#i thought if i got high enough i would be able to forget for at least as long as it took me to fall asleep

[fuckit-ventblog]

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[thewidowsledger]

Mistake

© thewidowsledger 2025 - DO NOT REPUBLISH AND PLAGIARISE

Pairings: Professor!Natasha Romanoff x College Student!Female Reader

Word count: 4.2k

Tags | Warnings: +18 smut, ANGST, vile, mean, obsessive, hurt and dark Natasha, Natasha has a penis, top!Natasha, bottom!reader, hate fuck, crying but def not dacryphilia, kind of dubcon, noncon breeding

Author's Note: This is by far the darkest fic that was requested to me…I might be overreacting but I just a baby. I don't know how Latin honors works from others so I just referenced it to mine. Plot is kind of inspired with the song Teacher's Pet but it's the other way around. Request

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⧗

"What happened to us?" She asked again. The question hung in the air, demanding an answer that you know yourself wouldn't be willing to give.

Because you just want to forget it, forget it all—forget her.

⧗

"Isn't Y/N your rival since like 8th grade? You always hated the girl man! How come you're confessing your feelings to her on our graduation day?!" Rhodey groaned while rubbing his entire face as he talked to his best friend who just told his deep shocking secret.

"That's when I started loving her too." Tony simply replied.

You and Tony were actually schoolmates since grade school. And you have always been a top performing student ever since, while Tony only got to show his skills and intelligence not until high school—late bloomer as they say.

Who would imagine that the shy weird kid back in grade school would turn into a big massive fuckboy slash science freak in high school until college?

"So what's the plan, man?" Rhodey can only ask. He and Tony have been side by side since forever so there is no way he will not support him in getting to you. "Tony, as much as I want to support you in this…thing. You know your reputation. First, you are Y/N's acads rival, as long as there are numbers and letters and numbers and letters mixed together you are enemies and everybody knows that. Second, you have a reputation of sleeping with so many women. You know you didn't have your name cleared about the sleep night with the entire cheerleading team two years ago, in fact you didn't want your name cleared because you liked having that reputation."

"That was two years ago, I'm different now, at least I am trying too."

"I can't believe this. But honestly, I'd hit that." Rhodey smirked, showing your beach photo wearing a maxi skirt, a crochet top and the black glasses you always wore.

"Okay, enough of that! That's…that girl is mine, man. Please bro code." He snatched his friends' phone away from him and turned it off. Tony doesn't need to look at your photos anymore since he had memorized each photo of yours because he had been checking on your Instagram for at least twice a day.

"I was just joking! Of course I wouldn't." Rhodey chased his phone and was able to get it before Tony put it in his pocket. "So what's the plan? How will you…you know?" He shrugged while looking intently at his friend.

"Don't worry, I'm never running out of plans and pick up lines." He let out a laugh while also flexing his biceps

"Hey, hey! Friendly advice man? Just cut with your bad pick up lines and be a man. You just told me she's the girl you want to marry and she looks like the type who wouldn't fall for jokes or pick up lines. This isn't any rom coms, if you want her to fall in love with you, compliment and admire her mind—her intelligence."

"O…kay…where did that come from? That was a good one, Rhodey. I never thought I would hear that from you." Tony tried not to laugh his ass off, but the words of wisdom his friend just told him was something he needed.

Rhodey just shrugged, a genuine smile on his face showing as he looked at his friend. "I've always had it in me, Tony. It's just you never asked for some advice. Besides, you're different and so am I. And now, seeing you genuinely in love with this girl? I just know you need some unsolicited advice from mister lover boy right here."

"Hey, I'm a mister lover boy too." Tony pouted.

"You can be. But first, we have 8 minutes to get to Mr. Coulson's class."

The two sprinted out of the cafeteria, not even noticing Professor Romanoff sitting in the corner, her nails grazing hard against her own coffee mug.

⧗

"You're not gonna run for Latin?" You asked Tony, you were frustrated, you expected him to be your rival up until the end but when you knew you were the only one who filed for latin honors in your class, you were infuriated. You should be thankful, really, because you have no more competition but…

"I had 2.75 in molecular dynamics in 3rd year, if you didn't know. So basically, I'm not eligible to run for latin since then." You huffed at his reply, you don't know if it's out of disbelief or relief because he had that grade that made him not qualified for latin anymore.

"Did you purposely fail that class?" You asked him suspiciously. "Because I don't want to have this honor if you just basically gave it away. Like what you did in our elemag quiz bee during 10th grade, you said I only won because you basically let me, because you were just forced to join."

Tony pinched his nose, trying to hold a giggle. You are so cute, he thought to himself. Always so competitive and he loved every bit of it.

"I sucked at the subject, I promise, princess." He replied sincerely, not teasingly and provoking like he always was when he talks to you. Like when he tells you to calm yourself down before you internalize everything you had reviewed for a quiz bee, because it's just him you're gonna have to contend in some stupid quizzes.

You hated the man, but he's like a part of your system. You wouldn't function without him infuriating you—without him always competing with you.

"So…congratulations, summa cum laude." You were shocked at his words and genuineness but you didn't let him notice. For once, he didn't annoy you—for once—he's not your rival.

Before Tony could hand you the bouquet of tulips he was holding, a student suddenly rushed up to you.

"Hey, Y/N," the student said, her cheeks blushing as her eyes darted between you and Tony. "Professor Romanoff is asking for you in her office."

Hiding the tulips behind his back, Tony feigned nonchalance while you fought back your irritation. You couldn't believe it—even after all this time, he still had an effect on the women in your school. Unknown to you, the student had glimpsed the flowers he was secretly holding in his hands where she thought were for you.

"R-right now?" You stammered and the student nodded before bidding goodbye to the both of you.

"Are you alright?" Tony asked, noticing you turned pale.

As Tony asked you if you were okay, you found yourself blurting out, "Can you come with me?" You immediately regretted your words, silently cursing yourself for asking for help from the one person you loathed the most.

Despite the tension between the two of you, Tony agreed to accompany you to Professor Romanoff's office. As you walked, he fidgeted awkwardly, still holding the bouquet of flowers behind his back. Whenever you stole a glance in his direction, he'd turn away, so you wouldn't notice the bouquet peeking behind him.

The walk was filled with an uncomfortable silence, neither of you uttering a single word until you reached the professor's office.

Tony was about to reach for the door handle to Professor Romanoff's office, you quickly stopped him, passing him your bag. He shot you a questioning look, his eyes filled with concern as he asked, "Are you okay?"

You just gave him a small nod. He took your bag without protest and offered a reassuring nod in return.

"I'll wait for you here," he said, awkwardly holding your tote bag and wiggling his fingers as you go inside. His other arm was tired from having to hold the bouquet behind his back.

He could give it to you after, he thought.

⧗

You closed the door, but you deliberately left it unlocked. After a moment, Professor Romanoff emerged from the bathroom, her eyes scanning the room until they landed on you.

"Professor." You said, your head bowed in submission. Despite your fear and trepidation, you couldn't bring yourself to meet her gaze, keeping your eyes on your shoes as you struggled to maintain your composure.

She walked towards you, your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt a cold sweat breaking out on your forehead. Your lips trembled, and your shoulders tensed up as if preparing yourself for the worst. Your shoulders grazed onto each other as she locked the door behind you, trapping you inside with her.

"Is the pictorial done for graduation?" She asked, it came out soft but cold.

You took a deep breath, gathering what little ounce of courage you had left and managed to stammer out, "Yes."

Professor Romanoff's eyes traveled down your body, scrutinizing your outfit. You were wearing a skirt that teetered on the edge of being too short, paired with a fitted white top and a cardigan. You fidgeted under her intense scrutiny, feeling exposed and vulnerable under her stare.

"May I ask why I was being called, professor?" You asked, you bit your lip after for trembling too much.

"You're the only candidate for the Latin honors in our program. I talked to Professor Coulson and others in the faculty, and all of them said that your position is already secured for it not to drop below a 2," she stated. "Many professors are rooting for you to deliver your speech in 5 months."

And you? You desperately want to ask but you hold yourself back, keeping the question locked inside your mind. You wanted to speak less to her as much as possible, so you just nodded.

The room was filled with silence for several minutes, and you just stood there while she was still sitting in her office chair.

"I missed you."

Your heart literally dropped. The last time you had heard those words from her was two years ago, when you both had been caught up in a dirty secret affair.

"Didn't you miss me too? Detka? " You begged in your mind for her to not to call you those russian pet names again, well, it's one of your weaknesses still after so long.

You shook your head side to side in denial and screwed your eyes shut, as if trying to block out the words and the memories they stirred up. The mere thought of admitting to missing her was too much for you to handle—because you did, you missed her so much and you hated yourself for it. So every time your heart flutters when you see her along the hallways, you move to a different direction just to avoid her or if your mind starts to think about her, you immerse yourself in studying which most of the time failed to work.

You tried to be strong and you think you're doing good at it. You told yourself as long as you're not going to be alone with her again, you'd be fine.

And you are definitely not fine right now...

"After you came back from your immersion program, you didn't talk to me anymore..." Her voice was dark and tinged with hurt that had festered over the time you had spent away.

"What happened to us?" She asked again. The question hung in the air, demanding an answer that you know yourself wouldn't be willing to give.

Because you just want to forget it, forget it all—forget her.

Her words echoed in the air, a single tear slipped down your cheek, your breath growing more labored with each passing second. You couldn't bring yourself to answer her, your throat tight and your body trembling.

"Did you even lo—"

You didn't let her finish, you don't want her to ask you that question because you're afraid about the answer that you had kept hidden, locked in the deep, dark corner of your heart. "What I felt for you was…genuine."

What a nice way to put it.

"Genuine?" She huffed, she could take that one for now, Natasha thought. "If it's genuine then why am I a secret?"

"It was a mistake!" You rushed out before you could even blink. What would people think if they knew? That the top student in the university only got her achievements because she was basically a professor's cock sleeve?

"Nat—Professor…what…what happened before was a mistake. I told you that, right? And you know it too! We talked about it after I went to my immersion, that we'll stop. God, please, you know how wrong it was!" You cried desperately, it's not loud but it's enough for her to hear.

"Mistake?" she snapped and you can see the hurt in her eyes. "The bar, yes. That could be a mistake."

You cleared your throat awkwardly, memories of that night suddenly flooding your mind. The way the two of you danced, the way she laughed, how her lips tasted like whiskey...and then, the realization that hit you both when you're both sobered up. That was the night you slept with her, so much for being drunk you didn't realize it was your professor—the professor you had a crush on.

"What about here?" She pointed to her desk, where she had pounded you for dear life after class because you had joked to her that if you get a perfect quiz then you'll have a reward from her—and you did, she had made you cum twice for the recitation and quiz she had prepared for class, specifically for you. "And there?" You looked towards her sofa, where a lot of things happened between you two. You sucking her when she gets so frustrated during a meeting, riding her if she's too tired from paperworks—all the dirtiest kinks were done on that sofa. Even the softest ones where you both cuddled up after you didn't win the regional college quiz bowl or when you straddled her while teaching her how to tie a necktie.

"Motels, my car, my apartment, here again in my office during prom where you begged me to fuck your ass while wearing your prom queen crown." Her voice grew darker, matching the intense memories playing out in her mind. "Tell me baby, were those a mistake too? It would really hurt my feelings if you said yes."

You sobbed, shaking your head side by side, trying to dispel the memories and she can see the fear and denial in your eyes. You can just walk right now and end this torturous reminiscing. But you felt trapped in place, trapped in those memories, and she was too—she was trapped in the need to make you remember…

"Please, stop." You hiccup, trying to hold back a sob. You continue to shake your head over and over.

"You can't just go around, fuck me up and then say that's it's just a mistake afterwards." She spat, standing to walk towards you.

She loomed over you, her tall frame casting a shadow, making you feel small and vulnerable. She could see you shaking, hear your ragged breathing and it only fueled her frustration.

"Bent over my desk with that perfect little ass in the air, waiting..." She moved closer, her hand reaching out to trace your collarbone.

She watched you scramble to your feet, a dark satisfaction gleaming in her eyes as you approached her desk. She followed close behind, her heels clicking on the floor. When you reached the desk, she pressed a firm hand between your shoulder blades, bending you over it.

As she bent you over, you let out a soft moan, your face pressed against the cool surface of the desk. She could see your body relax, falling into the familiar position. Her hand slowly inched up your skirt, feeling the soft fabric bunch under her fingers. "You still remember, don't you?"

She stepped closer, pressing her length against your backside, feeling the thin barrier of her pants between you two. You found yourself grinding back against her feeling she was growing harder.

"Fuck you're still such a slut for my cock." She smirked as she gripped your waist. "Is it still a mistake? Huh? Slut? You grinding your slutty pussy back against my cock?"

You shook your head side by side, biting your lip to contain your moans.

"I need you to say it, slut." She spat.

"N-no, it's…it's not a mistake, professor." You said in a shaky tone.

Without warning, she reached down and unzipped her pants, pulling out her thick, hard cock. She wrapped her hand around it, stroking it slowly behind your back, the tip rubbing against your ass through your panties. "Fuck, I've missed this," she pressed the head of her cock against your ass, rubbing it against your panties. "Gonna fuck this tight little pussy again, just like old times."

She pushed aside your panties, revealing your vulnerable entrance, "Missed how perfectly you take me..." In one smooth motion, she thrust forward, burying herself deep inside you.

"N-nat!" Your back arched even further as you cried out a breath.

"I missed you calling me by my name." She said in a ragged breath, "I want you to shout it so Stark can hear it behind those doors." Her other hand reached around to grab your hair, tangling it in her fist as she pulled your head back, forcing you to arch your back further and to look at the door of her office where Tony was waiting. You didn't know how she knew Tony was waiting outside for you.

Your voice only seemed to spur her on. She began pounding into you, the rhythm steady and intense. She pulled out slightly, just the tip still inside you, before slamming back in with renewed ferocity. "You made me struggle, everyday, seeing you walk around in those fucking skimpy clothes...and letting anyone touch you, but not me." Each word was punctuated by a brutal thrust. "I didn't reach you because I respect you so much, love you so fucking much. And I know you will run back to me eventually…"

"But you didn't…fuck, you didn't come back to me. Am I…am I that easy? Y/N?" She asked with so much vulnerability and hate. "Do you know how hard it is to watch you go on for a day without me? When I couldn't?"

You felt some hot liquid dripping down onto your bare back, your clothes being bunched up…are those tears? You are too dumbed down to think but you noticed how Natasha held back a sob, covering up trying to sound cold and resentful towards you.

"Natasha…" you called out to her, you wanted to hold her against you but she snapped forward continuously and sloppily, hitting a spot inside you that made you whimper. "F-fuck!" You cried, it was loud and that made you cover up your own mouth.

Her climax hit and she buried herself to the hilt inside you, holding perfectly still as she rode out her orgasm. Waves of her hot cum filled your pussy, coating your insides, but she didn't say a word, she didn't tell you or even warn you. She just stayed frozen, her body shaking with the intensity of her release.

She gazed down, biting her trembling lip as she observed her cock, slick with both your arousal and her release, still buried deep inside you. A shudder ran through her as she felt the last drops of cum seep out on the tip of her shaft. Slowly pulling out, she couldn't help but moan softly at the erotic sight of her thick cum slowly oozing out of your well-used pussy. You innocently wiggle your ass as you move and it only intensified the lewd display.

You stood all by yourself and she calmly situated herself back into her leather office chair, cleaning herself up, refusing to look at your trembling form.

"N-nat?" You called, a tear running down your cheeks. You saw her reddened eyes and flushed cheeks—you were right—she was crying, but so are you. You slowly backed away, frantically tugging at your disheveled clothes, you could feel her cum still dripping slowly into your panties.

"Nat? Can we talk?" You tried again, you didn't like the feeling of this. You felt used.

"You can go now." She said flatly, her voice devoid of any emotion.

You walked towards the door, desperation etched on your face, hoping for some kind word, any sign of affection. You hated yourself for expecting some that you wanted to slap yourself. You frantically swiped at your wet cheeks, trying your best not to break down in front of her. But no matter how hard you rubbed, more tears spilled out. You couldn't catch a break, each blink bringing forth a new wave of salty drops.

And her? She just sat there, staring at her computer screen, her expression cold and heartless as if nothing happened.

She has done her plan for you anyways. So there is nothing to talk about anymore, the last thing on her list is you running back to her.

As you rushed your way out, you saw your bag on the chair with a bouquet of flowers. "Hey, Y/N. This is for you, I had to leave for the chess team. I really hate doing this but I'd like you to be my date on senior night. —T.S."

You could only huff, your brows pinching together to hold the tears that are threatening to fall again. But you weren't able to help it, you ended up having a break down outside her office, with the flowers on your arm and the evidence of what she did to you still oozing inside of you.

⧗

"Ladies and gentlemen, faculty, family, friends..." Your voice cracked slightly, betraying your nerves, but you steadied yourself, refusing to let the ghosts of the past dictate this moment. "We've worked tirelessly, overcome obstacles, and in some cases, experienced pain both personal and academic."

You glanced down at your notes, a faint smile playing on your lips as you continued. "I'd like to thank my family and friends for their unwavering support, my blockmates for turning sleepless nights into unforgettable memories, and lastly, I want to express my deepest gratitude to the professors who have molded us into the graduates we are today."

As you scanned the audience, your gaze landed on Professor Romanoff, who sat upright, her expression unreadable. You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat threatening to choke you. With a deep breath, you concluded your speech. "Thank you, and congratulations to the class of 2025!"

The graduation ceremony drew to a close, and the air was filled with joyous cheers and the clicking of cameras. As you mingled with your fellow graduates, collecting well-wishes and hugs, you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. It seemed like everyone was drawn to you—your classmates, their families, even some of the professors. You were the center of attention, the summa cum laude, the valedictorian.

As you made your way through the crowd, congratulations ringing in your ears, a different sort of tension gripped you. You shifted uncomfortably, trying to ignore the growing pressure and the whispers that began to rise around you. Your swelling stomach was becoming more prominent by the second, stretching the fabric of your gown. You caught a few raised eyebrows and exchanged looks of confusion among your peers, their eyes glued to you.

The whispers grew louder, more urgent, as realization dawned on everyone. The batch valedictorian delivered her speech with a baby bump that had been concealed beneath flowing gowns and baggy clothes all semester, but now...there was no hiding it. Exactly four months along, your secret was suddenly the most spoken topic at this joyous event.

Tony stood near enough to be seen by you, a bouquet of roses hiding behind his back. He had been about to confess his feelings, to tell you that your intellect and beauty had captivated him all these years you had been rivals. But now, as he noticed the unmistakable curve of your belly…you noticed how he stepped back. His perfectly prepared speech shattered in his mind.

He walked away from you as if he was disappointed in you. At the same time you could feel the shift in the atmosphere, not just from him but the disappointment radiating off the crowd like a physical force.

You tried to smile to those around you to mask the dam that is going to break soon, but you still held your chin up with the little courage and confidence you had left in you.

"Mama, I'll just talk to someone. I'll meet you in the car." Your mother has been very supportive of you, yes, she scolded you when she got the news that you were pregnant. She always looked up and expected more from you, but still, she accepted and took care of you.

With a deep breath, you marched down the corridor towards her office. There were no people around and that's when it suddenly hit you. Tears started rushing down your cheek as your heels clicked urgently against the polished floor even though your OB gyne told you to stop wearing elevated shoes, you wiped them away frantically because you don't want to face her feeling vulnerable like this. The determination etched on your face chased away any lingering doubts. You were going to face this head-on, consequences be damned.

As you pushed open the door, she glanced up from her desk, surprise momentarily flashing across her features before smoothing into a smirk.

She leaned back in her leather chair, folding her hands atop the polished wood. "Y/N, to what do I owe this unexpected visit?"

"Natasha…" you stepped forward, your hand traveling down your stomach. Your built up mask breaking, feeling vulnerable and exposed in front of her. You held back your tears, shaming yourself. "I have never been with anyone but you. I'm pregnant…I—I think you got me—"

She got your message, of course she did. Because this is exactly how she planned it to be, her claiming you in a way you didn't expect, you running back to her all vulnerable, and her turn saying…

"It was a mistake."

[moonstruckme]

Hii! I love your fics so much and I was wonder if you could do a emt marauders fix where the reader gets a concussion? I just got another one and it’s really taken a toll on me. (Again, I love your work SO MUCH!! It’s so comforting!!)

Hi my sweetheart! I'm so sorry, I swear I highlighted emt marauders when I was writing this request but somehow along the way I seemed to forget that it was supposed to be the au, I hope this is still alright (I'm very down to do another for emt specifically if you would like)! And I really hope you're doing okay!! Concussions are so rough, I hope your recovery is going well <3

cw: concussion

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

Sirius wakes to shushing sounds from down the hall. Bright sunlight has snuck in through the cracks in the blinds, laying itself down in slats across the bed. He’s laying nearly sideways with no one else to shove him away, one of his feet dangling off the side of the mattress and his head on the opposite pillow. 

He gets up though his body doesn’t want to, following the sound into the living room. The curtains are drawn closed here, too, though it’s light enough for Sirius to make you both out clearly, you sitting on the couch and Remus with your hands in his, speaking to you in a hushed voice while slow tears dribble off your chin. 

“Hey.” Sirius’ voice betrays his lethargy, but you don’t seem to notice. You look up with shiny eyes as he steps into the room. “What’s the matter, sweetheart?” 

The answer takes time to come to you. Sirius isn’t sure if you’re searching for the words or if your thoughts are just evading you as they have been since you got hurt, but his heart twinges when your brows bunch in concentration. 

Remus only looks at you steadily. He’s been the most patient with you; Sirius and James both have the urge to guess at the ends to your sentences when you get stuck, but Remus only waits, letting you parse it out in your own time. 

“I’m sad. Frustrated,” you decide, though you look more glum than angry. You sniff. “I want to be better already.” 

Sirius nods in both understanding and sympathy, going to sit behind you on the couch. He knows Remus isn’t the most tactile, but it kills him to see you with your shoulders shaking and no arms wrapped around them. He’s quick to remedy this.

“We were playing cards,” Remus explains in his quiet way (a way Sirius has been trying to mimic to accommodate your sound sensitivity, though it doesn’t come easily to him), “and she just got a bit upset when she didn’t remember whether aces were high or low.” 

Sirius tsks, nosing at your cheek. “That’s common enough, darling. It can go either way.” 

“That’s what I said,” Remus tells him. His thumbs carve twin paths up the sides of your palms. “It hardly matters, I’m happy to play with them high or low.” 

“I just wish I knew like usual,” you say, though you already seem to be calming. Your voice has taken on that distant quality again. It still sounds like you, just a tad dazed, like when you first wake up in the mornings. 

Sirius rubs up and down your shoulder, pressing his lips to the side of your chin. He can’t imagine it’s comfortable, feeling so unlike yourself. Worse to know it’s not changing soon. You hit your head a few days ago, and it’ll probably be some time until you feel completely normal again. 

Sirius has been told he can be dramatic, but when you’d fallen he honestly thought for a second that you were dead, you were so still. In the pandemonium of sirens and doctors and waiting rooms that had followed, James and Remus each took a bit of time to process things, get their emotions in order, but Sirius has never been able to cry in public. When they finally got to take you home, he’d gotten in the shower and cried so hard he thought he’d throw up. He’s honestly not sure if he’s ever been so terrified in his life. After you got into bed that night he’d hugged you so hard you’d called him James, and your boyfriends had all laughed before they realized you weren’t joking. 

He and Remus hold you in silence for some time. None of you seem to mind. Sirius is still too sleepy to get bored, you’re presumably too concussed, and Remus is still Remus. He can look at the two of you all day and never need a diversion. 

The room seems to come alive when James gets home, not only because of his sparkling personality but also because he lets in a bunch of sunlight and a cacophony of street noise with him. 

“Hello, my loves,” he says, adjusting his volume halfway through the sentence. He shuts the door behind him with care, dropping his rugby bag onto the floor with far less. “How are we doing?” 

“I’m doing horrible,” Sirius says, though it’s obvious he was really only asking about you. “I haven’t had anything to eat yet today.” 

“You have just woken up,” Remus points out with a droll look, but James indulges him. 

He sets a big hand on Sirius’ head and kisses between his own fingers. He smells like dirt and sweat, gross on anyone else but hot when it’s him. James gives you the same treatment next, palm stroking down the back of your head protectively. 

“You alright, lovie?” he murmurs. 

You hum. “Why?” 

“Nothing.” His eyes slide to Sirius, a question in them. “You look as though you might’ve had a cry, that’s all.” 

“Water under the bridge,” Sirius assures him, giving you a firm squeeze. “We’re all good now, just very hungry and in need of someone to make sandwiches for lunch. Right, baby?” 

You nod amenably, but Remus fixes you with a curious look. 

“Are you hungry, dove?” he asks. 

You take some time to mull this over. Sirius bites the inside of his lip to restrain himself, and he can see James doing the same to his cheek. It’s a good thing that you’re taking such a thorough inventory of yourself, he supposes, but it’s agonizing to watch how much effort it takes you. After a while, you say, “I think so.” 

Remus nods. “Alright. We had a snack a bit ago, but if you’re hungry you should eat. I can make sandwiches,” he shoots Sirius a teasing look as he starts to stand, “since I’m not in the habit of taking advantage of those who’ve just got home from training.” 

“No, sit.” James urges Remus back down with a hand on his shoulder, squeezing fondly. “I’ve got it, I’m on an adrenaline roll right now anyway. Egg and cress all around?” 

“Yes, please,” Remus says. You echo a moment later. 

Sirius can’t seem to detach himself from you, which isn’t unusual but has been worse since your injury. He dots kisses along the edge of your jaw to amuse himself. 

“Are you feeling tired?” Remus asks you. “You haven’t had a nap yet today.” 

Sirius waits for the inevitable joke about your nursing home schedule, but it doesn’t come. You must not be feeling up to it. 

You shrug, mumbling, “I’m okay.” 

“Have a nap with me after lunch,” Sirius says. “I’m knackered, and I could use a cuddle buddy.” 

You make a confused humming sound. “Were you just asleep?” 

“I was,” he admits readily. “And it’ll be even better the second time around, with you there.” 

[lovverletters]

Been waiting for this lol

*Ahem* I introduced Yan husband! Finally, after years of waiting and stalking and murdering (if that's cool), he finally has you! He worships you every day and reminds you how lucky he is, and he tells everyone how he's so lucky and how you're perfect!

Yandere! Husband

A/N : Thanks for requesting! Hope you like it, 🌻 anon!

T/W : soft yandere, stalking, implied murder, non consentual photographing, stealing items, this is late asf

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

"Honey, do you remember how we met?"

[Name] asked their husband of 6 years as they flip through their old journal, reliving their countless embarrassing, bitter and sweet memories of their youth.

They had been sifting through the storage closet earlier when they stumbled upon a box containing their old belongings dating back from when they were still studying in high school until they got married to their husband, Derek.

"Of course I do, it's the day I met the love of my life" He says with a smile on his face.

"Psh.. you're so cheesy Derry" [Name] swatted their husband's shoulder playfully, flustered at his words.

"What? I'm being honest. Every moment spent with you is unforgettable" A dark glint was present in his eyes as he uttered his reply.

How could he ever forget the day he met his beloved [Name]?

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Derek had been in his senior year of high school by the time he met [Name].

They had only recently moved to his hometown and enroll to the high school. He could still recall their timid expression as they asked him for directions, at that moment Derek brushed off the encounter as a one time thing.

He was graduating and they were a junior, he'll probably won't see them again.

Until Derek started to bump into [Name] more frequently albeit it being only a coincidence. [Name] would notice his presence and greeted him with a small wave everytime they pass by each other in the hallway or waiting in line during lunch.

Eventually, he finally spoke to them one day. It felt odd for him to be around them yet never uttering a single word.

It was the best decision he ever made.

"Uhㅡhey" Derek cursed himself inwardly for choking on his words.

[Name]'s eyes widened, spooked to hear him talk to them. They mustered up a crooked smile after recollecting themself to reply to him.

"Derek, hi. Sorry, I was on my phone that I didn't notice you behind me"

From then, something shifted in him. Their conversation faded into a white noise in his ears as his thoughts became fixated in [Name]'s voice.

He had heard them speak before but it felt different when they're talking to him. Their voice engraving itself into his brain like an earworm.

It doesn't stop there, their interaction expanded as their friendship blooms. [Name] would seek him out on subjects they were struggling on despite having other student who would eagerly help themㅡ his heart swells with pride knowing that it's him whom they're relying on.

Derek would also began inviting them to his football practice as an excuse to invite them for an ice cream laterㅡ and to also flex his athleticism in hopes of receiving praises from them.

He's not stupid, he knows that he likes themㅡ loves them. Maybe he had been a fool for underestimating his feelings for them.

It had been an unfortunate timing that he had never been able to confess to [Name] as his graduation passes and he was wrapped up with preparing for his higher education.

Those times away and distance from [Name] were hellish. Derek felt his sanity wanning with each day passes and his thoughts were constantly thinking of [Name].

What are they doing, Where they're at, Who they're withㅡ They don't have a partner don't they? They didn't replace me did they?? I'll kill that bastard who took my placㅡ

He finally cracked after stalking through their social media page and seeing the other student having grown close to them within months of his absence.

Derek decided that he's had enough sitting around in the sidelines with an aching heart. He'll make his move and insured that [Name] will be his.

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

"I then drove back to back from my university to yours for years until I finally had enough and decided to ask you to move in with me" He traced the picture they took on their first day moving into his house.

[Name] snorted and pinched their husband's cheek, laughing as they teased him.

"Silly, you, I can't believe you rent out an apartment just because you can't be away from me anymore"

Derek huffed and flipped to the next page, tracing [Name]'s photo as he always does everytime he sees it.

"I love you too much, it hurt's to not be around your presence. I feel like I was going to die with each hour passes without you"

"Mmh sure, how come you never died after leaving me everytime you have to go back?" [Name] attempt at poking at their husband again.

Only to receive an unexpected answer.

"I never left" Derek uttered. No elaboration whatsoever.

Silence follows after as the cogs in [Name]'s brain turn to process what their sweet stupid dork husband just said.

Derek closed the journal shut and stood up, planting a kiss on their temple.

"I'm going to prepare dinner now. You better come and eat when I call you before continuing your clean up! No buts and ifs, okay love?" He gave them another kiss before disappearing into the kitchen.

Come to think of it, Derek had re-entered their life at a time where their newfound friend tragically passed in a mysterious incident. [Name] had been devastated and clung to Derek for comfort before it eventually delved into them being in a relationship with the man.

Everything was perfect. Too perfect if they had to be honest. It's almost as if he had planned it.

They shook off the thoughts and continued sorting through the old boxes when one of the contents surprised them.

It was the items they thought they had lost or threw away. But how could Derek have it when they had lost it before they begun dating. The polaroids were also odd as Derek weren't around during their senior year when it was takenㅡ if the dates marked was correct.

"Honey! Dinner's ready"

They'll ask him about it later.

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

[azrielbrainrot]

Silent Voices Speak

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Description: Both you and Azriel find yourselves with some sleep related problems. Who would have thought you could be each other's remedy?

Warnings: barely any angst

Word Count: 3400

Notes: I can't believe it took me so long to write a new story in the healer!reader universe, they're my first babies. Hope you enjoy!

Healer!Reader Universe Masterlist

The killings hadn't stopped. The, by now, tripled security slowed them down and allowed the Inner Circle to be made aware of any disturbances quicker, and the bodies hadn't been found by any innocent civilians since then either, thankfully saving a lot of fae from having to witness such gruesome sights, but the killings hadn't stopped.

Your research has given you some clues as to the motives behind the murders, though you still can't fully understand the ritual behind them. None of the information you've gathered has helped in stopping them from happening or finding the people responsible for them. Amren has traveled to the Day Court and is now searching the High Lord's extensive libraries to try and find more information on a lead she got but, for now, there wasn't enough to make anyone feel safer.

The streets of Velaris felt lifeless, bars and restaurants closing earlier than usual given the unofficial curfew every fae seemed to have set for themselves. The City of Dreamers, heart of the Night Court, was scared of the dark. Apart from the killings, that was what weighed the heaviest on the Inner Circle's minds.

Feyre and Rhysand had been forthcoming with information, letting the public know they were actively searching for the killers and sharing some of the details as a means to stop the rumors that kept going around that were only exaggerating the already awful murders the more they spread. Of course, they'd been careful not to reveal any of the more gruesome details, or the fact that everything pointed to the murders actually being sacrifices to what could be an old God or even worse.

Those had been the details keeping you up at night as you were now, sipping on chamomile tea in hopes of relaxing your body enough to get some sleep without any unwanted thoughts filtering through and spoiling it once again. You wanted to help as much as you could, and weren't considering talking to Rhys and backing down as Azriel had suggested multiple times, but you weren't used to witnessing this much cruelty, not like this.

When you'd been stationed as a healer during the war, you saw a lot of awful things, some of them you won't ever forget, but this felt different. Everything about these killings and the motives behind them had set off every alarm in your body.

The cup was empty before you realized, bringing it up to your mouth only to be met with nothing. You let out a sigh and look over to the comfortable bed, knowing you had to at least lay down and try to fall asleep, no matter how frustrating it was to toss and turn for hours on end or get woken up by terrifying dreams. At least this bed was a lot more comfortable than the one you had at home, it almost made you want to ask Rhysand where he got it from although you probably would never be able to afford it.

You're not entirely sure what brought it on but, after coming back from yet another fruitless mission, Azriel asked you to stay in the townhouse with him. You tried to decline, not entirely comfortable with staying at the High Lord's house indefinitely. You've spent some nights up in the House of Wind when you were helping with research, but this was different. You didn't want to take advantage of Rhysand and Feyre's kindness, but Azriel insisted, a tormented look you weren't used to seeing painted in the shadowsinger's face, and so you ended up accepting.

Just remembering your talk that night made you feel hopeless, wanting nothing more than to make him feel better and take some of the unbearable weight off his shoulders somehow.

“I'm not sure this is necessary,” you try to reason with him, “There haven't been any attacks in the city, with so many eyes on the streets it would be impossible.”

“It also seemed impossible for them to be able to hide for so long but even my shadows are blind to them.”

“I can't stay at my High Lord and Lady's home."

“I can't sleep not knowing you're safe,” the admission feels heavy between you, prompting you to study his face carefully, taking note of the fear and desperation behind his request. “I wouldn't forgive myself if something happened to you.”

“Azriel…”

You don't know what to say, not sure what this means for the two of you.

“Please.”

But with that little word he convinced you, not caring if it was Rhysand's house you were going to sleep in, or anyone else's, as long as it made Azriel feel at least a bit more at ease.

Your relationship has been changing ever since that fateful night when he kissed your cheek goodnight. It's a silly thought even now, that something so inconsequential as a peck to the cheek would end up meaning so much for the two of you.

Ever since that day your talks have gotten longer and more frequent, Azriel has also flown you to and from work a few times, has taken you on multiple outings that you can only classify as dates at this point. But things hadn't gotten further than that and more chaste kisses on the cheek.

The timing wasn't right. Not with everything that has been happening and the troubles filling both of your minds, the long hours Azriel had been putting his body through trying to find even the smallest clue about these murders, and your assistance in any research the Inner Circle needs as well as providing mental and physical aid to a terrified city.

Your feelings for him were impossible to deny - even though you've certainly tried to when everyone else asks about him, especially your High Lady, who you've come to learn is an avid busybody, - and you were more than confident that he cared for you just as much, but the timing wasn't right, and so you've been stuck between acting like friends and so much more.

You were still thinking about the shadowsinger when your head hit the pillow, making yourself comfortable and letting your thoughts wander around warm hazel eyes and shy smiles, hopefully lulling you into a peaceful sleep at last.

Rushed murmurs and harsh breaths take you away from the soft grasp of sleep. You try to ignore them at first but as the words grow louder, you try to decipher them confused. A flurry of shadows filters into your room, flying over you when you open your eyes to try and ascertain the situation. You can barely see them with the low lights the moon rays covered by dark curtains provide, but it almost feels like they're tugging at you, urging you to get up.

The thought that Azriel could be in danger makes you leap out of bed, foregoing your robe or slippers as you follow the frantic shadows to his room next to yours. Only hesitating at the door for a moment, knuckles raised against the intricately designed wood as you considered knocking before barging into his room unannounced, but another string of groans and panicked breathing assault your ears, prompting you to open the door.

Your eyes land on the shadowsinger immediately as he lay restless on his bed, blinking a few times as you adjusted to the dim lighting, his room being even darker than yours. A small sigh of relief escapes you when you find him unharmed, although you soon realize that the noises you heard were the result of what appears to be a particularly consuming and terrifying nightmare.

He had struggled so much in his sleep that the sheets were completely thrown off, laying by his feet as his body tossed and turned uninterrupted. A light sheen of sweat covered him, telling you he'd been at this for a while. There was a familiar glint of blue on his nightstand, as Truth Teller and two of his siphons lay close by. You tried not to linger on the fact that he didn't appear to be wearing anything else aside from underwear for too long.

Some of the shadows that swirled around the room meet the ones that had brought you here, moving over you once more as if asking you to save their singer. You wanted to help them, but you're not entirely sure if you should be seeing him like this, if he'd want you to see him so vulnerable.

Aside from that, waking up someone when they were so immersed in a dream, especially a nightmare, could be dangerous and bring more harm than good. Still, you couldn't leave him like this and go back to your room, so you decide to try and call his name softly, hoping the noise or familiarity will be enough to help him wake up in a more organic way.

“Azriel?”

You hesitate in the doorway, feeling like you were already invading his space, but as another weak cry escapes him your body moves on its own. You're at the edge of the bed before you even notice, repeating his name and shaking him softly so as not to startle him too much.

The pain was evident on his face. You didn't know what he was dreaming of but you knew you had to pull him out of there fast. You've never seen him so distressed. Watching him like this felt like a chain was tightening around your heart and lungs, making it hard for you to breathe or think.

At a slightly harder push, his eyes open, one scarred hand moving to grab your wrist, stopping you from touching him as the other went to the nightstand, finding the hilt of his dagger. His hazel eyes were open wide, clearly disoriented by not only the nightmare but also having someone in his room. You expected nothing less from the Spymaster, of course he couldn't be so easily caught off guard even in his own room, but the tight grip was becoming too much, and you knew it was bruising, not being able to stop yourself from cringing softly at the pain.

As he understands the situation, wide eyes blinking multiple times as the waking world comes into focus, he drops your wrist and pulls away from you, sitting up and almost bumping his head against the headboard in his rush.

Neither of you moves or speaks for a moment, his heavy breathing the only thing that can be heard in the dark room. You wanted to turn the faelights on, to properly check on him, but Azriel always prefered the dark, feeling much more at ease surrounded by it. In fact, his shadows had hurried to him as soon as he woke up.

When his wide gaze settles into a frown, hazel eyes dropping to your wrist, you decide to speak up. You know that look and this was not the time for any other worries that might be growing in his mind, certainly none that concerned you.

“Azriel,” you whisper, not wanting to startle him, “Are you okay?”

“Did I hurt you?”

“No-”

“I shouldn't have hurt you,” he says, more to himself than to you, haunted eyes never straying from your wrist. You had only wanted to help, but now it feels like you made it worse by coming here.

“No, it's my fault. I know better than to wake someone up from a nightmare,” you swallow, throat suddenly dry, “but it looked like you were in pain and I couldn't leave you like this.”

He seemed unwilling to listen to you, a small, almost imperceptible shake of his head the only answer he gave you as you told him it wasn't his fault. Azriel is always too aware of himself, never allows himself any mistakes, as if he thinks he has to prove himself worthy of the life he leads. You don't even want to know what's going through his head now that he's convinced himself he hurt someone he cares about.

You let out a sigh when it was clear he wasn't going to say anything or acknowledge you further, you could almost see him receding into his own mind, getting consumed by his betraying thoughts. If you had listened to your training, you might not have ended up in this situation.

Slowly and very carefully, you move closer to him, giving him time to push you away or stop you if he wanted to. You only stop when your bare knee brushes his thigh, the warmth of his skin spreading through yours. Reaching for his hand, you interlock your fingers and squeeze softly, his eyes finally meeting yours.

“I shouldn't have grabbed you like that.” The pain was evident in his face, and it hurt you far more to think he was beating himself up than your wrist ever did. “I'm sorry.”

“There's no reason to be sorry,” you smile up at him, trying your best to soothe him, “You were disoriented and moved to protect yourself, that's all.”

He still looks unwilling to let go of his guilt, but you can see him settling back into himself, his usual calm expression falling over his beautiful face. He lets go of your hand in favor of cradling your wrist, carefully inspecting it as if he was looking at a broken bone and not at a bruise that would be completely healed within the hour. Caressing the soft skin with his thumb lightly, the scarred skin and affection behind the movement causing goosebumps to erupt.

“You didn't answer my question. Are you alright?”

Azriel looks up at you then, a conflicted look falling over his face once more. It seems he had been too focused on your wrist to remember the nightmare, and the fact that you'd seen him like that. You're almost positive he hates the fact that you've seen him like that even more than whatever haunted his nightmares. He's always been an extremely private person, so you can't even imagine what it feels like for him to be seen in such a vulnerable light by someone he barely knows.

“Did I wake you?”

“No,” the expression on his face telling you he doesn't believe it, “You didn't. I've been finding it hard to sleep with everything that has been going on.”

“You're safe here.”

“I know, I've just had too much on my mind.” It feels like you're doing this wrong, you're the one that should be worried about him, not the other way around. “Your shadows came into my room and I heard movement so I came to check on you.”

Disapprovement flashes in his eyes, directed at his shadows of course. You'd find it adorable how he treats his shadows like misbehaving children if it weren't for the situation. Hopefully he won't be too harsh on them, you can almost feel the lecture coming. You're not entirely sure how much they can feel, if they can at all, but they had done good in going to find you, even if Azriel reprimanded them for it.

“I didn't know they could do that without you being conscious. They were very helpful,” you smile down at the dark wisps stationed over his shoulders. He clearly didn't agree with you, a soft scoff escaping his lips, but you hope this is enough for them to know they can come to find you in this type of situation from now on. You don't want Azriel to suffer on his own when you're there for him.

“Thank you,” you look up at him in surprise, “You didn't have to come. It was only a nightmare.”

It's not as surprising that he doesn't want to tell you what the nightmare was about, or even change the subject. If he wants to pretend this never happened come morning, you're more than welcome to oblige, as long as he feels better and knows you're always ready to lend a helping hand.

“You can come to me for anything, Azriel,” your hand finds his once again, thumb caressing the scarred skin on the back of his hand. “I'll always be here for you.”

He holds your gaze in an intense stare, the swirl of emotions written in his eyes becoming almost too much to bear, and still you're unable to break away from the all-consuming hazel. It seems like the world stops around you for a moment, and there's only you and him.

As your surroundings return slowly, you suddenly become too aware of the position you're in, of what it would look like if someone walked in. They would find you sitting on his bed, right next to him, lost in his eyes, hands clasped together between you, disheveled hair and half lidded eyes. The lack of clothing only added to the sight, you had never been so conscious of how short and thin the nightgown you wore to sleep was. You can only be grateful that Azriel doesn't sleep completely naked, though his underwear barely leaves anything to the imagination, and your imagination is desperate to run wild.

Heat rushes to your cheeks as the thought settles in your mind, clearing your throat softly to try and break yourself out of those thoughts. Looking up at the suddenly captivating pattern painted on his dark navy walls when his gaze becomes too much. You could swear you saw the corner of his lip rise as he likely noticed the effect he had on you. This was a good thing, it was like the Azriel you're used to, but you needed to get back on track.

“Do you think you can go back to sleep?” You try to untangle your fingers from his but he holds onto your hand, unwilling to let go of you just yet. “I can get you some tea to help you relax if you can't, or maybe we could go for a walk instead?”

Tiring him out could be a good idea, although his body is probably beyond exhausted from the long hours he's been putting himself through. Maybe tea was the best option.

“Can you stay with me?”

His words cut through your racing thoughts, your lips parting in surprise. You had half expected him to kick you out of his bedroom when he came to, inviting you into his bed was the last thing you would have seen coming.

“What?”

“I think I can sleep if you stay,” he whispers, “but if you don't feel comfortable-”

“I don't mind staying,” you rush to assure him with burning cheeks, thankfully matching his own, “You just caught me off guard that's all.”

Azriel offers you a tired smile and, with a wave of his hand, fixes the sheets, moving to the middle of the bed so you have enough room to settle next to him. Your movements are painfully awkward as you lay down next to him, all too aware of every inch of your body, heart beating out of your chest.

While you're in the middle of deciding how to safely position your hands, stiff body frozen in place, he takes matters into his own hands, an achingly fond smile playing at his lips, his hand falling to the small of your back and pulling you in closer to his body, his scent enveloping you.

Azriel closes his eyes, breathing out a soft, “relax.” Your hand finds his chest, body slowly but surely melting into him as you do as he says and will your mind to stop wandering. Letting the soft beats of his heart calm yours, you decide to listen to your body, and fall into him, arm wrapping around his waist as you inch even closer, your chest finding his, tangling your legs until you can't know where you end and he begins. His grip on you tightens as a satisfied sigh escapes him, one heavy wing falling over your body, until you're impossibly close.

Your face now only a breath away from his, your nose bumping into his chin as he drops a soft kiss to your forehead and nuzzles into you, breathing you in. You almost catch yourself purring as you lay in his arms, completely surrounded by Azriel.

Tangled up in each other's warmths, sleep found you both easily, finally allowing you a few peaceful hours of sleep after the grueling weeks you've endured.

[simpee9000]

Not Just Friends - 10 -

M.List : Prologue : Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6 : Part 7 : Part 8 : Part 9 : Words 3.1k

Childhood best friends turned into something more, at least with the label. Katsuki Bakugo, a fast-rising hero and fast-learning guy who is ever so slow in getting attached to and loving someone. Even three long years into a relationship, and your friends even forget you're even dating. Nothing happening, spare a few kisses.. like 3 kisses, during high school. Graduated and living together, and you guys have done absolutely nothing to further the relationship. Are you sure you're not just friends? Also not edited!! CW: Smut, brief domestic violence discussion, virginity loss, aggressive flirting from creeps, gore with pro hero stuff (lmk if i missed any) Applies to all chapters regardless of it is in said chapter.

It was a turn back to normal after the long conversation between the two of you. Tears sliding down your faces, majority yours but you saw a couple fall from his. It was a necessary conversation. He opened up about his quirk and apologized for ditching you. You apologize for the same.

Easily enough, the two of you moved on from it quickly. Talking about the past two months when all the overwhelming emotions passed. You blabbed about how many new offers you were getting and he talked about how he was hiring more and more people to his agency.

Despite not being able to ignore the last two months, it was easy to move past.

Growing past it within the night, having everything off your chest. It still didn't make things go back to normal.

You continued to share a bed, but changed your schedules around again to see more of each other. Flipping back into your old routine as much as possible. Not without a few changes though. Lunches would only be once a week rather than daily, and you'd be working for another hour or two after he got home. Since you wanted to sleep in still.

But it still improved your relationship again. Building it back up slowly. You were able to eat a late dinner together each night and share an off day. Sharing your off day made it easier for you anyway. After the break-in it was hard to be home without him, so the last two months were rough. Your therapist said you were doing great though, so that helped.

The first days of going back to normal was rough, having to adjust to seeing each other daily again. Conversations between the two of you felt awkward, mainly on your side. You grew so much in those two months, no longer relying on him. It shifted the dynamic.

"Y'good?" Katsuki's gruff voice broke your train of thought. Your eyes flickered up to him.

"Huh?"

"Been fuckin' playin' with your food," he points his fork at your plate, "Don't like it or some shit?"

"No, I like it," you looked back down. It was definitely not your favorite meal he made, but it was good.

His silverware claddered roughly against his plate, his arms crossing, "The fuck has been wrong with you?"

"Do you have to swear with every sentence?" you avoided, taking a bite of your food instead.

You could feel him roll his eyes along with his heavy sigh, "You've been off since."

"A relationship doesn't heal just like that," you pointed out.

"Will you look at me?" he asked annoyed. A glance up at his expression made you cut your attitude. He was trying, that much was obvious. And after all your talk of communication, you were doing nothing.

"Sorry," you set your fork down, engaging in the conversation, "I'm just lost? I guess. Hard to place it. I've changed a lot in the past two months-"

"How?"

You glared at him for interrupting you. "I've stopped prioritizing you. I'm more focused on myself now. It's hard to go back to normal when the 'normal,' was me running circles around you."

He shuffled in his seat, "That's fine. I'm glad you've moved on in that sense, done you good."

"You're not worried how it'll change us?" you asked softly, it's been all you were thinking of for the past few weeks.

"I'm always fuckin' worried," he admitted, eyes drifting to look at the wall instead of you, "But we'll work it out."

You were glad he still viewed the two of you as a 'we,' heart melting slightly as you reached your hand across the table. "I'm not going to tip-toe around you anymore, Kats."

"Good," he gruffed out, uncrossing his arms and grabbing onto your hand. Changing his focus onto that, "I don't want you to."

"Good," you agreed, smiling at how he let his thumb trace over your knuckles.

"You, um," he fumbled for a minute, eyebrows furrowing, "You're still okay with us not doing shit right?"

"I'd never push that," you confirmed, shocked he even thought you would complain about that.

"Don't get me wrong, I would, just-" he pulled his hands back wiping them on his pants before running them down his face, "my dumb fuckin' quirk."

"You love your quirk," you pointed out.

"Yeah and I'd fuckin' love to touch my girlfriend but no, I gotta be a horny virgin 'cause of it," he groaned, crossing his arms again.

Stifling a laugh was difficult, but you managed, "Maybe we can just work up to it? Get you used to the baseline first before, that."

His quirk went off suddenly, "Can't even fuckin' think of it," he groaned, standing up to go wash his hands off.

"It's cute." You followed behind him to place dishes in the skin, having cleared your plates a while ago.

"Fuck you."

"Hey," you laughed, "At least you can tell Denki and Sero that you beat them at No Nut November. And have for the past 19 years."

He shot you a glare from the sink, "The one challenge I wouldn't want to beat, great."

"It's what makes you number one to me, baby," you teased, kissing his shoulder as you moved past him, wanting to pester him while the mood was light and he was already flustered. It was nice how easy it was to move past something with him. But you wanted to test how much he'd react to you not tiptoeing around him anymore.

With success, his quirk popped off again.

"Fuck off."

You let out a crackle of laughter, "You're too easy."

"Die."

He finally stopped washing his hands, turning to dry them off. You watched from the counter, plotting. "Your back looks nice," you commented, his muscles have been more defined lately and you only got to appreciate it now. His tank top showcases his shoulders nicely.

He froze for a moment, side-eyeing you. "Do you want to get blown up or something?"

"No, do you want to get blown?" you asked back, letting Denki's crude humor influence you.

Like a charm, his quirk sparked off. "Quit it."

"Nah, it's too much fun," you smiled at him, kicking off the counter you were leaning on and moving to leave the kitchen. Hand squeezing his bicep when you walked by.

He didn't let you get even a step away before he grabbed your hand and pulled you into him. His hands grabbing at your hips and moving to push you into the counter. "Where do y'think you're goin'?" he smirked down at you.

Your face bloomed a deep shade, blushing harshly at how close he was. He hasn't been that close since you argued two months ago.

"Nothin' to say?"

You blinked up at him, trying to steady the rapid beating of your heart with the way he was tracing circles onto your hips.

"Might like you but that doesn't mean I'll let you say shit and get away with it," he crowded you closer to the counter.

"What happened to your quirk?" you whispered, losing your voice at the proximity.

"You offered to work up to it, right?" he brushed his hands clean on his shirt briefly before going back to your hips.

"Yeah," you looked down at his hands, trying to make sure the watch was off.

"It's off," he confirmed, twisting his wrist so you could see. When you looked back up at him, he held his gaze deeply, "What happened to that smart mouth?"

"Want me to show you?" you placed your hands on his chest, running over the span of his shoulders. Your body was on fire, the two of you flirted, sure, but this was different. His quirk was fully there. He was fully there.

His eyes lidded slightly, zeroing in his focus on your lips, "Fuck yeah I do."

Your lips closed the gap between the two of you. It wasn't as soft and nervous as all the past kisses, it was something you just threw yourself in. Stomach crazy with butterflies as your mind started buzzing. His hands tightened their grip on your hips as he stepped even closer to you.

Bodies curled into each other to get closer. Your hands digging into the hair at the base of his neck as you deepened the kiss. Full of passion and sexual tension. There was hardly any innocence to the kiss, and if there was, it faded within seconds.

A sigh of relief falling from your lips when his hands slipped under your shirt, brushing over your skin roughly. Fingers being callused and dry from work.

As soon as his hands met your skin he pulled away frantically. Pulling his body from yours completely before his quirk started popping off.

"Fuck me," he groaned in frustration, grabbing a dish towel and wiping his hands off.

"I wish I could," you teased.

He shot you a glare, blush flaring all over his face and coating his neck with a red. "Stop," he grumbled.

"Stop what?"

"Stop looking at me like that," he shied away, washing his hands in water for a moment.

You paused for a moment, considering how you looked. With how flushed his face was you could tell you were no better. Lips plumped and freshly kissed red as your shirt was ruffled up from his hands as you leaned back into the counter. "Why would I? You clearly like what you see?"

The confidence within you came from nowhere. There has been sexual tension between the two of you before, many times before. Even before he had the watch. But normally you had to be drunk as hell to make such obvious jokes towards him, especially ones about sex. Maybe it was the fact that it was on the table, when before it wasn't. You knew he wanted it as much as you did.

"Fuck off," he grumbled.

"Come on, Kats," you pushed your luck.

"I love you, but please stop whatever the fuck you're doing before we need a new apartment," he spoke without thought, freezing the second he realized what he said.

You barked out a laugh, he spoke so plainly. You didn't want him to get wrapped up in his head, so you ignored the rushing butterflies over his admissions. "Fine, fine," you gave in, smiling happily at him, "Hug?"

He looked at you, untrusting of you before he opened his arms, gesturing you near.

Taking the moment, you threw yourself in his arms. Wrapping your arms around his waist he pulled you in fully. Letting you rest your head on his chest as he rested his on yours.

Everything felt secure in your relationship, you'd move one step at a time together. With a lot of teasing between, but that was common between you and him, despite the lack of it lately.

"I love you too, by the way," you mumbled into his chest, having a happy feeling travel through your body at the small number of times he's actually said it.

"I know."

You moved slightly to look up at him, his eyes fell on yours before you spoke, "Are you hard?"

He glared sharply, embarrassment covering his features as you felt him grow hot. You were going to ignore the feeling of him pressing into your lower stomach, but decided you wanted the chance to rub it in his face that you have the upper hand here. He tried to pull away, only for you to keep your grip.

"Stop," he warned, his hands raised away from you.

"It's only a little spark, Kats," you tried to comfort.

With a roll of his eyes he smiled evilly down at you, "You asked for it," before you could protest, he wiped his sweaty hands on your face before rubbing the rest of it off on your sweater, down your chest.

"Katsuki! That's gross," you pulled away from him, using your sleeve to wipe away the damp residue of his sweat off your cheek before you pulled the bottom of your shirt out, seeing if he got sweat marks on it. "You just used that as an excuse to touch my tits," you glared at him, seeing the faint marks of his handprint on your shirt, right over your tits. It surprised you that he sweat enough to leave a mark.

He laughed sharply, walking out of the kitchen, "Got no proof, Brains."

"I literally have the proof of your hands on my tits," you called out to him.

He looked over you, "How do I know those are mine?"

"Really? Cause I'd let a random guy grope me and he'd be sweaty enough to leave a mark like you do," you snarked.

"No way to know," he shrugged.

"You're such an ass," you groaned.

His phone buzzing loudly cut off his laughter.

"This late?" you asked as you eyed his work phone.

"It's PR," he said as he furrowed his brows, answering the phone, "Dynamight."

You heard mumbling for a moment before he huffed and put his phone on speaker. "Can she hear me now?" the lady's voice rang through, the same manager you've spoken with before.

"Hello," you answered for him, "What can I do?"

"You've done quite enough," she spoke abruptly. It took a lot to get her mad, so to have pissed her off five words was a record. "People are spreading pictures of you crying in the middle of the street."

Katsuki's eyes shot to you, concerned.

"They also claim to of heard you talking to Deku, saying you said his name several times."

His concerned look turned to a glare quickly.

"I can explain that," you said quickly before Katsuki added his two cents, "I was having a rough time and decided to call a friend, simple."

She laughed, "It's not the simple. It was the night of your party. And with the lack of social outings between Dynamight and you, people are saying the two of you broken up."

"Why does this matter?" you asked annoyed. It was still a sore subject.

"It matters because bad things are being said about the two of you. It's not just Dynamight's image anymore, but yours too. They're saying he's abusive while also saying that you're sleeping your way to the top."

You've heard that said too many times to count. Both things. So filled with anger, you grabbed the phone from Katsuki's hand and hung up.

"The fuck?"

"I don't know! I'm annoyed," you huffed, tossing his phone onto the couch before pacing, "I'm sick of people talking."

"I get it's annoying but you're gonna hear it-"

"Not helping," you glared at him.

"PR helps get them to knock it off," he pushed.

"She hardly says anything but the obvious," you rolled your eyes, "We can just post a picture of us or something."

"How does that prove I don't hit you?"

You paused your pacing, "Under a truth quirk I said the worst thing about you was your socks. I think if you abused me I would have said that."

He gave up his fight with a shrug, moving to sit on the couch instead.

"Don't get me wrong, it pisses me off that they say that. There is just no way to prove otherwise. Nothing is ever enough for them," you corrected, not wanting him to get the idea that you were only concerned for yourself.

"If you think that, why are you so pissed right now?" he crossed his arms.

You shook your eyes off the flex of his arms, throwing your hands up in frustration, "Because everyone says that, I hate hearing it."

"What do you mean?"

"Everyone thinks you hit me or some bullshit," you huff.

"Everyone?"

"Like people that don't know you," you changed, "you're a softy and they ignore it.

"Who you callin soft?" he sat up straight.

You smiled at him, "Kats, you can't even look mad at me."

He glared at you, eyebrows being the only thing supporting it. His eyes were soft. "Die."

"Let's just forget about it," you sighed, not wanting to talk about the press or your relationship. Nothing stressful.

"Why were you even cryin' to Deku?"

"You," you admitted shamefully, looking away. Talking about this would be stressful.

When he said nothing, you turned back to him. He was staring out the window. The view was filled with city lights.

"I only called him 'cause I couldn't call you," you comforted, stepping closer to him.

"Could always call me," he spoke softly.

"Kats," at this point you were standing right in front of him

"Yeah?"

You swallowed quickly, "We don't need to do everything together."

He took a deep breath, "I know, just want you to know you can call me, no matter what."

"I already know that," you smiled fondly at him. It was one of the best things about him. No matter how mad he was at a friend or family, he would never ignore them if they needed anything, even a random call. He might ignore a stupid text, but he never missed a call from someone close to him.

"Good."

"Maybe," he looked up at you, "We don't do anything publically? If they think I'm dating you then good, if they think I'm not, I don't care."

"If you want," he shrugged.

"You don't mind?" you step closer to him, him making space for you by manspreading further.

"Not really, just don't go making 'em think you're dating that damn nerd."

"Okay."

"Want somethin'?" he looked at you with a brow up. His eyes flickering from your chest to your face.

"Seems like you do," you smiled, inviting yourself more into his personal space by straddling him, both knees by his side.

"What are you doing?" his hands were pushed outwards, far from you.

"It's fine," you hushed him, sitting your weight on his lap.

"We didn't even do this stuff with the watch," he hissed at you, face flushed.

"Yes we did," you looked at him confused, "I made you cum y-"

"Shut it," he huffed, hands popping with the sound of his quirk, "Get off."

"Look, if you really want to, I will, but I don't think you want me to," you didn't want to force him into anything.

"What even put you in this mood?" he glared at you.

"You looked at my tits," you shrugged.

"Cause you still have my handprint on em," he smirked proudly.

You looked down at them quickly, "Bakugo."

"What? It's how it should be."

"Will it stain?"

"Shouldn't."

"I hate you," you glared at him.

"Sure, cause one glance at your tits makes you wanna jump me, cause you hate me," he was too cocky.

"Shut up you can hardly kiss me without losing your mind," you fought back.

"Kissed ya earlier didn't I?"

"Barely, come on, kiss me like a man-"

Forgetting his prior reluctance, he pulled you into him. Connecting your lips in a messy kiss as his hand held you to him by the back of your neck. Slowly losing its grip before sliding down to your waist. Losing himself into the kiss just as you were.

You were shocked he was even kissing you, cherishing the win regardless. Moving more onto him. Wrapping your arms around him, scratching at his scalp as you pulled on his hair.

The groan that left his lips encouraged you to push down more in his lap, wanting something more. You could never get enough of him. Anything he'd give, you'd take.

A rough push of yourself onto him caused his quirk to go off, not just a small spark either.

It singed your top, burning your skin.

You jumped off his lap once he let go, holding your sides.

His hand was placed right over your old scar.

Posted late cause I forgot to finish the chapter, and the tag list is being a bitch rn. (phone is glitching and laptop is weird) if it's fucked up mb.

---

-Next Part-

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[jinhyun]

—sugar rush.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

genre: angst, fluff, pining, non-idol au, best friend’s brother au

word count: 7.4k

summary: hyunjin’s heart had been broken by you more than once, and still, he refused to let you go through your own heartbreak alone.

warnings: many mentions of heartbreak, break up, breakdown, and a small mention of weight loss (because of heartbreak).

author’s note: she’s here! tbh i didn’t plan for it to be this long, i wanted to lightly mention hyunjin’s past heartbreaks but once i started writing i couldn’t stop lol. i hope this gives you guys some more insight on their story and feelings. if anyone casually comes across this one shot, it is part four of my social media au “heart out”. i hope you all enjoy! don’t forget to reblog and/or leave a comment if you do<3

The first time Hyunjin saw you, he was only seventeen.

Yeji was in her second year of university and was still living at their family home. She would often tell them about her best friend she made back in first year, and she must’ve shown them one or two pictures at some point, yet for some reason Hyunjin never really got interested enough to actually pay attention — being too busy trying to achieve good grades in the classes he was struggling with the most. After all, after that year he would only have one more to make it to a good university and live up to his parents’ expectations, since his older sister had made it to one of the best universities in Seoul and they were expecting just the same from him.

So, when Yeji called their mother one day and asked if her best friend could stay with them that weekend since she wasn’t from Seoul and was having a few issues with her dorm, Hyunjin didn’t think much of it. If anything, he had rolled his eyes over the thought of having to hide in his room and not being able to raid the kitchen whenever he wanted, not to run into his sister’s stranger friend.

But then you crossed the door later that night, with a shy smile curving up your lips as you introduced yourself to all three of them and thanked them for allowing you to stay the weekend, and suddenly he felt like wanting to raid the kitchen every five minutes that weekend, just in hopes of running into you and getting a glimpse of your face.

One look at you was all it took for him to get the biggest crush on someone yet, and one single weekend into meeting you was all it took for him to know that the immediate infatuation he felt towards you would only grow from then on.

Now, being only three months away from turning twenty four, he could only give his seventeen year old self a pat on the shoulder because of how well he had judged the future of his feelings for you. That, and to comfort his younger self as well, because, God, nothing could have prepared him for what was about to come his way.

Six years had passed in the blink of an eye since then, and here he was, still loving you from the sidelines.

And in those six years of loving you, he had experienced heartbreak three times. All three of them, by you.

You, who didn’t even know he had feelings for you.

You, who didn’t see him as anything other than Yeji’s little brother — not to say your little brother.

You, who had grown closer to him at one point, only to pull away when you fell for someone else.

Hyunjin wasn’t stupid, he knew how the world and feelings worked. He knew a twenty year old wouldn’t fall for a seventeen year old who was in his second to last year of high school — at least not a sane one, and you were very much sane, he found out right away.

Then again, although not stupid, he was still naive. Which is why he believed everything would change when he turned nineteen and became legal.

He spent his last two years of high school focusing on his studies, not even looking at his classmates or at any other girl at school.

He would only see you from time to time, whenever Yeji invited you over, which wasn’t that often given the two of you would much rather hang out alone at your dorm. Most of the news he got from you were because he asked Yeji about you, or, if he was lucky enough, because his parents asked about you when he just happened to be there.

He would also often find himself going through your social media in hopes of you having posted a picture that showed your face. And, sometimes, he would be brave enough to comment on your posts — just casual little comments that would leave him smiling for the rest of the day whenever you replied.

You didn’t interact much back then, and he was okay with it. Granted, he wished you talked more, and he really fucking wished he got to see you more often, but he could deal with it, because once he entered university and turned nineteen, everything would change.

But then, by the time he was nineteen, you were about to turn twenty two. He was only starting university, and you were already in your last year of it.

He refused to let go of the small pinch of hope he still had in him, however. He had made it to your and Yeji’s university, after all, and although he didn’t choose your same career path, he would use being in the same campus to his advantage.

He started by asking for your help regarding small assignments. Whether they were actually hard or easy as hell, risking looking dumb to you, he would reach out and ask for your help. Getting a simple explanation that wouldn’t take you longer than two minutes would make his entire day. You never judged him when it came to ‘dumb questions’, and sometimes, if he was lucky enough and you had some time in your hands, you would take him for coffee — the intention being to properly help him out with his assignments, yet most of the time it would turn out in the two of you just hanging out and having a good time together.

Then, deciding the few times you got to hang out at a café weren’t enough, Hyunjin became more straightforward. He realised there were days you would stay at the library while Yeji went home, as she found studying at home to be more productive, unlike you, and it so conveniently aligned with the days his schedule ended the latest. He used to despise that one last class with a passion, until he found out you were at campus alone by then. So, he took it upon himself to text you as soon as the class ended, asking if you were done and offering to walk you to your dorm.

At first you hesitated, not wanting to take up even more of his commute time, since you lived on campus and he didn’t, but after a couple of times it became your thing, to the point Hyunjin wouldn’t even text you beforehand anymore and would straight up head over to the library; whether to pick you up as you were already placing your books inside your bag, or to sit down next to you and do whatever —mainly staring at you without you noticing— while he waited for you to be done.

Sometimes he would have lunch with you and Yeji. It wasn’t very usual, since he did have his own group of friends, but there were times when he felt like spending some extra time with you, and his sister being there was a good excuse to do so without seeming too clingy.

Some days you would text back and forth. Some others you would text him something that reminded you of him and vice versa. And some others you wouldn’t text at all, but he would find a way to see you.

Before he knew it, Hyunjin grew used to talking to you every single day. And he was okay with it, because by then it had already become natural and you seemed to enjoy his company just as much as he enjoyed yours.

He didn’t get into the same university as you and Yeji just to be with you, of course, but fuck, was he over the moon now that he had multiple excuses to hang out with you.

He wanted to believe that you were at least beginning to move past the innocent image you had of him — the one of him being Yeji’s little brother, and therefore needing protection. He made himself believe that deep down you were starting to feel something for him, even if you didn’t notice. And he was willing to make you notice.

But then the second semester came, and halfway through it he felt you slip away.

Hyunjin didn’t know when or why you stopped hanging out, but he hardly got to see you anymore.

He didn’t think much of it at first. Your schedules were very different now, and he thought that was the reason. You were on your last semester and your times just didn’t coincide like they used to. Simple as that.

You still helped him out whenever he came to you with questions regarding one of his classes, you still smiled ever so sweetly whenever you saw him, you still reached out to check up on him.

But you wouldn’t wait for him to walk you home anymore, and you wouldn’t really text that much either — your conversations going from texting each other the most random of things throughout the day, to you only answering his questions regarding his classes, which, to be honest, were only Hyunjin’s miserable attempts to initiate small talk. You just didn’t seem to check your chats anymore, which he found to be quite odd considering that, whenever he saw you, you would be staring at your phone with the biggest of smiles as you typed away.

It wasn’t until Yeji slipped up one evening, when their parents asked about you at dinner, that he found out the reason behind your sudden distance from him and the giddy smiles you’d get by looking at your phone.

“I haven’t seen Y/N around in a while,” their mother brought up. “How’s she been?”

“Oh, she’s doing well. Just… a bit busy, I guess” Yeji replied, taking a small bite of her food.

“You should invite her over for dinner this weekend” their dad proposed this time. “We were thinking of having a barbecue”.

“I think she’s going out with Mingyu on Saturday” Yeji tilted her head, pensively — completely oblivious to the way Hyunjin had just frozen next to her. “Maybe she could come over on Sunday for lunch? I need to hear all the details about her date after all”.

Clunk!

Everyone turned to Hyunjin, who remained frozen still, yet the metal spoon he had previously been holding in his hand was now laying on the floor, having slipped from his fingers the moment the word ‘date’ had made it past Yeji’s lips.

He quickly picked it up and placed it back on the table. Everyone went back to their previous conversation, like nothing happened. Like his heart didn’t feel like every single inch of it was being pierced right through.

You were seeing someone.

He was in love with you. He was finally of age and somewhat in the same stage in life as you. He was doing everything in his power to get closer to you and eventually win you over.

And you were seeing someone.

That night, Hyunjin went to sleep with a heavy chest and a buzzing head. Unable to understand why it hurt so much and why it wouldn’t go away.

It was later that month, on new year’s eve more specifically, that he finally knew what the heavy chest and the annoying pinch in his heart were hinting at.

“Y/N isn’t coming this year?” He asked his sister when he finally got the courage to, impatiently staring at the clock on the kitchen wall that pointed at the numbers 22:56.

“Oh my God, no, I forgot to tell you” Yeji laughed, placing her drink down on the table. “Mingyu asked her to be his girlfriend today. More like last night, but it was already past midn—”

Everything else after that was muffled by the sound of his heart breaking.

The sound inside his chest was so clear to him, so deafening, followed by an ache a hundred times more painful than the one he felt when he found out that you were merely seeing someone, that there wasn’t any room for him to ponder what it was that he was feeling.

Heartbreak. It was clear as day.

Agonizing, infernal heartbreak.

That night, it was followed by quiet tears, as he lied alone in bed and welcomed the new year with a broken heart.

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

The second heartbreak came a year and a half later, when he was torn between trying his best to move on and still not letting go of the nearly gone hope of the two of you being together at some point.

You and Yeji were in her room, and he was downstairs helping their mother set up the table for dinner.

He was trying his best to ignore the fact that you were there. He wasn’t ignoring you, of course — he could never. But you being there made him unable to focus on anything else, and he needed to focus on literally anything else but you.

Ever since you and Mingyu became official, you hardly ever interacted anymore. All his attempts during his first year of uni seemed pointless by then, long forgotten. He ignored the reason, but he guessed it had to do with you only making time for your boyfriend now. As far as he knew, the only two friends you actually made an effort to keep contact with were Yeji and Chan — all the rest, he had not heard from since a while ago. Then again, it wasn’t like you talked that much anymore for him to actually know anything about your life other than the bits he’d get from Yeji whenever she either slipped up in front of him or straight up gushed to him about you.

So, it wasn’t hard to understand that he’d be a little uneasy, jumpy even, whenever you visited.

And it wouldn’t take a genius either to imagine how much he dreaded the moment his mother asked him to go up to his sister’s bedroom and call the both of you to go downstairs for dinner.

But orders were orders, and so he made his way to the second floor, dragging his feet all the way up the stairs.

Before he could reach the last stair, however, he heard your voice coming out of Yeji’s room, being followed by his sister’s laugh as the two of you were now apparently standing in the hallway, about to make your way downstairs before he could tell you to.

He thought of just turning around and heading back into the kitchen, since he could only guess you were heading over there and therefore he didn’t need to tell you to anymore, but the words he heard coming from your mouth made him stand still in his place.

“Honestly, I can’t believe he took me to his hometown and I met his family already. They’re all so nice it felt like a dream” you beamed.

“Kinda makes you want to become a part of it?” Yeji teased you.

“Yeah…” your voice came out rather shy, and Hyunjin could tell you were smiling. “I barely talk to my family and they were so welcoming it made me feel at home. I don’t know, Yeji, I’m so in love with him and meeting his family made me realise how bad I want him to father my children”.

Hyunjin wanted to leave. He didn’t want to hear anymore. But his feet betrayed him.

“Yeah, let’s get some financial stability before that, shall we?” Yeji chuckled, footsteps sounding closer and closer to him.

“Shut up” you laughed. “Not now of course, but Mingyu’s it for me, I’m sure”.

Move. Hwang Hyunjin, leave.

“I guess I’m waiting for my invitation to your wedding then?”

You don’t wanna hear it. Move!

“Oh, I’m definitely marrying him one day” you giggled. “And you’ll be on bridesmaid duty, so if anything you’ll be the one helping me with the invitations”.

There it was again, the unbearable pain in his chest again.

If he were holding a spoon again, he would’ve dropped it all the way down the stairs by now. Hell, he felt like he could fall down the stairs anytime by now, as his knees felt like they were about to give up any second.

“Oh?” Yeji’s voice brought him back to his senses when it was too late for him to escape — the two of you now right in front of him, as he was blocking the way. “What are you doing here?”

“I was just coming up to call you guys downstairs” he replied in a heartbeat, not sure how he managed to speak without his voice breaking. “Dinner’s ready”.

Yeji nodded, giving you a quick glance before Hyunjin squeezed against the wall so he could make some room for the two of you to start walking down the stairs.

“Aren’t you coming?” You asked him, turning around midway, when Yeji was already on the first floor and you realised Hyunjin wasn’t moving at all.

“Uh, yeah” he managed to blurt out. “Just… need to get something from my room first. I’ll go right down”.

You nodded, sensing something was wrong, yet not finding it in you to ask him what it was.

This heartbreak was somehow worse than the first one, Hyunjin decided once in his room. First, he couldn’t cry and let it out until he fell asleep, managing to keep it from everyone else like he did back then, for his parents, his sister and you were waiting downstairs for him, and he was sure his mum would burst into his room within the next five minutes if he wasn’t with them by then. And, second, it felt final. The first heartbreak came when you started dating someone else, but this one was because you decided you had found your person, the very one you wanted to spend the rest of your life with, and it wasn’t him.

A few hot tears rolled down his face, and he harshly wiped them off before taking a deep breath and making his way back down, not ready at all to face you of all people, yet knowing well enough there was no hiding this time.

The rest of the evening was a blur to him. The only thing he remembered was remaining silent and hardly touching his food, later excusing himself when he felt like he couldn’t take it anymore, like he would break down right then and there if he stayed one more second in your presence, and then nothing.

A blur.

Any small glimpse of hope he managed to keep that past year and a half was now gone.

He couldn’t afford to be torn between moving on and waiting for you anymore, because you had made your choice, and it wasn’t him. It would never be him.

Your heart belonged to Mingyu, and he would have to finally come to terms with it.

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

Two other years had passed since Hyunjin decided to move on from you for good, and still, he was hardly there just yet.

He wanted to believe he was over you. He told everyone —that being Han and Minho, the only ones who knew he ever had feelings for you— that he was over you. But deep down, he knew he wasn’t.

In those two years, he tried to give relationships a try. Both times, unsuccessful — because no matter how much he progressed, any time he saw you, he would go right back to stage one.

His first girlfriend was Seoyun, a girl he met through a dating app. Not his proudest moment, but he needed to get over you and he needed to get over you fast. His intention was to go for something casual. Just date, date and date, as many people as he could, until he could finally move on from you; but he soon realised that casual flings just weren’t for him. If he wanted to stop loving you, he needed to love someone else, and Seoyun seemed like the best candidate for it.

They lasted three months, and although he tried his best, he couldn’t fall for her. Not in the way he fell for you. Definitely not in the way you had fallen for Mingyu, who was still getting all your devoted love as you seemed to be happier together by the day.

His second girlfriend was Nara, a girl from his calculus class. This time, she chased after him, and after a while he figured why not give her a chance. His feelings for you weren’t lessening any more and neither were yours for Mingyu, so he needed someone to help him get rid of them.

He realised it was unfair to her, but he tried. Just like with Seoyun, he really tried to love her. She was great. She was pretty, she was funny, and she was head over heels for him. She met you outside his family home one day when you and his sister were visiting and you loved her, to the point of proposing a ‘triple date’, including Chan and Yeji, since they were just then beginning to date. Yeji met her too, of course, and loved her as well.

And yet, he, the one person who so desperately needed to love her, couldn’t.

He was actually sure the day you met Nara was the moment he realised it wasn’t working out and it would never work out — when you proposed a triple date and he could only think of how fucking much it would hurt to sit there and watch you be all lovey dovey with your boyfriend, while his own girlfriend was right there with him.

They had recently turned five months together when it happened, and that was as much as it lasted.

Hyunjin gave up on dating entirely after that, at least until he could get one hundred percent over you. He couldn’t just try and —unsuccessfully— force himself to love someone else while he still loved you, for in the end he’d only end up using them for his own benefit, and he hated himself for it.

He could only put his faith in time now. People always said that time heals it all, and he was really counting on it to let go of you.

But then time passed and instead of it healing his heart, it broke yours.

You and Mingyu broke up overnight, and although Hyunjin should’ve been hopeful, happy even, over the news, he realised his lingering feelings for you were very much alive when, to his own surprise, he felt his heart break for a third time.

He was at Yeji’s that evening — being too bored at his shared place with Han, he decided to annoy his sister for a while and be bored at hers instead.

Hyunjin was looking for a snack in her kitchen, when a knock on the door caught his attention. He wondered whether he should ignore it since Yeji was taking a shower and he most definitely didn’t want to deal with strangers right then, but ultimately he walked over to it and looked through the peephole when the knocks became louder, only to see you on the other side of it.

The smile that formed on his face at the simple sight of you was gone the moment he opened the door and took in how miserable you looked.

If that alone told him something was wrong, when you didn’t perk up like you always did whenever you saw him and barely even acknowledged him as you made your way inside, he knew you weren’t thinking straight right then.

“Um… are you okay?” He carefully asked, closing the door behind him as he turned to you.

“Is Yeji home?” You asked instead, voice breaking as you looked around in search of your friend.

Hyunjin nodded. “She’s taking a shower. Shouldn’t take long”.

You nodded, and although you said nothing, the way your chest heavily moved up and down told him you were hyperventilating.

“Y/N…” he called you quietly, almost scared to ask. “Are you okay?”

Again, you said nothing.

“Do you need anything?” He came closer to you.

You shook your head no, blinking rapidly. “Yeji. I need Yeji”.

“Okay, okay…” he said as tenderly as he could. “She’s coming, just—“

“Can you tell her to hurry up? I’m just…” you took a deep, shaky breath; one that made him instantly alert over how clear it was you were finding it hard to breathe. He panicked when you grabbed your chest. “Oh, God, I’m—”

“Hey, I’m here” he said, grabbing your hands and holding them tight as ever. “What happened? Tell me what’s wrong”.

He could see it in your eyes that you wanted to tell him, but although you opened your mouth to let him know what was wrong, no sound came out of it and you ended up just closing it again.

You weren’t able to speak, so he did it for you.

“Did something happen with Mingyu?” He sounded almost scared to ask.

That seemed to hit the nail on the head.

You looked up at him, and he could only grow worried, infuriated, over all kinds of thoughts that ran through his head the moment your eyes welled up with tears.

“Did he do something to you?!”

Your bottom lip quivered.

The first tear fell.

“Hyunie…”

Then you broke down.

Burying your face in his chest, you tugged tightly at his hoodie as you finally let yourself go.

Although stunned and still trying to comprehend the whole situation, Hyunjin didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you, scared you’d collapse anytime by then.

It wasn’t like any other cry he’d heard before.

This was different. Your sobs sounded like you were in excruciating pain, like it was hard to breathe, and your chest trembling against his own with every cry of yours felt like it was being ripped open from the inside.

He could only hold you closer, somehow trying to ground you, but it was of no use.

“It’s okay, it’s okay…” he repeated over and over, almost inaudibly under your sobs.

You tried to speak, either to explain what happened or to simply let it all out, but you couldn’t.

You were choking on your own words, and Hyunjin felt his own eyes well up with tears as he hurt for you and felt hopeless as ever, being able to do nothing else but run his hand up and down your back in a poor attempt to soothe you.

When your cries wouldn’t stop after a minute, he whispered a small ‘come here’ before he gently guided you towards the sofa. Slowly, not to break away from your hold, he managed to sit both of you down on it.

Your face instinctively moved up from his chest to the crook of his neck, where you hid it as you tried to calm down your sobs — finding comfort in his familiar sweet scent and in the gentle touch of his fingers running through your hair.

“What did he do?” He asked when your sobs seemed to quiet down.

You shook your head no, tugging harder at the fabric of his hoodie.

“Y/N, please…” he begged, pulling you slightly away, only enough to look into your reddened eyes. “I need to know what he did so I can do something about it”.

“You c-can do nothing about it, b-because it was his—his choice” you sniffled.

“What do you mean?”

Your bottom lip trembled, and for a moment there he regretted asking you that. But he needed to know.

Then, you took a deep breath, opening your mouth for a second and then closing it — the words you were about to say being harder to voice out than you expected.

“He left me,” you spoke in a whisper after a few seconds, and Hyunjin felt his world stop. “He d-doesn’t love me anymore. He loves her. He left me for her, for the one girl I—”

You choked on your own words once more, being unable to speak over your sobs anymore, and so he just pulled you back to his chest, allowing you to just cry until you let it all out.

He hoped you couldn’t feel his blood boiling, because he was seeing red right then.

How dare he break your heart? How fucking dare he leave you for someone else?

He had been wishing to be in Mingyu’s shoes for years now, and he, who had you all to himself in every single way Hyunjin ever wished to, didn’t feel like it anymore?

For years he had unsuccessfully been trying to stop loving you because he knew he couldn’t have you, and Mingyu, the one who had you, stopped loving you? Just like that? Because of someone else?

Who could even fucking compare to you?!

“What happened?!” Yeji bursted into the living room, snapping him out of his thoughts — only a towel covering her poorly dried body and her wet hair leaving a trail of drops behind her. “I heard—”

Hyunjin motioned for her to keep quiet, silently letting her know that he got you and she could go change before coming back to comfort you. It seemed like it would be a long night after all, and neither of them were getting any sleep until you were better.

Many times he had wished Mingyu and you would break up, but not like this. Not with you feeling so worthless and taking the worst part of it.

Not with you feeling the same kind of pain he had felt two times by now, and making him feel it a third time while at it. Because seeing the person he loved with all his being in so much pain, could only break his heart all over again.

-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-♡

After that night, Hyunjin felt himself grow protective over you.

So, the moment he read your texts, the very ones that mentioned ‘Mingyu’, ‘spamming’ and ‘losing it’ in the span of three paragraphs, he knew he was coming to you. Now more than ever, when your two best friends were out of town and he was pretty much the only person left you had.

His mind was filled with the night you broke down in his arms, and he’d be damned if you ever broke down just like that again and he wasn’t there to hold you.

He knew what the past few months had been like for you, he had been there through it all. From the weeks you isolated yourself and lost weight due to the lack of appetite you experienced through your slump, to your self-loathing ways and your complete loss of self-confidence when it came to showing yourself to the world and comparing yourself to everyone else. Because one thing was to be broken up with, and a very different one was to be left for someone else.

He, Yeji and Chan had been there for you through it all, trying their best to bring you back up and finally feeling like they were succeeding at it.

He felt nauseous over the simple thought of you crumbling down all over again, all because Mingyu decided it would be appropriate to text you regarding your relationship after he was the one to break your heart in the first place.

Therefore, Hyunjin only felt like he could breathe when you were in front of him, having opened the door not even five seconds after he knocked on it, and you looked okay. Not perfect, as the red shade in your eyes and nose let him know you had indeed cried a few minutes ago, but okay regardless. Better than you were the last time you lost it over your ex.

“You okay?” He asked tenderly, entering your place when you moved aside to invite him in.

You nodded, closing the door behind you and waiting for him to take off his shoes before guiding him to the living room, where he found a red blanket lying on your couch and the third season of Attack on Titan playing on the TV in front of it — as expected.

“You really didn’t have to come, Hyunie…” you mumbled. “Talking on the phone would’ve done it, I didn’t mean to bother you”.

“Will you just… stop saying you’re a bother?” He couldn’t help but sound annoyed. “You’re not”.

“But—”

“You’re not a bother, Y/N. I wanted to come here. I want to be here, okay?”

“Okay…”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound so harsh, I just…” he sighed, coming closer to you. “You really worried me”.

“Sor—”

“And don’t you dare say sorry for worrying me” he warned you with a taunting smirk this time.

The corners of your mouth curved up at that, shaking your head in amusement before you quietly motioned for him to sit down on the couch.

Hyunjin didn’t wait to do as told, making the blanket aside so he wouldn’t sit on it, and revealing your phone under it for a moment before you took a seat next to him.

“Has he texted you anymore?” He couldn’t help but ask.

“No,” your answer gave him some peace of mind. “I said I’d block him otherwise, so he hasn’t insisted”.

Hyunjin opened his mouth to say something, but ultimately remained quiet. Still, you had managed to notice and didn’t let it slip.

“What?”

“Nothing” he shook his head.

“You were about to say something”.

“I just,” he shrugged. “Thought he’d be already blocked by now”.

You smiled weakly, grabbing your phone and placing it on your coffee table. “It’s delusional, isn’t it?” Your eyes fixed back on him. “I told him the only reason I haven’t blocked him is because we both work for the same company, but honestly I just haven’t been able to bring myself to do it”.

“It’s not delusional…” he fidgeted with the ends of your blanket. “It hasn’t been that long since you guys broke up after all”.

“I know… but given the way he left me and how I’ve seen him and Hayun together at work multiple times, I feel like I should hate him, or at least not love him anymore”.

“Oh…” he lowered his head, hurting at the idea of you still loving your ex. “So you’re still…”

“I’m trying not to,” you confessed — just like Hyunjin, refusing to say it out loud. “It’s just hard, but I’ll get there at some point”.

He nodded. “I can only imagine how hard must it be…”

“Was it hard for you?”

“Huh?”

“With Nara,” you clarified. “Getting over her…”

“Oh,” he bit his lip. “Not really…”

“It wasn’t?” You tilted your head in surprise.

He shrugged. “We only lasted five months…”

“Which is a lot?!”

He smiled bittersweetly. Sure, maybe to some people it was a lot, but it was nothing compared to the six years he had been in love with you.

Your question was being asked about the wrong person, because getting over Nara wasn’t hard at all, given the fact that he was never in love with her to begin with. Getting over you, however? Fuck, there was nothing harder than that.

He could only hope and pray that wouldn’t be the case for you with Mingyu.

“We ended it on good terms” he let you know. “We just weren’t working out. It was for the best, so there wasn’t much grieving, if I’m honest”.

“Hm…” you quietly lamented, staring down at your lap. “I mean, I’m glad you didn’t have a hard time moving on from her, but I guess I can’t ask you for tips on how to move on from someone now”.

He laughed under his breath. Honestly, he sucked at moving on. He was the last person you should come to for advice.

“I guess not… sorry” he apologized. “Time’s supposed to heal it all, though”.

Didn’t work for him so far, but he knew it was the case for most people. Hopefully it would be the case for you.

You chuckled. “Yeah, so I’ve heard. I would just like to speed the process”.

“You’ll get there eventually, don’t push yourself too hard” he offered a comforting smile. “I’m sure going zero contact and blocking him would help, though”.

This time, you couldn’t hold back a throaty laugh that had him quietly joining you right after. “You really hate his ass, don’t you?”

“I’m just saying…” he shrugged once again, trying to act nonchalant, yet failing miserably at erasing the smile curving up his lips. “What happened today wouldn’t have happened if he was blocked”.

“That’s a good point” you agreed.

“What did he even text you for again?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “He just wanted to check up on me, or so he said”.

Hyunjin shook his head in disappointment. “Sounds to me like he just wants to keep you in line”.

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows furrowed.

“Why text you the day before your anniversary? Why now?” He wondered. “It’s like he wants you to think about it and dwell on it. Like he wanted you to be upset so he could comfort you about it”.

You remained silent for a few seconds, carefully taking in his words.

“I want to believe he isn’t that much of an asshole…”

Hyunjin snorted, shaking his head once again, but this time in amusement. “He’s proved himself to be one more than once by now”.

“Yeah, I know…” you mumbled. “I just don’t get why he’d want to keep me in line now that he’s with her. I mean, he literally left me for her, and she’s so fucking pretty, I…”

“You’re prettier”.

Your eyes shot up to meet his, and he caught a small sparkle appearing in them before you shook it off and decided to joke about it. “Yeji really trained you well for this weekend, huh?”

“No, I mean it”.

“You haven’t even seen Hayun”.

“I have, though?” His eyebrows furrowed. He was there when you’d cry and show Yeji pictures of the girl Mingyu left you for, feeling his blood boil while at it. “She’s got nothing on you, you’re way prettier than her”.

“Hyunjin…”

“I’m serious, Y/N” he stood his ground. “It sucks that you feel inferior to her just because she’s with him, because honestly you’re a thousand times better. And considering she literally came in between your relationship with Mingyu, she’s ugly and unattractive as hell on the inside while you’re beautiful inside and out, so…”

To say you were speechless was an understatement. He was speechless as well, not having planned to go off like that, yet being unable to hear you bring yourself down once again when you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

For a moment there, he feared his feelings for you had been left out in the open for you to realise.

He was lucky you were dense as a brick and still somewhat emotionally unavailable to even think something of it.

“Wow, um…” you brought your hands up to cup your face, suddenly feeling hot. “My cheeks are burning, so I guess that’s enough break up talk for now”.

Although you were avoiding the topic, Hyunjin smiled, lowering his head to hold back a small giggle that threatened to come out of his mouth. He made you feel flustered, that was enough for him to be on cloud nine.

You stood up almost in a rush, looking for the remote before placing it on his lap for him to grab. “Why don’t you look for the summer camp arc while I go make us some tea instead?”

“Are you sure you want to switch to Haikyuu when Levi’s about to get more screen time?” He teased, knowing well enough that you, just like his sister, were a Levi girl.

Snorting at his remark, you motioned for him to go on with your previous order. “I have so many edits of my man saved, I can just look at him whenever”.

Hyunjin chuckled, shaking his head amusedly as he complied with your wishes and exited Attack on Titan to look for Haikyuu instead.

“Plus, Haikyuu’s got Kenma in it, so…”

“He’s a high school student” he pointed out.

“Are you calling me a cradle-snatcher?” You raised a questioning eyebrow.

This time, Hyunjin couldn’t hold back a giggle, finding the way your voice turned a pitch higher in offense to be a little too cute. “Your words, not mine”.

“Mind you, he’s a ‘95 liner” you pointed out, only managing to make him laugh harder. “He’s even older than me!”

“I didn’t even say anything” Hyunjin held both his hands up in defense, failing once more at trying to erase his smile.

God, you looked so cute right then, he couldn’t even be mad over the fact that you didn’t seem to fall for younger guys when it came to fiction either.

“We can skip on the tea if you want, so you can see your man sooner” he taunted, pressing play on the second season before you could leave the room.

Jaw dropping in both amusement and offense, you squinted your eyes at him. “You know, I was bringing you those cookies you love so much with it, but I’m not anymore”.

“The chocolate chip ones you make?” His head snapped back towards you.

“Mhm… I made a whole batch yesterday” you nodded, not missing the way his eyes lit up with excitement. “But you don’t deserve them anymore”.

“You’re not serious”.

“Oh, but I am” you smiled cynically, turning your back to him as you made your way to the kitchen. “Just stay there, I won’t take long”.

“No way, I’m coming with you” he stated, already following hot on your heels. “Those are my favourites, I’m not leaving until I’ve tried them”.

You chuckled, feeling him stand behind you while you turned on the kettle. “I guess I’ve got no choice then, because I don’t have a spare bed for you to sleep on”.

“I can always just crash on your couch, but I would appreciate not having to and getting to try your cookies instead”.

You laughed wholeheartedly, gently shoving him towards the cabinet. “Just go grab a plate, you dork”.

Doing as told, he couldn’t help but steal a glance at you and feel his heart finally be at ease, now that a genuine smile was plastered on your face and your eyes were no longer reddened and tired like they were when he just arrived, but smiling and playful instead. All thanks to him.

And one hour later, when your red blanket was being shared and covering your legs as the two of you sat down on your sofa, and your head was hovering over his shoulder and lightly tapping on it every five seconds, given you were miserably fighting against dozing off while looking at the TV, Hyunjin wished he hadn’t tried your cookies at all, so he’d have an excuse to keep his threatening words and not leave until he did.

He hoped you wouldn’t bring up how late it was and make him leave just yet.

He hoped you would just fall asleep on his shoulder and let him enjoy your closeness for a little bit.

Most of all, he hoped one day he would be able to come over late at night —or at any given hour— just because, not only because you needed him to and because his sister wasn’t in Seoul; and you would deliberately rest your head on his shoulder when you felt your eyelids become too heavy, and he wouldn’t have to wake you up once it got too late and it was time for him to leave, because he wouldn’t have to leave.

But for now, he would let you sleep for as long as he could without falling asleep as well, which wouldn’t be hard, considering he didn’t feel a single pinch of sleepiness as he rejoiced in the coincidental warmth of your body against his.

And if you happened to realise how wide awake he was once you woke up, he would blame it all on the sugar rush he got from all the cookies he munched on while being too immersed in the series.

Using yet another small excuse to be close to you wouldn’t hurt.

tag list: @jehhskz @iknowyouknowminho @doohnut @saintcosette @lailac13 @kayleefriedchicken @rikibun @yongbokkiesworld @seungzsmin @beautifulcolorgarden @hyunetopia @velvetmoonlght @automaticpersonabatpaper @httpdwaekki @brinnalaine @wondering-out-loud @feelikecinderella @nujeskz @amarecerasus @liknws @nhyunn @midsoulz @tirena1 @tinyelfperson @thatonexcgirl @iovecb97 @hynier @phenomenalgirl9 @your-favorite-pirate @jin-from-the-block @yearofthetiger25 @quokkacidal @stayconnecteed @kwanisms @yoonguurt @143hyunes @iiriam @curlytxe @hyunlvrs @allyrarara @machaandlofi @mehli-00 @justiceforvillains @minhosprettywife @whats-my-question @armystay89 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @hyeon-yi @skzstannie @onlyhyunjin @shyshyshytwice @nicoleparadas @​broken-glowsticks @sweetbokji @linavc

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 13 || The Unexpected

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, sexual tension, & smut.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 5.5k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——YOU RUSH OUT OF THE building completely flustered with an embarrassed expression written all over your face.

Perhaps after dealing with men who so easily compliment you and fell for your flirtatious traps you'd grown accustomed to not being turned down. Getting dismissed by a man like Toji Fushiguro isn't exactly something you planned for.

It won't stop you from showing up next week and trying again but it will leave you embarrassed and shamefully horny.

You strolled down the campus pathway, heading toward where your car was with your head stuck on what had just happened. The man seriously just told you to get out. You thought you had managed to seduce him at least a little but now you guess you were wrong.

So distracted with your thoughts of what just happened, you nearly miss as a familiar voice calls your name. Your lashes flutter as you blink a few times and look around the area to spot the man who'd called your name.

Your brows push together when you don't see anyone. Okay, now you're hearing things-

"Right here, gorgeous." Geto suddenly whispers into your left ear.

The sudden sound makes you jump and you move your hand to smack his chest for scaring you. He chuckles at your reaction and you give him an annoyed scowl.

"Suguru, don't scare me like that!" You huff.

Geto snickers at you, "Sorry."

A pout takes over your expression and the sight furthers his amusement.

"You're so cute," He hums, raising a hand to pinch your cheek. You immediately smack him off. "Oh c'mon, don't be like that. You didn't even send me a text after our date... How do you think that makes me feel?" He says with a sudden frown.

You blink. "Uh..."

"That's not nice, y'know. Leaving me all high and dry." Geto continues as he shakes his head at you.

"I just thought..." You trail off for a second and the man leans toward your face suddenly.

The words you were going to say fall off your tongue completely as Geto abruptly begins to study your facial expression.

"You alright?" He asks.

You try leaning away, "Yes, why?"

"You look..." His eyes narrow, "I dunno, horny?"

"H-Huh?" Your heartbeat spikes in alarm. If he can tell, does that mean Mr. Fushiguro was able to see that as well? "How the hell can you notice something like that?!" You question the man.

"Darling, I spent an entire night seeing you with that exact same facial expression. I don't think I'll be forgetting it anytime soon." Geto reminds you.

You grit your teeth slightly, "Is it... Is it that obvious?" You mumble.

The man in front of you grows surprised, eyebrows raising and a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. "I mean, to me, yes. Though, I wasn't expecting you to admit it so truthfully."

You freeze. Shit, you just told on yourself. "Uh.."

"No need to try lying about it now." Get said with a shrug. He then stands straight up, "What-, actually, who got you all worked up?"

"Uhm..." Your eyes dart off to the side. Why the hell would you tell him anything-

"Was it Mr. Fushiguro?" Geto guesses. He was going based on the building you just left and who was likely to be in there.

Your eyes fly right back over to the man, "How the fuck-"

"Did you forget that I know about the list...?" He reminds you with a slight chuckle.

"You..." A sudden thought rushes to your mind. "Holy shit, you do, don't you?"

"Yeah, so-"

"Shouldn't I be pissed with you right now?" You ask as you remember that Gojo said Geto had videoed you the night of your date.

He scoffs. "What for?"

"Didn't you record me??" You question.

For a moment, Geto stares at you as if he's contemplating something. Then he swallows, "Uh, no."

"No?? But Gojo said-"

"He lied."

"He..." Your head cocks back in surprise, "He what?"

"He lied. I never recorded you." Geto says honestly.

You scowl at the male, "Bullshit."

"When would I have had time to do that?" He scoffs, "I could hardly think straight with the way you were sucking my-"

You move a hand over his mouth and look to your left and right. "Shut up," You snap at the man. "No need to put our business out there like that..."

Geto chuckles beneath your palm before lightly taking hold of your wrist and pulling your hand away. "My bad. But seriously, when would I have recorded you? And if you want," He moves to pull his phone out, "You can check my phone."

You stare up at him, glance down at his phone for a second, then look back up at him. "You could've sent it to Gojo and then deleted it from your phone." You point out.

"True but, I didn't," Geto says.

You fold your arms, "And how am I supposed to believe you?"

"What reason would I have to lie?"

"I don't know."

"And what good would blackmailing you do me? I'm not Satoru." Geto tells you.

He has a point, but you're still unsure if you want to trust him. "You're his best friend though."

"We're two different people. Completely opposite of each other." He hums.

"Okay..." You say, batting your eyelashes at him. "That doesn't prove anything or make me want to believe you any more."

"Alright," Geto sighs, "What if I offer you comfort?"

"Comfort...?"

"I can only imagine how alone you feel in your situation."

Fuck, he's right. You swallow, "I..."

"You can't tell Shoko because you feel embarrassed, can't talk to Satoru because you 'hate' him, and I'm not sure if you know anyone else that you'd comfortably want to talk to about this." Geto points out flawlessly.

You simply stare at the man with hardly any response to that. He's right, after all, you have been feeling ridiculously alone in your predicament.

"I obviously can't make you believe me about not recording you but, you can trust me." He claims.

You remain unconvinced, "How do I know you're not trying to manipulate me like Gojo?"

"Because if I was trying to manipulate you, I would've done it already."

"Uhuh, sure you would've."

"I'm serious. I only approached you today because I wanted to talk to you about this."

"Yeah right."

"I don't know what Satoru has going on in that head of his but even a blind man could see that what he's doing isn't right."

Your eyes suddenly light up, "Are you saying you're going to help me out of this?"

"No."

"But... you could if you wanted to," You say as you raise a brow, "Couldn't you?"

Of course he could. All Geto has to do is tell you the truth about the situation. "What makes you think that?" He asks.

"Suguru..." Your eyes narrow and you lean closer to him accusingly, "You know something that could get me out of this, don't you?"

"N-No." Geto stammers.

"Liar."

"Alright, let's say hypothetically I did... I wouldn't be able to help you out without fucking myself over."

You blink. "Huh, how?"

"Do you really think Satoru is going to be happy with me ruining his fucked up little plan?"

"Well, probably not... But you're his best friend!" You emphasize, "He'll forgive you."

"Perhaps." Geto hums, "But I don't think you realize, you're not the only one Satoru's willing to blackmail."

"...He'd blackmail you too?"

"Maybe. And if not, he'd probably go out and tell people things about me I never intended on sharing..."

"Kinda like how you're a dirty little pervert?" You blurt out teasingly.

The man halts for a second, then he snickers. "Yes... Like that."

"Speaking of which... Do you still have my panties?"

"I do," He smirks and moves as if he were about to pull something out of his pocket, "Want em' back?"

"Y-You don't just walk around with them, do you?"

He laughs at your facial expression, "No."

You sigh, "Thank god. A-And yes I want them back."

"Come over one day and take em' from me." Geto taunts.

"Not happening."

"That's what I thought," He chuckles. "Anyways, back to what I was saying, you can trust me. I can't help you out of your situation directly but maybe I can help you through it."

"Really? You'd do that?" You ask, smiling at him slightly.

He stares at your expression, "Sure."

"Wait... in exchange for what?"

"Nothing."

"Liar."

"I'm not lying." Geto sighs, "Here, I can even suggest something for you."

"What?"

"Satoru's paying you right?"

"...Yeah?"

"Ask him if he'll pay you for each time you sleep with someone," Geto suggests.

"You mean like," An eyebrow raises, "If I sleep with someone more than once?"

"Mhm." He hums.

"But why would I sleep with someone twice...?"

He shrugs innocently, "I mean, right now you're horny and I'm standing right here..."

"I..." You blink, "Suguru do you want to have sex again? Is that why you're trying to help me?"

"Okay, no. That's not why I want to help you, though the sex would be a nice bonus... I've been thinking about how you probably feel." Geto says. You can feel the genuine care in his voice but you're still wary of trusting him.

"So, what, you wanna be my therapist?" You reply with a playful scoff.

He chuckles, "You sound just like him, y'know."

"Don't compare me to that asshole."

"Sorry. But if that's what you wanna call me, sure. I can be your therapist." He shrugs. "Now," Geto moves to toss an arm over your shoulder and pull you close to his side. He then tips his head down to your ear, "Tell me what has you so aroused right now?"

Steadily, the two of you begin walking together.

You swallow, "You want the details...?"

"Sure, why not?" He responds rhetorically.

"Pervert."

"C'mon, what happened in that classroom?"

With a roll of your eyes, you give in, "The professor is fucking hot, that's what."

Geto scoffs, "Yet I'm the perv."

"You are."

"But... you're the one fantasizing about a teacher fucking you..."

"I-I wasn't..."

"Really?" He smirks, "You weren't thinking about getting on your knees and being like 'please sir, just the ti-"

Heat rushes to your face, "Stop it."

Geto starts laughing at you, "Shit, I'm right aren't I? That's one of your dirty little fantasies, isn't it?"

"It's not."

"You can be honest with me, I won't judge."

"...Okay, so what if it is..."

He pauses his words for a second. The man's eyes are all over the side of your face as you keep your gaze forward. "I personally think that's hot," Geto tells you.

"Of course you do." You chuckle.

"What do you mean of course??"

"Slut."

He frowns, "That's your second time calling me that."

"You like it."

He falls silent.

"See? Can't even say you don't."

Geto abruptly whispers your name into the crown of your ear, his voice lower than you expected it to be. "Careful now, darling."

You scoff, "Why?"

"Cause, you're turning me on."

You swallow. Your lower lip gets caught between your teeth at his sudden claim and you can't ignore the fact that your arousal has yet to go away.

"You uh... Do you think Gojo will actually pay me for sleeping with someone twice?" You question, slowly turning your head to look at the man.

Geto meets your eyes and both of you have the same exact thing in mind. The tension was so very obvious.

He didn't need to say anything and neither did you.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

This was unexpected. You have no idea how you let yourself get in this position. Damn Geto and his way of convincing you to trust him.

Well, it's not a bad thing that you're trusting him. He made some very valid points, especially the one about him being the only one who knows about your situation and won't judge you for it.

Yet, none of that would've made you think you'd end up in the back seat of his car with his head in between your legs and his tongue deep in your cunt. Good god, the man eats you out like he'd be waiting to do so.

"Fuck Sugu," You breathed out.

The loud sounds of him sucking and slurping on your folds filled the car air. His tongue moved so sloppily over you, lapping up every drop of your wetness like there's no tomorrow.

It was all too much and too little at the same time.

"Tastes so fuckin' good," Geto groans, his voice vibrating against your clit and making your back arch off the seat slightly.

You've got your fingers tangled in that beautiful head of hair of his, unconsciously tugging at it every now and then. The way he'd wrap his lips around your sensitive bud has your lip quivering with moans pouring from your mouth.

Geto flicked his tongue over it and then shifted slightly to swirl the tip of his tongue around your clit. Those large hands over his were tightly gripping onto the underside of your thighs, keeping your legs spread no matter how much you squirmed beneath him.

He pulled his jaw back slightly and peeked up at you for a second before sticking his tongue out and pressing it flat against your wet cunt. Geto slides one of his hands up along your thigh while slurping your taste into his mouth.

Pulling away from your pussy with a loud pop, you hear him swallow. "You've gotta let me get these off you," Geto pleads, referring to the pretty lace stockings you had on.

"W-Why," You stammer as he moves to kiss over your sex.

"Mgh," He moans into you. "I n-need em'" Geto tells you, his voice desperate.

You were unaware but the man's cock was bulging against his pants and he'd been dry humping his car seat to get some kind of friction as he ate you out. You gasp as he moved to rub his thumb over your clit and his mouth focuses on your insides.

A breathy chuckle leaves you, "Need em' f-for what...?" You voice out in between a moan.

The man couldn't even respond to you as he needily worked to please you. Geto's tongue was buried so deep inside your pussy that you think you were starting to see stars. Along with his thumb, you felt his nose brush up against your clit as he pressed his face into your sex.

An arm draped over your mouth, "Y-You're makin' a mess... ngh, Sugu... hah..." You moaned out to the man.

You could feel the way he smiled at your words. The hand that's still on your thigh slides up and one of your stockings is suddenly stripped from you in an instant.

"Mmmgh... I know," He whispers. His face was so wet from you but he didn't care, simply shoving his tongue into your sopping hole regardless.

Confusion takes over your expression for a second but when Geto pulls away and spits on your cunt to further the sloppiness of it all, your brain fades to mush.

That one stocking of yours is soon used for the male to relieve himself. Another loud popping sound is heard as he pries his lips from you and lifts his head. His eyes are so low and lustful, his tongue hangs slightly out of his mouth, and the bottom of his face is coated in your slick.

Geto licks his lips, "Hah... I have class soon," He hums before sitting up.

Two of his fingers slot into you abruptly to make up for the lack of his mouth. "Hnngh... A-Ah, then why'd you w-want to..." Your words fade into a whine as he curls his digits up into your g-spot.

His other hand hastily works to free his cock from his clothes and you hazily watch him hold your stocking in his mouth for a second. After his dick is freed from restrictions, your cunt clenched around him at the sight of Geto using those stockings of yours to jerk off-- shamelessly moaning at the contact of the soft fabric to his shaft.

Your jaw drops at the sight, "You're so... f-fuckin' dirty," You say meanly, words going straight to the man's cock.

Geto tosses his head back, one hand working to please you and the other moving to relieve himself simultaneously. "F-Fuck, mgh... keep, shit, keep talkin' to me like that." He requests.

The fingers thrusting inside you increase in pace and you feel a thumb swat over your clit. "Ha-ah, you're so nasty Sugu..."

"Yeah?" He flashes a smile, "Fuck, 'm gonna cum if you keep degrading me like that."

"Mm-mmh... look at you, ngh-, getting off with my stocking..." Your eyes roll back a little, "So filthy-, fuck." You squeak out as your climax approaches.

"Agh," Geto groans, the jerking motion of his hand growing faster as his precum smears along his length.

The situation was so lewd-- Geto jerking off with a clothing item that'd just been wrapped around your leg for hours and his free hand eagerly fingering you as he did so. Your legs steadily drew together while the squelching sound of his two thick fingers plunging into you hit your ears.

It sounded so messy and sloppy. Your moaning and Geto's groaning were filling the car and fogging up his already tinted windows.

Your orgasm crashed over you when the male swiveled his digits around inside you. His eyes were on yours as you did so, large hand pumping his cock with vigor at the sight of you.

"Oh f-fuck," Geto moaned, his voice slightly pitched.

Your eyes were glossy as your orgasm died down but you clearly saw as the man slid his fingers out of you and brought them up to his mouth. You watch those pretty eyes of his rollback once your taste is on his tongue again and he groans against his fingers as he too reaches his peak.

Geto sucks your slick off his own fingers and cums hard into his hand and all over your stockings. The sight of his body shuddering slightly and a string of saliva connecting from his fingertips to his lower lip as he pulls his hand away from his mouth is something you drink in entirely.

You carefully shut your legs and innocently stare at the mess the man has made of himself. "You're gross..." You say teasingly.

"Hah," He pants slightly and glances over to you, "Am I?"

"You just came all over my stocking..." You say with a scoff, "Perv."

"S'that your new nickname for me or something?" Geto asks.

"Yeah, it is." You say with a sigh. After which you shut your eyes and grin, "Gojo better pay me for this or you're in trouble."

"I'm sure he will." He responds simply.

"If he doesn't..." You begin moving to sit up, "You'll owe me."

"Oh, so you're a full-time whore then?"

"N-No but... I need the money," You mumble.

Geto looks down at the nasty mess he's made of himself and chuckles, "I'll pay you if you come clean me up."

You blink, "Are you serious...?"

"Maybe."

You think about it for a second but when you look down at the pitiful sight of your cum covered stocking wrapped around his length, you frown.

"Nah, I'm good." You say simply.

Geto rolls his eyes, "You're no fun."

And with that, the two of you respectively begin to clean yourselves up. You ended up texting Gojo and asking him that question of yours. To which he responded with a bunch of follow-up questions regarding if you had just slept with his best friend again.

When you told him yes, he ended up leaving you on read and simply sending you more money. A smile had grown on your face when you realized that fact bothered him to the point where he couldn't even respond to you.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Knowing that you could hook up with anyone on the list more than once and still get paid for it was something that oddly made you quite happy.

Over the course of the next few weeks, you did two things. First, you and Geto ended up talking more than you expected to. He'd give you decent advice on how to seduce Toji and you used every bit of it.

Secondly, you attended that one class and endured a private lesson every Monday while getting riskier and riskier with your flirting.

Each lesson ended relatively the same nonetheless, Toji would say that it's been enough time the very second you had this certain look in your eyes. He learned to steal himself for the way you look at him or the questions you may ask and ever since that one time, he's never allowed you to tempt him again.

You used every ounce of advice that Geto continuously gave you-- maintain your posture, give him bedroom eyes, respond in ways that make the man feel like he's in control, etc. Surprisingly, Geto's advice was really good.

You notice subtle changes every time you use his suggestions and you're pretty sure it was all working. Slowly but surely, Toji was growing closer and closer to crossing that line with you.

After that spontaneous hook-up you had with Geto, you found yourself doing it a few times actually. It was always random and sometimes you didn't even bother to ask Gojo for money because having a fuck buddy was kinda fun.

And no, you didn't forget about the walking green flag that is Choso Kamo. The two of you went from texting every few days and a few phone calls to texting every single day and multiple phone calls. Although you couldn't tell him about the list, you were growing very close to him in terms of friendship.

In your mind, you had Geto to rant to about the list and Choso to talk to about anything else. You had started to feel comfortable in your situation. Well, to a certain extent of course.

There was always this little voice in the back of your mind screaming every time you flirted with Mr. Fushiguro but aside from that, you were slowly getting more and more into this role of yours.

You still actively ignored Gojo unless it was about the list, Geto was a good fuck every now and then and he'd listen to you complain whenever you needed to, Choso was just this little ball of sunshine who you wanted to avoid hurting at all costs, and Toji was...

Okay well, the man was completely fine up until the fourth week of your lessons with him.

It was the first and only time you had arrived late. You missed the entire lecture and arrived at his classroom just as the man seemed to be packing up to leave.

Toji was standing at his desk grabbing a few things but he paused when you came rushing into his classroom. Your breathing was heavy, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to regain oxygen in your lungs.

Your eyes were noticeably low, your face flushed with emotions, and your top was noticeably undone. With your hands on your knees and your body hunched over slightly, you panted heavily to catch your breath.

"M-Mr. Fushiguro, I... hah, I'm sorry I'm l-late." You huffed out.

The man was quiet as he stared at you. Slowly, you stood straight up and began to fan yourself off.

"Fuck," You curse. "Sir it's so hot in here."

Toji blinked at the sight of you slightly sweaty and still out of breath. With a scoff and a light shake of his head, he turns and takes a seat at his desk. "Did you run here or somethin'?" He asks, voice deep and husk like always.

You nod your head, "Y-Yeah."

Was that entirely true? No, but, you weren't going to tell him that.

As you look at the older man you notice that his gaze is slowly trailing down your body. That little stockings and skirt combo is hugging your body again and you don't miss the way Toji oggles the sight of you.

As his gaze rises back up, it comes to a pause at your chest and he raises an eyebrow at you. You blink and look down at yourself, noticing you've got more buttons undone than intended to.

"Shit," You whisper while raising your hands to fix yourself, "Sorry Sir."

"You're fine." The man says. "Sure you still wanna' interview me today?" He asks.

You nod your head again and glance up to look at him as your fingers work against your shirt, "Yes. I know I came late but I'm here now."

Toji moves to rest his elbow on his desk, propping his arm up and resting his cheek against his knuckles. "Care to explain why you were late?" He questions.

You freeze. "U-Uhm."

How are you supposed to tell him that you were late because you were too busy sucking Geto off in his car and almost completely forgot about these lessons of yours?

"Uhm?" Toji mocks, raising an eyebrow.

"Traffic." You result in telling him before looking back down at your shirt.

You began to struggle with one of the buttons and it was starting to frustrate you, especially since you left Geto completely untouched and now you're all hot, horny, and frustrated.

Toji's eyes narrow in on the messy state of your shirt. You looked more disheveled than you realized. "Traffic, huh?" He hums.

"Mhm."

"Traffic's got you all messed up like that?" The man quizzes further.

Again, your body freezes. Your sights slowly rise back up and over to him, "Y-Yes Sir..."

He scoffs and you watch his hand raise. Toji beckons you over to him with two fingers. At first, you don't move. Then, after the slight stutter in your brain, you carefully walk over to him.

Toji's seated comfortably in his chair and peers up at you in front of him. He tilts his head to the side and nods his chin at your chest, "Need some help?" He offers.

You're not sure why his words make you shift around where you're standing. "U-Uh... yes." You murmur.

"Yes, what?" He taunts.

The words slip out of your mouth faster than you wanted them to, "Yes please."

Toji smirks and then sits up. It's so slow and teasing how his large hands rise up along your body, just barely grazing you before he reaches your chest. The man stares for a second and then flicks his gaze up to you.

You watch his fingers latch onto the buttons and he too struggles to fix your shirt properly. Something in your head tells you that he's struggling because of the angle he's at so, your body moves before you think about it.

You take another step forward and move so that one leg is planted in between his larger ones. The upper half of your body leans forward into the man's touch and you place a hand on the armrest of the chair to hold yourself up.

Then, to take it further, you lift the leg in between his and push your knee into the chair. You grow dangerously close to his crotch but you pretend not to notice it.

Toji bats his eyes at the sight of you over him. Your tits are practically in his face and he can smell the freshly sprayed perfume oozing off your body. The fingers he had on those buttons of yours slip off of you and he sits back in his chair.

You swallow, "S-Sorry is this..." You start moving back.

Toji licks his lips before saying, "Did I tell you to move?"

Your body halts all movement in an instant. He smirks at your sudden obedience. The man weighs his head to the side while looking up at you.

Those seemingly hazel eyes of his narrow at you, "Let's do somethin' a little different today." Toji suggests.

You remain over him, "Different l-like what?"

His legs spread further apart and you don't miss the way his hips roll upward as he adjusts himself in his chair. The sight alone makes the annoying throb in your core continue. Toji doesn't lay a finger on you just yet, simply gazing up at you.

"I want you to tell me about yourself today."

"H-Huh?"

"It's been four weeks and I've hardly learned anything about the woman interviewing me," Toji points out. He then tilts his head, "How's that fair?"

You blink dumbfoundedly, "Well... I didn't think it was uh, necessary for you to learn much about me."

"It's probably not but," A slow hand rises slightly and his fingertips graze the end of your skirt playfully. "I am curious."

"Why?" You ask, chuckling nervously.

His eyes drop down to where his hand is and you feel two of his fingers move to pinch the fabric of your skirt. "Every week you show up in a similar outfit and ask me all kinds of questions. And the one thing I've noticed is that somehow," Deep colored eyes snap back up to your face, "The questions always turn into something sexual."

"Well I've said it before Mr. Fushiguro, those questions-"

"Make your project better, yeah, yeah, I know." He cuts off. "But if that's the case, why don't you just find out the answer to some of those questions yourself?"

You swallow, "What do you mean...?"

"Last week you asked me about my kinks." Toji recalls casually, "Why don't I demonstrate one on you?"

Your whole body is hot and needy at the very idea of what he's suggesting. The look in your eyes is unavoidably lustful and the man could clearly see from the moment you'd walked in that you were unusually flustered.

"D-Demonstrate?" You repeat innocently.

"Yeah, how's that sound?" Toji asks, looking for your consent. "You can tell me no if I'm misinterpreting all those looks you've been giving me-"

"No, no," You cut off, "I wanna do it, sir."

Toji's cock twitches at the sultry sound of your voice and the words you just uttered.

That painfully attractive smirk of his appears, "Yeah?"

You nod your head, "Mhm."

Okay, this is not how you intended things to go today. It was supposed to be another day of you flirting and asking more suggestive questions but, this works out for you anyways. Not only are you shamefully wet because of the way Geto was moaning and praising you not too long ago but you also can't help but feel so very needy for the touch of Toji Fushiguro.

His hands are so large and veiny, you want them all over your body. You crave for this professor to manhandle you and fuck you til' you can't think straight.

"Alright then," Toji sighs, sitting back in his seat. His eyes then focus on your own with complete seriousness, "Sit."

You hesitate. Glancing around the area, you wonder if he was referring to a nearby seat or something.

Toji chuckles at the clear confusion in your eyes but then he bobs his leg one good time to gesture where he was talking about. "Right here, pretty girl." He directs.

You slowly look down at his large leg in between yours, "O-On your leg, Mr. Fushiguro?"

"My thigh. Sit." He orders.

Embarrassment was coursing through you. Surely if you sat on his thigh, he'd feel the mess you are in your underwear.

You swallow, "Why...?"

Toji snickers at your hesitance. "I wanna watch you get off on my thigh."

You think you feel your cunt throb as his words hit your ears. The thought alone is dizzying.

"So," He continues, moving a hand to your lower back and lightly tapping you. "Sit."

Finally, you do just as he's instructed. As you seat yourself on his thigh, you feel so jittery and nervous. You're soaked right now and you just know he can feel it.

When Toji sees you've made yourself comfortable, he moves his hand to your chin and grabs a light hold of it, "Good girl." He praises.

You think you had to bite back the moan that wanted to escape you in reaction to the praise alone.

The leg in between yours suddenly lifts into you slightly, making your lips part and a breathy noise leaves you. "Now," Toji takes his hand off you and stares at the full sight of your smaller body resting atop his thigh. "Go on, lemme watch you fuck yourself on me."

GOJO SATORU ✔︎

GETO SUGURU ✔︎

TOJI FUSHIGURO ☐

KAMO CHOSO ☐

NANAMI KENTO ☐

??? SUKUNA ☐

??? NAOYA ☐

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

[endereies]

JERSEY - MS

No Nut November - Day 15

NNN Masterlist...

-➤ You show up at Matt's hockey game wearing his jersey.

Hockey ran through Matt’s life, no one ever tried to take that away from him. Starting in high school only gave him the push needed to be a professional. Somewhere in between all that chaos, he met you. You weren’t a skater by any means. Matt would sometimes spend his extra practise time, teaching the baby deer how not to stumble.

However, during the final playoffs, the tension in Matt’s body was evident and had been for weeks. When he was tensed, he grew quiet, and the extra practice wasn’t giving him any confidence either. After a few times of being ignored over text, you learnt to steer clear. Causing issues now would only affect how he played, and you knew how important this was to him.

The car ride there was deafening in silence. You willed Matt to drive, hoping that the concentration on the road would help him in anyway. It didn’t. The road rage was intense as he yelled at cyclists and slow drivers.

The placement of your hand attempted to shift to his thigh, in hopes of calming him down. Yet, when he flinched, your hand drew back to your lap, playing with the tassels of your sweats.

One thing you hoped would help was your presence. On average, you never had time to travel the long distance to his games and stay to support as much as you wanted. You hated not being able to show just how much he meant to you at every game, but it was something you both knew early on into the relationship.

Arriving at the stadium was just as quiet, until the door slammed shut. You followed suit, a little quieter than him and met him around the driver’s side of the car.

“You got everything, baby?” you peeked your head around the door while he threw his bag on his shoulder.

“Yeah, s’all here.” He bristled at your words, not holding much eye contact.

You leant onto your tiptoes to kiss his cheek “You got this, Matt. You always do.” It was obvious that he needed those words to simmer his mind, but it was still going at a thousand miles per hour.

“Thanks baby.” He relaxed his tone and gave you another kiss before walking off to the entrance, the last he thought he’d see of you that day.

Pretending to move the car was easy enough, you just couldn’t be seen if you wanted this to work. Once inside, you found his brothers standing by the food stalls, grabbing their food before turning in your direction.

“y/n! you made it!” Nick placed the drinks on the counter and hugged you tight, swaying your body. Chris, however, had all the food balanced so you agreed on a proper introduction later.

“Of course I did, I’ve had this day booked off for weeks now.”

“Good thing, Chris didn’t forget the main event then huh.” Your eyes shined when Nick spoke. You had this idea planned with the brothers that you would appear at his final show wearing his jersey. They managed to ‘misplace’ one of them and bring it with them to the show. “You guys are the best”

“It’s at our seats with Justin and mom, c’mon, better go before Matt somehow sees you.”

The seats were unlike any you were used to, front row in the VIP stands. Any other circumstances and you were among the crowd. You gawked at the luxury of the seats before sitting next to the rest of Matt’s family.

That’s where the jersey was showed to you. It was obvious it was Matt’s with the sizing of it, different to yours. The black and yellow made your features pop in the best way and you were hoping the plan would go well. You slipped it on over your shoulders, embracing the immediate smell of Matt as it hit you.

The players all stormed onto the ice, lights flashing inn the crowd as they circled the rink. Matt wasn’t himself; anyone could see just how stiff his body was compared to his teammates. Until he laid eyes on the VIP stands. He was glancing to originally see his family cheer him on, but when he saw you, that was forgotten.

He ignored the plan to greet the fans, breaking off course into your direction. If the bold yellow hadn’t made an appearance already, it had now. In mere seconds he was right in front of the stands, the wall blocking him from you. Once he cleared the wall, you both met halfway in a tight embrace, his stick in abandon on the floor. You looked down to see it wrapped in your favourite colour.

“You came? Shit, I wasn’t aware you were coming.” Nick and Chris fist bumped each other behind you two as Matt only hugged you tighter. His helmet was quickly discarded, getting his head nuzzled into your neck.

“Is this my jersey babe, the one Chris said was ‘at my practice rink’”

“Maybe, I’ve had this whole thing planned for about a month. You’ve been so stressed with hockey lately; I thought this would help.” He shut you up instantly with a harsh kiss to your lips, his grin evident throughout.

“Fuck, no I actually needed this. A lot. I was mostly pissed off that you couldn’t make it, I wanted you here so badly, babe.” His words were music to your ears, his posture deflating in your arms.

“You better get your ass back on that rink and win, alright.”

“Anything for you. I’ll be back with a trophy.”

@melliflws @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckerrss @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris @colorthecosmos444 @anabethinking @zay-sturns @anyaa2s @emilyfaith2003 @zariyamitchell-blog @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @sturniolosiphone @slutf4rmatt @flouvela @lovesturni0l0s @2prcntmilkluvr @ribread03 @dirtykneesz

© ENDEREIES 2024

[sheerfreesia007]

Little Book of Love

Pairing: Seungmin x Reader

Word count: 2,555

Content warnings: Fluff

Summary: Seungmin enjoys his journaling time and loves the fact that he’s found a close friend that enjoys it just as much as he does. But what happens when he realizes that you’ve got two different types of journals and won’t show him what you write about? 

The quiet chirping of some birds in the nearby tree to his balcony soothes Seungmin as he sits at the table lazily writing about his day and the things he found important for him to remember in his journal. The sun was still high enough in the sky to give him enough light to be able to write and he found himself gently closing his eyes as he listened to the quiet busy noises of everything around him. He smiled softly as he heard the scritching of your own pen against paper before he turned his head to look at you. You were sitting curled up in a chair not far from his, your knee drawn up to your chest with your own journal resting on your knee while you quickly wrote about your own day. He sat there soaking in the peace between the two of you as he watched your pen move swiftly across the page. He loved that he was able to share this hobby with you and you enjoyed it almost as much as him, it was something he had come to cherish about your friendship. The way the two of you were able to just exist in the quiet as you wrote your thoughts on how life was going, it was something that he wasn’t able to find with anyone else and he knew it was special with you.

Just as he was about to open his mouth and ask you what you were writing so swiftly about, he watched in surprise as you shut the journal and slipped it into your backpack before pulling out a separate journal and begin writing slower in it almost as if you didn’t feel rushed to write in this journal as opposed to your other one. He watched as your eyes darted around the page and a soft smile slipped onto your lips pulling the corners up into something so pretty. Flinching at his thoughts he quickly shook his head before nonchalantly speaking.

“I didn’t know you had two journals.” he said softly and your head whipped up to stare at him wide eyed before you ducked your head in embarrassment. He tilted his head to the side curiously at your reaction and he wondered what the other journal was for and why would you need two journals.

“Oh yeah, one is my regular journal for my day to day stuff and the other one is special.” you tell him cryptically and he frowned softly as his eyes focused shrewdly on you. “And no, I won’t be telling you what it’s for. So don’t ask.” you tell him primly already knowing that he’ll ask you about it. He huffs softly at you before pouting as he widens his eyes and you laugh loudly at his antics. “Stop with the puppy eyes. You know it doesn't work on me.” you told him dismissively before turning back to your journal and continuing to write in it.

“Then can I see what you write in your regular journal?” he asked curiously, hoping that you’d let him but ultimately knowing that you wouldn’t. Your journal was private and sacred to you just like his was to him, you never asked to see his journal and until now he never asked to see yours. But the fact that you had two separate journals made him desperate to know what you wrote about that required two.

“No.” you scoffed offendedly and he quickly raised his hands trying to placate you. He knew he overstepped as your eyebrows furrowed darkly over your eyes.

“Sorry, just a shot in the dark.” he said quickly and you huffed at him. “I know, I know. I shouldn’t have asked. But I want to know why you have two journals.” he said imploringly as he stared at you.

“Get it out of your head. Just forget you saw it.” you told him with a shake of your head before you returned back to writing in your journal Seungmin leaned back in his chair and continued to watch you before he heard your alarm start to ring and he frowned softly knowing that you would have to leave now. You finished up your last thought before gently shutting your journal and slipping it into your backpack. Standing from your chair you stretch your arms out to either side of your body and arc your back groaning softly when you hear it pop. Seungmin stands also knowing that he won’t be able to keep you here tonight, you’ve got too much going on tomorrow and you have an early morning tomorrow.

You smile warmly up at him causing him to roll his eyes at you before opening his arms to you. You chuckle softly and quickly step up to him wrapping your arms around his waist as you rest your face against his chest. Seungmin wraps his arms around your shoulder before squeezing you tightly making you cry out in surprise and delight. You try to struggle against him but he chuckles darkly into your ear as his arms keep you held close to him.

”Nope, you wanted this so accept your fate.” He said amused as you tried again to struggle out of his hold. When you find that he won’t let you go you melt against him smiling and Seungmin smiles as well as he loosens his hold slightly before resting his head on top of yours. He wonders if you feel as light and happy as he does in this very moment as he gently closes his eyes listening to the chirping birds as he hugs you close before he has to say goodbye.

*-*-*-*

Over the next couple of months whenever you and Seungmin hang out no matter what the two of you wind up doing the hang outs always end the same. You both sit together in peaceful silence while you both journal about your days. And he always notices the different journals, you try to hide them from him but he notices one has a deep navy blue cover that’s dotted with gold flecks almost like stars in the night sky and the other one is a simple brown leather bound journal that seems to have been used so often the leather is buttery soft and flexible. He thinks the brown one is your regular journal and the navy blue is the special one used for a different purpose but he doesn’t know for sure. He wants to ask again why you would need two journals but he’s learned after the first time not to ask again.

It’s the week in between his birthday and Jisung and Felix’s birthdays, he knows the guys are planning a special birthday dinner for him, Jisung and Felix to celebrate all together this year since all of their schedules are all over the place and they don’t have many overlapping days. He’s already asked Chan if it would be alright to invite you as well as his guest and the boys all teased him heartily for wanting to invite you, but Felix had come to his rescue and said he’d also like to invite you, shutting the boys up as they all agreed.

As he checked his outfit once more in the mirror he sighed softly, feeling as if the black button up shirt didn’t sit well on his shoulders. Felix walked past his open bedroom door and halted in his steps when he spotted Seungmin standing in front of his mirror frowning. Seungmin watched him through the mirror as he came to lean against his doorway and cross his arms over his chest as he eyed Seungmin critically.

“You know she’ll love whatever you wear. She doesn’t care about the clothes, she cares about you.” Felix said knowingly as he smirked softly as Seungmin as the man blushed softly.

“It doesn’t feel right.” Seungmin admitted and Felix shook his head before he stepped into Seungmin’s bedroom and over to stand in front of the worried man. He reached up and popped the top two buttons and laid the fabric out on his chest so that it hung looser at the top showing off some skin.

“Try that, it won’t feel as strangling.” Felix suggested as he patted Seungmin on the chest a few times. “But you have nothing to worry about. I promise.” Felix said confidently and Seungmin sighed softly before nodding his head. He knew he was being silly but something felt different about tonight and he couldn’t put his finger on it. There was something in the air, some sort of tension or excitement.

The car ride to the restaurant was fun, all of them had piled into the car and they were all being their normal loud crazy selves as Seungmin checked his cell phone for any text messages from you. You had let him know when you had gotten out of work and had told you’d get ready quickly before meeting them all there but ever since that text he hadn’t received anything else from you. Suddenly feeling a weight against his side Seungmin looked up into the warm sparkling eyes of Chan who had a wide knowing grin on his face.

“Is she on her way?” he asked softly and Seungmin frowned softly before shrugging his shoulders.

“How do you know I’m checking for her messages?” Seungmin asked petulantly and Chan scoffed softly while his grin widened on his face.

“C’mon Seungminnie, we all know you’ll be checking for her messages until she gets there.” Chan teased softly and Seungmin rolled his eyes at him before huffing quietly. Just then his phone dinged and he quickly looked down at his phone to see your text come through making the tight feeling in his chest relax slowly. On my way birthday boy! I can’t wait to see you!

“She’s on her way.” Seungmin said softly and Chan grinned widely before nodding his head at him.

“Good, I’m glad.” Chan responded before patting Seungmin’s knee.

*-*-*-*

The restaurant has a warm cozy feeling to it as they are led to the back into a large room where a long table is set up for all of them to sit and eat at. Seungmin walks in and gets settled in a chair halfway down the table on one side, Jeongin takes the seat next to him and then Seungmin sets his jacket on the other chair next to him just as Changbin is walking over towards him.

“Yah! What is this saving seats?” he asks loudly and Seungmin blushes lightly as everyone turns to him at Changbin’s loud words.

“Don’t be jealous Changbin, it’s not a good look for you.” your voice rings out loud enough for everyone to hear and Seungmin perks up with happiness when he whips his head to watch you walk in. You quickly greet Jisung and Felix, giving them each a quick hug wishing them a happy birthday before handing them small gift bags. You then turn and walk proudly over to Seungmin and envelope him in a tight warm hug that he melts into happily. When you pull away you present him with a slightly larger gift bag and an eager smile. “Happy birthday Seung” you tell him happily as he takes the bag from you.

“Thank you.” he gushes softly as a blush dusts his cheeks.

The dinner is lively and such a warm celebration of the birthday boys that Seungmin finds himself losing himself in the camaraderie and the happy feeling of having everyone around to celebrate him, Jisung and Felix. Once dinner is finished and everyone is relaxed, full and happy he turns to you and finds you laughing at something Hyunjin is telling you from across the table. He sits there silently just watching you before her jerks in his seat when he feels your hand grab his under the table, another blush dusting his cheeks lightly.

“Alright, so I think it’s time for the birthday boys to blow out their candles and open their gifts!” Chan calls out happily as everyone cheers in agreement. Three small cakes are brought out and everyone sings a cheerful Happy Birthday to them all while Seungmin hears you sing his name last as you lean into his side happily. Once the cake is divided and handed out he then reaches down to the floor to grab your gift bag, he peers into it and when he spots the journal inside he whips his head up to stare at you wide eyed as you smirk softly at him.

He gently pulls out the navy blue journal with the gold flecks and looks at you surprised and shocked. The boys all glance at him curiously due to his reaction to your gift. Changbin even leans over to ask you quietly what’s with the notebook. It’s your special journal. Frowning softly, Seungmin wonders why you were gifting it to him before he’s suddenly opening it with eagerness, dying to know what it was you have been writing inside of it. On the inside page are the words Things I wish I had the courage to say to your face. He tilts his head to the side before slowly turning the page and his breath is instantly stolen from him as his eyes dart around the page avidly. Filling the page are free formed loving, funny and sweet thoughts that you’ve had about him in the last year of your friendship. As his eyes travel over the words and his hands turn the pages he can feel his heart start to skip beats as he realizes that he’s reading exactly how your feelings developed for him.

Nobody is perfect, but you’re pretty darn close, sticks out to him and he grins wildly at the words written there. I can’t believe how not sick of you I am, makes his chuckle softly to himself before his eyes land on another thought you’ve had about him. I absolutely adore you and can’t imagine my life without you in it. I wish you could see yourself as I see you and I wish I could tell you this to your stupidly handsome face. 

When he looks up at you, your face is a pretty blushing mess as your eyes are downcast towards the table, he’s shocked to his absolute core that you could have these types of feelings for him. Not to mention finding the courage to give him a notebook full of these thoughts and feelings. His heart races in his chest as his hand reaches over towards you and cups your face gently guiding you to look at him. He sucks in a sharp breath when your eyes stare at him with wariness shining through.

“I love you too.” he whispers to you as he stares into your eyes, finding joy blossoming in his chest when he sees your eyes fill with love and adoration for him before he leans forward and presses his lips to yours sweetly. Cheers rise around the table as Jeongin makes a comment of bewilderment about what Seungmin thinks he’s doing. “I will cherish this gift for years. May even tell our future kids about how their Mom made the first move.” he says cheekily and you grin widely at him before kissing him once more.

SKZ Taglist: @intartaruginha, @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin, @simpforleeknaur, @inlovewithstraykids

[scoupsakakitty]

Where Friendship Meets Fate | idol!Mingyu x reader | fluff

The smell of sizzling meat filled the air as the group gathered around the grill, the small Korean BBQ restaurant bustling with energy. Y/N sat next to her childhood friend Dino, who had been hyping up this get-together for weeks.

“You’re going to love my hyungs,” Dino had promised with a grin when he’d invited her. “They’re fun, easy to talk to, and kind of chaotic—but in a good way.”

Now, Y/N was finally meeting them: Vernon, who exuded coolness but had an unexpectedly goofy side, DK, who was radiating sunshine with every word, and Mingyu, the tall, handsome guy sitting to her right. From the moment they introduced themselves, Y/N could tell that Dino hadn’t been exaggerating.

“Y/N!” DK exclaimed as she reached for the tongs to flip the meat. “Wait, wait! Let Mingyu do it. He takes grilling way too seriously.”

Mingyu, who was in the middle of pouring himself a drink, raised his eyebrows. “Excuse me? I’m not that bad.”

“You literally Googled the perfect grilling technique last time,” Vernon deadpanned, taking a sip of his soda.

“And let’s not forget the meat thermometer incident,” Dino added, smirking.

“Hey, that was one time!” Mingyu protested, taking the tongs from Y/N with a mock sigh. “Fine. I’ll do it. But only because I want us all to eat perfectly grilled meat.” He looked over at Y/N and gave her a wink. “You’ll thank me later.”

Y/N laughed, leaning back in her seat. “You sound like you’re auditioning for a cooking show.”

“That’s because he thinks he’s a professional chef,” Vernon teased.

“Let him be,” DK chimed in with a grin. “We all know he’s trying to impress Y/N.”

At that, Mingyu almost dropped the tongs, his ears turning red. “What?! I—no—I mean, come on, DK!”

Y/N chuckled, shaking her head. “Don’t worry, Mingyu. I’m already impressed by your dedication to grilling.”

“See?” Mingyu said, pointing at her with the tongs. “At least someone here appreciates me.”

As the evening went on, the banter continued, with everyone sharing stories and cracking jokes. Dino told embarrassing childhood anecdotes about Y/N, much to her dismay.

“And then,” Dino said, barely able to contain his laughter, “she got her foot stuck in the playground fence because she thought she could fit through it.”

Y/N groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Why do you always bring that up? I was six!”

Mingyu leaned closer to her, his voice teasing. “So, you’ve always been a bit of a risk taker?”

“More like reckless,” Vernon added with a chuckle.

“Okay, okay, enough about me,” Y/N said, pointing at Dino. “Remember when you—”

“Don’t even start,” Dino cut her off, laughing as he held up his hands.

The conversation shifted again, and somehow, Y/N and Mingyu found themselves deep in a discussion about cooking.

“Do you cook often?” Mingyu asked, turning his attention to her while the others debated the best karaoke songs.

“Yeah, when I have time,” Y/N said. “It’s kind of my escape after a long day.”

“Same here,” Mingyu said, nodding. “It’s like therapy, but with food.”

Y/N smiled. “Exactly. Though I’ve had my fair share of disasters in the kitchen.”

“Disasters are part of the process,” Mingyu said. “It just means you’re experimenting.”

“Sounds like something a food scientist would say,” Y/N teased.

Mingyu laughed, a deep, warm sound that made her stomach flutter. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just looking for someone to try my experiments with.”

DK, overhearing, leaned over with a sly grin. “Are you asking her to be your cooking partner, Mingyu?”

“Mind your business, hyung,” Mingyu shot back, but he was smiling.

————————————————————————————-

By the time they finished eating, everyone was full and in high spirits. Dino suggested they hit a karaoke bar, and the group eagerly agreed.

The karaoke bar was vibrant and loud, the perfect setting for their group’s chaotic energy. DK and Dino immediately grabbed the microphones, belting out dramatic ballads and over-the-top dance moves that had everyone in stitches. Vernon followed up with a rap song, his surprisingly good flow earning him cheers.

Y/N and Mingyu stayed near the back of the room, occasionally joining in but mostly talking and laughing. Mingyu was easy to talk to, and his teasing, while relentless, only made the conversation more fun.

“So,” Mingyu said during a lull in the music, “are you not singing because you’re shy, or because you can’t reach the mic stand?”

Y/N gasped, pretending to glare at him. “That’s it. Give me the mic. I’m about to prove you wrong.”

Laughing, Mingyu handed her the microphone. She chose a playful, upbeat song and sang with so much enthusiasm that DK and Dino joined in as backup dancers. When the song ended, the room erupted into applause.

“Okay, I take it back,” Mingyu said, grinning. “You can definitely hold your own.”

“Thank you,” Y/N said, pretending to bow. “I expect an apology for the height joke, though.”

Mingyu smirked. “Don’t push your luck.”

————————————————————————————-

Hours later, the group finally decided to call it a night. Outside the karaoke bar, everyone began saying their goodbyes.

“I’ll drive Y/N home,” Mingyu offered casually, twirling his car keys in his hand.

“You don’t have to—” Y/N started, but Dino cut her off.

“Take the offer. You know you hate walking home late at night.”

With a reluctant smile, Y/N nodded. “Alright, thanks, Mingyu.”

————————————————————————————-

As they drove through the quiet streets, the atmosphere in the car was warm and easy. Mingyu turned on some soft music, and they chatted about everything from their favorite foods to their most embarrassing cooking failures.

When they pulled up to her building, Mingyu turned off the engine and glanced over at her.

“I had fun tonight,” he said, his voice soft but sincere.

“Me too,” Y/N replied, smiling.

Mingyu hesitated for a moment before pulling out his phone. “Can I get your number? You know, in case I need someone to taste-test my next cooking experiment.”

Y/N laughed. “Only if you promise not to call me short again.”

“No promises,” Mingyu teased, handing her his phone.

After she saved her number, Mingyu leaned back with a satisfied smile. “How about this: we cook together sometime? You can teach me how to not burn pancakes.”

“Deal,” Y/N said, opening the car door.

As she stepped out, Mingyu called after her, “Oh, and don’t worry—I’ll bring a stool so you can reach the top shelves.”

Y/N groaned, but her laughter echoed in the quiet night.

As Mingyu drove away, he couldn’t stop smiling. For him, the evening had been more than fun—it felt like the start of something special.

————————————————————————————-

[gay-dorito-dust]

if willing, I would love to see the Bride with a witchy GF?

I know we’ve only seen two episodes so this could be considered soft bride content until I get to see more of these beautiful characters.

She was brought to life by science.

You harnessed magic within your very veins.

Once upon a time you wouldn’t have thought that you’d be able to get through to Bride, she kept her walks up and for good reason, you could sense her pain and her anguish through it whether you were trying to or not.

You still remembered even now the first things you said to her upon first meeting her and still you couldn’t help but chuckle at how far you’ve both come as you show her small feats of your rather dangerous magic. ‘My magic senses that somethings amiss within you, bride.’

Her response;

‘Can your magic also sense that I want you to fuck off and leave me alone?’

You didn’t came within vicinity of her for a good while after that and stuck rather closely to the likes of Nina and Dr phosphorus instead. Your first meeting wasn’t love at first sight, more like hostility until you’ve known her long enough for her to actually bring herself to care for you, and you gladly accepted her request-despite it having been said in a rather blunt manner- and gave her space until you were required to go out on missions; which you found was a rarity as Amanda Waller loved to keep tricks up her sleeves until it was convenient for her to let you all out.

It wasn’t only until recently did you discover that you did like each others company. So fast forward to the present day and here you were, cradling bride again your chest with one hand on her waist while the other was in front of her and showing her amazing illusions of animals, people or even fireworks with your magic to put her mind at ease.

‘You’re such a show off you know that.’ She tells you but you could tell that she was being playful with how she seemed to relax further again your hold.

‘If helping you with my powers showing offs then I guess I should try and go for a more grandiose approach with my powers next time then shall I?’ You rhetorically asked with a smirk upon your face before she gently elbows you in the stomach. ‘Don’t. The last time you tried to conjure up an illusion of a unicorn and it ran right through Phosphorus.’ Bride cackled as she recalled the memory, burying her head into the crook of your neck as you admire her, loving the fact that you were the only person who got to see this side of her and love for it as you did the side she’s always shown others.

You couldn’t help but laugh alongside her as you could clearly remember phosphorus asking if he was high or did he just got attacked by a cute looking unicorn. It wasn’t long for everyone to know it was you, but thankfully phosphorus took it in stride, finding the humour in it all but bride never let you live it down as the face you made was far too priceless for her joy to tear you about it. ‘You never let me forget! My nickname was unicorn for a good few weeks!’ You replied, squeezing her against you just a little bit tighter, not wanting to ever let her go.

‘It still is!’ Bride exclaims as she looks at you, looking completely different to how she looked in front of the others. Her scowl was gone and replaced with more soft and relaxed features as her lips, once only used to convey a scowl, scoff or frown, was spread from one side of her stitched face to the other in happiness. She looked beautiful in that moment and you couldn’t help but get a little flustered in the cheeks when staring at her for too long, it was just the effect she had on you even long after your relationship started; You treasured such a sight greatly and deeply to your heart as your mind etched this moment into your memories forever.

‘Only you call me unicorn!’ You retorted with a pout as you pressed your head against hers. ‘Was it really that funny?’

Bride catches her breath as she wishes a tear from her eye. ‘Oh darling you have no idea how funny your face was when the unicorn ran through phosphorus, knocking him backwards a couple of feet, you could barely look him in the eye sockets without apologising profusely.’ She tells you with a wide smile and knowing eyes as she pressed her forehead against yours, enjoying the look on your face now as she always did, loving how expressive you face was when it came to certain things and how alive and warm they made you seem.

‘Thank the gods he wasn’t a pissy bitch about it either.’ You added as you weaved your magic to make a couple of butterflies flutter across the room, illuminating everything as they did before coming back and landing on some part of bride, making her look more ethereal then she already did in your eyes. The moment in your room was calm again as you and bride looked on at your creations in awe and wonder as they flew like birds , galloped like horses, walked like humans and swam like fishes before your very eyes. You loved your magic and you could tell that bride was coming to enjoy magic too, but only your magic was her preferred magic to admire and watch up close as she did now.

Her hand slowly reaching out to touch a bird, making it land on her outstretched finger, which made her smile softly as the bird greeted her with a plethora of harmonious tweets. ‘Your magic calms me.’ She tells you softly.

‘I’m glad.’ You tell her while kissing the side of her head and down to her jawline. ‘All my life I thought I was too dangerous to touch but you made me rethink all of that when you told I was a mere street magician who uses pulleys and parlour tricks to put on a show. Now look at you, in my arms and enjoying the show you once hated.’ You add as you kissed her nose before pecking her on her rosey plush lips, smiling.

‘So who’s entertaining who?’ You add rhetorically as bride groaned but kissed you on the lips softly, making you hum in delight.

‘I am, and I’d have to say you’re not bad, for a street magician.’ She said affectionately as she made herself comfortable again you, feeling herself becoming needy with sleep and your affection that you so graciously giving her after so long, she could finally breath within your presence and that was all the magic she could ever ask for.

You beamed brightly as you leaned against the headboard of your bed, watching as a pair of swans flew past you both before you waved a hand and made them transform into a cluster of stars that blanketed the ceiling, brining forth a pleasant soothing feeling to the room as they twinkled like actual stars. ‘Just doing whatever my lady wishes of me. Just tell me anything your heart desires and I shall have it brought to you however I can.’ You tell her truthfully, wanting nothing more than to make your girlfriend happy.

Bride looks to you and smiles, the kaleidoscope of colours that bathed her only emphasised her existing beauty to new heights for you. ‘I only need you.’ She says as she leaned in to kiss you fully on the lips, her hand holding your jaw as yours held her back and hips to draw her closer as you melted in her embrace as she did in yours, the cluster of stars having over your both peacefully as they watched two people embrace one another wholeheartedly.

[pedropascallme]

Here Below

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!Reader

Summary: "He wasn’t used to need like this, the type that came with consequences less physical and more emotional."

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI!!!!) canon typical violence and lots of it, threatening language, angst, mentions of cannibalism, age gap obviously (Cooper is canon 200+ years old; reader is written as early 20s), loss of virginity, Coop’s got a thing for corruption, masturbation (m), oral sex (m & f receiving), p in v sex, dom/sub dynamics, biting, dacryphilia, like one (1) spank, so much dirty talk, degradation, praise, brief mention of anal, multiple orgasms what's a refractory period, creampie, phonetic spelling of Cooper's accent because I can, if I missed anything please let me know!!

AN: And here's part two!! Part one here!!

When he was young, Cooper had a mantra; live long, live well, live forever.

The idea of fading into nothing was horrifying enough to keep him up at night even when he wasn’t yet old enough to write his name legibly in crayon. So he became something—made something of himself, and carved out a lasting legacy in his career and in his daughter.

And where was she?

Where did the time go?

There was a cavity in his chest the size of his fist. It hollowed and cracked the longer he lived, and he knew he’d become a shell of the man he once was. Surviving didn’t cut it; the more time he spent in the wastes, the more often he considered fading into what he was so afraid of once upon a time.

But you were warm. Your cheek pressed against Cooper’s chest in a manner that looked uncomfortable; you sagged into him, sliding gently up and down the fabric of his shirt as you took soft breaths in your sleep. He felt it a priority to stay upright, to breathe softly and let his eyes dart ceaselessly around the cavernous building with its too high ceilings and echoey walls. To keep you comfortable. To keep you safe.

To keep you alive.

Because there was life in you, unlike any he’d been able to conjure up for himself. You were so unbelievably fucking willful, so optimistic in the face of end times. And even when you lost that optimism, the fear that you expressed was never selfish.

They had your face. You don’t have a name. I don’t want it to happen to you.

Cooper felt another bit break off from the hole inside his chest as he recalled your tears.

But when he looked at you now, frozen in unconscious bliss, the occasional twitch of your brow as you dreamed, he dared to consider the possibilities.

He wasn’t used to need like this, the type that came with consequences less physical and more emotional.

He wrapped an arm around you, muttering into the darkness about how you’d fall off of him if you kept slipping down the way you were, searching for an excuse for the action he knew was meant to ground himself.

That wasn’t to suggest that your presence offered no biological effects. Daily you found ways to make life more difficult, his pants tighter, and daily he thought about showing you what you did to him—over and over and over again.

He would never get over the image of you, nude from the waist down, choking on the syllables of his name as you made yourself cum. And he never wanted to forget it; you, so pretty and naïve, allowing for such corruption under his watch, glowing under his praise and keening at his demands.

He felt himself throb, the sore tip of his cock leaking enough to create a mark on the fabric of his pants. Despite the depravity of it all, he reckoned his only options were to take care of himself or walk stiff all throughout the next day.

He also knew that it was the depravity that really did it for him.

He took off his gloves; while the leather usually did just fine for him, he craved something more tender, more human. Carefully, with the hand not burdened by the weight of your head on him, he undid his belt, popping the button on his trousers and inching the zipper down. He reached into his boxers, pulling his length free and groaning softly at the relief he felt shoot through him. His cockhead, swollen and red from lack of attention, leaked with his arousal. His skin was hot, radiating lust as he wrapped a fist around himself, trying his best to leave you undisturbed as you stayed snoring softly on his shoulder.

Even in the fading light of the fire, he could see his fist, scarred and barely human, juxtaposed with the still peachy-tan skin of his cock. The irony of the one part he had that still looked the most unchanged being the one that gave him the most grief wasn’t lost on him, but he sighed, ignoring the mental gymnastics he was trying to perform and instead focusing on the squeeze of his hand around his erection.

He let himself fall into fantasy, imagining your hands, uncalloused and smooth, stroking him. He hesitated with each brush over his length, trying to encapsulate your willingness and uncertainty, your eagerness to please and your curiosity of his anatomy fighting with your lack of experience. Cooper mumbled to himself, the pleasure giving him the confidence to be unrestrained even with you pressed to his side, and imagined what he’d say if it were you: “Gentle like’at, sweetheart. Give it a squeeze, don’t forget the tip, there. How ‘bout you take a taste, baby—wrap them pretty lips ‘round my cock and lap up what I give ya. Wanna see ya take it all.”

His head fell back, ashamed but so greatly enjoying the mental image. He thought of you, spread in front of him and bucking your hips, struggling to fit two of your fingers into your cunt, and a gruff moan ripped from his throat as he pictured you in the same position, your fingers replaced with his cock as you begged for more, fighting to take him past the tip.

Your hands. Your lips. Your tongue. Your cunt. He wanted all of you, helpless underneath him as he showed you the ropes, crying out your want and your satisfaction. He wanted to corrupt you, ruin you for anybody else, and then some.

He tightened his grip, slowly stroking from base to tip and manipulating his wrist to bob over the head of his cock, forcing him to arch his back and let out a raspy groan of your name.

His jostling roused you from your sleep, and you sighed, blinking your eyes in the dark at the silhouette of his cock.

He didn’t notice, or if he did, he didn’t care, but your eyes stayed glued to him. The way he released himself to trail fingers up the underside of his cock, dropping lower to cup his balls before taking hold of his length once more to fuck his fist. His moans were choked back, clearly in an effort to keep you undisturbed, but they were beautiful nonetheless as they joined the sound of dry friction of his cock against his palm.

You tilted your head back, still comfortable on his torso, nestled into his stomach. You looked up at his face, his eyes almost closed, mouth open and panting. He looked back at you, and for a split second he looked scared, caught in the act. But when your lips parted, the ghost of a smile on your mouth as you blinked up at him, he slowed his hand, the unease fading.

“Y’want me t’stop, I will, darlin’,” his breathing was labored, his fist sinking down to the base of his cock, “Say th’word.”

“No,” your voice croaked with sleep, but the zeal was still present in your dismissal. “Keep going…show me.”

He sighed, resuming a steady pace. “Voyeuristic li’l thing, huh?”

“You started it.” You squeezed your thighs together, still sticky with the residue of your own self-pleasure session. “Wanna see how you do it.”

Cooper hummed, clenching his cock. “Y’gonna tell me ‘f’I do it wrong, same way I told you?”

“No. I’m gonna watch and learn,” you purred, letting your hand wander over his thigh, “So that I can do it right for you.”

“Christ, girl,” he groaned, hips stuttering into his hand, “Give a man a heart attack.”

“Mhm,” you smiled, skin heating up at the sound of his voice.

“Y’wanna take a turn?” He removed his hand once more, “Be my guest, sweetheart.”

Now your confidence faltered, unsure of where to go from here; did you know enough? Had the few moments you’d spent watching him fist his cock been enough to get it right? And was there even a right way to do it?

But this is what you wanted. Far from what you could’ve imagined in the darkness of your bedroom, this moment now was what you wanted; the whispers and dim light, tile floor sticking to the exposed skin of your back as your shirt rode up, stars fading into daylight in the sky—it didn’t matter that it wasn’t romantic by vault standards.

It was him.

“I—will you tell me how?” You whispered, “The way you did before?”

He chuckled, but it was drenched in lust. “Aw, what’s wrong, darlin’? Think those pretty hands won’be able to hold onto all o’that?” His cock bounced against his stomach, and you whimpered. “I’ll tell ya how I like it, baby, don’ you worry.”

The reassurance he offered, or perhaps more so the way he said it, made you squirm next to him; you rocked your hips against nothing, thighs pressed together tightly and begging the floor for some type of alleviation from the ache.

He watched you move, your futile attempt to get yourself off making his cock stand even more erect. He reached out, guiding one of your legs over his in a weak attempt to help you straddle his thigh. You nuzzled closer against him, bucking your hips and feeling the fabric of your pants bunch up over your legs.

“Now, gimme that hand,” he beckoned, and you lifted your hand to him. He took your wrist in his own hand, squeezing gently to encourage your fingers to relax open, and then licking a thick stripe up your palm. “Put it where’ya want.”

Saturated with his spit, you let your hand fall over his crotch, ghosting over his cock before taking the initiative to grasp onto the length. It was warm, throbbing and soft despite the taut pull of skin. You let out an inquisitive gasp, and Cooper had to dig his nails into the tile of the floor to keep from cumming the moment your hand made contact with him.

“Fuckin’ soft,” he groaned, “Sweet hands, darlin’. C’mon ‘n show me what’cha got.”

You stroked him leisurely, watching your hand run over every inch. You quickly learned to pay attention to the tip, and he bucked his hips into your fist when you moved your wrist over him just so.

“Tha’s’it—fuck me—jus’ like that, good fuckin’ lord,” he couldn’t stop running his mouth, unable to hide the pleasure he was getting out of your movements. “Sweet li’l girl knows her way ‘round a cock.”

You ground your hips into his thigh, not caring that the denim of the pants you wore dug awkwardly into your crotch. Giving him pleasure made you feel powerful, and made you equally as, if not more so, turned on as he was.

“Just doing what you tell me,” you squeezed him at the base of his cock before slowly moving your hand upwards until you got to his cockhead, turning your wrist and then repeating the motion.

“Y’like doin’ what I tell ya t'do, sweetheart?” He let his head drop to his shoulder, eyes shut and mouth open when he felt your thumb brush over his leaking tip.

“Yeah, Coop,” you liked seeing him this way—zero inhibitions and focused on you, trusting you with his body and letting you provide for him, for once. “Love it.”

“Fuck,” he groaned out, his hand coming up to grasp at your face, eyes opening to meet your gaze, “Say it again f’me, baby. Whole thing.”

“I love it, Cooper,” you mewled, leaning into his touch and moving your fist more rapidly over him now. “Love doing what you tell me to do.”

“Damn fuckin’ right, you do,” he growled, knitting his brow in appreciation of your ministrations, “Got you humpin’ me like a fuckin’ whore, one li’l taste of my cock ‘nd you’ll do anythin’ I fuckin’ say.”

“Yeah,” you whined, needy and unfamiliar with the want that you were experiencing. You couldn’t have denied it even if you had wanted to, eagerly grinding against him and letting his words push at your core. “Anything.”

“So work that fuckin’ hand ‘n make me cum, girl,” his jaw was clenched as he barked his words, body clamoring to focus on his immanent high. “Know y’got it in ya, sweetheart, lemme give y’what’cha want.”

“Want—wanna put my mouth on you,” you didn’t know why the thought occurred to you then, thinking back to things the older girls had spoken about doing in hushed voices at the back of classrooms, but you let it slip out into the jumble of moans already falling from your lips. You dug your face into his collar, “Please.”

“Won’t stop ya, sweetheart,” he had to clench his fist to keep himself from spilling into your hand; the image of you begging to blow him could've been enough to do him in completely.

You fell over yourself trying to get onto your hands and knees in front of him. There was a thrill in experiencing something of this nature without being shown how to do it first, and you were eager to please now; to show off for him and have him talk you through every flick of your tongue.

You lowered your face against his cock, feeling how the warmth of his skin seeped into your cheek, the sweet smell of sex flooding your senses. Your fingers traced over him, gentle and patient, as you sized him up and decided where to go from here.

You kitten-licked his cockhead, and he hissed, forcing a hot wisp of breath through his teeth.

“Tha’s it,” he was white-knuckling his thigh, trying to avoid looking directly at you for fear that he would cut the scene short. “Don’ be shy, now.”

You took his rasp in stride, taking the entirety of his tip into your mouth, tongue dancing circles around his length and savoring the bitterness of what leaked from him. He placed a hand on the back of your head, not adding any pressure, simply a gesture of goodwill, and what you could have.

“Mhm,” you moaned, mouth full of him. You reached for his hand and encouraged him to tangle his fingers in your hair. When he tugged at the roots, you whimpered, slipping down his length slowly, trying to hollow your cheeks and let all of him in.

“Fuckin’ desperate, ain’t’cha,” Cooper panted, fingers laced through your hair and moving along with you, “Mouth full’a my cock—y’enjoyin’ yourself, sweetheart? Workin’ at it, li’l slut that y’are?”

You groaned around him, pushing yourself further until you choked, pulling back to splutter as drool pooled over your lower lip and dripped down your chin. He wiped you off, rubbing your spit over his cock and fisting himself as he spoke.

“Y’wanna keep goin’?” He still had one hand in your hair, pulling you back to look at him while he drawled, “Gaggin’ and droolin’ like that, y’still want more?”

“Yes,” you heaved, lungs on fire and throat sore, but still so full of need for him, “Please, let me finish.”

That earned a sharp laugh, “Think ya mean let me finish,” he removed his hand from his cock, wiping the remaining spit on your cheek, slapping at your face softly. “Open wide, sweetheart, lemme fuck that pretty mouth o’yours.”

You did as you were told, breathing through your nose and letting him thrust deep down your throat. Despite it all, he remained gentle—by his standards, at least. Gaze focused on you and any tell-tale sign of discomfort, laser focused on the way tears sprung up on your lash line and how deep he had to go to make them fall over your cheeks; making you gag but not making you suffocate.

You felt like you were on cloud nine; his stare made you feel safe, a watchful gaze over you as you wrapped your lips around his thick shaft and let your tongue roam the veins on the underside of his cock. He was gentle enough, but not overly so—a perfect medium for your first experience of this kind.

“Y’gonna take it, baby?” He huffed, veins on his temples popping beneath scarred skin, “Take it in that hot fuckin’ mouth? Swallow my fuckin’ load, good girl that’cha’re?”

You let out a happy gasp, desperate to taste him, let him coat your throat with everything he had to offer you. You found one of your hands coming to cup his balls, tempted by the downy, pillowy skin and the way they moved in your palms.

When you gave them a squeeze, all bets were off for Cooper.

He held you by the scalp, roaring out his orgasm as he stuttered against your mouth.

“Fuck, that’s good,” he eased you off his cock, watching you lick your lips and gather any of his spend that escaped the confines of your mouth before you swallowed.

It was bitter, and it lingered. You coughed again, making a face.

“Tastes weird,” you complained, wiping the corners of your mouth with your thumb. You stayed between his legs, still happy to play with his softening length and lap up any cum you hadn’t gotten to on time.

“Were y’expectin’ lemonade?” He panted, groaning at the way you licked at his cock. He pulled you up, letting you settle back into the spot you’d been sleeping in earlier by his side. “Reminds me, though,” he shuffled, tucking himself back into his pants and rummaging through a deep pocket for something. “C’mere, darlin’.”

He uncapped a syringe of something, and you shuddered.

“Not until you tell me what that is…”

“RadAway,” he cocked a brow, “My swimmers look jus’ like me, sweetheart. Don’t want ya getting’ sick cause I couldn’t keep it in m’pants.”

You smiled, rolling your eyes in jest and offering him your arm.

“Good girl,” he punctured you with the needle, and you tried not to dwell on the way the penetration paralleled the way he’d pushed into your throat.

“Thank you,” you mumbled, rubbing the spot where the needle had intruded and leaning against him.

“Should be thankin’ you,” he mused, throwing the syringe off into the dark somewhere. “Perfect fuckin’ mouth on you—when y’ain’t complainin’.”

“Just gonna have to fuck it next time I start talking too much,” you nudged him with your shoulder, getting comfortable as you readjusted into your spot.

He grunted in approval, snaking an arm around you.

“It’s my turn to keep watch,” you whispered, eyes droopy as the adrenaline you’d been running on began to crash.

“Go back t’sleep, y’irradiated li’l thing,” he smirked, “Don’t want’cha slowin’ us down tomorrow.”

~~~

You made a game out of avoiding the skeletonized remains of what once was while you walked through the waste. You tried to identify what bone you were looking at, who or what it might’ve belonged to.

The skulls were easy, it was the short bones that made the game difficult for you.

But it made the time pass faster, although you’d realized that over the course of the several weeks you’d been accompanying the Ghoul, time mattered less and less in the grand scheme of things. The sun rose and it set and then it rose again; you had nowhere to be and nothing to anchor you anywhere.

Not nothing, you shook the thought from your mind.

Cooper walked several steps ahead of you. He’d become more and more willing to let you out of his sight on the treks you undertook through the sand, though when the sky went dark, he still maintained vigil over you.

Maybe it was just that he didn’t care, but you liked to think it was a matter of trust and perhaps even confidence in your ability to survive.

He still walked beside you often, especially when you got chatty and he had full vials in his pockets.

That just made you think it was more so a matter of him trusting himself to stand by you.

Admittedly, you’d been quieter in the days since you’d left the abandoned mall. There was less effort put into small talk on both your part and his—and you knew it had mostly to do with your own racing thoughts, but you questioned his reasoning.

You hadn’t been able to bring it up. Any of it—from putting yourself on display to encouraging his own debauchery. You were unsure of whether or not it was even appropriate to talk about now that it was over.

Was it over?

He’d made no effort to mention it, either. Whether that meant he, too, was constantly mulling it over, or if he simply didn’t care, you couldn’t tell. You could never really tell with him. You just knew his gaze lingered more often, and that his hand wandered down the small of your back even when there was nowhere to guide you. It wasn’t unwelcome—not in the slightest; you basked in his attention, even when it meant being on the receiving end of off-color jokes about your survival skills or your time in the vaults. But you wanted him to be the one to acknowledge what had happened, to corner you with the reality and make you confront it head on.

Because if you brought it up, there would be no proof that he cared, too.

Not to mention, you liked seeing him take control in ways that didn’t involve killing anybody.

Cooper could hear you pause occasionally, muted footprints over the sand coming to a halt so that you could analyze another skeleton. He’d noticed your game, thought it was cute, even, that you’d managed to become some kind of expert in desert decay, but he stayed quiet out of the worry that him pointing it out would embarrass you.

That, and every time he spoke to you now, he could only imagine the drag of your hand down his cock, even after several days of trying to will away the mental image.

He swallowed dryly, spitting the sand from his mouth, and the cynicism with it. 

Truth be told, he had no regrets; including becoming the face of the corporation that would end life on earth as he knew it; including shilling himself as some kind of glorified party clown; including keeping the hat he still wore after 200 years.

So it wasn’t regret that kept him from opening his mouth now, but a strong sense of trepidation.

He had gotten so used to brothel whores and quick back ally fucks, and he tried to tell himself the worry lied in the notion that he’d gone too far, too fast. You were new to the world in so many ways, new to pleasures of the flesh, and part of him felt as though he had taken something away from you despite the eager consent he’d received. While he certainly enjoyed defiling you, showing you the way around your pleasure and his own—and knew that you enjoyed it, too—he felt, in the back of his mind, that he certainly shouldn’t have liked it as much as he did.

But more than the anxiety that came with corrupting you (which, in actuality, he was more than somewhat proud of) the real dread centered around the power you had over him. That wasn’t new, he recognized; you had, for as long as you’d been with him, been able to get your way. He was a weak-willed old man, he probably knew that more than you did. But in this respect, with your new ability to reject him outright—to tell him what had happened would never happen again—he couldn’t bring himself to give you the opportunity, fearing that if he opened his mouth, you would shut him down.

He’d tasted the forbidden fruit, and to be cast out of Eden would be an experience that he would, in fact, come to regret, despite himself.

Cooper tried to hide the angst he felt at the scenario of his own creation as he walked onwards.

“S’a radius,” he called over his shoulder to you, still stooped on your knees to find the bone’s hidden mysteries. “Human one.”

“Fuck,” you muttered, “Thought I finally found a deathclaw.”

“’Y'won't find a deathclaw, sweetheart,” he chuckled, “It'll find you. 'N them shits don’t die without a hell’f’a fight.” He stopped in his tracks to wait on you, watching as you trudged through the sand.

“The whole point of the game is that I have to figure it out by myself,” you huffed, the attitude in your voice only a half-conscious decision—you were bothered by his seeming lack of awareness around the tension that hung between the two of you, but you were also tired and hot. “Gotta start over now…”

“Could’a told me. Didn’ know there was rules to it,” he smirked, blissfully, or not, unaware that the turmoil in your mind paralleled his own, “Won’t ruin your fun no more, darlin’.”

“It’s fine,” you grumbled, purposefully kicking up dust in your wake. “You probably know more about skeletons than I do.” You conceded, trying to lose your edge and make friends again.

“Nah, don’t sell y’self short, there,” he tilted his head at you, the brim of his hat hiding his eyes momentarily before he poked it up with a gloved hand. “Y’self taught—real life Einstein.”

“Who?”

He cringed. “Not a lotta science classes down in th’vaults, huh?”

“We had science,” you defended your upbringing, not for the first time, and likely not for the last.

“He was a scientist,” Cooper sighed, “Told Roosevelt to build th’bombs. Smart guy.” He looked around aimlessly, “Not a lot o’foresight.”

“The bombs?” You cringed, not enjoying the comparison he’d made between you and someone who might’ve been behind the landscape you looked at now.

“No,” he shook his head, “Earlier’n that.” He fished a vial from his pocket, taking a sip of the contents. “Gotta get ya’a history lesson.”

“I’ll be fine with you teaching me everything,” you scoffed, “Fast learner, remember?” The words jumped off your tongue faster than you could swallow them, and you shifted uncomfortably, waiting for a response.

Cooper just laughed, hoping you couldn’t hear his nerves. “That y’are, sweetheart.”

He started walking again, and you followed suit, kicking yourself for your slip-up and promising yourself that you wouldn’t bring it up again unless he did.

“How do you know so much about bones?” You tried to bring the initial conversation back to its roots.

“Broken a lot of ‘em. Guess I jus’ know a lot about death.”

“But not dying…”

“Never that.” He cracked the knuckles on one of his hands, and you felt curiosity gnawing at you.

“Cooper,” you started, easing into the subject, and giving yourself time to flake out of it, “How old are you?”

“Old enough.” He grunted.

“Old enough…?”

“To be your granddaddy three times over,” he didn’t do the math, just ballparking it.

“Old enough to remember—”

“Yes.” He cut you off, “Not that I like t’dwell on it.”

“Yeah,” you offered a curt nod, immediately regretting trying to bring it up, “Sorry.”

“Not your fault,” he breathed, “Jus’ not what I’d call a fun memory.”

“Mm,” you pursed your lips.

There was a straight minute of silence before he filled the gap.

“Had a dog,” he mused, suddenly smiling again.

“Really?” The idea of the man next to you caring for a living creature without getting anything in return made you want to laugh—then again, he was taking care of you, wasn’t he?

And you hadn’t been bait in days.

“Really,” he nodded, “Good dog, sweet thing. He followed me everywhere.”

“Like me?” You laughed.

“No,” he turned to you with a wicked grin, “Dog listened.”

“I could probably shake hands if you asked me to,” you shot back with a smile, and he barked a laugh. “Dogs aren’t allowed in the vaults—no pets. No animals.”

“Damn shame…” His response was flat, like he was trying to ignore your words without sounding rude.

God, he missed that dog.

When the thrill of the conversation wore off, you walked along in silence again. The tension was still present, but there was comfort alongside it. But something nipped at your heels, lingering in the back of your mind.

Cooper cracked the knuckles of his other hand.

“How much longer?” You asked, staring straight ahead.

“What?” He eyed you in his peripheral.

“How much longer will you know about death but not about dying?” You looked at your feet, watching the sand make room for every step beneath you.

He stopped walking, sucking his teeth. “You still worried ‘bout what’cha saw back there?” His voice was empty of any emotion, but his face read as concerned.

“I—not so much the ferals but the, uh…” Out of nowhere, there were tears in your eyes, “Don’t really know what I’d do without you.” It was the closest thing to admitting your reliance on him that you’d uttered in all your time together.

“Sweetheart,” he cupped your elbow in his hand, and the subtle display of affection made the tears roll down your cheeks faster. “Y’ain’t gotta worry ‘bout it.” Whether you recognized it or not, he was swearing his allegiance. “’M in it for the long run—til ya get sick of me.” He smirked, still so uncertain of what to do when you got like this that he ran to humor first, “Specially cause I dunno what you’d do without me, either.”

You laughed through quiet sobs, and when he swept you against his chest into what might’ve been meant as a hug, the tears ceased. You felt his hand on your back, thumb rubbing over your shirt.

“You’d be so bored without me.” You sniffled, trying to match his witticisms.

“Yeah,” he tilted his head down to look at you, “Prob’ly right.” He kept you near him even after you’d stopped crying, enjoying the way you moved against his chest with every shaky breath you took. He fished a vial from his pocket with the hand that wasn’t cradling you, “Told ya, ‘s’long as we got these, we’re fine.” He didn’t know why he was saying ‘we’ as opposed to ‘I,’ a subconscious decision that had him projecting you into every aspect of his life—he wasn’t mad about it. And neither were you.

You dragged your cheek along his chest as you craned your neck to look at the vial.

“Cooper,” you whispered.

“Mhm?”

“That vial’s almost empty.”

“Well,” he huffed, “Was hopin’ y’wouldn’t notice that.”

“Einstein.” You mumbled against him as he popped the vial back into his pocket. “Can we get more?”

“S’where we’re goin’,” he informed you, and you peeled yourself off of him to the reluctance of both of you.

You walked side by side, knocking shoulders in silence.

~~~

“C’mon, few more steps—be a big girl ‘bout it,” you had fallen behind him, dragging your feet and letting your shoulders droop in the heat, and Cooper delighted in your obvious fatigue. “Don’t drop dead on me.”

“Free meal for you,” you tried to scoff but it quickly morphed into a yawn. Your skin was tight with sunburn and you felt exhaustion in the deepest recesses of your bones, but you were still awake enough to match his energy to a degree.

“Wouldn’ eat ya, darlin’,” he smirked, and it wasn’t a lie; he didn’t at all want to eat you, at least not in the manner you had implied. “Too sweet.”

“Yeah, I bet,” you muttered, “probably just taxidermy me, carry me around so you don’t get lonely.”

“Now, that is exactly what I had in mind,” he whistled, “How’d ya know?”

He coughed, stooping over with hands on his knees and blinking rapidly a few times to collect himself.

“Are we close?” You quickly grew tired of teasing him, acutely aware of how the muscles in your thighs tensed with each step, and how quickly he would deteriorate if he stayed without whatever was in those vials any longer.

“Close t’what, sweetheart?” He smiled, still happy to poke fun at you despite your disinterest.

“Wherever—vials…anywhere.” You yawned again.

“How is it’at someone who sleeps so goddamn much can’t stay awake more’an a few hours at a time?” He watched your mouth as you stifled another tired sigh.

“How is it that someone with no nose still manages to be so nosy?” You snapped back, smiling at the way his eyes widened.

“Woo. Down, girl,” he tsked, curling his lip. “I got a place in mind, ‘f’you would just hurry it up.”

You grumbled at him, picking up your pace to meet his stride. The setting sun offered respite to your weary bones, soft breeze pushing against the sweaty skin of your back. The Ghoul whistled, tuneless but beautiful, and with every few steps you let your eyes close for just a second.

You momentarily forgot about how tired you were, pleased to simply be in his presence.

“There ya go,” he pointed a gloved hand towards the horizon, and you followed it to see a building that looked to be more sand than structure.

“There’s stuff in there?”

“Stuff everywhere,” he took on a mocking tone, hearing the dismay in your voice that you’d failed to hide. “Don’t’cha trust me, sweetheart?” He smiled, and your gaze bounced from his lips to his eyes.

“I do,” you admitted aloud for the first time, and you saw a flash of something in his eyes that wasn’t there before, but you continued; “Just seems a little…sad…”

“It ‘n’everything else up here,” he sighed. “C’mon.”

You shuffled along with him, and the building became clearer as you approached. 

It wasn’t a house; you could tell that much. There were no visible signs that it had been used as a living space for at least a few decades. Broken glass and lack of amenities aside, you could see rows of shelves and what looked like a counter, and you recognized it as—or what had once been—a pharmacy.

You tripped over the piles of sand that had blown into the entrance, grabbing the outer brick wall to steady yourself. Cooper came up behind you, steady on his feet despite the terrain.

“Ye olde apothecary,” He sniffed, spitting in the sand, “Y’believe me now?” He walked past you, raising his arms as if to expect a welcome from the empty store.

“Never said I didn’t,” you leaned against the empty doorframe as you watched him strut through the aisles. You raised a brow, “Where’s your medicine, Coop?”

He waved you off, shooing you with a hand thrown over his shoulder as he walked towards the counter in the back. He was moving slower, as if to downplay any pain he felt, to rest his surely weary bones. You sighed, following him.

“Stashed some shit in here, few months ago—carryin’ too much,” he jumped over the counter, trying to hide the way he winced when his feet hit the floor.

“How do you know nobody took it while you were gone?” You challenged.

“Ain’t nobody gonna be dumb enough to steal my shit.” He grumbled.

“How would they know it was yours?”

He ignored you as he shucked his duster and ammo belt, tossing them to the ground. He sighed in relief, the extra pounds of fabric and metal no longer a hindrance to him in his weakened state. He began to rummage through moldy cardboard boxes, “It’ll be here. Had to dump it somewhere I knew. Didn’t trust myself t’savor it.”

“Tastes that good, huh?” You smiled, maneuvering yourself over the counter to meet him.

“Y’got no idea, darlin’,” he shook his head, elbow deep in a box. He grunted, yanking at something deep, before hauling out a smaller, metal box from the cardboard. “There y’are.” He kissed the tin, and you rolled your eyes.

You let yourself wander a bit further past him, delving into the boxes that were stacked up where you could reach them.

“Got anything else hidden away in here?” You mused, cringing when your hand made contact with something slimy in one of the boxes. You wiped your palm down your jeans.

“Maybe…” He thought, still fiddling with the tin in his hands, “Guns, ammo somewhere, probably.”

You moved on to another box and found a pistol packaged away in a rag. You swiped it, trying to push it into your belt loops as a makeshift holster.

“Y’ain’t need one.” He knew what you were doing without even looking your way, still wary of letting you carry a weapon after the feral debacle. “Y’get too in your head.”

“You could teach me how to shoot properly.” You turned to him, offering a shy shrug. “Please?”

“Y’really know how’ta make a man swoon, sweetheart.” He had resorted to banging the top of the tin against the table, unable to find the latch to open it. “Christ—c’mere with’ose pretty li’l fingers ‘f’yers.” He held the case out to you.

You shoved the gun into the depths of your back pocket, walking over and taking the tin. You did what you could, fiddling with the rusty lid and praying that whatever liquid was in the vials inside didn’t begin to seep through as a sign of broken glass. You leveraged your nails beneath the rim of the top and used any remaining strength you had left in you to tug hard.

“I almost got it,” you felt pride, happy to be able to provide for him, and you looked up expectantly.

He wasn’t looking back at you.

He was turned away from you slightly, his head up and eyes darting over the front of the store. He stretched one finger out in front as a signal, telling you to pause, but you continued anyway; separating the halves of the tin with a pop that seemed to echo through the derelict building.

When you heard the bang of the front door swinging open behind you, and the crack of glass beneath boots, you shuddered. He brought his finger to his lips, shushing you. You scrambled to grab the vials in the tin, shoving them into your pocket and hoping they wouldn’t break before you could leave.

You shook your head, trying to apologize, trying to ask him to conceal himself, to fight quick and wordlessly, without his usual flair—not like this, not in his worsening condition. But the wick had been lit; the ferocity in his eyes burned bright, and you knew it was only a matter of time until the powder keg exploded.

You remembered, too late, that his belt was across the room, and with it, his gun.

Someone whistled. Someone else laughed. And you felt utterly helpless—a deer in headlights, with no chance of making it to the other side of the road on time.

“Well,” a man’s voice. “Lookit that. Boys, it appears we’ve found the holy grail.”

You turned, slowly. The Ghoul sucked his teeth.

“Nice t’see ya alive, Jed.” Cooper offered a sardonic greeting. You couldn’t see his face, your back now to him, but you knew he was smiling.

“And well!” Jed laughed.

“Now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Cooper scoffed.

“Always so hospitable,” Jed shook his head, finding his way around the counter with his backup close behind. “Ain’t ya gonna introduce me to your friend, here?” He came close to you, near enough for you to see the dry skin on the tip of his nose and the frayed, twisted ends of his beard. He knocked the open tin from your hands, and it clattered to the ground. Thank god you’d emptied it.

“She’s gotta voice,” Cooper ticked his jaw, “Why don’t y’ask her yourself? Or has it been that long since you’ve gotten a good look at a woman?”

Jed backed off, focusing on Cooper now, and you closed your eyes as if deep in thought or prayer; there was no back exit, not even a hole worn into the wall that you could climb through. The cronies Jed had with him maintained their gaze on you, and you swallowed.

“What’s that now?” Jed leaned in towards Cooper, who remained amused by the situation despite everything.

“I’m sorry, I—I was just wonderin’ ‘f’you’re still as big a pussy now as y’were when I last saw ya.” Cooper tipped his hat to the younger man.

Jed smiled, laughing along with Cooper, before suddenly going deadpan and punching him in the gut. Cooper doubled over, cursing, and you sucked in a sharp breath upon hearing the commotion.

“Now, look,” Jed straightened, “You’ve upset the lady.”

“She’ll live,” Cooper groaned, and you bit the inside of your cheek.

“You so sure?” Jed countered.

“What is’t ya want, Jed?” Cooper took a long breath, trying to shut down whatever it was that crossed Jed’s mind in that moment, forcing his attention from you. “Or did y’just drop in t’say hi?”

You turned to watch now. Jed’s face went from one of amusement to ire; his mouth dropped with his brow, creasing his face and making him speak with a sneer.

“I want,” he crossed his arms, “to ask you about your trip down to Filly.”

Cooper sighed, and you watched him drop his head as he spoke, hiding his face with his hat. “You wanna ask me ‘bout that brother o’yours.”

“That’s right.” Jed looked red in the face, “I wanna ask you why you think you can play god, Ghoul.” He took his gun from its holster, turning off the safety as he continued his tirade. “I wanna know what the fuck gives you the right to kill any son’bitch that gets between you an’ some caps.” He breathed heavily, mixing his grief with a stronger sense of brutality.

Cooper looked back up, and for a moment he looked almost remorseful—sorry to see a man so torn up about the loss of kin. But the tinge of sympathy didn’t last long.

“He died like a bitch, Jed.” He grinned.

Jed looked ill, like he was unsure of himself, on the verge of tears or vomit. But he pulled the trigger, anyway.

Two shots sounded, and you flinched at each one.

“Well, there—maybe you do have some charm,” Cooper shook his head, still standing, swatting at the holes in his pants where Jed had shot him—once in both legs, “Sure are makin’ me weak in the knees.” You sighed, relieved, but not out of the woods; his tone remained suave, but his voice was cracked at the edges. His jaw was clenched tight, like he was biting back the pain you hoped he couldn’t feel, and you desperately wanted this situation to be put to an end so that you could force the liquid in the vials down his throat yourself.

Jed said nothing, swallowing thickly and turning to his companions. “Don’t kill him—get him tender for me.”

“What about her?” One of the two other men nodded towards you, and you stared back at him.

“Leave her.” The three men turned to Cooper, and you continued your silent surveillance. He looked pale, if that was possible; a greyish tint on what would otherwise be an angry pink.

Jed let out a slow whistle. “I think I found your Achilles heel, friend.” He moved in on you, poking his gun into your back and forcing you to move directly in front of Cooper. His backup approached the Ghoul, and you shuddered in ugly anticipation.

“She’s got nothin’ you want, boy,” the threat came out more pleading than he’d meant, but Cooper stuck to his guns, “Leave her be.”

Jed sneered, and you looked at your feet. “Make sure he can see her while you beat him—‘nd go slow. Wanna make sure we all get a show out of it.”

With his gun still pressed to you, Jed signaled for his friends to take action. You’d never felt more insignificant; in the vaults you had your dreams, in the wastes you had the stars, but now, watching Cooper allow these men to land blow after blow with the intention of maintaining your safety, you felt utterly hopeless.

And though he kept his head up, snarking occasionally when he had enough breath to fuel him, Cooper looked bad; you didn’t think he could bruise, but in the low light of the shop he looked discolored and hurt. You tried to search his face, for a sign or a signal, but he avoided your gaze.

You found yourself wishing you could see another day of empty desert and inherent danger, as long as it was with him—only if it was with Cooper.

Jed moved to push his gun hard against your face, and you wondered if this meant it would be the last time you’d have a pistol aimed at you. You wondered what you could do if you had an opportunity, if you weren’t so defenseless.

The gun.

You felt the cold metal through the thin denim of your jeans, heartrate skyrocketing when you realized the implications of the weight in your pocket.

You’d never shot a gun. Even when he let you carry around that old, beat-up piece, you’d never gotten the opportunity to fire it. But you’d watched Cooper do it hundreds, probably thousands of times.

He flicked the safety, he aimed, he fired.

You could do that. You prayed to anybody that you could do that in this moment, if never hereafter.

With the focus of the hired muscle already on Cooper, you waited for Jed to let his gaze wander; his eyes, emotionless rocks stuck into his skull, leered at you in a manner that made your blood run cold.

But then he turned his head, watching his companions batter the already worse-for-wear Ghoul. You fished the pistol from your pockets, trying to move quickly.

“Think after this we should have ourselves a li’l party, boys. Nice piece of ass like this, shame for it to go to waste before we—”

A shot, loud and tooth-rattling, engulfed you as you pulled the trigger. Jed fell down, dead.

Your hands were shaking. Your entire body was shaking. Your ears were ringing and your head felt cloudy—with fear or rage, you didn’t bother to define it.

“Get out,” you cleared your throat, now pointing the pistol at the two men who loomed over the Ghoul. Despite your trembling, the men seemed uncertain, lost without their leader and unwilling to find out if you were bluffing. “Get out!” You doubled down, encouraging them to lose their nerve. You watched as they backed away, hands raised in surrender, scooting around the counter and quickly running out the door.

You gasped for air, feeling faint and almost buzzed, before shoving the gun onto a shelf and moving to fold yourself over Cooper.

He was lying flat on the floor, a bit dazed, but not bloodied—you shoved aside the curiosity that popped up in your head, begging the question if he even had blood. His hat had been knocked off and now lay several feet from him. He was smirking at you like he had not a care in the world.

“Look at you,” he coughed, ragged and chesty, and you fished a vial from your pocket. “My little killer.”

“Shut up, Cooper,” you bit the cap off the vial you’d grabbed and spit it out to the side, forcing his head up and pouring the contents down his throat. He coughed at first, before giving in to your control and swallowing the chem. He wheezed when you’d poured all the vial’s contents out, grabbing your arm and squeezing gently.

“Jesus Christ,” he shook his head, collecting himself, “You’re a goddamn angel, sweetheart.”

“Oh my god,” you sighed in relief, letting your head rest on the linoleum next to his. You stayed like that, sprawled out with your body pressed to him, watching the life come back to his eyes. You let him adjust in the quiet, waiting for the right time to discuss what you considered the highlight of what you’d just endured.

“Leave her be?” You put on a less than stellar impression of him.

“Didn’want that filth touchin’ ya.” He muttered, stretching and unconcerned.

“You don’t seem to have a problem when it’s your filthy hands.” You pointed out, somehow feeling that now was the most appropriate time to bring up what had happened between you days ago. In light of recent events, you didn’t care anymore if you were the one that brought it up.

“Exactly,” He turned his face to look at you, “My filthy hands.” He rested his palm on your stomach, “Mine.”

You propped yourself up on your elbow and stared, taking him in; his color was back, the proper pink, sun kissed flush you’d come to appreciate, and his eyes were still in their sockets; his voice was less raspy, at least compared to how it had been while he was getting the shit kicked out of him, and he was forming real words.

His stupid, shit-eating grin was once again plastered on his lips.

He was ok. He was still Cooper—beautiful, wild, stupidly stubborn Cooper. And you realized that you were still shaking, pent up adrenaline trying to find its way out of your system, squeezing at your heart and clouding your brain.

So you kissed him. You grabbed him by the face and pulled him up to you, crashing your lips to his in a frenzied, out of body manner that left you both panting. You clawed at the back of his collar, fingers dancing over his shoulders and down his chest, and still you wanted more.

You pulled away to take a breath, and Cooper licked his lips, chest heaving.

“Think you should kill more people.” He smiled, running a hand over his head.

“Only if you don’t face the brink of death in the process,” you smiled back, a healthy whirl running through you.

It was comfortable—you were comfortable; by his side and safe again, itching for his attention and knowing it was you and only you who would get it. This is exactly what you’d always wanted.

It was exactly what you wanted.

“Cooper,” you sat up, placing a hand on his chest and fanning your fingers out to grab loosely at the fabric of his shirt, “Show me more.”

He cocked a brow at you, unsure of what you were asking. “Show y’what?”

“Like how you did when you showed me how to curl my fingers,” you shuffled closer to him, hand trailing further down his stomach, “And when you showed me how to use my mouth—I want more, please, I want…” You whined a little, biting your lip so you wouldn’t lose your nerve, “Fuck me.”

He stared up at you, your hand dangerously close to his fly and your eyes looking as pleading as your voice sounded.

You were so beautiful, so genuine and virtuous. And he was already destined for a hell, if there was one.

He grabbed you by the waist, hauling you over him and kissing you again. Your chest pressed against his, legs moving to straddle him and squeeze his waist as he tugged you impossibly close. His hands drifted over the curve of your ass, squeezing so hard he thought he might tear through the denim of your jeans.

He tried to go slower, savor the taste of your tongue and the feel of your body on his, but he gave up the moment you began to grind your hips on top of him.

“Bloodthirsty thing,” he muttered against your lips, “All wound up, huh, sweetheart? One bullet out the chamber ‘nd you need me to fuck it better?”

You let out a whine, and he dragged his tongue against your throat, licking up your neck until he reached your jaw. It gave you enough time to think about his words.

“Wait—Cooper,” you pushed off of him and held him by the collar.

He removed his hands from you, resting them on the floor on either side of his head. “What’s wrong?” He swallowed, trying to subdue the ache and the nerves that flickered through him, “What’cha thinkin’, sweetheart?”

“Dead body,” you hooked a thumb over your shoulder, pointing at the blood-soaked spot where Jed still lay dead.

“Not doin’ it for ya?” The Ghoul smirked, and you frowned down at him.

“Not exactly how I imagined it.”

“Y’want me to get rid of it?” Cooper lifted his head to sneer at the deceased man on the floor. You nodded. “Then I gotta get up, darlin’,” he bit his tongue, taking on a playful tone.

You sighed, weighing your options, before relenting and easing off of him slowly.

He got up with a groan, tilting his head to crack his neck as he walked. He moved to grab his hat and place it back on his head before making his way over to the corpse on the floor. You tried not to pay too much attention to the way Jed’s body lolled around as if boneless when Cooper lifted him and threw him over his shoulder.

“Coop,” you called after him, waiting for him to turn back to you, “Don’t eat him.”

“Got another item on th’menu I’m more interested in samplin’, sweetheart,” he shook his head, walking out. “Smartass.”

You weren’t sure what to do with yourself when he left, hauling the body off somewhere out in the sand. Should you pose? Strip? Both?

You stood, unzipping your pants and letting them pool around your ankles, kicking them off into the corner with the least blood.

“This your way o’tellin’ me I wasn’t goin’ fast enough?” Cooper spoke, leaning against the counter as his eyes trailed up your naked legs. You hadn’t heard him come back in—maybe that was his goal. “Had t’start without me?”

You smiled impishly, biting your lip and peeling off your shirt, throwing it over into the corner where it joined your pants in a heap.

You stood bare and felt as though you must have looked awkward and uncertain, but Cooper clearly felt otherwise as he hopped over the counter again and took hurried steps over to you. You took a step back for every one he took forward, hands clasped behind your back and a mischievous grin on your lips.

Your back hit a wall, cornered, and Cooper drank you in.

“You try’na tease me, baby?” He stuck his tongue out to wet his lower lip before sucking his teeth, his hand coming up to your chin and beckoning your gaze upward to meet his. “Cause it’s workin’.”

“…You’ve got blood on your shirt.” You purred, pressing a finger into a dark spot on the fabric.

Cooper, rather ceremoniously, took off his hat, holding it to his chest. “It ain’t mine…” He let the hat fall from his hands, and you watched it wobble through the air before landing quietly on the floor. The corner of his mouth twitched upward into a faint smile, “I can…take it off ‘nd prove it to ya.”

You nodded eagerly, putting any remaining shame to bed and embracing the urgency of your desires.

He bit the forefinger of his glove, peeling the leather from his hand before tugging off the opposite glove. His fingers were thick, though boney, and looked calloused; strong from decades of roughing it and pulling triggers. You watched them, entranced, as his hands flew to his collar and began to unbutton his shirt.

“Now don’ get all yucked-out,” Cooper mumbled, shucking the shirt off his arms and letting it drop to the floor, “Ain’t what I used to be under these rags.”

You couldn’t do much but stare. His torso looked like the rest of him; angry red and riddled with crossing scars. He was lean, but there was still muscle pushing against the damaged skin of his chest and arms.

You reached out to touch him, and delighted in the fact that he didn’t flinch now or try to grab your wrist. You dragged your knuckles down his front, back and forth over his skin before reaching back up to let your palm rest on his chest.

“I like you the way you are…” You said it like an oath, a promise to him, echoing the sentiment you’d shared after being confronted by the ferals and meaning it now more than ever.

“Don’t go soft on me, sweetheart,” he feigned distaste, but he couldn’t hide the way his body relaxed into your touch, the warmth of your palm becoming some sort of beacon that coaxed him in.

“Thought you’d like me soft…malleable,” you smiled, “I remember you enjoying being able to, uh—to guide me through the motions.”

Cooper bit his tongue, stifling the rumble that began in his chest before it could make its way past his lips. He wanted to eat you whole; lick your skin down to the bone and savor every part of you, hoping he’d be lucky enough to hear you sing his praises. But even he knew there was a line, and he’d never forgive himself if he fucked this up.

He took your hand from his chest, rubbing your palm with his thumb. He was closer now, looming above you with a predatory glint in his eyes, and you found yourself content to be his prey.

“Wanna do things t’ya, darlin’,” he stopped holding his tongue, “Give y’the whole goddamn experience that you deserve.” His thumb stopped moving, and he squeezed your hand. “Y’still trust me?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I trust you.”

“’M gonna go as slow ‘s’ya need me to,” he swallowed, “Gonna make sure y’fuckin’ listen, just like last time—liked taking orders, ain’t that right?” He let go of your hand, reaching up to cup your jaw.

“I like it.” Your eyes fluttered, his fingers dug gently into your skin.

“Atta girl,” his hand trailed down over your collar bone, sweeping his fingers over it once before dropping it further to cup one of your breasts. You shivered, his palm engulfing you so easily, squeezing gently before drawing his hand back to squeeze your nipple between his knuckles.

“Dreamed about these tits,” he mused, watching your back start to arch when he tugged just right. His other hand came up to match the pace of his kneading on your other breast. “So fuckin’ soft,” he bent forward, squeezing your breasts together to smother himself in the cavern between them, licking at your sternum.

He came back up to kiss you, and you craned your neck, desperate to greet him with your mouth using the same urgency you felt bubbling in your abdomen. His tongue pushed through your lips, and you moaned, leaving him the space to pull back and bite at your bottom lip.

“More,” your head tilted back when he returned to your chest, sucking a nipple into his mouth and trapping it with his lips and teeth. His tongue flicked over the pebbled flesh while his hand doted on your other breast, and a flood of arousal dripped between your thighs. “Please, Cooper.”

“I told ya, ‘m takin’ my sweet time,” he spoke into the plush skin of your chest, sucking deep purple marks into you. “Woman like you needs t’be approached with care.” He was smiling, you could feel the curl of his lips against your chest as he continued his teasing ministrations.

“Approach me with care faster,” you whined, thighs beginning to squirm together as the familiar heat began to rise in your stomach.

Cooper released his hold on you, straightening up. One of his hands found purchase on the back of your neck, grabbing at your hair and pulling so that you were forced to look up at him; his other arm circled your waist, pulling you towards him so that you could feel the heat of skin-on-skin.

“You’re fuckin’ greedy,” he growled, taking pleasure in the way your breasts pressed firm against his own body, “Here I thought I was helpin’ get you ready f’me, but I don’t think you care.” He kissed your nose, and you whimpered. “Jus’ don’wanna break ya, s’all.”

“I’d be happy to let you break me.” You were serious; you knew what he was capable of, now and in any event, and you knew there were plenty of things you didn’t know much about—some you didn’t know about at all—but in his hands, you knew you were safe.

Even if it meant being broken. You had no doubt that he’d put you back together.

“Y’don’ know what’cher sayin’…” His hand dropped to squeeze your ass.

“S—aid you’d teach me,” you gasped through your words, blindsided by his touch, “Didn’t you?”

“Sweetheart,” he drawled, stepping back and kneeling in front of you, “I am goin’ to thoroughly enjoy showin’ you the ropes.” His words put the image of you tied up and begging for him in his mind’s eye, but he would save it for another time.

His hands caressed your sides, kneading your hips. He placed kisses down your stomach and the top of your thighs before glancing back up at you.

“Put’cher leg up, baby,” he was on his knees, hand gripping your calf and encouraging you to hook your knee over his shoulder. You did what you were told, your core pulsing when you felt his breath fan your bare cunt. “’Bout time I returned th’favor. Had that sweet li’l mouth on me, wanna taste ya from the source.”

You whined, eyes fixed on him when he brought two fingers to your core and slid them through your folds, collecting the slick that threatened to drench your thighs. He brought his hand up to his mouth, sucking on the digits he’d coated with your wet and humming.

“Like candy, sweetheart,” he placed his hands on your ass, fingers digging into your flesh as he drew you in closer and let his face hover just centimeters from where you both wanted him to be. He inhaled, chasing your scent. “Goddamn precious thing.”

You didn’t have time to come up with a reply, instantly met with the sensation of his tongue lapping between your folds before he had even finished his sentence. He licked straight through your slit, letting his tongue dart over your hole and circling it with care before plunging it into you.

You felt hot, unsure of what to do with your hands as the stimulation sent jolts of pleasure through your body, coupled with the vibrations of Cooper’s groans as he buried his face against you. You grabbed at his free shoulder to steady yourself, fingers straying to cup his face and feel the way he hollowed his cheeks while he fucked his tongue into you, guzzling the slick that drenched your thighs.

“Jesus Christ,” he trailed his lips over your thigh, catching his breath, “Look at what y’did, darlin’—makin’ a fuckin’ mess o’me.” He licked his lips, humming as the tang touched his tongue again.

“Feels so good,” you were slack-jawed, staring down at him with saucer eyes.

“Can you believe there are fellas out there who don’ wanna taste their ladies?” Cooper mused, swiping his fingers through you again before positioning them over your clit and applying just enough pressure so the sensation made you bend at the knees. “Goddamn travesty—think I could stay here forever…” He watched you squirm under his fingers, rolling your hips against his hand.

“I’d—I’d let you,” you managed to moan out, trembling.

“Yeah?” He grinned, “Y’want me fuckin’ you with my tongue all day, sweet thing? Y’wanna drown me with this fuckin’ cunt?”

“Cooper—” You felt dizzy, the haze of lust completely cloaking your mind.

“Could y’handle it, sweetheart? All this mess b’tween your pretty fuckin’ thighs—givin’ it to me like the li’l slut I know y’are? Bet ya’d ask for more. Y’always want more, ain’t that right?”

“Yh—ess,” you whined, breath shallow as you neared your high, letting his words wind up the spring in your core.

He’d never felt more triumphant in his life; for someone who had stared death in the face for decades upon decades, it was only now that he felt prepared for it. Covered in your pleasure and listening to your cries, he knew he could die a happy man—but only if he could see you through to your high.

“I’ll give ya more, darlin’,” he bit into your thigh, and you yelped, head falling back, hips pushing against the fingers he still had on your clit. “Always give ya more.”

You felt his fingers leave you, easing further back and pushing against your entrance. You moaned out a plea, something half-assembled and whiny, to make him hurry up. You bit your lip, gasping, when his two fingers pushed into you: thick and deep and immediately locating the spot he’d shown you all those nights ago.

“Fuck—” You cried out, the pads of his fingers punching up into you deliciously.

“Bigger’an yours, huh?” He laughed, unable to tear his eyes away from the way your cunt swallowed his digits, “Y’feel’at stretch again, sweetheart? Pretty cunt nice ‘n’full o’me?”

“It’s s—it’s so good,” you shook your head, lost in overwhelming pleasure. You started bouncing your hips, riding his hand; the slick sounds and the way he moaned out at the sight only served to spur you on further as you hurtled closer to your orgasm.

“Pretty whore, that’s it. Ride these fuckin’ fingers, girl. Wanna see that pretty face y’make when you cum for me.” He was growling, face twisted into a wolfish sneer as he pushed his fingers deeper into you, watching your face contort as your body made space for his intrusion.

When his lips wrapped around your clit, working in tandem with his fingers, your vision went white. Even with your eyes closed, there was still a trace of light, a halo under your eyelids as your body went slack for him and your thighs trembled through the burn of staying in one position for so long.

“Got a tight fuckin’ cunt—squeezin’ me so nice when you cum, baby.” He licked the juices that leaked over the fingers still buried deep inside you, flicking his tongue over your clit and watching your body jolt at the overstimulation.

“Oh my god,” you leaned against the wall behind you, panting. “Cooper—fuck, too much.” You whimpered, reaching for his wrist and pulling him up to you. He leaned into you, pressing his face into the crook of your neck.

“’M sorry, sweetheart,” his words were muted, spoken into your skin between kisses that were likely to leave marks. “So pretty when y’shake like that.”

“No, it’s—it was the good kind of too much.” You giggled, breathy and coquettish, at the way his lips felt on your neck.

“S’at right?” He groaned into you, and your hands came to rest low on his back, just above his waistband.

“Think you knew that…” You mewled, hands looping around to his front to tug on his belt.

“Well, maybe,” he moved to rest his arm against the wall, caging you next to his forearm, “Certainly think I know one thing.”

“Yeah?” You nearly had the buckle on his belt loosened enough to pull it off of him completely. “What’s that, Coop?”

“Think I know you’re a grabby, impatient li’l thing,” he grabbed you by the elbow, halting your attempt to remove his belt. “Think you were serious ‘bout lettin’ me break you, seein’ how those hands keep wanderin’ without permission.”

“Wanna touch you.” You whined, desperate to see if his threats would become promises.

“Touched me plenty,” he laughed, not caving to your pleas, “Don’t’cha wanna feel me in that pretty cunt?” He cupped your still dripping sex, “I know she does.” He pressed the heel of his palm into your clit. “See how far I can push ya?”

His fingers threatened your entrance again and you swooned, rocking your hips forward. Before you could get any satisfaction from his hand, he brought it back up, fingers beckoning your lips open. You licked at his fingers before resting them on your tongue to suck; he tasted like the ash of gun smoke and the tang of your cum, and you whimpered into him.

You released his fingers from your mouth with a quiet pop, and squeezed his hand, admiring the rough skin and the dark eyes in front of you.

“Get on the counter—‘nd spread those legs.” He pulled you towards him by the hand, easing you forward and encouraging you to make the journey to the counter on your own.

“Don’t wanna fuck me up against the wall?” You purred, more so anxious about how you’d look on your back than disappointed that he didn’t fuck you where you stood.

“We’ll get there.” He drank you in as you walked away, eyes darting over your body, unsure of which part of you he enjoyed looking at most. “Wanna get you comfortable.”

You hopped up on the counter, spreading your legs and chancing a look between your thighs. You were soaked, even beyond how you looked after touching yourself for him; the mixture of the two of you, your cum and his spit, that sat sticky on your thighs and over your folds made you squeeze around nothing, and you dipped a hand down to explore your already wrecked cunt.

“Wanderin’ hands…” The Ghoul remained in the spot you’d left him in, hand on his belt buckle as he eyed you.

“Well…” You smiled sheepishly, keeping your fingers perched delicately over your clit, “Come do something about it.”

His jaw clenched, and as he walked over to you with long strides, he undid his belt, unzipping his fly. He didn’t bother ridding himself of his pants—not only was he in too much of a hurry to care, but part of him felt a buzz at the notion that he’d be able to smell you on the fabric for the next few days to come.

“Y’wanna touch so fuckin’ bad?” He pulled his cock out, and you watched, wide-eyed, as he stroked himself. “Go’head, sweetheart—just like y’did last time.”

In the light of day, without the hindrance of sleep in your eyes, and with more illumination than just the dim assistance of a dying fire, you were able to properly appreciate him; long and thick, his tip angry and purple, marred with veins rather than the scars that littered the rest of him.

“Is it a side effect of radiation or are you just lucky?” You smiled nervously, reaching down to wrap your hand around his cock.

“Stroke my cock, girl, not my ego,” he laughed, his amusement cut short when you swiped your thumb over his tip. “Christ, ‘at’s it.”

“I remember what to do.”

“Not about rememberin’. Slut like you, was probably hardwired into your system. Pretty fuckin’ thing.”

You took more initiative now, caging him between your legs and urging him closer to you; you moved your hand to the topside of his cock, pressing the underside of him to your cunt and bucking your hips slightly against him.

“Fuck me, I ain’t teach ya that,” Cooper looked down, slack-jawed, at the way you moved.

“Hardwired…” You muttered, you yourself entranced by your ministrations.

“She’s gonna look so pretty stuffed full o’me,” he thrust his hips against you, matching your casual pace. “Y’think ya can take it, darlin’? Gonna lemme fill y’up ‘n’then some?”

“Please,” you struggled to hide your excitement, “Show me—break me.”

“Well, shit,” he groaned out, fingers of one hand gripping your thigh while his other hand wrapped around the base of his cock to line himself up with your entrance, “’F’you insist.”

He went slow, teasing you, dragging himself through your folds before finally pushing forward just enough to let the tip of his cock penetrate you.

“H—oh,” you stuttered, feeling a brief squeeze of something in your abdomen.

“Jes—us, fuck. Jus’ relax, sweetheart. Gonna be gentle for ya.” His voice was raw with desire, and gentler than you’d ever heard it. That alone helped you feel more at ease. He worked you open, inching into you until he was fully sheathed. “Look’at’cha, baby, see how that pretty gash drools for me?” He couldn’t even try to hide his pleasure, heavily lidded eyes paired with his incessant narration. “Lord, bury me in this tight fuckin’ cunt.”

You shivered, feet hooking into his back and quietly urging him to do more. You felt your walls clench around him, familiarizing your body with the pleasant new intrusion.

“Gonna move now, sweetheart. Y’alright?”

“Please,” you gasped when he pulled back an inch, “Let me feel it. Wanna feel you ruin me.”

The hand he didn’t have on your thigh moved to wrap loosely around your neck. “Y’got a dirty fuckin’ mouth.” He leaned forward, inadvertently pushing his cock deeper within you and making you moan wantonly into the kiss he offered. “Now you look at me, baby. Keep those eyes on me while I break y’nice.”

He pulled back before plunging into you and setting a fast but compassionate pace. You wiggled free of his grasp on your throat, head falling back in shock and pleasure.

“What’d I fuckin’ say?” He snarled, grabbing you by the nape of your neck and forcing your face up. “You look at me while I’m fuckin’ you—want y’to see who’s makin’ you feel like this.”

Though your eyes rolled back slightly with each press of his hips to yours, you managed to keep your head up with help from the hand he had on the back of your neck.

“Fuck,” you mumbled out a whine when the tip of his cock nudged at your cervix, a pinch of pain that was drowned out by the overwhelming pleasure. You’d never felt fuller, or more complete, than you did in that moment—connected to him on a much more literal level.

You rolled your hips, desperate for more, pleading for everything he had to give you. You tried to match his pace, but your movements were more urgent than his own and you found yourself squirming pitifully on his cock.

“Thought you’d need it gentle,” Cooper growled out, his teeth clenched, “Was gonna be so patient. But y’really are just a needy fuckin’ whore, huh?” He wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you to him and effectively quieting your movements. “Ain’t’cha? Say it. Tell me what’cha’re, girl.”

“Needy—needy whore.” You let yourself collapse under the pleasure, burying your face into him and letting his skin mute your words.

“That’s right. ‘Nd who’re you needy for?” He goaded you, hips still pistoning forward while you clawed at his back.

“You,” you managed to choke out.

He pulled you back by your hair, and you yelped out a moan as he forced your eyes to meet his. “Say my fuckin’ name. You’re my needy li’l whore, ain’t that right, darlin’? C’mon.”

“Y—es,” you whimpered, grabbing handfuls of him wherever you could reach and pulling him forward to you for a sloppy kiss.

“Don’t be shy now, tell me.”

“I’m yours, Cooper—yours.”

“Shit, there y’go,” he moaned, leaning his head back and granting you access to his neck, where you trailed open mouth kisses.

When he used the arm around your waist as leverage to pull you closer and drag you over his cock, you sucked your lips between your teeth, biting down and trying to let the sounds that traveled from your throat die before they reached your mouth.

“Don’t get shy on me,” he punctuated his words with sharp thrusts of his hips, “Wanna hear y’screamin’.” He tilted you back so you were lying on the counter, wrapping his mouth around the pillowy flesh of your breast, sucking and biting down on you until you caved and let your moans flow freely from between your lips.

“Cooper—fuck,” your voice was strained by satisfaction, “It’s—yeah, taste me while you fuck me.”

“Atta girl,” he groaned, licking over your nipple before biting down on it, “Sound pretty when you’re cryin’ for me like that. Usin’ all your dirty words—what would they think down in that vault o’yours ‘f’they saw ya givin’ it all up to a man like me? Gettin’ split in half by a fuckin’ ghoul ‘nd likin’ it?” He was rambling, getting off on the thought of people seeing a pretty young thing like you, smooth and soft and lively, speared on his cock.

He'd fuck you out in the open next time, if you’d let him.

“Don’t—don’t care—" you were panting, overstimulated and loving it, “Want more.”

“Greedy bitch,” he reached between your bodies and pinched your clit, eliciting a high-pitched mewl from you. “Been nice enough to fuck y’rough like ya needed ‘nd you’re still actin’ desperate. Just gonna have to keep you on my cock like this all the time.”

“Yes!” You moaned, the thought of him keeping you full like this made you more than happy. The excitement in your voice did little to quell his thoughts of keeping you beneath him, hoarding you to himself and stuffing you every free moment.

“Yeah, ‘at’s what’cha need. Dumb fuckin’ hole to use, s’at right? Y’just wanna be a cunt f’me to fill.” He sped up, and in his haste his cock jabbed against your g-spot repeatedly and with no mercy.

Nobody had ever spoken to you like this, held you liked this, or fucked you at all, let alone in a manner so aggressive and hungry for you. You loved it, you lapped up the attention and the degrading praise that he lobbed at you and begged for more.

“Fucking—anything, I’ll do anything for you, Cooper,” you meant it, too, “Use me how you want, whenever you want, I’ll fucking let you—I’ll let you.”

“You be a good girl ‘n’cum for me, I’ll help you make good on that promise.” He drawled, not planning to let up anytime soon but aching for the feel of your cunt squeezing him even deeper. “Soak my fuckin’ cock, I’ll bend y’over til y’forget your own fuckin’ name.”

“O—fuck, please,” you wanted it, craved the feeling of his cock pounding into your already sore center even more as he demonstrated to you all the ways that you could take him. He rolled your clit between his fingers, combining the movement with gentle strokes using the pad of his thumb. “C—ooper,” you hardly managed to breathe his name, the now more than familiar feeling of white-hot arousal coating your veins and clouding your senses.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he muttered, “Lemme have it—drown me with it.”

This was the closest he’d ever felt to feral, wild and primal and absolutely hungry for the way you convulsed when you came. He pressed harder against your clit, coupling the motion of his fingers with long, deep strokes of his cock.

Your nails dug into the counter under your head as you let go, your chest heaving. Whining, you arched your back, the satisfaction of feeling him so deep in your cunt prolonging the electricity of your high.

“Fuck,” Cooper was rasping, his words catching in his throat and tugged out by the pleasure of feeling you clench around him, your slick dripping over his length. “Goddamn sweet pussy, there’y’go baby—that’s what I wanna see.” He continued to roll his hips against you, enjoying the way you whimpered for him. “Y’gonna let me bend ya over now?” He cooed, pushing hair from your face.

You opened your mouth, breathing heavily, trying to find words to respond.

“Don’t waste your breath, sweetheart—f’you open your mouth again I’ll be tempted to fuck it.” The thought made you moan, any words you’d been able to think up dying before they reached your lips. “You’d fuckin’ like that, though, huh?” When you nodded dreamily, he laughed, and seeing the rise and fall of his chest, and the genuine smile on his cracked lips formed from affection rather than disdain, your fading orgasm was replaced with burning desire to let him give you another.

“Bend—bend me over.” You whispered, voice soft and dry after overworking your lungs.

“Gonna have’ta pull out first.” He cocked a brow, teasing you just for the hell of it. He was obsessed with the image before him, the sweet headstrong vault dweller that he’d managed to get in such an unholy position; corrupting you like this was his new favorite pastime.

“Mm,” you mewled, loosening your legs from around his waist and letting them go slack by his sides. “Fast.”

“So desperate to be stuffed, can’t bear a couple seconds?” He pulled out slowly, and you shivered. The hollow feeling in your lower half made you clench around nothing, and you were eager to have him replace the emptiness.

You shook your head in response to his goading.

“’Nd that’s why you’re a whore.” He spoke with a sense of finality, more than ready to get you beneath him.

Cooper tugged you forward by your hips, easing you off the counter until your feet hit the floor with a dampened thud. You swayed, and his hands moved to your waist to ensure you didn’t collapse into more of a lusted-out heap than you already were. Slowly, he turned you, encouraging you to bend at the hips and let your hands drape over the front of the counter.

“Pretty thing. So fuckin’ nice to look at.” His words were quiet, meant only for the two of you to hear, and even then, it was mostly for his sake; he kept moving, kept speaking, to ensure this was all really happening and that he wouldn’t wake up hungover in a cold sweat, craving his body weight in jet.

“Christ…” He dragged his hands down your sides when you had made yourself comfortable, “So smooth.” He ran one finger down the length of your spine, and a contented sigh that verged on a laugh slipped through your lips. “So damn pretty—God, you’re a fuckin’ prize, sweetheart.”

“Your prize,” you mumbled into your arms where they cushioned your face. “Deserve something pretty.” You didn’t know why you said it. Maybe in your post-orgasmic haze you thought it would make more sense, maybe you would’ve been embarrassed for saying it if you had any sense of shame. All you could really think about in the moment was having him between your thighs again.

But it made sense to Cooper. And all the guilt and impurity he’d dealt with while traveling with you, and before, and all the reasons he felt marked by the devil (or at least some ungodly imp that had it out for him) faded from his mind. Caps be damned, you were the best reward he’d ever gotten, and it didn’t matter if he felt it was undeserved—you thought he’d earned it.

“Think you’re right,” he sighed, gripping his length and lining himself up with you. He took it as an opportunity to admire your form before he ravaged you again: drinking you in, listening to your quiet, urging whines.

He pressed the head of his cock to your entrance, spitting once and letting the strand pool between your ass. He watched with anticipation as it dripped, groaning slightly at the sight of his spit making its way to puddle over his cock where it connected to you.

His eyes darted over to the tight rim of your asshole; the trail of his saliva had left it glassy and he couldn’t help the way his thumb brushed over it.

“What about here, sweetheart?” He pressed leisurely against the puckered hole, “Y’ever think about takin’ it here? Gettin’ fucked where the sun don’ shine?”

“C—ooper,” the pressure was different, but not unwelcome. You’d never considered the possibilities, but now he had you wondering.

“I’m pullin’ yer leg, baby…’nother time.” He huffed a breath, adding it to the list of profane things he wanted to expose you to.

Besides, he was tired of teasing you—teasing himself. He didn’t have the restraint to keep his cock perched at your entrance any longer. He thrust wildly into you, bottoming out immediately and knocking the air from you.

“Shit—Cooper, fuck—” You gasped, arms shooting forward and nails scratching at the countertop. This position allowed him so much more free reign, and you could feel him deep in your stomach. “Oh, my g—yes, yes, yesyesyes!” 

“You’re a fuckin’ dream,” Cooper leaned over you, pressing his chest into your back and wrapping a hand around your throat to keep your head still while he growled into your ear. “Fit like a fuckin’ glove. Y’feel that?” He dragged his cock out of you before punching it back in, and you cried out for him. “Made for me, ain’t that right?”

“H—n—yes!” The back of your head settled into the crook of his neck, and you were thrilled to be surrounded by him; his hand on your throat and his body above you, stuffed full of him and dripping down your own thighs—it was perfect. “For you, Cooper.”

“Gonna make sure y’don’t forget it,” he straightened back up, moving his hand to your upper back to pin you down, “Mold this fuckin’ cunt just for me—ruin ya good, nobody else’ll have a fuckin’ chance.”

His hips pressed against your ass, every thrust somehow deeper than the last; you gave up on forming coherent words, mouth agape and producing muddled whines. You felt tears gather in the corners of your eyes and then flow down your cheeks, overwhelmed by the bliss of his cock punching into your most tender spot and unable to keep up with the arousal that coursed through you.

“Don’t even have to see that pretty face to know what’cha look like right now,” Cooper continued his onslaught of affectionate degradation, “Fucked out so good yer cryin’. Stupid, cockdumb li’l thing.” His hand moved up from your back and he laced his fingers through your hair, tugging from the root and pulling you up to him so that your back arched and he could look at you while he spoke. “Pathetic li’l girl.”

You offered a delighted, if not incoherent, reply.

“Just that good, huh? Bet’cha ain’t know it could feel like this.” He licked a stripe up your cheek, following the salty path of your tears.

“’S‘mazing—” You whimpered, eyes rolling back. You pushed yourself back against his thighs, desperate for everything you could get from him. “Cooper—‘s’o g—ood.”

“Fuckin’ look’t you,” Cooper bit down on your neck, running his tongue over the spots his teeth had left dents in, “Work for it, sweetheart.”

With the energy you had left, you rocked back on your feet, leaning against him and pushing your ass into his hips. The noises you let out were pornographic, practically inhuman, and Cooper lapped it up. His free hand fell to your hips, squeezing the skin there before tracing down to your thigh and then up over the curve of your ass. He kneaded the flesh, then let his hand come down in a quick smack before repeating the motion. You let out strangled moans each time, unable to wrap your mind around how he managed to make everything feel so good, so natural.

“Gonna cum f’me?” He used his grasp on your hips and hair to take his control back, dragging you over his cock like a toy and listening to you cry out. “C’mon, girl, wet this cock again.”

“Fuck,” it was the first real word you’d managed to speak in a while, “Ca—an’t…” You had never tried to give yourself multiple orgasms, usually sated and in bed after you’d given yourself one. You were almost certain that you wouldn’t be able to give him what he wanted a third time in a row, despite how badly you wanted it, too.

“Oh, yes y’can, sweetheart,” the hand he’d had on your hip wrapped around your front, fingers immediately dropping to your clit and massaging it in quick, tight circles. “Just gotta make ya.”

Your legs were spasming and your tongue lolled from between your lips; you felt wrecked and used up and it made the fire in your core burn twice as bright.

You screamed his name, cried it out repeatedly while you drenched his cock.

Cooper let go of the grip he had on your scalp, groaning at the feel of you wrapped around him and the sound of his name falling from your lips.

“Good girl—only fuckin’ word y’gotta know.” He moaned, still thrusting into you, though his pace had slowed, and his fingers pressed more gently into your clit as you rode out your high. “Y’gonna let me bust in that pretty mouth again?” He reached forward, two of his fingers hooking the side of your cheek before adjusting to rest on your tongue. You closed your lips around them and sucked. “Wanna swallow what I got for ya?”

You tried to respond, but your words were garbled by his fingers.

“Speak up, girl,” Cooper tsked, letting his hand fall down to your throat and giving it a squeeze.

“Not—not my mouth,” you spluttered, “In my pussy.”

You heard him let out a strangled sound, one he quickly tried to swallow in order to regain composure. He wanted to argue—tell you that you weren’t just a quick fuck he’d toss chems at and forget in an hour, that he’d paint your chest or your ass or your face instead, give you all the glory of the reward without the poisonous aftereffects.

But damn if he didn’t want to see you full of his load, letting him watch while it dripped from your swollen, used-up hole.

“Y’sure, sweetheart?” He pressed, holding back his imminent high for a moment longer to make sure you weren’t just letting your libido speak for you.

“Cooper…” You whined, purposefully squeezing your walls tighter around him, “Fill me up.”

He had to hand it to you: even fucked stupid, you were still stubborn as all hell. And incredibly convincing, at that.

It made him smile into the back of your neck, leaning forward to pin you down again while he sped up the motion of his hips.

“Fuckin’ whore. Y’wanna get filled up so bad?” He caged you between his arms, trapping you between his body and the counter, “Fill y’up every fuckin’ day—keep ya drippin’ for me so I can slide right back in. Fuckin’ cumslut.”

He was getting sloppy; his thrusts were more erratic, and he’d given up completely on keeping a steady pace.

You craned your neck to the side, eyes lidded and dry tears clinging to your lashes, drool pooling at the corner of your mouth. He stared down at you. You looked completely wrecked, and absolutely beautiful, and it was the first time in over two centuries that he felt right.

He kissed your temple.

“Cum in me,” you whispered, “Please, Coop.”

“Cryin’ for me, beggin’ t’be pumped full’a cum by a fuckin’ ghoul,” he was heaving, his words just as needy sounding as they were ragged and controlling. “Y’wan’it? I’ll fuckin’ give it t’ya. Desperate slut—Christ—fuck! There y’go.” His moan of your name was gruff, almost choked as he pumped into you. You felt him pulse, his chest pressing against you as he took labored breaths, still whimpering quiet whispers of your name. You clenched around him, half on purpose and half on reflex, and he groaned behind you.

You stayed like that, together in a heap, barely supported by the counter beneath you. Finally, he moved his head to pepper kisses on your shoulder.

“Gotta get y’up,” he mumbled against you.

“Don’t wanna.” You were perfectly happy to stay where you were, with the cold counter pressed against your cheek and his cock still inside you.

“RadAway.” He said it like a warning.

“I feel fine.”

“Don’t test me, darlin’.”

“Or what?” You goaded, arching your back against him and wiggling your hips.

He cursed under his breath. “You’ll get sick ‘nd whiney ‘n’I’m the one ‘at’s gotta deal with it.” He nipped at your neck, and you giggled.

“Sick, maybe. I don’t whine.” You rolled your eyes.

“Uhuh.” Cooper chuckled, standing properly. He winced when he finally pulled out of you, but the discomfort of having to remove himself was quickly remedied by the way his cum dripped from your cunt and down your thighs. He watched transfixed as the gooey mixture of the two of you slid down your legs. Raising his hand almost subconsciously, he swiped at the liquid as it trickled over your skin and pressed two fingers inside of you.

“Cooper,” it was more a gasp than a coherent call of his name.

“Said I’d keep ya full…” He was muttering, eyes never leaving your swollen cunt as he pushed his spend back into you. You whined, sore but content, when he leaned forward to press kisses into the globe of your ass, biting down with minimal pressure just to savor the bounce of your skin against his teeth.

He managed to tear himself away after a while, leaving you to your own devices momentarily while he tracked down his duster and laid it out on the floor.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” his palms were back on your hips, and he helped you find the energy to stand up straight. He whistled as he guided you to the spot on the floor he’d chosen, hands never leaving you when he got you to curl up on the duster.

“No room for you,” you complained, stretching out an arm to emphasize the uncovered floor next to you.

He smiled down at you, kneeling to rustle through the pockets of the coat under you to find RadAway.

“Y’think I care ‘bout sleepin’ on the ground? Slept underground before, sweetheart. Not one t’bother with comfort.” He kissed your thigh, trying to distract you from the sting of the needle he pressed into you. “Long’s I’m next to you, I’ll be jus’ fine.”

You winced when he delivered the RadAway, but the press of his calloused hand against the spot of the intrusion offered instant relief.

He found his way next to you, lying on the floor and putting out his arm for you. You curled against him, draping a leg over his side and resting your head on his shoulder.

You lay there together, appreciating the company and basking in each other’s quiet affection.

“This’s what it’s s’posed to feel like.” Cooper spoke.

“What?” You’d almost fallen asleep in the tranquility.

“Livin’.” He said simply.

“You’d know better than anybody…” You smiled, “What, a hundred years old? One-fifty?”

He craned his neck to look at you, smirking.

“Two hundred? You’ll stop me if I get it right, right?” You pushed him.

He just grinned, rolling his eyes and lying back down.

“Never told you how bad it was for me before I found you.” You kept talking.

“Now, ‘f’I recall correctly, I found you, sweetheart.”

“Y—shut up,” you laughed, and he laughed with you. “I thought I could be part of something. And then I thought I was dead.” You explained, “Or at least…dying.”

“No. You would’a pulled through.” He wrapped a strand of your hair around his finger, letting it uncurl before repeating the cycle. “Y’always do, Einstein.”

And even after everything, that’s what made you blush—his recognition, his praise of your skills.

“You are part o’somethin’. By the way.” He didn’t elaborate, just wrapped his other arm around you to pull you closer.

“Yeah, well…” You could only imagine what he meant, but no matter what, you had a feeling that he meant it wholeheartedly. “Helps that I’ve got you now.”

“Helps that I got you.” He echoed, barely above a whisper.

You both fell into silence again, his hands still combing through your hair.

“Meant it. ‘Bout how I feel really…alive.” Cooper stopped fiddling and rested his hand on your back. “Never thought I’d…” He had backed himself into a corner, unsure of how to describe his feelings. It had been so long. “I never thought I’d appreciate havin’ someone by my side quite as much as I appreciate you.” He chose his words carefully, not yet willing, or able, to put into words the true depth of his devotion to you.

You smiled; you knew exactly what he meant this time, and it made you feel like crying and kissing him and letting your heart burst through your chest.

Instead, you breathed deep, letting him flood your senses. “I love you, too, Coop.”

He moved to kiss the top of your head, chaste and vulnerable, and you leaned into him further.

“You’re a good person. Yknow that?” His thumb swept over your skin where his palm was resting, “Capable. Smart. Good all ‘round.”

“You think?”

“As good ‘s there are stars in th’sky.”

“Even after I killed a man?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Especially after that.” He nodded in reassurance.

“…What now?”

“Figured we could just lie here a while longer,” Cooper stretched, raising his arms over his head before they settled back around you.

“Yeah,” you let out a small yawn, one of your hands pawing at his chest lazily.

“And after’at…we keep on walkin’.”

“Together?” You asked, your fingers pressing against his skin.

“For’s long as you’ll have me.” He smirked, squeezing your hip.

“Forever, then,” you smiled into him, letting your eyes close. “Forever.”

“Yeah, I think’at sounds good,” he leaned his head against yours, basking in the glow of you. “I like that.”

Maybe you had miscalculated, and certainly you had been wrong about plenty.

But you got to be someone. You got to see stars.

And you got him.

☆Like my work? Buy me a ko-fi :)☆ Tags: @tragicdruid @lokis-right-femur

[octuscle]

Four T and one C

On campus, they were known only as TTTT. Tanner, Thad, Trent and Trey had known each other since childhood. Their parents were all members of the same country club, their parents all had summer houses in the same area in the Hamptons. It was clear that TTTT would all go to the same college together. With a lot of money from their parents, they had all made it to Yale. Even if not everyone was actually clever enough for it. Fortunately, as Yale alumni and successful investment bankers and lawyers, their fathers and mothers were able to fix that. And so the party at the high school became an Ivy League party. And TTTT were the guests of honor at the party.

Chad's parents weren't in a country club and didn't have a house in the Hamptons. But they were wealthy enough that Chad had somehow managed to find favor in the TTTT's picky eyes. He lived in the same dorm, they had talked at some point. And the fact that Chad was smart and could help them with an exam or two wasn't a disadvantage, of course. The TTTT were all studying business studies, Chad biochemistry. But with an IQ of 142, he was easily able to pick up what little knowledge he needed for an MBA in a lunch break.

The first semester came to an end. TTTT had done reasonably well, Chad already had a job as a working student at a biotech lab and had a good chance of finishing the semester at the top of his class. Nevertheless, he was at every party and if you saw the five of them in their Polo Ralph Laure and Abercrombie & Fitch outfits, you would have thought that all five of them were nothing more than spoiled and stupid frat boys. Until the day the last marketing exam was written. TTTT treated themselves to a beer in the sun on campus in front of the football stadium to celebrate the end of the semester. And then Chad came by. But he wasn't dressed like Chad. He looked like a British hooligan. At least almost. Tight jeans, DocMartens and a tight Fred Perry polo shirt that showed he obviously didn't just spend time in the library and lab. The tight shirt showed off his pecs and biceps pretty well.

“Bro!” said Tanner. “What do you look like? What's with the chav look?” Chad grinned. With that cheeky grin and his haircut, he was still one of them, even if he was dressed differently. “I got this invitation from my new employer. Sick party, all for nothing. And the employees were asked to come in the company colors. And they are yellow and black. And because I didn't have time to change beforehand, I wore the only thing like that I could find. I had it from my exchange year in Berlin. Everyone at my school walked around like that.” Trent grinned. “Sounds sick, dude! Do you think you can get us into the party?” Chad grinned and pulled out four ribbons. “You think I'm forgetting my best bros? Put on your wristbands, they'll get you into anything you want. And here are the tickets for the entrance.” Chad took a look. The nerd still had to study, he still had two exams to write. TTTT did a collective high five. The evening was saved. It would be just the right end to their first semester at university.

The bouncers had had their hands full. The party was an event of the year, crowds of people wanted to get in. TTTT had problems even getting through to the bouncers. But when they showed their tickets, they were waved through. One of the bouncers said to a colleague “What boring philistines!” Fortunately, TTTT didn't hear that. And fortunately, the four of them were so sure of themselves and their appearance that they didn't feel they stood out among the party people.

The party was good. There was plenty to drink, there were hot girls for the four of them to dance with. But the real kick was missing. Trey noticed that the most attractive people were heading towards a door with another group of bouncers in front of it. Trey waved his bros together and headed for the door. “Ribbon only,” grunted one of the gigantic bouncers, pressed into a black and yellow leather suit. Trey grinned. He had pocketed the ribbons and had almost forgotten about them. TTTT put the wristbands on their wrists and passed the gorillas with a grin.

Loud bass thumped at the end of the corridor. Strobe flashes flashed. There was much more yellow and black on the dance floor than on the last dance floor. And the people here were different. Beautiful. But not New England at all. Thad was reminded of Berghain in Berlin. He'd tried to get in once, but even with a wad of dollar bills he hadn't been able to get past the bouncer. But those who had managed to get in often looked like the people dancing on the dance floor here. Thad turned to look at his bros. The three of them had rushed straight onto the dance floor. In their outfits, they stood out like colorful dogs. At least their hairstyles matched the crowd on the dance floor to some extent. Thad rubbed his head. He loved the feeling of freshly shaved sides. Fuck, Trent really looked good with that badass undercut. Thad's cock was getting hard.

The four of them danced in a trance to ecstasy. The hard techno beats thumped through their bones. Every now and then, one of the TTTTs went to the bar and provided the four of them with an energy drink. Last time, the awesome bartender had also slipped Trent a few colorful pills, which the four of them washed down with the candy-sweet drink. I have no idea what time it was. But the party had only just started. According to his watch, it was 06:00 in the morning when Tanner had to go to the toilet. The room was overcrowded. A few of the athletes who had gathered here sweating were actually pissing. But most of them were sucking cock or being sucked. Damn, there was a muscular guy at the front wearing nothing but a pair of black and yellow chaps. Tanner had already noticed the guy on the dance floor. Without giving it much thought, he dropped to his knees in front of the Adonis. And sucked the first cock of his life. But no one, not Adonis, not Tanner would have thought that. It was as if it was routine on a club night.

Tanner had swallowed every drop. He wiped the rest from the corner of his mouth and made his way back to the dance floor. Maybe with a detour past the bar. There was a guy sitting at the bar who made Tanner want to get down on his knees again. The guy's bulge in his latex pants looked almost painful. The guy almost grabbed his crotch, kneaded the bulge and asked, “So, Tanner? Do you like sucking cock, you pervy pig?” Tanner winced. He knew that voice. That was… Chad!

Chad grinned, took a swig of beer and unzipped his pants. A monster jumped out of his prison like a jack-in-the-box. Tanner first licked the skin-tight latex-wrapped nipples and then ran his tongue over Chad's washboard abs to the shaved cock. Shit, Tanner was addicted to hot guys' cum. Chad leaned back and enjoyed Tanner's practiced tongue. For a semester, TTTT had taken advantage of him. Always made him feel like a second-class human being. But now? The substance he'd soaked the ribbons with seemed to be working excellently. The dumb college jocks had become techno disciples who followed their DJ gods around the planet from party to party. As guinea pigs for Chad's new employer, they would not become lawyers or investment bankers. But thanks to a lavish expense account, they would be able to lead a very hedonistic lifestyle. And whenever Chad was horny, one of the TTTT would be at his disposal.

Tienn, Tyrus, Tai and Taren were in top form. The party was far from over. They were the stars of the dance floor. Hardly anyone moved to the music like the four of them. When they weren't in the washroom servicing a hot guy they had picked up on the dance floor. One of them always had his eye on Chad. When Chad needed their services, he always had priority. All they were, they were only thanks to Chad.

Pics by @ki-kink

[blingblong55]

Brutal Desire-Simon "Ghost" Riley NSFW

Kintober Day 8

Based on a request: for kinktober can you please make ghost eat us out? like no other action just us, him and his mouth? maybe we're in a relationship with him? Perhaps we came home drunk and got horny? I get turned on when drunk or high so yeah. I'm making this personal but I need this ---- F!Reader, MDNI, 18+, established!relationship, oral!sex, finergering ----

Going home after a night out. Fun. Asking your boyfriend to fuck you senseless… also fun.

Ghost's breath hitched in his throat at your words. Anything, you said. His mind immediately went to the gutter, conjuring up images of you on your knees, your pretty mouth wrapped around his cock, begging him to fuck your throat.

He shook his head, trying to clear the filthy thoughts. "You don’t know what you’re asking for, love," he warned, his voice low and rough with desire. "I’m not a good man. I’ve done things… seen things… that would make your blood run cold."

Ghost took a step forward, closing the distance between you. He could smell your perfume, mixed with the scent of alcohol and marijuana. It was intoxicating, and he felt his resolve weakening by the second.

"You’re playing with fire," he murmured, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. His fingers lingered on your cheek, tracing the delicate bone structure. "I don’t know if you can handle the heat."

His other hand found its way to your hip, gripping it firmly. He pulled you flush against his body, letting you feel the hard length of his cock pressing against your stomach. "Is this what you want?" he growled, grinding his hips against you. "To be fucked by a brutal, broken man? To be used and abused until you're screaming my name?"

His hand slid from your cheek to your throat, applying just enough pressure to make breathing difficult. "I’ll ruin you," he promised, his voice a dark whisper. "I’ll fuck you so hard, so deep, that you’ll forget your name. I’ll make you mine, body and soul. And I won’t let you go until I’m satisfied."

Ghost’s eyes were dark and wild behind the mask, his pupils blown wide with lust. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his blood roaring in his ears. He wanted you more than he had ever wanted anything in his life. But he knew that once he started, he wouldn’t be able to stop.

You took his hand and nodded, “I want to,” you softly said.

Ghost’s heart raced as you took his hand, your soft voice confirming your consent. He felt a surge of primal desire course through his veins, and his grip on your hip tightened.

"Alright then, love," he growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Let’s get started."

In one swift motion, Ghost lifted you off your feet and carried you towards the stairs. He didn’t bother with the lights, preferring the darkness to hide the intensity of his desire. As he ascended the stairs, he could feel your heart pounding against his chest, your breath coming in short gasps.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Ghost kicked open the door to his bedroom and tossed you onto the bed. He followed you down, hovering over your body, his hand still gripping your throat.

"Strip," he commanded, his voice a harsh whisper. "Now."

Ghost watched as you fumbled with your clothes, your hands shaking with anticipation. As each article of clothing fell to the floor, he felt his cock throb in his trousers, urgent and needy.

Once you were fully naked, Ghost leaned back to admire the view. Your body, with its soft curves and supple skin, was a sight to behold. He licked his lips, imagining himself exploring every inch of you with his fingers, his mouth, and his tongue.

"You’re fucking beautiful," he rasped, his hand trailing down your body, skimming over your nipples and stomach before finally reaching the apex of your thighs. "And you’re all mine."

Without warning, Ghost plunged two fingers into your wet heat, feeling your walls clench around his digits. He pumped his fingers in and out, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing it in tight circles.

You moaned, arching your back and pushing your hips against his hand. Ghost chuckled darkly, enjoying the sight of you writhing beneath him. "That’s it, love. Let me hear you," he purred.

Ghost’s eyes darkened with lust as he watched you moan, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. Your expression of desire and submission sent a jolt of electricity straight to his cock, making it twitch and throb in his trousers.

"Fuck, you’re so responsive," he growled, his fingers continuing their relentless assault on your pussy. The wet, obscene sounds of his fingers pumping in and out filled the room, mixing with your breathy moans.

Unable to resist any longer, Ghost leaned down and captured your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue delved into your mouth, exploring and claiming every inch of it. He could taste the alcohol and marijuana on your tongue, mixed with the unique flavour that was distinctly you.

As he deepened the kiss, Ghost’s free hand roamed over your body, mapping out every curve and dip. His calloused fingers traced the lines of your ribs, the swell of your breasts, the valley between your thighs. He revelled in the feel of your soft, warm skin under his touch and the way your body arched into him, seeking more of his attention.

Ghost broke the kiss, leaving you both panting and flushed. He sat back on his haunches, his fingers still buried deep inside you. "You want more, don’t you?" he asked, his voice a low, seductive rumble. "You want to feel my cock stretching you open, filling you up until you can’t take any more?"

He withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his mouth and sucking your essence from his digits. "You taste fucking amazing, love," he purred, his eyes locked on yours. "I can’t wait to eat this sweet pussy of yours."

With that, Ghost dove between your legs, his tongue replacing his fingers. He lapped at your folds, savouring the taste of your arousal, before focusing his attention on your clit. He circled the sensitive bud with the tip of his tongue, flicking and teasing. “Oh f-fuck,” you say before covering your mouth.

Ghost chuckled, his lips brushing against your inner thigh as he continued his ministrations. "Don’t be shy now, love," he murmured, his tongue swirling around your clit with increasing intensity. "Let me hear you scream."

He could feel your body writhing beneath him, your hips bucking and grinding against his face. The sight of you so lost in your pleasure only fuelled Ghost’s desire, his cock straining against his trousers.

With one hand, Ghost reached up and pinched a nipple, twisting it gently as he continued to torment your clit with his tongue. He could sense your orgasm building, the way your body tensed, the way your hips jerked against his face.

"Cum for me," he growled, his words vibrating against your clit. "Let me taste your sweet release."

And with those words, your body arched off the bed, your back bowing as you came undone beneath Ghost’s skilled touch. He lapped up every drop of your release, savouring the taste as he continued to pleasure you through your orgasm.

When you finally slumped back onto the bed, Ghost wiped his mouth and grinned up at you. "Well, that was a sight to behold," he breathed, his breathing heavy and ragged from his exertions.

Tags:

@liyanahelena @goldenmclaren @ghostslillady @moonsua1 @frizzseaberries @frazie99 @idklols @katybaby00 @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @alxexhearts @juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @strangepuppynightmare @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @nellsbobells @ikohniik @nobodys-coffee @strawberrychita @sae1kie @queen-ilmaree @Llelannie @Macnches2 @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @1234beeandpuppycat @sparky--bunny @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @pinkblossomsworld @lovelyvqer @the_royal_bee @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @asianbutnotjapanese @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @born4biriyani @mychemichalimalance @marshiely @iruzias @sleepyycatt @noodlezz-bedo @trinthealternate @azkza @VampyTheGoth

[solar4seekstron]

Tf1! Orian Pax one day seeing this normally quiet miner! Reader sneaking off. And gotten curious he decided to follow. Leading to a very hidden place that he had no clue existed yet, forgotten and high up, he finally climbed up and he was in awe. As the reader found a rare glimpse of the starry night of the surface... you cook with the rest of it my dear.

That’s really good!!! I shall do my best.

Orion Pax x Cybertronian!Reader Oneshot: Special Spot

(I didn’t know if you meant actually on the surface or not but a few guys ago I went to the mountains with my family. Some people lived in really nice houses in the mountains so that gave me an idea! I hope you still enjoyed! Or just DM to yell at me if I got it wrong lol)

I decided this would be cute of Orion Pax finally gaining the strength to tell his crush his feelings and after finding their little special spot close to the surface. He’s so fixated, he forgets his nervousness and finally has a chance to get a spark mate.

TW/Tags: Wholesomeness and fluff, Orion is precious, reader is quiet, this is so sweet you might get sick lol

Orion pax has always noticed you. Although you were always quiet and didn’t speak much. Until a superior or- Elita spoke to you. You always seemed in a good mood and when he tried talking to you. Your words are always sweet and soft. Hell to the others it seems like you don’t even know the concept of sarcasm. Since everyone else does it with him but when he’s with you. He actually feels no attacked.

Over time. He grew a bit of a crush on you. Although not with much to say. And would never threaten him with beating him with a shovel. Your actions always spoke louder. He knew that tonight is going to be the night.

So once everyone else has fallen asleep. He makes his way towards you and once at your sleeping spot. He noticed when pointing his helm out of the corner, you were- AWAKE?!?! He watched you

You were walking away and made your way out of the mining quarters. He followed behind you to where you don’t notice him

———————————————————————————

After some time you continue to make your way to a certain spot. Right between two buildings that are higher up a sort of mountain. A steep hill the buildings were set on

Once you made it there you leaned your back against the wall. There was an amazing view once you looked up. An opened window to the stars of the surface. Although it wasn’t that big. It was just enough for you to see. You continued to stare up. Not noticing Orion snuck up next to you. He then leaned down a bit close to your audio sensors and whispered as gently as he can “what are we looking at?”

This startled you. You were quick to back up your arms in front of you to protect yourself. Orion had his hands up and looked at you.

“Woah. Easy. I ain’t here to hurt ya or anything.” You just looked at him. Looking back at the ground and back at him a few times. He realized you were worried and thought fast.

“Hey,..I won’t snitch if that’s what you’re worried about…I have my secrets too around this city..” he chuckled. You stayed still for a moment looking at him. But then you’d slowly give him that usually warm smile and looked back up at the stars. Orion looked up too. Took him a moment but he was able to finally see them. He was amazed. So enchanted he was actually quiet for a moment.

You let out a sigh as you close your eyes “one day I’m going to fly under those stars. Only closer to them then…” Orion glanced at you and gently smiles. His optics soft

You two stand there looking up for a few more Nano Kliks until Orion finally spoke. His fight gently touching yours.

“So um….you wanna…goooo”

“Yeah Orion. I’ll let you court me”

Orion turned to the opposite side of you raising his arm and first as he closed his optics and whispered “yes!!!!”

You chuckled your helmet resting on his shoulders as you closed your optics. Your hand holding his until they interlocked. Orion continued to look at the stars. He was so happy.

Hope y’all enjoyed!