#i spent too long on his house not to use it

[woso-dreamzzz]

New Girlfriend IV

Lucy Bronze x Teen!Reader

Summary: Pokémon card trade night

"Don't," Lucy says as Ona watches her.

"I haven't said anything."

"But you're going to go."

"You're a good mum, Luce," Ona says earnestly," And I know she thinks so too."

"Are you sure you don't want to come with?"

"I just got off a plane. I'll stay here with Narla. Go and bond with your daughter."

"At trade night?" Lucy says in disbelief," And sweaty Pokémon fans? I'll try."

"Yes," Ona laughs," You're a real hero for that."

Lucy shoves on her shoes and coat, leaning up the stairs. "I'm leaving!" She yells," So you're either coming to trade night or I'm going to KFC!"

She waits barely a second before a thump comes from your room, sounding suspiciously like a game controller being flung at a table.

You come sprinting down the stairs, tying the drawstrings of the tracksuits bottoms that you've clearly just shoved on.

"I'm coming! I'm coming! Hi, Ona. I'm coming!"

Ona laughs. "Hi, y/n. Have fun at trade night."

"Mum couldn't convince you to come?"

"I think I'm happy getting over the flight."

"Your loss." You shrug, turning back to Lucy. "So, are we going or not?"

"I hope you're not playing on bringing that mouse with you."

You frown, looking down at the pocket at the very front of your jumper, where Ezio pokes his nose out of.

"I'll..." You laugh nervously. "I'll put him back. Don't leave without me!"

It's not often that you like leaving the house. For school and for Lucy's games and (more frequently now you're back in England) seeing your grandparents.

Most of the time, you don't leave the house because you want to, but rather because you have to.

Except for nights like these, at the local 'nerd shops' as Lucy calls them to trade some Pokémon cards.

"You've got everything?" Lucy checks as she finds a parking space out on the street," You didn't bring all your binders."

"I brought my trade binder and a few of my other sets that I need to fill up."

"Your...trade...binder?"

You roll your eyes, swinging your bag over your shoulder and slamming the car door shut. "Yes, my trade binder. It's got all the cards that are duplicates and I don't mind trading away for other ones."

"I don't get this," Lucy says, hands in her pockets as she walks up to your nerd shop," You don't even play the card game."

"It's not about playing the card game. It's...It's..."

"It's?"

"I just like it, okay? Is that too much to understand?!"

Lucy's teasing smile is wiped off her face. "Hey, no, wait. I'm so-"

"Leave it," You say, shoving past her," I wish Ona were here instead!"

Lucy watches you go in, hand still out and reaching for your shoulder.

People have told her so many times how good she's done at raising you. Your teachers have nothing but glowing remarks. You're smart and studious and you didn't interrupt in class. Perhaps you could talk more but that's not a life ruiner.

Her friends have always said you're polite and you speak well and you don't purposely try to get under their skin. You're nice and you're sweet and you're friendly with everyone.

But Lucy can never fully understand you.

She's always been moving, even as a child. She'd played football for as long as she can remember, always high energy, always going-going-going until she had no more energy to go any longer.

You're not like, not in that way anyway.

You're more reserved and solitary, happy to sit in your room with your gaming consoles and your YouTube videos and your mice.

This card collecting thing had happened when she was still with Keira and away for the weekend. Keira had bought you a pack while at the store and you'd been hooked ever since.

Lucy can't even remember the last time your allowance hadn't been spent on those dumb plastic booster packs. She's never understood it.

Keira used to take the reins on this kind of thing while they were still together so Lucy's way out of her comfort zone when she finally steps inside of the nerd store.

It's more packed than she thought it would be, with people of all ages.

She catches sight of you up ahead. It's hard not to when you're wearing the Assassin's Creed coat she got you for Christmas last year and your binders are kept safe in the Mario Kart backpack you usually use for school.

Lucy fights the crowd to get to you.

"Whoa. Are you Lucy Bronze?"

There's some little kid staring up at her, clutching a binder with wide eyes and their mouth hanging open.

"I am."

"Wow! Can...Can...Mummy! Mummy can you get my Squirtle? I want Lucy Bronze to sign it!" The kid turns back to her. "I don't have my Bronze shirt with me but can you sign one of my cards?"

It's not the weirdest thing Lucy's ever had to sign but it's certainly the weirdest place she'd ever signed anything.

"Sure, kid!"

"Thank you," The mother says as Lucy grabs a pen from a random table. "It means the world to him."

"Mum!"

The pen has just been uncapped when Lucy looks up, stopping everything she's doing to respond to you.

"Yeah, what's up? Are you okay?"

Her eyes rove over you, checking for bumps and bruises but coming up empty.

"You can't sign that!"

"What?"

The little boy's bottom lip wobbles and you nearly push Lucy out of the way to kneel down in front of him.

"You don't want her signing a common card," You tell him," Get her to sign this instead." You produce a card from your trade binder.

It's an illustration rare Squirtle from your Scarlet and Violet 151 set.

The little boy gasps, reaching for the card your offering but his mum stops him.

"This is trade night, Micheal," She reminds him," Give her something in return."

You gave him a grin, sitting cross legged on the floor.

"You got a binder for me to look through?"

The boy nods hurriedly, prying it out of his mother's hands to flip through.

"Which one do you like? Why don't you pick me one out?"

You give the little boy your 151 Squirtle Illustration Rare and he gives you a Paldean Fates common Fidough.

Lucy signs the new Squirtle card with a little frown, waving as the boy and his mother head off.

"Why'd you do that?" She asks, arms over your shoulder so you can't escape again.

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"I'm not stupid," Lucy says," I know that was a rarer card. I know you've already got like twelve of the card you got in return. Why'd you do it?"

You shrug. "I don't know. It made him happy. Does it really matter?"

"Yeah but..."

Lucy goes quiet, glancing back at that little boy.

She made him happy by signing his card. You made him happy by giving him one.

You've never asked her why she signs people's jerseys.

Lucy glances back over at you as you trade away cards for new ones and open packs amongst people that are just like you.

Her hand itches to open one with you but it's just a twitch in her fingers. She keeps it by her side though, refusing to interrupt this safe space you've built for yourself.

The staff here know you by name and Lucy doesn't want to ruin that for you.

So, she stays in the background, looking through the shelves and through the bulk items and holding some of your half finished binders of sets that you're yet to complete.

"You looking for anything specific?" One of the staff members asks, leaning against the table as Lucy looks up like she's just been delivered a fairly painful electric shock.

"No!" She says hurriedly, hoping to fade into the background like she's been doing for most of this evening. "No, I mean...er...My kid...?"

The woman laughs. "I get it. First trade night? Kid's excited? You have no idea what's going on?"

"Something like that," Lucy says," My-My ex-partner used to take her to these and my new one's waiting at home for us and I-" She sighs. "I have no idea what I'm doing."

"I get it. First time for anything. So, you looking for yourself or for your kid?"

"For her," Lucy says," I don't know. I'm just looking."

"Well," The woman replies," I'm happy to help any parent out of their depth. Any specific sets or Pokémon?"

Lucy tries to rack her brain for anything you've mentioned specifically before, coming up short for a little while before:

"Eevee?" She asks cautiously," No, not Eevee. The evil Eevee? You know, the black one with the ears and the rings?"

"Umbreon?"

"Yeah, that! She's trying to collect all of them."

"Ah, now that I can help with."

Lucy's hands shake as she approaches you.

You've found a little corner to sort through all your new cards, slipping some of them into binders waiting for only a scant few more.

"Hey," Lucy says, uncharacteristically nervous as you look up at her.

"Hey?"

"I...er..." She clears her throat. "I got you a gift. A few gifts, I guess."

She places her offerings in front of you and you shuffle through them, eyes getting wider and wider.

"You got me a Moonbreon?!"

Lucy finally makes eye contact, alarmed. "No?! I promise I told the girl Umbreon! I'll get you a new one. Crap. I didn't mean to make a mista-"

You crash into her, arms curling around her as she cautiously puts her arms around you as well.

"It's the nickname of the card, Mum," You say," I've been looking for one for ages. It must have been expensive. Thank you."

"Of course, pumpkin," Lucy says," Of course."

You look up at her, searching for something that Lucy hopes she's showing in her eyes.

"Do you...Do you want to open some packs with me?" You look hopeful and Lucy's throat goes dry as she nods.

It's late when you finally look to be winding down and people finally start looking like they're leaving the store.

You snag Lucy's sleeve.

"I..Can you open these for me?"

You hand over two packs.

One's in English.

One's in Japanese.

Lucy frowns.

"These look...old..."

"They are," You admit," It's the base set. Like, first edition."

"These must have been expensive."

You bite at your lip. "I traded away my completed Brilliant Stars set. These are probably worth more but I think the guy who had them just wanted them gone. I..I can't open them myself. Can you?"

"I can. Don't worry."

Lucy fights to keep her hands from shaking as she tears open the packets.

She swipes through each card. They're completely meaningless to her but you freeze.

"Is this good? Godzilla?"

"Charizard."

"Huh?"

"Godzilla's a movie franchise, Mum. That's Charizard."

"Oh, is it?"

You shakily offer her your Japanese packet. "Mum, here."

The second Charizard is in your hand a moment later.

"Whoa!" Lucy laughs," What's with all the hugging today, huh?"

"You're the best," You tell her earnestly," I don't tell you enough but you're the best, Mum."

Lucy smiles at you, kissing the top of your head. "Just want to make you happy."

[ambiguous-avery]

When He Slides In...

Dean Winchester x fem!Reader/You | WC: 2768

Summary: ...And says “Fuck, I missed you.” After a hookup with the (in)famous Dean Winchester, you figured that would be the end of it. Too bad you could never seem to get him out of your mind. People always told you that you got attached too easily. And they were right. You were just another notch in his belt. He couldn’t possibly remember you...

Tags/Warnings: Smut 18+ MDNI, no use of Y/N, she/her pronouns, femme nicknames (sweetheart, pretty girl), reader is AFAB, oral (f receiving), P in V sex, PWP (Plot? What plot?), pining, pure filth because I have no chill, no beta we die like men

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts for far too long. This was the title of an audio I listened to, and the line lives in my head rent-free. Plus I figured this would be a great birthday gift for our one and only boy! Thanks to my bestie for reminding me of this momentous day!

The first time you met the Winchesters – and subsequently ended up beneath the eldest – was when you had called for some back up with a vampire nest you had found in a rural town in South Dakota. It was a routine hunt, but the nest had taken up residence on a farm with far too many places to be ambushed from. Thankfully, there was enough practiced experience between the three of you that the hunt only left you with several bruised ribs, Dean with a too-close-for-comfort almost bite, and Sam with a bloody gash cutting across his cheek. All in all, it could’ve been much worse. You had joined the two of them at a bar in town, eager to take a well-deserved moment of reprieve. And you left the bar with Dean. Just Dean.

After you parted ways, you fully accepted that it would be a one night stand, and your paths would never cross again.

Fate had different plans for you.

It was a standard haunted house case that pulled you to a small town in the middle of bumfuck, Iowa. Something something father killed his family when he was discovered having an affair before turning the weapon onto himself. And now he was killing other cheaters in the town. You’d have been tempted to leave him be – was he really doing harm by getting rid of those kinds of people? – if it weren’t for the fact that he would go after the affair partner as well who wasn’t always aware of just who they had gotten in bed with. It was a cut and dry case. Except you couldn’t find where the damn body had been buried, so you were having a hell of a time salting and burning the bones. The extended family had been so ashamed of what their son had done that they had buried him in an unmarked grave on the outskirts of town. 

You had just about hit the end of your rope when two very familiar Winchester boys rolled into town in a sleek Impala that purred like a kitten. And there he was. The one and only Dean Winchester, all swagger and bravado, and fuck, had he gotten hotter? Seriously, God hadn’t played around when chiseling him from marble.

“Hey, sweetheart, long time no see.” He grinned at you, his voice rumbling. 

Leave it to the grave-desecration-brothers to pinpoint where the cheater had been buried. It took several hours in the library pouring over a convoluted family tree before the three of you eventually found a living descendant and another hour talking with her and convincing her to let you guys go through old family books she had stored in her attic. Cheater’s sister happened to jot down which grave was his in her diary. Bleeding heart saved the day. You had ‘cheers’ed to that before knocking back your beer and excusing yourself from the bar with Dean in tow. 

Despite the long span of time you had spent apart, Dean was still familiar to you. The way his lips felt as he kissed you. The way your body seemed to slot against his just right. You couldn’t forget how he felt. Not when every touch of his had seared your skin and left imprints in its wake. Dean had ruined you for anyone else. Because he didn’t just leave his marks on your body. He had carved out a piece of your heart and taken it, leaving a hole in it that ached with every beat. Dean was a heartbreaker, and you were just another name on a long list of casualties. But you were on that list, and you lied to yourself, convinced yourself that it was good enough for you. 

“Dean,” you sighed against his lips, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes.

“Glad you didn’t forget me, sweetheart,” he said quietly, kissing you again. You could never forget him. Could never forget the way his hands felt as they teased at the hem of your shirt before sliding up your side. Could never forget the scent of leather and bourbon and cedar that encompassed him. Could never forget the way he looked at you and you let yourself believe just for a fleeting moment that maybe, maybe, you were something more than a hookup in his eyes. Dean’s touch was a flame, and he was going to kindle your entire world to ashes. And as long as he kept looking at you like that, you would let him. Over and over and over again. 

He trailed kisses along your cheek, across your jaw, and further down the side of your neck. His lips left your skin just long enough to slide your shirt over your head and make quick work of the clasp of your bra. He sucked a bruise just below your collarbone then soothed it with his tongue before dipping lower. Dean was attentive, leaving no part of you physically untouched but all of you still wanting. His nose dragged between the valley of your breasts, leaving another mark there. 

“You’re gorgeous; I hope you know that, sweetheart,” he murmured, and your response died in your throat as he sucked a nipple into his mouth, toying with it with his tongue.

There was so much you couldn’t say. Couldn’t tell him how much more you wanted from him. It was silly. You barely knew him in the bedroom and even less outside of it. But there was an undeniable spark between the two of you that you couldn’t shake. An unspoken pull. Something that kept the two of you in the other’s orbit. You were doubtful Dean felt it. It was just you and your silly little heart looking for anything to quell the loneliness that threatened to consume you. 

Dean moved lower, deftly ridding you of the last of your clothing so you were bare for him. And then his mouth was on you, stubble scratching lightly, and all thoughts were wiped from your mind in an instant. His fingers dug into your thighs, all lips and tongue on your clit and folds and fu-uck. You carded your fingers in his short hair, nails scratching against his scalp. He groaned, a low and guttural sound that sent vibrations through your core, and your answering cry was breathless, fingers scrabbling for purchase on his head or the bed sheets or anywhere. The sigh you let out when he slid a finger in you must’ve unraveled some of his self control because a second one joined it none too soon. He curled them, and your back arched.

 If you could form coherent thoughts, you might have had the wherewithal to wonder about when or where or how he learned his talents. But such wasn’t the case as everything tightened. Your tension collapsed into a litany of moans and gasps, and Dean was a solid presence between your legs. He was a maestro, and you were his instrument. He plucked at your strings until you came shuddering around his fingers, your nails biting into his skin. He coaxed you through your release, gently sucking and keeping a steadying hand on your leg. Your head fell back against the pillow, chest heaving. There were too many words that threatened to be the next to spill from you, so instead, you pulled Dean up by the hair and put every word you wanted to say to him in a kiss. It was deep and longing and you tried so hard to tell him just how lucky you felt that you got him for the night with it. If that’s all you ever got of him, it would be enough. It wouldn’t really, but you could delude yourself long enough to convince him.

He met your passion, one hand tangling in your locks and the other slipping beneath you to press against your lower back to provide counterpressure as he rolled his hips against yours. Your jaw went slack as you felt the length of him pressed against you, hot and heavy and hard beneath his jeans. You tugged at his shirt, desperate to get more skin to skin contact. Gasoline coursed through your veins, and if Dean didn’t set you ablaze this very instant, you were sure you would spontaneously combust. Thankfully, Dean was a smart man. He picked up on your desperate plea and stripped out of his shirt before briefly standing up to strip out of the rest of his clothes. 

As he looked down at you, his green eyes met yours, and you could see him searching for something. Acceptance? Approval? Adoration? All three? You’d give him all of those. Whatever it was, you could only hope that he found it as you looked up at him, sprawled out on the bed and propped up on your elbows. You took your time taking him in. The cut of his jaw. The broad expanse of his shoulders. The tattoo that sat just above his left pec. Your gaze dropped lower, and you couldn’t help but bite your lower lip before dragging your eyes back up to his again.

“Are you waiting for an invitation?” you ask, a sly smile tugging at the edge of your lips.

Dean pounced. He yanked you into a kiss, messy and primal, crushing you into the bed with his weight. You responded in kind by dragging your nails down the length of his back, needing to leave a mark of your own on him so maybe he’d remember you for more than a fleeting night. Dean groaned low in his throat, the sound ringing in your ears. There were no barriers left between you two, and you arched your body up into his, looking for all the contact you could possibly find. His hand dropped down to your ass and pulled you against him, his cock frotting against the junction of your hip. You raked your fingers in his hair and pulled it, pressing your mouth to the side of his neck and biting and sucking there until Dean was cursing under his breath.

“Hold on, sweetheart,” Dean bit out. You released him, eyes locked onto the angry red mark you had left. He fumbled with his discarded pants for a brief moment before pulling a condom from the pocket. 

“Smart man... smarter than me." 

It was good that he had his wits about him because you were more than ready to throw caution to the wind. You were a hunter. You risked your life every day. What was one more risk? You knew you’d be thankful when your brain wasn’t drowning in lust, though. He rolled the condom over himself before kneeling between your legs again. He grabbed the backs of your knees and spread your legs wide, lifting your ass off the bed before settling it on his thighs. Dean took a moment to guide his cock into place. His gaze met yours again, waiting and pleading. You gave him a subtle nod.

Dean rolled his hips, sinking into you with slow thrusts. You audibly sighed as he bottomed out.

“Fuck, I missed you.” He said your name, reverent and sincere. He said your name. Not sweetheart. Not baby. Not some nickname he probably used to mask the fact that he forgot the name of the woman under him. Your name. You whimpered.

“Dean... I missed you too,” you admitted. But he didn’t understand the depths of your words. He couldn’t. He kept a hand on your knee, keeping you splayed open for him. You braced a hand on the headboard and turned your face aside, biting the knuckle of one of your fingers and panting into it.

“No, no, pretty girl. Keep your eyes on me,” he said, leaning forward to grab your chin and guide your eyes back to him. The shift caused him to sink just a little deeper into you. You squeaked when your eyes met green ones. There, behind the lust and desire, there was Dean. And for a moment, you could see the vulnerability there. The lonely man who wanted to be needed. Needed to be wanted. 

“Move, Dean. I need you.”

And that’s all it took. Dean surrendered to what felt good and snapped his hips, pounding into you, thrilling at the way you moaned and moved with him and accepted every aggressive stroke like you were made for it. He lowered his body and leaned forward onto his hands so he could drive himself deeper into you. His hands found yours, and you entwined your fingers with his. He pinned you to the mattress, caging you beneath him. You shouted in response, your legs clenching against Dean’s sides and the drag of his cock setting every nerve alight. 

“There you go, pretty girl. You can take it. You can take me. I know you can.” His words were fuel for the inferno that threatened to devour you. You were trembling. Aching. He was the musician; your body was the instrument. You were a violin string. You were tuned too tight. You were breaking.

Your groans and cries turned to fervent whimpers, and you fought against his hold as your release danced just beyond your reach. Your eyes fluttered shut, and Dean clicked his tongue, commanding your attention. You stared up at him, eyes wide and bright, drinking in the sight of him as though it would be your last.

“Please,” you begged. Your voice sounded so utterly wrecked in your own ears, but you didn’t care. You had abandoned your dignity long ago. “Dean, please. Need more.”

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” He let go of one of your hands, and his thumb found your clit, drawing tight circles around it. “Come on, pretty girl. Need you to come on my cock.” His breaths mingled with yours, and your answering cry was high and thready as you lost yourself in him. Your voice, so needy and desperate, must’ve been enough to be Dean’s undoing because the hand holding yours tightened as he rutted into you until he came in hot, throbbing pulses that sucked the energy out of the rest of his body. You clenched around him, and he let out a strangled groan as his whole body shuddered above you.

He pressed his forehead against yours, brushing stray hairs out of your face with his free hand. His other still clasped yours tightly, fingers still laced together. You leaned up to kiss him, and your lips met in a tender way. An unburdened, unhurried kiss. A kiss for the sake of kissing.  You could’ve stayed like that forever, but all too soon, Dean broke the kiss and peeled himself off of you, his hand leaving yours. He stood, moving to discard the condom before grabbing a towel from the bathroom. You sat up, watching his retreating back and taking pride in the red lines your nails had left in their wake. You could only hope he would remember you.

When he returned with a damp washcloth, he coaxed you back against the pillow as he wiped the sweat from your brow, muttering sweet nothings all the while. There was silence between you for a long while, and you realized too late that your time with him was coming to an end. He had set you aflame, and now you would have to find a way to rebuild. But you’d do it all again if Dean asked it of you. But when he spoke, you hadn’t expected the words that came out of his mouth.

“Do you maybe wanna... you know... stay?” he asked quietly. “For the night,” he added. You swallowed.

“Um... isn’t Sam due back sometime... soon?” Why were you making excuses? This opportunity didn’t even show up in your dreams. Dean wet his lips, not quite meeting your gaze.

“Well... not to be presumptuous or anything... but I might have told him to get his own room for the night.”

“Oh.” Oh. He had planned on you staying with him? You were done for. 

“Yeah... Uh, nevermind. You don’t have to. You’ve probably got somewhere better–”

“I’d love to stay,” you blurted out. “With you,” you clarified, as if it weren’t obvious. The smile that split across Dean’s face was blinding, and it became your new life’s mission to do whatever it took to see it directed your way time and time again.

“How about I order us some food? We can watch a movie and cuddle?” And really, you were only human. A request like that from Dean Winchester was as easy to fulfill as breathing.

---

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Favour or Two

Hey hey! This weekend (Jan 25-26) I’m going to be playing drabble roulette! I’ve curated a list of characters and prompts and I’m spinning the wheel!

Character: Pete Brenner

Prompt: too nice for your own good

Warnings: this drabble includes deceit and dark elements. Please mind these warnings and take care.

Explicit, 18+. Please reblog and leave some feedback.

It’s not how you expected the day to go. Or your visit to your parents. All that anticipation to spend the day cooking with your mom and maybe even chatting on the back deck with your dad has fizzled. 

You wouldn’t call it a tragedy, just a change in plans. You have a whole week with your mom and dad, you can do this one small thing. Not that you were given much of a choice. Not by your parents and not by your empathy. 

Pete’s a nice enough guy. He must be if your dad’s letting him crash in his office. Freshly divorced, down on his luck, but still chipper. When you found him on the same couch you spent much of your teenage years lounging on, your confusion had you speechless.  

He explained, he’s just staying for a bit, just long enough to get on his feet. That day, he’s meeting with an investor for his new startup. He only needs a foot in the door and he’ll be out of your parents’ hair in no time. He just needs a ride since his prized mustang decided to pop a tire. 

Your dad’s busy with Hank next door, cleaning the eaves, and your mom’s trying out that new canning recipe and the ingredients need to be used today. So, you’re the only one left. How can you say no, you too are imposing on your parents’ kindness. 

“You’re a gem,” Pete says as he comes out the front door. You pull away from the side of the car and lower your phone. You look at him over the roof of the car as he adjusts his tie, “Not to be a diva, I just need everything perfect.” 

“No problem, ready to go?” You ask. 

“Sure, did I give you the address?” He checks his watch as he approaches the passenger side. The gold shimmers in the sunlight. You can’t help but notice all the expensive things he has. 

“Um, yeah, let me just pull up the map...” you open the door with one hand and drop into the seat as you hit start on the route. The map redirect and you place your phone in the mount. Two hours? “Oh, wow, it’s pretty far.” 

“Oh, I thought your dad mentioned it,” he pulls down the visor and opens the mirror to check his hair.  

You peek over at him as he smooths down the part. He’s older than you, the creases around his eyes suggest mid-forties? Maybe a few years off in either direction. Despite the gap, you’re both in a similar boat; starting out, or over. 

“It’s not a big deal,” you assure him and set your head straight. “How long’s the meeting?” 

“Ah, you know these suits, they’re all ‘time is money’,” he sits back as you buckle your seat belt. You wait as he stays undone, only pull down the strap as you idle the engine. 

“Sure, I guess... you’ll need a ride back?” 

“If you don’t mind. Uh, there’s a cafe not far, maybe you could just waste some time there? I really thought you knew,” he says. 

“Really, it’s fine,” you say as you check your mirror then crane to back out. 

You twist the wheel and head down the street. He rolls down the window and clucks, watching the houses pass. “Me and my wife had a place like this, till she started screw--” he coughs and rolls his shoulders, “sorry, never mind.” 

“Oh, um, I heard... uh, must be hard,” you say. 

“Well, I’m hurt but kinda hate her, you know? I’ve been working myself dry tryna get this thing off the ground and she’s sneaking around... I shouldn’t...” he puts his hands up. “I’m sure you got better things going on. How about you? Special guy waiting for you to get back home?” 

You make a face at the road, “nope.” 

“Really? Huh, woulda thought... well, you’re young and all that. You probably got dealer’s choice. No need to rush.” 

“Erm, sure,” you laugh dryly. “Guess it’s just not my biggest concern at the moment.” 

“Smart,” he snorts. “Really, don’t jump into it. Take your time.” He leans back and runs his hand over his mouth and the stubbly shadow of a goatee there. “Piece of advice, find someone mature. Someone ready to hunker down.” 

“Um, thanks, I’ll... keep that in mind.” 

You focus on driving. That’s easy. Pete’s friendly but he talks a lot and you’re not always sure how to respond. You don’t quite have enough experience to offer him any advice in return. 

~ 

As promised, there’s a cafe down the block from the skyrise where you drop Pete. He agrees to meet you there when he’s finished. You’re not entirely thrilled at having to wait on him but you told your dad you’d do it. You still owe him for helping you out with your rent. 

You snag a table and a cappucino and settle in. You sink into an ebook on your phone and block out the mill of customers in and out of the shop. You sip on your cappucino until its cold and leave the dregs to rest. 

You yawn and check the time after the third chapter. You stretch as the chairs put a stiffness in your bones. You glance over at the counter where the baristas wipe down the machines. Shoot. You’ve overstayed your welcome. 

You get up to order a muffin so they don’t kick you out. You eat it slowly, peeking back at the door, hoping that Pete will walk in at any second. He said it wouldn’t be long. It’s well into the afternoon. 

You read another chapter and throw out your trash. You should just go back to the car. You head down the street. It’s after five. 

You sit in the driver’s seat and flip through the apps in your phone. You play a swap game for a bit but grow restless. You check the clock again. Why didn’t you get his number? You could call him. 

“Hey,” the passenger door opens and you nearly shriek in fright. Pete bends to poke his head through, “I’m so sorry. Thing’s got... well, uh, I need another favour.” 

“Huh?” You gape at him. 

“Yeah, uh, the suits I was meeting with, they love me.” He drops into the seat and feels around in his suit jacket. “You know, we got to talking. They’re thinking ten mill at least.” 

You blink erratically, barely able to keep track. 

“They suggested dinner and uh, well, one lie led to another, things got a bit messy. I really didn’t want to keep you waiting,” he keeps his hand under his jacket. “Said my wife was waiting on me and uh, they said why don’t I bring her, so yeah.” 

He pulls out a ring. You squint and purse your lips. You’re lost. 

“Just for tonight, alright.” 

“Where--” 

“It’s the one I bought the ex. I know it’s a bit strange but I need this deal. I don’t wanna be a bum on your parents’ couch forever. What about it, please? It’ll be fun and you’ll get a free meal out of it.” 

“Well, uh...” you check the clock. It’s past six and there’s a long way home. Still, his pleading plucks at your heart. You’re not very good at saying no. 

“Alright, I... I’ll do my best.” 

“It’ll be fine. Just smile,” he grabs your hand and shoves the ring on your finger. “Come on.” 

You’re shell shocked. You look down at the gleaming stone then shake your head. You guess this is happening. 

You get out and lock the car. You shove your keys and phone in your purse. He meets you on the pavement and ushers you down the next street. He swoops his arm around you, his hand curling around your hip. You twitch but don’t push him away. It’s just an act. 

He approaches a black facade with pink neon trim. There’s no marquee. It must be pretty upscale, you’ve never been anywhere like that. 

A bouncer waves him in as if he knows them. You don’t think much of it. As you enter, you pass through a black curtain and emerge into a room lit with shades of red, purple, and pink, with spotlights over stages. 

Pete lifts a hand to wave and a table of suited men return the gesture. You gape at the woman dancing on the pole mounted through the table. Oh my god. 

You don’t know what to do. You want to run. You want to elbow him and ask what the fuck. But you can’t. You’re too overwhelmed by the naked flesh and music. 

“Petey boy,” a man with a mustache greets him with a firm handshake, “there she is, the missus.” He stands and greets you with a kiss on the cheek. “You weren’t lying, she is young.” 

“Got a good one, huh?” Another man repeats the first’s overly friendly welcome and you blink dumbly. “Don’t think my wife would step in a place like this.” 

Pete chortles, “we consider it foreplay,” he pulls out a chair and sits. It’s only then that you notice there aren’t any more. “Ain’t that right, honey?” He puts you in his lap and you drop down with a flash of horror in his direction. He leans in and brushes his nose to your cheek and whispers in your ear, “behave or daddy will get a nice picture of you front and centre.” 

Your gaze flicks behind him to the twerking cheeks on the stage and you shudder. You turn back to the other men and try to smile. Pete’s hand rests on your lower back. “She gets a bit shy when she’s horny,” he scoffs and taps the top of your ass. “Now, where were we?” 

You look at the strange men at the table. The pudgier one offers a folded bill to the dancer and she takes it between her teeth. The one with the mustache leers at you as he bites his thumb, and the other tanks a long sip from his glass. 

You’re trapped in disbelief, staring, stuttering. What else can you do but try not to combust? Especially as Pete’s hand crawls up your thigh. 

“Forgive me if I get lost,” he purrs and bites your shoulder. 

“Who could blame you?” The mustachioed leerer growls. “I mean, who cares about numbers? Gonna be a wild night, isn’t it, Pete?” 

[honestlyluckyhottub]

Josh’s New Perspective

Josh had always felt weighed down by the expectations of adulthood. Living at home during university, his dad's constant nagging about getting a job only added to the pressure. When Mr. Carter offered him a babysitting job, Josh eagerly accepted, hoping it would ease some of the tension. However, he never imagined how much that job would change his life.

From the moment he arrived at Mr. Carter's secluded, two-story house on the edge of town, Josh could tell this wouldn’t be an ordinary job. Toys littered the yard, a black minivan sat in the driveway, and the house itself exuded a strange mix of family warmth and mystery.

When Mr. Carter, a tall man with a large beer belly, answered the door wearing only a strained shirt and tighty-whities, Josh had been caught off guard. Apologizing for arriving early, Josh was assured he was right on time. Mr. Carter rushed him inside and gave him a tour of the house.

The nursery upstairs was the biggest shock. It was outfitted like a toddler’s room, complete with a crib, changing table, and playpen. However, the occupant wasn’t a toddler—it was Max, Mr. Carter’s 20-year-old son. Max was “special,” as Mr. Carter explained, and still lived like a baby. Josh’s job was simple: care for Max, feed him, change him, and make sure he got to daycare safely.

When Max left for daycare that morning, Josh couldn’t stop thinking about him. Max’s carefree lifestyle, free of adult responsibilities, seemed almost enviable. Curiosity took hold, and Josh decided to explore the nursery. One thing led to another, and before long, Josh found himself wearing one of Max’s diapers and a truck-themed onesie.

What started as a moment of curiosity quickly turned into a full experience. Josh climbed into the oversized highchair, made himself some banana creamy porridge, and used a sippy cup he found in the cupboard. For the first time in years, Josh felt relaxed, unburdened by adult expectations.

That’s when Mr. Carter came home unexpectedly.

Catching Josh in the highchair, wearing baby clothes, was a moment of shock for both of them. Josh tried to explain, but Mr. Carter simply smiled. He reassured Josh that there was nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, he offered Josh the chance to live like Max whenever he was at the house.

Over the following weeks, Josh embraced his new role as Mr. Carter’s “baby boy.” He spent his time at the house dressed like Max, cared for by Mr. Carter, and free from the stresses of adult life. It was a strange but comforting arrangement that made Josh feel safe and loved.

One day, however, Mr. Carter decided it was time to involve Josh’s dad. When Josh’s dad arrived to pick him up, Mr. Carter sat him down and explained everything. At first, Josh’s dad was stunned, but as he listened, he began to understand.

“I had no idea Josh felt this way,” his dad admitted.

Mr. Carter smiled warmly. “Sometimes we all need a break. And I think you might benefit from this too.”

Josh’s dad raised an eyebrow, but before he could protest, Mr. Carter pulled out a spare diaper and onesie. By the end of the conversation, both Josh and his dad were dressed like babies, sharing the same carefree lifestyle.

From that day forward, Mr. Carter cared for them both, treating them with love and kindness. Josh and his dad discovered a new bond, free from the pressures of the outside world, as they embraced their shared journey of rediscovery and innocence.

The End.

[imperiuswrecked]

Castlevania: Nocturne thoughts that keep me awake below the cut

1. I don't know why I've seen people act like Mizrak only just met Richter and Maria in S1, like it's pretty clear from their first interaction they know him and he knows them. Tera, Maria, Mizrak, The Abbot all lived in that town for years, probably their whole lives as far as we know for Maria, The Abbot, Mizrak. While Tera and Richter lived there for years. Which means that Mizrak knew Richter and Maria when they were kids. I bet Maria used to show up just to find someone to play with at the Abby, like the Chruch was a central point of focus for community in those days. Mizrak could have been like a older brother/cousin to her when she was little, and he was younger. He could have been patiently sharpening his sword, while she made a crown of flowers and placed them on his head. He probably would try to teach her Bible verses or encourage her and Tera to attend church, but gave up after a while. Mizrak pulling little Maria out of scrapes, or taking her home when she got into trouble. Then one day she shows up with her cousin and he has double the work of keeping them out of trouble and he's like a 20 something monk knight. So now he has like 2 kids trailing around him, asking him endless questions, making fun of his serious nature, he practices in the courtyard and Richter begins to copy his moves. So he ends up teaching him how to sword fight so he can protect Maria and Tera when Mizrak isnt around. Like why was there even monk knights to begin with in a small town. The Vampires. He and his brotherhood of knights were the towns protectors, the Vampires werenr many but it was enough for people to want there to be knights, to give money to the church to house and feed and cloth them so they could focus on their work. He'll, I bet Mizrak's heart nearly exploded when he first catches the cousins taking down a Vampire in the woods he was hunting. He then sometimes teamed up with them on the occasional hunt. Mizrak has no issues just falling into the group dynamic and he even takes up the role of provider, getting them safe shelter, clean water, and hunting food. Like that is a man who took on the older cousin/brother role to Richter and Maria years ago but no one really noticed because it felt so natural, and Mizrak is a quiet guy who doesn't talk much, or show his emotions, he tries to be an example to them through his morals and character and faith.

2. Just because The Abbot, Emmanuel, is a cowardly bitch in current times doesn't mean anything. Tera literally said how she was shown kindness when she got to the town. As a speaker witch who lost her whole family, her sister, being an outcast and hunted probably, a normal nice guy would have been catnip. They probably had a love affair but the Abbot was younger too, he probably was like "we can't have a child out of wedlock, etc" like it's very The Scarlet Letter vibes: Outcast woman lives on the edge of town with a baby girl, no one knows it's the priest whose the dad, the priest suffers internally for years and tries to repent but whatever they do it's not good enough to make up for the fact that they are a coward. The Abbot's moral failing didn't start now. It started years ago when he chose his priesthood over doing the right thing for his child, and the woman he loved. Maria killing him for being a deadbeat dad is all the excuse she needs, even without Emmanuel giving up Tera to Erzsebet. It's why Tera tried to appeal to him even till the end, because she spent years still in love with the young man who was kind to her once, a long time ago, and she thought she could still reach him, not knowing his moral decay and fervent belief that he was doing God's Will had crushed that once kind man.

3. The same theme runs true for Drolta. A priestess corrupted over time, until the end goal she was working towards for so long is so far removed from where she started, but she is so deep into her centuries long belief that what she is doing is right, and it's what her Goddess wills, that no matter what path she takes, what means she uses to reach her end, it's all worth it because she is her Goddess's most faithful servent. The confusion at the end when she's confronted by Sekhmet and reality comes to rip down her entire being blindsides Drolta. It's very tragic because Drolta did start out as a healer too, she wanted to help her people, to serve her Goddess, but life is not kind, and she chooses her dark path every step of the way, leaving more and more of that once good woman behind. The road to hell is paved with good intentions is something both Drolta and The Abbot shared once. Was Drolta aware at some point she had lost her path? Did she care? Did she grieve her former self? Or did she ignore and rip out all those soft emotions because she had spent centuries trying to bring her Goddess back and to admit it was all for nothing meant her corruption was for nothing? Like it got to the point she genuinely believed that she was the only person worthy of becoming Sekhmet, but only after she was sure she would not die like all the others who tried, only after Erzsebet's use was over, and Drolta was a powerful NightCreature did she dare to take that power. Cowardly in a way that she didn't want to give up her immortal vampire life to try and be Sekhmet's vessel.

4. Olrox's time in S2 really felt like the writers didn't want to let him go, but they didn't know what to do with him, especially compared to how much his character was a force that pushes Tera, Richter, Annette, and Maria to confront the Abbot and his main character arc (other than not romancing but really romancing Mkzrak) since stepping off the ship in France has been to see what the fuck is really going on. He's too old to fall in line and worship the latest power hungry Vampire lord/lady wannabe but he needs to see what sorta threat is he up against. The instant he's off the ship, he tells them he'll be along, and goes off on recon. He knows Mizrak's name the next day and abiut the Night Creatures, which mean he probably spent that first night toying on the Abbot and the Monk Knights. He was intrigued by Mizrak and thinks to use him as his source for more information but didn't expect to fall in love with him, but does as time goes by. However you do see he still has his own thing going on, he lurks around the dungeons, he finds Edouard, he finds the book, the machine, he is playing a dangerous game with Dolta and Erzsabet. His character arc is tied to The Machine which was not destroyed in S1, and the main characters even forgot about in S2 because they are young or prehaps they think without The Abbot it can't be used, but Olrox is a very focused Vampore and he doesn't forget, he destroyed the book, but The Machine is still there and he has no means of destroying it or sending it back to Hell. Olrox being a shadow that dances around the main plot and trying to get people to focus on the real issue in S1 vs how little he does in S2 is a glaring difference, but if there is a S3, Olrox and The Machine needs be addressed otherwise it's a waste of perfectly good character and plot build up. I do hope we also see more of Olrox's history in S3 because he is such a great character. Even if we just get him talking more about his past, I'll be happy. I seriously think with how long he's lived, what a morally grey character he is, that creators could do an entire spin off show based on his past. And can we PLEASE get a name for his past lost love?

5. Erzsabet is like the perfect main villainess for the show, she is everything the revolution is fighting against. She's a noble born lady who used her power to prey on theninnocrnt while she was a human and then later continues to do so as a powerful vampire. The fact that most of the Vampires are, the Aristocracy who are the "blood sucking leeches in charge" males so much sense in terms of the setting of the show. They are draining the kices out of the oppressed working/peasant class. Erzsebet is not smart or cunning like Drolta. In fact she is quite lazy as a character, expecting everything to be done for her because she was born and raised in that life of privilege, she expects and craves worship and adoration as her due, and believes Drolta every step of the way because Drolta does know how to manage her. Erzsebet doesn't even try to control the Nughr Creatures instead waits for Drolta to come back to deal with it. This doesn't mean that Drolta groomed or tricked Erzsebet, no, Erzsebet was already this way when Drolta met her, and in fact it's because Erzsebet is a stupid, lazy, power hungry nonle woman with no care for who she hurts to satisfy her own wants, that makes her the perfect tool for Drolta's own goals. Erzsebet never sees Drolta's betrayal coming because she truly believes herself to be worthy of being Sekhmet. It's why she breaks in the final battle because she can't comprehend the fact that she is just another rich woman who doesn't get what she wants, and reality smacks her down and shows her that all that power and strength means nothing. Honestly??? It's really refreshing to have a villain character who doesn't know everything, I think I'm so used to villains always having a plan, always know what the heroes will do next or being smart enough to counteract them, and especially villainess's have to be twice and smart etc to prove what a threat they are, but Erzsebet is like "I should have everything I want because I deserve it, but I will let my servants do all the work because what do you mean I have to work to achieve my goals? It's enough that I've proven myself by not dying." Like zero awareness, just a beautiful dumb villainess who thinks 'might makes right". It really is refreshing to have someone like Erzsebet because she is still a major threat.

6. Annette really carried all of S2 and it's perfect, it's beautiful, her getting a lot more spotlight felt only natural and I loved seeing her journey, I'd do wish they hadn't kept her and Edouard away all seasons that's like my main issue because they were friends and we didn't get to see that again until the end and the same holds true for Edouard in that zi feel they didn't know what to do with him this season like Olrox, they couldn't let Edouard fade into the background because he is important to Annette, but they could have had Edouard turn the Night Creatures against Erzsebet and Drolta imo. Still Annette's arc was the strongest of all the characters and very well done. I'm only sad because I wish we had more episodes to explore her journey.

7. I really hope we get to see more of Tera in S3, I do think she wasn't utilized well in S2 when we had the promise of he becoming Erzsebet's faithful servant at the end of S1 which would have set it up nicely for some heart breaking moments between Tera and the others. And while I know Richter is the main character, I don't really have any thoughts for him because he's not a character type I particularly enjoy or find interesting wnough. He's ok to me.

8. I hope Alucard and Juste get to stick around and raise Maria, even if there's a time skip and S3 has Maria an adult, it's fun to think about. Her arc was really good in S2 as well!

[tokkiiibunny]

Chick Habit | Megumi Fushiguro

13: 7 Words

Words: 1.5 k

Mainlist

I think you shouldn't have glorified, now you're wrong

Suck, suck, suck, suck

Suck, suck, suck, suck

Oh boy...

A part of megumi still refused to accept that he had screwed up, he kept wanting to think that it was your fault, that you were no victim and that you definitely deserved everything he had done but deep down he knew that he had been a fucking idiot, that he had taken things too far and that he had been doing for years the same thing that your former friends did to Tsumiki.

Megumi Fushiguro never regretted it, but maybe and only maybe at this moment he was doing it.

The more days went by the more frustrated he became and maybe, and just maybe, he was wondering what would have happened if he had figured out the reality of things before spreading all that shit about you, what would have happened if that first day of school he had responded to your cheerful greeting with a simple "Hi." You weren't the only one who had been wanting to do things differently.

"Did they hide what happened with that girl? It was horrible." Tsumiki brought up the subject in the middle of dinner, she only knew the story halfway and did not know that her beloved brother had been responsible. "poor girl, Mrs. Linwood told me she was a good girl, with all this she must not be having a good time."

"Why don't you shut up, Tsumiki?" Megumi was rude all the time to everyone, but he rarely had that attitude with Tsumiki.

"Megumi." Satoru scolded him.

"And shut up too, you have no idea what happened, stop acting like you care." Satoru leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest, watched Megumi for a moment, he had known him long enough  to know that something is wrong.

"That girl, Yn Yl I think, she was in your class wasn't she? Maybe you can explain to us better what happened." Megumi hated talking to Satoru because he always felt like he knew everything, most of the time it was difficult to keep Satoru's secrets hidden. Megumi got up from the table and left the house slamming the door behind him.

They didn't know shit, no one did, you were just a fucking crybaby and he could have been so much worse. But God, he couldn't get you out of his head.

Although for a long time he saw you as the "enemy", the time he spent with you, those times when he wasn't being a bitch with you, he had really enjoyed your company. 

Because that smile that he had tried so hard to convince himself that he hated was actually the most beautiful he had ever seen, In fact, you were the prettiest thing he had ever seen.

You were pretty, funny, intelligent, you were full of good qualities, you were like a dream but he had broken you and there was no turning back. 

If he had to count how many times he had dreamed of you, the fingers of his two hands would not be enough. And it would be a lie to deny that his mind was repeating the two kisses he had given you over and over again because he loved remembering the feeling of his lips on yours. You were soft and sweet, the complete opposite of him.

Lately he had wondered a lot if he hated you or if he was just completely and deeply obsessed with you.

Yuji hadn't approached him since the Halloween party and Megumi really missed him but his pride prevented him from trying to talk to his best friend, Yuji missed him too but he was still angry about everything Megumi had done.

He was walking aimlessly, he was just trying to clear his head and forget about the small conversation he just had at home, he cursed that he didn't bring anything with him to help relax him.

The air was cold and his sweater wasn't helping to keep him warm But he refused to go home, he didn't want Satoru to question him again because he knew that he would sooner or later get into the truth.

That day he did not return until midnight and when he opened the door Satoru was on the sofa waiting for him.

"Where were you?"

"Don't start."

"Sometimes you forget who is in charge in this house." Satoru didn't seem to be playing at this time, even if his attitude was almost always playful and teasing, he looked Upset now.

"You're not my fucking dad Satoru." Megumi immediately cursed himself for saying that, but it was too late and he could only keep his defiant attitude as much as possible.

"I know." Tension filled the room, Satoru paused for a long time before continuing. "I know I'm not." Satoru preferred to keep his words to himself, he knew that anything he had to talk to him would be useless at this moment. "Go to your bedroom, it doesn't matter anymore."

That night was no different from the others where sleeping was almost impossible, now he was not only thinking about you and Yuji but he was also thinking about how he had been an ungrateful son of a bitch with the only two people who had taken care of him, Tsumiki and Satoru were his only family and yet he treated them like shit every time he was angry.

Sometimes he questioned why he was like that, what was wrong with him, to say that he hated himself would be too kind For what he really felt.

He was a cruel bastard too proud to admit his mistakes out loud, a motherfucker who every time he felt someone too close showed his worst side to puch them away.

The next morning he go downstairs to the kitchen And it probably wouldn't have been much different from any other day if it weren't for the very strange but recognizable figure that was on the couch between Satoru and Tsumiki.

Toji Fushiguro was like a blurry memory in megumi's mind, Although his voice was more than present in his mind because of all the calls he had received over the years, the way he looked was distorted among his memories.

He was strangely similar to him, Satoru had always told Megumi that he looked like his mother but he was also so similar to Toji that his stomach churned to, he didn't want to look like that man.

"Megumi." Satoru looked tense, in reality none of the three of them seemed too comfortable with the situation. "Sit down."

"What is he doing here?" but Megumi didn't try to hide his displeasure.

"Just Please Megumi." Satoru wanted to make things easier and although he knew that talking to Megumi would be useless, he tried to make him come to his senses.

"No. What is he doing here?"

Toji sighed and got up from the sofa, his expression far from the violent and strong face that Megumi remembered but still she was not going to trust him easily.

"I came to get my family back."

"You don't have any family here."

"Megumi." Satoru called out him.

"No, He's only here because he's old and finished, he doesn't give a fuck about his family, he doesn't give a fuck about changing."

"Just listen to him, Megumi."

"Shut up Tsumiki. Shut up, you three."

Megumi didn't go back to home that day, he didn't answer any calls, he hated Toji, he hated Satoru for accepting him into his house, and he hated Tsumiki for accepting back his father.

He felt stressed, tired and angry, he was fed up with everyone and couldn't leave his room because his fucking father was in the living room and didn't want to see him. After thinking about it a lot, he sent you a text message, he wanted to talk to you, he missed spending the afternoons in your bedroom.

You never responded, you didn't even receive the message, you had blocked Megumi's Contact.

Megumi was eating his breakfast when Toji arrived at the kitchen and patted Megumi on the shoulder.

"Are you going to talk to me, kid?"

"Never. touch. me. again." He got up from his chair with the intention of going back to his room but his father stopped him.

"Megumi, I really want to talk to you."

"But I don't want to. Look, I don't care about you, I don't want you in my life and you're never going to be my father. I lived without you up to this point and I prefer to continue doing so." Toji had never been present in his life, he didn't need him and he didn't care if this time he would change, he wasn't her father and never would be.  "I don't care what shitty story you tell me this time, but I don't want you to try to talk to me."

Notes area:

>Comments, suggestions and feedback are welcome

>Thanks for reading!

Taglist:

@soobinbunnie5 @anonymity-222 @hanakalovesbnha @starrysho @sylussss7 @Shortcakebbg @Szired @briezy04764

[s4svnn]

Limelight . JJK one shot

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; After five years of chasing her dreams abroad, Iris returns to her small hometown, eager to embrace a fresh start with a new degree and a quiet apartment. But the peace she craves is quickly shattered by the relentless sounds of punches and grunts echoing from the apartment next door. What starts as a tense confrontation soon sparks a fiery chemistry neither of them expected as she comes face to face with her high school crush, now a determined, world-renowned boxer. As their paths cross once more, Iris can't help but wonder if this unexpected encounter might lead to a chance at the love she once thought was out of reach.

↳ pairing; Boxer Jungkook x reader

↳ 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐬; completed | All rights reserved 

↳ strangers to lovers, rekindling old flames, fluff

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The air felt different as I stepped off the bus and onto the weathered streets of my small hometown. There was a distinct sense of familiarity in the way the morning sun reflected off the old brick buildings, as if they too were caught in the same cycle of nostalgia that was now rushing through me. I hadn’t been back here in five years, but as I walked, it was as if time had stood still.

The same rows of houses stood proudly on either side, their paint faded and chipped in places but still standing strong. The distant hum of daily life—the chatter from the corner café, the low murmur of passing cars—reminded me of my past, and yet I felt like a stranger walking through it all.

I adjusted the strap of my bag, the weight of my decisions pulling me forward. I was different now—more polished, more certain. But it wasn’t lost on me that coming back to this place felt like returning to the beginning, like I was revisiting the person I used to be and wondering if I could ever fully shed that skin.

My new apartment was just a few blocks away. It was modern, sleek, nothing like the quaint little house I had grown up in. I had worked hard for this moment—the quiet space that would become mine. I couldn’t wait to start over, but at the same time, I couldn’t help but feel a little apprehensive about what I was really walking into.

As I approached my building, I caught a glimpse of someone ahead of me on the sidewalk. They were walking towards me, and even from a distance, I recognized the familiar gait.The memory of our old friendship came rushing back—quiet afternoons spent in the park, nights watching movies, and those long, aimless conversations we used to have.

We hadn’t kept in touch much after high school, each of us pursuing different paths, but something about seeing him again felt like an anchor.

“Iris?” Kai’s voice was full of disbelief, as if the sight of me standing there was something too surreal to process. It echoed the same warmth and sincerity I remembered from all those years ago, that easy kindness he carried—something that was just naturally a part of him..

"Hey," I said, my voice a little too soft, feeling like I hadn’t quite figured out how to say the words I’d been holding onto all this time. I set my suitcase down and stepped closer, the familiar beat of my heart quickening with excitement. Without thinking, I wrapped my arms around him in a hug, the kind that only old friends could share—tight, almost urgent, as if trying to make up for lost time.

His embrace was warm, his body solid and real, and for a second, I could almost pretend nothing had changed, that we were still the two kids who spent lazy afternoons talking about everything and anything at all.

When we pulled away, I could see the surprise etched across his face, his brow furrowed slightly as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing. "You’re back?" he asked, his voice edged with something close to awe. "I didn’t even know you were coming."

I smiled, the rush of nostalgia flooding through me. "It’s a surprise," I said, my words coming out almost breathless. I hadn’t even told my parents yet—wanted to see their faces when I walked through the door. "I thought I’d catch everyone off guard."

"Well, wow," Kai said, shaking his head slowly. His eyes still didn’t quite believe it. "I never thought you’d come back. Shit. I’m honestly in shock right now."

"Yeah, I didn’t think I’d come back either," I said, my voice softening as I glanced around the street, as if trying to anchor myself in the moment. "It feels strange but good, I think I just needed a change. You know how it is."

We stood there for a long moment, the weight of years between us hanging in the quiet space that neither of us knew how to fill. Five years had passed, five years filled with new experiences, new lives. But somehow, the world around us felt the same—unchanged. And yet, we both knew, deep down, that we weren’t the same. Neither of us had stayed in place.

"No yeah of course, so what’ve you been up to?" Kai asked, trying to steer the conversation into safer waters. There was a curiosity in his voice, but it was tinged with something else—a hint of pride, maybe, or maybe just the simple joy of hearing my story. "I saw something about you passing the bar a while ago. But other than that I don’t really know much."

A small, satisfied smile tugged at my lips. I had worked for this, fought for it. It wasn’t something I had shared with anyone outside of close circles, but now, talking to him, it felt like I could finally let it spill out. "Yeah, I graduated from law school a few years ago," I said, letting the weight of the words settle. "Been working at a firm in the city. It's been hectic, but it’s definitely paid off." I paused, glancing up at him, the excitement bubbling up again. "And now I’m done with school.Thought it was time to take a break and come home."

Kai’s eyes widened, a grin spreading across his face. "Wow," he said, his voice infused with admiration. "A lawyer, huh? I always knew you’d go on to do big things."

It felt good to hear that—those words that meant more than just approval. They carried weight, because Kai had always been the one who knew me best back then. He knew how I dreamed of doing something meaningful, something big, and hearing him say it out loud made it real. "Well, it hasn’t been easy," I said, with a small shrug. "A lot of long nights and even longer days, but I made it. And now, I’m going to start a new chapter in my new apartment."

Kai’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, his mouth slightly agape. "Wait, you’re not staying with your folks?" His voice rose an octave, disbelief taking over. "Where are you staying, then?"

I couldn’t suppress the grin that tugged at my lips. It felt good to let it out, to let him see the strides I had taken. "The Heights," I said, my voice almost smug, though I didn’t mean it to be. 

His expression froze for a moment, as if processing what I’d just said. His eyes flicked down to the suitcase at my feet and then back to me, and I could see the shock register. "Hold on, The Heights?" he asked, his voice incredulous. "As in the most expensive apartment complex in the whole city, that The Heights, seriously?"

I nodded, feeling a rush of pride course through me. "Yeah," I said, my voice steady but tinged with satisfaction. "That’s the one. It’s perfect Kai, I just need some peace and quiet, no more fighting over the bathroom or having to hide snacks."

Kai blinked at me, his mouth dropping open. "Damn sis I knew lawyers made a lot of money but shit that place is hella expensive, you gotta show me around some time."

I shrugged, trying to downplay the growing sense of accomplishment in my chest. "Oh I definitely will, turns out when you’re a corporate lawyer you can make things like that work. So I thought why not, it’s a good investment and I’ve worked hard for it."

Kai stared at me for a moment, shaking his head as if he was still trying to catch up. "God, I can’t believe this," he said, a small laugh escaping him. "I wish those stupid bitches from highschool could see you now, they’d shit their pants.."

"Thanks, Kai," I said, unable to wipe the smile from my face. There was something comforting about hearing his approval, about having him see me, finally, as the person I’d become. "It feels like it’s been a long time coming."

"Well, if anyone deserves it, it’s you," Kai said, his voice warm with sincerity. There was no mistaking the pride in his words, and for a moment, everything felt right again. "I’m happy for you. Really."

"Thanks." I glanced down at my watch, suddenly aware that I was running out of time. "Shit, I’d love to keep talking but I should probably get going, I need to unpack and get settled in. But let’s definitely catch up soon, okay?"

"Of course," Kai replied, flashing that easy grin that I remembered so well. "Let me know if you need anything. And we are definitely grabbing a drink sometime soon. Don’t forget that."

"For sure," I said, giving him a small wave. As I turned to walk toward my new apartment, I felt a mix of emotions settle in my chest. A sense of finality, maybe, or maybe it was more like relief. I was saying goodbye to something—some version of myself—and stepping into a new chapter of my life.

And yet, the entire time, Kai’s presence lingered in my mind, like a bridge between the past and the future. The years had changed us both in ways we couldn’t quite articulate, but somehow, in that brief moment of connection, we had found something that was still us.

The apartment complex was a far cry from anything I’d ever imagined for myself growing up in this small town. As I stepped through the front doors, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of luxury settle around me. The lobby was an open, airy space that stretched far beyond what seemed necessary, with towering windows that let in the soft afternoon light, casting everything in a golden hue.

The floors were polished marble—so smooth and reflective that they almost looked like they could have been an extension of the sky. Everything screamed opulence, from the sleek, modern furnishings to the delicate touches of gold and glass accents that shimmered subtly in the sunlight.

The scent of fresh flowers lingered in the air, their fragrance light and sweet, adding an almost surreal quality to the space. Soft classical music played from hidden speakers, filling the silence with a calmness that seemed intentional—designed to soothe and impress. A large chandelier made of crystal dangled from the ceiling, its delicate prongs glistening as they caught the light.

Everything in the lobby exuded a sense of wealth—this wasn’t the kind of place someone like me would’ve been familiar with just five years ago. The kind of place where only the elite, the successful, the untouchable people lived. I felt out of place, yet at the same time, a rush of pride swelled inside me.

I approached the front desk, trying to act casual, even though every part of me felt like I was in a dream. The receptionist, impeccably dressed in a minimalist black suit, smiled warmly as I approached. “Welcome, Miss Iris,” she said, her voice as polished as everything around us. She handed me the key to my new apartment with a grace that made the whole interaction feel almost theatrical.

“If you need anything at all, please let me know. I’d be happy to help.” Her words were polite, professional, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was so used to dealing with people like this—the ones who belonged here. The ones who fit into the sleek, perfectly curated world of The Heights.

“Thank you,” I said, offering a polite smile before heading toward the elevator. I couldn’t help but feel a wave of anticipation as I pressed the button for the top floor. The building was stunning, and everything about it felt like the next step in my life.

The elevator doors opened to the top floor with a soft chime, and I stepped out, looking down the hall to my door. As I walked toward it, I tried to imagine what my new life would look like here—what it would feel like to truly call this place home. I unlocked the door and stepped inside, immediately struck by the spaciousness of the apartment.

It was everything I had hoped for: clean, modern, filled with light and possibility. The windows offered a breathtaking view of the town, its familiarity mixing with the excitement of this new chapter.

I dropped my suitcase, feeling the tension in my shoulders ease for the first time in days. I walked through the apartment, taking in the details—the sleek furniture, the open kitchen, the large windows that seemed to stretch out forever. It felt like the first place I had ever truly owned, and it was mine.

Without thinking, I ran across the living room, a sense of childlike wonder rising in me. I laughed quietly to myself, overwhelmed by how perfect everything was. I let myself flop onto the couch, staring at the ceiling and exhaling a long, contented breath.

Just as I finally began to settle in, letting the soft hum of the apartment calm my nerves, a sudden thud shattered the peace. My body went stiff, every muscle tightening instinctively. The sound was so loud, so jarring, that it felt as if the walls themselves had trembled in response. I sat up straight, my pulse quickening as I tried to make sense of what I’d just heard.

Then, a steady, rhythmic pounding followed—a heavy thwack, thwack, thwack against what I could only imagine was the wall separating us. The sound reverberated through the floor and up into my chest, like the thundering pulse of something alive, relentless.

There was a brief pause, a brief silence that made my skin crawl. And then, a deep grunt echoed through the air, followed by more pounding—louder now, faster, as though someone was throwing their entire body into each strike. It was impossible to ignore, impossible to pretend it wasn’t happening.

I furrowed my brow, feeling the heat of irritation spread through my veins. I hadn’t expected to hear anything so aggressive. The noise rattled through the apartment like a storm crashing through a quiet night, and for a split second, I found myself holding my breath, waiting for it to stop. But it didn’t.

---------------------------------

Several hours later, the noise hadn’t ceased. If anything, it had grown more persistent, more punishing. The sound of fists pounding against something—hard and fast—seemed to rattle every corner of the apartment. I lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling, my body tense and unwilling to relax, even as the sheets shifted beneath me.

Every thud felt like it was reverberating through the floorboards, through the walls, like some kind of invasion of my very space. Each hit landed with a sickening resonance that seemed to crawl beneath my skin, digging its way into my patience.

I couldn’t take it any longer.

I threw the covers off, frustration boiling in my chest. I needed to sleep. I deserved to sleep in peace for once, and yet here I was, trapped in an endless loop of noise that refused to stop. My thoughts spun with annoyance, frustration, and a growing sense of helplessness. What kind of person does this? What kind of neighbor keeps someone awake like this, pounding away like a damn animal? It was disrespectful and I was done being the silent victim of it.

I stood up, the cool floor against my bare feet grounding me for a moment as I walked toward the door, trying to think through my next steps. The thought of confronting this loud, inconsiderate stranger sent a mixture of dread and determination through me, but I was past the point of simply ignoring it.

I changed into my silk pajamas—soft and comforting, but completely incongruent with the sense of agitation I was carrying, the fabric slid against my skin as I adjusted the top and pulled the shorts on. With every step I took toward the door, I could feel my heart pounding louder than the noise. By the time I reached it, my resolve had solidified. This wasn’t just about sleep anymore. This was about respect. It couldn’t just play nice and let this idiot walk all over me.

I stepped forward and knocked. Hard. The sound of my fist hitting the door felt like it would be enough to wake the dead, but when I stood there, waiting for a response it was met with silence. Nothing. My teeth clenched as I slammed my fist against the door again, harder this time, trying to shake whatever the hell this person was doing in there, to make them hear me. Still nothing. I could feel my patience unraveling with each passing second. The pounding continued—louder, faster, more frantic, as if mocking my attempt to get their attention.

I was at the brink. Frustrated, I pressed my shoulder against the door and used my full weight to push against it. Nothing. It was locked. But then, just as I was about to lose it, the door swung open suddenly—too fast—and my body lurched forward, caught off guard. I crashed straight into something warm and solid—someone, to be exact.

Strong arms wrapped around me instinctively, holding me steady as I stumbled forward.

“Are you okay?” The voice that spoke was low and smooth, laced with concern and something else—something I couldn’t quite place.

I blinked, a little dazed from the collision, but I quickly recovered, stepping back with a nervous laugh to smooth out the front of my silk pajamas. "Yeah. Sorry about that." I glanced up at the man, trying to pull myself together. "I’m your new neighbor," I said, forcing the words out in a business-like manner, but something about the situation made it feel surreal.

And then I met his eyes. Everything stopped. The room, the noise, my racing thoughts—they all faded away, eclipsed by the shock of recognition. Standing before me, looking like some kind of vision, was Jungkook. My highschool crush, and the most popular guy in school who had been a distant figure back then, someone so far out of my reach that I never once considered the possibility of us crossing paths..

But now—he was standing there, inches away from me, with a body built from hours of training and discipline. His black t-shirt stretched across his chest, the sleeves tight around his biceps, revealing tattoos that snaked down his arms, some intricate, some abstract. His dark hair was tied back in a messy bun, and there was a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead. His jawline was sharp, his eyes intense, and his gaze held a curiosity that made my stomach twist in an unexpected, unsettling way.

For a moment, I couldn’t move. I was frozen in place, completely caught off guard by the man in front of me. And then, as if to snap me back into reality, he spoke again, this time his tone was cold and a little impatient. "Do you need something?" he asked, his words clipped. "I'm in the middle of a training session."

I blinked, finding my voice again, though it was laced with irritation. "Actually, yes," I shot back, the tension I’d been holding onto spilling out. “I need you to keep it down. I can’t sleep with all that noise you’re making. It’s disrespectful to your neighbors.”

The words left my mouth sharper than I’d intended, and for a second, I wasn’t sure if I cared. He had no right to be this loud. No right to make me feel like I was the one in the wrong.Jungkook looked at me, his expression unreadable for a beat. But something flickered behind his eyes—an irritation that mirrored my own.

The silence between us hung thick in the air, charged with something I couldn’t put my finger on. Was he really this rude? This inconsiderate? I’d come here, expecting at least some understanding, but instead, I felt like I was standing on the wrong side of an unspoken line.

“No.”

I took a deep breath, trying to calm the burning irritation that was quickly flooding through me. “No,” I repeated, my voice still steady, but firm. It was the only word I could manage, but it carried everything I wanted to say.

Jungkook, however, wasn’t having it. He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, that same unbothered, borderline dismissive expression still on his face. "No," he said back, his tone harsh and almost mocking, as if my complaint was nothing more than a small inconvenience to him. "I've been living here for years, and no one has ever complained about the noise. So why the hell should I stop just because my bratty new neighbor thinks she can tell me what to do?"

My mouth fell open. Bratty? The word stung, and I immediately felt the weight of the insult. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing—this was how he was going to handle it? Like it was nothing, like I was nothing? The nerve of him. I took a step forward, my anger flaring. “Excuse me?” I bit out, my voice sharper now. “You don't get to call me that. I'm just asking for a little respect.”

But Jungkook stood his ground, his eyes narrowing, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "I’m not stopping, okay? Deal with it.” He turned away, leaving me standing in the doorway, mouth agape and completely speechless.

I stood there for a moment, my chest tight with frustration, my pulse racing. I had never expected such a careless, rude response. How could someone be so selfish? I was being reasonable, but he didn’t give a damn. As much as I hated it, there was nothing more I could do. Not here, not now.

Sighing in defeat, I turned around and walked out of his apartment, heading toward the front desk. Maybe there was something else I could do. Maybe I could change rooms. A different floor, a quieter corner of the building—anything to get away from the noise.

When I reached the front desk, I didn’t even hesitate before asking. “Hi, is there any way I can change rooms? The noise from next door is unbearable. I can't sleep like this.” The receptionist gave me a gentle, apologetic smile.

“I’m so sorry, Miss Iris, but there are only two penthouse suites in the building—the one you're staying in and the other one that Mr. Jeon Jungkook occupies. Unfortunately, we don't have any available rooms on that floor."

I froze. The weight of the words crashed down on me, and I felt a dull sense of panic creep into my chest. The other penthouse suite. Of course, he’d be on the same floor. It only made sense.

I let out a long, defeated sigh. “Right. Thanks.” There was nothing I could do, no way around it. I couldn’t change floors, and the thought of confronting Jungkook again made me feel sick to my stomach.

I turned and trudged back toward my apartment, the long hallway stretching out before me like a labyrinth of inevitable frustration. I wanted to slam the door and bury myself under the covers, but I couldn’t escape the noise. It was going to be a long night.

Hours later, I was still wide awake. Every thud, every grunt, every strike against the wall felt like a hammer against my skull. My eyes felt heavy, but sleep never came. The time seemed to stretch on and on, an endless cycle of noise and silence, my body aching for rest that was nowhere to be found. I hadn’t blinked in what felt like forever. The pounding from next door showed no sign of stopping. The clock on my bedside table seemed to mock me, ticking away in slow motion.

When the noise finally ceased, my body went rigid with hope. I nearly leaped out of bed, glancing at the clock—only to freeze when I saw the time. It was 9 AM. A full night had passed, and I hadn't slept a wink. The realization hit me like a ton of bricks. I groaned in frustration, rubbing my eyes furiously, trying to will myself into consciousness despite the exhaustion that weighed me down.

With a sigh, I shuffled to the bathroom, throwing my hair into a messy bun and slipping on the soft robe I had left hanging in the bathroom. I needed coffee. I needed something to wake up and get through this first day back. My mind felt foggy, my head pounding in sync with the sleepless night I had just endured.

Making my way down to the breakfast bar, I was surprised at how quiet it was. The entire space was empty—no other guests, no bustling crowd to greet me. The silence in the lavish room only highlighted the sense of isolation that had settled over me, and my eyes flitted over the marble countertops and gleaming surfaces. It was beautiful—too beautiful.

I approached the nearest waiter, still feeling the weight of sleep-deprivation pressing on me, and asked in a daze, “Where is everyone? Is this place usually empty?”

The waiter offered a polite, almost apologetic smile. “This breakfast is only open to the penthouse suite owners, Miss Iris,” he explained softly, as if it were some exclusive secret that only a select few knew about. “It's a private service.”

I blinked, surprised at the exclusivity. The penthouse suites were far more than just lavish; they were reserved, and that alone made me feel like I had just entered a whole new world of luxury I never fully understood until now. My excitement flickered, and I felt a small smile tug at my lips as I made my way toward the nearest table.

But then, just as I was about to sit down, I heard the soft sound of footsteps approaching. My stomach dropped, and I turned just in time to see Jungkook walk into the breakfast bar, looking completely at ease, as if he belonged here. His presence made my heart stutter for a moment. Of course, he would be here too. How could I forget that we were now neighbors?

I stood frozen, my initial excitement now replaced with a dull, sinking feeling. The reality of sharing this space with him, knowing that we were stuck on the same floor, made my stomach twist in a way I hadn’t expected.

Jungkook caught my eye briefly, and the brief flicker of recognition that passed between us was enough to send a pulse of heat to my cheeks. But I quickly looked away, my nerves spiking again as I tried to calm the swirl of thoughts flooding my mind.

The moment I sat down at the breakfast bar, I tried my hardest to ignore Jungkook's presence. I had already been up for hours, exhausted, and the last thing I wanted to deal with was him, his presence already irritating me the moment he walked in. I had been up most of the night, tossing and turning, listening to the constant noise next door, and I had gotten nothing but frustration and sleep deprivation in return. The last thing I needed was to engage with him, so I focused on my pancakes, pretending he wasn’t sitting across from me.

I took a bite, trying to savor the food, but the heaviness of the night still lingered in the pit of my stomach. I should’ve gotten a different room. But that thought wasn’t going to help anything now. I wasn’t going to waste my time thinking about how I’d gotten myself into this situation. My gaze stayed fixed on the plate, my fork moving in robotic circles as I tried to block him out.

Then, out of nowhere, I heard the scrape of a chair. Without any warning, Jungkook slid into the seat directly across from me, his leg grazing mine as he did so. I couldn’t help but flinch slightly, my eyes narrowing in response, but I didn’t look up. Not at first. If he thought I was going to acknowledge his presence, he was sorely mistaken.

“So, this is how you're gonna be, huh?” Jungkook’s voice was casual, but there was a hint of amusement behind it.

I resisted the urge to snap at him. I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he was getting under my skin. But it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep my calm.

I kept my gaze down, forcing myself to finish my pancakes. It wasn’t about the food. It wasn’t about the luxury of the breakfast bar. It was about controlling myself, staying composed. The idea of letting him have any kind of power over me made me angry.

Jungkook, however, wasn’t about to let me have my peace. “You really gonna act like I’m not here?” he added, his tone almost playful, but there was an edge to it, like he was enjoying watching me try to hold it together.

My anger simmered, and I couldn’t hold back any longer. “Do you ever stop being a complete asshole?” The words slipped out before I could stop them, but I didn’t regret them. He was the one who had disrupted my peace. He was the one who had kept me awake all night. He deserved every bit of my irritation.

Jungkook leaned back in his chair, his gaze intense as it held mine for a beat. Then, as if realizing the full extent of what I was saying, his expression softened just a little. "My bad," he said, but the way he said it felt dismissive, like he didn’t really care at all.

My bad? That was it? After everything? He was acting like it was just a minor inconvenience to him, and it pissed me off even more. There was no apology in his voice, no empathy for the fact that I hadn’t slept at all the night before. It was like he couldn’t be bothered.

I set my fork down and exhaled sharply, my patience wearing thin. I finished my pancakes in silence, but the entire time, I felt that knot of anger twisting tighter and tighter in my chest.

As I pushed my plate away, preparing to stand up and leave, I was ready to just get away from him. I couldn’t take being in the same space as him for another second. I could already feel the annoyance bubbling up again, and I just needed to be somewhere else—anywhere else.

But as I stood, ready to leave, Jungkook reached out and grabbed my arm. The unexpected touch sent a jolt through me, and I froze for a moment, my mind racing with conflicting thoughts.

For a brief, fleeting second, I thought maybe—just maybe—he was going to apologize. Maybe he was going to admit that he’d been an asshole and that he would stop making so much noise. The warmth of his hand on my arm felt almost... protective, as though he wanted to keep me in place. I half-expected him to say something like, “I’m sorry, I’ll turn the volume down next time.”

But instead, the smirk spread across his face, and his grip tightened just a little. "You know," he began, his voice low, teasing, "your shorts are inside out."

I froze, my face flushing a deep crimson as I looked down, horrified to see the tag sticking out of the waistband. Of course, I thought. Of course, he’d notice something like that.

I felt the heat rise in my cheeks as I hurriedly yanked at the waistband, trying to fix it. My stomach churned with embarrassment, and I could feel the weight of the situation hitting me all at once. My body was still tense from the anger, the lack of sleep, and now, the sheer mortification of having him point out something so trivial, but so incredibly embarrassing.

"Shut up," I muttered, my face burning. I wanted to get out of there, away from his knowing gaze, away from his smirk, away from everything. I stood up abruptly, feeling the urge to just leave before I did something I might regret. "Stupid Jungkook," I muttered under my breath as I quickly walked away, my heart pounding in my chest.

I didn’t look back as I made my way to the elevator, the sting of humiliation and frustration still fresh in my mind. My thoughts were a whirlwind—Why the hell couldn’t I just get some peace? Why was he so impossible?

And yet, as I stepped into the elevator and the doors slid shut, I couldn’t help but think—He doesn’t even know how much he’s gotten under my skin. He’s the kind of guy who never gives a damn about anyone else. But I had no choice but to deal with him. He was my neighbor, and I had a feeling that this was just the beginning of a much bigger problem.

--------------------------------

The next few days unfolded exactly like the first—loud thuds, grunts, and the relentless pounding from next door that kept me from getting a single full night of sleep. No matter what time of day it was, it felt like the noise never stopped. I could practically feel the vibrations through the walls, and every time I tried to drift off, the sounds of his training echoed in my ears, only growing louder and more intrusive. I was at my breaking point.

I couldn’t take it anymore. He had turned my peaceful, quiet homecoming into a constant cycle of irritation and exhaustion. I had tried to be patient, but no more. It was time for a little payback.

I thought about it carefully—how to retaliate without it looking like I was being petty. The solution came to me one evening, like a light bulb going off in my head. I was going to play the piano. But not just play it. I would play it in a way that would get under his skin, just like he had done to me. I knew I had to be strategic.

So, I placed a call to have a piano delivered to my apartment. I set it up near the window so the sound would bounce right off the walls. I spent the next few hours playing scales, messing around with random notes, and making sure every press of the keys was off-pitch, each note slightly dissonant. All while wearing noise-canceling headphones, of course, ensuring I couldn’t hear a thing. My purpose was simple: to be as annoying as possible, to drown out his noise with my own.

For hours, I played with purpose—pressing the wrong keys deliberately, hitting sharp and flat notes with no care for melody or rhythm. It felt oddly satisfying to take control of the situation, to disrupt his training the way he had disrupted my sleep.

Then, just as I started to think I had finally achieved a moment of sweet vengeance, I heard it. A loud bang—like someone had kicked my door. My smirk curled into a grin as I turned the volume on the piano down, straining to listen.

The door rattled with another forceful knock. I stood up and smoothed my shirt, bracing myself for the confrontation. I knew who it was before I even opened the door. The deep, frustrated sigh, the unmistakable presence of him standing on the other side. As I pulled it open, I was met with the sight of Jungkook standing in the doorway, shirtless, his well-defined tattoos now fully on display. His breath was ragged, and his expression was dark, almost seething.

I couldn’t help but notice how much more intimidating he looked without a shirt. His muscles rippled with every movement, and his tattoos—dark, intricate—made him look even more imposing. But none of that could disguise the anger that flashed across his face.

He took a step forward, his eyes burning with irritation. “Are you on something?” he asked, his voice low and rough, the anger evident in his tone.

I blinked innocently, feigning a calm I didn’t quite feel. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, my voice dripping with sweetness, though my mind was anything but. Inside, I was brimming with a sense of victory—he had come to me, just like I knew he would.

He was seething now, his fists clenching at his sides. “This isn’t funny,” he growled, his voice dropping into a warning. “You’ve been playing that damn thing for hours. I could hear you through the walls. What is it, some kind of revenge thing?”

I raised an eyebrow, a wicked smile tugging at my lips. “Revenge?” I repeated, making a show of thinking. “I’m not sure. I’m just practicing. I don’t know why you’re so bothered by it.”

The room between us felt charged with tension, his anger mixing with my frustration. For a moment, neither of us spoke. I could practically feel the standoff, the quiet before something bigger broke out.

Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair, his expression softening just a bit. "Look," he muttered, clearly trying to calm himself down, "you need to stop playing that piano. It's driving me insane."

I didn’t back down, my eyes narrowing. "You think I want to listen to you training all day?"

We stared each other down, neither of us willing to back off. The silence between us grew thick, before he exhaled sharply, a reluctant agreement slipping from his lips. "Fine. Here’s the deal. I’ll cut my training down."

I felt a rush of relief, knowing I had found a middle ground. And I was finally getting some control back. "Alright," I said, my voice firmer now. "And I’ll keep playing the piano for a few hours in the morning." I crossed my arms and looked at him expectantly.

Jungkook stared at me for a long moment, his chest still heaving slightly from the anger and the physical exertion. But finally, he nodded.

“Deal.”

I smirked, satisfied. "Good," I said, giving him one last look. "I’ll hold you to that."

With that, I closed the door between us, my heart racing with the adrenaline of the standoff. I had won this round. It felt good. But something told me this wasn’t the last time we’d clash. Not by a long shot.

The night that followed was the most peaceful one I’d had in ages. No incessant thumping, no distant grunts, no thuds of a punch landing on a bag or weights clanging in a makeshift gym. Just the soft hum of the city around me, the kind that I had long since gotten used to but had never truly appreciated until now. It was like the universe had decided to give me a break, a moment of silence after the chaos that Jungkook had brought into my life.

I settled into the quiet, my body finally relaxing after what felt like an eternity of exhaustion. But still, the strange thoughts kept bubbling up in my mind—thoughts I didn’t want to entertain, yet couldn’t push away. Jungkook. The man who had once been the object of my high school crush, and who now, in a strange twist of fate, was my infuriatingly loud neighbor.

Curiosity gnawed at me, making it impossible to focus. I needed to know more about him. What had happened to that carefree boy I had crushed on all those years ago? What was he like now? What has changed? I grabbed my phone, typing his name into the search bar, almost hesitantly. The results came up almost instantly, and I was met with a flood of information that left me speechless.

Jungkook was not just any man. He was a world-famous boxer. His net worth? Billions. Billions. It was hard to wrap my head around. No wonder he spent so much time training—he wasn’t just trying to maintain a career, he was trying to stay at the top of his game. And with that much money, it made sense why he lived the way he did. No wonder he didn’t seem to care about the noise he was making. He was too far removed from the rest of us.

I leaned back, staring at the phone screen. It was so surreal to think about. In high school, Jungkook had been the charming, confident athlete, always surrounded by the popular girls who adored him, their hands all over him, praising him like he was some kind of god. I had been a quiet girl, more interested in my grades than in chasing popularity. He never noticed me then, and looking at him now, it wasn’t much of a surprise that he didn’t recognize me.

But still, part of me couldn’t help but wonder how much of the man I saw now was still that same guy. Was he still driven by the same love for sports, the same desire to be the best? Or had he become consumed by his success, turning into someone completely different?

I pushed the thoughts aside. No need to dwell on it. I had my own life now, my own accomplishments, and I didn’t need to compare myself to him. Still, the question lingered: What happened to the Jungkook I once admired?

I decided I needed a change of scenery. I couldn’t stay cooped up in my room any longer. I slid open the balcony door and stepped outside, grateful for the cool air that hit my skin. The city stretched out before me, the lights from the streets below twinkling like stars, and the faint sounds of traffic drifting up. I leaned against the railing, taking in the view, letting my thoughts settle.

I closed my eyes for a moment, breathing deeply, trying to focus on the peace of the night. But then, I heard it. A slow exhale, deep and deliberate. My eyes snapped open, and I turned to see none other than Jungkook standing next to me on his balcony, barely a few feet away.

He was shirtless, his hair damp as if he had just stepped out of the shower, and he was holding a cigarette between his fingers. His gaze flicked over to me, and I felt my heart stutter in my chest. There he was, standing like he owned the entire city, as confident as ever. I couldn’t help but notice the tattoos that covered his arms, the muscles that rippled as he moved.

"It’s rude to stare, you know," he said, his voice casual but laced with that same smugness I remembered from high school.

I blinked, a little caught off guard, but quickly regained my composure. "I wasn’t staring," I shot back, crossing my arms.

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Yeah, sure. You’re not exactly being subtle, you know."

I narrowed my eyes at him, but I wasn’t about to back down. "What do you want, Jungkook?"

He took another drag from his cigarette, his eyes never leaving me. "I’m bored," he said, his tone almost whiny, but with a hint of frustration. "I'd be training right now, but I can't because of you." He paused, his gaze flicking down to the floor of his balcony before meeting mine again. "It’s kind of annoying, you know. You’ve been killing my vibe."

I stared at him, taken aback. What was he talking about? "You’re the one making all the noise," I said, not bothering to hide the frustration in my voice. "I’ve barely gotten any sleep because of you."

Jungkook just shrugged, unfazed. "Well, I didn’t tell you to move next door to me." His voice was flat, almost dismissive.

I was livid. "Maybe you should learn to be more considerate of the people around you," I snapped, my anger rising again.

He just exhaled smoke and leaned back against the railing. "My bad," he said, his tone sarcastic. "I’ll make sure to send you a nice apology card next time."

I shot him a glare but didn’t respond. We stood there in silence for a moment, the only sounds the distant hum of traffic and the occasional rustle of wind in the trees. But it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was strangely calm. Then, Jungkook broke the silence again.

“So,” he began, tilting his head slightly, “do you have anything to do right now?” His tone was casual, like he was genuinely asking, but there was a hint of something else behind it.

I was taken aback for a moment. “No,” I answered slowly, wondering where he was going with this.

He took a drag from his cigarette and exhaled, then glanced over at me with that same mischievous glint in his eye. "Well, if you don't have anything to do... wanna chill for a bit?"

I couldn’t help but stare at him. What was he playing at now? He leaned against the railing casually, his posture relaxed, as if this was some normal, everyday invitation.

“I don’t bite,” he added with a smirk.

I raised an eyebrow, the corners of my mouth twitching. “Sure you don’t,” I said, folding my arms.

He chuckled, unbothered by my sharp reply. “Come on, it’ll be fun. I’m not such a bad guy, you know.”

I hesitated, unsure what to say. Part of me wanted to keep my distance, to keep him at arm’s length. But another part of me… well, curiosity got the best of me. He was right about one thing: we hadn’t really talked outside of all the noise and hostility. Maybe it was worth a shot.

“Fine,” I said, rolling my eyes, but there was no hiding the small smile that tugged at my lips. "I’ll chill for a bit. But don’t get any weird ideas."

His grin widened, and without missing a beat, he pushed off from the railing, heading toward the entrance to his apartment. “Good. Let’s go then.”

[llama-head]

Transcript Below

[Breanna] Holy shit that was so sad.

[Autumn] Yeah, it’s a tear-jerker alright.

[Breanna] How are you crying, you’ve seen it already.

[Autumn] It’s sad!

[Breanna] I didn’t realize it was that sad, I needed more of a warning.

[Autumn] We said it’s angst with a happy ending!

[Breanna] Still! It’s different watching it than reading it.

[Autumn] Yeah, I guess. You wanna move to my room so I can let my mother out of her cage? [Breanna] Haha, sure.

[Autumn] What? What are you looking at?

[Breanna] You have a lot of polaroids.

[Autumn] Yeah I was really into it for a bit.

[Breanna] Photography?

[Autumn] No, polaroids. I took so many pictures just so I could hang them on my walls.

[Breanna] That’s so cool. Where did you get these art prints from?

[Autumn] Uh some are from online, others my mom did.

[Breanna] Really?

[Autumn] Yeah.

[Breanna] She’s talented.

[Autumn] Yeah she is.

[Breanna] So, like, what are your plans for after graduating?

[Autumn] Not much, I’m gonna stay around here for a bit, work, then maybe get a real job.

[Breanna] You don’t wanna go to school for anything?

[Autumn] Not really. I have no clue what I’d do. What about you?

[Breanna] I’m not really sure either. 

[Autumn]You still got time to figure it out.

[Breanna] I just feel weird not having any direction in life.

[Autumn] Oh, we’re getting deep about this.

[Breanna] It’s just, everyone I’m friends with has it all planned out.

[Autumn] Not everyone.

[Breanna] Pretty much! Even Vincent does!

[Autumn] Vincent wants to run a tattoo shop out of his house, that’s not really a direction in life.

[Breanna] It’s something!

[Autumn] I mean, you’ll figure it out, you just gotta think about it. And, hey, at least we both have no clue what we’re doing.

[soutsuji]

There's an English class on Golden Age detective fiction being offered next semester but the prerequisite for it is the intro to literary study class required for all English majors (which I haven't taken because I'm in a hard STEM major and don't have much time for electives, which means that I have to be really picky with my electives and only go for stuff I like AND doesn't have an awful workload) and also even if I did have that prereq, I wouldn't be able to take the class because it's at the same time as one of my major reqs. And also I'll be in two labs next semester and one of them is pure hell so like I literally don't have the time to take more than 13 credit hours (as tempting as it is to keep up my streak of taking 17-18 every semester even though it's been like really pretty bad for my social life and hobbies). Sigh. (Pressing my hand wistfully against the glass) maybe someday they'll offer the class again

[cowardindecay]

I wasnt ready for how brutal ticketmaster's dinamic pricing is

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐎𝐑 ! ❞

❝ THE FOUR TIMES YOUR NEIGHBOR TRIES TO HOOK UP WITH YOU AND THE ONE TIME HE SUCCEEDS !! ❞

✧ pairing: uncle! sukuna x neighbor! reader

✧ summary: you had grown up next door to the itadoris, but you never had met their uncle. and for good reason, he had spent the majority of his life in and out of jail. but now he was finally out, and he only had one goal in mind -- getting you in his bed.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, modern au, uncle sukuna, degradation (slut, whore, brat), freshly out from jail sukuna, implied age gap (sukuna probably like late 30s / early 40s, reader is like mid twenties), wet dreams (f!), masturbation (f! +m!), dom!sukuna, sub!reader, dirty talk, oral (f + m), spanking (f!receiving), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, orgasm delay (f! receiving), implied multiple rounds, swearing, fanart found on pinterest (let me know if you know the og artist)

✧ w/c: 8,939

You were a pretty little thing. 

That’s what he thought when he first saw you. And when he saw you smile, his second thought was — how could he have you? 

You were the girl next door. Literally. Grew up next to the Itadori family, you watched the brat on weekends, helped around the house after the mom had left, and even slept over some nights in the guest room. 

The very room you were in now, pinned underneath him, legs spread as your cunt gushed as if you had been the one doing time instead of him. 

“Fuck, girl, did the boys your age not fuck you properly?” He clicks his tongue, the glint of his piercing in the low light of the moonlight that illuminated the barest hint of the room. It was by that light that you could not only see the way his lips curled into a smirk as his hand came down on your needy pussy, but the noticeable bulge in his pants, “g’nna have to fix that,” as he thumbs meanly at your swollen clit, “I’ll have you screaming my name soon enough.” 

“Are the cookies almost done?” Yuji asked, rubbing the back of his head, squinting at the cookies through the oven window, trying to make sense of what he was seeing, “sure you’re not burning them?” 

“I know how to bake cookies, Yu,” you roll your eyes, as you clean the counters off of the flour and bits of dough and sugar that smeared the surface, “why are you so impatient anyway?” 

“He wants to leave before the wrecking ball blows through, and you should do that same,” Choso adds, emerging from his room with a yawn, and you tilt your head, his gaze slides to Yuji, “she doesn’t know?” 

Yuji shakes his head, “I thought Dad was—” 

Choso glances at you, gesturing to his face to tell you that you had something on your own, before his eyes slide back to his younger brother, “You know Jin can barely remember to tell us, much less—” 

You cross your arms, wiping the flour and sugar from your cheek, but you only manage to make it worse, “Can you guys just tell me instead of having an argument about who should have told me?” 

Yuji sighed, leaning against the counter, elbow propped up as he held his head up with his fist flat against his chin, “My dad’s brother is coming to stay for us for the summer,” 

“Your uncle?” and you miss the way Yuji grimaces at the question, too busy pulling on oven mitts, “Your dad’s great — I can’t imagine your uncle being any different,” you pull the cookies from the oven, swatting Yuji’s hand as he tries to take one off the still burning rack, “you’ll burn yourself, just wait,” 

Your own family was scattered here and there now — and the Itadoris had been like your own family as you grew up — Jin was like a second dad to you, he had always looked after you, even after you had graduated from college. The quiet man didn’t say much but he did a lot, and you couldn’t imagine his brother being much different. 

And then the door swung open, a large man caught in the backlight of the summer sun, casting a long shadow across the entryway made your breath stick in your chest as if it was where it belonged — pinned under his mere presence. 

“Looks like you’ve done nothing to change the place, did you?” He takes a step or two in and finally his body is cast into view — tattoos bound like ribbons against his skin, muscles are heavy cords that look more monstrous than human — as no human should be as hulking as he was. But that was nothing compared to his face itself — black tattoos lining both sides of his face in an intricate pattern that stole your breath from your lungs, while his eyes were black holes that cut right through you than at you, a flicker of flames burning underneath, “tch, brat, take my things up—“ he tosses the duffle bag slung over his shoulder at Yuji who catches it with a glare, before his gaze slides to Choso, “and he’s still here?” 

“Don’t be rude to my son and his brother, Sukuna,” Jin sighed, entering behind him as he shut the door, “Choso is welcome, and don’t forget you’re a guest here,” he takes the bag from his son, and takes it upstairs instead. 

And Sukuna’s gaze finally falls on you. It’s heavy, the sharp tip of a sword tracing every inch of your body as it circled its weak points — his eyes lingers on the curves of your body — and perhaps the points he liked too. 

“And who’s this?” he jerks his head towards you gruffly, as if you couldn’t answer yourself. 

You say your name, “I’m their neighbor,” and he nods, eyes darting to Choso, his body growing tense, as he gritted his teeth, but Sukuna was only all smiles, he took steps forward. You can’t help but avert your gaze, as he approaches, fingers outstretched, a slight flinch but it’s gone soon enough. 

You glance up, and find him taking a bite of one of your cookies, tongue darting out to lick the chocolate from his lips, “sweet,” he devours it, “not bad, brat,” and he leans close again to grab another, “but probably not as sweet as you.” 

And your eyes widen, as he bears no reaction, except for a small smirk that graces his lips, as he follows his brother upstairs, “You better not be fucking around in my things,” 

You don’t hear Jin’s reply, still utterly consumed by what just happened. 

“You okay? He’s just like that,” Choso murmurs, “he won’t bother you, I promise,” 

“No, no, I’m okay,” your lips curl in an offer of reassurance, but you’re sure it falls flat, as your eyes glance back at the stairs. 

And that was your first time meeting Sukuna. 

But far from your last.  

The next time you saw him was at a summer barbecue the Itadoris always had to kick off summer break. And most of your time was spent chatting with Choso and kicking Yuji’s ass at Mario Kart, until it grew dark, and Choso was stuck carrying a slightly tipsy Yuji inside.

You laid back in the patio chair, scrolling on your phone to the symphony of cicadas filling the silence, the smoke from the barbecue still lingering in the night — and then you hear the creak of the back door open. 

“You want another drink, Choso?” 

“I’d love a drink, girl,” and your eyes snap over to spot Sukuna, standing with hands tucked into his pockets, a black tank you assumed was several sizes too small. 

“Sure,” you say, slipping from your chair, “but we only have the mix for a sex on the beach,” and his eyes find yours, a ghost of a gruff chuckle on his lips. 

“Sounds perfect if it’s from you, sweetheart,” and you have to suppress the urge to roll your eyes — he may be nice to look at, but he isn’t smooth, you make the drink in relative silence. Until you sense his presence behind you, your head whipping back to find him looming, your breath caught in your throat. 

“Uh—“ 

“Just wanted to see a master bartender at work, you seem like you really know what you’re doing, with, what’s the drink called again?” And you force yourself to look forward, ignoring the weird mix of his musk and alcohol, with the clink of the ice cubes against the glsd breaking the silence. 

“Sex on the beach,” you offer it to him, and fuck, you don’t like it — don’t like him and his smug grin, the way your eyes can’t pull away from his, the way your heart clenched, and the way you wanted nothing more than to wipe the smug smile on off his face. 

“Good girl,” he plucks the drink from you, his fingers brushing yours, “want to have one with me?” 

And you almost find yourself saying yes, find yourself buckling under the heat of his gaze and the summer humidity that clings to your skin and strangles the sense from your head — and you can’t help but think how nice those fingers of his would feel around your neck—

“No, no, I probably should head home. It’s late—“ and just then the back door opens again, Choso standing in the doorway, “Choso, where’s Yu?” 

“I got him to bed. Come on, I’ll walk you home,” and you nod, grabbing your bag with a slight nod to Sukuna before disappearing inside, and you don’t catch the way your best friend glares at Sukuna. 

And you don’t see the way Sukuna stares at you as you walk away either. 

The third time you meet Sukuna is a few nights later — and it wasn’t for lack of trying to avoid him. 

“Can I have some popcorn?” you ask, eyes still glued to the TV, a movie that the two of you had seen a million times before during movie night, “Choso?” you glance over at him, but he’s staring off into space, “hello?” you nudge him, and he finally comes to. 

“Sorry, what?” And you sigh, leaning over and grabbing the popcorn bowl, “sorry I was just—“ he shakes his head, “nothing,” 

“You’re so convincing,” and you see a flush crawl up his neck, “C‘mon, what’s bothering you?” 

You toss a pillow at Choso, the pillow bouncing off his face to land in his lap, the glow of the TV in his dark bedroom giving you enough light to see the glare on his face, “Cho, you’ve been brooding all night — did Yuji call you by your name instead of big brother?” 

He scoffs, “I only got upset about that once,” or twice or maybe ten times, “it’s Sukuna. He’s been really grating on my nerves,” and your eyebrows knit together, as you put the volume of the TV down. 

“What has he done?” and Choso hesitates, several emotions flicker across his face before a stoic look glazes over his face, as he presses his hand to his lips, “you can tell me—“ 

There’s a knock at the door, and Yuji sticks his head in, “Hey, Dad has to sleep now for a meeting, so move to the living room,” and you throw popcorn at him, but he only catches one or two in his mouth and leaves. 

You sigh, “I should probably just go home anyway, I have to get some sleep,” you glance at Choso, who is fascinated with his floor all of a sudden, “you okay?” He moves to get up, but you shake your head, “just chill, I’ll walk back.” 

He opens his mouth to argue, but shuts it,  “I’m fine, just get home safe okay?”

You snort, “think I’ll be fine walking the ten feet to my door,” you grab your things, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” 

And you close the door softly, turning to head up the hallway and out of the house, bag slung over your shoulder, and you’re turning the corner, when you nearly crash into someone. 

A hand curls around your wrist to steady you, “You should watch where you’re going, brat,” and your eyes flit up to find a dark gaze looking back down at you, lips curled in a small grin, “don’t know what you’ll find wandering these halls,” 

You pull your arm away, “I’m pretty familiar with these halls and what wanders them,” 

“Not all of them,” the low tone of his voice sends a shiver down your spine, as you brush past him, avoiding his piercing gaze, cutting through you with practiced ease, “what were you doing here so late anyway?” You ignore him as you go to grab your shoes, but find them missing. 

“Have you seen my shoes?” and he only tilts his head, arms crossed, muscles inked with tattoos that littered up and down, and you knew he could pin you down with barely an ounce of effort. 

“Maybe answer my question and I’ll tell you,” and your lips twist into a scowl, as you begin to look around, checking the coat closet, under the couch, “was he really that bad?” And his question makes you pause, “the cursed brat, in bed? Did he not do the job for you?” 

You haul yourself to your feet, “What is your problem?” 

And his expression is as milquetoast as ever, as if he had asked you about the weather as opposed to asking if you had fucked your best friend, “You don’t have to be fucking sensitive, it’s just a question,” he runs his painted nails through his dyed cropped hair, low light glinting off the black sheen, “unless it was that bad,” 

“Fuck off,” you scoff, trying to walk past him but he blocks you, “what?” 

“Maybe I’ll help you find your shoes, if you have a drink with me,” and you cross your arms. 

“Did you go to jail for stealing? Because with all those muscles and tattoos, I’m surprised you weren’t caught sooner,” and he’s leaning closer, breath warming your lips and your blood alike, boiling under your skin as if he had set you on fire without lying a single finger on you. 

“Didn’t take you to be one to admire me, little one, after all, I’m just your neighbors’ uncle aren’t I? Jailbird, criminal, fucking lowlife, right? And his fingers ghost over your jaw, “but I don’t see you pulling away, do I?” 

And you aren’t. But why aren’t you? Every brain cell is telling you to fucking run, but your body wants nothing more than to lean into his touch, to give in, let yourself be engulfed by him—

The creak of the door has you jumping back, “hey, you forgot your shoes—“ Choso starts, and his gaze snaps between you and Sukuna. 

“Thanks, Cho,” you slip past Sukuna, grabbing your shoes, “i was wondering what I did with them,” you step into your shoes, cheeks still burning as you can’t quite meet your best friend’s eyes, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” 

And you’re gone without another word, the silence of your exit hanging overhead as the screen door clicks closed behind you. Sukuna watches you leave, and as he turns he’s met with a glare from Choso. 

Sukuna only gives a gruff chuckle, walking past as he lets his shoulder bump against Choso’s, “What are you fucking looking at?” 

And now he had visited you in your dreams too. 

“S’fucking wet,” Sukuna has you pinned down with one hand, face hovering over your drenched cunt, as he toyed with it, tugging your folds apart to let some of your pre drip onto your bedspread, “fucking slut, you were begging for this, weren’t you?” 

And a thick digit sinks into you with little resistance, making your back arch as pleasure rips up your spine, “fuck off,” you manage, between pants. 

“I know, brat, that’s what I’m trying to do,” he laughs, as he works a second finger inside you with practiced ease, “like I was made to fuck this cunt open, my fingers are already fucking drenched, and all I’ve done is open you up,” and to punctuate his point, he’s scissoring his fingers to stretch your walls out, dragging against them, as your mouth falls open in a silent moan. 

“A-ah, please—“ and he’s grinning now, a purr as he leans down to meet your blown out gaze. His fingers begin to fuck you open, his thumb rubbing against your clit as your body rocked against his hand. And a grunt has you looking at him, only to see him palming his erection, slit dripping with precum, “Sukuna, please—“ 

“Knew you’d be a good girl f’me, good little slut gonna break my fingers in two,” and his other hand spanks your clit, “now cum,” 

And you do, muscles clenching as you do, a cry of his name on your lips that does nothing but stroke his ego, your orgasm soaking his hand. Eyes fluttering open to find him licking your release from his fingers, as his other hand undoes his pants and tugs down his boxers, his cock already dragging against your still twitching cunt. 

“Fuck,” you mumble, under your breath, and he only smiles. 

“Now you’re getting it, baby.” 

And your alarm jolts you awake, you stare at your ceiling, watching the ceiling fan spin, while you glance at your side to find nothing but your comforter beside you. Not to mention, as you shifted, feeling the telltale stickiness of your arousal and the dull throbbing of your cunt, the aftermath of your dream — your very wet dream. 

“Fuck,” you say, this time out loud and to no one but yourself. This was going to be a problem, if you let this go on. And you couldn’t. Not after the last time — you swing your feet over the edge of the bed and stand, glancing back at the stain of your pre that you flipped your comforter over — and not after that. 

“Have you been avoiding me?” 

Yes, you have done a good job. Until now. 

You gritted your teeth, as you stood in the doorway of the room. But how could you have avoided him in the guest room of the house he lived in? 

And as he loomed in the doorway of the kitchen, dwelling in the shadow of his form, you were kicking the ass of past you, the one that had convinced you it was okay to stay over because Sukuna had been out. 

“Had” being the operative word. 

It had been a few days since you had found yourself at the Itadoris. And more than a few days since you had found yourself dreaming of Sukuna — waking up with his name on your tongue and your panties uncomfortably drenched. You had gone through more underwear this week than you had in a month. And it didn’t help that you felt the need to get off once you did wake, the ache between your thighs was too much to bear before sleep. 

And now here was the subject of your dirty dreams darkening your doorway, as if your dreams were some naughty prophecy waiting to unfold (though you were sure he could fold you). 

“What are you talking about?” 

And you knew exactly what he was talking about. You had made sure Sukuna wasn’t around when you came over (the absence of his motorcycle is a telltale sign), and always left before he returned. But tonight you made the mistake of drinking with Choso, the two of you finishing two bottles of sake before being completely fucked. 

Your head was spinning — you could barely have made it to the bathroom, much less your home. Choso had corralled you into taking his bed, before going and collapsing on his couch. It had been only a few hours into the night before you got up in a haze of confusion with your mouth drier than the Sahara. You pulled yourself up, slipped on thin sleep shorts that you had thrown off at some point due to the summer humidity, before finding your way to the door. 

You made your way to the kitchen, the squeak of the fridge as you pulled it open to grab a water bottle. And that’s when he spoke. 

“And here you are,” and the water bottle nearly slipped from your grasp, “no need to jump, brat, I’m not a monster or a shadow,”

No, but he’s so much worse, he’s real. 

“I was just getting something to drink,” you murmur, and he tilts his head, as he takes a step closer. 

“Just water?’ That’s not the kind of drink you still owe me,” and why was his presence so intoxicating? Several drinks in and you could still hold your own, still speak in complete sentences, and even make your way home on foot. But Sukuna comes near, and suddenly you can barely form a fucking syllable, your limbs feel far too heavy, and your body is nearly burning, as if he had turned your blood to wine without any miracle needed. 

No, it was more of a curse. 

“I don’t remember owing you anything,” and he’s tilting his head, amusement flickering across his lips, a step closer and then another, until you’re utterly engulfed in his presence. You can smell the mix of exhaust and sweat off of him from his motorcycle ride, the way his jaw tenses as if he is holding himself back from taking a bite, and the way his gaze pierces into you as if he has you pinned like a butterfly under glass. 

“Do I need to give you a reason?” And when his fingers ghosted over your swell of your cheek, a featherlight brush from rough, calloused skin that makes a shiver roll down your body, “didn’t think I had to with the way you were nearly melting into my touch when I saw you last, girl,” 

“I wasn’t the one begging for me to be there,” and he clicks his tongue derisively, and you wonder what else he can do with it, before his fingers grip your chin roughly, forcing your gaze to his. 

“Tch, so pleased with yourself just for resisting, are you, sweetheart?” he tilts his head, while his other hand slithers down your side until he finds your waist and tugs you close, lips hanging close, a forbidden fruit begging you to take a bite, “imagine how good you’d feel if you gave in,” and you almost do, melting into his touch, as if you were made to fit in his arms, leaning up so you could feel the warm breath of his welcome—

SLAM! 

You’re sent stumbling back again, clearing your throat, as the sounds of footsteps grow close, and Yuji wanders into the kitchen, mouth pulled open by his yawn, as he blinks as he spots the two of you. 

“Hey, I thought you were asleep upstairs,” he walks past the two of you to grab a water bottle from the refrigerator, and sparing a short glance at Sukuna, “and I thought you had plans,” 

“Plans can change, brat,” Sukuna sighs, his eyes still trained on you — a homing missile with a target, and Yuji was an obstacle in the way, “shouldn’t you go back to bed?” 

“I could ask you two the same,” he leaned against the kitchen counter for a moment, while you only shook your head. 

“I’m going to go to bed,” your only exit opportunity and you’d take it — there had been enough mistakes made, and you didn’t need another to add to the list, and you’re slipping back into your room without another word. 

You don’t see the way Sukuna glares at his nephew, cursing the day of his existence with only his eyes, only gaining a confused stare in return, “What? Ow!”

And you’re only left questioning why Yuji is holding a bag of ice to his head the next morning. 

But you knew you couldn’t avoid Sukuna forever — and you couldn’t avoid how you felt either.

Especially when he gave you exactly what you wanted — space. You had barely seen him for the next week, the former criminal making himself scarce, apparently telling his brother that he had grown tired of “rooming with a bunch of brats,” and had found himself another place to stay for a while. 

Jin had sighed when you had asked over breakfast a day or so after he left, “I don’t know how long he’ll be gone, but we’ll see. The only requirement of his release was to stay in the prefecture—” 

“And that’s already far too close,” Yuji muttered under his breath, earning a sharp look from his dad, “so we don’t even know if he’ll be back huh?” 

Jin shrugs, as he sips his coffee, “I don’t know — your uncle isn’t one to stay in one place — unless there’s something that he wants,” 

“I’ll take any amount of time that he’s not here,” Choso shakes his head, offering you a small smile, “and this way you can stay over in the guest room now,” 

“Yeah, true,” you offered a weak smile, as you continued to pick at your food. This was good news, things were going back to normal, but even so, as you pushed your food on your plate — why did your chest ache so much? 

“Yuck, do people’s heads really explode like that?” Yuji sat with the two of you in the living room, TV playing the movie Yuji had chosen, shoveling popcorn by the fistful. 

“How would we know that?” you snort, stealing popcorn from his bowl, “why did you even choose this movie anyway?” 

“He heard there was a Megan Thee Stallion cameo in it,” and Yuji’s cheeks flushed, visible even in the dim illumination of the TV, as he got to his feet. 

“I’m gonna get a drink, do you two want anything?” And you both shake your heads, as you stifle your chuckle. 

“You wanna stay over tonight?” Choso asks, and you tilt your head, toying with a popcorn kernel between your fingers. 

You shrug, “we’ll see,” your eyes drift back to the movie, but you feel the creak of the bed as he shifts. 

“You don’t have been avoiding staying over, even though it’s just us,” Fuck, your eyes still found themselves on the screen instead of him, anywhere but him, and you can hear the unspoken words — even though Sukuna is not here, “are you sure we’re good?” 

And you couldn’t tell him that it wasn’t him that was bothering you. It wasn’t him keeping you up at night, it wasn’t him who had been tempting you the last few weeks, and it wasn’t him that you wanted to see — no matter how much you didn’t want to admit it, even to yourself. 

So you don’t.  

You smile as best you can, “Everything’s fine, Choso,” and he frowns, still unsure, and you know there’s only one thing that will assure him, if only a little, “I’ll stay over,” 

And so you end up in the guest room — far too late. Even though Sukuna no longer lingered here, his scent still did, even with the sheet change and the small amount of his things gone, he was still very much here. 

And it did little for your sleep. Or maybe too much. 

Again, you dreamt of him, his large palms dragging down your sides, lips pulled in a smirk that he pressed to the hollow of your throat before it’s consumed by a flash of canines that pinch and tease the softness of your flesh. 

“S’fucking wet,” he huffs a chuckle out, “such a little slut, been wanting this for far too long haven’t you?” And he’s undoing your robe with ease, a single tug has your body revealed to him, “haven’t even laid a finger on you and look at the mess you’ve made,” he clicks his tongue, and a whine parts your lips, “already whining like a bitch?” 

He shoves two fingers inside you, a gasp ripped from your throat, thick digits stretching your walls, clenching around the intrusion, “Sukuna—please,” 

“Silly girl,” he murmurs in your ear, “I’m not even the one touching you now,” and fantasy melts into reality as his hand cups your chin, eyes fluttering open, “but I know I can make you cum faster than any dream,” 

Wait. What? 

And suddenly the touch down your body feels all too real, pain ribboning from the fingers squeezing your hips hard, and a gasp as your body trembles, still caught between sleep and reality. Your body can’t move, but it’s not the weight of your own limbs keeping you still. 

Your eyes shoot open completely, sleep shed completely from your mind. 

And you found Sukuna, his lips curled in a smile that was far too familiar from other sleepless nights. But was it? Or was it another dream that he had invaded, far too real as you slept in his bed, rather than your own. 

Your hand reaches out for him shakily, fingers tracing the hard line of his jaw, “Is this real?” you mutter, more to yourself, but he takes it upon himself to answer, his hand darting out to curl around your wrist, squeezing, while the other holds himself up, mattress creaking a divot where his hand pressed in, body heat all too close. 

“Want me to pinch you? Can’t say it’ll be the cheek you’re thinking of,” he chuckles, unable to meet his gaze, “don’t go acting like a shy virgin now, woman. You’re the one having wet dreams about me,” 

“No, I-I, it wasn’t—“ but your brain is short circuiting and his laugh that rumbles against you tells you he’s enjoying this far too much, “what are you doing here? I thought you left,” the statement comes out far too biting, and he raises an eyebrow. 

“I did, but it was just for a week. I had some business to deal with,” and a grin pulls at his lips, “why? Did you miss me, brat? Is that why you’re dreaming of me?” 

You’re squirming underneath him trying to look anywhere but him, “I’m not, it wasn’t—“ and he only hums, dragging a hand down your front, until he’s reaching your shorts, a brief pause to see if you’d pull away, but you don’t, and fingers pressing against your soaked shorts. 

“That why you’re soaked through your fucking shorts?” And the rough pads of his fingers grind against your eager hole, nearly swallowing you in, only the thin fabric of your shorts keeping his fingers from fucking you then and there, “least your body’s honest — so eager to get fucked,” and he’s teasing your drenched entrance, drawing his fingers back to have your pre like spiderwebs between the two digits. 

“Sukuna, please—“ and his lips curl. 

“Tell me to stop, and I’ll go,” a small whine left your throat, the throbbing between your thighs growing with the way his gaze undid you — unscrewed you by your hinges and watched you fall apart, only to ask you to put yourself back together. 

But you couldn’t. Not without him. 

“Sukuna—“ 

“I didn’t ask you to whine, are you going to answer my question—-“ 

“Fuck me,” the words fall from your lips as if possessed, and you can’t find it in you to regret them. 

And he smiles all the same. 

“About fucking time,” and his fingers meanly rub against your clit through the paper thin fabric of your shorts, “didn’t even fucking put on panties and you expect me to think you didn’t want me fuck you open,” and embarrassment burns at your cheeks, “did you get this wet from dreaming about me?” And no words come to your mind, and he gives you a sharp spank to your clothed slit, drawing a sharp gasp to your lips and slick flooding from your folds, “better use your words, woman,” 

“Fuck, please, I need—“ and his fingers practically rip your shorts off, letting your cunt gush onto the sheets. 

“Need me to fuck you that bad? G’nna beg this criminal to fuck you open?” And he’s toying with your folds, tugging your tight hole apart as his eyes rake over your pussy, exposed for him, “after all of your teasing, what makes you think you even deserve to be fucked? Maybe I should leave you like this, fingers buried in your cunt, wishing they were your neighbor’s uncle’s,” and a sadistic smile graces his features as it only can his, “fuck yourself for me,” 

You whimper, as his fingers leave your hole, clenching around nothing as if begging for his touch, “what? But—“ 

“Fuck yourself until you cum, wanna see what you’ve been doing when you’re fucking me in your sleep,” the absence of his touch leaves you keening and needy, for something, anything to get you off. Want overcomes inhibition, and your shaky fingers find their way to your cunt, fingertips tracing the outer lips, a gasp you barely recognize as your own when you rub against your clit, “c’mon girl, gotta open yourself up for me — think I’ll fit if you just rub yourself like that?” And he’s pressing his clothed erection against your thigh — and he’s fucking big — rock hard cock rubbing against you through damp damp sweatpants. 

And his fingers grabs your own, guiding them to your slick hole, letting them slip past your fluttering walls, while his own teased your outsides, “Good girl,” and the praise makes your walls clench, and he’s chuckling, “want to be a fucking good girl, then fuck yourself until I see you cum for me,” 

You swallow your whines, beginning to move your fingers in and out, your insides clinging to you, as if begging for something longer, thicker, better — and you knew his fingers would be. A moan falls from your lips, and he clicks his tongue. 

“Gotta be rougher than that,” and his fingers curl around the base of your own, using your fingers as a glorified fuck toy. Your head lolled back, as he controlled the pace of your fingers, fucking you hard and fast, reaching places you didn’t think were possible with your fingers, “that’s it, you’re close aren’t you? Like being fucked with your own fingers, don’t you, you slut?” And you’re shuddering, soft cries and moans filling the silence of the night with the loud squelch of your cunt. 

“Sukuna, f-fuck, ngh, I can’t—“ and he only begins to rub on your clit with his thumb. 

“Yes you can,” he gruffly chuckles, murmuring in your ear as he leans forward, “cum on your fingers like you have every night for me,” and he forces your gaze to meet his as your fingers brush that one spot that has your back arching, “say my name,” 

And you do, cumming hard around your fingers, as he uses them to fuck you through your orgasm, the wet noises of your folds growing louder as your thighs shake. Your eyes meet his, glassy with tears from your high, and Sukuna leans down to lick the salty tear from your cheek. 

He pulls your fingers from inside you, your sticky cum coating your digits and even dripping onto his own. He smirks as he eyes them, before sliding them into his mouth. A moan pulled from your lips as he sucks your essence clean from them, tongue dragging up the length of your fingers. 

“Shit, that was a nice moan,” and his eyes fall back to your drenched cunt, “Still so fucking tight,” he clicks his tongue, Fuck, girl, did the boys your age not fuck you properly? G’nna have to fix that,” as he thumbs meanly at your swollen clit, “I’ll have you screaming my name soon enough.” 

he hums, taking in your ruined state — tear stained cheeks, your dripping cunt, and your red ruined lips from biting them, “so fucking pretty like this,” and you hear him shift, the distinct sound of his phone camera, making your eyes snap open. 

“No, fuck, no don’t—“ and he’s turning the screen around to show you how absolutely fucked you look, “please—“ 

“It’s a little too late for that, can’t have anyone buying your little virgin act anymore huh?” he’s grinning as he leans forward, pinning your thighs in place as you try to squirm away, “don’t move,” 

His order makes your muscles tense, unable to move your body under the heavy grasp of his hands splayed against your hips. The pads of his fingers dig into your soft flesh, as his lips dare closer to your weeping slit. 

“Fuck, are you a virgin though? You’re still so fucking tight even after that little show you put on for me,” and he doesn’t give you a chance to reply, his breath warming your twitching cunt, “either way, you won’t be one soon,” and he’s burying his mouth in your pussy. 

You moan, covering your mouth before he sucks on your clit, tongue teasing your hole open, a wave of heat flooding your body. The sounds of his licking and slurping fill your ears — and you wonder how the whole house isn’t awake yet. 

You can’t stop your hips from nearly fucking his face, but he spanks your thigh, hard, as he pulls his mouth from your dripping slit, “I told you not to move,” and he spanks your clit for good measure, making you yelp against your fingers, “tell me when you’re about to cum,” and you whimper, “or I can open this door and let the house hear us,” 

You nod, but he doesn’t miss the way your slit twitches at the thought, and his mouth curls in a nasty smirk, “such a fucking slut, maybe I will,” and he’s plunging two thick fingers into your greedy cunt, a gasp ripped from your throat at the intrusion, walls fluttering as they attempt to accommodate his digits. But it’s all squeezing and barely any stretch, as his fingers work you open. 

And it doesn’t take long to get you worked up, his digits knuckle deep and dripping wet, “gonna fucking break my fingers in two with your virgin hole, girl,” he grunts, your body burning with his touch alone, nails dragging against your walls, curling so they can bully that sweet spot just right, “you’re gonna cum aren’t you?” the telltale squeeze of your cunt tells him so, and you’re nodding, and his fingers slip from inside. 

You’re whining, tears burning at the corners of your eyes, “Please, fuck, wanna cum,” the pleasure that had built was throbbing, a dam close to bursting but denied its relief, so it remained, begging and waiting — “please, Sukuna—“ 

“So you do know how to beg like a good little whore, gonna fuck you again, but you can’t cum until I tell you,” and he’s sinking three fingers into you now, eyes rolling back as your back arches, but he’s fucking you meanly, curling and twisting his fingers, until the pleasure is a tight knot in your belly, barely hanging on from snapping, “wait,” he grunts, and it’s as if your warmth is made for him — or now it was, because he’s made it his, “wait,” and you’re sure he’s reached your cervix somehow, fingertips reaching places you’ve only dreamed of (literally), and then he leans down lips around your clit as he orders you, “now, cum,” 

And you do, hard, as he sucks around your clit while fucking you through your orgasm, cum flooding his fingers and face alike, drenching him, even as he slurped and sucked up every bit. 

He finally pulls away, a shiver slips down your spine as he slips his fingers from inside you, pink tongue flicking against his lips, still slick with your cum, What a fucking mess you’ve made,” he sneers, but he’s licking his lips clean all the same, “should make you clean up the mess you made, shouldn’t I?” And he’s pressing the pads of his fingers to your lips, you’re too fucked out to fight, lips parting with ease, “suck,” and you do, opening wide to let his fingers inside, lips and tongue curled around the same fingers that had explored your cunt. 

He watched as you obediently sucked every drop of your juices off, a trickle of drool slipping down the corner of your lips makes his already hard cock twitch in his pants, and he’s pulling his fingers from your mouth. 

“Better than your dreams, huh, sweetheart?” he drags his thumb down your bottom lip, he can’t fucking wait a minute longer, “turn around, gonna fuck this slutty princess cunt from behind,” but you only can watch as he tugs down his sweatpants and boxers alike, his cock slapping against his stomach. 

Fuck, he’s even bigger than you had imagined. Mushroom tip red and hard, as pretty veins run up the sides, and he was looking as if he’d not only split you open, but break you all together. 

Your thighs quaked at the thought, more slick slipping from your needy cunt — and you wanted him to.  

Your knees shake, as you turn slowly, much too slowly his pace, and he grunts, his hands gripping your hips, as he flips you onto your stomach, a yelp leaving your lips as you bounce on the mattress. “have to fuckin’ do everything myself for this whore’s pussy,”

You’re gripping the sheets, nails surely tearing holes in the thin fabric of the sheets, as his calloused palm comes down on your ass, hard, the smack echoing in the silence of the night, a mewl you don’t recognize as your own, “Sukuna, please, I can’t—“ 

“You can, you’ll take whatever I give you, brat,” and another smack finds your ass again, as he pinches the flesh for good measure, drawing another moan from your lips and another chuckle from his, “and you’ll take this cock too,” and he doesn’t spare you a moment as he presses his swollen, dripping cockhead to your drenched hole, smearing his pre all over your ass — as if to erase any doubt you were his, because there wasn’t — before finally sliding in. 

God, fuck. 

Your arms were already shaking, barely able to hold yourself up, but your face nearly plants into the mattress as he sinks into you — he was too fucking big. Even all the prep he had given you was nothing, nothing compared to how much his dick was stretching your cunt. 

He hummed, as your insides swallowed him eagerly, even with the slight resistance of your tight little pussy, watching as your walls parted for him with almost practiced ease, sucking him deeper and deeper, as if you were made for him. And you would be, after he fucked your cunt to his shape again and again — because this was far from the last time he would take you. 

It was only the first. 

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight — am I the first to fuck this pussy?” he grunts, grasping your hips tightly, your warm, wet pussy wrapped around his dick — he had waited far too long for this, too many nights spent grasping at his cock, thinking how much better it would be buried in your pussy. 

“H-hngh, Sukuna, s’big,” you’re nearly babbling as he works himself into you, inch by inch, not even halfway in, and you were gonna cum just from him putting his dick in, “can’t fit—” and he’s scoffing, watching you squirm against his length, but he only continues to fuck his way into your tight hole, another sharp slap to your ass as a warning. 

“I’ll make it fit, girl,” he growls — like fuck he was stopping now that’s gotten this far, there was only one way this was ending — and it was with his cock fucking you full of his cum, “c’mon, did the dream not compare to the reality? Did you think I had a tiny dick?” and he thrusts shallowly against you, sending another inch inside your already stuffed folds, drawing a needy whine from your throat, “so fucking loud, you gonna let the whole house know what we’re doing at this rate,” 

he murmurs, bending down to your ear, and your walls squeeze around him, a vice grip that has him nearly cumming then and there, but no he won’t, not yet, “fuck, did you think about letting Choso know? Maybe I’d let him watch me fuck you, only way he’ll ever see you like this,” and you whimper as he slams into you, finally bottoming out as his tip bullies your womb, making you cry out against your fingers, “to think the pretty girl next door is on her hands and knees like a slut for me now, getting split open by my dick. What would Choso think?”

You’re whining, “Please, fuck, slow down—” but he only pulls out a little to piston back in, balls slapping against your ass as he does, setting a mean pace, as he chuckles in your ear. 

“You’re saying that, but we both know that’s not what you want — slutty fucking pussy trying break my cock in two,” the sounds of your skin slapping against you as his tip brushes against your cervix rings in your ear, even as he murmurs in it, “y’’know he wants to fuck you right? The little brat is always watching you, nearly fisting himself at the sight of you,” he’s forcing you upwards, pressing your back to his chest, “he wants you, but he’ll never have you, because this pussy is mine,” and his hand finds the bulge in your stomach, pressing down, as you keen, head falling back against his shoulder, as tears pooled in your pretty eyes, “but he’d never be able to reach here and fuck you like you want — like a whore,” his other hand pinches and teases your pebbled nipples, before sliding up to your neck, squeezing lightly, “say you’re mine,” 

You can’t find the words, all of them fucked out of your body to make room for his cock seemingly — the only words remaining his name and “please,” but you have to do better than that, and he slows his pace to nothing, as he pulls out so only his tip teases your entrance, a whine leaving your pathetic mouth.

“If you’re not mine, guess I don’t need to let you finish, do I?” and you’re shaking your head, frantic and repentant. 

“I’m yours, i’m yours, Sukuna, please—” and he’s sliding right back into you, fucking you harder, balls slapping against your ass and sweet cunt swallowing him up to the base, a white ring of your pre cum forming around it — and he just knows you’re close, by the twitch of your sweet pussy — and his hand reaches around to rub at your clit,  “I’m—” 

And he ruts into you, hard and deep that you’re sure his length brushes against your womb — and you’re cumming, falling apart around him, but he doesn’t relent — but had he ever? He didn’t relent over these past few weeks, and he wouldn’t now, not until he was filling you up and watching his cum drip out of your hole—

You’re slipping back forward, face forward into the pillow and mattress, as he grunts watching your slick drip down your ass and thighs and onto the sheets — his balls tense with his release, “Fuck—” and that’s all the warning you get before he slams back into you to bottom out, as he blows his load. 

His release is hot as it fills you up, never ending it seems as he slowly fucks you through his orgasm, his spurts slowing with time, until he’s finally stilling, a soft grunt, as he pulls himself from inside your warm cunt. A soft groan at the sight of his seed spilling from inside you — you’re boneless and spent, until he has you jolting forward from the press of his fingers gathering his cum and stuffing it back in. 

“Kuna, fuck, I can’t—” and he scoffs, retracting his fingers for a moment, before he’s deftly flipping you onto your back, “too sensitive,” you whine as his fingers work their way back into you. 

“Did you think I was done, woman?” and his softening erection is already standing tall again, and you’re almost wanting his fingers now at this point, even as your body disagrees, pussy squeezing at the thought of him buried inside you again. He leans forward, lips brushing against yours, a kiss full of nothing of tongue and teeth, the faint taste of your own release on his lips, “we’re far from done.” 

The sound of your name catches your attention, your eyes snapping up from your breakfast, “what?” 

“Are you okay? Choso frowns at you, as he holds his rice bowl, the rolled tamago sliced on his plate, “you look tired,” It was another morning like always, but 

You shake your head, “I just didn’t sleep well, I kept waking up from my dreams,” and it wasn’t exactly a lie — yesterday was the culmination of a million dreams you had. Dreams that only ended when the sun began to come up, with his cock still buried in your cunt as you rode him, back pressed to his chest, as he worked you up and down his dick. 

And finally when he came again, this time all over your back, he finally pressed kisses up and down his back, easing himself out, as his toned arms engulfed you. 

“Should clean up and I should head to Jin’s room,” he murmurs, “I have a feeling I won’t have a place to live if he finds me in here,” and you chuckle, too fucked out and tired, “we’ll have to get used to sneaking around. 

“Oh will we?” you had mumbled, and he answered your question with another bruising kiss to your lips. 

Yuji tilts his head, scratching it, as you lift your glass to take a sip of water, mouth far too dry now, “Is that what those noises were? It sounded like you were having nightmares,” and you nearly choke on it, but force it down, hoping the embarrassment wasn’t evident on your face, stabbing your egg. 

“Yeah, I had a couple last night,” you lied, and even as you suddenly found your breakfast far too interesting, you could feel Choso’s gaze still on you — your cheeks burning as Sukuna’s words about him still rung in your ears — along with the distinct ache between your legs and on your ass he left behind, “I’m fine, I’m just going to need a nap,” 

“You’re not the only one, girl,” Sukuna walks into the kitchen from the rooms, as Yuji and Choso balk at his presence. 

Choso’s eyes narrow, “What are you doing here?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Sukuna’s eyes find yours, the corner of his lip pulled upwards, as his gaze rakes over your form, “what’s for breakfast?” and you knew he only wished that you were the thing placed on the table for him to eat. Jin barely pays any mind, too preoccupied on his phone with his work email, as he passes a plate to Sukuna. 

“When did you even get in?” Yuji asks, as he finishes his own breakfast, leaning back on his two palms. And your insides begin to tie themselves in knots at all of these questions — knowing Sukuna would like nothing more than to tell them exactly what he was doing last night. 

“And where did you sleep?” Choso glares, adding fuel to the fire, as Sukuna looks down on him, lips a thin line,  “you didn’t bother our guest, did you?” and your cheeks burn all the same, a flicker of amusement on Sukuna’s features, lips parting only for Jin to cut in.

“He got in early this morning. He slept in my room,” Jin says with a sigh, “Don’t you two have to get ready? You’re going to your mom’s this morning,” 

“She’s not my mom,” Choso grumbles under his breath, “more like a leech,” but he still gets to his feet all the same, as Yuji follows suit, picking up their plates, a comforting hand on his older brother’s shoulder. 

“I should get to work,” Jin sighs, sparing a sharp glance at his brother, “behave,” and he turns to you, “feel free to stay as long as you want. Yuji and Choso will be back this afternoon,” 

And the three of them find their way out of the house, a rush of bags and feet, as Choso spares a glance at you. 

“I’ll be back soon — you can hang out in my room if you want,” Choso says, before scowling at Sukuna, “let me know if you need anything,” and you nod, waving him off, and the door shuts behind them all. 

Sukuna slides into place beside you, sitting as the two of you eat breakfast in relative silence. You finish up your meal, and move to get up, but Sukuna’s hand finds its way onto your thigh, holding you in place. 

“Are you done?” and you glance at him, plate empty and food untouched, “with eating?” 

“I am,” you raise an eyebrow, “And you?” 

“My appetite wants something else, sweetheart,” he leans forward, fingers inching higher until his thumb grazes your inner thigh. 

“And what’s that?” and he nearly growls his next words, thin patience already tearing in two, just as he would your clothes if you weren’t careful. 

“I’m done playing coy, woman,” he’s lifting you with ease, slinging you over his shoulder as you gasp, and he’s gotten you on top of the counter, the very same counter you had baked cookies on the day he had arrived, but now his hulking body was quickly pressing your legs apart, “there’s only one thing I want to eat in this kitchen, and it’s between your fucking thighs.” 

“Not sick of it yet?” you chuckle. 

“Think I could bury myself in your slutty pussy for days and not get sick of it,” and he looms over you, just as he had that first day, and he leans down to kiss you, stealing the logic from your mind and leaving only the need for his touch behind, “it is the sweetest thing I ever tasted after all.” 

“Really?” and he smirks, as his fingers dig into the fabric of your shorts ripping them and your panties down, the cool air against your already wet cunt. 

“Want me to prove it?” 

And oh, he would. Again and again. 

✧ a/n: i have a problem. i really wanted to write something with degradation ok?

✧ taglist: , @k0z3me , @monstrousbuu , @abiiebibie , @strawmariee , @luciiferslover , @sxnkuna , @psychxbby , @addehehe , @cpu1d , @dreamtardisspace , @authorintheshadows666 , @arcielee , @trxnmagic , @smilk01 , @abcdbleh , @elisaj313-blog , @jinslunv , @n3ptunxe , @pinkyvomit , @being-me-is-not-a-sin , @rat-loves , @spider-fan72 ,, @niks1673 , @lafffyyytafffyyy , @miseraa , @astraxa-xx , @fushitoru , @hanxyy , @milky-milkyway , @nakariabnrb , @johannakhalafalla , @tojicvmbucket , @flyingtranscatofeffed , @vampzys , @caelestine-the-caelicatto , @hatsunemitskislobotomy , @k1ttybean , @catsgomurp , @goddess-ofthe-godless , @i-spilt-ink-on-my-phone , @forest-fruits-jam , @mua-for-now , @pricetagofficial

[makkir0ll]

between you and your husband, you were the one more…vocal about your love for him. leaving him sweet notes with doodles of the two of you in his lunch, ending all heartfelt messages with x’s, planting a big kiss on his cheek that he pretended to cringe at but in reality he looked forward to it everytime he left the house.

people would always come up to you, telling you that he doesn’t reciprocate his love with words and such and asking you how you dealt with it. truth be told it took a while for you to get used to but soon enough you began to see the signs.

it was the way that every time he got up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom he would tuck your feet back into bed. the way he spent a solid twenty minutes cleaning your phone screen, and with furrowed brows as he placed your new screen protector on, making sure there were no bubbles. it was when you opened his wallet that you saw all the notes you wrote him saved in one pocket of his shitty leather wallet that was begging to be put to rest. it's the way when you come home after a long night out with your friends he takes his time undressing you, removing and placing your jewelry carefully on your bedside table and making sure to gently take off your makeup and of course do your skincare routine that he has memeorized. when he goes out and he spots a little something with your favorite character on it he buys it immediately, not bothering to look at the price tag because the way your eyes would light up when he brought home the little gift was worth more than a billion dollars to him.

it was when on your third month anniversary when the two of you were still dating, while the two of you sat down on the booth next to each other at a restaurant he held your hand and squeezed it three times. signifying the words, i love you. he knew he loved you from the start but was scared it was too soon to say it and this was his silent way of telling you so. and you picked up on it quickly when he started to do it more often.

and on your wedding day, as the two of you stand in front of all your loved ones and the officiator he says the most beautiful vows ever, telling you that "if death do us part then i hope to find you in every lifetime" and once he ended with that sentence, he squeezed your hand three times. i. love. you.

you always knew your husband loved you because his actions spoke a thousand words to you.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜

sigh. TSUKISHIMA FREAKING KEI!!!!!!!!, akaashi keiji (he writes notes back to you), KITA. SHINSUKE., iwaizumi hajime (30) athletic trainer, suna rintarou, USHIJIMA, kageyama tobio (squeezed your hand a lot when you started dating), MIYA OSAMU, sakusa kiyoomi, OH OH OH AONE!!,

[eufezco]

LIKE THE FIRST TIME

it has been a long time since you and logan had sex. you should show him that despite everything he hated about himself, you still craved him.

logan x afab!reader (smut, angst) + no use of y/n. english isn't my first language (!). gif credit to @/asgardswinter

it was a shitty place where you were living with logan. it was always dirty, no matter how many times you cleaned it, it was noisy, because despite being in the middle of nowhere, the train tracks were very close to it, and it was the least home-like thing in the world. both of you were working your asses off to get out of there as soon as possible.

in your free time, you helped caliban with the housework and took care of old charles xavier while logan spent the whole day out, driving and having to deal with one of the things he hated most in the world, people.

he always came home late, tired, with his whole body aching. some nights you would fall asleep while waiting for him and even though logan asked you to do it, to not to wait up for him, most times you stayed up so just to make sure he arrived safely. you waited for him curled up in bed. when he was a minute late, your heart began to beat faster and you imagined the worst. but then he would come into the room, dragging his feet and with his head bowed down.

—how was your day?

logan grunted as he sat at the foot of your bed, you felt how the mattress sagged with his weight.

—did something happen?

you crawled to him and rested your chin on his shoulder. he let out a sigh of relief when your arms wrapped around his body and you hugged him from the back.

—just a tired fuckin' day, that's all.

you hummed, understanding. —well, now you are home so you can finally relax. would you like something to eat?

logan shook his head as he let it fall back and rest on your shoulder. he just wanted to stay like that a little longer with his body between your legs and his eyes closed. he placed one of his hands over yours resting on his stomach as you hugged him. one of his big hands was enough to cover both of yours.

—i've missed you, lo. i always miss you when you are away.

you placed a kiss on his neck. the first thing he did when he entered the house was to get rid of his shirt, keeping only the white tank top he was wearing underneath. his broad shoulders were at your disposal, his muscular arms and warm skin as well.

logan swallowed when he felt your lips on his neck. you noticed so you placed another kiss there.

—i miss you too. every second i spend away from you, i miss you.

you hummed, your heart gave a small jump of joy. while your love language was words of affirmation and you were always reminding him how much he was loved by you, logan was more of an act of service man. removing makeup from your face when you got home and were too tired to do it yourself, washing your hair and massaging your head when you showered, and leaving your coffee ready when he went to work earlier than you. hearing those words come out of logan's mouth meant the whole world.

your hands traveled down his abdomen until they reached the hem of his tshirt and easily slipped under the fabric. you felt his perfect abs under your fingertips and the hairs growing below his belly button as well. he took a deep breath, it had been so long since the last time he had allowed you to touch him like that.

you took your hands out of his tshirt and moved one of them to his neck to make logan turn his head resting on your shoulder and look at you. you connected your lips with his, his bushy beard pricked your face as you kissed him, but you didn't mind, it had been so long since you and logan had kissed so passionately that you could take it.

your tongue slipped past his lips and logan moaned, allowing his to go inside your mouth as well. you moved on the bed, putting one leg on each side of logan's body and sitting on his lap, all this without stopping kissing for a second. his hands now rested on your lower back, yours were on the back of his head to deepen the kiss.

his cock got rock hard the moment you sat on his thighs and you started to roll your hips timidly against his crotch. you felt his growing bulge rubbing against your clit through the thin fabric of your underwear. god, how bad you needed to feel him.

your hands slid down from his neck, caressing his entire torso, until they reached again the hem of his tshirt. you tried to pull the white tank top over his head, but logan stopped you. his lips parted from yours and he shook his head.

—it's okay. i want you, logan. i promise everything is fine.

you held his cheeks so he would look you in the eyes.

he was getting old, there was nothing left of the young and charming boy you met at charles' academy. his body had changed, his hair and beard were becoming whiter every day, and you were still young and full of light while he was fading away. yet you still loved and desired him, like the first day you craved his body. you found him just as hot, even hotter now, but you didn't want to force him to do something he wasn't going to enjoy.

you kissed him so he could stop worrying. —let me take care of you. i want you, lo, i need to feel you —.you mumbled against his lips. he let out a grunt when he felt you pressing your pussy harder on his bulge.

your hands traveled the same path down his chest one more time until you reached the edge of his tshirt again. you expected him to take your hands off him again but he not only allowed you to keep going but he also lifted his arms so you could pull the white tank top over his head.

—fuck —. you let out in a mix of moan and gasp. his body was breathtaking. your hands were quickly attached to his chest, hairy, hard under your touch, warm, with each of its muscles perfectly defined. abs, pecs, perfect broad and muscular shoulders, and wide strong arms, with veins running from his shoulder down his arms to the back of his hands. you ran your fingers along the thick scars that marked his body. —fuck, you're so hot.

with his hands on your back, logan gently pushed you to keep rubbing yourself against him and you moaned, he was harder if possible and you were so wet that you knew that your panties would be completely soaked. you kissed the crook of his neck while his fists clenched, clutching at the tshirt of his that you were wearing as your pajamas. logan fought against his instinct, against the animalistic way you were making him feel, but his grip became so tight that he ended up ripping the fabric.

—it was one of your favorite tshirts.

—don't care.

and logan kissed your lips as he ended up tearing the fabric completely and threw it on the floor. you grabbed the back of his head when his lips moved down your neck and collarbone. your nipples were already painfully hard when logan cupped one of your tits and wrapped his mouth around your sensitive bud.

all of a sudden you got up from his lap and he had to let your nipple go. he was worried about the way you had moved away from him, had he done something wrong?

now you were standing in the middle of the room, in front of him, only wearing your panties. your body was the most beautiful thing his eyes had ever witnessed, with scars very similar to his, with all those things you hated about yourself. was that how you felt about him? if it had not been for the pain in his whole body he would have fallen off the bed on his knees in front of you.

he huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes once you started swaying your hips from side to side while you slid your underwear down your legs. you laughed too, you felt stupid, but at least you had managed to make him smile. you two weren't the type to do those things, things were always more animalistic, more passionate, rougher. you walked towards him and leaned in to kiss him as your hands worked on the zipper of his jeans.

—you're beautiful —. he whispered.

logan helped you to straddle him again. you held your body over his thanks to your knees on the bed. with one hand you grabbed his hard cock resting impatiently against his stomach. he gasped because of your firm grip and squeezed your hips when you lined it up against your aching entrance.

you lowered yourself just enough for his tip to go in. he let out a deep grunt straight from his chest, you let out all the air you had in your lungs in a moan. you never forgot how big he was, the thickness of his cock, the patch of hair on its base, and the veins running along his shaft, but you did forget about the way it stretched you open, about the sting that his dick going deeper inside you caused.

—careful —. logan mumbled against your lips.

you kept taking him, closing your eyes shut and biting your lower lip, hissing every time you took a centimeter more inside of you. you rested your forehead against his and whined when his cock finally bottomed you. —i need a moment.

logan nodded. one of your hands sneaked in between your bodies and found your clit while his hands lovingly caressed your back. it had been so long since you had sex. logan wouldn't let you touch him, he was disgusted by his own body and he was afraid that you would see him the way he saw himself. that's why that night you decided that you would make him feel so good that he would never doubt the way you felt about him or his body.

you started by slowly rolling your hips as your fingers worked on your clit. his jaw tightened while he felt your body moving with his whole cock inside. his big hands on your hips helped you to move, setting a pace and keeping you from going faster so you wouldn't hurt yourself.

—that's it, take your time —. he said. young logan wouldn't have given you a second to get used to it, he would have fucked you mercilessly and you would have loved every second of it. but now, his eyes were focused on where your bodies became one, enjoying how your pussy adjusted to his size thanks to your fingers rubbing your clit.

he moaned once you lifted your body just a little and then dropped back onto him. you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his lips while you repeated that same move again and again. your cries and his moans mixed in your mouths. all his body jerked every time you lifted yourself a bit more and then sucked his cock completely inside you again.

—you make me feel so good, logan. always have, fuck—. you purred in his ear. his hands, previously resting on your hips, slid all the way to your ass your hands and squeezed it. in those little details you could see how he was gaining confidence, which encouraged you to keep moving without changing your pace. it was slow, passionate, intense and intimate.

between moans and cries, you kept worshiping him, telling him how much you had missed feeling him inside you, how your fingers were no comparison to his cock, how you didn't want to share these moments with anyone other than him. there was no one like him. you didn't care about his scars, his moodiness, the gray of his hair, there would never be another one for you but logan, you did not want another one.

you were close, he could feel it in the way your walls were squeezing his cock and he knew he wouldn't last longer. logan wrapped his arms around your body, pressing you against his hard chest, and your fingers knotted into his hair. he groaned, your little jumps became irregular, your legs began to shake. logan hugged you tighter and sunk his teeth into your shoulder, getting a little choked cry from you.

—cum inside me, lo. fill me up, please, i need it. let me have it, please.

oh god, your words were driving him insane and after how well you had treated him, who was he to deny your wishes?

logan held your body down on his cock as he came, hugging you tighter against him. you buried your head into the crook of his neck, moaning into his skin while your legs shook and your pussy clenched around him. it was too much. as he released himself inside you, his claws came out and trapped you between them and logan's body, you had no escape. he groaned when he felt the pain of the adamantium ripping the skin off his knuckles mixed with all the pleasure of cumming inside you.

—shit —. he immediately put the claws away when he realized. —i haven't hurt you, have i?

you shook your head, still coming down from your high. he exhaled with relief. once you had caught your breath, you straightened your back, still sitting on his lap and feeling his cock getting soft inside you. you brought his hands to the front.

—are you okay? that probably hurt —. you caressed his knuckles.

—felt too good to even think about it.

you smiled proudly and kissed him. when you broke away, he noticed the mark of his teeth on the skin of your shoulder. —'m so sorry, fuck.

—don't be. i wish you had bitten me harder.

he shook his head, keeping himself from laughing. —you're a freak.

[heavenbarnes]

something something being the breadwinner in your relationship with older bf!simon because you love him and he deserves it.

his post-military allowance it pitiful (and you’ve already complained enough times to your local body that they have a picture of you behind reception) so you both agreed that your income can cover the two of you.

plus, he makes a really good house-husband.

he watches a lot of gordon ramsay on daytime tv so there’s always a beautiful meal waiting for you when you get home.

he’s mastered the fabric softener to detergent ratio and your clothes are always warm and pressed from the iron.

he keeps the carpet vacuumed and the high shelves dusted and the windows always sparkle in the sun.

you’ve even told him you expect nothing, that he’s spent a long and hard life fighting so he could spend all day sleeping and you’d just be happy he was safe.

but he says it’s how he enjoys spending his time.

replanting the garden or building you a little table so you can both enjoy coffee outside in the summer or fixing just about anything in the house giving you grief.

says he likes being useful, likes being needed by you.

“want t’show y’how much i ‘ppreciate you”

“simon, you know i don’t need-”

“let me take care’a you, sweet’art”

every night you come home to a warm meal and a warm lap to curl up in.

simon says he likes being needed- likes being used too.

“thas’ it, right on m’tongue”

warm mouth ready to be fed.

simon’s grateful, real grateful.

“mmm- y’so fucking good t’me, taste like it too”

[jeonginsleftcheek]

Dolly III

~ part 3 of the Dolly series

pairing: lee felix x afab!reader

genre: smut, fluff, elements of horror

synopsis: as a rare doll collector, a unique sex doll piques your interest and you have to own it.

wc: 8.2k

warnings: mentions of bruises, blood and needles, some violence, haunted dolls

nsfw warnings: grinding, praise, lots of kissing, body worship, handjob, cum tasting, oral (m and f), unprotected sex, creampie

~ divider by @bunnysrph

"Good morning, Matilda. Prudence, how do you do? Ah, Mr. Avery. Looking particularly swell today." the dolls stare at you with their big eyes and smiling faces while you greet them just like every day.

Whistling about the kitchen as you prepare breakfast, your life companions are always there to listen to you and bring you comfort.

"You know, we have an exciting new family member arriving to us today. I'm expecting all of you to act polite and give him a warm welcome to his new home." you point your spatula at the dolls that were decorating the kitchen.

"I mean all of you!" you yell out, chuckling after.

"We all know what happens to naughty dolls. You don't want to experience the same scorching punishment they did." you smirk at them and though they are usually silent, it seems like they're even more quiet now.

Alive in your mind, they've heard you and are now shivering in fear but anticipating the arrival of the newest addition to your precious collection.

You really do expect them to be on their best behavior.

Not long after breakfast, your package arrives.

You practically rip open the huge box and tear off all the covers and bubble wrap, throwing them carelessly behind you.

"Oh!" you gasp.

"My my, you're just such a beauty, aren't you?" you smile at the doll staring at you from the box.

"You look like a little angel." your hands cup his cheeks.

"So soft. So sweet. You're going to be perfect for us." you look at him fondly. "Welcome home, Felix."

You lean down to kiss his cute nose, observing the freckles on his face.

He is just stunning, every little crease on him looks perfect and most importantly; he looks alive.

Yes, people might be creeped out by your love of dolls, collecting them, playing with them and hanging out with them but you never cared.

They were everything to you ever since you were a little girl so you spent so much money on getting the most rare and unique dolls you could, even getting a few ones that were supposedly haunted.

The thought of that exhilirated you, and you were convinced all of them were alive especially after you'd find them in different places or hear them giggle and whisper.

You loved that, respected the dolls and their needs but you always let them know that you were the head of the house.

It was going to be the same with this special doll.

As soon as you saw the ad, you wished you could buy all eight of them and have the rarest and craziest collection ever but they were so expensive so you settled on getting only Felix.

He just seemed so sweet and innocent to you, out of all 8 of them, you thought he looked the most doll-like and would go perfectly with your porcelain doll collection; just one of many you had.

You didn't care much that he was a sex doll, but seeing him now up close made you understand the appeal for that too.

You grabbed the manual to skim over it, not really caring about what it says, you were more interested in the letter that was in Felix's hand.

You slowly picked it up and opened it.

Hello,

my name is Felix and I am your comforting doll.

I love cuddles, hugs and kisses, sweets (especially chocolate). And videogames!

Please always keep me close to you as I love to feel your warmth, and no matter what you do with me always end it with a sweet kiss.

"You're a little cuddlebug, hm?" you pout at him. "You're just becoming cuter by the second!"

Finding another paper tucked in the pocket of his jeans, you pull it out and open it too.

My darling!

I'm ready for our first cuddling session!

I hope you bring fluffy pillows and enjoy our first night together.

"Ah! So adorable!" you squeal. "Let me introduce you to everyone." you add, quickly grabbing him and lifting him up.

"Fam, this is Felix, a very special doll. I expect you give him a warm welcome and help him feel at ease here. This is now his home as much as it is yours and I will not tolerate any sour behavior!" you say.

Of course, it's quiet but you know that they've understood you.

One of the ventriloquist dolls lips open and you chuckle.

"Yes, Parker. I know he's pretty. Now close your mouth or you'll catch flies." you chuckle, standing up and making your way to the doll.

With your fingers on its chin, you gently close the wooden doll's mouth.

"Now, where were we? Ah, yes! That outfit is atrocious. But don't worry, sweet Felix. I already prepared clothes that I know will fit your pretty face perfectly." you smirk, hoisting Felix in your arms and lifting him up.

Once you make it to your bedroom, you gently lay him down on your fluffy bed and open your wardrobe, looking at the neatly hung up outfits you had ordered online right after ordering Felix.

The dolls on the shelves all stare at him as you whistle a tune, picking out his outfit.

"This should do it." you grab one of them and make your way towards your bed.

"Let's get you out of this... whatever it is." you grip the hem of his shirt, slowly lifting it up and gasping when you notice his abs.

"Interesting." you poke his stomach and then his side. "I bet you're ticklish." you add, sliding his arms out of the shirt and tossing it aside.

"Oh!" you gasp again, noticing a few freckles on his chest. "You're so precious, Felix." your finger traces his beauty marks gently, almost making you hypnotized.

You snap out of it and unbutton his jeans, pulling the zipper down and feeling your face flush when you realize your touch had aroused the doll.

"Did you get excited, precious dolly?" you giggle at him, before looking around at the other dolls who were fixated on Felix.

"It is rude to stare." you chastise them, but they continue looking as you slide his pants down and toss them on the floor.

"I think you need help with this, Lixie." you chew on your lip as you hook your fingers in his boxers.

As soon as you slide them down, a wave of embarassment washes over you as you stare at his hard cock, glistening at the tip.

It seems that there are a few freckles on his length too and your thighs press together involuntarily.

It's been a while since you've been with someone, most people you tried to date couldn't understand your obsession with dolls and there was no way you were going to choose them over your doll family.

But, seeing that Felix was a doll and a sex doll at that, you didn't see harm in using him for what he's made for.

"We can help each other, but you can forget about putting that inside me." you warn, lifting your dress up and pushing your panties down.

"This will have to suffice, my little Lixie." you giggle as you throw your leg over him and press your wet core against his cock.

Slowly, you start grinding against him, your arousal coating his cock and balls, little whimpers leaving your mouth as you close your eyes and throw your head back.

It really has been so long, and Felix is so warm and pliant, laying under you taking it.

You speed up as you feel your high building up, you look back down at him and notice that his cheeks are rosy, making him look even cuter.

You whimper as you stare at his pretty face, his tip catching onto your clit a few times and almost slipping inside.

"Don't be naughty, Lixie. Or I'll have to punish you." you whine as his cock catches on your entrance, the tip twitching inside you.

It's as if something flashes in his eyes and you whimper loudly, cumming all over his cock and riding your high against his throbbing erection.

"You didn't cum yet?" you pout, remembering there was something about that in the manual.

"Ah, yes, you like having your hair pulled on." you smirk and continue grinding against him, your fingers now tangled in his hair.

"Cum for me, my angel." you pull on his hair and his cock twitches against your wetness before he explodes on his abs, the warm liquid pooling around his belly button and making you more wet as you grind on him once again, his cum smeared on your cunt.

You look at him as you stop your movements, your heart beating fast.

"Look what a mess we made, Lixie." you shake your head before getting up and heading to the bathroom, the dolls chilling in your room still with their eyes fixed on Felix.

You come back after cleaning yourself up to clean him too, so you can dress him in the clothes you bought him.

It's a bit of a struggle but you get a feeling that Felix really wants to cooperate.

"There, now you look like a real angel." you smile as you lean back, satisfied with the white loose pants and the white shirt, embroidered with golden flowers.

"I have some work to do on you yet." you sit him up and then grab some of your makeup.

You gently work on his face, putting some light gold eyeshadow on his eyelids, a few sparkles under his eyes and he seems to be pouting.

"You think I forgot to give you a sweet kiss, don't you?" you smirk. "I didn't, don't worry."

You finish up on his eye makeup then grab a pink lipstick, opening it up and applying it on your lips first.

"A finishing touch." you lean in, holding his face before you press your lips into his heart shaped ones, kissing him gently.

You giggle as you lean away, removing the smeared lipstick and repairing what stayed on his lips with your finger as he practically stares at you.

His eyes seem shiny and warm, something deep and dark inside them too and you can't look away.

"My sweet Lixie. So good for me." you kiss his nose and then his cheeks, making sure to kiss his pretty freckles.

You almost get completely lost in him, forgetting about the dolls watching you until one of them falls down onto the floor with a loud thud, making you jerk away from Felix.

"Jonathan! You startled me!" you reprimand the wooden doll before standing up and coming to it.

You take him in your arms and look at him.

"Are you jealous?" you ask as you gently put him back in his place, fixing his shirt and hat.

"Don't worry, I love you all equally." you pat the doll's head before turning to look at Felix.

You have a feeling that might change soon.

-

You take Felix to your workshop, a small room where you dedicate your time to repair dolls, sew their torn clothes or make them new outfits, sometimes even making a few dolls of your own.

"Welcome to my workshop, Lixie. I spend lots of time here so I guess you will too. Now, I should've started with this, but you... distracted me." your eyes fall down to his crotch before you look up at him.

"I will make sure you have everything you need and I will always treat you well, but of course I expect that to be reciprocated. Which means you are to behave well in this house, listen to what I say and be good to your brothers and sisters. If you ever do something to break the rules, there will be repercussions. And trust me, you don't want to get on my bad side." you wave your finger at the doll and it seems like he's listening intently, his eyes seemingly fearful as you sit across from him, making eye contact.

"Don't be scared, Lixie. I have a feeling that you're a good boy and that you'll be obedient. We will have no problems, you and I. I'll even reward your good behavior." you smirk at him, caressing his soft cheeks.

You lean in to press a kiss on his lips before you turn to your table and start working on your broken dolls.

Felix stares at you from where you left him, his hands tucked in his lap and eyes fixed on your hunched frame.

You almost forget about his presence as you concentrate on your work, every detail you sew into their clothes, the love you pour into them, in a way giving them a soul of their own.

Your hands seemed to dance as you kept working, until you felt a sharp pain in your neck.

"Ow!" you mutter and sit up, realizing you've been hunched over for too long, your shoulders tense, pain throbbing in your neck. "Time for a break." you announce, your stomach growling after that.

"And food, I guess." you turn to Felix, finally acknowledging his existence.

He looks to you like he wants to say something, even though he is sitting still.

"What is it, Lixie?" you lean in closer, looking right into his eyes.

He stays silent.

"Ah, you're shy. You'll come around. I'll wait for you to show yourself to me." you smirk, kissing his nose, your fingertips tracing the pretty freckles on his face.

After giving him a little kiss, you take him to your garden, which was thankfully surrounded by a tall wooden fence, hiding you away from the rest of the world.

"Sit here and I'll be right back." you sit him down on one of the fancy chairs, brushing away the hair that fell into his face.

You bring a few of your other dolls, sitting them down on the other chairs, bringing all of them a set of china; plates, cups and everything.

It's all themed with pink flowers, making everything look even more proper and fancy.

"Socialize." you wave your hand before disappearing into the kitchen, preparing a quick lunch for yourself.

You walk out into the garden some 15 minutes later with a plate of food for yourself and a glass of juice.

"I hope you're being nice to Felix." you say as you sit down, eyeing the four dolls sitting around the table, Felix being exactly across from you.

He looks a tad timid, and you're 100% sure that the expressions on his face keep changing, you know you're not just imagining it because other dolls you own have changed expressions or positions, some even giggled and whispered.

With your doll experience, Felix doesn't scare you, quite the opposite, you're waiting for him to start talking.

You make small talk with your dolls, about this beautiful day, how sunny and warm it is, how good lunch turned out.

As you continued talking, suddenly one of the cups started shaking and you look at the porcelain doll sitting next to Felix.

"Jenevieve. Don't do that! Behave." you warn but it's too late, the cup flies right into Felix's side, hitting him hard before crashing onto the floor, pieces of it flying everywhere.

Anger bubbles up in your veins as you take a deep breath in.

"You little bitch." you almost growl at the porcelain doll before standing up abruptly and grabbing a fistful of her hair.

"That's it, you're getting punished!" you seethe, walking back into the house as you carry her by her hair all the way down to the basement.

"You're gonna think long and hard about your behavior. And after you do, you will apologize to Felix. Like it or not he is family now." you say before laying the doll in a box and locking it.

"I know you're claustrophobic. So this will be a nice lesson for you never to misbehave again." you smirk before making your way back upstairs.

You quickly run to Felix, gasping when you notice a single tear running down his cheek.

"I'm sorry, angel." you wipe it away quickly, kissing his cheek after.

"Let's see the damage." you undo his shirt and sure enough there is a bruise forming on his side.

"For this, Jenevieve will get a week in the dungeon." you say angrily, your fingertips brushing against the bruise. "I'll take care of you, sweet Lixie. I promise that'll never happen again."

-

The same evening, you brought Felix to your bed, stripping him out of the shirt so you could take care of his bruise.

You flip through the manual seeing the warning about not bruising the doll and anxiety washes over you, hoping he wasn't now damaged in some irreparable way.

You rummage through your bathroom cabinet, finding a cream that was used for bruises, skipping back to Felix.

"Well, you're warm, you can blush, bruise and cry. And... cum." you giggle quietly. "So I guess this would help you?" you purse your lips before taking some cream out and gently applying it on his bruise.

"There-" you pause, seeing a bulge growing in his pants. "Really? You're so sensitive." you tsked, your hands on his thighs, gripping the flesh shortly.

You look at Felix's face and melt.

He's blushing again, his cheeks rosy followed by the tips of his ears becoming red.

"You're such a cutie." you coo at him. "But you're gonna have to wait a bit. I have to take off your make up and brush your hair. I want you to be all comfy in bed." you nod to yourself, getting up to retrieve makeup wipes and a brush.

You start gently removing his makeup, leaving little kisses on his cheeks and nose, pressing your lips into his plush ones.

After cleaning him up, you take the brush and sit him up more comfortably so you can start brushing his hair.

"Oh you really like this." your eyes widen as you notice him twitching in his pants. "Like your hair played with, my pretty angel?" you twirl a strand of his soft hair between your fingers.

"Give me three minutes." you hurry to your bathroom to get ready for bed before skipping back to Felix excitedly.

"I'm here sweetie." you grab his face and crash your lips against his.

The way he was made, his lips seemed to be kissing back, so soft and sweet against yours.

You kissed him for some time, already addicted to his taste before you started leaving kisses on his jaw, all the way to his ear.

He only seemed to become even more red, the color seeping onto his neck and chest.

"My shy Lixie." you giggle, leaving kisses on the column of his neck.

He feels so soft and smells so sweet, making you want to do this forever, just kiss him everywhere as he lays and takes it.

You liked being in control, it made you feel powerful as your hands roamed all over his body, his skin so soft like a baby's, you couldn't stop touching him.

Your lips covered every inch of Felix as you kissed his chest, his arms, his stomach, his hands.

Taking your sweet time to worship him.

You slid his pants off, getting up to put them on the chair where you've already left the shirt.

Felix was blushing profusely and he was very warm as you touched him, his cock throbbing, the tip red and angry, glistening with his wetness.

"You're working yourself up, dolly. You need to calm down a little or I won't give you what you want." you smirk, sliding your hands on his supple thighs, up to his balls where you lightly grazed them with your fingertips.

His cock twitched in protest, his face even redder now.

"If you act naughty, I'll leave you like this all night. Don't test me, my little prince."

Felix's lips seemed pouty at that and you waited a little, only gently caressing his smooth arms, the redness of his face and body subsiding slowly until only his cheeks were rosy like before.

"Good boy." his cock leaked and twitched at the praise.

"Ah, my dolly likes to be praised?" you giggled delightfully, smoothing out his hair.

"I'll keep that in my mind." you winked at him, fingertips grazing against his length before you finally wrapped your hand around him.

"Good boys get rewards." you coo at him, thumbing at his wet slit.

Felix's ears become red again.

"I'll take care of you, sweetie. Don't worry." you whisper as you lean down, leaving kisses all over his skin as you start moving your hand.

You play with him for as long as you want to, torturing his cock as you alternate between fast and slow movements, at times using only one hand and then both or fondling his balls, your lips never leaving his heated skin.

You explore him with your tongue, swirling it around his nipples and noticing how he got even more wet because of it.

"So sensitive. Cute." you kiss his lips, your hand tangling in his hair.

"You wanna cum, dolly? Ah, I wish I could hear you beg, I bet you'd sound so sweet all desperate for me." you coo at Felix, gripping his hair and pulling it back as you jerk him off faster.

He explodes all over your hand and himself, making you gasp from the amount that spurted out, curiosity taking you over as you scoop some of it on your finger, licking it up.

"Mm. Are you strawberry flavored?" you chuckle, swirling your finger in his cum to lick at it again.

"Maybe cotton candy?" you giggle again before kissing him sweetly.

You clean Felix up and cozy up to him, curling your body around his as you wrap your arms around him.

You hope that from that day on, everything goes smoothly; without any more incidents.

The following week passed by just as you expected, with no incidents, the dolls now on their best behavior after they've witnessed Jenevieve being dragged down to the basement.

Felix became an obsession of sorts, you just couldn't keep your hands off of him.

You've never owned a doll like him, and to say that you're infatuated is an understatement.

Constantly kissing him and touching him made you equally as aroused as it did him.

You wanted him in every way, but you didn't want to use all his capabilities on your own, instead you wished he'd snap out of it and do it by himself, participate and react to your touches more than just heating up, blushing or twitching.

You felt sad every day you had to leave for work, leaving Felix alone with the other dolls.

You warned them not to try anything or you'd burn them to a crisp.

But as you finally let Jenevieve out, hoping she had learned her lesson, you had no idea how it would actually make all hell break loose.

"Now, Jenevieve I hope you're sorry for what you've done and that you understand why it was wrong. This can never happen again, okay?" you told her before putting her back in her place.

You sat Felix on your bed, caressing him and kissing him for some time.

"Be a good boy, Lixie." you kiss his forehead.

"And all of you too. Behave or else." you give Felix one last kiss before leaving the house.

It was obvious that some of your dolls felt neglected.

This was their home and in their eyes Felix was an intruder they had to get rid of.

He was taking up all your time, soaking up all your attention, getting all your love.

There were dolls that didn't agree, they liked Felix and thought he was sweet just like you did.

Some were just scared to share their opinion, afraid of being locked in the basement, smashed to pieces or burned into ashes.

The neglected dolls had come up with a plan.

They were going to destroy Felix so by the time you come home, there is nothing left to salvage.

-

"I'm home!" you announced cheerfully as you entered your house, a bag of groceries secured in your arm.

Whistling, you made your way to the living room but stopped dead in your tracks when you saw a few drops of red liquid on the floor, something that looked like blood.

You stood in shock for a moment before dropping the bag of groceries on the floor, as they made a loud thud sound, the apples you bought rolling around your living room.

With a gasp, you started running up the stairs, all of them painted in little red dots, anxiety building up with each step you took.

When you reached your bedroom, a shriek escaped your lips, echoing off of the walls.

Felix was thrown on the floor, his body and face bruised and cut up, the outfit you dressed him in torn into pieces.

What was most concerning was the blood dripping out of his wounds.

Your heart started beating fast in fear.

Noticing Jenevieve standing in the corner together with some of your other dolls made your blood boil, your body starting to shake with rage as your eyes blurred with tears.

With a loud growl as rage took you over completely, you ran downstairs to grab your sledgehammer.

"I told you. I told you to behave!" you screamed at the culprits, lifting up your weapon and smashing the first doll that was nearest to you.

"How could you do this?" you cried, continuing to pound your sledgehammer on the dolls, damaging your wall and furniture in the process.

Jenevieve was last and you smirked at her.

"Goodbye, bitch." you said before smashing her into pieces, the sound of porcelain breaking was so satisfying in your ears.

"Do any of you have anything to add?" you looked at the other dolls coldly, the ones that didn't dare move from their designated place.

"Didn't think so." you added, fresh tears sliding down your cheeks as your eyes caught sight of Felix again.

"Shit!" you exclaimed, falling down to your knees and grabbing his face gently.

He was crying.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry I left you alone with them Lixie! I will make this right, I promise!" you cried as you held onto him.

You ran to your bathroom to grab a first aid kit, running back to Felix as fast as you could.

You tended to his wounds, tears falling down your face onto his cheeks and mixing with his own.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." you kept whispering as you took care of him, worry growing inside you when Felix became colder to the touch.

"I think this one needs stitches." you noticed a gash on his hand. "How did they do this? I'll never let anyone hurt you again, Felix."

That night, you brought Felix to your workshop, sewing up his wound and hoping that he would heal just like the bruise from his first day here was healing.

You didn't want to look at your dolls, opting to take Felix to the guest room, the only empty room in the house, getting him all comfy in your fluffiest blankets before you joined him under the covers.

"I love you a lot Lixie. Even though it's only been a week. You're my favorite doll ever." you kissed his cheek before cuddling him, holding him close to your body as you felt him warm up.

A smile spread on your face.

He's going to be okay.

Over the next few weeks, Felix's wounds have healed nicely.

You've asked to work from home so you could be with him all day.

It was quiet in your house, all of the other dolls were now even more afraid of you, after your little sledgehammer revenge.

You cuddled Felix a lot, holding him close whenever you could, playing with his soft hair and doting on him the entire time.

His face seemed to change throughout that time, from an expression of sadness and pain back to happiness and his rosy cheeks.

Once he was fully healed, you decided to bake a chocolate cake to celebrate his recovery.

Of course, he was in the kitchen with you, watching you work on the sweet treat.

You had more than one sweet treat in mind, you thought, giggling to yourself as you swiped some chocolate cream on your finger.

"Mm. So tasty." you smirked, looking directly at Felix.

"You wanna taste?" you took some more, coming closer to him and pressing your finger on his lips.

"Come on, I know you want it." you smirked. "I'll let you taste something even sweeter later."

He didn't react in the way you wanted him to, but his face was quickly becoming red.

Sighing, you leaned back and continued making the cake.

Once it was finished, you decided to let it cool down and take Felix to your living room.

"Look at that. I didn't even touch you." you giggled, the bulge in his pants evident.

He was finally all well and healed so you let yourself explore his body with your hands and lips.

It didn't take long for you to strip him, your eyes glued to his pretty cock, all hard for you.

"You make me wanna do things I usually don't." you sighed, gently stroking him.

"But you've been so good for me, so I gotta reward you." you laid Felix down, kneeling between his legs.

You kissed his thighs, lightly biting into his skin and noticing how he twitched at that.

You wanted to taste him and have him in your mouth which is something you were usually uncomfortable with but Felix made you want to do all those things you thought you never would.

"My good boy." you praise him, your lips pressing gentle kisses into his leaking cock.

Felix's body flushed as you kept kissing and licking at him, your hands sliding slowly on his soft skin, mapping him out.

You kissed his tip, tasting his pre-cum, sweet like cotton candy and you couldn't wait anymore as you wrapped your lips around him.

Your tongue tingled from the sweet taste as you swirled it around his head, a moan escaping your lips and making him leak even more.

Felix's fingers twitched on his side and your eyes widened a little as you took more of him in.

Hoping he would move again, you started bobbing your head faster, taking him in deeper, moaning around him and creating vibrations around his throbbing cock.

His fingers twitched a few more times, every time his tip hit the back of your throat it seemed to make him move.

Determined to snap him out of whatever trance he was in you gave it your all, drooling around his length as you sucked him harder, your hand squeezing his sensitive balls.

Taking you by surprise, Felix came, filling your mouth up with his cum and making you sputter as you didn't expect it.

You managed to swallow some, the rest making a mess out of his crotch.

You knew he was supposed to cum only after you pull on his hair so how did this happen?

Now, you had an even bigger inkling that Felix was alive.

A smirk spread on your lips as you stared at his reddened face.

"D'you want a taste, angel?" you giggled, your hand between your legs.

"Yeah, you do." you added, gathering some of your juices before bringing them up to his lips.

You pushed your finger in his mouth, making him taste you.

"I know you like that, my pretty prince."

You gave him a few kisses before cleaning him up.

"We can eat some cake tomorrow." you told him as you laid him down in your bed, the guest room now becoming your room.

As you cuddled up to Felix that night, you had no idea that he would finally wake up while you slept.

-

Felix's eyes widened as he fought for breath, his heart beating hard against his chest.

He gripped at the sheets, fisting them in pain as his whole body hurt.

You were sleeping peacefully on your side, facing him and for some reason he was terrified.

Felix saw what you did when you got angry so he didn't want to upset you in any way even though you treated him well, so well that he knew he loved you as much as you loved him.

But with confusion and fear running through his veins, he decided not to wake you up, instead he got up quietly in search of food and water.

He knew that if he took something from the fridge, you'd know he was awake so Felix made his way to your pantry, his feet padding on the floor quietly.

On his way there, his knee collided into a chair and he cursed quietly, his eyes widening as he looked back to the direction of your room.

Felix gulped, listening for some time and after deciding it was safe he entered the pantry.

He found some cookies and in his hunger he devoured most of them, accidentally leaving the wrapper and the crumbs behind.

After drinking some water, Felix returned to bed, deciding to let you sleep and maybe tell you that he's alive tomorrow.

-

Waking up the next day, you started the morning like any other, kissing Felix's sweet face.

But, something was different this morning.

His eyes were closed.

"Hm." you looked at him and he seemed to be breathing but it was so early in the morning that you thought you had dreamed it up.

Suddenly, your phone rang, scaring you out of your thoughts.

"Hi, Jackie!" it was your childhood best friend, the only person who tolerated your obsession with dolls.

She didn't mind it much and she loved you for who you were, the two of you grew up together, going through all the ups and downs with each other.

"Hey, y/n! I'm in town this weekend so I thought we could catch up." she said cheerfully.

"Of course, I'd love to!" you sat up, momentarily forgetting about Felix as you made your way to the kitchen with a smile on your face.

"Great, I can't wait to share all the tea I have." she said and you giggled before noticing something weird.

There was a glass you didn't touch on the counter, and your pantry door was open so you walked towards it as Jackie yapped in your ear.

As you turned the light on, you noticed half eaten cookies on the floor, the wrapper pulled apart seemingly with teeth.

"What? Do I have rats in my house?" you chuckled.

"I'm not a rat." a deep voice said behind you and you shrieked, turning around, your phone almost slipping out of your hand.

"Y/n? What's wrong?" Jackie asked.

"I'm gonna have to call you back." you said as you hung up, staring at Felix as he stood before you with his eyes wide, a timid look on his face, his cheeks rosy and lips pouty.

His hands were clasped together as he played with his fingers.

"F-Felix?" your eyes welled up with happy tears.

"It's me." he said, the depth of his voice shocking you once again, you didn't expect your sweet angel would have such deep vocal chords.

"Oh!" you laughed in delight, throwing your arms around him and hugging him tightly.

Felix gasped at your onslaught of love as you squeezed him so tight that you knocked his breath out of his lungs.

"I knew you'd come to me eventually, my angel." you gently took his face in your hands, your thumbs moving back and forth on his cheeks slowly.

"Y-you're not mad at me?" he asks cutely, blinking at you.

"No, no, not at all! Though, you left a mess." you shake your head and his face becomes redder.

"I'm sorry, I will clean it up." he says timidly and you giggle.

"Oh, you are so adorable!" cuteness aggression takes you over completely as you pinch his cheeks and kiss his plump lips repeatedly, making him giggle.

His stomach growled and he looked at you embarassingly, his face red and you chuckled.

"You need a proper meal." you said, deciding to make the classic eggs and bacon combo.

You took his hands and led him to the chair, sitting him down.

"Let me help you." Felix beamed at you.

"It's okay, Lixie. I like taking care of you."

"I know, but I want to do the same for you."

You melted instantly, kissing him again, it was hard to be apart from him.

The two of you made breakfast together, albeit clumsily as he was still confused about everything.

After eating, the two of you sat in the garden, you with your cup of coffee and Felix with his cup of hot cocoa, two slices of the chocolate cake you made last night served on the fine china.

"What made you wake up?" you asked.

"I- I'm not sure. I tried doing it before, I only managed to move my fingers or toes slightly, sometimes my eyes. It was honestly like I was imprisoned in my own body. I wanted to- to reciprocate, hold you properly and take care of you like you do to me." he said, looking away as he blushed once more.

"Ah, you are so sweet my prince. Just how I imagined. I knew you were alive, I was just hoping and waiting for you to break out of the hypnotized state."

"You think I was hypnotized?" Felix tilts his head at you.

"Do you remember anything before coming here?" you ask, reaching out to touch his hand gently.

"I remember this big cold room. And water. So much water. And there were others but I can't remember their faces. We were all there in the big room. There was a voice talking to us, I- I don't know what it said. But I think it was giving out commands." the more Felix talked about his past, the more worked up he was getting, his hands shaking, a thin sheen of sweat covering his forehead.

"Hey, hey it's okay. You don't have to tell me everything right away. It must be upsetting." you quickly stand up, holding his face and caressing him.

"I don't wanna go back there."

"You won't." you smile, sitting in his lap.

Felix freezes, his eyes wide and lips falling open, his face taking on the familiar rosy color.

"Y/n." he looks up at you cutely and you lean in, kissing him lovingly.

"You're no longer just my dolly. You're my boyfriend now." you giggle and he smiles the most beautiful bright smile you have ever seen.

"Oh! I am?"

"Mhm." you nod and lean in to kiss him again, your tongue licking at his bottom lip and he opens his mouth, letting you explore him properly now that he's awake, your hand tangled in his soft hair.

"I love you, Lixie." you kiss the tip of his nose.

"I love you y/n. Thank you for everything. For being so good to me and helping me heal when those dolls..." he shivers.

"Of course. Sorry if I went a little crazy. I know I can be insane sometimes. It's just when I saw you like that on the floor, I felt my heart break. I needed to smash them into pieces so they can never hurt you again."

"No, I'm glad you did that. If I could, I'd fight back."

"I know you would." you smile, shifting on his lap as you caress his face.

Scooting closer to him, you feel him press into you.

"I'm sorry." Felix whimpers, looking everywhere but at you. "I know you don't want to... you know."

"I do. Now that you're awake." you nod and his eyes widen.

"Oh?"

"Let's go inside." you giggle at his shocked expression.

"W-what do I do?" Felix looks at you unsurely as you sit on your bed. "Usually you're in charge..."

"You can take the lead, angel. Whatever you had in mind all this time, you can do now." you smile at him, taking his hands in yours to reassure him.

"I wanna worship you like you do to me." he blushes profusely and you chuckle.

"Of course." you say, the two of you starting with loving kisses, layers of clothing slowly coming off.

Felix lays you down gently, looking panicked for a moment, like he doesn't know what to start with, and as his eyes travel all over your body, the redness on his face spreads to his ears and neck.

Ultimately, he decides to do what you did, leaning down to kiss your neck first.

You throw your head back, giving him space as his plump lips gently travel on your skin.

You close your eyes as Felix's worships you, his lips so sweet on your hot skin, his hands caressing you gently as he slides them on your arms, then to your waist and tummy before slowly going up to cup your breasts.

"L-Lixie." you whimper as he plays with your nipples before leaning in to kiss them, his tongue darting out to swirl around the sensitive bud before his pretty lips wrap around it, sucking gently.

"Ah!" you moan, arching into him, arousal dripping from your core.

Felix whimpers when his finger touches your warmness, feeling how wet you got just for him.

He finds your clit, gently rubbing it in circles with his fingertips as he continues sucking on your breasts.

"Want you." you whine and he lifts up.

"C-can I taste you?" he asks, licking his lips and you nod eagerly.

Felix leaves kisses on your tummy all the way down to your core where he presses his lips against your clit.

"Mm, angel." you moan, making him moan too.

His tongue darts out as he starts licking at you and your eyes roll back.

He groans into your core, already addicted to your taste as he spreads you with his thumbs, pushing his tongue in eagerly, as deep as he can.

Your legs tremble a little, your hand ending up in his hair as you hold him down.

Felix keeps grunting into you, his deep voice sending vibrations through you as he laps you up, his button nose pressing perfectly against your clit.

Being sensitive, you can't hold it in too long as you explode, your juices spilling on his lips and chin.

"You taste so sweet." he looks up at you, licking at his lips.

"Come here, I need you." you make grabby hands at him and Felix giggles as he slides up, slotting himself perfectly between your thighs.

"Are you sure?" he asks and you nod.

"Please."

"Anything you want, darling." Felix whispers.

You feel his tip caress your folds and you whine, wrapping your legs around him as he sinks in, slowly opening you up just for him.

You embrace each other, your bodies moving together as Felix makes love to you until you're crying and trembling in his hold, your nails digging into his back as he finally releases his warm cum inside you, filling you up to the brim.

That night, Felix got to embrace you just how he always wanted.

The next few days pass by in perfect bliss.

You and Felix are attached at the hip, always together, always in each other's arms, lips constantly touching.

You took him out on so many dates and he loved being outside, seeing other people enjoying their day too, feeling the warm sunlight on his face, the gentle breeze caressing his hair.

You'd never been this happy before, never having someone who had seen you at your worst and still loved you for who you are.

Felix also loved helping you around the house, giving you massages and doing everything he can to make you feel comfortable.

He even told you of the dolls who were always nice to him so you'd take them out in the garden to hang out with you and Felix on a nice picnic date.

Even your friend Jackie was happy for you, first asking you to explain how the hell did he go from a doll to a human.

"So, basically, you were alive the whole time?" she scratched her head, as the three of you sat in your garden.

"I guess I was."

"So, do you remember how you were made? Like, are you human or?" Jackie asks, her eyes widened in wonder.

"I honestly have no idea. As I told y/n, I only remember that there was a room and that I was suspended in water."

"It's all so peculiar." you shake your head. "But it doesn't matter. What matters now is that Felix is alive and he is safe here." you kiss his cheek and he blushes instantly.

"If you're happy y/n, I'm happy too." Jackie smiles at you.

"Thanks, J." you giggle.

The rest of the afternoon Jackie fills you in with all the drama that happened in her life since you last saw each other, both you and Felix entertained after getting a scoop.

That night, Felix falls asleep quickly and you stay up just for some time, caressing his face and admiring his beauty.

"Good night, my sweet Lixie." you kiss his forehead before nuzzling into him and falling asleep.

Felix's night is filled with nightmares, after opening the topic of his past with Jackie today, memories started flooding in his mind.

People in white suits, their faces unrecognizable. A huge ceiling with big silver pipes. Water tanks with bodies floating inside them all in fetal position. Connected to a machine with a steady beeping sound echoing off of the walls.

The feeling of dread creeping up his spine.

Felix woke up with a loud gasp, covered in sweat, his heart almost leaping out of his chest.

"Lixie? What's wrong?" you sit up quickly as he jostled you awake.

"I- I had a nightmare." his lips tremble, tears sliding down his cheeks.

"It's okay, it was just a dream." you embrace him as he nuzzles into your neck.

You caress him until he calms down.

"It was about that place, wasn't it?"

He nods at your question and you sigh.

"How about we eat some ice cream?" you try to cheer him up and Felix nods quickly, a small smile already appearing on his face.

The two of you are in the kitchen when a loud banging on the door scares you both.

Both of you exchange a fearful look.

The banging starts again.

"Don't." Felix shakes his head, his hands trembling.

"It's okay." you reassure him, making your way to the door.

When you open them, you see five men in suits standing on your doorway, all their faces devoid of any emotion.

"Are you y/n l/n?" one of them speaks in a monotone voice.

"Yes, I am."

"So you've purchased Felix, the comforting doll?"

"I did. What is this about?" you ask confusedly.

"We are here to take him. There's been a malfunction and we need the dolls back at our company."

You scoff at them.

"No." you cross your arms.

"Miss, it's in your best interest to cooperate with us."

"Who the fuck do you think you are to know what's in my best interest?" you frown as two of the men exchange unimpressed looks.

You groan and in an attempt to shoo them away, you lift your leg up and kick one of the men right in his shin.

He doesn't even budge, doesn't make an expression or a sound that would indicate he was even hit.

"Get her out of the way." the man in the very back says and two of them grab your arms as you start screaming and kicking.

Three of the other men walk inside just as Felix runs up to the corridor, hearing your screams.

"Y/n!" he yells out, as the men grab him.

"Felix!" you kick around, tears sliding down your cheeks as you try to tear away from the men but to no avail.

"Let him go! He's alive! I love him!"

"Please don't take me away from her!"

Both of you scream but nobody listens to you.

One of the men takes a big needle out of his suitcase and before you can react he pushes it into Felix's neck, injecting him with some kind of liquid.

You scream as his body goes limp and they lift him up, walking out of your house.

"You'll get your money back, don't worry." the last man says and you scream at him, your tears flowing like a wild river.

"I don't want it! I want my Felix!" you cry, running after them but they've already pushed him into the backseat.

One of the men holds you back as they all pile in the car, leaving quickly as you fall down to your knees and cry.

Your heart hurts for breaking your promise of keeping Felix safe.

Your mind races with a thousand thoughts.

What are you going to do now?

Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @starlost-mochi-x @saintcosette @juskz @quokkacidal @chuuyaobsessed @whatdoyouwanttocallmefor @lixies-favorite-cookie @thelostprincessofasgard @linocvp1d

[sttoru]

your boyfriend cannot stop himself from kissing you all over. kissing you is his favorite thing to do - no matter when or where.

☀︎｜tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. suggestive, mild (to somewhat) nsfw, fluff. lots of kissing. lots and lots of kissing and loving. he fondles and gropes you everywhere basically. clingy satoru. tiny bit size difference (yes ok im a slut, what about it). body worship kinda. readers gets called ‘sweet / pretty girl, baby, princess’. beta read? what’s that.

you fell for it again; satoru told you it was only going to be a quick peck on the lips. ‘i promise, baby, c'moooon’ — you recall him begging in that whiny voice of his. that's all what was needed to make you putty in his hands.

“fine, but only one kiss, okay?” you gave in and walked over to satoru, climbed onto your shared bed and leaned in for a swift kiss—only for his strong arms to cage you in and never let go. it had been ten minutes since; the apartment was silent, except for the lewd sounds of your shared kisses and heavy breaths.

satoru’s soft hands are wandering everywhere. from cupping your cheeks to rubbing your sides and gripping your ass. the clock was ticking loudly, but the sound of it was drowned out by your moans. and satoru’s low, needy whimpers.

the appointment you were getting ready for had long slipped your mind.

“mh, you’re such a good kisser, baby,” the white-haired man sighs. he absolutely loves the way you follow the movements of his glossy lips—your head tilting to the side and back—automatically accomodating to satoru’s motions. he was kissing you with an urgent need. one you had never known or witnessed before, “more, ngh, need more of you, please.”

satoru was not letting up. you couldn’t blame him; it was easy to get lost in this warm and cherished moment of peace. his sweet kisses switched intensity—going from innocent kisses to sloppy ones, resulting in your chin dripping with a mixture of saliva.

you whine and straddle satoru’s lap which earns you a happy hum from your lover. that was his plan all along: to completely distract you from the fact that you had to leave the house. that you had to leave his side. others would call it annoyingly clingy, but satoru absolutely needs your lips on his.

he is sure that he would go insane if he spent a whole day without kissing you. an hour is already too long, if he is honest.

satoru would love to kiss you until the end of time. until death comes knocking onto his door. the last thing he desires to feel is your plump lips and wet tongue wrapped around his. a peaceful, warm death. one with no regrets.

“mhmmm, fuck, you taste so sweet.” satoru's eyebrow furrow in delight. he is nearly overstimulated by the taste of you. the way your small body clings onto him, your hands holding onto his jaw and sliding down his chest, your sounds of pleasure that only he could ever have the honour of hearing.

it was perfect. all of you was perfect.

your parted lips make way for his tongue again. satoru slips his tongue inside your mouth. it was tender, yet demanding. your throat tightens up and a choked moan fills his ears. his cold fingers make contact with the warm skin of your midriff. they were aiming at one place; your chest.

the one satoru loves to fondle no matter when or where. the same one he loves to use as a pillow every night.

“nnh, ‘toru, need’to breathe,” you are running out of air. the short gasps you took between the heated kisses were not enough to fill your lungs. but, it was addicting. the shortness of breath the two of you experienced only served as more proof of your love.

neither of you want to pull away—to pause the make out session for even what could be a split second.

the older man below you is hesistant. he does not want to let go of you. it's like you’re asking him to break up—that’s how much it hurts him to stop kissing you.

however, he felt a bit light-headed from the lack of oxygen as well. satoru pulls away, but not without sweeping his tongue over your bottom lip, lapping up the drool that dripped down the corners of your mouth.

his eyes are half-lidded and glazed over with both love and lust. you stabilise yourself by holding onto his broad shoulders and satoru rubs your back to help calm you down further. a ghost of a grin tugs at his lips. he surely is enjoying your adorable, exhausted demeanour. your chest was heaving up and down—his fingers sneaking to your front and wrapping around a breast to feel its tenderness.

“pretty,” satoru sighs. he takes the chance once your lips part to take a deep breath. his tongue quickly slips in, invading your mouth and exploring every inch before separating the two of you again. he can not go a minute without kissing you. you sure are like a drug to him, “thank you, princess.”

you are surprised by the sudden tongue kiss, but brush it off with a chuckle. you know how satoru is; not able to keep away from you in heated moments like these. his large hands fondling, groping and squeezing every area of your body only proves that point.

“thank you for what?” you ask, planting a soft peck on his lips. your boyfriend responds by holding the back of your head. he leans in for another kiss like a man depraved of any affection. you shudder and hold onto him like he there is no tomorrow. he does the same back, squeezing you against his chest.

satoru slightly tilts his head back to answer your question. his breath was hot on your mouth, a faint string of saliva hanging between your bottom lips. he can not hold the urge. he can not answer. his lips are already colliding with yours once more.

over and over. until the two of you were out of breath and needed a break again.

“thank you for being with me,” satoru answers in a quiet whisper. the pad of his thumb brushes back and forth against the waistband of the shorts you are wearing. there is an urge to pull them down and reveal those pretty little panties you are wearing, but his current priority is to feel your mouth on his.

until he gets enough. which is never. never in a million years.

“thank you for everything, honestly,” satoru continues and leaves a couple wet kisses down your neck. his hands do not leave your perfect body. he’s admiring every curve - every body part that had yet to be touched, “could have never believed that i’d end up with such a pretty girl. but, here i am, with the prettiest girl in the world in my arms.”

satoru had a way with words. one that left you flustered like crazy each time. he looks at you and that’s when you know that he means every word. his eyes were shining, even when half-lidded. the admiration in them more than just visible.

he looks at your face and body like he’s witnessing the world's greatest treasure. and that you surely are.

“stop saying that.” you giggle embarrassedly. you cover your mouth to hide your smile, though satoru is quick to grab your wrist and pull your hand away. he keeps holding onto your arm to prevent you from hiding your face from his sight. and to stop you from hiding your lips from his, of course.

the older man clicks his tongue, scolding you jokingly for trying to hide that precious smile from him. he kisses the corners of your lips, touch lingering against your hot skin, “how am i supposed to admire my pretty girl if she keeps hiding herself, hm?”

you squirm due to satoru’s flirty words. his gentle tone of voice is making you feel those tingles in your lower abdomen. there has not been a single moment in your relationship where your lover made you feel unwanted. it’s been the complete opposite every day.

“someone’s getting a bit squirmy, aye?” your boyfriend teases. he knows that the combination of his words, looks and actions make you weak in the knees. you always react like it’s your first time kissing and that is both endearing and amusing to him.

you can’t control your bodily reactions either. the sight of satoru beneath you is simply too much. his fluffy hair that sits messily due to your fingers that tugged and played around with the strands, his black top riding up to reveal a glimpse of his defined abs and happy trail. . . the faint blush on satoru’s cheeks and the needy look in his eyes.

you surely can’t leave him alone while he looks like that.

“shut up and kiss me already.” you respond with a huff. and so, satoru does. wasting not a single second. kissing you is his job—his passion. the only thing he ever craves for.

the room once again fills with noises of pure contentment, enjoyment and pleasure. it’s just you two in that moment—no one else mattered.

as long as your lips stay attached to each other, no one actually does.