#it was a bit uh. disapproving
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eyedruple · 3 days ago
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don’t get me wrong i love the concept of rudie x shrimpo and rudie js. i think rudie would continually crash tf out of shrimpo bc “santas always watching” or smth bc it doesnt want shrimpo/anyone on the naughty list. send post
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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year ago
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OH I WOULD RISK IT ALL FOR ARUNA HOLY SHIT
so would astarion apparently !
and the entire camp with the way those fucking exclamation points keep popping up
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tender-rosiey · 4 months ago
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Hi. This is my first time writing arequest so i dont really know what im doing but i love your husband sukuna series and i wanna ask for a husband sukuna with a shy baby daughter bc your sukuna is 🤌
reluctance — ryomen sukuna x f!reader
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a/n: so glad you like my husband!sukuna works <33 hope this one is to your liking as well MWUAH 🫶
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“come on, d/n,” you coax gently.
your daughter, barely two years old, shakes her head from behind your legs, her tiny hands clutching the fabric of your kimono as she hides from the imposing figure of her father.
sukuna stands at the doorway, his arms crossed, his usual stern expression in place.
“she’s still hiding?” sukuna raises an eyebrow, his deep voice filling the room, though it isn’t harsh.
you kneel, gently petting your daughter’s head, “she’s shy. you know how she gets when you’re around.”
sukuna exhales slowly. he observes your daughter quietly. wide-eyed but cautious, her tiny fingers tightening their grip on you. your daughter was notably quite soft.
it didn’t help that her father, sukuna, didn’t exactly have the most inviting presence.
“come here,” he says, his tone gruff, holding out a hand.
the little girl hesitates, her bottom lip trembling slightly. you place a reassuring hand on her back and whisper softly, “it’s okay” you smile, “that’s your dad; he won’t hurt you.”
at your words, sukuna looks down at your daughter, his daughter.
she looks up at you, then back at sukuna. with the smallest shuffle, she takes one step toward him then sees him quirk an eyebrow which makes her quickly retreat, still unsure.
sukuna clicks his tongue, while you giggle. your daughter clings harder onto you at the sound of his disapproval.
“she sure is jumpy,” he says, stretched hand moving to rest on his hips, “how the hell is that my daughter?”
“ever studied biology?”
“do not get smart with me,” he warns, but his threats have long lost their effect on you.
the little interaction gives your daughter a sense of familiarity, seeing you talk so easily with him. with some courage finally mustered, your daughter blinks up at sukuna, her small voice barely audible as she mumbles, “papa...?”
sukuna’s sharp gaze relaxes just the faintest bit at the sound of her voice, “yes. I’m right here.”
she stares for another moment, before she toddles over to him. she stumbles and holds desperately onto his legs. she looks up at him, and he gives her no reaction.
your daughter takes that as a good sign, and she looks back at you with sparkly eyes.
“there you go,” you laugh, standing up. “see? not so bad.”
sukuna looks at your daughter, then back at you, “you coddle her too much.”
you fold your arms with a playful smirk, “she’s two. she’s allowed to be coddled a little.”
“she’ll be stronger if she learns early.” sukuna’s voice is firm. she is clinging to him now, a little less hesitant as she begins to tug at his kimono.
she lets out small mumbles as she tries to gain his attention.
"uh-huh, sure," you tease, stepping closer and placing your hand on his forearm, "you’re so tough, honey. maybe we should get her a little curse to toughen her up. would that make you happy?"
he scoffs but doesn’t answer, his attention flicking back to the girl holding onto him. you could see the faintest hint of something in his expression, though it wasn’t something he would ever acknowledge verbally.
for some reason, the scene of his daughter faced with a curse, at least in this age, doesn’t particularly please him.
her eyes are soft. her entire being is. there is no way that she would survive, and knowing his little daughter, she will burst into tears the moment the curse appears. that conclusion makes him think.
he stays silent, before he finally mutters, "never mind. she's fine the way she is.”
you beam at his words and pull his face down to place a kiss on his cheek, “aww, you are going soft, yay!”
“I will kill you,” he sneers, but then he feels his daughter raise her arms. he looks down at her with a scowl, “what do you want, you brat?”
the tone makes her flinch back, but then she tightens her fist and stutters, “u-up!”
“you and your mother are insolent,” he side-eyes you, and you raise your hands in surrender. his eyes flick back to her, “you ordering me around?”
her eyes start to water, but she tries to persevere, “up…?”
your husband groans and bends down to pick her up. the way he gives into her demands is sweet in its own way.
it would make you laugh, if he didn’t pick you up in process which instead makes you gasp. now, both you and your daughter are carried—effortlessly—in his arms.
you smile widely at your husband, while he avoids looking at you. sukuna instead looks at you daughter. he then asks, “are you happy now?”
your daughter stares silently at him, and he stares at her back. in the midst all this staring, your daughter realizes something: her dad has a second face.
her lips start quivering, and she raises her hands to cover her face as she starts bawling and wailing
“ugh, why is she crying now?” your husband groans, irked by the sudden loud noise.
“your face probably scares her.”
“I hate kids.”
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copyright © tender-rosiey
do not copy or plagiarize
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halfvalid · 1 year ago
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pretty in that
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ABOUT
rating: general audiences
characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!monkey d. luffy | live action!nami
pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader
word count: 4.2k
description: you have a hard time picking a dress for dinner whilst in kaya's mansion. zoro (sort of) helps!
tags: strawhat!reader, female reader, fluff, kissing, confessions, no use of "y/n", special straw hat appearances (nami & luffy), soft zoro
author's note: i'm a sucker for dress-up scenes so i KNEW i was gonna write smth like this once that ep3 scene started playing. reader chooses a dress at the end; dress is non-described so you can imagine your ideal dress!
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You were on Nami and Zoro’s side when it came to whatever was going on in Syrup Village. Kaya’s mansion made you feel vaguely unsettled, and stepping into the building made your heart pound quicker than you would like to admit. But if there was one thing that piqued your interest, it was the order of changing clothes for dinner. You’d been stuck in the same few outfits for weeks now, and the promise of something new—and formal—was nearly exciting, although you’d never admit it in front of Nami and her disapproving gaze. 
Kaya’s kindness combined with the private guest room and bath you were treated to helped soothe your nerves. Soon you found yourself being led to the giant closet the rest of the Straw Hats were already in—Nami was trying on various different pieces, and Zoro seemed to have something in hand too. 
“Ah, there you are!” Luffy said, swiveling on his heel and giving you a big grin as you entered the room. You stared in disbelief at all of the racks around you. Hell, there were even clothes hanging from the ceiling. 
“Well, we certainly have a lot of options,” you said, skimming a hand over a nearby rack. There were a variety of different fabrics, but they all felt expensive: silk and velvet, damasks and brocades. “I don’t even know where to start.” 
“I’m just trying on anything,” Nami called from where she was, before stepping out from the room divider she’d been changing behind. She wore an emerald dress with a plunging neckline, the patterned silk clinging to her curves, and did a little spin. “What do you think?” 
Luffy shrugged. Zoro wrinkled his nose, barely glancing up from the armchair he was lounging on. “I think it looks nice,” you offered, but Nami still seemed dissuaded. 
“Ugh, these two are impossible. What are you going to wear?” 
“Uh, I’m getting there,” you said with a little laugh. “It’s a bit overwhelming; I’d rather help you guys pick first. Luffy, have you found something yet?” You turned towards the man in the center of the room, who nodded enthusiastically. 
“Yeah, I found this!” He raised up a black waistcoat. You frowned at it. 
“Um, Luffy, waistcoats are supposed to be worn with a suit,” you said, then paused, seeing his blank look. “...Never mind.” 
“And I’m wearing black,” Zoro added, despite the piece of clothing slung along his lap definitely not being black. You exchanged a glance with Nami, who just rolled her eyes. They’re stupid, she mouthed, then returned to the rack she was glancing through. She worked quickly, pulling out various numbers that she scrutinized before either setting on the couch beside her or putting back. 
“Okay,” you said slowly. “Need me to find you some pants with that, Cap?” Nami and Zoro let out identical groans as you spoke the pet name, both turning to give you exasperated looks. You suppressed your laugh. 
“Stop calling him that,” Zoro said with a tired sigh. “You’re encouraging him.” 
“Kind of the point, yeah,” you said cheerfully. While Zoro and Nami were both still largely unconvinced about the whole pirate crew thing, you’d joined the bandwagon rather quickly. Zoro rolled his eyes, and you turned towards the racks to find Luffy some slacks. “Assumedly you need something other than that shirt too?” 
“I’ll look later,” Zoro said passively. You watched him out of your peripheral vision. He was outfitted in a patterned kimono, his three swords slung along his lap. He didn’t seem too interested in his surroundings, though what he was doing, you weren’t sure. You let him be, turning to page through the racks of clothes again. Finally you found a pair of slacks that seemed like they’d fit Luffy. 
“Here,” you said, passing them over to him. “And find some shoes while you’re at it.” 
“Why does she even have clothes that don’t fit her?” Zoro murmured, sounding as baffled as he could get. “What, she just casually has clothes in all four of our sizes hanging around?” 
“Rich people own things just to own them,” Nami called. She’d changed again; this dress had a halter neckline and was blush pink. Zoro motioned with a hand at it, and Nami frowned, glancing down at the dress. “You don’t like it?” 
“Eh,” Zoro said. Nami made a face. 
“At this point I think you’re hating just to hate.” She pulled up a few more options, narrowing her eyes as she surveyed them. Luffy was seemingly satisfied with what you’d given him, because he took the pieces off of their hangers and slung them over his shoulder. 
“I’m off,” he announced. “Gonna go change in my room and do some exploring before dinner. Have fun!” With that, he left, and Nami sighed, turning towards you. She held up her final two options—a red cheongsam with delicate gold embroidery and a pastel blue dress with an a-line skirt. You gnawed on your bottom lip as you studied the two.
“I think the blue one might wash you out a bit,” you said eventually; it’d clash with her hair no doubt, and make her skin look even paler. The shade wasn’t a right match with her eyes, either. “I like the cheongsam; I think you should go with that one. It contrasts nicely with your hair.” 
Nami raised up the dress again, inspecting it. “You’re right,” she said, ducking back behind the room divider to change. You started pursuing the racks again; Nami stepped out a few moments later, successfully outfitted in her new dress. “Okay, I’m going to go do my hair in my guest room. Good luck.” 
“Bye,” you called, watching as she left the room. You clicked your tongue, almost alone now and with absolutely zero options of clothing. As much as you liked the idea of new clothes, the abundance of options was starting to seem a little daunting. “Okay, now that Nami’s done, it’s my turn to play dress-up.” 
Zoro laughed from where he sat, and you startled, almost having forgotten he was there. He was watching you attentively, his attention having diverted from whatever it was he’d been thinking about earlier. “You like this kind of thing?” 
“Well, I mean.” You shrugged, peering at a few of the pieces on the rack in front of you. You pulled out a deep green dress, eyeing the lace by the neckline before setting it back. “It’s kind of fun, isn’t it?” 
“Not really what I’m into.” 
“You wear jewelry, so clearly you have some fashionable instinct,” you pointed out, bending over to glance at the clothes hiding by your knees. These were all skirts or unreasonably short dresses, with so little fabric you were uncertain they would cover anything at all. “Unless the earrings are for another reason…?”
“Three swords, three earrings.” 
“Makes sense. What are you wearing with your shirt?” You glanced back to see Zoro’s answer, but he merely shrugged. “Do you want me to find you some trousers? A suit?” 
“You don’t need to find clothes for me. I can do that myself.” Still, Zoro made absolutely no move to do so. You rolled your eyes, but turned your attention back on what you’d be wearing for the dinner. Vaguely you wondered how Zoro would look wearing a suit. You flushed almost as soon as the thought popped into your head, shoving it into the very back of your skull and banishing it from seeing the light of day. 
“If you say so,” you said instead, mostly to distract yourself from the beyond inappropriate thoughts starting to run through your head. Honestly, you barely knew your crew mates—the four of you were close to tearing each other’s throats out before you ran into Buggy, after all. And the fact that Zoro was, well, conventionally attractive—and you tried to keep your thoughts on that and that alone, anything emotional was strictly out of the question—shouldn’t be something your mind lingered on. 
You picked out the first dress that looked to be your size. It was dark purple, backless with a tight trumpet skirt. Ducking behind the room divider Nami had used, you stripped off your clothes, donning the dress. There was a mirror along the other side of the divider, and you turned, trying to appraise the dress on your figure. The color didn’t look entirely right, and you were uneasy about the lack of mobility the skirt might have—Kaya’s staff were still extremely suspicious, after all, and you’d rather be safe than sorry. 
“Let me see,” Zoro called from outside. You tugged at the dress, suddenly nervous, but stepped out after you couldn’t find a good enough excuse not to. Zoro’s eyes ran up and down your figure, and you did a slow circle, showing off the dress. The bare skin of your back prickled. 
“You’re not going to be able to move in it,” he eventually said. 
You huffed out a breath, the nervous energy that had accumulated in your chest leaving with the action. Something in your belly stirred; disappointment, maybe, that Zoro had only commented on the practicality of the dress, not how you looked in it. But you pushed those thoughts away with an angry shove. Not the time, and definitely not the person to be thinking those sorts of things about. “Yeah, that’s what I was worried about. Let me find something else.” 
Zoro’s gaze didn’t flicker from your body as you started across the room, ducking between more racks to find something. “You dead-set on a dress?” 
“I haven’t worn a dress in a while,” you answered, picking out a red one before remembering Nami’s choice and setting it back. “Might as well take the opportunity.” The next one you pulled was blue, all shiny and soft. The material looked like some kind of tender silk. You set it aside to try on. “Why?” 
“Haven’t seen either you or Nami in a dress before.” 
“Actually, you have. I’m wearing one right now and Nami tried like five on earlier,” you said, glancing over your shoulder to shoot Zoro an unimpressed look. He scoffed, though there was a smile at the edges of his mouth as he turned his head away. Your next choice was soft pink, and made of tulle that vaguely resembled a puff pastry. You pulled it up. “Think I should try it?” 
“I mean, pick whatever,” Zoro said, though he seemed mildly disgusted by the amount of fabric the skirt had, all bunched up with layers like something a ballerina might wear. “What are you trying to achieve with the dress?” 
“What am I—I’m trying to look nice, Zoro,” you said, stifling your laughter. You set the pink dress back, replacing it with a sage green number instead. “Not everything has ulterior motives.” 
“You always look nice.” 
You froze, a soft chill curling around the back of your neck. Carefully, you straightened up from where’d you been bent over yet another rack of clothes, turning to look Zoro in the eye. His eyes hadn’t moved. “Oh,” you managed out, throat all dry and tongue like sandpaper in your mouth. “Well, thank you.” 
Zoro cleared his throat, a dull noise he made in the hollow of his throat without even parting his lips. His gaze flickered away. “Yeah. Go try those on.” 
Wordlessly, you stepped back behind the room divider and slipped on the blue dress. It had a texture like water—it was some kind of high-end silk, flexible enough that it was near liquid in movement. The dress itself fell to your ankles, and had a simple square neckline. You stepped outside, doing another slow twirl. “Better,” Zoro said. 
“Better how?” 
“You can probably run in it.” 
You twisted your lips, trying to suppress the urge to turn them down into a frown. “Okay. It’s not doing it for me.” You ducked back behind the divider to change yet again; the sage green one was satin, with long sleeves and a neckline you hadn’t anticipated would be that deep. 
Still, upon exiting the divider and turning for Zoro again, he didn’t have any worthwhile feedback. “It’s kind of plain,” he said eventually, not meeting your eyes. 
You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest; you had to almost resist stomping over to the racks to find something more, and spent another few minutes gathering dresses and trying them on. 
To your immense disappointment, each one garnered little to no reaction from Zoro. You even shoved on one of the tiny, too-little fabric dresses you’d disapproved of earlier, but all Zoro did was scan you from head to toe and say, rather flatly, “you’d get stabbed pretty easily in that.” 
Frustration bled into your nerves as you hid behind the divider again. You glared at yourself in the mirror—your skin had started flushing with how annoyed you were getting, which might’ve been funny had you not been so ticked off. Men, you thought, irritated. Was it really so hard to tell you that you looked pretty? 
He’s a bounty hunter, you had to remind yourself. He doesn’t care about this kind of thing. Besides, he was the last person you should be setting your sights on anyway. You tugged at the short dress, the hem just barely grazing the tops of your thighs. 
You heard footsteps approaching from outside the divider, suddenly too close as you snapped yourself out of the reverie of thoughts you’d been lost in. Zoro turned the corner, arm propped up against the divider edge as he peered in, brows furrowed. “You stopped coming out,” he said. He was still in his kimono, swords tossed over one shoulder. The shirt he had was, assumedly, left on the couch he’d finally stood up from. 
“I’m frustrated,” you told him blandly. His frown deepened. 
“Because of… clothing?” 
You suppressed the sigh that threatened to escape your lungs. “Never mind. I’m fresh out of ideas.” You pushed past Zoro, opting to stand in the center of the room as if analyzing it from a different view would magically give you more options. Zoro turned to stare, still looking perplexed. “With so many options, it’s hard to make up my mind, that’s all.” 
“Uh huh.” Zoro was still studying you. “Did I do something?” 
“What? No,” you said hastily. Too hastily. The words had ripped out of your throat like a hiccup, and you seriously needed to learn how to lie a bit better because now Zoro’s expression was even more confused. “No. Why would I be mad at you?” 
“I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.” 
“It’s nothing,” you insisted, turning away from Zoro to stare at some of the clothes hanging on the wall above his head. These were too high up to properly look at, and as you stepped back, you glanced through the dresses hanging off the arch of the ceiling. You perused them without too much interest, eyes glancing over the various colors and fabrics until— 
Zoro stepped next to you. “Hey,” he said, and you jolted, head snapping down to look at him. You let out a noise of irritation, then turned your focus back on the ceiling. 
Your gaze flickered through the racks until finally falling on one particular dress hanging by the mouth of the room. It was somewhat hidden, tucked in a little corner beside a few other pieces, but from your vantage point it seemed about your size. 
You took a step closer to it, surveying it with your neck craned. The material looked soft and comfortable but it still retained shape, and the color—even in the dim lighting of the closet—was one of your favorites. The undertone would suit your skin perfectly. And, well, you didn’t want to put all your bets on one dress you hadn’t even touched, but it was certainly promising. 
Zoro stepped past you, barely exerting any effort to reach up and bring the dress down from where it hung up high. “This one, right?” he asked, and you swallowed, some of the annoyances you had towards him dissolving as he extended the dress hanger towards you. You nodded wordlessly, taking it. You stood there for a second before Zoro gestured with his head towards the divider. “Go try it on.” 
You did so, retreating safely behind your wall and stepping out of the little dress. You surveyed the one Zoro had grabbed for you again, heart lodged in your throat. It really was beautiful, and exactly your style; now that you saw it up close, you could safely affirm it was your size too, but nervousness still pulsed through your veins at it. 
Carefully, you slipped it on, adjusting the fabric around your hips and fixing up the neckline to rest evenly on your skin.
Zoro spoke out from the rest of the room. “So why are you mad at me?” 
“I’m not—” you sighed, dropping your arms before returning to fiddle with the dress. “I’m not mad at you.” 
“Is it because I wasn’t being helpful with the clothes? Because I already said that’s not exactly my area of expertise—” 
“It’s not because of the clothes, Zoro,” you said sharply, cutting him off. Zoro clicked his tongue, the sound reverberating around the room and thudding in time with your heartbeat. You turned your attention back onto your reflection. “It’s just me being silly. Don’t worry about it.” 
‘I’m worrying about it,” Zoro deadpanned. You sighed, adjusting the dress one final time before arranging your hair and staring at yourself in the mirror. It fit you perfectly, emphasizing all the right places and hiding all the parts of your body you were more insecure about. “Changed yet?” 
“Yeah,” you said, voice limp. 
“Let me see.” 
You bit your lip, suddenly nervous about how he’d react. Knowing him, it’d be something like it’s okay or the color’s fine; perhaps can you even walk in that? or weird shape if he was feeling a little more critical. Still, you stepped out anyway, not meeting Zoro’s eyes as you spun for him, letting him look at the dress from all angles. When you’d finished posing you glanced up, eyes meeting him tentatively. 
“It’s…” Zoro cleared his throat, ripping his gaze away from the dress on your figure to flicker up to your face. His gaze dropped again nearly as fast, like he couldn’t bear to keep eye contact. “Uh.” 
“It’s what?” you prompted, turning to face the nearest mirror. Your lips twisted into a worried frown, turning to glance at the dress again. Was it really not as perfect as you’d thought originally? “Do you like it? It’s my favorite so far, I think, but if you don’t like it—” 
“You look pretty in that,” Zoro blurted, cutting your rambles off with the strident, too-loud sentence. You froze, eyes flickering to meet him in the mirror. Carefully, he glanced up at you, and you could see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. 
“Oh.” 
Zoro coughed, averting his gaze as you slowly turned around to face him. You couldn’t see properly with the less-than-ideal lighting of the room, but his face seemed to have taken on a ruddier complexion. “I like it,” he said, words softer than they’d been before. “It’s the one.” 
There was a little rush of something through your veins, and you felt vaguely lightheaded. “Okay,” you barely managed to squeak out. “Thanks.” You stumbled back behind the divider, sucking in a deep breath and trying to regulate your breathing. God, this was actually shameful at this point. 
You composed yourself quickly, gathering all the dresses you’d tried on and abandoned to return to their proper places. Zoro was still watching you attentively, and you glanced over your shoulder at him. Sparks prickled along your skin as your eyes met. “What?” you asked. 
“You’re acting weird.” 
“Am not.” 
Zoro stood up, rolling back his shoulders and stretching his head from side to side. He glanced through the racks and, without even a minute’s hesitation, plucked a suit jacket and matching pants out from beside him. “Yeah, you are. What’s up?”
“You’re just grabbing those without thinking about it?” you demanded, eager to change the subject. Zoro rolled his eyes.
“I picked them like fifteen minutes ago,” he said. “Just didn’t grab them until you were done your whole… thing. Now spill it. You’re all red again.” 
You swiveled towards the closest mirror, unable to suppress your gape as you saw that your skin had indeed turned a distinctive shade of scarlet, flushed undertones creeping their way up your skin. It was entirely recognizable even in the terrible lighting. Even your skin was treacherous, now. “Nothing,” you muttered, unable to meet Zoro’s eyes as you spit it out. “I was annoyed because you weren’t telling me what you thought of the dresses.” 
“I… did, though?” Zoro said, perplexed. You let out a grating sigh, cheeks flaring even hotter now that he was forcing you to confess the entire extent of your sins. 
“Yeah, like, practically,” you said, wrapping your arms defensively over your chest. “You’ll get stabbed in that so easily. You won’t be able to walk. I just wanted you to tell me that—” you cut yourself off with another groan. “Don’t make me say it.”
Zoro blinked. “I have no idea what you’re edging towards, so you’re going to have to say it.”
“I just wanted you to tell me I looked nice!” you finally burst out, turning so you wouldn’t have to look at Zoro’s face. God, you were going to have to quit the Straw Hats after this. It was so entirely stupid. 
“But—” There was a laugh in Zoro’s voice, and you glared down at the floor, all of your dignity having left you by this point. You had no shame left to feel anymore. “I said ‘you always look nice’. Doesn’t that insinuate—” 
“That’s not the point,” you said hotly, tone almost argumentative now. “I wanted you to think I looked pretty in a dress, Zoro.” 
Zoro didn’t respond for a moment, brows creasing and face taking on a baffled expression. “But why—” Zoro cut himself off, and you turned even redder, holding your breath as he finally connected the dots. A single word fell from his lips, like a soft breath of air as he spoke. “Oh.” 
“Oh,” you muttered under your breath, unable to stop the almost whining tone your voice took on. Zoro stepped closer to you, a hand wrapping around your wrist and forcing you to look up at him. 
“I said you looked pretty in this one.” 
“I know,” you insisted, still all red, “which is why I’m not totally mad at you, but—” 
“You looked pretty in all of them,” Zoro said. He didn’t look bashful, per se—you didn’t think Zoro could get shy—but his voice was low, all hoarse in a more tentative way rather than one of his grating remarks this time. “For the record.” 
Your breath caught. 
“This one’s my favorite, though,” Zoro muttered. And then he was leaning down to kiss you, the ghost of his lips just on the corner of your mouth. You gaped up at him in shock as he averted his gaze, staring at some spot about your head. “Was that—” he started, before clearing his throat and trying again with a little more of his dignity this time. “Was that okay?” 
“Yes,” you blurted fervently, and before you could fix up the moment with something more, well, suitable, your big mouth ruined it for you. “But I think we’re holding up dinner. You should get changed, and I still need to find shoes.” 
You bit your tongue immediately after the words had been said, but it was too late—Zoro coughed, turning away from you. You panicked, and now it was your turn to grab his arm and tug you towards him. “Wait!” 
Zoro glanced down at you, perplexed, and then you leaned up to kiss him square on the mouth. He stumbled back, surprised, but adjusted quickly, hand going to cradle the back of your neck and pressing you right to him before you finally broke apart. 
“You should steal it,” he started. You stared up at him in question. “The dress, I mean. You should steal it.” 
“When am I ever going to need to wear this again?” you asked, perplexed. Zoro shrugged, fingers tugging at the edge of the dress's neckline. 
“Dunno. Just take it. She probably won’t even notice.” 
“You’re adorable,” you teased; Zoro wrinkled his nose but didn’t complain, opting instead to move away and pick up the clothes he still hadn’t changed into. “Go change. See you at dinner.” 
“Yeah,” Zoro said, his eyes not straying from your figure as you ducked out of the room. Before you could fully leave, though, Zoro grabbed your wrist, spinning you around towards him.
You didn’t have enough time to ask what he was doing when he leaned around to kiss you one final time, his hands cradling your face as your lips moved against each other. It was only a moment later that he stepped away, looking rather sheepish but not very apologetic as he finally let you go. 
“You look more than pretty,” he murmured, eyes sinking into yours, and your throat dried, any words you might’ve formed dying away within seconds. “You always look more than pretty. You look gorgeous.” 
“Thank you,” you whispered, and then he ducked back inside the closet to change. 
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© halfvalid 2023
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kitten4sannie · 7 months ago
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trendsetter
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reach for my goals, hit it dead center
pairing: idol ex! mingi x fem! reader
genre: an actual idol au omg, smut
summary: mingi reminds you why he was so hard to leave in the first place, well, the first few times, anyway.
w.c: 3.3k
bc i’m bigger, better
warnings: brief weed use/shotgunning (mingi’s a plug in another life btw <3), mingi’s kinda a dickhead and a master manipulator (damn double homicide), dom! mingi, subby! reader, mingi’s got a big cawk, glove ? kink? idk bro, exhibitionism, teasing, praise/degradation, pet names galore/name calling, tit play, spit, fingering, finger sucking (leads to some gagging), oral (giving), deep-throating, cum eating, grinding, kissing, size kink, breeding kink, mingi fucks reader raw on the hood of her own car hallelujahhhh
a/n: don’t blame me for this btw,, blame mingi mango and the things he’s been posting on ig 😮‍💨 this man makes me delirious istg. also i wrote this while incredibly sleep deprived just so yk !! there might be some grammar and spelling errors (as well as a general sense of lunacy ✨) regardless i hope you enjoy and please do let me know if you liked it bc feedback is like a treat for me and im a treat hungry lil goblin uwu <3
song recs: so damn into you by vlad holiday - come 2 me by johnny goth - liquid by boston manor
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Mingi barely made it two steps past one of the various emergency exit doors of the booming, hectic arena, dropping his lighter on the ground when his favorite ex suddenly came waltzing back into his life again after just swiftly exiting it for the nth time.
“Where are my car keys? I know you have them,” you abruptly confronted him, snatching the lighter from the ground before he could grab it and sliding it inside your tank top, right in between your tits.
“Why would I have your car keys, sugar?” Mingi sighed exasperatedly, walking in your direction until he towered over you, gently clasping his calloused hands around your upper arms so he could rub them up and down in an effort to calm you, gently turning you around until your back pressed into the cool metal of the emergency door. “Can you use that pretty little head of yours for me, Y/N? I just performed right now. I was busy rehearsing before that. Do you really think I would take your keys from you just to keep you from leaving?”
“Yes, I do. You always do some fuck shit like this when I try to leave. Every time, Mingi.” Despite the furrow of your brow and the contempt present within your words, you couldn’t help but watch as Mingi’s thumbs began to press into the sides of your tits. When you didn’t say anything, he began to press the rest of his gloved fingers into the softness of your chest.
“Some fuck shit like this?” Mingi asked under his breath, studying your flushed face to gauge your reaction as he squeezed your tits against the palms of his rough hands, rubbing his thumbs teasingly against the thin material of your sports bra until he felt your nipples harden. “You aren’t tell me to stop, baby. Cat got your tongue?”
“I hate you…” you whispered softly, not understanding why you never had the strength to deny him, even in a public, though empty alleyway, even after you just broke up with him only a little while ago.
“You don’t seem to hate this…Your body’s responding to me…” Mingi suddenly pinched your nipples through your sports bra, chuckling at the gasp you let out. He leaned down, bringing his lips to your ear to whisper, “I bet you don’t hate how wet I’m making you right now, either. Is your cunt throbbing for me already, Y/N?”
“N-no…” You bit into your bottom lip when your ex let out a disapproving ‘uh-uh’ as you turned your head to look away from him, squeezing your thighs together, hoping your arousal wouldn’t drip past your short skirt.
With one hand still clasped around your tit to play with it, Mingi brought the other up to grasp your chin, making you face him again, so close that you were breathing in each other’s air, your parted lips almost touching. “You’ll let me check to see if you’re lying, won’t you, sugar? Can I see how many fingers I can fit inside your tight little cunt?”
You hated how much your body and soul still burned for your lecherous ex, hated how desperate you suddenly were for him to have his way with you, but what you hated most of all was the way you whimpered out, “Please, Minnie.”
Mingi groaned softly at the use of his pet name, feeling most of his blood began to head below the belt, letting go of your chin, the both of you watching as his hand disappeared underneath your skirt. He instantly slipped two thick fingers inside you up to the knuckles, despite wearing a pair of thick leather gloves, the both of you moaning at the squelching sound your bare, wet cunt made. “That’s my girl. You wore this slutty little skirt and no panties just for me, didn’t you? You don’t even care about getting out of here with your keys. You just wanted me to put my hands all over you one last time, yeah?”
Just as you were about to respond, Mingi suddenly stuffed his leather-bound fingers into your mouth, making you taste your own warm wetness. “A-aaahn,” you moaned around his moving digits, feeling them slip along your hot tongue, looking up at your ex’s intensely dark gaze.
“Suck,” he simply requested, smiling fondly at the sight of your plush lips closing around his fingers, pushing them further and further back until he made you gag around them, his cock throbbing at the sight of your teary doe eyes. “Oh, baby, if you’re going to be looking at me like that and making those pretty noises, I’m gonna lose it…but, you can take it, right? My fingers in your throat?”
You whined softly, trying your best not to gag more around his moving fingers, relaxing your throat enough so that the only sound that could be heard was your moans and the abundance of saliva in your mouth.
“Good girl.” Mingi slipped his fingers out of your mouth and pressed his lips onto your cheek, whispering, “Can you take my cock down your throat next, pretty girl? I worked so hard to perform tonight, you know. Don’t you think I deserve head from my favorite ex?”
“Uh-huh,” you found yourself agreeing, your head still fuzzy from having his fingers inside your mouth, desperate to have something else warm and thick on your tongue, thankful for the heavy hand that began to push your head down until your bare knees were resting against the cold concrete below.
“Say ‘aaah’,” Mingi cooed darkly from above, expertly undoing his thick belt buckle and lowering his pants until his stiff, reddened cock smacked up into his abdomen. It was then that his hands were drawn to either side of your head, barely giving you enough time to open your mouth before he thrusted forward, the tip of his cock instantly hitting the back of your throat. “Fuckkkk, that’s a good slut. You don’t have to be my girlfriend to be my fuck toy, huh, baby?”
Your moans of approval were instantly muffled by the massive cock that was being stuffed inside your throat by your eager ex, as you reached up to grasp at his hips, the shiny lighter that was still sitting in between your tits starting to jostle around due to Mingi’s rough movements.
Suddenly reminded of his post-concert ritual, Mingi reached into his back pocket and placed a joint between his lips, then fished the lighter out from between your tits, but not before he squished one of them for the hell of it. He rolled the dial on the lighter a few times before a flame sparked, bringing it up and lighting the tip of his joint.
The strong aroma of Mingi’s flower reached you in an instant, having to blink your many tears away to watch him take a deep puff of it and blow it out into your face. Your lips tingling from the immense stretch, you sputtered around his pulsing cock, suddenly pulling away, letting your spit laced lips rest against his leaking tip, weakly licking at the pre-cum that spilled from it. “M-minnie…”
“Why’d you stop?” Mingi grunted, biting on the tip of the joint to keep it from falling from his lips, looking down at you with his sharp, slightly red eyes. Using his free hand to jerk himself off with his cockhead pressed to your lips and smearing his pre-cum over them just for his own enjoyment, he slowly realized what was up. “Oh, you want a hit? Aren’t you precious? Come here.”
Mingi slowly lowered himself down into a crouching position, letting go of his cock to grab your chin with his arousal coated fingers, taking in a deeper inhale, the majority of the joint turning to ash, just as he flicked it away into the gutter. He pressed his lips onto yours in an open-mouthed kiss, neither of you bothering to close your eyes as he slowly filled your lungs with smoke.
Just as you began to choke while trying to exhale all the smoke, Mingi dragged his tongue across your own and over your top set of teeth just because he felt like it, before standing back up. “I bet you’re feeling real good now, baby. That was top shelf.” He spat into the palm of his hand and lubed up his cock, before patting your cheek and sliding himself back into the hot haven that was your throat, not wasting a single second to begin pumping himself inside it again, almost like he had never stopped.
Now that both your body and brain were delightfully clouded with a heavy, lustful high, you felt like you could cum just from getting ruthlessly throat-fucked alone, your nails digging into Mingi’s bare hips, more and more tears and saliva dripping along your flushed skin the longer he abused your tiny throat with his oversized length.
“Fuck, I can’t handle it when you cry and drool like that just from sucking my cock, baby. I’m gonna fucking cum,” Mingi groaned deeply from above you, rested his forearms against the emergency door, thrusting sloppily into your mouth. He let out a few short, whiny moans once he began to shudder, plunging his throbbing cock deep inside your throat and staying still. “Oh, shit, I’m cumming. Take my load, princess, ohh my god, that’s it.”
You swallowed the warm, salty liquid as it shot down your throat, only to open your mouth and present your tongue when Mingi pulled out and began to slowly milk his cock, taking the rest of his load on your tongue, not swallowing and simply letting it drip down, a few drops spilling down your chin and getting onto your tits.
“Mm, that’s my messy girl. You’re waiting for me to feed it to you, huh?” Mingi licked at his plush lips from witnessing your obedient nod, pushing his soft cock back into his pants and waiting for you to stand up so that he could collect some of the cum that had escaped your mouth and pushed it back into your mouth. “That’s right, babygirl, clean it all up for me. Mm-hmm, just like that.”
Once you slurped the rest of his load off of his fingers, you wrapped your arms around Mingi’s neck, pressing your heated body into his. “Mingiiii, please fuck me, I can’t take it,” you begged him underneath your breath, pressing your lips onto his neck up to his tense jawline.
“Oh, yeah? You can’t live without this dick, can you?” he questioned you huskily, bringing his wrists up to his mouth one by one to pull his gloves off with his teeth, before reaching past your waist to roughly squeeze his warm hands into your ass. When you grimaced up at him, he tugged your skirt up and spread your ass open to run his fingers down your wet slit from behind, making you whimper. “Admit it, and i’ll fuck you stupid, princess.”
Swallowing down any remaining dignity you had along with the remnants of your ex’s load, you lifted one leg up to hook it around his slim waist, allowing him easier access to you wet cunt, shuddering at the sensation of him shallowly slipping his fingers into and out of you just to tease you. “I can’t live without your cock, Mingi, okay? No one fucks me like you do, so please, make me yours.”
Mingi rubbed the abundant wetness around your cunt, licking his lips hungrily, staring down at you past his dark shades. “Right here? Right now?”
“Yes.”
“What if someone sees, princess?”
“I don’t give a fuck if someone sees, just fuck me, please!”
Mingi grinned crookedly, finding deep amusement in your desperation, considering how you were acting just a little while ago. “Where’s your car, baby?”
You pointed down the dark alleyway. “It’s just around the corner over there.”
Mingi looked over his shoulder, then picked you up from the ground, hooking both of your thighs around his waist and carrying you over to your car, massaging his hands into your thighs on the way. “I don’t have any condoms, you know.”
When Mingi laid you down on the hood of your car, the cool metal sending goosebumps up and down your exposed, heated skin, you shook your head and smiled softly. “When has that ever stopped you?”
“Don’t act like you don’t love when I fuck you raw, and leave you stuffed full of my cum…” Still in between your legs, Mingi bent down to leave kisses, licks, and bites along your neck and collarbone, lowering his pants down just enough to free his length, his slick cock growing hard and heavy against your bare cunt. “Fuck, and when I use my fingers to shove my nut back inside your cunt after…mm, I’m honestly surprised you’re not knocked up for me already…”
“Mingi,” you whined disapprovingly, despite the fresh wave of slick coating your ex’s cock as it repeatedly rubbed back and forth along your cunt.
“What, I thought you liked being my cumslut…my little breeding bitch…my pump n’ dump princess…” Mingi recited playfully, teasing your fluttering hole with the tip of his cockhead, just about driving you to the brink of insanity withi his teasing.
“Shut up, Min, oh my god…”
“Why don’t you shut me up then?” he suggested, hovering close enough to your face for you to pull him in for a desperate kiss that consisted mainly of tongue and teeth, your mouths occasionally making contact in between tongue swipes and lip bites, the both of you panting all the while.
Growing impatient, you slipped your fingers into his choppy hair, tugging his head back until your lips parted, a few strands of saliva still connecting them. “If you don’t put your cock inside me in the next two seconds, I’m going to bite it off. You hear me, Song Mingi?”
Groaning breathily when you tugged at his hair again, Mingi let out a few soft chuckles, taking his shades off and setting them down on the corner of the hood. “Using my government name like that….I must’ve teased you too much. My poor angel, so desperate for cock. I’ll fuck you good, baby. I’ll make it up to you,” he sighed, as he wrapped his fingers around his length, guiding the tip to your entrance and sliding all the way in with ease, the both of you letting out obscene moans. Without any hesitation, Mingi began to buck his hips wildly, his metal belt banging against the hood of your car with each thrust. “Oh, fuck. You feel that? Is it good for you?”
“Yes…!” you cried out, barely about to speak, let alone function, now that your beloved ex was rearranging your guts with his colossal cock.
Huffing, Mingi threw your legs up over his shoulders and laid his body weight on you, essentially folding you in half. He ran his tongue along your jaw, before nipping at it, whispering, “God, you’re always so fucking tight, princess. Gonna milk me for all I’ve got, huh? Cuz’ you’re my good little slut, aren’t you?”
“Uh-huh, just for you, Minnie…”
“Mm-hmm, that’s why you’re still here even after you broke up with me earlier, baby…why you’re taking my cock on the hood of your car where anyone can see you…” Mingi continued, squeezing his hands into the plumpness of your thighs, getting a good grip on them, so that he could drive himself into you as hard as he possibly could, punching short, breathy moans out of you. “You sound so pretty for me, baby, and fuck, you’re so wet right now….You’re gonna cream all over my cock, aren’t you?”
As soon as it felt like Mingi’s oversized cock had slammed directly into your cervix, you let out an abrupt yell, an overwhelming amount of pleasure suddenly shooting through your body like lightning. “Fuck…! I’m cumming, Minnie, it’s so– oh my god.” You were gonna start whimpering and crying when Mingi gently placed his warm hand over your mouth, watching him nod his head knowingly at you, his suddenly softened gaze never leaving yours.
“That’s a good girl, such a good girl for me, Y/N,” Mingi sighed against your ear, the hot, wet sounds of your bodies colliding together and the ringing inside your ears almost too loud for you to hear him properly. Feeling your wetness pour out onto his cock, Mingi let go of your mouth and cradled your face instead, pressing slow, meaningful kisses onto your lips, a few drops of sweat dripping along the shaved sections of his hair just as your trembling fingers drifted along it. “Want it inside, yeah?”
“Yeah…” you whispered against his moving lips, not even realizing when you were clutching him impossibly close to you.
“That’s my baby…” Mingi pulled all the way out, your mixed arousal forming a milky foam around the base of his cock, before he slowly pushed all the way back in, just in time for him to paint your insides white with his seemingly endless load. He hugged you close to him all the while, pressing kiss and kiss onto your lips, face, and neck, knowing that your turbulent time together was about to come to an end, and wishing he could turn the clock back to spend another second with you.
Once your highs began to fade, you cleared your throat and slowly sat up, the both of you silently fixing your disheveled clothes and hair in a poor attempt to look presentable in the case of a random passerby.
“So…since you don’t have my keys, I’m not sure how I’m gonna get out of here,” you sighed, about to push yourself off of the hood of your car when Mingi helped you off instead, annoyed that he was suddenly acting gentlemanly when he had shown you nothing of the sort beforehand.
Smiling apologetically, Mingi fished around in one of his pockets and held your keys up to you. “I took them out of your purse before the show started.” Seeing the anger blossom on your pretty, flushed face, he continued, “Listen, I just wanted you to hear me out before you left and never came back to me, baby. I love you.”
You snatched the keys out of his hand and crossed your arms over your chest, leaning back to sit on the hood of your car, keeping your thighs pressed together to keep everything from leaking out of you. “You don’t get to say that after you just made me your ‘pump n’ dump princess’, you idiot.”
“But I didn’t dump you, Y/N. You’re the one who dumped me!” Mingi whined, his lower lip jutting out in a pout, his brown eyes growing wide and puppy-like.
You couldn’t help but begin to laugh, not only at the ludicrous situation you were both in, but at the truth of his statement. Wiping a tear from your eye, you clicked your keys to unlock your car and walked around to the driver’s side.
“Where are you going? Are you leaving me?”
“No, we’re going to the store to get Plan B, dummy. I’m not about to let Mingi Jr. run around and terrorize the city,” you replied, gazing at your ex, the sight of his childlike amusement making you feel a bit soft towards him.
“I call shotgun!” Mingi called, eagerly heading to the passenger door, practically bouncing on his heels.
“There’s only two of us,” you giggled, sitting down in the car with him.
“For now.” Mingi wiggled his eyebrows at you.
You turned the ignition on, shaking your head, the corners of your lips hurting from how long you had been smiling. “Never say that shit again.”
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boysmentfs · 29 days ago
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The trip to the beach.
A collaboration with @misctf .
Steve was the most cliché of the word "nerd" with only 5'4 tall, with pimples and with irritating little voice he was the target for the jock boys in his university. But despite being victim of sneers and bullying, he was the happiest student in college, he always smiled, helped people and was quite studious. So the mockery towards him mattered little to him. Today was a beautiful Saturday afternoon, Steve was studying hard in his room, he didn't have any plans for today and he didn't care to have one either, his parents were not home so he enjoyed being alone quietly until someone knocked on his house door.
"Who could it be?" Steve sighed, “I’m really behind on my work.” He looked at the essay he was in the midst of completing, “I should...” The second knock was louder, “Must be important.”
Steve quickly made his way to the front door. As he went to open it, he paused. He could hear the boisterous laughter from the other side, the frequent use of the word ‘bro’, and a few belches. His stomach dropped.
“What could they possibly want?” Steve thought miserably, “I should really...” He sighed. It wasn’t in his nature to just ignore someone. What if they needed help?
“Oh shit! Look who it is! What’s up lil’ bro?” Garrett laughed, emphasizing the word ‘lil’. He put his arms behind his head, his biceps bulging.
“Uh hey.” Steve stammered, “Uhm, I...I...” His mind was racing, trying not to stare. Garrett was rather good-looking- dark hair and eyes, his chiseled face framed by a well-groomed, short beard. And looking further down, it was obvious that his years on the baseball team did wonders for his body- all of which was framed nicely in his tight tank-top, “Sorry, just studying today.” Steve blushed, mentally admonishing himself for making it so obvious that he had a thing for the star pitches on the team.
"Studying?! Lil’ dude, come on.” Garrett groaned, nudging one of the other jocks, “Seriously dude, how lame. How about this? We came here to invite you to the beach.” He placed his firm rugged hand on Steve’s shoulder and grinned, “Lil’ dude, it’s gonna be fuckin’ lit. Cheerleaders, booze, you name it. When’s the last time you did something like that, huh lil’ dude?”
Hearing this, Steve raised an eyebrow. None of these things were as appealing to him as Garrett likely thought they’d be. Although, the naively optimistic part of Steve wanted to imagine this could be the start of a friendship with Garrett. Part of him yearning for closeness with the jock. But Steve shook his head before adjusting his glasses- on what planet would he ever be friends with Garrett?
"I don't want to be rude or offensive, but why are you inviting me?” Steve questioned, “Jake and Logan were just bullying me the other day.” The two jocks behind Garrett snickered, earning them a disapproving look from Garrett.
"I know... Dude, but believe me we want to make peace, me and my bros promise we won't make fun of you again!” Garrett replied, no hint of insincerity in his tone, “Besides, it's Saturday and being at home? It's boring as hell."
Steve sighed, mulling over the offer. Would it be nice not to be bullied by these meatheads? Yeah. Would it be nice to spend time with Garrett? Yeah. Did he really think they’d make peace after this? Steve sighed again- the rational part of him saying to shut the door. The other saying to give these bros a chance.
"Okay, okay... I’ll go.” Steve said, the uncertainty of his choice evident in his voice.
“Oh sick lil’ bruh, but like, don’t sound too disappointed.” Garrett laughed, slapping him on the back and knocking the wind out of his small frame.
“But really, I’m doing this to make peace.” Steve insisted, “No funny business.” He tried to sound confident and stern. Garrett smiled and gave him an enthusiastic thumbs up, “Oh and..." Steve bit his lip, “This is so embarrassing but it’s been so long since I’ve been to the beach. I don’t really have any appropriate swimwear.”
"That shouldn't worry you bro! Give me a second." Garret grinned, “You’re just in luck, lil’ dude.” Garrett seemed way too excited, “Check out these!” His bro reached into a bag and handed him some green shorts with a bit of blue and gave them to Steve. "Here! These shorts belonged to one of our bros. Well former bro. He went on to bigger and better things.” Garrett sighed, “Internship or some shit. Brains and brawn, can you believe it?” The other jocks snickered.
Steve looked at the shorts and made a face of disgust. Did Garrett and his bros really think he would wear someone else’s shorts? Why did they seem to have them ready too? Steve awkwardly grabbed the shorts, and looked back over at the group of jocks.
"Garrett... I uh." Steve could see the look of excitement in Garrett’s eyes. Like he was proud of something, “I don’t really feel comfortable wearing another guy’s shorts. And besides, these aren’t going to fit me."
“And why not, lil bro? I wear my bro’s stuff all the time.” Garrett grinned, “I understand that you don't have the same muscle mass as us, but they’re shorts, shorts look good on everyone."
"Yes... but..." Steve sighed- how was he going to make these oafs understand his discomfort when they clearly had no shame?
"Dude, just get changed. We’ll wait here for you." Garrett grinned, “Come on bros, I’ll get the car started. I got a bomb playlist.”
Steve watched as they walked back to their car, all chuckling and talking about their beach plans. And before long, loud obnoxious music filled the air. Steve cringed, worrying what his neighbors might think of the loud music.
“The faster I get this on, the faster we get out of here.” Steve figured, walking back to his room.
Once there, he quickly undressed and examined himself in the mirror. He frowned as he examined his short and lanky frame- his skin pale from the hours spent indoors studying. His brown hair a curly mess atop his head. Nothing compared to the healthy tans and meaty muscles Garrett and his bros sported. Steve shook his head, ignoring these negative thoughts. Instead, he turned his attention to the pair of shorts in his hand.
"This is so disgusting...” Steve mumbled, taking a whiff of them, “Oh god, did they even wash this?” Steve was instantly teleported back to his high school locker room- the smell wafting from these shorts an unpleasant reminder of his days in gym class, “What have I gotten myself into?”
He grimaced as he slowly pulled the shorts up his skinny legs, where they rested over his Marvel boxer briefs. Yet despite his initial disgust, he was surprised to see how well they fit. He figured he owed Garrett some credit- shorts do look good on anyone. Steve walked over to his closet, rummaging around until he found on of his old discarded tank-tops. After placing that over his skinny frame, he smiled.
“Okay, I kind of look the part.” He commented, flexing his skinny arm, “Almost.” He laughed, thinking how ridiculous he must’ve looked.
And as he turned away from the mirror, he felt a wave of vertigo wash over him. He stumbled forward, catching himself against a wall. Steve groaned and wiped some sweat from his forehead, trying to make sense of the sudden dizziness. But as quickly as it had come on, it had passed. And Steve awkwardly walked to the front door, each step feeling somewhat heavier and requiring more focus.
“Oh lil’ dude, you look great!” Garrett said, approaching him, “You’re more than ready for the beach.” He raised an eyebrow, “Ah wait, lil’ dude you forgot your shoes. Logan! Grab ‘em a pair from the trunk.”
Steve only nodded, not really paying all that much attention. His mind felt foggy, his body heavier. When Logan threw the pair of worn-out sandals at his feet, Steve just slid them on. They were clearly too large for him, but he didn’t have the mental bandwidth to make a comment.
“Lookin’ good on ya!” Garrett grinned, putting an arm around Steve’s shoulder and leading him to the car, “God, you reek, lil’ dude.”
Steve shook his head, “No... it’s... it’s the shorts.” He replied, “They smell...”
“Sure, sure lil’ dude.” Garrett chuckled.
Steve wanted to say something in response, but he felt a slight achiness in his feet. And when he looked down, he could have sworn that they looked bigger and now sporting tufts of hair. In that moment, Steve could’ve also sworn that his nostrils were being invaded by an increasingly intense odor- reminiscent of the locker room but somehow worse. Sour and musky, all at once.
“Alrighty lil’ dude, get in.” Garrett said, "Let's go!"
Steve could barely focus. The smells, the boisterous laughter, and the blaring laughter from the bros around him. He grimaced as a can of beer rolled around in the backseat, hitting his foot. He watched as Logan reached down and smirked, before shot gunning the can of beer while his bros cheered.
“Lil’ bro, why don’t you try one?” Garrett asked from the driver’s seat, “Pregame for me, since I’m drivin’ and shit.”
“I’m good.” Steve replied, clearing his throat. His voice sounded off, “I’m not feeling too...”
A beer was thrust against his skinny chest and he looked over at Logan, who had a wide grin on his face. Steve held the beer, staring at it closely. And with his meatier hands, cracked it open. Steve never drank- it wasn’t his thing. But as he cracked open the can, he felt compelled. He was gonna chug it. And as the bros cheered him on, Steve did just that. As he did, he couldn’t possibly realize the bulge in his shorts was growing. His member growing in size, going from a measly 5 centimeters to an astonishing 14 centimeters, a dense forest of pubes sprouting around his new member.
“Buuuuuuuurrrrrppppppppp.” Steve grinned slightly as he crushed the can in his hand as his bros cheered, “That wasn’t so bad.”
“Fuck yeah lil’ dude!” Garrett cheered from the front.
“That was sick bruh!” Logan playfully punched Steve’s arm.
Steve looked down at where Logan punched him and his eyes widened. His arms... his skinny arms... they looked bigger? More defined. Muscles Steve knew he had but never saw were suddenly becoming quite obvious to the naked eye. He looked up at Logan and then up to Garrett.
“Hey somethin’s...” Steve froze. That baritone voice couldn’t possibly be...
But no one paid him any attention. They were going on about the cheerleaders, although Steve noticed Garrett was oddly quiet during the conversation. Occasionally glancing at Steve through the mirror. Steve stirred uncomfortably as Garrett stole glances at him. Why did he keep looking at him? He blushed slightly, trying to appear smaller, but his growing pecs and widening frame made that difficult. He was taking up more space now, becoming uncomfortably close to Logan.
“Dude, can you...”
“Not my fault this car’s so fuckin’ small.” Steve’s eyes widened. He would never talk like that, “What the fuck?” The fogginess in his mind was starting to dissipate. He was becoming acutely aware of his newly massive frame, enlarging pecs, and arms that looked more like tree-trunks than sticks.
Garrett turned to look at him and smiled. "What's wrong bro? You look good.”
“I... don’t... fuckin’...” Steve groaned as his tank-top ripped and he tossed the ruined fabric into the trunk.
He grunted as his muscles pulsed again and again. His frame expanding larger and larger, while Logan just grinned, despite losing more room in the back of the car. Steve gasped as small blond hairs erupted from his massive arms and traveled up. And when they finished coating his massive forearms, the hair in his pits exploded into a dense, musky forest. He grimaced at the smell wafting from them, yet at time went on, the smell was becoming familiar. Somewhat nice actually. He brought his hands to his head as his head started pounding. And in the car’s mirror, he saw that his hair was becoming blond. His curly locks reshaping into a sporty cut. His face becoming sharp and defined, his lips puffing up and forming into a permanent smirk.
“Eric, bruh, you good?” Garrett asked.
Steve let out a baritone groan, “Nah bruh, who the fuck’s Eric?” He grabbed his head again, “That’s... not... my... name...”
As he made eye contact with Garrett, he could feel it. A set of memories. Gym sessions with Garrett. Going to sporting events. Playing videogames. Waking up in each other’s arms... tearing each other’s clothes off... fucking... Steve realized in that moment. Garrett and Eric. They were more than frat bros... they were... A small smile formed on Steve’s lips as he felt Eric’s personality and mind overtake his. And in that moment, he came. The climax so intense that he passed out in the back seat.
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“Took him long enough.” Logan chuckled, “You happy Garrett?”
Garrett nodded and parked the car, “Alright bros, give him some time to rest.” Garrett smiled at his sleeping boyfriend, “I’ll be right behind you all.”
As his bros started walking to the beach, Garrett opened backseat door and smiled at his hunk of a boyfriend. He ran a hand down his jaw and gave him a quick kiss, before grabbing his cum-soaked shorts.
“Was hoping you’d save that for me.” Garrett smirked, “But all good, bruh.” He kissed him on the cheek, before quietly shutting the door. He’d let Eric get some rest- besides, they had a long night ahead of them.
758 notes · View notes
gyuzgrl · 9 months ago
Text
too sweet //lsm//
summary- when Jeonghan brings up BDSM at dinner, your boyfriend is keen on trying it out for himself. you laugh it off, telling him he doesn't have the stomach for it, and he decides to show you just how capable he is in bed.
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Crystal-chandeliered ceilings, a live cello performance, a bottle of Domaine de la Romanee- 1945; you're in the lap of luxury. After a particularly long week, your boyfriend decided to organize a 'little' get-together to get your mind off work. Something small, he said. Just a little dinner with Jeonghan and Hoshi- nothing much.
That's how you find yourself here- seated in one of the best restaurants in Seoul, surrounded by friends, donned in a dress so stunning it would've killed a small Victorian child.
Earlier on in the relationship, you used to get awkward in places like this, wondering how much it cost, trying to order the cheapest thing on the menu, but now? Now you've grown accustomed to Dokyeom's treats. It's how he shows his love for you- among many other ways- so who are you to say no?
"and yeah- we fucked." Hoshi states, mouth full of food as Dokyeom's eyes widen to the size of saucers.
Jeonghan giggles, turning around to see if anyone heard, and shakes his head.
"and?"
"and-" Hoshi continues, prodding a bit of beef with his fork, "and it was like painfully vanilla,"
You watch as Jeonghan's face contorts into a disapproving frown, and sip at your wine, praying to whoever's listening that your sweet, baby boy doesn't open his mouth to ask any questions.
But of course, you've never had much luck with the universe, have you?
"like ice cream?"
Aghast, the older man turns to Dokyeom.
"dude..."
When the inquisitive, wide-eyed stare doesn't leave his face, you cut in, clearing your throat.
"c'mon don't be like that- you know how he is Han"
Your boyfriend shifts his gaze to you, now wondering how you of all people know what his hyungs are talking about.
A sheepish, watery smile paints your face as you reach for your glass, taking another sip.
The air stills for a minute, awkward pauses flooding the space while Hoshi and Jeonghan share knowing glances.
They turn to you, flashing you those up-to-no-good grins, before fixing their attention to your poor boyfriend.
"alright buddy," Jeonghan starts, reaching out to grasp Dokyeom's shoulder, "lemme teach you about sex."
Immediately, you see the tips of his ears burn red. Poor thing.
"why are we uh, why're we talking about sex?"
"cause you still think we're talkin' about ice cream" Hoshi sneers. You shoot him a glare, and his shrinks back.
Ever the explorer, Dokyeom chimes in again, turning to you this time.
"we're not talking about ice cream? what are we-"
"sex." Jeonghan whispers, voice taking on a mock-sultry tone. He turns to you,
"what's he like in bed?"
"hey!-"
"he seems vanilla now, so I'm guessing it's basic shit" he continues, eyes narrowing in on you.
Suddenly you feel conscious of your surroundings. A nice evening out has somehow turned into a free-for-all analysis of your sex life, and your most intimate moments with Dokyeom have come under the looking glass.
"y-yeah, we're vanilla"
"oh you poor thing," Hoshi fakes a sob, bringing his hand to his chest as if your house caught on fire.
"don't be like that- some people prefer vanilla y'know?"
Some people, sure.
Not you, though.
As much as you love how Dokyeom makes you feel, you have to admit, he's a little, well... basic. It's the same old scene, classic p-in-v sex, sometimes he goes down on you, sometimes you do him, nothing apart from that.
Not that it doesn't feel good- it feels amazing- but you've always wanted something more. Something you're sure he won't be able to pull off.
"uhuh, I'm sure they do," Jeonghan muses, seeing right through you.
"what are we even talking abou-"
"sex!" all three of you whisper-shout in unison, starling Dokyeom.
"but- vanilla?"
"it's classic, like your basic animal-planet kinda sex" Jeonghan's voice turns serious, brows set in a firm line. "there's more than that, though"
Hoshi watches intently, moving a bit of bread to his mouth in slow motion, as the scene unravels before him. You find yourself equally invested, eyes fixed on Dokyeom's wonderstruck expression.
"there's more?" he gasps.
"oh you bet- d'you know what BDSM is?"
Your mouth goes bone dry.
"I think so? it's the stuff with the knives and leather and like latex-"
Jeonghan shoots you a quick glance, mouthing 'you're welcome', before moving back to the man next to him.
"that's not- it's not all intense and gory... there's layers to it, kay?"
Dokyeom nods, eyes shimmering.
"BDSM as a concept is deeper than just leather and blood. B and D stands for bondage and discipline, D and S stands for dominance and submission, and S and M stands for sadism and masochism-"
"so that's what Rhianna was talking about-" he cuts in, jaw falling slack as he listens further.
"each of these can come out in different ways- bondage could include cuffs, rope, shibari, or y'know whatever material you have on hand. discipline is meant in its literal sense- you do things to teach your partner the quote-unquote rules of sex, which could include spanking, using gags for punishment or doing things they like for reward. Sadism and masochism basically play on pain. Sadists like to cause it, masochists like to feel it- again, many ways to do this."
Hoshi stares in awe as Jeonghan concludes, putting his fork down to clap.
"wait- what about dominance?"
A sly smile quirks up Jeonghan's lips.
"oh that."
You swallow at the lump settling at the back of your throat, unable to tear your gaze away from your boyfriend's face- so eager, so fascinated by what he's heard.
"it's the premise of what all this is; discipline, sadism, bondage, it's all built on power play. One of you is in control and the other follows, letting themselves be controlled, it-"
"what about consent?"
Oh sweet, sweet boy.
"that's where safe words come into play. I use the traffic light system, so if my partner says green it means they're feeling good, if they say yellow, they're still okay but I need to slow down, and if they say red, they want me to stop"
"huh."
Dokyeom sits still for a minute, eyes glued to the plate sitting in front of him, and you can practically hear his brain churning to process all that he's learnt.
As the night goes on, he seems quieter than usual, staring at you, absorbing information, listening to what's being spoken about around him. Every time you turn to the side you meet his gaze- intense, preoccupied.
Dinner comes to a close with him shoving his shiny black credit card into the waiter's hands before anyone else beat him to it, and soon, you find yourselves saying your goodbyes, heading to the car.
Dokyeom opens your door, making sure you're seated, and moves over to the driver's seat.
"you don't- do you like how things are now?" Out of nowhere, his voice sounds in your ears, catching you off guard.
You look at him, surprise etched in the rise of your brow, and shake your head furiously.
"of course I do! baby, I love how things are with us, I love you"
He sighs, turning on the ignition, and begins to drive.
"not like that, honey, I meant physically,"
The blank look on your face has his cheeks burning as he works up the courage to say it.
"sex, y/n" he says, a little louder than before, "do you like the way we do things now?"
Oh.
You hadn't expected the conversation from earlier to stick with him, but evidently, it has. A shiver runs through you when he says it- sex. He's never brought it up so unambiguously before. It feels dirty, somehow, even though you've laid with him multiple times.
"I-"
"be honest, honey, okay?"
The earnest, gentle tone of his voice has your heart softening. He really is too pure for this world.
"I mean, I love the way we are now," you mutter, eyes focused on your lap as you pick at your nails, "you make me feel good"
Technically you aren't lying to him- you're just choosing to keep some things hidden. Dokyeom doesn't need to know that you've spent your nights thinking about his fingers buried deep inside you, forcing you to cum again and again until you're sobbing and shaking. He doesn't need to know you've been fantasizing about his arms, wondering how they'd feel pushing you down, leaving you helpless, completely at his mercy.
He's a nice guy, after all. They don't usually like stuff like that. And even if they think they like stuff like that, they don't have the stomach for it.
One stray teardrop and Dokyeom will be on his knees, apologizing profusely, crying along with you as he chastises himself.
"I'm not convinced," he sighs, shoulders slouching against his leather seats. "if this is about protecting my feelings-"
"no! no- not at all baby,"
"so tell me- I know you, I know when you've got something hidden away in that pretty head of yours"
Caught between a rock and a hard place, you find yourself in a bit of a dilemma. Should you be honest with him and take your chances? Or should you pacify him and convince him that plain old vanilla lovin' is all you need?
"I-"
"baby," he soothes, voice gentle, "I just wanna make sure I'm doing the best I can for you,"
A car passes you by, blaring loud pop music, and he breaks into a sheepish smile.
"there's a lot I didn't know before today- stuff that you knew about... so I just- I'm checking. If there's something you'd like me to do, someone you'd like me to be, I wanna try"
"oh,"
You stay silent for a bit, thinking over what to say. Sure, telling him that you're actually a submissive and you hate taking charge is simple, but the execution part leaves you tongue-tied. Someone as sweet and innocent as Dokyeom wouldn't be able to handle taking control.
Nothing against him, it's just that he's so cute and naive- there's no way he'd be able to restrain you and make you cry.
"there's one thing..." you mutter, voice so meek you're barely audible.
His ears perk up.
"y'know the dom-sub thing Hannie spoke about?"
"uhuh, one of us is in control and the other one listens,"
"yeah, I kinda, uh- I tend to lean towards being controlled rather than being in control"
"oh, we can do that if you like, baby" he chirps, twisting the steering wheel as he pulls into your apartment, "we can try whatever you want,"
There's a smile on his face- that same shining, star-studded gaze, eyes crinkling, teeth on full display- and you feel your heart sink.
You'll just have to make do with vanilla for the rest of your days.
The lift ride up is tense. You chew on your lower lip, tapping your heel impatiently against the ground as you move higher and higher, finally reaching your house.
Dokyeom keys in the passcode, unlocking the door, and you stumble inside, rushing to the bathroom for a bit of space.
Locking the door behind you, you stare at yourself in the mirror, worry etched in the crease of your forehead. Your face is beet red, pupils blown wide, and your throat feels dry.
All that talk about the bedroom has you feeling a little jumpier than usual and you can't help the way your brain automatically shifts to its usual Dokyeom fantasy- tied up helplessly in bed as he eats you out over and over, saying the filthiest things known to man.
God, the things you'd let him do to you...
His nose is built just right, bumping into your clit perfectly as he eats you out, tongue lapping up your arousal from your past orgasms. Those long, slim fingers would be splayed across your thighs, forcing your legs open, even when your body spasms, begging for an intermission.
'snap out of it- Christ' you tell yourself, shooing away any wandering thoughts as you unlock the door and head into your bedroom.
"everything okay, honey?"
You curse the universe when your eyes are greeted by his broad frame, standing by your dresser as he clicks his watch open, shaking it off his wrist in a few crisp motions.
"y-yeah I'm-" you cut yourself off when he begins to fold his shirtsleeves up, dragging the white fabric up around his elbow, putting his forearms on display. The way his veins frame the shape of his arms so perfectly, peeking out just enough, has you growing restless with desire, and you feel your face grow hot.
"baby?"
When you stay silent, he eyes you through the mirror, making sure you're still listening, and continues-
"I was thinking about what you said in the car, and I think we should give it a try"
Before you can stop it from happening, your lips part, letting a taunting laugh slip past them. Dokyeom halts his actions.
"why's that funny?"
"it's not! I just uh-" you nibble at your lower lip, trying desperately to conceal the smile perking up the corners of your lips, "I appreciate you saying that, but we really don't have to do things you won't be comfortable with,"
"how d'you know I won't be comfortable?"
You sigh, walking over to him.
"Kyeommie, you're a really great guy- you're sweet, you're kind, you're funny- and I love those things about you,"
"uhuh"
"it's just that you're too sweet, y'know? You won't be able to handle the stuff I'm into, baby"
His brows furrow, and he opens his mouth to speak, but you cut in, sugarcoating your words as much as you can.
"being nice isn't a bad thing at all, okay- don't get me wrong. I love you exactly as you are, so there's no need to make yourself uncomforta-"
"you think I can't do it, don't you?"
His voice is low, dripping with a kind of venom you've never heard from him before. You reach out, moving your hand to soothe over his shoulder, but he catches your wrist, pulling you into him.
"Dok-"
"I may be slow, I may not understand the things you do as easily" he sneers, his grip tightening, "but I know my way around your body-"
"I know I can make you feel good."
He inches closer, nose bumping against yours, and you let out a shaky sigh. Your heart thuds rapidly against your chest, banging against the confines of your ribs so noisily you're sure Dokyeom can hear it.
You've never heard him speak like this before, never seen his eyes flood with such darkness. The once glittering light in his pupils has now dimmed to a darker, lust-filled ocean, void of mercy.
The expanse of his broad shoulders shield you from the front, and a hand slides down your arm, resting at the curve of your back, trapping you in his hold.
"what is it that you want from me, hm?" he mumbles, angling your chin up towards his face, "want me to take control- be a little aggressive?"
Your breath catches, and you stare up at him, eyes wide. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you'd hear him talk this way, with his voice all low and mean. The way he holds you too, it's different from before. There's no gentle embrace, no tentative grip- no, he's sure right now. There's a certainty with which he holds you, a forcefulness he would've once been afraid of.
"tell me," he whispers as he walks you backward, heading for the bed, "tell me what you want and I'll make you feel good,"
With each step forward he takes in your direction, you take one back, staring up at him with wide, unbelieving eyes. Is this really the same guy from two hours ago?
His gaze pierces through you, challenging you as if to say- 'try me, I dare you.' It's simultaneously intimidating, yet somehow exciting, and you feel a familiar heat spread in your lower belly.
Like some sort of predator, dead set on catching its prey, Dokyeom stalks toward you, moving further and further, until your calves make contact with the bed.
He smirks.
You've been caught.
"what's wrong, honey?" a faux pout graces his lips, "you were saying so much a minute ago-"
You gasp as he closes in, leaving no room for anything but your body and his. The hand on your face leaves your chin, and he traces a finger down your throat, stopping just below the divot of your collarbones, lingering over the hem of your dress.
There's an evil glint in his eye and you watch, waiting patiently to see what he does next.
"strip."
Certain you heard him wrong, you stay still, staring up at him dumbly.
"oh, we don't feel like listening today?" he quirks a brow at you, loosening his grip on your waist as he lets his hand travel up your back, "either you do it- or I'll do my fucking self."
On beat, he thumbs the zipper of your dress and tugs it down in one sharp motion, leaving you stunned. The fabric falls slack against your body, loosening at your neckline just enough to give Dokyeom a peek of what lies underneath.
He trails his finger down your clavicle, pushing your dress down to reveal the lacey surface of your bra- the fabric flimsy and transparent, letting your nipples poke through.
"someone's excited," he bites his lips, smirking down at your hardened nipples. "you wanna take this off for me, baby?"
His voice is raspy, taunting almost, and your body obeys, arms hastily undoing your bra as you shimmy out of your dress. You should feel embarrassed, getting naked so desperately like some sex-hungry nympho, but you don't.
The arousal pooling in between your legs is far too distracting to leave any room for humility or shame.
Dressed pooled at your ankles, bra tossed aside, you stand bare before him.
Teasingly, Dokyeom lets the pad of his extended finger trace down your chest as he leans in, lips ghosting over yours. Your eyes flutter closed and your lips part- ever so slightly- bracing for impact. You feel his breath fanning across your face as his presence nears, skin almost touching yours, before he sends a sharp tweak to your nipple, pulling away with a devilish grin.
Jolting at the sudden stimulation, you gasp, eyes opening wide. There's a current running down your body, stemming from the spot he abused seconds ago, and you feel it land in your clit.
You want to argue, to call him an idiot and tell him to kiss you proper- to quit teasing- but you know you like this. The way he's got you all figured out, the way he so effortlessly gets you to bend to his will, god this is what you've been waiting for.
"get on the bed."
The firmness of his voice tells you to bite your tongue and acquiesce, but there's something deep inside of you that wants to see how far you can push him.
"don't wanna"
He pauses for a second, looking into your eyes-
"do you actually want to stop or are you just being difficult?"
"the latter," you singsong, staring up at him with a challenge dancing behind your eyes.
There's a moment of silence as he prods his cheek with the tip of his tongue, taking in what you've just said. His blood boils at the mockery in your voice, eyes hardening to a cold brown.
"brat." he spits, clenching his jaw.
In one forceful motion, Dokyeom yanks you towards himself, lifting you up by the thighs before tossing you onto the mattress behind.
"baby-!" You can't help but squeal as he manhandles you effortlessly, showing you just how strong he really is. Your body lands with a dull thump on the bed, sinking deep into your duvet as he stares daggers into your sprawled out frame.
"sit still."
Dokyeom steps back, standing before you at the foot of the bed, and keeps his eyes on yours. A sly hand creeps up his neck, fingers weaving into the intricate knot of his tie, and he pulls it loose, tossing the silk fabric near your feet.
Undoing the top buttons of his shirt, his hand travels down to his belt, clicking the buckle open with ease. The metal comes apart in his hand, loosening with a single flick of his wrist, and you feel your mouth begin to water.
He looked sinful. With his sleeves rolled up- biceps straining through the fabric, the way his chest peeked out tauntingly through his shirt, how his eyes bore into yours, not breaking contact for an instant- it made you want to scream.
The sound of metal clanking pulls you from your thoughts, and you realise that he's shucked off his trousers, leaving himself in his CK black boxers and a partially unbuttoned shirt.
"Kyeommie," you pout, reaching an arm out towards him, "c'mere"
It takes every bit of his strength to keep himself from crumbling instantly, but he manages it with a firm shake of his head.
"thought I told you to stay still, hm?"
You frown, your pout still evident, and turn away with a huff.
"I'm taking this off, y'know," he teases, plucking open the buttons of his shirt, and you feel your attitude fade to dust as you turn back to him in an instant.
Who wouldn't? After all, he does have the body of a God.
As he undoes his last button, you're greeted by his sculpted torso, tanned to perfection.
Dokyeom smirks, ego inflating at your star-struck reaction as if you haven't seen him like before.
"every single time," he mutters, shaking his head in amusement.
Before long, the shirt is discarded to some remote corner of the room, and he stands before you, nearly bare.
"where were we..."
Grabbing your ankles, he tugs you down till your hips reach the foot of the bed. A startled gasp escapes you at his actions and he can't help but smirk.
"if tossing you around was all it took, you should've just asked, sweetheart"
Your cheeks burn red. Never once has he spoken to you like this- so direct, without scaffolding.
"makes me wonder what else you might like,"
Dokyeom brushes his fingertips up your legs, kneeling down to face your clothed cunt.
"I learned a lot today," he bites his lip, eyes fixed on the damp spot growing under your panties. "will you tell me which of all those you like or should I find out for myself?"
His gaze shifts to you, eyeing the flush on your cheeks, the scandalized widening of your eyes.
"I- I want-" you trail off, voice so small it makes him melt.
"I'm listening, honey, tell me what you want,"
That soft, silverish quality of his voice resurfaces, and you feel your body relax. He rubs slow circles into your thighs, trying his best to coax the words out of you, but you remain hesitant.
Embarrassed, rather.
You've never told anyone what you want from them so plainly, with nowhere to hide. You feel exposed in front of him for the first time in a while and the feeling excites you.
"don't stop." you murmur, unable to meet his gaze. "don't stop after just one... y'know-"
His eyes darken.
"oh I'm going to like this"
Deft fingers slide up your inner thighs, hooking under the last of your lingerie and pulling it apart, tearing the lace off of your body to reveal what Dokyeom wants most.
The most intimate part of you lies spread out all for him, glistening with arousal, and he has to suck in a breath to calm himself.
"don't- don't do that,"
"do what?" he asks, backing away slightly just in case you've changed your mind.
"try to control yourself like that- just don't hold back"
You breathe shakily before continuing- "I want to see how far you go-"
Something snaps within him, that final band of restraint finally tears apart, and he yanks you down onto his tongue, licking fervently at your cunt like this is the last time he gets to taste you.
Your lips part, letting breathy, helpless cries slip past, and Dokyeom knows he's doing well.
Despite the gusto with which he devours you, his movements are precise, practiced. It's exactly as he said earlier- he knows how to make you feel good. He knows your body.
He works his tongue against you, lapping at your clit without any care of hypersensitivity or overstimulation, pressing harder and harder into you as your legs spasm around him.
"wai- oh my god-" you moan, back arching up, hips lifting off the bed for a second, before Dokyeom pushes you back down firmly with his hand splayed across your lower belly.
Squirming helplessly under the force of his arm, your body tries to move away, to get just a little respite, but all in vain. He doesn't let you. The weight of one hand holds you secure, while the other cups the underside of your thighs- pushing your leg up as far as it can go.
With your legs spread out further, his assault on your clit feels even more direct, with each firm motion of his tongue sending shockwaves across your body, and you feel your muscles tighten, building up for release.
Dokyeom seems to have noticed too, and his lips curl up at the corners into a deeply satisfied smirk. You feel it against your skin.
"already?" he abashes, eyeing your tensed frame, "after all you said?"
"m'sorry- please, please can I-"
"can you?" he echoes.
"can I cum ple-please"
You've done this before- asked for permission before- but not with him. Never with him. Dokyeom's smirk only widens when he realises the power he now holds over you. To be able to deny one their right to pleasure is... exciting, to say the least. He certainly seems to enjoy it, considering the bulge growing in his boxers.
"mm, I didn't quite hear that honey, come again?" His voice is patronizing, mocking.
"please Kyeommie please let me cum"
Dokyeom's never thought of himself as a man who likes to abuse his power, but right now with the way you're begging? He wants to see just how much you can take before the seams begin to rip.
"no."
Your eyes fly open, jaw agape as your clit throbs under his tongue.
"w-what"
"you asked, I said no."
Now he knows he isn't being fair, he knows. But the tears welling up in your eyes have him entranced. There's this urge he has deep inside to see them all spill out and stain those pretty cheeks of yours.
"but-"
"are you gonna act up? 'cause that's not how you're getting what you want sweetheart"
Dokyeom's voice sends a chill down your spine. With the way his tongue abuses your clit, you're certain you won't be able to hold yourself back, not when your high is almost near.
You want to be good for him, you really do- but is this even fair? As he laps into you, nudging your sensitive nerves just right, your head tips back into the pillows and you moan out a string of profanities, getting completely lost in the pleasure he gives you.
He isn't happy.
"if you wanna cum that bad- I should give you more, hm? who am I to deny?"
You know very well from the tone of his voice what he's got planned.
Grabbing the tie- now dangling precariously off the bed- Dokyeom crawls over your spent frame, balancing his weight on his knees.
"gimme your hands."
Tentatively, you hold out your arms, pushing your wrists together.
"what are you do-"
"you know what I'm doing, sweetheart"
You do.
He pulls the fabric of his tie taut, looping it at your wrists before tying a firm knot to keep you from moving. The black silk, although soft to the touch, presses into your skin, and you hiss when he gives the fabric a sharp tug.
Dokyeom's eyes draw back to yours, and he grabs your wrists, pushing them up above your head.
"keep these here," he murmurs, gulping slightly when he notices how close your faces are.
Your eyes burn holes into each other's, and he sees something in your gaze that he hasn't before-
Hunger.
"Dokyeom," you breathe, chest rising shakily,
"kiss me"
Waiting no longer, he pushes his lips to yours, capturing the plush crimson in a slow, hard kiss. The way your lips mold so perfectly together, fitting into each other like pieces of a puzzle, makes this moment that much more meaningful.
When he touches you, when he kisses you, you know deep inside that this man is your forever. No one has or ever will make you feel so alive.
Dokyeom swallows your whimpers, your cries, as he slips his tongue into your mouth. It's sloppy and messy and desperate- but you love the way it feels, the way he feels.
Leaving your wrist, his hand comes down to cup your jaw, tilting your head back so he can kiss you harder, deeper.
"wa-wait-" you pant, feeling your lungs burn.
As you try to pull away, a deep growl emanates from within his throat, and he tugs you closer, unwilling to let go.
A surprised 'mm!' escapes your occupied lips, muffled by his own, and your body lights up- embers of red-hot desire scattering across your skin.
Dokyeom's own lungs beg him to move away, to breathe, but he holds still, stubborn as ever. You feel far too good. If this is how he dies, he'll go gladly.
The airy whimpers and gasps from you, however, finally get him to let go.
Your chest heaves as you gulp in precious breaths to soothe your lungs, as does his own. Staring up at him in shock, you manage to stutter out-
"where has that been all this time-"
He lets out an airy laugh, pressing a tender kiss to your jaw, trailing down your torso until he reaches your gushing sex.
"the hands stay up there- got that?"
You nod eagerly, holding your wrists up to show him, but you're quickly cut off by his tongue, pressing back into your clit.
"oh-"
Tracing slow figure eights into you, Dokyeom works his tongue deftly while his fingers prod at your entrance. With ease, he slips two long digits inside, pushing deep till your arousal trickles down his knuckles.
"Dok- oh fuck oh my god"
Each knuckle of his fingers adds further stimulation as he begins to pump in and out of you. Every time he draws back, you stretch to accommodate the balls of his joints and it feels divine.
You've always loved his hands. Those slender, long fingers were perfect for you, and the fact that his knuckles jut out at each joint only makes it all better.
The kinks in his fingers have your legs quivering, and his tongue- god his tongue- nudges your clit with the perfect amount of pressure.
Feeling your orgasm build at record speed, you moan, completely defenseless as Dokyeom slurps noisily at your sex while his fingers push up against that one particularly soft spot inside you.
"Kyeo-Kyeommie m'gonna-"
"that's it, sweetheart- just let go for Kyeommie"
With a sob, you feel your orgasm burn through you, twice as intense as the previous one, and your thighs quiver.
You're spent. You're spent and he's only made you cum twice.
Watching the way your muscles twitch from the weight of your orgasm, Dokyeom grins, feeling particularly proud.
Now usually, this is where it ends. His arms would slip out from under your thighs, and he'd kiss you sweetly, telling you how amazing you are. He'd check to see if you wanted him to make love to you, and if you agreed, he'd do exactly that.
Tonight, however, he stays firm in place, his mouth still connected to your cunt. Limbs still quivering, your eyes widen when he begins to move against you, barely giving you a second to catch your breath and recover.
Your body goes limp when he pokes his tongue against your over-sensitive clit, licking gentle yet firm stripes with precision. Each oscillation elicits the most delightful sound, just as a clock chimes with the motions of its gong.
All you can do is clutch the fabric of his tie, nails digging into your palms as your skin burns under his touch. Your nerves throb, pulsing in time with your heart, in time with his tongue.
"so good for me, honey," he mumbles into you, sliding his fingers back inside you in one fluid motion. Your back arches comically off the bed, mouth hanging open in a mix of shock and pleasure.
Once more, you find your belly rudely forced back down. Dokyeom narrows his eyes at you, irritation flashing behind his deep brown pupils, and keeps his hand there- splayed over your lower belly, pushing down with just enough pressure for his fingers to prod out from under your skin.
You gasp, feeling fuller somehow with the added force, feeling his fingers drag deeper against your walls. Within moments, your cunt clenches down around his digits, and he laughs in disbelief.
"again? baby c'mon you have a point to prove, don't you?"
Under any other circumstance, you would've bitten back, calling him some name, yelling some profanity- but now? Now you need him. You're so close, right on the edge of the water, ready to fall in, and only he can give you that last push. You know better than to open that smart mouth of yours right now.
"is this all it takes? y'know if you're gonna start off by being a brat- you gotta keep up with the act at least-"
"m'so-m'sorry-" you gasp, tugging against your restraints as you feel your high mere seconds away, "m'sorry please can I cum please I've been so good for you-"
Dokyeom nods, scissoring his fingers in and out of you more rapidly than before, and you cum with a scream, straining against the cloth binding your wrists as your orgasm rips through you like a whirlwind.
"that's my girl-" he sighs, placing a kiss to your inner thigh, while his fingers continue their movement inside you.
"Kyeom- oh- t-too much,"
Your cries fall on deaf ears, and he shoots you a sly grin.
It has been over an hour now, you're certain. Dokyeom's held you still and pulled orgasm after orgasm from you with his tongue, his fingers, both.
"p-please-" you whimper, tears streaming down your face as those long fingers slide into you once more.
"just one more, honey,"
Dokyeom presses tender kisses to your inner thighs- now wet with your slick- and pushes further into you.
"just one more for me, hm? you can do that for me, can't you baby?"
You nod, small sobs wracking your body. Of course you'll do this for him. You'll do anything for him. Plus, you can't say you aren't enjoying this-
"that's my girl."
1K notes · View notes
gamblersdoll · 26 days ago
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perv kirishima, fluff to semi smut, massaging with oil :3
“cmon, baby,” kirishima was on you like a hound, behind and hands on your waist.. mouth on your neck. “yer so tense and mean to big ole’ me.”
“because you act like a goddamn mutt.” you were almost like katsuki, cold and hard when it came to certain things. “get off—“ you grit your teeth, but he chuckles in your ear. “what do you have planned?”
“i can feel all the knots in your back, baby.” he acts surprised, but how can he.. look at you. “do you not massage yourself or relax?” he asks, kneading his knuckles into your shoulder— eliciting a groan from you. “oh yeah, you dont ever relax..”
“im fine, riri.” you mumble.
he shakes his head, pushing you towards the bed. “uh uh, let me make you feel good, kay?” he asks, and he can see the disapproval in your eyes. “pleeassssee?” you sigh and nod, pulling your arms up and feeling your clothes be stolen from you.
“dont get any funny ideas, dog.” you roll your eyes, laying onto your stomach.
he snickers, moving first to your shoulders and digging into the dips, hearing your moans when he hits a spot good. hes slow with it, moving to your shoulder blades and he coos. “fuck, you carry stress here.” he giggles at your grunt, the knot of it going away as he moves to the line of your back to dig and slide his thumbs into your back— hearing several pops and cracks. “you gotta stop slouching, babygirl.” he reminds, watching your back relax. “thats why you get so much problems.”
“uh huh..” you moan, ignoring his tantrum of his.
he finally got to your lower back and the start of your ass, pressing his thumbs down and hearing cracks. “carry alot of stress back here, too.” he kisses the round of your ass, feeling the goosebumps raise against your skin. did he forget to tell you about the massage oil that was warming up and a muscle relaxer? you started to relax, the hardness of your heart going soft.
“kiri..” you mumble, feeling his hands massage your rear in circles.
“hm?” he grunts, squeezing the flesh.
“feels good..”
“yeah? want me to keep going?” he asks, moving to the back of your thighs. he sees your nod, him going back up and pressing kisses along your ass. “so pretty when yer bein’ good.” he jiggles and grips it, spreading you open just a bit to press a kiss to your slit.
“hey.. easy..” you mumble, pressing your hand against his head.
“seems like your body knows what it wants.” he kissed your palm, staring at you over your ass. he winks with his left eye, his tongue poking out for a moment to alert you. “i wont do anything you dont want..” he grins, licking from your slit to your neck and kisses you.
he tastes like peaches.
“did— did you just kiss me with oil lips?” you groan, too relaxed and almost tired.
“its edible.” he argues back, sitting on your legs to work into your shoulders. “now hush it so i can be a man and make his woman feel good.”
458 notes · View notes
maeedrg · 2 months ago
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Mine to protect
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Feral Gojo X non sorcerer fem reader X Geto Suguru
ᯓ★
Synopsis : in which you are freshly dating since two months your boyfriend, Gojo Satoru. Still new to this sorcery world, you try to understand that your relationship had to be kept a secret for your safety. But Satoru hides you many things, informations that could have made everything different. You keep bumping too into a man called Suguru, and as time passes, things get complicated. You end up having a bounty on your head, and that makes Gojo snaps.
Words count : 12k.
Warnings : tooth rooting fluff, Satoru being silly, angst, gore, dead body, death implied, stalking, slight smut, alcohol consumption, slight canon divergence, hidden inventory mentioned, some satosugu, a bit of Suguru x reader if you squint
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ Autor’s note : it took me so long to write, and was harder than I thought. I hope you guys will enjoy, with all the pain it caused me to create this… ugh.
。⋆˚⋆✩₊⋆˚。⋆♡⋆。⋆ ˚。⋆⊹⋆ ˚⋆。⋆✧⋆˚。⋆⋆ ˚。⋆⊹⋆ ˚⋆。⋆✧⋆˚。⋆⋆
February 16, 11 : 26 PM, Gojo Satoru exterminated 7 upper grades curses. 12 : 02 AM, Gojo Satoru killed 4 sorcerers. Sentence : no one. Reason : still unknown. 
Gojo pants heavily, each breath long and shattered. Blood is dripping down his skin, staining his hands, face, and clothes. Not his blood, obviously. His eyes lack the usual blue shine they hold, instead dull greyish dirty sky paints his iris. His pupils are dilated, big and creepy, slowly drifting to the side. He throws on the floor the head of one of his opponents. It rolls over, until it stops at the feet of a shaking mess of another sorcerer. The man shivers head to toe, and tries to step back, but he just ends up falling pathetically on the bloody floor. 
“Please, please- spare me ! I just wanted the money !” he screams, big fat tears rolling down his bruised cheeks. Satoru snaps his tongue inside his mouth, making a noise of annoyance, before moving one step closer. His aura is so gigantic and imposing, that the sorcerer feels like he could dissolve on the spot.
“Where is she ?”, he asks one time. No need to say it twice, the life of his opponent is on the line.
“I- In- with our boss- please, I swear… !”, now he babbles, snot coming out of his nose and shaking his head multiple times in pure and utter fear. 
The white haired sorcerer suddenly grabs the collar of the man before him, smashing him in a loud thud against the wall behind. It crackles the paint and breaks some of his bones, coughing some blood and whimpering like a poor pitiful dog.
“Boss ? I bet it’s the one that did put a damn bounty on her head and asked you to do this, am I right ?” Satoru snarls, the small light of the flickering bulb behind him illuminating the side of his crimson painted face. The sorcerer, unable to talk, too scared and in pain to form a normal sentence, nods quickly. He tries to squirm away, weakly, but Satoru sighs and shakes his head in disapproval.
“Uh-uh, no need to run, I still need you to answer me. Where is your boss ?” he asks firmly, leaving no room for argument. Without any further, the sorcerer pronounces faintly the place and area he asked for. Satoru’s eyes narrow, tightening his fingers around the collar of the man in an iron grip.
“I see… well, I don’t need you anymore,” he ends up sighing, clearly bored now. 
“I answered, now please, I beg, spare me ! pl-” SPLASH. A flash of light, it flickers, smoke escapes and then a huge red stain paints the wall. What stays of the body of the sorcerer, more like his calcined legs, falls on the ground brutally.
“Ah, what a mess. How annoying,” mutters Satoru, whipping some of the gruesome mix of red liquid and flesh off his cheek. 
12 : 06 AM, Gojo Satoru killed 5 sorcerers. 
Calmly, we can hear the sound of steps on the ground. One, two, three. Each one is steady, and a terrifying shine of blue illuminates the darkness of the corridor. 
“So it was ***, all along…” whispers Satoru in the eerie quietness, before opening the door in front of him in a brutal motion.
12 : 31 AM, Gojo Satoru found you back. But not alone.
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ
Dating Gojo Satoru as a non sorcerer wasn’t always that easy. Indeed, after barely two months of dating, exploring the spectrum of romantic relationship together, you both had to keep it a secret. If jujutsu society discovered that The Strongest was dating a non sorcerer girl, it would go sour very quickly. It was for your safety, and you understood that very well. This whole world of curses, gore and morbid routine was better away from you, anyways. And no matter how much you tried to put your mind into it, it was hard to understand everything. Even if Satoru tried to explain to you his line of work, and who he was, he on purpose hid some crucial informations. Informations that could have saved you that day, on february 16. But who could have known ? Neither you, nor him. 
But today was a good day. After coming back from his busy day, Satoru made his best to come back to you as quickly as possible. After all, how could he leave you alone at your apartment for too long ? Nah, never.
“Come on, sweetheart. I just wanna play with ya’ ! Don’t tell me you’re afraid to lose ?”, your boyfriend coos, tantalizing. You shake your head, trying to step away, but his arm swings around your waist and forces you to sit down next to him in front of the coffee table.You huff.
“Satoru, I’m not playing arm wrestling if it’s just for you to show off your strength. You’re going to break my wrist !” you retort, firmly. But the way his fingers slide up your skin towards your palm, and intertwine with your hand, and how his puppy eyes are looking at you, it makes you falter for a second.
“I’m not going to hurt you, I know how to control my amazing strength. Be for real, baby. You’re just scared to lose !” He tilts his head to the side, trying to sound challenging to tease you enough to accept.
“You literally are “The Strongest”, or whatever weird wizard shit you are. I, for sure, will lose !” you exclaim, scoffing, frowning your eyebrows. Satoru snickers, a small smile forming on his lips and squeezing your hand in his.
“Sorcerer, baby, not shadow wizard money gang. And I swear, I’ll go easy on ya’. ‘Kay ? Promise !” he insists, kissing your knuckles tenderly at the end of his sentence. You can’t help but explode of laugh at his joke, and his smile grows wider at your face happily giggling.
How cute. It was in those moments that Gojo Satoru loved to bask in the most. Just pure domestic happiness by your side, aside from the jujutsu world. You, and him. No curses, no fighting, nothing. It’s for that he insisted on not showing you the depth of the atrocity of his world. It was better that way, he thought.
“Alright, alright. I’ll play. But only if you allow me an advantage ! That would be only fair…” you calm down and end up accepting, looking into his blue eyes. He seems like he is pondering. Obviously, he wasn't. He just wanted to put some mystery in his answer.
“Greedy girl. Fine, I’ll give you an edge.”
“That would be… ?” you ask, waiting for him to continue.
“No defense on my side. You can use anything to get me to stop and surrender. How does that sound ?” he ends up explaining, raising his eyebrow.
“That would be easy,” you answer confidently. He scoffs, frowns, and lets out a small laugh at your naivety of thinking you could win. He liked that about you.
“Ah, yes. Right. Very easy. Then, what will you get if you do win ? Which you won’t, by the way,” he tsk, playing a bit mindlessly with your hand he was holding.
“You give me a full body massage. If you win, I’ll give you one. Do we have a deal ?” you answer, ignoring his provocative last sentence, deciding to not indulge into his teasing.
“Yes ma’am. We go at the count of three, then. One…” Satoru says as a start, grabbing back your hand and lining it between his own.
“Two,” you continue, “three !” you both end up saying at the same time. You directly put all your strength into your arm even though his hand is much larger and stronger compared to yours. He tightens his grip, not budging at all. This bitch even fake yawns to provoke you. You narrow your eyes, scoffing, and trying to put on more strength. He said he would put no defense on his side, so what could you do ? Tickle him ?
With your other hand, you slide your fingers and tickle his underarm. He shivers and lets out a laugh.
“Oh ? You’re playing nasty here-” he says in between laughs, but then decides to tighten his grip and starts to slowly push down your arm. You realize that making him laugh is no strategy to make him lose. You groan, frowning your eyebrows and directly stop tickling him to concentrate all your strength on one point, but it’s no use. Each second that passes, he makes your arm go down, and down, and down… He even has the nerves to stare at you with his stupid smirk, amused by your whining.
“Adorable.”
“Shut up,” you snap back, serious about winning, your arm almost fully flat on the table now. No, no, no ! You can’t let him win like that ! 
You decide to then, as a last second idea, lean towards your boyfriend and kiss him swiftly. Surprised, his grip falters. Your kisses were indeed his weakness, and you knew it better than anyone else. Wickedly, you take the opportunity to smash his arm on the other side of the table, finally winning. You directly stop kissing him, a big smile on your face as you jump on your feet and laugh.
“I won ! You damn ass loser !” 
Satoru snaps back to reality, and looks at his hand, then back at you. He directly grabs you and makes you fall on the ground, getting on top of you and starts to tickle you restlessly.
“You caught me by surprise ! It doesn’t count !” Satoru exclaims, smiling at the way you squirm and squirm over again, chocking on your own laughs because of the torture your boyfriend is giving you. And oh, oh how pretty you look, with tears at the corner of your half lidded eyes. Satoru just wanted to carve this core memory in his brain, forever. Was it Heaven ? He didn’t need much to feel like ascending to paradise when he was by your side. Nothing, really. Just you. 
“You sore loser, I-I won- ahahaha !” you giggle endlessly.
The moment the white haired sorcerer was about to reply, his phone rang. He rolls his eyes, sighing and doing this grumpy expression that always makes you melt. He grabs the phone in his jean pocket, keeping you pinned on the ground with his other hand. As he answers the call, his nose scrunch up, and he groans.
“Really ?... A mission, now ?... I cleared my schedule today on purpose…” he says, playing with your hair while looking annoyed at the voice on the other side of the line. You stay quiet, smile faltering at what you hear.
 “Ugh- yeah… Yeah. Alright… Just send me the information… I’ll be on my way… Yeah yeah. Bye,” he hangs up the phone, putting it back in his pocket. He sighs, deeply, a long one. He looks back at you and then takes your face in his hands before kissing your forehead.
“A curse appeared somewhere and is threatening citizens. I’m sorry, I gotta go, sweetheart. I’ll give you your massage when I come back,” he softly explained, in a tone of voice that showed just how tired he was. You lift yourself on your elbows, frown deepening. Clearly, he was the one that deserved this massage. 
“I get it, it’s not your fault. I’ll go buy groceries for dinner, then. I’m sure you will be starving, anyways,” you chuckle softly to lighten the mood. He grins at your words, and helps you standing up before putting back on his blindfold.
“You know me so well. Buy cookies too, please. I need my daily sugar intake !” he teases.
“You and your sweet tooth-” you start to answer in a tiny sigh, but get cut off by his lips tenderly and softly pressing against yours.
“See you, I’ll be back in no time,” he finishes. You can’t help but look at him lovingly.
Some minutes later, you were on your way to the grocery store. It wasn’t far away from home, so the walk was quick. Hands grabbing two bags, one full of sweets, for your childlike man, and the other with what you needed to use to cook dinner. But then, you feel like something is passing by you. You frown, a shiver running down your skin, unable to see anything in this half lonely street. It even felt cold, strangely cold. It passes again, and you were sure you indeed felt something. But you have no time to ponder more, when you realize that your bag of groceries, one of them, got cut in two and some of the oranges fell and now are rolling down the street. 
“What ? No, no !” you exclaim, crouching down and trying to put it back together, yet one of them escapes your fingers and rolls and rolls… before stopping in front of the foot of someone. A hand grabs it, and you lift your head to look at the person, or your savior.
It’s a man, with jet black long hair, half tied in a bun, striking purple eyes, and a soft expression on his face.
“Is this yours ?” he asks in such a delicate tone of voice that you just nod quietly at first, not answering with your own words. “Here,” he approaches and gives it back to you. You take it, and then smile a bit nervously as he dust his fingers on his jacket.
“Thank you so much. I- uh.. I don’t know what happened, but my bag suddenly got cut in two ? That’s weird, ahah,” you end up explaining, still unsure on how it could have happened. You look down, and groan at the mess. With a broken bag, how could you bring that home ?
“Yeah, that looks like… a mess. Need some help ?” he asks gently, crouching down too and smiling at you. You swallow your saliva, mesmerized against your will by the way he talks. 
“Oh, that’s very nice of you. But… With a broken bag, and another full one, I don’t think you could help me that much,” you chuckle a bit awkwardly, bringing back all the products together, trying to think of a way to come back home with this inconvenience.
“I have a bag with me. You could put your groceries inside, that would be easier,” he proposes as he lifts his eyes, staring right back at your soul. You think for a second.
“That would be very nice, actually… Thank’s a lot,” you end up accepting, not wanting to lose too much time outside. You had dinner to cook, after all.
The black haired man takes out a tote bag of his jacket, unfolds it, and then helps you assemble all the scattered groceries inside. You keep thanking him, a bit awkwardly, and once it’s done you slide the bag over your shoulder. You stand back up, and he does the same, towering over you.
“I live right by the corner. I’ll give you the bag back, don’t worry,” you explain as you show with your hands the apartment building at the left of the street, and start to walk. His eyes follow you, before looking at where you were pointing at, hands in his pockets. He smirked at himself, but you couldn’t see it. It only lasted for a second.
“You can keep it, I don’t mind,” he retorts, shaking his head and giving you a reassuring smile. You take a stop and turn around to face him, raising an eyebrow.
“It’s alright, I’ll be quick. It’s only normal, after all. You helped me, so..,” you start to answer,  but he cuts you off, “I insist. Keep it.”
You sigh and end up nodding, giving him a small smile, “alright, thank you,” you accept.
“You’re welcome, hum…”
“Y/n,” you say.
“Right. Goodbye then, y/n,” he finishes, insisting on your name, taking out of his pocket one of his hands to wave at you, before turning on his heels and leaving without waiting for an answer. You wave back, saying goodbye, and turn around too to walk back home.
You realize you forgot to ask about his name. Whatever, it’s not like you would see him again. Thankful of his help, you enter your apartment and unpack your groceries. Once everything is where it should be, ready to start cooking, you look at the bag. Curious, you look inside and realize that a name was written with black ink on the tissue. You squint your eyes, half of it erased by the time.
Suguru… Suguru G something, you couldn’t read the last letters. 
So, Suguru was his name.
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ
After dinner, you and Satoru were cleaning the dishes, him complaining about his mission and how boring it was, that they could have asked someone else to do it since it was way too easy for him. Tipicall whining behavior of your boyfriend, after all. You nod, still having a hard time understanding this whole concept of his hollow purple and red and blue… Unable to see cursed energy, it was complicated for you to fathom this type of things. But you still tried to, anyway.
“So, he gave you his bag ? What a gentleman. Should I feel threatened, hmm ?” Jokes Satoru, raising his eyebrows as he mentions back your little adventure in the street earlier. You chuckle softly, drying a plate and putting it down next to the sink.
“You don’t have to worry about that, he was just being helpful. Hey, without his bag, there would have been no dinner tonight ! Only… your bag of sweets,” you retorts, and Satoru nudges you playfully, still washing a glass of water.
“I don’t mind eating cookies for dinner, you know that,” he muses, and you roll your eyes at his antics. Him and his sweet tooth… 
“What was his name, by the way ?” he asks, rinsing the glass under the lukewarm water of the sink.
“Uh.. Suguru, I think,” you answer, shrugging, not very sure after all. 
The moment you say this, Satoru freezes and tightens his grip on the glass of water before putting it down silently. He suddenly looks tense, and you frown, unsure at why he acted like that.
“Suguru, you say ? Alright,” he ends up humming, keeping his back turned to you and mindlessly whipping the remains of dishes. You can’t see his facial expression anymore, and you get even more suspicious.
“Is there something wrong ?” you question, raising an eyebrow and narrowing your eyes at his reaction.
“Nope, baby,” he suddenly acts back like his cheerful self, giving you a wink when he turns around to face you again. Even though it’s only been 2 months that you were dating Gojo Satoru, you still could sense when he was lying. Even if it was subtil.
“You don’t like the name ‘Suguru’ ?” you ask, stepping closer, laughing a bit nervously. That would be... absurd. Why would he even hate a name ? His smile falters, but quickly gains back its fake silliness.
“Nah, I just knew someone that was named like that,” he explains vaguely on purpose, walking past you towards the living room. Oh, you narrow your eyes even more, twice suspicious now. He clearly wasn’t telling you everything. Satoru was secretive concerning some information about his life as a sorcerer, and about… his past too. Since it’s only been a few short months that you were his girlfriend, you didn’t insist or pressure him to open up to you. Your relationship with him was still young, after all. No need to rush things. You respected his privacy, to a certain extent.
“Someone ? Alright,” you say, not continuing on the topic, sitting next to him as he slides his arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer.
“How about tomorrow we go on a date, yeah ?” he suddenly proposes, changing subjects out of the blue.
“Will it be okay ? Nobody that knows you would see us together, right ?” you question, knowing that your relationship with Satoru had to be kept a secret for your safety.
“Nah, I’ll make sure of that. Don’t worry sweetcheeks,” he muses as he brings your face closer and kisses the hollow of your neck.
You smile at him, teasing him about how he needs to give you a massage since earlier that evening you won the wrestling game. He chuckles, bringing you to the bedroom. But as the night went on, you couldn’t help but notice how his mind looked elsewhere, and how he kept glancing at the grocery bag, and the name “Suguru” written on the tissue…
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ
In this cold weather of February, you were walking outside with Satoru. Cold hands, yet they get warmed by his fingers tangling with yours and putting them in his pocket. He gives you a cheeky grin, rosy cheeks and red nose from the freezing wind. You sniff a bit, feeling like you could catch a cold with this temperature.
“How about we go see a movie ? You know, the new horror one that just went out. We saw it yesterday when watching this pastries tv-show,” he wiggles his eyebrows, taunting you. You inhale and exhale loudly, remembering the trailer of this so-called movie that you saw passing by on TV. 
“I’m going to shit my pants ! We could watch something else-” you start to retort, shaking your head, but Satoru rolls his eyes and brings you towards the entrance of the theatre.
“But I want you to get all scared and to cling to me like a damsel in distress, saying “oh Satoru my love, protect me ! I’m so scared ! Kyaaaa !” See ?” he exclaims as he suddenly clings to you, using a high pitched voice that could make your ears bleed and you cringe slightly. You repress a laugh, pinching his side under his thick layer of clothes.
“You really wanna bully me, uh ? I’m sure in the end it would be you that would be terrified, more than me,” you scoff and your white haired boyfriend acts exaggeratedly offended, opening the door to let the both of you enter the building.
“Excuse me ? I’m used to seeing horrifying things everyday, it’s not a horror movie that would scare me, period,” he refutes, the coldness of outside leaving you to instead be the warmth of the inside. You then remember back that indeed, in the line of work of your boyfriend, he was used to dealing with terrifying curses every day. Based on what he described you.
“Well, sorry, but not me,” you complain. After a little back and forth with him, you ended up going to buy the tickets of the movie, while Satoru went to obviously buy the snacks, which meant tons, and tons of sugary food.
As you walk back with the tickets in hand, searching for your busy boyfriend at the candy aisle, your eyes catch something in the crowd. Curious, you snap your head to the side, frowning, before perceiving long black hair tied in a half bun, and purple eyes. You part your lips, surprised to see the grocery guy, Suguru, if you remember well, coming out of the bathroom. He gives you a look, and then the moment his stare meets yours, a smirk draws on his lips.
“Y/n ?” he asks, surprised too.
“Fancy to see you here, humm.. Suguru, is that right ? It was written on the tote bag that you gave me yesterday,” you exclaim, smiling back and feeling quite funny from this situation. It could be destiny, at this point. Nah, too cliche. 
“Suguru, that’s right. I hope yesterday you could come back home safe with your groceries,” he answers in a soft voice, one that makes you think he must be a really calm and nice guy. Not to add how he helped you yesterday. What a mistake. 
“Thanks to you. Are you here to watch a movie ? Or you already did ?” you continue.
“I already finished watching the movie, the new horror one,” he tells you, crossing his arms on his chest and showing you with his chin his ticket in his hand. You barely look at it, not realizing that the ticket was odd, and then back at him.
“No way ! I’m here too, with my boyfriend, to watch it,” you smile answering that, this coincidence being rather unusual. You notice how his eyes narrow slightly at the word ‘boyfriend’, but then he smiles back as if nothing happened. 
“Boyfriend ? I see. Then enjoy, y/n. See you maybe next time,” he waves at you, before quickly disappearing in the crowd, and in no time he already left. 
The moment you join back Satoru that just finished buying all the snacks, arms full of popcorn, candies, and drinks, you shake your head and walk faster to reach him and help him with everything that he is holding.
“Did you really buy all this ? Is it for the two of us or a whole army ?” you chuckle, and Satoru pouts, plopping a candy in his mouth as he slides his hand in your lower back to make you walk towards the employee that checks your tickets.
“Sweetheart… You know I can eat for ten, don’t be ridiculous,” he rolls his eyes answering that. 
“It’s your stomach that is ridiculous, I don’t know how you can keep your abs with all this food” you tease back, both walking towards the theatre room after getting your tickets checked.
“The gods really like me,” he muses.
The moment you sit next to him, putting down the food to get comfortable, Satoru kisses your cheek exaggeratedly to make you embarrassed, like he always does, but then he freezes for a second. He narrows his eyes and lowers his sunglasses, looking at you with so much seriousness that you thought you did something wrong for a second.
“What is that smell on you ?” he asks, not a single hint of a joke in his voice.
“Uh ? Do I smell bad ? I showered and put my usual perfume, though” you retort, sniffing your arm and raising back your head towards him. The scent that was glued to your clothes were the exact same as usual, and confusion takes even more possession of your body.
“No, that’s not what I mean,” he whispers more like to himself, getting closer to you a moment. His face is right on your neck, and you get even more confused. Satoru swore he just smelled the cursed energy of Geto Suguru on your skin, a scent that he didn’t have the chance to smell since… years. But why would there be his cursed energy on you ? If he was there, he would have seen him. Yet, his six eyes didn’t notice anything abnormal in the movie theatre. 
“Uh…”
“Nevermind, love. Give me the caramel popcorns, please !” he suddenly changes subject and shows you back his big goofy smile. Quickly, you forget whatever had happened before indulging him, rolling your eyes with a hint of a grin on your lips. A few minutes later, the movie started.
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ
On this sunday afternoon, sun high in the sky and birds flying above your head, you decided to secretly meet your boyfriend outside of his workplace. The jujutsu high campus. It was to bring him some documents he needed for his paperwork that he forgot at your apartment. To be honest, you had nothing to do and just wanted to see him, even though he could have come and teleported at your place instead. But Satoru was Satoru, and you were you. Two very stubborn people.
Squeezing your bag against your left side, you follow the itinerary he gives you while you are on call with him. Left, right, turn here, go straight until the grey wall, turn there, etc… It felt like a damn maze. But oh, you insisted on meeting at the front red door of the domain, wanting to be able to have a glimpse in real life of where he works, instead of the pics he showed you on snowy nights, talking about his life.
“Baby, I can teleport right where you are, you know ?” Satoru urges you, a pout in his voice.
“Satoru, I can walk. I have nothing else to do, whatever. So wait for me at the rendez-vous place,” you repeat again for the second, third, no, fifth time. You hear a huff coming from the other line of the phone, and you imagine him rolling his eyes dramatically.
“Geez, alright, alright... Well, now, you need to climb the stairs all up to the top, and I’ll be right here,” he continues to explain, looking at where you are from the location you sent him on your phone. The little red spot on the map flickers, showing your position.
“No other sorcerer is around, yeah ?” you ask to be sure. That was risky, after all, coming here. You wouldn’t want anyone to catch you coming, but you still wished to see this place with your own eyes, even if slightly from far away.
“Uh-uh, don’t worry. All clear. I will be able to kiss you senseless without any prying eyes !” he muses happily, as if it was the sweetest treat he could ask for. You snicker at his words.
“Who said I would let you ?” you mock sarcastically.
“Awww, don’t be so mean…” he whines dramatically.
You chuckle and continue to walk. You look up at the sky. There are no more birds, nor the sound of their voices. The forest surrounding the stairs is quiet all of a sudden. That made you look around for a second. Suddenly, a squall of wind makes you shiver head to toe, and you squeeze your jacket tighter against you. It gets stronger, and you feel like you could fall from where you were standing. Your heart brutally stops, before starting to beat dangerously fast all over again. You have a hard time breathing, each inhale being ragged, your whole body tensed and screaming at you to run, and fast. You step back, when squinting your eyes, you see what seems like a shadow some meter away from you. Tall, looming, eerie. It was the first time you saw something like that, and you end up utterly terrified, shaking like a leaf.
“Y/n, are you okay ? You stopped moving…” mumbles Satoru in a sudden more serious voice, looking at your location. Some wind makes his hair move in the air, and he directly narrows his eyes. Something is off. He could sense it, smell it. 
“Satoru-...” you manage to whisper, stepping back again, horrified by this shadow slowly becoming clearer to you, looking like a… monster. Were you crazy ? A hallucination ? Or was that… a curse, like your boyfriend described them to you. Why is it scarier than you imagined, worse than the horror movie you saw two weeks ago. Way worse, to be honest. You couldn’t even fathom the fear that was running down your veins.
“Y/n, run as quick as you can, I’m on my way. ” The voice of Satoru snaps you back to reality, and you shiver head to toe as you directly spin around on your heels and dash towards the opposite way. You didn’t even need to make him repeat twice, or to have the time to understand what he asked, no, ordered you to do. Just by the simple word “run”, you were already running.
You breath heavily, racing as fast as you could, and the moment you check behind you to see if that curse was following you and tracking you down, you almost fall when the answer is yes. You let out a scream, the monster smiling in such a feral and unhinged way, opening its mouth wide with big crooked teeth, ready to jump you.  Horrible ! You then stumble on a rock, a damn rock that was coincidently on your way, and you scratch your knee as you fall down on the ground, making you bleed. You yelp, closing your eyes, not wanting to see an ugly curse as the last thing before dying. Everything was going way too quick for you to have the time to stand back up. 
The moment it’s about to reach your body, you hear an explosion meters away.
“Domain expansion, infinite void,” a cold and unwavering voice echoes in the depth of your being.
A scream of despair, and then… nothing. Just the quietness. A second pass where you slowly bat your lashes, ears ringing and feeling dizzy. The moment your vision is back to normal, you directly are facing your boyfriend scooping you in his arm without waiting any more second. His blindfold is down on his collar, a mad expression on his usual cheerful face. 
“Are you okay ?” he asks, six eyes analyzing you up and down with a hint of fear in them.
“I… I guess…” you whisper, still shaken from what happened.
“You’re bleeding, I’ll get you to Shoko,” he announces, turning around and starting to walk, squeezing you against him. You open your eyes wider, remembering that this woman was a friend of Satoru, and a jujutsu sorcerer.
“Will it be okay ?!”
“Don’t worry, I can trust her to not say anything about it. Let’s not lose any more time,” he finishes. And it’s only now that you realize how much your knee is painfully throbbing, all your adrenaline dying down to just let the suffering in your veins. You hiss, biting your lower lip to not scream.
Satoru then teleports, and in the first time of knowing him, you enter the Jujutsu campus. For the best, or for the worst. 
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ
“Here you go, all good now,” exclaims Shoko after finishing to heal you, stepping back and sliding a cigarette in between her lips. Amazed, you look at her. How could that be possible ? Your knee was as new as before, only your jeans were ripped at the mid section. You move your leg a bit, realizing that it’s really not hurting anymore. Indeed, it was like magic.
“Wow, thanks a lot,” you whisper, and she winks at you, saying that she does this type of trick everyday.
“How come a curse attacked me ?” you ask, still scared of what you saw. Satoru is sitting next to you and having his arm wrapped around your shoulders, thumb softly caressing your skin as a way to calm yourself, or maybe it was for himself, you didn’t know.
“It was awfully close to tengen’s barrier, so that is the question. It almost never happens, unless the campus is under attack,” starts to ponder Satoru, sighing and massaging his temples as a way to smooth away his starting headache. It reminded him of what happened years ago, with the star plasma vessel mission, and Toji. The man that he killed with his own hands. 
“Yet nothing to signal, campus is safe for now,” adds Shoko, ready to light her cigarette, but Satoru snatches it away, making her glare at him.
“Don’t smoke, I already told you to stop that shit. Even more in front of my girl !” he complains, acting like the scent of the cigarette in his hands could make him throw up. Shoko takes it back and puts it again in its box, sighing.
“You’re a pain in the ass. But anyway, I’ll go tell Yaga that a curse appeared in front of the barrier and got dealt with by you. Don’t worry, I won’t mention the presence of your girlfriend,” she announces before giving you a smile, and then leaves after you thank her again.
Back alone in the infirmary room of the school, it’s quiet. Satoru is lost in thoughts, a guilty expression on his pretty face. He takes a deep breath, and then inhales longly.
“I don’t understand. Was it targeted against you specifically ? That could be a possibility, but how and why, that’s what I’m trying to get here,” he starts to question, frustrated.
“You think someone or something knows our secret ? But we hid it so well so far !” you retort, and Satoru stands up, walking in circles, thinking about the possible answer.
“That would be surprising. As far as I know, I always made sure that no one could discover, aside from Shoko, but that doesn’t count. She met you after the attack. So it’s maybe a coincidence. Let’s hope it is. If not… I’ll have to deal with our problem.”
“You mean… killing someone ?” you whisper, and he stops in his track to look at you in the eyes.
“Yeah. I already killed sorcerers in the past. Obviously, bad ones that went against ethics and the law. Not every person born with cursed energy uses it for the good, you know ? It’s my job to protect people, not only from curses, but including sorcerers too. It would be the same for someone that would target your life,” he affirms, no budging in his voice. You swallow thickly. You already knew what Satoru had to deal with, but as a non sorcerer, a normal human, it still felt weird to hear such things coming out of the voice of someone, even more from your own boyfriend.
“Yeah, I get it…” you sigh. He sighs too, and wraps his arm around you softly, cradling you against his chest and kissing the top of your head affectionately. 
“It’s for that it’s better to keep it a secret. For your safety… having a bounty on your head would mean exterminating any menace that would come your way,” he finishes, looking at you, and you stare at the shine in the blue of his iris, showing all the seriousness in the world. After all, since the minute he was born, Gojo Satoru has been chased down with deadly bounties on his head. He knew better than anyone else the feeling of constantly being tracked down. Each.minute.of.his.life. 
“I know, now let’s go do something that would occupy my mind. I don’t want to think back about what happened. I’m sure I will have nightmares…” you whisper and groan.
“Let’s go eat mochis downtown !” Satoru jumps back on his feet, all smiling now.
“Ah, but wait, you still have work to do. I literally brought you the documents you needed,” you disagree all of a sudden, yet Satoru still takes your hand to coax you to stand up.
“Screw that, you’re at the top of my to do list,” he shakes his head, insisting. You end up smiling, and follow him.
You didn’t know this day, how he meant his words. ‘Exterminating any menace that would come your way.’ 
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ
You were just finished with your day. Satoru would come to pay you a visit later in the night, since he was busy with missions and only available starting 10 PM. Taking the metro, you try to think of what you could eat for dinner tonight. Ordering food or cooking it ? That would just depend on how exhausted you are, at this point. You hold your ground as the train starts to move again once people are finished to enter the wagon and the door closes. You see a glimpse of someone tall with long black hair in a half tied bun.
Wait. Is that... Suguru ? You frown, and the moment you look at the silhouette better, he disappears. You were sure that for a second he was standing right in front of you. Were you hallucinating ? Yeah, you were tired… Why would you even hallucinate about this guy, anyways ?
As you leave the metro some minutes after, you pass by the small streets towards your apartment. When looking at the window of a store, you swear you saw in the reflection of it the damn grocery guy again ! You squint your eyes, stepping back. Nothing. Only you, and the passersby.
“I’m fucking crazy…” you whisper, shaking your head and continuing your walk.  
You look at your phone, and now you find yourself alone in the quietness of the night. Each step echoes in the silence. It’s too silent, you think. The light lamp of the alley illuminates your way. You put back your phone in your pocket when a cold wind caresses your neck, giving you goosebumps. You shiver, from head to toe, as if ice was rubbing against your skin. You snap back your attention, remembering oh so well this feeling. This same feeling that you had not so long ago… And here, standing in front of you, another shadow, a taller, much much taller one, compared to last time. Its eyes were yellow, and weird substance was emanating from its skin as an eerie high pitched voice murmured words that you couldn’t understand or make out.
Your stomach drops on your heels, and you stumble backwards, ready to scream of fear and run away. The moment you open your mouth, your back bumps into someone. You turn around sharply, only to be met with purple eyes.
“Are you okay…? Oh ? Y/n ? Is that you ?” asks the voice, and you can’t help but feel reassured to not be alone anymore. But quickly, still in panic, and afraid for your damn life, you exclaim as you directly step away.
“No, run ! It will attack you, otherwise-” 
“What are you talking about ? There is nothing here,” answers Suguru, grabbing your jacket to stop you from running away. Your breath gets caught in your throat, ready to yell at him, but when you spin around you realize that indeed, nothing or noone else was here. The shadow disappeared, and your heart slowly beats at a more normal pace.
“What ? But- I swear I…” you stutter.
“Ah, you must be tired. Maybe you should go back home. Is your boyfriend here to help you ?” he raises his eyebrow when softly answering, letting go of his grip on your clothes. You look at it then back at him again, and you feel reassured.
“No, he arrives later…” you whisper. You felt like what you saw wasn’t just you dreaming, but reality. It was here, in front of you. How could it have disappeared like that ? 
“Are you okay ? Want me to call him for you, to ask him to come get you ? What’s his name ?” he questions, eying you down.
Still in panic, you continue to look around frequently. Wanting to make sure that the curse really wasn’t waiting for any moment to come back and get you. Flashbacks of what happened before, how it was running after you, and if Satoru was one second late, how you would be probably six feet underground. You dig your nails in your palm, breathing heavily, unable to calm down.
“I… Uh... his name is Satoru,” you start to answer, and you see how the look of Suguru darkens, but quickly comes back to normal. “I’ll call him myself, it’s alright,” you finish.
“Want me to stay until he arrives ? It wouldn’t feel right to leave you in such a state, alone…” he hums, shaking his head as he crosses his arms over his chest while staring at you. 
“If you don’t mind, yeah…” you answer as you lean against the wall, and with a shaky hand you dial the number of your boyfriend in front of the purple eyes of your savior. He quickly answers, and you can hear how he is fighting at the same time some curse, but still decided to pick up the call.
“Yeah baby ? I’m dealing with some shitty low grades at the same time, hope you don’t mind !” he exclaims cheerfully, and in the background you can hear sounds of objects breaking. You put the phone tighter against your cheek, making sure only you could hear him. Well, that’s what you thought.
“I’m sorry to interrupt you, but can you come, please. I think.. it appeared again. I’m scared to the bones, not gonna lie. That shit is making me feel crazy,” you answer, turning your head as you sniff, biting your lower lip nervously and eyes roaming around, quite everywhere, sometimes landing on the black haired male that stares at you.
“What ? Alright, send me your location, I won’t take long. Are you alone ?” suddenly asks seriously Satoru, more grave now in his tone of voice. At the same time, you send your location as asked.
“No, I’m with, you know, Suguru, the guy that helped me last time. I bumped into him,” you explain, looking at him and he smiles as his eyes meet yours. 
Suguru. The moment this name left your mouth, Satoru froze. In one go, he activates his technique, done with fooling around, and hollow purple his opponent. In a ragged breath, he replies : 
“I’m on my way, don’t move.”
He hangs up, and you realize that he must have teleported. You face Suguru, and you try to give him a reassuring smile. Well, you should be the one to get reassured in this situation, actually.
“He’s on the way, he will soon be here, don’t worry,” you resume.
“I don’t worry about me, but more for you. Are you feeling better ? Was someone following you ?” he shakes his head answering that, tilting his head to the side.
“Something, yeah, I don’t know ? It’s complicated..” you try to say vaguely. After all, you couldn’t say to someone you barely knew that a curse was probably after you. Barely one year ago, before meeting Satoru, you had no idea about the existence of such things. Suguru narrows his eyes, letting out a hum.
“Looks like you are cursed, y/n,” he simply states, staring back at you. You shiver, and snap back your head at him.
“Cursed ? Ahah, what do you mean ?” you frown, replying with a quivering voice. Shit, you looked even more suspicious. But hey, wait, that was his answer, that was suspicious. Rather than yours.
“Don’t play dumb, y/n. I’m talking about curses,” he steps closer, smiling at you as if it was funny, and that this whole situation was just dumb. Where you dumb ?
“What ? Wait, hold on, you-”
“Looks like your boyfriend Gojo Satoru is back,” he cuts you off.
You directly turn around, snapping back towards the street. Meters away you see indeed the white haired male looking around, and when he spots you he rushes, you do too, and he catches you in his arms. His grip is tight and comforting, keeping you safe in the crook of his chest.
“I’m here, it’s alright. I sense no curses anymore, you’re safe,” he whispers in your ear, gazing around, blindfold off his eyes scanning the area.
“Anymore ? So it was here earlier, I wasn’t crazy ?” you ask with both fear and hope at the same time. A weird mix of feelings, to be honest. A horrifying duality.
“I sense its presence very faintly, as if it vanished,” Satoru continues to whisper, caressing your back to soothe you down, allowing your breathing to slow calmly back.
Talking about vanishing, you lift your eyes, only to realize that the black haired male disappeared, leaving only the two of you alone in this gloomy alley.
“Where is the guy ?” questions your boyfriend, lifting his head off your neck, hand on your cheek.
“Suguru ? He left already, I guess…” you reply, staring at the empty spot, and you sigh. Satoru narrows his eyes, humming, eyes scanning the area again.
“Let’s get you back home, ‘kay ?” he ends up saying, deciding to investigate this on his own. After all, he did sense again the faint smell of Suguru’s cursed energy. Geto Suguru, more exactly. And that couldn’t be a coincidence anymore. The Suguru you met was 99% sure the Suguru he knew. Satoru wasn’t an idiot. But he couldn’t let you know.
“Alright.. Thanks for coming, love,” you smile and he kisses softly your lips as a light peck. 
“Anytime,” he answers, before bringing you back home. Satoru wasn’t joking as usual, or teasing you as much as he does. He seemed preoccupied with something, surely about what happened, but it felt odd. The evening goes on, and Satoru stays at your side all night long.
As you cuddle your boyfriend in bed, half asleep and basking in the warmth of his body spooning yours, your eyes snap back open.
Hold on. Suguru said Gojo Satoru earlier. But you only remember giving him his name, and nothing more. How could he know his last name ? Did you imagine things ? 
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ
A whole month and a half passed. You quickly managed to forget about what happened, thanks to the help of Satoru, and forgot the weird things that Suguru said that night. It was even easier, since you didn’t see him again. In this month of february, you were covered in thick layers of blankets, keeping you warm as you drink hot chocolate in your cup. Satoru comes back from his shower, hair damp and changed into comfortable pajamas. With time, he ended up putting more and more of his personal stuff in your apartment, slowly becoming an important part of your life as your boyfriend. 
“Lemme take a sip,” he whines, suddenly sitting next to you on the couch and wrapping his cold arms around you. You shiver head to toe, yet he keeps his hands tightly against your skin.
“You’re freezing cold !” you exclaim, and he nonetheless takes a sip from your cup, smiling and licking his lips as he puts it back down. He squeezes your stomach, kissing your neck.
“Warm me up, then,” he coos, and makes you lie back down on the couch, straddling you as he continues to snuzzle your chest and draping the remaining blankets over the two of you.
“Don’t get too cozy, I’ll have to leave in 20 minutes,” you say, and he huffs, butterfly kissing your throat before biting your cheek smugly.
“Why do you have to go ? Can’t you stay here with your amazing boyfriend ?” he complains, and you squirm but he bites your cheek again, the left one this time. Not too hard, obviously.
“I promised my friend I would come, and hey, stop biting me-” you retort, and it results only in the chuckle of Satoru vibrating against your skin. He kisses it softly, as a way to make himself forgiven.
“I’ll wait here then, like a good househusband,” he muses and pecks your lips. You grin against his mouth, cool fingers caressing his face and looking at him in the eyes.
“You wish you were, uh ?” you tease him.
“Hmm, that would be a nice change from the constant draining work as The Strongest…” he whispers, cupping your breast in the palm of his hand under your shirt, and moving his lips against yours. You let out a breath of pleasure, his tongue licking your lower lip to allow him access. You slightly open your mouth, and start to make out with him in an affectionate and loving way. He lifts himself on his elbow, deepening the kiss to make it considerably more heated. His knee slides and gets in between your thighs, parting them inch by inch and pressing against your core on purpose. You moan slightly, and he smirks as he breathes more heavily, clearly getting turned on at your oh so sweet voice doing such noises.
You graze your nails against his undercut, making him shiver. He massages your breast, thumb caressing your nipple while his knee grinds against you. It hardens, and you arch slightly your back. He smiles even more, using his other hand to grab your hips to press you more against his grinding knee. The pleasure is slowly heating up, but before it gets too ahead of yourselves, you break the kiss.
“Satoru, I need to get ready,” you whisper. He pouts, slowly letting you go, and sighs before leaving you some space, doing a last final peck on your nose.
“Yeah yeah, my beautiful wife is getting taken away from me,” he whines dramatically. 
“Okay you dramaqueen,” you roll your eyes, and leave the warmth of the cushion to stand up and go take your bag and put on your coat and shoes. Satoru trails behind you and suddenly gives you his wallet. You raise an eyebrow, surprised.
“Use my card while you are out, and please yourself. In that way, it’s as if I would be with you. I mean, my wallet and money will, actually…” he explains his train of thoughts, and before you can answer he puts it inside your back. You were about to protest, but he started to push you outside towards the main door.
“Satoru that is so sweet, but you didn’t need to-”
“Nuh-uh, I insist. Spoil yourself, but don't drink too much, ‘kay ?” he interrupts you. You smile softly once you are two feet outside, and then bring him in a close hug. He wraps his arms around you too in return, and you go on your toes to kiss his cheek.
“Thank you, ‘toru. I’ll call you when I’m on my way back home, alright ?” 
“Go have fun !” he waves goodbye at you as you step back, and you give him one last glance before walking outside.
The evening goes by, and meeting with your friends to drink was upgrading your mood. You did use the card of Satoru, but still made it on purpose to not drink too much alcohol. After all, you wanted to come back home safe. And not like a drunk mess.
In the dim light of the bar, you lay back against the chair, looking at the ceiling after paying your final consumption. While you put back the card into your boyfriend’s wallet, you accidentally make something fall. You catch it on your thighs, and squint your eyes when you realize it’s an old picture of Satoru. He was in the company of who you recognized as Shoko, thanks to the mole and the cigarette in between her lips. But then the person to his other side strangely feels like his looks are familiar. Black hair tied in a bun, purple eyes, and ear piercings… Wait wait wait. Is that… on this pic... grocery guy, aka Suguru, with your boyfriend ? No way, no fucking way.
That’s crazy. No. Are you even sure ? Slightly panicked, all the dots connecting together, you turn around the picture and read what is written in small letters behind “Satoru, Suguru, Ieri, 2006”. You blink, once, twice.
That is Suguru. The Suguru you met multiple times, is the Suguru of the past of Satoru. This so-called “someone” he once knew. A strange feeling takes place in your gut, as if something was wrong, damn wrong. You swallow thickly, and now you understand how and why he had said all these weird things before, his reactions too. But, why… Why didn't Satoru tell you more about him ? All you knew is that they knew each other in the past. Nothing more, nothing else. Gojo was secretive, very secretive about this. It was apparently for the better, but right now, it was for your worst. 
Oh oh, you can’t shake off that nagging feeling, starting to be nervous and panicked. Something definitely was wrong in whatever happened this past weeks.
“I’ll go outside to get some fresh air,” you suddenly annonce to your friends, trying to smile to reassure them as they look concerned. You barely put back your coat, keeping in your hand the picture as you step out without waiting for an answer.
You lay against a wall, looking at the people passing by. You take deep breaths, trying to put some order in your mind. As you look up, seconds pass while you stare at the sky, but then, it’s as if everything got even darker than the night. It was like a veil was falling around you. You look back around, and you are now alone in the street. Your breath catches in your throat and you directly decide to go back inside the bar, not liking this at all.
The wind, cold and freezing, caresses your neck. Your heart jumps in your thoracic cage, and you feel sweat rolling down your forehead of nervousness and fear slowly creeping down your back. You decide to walk faster.
“Y/n, where do you think you are going ?” announces a familiar voice behind you.
You directly turn on your heels, and you are met with Suguru, his hair down, and in a different attire that you were used to seeing him. His presentence was far more gloomy, and the monk clothes he was wearing made him look like someone else. More like… the real him. And you knew at this moment that you were in danger. No matter how and why, you were in danger.
“Suguru ?! What is happening here ?” you snap, on edge.
“Satoru didn’t explain it to you ? I casted a veil. It’s only us in here,” he answers as if it was mock evidence, eying you up and down. He suddenly didn’t look as friendly as before. You step back, squeezing the picture in between your fingers.
“What the- are you a sorcerer too, then ? I just saw this picture and... Fuck. What is going on right now ?!” you start to panic, looking around again and again. You felt trapped.
“I guess he didn’t talk much about me. Even though we were best friends. Well, it’s understandable. You are a non sorcerer. It’s not like you would get it, anyways,” he sighs, shaking his head as if he was disappointed. 
“No, he didn’t. But that’s... for now it’s not the most important. I want you to tell me why you are here, casting this veil, and what are your real intentions. Because I doubt now that each time we met, it was from pure accidents or coincidences” you deduce, your gut screaming to you that it was right. You weren’t that dumb, after all.
“You’re smarter than I thought, for a non sorcerer,” he chuckles dryly, slowly walking towards you and circling you. You keep your eyes on him, feeling cornered.
“See, the problem here, is that I would have never expected that the grand Gojo Satoru would be dating a normal human. Imagine my surprise ! You just are a weakness, a big weakness for him, at this point,” he explains, glancing at you from the corner of his eyes as he caresses his chin. 
“How did you discover that ?!” you exclaim, stepping away, not answering the way he pathetically described you. 
“I wasn’t sure at first. Because of my way of life, I always have to keep an eye on Gojo Satoru. One of my curses reported to me that he saw you frequently at his sides when he was being as a civilian outside. I had to see it for myself... That was easy. Well, you were the one that told me yourself that you had a boyfriend, named Satoru. It didn’t take me much, actually.”
Oh, poor you. You didn’t know who Geto Suguru was, aside from the past best friend of your boyfriend. How could you have the clue that he deflected Jujutsu Society years ago to become a wanted criminal, creating a cult, despising non sorcerers to his soul. How could you, really ? Satoru should have told you, and maybe, more likely surely, you wouldn’t have gotten yourself into this situation. 
“So all along… it was to get an answer… Did you staged all this ? From the very beginning ?!” you almost stutter, utterly shocked and feeling like a mouse getting played by a cat. 
“Yeah,” he simply responds casually, as if it wasn’t the most mind blowing thing you heard today. You gasp, eyes wide open.
“What is wrong with you…” you whisper horrified.
“Oh no, the only wrong thing here is you, y/n. Do you really not know who I am aside from your boyfriend's past best friend ? That could have maybe helped you out there,” he sighs and gets closer, menacing.
“You’re a goddamn devil in disguise, that’s what you are,” you add, narrowing your eyes and clenching your hands, angered. 
“Close. I’m just doing what I think is right, getting rid of the filthy things that stench this world. You’re part of that, actually. But well, I started to get attached to you, you see ? Funny when I despise you at the same time. Too bad you’re a non sorcerer, and the girlfriend of my now nemesis,” he ends up brutally, face suddenly becoming as cold as ice and then raising his hand up, a black spiral forming on his palm.
In utter fear of what could happen, you quickly try to run away, not wanting to lose any more time, knowing what would occur next would be bad, very bad for you, if you didn’t exit quickly. But the moment you rush towards the end of the veil, a big, more like gigantic bird, as huge as a dinosaur, appears before you and opens his mouth wide. Masked men jump out of it, and suddenly grab you and one yanks you brutally towards them. You try to squirm, like a wild and feral animal, but they drag you with them back towards the bird without much difficulty, threatening you. You just have the time to scream, that it swallows you in its mouth, and then all you see is pitch black before the void. 
The curse vanishes, as soon as Suguru Geto does as well. The veil is gone, and the only thing that is left is the old picture of the trio on the cold ground of the lonely street.
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ
Back to the present. February 16, 11 : 26 PM, Gojo Satoru exterminated 7 upper grades curses. 
12 : 06 AM, Gojo Satoru killed 5 sorcerers.
It wasn’t hard to trail back to you, actually. The moment you disappeared, your friends didn’t take long to notice your vanishment. They tried to contact at first people that they were sure would know maybe where you were. Going on your phone and on your emergency calls, they contacted your boyfriend. As soon as he came, being as quick as possible and dread consuming him, he knew. He knew because he saw the picture on the floor, grabbing it in his hand and staring at it in the void. Your vanishment wasn’t something what normal humans would think, and maybe he didn’t like that idea as much, knowing it could be worse, way worse than you just running away. 
Following the cursed energy, he arrived in an abandoned building. Bit by bit, like a rat following the smell of cheese, he went to each place and corner where he could slightly feel your presence. Satoru knew it was a trap, but your safety was his top tier priority.
Minutes passed, and everytime he faced an opponent that didn’t give him any proper answer, annoyance took over him. It was maddening, frustrating. Satoru was going crazy at the idea that you could be dead right now, somewhere lifeless, and how it probably was his fault. His eyes were cold, as freezing as ice, having no more patience left anymore.
“Who’s next ?” he asks, each step echoing in the corridor, searching for you, but too for someone else to rip their damn head off if they go on his way. 
He senses the presence of another sorcerer, but they run fast, fearful, not wanting to live their last seconds on earth being exterminated by The Strongest in a monstrous way like their other comrades.
“Pathetic,” he whispers, about to go after his new found victim, an unhinged smile forming on his lips, but he stops dead on his track when he senses your presence faintly.
With no other thoughts, he teleports there immediately. He appears suddenly in front of a door, and bangs it open brutally, breathing heavily. Time stops the moment his eyes meet the purple ones of his best friend, his nemesis, his one and only. And then his smile drops, when he sees you unconsciously laid in his arms while he sits lazily on a tatami.
 12 : 31 AM, Gojo Satoru found you back. But not alone.
“Satoru ! Long time no see,” exclaims Suguru, smiling at him like he used to in the past.
“Suguru…” whispers the white haired male, standing almost lifeless, body feeling limp.
“You were quicker than I thought. Even if I know you’ve been knowing for weeks now. I’ve enjoyed the chase, right, Satoru ? Yet, we still didn’t reach the end, you and I. And you know that very well,” he hums, his hand softly touching your unconscious face before looking back up at your boyfriend. 
“Suguru, don’t involve her into that,” he simply says, voice firm as he wipes some of the blood off his face.
“I never thought you would date a weakling, you, that always said they were a pain to protect. Look where it brought you. It’s a weakness that I can use against you, and I’m doing it,” he states, narrowing his eyes while he taps his fingers against his thigh. Tap, tap, tap.
“I changed, you made me change. You were the first one to say we had to protect the weaker for the best,” answers Satoru, stepping closer and being tense, ready to attack at any second. The dim light from the candles next to the black haired man illuminates your unconscious face. At least you didn’t look hurt, just asleep, as if everything that happened was just a dream, or a living nightmare.
“Well, I changed my mind. I learnt my lesson, and you know that it’s too late to make me think otherwise,” sighs Suguru, replying with a colder tone. Some seconds pass in silence where they just look at each other in a heavy silence.
“... Suguru. Let her go, she has nothing to do with our little game of cat and mouse,” continues Satoru, more calmly, almost pleading.
“Don’t tell me you are that attached ? If I hurt her, kill her, would you finally kill me ?” scoffs Geto.
“Yes.” That was the simple answer of The Strongest, raising his hand and positioning his fingers, ready to activate red or blue any moment now.
“At least we think the same,” ends up answering Suguru vaguely in a quiet voice, looking at the fingers of his once best friend. A moment passes. Then, he puts you down on the floor, and stands up slowly, now facing the white haired male. 
“Poor thing. There is no curse more twisted than love… Next time, curse me too a little bit in the end,” adds Suguru, letting out a mocking laugh, staring into the soul of Satoru through his eyes. 
Satoru doesn’t answer, not knowing what to answer. He keeps his fingers up, shaking, and then he grabs you with his free hand, using his technique to make you not fall and glued to his palm. He tried to control his breathing, feeling in between numb and overwhelmed. Both in a strange duality.
“You killed an awful amount of my curses and mercenaries. Well, at least I can keep the money of the bounty for myself, since they can’t reclaim it anymore,” he starts to say, raising his eyebrow and then invoking a curse next to him. Satoru’s eyes snap towards it, ready in case it attacks.
“But don’t rest easy, I’ll make you pay back in kind. I like that new student of yours, Yuta Okkotsu…” the black haired male continues, and then a void slowly appears under his feet, created by the curse.
“Leave the kids alone, Suguru,” snaps Satoru, frowning, and stepping menacingly closer. But he had to be careful, having you with him meant he had to be extra cautious.
“Then kill me now.” These single words made the heart of The Strongest sink, and his fingers tighten. He grits his teeth, feeling like he was 18 again, surrounded by a crowd and unable to stop his best friend after finding out he deflected and massacred a whole village.
Satoru couldn’t kill Suguru, not yet.
“Right. Next time, maybe. Goodbye, Satoru. Say hi to y/n too,” finishes his best friend, before vanishing in the void created by the curses. It disappears too, leaving only the two of you alone. The candles slightly waver at this change of atmosphere, and Satoru breathed again. He brings you up in his arms, scooping your asleep self against his chest. He cradles you, burying his face in your hair and inhaling your scent.
“Y/n, I’m sorry. So sorry…”
Gojo Satoru feels a tear rolling down his cheeks, and it’s the first time in a long time that he breaks character and his fake bravado.
જ⁀➴ ⠀ׂ
“Satoru, I swear I’m good now. Shoko already checked me up. Well, maybe I would need some therapy, but trust me, I’m not hurt,” you try to reassure your boyfriend, as he sits next to you on the bed, making sure you were okay. His hand slowly caresses your cheek, and you lean on his palm, appreciating his touch.
He had dark circles under his eyes. Satoru didn’t sleep for 56 hours. After what happened, he didn’t close his eyes aside from blinking, making sure you were okay, paranoid and on edge that something else could happen to you. He sighs, staring at your face and rubbing his thumb against your cheek.
“Y/n, it’s for your safety… You know I can’t rest,” he insists, shaking his head and gripping slightly your cheek.
“Satoru, love, you need to sleep. I’m with you, nothing will happen,” you reply, sliding your fingers against his, and interwinning them together, kissing his knuckles. 
He looks at you in silence in the quietness of the night.
“I can’t sleep, not after what happened,” he continues, passing his free hand against his face, trying to wipe the tiredness away. 
“You need to,” you answer, frowning, clearly concerned. He doesn't answer, looking at the window instead. He looked so drained, almost like the living dead that crawled back from the cemetery. You felt like that if you blew on him, he could break. The Strongest would damn break. 
“Satoru, you’re going to drop dead if you continue doing this. You can’t keep up, please, for the love of God, listen to me,” you add, tugging on his hand to make him look at you, a hint of despair in your voice.
“Y/n, it was all my fault, I-” he shakes his head, biting his lower lip.
“Stop saying that !” you snap.
“You don’t get it ! If I didn’t protect my own peace, If I decided to open up more to you in the past and told you about Suguru, and everything that happened, maybe nothing of this would have happened. This is all because of my own fear of vulnerability, of thinking it was better like that, to keep you safe, and keep myself safe from remembering the past. I don’t know anymore. I messed up badly, and I’m not allowed to mess up. I don’t know. I’m so tired from all this. Fuck, I… I can’t even think straight right now,” he exclaims at first, but ends up laughing nervously. He surely was becoming more and more crazy as the hours passed.
Your heart sinks, and you look at him sadly.
“Shhh… come here, come here,” you whisper, and bring him towards you. You wrap your arms around his body and he immediately hugs you back close, squeezing you strongly as if his life depended on it. He shakes, big hands covering your back and keeping you in the crook of his heart. He kisses your lips softly, like an anchor to reality.
“It’s alright. Maybe, if you start to tell me about it, it’ll help you sleep better at night ?” you propose after some seconds. He looks at you in the eyes, not answering at first, debating inside his head.
“Alright…” he ends up saying. He sighs deeply, and then takes a long breath to gather the strength he needed to talk about this, to open up his heart, to expose his vulnerable past and mistakes.
“Suguru and I, back in the days, we both were The Strongest. Nothing could stop us, really. He was my best friend, my one and only, actually. But everything went downhill when we got assigned the star plasma vessel mission…”
Satoru starts to explain, laying back down on the bed against you. While he talks, you look at him and gently caress his back to sooth him down. As the minutes passed, his eyes started to close against his will, and he found himself fast asleep in your arms.
You kiss one last time his head, bringing him closer to share all your warmth, and love.
For once, you’ll be the one to look over him tonight.
You were his to protect. But he was yours to protect too. 
And that, no matter what would happen in the future. 
THE END
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phosphns · 3 days ago
Text
⌗ . . . bathroom sex with dealer!chris
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warns. smut. oral [f. receiving]. unprotected sex [don’t be silly]. porn without plot. creampie. explicit language. degradation kink. pet names [doll, baby, princess]. teasing, lowercase intended.
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“chris — please — move!” your hips instinctively nudged forward, searching for just a shred of contact with his fingers, which where buried deep inside you, still.
he shook his head, amused by your pathetic reaction at his touch. “uh-huh. you’ve been such a bad girl the instant we stepped into this party,” he said, keeping his free hand at the side of your head, trapping you between his body and the wall.
when he dragged you into this bathroom by the arm you knew what was coming. you actually had seen it coming from the moment you decided to wear that tight, little dress — the one he expressly affirmed he didn’t want you to wear.
“you knew this would happen, didn’t you?” he suddenly curled his fingers inside you, caressing your insides, making you let out a load moan. “you acted so bossy out there with that douchebag, what happened now?” he added, alluding to your wasted status.
he had in fact barely touched you, pushing you against the cold tiles and lifting your slutty garment up to your navel as soon as you entered the bathroom and you already were a moaning mess, craving for more of his touch.
“please chris — i-i need you,” you said blubbering. he smirked down at you. “need me to what?” he teased. you could tell he was holding back. his eyes were dark and glossy in lust and desire and if you only moved your leg a little bit you could’ve felt the hard-on that was starting to grow between his legs.
“need you.. need you to- to make me feel good,” you were slurring your words, trying to stay still to not upset him more, even if everything you could feel in that moment was your aching core begging to be relieved.
he bit his lips, moving his head in disapproval “gonna need something more, princess” the brunette said, approaching dangerously to your face. he started to leave a trail of wet kisses all over your jaw and neck.
you swore you were about to lose it and starting fucking yourself on his fingers on your own.
“chris — chris — please make me cum. i need it- need you so bad,” you begged him miserably, closing your eyes at the overwhelming sensation of his mouth on your collarbone.
“look at me — he grabbed your chin with two fingers, making your eyes flutter open — y’think you deserve it?” he said, pulling away from your chest and looking at you in your eyes, which were imploring for some kind of contact. “you deserve to cum after acting like a slut in front of me and the whole party? mh?”
he started to move his middle and pointer finger inside you painfully slowly, making your spine shiver and your mouth let out a whimper. his thumb reached your swollen clit, rubbing it just as slowly. you tried to say something but a low whine broke the words in your throat.
“mh? fuckin’ answer me,” his fingers went abruptly deeper, while he placed his knee between your legs, blocking them to close.
“i don’t! i was such a slut! i’m sorry- please i’m sorry!” you almost screamed in frustration.
he sharply removed his fingers from my heat, grabbing you by the waist and turning you around, making you face the big mirror. “i think you need a reminder of who you belong to,” he roamed his hands all over your body, caressing your hips sensually.
you could feel his boner pocking onto your ass, so you pushed back on purpose, trying to have some friction. “mhm, you surely need it,” he added, before shoving two fingers inside your pussy once again, this time his pace was fast and rough.
your eyes closed again due the overstimulation that you were accumulating. “didn’t ya understand me? i want those pretty eyes open,” he repeated. what you saw once you accomplished was your reflection being fingered-fucked by your boyfriend, and that did nothing but turn you on even more.
your mouth kept letting out a sequence of moans and whines, as you felt the familiar tension building up in your stomach. “god — right there, don’t stop, please”
his gaze was fixed on his digits appearing and disappearing inside you, moving it on your face when you letted out a nearly pornographic moan. “you like bein’ treated like the whore y’are, don’t you?”
“yes, yes, yes,” you repeated like a mantra, getting off on the wet sounds that the contact made. he speeded up his pace, pumping his fingers furiously in and out of you, knowing that you were getting closer and closer.
as you were about to reach your climax, he stopped again, making you groan. “no, no please, i was so close!” you cried out.
he ignored you, removing his hand for the umpteenth time that night to hook his fingers onto the fabric of your panties, pulling them down to your knees. “if you’re gonna cum, you’re gonna do it on my cock,” he said, pushing your back down, so that you were bent over the counter.
he didn’t waste time to pull down his zipper and take out his length, that slapped on his stomach because of the stimulation. his red mushroom tip was leaking pre-cum, streaming down his erection.
he took it in his free hand and beat it a few times, before lining it up with my entrance. he rubbed it between my folds, gathering some of your juices as lube. “these were your intentions f’this party, isn’t that right?” he kept teasing.
you arched your back, trying to have his dick finally buried deep inside you, as you, indeed, had tried all night long. “please chris — i-i need it” you mumbled, biting your bottom lip so hard that almost bled.
“you knew i had deals to take care of, and yet, there you were, grinding yourself on some random jerk” he traced a finger on your back, from your neck to your ass, delivering an harsh slap on your right cheek.
you were a mess at this point, your stare on his face, on his lips, on his body, in the hope that he would’ve done something anytime soon.
suddenly, he slammed his hips forward, making your eyes roll back in your head from the shock. he didn’t give you time to adjust to his size, he just began to move in and out roughly, his pace fast and constant. his hands rested firmly on your hips, you both breathing heavily as he hit all the deeper spots.
one of his hands flew to your bundle of nerves, grazing against it to add pleasure at your already near climax.
“chris” you moaned, saying the only thing you were able to vocalize. your face was contorted in gratification, your knuckles becoming white due the hard grip you had on the counter.
“shit — i know baby,” he whispered, continuing to slam his hips on your ass, his balls on your clit. his grasp grew harder on your skin, sign that he was close too.
you started feeling the peak in your stomach, your legs becoming jelly and trembling. you couldn’t hold back anymore. “i’m gonna come — god, chris i’m ‘bouta —”
“fuuck — cum for me, doll” he told you, continuing thrusting in you nonstop.
it only took you one sentence and a few moments to start creaming on his cock, feeling it twitching inside you. “aah — chris… oh my god” 
you finally felt l his cum spurting in your cunt, the warm liquid filling you up. he pulled out, letting out one last moan, the two of you trying to re-stabilize your breathing. 
you tried to lift your back, but chris stopped you, making you bend over again. you felt his fingers on your core once again, “chris — no more — m’too sensitive,” i cried out.
“nuh-uh. not letting any of it going wasted” he said, collecting his semen and yours that was leaked out your pussy to put them back in. your cunt hurt for the overstimulation, all red and puffy — to him, it hadn’t never looked prettier.
when he finally pulled away, you raised your panties up and lowered the dress down, fixing — or attempting to — your hair and make up to make it seem like you hadn’t occupied the room for over thirty minutes.
“you okay?” chris asked you, turning you around. he wrapped his arms around your waist, your back hitting the counter. i nodded, “yeah, i think i remember now” you said making him smirk.
“you made me lose a buyer — we’re not done” he added, half joking and half serious. i let out a chuckle, my hands flying around his neck, brushing my lips on his.
he closed the gap and gave me a soft kiss, before pulling away and putting his arm around my shoulder. we leave the room, acting like nothing happened under the judging gazes of the long queue of people who were waiting to use the toilet.
“i hope you enjoyed your fuck, fuckin’ almost made me piss myself”
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yaps. it was supposed to be shorter but i got too involved… anyway i need him so bad it’s concerning.
wc. 1,5k
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not-neverland06 · 4 months ago
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Hii ! I was hoping you could do Logan x Reader where all the teachers go to a club, and the Reader starts dancing with Storm and Jean while Logan is sitting on a couch, looking at her. They both have a crush on each other, but they don't know it, so when the Reader notices Logan staring at her, she gets shy and decides to go get a drink. When she got her drink, a guy starts flirting with her, and Logan obviously sees it. he gets jealous and walks up to the guy telling him to leave her alone. After they talk for a bit, the Reader accidentally confesses and Logan kisses her. this ends up in a private room with Logan fucking her as he always wanted. I know this is a long request and I'm sorry for that, bue I'm a writer myself, so I already had develop this bit of the story in my head. I completely understand if you don't want to do it. Hope you have an awesome day !!🤗❤️ Love your writing btw
a/n: I loved this prompt so much, did switch it up a bit bc I faced a bit of writer's block trying to flesh this out!! (and if I said I was listening to Thong Song while writing this, what then?)
18+ MDNI (fucking in a club bathroom, if that's not your thing, move on out)
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Logan rummages around somewhere behind you, digging through the cabinets and moving everything around. The longer he searches, the more confused you grow. Your brows furrow as he cusses to himself.
There’s a low grunt of frustration as Logan rounds the kitchen island to glare at you. His face is screwed up in anger that seems to be misdirected towards you. You give him an awkward look, “Uh, hi?”
“He stole my booze,” he responds shortly and without explanation. You shake your head in confusion as the dots slowly connect. A small smile curls up on your lips but the glare he gives you makes it quickly drop. 
“Well, you know Charles' rules about it,” you tell him flippantly. Logan huffs and shoves away from the counter. He turns back to the fridge, destroying the organizational system as he continues his search. You roll your eyes, eating your food and watching him with a bored expression. 
Jean walks just as he really begins to work himself up. Her face pinches in distaste, catching on to the root of his anger quicker than you had. She looks at you with a small smirk. “Charles?”
“Yep," You answer, eyes still trained on him. He finally gives up the futile search, moving to stand beside you. Your eyes widen and you try not to physically react to his proximity. It’s an everyday struggle to remain calm around him. You’re desperately trying to keep a cool girl persona but you don’t think it's working. 
You’re pretty sure he sees right through your pathetic attempts at nonchalance every time you two are paired on a mission. Jean notices the look on your face and smiles slightly. “The rest of us are thinking of going out tonight.”
It's not an offer with her, more of a demand for the two least sociable members of the team. She gives you both expectant looks, ignoring the way you minutely shake your head in disapproval at the idea of going out.
“Pass,” Logan grunts. He steps away from you, making for the kitchen door. Jean quickly steps in front of him, firmly placing her hand on his chest and giving him a stern look.
You feel like you're missing something as they silently converse with tense looks and aggressive eye motions towards you. You might be worried they're flirting if it weren't for how fed up they both look right now with one another.
Your brows furrow in confusion and it only worsens when Logan lets out an aggrieved huff. “Fine. I’ll come.” He gives Jean a thin smile, “Happy?” 
She releases him and moves out of the way with a smug look. “Very. You’ll thank me, by the way.” She says to his retreating back, ignoring whatever he mutters back to her.
You’re completely lost about what that was but don't have much time to process it before Jean turns her attention to you. You already know what she wants and you immediately shake your head. “No, nope, you know I don’t like going out.” Jean smiles at you, but you know she’s just pretending to agree with you. 
“Jean,” your voice is sharp as you glare at her. “Not happening.”
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You really regret ever befriending her. She’s either ridiculously persuasive or she's used her mind-warping abilities on you.
You're squished between Ororo and Logan on a sticky club booth. The smell of booze and cheap perfume soaks through your senses. You feel the beginnings of a headache forming as the music pounds.
While you love the feeling of Logan's biceps pushed up against you, you hate the club more. Storm catches the tense look on your face and sighs in disappointment.
"We need to get some more alcohol in you," she tells you with a faux sense of authority. "Come on," she nods her head and for a moment you think she's talking to you. But, with a move that seems practiced, Scott and Jean both follow her out of the booth and head toward the bar.
You watch them go with a suspicious glint in your eye, not trusting how smoothly they all just conveniently slipped away. That leaves just you and Logan behind at the table and you doubt that's coincidental.
They've been a little pushy about this crush of yours ever since they found out. They insist that he feels the same way about you as you do him. But you sincerely doubt he's fantasizing about going on romantic picnics with you and thinking of mushy dates.
He seems like the kind of guy to value silence over a girlfriend and you doubt you're his type. You don't tend to stray from the rules, ever. You don't think there's much you two have in common, as much as the others insist the opposite.
You give him a subtle look over. He hasn't moved away from you, which seems like a good sign. There's plenty of space for him to go now, but he keeps himself pressed up against you.
But, he's also not looking at you. His thumb is idly tracing the rim of his glass and he's refusing to take his eyes off the stained wood of the table. You know he can feel the way you're staring at him, but he's stubbornly refusing to acknowledge your presence. It almost feels petty and that makes you scoff and roll your eyes at the thought. You doubt Logan cares enough to be petty.
Practically in love with me, you think sarcastically. 
You know your friends are taking longer than necessary at the bar, trying to give the two of you some privacy. You feel like a high school girl, trying to get the cool guy to like her when he literally couldn’t give two shits. 
Your friends being pushy about the two of you really isn't helping anything. It only gives you false hope, and when he's inevitably a jerk again, it just makes all your little fantasies come crashing down.
You pick up your glass, tipping your head back and letting the alcohol warm you from the inside out. You've done your hair, spent forever doing your makeup, and you put on your favorite slutty dress. You don't feel like sitting here all night sulking alongside your unrequited crush.
More often than not, Logan is nothing more than a wet blanket. You've put in the effort and dragged yourself outside for once, you'd like to enjoy the experience. He could come find you when he felt like pulling the stick out of his ass. You slide out of the booth with a huff, uncaring as the hem of your dress rolls up your thighs. 
“Where’re you going?” Logan demands, voice gruff. Now he wants to pay attention, figures. 
You turn around and glare down at him. His eyes rove slowly over you, the way they should have been all night. His gaze is a physical caress and his stare lingers along your body. You can practically feel his touch on the curves of your hips. Slowly, he looks back up to meet your eye, something like a challenge on his face. 
You assess him, raising a brow and shrugging. “I’m gonna dance.” Something has possessed you or there’s a very talented telepath manipulating you right now. In a rare display of confidence you lean over the table, breasts pushed out towards him. “Wanna join me?” You ask, breath barely above a whisper. 
He scoffs and goes back to glaring at the table. Whatever confidence you had settles coldly in the bottom of your gut. “Not my thing, kid,” he gripes, every bit the crotchety old man. 
You roll your eyes, playing off the sting of rejection as an annoyance. “Of course, you’re not. You’re not having fun unless everyone else is miserable,” you snap. His eyes shoot up to meet yours, something like shock playing on his face. 
You don’t let him respond, already turning on your heel and walking off. As much as you like Logan, sometimes this attitude of his becomes tiring. What’s wrong with wanting to have fun for a night?
You’re not usually a huge fan of clubs. But when you’re out with your friends, you’re not going to actively ruin their night. As rude as that was, it’s right. He’s the “cool” kid in high school who thought everything was lame and never wanted to enjoy anything. 
So, what? You like to get a little drunk and sloppy sometimes, maybe if he ever tried it he might be less miserable. You head towards the bar, spotting Ororo’s hair easily through the crowd. You slide behind her, slipping your arm over her shoulder, “Hey pretty,” you whisper in her ear, laughing as she jumps. 
She turns and glares at you, swatting at your shoulder. “You’re lucky I didn’t hurt you.”
“Ooh, save it for later.” She rolls her eyes and passes you a shot. You take it with a smile, wincing at the burn of the tequila. “You wanna dance?” You have to shout to be heard over the music but you know she hears you when her eyes widen in surprise. 
She glances behind you and you don’t have to look to know Logan is glaring daggers at your back. You can feel him and it's pissing you off. “What happened?” You know she can tell something is up, you’re never this outgoing when you go out. But you don’t want to talk about finally coming to terms with the fact that you and Logan aren’t going to work out. 
Instead, you hold your hand out and wink. “Wanna dance or not?” She laughs a little, slipping her palm into yours and letting you drag her out onto the dance floor. It’s been a while since you’ve actually been sober dancing. You usually like to be near blackout drunk, but you just don’t have the energy for that tonight. 
Ororo is a little tipsier than you, clearly having been drinking while she was waiting at the bar. Her inhibitions are looser and she’s giggling as you move your hips against hers. Neither of you is dancing to impress, you’re messily moving around each other to the beat of the music. You don’t pay attention to the people around you, just having fun by yourselves. 
Ororo takes your hand, spinning you a little and pulling you back into her arms. You laugh, swaying your hips to the same rhythm she is, chests pressed tightly together while you smile at each other. 
She only lasts a few songs before she pulls back. “I need a drink,” she yells before stumbling back towards the bar. You feel yourself deflate, not sure what to do with yourself now that your favorite dancing partner has ditched you. 
You look through the mass of grinding bodies and try and spot your table. You can’t see much through the brightly colored lights spinning all around you. Everything’s a little disorienting and the shots you’ve had aren’t helping. 
Someone’s hand slips around your waist, “Your friend left you all alone?” Normally, you’d push whoever it was off and tell them to back off. But he’s got an attractive voice and you can feel how fit he is against your back. 
“You gonna keep me company?” You tease, voice a low purr as you push back against him. Your hands drift down to his arms, pulling them a little tighter around your waist. He chuckles, the noise reverberating through your back. 
You barely even get a chance to dance before your back is cold and you can feel his arms forcibly ripped off you. It doesn’t take much digging to find the culprit. Logan is behind you, hand fisted in the guy’s collar, “Why don’t you back off, bub?” He shoves him back and you roll your eyes as the guy scrambles off. 
“What the hell was that?” You demand arms crossed as you glare at Logan. 
He turns around and you’re surprised at the intensity of his glare. Something about it has you heated for an entirely different reason. He’s staring down at you like he’s gonna pounce on you. Your heart races, thighs clenching the longer he’s glowering at you. 
He shouldn’t be allowed to be so attractive when he’s pissed off. He reaches forward, grabbing your bicep and jerking you into his chest. He leans down until his lips are brushing against your ear. “You wanna dance, let’s dance, kid.”
“What-”
He cuts you off, flipping you around and pulling your back flush against him. You can feel just how much your little show with Storm got him going. You truly weren’t doing anything too alluring, but it seems to be enough for him. 
When you don’t move his hands drop to your hips and he grinds them down against him. “Logan,” you gasp his name out, caught off guard by how brazen he’s being in the middle of the club. There are people around you doing much worse but you’ve never known him to be this bold before. 
“You trying to make me jealous?” It’s hard to pay attention to what he’s saying, to focus on anything at all when his hand is drifting steadily down your body. The tips of his fingers just barely brush the skin of your thigh while his thumb lets the hem of your dress curl up. 
He flips you around, taking his hands off of you and instead tilting your chin up to face him. “I said,” he repeats in a condescending tone, “were you trying to make me jealous?” He doesn’t sound like he’s taking you seriously. Even if that was your intention, he thinks it’s just your petty way of lashing out at him for not dancing. 
You narrow your eyes at him and swat his hands off of you. “No. I wasn’t trying to make you jealous. I was trying to have some fun since you’re clearly not interested at all.”
That insufferable smirk of his doesn’t go away for a minute. If anything, he’s more incensed by your anger. “Who said I wasn’t interested?” Your lips part, another dumb little noise about to slip out when he dips down and stops you. 
He’s not trying to be subtle at all, gripping your dress and tugging you up against him while your lips lock. His tongue dips briefly into your mouth, savoring the taste of tequila on your gums before he pulls back. 
“I’m interested in you, kid, just not this shitty little club.” Your mouth is gaping and you feel like a fool, standing there and just staring at him. Your brain is completely scrambled, bits and pieces forming together to scream that he kissed you. Too many things are happening at once. The music is making the floor beneath you vibrate, liquor is warming you from the inside out and tilting you closer to him. And he kissed you. Your lips are still tingling from it. 
He chuckles a little under his breath, keeping you moving steadily against him. You’re simply something to be puppeteered by your desire for him. No thoughts linger inside your brain except his name. “You’re interested in me?” You repeat dumbly.
He leans down, tilting his lips closer towards your ear. “You can’t feel how much I want you?” One of your thighs is practically draped over his leg and he’s grinding his hips against you. The only thing you can feel is him. The smell of his cologne overpowers all the bodies surrounding you both, his voice drones out the loud music around you. You’re completely consumed by him. 
“Logan,” your tone is scandalized, you can’t believe he’s bold enough to have you nearly half-naked on his lap right now. Your butt is one wrong move away from being the club’s newest attraction. Yet, despite every protest lingering on your tongue, you can’t do anything except kiss him again. 
You don’t know if the moment is all one vivid wet dream your brain has conjured up at three am and you don’t feel like finding out. You want to enjoy being risky for once. You always play everything so safely. You don’t confess your feelings to Logan so you aren’t rejected. You never break the rules, you never act out. Just once, you want to do something bad and enjoy it. 
Your arms twine around his neck and you tilt your head to deepen the kiss further. You feel his reaction more than you hear it. A low grumble in his chest that has you practically vibrating with want. He pulls away from you first and it takes a moment for your eyes to flutter back open. 
When you finally do meet his gaze again, he’s got nothing but a smoldering desire in his eyes that makes you want to melt. He’s staring you down like you’re prey to be chased and consumed. “Can’t do this here,” he mutters. 
You’re almost shocked that he’s the first one to cut this off. You knew it was going to happen, you can’t exactly fuck in the middle of the dance floor. As much as you might want to. But you thought you would be the one to chicken out. 
He grabs your hand and shoves through the throng of grinding bodies. You grab the back of his shirt, stumbling after him and trying to stay close. “As much as I’d like to make that poor son of a bitch watch me fuck you, we need a little more privacy.”
It takes you a moment to realize he’s talking about the man you’d danced with earlier. If you could even qualify that as dancing. He’d barely put his hand on your waist before Logan had appeared out of nowhere.
Your eyes narrow in suspicion and you glare at his back. How had he even gotten to you so quickly? He must have been watching you like a creep the whole time. You almost want to laugh at the thought. But you’re distracted by him nudging you through a door and locking it behind you. 
You glance around, spotting three sinks and some cracked mirrors. Toilet stalls linger to your right and your nose wrinkles in disgust. You turn around to complain but he’s already stalking toward you. Whatever sanitary complaints were lingering in the back of your throat are thrown out the sealed bathroom window. 
He buries his hands in your hair, ruining the meticulously placed style. You arch into his hold, opening your mouth for him to explore and gasping as his hand drops to your hips. He tugs you closer, ripping your dress up and yanking your underwear down in one smooth move. 
You barely have a second to process half of what’s happening before he’s got you bent over the sink. It’s all happening so fast, so many different desires of yours surging to the surface in one dingy club bathroom. 
You’re slick with months of fantasies and sleepless nights where not even your vibrator could curb your desire for him. You hear his belt clink behind you and your back arches like a cat in heat. You practically present yourself to him, so desperate to feel him that you don’t care how much of a slut you’re being. 
You know, if this was anyone else, you’d slap them for even suggesting the bathroom as the first place you have sex. But you’d have let Logan take you in the alley behind the club. You don’t care where you are, just so long as it's with him. And you know that desire runs a bit deeper than just a surface-level crush. 
He doesn’t give you much warning as he thrusts into you. The breath is practically punched out of you as he fills you. Everything about it feels right. You’re so full of him you feel like you could explode. You know it’s going to take a pathetically short time for you to come. It’s just too much, too fast, you’re so overwhelmed by him. 
“Oh god, Logan,” the porcelain creaks under your palms before you feel it splintering off into your skin. You can’t pay attention to it, though, jaw agape, capable of nothing more than slutty moans of his name. 
He’s relentless behind you, thrusting so hard inside you that it feels like a punishment. He fists his hand in your hair and forces you to look in the mirror. “Come on, want you to see how wrecked you are. What a fucking slut you’re being for me, letting me fuck you like this in this bar.”
Your mascara is completely ruined, streaked down your face with your lipstick smeared across your chin. You look like a fucking mess and you couldn’t care less. You feel yourself fluttering around him the tighter his grip on you is. His hand slips from your hair, latching around your neck and tugging you into his chest. 
He grips your chin and keeps your eyes on where the two of you are joined in the mirror. It only makes you clench tighter around him, watching as he moves in and out of you. You can see just how much of an effect you're having on him and it’s the biggest ego boost you’ve ever had in your life. 
You’ve reduced him to a mess in a dirty club bathroom, so desperate for you he couldn’t even wait to take you home. He tilts his hips, hitting the spot inside you that has your eyes nearly rolling in the back of your head.
You whisper his name in warning, letting go of the sink to clutch tightly at his wrist. He wraps his arm around your waist, keeping you secured against him. His hips start to stutter, losing some of their rhythm the tighter you are around him. The feeling builds in your fingers, tingles down to the tips of your toes, and explodes in a nearly blinding pleasure. His hips are still against you, warmth filling you a moment later. 
You would slump forward into the sink if it weren’t for his protective hold around your stomach. He keeps you tight against his chest for a minute, waiting for you to catch your bearings again. It takes an embarrassingly long time for the feeling in your legs to come back. You’ve never had such an intense experience like that. 
You don’t know if it's from the thrill of possibly getting caught or just because you were with him. You’ve longed and lusted after Logan for so long, and finally having the real thing is a bit of shock. Especially when he exceeded your fantasies, you didn’t even know that was possible.
He props you against the sink, tugging your dress down and pulling your underwear back up. You watch him with dulled interest, still reeling from what you’ve just done. You’ve never been so bold before, it almost feels liberating to just say ‘fuck it’ and do what you want. 
He pulls his own pants back up, fixing his belt and grabbing a wet paper towel for you. He’s silent as he wipes the mascara of your cheeks and you give him a questioning look. “You want the others to know what happened?”
You scoff and glance away from him, looking towards the door of the bathroom. “I’m sure they already know. Weren’t exactly subtle,” you tell him with a small smile. 
He smirks, tossing the towel away and walking back towards you. He keeps his arms on either side of you, bracketing you against the sink and grinning down at you. “No, we weren’t, were we?”
You shake your head silently, lips curled up in amusement. Your eyes briefly dart to his lips before meeting his eyes once more. He catches the look with a sly smile, dipping his head down and giving you a brief kiss. 
It’s short and sweet, more loving than the passionate, rip-my-clothes-off kisses from before. It feels like the type of kiss a married couple would share in the early morning when they only want to remind the other they love each other. Your proximity and the look he’s giving you feel more intimate than anything that just happened. 
“You really meant it?” You muse, voice barely above a whisper as you smile at him. 
“Meant what?” He mutters. 
“You like me,” you tease, entangling your hand with his and tugging him even closer to you. 
He gives you a confused look, glancing at the sink behind you and then back at your disheveled form. “Did I not make that clear enough, kid?”
You shake your head, “No, I think I might need another reminder,” you tell him. It takes a moment for your words to click for him. You can see when it does, he gives you a small smile and shakes his head with an aggrieved sigh like you’re bugging him. 
“Really making me work for it, huh?” You nod your head playfully, dragging him down towards you and bringing him into another kiss. You can deal with the line forming outside in a minute. You can push off your nosy friends’ questions for another day. Right now, it’s just you and him, finally doing what you’ve wanted since the moment you saw him. 
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end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
General Taglist: @evasmlp ♡ 
Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte 
@mrs-ephemeral @wolviesgirl @allllium @insomniachox @izbelross  ♡
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eccentricallygothic · 4 months ago
Text
Mine.
Description: Embry is secure in your relationship, but you are too perfect for anyone to be able to resist your attractiveness.
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Pairing: Alpha!Embry Call | Omega!Reader. 
Warning(s): Slight insecurity, jealousy, Embry is in LOVE, reader is kind of a dummy, kissing, possessiveness, slight top reader, manhandling, hair pulling, groping, pinching, unprotected p-in-v, smut with plot I am afraid, rubbing/grinding, dick riding, doggy style, missionary, imprinting and a/b/o stuff, breeding kink, dirty talk, d/s dynamics (it's me), overstimulation. MDNI.
Type: Request, here.
. . . 
“Gee, it's hot today” Leah huffs as she approaches Emily's dining table whilst tugging down her tank top with one hand and fanning herself with the other. “Even by my standards.” Some of you are already sitting down and the rest are divided in little groups that tinker about in the pack leader's house. A few groans of agreement sound around the table and you snort, your fingers busy with tuning your guitar. “It's literally like I am on fire” she gulps down the icy lemonade your undisputed hostess has prepared for the lot of you. “Fuck, I am so hot” she pinches the material of her tanktop before tugging it back and forth to try and bring herself some solace. 
You shrug, eyes set on the pegs that you twist and adjust as you lean some of your body weight onto your mate who reclines on his own chair beside you and munches on a hot muffin, unbothered by your doing so. He has told you time and time again that he likes it, actually. “Agreed” you do not notice how the table goes silent and everyone turns to look at you. Even Leah's eyes widen a bit though this is nothing new. You're plagued with the curse of being an effortless flirt. Your mate had his fair share of (pleasant) surprises in the beginning and often even mistook what was a mere response to you for you being bold. “Very hot” your eyes briefly bounce from the machine heads to scan over her tense form and the female in question flushes. 
Paul and Jake howl in the crass way typical to them and the others chuckle. 
“See, you're doing it again!” Seth points an accusatory finger at you and you just snort before you shake your head and look down at your guitar again. 
“No, I am not” it is always an argument between others, especially Seth, and you that you subconsciously flirt. “It's a fact” barks sound around the table once more and you scoff at them, muttering reassurances to yourself that you only meant to compliment her. 
“I mean, you're not so bad yourself, sparkle” you roll your eyes at Jared's lewd smirk and his use of the corny ass nickname the pack has chosen for you. 
Your beautiful fur is so shiny that it sparkles as though it has been dusted with glitter, hence the name.
“Dude” Jake chimes in. “Totally agreed. You're both totally hot” you don't look up to the nods of approval that follow. 
“Like, excuse my French or whatever but,” uh oh, it's never good when Paul starts a sentence like that. He waves both his hands as he tilts his head back, adding heavy moments of suspense to his intentional silence. “I wouldn't say no to a little Leah and sparkle salad” Seth retches as his features scrunch in disgust but most of the other guys howl in agreement and cheer. You feel Embry stiffen beside you but he keeps his composure and hides his disapproval into the soft muffin because he knows Paul well enough to know that this is one of his intentional attempts at eliciting a reaction by being profane. He loves to provoke until it's his turn. 
“Dude!” Seth groans, one hand on his stomach. “Why are you like this?!” His eyes scrunch. “Ugh!” 
“Would be a sight to behold though—” Quill is cut off by Sam.
“Hey!” The Leader calls out across the table in his heavy and authoritative voice when his fiance gently nudges his shoulder to get the horndogs to stop. They are a family, yes, but an Alpha's patience isn't to be toyed with especially if his mate is in question. “That's enough” though it is not nearly as scary as Sam can get since there is a small smile on his own face, everyone still instantly shuts up all the same.
You are not really bothered because you only have eyes for your dear Alpha who has subconsciously snuck an arm around your back to feel you even closer to yourself. You finish up with your guitar and although reluctant, play a couple tunes upon Emily's request and everyone takes turns singing snippets that fit the melodies your fingers produce. 
Hours pass and it is only after dinner that you all set out for your own homes. “So long, hottie~” Embry and you are already a couple feet away from Sam and Emily's house, hand in hand while he carries your guitar for you, when you hear Paul and Jake whistle from behind. 
You snicker but don't look back and instead raise your free hand to wave them goodbye before the two of you take the turn that leads to your own house. 
The two of you walk in the comfortable silence of your dynamic for half of the way, relaxing in each other's presence after a stimulating day as your entwined fingers rock back and forth. It is only when the house appears in your line of sight after another turn and walking past a couple heavy trees when Embry speaks up, pondering and calculating with his words. 
“They're too much.” 
You chuckle and lean into him a little. “Or maybe…” You shrug before glancing at him. “It’s me” a teasing smile tugs at your lips as his eyebrows furrow. 
Ever the loving and supportive mate and lover, Embry rushes to reassure you. “No, no, baby” he lightly shakes his head for emphasis. “All you did was compliment her, angel. It's not you” his fingers tighten over yours in earnest.
“Yeah?” You raise a playful eyebrow, amused. 
“Yeah” he chooses to ignore it because he knows what you're trying to do and since he swears that he is not a territorial jerk, he refuses to give in. He is not ‘like the other Alphas’, if you will. “The guys just…” He carefully chooses his words. “They're—”
“You do know that I am yours, right? No matter what anyone says on purpose or accident, you are the only one I want and you are the only one my heart belongs to” you cradle his hand that you hold to your heart as you ascend the steps to your house. 
Usually, he doesn't even let it come to this. “Yeah…” But he needs it from time to time even if he assures you that he doesn't, granted how you steal the very air from everyone in the most natural of states.
“Yeah?” You stop to stare at him, one eyebrow raised and a hand curled around the door handle but you don't open it just yet, your smile deepening into a smirk.
You can hear his inward groan. “Yes” his red ears tell you everything you need to know. Gosh, you love how he isn't a typical violent, brooding and impulsive Alpha like Paul or some others you know. “Let's just—” you interrupt his weak attempt at reassurance with a kiss. 
You pull back just for a second to look at him. 
“You don't have to do this because of that, you know? It's really fine. It's not your fault the guys are the way they are and I know you don't mean it like that because—” you interrupt his ramblings with a click of your tongue.
You appreciate Embry's understanding nature, but you cannot help the thrill you feel when he gets possessive or insecure over you.
It makes you feel wanted and treasured.  
“You talk too much sometimes, you know?” Your mouth collides into his and your lips melt against his, the fluttering warm feeling making him groan into the kisses that grow heated with the passing second. You peel the guitar off of him as you pull him through the threshold and walk him into the couch while passionately kissing him after kicking the door closed with one heel. You put a heavy hand on his nape to keep him from digressing again. It does not actually do much to affect him but he lets you have your way, a whimper leaving him when you swipe your tongue across his bottom lip.
“I— I—” he blinks to get a grip of himself when you pull away, his heavy pants only firing you up even more because of how worked up he looks and feels. Your omega heat rushes to their confines in different pockets of your body and as the first of your pearly slick trickles down your thigh, you begin to push at his chest and keep at it until his heavy form lands on the couch. “Baby, it's really—” you crawl his huge body and his hands instantly dart to your legs to feel and grope your tender skin. You moan and grind against his erection. 
You can feel he is holding back and that only provokes you even more.
You shush him by ghosting a seductive finger over his lips. His Adam's apple violently bobs at you doing so. “Haven't done that in a while, have I?” Your whisper is the kind of whisper that makes blood rush to his cock and his hips lift to find relief against yours. “So allow me…” You lower yourself until your lips touch the area under his nose and you give him a chaste kiss before moving down to his pink lips. Embry whimpers out a growl and his fingers flex over your thighs before snaking their way to your ass. Your lips leave sloppy kisses along his jaw and you soon reach his ear to let out a sensual little breath that always churns all his gears. “To remind you” he inaudibly curses as his erection twitches against your spread core and he squeezes your ass tightly. 
“Y- You don't have to…” He looks for ways to reason with you but you take it away by nipping at his earlobe before trapping it between your lips and pulling a good suck out of it. You hum as your slick further gushes down your inner thighs and you feel it pool between your spread legs. 
He may not be an Alpha who loses his head to insecurity but the rare occasion he does or is made to by you is always so fun.
“Oh, but I want to, babe” you say and he lets out a moan at the purr that comes out of your throat. You straddle his waist, your legs spread over him and your dripping core rubbing over his shorts. He firmly holds you against him and rocks against you to match your slow pace. You moan into his mouth as you kiss him and pull at the hem of his tank top. Your fingers curl around it and you pull the thin material off of his beautifully tan and sculpted body, letting it fall somewhere behind him. The two of you gasp and pant into your fevered kisses as you press your bodies against each other's to feel even closer. The heat sizzles out of his slightly damp skin due to how his blood boils and the way in which the bare skin sticks to yours makes you shudder and moan into his mouth that he fills with his tongue. 
“Mmmm” your mouth deviates to his neck and you leave a trail of kisses and bites down to his collarbone and over his pectorals. His hands scramble to feel every inch of your exposed back and you whimper, rocking your hips as you drag your tongue along his chest and Embry growls loudly. 
His resolve is weakening. 
Good.
Your tongue continues to paint wet trails over Embry's torso while enjoying his woody sweat and he shivers when your mouth ghosts over his nubs and you peck them just slightly. He swears he doesn't like that kinda stuff but the erection doesn't lie. You cannot resist the impulse to bite his Adam's Apple next and you hear him hiss out a groan, his whole body tightening under yours, in sync with his needy cock. You feel his fingers dig into your spine as though he wants to pull you completely open for himself and you moan into the suck you have clamped on his neck. It gets increasingly hurried. It is messy. It is hot. And you are going to leave your mark on him for he is just as much yours as you are his. 
The two of you seem drunk on one another's scent and pheromones, your bodies in a desperate need to devour one another's. 
Your hand cups the tent in his shorts and you rub and massage it through the fabric. “Gosh, I love you so much” Embry huffs out a groan as he looks at you with eyes heavy with both arousal and affection. “You're so fuckin’ hot, baby” tingles flutter all over your abdomen and your lips part from how the grinding of your cunt feels against his rigid member. “So perfect.”
You smile mischievously as you push back on your heels and slide his shorts down his toned legs that he aids with a life of his hips. A loud smack sounds in the air because of the way cock springs up, hard and glistening with precum and collides with the taut muscles of his belly and your mouth waters at the way it twitches, your nose tingles because you can smell his arousal all the way from where you are and your petals flutter when fresh, pearly slick bubbles out of the tip. 
But you are not quite done yet. 
Embry's hand reaches to stroke himself but you click your tongue as if he is a misbehaving child and gently nudge it away with your own. As an Omega, you don't usually get like this despite everyone pining over you and your mate doting on you all the time and the Alpha's surprised gaze signals that he is equal parts taken aback and turned on with the knowledge that you are a small little thing compared to him, completely dependent upon his mercy if it comes to it, but his bestowing of a free hand upon you allows you to act liberally and even then you choose to serve him.
“Not so fast” your words are an entrancing lull. Embry huffs but keeps his hand away from his aching cock and you begin to sensually undress yourself. You are not a professional or anything so you don't have that kind of edge to it, but your heat tends to make the art of seduction a very effortless second nature matter to you. The Alpha growls and needily reaches for you instead this time around, his fingers kneading the soft skin of your hips as he begins to help you by pulling at your clothes. The primal action of his nature makes you yelp with a gasp at first but it melts into quiet giggles and then whimper-moans soon enough. Your tank top comes off first and his eyes take their sweet time enjoying your chest as you heave for him in response to his touch, your nipples pebbling because of how sensitive your body is. Embry looks at them hungrily and he swallows audibly, his heavy, wanton breaths weighing down his urge to wrap his mouth around them. Since he can't act on that impulse, his fingers hurriedly help you rid yourself of your pants and they pool around your ankles before you kick them away. 
You smirk to yourself as you see the glazed look on his face, his cock twitching on his belly as his heavy chest heaves with want. The Alpha's dark eyes trace the curves of your hips and follow the shape of your waist until he finds your dripping cunt that shines with slick. 
“Fuck” Embry groans and his hips jerk in sync with his twitching erection. “Fuck, baby” he looks like he is going to come just by looking at you.
Which means he is getting desperate.
Good. 
“Tsk” letting out an amused snort, you place your smaller hands against his broad shoulders to push them back as his huge form is looming in your direction and as he moves back, you move forwards until you have climbed him and the undersides of your thighs are straddling his laps, your feet on either side of him and knees bending to get as close to him as possible. You let your weight go because Embry's strong legs supporting it has never been an issue. As a matter of fact, he has confessed time and time again that he rather likes how you press down on him like his good little Omega baby. 
“Mmm” your teeth clamp down on your lower lip as you begin to rub your soaked and thumping folds all over his erection and the way his eyes widen in shock and pleasure as your wet cunt glides over his cock only makes you grind harder in anticipation of what would come next. 
“You like that, baby?” He is still an Alpha, he needs to assert himself somehow so his wolf can remain assured of its ownership and power over you.
“Mmm, Alpha, you're so good!” It only takes a few grinds and you're cumming, your walls clenching and your slick dripping onto his belly and thighs. “Fuck” you moan out a curse of your own though you know he doesn't like you using that kind of language when he is in his Alpha space, your cunt pulsates with the aftershocks of your orgasm. You sit on his thighs and lean back on your hands as you catch your breath, eyebrows furrowed and little whines leaving you from his dick slightly grazing against your petals and twitching. Your heat completely takes over at that point and your body becomes a living inferno.
You aren't like most people or Omegas. Your body reaches its optimum only after you have cum once. Because you love to chase and be made to find your release through the stinging thumps and frustration of overstimulation.
You feel Embry's cock squish against your slick drenched thigh and you look down at it. His growing knot is so big that it seems to rest over your tender lap like a dangerous serpent. “Baby” his hands trace along your hips and your waist, his thumbs tracing your sides. “Can I?” 
He is cracking. 
And though your nature grows the haze of submissiveness in your mind, you only rock your ass harder on his girth.
You can't say anything but just stare down at him like you are entranced, a primal silence engulfing you where it is only instinct and nothing else. Your heart pounds in your ears. It's like a thousand thoughts bolt around in your brain all at once and yet your mind holds onto each one for eternities. Need pulls at your limbs from every direction. 
“I need to feel you, baby” he pleads and you just wordlessly nod, one hand flying to clutch his shoulder tightly. Embry's eyes light up, his hands instantly lifting your ass and sliding your cunt down the length of his cock.
Just to make you cry out, he jerks his cock into you with a jab of his hips, the sensation making him let out a groan and you a mewl, the omega in you shuddering from the sensitivity and yet obediently taking him. Your walls flutter as you feel yourself stretch to fit his girth and you look down to see how your flesh takes him. His cock fills you to the brim and you are filled with an indescribable sensation of fullness that only Embry can give you, the velvet of your insides stirring against his hard girth. 
In mere moments, you're so full that you can't decide whether it is good or painful. Perhaps both. Your core is so wet that you can feel his cock drown in your slick because of the sloshing sounds your riding it -which is essentially Embry carefully moving you about it because his cock is not a joke to accommodate- makes. When you are comfortable, you begin to speed up your movements with the passing second, your ears and heart pounding with nearly unbearable fireballs running wild in your blood. 
“Gosh” Embry pants and a gasp leaves him when you slide down a certain way and knock the breath right out of him, your ass bouncing against his heavy sack and the visual of your boobs jumping doesn't help him. You know you must be a sight to look at. Your knees rock into his toned thighs and you clutch his hard shoulders, panting like a crazed animal as you wince from the painful pleasure. It wouldn't be the first time that you transformed mid fuck because it was too much for you to handle. “Look at you” he groans out raspily, his throat parched. “So fucking beautiful, angel” his long fingers grip your ass to keep you on the rhythm even if your Omega sensitivity makes you falter because some thrusts often get too much for you and your form lops to the side. His hands run all over your hips, your stomach, your breasts and the back of your head, his trimmed nails feeling your delicate nape before they reach to tangle in your locks and your scalp stings from the gentle tug.  
Your body is afloat on pheromone and sensation alike, your skin melts into Embry's golden touch that desperately feels every inch of your body. His grips on you turn harsher when your walls pulsate around him and the way he pulls you to him makes your entrance seethe out bubbling pearly slick down his cock, the angel puddle pooling down on his balls. Every movement sends sparks of pleasure through your core and up your spine. 
“Alpha!” Your teeth sink into your tongue because of how you tense in response to his fingers cupping your mound before his rough thumb tickles your clit. Your droopy eyes fly open as you let yourself feel every inch of him and every flicker of pleasure that your body sends to your brain. “Oh my Goshhh” you whimper out his name as you cum once more, the muscles of your thighs convulsing from the tightly shut dam that trembles free in your loins. Your cunt clamps around his cock and you feel him groan out at the feeling of his own high approaching.
His resolve finally snaps at the feeling of your hot orgasm and he lets out a growl so loud it nearly shakes the walls of the house. Your fucked out brain is too dazed to catch up with how he spins you around on his cock and moves the two of you so you're kneeling in front of the living room coffee table. Your elbows find the tabletop and his hands hook under your hips. He presses his cock into you and pulls your ass back and up so that his cock buries itself to the hilt in your dripping pussy. You feel it push against the swollen, reluctant walls of your cunt and a scream rips from your lips at the sensation. 
Embry pulls out and slams himself back in with a loud slap of skin against skin. His hand comes down on your ass cheek with a loud slap that makes you cry out, your cunt tries to close itself against him.
“Yes, Alpha!” Yet you mewl, wanting more. “Gimme your cum, please!” You tilt your head to look back at him with hazy eyes to urge him on with a lustful widening of your mouth and he stares back with his darkened and blown out eyes.
You are a mess of pure wanton. 
The Alpha lets out a hoarse groan as he watches the way you take his cock. “Fucking hell, baby” he pants. “You little tease” his hips jerk against yours and your breasts bounce over your arms as he fucks into your cunt. Your insides stiffen around his girth in a way that makes your head spin upon his tip fighting its way closer and closer to your cervix and you cannot help but let out a series of frenzied whimper-moans.
“Don't do it on purpose, do you?” His voice is primal and dangerous. “Is that why you provoke me into claiming you after? Huh, you little brat?!” He scolds and starts to firmly jack hammer his cock into your pussy, on the verge of his own climax and so fast that you almost feel like you're on the edge of passing out from the sensory overload.
It doesn't matter if his words are true or not. 
They always get the both of you off.
And when an Alpha and Omega are left to their devices, the sex is the only thing that has to make sense.
And that it does.
So much.
“You're going to milk me dry, my little Omega slut” Embry pants out a guttural order and you moan at how he snakes a ripped arm to the front of your body and slams you back into his toned chest. Your head falls back on his shoulder and you faintly register his fingers feeling up the expanse of your neck. He pounds into you so hard it feels as though he is hitting your uterus with every snap of his hips, your smaller body bouncing on his cock like a straw doll with each thrust. His whole cock sheaths balls deep into your tight slick coated walls before he pulls out all the way until his tip is barely probing you. Your slick drips from where you two are connected down to the both of your thighs and knees. He grabs your hair and tilts your head until your body arches in the way he likes and your nipples point up at the ceiling from the wave of excitement and arousal that an imaginative construction of the visual of your bodies washes over you. “You're mine, you hear me?” He snarls as your marked mating gland comes to light and he wraps your hair around his fingers to keep it out of his way. Embry's mouth clamps down onto the canine scarred patch and he suckles at it like a starved predator, his sharp teeth fitting right into the crevices they created once upon a time ago. Your whole body jolts from the impact and you clench. 
Fuck, it feels good.
“Ohhh—” your body curves outwards and you cry out in ecstacy. “Yes! Yours!” You moan out with a throaty voice. “Only yours, Alpha!” you tremble and send vibrations down his cock as a result, the sensation making him growl into your mating gland and lighting you up all over again. 
“I'm going to fill you up with my cum until your pretty little pussy it so stuffed it can't take or feel anymore” he growls while trapping your waist between his arms, the confinement causing your insides to feel his cock even more vividly and you cannot help but scream for mercy as he bends the both of you over the tabletop to fuck you into the piece of furniture, roughly pushing one of your legs up so it hangs over the edge closest to you and thus giving him even deeper access against your cervix. 
But that's the best thing about having the anatomy of an Omega, it doesn't hurt when he fucks into your womb. Matter of fact, your kind is made to take cocks like that without any kind of damage. And it feels fucking amazing. 
Your brain cannot think anymore. All you can do is feel as your eyes flutter close from the dignity numbing fuck.
Your mind is completely taken over by him as he bruises up your claim mark. It has a feeling of its own. When he gets to toying with it, he doesn't have to tickle your clit anymore because his touching your mating gland elicits such sensations in your body that they heat your clit up as if it's being rubbed silly with a tangible object though it's actually not.  
Embry does not relent until he has cum inside of you a number of times, your head being too fucked out and fuzzy to keep track. His hot seed fills you up so much that it spills out of you true to his promise. You are completely drained when he finishes with you and you hang from the table limply, his cock still pulsing inside of your exhausted cunt. You think it's over and so you begin to dimly yearn for the warmth of the bath he will run you now.
Well.
Jokes on poor little you.
“What?” He chuckles as he turns you on his fat knot once more so you face him, his fingers grabbing a handful of your slick and cum covered ass once more. “Done already, are we?” You numbly blink up at him, brain out of commission.
“H- Huh?” You blink to try and clear your neon vision, trembling hands blindly tapping about for him when he patiently waits for you to respond. 
He chuckles and effortlessly lifts you off the table, his knot swollen between your walls in a bittersweet tuck.
“Up we go, baby” you feel his hands run up your thighs and your back before he walks towards the bedroom while holding you in his arms and on his cock. You moan as his dick rubs against your walls because of the movement, your pussy dripping your mixed juices all over the place. Each step makes his cock stir your stinging insides.
“Shit” Embry curses under his breath at the sight of your shivering body. “Your cunt is still so wet and tight, baby” his fingers slip away from your ass as he plops you down on the bed and his cock slips out of your cunt, the empty feeling of loss making you whine despite the overstimulation. “So pretty and raw pink too” he lets out a chuckle, dark eyes watching you while his long fingers caress his cock. It's his turn to tease now. Your cum oozes out of you in a stream and coats the mattress in a pearlescent puddle as you cannot do much but lay there panting like a bitch in heat -which you are-, your legs dangling from the edge of the bed, teeth nibbling at your bottom lip in anticipation. 
“Maybe children will finally wise you up, huh baby?” He says as he turns to get you some water from the bedside table. “And just maybe, you won't ‘unintentionally’ flirt like a clumsy little Omega baby then” realization hits you like a gong.
He is only replenishing you for…
Though you whimper and pout up at him, too submissive to complain, you feel tiny flames of excitement come to life within you once more. 
Fuck. 
You are obedient in how he pushes you further up on the bed so he can crawl over you like the predator he is. And he spreads your legs open to make you completely and comfortably accessible to himself because you got a long night to go. Embry needs to make you marked and loud enough for everyone to see tomorrow and hear tonight just who you belong to. 
Next his manly hands move your ankles to his shoulders and he pats your petals with his heavy tip to make your fleshy folds shrivel and tremble in the way he likes, the thumping bringing them back into commissioner. Soon after, his cock sinks into you once more and he takes a hold of your sticky thighs so he can do you how he likes best. He slowly begins to fuck into you and his coarse hands squeeze your breasts and his fingers twist your nipples to ‘milk’ you for his future pups, or so he tells you. Your toes curl and your eyes roll to the back of your head at the thought.
The wolf is out.
And he is here to play.
. . .
Fun fact, the Leah thing happened irl where I accidentally said that to one of my female teachers lmfao.
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tongue-like-a-razor · 1 year ago
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Brother's Best Friend - Part 11
Jake Seresin x F!Reader
A/N: Fair warning: I didn't have much time this week so this was a bit rushed and definitely not my best piece of work, but I really wanted to do at least *something* for the holidays!
Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.
CW: New Years Eve party, banter, fluff fluff fluff
WC: ~2300
Part 1 | Masterlist
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“So,” Bradley starts slowly, drawing out a suspenseful silence with a smirk as he butters his toast. “I met study group guy.”
You look up from your plate in alarm, your fork halfway to your mouth, and awkwardly meet your brother’s gaze.
Jake, who’s just set his food down to your left, picks his coffee back up, ready to make a quick exit.
“Uh, where?” you ask, trying to sound casual, but you’re so nervous that your voice wavers.
“Here,” Bradley replies with a grin as he makes his way to the table. “He came by to see how your exam went.”
“Oh?” You gulp anxiously.
“How considerate of him,” Jake notes moodily, setting his coffee back down and giving you a look.
“I agree.” Bradley sits down. “I think he wanted to compare study strategies,” he continues, then clears his throat. “Since the two of you didn’t end up studying together.”
Jake’s eyes go wide as he lets out a feigned gasp. “You didn’t?”
You give Jake an annoyed look and then glance back at your brother who is watching you with a pair of raised eyebrows. “Yeah,” you nod, “about that. Umm, the thing is…”
“You lied?” Jake brings a hand to his chest as though this revelation continues to shock him.
You glare at him irritably. “Partly.”
“Which part?” Bradley enquires, biting into his toast.
You sigh. “The part about study group guy.”
Bradley grimaces. “Why?”
“Yeah,” Jake chimes in, finally taking a seat. “Why?”
“Because I obviously made the wrong decision studying at home,” you retort, eyeing Jake bitterly. “And I just needed somebody to blame.”
Jake watches you cautiously, likely wondering if you indeed think you’ve made a mistake. Good.
“So, you bombed your midterm, big deal.” Bradley waves a hand. “We wouldn’t judge you. Guess that means he won’t be attending tonight’s party.”
You purse your lips. “Nope,” you confirm. “I’ll be all alone.”
Jake tries to catch your gaze as you rise from the table. “We’ll be here.”
“Aren’t you gonna bring your girl?” Bradley asks.
“Nah.” Jake waves a hand.
“Why not?”
Jake eyes you pointedly. “Not really sure where we stand, to be honest.”
You gasp theatrically. “Oh dear! Trouble in paradise?”
Jake throws you a flat look and grumbles, “Well, she’s sort of hard to read at times.”
“Because you’re illiterate?” you retort.
Bradley snorts while Jake scoffs in offence. “Dump her!” Bradley cries as you bring your dishes to the sink. “Life’s too short for mysteries.”
Jake sighs. “She does love to keep me guessing.”
Bradley shakes his head in disapproval after taking his last bite. “She’s playing games with you, man. It’s not worth it.” He gets up and follows you to the sink. “How ‘bout you? You need a date for tonight?”
“Huh?” you say in surprise, having been under the impression that your turn under the microscope was over.
“Remember that dude you met at the Hard Deck last summer? The one you said was ‘so hot’” – Bradley visibly shudders – “I just found out that he’s into you.”
“What dude?” Jake asks abruptly, his posture instantly going rigid.
“The one from 22,” Bradley clarifies. “The backseater. Forgot his name.”
“The douche from Michigan?” Jake makes a face and quickly rises from the table. “You think he’s hot?” he asks you incredulously.
Before you have a chance to respond, Bradley continues. “Apparently he ran into you last week at the café?”
You blink between Bradley and Jake as the latter approaches. While it’s true that you saw one of Bradley’s colleagues the previous week, you’ve since forgotten all about that encounter, because the very next day was when Jake had finally made his move. You start to back out of the kitchen but both Bradley and Jake follow you out. “I have some errands to run,” you say quickly.
“Nothing’s open,” Jake reminds you.
“Do you want me to invite him tonight or not?” Bradley asks, already scrolling through his contacts.
Jake elbows Bradley aggressively. “You’re seriously trying to get your sister laid?”
Bradley cringes. “Dude! Don’t go there!”
Jake stares at Bradley. “What do you think is gonna happen?”
You scoff at Jake incredulously. “Excuse me?”
Jake turns to look at you and places his hands on his hips with an impatient exhale. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I just don’t want her to be alone on New Years!” Bradley exclaims, still looking down at his phone.
“She’s not gonna be!” Jake cries desperately.
“I don’t want the date, Bradley,” you say, putting on your shoes despite having absolutely nowhere to go.
“Why not?” Bradley enquires.
“I just don’t. I’m fine with being alone.”
“You won’t be alone,” Jake repeats, the frustration in his voice noticeably mounting.
“I thought you liked him,” Bradley says, slightly deflated. Clearly, he assumed that he was doing you a favor.
“I don’t even know him,” you say. “I just thought he was good-looking, that’s all.”
Jake makes a face. “He’s not.”
You roll your eyes. “Appearance is subjective.”
Jake stubbornly shakes his head but makes no further comment.
“Okay, so why not give him a chance?” Bradley presses. “It’s not like you’re seeing someone. Right?”
You give Jake a quick glance before conducting a thorough examination of your own shoes. “Well, kind of.”
“Kind of?” Jake asks, slightly panicked.
You continue studying your feet. “I think.”
“Who is he? What’s he like?” Bradley asks.
“Uh,” you stall, “he’s alright.”
Jake lets out a muffled cry. “Alright?” he asks and you try not to wince at his utterly obvious outrage.
Meanwhile, Bradley raises an eyebrow. “Wow,” he says wryly. “Sounds promising.”
“What else?” Jake says quickly.
You look up at him in disbelief. “Occasionally aggravating.”
Bradley appears puzzled. “Why are you with this guy?”
Jake squares his shoulders. “He must be extremely handsome.”
Bradley looks back at you. “Is he?”
You roll your eyes. “He’s cute.”
“Cute?!” Jake exclaims.
Bradley laughs. “I really think you should give my guy a try.”
Jake crosses his arms over his chest and stands up taller. “I’m sure there’s more to this guy than just… his looks.” He’s blatantly searching your face now, as if Bradley isn’t even present.
You start to nervously fix your hair in the mirror at the front door. “I’m not interested in your guy, Bradley.”
“Why not?”
“Because…” You sigh resignedly while Jake watches your reflection. “I… I like my guy.”
Jake stares at your face in the mirror as if this is news to him. Then, his mouth slips momentarily into a smile before he sucks in his cheeks to hide it.
Bradley grimaces. “Why?”
“Because, he’s…” another reluctant sigh, “…he’s a good guy.”
“That’s kind of vague,” Jake comments, still trying to suppress a grin.
You shoot him a glare while Bradley chuckles. Then, he says, “Alright, fine. Maybe in a couple of weeks when you’re single again.”
Jake looks at Bradley sharply. “Why would she be single again?”
“Come on, when was the last time my sister liked a guy enough to stay with him long-term? She finds something wrong with everyone she dates.”
Jake shifts his weight uncomfortably. “Maybe this one will stick.”
“Doubt it.” Bradley shrugs.
“This one’s different, Bradley,” you say quietly, turning to face them again.
Jake looks back at you. “He is?”
“How so?” Bradley asks.
You pause, hesitant to reveal the truth. “He… makes me feel…”
Bradley watches you dubiously. “Pretty?”
Jake also takes a stab: “Aroused?”
You let out a weary sigh and lock eyes with Jake. “Safe.”
He stares at you with a stunned expression while Bradley nods approvingly.
“Happy,” you continue.
This time, Jake doesn’t hide his smile, but Bradley raises his eyebrows as though your response has surprised him.
“Strong,” you say.
“Wow,” Bradley mutters.
Jake lowers his gaze with a grin, but you decide to add, “And aroused, I mean –”
“Oh god!” Bradley exclaims.
Jake chuckles, glancing up at you again.
Bradley shakes his head. “I get it, you’re in love. But, Seresin – I just remembered: I’ve got the perfect girl for you!” He holds up his phone, beaming.
Bradley decides to invite the perfect girl just in case because he can see how much his dear friend has suffered at the hands of his mysterious lover. And the perfect girl just happens to be Jake Seresin’s exact type. You try to ignore her flirtatious behavior while Bradley all but pushes Jake in her direction. Your brother seems so keen to set Jake up, you start to wonder what his vested interest might be.
There are enough people in attendance that you can watch Jake without worrying about anyone noticing that you’re staring. So, you pour yourself a fourth martini and head back into the living room to see what your brother’s best friend is up to. You barely make it past the couch, however, when someone you’ve only met once in your life takes your hand and starts encouraging you to spin under his arm.
You glance over at Jake, whose date is also trying to get him to dance. Taking a sizeable gulp of your drink, you follow through with the spin and smile uncomfortably at your new dance partner. The room is bustling because the ball is about to drop and everyone has gathered for the countdown, so you’re forced to crane your neck every so often in order to check on Jake.
He notices your new friend right away, locking eyes with you despite his own supposed date trying to monopolize his attention. You wish you could steal a moment with him when the new year arrives, but Bradley would notice his friend’s absence in a heartbeat considering he’s been tailing Jake all night, making sure that he was having a good time.
When the champagne flutes start making their rounds and the crowd erupts in an enthusiastic countdown, however, Jake separates from his friends and starts making his way through the bodies toward you. He nods his head in the direction of the hall before he’s even come near you, inviting you to join him. But you glance back at Bradley and see that he is already searching for Jake in the crowd that’s suddenly doubled in size as everyone has made their way into the living room.
You shake your head at Jake regrettably. The last thing you need is for the year to start with Bradley walking in on the two of you making out.
Jake gestures more vigorously with his head, urging you to follow and, when you refuse, he moves closer and reaches out to grab your hand. You don’t resist when he pulls you in and, before you can check to see if Bradley has finally given up his search, the clock strikes midnight, and Jake takes your face in his hands and kisses you right there in the middle of the living room amidst the explosion of cheers that welcome the new year.
You hope there is enough commotion in your vicinity to obscure the way Jake’s hands slide sensually down to your neck and then take your shoulders as he steers you through the crowd out of the room, his lips avidly devouring yours the entire time. Somehow, the two of you make it out without even looking up and, once you’re more or less alone, Jake mutters, “Your brother is getting real fucking annoying.”
You chuckle as he plants kisses along your jawline. The two of you are still moving through the house, into the darkness of the entry hall. “He’s been extra involved today,” you agree.
“He’s been fucking annoying,” Jake repeats, sucking on the side of your neck as you come to a halt in the foyer and he wraps his arms around you.
“He’s your best friend,” you remind him.
Jake presses you gently against the front door and licks your earlobe, whispering, “Who the fuck were you dancing with?” You giggle and feel his lips spread into a smile against your skin. “Oh, you think that’s funny?” he asks, and you feel his tongue on your ear again. “You think it’s funny that I had to actively restrain myself from socking him?”
“What about you?” you say, still laughing. “You were with that girl all night!”
Jake whimpers into your neck and his hold on you tightens. “All I wanted was this.” You close your eyes when his mouth finds yours once more. “My new year’s resolution is that I’m never gonna stop kissing you,” he mutters between pecks to your lips.
You giggle again and then sigh, slightly pushing him away. “What are we going to do?”
“I just told you what I’m going to do,” he says, going in for another kiss.
You turn your head and he ends up kissing your cheek. “This is how we’re going to spend the new year? Sneaking around? Hiding in dark corners?”
Jake exhales slowly, resting his forehead on your temple. “I’m going to tell him,” he assures you.
“What are you going to tell him?” you ask, hoping that this question might lead Jake to reveal the nature of your relationship as he sees it.
He leans away from you and looks you in the eye. “That I make you feel aroused, of course.” Your jaw drops in outrage and you let out a yelp that quickly turns into a cackle. Jake is grinning widely, pleased with the effectiveness of his joke. Then, he draws you closer and his face changes shape. He squares his jaw and you see the evidence of a nervous gulp in the bob of his Adam’s apple. “I’m gonna tell him that you’re the girl I told him about,” he says, his tone low but steady. You gaze at him in silence, afraid to move a muscle lest he reconsider the sudden sincerity of his words. “The one I can’t stop talking about.” He swallows again. “The one I’ve been obsessing over.” He pauses to study your reaction as though he’s afraid he might be scaring you off. “The one that I – uh” – he takes a deep breath and then lets out a chuckle, shaking his head. He takes your hands in his and weaves his fingers through yours, tugging you forward until his lips connect with the tip of your nose. “Oh god, Baby B,” he says, leaning into you affectionately. “I should probably stop talking now.”
*That's all folks! Happy New Year!*
Read Part 12
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princessbrunette · 6 months ago
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you knew you shouldn’t be doing this. it was embarrassing. you were like a drunk cat mewling on toxicex!johnb’s patio instead of going home and dealing with your feelings like a big girl.
you’d been on a date. kind of. well not really — he stood you up. you were all dressed up too, ready to rub it all in john b’s face that you were moving on. you’d planned it to a T — snap a little picture for your story that would make it clear you’re on a date, or maybe subtly bring it up in conversation next time you saw your ex. all that scheming and plotting, just to end up in tears on his patio.
you were actually planning on leaving. you thought maybe coming to the chateau would ground you enough to remind you of why you were broken up in the first place. however, you’d let one pathetic mewl out just a bit too loudly and out came john b, staring in confusion at you perched on his patio with your head in your hands. he clears his throat.
“hey. uh… you can’t be out here… okay? skeeters.” you think he’s going to shoo you away, give you something else to cry about — but as he speaks you feel his coarse hand wrap around your arm, gently hauling you to your feet. “c’mon. inside. there ya go.” he purses his lips, following you in before walking past you.
“so what’s it gonna be today? hm?” he deadpans in the warm, croony voice that would usually make you wanna melt right into his arms.
having gotten yourself into quite the state, you violently wipe your snot and tears away with the back of your wrist, shaking your head as you suck in a wobbly breath. “i can’t!” is all you manage to squeak out and he sighs.
“look, i wanna help you, because crazily enough i do still very much care about you — but i can’t help you if you don’t tell me. not a mind reader.” he shrugs, hoping the casual attitude would coax it out of you as he wanders over to the kitchen to fetch you a glass of water. you follow him like a lost puppy, and when the glass is full he holds it to your lips. the physical contact calms you enough to behave in a more subdued manner.
“i got stood up.” you croak, defeated. john b places the glass down on the side before staring at you for a moment.
“is that it?”
“what do you mean is that it— it hurt my feelings, god you’re such a jerk john b—” this only inspired a fresh batch of tears as you turn away, heading to leave but he stops you — hands on your shoulders, resisting an eye roll.
“i was literally just asking. take a breath. let’s go and sit down and talk about it.”
for whatever reason, you end up beside him on his bed. you truly couldn’t believe yourself, one little thing goes wrong and you’re immediately off to go and snitch to your ex boyfriend.
“can i ask… why you came here? like… did you want me to beat this guy up or—”
“—no—”
“‘cause look, sure he’s a douchebag but he could have his reasons you know? i don’t know if i wanna —”
“thats not why i’m here!” you silence him, visibly upset and he quietens— leaning back against the headboard in silence as he waits for an explanation. “i was gonna leave.” you speak after a pause, fiddling with the familiar bed sheets you’d seen one too many times. “i guess i just… i needed to ground myself. this is a familiar place. i just wanted the comfort for a moment and then i was gonna go home.”
“the chateau is like,” he holds out a hand in gesture. “way… way out of your way home. so… that can’t be why. just saying.”
you don’t know what to say. you truly don’t, so you choose to stay silent, glancing up at him through your lashes all pouty and sorry for yourself. he tilts his head to the side, eyes softening.
“you wanted me to fuck you about it. didn’t you?” he rasps just as softly, but the question makes your heartrate spike.
“what?”
he presses his lips together, shaking his head in disapproval of the whole situation. “so you came here… after you got stood up, dressed all cute, just to sit on my patio? ‘that what this is?”
“well— i don’t know—”
“you wanted me to fuck you and make it better. no, it is — okay, that’s what you always want.” he fixes the cap on his head before holding his hands up in defence, avoiding your eyes as he literally argues with himself. “look— we talked about this. it just can’t happen anymore. it’s not good for you, and it’s not good for me, and i can promise it’s not gonna fix any of your wounds.”
“okay! that’s fine! i never said i wanted you to fuck me, john b. just came up with that yourself!” you huff, crossing your arms sulkily.
“good!” he shakes his head, eyes wide and brows raised as he stares at you. you hold his gaze for a moment before staring at your own hands again. so what did you want?
you feel john b soften, a gentle sigh leaving him as he continues to gaze at you. a minute or so passes of this pensive silence before he speaks. “come here.” its kind, warm, like he used to be and he opens his arms to you sympathetically. you don’t miss the opportunity to hug him, bask in his heat and comfort. he was just being there for you, comforting you after you got stood up after all.
you sit like that for a moment, his arms around you — and when he pulls back, he looks at you different. you stare back, and soon — you’re kissing.
a kiss turns to tongues rolling over eachother languidly soon enough, and like clockwork — you feel him tug at the waistband of your skirt.
“take this off, yeah?” he mutters against your lips, and though you know you should walk away, you simply don’t have the strength.
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pandapetals · 3 months ago
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Shits and Giggles
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You and Logan get drunk together and get caught by Xavier.
professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - married couple, cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair
read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here
divider credit: @enchanthings
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“I’ve lost count of how many I’ve had,” you giggled, waving the half-empty beer bottle in your hand like it was some kind of trophy. The world felt a little off-kilter, the living room spinning just slightly as you leaned against Logan on the couch.
Logan, slouched back with his legs stretched out and another empty bottle at his feet, glanced over at you, his lips curling into a lopsided grin. “Sweetheart,” he slurred, his words tinged with a hiccup, “I think we both gave up on countin' somewhere between… hell, I don’t even know.”
You snorted, dissolving into another fit of laughter that made your shoulders shake. “Between 'hell' and 'I don’t even know,'” you echoed, the absurdity of it striking you as the funniest thing in the world. “That’s gotta be at least… five?”
Logan chuckled, shaking his head as he reached for another bottle on the coffee table, nearly knocking over a half-eaten bowl of pretzels in the process. “Five? Try ten,” he shot back, popping the cap off with a quick twist of his wrist. “You’re lightweight compared to me.” He took a swig, then glanced sideways at you, a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “Remember when you tried to out-drink me that one time?”
You burst into laughter again, nearly spilling your drink. “Oh my God, yes! I thought I could handle whiskey,” you said, still giggling as you shook your head. “And then I ended up singing 'Bohemian Rhapsody' on the pool table.”
Logan snorted, his deep laugh rumbling in his chest. “Yeah, you were ‘Galileo’-ing so hard, I thought you were gonna fall off.” He pointed at you with the neck of his beer bottle, his grin widening. “I’ve never seen anyone get that passionate about Freddie Mercury.”
“Well,” you said, trying to compose yourself but failing as another hiccup escaped, “Freddie Mercury is worth the passion.”
You both dissolved into another round of laughter, so loud that the quiet mansion seemed to echo with it, the kind of laughter that left your sides hurting and tears forming at the corners of your eyes. It felt like the whole world had shrunk down to just the two of you—your private little universe of bad jokes and too many drinks.
Logan wiped a tear from the corner of his eye, still chuckling. “We gotta be the loudest drunks in history,” he murmured, his voice low and amused. “Pretty sure we just woke up half the neighborhood.”
“Hey, it’s not our fault the living room has such good acoustics,” you said, hiccuping again, then letting out a laugh that quickly turned into a snort. “Plus, if the mansion was really soundproof like Xavier claims, we’d be fine.”
As if on cue, Xavier wheeled in, looking every bit the stern headmaster despite the lateness of the hour. His brows were raised in a mixture of amusement and disapproval. “And what, may I ask, is the cause of all this ruckus?” he said, his voice calm but carrying that unmistakable tone of authority.
You clapped a hand over your mouth, trying—and failing—to stifle your laughter. “Professor!” you said, eyes wide as you tried to sit up straighter. “Uh, we were just… um…”
“Studying the effects of… alcohol on… something,” Logan added, attempting to sound serious but breaking into a grin halfway through the sentence. “Purely scientific. For… education.”
Xavier sighed, shaking his head as he looked between the two of you. “At this hour? In the middle of the living room?” His lips quirked slightly like he was fighting the urge to smile. “You do realize there are other people in this mansion who require sleep?”
You bit your lip, trying to look contrite but still giggling. “Sorry, Professor,” you said, though your voice wobbled with barely contained laughter. “We’ll keep it down. Pinky promise.” You held up your little finger as if to seal the deal.
Logan glanced at you, then back at Xavier, and without missing a beat, extended his own pinky in a solemn gesture. “Swear on it,” he said, the grin still tugging at his lips.
Xavier shook his head again, a hint of a smile breaking through his stern expression. “I suppose I’ll let it slide this time,” he said, turning his chair toward the door. “But if I hear another rendition of 'Bohemian Rhapsody,' you’ll be on kitchen duty for the rest of the month.”
As soon as he left the room, you and Logan exchanged a look before breaking into laughter all over again, doubling over as you clinked your bottles together. “Kitchen duty,” you gasped, wiping tears from your eyes. “I can’t even make toast without setting off the smoke alarm.”
Logan’s deep laughter echoed through the room once more as he reached over to pull you closer, his arm slipping around your shoulders. “Guess that’s one more reason to behave,” he said, his voice still rough with amusement. “But I gotta admit, darlin’, there’s nobody I’d rather get scolded with.”
You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder as the laughter finally started to die down, leaving a warm, fuzzy contentment in its wake. “Likewise,” you murmured, your voice softened by the alcohol and the comfort of his warmth. “We really are a bad influence on each other, huh?”
Logan chuckled, his fingers gently brushing through your hair. “Maybe,” he said quietly, “but I’d say we’re a damn good time.”
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rose-tinted-kalopsia · 10 months ago
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≡;-꒰ 𝑿𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑬𝑹 ꒱₊˚ ପ⊹ I  𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍
╰┈➤ ❝ xavier x afab!reader | smut nsfw 18+ mdni
tags : softdom!xavier, reader has negative thoughts, implications of depression (not explicitly stated/mentioned), implication of self-harm (scars) (not detailed), slight arguing (ish), cuddling, praise and reassurance, kissing and making out, nipple play, slight clit play, fingering, soft and lazy foreplay, use of pet names "angel" "princess", lmk if i missed any tags !! ((slightly unedited))
note : the depiction of depression in this work does not mean to generalize; please keep in mind that different people can experience depression very differently!
wc : 6.1k
youtiful masterlist | works masterlist
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You blew your hair out of your face as you walked quietly, your footsteps moving slow as you climbed the staircase of your apartment complex. Your hand was loosely holding the upper arm opposite to it, and you sighed.
You couldn't even practice your own profession without making things harder for everyone.
You bit back a grimace recalling the low-level Wanderer that you had even barely managed to kill—how embarrassing! Sure, maybe it had been particularly difficult for you to get proper sleep, and, sure, maybe it had been just as hard for you to find your appetite enough to eat as much as you should be eating—
But the point still stood.
You were supposed to be an accomplished Hunter, and yet, here you were, walking home with wound marks from a Wanderer that most beginners could easily defeat.
If Jenna and the rest of the team knew...
You shook your head.
They shouldn't know...
You grimly moved your thumb over the sensor of your door lock, when your ears picked up the sound of light footsteps.
It was as if by instinct that you whipped your head around almost immediately, and when your eyes fell upon a set of very familiar blue ones, you almost felt yourself shrink back.
Xavier.
"...Oh," was all he said for a moment, stopping a few feet away from you, tilting his head to the side. You knew that look; he was observing you. He had obviously found the situation odd, obviously found something wrong and out of place with it, and you weren't particularly surprised—Xavier was always observant.
But you let your arms drop to the side, pulling down your sleeves to the tips of your fingers, and unfortunately, you couldn't help yourself from being a little awkward.
"Um... Hi?" You supplied, attempting a crooked smile.
Xavier didn't reply for a moment, and the silence made your heart beat uncomfortably in your chest.
And then,
"You didn't answer," he spoke, finally.
When you gave him a confused look, he gestured towards the pocket of your jeans, where he always knew your phone was.
You winced.
"Oh... Right... Sorry. I, uh? I was kind of busy..."
Your gaze fell to the ground.
"...Okay," Xavier spoke again after a while, but you heard him take a step forward. "I was worried, so I came down to check."
Another pause—
"What were you busy with?"
Your heart thrummed loudly in your chest, and you still refused to look up at him, in fear of making your lie all the more easier for him to dismiss: "Just a little morning outing with Tara!" You tried your best to sound a little energetic.
"So.... You're okay?"
You could feel his eyes boring right into you, and he took another few steps forward until you could see the tips of his shoes from where you stood looking at the ground.
"...Yeah..."
By some magnetic force, your were drawn to look up almost meekly into his eyes, and you knew instantly that it was a giveaway. You faltered when your gazes met; Xavier's eyes were always so impossibly blue that you could never bring yourself to look away once you'd started.
"...Hey... Are you sure?" You watched a small frown grace his features then, and perhaps, it was what triggered what seemed to be a pre-programmed response to any sign of disapproval.
You put up your best smile, and nodded your head. "Yeah! I'm fine! Great, even!"
"But... The way you're standing—"
Xavier reached out as if to grab your arm, but your eyes widened.
You quickly twisted away.
Feeling your heart beat faster, you turned to unlock your door, already taking a step inside. "Nothing's wrong!" You insisted, still smiling cheerfully at him. "I'm feeling absolutely peachy! Just a normal day out! Just, you know. Socializing can get tiring sometimes, right? I'll just, um, get some rest before the banquet later—"
Xavier was observant.
He was always observant.
You knew this, and yet, you had clearly underestimated it.
"...Your blouse..." He murmured, still frowning slightly as his gaze shifted to your collar. It was upturned, and you'd missed a button. Your breath hitched in your throat when you realized that he could easily piece things together from this if you let him study you any longer.
In a rush, you reached over to fix your blous, and then looked back up at him with a nervous laugh. You put your arms in front of you to wave them with denial. "Don't mind it! I, uh... I didn't notice. I must've looked silly all day, haha...!"
And then you noticed your next mistake.
Xavier's eyes slowly traveled lower, and you gasped as you realized that your blouse had ridden up with your sudden movements, exposing a cut on your waist from the Wanderer that you had been fighting. There was no hiding it now, even as you cleared your throat and hurriedly pulled and straightened your shirt.
"You're hurt."
It was a simple statement, and the soft concern in his voice made you exhale slowly.
No, you thought, not now, Xavier...
"I-it's just a little cut. I can deal with it! I know how to treat my own wounds—"
"But you always treat my wounds."
That frown again.
Your mouth went dry.
"...Yes, but... This is... This is different, I'm fine, it's just... Just one cut..."
This time, Xavier's frown deepened, and he didn't say anything else. Instead, he pulled you in through your own door, into your own appartment, and pointed directly towards the couch—
"Sit down."
You chewed on your bottom lip, watching as he walked further into the unit and into your bathroom.
His voice was cold.
It was one you hadn't heard quite often; one he only used when he was... serious. And most notably, one he used more often with other people than yourself.
Your heart sank.
I've really done it this time... you thought, sitting down neevously on your couch and folding your hands neatly onto your lap. You chewed on the inside of your bottom lip.
Your thoughts were going a mile a minute—he was upset, he was angry. He was going to come back out of there and scold you and tell you off, and you could easily have a fight right then and there because you were so needlessly incompetent—
Footsteps.
The door shut.
Xavier knew your apartment like the back of his hand, having been over so often, that it didn't take long for him to find what he was looking for—a few moments, and he emerged from the bathroom holding your familiar first-aid kit.
You felt meek as he walked over, footsteps heavier than usual, getting on his knees in front of you... But he didn't say a single word. He remained silent even as he lifted up your blouse, respectful enough not to lift it unnecessarily high, only just enough to expose your cut. It's kind of him, you thought, the simple action easing your nerves slightly. Despite the fact that you had been intimate several times before, he would still respect your space—even if he was obviously displeased in the moment.
But displeased, he was.
There was tension, and it was undeniable.
Your heart continued to beat rapidly in your chest, feeling small as he treated your wound.
"...It's our day off," he spoke curtly then.
Ah, you thought, now he's addressing the lie I told him...
"...Yeah..." you whispered quietly.
"Jenna knows we have the banquet later on."
"...i know..."
Xavier looked up, frowning, and you bit your lip at the iciness in his stare. "You know, and yet you went out and got yourself hurt."
"Th- there was a wanderer—"
"And you decided you could take it on your own, is that it?"
"B-but I did! It's gone now, and I—"
"It's gone, and you're injured. On. Your. Day. Off."
You swallow down a protest, your lips quivering slightly. You didn't know anymore, if it was the sting from the disinfectant that brought tears to your eyes, or this unusually cold demeanor that you were witnessing from him.
Or, you thought grimly, perhaps it was both.
But it was almost as if Xavier did not notice as he cleaned up your wound, reaching into the kit to bandage it. He kept a solemn, expressionless face, and the silence was loud. Uncomfortable.
"...Xavier..." Your voice came out as barely a whisper, and then he shifted to turn completely to the kit, almost as if rummaging through it.
"I'll need to take off your shirt," he spoke somewhat matter-of-factly, but he still refused to look up at you.
"...H- huh?"
"How many wounds do you have?"
You gulped. "...Just... just this one..."
Another silence.
He paused, and you almost wished that the ground would swallow you whole.
And yet still, again, was the kindness from his usual gentle nature—because he still asked for your permission. He knew well that you never took of your top completely in front of him, always preferring it on even on nights he would make love to you.
...But something told you that he wouldn't be entirely happy to let it go in this moment.
You faltered when he turned his head.
"Don't lie to me."
He narrowed his eyes.
It was a simple statement, and a valid one—you had indeed been lying to him, since the moment he'd caught you in the hallway. And yes, you deserved chastisement for it. Of course you did! When was it ever a good thing to lie so much to your partner? To avoid them and their care? You knew you were being pathetic and he had every right to be upset with you, but—
You swallowed down the lump in your throat, feeling tears prick at your eyes again.
"...Don't..." you pleaded, your voice small. You closed your eyes, bowing your head and moving to draw your knees up to your chest, withdrawing into a closed position. "Don't be like this, Xavier, please... Y- you're scaring me..."
Another apprehensive silence followed after your words, and you felt yourself shiver.
But in the next second, Xavier sighed.
There was a shift in weight on the couch as he sat beside you, and then his hands reached over to rest on top of yours. His touch this time was warm. Gentle. A stark contrast to his earlier treatment.
"...I'm sorry, angel," he murmured. The use of his nickname for you made your heart skip a beat, and he rubbed soft circles over the back of your hand. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that, I just... Look at me? Please?"
In response, you loosened your hold over your knees, and grip his hand tightly in yours. After a moment, you raised your hed with a pout, your eyes glistening with tears that threatened to spill. But his gaze was soft again—so gentle and loving like you had always known it to be.
"...'M just worried, angel," he whispered, continuing the soft, comforting strokes over your hand. "I... You promised me last time that you wouldn't be reckless, and, angel... You've been so distant lately..."
You watched as his eyes softened into a look of sadness, and your lips quivered.
"I... want you to honor your promise, that's all. These days... In our missions, you've become less cautious, more reckless... More involved with work and more distant with me and with everyone, and I just—I worry about you, angel. I... I don't understand what's going on, and just now, I let my emotions get the better of me, and I... I shouldn't have. I'm sorry."
His apology came out chopped, a little uncertain around the edges, as if he couldn't find the right words to truly say to you. But his voice remained quiet and soothing, no longer as cold and icy as it had been moments ago.
"Talk to me?" he pleaded. "Please, angel?"
And you figured that you should.
This was Xavier, after all—your boyfriend, and the most loving person that you had ever known. You owed him an explanation.
...But your heart remained heavily set in your chest.
You were hesitant.
"I... I don't know how..." You managed to get out, swallowing thickly once more.
Xavier's eyes were so blue, so bright, so kind as he looked at you.
Your gaze dropped back down to your knees.
"...I don't know how to do anything anymore," you whispered. "Even if I tried to explain it to you, I wouldn't know what to say, it's just... It's so much easier to ignore, to pretend like these feelings don't exist."
"What feelings, angel?" You felt his hand squeeze yours in a manner of reassurance, but you shook your head.
"Bad ones," you mumbled, "negative ones. And if I don't keep myself busy, then I can't ignore them. I'll think too much. Then if I think too much, it... it might happen again..."
Your chest felt heavy as you spoke, even as Xavier comfortingly held your hand, even as you knew that he was listening to you with every intention to guide you through... whatever this was.
But you really didn't know how to continue anymore.
How could you say anything when you couldn't understand it yourself?
You felt so... pathetic.
"Angel?" Xavier murmured, lacing your fingers together. "What... might happen?"
For a while, you didn't speak; you didn't move.
And Xaver did not pressure you.
He stayed silent right along with you, rubbing into the palm of your hand, his gaze on you so full of love and concern that it almost made you cry.
So you closed your eyes and pulled your hand away from him. You told yourself that maybe it would be easier if they stayed closed, and you slowly unbuttoned your blouse, shrugging it off of your shoulders. You didn't want to see his reaction... But you knew what he could see, on your skin, now.
There were a few cuts on your shoulder from your fight with the Wanderer, smaller and less concerning than the one on your waist. But as you slid your sleeves down lower to your wrists and shrug it off completely... he'd be seeing more scars. Patterned, and much too neatly placed, to be a result of careless fighting.
"Angel..." you heard him breathe out, a mixture of shock, disbelief, and sorrow.
And only then did you open your eyes, meekly searching for his.
"...I— I haven't done it in weeks!" Damage control. "I'm clean, right now, but... If I don't— If I don't work, I don't— I don't know—"
Before you could break down in tears again, Xavier gently pulled you into his arms, sighing into your hair. "If you don't work, you won't have anything to distract yourself with?" he whispered softly.
You closed your eyes at his warmth, and you nod.
"But... Can I ask you why?"
It was this question that got you to tense up, enough for him to notice.
"I want to help, princess," he looked softly into your eyes as he pulled back slightly, reaching up to brush the hair out of your face. "But... I need to know how. Would you let me? Could you... Tell me? Is that okay?"
The mere fact that he wanted to help made you want to sob.
He was so... nice to you.
So kind, so patient—
You didn't deserve it.
You felt tears well up in your eyes once more, and you screwed your eyes shut, shaking your head. "'M sorry," you choked out, and Xavier immediately held you close.
"No, princess... I'm sorry. I should be the one apologizing. I should have known... I shouldn't have gotten upset at you..."
Tears slid down your face, and you buried your face into his chest. His words churned at your stomach with a heavy feeling you didn't know how to describe. "That's not true," you whimpered. "It's... It's me. I'm always a burden... Always having to make you worry, when you've been trying your best to take care of yourself but I can't even keep a simple promise—"
You began to sob into his sweater. "Why, Xavier? I feel... I feel so worthless. How could I deserve you? How could I deserve anything you give me? And how... How could I be so selfish to want more of it?" You grip him tightly, almost digging into the back of his sweater as everything begins to pour out. "It feels... It feels as if no matter what I do... Nothing ever makes me any worthier of your love. Of anyone's."
And Xavier listened.
He didn't interrupt you, didn't speak—
He listened.
He placed his hand over your back, rubbing softly into your exposed skin, letting you speak until his consistent motions helped you relax slightly in his hold. And after a few moments of your sniffling, he gently peeled you away, before bringing you in for a soft, quick kiss.
Your eyes, blurred with tears, looked up at him confused.
"Nothing can change the way I feel about you, angel," he murmured sweetly. "You do deserve everything, and even more than that. You've done nothing wrong, princess. Don't apologize to me. I worry about you because I want to worry about you... Because I choose to worry about you." He softly placed a hand on your cheek. "Do you remember what I told you? I meant it when I said that. You are special to me. And I want to do everything in my power to protect you, to keep you by my side... to make sure you're okay. I'm sorry that I was so cold to you earlier. I'll be a better source of comfort for you now, I... I'm here, angel. I won't leave."
You remained sniffling as he spoke, and your eyes slowly drifted back down to your lap.
But you found the courage to speak.
"The banquet..." you whispered. "I... I don't want to go."
"Then don't. We don't have to."
"But... But Tara, and Jenna—"
"They won't mind, we won't be the only ones not going, right?"
You looked up, uncertain still. "...And you?"
"Me?"
"You... you said you wanted to go..."
At this, Xavier's eyes softened, and a gentle smile played at his lips. "Well... We could tell them I wouldn't let you leave me... And it wouldn't totally be a lie."
When your gaze had yet to relax, he shook his head with a little laugh. "It's less about the place and the activities... and more about the person you do them with. Remember?" He tucked your hair behind your ear and whispered softly, reassuringly. "Whatever we do, wherever we go, I'll want to be there. Because you would be with me. So if you want to go to the banquet, then I'd want to go to the banquet. But if you want to spend the night here, then I would also want nothing more."
You sniffled again, tears streaming down your cheeks as you felt your chest burst with warmth.
You truly felt so... loved. So seen, so heard, so understood—he was right; you should have gone to him for comfort when all of this had started, instead of trying to distance yourself from everyone you loved.
Xavier reached over to wipe your tears away with the pad of his thumb.
"Shh, don't cry angel..."
And then he leaned down to kiss you, nice and slow, and so soft, and loving. His lips moved delicately; nothing like the passionate kisses you sometimes shared, and for a while the both of you stayed that way. Just soft, fond kisses as he helped your body relax into him, relax into the couch, removing all the tension you had built up in your shoulders.
When you pulled away, you let out a soft sigh. He shifted and pulled you back against his chest, stroking your hair and murmuring sweet words of how much he loved you; how much you meant to him.
And you had never felt so... at peace, before. All these past weeks dealing with the void in your mind that you couldn't chase away—but here, in his arms, it was all minimized. Calm. Your thoughts weren't as scalding as they usually were.
You felt... Safe.
"Better?" he mumbled.
"...Yeah."
You closed your eyes.
There was another quiet silence before you felt him trace the scars on your arm.
"Wish I could help you relax more, make you feel more loved..." he mumbled.
You shook your head. "Despite everything I said, I already feel loved, Xavi, don't feel pressured to—"
"I'm not pressured."
There was determination in his voice when he said this, and you let out a soft, barely-there chuckle.
"Yeah," you smiled, "okay."
And he continued to trace over your scars.
"Angel?"
"Hm?"
"Do you still have thoughts right now?"
"Mmmh... A little bit. Yeah."
You tilted your head up to look at him, searching his eyes. "But... They're not so loud. This is... Comforting."
"Comforting?"
"Yeah. Staying in your arms like this..." Your eyes softened. "You're pretty comforting, Xavier."
"...But, do you... want a distraction?"
His eyes didn't stray away from yours, but you felt his fingers trail from your arm to your stomach, light, feathery strokes upwards towards your clothed breasts.
His intentions clicked, and you felt yourself blush slightly.
"Xavier..." you mumbled.
He didn't do anything more than stroke your exposed skin, never going further than you had given permission for him to.
But he asked you again, more clearly this time.
"...I could touch you," he gave you a small, faint smile. "If you want? At least... You wouldn't be thinking of anything too much that way..."
His voice trailed off as he noted your lack of response, and then he reached over to squeeze your hand.
"We don't have to do anything, angel. It was just a suggestion."
"...No, I— It's okay." Immediately, you shook your head. "You... You could definitely do that." You felt yourself get breathless at the thought of it, and you leaned back against him.
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure."
You weren't looking at him in that moment, but you could feel him smile as he placed a soft kiss into your hair.
"Okay. Then... I'll make you feel good, angel."
It was a promise, and one that you knew he could fulfil easily.
You felt him tilt your chin up next, your eyes meeting once more, and then he kissed you. Still soft, still slow; his lips moved languidly against yours as if to ease you into it. You felt butterflies in your stomach—this was a kiss that you knew very well from him, and one that you both knew you loved. It was a kiss that said more than just "i love you"; it was a kiss that said "i like being here with you", a kiss that said " let's stay like this forever".
It was a testament—that Xavier was yours, and you were his, and he would show you that he loved you more than you would ever realize.
Slowly, you pulled back from the kiss, the both of you panting. But you didn't look away, and neither did he—not even as his hands moved lower to undo the buttons or your jeans, not even as you lifted your hips for him to pull them down.
"Do you want them off?" he mumbled, still keeping his eyes on yours. "Want you to be comfortable."
"...Mhm. S'okay. I needed to change, anyway..."
When he'd helped you out of your jeans, his lips were back on yours once more—hands gently stroking your sides, tracing your wounds, and your scars, taking his time with you. Your eyes fluttered closed. Xavier's touches were so sweet, so comforting. They could lull you into sleep, and he was right; there was no more space for you to think of any other thoughts that weren't just... him.
When he reached over to unclasp your bra, he let it fall off to the side. And then he leaned his chin over the top of your head, almost as if to get a better look.
"Haven't seen these before," he commented, a little cheekily.
You rolled your eyes—if you weren't nestled so comfortably in his embrace, you'd have reached up to hit him in indignance. "...Don't act all innocent," you mumbled.
"Hm? Wasn't acting, angel." He cupped your breasts, humming slightly, still keeping his eyes on them. You felt him gently massage them in his hands, and you let out a sigh. "They're so soft. It's different from touching them through your shirt."
"Xavier..."
He chuckled, leaning back up to give you another kiss. "I know. This... is why you've always wanted to keep your shirt on, right? Your... scars."
You felt your stomach churn with guilt for a split second, before your body shuddered and melted into the way his hands worked at your chest.
"...D- didn't want you to know..." you breathed out. "'S not easy to say..."
"I know. But thank you for telling me, angel. You can tell me anything, alright? We'll work through this together."
Together. We.
He wasn't saying that it was... your problem. He was saying it was on the both of you—that you weren't alone, and that he would be with you every step away... And it was such a sweet thing for him to say. His words touched your heart, and you felt yourself letting out a shaky breath.
"...Okay," you whispered. "Okay."
He leaned back down to suckle over your collarbone, then, nibbling gently over your skin. It was enough to draw out a soft moan from you.
"Ah... That feels nice..."
In response, his fingers brushed over your nipples. The sudden direct stimulation made you gasp—
And you understood what he meant.
It was different, like this. Now, without any fabric as a barrier, the pads of his fingers rubbed oh-so-perfectly over your little nubs, and it felt... good.
Better than you were used to.
Xavier hummed as he rest his head back on your shoulder, watching the way your breasts molded into his palm, your nipples pert and hard as he began to twist and pinch them in his hands.
"They're pretty up close," he stated again, a little matter-of-factly. "We should do this more often..."
Another pull at your nipples, and you moaned.
"Mmh, shit—yes—"
You wanted to retort, but instead, you found yourself arching your back further into his hands. Your eyes clouded over slightly.
"Yeah? Feels nice?" he murmured.
"Mhm... Feels real nice, Xav..."
He nuzzled into your neck, a soft, loving action despite what he was doing to your body.
"D'you think you could cum like this? Or do you need more?"
His motions remained steady as he spoke, his eyes flitting over your figure. And you, on the other hand, felt your breath come out in a long exhale.
You closed your eyes.
"...More."
And he smiled.
You could feel it, the way the corners of his lips turned up against your skin where he placed light kisses on the base of your neck. And then he kept one hand on your breast, his other hand began to trail slowly down your stomach.
Your body jolted slightly at the change, his fingers leaving a trail of goosebumps before they settled over your thigh. His hand stayed stationed there, squeezing it gently... Never quite moving upwards, not just yet. He was still quite far from where you wanted him like this, and you huffed with displeasure.
"Can I tease?" he asked, and you could feel his smile widen.
You groaned.
"No! M'already wet."
"But I want to take my time with you, princess. You're so... beautiful."
The way he moaned in your ear, kneading your thighs, made you shiver with excitement. He'd been asking you if he could tease... Yet here he was, already doing it anyway.
You grit your teeth. "I need you, Xavi."
"But... Please? It'll prolong the pleasure, you know?"
"...Why are you begging me?"
You scoffed this time, and he chuckled, his breath hitting the shell of your ear.
"I just like the way your body responds to me. You know that."
Once again, you felt that you could have smacked him on the head if you had any remaining ounce of control over your body, but you only bucked your hips forward in a failed attempt to chase his fingers. The way he laughed at you made you glare at him indignantly—It was almost like a little apology on his part when he leaned in for a quick, quick kiss, his hand sliding just a little bit further up your thigh.
"I love you, okay, angel?" he sighed. "Just... wanted to let you know that, again."
You huffed slightly.
"I know, Xavier. And I love you. But as much as I want to say thank you, I just really, really need your fingers inside me. ...Please?"
Impatience was not a look you favored on yourself, but Xavier didn't mind it—he never minded if you preferred to be quiet, or vocal, or demanding, or receptive... Xavier, despite the way he would tease, had always been driven by the need to please you.
So he finally complied with your request.
You felt him gently bring your knees up closer to your chest, feet close together before he pushed your knees apart, and then he let out a low groan. With you spread out effectively for him, he reached over to gather your slick onto his finger.
"So beautiful for me, angel," he nibbled on your ear, making you shiver. "And so, so wet."
In response, you moaned, allowing your head to lull slightly to the side as he spread your juices all over your cunt in gentle strokes. "I told you," you spoke in a hushed tone.
"Hmm... and what's on your mind now, angel?" His breath was still so close to your ear as he spoke, his tone low, and raspy—sultry, like it always was when you did things like this.
"You."
You didn't hesitate to answer, your mouth falling open in a silent gasp when his middle finger slid inside with a wet squelch.
"Mhm? And?"
"...Y- your fingers..."
He slowly dragged his finger out before thrusting back in, his breath hot and heavy. You could feel him smile.
"Anything else, angel?"
He could have almost been cooing at this point, and it was driving you insane. You groaned in frustration, lifting your hips slightly as if to get from him the stimulation you needed.
"Nothing," you moaned as you felt his thumb reach up to brush against your clit. Slow, thrusting motions, and occassional rubs—it was driving you insane. "N-nothing else, Xav, just— just how good you're making me feel—"
He let out a satisfied chuckle then, drawing his finger out and having then drip with your arousal:
"Good."
Your eyes flew wide open as he thrust back into you, moving his finger relentlessly inside as if to explore your walls. It was barely seconds before his index finger pushed right inside your tight hole as well, filling you up in a way that you couldn't do to yourself. His fingers were so long, so much better than your own, and no matter how many times he fingered you, you could never, ever tire of it.
He picked up the pace as your hips met his thrusts.
"F- fuck!" you cursed, panting as he did just that with his fingers, his thumb still circling over your clit, his other hand still avidly toying with your breast and your nipple.
The combined stimulation clouded your brain; he felt so damn good. If, when he'd just started, he had already chased away any foreign thoughts—now, your mind had nearly frozen white. Your mouth hung open as a testament to your pleasure, and he panted into your ear all the same, almost as if he were just as affected.
His fingers continued to pump into you, stretching you wide, curling against your sensitive spot, rubbing you in all the right places. Your legs began to shake, and he lightly licked at the shell of your ear.
"Close?" he murmured, having already memorized the telltale signs of the onset of your orgasm.
You could only nod, choking back a moan.
And then his lips were back on yours.
A little more frantic in his kisses this time, as he fucked you harder with his fingers, pinching and pulling and rolling your nipples—
"M-mmf—!"
You let out a muffled moan, swallowed into the kiss as you came. Your back arched, your body shuddering; a wave of pleasure came crashing into you with such force that it had you feeling shocked.
When he pulled back, the both of you were panting, your eyes clouded and hazy, his fingers wet and sticky when he slid them out of your cunt.
"...Better, princess?" he whispered, and there was another cheeky, cheeky grin on his face.
You smiled back at him, and he leaned over to kiss the tip of your nose.
"Much."
With a soft chuckle, he continued to place light, feathery all over your face, easing you out of your high, until your breathing became calmer.
"I could take you to your room," he mumbled, feeling you close your legs and cuddle into him. "Are you cold?"
"Cold? After you've just made me cum?" You scoffed, somewhat, but willingly clung to his arms. "I'm okay. But... The bed would be nice..."
Another kiss into your hair, another soft smile. "Okay."
He had you carried in his arms the next moment, soft footsteps padding the floor to your bedroom and gently laying you over your mattress. He took a few moments to wipe you down, before he drew your blanket up over your body, and slipped in to lay right beside you. He shifted your head to rest on his shoulder.
"Tired?" he hummed.
A pause, and then,
"...Yeah, kind of." You closed your eyes as you relaxed into his warmth. "But, you haven't done anything... You could put it inside me—or I could suck you off, or—"
He immediately cut you off as he gave you a small frown, and then before you could react, he kissed you almost harshly—as if to shut you up.
"Mmf— Xavier!" you gasped when you pulled away, your frown mirroring his own. "What was that for?"
"You said you were tired."
"...Huh?"
"Why would you expect me to do any more if you said you were tired?"
You searched his expression to realize that his frown was rooted instead in confusion, rather than disdain or disapproval.
"...But... Isn't it unfair...? If you just let me sleep like this..."
"...Do you want to, angel?" A small pout formed on his lips. "I'm alright like this. It's unfair if I force you when you don't want to. You should rest, if you're tired. This doesn't have to be... transactional, you know? We can do more when you want to."
The use of the word 'transactional'made you flush slightly with embarrassment, as you realized that was likely how you'd made it seem—you shook your head immediately. But his words, at the same time, gave you the space to lay back against his chest, wrapping your arms around him as the sound of his heartbeat seemed to lull you peacefully.
"...Sorry," you whispered. "I didn't mean it that way. I know our sex isn't like that..."
You sighed. "I'll... I'll sleep for a bit, then? But... thanks, Xavi."
You felt him place another kiss into your hair, a fond, loving gesture, as he shifted to hug your body tightly against his.
"I'll be right here when you wake up."
It was a promise; a genuine one.
Xavier wasn't going to leave you alone, no matter how many times your mind would bug you to think that way.
And you trusted him, and you loved him... and he had shown the same back to you—now, and always.
A tiny little smile made its way to your face as your eyelids fluttered close.
"I love you, Xavier," you whispered. "Thank you."
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⁺₊ / an: inspired by xavier's 4★ card pair, "shining light" and "shining traces" !! i think we underestimate how cold and intimidating xavier can really get because if he was angry at me i too would wish the ground would swallow me whole 😭
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