#just realized it doesn’t look like i had stepped away from this blog for even a second but i swear i wasn’t lurking as much as i always do
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lloquent · 2 days ago
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oh The Boys™️ Billy Butcher season 1 eps 4 & 5 & 6 what you do to me ….
(also just every episode but these are the current ones i have readily available for butcherposting <3)
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marvelouslizzie · 1 year ago
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Not Lonely Anymore
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summary: You hear your roommate Bucky Barnes moan your name while masturbating and it changes everything between you two.
pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
word count: 3K
warnings: 18+, dry jumping (brief), unprotected sex, daddy kink, metal arm kink, choking, teasing, dirty talk, no mention of y/n.
A/N: Hello hello! I present you the last part of my Lonely Night series. I am so grateful for your interest in the first two parts. I tried to keep my motivation up and give these two perverts a satisfying ending. I hope you will enjoy it as much as I did. Your feedback would be much appreciated.
You don't have to read the first two parts to understand what's going on but if you want to, please check my blog/masterlist for A Lonely Night and Same Lonely Night.
Thank you so much @notafunkiller for beta-reading and editing. Daddy kink and choking is for you ✌️
All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.
Read more tag starts after the second paragraph of the story.
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You can’t take your eyes off Bucky while you're processing what has just happened. Your eyes roam around his face and bare chest before falling on his shorts. His erection is pressed against the waistband, carefully hidden away from you but the wetness forming on the fabric betrays Bucky’s intentions. You can’t contain your smile, but Bucky doesn’t see it. He’s too lost in his own thoughts, and when your eyes meet, you realize he is worried and embarrassed. He opens his mouth, wanting to say something in order to end this awkward silence, but you beat him to it.
“Did you just say my name?” It comes out so calm, you even surprise yourself.
You know he did. You heard it with your own ears loud and clear. That’s why you dropped your glass after all. But it was that shocking to you. That unbelievable! So you just want him to confirm it. To make it real and assure you that really happened. Maybe then you will be able to believe it.
“I- I can explain.” You notice the cold sweat forming on his forehead.
He seems like a scared kid who got caught doing something he shouldn’t do. And it’s probably because he thinks he might lose you. You would feel the same way if he was the one who caught you masturbating just an hour ago. God, that would be mortifying, but now that you are on the other side of the equation, all you feel is excitement.
The realization eventually sinks in: he wants you. He actually wants you. That gives you a level of confidence you never had before.
You take a step forward and close the distance. Your lips are on his before he can react. You wanted to do this for a long time, but you had been unsure if he would have wanted it or not. You have a clear answer now, so there’s no need to hold yourself back. It takes him a second to respond to you, but you don’t hesitate. You just keep kissing him and it wakes him up like he has been hibernating for a long time.
His hands wrap around your torso and he pulls you closer. His fingers are digging into your hips like he’s trying to convince himself this is real, and he tilts his head just enough to deepen the kiss. His tongue gently slides into your mouth and that makes you moan for the first time. His lips, his tongue… He tastes so sweet. You just can’t get enough of it. It makes you crave him even more, and you don’t know how that is even possible.
Suddenly you push him, hoping to get him back inside his bedroom, but he doesn’t move an inch. He just gives you a dazed look, trying to understand why you did that.
“Work with me. Just move back.” You sound impatient, and he finally understands what you are trying to do.
“Fine.” He raises both of his hands like he’s surrendering, with a smile on his face, then he takes a step back and lets you push him further inside the room. You continue until the back of his knees hits the bed and he falls onto it after one final push.
“Is that what you wanted?” He sounds amused.
“Yeah.” You straddle him without missing a beat, getting comfortable on his lap while he pulls you in for another kiss.
This time it feels a little different. His hands are on your cheeks, holding you still while his tongue explores your mouth. It is the most passionate kiss you have ever had in your life. His erection is standing right there, between your legs and you can’t help yourself… You can’t stop that urge that’s slowly building up and why would you? You’re on his lap, finally doing this. There’s no need to stop yourself from doing what you want. So while he tastes you however he wants, you start to move your hips. After a couple of tries, you find the perfect spot and both of you moan nearly at the same.
He stops kissing you for a second just to take a breath, but he still holds your cheeks with his big hands and looks into your eyes. It’s like he’s afraid you might disappear. You have no plans of disappearing or stopping, though. You keep moving your hips and watching his eyes flutter every time you rub the right spot. It feels good even with the fabric between you two. Yet it’s not enough.
“We should get rid of your shorts.”
“And your panties.”
You raise yourself on your knees, just enough for him to push his shorts down, but you don't give him enough space to take them off completely.
“I don’t wanna use any protection. Do we have to?”
“Well, we don’t have to, but we might need to.” He’s not sure how fertile he is. It’s not like he tried it before, so it’s quite risky. All he knows is he has a lot more come than an average man and that’s a problem when it comes to using condoms. They are practically useless.
“I’m on the pill.” You quickly clarify. You only asked the question to see if he was comfortable with the idea or not.
“Then we definitely don’t need to.” Oh, he’s definitely comfortable. The way he just said it is enough.
He grabs his cock while you pull your panties aside without wasting any time, and you lower yourself onto him while balancing yourself with one arm on his shoulder.
“That impatient?” He taunts you, but he chokes on his words as soon as he feels your wetness. The head of his cock rests between your folds while you answer him:
“Are you not?” You sound relatively normal. Then you keep talking while taking him inch by inch. “Would you rather fuck your fist and fantasize about me?”
He wants to answer you. He wants to say something, but being balls deep inside you makes it harder to do so. He just lets out a low groan while grabbing your ass to ground himself.
You’re not so different from him. The way he stretches you pulls a pornographic moan out of you. You sit still for a second, trying to get used to this feeling. You can’t remember the last time you felt this full. It makes you shiver even without moving. You take your time and he just waits, patiently until you get used to the sensation. After a couple of seconds, you feel confident enough to move.
“Ready?”
“Yes.” There’s a bit of hesitation in his voice, but you don’t notice it because you are lost in the feeling of finally being so full. All of your senses are overwhelmed by it.
You aren’t sure if it’s going to hurt because he’s definitely the biggest you have ever had. So you move your hips slowly and test the waters. There’s something there. Some kind of discomfort. You can’t say you feel uncomfortable, you just need to get used to his size. So you keep moving because there’s this promise of pleasure hidden behind that discomfort. You can nearly taste it and it keeps you going. While trying to figure out the best way to move, you don’t realize Bucky is watching you, carefully. He’s trying to read your expression and see if you are okay. He’s ready to take up the reins or just stop if that’s what you need. His hands gently roam your body, discovering little details about your skin. Like how many moles you actually have.
“No rush. Take your time.” He sounds more like himself, much more confident than before.
You moan because of his words. His voice is deeper and it makes your blood rush. You start to move a little faster and notice how the discomfort slowly fades away. He notices that, too while grabbing your tits with both of his hands. One is colder than the other, and the contrast is dizzying. You lean into him, just to feel him a little bit more, and his grip on your tits tightens.
“God, so fucking pretty!”
Before you can say anything, his mouth is on your right nipple. You feel his tongue flicking over and over again while his other hand rests on the other breast. Then he sucks your nipple into his mouth, letting his teeth graze over it. You grunt because of the mixed sensations. Just when you are about to protest, he lets out your nipple and moves on to the other one. He gives it the same treatment. A mix of licking, sucking, and biting until you can’t contain your movements. Your hips start to move so much faster, making both of you moan loudly.
“God, I wanted to do this for ages!” The words spill out from your lips without much of a thought.
“You did?” He doesn’t miss a beat.
“Yeah.” There’s no point in hiding it anymore, is there?
“Does this mean I am the daddy?”
His question catches you off guard, and you just freeze in the middle of the action.
“You… heard me.” It comes out more like a question rather than a statement.
“Why do you think I was masturbating?”
It takes you a couple of seconds to process what he's just said. He actually heard you. You never used his name, but it doesn’t change the fact that he witnessed something so private. Something you really wanted to hide from him, yet the idea of him hearing you also sets you on fire. Instead of submitting to the urge to get all shy, you decide to ask him what you actually want to know.
“You heard me and instead of making a move, you decided to fuck your fist?”
“What was I supposed to do? Knock on your door and ask if I can replace your dildo?”
“Yeah. Sounds great to me.” You keep moving your hips fast while talking. “Or maybe you are too shy to take what you really want.”
“Shy?” He blinks a couple of times.
“You don’t seem shy but maybe you are. Maybe you are a submissive little boy who wants to just lay here and take whatever I give you.”
You watch his expression change into something so different. It’s not particularly dark, but it feels like it. Before you can say anything else, he just flips you over. Your mouth falls open when your back touches the bed. Instinctively, you try to wrap your legs around his torso, but he doesn’t let you. Instead, he pushes your knees back to your chest.
“What are you doing?” Your amazement is evident in your voice.
“Taking what I really want.” It takes a lot of effort to hide your smile. You can’t believe your taunting worked that quickly. “Tell me if it gets too much and I will stop.”
“Oh, I doubt that.”
He waits for you to finish talking and then he starts to move. Your mouth falls open once again but this time, it’s not because you are surprised. It’s because you can’t believe how good it feels. It’s completely different than how it felt when you were on his lap. He reaches deeper inside you in this position, and his hands are still on your legs, pushing you further into the bed. You let out another sinful moan.
“Way better than I imagined.”
“Is it?” A smile lingers on his lips. “Feel free to be as loud as you want.”
“Do you want us to get kicked out of this apartment?” It takes every ounce of strength in you to form this sentence without stuttering. It’s so hard to talk like you aren’t getting railed.
“No, I just wanna hear you call me daddy.”
You can’t help but moan. Shit, he really heard everything. You feel so exposed, but somehow it doesn’t bother you. Is he actually into this? Who could’ve guessed?
“If you want that, you gotta work harder than this.”
“Ask for it.”
“Harder, please.” He waits for daddy to come out of your mouth, but it doesn’t. You really meant what you just said, he needs to earn it.
So that’s exactly what he does. He starts to pound you, just the way you fantasized. He manages to touch every part inside you and fills up in a way that makes you wanna cry. Your moans get louder with each thrust.
“Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” Your ears start to buzz. You can feel that your orgasm is close.
“Talk to me, doll.”
He wants to hear you, and you don’t feel like holding back anymore.
“I’m-I’m so close, Bucky.”
“What do you need?” His question is instant. You feel that he’s ready to do whatever you want.
“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” You take a deep breath just to be able to keep talking. “Just keep going. Please…” Your voice comes out so pathetic, but you can’t brush off the urge to beg him. He would like that, wouldn’t he? You did it while masturbating and he got a hard-on just because of you. “Please, please, please.”
Your words make him groan like he is struggling to contain his excitement.
“I really need it, daddy, please…”
“Fuck, baby.” You feel him losing control. His thrusts are sloppier but he notices that, too. His metal arm moves on your chest and rests there. You don’t know if he’s trying to keep you still or ground himself. Then he looks directly into your eyes, trying to see if that makes you uncomfortable or not. It definitely doesn’t. Quite the opposite, you need his hand on your neck, and you gently grab his metal hand and move it on your neck without breaking eye contact. You watch his eyes widen with the realization.
“Are you sure?” You nod in response, but it’s not good enough for him. “Words, baby. I need actual words.”
“Please.”
That does it. His fingers tighten around your neck, pressing right against your veins, careful not to crush your windpipe.
“Yess.” Your head is thrown back. This is exactly what you wanted.
The way he’s choking you snaps something inside you. It intensifies everything you are feeling at that moment. Your whole body suddenly starts to shake, and it surprises you. You have never reached an orgasm this quickly before.
“Yes, yes, yes. Oh god, yes!” Your voice comes out hoarser than usual.
“Look at you.” He taps his fingers on your neck while he keeps moving. “My pretty baby. So good for me.”
You only moan in response, already too lost in the waves of your orgasm. It’s running through your whole body like electricity.
“Look at me! Look into my eyes.” He sounds so commanding and you listen to him even though it’s so hard to do it. He looks like he’s about to lose it, too.
“Come with me. P-please.”
“You want me to come, baby?” He asks in a way that makes you wanna cry out even more. Like he won’t come if that’s what you want. He will keep holding back until you say so but you don’t want that. You want him to enjoy this as much as you do.
“Please, daddy. Come with me.” He groans in response. You clearly see how your words affect him, especially calling him daddy. You can’t believe how much he’s into it.
He stops holding back and starts to move in a way that makes you scream. So you do that. You can’t contain the noises you make when he moves like this. You grip on his sheets, letting him ruin you for any other man.
“Fuck! Such pretty sounds… You like it that much, baby?”
“Yes, yes. So good, daddy.” You slur at the last part. You don’t care. You don’t care about anything when he makes you feel like this.
“Fuck, you take me so well.” You can actually hear that he’s close. “I-I’m gonna come, oh fuck.”
“Yess!” You have been waiting for this. You want it so badly. You wanna see him come. You want him to feel good, all because of you. You want to witness a part of him that he hides away from everyone else. It feels like owning a part of him. So private and primitive, but you don’t care. You need this.
He lets out the most guttural moan right before starting to come inside you. He doesn’t stop, just keeps the same pace, emptying himself inside you.
“Take it, baby. Take it! It’s all yours.” You know what he’s talking about. His come is already dripping out, yet he’s not done coming.
It looks like he lost his damn mind, but it’s the hottest thing you have ever witnessed in your life. You are so fascinated by him even though you are still coming yourself. That's why you force yourself to keep your eyes open and watch him while your high slowly fades away. Yet he keeps going. His hands are gripping on your tights, pulling you into him every time he moves. His come is dripping on your ass, to the sheets. It’s so messy but feels out of this world.
After a couple more thrusts, he collapses on top of you. His head rests on the crook of your neck, and you feel his heavy breathing on your skin. You don’t mind it, though. He doesn’t let his whole weight crush you. Always so thoughtful….
Your hands go to his hair, gently stroking it. That makes him move his head and look at you.
“We should’ve done this before.” That makes you wanna laugh, but instead, you just give him a huge smile.
“Yes, we should have. It was amazing.”
Suddenly he moves away from you, leaving you completely empty. It makes you whine instantly. You miss the fullness and the warmth of his cock already.
“Where are you going?” You give him a confused look while raising yourself on the bed. “Come back here.”
“Not was.” He kneels right next to the bed, in between your legs, and moves his head closer to your dripping core. “I’m not done with you, baby.”
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envy-of-the-apple · 8 months ago
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Ruptured Amethyst; Splintered Tanzanite
Dark!Satosugu x reader - Yakuza Au
Synopsis: In hopes of paying off your debt, you start working for two dangerous men. Soon, you realize they want more than money.
Word count: 9.2k
(Warnings: dark content, sexual coercion, dubcon, noncon, oral sex, piv sex, threesomes, gun, blood, violence) Ageless blogs will be blocked. Minors DNI
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In this job, you quickly learned that it's better to just keep your head down. 
Do what you were called for and leave. Do nothing but sit on your computer and look at numbers. Stepping out of your makeshift boundaries led to nothing but trouble.
It worked perfectly like that for the first few weeks you were brought here. The other workers never bothered you, and it took you a moment to realize they were in the same boat as you were: owing a debt. You wouldn’t quite say things were peaceful; every so often, one of Geto’s men would hurl someone through a table, but things were manageable.
And then Gojo came back.
You hadn’t met Gojo, yet. He was overseas on a business trip when Geto brought you in. You hadn’t met him, but you’d heard enough to make you want to stay away from him. Ijichi had told you enough stories to make you want to sink into the floor altogether. You just had until the end of the year until your debt was paid. It was the beginning of September, right now. Surely, you could avoid him until then, right?
“Ah, you’re the one Suguru was talking about.”
It was your fault. It was entirely your fault. Ijichi had begged you to stay after work for a bit longer and desperate to pay the debt off, you had agreed. No one else was supposed to be in the office besides you and him.
But Gojo didn’t follow other people’s rules. It'd take you a while before you fully understand that.
You could do nothing but stand there, wobbling in your heels as Gojo loomed over you. His sunglasses were tilted, cresting over his nose as he scrutinized you. You clutched the laptop closer to your chest, as though it’d save you somehow.
Gojo didn’t look dangerous. If you had seen him on the street, you would have assumed he was a model. Tall, long hands, pretty features. Gojo doesn’t look dangerous. Gojo is dangerous. He doesn’t need the gun (casually on his side, right in your line of sight) to prove it.
You say nothing. You don’t know what to say. So far, you’ve only dealt with Geto. Geto with his fake smiles and soft words of thinly veiled threats. As intimidating as Geto was, you felt safe enough with him to answer his questions. Speak when spoken to.
Gojo was uncharted territory. Should you speak? Should you greet him? Should you get on your hands and knees? Gojo was new. You had to deal with something new, alone.
You opt to stay silent, hoping that’s the best move. It’s not. Above you, Gojo’s clicking his tongue. He leans down, stooping his head low to get a better view of your face. You stare at him until it gets too much and you’re turning away. He likes that even less, grabbing you by the chin so you’re facing him again.
“You mute or somethin’?” He asks, tilting your head like he’s assessing you.
“No,” you finally murmur. It was a question, correct? He won’t get mad if you answer his questions.
He doesn’t seem mad. But he doesn’t seem happy, either. If anything, he looks a little disappointed.
“I really don’t get it,” he’s talking, but it’s more like he’s saying his thoughts out loud, “Suguru would not shut up about you. Thought I was gonna see something more exciting. You’re so...”
He trails off as though even describing you would be a waste. The thought that Geto speaks about you to his partners scares you, but you’re wise enough not to pry. Instead, you wait. Waiting often works. You’ve been cornered by Geto’s men (before they knew he was the one who brought you), most just want to intimidate you, they get a kick out of fear. When you give them what they want, they usually leave you alone.
Gojo doesn’t leave, even when you’re sure your horror is printed on your face. Obvious to even the blind. Instead, he leans back, eyes trailing down your outfit. Despite how most of the stuff done here was off the record, Geto still prioritized a professional workplace. You were expected to put on a clean blouse and skirt every day.
You yelp when Gojo tugs on the fabric of your skirt, bunching the material on your thighs. Forgetting where you are, who you’re with, you grab his wrist.
“Don’t be like that,” Gojo chides as though you were being the unreasonable one, “I just wanna look. Seriously, what was that guy going on and on about—”
“Satoru.”
Geto’s voice stops the both of you. He’s leaning against the wall, watching the two of you with a less than impressed look. You’re relieved when he’s more focused on Gojo than you.
“Sugu!” Gojo cheers, a complete 180 from his past demeanor. He lets you go and you sink against the wall in relief. “I’m home!”
“I can see that,” Geto retorts, but there’s an odd fondness laced in his tone that you’d never heard before.
The kiss they shared was violent. Tongue and teeth and messy. Gojo reached up, scrunching Geto’s hair, dragging him closer. Respectfully, you glanced away. You don’t yet leave. You know better than that, especially now that Geto is here.
“How many times have I told you to stop harassing our employees?” Geto sighs, once he’s pulled away. His tone is filled with exasperation, as though he were talking to a child.
“I didn’t do anythin’,” Gojo responds. When you finally turn back, Geto is shaking his head.
He smiles at you.
“Apologies, my dear,” he states, “you can leave. Remember to tell Ijichi you’re going.”
You eagerly nod before scurrying away. You can hear Gojo scoff, another murmur from Geto. You couldn’t care less what they’re saying, more than happy to grab your things, bid Ijichi goodbye, and leave.
Keep your head down, and don’t ever bother with what they are doing.
Technically, you weren’t in debt, your father was.
He had close ties to the underground. You weren’t sure of the details, you were so young when your mother left with you in tow. She was always stingy with the details, but she never failed to remind you that your father was a stupid man who worked with dangerous ones. She passed away right after you graduated from college. You’d mourned her.
Now, a part of you felt grateful she passed just before she saw your life fall apart.
They came in the middle of April. You remember that day purely because of the flower blossoms littering the sidewalk, the first sign of blooming spring.
There were three other men besides Geto that day, and you hadn’t known his name back then—just the man with long, pretty hair. They were all waiting for you, loitering right beside your home. When you hesitated, slowed to a stop, the man with long hair smiled at you. Geto calls your name. When you don’t respond, his smile widened.
“That is who you are, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” you nervously said, “sorry, but—but who are you all?”
He introduces himself. The other three don’t bother. You don’t yet realize that they’re only henchmen, mere puppets for Geto.
“Apologies, but this is a rather sensitive subject. Can we talk someplace private?”
You don’t want to let these men into your home, but his soft words and intimidating company coax you into agreeing. You lead them up the steps, praying to God that you were wrong about this—whoever they were. When you unlock the door, only Geto follows you. The rest wait outside. You don’t know if that’s better or worse.
He seats himself right on the sofa. It’s your apartment, and yet his mere presence makes you feel like he’s the owner. You loiter next to the door, twiddling your thumbs.
“Would you like tea?”
He tilts his head. “Aren’t you a polite one?”
It was more for you than for him—scurrying to the kitchen, away from his searing purple eyes. It’s a reprieve to start the burner, pour water into the pot. You take as much time as you can, but eventually, you have to come out.
Geto says nothing when you place the cups down. He takes it, humming at the taste. You don’t touch your cup.
His tone is soft. His words aren’t.
Your father did far worse than work with dangerous men. He’d stolen from them. He was already dealt with, his punishment had sent him careening off the Earth far sooner than your mother. Still, the topic of the missing money was still there.
Something that had fallen onto you, his next of kin.
You were already crying once Geto finished. Your body is wracked with sobs. You can barely suck in a breath.
“Please—please,” you’re already saying, “he—we—I swear we never received any sort of money from him.”
He takes your hand within his own, curling his fingers around them. Coming from anyone else, it would have been a nice gesture.
“I’m aware,” Geto comforts, “we know you haven’t been in contact with your father for more than a decade.”
His fingers are warm. They trace your cheek as he gently wipes away your tears.
“But in this line of business, family matters, no matter how estranged, my Dear.”
You look at him through your tears. He’s beautiful. Long black hair. If you touched it, you bet it would feel like silk within your fingers.
It’s his eyes that truly suck you in. Purple. It’s a rare eye color, you’ve never seen someone with purple eyes until now. They resemble amethyst, unpolished, but still just as beautiful.
“My partner would have much less...humane ways of dealing with this situation,” Geto continues, “but I think you could be far more useful warm rather than cold, do you agree?” You shrivel in your spot, already having an inkling to what he’s saying. It’s not like you haven’t already figured out where this was going. You’ve heard the stories of what dangerous men do to those who’ve wronged them—to the vulnerable girls who accidentally trip and fall into their trap, forced to work in brothels and debase themselves all for the sake of keeping them rich.
He laughs right then. It’s rich, deep, startling you out of your misery.
"Come now, it's the 21st century."
Geto smiles. Fake. Unsafe. 
"Women are worth far more than just their bodies." 
It turns out that even the Yakuza had paperwork.
It was a menial deskjob, on the surface, at least. If you don’t think too hard about who you’re working for, it could be a regular office. It’s not like any of the work you are provided with is illegal, but you doubt you’d put it down on your resume.
Your education had saved you. Ironic that it was your father who instilled your desire to learn.
If you don’t think too hard about it, your new ‘job’ wasn’t horrible. As notorious as they were, your new employers weren’t downright cruel. You still got paid. You had a contract. Things could honestly be a whole lot worse.
It was still very hard to get used to, especially in the beginning.
Something you learned very quickly was that the men around here did not like it when women had an attitude. You were far too meek to have one, but the other few women who worked with you became your teachers, showing you exactly what the men would do if you didn’t stay in line. You were more than happy to listen, and even then, your eagerness to learn didn’t help. In order for the lesson to truly sink in, you needed trial and error. 
You stepped out of line exactly once. And then you never did it again.
It had been an accident. You’d forgotten that Geto had an important meeting that day. You knocked on his door, shuffling some documents in your hand. It was muscle memory to just go in because he’s never said anything but come in before.
They’d all stared at you, eyes lingering up and down your body. One of them grins. Immediately, you look at Geto. Horrified. Ready to grovel at his feet if need be.
His eyes flashed dangerously. Purple turned into sharp magenta knives. Geto tilted his head.
“Come here, dear.”
You take one step. Another. Then another. The way they look at you makes your stomach twist and sink but Geto only looks at you expectantly. When you linger at his side, his lips quirk.
His grip on your waist is gentle as he guides you into his lap. Your cheeks burn, but you don’t dare move, not even when the men start laughing at the free show. Geto only curls a hand on your waist, keeping you in place as he leans back again.
“Continue, gentlemen.”
The rest of the meeting continues with you on Geto’s lap. You don’t look at any of them, hands balled into fists at your sides. You feel naked. The air within the room is stifling. You refuse to look anywhere else but the floor.
The conversation goes back to business. Despite the compromising situation, he put you in, Geto’s hands don’t wander. He's content to keep his fingers on your waist until the room filters out and everyone leaves.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Geto.” You murmur, your voice barely louder than a whisper.
He doesn’t answer, at least not to that. He just sighs, sinking into his seat. Still, Geto doesn’t let you get up. Not yet. He waits until you’re looking at him, still smiling that fake smile.
This had been a punishment. The next time you made a mistake, you doubt you’d be let off so easily.
“Learn quickly, my dear.”
You nod. You apologize again. When Geto finally lets you go, you are quick to stumble away, pushing your way out the door. Purple eyes follow you out. You don’t think they stop looking until you’re out of the room, curled into your desk, steadying your heartbeat.
You stepped out of line exactly once. You never did it again.
Despite being under Geto, technically, Ijichi is your direct superior. You thanked the Gods for it. Ijichi was the only person here you were certain didn’t have blood on his hands. He was in a similar situation as you were; stuck working off a debt that he didn’t owe. You two bonded on your shared misery. He was the one reprieve you had in your new life.
Unfortunately, now that Gojo was back, Ijichi was far busier. It gave you little time with him. You suppose you were always welcome to join them, but considering your first encounter with Gojo, you’d much rather not.
It’s not like you hadn’t had similar encounters before Gojo's arrival. In the very beginning, one of Geto’s men tried something remarkably similar. You can still remember his hand on your hip, his other hand slowly unbuttoning your shirt while other men stood to the side laughing.
It hadn’t lasted long.
You didn’t realize he was shot until he was already on the ground, twitching in pure agony. He screamed and cried louder than you had. Blood was already dripping to the floor.
Geto had already tucked away the gun, striding away as though nothing happened. He didn’t say anything, the incident was never mentioned. Even to you, his statement rang loud and clear.
You were off-limits.
Clearly, Gojo didn’t care about the unspoken rule.
So far, Ijichi hasn’t acknowledged him. If anything, your superior is hunched behind his computer, typing away, rarely taking his eyes off-screen. You admired his concentration, but it was hard for you to follow suit, considering that Gojo had taken a seat right next to you.
His stare is impossible to ignore. You can feel it even as you desperately try to focus on the screen in front of you. As if he can tell you’re intimidated by his mere presence, he leans over, shoulder pressing against your own. You could practically hear the grin in his voice.
“Watcha’ workin’ on?” He asks as though he can’t already see.
Still, you falter. “Um—”
“Um’” he repeats, “that’s all you’ve been sayin’. Hey, Ijichi—” The man in question jolts up, eyes already panicked.
“Your assistant always this jumpy, or is your personality just that infectious?”
“Sir, uh—” Ijichi starts before getting cut off by a tsk.
“See? Again,” Gojo sighs, “I see why you two get along so well.”
You and Ijichi exchange glances, unsure what to do. When Gojo says nothing more, you decide it’s okay to resume work again, typing away.
Childhood friends, Ijichi told you back when you were still morbidly curious. Gojo had come from a lineage of powerful businessmen. Geto had more or less worked his way up. They became partners somewhere along that time.
It’s hard to imagine them as friends or as anything more. They’re so different. Geto is so controlled, measured with every response he takes. Gojo is more like dynamite, ready to go off at any moment.
You suppose the only similarity is how unreadable they are. To this day, you can’t tell whether Gojo dislikes you or not. Every action you take seems only to disappoint him, yet he constantly hovers around you.
It takes another minute for you to be on the keyboard before Gojo decides he doesn’t like you working peacefully. The chair creaks under his weight as he shifts closer. His head rests against your shoulder. With his new position, you can feel his breath on your collarbone as an arm casually wraps around your shoulders. You don’t dare react, but you send Ijichi a panicked look. He looks sympathetic, but he doesn’t move to help you. You can’t find it in yourself to fault him for his inactions.
“You never answered me, by the way.” He murmurs, quiet enough that only you can hear.
You respond as diligently as you can, making sure you use as few word fillers as possible. It’s clear Gojo doesn’t like that. Or rather, he doesn’t like the nervousness your voice exudes but you doubt you could fix it, especially with his presence around.
“Sounds boring.” Gojo interrupts your rambles. “You don’t do anything else more entertaining?”
“No, sir,” you reply, “I’m only in charge of paperwork.”
Despite the other co-workers you have, you are still an anomaly. Everyone here has had an experience holding a gun—even Ijichi. It’s clear Geto ‘hiring’ you was a change in pattern, something you would always be grateful for. If he hadn't, you wouldn’t want to know what was in store for you.
That’s probably why Gojo was so curious about you. However, considering how close they were, you were now wondering why Geto hadn’t explained it.
“How long have you been working here—hey,look at me when you’re talking.”
You turn, and for the first time, you willingly face Gojo Satoru. His sunglasses are tilted down, and you can see his eyes now. They are blue, so painfully blue, like an ocean, curled up tightly within his eyes. Glittering tanzanite stares back at you—beautiful gemstones that glisten beneath the fluorescent light.
Gojo tilts his head, and you remember that he asked you a question.
“Three weeks, Sir.”
He doesn’t seem all that pleased with your answer. You wonder if you should have lied instead. He’s embarrassingly close, and the position he’s forced you into doesn’t help.
“That quick, huh?” Gojo murmurs, and he sounds a little impressed, “how many times have you and Suguru fucked?”
You gape at him, horrified at even the insinuation. It takes a while for you to even find your voice. 
“I—we’ve never. Never.”
Gojo narrows his eyes. “You don’t have to lie to me. C’mon, I'm just curious.”
It feels even worse that Gojo's question isn't even unreasonable. Geto has always treated you differently. Softer. Kinder, if you wanted to be charitable. It isn't a stretch to assume you've been doing favors for the man, in this line of work, it must be a normal occurrence. Yet, you haven't. Apart from that one blunder weeks ago, Geto has never touched you inappropriately. 
Still, you shake your head rapidly, feeling heat flush in your cheeks. Being cornered and interrogated like this is humiliating, especially in front of everyone. Ijichi is nice enough to look away while you’re being humiliated, but you know he’s listening. You know everyone’s listening.
Thankfully, Geto intervenes.
“You.” A sigh of exasperation. “Get off.”
Gojo rolls his eyes, but you almost cry in relief when he pushes away and stands up.
“We were bonding,” Gojo argues, though, like everything he says, it sounds like a tease.
Geto’s murmuring something else, and it’s clear that this interaction between them is normal. It's almost a repetition of what happened last time. Both times, you’d been the commonality.
Gojo leaves eventually, shooed away by his partner. The office finally grows quiet when the white-haired man disappears to God knows where. You feel like you can breathe again, but Geto still has not left.
When you look, he’s pinching the bridge of his nose, and you’re strangely reminded of a stressed mother. Finally, he lets out a breath, opening his eyes and staring down at you.
“I apologize for his behavior, my dear,” he says. There’s a hand on your shoulder, mirroring the touch Gojo gave you.
“He’s excitable, like a dog.” You don’t think that part was for you, though you don’t think you could ever even fathom comparing the terrifying anomaly that is Gojo to a mutt. You don’t respond. Geto squeezes your shoulder.
“Come to me if Satoru goes too far. I always take care of my people, don't I?”
He doesn’t leave until you give a nod. His hand finally retracts, allowing you to sink into your seat. You watch him until his figure disappears from view.
“I’m taking a break,” you say, not even a minute later.
Ijichi gives a nod as you push yourself up away from the computer. You spend your break the way you usually do: tucked inside the bathroom, trying to wonder how your life turned out this way.
Sometimes, you accompany Geto on his trips.
You don’t want to, but it’s not like you can reject his ‘requests.’ It’s part of the job, whether or not you can refuse is up to Geto’s whims.
The trips aren’t too bad. Most of the time, it’s a meeting with other dangerous men. You mainly just sit in a corner, peering down at the ground, trying your best not to be noticed. It works, most of the time. The few perks of this new life is how seldom the people of the underground want to associate with you, especially when you're with Geto. His presence is everywhere, a blanket of protection bestowed only to you. These days, you feel safe even when walking home alone at night.  
The trips aren't too bad, but Gojo's insistence on tagging along changed even that. 
You should be sitting up front. There's a perfectly vacate passenger seat, right beside Ijichi, the least dangerous man in the vehicle. Gojo had practically dragged you into the car with him, holding you hostage. Geto slid into the seat beside you, effectively trapping you between the two men. 
Despite your attempts to keep your body to yourself, every other minute, your thighs brush against theirs. It's a miserable affair, but neither comment on your breach of personal space. They're both too invested in their own little worlds. Geto peers peacefully out the window, enjoying the city life pass by. Gojo is glued to his phone, tapping away every so often. 
It's tempting to sneak a peek at them in their natural states, relaxed, unbothered. You don't stare for too long. 
Every so often, their worlds will collide. Geto will point out a cat. Gojo would reach over you, showing Geto something funny on his phone. Unfortunately, Gojo catches your lingering eyes.
"Wanna see?" He doesn't bother to hear your response, shoving his phone in your face. 
It's a cat video, of all things. You almost wanted to laugh at how normal it is, but you're too intimidated to do anything but give a strained smile, more designed to please. You expected something darker. More blood. More screams. On the screen, the orange kitten lightly bats at a ball of yarn.
"Got a cat?" Gojo asks, tucking away his phone. 
"No, Mr. Gojo." 
He tsks, but before your blood can freeze, he says, "I told you: It's Satoru." 
He's been insistent about it these past few days: Satoru. Satoru. Call me Satoru, as though you'd even dare. Beside you, Geto rumbles out his disapproval. 
"Don't be childish, Satoru." He chides.
The car rolls to a stop eventually. The relief in your lungs expands. Ijichi gets out first, followed by Geto. Before you can move, a hand grabs you by the chin, halting your movements. 
"You're not leaving this car until you say it, pretty thing," Gojo tells you. "C'mon. Sa-to-ru." 
Behind you, Geto sighs, but he doesn't move to stop him. Right, Geto promised he'd step in only when Gojo goes too far. Clearly, this is within his bounds. 
You wilt under the hardened tanzanite. 
"Satoru." You mutter. 
Satisfied, Gojo releases his hold on you, hopping out the car, humming a happy tune. 
Geto holds his hand out to you. You'd be an idiot not to take it.
"Bear with him today, dear," he tells you when you step out in the pavement, "he's in a mood." 
Amythyst sears into you. You can only nod. 
Even then, Geto doesn't release you. He gently maneuvers your arm until your elbow is interlocked with his. He takes his time, walking into the building, mindful of your heels. Ijichi and Gojo are already ahead. Gojo takes a look behind him, spots the two of you, scoffs, but doesn't do much more. 
It's another thing you don't know how to feel about. The two have always instigated less than friendly gestures toward you. Yet, neither of the two have expressed any kind of jealousy. You know they are clearly lovers, yet the way they allow their significant other to behave with you makes you feel a bit nauseous. 
 Most likely, they see you as a pet. Not even a threat to their relationship. It makes sense. In their eyes, you're probably a scared gazelle in the middle of a lion's den. Cute. Something to play with. 
There's another theory in your head that you're pushing away.
You follow the same procedure you've always followed. You stay still and silent, like a doll, right beside Geto. Strange men come up to him, greeting him with smug smiles. They barely give you a glance. That's good. It means they know you're one of Geto's. 
Gojo being there changes the dynamic. He's more serious, in this setting. You sit right next to Geto's side, listening as Gojo talks. They both do that a lot. Talking. Negotiating. Scheming. You're a bit disappointed in yourself at how easy it is to let the words swirl around until there's nothing left to understand. It's easy to ignore them now. The horrors they partake in. The horrors you are indirectly part of. 
Are you allowed to be innocent now that you work under these people? You've never pulled the trigger yourself, but is that an excuse? Morally speaking, you're the same as the men you are terrified of. 
How laughable. You came to that conclusion right when they were discussing the price of narcotics. 
Sometime later, you find yourself alone, roaming down an unfamiliar hall. It's foolish to be out without Geto or Gojo or even Ijichi, but Geto had an errand he wanted you to run. Now that it was complete, you needed to return back to him. 
Except, you had no clue where he was. 
You were lost. You should have known this would happen. Why didn't you pay more attention to where you were going? This wasn't any old building. Dangerous men lurked around, even the weaker ones carried guns and weapons. 
It was only a matter of time before one of them caught you. 
"Hey. You." 
You were considered one of Geto's, but without him in sight, you were nothing. You knew that. It's why you cower immediately. 
"I'm busy," you speak quickly, "My boss, Mr. Geto, he's—" 
His hand is rough and scared and filthy on your skin. You are basically thrown against the wall, cornered against this stranger. He smiles. His teeth are yellowed and filled with tarter and plaque. 
"C'mon, there's no need to rush. 'Just wanna have some fun. How much?" Disgust rolls off your tongue, but you don't have the courage to reveal it. 
"I'm not like that," you mutter, "I'm not for sale." 
But, aren't you? You've sold yourself to Geto, haven't you? Underneath his thumb, his whims. What makes you so much different from a hooker?
"Sure." And then there's a shift in his eyes. His face scrunches up, like he's just tasted something sour. 
"Hold on...you're—you're that bastard's kid, aren't you?" 
He says your last name, the name your father gave you with so much spite that you nearly flinch. In that moment, you realized that your father had messed with a lot more people than just Geto. 
"Yeah yeah, you're a spitting fucking image!" He gripes you harsher. "Your daddy fucked me over while you're sitting over here nice and pretty? What the fuck?" 
He's dead. He's dead and you hadn't spoken to him in over a decade, but his ghost still wants to punish you for being his kin. And this man is his executioner. 
You're expecting something violent. Something that hurt more than his hand's squeezing your bicep. Perhaps he was, perhaps he would. Unfortunately, for him, Gojo interupted his plans. 
You didn't even know that it was him, at first, on the floor, on top of the man. Gojo, despite his hungry smile, eager eyes, was always so angelic. He isn't supposed to be using his hands. He isn't supposed to inflict violence, not by himself. 
He's punching him. The man isn't a man anymore, reduced to a mere punching back. Gojo doesn't stop until he breaks skin. He doesn't stop until you can hear a distinct crack. 
Satoru doesn't stop until Suguru tells him to. 
"Don't kill him." Geto warns. "It'd breach the agreement." 
You can feel his presence, always silent, never revealing himself until he wants to be known. So unlike Gojo, who is hungry for even a second of attention. More than happy to spill blood over it.
Gojo grits his teeth, as though he's debating to even listen. He stands up eventually, chest heaving. His knuckles are caked in blood. It's not his. His glasses are off. His eyes are blown wide open like he's just hit the greatest high of his life. Geto calmly hands him a clean towel. You don’t want to know how many times this situation has repeated.
"Who gives a shit." Gojo bites out, his eyes , trailing to you, and you flinch away. He looks like a wild animal, growling and spitting. You don’t want to be next on his plate. Geto steps in front of you, barricading you from his sight.
The man on the ground had recovered enough to pathetically crawl away. It such a stark change to how he was just a few minutes ago, when he was lording over you, drunk off of his power. 
Gojo steps on his calf. The broken thing gives a strangled scream. It only makes Gojo’s manic grin wider.
"Let him go. You made your point," Geto says, "calm down." 
Firey blue eyes. Bright and violent. You don’t know how Suguru is able to withstand the intensity. Even you’re wilting when it’s not even directed towards you.
"Calm down?” Satoru asks. “You want me to calm down? Did you see what that bastard was gonna do to our—" 
"Satoru." You've never heard Geto use this tone before. "Not here. Not now." 
A silent battle warred between them. Tanzanite bore into amethyst. Which gem would rupture first, splinter into defeat? 
Eventually, Gojo looks away, cursing. He glares down at you, as though he were blaming your weakness of all things. In a way, he’s not wrong to.
"I'll wait outside." 
And then he's gone, striding down the corridor. Geto watches him go, before glancing down at you. 
"Did he hurt you?" He asks. 
You're not supposed to lie to him. You nod. 
Geto pulls on your sleeves until he can see the imprints. Light bruising, nothing too horrible. You'll survive. Geto looks less than pleased. He glances down at the remnants of the man, the imprints of blood on the floor. You pitied the person who'd have to clean it up. 
"I apologize, dear." He sighs. "I should have kept an eye on you." 
He stares at the blood some more. Then, he smiles. 
"Perhaps, it's better if I just let things run its course, this time." 
You blink at him. He ignores your silent question. Instead, he wraps his arm around your shoulders, gently leading you outside. The car is already running. This time, Geto silently ushers you into the passenger seat. You take it immediately. Gojo hadn't taken his eyes off of you. You're grateful for any barrier. 
This time, the car ride was silent. You don't relish in it. If anything, it just feels like the calm before the storm.
Soon, what Geto was talking about became apparent. 
The man who had nearly been killed by Gojo had talked. You don't know what your father did to these men, perhaps you never will, but they didn't let you forget his crimes. If they couldn't get to him, then clearly, his kid was the next best option. You know it was them. It would be no one else. 
Someone broke into your apartment one weekend. Everything was ruined. The TV was shattered and broken. Your mattress was tossed onto the floor. Every plate, cup, and bowl was smashed onto the floor. They took nothing, but they broke everything. 
You hadn't been home that night. Ijichi needed more work from you. If you had, if you had come home that night, alone, locked the door, slept in that bed, then what would have—
Geto finds you on the stairs of your apartment, curled into a ball. You watch with bloodshot eyes as he observes the damage, clicking his tongue. He doesn't look particularly shocked.
You do nothing when you feel his hand on your shoulder, brushing against the sleeves, a feign of sympathy. You don't even care to ask how he came even though you never called him. Geto has a keen sense for you. 
"It'll get worse." His voice comes. Soft, and sure. 
Yeah, you knew that. You'd been naive, following after Geto with wide eyes. You thought that if he was untouchable, then so were you. 
He speaks about an enemy group, people with debts with your father, just as he did. Of course, he knows who did this to you. You’d be more surprised if he didn’t.
You don’t care. His words go in one ear and out the other. The reasons don’t matter. Your home is still destroyed. It’s no longer yours.
"They got my phone, too," you mention to your discarded cell phone. "My emails, messages." 
You're trapped, with nowhere else to turn. All the doors are shut and bolted, and only one remains open. 
You turn to the devil. 
"Can you...help?" 
The angler fish uses its darkened habitat to its advantage. Hundreds of miles beneath the water's surface, it produces its own light as an olfactory bulb. It's an excellent predator, swinging its bio lantern around in the dark sea, the only light around for miles. 
Geto tilts his head, a smile on perfect pink lips. 
"You want my protection? It's a steep price, darling." 
You feel like an empty well, forced to give and give until you're all dried up. Who could be so greedy? Who could be so willing to take?
"I've given you everything." It's barely a whisper. "What else do I have left to offer?" 
He doesn't say anything to that, not at first. Geto kneels in front of you, a slender hand lifting your head up by the chin. Fingers trail down to your neck. Not choking, just holding. His thumb lightly presses into your throat. 
"Not everything," Suguru says quietly. 
He's right. You hadn't given him everything. So far, you have always been one of Geto's people. You were Geto's employee. You were indebted to him, but you weren't conquered by him. 
Not yet. 
He's kneeling in front of you, holding your soul in his hands and demanding for your heart. In a way, you find it a bit funny. You just don’t have the will to laugh anymore.
He's smiling again when he can tell you're finally starting to understand. "We couldn't have been that subtle, were we? Satoru never failed to express, at the very least." 
No, they never tried to hide it. Even in the beginning, when you first met Suguru, you saw the hunger. You just tried to ignore it. You tried to keep your head in the sand, hoping it would pass. It makes you wonder if you had just agreed on that very night, led him into your bed, and bared it, would things have been different? 
"I can leave. We can pretend this never happened," he coos, "it's all up to you, sweetheart." 
He's making it seem like you had a choice. In a way, you did. You're choosing between two monsters. A known and an unknown. It takes longer than you'd like to figure out which one scares you more. 
You take the bait. The angler fish siezes its prey. 
"One night?" You're trying not to beg but it's coming out anyway. "Just—just one night?" 
Geto leans forward, pressing a kiss on your forehead. It’s not an answer.
Despite the many months you've worked with him, you've never been to his home before. 
It's not a house. A villa maybe. The property stretches itself stretches for miles. Filthy rich. Bleeding gold. 
Geto—
("Suguru," he corrected you in the car, "considering this isn't really business, anymore.") 
—had ushered you throw a double-door entrance. You couldn't even admire the architecture. Not when Gojo was already standing there. His eyes were hidden away, tucked underneath his glasses, but you still felt his stare. And all too wide smile stretched on his lips. He greeted Suguru with a kiss. For the first time, you looked down at their hands. 
Matching rings. 
You felt sick. 
'It's all up to you, sweetheart' Suguru's voice rings through your head all through a dinner that's really nothing but a flimsy padding for the rest of the night. Food was served, wine was poured, all in a bid to ease you into it. As of right now, it's still your 'choice'. You know, without a doubt, if you backed out now, they'd let you go without a fuss. Suguru or Satoru themselves might drive you home. You'd crawl into bed without a scratch.
But you don't. You stare at your plate, picking at it when they ask questions. Satoru's in such a good mood he offers to feed you. 
It's mostly because it doesn't feel real yet. You feel like you're watching yourself go through the movements. Eat. Speak when spoken to. Smile when prompted. Empty. 
You only come back when you're standing in their room, and the door locks with a click. 
The window blinds are drawn, but there's no light to seep in. The moon is already out. You wonder how many hours you've already spent here. 
You take another step towards the bed. Then, you turn around. 
Satoru and Suguru stare right back. You feel their heavy gazes immediately, flicking your eyes down to your feet, playing with your sleeves. 
Satoru laughs, perceiving the terror as shyness, or maybe he doesn't care. He steps forward first. 
"Don't be like that." He lightly chastises you, tucking one arm around your waist. "We'll be nice. Promise, baby. We're gonna be so so good for you." 
He finds your lips, then. Satoru kisses like the sun, all fire and passion. Sinking into you, wanting to melt. It's impossible to turn away and ignore his presence. He gropes at your chest, your waist, trying to feel all of you at once. When he finally lets go, you feel dizzy. 
Suguru's kisses ground you, makes remember where you are, who you're with. He's like the Earth you're crashing back into from your high. You hurdle through the atmosphere as his hands grasp at your throat. He never squeezes, but it's more than enough to sober you. 
"You smell so nice, baby," Satoru says from his place at your neck. You flinch when teeth sink into your sink, but you don't complain. 
"That's creepy, Satoru." Suguru chastizes him.
Serpentine eyes stare into yours. You don’t get the chance to hide before you feel his breath on your cheek. Suguru tugs at the hem of your dress.
“Take this off.” He whispers into your skin. “And get on the bed for us, sweetheart.”
This is the lesser monster. It’s a mantra you repeat in your head as you pliantly nod, hesitantly gripping the fabric of your dress. It’s horrifically easy to take it off and let it drop by your feet. You can’t bear to look at them anymore.
The soft duvet sinks under your weight. It looks expensive. Silky pillows. On either side is a nightstand covered with trinkets and personal items. You spot one of Suguru’s shirts on the floor, and it takes you a second to realize this is their room, not an impersonal guest room they use to fuck the less fortunate.
They stop paying attention to you. Satoru moans loudly into Suguru’s mouth. Suguru fiddles with the buttons on Satoru’s shirt, close to ripping it off entirely. Satoru palms at the tent in his pants as he unbuckles his pants. Suguru loosens his tie. They’re so violent with each other. Dread soaks through your palms, and you curl even further within yourself. You prayed this was all they wanted from you—someone to just watch, someone less interactive.
It’s not. When they pull away, their lips are swollen. Satoru leers at you, licking at his busted lip. You can’t seem to cry anymore.
They’re both half-naked. You can see the tattoos spread on Suguru’s hand, crawling up to his shoulder. Another peeks just behind Satoru’s neck. You only get a glimpse before he’s on top of you, eager for a continuation.
“Shit, you’re so soft.” He hisses as he squeezes your bra-covered breast. It doesn’t stay on for long. You wince when his fingers trace over your sensitive tits.
Your hands squeeze into fists, because you choose this, choose them. Satoru’s more than happy to sink into your breasts. His warm tongue swirls around a nipple before fully taking it in his mouth.
“Like a baby,” Suguru says. Satoru scoffs, tossing him an impressed look.
“Shut up.” Satoru releases your breast with a wet-sounding pop. They’ll be marks there tomorrow.
His fingers trail down your breasts, your ribs, your stomach. They linger on the band of your panties.
You can’t help it. It’s instinct.
He freezes when your fingers snap around his wrist. There’s no strength behind your grip, he pauses more out of surprise than anything.
His eyes, filled with hardened tanzanite, shoot up to yours. You think, if they’d be anyone else’s, you would have envied them.
He doesn’t say anything. Neither does Suguru. The silence is crushing.
“Sorry.” You feel pathetic apologizing, but it’s outweighed by the fear. “I—I’m sorry. I was just—”
“It’s okay, dear,” Suguru coos. “Satoru just scared you, hm? He’s such an idiot, isn’t he?” He violently smacks Satoru on the head. You flinch at the sound. Satoru just whines, rubbing at his temple.
“Mean.” Satoru childishly says, but he’s slower now, rolling down the hem of your panties.
Suguru is quick to distract you. He’s busy with his own bottoms before he’s taking you by the chin.
His cock is already leaking precum. He’s big, and you don’t think you’ll be able to do want he wants. Suguru smiles down at you, he doesn’t need to say anything. You’re swallowing down your self-hatred before opening your mouth.
You take him in just when Satoru buries his face between your thighs. The two of you have very different reacts. Satoru just hums, finding your clit to lick. You gasp, your legs jolting as you accidentally take Suguru even deeper.
He’s nice enough to let you go at your own pace. There’s a hand on your head, petting you, easing you through the process. Even then, your mouth is stretched uncomfortably wide. Tears prick at your eyes. Suguru’s face gets blurry. You don’t think you want to look anymore.
Below you, Satoru is enjoying his meal. He’s slobbering on your pussy, eating you out like it’s his last meal. His hot tongue finds his way into your sopping hole. You squeeze your eyes, a muffled whine comes from your mouth. The only loss of control Suguru shows was how he ever-so-slightly gripped your head.
By then, you’re unintentionally squeezing Satoru’s head in between your thighs. It’s so much. Pleasure tingles up your spine as Satoru continues to worship your pussy. His nose grinds into your clit and, for a moment, you’re wondering how he’s even breathing.
Suguru’s close. You can feel it every time his balls slap your chin. He’s speaking now, words stilted and heavy. It’s the only hint you get that he’s only holding his control by his teeth. That thought scares you. At any moment he’d snap, choking you with his cock, let you suffocate while he fills your dying mouth with his cum.
“Good,” he’s hissing out, “so good—good for me. C’mon, baby, take it.”
Satoru’s hand squeezes your ass, urging you to arch off the bed. You come like that, pressing your thighs around Satoru’s head, moaning around Suguru’s dick.
Suguru barely gives a grunt before something salty fills your mouth. You have to swallow it down. It burns your throat.
The air tastes sweet by the time Suguru’s cock leaves your mouth. You’re sucking in deep breaths, breasts heaving. Incidentally, you hadn’t suffocated Satoru. He’s kissing his way up your body. A trickle of Suguru’s cum had escaped your lips. His tongue presses against your chin before he pushes it back into your mouth. You can taste your tangy essence on his lips.
“Gotta’ swallow it all,” Satoru says with a teasing lilt, “he gets mad when it’s wasted.”
You can only nod. He gives you another wet kiss before he pulls away.
They switch places, Suguru moving over until he’s between your thighs. His large cock lays on your cunt. He’s still hard, his cock twitches when he angles his hips down, letting the head run over your leaking slit.
“The only reason he's going first is ‘cuz he’s been pining for you for months.” Satoru murmurs into your ear. Strangely enough, Suguru doesn’t comment. Your brain can’t work fast enough to comprehend what that means.
You hold your breath just as he presses himself inside. You’re almost grateful Satoru took the time to prepare you. His salivia, and your stretched walls make it easier for Suguru to bury his length inside you.
It doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. You hiss. Satoru feels enough sympathy to coo at you, kissing your neck, trying to distract you from the pain. It doesn't help, not even when Suguru presses light circles into your clit, easing his way through.
Suguru’s giving a harsh laugh when he’s fully seated inside, his hips meeting yours.
“Feel good, hm?” Satoru goads, reaching up to nibble on Suguru’s ear.
“Shit, so tight—fuck.”
Your hips twitch and you’re clenching down on him. Suguru doubles over, gritting his teeth.
“Oh, darling.” Scarred hands grasp your neck. “I’m going to ruin you, aren’t I?”
Your bottom lip wobbles. He’s eyeing you like a piece of meat. A gazelle in the lion’s den. To them, to men like them, you suppose you’re nothing more.
“Suguru.” You whisper because your voice is failing you. “You-you promised you’d be nice.”
Silence. And he’s laughing so hard his shoulders shake. They both are.
“We did promise that, didn’t we?” Suguru glances at Satoru. “Next time, then.”
He pulls his cock out of you slowly, dragging his head through your cunt. He’s so slow and deliberate that you think it’d feel better if he just went ahead and fucked you already.
And he was, technically. His hips rolled back into you, his cock disappearing inside your wet pussy with each thrust. It’s so much that you’re willingly arching your back, trying to do anything to alleviate the intensity.
Beside you, Satoru is pulling out his cock, his eyes never leaving the lewd sight of Suguru fucking himself into you.
“Fuck fuck fuck,” he’s cursing under his breath, fisting his cocl in one hand, “so fuckin’ hot.”
Suguru growls, grabbing Satoru’s stiff cock, crudely pumping his hand up and down. His movement are getting more erratic losing his pace, his patience. You’re at your end too, almost crying when someone squeezes your sensitive tits.
“How does it feel, darling?” Suguru asks with a ragged breath. His eyes are blown, you don’t even think he’s looking at you, anymore.
When you don't give an answer fast enough, Suguru snaps his hips punishingly in response. You give a sharp wail.
“I said.” Suguru hisses through his teeth. “Tell me how it feels.”
You can barely suck in a breath. You’re losing oxygen too fast.
But you’ll die if he keeps doing this.
“Good.” You tell the truth. “It—it feels good, Suguru.”
He grins, serpentine. You’ve lost a game you didn’t even know you were playing. His fingers descend on your clit.
“That’s my perfect darling.”
You sob when your walls clench around his cock, milking him dry. Your orgasm triggers his own. He curses, and something is spilled into your used cunt. Out the corner of your eye, Suguru and Satoru are kissing, going together like rabid dogs. Satoru shudders, and then all three of you are a panting mess.
You take in deep breaths, barely caring when Suguru lets out an exhausted laugh, collapsing into your chest. He licks at your sweaty skin. You just sink your head further into the pillows
It was over. It was finally over.
“You got it everywhere.” Suguru suddenly says, disgusted. He wipes Satoru’s cum off your stomach.
Satoru just snorts.
“I didn’t have a hole to dump it all in.” He snarks back. “Twice, by the way. So selfish, Sugu.”
“Quit whining.” Suguru groans. “You have your chance now, don’t you?”
What? Exhaustion blinks away.
Suguru stays by your side. Gojo is the one moving, rising from the blankets. He places his hands on either side of your hips, spreading your legs.
Geto catches your panic, easily catching you before you can even do anything. He hushes you while Satoru settles himself between your thighs, his cock pressing right at your slit.
“The night’s still young, dear.” He sounds almost sympathetic. “Be good for just a bit longer.”
By the time they’re finally done with you, it’d been hours. You can’t count how many positions they put you in, how many times your holes were filled by their cocks or their fingers or their mouths. You’re barely coherent by the time Suguru is tucking you under the soft duvet.
You feel sore and used and dirty. His soft words, filled with praises, just make you feel worse. Despite how exhausted you feel, you’re just waiting until they finally get bored of seeing your body and kick you out.
You’ll call a cab home. You’ll cry yourself to sleep. You’ll be okay.
They’re taking a while to get to that part. They’re mumbling soft words too each other, it sounds too intimate to be something you should be overhearing. Satoru’s at your back, hands curling around your waist, another brushing Suguru’s mussed hair. You can feel his soft breath at the nape of your neck.
Suguru’s eyes are on you. Amethyst watches you intently.
"Satoru,” he finally says, “go uphold our end of the deal." 
Gojo groans, annoyed. He snuggles closer to you. "Why me? You go do it." 
An adoring smile crinkles on Suguru’s lips. It makes him look younger.
"Because I don't trust you alone with this one for the night. Go."
“Ass.”
He sighs, but Gojo sits up, letting the covers shift off his naked body. 
"Stay right here for me, baby, 'kay?" He leans over, pressing a delicate kiss on your hairline. Despite everything that happened tonight, this was the most intimate thing he'd done to you. It's too...loving.
When Satoru leaves, you wait for a few moments. Suguru had yet to tell you to go. It probably meant that he didn’t want to waste his breath dismissing you. You take the hint, rising from the bed.
His fingers snap around you wrist just as your feet touch the floor.
“Where are you going?” His voice doesn’t sound accusatory, but you flinch anyway.
A wobbly smile makes its way across your face, you hope it comes across as submissive. Weren’t you done? The deal was made, that meant you could leave now, right?
"I—I need to go home?" Suguru gives a doting smile, as though you said something adoringly naive. He barely pulls on your hand, gently leading you back under the covers.
You follow because the gun glints by the nightstand. 
“Is that the best idea right now, dear?” He asks, “Who knows if those men have come back? I’d hate to see them find their target, wouldn’t you?”
He draws you into his chest. Your head is tucked underneath his chin.
“And besides, Satoru will be disappointed if you left without saying goodbye. It’d be horrible to deal with one of his tantrums so late at night.”
He buries his face into your hair, inhaling your scent.
“Why don’t you leave in the morning? I’ll be sure to drive you back myself. By then, I’m sure Satoru will have made the proper arrangements. Don’t tell him I told you this, but—” Suguru drops his voice as though he’s scared someone might overhear”—he tends to be more efficient when you’re in the picture.”
You don’t know what he means by that, and you don’t think you want to know. Still, you lift your head, finding the courage to stare at him.
His eyes are such a beautiful color. Glittering purple in the moonlight. You’d stare at them all night if you could.
“I can leave in the morning?”
Suguru hums, kissing your forehead.
It’s not an answer.
2K notes · View notes
pernesophe · 4 months ago
Text
Wind Breaker Boys x Touch Starved Reader
(Minors, Ageless and Blank Blogs DNI)
Synopsis: How the Wind Breaker boys would handle a touch averse / touch starved S/O.
Characters in this post (they're 18+ for this post) MDNI:
Togame Jo (TW: suggestive / smut - kind of poetic?, comfort, fluff)
Endo Yamato (TW: smut, comfort, fluff)
Takiishi Chika (TW: smut - kind of poetic?, comfort, fluff, violence (minimal))
Master List (I have no rights to these characters, the works they come from, or the art/screenshots/manga panels used in this post)
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Togame Jo
(~1862 wc)
Togame and you have freshly started dating, but he swiftly figured out on his own how adverse you are to physical touch when he first met you and stepped a little too close for comfort. Immediately, you had tensed up and Togame took a step back, thinking his stature had scared you, but you relaxed right away and continued the amiable conversation with him. Togame was really enamored with you from the start, so even though you never said anything he made sure to be extra cautious while getting to know you, and once the two of you started dating, to not cross any boundaries.
By the end of the first month from when your relationship began, you start to wonder why Togame hasn’t tried to take your relationship to the next level. Pretty soon thereafter, you come to the realization that he hasn’t been taking your relationship further because of you. 
A month or so into the relationship, making your way to Ori to meet him for lunch, when you are grabbed by a group of delinquents. You’re lucky that you were close enough to Ori for Togame to hear you scream as one of the guys grabs you roughly by the arm and drags you into an alley where he crowds you against a wall. Immediately freeze and tense up - trying to make yourself smaller by pressing your back into the wall. The other three stand at the mouth of the alley to block you from the view of any passerbyers. 
Before it can go any further, Togame rounds the corner at a sprint and tackles two of the guys at once - swiftly knocking them out on the ground - and then turns to punch the other one who was still blocking the alley. Unfortunately he was ready as he punches Togame squarely in the face, but your boyfriend isn’t treating this like a run of the mill street fight. Barely fazed by the fist connected to his jaw, Togame grabs the guy around the torso and swings him up in the air before throwing him on the ground like a basketball. The thug bounces a couple of times before he settles there unconscious.
At this point, the one crowding you against the wall has pulled you in front of him and was brandishing a knife to your throat, but Togame is staring at your terrified expression and the endless stream of tears falling down your cheeks. You’ve never seen this look on Togame’s face before - he looks like he’s ready to murder the man, and you half believed he would too. With one step forward, Togame reaches out and grabs the man’s hand that is holding the knife. As he does, you hear the bones cracking in his hand just before your boyfriend grabs the man’s face and rips him off of you like he was tearing tissue paper away from a precious gift. The man is unconscious before he even hits the ground, leaving you and Togame in the alley under a thick veil of silence. 
Slowly, he turns to you with a concerned expression etched into his face, “Are you hurt?” Whispering to you as if you’re a wounded animal, but you quickly shake your head no at him. ”Are you okay?” Posing the question with his brows raised high as even more concern bleeds into his voice.
”Mhm!” Humming with a firm nod as you quickly wipe your tears on your sleeves, but as you look up you see Togame reaching for you and then stop himself short - deciding not to altogether. He doesn’t notice you looking though as he shoots you a gentle smile.
”Wanna go back to my place and chill out for a bit? I can order take out,” offering as he tilts his head towards the mouth of the alley. Nodding quickly as you fall in stride with him - heading towards his home side by side. Along the way you notice that Togame is fidgety - almost nervous - like he had done something wrong. Occasionally his vibrant green eyes would drift down towards you only to see you staring at him curiously, and he’d quickly look away.
Once the two of you are back at his house, and he’s sitting on the couch, you go and grab the first aid kit before silently coming to stand in between his legs. Togame has his head leaning against the back of the couch with his eyes closed so he doesn’t notice you come up.
“Um, Jo?” murmuring quietly, and he sits up - a little surprised - to see you standing in his space, something you rarely do unless the two of you are in a crowded place. “Can I clean you up?” Requesting gently, and he just stares at you for a beat before nodding dumbly. 
Some of the Shishitoren guys who also had girlfriends thought it was weird that you never bandaged Togame up like their partners would offer to do for them. Togame never let them say anything to you about it though, and never asked you to, because he never wanted to put you in an uncomfortable position.
So, he sat in complete silence - totally still - as he studied your face with intrigued green eyes while you gingerly cleaned his face and hands before bandaging his knuckles. Neither of you speak whatsoever, and when you’re finished you meet his vibrant green orbs with yours which were filled with so many unspoken things. Togame tries not to feel disappointed as you pack up the kit and take it back to the kitchen, but he can’t help but lean his head back and sigh as he closes his eyes again.
”Jo?” Your timid voice jolts him upright again to find you standing where you were just a few moments ago, hands clasped behind your back as you peer down at him. He’s dead silent as you lean closer until the ends of your hair fall forward and brush his chest, your faces only inches apart. Togame gulps loudly.
”I think you’ve already realized that I don’t really enjoy being touched…” he slowly nods at your words. “...but you are allowed to touch me, because I think I would enjoy that.” Explaining in that same soft tone with an urging edge to it now. Togame blinks up at you rapidly, swallowing thickly, before reaching out and wrapping his arms around you before pulling you down into his lap, flush against his chest. 
Without hesitation, he buries his nose in your hair and inhales your scent as he squeezes you even tighter into him. After a moment, he hears you sniffling and he immediately releases you and cups your face to make you look at him.
”Did I hurt you?!” Crying out quietly to you as his vibrant eyes fill with worry.
”N-no!” Laughing out as you shake your head at him, despite your tear stained cheeks, “i-it feels good. Overwhelming, but good.” You explain slowly to him with a small, reassuring smile. Slowly, he nods as he brings his arms down to his sides. “I just didn’t get this a lot growing up, so I didn’t even know I, like… really needed it y’know?” You try to explain in a calm tone as tears continue spilling down your cheeks. A notch forms in his brow as he processes what you’re saying, but slowly he nods again.
”Do you want me to…” he trails off as he holds his arms out lightly around you again, and you quickly nod and lean into his chest again as he squeezes you tightly against him. Eventually, Togame asks if you wanna lay down on the couch, and you happily nod. He spoons you after he puts something funny on the TV in the background, and after a short while you feel something growing hard against your back. You don’t mention it, but every so often you squirm a little closer to him - wiggling your hips when you do - until Togame releases a low groan.
”Y/N, I’m not sure if you know what you’re doing, but you’re driving me insane… please,” voice pleading as he pulls you closer to his chest and lays a wide, heavy palm on your hip to halt any further movements. Giggling softly, you throw a mischievous look over your shoulder at him before deliberately rolling your hips back into him. Letting out a frustrated sigh as his breath fans along your cheek as he slowly rolls his hips to grind against you while burying his face in your shoulder. Togame felt like his control was a string flying in the wind as it fluttered from his grasp only to just barely catch it before it flew away completely, but still, he somehow maintained his agonizingly slow pace.
”Jo,” moaning out softly as you caress your fingertips along his bicep causing him to pause in his movements and pull his head up to look at your flushed face. His breathing slightly elevated. “I want more… is that okay?” Asking so timidly, eyes half lidded as you peer up at him.
His jaw tightens and then relaxes before he gulps loudly. “Ye-yeah, but are you sure?” Asking, so very seriously before you nod up at him earnestly. 
”Mhm! I trust you Jo,” whispering softly to him and with that the string, and any restraint he had, was flying away in the breeze. Togame’s stature was much more substantial than yours, so even though you were now stark naked - you were securely covered by his warm, hardened body. The pressure was a lot, but felt so comforting as he ghosted a hand along your thigh that is flush against his hip. 
Letting Togame feel you… Feeling Togame… It was like a humid spring morning. As soon as the sun burned away the mist it would become hot and wet, but right now it was still cool despite the dampness clinging to your skin. The moon was still high up in the sky as Togame’s lips ghosted over your dewy skin - his tongue poking out to swipe along your collarbone. The sun’s rays have only just begun clearing away the mist when the pressure subsided as Togame pressed open mouthed kisses over your hip. His tongue eagerly searches for the dew that’s collected in between your thighs. His name and little whines tumble from your lips like the birds announcing the rising sun, and only after they subsided did he finally return to you. The moon disappeared from the sky as the sun hung high above in its place now.
After this day, you are still averse to physical touch, but never from Togame. Actually, much to the rest of Shishitoren’s surprise, you were quite clingy with Togame: always holding his hand and wrapping your other around his bicep whenever you could, often sitting in his lap when it was appropriate, greeting him with a warm hug where you bury your face into his chest and inhale him deeply. Of course - now - you always clean and bandage Togame up after a fight while he studies your calm expression with rapt interest every time - just like he did the first time.
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Endo Yamato
(~2378 wc)
Endo is much more touchy feely with you than you are with him, and even though you tense up often when he initiates physical contact - he doesn’t shy away from you or let go of you unless you tell him directly that you feel uncomfortable. Whenever this does happen, he just smiles at you and nods while giving you a little personal space. It’s a little bit of a possessive thing - you both frequent the Red Light District and he wants those around you to know that you’re his - but also from the moment you met he got the sense that you want to be touched but just don’t know how to ask.
You had gone to him for your first tattoo, which is when he first touched you and you had tensed up so bad under the needle that he sighed out, “Y’know this is gonna be absolute hell if you don’t relax, right?” His brow arched with annoyance, and you quickly nodded in embarrassment.
Screwing your eyes shut, you took a deep breath before willing your body to relax. You had managed to stay relaxed, and still without wincing once - though at times your body shook from just laying on the table that long - but you never asked for a break. Endo honestly was impressed at how well you handled the pain versus one gentle touch from his hand.
Before you left, you asked him about the healing process and if it would be considerably raised off the skin after healing. He explained that it kind of would, but not a ton and offered to let you feel one of his tattoos for reference. You had hesitated when he held out his arm before hovering your fingertips above the inked skin, even peering back up at him with a small notch in your brow as if to ask, ‘are you sure it’s okay’. A wide grin spread over his face at your hesitation and big doe eyes - as if you were worried you would hurt him.
”It’s fine, go ahead.” He encouraged you with a laugh, even raising his arm so he brushed your fingertips with it, and with that you oh so gently caressed the inky black lines as your eyes lit up at the new experience. After you left that day, Endo thought about you extensively - much to Takiishi’s distaste, until the next time you showed up and his fiery haired companion realized that whatever Endo saw in you was just different from himself.
A few months later, you had timidly ended up in Endo’s shop for another tattoo, to which he immediately asked to see his work and how it healed. When you showed it to him he complimented you on how well taken care of it is as he ghosted his hand over the inked skin. This time you shivered, and didn’t tense at all for him. This appointment went by much more smoothly than the last time, but before you left Endo gave you his number and told you to contact him directly for your next tattoo rather than walk in - so he can brainstorm the design with you more. Gratefully, you nodded and took his contact info.
The next time you messaged him about a tattoo, he insisted on meeting you somewhere for coffee while discussing it. He made sure to sit as close to you as possible as you watched him sketch out a few designs - his bicep brushing your arm, and thigh touching your leg the whole time. At first, you tensed, but Endo didn’t move away, and after a few minutes you relaxed and even leaned into him to get a better look at the design. 
After that you started hanging out with Endo and Takiishi outside of your tattoo appointments, though it was obvious you were solely there for Endo - you and Takiishi got along well enough. For a while your relationship with Endo was unclear because he never officially asked you out. Takiishi was actually the one to clarify the status for you both when one day you were walking with them when someone they knew asked who you were. Before you or Endo could say anything, Takiishi - with the flattest affect - said, “That’s Endo’s girl. Make sure nobody messes with her.” It shocked both of you that he would go as far to say that, but also that he was able to clock your relationship status well before you were able to.
Finally, maybe 6 months after being deemed official, the two of you are chilling at his shop after he closed up for the day. Endo sits down right next to you and then turns to you without warning before scooping you into his lap where holds you as he lets his hands wander lightly over your back and thighs.
“E-Endo, what’re you-” Murmuring in a bewildered tone, but he silences you with one heated look from his cobalt eyes.
”Impatient.” He answers simply, to which your eyebrows furrow - deeply perplexed. “I’m impatient, because I think that you actually really want this, but you can’t bring yourself to admit it,” posing his dilemma to you with a tilt of his head. Gulping loudly as you quickly avert your gaze, but he reaches up and gently grabs you by the jaw and makes you look at him.
”If it’s not clear by now, I want to give you what you want, but I can’t do that if you won’t tell me what it is,” he explains in a slightly gentler, yet urging tone this time. After a pregnant pause you swallow thickly as you nod at him.
”I-I do… want this, but, um… I have no experience, and I’m awkward, and I tense up when I’m touched cause I’m not used to it and all of that seems really not attractive,” whispering softly as a blush creeps over your face. Endo releases your jaw only to wrap his arms tightly around you and pull you flush to his chest as he throws his head back to let out a boisterous laugh.
”Do you think I wasn't aware of that?” Asking with a slight rib to his tone after his laughter died down before sitting up to meet your gaze again. “I love your awkward, inexperienced self and not once have I thought you were ‘not attractive’ because of it, or the fact that you tense up when you’re touched. It doesn’t mean you’re untouchable,” he assures you through a lighthearted chuckle. Not knowing the effect those words would have on you, Endo is shocked to see you crumble and bury your face in his neck as you start to sob.
”Shit-fuck! What’d I say wrong?” Demanding with a voice filled with worry as he starts rubbing your back soothingly.
”No-nothing,” you warble out as you wrap your arms tightly around his neck. Stunned, Endo just reaches up and holds the back of your head while his other arm is braced around your back to hold you firmly. “Yo-you really think I’m touchable?” Murmuring in such a soft voice that absolutely bleeds vulnerability. Endo’s heart twists at the pain in your voice, and the unspoken sentiment that you really thought you were untouchable.
”Yeah, I really, really do.” Whispering into your hair and you just bury your face more into his neck. After a long, long while - once your sobbing subsides and it’s just the sound of you two breathing - Endo breaks the silence. ”Do you want me to show you just how touchable you are?” The question wrapped in cautious hesitation  - prepared for you to say no, but instead you slowly lean away from him so you can meet his gaze. 
”I do,” Murmuring softly as you nod - your eyes gazing pleadingly into his fiery, cobalt ones.
Endo smiles gently at you before maneuvering you onto your back on the couch with him laying in between your legs. He starts by placing chaste kisses all over your face before finally settling on your lips. Slow in his touches at first - deliberate in feeling you - and then his mouth becomes hungry. Nipping at your bottom lip until you part your lips so he can slip his tongue in your mouth and caress your wet muscle with his. As he worked his mouth over yours, his hands slowly mapped out your supple curves and dips as they roamed across your body eagerly.
Breaking from the kiss so you can swallow some air doesn’t slow Endo’s movements as he redirects his lips to your jawline, down the column of your neck, over your collarbones and coming to a stop at your now bare chest. In the whirlwind of kissing and hands, you had barely noticed that Endo had expertly stripped you down to your panties. Squeezing one of your breasts with a wide, rough palm as he brings his lips to the other and wraps them around your pert nipple.
While working his hand and mouth over your breasts, he begins slowly rolling his hips into yours causing a delicious friction you’ve never felt before. Once your breathing is uneven and you keep whining with your fingers carded through Endo’s hair, he finally releases your breasts and places open mouthed kisses down to your drenched panties. Peeling them off of you, he then litters kisses and gentle nips all over your thighs before settling in to absolutely devour your dripping core. Between his tongue and long, thick fingers - you’re struck with rolling orgasms that send euphoric shocks to your nerve endings until he comes up for air. Licking your arousal from his lips and fingers with a satisfied smile curling his lips as he crawled back up to you.
”I think you get the idea, though I haven’t done nearly everything I wanted to yet.” Musing softly as he settles in next to you and pulls you into his arms. The two of you lay like that in the quiet of his shop until you get your bearings about you again.
Eventually, he takes you to the small back room that has a roll out bed roll that just barely fits the two of you, and then cleans you up before he lays you both down to cuddle. He suggests spooning, and you ask if you can be the big spoon so you can hide your face in his back - a tad embarrassed of all the new sounds you were making earlier. So that’s how the two of you are laid out - you curled into his back while tracing his tattoos as he relishes in your light touches.
Tracing your index fingertip along the one he has with Takishi - you suddenly ask, “you really love him don’t you?” A long pause passes before he hums as if he’s deep in thought.
“Yes, but more like art. I see a painting when I look at him, so it’s just hard not to admire him…” Endo muses softly without moving to look at you. Sitting up and folding your legs under you so you can look down at him, and he rolls on his back so you are in the crook of his arm flush with his side as he peers back up at you.
“If I were a piece of art - what would I be?” Asking innocently with a slight tilt of your head as you study his expression with curious eyes. A long moment passes as he really takes the time to consider the question. 
“A Tapestry.” He finally responds in an airy tone, and you brow furrows in question. 
“Why?” Breathing out softly as you lean a little closer - the tips of your hair brushing his chest - but he just stares up at the ceiling while he forms his answer. After a pregnant pause, he finally parts his lips to speak.
“Because a tapestry is made of all this beautiful material that needs to be processed and spun, and then it has to be handled to make the finished product. Bent every which way - every movement - every single touch was solely for utility. But the finished product is still moveable - like a thick blanket - none of the threads became stiff with all that abuse. When all is said and done though, the tapestry is just hung up on some wall - beautiful, and becoming even more beautiful with age due to how the thread may weather… but you’re not allowed to touch it anymore. I’ve always thought it was the cruelest way to treat a piece of art…” Releasing a sorrowful sigh as his blue eyes cut back to yours. “Because, really, if you just reached out and caressed it,” he squeezes you closer to him as his other hand drifts up your back before murmuring the rest, “then you would find it’s still so soft and comforting so many years after it was woven. Like she’s been silently begging to feel someone’s touch all this time.” Tears start to fall down your cheeks as his words hang in the air like incense smoke swirling around you. 
Wordlessly, he grabs you by the back of your head and pulls you down to lay on top of his chest while he presses chaste kisses onto the top of your head and lets you silently cry into him. The two of you stay like that for hours - you relishing in finally being able to lean on someone like this, and Endo just relishing in you. 
After this day, your relationship sees drastic changes - mostly from you. Firstly, you no longer shy away from Endo’s touches or him being in your space, in fact you lean into him now with a serene smile and big doe eyes trained on his joyful expression. Secondly, since that day, you’ve started reaching out to touch him - grabbing his hand to hold while you two are strolling about, asking if you can sit in his lap while he’s looking over tattoo designs, getting on your tip toes while gripping his bicep so you can plant a kiss on his cheek. The biggest development is that, whereas Endo always made you blush at the start of your relationship, now not a day goes by that you don’t make your boyfriend bright pink from your affections.
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Takiishi Chika
(~1988 wc)
How did you and Takiishi start dating? Well did you actually ever officially start? The two of you met when you were being hassled in the Red Light District while just trying to get to your tattoo appointment, and then this guy with long fiery red hair took them out in the blink of an eye.
You had tried to thank him, but he just ignored you - turning on his heel and kept walking. After shrugging it off, you went on your way - only the two of you were walking the same way. 
“Are you following me?” Eventually he whirls around to face you, and demands in an annoyed tone.
”Oh God no! I’m sorry - I think we’re actually just heading in the same direction…” murmuring timidly. When he just stares at you emotionlessly, you quickly add. “I’ll wait a few minutes and let you get ahead of me, so I’ll be out of your hair!” To which he just narrows his eyes at you and stares.
”That doesn’t help when I think you’re following me.” He states flatly.
”Right. Well, what do you want me to do?” Inquiring innocently with a tilt of your head as you waited for his instruction. At that, he furrowed his brow deeper at you.
”Where are you going?” He asked monotonically - expression bored.
”Uh, I have a tattoo appointment with this guy named Endo…” you answered quietly. At that, his face didn’t light up, but there was recognition there.
”I’m heading that way too. Come on,” he directed you, and you followed along without question. From there, you don’t know why, but Takishi took an interest in you if you could call it that. He more or less just wanted you around, and if you weren’t he wouldn’t get mad but he would ask where you’ve been and why he hasn’t seen you. Someone called you “Takiishi’s Girl” at some point, and the rest was history.
Regardless of him expecting your presence - he never really touched you. He does listen to you though - like the time Endo was telling you about his tattoo design for them, and your boyfriend (?) got annoyed and punched Endo. It was the first time you witnessed it, and it really bothered you. Endo laughed it off, but you looked at Takiishi so sadly with your hands clasped in front of you and whispered, “I really wanted to hear about your and Endo’s tattoo though…”
Endo almost laughed at you, but Takiishi just stared at you with a notch in his brow for a long moment - so long you thought he may be really angry with you - but instead his expression smoothed out and he just said “my bad,” and then asked Endo to tell you about it. Both, Endo and you were completely stunned, and you were worried you had done something wrong, but Takiishi never brought it up so you didn’t either. You don’t know if he stopped hitting Endo altogether, or just in front of you, but you were grateful for it - Endo seemed to be too.
After about 8 months of being in Takiishi’s world, and noticing that you were the only female he deigned to give any time to you start to wonder if you’re allowed to touch him. Testing the waters at first just by walking a little closer to him down the street, and sitting a little closer to him on the couch. Sometimes you’d stand a breath away from him in Endo’s shop and wonder if he hates it, doesn’t mind, or doesn’t notice at all.
One day, you miscalculate as you’re walking shoulder to shoulder with him - Takiishi barely sparing you a glance - when you trip over something in the street and tumble face forward towards the sidewalk. Before you crash on the pavement, you’re hoisted back to your feet by Takiishi in one fluid motion. Immediately you start apologizing for being so clumsy, but he just says, “don’t worry about it,” before he checks you over to make sure you aren’t hurt. Then he turns as if nothing happened and continues walking, but you walk a little farther from him than before just to be on the safe side. Throughout your walk, Takiishi drifts closer and closer to you until he’s shoulder to shoulder with you once again.
When the two of you get back to his place, he settles wordlessly on the couch while you change into some comfier clothes. The thing about Takiishi is - he’s never openly affectionate so you have to look for the signs. For example, he noticed that when you came over you would bring comfy clothes and sleepwear to hang out in, and it seemed like a hassle to him, so the next time you came over he told you to look in the bottom left drawer of his dresser. What you found was just a bunch of his clothes, so at first you said, “cool,” to which he rolled his eyes and said, “stop being a pack mule and wear those when you need something comfortable or something to sleep in. Leave your things in that drawer if you want.” It was so apathetic the way he said it, but the fact that he did it at all meant he was thinking about you.
When you come back to the living room, you sit close to him, but not touching as he puts on some action film in the background and mindlessly scrolls on his phone. Peering at him out of the corner of your eye, you think back on how the two of you met and how you ended up where you sit now - comfortably next to one of the most dangerous people in the area. And yet the only thing plaguing your mind is how to ask him to let you hold his hand.
  Suddenly, Takiishi looks at you straight on with those piercing amber eyes, making you jump as he asks, “Why’re you staring?”
”Um…” humming as your eyes widen under the intensity of his stare, and he narrows his eyes at you as he waits for your answer. “I want to hold your hand, but I don’t know how to ask,” blurting out before you look at your hands in your lap in embarrassment. Silence, except the sound of gunfire from the TV.
”So just hold my hand then,” he says with an undertone of exasperation. When you look over you see the back of his hand is now resting on his thigh - palm up and fingers outstretched for you. Hesitating only slightly, you reach out and take his hand. It’s warm and rough, you think to yourself with delight. Takiishi watches your face light up in triumph as you relax a bit more into the couch, and he can’t help the almost imperceivable laugh that puffs past his lips.
”What? Were you afraid or something?” Takiishi inquires, and when you look up at him you see a rare, amused smile curling his lips and a hue of adoration in his eyes.
”Um, well… not scared, just nervous?” Asking rhetorically before biting your bottom lip apprehensively.
”Why?” He scoffs out, genuinely curious causing you to laugh a little - forgetting your boyfriend isn’t scared or nervous about much.
”Be-because I guess I’m just not used to it…” explaining slowly and when he just cocks his head in question, you elaborate. “I mean - I just haven’t done a lot of this,” you hold up his hand in yours, “or anything else… and I don’t know - I want to - but I don’t know how to initiate things, and sometimes it doesn’t seem like you’re interested so… I guess I get a little worried you wouldn’t want to do this with me…” Trailing off quietly as you start to cower under his unblinking gaze. Another long beat of silence passes barring the gunfire and Takiishi’s deafening stare.
”You thought I wouldn’t want to hold your hand?” He asks in discernable disbelief. Brow creasing as he thought back to catching you after you tripped earlier and how satisfying your soft curves felt in the palms of his hands, and how he really didn’t want to let you go. Sadly, you avert your gaze and nod slowly. 
Takiishi studies you for a long moment and how your expression was so soft and vulnerable. He still had trouble placing why he wanted you around, when you could never hold your own in a fight - least of all against him. Why he never even considered hurting you, and actually found the thought made him incredibly angry. Why he craved your presence… but in these moments it was clear. He just hated to admit that he wanted someone to be vulnerable with him - feel safe enough to be that way around him - and you were. Takiishi really wasn’t one to initiate physical affection, but in this moment he felt like… screw it.
Disentangling your hand from his as you look at him in shock - like you were in trouble - but he’s already picking you up and setting you on his lap so you’re straddling him with his wide palms gripping your hips. Now you’re staring down at him with wide eyes, mouth agape in utter shock, and your hands laying lightly over Takiishi’s hardened chest. Slowly, he lets his hands drift along your curves, down over your thighs - squeezing gently - before snaking his arms around your torso and pulling you flush to his chest so the two of you are nose to nose.
”Y/N. I hope you understand that I’m never gonna be a touchy feely person, or talk about my emotions in depth,” he says bluntly and you swallow thickly. “But, don’t ever not talk to me because you’re nervous, because… I do want to hold your hand.” Murmuring quietly before tilting his head forward until his forehead is pressed to yours and he’s staring into the depths of your soul. “I want to do a lot more, if you’ll let me…” his voice grows low and gravelly as he tightens his arms around you - causing you to squeak as you grip his shirt in your fists. Mouth running dry as you silently stare at your boyfriend in shock, only bringing that amused smile to his lips again. “Y/N.” He speaks firmly - jolting you out of your stupor. 
”Mhm?” Humming back in a stilted tone, to which a wide grin spreads over his face, almost throwing you into shock once more.
”Am I allowed to touch you?” Asking directly this time, and you just nod dumbly. ”Use your words,” he commands with an undertone of warning.
”Ye-yes, you’re allowed to touch me,” you whisper dryly and his grin only grows as he reaches up and cups your cheek with a warm, rough palm before guiding your lips to his. 
Touching Takiishi… Kissing Takiishi… it felt like you were caught in the undertow. With each wave of movement - a squeeze of his hand on your supple curves, a gentle nip to your bottom lip, a sweet caress of his tongue against yours - you were pulled under into a swirl of emotions and sensations that rushed through your veins and over your skin. Only for you to breach the surface for a gulp of air before being dragged under again by his suffocating warmth. It felt overwhelming - overstimulating - like Takiishi was enveloping you completely, and honestly you loved every second of it.
When everything is said and done, you awake - naked as the day you were born - wrapped in Takiishi’s arms and pressed flush to his chest. His all encompassing presence did not diminish one bit even as he slept. After this development in your relationship, Takishi still doesn’t hold your hand openly, or is openly affectionate in public, but he does make sure you feel his touch with a much greater frequency. No longer do you question if Takiishi craves your touch either.
372 notes · View notes
xomakara · 20 days ago
Text
Love Like This
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SUMMARY |  You recently moved into this very nice neighborhood with your dog, Goober. When Yeosang and his daughter introduce themselves to you, his daughter falls in love with Goober right away. As you spend more time with your neighbors, you realize that you have fallen in love.
PAIRINGS | Yeosang x Reader
RATING | Mature, NSFW, EXPLICIT, MDNI, 18+, Any Minors and Ageless Blogs will be blocked
GENRE |  smut, fluff, Dad!Yeosang, dogmom!Reader, non-idol au
CONTENT/WARNINGS | unprotected sex (wrap it up ya’ll!), oral sex (male giving/female receiving), fingering, slight dirty talk, praise kink, vaginal penetration, lovemaking
LENGTH | 6,629 words
TAGLIST |  ---
NETWORKS |  @illusionnet @cromernet @k-vanity @ksmutsociety @othersideoutlawsnetwork
AUTHOR’S NOTE | Back with another fic for the Dadteez series. As always, you'll see some recurring characters haha. This is much more on the sensual and lovemaking side of things but I hope you all enjoy it. Love you ❤️
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The doorbell rang, and your heart skipped a beat. Who could it be? You weren’t expecting anyone, but the sound of tiny footsteps and muffled giggles outside made you pause. You glanced toward Goober, sprawled out on the living room floor, his massive frame taking up more space than he probably should. His head perked up at the noise, ears twitching as if sensing something was about to happen.
“Stay, boy,” you whispered, grabbing his leash just in case. He whined softly, tail thumping against the floor, clearly eager to investigate.
You opened the door cautiously, and there they were—your new neighbors. A man stood tall, with a warm smile that seemed to light up the porch, and a little girl clinging to his hand, her eyes wide with curiosity. The man introduced himself first, his voice calm and friendly. “Hi, I’m Yeosang, and this is my daughter, Yeonwoo. We’re your neighbors next door. Thought we’d stop by and say hello and welcome you to the neighborhood.”
Yeonwoo peeked out from behind her dad, her round cheeks puffing slightly as she smiled. Her gaze darted past you, locking onto something inside your house. You followed her line of sight and saw Goober, who had decided now was the perfect time to lumber over, his big paws making soft thuds on the wooden floor. His tail wagged slowly at first, then picked up speed as he approached the door.
Yeosang’s expression tightened for a split second, clearly wary of the giant Doberman. But Yeonwoo? She didn’t even hesitate. 
“Doggy!” she squealed, pulling free from her dad’s grip and darting forward, her little hands outstretched.
“Wait!” you called out, reaching for her instinctively. “He’s… uh, he’s friendly, but—”
But she wasn’t listening. She was already kneeling in front of Goober, her tiny fingers landing gently on his broad chest. The dog froze for a moment, his dark eyes blinking down at her curiously, then let out a soft huff as his tail starts wagging again, this time like a metronome gone wild. 
“Good doggy,” Yeonwoo cooed, patting his fur with all the confidence of someone who had never met a dog they didn’t love.
Goober, ever the people-pleaser, leaned into her touch, his tongue lolling out happily. You couldn’t help but laugh, relief flooding through you. Yeosang, however, looked equal parts amazed and horrified. 
“I’m so sorry,” he said quickly, stepping forward to scoop Yeonwoo up. “She doesn’t usually… well, she’s fearless around animals.”
“It’s fine,” you assured him, leaning down to scratch Goober behind the ears. “He’s a big softie at heart. Just looks intimidating.”
Yeosang hesitated, glancing between you and Goober, his brow furrowing slightly. “Yeah, well… he is intimidating. Most dogs his size wouldn’t take too kindly to someone running up to them like that.”
You straightened up, meeting his gaze. “You’re right. I should’ve been more careful.” 
Your tone was apologetic, but Yeosang’s attention seemed torn between you and his daughter, who was now trying to squirm her way back to Goober. “It’s okay. No harm done.”
“Daddy, let me down!” she protested, wriggling in his arms. “I wanna play with him!”
“Yeonwoo,” Yeosang said firmly, though his voice softened when he looked down at her. “We don’t just go running up to dogs we don’t know. It’s dangerous.”
Her bottom lip pouted out, and you felt a pang of sympathy. 
“Actually,” you said, reaching for Goober’s leash, “he loves kids. And since Yeonwoo’s not afraid of him, maybe we could give it a shot? Safely, of course.”
Yeosang’s eyes narrowed slightly, studying you. There was something in his expression—a mix of caution and interest like he was weighing the pros and cons of letting his guard down. Finally, he sighed, setting Yeonwoo on the ground but keeping a firm hold on her shoulder. “Fine. But if he so much as growls, we’re out of here.”
“Deal,” you nodded, giving him your best reassuring smile. Then, turning to Yeonwoo, you knelt down so you were at eye level with her. “Okay, sweetie, you can pet him, but only if your daddy says it’s okay, alright?”
She nodded eagerly, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Okay!”
You guided Goober closer, making sure he stayed calm as Yeonwoo reached out again. This time, she kept her movements slow and deliberate, earning a gentle nudge from Goober as if to say ‘Finally, some manners’. Yeosang watched the interaction closely, his body tense but his expression softening as he realized how harmless it was.
“See?” you said, looking up at him. “He’s all bark and no bite.”
“Yeah, well, I think the bark alone could scare off half the neighborhood,” Yeosang chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. “I’ve never seen a dog this big except for my friend Jongho’s malamute. He has five energetic kids and you can’t say no to them when they ask for a dog.”
There was a pause, the kind that felt charged with unspoken words. You stood up, brushing off your jeans, and realized just how close you were standing to each other. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. The air between you felt thick, almost electric as if the universe itself was nudging you both closer together.
Was he feeling it too?
Yeonwoo’s voice broke the tension. “Can we keep him, Daddy? Please?”
“Not quite how it works, kiddo,” he laughed, ruffling her hair. “Goober belongs to…” He trailed off, glancing at you.
“Me,” you finished for him, offering your hand. “I’m Y/N.”
He took your hand, his grip firm and warm. “Nice to meet you.”
As you shook hands, you couldn’t help but notice how his fingers lingered against yours, just for a fraction longer than necessary. His gaze flicked up to meet yours again, and there it was—that same spark, that same pull.
“So,” he said, his voice low enough that Yeonwoo wouldn’t hear, “care to tell me why a woman living alone with a dog this size isn’t single-handedly terrifying the entire neighborhood?”
You bit back a grin, leaning in just enough so he could hear you. “Maybe because I’m not as scary as he is?”
His lips twitched, a hint of a smirk forming. “Maybe. Or maybe you’re just good at hiding it.”
There was something in his tone—something playful, something challenging. And before you could respond, Yeonwoo tugged on his sleeve. “Daddy, can we come back later and see Goober again? Pleeease?”
Yeosang glanced down at her, then back at you, that smirk still lingering. “Depends. Do you think your dog would mind some company tomorrow?”
You felt your heartbeat quicken, the question hanging in the air like an invitation. “I think Goober would love that.”
Yeosang nodded, his eyes holding yours for a moment longer than they should have. “Then we’ll see you tomorrow.”
As they walked away, Yeonwoo waving wildly, you couldn’t help but replay the interaction in your mind. There was something about Yeosang—his protectiveness, his humor, the way he seemed to balance authority with warmth. And then there was that look, the one that had passed between you, brief but unmistakable.
Goober nudged your hand, drawing you back to the present. You scratched his ear, smiling. “Looks like we’ve got company tomorrow, buddy.”
He barked once, as if in agreement, and you felt a thrill run through you. Something was stirring between you and Yeosang, something undeniable. And you couldn’t wait to see where it led.
What a great way to start a new life in a new neighborhood.
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A few weeks later, the neighborhood buzzed with excitement. Hongjoong, the grill master, had announced a spontaneous barbecue, and the scent of sizzling sausages wafted through the air, mingling with laughter and chatter. You stood at the edge of your yard, Goober by your side, watching as neighbors gathered around the makeshift grill setup in the park across the street.
Yeosang and Yeonwoo were already there, their presence drawing attention. Yeonwoo was running around with Hongjoong’s kids, Hyejin and Hongki, their laughter echoing like music. Yeosang stood nearby, chatting with Hongjoong, his voice carrying easily over the park. His eyes met yours briefly, and you felt that familiar spark, a subtle warmth pooling in your chest.
“Hi Miss Y/N!” Haru, San’s son, called out, his shy smile breaking into a grin as he approached you. “Can Goober play with us?”
You glanced down at your massive Doberman, who wagged his tail eagerly. “I think he’d love that. Just keep an eye on him, okay? He might get a little too excited.”
He nodded vigorously, and before you could say more, he was leading Goober toward the cluster of kids. The children squealed in delight as Goober bounded over, his enthusiasm infectious. Even one of Jongho’s sons, Jongsoo, usually so quiet, couldn’t resist reaching out to pet him.
As you watched them play, Yeosang joined you, his presence grounding yet electric. 
“Looks like Goober’s the star of the show,” he remarked, a hint of amusement in his voice.
You smirked. “He’s got a knack for that. Kids seem to adore him.”
Yeosang’s gaze lingered on you, something unspoken passing between you. “You’re good with them,” he said quietly. “With him.”
Good with him. The words sent a shiver down your spine, knowing he wasn’t just referring to Goober. You turned to face him, your breath catching slightly at the intensity in his brown eyes. 
“Someone has to be,” you replied, your tone light but your heart pounding.
Before either of you could say more, a loud crash interrupted the moment. Everyone turned to see Goober standing near the drinks cooler, which now lay on its side, ice and cans spilling everywhere. 
Haru burst out laughing, pointing at the scene. “Goober did it!”
You groaned, rushing over to assess the damage. Goober looked up at you sheepishly, his tail wagging slowly as if hoping to charm his way out of trouble. 
“You big goof,” you muttered, ruffling his ears. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Guess we’ll have to team up to fix this,” he said, his voice low and teasing. Yeosang knelt beside you, his hands moving efficiently as he helped pick up the scattered cans. 
You glanced at him, caught off guard by the heat in his tone. “Teamwork, huh?”
“Always,” he replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Especially when it involves cleaning up after a charmingly clumsy dog.”
You laughed, the sound bubbling up naturally. “Fine. But if Goober knocks anything else over, you’re helping me explain it to Hongjoong’s wife.”
He chuckled, the sound warm and inviting. “Deal.”
Together, you worked quickly, gathering the scattered drinks and refilling the cooler. The sun beat down on you, and you found yourself glancing at Yeosang often, admiring the way his muscles flexed as he moved. There was something about the way he carried himself—quiet strength tempered by a surprising tenderness. It was captivating, and you felt a pull toward him that was impossible to ignore.
When the last can was in place, Yeosang straightened, wiping his hands on his jeans. 
“All set,” he said, turning to you. His eyes held yours, the space between you suddenly charged with tension.
“Thanks,” you murmured, your voice softer than intended. He took a step closer, his proximity sending your pulse racing. 
“Anytime,” he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper. Anytime. The word echoed in your mind, fueling the fire that had been smoldering since your first encounter.
Before you could respond, Yeonwoo came running up, tugging on Yeosang’s hand. “Daddy, can we go on the swings? Please?”
He smiled down at her, the transformation immediate and disarming. “Of course, sweetheart. Let’s go.”
As they walked away, Yeonwoo holding his hand and swinging it happily, you watched them, a smile tugging at your lips. Yeosang glanced back at you once, his expression unreadable, but the weight of his gaze lingered, heavy and undeniable.
Goober nudged your hand, drawing you back to the present. You scratched his ear, your thoughts still on Yeosang. “Looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us, buddy.”
He barked once, as if in agreement, and you felt a thrill run through you. Something was stirring between you and Yeosang, something undeniable. And you couldn’t wait to see where it led.
Later, as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the neighborhood, you found yourself sitting by the grill, a plate of food in your hands. Yeosang sat beside you, the two of you sharing an easy conversation. The faint hum of music played in the background, and the sound of children laughing filled the air.
“You know,” Yeosang said, his voice soft, “I haven’t felt this... comfortable in a long time.”
You glanced at him, surprised by his candor. “Really?”
“It’s been just me and Yeonwoo for a while. It’s nice to feel like... part of something again. Thank you,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. He nodded, his gaze focused on the flickering flames of the grill. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade away. The air between you crackled with potential, with the promise of something more.
You smiled, a warmth spreading through you. “Anytime.”
As the night deepened, the atmosphere shifted subtly, growing more intimate. The other neighbors began to drift away, leaving you and Yeosang alone by the dying embers of the grill. Yeonwoo was asleep in her stroller, her tiny breaths steady and peaceful.
“This has been... nice,” he said, his voice low and rough. Yeosang leaned back, his arm brushing yours. 
“Yeah,” you agreed softly. You turned to him, your heart pounding. “It has.”
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A few days later, as the sun dipped below the horizon and painted the sky in hues of orange and purple, you found yourself standing at the doorway of Yeosang’s house. He had invited you over for dinner and you agreed. Your heart was pounding, a mix of anticipation and curiosity swirling within you. The last time you’d been here, it had been casual, neighborly. Tonight felt different, charged with an undercurrent of something far more intimate.
Yeosang opened the door with a smile that made your knees weak. His eyes were warm, and inviting, and there was a playful glint in them that sent a shiver down your spine. 
“You came,” he said simply, stepping aside to let you in. His voice was low, almost husky, and it sent a thrill through you.
“Wouldn’t miss it,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light even as your stomach fluttered. “Where’s Yeonwoo?”
“She’s at a sleepover that Hongjoong and his wife is hosting,” Yeosang responded. “All the neighborhood kids went.”
You stepped inside, and the scent of something delicious—spices, garlic, rosemary—filled the air. It was comforting, homey, and yet there was an undeniable air of sophistication to it. Yeosang had outdone himself.
“Dinner’s almost ready,” he said, closing the door behind you. His hand brushed against yours briefly, sending a spark of electricity between you. “Just need to finish plating. Make yourself at home.”
He disappeared into the kitchen, and you took a moment to glance around. The living room was cozy, with soft lighting and a fire crackling in the fireplace. Pictures of Yeonwoo dotted the walls, capturing her in moments of pure joy—running through fields, blowing out birthday candles, clutching Goober in her tiny arms. They were snapshots of a life well-lived, filled with love and laughter. It made your chest ache in the best way.
“Here we go,” Yeosang said, emerging from the kitchen carrying two plates. He set them down on the coffee table in front of the couch, then gestured for you to sit. “I hope you like Italian. I figured it was a safe bet.”
You sat down, your gaze drawn to the plate in front of you. The pasta looked perfect, the sauce glistening, the herbs sprinkled just so. 
“It looks amazing,” you said, picking up your fork. “And yeah, Italian’s always a safe bet.”
Yeosang sat beside you, his thigh brushing against yours as he reached for his fork. “Good. I wasn’t sure if I should go fancy or keep it simple. But...well, I wanted tonight to be special.”
Your breath caught at the sincerity in his voice. There was something raw, unguarded, about the way he spoke. It made you want to lean closer, to press your lips to his and see if he tasted as good as the food smelled. Instead, you settled for taking a bite of the pasta. It was rich, flavorful, and utterly delicious. 
“Yeosang, this is incredible,” you said, genuinely impressed. “You’ve got skills.”
He chuckled, a deep, rumbling sound that made your pulse quicken. “Thanks. Cooking is kind of my therapy. When Yeonwoo was younger, I spent a lot of nights in the kitchen, figuring things out. Got pretty good at it.”
A pang of sympathy hit you. You couldn’t imagine what it must have been like for him, raising a child alone, and navigating the challenges of parenthood without a partner. But somehow, he’d done it. And now, here he was, sitting beside you, looking completely at ease. It was both admirable and incredibly attractive.
As you ate, the conversation flowed effortlessly. He told you stories about Yeonwoo’s antics, the time she’d convinced him to dress up as a pirate for her school play, the night she’d snuck into his room and climbed into bed with him because of a thunderstorm. You laughed, your heart swelling with affection for the little girl who’d already stolen your heart.
“She’s something else,” you said when he finished recounting the story of Yeonwoo convincing him to bake cupcakes for her class. “I can’t believe you went along with all that.”
He grinned, leaning back against the couch. “What can I say? She’s got me wrapped around her little finger. Always has.”
You studied his face as he spoke, the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, the faint stubble on his jaw catching the light. There was a vulnerability to him, a softness that he rarely let show. But tonight, he seemed more open, more willing to let his guard down. And you couldn’t help but feel like this was a turning point, a moment where everything could change.
When dinner was over, Yeosang cleared the plates and returned with two glasses of wine. He handed one to you, his fingers brushing against yours again. 
“To new beginnings,” he said, raising his glass.
You clink your glass against his, your eyes meeting his over the rim. 
“To new beginnings,” you echoed, your voice soft.
The atmosphere shifted subtly after that. The fire crackled in the hearth, the room bathed in golden light, and the tension between you grew thicker, and heavier. Yeosang leaned back against the couch, his arm resting casually along the backrest behind you. You could feel the heat of him, the subtle weight of his presence.
“So,” he said, his voice low, “tell me something I don’t know about you.”
“Something you don’t know?” you repeated, thinking. You shifted slightly, the movement bringing your body closer to his.  “Hmm. I guess most people don’t know that I used to take fencing classes when I was a kid.”
His eyebrows shot up. “Fencing? Really?”
You nodded, smiling. “Yeah. My dad thought it would be a good way to build discipline. Turned out I liked it. Even won a few competitions before I quit.”
He studied you, his expression thoughtful. “That explains why you walk like you’ve got a sword strapped to your side.”
“Excuse me?” you said, laughing. “I do not walk like that.”
“No?” he teased, his mouth curving into a sly grin. “Because you carry yourself like someone who knows how to handle herself.”
The compliment sent a warm flush through you, mingling with the wine and the firelight. You didn’t know what to say, so you stayed silent, letting the moment stretch between you. Yeosang’s gaze dropped to your lips, and suddenly the air was thick with unspoken words, unsaid promises.
Without thinking, you turned toward him, your body angled slightly, your knee brushing against his.
“Yeosang,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he stared at you. “Yeah?”
You leaned in, your heart pounding in your chest. 
“I think...” you started, then paused, unsure of how to finish the sentence. But before you could figure it out, he moved, closing the distance between you.
His lips met yours, soft at first, hesitant, as though testing the waters. But then you kissed him back, and the hesitation melted away. His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw as his lips moved against yours. The kiss was slow and deliberate, each touch sending waves of desire crashing through you.
You slid your hand up his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. He groaned softly, deepening the kiss, his tongue sweeping against yours in a languid, intoxicating rhythm. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the sensation of each other.
When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing heavily, your chests rising and falling in sync. Yeosang pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, his voice strained. 
“God, you’re incredible,” he muttered, his fingers tracing the curve of your neck. You felt dazed, the kiss lingering on your lips like a memory. 
“Yeosang,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. He pulled back, his dark eyes searching yours. 
“Do you trust me?” he asked, his voice low, intense.
You hesitated, caught off guard by the question. But then you nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. “Yeah. I do.”
With that, he stood, pulling you to your feet. “Then come with me.”
Yeosang’s grip on your hand was firm, yet gentle, as he led you through the dimly lit hallway of his home. The air between you was charged with an electric tension, every step drawing you closer to the unknown. His house felt different at this hour, quieter, more intimate, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath.
The faint glow of a lamp spilled into the hallway from his bedroom, casting soft shadows that danced across the floor. Every detail seemed intentional, from the neatly folded jacket resting on the chair to the book left open on the nightstand. It was a space that spoke of him, a man who carried himself with quiet strength but also harbored a tenderness that only those closest to him would ever see.
You couldn’t help but feel a shiver of anticipation run down your spine.
“This is me,” he said softly, his deep voice resonating in the stillness. His thumb brushed against the back of your hand in a subtle, reassuring gesture. Without waiting for your response, he pushed the door open wider and stepped inside, pulling you along with him.
The room enveloped you in warmth, the scent of cedar and smoke wrapping around you like a whispered promise. The bed, large and inviting, stood at the center, its crisp linens and plush comforter seeming to beckon you both. Yeosang closed the door behind you, the click of the latch echoing faintly in the quiet room.
For a moment, there was silence. The world outside ceased to exist. It was just the two of you, standing face to face, the space between you narrowing with each passing second.
He lifted his hand, his fingers brushing a strand of hair away from your face. His touch was feather-light, yet it sent a jolt of awareness through you.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his eyes tracing your features with an intensity that made your heartbeat quicken.
You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his gaze. 
“So are you,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at the corners of his lips. 
“I wasn’t sure how this would go,” he admitted, his voice low. “But being near you… it feels right.”
You nodded, unable to find the words to respond. The truth was, you felt it too. That inexplicable pull, the way he made you feel safe even as your pulse raced with excitement.
Without another word, he stepped closer, his body aligning with yours. The heat of him radiated against your skin, sending shivers cascading down your spine. His hands moved to your shoulders, sliding down your arms before gripping your wrists lightly. It was a tender hold, one that spoke of restraint and care.
“Let me take care of you,” he said, his voice husky now, laced with desire.
You nodded again, unable to resist the magnetic pull of his request.
With slow, deliberate movements, he began to undress you. First, his fingers found the button of your blouse, easing it free with practiced ease. The fabric parted, revealing the delicate lace of your bra beneath. He slid the blouse off your shoulders, letting it fall to the floor at your feet.
Next came the clasp of your jeans, his fingers fumbling slightly as the tension between you grew. Once undone, he slowly peeled them down your legs, leaving you in only your panties and bra.
You stood there, exposed and vulnerable under his intense gaze.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.
Before you could respond, his hands returned to your body, this time skimming over your hips and settling on your waist. His touch was electrifying, sending waves of heat coursing through you.
“Yeosang,” you breathed, your voice trembling.
He didn’t answer, his focus entirely on the task at hand.
His hands moved to the straps of your bra, gently peeling them down your arms until they pooled at your elbows. With a deft motion, he unclasped the garment, letting it fall to the floor. Your heart pounded in your chest as he took a step back, his eyes raking over your naked form.
“You’re so beautiful,” he repeated, his voice barely audible.
Then, without warning, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue pressed against yours, igniting a fire that consumed you whole. You melted against him, your arms wrapping around his neck as his hands roamed over your back, pulling you flush against his hard, defined frame.
The world dissolved into sensation, every nerve ending alive and pulsating with need. His hands moved lower, cupping your ass and lifting you slightly as he deepened the kiss.
You moaned into his mouth, your head spinning with desire.
Suddenly, he pulled back, his breathing ragged. 
“Bed,” he growled, his voice commanding yet filled with urgency.
Without hesitation, he picked you up and laid you down on the plush comforter, his body following soon after. His lips found yours again, their kisses frantic now, desperate.
You reached down, fumbling with the button of his jeans. He caught your hand, pinning it above your head. 
“Not yet,” he whispered, his voice raw with need.
Instead, his mouth trailed down your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as his hands roamed over your body. You arched into his touch, your breath hitching as he nipped softly at the curve of your shoulder.
“Yeosang,” you gasped, your thighs trembling with longing.
He shifted his position, his knee nudging between your legs.
“Tell me what you want,” he demanded, his voice hoarse.
You hesitated, your mind reeling.
Before you could answer, he surged forward, his hardness pressing against your core through the thin fabric of your underwear.
Yeosang’s fingers traced the curve of your waist, his touch lingering for just a moment longer than necessary. His gaze dropped to your panties, the thin fabric barely concealing the heat building between your thighs. His breath hitched, and you could feel the tension in his body, a coil ready to snap.
“Let me see you,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. The words were soft, but they carried weight, pulling you deeper into the moment.
You nodded, your throat dry, and lifted your hips slightly as he slid his hand beneath the waistband of your underwear. The fabric caught on your skin for a brief second before it was gone, tossed aside without a thought. Yeosang’s eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, unfiltered and exposed. His fingers brushed against your bare skin, featherlight at first, then more deliberate as he explored the contours of your body.
His breath was hot against your thigh as he leaned closer, his lips ghosting over your flesh. He inhaled deeply as if he could taste you in the air, and his fingers trailed lower, pausing just above the apex of your thighs. You shifted beneath him, your body arching instinctively toward his touch, and he responded with a slow, steady pressure that made your breath catch in your throat.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with desire. The words seemed to echo in the quiet room, filling the space between you with a raw, pulsating energy.
He pushed your legs apart gently, his hands firm but careful, and settled between them. His fingers toyed with the sensitive skin there, teasing and testing, until you whimpered, lost in the sensation. He looked up at you then, his brown eyes intense, almost predatory, and you felt a shiver run down your spine.
“Do you like that?” he asked, his voice dripping with intent. His fingers pressed harder, circling rhythmically, and you couldn’t stop yourself from moaning softly.
“Yes,” you breathed, your voice barely audible. The word slipped out before you could think, a surrender to the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.
Yeosang smirked, a hint of triumph softening his expression. 
“Good,” he said, his tone laced with satisfaction. He bent his head lower, his lips brushing against the inside of your thigh, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. The sensation sent a jolt of electricity through you, pooling low in your stomach.
His tongue flicked out then, tasting you for the first time, and you cried out, gripping the sheets beneath you. His name tumbled from your lips in a breathless plea, but he ignored it, too focused on his task. His tongue moved with precision, tracing patterns against your most intimate flesh, and every flick, every swipe, brought you closer to the edge.
You were shaking now, your body taut with need, and Yeosang knew exactly what you needed. He teased the bundle of nerves with his fingers while his tongue worked its magic, alternating between gentle licks and firmer strokes that sent waves of pleasure crashing over you. Your hips bucked involuntarily, chasing the sensation, and he gripped your thighs to hold you still.
“Yeosang…” you moaned, your voice breaking as the tension coiled tighter and tighter within you.
He glanced up at you, his eyes gleaming with intensity. 
“Almost there,” he promised, his voice rough with exertion. He returned his attention to you, his movements growing more urgent, and you felt the walls inside you tighten, preparing to give way.
The pleasure rose higher, cresting like a wave, and with a final, desperate cry, you shattered. Your body convulsed around his fingers, your muscles clenching uncontrollably as the orgasm swept through you. Yeosang didn’t stop, didn’t let up, riding the wave with you until the tremors subsided and you lay spent, gasping for air.
He pulled away slowly, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he watched you. His lips were swollen, stained with your arousal, and his dark hair fell messily across his forehead. You reached out, your fingers threading through the strands, and drew him down for a kiss. It was messy, passionate, and utterly consuming, a reflection of the explosive intimacy you had just shared.
When he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours. He started to strip his clothes, throwing them haphazardly across the room.
“I want to make you feel that way again,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. “But not yet. I have something else in mind.”
You blinked up at him, unsure of what he meant, but before you could ask, he rolled onto his back, tugging you with him. You straddled his hips, your legs trembling slightly as you settled into place. Yeosang’s hands glided up your sides, cupping your breasts, and his thumbs brushed your nipples, sending sparks of sensation rippling outward.
“Tell me what you want,” he repeated, his voice commanding this time. “And this time, don’t hold back.”
You looked down at him, his dark eyes locked onto yours, and felt a surge of boldness. 
“I want you inside me,” you said, the words coming out stronger than you expected. “Now.”
“That’s what I wanted to hear,” he growled, flipping you onto your back once more. He positioned himself between your legs, his hardness pressing against you, and you gasped as he pushed into you with one smooth thrust.
The sensation was overwhelming, a perfect blend of fullness and heat that left you clinging to him for balance. Yeosang paused, giving you a moment to adjust, before pulling out and thrusting back in, his movements deliberate and controlled.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him on, and he obliged, picking up the pace. His thrusts grew deeper, more forceful, each one rocking your body in tandem with his. Your breaths came in short, sharp bursts, merging with his groans as the sound of flesh meeting flesh filled the room.
“Yeosang,” you whispered, your voice broken and pleading. “Don’t stop. Please…”
He drove into you harder, his hands pinning your wrists above your head. “Never,” he growled, his teeth bared in a feral grin. “Not until you’ve had enough.”
Your body tightened around him, signaling the beginnings of another climax, and Yeosang sensed it, pushing you over the edge with brutal efficiency. You screamed his name as pleasure tore through you, your nails digging into his back as he followed shortly after, his release marking the end of your mutual frenzy.
For a moment, there was nothing but stillness, save for the sound of your labored breathing. Yeosang collapsed beside you, his chest heaving, and you turned to face him, your fingers tracing the curve of his jaw.
“Again?” he asked, his voice a teasing challenge.
You leaned in, capturing his lips with yours. “Only if you can keep up.”
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The months that followed were a blur of passion, laughter, and quiet moments shared with Yeosang. Each night, you found yourself in his arms, the two of you tangled together in a mess of sheets and promises. But it wasn’t just about the heat between you—it was the way he looked at you, the way his touch made you feel seen and cherished. You loved him, and you wanted Yeonwoo to see that love reflected in both of your eyes.
It was a sunny afternoon when the three of you sat together on the porch. Yeonwoo was sprawled on the floor, her tiny hands happily petting Goober, who lay beside her with his tongue lolling out in pure bliss. Yeosang sat next to you, his arm draped casually around your shoulders as he watched his daughter play. The moment felt perfect like it had been crafted just for you.
“Yeonwoo,” Yeosang began, his voice calm but deliberate. His deep brown eyes shifted from his daughter to you, then back again. “We need to talk to you about something important.”
Yeonwoo paused mid-pet, her wide, innocent eyes lifting to meet her father’s. She blinked, waiting, her stuffed rabbit clutched tightly against her chest.
You took a deep breath, reaching out to squeeze Yeosang’s hand. 
“Sweetie,” you said gently, your voice soft but steady. “Your daddy and I… we love each other. We’ve talked about it, and we want to be a family. Together. Just the three of us.”
Yeonwoo’s eyes widened further, her tiny mouth forming an “O” of surprise. For a moment, she didn’t say anything, her gaze darting between you and her father before landing on Goober, who panted happily beside her. Then, with a sudden burst of energy, she scrambled to her feet and threw herself at Goober, hugging the dog tightly.
“That means you’ll stay with us forever, right?” she asked, her voice tinged with excitement. “You’ll be my new mommy? And Goober can be my pet?”
You glanced at Yeosang, your heart swelling at the sincerity in her question. He gave you a small, reassuring smile before nodding. “Yes, sweetheart. That’s exactly what it means.”
Yeonwoo squealed, burying her face in Goober’s fur. The dog, ever the gentle giant, let out a happy bark and wagged his tail furiously, clearly enjoying the attention. You laughed, your cheeks warm with emotion, and Yeosang pulled you closer, pressing a tender kiss to your temple.
“Thank you,” he murmured, his breath brushing against your hair. “For making this easy for her.”
You turned your head slightly, meeting his gaze. 
“She’s not the only one who’s happy about this,” you replied, your voice teasing but laced with genuine affection. “I think I’ve wanted this just as much as she has.”
Yeosang’s lips curved into a smug grin, his dark eyes glinting with mischief. 
“Oh, really?” he teased, his hand sliding down to rest on your thigh. “Want to prove it?”
Before you could answer, Yeonwoo chimed in, her little voice interrupting the moment. “Daddy, can we go to the park tomorrow? Please? It’s been ages since we played on the swings!”
Yeosang chuckled, ruffling her hair affectionately. “Of course, princess. As long as your new mommy agrees.”
Your cheeks flushed at the title, but you nodded quickly, unable to suppress a smile. “I’d love to. We’ll make it a family outing.”
Yeonwoo clapped her hands, her laughter ringing out like music. “Yay! Goober can come too!”
“Goober would never forgive us if we left him behind,” you agreed, laughing along with her.
As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the yard, Yeosang stood up and offered you a hand. 
“Come on,” he said, his voice low and inviting. “Let’s take these two inside. They’re going to get cold out here.”
You accepted his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. Yeonwoo grabbed her stuffed rabbit and Goober’s leash, already plotting their evening routine. The four of you walked into the house, the warmth of the day lingering in the air around you.
Once inside, Yeosang led you toward the kitchen, his fingers intertwined with yours. 
“Have I told you how amazing you are?” he asked suddenly, his tone serious but his eyes sparkling with amusement.
You raised an eyebrow, leaning into him slightly. “Not recently, no. What brought this on?”
“Just thinking about how lucky I am,” he admitted, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You’ve made me a better man. A better father. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m never letting you go.”
Your breath hitched, your heart skipping a beat at his words. 
“Yeosang…” you began, but he silenced you with a finger to your lips.
“Don’t say anything,” he instructed, his voice firm but gentle. “Just let me enjoy the moment.”
You nodded silently, your chest tight with emotion. Yeosang leaned down, capturing your lips in a slow, sweet kiss that sent a jolt of electricity through your body. When he pulled away, his gaze lingered on yours, hot and intense.
“I love you,” he says.
“I love you too,” you respond back, happy that you have a love like this.
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domoriu · 3 months ago
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take a peek ೀ⋆ k.lh & h.ts
perv!taesan who has a secret crush on his bestriends girlfriend. he knows its wrong, but you were just so pretty.
leehan x f!reader x taesan wc. 1.9k warnings. smut 18+ MDNI , voyeurism , exhibitionism , there’s not any talk about protection so that can be up to you , rough sex , pussy slapping , squirting , this is a gongfourz version of the fic i made for riize 03z on my other blog !!
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leehan knew about taesans little crush on you, but he knew his friend wouldn’t try to do anything with you. and leehan knew that you wouldn’t go after taesan, even if the boy was cute. you were a loyal girl, and he concluded that taesan wasn’t even your type after seeing the guys you dated before him.
another reason why leehan wasn’t worried, was because he fucked you like no other man has. and that's how taesan found himself in the situation he was in now.
he had gotten off work a bit earlier than usual, and he was on his way back to his apartment. he texted leehan to see if he was home, but no response. he didn’t think too much of it though, he usually had his phone on dnd and it wasn’t a big deal if he didn’t get a text back.
stepping inside of his shared apartment, his ears were instantly filled with the sound of moans filling the unit. he stopped dead in his tracks, scanning his surroundings to make sure he wouldn’t walk into anything in the common areas. after taking his shoes off and quietly walking further into the apartment, he concluded that it was coming from leehans room.
he took small steps down the hallway, not wanting the two of you to hear him. it wasn’t a surprise that you two were having sex, it would be a surprise if you two weren’t having sex. every time you came over, taesan would be able to hear your moans through the apartment. even if you were being ‘quiet’ , the way his room was just the door next to leehans so he could hear you even if it was muffled. he would never bring it up though, and if you or leehan asked if it was an issue taesan would just say he couldn’t hear or that he had his headphones in.
but that was never the case. he always listened. sometimes he would listen from his room, sometimes he would lean on the door to be able to hear you clearly.
and since you were under the impression that taesan wasn’t home, there was no holding back. when he got closer to the door, he realized that it wasn’t fully closed. it was just enough for him to be able to see through without being noticed at a first glance. he might have listened into you guys fucking, but he’s never seen you two in action. he should just turn around, go into his room as quiet as he can and listen in like usual, but he doesn’t.
he gets a bit closer to the crack in the door, and he can get a full view of you both on the bed. leehan was behind you, both of your bodies facing the door while he fucked you from behind.
taesan could feel his cock throb in his pants while he watched, knowing he should be looking away. but he couldn’t, he’s always wanted to see you like this. his hand reaches into his pants, palming himself through his boxers. he sighs, the straining in his groin starting to subside.
you were a blubbering mess. leehan had one hand holding your arms behind your back while his other hand held your head against the bed. the makeup you had on running down your face and staining the sheets, and every word you tried to get out was incoherent.
it was something he’d never seen before. the way he manhandled you was something out of a porno. taesan wasn't a virgin, but he wasn’t very experienced, and he definitely wasn’t having sex like this.
“l-leehan” strings of his name and various profanities leave your lips, the sound of his hips colliding with your ass repeatedly.
taesan finally reached through his boxers now to grab his cock, a whimper leaving his lips before he could catch himself. he was praying that it wasn't loud, but the fear of getting caught wasn’t enough for him to hide.
little did taesan know, he was caught. before taesan made his quiet trail down the hall, leehan knew the slight sounds of the front door opening and closing. leehan didn’t care about getting caught fucking you, taking pride in making you feel good and he thought taesan would just go in to his room and act like normal. but then he remembered he hadn’t fully closed the door. so while he was flipping your position, his eyes peered to the door that was 3/4 closed and he could see the figure of taesan standing there. not like you would have noticed, leehan pressing your face into the bed and fucking you to the point you could barely keep your eyes open.
leehan would be lying if he said this didn’t spur him on more, giving him the stamina to fuck you harder and put on a show for his unexpected audience. if taesan wanted to watch you two fuck, then that’s what he’s going to get.
taesan had to be in a dream. there was no way that this was how you got fucked, so helpless and dumbed down. you carried yourself pretty strongly outside of the bedroom, so he would never guess that you could be so submissive. his hand was moving to the pace of leehans hips, occasionally squeezing himself to mimic the feeling of a pussy clenching around him. he imagined it was yours, imagined that he was the one in place of leehan. he wished he was the one who got to have you like that, to give you pleasure and to use your body for his own. he tucked his bottom lip into his mouth, biting down onto the flesh to keep himself from moaning out loud.
“you’re taking my cock so well, princess. you like it when i fuck you like this huh?” he leans over you, hand letting go of your arms so he could hold himself up. he was right in your ear now, his tone letting you know the question wasn’t rhetorical and he expected your response.
“mhm-! love it so much hannie” you whine, pressing your hips back. his cock pressing deep inside you creating a delicious amount of pressure.
taesans vision was getting blurry, even if he was pumping his cock at the same unforgiving pace leehan was hammering his own into your cunt, he still felt that painful ache even if he felt like he could just cum from looking at the scene in front of him.
leehan lifts himself back up, hand that held himself up moving to your bicep, pulling your body up with his. he held you up by the base of your throat, other hand on your waist while he pressed his chest into your back. your skin ran cold from the new position despite the absolute fire you felt between your legs.
the hand that was sinking into your hip was now traveling down to find your clit, and you let out a choked out sob at the contact to the throbbing bud.
“fuck, h-hannie,” your hand struggling to grasp onto the boys wrist to stop the abuse to your clit. he takes his fingers off you for a second, just to swat your hand away and then he’s giving a sharp slap to your clit which forces another choked sob to come out of you.
“stop fighting and take it, princess” the words he spoke in your ear were like venom, laced with that sweet voice of his. you opened your eyes as much as you could, struggling to keep up with the way leehan was handling you. your eyes scanned the room through hooded eyes, and that’s when you saw the figure of taesan staring through the door with his hand in his pants.
eyes now fully open, you squeeze hard on the hand leehan had on your neck, trying to get his attention. “leehan, the door” you hold onto him, words coming out so quiet you wouldn’t be surprised if he couldn’t hear you.
“mhm, what about it?” he doesn’t even care, continuing to fuck you while he talks for only you to hear.
you squeeze his hand. “t- ngh- taesans home. the door-”
“don’t let him stop you baby. let him see how good i fuck you” his hand moves up further up your throat, squeezing slightly making your eyes roll back “bet it’s turning you on being watched,” your eyes move back to the door, taesan was still there. his lips parted slightly while he jerks himself off. how long has he been there for? how long did leehan know?
“feel you clenching around me, you like being watched, huh?” he teases in your ear, biting down on the lobe slightly before he squeezes his fingers around your throat again. “shit, im gonna cum baby” with a few more hard thrusts, he cums, hips stilling as he groans in your ear. he holds you in place for a moment, catching his breath.
he lets go of your throat and removes his fingers from your clit, pushing your body back onto the bed and you immediately grab the sheets under you, trembling as he slides out of you and flips you over. you can see him now, and he has a new look in his eye that he doesn’t have normally, it’s darker, like he was plotting something.
taesan was frozen, not even touching himself anymore but just watching. he has his hand wrapped around the base of his cock, holding it tightly as he took in everything in front of him. leehan opened your legs, trailing his fingers all across your body but not giving you anything, just watching as your body melts into his touch.
his fingers are back on your clit, and you writhe under his touch. he spreads your folds open with his other hand, the feeling making you bite back a scream. your hand reaches for his again, and he shoves your hand away, and then another slap to your clit. “you’re doing taesan a favor, you know. poor boy never gets to fuck, he just jerks off in his room every night wishing he could fuck this pretty pussy, he doesn’t even know how much of a slut you are,”
taesan whimpers, humiliated by the fact that leehan had caught on to his little secret crush on you, and how he just exposed said secret to you.
“oh my god” you whine, you want to cum so bad, the release you craved so close but so far, leehan making sure he gave you enough to keep you on edge but not enough for you to tip over. you didn’t even care about who was watching anymore, you just wanted to cum. he slaps your clit again, and again, and again, until you're shaking and begging him to stop. it was too much, your clit was numb and throbbing and your cunt was aching with need.
“show taesan how you cum for me, baby.” two fingers plunging into you, curling to hit that sensitive spot to get you to your peak. his palm grazing your clit with each thrust, and you were grabbing onto his forearm, fingernails digging into the skin as you finally reached your peak.
you covered your mouth as a strangled sob was ripped from your throat, gushing around leehans hand while he praised you, strings of good girl and there you go coming out as he brought you down from your high.
the both of you turned to the door, only to see that it had been shut. taesan had went back to his room quietly, humping his hand until he came all over his shirt.
there was no way he would be able to face you again after this.
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rosemaze-reveries · 5 months ago
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Hello! I found your blog and love the writing
Here’s sit with me while I tell you my favorite idea 💡
✨So the hunters (all if possible) come back to the manor after a long match of smelling sweat and blood upon walking towards their shred room with reader they catch a scent of their lovers perfume- mind going a mile a minute with the idea of their lover being in they arms and just melting from the stress of the day ✨
Thoughts 💭
ANON. anon...... this is the kind of scenario that makes me CRAZY uegh.. when their judgment's clouded by bloodlust but inhaling your scent brings them back to their senses >>> 🤒 let me be your lighthouse home etc etc. sign me UP.
for some blurbs, this turned into a broader "hunter comes straight to you after a rough match" without the perfume bit. kind of misunderstood the assignment but either way, here's this!
🌪️✂️👘🏳️🏴🦌🐍🪞🎻🔩🐟🕯️
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🌪️ Ithaqua brings an air of gloom with him into your bedroom. Driven by nothing but a searing want for you, he skips over any pleasantries to tear off his mask and shove you onto the ground. A bed of wind tries to break your fall, but his impatience gets the better of him; he pins you to the floor with such force that he disrupts his own gale from cushioning your way down. Not that you care in the moment. You’ve been waiting to have him in your arms all day. He leaves a scattering of love bites and wet kisses up your neck.
✂️ Jack has one particular tune that he hums after his worst matches. Months of living together have left you all too familiar with it. His song begins from the foot of the staircase and steadily crisps itself to your ears as he draws nearer. Afraid of the state you might find him in, you rush outside to meet him at the top of the banister. He pauses with one foot on the next step. “Curious,” he says, greeting you with a cordial smile. “It’s not often a little mouse stands in my path—not on purpose.” His blouse is soaked a shade of reddish brown, and no amount of easy banter can hide the weariness in his eye. “Well, you’ve saved me the trouble. I was on my way to ravage you next.”
👘 Michiko drags her nails along the walls of the corridor, leaving a dull streak of blood behind. She doesn’t make a sound when she slips inside your room, practised in her delicate step; you don’t even feel the dip in the mattress before she has her shoulders arched over you. Eyeing you tenderly, she rolls a warm thumb over your cheekbone. “I’m home,” she murmurs. “Your sweet scent led the way again.” She realizes she left a smear of red on your skin, and her hand jerks away, startled by the reminder of what she had been doing just minutes ago.
🏳️ Bi’an’s arms wind around the small of your back, drawing you into his chest for a slow, tender embrace. It’s the first thing he does after returning to the manor: falling straight into your arms. As his lips trail down your forehead, peppering soft kisses in their path, you wrap your arms around his neck to bring him closer. A whisper escapes you about how out of the blue this is, and in response he brings a kiss to the corner of your eye, prompting them to flutter shut. “Let me have you, just for a little while…” Those sweet kisses he’s so good at descend your neck, growing rougher the lower he goes.
🏴 Wujiu’s arms wind around your stomach, pressing his chest flush against your back. He hasn’t uttered a word since returning from his match, aside from a tepid “Nothing worth mentioning” when asked about his day. This sudden affection takes you by surprise. You try to turn your head to face him but he catches your chin, steering your gaze back to the wall. “Don’t look at me.” Whatever is clouding his mind today is better left alone, you realize. You lay your hands on top of his, squeezing them, encouraging him to let your presence blot out everything on his mind. Warm breath fans your collarbone as he nuzzles into your neck, drinking in your scent.
🦌 Bane doesn’t like to discuss his matches. It makes no difference whether they are quick or slow, a win or a lose, they always weigh on him the same way. He sits on the edge of the bed lost in thought. You decide to break the tension first by greeting him with a hug from behind, your chin hooking over his shoulder. Bane isn’t big on physical affection. But after a while he cups a tender hand to your temple, palm taking up the entirety of your face, and presses you gently into him.
🐍 Yidhra might be the hunter most detached from the nightmares of the manor games. They provide nothing but leisure for her, and she’s never felt particularly passionate about them, win or lose. Her followers are the ones who give her the most trouble. When they resist her will, her consciousness splinters apart, some days leaving her too weak to herd them back again. These are typically the days she comes for you. You aren’t sure when she enters your room, but sometimes you catch glimpses of her tail in your peripheral, never to be seen when you’re looking on purpose. Her voice floats in the back of your mind: Mine, mine, mine, mine… There is nothing that binds you to her, yet you’re the only one who never resists her.
🪞 Mary barges into the room clumsily for someone of her poise. She struggles to prop herself against the door, muddy skirt stiff in awkward folds. “My mind is a mess,” she exclaims, voice clear but breathless at the same time. “Where are you? Come settle me.” The second she spots you, she sulks over to toss her arms around your neck, finding a seat in your lap. Clearly she isn’t concerned about observing her usual decorum today. Her dress is heavy and splotched with muck you don’t care to identify, but you don’t mind holding her as the burdens of the day ease off her shoulders.
🎻 Antonio’s fingers instinctively travel to the liquor cart by the window. He hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights, but feeling around to find nothing but an empty platter gives him pause. One resigned cluck of his tongue later, you feel tendrils of hair coil around your waist and wrists. They pluck you up from your side of the bed and present you in front of him as if you’re nothing more than a doll. “Not a drop to console me?” he complains, knowing you’ve hidden his bottles again. Then his head tilts slightly, taking in your scent. You can practically see detention’s fiery glow return to his eyes. “No, perhaps you are right—there is something more intoxicating for me here.”
🔩 Percy - “Hm...” He’s scrutinizing you with such intensity that you wonder if something’s on your face. He leans over to take an exaggerated whiff of you, and your heart sinks in offense. You have half a mind to tell him you showered just that morning, so it’s probably not you — besides, he’s the one who’s been tangoing with carcasses all day — but Percy keeps a thoughtful look about him. “You smell full of life,” he muses. “That fragrance you wear, it was popular back in the day. Transports me to the city again.” He would know better than you; you just found this perfume in the trunk of a dusty old room. When he comes closer, clasping either hand around your face, you let him lose himself in the nostalgia. Moments like these are all you have to keep yourselves sane in the manor.
🐟 Grace’s mouth is pulled into a taut frown when she flings open the door. You can see a slight quiver in her lip if you squint. Her harpoon clatters on the ground and she drops onto your bed, braid falling out, face buried in a pillow. There’s little you can do except rub a soothing hand in circles on her back. When she peeks over her arm with a gentle plea in her eyes, you wonder if she’s asking for a deeper massage—but you don’t get the chance to ask before her hand latches onto your forearm, tugging you down to lie with her.
🕯️ Philippe settles for a glass of brandy and his bundle of sketches. He’s resting on the chaise by the foot of the bed, not his work desk where he’d usually be. Rather than drafting new ideas he’s simply thumbing through the old ones, mechanically, breaking from his cycle only for a sip of his glass. It’s like your lover’s been replaced by a puppet. You feel unnerved enough to intervene: stripping him first of his glass, his sketches, then his monocle, you tip him back onto the cushion. You expect him to complain about having to get back to work, but he doesn’t protest. Tonight is for him, you decide. As his dark hair sprawls out beneath him, you straddle his thighs, and his hand reaches up to cup your cheek. “I’m terribly jealous of this magic of yours,” he murmurs, faint lilt in his voice. “It’s always you who brings me back from the stars.”
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cheriden · 7 days ago
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˙ . ˚ ₊ 「 HOW TO FIND OUT IF YOUR ROOMMATE IS A VAMPIRE 」 ꜝꜝ
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── your new roommate has been acting weird, and you've taken it upon yourself to get to the bottom of it
𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ 。。。
pairings 。best friend!yeonjun x reader x friend!soobin
.ᐟ genre 。suggestive at most? crack & fluff
.ᐟ tags 。vampire au, blood sucking?? feeding?? idk, they're both kind of dumb but not really just kind of, erm nothing else i think
.ᐟ status 。oneshot | masterlist
✎ ๋࣭ ⭑ kind of corny and cheesy but idgaf it’s my blog!!! i totally forgot about this but it was at a point where i said yeah sure what the hell and decided to post it. another roommate hyuka au bc my schedules never go as planned so i just cut it short...i'll post an nsfw addition if people want it though
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You tap your pen against the counter as you watch your roommate do his “work,” typing away at his remote job on his laptop. You narrow your eyes at him with a pout, drumming the writing material faster on the surface. Kai sighs and looks up at you, mirroring your investigative expression. “Are you alright?”
You narrow your eyes further, nodding slowly. “Yeah, just finishing the points for my project.” He turns back to the screen, humming absentmindedly. “What’s it about?” You freeze, stuttering over yourself. “It’s—uh, about…Global warming.” He doesn’t seem convinced, raising an arched brow at you, but he lets it pass anyway. “Well, good luck on that.” 
It’s been a few months since the boy had moved in with you, and fewer when you began to realize his strange patterns.
You look down at your notes—and in bold, underlined writing are the words “HUENING KAI IS A VAMPIRE (proof).” If anyone were to ever see this pad, they’d call you comically insane. However as previously mentioned, you have proof. First, he never goes out during the day. Granted, he has a job and takes night classes—but other than that, he’s never gone on a grocery run with you or exited his room on the weekends unless the sun sets. Second, he always drinks from an insulated tumbler. It even stays by his side at the dinner table, opting for it rather than the rest of the glasses. Third, he never cooks with garlic. He’s pretty much the cook out of the two of you, recalling the incident of you somehow setting fire on the stove. Who cooks without garlic? A vampire, that’s who. Third, he always disappears at dawn. You’re not insane enough (yet) to follow him, especially when you can barely keep your eyes open after midnight. Sometimes you hear the front door and peek at his silhouette, a large duffel bag in his grasp—but your conscience (your laziness) forbids you from leaving the place unattended for the sole purpose of following him. Lastly, he’s unbelievably pretty. This point has a really large question mark on it in red ink, but you’ve never seen someone look so angelic, as if he would glimmer in the sunlight. Not that you would know, he mostly wears baggy clothes that are long in sleeves and pants. Like what? A vampire!
What would you even get out of this? He would’ve sucked your blood to death by now—but maybe splitting rent was just easier for him. If he was a vampire and he had no intention to murder you in cold blood, then you suppose you would let him stay.
What? He’s a great roommate, great cook, tidy, and fun to be around. Every time you think about it, it comes to a point where you realize he would make a great significant other. But that’s ridiculous, he's a vampire after all, so you conclude that you were just curious about him and his weird habits.
──
For step one, you decide to check for his reflection. Throughout your five second internet search along with your film viewing, you know for a fact that vampires do not have reflections. “Kai! Grab me a towel please!” You plead, voice shrill and loud as you patiently wait in the shower. Truthfully, you forgot your towel. But why not take this opportunity to test your hypothesis? Kai fumbles with the door knob as you peek through the corner of the curtain. “A-are you naked? My eyes are closed!” You turn to the mirror, fogged up by the steam. You tut in disapproval, wiping it away to reveal Kai’s apprehensive form. You pout, snatching the towel from him and wrapping it around yourself. “You can look now.” He peeks through his fingers and gasps at your still half-naked self as you sulk out of the bathroom. 
Admittedly, you almost quit after that encounter altogether. But one evening, Kai worked an odd shift, rendering him unable to cook dinner and leaving the meal up to you. He walks out of his room to a suspiciously clean and hazard free area, with food set on the table. “This looks… Edible.” He says shocked, earning an eye roll from you. “Do you not trust me to make dinner?” The other looks down, scratching his head. “Well, the last time you cooked I had to replace my nonstick pan. That thing’s been with me since elementary.” You huff, taking your seat across from him. “Whatever. I ordered it and put it on one of our plates. Happy?” He sits down as well, taking a serving for himself. “I'd be happier if you learned how to cook without burning the apartment down. It’s a very important life skill, you know.” You make a sound of annoyance, picking at your food. “I do other things—like cleaning. Besides, if I had skill, we wouldn’t be having garlic soy chicken.” The other freezes for a while and slowly looks up at you from his plate. “Does this have garlic?” You nod, pointing at the box over by the trash can. “Yup, it’s their most popular flavor. Honestly I like their other ones better—”
Kai spits the foot out and wraps his hands around his neck, dropping to the ground. “Holy shit!” You chant over and over, flailing around in circles as he lays on the floor. “In my room—desk drawer!” He hisses, and you frantically run across the place. You aren't even sure what you’re getting, but once you see a stack of epinephrine injections, you grab one and stab him with it. 
You kind of feel guilty for a moment, because you thought he was actually a vampire who couldn’t eat garlic. Turns out he just had an allergic reaction to garlic, which was rare but apparently not impossible.
──
The following morning, you meekly knock at the door to his room. Today is his free day, and you wanted to make it up to him. You bring him flowers and a new EpiPen injection, smiling at him when he opens the door. “I’m sorry for poisoning you yesterday.” And for trying to prove you were a bloodsucking supernatural immortal. “We can go out today if you want? My treat.” His smile forms the shape of a box with his eyebrows upturned, and you know he’s about to reject you. “That’s fine, but I’m really not in the mood for—” — “Come on, Kai! We can do anything you want, please?” You plead, leaning over and pouting at him. He sighs in defeat, straightening his posture once he realizes your words. “Anything?” You nod fervently. “Anything.”
“Then,” he starts, fidgeting with the ends of his hoodie, “it’s a date.” You blink up at him, thinking for a moment. Oh like a friendly date, bonding together! You nod again, grin wide and bright. “Okay!”
It was after the park walk and arcade that you realized it may be more than a friendly date. You’re shifting uncomfortably in your seat, watching Kai order something in French you won’t even try to pronounce. “Kai, I don’t think I can afford any of these.” You whisper, to which he shakes his head. “It’s alright, I got it. You must be sick of my home cooking by now.” — “That’s not true!” You exclaim rather loudly, “I love your cooking.” He giggles at you, and you’re not sure if it’s the warm lighting against the other’s complexion or seeing him in something other than sweats that makes you anxious all of a sudden. “I’ll pay you for this, I swear.” Kai pushes his hair back and rests his face in his palm. “You can pay me back with another date.” Another date?! 
Your thoughts are cut by the smell of the food set in front of you, and you spare no time in stuffing as much as you can into your mouth as the other watches you in endearment. 
──
When you get home, he stops at the front door and stops you from pulling out your keys. You raise an eyebrow in question, while he laughs awkwardly to himself. “Today was really fun. I’m almost entirely glad that you decided to almost kill me yesterday.” You grin sheepishly at his words, “Again, I’m so sorry.” You’re about to continue rambling, but the other is staring at you so intensely you quiet down. “...What is it?”
“Can I kiss you?”
It’s embarrassing how quickly you answer yes, and you cup your cheeks in your palms in an attempt to hide the blush forming underneath—but it’s no use. He grabs the end of your fingers and replaces your hands with his, inching his face closer to yours. His lips move slow and calculated, rhythm steady as you let him work his way through your mouth. Just as you reciprocate his movements, your tongue is nicked by something sharp, making you jolt upright. But Kai doesn’t let you go, instead he crashes himself deeper into you, sucking at the surface of your tongue and separating with a resounding pop. The both of you take heavy breaths for a while, your hair disheveled and his bottom lip coated in crimson sheen. “I knew it!” You exclaim, before shrinking within yourself. “You’re—uh, you’re a…” You trail off, body pressed against the wooden panel. “I’m a vampire.” He breathes out, “Wait, you knew?” 
You’re trembling, panic-stricken as you nudge the doorknob over and over. “That’s not gonna turn without the key.” He mumbles, and you point your key at him in an ill attempt at self-defense. “Are you gonna eat me?!” 
“Eat—what? No.” He says, using his own key to unlock the place. You squeak as he maneuvers you into the apartment, and he settles you down on the couch across from him. “But how?” You start, “I can see your reflection?” — “Uh, yeah? I’m a vampire, not a figment of your imagination.” You deflate at his words, leaning forward. “But all the novels say—” He cuts you off with laughter. “All the novels? Do you read supernatural romance?” Defensive, you raise your arms. “It’s more drama than romance! They say vampires can’t see their reflection because they have no souls.” The other raises a brow, “Ouch. What does that even mean?” You shrug, completely lost. 
“So what’s true? About like, myths about you?” Pursing his lips in thought, Kai settles against the cushions. “The mirror thing is just stupid. I guess the garlic thing is true.” You blink, dumbfounded. “That’s real?” The other nods. “If convulsing on the floor was any indicator, then yeah.” You furrow your brows, “What kind of old vampire ailment gets cured via EpiPen?” — “I mean—it kind of works like an allergy anyway. Contact dermatitis and whatnot.” You scoff. “And whatnot,” you mock, “what about going out at night and wearing baggy clothes outside? What about sneaking off at dawn?” Tilting his head, he replies calmly. “I told you, I have work during the day and I work out at night—what are you doing?” You reach for the notepad stored in one of the drawers, twirling your pen as you go through every item on your list. “What about the tumbler?” Narrowing his eyes, he asks, “The tumbler?”
“What’s in your tumbler? You have it with you at all times, hell you even took it out today! Is it blood?” You ask as if it were scandalous, voice low and in a whisper. “It’s really just water.” He replies, “I feed through a network of fully consenting humans.” 
You put the pad down, crossing your arms at him with a glare. “You’ve never asked me to help you. Is my blood not good enough for your bourgeois taste buds?” Confusion paints his face, quick to dispute your statement. “No, and believe me, your blood has been really tempting. It’s just that, well, I like you—and I thought maybe you would hate me or something.” 
“Oh.” Your palms turn clammy as you shut them on each other, thinking of more questions. “So how long were you—like were you always a vampire?” He shakes his head in disagreement, answering, “I turned a few years back actually.” You gaze at him empathetically. “I’m sorry.” He laughs, indifferent. “Sorry for what?” You return the laugh nervously, “I… Don’t know.” A few beats of silence pass before you speak up again. “Well! At least now your skin is glowing and—” “Oh that’s not a myth…” He admits, “I’ve always looked like this.” Clearing your throat, you reply: “Well, you’re very pretty.” This coaxes a genuine smile from him. “Thanks, you’re very pretty too.” The both of you stay completely still again, though this time Kai breaks the silence. “Was all this an attempt to find out if I was a vampire?” You chuckle lightly, half humiliated. “No… I kind of gave up when I saw your reflection. I promise I didn’t mean to give you an allergic reaction.” He disregards your apologies lightly with a raised hand, still in thought. “About the date…” You’re quick to explain, “Honestly I didn’t think it was going to be a date date.” His frown and the dent between his brows deepen. “So you don’t like me?” Picking at the fabric of the couch, you stammer through your words.“I don’t—not like you? I just haven’t thought about you like that until recently, I guess.”
“So what do you think now?” You gaze up to see him staring at you, an unreadable expression on his face. “As long as you don’t kill me I’m fine—I think.” He follows up immediately, “Does that mean you’ll feed me? I’ll just take a little, I swear.” You wince at his eagerness, rubbing the skin of your nape. “Does it hurt?” Kai draws back at your reluctance, feigning nonchalance with a dismissive wave of hand. “A bit, yeah. But! I heard it makes some people feel good.” — “Good how?” The other shrugs, lips forming into a line. “Not sure.” Your curiosity has always led you to uncomfortable positions, this being the most life threatening one so far. Honestly, you should just drop this whole thing altogether.
“You’ll stop when I tell you to, right?” His face lights up again, jumping over to your side of the sofa. “Of course.”
Hesitant, you move away the hair behind your neck and Kai takes it as a sign to move even closer. He grabs your waist and hoists you up to straddle him, cheeks flushed when he looks into your eyes and realizes he’s gotten ahead of himself. After you reassure him with a peck on the lips, he dips his head over to the junction between your shoulder and face, looking up at you for a signal. Milliseconds after you nod, he sinks his teeth in slowly, rupturing the barrier of flesh. He halts for a minute before taking, as if the slightest movement would set you off. He can feel a squeak vibrate through your throat and your thighs tense against his hips, slightly trembling.
True to his word, he lets you go once he feels your grip tighten at his arms. He licks over the wound he created and kisses it, meeting your eyes again. You’re stunned in place, the only movement coming from rapid blinking and taking in breaths.
“Woah.”
He cups the sides of your face, searching your expression for discontent. “Woah? Woah bad or woah good?” You lean your head back and stare into the ceiling, lightly gripping the collar of his shirt. “As in I feel lightheaded—and weird. Feels super weird. Like I’m tipsy.” Gasping, the other fidgets in place, your weight keeping him down. “Oh no.” He starts to panic, but you shut it down by smiling at him, albeit loopy. “Don’t worry, I’m fine—great even.” You assure him, covering his face in short kisses before resting your cheek against his chest. Sighing in relief, Kai plays with the top of your head for a moment, before you grab both his wrists and look at him with sparkles in your eyes. “Can we do that again?”
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halloooo i took a long break and this is kind of a warm-up back hehe i have like 3 fics in active development (plus one of the two/three part-ers i started last year, but it iz what it iz!
tag .ᐟ @hyunj00
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oddinary4bts · 1 year ago
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November Sun | jjk
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☆summary: whenever he breaks, the november sun shines on him. and jungkook chases you across the sky - but you've gone some place he can't reach you now.
☆pairing: Jungkook x reader (I genuinely don't think the gender is ever mentioned? please let me know if it is so I can adjust this here), mentions-ish of Namjoon x reader
☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, it deals with heavy themes)
☆genre: grief au/funeral au?, exes au, angst
☆warnings: angst, like. Just angst. OC is dead and Jungkook is grieving her. Curses words, very light mentions of sex, flashbacks of moments when jungkook broke. mentions of christianism (the funerals are held in a church), mentions of alcohol, jealousy. Namjoon is a broken man as well
☆word count: 3.7k
☆a/n: I started writing this tonight because I was sad and then just realized I won't have the strength to look back on it ever again so I'm posting it even tho it hasn't been beta-ed, and even tho the person that makes my moodboards is unavailable rn. Idc. It needed to be out of my system, and now it is.
☆a/n pt2: I know this piece is extremely heavy. If you ever need to speak, please reach out to me. My blog is a safe space for every single one of you <3
☆☆☆☆☆
                The church is a tall building. Grand, elegant in its simplicity, though it cuts against the blue sky up above in stark lines, shaped like a prison.
Jungkook thinks life has become a prison a while ago.
It’s a mystery, why your family chose this space for your funeral. You never believed, never practiced. Is it a betrayal to mark your passing in a space that feels so unlike you?
Jungkook thinks it is.
He sighs, chases the heaviness away the same way the clouds chase themselves in the sky up above. He doesn’t know how the sun is shining in the blue expanse of the sky. It’s November, yet the day is warm, the sun is blindingly glowing. It feels like a crime – how can the sun shine in a world deprived of your existence?
Jungkook doesn’t want to know.
Only knows that he’s watched from afar the people that gathered on the front steps. Chatting, heads hung low and shoulders bent forward. He heard sniffles, he heard laughs, and he just waited for everyone to go in to get closer.
Jungkook doesn’t know why he was invited. Why someone from a distant past figured he would need to be here, to share his grief with people that could understand.
Though Jungkook thinks no one can understand.
He remembers you, in all your glory. His first love, when he had been a stupid college kid who didn’t know what he wanted in life. You were two years older, and now... and now one day he’ll be older than you. Because you've stopped aging, you came and went like a moment in time, when he'll still be here for who fucking knows how long.
He chases the thought away with a long inhale, holds the air in knowing that it’s choking him up before he lets it out on a sigh.
You were beautiful. A star that walked the Earth, only to return to the night sky above far too soon. He had loved you dearly, in his own twisted way. Had tried to be what you sought, what you needed, until he had realized he was never going to be enough.
Would you still be alive today, if he had fought harder?
*****
                “I’m not doing this,” you said. “I’m so fucking done with your indecision, with your fear of commitment.”
Jungkook scoffed. “Please, you graduated and now you think you’re so high above me. Get down from the fucking horse, Y/n, it’s not going to bring us anywhere.”
He’d said the words hoping that they would hurt you. And they did: he saw you physically recoil as if he’d punched you. As if the words had been a physical blow, and not just letters of the alphabets shaped into words and sound, into arrows to pierce that beautiful soul of yours.
“Maybe I don’t want us to go somewhere anymore,” you replied after a quiet moment of breaking hearts.
“I didn’t mean that.”
“I know.” You sighed, slightly shaking your head as your eyes fell to the floor between you and him. “I know, but I mean it.”
“Please,” was all Jungkook thought to reply.
“You say please all the time,” you told him. “You beg me, and for what? We always circle back to fighting, to hurting each other.” You paused, and though you were avoiding his features he could see you blinking back tears. “Maybe we aren’t supposed to be together at all.”
“Don’t say that,” Jungkook warned. “Don’t you fucking say that. I love you. Isn’t that enough for you?”
“I love you too, Jungkook,” you answered. “I’ve loved you since the first day I met you at that stupid party last year.”
Jungkook felt the tear rolling down his cheek, felt the gravity pulling on his heart until it was shattering on the ground.
“Then why stop now?” he asked. “Give me time, Y/n. I’ll graduate, and I’ll be able to move in with you, and to provide for you and give you everything that you need.”
You sighed heavily, finding courage to finally meet his gaze. At the stark finality shining behind your pupils, Jungkook’s knees weakened. His whole fucking body weakened, ready for the blow.
For the end that was coming for you and him like a car barreling down a dead-end street.
“But I’m tired of waiting,” you answered. “I don’t want to spend my life waiting around for someone.”
“I’m still in college, I just can’t move in with you right now…”
“I know, Jungkook. I know.”
He wanted to fight. Wanted to tell you to stay in his dorm tonight, and to never leave again. But he could tell that you were already gone.
So he steeled himself. Readied himself to let you go even though you were the blood in his veins.
“I’m holding you back, aren’t I?”
You wiped a tear on your cheek, blurring behind those in his gaze. “You are.”
He choked on a sob, hiding his eyes behind his hand as if that would stop the breaking. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” you reassured him. “We just aren’t at the same place in life anymore.”
An empty silence surrounded you, so loud Jungkook could hear every beat of his heart in his ears, could feel the walls pressing in.
“I don’t want you to go,” he softly said.
“I know,” you murmured. “I…” You choked on a sob, and it took you a moment before you managed to continue. “I’m sorry.”
He laughed, a sound so devoid of joy he wondered if he’d ever feel happiness again. “Please don’t be. You’re allowed to want more.”
“I wish I didn’t.”
Anger rose up on the horizon of Jungkook’s conscience, and he pushed it away. He refused to be angry at you, refused to put the blame on you when you made it clear that you wanted him to move in so long ago, and he disregarded it without even once thinking about it.
“I’ll find you again,” he promised, voice strained and heavy with emotion. “I’ll graduate and find you.”
You stepped closer to him, gently cupping his cheek. “Go find someone that loves you for what you are, Jungkook.”
“And you don’t?”
“I don’t want you to settle for someone that asks too much for you,” you explained, renewed silver lining your eyes. “Find someone that loves you for who you are, right now.”
“Fuck that,” he choked out, and he pulled you flush against his chest. “Fuck this nonsense. ”
“I’m so sorry,” you cried against him.
“Don’t be,” he reassured you, though he was crying too. “Don’t be. Give me a few years. I’ll have it all figured out in a few years.”
*****
                The priest at the front of the church is going on and on about something that Jungkook doesn’t care to listen to. It’s impersonal, nothing like you, like the vibrant girl he remembers. So he lets his memory guide him to you, where you’re awaiting him. Your lips on his, your hand running through his hair. Your own hair catching in the wind that time you’d gone hiking, and he’d believed being at the top of the mountain with you felt like he had won in life.
Or that time you’d driven on the coast, windows down, screaming the lyrics to a song he can’t listen to anymore. Now the song is haunted by ghosts of a past he never learned to let go, perhaps because for months after the breakup he’d kept the conviction that he’d find his way back to you. He’d believed it the same way he believed the sun would always rise in the morning. A simple truth of nature, that nothing could ever break.
Except a car accident, apparently. Because all it took was a car accident to wipe you off the surface of the Earth, to take your light and shove it into shadows, into darkness and a void so wide he knows he’ll never find you again.
But he’d believed he’d find his way back to you. Never let anyone in after you, for the months and years it took him to graduate because he always knew he’d find his way back to you. You were his silver lining, the finish line at the end of the race. On a November day, just as sunny as today, Jungkook reached that finish line.
He did find you again, only you never knew.
*****
                Jungkook had never felt so light before. Like he had grown wings, like he was soaring in the clouds up above. Though the sun was out, the weather was cold, wind running cold fingers through the lapels of his coat until he found himself shivering as he made his way to the flower store.
He’d get the biggest bouquet for you, and then he’d head to where he knew from a common friend that you lived now. It was Saturday, and he hoped to catch you unaware, to catch you in the middle of cleaning your apartment the same way that you cleaned it back when you were dating.
The image of you, with your hair pulled back in a high ponytail as you danced around instead of sweeping the floor shone in his mind, brighter than the star in the sky above.
He bought the flowers, heart beating fast in his chest. Because it was time. It was finally time to go home, to tell you that he did everything he said he would, that he changed and now had a job that could support what you both wanted. He wanted to ask you out, and in his dreams you had been answering yes every single time since he had decided to go see you.
His heart fluttered as he gently rested the flowers on his passenger seat, careful not to damage them. Memories floated to him, and a smile grew on his lips as he remembered you, screaming out the window that day you had driven along the coast. You had stopped to watch the sunset in the waves, and he’d kissed you stupid on his back seat until every single inch of your skin knew about his love.
He couldn’t wait to create new memories with you.
He drove carefully, enjoying the warmth of the sun now that he was safely hidden from the wind. You actually didn’t live too far from where he did now, and soon enough he parked his car near your building. He got out of the vehicle, almost running to the other side in his excitement to grab the bouquet on the passenger seat. When it was safely tucked in his hand, Jungkook shut the car door, locked it, and started walking to your building.
He didn’t even know which apartment was yours. He believed fate would guide him, and so he crossed the street to your building, trusting the universe for what was to come next.
He heard your laugh before he saw you. Love swelled in his chest, and he wondered if you were laughing because you’d seen him, because you’d known that he’d come back for you.
And then he saw you. The wind was ruffling your hair, which he assumed had prompted the laugh. Your eyes were closed, hands struggling to push the wild strands behind your ears.
You were more beautiful than he remembered. Shone brighter, with the same stuff that stars consisted of. He was struck for a moment, watching you with his bouquet hoping that you’d open your eyes and see him.
The world slowed down to a stop, and time halted, and Jungkook watched you, feeling at home for the first time in years.
The illusion fractured the instant someone else came into view, making him realize that you hadn’t been laughing at the wind. No, perhaps your laughter took root in the dimples gracing the man’s cheeks as he smiled at you, as he pecked your forehead before grabbing your hand.
Jungkook ducked behind a car, clutching the flower bouquet like a lifeline the moment that you turned towards him. Did you hear his heart breaking? Did you hear the mockery in the November sun rays – you’d broken up on a similar day, years ago.
Jungkook couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think around the shattering of his heart, around the blood turning to ice in his veins as he heard you speak to the man – Namjoon, he heard you call him.
He would have rather not known the name.
Still Jungkook drank in the sound of your voice, trying to shape it into the words he was so willing to hear you say today. It didn’t work, and soon enough your voice disappeared, leaving him in a deafening silence of wind and sun and the realization that after all, he had come back too late.
Perhaps he should have known that he'd be too late.
*****
                When Jungkook received the call last week, he’d sat outside in the silence until he thought his eardrums would start bleeding. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t breathed, hadn’t done anything other than to stare at the fading light of the sun.
He wonders, why is it that whenever he breaks, November sun is shining high above? As if the universe takes pleasure in his torment, in undoing him until he barely counts as a human being anymore.
He got pissed out drunk that night. Last time he had been as drunk was when he had found out you were dating someone new, that day he had come to find you.
And now he wonders, if he had approached you that day, would you still be dead today? Would life still have put you on that road with its drunk driver so that you could meet your end?
Or would you be laughing at some dumb comment he’d make, telling him that he’s stupid with eyes so full of love he wouldn’t be able to do anything else but agree with you?
It’s hard to tell. So, he doesn’t try to figure it out – he has an eternity ahead of himself to figure out how to live without you anyway.
Maybe in all his misfortune Jungkook actually had some luck. He’s learned to grieve you a while ago already, and perhaps grieving someone that still lives is harder than grieving someone that’s passed. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t think he knows anything. Just that, so far back in the past he should have said fuck it and move in with you. It was such a simple request, but he had been too young and dumb, and he’d forever live with the regrets of it.
If someone from your family notices his presence at the funeral, recognizes him from your shared past, they don’t say. Especially not as the end of the ceremony comes before he’s had a chance to really take in the picture of you, smiling, over there next to the urn with your ashes.
You’re ashes now. Everything that made you – your laugh, your smile, the way you carried yourself with that simple elegance – all of it is gone to be replaced with mere ashes.
He doubts they can hold the truth of your essence, but then again he doesn’t think anything can, or anything ever will again.
He blinks away the tears as they come, leaving the ceremony like a whisper in the wind. He doesn’t want to speak to your family, doesn’t want to see them coddling the man that you loved, that survived the accident when he should have been the one to go.
Jealousy and selfishness are ugly, Jungkook realizes. But it’s easier to hate the man that took you away from him, no matter how unknowingly he did it.
And Jungkook tried to hate you once. He tried hard, in the months after that fated November day, when you’d laughed to that man’s joke, smiled when he’d smiled that soft dimpled smile of his. He had tried, because hating you felt like it was the only way he wouldn’t hurt. But he still hurt – he still hurts.
All he’s been able to do in his life since you broke up is hurt, and he highly doubts he’ll ever feel differently again.
Perhaps he’ll grow numb. Perhaps he should have grown numb a while ago.
At least that’s what he’s telling himself days later, when he’s looking at the tombstone they picked out for you. The finality of your name and the dates, the ending, is unnerving. He wishes it was fake, wishes it was a joke, and that he didn’t spend most of his life loving someone that moved on to a new love in just a few years.
It’s been over a decade and he hasn’t moved on even a little bit.
He kicks the ground, mad at the leaves littering the ground where you’re buried, as if they’re sullying you. And as if laughing at him, sun rays pierce through the clouds up above, that dreaded November sun making an appearance when it should stay gone.
He allows himself to cry. To break down, to sit on the ground and curse everything and everyone that’s ever been between you and him. He curses his stupidity, curses the sun and the leaves and the etchings on the stone. He hates everything. Hates himself, hates you, hates the whole fucking universe for taking you away, for not giving him the chance to be with you.
That’s how Namjoon finds him. Jungkook’s tears have receded, and he’s just sitting there, an empty shell that once held love and laughter and your lips on his. He hears the scuffle of Namjoon’s steps, of his cane as he walks up the path.
The man’s features are grave when Jungkook can’t help but glance towards him, sees him ambling up the path with that cane, the only indication that he too was in that car accident. And Jungkook wonders if Namjoon knows about him. If Namjoon knows that he wasn’t the first man whose love for you was a bottomless ocean, one Jungkook has drowned in time and time again since you broke up.
Namjoon remains standing, and Jungkook remains sitting. Like there’s an understanding between them, and silence conveys more than words could. Jungkook doesn’t want to move, and Namjoon clearly doesn’t have anywhere to go.
Jungkook thinks the Earth has revolved around the sun at least once before Namjoon scrapes his throat.
“It’s hard to believe that she’s gone, isn’t it?” he speaks, deep voice carrying the weight of the universe.
Jungkook doesn’t deign reply as his eyes fill with tears, though he refuses to let them out right now.
Especially not in front of the man you loved after him.
“You’re Jungkook, aren’t you?”
The simple sentence makes Jungkook lose it. He hides his face in his hands, his whole soul bleeding out under the November sun.
“She told me about you,” Namjoon continues, and Jungkook is convinced he hears pain, tears and grief laced with Namjoon’s words.
What did you tell him, Jungkook wonders? Did you tell Namjoon that you should have waited for Jungkook, that you should have given him a chance to become what you needed?
“She loved you a lot,” Namjoon adds after a silence, and he chokes on a sob. “She never forgot about you.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Jungkook asks with that broken voice, raspy with disuse.
He hasn’t been able to speak since you died.
“You deserve to grieve. She loved and loved, and I wish it would have been enough for her to live…”
“Stop,” Jungkook begs. “Please.”
Namjoon falls silent, offering salvation to Jungkook, though Jungkook doesn’t know if he deserves it.
Would he have been able to offer salvation to someone in his position if the situation was reversed? He highly doubts it.
“It’s just…” he trails off when he finds words again. “You got fucking years with her. You got years of loving and-“ it breaks on a sob. “And you were fucking engaged.” Jungkook pulls at his hair. “You were engaged, and all I got was months. Not even a full year.”
“I’m sorry man,” Namjoon answers, voice so broken Jungkook wonders who’s suffering the most.
He doesn’t think it’s himself.
“Was she happy?” Jungkook eventually asks, once he can’t stand the silence hanging around. Once he can’t stand the etchings on the stone, the void in the universe that used to be filled with you.
“I made her as happy as I could,” Namjoon replies truthfully, his voice strained but not as pained anymore. As if he’s reached a conclusion, clarity filling his mind.
Not needing to hear more, Jungkook gets up, dusting himself off.
“Good talk,” he says, fighting against the next onslaught of tears, and then he’s storming off.
Storming away from you, from everything that you meant to him. And maybe the sun rays really are mocking him in that beautiful November sky, because Namjoon says, “I don’t think she ever truly was happy after you, though.”
Jungkook stops, convinced someone just stabbed him right in the heart. He doesn’t think the organ can beat anymore, doesn’t think he can live anymore. He just wants to be dust on the wind, to be forgotten, and to stop fucking feeling all the time.
“She was calling off the engagement,” Namjoon continues. “She…” Jungkook turns, and he doesn’t think he’s ever seen such agony as the one that graces Namjoon’s features right now. “She said she shouldn’t get married to me when she still loved another.”
Clouds pass in front of the November sun, and Jungkook remembers the smile on your face whenever you’d catch his gaze. He remembers the way you’d lovingly cupped his cheek even when you were breaking up with him. He still feels the ghost of your fingers on his skin as he holds Namjoon’s broken gaze.
He holds Namjoon’s broken gaze, unable to offer the man salvation. It might make him a monster, might make him selfish and jealous and everything that he finds disgusting about humanity. But Jungkook doesn’t care.
Not when he realizes that perhaps, perhaps he’s the one that you’re waiting for on the other side of the veil, so that you can rest in the eternity of afterlife together.
And perhaps, perhaps there’s some sort of beauty in the thought.
☆☆☆☆☆
I am crying and in pain and I am sending everyone that read this whole thing lots of love and if you need to talk just hit me up bc grief is a bitch and we hate her and I just wish I could take everyone's grief away
All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2023. Do not copy, repost or translate.
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maraudereestauderelb · 2 months ago
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What are the Chances VI (Troy Otto)
Let me know if you want to be tagged in future parts :)
Tag list: @mischiefnevermanaged89-blog
Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V
Masterlist
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The next day, Y/N had spent hours trying to catch a glimpse of Troy, but he was actively avoiding her. Whether it was during work on the ranch or during lunch time, he was always just out of reach, disappearing around corners or suddenly being too busy. 
Enough was enough. 
Finally she spotted him, disappearing in one of the storage sheds. Her chance! He couldn’t run away from her forever. Who did he even think he was? Kiss her and act like it was nothing? 
Quickly she rushed after him. There was no way, for him to ecape now. He was sorting through supplies, but his body went rigid the moment he realized she was there. 
“Troy,” she called, her voice firmer than she felt. “Stop avoiding me.” 
He didn’t turn around, didn’t acknowledge her at first, just kept his hands busy with a box of tools. “I’m not avoiding you,” he muttered, his back still to her. 
“Bullshit,” Y/N snapped, stepping closer. Was he now not even looking at her anymore? “You’ve been dodging me all day, and you know it. We need to talk about what happened last night.” 
“There’s nothin’ to talk about,” he said, finally turning to face her. His jaw was clenched, his eyes hard. “It didn’t mean anything.” 
His words stung, more than Y/N wanted to admit. “It didn’t mean anything?” she repeated, her voice tight with disbelief. “Then why did you kiss me?” 
He was unbelievable! 
Troy shrugged, leaning against the table behind him. “It was a mistake, alright? A slip. It doesn’t mean anything.” 
Y/N glared at him, her anger rising. “You don’t get to kiss me and then act like it was nothing, Troy. You can’t just brush this off.” 
She wasn’t sure why she his words triggered her the way they did. Had she hoped the kiss had meant anything? 
He scoffed, crossing his arms defensively. “What do you want me to say? That it meant something? It didn’t.” His eyes flicked away for a moment, and Y/N saw the conflict in them. 
Good question. What did she want him to say?? 
“Liar,” she hissed, stepping right up to him now, her anger boiling over. “You’re lying, and we both know it.” 
Troy’s eyes flashed with frustration, and he suddenly straightened up, his face inches from hers. “What the hell do you want from me, huh? You think I’ve got this all figured out? I don’t.” 
“Then stop pretending like you do!” she shot back, her voice shaking with emotion. “I don’t know what’s going on between us, but don’t stand there and act like it’s nothing when it’s clearly not.” 
Troy clenched his jaw, his fists tightening at his sides. “You think you know me, huh?” he growled. “You don’t know what kind of person I am, Y/N. I’m not good for you. I’m not good for anyone.” 
Her heart raced, her emotions swirling in a mess of confusion and anger. “Maybe I don’t know you, but I know what I feel.” 
Oh no, she didn’t. 
“And what’s that?” he demanded, his voice harsh. 
Y/N met his gaze, her chest heaving. Unsure of what to reply, she answered honestly. “I feel like you’re just as confused as I am,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I feel like there’s something more going on here, whether you want to admit it or not.” 
Troy stared at her, his breathing uneven. For a long moment, neither of them moved. Then, with a sudden burst of frustration, he grabbed her by the waist, pulling her toward him. His lips crashed against hers in a heated, desperate kiss, full of anger and something else she couldn’t quite place. 
This time, Y/N didn’t hesitate. She kissed him back with just as much intensity, her hands gripping his shirt, pulling him closer. Her head was spinning while she inhaled his scent. Their bodies pressed together, the heat between them almost unbearable. It felt like close wasn’t close enough and his grip on her waist only got tighter with every passing moment. 
When they finally pulled apart, both out of breath, Troy’s hands stayed on her waist. His forehead rested against hers. His eyes remained closed, as if he was trying to steady himself. 
“I don’t know what the hell this is,” he admitted, his voice rough, almost defeated. “I don’t know what’s goin’ on. And…” He opened his eyes, meeting hers with intensity. “It scares the hell out of me.” 
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chil-aglia · 4 days ago
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Speaking of Leo and Ronin can I request a fic about them. Not sure if this SFW or NSFW since it’s attempted but here is idea.
Leo help Ronin to bring him to an hotel thinking he’s (in actuality the spring came early than usual and do his heat so he’s not prepared). The smell from Leo is driving Ronin crazy as he finds intoxicating (just like Adri) and pounds on Leo, kissing him, give a hickey on neck. Leo is trying pull Ronin away but Ronin’s lust making him strong (Leo’s terrified but also turn up), when he thinks Ronin was about to go further he panics and lets out a chirp snapping Ronin to senses. Realizing this Ronin covers Leo with blanket, apologize and locks himself in bathroom. Leo despite everything (even being rivals) he keeps him company from other side by talking to him. Is that okay idea?
For sure I’ll write it! It won’t be NSFW but I will put a warning as it does imply it to be somewhat NSFW (If people want a NSFW version of this fic then I’ll absolutely make one and post it on the NSFW blog)
sorry this took awhile to write, been busy and on holiday and stuff.
This lil story is not canon to the main story btw!
Oh and I finally drew a quick lil picture for this lil fic!
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Not Yourself
Warnings; Nothing explicit really. Swearing, kissing/making out. NSFW is implied. Non-con kissing and touching (nothing too explicit though), mention of dropping, vomiting (only briefly), etc.
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Ronin felt off all day from the moment he woke up. He felt heavy and tired but at the same time he felt normal.
It was strange and for a moment he thought he must’ve been sick. But he as stated earlier, he felt fine. So he pushed back any thoughts and went on about his day.
The day itself was fine. Doing his job of gaining information and reporting it to Draxum (as much as he hates it, but it’s all for Adriaen and the others) and then he’s back to doing his own thing. It’s getting late, but he doesn’t want to go home, he’s not tired at all. But he can’t help himself, he could feel something is off with him. What was it? Something he ate? Not enough sleep? Is he in heat?
He paused at the last thought before shaking his head and letting out a light chuckle of disbelief. Of course he’s not in heat. It’s not even spring yet, he’s got time.
A sudden whiff of…something caught his attention. It was sweet, was that lavender he was smelling in the air?
What the…?
He couldn’t help but follow it, I mean he had nothing better to do so may as well go on an adventure. So he tread where he stepped, following his nose to the strange but alluring scent.
He didn’t quite pay attention to how long he was walking for but eventually he found what he was chasing…or who he was chasing. He crouched slightly on the roof as he peered over the edge to see Leo strolling by, his sword placed over his shoulder.
Ronin smirks, shaking his head before jumping down and landing in front of Leo who let out a yelp as he stumbled back, almost tripping over. “Holy shit!” Leo pants out before placing a hand over his plastron and glaring at Ronin who grins playfully, arms crossed.
“You need like a bell or something. Who just sneaks up on someone like that?!”
“Oh relax. Just thought I stop by and say hi.”
Ronin walks over and leans in slightly with a sly look. “Hi.”
Leo scoffs and rolls his eyes, turning away. “You’re such a creep you know that?” He huffs, which earned a slight chuckle coming from Ronin. Ronin watched Leo, he couldn’t smell the scent from earlier anymore, but he did feel heavy.
His head felt like it was slowly splitting as he grunts and placed a hand over his forehead, using the wall as support.
Fuck…what is this?
“Hey…you okay?”
Leo was talking to him, his voice a bit muffled but he could understand his words and what he was asking. Was he okay? No…no he wasn’t, he’s been off all day and he’s not even sure why.
Ronin pants, feeling hot as Leo hesitantly placed a hand on Ronin’s shoulder. Checking on him in concern. For Leo, he’s never seen Ronin act like this before. “Oh boy, uh….do you need like a hospital or something?”
“No…just…take me to a hotel or whatever. I can’t be bothered to go home.”
Leo hums but made no complaints as he helps Ronin to stand up right, he slung his ōdachi over his shoulder in its holster before slinging Ronin’s arm around him. Leading him away to the nearest hotel, having to go through the Hidden City to find one first.
Finding one was easy, Leo booked a room for Ronin and helped him up to the elevator and to his room. Using the keycard he received as he opens the door and drags Ronin inside.
Ronin felt a familiar sensation swirling inside him as he lets Leo hold him. He didn’t want to believe it but everything he was feeling was what he would normally feel when he was in his heat. Which was odd considering it’s not spring. So why…why did it come early? He never comes early!
Leo was no help at all. His scent was strong and alluring. But Leo must’ve not noticed. Ronin’s instinct was begging him to let loose and jump at Leo, have his way with the slider. But he couldn’t just do that…he needs to control himself. He’ll be fine once Leonardo leaves him in the room.
“So, obviously you aren’t well. But lucky for you, I’m something of a medic!” Leo smirks proudly at himself, letting go of Ronin and sitting him down on the bed as he turns away.
Leave.
You need relief.
“Though, I’m still a newbie when it comes to that area. But, I know the basics. You’re probably just running a bad fever.”
Take him.
Leo leave…
Ronin held his head, the animal instincts kicking at him to forget everything and devour Leo. The said slider was ranting on about his talents in the medical field but Ronin wasn’t paying attention, he kept his eyes focused on the ground, focusing on something other than Leonardo.
“Oh yeah, I should probably check your temperature.” Leo mumbled, walking back over to Ronin as he gently placed a hand over Ronin’s forehead.
He was so close. Too close!
Something inside Ronin had him snapped. The scent of a potential mating partner stronger than ever the moment Leo got into arms length. Ronin pounced onto Leo, making the latter yelp before making contact with the ground. He groans, head hurting from the sudden fall, he glares and was about to shout insults at his rival, but he didn’t get a chance to utter a word out.
Ronin, not caring or paying attention to what he was doing, started kissing Leo on the mouth.
…what?
Leo wasn’t registering what was happening to him exactly, but he shook himself awake as he growls and started to move his head and push Ronin away.
“Get…off me!”
Ronin didn’t respond, attacking Leo’s skin and lips, tasting whatever he could from the slider. He had instincts of his heat taking over him.
Leo shuddered, face twisted in disgust and overwhelmed from how aggressive Ronin was being whenever Leo tried to push him away. But Ronin was too strong.
”Stop it! You creep!”
Ronin hisses, pinning Leo down with an animalistic glare that had Leo stare wide eyed in brief shock. He was shaking, Leo could tell that Ronin was experiencing his heat, he’d seen these unusual behaviours and looks from his brothers and Adriaen before when they went into heat.
“Let go…Ronin, get off.”
Leo tried to remain calm, but his body was shaking in fear at what might occur.
Wait was it fear….?
Leo felt his cheeks go hot, and his body itself was eager for more touching and roughness. That’s when Leo realised a horrific moment.
Fuck, don’t tell me I’m getting a kick out of this! No, no! I am not getting turned on by this situation!
He shakes his head, trying to distract himself from the unnecessary thoughts. Ronin on the other hand took a brief sniff, he caught the scent of Leo emitting out a alluring smell, taking the said scent as a green sign to mate.
Leo gasps when Ronin suddenly rolled him over to lay on his plastron, pushing Leo’s ass into the air. Leo felt uncomfortable, he was forced to present himself to Ronin, and he knew what was going to happen.
He’s going to fuck me…fuck, I don’t want that! I’m not ready!
Leo tried to worm away from Ronin, crawling far but Ronin only grabbed his legs and pulled him back, pushing Leo’s ass against Ronin’s plastron as Leo shakes, eyes widening in panic.
He didn’t want this.
Ronin, began mounting on him, his hands sliding under Leo’s plastron and hoisted him up slightly to be on his hands and knees. His muscles tense in fear as he could feel Ronin inching closer and closer to his vulnerable body.
CHIRP!
Leo normally didn’t vocalise his chirps and churrs and other turtle sounds. He believed he grew out of that phase. But in this situation he had to try something if words weren’t getting through to Ronin.
Ronin had stopped doing everything. The chirping snapping him out of his daze as he pants and took a moment to look around. He didn’t remember what exactly was happening.
But the moment he gaze down at Leo, he immediately felt dread.
Leo was on his chest, body shaking. His green skin covered in bruises and bites and while he couldn’t exactly see a clear look on Leo’s face, he just knew that Leo was scared.
He then took a moment to notice the position he was in. Being so close to Leo that he was basically mounting him.
Oh fuck….
Ronin froze as he quickly placed a hand over his mouth. God he felt sick. He scattered away from Leo, and ran over to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him and sliding to the floor, his shell up against the door as he gags.
Looking around he sees a trash bin, he brings it close to him and vomits whatever bile was creeping up his throat.
His own body slightly shook as he pants and hunched forward. I can’t believe I did that…to Leo. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I almost…I could’ve…
“Shit!” He yells, clutching his head with his hands. He felt guilt, he was disgusted at himself for doing such a thing to the red eared slider. He almost…forced himself to go inside.
Leo took a breath in to gather his thoughts as he sits up, looking over to the bathroom that Ronin closed himself in.
Leo frowns, before wincing when brief pain struck a his body. He placed a finger over one of the hickeys that Ronin left on his neck. Leo shivered before pulling his finger away and hesitantly crawled over to the bathroom.
He knew Ronin was no doubt hiding away to not face Leo. Too ashamed of himself. But Leo was also aware that it wasn’t entirely Ronin’s fault. Being in heat tends to do influence your own body that you can’t always control yourself.
Leo pressed his own shell to the bathroom door.
“Shit!”
Leo flinched at the comment from the other side of the door before sighing and leaning back.
“You okay in there….?”
Leo wasn’t expecting a response straight away, a tense silence filling the air before a faint voice replied back.
“…no.”
Leo hums, yeah he figured as much.
“Just so you’re aware. I understand your actions. You’re in heat right? Don’t worry about it.”
Ronin held back a bitter scoff. Don’t worry about it? If anything he should worry about it.
“…are you okay?”
Leo blinked at the question as he hums in thought. “Well, I guess so? I got a few bruised and marks from you, which by the way, I’ll have to double my skincare routine now. But other than that, doing fine.”
A light snort from Ronin was enough to make Leo lightly grin. “Please…if you were already on a skincare routine, you’re doing a shit job of it.”
“Uh excuse me?! I’ll have you know, my skin is glowing!”
“Glowing from radiation?”
Leo growls lightly at the banter, but he doesn’t take the insults to heart. He instead exhales and gets comfortable against the door. A moment of silence between them.
“I’m sorry….for doing all that to you.”
Leo blushed, he wasn’t used to Ronin apologising with such sincerity. “It’s okay. I’m not mad or anything. Like I said, I understand that you weren’t all there. Though I have to ask…how did you not know you were in heat? Surely you know the times that it comes?”
Ronin hums, pulling his legs up against his chest. “I don’t know. It normally occurs in the spring so…I don’t know why it decided to come early. It’s never done that before.” He hissed bitterly at himself. He grunts when he felt the familiar wave. A wave of natural instincts trying to take control again.
“You should leave. I’ll be fine now. I can take it from here alone.”
Leo widens his eyes, standing up on his legs and staring at the bathroom door with concern. “You sure? I can stay—“
“No!”
The slider flinched at the yell, “No, just…I can handle it from here. Thank you, but for both our sakes, it’s better to leave.” Ronin explains himself, panting heavily.
“…okay.”
Leonardo turns away as he grabs his ōdachi and sliced open a blue portal. He was about to step inside but he paused.
“Um…if you do need something though. Just uh, text Adriaen to ask for my number.”
“Heh…all right. Thank you…Leo.”
Leo was surprised that Ronin actually said his name. He was used to being called Bluey or some other weird nickname. But hearing Ronin call Leo by his name well…
Leo clears his throat and quickly stepped inside the portal, arriving just outside the manhole cover that led to the lair. He breathes in and made his way down.
Ronin remained in the bathroom, he knew Leo had left but he still didn’t want to leave the safety of the bathroom. That and he had another dilemma.
He had looked down and saw that he had dropped.
“Fuck.”
Leo snuck into his room, avoiding his family and trying to sleep but he couldn’t. He thought about Ronin and what he was doing to him. And while Leo would never admit this to anyone, but…he had been turned on the whole time that was occurring.
He widens his eyes when he felt something happen to his body. He pulls the blanket up slightly to look down at himself before he blushes and stared blankly at the bedroom door.
He had dropped.
“Fuck….”
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So hope you enjoyed that! Sorry for any grammar mistakes as well.
Leo and Ronin…never thought people would ship these two but I ain’t complaining! They would be such an interesting pair.
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d-e-l-u-s-i-o-n-a-l · 2 years ago
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Yours
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A/n: This is my first ever blog on here, and I don’t think it’s great, but it doesn’t entirely suck either.
Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader
Summary: While at a quidditch match, a girl flirts with your boyfriend Remus- who is completely oblivious about it. Unable to stand and watch as she does so, you walk way, Remus following after you.
Warning: fluff, kissing, cursing, jealousy, insecurities
You walked hurriedly down a corridor and toward your common room, your arms crossed over your chest as you did. You had been watching another one of James’s and Sirius’s quidditch matches along with Remus and Peter. Everything was going great, and you were all having a great time- or at least, you were until some blonde girl from Gryffindor walked up to Remus and started flirting with him. Of course, like the oblivious idiot he was, Remus didn’t catch up to what she was doing, and you weren’t sure if he had caught up to it even after you walked away.
You knew that Remus wasn’t the kind of person to go around flirting with people- or at least, not on purpose- and you also knew that you two were in a fully committed relationship, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit insecure at times. You had been crushing on him long before the two of you even became friends, and you truly did like him- maybe a lot more than someone in a three-month relationship should’ve, and sometimes, you weren’t sure if he felt the same way about you.
Footsteps could be heard from behind you, but you didn’t want to turn around. You didn’t have to; you knew perfectly well who it was. “Hey. I was talking to some Gryffindor, and when I turned back around, you were gone.” Remus explained, clearly still oblivious to what was happening. It wasn’t until you turned to face him that he finally understood something wasn’t right. “What’s… wrong?”
You tilt your head to the side, hating how he stood there in his shabby yet perfect clothes, looking so innocent. You couldn’t be mad at him, and you knew you shouldn’t be. It wasn’t his fault that he was so goddamn attractive and basically had everyone in Hogwarts crushing on him. Unable to tell him why you were really upset, you shrug half-heartedly, pursing your lips sheepishly now that you realized you were just being stupid. “Nothing… I guess I’m just drained out for the day. I don’t do well in large crowds, you know.”
Remus nodded slowly at your words, concern still evident in his brown eyes. “Are you sure that’s all?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. He knew how closed off you could be at times, and he just wanted to make sure you were alright. “You look… mad.” He paused for a while before continuing in a questioning tone. “Was it something I did?”
You furrowed your eyebrows at his words, immediately shaking your head as you stepped close to him, taking his rough hands in yours. “What? No.” You respond, not wanting him to feel guilty over something that wasn’t his fault.
“Well, then… what is it?” He asked with a confused expression as he looked down at both of your hands, trying to comprehend what was going through your mind. He had learned that although you were very quiet, you tended to have a lot of thoughts in that head of yours, and he wanted to hear every one of them no matter how long it took.
“It’s…” You trailed off, contemplating whether you should tell him the truth and be honest with him or shrug it off as nothing like you usually. You eventually decided to shrug it off as nothing. “It’s nothing; I was just being stupid.” You shook your head with a small smile, not wanting to start unnecessary drama when your friends were having a great time.
Remus frowned at your words, noticing that the smile didn’t reach your eyes. Whenever you smiled, he completely stopped breathing to make sure he didn’t miss any detail about the beautiful view. He always took notice of the way your nose scrunched up and your eyes got smaller when you smiled genuinely, and that was currently missing. “You’re upset; I can tell.” He spoke softly as his thumb stroked the back of your hand, not wanting to make it sound like he was pressuring you into telling him anything. He just wanted you to know that he knew you well enough to tell when you were lying and when you were being truthful.
You stayed silent for a while, looking away from his eyes because you could feel yourself growing smaller and smaller under his gaze. “Alright, fine… I was, but I promise you I’m over it.” You assured him, feeling heat rising to your face as Remus raised a finger to move a few strands of hair away from your face and tucked them behind your ear. He then proceeded to place his finger under your chin, gently tilting your head upwards so that you had no choice but to look into his eyes.
“Come on… tell me what’s on your mind.” He encouraged before rapidly taking a seat on one of the stone benches, patting the spot beside him with a crooked smile. He was trying to get you comfortable enough to open up to him. He knew from the moment he met you that the two of you were alike in more than one way, and that included the fact that neither of you were exactly the type to be very open about your feelings. He respected that back when you were friends, but now, you were in a relationship- Times had changed. The two of you needed to be honest about how you were feeling.
You groaned at his words, slightly scrunching up your face as you let your head fall back. You hated the idea of being so vulnerable toward someone. You could hear Remus chuckle lowly as you walked toward the stone bench and took the spot beside him, all while still complaining. Despite your supposed dislike of the idea, he scooted closer to you, bringing a hand up so that his fingers could softly trace your jaw. He was the only one who could truly ease your nerves whenever you were angry or upset. He somehow knew all the right ways to do so. “What’s wrong, Y/n?” He asked in such a tender and low voice that you could quite literally melt in your spot and tell him all your secrets without a care in the world.
You took a deep breath, attempting to keep your voice steady as you began to explain. “I don’t think you noticed… but that blonde girl you were talking to was hitting on you.” You revealed, fidgeting with your fingers nervously as you watched the realization set in on his face.
“Oh.” He breathed out, a low chuckle escaping your lips as his eyes widened at how stupid he had been. Of course, she had been flirting with him. How hadn’t he realized? It was entirely obvious. “No, I didn’t realize… I’m so sorry. I swear I had no idea that’s what-“
“Remus, it’s fine.” You interrupted him with a shake of your head, having calmed down now that you’d had time to think over the events. “I just… I guess I panicked and overreacted.” You shrug, feeling a bit stupid now at how you had handled the situation. You hadn’t stopped to think and just walked away from the issue, but that was exactly what you did every time there was a problem and you didn’t know how to handle it.
“You panicked? Why’d you panic?” He asked with furrowed eyebrows, clearly not knowing the effect he had on others without even trying.
“Well, because… you’re… you, and I’m me.” You explained vaguely, pausing in between words as you added to your sentence, only making it make less sense every time. Once you saw the pure look of confusion on his face about what you meant by that, you explained further on. “Remus, you’re the hot girl of Hogwarts, and you have people crushing on you without even trying. Of course, I’m going to panic.”
At your explanation, Remus could only let out a loud laugh, but he quickly covered it up by coughing and clearing his throat, not wanting to give you the impression that he was laughing at you because he wasn’t. “What?” He said in an unusually high-pitched voice before pointing at himself. “Me? The hot girl of Hogwarts? I don’t think so.” He shook his head, refusing to believe that. “That’s more of James’s thing.”
You narrowed your eyes at him, refusing to believe that he was that oblivious. Once again, Remus chuckled at this, his playful demeanor eventually transforming into a softer one. “I can assure you that you have nothing to panic about.” He spoke, his coffee-brown eyes on you and only you- as if you were the only thing that mattered to him in that moment. He had completely forgotten about the quidditch match outside. “I only have eyes for you.”
You smiled softly at his words, liking the sound of that. Lost in some sort of adoring trance, your lips acted before your brain could even think about what you were about to say. “I love you.” Upon realizing what had just rolled off your tongue, you slapped your hand over your lips, your eyes wide in shock. “Shit…” You said in a faint voice, watching in panic as Remus raised his eyebrows in surprise at your own words too. He would’ve never thought you would be the one to say those words first out of the two of you. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say that- I mean, I did… just not n-“
Before you knew it, Remus had cut you off, leaning in and crashing his lips against yours. His hands were at either side of your face, your lips paralyzed at the start but eventually moving in sync with his. Although you were taken aback and confused by what had just happened, you melted into the kiss, fully letting him take control because you didn’t know what else to do. His lips were soft and felt like a pillow against your lips- a comforting feeling you could always count on making you feel better. Your fingers twisted into his hair, slightly tugging at it as he placed a hand on the back of your neck, the other behind you, holding on tightly to the bench you were sitting on for support.
After a while, the two of you eventually pulled away, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you attempted to regain your breath. Due to your proximity, you could smell his signature scent. It was a mix of wood and chocolate, only driving you crazy. “What was that for?” You furrowed your eyebrows, shaking your head as you tried to understand what had just happened. You were still processing things.
“What? I can’t kiss the girl I love whenever I feel like it?” He questioned, his words genuine although he wore a joking tone. His grin stretched even wider when you smiled back at him. He loved seeing you smile, and he would forever cherish the moments when you did. Abruptly, he fished for something in the pockets of his jacket before pulling out a black marker. For many, it was a curious thing to keep on oneself, but Remus always had a pen or a marker on himself for you to doodle on him with because he knew that’s what you liked to do when you were stressed or bored.
He held out the marker for you to take- which you did hesitantly, unsure of what you were supposed to do with it. “You don’t like it when others ‘flirt’ with me.“ He raised his fingers in the air and used them as quotation marks around the word flirt. “So, to avoid that happening again in the future, you get to mark me as yours.”
You raised your eyebrows in surprise at his words before shaking your head, a faint chuckle escaping your lips. “There’s no need for that.”
“Oh, come on.” He whined, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you closer to his embrace. It was almost as if he wanted to walk around with a mark on his body that said he was yours- to show off to the entire world that he was in a relationship with you. “It doesn’t even have to be that large.”
You pursed your lips at his words before sighing after a while, rolling your eyes playfully as you gave in and took off the cap of the marker. You then placed a hand on the side of his neck, unaware of how close your faces were, as you wrote the words ‘Y/n’s’ on his neck, near his collarbone. The lettering was small, but it was big enough to be legible and get the point across.
Remus looked down at you with a soft glow in his eyes as he watched you write on him, a smile playing on his lips as you finished up. “Definitely getting that tattooed.”
At his words, you looked at him through narrowed eyes, really hoping he wasn’t being serious because your writing had been terrible due to how shaky your hands were. “Do not.” You warned him with a pointed look before giving him a small yet affectionate peck on the lips.
Of course, he didn’t listen to you.
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mydearsteven · 2 years ago
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Hi! Hello, I don’t know if your request are open but if they are can I request a Yandere Steven x reader? It’s fine if not! I just found your blog and absolutely love it!
My one and only.
featuring: Yandere!Steven x Reader
tw(s): manipulation
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Steven couldn’t help himself, first it was Connie who starts to drift away from him, then the gems, and now you? he can’t deny he would be crazy if you too start to drift away from him.
you’re his EVERYTHING. His world, his love, his absolute every feelings of him. He can’t lose you aswell, just the thought of somebody having you made him awake everynight.
he couldn’t get any proper sleep at the thought of you leaving him. So he thought, what if he just convince you to stay here with him? to grow together. That way you won’t leave him, he’ll tell you how much you mean to him, that he would die for you to stay.
you’re hanging out with Steven, you could saw Garnet looking very uncomfortable when she saw you and him. You felt a little weirded out and decided to ask her what was wrong. “hey, Steven? i have to talk to Garnet for awhi-“ Steven’s voice interrupted yours before you could even finished the sentence. “NO!” his whole body starts to turn pink again and you were shocked. “NO.. way! what i mean is, you cAN talk to Garnet..!”
Steven smiled it off and put a thumb up while he starts to calm down. You were very worried about him, but just once you turn around—you couldn’t find Garnet. “huh, thats weird..”
at the end of the day, you went home. But something felt off, you feel like a pair of eyes were watching you from behind the shadows. You couldn’t exactly pinpoint where but it felt like everywhere.
you grew nervous at the feeling and starts to sped up towards your house, that is until you saw a.. gem? they look weird.. they had these weird marks on it. You don’t know anything until it starts to attack you.
you couldn’t even scream and closed your eyes shut while your arms covering your face. You didn’t feel any impact, slowly opening up your eyes you didn’t see the gem.. only shards of a.. SHARDS OF THE GEM.
you panicked, they got shattered but by who? trying to contain your cry, you brought back the shards back to the temple. You ran as fast as you could only to find Steven running towards the temple and still have the door half open.
“S-Steven!! you.. what were you doing..” starting to realize what was happening, you put the pieces together. A pair of eyes watching you, Garnet’s weird behavior towards him, and how easily shattered the gem could get. Only him that could shatter a gem that easy.
you start to take a step back, Steven only froze there and starts to leap up and landed on his knees infront of you. You didn’t know how to react, you dropped down the shards and put your hands to your mouth while tears flowing from your eyes.
“__… please, don’t ever leave me… i- im sorry.” he practically begged you, you stood still and he was still clinging onto your legs. Not giving you a chance to get away from his grasp.
“i could make this work! i can- i can save that gem.. i can save you, i can save us! just please, ‘it’ attacked you, i HAVE to protect you.” it is the first time you’ve seen this side of him.
so.. cracked, so vulnerable. He used to looked so strong, so happy, so perfect. But now, he’s broken. He want you, he NEEDS you. And you certainly need him, you couldn’t live without him.
you thought for a moment before kneeling down and hugged him, he was happy. He smiled and look at you, you could only smile tiredly before questioning yourself on this decision.
he just shattered someone, he just broke the swear he would never break. He swore that he would never shatter anyone, under any circumstances. But the gem attacked you, if they didn’t get shattered immediately you would get killed. But.. that doesn’t matter would it? the past is already the past he told you.
so you just let it go, you broke the hug and looked at the shards. Steven looks at it with an emotionless face and put it inside a bubble before sending it to his.. secret base.
he turned around at you with a frown on his face before holding your hands. “hey.. its going to be okay. Just promise me, to NEVER leave me.. you NEED me ___… i am your knight, you don’t need anyone you only need me. I have everything you could ever asked for. I will stay with you until your dying breath, i can protect you. So please, don’t ever leave me, okay?” you convinced yourself even more that you’re only a mere human, and he is a half gem.
he is strong, he is everything you could ever asked for. He is perfect, and he is yours. You couldn’t pass on that opportunity so you pledged yourself to never leave his side, and that he is your everything.
it was working he thought, just a little convincing got you wrapped around his finger. Now he just need to protect you, you will be the damsel in distress and he will be the knight who’ll always save you. And even if Garnet or any other gems tried to get in the way of the two of you, he could just put them in a bubble— or worse, shatter them.
he has the power of a diamond after all, that means he is much stronger than any of the gems.
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aidoneusdaughter · 1 year ago
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Satoru Gojo x Reader- Infinite Love
Summary- You can never stay mad at each other for long
Warnings- A Lil Angst but not much, Fluff n Comfort, The two already in a Relationship, No use of Y/N (That's It I think…) No Spoilers (Dumb Title Name idk) Gender Neutral (I did my best)
Word Count- 596 (Wow short read then)
Prompt- "With the whole of my heart, I believe that together we are infinite."
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How long has it been? Do They even want to talk right now? Do They  even want to see Him? Well, Not after what he said to them, He didn’t mean it, It just came out “How could you be so stupid!? It’s Me! I’m The Strongest! You're Just You!” Now he can’t even remember why they were arguing but now it’s just stupid, He doesn’t even realize he’s left the Park he had gone to after the fight, Now Standing in front of their shared apartment door, He hesitates to knock but right before he does you open the door, The two of you just stare at each other His once Sky Blue eyes now Look stormy with Guilt and sadness and your (E/C) eyes empty yet filled with Longing.
“I’m Sorry” The two say in unison, You both don’t say anything for a long moment after making it feel like Eternity, You step aside to let him by, The two of you move to the living room, Sitting on the couch awkwardly, Your mouth moves to speak but now words come out, Satoru takes the lead.
“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it…I shouldn’t have yelled or gotten mad, I didn’t want to make you cry either but I did An-And I’m Sorry…I can’t live without you” He says hiccuping, Tears once again fill his eyes, You move closer to him, Your hand reaching out for his.
“I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t have gotten angry either or yelled as well but...We still shouldn’t have said that about each other it wasn’t right…” Satoru moves closer to you sniffling, He moves his hand to your face to wipe away the upcoming tears that threaten to spill from your eyes “I-I’m so so sorry, I know that we have our differences sometimes but I was in the wrong this time Believe me and I know you know that too…God, I’m such an Idiot'' He says shaking his head, His snow white hair moving side to side, Making you smile at how soft it looks like that, You move to sit right next to him, You smile at how adorably cute yet sad he still looks “Yeah, You are an Idiot…But you're my Idiot'' You say happily, Now as if the previous emotions anger, Frustration, Sadness and Guilt had vanished into thin air.
“Yeah, You're right…You're always right but you wanna know something?” He says with a teasing smile, One he always has on when he’s about to say the stupidest of things “What?” You say curiously waiting for him to continue "With the whole of my heart, I believe that together we are infinite." His words cause you to groan and roll your eyes but with a clear smile painted on your lips.
You push him away with a smile as he falls over with a laugh at his own words and your action “God that was so cheesy Toru’! How do You even come up with this stuff?” You ask with a Smile so wide that makes Satoru think back to the first time he laid eyes on you “Oh you know, It comes naturally when I’m with you” He says wiggling his eyebrows as he looks at you causing you to snort, Through all the ups and downs, The Good and the Bad how could you love him any less than you already do? Either way the love you both shared could not be drowned by the arguments and sadness that came along, No, The love you both share has to be Infinite.
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Main Blog- @zagreusdaughter if you'd like to read more plz follow or send in a Request or prompt♡
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guiltiestlove · 4 months ago
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getting freaky w blackquill in his cell when he was a convict would go crazy tbh
(also hiii hiii 👋💕 nice to see another Simon simp, have a nice day ✌️)
Surely going to check up on Prosecutor Blackquill in his cell at night is strictly business for the Chief Prosecutor’s assistant! Just part of the job of course!
Simon Blackquill x gender neutral reader, ~1101 words
N/SFW, mdni!!
cws/tags: smut of course, reader with vagina, fingering, semi-public sex(?), little bit hurt/comfort, honestly nothing too spicy or exciting im getting back into the rhythm of things lol!
notes: thank u soooo much anon, i was so excited to get a request like immediately after making this blog!! i got carried away and wrote even more for this prompt so i may make it into a full one shot fic or even just make a part 2!!
“I did not realize I was such a threat that they would make you come check on me even after hours.”
Simon sits on his bed facing you, head tilting downwards with a slight smirk on his face.
You rest your head against the bars subconsciously wanting to close any distance between the two of you.
You chuckle, “Actually, I’m not here on official orders.” He looks up, expression unchanging, but eyes catching yours. “And no one made me come down here.”
A mix between intrigue and amusement spreads across the man’s face as he stands up. The blush creeping up on your face betrays you slightly, but you steel your nerves for whatever response you might get. You pull out the cell’s key from your pocket. “I, uh, thought you might want to hang out.”
A puzzled, almost scared look was all that was discernible on Simon’s face now. “…Are you trying to break me out, because I assure you, on my honor, I have no intenti—“
“Simon” you sigh, “I’m not trying to get you out, I-I’m trying to get me in!.. You know.. I missed you.” You could have played it smoother considering you had seen him roughly six hours earlier, but he doesn’t even seem to notice.
He relaxes, realizing you weren’t attempting a jailbreak, and the implication of what was happening hits him much harder. “O-oh. Good heavens..” he mumbles under his breath trying to hide from you—his face now a gorgeous shade of pink.
In two large strides he’s at the cell door face to face with you, gripping onto the bars. “Why? There is no reason to risk your career when we can… talk perfectly well in this manner.” He’s searching for something in your face. His words come out angrily but his face says something else entirely. As you wrap your hand around his, he winces slightly. But he doesn’t pull back.
”Simon, you know that won’t work on me. If you want me to, I can leave of course! But I don’t feel ashamed or scared to be here right now.” You trail off at the end, worried you’ve been too presumptuous.
He reaches through to caress your chin, “Perhaps you should be concerned, sweetheart.” A pronounced shiver runs down your spine. “Even if we were simply talking, I do not expect people to take kindly to the idea of Chief Prosecutor Edgeworth’s assistant fraternizing with the cursed death-row convict… alone in his cell.”
Surprised but pleased, you lean into his touch. “You and I both know no one patrols at this time Simon,” you say earnestly. ”…Please…tell me I haven’t been imagining things. Tell me you want this too.”
His eyes seem to be glistening with tears as he turns away completely from the cell door. Several moments pass before he answers. “I do as well…but I can’t let another soul get caught in this whirlwind of destruction.”
You defiantly insert the key into the lock and turn it. *click* And you gently open the heavy oppressive door.
“But that’s my decision, Simon. And some things are worth the risk… ” You step forward slightly and stop—a message that you’ll gladly step back into the hall, if he wishes.
In an instant his large frame has you pinned to the cinderblock wall, one hand supporting your head and one hand on your back. You feel a bit tangled up in his arms and shackles, but mostly you just feel safe. Strands of his hair brush against you as he buries his face into your neck. You feel his breath against your skin, “For myself, I had long given up hope.”
You’re pretty sure you feel a tear on your shoulder, and you prompt him to look at you. “Simon…” Looking directly into his eyes like this; you’re not sure if you’ve ever seen someone so haunted, so conflicted. He softens even more when you grab his face in your hands, caressing his lips with your thumb. “Don’t you know you deserve to be protected too?”
Simon pulls your body in with a sudden force that makes you gasp—in an instant he’s not just kissing you, it feels like he’s going to consume you. “Ah—a—Simon..” is all you can sputter out in between gasping for air.
He wastes no time tilting your head back and peppering firm kisses up and down both sides of your neck. As you drag your hands down his chest and torso, you can’t believe just how muscular he is—and let out a moan at the thought. And just when you think he didn’t notice, you hear, “Go ahead. Unbutton my shirt if that’s what you want so badly.”
You don’t at all want to resist, so you attempt to carefully untie Simon’s tie with shaking fingers before he snatches it and his shirt off. “I’m feeling rather impatient,” he quips.
“Well, if we’re being honest…” You kiss him slowly this time, but still loud and messy. Slowly, you guide his hand down your torso and towards the bottom of your dress. You pause to see his reaction, but he is no longer waiting for your guidance—he’s gathering up the fabric himself. When he realizes you didn’t wear any underwear, you swear you can feel his cock twitch against you.
The tone and rumble of his voice like this are new but so welcome as his lips brush against your ear.
“May I, darling?”
”Simon I swear to god if you don’t touch me right now I—aaannhhggh” Simon chuckles at how easy it is to make you melt and rubs gentle circles around your clit.
He smoothly slides one finger inside of you. “So this is why you were so eager?” Though you’re embarrassed that you can only answer in whimpers, he finds it endearing. And in hopes of eliciting more, he pushes another finger inside, with his thumb still on your clit. Your fingers have made their way into his hair, grabbing fistfuls, and neither of you can form a single coherent thought. The sensations of Simon’s weight against you, his strong fingers inside of you, and whispers of how gorgeous you are all blend together harmoniously.
”Fuck, fuck, Simon, gonna come..” you mutter, and his fingers are dragged out of you agonizingly slowly. Your eyes focus on him for a moment. His face flushed, lips puffy. He raises his fingers to his lips and hungrily licks off every drop. “God, you taste even better than I imagined, sweetheart. Do you even know what you do to me?”
“Show me, show me what I do to you. Please.”
A devilish grin spreads across Simon’s face.
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use-your-telescope · 1 year ago
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When Everything's Made to be Broken - Chapter 9: Something So Brand New
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Summary: Theo makes good on her promise to Loki, and shenanigans ensue.
Author's Notes: So this is a longer chapter than I usually post, but given it all takes place during the span of one evening it didn’t make sense to split into two chapters. If you love Loki/Theo interactions, you’re in for a treat here. There’s also Brodinsons and Wanda/Theo friendship building as well. 
I’m *hoping* to post my next chapter on December 10, but I sense that we’re about to hit a rocky patch at my job as a series of stressors all collide (aka shit’s about to hit the fan), so I’m going to give myself a one week buffer and say that the chapter will be up by no later than December 17th. It’s written, but I’ve found that I like to go back and do an in-depth editing pass before posting that usually takes at least a few hours… Essentially, I would rather underpromise and overdeliver than say I’ll post something and then just… not. 
Oh, and RE: shit hitting the fan at work - I’m not worried about myself amidst the work stuff (I’m not about to lose my job or anything). I'm worried about the students I work with and how they’ll handle everything… And since my job is supporting said students, I imagine I’ll probably have my hands full. I’m intentionally being vague for privacy reasons, and in hopes that it doesn’t blow up so my concern is pointless. 
Completely unrelated, but I saw The Maine live last week and they opened with this song! They put on a great live show. 10/10 do recommend. 
If you enjoy, please reblog!! I'm a lil' blog and reblogs really help me out <3
Content Warnings: Alcohol/Drinking (including getting a bit too drunk). 
Word Count: 9,384
Read on AO3 | When Everything's Made to be Broken Masterlist
Song: Dose No. 2 - The Maine
First breath out of a coma Over and over Oh what a lovely view of you  A two step into disorder I stumble forward Towards something so brand new
“Hey, uh - some of us are going to hang out up on the roof tonight. Want to join?” 
Ever since Theo relented to Loki’s begging (and though he wouldn’t admit it, he totally begged her to join them), a foreboding sense of dread hung over Theo like a storm cloud, waiting for this very moment. A night of forced socializing and feigned pleasantries as the other Avengers tried not to make their suspicions about Theo painfully obvious - Theo would rather watch paint dry.
Across the threshold, hope radiated through the smile on Wanda’s face. She stood with hands in hoodie pockets, jeans and birkenstocks completing the Scarlet Witch’s look for that day. The outfit surprised Theo - from observation, Wanda only wore pants when working out, opting for skirts and dresses in daily life. Theo would have confidently bet real money that Wanda didn’t even own a pair of jeans.
Then again, it wasn’t the first time Theo was wrong, and it wouldn’t be the last.
Every possible excuse percolated in Theo’s mind for why she couldn’t join - lying about having plans, claiming she was tired or didn’t feel well, even outright admitting she didn’t want to go – but then Loki’s voice interrupted her thoughts, reminding her about the deal she struck.
And, well, after reading about the aftermath of Ultron and Sokovia, Theo realized they had more in common than she first thought.
“I— yeah, sure.”  Theo swallowed thickly, steeling herself for a miserable evening. She forced a smile at Wanda, praying that the expression didn’t look as uncomfortable as it felt. “I’ll join - let me grab a couple things first.”
Wanda’s face lit up, eyes wide as planets as she processed Theo's answer. “Great! This is going to be awesome! Uh, you should probably grab shoes, and maybe a jacket - it’s still a bit cool out.” She babbled, still gaping at Theo.
Theo held up a finger, stepping away from the door before Wanda could continue. She grabbed a thick sweater to cut the breeze, toed on some sneakers, and plopped a beanie over her hair, pausing in front of a mirror to make sure she didn’t look like a total mess.
Wanda practically bounced down the hall, constantly glancing back to check and make sure Theo hadn’t abandoned her. Theo trailed behind, listening to Wanda recount the construction of the rooftop lounge and how this was the first year they actually could use the space, and how excited they were to finally have a nice, private outdoor space to gather. At best, Theo half-listened along, her pulse quickening with every step closer to their destination. 
As they stepped out onto the rooftop, it actually seemed like the perfect night to enjoy a city skyline and a cold drink.
A fully stocked bar stood along the far end of the roof, while plenty of outdoor seating offered opportunities for everything from lounging around to enjoying a meal. The space even featured a fireplace table and heat lamps for cooler nights, which already had been turned on to cut the chill. True to the Stark aesthetic, all of the furniture came in muted tones and clean lines, sharing design language with the indoor common areas.
The other Avengers had settled in among a series of outdoor sectionals, some standing around the periphery while others gathered near the bar. As they drew closer, Theo realized that the company for the evening consisted of not only Avengers Tower residents, the Avengers who resided elsewhere…
Oh god, when Theo caved to Loki’s request, she had not expected it to play out like this; she thought it would be a movie night, or going out to dinner. Not everyone and their mother staring at her.
As if she sensed Theo’s nervousness, Wanda grabbed Theo’s hand and smiled at her, pulling her towards the larger group.
With every step, Theo braced herself for an icy reception, all the while building up the courage to put on a brave face. She met everyone once, that first day when she was announced as an Avenger - maybe twice, if she counted the briefing that she crashed - so at least there were no new faces.
Small blessings, she supposed.
Wanda didn’t go of Theo’s hand until they reached the edge of the group. It only took Wanda a moment to find Vision, standing behind one of the sectionals as he chatted with Shuri about something very science-y. Vision casually wrapped an arm around her, listening intently to Shuri, who gestured animatedly as she responded. 
Nearby, King T’Challa sat tall, dressed in a hybrid of western and African clothing with shoulders squared back as he conversed with Natasha about the United Nations and Wakanda. He spoke with a measured cadence that indicated he put great thought and intent into his words. On the opposite side of Natasha, Yelena slouched back in her seat, scrolling through her phone while laughing at something on screen. 
Not far from Yelena, Peter Parker told Tony about school and the latest device he was building. His enthusiasm struck Theo, and she caught herself smiling as she noticed the way Peter mirrored Shuri’s animated gestures, hands flailing wildly as he attempted to describe the contraption. Colonel Rhodes listened from the other side of Tony, with open posture and head tilted to the side, nodding along patiently… It was quite the contrast, especially next to the borderline manic tendencies of Tony and Peter’s unbridled enthusiasm. 
Nearby, Bruce spoke with Dr. Stephen Strange - a tall, thin man whose expression was entirely too serious and his posture uncomfortably rigid, which, if Theo thought about it, made sense for a former neurosurgeon. Sharon Carter chatted with Steve, Sam, and Bucky, laughter regularly erupting from the quartet; apparently, they were familiar with each other and had a lot to catch up on. 
Clint looked at home behind the bar with Scott Lang, snippets of conversation about their kids floating over the other conversations as they prepared drinks for everyone and brought them over to the group. 
Loki and Thor sat in deep discussion with the Valkyrie (or, as Loki often called her, Val) about something related to New Asgard; seeing a Valkyrie in a chunky sweater and Timbalands still threw Theo for a loop, but she knew that different people would adapt different aspects of life on Earth. 
Thor noticed Theo standing there, bewildered at the sight of everyone in one location.
“Lady Theo!” Thor exclaimed, standing to greet her. “Welcome to your first family night!”
Wait - did he just say family night?
Theo could practically hear the world screech to a halt as everyone fell silent, gaping at the new addition. Her heart stuttered in her chest as she froze in place, a veritable deer in the headlights.
“Brother—“ Loki hissed, rolling his eyes as he elbowed his brother. “Do not overwhelm her.”
“Uh… hi?” Theo cringed at how pathetic she sounded. “Sorry, didn’t mean to disrupt.”
“No apologies necessary - come, take a seat.“ Loki offered Theo a reassuring smile as he gestured for her to sit next to him. 
“Watch out, the prince is rescuing Rapunzel.” Tony teased, a smirk on his face as he raised a glass to her.
“Watch out everyone, Stark is jealous that a woman is not racing to offer herself up to him,” Loki retorted, sarcasm dripping from his voice. 
Raucous laughter came from Loki’s response; even Theo giggled as she sank into the cushions beside him. Loki, in turn, flashed a smirk and winked at her, before effortlessly folding Theo into the Asgardians’ conversation. Without needing to ask, Scott brought Theo an old fashioned, which caused a rush of gratitude to flood Theo’s veins.
The alcohol wouldn’t have much of an effect on her, but having something to occupy her hands with was always appreciated.
Likewise, the others returned to their conversations. Over time, topics shifted and incorporated other people, slowly snowballing as everyone tuned into the larger discussions.
At one natural lull in conversation, Loki went to refill his drink, leaving a vacant spot beside Theo in the process. He barely made it behind the bar when, with a whoop, Shuri leapt over the sectional and claimed the seat as her own. “Ha ha!” Shuri’s face was smug as she shimmied into the cushion, crossing one leg over the other as she stretched her arms along the back of the seat. “This will make a lovely throne.”
Despite the stutter of her heart from Shuri startling her, Theo couldn’t help but laugh when she caught T’Challa rolling his eyes at his sister.
“Excuse me, that was my seat!” Loki scowled, gesturing wildly to where he previously sat.
“Not anymore.” Shuri stuck her tongue out at him. “Besides, you speak to Theo all the time. It’s my turn.” 
The latter part of Shuri’s comment nearly made Theo choke on her drink - up until that point, hardly any attention was paid to Theo’s presence. Was that about to change?
“You are lucky I like you, princess,” Loki rolled his eyes, but let out a breathless laugh and shook his head. “Or else I might banish you to an alternate realm.” His threat lacked any teeth; if anything, it came off as a joke. He offered Theo a reassuring glance and the slightest nod, as if encouraging Theo to trust that Shuri wouldn’t make it weird.
Theo masked her nerves with a sip of her cocktail, allowing the notes of smoke and citrus to coat her tongue. 
If Shuri noticed the interaction, she didn’t say anything. Instead, she struck up a conversation about a funny tiktok trend that made her think of Theo, eventually morphing into a conversation about medical technology.
Seat stealing, however, was only the prelude to a series of hijinks during the evening.
It started innocently enough. A few drinks into the evening, Tony entertained the team with one of his tales about inventions gone wrong - this time, DUM-E had sprayed a visiting SHIELD agent with a fire extinguisher instead of the computer that actually caught on fire. 
While he rambled, Wanda glanced over and made eye contact with Theo. Wanda rolled her eyes before mouthing, “Want to see something fun?”
Theo nodded, curious to see what Wanda was going to do. 
A moment later, Tony reached forward to grab his drink and take a sip of it, only to stick his hand through the glass…
Where a nearly empty cocktail previously sat was nothing more than an illusion. 
Theo’s eyes darted to Wanda, who stood behind Tony sipping his drink. Theo had to bite back a laugh as Wanda grimaced and shook her head, not a fan of whatever Tony had in his lowball. 
“What the hell happened to my drink?” Tony whipped around, looking to see if someone had hidden it. His eyes settled on Loki, who glanced around at the others as he held his own drink, casually taking a swig. Either Loki hadn’t noticed, or he was really good at keeping a straight face. 
“Reindeer games, I swear to god-”
“I thought we’d moved past such childish accusations.” Loki cocked an eyebrow at him, unamused. 
“He didn’t move, Stark. Chill.” Bucky defended the Asgardian prince.
“Well someone took it, and it wasn’t Captain Stick-in-the-Mud.” Tony retorted, looking around the group. The glass vanished from Wanda’s hand before Tony could see it, presumably returning to the table where it started. 
“Okay guys, this isn’t funny,” Tony whined, completely oblivious to his beverage’s return to the table. 
To her left, Theo caught Loki taking a large drink of whatever was in his cup to stifle a laugh – he knew exactly what Wanda was up to. 
Just then, Tony turned back around to discover his drink in its original location. He groaned, slouching back in his seat. “Anyone who wants to turn in their cape for stand-up comedy, just let me know.”
As he returned to his story, Wanda winked at Theo before sending her a text message– “So we have a game during family time...” 
Theo stared at the screen for a moment before typing out a reply. “Which is…?”
Wanda’s face lit up as she read the message; a playful smile pulled across her lips as she typed out a reply. “How many pranks can we pull off before one of us starts laughing.”
Suddenly, a message from Loki popped up as well. “The only rule is that no one should be harmed. Otherwise, it’s fair game.”
Oh. Apparently Loki was playing along too.
Another message from Wanda came in: “You want in?”
Tempting, but with her reputation…
“Sounds fun, but not sure…” Theo responded, “I don’t know that the others trust me. Pranking them might make it worse.”
“If anything, they’ll believe I am the perpetrator,” Loki assured her via text message. “My affiliation with mischief and trickery lends itself to suspicion.”
Not only did Loki speak like he just read a thesaurus, but he even texted like it.
Theo stared at the screen for a moment, weighing her options. On one hand, she could stand to loosen up a little and have some fun. On the other hand, pranking someone could go over like a lead balloon if the prank didn’t land well; she needed to be confident that whoever she pranked would not be upset if she partook.
By then, Sam launched into a story about his last trip to see his sister and nephews in Louisiana. Bucky had tagged along, in part because the point of the trip was to fix up the Wilsons’ boat, and Sam knew he’d need an extra set of hands. A pigeon waddled about on the roof, only a few feet from where Sam sat. Sam, however, was oblivious to the bird’s presence; he was too busy mimicking how Bucky stole Sam’s tools to fix a leaky valve instead of simply using his vibranium arm.
After over a month of listening to Julie pine endlessly over Sam and his down to earth personality, ass of a national treasure, and good-natured sense of humor, Theo swore she knew more about Sam than she knew about her own cousin…
An idea sprung to Theo’s mind. She set her glass on the table, casually lowered her hands out of sight, and whispered an incantation. 
“How do you know vibranium would hold up to the steam?” The pigeon asked, cocking its head to the side as it waited for an answer.
Sam nearly leapt out of his seat as his eyes bugged out of his head.
“Wait a minute, wait just a minute – please tell me you all just heard that.” Sam stared at the others as they all gawked at the pigeon. Theo, however, snatched her glass and took a sip of her old fashioned so she didn’t give herself away. “Did that bird just talk?”
“Falcon, I did not realize that your skill set included speaking to birds.” Loki answered without missing a beat. 
Theo nearly spit out her drink as she fought the urge to burst into laughter.  
“Hey, just because I’m called Falcon doesn’t mean I like birds.” Sam argued, a twinkle in his eye as he settled back into his chair. He must have known there was some magic at play; if Theo was lucky, he would not know whose magic created the illusion.
“I want some of whatever he’s drinking,” Theo pointed at Sam, pretending to be oblivious about the use of magic so she did not draw suspicion. “Because that must be some good shit.” 
“No,” Tony replied, “The good shit is the Asgardian stuff.” 
“That stuff will knock you on your ass unless you’re a god,” Sam agreed with a toothy grin and a nod. “Even the super soldiers get drunk on it.”
“Tony, I’m assuming you tried it?” Sharon asked, narrowing her eyes at the billionaire.
“Of course I did,” he scoffed, putting a hand on his chest, “I am a connoisseur - had to see if the hype was true.”
“Until you had the hangover from hell the next day.” Natasha pointed out, a smirk dancing on her lips while she crossed her arms.
“Please,” Tony retorted, “It barely holds a candle to the frat party from hell-”
“-in your second year at MIT.” Rhodes, Sam, and Steve answered simultaneously, all rolling their eyes.
Tony must have told that particular story a time or twenty before.
“Lady Theo,” Thor called from behind the bar. “I’m about to refill my beverage. Would you like to try some Asgardian ale?” 
Theo glanced over at Loki and raised her eyebrows at him, hoping he’d give her some sort of subtle cue about whether it was a good idea; he just smirked at her and winked. 
Not helpful at all.
Then again, the night had gone well up to that point…
“Sure, why not?” Theo replied with a short shrug of her shoulders. She assumed that he’d take a shot glass from the bar and put a little ale in the glass - it may fuck up a normal person, but that was probably only when consumed in large quantities. A small amount of the ale wouldn’t hurt, right?
What she didn’t expect was Thor to bring over a massive mug of ale, filled to the brim. 
“That’s alcohol poisoning about to happen,” Yelena cracked up as she saw the size of the mug. 
Nearby, the Valkyrie cackled. “Thor, remember that Midgardians can’t handle booze like you can.”
“My liver hurts just looking at that.” Bruce commented, letting out a nervous chuckle but shaking his head.
Well, whether she wanted to share or not, the Avengers were going to learn something new about Theo.
“Oh, that’s what healing magic is for. Healing your liver after alcohol damage.” Theo quipped, earning a surprised snort out of Tony. A surge of confidence rushed through her as she winked, glanced at the deep red, clear liquid, then took a drink.
Given the ale’s reputation, Theo expected it to taste like everclear - practically straight ethanol that burned when consumed. However, a delightful, complex blend of flavors - citrus, juniper, and caramel - coated her mouth. Only a hint of hoppy bitterness accompanied, but each flavor in the unlikely combination balanced the others surprisingly well.
Theo smiled and gave Thor a nod of approval. “That’s better than I expected,” she admitted before she took another drink. “I was expecting something that burned my mouth from the alcohol content, but this is downright pleasant.” 
“I bet you twenty bucks you can’t finish that.” Bucky challenged, a smirk spread across his features as he leaned back into his seat. 
Bucky had no idea what he was getting himself into.
“The bet is just that I can’t finish it? That’s boring. Of course I’m going to finish it.” She scoffed, rolling her eyes. Sitting up a bit taller, she puffed her chest out in defiance and drank a large swig of ale.
“The real bet would be if she doesn’t throw it up afterwards – just because it goes into her system doesn’t mean she won’t get sick from it.” Steve pointed out, “Not that I think this is a good idea, mind you.” 
Remarks like that were probably how Steve earned the nickname of “Captain Stick-in-the-Mud.” 
Theo whipped out her wallet, throwing a $20 bill down on the table. “Game on. $20 bet that I can drink this and keep it all down.”
Bucky reached across to shake Theo’s hand before putting in his own $20 bill. 
Shuri and Yelena whooped in support, pumping their fists in the air. Bruce sighed as he shook his head and rubbed his temples. Steve rolled his eyes, while Clint smirked and shot Scott a look of well, this should get interesting. Peter’s eyes widened, despite furrowing his brow - he looked like he was worried.
What a sweet, sweet summer child.
Theo took another sip of the ale, then spoke up. “We need some tunes playing. It’s too quiet up here.” 
“Oh! I have some new music we can listen to!” Wanda jumped at the opportunity to hook her phone up to the wireless speakers. “It’s a local band that Vision and I saw last week. Theo, I think you’d like them – they sounded kind of like the music your band played.”
It was hard to imagine Vision at a concert, standing there with relatively stiff posture as other people were grooving to the music… He must have really liked Wanda to let her bring him to concerts. Did he like the same music as her?
Did he even like music?
Did androids have likes and dislikes? Or feelings? How did that work?
That was a rabbit hole to go down another day.
What sounded like some generic indie-pop music started to float through the air, but it was pleasant enough to be good background music. 
Loki sent another message – this time solely to Theo. “Are you truly planning to drink the entire mug?” Theo looked up at him, his eyebrow cocked up with skepticism and his chin dipped as he made eye contact.
“Maybe I am.” Theo replied, smiling at him and winking as his phone buzzed. 
Asgard wasn’t the only realm with particularly strong alcohol, and despite Theo’s small size she was no lightweight.
The group resumed their casual chatter. Wanda, Theo, and Loki continued to cast illusions and mess with the team in subtle ways, oftentimes struggling to maintain a poker face as the rest of the team grew drunker and drunker, and as a result became much easier to mess with. 
Eventually, Thor regaled the team with one of his latest adventures off-planet, voice booming as he gestured grandly about some battle he fought in. As the story started to near its climax, Theo caught the way Loki’s hand moved quietly to his side and twitched as he cast a spell.  
Theo’s eyes darted around as she tried to figure out what changed – it wasn’t until she looked up at Thor that she found her answer: 
Loki transformed Thor’s mug so it was shaped like a giant penis… while Thor drank out of it.
Wanda, who stood beyond Thor’s line of sight, lost it, face beet red and shoulders bouncing as she doubled over in silent laughter.
From what Loki previously shared, Thor reveled in sharing stories where he prevailed as the savior of the day. With that in mind, the choice to make Thor look absolutely ridiculous as he drunkenly extolled his heroism seemed like it was as much a jab at his self-importance as it was just plain old hilarious. Theo hadn’t taken Loki to be one for juvenile humor, but she had to hand it to him – it was well-played.
Even better, Thor didn’t even notice the change – he set the mug down on the table as he continued his story, and later on picked it up to take a swig to wet his throat. 
It didn’t take long before the others started to notice the mug’s new shape. The Valkyrie looked like she about to keel over; her shoulders shook so hard from silent laughter that if Thor turned around he’d know something was off. Natasha had to bite her finger to stop herself from breaking into laughter. Steve and Peter shared wide-eye, startled expressions, leaning away from Thor… who still hadn’t noticed.
The more time that passed without Thor noticing, the funnier the spectacle became.
Finally, Sam finally couldn’t take it anymore.
“Wow Thor, you’re really swallowing that ale like a champ.”
Tony choked, then spat out his drink while the people around him recoiled from the spray. Steve turned downright crimson with secondhand embarrassment, hiding his face behind his hands. 
“Yeah, you’re really gripping the shaft of the mug like it’s your job.” Bucky added, trying and failing to keep a straight face as Thor looked over at Tony and Steve, confused.
Theo’s eyes watered from trying not to laugh, and her jaw hurt from the muscle tension involved with maintaining her poker face.
“Dammit, I’m biting my tongue so hard to stop from laughing that it’s bleeding.” Wanda’s message popped up in the group chat, while Loki still effortlessly maintained a completely straight poker face and relaxed posture. 
“I thought you were a bit too high-brow for a good dick joke…” Theo added, fingers tapping the screen furiously as she replied.
“I know not of what you speak,” Loki answered innocently; he glanced over at Theo and winked, then followed his message with an eggplant emoji. 
Wanda nearly spit out her drink when she got that message.
Thor finally put two-and-two together as he looked down at his mug, then glared at his brother; however, he was laughing despite the glare, giant shoulders bouncing up and down. “Why must you taunt me so?”
“I hold no responsibility for this madness!” Loki protested, though the sparkle in his eyes told Theo that Loki knew he wasn’t going to convince them otherwise. “God of mischief I may be, but I’m hardly the only capable sorcerer on this team.”
“Well Theo’s been too busy downing some Asgardian ale,” Bucky commented, “And Wanda… Wait a minute. Wanda?”
They all turned to look at Wanda, who gave a deer-in-the-headlights expression as she pretended to be horrified. “The fact that you could imagine me doing this is mildly offensive,” she exclaimed, silently glaring at Loki. “Besides, Strange can cast spells too.”
Everyone looked over at Dr. Strange; one unamused eyebrow raise was enough to dispel any thoughts that he’d been the one behind it.
“Let’s be real – Reindeer games would be the one to make that joke.” Tony pointed out, “Which… well played, I’ve gotta say. Not much makes me spit out my drink like that.”
Loki smirked, shaking his head and rolling his eyes. “You need to raise your standards, Stark.”
Steve, who was still mostly sober and desperate for a change of topic, looked back at Theo and noticed her nearly empty mug. “Wow, you weren’t kidding about finishing the ale.”
In turn, Theo downed the remaining ale and placed the mug on the table. “Yeah – It was good. But I’ve gotta say, for all the talk about how it will get me drunk, I still feel pretty sober. Are you sure you weren’t messing with me? This isn’t some fraternity-style hazing thing to bring a new team member on board?”
“No, my lady,” Thor confirmed, “That was genuine Asgardian ale. I must say, I’m impressed.”
Theo cast a glance over to Loki before sending a text. “You didn’t mess with this, did you?”
“I would never deny someone the opportunity to get drunk.” Loki looked dead serious as he sent the message, so she took his word for it.
“Well shit,” Bucky replied, his words slurring ever-so-slightly from his own alcohol consumption. “How about double or nothing – we each drink a mug of ale, and whoever is more sober at the end of the night gets $40.”
Steve tried to cut in. “Bucky, no –“
Bucky, yes.
“Deal.” Theo shook his hand again, confident that she was about to become $40 richer. Not only was Bucky already more drunk than her, but the Asgardian ale would only exacerbate the difference in their sobriety levels. 
He probably wouldn’t end up with alcohol poisoning, so it’d be fine. Maybe a hangover, but not alcohol poisoning.
“Now here’s the thing -” Bucky began, “- Before your mug can be refilled, you have to do the Asgardian call for another drink.” 
“Which is…?” Theo arched a wary eyebrow, unsure if she wanted to know the answer.
With perfect timing, Thor finished his beverage and demonstrated by throwing his mug down on the ground, shouting “ANOTHER!” as the glass smashed against the concrete and shattered into a million pieces.
Theo gasped and nearly flew out of her seat from the noise, heart pounding in her chest. She looked at the glistening fragments of glass, then up at Thor, then back down at the glass.
.  
Thor failed to stifle his laughter as Loki rolled his eyes in the background; with a flick of his wrist, the shards of glass vanished in a flash of emerald light. 
“Yeah that’s going to be a hard pass from me, dude.” Theo shook her head, stood up and walked over to the bar to refill mug. While she was behind the bar, she also pulled out a fresh mug for Bucky.
“Oh no, you don’t get to pour – we need someone neutral to do it, so we know it hasn’t been messed with!” Bucky called out, shaking his head at her as he moved to join her at the bar.
“Well I can certainly be the judge of that.” Loki volunteered, his voice a cool contrast to the rambunctious shouting and cheering that echoed from the rooftop.
“You’re really letting loose tonight,” Loki’s message appeared on Theo’s phone. “It’s nice to see you relax a bit.” Theo blushed and cracked a sheepish smile.
Loki strolled behind the bar, took both mugs and filled them up. Once satisfied that each mug contained the same amount of ale, he handed one mug to Bucky and the other to Theo. He then filled a mug of his own before returning to the rest of the group.
“As the judge, I reserve all right to document any embarrassing moments for blackmail in the future.” Loki told everyone quite seriously.  Shuri cracked up and added that if Loki didn’t capture the evidence, she certainly would, and with how the Princess of Wakanda held her phone at the ready, Theo fully believed her.. Theo returned to her seat, noticing Shuri had saved her place; Bucky trailed close behind.
“You say that like I’m going to do something embarrassing.” Theo teased, holding her mug up to Bucky and Loki as if to suggest a toast. “To Bucky making one of the dumbest bets he’ll ever make.” 
“To the new girl finally gracing us with her presence,” Bucky replied with a wide grin, “and not realizing she’s about to lose the bet!” 
The rest of the group held up their glasses and clinked them together, after which Bucky managed to drain about a quarter of his mug in one swift drink. 
“I didn’t realize this was a chugging contest.” Bruce commented with a nervous laugh as Bucky set his mug down.
Theo, recognizing that rapid alcohol consumption would not help Bucky in the bet, snickered. “You can’t enjoy it if you chug it, you know that right?”
Bucky offered a coy grin in response, his cheeks flushed pink from the alcohol in his veins.
He really had no idea what he was in for.
And I feel alright (Feel alright) Yeah I feel alright, Alright… I let go This is something spiritual When I say so Give me life, give me love Leveled up on a higher dose No sorrow (baby this is chemical) Hit just like an antidote (can’t come down, down) Adios (give me, yeah give me) Give me life, give me love  Leveled up on a higher dose
This was certainly a different side to Theo than Loki had ever seen.
Her guard wasn’t up in the same way it was at Stark’s party, nor was she silent and reserved, as if it were a mission briefing or meeting. The relaxed, easygoing demeanor that Loki eventually uncovered after multiple interactions made its debut amongst the others, and for the first time since the infamous briefing, it seemed like Theo wasn’t afraid to be the center of attention.
In truth, Theo’s decision to join in the evening’s activities surprised Loki. Though Theo agreed to stop declining the invitations from Maximoff, Loki had expected that this would not be the occasion which Theo relented, as the large group could be rather intimidating. Instead, he anticipated that Theo would wait until she could verify that it would be a small gathering with ample opportunities to depart, should she grow uncomfortable.
Instead, the sight of Theo trailing behind Maximoff as they crossed the rooftop brought the first of many pleasant surprises in the evening. If the expression Theo wore when Thor addressed her provided any indication, Theo had not anticipated such a robust gathering, and for a moment Loki feared she might teleport away from the immense attention suddenly focused on her.
Luckily, that had not been the case. From time to time, Loki caught Theo glancing towards him with a silent question in her eyes, usually as if trying to assess the situation, but as the evening wore on the questioning glances decreased, replaced by smirks and thinly veiled attempts to refrain from laughing at the others. 
Perhaps the greatest surprise in the evening came when Theo agreed to not only try some Asgardian ale, but challenge Barnes to what one might consider a drinking contest with the aforementioned ale. Given Barnes held two significant advantages - his substantially larger size and the physiological changes from the super-soldier serum - the odds seemed stacked against the sorceress. If anything, Loki suspected that hubris fueled Theo’s decision.
However, he was far too curious about the outcome to consider intervening unless things turned sour, and up to that point he saw no cause for concern. Theo seemed fine, continuing to engage in conversation while working through her beverage. Occasionally, Loki caught himself staring at Theo’s petite hands, her dainty fingers wrapped around the massive mug of ale. If he could be honest with himself, The juxtaposition was rather adorable.
Barnes, unsurprisingly, was the first to finish his ale. Theo, however, was not far behind.
“I have a proposition.” Banner spoke up, looking between the empty mugs with a twinkle in his eye. “I think we should give these two a field sobriety test and see who is more sober… For science, of course.”
Loki, unfamiliar with the test Banner mentioned, hesitated. “And what exactly does a Midgardian sobriety test entail?” 
“Oh, it’s easy.” Theo assured him, standing up and stretching both arms overhead. “You just answer some questions and do some basic tasks, like walking in a straight line and balancing on one foot for a while.”
Loki studied Theo with some doubt; when she didn’t notice, he messaged her. “Are you certain it will be so simple?”
Theo typed and sent her reply without even looking at her mobile’s screen. “Bucky’s about to get destroyed.”
Barnes swayed the moment he stood up, nearly tripping over his own feet as he made his way towards the area where they set up the test. He hadn’t even walked half of the line marked out before it became clear as crystal that Barnes was utterly toasted.
Theo, meanwhile, seemed only lightly buzzed. She easily completed the straight line test… while walking on her hands. 
“A woman after my own heart,” Romanoff laughed, clapping as Theo finished the test. “It’s not often we have team members who are able to move like that.”
“Girl, you’ve gotta teach me how to do that,” Shuri exclaimed, “That’s dope as hell!”
Theo gracefully returned to her feet, pausing for just a moment to adjust her clothes before she feigned a curtsy and smirked at Barnes, who simply groaned from where he sat.
From what little Loki knew of Theo’s background, the ability to walk on her hands came as no surprise - she had formal training in acrobatic maneuvers, and her goaltending demonstration highlighted her agility. Yet, she did not seem like the sort who would walk on her hands for fun… Though from what he had seen, she certainly was the sort of person who would do so to prove a point. Quite frankly, It was the kind of thing that Loki might do if he were in her position.
All things considered, it seemed like Theo might share Loki’s penchant for mischief and trickery.
“Normally gods are the only ones who don't get knocked on their ass by Asgardian ale.” Stark commented, brow furrowed and eyes narrow as he studied Theo. 
“Asgard isn’t the only place with abnormally strong liquor,” Theo casually explained, shaking out her shoulders and stretching her neck. “There really are some places with nothing better to do than drown your sorrows!” 
Loki couldn’t help but laugh at her comment, though the choice of words piqued his curiosity. Of course there was the realm she refused to speak of, yet it sounded as if Theo referred to more than one location. Had she visited other realms as well?
Surely, she was exaggerating.
“You’re talking about Michigan, right?” Stark teased.
“No, I’m talking about spending time with you.” Theo deadpanned, winning a lively round of jeers and laughter of the group.
Not done showing off, Theo proceeded to balance on one foot for five minutes while casually discussing the merits of different types of alcohol that she’d encountered and how the Midgardian body metabolized alcohol, far longer than the 30 seconds that were required for a field sobriety test (at least, according to Doctor Banner). Gesturing vivaciously as she spoke, Theo’s eyes lit up with amusement as the others laughed along with her commentary.
As someone who was an expert at embellishing stories, Loki could tell when Theo added flourishes or exaggerated details. However, any talented storyteller understood that the best tales required a bit of panache, and Theo was no exception. While the others may not have noticed, to Loki, it was painfully obvious that Theo knew she was putting on a show. 
“Okay, I think at this point there’s a pretty clear winner.” Rhodes snickered as Barnes laid down on a sofa, complaining about the way the world spun..
Theo happily took the $40 that Barnes previously threw down on the table, smirking as she dramatically tucked it into her wallet.
“Is anyone hungry? I could go for some pizza right about now.” Maximoff asked, looking around at the others.
“FRI, you heard the lady!” Stark lifted his head as he spoke up to no one in particular. “Well… I was actually thinking we could go out for pizza?” Maximoff suggested, shrugging her shoulders as she pointed behind herself towards the elevator.
Frankly, after such lively conversation and company, Loki was nowhere near ready to turn in for the night… Even if “going out” was not his preferred activity, perhaps it was worth accompanying the others on their venture.
“As much as I’d love to, I should probably make sure Bucky gets to bed in one piece.” Rogers replied, his point amplified by Barnes’ unintelligible grumbles.
“Yeah, it’s getting late –” Banner glanced at his watch before he stood up. “I’m ready to call it a night.” 
“I’d join you.” Loki nodded at Maximoff, lightly shrugging his shoulders. 
“Pizza sounds like fun.” Belova pushed herself up from her seat. “I’d go.”
“I’m down!” Shuri added, stretching as she rose to her feed. 
Theo had yet to respond, eyes darting between the others as they responded. She didn’t seem tired, but experience indicated she would not opt-in unless clearly invited to attend 
“The night is young – why not enjoy some excellent company for a little longer?” Turning to Theo, Loki offered a wry smile as he offered a hand to help her up. “Would you care to join? I suspect Maximoff would even let you select the pizza place…” He shot a knowing glance to Maximoff, who grinned and nodded.
“Sure, I suppose I can come along.” Theo perked up, mirroring Loki’s smile as she accepted the gesture, and allowed Loki to pull her to her feet. “I’m not sure what my options are for pizza around here, so I would defer to someone else to choose.”
Loki felt a bit of heat creep up on his cheeks - he ought to have remembered that Theo only recently became a resident of Midtown, so her knowledge of local eateries would be limited at best.
“Oh, there’s lots of great options nearby!” Parker exclaimed, bouncing up from his seat. “My favorite is–”
“She didn’t tell you to pick a place,” Shuri held a hand out to stop him as she smirked.
Parker replied with a pout, crossing his arms to make a point.
“If you tell me what place you want to go to, I’ll suggest it,” Theo winked at the spiderling.
“That’s not how this works!” Shuri protested, turning to Theo and covering her heart with mock offense.
“Okay, okay,” Theo held up her hands, laughing as she shook her head. “Wanda, pick a place since you wanted pizza and I have no idea what’s good around here.”
“I can do that - Vis, you coming?” Maximoff beamed at Vision, reaching for his hand.
“I shall accompany you.”
And off they went, in search of pizza.
Mic check  - say hi to LoLo Goodbye to normal Welcome to your mad world Where you can forget  About your boredom From this day forward Well I will give you love on every level
If anyone had asked Theo that morning how she expected her evening to go, drinking a supersoldier under the table and then going out for pizza at one in the morning with some of the Avengers would not have come to mind. Yet, in another edition of “my life is stranger than fiction,” that was exactly how Theo’s night played out.
The pizza place Wanda recommended was fairly close to Avengers tower - down an alleyway and through a side door, the restaurant sat tucked in the basement of a bar that Theo recognized because she played a couple shows there a while ago.. 
When they first walked in, the atmosphere practically screamed “hole in the wall.” The lights were kept low - low enough that it was easy to hide the dirt permanently coated on the floors. The smell of cheese and cheap beer lingered in the air. Even at the late hour, the place was packed. Perhaps the low light was to their advantage - no one seemed to notice the group of superheroes as they made their entrance, which was a relief. It took Theo back to the midnight hours in Durham. Her friends drunkenly crowded into booths for food after spending the night getting guys to buy out the bar for them. Theo had to play along in those days in order to hide her magic and its effects on her body - however, the lack of drunkenness meant she was still able to recall the exact way the place felt. And this… this felt all too familiar. 
When they found an empty booth, they wasted no time claiming it as their own, even if it meant they had to squish together so everyone fit. With the way they packed themselves together, Theo couldn’t help but notice Loki’s body against hers, steady and firm without encroaching on her personal space. Loki may have been her first friend among the Avengers, but that didn’t mean they were ever quite so close. From Theo’s observations, Loki seemed like he avoided physical contact whenever possible, recoiling from Thor’s touch and carefully distancing himself when anyone else drew near. Really, Theo couldn’t remember ever having made any physical contact with him that wasn’t an accidental brush of the hands when they handed items to each other. 
Despite feeling a bit thrown off by the touch, she wasn’t uncomfortable… If anything, it was actually kind of nice. 
Not that she was going to say anything, because that would absolutely make it weird. 
The effortless, lighthearted conversation that started on the rooftop continued the moment they sat down, even as everyone made quick work of the first round of drinks and the pizza, continuing to the extent that it wasn’t long before they ordered another round of drinks. 
After the waitress delivered the second round of drinks, Wanda swallowed the bite of pizza she had been chewing, then spoke up. 
“Thank you.” Wanda paused, considering her words. “For coming out tonight, that is. This has been fun.” She beamed at Theo. “I’m glad you have a sense of humor. The pigeon was well played.”
Theo blushed, biting back a smile. “Thanks for letting me in on the fun… though I have to say, I think Loki took the trophy home for best prank of the night.”
This time Loki didn’t try to deny it, grinning with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “It is important to remind my brother to stay humble… ‘Tis best to not allow his ego to overtake him. Do you agree?”
Theo let out a laugh, just barely tinged with melancholy as she thought about her sister. “That is part of a sibling’s job description, isn’t it?”
“Am I remembering correctly that you have a sister?” Vision asked Theo. “I recall mention of a sibling in your file, though you’ve not spoken much on the matter.”
Theo flinched, though the motion was barely perceptible. Loki’s eyes flickered over at her - he must have still noticed. 
“I do… but she’s presumed dead, like my parents. We got separated when we ended up in the other realm” Theo shrugged as nonchalantly as she could manage, but the way the expressions in the group softened told her that they picked up on her discomfort around the topic. “My Mémère – err, my Grandma – raised me after that, and she raised my younger cousin, Max; he’s practically my younger brother.”
“There’s no reason to be nervous; family is a complicated subject for pretty much everyone on the team.” Wanda assured her.
Theo flashed a thin, yet grateful smile. “Yeah, I gathered that was practically a prerequisite for joining the Avengers.”
Loki snorted at her comment.
Wanda took the opportunity to change the topic, launching into the recap of the last band that she saw in this particular place. Apparently this was one of her favorite spots to go when she wanted to blend in and have some fun, especially since the poor lighting made it hard to be recognized. 
As Wanda spoke, Theo noticed a young couple making out next to a jukebox and couldn’t help but smile at the sight – they may have assumed that the poor lighting obscured them from view, but their affection was sweet. Another wave of nostalgia from her days in Durham washed over Theo.
It occurred to her that everyone in the booth had lived vastly different lives from her own: a literal princess sat next to a kid who grew up in Queens; an orphan sat next to an android, who sat across from a frost giant/literal god, and on Theo’s opposite side was someone who trained to be a spy since before she could walk. However, Theo didn’t feel like a fish out of water. On the contrary, she actually felt like she belonged there, sitting in this cramped booth with six other people who knew what it was like to be different. And the best part was, she didn’t even have to hide what made her unique.
Her heart warmed at the thought.
By the time they finally left the pizza place, it was nearing three in the morning – the sun would rise in a few hours, however Theo was still wide awake. Wanda must have sensed that Theo was still ready for an adventure because she paused outside, looking in the direction opposite the tower.
“So where are we going now?” Theo inquired, looking between the others. 
“Given you have a high alcohol tolerance, I think we should do some bar hopping,” Wanda offered, “This is New York, after all, the city that never sleeps. We might as well make it a proper night out!”
“The princess is out of her tower and there are some fine establishments nearby.” Loki added, a smug expression curling over his lips as he crossed his arms. Shuri cracked up, entirely aware that Loki was referring to Theo and not to her.
“I don’t know why you’re calling me a princess when we have a literal princess with us.” Theo offered a playful scoff in response to his joke, pointing at Shuri. 
“The literal princess had a great time, but she’s gotta go back to Oakland tomorrow.” Shuri smirked and took a bow. “So I’ve gotta call it a night.”
“Yeah, I have a biology exam I need to study for tomorrow, so I should get some sleep.” Peter agreed.
“I head out for a mission bright and early,” Yelena sighed, “So I should probably go too.”
“They may be ditching us, but I’m down to go check out the bars,” Theo offered. “But I hope you don’t make the same mistake Bucky did - that might not go as well, since you aren’t a super soldier.”
Wanda laughed freely, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Oh no, I’m not about to try and match you drink for drink. Consider this our way of giving you a tour of the neighborhood!”
Vision, of course, was also fine with bar hopping; as long as Wanda was there it seemed like he would be happy. 
After bidding goodnight to Shuri, Peter, and Yelena, the remaining four Avengers departed for the first bar. The cover of night provided protection from the stares that Theo expected to get walking down the street, though it was likely helped by the decrease in people out and about at the odd hour. 
The quartet moved between local bars seamlessly. The sight of the Avengers didn’t draw the looks Theo would have expected most celebrities to draw - the other three, apparently, were regulars. They chatted with other customers and joked around with the bartenders, always making a point to casually slip an introduction to Theo in the mix without making it awkward. More often than not, the other customers would buy a round of drinks for the group as a way of welcoming Theo to the team, and before Theo could respond either Loki or Wanda would accept on her behalf.
If Theo didn’t know better, Loki and Wanda were on a mission to see just how much alcohol it took to get Theo drunk; frankly, as long as Theo wasn’t the one footing the bill, she didn’t mind the opportunity to loosen up a bit.
As the sun crept over the horizon, Theo felt the warm buzz that came with mild inebriation, having consumed enough alcohol to finally overcome her obnoxious tolerance. 
Loki had a slight flush to his cheeks and a hint of glassiness in his eyes – there was no way that he could become intoxicated from what a human would drink alone, but between the Asgardian ale he consumed earlier and the other drinks, he seemed more relaxed than usual. Up until that point, Theo noticed that even when relaxed, Loki always had this air of being immensely composed, but that night it seemed like he let some of that properness fall away and let his guard drop ever-so-slightly.
In contrast, Wanda was comfortably drunk, allowing herself to hiccup and giggle freely while slurring some of her words. Not messy drunk by any means, thanks to Loki and Vision switching out some of her drinks for Shirley Temples when Wanda wasn’t looking (given how easily they managed the feat, Theo guessed it wasn’t the first time they had swapped her drinks so she didn’t get sick). 
Vision was the only one who was sober, but that had to be a normal occurrence… Not shockingly, it was impossible for an artificial intelligence system to process alcohol. Theo found it odd to watch Vision eat and drink like a normal person, since he didn’t actually digest food and that he didn’t even need to eat to function. The sight was even more jarring when he camouflaged himself to appear like a person and not an android, which he did anytime he ventured into public. 
Still, it wasn’t the weirdest thing Theo had ever seen…
With the sun peeking over the horizon, bringing with it the impending arrival of the morning, the group agreed it was time to return to the tower. While there was nothing on their agenda for the day that they had to prepare for, by that time everyone had been awake long enough that they were more than ready for bed. Vision and Wanda led the way, Vision wrapping his arm around Wanda to help her stay steady as she giggled and cooed endlessly at him, utterly lovestruck each time she looked at her partner. 
Behind them, Loki and Theo strolled beside each other in comfortable silence. As they moved, Theo discreetly observed Loki. His normally upright, regal posture had softened. His eyes gazed out into the distance, though it didn’t seem like they had a fixed point of interest. He kept his hands in his pockets, and his expression reserved - just the slightest hint of knitted brows adorned his expression.
The man beside her was different from the Loki that Theo first met, or the Loki she saw earlier in the evening – the sharp, charismatic, and sarcastic prince was replaced by a much quieter, introspective man. Even with the faint warmth of the alcohol in Theo’s system, she could sense storms swirling in his mind that were locked away from public view. She couldn’t help but wonder how often he allowed that side of him to show.
When they arrived at the tower and made their way up to the residential floors, Theo couldn’t help but notice the way that Loki held the elevator door for her, and how he placed his hand on the small of her back as she passed by. It must have been the way that Loki was raised that made him do those things - as a prince, he must have been taught these types of gestures as a part of proper etiquette - but the feeling of his touch lingered long after his hand left her back.
No one else was around, which meant that it was either too early for the others to be up, or those who were already awake were off doing something else. Those moments of stillness were rare in the tower, and after a long but fun night out, Theo was grateful for the peace and quiet. Up ahead, Wanda giggled and squealed as Vision patiently coaxed her towards their suite. It didn’t take long for them to disappear behind the door, leaving Loki and Theo to themselves. The pair’s comfortable silence continued as they made their way down the hall, pausing outside the door to Theo’s suite.
“This was a lot of fun,” Theo commented to Loki, a shy smile on her lips as she took hold of the door handle, but refrained from opening the door.
“Indeed,” he nodded, sticking his hands back in his pockets and shifting his weight back onto his heels as he gave her a nervous smile. “I’m glad you’ve come out of your shell a bit more – it is nice to spend time with you.” 
They both stood there, biting back smiles as they looked into each other’s eyes. In the peace of the tower and the sun rising, there was almost a special sort of peace that fell between them - a moment frozen in time.
Eventually though, that moment had to end.
Theo cleared her throat, a rising heat now present on her cheeks. “Well, I should probably…” Theo trailed off, gesturing that she was going to head inside. “Uh, good night Loki.”
“Right,” Loki blushed, looking away as he dipped his head. “Good night Theo.” 
Theo found herself reflecting on the night as she got ready for bed. Yes, Loki, the little bastard was right - the Avengers, for all their initial assumptions and hesitations, genuinely did want to be her friend.
And despite every reason why Theo shouldn’t want to, at the end of the day… She wanted to be their friend too. 
I let go (I let go) This is something spiritual (something spiritual) A vibrant soul (a vibrant soul) Give me life, give me love Got me hooked on a higher dose No sorrow (baby this is chemical) Hit just like an antidote (can’t come down, down) Adios (give me, yeah give me) Give me life, give me love  Leveled up on a higher dose
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