#nightly drabbles
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nhoirr · 9 months ago
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gojo and geto relationship gets me crying at 3am everytime
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jjk. suguru geto x reader | sleeping hours : drabbles
FROM THE WALL — SUGURU HOURS
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“WAKE UP CALL” written by nhoirr
Within this cursed world, once one is too curious stops for a moment of breath—the world will never stop for you.
At the moment you become separated from the time, the passing days of the world where the cruel reality dawns—the realization comes that you are.. alone.
.. What if, you talked to geto before he went down the rabbit hole?
#.angst, #.reverse-comfort, #.hidden-inventory-arc!geto,
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HOW COLD IT WAS—this lonely night, where only the echoes of the pouring rain meeting the pavement floors filled the stillness of the setting sun, the moment where everyone laid rest.
A time of night where one would set their swords down for the night, to rest for another morning routine to come—duty of a jujutsu sorcerer meant all time was precious for rest.
SO IT BEGS THE QUESTION, that upon this opportune time that were few and far between—why was there now a figure welcoming the relentless downpour of the rain?
If you squint your eyes enough, you'd spot the familiar locks of the famous man—as well as a close colleague of yours; well, if you don't mention the minor feelings you've been blooming all this while.
The man—SUGURU GETO, was far too lost in the rain, perhaps something more eerie; sinister if you dare say, it begs the question lurking in your mind, telling you to pull him away before he drowns.
"Suguru?" — and to the voice came like a salvation to the man, you who sheltered him from the falling rain; did he finally come back to reality, pulled away from the thoughts that plagued his mind to near insanity.
He snaps his head up to look at you, though his vision blurred as his cloudy mind, he opens his mouth to speak, ".. you're still awake?"
There was another pause, soundlessness of the rain yet a million words hanged a million questions, forever unanswered.
"I should be the one asking that," you tilt your head to give a lopsided smile, one he can't help but reciprocate although not the same; the lack of light in his eyes doesn't go unnoticed by you—call you nosy, but you couldn't help to question it, ".. whats with the long face?"
Seems the question shatters whatever was left of his facade, his smile dropping in an instant.
"what gave it away?" he laughs that held no weight, almost a scoff if you hadn't known any better.
"Your eyes," carefully, you take a step down the stone stairs, finding a place safe enough to sit down. once you do, you speak again with a nod, "So, are you going to tell me?"
Instead of a smile you were poking at him for, it never formed. Instead there remained a silence that stretched on for eternity, silence far from peaceful, the lack of words spoke louder than any you could think of.
"It's tiring," he sighs out the words, beginning to massage his temples as if just thinking about it already made his head hurt.
"what is?"
he drops his hand, glancing at you from the corner of his eye yet hesitates at his own words. As if conflicted with the problem that was him, himself.
"This world," he finally finds the words to speak, emotions spilling from each and every word he'd utter—"you don't think-"
"it's frustrating?" you speak before him, yet he doesn't give even a sound for an answer. You guess he wouldn't speak any further, so you speak again, "isn't it so confusing, so easy to get lost.."
Though ends as a futile attempt, the man kept his lips glued shut, ".. but what can we do? the world won't stop for us moping around, duty calls." sighing in defeat, you move to stand up, with all these negative thoughts, you think sleep would be an optimal solution. So you give one glance back to the silent man, ".. I think it'd be best to rest your mind for the nigh—"
"This damned world," he mutters under his breath, yet loud enough for you to hear. perhaps its the worry, or you being too naive to know whats best for your own, you sat down again—peeking at the man beside you, this time, not saying a word.
Perhaps its the silence, the presence of another lending an ear out; does he finally say his mind.
"what is there left to protect?" — a philosophical question, one that even made you rack your brains out to think—for even a teen like you, never did you think of such a thing; so how could you have the answer? no matter how much you wished to answer his question.
who was it, you needed to protect?
"The weak," he—for once, chuckles; one thats deep, reverberating in your ears in an uncomfortable way that almost feels like mock.
".. that's an answer I would've given," his voice is hoarse, dry—not a hint of humor, tone was as sharp as a knife, perhaps enough to even cut at the raindrops or the coldness of the night.
You pause, speaking without thinking, "Do you not?" and the question speaks to his soul, echoing deep within the depths of his depraved mind—does he?
"Theres a line i've been treading," his unkept hair now dry and messy after the rain, bangs once framed his face now covered to hinder your view. ".. its been on my mind."
For you both, the answer lied with neither of you. And you knew it would stay like that for a while, for teens far too young for any of this.. how could you ever answer a question when you've only seen half of the world?
A teen.. an enjoyable part of youth—was the ignorance, "Then.. protect me," if you'd ever answer his question, it would be biased, wrong and..
it was what your heart told you so, just because you were young; couldn't you afford to be atleast naive?
".. you?" he repeats your words, finally he turns his head from the pavement floor to meet your gaze.
"If.." you start to say, stumbling with your words—these situations were never your forte, and neither was speaking your mind; well, your heart. "If you can't find anyone to protect, then .." boldly outreaching your hand, hovering over his clasped hands firmly shut, but with the gentle warmth of your fingers meeting with his cold hands—it eases enough for you to slip in, fingers slowly intertwine, "protect me."
Suguru finds himself staring at you, the twinkle in your eyes he swears he'd fight the world to protect.
"Atleast.. until you find another reason to," a bashful smile plays on your face, somehow tugging at his heart and he doesn't know when his eyes started to mirror yours.
Just.. why were you giving him hope? to what cause..
"That is-" theres that smile that graces your lips that his eyes longed for—the spark of radiant innocence shining down upon him, one he treasured with all his being. "Protect me, satoru, and.. those close to you."
slowly you move closer, and he lets you.
"Protect what you can," somehow, from what was left of himself you find something—a shred of warmth that remained in his heart, one that longed to hope in the face of despair.
"protect what matters to you, before you lose them to a decision you're not sure of." your words saw the world for what you could see, yet somehow spoke to the world as it was—to him, the naivety you held was what made you wiser; more than him, he'd even say.
So when your hand caress his cheek, when your shaking hand held his sleeve where once umbrella–now discarded in the pouring rain. "Life is not black and white, there is no line to be wary of, Suguru. So don't let the imaginary line tell you what to do, especially when it burdens you this much."
BUT EVEN AFTER THE DRAUGHT, to the relentless rain.. if he'd keep moving forward, perhaps there was still hope; maybe after the rain, there would be sprout—there would be the welcoming light of the sun, and no more rain.
That day, that night—SUGURU GETO TOOK YOUR WORDS, since then the promise was what kept him afloat all these years.
Yet still bounded, eternally wishing every night for his reason, his heart—you, to stay for a long while.
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©nhoirr — DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE NOR PLAGIARIZE ANY OF MY WORKS!
feel free to support an author by reblogging!
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[📨] — I love geto so much,, itsniteven fudny I understand you annon, thank you for sending me this message.. I suddenly got a burst of motivation totally unrelated to the topic, but the scene of geto with yuki will forever plague my mind....
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<- M-list !
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llondonfog · 1 year ago
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🦇
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moneflower · 1 year ago
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In JJK, if cursed spirits are the result of one's negative energy manifasted into the real world, then Gege is out here producing a whole ass factory for us with how much angst with no comfort the manga currently has.
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yuujispinkhair · 7 months ago
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Boyfie Sukuna picking you up from your late shift
A while ago, a sweet anon sent me an ask about protective boyfie Sukuna picking up reader from a late shift, and I loved it so much because I would have really needed him too when I was still doing late shifts. So here is a little drabble about Kuna picking us up from work. I hope you enjoy it 💗
Modern!Sukuna x Reader (female). Fluff. Word Count 900. Mentions of smoking. Minors don't interact. Dividers @/benkeibear
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"Ok, let's do this," you mutter to yourself as you push open the heavy back door, trying to hype yourself up and steeling yourself for the darkness that will await you outside of your workplace at this time.
You hate your late shifts when you're the only one left in the building and have to use the exit in the back. Your pulse already speeds up at the thought of having to walk down the dimly lit back alley to reach the main street and the subway station.
But you have no other choice, and so you step out the door and into the dark alley. And immediately jump when a low voice drawls,
"Hey, princess."
You dart around with a hand clutched to your chest and your eyes wide, even as your brain begins to register that you know this voice. And, of course, your gaze lands on a very familiar tall, muscular figure with a beautiful, tattooed face and slicked-back pink hair.
Sukuna.
He is leaning casually against the brick wall, one hand shoved into the pocket of his black jeans, the other bringing a half-smoked cigarette to his lips. He smirks around the cigarette, maroon eyes looking amusedly at you.
"Did I scare you?"
You glare at him, even as you feel a huge relief wash over you. Relief and that all-too-familiar fluttery feeling in your stomach that you always get when you see your boyfriend.
"Kuna! What the... yes, you scared me! What are you doing here?"
Sukuna exhales slowly, watching you through the cigarette smoke with those beautiful cat-like eyes as he shrugs and smirks that devilishly attractive smirk,
"Making sure my girl gets home safely, of course."
You can't stop the big, happy smile from spreading over your face. This side of your boyfriend always makes you so weak for him. This sweet side of Sukuna that contradicts everything the people who told you he wouldn't be good for you said.
Yes, your boyfriend has a bad boy reputation. But yet, here he is, picking you up after your late shift without you having to ask for it. So protective and caring when it comes to you.
"I'm glad you are here, baby."
You smile and get on your tiptoes to kiss Sukuna's tattooed cheek, feeling the anxiety you felt earlier leave you completely. When Sukuna is with you, you know you are safe.
Sukuna grins as he flicks his cigarette away and wraps one strong arm around you to pull you against his tall body. His lips brush against your forehead in a quick but tender kiss.
"Let's go home, princess. Dinner is waiting for you."
"You already cooked too? Are you practicing to become a househusband, Kuna?"
You grin up at Sukuna playfully, and he laughs, but he sounds very pleased when he replies in that sexy, velvety voice,
"For you? Always."
He winks at you and offers you one of his muscular, tattooed arms as if he is a knight or an actor in a 1950s rom-com. And you take Sukuna's arm and hold on to him as you walk down the dimly lit alley together.
Usually, you are scared to walk down this narrow, dark street. But not tonight. Not when you are holding onto Sukuna's arm, your hand wrapped tightly around his bulging tattooed biceps, his tall, strong body so reassuringly brushing against your side.
The dark alley and the nightly city have lost their scariness now that Sukuna is with you and tells you about the dinner he cooked for you and how he beat his brother at a video game they were playing earlier.
You know you are safe when Sukuna is with you. Even the two sinister-looking guys loitering around at the end of the alley quickly leave after casting one look at Sukuna's tattooed face and his tall, muscular body.
You smile and snuggle against Sukuna's warm body, thinking that there are definitely certain benefits to dating a bad boy.
You reach Sukuna's car shortly after, and he holds open the passenger door for you while smirking that sexy, boyish smirk, always acting like an old-fashioned gentleman when it comes to you.
You watch him while he drives, one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting on your thigh, interlacing his long tattooed fingers with your smaller ones.
And you can't stop smiling from ear to ear. Sukuna cooked dinner for you. He came here to pick you up. And you know that he's turning up the heating in his car just for you. He runs on the hot side and doesn't need it. But he's doing it for you, just like he is doing so many little and big things for you all the time. Anything for you, without you ever having to ask for it. Because he loves you.
It makes your heart feel so full.
You lean across the center console at the first red light, pressing another sweet kiss to Sukuna's cheek. But he turns his face so your lips end up on his. You feel his grin against your lips as his large hand captures your chin, cupping it firmly, holding you in place so he can deepen the kiss, licking into your mouth with a few playful flicks of his pierced tongue before he pulls away again.
You smile, your fingers tightening around Sukuna's hand, which is back in your lap,
"Thank you for picking me up, baby."
You see the corners of Sukuna's lips lift in a matching smile even while his gaze is fixed on the street before him, and his voice sounds playful but warm at the same time,
"You're welcome, princess. From now on, I'll pick you up every time you have a late shift. There's no way you're walking through dark alleys without me."
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Protective boyfie Sukuna makes me SWOON aaaahhhh. Honestly, this gave me such a feeling of safety. In my old job, I had to do late shifts, too, and I was so scared walking down to the train station and waiting for my train because all those sinister-looking men were already starting to crawl out of their holes, and I felt very unsafe there. Protective boyfie Sukuna would have made me feel SO safe.
I hope this could give you comfort, too 💗💗 Thank you so much for reading!! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet.
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chuluoyi · 8 months ago
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࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 07:55 A.M 」
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a little drabble based on this outrageous ask :)) and half-inspired by some lines from the broken ring: this marriage will fail anyway—that's my new roman empire everyone ehe🥹 and who can resist domestic husband!gojo?😋
a part of gojo's love entries
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“you’re cheating on me.”
morning breakfast. satoru stopped chewing his toast at your wild accusation, his baby blue eyes blinking rapidly as he processed your words before turning to you and bursting out—
“huh?!”
“last night,” you charged, eyes narrowing in distaste. “i can’t believe you.”
“whaaa?” he tensed up, racking his brain for any indicators that he might have wronged you in any way, until he came across an irrefutable truth—
“wait no, last night, you almost made me lose it in my pants!” even satoru’s face reddened slightly while recounting your nightly tales. “before i busted it inside you. how is it possible that i’m committing adultery?!”
you huffed, looking away from him righteously. “in my last night’s dream, you did.”
. . .
“eh...” satoru blinked again, fully absorbing your words, before stupidly smiling. “what? you dream about me?”
you scowled, picking at your omelette. “yes. about you running away with five bimbos, banging them in a cottage in the middle of the woods, and leaving me here waiting for you like an idiot.”
he burst into uproarious laughter, so loud and crisp it made him wheeze. “what? seriously? you— ahahahaha!”
you threw him an unamused look, mildly irked.
“hey, wifey,” satoru nudged you, his grin stretching wide in sheer delight. “no one else can make my body react the way it does around you, you know~”
“…”
“this here,” your husband then shamelessly gestured towards his crotch. “—is broken already. my happy friend here can’t get up anymore if it’s not you.”
“…”
“i mean it! you’re the only one who can give me an erection!”
you whipped your head around him, scandalized. “ew! satoru, you—!”
“well, that’s the fact! nothing too embarrassing— we’re married!” he shrugged as you bulged a vein. “besides, shouldn’t you be proud? you've truly got me wrapped around your pinky~”
seeing how you were cutely pouting throughout breakfast, still all giggly, satoru led you back to bedroom to cuddle you.
“there, there, sweets... happy now?” satoru pulled you closer and pat your back, his body still slightly shaking with suppressed laughter.
“hmph.” you put your hands around his torso with pursed lips, squeezing him in return.
“look at this, it’s only when she’s spooked that the wife shows me any affection,” satoru exclaimed with a dramatic sigh. “so, what else did the dream version of me do to you, huh?”
“you bend each bimbo on every surface, lied to me that you’re on a long mission,” you huffed, grimacing as you recalled your dream vision. “you’re the worst.”
satoru still had that dopey grin on this face, and right this second, he thought you were the absolute cutest, because how could you think that he is capable of looking at anyone else the way he looks at you?
you have his heart, body and soul already. hasn't he told you that?
“is that so, poor you,” he retorted with mock sympathy. “but since you’re so worried...”
and suddenly, he rose from the bed with his arm around your back and another under your knees, cradling you in a princess carry. and with the smuggest smirk he whispered—
“...well, i have to make it up somehow. how about i bend you on your vanity desk now, hmm?”
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freyito · 1 year ago
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ɴɪɢʜᴛꜱ ᴡ/ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏʏꜱ
this is another little drabble thing for all the men in mk1, since i thought it was another super cute idea and i have so many requests for the lin kuei trio! but barley any for any other characters!!! i think they all deserve the same love :D these are pretty much little snippets of like how they sleep, what they do before they go to bed with you, little late night excursions, and who wakes up first/how they wake up, stuff like that :) this one took a looooot out of me goddamn, but i love it and i hope u all enjoy it too!!!!
cw: gn reader, literally just fluff, shang tsung is a diiiiiiva, proofread
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-Liu Kang
Nights with Liu Kang are ethereal. When you're up to it, he's gonna take you to the most secluded place he can think of, where you can almost see the entire universe shining within the sky. He'll recount stories from the past to you, point out constellations,- even in the overcrowded sky- and even make up some, just for fun. Just because he's a god doesn't mean he won't make time for you. He actively seeks you out during the night, really.
Liu Kang doesn't move much in his sleep, either. He's got his arms around you, and his head pressed up against yours. It's the only way he can sleep well, he says. If you slip out of his arms somehow, he's awake almost immediately. It gives him peace of mind. He's also relatively warm, since he is the god of fire. So don't expect to be all covered up in blankets.
Liu Kang also refuses to leave until you are awake. He does not want to give the impression that he is abandoning you, he knows what its like to suddenly wake up alone. Quite frankly, you take precedence over godhood, and he doesn't mind waiting to start his day.
-Bi-Han
Bi-Han really enjoys nightly walks through the forest. He believes it's a great way to end the day and to wind down. The soft sounds of the wind running through the leaves, a streaming flowing in the distance, and no one but you and him. Sometimes, he'll just enjoy the silence, and other times he'll talk to you. Mundane things, stuff that even he seems to prideful to ask. But he'll ask about your day, and he'll want every little detail. Especially if you didn't get to spend your day with him.
Bi-Han also doesn't move at all in his sleep. He'll hold you every now and then, but he's more than content just sharing a bed with you. As said before, he almost has an aversion to touch. Sometimes he'll turn his back to you, but not because he's mad. It's simply a comfortable position. There are some times where he will wake up in the middle of the night and find himself wanting to hold you, so he will. He'll hold you close, almost as if he's afraid of loosing you.
Normally, Bi-Han wakes up first. Sometimes he'll be gone when you wake up, but he's soon to return. Other times, you wake up in his arms, while he's still sleeping. It's a game of chance to see who wakes up first, really.
-Kuai Liang
Kuai Liang will always wind down simply by laying in bed with you, your legs tangled amongst each other, his fingers caught up in your hair. He's so close to you, just mere centimeters from his lips, yet he does not close the distance. His eyes are transfixed on you, the silence full of love and passion and content. At the very last moment, when you get too impatient, he finally places his lips on yours. And you always melt into them, every single time.
Kuai Liang tends to move in his sleep a little, but not enough to wake you. Normally, you two will fall asleep spooning, but you'll wake up with him either pushed away from you, or somehow even closer. It's not voluntary, and when he finds himself away from you, he's a little heartbroken. But he'll make up for it, almost too quickly.
Kuai Liang will always wake up before you, he enjoys watching your sleeping face. He loves these small moments of vulnerability, it's something that matters deeply to him. To him, being able to fall asleep with someone isn't easy. He has to be comfortable being with you, and for you to be this vulnerable with him, it makes his heart skip a beat.
-Johnny Cage
Two words. Night drives. Johnny is and always will be down to take night drives with you. Around the city, somewhere in those smaller towns, or even on the country roads. Even if he complains that the country roads will fuck up his tires. He'll go anywhere you want, play any music you want, or none if you prefer Johnny's sweet, smooth voice. He'll always have his hand on your thigh, too. His hand won't wander, but he definitely enjoys your presence.
Johnny can't stay fucking still in his sleep, not for a second. Yeah, maybe he'll fall asleep with you in his arms, but when you wake up, he's sprawled out over the bed like Patrick fucking Star. You've lost track of how many times you've been kicked off the bed. All in love, though. He isn't doing it on purpose, he swears. Pinky swears. He'll get a bigger bed, soon! So you don't have to fight for your life to stay on it over the night!
You will always wake up before him, unless Johnny has a gig. He hates waking up in the morning, even if it's next to you. However, if you make an attempt to get out of bed while he's still asleep, he'll subconsciously grab onto you. He condemns you to an eternity in bed with him, as if it's your own personal hell. It isn't, but you always pout.
-Kenshi Takahashi
Like Kuai Liang, Kenshi prefers nothing more than settling down with you in bed. He enjoys the mood, having you rest your head on his bare chest, playing with your hair, running his hands down your back. Those quiet moments where you two just enjoy each others presence, finding peace within the chaos of the world. As ashamed as he is to be considered a (former) Yakuza, he does enjoy it when you trace his tattoos with your gentle hands.
While you fall asleep on Kenshi's chest more often then not, he's quite restless. He has a habit of waking up in the middle of the night and seeking your comfort. And when you end up waking up with him, there are very quiet, tender moments. He'll call you his, runs his hands down your body all warm and tender, and kiss you passionately. If those moments don't end up with something else, simply sharing the intimacy and his feelings for you gets him to go back to sleep.
Surprisingly, you'll wake up before Kenshi does. Always. Perhaps it's the fact that he can never get a full nights sleep. But he likes waking up to you being there, he won't throw a fit like Johnny does if you get up without him, but it does sting a little for him. Though, he'll always find you in the house, and will always surprise you by wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in the crook of your neck.
-Kung Lao
To wind down, Kung Lao really enjoys just messing around. He's gonna chase you all around the house, slow dance with you from room to room, serenade you (horribly), and many more. He likes to make the time he spends with you as fun as possible, even if he's teasing you. By far, he loves carrying you around the house, telling you all sorts of stupid stories amidst telling you exactly how much he loves you.
Kung Lao tosses and turns quite a lot in his sleep. Yet, his arms will always find their way around your waist. Even if it's just for a couple of seconds. Sometimes, he has a habit of pushing you around the bed. He hates that he does, and he's tried to fix how restless his body is when he sleeps, but he just hasn't been able.
With that, Kung Lao always makes up for it in the morning. He's always going to wake up before you, always. Perhaps it's because of his life as a farmer, or maybe he just feels real guilty about his sleep habits. He refuses to let you leave the bed when you do wake up, he'll hold you real close by your waist and rest his forehead on yours. He'll stare in your eyes for what feels like forever, until he gives you a quick kiss on the lips and frees you.
-Raiden
Raiden enjoys just talking about your day before bed. To sit down, enjoy the sunset with each other, and talk about the mundane. Even if he's Earthrealm's protector, he really misses the mundane, the boring side of life. So to just hear about your day, even if all day was spent at home, is a great pleasure to him. And he'll tell you about his, too.
The man sleeps easy, Raiden doesn't have much troubling him in his sleep at all. He's perfectly still, although he does tend to lay on his back. He loves it when you cuddle up to him, even if you really only lay on his arm. He doesn't mind if he wakes up and it's numb, no, really.
Raiden is an early riser, and if you are too, then that's perfect. He also enjoys spending his mornings with you, in fact, he'll stay in bed til you wake up. He pretends he wakes up at the same time with you, just because it feels like a very special moment to him.
-Zeffeero
Zeffeero likes to use his magic to span out pretty little tricks for you. Laying down, your head resting on his shoulder, his hand lazily tracing your waist, as he spins out little spirals, forms stars, almost like shadow puppets. He'll argue that it's a waste of his talent, but you know he loves doing it for you. He loves that little sparkle of adoration in your eyes.
Zeffeero has a harder time going to sleep. He actually struggles a little with physical touch when he's trying to sleep, so more often then not, you two end up sleeping facing eachother. He'll cuddle you before bed, of course, but he just doesn't know why he has a problem with it when he's asleep. He's perfectly still, in his sleep though.
Because of this, you always wake up to Zeffeero playing with your hair, admiring your features, and even humming slightly to himself. That being said, it doesn't matter how early you wake up, he will always, always wake up first. It's almost like a challenge for you, but you don't relinquish the sweet sanctity of sleep.
-Tomas Vrbada
Tomas loves making the night magical, with what he can do. The amount of effort and thought he puts into every night to make it the perfect experience is almost scary. Anything you want, he'll do. However, he loves slow dancing with you in your room before you two fall asleep. Especially in the dark. It's a wonder how he doesn't bump into anything, guiding you along. During this, he loves to intertwine his fingers with yours, pulling you in real close by the small of your back, and peppering your face with kisses.
After you two end up falling onto the bed, Tomas keeps you close. He wraps you two up in the covers, and falls asleep relatively quickly. As peaceful as he seems during the day, at night he feels haunted by what would have been. Tomas has chronic nightmares, and he tends to wake up a lot in the middle of the night. If he wakes you up with them, he feels so guilty. He doesn't wake up suddenly, since he is used to this, but he does tend to twitch in his sleep.
It's a 50/50 chance with who will wake up first, if it's Tomas, he re-adjusts and pulls you in even closer. He hates waking up, he's the type to spend at least an hour in bed with you before properly waking up. If you wake up first, and leave the bed, he actively seeks you out in his tired state. Once he finds you, he drags you right back to bed.
-Baraka
Night walks are one of the greatest ways to end the day with Baraka. Anywhere, he'll always make the small trip worth it. Normally, you two walk in silence. It's not a bad thing, simply spending time with you reminds him how loved he is. But sometimes you'll find odd little things to talk about, tell stories, all of it.
Baraka prefers not to hold you, in fact he's afraid to even sleep in the same bed. He loves you, and it's because of that. He's worried about spreading Tarkat to you, so he'll keep his distance in bed. He wants so desperately to hold you, to bury his face in your neck and feel your warmth, but your life is not worth that. Because of this, he sleeps with his back to you.
Baraka wakes up before you. He sleeps lightly, and any little twitch wakes him up. Normally, he can never really get back to sleep. So he'll sit up in bed and wait on you to wake up. He thinks it's important for you to wake up to him, because with all the things he wants to do but can't, he at least wants you to know he'll always be there.
-Geras
Geras' favorite thing to do to wind down before you two go to bed is to read with you. Perhaps he is a construct of time and has no use for mortal literature, but he kind of finds it interesting. Whatever book you're reading, he wants to read, too. Having you sit on his lap, while you two read the same book, it makes him tired. Even though he really has no concept of being tired. You bring out a whole range of emotions that he never thought was possible from a construct.
If you don't fall asleep as-is in Geras' arms, he loves spooning. He really has no need for sleep, but he will gladly guide you off to sleep. He'll stroke your hair, place kisses on the back of your shoulders, and whisper all sorts of sweet nothings. And once you're asleep, he goes right back to watching over the timeline. He'd love to sleep with you, but it is really only something he can fake.
By the time you're awake, Geras is right back in bed with you. He'd hate to have you wake up alone, so he always takes an hour or so out of his tireless watch to be with you in the morning. He'll wake you up gently, make you some tea, and hold you close for a couple minutes, before kissing you and sending you off on your day.
-Syzoth
By far, Syzoth is probably the most cuddly. He enjoys watching some of Johnny's horrid movies before bed,- but only the nice ones- while he's all wrapped around you. He's got his legs tangled up with yours, holding you close to his chest, and kissing the crown of your head. He actually refuses to have you leave his arms- unless you really need it or are uncomfortable- because keeping you close is the only thing that really sends him to sleep.
You'll fall asleep like that, too. You have an effect on Syzoth, he just feels so happy and safe with you that he'll fall asleep halfway through the movie. While he tends to wake up every now and then, he doesn't move a damn muscle in his sleep. Not a one. Sometimes, he'll squeeze you just a little tighter when he wakes up. To remind himself that you're there.
You end up waking up before Syzoth does, and it's a struggle to get out of his hold. But, by then, he's awake too. He'll let you escape, but when you get out of bed, he insists on pulling you back to bed with him. For at least 20 more minutes. And then, he'll follow you around as you brush your teeth, shower, etc. He's especially clingy in the morning.
-Havik
As mentioned in my love languages post, Havik loves naps. So normally, you find yourself laying on his chest, while he tries to fall asleep for the third time today. He believes being able to fall asleep with someone is the ultimate vulnerability, so having you there makes him feel stronger. As long as some part of you is touching him while he drifts off, he's happy. And if you even stray from him, he's pulling you back in, all grumpy.
Havik has trouble sleeping properly, despite his favorite pastime. He finds himself waking up quite often, and he has some rather visceral reactions. He tends to wake you up, too. But he's always apologetic. He'll pull you in closer, loosing himself in your eyes. Only then do you two end up falling back asleep. Sometimes, it repeats a couple times through the night, but there are some nights where he sleeps peacefully.
You will always wake up before Havik does. But he's still very aware of his surroundings, so if you try and leave the bed before he's even semi-conscious, he's going to pout and pull you back in once more. He'll hide his face in your neck, muttering "mine", until he's fully awake and ready to start the day.
-General Shao
Shao is a fucking CUDDLEBUG. Despite his big and mean demeanor, he loves showing you around the city before bed. Even if you've seen it a thousand times before, he loves the palace at night. He's got his hand on your waist, in the moments he knows you two are alone. And when you two get back home, he's carrying you to bed. He refuses to let you walk. You're his, and he's going to treat you like royalty. He'll make sure you're all snug and comfortable under the sheets, then get underneath them with you.
When Shao is still in his sleep, he's got one arm around you and your head pressed up against his chest. For someone with a life like his, he sleeps peacefully, though he does sleep light. Any little sound that isn't just you shifting in bed, or the house settling has him awake and fully alert. I'd be lying if I said he didn't have a couple knives ready. Not that he needs them. He'll slink out of bed and scout out the whole house to make sure nothings amiss. And once he's sure that no ones here to try and hurt him or you, he'll get back in bed. When you ask what happened, he'll saying "Nothing" in this tired and grumpy voice.
Waking up in the bed alone is a common occurrence. Shao's a general, so he has to be up bright and early, no matter how long you two stayed up til. He regrets that he can't spend time in the morning with you, but sometimes you'll find him getting ready, and that's quite enough for him.
-Shang Tsung
Wherever you two are, Shang Tsung enjoys taking you out on a "romantic" night, walking and talking, a little slow dancing here and there, and really just showing you off to the complete strangers of the night. He'll even steal some passionate kisses under the moon, just to top off the night. And when you return home, he's whining that he's too tired and will just drag you right to bed.
Shang Tsung loves to be held in bed, yeah he'll hold you too, but you have to be the big spoon. Have to. He's a diva like that. And if you so much as accidentally move in his sleep, he's going to pout and whine in the morning that you didn't hold him. But he sleeps rather soundly, aside from that. In fact, he's a pretty heavy sleeper.
You are the first to wake up, and Shang Tsung will wake up only a second after. You know, to whine that you aren't holding him close enough. After that, though, he refuses to leave bed. Begging you to stay, almost desperately. Especially in the morning, he seeks your comfort. He wants to hold you, whisper all sorts of things to you, all to ease his mind.
-Reiko
Reiko is the only one who thinks the very, very best way to end the day is sparring. He's going to tackle you in bed, and while you writhe and try to break free of his touch, he's going to pepper your face with kisses and make his way from your bottom lip, to your chin, to your neck, only to pick you up and fake throwing you back down. Yeah, it wakes you up more than it tires you out, but after a couple minutes, he'll give up and lay down on the bed with you. Out of breath. He puts way too much effort into play fighting with you, really.
Those moments are the very rare moments you get to see Reiko drop his serious, war-ridden face. After all that, he'll roll over to his side and lay his arm over you. He won't full-on cuddle you at night, he finds it harder to sleep like that. But he makes sure he's touching you in some way. However, he has a hard time sleeping peacefully. He's haunted, and he tends to wake up at least twice a night. He doesn't have a big reaction, it's more like he's flinch a bit and wake up. It's something that will never wake you up, but he will always take a minute to hover over you when he does wake up.
Like Shao, Reiko always wakes up first. But he'll wake you up with him. All gentle like, he won't shake you or anything. He wants to make sure he gets at least a few words and waking moments with you before he starts his day. And before he leaves, he always pulls you in for a soft kiss, one full of yearning and adoration. That's something he will never forget to do.
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© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.
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teeskzagain · 1 month ago
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pov: bully!perv wooyoung couldn’t resist an opportunity to mess with you
warnings: brief mentions of bullying (nothing severe), mentions of sexual frustrations, elements of cnc (but again, nothing extreme), fingering, mutual masturbation, “unwanted” ejaculation on to reader, public sex, like a smidge of fluff? take it or leave it, desperate woo (my fav actually) minor tit play.
wc: ~ 3.2k words
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a/n: yk, i find it funny how i always try to make quick drabbles, but somehow it always gets turned in 1k and up fics…….anyways, enjoy!
taglist: @hwasbbyg @velvetmoonlght @blackp1nkfan @gigikubolong29 @solarhwa
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imagine bully!perv wooyoung, who’s been sexually frustrated for the past few days, grumbling softly to himself. He hops up onto his usual bus route, the one he takes after a dance lesson, with pure agony and dread.
not only is he ticked off at how shitty his sex life’s been going (he was supposed to meet up with a girl tonight, yet she flaked) but now he has to endure a 40 minute long ride back to his home city with a currently dead phone. how annoying.
scuffling down the aisle, he continues to mumble about these facts whilst darting his lower lip out in a pouty way. there wasn’t many people occupying the front section of the bus, and so as he’s getting ready to take a seat nearby, he spots something that makes his whole body go rigid.
you. near the back. staring idly out of the window. hands clasped together, watching the nightly glow from outside. wooyoung cocks his head to the side. what are you doing here? had you always taken this route and he’s never noticed before? but that couldn’t have been the case, surely he would’ve recognized you at some point during his few weeks of riding the bus here and back home.
wooyoung mulls this thought over.
well, knowing you, you’d probably ride all the way back on the dirty bus floor if it meant completely evading him.
he seriously wouldn’t put it past you to do such a thing. the dynamic between you two has always been skewed since the start of university. it’s almost laughable the extreme measures you’ve gone to stay out of his vicinity, though, wooyoung somehow always finds a way to taunt you.
and just like that, his lips form into a crude smile. he knows that you dislike him to no end. he knows you always try to avoid him at all costs. and, yeah, maybe he’s a little crass acting when he’s around you, but you make your hatred towards him so obvious it’s sort of hard not to take advantage of that. hence, the constant teasing courtesy of him.
and yet, he also knows that the work uniform you’re currently wearing is doing wonders for him right now. a pretty pastel dress that stops mid-thigh, with a crisp white collar around your neck. how it curves at your chest so nicely.
the way it cinches your waist, practically sculpting your body in perfect portions that he’s honestly never seen you in such a way before. makes him practically want to start salivating.
imagine bully!perv wooyoung, who’s just been so damn horny that he’s willing to do anything for a release. a chance to expel some of that pent up stress he’s been feeling, at least what he’s been feeling for tonight.
which is why moments later, you find the vacant spot right next to you now being occupied with a body. a body, that at the recognition of his face, makes you visibly shudder in disgust.
wooyoung wastes no time in sparking up conversation, though it comes off as one-sided with your lack of participation. he wouldn’t expect anything less from you. he deems your cold act towards him something that intrigues him. a challenge almost. and he wants to see you break.
“y/n….you’re so quiet today.” he remarks more towards himself as he watches you closely, “something on your mind?”
you drag the lower part of your lip into your mouth in attempt to distract yourself from this bastard. gosh, does he just get off on messing with you?
at the beacon of silence, wooyoung prompts more questions and even leans in to further accentuate his presence, “yah, you know it’s rude to ignore someone when they’re talking to you right? i’m your senior too, so treat me with more respect.”
without turning too much towards him, you partly twist your body and speak quietly. you didn’t wish to cause a scene, “stop it.”
ah, now he’s got you.
“i’m just pointing out that you’re a bad junior. what, does that bother you?” he raises an eyebrow with the question, and in turn has to hide the spreading smile on his face as your body does yet another scootch towards him.
“will you please be quiet?” your somber voice ends with a bite, doing a quick glance over your shoulder.
he digs further, “i’m wanting to talk with my favorite, little y/n, and here you are. acting so cruel to me. really, it’s hurtful-”
“jung. wooyoung.” you snap, shifting once again so you’re currently chest to chest with your classmate. as your gaze bores deeply into his own, you can see a mix of emotions radiating in the center of his pupils.
“yeah?” wooyoung stares you down with a sinister grin, happy to get some sort of reaction out of you.
he isn’t sure how sex deprived he is, but just hearing you say his name already sends a wave of arousal surging through him.
your lip twitches out of annoyance. there’s more words threatening to spill from your tongue, but it’s like nothing wants to come out, so for a moment you're quiet. eyes scattering around, you eventually break eye contact with wooyoung and gaze your attention downwards.
though when you finally avert your eyes, your breath quickly catches when you spot a large lump resting idly within his baggy joggers. a small, 'hip' leaves your throat.
wooyoung follows your eye line, then lets out a soft chuckle once he sees what is you’re gaping at. yeah, sporting a half chub right now probably isn’t the best look. but if he’s being completely honest, he’s getting harder at the fact you’re straight up gawking at him.
“oh, right.” he begins to half-comment, then does a quick peep at you, “this is kinda your fault, just so you know.”
"huh?" skittishly, you go to look at him before turning away as embarrassment floods your skin after getting caught staring.
wooyoung tucks in his lips to suppress an affection grin, him reaching a hand up to tug at your dress. he tries to gain your attention once more, “come on, don’t act stupid.”
he closes the space between you two as he continues to press you for another clapback. in response, you tuck your face into your shoulder and create a shield from him. but, wooyoung’s relentless.
his hand on your dress turns into a hand on your thigh. he grips your flesh with a sing-song voice until you eventually look back at him. as he continues to spew comments, you couldn’t help if your eyes caught a glimpse of the now fully erected bulge protruding through the fabric.
he’s quick to notice this and calls you out on your glances, “you wanna see it or something?”
horror washes over you face. you begin to stammer in protests, asking him why he would say such a thing and that he’s being inappropriate.
a hearty laugh bellows from wooyoung. god, does he find you cute. so dumb, yet so cute. keeping his grasp on you, he begins to slouch further into the bus seat while he spreads his legs out. his knee accidentally knocks into yours just as he rolls his neck in your direction.
“seriously, you want to?” he waits for response but as you go to shake your head, he’s already reaching for your hand, “y/n, i think you’re a fucking perv.”
“w-wooyoung, what the hell?.” you fight to take your hand off of his crotch, but he simply fights right back, keeping a strong hold on your fingers. in no time, he drops your hand on top of his clothed hard-on and forces you to rub him.
"let me go!" you hiss, but the request goes ignored. he’s enjoying your struggle, your combat against him.
in an almost exaggerated manner, he starts to accentuate his hip rolls against your touch. it begins as a joke, with him enjoying your bewildered expression at his actions. but quickly does he start to lavish in the desperate heat he’s been feeling all night, “oh fuck. y/n, you always touch guys like this?”
the nerves in your fingers feel electrified, almost like a buzz when he’s teasing you. the sensation is foreign. you want to scrunch your face in disgust at his gratification. scream help at the other three people who sat towards the front of the bus, oblivious to what’s happening.
however, you can recognize what the worst feeling was. the fact that through it all, a tiny pulse begins to build between your legs. how badly you hated this, you hated him, and yet, that’s the very thing turning you on. what is wrong with you?
the realization of his hard length being dragged against your fingers brings you back, as you start to register the slickness coating your skin. wooyoung darts a tongue out and flings his head back, exposing the vast area of his neck. he’s got a small smile on his face, “go inside my pants.”
“you’re disgusting….” sneering, you glare deeply at the boy who’s simply basking in the pleasure you’re providing. he feels your stare and you watch him slightly tilt his head down, the little hairs on his forehead falling forward.
“do you really think that?” his voices pipes up at the end before giving you a smug look, “you think i’m so bad?”
and right as you go to confirm those thoughts, a quick motion cuts you off. soon, you feel pressure from underneath your dress, then against your underwear; he’s now pressing his fingers on top of your cunt.
“cause if i didn’t know any better,” he removes his hand from your area and decides to shove it in your face, “you fucking like this.”
the movement startles you briefly and it takes a second for your eyes to focus. though as soon as your vision clears, you see wet fingers staring back at you. it causes your breath to hitch, “i don’t.”
“bullshit.” he dives his hand back under your dress, ready to collect more slick, and involuntarily you clasp your thighs around his hand. eyes squeezed shut, the moment contact was made, you’re brimming with sensitivity.
he watches you intensely. now that you have him trapped, he takes the time to start grazing the fabric of your panties, beginning at a leisure pace. wooyoung leans his head close to your ear and starts to murmur, “right. you clearly hate this.”
with each stroke his fingers get wetter. with each massage his dick gets harder, if that’s even possible. and with each rub, he sees your body beginning to relax into his touch. your shoulders droop, your body slouches deeper into him, and he can see your chest heaving up and down lowly. you’re such a liar.
“oh, god.” you mumble, and wooyoung has to stop a groan from leaving him at your current state. you’re succumbing to him so well, so easily. he loves each and every second of this, but he even with this, he understands there’s always more to enjoy.
“alright, y/n, nothing’s free.” he starts to ease up on you, his touches becoming lighter, and he gives you a knowing glance, “come on, let’s go.”
his pelvis raises slightly to draw attention towards his lonely cock, and you could only crane your head slowly towards him. going from his crotch and up to his face, you gaze at him with an expression of reluctancy.
the aching in your cunt is screaming at you to push forward, however, the logistic side of your brain is harshly reprimanding you for even considering. after thinking it over, it’s almost as if your hand began to move on its own, essentially giving into your tempted desires.
you drag your somewhat limp of palm up towards his waistband, slipping past the blue boxer’s he’s sporting, and finally place it onto his bare cock. he’s immediately responsive, sighing as he slowly rocks himself into your palm to create momentary friction.
at his expression, you can’t help the bubble of disgust that’s rising up inside of you, mixing with your feeling of lust. you grip his bulge, he hums in content. you start to slide your hand up and down, he’s staring at you with ever-loving eyes. in just a few tugs, he’s already huffing with breath stuttering. his own pre-cum begins to cover his shaft, and in return you can sense your hand getting drenched.
“you make me sick.” you say in a hushed voice and wooyoung scoffs at your words.
“oh, fuck off. you love it.” he counters as he takes the fingers inside your dress and uses them to shove your underwear off to the side, going back to circling your now unclothed pussy. literal drops of wetness spill from your entrance, and he can feel it spread in every round strokes he’s producing.
you melt like putty at his hand. from the perfect pressure he’s applying to his occasional dips inside. he’s giving your core the desperate assistance it needed from the moment you for first began feeling like this. it’s almost difficult for you to continue with your jerking inside of his pants, but at every moment you begin to slip, wooyoung swiftly reminds you to do a better job.
“you except me to get off with that flimsy hold? grip it like you mean. yah, i said grip it.”
he halts his movements monetarily, creating an ode to himself to not start up again until you do exactly as you’re being told. your eyelids vibrate in irritation, part of you wanting to keep up with the defiance act. yet, you knew if wanted to leave this situation with some sort of pleasure, obeying this ass would be your best option.
you reposition your hand on his cock, then start your motion up once more. wooyoung’s transported back into his bliss, his eyes having difficulty staying opened. his hips involuntarily ruts inside of your grasp, as he tries his best to not blow his load in the confinements of his pants. no, if he’s going to finish, he knew he needed to make it as easy of a clean up as possible.
which is why a few strokes later, from both you to him, and when wooyoung senses your fat pussy clenching particularly hard against his digits, it’s only then he decides to execute the final stage of his self-pleasuring. he also starts to notice the familiar streets and roads of his neighborhood which lets him know his stop is going to be coming up soon.
just as you feel yourself ready to unravel, coldness floods your core you realize wooyoung’s completely removed himself away and is scrambling to get your hand from being trapped in his sweats.
he’s rushing, now, evident of the quick turnaround he has and how his own hand replaces yours inside of his fleeced joggers. with deep breaths and hazy eyes, he drags his look towards your eyes before dropping his gaze down to your full chest.
“fuck, and i didn’t even get to see your tits,” he mumbles quietly to himself, then darts his vision up to you, “you wanna take ‘em out really quick? just enough so i can how sexy they are.”
an apprehensive groan leaves you, nervousness replacing the arousal you were feeling just a few seconds prior. but, you would be lying if you said the desperate look on jung wooyoung’s face wasn’t getting you bothered right now. how he has an expression between wanting to kiss you and wanting to do more swirling in his pupils.
which is why in no time, you’re turning your body away from the front and more toward the boy, as you begin to undo the buttons of your pretty, pink dress. you don’t go all the way down, just enough to expose the matching pink bra you decided to pair with the outfit.
he whimpers softly at the reveal, “oh my- go all the way for me.”
you do as instructed and reaching up towards you breasts, you begin to pull out your mounds and leave them to hang off of your chest. the cool, still air grazes your erected nipples, causing them to be pointed and you almost resist the urge to twirl your fingers between them.
wooyoung’s tugging grows faster, seeing as the way his hand bobs up and down inside his pants. it’s almost as if he forgot he’s wearing clothes, then once he remembered this fact, he’s scrambling to pull his sweatpants and boxers down mid-thigh. you can now see his thick, red cock out in the open, and threatening to spill at any second.
his breathing turns shallow, and wooyoung continues to rub one out. he even goes as far as taking his unoccupied hand and brining it towards your flesh, grabbing a handful of your tit then moving on to playing with your bud. the action causes you to wince and whine, your mouth forming into an ‘o’ with shut eyes.
at hearing your adorable voice, wooyoung loses it. he feels his orgasm getting ready to wash over, but instead of finishing all over himself, he tilts his cock forward and points his head directly at you.
and before you know, ropes of wooyoung’s cum is getting spritzed onto you lap, all over your legs. he’s marking you with his semen, and god is it so much. his ejaculation continues with tiny moans floating from his lips, beating his cock to your horrified look at the whiteness painting you a beautiful shade.
imagine bully!perv wooyoung, who’s finally had the release he’d been so needy to have all night.
“you’re so good, so damn good.” he says in more of an after thought, finally relieved to have been able to release his frustration, better yet, onto you. he’s still twitching from sensitivity, but that doesn’t stop wooyoung from tucking himself back into his pants and hoisting them up once again. you,still relegate in the fact that you are literally dripping with cum.
just as he’s finishes redressing himself, the bus begins to slow before coming to a stop. you don’t even have time to process what just happened as wooyoung’s quickly grabbing his stuff and standing up, ready to leave. however, he makes sure to leave with parting words before seeing you again at school the next day.
“yah, y/n. take a picture of you in that dress and send it to me.” he quietly asks with up-right corners.
you could only huff out a, ‘fine’. eliciting anything more would’ve taken far too much effort and right now, you were upset at the lack of pleasure for yourself. wooyoung softly laughs at your response but before he fully exits, he dips his head down to place a gentle kiss on your cheek.
he gives you one more smile and a, “now we can cross this one off of the list,” then in a flash he’s gone and off the bus, disappearing into the night.
it’s weird. the relationship between you two.
one minute he’s annoying the absolute reckon out of you, the next he’s placing soft pecks against your skin. you still hated him, and everything he did. his actions that somehow always left you in a perplexed state.
however, maybe what you hated most, was not the crude, antagonizing jokes, but rather the flutter your heart does at the remembrance of his lips lightly on your cheek after each and every encounter.
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yunnimilk · 3 months ago
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Bttom reader trying to top dr ratio but they miserably fail and get overestimated fast! (Smut and drabble)
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ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁₊˚⋆ - AMAB! DOMTOP! Veritas Ratio x AMAB! SUBBOT! MALE! Reader
{ ik this took a while, and it's cause I was done with it earlier but then tumblr crashed and reset all my progress bc I didn't save,, sighs }
DRABBLE ! !
NSFW UNDER THE CUT !!
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───⋆⋅☆ you were being stupid really, of course it wouldn't have happened, but you were so tired of having a sore ass that would last for weeks after your nightly "sessions" with Ratio. The sex was amazing, yes, but your spine has been broken in by his restless thrusting ,  ( ͒ ́ඉ .̫ ඉ ̀ ͒) 
───⋆⋅☆ it would be easy, right? Surely he'd be effortlessly turned into a submissive man for you. Maybe it would've worked, maybe if you didn't look so desperate to do it, maybe if you trying to top him wasn't so embarrassing to watch. Either way, you found yourself in this situation , ⚆_⚆
───⋆⋅☆ imagine, the both of you sharing an intimate moment in your shared bedroom, Ratio's lips pressing against yours, exchanging saliva. You pushed him on the bed, resting in between his legs, your fingers trailing under his thigh, but like the genius that he is, Ratio immediately knew what you were trying to attempt ! ヽ(゚ロ゚; )!!
───⋆⋅☆ he pulls the collar of your shirt and rolls you over, " what are you doing, boy. ", his voice made the whole house shake, sweat beads appeared on your forehead. You felt your mouth going dry, and although a little awkward to admit, him catching you made your dick get hard, it was leaking already , (*゚ー��*)
───⋆⋅☆ you stammered to try and say something, he chuckles at how hopeless you look, Ratio grabs the back of your hair so you could be ass up, face down. He licks his thumb to place it on your hole, admiring how it immediately tries to suck his finger in, " look at it, already begging for me to penetrate it ". You wiggle your ass a bit before he slaps your quivering hole. Sharp pains of pleasure filling throughout your body , ( ⁼̴̀ .̫ ⁼̴́ )
───⋆⋅☆ fuck,, you looked so good. Your lover felt his pants tightening up as his cock got more stiff. He very well knew that the both of you couldn't wait any longer, you heard his pants zip down, " w..wait! Veritas !- NGh! ~ ", you felt his fat cock covering every corner inside you. The head was pressing down on your prostate ! (*ฅ́˘ฅ̀*)♡
───⋆⋅☆ your screaming and moaning outweighed the plapping in the room. The hole gripping Ratio's cock was clenching and unclenching, you looked so pathetic under him. Your hands gripped the sheets, the delight feeling making your body go weak. Your cock rubbing the sheets, giving you more stimulation than you could handle, but you couldn't stop moving your body ! (ノ゚ο゚)ノ
───⋆⋅☆ you could feel his cock spasming inside of you, bumping your velvety, tight, walls in the process. Veritas felt your entrance squeezing his cock, like it's trying to milk him, drain his balls empty. You reached your earth shattering orgasm, it was like you were ascending to heaven as your eyes rolled back and you unconsciously spread your legs more , (*'-⌒*)v ♡
───⋆⋅☆ Ratio's semen infiltrated your guts, his groaning became louder as he gripped your ass cheeks, it's not a wild guess to say that it'd definitely leave a bruise. You sighed, relieved from the round, until you moaned, startled. You looked behind you to see Veritas' body rocking back and forth from his prick plunging in your hole, " c'mon, my love, you didn't think that it was over? This is a punishment, I expect you to take everything I give you. " ,  ŏ̥̥̥̥םŏ̥̥̥̥ 
───⋆⋅☆ hours passed, and your puffy hole was cumming for you, the slit in the head of your cock didn't shoot anything out 3 rounds ago, having an actual dry orgasm. Ratio's cum was leaking out of your pretty ass, your cheeks were completely with tears , ( *`ω´)
───⋆⋅☆ you were like a zombie, hoarse whimpers coming out of your mouth without knowing. The man behind you filled you up again, and his cock finally left your hole after 10 seconds. You whimpered at the loss, before his fingers plunged into you again, silently screaming from it ! (ღ•͈ᴗ•͈ღ)
" you did well, sweetheart, you may rest now "
your eyelids felt heavy as your vision began to black out
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jjenthusee · 4 months ago
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A Broken Mug
Pairing: Jason Todd x GN!Reader
a/n: i wrote this because of @janybabyy hilarious comments on my last angsty drabble. It made my morning and I wanted to also contribute some fluff as an apology lol (there also might be a little steamy scene if u squint) i love reading comments and reblogs so leave some if your comfortable ENJOY (also the angsty drabble is here)
tags: tons of fluff, shameless flirting
3.5k words
When Jason went out on patrol, you busied yourself filling the time with aimless activities and chores until he came home. You didn’t plan on trying to shift your sleep schedule with his reversed one, but with your lenient job and bad sleeping habits, nothing was really stopping you.
You got to see him come back from patrol and took naps on the couch together, so you didn’t see any problem with it. Tonight was also any other night that you were walking around the apartment getting any chores done.
Your usual weekly mop and washing your dishes at three in the morning was productive. Until you tried to see how many mugs you can try to carry from the drying mat to the cabinet, then you dropped two mugs.
An old shark mug that would be missed and Jason’s birthday mug you got him last year. You wished you could reverse time, but you stood there watching the mess you created.
Now with the broken pieces, a tube of super glue and your will, you sat on the floor studying how to put the mug back together. The rug in your living room doubled as your current operating table as you laid your supplies around the fragments of Jason’s previous birthday gift.
You had two hours to make it looked like nothing happen, not cry and figure out if you picked up all the pieces. Then apologize to Jason and promise to never pick up a mug again.
You looked at your finished handiwork, eyeing the glued ceramic pieces of Jason’s mug.
It looked bad. The glue had settled in some of the smaller pieces, but almost the entire tube was gone and you were out of options. Maybe some last finishing touches, but that wouldn’t fix the problem of it being broken in the first place and you weren’t sure if this was even safe to drink out of anymore. If it didn’t leak.
Now your boyfriend’s precious mug became the victim of your carelessness. The handle broke off completely and the rim had several chipped pieces. With a final attempt you managed to somehow pray that the handle fit and it did, but there were definitely pieces that didn’t fit that smoothly.
Luckily, when the mug fell it didn’t fall onto the floor like the other victim, but onto the kitchen counter. The impact could’ve been worse, but some higher understanding kept most of the mug still intact, but ceramic was fragile, so only so much could be held together against the force of gravity.
“Maybe he won’t notice?” You sighed defeatedly picking at the dried glue.
“Notice what?”
You nearly jumped out of your skin at Jason’s voice. You didn’t expect him to be casually standing near the window, standing tall behind you in full Red Hood gear.
You always did manage to forget about his stealth and agility. You nearly smacked him with a pan when you thought a burglar was in your kitchen when you first started dating. Good thing the flowers he brought with him were unharmed.
After closing the window, he slowly removed his leather jacket and gloves with visible exhaustion in his movements, relieved to remove a layer of his nightly outings.
“Welcome home.” You softly spoke, but a bit of strain crept into your voice at the realization that you didn’t clean your mess in time. You whipped your head back to your crime scene that sat in front of you.
Trying to act as naturally as possible, you capped the glue shut.
“Another night of being a handsome vigilante taking down kidnappers and stopping drug trafficking?” You teased as you shifted your body fully toward Jason, no doubt the slight hesitation in your voice giving you away, but you grabbed the tube of super glue, quickly shoving it in your sweatpants pocket as you spoke.
“Nah, only drug trafficking.” Jason lazily said, not paying direct attention to your awkward movements as he emptied his hidden arsenal of weapons off his body. “I made Roy handle the kidnappers.” A hint of amusement in his voice as he stretched his body, muscles contorting. The movement more visible with his jacket off.
“Only drug trafficking.” You tried mimicking him, giving a bad deep voice impression. You slid the mug closer to you, flush against your back so he wouldn’t see it from his angle.
Jason stopped in the middle of his post-patrol routine to look at you. His helmet tilting at you slightly, analyzing you.
Shit. He noticed something.
“Jay, my love, did you shine your helmet recently? It looks shiny and I couldn’t help but notice—“ Your voice quickly died as your gaze shifted from his red helmet down to his hands on his utility belt, lazily resting on the release latch. The look was…wow.
“Cleaner and polish.” Jason spoke slowly, clearly feeling smug under his helmet. He was all too familiar with that look in your eyes. You could practically see the smirk forming.
Click. The belt released as it fell loosely around his waist. Your mouth felt dry. You snapped yourself out of your thoughts.
You can eye-fuck him later, you wanted to hide the cup, but delaying your apology until tomorrow didn’t feel right.
Jason gave one last glance at you, then resumed his attention to his gear as he took the belt off.
“I was thinking we could eat something simple tonight…or morning? I guess it’ll technically be breakfast.” You shifted to get up, grabbing the cup along with you. Thankfully you were able to grab the handle while keeping your eyes on Jason, making sure it wasn’t entirely noticeable.
Jason removed his helmet, a puff of air releasing as he placed it on the dining table.
“Wanna cook something or pick up? It’s kinda limited since it’s early, but there’s always something open.” His voice was clearer, more defined without the modulator distorting it. A slight raspiness that poked at you.
Without the helmet, you could see Jason’s messy hair, matted in some places and fluffier in others, a slight stubble pricking his jaw and that sweet exhausted expression that made him mellow. Your heart raced every time you saw Jason’s face after a night of patrol.
You need to focus. You were getting distracted.
A distraction. That’s what you needed.
With the cup still held behind your back, you walked to Jason as he was placing his belt on the back of the dining chair. He didn’t expect the sudden closeness, but didn’t refrain from it. He looked more…curious than anything.
Jason watched as you reached for his face with your free hand. You didn’t fully extend your arm, purposefully leaving some distance that he would have to fill himself. Giving him the time to come to you.
Sometimes Jason needed time to adjust after a night of patrol, some days he wanted to come to you and other days you had to step in and make baby steps towards him, guiding him back to the domestic life he shared alongside you. Either way you waited and were willing to wait as long as he needed.
This was one of the moments you reached out first, asking to touch him. It was a quiet signal letting your hand hang in the air. Sometimes he held that hand or he let you caress his face. Despite how much you told him he didn’t have to follow it every time, he always did. Like telling you ‘no’ would end him.
Like a magnet, Jason lowered his face placing his cheek in your hand, placing a kiss inside of your palm.
Your heart raced as you watched his careful movements.
He moved his own hand over yours, intertwining your fingers together, but keeping your hand on his cheek. His skin was slightly cold, but he kept your hand in his and he rubbed his face on your palm trying to absorb your heat. It must’ve been freezing outside, maybe you need to get him some hand warmers to keep in his jacket, but a part of you also wanted him to use you to warm himself up.
You felt him sigh as his lips touched your skin. His eyes closed as he fully lost himself in the moment, it felt like he was giving you a silent ‘I missed you’ as he refused to move from you and you squeezed his hand, hopefully giving the message back.
As he breathed your scent in, you counted his eyelashes while you waited, refusing to disrupt his moment from decompressing from patrol. You loved seeing his face from this angle because you could see that some of his eyelashes were white like his hair. It wasn’t that prominent, but your heart fluttered that you were probably one of the only people to know.
Your thumb caressed the edge of his eye, watching him lean into your hand more.
Jason’s eyes opened, barely enough to gaze at you, but you wouldn’t miss the devotion that sat in his eyes. He trusted you and is willing to give himself to you, to let you touch him. To ruin him, if you desired.
“Jay…” You breathlessly spoke into the intimacy pulling at you.
Jason stayed still, waiting for permission, for you to lead him in whatever direction you wanted. All of his resolve focused on what you desired. He was hesitant to even breathe too hard, if it meant you would move away.
You carefully leaned into him, mindful to not touch him more than you already were. Moving your hand from his cheek to the back of his neck. Pushing your fingers through the edges of his hair, his labored breathing on your lips as you hovered over his mouth, just near enough to touch his lips if you spoke.
You wanted his full attention.
You couldn’t tell if you tugged him first or he leaned in, but you were too lost in the kiss to care. You started with a gentle touch, but once Jason angled his face to bring your body closer to him, it felt like he wanted to engulf you.
You felt his fingers slowly itch onto your waist, playing with the fabric of your shirt. You flinched, surprised at the sudden, but welcomed touch. You moved your hand holding the cup—you forgot about the mug!
Luckily, your realization went unnoticed by Jason. He pressed into you, leaning your neck further back to adjust to his height. The new development let a sound reach his throat, but with your bodies this close, you could feel the murmur. Your stomach fluttered.
Before his hands could move toward your back, you maneuvered your arm still holding onto the cup to avoid getting tangled. You laid your arm on his shoulder, holding the mug by its handle, careful to not let the mug touch him, letting him get even closer.
The movement allowed him to breathe onto your mouth, lost in your contact. It made your stomach warm at the sound.
Your mind went blank and you instinctively followed the movements of the man in front of you. You lead him to this point, but with the permission you gave him, he followed his desires. You wanted him to want more, he barely asks for things and he deserved to be spoiled.
His hands found the edge of your shirt, placing his cold hands underneath onto your bare waist, rubbing the skin with his thumbs.
You shuddered. He watched the tremor in your body, resting his nose next to yours. Dwelling in intimacy and shaky breaths.
Once his hands started to warm against your heated skin, you looked up to him. Watching his reddened skin. Maybe you can mention the mug now.
“Jay…I broke—“
Jason was too infatuated with the moment and holding you in his embrace that he didn’t comprehend anything you were saying. He took advantage of your mouth opening to deepen the kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck, to keep yourself from falling and to somehow find a way to merge your body with his.
You took a sudden breath, releasing yourself from Jason’s mouth. A sudden…hunger in his eyes as he watched you breathe. You gripped onto the handle of the mug and Jason’s broad shoulder, overwhelmed by the combination of Jason’s touch, breathing and look.
He must’ve not felt any different as he nipped at your jaw, using his hand to cup your neck and angle your face up to give him more access.
“Jay—“ You breathlessly pleaded.
Clink.
The handle of the mug broke off, leaving the handle in your hand and the rest of the cup bouncing off of Jason’s back and shattering on the floor.
Both of your movements stop as Jason shoves you behind him, shielding you from the imaginary attacker.
You could only see the back of his shoulders and his flushed ears peaking out as you looked at the broken handle still in your hand.
“Jay…it’s fine.” You tapped his shoulder to point to the cup broken on the ground. “It’s my fault.”
“Wha?” Jason asked, still breathless as he was ready in attack mode.
“I was trying to tell you, but I—got distracted.” You cleared your throat.
Jason leaned down taking some of the broken pieces near his boot in his hands. Recognizing the fragments once he got a closer look.
“I’m sorry. I tried to fix it, but then I guess super glue isn’t as reliable as I thought—“
“Sweetheart—“ Jason soothed as he stood up.
“Then I forgot about the time and you came back before I could figure out what to do. I can buy you a new one—“
“Sweetheart, it’s okay.” He placed his hand under your chin, grabbing your attention. “It’s really alright.”
“But look at it.” You defeatedly gestured to the broken handle still clutched in your hand.
Jason could only laugh watching his partner sadly show him the aftermath of their handiwork, his full set of teeth visible, giving him the cute boyish look you loved.
“You don’t have to apologize, it’s really okay.” He grabbed the handle out of your hands. “I’m glad you didn’t cut yourself from the broken pieces, but we don’t need to fix it.”
He had a smirk on his face.
“Especially with super glue.”
“Hey! I had to use what we had in the drawers.” You puffed.
He placed the pieces on the counter. Carefully moving you to the couch, so you don’t step on any sharp pieces. Cleaning up the mess of his cup.
You silently watched, making you feel worse. Jay noticed your sullen look and consoled you as he swept up any left over pieces.
“I have shoes on still and your in your socks, I just want to make sure it’s safe.”
You frowned further.
A small tender smile spread across his face as he properly disposed of the remaining pieces and walked over to the couch. Your eyes followed his form as he kneeled in front of you, making him sit just below your eye level with your legs in between his, gently taking your hands in his as he methodically rubbed your skin with his thumb. His hands were warm now, probably from your earlier…activity.
“My love, it’s okay. We can replace it or get an entirely new one.”
“But it was a matching set.” You rubbed his hands back.
“Doesn’t mean we can’t choose a new set.” You looked up from both of your hands to his gentle gaze, filled with so much warmth and understanding. “I’ve been meaning to take us to that new pottery place you talked about. We can each make a mug, okay, sweetheart?”
You brought his hands to your lips, gently placing a kiss on his rough hands. A mesmerizing hum left Jason’s mouth.
“Can you make one for me and can I make one for you?” You quietly asked.
Jason laughed, the cute smile poking through again.
“I would love that.”
Maybe breaking Jason’s mug wasn’t so bad after all.
Your date to the pottery place was even better than you expected. You got to try something new, Jason made a few cheesy Ghost pottery scene jokes that the instructor probably heard too often and you got to watch Jason’s hands intricately make your brand new mug.
You were internally thanking your clumsiness for breaking his cup earlier in the week and blessing you with the scene of your boyfriend’s biceps. You wish you could brand the memory into your eyes.
Now you tried to concentrate as you painted Jason’s mug. You both decided on painting things about the other person onto the cup, a completely unique design.
You managed to decide on an overall simple red color (surprising, I know), paint a wonder woman emblem and a simplified doodle of Jason’s face. It was your proudest work.
You even snuck in a clumsily written “I love you” with a tiny Red Hood doodle at the bottom of the inside of the cup. A cheesy surprise for him.
“I don’t think I’m made for the arts.” Jason carefully held the paint brush in his hands.
“Don’t say that, your mug shape looks better than mine. Sorry that I made yours a little wonky.” You looked at the slightly slanted rim of the mug.
“I love wonky. You know me so well.” He playfully flirted.
You chuckled at your love-struck boyfriend. You could have given him a ball of clay and he would’ve proudly kept it on his nightstand. You just rolled your eyes at him, knowingly that you also didn’t care if Jason bought a plain cup and handed it to you. You would love it all the same.
A small quiet silence, both lost in your individual masterpieces. You looked up to watch Jay, who concentrated with furrowed brows, trying to add his iconic red bat symbol to your cup. When you noticed he also painted a couple cracks around the handle, clearly digging at the broken handle you religiously held onto earlier that week.
“You’re never going to let that down.” You sighed.
“Huh?”
You pointed at the handle, a smirk appearing on his face.
“Of course, sweetheart, I wish I could’ve gotten a picture of how sad you looked. I would’ve made it my wallpaper.” He chuckled.
“Don’t make fun of me, I was really nervous about telling you. And I lost a pair of sweats because the super glue decided to permanently close my pocket.”
“I’m not, I thought it was cute.” He looked up from your mug. “Besides I already saw it when I crawled into the apartment.”
“What!?” You almost shouted. “What do you mean? You knew?”
“I didn’t know anything, just saw it, but you gave yourself away after you called me ‘my love’ and then I just wanted to see what you were planning.” He finished painting the outline of his iconic bat symbol. “You always call me that when you’re up to something.”
“That’s embarrassing.” You put your paint brush on the table, attempting to cover your flushed face with the back of your hand, careful to not put any paint on your face. “I thought I managed to get past you, but I guess making out doesn’t really count as a distraction.”
“Oh, no, I was distracted, so I guess your plan worked.” He placed his finished work on the table. “But, you’ll have to try harder next time, my love.”
He was getting too cocky now.
“If I tried harder, you would have a hard time getting up in the morning, my love.” You teased.
Jason’s eyes widened. A second to process what you said, then a brazen look in his eye appeared.
“What if that’s my plan all along, my love?” He shamelessly asked.
You leaned in closer to Jason’s side, hiding your voice away from the other customers in the shop.
“One of us isn’t going to be able to walk and it won’t be me.” You joked, both of you laughing at one another. You moved away from Jason. “I think we better stop before we get kicked out, your Ghost jokes earlier already have us on the instructor’s last straw. If it’s not cringy jokes, we’ll be kicked out for indecency.”
“There goes my plans of making out next to the kiln.” Jason shook his head. “I guess it would be bad if we couldn’t pick up our mugs later.”
Your eyes widened at your boyfriends hidden plans. A small twinkle of mischievousness in his eyes.
“We have to change up our make out spots once in a while, can’t let them catch on.” You playfully nudged his arm.
Jason smiled and brought your hands up to his mouth, a small kiss on your knuckles that were covered in paint.
A flutter inched in your stomach at the brief contact.
“Then we should schedule a knitting class tomorrow.”
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lunarmoves · 11 months ago
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indirect continuation of this sun kiss drabble
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you were being tailed for quite some time now.
you noticed by accident—a strange shadow in the corner of your eye as you made your way through the pizzaplex after hours for your nightly tasks. it was gone almost as soon as you'd turned your head to look at where it'd been. at first you figured you were just seeing things—maybe the shadows cast by the bright neon lights were playing tricks on you. maybe the late hours walking around the massive mall were making you tired.
but when you started to feel the prickle of your hairs standing straight—the burn of a gaze watching your every move—you realized exactly what you were dealing with. or rather, who.
"moon, why are you following me?" you sighed out sometime halfway through your shift, stopping in your trek to the arcade room to fix a few broken machines. hands placed on your hips, you looked up at the ceiling and tried to make out any odd shadows or faint gleams of metal. but when moon didn't want to be found, well... you could spend your entire night looking for him and you wouldn't be able to catch even the smallest of glimpses.
you waited patiently for a few moments, surveying around you in case he'd reveal himself. "moon, i know you're there." silence, complete and utter silence. you gave him another minute, then let out a huff. fine, if he wanted to mess with you tonight, whatever. it wasn't like you weren't used to it.
just as you took another step in the direction of the arcade, you heard it. the faintest, faintest jingle of a bell somewhere to your left. your head snapped in that direction, eyes moving from the polished floor of the pizzaplex to the darkest corners of the ceiling. there was a supply closet not too far from you, its door closed. you squinted at it suspiciously for a moment, then turned to make your way back t—
"boo."
you yelped—of course you fucking yelped—and swung at moon's upside-down face out of instinct more than anything. he was directly in front of you—nearly nose to nose in a way where you only really saw the redness of his eyes swallowing you whole. he dodged your punch easily, lifting himself up into the air with his wire so that your fist passed harmlessly under his dangling hat.
you exhaled harshly, your heart pounding away in your chest and your ears. it felt like you'd gotten the life sucked out of you. "you—!! gah! stop doing that!!" you huffed and straightened up to glare at him. you didn't think it was all too intimidating in his eyes.
he chuckled, a low thing that always made something in your gut feel strange, and said no more. only watched you from where he hung upside down in a pose reminiscent of a past spiderman movie. you eyed him, waiting to see if he'd say anything else. but when he didn't—his head clicking side to side ever so minutely—you frowned.
"what's wrong?" you asked bluntly. his head cocked to the left. "why have you been sulking around me all night?"
moon grumbled something indecipherable. "wasn't sulking."
"was too. what gives?" you pressed further, crossing your arms across your chest. he looked away, avoiding your gaze, and you knew something was bothering him. "you hadn't done that in a while. i thought we were past the 'stalking' part and on the, y'know, 'hanging out like friends do' part."
he only hummed shortly and turned his faceplate to look somewhere off to the side—at the door of the closed storage closet. your foot tapped against the smooth floor for a bit, waiting once more to see if he'd say anything. he didn't.
"moooon, c'mon use your big boy words." you approached him, popping back into his view so he wouldn't have any choice but to look at you. "i can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong." your words were gentle like a soft, spring breeze.
there was the slightest flicker of his optics as he glanced at your face. then he made a low sound—a groan of sorts—and seemed to struggle with saying something. your patience knew no bounds, so you were willing to wait however long it took for him to spill those pesky feelings of his. but when he only fell silent once more, you decided that this wasn't going to go anywhere.
"okay, fine"—you threw up your hands and turned on your heel so you could return to your actual job—"you don't wanna tell me, that's fine. i'll just go back to—"
you barely got a few steps away before your words were cut off by the back of your shirt being tugged on. your head craned back just in time to see moon flip himself down from his wire—landing nimbly on his feet, quiet as a mouse. and then he was dragging you towards the supply closet.
"hey! moon what—" you were crowded into the closet with little flair, tripping and stumbling over yourself no thanks to moon's tight grip on your shirt. the door closed behind you with a small snap. and suddenly you were in darkness, illuminated only by the soft glow of moon's ruby eyes. you blinked widely in the hopes of getting your vision to adjust faster.
your foot accidentally kicked a bucket somewhere to your side, sending it rattling onto the floor. it was cramped in here, especially with moon's lanky figure pressing against your front. his hands gripped tightly along your upper arms. you could feel shelves stocked with cleaning supplies pressing uncomfortably into your back. there was hardly any room to move.
you felt small—overpowered. caged in with the only exit blocked off by an unrelenting robot.
you stared up at moon with what you hoped was a flat expression, his face and upper arms just barely visible to you in this absolute void of a closet. "what are you doing." it felt like you couldn't speak any louder than a whisper for fear of breaking something you could not see.
moon's gaze trailed over your face, cataloguing every feature, before it landed on— on.... your mouth suddenly felt like it was stuffed with cotton, dry and unpleasant.
"you..." he suddenly spoke up in a quiet, raspy murmur, leaning himself down further into your space. it allowed the strain on your neck to abate slightly. "you and sun..." you slowly nodded your head, maybe as a way to encourage him to continue when it was obvious how hesitation lined his voice. "...you gave him a kiss."
your heart picked up its pace, thrumming in your ears. you did give him one some time ago—saved only from his strange pestering when the daycare's lights had switched off and you were able to escape during his painful-sounding transformation into moon. you hadn't seen him since, too rattled by his intense insistence. it made you feel... weird. "i did. and?"
"i... would also like one." the words came out in a rush—like he was forcing them out in a hurried exile.
something burned ferociously at the sides of your face and neck. you wondered if he could hear how erratic your pulse was. you hoped not.
"is that why you forced us into this dinky closet?" you whispered, refusing to let yourself sound anything but casual. like his request wasn't causing something torrential to swarm around in the pit of your stomach. you were suddenly reminded that their dual A.I.s allowed them both to see what was happening no matter who was in control. that moon had been watching sun demand a kiss from you before. and that sun was watching now.
you swallowed heavily and moon's gaze followed the bob of your throat in a manner that made you suppress a shiver.
"yes," was his simple, hushed reply. closer and closer, his face was but a hair's breadth away from your own.
your breaths bated. you closed your eyes for a short moment in a vain attempt to collect yourself. his request was simple. you didn't need to make a big deal out of it. it was just a kiss, and he was just a robot. it didn't mean anything. the words became a mantra in your head.
you exhaled, low and slow. "okay." an agreement that weighed more than you realized at that moment.
curiosity is not a sin, you reminded yourself. but yet— you were being forced to face something you knew would have repercussions. you only hoped it wouldn't be anything strong.
after bolstering yourself with as much courage as you could, you raised yourself up on your tiptoes to close that minute distance between you and moon. to press a gentle kiss to his forehead and hope that it would be enough for him.
but moon— moon had learned from sun.
and before you could realize what he was doing, he shifted himself forward in a rather fluid manner—towards you. so that your lips would land soundly in the middle of his static smile instead of where you'd intended. something leapt up in your chest.
you weren't sure what you'd expected. fireworks and confetti? the soft plushness of another person's lips pressing back against yours? had your mind been tricked into thinking it would be something familiar with his facsimile of a mouth? but no, there was just the cool solidness of a metallic smile. it was like kissing a wall—immovable and unyielding.
and yet... and yet it wasn't.
for the grip moon had on you was tight. tight tight tight. unwilling to let you go. his hands had shifted so that one pressed hotly (hotly? your hazy mind registered distantly) against the small of your back while the other wrapped around your shoulders. and he held you so fervently. like he could press you into him and meld you both into one. like he was scared to ever let you go.
and that was enough, you think, as you lose yourself not to a kiss, but to a hold. that was enough.
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satoruhour · 11 months ago
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a/n: not sure if other countries have rubbish chutes but my country does! i have to get out of my house to go to the common floor chute to throw my rubbish so this is just a little drabble based on that + spider-man!gojo :) / tagging @osaemu @jabamin @shotorus @hyomagiri @mysugu ✶
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“yes, yes! i’ll take out the trash—” you’re shouting to your mom when you’re called upon again, the third time within ten minutes to take the trash out. through your one-sided airpods (your left one always dies first), you can hear your mom tying the plastic bag and cleaning up at the sink.
it’s always been her bringing it to the chute outside your house; occasionally, you’d help but routine has never really let you do it, so later when you’re awkwardly tucking your phone into your pocket and listening to charlie burg’s voice through the right airpod, you can’t help the grimace that takes over your features at the wetness all over the trash bag.
“oh, it’s just water; stop being dramatic!” your mom chastises whilst on her nightly cup of water, gulping down the beverage before nodding towards the master bedroom, “i’m gonna go to sleep first.”
you hum in a half-hearted response, a little annoyed that you were interrupted from your lazing around but you still manage a soft goodnight when she disappears into the room and the house falls quiet. apart from the background classical music that plays from the stereo in the room and the laughter of the older kids downstairs outside, you’re living in a world of both music and silence, feeling a little disoriented by the one-sided song.
the walk to the outdoor chute is short in your oversized puffer jacket, flip-flops seemingly slapping against the floor in attempts of waking up all your neighbours beside you but thankfully they don’t seem to mind when you walk past their homes. it’s cold, feeling the snow that beats into the open corridors that lead to the rubbish chute. beside it, there’s a ledge that overlooks the other buildings, too.
with one swift step to the foot lever, the chute opens and you’re dumping the trash bag into the dirty, stained metal device and with a listening ear, you grin when you hear the bag travel through the tunnel and reach the bottom with a big plunk!, not really realising the ledge now held something.
or someone.
“h—”
if your slippers didn’t wake the neighbours up, your scream definitely did when spiderman himself hops off the ledge and leaps forward to place his palm over your mouth. it only fuels your desire to scream even more before you remember that your damn boyfriend is the vigilante that the police are looking for and citizens are rooting for more and more and that calms your racing heart just a bit.
but you still give him his due treatment . .
“what!” smack. “the!” smack. “fuck!” smack. “were!” smack. “you!” smack. “thinking?!” smack.
. . even if the widening of his spider-man mask eyes were adorable.
“sorry! sorry, sorry—” spider-man!gojo only continues to apologise but you can tell he’s enjoying it at least a little, hands gripping your biceps to help you to centre yourself. and as you predicted, once your boyfriend pulls off his mask, there’s a shit-eating grin and a cheeky glint in his eyes.
you muster the most unimpressed face you can — “really? i’m starting to think you’re not really sorry,” your mouth twists when you roll your eyes, getting ready to make a show of heading back into your house before he brings you into his arms. even with a hint of faux protest from you, you’re melting into his embrace, grumbling into his chest.
there’s a hint of wetness along his suit that you feel against your body, probably from the snow outside, but mostly you can feel the cold air against your hair and laboured breaths in your ear.
“i am! i missed you . .” he mumbles, suited fingers gripping your body tight against him like you were an apparition, “i just wanted to, uhm—”
it’s rare that you see your boyfriend having such a hard time with words, but it’s a cute sight when he pulls away and stumbles in his sentences and quickly removes the backpack that he’s webbed to the wall outside. there’s a noise of surprise from you as you watch him crawl outside on all fours and rip the backpack, scrambling to remove something from it.
and you’re so caught off-guard — in his hands are a ruined bouquet of flowers and a mixtape he’s put together for you — that you giggle at the state of it and coo at his downcast expression. he’s looking in the bag, outside, anywhere for what might’ve been the culprit to make the flowers turn out that way until he realises he had bought them a tad bit early and had been swinging around with it the whole day.
“aw . . satoru, they’re still pretty!” you take the gift with grateful hands, something you cherish despite his busy schedule of school and fighting villains. “but maybe don’t go on missions when you’ve got fresh flowers in your bag?”
satoru whines at that as he instinctively webs his backpack again, sulking until you’re leaping forward to give him another tight hug. alas, you would’ve preferred the comfort of his familiar hoodie but you can settle for the spandex of his suit as you squeeze him tight, ignoring the cold air that seeps into your bones.
“thank you, thank you ’toru . .” you smile, pulling away slightly before you take in the state of him. you didn’t have much time before, but now you can fully appreciate his white stark hair that matches the snow outside and the blue of his eyes that mirror his suit.
“it’s the thought that counts right?” he asks awkwardly, scratching his head with the hand that clutches his mask.
you burst out laughing, “yes. yes it indeed is,” you smoothen out his hair, but not before you’re forming an idea, “i’ll— i’ll go put these in water and see if i can salvage them. you, stay here.”
with one peck to his cheek, you’re off back to your house but the bouquet of flowers is only left on your bedside table. in your hands are something else, a scarf and beanie that you take back to the area of the rubbish chute.
it’s not a place you deem romantic, but you’d never pass up a surprise visit from your superhero boyfriend. when you get back he’s removing the fallen petals from his bag, interrupting his activity when you place the scarf around his neck.
“here,” you smile, wrapping it around once and tucking in the ends, “it’s cold.”
satoru looks at you like everything good in the world, a bright grin breaking through when your eyes meet his in the midst of your adjusting.
“just so you know, you might not see this scarf ever again, sweetness.”
you laugh, “why? cause it’s got my scent all over it?”
gojo shrugs and gestures, “partially, but also it might fall off while i’m doing big boy things and swingin’ around in the neighbourhood.”
you push his shoulder lightly and joke, “if my scarf touches the city ground, you’re never hearing from me again.”
and all he does is cross his heart and hold out his hand, “i humbly hold your promise to my heart, your royal highness.”
gently you pull him towards you with the scarf ends, careful not to choke him. there, your lips collide with his glossed ones that manage to stay like that despite the cold weather, while your chapped ones only surprise him. but he swallows the shock soon enough, humming into the kiss softly as he wraps his suited arms around you. you’re so warm, puffer jacket and all and his neck is already heating up from the scarf and his flustered state, enough heat to fuel him through the night.
when oxygen becomes scarce you find that you need to pull away, met again with his pretty eyes that soften just by looking at you, but you both know that he needs to go when the notifications on his phone don’t stop. it’s probably his trackers notifying him about the villain, so you help him put on his mask, making sure the eye holes fit exactly where it needs to go and the sewing lines up with the rest of his suit. the beanie goes on last.
“baby— i . . i just needed to come see you before i fight green goblin,” he mumbles, brushing hair from your face and even with the barrier between the both of you, you know he’s smiling under, “some good luck would suffice, don’t ya think?”
“it would. now, go.” you pat his cheek, pulling away reluctantly as he slings his backpack and you suddenly feel cold again. “stay safe, spider-man.”
satoru cannot wait until he’s in your arms again, so he lunges forward and pulls his mask up just to his nose to give you one last kiss and you indulge him; when your eyes open, he’s already on the ledge.
“merry christmas, baby.” you can see the familiar stunning smile and a soft confession before he’s hopping off and you’re running to it to watch him swing away with a loud, lovesick laugh that sounds a little too much like the star student, gojo satoru, but it doesn’t matter when you know you’re the only one who knows his secret.
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part two
1K notes · View notes
hoseoksluna · 7 months ago
Text
WHITE | jjk
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pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x wine!oc
genre: smut
word count: 8.1k
summary: craving white wine, your boyfriend would do anything for you—even let you dom him.
pinterest board: wine
warnings: alcohol consumption, wine!oc is dominant and she's enjoying it, plushie used in a sexual intercourse, dd/lg, jk is desperate and so horny, hand job, oral sex (m. + f. receiving), fingering, squirting, raw sex, the importance of sex being imperfect, use of sex toys — yes, plural, dirty talk, spanking, face riding
note: i'm genuinely sorry for this—SDFKJDSLFJDSLFJS. this is the last wine drabble <3 i loved writing about them again, ugh i missed my babies so much. would you, guys, also like me to write two drabbles about the steam series? i feel like it would only be fair like this. vote in the poll below, pwease. <3 hope you like this last installment.
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Your boyfriend has an immense, insane amount of energy. 
You have partly yourself to blame. It’s Saturday night, summer at full blast and you felt it thrumming so deeply and intensely within your veins that you found yourself craving your most favored mood-lifter in the world. 
White wine. 
You’ve almost spent every weekend drinking myriads of different alcoholic beverages, but the white nectar is something you’ve quite neglected. Well, not so much as neglected, but forgotten about entirely. The last time you drank it, you and Jungkook were on far, far different terms. Fuck buddies with a degradation kink, skipping a party because you got horny again. You wonder if things would’ve turned out the same way if you hadn’t decided to spice up your getting ready time with that drink. Would it change the course of events that led him to confess his feelings for you? Would you have allowed yourself to fall for him, had he not made you drunk with his allure?
You only had to mention your thirst and Jungkook was quick to get up to his feet, take his keys, phone and wallet and he was out the door before you could say anything else. Your fond giggles vibrated across the room—so much that Bam lifted his head and jumped on your lap and so you spent the remaining time alone cuddling with the canine friend, catching up in your lovey-dovey dog language, kissing him all over until you dolled him up with red lipstick marks. 
He looked so good. Was happy about it, too, because when his Daddy came back, he was similarly quick to show him. 
And Jungkook, he laughed so hard that he clutched his own stomach, doubled over, his shoulders shaking. Then, he sat next to you on the couch, pulled you in for a hug as if he hadn’t seen you in years and very solemnly told you that it was his turn now. 
The words that tumbled out of you were so swift, without any kind of embrace of thought beforehand, that you didn’t have the time to consider the consequences they would come with until they dazzled you. Through and through, ridding you of your sense of sight. 
“You’ll get your kisses only if you show me that you bought the wine.” 
Jungkook’s eyes grew in size, darkened in nightly fashion. Twinkles flickering, dimly. The atmosphere, the dynamic and energy shifted, folding into something you haven’t yet experienced in such depth, calming your eyes until they blended back into normalcy. And you wouldn’t perceive it for what it truly was, had Jungkook not wordlessly left to fetch his bag from the convenience store, along with a corkscrew and two glasses, and had he not crouched in front of you. 
The view left you stunned. The blatantly obvious fact, too. 
The fact that, somehow, you were in control.
And it was so different from the last time due to a simple reason. Jungkook wasn’t the one who initiated it. Didn’t tell you to be in charge. Didn’t give you his control in words, in commands. No, it happened arbitrarily, on its own and Jungkook submitted to it. Submitted to you. Put down his control once he lowered his form between your knees, giving it to you this way, silently. 
A thing of utter beauty, filling you up with vibrancy, enthusiasm and… passion. 
He showed you his haul, unloading it onto your lap. Sparkling white wine in a golden bottle, dog treats, cheese and crackers and… Miffy. 
Miffy in a way you haven’t seen her before. 
Made into a sleeping position. Black eyes shut, round butt risen in the air, even rounder tail perked, body soft and drowsy. Bigger than the bunny resting alone on his bed in the other room. 
You purred, squeezing her hard before you hugged her to your chest, careful not to smear your makeup on her when you pushed her up to your neck. Looked at your quite small boyfriend with a ravening gaze as you said, “You got bunny a sister, how cute. Well done.” 
Your praise coaxed a noise out of Jungkook that you never heard before, one that stirred the eternally slumbering beast in you that had not once seen the night enveloping you. A concoction, most delicious and arousing, of a whimper and a hum. It settled within your core, teasing you there, making you want more. You told him, or the beast more like, to open the wine and he obeyed, right away. 
You watched him do it. Watched the flexing of his muscles, tense beneath the fabric of his tiger-print shirt. Watched him not spill a drop and then pour you a glass until it almost overflowed. He handed it to you, expecting you to take it from him, but you caught him off guard. 
“Taste it for me first.” 
His mouth fell agape. Remained parted when he immediately brought the glass to his lips and took a large sip. Your eyes followed the bobble of his throat as he swallowed and you gave him a big smile for it. A praise, too. 
“Good. Let me have a sip now, my hands are full.” 
In typical fashion, he drew close to you until your knees squeezed him in, legs wrapping around his torso. One hand wrapped around your hip, the other tipped the glass to your mouth and you looked at him and did not stop until you took a big gulp. 
“More.” 
He tipped it again. “Tastes good?” 
You nodded, liking the sweetness and the fizziness, but this time you didn’t swallow the nectar. Jungkook set the glass down, along with his haul, averting his gaze momentarily and you cupped his chin, bringing it back to you. Leaned in and, in a heated kiss, you spewed the wine out into his mouth. He gasped, pulling away, flushed cheeks a tiny bit full, lips pursed, one mouth end wet with a trickle flowing down. It would’ve been an adorable sight, had his eyes not narrowed, darkened further more and pierced you with such intensity that your clit gained a drum. 
Your finger felt for the top button of his shirt. “Swallow. Don’t be messy.” He did. Swore. Breathed hard. You undid the button, lifting your digit to wipe his chin clean, smearing it on his bottom lip until he opened for you. You plunged in. Let out a low sound of delight once he wrapped his puffy lips around it. 
And now here you are staring at each other, finger in mouth. His newly secured energy pulsating in him, seconds away from bursting, brutally. You can see it, vividly, and you prepare yourself for it—blaming partly yourself and, feignedly, the palatability of the white nectar for being the cause behind it. He’s waiting for the next move, countenance terribly solemn and stiff. His hands must be oh so itching to take over, but he sticks to the unspoken, patient and good. 
Taking out your finger gently, you undo the rest of his buttons, aware of the shudders zapping his body the more you reveal his smooth skin. Jungkook straightens for you, palms on your thighs, breathing heavily, a sound that brings out the strangest of oxymorons in you—simultaneous nervousness and confidence. Nervousness that you call the shots; confidence that the paintwork of his arousal is signed with your name. 
And it’s the latter that the beast plucks out, like a twig of flower off a tree. 
You push Jungkook back and slide into his lap, biting your lip at the contact of his hardness under the flimsy material of your ivory pajama shorts. His hands clasp around your small hips, but you pry them away, deeming that if you are in control, then it’s you who decides when he gets to touch you. His brows rise when you pin them down and at last he beams up at you, eyes lidded and drunk, despite the fact he merely had two sips of alcohol. Bunny’s sister rests askew in your joined laps, her head pointed towards your mound and it forces a certain idea into your muddy brain. 
One that Jungkook fleetingly interrupts. 
“You’re gonna take control of me?” 
Ooft, making it official. You hum your agreement, repositioning the plushie. Place her directly against his imprint and, pushing the soaked center of your shorts to the side, you sit down on her soft face. Begin to rock slowly. Jungkook’s breath hitches in his throat, fists clench on either side of him as well as his jaw, chin upturned. He’s holding himself back with all of his might and it is only now that you feel your wetness dripping onto the fur, now when the vibrancy of the faint pleasure spreads across your every nerve ending, now when you know that he’s struggling to keep his composure. There’s something so incredibly satisfying about it that you rock your hips harder, whimpering, hands gripping his shoulders. 
“Can you handle it?” you murmur, already knowing that he won’t be able to the moment you decide to take things further, but you give him a slither of a chance to prove you wrong, rooting for him from within with a sly smile on your face. 
Jungkook pokes his tongue in his cheek, sighing, eyes descending to your neck and to your perky, pebbled breasts under your low cut top. “I’ll handle anything you come up with as long as I get your kisses.” 
His sweet response gratifies you so much that you arch your back, lowering your hands down to his chest, the thrum on your clit becoming unbearable, the soft friction of the plushie doing very little to alleviate it. You whine, picking up your pace. “Even—even if you don’t get to touch me?” 
Jungkook hesitates, biting his lower lip. A certain sadness coasts his now big eyes that makes you coo endearingly and slow down, feel so bad for him. “Anything for you.” 
You can’t halt the groan from escaping, the groan that roots from the passion and the love you carry for him, from the principle of his submission. You’ll make it up to him. Play with him just for a little while and you’ll give him his rightful upper hand right back to him, all because he was so quick to be your little toy. Without a thought, nor a word spared. Without a struggle. He deserves it. Has come a long way. 
“You’re just my little slut, aren’t you?” You grab a hold of his throat, tip his chin up, feel his vein throbbing. “My pretty little slut. Hard for me, hm? Will do anything for me?” 
Widening his eyes, mouth parted, he moans, sucking in a breath, chest lifting rapidly. Hand automatically lifting to palm himself, just in time to realize that he can’t because the plushie and your lap is in the way. “Yes, I’m your little slut and I need you so bad. Need your kisses.” 
You hum, terribly, terribly satisfied. Horny. A fire, personified. Fire and energy—a wonderful mixture about to meet. “Where, baby?” 
His breath shakes, his being radiated by you, glistening in sweat. “Everywhere, please.” 
You drift your hands down his chest. Think he earned them now by asking so nicely. You sit back on his thighs, plushie in hand, ready to chuck her away, but then another idea comes up. 
Grabbing her by the back of her neck, you use her to kiss him. On his jaw, on his neck, on his left peck, nipple and the mole underneath, making kissing sounds. Jungkook shudders at the contact upon his most sensitive spots and you can see his disliking for it before he voices it out. You revel in it, his desperation becoming your obsession. 
“No, not from her. Please, from you.” 
But in spite of that, your craving to give him everything is stronger. 
You toss her on the couch, hands instantly clasping around his neck. You kiss him, wetly, on his Adam’s apple and he whimpers, urging you to continue. The sides of his throat, collarbones, shoulders—you mark him everywhere with your red lipstick, making a pathway down his sternum before you go sideways. Create a large shape of a heart on the left side of his peck, coloring it in with bruises, with kisses so hard that his manhood twitches in his pants. You’re so focused on adorning him, on the citrusy taste of his skin, that you don’t even sense your hands as they rid him of his shirt, unbuckle his belt and undo his button, dragging down his zipper. 
You rise to your feet, out of breath, puffy mouth, lipstick slightly smeared, head spinning. “Take off your pants and get on the couch.” 
The golden buckle of his belt catches your eye as he stands up. You wrap your hand around it and tug it out of his belt hoops harshly. There’s a hint of timidness in the vast sea of his arousal once he looks at you, aware of what you’re planning with the leather band. With a giggle, you merely wink at him and Jungkook blushes, dropping his gaze in tandem with his pants. 
“Boxers, too?” 
You edge around his side and envelop your arms around his middle, mouth pressing against his spine. A big, red mark of your lips amidst the broadness of his back. Utterly, utterly beautiful. “Smart boy, yes—off with them, now.” 
Jungkook laughs, softly, shyly. You wish you could see his blush deepen as the clenching of his abdomen divulges to you how much he liked that praise. You also wish you could feel the fluttering of the butterflies inside, if there are any at all. You’re getting to know him in such a new way that you otherwise would have never had the opportunity to do so. The shudders, the tension under his skin, the lively energy that is yearning to burst and rain upon you—it is all so awfully exhilarating, even more so the fact that you hold it all in your tender grasp. 
And he lets you. In the name of love. 
He drops his undergarment and he goes to sit down like you told him to, but you squeeze him harder against yourself. No, he’s not going anywhere. The heat, his soft skin, his gentleness and shyness—you want it all close to you, close enough to seep into your pores so it can make bed there and live there perpetually. So snug, so homely—yes, that’s precisely what it is. Home. 
You skim your hands down the defined muscles of his stomach, feeling them move under your fingers. Take his wrists behind his back and keep them there, unrestrained yet, his belt curled on the coffee table. You bring your hands back to his stomach, lowering them down—
“Can you reach me?” Jungkook asks, head turned to the side. You’re so used to degradation in your sex life that at first you thought he was mocking you, but on the contrary—he’s asking in all genuinity. With his forearms pressed to his sides, he’s bigger than he usually is and he wondered if your small form can stretch enough to touch him. 
How sweet. 
“Such a good, thoughtful boy.” You grab his length. Had to do it from the side a little bit, but you don’t mind. At least you get to see him. See the way he twists his features at the contact, see his energy and his muscles straining. “I guess I can, huh?” 
You tug at his length rapidly a few times. His body shudders again, almost doubles over before he straightens his spine, whimpers trickling out of his mouth and rooting in your heat, soaking your pajamas. And when his sounds rise in volume, you swiftly let go of him. Fetch the belt and fasten it around his wrists, leading him to take a seat on the couch. 
Manspreading, cock hard, red and long, almost kissing his belly button, hands behind his back, muscles big and flexed, face features darkened by his arousal, ravagedly fixed on you—fuck, you could come from the view. 
You sink to your knees in front of him. Itch so fucking hard to take him in your mouth and make that energy paint you in white, but watching him like this—you plan something else entirely. Pressing one kiss on his V-line, you glide your lips upon the tip of his length, making him tremble in desperation. It takes all of your strength not to give it to him, but you know he will be overjoyed with the little thought that’s swarming in your brain. 
“Where’s your fleshlight, baby?” 
Jungkook loosens a hard, flabbergasted breath and his pretty, pretty cock twitches against your mouth. 
You knew it. 
You bought the toy together yesterday. It’s still unopened in a box somewhere in his bedroom; you don’t know where he hid it. He may have not wanted to spend money on it, but when you witnessed the way his eyes glowed, you convinced him to get it. Begged him. Told him you wouldn’t leave the sex shop until he bought it and he gave in, timidly. Much to your delight.
“In the closet,” Jungkook croaks out, clearing his throat and you kiss his other V-line as a reward, kitten licking his tip for a millisecond as you rise to your feet. He whimpers, again in desperation.
“You can’t get it, can you?” you taunt, lovingly, fingers hooking under your shorts and dragging them down your hips, your top following over your head. His eyes follow your every movement, fixing on your feminine parts, muscles bulging, yearning to touch you. You grow wetter, being looked at, being desired like that. “You’re just a helpless baby.” 
He moans your name, signaling to you that there’s only so much he can take and you understand. You’re quick as you hurry to his bedroom, quick to find it, quick to pull the toy out of the box and quick to return to him. 
There’s a trickle of his male arousal gliding down his length when you stand between his legs and your own desperation to pleasure him heightens in you—so much that you’re equally quick to unfold your plan. 
You grab his chin and tip it up, harshly. Kiss him so nastily that he moans into your mouth and then… then you stare him dead in his eye. “I’m gonna put the fleshlight under bunny’s sister and you’re gonna show her how hard Daddy fucks his girls, yeah?” He’s left speechless, breathing rapidly, coated in sweat. Eyes narrowed, still darkened but now glowing with that familiar light that you saw yesterday, black irises piercing you through and through. “You should give her a name, though. Have something to moan when you fill her up, hm?” 
It’s evident, the way his brain malfunctions, but he surprises you. 
“Vinny.” 
Vinny and Bunny, how adorable. 
You coo, pecking him. “Vinny it is. Such a pretty name. I’m gonna make you nice and wet for her. Would you like that?” 
“Please.” 
You descend to your knees and you don’t hesitate to immediately take him into your mouth as far as you can. You gag around him, but you relax your throat, bobbing your head only slightly, testing yourself, wanting to stretch your throat out for him. Jungkook groans, squeaks little mewls as he doubles over once more, and the sound is so obscenely loud that your clit throbs harder in response and you would touch yourself if your craving to pleasure him wasn’t stronger. 
You pull out until you can stack both of your hands on his length and while your tongue plays with his tip, you twist your wrists. Only briefly, just to make him feel a little better before you lick him all over—just to stay true to your words. And when it’s your name that comes out of his mouth once you slobber all over him, you withdraw altogether. 
“Please… please,” Jungkook whimpers, trembling and you feel terribly bad for him. So much that you pucker your lips at him and kiss his cheek endearingly as soon as you get on your feet again, purposefully ignorant to the way your cunt likes his helplessness. 
“I got something better for you, Daddy, don’t worry,” you reassure him, slipping into the dynamic your familiarity using the title. You grab Vinny and the fleshlight, placing her on top of the toy, on the armrest of the couch—her butt and her pussy facing him. 
And when you glance at him to see his reaction to your artwork, you’re stunned by the look he gives you. Mad, mad stare. Awfully dark and menacing. It would disquiet you if didn’t know that he loved you. There’s no way you could take the liberty in toying with him like this, had you not become exclusive—had he not created a realm of safety for you to do that in. 
“I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you for this,” Jungkook threatens and the sliver of normalcy in the middle of the role-play that he caught onto makes you giddy and feel so fucking alive. The threat, too. You quiver in anticipation and excitement, grinning from ear to ear. “You’re not walking after this.” 
You laugh, softly, thrilled. “I sure hope so,” you say, grabbing a hold of his arm to lift him up. “I’m dripping for you.” 
Jungkook hisses. Won’t budge. Remains seated, looking up at you. Doesn’t reciprocate your smile. Scowls, instead. “Can I taste you?” 
You shake your head ‘no’, even if it emotionally pains you. “Not right now.” 
He sighs and you take his arm again. This time he obeys—lets you lead him into the position that you want. On his knees, still on the couch, perfectly at level with Vinny’s pussy patiently waiting for him. Jungkook looks at her for a long time, studying the silicone shape of her clit and lips. You’re certain that if his hands were free, his thumb would’ve traced her soft vulva.
“Do you like her pussy?” you ask, your grin only widening, eyes blazing, emitting hot sparkles of light. You’re perhaps more excited and enthusiastic about this than he is. 
Jungkook looks at her for a split second more before he flicks his intense gaze to yours. “Yours is prettier.” Your breath hitches in your throat and your heart follows its footsteps, skipping a beat, springing up and grazing your vocal cords. You can’t get a word out—you’re stupefied, in love, so impassioned that you resemble him with all that fire in you, taking after his energy buzzing in him. You sense the same movement in you, hotter, more vigorous. Your mouth parts and, cheeks awash with color, you’re on the verge of bursting. “Let me touch your little pussy, please.”  
You bite your lip, pause a tiny bit just to regain your composure and you sigh, eventually, gripping his face in your hand, squishing his cheeks. “I said,” you start, emphasizing your warning just to see his flush deepen like you wanted. “Not right now. Can’t you listen?” 
For a fleeting moment, there’s a heavy silence filled with his hard breaths. 
Then, Jungkook glares at you. 
“I’m gonna destroy you.” 
You chuckle, girlishly—even though his threat yet again thrums within your skin, even though your body craves to submit to him, throw the playtime away, forget about it, entirely. “Talk all you want. See where it gets you.” With your other hand, you take his length and line it up at Vinny’s entrance. “Fuck her.” 
Now—now he finally grins, a puckish smile that unnerves you a little bit, as if an idea crawled up into that smart brain of his. 
And he proves you right. 
“I’m gonna show her how I’m gonna fuck you,” he mutters, drawing closer to Vinny, to the arm rest. “Where’s the lube? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.” 
A trickle of cold sweat trickles down your spine and it’s you who’s left speechless now. You were so quick to return to him that you did forget the lube, mind void of rationality, filled with him that you forgot such an essential thing. You swear under your breath, feeling stupid. 
“Go get it before I rip this fucking belt apart and use it on you.” 
Wordlessly, embarrassed with your head down, you go back to his room and fish for his lube in his bedside drawer, noticing that it’s where he keeps the vibrator for you. You haven’t used it in so long in your playtime and you reminisce, briefly, on the last time he made you come with it. On this very bed, on his lap with bunny on yours as he rearranged your guts with the toy on your clit—teasing you by lifting it and placing it between the plushie’s legs, acting for her and screwing up his features in pleasure.
Your heart thuds at the memory, your thighs sodden with your essence, and a certain expectation creeps within its chambers. The expectation that the toy will make a comeback tonight. That is, if you even deserve it. 
You cringe at your wetness while your feet pad back to the living room. Jungkook stares you down, guilt written all over his face for being mean and it mollifies your negative feelings, dispersing them away from you. It’s enough for you—you don’t really want to talk about how you pitifully failed, nor do you want to hear a mention of it, but Jungkook seemingly does. 
Up close, his eyes are awfully soft as if he made a mistake with his last words. You don’t think he did—he’s always been the leader in your playtime, so you deem he only did the right thing. Besides, you’ve worked him up to the point of anger, so from your standpoint, he didn’t do anything wrong. You did. 
“Come here,” he says, gently, leaning in and angling his head. “Put your arms around me.” You do as he says, needing to, needing to be led for a little while before you can resume. You sink your fingers into his hair as you rest your forearms around his shoulders, even though all you want to do is rid him of his restraint and let him fuck it out of you. He kisses you with such tenderness that you whimper in sensitivity and amorousness, taking it one step further and moving your mouth against his, slipping your tongue inside. It’s a brief kiss, no matter its intensity, for he still has something to say. “You’re doing so well tonight. I never thought I’d ever get this hard from you being the boss of me. I’m sorry for snapping, you hear me?” he whispers against your lips, each movement causing his pillows to touch yours in faint, faint kisses that make your mind spin and your desire for him to lengthen across your whole body, deepening. You nod for him, hearing his words, needing them, too—glad for the honesty, for the check in, for the sliver of normalcy. “I’m just so horny and I need you. I didn’t mean it, okay? Daddy didn’t mean to talk to you like this. He loves you and you made him so needy that he’s frustrated, but it’s okay. He can handle it. Do you love your Daddy back, hm?”
You moan at the continuation of his words, running your fingers through his hair, inching closer to him until your chest softly collides with his. And his reassurement, the warm feeling of his skin, the potency of his love—it all erases your mistake, leaving only your sensual craving for him. You nod, again, like a little girl given a talking-to from her father, absorbing the lesson. “I love you.” 
Jungkook hums, pleased, pecking you. “Good. I’m gonna do what you want now, baby. Gonna make you proud, listen to every word like a good Daddy, hm? You can do anything you want to me. You’d like that? You wanna keep going?” 
You smile at him, sweetly, and he kisses your expression of contentment. It feels so good like this and you feel woozy, too. Sluggish, ready to be taken, on your way to cloud nine. You nod your head for the last time and squirt the lube all over him and Vinny’s intimate parts, your desire to take over him blending into your fuzzy feelings. 
With your help, he slides inside her, both pairs of eyes watching the slick intrusion, then meeting at once—your simultaneous groans of delight merging, fading into one another, creating one beautiful, heavenly sound, unheard by all angels and celestial beings. You hold the fleshlight steady as he bottoms out, his mouth parted, brows furrowed, eyes so heavy-lidded as he devours your gaze, your face, the pleasure he feels so overwhelming that you almost think he can’t take it. The flexing of his abdominal muscles, the roll of his hips that takes all of his strength while his arms remain restrained behind his back, his neck shiny with a layer of sweat—fuck, the sight is to die for and you melt into something boneless, jelly and gooey; becoming just a hole for him.
You can’t wait for him to fuck you. Perhaps it’s you, after all, who can’t take it. 
Jungkook begins to pound her, his mound hitting her clit with every hard motion and it strikes your awe. Your breathing quickens, the drum in your own bundle of nerves unwaveringly unbearable and what’s worse, he keeps fucking looking at you, perhaps imagining it’s your pussy that he’s ruining and your legs tremble, threatening to give out—
“Rub your pussy on the other end, please,” he begs, vocal cords so awfully strained, and this time you decide to gratify him. 
The first moan that your mouth emits makes him fuck the toy harder—so much that it slips out of your grasp. You prop your knee on the armrest, flattening Vinny’s face on the edge of the toy, so you can gain the friction you so desperately need and it works. Your cunt soaks her sleepy countenance and you flick your eyes to it, watching the fur get darker with each rock of your hips.
“Look at me,” he grunts—and you do. A hint of softness in the dark sea of his eyes, boisterous waves of arousal sloshing to and fro. “Use her like I am. Hard—” He shows you how by a stroke that reverberates through your body, stimulating your clit by bumping into it. “And then fast.” Quick thrusts that waggle with your form, your curls bouncing against your spine. 
And so you match his rhythm. It stimulates you far more than the pace you had going for yourself, your orgasm enclosing around you, inching closer and closer with each graze of your clit against the now more firm plush fur. Your brows knit, the coil in your stomach tightening to the point that it’s you who ultimately takes over and Jungkook follows, matching your rhythm, fucking Vinny faster—the silicone squeaking with each deep plunge of his length into her hole that causes your tits to slap against each other. But Jungkook doesn’t look at them. No, his eyes are set on you and you know that he knows that you’re about to come. 
Jungkook begins to pant, marked chest flushing, adorning him most finely. The knowledge is getting him there, too. “You close, baby?” 
You moan, sucking in a breath. “So close, I’m gonna come.” 
He moans with you, approving of it. “Come, then, I wanna watch you. Make her nice and wet for me, hm?” You rock your hips faster—closer and closer, gripping Vinny with all your might. “I wanna touch you so bad, princess. Kiss you everywhere. Lick that little clit. Fuck you until all that you know is my fucking name. Please—”
You come so hard that it takes both you and Jungkook by surprise, your body violently shuddering and colliding into his. He groans, deeply, following in suit, your orgasm triggering his and he sloppily fucks the toy while he watches you ride out your high, bliss enveloping you in angelic glow. 
“Yes, princess, just like that, fuck. You’re so pretty. My pretty little girl, coming so hard. Yes, fuck.” He’s losing himself, moaning your name over and over until there’s nothing left to give to Vinny, until he’s so spent that he sits back on his feet, eyes closing and opening, tongue licking his dry lips. He moans your name again, in post-high. “Please, get the belt—”
You don’t hesitate. With blurry vision and sex hormones swirling in your brain, numb by your intense orgasm, you edge around him and rid him of his restraint, flinging it somewhere away from the both of you, hating it, not wanting to see it again. 
You and Jungkook exchange a look full of soft smiles and love, with his joy like a cherry on top of that. He twists his wrists, standing up to his feet, the size difference and the sudden change in energy causing him to grow solemn. No smiles, though the love remains. You feel it thumping in the atmosphere you’re surrounded by as he completely overpowers you, naturally. And you welcome it, needing it—needing to be dominated and fucked until you’re brainless. 
“I love watching you come,” Jungkook murmurs, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and cradling the side of your face. “It’s all I want to see for the rest of my life. Every morning when I wake up and every night before I go to sleep. It’s everything to me.” 
It moves through you, his words, almost painfully with their vigor and passion, passing down your body until they settle in your core. You drip for him. Still feel so terribly lightheaded and high. “Just that, huh?” 
“And your snores.” 
You punch his arm. Jungkook laughs and gathers your hair, pulling it away from your face, stroking it down your back. A grin of your own curls your mouth. You don’t snore, at all. And you tell him. 
“You do when you’re tired.” You gasp, lifting your hand again but he catches it in time, intertwining your fingers with his. “You did such a good job today. You learn well from me. Sounded just like me. Made me proud.” He strokes your hair again and you lean into his touch, even though you don’t believe him. You could’ve done a lot better and it could’ve ended just like you planned—fucking him with that fleshlight. You guess you can save that for another time. 
You shake your head. “I messed up.” 
“But you didn’t.” He angles his head, inching closer so the gravity of his words can pierce your mind, but it does no such thing. You still have one of your own. Solid as a rock. 
“No, I shouldn’t have forgotten the lube. It ruined everything.” 
Jungkook sighs, drawing back, fondling the back of your hand before he lets go of it and clutches the nape of your neck. “Sex isn’t meant to be perfect. You didn’t ruin anything, why do you think that?” He looks at you for a long time, but you can’t take it—you drop your gaze, still feeling terrible. He calls you by your name, firmly. “Who made you think sex is meant to be perfect, huh? Bring them to me.” 
You laugh, softly, at the ridiculousness of his question. It’s him who owns your virginity—you’ve never been with anyone else before him. It’s your own expectations that make you think that. “Right here.” You point to your brain. 
Jungkook kisses your forehead. Lingers there, giving you a million tiny pecks, as if erasing everything from there that he doesn’t like. It touches you, deeply, and you can’t stop yourself from submitting to it as it melts your brain. Your mouth rounds in a pout, your bottom lip jutting out and when he gazes down upon you and sees it, he coos at you, kissing it. “I made a mistake, too, didn’t I?” You remain silent—still think he didn’t do anything wrong. “But it was still amazing and we came together, didn’t we?” 
He’s right; you’ll give him that. “You really liked it?” 
He pecks you, vehemently, on the lips and then points to the fleshlight behind him in all its glory, dripping with cum. So much fucking cum that it makes a puddle on the hardwood floor. “Do you think I would’ve cummed this much if I didn’t? Tell me, baby.” 
You swear, unable to take your eyes off of the quantity of his male essence. It draws you in, magnetically, and you obey its call, lifting the fleshlight with your hands, turning around so Jungkook sees and darting out your tongue—
“Don’t.” 
You swipe the muscle across the silicone hole, collecting his ivory arousal. Most of it trickles down your neck and bare chest and it’s Jungkook now who swears, loudly. Grabs you by your waist and, flinging the toy away, he kisses you. You didn’t even have the time to swallow. He’s tasting himself on your tongue and it causes you to moan into his mouth. He taps the back of your thighs and you jump, wrapping your legs around his torso. You don’t know where he’s taking you, but at this point you give zero fucks. 
His tender bedding grazes your back when he lays you down on it with a harsh thud, breaking the kiss and taking your breath away. Bottom lip between his teeth, he studies your soiled body with his cum, kneeling on the bed by your form. He takes his first two fingers and collects his evidence of pleasure, flicking his eyes to yours. You meet him halfway, expecting him to plunge those digits in your mouth and you’re ecstatic, wanting it badly, but Jungkook pushes you down. 
In fact, he turns you around—ass up, face down. With just one hand. 
You swear, your arousal gaining new intensity. And it’s your needy hole that he plunges his fingers in, briefly stuffing you with his cum, placing his free hand on your lower back so you can arch your spine for him more. Then, he rubs your clit in hard, slow circles, making you cry out, making your legs tremble all over again—
A spank. A brassy, cacophonous spank that drives you forward, forcing you to grip onto the sheets. 
“I told you not to do that, didn’t I?” Jungkook rasps. Doesn’t alleviate the burn. “Answer me.” 
Fuck. “Yeah, you told me not to do that.” 
You brace yourself for another spank, but it doesn’t come. You feel his lips by your ear, his body heat cocooning you as he bends over you, his fists, pitifully, on either side of your back. 
“You’re such a filthy little girl. Licking my cum off like that? Making me hard all over again for you?” he tsks, the sound making you even needier. For him, for his cock, even for another spank. You grind your ass against his hip and he maneuvers so his cock slips between your cheeks. Swears, such guttural noise that you mewl in response. “You just do what you want, huh? I guess you don’t love your Daddy anymore.” 
He spanks you again, harder than before, and your vowel of disagreement breaks at the concoction of pain and pleasure coursing through your body. “No—no, I love you.” 
Another spank. Lips by your ear again, his body clinging to your side. “You love me?” He clamps your mouth shut, preventing you from answering. 
You do, anyways, your words muffled. “I love you. I love you so much.” 
Jungkook hums in question. “What did you say? I couldn’t hear you.” He digs his fingers harder into your cheek, other hand rounding around your hip and attacking you with bolts of pleasure that make you quiver against him—rubbing your clit rapidly before he sinks his fingers inside you… and merely keeps them there. 
You move his hand away and he lets you, holding it, panting. “I love you so much.” 
Jungkook groans, sinking his fingers deeper. “Who do you love, hm?” 
He wants you to say his rightful title and you do, with all your heart. “You, Daddy. I love you.” 
At your words, Jungkook begins to pump his fingers and you cry out, placing your head on his palm, taking it. “Such a good fucking girl, making me crazy—” He growls, pressing a fat kiss on your cheek, curling his fingers slowly into that place that causes your breath to hitch in your throat, your orgasm quick to catch up to you. “Good little girl that loves her Daddy, fuck. I’m gonna give you everything. Gonna eat that little pussy, hm? You want that? Want Daddy to make you come with his tongue?” 
You squeak when he gives you one particular, hard stroke against your special place, mind numbing, a dam broken. “Yes, yes, please, Daddy, please—”
He draws away, instantly. Traces your back with his palms as he straightens, smearing your feminine essence all over your skin that he licks up. And then, his mouth—
Jungkook takes you in his mouth. All of you. Licking against your clit, sucking it, rubbing his face in your cunt and groaning against her. His hands squeeze your ass, painting it redder and he flicks your little bundle of nerves with his tongue until he senses your orgasm. Then, he pulls away for a second, stalling it. Thumbs your other, puckered hole. 
“My pretty little pussy. All mine.”
Mewling, you shake your ass for him and he growls, cursing, spanking your cheek, taking the flesh in his hand and squeezing it. Again and again, until you feel yourself drip, until you feel him spread your legs wider and nudge himself between them, opening his mouth for it to trickle down upon his tongue. 
“Sit up. Ride my face.” 
You moan before you even obey, sitting down on his tongue and grinding your pussy on it. He rolls it against you, back and forth, following your rhythm. Slow and romantic, kissing your clit every once in a while, sucking it as you keep up your movement, inching dangerously close to your orgasm. He’s in absolute control of you, though. Of your pleasure and climax, stalling it before beckoning it forth again. You lose yourself in it, in the profound and all consuming delight toying with all your nerve endings, creating something within you that diffuses you with confidence and allure, that inclines you to ride him harder, whimper a little louder and knead your breast until you leave your handprint in your wake. 
He lets you do your thing, but as you saw earlier today, there’s only so much that he can take. 
Clasping your hips, he angles them until your hole is at level with his nimble tongue, guiding you to lean back and use his chest to hold yourself steady. And like his fingers, he fucks you with the muscle, curling it each time. The filthy noise of your slick and his saliva, his breaths and hums, your obscene moans and then his thumb rubbing your clit rapidly—it’s enough, with his evident permission, for you to come. 
And you come so hard that you sprinkle his face with your dew. 
He laughs in utter joy, humming—humming deeply and you’re so obsessed with that sound that you come again, shuddering violently and he spanks you, holds you by your waist, digging in his fingerprints, allowing you to ride out your high, to use him until you’re so boneless that you slump against him. 
Jungkook drags you down, though, slipping, instantly, his cock inside of you. And it’s wild, wild butterflies that you feel in your gut owing to it, then pain so acute that you whine. Enveloping his arms around you, tightly, with no way of escaping, his wet face is so tender that you coo at him amidst the rush of your colorful feelings. Wipe away your dew, giggling, kissing him loudly as his cock adjusts in you and the bite from overstimulation withers little by little.
“You can take it, I know you can,” Jungkook whispers, beaming up at you, iridescent. “You feel so good around me. So tight. I love being inside of you.” 
Slowly, he begins to move, causing your features to scrunch up. In discomfort at first, then in relish as your stiffened nipples rub against the hardness of his chest. 
“You’re my good little girl. You take everything I give you so well. So well.” Jungkook picks up his pace, gathering your hair in his fist. Doesn’t pull on it; merely holds it. You whimper, his words loosening the overbearing tightness of your walls. “I’m gonna take care of you. You’re just my little baby. Mine—” A hard thrust. Your eyes roll back. “My baby.” 
“Yes, I’m yours,” you croak out and Jungkook takes your face in his hands and pounds into you until all you see is stars. Pretty, pretty twinkling stars. 
Slapping skin, his grunts—you don’t even see your orgasm coming, coming over you so violently and yet in such an exhilarating way. Your dew forces him out, forces his chuckles out again and he brings you back to him, kissing you, plunging his cock back with ease. 
You’re so lightheaded that you feel like an angel, soaring in the sky. An angel that years for something more. And you tell him. “Jungkook, please, I want the vibrator.” 
He merely smiles at you, arm reaching over and pulling out the toy for you from his bedside table. Turning it on, you’re radiated by the light in his eyes and you whimper in impatience. Jungkook shushes you, like a baby, clicking on the intensity until he’s satisfied, placing it on your clit. 
And then he gets up. 
Pushes you against his closet, back against the wood, legs around his waist, vibrator on your clit and his hand clasped around your mouth, preventing your loud moans from escaping while letting you know how much he loves being in charge. Giving you hard strokes that secure him your soul on a silver platter before he fucks you so fast that you can’t see anything. Your surroundings are a blur while his face remains clear, painted in tortured pleasure for you as if he were holding himself back. 
“Come for me, Daddy,” you beg under his palm, your sound muffled, but it seems that Jungkook understands you. 
Pulling away, he turns you around and gets into position again. One hand around your mouth, the other holding the toy on your clit, his dick inside. He begins to play with you, not moving his hips at all, only the vibrator. Panting against the crook of your neck, he takes a second to merely breathe with you while you’re on the pathway to another mind blowing orgasm because he turns up the intensity. “How about you come for Daddy first, hm? I know you don’t need me to move when we do this. You can come just like this. So come.” 
And you do, embarrassingly, whining all over the place, twisting your hips to chase your pleasure, causing him to emit the same sounds—causing him to pound you so hard against his closet that he, too, comes in mere minutes. His fingers in your mouth, he’s loud and just as whiny as you, fucking you through his orgasm as you play with digits, sucking on them. 
He doesn’t pull away for a long time. Presses you against his chest and holds you like that, still connected. The vibrator buzzes on the floor, the air is stuffed, but you’re content, the happiest angel, held and stuffed, too. With cum and dick. Heaven on earth. 
Jungkook begins to kiss your neck, marking you there. Fondles your nipples, making you shudder and sigh, making you utter the three words that he deserves. 
“I love you, Ggukie.” 
Jungkook makes a sound that tears you apart. A whimper; the whiniest you ever heard him be. He pulls out of you, but stuffs you again with his fingers. Makes you squirt in record time, kissing you everywhere he can reach. Neck, shoulder, jaw, cheek and lips. 
You must be soaring again in the clouds because you can’t feel your body, especially not when Jungkook says, “I love you, my little squirter.” 
Your knees do give out, after all. Jungkook is quick to pick you up and cradle you in his arms. Wash you clean in the shower. Put on a movie for you while making you food, joining you as soon as he can. 
It’s love you feel—love most profound. And as you eat the food together and finish the wine with drenched Vinny on the other side of the couch, you fall asleep with that love thrumming in your heart. 
You’ll be his for the rest of your life. And he’ll be yours, too. 
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moneflower · 1 year ago
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At first, I thought I liked Dazai Osamu as a character because he was a complex and morally grey individual, but maybe.. just maybe. Who am I kidding, I was probably projecting. If you don't feel called out right yet, then maybe the wise words of Asagari-sensi will open up your eyes.
Here is a prephrased verison I came up with one of the interviews he gave: "Bungo Stray Dogs is a story for people who are not good at living. In this world, there are people who are so good at living that they do not even need a story at all. It is for those who need it like the 'lost ones' Dazai talked about. The oxygen that is necessary for life, the stories for them to come to so that they could get through their day." (translation available @popppretty on Twitter)
And to that, I say main demographic: Who? It's no wonder it's under Seinin. It's for us folks who struggle at life unironically like the real-life authors themselves. Maybe BSD isn't fully a fan-fiction of authors and their literary works. Maybe... it's just what it means to be human. (and no, i'm not trying to add a 'no longer human' pun here. Asagari has a history of not correlating the authors real-life bio to ones in BSD, so I thought I'll just point it out. Not that it's bad by any means, but inspirations can differ by case by case basis, so it's important to remember that even the most controversial characters in the same universe do have their own inner demons which conflicts to their real life counterpart)
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kenjakusbraincum · 1 year ago
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Feathers
Sukuna x Reader
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Synopsis: Master Sukuna establishes a safe word with his favorite pet, to prevent hurting them again!
Word count: 0.8k
Tags/warnings: gn! reader, fluff, mentions of violence, hurt/comfort, mentions and implied nsfw
Author’s note: Another in a compilation of drabbles with pet reader and Master Sukuna <3 This is basically a bunch of scenes I want to eventually incorporate into my bigger fic/series Reverence!
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There was a time when soft moments with Sukuna scared you as much as they excited you. You were so used to rough handling and bruises that as little as gentle touch would come as a surprise. It was a completely new territory with no clearly set rules. So many times you'd hold your breath or avoid moving in fear of angering him. But Sukuna warmed up to you. Little by little he would silently expand the things he'd allow you to do without consequences. It started with you being forbidden from touching him at all. Then he'd let you feel him up during your nightly encounters, snuggle up to him afterwards, sleep in his bed... All the while mumbling vague threats and giving you scary looks. "Careful with your hands.", he'd say when you'd run them from his chest to his stomach, feeling his muscles and stumbling upon his belly mouth. You pulled your hand back and opened your mouth to apologize. But he just gave you a look you couldn't read and put your hand back to his belly.
With time you've come to understand that there were some things Sukuna would never say out loud. "Keep caressing me", was one of them. "Sorry", was another. And a big one.
Sukuna was violent, it was simply in his nature. He's pushed your bounds before, he enjoyed it, but he wanted to see how far he can take things too. Naturally, slip ups happened. Hell, the first time you remember him ever being nice to you was one night when he roughed you up particularly bad. He would always leave to get dressed or refreshed, and expect you to be gone by the time he's back. But this time, you were still there, with your head in the pillow, muffling sobs.
Your heart nearly stopped when you felt the mattress dip with his weight by your side, thinking finally you have met your end. You didn't expect him to gently brush sweaty strands of hair out of your face, and look at you with brows furrowed in confusion.
"Why are you crying?", he asked, and you thought that he was mocking you. He's never shown you kindness, beyond providing you with bare necessities in life. So why would he be concerned with you now?
"H-hurts...", you say quietly, and try your best to stop sobbing. You spend so much time keeping Sukuna company at his throne. You know how quickly (and brutally) he deals with people who annoy him. You were so sure you were going to share their fate. Any second now, you thought as you squeezed your eyes shut.
"Where?", he asked. When you opened your eyes, he looked as docile as you'd ever seen him. And then his hand was in your face, and the back of his finger brushed your tears away. You blinked at him a couple times just to make sure you were processing the situation right. Then you shuffled around to touch the places that ached on your body.
And on his side, Sukuna was quite shocked to see how untrusting you were of him. For once he thought that he striked too much fear into you. Or maybe he was just under the impression, because his most obedient pet was crying. Either way, his hand followed yours, light against your sensitive skin. Careful not to cause any more pain for the night. You were stiff under his fingertips at first, still anticipating violence, but slowly relaxed as you felt the pain subside.
"There.", he says, instead of "Sorry". But he felt sorry.
The next time he brings you to his chambers, he stops you in front of the bed. "Pick a word. Any word.". You stop and think, not knowing where he's going with this.
"Feathers.", you say. Angels. His hands on your waist urge you to turn around, facing your back to him. He brushes your hair over your shoulder and kisses you, from the back of your ear trailing down. Your hand meets his and you think you'll melt into him. You've never experienced such tenderness, and to know it's coming from him...
"Only use it when you can't take it anymore. I'll stop.", he whispers against your skin. And just as you thought of how suspiciously nice he was starting to sound..."I wouldn't want to break my favorite toy".
Then he nudges you onto the bed and joins you. You don't have enough time to process the words, before he's on top of you and your focus is shifted back to him. And you don't think you've ever been so relaxed laying in bed with a monster. Later that night, when you were alone in your room, you felt butterflies at the thought of being his favorite. Even if you were nothing but a toy. Even if tomorrow when you stumble upon him in the hallway, or when he calls for you to make him company in his throne room, he'll be as distant and cold as the moon.
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moonsaver · 1 month ago
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Lemon is the sweetest fruit.
Yandere!gojo x reader.
Your childhood best friend likes you a little more than he lets on. He professes by a kiss.
TW/CW; sub/noncon[just kissing], slight angst(?), yandere tendencies mentioned. Reader is mentioned as "pretty girl".
A/n; a short drabble i wrote. Its barely 300 words i think.
Satoru was your best friend
Note: "was".
Being your best friend was the best thing that happened to him in its own right, of course. Giggly whispers shared during classes, holding hands as you both ran up to higher land to see the fireworks, promising to stay in contact even after you both long graduated, nightly phone calls with occasional features from his other friends; Shoko and Suguru.
It had, however, started dawning on him how much more he craved you a long time ago. When you carelessly handed him a lollipop you were just eating, how his heart fluttered when it was in his mouth, tongue hesitant as it felt the lingering warmth of your own on the hard candy. He'd remained ignorant of it – he needed to. You were his best friend. Being friends is better than potentially ruining it.
And he didn't want to.
Not with his childhood best friend. You knew him like the palm of your hand; but as strange as it sounds, love had rendered him both knowing everything and nothing about you simultaneously. Romantic love, so to speak.
He ignores it. He bottles it up. Eyes that linger on your form a bit too long forced to rip away. Hands that twitch to hold yours forced to slump on your shoulder in a friendly manner. Ignorance when your familiar laughter ignites a plethora of sparks in his stomach.
And the feelings fester. They fester and rot and turn into something uglier. But Satoru can't slip up – hell no. The whole world can collapse out of balance and he wouldn't mess this up. Not you. Anything but you.
It's almost agonizing. He measures it inch by inch in silence, sitting at your dining table, looking at you working in the kitchen under the yellow lighting. He finds those feelings twist inside him like a needle caught in taut fabric.
"Hungry?"
For you, yes. But his tongue is trained not to say that.
"Nah, got anything sweet?"
He leans in his chair, feet rising up as he pushes it back, balancing it on its hind legs, looking up at the ceiling with his scaling retinas.
"Humm.."
You hum, the sound of rustling accompanying you as you scavenge through your stock.
"Hard lemon candy."
"Works f'me."
"Really?"
You toss the small, plastic bag of the candy towards him, his hand reaching out to catch it. And he does. He whistles slightly as he reads it, the chair slightly creaking as he leans forward, pushing it back onto all 4 of its legs. One of his arms is still slumped over the chair, the other holding up the packet in front of his face as he scrutinized it.
"You'll burn a hole through it, pretty boy."
"You'll deal with it, pretty girl."
You roll your eyes, sitting down across him, and yawning, stretching out in your chair before slumping, almost mirroring his own sloth-like posture.
"Rough day huh?"
"Yeah, everyone's out for a drink, too."
"Troubles and bottles. That's how everyone deals with it."
His fingers snap open the packet, and coaxes a small piece out of it and into his mouth. It clacks slightly against his teeth, immediately sweetening his saliva once engulfed by it. His eyes snap to your lips.
"Not you though."
Your lips are wet, and your teeth shine slightly when you smile.
He wants to kiss you.
"Not us."
The rest is silence.
––
Satoru was your best friend.
But you don't call him that. Not anymore.
"Satoru–"
"Shh."
His finger presses against your lips, hushing you. His eyes are terrifying – you've never realised. You always saw them shining brilliantly like a clear lake under the sun. But right now; they're nothing like you've seen before. Huge, ice cold irises that almost engulf yours as they bore into you.
His hand is cold, as it slips down under your chin, his palm cradling it, his thumb pressing against the end of your jaw, where it ends.
"Your skin is so pretty."
He whispers it, mesmerised. It's one of the few rare times he's sincere when he says so. The last time he did; it was in an aquarium after he'd horribly crushed his exams in the midst of a family fued.
You remember he was your best friend. But you remind yourself he might not be anymore.
"I've always wanted to know what your lips taste like."
He says, his eyes lowered onto your lips, unshamedly. If it's any consolation; his white lashes almost curtain the hungry look in his eyes. He leans in, almost hovering closer as you swallow thickly, instinctively squeezing your eyes shut. This causes him to chuckle breathlessly for a moment.
"Open your eyes, sweetheart."
The drawl in his voice is almost sickening; it sends an upward shudder in your body. He's never addressed you in such a manner before.
"Open~"
He says, slightly elongating it at the end in a sing-song manner, fingers squeezing into your cheek in warning.
Your eyes creak open the slightest bit.
There is the sun.
His pupils are dilated. Much more closer to you before he closed his eyes.
"There you go. What a pretty girl."
He sighs, cocking his head to the side, his eyes slowly scanning over your features, taking you in.
"Don't. Please."
You manage to whisper.
He blinks. Has he blinked before?
"Why not?"
He asks, in a whisper.
You swallow, again. You breathe in to answer, but he cuts you off;
"This won't hurt. I promise."
His words are so soft. So loving. You almost want to let him. His eyes are so gentle in that moment you almost forget.
Until his lips are on yours.
They're cold, yet somehow soft. Slightly chapped. He kisses you, gently. You breathe in, sharply, as you register the contact. You flinch, however – when his hot tongue prods at your lips.
You take the time to contemplate; and Satoru gives it to you. His hand has slid from your chin,and around to rest on your nape. His other hand desperately grips onto your shirt, right in the hollow curve of your waist. Can you really stand your ground?
And you let him in.
His tongue is eager when it enters your mouth, a soft, breathless moan leaving him as his tongue feels the warmth of your mouth, parting slightly at the sudden burst of feelings at the contact, before crushing down onto you again. His lips are sealed against yours, as his tongue takes it's time to feel every ridge of your teeth, sliding against your tongue and diving into the pools of saliva in the crevices of your mouth.
There's a string of saliva still connecting your lips, when he finally parts. Both of you pant slightly, out of breath as he grins like an idiot in love.
"You taste as good as I imagined."
His face ducks into the junction of your shoulder and neck, his white tufts of hair tickling your face a bit as he does so. He inhales, deeply.
A kiss. And then another.
He trails wet, small kisses from the base of your neck to your jaw. His hands move to cup your face firmly, as he plants a kiss onto your nose, playfully rubbing his nose with yours, as he smiles.
"I love you. You do too, right?"
You can taste the lemon candy from his mouth. This won't be the last time you taste it.
---
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iiseult · 6 months ago
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Oooh open requests! May I have King Baldwin with a wife reader who sweetly helps him treat his wounds regardless of how he tells her not to come into direct contact with his skin? Please, do it nice and fluffy, if it's not too much trouble! Thank you!
Wedding Night: Baldwin IV x reader
CWs → fluff, probable historical inaccuracies, she/her pronouns, leprosy, christianity and mentions of god, reader and baldwin just got married!
Note: This is the first request I've ever responded to! Thank you so much for sending it in, I really hope you enjoy! <3 Also this was supposed to be a drabble but I got carried away
Wordcount: 2k
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞
Baldwin was laying on his stomach with his bandaged arms and legs stretched out across the large mattress, and his face nuzzled into a plush pillow. The day had been strenuous for him, requiring much more standing than he was accustomed to, and his body ached terribly. Though originally just on his hands and face, the disease had recently spread up past his wrist and onto a small patch of his back, causing an uncomfortable burning sensation every time his clothing brushed against it. He was waiting for his physician to arrive and apply his nightly soothing salve, which usually helped to relieve some of the discomfort that resulted from the intense dryness of his skin. But when the door opened, instead of his physician, it was you. 
Hastily, he sat up, looking around to find something to cover himself with. Besides the bandages wrapped around his ribcage, arms, and the middle of his face, the only thing he had on was a pair of white linen shorts. You covered your mouth and giggled as he scrambled to grab his robe from the nearby chair it was draped over.
“My lord, that really won’t be necessary. I’m only going to take it right back off once you put it on,” you said playfully, closing the door behind you and sauntering towards him. You were carrying a small basket in your left hand. He furrowed his brow and instinctually clutched the fabric to his chest, hoping it covered most of his exposed skin. A wave of heat rushed to his head, and he suddenly felt a bit dizzy.  
“Lady Y/N– I mean, Your Highness, what are you doing here?” he asked, his voice betraying his mild panic as his eyes followed you across the bedroom. You had changed out of your wedding gown in favor of a tightly fitting dress of a deep emerald green and a low neckline– typical attire for a bride on her wedding night. Heat rose to his cheeks as he admired his new queen’s attractive figure, on display just for him. He really hadn’t been expecting this. You had to know that, given his condition, consummating the marriage would be more trouble than it was worth, and attempting to sire an heir with him would be a completely fruitless endeavor. Why, then, were you standing before him, looking like the very picture of grace and beauty? You smiled gently at him, setting down the basket and taking a seat on the edge of the bed. 
“Let me help you. Please, lie back down so I can take those bandages off,” you murmured, trying to keep your voice as even as possible. You waited a moment, but he only gawked, eyes still shamelessly concentrating on your choice of wardrobe. You sighed and placed a hand over his bandaged one, looking deeply into his eyes. 
“I promise I’ll be gentle.” 
He hummed sadly, shaking his head no, knowing he could not give you what you wanted. 
“I believe that you would, but I cannot allow it. If you were to come into contact with my bare skin…” he trailed off. You bit your lip. You knew he wouldn’t agree to it. 
He noticed your disappointment, and his eyes softened a little. 
“Look at you, your skin is so pure…if anything were to happen to it on my account, I could never forgive myself. Not only because of the pain it would inflict upon you, but also for my own selfish reasons.” He spoke slowly, letting his words sink in. 
“My wife, you are so beautiful, and so smart. You have so much to give, and you are everything I am not. If you were to put yourself at risk of becoming like me, you would be condemning yourself to a short, bitter life of wasted potential. Though I may not be long for this world, I want to spend the remainder of my days admiring you and all that you bring. Please do not forsake the gifts God has given you for fleeting desires of the flesh,” he begged. His blue eyes were so wide, pleading, swimming with genuine emotion, but it wasn’t enough to break you. You knew what you wanted.
“Baldwin,” you said, addressing him directly for the first time, “Just this once, please. Let me do this for you.” 
You tugged lightly at the fabric bunched up in his grasp. He resigned, allowing you to pull it away and discard it at the foot of the bed, leaving his mostly bare chest exposed to your intimate gaze. No woman had ever seen this much of him before. He watched as your eyes traced his body, beginning at his delicate neck and protruding collar bones, then down to the smooth expanse of creamy skin covering his chest, and finally to his well-defined middle. Those parts of him had yet to be contaminated by his affliction. You had yet to ever come into contact with his bare skin, but the way you were studying him, he could almost feel the sweet sensation of your fingertips ghosting over his body. 
“Y/N, I’m sorry if you had hopes of…enjoying a true wedding night with me, but I must be honest with you, even if it does cause me great pain and regret-” 
You hushed him quietly, clasping his hand in yours a little tighter. 
“No, my love, you don’t have to explain to me. I understand. That is not what I came for. I simply wanted to take care of my husband.” You smiled, the corners of your eyes crinkling as you gazed down at him lovingly. He let out a breath and untensed his shoulders, relieved that he wasn’t letting you down after all. The sight of you smiling down at him with all the love in the world melted his heart, and his resolve broke. 
“Alright. But please promise me you will cleanse yourself thoroughly afterwards. We must do everything we can to prevent the spread,” he whispered, dropping his hand to allow you to have your way with him. 
Slowly, carefully, you reached for him, stretching your fingertips out and finally grazing them against the middle of his chest. He inhaled sharply, watching in awe. Your touch was feather-light, but it sent a spark of heat straight to his heart. His skin tingled. Gently, you applied a bit of pressure, encouraging him to lay back. He stared into your eyes and refused to look anywhere else as he readjusted his position, locks of blond hair shifting away from his brow as he reclined.
“That’s it, just like that. Perfect. Now, just relax, I brought some oils and salves for you. I’m going to take this bandage off now, okay?” You said, reaching for his wrapped hand. He nodded, and you slowly began unwinding the linens, peeling them away to reveal the most decayed part of his body; his right hand. Any skin left intact on it was shaded by a grayish hue, and the rest was just angry, red, open sores. You fought the urge to wince, not because it disgusted you, because it didn’t, but because you empathized with Baldwin, feeling the pain he must have felt in that moment. The bandages you removed were dotted with blood and other secretions from the angry wounds. 
You continued unraveling, all the way up his arm, and its condition gradually improved the further up you got. Then you moved to the other arm, repeating the same process. Soon, it was time to attend to the linens coiled around his torso, protecting the rash on his back. 
“Can you sit up for me, please?” 
He wordlessly obeyed, watching you work through his curtain of fine, golden hair. You scooted over until you were fully seated on the bed, face to face with him. He was suddenly glad for the bandage covering most of his cheeks and nose, so you didn’t detect the blush rapidly spreading across them. 
You reached around with your left arm and placed your cool palm against his shoulder blade to steady him as you pulled away the bandages. He sat as still as possible, not sure what to do with himself. His heart was about to beat out of his chest. Your hand was so soft, so slow…it was lulling him into a trance. He sighed deeply, letting the air roll all the way through his lungs. You deftly unweaved the bandage with your delicate fingers, working swiftly to avoid any discomfort that the pulling might cause him. Soon, all that remained was his face. 
Wordlessly, you slid a hand up the back of his neck and cradled his head in your palm, threading your fingers through his curls. He let his head fall back, confident that you would support him, and closed his eyes. A quiet rumble emanated from the back of his throat when he felt your fingertips brush his forehead. Then, you peeled off the last bandage, finally exposing the sensitive skin of his face to the cool evening air. 
Yes, his complexion was blemished and inflamed, as you expected. His nose was red and dry, some of the skin flaking off completely. His lips were in much the same condition. A smattering of pink blotches covered his handsome cheeks. But to you, nobody had ever looked closer to perfect. You grinned and cupped his face between your hands, gently circling your thumb over his cheek. His pretty blue eyes crinkled up at the corners as he smiled back, letting out a short laugh he never meant to let out. 
“You are such a beautiful boy, Baldwin. I love seeing your smile so much,” you said, tracing his bottom lip. That smile only grew as he closed his eyes in bliss. Your warmth was almost too much for him to handle. 
“I’m going to apply the salve now, okay?” you asked, gently laying his head down on his pillow and reaching for a bottle from your basket. 
“Mhmm,” he hummed contentedly. The smell of lavender and chamomile permeated the air as you scooped up a large blob of the salve and gently smeared it over his cheekbones. He sighed in relief as soon as it touched his parched skin, his pink lips parting. Soon, his face had absorbed most of the moisture, making him glisten in the candlelight like he was made of porcelain, and you moved onto his back, having him turn over. You ran your hands over the plains of his shoulder blades, massaging the tissue to help relieve any aches that may have built up. He groaned into the pillow in satisfaction. You smiled, continuing your ministrations. 
Needless to say, Baldwin had never experienced anything remotely similar to this before. The way you handled him and didn’t shy away from coming into direct contact with the most afflicted parts of his body made his stomach do flips. Maybe he could get used to this. 
‘I think I’m all done, my king. You can turn back over,” you said softly, putting the cork back in your bottle and stowing it away in the basket. Baldwin stretched leisurely and rolled over, hair partially obscuring his half-lidded eyes and crooked smile. He suddenly looked so young; only eighteen years old and he had already led an army. 
“Thank you, love,” he murmured, reaching out to grab your hand, bravely intertwining your fingers. He figured the damage had already been done, and there was no harm in a few more precious seconds of warmth. So he swiftly lifted your hand and pressed it to his delicate lips, almost burning your skin with the lingering passion in his touch. 
Now it was your turn to blush. 
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