickadee. anythin' for ya."
#bunny writes#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#reader insert#call of duty smut#call of duty x reader#price mw2#captain john price#john price#captain john price smut#john price smut#price smut#cod modern warfare#captain price#price#john price x reader#price x you#captain price x reader#price x reader
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silver springs
summary: years after the outbreak, joel keeps seeing someone who shouldn't be alive, just a glimpse, always disappearing before he can be sure. on the road to jackson, a masked stranger steps out of the shadows, gun raised, eyes too familiar to ignore.
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
notes: i love love love reunion fics, let me know if you guys like it! i would love to take any requests you have too! <3



The first time Joel saw her, he thought he was losing his damn mind.
It was in Boston years after the world had ended when he spotted a figure slipping between two crumbling buildings. The street was crowded, loud, bodies pressing against each other as people bartered and argued over scraps. But everything else faded the moment he saw her.
His breath caught. His heart slammed against his ribs.
It couldn't be.
Joel shoved his way through the market, ignoring the curses thrown his way, eyes locked on the spot where she had disappeared. His pulse roared in his ears as he turned the corner, boots skidding against the broken pavement.
But she was gone.
Just a ghost in the ruins. Another cruel trick of his memory.
Then it happened again. And again.
Always fleeting. Always just out of reach.
A silhouette in the firelight of a raider camp. A shadow disappearing around a corner in an abandoned QZ. Every time, he told himself it was nothing. Just someone who looked like her. Some stranger with her same gait, her same hair.
It was easier than the alternative.
Easier than believing she had been here all along, just beyond his grasp.
Easier than believing he had lost her twice.
────୨ৎ────
The wind howled through the trees, cutting through layers of fabric and sinking deep into the bone. Joel pulled his coat tighter, keeping a hand near his revolver as he and Ellie made their way through the frozen landscape.
They were close to Jackson now.
Joel could feel it.
Ellie trudged ahead, boots crunching against the ice-covered dirt. “You ever been to Wyoming before?” she asked, breath curling in the cold air.
Joel huffed. “No.”
She kicked a rock down the path. “Think Tommy’s gonna be happy to see you?”
He exhaled through his nose. “Guess we’ll find out.”
Ellie snorted. “Sounds promising.”
She was quiet for a moment before she spoke again, voice more careful this time.
“So… that picture.”
Joel’s brows furrowed. “What?”
Ellie hesitated. “The Polaroid. The one in your bag. With you and—”
Joel cut her off with a sharp look. “Drop it.”
She frowned. “C’mon, man. I saw it.”
Joel clenched his jaw, his shoulders going stiff. “Ain’t nothin’ to talk about.”
Ellie huffed. “Sure doesn’t seem like nothing.”
Because she had seen it.
The faded Polaroid buried at the bottom of his bag, edges worn soft from years of being handled. Sarah had taken it back before everything fell apart.
Joel stood in the frame, arm wrapped tight around Y/n’s waist, his head tilted just slightly as he looked at her. Not at the camera. At her. And Y/n, she had been smiling, really smiling, wide and bright. Ellie had never seen Joel look like that before, happy.
And now, he was acting like it didn’t exist.
Joel didn’t answer. Didn’t look at her. Just kept his gaze fixed ahead, hands curled into tight fists at his sides.
Ellie sighed, kicking another rock. “Fine. Whatever.”
But she wasn’t stupid.
Whoever she was, whoever had taken that picture, had captured that moment, she mattered.
More than Joel was willing to admit.
────୨ৎ────
Then snap.
Joel stilled.
Ellie went rigid beside him, both of them drawing their weapons in a single, practiced motion.
The trees loomed over them, dark and endless, the wind shifting through the branches.
Then movement.
A figure stepped forward, their boots crunching against the frozen ground. They wore a thick coat, dusted with frost, a rifle slung across their back. But it was the mask that set Joel’s teeth on edge. It covered everything but their eyes, worn, tattered, like it had been pulled from the wreckage of a life long gone.
“Drop the guns,” the figure said.
The voice was muffled, but something about it made Joel’s stomach turn.
Ellie stiffened. “I don’t think so.”
Joel barely heard her.
Because suddenly, none of this felt real.
His grip tightened on his gun. The wind cut sharp through the trees, but his body burned, his blood pounding as something ancient and wrong crawled up his spine.
He knew that voice.
His throat felt tight. “Take off the mask.”
The figure hesitated.
Then, slowly, they reached up, fingers trembling just slightly, and pulled it away.
Joel’s world stopped.
It was her.
Older, leaner, sharpened by the years, by the fight. But still her. The same eyes that had haunted him for two decades.
A breath punched from his chest, like something had reached inside and squeezed the air from his lungs.
Ellie’s voice broke through the silence, barely above a whisper.
“Oh my god.”
Joel didn’t move. Couldn’t. His feet felt rooted to the ground, his mind reeling as he stared at the impossible.
His hands twitched at his sides, aching to reach for her. To hold her. But she didn’t move.
The rifle was still firm in her hands, the barrel not pointed at him, but not lowered either.
“Y/n,” he breathed, stepping forward.
She stepped back.
His chest tightened.
She was looking at him like she wasn’t sure if he was real. Like he was something fragile, something impossible. Like if she blinked, he might disappear.
His voice wavered. “It’s me.”
She shook her head, lips parted, her breath shaky in the cold air.
Joel took another step forward.
And she took another step back.
His heart pounded as he reached for her rifle not yanking, not forcing just wrapping his fingers over it, solid and warm.
Her grip resisted for just a moment. A moment of hesitation, of silent disbelief, of fear that if she let go, this would all shatter into nothing.
Then her fingers loosened.
And the rifle fell between them, landing in the snow with a muffled thud.
Joel’s breath came ragged, his chest tight with something too big to name.
Y/n stared at him, wide-eyed, lips parted. Her hands twitched at her sides before slowly, hesitantly, one of them reached up.
Fingers ghosted over his jaw, tracing the scruff, the rough lines of his face. Over the creases in his forehead, the sharp edge of his cheekbone.
Like she was memorizing him.
Like she was afraid he would vanish if she didn’t.
Joel swallowed hard, his throat burning.
“‘M real,” he rasped.
Her breath hitched. Her fingers trembled as they pressed against his skin, as if expecting them to go right through.
A tear slipped down her cheek, and her lips parted like she was about to say something, maybe his name, maybe a curse, maybe nothing at all, before she was moving.
And Joel was catching.
His arms wrapped around her, locking her against him, holding her so damn tight he could barely breathe.
She gasped softly, fingers curling into the fabric of his coat, gripping desperately, as if she was afraid to let go.
Joel buried his face in her hair, squeezing his eyes shut, breathing her in.
“I thought I lost you,” he murmured, voice breaking.
Her body shuddered against him. She clenched her fists tighter in his coat, pressing her forehead to his shoulder.
“I looked for you,” she choked out. “Everywhere.”
The words shattered something inside him.
Because there was pain in them. Guilt, regret, love.
And just like that, all those years of silence, of searching, of ghosts and longing.
They collapsed.
Into the warmth of her body against his. Into the way she whispered his name like it hurt.
Joel clutched her impossibly closer, afraid to let go.
Afraid that if he did, she might vanish all over again.
#angst#fanfic#fanfiction#fluff#joel miller#joel miller angst#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller fluff#joel miller x reader#pedro pascal#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal angst#pedro pascal fluff#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal fanfiction
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Summary: fluffy, domestic grumpy Joel drabble—he finds you after a trail ride with Ellie, acting all huffy like you were gone for days instead of a few hours. But for all his grumbling, he can’t seem to keep his hands off you, sneaking in every touch he can while you untack your horse.
I had this dream last night and after getting done with my morning shift at the barn (yes im a tried and true horse girl) I had to get home to write it asap. I really hope you guys don't mind my random stream of consciousness fluff ideas because I don't plan on stopping
The sun was dipping behind the mountains when you and Ellie rode back into Jackson, the warm glow stretching long shadows across the main road. The ride had been good—brisk air, the scent of pine, the rhythmic drum of hooves against the dirt. Ellie had been chatty, as always, rambling about how she totally could’ve shot that deer quicker if you’d just let her.
You laughed, nudging your horse forward as the gates swung open, and right there—like he had been waiting, though he’d never admit it—was Joel.
His arms were crossed, his mouth set in that usual line of perpetual disapproval, but the second his eyes landed on you, something softened. It was quick, a flash of warmth before he scowled at Ellie instead. “Took you long enough,” he grumbled.
Ellie huffed as she swung off her horse. “We weren’t exactly in a hurry, old man.”
“Obviously,” he muttered, though his gaze flicked back to you, sweeping over you like he was checking for any sign of trouble.
You grinned as you slid off your horse, your boots hitting the ground. Before you could even brush the dust off your pants, Joel was there, his hands bracketing your waist as he pulled you in. His lips pressed firm against yours, warm, familiar, and entirely unapologetic despite the fact that Ellie was loudly gagging in the background.
“Oh my God, can you guys not?” she groaned, dragging her horse toward the stables.
Joel ignored her, his thumb tracing along your cheek as he reluctantly pulled away, his voice gruff but low just for you. “Go get cleaned up. I got the horse.”
You tilted your head at him with a teasing smile pulling at your lips. “I'm perfectly capable to untack my own horse,”
Joel exhaled through his nose, already shaking his head. “Never said you weren't.”
“But I want to.” You met his gaze, steady and unwavering, knowing exactly how this would go.
He held your stare, jaw ticking, that stubborn streak flaring like he was about to tell you to get your ass home. But you saw it—the way his resolve crumbled almost immediately. Joel never really fought you on anything, not when you looked at him like that, not when he’d do just about anything to make you happy.
With a sigh, he muttered, “Stubborn woman,” before stepping back and nodding toward the stable. “Fine. But you brush 'em down. My back ain't gonna put up with that tonight.”
You beamed, looping your arm through his as you led your horse inside, and though he grumbled about how he was too old for this, you saw the way his fingers lingered against yours, like he had missed you the entire time you were gone.
The scent of hay and leather wrapped around you like something familiar and safe as you entered the stables with your horse in tow. Ellie was already tending to Shimmer, loudly talking about how next time she’d take you to a cool spot by the creek she found, but you weren’t paying her much mind. Joel was right behind you, keeping close, as if he still wasn’t convinced you’d made it back in one piece.
You pulled your saddle off and hoisted it over the railing, rolling your shoulders to ease the weight. Joel moved beside you, unclipping the bridle from your horse, his touch careful as he slipped the worn leather over her ears. “Good boy,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing a rough palm against the gelding’s neck. His hand brushed against yours as he stepped past, slow and deliberate, like he was making sure you felt it.
It was such a small touch, but it sent warmth curling up your spine.
“You do the brushin',” he murmured, voice low beside you. “I’ll put this away.”
You huffed a soft laugh. “Delegating, huh?”
“Yeah,” he said, deadpan, though the corner of his mouth twitched. “Gotta keep you in line somehow.”
You shot him an unimpressed look. “Oh, that’s what this is? You think you’re in charge?”
Joel gave a low huff, shaking his head as he passed behind you, his hand dragging slow along your waist. “Ain’t no thinkin’ about it, sweetheart.”
You smirked, brushing your horse with a little extra purpose. “Mm-hmm. Keep telling yourself that, Miller.”
That earned you a sharp look, but it didn’t have a single ounce of bite. He moved past you, close enough that his palm landed at your lower back, just for a moment, a quick press of warmth before he was gone. Always touching, always making sure you were there, close enough to reach.
You picked up the brush and started working through your horse’s coat, sweeping in long, even strokes while it grazed on its hay. Joel returned a moment later, settling in the stall, already working the leather cleaner into the seat of the saddle on the railing. But every time you passed near him—every time you shifted to reach another spot—his hands found you. A steadying palm on your hip. A slow drag along the small of your back. Fingers curling at your elbow, thumb smoothing over the inside of your wrist. You wondered if he was even trying to help or just wanted to stare.
“Y’know,” you mused, keeping your tone casual even as heat bloomed under every touch, “you could help.”
“I am helpin’,” he said, completely serious. “Cleanin' yer damn tack. Supervisin’.”
You shot him a look. “Uh-huh.”
Joel exhaled a slow breath, like you were really putting him through it, and finally relented. He stepped behind you, so close his chest pressed against your back as he reached around you to grab another brush. Instead of moving away, he stayed there, caging you in with warm, steady hands.
“Like this,” he murmured, guiding your hand with his own, their weight pressing down together against the horse’s coat.
You swallowed hard, heart knocking against your ribs. “You think I don’t know how to brush a horse, Miller?”
He smirked, his breath warm against the side of your face. “Just makin’ sure.”
You scoffed, but your voice came out softer than you meant it to. He was teasing you, but you could feel the way he lingered, the way he soaked up every second of being this close, like he’d been waiting for it.
Ellie made a disgusted noise from across the aisle. “Are you guys seriously flirting while brushing a horse?”
Joel barely even glanced her way. “Go home, Ellie.”
She groaned, muttering something about old people being gross as she grabbed her stuff and left. But you barely noticed. Joel’s hand was still over yours, fingers brushing slow circles into your skin, like he had no intention of letting go.
“You miss me that much?” you teased, leaning into him just a little.
Joel grunted, pressing a kiss against the top of your head before stepping away to put the brush back. “Every damn minute.”
Your stomach flipped at that, at the gruff honesty of it, no hesitation in his voice. You watched as he opened the stall door, letting your horse into the pasture for the night, his movements slow, easy—so at home here, so at home with you.
When he turned back, his hand slipped around your waist, pulling you gently from the stall. “C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice softer now. “Let’s go eat.”
You exhaled with a smile, warmth curling through your chest. “Fine. I’m starved.” You hesitated for just a second, then reached for his hand, fingers slotting between his as you squeezed. “And, Joel?”
He glanced down at you, his grip instinctively tightening. “Yeah?”
Your smile turned softer, quieter. “I missed you too.”
Joel didn’t say anything, but his hand slid from your waist up to the back of your neck, tilting your face up to lean into you. He kissed you slow, deliberate—like it wasn’t enough to just hear it, like he needed you to feel it. Needed to remind you, in the only way he really knew how, just how much you meant to him.
Joel Miller was never a man of many words, but the way he held you, the way he kissed you in moments like this...it said more than words ever could.
#Joel miller#Joel miller fluff#Joel miller tlou#Jackson joel#the last of us#tlou#tlou joel#Joel tlou#Joel miller x reader#Joel miller x you#Joel miller fluffy#im just a horse girl with horse girl dreams#I love good dreams like this omfg
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GREEDY — gojo satoru minors dni


prologue. → pretty, prodigal, and teasing. how far can you push your former teacher before he snaps? gojo's about this 🤏 close from releasing a hollow purple on the world.
pairing. gojo satoru x afab!reader
warnings+. màstúrbation (m.) and rough sèx, creaḿpie. some angst/doubt. angsty love confession before gojo póunds reader into the mattress. incorrect use of reversed curse technique. arguments and stuff. description of injuries. def mean!gojo a bit and he's got vampire tendencies.
reader is of legal age (implied to be 19-20) and gojo is 28 so age gap!romance. obsessed!gojo and popular girl!reader trope. gojo is absolutely a mess in this, and reader is described as wearing short skirts, and wearing makeup.
rather questionable ethics and dynamics (teacher/former student) but rest assured its clear that his feelings are pretty recent. reader has him twirled and whipped around her fingers. reader is also def a baddie and ambiguously bi.
word count. 8.7k words im mad actually. this was meant to be headcanons song inspiration. greedy — tate mcrae
a/n. this is was gonna be from reader's pov but i thought it would be more fun from gojo's 🙂↔️
mp3. i see you eyeing me down, but you'll never know much past my name. or how i'm running this room, but i'm still half your age. yeah, you're looking at me like i'm some sweet escape 😛

gojo satoru was not a weak man, no. he knew that he was an anomaly of nature, an unstoppable power that could reduce enemies to dust and make entire clans crumble with nothing more than a flick of his wrists.
so how was it, that when it came to you, his resolve was paper-thin?
every time your open gaze met his, every time you brushed past him, every time your presence filled the space around his infinity, gojo felt something inside him unravel. his breath would be caught in his chest, leaving his pulse to quicken and suddenly, all that strength and control would slip through his fingers.
gojo cursed himself for this, you see. he had never been one to lose control, but he was not quite sure when his entire body has started to betray him.
but no, fuck that, and he did his utter best to run his focus back onto the lesson at hand. unfortunately, the lesson at hand was with you. standing in front of him, arms slightly raised, palms out, and raising your brow as boredom passed over your face.
gojo cleared his throat, "your stance is good, but your cursed energy is all over the place. focus, breathe. centre yourself is what i'm saying," he instructed, but the words felt hollow as they passed through his lips.
unfairly, you're weren't the problem. he was. and now this was getting ridiculous. you had graduated not two, three years past? it would have been a disservice to still call you his student, but even as a mentee, you were still under his tutelage. and as recent as this immature infatuation was, this felt wrong.
but now you were frowning, starting to waver and the sharp, staccato tap of your heeled boot punctuated the wooden floor, click, click!
gojo looked to the sky, briefly, if to pray for patience and a calm of some sorts. he stepped forwards towards you, placing a hand on your waist to guide you into a better stance, and trying to ignore the way your skin felt warm underneath his fingers.
focus.
"don't let your body twist like that when you utilise your own cursed energy. keep it straight, balanced," he muttered, adjusting your posture slightly, hand on your spine — the heel of his palm pressing into a dent. a deity from the sky must have struck him with a cursed arrow, for his whole body was on fire.
because there you were, standing right in front of him, so close that gojo could feel the soft heat of your breath, the faint scent of a sweet perfume wafting off your skin, vanilla?
"you're not focused," gojo grimaced, though he wasn't sure if the rebuke was at himself, or at you — whose eyes widened briefly, and gojo tried not to recognise the curiosity and challenge that flashed across your face.
look at how she's staring at me. and gojo felt utterly ridiculous, and exposed, she knows. but instead of pulling away, you shifted ever so slightly towards him, your body arching as the barest brush of your breasts against his forearm had heat pulling through his body.
would you taste as sweet as you smelt? would you lean more into him if he asked?
he cleared his throat, "okay. relax, not every stance or position works for an individual. perhaps, you'll be able to focus better like this," and with his hand still on your waist, he pulled you into a swift spin. one that left your back pressed against the hard planes of the chest, and you facing the other wall.
you hummed, this time not in the way he wanted. your lips were lightly parted, and there was that soft sheen of gloss catching the light, making your lips look impossibly soft. gojo caught himself staring, wandering what it would be like to press his own mouth to yours, and whether you would squeal or moan.
still, if there was anything that gojo was good at, it was deflecting like a champ, "i think you're distracted," he laughed, low and amused, "is something making you lose focus?"
you tilted your head, and gojo didn't miss (nor did his heart or groin) that your gaze flickered to his mouth for the briefest second before meeting his eyes again, feigning innocence, "don't tell me you're underestimating me, sensei. because i'd hate to think you can't keep up?"
gojo bit back a grin at the obvious bait, "careful," brushing strands of white hair that had fallen into his face away, "if you get too cocky, you tend to miss danger. you start to ignore things that should be noticed."
your voice dropped to a droll whisper, eyes glinting, "you think i don't notice things? i'm aware of plenty."
gojo forced himself to focus, to ignore the way that your lashes flutter with unshakable composure. trying to regain control, or some semblance of mind, he started counting each individual lash painted dark with mascara, lingering on the outermost curls that framed your sharp eyes.
after a beat, he forced himself to break eye contact, "alright," he said, stepping back with a casual shrug that he hoped conveyed just how nonchalant he was, "we’ll call it a day here and continue training tomorrow."
"backing out already?" you teased, leaning in just a little, making him tense at the closeness.
gojo chuckled, feigning nonchalance. "for your sake. you may be powerful, but you have to pace yourself."
you shrugged, nodding, "i'm going out anyway this evening," you said, hopping back a step before bending down to gather your things. gojo politely averted his gaze, his heart hammering from your previous proximity, and desperately hoping to avoid a...reaction, that would be quite inconvenient, as wide and loose as his martial pants were. like a fuckin' school boy with a crush. gross.
but as you slung your pastel bag over your shoulder and straightened up, he couldn't help a quick glance, catching the small, coy glimmer in your eyes as you turned to leave.
gojo sighed, pulling up his blindfold once more, "have fun," he half-heartedly offered, but you were already out the door.

the corridors were now empty, the clang of metal and chatter now silent, replaced with a quiet hum of the air conditioning. gojo wiped his face with the towel wrapped around his neck, the damp fabric clinging to his skin and the muscles in his arms and chest still warm from the intensity of training. his arms and chest glistened, the muscles warm and taut as he stretched, rolling his shoulders back with a low groan. exhaustion settled into him like a weight, each movement of his tired, bare torso slow and deliberate.
"oh, you're still here, sensei?"
gojo's eyes snapped open, drawn to the sound of your inquisitive voice. you stood in the doorway, framed by the dim light from the hallway, and he immediately felt a rush of heat flood his chest.
well, fuck, now his mouth was dry. clearly, your previous iteration of 'going out' was a bit more glamorous than you had led on, and he was certain his wandering eyes betrayed him as it flickered over your figure. it took a titan's strength to keep his eyes from trailing down your long legs, the way your dress hugged the swell of your chest, or over your glistening neck. there was a faint shimmer, a glitter of some sort? it coated your skin, and gojo wanted to lick it off with his tongue.
what? no. who said that?
he swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep his composure.
you scowled at his reaction, clearly mistaking his silence for distaste. "what? i did say i was going somewhere," you retorted, your tone sharp but amused. "i’m more than allowed to leave the campus grounds.”
"of course,” he replied, voice outstandingly steady but his mind still trailing after every curve, every detail that made you look...well...dangerous in the best way, "don't let me stop you. who's the lucky guy?"
you arched a brow, folding your arms over your chest, and now, gojo really did have to look away and pretend that he was busy with retying a dark piece of cloth over his eyes, "who said it was a guy?"
gojo thickly swallowed, wondering if he'd just made a colossal blunder with no return, "that's not what i meant." the words 'my bad' stuck in his throat as you laughed and sighed.
"joking, sorry. it's a guy, this time." now you were fiddling with your long nails, with a satisfying clack as they ran across each other.
"i hope he shows you a great time then," he offered, half-hearted, blasé.
you took a step into the room, and gojo didn't even need six eyes to know that your eyes were raking over his chest, "i'm sure he will," all sweetness and sugar, "i've been training so hard, i deserve it, don't i?"
the words hit him harder than he expected, and he had to remind himself — she's not yours, satoru. but that didn't stop the gruff irritation bubbling up.
"a real man should be taking you out on a date like this,” he said, his voice a bit too rough for his liking. "not some guy who’s probably just looking for a good time."
you scoffed lightly, rolling your eyes. "are you saying that there's someone else out there who can do a better job?" your tone was playful, but there was a challenge in it — an edge that made his heart skip once more, "sadly, there just aren't many who've handled me well."
he ignored your immature, faux pout, and ran a hand through damp, icy hair — ignoring how his temper flared, rearing its ugly head.
was this all on purpose? to toy with him?
"you want to be handled, sweetheart?" gojo's voice dropped a little lower, indulging your teasing, "i've seen you lose focus easily, you could easily break."
your lips creased up, painted a tempting shade of dried-blood red (what the fuck was wrong with him? was he now just a horny vampire?) as you purred, "i'd need some help testing out that theory." your expression was open just enough for him to see the tiniest flicker of something in your eyes — something that told him you were enjoying this far more than you should.
an invitation of sorts, he wondered. did you want him to move? to make a move? it wasn’t a secret that you had always been a popular student practically a legend, rumours swirling around you like wildfire — whispers of broken hearts and sweetened smiles that could captivate anyone in your path. he had never paid attention of course, gossip always ran wild among students and he discouraged such whispers of who-did-what, for a grade 1 curse would never indulge such behaviour before they would get torn to shreds.
and even now, long after graduation as you worked around your old alma mater, men and women — everyone swooned at the chance to speak with you, and yet, here you were, playing this dangerous game with him.
gojo scowled, trying to push past the desire building inside him, the urge to have you underneath him, right on this mat in the training room. "well, don’t hang around too long," he said, his tone sharp as a blade. "i’m sure your date is waiting. go have a good time."
invitation declined. the morally right thing to do. right?
he didn’t need to look to see the small sneer that curled at the corner of your lips, or the way it turned into a fleeting expression of annoyance. he could hear the click of your heels echo down the hallway as you sashayed out.
what the everlasting fuck was wrong with him?

lo and behold, the great gojo satoru often found himself alone in his own private rooms. for 'the strongest' rarely had time to accommodate some other forms of company.
and frankly, he had no desire to do so now regardless. not when the echoes of your clicking heels still reverberated in his mind. the silence that echoed around him was heavy, suffocating and he was sure he looked erratic.
gojo ran a hand over his face, trying to shake the thought of you. but it was useless. his body was still on fire, the heat of jealousy smouldering in his chest, coiling in his gut like something alive, something dangerous. he had walked to the nearest chair and collapsed into it, his legs splayed wide apart as his shoulders slumped under the soft, amber glow of the setting sun that streamed through the windows. the sorcerer let his head fall back against the chair, eyes closed.
how absolutely ridiculous, he thought, running his fingers through his tousled hair. no, he just couldn't stop it. couldn't stop thinking about how badly he wanted you. wanted you to want him too. and now, with the way you’d left, with that knowing smile on your lips, all he could imagine was the man you were with now, the man who’d be holding the door open for you, who’d be pulling out your chair, whoever the hell he was.
maybe even a casual, non-sorcerer. some random guy that you had indulged because he was no threat. but he wouldn't be able to touch you, not in the way that you demanded. the man would laugh at your jokes, brush his hand against yours, but wouldn't be able to let a real smile bubble from your lips like satoru could.
and what would that man do next?
would he try to take you back to his place? some small poorly-lit apartment where he'd try to kiss you, to claim your lips without even pulling away for air. would you kiss him back, curling into his frame?
before gojo's even registered what he's doing, his own hand has found his hard cock. despite the tattle of assistance, and dreamy-eyed mongers, pleasure is rare for him. relief, even less so. his schedule just doesn't allow it, and so he oft find himself chasing some distant contentment like this, alone in his rooms.
but he squeezes at the wide hilt, at his base, pulling his hands up, upwards as his brows furrow under blindfold, and he tugs the offending fabric off, away from him, as laden balls smack against his wrist.
maybe the man would then trail his lips down your neck, maybe he'd try to slowly sink his teeth into delicate flesh, leaving blooming purple marks that wouldn't fade, not when gojo saw you tomorrow.
he's running his curled hand up towards the fat mushroom tip, almost glowing pink with heat and pre-cum that's leaving his hand slicked with faint moisture, "shit, that's it."
then what? he can imagine your teasing smile as you decide to take your pleasure as you see fit. how you'd suddenly push this faceless man off, and move so you're straddling him, letting his hands wander around the curve of your hips, digging into plush flesh.
now he's starting to pant, open-mouthed, "ah - fuck! wish i had you here, right here." gojo must be a madman, breathing out to the empty, open air.
but in his mind's eye, you're reaching behind your back to undo the zipper on your outstandingly tight dress, giving the faceless man a coy smile as you push the fabric of your dress down, letting your plentiful tits spill out and against the man's chest.
his wrist is moving faster now, and there's a cramp starting to build up as he pistons his hand over his stretched shaft, and one arm is thrown over his face — the soft hairs on his thick forearm tickling his face as he tries not to gasp or whine too loudly, but he's bucking his ups now, pretending that it's not his hand that he's spilling into, but your tight cunt. and later, he shudders and tenses up, with apologies whispered into the air, "look, look - shit, i'm sorry - i'm sorry. couldn't help it, fuck." and gojo's bitten his lips so hard that he's certain he's drawn blood, vibrant red blooming on pale, creamy skin.
and a lamp had exploded as he came. damn, he'd have to replace that.
you don't deserve someone like him, no. not when he's sitting here, absolutely filthy with thick, white seed entirely over his tense abdominal muscles and stiff hand. not when he's trying to catch his breath after imagining how snug your pussy would feel around him, and how you'd beg for him to give it to you harder.
you didn't deserve someone so messed up with guilt, with mistakes, with the kind of weight that made him too much for anyone, let alone someone like you. didn't you deserve better than a tortured man who couldn't control himself, better than an overzealous mentor who was supposed to keep his distance, to do what was right.
but that didn’t stop his thoughts from swirling, as he separated damp, thick thighs from the smooth surface of the chair, reaching for a tissue. he couldn’t help it. and it made him feel like a damn fool.

the meeting room buzzed with tension, voices rising in sharp, clipped exchanges — some angry, some demanding and others clueless and questioning. gojo had woken up in a foul mood that morning, with some ill-gotten storm brewing beneath his chest. perhaps it was the thoughts of you that lingered from the night before, a gnawing jealously that left him feeling too tight in the stiffness of the uniform dress pants.
but he had forced himself to be dragged through this meeting, plastering a snarky light-hearted grin over his face as he leaned against the wall, letting the higher-ups argue themselves into oblivion.
amidst the storm of words, gojo's focus was nowhere near the mission being discussed. no, his attention was fixated entirely on you. you stood at the far end of the table, eyes flashing with ire as you tore into some pompous old fool who’d dared question your power. the others in the room shifted uncomfortably, deferring to you, as they often did, despite your youth. you had that rare combination of presence and bite that made people recoil back when you sunk your teeth into them, and this was not a knot gojo was interested in unraveling.
kojiro, one of the bumbling administrators, had turned his babbling attention to gojo, "you're still planning to face that curse head-on, gojo-san?" the poor man is wringing his hands at gojo's flat look (made all the more unreadable through a blindfold, satoru would wager), "don't you think it would be well - unwise? instead of expending your time and energy on one cursed spirit, you could handle five lesser ones. efficiency, you see."
gojo's gaze briefly flickers back to you, standing with your arms crossed as one hand fiddles with the end of your braid as your petal-pink lips scowl at some other official with words that don't fit his stature. your other hands keeps reaching around your neck, adjusting a plaid scarf over and over, like you're desparate to hide something under the fabric . well, fuck that.
"i'm aware of the risks," gojo turns his attention back to the matter, "but no one here has time for hesitation. if the curse is special grade, don't you at least think that delaying with lead to more destruction?"
"is it really the cursed spirit you’re worried about, takumi-san?" you asked, your voice low, the kind of voice that could make someone forget their own name.
gojo's gaze snapped to you from under the blindfold, but you weren’t looking at him, not even speaking at him. instead, you were locking eyes with one of the other sorcerers — takumi, a grade two with a shaggy mop of golden hair, one who had been a student alongside you and hardly subtle in his admiration for you.
gojo tries to hide a scoff at how takumi's eyes are wandering over you, ignoring the newpapers that have been flattened on the meeting table, with bold inked letters reading doom-portents such as 'unexplained explosion, 4 dead and 12 injured."
time and place, man.
"you don't think i can handle this mission. if you're worried about me, just say so," takumi's now leaning into you, even as gojo tries to train his ear on kojiro's economic-obsessed babble instead.
gojo can see your eyes flicker to the dastardly newspapers as well, clearly curling your lips at the dour news and takami's disastrous attempt at getting his hands under your skirt. but he also knows that sharp glint in your eyes, the one when you toy with those around you, to pull them in without ever committing to anything. clearly, you've decided to indulge this game.
"takumi," and you draw out the younger man's name, "shouldn't you bring more strength to the table? of course, i'm worried about a friend getting hurt. but even if you were stronger, or the strongest, a special grade curse could do some real damage."
and your eyes have flicked right towards gojo, raking over his frame leaning against the pale cream walls. he's glad for the blindfold, so you can't see how he scowls and furrows his thin brows at you, at your blatant hopes for a reaction from him. were you so unobservant that you did not know how much you bothered him?
the pointed sharpness in your words made takumi pause, and for just a moment, gojo could see the man’s grin falter. it was clear that you weren’t impressed by his attention, you had no need for his slimy attempts.
there was no mistake about it — this wasn’t just a flirtation. this was a game you played, and gojo was not only aware of it; he was caught in it. he tries not to feel irrationally angry, fuck, so much of his life revolves around his work, his job and now he can't even do that properly without feeling like you're using your long nails to dangle something in front of him, wanting to snap his teeth out and snatch it.
so you wanted him to see this. you wanted to claim that you could unravel the strongest sorcerer from the heavens to the earth below, to make him lose his composure. gojo feels as if there is crackling ozone in the air, and wonders dimly if the weather forecast predicted a rain storm for later today.
takumi, sensing the shift, finally backed off with a huff, but not before giving all around him a lingering look, as if it was their fault that you weren't interested.
"enough distractions," kojiro's interjected, raking a finger through a beard streaked with gray, and he's shooting a pointed look at you, snapping rose-pink gum, and takumi, shuffling with his hands in his pockets. "we're here to discuss the mission, not flirt." and then, he's off mumbling something about how this was why he hated having younger sorcerers join the meeting rooms.

his ire only grew. gojo stood with his back against the wall, outside the meeting room, once everyone had left with his arms crossed tightly over his chest. you stood in front of him, your eyes flashing with anger, your chest rising and falling with each sharp breath.
"absolutely not," gojo stood his ground firmly, "no-one will let you go on this mission."
you stomped on the floor, once as your heels snapped an echo, "they will if you say so."
gojo stuffs his hands in his pockets, "who said that i would also allow you?"
you scoffed, folding your arms across your chest, mimicking his previous stance but with a clear defiance in your posture. "and why the hell not? i'm more than capable of handling it. it's my fucking choice, and how can extra help hurt?"
"enough!" gojo snapped, feeling a tense pain in between his eyes, "it's too dangerous. and you're too young -"
"too young!" you've interrupted him, "i'm not some helpless child, sensei. i'm a grade 1 sorcerer! one of the best, i don't need to be treated like i can't handle a mission."
"grade 1. not special-grade."
his eyes narrowed, his jaw tight. gojo could see the fury in your eyes, but there was something else there, something deeper, a vulnerability that he had seen before in students, some desire to prove themselves and be heaped with praise. he knew you were good, better than most — hell, better than many of the adults he’d seen. but this cursed spirit was unlike anything you’d faced before. and yet, here you were, challenging him, pushing him, daring him to stop you.
"you don’t get it," he muttered, the words slipping from his mouth before he could stop them. "you think you’re invincible, but you’re not. you're too reckless."
"reckless!" now you had taken a step towards him, narrowing the space between you both. your eyes were fierce now, but there was something else in them — a spark of hurt that made his chest tighten, and gojo began to wander where this would start spiral. "i’m not reckless. i know exactly what i’m doing. the only reckless thing here is you thinking you have the right to control my every move."
"i'm the one in charge here," he said, his voice hoarse, the words coming out sharper than he intended. "and i'm telling you now, you’re not going. you’re not ready for this. don't involve the higher-ups in this."
you were so close now, just inches apart. his eyes flicked to your lips, with the arch of a blooming flower kissed by the sun, for a brief moment, and then back up to your face, where anger and frustration mixed with something else — a challenge.
"maybe that’s the problem," you said, your voice quieter now, but still holding an edge. "you think i'm still some child who needs you to tell me what to do. maybe you just don’t want me to outshine you."
the words are ridiculous, and he can see by the mild quiver as your throat bobs that you don't mean what you say. it takes a rare type of courage to tell the first person in four hundred years to be born with limitless and six eyes, that he could be outshined. but satoru doesn't say a word to rebuke your obvious and false bait.
your body is so close now that gojo could feel the heat of your skin, your breath brushing against his. he could smell the faint sweetness of vanilla again in the air mingled with fresh, crisp apples, could see the subtle shine of your lip gloss catching the light. it was a testament to his spirit, he thinks, that he did not lean in straight away and touch his mouth to yours in this scenario that certainly did not warrant it.
"you want me to stop you that badly?" he hissed, his voice a mix of frustration and something darker, that had not yet snapped. "is that what this is? a game? a way for you to get my attention? to see how far you can push me before i do snap?"
now he's got your tongue, and your expression has flickered for a brief moment before schooling into an impassive mask, and gojo briefly wanders if he's crossed an awful line and misinterpreted everything. if they're gonna stick a white dunce hat on his head and parade him through the streets of outer tokyo for being an assuming fool.
but then you've stepped even closer, your breath coming faster, the weight of your chest almost pressed against his, and gojo doesn't move and he's briefly aware that he's let his infinity down.
"partly, you know it's not just about you though. i do want to go on this mission, but -" you tilt your head and look right up at him, and the older man's head starts to reel from the fact that he was right all along, "i do want to see how far you can go before you snap."
his heart pounded, and for a moment, everything went still. all the tension, all the heat, the anger, and the desire — everything seemed to converge in the space between you. gojo's hand twitched, aching to touch you, but he held himself back, his muscles straining with the effort.
"stop,” he rasped, barely able to get the word out. "you don’t know what you’re doing, or what you're asking for."
he's never felt quite like this before, breathless as if the air has been punched out of his lungs. all gojo could think was how much he wanted to pull you closer, to kiss you until there was nothing left between you.
but he couldn’t.
he puts his hands on your shoulders, fingers digging into the expensive fabric of your top, and gently pushes you away.
"my decision is final. don't make this harder than this, you're forbidden from the mission."
how sick and twisted, that you've fled with embarrassed tears pricking at your eyes, and he's stuck with a raging erection.

well, he had seen worse. but it didn't make this curse any less vicious. it was ancient, he could presume, and maddening. its cursed energy was warping the night air like a violent storm. but again, not the worst thing that he had encountered in his twenty-eight years, and with the right timing, he'd been able to calculate every strike and counter.
but then he saw you.
at first, he thought it was a blur — a trick of the light. but then, there you were, standing at the edge of the pavement, your figure framed by the chaotic crackle of cursed energy. fuck your stubborn nature.
this is not what is meant to happen. gojo's heart has skipped a beat, and he's not sure what he's more furious with. you, for defying his concern for your safety. or himself, for getting so distracted in. a battle.
"what the fuck is wrong with you?"
yes, he knows you're good. good enough to move with precision against a special-grade curse, your stance instantly and suspiciously better than the other day in the training rooms. it's only through his six eyes that gojo has been able to keep a track of your movements as your jujutsu is able to dodge the creature's brutal force.
impressive. but reckless.
and that never lasts.
you had moved to cast your own cursed technique, but the curse was intelligent enough to anticipate it. with a sudden lash of its tail, the creature swung its power straight at you, knocking you off balance. you stumbled, your footing lost, and before you could react, a flash of dark energy slicing across your shoulder.
a scream had torn from your lips as you fell to the ground, blood spurting from the deep cut.
and briefly, just for a flicker of time, gojo sees a dark-haired man in violet robes leaning against a brick wall, with his shoulder torn off, 'at least curse me one last time.'
blood rushing in his ears, before he even realised it, he was on top of you, his body hovering over yours, his jujutsu flaring as he shoved the cursed spirit back with a brutal force that made the earth tremble, an exorcism that will not take long. he kneeled beside you, his breath ragged, eyes locked on the wound on your shoulder. the blood was already soaking your clothes, darkening the fabric as you winced, your breath shallow and unsteady.
"you —” gojo isn't sure if his hand isn't shaking from how irate he is, "what the hell were you thinking? fuck, don't move."
your eyes were unfocused for a moment, but when they snapped to him, there was defiance there — even in this moment (get a grip!), as you gritted your teeth against the pain.
"save it, it's fine," you spat, your voice weak but vexed, "that bitch is still there."
"what did i tell you! what did i say would happen?" he cursed under his breath, focusing his reversed cursed technique as he tried to heal you, but the moment felt like an eternity as bright red blood moved too fast for him to seize it.
an assassin's blade in his throat, his arteries giving way and bubbling out and up.
now you don't answer, your eyes fluttering closed for a brief second. gojo's gaze darted to the cursed spirit, which was now advancing again, enraged by the interruption.
it won’t touch you again.
he stood, pulling you away from him, your body slumping slightly out of his arms. he could feel the heat of your blood soaking through his sleeve, but he had no time to dwell on it. the curse roared in fury, and gojo's infinity flared up around him again, a shield of pure energy blocking its path.
"stay down,” he growled, and all he received was a weak, "fuck, you think that's funny?"
it's only later when he's pulling you back up, that he realises that his reversed cursed energy has done enough to stem the bleeding, but not enough to leave you unharmed as your breath is shallow, your face taking on a more sickly pallor.
"don’t you ever — ever —do that again," he snarled, his voice raw and he wonders when something (or someone) has ever undone him so much. but the anger in his voice doesn't carry to his touch as he gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek, tracing the lines of your jaw.

the sterile walls of your room did nothing to soften the tension in gojo's chest as he stood by your bed, his eyes tracing the curve of your sullen form beneath the sheets. your shoulder was bandaged, with red seeping slowly through the white strips.
"you really are unbelievable," he snapped, his voice sharp as he paced around the room, every step heavy with frustration. "i told you it was too dangerous. i told you not to fucking go."
you lay there, your eyes half-closed, as though you weren’t even listening, but the twitching frown on your lips is sign enough that you're not as sorry. his fingers flexed at his sides, itching to do something — anything — to release the tension building in him.
"are you even listening to me?" he know he sounds bitter, over-reactionary, angry as he moved towards the edge of your bed.
you blinked slowly, your gaze still infuriatingly calm, "i'm fine, now. save the lecture."
he doesn't want to start sputtering so he settles for crossing his arms over his chest, but your voice breaks the silence again.
"you know i want to be a special grade sorcerer, right?"
gojo only looks down, not wanting to indulge an excuse and he studies the tight grip of his knuckles on his slender fingers, "well, i don't know why. the pay isn't that good." it's a weak attempt at a joke, but you're smiling.
"i was told i could only become one if i was the one to exorcise that special grade."
"by who? the higher-ups?" and you nod, wincing as you do.
what a fucking surprise. the way that the jujutsu world works is no surprise to gojo by now, having been surrounded by it his entire life. but the harshness of their reality still shocks him, old and doddering officials who cling to their silk robes are prone to sending out younger sorcerers (those who are still green, barely out of school) to do their dirty work for them, and the cemetery outside of jujutsu tech is ever growing.
he ground his teeth together, his chest tightening as he stared down at you. the bandages, the damp skin, the stillness of your body — it made him want to tear something apart. "fine! if they were giving you a hard time, why didn't you just come to me then?" he repeated harshly.
"would you go ask someone to help you, for something like this? if you were asked to prove yourself?"
gojo runs his tongue behind his teeth, "i'm the strongest, princess. i don't need to ask for help."
you groan, turning your head away from him, but a faint smile dances upon your lips.
he inhales sharply, his fingers digging into the edge of the bed. "you think this is a joke?"
"all four limbs are attached and i'm living and breathing. okay, so fine. my bad. i won't do it again. will you stop snapping at me now, at everything -" and gojo wonders if there's really some hurt colouring your voice, "what's going on?"
the words slip out, rough and unrestrained. "what’s going on is that you’re driving me insane. you act like this doesn’t matter, like i can just stand by and let you throw yourself into danger like it’s nothing — like you don’t matter — but you do. you do matter."
his chest was heaving now, his hands shaking as he reached out and grabbed your wrist. his thumb brushed over your pulse, the tiny fluttering beneath your skin driving him wild. "i can’t — i can’t just stand there and watch you get hurt," he continued, his voice hoarse. "you don’t get to do whatever you want without consequences, damn it. you don’t get to make me feel this way, and then pretend like it doesn’t matter."
for a moment, there was silence. gojo's pulse was hammering in his ears, his body coiled with the intensity of everything he was trying to say. everything he was trying not to say. everything he wanted to act upon.
and then, with a slow, almost lazy smile, you turned towards him, "i didn't know the great gojo satoru was like this. who would have thought?"
his breath hitched in his throat. gojo wanted to say something, to snap at you again, to maintain that distance — but the truth was that the distance between the two of you had disappeared these past few weeks. his chest tightened, his hands trembling as they slid to your face, fingers tracing the line of your jaw, and he relished how your facade almost cracked and you lightly shivered.
at least, he hoped you were shivering because of his touch. and not, like, a fever building up from your injuries.
fuck it.
and then, before he could stop himself, gojo was leaning down, his lips crashing into yours with all the force he could muster, desparate and hungry and that frustration and fear that he had been holding onto. his hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you towards him with a force that made your breath catch, as you responded with a soft gasp.
had he misstepped? no, for you kissed him back, tentatively at first, as if you were testing the waters, but then building up to a sudden urgency that mirrored his own. your hands slid to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you pushed yourself closer to him, before crying out.
"ah! fuck, my shoulder."
small beads of blood surfaced where your collarbone met your shoulder, each one glistening like tiny rubies against your warm skin. they gathered slowly, delicate droplets that clung to you before tracing faint, uneven lines downward. the red stood out, vivid and fresh, dotting your skin in a stark, almost mesmorising gojo as they welled up and began to trick in thin, crimson trails.
"stay still," gojo rasped, his voice low and rough as he leaned in, pressing closer. his mouth met the fresh blood pooling on your skin, tongue tracing over the small rivulets that had seeped from beneath the bandage.
he lingered, almost savouring the taste, his eyes darkening as the sharp tang of iron lingered on his tongue, smacking his lips slightly as he drew back, gaze fixed intently on you, on your heavy breathing as he stole away another kiss from you.
gojo's lips left yours briefly, his breath ragged as he stared down at you, his eyes wild underneath the blindfold, gasping as your nails reached up to hook the fabric down so his hair loosened, falling around his face.
you were staring back at him, breathless and wide-eyed, and in that moment, gojo knew — he couldn’t stay away from you. no matter how much he tried.
your lips were soft, so soft, but there was fire behind the way you kissed him back, your hands landing on his chest, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt. he groaned, deep in his throat, and his fingers threaded into your hair, pulling you closer.
his mouth moved urgently over yours as he shifted to stand beside the bed, his body hovering over you, every muscle tense, straining with the desire that he had tried so hard to ignore. gojo just couldn't think about anything else.
and your lips broke apart only briefly, and you let out a soft laugh, that damn, dangerous laugh of yours. "you're greedy, you know that."
his chest heaved, and his heart pounded in his ears, and blood was now pounding to his nether regions. he wasn’t sure if it was the previous anger or the ache between his ribs, but he couldn’t stop himself as he threaded his fingers through your soft hair, "i am greedy. greedy for you. only you - mmph! shit!"
you had run your long, painted nails (with the little painted charms on the end) down his neck before pressing them, hard enough to cause a sharp sting.
"you wanted to put me through hell," he whispered harshly, and his lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, "until i realised i liked it. until i realised i wanted you, all of you."
his hands moved down to your waist, squeezing gently as his lips found the tender spot beneath your ear, trailing kisses there, letting his teeth sink in, to see small bruises appear. gojo's breath was ragged as he fought to keep control, and something deeper inside of him roared with the need to claim you completely.
"you’re mine," he growled against your skin, the words hot and possessive. "i don't care what happens. you’re mine now."
you tilted your head, still smiling, but this time there was something different in your eyes — something that burned with the same intensity. "if i'm yours, what are you going to do about it? hmm, satoru?"
and that final thread, that last remnant of honour that he had been nurturing and holding onto, snapped.
"is this what you want, princess?" he draws out the nickname, letting it roll off his tongue, as you suddenly inhale sharply. his hands are all over you now, large hands exploring and kneading at your torso, and before he can even let you blink, they're under your top.
he's pressing his hot mouth to your sternum, wet and open-mouthed, and he wonders what sort of effect you have on him. what force in the world leave him panting like this, desparate as his hands find their way behind your back, to unclip whatever's holding your tits in place — just so he can reach back and run his palms over your hard nipples, flicking them and rolling them in between his fingers.
and faintly, in the back of his mind, he's aware that his reversed cursed technique must be working overtime, because suddenly you're rolling forward into him with no care in the world for your previously injured shoulder, as your own hands trail down the front of body, right over his bulge.
but he slaps your hand away, pressing you flat against the mattress, "fuck, not yet. you think i'm just going to let you get away with all this," and as you mewl a soft yes, followed by a please, he rolls his eyes, "wait. behave and i'll give you what you want."
and then, softer, "need to make sure you're ready first."
his arms are caging both sides of your head, and he's got one hand on the headboard (although, you will marvel at the burnt imprint that he's left, later) and the other is tearing your top off, just so he can lean down and let his canines press into the soft fat of your chest, so he can slip a pointed nipple into his mouth and tug it, ever so gently.
but gojo needs to continue lower, and his hand squeezes at the waistband of your short skirt, snapping the elastic twice as you heave your bare chest, "please, please, satoru!"
it's heaven down here for him, and gojo's dizzy at how outstandingly wet you are, with just a single swipe of his fingers in the soft, damp fabric of your underwear.
your clear, sticky arousal clung to his fingers, stretching in thin, glistening threads as he spread your thighs apart, knocking your knees to either side so he could slot himself in between them. your slick shimmered slightly under the light, translucent and tacky and he just couldn't help himself, bringing them up to his mouth to slowly taste.
"shit, princess. you taste so good, can't believe this is what i've been missing out on."
he's playing an instrument, he thinks. gliding his fingers along sodden folds, twirling his index finger past a thick wad of skin and pressing right over your clit in hot, tight circles that have you bucking your hips, "hnngh, right - ah, right there 'toru!"
'toru.
as a reward, he plunges his middle finger straight into your gaping heat, your tight wall of ringed muscles that had been fluttering in light pulses for his attention. fuck, he almost reaches his own climax by feeling how you squirm and writhe, moan and mewl as he starts pushing his finger in, and then out.
in, and then out. in, once more. and out, again. and then, another finger.
his fingers sank into your soft, damp pussy — which yielded easily enough with a soft pssh! as the digits pressed in. gojo pulled his hand back out from your thighs, enjoying the tight resistance and suction as your cunt has resisted being empty once more, leaving a cool moistness on his skin.
but now your hands gently cup his face, and he isn't sure how to not crumble with how you look at him, eyes wide and glossy, "wan' more, want your cock, 'toru."
now, gojo feels as though he's truly ascended, gone onto some higher plane of existence. because how can he resist when your hands are weakly pawing at his belt, at his waistband and he's letting you pull his thick shaft out.
it's hot, and already weeping angry tears of pre-cum, and he just loves how your eyes widen at the sheer size and girth.
"yeah, princess was sooo brave earlier, wasn't she? wanted my cock, ah! shit - did she?" and he's letting the wide tip lay heavy against your clit, knocking it once, and then twice, through your heavenly folds.
you've reached a leg up, and around his waist, pulling him closer and gojo has to pierce his lip with his teeth to not let out a gutteral groan from his cock sliding through the your folds, "i don't - don't care, i really don't fucking care if it's too big. just put it in now, m' so wet, i'm wet enough."
your babble is endearing, and he marvels at how easily he has you cock-drunk without even being in you right now. he jostles further, until the tip is right at your flittering entrance, pressing forward and slipping through the heated, slick gummy texture in a way that has the strongest's head spinning.
"easy, princess. oh fuck, you're too tight. way too tight, i'm gonna -" and gojo inhales, steadying himself, as the wet heat enveloped him as he moved, each slide through the soft walls of your pussy leaving him acutely aware of every inch, the warmth coating him further until your slick was dampening the white, stray hairs of his groin.
he pulls your lips close again, one hand coming up to gently cradle your head, and his fingers weaving slowly through your hair.
"you're so deep in me, 'toru! so - hnngh," and your words are cut off by a staccato thrust of his hips, and your teeth clack around a moan that gojo gladly swallows.
"hey, i'm right here. i've got you, yeah? got you so good, just hold onto me."
and he keeps a steady pace, plunging into molten silk, with a sensation so intense and so enveloping that it left him breathless, with a rush of heat that made his head spin.
he's toying with your tits, pressing his face into the shadow that lies between your mounds, and gojo's certain that he could die a happy man like this, exactly like this.
he realises that the faint laugh is coming from him, so distant is he in his pussy-drunk reverie, that he realises he must look and sound like a madman, "pretty pussy is so tight, so fucking tight. haah, i think i'm gonna have to fill you up, gorgeous?" and he must be blathering, "want me to fill you up? shit- want me to stuff... ah! stuff you so full of cum that we just hafta stay in this bed all day then?"
he had his fingers now moving in circles over your throbbing clit, exerting a gentle pressure that had you so beautifully keening and bucking your hips up, jolting right into his pelvis. and gojo bit back as a groan as his heavy balls started to smack, and smack! over and over again, right onto your dampened skin.
"she must be close right, pretty little pussy must be almost tired now," and gojo's now slapping your clit, lifting three fingers up and bringing them down with enough force to not harm you, but make you jolt, "she. must. be. so. close." and each word is punctuated by the slippery spank of his fingers bouncing right off your mound.
"makes me want to have you - you and her," and gojo's revelling in the slick of your pussy, now throwing his head back without shame.
and when your walls start to flutter, when you start writhing in his grasp, pressed right against his chest with your legs knocked back as far as they reach on other side of his broad frame, he feels himself unravel. feels the rhythmic quake of your tight cunt literally milk him dry, letting pools of thick, white seed plug within you, and he almost shakes and tears up himself, at the idea of claiming you like this.
later, he has you resting against his chest and the knot in his chest, that nasty plague that sent him afoul has disappeared, and gojo feels as though he's about to start purring, from the feeling of your nails trailing little shapes over his skin (little hearts, perhaps?) and how soft your hair feels under his own hands. he can't resist himself from pressing his lips softly to your forehead, "happy?"
you laugh, a genuine, soft sound that erupts from your chest as you press your bare body into him, "you have no idea."

#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru x reader#gojo smut#gojo satoru smut#gojo x reader#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#works#daphworks
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Chasing Cars | ch 2 (jjk)
☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?
☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader, Hoseok x female!reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)
☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff
☆warnings: mentions of The Incident, Jungkook is a menace. curses, mentions of a character getting cheated on, alcohol, mentions of ghosting, explicit content: sex toy (vibrator), they do it in a public space (an empty lab), degradation, sir, thigh grinding, dom!Hobi, he's a bit of a dick, pussy slapping, breast/nipple play, jerking off, praise, fingering, ass slapping, protected sex, anal fingering, mentions of mouth fucking, masturbation (female and male), OC has some dirty little fantasies about her older brother's best friend, squirting, she overhears Jungkook watching porn
☆word count: 10.2k
☆a/n: new week new chapter!! enjoy reading everyone <3 thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing, you guys are the best <3
☆series masterpost
☆add yourself to the taglist here!
☆☆☆☆☆
If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?
Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol
☆☆☆☆☆
Sunday, January 20th
You wake up with a start, heart beating out of your chest. It takes you a moment to collect yourself until you realize that you were actually woken up by a sound. It takes you a moment longer before you understand that the sound is Jungkook cursing.
You frown, glancing towards his wall in the hopes that he’ll shut up, and it’s almost like he hears you: he dwindles into silence after a few seconds, and you’re stuck wondering why he was cursing like that in the first place. You don’t think you’ll have the answer anytime soon, so you lie back down – when did you even sit up?
You shut your eyes, though it seems sleep will evade you again. Indeed, your focus is zeroed in on the sounds coming from Jungkook’s room, probably of him getting ready for work. It also makes you realize that you really do need to go to the bathroom, so you decide to head there before actually going back to sleep.
You get out of the bathroom in time with Jungkook getting out of his room, and he stops in the doorway, eyes widening as he watches you across the living room. You’re only wearing an oversized sweater, and you don’t miss the way his gaze dips to your legs once before returning to your face.
Only then does he break into a smirk, leaning against the door as he folds his arms on his chest. “Long night?” he asks teasingly.
You know you’ve flushed red when he chuckles darkly. “Not really, no,” you choke out.
“You’re cute when you blush, peach,” he jokes, glancing towards your room. “He’s still in there?”
You don’t know if it’s because of the way your face falls, but Jungkook’s smirk dies down, concern moving on his features instead. You hate it, so you quickly say, “He left last night, you didn’t hear?”
His tongue plays with his piercing for a moment. “Not gonna lie, I put earbuds in the moment I started hearing you guys.”
Your blush deepens, and you’d facepalm if the gesture in and of itself wasn’t so embarrassing. Instead, you look away from him, glancing at the front door as you replay Hoseok leaving in your mind. “Sorry,” you apologize.
You don’t even know what for. Your goal was to make Jungkook uncomfortable, so why do you feel like shit now that he’s talking to you about it?
“It’s fine,” he says, pushing up from the door frame as he walks towards the kitchen. “Though I didn’t think you were like that, peach.”
You furrow your brows, and you can’t help but follow him into the kitchen. “What do you mean?”
He’s got his head in the fridge, and he straightens, holding a protein shake in his hands. He takes a sip of it, eyes finding yours, before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he kicks the fridge door shut.
“Paper-thin walls, remember?”
You purse your lips, cocking your head to the side. “Thought you said you put earbuds on?”
His tongue pokes his cheek, and he looks away from you, chuckling in disbelief. When he remains silent, you spy his ear turning pink, and you hold in a smirk.
“I did,” he says. “A little too late.”
“Are you saying you listened to us?” you let out, gasping in fake outrage.
“Peach.” His doe eyes slide back to you, and they pierce right into your soul as your gazes connect. “I know you’ve been listening to me. If you were just trying to make me jealous, you can say so.”
Your mouth falls open, and every word in the dictionary flies out the window as you just stare at him, embarrassment slowly creeping in. Very slowly, its fingers licking up your spine until they’re clutching your heart.
“Why would I want to make you jealous?” you ask, voice suddenly far less confident and a lot smaller.
He takes another sip. “You tell me.”
You don’t know what to tell him. All that you know is that you wish last night never happened, and you wish Jungkook would stop looking at you. He looks effortlessly good, even so early in the morning, and really, it’s unfair.
Unfair that you’re stuck living with him for months without Taehyung being here.
When he understands that you’re not going to say anything else, Jungkook shrugs, glancing at the time on his phone. He meets your startled gaze again, before saying, “I have to head to work.” He pauses, tongue playing with his piercing and then continues, “If you don’t want me having sex here, it’d be fair if you didn’t have it either.”
You nod once, and when he walks towards you, you quickly step out of the way. It makes him laugh and he stops right in front of you, head tilted down. His hair isn’t styled back this morning, and it falls in his eyes, hiding their innocence from you.
Because, for some reason, you’ve always thought he has innocent eyes. You know better than to think his soul is innocent, though.
“Unless you’d like me to keep doing it?” he asks, voice low and husky. It makes your spine tingle, especially as he adds, “You sure sounded like you liked it last time.”
So he was aware of the Incident. You flush furiously crimson, and you refuse to meet his gaze. But when one of his fingers touches your chin ever so lightly to make you tilt your head back, you’re too weak to resist.
“Don’t be embarrassed, peach,” he purrs. “I was pretty turned on myself last night.”
Your lips part as your gaze meets his, and you don’t miss the way his eyes dart to your mouth once.
“I won’t do it again,” you say, voice shaking a little.
It clearly isn’t what Jungkook wanted you to say because he frowns, taking a step away from you. If he’s aware that he’s got your heart racing in your chest, he doesn’t let it show.
“Noted,” he answers curtly, and he walks out of the kitchen without saying anything else.
You don’t move, a trembling hand going over your chest as if it’ll calm down the beats of your heart. Evidently, it doesn’t do anything, and you listen to Jungkook as he puts a coat on, before going out the door.
You think you weren’t breathing until the front door shuts behind him, and even then, you’re not sure you’re breathing at all. It takes everything in you to be able to walk back to your room, and you sit on your bed, eyes darting to your phone.
The screen is lit up, and you quickly grab it to see you received a couple of texts while you were sleeping, and another one just now. That last one is from Hoseok, and you immediately open the notification to see what he sent.
[9:02 am] Hobi: hey, sorry for last night. I feel like a dick for leaving like that.. any chance I can make it up to u today?
You purse your lips, right as relief washes through you. Because no matter how much you agree with the fact that you two shouldn’t do feelings, his leaving so quickly made you feel used. It’s also a good distraction from what just happened with Jungkook, which you reckon you need.
[9:04 am] You: no worries I get it. What do u wanna do
You turn off your phone, grabbing your clothes to take a quick shower. Mostly because you don’t want to text him too quickly, but also because you haven’t showered since before the party yesterday, and you usually always shower before going to bed.
You comb your hair when you get out of the shower, wrapping it in a clean towel before heading back to your room. Even then, you don’t touch your phone, instead busying yourself with putting your dirty clothes away in a hamper. You plop down on your bed, thoughts going back to the conversation with Jungkook, and you feel a coil tightening at the bottom of your stomach.
Because you’re only now realizing that he was hitting on you. He was clearly hitting on you, in his own sick and twisted way. And the worst part is, just thinking about it makes you feel turned on…
You can’t wait for Taehyung to be back from his semester abroad.
Thursday, January 24th
Your biochemistry class is boring. Nabi is dozing off next to you, and you took a couple of pictures already that you shared in the group chat you now have.
Indeed, you ended up hanging out with Hoseok, Namjoon, Yoongi, Nabi and Ria on Sunday morning, getting brunch together, and for convenience Hoseok created a group chat.
It’s been lively since then, with everyone sending their share of memes and funny pictures. Except Yoongi – Yoongi seems like he’s a ghost in the conversation, except for the laughing reacts that he’s put on some of the memes. The picture of Nabi quickly gains you a lot of laughing emojis, and Namjoon sends,
[11:24 am] Joonie: Yah she should pay attention if she wants good grades!
You laugh-react to Namjoon’s message but don’t say anything, though you know that Nabi is going to have to talk about it for the next fifty days. You then try to focus on the class, watching the minutes go by on the clock by the door more than anything. You’re struggling to stay awake, eyes heavy with sleep, but you manage to make it through the end of class without fully falling asleep. When the professor finally dismisses the class, you shake Nabi awake, laughing as you notice she’s drooled on the desk.
“Gosh,” you say, pointing at it. “Who were you dreaming of?”
Nabi blinks, a little confused, but her cheeks still turn red. “No one.”
You gather your things as you get up, throwing her a no-bullshit look. She ignores you, shrugging her shoulders like the little angel that she is, and then you make your way to the cafeteria, Nabi in tow. You meet with Ria, who’s finished her classes for the day – you’re unlucky, you still have another one in the afternoon. You sit together, chatting about everything and nothing, the conversation slowly inching towards Namjoon. You’re not surprised, and you tune it out as you work on a lab report.
“Hobi!” Ria yells happily, motioning at someone.
As much as you and Hoseok decided to be friends, you still feel a little awkward as he makes his way towards you, sitting next to Nabi across from you. “How are you girls doing?” he asks, but his eyes linger on you.
“Fantastic,” Nabi answers. “Though, not looking forward to the genetics class this afternoon.”
“Come on.” Hoseok laughs, shaking his head. “That’s the easiest class of the first year.”
“Still boring,” Nabi counters. “I don’t know how I’ll stay awake.”
“Bitch,” you let out, chuckling. “You were sleeping all morning.”
She shrugs her shoulders innocently, like she had in the class a moment ago. “Didn’t sleep last night.”
Hoseok looks down at the table, a knowing look painting his features, and Ria narrows her gaze at Nabi.
“Why?” she asks. “You left the library before Y/n and I did.”
Nabi purses her lips, cheeks tinting pink. Hoseok still sports the knowing smirk, and you furrow your brows.
Did something happen between them?
“I just couldn’t sleep,” Nabi answers carefully.
At that, Hoseok snorts, finally looking towards her. “I know someone else that couldn’t sleep last night.”
Now, Nabi turns crimson.
“Did something happen between you guys?” you blurt.
Hoseok looks startled, and Nabi bursts out laughing. “What the fuck?” she says.
“Namjoon was speaking to someone on the phone all night.”
Hoseok’s input has your eyes widen, quite at the same time as Ria replies, “His girlfriend, I presume?”
It is disapproving, and awkwardness fills the space between you all. Nabi’s eyes drop to the table, ashamed. “I mean… he was just helping with some homework.”
Ria scoffs. “So that’s what you do when I’m not at the dorm?”
Indeed, Ria ended up coming over to your place, mostly because she didn’t want you to walk home alone so late after your trip to the library. She slept in Taehyung’s bed and went home right when you woke up to shower and change before her class.
“It was nothing!” Nabi insists. “Just talking.”
Ria rolls her eyes, before getting up and grabbing her stuff. “Whatever.”
She storms away, and you look at her disappearing form, gaze wide, before looking back at Nabi and Hoseok. Hoseok looks like he wishes to disappear through the floor, and Nabi is rubbing a hand on her forehead.
You know exactly what happened. Ria was cheated on in her last relationship, and needless to say, it’s fucked her up a little.
“Just talking?” you repeat.
Nabi meets your gaze, clearly looking for salvation. “I promise, nothing happened.”
Hoseok clears his throat, and both of you look towards him. “Namjoon and his girlfriend broke up last weekend.”
Nabi looks far more surprised than you, if that’s possible. Clearly, Namjoon didn’t tell her.
“They did?”
Hoseok nods, sparing you a glance before he continues, “It’s been a long time coming. They’ve been long distance for over a year, and… yeah.”
“Oh,” Nabi voices. Her eyes drop to the table, where her half-eaten salad is still waiting for her. “I should find Ria and tell her.”
She nods once as if she needs to convince herself, and then she quickly puts her stuff away. It dawns on you that you’re soon going to be left alone with Hoseok, and you try to meet Nabi’s gaze, try to find an excuse as to why you should go with her. But you reckon she and Ria probably need to speak about it without you, for the sake of their friendship.
Nabi waves goodbye when she’s done picking up her stuff, and then she’s walking away, following in Ria’s previous footsteps until she’s out of the cafeteria.
There’s a moment of awkward silence, and you focus on your laptop screen as if it’s going to help, but it offers no salvation. Especially not as Hoseok is looking at you over the screen, eyes going a little dark as his features turn somber.
You gulp before meeting his gaze. “What’s up?”
He wets his lips, glancing at the seats vacated by your friends. “Sorry about that.”
“Oh,” you let out. “It’s okay, it’s whatever.”
He nods once, and as your attention returns to your computer, he fishes a sandwich out of his tote bag. He starts eating, and you fear the heavy silence is going to make you crazy, especially as you can feel his eyes on you while you type away.
“Everything okay?” you ask, refusing to meet his gaze.
“Want to skip genetics?” he answers, voice lower than you expected it to be.
For a reason unknown, it has your insides turning white hot.
“I shouldn’t.”
He chuckles, shrugging his shoulders. “Suit yourself.”
You entirely thought he was going to argue, so you can’t help but furrow your brows as you meet his gaze. “What?”
He sits back, tilting his head to the side as he surveys you. As he remains silent, you feel yourself heating up even more. The danger in his eyes is enticing, and you reckon you probably have enough time before class to find a quiet place around campus.
“The class is in forty-five minutes,” you innocently say.
Hoseok grins. “Plenty of time, don’t you think?”
“I haven’t eaten,” you admit, pursing your lips.
“If you sit at the back of the class, no one will care if you eat.”
You know he’s right. And mostly, you know he doesn’t even need to convince you. You’ve been hot and bothered since last Saturday, as you’ve been too scared to use your vibrator again after you realized Jungkook heard you.
So when Hoseok admits he’s got the keys to one of the labs, you don’t hesitate before putting your computer away, following him as he leads the way.
“I’ve never…” you start, and then you laugh awkwardly.
By the time Hoseok says, “You’ve never what?”, you’re out of the cafeteria.
“Never done anything on campus.”
He winks at you. “Glad to know I’ll be the first.”
It makes you roll your eyes as a smile tugs at the corners of your lips, but you don’t say anything as he guides you to the elevator. Another student is already waiting in front of it, and she grins at Hoseok as he stops next to her.
“Hoba!” she lets out. “I thought you had the day off today.”
He loosely hugs her before replying. “Yeah, had to come to hand an essay to Professor Evans.”
The girl glances at you. You barely recognize her, though you’re pretty sure you’ve seen her at some parties. She greets you, and you offer her a smile before she turns to Hoseok and they strike up a conversation about said essay.
She’s someone from his class, apparently, and they chat for the whole elevator ride until she exits to head wherever it is that she is going. It leaves you alone with Hoseok, and it takes all of one second before the air fills with tension again, especially as his hand brushes yours.
“Sorry about that,” he apologizes, voice low.
You wet your lips, meeting his dark gaze. “No worries,” you reply.
He nods, and to your surprise, he pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear. It makes you freeze in place, as his fingers linger on your cheek. His gaze drops to your lips, and if it wasn’t for the elevator dinging, the doors sliding open, you’re convinced he would have kissed you then and there.
Instead, his hand falls to the side, and he struts out of the elevator. You quickly follow him before the doors have time to close, and it takes about another minute before you finally reach the lab.
Hoseok glances around, making sure the hallway is empty before he unlocks the door. He pushes it open for you to walk in, and you enter the cool darkness, eyes sighing in relief.
Indeed, for some reason, you’ve always found the neon lights of the hallway to be too aggressive for your eyes.
The lab is dark, the only light being the one from behind the closed blinds. The door doesn’t have a window, and Hoseok closes it behind him, quickly locking it again. You scan your surroundings – there’s an area with white coats to your left, and to your right there are empty shelves where you imagine students leave their bags when they have a class in this lab. You drop your stuff there, before turning towards Hoseok again.
“Aren’t there cameras in here?” you ask.
He walks towards you, towering over you as he puts his tote bag next to your stuff. “The one that is supposed to film the white coats is dead,” he informs you.
You gulp as one of his long fingers finds your chin. He tilts your head back, before leaning in to press his lips against yours once. He barely kisses you, lips ghosting on your jaw before he aims for your neck. You tilt your head to the side, breath hitching in your throat, but he stills next to your ear.
“How do you know?” you ask breathlessly.
You think you can hear the smirk in his voice when he replies, “Seokjin got in trouble once right here. Someone saw him and his girlfriend come in, but they couldn’t see anything on the cameras so they let him go.”
He lightly tugs at your earlobe. “They haven’t changed the camera since then?”
“No,” Hoseok says, slightly shaking his head. “Or if they have, whoever is behind the security desk has had a couple of shows through the months.”
You let out a breathy sound as he sucks a spot underneath your ear. “Are you saying you’ve fucked some girls here?”
“Maybe?” He pauses to leave a trail of wet kisses down your neck, down to the collar of your shirt. “Is that a problem?”
Not at all. In truth, you don’t give a shit if he’s been with other people. You would assume he was – he’s an attractive man after all. If you were into him for more than just sex, maybe you’d be insulted, but right now, all you can think about is that he’s about to fuck you senseless.
“No,” you finally reply.
His teeth pull at your shirt, and then he straightens. “Come.”
You let him grab your hand, and he pulls you to where the white coats are. He pushes you into a corner, glancing behind him. You can see the camera over his shoulder, and you can only hope that it is indeed dead, because he pushes his knee between your legs as he faces you again.
“You’re such a slut,” he says against your lips. Your eyes close from the sudden proximity, and you await his next words as your insides burn. “Wanting me to fuck you here, where anyone could come in.”
You’d tell him he’s the slut, considering he’s the one that brought you here, but all you can do is grab at his shoulders when he sucks on your lower lip. You moan as his knee pushes further between your legs, thigh pressing against your pussy, and you instinctively grind, looking for some friction on your clit.
Hoseok chuckles darkly, and he straightens again.
“So fucking desperate.” He tuts, shaking his head in disapproval. “Should I punish you some more?”
Your mouth is parted as you breathe in and out quickly, eyes a little round. “Why?”
“Have you learned your lesson last weekend?”
You gulp, nodding once.
“Have you?”
“Yes.”
He cocks an eyebrow, clearly waiting for more.
“Yes, sir.”
He smirks, stealing a sudden heated kiss on your lips. You moan as his hands grab at your hips, forcing you to grind on his thigh again. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, pulling him closer, and you feel yourself go weak in the knees as he keeps you going.
“Wait,” you breathe after a moment of you fucking his thigh. He pulls away from where he buried his face in your neck, questions in his eyes. “It hurts with the fabric…” you trail off as he once again cocks an eyebrow.
“And? You think you’ve been good enough for me to take off your clothes?”
“Hobi,” you whine, and he smirks before kissing you again.
He removes his leg from between yours, hands staying on your hips. Yours move from his shoulders to the back of his neck so you can pull him closer, and he pushes you against the wall. He grunts in the kiss when you suck on his tongue, and his fingers find a home over your clothes, right against your pussy. He slaps it, hard, and you moan when his other hand sneaks under your shirt, cupping your breast through your bra.
“What do you want?” he asks.
“Please fuck me.”
He chuckles, nodding his head. “Oh, I’ll fuck you good. You won’t be able to walk to your class after.”
That only turns you on even more, and you think you’re melted lava now, burning bright red as you bubble away under Hoseok’s heated touch. Getting tired of the fabric of your bra, he pushes it up, until your breasts are free and he’s able to pinch your nipple, hard.
You moan, and he pushes his tongue in your mouth, finding yours as he laps at you.
You’re soaking your panties. At this point, you’re convinced you’re also soaking through your pants, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Hoseok has always been able to make you do whatever it is that he wants, and you don’t think it’ll ever change. Last weekend was proof enough of that.
“Take off your pants,” he commands as he steps back.
Your arms fall aimlessly to your side, but you’re quick to comply, unbuttoning your pants as Hoseok busies himself with his belt. He’s quicker than you, hands steadier than yours, and he’s freed his cock from his pants before you have time to push your pants down your legs. He strokes himself under your watchful gaze, head cocked to the side.
“I’m so fucking hard for you,” he comments, and he sounds a little surprised.
As if he didn’t expect the little action between you two to have been enough for him to get there. You reckon you aren’t surprised, especially not as you feel how wet you are once your pants and underwear are off.
The cool air of the lab makes you shiver, but Hoseok barely gives you time to realize it before he pushes a hand between your legs, collecting your juices at your entrance before bringing his fingers to your mouth.
“Taste yourself.”
You obey, and you wrap your lips around his two digits, tongue flicking at the pads. He’s still stroking his dick and, as much as you want to look down, you’re a prisoner of his gaze. All you can do is suck his fingers, hollowing your cheeks as you swirl your tongue around them.
“Good girl,” he says once he’s retrieved his fingers from your mouth.
He lets go of his dick as he searches through his pocket for his wallet. He takes it out, finding a condom. He rips the package as your hand wraps around the tip of his cock, thumb smearing the precum all around the head. He hisses but lets you do it, especially as you start stroking him, trying to copy his previous motions.
You jerk him off for a moment, and he pushes your shirt up enough so that he’s able to wrap his lips around your nipple, sucking hard. It’s your turn to hiss, though his tongue soothes the sting as he swirls it around your nipple before he moves to your other breast.
You rest your head against the wall, trying to focus on jerking him off, but when he dips two fingers in you, arching them to rub at the sweet spot inside of you, you grip him tight.
“Fuck,” he curses as he pulls away, and his fingers leave you empty. They move to retrieve the condom from the package, and he’s quick to roll it on his dick. “Turn around,” he orders.
You bite at your lip, nodding once before you do so. He grabs your hips and pulls them back before he pushes on your upper back until you’re bent, one arm resting against a shelf you find under the white coats.
Hoseok teases your entrance with his fingers again before slipping them in. He finger-fucks you for a while, adding scissoring motions to spread you wide open as you pant from the ministrations. You know he’s getting you ready for his cock, even though you reckon it’s useless.
Indeed, you’re soaked, the perspective of fucking in a public space having made you hornier than you usually are. Indeed, you think you’re already close, especially as he pushes in and out quickly, fingers rubbing you expertly.
You clench around him, and he smacks your ass with one hand. “You like that?”
“Fuck me,” you whine again, begging more than anything.
“Yes, baby,” he says as he massages your ass. “I’m going to fuck you good.”
His fingers leave you empty, and he holds your hips as he aligns himself with your entrance. His cock rubs against your clit, making you see stars before he finally pushes in. He stops with just the tip in, landing another hard slap to your ass.
The sting makes you move back, and you impale yourself on him until his dick reaches deep inside of you, splitting you wide open. He grunts, fingers digging into the supple skin of your hip, and you moan as he hits the bottom of your pussy.
“Fuck,” he curses. “You want to fuck yourself on me, mmh?”
You don’t reply, instead moving forward before pushing back again. He groans again, but then he holds you in place. When you understand that he wants you to stop, you still, glancing at him. He meets your gaze as one of his hands moves to his mouth, and he spits on his fingers.
You grab the side of the shelf hard, knuckles turning white, as he spreads your ass cheeks open, and he smears his spit on your asshole.
He’s still holding your gaze, and as you say nothing, he pushes his thumb in your ass. It hurts a little, and your eyes flutter shut as you focus on the feeling.
“Safe word?”
You shake your head no, and Hoseok doesn’t need more to start pounding into you, so hard you can’t help the loud moan that falls from your lips. You clench your walls around him, hard, and he takes that as a cue to bring his other hand to your clit. He rubs it with a consistent rhythm that’s making your legs tremble, though he’s pressing a little too hard. You know he’ll get you oversensitive in no time, so you pinch one of your nipples, focusing on that pain to remain afloat.
That’s where your orgasm finds you, a little under a minute later. Crashing against you, you moan a broken sound that probably would have been his name, and the waves of your orgasm wash over you as he keeps fucking you, fingers never faltering on your clit.
As soon as you’re down from the high, you pull his hand away from your clit. “Too sensitive,” you mutter.
He slaps your ass but says nothing as he increases the pace of his thrusts, chasing his own orgasm. It hits him as you clench your walls around him voluntarily, and he grunts loudly as he comes, dick twitching deep inside of you.
For a moment, all that fills the air is the sound of your ragged breaths, and it takes you both a while before you’re back in your bodies, coming down from the high of sex. Hoseok pulls out of you, both his dick and his thumb, and he discards the condom, tying it tightly. You put your clothes back on, shakily, as you’re still reeling from the oversensitivity. You run your hands through your hair, making sure it’s not too much of a mess before facing him.
“Damn,” you say once you’re both standing straight, gaze meeting.
Hoseok laughs. “Yeah.”
“Now I have a class to run to.”
He nods. “You do. You think you’ll be okay?”
The way he says it is cocky, and for some reason, it makes you want him again. He must have noticed, because he smirks, tilting his head to the side.
“I’ll be fine,” you say. “We should…”
“Hang out again?” he supplies as you fall silent.
You nod once. “Sometime this weekend?”
He thinks about it for a time before shaking his head no. “I’m going to visit my parents this weekend so…” he trails off.
“Oh,” you let out, shrugging your shoulders. “Just… text me?”
“In the group chat or…” he teases, and you push him as you roll your eyes. It makes him laugh, yet he still pulls you in, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Yes, I’ll text you.”
You move out of his embrace, a little embarrassed. “Good.”
He smiles, gently, and it’s so far from what he was just a moment ago, pounding into you, that you think you get whiplash.
Jeong Hoseok has a duality you don’t think you’ll ever understand. And really, it leaves you confused all through your genetics class. Nabi never shows up, which you actually are glad for. Because you’re pretty sure she would have taken one look at you and known you’ve just fucked, and you don’t think you’d be ready to deal with the questioning.
You’ve barely told them about what happened between you and Hoseok last weekend. You don’t see yourself admitting that you’re sleeping with him again. You’re just content with enjoying the friend group, and you don’t want to make things awkward for everyone else. So you’ve been keeping it to yourself, and perhaps that’s why you’ve been feeling so confused.
As you sit in the library later, trying to finish your lab report, you spy Jungkook shelving some books. He doesn’t see you or pretends he hasn’t seen you, and that, most of all, makes you realize one thing.
Hoseok isn’t the one that’s been confusing you at all. It’s been Jungkook, and what he said on Sunday morning, that’s been plaguing your every moment.
No wonder you haven’t said anything to your friends.
Wednesday, February 6th
You hate midterms. They stress you out, obviously, but also the irregular hours make it hard for you to sleep at night, and even harder to follow in your classes. It’s no wonder you end up skipping your afternoon class, heading home to take a well-deserved nap before you study more. Nabi promised to send her notes, considering you’ve sent her the notes of that genetics class she missed a few weeks ago.
It’s a good deal, and you sleep like a rock the moment you get home, face hidden in your pillow. The only downside of taking a nap is, you always feel worse when you wake up. It takes a while for you to shake the grogginess away, so when you wake up around 3:45 pm, you know you’re not going to be able to study right away. Instead, you head to the kitchen, reheating some leftover noodles you find in the fridge.
You’re halfway through your bowl when your phone rings, startling you. You glance at the screen – it’s Taehyung, on a Facetime call at that. Your heart leaps in your chest; you haven’t talked to him since he left, a month ago, except for some texting here and there to make sure that everything was okay.
You pick up the call, and it takes a few seconds before it connects, and your brother’s dumb face appears on the screen. He looks as if he’s lying in bed, or on a couch perhaps. He smiles as soon as he sees you, and you wish you could hug him through the screen.
“Hey!” he says. “How’s America going?”
“It’s cold,” you complain. “Not as great as Paris I assume.”
Taehyung laughs. “Paris is a dream, honestly. You’d love it here.”
“Duh.” You smile wide, slightly shaking your head. “I still can’t believe you just get to spend a whole semester over there.”
“You can if you want to! I’m sure your major also allows it.”
As much as it’d be fun, you don’t think Paris would be your destination. There are a couple of other places in the world that are higher up on your list, though you don’t know if you’d want to study in those places. You’re afraid it’d take the magic away, as you’ve always been too focused on your studies.
Taehyung has never been like this, so you know he’s been enjoying his time over there. And he has – he visited the Louvres last weekend, and he’s eaten so many croissants he’s convinced he’s going to get a French accent soon.
At that, you laugh, before telling him about your time here. Omitting Hoseok, obviously, but mostly omitting how Jungkook has been not so subtly flirting with you. To be fair, you’re pretty sure he was flirting with you before Taehyung left, but he’s been far bolder now. You know the blame is partly on you – after the Incident, and the revelation that he knows about it, you can see why a guy like Jungkook would be attracted.
He told you himself that he was turned on when you were with Hoseok, didn’t he?
“Hello,” Taehyung says. “Are you even listening to me?”
You shake out of your thoughts, apologizing. “Midterms have been fucking with me.”
“Oof,” Taehyung lets out. “I’m lucky my grades here don’t count in my GPA.” He winces, glancing away from the screen before resuming his attention on you. “I think I’m going to tank one of the classes.”
“RIP.”
Before you or your brother have time to say anything else, the front door unlocks. Your eyes snap to it from where you’re sitting on the couch, and Jungkook comes into view, hair ruffled by the wind outside. He catches sight of you, offering you a corner smile that makes you want to roll your eyes as your gaze settles back on your brother.
“Is Jungkook home?” Taehyung asks, loud enough for the mentioned man to look your way.
“Tae!” he lets out enthusiastically, and he kicks his boots off to make his way to your side.
You want to disappear when he sits next to you, close enough for his thigh to press against yours. He’s still clad in his coat, and you cringe at how cold it is as he leans even closer, his face appearing on your phone. “How’s Paris been going?”
“Bro, it’s fucking sick,” Taehyung answers. “They know how to party here.”
Jungkook smirks. “Any good fucks?”
Your head snaps towards Jungkook. “Bruh, why would you ask him that?”
Taehyung laughs, ignoring you. “I’ve been seeing this girl,” he admits. “Haven’t fucked yet but I’d say it’s coming.”
You wince, nose scrunching up in disgust. “Come on, I don’t want to hear about your sex life, Tae.”
“You’re a big girl now, get used to it,” Jungkook jokes.
You glare at him again, and when your eyes move back to Taehyung’s face, he’s got his brows furrowed. You don’t know why, and the expression melts to be replaced by his usual impassive mask, the one you know he uses when he’s trying to not let his emotions show on his face.
“Well, I’ve been dating her, I’m pretty sure I can tell you I’ve been going on dates?” he says, and it sounds like a question.
You narrow your eyes at him. “Kim Taehyung, why are you starting to date someone in Paris? You’re not going to do long distance.”
“She’s from our college too, chill,” he answers, rolling his eyes at you. “She’s in the exchange program.”
That gains your interest, and a smile moves on your lips. “Oh?”
“Oh?” Taehyung echoes.
“Who is she?”
He offers you a secretive smile. “Not telling before things are official.”
Taking you by surprise, Jungkook grabs your phone out of your hands. The sudden contact of his fingers on yours feels electrifying, even though it lasts just a fraction of a second before it’s gone.
“Hey!” you burst out.
“I’m sure you can tell your best friend,” Jungkook says, holding your phone out of your reach, filming his face.
“Jungkook, give me my phone!”
You can hear Taehyung laughing on his side of the line as Jungkook looks at you. “Nah.”
You sit back on the couch, folding your arms on your chest. You clench your jaw, annoyance moving through you, but you don’t say anything else as Taehyung insists that he’d rather wait before telling you. Jungkook, resolute, asks the question again, and you elbow him in the ribs.
“Ow!” he lets out. “What the fuck was that for?”
You roll your eyes. “Give me my phone.” He looks up at the ceiling in annoyance, before handing you the device. “Thank you,” you say sarcastically.
“Just wanted to get you your answer,” he replies, shrugging his shoulders. “But never mind.”
At that he gets up, sauntering away while taking off his coat. You watch him go, far too confused, but Taehyung doesn’t let you think about it for too long. Instead, he says he’s got to go, but that he’s glad you two talked. You tell him to be safe, and then you hang up.
The sudden silence in the living room makes you glance towards the kitchen as you hear Jungkook rummaging in the refrigerator. It takes all but five seconds for him to yell, “Hey, are you eating my noodles?”
Your gaze widens as it falls on the noodles you’ve been eating, forgotten on the coffee table. You were convinced they were yours earlier, but now that Jungkook’s said it…
You jump out of your seat, grabbing them as you head to the kitchen. “Are they yours? I was convinced they were mine.”
He seems pissed, but when you hand him the bowl, he cocks an eyebrow. “You’ve eaten half of them.”
“There’s still plenty left!” you point out. “I’m sorry.”
“Peach,” he says, smirking. “It’s okay, I’ll eat something else.”
The nickname makes your cheeks burn. “No, really, take them.”
He hesitates for a few seconds more before shrugging his shoulders and grabbing the half-eaten bowl. “Thanks.”
You don’t reply, not knowing what to say as he moves back to the living room. Still hungry, you grab some grapes from the fridge before heading to your room, figuring you should study now. You get comfortable at your desk, studying for your next midterm. It goes well for a few hours, but when the sun has long since set, you hear Jungkook opening the front door, greeting someone.
For a moment, you’re afraid he’s invited a girl over, but it turns out to be Jimin. You relax in your chair, continuing to study, eyes growing heavy with every sentence that you read. Luckily enough, you don’t have a morning class tomorrow, having the week off before the midterm to “study”. So you push through, knowing that it doesn’t matter if you go to bed late tonight.
You can’t focus on your laptop anymore when you hear Jungkook cursing at Jimin from the living room. It’s loud, and you only then realize that the TV is on, and they’re clearly playing some game. Just like that, what was left of your concentration flies out of the window, and you get up to go see what they are up to.
Turns out that they are playing Mario Kart, and from the looks of it, Jungkook is losing. He’s leaning towards the TV, elbows resting on his knees as he concentrates, and Jimin has a shit-eating grin on his lips. The latter’s eyes flicker to you for half a second before he resumes his attention on the television.
“Hey,” he greets you, adding your name at the end. “Want to play?”
You move closer so you can see the screen, and you watch as they drive the rainbow road. “I’m supposed to be studying.”
Jungkook curses loudly, and you watch his character fall from the road. You laugh, right as Jimin finishes the race.
“JK, you suck,” Jimin teases.
Jungkook is pouting next to him, half in concentration and half in annoyance, and he looks stupidly cute like this. You hate it, so you resume your attention on the screen to watch him finish in eleventh place, right in front of Princess Peach.
“Fuck off,” Jungkook drawls, and his gaze slides to where you’re standing. It seems he thinks you are salvation because his gaze lights up. He says your name enthusiastically, adding, “My second favourite Kim sibling!”
You purse your lips, furrowing your brows. “Fuck off,” you tell him.
“Can you please go get some beer from the fridge, since you’re standing?” he adds, begs, ignoring you.
He offers you his best impression of puppy eyes, and you want to hate him because, damn, he’s good. Too good, and you shake your head in disapproval, though you still turn around and walk over to the kitchen. You fish two beers out of the fridge and thinking better of it, you grab a third one for yourself. You head back to the living room then, handing the cans to the guys.
“Thank you,” Jimin says, but all Jungkook does is wink at you, a smirk playing on his lips.
It makes something warm blossom in your chest, and as he glances down at your naked legs, the feeling soon trickles down to your core. Indeed, you’re only wearing a pair of pajama shorts, and luckily enough, you’ve been shaving your legs religiously now that you’ve been sleeping with Hoseok again.
Your cheeks flush, and you try to figure out where to sit. Jimin is leaning against the armrest, back propped up against a pillow, and Jungkook is in the middle of the couch, next to the L-shaped part. It only leaves you with the option of sitting next to him, and you clench your jaw, though you still make it to his side.
You sit as far from him as you can, grabbing the blanket you always leave on the back of the couch to hide your legs, lest Jungkook’s gaze burns your skin more.
“You wanna play?” Jungkook asks.
You shake your head no. “Just taking a break from studying.”
“With a beer?”
He sounds disapproving, so you glance at him. “Yeah?”
He snorts, but he doesn’t say anything else as Jimin starts another race. You watch them play, cheering for Jimin even though Jungkook is winning. Jimin, ecstatic, keeps drifting into the wall, but he manages to get a blue shell on the last turn, which he immediately launches at Jungkook.
Jungkook curses loudly again as you giggle with Jimin, watching his character – Wario – spinning on the screen. He still manages to finish the race fourth, with Jimin right behind him.
You’ve been drinking your beer fast, and after the next race, Jimin manages to convince you to play. You choose Princess Peach, obviously, right as Jimin moves away to go to the bathroom.
“Really, Princess Peach?” Jungkook teases, a smirk adorning his lips. “You’re trash with her.”
“The character you choose changes nothing,” you say, glaring at him. “Let me be.”
“Right,” he says, laughing. He leans back into the couch, taking a sip from his beer. “You did earn your nickname after all.”
“Please.” You roll your eyes, before meeting his gaze. “You know I hate that nickname.”
“Hence why I’ll keep using it, peach.”
You punch him in the shoulder, clearly not hard enough to hurt. As a matter of fact, it hurts your hand more than it probably hurts him as your fist collides with his hard shoulder muscles, and you grit your teeth as you sit back in your spot.
“You’re annoying.”
He grins at you, a toothy grin that makes you want to punch him again, in the face this time. “You love it,” he teases.
Before you can say no, Jimin walks out of the bathroom, and the moment is over. You go back to playing, and you end up on a winning streak, which earns you a lot of curses from Jungkook. Right when you’re about to go for a fourth race, Jungkook claiming that this one is going to be his race, Jimin receives a call.
“It’s Sera,” he says as an explanation, and he walks away to take the call in the kitchen, away from you and Jungkook.
Jungkook immediately turns towards you. “Have you been practicing? You were trash last time we played.”
You snort. “I have better things to do with my free time than to practice playing Mario Kart.”
He cocks an eyebrow at you before shaking his head. “Whatever, I’ll beat you in this race.”
“Good luck with that,” you tease. “Didn’t you finish last in the last one?”
To your surprise, he leans towards you. He’s close enough for you to feel his breath fanning on your face, and you hold yours as he offers you a smirk and a cocked eyebrow.
“At least I finished.”
You don’t know what he’s referring to, so you offer him a quizzical look. “What?”
He chuckles, and one of his hands pats your thigh over the blanket. It still burns, and you gulp.
“Pretty sure that guy you’ve been fucking hasn’t made you finish.”
You flush crimson. “Why the fuck would you think that?”
You hope he can’t hear the furious beats of your heart because you’re pretty sure you’re about to go into cardiac arrest.
“Heard you sucking his dick, and then you tell me he left. He didn’t take care of you, did he?”
The way Jungkook is looking at you right now makes you feel new. Seen. As if no one’s ever looked at you that way before.
“I deserved it,” you reply, throat dry. You try swallowing, but it only makes you gulp again.
“Come on, peach. What did you do to deserve that?”
He’s even closer now. Eyes dropping to your lips as you tentatively wet them, and you feel yourself leaning back. Mostly because you think you’re going to explode if you don’t move.
Jeon Jungkook is dangerous for your sanity.
“Ghosted him,” you admit.
That takes Jungkook by surprise. He starts laughing, shaking his head. “You, ghosting someone?”
Luckily enough, as he laughed he sat back in his spot, and you breathe easier with the renewed distance between you.
“Yeah?”
Jungkook chuckles again. “For some reason, I thought you were a hopeless romantic.”
“Why?”
He shrugs, and you both glance towards the kitchen from which Jimin emerges. Jungkook never answers your question as Jimin announces that he’s going to play one last race before he’ll have to leave, and you’re forced to let the conversation go as he starts the race.
This time around, you can’t focus. You keep falling off the track, hands clammy as your mind replays the conversation with Jungkook. As it reminds you of just how Jeon Jungkook’s gaze was burning on you a moment ago, and you drive into a wall on the second turn.
“Fuck,” you curse.
“Distracted?” Jungkook asks, and the smirk tells you enough for you to understand what just happened.
He was trying to distract you. You fume, focusing on the screen with new vigour as you try to pass Jungkook. He notices your intent, but when he laughs, you once again run into a wall, slowing you down enough that you fall back to the tenth position.
When Jungkook passes the finish line first, he cheers loudly, winking your way. You glare at him, and Jimin laughs at the two of you, though he says nothing. You wonder if he’s heard part of your conversation with Jungkook – if he has, you reckon your brother is going to give you shit for it soon. You can only hope that he hasn’t, because as much as you love Taehyung, you don’t want him to be an overbearing asshole.
Jimin leaves, wishing you and Jungkook a good night before disappearing into the soft snowfall outside. You don’t move from the couch, and when Jungkook heads to the kitchen, you put your controller down, stretching as you yawn.
To your surprise, Jungkook comes back with another beer for each of you.
“What are you doing?” you ask.
“Don’t you still want to play?” he says as he sits next to you, and electricity courses through your blood as you notice he’s closer now.
“Not really,” you admit, yet you still accept the beer that he hands you.
“Mind if I play something else, then?”
You shrug your shoulders. “Nah, go on. I’ll just drink this and go to bed.”
“Tired of me?” he teases, smirking.
You roll your eyes, but don’t reply to that.
“What made you think that I’m a hopeless romantic?” you ask after a few seconds, going back to your previous conversation.
He plays with his piercing, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Have you seen your brother? It wasn’t far-fetched to think you’d be like him.”
He’s not wrong. Taehyung is a romantic, through and through. It’s one of the reasons why he loves Paris so much – the city of love, where he’s himself finding love at the moment, it seems. He’s been that way for as long as you can remember, only having dated a girl once in his life all through high school, splitting because she decided to go to an Ivy League college on the other side of the country.
“Right,” you say.
Jungkook switches games to Smash, not saying anything else. It seems the conversation is over, and you watch him play a match as you sip your beer, slower than the other one. It makes you realize that you don’t usually hang out with Jungkook, and you reckon you have nothing to tell him.
There’s usually always a buffer between the two of you, be it Taehyung or Jimin.
“How have your midterms been going?” he asks all of a sudden, right as you watch his character being thrown out of the screen.
“Huh,” you let out. “It’s been okay,” you admit. “Just stressful, and a lot of studying.”
He glances at your beer. “Sorry for interrupting your studying tonight.”
“Nah, all good,” you reassure him. “I needed a break. I pulled an all-nighter last night.”
He throws you a disapproving look that makes you shrug your shoulders as if to say ‘it’s whatever’. He doesn’t say anything though, waiting until his match ends to speak again.
“You shouldn’t pull all-nighters, they’re bad for your health.”
“It’s fine,” you insist. “I had a midterm this morning, didn’t really have a choice.”
He pulls at his piercing, nodding once. “Fair enough. What are you doing still up though?”
Right on cue, you yawn again. “I’m going to head to bed soon,” you admit. “But I took a nap this afternoon and I always struggle with sleeping after.”
“Pretty sure you’ve got a little friend that can help you with that.”
Your mouth falls open in surprise, but Jungkook’s attention is focused on the screen as another match begins.
“Excuse me?”
“Unless you just use your fingers?” he teases. “How do you touch yourself, peach?”
“Jungkook, shut the fuck up,” you warn.
Though his words have arousal build up inside of you, and you clench your thighs together instinctively.
“Just do whatever you did the other night,” he says, and you know he’s referring to the Incident. “You’ll sleep well after.”
You shake your head in disbelief. “You’re so crass.”
“Yet you’re still sitting next to me.”
You watch his profile, and your eyes fall to the ink on his arm. His forearm flexes as he uses the controller, and you force yourself to look at the screen.
“I’m just finishing my beer.”
He glances at you once, and you think you could drown in the darkness in his eyes. His gaze is gone too fast for you to do just that, but you still feel your pulse racing.
“Relax, peach,” he tells you, voice suddenly husky. It has the opposite effect of making you relax, and you wet your lips as he continues, “Masturbating is only human. You shouldn’t be ashamed of it.”
“Still don’t think I should be discussing that with you,” you say after a few seconds of electric current swimming in your blood.
He chuckles manly. “Fair enough. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”
In truth, he did quite the opposite, but you don’t have it in you to tell him. You don’t want to tell him, don’t want to encourage his behaviour when it feels like danger in its purest form.
“All good,” you say, and you’re aware you sound breathless. As a matter of fact, you are breathless, and you know Jungkook heard it too. Know that the look he throws you is filled with lust, sinfully so, and you know you need to leave this room.
He’s your brother’s best friend, after all.
“I’m…” you trail off. He nods once to encourage you to continue, gaze still burning on you even though that means he’s losing his game. “I’m going to go to bed now.”
He glances at your beer. “You’re done with that?”
He’s a little shit. He’s a little shit, and he clearly knows it.
“I’ll finish it in my room.”
His tongue darts out to play with his piercing as his big doe eyes narrow. “Alright. Good night, peach.”
You nod once, and you get up from the couch. The blanket falls from your legs, and you’re all too aware of how he’s looking at you like he’s about to devour you.
“Good night.”
And then you flee, core heated up and heart beating out of your chest. You’re convinced you can feel his gaze boring a hole between your shoulder blades, but you don’t turn around to confirm. You refuse to turn around to confirm, lest you’re never going to be able to make it to your room.
You hate this. Hate that he’s got you hot and bothered too much for you to be able to settle in bed comfortably. Hate that you find yourself seeking your vibrator in your night table.
You only sigh in relief when you’ve got it pressed against your clit through your underwear. And you’ve soaked through your panties already. They’re sticky against you, but you can’t bring yourself to move them to the side. Not for a while, not until you’ve hidden your face in your bed cover to muffle your sounds, if you make any.
No, it takes you a moment before you finally decide to push them to the side, and the direct contact on your clit has you arching your back, stars swimming in the periphery of your vision. You think about Jungkook. Remember the sounds that he makes while he fucks, remember the words that he’s told you.
You remember his big eyes, filled with sudden lust for you. You imagine him murmuring his dangerous words right in your ear, lips moving against you, and the thought of him pushing his dick in you is enough to send you over the edge, vision flashing with white light for so long that you think you’ve gone blind. And then you push the vibrator inside of you, not surprised when it slides right in with how wet you are.
You’re aware of the squelching sounds it makes, but you can’t bring yourself to care. All you can do is imagine being impaled on Jungkook’s dick instead, imagine his inked hand wrapping around your neck as he pounds into you.
In your fantasies, he fucks you even better than Hoseok does. He fucks you into ecstasy, fucks you until you’re high with it, and you go dumb. Until all that’s left is his dick, and it’s no surprise when you muffle a loud moan in the bed cover as you squirt, your juices covering the hand you’re fucking yourself with.
And still, you can’t stop. You turn on your side, hide your face in your pillow as tears swim in your gaze with the intensity of your pleasure. You imagine Jungkook on his side of the wall, imagine him stroking his cock, listening to you choking on Hoseok’s dick, remember him admitting to being turned on by it…
Your other hand moves between your legs, finds your sensitive clit and starts rubbing insistent circles on it, right as another knot starts forming in your lower stomach. You move the vibrator inside of you faster, time your motions with the circles on your clit, and soon enough, a new orgasm finds you, slams into you so hard you think you’ll lose your mind.
Only then are you able to stop, turning off your vibrator and putting it down on the bed next to you, hands shaking slightly. You don’t move for a long time as you swim in the aftereffect of your pleasure, and it takes you a while to decide to go clean up. Clearly, you need a cold shower, but first, you chug what was left of the beer, needing to numb your mind so you can’t be embarrassed by what just happened.
You put your pajama shorts back on, grab a clean pair of underwear and then stop next to the door. You listen to the sounds outside of your room, but it seems Jungkook’s not gaming anymore. So you hesitantly open the door, and when you find the apartment completely dark, you sigh in relief.
You tiptoe towards the bathroom, slowing down in front of Jungkook’s door. There’s a faint red light under his door, coming from the LED lights you know he’s hung in his room, and you wonder what he’s doing in there.
Through the door, you hear some faint feminine moaning and instinctively bite your lips. You only realize you’ve stopped in front of his door when you hear him curse lowly, and then the moaning is interrupted. He’s watching porn. You’re painfully aware that he’s watching porn, jerking off just on the other side of his closed door.
You reckon you will really need the cold shower after all.
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☆☆☆☆☆
Oooooof these two I swear... how did we like this chapter? Good? Not good? Let me know!!
All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2024. Do not copy, repost or translate
#chasing cars ch 2#jungkook smut#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#jungkook x you#jungkook x reader#jungkook fic#jungkook#jjk smut#jjk angst#jjk fluff#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk fic#jjk#chasing cars#chasing cars series#btswritersclub#jeon jungkook
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𝐹𝑅𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑇 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐹𝐿𝐼𝑅𝑇𝐴𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁

↳ mattheo riddle x fem!reader (best friends, flirting)
↳ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 : 1.4k
𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 : exploring a haunted house isn’t very pleasant… except when your flirty best friend mattheo is with you.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
you never should’ve let the boys convince you to sneak out after curfew.
the slytherin common room had been buzzing with energy earlier, filled with laughter and stories about the supposedly haunted house at the border of the forbidden forest. you’d been reading your book, half listening to what your friends were saying as they argued about whether or not they believed in these rumours, or if it was just another one of the castle’s unsolved mysteries.
“it’s not even that far,” theo had said casually, grinning. “we’ll be back before anyone notices.” and of course, you didn’t wanna be the only one to back out. not when you were the only girl in the group, always trying to prove yourself to them. not when you wanted to keep that confident and fierce image you had. and especially not when mattheo riddle was watching you with that usual smirk of his, his dark eyes practically daring you to say no.
✩✩✩✩
so here you were tonight, standing outside some old crumbling building that once had been called a house. the full moon hung high in the sky, casting eerie shadows around you and the boys. the air was colder here too, sending shivers down your back and under the knitted sweater you were wearing. but, of course, you weren’t gonna let anyone know that.
enzo and blaise were already thrilled when they pushed open the door, making plans and chatting excitedly about the little nighttime adventure you were having. draco and theo strode confidently behind them, following them inside and leaving you standing next to mattheo, who was staring at you with crossed arms, looking calmer than you’d even seen him.
“scared yet ?” he asked, his voice low and teasing. you rolled your eyes and scoffed, pretending you didn’t notice the way your heart rate sped up - from the alluring boy or the frightening house next to you, that you didn’t know. “please. this place is barely standing. the only thing i’m worried about is the roof caving in.”
he chuckled at your answer and leaned closer “don’t worry. if it does, i’ll protect you.”
your stomach flipped, and this time you knew it had nothing to do with whatever ghosts were inside that house. the brunette boy was the only human being who had such an effect on you, and you hated it. “ghosts be damned,” you muttered, shaking your head as you followed the others inside. “i don’t need your protection.”
“that we’ll see, love” mattheo said behind you, barely above a whisper.
inside, the house was somehow creepier than you’d imagined. there was dust everywhere, and when the floor creaked beneath your steps, you understood why all these rumours had been invented in the first place. despite the darkness, you could see the faded paintings on the wall, following you as you walked down the narrow hallway. at some point you could’ve sworn one of the figures on the portraits moved, but when you turned to look at it, nothing.
a couple of feet away, blaise was laughing at something draco had said, but you were too busy scanning the dark corners of the house to listen to their conversation. theo was already taking about splitting up, which of course, only managed to make the anxiety tighten in your chest.
“everyone, make groups !” the boys declared, clearly excited and proud of their idea. “makes it more fun”
before you could protest, mattheo was at your side again. you’d been hyper aware of his presence behind you for the past couple of minutes, and now there he was, grinning down at you as your shoulders brushed. “well, looks like we’re partners, then.” you shot him a look. “convenient.”
“hey, you’ll thank me later,” he said with a wink, and it took everything in you not to make another sarcastic remark. still, you couldn’t help but feel a little relieved now, knowing you wouldn’t walk through this scary place alone.
the two of you silently ventured down another hallway, away from where the others were heading. the floorboards creaked with every step you took, the shadows of your tall figures stretching out against the wall as you moved deeper into the house. it was unnervingly quiet, but the sound of mattheo’s steady breaths and confident footsteps reassured you a little.
the brown eyed boy glanced at you, his pupils gleaming with amusement. “you’re quiet, getting nervous ?” you muttered a barely audible “i’m fine” though you couldn’t ignore the quickening of your pulse. you hated haunted places, or even darkness in general, but you’d rather get crucio-ed than admit that to him.
he moved closer, his warm breath hitting your neck, and you found yourself unconsciously leaning towards him when he spoke, “you can hold my hand if you get scared.” you glared at him, grateful the obscurity of the scene hid the blush on your cheek, “in your dreams.”
he laughed softly but he didn’t push it, still, his presence was oddly comforting. it made you feel a little less like something was about to jump out from the shadows, and a little more like you wanted him even closer.
somehow, the air in the house seemed to grow colder the further you walked. every once in a while, you’d hear something : a creak, a whisper, maybe just the wind, but it sets your nerves on edge.
suddenly, a loud bang echoed from one of the rooms down the hall and you jumped, grabbing mattheo’s arm without even thinking. your heart raced, and you cursed under your breath when you realised what had just happened.
“told you” he said, a grin slowly spreading across his face as he looked down at where your hand gripped his hand. you scowled, quickly letting go. “that was just instinct.” still smiling, he nodded “sure, sure…” but then his gaze softened, and his voice dropped. “don’t worry, i’ve got you.”
something in his tone made your breath catch, and for a second, you forgot where you were. the haunted house, the cold, the creepy portraits, all of it faded as you stared up at him, trying to figure out if he was being serious or if this was more of his usual flirting.
before you could say anything, another loud sound echoed from upstairs. this time, it wasn’t just a bang. it was footsteps. slow, deliberate footsteps moving across the ceiling. you froze, every muscle in your body tensing as you looked up. riddle stepped in front of you, his usual playful expression gone and replaced by something more serious.
“stay close,” he whispered and you nodded as you followed him up the creaky stairs , ignoring the tightening in your throat. each step felt heavier than the previous one and the closer you got to the top floor, the louder the sound became. you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone, or something, was watching you.
mattheo’s hand brushed against yours again, and this time you didn’t pull away. you were too focused on the shadows that seemed to move on their own, on the way the cold seemed to press in on you from all sides.
“do you trust me ?” he asked quietly. you looked up at him, surprised by the seriousness in his voice. he’d always been flirty and playful when it came to you, blurring the lines between friendship and more. however, tonight, things felt different. despite everything, you nodded “yeah…”
he squeezed your hand lightly, his hand never leaving yours. “good, because i’m not letting anything happen to you.”
“oi !” theo’s voice echoed through the hall, startling the both of you and shattering the blissful bubble you were in. you quickly dropped mattheo’s hand and stepped back, but it was too late.
theo was grinning, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed, looking far too amused for someone in a haunted house, and for your liking. “well, well, well… look at you two getting all cozy up here.” your face heated up immediately, but mattheo just smirked, clearly unfazed. “jealous ?” theo proceeded to snort, “of you ? never.”
he glanced between the two of you, and the teasing look in his eyes made you wanna disappear. “we’re heading back, this place is more boring than we thought it would be. meet us downstairs and don’t get lost… or, you know, distracted.”
with that, he turned around and disappeared back down the dusty stairs, leaving you and mattheo standing there in awkward silence. you could feel your chest thumping as you tried to figure out what to say, looking at the old wallpaper that was falling apart instead of meeting his gaze.
“see ?” he whispered, leaning down just enough for you to hear. “told you i’d protect you. even from theo’s terrible sense of humour.” you groaned and pushed him slightly, the banter between you settling back down, “shut up !”
you may have hated haunted houses, but the truth was, you kind of liked the way his hand felt in yours.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
a/n : hey ! this is me making my weekly appearance on this app, cause i just HAD to write about this request
please comment and reblog ! tag list (comment if you wanna be added) @tateshifts @redeemingvillains @helendeath @jolly4holly @larmesdevanille @dexoq @reys-letters @shiftingwithmars @shiftingwithleah @fbvreadingblog @moonlightreader649 @bellatrix-lestrange5 @sp7-mr @sunkissedscribbles @chelawrites @myunperfektstorys @iris-qt @yikesitslush @clar2aa @deadsnakey @deadghosy @slut-for-fictional-men @romantasyreader28 @witchsrecs
#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle drabble#mattheo riddle fanfic#mattheo riddle angst#mattheo riddle x y/n#mattheo riddle x you#mattheo riddle fluff#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo riddle x reader#draco malfoy#tom riddle#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott#blaise zabini#lorenzo berkshire#enzo berkshire#slytherin boys pov#slytherin boys fluff#slytherin boys react#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin boys imagine#slytherin boys#harry potter fandom#shifting to hogwarts#shifting#shifter#drabble#one shot#fictional characters#marauders
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it's okay, tony stark
pairing: tony stark x teen!reader
synopsis: you get dusted after thanos' snap
genre: angst
word count: 0.9k
author's note: did i cry while writing this? yes i did
⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ THE WORLD HAD NEVER felt so quiet.
It was a strange, suffocating silence that pressed down on Tony Stark as the battlefield stretched out before him, reduced to rubble, ash, and despair. The wind carried nothing but dust, and in that dust, he could see the remnants of everyone he had fought so hard to save.
He stood there, frozen, as Peter crumbled in his arms.
"Mr. Stark, I don't feel so good," Peter had whispered, fear etched into every syllable. Tony had held him tighter, hoping to keep him here, hoping that somehow, this wasn’t real. But Peter’s body had turned to dust in his hands, slipping away, just like everything else in Tony’s life.
Now, Tony was left holding nothing, his mind still screaming, No, not him. Not Peter.
But it wasn’t just Peter.
From the corner of his eye, Tony saw you—stumbling, your legs shaky, like the very earth beneath you had begun to give way. His heart clenched, a sickening panic rising in his chest.
"Kid," Tony rasped, rushing to you. He dropped to his knees just in time to catch you before you fell. His hands clutched your arms, and then pulled you into his chest, holding you close. "No, not you too. Not you. Please."
You were his family, the one he'd found when the world had been just as dark as it felt now. He remembered that day so clearly—stumbling upon a Hydra base, expecting only weapons or enemies, but finding you. A scared seven-year-old, huddled inside a small cabinet, shaking uncontrollably, clutching a teddy bear that was too worn to offer any comfort. You had flinched when he tried to reach for you, pushing yourself deeper into that small space, as if the shadows could protect you.
"It's okay," he had whispered back then, voice gentle, soft, as if speaking too loudly would break you. It had taken time—God, so much time—but you'd eventually come out, and Tony had made a silent promise. He would protect you, no matter what.
But now, he was failing. Again.
Tony felt your body tremble against him as you fought to stay, to hold on. But you couldn't. He saw it in your eyes, the same way he'd seen it in Peter's just moments before. He couldn't lose you. Not you. Not the kid he raised, mentored, cared for more than he ever let on.
You looked up at him, your face pale, your breaths shaky, and tears welled up in your eyes—tears that you were desperately trying to hold back. Tony knew you didn’t want him to see you break. You didn’t want him to see the fear, because if you broke, then Tony would break too. And he couldn’t. He couldn’t lose you. Not like this.
You offered him a small, fragile smile. A smile meant to comfort him, even though you were the one slipping away. "It's gonna be okay," you whispered, your voice barely a breath. "You’ll find a way... I know you will."
Tony shook his head, his voice cracking as he mumbled, "No, no, no, don't... don't do this." He held you tighter, like somehow holding on would keep you here. "You're gonna be fine. I’ll fix this. I’ll fix everything, just—please." His voice broke into sobs that he couldn’t control.
You lifted a trembling hand to his cheek, wiping away a tear. Your smile faltered, but it didn’t fall. "Tony... it’s okay," you whispered.
You reached up, your hand shaking, and touched his face. Tony’s breath caught in his throat as he felt the warmth of your skin, the way your fingers trembled as if even that small movement was too much.
Tony shook his head violently, his throat burning as he held back the sobs that threatened to tear out of him. "No, don’t... don’t say that. You’re gonna be fine, you hear me? You have to be fine."
But even as he said it, he felt you slipping away. The trembling in your body started to ease, but not because you were calming down. It was because you were fading.
The tears welled in your eyes, but you didn’t let them fall. You didn’t want to cry. You didn’t want to make this harder for him. But Tony could see the truth—you were scared. You didn’t want to die.
You took one last shaky breath, your hand dropping from his face as your body began to dissolve, turning into dust that slipped through Tony’s fingers.
"Please," Tony begged, his voice raw, broken. "Please, don’t go."
But it was too late. You were already gone.
Tony knelt there, in the ruins of the world, staring at the empty space where you had been just moments before. His mind was spinning, his heart torn apart by the loss. First Peter. Now you. The two kids who had given him hope, the ones he’d sworn to protect, were gone. And he had failed.
He pressed his hands to the ground where you had been, his body shaking uncontrollably. The battlefield was quiet again, but this time it was unbearable. It was the silence of everything he had lost, everything he could never fix.
Tony could still hear your voice in his head, the last words you had spoken to him echoing in the hollow space of his heart.
"It’s okay."
But it wasn’t. None of this was okay. You were gone, and he couldn't protect you. He couldn’t stop this, and now you—his kid—were nothing but ash scattered in the wind. The weight of it all—the failures, the loss, the utter powerlessness—was crushing.
Tony buried his face in his hands, shaking uncontrollably. The tears wouldn’t stop, not now. Not when the one person who trusted him, believed in him, was gone.
All those years ago, you had been a broken, terrified child hiding in a cabinet, and Tony had promised to keep you safe. He had failed.
And this time, there was no fixing it.
#tony stark#iron man#tony stark fanfiction#tony stark imagine#tony stark angst#tony stark x teen!reader#tony stark x daughter!reader#iron dad#avengers#avengers x teen!reader#mcu#marvel cinematic universe#angst#endgame#avengers endgame#marvel mcu
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cookie, cookie !!
baking cookies with suki :3
katsuki’s been hovering around you for about 6 minutes now.
you had decides on a whim you wanted to bake some cookies, and since the holidays were coming up, now was the perfect excuse to. you were soon joined in the dorm kitchen by your grouchy boyfriend, who had just come back from his morning run.
you explained you were in the mood for cookies and he responds with a grunt. but then he proceeds to stay in the kitchen, awkwardly standing around looking at the cupboards and utensils like this is the first time he stepped foot in a kitchen before.
he then proceeds to just hover around behind you, staring over your shoulder like a child waiting to see if the cookies were done yet. you found it cute at first, but that constant scowl and scrutinizing look on his face makes you feel like you’re doing something wrong, and frankly it’s making you a little nervous and baking cookies should not be nerve racking !
“would you stop doing that ? i know what i’m doing” you snap your head to squint at him and he stiffens like he’s been caught, like he was being even remotely close to sneaky to begin with, which he wasn’t.
“m’not doin’ anything” he mutters defensively, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his sweats. “just lookin’ atcha. m’i not allowed to ?” he leans in so his nose is almost touching yours, that stupid little handsome smirk on his lips as his eyes fixate themselves on your lips before looking back up. you gulp, then you place your hand on his face and push him away lightly “you’re distracting me” you mutter, feeling your face grow hotter. he chuckles to himself before turning on his heels and leaning again the countertop.
it’s quiet for a second before you feel like calling him out as payback for teasing you “ is there a reason you’re still here ? you wanna lick the batter or something?” you quip teasingly and you snort when his face morphs into one of disgust “hell no.” he scoffs, looking at you before looking down at the batter you’re currently mixing the shit out of, screw whoever broke the mixer. “how long are ya gonna keep mixing that ?” his eyebrow raises in question
“until it’s good” you huff, taking a break from mixing to keep your fingers from cramping up. then you suddenly get an idea
“oh, suki~” you sing turning to look at him. he eyes you suspiciously, crossing his bulky arms across his chest and grunting out a suspicious “what do you want ?”
“well~” you start walking towards him, proceeding to wrap your arms around his middle and give him your best puppy eyes. his doesn’t budge but he squints at you even harder and you can basically feel him cave already “what?” he urged again.
“since you’re oh, so strong and handsome, could you please do me a favor and mix the batter for me, my handsome boyfriend?” you give him your sweetest smile and he scoffs, “what the fuck does being handsome even have to do with it ?”he mumbles. pink dusts his cheeks and he looks away from you, already feeling his resolve crumbling at your shallow praise. he hates how easily he gives in to you sometimes. you squeeze at his waist, he grunts “thought you said i was distracting you.”
you’re pouting at him, he sees it from the corner of his eye and he’s this close to blowing up. “that was before. you’d be helping me out lots now if you did this for me” you’re relentless, standing on your tippy toes to lean in close to his face cus he won’t stop leaning further away from you.
he could very easily just shove you off if he wanted to, but you have a feeling he doesn’t want to. you know he doesn’t want to when he closes his eyes shut and his eyebrows furrow and then he groans, letting his hands fall at his sides limply before glaring at you. “gimme the damn bowl.” he growls. you squeal, pressing kisses all over his face and a finisher one right on the tip of his red scrunched up nose, he grunts at you but gives you a light pat to the back, rubbing his warm hands up and down your spine. then he pinches you, you giggle. “thank you ‘suki.” he responds with a “yeah, yeah whatever.”
he grabs the bowl from your hands starts mixing..hard. letting off his aggression on the bowl like it was at fault for his weak will to deny you. you smile to yourself and turn to the cupboard so you could grab the decorations and of course, the chocolate chips.
you watch for a bit as your boyfriend mixes away, you’re watching how his toned arms flex and how the muscle of his arms tightens and tenses up, more specifically. one thing’s for sure, you’ll never get tired of his arms. you quickly turn away before he can catch you staring and teases you again.
you jump when he calls for you not even a second later “s’this good?” he asks gruffly, leaning forwards to show you his work. you feel your face warm as you squeak out a curt “yeah, looks good !” before taking the bowl back from him and turning right back around to reach for the baking sheet you had prepped. he’s none the wiser for a moment before a knowing grin crosses his face, he shakes his head.
you place everything down on the counter and sigh happily to yourself, feeling accomplished. you walk over to your grumpy boyfriend and place a sweet kiss to his cheek “you’re the best.” he clicks his tongue, muttering out a “tell me something i don’t know.” while the pink on his cheeks grows darker, you let out a giggle.
“you done with this ?” he asks lifting the spatula in the air for you to see, you offer him a simple “mhm” and a smile before turning back to the task at hand and watch from the corner of your eye as he places the spatula in the sink.
not before taking a lick of the excess batter still on it.
your head shoots up and you stare, he stares back. then you let out a loud belly laugh and clutch your stomach “so you were just here to lick the batter !” katsuki only grunts. there’s a light smirk on his face as he licks away a speck of cookie dough batter off his lips. he shrugs, walks up to you and places his head on your shoulder.
“figured i deserve a little somethin’ for my hard work.” you roll your eyes. his hold on you tightens and he huffs, trying to get as comfortable as he can while still standing up as he simply watches work.
“hmm..” you decided to humor him “ you did help a lot, i think i can give you a little more" you look at him from your shoulder just in time to catch his eyebrow raise as he registers what you said, a smirk playing on his lips when he does. he readjusts his head to look you in the eyes.
“yeah ?”
“mhm..” you hum. his grip tightens, his hands feel warmer.
“whaddya have in mind then, huh ?” he whispers. he’s so close and you can smell your body wash, probably because he keeps stealing it but you keep quiet about that for now.
“i dunno..” you trail off shyly, your confidence melting away under his smoldering gaze. “would…a smooch suffice ?” you giggle. he chuckles to himself at your choice of words. he grabs the back of your head softly, pulling you in closer until your noses brush against each other and he gives you a half hearted little nose kiss, you giggle and he smiles a little wider.
“s’a good start” he concludes before pressing his lips to yours.
#pls have this while im workin on pt 2 for dragon man bkg <33#ITS OTW YALL ITS LONG TOO I PROMISE#but anyways i like this one alot actually !#not proofread will fix later#hes my silly#love my boyfriend#bakugou imagine#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugo fluff#bakugou katsuki#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugou x reader#katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou katuski x reader#bakugo x oc#bakugou drabble#bakugo x reader#bakugou fluff#katsuki bakugo fluff#bakugo x you#bakugo x y/n#merry chrysler#to those who celebrate#<3
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Pairing: Fairy!Rafayel x F!Reader
CW: Blurb, size kink if you squint, magic, fairy stuff, human reader, suggestive. Fairy as in palm-sized Rafayel. Very unserious. MDNI. Unedited, no beta. We die like Grams.
Your boyfriend was a peculiar one, to say the least. A literal pocket boyfriend. Well, he fits in your shirt pockets and doesn’t seem to mind.
Rafayel, an art fairy, was a very charming little creature. That’s how he got you all wrapped around his little fingers. He would not leave you alone until you accepted his date invitation. Well, charming and persistent.
A dramatic fella too. He would practically die if you ever stopped paying attention to him. You still remember how many times he had gracefully crumbled to the ground like an autumn leaf if you paid attention to anything that wasn’t him for far too long. He would even accidentally, according to him, scatter fairy dust over any male who spend more than a minute in your presence.
Seeing different men and creatures ran away sneezing and crying was a usual thing with Rafayel in your life. You just shook your head as he acted all innocent like they were the ones at fault.
If anyone ever told you that you would have been in a long-lasting relationship with a tiny itty-bitty fairy, you would have laughed in their faces but now? It was your reality and you wouldn’t change Rafayel for anyone else.
He too, was so proud of his human girlfriend. every time you two visited fairylands, he would flaunt you around. His big and adorable other half. He would sit in your palm and make a show of the situation and you would look at him with brows furrowed and a sigh but smiling, nonetheless. Human or supernatural world, you two were a strange sight.
Affection was something Rafayel never shied away from. He would rather you have him in between your tits instead of your pockets, according to him it was fun bouncing around there. He would kiss your cheeks nonstop while walking and then sit on your shoulders all proud of leaving you flustered.
At home, it was the same. He would kiss your eyelids every morning and flutter around your bedhead, trying to tame your wild hair. A sport he proudly practices every day without fail.
“Good morning, cutie,” Rafayel would say as he nuzzled himself into your cheek. His amethyst hair all frizzled but his smile never wavered.
“Morning, Raf,” you would lazily rasp out. “Five more minutes and I’ll go, promise.”
“Yeah, sure. You say that every morning.” But still, he let you sleep a bit longer while he prepared breakfast.
Magic. It was the wheels carrying this relationship. How did he make breakfast for a human? Magic, duh. That’s what he told you the first time you asked. Not only breakfast but… other areas as well.
The intimacy talk was awkward for you most of the time. You were all red and fidgety while he was buzzing with excitement.
You didn’t mind Rafayel trying to slip in between your thighs but at the last moment, you always ended up stopping him. He would make a whole scene of how you were preventing him from the joys in life. Then he would clutch his chest, eyes full of despair and act wounded.
He would demand you open your legs for him with a face as red as a tomato, little fists shaking and wings batting nonstop behind him. “Let me in!”
Rafayel didn’t mind the size difference and even got handsy a few times, out of desperation. Going straight for your nipple and you screaming and almost swatting him like a fly.
“Warn me first!”
“You’re the one walking naked!” Of course, he would say that.
“I was showering!” You exclaimed with a bit of exasperation in your voice.
“Exactly my point!” Rafayel replied just as exasperated as you. Clearly, he wasn’t gonna let you win.
Again, he offered to give you head and you looked at him horrified. Not that you didn’t want to but…
“You could drown in there!” You pointed down to emphasize.
“No, I wouldn’t.” He just crossed his arms, pouted and denied it shaking his head.
“Yes, you would.”
“Okay, maybe but at least I would die happy.” He said, throwing you a triumphant smirk.
“Rafayel, I’m serious!”
“Me too! Just thinking about it gets me hard!” How was he more upset than you about not being able to eat you out…
So a solution must be found before Rafayel looses his marbles. As soon as you bought up the topic of too much of a size difference that’s why you were scared, he found the solution in a blink of an eye.
“Cookies? Like Alice in wonderland?” You attentively analyzed the jar of colorful cookies Rafayel just brought home. Some were your normal size while others were almost… breadcrumbs.
“Who?”
“You don’t— never mind. So you eat it and you grow?”
“Or you eat and you get tiny like me, but still. I don’t think it really matters. I want you.” His gaze heated as his demeanor changed into something more serious, a heaviness and intensity too overwhelming for such a small being.
“So…” you hummed pensively, a bit nervous from his sudden fierce expression. “What shall we try first?”
A.N: from a meme… a meme… A MEME 😂😂 here's the old meme. okay, I hope yall enjoy it. ✨He was a fairy✨ No smut bc I wanna see how the concept goes within this fandom. Also, keep in mind fairies kidnap humans.
#omificstags#rafayel x reader#lads rafayel#tw teratophilia#size k!nk cw#fairy!rafayel#love and deepspace#lads rafayel x reader#lnds rafayel#l&ds rafayel
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