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cliosunshine · 3 hours ago

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𝐎𝐟 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐚𝐭𝐬 𝐈𝐈

Jason Todd x dragon trainer!reader

Summary: after a portal mysteriously opened in your world, setting all of your dragons loose, you must find a way to take them all back home before it's too late and before you catch feelings for a certain cute guy in a red helmet

Warnings: none, slight mention of mythological creature abuse, Jason and reader begin to bond

Word count: 3.2k

A/N: second part to my first ever fic! I was happy so many of you enjoyed it, please let me know if you'd like a third part <3

As you walked around the cave, all you could do was admire the advanced technology surrounding you. You were craning your head up to get a better view of the animatronic T-Rex, a cup of tea in your hand. It was kindly offered to you by what you could only assume to be Batman’s butler, Alfred. The old man had kind eyes and also gave you a slice of pecan pie, which you really couldn’t refuse, especially after everyone in the room heard your stomach grumbling.

“So, tell me,” you started to say, swishing the amber liquid in your cup, “how can we find a way to get me and my dragons back home if we don’t know who opened the portal in the first place and where it was activated?”

Batman let out a contemplative hum, his back turned to you. He was sitting at the console typing away. “We need to check all of the security cameras in the city and also take a look at the air’s static and electromagnetic radiations that have possibly interfered with the electronic devices in Gotham”

The others were in the room as well, each one of them with their brows furrowed, having clearly switched to ‘professional’ mode, as you liked to call it.

With their domino masks and helmets gone, you could see how the three young men – Nightwing, Red Hood and Robin – starkly resembled Batman. You didn’t know why they decided to reveal their identities. Thinking it over, you realised they actually didn’t since you couldn’t recognise them and they hadn’t given you their real names. It probably figured that since you came from another universe altogether, you’d pose no threat to their identity.

Your gaze lingered on Red Hood’s face. He had a rugged yet defined look to him that didn’t let your eyes glance away. Be it the greenish eyes, the white streak on is hair or the scar on his neck, but you couldn’t look away. You must’ve been staring pretty intensely since he lowered his gaze onto yours, a slight blush creeping up his neck and covering his ears.

You quickly looked away, your own face heating up in embarrassment at being caught.

Jason cleared his throat, trying his best not to let a chuckle escape him at your flustered reaction.

Cass raised a brow at you two, tilting her head to the side curiously.

“We should go out and stop the dragons before they cause even more damage,” quipped Dick all of a sudden, quickly rising to his feet with newfound energy.

You clasped your hands together, nodding in agreement.

“Yes! We should-”

Roarrr

Your brows furrowed at the noise. It clearly came from the batcave, but that wasn’t a voice you recognised at all.

You looked at the others with a puzzled expression. They all seemed rather calm and even amused by the sound.

“This way, Goliath, please, use your legs for once in your life-”

You turned to where Robin’s voice came and your expression lit up upon seeing the cutest and fluffiest red dragon just mere meters from you.

“Aww who’s this now?” you asked as you approached the creature.

Robin pushed the dragon towards you to no avail and you couldn’t help but chuckle at the scene.

“He’s- Goliath-” he explained between pushes, clearly out of breath.

The dragon eyed you warily.

You smiled softly at him, extending a hand for him to sniff, “He can probably smell the other dragons on me,” you explained as you saw his ears perk up upon smelling your skin.

He gave you a look of approval and you began stroking his red fur. It was far softer than you had anticipated and it had a weird feeling to it. You pulled your hand back, examining it.

You grimaced as you saw your entire hand covered in a shiny, slippery substance.

“Why is he covered in oil?”

Robin gave you a pleading look for half a second, before regaining his usual stoic composure.

“He’s been itching a lot for the past few weeks and we figured that-…uhm…the best way to treat him was to put an ointment on his body,” he explained, your wild out gaze on his making him freak out internally that he somehow messed up.

“Poor Goliath,” you cooed at the dragon, scratching his chin. You were grateful that you couldn’t bring Obsidian in the cave with you or he would have thrown a jealous fit. You continued your ministrations as you gave him a once over. His skin was reddened because of the itch and the ointment and he continued to scratch his ears.

“I think he may have a skin infection,” you diagnosed, cleaning your hands with a tissue Robin gave you. “If I were at the sanctuary, I would make him a sage compress and given him a two-week treatment.”

You sighed in contemplation, wondering what to do.

Robin came over to you, a map in his hands, “Gotham’s botanical park is a few blocks away from here. Nobody’s there during the night so maybe we could break in and get the ingredients you need.”

You raised your brows at him, amused by the fact that a vigilante would actually commit a break in and theft.

Sounds of agreement followed his proposition and you could only nod along.

“We can drop by and get the ingredients while we search for the other dragons,” suggested Nightwing, looking over at you. You nodded again.

“Great then,” he said, clapping his hands once, “We need to separate so we can cover more ground,”

Immediately hands flew up and shouts were exchanged about who was going to team up with who.

“I wanna go with the bat!” snickered Spoiler, “I can’t wait to see him try to catch a dragon”

Batman still had his back turned, but was definitely listening to the conversation because his shoulders stiffened.

“No, I must go with Batman, I’m Robin after all-”

“You wouldn’t even tease him like I would!”

The bickering stopped as everyone’s attention snapped onto Orphan, who was signing something.

“What did she say?” you asked, not being able to understand her and honestly just having learned a few signs for one of your deaf dragons, nothing more.

Nighwing beamed, “She said that you and Hood over here should team up and search for both the dragons and the herbs together”

Oh.

You and Red Hood both looked at each other and you suddenly registered what was bound to happen.

You and this incredibly attractive stranger on Obsidian’s back.

Oh fuck.

You laughed nervously and he seemed to mimic you.

“Uhm, alright then,” you squeaked out, feeling everyone’s eyes on you, even Batman’s.

“Off you go, then, shoo,” Nightwing escorted you to the exit of the batcave, earning more than a few grumbled cusses from Red Hood – or should you just call him Hood?

You hardly managed to choke out a “goodbye” before the door closed centimetres from your face.

“What a dickhead,” said the vigilante next to you, this time with only his domino mask on, “I apologise on his behalf- he doesn’t know when to shut up,” he says with an irritated groan.

You chuckle at that, reassuring him. As you approached your dragon, you glanced up at him once more, taking in how his sharp features contrasted greatly with the soft curls of his black hair.

The moonlight gave him a sort of vampiresque look and you couldn’t help but notice how his eyes seemed to…glow? It seemed as if his blueish-greenish eyes did a complete 180 and became this neon green colour.

You narrowed your eyes at that, continuing to walk.

Meanwhile, Jason side eyed you the entire walk back to Obsidian.

His mind wandered as he tried to come up with possible explanations about this whole situation. Who were you and where did you even come from. He wasn’t buying the whole “Oh, I come from Earth!” thing and neither were his brothers. Maybe there was a possibility that you truly came from a parallel universe were apparently dragons existed, but then why hadn’t they had at least one encounter with these anomalies before?

He thought back to Superman and Krypton. Although it probably wasn’t the exactly same thing, he guessed that if Bruce was allies and friends (although he’d never admit it) with Clark, then anything was possible.

He also found you really pretty and not alien-looking at all, but that’s beside the point.

His eyes wandered back to the lasso on your utility belt. He had sworn that when it was up in the air, swinging above your head in loose circles it looked exactly like Wonder Woman’s.

He had to ask you about that later. For now, he could only grief his bike even further as he took a good look at the dragon in front of him that looked like it wanted to tear his head off.

He could only reciprocate the glare as your back was turned to both of them, fishing out your list of ingredients that were needed to make the compress.

“Ok, so” you started, oblivious to the death stare contest between Jason and the dragon, “are you ready for a once-in-a-lifetime experience?”

Jason looked at your excited expression and gulped nervously when your dragon huffed begrudgingly, clearly not wanting to let him on.

“You sure about me getting on this thing?” Those were fighting words for the dragon, who shrieked offended at being called a thing.

You tried to not worsen things further, putting your palm out in dissuasion, smiling nervously.

“He can understand your every word, Hood” you explained, your nervous and apologetic tone prompting Jason to see in the corner of his eye how the black dragon huffed in agreement, the smoke coming out of his nostrils making him wince.

He rubbed his neck sheepishly, “Sorry, I didn’t realize”

You waved him off with a smile, “It’s all good. Have you ever ridden a horse before?”

Jason took a second to think to himself – have I ever rode a horse before? - . He didn’t know if he had no memory of doing so from all the concussions he’s had this year alone or because your gaze was making him slightly nervous. Yeah, it was probably the latter.

“No,” was all he manged to blurt out, really not wanting to get on your dragon’s back.

“Good, because it’s nothing like it!” You laughed out, your shoulders relaxing, “I feared you would’ve been one of those people who tried to get Obi moving by slightly kicking on his stomach because trust me – it would’ve ended badly”

Jason didn’t find humour in that, but chuckled along nevertheless.

He watched as you hopped on your dragon’s back with elegance and precision, not a single movement wasted. He also took notice at how Obsidian helped you up by lowering one of his wings. He put his helmet on, missing your disappointed look at his now covered face.

“Come on, take my hand and put your right foot on Obi’s wing bone” you instructed as you pointed at where your foot previously was, your other hand outstretched for him to take.

Jason looked at your hand, then at your face. He looked at your hand again.

You couldn’t possibly lift half his body weight up with a single hand, right? A hand that was significant smaller than this, nonetheless.

“Are you sure about this? I’m a big guy, I don’t want to – Oh shit!”

He didn’t finish his sentence as you bent down to grab his hand and Obsidian nudged his foot on his wing, only to lift his whole body up as if he weighted nothing and fling him up in the hair. Jason screamed as he tried not to fly right into the bush behind you. He thankfully didn’t as your tight grip on his hand prevented him from becoming the next rocket man of Gotham.

He landed right behind you, his whole body shaking as he tried to regain his composure.

“Don’t worry about me, Obi does all the heavy lifting,” you said as you laughed so much that tears started to form at the corners of your eyes. Your dragon seemed to mimic your laugh with huffs and puffs as he moved his head up and down with closed eyes.

Behind you, sitting with an unamused expression and arms crossed over his chest, Jason had a half-mind to just ditch the two of you and walk to the botanic garden alone.

Your laugh quieted down and you looked back at him, this time with a genuinely apologetic look in your eyes.

He lifted the corners of his mouth ever so slightly, thankful for his helmet covering his face.

At least someone had the guts to mess with him like that.

“Hold on tightly. I’m warning you, I’ll try to go as slowly as I can but Obi doesn’t like men that much and will actively try to throw you off, so it’s better if you hold onto me, that way he won’t do it,” you told Jason and he glanced down at the dragon, who was already looking at him with an already mischievous look in his eyes. Fucking hell. He hoped to survive his first ever dragon ride.

Jason lifted his hands that were previously on his lap and carefully held your waist, only his gloves and a few layers of clothes separating your skin from his. He swore he could feel the warmth radiating from your body.

“I said tighter, Hood,” you told him in a firmer tone, to which he responded by getting closer to you and pressing his chest to your back, his arms now circling your waist tightly.

He could feel your heartbeat picking up significantly and smiled to himself.

“O-okay, that’s better,” you managed to squeak out before tapping your dragon’s neck once.

The sudden movement made him spread out his wings and soon enough you found yourselves up in the air, taking in Gotham’s skyline from above.

Jason couldn’t help but bring you in even tighter, trying his best not to hinder your mobility as you tapped Obsidian’s ears to signal when to turn, opting your practiced tapping signs rather than having to shout out directions, now that you had someone else riding with you.

“Is this the place?” you turned around towards Jason as you got closer to a sign that had “Gotham Public Botanic Garden” written in dark green letters.

Jason nodded, not being able to utter a sound as the proximity between you two made him nervous. He was accustomed to being held from behind when he rescued civilians and tried to take them someplace safe, but to hold on to someone and trust them with his life as he travelled on a dragon’s back? Yeah, that was a new one for him.

You patted Obsidian’s back twice, prompting him to land near the entrance. Thankfully no one was in sight as Jason figured you would’ve gotten more than a few odd looks.

He was the first one to hop off the dragon’s back, already missing your body’s warmth as he tried to hold on to whatever remains where left of it on his leather jacket.

You then slid down, petting Obsidian’s snout with tenderness and placing your lips near his spiked cheek, “Thanks, Obi. Now let’s go, we need to find quite a few things to help Goliath out.”

As you made your way through the various greenhouses, Jason walked by your side and Obsidian on the opposite one, protecting you from harm.

If he could say one good thing about that damn dragon, Jason would praise him for his protectiveness over you. He noticed how, from the very start, he always kept his eyes trained on you, not missing a single sign of discomfort and immediately taking action when he felt like you were being threatened.

Other than that, he was a complete jerk.

You continued to walk in peaceful silence that was only interrupted by you telling him you found another herb needed for the compress.

When you had almost gone through the whole list, Jason spoke up.

“How do you know so much about dragons?” he asked, curiosity lacing his voice.

You smiled fondly at nothing in particular, as if reminiscing some good memories.

“You see,” you continued walking, your gaze never leaving the herbs in your hand, “I was absolutely distraught at how the majority of the people where I come from treat animals that aren’t your usual house pets, especially dragons. They would more often than not abuse, torture and kill them just for fun or to boast to others how they managed to kill a dragon-” you cut yourself off with a shaky breath, anger evident in your voice and your eyes.

Obsidian nudged your arm with a sad face, letting out a low grumble and you smiled weakly at him. Jason wanted to put an arm around your shoulders and pull you close to him, but he restrained himself.

“I found Obi one morning while working out in the park,” you continued, “and he was so cute, sitting there in that box that he accidentally had set on fire, so chubby and round with those big amber eyes- gosh he was adorable,” you chuckled, a single tear managing to escape and running down your cheek. Jason’s hand twitched by his side.

“I took him home. My parents were seething with rage at the thought of me taking care of a dragon, an animal everybody in our community despised. So I left home and went to live with my best friend, Katie, in a house near our hometown’s lake and from there, piece by piece, we learned more about dragons as we rescued them.”

Jason stayed silent, your words making him see you in a new light. He admired your strength and perseverance, your will to not give up and go against your parents to do what you knew was right. He saw a lot of himself in you and he liked that.

“That’s incredible…wait, I never got your name” he paused embarrassed, having completely forgotten to ask your name at the batcave.

You smiled softly, not a hint of offence in your kind eyes, “No biggie,” you shrugged light-heartedly, “it’s Y/N”.

“That’s a pretty name.”

“Thanks”

You stayed like that for a while, content in the silent agreement you both had settled upon. Jason liked you. you weren’t over the top like his siblings were, but also not a complete recluse who disdained human contact, as often found himself to be like. You were…you. And he liked that.

Soon enough, you had gathered all your ingredients and were getting back onto Obsidian’s back. This time the dragon was much gentler with Jason. He probably felt the shift in demeanour you and him had during the walk and eased up on him. Jason was grateful for not getting hauled up like a ragdoll a second time.

As you were back up into the air, a sense of tranquillity engulfed the both of you before a faraway shriek reminded Jason that you still had another dozen or so more dragons to find and bring back to the manor.

Exchanging a look with you, he observed you directing Obsidian to where you had heard the sound, before a blaze interrupter your path and a pair of glowing eyes were set on the three of you.

Jason’s blood ran cold and his mouth moved faster than his thoughts could as he pointed a gun at the fire-spitting dragon.

“That’s the fucker that melter my bike!”

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #dc x reader #jason todd fic #red hood x reader #dc comics #jason todd x y/n

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daemonhxckergrrl · 1 year ago

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hot take: trying things you've had adverse reactions to in the past (including full-on sensory-related meltdowns) to see if you may enjoy it now is good, actually. how you processed Bad Texture 10 years ago may be different to how you do now. or it may not. but the only way to know is to try.

#daemon.md #this might get me cancelled lmao #i'm autistic i understand what i'm on about here #hated mushrooms as a kid #like i had a real intense reaction to trying them #slimy and rubbery and they look weird and the gills were freaky #and after that i found out one time that one dinner had them snuck in chopped up real small so i wouldn't notice #and i didn't notice #but when i found out i was screaming #crying #retching #on the floor #and wouldn't let up #idk how long for #but a While #then i never had them for like 15 years #refused to #no matter how many times i was offered them #in so many ways #but i tried one fried a few years ago #and tried a tiny bit of a raw one #and didn't hate them #and now i've come to love them and put them in so many things #but i hate them grilled or baked #only fried or like in a sauce #mushrooms cooked in an oven are still Bad Texture #blegh

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the-moogle-of-your-nightmares · 2 months ago

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one thing i really deeply wish is that i'd had access as a kid to the plural community and information that are more easily available today, instead of my first experience with plural community which both took it seriously and was nonjudgmental having been 10's era tul/pa.info lmao

#moogletalks #in some ways it was a wonderful community; and it taught me a lot of really helpful things #and made me feel validated and hopeful that This is a Thing That You Can Continue to Be and Develop in an Adult Life #instead of feeling like there was a time limit for when plurality stopped being Childlike Imagination and started being Craziness(tm)#(lots to unpack there lol)#.....in other ways not only was there Some Real Fuckery going on in the community in general; on an interpersonal basis #but i cannot overstate how horrifically toxic and damaging some of the things it taught me about plurality were #and how when i entered the phase of young adulthood where i realized the approach it had demanded of me was unsustainable to my survival #instead of having other perspectives on hand to go 'hey yeah you're not torturing your parts to death out of laziness if they go dormant'#'and/or if you don't spend hours of extremely grueling intensive work at minimum into maintaining them every single day of your life'#'and that if they dissolve into nothing because you Didn't Pay Them Enough Attention and you try to recreate them it won't be the same one'#'and if they DO actually come back as themselves they'll be horribly broken and traumatized and probably hate you forever'#'who the fuck told you that. oh my god?'#all i had to go on was 'either you're plural or you live an actual functional life in the real world; and i can't not do the latter atp'#and the result was repressing myself in an incredibly traumatic way i have just never fully recovered from even now #the fun cherry on top was that later when i *did* try to ask (very kind and well-meaning) plural ppl from another mental health community #if anything i described sounded familiar to their own experiences; or ones they had heard from other people #their response was pretty much 'idk that doesn't sound plural to me; i'm sorry; it's something where if you have it you know :('#me crying my eyes out for days afterward: obviously this reaction is bc i want to appropriate plurality to feel special #and am throwing tantrums at having the bubble broken by Reality #anyway. it's been a lot and yeah i really wish i'd had literally any other affirming plural community as a kid lol #ableism cw #internalized ableism cw #pluralitag #traumatag #adventures in mental illness #disabilitag

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ponderingmoonlight · 1 month ago

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Gojo watching 'How to Be a Better Husband' videos in secret so he'd be ready if you ever said yes

Satoru Gojo isn’t exactly known for being serious. He’s loud, playful, and the absolute embodiment of overconfidence dripping from each and every pore. So when you walk into the living room and see him hunched over his phone, intently focused on something, it’s strange enough to make you stop in your tracks.

You peer over the back of the couch, curious. His earbuds are in, and his eyes are glued to the screen. You can’t hear the sound, but the title of the video makes your brows shoot up and heart skip a beat.

“How to Be a Better Husband.”

Your first instinct is to laugh. Satoru watching something like that? The man who can't even remember what day of the week it is, let alone handle responsibility in any meaningful way? The man who never fails to make fun of you, who never gave you the feeling that your relationship is this serious before?

But as you watch him sit there, shoulders tense and gaze unwavering, a strange warmth curls in your chest. Is this...really how he feels?

He pauses the video to take notes - actual notes. Scribbling them down on a notepad with the same intensity he usually reserves for strategizing in battle. You blink, feeling heat shoot up your cheeks.

What’s more shocking is the care written all over his face. His usual cocky smirk is gone, replaced with concentration, like this is something he doesn’t want to mess up. And maybe that’s what hits you hardest. The fact that he’s trying. That he’s preparing for something you haven’t even agreed to yet.

You haven’t said yes to marriage, haven’t even had a real conversation about it. But here he is, studying for a future he’s hoping for, one where you’ve chosen him. He’s already thinking of how he can be better, how he can be enough for you.

The thought stirs something deep in your chest.

“What are you doing?” you finally ask, your voice teasing but soft as you lean over the back of the couch.

He jumps slightly, pulling out one earbud as he looks up at you, a sheepish grin spreading across his face.

“Oh, y’know… just, uh… preparing.”

He waves his phone in the air, as if that explains everything.

“Preparing for what?”

You tilt your head, pretending not to notice the blush creeping up his neck.

“For… when you marry me, obviously.”

He grins wider, but there's a nervousness underneath it, like he's half-joking but also completely serious.

“Gotta make sure I’m husband material, right?”

You raise an eyebrow.

“And watching YouTube videos is going to make you a better husband?”

“Hey, don’t knock it 'til you try it. These guys have great tips.”

He taps his phone, the confidence slipping back into his voice, though his eyes still flicker to you like he’s waiting for your reaction.

You shake your head, smiling despite yourself.

“Satoru, you’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah, but you love me anyway,” he teases, sliding his arm around your waist as you lean over the couch.

His tone is light, but the way his eyes hold yours for a moment longer than usual - it makes your heart flutter.

And he’s right. You do love him. In all his chaotic, larger-than-life glory. But this? Seeing him like this, quietly working to be better for you? It’s a different side of him, one that makes you realize just how much he’s thought about a future with you.

You press a soft kiss to his forehead, and he blinks up at you, surprised.

“What was that for?”

“For trying,” you say quietly.

"You’re already enough, you know."

His grin softens, and he pulls you down into his lap, wrapping you in his arms.

“Good to know. But I’m still watching these videos. Just in case.”

You chuckle, resting your head against his shoulder.

“Whatever makes you feel prepared.”

Satoru hums, content. “I want to be ready for the day you say yes.”

And the way he says it. Like he knows that one day you will makes you realize that maybe, just maybe, you’re starting to feel the same way.

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strwberri-milk · 2 months ago

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Hello 👋. May I request for our LADS men's reaction if we give them a mini plushie version of ourselves for company? (and maybe we have a mini plushie version of them). Like when Xavi runs off on his own or when Zayne is busy or when We're too busy to visit Rafa or when we can't meet Sylus. 🤭. Sorry I'm too sad that I can't get Zayne's card so I'm hunting all the fluff I can find and I don't know what type of finance ruining shenanigans are they throwing for his bday

good luck solider i was there during the rafayel apocalypse and thank god i got a job to pay back that hole in my wallet

Zayne didn't know what to make of the little plush that appeared on his desk after you visited him one day. He couldn't help but laugh as he realised how close it looked to you, smiling to himself when he sends you a picture of it.

You text back immediately, asking him if he likes the fact that he has a little version of you to keep him company. He's busy trying to figure out when you had the time do all of this when you send him another photo of yourself holding a tiny Zayne plushie, telling him that you didn't want to be left alone either for his overnights.

The entire ordeal has him admiring just how adorable you are. He can't believe how lucky he is to have found you, texting you a thank you as he makes sure the plush of you has a safe spot on his desk.

Xavier didn't quite know what to do when he was presented with a little plushie version of yourself. His first thought was to keep you safe in his pocket but he was worried you'd fall out while he was fighting.

He ends up finding a safe space in his home to keep it and when he goes to work he keeps it with a small bag of his other things for the office. He won't take it to the field in worries of losing the plush you gave to him. He protects it the way he does you which you find totally adorable.

Rafayel absolutely adores the little thing you give him. He loves it so much that he takes it everywhere with him. Whenever he gets bored from painting or inspired to he starts making new outfits for the plush. The plush ends up amassing a wardrobe you think is a little too intensive for a stuffed toy but Rafayel makes sure you don't miss out by buying you new clothes too. You have caught him dozing off with it on multiple occasions if you take too long to visit him and you never have the heart to take it away from him.

Sylus doesn't really know what to do with it. In his opinion he'd have a much better time with the real deal but you tell him that you can't always be by his side so this is a much better substitute. He tries to tell you again that he'd just come and find you but you aren't having any of it, telling him to consider the plush an extension of you.

When you say it like that he decides he has no choice but to make sure the plush of you is treated just as well as he treats you. He doesn't spoil it by any means but whenever you see it you find that it's tidy and pristine, sitting carefully on a higher shelf to avoid being knocked down but coincidentally at a perfect height for him to reach.

#love and deepspace x reader #l&ds x reader #zayne x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader #sylus x reader #l&ds zayne x reader #l&ds xavier x reader #l&ds rafayel x reader #l&ds sylus x reader #lads zayne x reader #lads xavier x reader #lads rafayel x reader #lads sylus x reader #lnds zayne x reader #lnds xavier x reader #lnds rafayel x reader #lnds sylus x reader

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simpjaes · 11 months ago

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FRENZY ៸៸៸ part two

Jake is experiencing real love for the first time in his life. He’s so infatuated with you that he would do anything to make you understand. And you? Oh, you are in no place to argue with a man who appears to be perfect.

៸៸៸ part one here ៸៸៸ you must read the first part in order to understand this one!

៸៸៸ sim jake x afab reader

៸៸៸ minors dni

៸៸៸ wordcount: 14.2k

៸៸៸ genre: stalker au, dark fic, slow burn, smut

៸៸៸ content tags: switch!stalker jake, he is gross but on a plus side he’s got a big shlong, obsession, panty stealing/sniffing, toothbrush sucking, shower water tasting, jealousy, manipulation, past trauma involving sa of reader, reader is manipulated into being obsessed with him too, trauma, jake is very insane, he’s thinks you need him to fix you, reader can be lifted and carried by him.

៸៸៸ !WARNINGS! there is intense trauma, past abuse, and conflict in this fic. It’s dark with mentions of noncon and dubcon, and an instance where jake keeps going after reader faints. Everything is consenting between the two but only because he is manipulative and a bad person. if you can’t handle it, don't read it.

៸៸៸ a/n: sorry again for the way i had to post this in two parts, still i hope it was worth the wait!

៸៸៸ nsfw tags under cut

៸៸៸ nsfw tags for the whole fic, as in both chapters: masochism (jake), sadism (reader and jake), overstimulation, painful masturbation, praise, worship, dirty talk, blowjob, finger fucking, pussy eating, riding, missionary, mating press, standing up sex yayyyyy, huge giant fat cock jake, deep penetration, unprotected sex, implied breeding, choking, hair pulling, suffocation, cock warming, crying, begging, hate sex, hitting (m receiving), squirting

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The next morning, you were late waking up to log into your work account but Jake was still there, drowsy and smiling at you from the moment you opened your eyes.

You briefly remember the early morning pouting he gave you, hard against you and lips all over you, and in turn you remember how you made a promise to yourself swiftly after rejecting his needs.

Your face heated up the second he said good morning to you, flustered over the fact that not only do you want him, but you want him to want you like that again, despite your rejection. After all, you let him sleep over, and he didn’t try to take advantage of you despite sporting an intense boner through the majority of it.

He sees the way your eyes check him out upon waking up too, but you stay silent after he gives you his good morning greeting.

“Are you hungry? I can step out and pick up some breakfast so you can work.” He offers, stretching his arms out wide and tapping you to stand up. “I’m staying again today.”

Your eyes widen at him, but the smile on your face betrays that little red flag in your head that has forced you, up to this point, to struggle to give him what he needs.

“I’d like that.” You nod to him, cheeks permanently warmed at the image of your shining boyfriend. “Sorry about last night.” You blurt now, standing up and stretching yourself.

“It’s fine love, it's just hard to keep my hands to myself sometimes.” He says, intensely watching your reaction.

You lend a pause in your stretch at those words, having heard them before when your ex did things that made your body ache for weeks. There is a pull in your gut hearing him say that before you remind yourself that they’re just words. He just really likes you, and he did stop when you told him to.

He is not your ex.

“I wouldn’t have hurt you though,” He continues, seeing you deep in thought in front of him. “If you’d have let me, I mean.”

“Jake I–” You stop yourself, feeling a flood of words on the tip of your tongue. “I know you wouldn’t hurt me.” You confirm, now moving forward to hug against him. “I would have–”

“You would?” His eyes light up, smile brighter than you’ve ever seen before.

“No, I mean,” You stutter in panic, hugging him tighter. “I would have touched you if you asked.”

His eyes go dark instantly, making his smile seem more eerie than anything as you look up at him.

“I’m okay with doing the touching, we can work our way up to the other stuff…maybe? If that’s okay?”

“Oh, baby, that’s more than okay.” He coos out, now losing his appetite for actual food and wanting nothing more than to show you just how good he could really be for you. His arms hug you tightly before releasing you, and he ushers you across the room. “We can talk about this later though, you’re already late, right?”

You nod, feeling a bit better about initially rejecting him and doing just that, moving to the small nook that holds your desk and PC and listening to him slip his shoes on.

“I’m going to grab breakfast, and I’m gonna stop by my place to grab some clothes.”

He leaves before you can answer, which is nice because part of you didn’t want to hear your own voice accepting that.

Accepting that he’s leaving right now, accepting that he’s coming back to stay another night, accepting that you feel perfectly fine with all of this despite your inner demon advising you to run.

You don’t know who you are in this moment, but what you do know is that you’re safe. That’s what’s driving you to act blatantly against what your own brain is telling you.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You’re clinging and Jake is fucking devoted to the feeling of it.

Devoted to the way your fingers, so much smaller than his own, grab him to kiss him. Devoted to the way you kiss the bruise above his brow, and the way you ask him to stay for another night, and another, and another, up until he finds himself doing his and your laundry together just so he doesn’t have to go back home to grab more clothes to rotate through.

It’s been a week since he’s been in your apartment, rolling around on your bed with you in it, cleaning himself in your shower, washing himself with your soap. It’s like only the two of you exist in this space, where he is the only one to step out and see the sun, solely so you don’t have to.

Or, solely so you can’t. He doesn’t think he’d let you at this point, now that you’re his and you prove it with each kiss and hug. All you need to do is sit and look pretty, sit and love him. That’s what your purpose is in this relationship, he will do the rest.

Given, he’s also fucked his fist each second he can get in your bathroom. But goddamn do you cling. You whine when he separates himself from you even for a moment, and day by day he can see you come closer and closer to fulfilling his need to be loved by you entirely.

Your phone hasn’t received any unsavory messages you’ve noticed as well, they haven’t needed you to come into the office, and all you can manage to think is that…you’re in love with being in this apartment with him.

Only good things happen when Jake is with you and you’re growing so attached that you’ve thought more than once to just move him in with you. Your mother would scold you, your ex would kill you, and arguably, Jake would absolutely do it.

He waits on you hand and foot. Cooking, cleaning, doing your laundry, holding you and giving you some of the best sleep you’ve had in years. You refrain from considering it seriously though, because this relationship is still so new. You don’t want to freak him out or cause an uproar in your already fucked up and unsteady life. You’re throwing yourself in like you always do, but…is it so bad when he’s doing the exact same thing?

Until he’s not, anyway.

“Love,” Jake starts, tapping his chin with the tips of his fingers as he lounges on your bed. “I need to go home today.”

Your heart immediately sinks.

“What? Why?” You ask in a voice that plainly shows your panic.

“Well,” He taps on his chin again before moving his hand through his hair. “I’m pretty sure my mailbox is probably full by now, I need to clean out my fridge, and I should probably check my course work.”

“You’re…in college?”

Jake nods with a snicker, laughing at how he’s given up his entire life for you.

“Yeah, probably won’t be soon though.” He laughs, shaking his hair out and then looking at you with big, rounded eyes. “Just for the day, I’ll be back before sunset.”

You look down in a disappointed way before nodding to him.

“Aww, babe. Don’t be like that–” He mock pouts as he turns to you, grabbing both of your cheeks and squishing them up, forcing your lips to pucker before landing a harsh kiss against them. “I’m coming right back, I promise.”

You nod again, unable to keep a smile from forming on your face.

“You’re so cute, it’s going to kill me one of these days.” He smiles back at you, hopping up and preparing himself to head back to his apartment.

What you don’t know is that, while Jake wasn’t lying and that he should at least clean out his fridge, he needed to go home.

He needs to unload the footage onto his computer, he needs to watch it back, he needs to fuck something.

And so, he does just that.

The second he gets back to his apartment, it’s almost uncomfortable. Unfamiliar scents, no warmth, rotting food in the fridge, neglected pillows and bed sheets.

Even so, it’s like he acts on instinct when he walks past everything he needs to do and lands himself at the window. His mind takes over in an instant.

It felt like so long ago when he first saw you from here, knowing you were the most beautiful, the perfect girl for him. Knowing you would love him too, and that you’d never want to leave him. He smiles at his victory, knowing that you’re sitting in that apartment right now thinking about him too. If he knew where he would be now, he thinks his former self may have very well fucked himself to death. After all, he’s felt you, tasted you, and even seen parts of you based on the little image he sent to himself from your phone. Everything happened better than he knew it would.

If it weren’t for your ex, perhaps you wouldn’t have let him stay with you in your apartment. Perhaps you wouldn’t have clinged to him so immediately.

In a way, he almost wants to thank the man before he eventually strangles the life out of him.

He’s tasted almost all of you by this point, and each moment it happened is trapped within the files of that little camera there. All of it, for him to remember. Each kiss and makeout session he made sure happened in the view of this camera, and so badly does he want to watch over and over again the moments where you gave in to him. The moments where you needed him.

He’s quick to push the camera to his pc, uploading a weeks worth of files before placing it back onto the window sill and immediately shoving his hand down his pants.

Jake shivers at the first unrestricted graze of his hand against his cock, eyebrows falling into that of probably one of the most pathetic faces he could ever make in his life. The relief is so good, so painful.

He can’t fucking help it. After jerking off multiple times a day before finding himself in your apartment with you, it’s hard to only do it once a day within a short time span of a few minutes. He felt so restricted in terms of his release, and he has so much cum to give right now. He’s aching for it. He wants to bleed it dry.

He wants you so bad at this point, seeing you dangle yourself in front of him and not yet give in to at least going down on him– he needs this. He needs it now.

Even if it’s not you touching him, he needs to release before he takes it from you. Before he does something stupid and makes you hate him forever. Before he really does become your ex. It felt like he was going insane in your apartment, surrounded by you, only wanting to fuck you, and still not getting to.

God, the footage is so grainy but it hits his cock so fucking fast. He memorized each moment as it happened, and now watching it in third person makes him feel as if he’s some sort of ghost. Like he’s having an out of body experience and can see and feel you in a completely different light.

In more ways than he already has, even.

He releases within thirty seconds, barely holding his cock when he doubles over at the footage of that very first, harsh kiss you gave him. Sensitive and twitching, his raging length spilled all in his pants, drenches them through even, as his body shakes with the need for more.

And as if it never happened, he takes a firmer hold of his cock now, fast forwarding the footage to each and every kiss, wondering how good those lips of yours would feel elsewhere on his body. How pretty your moans would sound for him, how cute your hand looked gripping your tit in that little nude of yours, how–

He comes again, forcing him to let out a choked sob and drop his head to his desk. God, it hurts. He’s so sensitive, and still, he wants you so bad. His dick is still raging, aching, and begging, especially when he thinks of how you’ve been clinging. How your hands have fucked yourself, and how badly he wants them to stay on him forever.

God he wishes your fingers could slice him open, leaving painful and love-filled reminders of not who you belong to, but of who he belongs to.

When he thinks of how he’s only doing this right now because you have your claws buried into him already, almost refusing to let him leave you, he knows he could come another four or five times within the next thirty minutes solely because you cling, and cling, and fucking cling. Fuck..

That’s so hot to him.

He’d let you cage him up in a heartbeat, he’d let you fuck his entire life up and then laugh at him for it. It’s what you deserve. To have a man willing to do anything for you, someone willing to give up everything just to hear you breathe, to have him be that person.

Third release, forcing him to hold his breath to the point of feeling faint.

The veins on his neck protrude, sweat now dripping down his brow.

It hurts, it hurts, it fucking hurts.

But it doesn’t hurt enough.

And all day he does this. Until the sun is telling him that he needs to go back to you, until his hair is drenched in sweat and his arm is sore. Until his body feels weak and his cock feels spent, raw, and still throbbing for more.

It hurts when he puts on a new pair of pants, hurts even more when he forces himself to squat in front of his fridge to clean it out, opting to toss everything into a bag rather than sifting through what’s good and what isn’t.

Now more than ever does he want you against him, knowing that he’s fucked himself half to death solely to keep himself from scaring you, and still he isn’t satisfied.

At this point, nothing will satisfy him but you. He knows this now.

He’s quick to lock up, even quicker to toss his trash, and finds himself inside of your lobby at a loss.

Goddamn his libido. Goddamn this love for you.

He can’t stop wanting you, and he can’t just fuck the need away himself at this point. He needs you to fuck his brain quiet, only you can satiate this horrifyingly deep hunger.

Waiting, watching, waiting, waiting, waiting.

He’s waited enough. He’s done waiting.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake appears at your door right on time, and you were expecting to see his smiling face and big stretched out arms to greet you as you open the door for him.

You didn’t get that though. In fact, you found yourself frozen with the door half open as you stared at your boyfriend and the way his terrifyingly small pupils looked back at you before instantly growing twice the size. So different from this morning, heaving, lips shaking, eyes darker than they’ve ever been.

Before you can even ask why he’s looking at you like that, you learn exactly why.

“I’m going fucking insane.” Jake says shortly in a hot whisper, stepping forward and slamming the door behind him. You feel his hands on you instantly, slipping under your shirt and grabbing your waist tightly. “Can’t be away from you, can’t be with you, I can’t stand it.”

You just listen, feeling him walk you into the living room, fluttering his lips all over your face and neck, only to press you up and against the window with his entire body pinning you there with a slam.

You’re shocked, unable to do anything but listen to him and feel the way his hands grip and search your entire body for something to hold onto.

“All fucking day,” Jake seethes out angrily, pulling back from you and grabbing your face to turn it. Almost pissed that you simply exist in front of him right now. “Right there.” He says, pointing directly to his apartment. “I sat right there trying to deal with this.” He presses his hips against you, letting you feel exactly what he’s talking about. “And still, I need more.”

Your brain goes numb. Or maybe it goes hot, you’re not sure. You’ve only recently realized that he turns you on beyond belief, it’s difficult to decipher the difference between horniness and fear right now.

“Jake–” You turn back to him, now using your own hands to grab his face, forcing his eyes to steady and look at you, as if to bring him back to reality. “Do you need–”

He cuts you off with a harsh kiss, hands running up just to press you harder against the window, his hips chasing whatever he can get from you. Like he’s using you in this moment, as if you’re not real and simply a doll for him to release against and inside of.

He’s fucking gone. Outside of himself, and you, and the universe as a whole.

“What I need,” He says, pulling back and stating in an almost demanding tone. “Is for you to take care of me.”

You knew this would come sooner or later, and you’d been trying to work up the courage to do it. You’ve run his patience dry, and you guess it’s now or never at this point.

“Just tell me.” You whisper submissively, wanting to give him whatever he needs solely so that he won’t leave you.

You see his expression soften within a split second, his hips release their pressure against you, and he pulls his hands back.

“Fuck.” He lets out apologetically, demeaning himself for losing his control and being so blatant. Pointing out his fucking apartment to you. “Baby, I’m sorry, I–”

You’ve already made your decision, understanding exactly why your boyfriend broke his composure. This past week proved enough to you that he wasn’t in it to fuck you, and even though his needs weren’t being met, he still worked hard to meet yours, you feel…

Yeah, you’re happy he did this. Even the force didn’t scare you entirely. The only thing that scares you is him leaving you over this. And he watches as you do it, sinking to your knees and reaching out to hook your fingers into the loops on his pants.

“Baby,” He warns you, feeling you pull him straight to you. “Wait, wait.”

You don’t, knowing that if you were to stop now you might end up talking yourself out of doing this again.

“No,” You shake your head, lifting on your knees just to rub your cheek against the length in his pants. “Let me take care of you, I’ve neglected you enough.”

God, he fucking buckles. Dropping right to his knees in front of you, pulling you in by the face, and kissing you as hard as he possibly can. His entire body quivers, bursting in a euphoric sense of arousal as the hairs rise on his body at the very image of you on your knees for him.

“You’re so good to me,” He mumbles through kissing you. “So, so good to me.”

And you just let yourself feel it. Intensely, to the point that even your stomach flips at knowing what’s about to happen.

Strangely enough, it flips in a good way. You haven’t felt like this in years, and it brings so much glee to you knowing that Jake is right here, willing to let you make him feel good. Willing to let you feel these things again, willing to make you feel good if you work up the courage to ask for it. And most of all, he’s staying.

“Stand up then.” You whisper in a smile. “I’ll take care of you, so don’t run back home to do it yourself anymore.”

Jake shakes his head with a smirk, happy to get what he not only wants at this moment, but what he so desperately needs.

“I did that for you, and look where it got me.” He says, standing and staring down at you. “Nothing will ever satisfy me, only you can.”

You chuckle shyly, reaching up to fumble with his button only to have him take over for you, dropping his pants and gripping himself.

“Don’t be so sure though.” You swallow around a lump in your throat at the size of him, proving why you were always able to feel it and not quite ignore it. “I don’t have a lot of practice with this.”

Oh, could you be any more perfect? Any more fucking endearing? With those pretty eyes staring down what he wants to put in you so bad, not even knowing how he’s only ever gotten this hard for you and you alone. Fuck, he could give it to you so good, he could fill you until you can’t breathe, he could keep you forever.

You look so pretty like this, with your lips trembling as you wet them, with the way your smaller hands swat him away as if to ask him to let you try and hold it yourself.

He could shoot his load right now if you asked him to, looking so fucking docile on the floor for him. He needs to look away, he needs to prepare for this.

“I don’t know if I can, um,” You start, gripping him and noting that he’s thick, there’s no way it will all fit in your mouth without absolutely suffocating you. “Jake, I genuinely don’t know if I can fit all of it.”

He lends you a short chuckle as he takes in a breath, his fingers going down to tip your chin up at him. You feel it pulse in your hand as he looks at you, almost feeling his quickened heartbeat through the vein that runs up the underside of it.

“Love, I don’t need it to fit.” He smiles, pressing it harder into your palm. “Even this is enough right now.” He lies, pressing his hips forward as if to show you that he’s lying.

He needs it to fit so bad.

You eye him down, feeling the twitch release a little dribble of precum that rolls down and onto your circled fist. It’s been a long time since you’ve looked at another person this way, wanting to taste it, almost needing to.

Rubbing your legs together, almost uncomfortably, you swallow again as you keep your eyes trained on his before glancing back down. You pull your hands back just to see the way it drops. God, it’s so heavy. You can imagine he’s full of resentment for how long it’s taken you to simply look at it. His cock rages at you, darkened in color and glistening in the light of the setting sun through the window.

All you can do is stare.

And all Jake can do is stare too, watching you do math in your head of what you need to do with him. He’d take anything, fucking anything, from you right now.

“Mm,” Jake hums for a moment, grabbing your hand and squeezing it tighter. “Like this.” He instructs.

“I know how to give a hand job, you know.” You roll your eyes playfully, despite totally forgetting how to do it now that, you know, you want to.

“Yeah, don’t tell me that.” He warns, annoyed that you’d even say that right now. “Just, grip me harder–” He closes his eyes, pretending that you’ve never touched a cock that wasn’t his own, noting how your hands have always been gentle with him, save for that day you dragged him around by the shirt in a kiss.

You listen, trying to grip the girth of it as tightly as you can while dragging your hand forward and back, forcing little grunts out of him.

“Yeah,baby–” he encourages you, “Just like that.” He continues to lose himself to the feeling in soft moans, blinking down and now moving his hips in your grasp, fucking forward a bit harder. “Use your other hand too..”

You listen intently, never having to use both hands on a man like this before. You try to squeeze him, offering as much pressure as you can as he swivels his hips forward and back, slicking your hands up nice and wet with his precum. Unbelievable how much he has, actually.

You look up when he lolls his head back in a drawn out moan, staring at the expanse of his neck and the way it tenses when he swallows around the same moan. And then, suddenly, in a split second he hangs his head back down and looks at you as if he can see everything you are, everything you ever have been, and everything you ever could be. You gasp at his expression, feeling totally lost and in awe when you see that gaze go dead as he stares back.

His lips fall slack when his hips pick up pace, essentially fucking your fists rather than letting you do the work. And when you glance away from him, tuning in to the consistent pre-cum spilling out of him, he sees you lick your lips.

He watches, he sees you want it.

So, very gently, he places one of his hands on the back of your head, encouraging you to do it. And it’s like he can taste colors when you let him and instantly wrap your lips around the big, swollen head of his leaking length.

The half-moan-half-amazed-chuckle that falls out of him only comes from the fact that you instantly stretch your lips around it, lapping at his tip in an almost hungry way.

“God, fuck–” He keeps his head hanging forward, watching intently as you take him further and further into your mouth, up until you release one hand and grasp his thigh to hold onto. “I’ve dreamed of this.” He admits, shocked that you’re really going to do this for him.

You blink up at him, trying to smile around the heavy length pressing your tongue down. If you’re going to do this, the least you can do is make sure he fucking loves it. Not to mention, the fact that you’re also enjoying it only drives you to do more. Like the wall inside of you has been shattered and nothing could ever stop you from wanting him in any and every way possible.

He smiles through a deep groan at the way your lips still curl around him.

Never in his fucking life did he imagine you smiling while sliding his cock down your throat. Really, you did that entirely on your own and somehow, he feels even more insane than he did walking into your apartment earlier.

You’re making it fit, and all he can do is help you, now bracing that same hand on your head and pressing further into your mouth..

More, more.

And when he feels your fingernails dig into his thigh and his cock hit the back of your gagging throat, he chokes out, eyes tearing up, and he sobs out your name in a desperate attempt to compliment you for it.

That sound alone from him went straight through you, igniting a long awaited arousal within your belly. You feel the drip, relishing in the feeling of being wet for the first time in fucking years. He’s so big, and he’s so suffocating. You want to do this, you want to hear him cry out your name again.

Even when he tries to pull his hips back, you grab onto him and hold his hips in place, pushing your lips further down, depressing your tongue even more as the thickest part of him cuts off your airways. Your throat restricts around him, and you feel proud of it. Proud of choking on him, happy to keep doing it.

He stutters in awe, gripping the windowsill with his free hand and using the other to feel your hollowed out cheeks. Shit, you’re going to taste him, he’s going to give you all of it, he’s going to–

Shocked, floored, entirely drunk for you, all he can do is watch as you choke. His body did not warn him at all when his cum shoots into your throat, warming your belly with that first swallow around him.

Your reaction to it is immediate though, as he watches with half-crossed eyes the way you pull off of him and let his cum spurt out and drip all over your face. Down those beautiful cheeks, onto your plush lips, and down your neck.

It won't stop. He just keeps coming. His entire body trembles as he stares at you, and you stare back before closing one eye due to the fact that there is now cum in your eyelashes, and you fucking smile at him.

The image alone keeps him hard as his body finally stops twitching. You, there on your knees, smiling up at him drenched in him.

“Baby,” He soothes out with a raspy tone. “Fuck, you didn’t have to do–”

“I’m wet. Jake.” You smile, as if you’re admitting this to him to gain some sort of congratulations for it. And in a way, you are. He has no idea how amazing it is to you right now that you can feel your panties go sticky. It feels amazing to admit to him, actually.

It’s so relieving, it’s so warm, it’s something you never should have missed out on in the first place.

“What?” He asks with uneven breath, dropping to his knees in front of you again, rubbing the cum into your skin with his thumb as he caresses your face. “You are?”

You beam at him, smiling with a nod.

“Really?” He asks again, in disbelief because this was all it took?

You nod again, leaning back on your arms and watching him follow, hovering over you and slotting himself between your legs with a hungry gaze.

“Can I feel?” He asks abruptly, crawling over you to the point that your back hits the side table behind you, keeping you from lying all the way down.

And you nod before you think about it. Wondering if this is how it’s always supposed to be. Always willing, always wanting, always needing.

He stares at you when you nod, glancing down to your middle then back at you as if to gain another confirmation.

You nod again, this time wanting to hide your face in your arms. You anticipate it, wondering what it’ll feel like to be touched there again by a hand that isn’t your own after all this time. And when you feel his shaking hand dip into your sweat pants, you don’t even shutter. You don’t shy away.

You’re surprising yourself even, letting out a gasp when he cups your core and looks down at you with a cautious smile.

“You’re dripping, baby.” He smiles as he balances himself on one arm over you, rubbing his hand back and forth and memorizing the dips and folds he can feel through this flimsy fabric. Then, his more intrusive thoughts spill in an unintentional and needy groan. “Fuck, I bet you’re so tight.”

Words that would make you recoil are no longer scaring you. You can tell he wants to apologize for saying it too, but goddamn, you loved hearing it. In fact, your entire body pulses at the words, feeling his hand do nothing more than hold you there and gently rub. His eyes are pleading though, with his lips pouting as he relishes in thoughts of probably fucking his fingers into you just to see if he’s right.

Or maybe it’s just you hoping that’s what he’s thinking about. You can’t help the way you clench, letting out a strained breath as you lurch forward and hug him around his neck, squeezing so tightly as you whisper against the shell of his ear.

“You can touch me– if you want.” You whisper, physically feeling the goosebumps against his neck raise to your lips. “Just go slow.”

You still need to go slow, after all, you don’t know how your brain may react to this, despite loving it at the moment. Relishing in the fact that someone managed to make you feel horny again. You feared that you never could again. God, he’s amazing.

“I’ll go so slow for you,” He whispers back, twisting his hand in your pants to hook his fingers around your panties to pull them to the side. “Oh, baby, you really do want this, don’t you?” He whispers again upon really feeling you drip, trying to slide his fingers through the slick mess before rubbing circles around your hole. He’s lost his train of thought now, only able to feel one sense at a time so that he can fucking memorize how you coat his fingers entirely.

He moans again from deep in his chest along with you, despite knowing you’re the only one feeling the pleasure of his fingers. You feel his moan vibrate through his throat when you kiss him there, anticipating what it’s going to feel like when he slides a finger in.

And it’s like you see stars when he does, slowly pressing one into you as he wraps his other arm around your waist to hold you in place, sitting back on his knees and forcing you to stand on your own infront of him.

There he holds you as if he’s afraid you’ll start to fight, relishing the feeling of your wet walls hugging his finger all while you cling to him through it. He was right, you are tight despite how wet you’ve gotten. It’s almost like you’re a virgin despite knowing that you’re not.

Your body is reacting this way for him, and you’re hugging him, and your pussy is clenching for him. He just knows that if he manages to fit his cock into you, he’d fucking lose it. You’d squeeze him so tight, and he’d fuck it so deep. Fill you up, deeper, deeper, until the only name you know is his.

He’s losing it again, hearing your little whispered moans against his ear, hanging on him like a fucking pet, god, he wants you to squeeze the fucking blood out of him. You’re being so compliant, so submissive, so–

“Do you even know…” He starts babbling, trying to silence his thoughts by giving them straight to you as his finger slides out, eagerly shoving two back in at a much quicker, much harsher pace. “How much I’ve dreamed about this?”

You shake your head noting how he’s already mentioned dreaming of you once. The thought has you spreading your legs out to feel how deep his fingers reach inside of you. There’s no pain involved in this, despite his pace not being nearly as slow as he said he would go. You’re not upset, you want him to go faster, you want him deeper, you want to hear him talk.

“So many times, baby, so many times.” He soothes himself more than you through these words, losing himself more and more each second to the feeling of your core clenching his fingers. “You’re even prettier to me right now,” He continues to babble, listening to you hum in his ear at the pleasure you feel. “I want you to take everything from me.”

“I want you to wrap your legs around my neck, I want you to rub my nose in it, I want you to suffocate me, I want—”

“Shit, Jake.” You moan out his name for the first time at the dirty words. They’re a lot to take in only because you know it truly is a lot, or rather, it should be. But you fucking want that too. You want everything from him, you want everything he wants. Everything. “What else?” You urge him to keep talking.

“I want you to pull my hair,” He says, instantly feeling your fingers slide up his neck and into the thick of it, tugging immediately. “I want you to make it fit here too.” He continues, curling his fingers inside of you, thrusting his own hips against the dense air in your apartment.

You moan again at his hot words. You’re overwhelmed by how much you want more, how much you’d let him, right here, right now.

“Keep going,” You sing out, feeling it in your stomach and knowing that this familiar feeling is so much better than you’ve ever felt before. “Tell me, Jakey, fuck–” You continue, huffing at the way his fingers quicken even more.

“Sound so pretty saying my name, fuck,” He groans now, more level than before as he feels your legs close around his arm, fingers relentlessly hitting the soft spot inside of you. “Tell me that I’d never hurt you, that only I can make you feel like this.”

You nod aggressively as your brain hits a wall, unable to fulfill his request. Every muscle in your body tenses in pleasure as you begin to shake, moving your own hips against his fingers and tugging his hair harder without intention.

He moans out at how tight you hold him, wanting nothing more than to lay you out and bury himself into you, to feel your pussy jerk him off.

“Feels so good, baby, right?” He continues to talk, feeling your tight walls try to push his fingers out with each threat of your build up, his mind is spinning. “Say it–” He stutters, feeling his own body react the same way yours is. “Fuck, please, say that you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.” You whisper out of breath against his ear, the hot breath sending him overboard as he immediately pulls his fingers from you and grips his cock instead, ignoring your whimper of the lost build up.

“Yeah,” He cries out, thrusting his hips against his hand. “So let me– please, please let me.”

His face looks so broken when you stare at him in shock, eyes pleading for you to give him all of it. To give him everything right now. How could you fucking say no to that expression? How could you ever say no to him?

And still, with your orgasm half-fulfilled, you’re entirely enamored with the way you instantly want it too. As if you’re rushing head first into a brick wall with him, and you stop just to think for a moment.

Should you?

Do you intend to keep this man forever? Do you want him to leave? Would you be able to picture a day without him?

It confirms in your brain right then and there. You do intend to keep him. You don’t want him to leave. You could never picture a day without him at this point.

If he wants to have sex with you right now? Why not? You’re sure that if he is truly wanting to stay, sooner or later you’ll feel him pumping inside of you. Why should it matter that it happens now rather than tomorrow? Or next week? Or even next month?

Instantly upon your snap decision, you stand on shaking legs, watching him watch you. His hand gripping himself harshly to prevent a pathetic and untouched orgasm, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy.

You smile, dropping your pants, panties, and then lifting your shirt right up and over your head. All he does in response is wince, grip the base of his cock harder, and try to focus on not spilling and wasting his cum on your floor. Brain only slightly trying to distract him with the idea of grabbing those sticky panties to suck them clean.

“Really?” He chokes, out of breath and standing up, swiping your panties up quickly and crumpling them in his hand.

Then, you feel one hand on you after he drops his length, and the other rubbing those same wet panties against your skin, as if he has a death grip on them and you. Still, he walks you right back to the window and against it, speaking in that same, needy and shaking breath. “Baby, are you sure?”

You look away, feeling vulnerable and shy but so willing, so ready when you nod and throw your leg around his waist as if to tell him that you’re more than sure.

He gives you a breathy chuckle, pulling back just to lift his shirt off of him, hang your panties at the base of his cock, and then he grabs your leg and holds it in place. “Right here?”

He can’t tell if he’s even alive right now, with your pussy sitting spread open right up against him as you let him hold you here, your ass is probably looking great for the camera right now. Your panties feel so good in their rightful place, dangling just in front of his balls. You feel so good in your rightful place, right up against the wall with him trapping you here.

You nod again, pressing your hips forward, proving to him how hungry you feel for him right now. Finally feeling dirty and not hating yourself for it.

“Right here.” You confirm, tuned into his lips and leaning forward to lick against them. “That’s what you want, right?”

He’s stunned by how you take control while still being somehow submissive to him about it. Almost like you’re shaming him for wanting it, almost like you don’t want to admit that you want it too.

“Is that what you want?” He asks, trying hard not to think about how you’ve shifted entirely within the span of however long it’s been since the two of you started this. Is this how you act when you're horny?

“How could I not?” You confirm again with a confident tone, watching your boyfriend break in front of you. “Look at you.”

Jake can’t bear to look at himself, he knows he looks just about as pathetic as he’s always wanted. Never quite able to feel pathetic enough to satisfy him, only now understanding why he chased and chased the feeling to have you like this.

Controlling whether he can stick his dick in you, controlling whether he can fuck off and die.

That’s how it’s supposed to be in a relationship, but somehow it’s something else between both of you. For him, it’s like you’ve intentionally edged him for an entire week and for you it’s like you finally have control over your own sexuality again.

You feel powerful, and Jake wants to be entirely at your mercy.

“No one has ever wanted me this bad and waited.” You finally say to his intense and loving stare. “I want to give you anything you want.”

If he had a tail, it would be wagging so fast right now. It’s like he’s being given a treat for being exactly who you needed him to be, and he doesn’t think he’ll ever stop doing it.

“I could wait longer,” Jake mumbles, inching his lips to yours and letting his other hand cup one of your tits. “You could make me suffer,” He continues, whispering it right into your mouth. “Could lock me up and starve me of it.”

You lean your face back, a little shocked at his choice of words there.

“So you meant those things you said earlier?” You ask, remembering how he babbled on about wanting you to suffocate him, about how he wanted you to take everything from him.

“Do you want me to be honest?” He counters, now pressing his hips forward and letting his cock weep against your thigh.

You nod to him.

“I want you to take it all out on me.” He admits, gripping your tit in his hand tighter, hiking your leg up higher. “I want you to control every aspect of my life.”

Honestly, it shouldn’t be a thought that brightens your brain but it does. It sounds toxic, and you can’t even tell if he’s saying this just because he’s horny and is about two seconds from slamming you up and against this window with the force of his cock alone. Somehow, you love the thought of all of it.

“Every aspect?” You ask with interest. “What do you mean?”

He chuckles as he hangs his head, watching his length pulse constantly against your thigh and the panties hanging off of it. Only then does he release your tit and use your panties as a way to position his cock up, lining up with the wet of your core that is only for him.

“It means–” He starts, sliding into you with a paused moan, hiccuping slightly as he furrows his brows. “I want you to make me cry for you.” He continues with a tilt to his head as he watches the way you wince at all of the strength he has to hold you up like this, to slide into you like this. “I want you to hurt me, and I want you to love doing it.”

He bottoms out after that, holding you in place and feeling your walls struggle to adjust to the tight fit.

“It’s what you deserve.” He soothes out to you, kissing you once. “To take someone the same way you’ve been taken.”

You recoil instantly, pussy restricting in horror at the reminder of why you never do this with another person, but god the way he lifts on his toes just to plunge somehow deeper into you. The way his lips trap you even more, the way his force is nothing but fucking amazing to feel. All you can do is moan, bump your head against the window, and squeeze him.

“You said you wanted to give me what I want–” He slides out of you just a little bit. “So, can you?” He pushes back in, listening to you get wetter at his words and feeling your answer when you can’t seem to speak for yourself.

“I said I’d never hurt you, love,” He coos out this time, watching your body shift up against the window as he picks up some sort of rhythm, taking you the way he’s always wanted you. Right here, against the window. “But I never said that you couldn’t hurt me.”

Why the fuck is that so hot? God, why does a man like Jake offer you so much? Why is he doing this to you? Why is he doing it to himself? Why do you love it?

You find yourself nodding as you moan out, still not quite adjusted to his size and the way he made it fit into you in such a…pleasurable way. It doesn’t hurt at all, it feels good.

“Yeah, I knew you would.” He continues to talk as if he’s not internally losing it, but months worth of pretending, several orgasms today alone, and having your pussy hugging him just as tightly as he knew it would? That’s helpful.

And now, as your fingers grip at him through his harsh and deep thrusts, all he can do is hold your leg against him, lean forward, and stare directly into his apartment window. As if he’s mocking his former self, as if everything in the world has fallen into place. You wouldn’t leave him now, never, you’d be just as stupid as everyone else if that were the case.

He has faith in you, in himself, in this, and the way you drip all over him.

He knew you’d be perfect for him.

It doesn’t take long, really, for him to pull an orgasm out of you when he’s doing it this good. In fact, you don’t even have to reach a hand down to help pull it out of you by the time your body begins to stiffen up at it.

His pace is slow, his cock is deep, and fuck his entire body is on you. You couldn’t squeeze your hand down if you tried, in fact, you don’t think he’d even consider letting you do any of this on your own.

His grip is so strong, you can feel your sweat stick to the window as you slam your head down on his shoulder, sliding up and down the window with each of his powerful thrusts.

It feels so good to do this again.

“Jake–” You hiccup against his neck, listening to his heaved and choked breaths through each thrust. “I wish I had done this sooner.” You manage to get out, body tensing and relaxing by the minute with the threat of an orgasm. “I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”

And honestly, you don’t know what’s gotten into you, nor do you fucking care. If you want to cry, you’ll fucking cry. It’s been too long since your tears hit you out of pleasure, or happiness, or fucking safety. At this rate, you’ll never let this man go.

“I know baby, I know.” He soothes you, arms shaking as he holds you up and thrusting in as deep as he can go.

You feel him stutter in his pace, his hips stopping as you feel his heavy cock pulsate against your clenching walls.

“Are you close?” He says, pulling back and looking at you. “Is that why you’re sorry?”

You look at him with glassy eyes, smiling dazed at him as you shake your head.

“No,” You smile wider, running your hands up and into his hair, remembering what he asked for before. You tug, forcing his head to tilt back so that you can attach your lips to him. “I’m saying it because I want you to always make me feel this good.” You whisper against his pulse point, kissing it hard.

You feel him lose composure at that, his hips immediately moving again, slamming up and into you so hard that you can’t even hold your head still enough to kiss him there again.

“Ah, fuck,” He whimpers out, “why would you fucking say that to me right now?” He continues, relentlessly fucking himself against the soft and sensitive spot inside of you. “You still make me feel so insane, only you could do this to me.”

You smile, having learned that he appears to love the torture anyway.

“You love it though, don’t you Jakey?” You say, loving the way he loses it for you, learning how badly he’s wanted this, seeing him intend to stay.

And at those words, he can’t take it anymore. Fuck the camera, fuck anything else in the world that isn’t you. He ignores that wince on your face when he slips out of you, ignores the way the panties fall from his length, and focuses entirely on the way you hug him as he carries you straight to the couch.

Right there, he drops you and watches the way your tits bounce at the motion.

“I’m fucking obsessed with you.” He says, feeling the arousal run through his veins, knowing you’d love to hear him say that while never knowing just how true it is. “How are you real?”

You smile, hiding your face as you feel his hands hold your thighs open. You know what he’s looking at, and you can’t force yourself to see him do it. Solely because you know it’s going to swell your heart so big that you’d only fear the day he wants to leave it empty.

And you don’t respond either, because you can’t. His fingers are spreading you open and you can hear him drop to his knees yet again for you. You wan’t to look so bad, but still, you fear the love in his eyes.

You fear and want all of it.

He hears the sharp inhale you give when he spreads you out, really inspecting the single spot on your body that no one on this earth should ever see aside from him.

“This is where it hurt the most, isn’t it?” He asks, staring into the hole he’s already fucked, watching it beg him for more despite his words that probably stab your soul.

You’ll never understand how he can take your pain and turn it into something you don’t mind hearing though. Yes, that’s where it hurt the most, and still, that’s where you want him the most.

“Yeah, baby?” He asks again, reaching an arm up and forcing you to look at him. “This is what you were so afraid of?” He continues, dipping down and rubbing his face directly into the folds and inhaling a deep breath.

“Y-yeah.” You choke out at the feeling, in awe of how you knew his eyes would make you terrified. He still stares up at you as he does it, pointing his glare straight through you and into your fucking spirit.

Only Jake can make you fear nothing else in this world aside from the thought of losing him.

“I’ll make it better,” He says, boosting his ego at the way your legs wrap around his head. “You’ll always want me here,” He continues, cooing out with each taste and lick of your budding arousal. “You’ll never want me to stop–”

No man has ever wanted you this bad while having you, even as you experienced the trauma of just that. Your ex wanted you physically, but something about the man drying to drown himself in your pussy right now makes you feel like he wants you on a level far deeper than what’s possible.

He’s eating you out like he wants to eat you whole. Like he could devour you, and never spit you out of his mouth.

“Shit, shit–” You moan, hands shooting down to his hair yet again, finding yourself loving the way his grown-out roots feel softer than the harsher dyed section of his hair. You tug harder than you have before, feeling his tongue search and yearn for everything you have to offer him.

“Mhm.” He mumbles with a mouth full of pussy, rolling his eyes back at how you do just as he suggested before. Rubbing his nose in it, letting him continue to lose himself in the point of all of his problems.

And it’s as if you forgot that this only happens to reach a point of coming. The experience alone feels like one long and drawn out orgasm already, it doesn’t take anything at all for him to get you there.

It’s like he already knows it too, because you go entirely silent with a held breath as he holds your hips and buries his tongue deep inside of you. He wants to feel it, he wants to taste it. And he suffers for it, really, neglecting his own cock and knowing he’s going to come through this alone anyway.

As expected, he does. Upon the first gush of your slick hitting his tongue, his cock pulses, his balls squeeze up, and he can feel it shoot out of him each time your pussy shakes against his suffocated mouth.

And your hands, so perfect in his hair, pulling without even knowing. You’re everything he’s ever wanted, this is more than he could have ever asked for.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

By this point in your relationship, the two of you have moved so quickly that it doesn’t even scare you. In fact, if it slowed down at any point, you’d probably be preparing a suicide note simply because you don’t want to be in this world without Jake.

Since the first time you got intimate with him, it’s like it hasn’t stopped. You’re shocked at his thirst for you and even more shocked that someone so fucking perfect would waste his breath on you even for this long.

It hasn’t been that long, really, since the first time you touched him. A few days at most, but it’s like that moment solidified a lot for the two of you.

One, he’s not going to be sleeping in his own bed anytime soon or, ever, really. Two, you’ve learned through at least two more sessions of Jake’s mouth on you that he really does want you to live up to his requests. He makes it known how badly he wants you to make him suffer, how badly he needs you to give him everything he wants. Thankfully, he’s patient with your reluctance. And Three, your ex is no longer a threat.

Each message you receive, you just hand your phone to Jake and he takes care of it.

It doesn’t even translate in your head that you’ve been barred from answering your mother’s calls until the police show up at your door for a wellness check. Where, of course, Jake answers,

“Yeah, she’s here.” You hear his voice as you lay flat against your bed, heaving breaths as if he didn’t just have the tip of his dick in you. “Why?” You hear him question.

A few more muffled words and you hear the door close and his footsteps making his way to your room.

“Cops.” He dead-pans, “Your mom thinks you're dead.” he adds with an eye roll.

Your internal panic, a feeling you had once been so accustomed to that now feels almost foreign, takes over your body.

“Fuck, my mom!” You say in a fast breath, rushing onto your feet and throwing on a pair of his soiled sweatpants.

Jake hangs back but listens to your conversation from your hallway, listening intently to how you speak to other men, cops or not.

“Yeah,” You say, scratching your temple with shame. “I guess I didn’t realize she was calling me so much.”

Try five times a day.

“I’ll call her now, sorry for wasting your time.” You continue with that nervous chuckle that you used to use on him during your dates.

And then you’re back in the room, looking at him with a raised brow.

“Why didn’t you tell me my mom has been calling?” You ask, a little annoyed that it’s gotten to the point of freaking your mother out.

Jake shrugs, then looks at you apologetically.

“I don’t like when she forces you to talk about it.” He finally says, sulking his shoulders and huffing out. “I don’t like that she tells you to be careful around me.”

You roll your eyes, relieved that he’s just being himself and wanting to keep you happy.

“Still, you should have told me. She’s going to have a fucking heart attack thinking he showed up at my work place again.”

Jake’s entire brain stops working, his body going rigid as if the cold air outside is hitting him in full force.

Your eyes immediately widen as you slam your hand over your mouth. Fuck, you forgot that you told her in a hushed tone, explaining that it’s okay. That Jake wouldn’t let anything happen to you.

Fuck.

“He what?” Jake says, dumbfounded at the slip of your words.

“Jake, wait–” You try to get an explanation but he’s not having it.

“You haven’t been at work, what do you mean he showed up?” He glares, chest heaving as his heart rate picks up.

“It was from that day when you first stayed over,” You look at the floor apologetically. “I didn’t want to talk about it…” You trail off, feeling his energy hit you in the face at how he’s completely shifted from that loving, soft boyfriend you’re so used to.

“You kept that from me!?” He seethes out in disbelief. This whole time he thought he fucked your ex up enough to prove what would happen if he even fucking tried it. By you explaining that it happened just after Jake found him, that’s a direct insult.

A threat.

A fucking death wish.

“I didn’t–” You stutter trying to explain yourself. “I didn’t think it would matter since you were here. You were keeping me safe.”

“You lied to me?” He continues interrogating you, coming up to you and practically demanding an answer through his eyes.

You look away, nodding.

“You said you wanted me to keep you safe, what would have happened if you had to go to work again?” He drones on and on, seemingly stuck on the fact that you didn’t tell him. “What would happen if they called you to go in today?”

Already you’re starting to cry, feeling stupid for not making a bigger deal out of it. To be fair, not talking about it helped and you did intend to tell him at some point. That just…never happened.

“I would have asked you to stay with me at work.” You say, feeling numb as the fear of losing the man in front of you steals your every thought. “I’d have not gone. I’d have quit. I don’t know!”

Jake backs down at your words, only able to soften his rage if you’re the one who causes it.

“Baby,” His soft voice shocks you when you feel him come back to himself, as if to comfort the fear he just instilled in you. “I’m not mad.”

Yes he is, you know he is.

“Now you’re the one lying.” You argue, pushing him away only to feel his grip on you tighten.

“Am I?” He asks, urging you to keep talking. “Are you mad at me now?” He continues, intentionally pushing your buttons.

“Mad that I should have already known?”

“Mad that I didn’t let you talk to your mom?”

“Mad that I’m keeping you safe, while you keep putting yourself in the position to be hurt by him again?”

You stare at the floor.

“Mad that this is your fault?”

Yeah, you are mad.

“Fuck you, Jake.” You break, feeling his strangling fingers on your skin scratch and leave welts when you force yourself away from him. “Fuck you for all of that.”

“What else?” He presses, hanging on specific words. “Fuck me for what else?”

You just stare at him, and he can see the anger in your eyes.

“For not being there when it happened?” He asks gently. “For not killing him when I had the chance?”

When he had the chance.

“What do you–” You try to ask, but he just continues, closing back in on you.

Somehow, you need it, despite wanting to pull away every time.

“Fuck me for wanting this from you, right?” He says, much closer to you and dipping down to kiss you. “Fuck me for wanting you to be this mad, hmm?”

You break again, something deep within you spiraling into a different type of insanity you’ve never felt. You don’t feel trauma, you don’t feel scared, you feel…enraged.

“Fuck me for thinking you look perfect,” He whispers against your lips. “Fuck me to fuck me, fuck me to fight me, fuck me.”

The repeated words fit into your brain like they belong there. Like this anger is supposed to be filling you with pleasure rather than dread. Like you’re supposed to feel just as in love as you are mad.

“Just fuck me, baby.”

And god fucking dammit. How does he crawl into the depths of your brain, like a fucking roach, and kiss all of the areas you don’t know exist? How the fuck does he wake shit up inside of you that you never dreamed of having, or feeling, or wanting.

“I hate you.” You say, and meaning it too.

Because you don’t think you’ve ever loved someone more than you do now.

“Yeah, I bet you do.” He smiles, dipping his hand down into the sweats you put on and sliding into the same slick he had spilling out of you just before the pigs showed up. “I love it.” He chuckles against your lips when you refuse to moan at his touch.

You’re pushing against every good feeling inside of you right now, thinking only of how this rage spills out of you and against his fingers.

“So wet to hate me–” He says, pressing and pressing and pressing for you to just fucking– “Hit me.”

He sees your eyes shine at the very thought of how badly you must want to do that, unknowing of how much he wants it too. Needing it almost.

And oh, the moan he lets out when your weak hands raise to shove him back. He plays off of it, stumbling back to your bed just to fall on it. Waiting, knowing you’ll come take him for all he’s worth.

“Come on, love.” He encourages you. “Make me sorry.”

You hate him, and you hate that you love it. Love that he loves it, fucking adore that he wants this, he wants to let you do whatever you want to him.

To kick, cry, scream, release everything that’s been trapped in your head for years.

You don’t even falter, feeling it bubble up and overtake every thought. Dripping down your legs as if this is the only way you could ever fulfill your own pleasure again. Only now to you slide the pants back off of you, so horny out of your mind that all you can manage is to feel these emotions drip for him.

He watches you straddle him bare from the waist down, sees your breath shaking, and your lips quivering.

Jake knew you had it in you.

“Take them off.” You demand, rolling your eyes at the way he looks up at you with pure bliss.

“Hit me first.” He offers, feeling his cock strained against his own pants that he haphazardly threw on when he heard the knock at your door. “Hit me, and I’ll fuck the hate out of you.” He lies.

“Take them off.” You repeat, cold hands reaching down as you do it yourself, lifting just enough to shove them down far enough.

And god, the breath is knocked clean out of him with the way you just take him. You slide down perfectly, bottoming him out in one motion. He can see now that you need this perhaps even more than he does.

“God, come on baby.” He moans, feeling you just sit still on him.

“Jake,” You warn, running your cold hands up to his neck on instinct. “Shut up.” You squeeze.

The smile that forms on his face is pornographic at best, and drunk at worst. You see him love every instant of it, and you don’t want to admit that you do too.

You didn’t know it would feel so good to have a man’s neck in your hands, squeezing it just to shut him up. Releasing it just to hear him gasp out a praise.

“So good,” He praises, eyebrows knitted together as he loses himself to the way your pussy chokes his length. You’re not even fucking him, you’re just– “So perfect.” He continues, nearly wailing out at the immense love he feels inside.

And then, you do. You hit him. Power hungry and entirely at a loss for your own pleasure, you land a harsh and loud slap right against his face, only for him to moan louder.

Only for him to fuck up.

Only for him to grip your sheets so tight that you hear a rip.

Again. You slap him, feeling your anger slowly fizzle with each frantic moan he gives back.

Again, and again.

“Shit, you love that, don’t you?” He manages to say, feeling his cheeks sting with red-hot passion, only to be hit again, and again. “God, make it hurt.”

At this point, you know that you could never give him enough as the rage leaves your body entirely and it’s replaced with nothing but the need to just….fuck him. Never in your life have you ever been blinded by a need so badly, save for safety.

And you have that now, don’t you? You have Jake now, right where you want him, right he wants to be. He wants you to feel this, he made you feel this.

The first bounce felt like pure agony, slamming his cock into you by your own force, feeling him stretch you open, hearing it slap and echo against the walls.

“Make it hurt?” You finally say, pinching his cheeks together and forcing him to look at you. “I don’t think I could hurt you enough if I tried.” You admit, quite truthfully, mind you.

Jake gives you a crooked smirk.

“Try it anyway.” He coos, feeling the way you repeatedly arch your back just to ride him faster. “Could fill you up, right here, right now, flip you over and make you take it if you’re so worried that you can’t.”

It runs through you like a cold shiver. You don’t want to give up this power, you want to try.

“That’s big talk for someone asking to be choked right now.” You dead-pan at him, voice even and calm. You continue to move your hips, listening to his repeated moans with each breath. “So loud and needy for it too.”

Jake nods proudly and drunkenly, reaching his hands out to yours and forcing them back on his neck.

“I could be needier.” He says, pressing your hands against his airways.

You take over for him, choking his remaining words out of him and forcing him to moan.

“You said you’d make me take it?” You seethe out through your own pained moan, riding him so hard that you feel sensitive. “Like you think it would hurt me?”

He shakes his head rapidly, implying that you’re wrong to think that. Wanting to tell you that if he made you take it, you’d love every second of it. You wouldn’t tell him no.

“After promising you never would, Jake?” You question still, knowing he can’t answer. You squeeze harder as you watch his face darken, the blood rushing to burst in the whites of his eyes. “Is that it? You want to hurt me so that I hurt you back?”

He nods in a daze, wanting nothing more than to die like this now, or some other day. To hear your voice, feel your hands, and know that you’re fucking him through it.

“You don’t scare me.” You finally say, releasing the grasp and listening to the sharp inhale he takes in. “As much as I wish you did, you don’t.”

That’s all it takes really, knowing that he could work you like a puppet and you’d still love him. Why else would you say that? You wouldn’t fuck him like this if you didn’t mean it. Your mother long forgotten, the anger gone, it’s just a raw form of you and him right now.

Everything you’re saying is more truthful than he ever thinks you’ve been with him.

“Want me to?” He finally asks with a wet gasp as he continues to catch his breath. “I bet I could.”

“You can’t.” You say, now slowing your hips as your legs tire out, bracing yourself on his shoulders to take a breath.

“I can.” He says, immediately overpowering you. He sits up quick, flipping you right over and onto your back. “I can make you feel anything I want.” He whispers darkly to you. He grabs your legs and pushes them to your chest, lost entirely from this reality. “Anything you want.”

You just stare up at him, willing to accept his words even more when he slams his length into you, so deep that you feel nothing but the pain of it.

For the first time, he’s hurting you through pleasure alone.

“Could make you love it too,” He continues to dote on himself as he watches the sparkle in your eye dim. “You love it already, don’t you?”

“I’m not afraid.” You manage to mutter out through a guttural groan, wincing at the way he drives himself into you at such a speed that all you feel is pain.

“I can’t take you seriously when you talk like that.” He chuckles, feeling entirely in control of whatever entity is running his body right now. “I see you baby, you’re terrified to lose me.”

Your eyes die in that moment, because out of anything in this world, he’s pinpointed your biggest fear.

“So pretty when you’re scared too,” He hums out, not relenting at all with the force of his hips when he lets your legs fall around him, and he finds himself burying his face between your tits. “Maybe I should threaten to leave you.”

Instantly, you cry.

“Just so I can eat up these little tears you have for me.”

You wish he would shut up.

“So I can taste the way you come on me, and feel your pussy try and lock me here.” He smooths over your nipple at the words, slowing his hips and pulling out just to the tip. “Your body tells me more than you know, love.”

Your eyes roll up when his pointed thrust shoves your body across your sheets, your hands reach for his shoulders, clawing for any sense of normality to this moment.

“So quiet.” He lightens his own voice now, letting it fall against your collarbone in a tone just above a whisper. “So stubborn.”

Your mind awakens at the insult, hoping he’s right.

“To think I’d ever leave you.” He smiles, lifting up to meet your lips. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He tastes your tears and it’s just enough for him to forgive you.

To forgive you for not hitting him enough, for not choking him until he died. To forgive you for even thinking you’d need to talk to your mother, and for fucking lying to him.

And only now does he go quiet, fucking you will full intent now that he’s already in your head at every turn and corner. He can tell with the way you don’t even realize your previous orgasm.

With the way it bubbled out and down his balls, hugging his cock so tightly that all he could do was keep fucking with your mind, toying with threats only to silence them.

And then, you inhale a sob, and breathe out his name, so pretty to your ears, even more beautiful to his own.

“Don’t leave me.” You chime out, body numb and emotions threatening you into a panic attack.

“I’m right here, love.” He chuckles. “You’re shaking.”

You are. More than you can even comprehend, your body is shaking from feeling everything and nothing at once, all the way up until you do feel something.

“Ah, shit.” You cry out, hugging his body so tightly against you. “Right there–”

And Jake does it, angling his hips to repeatedly hit the spot inside of you. Knowing you’re sensitive, knowing you can take it, knowing that he can’t when he feels every drop in your body push him out of you.

Instantly he plunges back in, listening to the wet sounds of all that love you must have for him. He can barely move in this suffocating hug as your body shakes and quivers more than it ever has, even through your past traumas, even through the cold nights this city offers.

He has spent you and fucked you dry.

“There she is,” He echoes into your ear. “The girl of my dreams.”

The only energy left in you is enough to give him a smile before your tunnel vision fades into nothingness.

It feels calm in the darkness he gives you, and even calmer when you wake up feeling as if all of this was a dream.

It wasn’t though, because you can feel the way you’re still leaking all over your bed. Your own slick mixed with his, and you don’t even remember when or how he orgasmed because he certainly was taking his time before you initially fainted, but you’re glad he did. You think he is too, with the way he clings to you like a puppy, as if he didn’t just fuck reality straight out of you.

Lending you the gift of floating, and of pain you find yourself to love.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Waking up the next morning felt like you were a new person and you couldn’t be happier to see the saddest version of you die. The only fear you need to have is that Jake may some day choose to leave, and he said himself that he never would.

You trust him more than anyone, more than yourself even, considering he’s managed to force you into facing so many versions of yourself that you didn’t even know you had.

This is the first morning you’ve woken up without your skin crawling and you can’t help but shake him awake, destroying that blushed and sleeping face of his.

“Jake,” You shake him, feeling him stir instantly and lend you a crooked smile. “Wake up.”

You listen to his morning stretch as his body vibrates in a yawn, and then he’s nuzzling his face even further into your naked chest.

For what feels like hours, you find yourself engaging in pillow talk. Logging into work? Long forgotten. Calling your mother? Forgotten. The pain in your body? Ignored.

You tell him everything. Every detail of your life, your first memory, your first laugh and cry. All of the times your heart has been shattered, your least favorite colors and favorite words in the world. And he just…listens.

He nods, he smiles, he coos and kisses you throughout all of it.

And then–

“You know, a while back before we met, I came home and noticed some of my things were missing and messed with. I can’t help but feel like he’s known where I’ve been this whole time.”

Jake stiffens in your grasp before relaxing. It happened so fast that you don’t think anyone but you would have noticed it.

“Some of my panties were gone, and the batteries in my toys went missing weeks ago–not that it matters now or anything.” You continue, watching his face intently. “ At first I thought that maybe I was just forgetful but– now i know that it really was him.” You pause, smiling at him. “I’m just kind of waiting now, wondering if he’s ever going to try and do it again.”

“Do you want me to kill him?” Jake chuckles out as if to offer a funny little solution, one that he has genuinely considered more times than he can count. And he should have already, honestly.

You feel warmer at the way he makes jokes, but you know better than anyone that Jake jumps into action driven only by rage at times.

“He won’t come near you again, love, haven’t I proved that to you already?” He continues, imagining the blood of his man on his fists again. Imagining the way his bones would crack so beautifully.

You nod in an almost shy way to him.

“You’re safe with me.” He says, wrapping his arms around himself as you cradle him. “You’re safe with me.” He continues, repeating it more to himself because he feels as though he can’t fail you again, “You’ve always been safe.”

You haven’t believed words so deeply until you met him.

“He already fucking knows–” He whispers shortly, cutting himself off. “I’ll kill him.” He whispers a bit louder, uncaring if you heard that first slip of his words.

Something in your brain floods at those words. A confirmation that you’ve seen him break before, and it wasn’t your imagination. Your protective, loving, and sweet boyfriend has a side to him that you’ve yet to truly see. Those words were more believable than any of the sweet things he’s ever said to you.

And still, you almost want to encourage it, reminding yourself of the image of your ex the day he showed up, all bruised up. And then to the image of Jake with his own little battle scar.

Deep down you think you knew what happened.

And you still wonder how such a perfect man fell into your lap? Your bruised up, pain-loving boyfriend, breaking his soft persona and showing you a glimpse of something that feels….unnervingly beautiful to you.

Unsure, almost, you feel. As happy as you are that he lied to you, you try to not think of how Jake found your ex with nothing more than an out-of-context description of your abuse. You try not to think of the way he looked away from you when you mentioned the items in your apartment that went missing.

You try not to think about how close he lives to you, and how he always managed to show up when you couldn’t hang out.

How all of his interests matched your own, up until he never spoke about them again when he started staying with you.

How he only looks at you, how he only talks to you, and about you.

How he always knew what to say to you.

You try not to think about how you saw him toss his own laundry into your washer many nights ago, seeing a glimpse of what you thought could have been a pair of your own missing panties. Or how he always accidentally picked up your toothbrush rather than his own in the mornings.

You push those thoughts far into the back of your mind, knowing that you were just being paranoid, grasping to not trust a single person in this world as you fall into this life with him. Even if all of those instances were with purpose on his end, you know you’d simply accept them as normal. You’d accept him, you wouldn’t think twice.

Jake is your only safety. He would never do anything to harm you, he’s proved that.

You hold his head tighter against your chest, breathing out a sigh and accepting everything at face value, pushing back the slight doubt in your head that everything he has done for you, to you, and with you, isn’t normal.

“Did you tell him already?” You sigh out in a calmer tone, soothing him with your fingers in his hair. “That you’d kill him? Is that really why you had that bruise?”

Jake stiffens under your grasp briefly.

“What do you m–” He starts.

“I won’t ask how,” You cut him off. “But thank you.”

He relaxes, thumbs now rubbing hearts into your skin, stomach bubbling in butterflies.

“I did.” He now admits reluctantly, feeling dangerously close to a truth you don’t need to see or know about. “I couldn’t just let another person think that you still belong to them.”

You pause, then nuzzle closer to him.

“I knew from the first time I saw you that I wouldn’t let anyone else touch you.” He continues, spilling and spilling. “I knew that you’d be mine.”

You try not to think too hard about it, asking out gently and instead choosing to just love him harder.

“When was the first time you saw me?”

Jake goes silent and tries to read the air in the room, sensing how relaxed you are against him.

“Eighteenth of October at the supermarket. We both made spaghetti for dinner that night.” He lies, never intending to admit that the first time he saw you was through your window. Never admitting that he actually already knew you by that eighteenth of October. That he followed you to the market.

He says it so confidently, and the fact that he’s right about what you cooked should scare you. The fact that you must have seen him that day too should make you feel unnerved.

You choose to ignore that too.

“Was your spaghetti good?” You ask, allowing yourself to spiral into the safety that he offers you. The image of your bruised ex boyfriend bringing joy to you, the idea of Jake keeping his promises making your stomach tingle with even brighter joy.

“No.” He admits with a chuckle. “Yours was probably better.”

“You really would kill him, wouldn’t you?”

Jake nods.

You trust him.

He’s not lying.

He would never lie to you.

Him knowing what you cooked that night is a coincidence. Him remembering the date and month is just him being mindful. Your lost panties must have gotten tangled in his laundry, surely. He found your ex because you probably let sensitive information slip without realizing it.

He met your mother and uncle by coincidence.

He’s the perfect man by chance, and you’re lucky to have him.

“I love you, you know.” You say, feeling him immediately shift away from your chest to look at you.

The look in his eye when he’s immediately getting on top of you, it’s still as if he’s about to wisp away with you in his arms to another realm. You’ve already been there before, and your body warms at the thought.

“What did you say?” He asks, voice shaking and somewhat far away from your own dissociated reality.

“I love you.” You say again, watching his lips quiver, and feeling his hands squeeze you.

He did it. He’s won.

And at the end of the day, you don’t think Jake could ever lose. After all, you’ve never felt so safe in a grasp as tight as this one, as painful as this one. You’ve never wanted a man to leave his fingerprints on you so bad.

As you look at him, seeing him lose himself from reality, you follow suit. Losing yourself with him, feeling that painful grasp on you turn into begging hands. Swelling him under your palms, soothing his stinging skin with your lips, listening to him encourage you, knowing that if your ex ever tried to step into this room, he wouldn’t make it out alive.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

oh, the horrors, amirite?

this is the last of the fic. there is not a part three.

taglist: @skzenhalove , @taetaemylovie, @soocult, @nyanggk, @grilledbananas, @dneltrise, @becc09, @nielle002, @sjyfolder, @sd211, @moonmoongi, @sweetiewolfie, @ksnooppy, @woongkification, @laxatives4hre, @hiddensideofmoon, @mywaaw, @beomstarz, @multifandombtvh, @heeverseblog, @floclover, @elliesuh, @iloveleeknow, @crazydelulu, @dasa3040, @sluttyhee, @bethroedtojae, @cherryunie, @hiamlili, @seojunandsoju, @parksunghoonsgf, @jungwon-xo, @fxiryeon, @jwnghyuns, @juliesblogs

#enhypen smut #jake smut #sim jaeyun smut #jaeyun smut

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coffin-bird · 2 years ago

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#i hate that the things that bother me bother me #if someone is inconvenienced or put off by me being bothered by something #i can assure them that is but a fraction of how i feel about it. i promise #i hate having to set utterly arbitrary boundaries #like yes. i am aware how stupid or difficult or pointless that is believe it or not #that doesnt change the fact that it triggers or bothers or disgusts me or whatever other intense often vitriolic reaction i get #i wish more ppl were just willing to at least. at the absolute very least. accept that it sounds dumb and still accomodate me #tho the ideal would be real compassion and listening and checking in #it creates this horrible scenario in which i dont wanna ask ppl to not do or say certain things around me #even if theyre either perfectly reasonable or easily avoidable #theres a thing that happened recently in dnd that i had literally no way of knowing would happen #thats a long consequence between the dm and another player #that makes me EXTREMELY uncomfortable. but it doesnt involve me.#even if its something that i cannot stand to hear/think/talk about #and ive been told that my botheredness is a me problem and i shouldnt talk about it to try and ease. something. for me #so i just have to suffer through it #but previous experiences with vaguely similar scenarios makes me not want to ask #a different dm if that topic that makes me wildly uncomfortable could pls never be brought up in her game #bc its stupid and ive been told its abnormal and bad to feel like that about it already #and ive also been rejected in my asking for accomodations so much in the past that like #even with how uncomfortable this topic makes me. to the point where id rather hear someone eat a bag of chips i think #that i just. cant get myself to bring it up #vent #like. ik im abnormal and a freak or whatever okay?#ik that some things that bother me make me unlikeable or inhuman #it bothers no one more than it bothers me. but the way ive been treated in regards to that in the past has been. bad

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hyunebunx · 1 month ago

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⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ ’ when you aren't dating but aren't just friends either (maknae line)

⁺ 𖹭 . genre: fluff, a lot more angst and suggestive themes!!

⁺ 𖹭 . warnings: toxic relationship dynamics (not all of them)

⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: hyung line here!! hope you enjoyy <33 pls let me know your thoughts in the comments/reblogs! <3

𝜗୧ jisung 𝜗୧

Another jealous one. Honestly, in his case, you’re both jealous and it’s justified.

You guys go back and forth a lot. One minute you want him, the next you don’t and that really messes with Jisung’s head on a daily basis.

The line between friendship and something more is blurred here since you’ve done numerous things that have crossed it multiple times but unfortunately, neither of you knows how to handle that.

You: did you get home safe?

As expected, his reply came only a minute later since he was always glued to his phone.

Ji <3: yeah bin dropped me off

You: that’s good

You: did you have fun at the party? with that girl that was all over you?

You couldn’t help but bite down on your bottom lip as you hit send, suddenly overtaken by this indescribable feeling of anxiety. You could picture the reaction that simple question would get out of Jisung, the furrow of his eyebrows and the displeasure on his face clear as day in your mind.

Ji <3: y/n what the fuck

The three dots that indicated he was typing kept appearing and disappearing, almost like he couldn’t decide on a response, as taken aback as you thought he’d be. That went on for a few moments more before stopping altogether and next thing you knew, your phone lit up with an upcoming call. Taking a deep breath, you mentally prepared yourself for another argument before sliding your finger on the screen to answer.

“What nonsense is your pretty little mouth sprouting right now, Y/n?” Came his slightly groggy voice, visibly exhausted after the long night he had had partying. No ‘hello’, no ‘baby’, even if he seemed calmer than you expected, Jisung was obviously aggravated by your behavior.

Moving the phone from one ear to the other, you tried to ease some of your anxiety by sitting down on the bed. “Nonsense? Jisung, you do know I received pictures of you and this random girl from three of my friends, right?”

Jisung let out a strained laugh, one that conveyed all of his anger. “What is this now? Did you stoop so low as to put your friends to spy on me when you’re not here?”

“Are you hearing yourself?” your voice got louder as all of your muscles grew tense. “I just asked you a fucking question, nobody was spying on you!”

You heard him exhale loudly on the other end, presumably rolling his eyes. “So, I’m not allowed to speak to people of the opposite gender now?”

A sigh escaped you at that, rolling your shoulders before letting yourself fall back against the many pillows, frowning.

“You know that’s not what I asked, Ji – “

“Oh, I know.” He cut you off, the argument giving him more energy. “You were just wondering if we fucked.”

With wide eyes, you sat up trying to defend yourself but his velvety voice interrupted once again.

“Don’t worry, you’re the only one I fuck at parties. The only one I fuck, in general.” Even if these words were meant to reassure you, the tone of his voice did anything but that. “Any more questions or jealousy fueled craziness?”

You scoffed, your nerves slowly morphing into anger that threatened to bubble to the surface any second. The audacity to call you crazy and be bothered by your behavior when he usually lost his goddamn mind if a guy as much as breathed in your direction, was wild. This thing you and Jisung had wasn’t healthy, you could see it, and everyone in a 100-mile radius could see it. But the feelings that blossomed along the way felt too real, and intense for either of you to just call it quits, no matter how toxic your current dynamic was. Most of the time, you brought out the worst in each other, but you also felt like your best couldn’t even exist without him.

With another sigh, the man tried to redeem himself once he realized he might’ve taken it a bit too far, voice barely above a whisper as he softened up.

“I’ve been chasing after you to make you my girlfriend for months now, baby. Do you really believe I’d do something like that to us?”

𝜗୧ felix 𝜗୧

No matter your relationship status, Felix treats you like you’re the most precious person in the world. No surprises here.

He’s so gentle and loving, the sight of you never fails to put a smile on his face. Wants to be near you all the time, always invading your personal space and clinging to you any chance he gets.

Hugs, lingering touches and not so innocent kisses. There’s a very strong longing for the other here.

Laughter could be heard as you and Felix were playfighting on the couch, skilled fingers tickling every spot you knew would make the other lose their mind. One of the perks of being such good friends was having easy access to each other’s weaknesses, making the tickle war fair on both fronts. Though you prided yourself on having many aces under your sleeve, Felix countered them easily each and every time.

“Just – “ Your sentence was cut off by another fit of laughter as Felix continued his attack, not even giving you the chance to speak. “Admit you cheated! You’re a cheater Lee Felix! I would have won that race fair and square if you wouldn’t have bombed me right at the finish line.”

Felix only laughed in response, not admitting anything as he continued to tickle your sides. His innocent mask always fooled you into forgetting that to his core, he was a notorious cheater who loved tricking others.

“Or maybe you’re just a sore loser.” He grinned, gently nudging your side to have you fall on the couch. Briefly stopping his tickle assault, he then moved to hover over you, smile turning into a smug, a little too arrogant, smirk.

The air shifted as he got even closer, one hand moving upwards your body until it reached your face. Your eyes met and his smirk dropped, not once looking away while he stopped at your jaw, his thumb sticking out to softly run over your lower lip. The gesture was so intimate and familiar as he never missed an opportunity to be affectionate, yet it still caused your heart to flutter and breath hitch in your throat momentarily. He always looked at you with eyes full of love and adoration and each time, you were willing to give him everything he desired and more.

Felix hummed, his already deep voice dropping even lower while he continued to maintain eye contact. “Who knew you took mario kart so seriously?”

You couldn’t take it anymore. His touch burned in the most pleasant way, leaving behind blooming flowers as strange as that sounded. That’s how being with Felix felt too. You felt love, passion, lust, comfort, all wrapped up in the pretty package that was him. Being with Felix felt like home.

That’s why, you took advantage of him getting lost in what he was doing to you before suddenly setting your hands on his shoulders in hopes of overpowering him, pushing his body back so you could be the one on top. With each knee on either side, you straddled him before leaning down and connecting your lips in a passionate kiss. If Felix was surprised by the turn of events, he didn’t show it, hands finding your hips and resting there while gently caressing the skin.

It felt like fireworks going off on New Year’s when you kissed him, lips fitting together like they were made for each other. The plushness of his lips along with the taste of his tongue, of him – they all drove you insane.

Lee Felix might have been a filthy cheater when it came to any type of game, willing to deceive everyone just to win. But when it came to your relationship – whatever that was – you knew he would never be anything other than truthful.

𝜗୧ seungmin 𝜗୧

He’s the sweetest when with you. No joke, the others usually complain about how you get special treatment from him because Seugmin is never that nice to them.

Has moments when he gets so gentle and lovey-dovey but as soon as someone points it out, he playfully pushes you away with a bashful smile, cheeks reddening by the second.

Can be a bit inconsiderate of your feelings sometimes.

The room was silent save for the tv that was quietly running in the background, the action movie long forgotten by Seungmin as you captivated all of his attention. His eyes were glued to your sleeping form in his lap, the pillow under your head along with the blanket on top ensuring you were most comfortable. One of his hands would sometimes reach out to fix the blanket while the other would soothe you back to sleep by caressing your head, leaning down to whisper sweet nothings in your ear if some of the guys got too loud. It was very peaceful for him, a serenity he didn’t usually get in his everyday life that only came along with you.

You were special to him, his feelings for you obvious to everyone around except for the person that mattered most. Because of that, he was usually reluctant to act on them but that was starting to get harder and harder each day, especially when you did things like right now. You were the picture of peace, away in dreamland while Seungmin was the complete opposite, a storm picking up inside of his mind.

He was confused. His gaze was filled with nothing but fondness as he once again looked down at you, happiness bubbling up inside of him and threatening to overflow to the surface any second. Yet as he kept staring, he could feel little knives puncturing his poor heart at the reminder that you were nothing more than friends, what you had purely platonic.

“Guys, look at Seungmin being a lovesick puppy.”

Jeongin’s voice came from his right and he immediately turned to the youngest with a glare, one that didn’t seem to do anything as his smile only grew in response. Shaking his head, Seungmin rolled his eyes before his gaze fell back to you, his hand now stroking your soft hair.

“Shh, Innie, don’t disturb our couple.” Hyunjin chimed in with a smirk of his own, quick reflexes helping him dodge the pillow Seungmin threw right at his face. Chan only chuckled under his breath from his place on the other sofa while Minho didn’t even glance up from his phone, absorbed in what was presumably an argument with his partner.

“Will you guys be quiet? Y/n’s sleeping.” His voice remained low yet the hostility in it was clear as day as he turned to look at his two troublemaker friends, glaring. He wasn’t in the mood for any teasing it seemed. “And stop calling us a couple. We aren��t together and we’ll never be so knock it off and let me enjoy the movie.”

The men stopped after that, not wanting to push their luck as they knew how scary Seungmin got when angry. But unknowing to them, you heard the whole thing, your heart falling all the way down to your stomach at his painful, careless words.

What was supposed to be a relaxing afternoon, ended up with you getting your heart broken by none other than Kim Seungmin himself, the guy you’ve been in love with since what felt like two lifetimes ago.

𝜗୧ jeongin 𝜗୧

Did someone say childhood friends to lovers? Because I did.

You’re very comfortable around each other, knowing all of the other’s secrets and defining life events so when your relationship started to shift, you were none the wiser.

Has always loved you in some way, just isn’t aware of the fact that he’s actually in love with you.

“And you won’t believe what she said next!”

He chuckled, fox eyes following your every move as you continued to pace around in his room. “What did she say?”

Turning to him, you made a face before starting to mock one of your girlfriends. “Well Y/n, maybe if you got a boyfriend, you would understand why we can’t always bend over backwards for you!”

Jeongin gasped, hands moving up to his mouth pretending to be flabbergasted by what you just said, completely entertained by your antics. Being best friends for as long as you two have been, there was nothing unusual with you coming over to catch him up on the latest drama that was happening in your friend group. It was more or less a weekly tradition at this point.

“Can you believe that? She was blaming me for the fact that she was a shitty friend!”

He nodded, agreeing with your every word. “And not only that, but she was also boyfriend shaming you!”

“Exactly!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands up in frustration. “Do you see the type of people I have to deal with now that you’re not here?”

Those last words made Jeongin’s shoulders fall as it all dawned on him; you were right – he was barely here nowadays, his busy schedule keeping him away from you and all he’s known for the majority of his life. He missed it, going out and goofing around with you and his school friends, having no real responsibilities other than doing some random homework and picking the place you’d hang out at after classes.

He missed you. So much that it physically hurts sometimes.

“Jeongin?”

At the sound of your sweet voice calling his name, he snapped out of it, eyes focusing on your form in front of him once again. Without a word, he then beckoned you closer with a finger and once you were in reach, he pulled you into his arms, a laugh escaping him as you gasped in surprise. Jeongin didn’t usually initiate physical contact so being pulled into an embrace like that, so out of the blue was really confusing for you. Nevertheless, your arms went around his neck while you melted into his hold, his own going around your waist innocently as you were now standing in between his legs.

“How about we make this girl eat her words, hm?” he smiled, looking up at you from his seat on the bed, chin resting just above your stomach.

Raising an eyebrow, your hands moved to comb through his dark locks. “How?”

It seemed that’s what he was waiting for as his smile turned into a smirk, eyes full of mischief at the plan he was silently cooking up.

“Let me be your boyfriend, your trophy man if you will.” Seeing the way your eyes widened and mouth dropped open, he squeezed your sides, shushing you. “I’m not done. I can pretend to be your boyfriend when she’s around, showering you with affection until she turns green with envy and realizes what a shitty friend she’s been. Or, until you drop her.”

Your mouth closed and he could see you contemplate his words, your lips pursed into a small pout. You looked kind of adorable from up close, not that he’d ever admit it.

With a nod, you agreed, your smile returning and lighting up your face for the first time in the hour you’ve been at his house.

“Alright, let’s do this!”

And then, next thing you knew, Jeongin stood up and suddenly, his lips were on yours.

tagging: @captainchrisstan

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natsaffection · 3 months ago

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THIS IDEA MIGHT BE HELLAA ASS but we’re stull pushing through👏👏

So basically the team could be heading back from a mission and stuff. And reader could just be like incredibly exhausted, laying across a few of the many seats of the jet. Reader was minding her business, on the verge of sleeping. But soon felt a weight on her stomach, specifically where a large dark bruise resided as her breath was knocked from her . Soon enough, reader realizes it’s Natasha on top of her, making reader squirm and argue because there was way more open seats surrounding them and Natasha had to sit on her. But unbeknownst to reader, that was Natasha’s way of trying to court / flirt with her.

Ends w/ smut? G!p Natasha is the way to go😼

-💋

Footage. | N.R

Warnings: 18+! MINORS DNI!, G!P Natasha, Teasing, oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), unprotected Sex, filming, multiple orgasm

Word count: 4,1k

A/n: *sending this my gf. What?

The mission had been grueling. The team was physically and mentally exhausted as they made their way back to the quinjet. The adrenaline that had fueled them during the intense combat was now rapidly draining, leaving behind only fatigue. You trudged up the ramp of the quinjet, your limbs heavy and your mind foggy with exhaustion. You found an empty row of seats toward the back and collapsed onto them, stretching out across the length of the seats. The cool material of the seat against your cheek was a welcome comfort as you closed your eyes, your body finally starting to relax.

The gentle hum of the quinjet's engines as they powered up for takeoff was like a lullaby, lulling you toward the edges of sleep. Your muscles unwound, and you allowed yourself to sink deeper into the comfort of the seats, the noises of the team settling in around you fading into the background. But just as you were on the verge of slipping into unconsciousness, you felt a sudden pressure on your midsection. The breath was forced from your lungs as something, or rather someone, planted themselves firmly on top of you. Your eyes snapped open, and you let out a small, startled gasp, struggling to inhale as you squirmed beneath the unexpected weight.

Looking up, you found yourself staring into the mischievous green eyes of Natasha. She had straddled your hips, her full weight pressing down, an amused smirk playing on her lips as she watched your reaction. “N-Natasha!” you managed to wheeze out, still trying to catch your breath. You squirmed beneath the spy, trying to shift her into a more comfortable position, but Natasha only leaned in further, making it even harder for you to move.

“What are you doing!?” you asked, your voice breathless, half from the pressure on your lungs and half from the proximity of Natasha’s face to your own. Natasha chuckled softly, her breath warm against your skin. “You looked too comfortable.” she teased, her smirk widening as she shifted her position slightly, causing you to squirm even more. “Can’t have you getting too relaxed, can we?”

You glared up at her, though the effect was somewhat diminished by the flush creeping up your cheeks. “You’re crushing me!” you protested, but there was no real heat in your words. If anything, there was a certain warmth in your tone, a softness that you rarely showed. Natasha’s gaze softened slightly as she looked down at you, though the playful glint in her eyes remained. “Maybe I just wanted a more comfortable seat..” she replied, her tone light but with a hint of something deeper beneath it. You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “And you thought I’d make a good cushion??”

“Best seat in the house.” Natasha quipped. You tried to shift again, a little more forcefully this time, but Natasha didn’t budge. You gave her an exasperated look, your brow furrowing slightly as you pointedly glanced around the quinjet. “There are plenty of other seats, Natasha. You really don’t have to sit on me!”

Natasha tilted her head slightly, her smirk deepening as she looked around the empty seats, then back at you. “I know.” she replied casually, clearly aware of the open space around them. She adjusted her position slightly, pressing her weight down a bit more, which made you squirm beneath her again. “But none of them looked as inviting as this one.” You groaned, trying to push Natasha off with more determination this time. “I’m not a chair, Romanoff..”

Natasha chuckled softly, her voice taking on a teasing lilt. “Could’ve fooled me. You're warm, soft, and..” She leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper that sent a shiver down your spine. “Very comfortable.” You were about to retort when you suddenly froze, feeling something pressing against your thigh. It wasn’t the first time you’d felt Natasha’s anatomy during your close moments, but this time, it was.. different. Your eyes widened slightly as you realized what it meant. Natasha was hard. The pressure against your thigh was firmer than usual, unmistakable, and the realization sent a jolt of surprise and something else through you.

You gasped softly, your breath hitching in your throat as you looked up at Natasha, searching her face for any sign that she was aware of what you had just noticed. But Natasha’s expression was still playful, her smirk firmly in place, though there was an added intensity in her eyes that hadn’t been there before.

“N-Natasha..” you whispered, your voice tinged with surprise and uncertainty. “You’re..you’re-” Natasha’s smirk widened, her eyes darkening with a mixture of amusement and desire. “Yes?” she prompted, clearly enjoying the effect she was having on you. You swallowed hard, your mind racing as you tried to process what was happening. “You..like this?”

Natasha’s gaze softened slightly, though her playful demeanor remained. “Maybe you’re just more comfortable than you think.” she teased, her voice low and smooth as she leaned in closer, her breath warm against your ear. Your heart pounded in your chest, your body caught between the overwhelming sensation of Natasha’s presence and the confusion swirling in your thoughts. “I didn’t think..I mean, I didn’t realize..” you stammered, your face flushing with embarrassment and a hint of something more.

Natasha chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through your chest. “Didn’t realize what?” she asked, her voice a low purr. “That being close to you does things to me?” You felt a shiver run down your spine at Natasha’s words, the implications of her tone sending your mind spinning. “I just..I didn’t know you felt that way.” you admitted, your voice trembling slightly as you looked up at Natasha, trying to gauge her intentions. Natasha’s smirk softened into a more genuine smile, though there was still a playful glint in her eyes. “I think you’ve been too busy trying to keep your distance to notice.”

“I wasn’t… I wasn’t trying to keep my distance!” you said. “Weren’t you?” Natasha asked, her voice soft but probing. “You’ve always seemed a little..hesitant. Like you’re afraid to get too close.” You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. You hadn’t realized it yourself, but Natasha was right..you had been holding back, keeping a certain distance between you even though you didn’t fully understand why. Natasha’s expression softened even more as she saw the uncertainty in your eyes. “You don’t have to be afraid.” she said gently, her voice filled with sincerity. “I’m not going to push you into anything you’re not ready for.”

You swallowed hard, your thoughts swirling as you tried to make sense of your emotions. Despite the initial shock, there was a part of you that was undeniably intrigued, even..excited by this new revelation. “I’m not..afraid.” you finally admitted, “Just..surprised.”

Natasha smiled, a genuine, warm smile that reached her eyes. “Good.” she said softly, her thumb gently brushing against your cheek. “Because I don’t want you to be scared. I want you to feel safe..and wanted.” Your heart swelled at Natasha’s words, the sincerity in her voice cutting through the confusion and fear. You could see now that Natasha wasn’t just teasing you, there was real emotion behind her actions, a desire that had been simmering beneath the surface for some time. You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself as you looked up at Natasha. “I do feel safe with you.” you admitted softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “And..maybe more than that.”

Natasha’s eyes softened, her smile widening slightly as she leaned in closer, her breath warm against your lips. “Good.” she murmured, her voice filled with a mix of affection and desire. “Because I’ve been waiting for you to realize that.”

As the flight continued, Natasha stayed exactly where she was, never giving you a chance to fully relax. Her fingers would occasionally brush along your arm, or her hips would shift just enough to make you painfully aware of Natasha’s arousal pressing against you. Each teasing touch sent jolts through you, making you bite your lip to stifle any sound that might escape. “Natasha..” you groaned, your body tense as you tried to subtly push Natasha off without drawing the attention of the rest of the team. “You’re doing this on purpose..”

Natasha leaned down, her lips almost brushing your ear as she whispered back, “Maybe. Does it bother you?” You swallowed hard, your mind and body at war. “You’re going to make me lose my mind!” you muttered, a mixture of frustration and something dangerously close to desire coloring your tone. Natasha chuckled softly, her breath warm against your skin. “That’s the idea.”

The rest of the flight was an agonizing mix of teasing touches and unspoken tension. Your heart pounded in your chest, your mind spinning with the knowledge of what Natasha was doing and what it meant. You tried to maintain your composure, but every time Natasha’s hand brushed against your skin or she shifted her hips, it became harder and harder to keep your cool. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the quinjet touched down at the Avengers compound. The team began to unbuckle and prepare to disembark, the exhaustion from the mission weighing on everyone except, it seemed, Natasha..

As the others filed out of the quinjet, Natasha finally lifted herself off of you, giving you a smirk that was full of promise. You sat up, trying to catch your breath, your mind still reeling from the intense flight. But as you stood to follow the others out, you heard the soft click of the quinjet door closing behind you. You turned around, your heart skipping a beat as you saw Natasha standing there, blocking the exit, her eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made your knees weak.

“Natasha…” you started, your voice trailing off as you realized exactly what was about to happen. Her smirk widened, her eyes dark with intent. “I think it’s time we finished what we started.” she said, her voice low and filled with the promise of what was to come. Your breath caught in your throat, a mix of anticipation and nervousness flooding your senses. You knew exactly what Natasha wanted..what she had been teasing you with throughout the flight and there was no escaping it now. Not that you wanted to.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped toward Natasha, your heart pounding as you closed the distance between you. “You’re relentless, you know that?” you murmured. Natasha’s eyes softened just a fraction as she reached out to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing lightly across your skin. “Only when it’s something I really want.”

You leaned into Natasha’s touch, your resolve finally breaking as you allowed yourself to fully embrace the feelings you had been trying to suppress. “And what do you want?” you whispered, already knowing the answer. Natasha’s lips curled into a slow, satisfied smile. “You.”

With that, Natasha closed the remaining distance between you, capturing your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. You melted into the kiss, all the tension and teasing from the flight finally giving way to the overwhelming connection between you. “Nat, we’re still in the jet..” you whispered urgently, your voice shaky with a mix of nervousness and desire. “There are cameras..Anyone could see this.”

Natasha paused, her lips hovering just above your skin as she met your gaze with a mischievous smile. “I know.” she replied, her voice low and laced with amusement. “That’s part of the fun.” Your eyes widened further, your heart pounding as you tried to process Natasha’s words. “You’re not serious..” you breathed, though you could see in Natasha’s eyes that she very much was.

Natasha let out a soft, sultry laugh, her hand coming up to cup your cheek. “Dead serious.” she whispered, her thumb brushing lightly across your lips. “I can watch it over and over again, anytime I want.”

Before you could say anything else, Natasha’s hands were on you again, pushing you gently but firmly back onto the seats. You let out a soft gasp as you felt the cool leather against your back again, your pulse quickening as Natasha climbed on top of you, her body pressing you down into the seat. Her hands moved with deliberate slowness, her fingers tracing teasing patterns along your body, making you squirm beneath her touch. “Relax..” Natasha whispered, her voice like velvet as her fingers slid under your shirt, brushing against your skin. “I’m going to make you feel good. Just let me.”

Your breath hitched as Natasha’s touch grew bolder, her fingers dancing across your stomach before moving lower. “N-Nat..” you breathed, your voice a mix of anticipation and need, as Natasha’s hand slid between your thighs, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp. Natasha smiled down at you, her eyes dark with desire as she leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, deep kiss. As your lips moved together, Natasha’s fingers began to tease you through your clothes, drawing soft moans from you as you arched into the touch.

Breaking the kiss, Natasha pulled back slightly, her eyes locking with yours as she continued her teasing. “You’re so responsive..” she murmured, her voice filled with admiration as she watched you writhe beneath her. “I love how you react to me.” Your cheeks flushed, your breath coming in short, uneven gasps as Natasha’s hand moved with increasing intensity. “Nat, please..” you whispered, your voice filled with desperation as you felt the tension building inside you.

Natasha’s smile turned predatory as she pulled back, her hands moving to quickly remove your pants, leaving you bare and exposed to the cool air of the jet. You shivered, a mix of anticipation and vulnerability washing over you as Natasha spread your thighs apart, her gaze hungry as she took in the sight of you. Without another word, Natasha lowered herself between your legs, her breath warm against your skin as she placed soft, teasing kisses along your inner thighs. Your breath hitched, your body trembling with need as Natasha’s lips moved closer to where you craved her touch the most.

Finally, Natasha’s mouth found its target, and you let out a sharp gasp as you felt Natasha’s tongue flick against you, the sensation sending a bolt of pleasure through your body. Natasha’s hands gripped your hips, holding you in place as she began to work her tongue with expert precision, her every movement calculated to drive you closer to the edge. Your head fell back against the seat, your hands gripping the edge of the seat as you struggled to stay grounded in the overwhelming waves of pleasure that Natasha was pulling from you. “Natasha..!” you moaned, your voice a breathless plea as Natasha’s tongue moved faster, each stroke bringing you closer to the release you desperately needed.

Natasha hummed in response, the vibration sending another jolt of pleasure through you as she continued her relentless assault. Your body tensed, your back arching as you felt yourself teetering on the edge, the intensity of the moment nearly too much to bear. With a final, precise movement of her tongue, Natasha pushed you over the edge, and you cried out as the orgasm crashed over you, your body trembling uncontrollably. Natasha didn’t stop, her tongue continuing to move, drawing out every last bit of your release until you were left breathless and spent.

As you lay there, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath, Natasha finally pulled back, her lips glistening as she looked up at you with a satisfied smile. “You taste even better than I imagined..” she murmured, as she wiped the back of her hand across her mouth. You blushed deeply, your heart still racing as you looked down at Natasha, unable to form coherent words in the aftermath of what had just happened. But Natasha wasn’t done. She rose slowly, her hands sliding up your legs as she came to hover over you, her eyes dark with renewed desire.

“You’re not getting away that easily.” Natasha whispered, her voice husky as she began to undress herself. “We’re just getting started.” Your eyes widened as you watched Natasha, your breath catching in your throat as the redhead’s clothes fell away, revealing her toned, beautiful body. You knew exactly what Natasha intended to do next, and the anticipation sent another wave of heat through you, reigniting the desire that had barely begun to fade.

“f-fuck-” you started, but the words died in your throat as Natasha leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that left no room for doubt. Natasha’s hands were everywhere, touching, teasing, and claiming your body with an intensity that left you breathless. As Natasha positioned herself between your legs, you felt a mix of nervousness and overwhelming desire.

Natasha broke the kiss, her eyes locking onto yours as she whispered, “You’re mine. And I’m going to make sure you know it.” With that, Natasha pushed forward, entering you with a slow, deliberate motion that made you gasp. Natasha’s eyes never left yours, the connection between you deep and intense as your bodies finally came together. Your hands gripped Natasha’s shoulders, your nails digging into her skin as you moaned softly, the sensation of Natasha filling you overwhelming your senses. Natasha moved with purpose, each thrust calculated to bring you higher, your bodies moving together in perfect sync.

The intensity of the moment built quickly, each movement driving you closer and closer to the edge. Your moans filled the cabin, your body responding to Natasha’s every touch, every thrust, as you felt yourself spiraling toward another climax. Natasha’s breathing grew more ragged, her control slipping as she felt herself nearing the edge as well. “Fuck! Y/n..” she gasped, her voice filled with a mix of desperation and adoration as she thrust deeper, harder, chasing the release she knew you both craved.

Your body tensed, your muscles tightening as the pressure built to an almost unbearable level. With a final, deep thrust, Natasha pushed you both over the edge, and you cried out as the orgasm tore through you, your body convulsing in pleasure as Natasha followed you over the edge, your bodies trembling together in the aftermath. As the waves of pleasure slowly subsided, Natasha collapsed onto you, her breath coming in heavy gasps as she pressed her forehead against yours, your bodies still entwined. For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the only sound in the cabin your ragged breathing as you both came down from the high of your shared release.

Finally, Natasha lifted her head, her eyes soft as she looked down at you, a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips. “You’re amazing, you know that?” she whispered, her voice filled with affection as she brushed a strand of hair away from your face. You smiled weakly, your body still tingling from the intensity of what had just happened. “You’re not so bad yourself..” you murmuredas you try to catch your breath.

Natasha’s expression shifted, a mischievous glint returning to her eyes as she seemed to consider something. Without warning, Natasha moved, pulling you up and turning you so you were on your hands and knees, your body facing one of the cameras mounted in the corner of the jet. You gasped at the sudden movement, your heart racing as you realized what Natasha intended. “W-Wait, no, no, you wont..!”

Natasha didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she ran her hands down your back, admiring the way you shivered under her touch. “You’re going to look so beautiful in this footage..” Natasha murmured, her voice low and filled with anticipation. “I want to capture every moment..every reaction.”

Your breath hitched, your pulse quickening as you felt Natasha’s hands grip your hips firmly. You could feel Natasha’s arousal against you, and the idea of what was about to happen sent a thrill through you. “Y-You’re really going to-”

“Watch it over and over again,” Natasha finished for you, her tone dark with desire. “I want to see this from every angle, to remember how you looked when you’re mine.” With that, Natasha didn’t waste any more time. She positioned herself behind you, her hands gripping your hips tightly as she entered you from behind with one smooth, deliberate motion. You moaned loudly, your head dropping forward as Natasha filled you, the intensity of the sensation overwhelming your senses.

She reached forward, grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling your head up, forcing you to look directly into the camera. The position left you feeling both vulnerable and completely exposed, but the knowledge that Natasha would be watching this moment over and over again sent a new wave of heat through you.

“Look at the camera..” Natasha whispered, her voice a low growl. “I want you to see exactly what I’m doing to you.” Your eyes locked onto the camera lens, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as Natasha began to move, each thrust deliberate and powerful, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. The pull on your hair kept your head in place, forcing you to watch yourself as Natasha took you, the sight only adding to the intensity of the moment.

Natasha’s pace quickened, her grip on your hair tightening as she thrust deeper, each movement calculated to bring you to the brink of another climax. “You look so perfect like this..!” Natasha murmured, her voice filled with satisfaction as she watched your reactions. “You’re mine..mine to touch, to take, to watch, fuck!”

Your body trembled with the force of Natasha’s thrusts, your moans growing louder as you felt yourself spiraling toward another release. The combination of Natasha’s roughness, the pull on your hair, and the knowledge that this moment would be replayed over and over again was too much. The tension in your body built quickly, reaching a fever pitch as Natasha’s movements became more urgent, more demanding.

“Come for me.” Natasha growled, her voice dark and commanding as she thrust harder, her eyes never leaving your reflection in the camera. “I want to see you fall apart.”

With one final, deep thrust, you were pushed over the edge, a scream tearing from your throat as the orgasm ripped through you, your body shaking uncontrollably. Natasha kept moving, prolonging the sensation, her own breath ragged as she chased her own release. Natasha’s grip on your hair tightened as she thrust one last time, her body shuddering as she followed you over the edge, your moans mingling together in the air as you both found your release.

As the intensity of the moment began to fade, Natasha slowly loosened her grip on your hair, letting your head fall forward as you caught your breath. You collapsed onto the seat, your body spent and trembling from the overwhelming experience. Natasha leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your back as she whispered, “You were perfect. Absolutely perfect.”

You smiled weakly, your body still tingling from the aftershocks of your orgasm. “I can’t believe you’re going to watch that..” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. Natasha chuckled softly, her hand gently caressing your back. “Every chance I get.” she replied, her voice filled with satisfaction. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this.”

Your heart swelled at Natasha’s words, a sense of warmth and belonging washing over you as you lay there, completely spent and utterly content. Despite the intensity of what had just happened, you knew that you were safe, that Natasha would never let anyone see this but her. With one final kiss to your back, Natasha slowly pulled away, gathering you into her arms as you lay together on the seat, your bodies entwined as you came down from the high of your shared release.

As you lay there, basking in the aftermath of your passion, you couldn’t help but smile, knowing that this was just the beginning of something new and exciting between you..a connection that would only grow stronger with time. And as for the footage..well, you knew that you’d probably never look at the quinjet the same way again.

#natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha smut #natasha romanoff #dom!natasha x reader #natasha romanov x reader #nat x reader #natasha romonova #the avengers #natasha #natasha romanov smut

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kimmie2me · 20 days ago

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Dynamite and His Player 2

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𓂅⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀Twitch Gamer!Bakugou x AFAB!Reader

.....

Bakugou glances over at the camera, brows furrowed as he adjusts his headset. "Alright, you extras, get ready to shut the hell up," he growls, his voice laced with annoyance. "She’s real. I’ve got her right here, and she’s playing with me tonight."

You laugh off-screen, causing his chat to explode with reactions. Up until now, they didn't believe a word Bakugou said when he claimed he had a girlfriend. After all, this is the guy known for his explosive reactions when things go slightly wrong. He grumbles, trying to keep his cool, but the slight blush on his cheeks gives him away.

The game loads up, some horror-puzzle co-op that requires a ton of coordination. But while Bakugou’s all business—focused on solving puzzles and surviving—you have other ideas. You’re busy teasing him, wandering off to explore the map, or purposely messing up just to get a rise out of him.

"Can you just—dammit! Will you STOP wandering off?" Bakugou snaps as he watches your character take another detour. "We’re supposed to be working together!"

You grin at the screen, purposely moving your character in circles. "Aw, come on, Suki~ We’re just having fun, right?"

His jaw clenches, and he mutters something under his breath about "not having fun if you keep screwing around." But his viewers are eating it up, laughing at his frustration and flooding the chat with comments like "She's brave for messing with him, LMAO😭😭" and "Bros .4 seconds away from exploding his monitor for the 10 millionth time🪦"

Eventually, he just huffs, slouching in his chair and mumbling, "Fine. Do whatever the hell you want. I’ll just wait here." His expression says he's beyond annoyed, but the hint of a smile peeking through his scowl gives away that maybe, just maybe, he's actually having a little fun too.

Grumpy Twitch Gamer Bakugou Headcanons

...

— Every time he messes up, he narrows his eyes at the camera with that “are you stupid?” glare. Chat spams "IT’S NOT OUR FAULT!” and "WHY R U LOOKING AT US LIKE WE DID THAT??" but he just huffs, “If you idiots weren’t DISTRACTING me…”

— Bakugou’s streaming style is brutally honest—constantly throwing out curses like it’s second nature. If he dies in-game, his go-to is, “How the hell am I supposed to win with this garbage game?!” and he never blames himself, ever.

— He has zero chill. Every so often, he’ll pound the desk so hard that the camera shakes, and one time he punched his mic so fiercely that it cut out, leaving chat in hysterics as he tries to fix it, muttering about “this piece of crap gear.”

— After every gaming session, he gives a review of the game he’s playing—most of which devolve into full-on rants about terrible controls, stupid enemies, and “whoever the hell designed these levels.” At this point, it's an entire essay by the time he's done.

— There are moments when he hits the mute button just to scream or cuss off-mic. Chat sees him red-faced and mouthing words, knowing he’s losing it, which makes them spam laugh emotes to annoy him further.

— Sometimes, when things get really bad, he just simply says "Okay." and goes quiet, leaning in close to the screen with this intense focus. Chat knows that if he’s silent, it’s only because he’s plotting to obliterate whatever got him killed.

— It’s become a running joke with his followers—every time he streams, they place bets on which piece of his equipment he’ll break. He’s replaced his keyboard three times already and had to upgrade his camera stand because he broke the last one during a particularly heated rage quit.

— When he finally beats a level, he acts like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “See? Wasn’t even hard, you just have to not be a dumbass.” Cue the smug smirk.

— Occasionally, in his absolute rage, he’ll end the stream immediately after a loss. One second he’s there, screaming at the game, and then—stream offline.

— Despite all the rage, he’s actually insanely good at gaming. When he goes on a winning streak, chat blows up with admiration, but he barely acknowledges it. “’Course I won—who the hell do you think I am?”

— He has zero patience for backseat gamers. “Oh, you think you could do better? Why don’t you go start your own damn channel, then!” The mods know by now to instantly time out anyone who even hints at suggesting how he should play, and the ban count is astronomical by the end of each stream.

— Occasionally, Bakugou gets so into the game that he goes almost silent, and chat jokes it’s an ASMR session because all they can hear is his intense breathing and muttered curses. “Oi, STOP saying it’s ASMR, it’s not ASMR, you freaks!”

— Loading screens are his worst enemy. Every single time, he glares directly into the camera, arms crossed and seething, ranting about the “stupid long loading times” and how he could’ve “beat the damn game twice by now.” and how "a whole child could've been born by now." Chat watches in suspense because they know the rage is simmering, just waiting to explode.

— If he’s playing a console game, the controller does not have a safe future. He’s thrown it across the room, slammed it on his knee or desk, and even threatened it like, “You’re next, you little piece of shit, keep messing up on me.” He’s gone through so many controllers that his sponsor had to send him extras.

— When he loses in a PvP game, he has 1,001 excuses. “Lag. Dumb luck. Exploiter. The devs nerfed my character, obviously.” If chat calls him out, he just scoffs, “You think that was my fault? Keep dreaming.” And the mods instantly clear out any “L” spam from chat because he’s already dangerously close to slamming his keyboard.

— His channel has special emotes for when he loses his temper—explosion icons, angry Bakugou faces, and even one of his own “ARE YOU FUCKIN’ KIDDING ME?!” face. Chat spams these whenever he starts heating up, which only fuels his fire.

— His viewers love to try and provoke him. Someone will innocently say, “Hey Dynamight, I think you missed something back there,” and he’ll instantly pause, glare at the screen, and say, “I DIDN’T MISS ANYTHING, DUMBASS, WE'RE MOVING ON.” It’s like a game within the game for his followers. (He goes back to check right after.)

— “Easy mode?” he scoffs at the suggestion. “I’d rather throw myself into a fire than play on easy mode.” Even if he’s dying over and over, he’ll never, ever change the difficulty. Chat has tried for months to get him to switch, but he’s stubbornly loyal to “the only real mode” (aka Hard Mode, Nightmare mode or above).

— If he actually wins a match, he’s unbearable. He’ll sit there, grinning and basking in his victory, smirking at the camera with a smug, “And that, extras, is why I’m better than every single one of you.” Cue chat sarcastically clapping.

— He once had a bet with his mods that he’d try to do a stream without cursing or raging. He lasted five minutes before he exploded, screaming, “THIS GAME IS FUCKING RIGGED!” after an unexpected jump-scare. The mods were dying, and he banned half of them out of spite (they were unbanned five minutes later, but still).

— Every time he’s about to start a new game, he’s got this exaggerated, dramatic intro: “ALRIGHT, EXTRAS, prepare yourselves ‘cause we’re about to dominate the shit outta this game. And if I see anyone backseat gaming, you’re banned. Don’t even THINK about telling me what to do.”

— Every now and then, when he dies for the tenth time in a row, he just deadpans to the camera, “I swear to God, I’m deleting my channel after this.” Chat knows he’s bluffing, but they still spam crying emojis like “NOOO PLEASE DON’T” just to mess with him.

— Every so often, when he’s focused on a tough level, he’ll mutter something like, “Okay, maybe you’re not so bad, chat. Don’t tell anyone I said that,” and the comments absolutely blow up with hearts and “WE LOVE YOU, DYNAMIGHT.” He immediately goes red and yells, “Didn’t mean it, idiots!” but it’s too late.

— Once, he rage-quit a game so hard that his entire setup fell silent. He’d punched the desk, and the screen went black. Chat watched in shock as the stream just… cut off. The clip went viral, with an entire 30-minute compilation titled “Every time Dynamight destroyed his setup” He came back the next day, reacted to it, and you already know he gave the video a thumbs down and left a long hate comment.

— His mods convinced him to play a “relaxing, casual game” that was secretly full of jump scares. The first time it happened, he almost flipped his entire desk. He immediately banned half of his mods and told the rest they were “on thin ice.” Chat still laughs about it every time he plays a “cute” game.

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sugrhigh · 29 days ago

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BOY NEXT DOOR 11 - ( c.s )

part ten

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- swearing, starts fluffy (borderline cringe but get over it) and then smurtyyy baby ITS THE FINALE so enjoy

a/n: wow, a chapter coming to a close. you may get an epilogue…you may not…only time will tell. thank you to anyone who has supported me in general and especially on this specific series!! i had such a fun time with this concept and appreciate yall sticking it out with me fr <3

you’re really regretting your promise to chris now. it’s a day later and there’s less than an hour until the game, which is heightening your nerves like nothing else. you smooth your shaky hands over your sweatshirt, continually glancing over at your bed.

his jersey rests there, crisp and clean. it smells like him too; you picked up on the familiar scent when you were holding it in your hands earlier.

he left it in your mailbox, shooting you a vague text before heading up to the arena. though he didn’t tell you what he put in there in his message, you already knew. and you’ve been wrestling with how you want to play this ever since.

you got so comfortable wearing his stuff, especially to games, that it kind of feels weird not to. but you have a feeling that a lot more people know about what happened than you initially expected, which scares the shit out of you.

you suppose you have to get a little uncomfortable, though. it’s been so long since you’ve felt this way, since someone’s excited you, or even hurt you like this.

and it fucking sucked to be so disappointed. but you never ever thought you would bear witness to chris sturniolo saying his first real i love you, especially to you. it was maybe the one thing he could’ve done to convince you, because it was just so unexpected.

you already knew you loved him, so getting that confirmation from him first was huge.

you blow out a breath, still so antsy as you twist around, watching your reflection with a fierce intensity. nothing you’ve tried feels right, and it’s beyond frustrating.

just put it on. what’s the harm?

you’re tearing your hoodie off a moment later, tossing it to the floor as you reach for his jersey. it slips over your head perfectly, wrapping you in subtle hints of his cologne as you adjust it on your shoulders.

you can’t help but smile slightly as you glance in the mirror; if you ignore reality enough, it almost seems like you’re the same person you were a month ago; a blissfully ignorant girl supporting the boy she cared about.

cares about, your brain autocorrects you.

you never really stopped. you wouldn’t have gone over to his house yesterday in the first place if you truly had.

“hey, are you almost—” ramona stops dead in her tracks when she looks up from her feet, seeing you standing in the number 3.

you’re immediately ashamed, for whatever reason, like she caught you doing something wrong. part of it does feel wrong, and you’re about to say so. but then she smiles, like really smiles, and clasps her hands together happily. “finally!”

the reaction shocks you, to say the least, and you know it’s written all over your face. you shake your head a little, trying to find some way to ask her what she possibly means by that.

mona rolls her eyes at you playfully. “what, you thought i wouldn’t support you?”

you shrug, mouth still parted in surprise. you’re kind of smiling though; you’re happy she feels this way, you just weren’t necessarily expecting it.

plus, you didn’t actually tell them how you felt when you gave them the rundown last night after the bars, so neither of them could’ve known what you were experiencing. for the most part you were acting like it was strictly business or something, which couldn’t be further from the truth.

“i don’t know what i thought, to be honest.” you finally say, shifting around on your feet uncomfortably.

“why didn’t you tell me?”

you sigh and mess with your hair a bit. “because it’s not, like, official or anything, and i’m still not even sure i want to wear this to the game. i was just putting it on, i guess.”

she nods, and you’re waiting for her to say more, but she doesn’t. ramona just walks over, pulling you into her arms without another word.

you’re once again stunned, but in a pleasantly unanticipated way. you’re beyond tired of crying, but these tears are different. they’re happy, because you can feel your heart mending, and mona knows that too.

“you took the time, and i think you’re ready to forgive, angel. i can see it every time i look at you, that you’re still thinking of him, and that’s okay. he’s clearly been a fucking wreck, and i honestly believe he loves you because he would never utter those words if he didn’t.” she laughs into your hair slightly, and you can hear the emotion in her voice.

despite everything, you let out a breathy chuckle too. “you’re amazing, you know that? i really lucked the hell out with you.”

she pulls away, still smiling despite her shining eyes. you dab at your own, trying your best not to ruin the makeup you had so carefully applied half an hour earlier.

“i love you forever. cass and i just want to see you happy and i think being with him is what you want. so if it really is, you should wear it.” ramona gives the jersey a little tug.

you know you’re going to now, and you decide you don’t care what anyone else thinks about it. it’s between you and him, and if the people you trust most support you, then nothing else matters.

“i…i will. and thanks, really. you always help clear my head.” you nudge her a little with a grin.

“of course,” she wraps a hand around your arm so she can start pulling you toward the door, “now hurry up, because we’re on the verge of being late and cass is waiting!”

being away from the rink this long makes the lights somehow feel a hundred times brighter. they’re beating down on you as you and your roommates make your way to your seats, the same ones that you’d become accustomed to ever since that first game.

it’s been a while since you’ve felt quite this many eyes on you, and it’s insanely unsettling. you focus on navigating the steps below you, because you know if you don’t you’ll fall and make yourself look even worse.

it’s at least loud, considering they’ve got all the music going for warm ups. you’re glad you can’t hear the crowd of students whispering about how pathetic you are, or how stupid you’re acting.

maybe it’s true, but you’re beyond that now. you’re willing to get hurt again, even though you hope with all of your heart that the day never comes, because you’ll regret it forever if you don’t try.

people make mistakes. but they only get one chance to make it up in your book, and this is chris’s chance.

so you square your shoulders and try to wear the jersey with pride as you guys finally arrive in the front row, even though it’s difficult to act confident.

fake it till you make it, or whatever they say.

your eyes find him skating around almost immediately, like they’re just naturally drawn in his direction. you suppose that it shouldn’t be surprising, at least not after watching so many games.

the way he moves is different; he’s smooth, always one step ahead, like he’s playing an entirely different game. it’s easy to spot, because he’s somehow the most fluid and the most aggressive on the ice.

you watch as chris skates back to the blue line, circling their half of the rink while they all take practice shots. that’s when he looks over at your section, and you can see the relief wash over his face when he spots you.

he nods, and you can see a devilish smile forming on his face as he snaps the puck into the net once again. it makes you uneasy when the rest of the team starts to glance at you as well, only to look toward one another after like some sort of signal.

you try to shake it, pretend like your gut is completely wrong, and for a couple minutes you can. they stretch and do more drills and everything seems normal, or as normal as it can be right now.

until they all slow down, gathering around the bench one by one to create a warped huddle. the opposing team is skating off of the ice now with five minutes left of warmups, and you’ve never been more on edge. mona and cass aren’t paying enough attention, so when you look at them in alarm, they’re purely concerned.

“what? why does your face look like that?” cassidy questions.

before you can even begin to explain the weird feeling that’s settled in your bones, the entire BU team breaks as the lights shut off. you can hear the confused murmuring of the fans over the music, which is fading out slowly now.

each of them line up, getting into position as if they’ve practiced a hundred times, forming a pyramid shape in the middle of the ice. chris stands alone in the front, and there’s a microphone in his hand, and—oh god, fuck.

seconds later the spotlight flares over to shine on him, and even though you know there’s no way he can actually see with it directly in his eyes, it still feels like he’s looking right at you.

you watch him gulp nervously, and you’re just as terrified of whatever is coming next.

“uh—hi everyone. i’m your captain, chris, and i wanted to thank each and everyone one of you for coming out tonight.” he starts off, trying to brush away his fear.

though the crowd is still obviously confused, they’re applauding regardless due to their special recognition. on the other hand remain completely still, trying to avoid panicking so publicly.

“what the fuck is he doing?” mona whisper shouts in your direction, and all you can do is shrug even though you know where he’s going with this.

somehow, you can just feel it in your gut.

“seriously, you guys are beyond amazing. you’re the reason playing here is so incredible,” chris smiles charmingly as the noise dies down, pausing dramatically for a moment before continuing, “but i’m actually standing out here tonight like an idiot because there’s somebody in this crowd that i need to apologize to.”

your stomach falls to your feet, and you can’t do anything besides stare out across the rink at him. he’s looking your way again, brilliant blue gaze still able to pick up on exactly where you are, and you feel a shock course through your veins.

“i did wrong by her, and i’ve been kicking myself every day since. she’s the most radiant and passionate person in every room, and she’s also the only reason i’m even here in this arena today. the truth is that i love her, which is why i think it’s time to turn the tables and embarrass myself a little bit to prove that. plus you guys get a heck of a show in the process.” he jokes, earning some apprehensive chuckles in response.

chris clears his throat, trying not to let his voice crack. despite what you think, he actually can see you through the brightness, which makes his heart leap to his throat. “so to the girl of my dreams, i’m sorry. and i hope this shows you that i meant it when i said i’d never stop fighting.”

every single part of you is screaming in a way you can’t explain; you’re completely entranced, but in the same way that people can’t look away from a car crash.

the audience chatters as the lights go out again, but it doesn’t take long before ain't too proud to beg starts playing to cut them off. you recognize it immediately, and now you can’t help but crack a smile.

this was the song you listened to most when you’d drive around in his car, singing along together with the heat blasting on your way to nowhere in particular. you can’t hear it anymore without thinking about him.

the stadium ignites in a dreamy red glow, and each member of the team begins skating in slow circles, kicking their feet out lightly to the rhythm. chris remains up front, gliding around as if he’s walking on clouds.

he tries not to look at you too much, because this moment is about putting himself on display, but his attention darts to you every couple of seconds. you’re clearly stunned, but he sees the small grin on your lips, and that lights the fire he needs to go all out.

“i know you wanna leave me, but i refuse to let you go,” chris begins, voice surprisingly strong as he glides around, “if i have to beg n’plead for your sympathy, i don’t mind ‘cause you mean that much to me.”

you can hear people starting to sing along, and you amaze yourself by joining in for the chorus as well. cassidy and ramona sway beside you, both shaking you lightly as they try to contain their shrieks of delight.

“ain’t too proud to beg, and you know it, please don’t leave me girl.” he belts out, unable to contain his happiness when he sees your reaction.

his team continues to dance on the rest of the ice, leaving the middle for him as they goof off, each adding their own personal flair to the simple choreography. you laugh when you see connor and ben doing the robot at each other, simply because they look so damn stupid.

“ain’t too proud to plead, baby baby, please don’t leave me girl.” chris holds the mic between both palms, shaking his hands in prayer as he skates backwards suavely.

the beat swells as the jazz blares through the speakers, and they all line up across the center of the ice. there are tears in your eyes as chris joins them, arms all linked over each others shoulders as they begin a rockette kick line.

despite how insanely unsafe it probably is to do on skates, they’re all killing it. the whole stadium is roaring now; laughter, cheers, chanting along, you name it. you’re amazed, eyes flashing along with the glowing atmosphere.

having him serenade you with this song, in front of all of these people, is something you never thought possible.

there’s an exhilarated expression on his face, still completely focused on you as he sings his heart out, and it makes you completely weak. his defined features are as striking as ever, cheeks flushed slightly from the adrenaline of it all.

he’s the same handsome boy you thought you knew, and yet here he is, surprising you again.

you’re bouncing around as the song nears the end, only for chris to come skating forward from the others so he can slide on his knees across the rink, headed your way. it’s so dramatic and so fucking silly that you’ve got a stitch in your side from laughing.

for a moment you just look at each other, separated only by the plexiglass wall, and everything else in your mind quiets. you no longer hear the anxious thoughts, or the crowd, or even your friends screaming beside you.

chris’s chest heaves as he finally relaxes, lowering his outstretched arms so that he can shrug bashfully, as if he’s asking you what you think.

you shrug back, but you’re beaming so hard that your true feelings are on display regardless. you can see his matching teary eyes, and truly for the very first time, neither of you care about anyone else.

he’s fucking whipped, and he’ll tell everyone in the world without a second thought. you’re certain of that now, and so is he.

finally, chris pushes himself up and holds the mic back to his mouth, one arm out as he waves to the sea of people. “thank you everyone! get loud tonight, and as always go terriers!”

they all skate off the ice, and you see his friends embracing him in excitement as they head back to the locker room. chris takes one final look over his shoulder, and you give him a wave of encouragement.

he disappears and your attention finally turns to your friends, their mouths still hanging open from the rather electrifying show.

“i can’t believe…i mean he just…” cassidy tries to form a sentence, but ends up pressing a hand to her lips instead.

“that kid is so fucking in love with you, wow.” ramona giggles to herself.

you’re about to object, but you know she’s right. and after that display, there’s certainly no point in arguing about it, because then you’d just be giving some shitty explanation.

before you can even start babbling, your phone vibrates in your pocket and you freeze again. you know who it is, but your heart is pounding against your ribcage as you check anyways.

chris

we’ll talk after?

it's the first text from him in weeks that you’re going to respond to, the first of many you suppose. that makes you smile as you type out an answer.

y/n

only if you win :)

and he does. he does win. in fact, chris went out there and played probably the best game of his entire career.

a hat trick, which he’s never done in his life, all for you.

the team is electric, and he knows the party will be coming back to his place as they all rage in the locker room after the game. it was incredible, and this moment with them is great, but the only person he wants to see is you.

so he slips into the hallway, already dialing your number as the door finally swings shut to contain some of the noise.

you pick up on the first ring.

“i won.” chris states immediately, and he can hear the grin in his own voice.

“you did.” you respond.

it’s a lame attempt at being coy, and you both know it. he leans his shoulder up against the wall, shaking his head even though you can’t see it.

“three goals was pretty impressive, huh? probably worth talking to me over, at least in my opinion.” chris teases, and your laugh gives him butterflies.

you glance over at your friends, who try to look busy as you all wait for the bus, though it’s very clear that they’re trying to eavesdrop. “i can’t disagree there, captain.”

he snorts before he can help it. “so does that mean you’re coming over?”

it seems like an eternity before you answer, even though it’s maybe five seconds total. “yeah, i’ll see you at home.”

when chris confronts the locker room once more he tries to part ways with everyone graciously, but they can see through him. he can’t get out of there quick enough, and yet everyone is just as excited to watch him leave.

none of them have ever seen him like this. he’s never seen himself like this, and despite being horrified of that in the past, there’s nothing holding him back anymore.

he tries not to get too antsy on the drive home, and you’re buzzing equally as much as you chat with your friends.

chris keeps working himself up even thinking about being close to you, about actually getting to belong to you. he’s missed having you in his hands, in the most innocent and sinful ways possible.

he beats you back by a few minutes, so he hangs around in the front yard like a dog, kicking at the dirt to try and distract himself.

by the time you come walking down the street, laughing along with cassidy and ramona, he feels like his heart is going haywire. your face coming into focus under the street light only makes it worse, because you look so damn perfect.

when you catch sight of him your expression transforms immediately; you’re somehow more visibly timid, but he can also tell that you’re dying to speak.

“‘sup chris?” cassidy nods, arms crossed over her chest as she turns with ramona toward their house.

“pleasure to see you ladies again.” he charms, giving a little two finger salute.

they both giggle and wave him off, whispering amongst themselves as they leave the two of you alone. its just like his first time ever laying eyes on you, because he’s equally as entranced as he was three years ago.

“hey.” he takes a couple steps forward, hands still in his pockets.

you can tell he’s actually a bit reserved, which surprises you. chris has always been good at reading you, at calling you out, and it’s hard to believe that he can’t pick up on the fact that you’re so far beyond gone.

“hi there.” you smile and get a little closer, and he almost falls to his knees.

a few more paces forward and you’d be face to face, so close that his nose would probably brush against yours. so he moves, one foot at a time, just to give you the opportunity to say no.

but you don’t, and you know that you never will, so you ask him the one question on your mind. “do you really want to talk?”

chris blushes for what seems like the millionth time, shaking his head slowly.

“what do you think?”

he’s towering over you a bit now, stopped only a couple inches away to keep some semblance of space. you don’t want it, and he doesn’t either, so you reel him flush against you by the waistband of his sweats.

“i think you should tell me you love me one more time.” you tease, drinking in the intoxicating smell of that goddamn dior.

chris leans in the rest of the way so his mouth is hovering over yours, even though it’s suffocating to do so. “i love you. i’ll say it as many times as ya like, princess.”

your stomach is flipping. you can’t help it anymore.

so you kiss him. you wrap your arm around his torso and you pull him as close as possible and you just fucking kiss him.

he’s already melting into you, hand tangling in your hair instinctively to tug. it’s sloppy, heated, everything you’ve been holding back for weeks. tasting your signature chapstick is enough to get him all bothered, to the point where it’s embarrassing.

it’s the start of something new, all while you’re standing in the same fucking driveway where this really began.

you pull away completely breathless, though you don’t wait to slip your hand into his. chris stumbles slightly over his feet as you pull him along, a little taken aback by the change in pace.

“what, can’t keep up?” you joke as you ascend the porch with him in tow.

he finds his balance quickly, though, hot on your heels now. his palm comes down to slap your ass playfully as you’re headed through the front door and you shriek out a laugh.

“i do just fine, thank you very much.”

he’s quick to reattach himself to you, so quick in fact that you’re barely able to close the door behind you.

it’s honestly hard to even get up to his room because of how much he’s all over you; kissing your neck from behind, running his hands over waist, dragging his fingers up and down every part of your body.

chris has missed you for too long to let any second go to waste. you’re giggling in between tiny little breaths of pleasure, attempting to hold them back some, but he wants to hear more.

you carelessly stagger into his room and he kicks the door shut behind him before breaking away. chris finally takes a moment to pause so that he can turn you around and admire you.

“you know what you do to me in that jersey, seeing you out there wearing my name.” chris growls, sliding his hands underneath the synthetic material to grip your warm skin.

you push your hips to him harder, smirking when you feel his hard-on press against your lower stomach. “mhmm, you gonna do anything about it before everyone gets back?”

his hands travel higher at this, skimming up the sides of your body as it bunches up around your chest. you get the message, so you lift your arms to help him take it off only for him to toss it to the floor a second later.

“fuck ‘em…i wanna take my time with you.” chris brushes your hair over your shoulder gently.

you try not to shiver. the anticipation is killing you as he cups the side of your neck, forcing you to retreat slowly until your legs meet his bed. his chest rises and falls heavily while he looks at you, familiarizing himself with every detail again.

you take the next step and sink down, laying your back against the mattress. your hair is like a halo around you, and chris shakes his head slightly.

his knee comes in between your legs to make room for himself, and you’re turned on just watching him devour you with his eyes.

“y’look like a fuckin’ angel.” he sighs, planting his arms by your shoulders so he can hover above you now.

you tilt your head, daring him to capture your lips again. “you gonna treat me like one?”

“long as you act like one.” he taunts back.

without a second thought you fasten your legs around his waist, pulling him right against your core so you can really feel. those tight little yoga pants don’t hide your warmth, and chris lets out an involuntary groan.

“fine, have it your way.”

he shifts his weight so he can wrap one hand around your throat, and the pressure is so enjoyable that you place your own palm over his to let him know it.

your other one travels to the back of his head, gripping his roots as his mouth connects with your neck harshly.

he’s leaving his mark again, not caring how childish it is to be putting hickies in this spot specifically. chris wants everyone to see them, to know that it’s real this time, and you’re his.

you selfishly don’t care either. neither of you have said the words yet, but you’re together, and it excites you that everyone will be able to look at the proof.

he lingers in every spot, working his way to your collarbone as he rocks against you. you’re a whining mess, his hard bulge rubbing against your center perfectly, and it only gets worse when the fingers around your neck move to squeeze your tits.

the fact that your bra is unlined makes it even more arousing, the lace brushing against your hardened nipple as he pinches one between his pointer and middle.

“missed you so much.” he grumbles, his hot breath fanning across your skin while he drags his lips down further, sliding his body through your legs, “you were driving me insane.”

the kisses he presses against your stomach makes you tense slightly from the sheer amount of butterflies. chris gets closer and closer to the top of your pants, lowering his body far enough to kneel at the side of his bed.

he finally abandons his position briefly so he can look up at you through his lashes. you’ve never seen a prettier goddamn sight.

“tell me you need me, baby.” he challenges, and you’re dying to have him touching you again in any way.

“i need you, chris. so bad, please.” you beg, squirming slightly to try to get closer.

but he keeps you where you are, slowly pulling the silky material down your hips, mouth trailing along every part of you as he goes. you gasp at the sensation, only unhooking your ankles for a second to allow him to fully tug them off.

he doesn’t hesitate before he clutches the outside of both of your legs and tugs you toward his face, keeping them planted around his shoulders as his elbows dig into the mattress.

“that’s what i thought.” chris smirks, leaving more tantalizing kisses up the middle of your thighs.

your breath hitches the closer he gets, his stubble scraping your skin slightly as he ventures on. your fingers tangle in his roots when his lips finally trace along the seam of your panties, which are already humiliatingly damp.

one of his hands reaches further over your hips to shove them to the side, and feeling his fingers brush you even slightly makes you shudder just a bit.

“fucking do something.” you’re the one pleading now, though not as publicly.

chris’s laugh fans across your wetness, and goosebumps crawl their way up your skin.

“been waiting for those words.”

finally, he presses his lips against your core and you mutter a soft incoherent curse. his tongue slips out to glide across the delicate skin, for just long enough that your back arches off of the comforter.

he groans and you feel it vibrating right through you. chris has been craving you for so long, and he wasn’t sure he’d ever be in this position again.

he’s already completely pussy-drunk, because his plan was to draw it out, really make you tick. but he can’t hold back; he got a taste and now he’s eating like it’s his last time, nose bumping your sensitive bud as he teases your entrance.

“shit—chris!” you cry out, gripping his hair harder in your knuckles.

he murmurs again in appreciation, because he’s always loved the feeling, and you quiver slightly from the sensation. it’s too much all at once and yet it’s never enough.

your legs instinctively tighten around his head as he works his tongue up and down fully, making sure he hits every tender spot over and over. it’s magic, however he does it.

you can feel the climax brewing in your stomach as your toes curl slightly, and chris notices your body beginning to shake more frequently.

it was gentle at first, but he’s since picked up the pace, forcing you to grind down on his face as he clutches your around his head. his fingers slide over a bit more, applying pressure to your bundle of nerves in consistent circles.

“oh fuck, gonna make me cum baby.” you barely manage to get it out between moans.

hearing you call him baby only spurs him on, his own erection begging to be freed as continues to work your cunt.

the combined pressure has you whimpering in satisfaction, head thrown back which you know is effectively messing up your hair. your eyes are screwed shut now, lips parted because you can’t seem to stop making noise.

“that’s it, sweetheart. you love my mouth so much, huh?” he pauses only for a second to goad, fingers still deliberately switching paces to draw out the ecstasy.

but then he buries his face again, flicking over your clit at the fastest speed of the night. it’s probably the most intense he’s ever been and you gasp, your breath catching in your throat before a loud whine escapes.

the stimulation is finally too much and you can’t hold back, muscles constricting as you reach your high.

chris doesn’t stop for the entire ride down, though his tongue does grow lazier as you finish for the first time of the night. he doesn’t want to let go of you, finally breaking his contact with your core only to press his wet lips against the inside of your thighs once again.

“jesus christ.” you pant, finally releasing his fluffy hair from your grip.

he chuckles slightly, peppering kisses across your legs until he’s content. “m’not done with you yet. strip.”

even though you’re still hazy from the first round, you’re surprisingly quick to follow direction. you arch your back more and unhook your frilly bra, chucking it somewhere behind you.

chris finally stands back up from his spot on the floor, and you make quick work pushing your underwear down your hips and kicking them off as he watches.

“look who’s finally listening.” he jokes with a grin.

you roll your eyes, and then a new impulse takes over; you want him to know who he belongs to now. so you sit up with him in between your legs, which surprises him enough that he’s still for a moment.

you take the opportunity to mess with the hem of his tee, slowly sliding your palms underneath and up his stomach.

“i showed you mine.” you hint, ghosting your lips over his now-exposed torso.

this time chris is the one obeying, pulling his shirt the rest of the way for you. his dick is right up against your chest, clearly straining through his sweats at this point.

you let your hands wander back down his body, nails skimming along his happy trail until you reach the top of his pants. he’s quick, yanking them down with his boxers and shoving both further away on his floor.

“really wanna ride you.” you whisper, palming him just enough.

he groans at the gentleness of your touch; he’s extra sensitive now that he’s completely exposed. precum is already leaking from his tip, so you swipe your thumb across it and his hips buck a bit in response.

you slide the slick across his shaft, pumping slowly because it’s your turn to provoke him.

“i’d literally do anything you asked.” chris can hear how weak his voice is as he caresses your hair, and he’s genuinely concerned that his eyes have permanently become hearts.

you look up at him, craning slightly to rest your cheek in his palm, and he swears he could cum right then until you pull your hand away.

“lay down.” your voice is low, sultry, and he’s hypnotized.

all he can do is move on your command, shifting past you to sprawl out across his bed, erection slapping against his waist. he barely has time to settle on his pillows before you’re crawling his direction, tossing a leg over his lap so that you can straddle him.

chris hisses out a prayer, hands going to your hips as your wetness comes in contact with his. you’re hovering, enticing him even more as you lightly slide against his base.

“quit—aahhh—teasing me.” he hums, grinding his own erection up against you harder to try and help himself out.

“can’t handle it?” you smirk, even though the truth is that neither of you can bear the torment of taking it slow.

“you’re a lot to handle.”

you know he’s messing around, but your palms press against his shoulders nonetheless so you can lift yourself a bit higher, which makes him whine in protest at the loss of contact.

you shake your head slightly, a patronizing grin finding finding its way to your face. “better get used to it, pretty boy.”

then one hand wraps around his pulsating cock, pressing his swollen head against your lips before you sink down onto it in its entirety. chris whimpers out a muddled sentence, and tight swears fumble out of your own throat as he stretches you out.

chris is overwhelmed by the rush of having you wrapped around him. you haven’t even started moving; you’re just letting him take it in, the same way that you are as he floods your senses.

“so goddamn perfect for me, fill me up so good.” you praise, finally starting to rock your hips at a grating speed.

the compliment gets to his head, and he didn’t think it was possible for you to turn him on more than you already do. he’s rutting into you seconds later, matching your pace instinctively just like you knew he would. you’ve never been bare with him like this, and you lean into the thrill as much as possible.

the passionate tempo helps ease you into his size, though you’ll admit you’ve missed the delicious sensation of having to break yourself in.

chris chokes on his breath, his fingers digging into your sides hard enough now to leave a bruise. “holy shit.”

his words spur you on and you start to really bounce, skin slapping skin as you both try to contain the sounds of pure bliss falling past your lips.

you spread your legs even wider, which allows you to feel every bulging inch of him pounding into you. your nails rake down his abdomen, leaving little lines of red in their wake.

he can’t get enough of the way you fold around him, and it finally crosses his mind that there’s nothing protecting you.

“condom.” chris grits through his teeth, not slowing his momentum despite what he just said.

“buy me a plan b after, need you raw.” you reply quickly, voice pinched as your chest heaves.

you’ve never been careless like this, and it definitely won’t happen again. but right now, having nothing standing between the two of you is all you’re craving. he’s relishing it, truly being skin to skin.

his hands travel to clutch the curve of your ass, helping slam you down so he can hit the right spot, and even now it’s still not close enough. he adores you too much; it’ll never be enough, because he’s always going to want more.

he’s gasping at this point, trying to keep his eyes open just so he can watch you in all your glory. it’s dim in his room and you’re perfectly backlit, tits bouncing as your hair flits around your face.

you’re the most gorgeous thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

every stroke feels better than the last, and your stomach flips each time he drives himself into that sensitive area. you’re clenching hard now, tugging on his cock rhythmically to the point where he’s twitching inside.

“oh-h my god, fuckin love you. my pretty girl.” chris groans, addicted to the excitement of saying it out loud.

that familiar fire burns in your gut, somehow more fierce than the first. you’re tensing again, trying not to get too careless with your pace as your whimpers grow in intensity.

“m’close—i can’t…” you stutter, brain jumbled with incoherent thoughts.

he props his own legs up slightly, using the last bit of his strength to buck into you. he draws out every last second, because he’d live right here forever if he could.

“give it to me, princess, don’t hold back.” chris prompts breathlessly, his vision blurring as his climax rapidly approaches.

your hips connect sloppily a few more times and it crashes over the both of you at once. the room echos with pants and moans of gratification, a thin layer of sweat painting your skin as you come down from your second orgasm of the night.

you feel him release too, painting your walls in a divine warmth that you’re not used to. you’re so strung out that even the tiniest bits of friction you’re still receiving have you gnawing on the inside of your cheek to control yourself.

finally both of your movements slow to a stop, letting the moment settle for a moment as you catch your breath.

you’re closer that you were before, practically chest to chest with him aside from your hands, so you tilt your forehead to his and give him a gentle peck.

“i’m obsessed.” he mumbles against your mouth before you pull away.

you smile, slowly shifting off of him so you can force yourself into the crook of his arm instead. “you’re just figuring that out now?”

“i always knew, trust me.” chris banters, wrapping his bicep around you to pull you tighter against his side.

you sigh as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head. “so this is real? we’re actually together?”

“if you’ll have me, but i’m yours either way.”

he’s so open, so quick to admit how he actually feels, and it’s everything you’ve been waiting for.

“good, because i’m kind of in love with you and i’ve never been a sharer.”

he chuckles at this, and it already feels so natural. everything has fallen into place, and you're just glad you’re not wasting any more time not experiencing this.

“but you’re not fully forgiven until you buy me that plan b, seriously.” you poke his side playfully and this time you both laugh.

“i think i can make that happen.” chris responds sarcastically, unable to fight the permanent smile that seems to be taking over his features.

every part of him is so content, and it’s the most alive he’s ever been. you bring him to life.

he’s not sure he’ll ever understand how he got lucky enough to fight his way back into your world, but he’ll never take it for granted.

it’s always been you, the bewitching girl next door.

@fawnchives @55sturn @luverboychris @teapartyprincess4two @pinksturniolo @mattinside @stonermattsgf @impureals @chrisactualwife @fikefries @riasturns @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @beijhe @gnxosblog @braindead4l @orangeypepsi @ponyosturniolo @cupidsword @rainydayenthusiast @sturnvvz @wurlibydominicfike @poopydroopt @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner @rubyjanexxx @reallykaz @neatcarrot767 @kirby0strombolli @bunnysturns @junnniiieee07 @hrt-attack @sturnssmuts @stunza @beccaluvschris @asturniolos @slutz4sturniolos @mattslolita @alorsxsturn @sturnrc @chrissystur @kellsbells-18 @realqueenofpepsi @snowysosturn @secretfangirly @x0x0bunny @amelia-sturniolo3 @pvssychicken

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #fluff to smut

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missshirophantom · 3 months ago

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Yandere Alphabet Sebastian Solace

From the author: hello everyone. I apologize for the abrupt disappearance after the first posts. There was a lot of shit going on in real life. And now especially, especially when I almost had a panic attack. This post... a small attempt to somehow cope with all the emotional problems. Ahem, I apologize for the mistakes, because English is not my native language and I used a translator. Yes, and I just got over it now... Tears, that's it. If I feel better (and a positive reaction will be enough), then I will write a small sketch using this post.

Warning: dr#g use without consent, threat of broken bones, threat of bondage, slight isolation, hint of c#nnib#lism. If you are for the fact that yandere Sebastian is gentle or dark, then you are absolutely not here. The author does not approve of the above written in real life.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

— Due to so many years of literal torture and DNA implantation, Sebastian has forgotten how to show love and affection. At least, that's what many people imagine.

— Thanks to vague memories of his past, he often gives "gifts". These are usually very rare deceased marine life that he found while exploring the complex. Most often, he drags soft objects such as pillows and blankets to another person.

— It is worth considering that he will often be... Biting his beloved is not strong, of course, but deep enough and in prominent places so that the bite mark remains as long as possible.

— In rare moments, Sebastian can clamp his beloved with his tail and hands, preventing them from moving. Such moments last quite a long time — from several hours to even days. But don't be afraid, he will feed you.

— About feeding... Sometimes Sebastian intentionally brings dead marine life and forces the beloved to eat them raw, saying that he did not find a normal meal for you, and that's all he found, and there is no necessary equipment to cook.

— And I. Don't even think about giving up this "meal", because he can get very angry at you the longer and more persistently you refuse.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

— This case can be described as follows: rarely, but aptly.

— Sebastian hates people, especially getting dirty in their blood. But when the threat is directed either at him, or at the beloved, or at his refuge, then... Yes. It's better not to see it. In particular, you don't need to know where that poor guy's body goes next.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

— Despite his hatred of people, which he skillfully hides by contacting them in his store, especially if you are a person yourself, but in moments of his bad mood, Sebastian can mock you. Especially when you are trying to escape or are somehow stubborn, protesting against his actions and the like.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

— It all depends on how his beloved behaves. If they try to escape more than once, he will give them a "medicine" in order to keep them in a sluggish and weakened state in the shelter.

— Well, he also locks them in a shelter while he goes out to get supplies. For good behavior, they may not even tie you up and tie you to the railing of the stairs.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

— It's not much... It is difficult, especially when Sebastian vaguely remembers his life before his arrest and experiments.

— But if he is in a good mood, he can talk about his past. Especially about his cat, whom he misses.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

— Definitely an annoyance. And the stronger and longer the beloved resists, the stronger his irritation, turning into anger.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

— Sebastian does not consider this a game, even though he finds it funny to watch the escape attempts of the beloved and their plans for this. But still, he is serious that even for the sake of his "fun" he does not allow another to escape.

— So, yes. the DNA of the same white shark, which awakens in him the instincts of pleasure over the attempts of another to escape.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

— Oh, definitely quite strong and a decent dose of "medicine" if the beloved misbehaves for too long. Sebastian rarely uses physical punishments. Except when he is very, very driven. Then he will definitely break a couple of bones in his legs.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

— Sebastian just doesn't know. The arrest and experiments forced him to think about the present, not the future. Especially when there is a looming danger over him because of his mutations. And not only that.

— But somewhere in the tender moments with his beloved, he definitely thought about having a family with them. And also a safe place where they both don't need anything and no one bothers them.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

— As long as the other person does not speak directly and flirt, or God forbid, does not try to touch the other, then Sebastian is ready to be patient. And if any of this happens, he immediately throws this person out of his store and forbids him to come back. Believe me, this is the mildest thing he can do in bouts of jealousy.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

— Believe it or not, but it's pretty good, let it depend on the mood. Sebastian definitely likes to hold his beloved with his tail and sleep in this position, curled up in the "nest". Bite them, thereby marking them. As it was written above, he gives, albeit sometimes gloomy gifts: dead marine life, someone's bones. But it's definitely nice to get the same pillows and blankets from him. On particularly "lucky" days, he may even bring some simple puzzles, blank paper, and writing supplies. Or even the clean clothes of the employees! And also, as it was written, he definitely likes to watch the beloved eat the food he brought.

— However, do not try to annoy him in any way or, God forbid, make him angry. And even if nothing serious happens for the first time, it's better not to push your luck.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

— He will definitely compose a little poetry and read it to you. But mostly his love language, if you can call it that, is gifts, not particularly frequent physical contact, as well as... preening when Sebastian's mood is definitely high. He likes to mess with the hair of his beloved, untangling tangles with his claws and cleaning them from dirt. But it's definitely somehow caused by injected DNA and getting some instincts. Well, Sebastian can also be a good gentleman.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

— Yes. Quite a lot if you continue to test his patience.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

— It varies depending on how much his patience is exhausted. If he speaks from the most harmless to severe punishment, then it goes something like this: stronger and deeper bites that leave a scar; short-term deprivation of food; small doses of "medicine"; medium doses; a large dose; broken bones, usually legs.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

— Freedom, defined. Sebastian will definitely lock the beloved in the shelter while he goes on business. But even without that, he still has no intention of letting them out of his sight, especially when they are not the first to try to escape or behave badly.

— It will also definitely monitor your meals with extreme care and sleep patterns.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

— Surprisingly, he is quite patient. But even such patience has its limits.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

— Sebastian will refuse to believe that their beloved has died. By that time, he will have time to get very attached and it will be a blow to him. So be prepared for the fact that he will simply lose the remnants of his humanity and will babysit your body by locking himself in a shelter.

— Well, if it's an escape... It won't be difficult for him to find you. He knows this place like his own... "Five" fingers. Plus, his senses are highly developed, as are his newfound instincts.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

— Definitely not for both questions. And even if Sebastian hated people and if you are a person yourself, he will not let you go.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

— After the accusation that he did not commit, years of experimentation on him, torture, as well as the loss of some memories, you evoke in him... Something really different and new, amidst all this hatred and irritation. This feeling made him relax a little, feel the warmth in his chest and just made his barely controlled instincts calm down.

— You can say that he is really curious. Plus... Years of loneliness in this cruel situation are making themselves felt.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

— Definitely a confusion. Why do you want to come back at all? There, on the surface, you will find a much more cruel world than here, next to it. Yes, the conditions here are not so good, but it is much better than sitting behind bars in a dirty cell or, God forbid, being a test subject of these disgusting people.

— Despite the confusion, Sebastian understands these feelings. But he definitely didn't want to watch the situation worsen. He will definitely give you "medicines" to let you forget, but he will not work hard with it. After all, Sebastian does not want to be like the people who conducted experiments on him.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

— Not really.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

— It's definitely that Sebastian has become a monster, without a shred of humanity. Despite everything, he still misses the time when he was human, and these words will infuriate him. Plus, the same flashlight or flash in sensitive eyes. This disorients him for a few seconds.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

— Mentally? Not much. Physically? Quite a lot, and it depends on how much you've exhausted his patience.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

— It depends on a lot of things. From the time you are with him, situations have occurred, especially those related to your life. The longer you stay with him and the more situations there are related to your life, the more he will begin to take care of you. But as for the conquest, this is another story and much longer, because Sebastian lost that normal part of himself, acting on the basis of instincts and vague memories.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

— It depends on the situation.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

— Oh, Sebastian, which is a little surprising, will try to prevent this. He doesn't want a man like you to become even a little bit like him.

#roblox #pressure roblox #sebastian solace #yandere sebastian solace #yandere sebastian #sebastian solace x reader #yandere sebastian solace x reader #roblox x reader #pressure roblox x reader #x reader #gn reader #yandere #alphabet #yandere alphabet #yandere oneshot #oneshot

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kasiers · 4 months ago

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BE WITH YOU — GOJO SATORU

pairing: gojo satoru x reader

synopsis: the summer heat had its own way of being relentlessly cruel, though nothings more cruel to satoru than realizing he's fallen for you

contains: gn!reader, just pure fluff, gojo adores reader, mutual pining, did i mention fluff

word count: 0.6k

Exactly when did Satoru know he liked you? Like isn’t even close to putting it, maybe he’d go as far as to say he loved you.

He’s the strongest, he’s cocky at times sure. And he knows that, he doesn’t just love anybody let alone like them.

Was it during the Tanabata festival? Or was it during the Floating Lantern festival? Oh he was wrong, he knew exactly when he started loving you.

His memory jolts back to that one summer day, under a tree together cooling down. At the time you were both just friends. Or so you kept telling yourselves.

Satoru occasionally let out pants and heaves. In an attempt to cool down, he took a fistful of his shirt and pulled it away from his body. Repeatedly fanning it back and forth to create a breeze against his skin.

You did the same, except you were fanning yourself with your hands. Your back was pressed against the tree bark, sitting down on the grass.

His eyes glance over to you, watching the way you cooled down. He couldn’t help but smile at your determination, even in the cruel heat.

"You practicing for a run or something?," he teased, his tone light but his azure eyes betrayed him.

You laughed softly, the sound like a soothing melody to his ears. "Shut up. You look worse than I do," you retorted.

Satoru’s smile widened, but inside, he felt something he wasn’t used to. He felt a strange tightening feeling in his chest, he had always been confident, always sure of himself. But something about you made him feel... different. More human, more real.

He observed as a bead of sweat trailed down your forehead, your skin glowed under the spots of sunlight filtering through the leaves. He noted the way the sun caught in your hair as well. Your lips looked soft as you smiled slightly, he admired the expression you wore despite the heat.

Your eyes met his, and for a moment, the world seemed to pause.

It was in that stillness that Satoru realized the embarrassing truth. He didn’t just like you, he was utterly and hopelessly in love with you. The realization hit him like a train, his heart beating fast, he swore that if it wasn’t for the rustling leaves, you’d be able to hear it.

For someone who had always prided himself on being the strongest and being untouchable, this feeling was overwhelming. Satoru Gojo, the one who was always in control, found himself utterly whipped. It was like he was seeing you for the first time, truly seeing you, and he couldn’t believe how blind he had been until now.

You glanced over, catching his intense gaze. “Something on my face?” you asked.

He snapped out of his absent mindness, trying to play it cool. “Nah,” he replied, though his voice betrayed a slight tremor. “Just a leaf on your hair.”

You raise an eyebrow, stopping to fan yourself for a quick moment to brush your hair. Irritation visible on your face as you lightly smack his leg, “Liar!”

Satoru chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Relax, just messin’ with ya.”

You roll your eyes, a small smile creeping up on your lips as you continue fanning yourself.

He watched your reaction, and for a moment longer the realization settled in deeper. He was in love with you and it terrified him. He didn’t know he was capable of feeling vulnerable, admitting to feelings that he had never allowed himself to acknowledge. But with you, it felt right.

To him, it was the most real thing ever.

He didn’t need to be the strongest right now, he just needed to be with you.

For now, he was exactly where he wanted to be.

a/n: i really liked this one, i think it might just be one of my favorites that i've ever written.. this one is a bit short but its good :3

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specialgradefckr · 4 months ago

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Heatwave: Day 6

tw: explicit content. 9k+ words. Satoru/Reader. female!omega!reader, alpha!gojo. mutual pining, light angst, YEARNING, so much yearning, PIV, heat/rut sex, minor breeding kink, choking, reader and gojo are switches, gojo is kind of a masochist. intense bickering. you and gojo are both pathetically whipped and in love, and i do mean pathetic

Prompt: Mating cycles are as violent as they are horny, intent to kill is high.

It took some convincing to get you a position as a teacher at Tokyo Jujutsu High School – plenty of traditional fools in charge who thought omegas were better as childbearers than sorcerers.

But you got there. After ten years teaching in public schools, teaching at Tokyo Jujutsu High was what you'd always wanted: small classes with dedicated students who you could form real bonds with.

As a sorcerer, you had the potential to become a special grade – but your true passion was teaching, and it was a far better use of your talents to help the newest sorcerers improve.

Other teachers weren’t quite as gifted in the art of passing on knowledge. Like the special grade sorcerer no one ever shut up about, Satoru Gojo.

He was seven years younger than you – practically a student himself. But somehow, here he was, a teacher alongside you. Nepotism, maybe, combined with how obviously alpha he was – freakishly tall, well-built, and unnervingly confident, used to getting his way.

You’re not certain of his credentials as a teacher. If he has any at all.

If you were forced to guess, you’d assume Gojo had at least a PhD in pissing you the fuck off.

“Awh, c’mon now,” He’d snickered at your implication. “Like it’s hard?”

You could kill him. Actually, cross that out – you will kill him, just as soon as you’re finished riding his stupid big, fat knot to absolute oblivion.

Alphas, for all their pride, are even dumber and hornier than omegas in heat once their rut kicks into high gear and they lock their knot into someone.

You’ll choke him out then, you plan – if that doesn’t just make him roll all six eyes in exaggerated pleasure.

Gojo’s just that kind of complete and utter brat. Even if he is an alpha.

Constantly stalking you from behind, ready to throw his arms around your shoulders in some lazy half-embrace. Lording his stupid height over you, his seemingly endless youthful energy.

“Hey~” He’d drawl, leaning into you, knowing exactly how much the action exposed his scent, “How’s it going with the students? Teach ‘em any new tricks?”

You weren’t some early-twenties dewy-eyed omega; his scent didn’t have any more effect on you than a nice cologne would have. “Yes, I think today went well. They’re bright kids, I’m proud of them.”

“Oho! We should celebrate your success!” Not pleased with your response, he’d squeezed your shoulders close, enough that you couldn’t walk away. “Drinks on me! Let’s head out~”

“Hitting on older women?” You’d returned, shrugging him off so you could walk away, “What, have you successfully repulsed every potential mate of your own age group? Quite a feat, even for you, Gojo.”

“Awh, don’t be like that. I’m just trying to show my support! I know ladies your age tend to get a lot of flak these days, especially from the higher-ups…”

It had been a pretty low blow from him, considering how much he disliked the higher-ups and tradition as a whole. Looking back, that was probably him getting desperate for some kind of reaction.

Like a fool, you’d given it to him.

Spinning, whipping around to tuck your finger beneath his chin, just tickling at his neck, inches from his scent glands.

“Ladies my age don’t go for boys like you, Satoru-kun,” you purr, snatching his chin and pulling his pretty face closer to yours, “And I’ll have you know, I have no interest one-night stands.”

He grins that awful, gorgeous grin with those pretty sparkling eyes. “Now when did I say I wanted anything like that? You’ve got a dirty mind there. I just wanted to get drinks.”

“When did I say you did?” You hold his gaze like you would the leash of a particularly disobedient dog. “I was just letting you know. But since you just want to get some celebratory drinks, I’ll ask Shoko and Nanami to come along.”

Heh. Transparent disappointment flashes across his face, like he’s bitten into a lemon, but he’s quick to brighten up.

“My mistake, I got a little too excited~” He follows alongside you with his stupidly long stride, hands in his pockets, “I was just soooo~ happy to hear you don’t do one-night stands. I’d get super jealous!”

This he says, right after taunting you for suggesting he wanted one? What a little shit.

“Do you also recall the part where I said I wasn’t interested in little boys?” You mutter, texting Shoko and Nanami about the meetup.

You can still feel his presence behind you. Pheromones drifting through your awareness. Gojo’s got such a weird scent for an alpha. Artificial and sour and sweet. Blue raspberry. Electric, just a whiff of it tingles. You lick your lips.

“Yeah, I heard you. Good to know my darling kohai Nanami is safe from your clutches~” He sings.

Fucking insufferable.

The thing about alphas was that they got aggressive when their ruts came around.

From experience you’d known his limitless could be turned on and off at will, and he could allow his scent to drift through it.

Not only was Gojo nearing his rut, he wanted you to know that he was nearing his rut. The air is oozing with his stinging, cloying scent that makes your mouth water. You have to swallow your spit a few times.

So when Gojo insisted that you spar with him, you just knew it was going to fucking suck.

He was going to use it to force unnecessary contact, shove his scent in your face, taunt and tease you while he physically prevented you from leaving.

Then, the million dollar question. Why the fuck did you ever agree to it?

Deep down, you tell yourself it’s to shut his stupid ass up. Because it’ll make for good practice, and that’s not even a lie. Or even just because he’s got a pretty face, and you want eye candy.

You tell yourself it has nothing to do with the heat you know you’re just on the verge of.

Nothing to do with the rut that has him smelling absolutely delectable.

The adrenaline that bursts through your veins as he races towards you is purely from the thrill of combat.

The exhilaration of watching his strike swing through empty air, the slight shock on his face; that’s because you’re proud of your skills.

You’re not panting, teeth bared in an awful grin, arms tightening back to grab him and hold him down, make him yours yours all yours – this is a combat stance.

Not that you wanted to fight him that badly in the first place. Feel his strikes against yours, touch that infinity for yourself. See what he’s offering, that he likes to throw it in your face so much.

It’s not any of that, and you whip out a denial for each thought as it rises like you dodge Gojo’s strikes with increasing desperation. Fast. Fast, so fast, like a blink. Here one moment, there the next.

Focus. On him. White hair, black tracksuit, that little flash of blue you’d see anywhere. You pin your senses on him, on the scent that dances in the air, tempting you. Put every fiber of your being into matching his strikes, which come faster, and faster, until eventually even you can’t dodge them.

White hair. Blue eyes. Pink lips. Pretty, pale face. Pressure down against you, breath, scent, hot in your face. Focus, focus.

Anything to take your attention from the way your thighs want to clench together when he pins you down, nose brushing against yours.

Close enough no infinity could stop you if you wanted to lean forward into the neck showing under his collar and bi-

“You goin’ easy on me?” He practically purrs in your ear. Infuriating.

So you let yourself purr back. Take in his pheromones for just a second, lean into it, relaxing underneath him as you let off an answering scent, laced with the arousal you’re already feeling. Tongue darting between your lips for a moment as you let your eyes linger on his pretty mouth, pretty face.

Gojo’s eyes dilate as your lashes flutter, tilting your lips to –

SLAM

“No,” You sing to his crumpled form, hunched over from the blow to his middle, “I think you’re easy, Gojo. Come back when you’re not a horny little beast about to rut.”

A breathy chuckle comes from him as he situates himself to sit back on his heels, catching his breath.

Unnerving. Everything about this bastard is unnerving. The way he looks up at you, face flushed, grinning with delight – you know for a fact your strike hit hard enough to bruise. Maybe he could heal it, but he was still winded from the impact. It had to hurt, still.

Instead, those too-blue eyes seem to glow at you.

“Easy, huh?” He says, and you pretend he said it to himself. “Actually, I’m pretty hard.”

(You try very hard to pretend you didn’t hear that. To pretend you couldn’t smell it the moment you struck him.)

He licks his lips, taking in a deep breath, like he caught the scent of something he can’t let escape him. Eyes staring after you.

You walk away, before he can catch on to how slick you’ve become, just with this little interaction. What are you, a teenager? Maybe you’re close to your heat, but not that close.

Gojo lets you walk.

You think he knows.

(He definitely knows.)

He loves to taunt you. Alphas love posturing, looking for fights, as soon as their ruts come around. But an omega nearing their heat would snap at anything that so much as breathed wrong. Ready to see everything as a threat, demanding and critical even of those closest to them.

Both secondary genders had… attitude problems during their mating cycles that led to them lashing out. But due to stereotypes, alphas were seen as being dominant and argumentative, whereas omegas were seen as…

“Awh, needy, are we? Must be your heat coming up, huh?”

“Still hitting on older women? Your rut must really have you acting like an animal. Why don’t you do us all a favor and find someone to fuck it out with?” God, just talking about it is fucking annoying.

“Not very mature of you to say, ma’am!” The look you gave him must have spoken volumes, because he immediately responded, “It’s okay, I know how it is. You don’t have to be so shy about admitting it! What omega wouldn’t want a strong, handsome alpha like me to take care of them~?”

“Kill yourself.”

Satoru Gojo had pried words from your mouth you would otherwise be horrified by. And that wasn’t even the worst of it.

The worst of it was he would try to pamper you, just like he claimed you must have needed.

And the worst of that part was that it fucking worked.

He knew all your favorite drinks, snacks, meals. Had things delivered to your desk when even his own moronic self could understand you did not want to see him – always with traces of his scent lingering on the gift.

Papers to grade? Coffee from your favorite café, just the way you liked it.

Indoor from a long training session? Something iced and fruity to sip on.

Back from a stressful mission? A dessert so delectable you double-check to see if Gojo hadn’t already taken a bite out of it himself.

“A little pick me up after all your hard work~ The students always talk about how much they love you. Trying to steal my thunder, huh? Good job, sensei!”

The words are irrationally pleasing to read. And he smells good, it always smells too fucking good, refreshing at the first hint and then invigorating the next. Sweet and sour, just like the bastard himself.

There’s little bits. A ribbon, a traditional little lunch wrapped in a handkerchief, one time he even just shamelessly sets his coat down next to a drink with another note.

“By the way, my favorite jacket got stained while getting you this. Since it’s your fault, you can dry clean it for me, right? Make sure to give it back, I’d miss it so much!”

Awful. Awful terrible man. Giving you every excuse in the book to hoard his scent and pretend you hadn’t. You could be throwing these away, for all he knows. Out of pure spite.

(He knows. He must know that you can’t throw them away, your instincts scream at you, your heat aches and burns. Each little article you get to squirrel away allows you another night of easier rest. He knows it. You know he does.)

It’s infuriating. It’s absolutely fucking infuriating because you know Gojo doesn’t mean it like that. He’s just using this to get to you. Doesn’t want anything more than to fuck the closest and most convenient hole because his rut is coming up. He isn’t pursuing a relationship with you, this isn’t courting, just teasing.

It’d amuse him, too, after. To tease you about it, probably try some weird shit in the classrooms or on missions – he’s got that air about him. Slutty. Down for anything.

It’s infuriating and it’s fucking hot. And devastating, because you meant it when you said you don’t really do one-night stands.

He’s just so unreasonably pretty that you’d thought about it when you met him. The attraction is there, on both ends, but the more you’ve gotten to know him the more certain you are that it’s a bad idea.

Gojo’s a menace already, and as fun as it was to taunt him, having sex with him would just give him more ammunition. He made everything weird.

All the teasing, the uncomfortable chemistry, the not-courting shit, and you’re in heat. Sure, you’d had casual sex before, but during your heat? Fuck that shit.

Because unfortunately, Gojo is right. You get needy.

Not because you’re an omega. It’s because you’re you.

When you spend your heat with a partner it’s like you can’t stop everything from spilling out.

The desire to know and be known in your entirety. To feel and touch and cherish every inch laid bare, to gift yourself like a sacrament to someone who you know will worship you –

See? Unbearably romantic. And you love it, you eat that shit up. It’s deep in you, a wanting you don’t even wish to deny.

The thought of waking up to an empty bed during your heat drove you mad with loathing and heartbreak. Seeing the person you’d allowed to have you in your heat touching someone else? You’d be out for blood.

Alphas get territorial. If an alpha sees someone with their partner, they’re liable to rip the interloper to shreds.

Omegas get possessive. An omega wouldn’t care about someone coveting what's theirs, but they’ll rip that partner to shreds if they suspect they have eyes for another.

It’s funny, how all that nurturing and devotion can turn so easily into equal parts cruelty and violence. To love deeply is to hate deeply, and adoration is so intrinsic to your being that you can’t help but fall hard whenever desire takes you.

You’re a needy little monster, craving love, gentleness, affection. You wouldn’t survive whatever he did after, you might not even survive baring yourself to him, letting the extent of your desire be known.

Gojo would rip your poor, tender, beating heart from your chest. Chew it up and spit it out like trash.

And he’s so, so pretty, and he smells so good, and you love the excitement of your back and forth – you adore him, this Satoru Gojo. You want him so bad you can taste it. But Gojo doesn’t feel it like you do, like a need deep in his bones that aches all the way to his dreams.

You’re seven years his senior, have no exceptional qualities, and he’s got all the options in the world. Gojo’s still so young. There’s no reason for him to want to be tied to you. If he fantasizes at all, it’s about fucking you, knotting you, not of your teeth on his neck or his own on yours.

And you shouldn’t even entertain the idea of him fantasizing about you. You shouldn’t entertain any of these thoughts, because for all the violence your love can inflict on him, Gojo is the one who would emerge unscathed. You’d be left in tatters, and he wouldn’t even have the decency not to step all over them.

You can’t sleep with him. You’ll die, you’ll surely die, it’ll absolutely feel like you’re dying to see that pretty face smile sarcastically, or sneer and turn away. You’ll awaken without his warmth beside you and it’ll feel like your heart is missing from your chest and you’ll have to be reminded of that every time you see him because you work with that fucking nuisance. At your job.

You can’t do it. You can’t. Off limits, no way.

But you’re (regrettably, unfortunately, miserably) needy when you’re in heat. And Gojo is a horny little beast in his rut.

And he knows, he knows he fucking knows. He’s there whenever you turn a corner, walk up to a vending machine, sit down to grade papers. He’s got that awful million watt smile that lights up his entire stupid pretty face when he flirts with you, trades barbs back and forth.

He’s touchy, too touchy, gets too close. Asks to spar with you again and again until you say yes. Leaves you more treats, more drinks, more little gifts the whole while.

Your hands get dry because your heat wakes you up in the middle of the night, you have to touch yourself constantly. Gojo brings you lotion that smells like raspberries (like him).

You’re not entirely sure he hasn’t fucked around and filled the bottle with lotion that’s also laced with his cum. You use it anyways. His reaction makes it obvious that he can tell you have, and he’s pleased by it.

You hate him. You hate him, and you want him. You want him so fucking bad.

You can’t do this. You can’t do it.

Gojo looks at you like he wants to eat you. Like he’s tracking every little twitch, every movement, like a predator and his prey. Like he’s waiting for you to bolt off so he can give chase.

You can’t do this.

You’re not fucking prey. You’ll bite him back, doesn’t this stupid man know?

And he spars with you again and you’re left breathless from dodging him –

(you refuse to be touched by someone who is himself untouchable)

And he smells so so so good up close when he finally tackles you, seizes you, locks your arms up from behind you –

(you love to be held, you dream of being held, in the depths of your heat it’s not being filled that comforts you it’s the thought of pressure like a vice grasping you so close, unwilling to let go)

And his face is so devastatingly beautiful up close, those terrible, magnificent eyes like a sea of stars, staring at you like he’s enraptured –

(god, he’s so pretty, just looking at him has a little dose of glee shooting through you)

And his lips taste as good as he smells –

(sweet and sour, can it really be that bad if the sting is all washed away with the tingle of sugary, electric tang on your tongue)

And he holds you so so tight so close so warm –

(you’re pulsing, aching, throbbing, and you’re so fucking tired of your own fingers and he’s grinding against you so good)

And then you’re in your room, at your door, inches away from your nest with all the shameful little bits and pieces of his scent you’ve stolen away.

(you can’t do this. this man will kill you. he will be the death of you.)

Teeth on your collarbone, huge hands clawing at your shirt, pulling it up. You look down at him, meet his fevered eyes and lust-filled gaze.

His breaths ghost over the skin he’s left wet with kisses and nips. Hungry, so hungry for you. So pretty. You grasp his pretty face with both hands and pull him up into a kiss that’s more teeth than lips.

(You’ll go out fighting.)

When his tongue darts into your mouth you nearly moan at the taste of him. Gojo groans, and he does it openly, hands wide over your ass and clenching at it. You close your teeth against his tongue, not hard, not biting. Just to feel it. Measuring the give.

Gojo nicks himself on your teeth to pull away, a sparkle in his eyes.

“Knew you wanted me.” He pants, licking over your lips, “Wanted this. Could smell you.” Lick, lick. “Taste you.”

Fuck. His eyes are wild and eager and you can smell his arousal already dripping free from him. Slotting one of your legs between his lets you press up and confirm his hardness. He moans at it, purposefully loud.

Massive. He’s massive, hard, and aching for you, so much he nearly howls at the pressure. Clawing your clothes off of you. You’re no better, yanking off his jacket, tugging his shirt up – and he lets you – tossing them into your bed.

“Look at you,” Kiss, kiss, he steals the words between presses of his mouth on your skin, like he has to breathe you and not the air, “Look at that sweet little nest. Helped you with it, didn’t I? Aren’t I just the greatest alpha?”

It’s hard, so fucking hard, to ignore how delight laces through your chest at his words. This nest, this place where you’ve languished for too long already in your heat, now an alpha (your alpha) is here and happy to fill it up (fill you up), curl up in it with you.

“You’re talking too much,” is all you dare to let yourself voice.

You seize his pants and underwear by the waistband, dragging them down his hips. Gojo stumbles, undignified, towards you, but even then, he’s tall enough to press you to fall back into the strategic mess of blankets, pillows, and your hoarded pieces of his offerings.

He’s still grinning as he pins you down. Arms on either side of you. Tall, so tall, so much larger than you. Larger than life. Your beautiful, ferocious alpha, all hard and excited just for you.

“Too bad. I love talking.” Gojo’s eyes stay trained on yours as he mouths over a breast, sucking as much of it as he can into his mouth.

“No, really? Would never have guessed.” the grumble escapes you, and he giggles.

He watches you still, tense, and try not to lean into the sensation as he plays at your nipple with his tongue, teeth. Pulls away with a pop.

You hear him kicking off what remains of his clothes, but you can’t bring yourself to look down.

“I can smell your slick from here,” A hand tracing up the inside of your thigh, “Mouthwatering.”

So wet you can almost feel yourself gushing. His hands are inches away from it. Heavy, warm form bearing down on you as he moves to suck at your other breast. Teasing fingers where your leg joins to your body.

“Is that all your mouth’s good for?”

His laughter had been far too mocking to be endearing, just like his grip on your hips had been just a bit tighter than pleasant, his grin wide enough to be smug instead of sweet.

Wretched and traitorous, your heart lurches at his beautiful face, anyways.

“If you wanted me to show you,” Those blue, blue eyes never leave yours as he trails his face down your body, “You could’ve just asked, babe.”

Your hand finds its way into his hair, which is naturally as soft and pleasant to the touch as you’d dreamed it was. You clench tightly and he rumbles in approval.

“Like it rough, do you, omega?” His breathes, right over your drooling cunt. “Me, too.”

“You’d be so fucking hot,” You pant, “If you kept your damn mouth closed.”

When he laughs again, it feels a little better, but he’s always got to dig in. Pressing kisses to your clit that leave you fighting the urge to kick your legs.

“I’m always hot, baby,” God, it feels so sinful, so good, to have his exhalation ghosting over your slickness, “You’re just all antsy ‘cause of your heat. Let me make you cum, calm you down.”

This has the opposite effect of calming you down and he knew it would. Probably expected you to wrap your legs around his waist while he buried his face in your cunt, digging your heels hard into his sides, like spurs.

“Would be the first useful thing your mouth has done all year.” Gojo snickers against you and it’s annoying how good it feels.

And then he closes his lips around your clit, tongue tracing swiftly all over it, and you couldn’t stop squirming if you tried. Can’t stop the noises that come out of your mouth, spilling out, overflowing, like how the slick just pours from your clenching hole.

He fingers into you, two at once, and it’s embarrassing how little you feel it at all. Two, in and out, then a third, stretching inside you. Spreading them apart inside you. Making these awful wet noises – it doesn’t help that Gojo likes to smack his lips while he eats.

“Tasty. So wet. Did you stretch yourself for me?” He asks between laps at your clit, pressing himself closer to you while you whimper and teeter on the edge, “Got some knot toys to prep?”

“Fuck – Gojo!” Even when you’re trying to snap at him, he makes it fucking impossible, suckling at your clit before you can get the words out.

You cum with a light, airy cry. Short, shallow gasps as your other hand darts down to grasp his shoulder. Clinging.

“I will, I will,” Gojo takes a deep breath, over the wetness of you, making you shiver.

Eyes like blue flame look up at you. Sinful tongue hanging out of his mouth like a dog. Licking sticky lips. “Must’ve been hard, all that time you spent waiting. Don’t you worry, I’ve got a nice big knot ready just for you.”

And god, it’s fucking terrible, how you have to suppress a shiver of delight at his words, as he crawls up your body to be eye-level with you. His cock rubs along your sex, wetting itself so easily it should be embarrassing.

It is big. It’s so big and the knot swelling at the base of it is even better, thick and pulsing and throbbing.

Your stupid horny omega brain wails at the prospect of finally, finally being filled up by something hot and pulsing and living. Strong enough to hold you down and breed you. He’d give you the prettiest kids.

Oh god, oh fuck. Omega brain is seizing the steering wheel right now and you’re fucking terrified of where it’ll take you. You have no idea what you’re going to do when he knots you.

And he WILL fucking knot you if you have to mount and ride him yourself.

He’s grinning. Your instinct screams at you to bite. “I could smell it on you just now, you know. You want me to knot you soooo bad.”

You return his smile with bared teeth, “You want to knot me so bad, Gojo.” You’re still oversensitive when you grind your cunt against him but it’s worth it to see his stupid jaw drop open, “It makes you look fucking stupid.”

Pretty, pretty. He’s so pretty you could cry, and his cock is twitching against you, wet and burning and ready.

“Shut up,” Gojo breathes, close enough for you to smell his tingling scent on his breath, “And take it.”

A snarl builds in your throat, climbs on your lips – only to be knocked away thoroughly by the feeling of his fat head nudging, hot and swollen at your entrance. You’re so slick it feels almost gummy against you.

He drives himself in and you bite back a scream. Instead you let your hands claw down his back, and when they’re far enough down you just reach up to his shoulders again and dig your nails in harder.

The scrape at your fingertips, the way the smooth flesh of his back yields to yours – rough and savage enough to leave his eyes wide and gleaming.

His cock driving into you is like velvet, warm and wet and welcoming, filling an ache that makes you want to cry out.

There’s a stretch, because he’s big, of course he’s fucking huge but it’s the delicious type of stretch, a tight pinch that makes you shudder and clench and pull a moan or two out of him in return.

“See?” He nips at the underside of your jaw. Close, too close, inches away from your scenting glands, licking like he wants a taste, “Just needed some cock to calm you down. Poor – poor little omega, your heat must have been really bad, huh?”

You want to kill him. You want him to fill you up up UP more and more of his cock drives into you, it’s like it’s fucking endless, his knot urges forward at your entrance and the stretch –

“This – hhgh – coming from the beast in rut,” You snarl through strangled moans, “Who’s been throwing himself at me like an animal?”

Your hand in his hair trails down, over the back of his neck, and his whole body jerks at the touch. You’re no better, straining beneath him, talking out loud so you don’t lose your mind as his knot slides home.

“Did you think of me while you fucked your hand, Gojo?” Dangerous territory. Dangerous thoughts. “Did you think about what I’d do to you? About me putting you on your ass while sparring because my scent turned you into a slut?”

He groans, long and laborious. You feel his knot lock in, his head thrown back (neck bared, pretty, pale, so empty and open) as he whines out his release.

It spurts inside you, hot and swelling and heady enough to bring you to a second release as his pelvis grinds against your clit.

“So what if I did?” There’s a challenge in his eyes, bright and sky blue and heart-rendingly beautiful in his blissed out state.

Something churns in your chest, something feral and wanting and you should know better but you can’t stop it now –

“Always think of me,” the demand leaves your lips before you can think of it, “You’ll always think of me when you touch yourself now, Gojo, you won’t be able to cum without it.” Before you know it, you’re purring, both from the afterglow and the words you’ve spoken with such misplaced confidence.

He thrusts lightly into you, a short useless movement which just makes you both more aware of his fat, swollen knot as it pumps his cum into you. Gojo purrs back at you, a warm rumble you can feel all throughout his form pressed against yours. His face against your chest, rubbing it – scenting you.

Your arms curl around him. Hold him close. “Never think of anyone else. Only me.”

The only response is louder purring. It’s painfully pleasant, comfortable, with the length of him pressed against you, his knot buried inside of you.

His eyes are half-lidded, dragging his parted lips over your skin. It’s too lazy and slow to be called a kiss, but the intimacy of It burns a trail across your skin. He licks at your neck in broad strokes and you mindlessly loll your head to the side, baring it for him.

Both of you content in the silence, sated by your climaxes. The first of many. A lull where you lie locked together so perfectly, enjoying the sinful trickles of his cum filling you up while his knot slowly deflates.

Naturally, Gojo can only let a good thing last so long.

“Never think of anyone else, huh?” His voice is unbearably smug, and smooth, and all things lovely. “Possessive and needy. What were you going to do if I hadn’t pounced on you?”

It takes you a moment to respond, disgruntled, “Next time you made an ass of yourself while sparring I would’ve just bitten you.”

A laugh; breathless and light. “I thought you didn’t like younger men?”

“A knot is a knot.” You clench around him a bit, just to drive your point home. It makes him spurt a little more into you, scalding hot. He hisses, face flushing.

He’s pretty like this. Then again, he’s always pretty.

“Yeah?” He leans in with glittering eyes, already recovered. “Bet you like my knot best. Bet you won’t want any other after this.”

You already don’t. You love the feel of him inside you, how he fits like a glove, how his knot fills you to bursting. It’s still inside you and you already want to feel it again. You already want him to be yours. All yours, only yours and yours forever.

But this is your asshole coworker who bickers with you, not your fucking boyfriend.

“I want another alpharight now,” You roll your eyes, like saying it would make it real, “A quieter one.”

“Heh.” His smile is as loud as his eyes. “No, you don’t. You wouldn’t let me so much as lick you if you weren’t already thirsting your brains out for me.”

God, are you that transparent? Or can he see through lies with the six eyes, too?

You push yourself upwards – not easy because Gojo’s laid his uselessly long torso against your chest – and the knot’s still mostly lodged in you but there’s enough give for you to push him back until you’re sitting on his lap.

Gojo is leaned against you, resting his body weight against you as he purrs like a careless, cuddly cat.

He doesn’t even flinch when you cup his face between your hands. Lazy, relaxed, content inside you.

“You have a lot of cheek for a brat who got hard after I knocked the wind out of him.” You tilt your head to the side. “Or maybe that’s what you’re hoping for on round two?”

And oh god. This guy can’t be for real. His knot has barely gone down enough to pull out and you feel him twitch inside you, hardening again. You pull him out with a twist of your hips and he actually whines.

He licks his lips. “What do you think?”

His cock flops against you again, hard, ready to go. You let out an incredulous laugh. “I called you a horny beast, I didn’t think you were actually some kind of – breeding whore.”

“Mmmh,” Large hands dart to hold your ass, pulling you closer, “Maybe I am. You’ll let me fuck you, though, so I must be doing something right.”

As dirty talk goes, you could do way better. But it looks like Gojo is just that easy – his scent deepens with excitement, electric on your tongue.

Mouthwatering. Stinging. It reaches deeper into you than you’d like, pulls out an answering tug of longing that spills over your lips before you can stop it.

Hands on his shoulders, over those pretty collarbones, shoving him back. It’s so easy; he falls back for you without resistance. Staring up at you through lowered lashes like an actual seductress.

Satoru Gojo is heartrendingly beautiful, above you or beneath you. It drives you mad.

“Tell me,” You want you want you want, “Tell me how badly you want to fuck me.” Tell me you want me. Tell me you love me. Tell me you’re mine and you’ll never be anyone else’s.

“You said it yourself,” Gojo breathes, “I’m a whore, yeah? A beast in rut, throwing myself at you.”

“Why me?” Tell me I’m the only one who could ever satisfy you. He might be a dumb horny whore of an alpha, but your omega brain is equally delirious for feeding into this delusion. Tell me you want me. Tell me you love me.

His smile is lazy, eyes glimmering, and you get a terrible intuition that he knows exactly what you’re asking, exactly what you want. And he’s not going to give it to you.

“Knew you could keep up.” He answers with a distinct ring of mockery. Fucking brat.

Wrong answer. Wrong. Answer.

Your hands jump to his throat. Squeezing instinctively. Like you can rip the words out of him, the voice that lights every fiber of your being on fire, in all the worst ways. And his neck feels so perfect under your hands. Like it was always meant to be there.

"Wanna bite?" He mouths, somehow smirking at you before his mouth drops into an "O" – you’re grinding against him, hard and careless of his overstimulation.

Those pretty blue irises shrink and dilate wide, shimmering with tears. His face is so pale, lashes such a pretty white that the red on his cheeks stands out all the more painfully. A moan of pleasure ripples under your fingertips, squandered in your grasp.

God, he really is a whore, isn’t he? So eager in front of you, dick out, lashes fluttering, throwing himself at you. Teasing you with his scent, his little gifts. Letting you see him like this. How could he let you see him like this, if he didn’t want to be yours?

Would he be so pathetic and needy for anyone? It sends rage through you, white-hot and yearning. All you can see is him, him, Gojo in all his debauched glory beneath you.

Ruin him. Ruin him for anyone else. Yours, yours, all yours. So much that he can never think of anyone else, like you can only think of him.

You squeeze harder, like you can pull his treacherous, perfect voice out if you can just press hard enough into his singing pulse. Close, close, so fucking close, the pull inside you draws you over his cock, up and down, rubbing against your throbbing clit.

His cock twitches in time with it as you grind away. Blood rushing in your ears, pounding. You’re close. He’s close. He’s going to cum. He’s going to cum outside of you.

Just as Gojo’s eyes squeeze shut, his cock jumping against you – you pull your cunt off, leaving no more stimulation. You don’t release your hold on his throat, hips guided purely by instinct, slotting him against your entrance.

“Don’t you dare,” You hiss, feeling his pulse flutter, “You don’t cum unless you’re inside me. Never.”

Eyes shooting wide to look up at you. His lips part, desperate, passionate, heavy with words that he doesn’t have the air for.

You don’t want to hear it. He’s said enough.

You ride him like you hate him - to be fair, you kind of do.

Slamming down on his dick, just short of his knot. Hunched over him so you can still choke him while you fuck him, see his stupid face contort in shock and bliss as his cock is suddenly enveloped.

His sweet-sour scent practically stings your tongue, heavy with arousal, with lust, with want –

He fills you up so fucking good, he’s infuriating, he’s huge, he’s perfect and why isn’t he yours? Everything inside you screams and all you know is the stretch in your core, the burning need.

So close so close you're almost THERE –

Panting, gasping, you bear yourself down on his knot with a wail, squeezing his neck like a stress toy. It makes him pulse and throb inside you.

Fuck fuck FUCK -

The STRETCH, it fucking burns, Gojo is writhing underneath you. It's like he's bigger than he was last time.

His hands aren’t at his throat but on your hips, pulling you impossibly closer, adding to all the weight that pulls you against him. Tight, hot, so, so fucking big.

“My knot,” You pant, half-feral with desire, “This is my fucking knot, Gojo, my dick, you don't put this in anyone else, do you hear me, ALPHA?"

There’s a rumble in his neck where he might be trying to answer you, but you ignore it in favor of bearing down on him. It's like all your breath leaves you in one big gasp, a whine escaping you as you finally pop the knot in.

You squeeze yourself, impossible, tight, feeling your whole cunt scream with the effort, the delicious stretch of a muscle pushed to its limit. You have him, you have him, you have him in you, all yours. Your core finally surges towards release at the feeling of being filled.

And then you look down at what you’ve captured, your alpha, teary-eyed, red-faced, eyes glazed over in bliss as his lips part to take a breath he can’t manage.

Cock burning inside you, hips bucking up, hands clutching you like a lifeline. Hands so uselessly large that his thumb can reach to roll over your clit.

All at once, you let go. Climax overwhelming you both, his first gasping breath painted with the sudden release.

You want to see his face while you do it, collapsing forward as your breath is stolen from you in waves of white-hot pleasure. Gojo lets out a high pitched noise that he probably shouldn’t be capable of, choking, crying.

“F-fuck,” He half-chokes, half-sobs, racing to clutch you to his chest.

You’ve never seen him so uncomposed, so helpless, your name on his lips, the six eyes blown wide and unseeing. Heat floods your insides as he releases, knot swelling impossibly larger. A squeak escapes you, and you press the side of your face into his toned chest as he holds you close.

You’re smaller than him – most people would be. It’s funny, feeling smaller in his arms. All the fight and fervor trickles away, slowly, like it’s making room for his cum.

Something terribly dark and feral inside you wants to rut against him and make him whimper more, now that he could hear it, but you don’t have the strength.

“Surprised you didn’t bite me,” He muses while he traces mindless patterns over your bare back.

“For what conceivable reason would I have bitten you during that?” His chest is warm, so warm. You’re not paying much attention to what you’re saying, just lazily snapping back at him for stating the obvious. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I literally choked you.”

“Hell yeah you did.” He rubs his cheek against your hair. “It was super hot. Do it again.”

Idiot. You try to ignore the hunger his words ignite inside you, the stupid glee you get from the thought that he likes it just as much as you do. “What, do you want me to bite you?”

“As hot as it would have been to see you take what you want,” God, his grin is just so annoying, and it makes your heart skip a beat, to see that fire in his eyes, “You’d probably feel all bad about it later or some crap. Like you trapped me or something. Which would be super hot, by the way. You have my permission to trap me at any time, especially if I’m sticking my dick in you.”

“Well, now I don’t want you at all,” You lie, blatantly, like a liar.

Satoru snickers, which really isn’t good for your heart. “What, because I’m such a kinky whore, you think I’ve been all used up already? Should I give myself some bruises and hickey sometime to really sell the fantasy?”

That gets an eye roll. “I didn’t degrade you enough while we were fucking, is that it? Had to pick up some slack yourself?”

“Heheh. You sure liked calling me a whore and a slut.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, “What can I say, I’m just that good a lay. Always give the lady what she wants.”

“Sure.” And yet you still don’t have what you want from him.

“You’re the only person I’ve fucked like this, you know.” He says, more softly than he should.

It’s just so unfair. How he makes your heart stumble. How his little admission sends a trill of hope through you.

“Fucked how? During your rut?” He didn’t seem like the type to grin and bear the suffering.

“You know,” He shuffles again, “Like this. For fun.”

“What, I’m the only person you’ve let call you a whore? Choke you? Be more specific, Gojo,” The name tastes bitter in your mouth, “All the other times you just had to lie back and think of England?”

“Well, you’re the first person who’s fucked me that also called me Gojo, for one.”

He really has to ruin everything. “Just shut up. Nothing you say makes me feel better.”

Arms wrap tighter around your waist. “I mean it, though. I was looking forward to this. I never look forward to it. Letting down my technique, fucking some omega until I knotted them.”

You want to bite him, take a chunk out. Pull his hair and rip some of it out of his stupid empty skull. “Gojo –”

“No, listen.” And that’s a tone you haven’t heard before – low, commanding, an alpha’s demand. He hadn’t spoken to you like that once.

“I used to hate it, dread it. The long wait for my knot to go down before I could finally just leave and put everything back up again. Being stuck with some stranger in such an intimate position, feeling them touch me, it was the worst. The absolute fucking worst.”

He nuzzles his head into your neck, like he’s basking in your scent. “This, though? This is the best. I want to do this for every rut, forever.”

Another skipped beat, and that’s it. Your foolish, graceless heart can only drag you through so much humiliation and pining before you rip it out and stomp on it yourself.

“So what?” You lower your voice in return, hard and cutting, “Who says I want to spend all your ruts with you, Gojo?”

“Thought you didn’t do one-night stands.” He smirks at you. You want to punch him.

“What did you think this was?” Did he think you were pining for a relationship while he was just fucking it out? Sure, you were pathetic enough to want it, but you weren’t pathetic enough to expect it. Not on your fucking life.

But then.

There’s the answer, the “A public service for needy omegas~” or some other witty retort. You can already hear his voice ringing in your ears, playful and taunting.

But the sound doesn’t come. Nothing comes at all. Complete silence.

Gojo’s lean, muscled form has stiffened, now rigid against you where it had been relaxed. You can feel his hesitance rippling through the air. His scent is more sour than sweet. Spoiled.

“I thought… you wanted me.” You’ve never heard him sound so uncertain, so afraid. You’ve never heard Gojo sound afraid, period. “I was courting you, and you accepted my gifts, so I – ”

“When were you courting me?” You snap, even though you make the connection instantly. He had given you gifts. He’d spend time with you, given you something with his scent. Paid attention to your needs.

“This whole time?” He sounds like he’s starting to panic, now, “What did you think was happening? We’ve been flirting literally since the day I met you! I might not be the most traditional guy, but I got the important parts down!”

It doesn’t sound real, for Gojo to be freaking out like this. He turns you around so you can see his blue eyes, wide and wild with frustration, “Why did you think I gave you things with my scent and spent every spare hour in close quarters with you?”

“Because they were always accompanied with snarky remarks? Because you taunt me at every opportunity?” You say it straight to his face. “We literally insult each other every time we meet.”

“You like it, you tease me back!” He grouses, “You’re super into that, you fucked me anyways!”

“Yeah. I thought that was all you wanted.” You swallow. “You’re supposed to ask someone to court them, Gojo.”

“Of course you wanted me to court you. You seduced me when I pinned you down and then knocked me on my ass!”

You’re upset with him and all, but he’s just got this infuriating ability to make you laugh no matter what. “Most people would take that as a no.”

He’s smiling back. Beaming. His scent is clean, like just hearing you laugh made it all better, “But your answer isn’t a no. You li~ke~ me.”

“Not so much right now.” You look away. “So, what? I’m just a fool for not knowing what you wanted, when you never even told me?”

“I thought it was obvious.” You can hear the frown in his voice. “You’re a pretty proud person. What did you think I was doing when I gave you all those gifts?”

“You literally told me I was being needy. I figured you were mocking me.”

“But then why did you accept them?” His tone, laced with something awful in his scent, brings your gaze back to his face.

He looks kind of… heartbroken.

You can’t look at him long. “Because… I am needy.”

His arms reach up from your waist, cradling your back, pulling you against him. Chin tucked where your shoulder meets your neck. Face buried in your scent glands, just where he’d put a bite. If he – if he wanted you.

“When you finally admitted it, I thought I’d feel glad.” He sounds like he’s complaining, but your neck is wet. “You just have to steal away all my victories, huh? Can’t even let me win this one.”

Why is he acting so pathetic, like a wounded puppy, when you’re the one who admitted to being down so bad you’d accept even mockery from the person you wanted to get with?

And then he sniffles, like some teenage girl who just got dumped. “I thought you knew I liked you. I thought we were having fun. Teasing each other.”

“It was fun, that’s why I did it. I just…” You swallow. “I didn’t think it would mean anything more for you. You know by now that I – I like you a lot. Way more than normal. There is nothing normal about how much I want you. I didn’t think you wanted me the same way.”

“That’s literally the worst thing I’ve ever heard. You didn’t know I wanted you back?” There’s more wetness on your neck, but this is warm. The familiar touch of his tongue dragging over your scent glands.

Gojo takes a shuddering breath, and it occurs to you that he must be taking in your scent. “How could you even think that?”

“Why are you so upset?” His whining brings you back to life, just a little. Enough to be angry. “For – for fuck’s sake already, Gojo. Say it in as many words. I told you, the whole reason I thought so was because you never told me what you meant outright.”

Another sniffle. “You’re so mean. You know what courting is. You just like bullying me.”

His sniveling revitalizes you further. It’s easier, knowing he can be pitiful for you, too. “Say it, Gojo, or you’ll be just another notch in my belt.”

“And call me Satoru! How are we supposed to date if you don’t even call me by name?!”

“We’re not dating. Say it, say it right now,” You’re getting sick of his crap, “Or I will rip your dick off.”

You can hear it, again. Is that a promise? Just wait until I’m hard to do it.

And you can see it, actually, how it physically pains him not to say it.

Gojo says your full name, out loud, and you’re helpless at the sound. “I have romantic feelings for you. I would like to court you with the intention of marriage. Mating. Whatever.”

He just can’t let you win one, can he? And yet, you’ve never heard a better sound. It feels like a massive burden has been lifted from your shoulders. Your chest.

“Two full sentences of formality,” You muse, “Impressive.”

“Right?” He preens, “Lots of things about me are impressive. You’ll see while we’re courting.”

“You never fail to impress me with how much of a dumbass you can be, Gojo.”

“Satoru. And that’s not a yes. Hurry up and say yes! I know you wanted to bite me back there, you’re totally crappy at hiding it.”

You sigh. “I did. But you didn’t want to bite me, did you?”

A pause. You’re suddenly uncomfortably aware of how close his face is to your neck.

“I always want to bite you. Ever since I met you. Smelled you.” His tongue runs along your throat, so hot it almost feels like it burns. “You can’t tell because you’ve never seen a version of me that doesn’t want to sink my teeth into your neck.”

You swallow, and he purrs, kissing over your pulse.

“It’s okay, though. I can be generous.” And his voice is back to being annoying again. “Even when you’re so demanding. I can only jerk off to you, I can only stick my dick in you – gosh, you said not to cum unless I was inside you, right? You really signed yourself up for – ”

“Oh, fuck off, Gojo – ” You interrupt yourself, “ – Satoru. Are you sure you want to… I mean. I’m older than you, you know? By a lot. I don’t have some kind of pedigree, and – well, I mean. You know.”

You flush despite yourself, “I’m… demanding, I guess. I like to bully you, if you want put it that way.” He laughs. “I’m sure you have better prospects.”

“Yeah,” A hand reaches up to stroke your hair. He pulls you so your face is pressed into his chest, so you can hear him purr for you. Loudly, now. “That’s why I’m courting you, first. Until you’re sure you’re my best prospect. Then I’ll mark you. Then you can mark me, and not even feel a little bit bad about it, after.”

It’s scary, you think, as the darkness creeps into your vision – just how accurate his prediction of you was. “You don’t think I’m… too needy?”

“I love that you’re too needy.” A kiss to the top of your head, “You look at me like I’m the thing you want the most you want in the whole world. Makes me crazy, how much you want me. I want you to bite me. Eat me whole. I want to open up my chest and shove you inside.”

A breath leaves you, mostly because he’s holding you too tightly. Just tight enough. “So you like that I’m obsessed with you. But do you like me?”

“Yeah,” He sighs, rubbing his cheek into your hair affectionately, “So much it’s kind of scary. You’re all I can think about most of the time. I would look forward to slipping you a little present all day. Then I’d get hard after watching you open it, and I’d have to rub one out. You have no idea how happy it makes me, just being near you.”

You’re quiet for a bit. All you can hear is his gentle purring, rumbling through his body and yours.

One of your hands finds one of his. “…you’ll be mine? My one and only? You won’t ever want anyone else?”

He squeezes. “Just you. You should be more worried about becoming my one and only. If I can’t jerk off or fuck anyone else, that’s all gonna be on you, baby.”

“I’m not particularly worried,” You yawn, “If you get to be too much, I’ll just choke you out again or something.”

You feel him start to twitch inside you, knot still stuck in your entrance – no way. He can’t be hard this soon, not when he hasn’t even finished –

“Hehe. Shouldn’t have said that unless you wanted to go again~!”

“Satoru!!”

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #satoru smut #gojo smut #omegaverse #omega!reader #alpha!satoru #lemon

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