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highvern · 7 months ago

Text

Between the Titles

Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader

Genre: fluff, smut (mature/18+)

warnings: egregious caffeine consumption, yoongi smokes cigarettes, reader is about the same height as yoongi (its me hello im almost the same height as him), gay taehyung, volunteer jungkook, silver fox yoongi (he just has some gray hair bc hot) smut warnings: making out, grinding, fingering, oral (f. receiving), semi-public sexual acts, bathroom sex, protected sex, praise kink

Length: ~9.5k

Note: no thoughts, just big brain yoongi in a sweater smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee. btw almost all the books in this are real but i haven't read them so if you have lmk if they're worth the read lmao. thank u to my dearest @gyuswhore and @idyllic-ghost for beta-ing this

Summary: Five days a week in the library means you're very familiar with the senior research librarian. It also means he has no qualms about making his own book recommendations either.

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The sweet aroma of old books and strong coffee infiltrates your nose as the heavy doors into the library swing open, offering reprieve from the storm raging on outside. It’s far too early for anyone to be here beyond staff and a few other morning birds. You glide right to the circulation desk as if fatigue doesn’t pulse through your veins, barely quelled by the second cup of coffee you sip from.

As always, the same familiar head of dark hair with sparse silver streaks waits at the circulation desk. He’s the only person working this early despite being the senior research librarian but you never hear any complaints louder than muttered annoyance under his breath when he thinks no one is around to hear. Bent over his laptop, Yoongi doesn’t even bother to look up as he slides a heavy stack of books to the edge of the counter.

Eleven total, ten heavy volumes on ancient fertility cults across the globe, and one book you know he’s mixed in for his own amusement.

It’s become something of a game between you two. At first you thought he was mixing your materials with someone else’s, but every time you brought the additional copy back to his desk, Yoongi insisted he had no idea what you were talking about and questioned your reading choices. Each time the titles got more ridiculous: Castration: The Advantages and the Disadvantages, How to Enjoy Your Weeds, Amish Vampires in Space, the list goes on and on. But after he slipped Why Fish Don’t Exist into your stack a few weeks ago, you decided to start responding.

You left the stack at his desk like usual, ears perked for his reaction to Fishes I Have Known. An amused snort rang out just as you opened the doors to leave for the afternoon. The sound was so unlike the stoic man you’d become accustomed to over months working on your thesis; not that you heard him talk much to begin with.

Since then you’ve made a point to match every book he leaves for you. Yesterday, Yoongi chose I Could Pee on This: and Other Poems by Cats. At the end of the day, you spent thirty minutes searching shelf after shelf for an appropriate response, every book failing to meet your expectations. It wasn’t fair he knew the expansive collection like the back of his hand but nevertheless you found something up to par.

Yoongi rolled his eyes when you passed your books over the counter, a copy of Staying Dry: A Practical Guide to Bladder Control, like a shining star on top. A brief pink of his tongue flashed across his lips, a feeble attempt to muffle an amused smile. It was the most obvious reaction since the first time you responded.

Smiling like the cat who ate the canary, you left on clouds last night.

But this morning you have notes to write.

Snagging the collection, you make your way deeper into the building. Your unassigned-assigned desk tucked away on the fifth floor, far enough away from any noise so you can fully immerse in work without the threat of distraction. An uninterrupted view of the courtyard below is an added bonus.

The wooden table top is covered in a neat collection of pens and sticky notes in minutes; your laptop and the foot tall collection of references you devour over the next eight hours taking up the other half.

A few titles you request over and over sit on top, too valuable to be checked out for long term use so you settle for keeping them in constant rotation since no one else bothers to read the dusty yellowing tombs. For now, you focus on the new pieces you hope hold the information you need.

Earth rites: fertility practices in pre-industrial Britain, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in the Ancient Mediterranean, Metamorphosis of Baubo: myths of woman's sexual energy—

I’m in Love with Mothman…

Well there it is.

You thumb across the glossy cartoon cover, failing to bite back a smile. Yoongi has a penchant for tossing in the most outlandish romance books he can find. Maybe because he knows you spend just as much if not more time than he does between the stacks. The suggestion box at the desk was full of cards stained with your penmanship asking for longer hours; several of which you’ve seen Yoongi rip in half as he pointedly met your gaze.

Tossing it aside, you pull forward one of the more musty books and start reading.

When you finally manage to resurface from laborious tales on several cults of Aphrodite, the rain is long gone. Even the darkest corners of the old building seem to glow gold in the evening sunset filtering through the glass doors. They're the only thing standing between you and freedom in the form curling up on your couch with a glass of wine and a new episode of your favorite reality dating show. But first, Yoongi needs his books back.

His desk chair is abandoned and the return cart is gone as well which means he could be anywhere in the building. Disappointment leaches into your spine at the fact you won’t be able to witness his reaction to the twelfth book in your pile; the one you spent an extra fifteen minutes looking for in the corner of the third floor.

A thick piece of library paper lists the materials you’ll need for the next day lays atop the neon green cover of Pest Management Solutions: How to Manage Your Moth Problem. They decorate the corner of the desk until Yoongi returns to find them. Hopefully he appreciates your humor.

Yoongi isn’t at his desk the next morning when you come in either. Instead, a doe eyed man with a lip piercing occupies the chair, clearly playing some game on his laptop.

Approaching the counter, you begin to ask, “Where’s Yoon–”

“Staff meeting,” he interjects like he’s already answered the question a million times despite the library opening only five minutes ago. The white of his teeth threaten to blind you. “But I can help you!”

His name tag isn’t the same engraved golden metal Yoongi’s is, it’s a plastic sleeve with a paper insert with barely legible handwriting you decipher as “Jungkook” and below “Volunteer.” You’ve seen him before from a distance. Usually trudging through the shelves with the book return cart in tow, occasionally taking a quick read inside before putting them in their rightful place.

“I need to pick up some books. I gave Yoongi the list yesterday.”

“Sure.” Jungkook jumps up, approaching the shelf lined with piles for other patrons. “What’s your last name?”

He combs through the list after you answer, finding your stack easily enough.

“Alright so Yoongi left a note that the encyclopedias you wanted are on the usual desk you have upstairs. But other than that I’ve got: Historical Studies of Changing Fertility, Sacred Mushroom and The Cross, Archaeology and Fertility Cults in The Ancient Mediterranean…” Jungkook lists off the titles, checking to make sure they're all in order. “And, um, this one isn’t on the list.”

It must be Yoongi’s choice for the day.

“What is it?”

Jungkook looks like he’s trying to hide his own amusement as he slides it over for you to read.

If I Were a Bird, You'd be The First Person I'd Shit On.

“Huh,” you blush. “Wonder how that got in there.”

“He must have left it by mistake. I can put it ba–”

“No, I’ll take it.” You toss it on top of the other, less embarrassing books in your stack and gather it into your arms before Jungkook can get in another word. “Thanks for your help!”

Scurrying towards the hallway housing the elevators, you attempt to juggle the pile of books, your stuffed bag, and coffee without taking a spill. It’s one thing to have your silent battle with Yoongi, but having someone else witness it makes you feel downright silly. And for the first one witnessed by others to be such an absurd and downright passive aggressive selection sends embarrassment through your veins.

As promised, three encyclopedias sit neatly on your desk; the volumes so thick they protrude from the table top like a small mountain. No wonder he left them there instead of making you carry them up in individual trips. But Yoongi’s goodwill clearly ended there. A sticky note on top of the stack pens his discontent at your selection.

I had to spend 3 hours in the basement to find these. If you need them again, don’t.

Even though he hadn’t signed it, you know it’s from him. The tight script fits his personality; thin lines of annoyance bleeding through the ink, not just his words. A waft of musty old paper and dust breezes through your nose as you open the first copy. They must have been housed in a forgotten storage area. At least his bird book makes more sense now.

You don’t dig into the heap until after the sun is halfway through the sky but when you do it only proves to unravel your wits. Reading on, the wrinkle in your eyebrows deepens further. Page after page of conflicting knowledge passes by, each sentence more confusing than the last; minutes negating months of research. The thick pages hardly provide a soft landing for your head as you allow it to thump forward in exasperation.

The scrap of chair legs alerts to a new presence watching your meltdown in real time.

“Something wrong?” Yoongi asks.

With a heavy sigh, you respond.“I want to die.”

“Get in line.”

Shifting in your seat, you peer in his direction. A different day but the same wardrobe: dark button up, glasses, same unapproachable facade. But what Yoongi is doing sitting next to you is new.

Yoongi makes himself comfortable, picking at his nails as he waits patiently for an explanation.

“Everything in my thesis is either wrong or the world authority on fertility in Europe is full of it.”

“Bummer.”

“Your sincerity is overwhelming.” You snap.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. Boredom seeps across his face but he doesn’t move to leave, just sinks deeper into the chair. “You’ve read almost half the collection since you started coming here, why are some old dusty books such a big deal?”

“Because all of those books cite these books which means those books are wrong and all my work is in the toilet.”

“Those books are from the seventies, the information is probably out of date.”

Slamming the copy serving as a pillow shut, you take a second glance at the title: Encyclopedia of Women and World Religion, Volume 7.

“Yoongi,” you sing.

Yoongi’s gaze flashes to yours, a trickle of confusion flashing across his eyes.“What?”

You stack up the books and push them across the desk with some effort. Just to savor the satisfaction of besting Yoongi, you indulge a long sip of now cold coffee before speaking again. No one else is around to witness your victory but that won’t dampen the high.

“Looks like you’ll be back in the basement because you brought me the wrong editions.”

He opens his mouth to argue, snatching one of the books to investigate but you beat him to the punch.

“I asked for the twenty-fifth edition, not the seventh.” You smirk. “I think you're losing your touch.”

He watches you over the rim of the cover. A fleeting glance in your direction but it makes your heart squeeze with need.

“Well, I guess you’re right,” Yoongi sighs, standing. “Do you still need them for anything or can I go ahead and take them?”

With your approval, he heaves the heavy tombs on to his cart. The strain of his forearms, bare from rolled up sleeves, catches your attention. Veins raised under creamy skin, lean muscles leading down to hands you’ve noticed since the first day you started visiting the library.

If you keep staring, you’re likely to start drooling. So you dive back into one of the useful books littering your desk and pretend to read until he’s disappearing down the hall.

On your way out, leaving much earlier than a typical day due to Yoongi’s mistake, you drop the remaining books off at the circulation desk. Along with a copy of Avian Hunting Techniques. He’s absent again but it doesn't matter.

You continue out the doors and down the sidewalk only to spot him leaning against the brick exterior further down the street. Even from a distance you can make out the natural scowl he’s constantly sporting. Except this time his lips pout around a cigarette.

Of course he smokes.

The quasi-mysterious librarian who flirts with you through book titles, smokes cigarettes and looks hot doing it.

“You know those things will kill you, right?”

“That’s what the box says but they aren’t holding up their end of the deal,” Yoongi responds, flicking the ash before looking at his watch. “Wow, out before six. I’ll alert the press.”

“Well, if someone gave me the right books then maybe I’d stay longer. But I’m not about to wait around while you get the ones I need.”

Yoongi takes another drag of his cigarette before responding, “Are you trying to say I forced you to take a break?”

The realization dawns on you. Yoongi is the senior research librarian. He’s never given you the wrong books, even when you request the rare copies needed to be loaned from a different part of the country. The few times you’ve offered understanding if he couldn’t get them were met with a challenge in his gaze and smug satisfaction when handing them over a week later.

“You brought me the wrong copies on purpose!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He’s lying. You know it. Yoongi definitely knows you know by the way he smirks. But he’s already crushing the filter under his shoe and moving back towards the library by the time your brain catches up to your mouth. “Have a good night, Y/N.”

With a scoff of indignation, you stalk towards your car.

The next morning, you march straight through the class doors to where Yoongi sits, fueled by snowballed annoyance from the previous day. Waking up on the wrong side of the bed is an understatement. If there are any gods, Yoongi should pick one and pray.

Your free afternoon of yesterday was spent dealing with the chaos your apartment has become over the past few weeks. Unfolded laundry, stacks of random papers, out of place books, and errant dust bunnies all became new victims to energy usually reserved for a full day of research. Taehyung practically shit himself when he woke up before dinner and found you scrubbing the bathroom sink.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, hand to his chest like a flustered old woman.

Bleach curled in your nostrils. “I live here.”

“Not between the hours of eight and seven.”

But after the mess was dealt with, aggravation set in. How dare Yoongi purposefully meddle in your work. Well meaning or not you were an adult and could decide when enough was enough. The purposeful mishap hadn’t set you back far, one afternoon but a drop in the bucket in comparison to the months you’ve already spent chasing new leads. But the principle of the matter is that it’s none of his business what you do and when you do it.

Yoongi slides a slimmer stack over when you stop in front of him.

“Encyclopedias are on your desk,” he announces through a sip of coffee. He continues to type away, feigning disinterest as you sort through your stack with measured annoyance.

“Are they the right copies this time?”

“Double checked them myself.”

You open your mouth to verbalize your doubts but Yoongi’s pick of the day catches your eye.

Surviving Your Stupid Stupid Decision to Go to Grad School.

Scoffing, you flip the book around and shoot daggers into his face with your eyes. “Do you think you’re funny?”

The corner of his mouth twitches then becomes a full blown smile. Leaning over the desk, he drops his voice, “I think I’m hilarious.”

Remembering you are, in fact, in a library, you manage to muffle a frustrated groan. You dump the supplementary reading back on the counter for Yoongi to deal with and head upstairs.

Unlike the usual days where you put off finding a response to Yoongi’s extra copy until the waning hours of the afternoon, you drop your bags and head straight for the shelves. The fifth floor houses a collection of textbooks and other reference material. It’s why it's always deserted unless some poor fool stumbles on it by accident; the perfect place to work uninterrupted for hours.

You head down stairs, circling the fourth and then third floor like a shark in a feeding frenzy. A few covers spark interest but nothing captures what bubbles in your veins: annoyance, anger, confusion. A brief flutter of interest as to why Yoongi decided to mess with you but those feelings are more dangerous than the acidic ones.

Row after proves unfruitful in your quest for passive aggressive revenge. None have the same bite as his book, or seem to curb the homicidal thoughts raging in your head.

Until a little white book peeps back at you from the end of the aisle.

Yoongi jumps when you slam Bitter Is the New Black: Confessions of a Condescending, Egomaniacal, Self-Centered Smartass in front of him. A feat in and of itself to sneak up on him given the loan desk has a perfect view of the entire first floor but whatever he’d been clicking away at on the computer was distraction enough.

“What's this?”

“Thought you might like some new reading.” You flash your teeth.

His chin jerks towards the glossy cover. “I already gave this two stars on Goodreads.”

Of course he has.

Face prickling in embarrassment, you turn back the way you came without a word.

Hours later, when half the day has ticked by and the ache for more caffeine burns your eyes, Yoongi stops by your desk. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t try and gain the attention you pointedly withhold. He sets a paper coffee cup on the corner of the tabletop and leaves.

You snatch up the cup after he rounds the corner out of sight. The lack of sugar leaves much to be desired but free coffee is free coffee, especially to a PhD student with limited means.

It isn’t much of an apology but guilt blooms down your spine anyway. He meant well. You aren’t known for giving yourself breaks; unable to quit while you’re ahead. A voluntary day off is less likely than winning the lottery. You’re a busy body and the constant work keeps you from dissolving into chaos.

You don’t see Yoongi again until every book at your desk is exhausted, begging for a break from your manhandling. Double and triple checking notes and citations are the poor excuse you implement to delay the inevitable. At some point you’ll have to go downstairs to face the music.

He’s waiting like always, scanning the mountain of returns littering the counter from a long day. Each step closer withers something in your stomach.

The copies in your hand shift onto the wooden surface, joining the stack for him to work through. Yoongi flashes a polite grimace when you catch his eye before immediately diving back into his work. Hopefully he understands why you chose Thank You for Smoking. And why you covered the second half of the title with a sticky note.

Jungkook’s smiling face greets you bright and early. His name tag has been upgraded from flimsy paper to a plastic one and a printed label with his name.

Handing over your library card, he quickly scans it and grabs the books meant for today’s dissection.

“Yoongi wanted me to tell you that if you want more coffee while you’re working, you can go to the staff lounge on the second floor.”

“Oh.”

Jungkook continues sifting through your requests, making sure each is correct. “Between you and me, the coffee down the street is better. But don’t tell him I said that.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s a coffee snob and thinks his shit—sorry—stuff is the best.”

“Okay,” you say, grabbing your pile. “Thanks.”

You set up your station like always, sorting through each book and devising a mental to do list. The desk resembles a feast but instead of food it’s encyclopedias, printed articles, and dusty manuscripts Yoongi wrangled from who knows where. On the outer board of your work station rests the feature of the day: How to Beg for Cigarettes.

A few hours pass between the pages. Your previous research is confirmed by the significantly less dusty encyclopedias this time, corroborating the basis of your thesis. A new work you haven’t seen is cited in the back, piquing your interest for more evidence.

Instead of bothering one of the staff, you use the library website and find it in their catalog. It’s somewhere on the second floor where Yoongi offers free coffee. Two birds, one stone; a new book and a new cup of coffee.

The layout resembles all the other floors. A collection of study tables in the center crowded by bookshelves on all sides. One person, an undergrad by the look of pure dread on their features, occupies a table but that's it. Glancing at the note with the call number, you start towards the stacks on the left.

You find the correct area, eyes scanning up and down the different shelves to no avail. Hundreds of books, different sizes in an array of colors, flash by but none are the one you need. You’re about to call it quits when you spot it on the top shelf, just out of reach.

Call it a moment of stupidity, a brief blight of recklessness, but the book sits only a few inches beyond your fingers. You look around to make sure no one is around to witness the brilliantly flawed idea crest in your brain. With the coast clear, you hoist yourself up the shelf.

A deadpan voice nearly makes you fall.

“Looking for something?”

Yoongi stands a few feet away, head cocked to the side. Of course he’d find you in such a ridiculous position. Even through the blur of your peripheral vision, the harsh lines of his usual uniform clashes against the back drop of books. Dark jeans fitted over his thighs, dark button down rolled up his arms, and a pair of glasses that make him look hot. But you’re in no position to dwell when the risk of falling on your ass is so high.

“Nope, just getting in some exercise” you grunt, moving your foot to the shallow hold of the next shelf.

Yoongi moseys up behind you before continuing. “And climbing a decades old bookshelf is how you stretch your legs?”

“You smoke cigarettes, I climb old furniture. We all have our vices.”

Your foot slips from its perch, making you squeak before catching your balance.

“Alright spider-monkey, that's enough.” His hands slide across your hip, fingers curved around the softest part of your waist as he helps you down.

Distracted by the weight of him still on your hip, the heat of his chest a scorching across your back, you don’t even think to disparage him for the cheap Twilight reference. The few inches Yoongi has on you allows him to reach overhead to snag the copy you need with ease. But as you watch his hands close around the spine everything beyond fades to black; like the universe pinholes where you two stand.

“This one?” You feel the vibration of his words up and down your spine, warm breath tracing across the shell of your ear.

Body on autopilot, you turn to face Yoongi. His mouth moves, eyes scanning the book cover but every word deafens in a muddy haze. He doesn’t seem to realize his hand is still on your waist, or how he crowds you into the shelves; chest to chest, stomachs barely an inch apart.

“Huh?” you ask, tearing your eyes away from his mouth.

“I said, if you asked for this book earlier I could have gotten it for you.”

“Oh.”

“You okay?” he asks, stepping further into you. “You look a little flushed.”

The bastard smiles. A God’s honest smile like his thigh isn’t between your own, or he isn’t waiting for a reply while his fingers dig in beneath your ribs.

Just when you open your mouth to say something, Yoongi silences you with a firm squeeze of his hand. His head lowers until his breath ghosts along your chin.

Then you’re kissing; lips sliding together easily like he anticipated it. The world shatters all around from just a few passes of his mouth across your own, the weight of his body flattening you against the bookshelf.

The first hint of his tongue against the seam of your lips makes you gasp and Yoongi takes the opportunity to taste you. You melt under his attention. Head tipping back, shoulders bowing to take more, your senses flood with the remnants of coffee and something else; something so quintessential Yoongi your head spins. It lights a new flame in your veins, one burning with pure want.

A handful of his shirt pulls him closer. Yoongi follows easily but gets more than asked for when one of your hands tangles in the back of his hair, tugging until he’s tilting his chin the way you want. It’s a bad habit other dates have subtly complained about but a noise bubbles in his throat at the dig of your nails; responding with his own palm squeezing roughly across your ass until your hips meet his.

The crash of the book near your feet is like a bucket of ice water.

“Oh my god,” you gasp. Jumping back proves futile as the shelf digs further into your spine. “I–”

Puffy lips and lowered eyes stare back at you, clear evidence that you haven’t hallucinated what just happened. Yoongi dips down to kiss you again but you slither out of his grip.

Forgetting the book on the tiled floor, you mumble an apology and flee back upstairs, beelining to the vacant restroom.

To your own mortification, your features mirror Yoongi’s; lips swollen, eyes glazed. Your sweater twisted around your torso clearly betraying your rendezvous in the stacks. Beads of sweat cling to your forehead and neck.

A few splashes of cold water help clear the fog in your brain but as it dissipates embarrassment sets in. Making out with a handsome man is one thing. Making out with the librarian assisting in the most important work of your life is an entirely different ordeal; one that can only spell trouble.

Pacing back and forth, the cool paper towel on the back of your neck helps calm your racing heart enough to leave the safety of the ladies room.

Try as you might to drown under piles of books, it’s useless. You pretend to read the same passages over and over but none of the words register. The kiss replays over and over and over again. You kissed Yoongi. Yoongi kissed you back. He tried to kiss you again when you pulled away.

The end of the day inevitably comes which means you have to face him whether you want to or not. But you won’t allow a single lapse of judgment to affect your work; a moment of weakness propelled by months of abstinence that just so happened to coincide with a surly librarian’s entrance into your life. You just needed to get it out of your system. If it hadn’t been Yoongi it would have been someone else.

At least that’s what you tell yourself.

A glance at your watch informs you that today is the second day you’ll leave the library early. Rather than give into the stubborn instinct to stay, you decide putting as much distance between yourself and Yoongi is far better for your mental health. With squared shoulders and a raised chin, you head downstairs.

Yoongi’s waiting behind the counter. He isn’t typing on his computer or scanning books. He watches every step you take, arms crossed in front as he leans forward like he’s eager for a confrontation.

“Yoongi,” you say.

“Y/N.”

You use every fiber of will to maintain eye contact as you pass your stack over the counter. “I’ll need these same ones tomorrow.”

“Okay.” He nods. “And the kiss?”

“What kiss?” you croak.

Yoongi’s eyes blaze like you’re a new puzzle to be solved, like he wants to take you apart and find exactly what makes you tick. You feel naked. “The one where you—”

“Must have been someone else. Sorry. Have a good night!” You rush for the door before he can say another word.

Another morning is another day in the library, but this time your roommate begs to tag along.

“Look, I’m not getting anything done on my thesis so maybe you’ll rub off on me,” Taehyung says.

Rolling your eyes, you step through the door he holds open. “I think you’ve had plenty of people rub off on you.”

Gasping with fake indignation, he catches up easily. “Are you calling me a slut?”

“Yes.”

“Good, I wanted to make sure we were on the same page. Is that him?”

Yoongi and Jungkook are talking behind the counter. Jungkook’s hands wave wildly as he recounts whatever information to his boss while Yoongi listens with fake interest. Or that's what someone else might think. The subtle signs he cares are hidden in the details; the miniscule lift of shoulders, a cock of his head, and when Jungkook pouts in a way too ridiculous for a man his size, Yoongi hides a smile in the shake of his head.

“Yes.”

“And I’m the slut?” Taehyung scowls as you pinch his shoulder. “What? He’s a nerd’s walking wet dream.”

“And he can hear you, so shut up.”

“Morning!” Jungkook calls on his way past with a cart full of books.

He grins like he knows exactly what happened on the second floor yesterday but that can’t be true. Yoongi doesn’t seem like the type to kiss and tell. Only the type to kiss and tease you relentlessly for it when no one else is around to hear.

Taehyung’s attention immediately locks on him. You love your roommate, always have and, unfortunately, always will; but he is a slut and Jungkook is definitely his type. However, he’s on your turf and knows better than to fuck where you have to eat for the next few months.

“Y/N, Y/N’s friend,” Yoongi says when you approach his desk.

“Taehyung.”

“Right,” Yoongi drawls, blinking lazily before sliding your books over and turning around to sort something on the opposite counter.

Taehyung, ever the gentleman, grabs the pile for you and follows upstairs.

“Well he seems like a cup of sunshine,” Taehyung whispers.

“Just because he isn’t fawning over you doesn’t mean he’s an asshole.”

“I’m very fawn-able, ask anyone,” your roommate argues as you approach the fifth floor. “Wait, what's this… How to Defeat Your Own Clone and Other Tips for Surviving the Biotech Revolution. This is the type of shit he’s giving you? You’re easier than I am.”

“Give me that.” You snatch the paperback out of his grip. “Stop being nosy.”

Taehyung lets you work in peace after that, disappearing to gather more of his own materials. Even in undergrad he’d never been one to sit still for long. But he still managed to get a spot doing an engineering thesis despite the constant changes in his attention.

After several hours of mind numbing typing you need a break, and another cup of coffee on someone else’s dime sounds perfect.

“I’m getting coffee.”

“Bring me some,” Taehyung says without looking up from his screen.

The staff lounge is nothing fancy. A couple small tables with plastic chairs tucked around, a cork board covered with fliers, and a white board stuck to the fridge scrawled upon with black dry erase marker. The coffee pot sits full in the machine, still hot to the touch.

You pour two cups. Taehyung’s gets loaded with creamer cups until it’s closer to white than black while yours is sweetened to sickening perfection. When you try to take a sip, the liquid immediately burns your tongue. Too hot coffee is better than cold coffee but an ice cube would help make it more palatable.

Moving back to the fridge, you go to open the freeze but stop when the white board catches your attention again.

Most notes are chores or friendly reminders about time cards but almost half the board is dedicated to a back and forth.

‘Unofficial Employee of the Month: Jungkook’

A note in Yoongi’s tight script: ‘You don’t work here.’

‘That’s why it's unofficial!’ in what must be Jungkook’s messy handwriting.

‘You’re my official employee of the month. - Namjoon’

At the bottom is a crude drawing of stick figures, two tall smiling ones holding hands under a rainbow labeled ‘JK’ and ‘Joon’ and a comically shorter one with evil eyebrows surrounded by storm clouds and ‘yoongi :(’ overhead.

“Snooping for secrets?”

“Jesus Christ,” you jump, turning to face Yoongi. “Has anyone ever told you it’s rude to sneak up on people?”

“You’re in the staff lounge, there’s gonna be staff here.” Yoongi crosses to the coffee pot on the counter and pours himself a cup. He doesn’t add cream or sugar or anything else to lessen the bitterness. Cliche. “So, was bringing your boyfriend here your subtle way of letting me down?”

“You think Taehyung is my boyfriend?” You whirl around in shock. Yoongi raises a brow, prompting you to continue. “Jungkook is more his type than I am.”

Yoongi releases a pleased hum, eyes shining. “So no boyfriend then?”

“Nope.”

You’re shaking but don’t look away from his hungry gaze. Yoongi takes a step closer, and another and one more until you're pinned to the countertop and his mouth is on yours.

This time, you're more aware of everything. The smell of his cologne, the tickle of his bangs along your forehead, all the tiny details that were muffled before. Yoongi’s lips are firm against your own, a little chapped but it only makes you hotter with each pass.

His mouth is everywhere; your chin, your jaw, peppering down your throat until he pushes aside the hem of your shirt and sets to work on the jut of your collarbone like he’ll never get a chance again.

“Yoongi,” you hum on the first rake of teeth.

He takes it as an invitation to dig in harder, sucking the skin until your spine threatens to break and you say his name again. Desperate for some kind of anchor, you knot your fingers back in his hair and pull.

A throaty noise responds and the need to hear more rears its head. Yoongi who always watches with measured fascination undone by some light petting. The power is addictive.

Legs spread, he presses in flat. The heat of his cock, rigid beneath the fabric of his jeans, teases across the seam of your own. You're technically still in public but the consequences concern you less than the knowledge that you’ll go mad if you don’t feel him. His arms circle your back, pulling you firmer against him, right to the edge of the linoleum counter.

Wedging a hand between your bodies, you manage to get his zipper undone while your tongue traces along his jaw. Yoongi angles his hips to help, curling into your palm when you cup him over the fabric of his boxers. Every press has him swelling harder.

His hands reach under your shirt. Skin on skin, the rough calluses of his fingers trace your ribs, thumbs following the cup of your bra in a tease. It’s a simple touch but your own hands falter when he brushes a nipple. You melt into each other.

“Hey, Yoongi, do you know where—HOLY SHIT!”

Jungkook stops at the door, eyes wide, mouth wider.

“Get out!” Yoongi barks. He’s trying his best to keep your body covered from the younger man’s view but even if Jungkook isn’t getting a full frontal he isn’t dumb enough not to realize what’s going on.

Yoongi shudders a few breaths. Head hung low, he tucks himself back into his pants without moving away. You’re already slipping down from your perch when he looks back up.

“I’m just gonna…go,” you mumble, scurrying out the door.

Jungkook waits outside, eyes still bugging out of his head but at least has the decency to pretend he didn’t catch you in the act.

Tugging your shirt down, you avoid his gaze. How far would you have let Yoongi go if Jungkook hadn’t interrupted?

“Coffee?” Taehyung asks as you approach the table.

You know what you look like without a mirror. The same as yesterday with glassy eyes and bruised lips, clothes wrinkled. Thankfully, Taehyung is more interested in his modeling software than where you’ve been.

“They were out.”

With a sigh like he is personally victimized by the lack of caffeine, Taehyung collapses on the table and plays dead. But he perks up at the sound of footsteps approaching behind you.

“You left this in the break room,” Yoongi says, dropping a cup of coffee by your side before disappearing.

You turn to follow his retreating for until he’s hidden back between the shelves. The back of his hair is still messy despite his attempt to fix it, same with the wrinkles in his shirt from your hands.

“I thought they were out?” Taehyung eyes you suspiciously when you look back at him.

Cradling the still hot cup in your hands, you avoid his gaze. “Shut up.”

“So you do have to sleep with someone to get a cup of coffee.”

“I’m not sleeping with him,” you spit in a harsh whisper.

“Why not?”

“Because…”

Because what exactly? There isn’t a good reason other than the fact Jungkook was the king of cockblocks. You would have let Yoongi do just about anything he wanted and he seemed to be in agreement. But you’d rather die than admit that out loud.

“You are so smart and so incredibly stupid.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, rising to pack his things. “I need to pee.”

You point him in the direction of the bathrooms and get back to work.

When Taehyung returns minutes later he starts shoving his things in his bag. “I’m leaving.”

“Why?”

“This is like the epicenter of hot smart men and I refuse to suffer any longer.”

“You got Jungkook’s number,” you deadpan.

Taehyung can’t hide his own shit eating grin. “Yoongi gave it to me.”

“If you’re leaving, so am I.”

“Why?” your roommate whines.

“Because I got you a hot date and that means you owe me dinner.”

“Technically it was Yoongi but I’ll concede.” Taehyung heaves his bag up. “Come now my dearest, we can still get happy hour if we hurry.”

You reach in your own bag and toss him your keys. “Go wait in the car. I’ve gotta go grab another book real quick.”

“Whatever,” Taehyung says, mumbling something like ‘nerds’ under his breath as he heads downstairs.

You find Yoongi while on your way to his desk, already toting around the cart piled high with returns from the day. Several of the covers are Taehyung’s picks and somehow the knowledge they’ve spoken almost knocks you off kilter. Taehyung is a good wingman and that’s what worries you most.

“Hi,” he says, kneeling to put a book on a low shelf.

It shouldn’t have the effect it does but something about the way Yoongi looks up at you, on his knees, head tipped back, has your mind running wild with the image of him in the same position with both of you wearing far less clothing. Maybe if you weren’t interrupted in the staff lounge you’d have seen it in real life.

“Hi. Mind if I add these to the pile?”

“Go ahead.”

The Stocking was Hung sits on top. You don’t wait around to see his reaction.

The temperature had steadily been increasing over the past weeks but this morning is the worst of all. That inescapable warmth fully seeded overnight and promised the comforting days of sweaters and pants are long gone.

Heat makes you lazy and fitful. In the early hours, long before you actually need to be awake, you stare up at the ceiling of your room. Not even a frigid shower helped the stickiness of your skin or laying still in your bed in nothing but one of Taehyung’s shirts and ratty shorts. It followed you everywhere until you left for the same brick building you spend more time at than at home.

Without thought, you throw on the first seasonally appropriate outfit in your closet; a thin dress that covers enough for the public but promises to keep you cool.

Yoongi seems to be taking the change in weather as well as you are. His usual attire is absent, nothing but a white shirt clinging to his torso. The pale skin of his forearms briefly catches your attention but you focus anywhere else to stop from rounding the desk and finishing what started upstairs.

You steel yourself and approach the desk, determined to act normal.

Familiar dark eyes flash up to greet you but Yoongi’s mouth doesn’t form any words. He just stares at you. You can feel the weight of his gaze on your shoulders, your neck, and then he pointedly keeps them trained on your eyes. Like he's willing to pretend yesterday didn’t happen.

He doesn’t speak when he passes over the same pile of books as yesterday but you can feel him burn a hole in your back. Even after you climb up the stairs and out of sight, the prickling sensation you’re being watched follows.

You don’t get anything done. The words on the page might as well be another language as your mind races.

Yoongi didn’t give you an extra book today.

An endless list of potential explanations race through your mind. Maybe you’d been too forward with your choice. Maybe he’s gotten it out of his system, a quick tryst in the employee lounge enough to satiate his curiosity. Maybe because it’s the second time you’ve brushed him off. Even if it wasn’t your fault Jungkook stumbled in before anything worthwhile could happen.

But he isn’t speaking to you and he isn’t giving you the random book you’ve come to look forward to every morning.

Channeling the restless energy of overthinking, you take a lap around the floor. You pause to flip through random books as you zigzag through the stacks. Anything to take your mind off the unshakable tension sticking in the air like syrup.

Your laptop is in sleep mode by the time you reluctantly come back. Everything is as you left except a book you’ve never seen before sits on top of the open one you’d been reading.

There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom.

A sticky note sticks up from the inside of the cover. A bolt of excitement shoots down your spine. When you flip it open a familiar handwriting stares back: ‘on the seventh floor’.

You hadn’t been gone too long but the fear of making him wait has you rushing up the stairs. Each step brings you closer to where he waits until you’re opening the bathroom door.

“Yoongi?”

A hand wraps around your upper arm, yanking you in. Another hand silences a surprised shout before you realize it’s Yoongi and not a murderer pinning you to the interior of the door you just came through.

“Jesus, you scared me.”

“Sorry,” he breathes. “It’s just not a good look for me to be up here.”

“Oh, really?” You smile. “And why is that?”

“This is my job.”

“Didn’t seem to stop you before.”

“Who says it’s stopping me now?”

He thumbs the strap of your dress, hooking under the thin material and dragging it down your arm. The heat and weight of Yoongi against you, touching you so simply, makes you vibrate. Yoongi moves into your neck, panting with a grind against your thigh. “I swear I don’t usually do this.”

You want to argue that you have two accounts that he does do this often, at least with you. But for someone who says they don’t, Yoongi is surprisingly natural. The tease prickling the end of your tongue fizzles out under his teeth across the curve of your shoulder, goosebumps blossoming along your back.

A whimper unbecoming of an adult woman breaks the lullaby of summer air conditioner singing through the vents. You’re sweating under the cling of your dress, skin hot to the touch thanks to Yoongi’s attention; long fingers curved around your waist, thumbs skimming just under your breast.

“Could have fooled me.”

“This is a very nice dress.” His mouth bites down your neck, taking advantage of the new strips of skin the neckline unveils.

“That’s all it takes?” you pant from the wet of his tongue. “A pretty dress?”

“If you think,” he whispers into your ear. “I’m doing this because of your dress then you really haven’t been paying attention.”

The dark locks of his hair are too alluring to resist, tempting one of your own hands to scratch against the tip of his spine when Yoongi rolls against you again. A firm tug brings him to your mouth, lips molding to one another in a searing kiss. You can taste the coffee from the lounge and the faintest hint of cigarette smoke, like he thought to hide it before asking you to follow him.

“How long? How long have you wanted this?”

Yoongi hooks one of your thighs higher, savoring the heat of your core against the crotch of his pants with a slow thrust. “Since you came in and busted my balls over not having that archived manuscript when the website said we did.”

You remember that day. Patience thin from Taehyung’s loud overnight guest, you stormed into the library looking to take it out on a photocopy of the manuscript only for the only copy to be AWOL. Yoongi became the surrogate for your rage, his eyes burning into your skull as questioned how he could let it happen.

The next day was when he started adding books to your stack.

“That was months ago.”

“I’m a patient guy.”

You want him naked; ache to catalog what he’s hidden underneath bulky sweaters and loose button ups over the past few months. But that idea has to wait for somewhere less risky. You settle for dipping your hand under his shirt, tracing your fingers over the elastic of his boxers peeking from the waistband of his pants.

Attempting to hide the effect he has, you loop your fingers in his belt loops and pull him even closer so your face is hidden in the crook of his neck. “There’s a Boy in the Girls’ Bathroom? A little on the nose, don’t you think?”

“Like The Stocking was Hung is any better?” Yoongi sighs as your mouth ghosts over the rising vein webbing the side of his throat.

“Hey!” you object, rising to face him. “I thought you’d appreciate it after that mothman book.”

“I appreciate you complimenting my dick plenty.”

Yoongi doesn’t let you go, hands palming at the swell of your ass the entire way from the door to the counter. He’s got one hand curved along your jaw, thumb hooked around your chin and his teeth bruising your lower lip. The edge of granite digs in your spine but not for long as he lifts you and settles on his knees to dive under your skirt.

He kisses up your calf, tongue snaking across the knob of your knee then the plush of your thigh. Just when you feel a puff of breath against the damp crotch of your panties, Yoongi falls to repeat the same path against your other leg.

You don’t suffer for long. Pooling the excess fabric around your waist, Yoongi blinks up from between your thighs. The pink of his tongue follows the edge of your panties, wetting the fabric more until it clings obscenely.

He pushes his glasses up to rest on the top of his head, keeping the mess of gray and black hair out of his eyes before diving back down.

His tongue lathers over your covered slit with a groan. “Taste better than I imagined.”

“You thought about this?”

“Couldn’t stop thinking about it. On my desk, yours, against that fucking bookshelf.” Yoongi punctures each word with more wet kisses against your core. “In my car, my bed. Everywhere.”

A cool breath has your thighs squeezing around his head thanks to the erotic combination of his spit and your own fluids drenching your panties. “Is this all you think about?”

“I had to come up here and jerk off yesterday because I couldn’t stop thinking about your hands.”

Your panties are pulled to the side before you can indulge in the new visual blooming on the edge of consciousness. “Yoongi.”

Eyes closed, his mouth circles your clit, tongue gently stroking you to life. Every pass against the sensitive bundle of nerves has your thighs squeezing around his head.

The first prod of fingers makes Yoongi’s hold on the crook of your knee tighten. He stretches you back open, eyes following the way you suck him inside; coating his spindly digits with more arousal each time.

“A-ah,” you shake. “Please.”

Yoongi chances a glance up at your face, the needy sheen in your eyes, the way your mouth gapes, and decides to take mercy.

He latches back onto your clit. Yoongi groans as you tug his hair, knocking his glasses to the ground. The pace he works your remains lethargic, savoring the kick of your hips until you grind against his mouth.

Throaty groans vibrate against your cunt, tightening the muscles along the inside of your thighs. Neither of you are doing a good job muffling yourselves but if it’s between getting caught and having him stop then you’ll deal with the consequences when they come.

“Oh, Yoongi.” Your chest pulls tight; spurred on by the sounds of Yoongi bullying your insides, his mouth smacking against your folds. “I’m— oh, oh, oh!”

The rough crook of his fingers sends you flying. Only the pressure of his shoulders keep you from slipping off the counter as you explode against his mouth. Euphoria rushes your veins, licks of pleasure overwhelming. Every muscle quivers as Yoongi works you through until you use his hair to pull him away.

He’s quick on his feet. You’re still recovering as Yoongi pushes your bra down and draws one of your nipples into his mouth, licking and sucking until you pull his hair again. Eyes cinched tight, face wet, you force his pants open then his underwear until Yoongi is almost as exposed as you are; pretty in your palm, sticky and hot to the touch.

But it’s not enough to feel him in your hand, you need to feel him inside. To fill you up where you sit hollow and aching without his fingers to provide a sliver of relief. “Fuck me.”

Yoongi doesn’t tease, has no quip about how needy you are. He keeps his mouth on your chest and uses his hands to grab something out of his pocket. It happens so fast you don’t even realize the condom is on until he nudges between your legs.

Your nails dig into his back, breathing through the initial stretch is the only way you stay quiet. Yoongi hides himself back in your neck, strained noises clawing out of his throat.

Yoongi isn’t gentle. Not caution or waiting. Months of push and pull destroy any desire for him to treat you as something fragile. He rushes into desperately, forcing your palm flat against the mirror behind you for some semblance of stability.

“God,” he grunts. “You’re incredible.”

You whimper a quiet acknowledgement, too fucked out to blush under his praise; pulling Yoongi closer until he’s scooping his hands underneath your ass, thrusting into you over and over. His mouth finds yours. Greedy. Hungry.

It’s Yoongi who struggles to stay quiet. Even through the kiss he moans loud enough you feel it in your throat. You listen to them all, twisting the hand knotted in his hair to hear the whine you’ve quickly become obsessed with.

“Should have done this sooner,” your back arches and Yoongi’s mouth slips back down.

“I tried. But you kept ignoring me.”

“I wasn’t—fuck—ignoring you.” Yoongi is everywhere. His taste on your mouth, cologne burned in your nose. The feel of him all over your body. “Shit.”

He fucks you harder to prove a point, hand slipping down to rub your clit. Your second orgasm glows on the edges. If Yoongi keeps playing with you, stretching you in half on his cock and biting a mark into your breast, you know you’ll come.

You focus on breathing. Letting it come to you instead of chasing it, overthinking it to the point it evades you. It’s easier than usual. Yoongi doesn't leave room for anything else beyond feeling good.

“Oh my god,” you whisper as the cord tightens.

Everything turns white hot, pleasure tearing through your muscles and ripping them to shreds. You convulse in Yoongi’s hold, only pinned down by his hips fucking you brutally. Nerves shot, Yoongi babbles praise in your ear but it's indecipherable from the headrush.

Yoongi follows you over the edge a few strokes later, twitching inside you until he stills. His hips give a few arrhythmic bucks as he fills the condom with his load.

There's something nastier about clothed sex. The way sweat makes your clothes cling tighter, the rush of needing each other so badly you can’t be bothered to do more than pull things to the side.

You feel dirty but in a good way. Yoongi kisses across the apples of your cheeks, your chin, your forehead, even your brows, but never returns to your lips. Each leaves you more frustrated than the last, muscles twitching beneath and head turning at the last second to try and meet his mouth.

Tricking you with a brief connection, he laughs when you chase his lips as he dodgers back. But a pout and whine bring him back into your orbit.

He cleans you up with paper towels, wiping away the mess between your thighs with something akin to disappointment. But he doesn’t complain as he fixes your clothes and then his own. Muscles like jelly, you fall into his side when he helps you down from the counter.

With a kiss to your temple, “Let's get out of here.”

“Morning, Yoongi.” You smile as you walk up to his desk.

A set of dark eyes rise to greet you, taking the cup of coffee you so graciously offer before smiling as well. “Good morning.”

Jungkook gawks like he’s never seen you two speak before. Round eyes bounce between you and Yoongi as if it’s a tennis match instead of a normal conversation. Probably because Yoongi was less than subtle when he pulled you out of the building yesterday, telling him to call Namjoon if anything came up.

Or maybe because you’re wearing one of Yoongi’s shirts.

You discovered much about the mysterious librarian overnight. He’d taken you back to his apartment; a perfect extension of himself decorated with dark furniture and more books than anyone could possibly read. Yoongi owned a collection of vinyl records that rivaled his book collection, he was a great cook, and he was studying to take the entrance exam for law school.

After you were wined and dined, Yoongi dedicated hours between your legs. On his couch, against the massive bookcase in his living room, between the sheets of his bed.

He also had a kink for eating you out while you explained your thesis in precise detail.

You’d only been allowed to leave when Yoongi was getting ready for work, not that you'd put up much argument.

You make a scene of sorting through the stack he slides over. It’s not that you don’t trust Yoongi. But now that you’ve had a taste, you’re addicted to his presence. But he unfortunately can’t follow you upstairs so you savor the time now.

“One of my books is missing,” you say.

“Oh, right.”

Yoongi passes over an unfamiliar copy.

Maybe He Just Likes You

And the blue sticky note attached, with his handwriting. ‘Dinner when you're done?’

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @dokyeomkyeom @yoonguurt

#kvanity #ksmutsociety #yoongi x reader #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi smut #min yoongi fluff #min yoongi angst #min yoongi #yoongi smut #yoongi fic #yoongi fluff #bts smut #bts fluff #🫡 highvern

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cashmoneyyysstuff · 2 months ago

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HI ILY!!! i was wondering if u could do a argument fic likeeeee katsuki and reader got into a argument and they are both DISTRAUGHT bc they’re so corny and in love and hate fighting but the argument was bad and they’re oh so sad whatever whatever !! and katsuki has to make it up to them EEE !! PLEASE I LIVE EAT SLEEP AND BREATHE UR FANFICS !! LOVE U CASHHH🤍

operation : trouble in paradise !

katsuki tries to get his boyfriend privileges back..

EEEE TYSM AND I ACTUALLY LOVE THIS ASK !! Its my guilty pleasure like both parties hating to argue bc they love each other so much im so sorry that’s adorable. and again ty SOOO much !!! hope you enjoy, ive actually gotten a similar ask, so that one ill try to have that come out soon !

FEM READER, katsuki is melodramatic, argument, fluff fluff despite argument, 3rd year bk squad boys !, kissing, making up yipeee, reader likes flowers,lemme know if i missed sum else !

“she fuckin’ hates me.”

for the past ten minutes he’d barged into kirishima’s room, bakugou has been moping. wallowing, even.

“no she doesn’t, man..” kirishima reassured. for the umpteenth time, he’s honestly lost count. he’d tried putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder earlier but said boy had shrugged him off angrily, grumbling out a dramatic “don’t touch me.” despite being flopped face down on his bed.

“i know her better, kirishima. yes she does.” the blonde insists, voice muffled by the redhead’s pillows. kirishima sighs, patting his friends leg before making his way to his office chair across from the bed, ignoring the muffled grumbles bakugou lets out.

“how bout you just..go apologize ?”

“i already told you i can’t. she—”

“yeah, she hates you. got it.” kirishima finishes his friends sentence, causing the blond to groan. “look dude, you’ll never know unless you try. you’ve been together for ages now.”

“a year.” katsuki corrects, he purposely forgets to mention he knows exactly how many months it has been too. kirishima nods excitedly, trying to get him out of his frankly sad state. “yeah ! so, this shouldn’t be anything man. arguments happen all the time, no matter how much you love each other.”

katsuki feels his ears burn at the word love on his friends lips, he’s told you he loved you of course. but it still felt weird to acknowledge it.

he turns just enough for his scowl to be visible to his friend, who sends him an encouraging smile.

“so what the fuck do i do then ?” kirishima grins wider, sharp teeth on display. “there we go, that’s more like ya, dude !” he exclaims. he quickly shuffles to grab a notepad strewn onto his messy desk (kirishima’s desk was so messy it made katsuki itch sometimes, a shiver almost passes through him whenever he sees the state it’s in)

kirishima drops onto the floor, placing the notepad onto his mattress and scribbling, with a pen katsuki has no idea where he fished out, a messy “operation: get your bf privileges back !!!!!!” bakugou fixes kirishima with a dead look, the other only tilts his head, still cheerful.

“what ?”

“what the fuck is this, kirishima.”

kirishima scoffs at the blonde’s dead tone, “listen man, you wanna win your girlfriend back or not ?!” bakugou squints at him, hard. but only let’s out a loud sigh. kirishima takes that as his answer and with a nod continues writing down notes.

katsuki groans to himself, looking down at his friend scribbling down his grand plan, and he better hope it works.

maybe you should call him..

no, you won’t. it was his fault you were like this anyway.

..but maybe you went a bit too far..?

ugh. you groan, rolling around in your bed. you’d tried to distract yourself by going through your tiktok feed but it seemed the world was against you or your fbi agent hated your guts. your feed was either overly cutesy couples content that made you miss your angry blond, or break up videos that made you miss him even more.

ugh. you shove your head even harder in your pillows.

you’re really trying to hold your ground, because you want katsuki to know he’d hurt your feelings, but now that you think about it you don’t even remember what you’d argued about. it was petty for sure, you’re about 80% sure it was a petty argument.

maybe you should—

you shake your head, steeling your nerves. so what if it was a dumb argument ?! that didn’t mean he could get away with everything!

“uuuugh,” you groan out loud, you miss your katsuki.

a knock at your door startles you. it must be mina, you’d texted her earlier that you were mad at your boyfriend and she’d told you that she “excepted all the deets of what his dumbass did this time as SOON as i get back !!!!” and you were waiting, maybe venting about it could make you feel better and less dramatic.

you open your door expecting to see your overly excited best friend. but instead—

flowers, almost whacking you in the face you might add, are shoved in your face before you can get a word out. you squeak in shock, they’re pretty though, your favorites. and you know only one person who knows what your favorite flowers are.

“wh-katsuki ?!”

and there he is, red faced and angry. scowl on his face and bouquet of pretty flowers in hand.

you can’t tear your eyes away from him, he can’t keep his eyes in one spot—flying from you occasionally to your door to the flowers and repeat. he blinks, you blink.

“here.” he grunts, waving the flowers towards you. “f’r you.” he glances at you.

“o-oh !” you exclaim suddenly, whisking the flowers towards yourself. the bouquet is big, it’s definitely a bit bigger than your head. katsuki searches your face to gauge your reaction“i—uhm! thank you..” you utter shyly, katsuki grunts. he shoves his hands in his pockets the moment you’ve gripped the bouquet, kicking at something you can’t see on the floor.

your heart skips a beat. tentatively, you lean against the door “didn’t take you for a flower guy..”

he scoffs, kicking the toe of his sneakers against the floor “‘m not.. but you like these, right ?”

trick question. he knows you do, you mentioned in passing these were your favorites, unless you suddenly decided you didn’t like these anymore. then he’s fucked. but he decides to continue despite the worry growing in his lower belly, the plan was already a go now.

“i—uhm, listen..” your boyfriend fumbles, he throws his head back and groans when his words won’t come out right. you give him a tiny smile, his eyes soften just a bit.

“i fucked up, okay ?” he admits, scratching at his nape “shouldn’t have said all that shit to you, or whatever..” you can tell he’s beyond embarrassed. he’d melt if he could get any redder, he keeps scratching and won’t look at you for more than a few seconds at a time and katsuki who’s always the loudest in the room can barely manage a mumble. you know he means it though, he never did anything he didn’t feel like doing. you wait for him to continue and he looks at you then.

“i don’t ever like arguing with you. ever.” he insists “so jus..forgive me, kay ?” he finishes quietly. your heart jumps and leaps and you can’t stand acting cold anymore. you walk a bit closer to him, the flowers block you from fully being close to him.

katsuki’s eyes are wide as you lean in to kiss right next to his lips, you laugh at his bewildered expression and his eyes soften when he snaps out of it. he rolls his eyes, you smile wider.

“i forgive you, i’m sorry too. i don’t like arguing with you either..” you admit, katsuki reaches for your hand, you feel the tips of his fingers brush against your skin, you give it to him and he grips it tight. then he leans in and presses a kiss to your lips, it’s a sweet little apology kiss that turns a bit too passionate after a while, and you pull him towards you and into your room away from prying eyes. katsuki kicks the door shut behind him and pulls you closer by your waist.

“guess i gotta—thank shitty hair..” he mumbles in between kisses, “an’ i owe him twenty bucks.”

you make a noise against his lips and pull away, raising a brow and holding his shoulders when he tries to lean in to kiss you again. “what’s that mean ?”

your boyfriend huffs “told shitty hair i’d give him twenty bucks if his shitty plan worked.”

“plan, what plan ?” you ask, katsuki squints at you, a grumbling noise comes from his throat, almost a whine.

“yer really gonna make me spell it out aren’t you..” he mutter bitterly, shoving his head in your neck. he continues, “shitty hair helped me come up with a plan to make you not mad at me anymore. i told him it wouldn’t work, he said it would, and we bet on it.”

you laugh in disbelief, katsuki chomps at your neck to silence you, squeezes his arms tighter around your stomach to make you wheeze, but you can’t stop laughing. “that’s so cute !”

“shaddup.” he growls in response. you muffle your giggles in his shoulder. katsuki grumbles some more and you run your hands up and down his back.

“well then,” you hum, pressing a kiss to his nape, his arms around you tighten. “i guess we’ll both have to thank kiri then.”

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that-sarcastic-writer · 2 months ago

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Hi can u please write about domestic life with Bills Eric Draven? Can there be fluffy and smutty moments? Tyyyy

Boy can I??? I’d be DELIGHTED. His domesticity is all I think about. He’s the sweetest, kindest and most loving bf and you can’t change my mind. I got a little carried away! Hopefully this is what you were wanting! Enjoy doll!

Bf!Eric x gf!reader. Explicit sexual content under the cut, minors dni, oral (f receiving), p in v. brief mentions of drug use, mostly fluffy relationship stuff

It wasn’t entirely easy. You and Eric. The circumstances under which you met and the nature of the both of you was quite dysfunctional. You were chaos, and he was a mess. But it worked. The two of you. You worked perfectly. You weren’t sure what it was, you had never been able to maintain a healthy relationship with anyone. But it was almost like you were meant to be together. If you didn’t believe in the whole soulmates thing, you started to believe it when you met Eric.

He was so unreal, so out of this world. He was always by your side, fingers laced with yours, arm thrown over your shoulder. He always had to be touching you, whether it was something as little as holding your hand, or going as far as putting you in a matting press when he fucked you, because he hated the idea of not being as close to you as possible. He never meant to, he didn’t even know what it was. He just did it one day. Your knees damn near next to your head, your body nearly folded in half as he draped his body over yours. You didn’t even know your body could bend this way. But god this you like it. How deep he could be this way. And you had him so close you could hear his little sounds, his hard breathing and his soft grunts.

He always felt a little bad, manhandling you around like you were nothing. If he wasn’t bending your body in ways you didn’t think were human, he was putting you in a headlock as he took you from behind, one arm draped around your neck from shoulder to shoulder. He just wanted you close, afraid you’d run away. But he sometimes forgot to take it easy on you. You always assured him you were more than happy with him, that he wouldn’t hurt you. Deep down it made you all kinds of earn to know you could arise such passions from him. For someone so morbidly quiet and nonchalant, Eric was very intense and passionate lover.

“It’s okay, baby. I got you. You’re doing so good.” He would tell you, his voice soft and quiet in your ear, grounding you as his cock fucked you into nothing. “I just want to make you feel good, hm? Just want to make you feel good. That’s what you deserve.”

“I don’t deserve this. You’re too good for me.” He would say, his lips on your cheek as quiet moans spilled from your lips. “You’re just so… I can’t believe you’re all mine.” His name falling from your lips would be the end of him. So soft and desperate for him. He didn’t have much experience before you, but now he just can’t get enough of you. He wanted to be all over you at all times it actually upset him when you had to leave or when he did.9

But he was also oh so kind, so gentle and patient with you. He always followed you around like an oversized puppy, quietly listening to whatever tangent you would go on about. You could be cursing up a storm (albeit not directed at him) and he would take it with a straight face and big eyes. And it was often that nothing more but his presence would calm you down, center you.

“How do you do it?” You asked him one day, hot tears staining your face after a day of one stressor after another. Eric had managed to get you on the couch where he silently sat you down on his lap. You almost immediately curled up into his lap, legs tucked under you and your head on his chest. You felt an almost instant sense of relief and peace fill you, and you were sighing deeply, feeling your heart slow its fast beating.

“Do what?” He asked you softly, his fingers massaging your head calmly. You rested your hand on his chest, eyes closed.

“This. You calm me down. I was crying two minutes ago and now I feel… okay.” You felt him shrug under you and when you looked up he had a smile on his face. That smile could make you forget any grief or sadness you might have, because none of it really mattered.

But it wasn’t just him who could bring you peace, you were his, too. His lows weren’t as intense or visible as yours, but when he was at his low, he was at an all time low. He wouldn’t speak, he wouldn’t eat, he would just go about his day like a corpse, eyes dead and empty and his mind elsewhere. You understood he had his issues too, so you tried to be there for him without pushing him. You were more subtle. You’d make him dinner, you’d invite him to watch a movie with you. And you’d tangle up with him on the couch as you all but forced him to eat, and you’d talk to him about your day. But something so small always meant so much to him. He couldn’t help the way he felt, he couldn’t help his negative thoughts that drove him to do drugs in the first place, but having you around to remind him someone in this world loved and cared for him, it made it all a little bit easier.

Eric started to bring you flowers one day. Every week once a week, he could come home with your favorite flowers. He alternated colors. With a sheepish smile he’d stand in the doorway with his hands behind his back. And the way he would look at you when gushed about how pretty they were was like he was looking at the most beautiful thing in the world, the only one that mattered. And to him you were. Seeing that smile on your face was the only thing he ever wanted to do.

“You like them?” He would ask as if it wasn’t obvious, but he’d do it just to hear you giggle and watch you all but skip to put them in water. “Yeah? I saw them and thought about you.”

He always thought about you. There wasn’t a single waking second where he didn’t. You were good for him. And he knew that. He didn’t need anything else to fill the emptiness in his chest because he had you. You had filled that hole and he made sure you knew that everyday.

Eric had many ways to show his love and devotion for you. He wrote you poems, he drew for you, you had so many sketches you have started to run out of places to hang them, but this one was by far his favorite. He could spend literal hours between your legs. He absolutely loved it. He was absolutely obsessed with it.

“E-Eric.. Please.” You were shaking, sweating, incoherent as his tongue circled on your clit, his long fingers fucking you through your, fourth, fifth? You stopped keeping count. He had been down there for an eternity. He just kept asking for one more, just one more and he’d leave you alone. But it wasn’t enough. He was quite obsessive with the things he wanted.

But he figured he’d have to give you a break eventually. He was also painfully hard.

“I’m sorry baby.” He muttered softly as he crawled up your body, using the back of his hand to wipe the mess you had made, but his plush lips were still bright red and glistening. “You know I get carried away sometimes… You’re just so..”

He would kiss your face, brush your hair, soothe you back into a functioning human being. It wasn’t often that Eric vocalized his thoughts, but in moments like this when he felt safe and comfortable enough to be vulnerable, he would tell you all about how pretty you were, how talented you were, how much he loved you.

Eric was always full of surprises. He was quiet and nonchalant, but he was impulsive. You learned that very quickly.

“Baby?” You heard Eric call out to you as he came into the loft. You sat on the computer as you listened to one of his recordings. He had asked you to help him out since he really wanted to start pursuing his music and art now that he actually had someone that supported him.

With a smile, you took your headphones off and went to greet him, but you immediately frowned when you saw him hold something wrapped up in his hoodie.

“Hey, whatcha got there?” You stood up, approaching him with narrowed eyes as he broke out a smile.

“I’m sorry. I just found it, I just.. I felt bad.” He pulled down his hoodie to reveal a precious little kitten. A black ball of fur coating its little face. Your heart immediately sank and you wanted to cry.

“Oh my god, Eric.” You took the kitten into your hands and your eyes started watering as you hugged it. Eric wasn’t sure what to make of your reaction. Did you hate it? Were you upset?

“No, baby, I’m sorry. I found it outside, it’s kinda cold and it was drinking from a puddle. I didn’t want a car to hit it. We don’t have to keep it if you don’t want to, we can take it to a shelter or something.” He started to mumble, a hand coming to rub the back of his head and his lips fell open when he saw a tear fall down your cheek. He approached you, reaching to grab your face. “Please don’t cry.”

“No… No Eric I’m not..” You sniffled, laughing softly through your tears as you leaned into Eric’s chest while still hugging the now purring black ball of fur. “I’m not upset at all. It’s just… I’ve never had my own pet before. And it’s so cute, can we keep it, please? It’d be our little child.”

The way you looked at him with big pleading eyes made him feel so warm, he never thought he’d feel something like this. He smiled, nodding as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Of course we can keep it. He’s kinda cute, right?” Eric chuckled as he scratched the little one’s head.

“Or she.”

Your little ball of fur wasn’t the only thing you and Eric shared. You got so many matching tattoos it was concerning. Your friends and family had even told you it was odd to get tattoos with a guy you had been dating for only a few months. But it didn’t matter to you. You didn’t know why, but deep down you knew your connection with Eric was out of this world. So what were a couple tattoos? You loved that you had a physical reminder of your connection with him. The feelings deep within your souls were forever marked on your skin, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Truth was, Eric loved tracing each and every one of your tattoos. He traced his fingers over the fine lines, traced the words, he traced his lips over them too. He particularly loved the ones on your back and on your stomach, the ones no one but him could see. They were his little secret.

You matched each other perfectly, in every way.

#eric draven x reader #Eric Draven x you #Eric Draven smut #eric draven 2024 #the crow #the crow 2024

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nana-gumi · 8 months ago

Note

I LOVE LOVE LOVE YOUR ANGST SM, WELL WRITTEN ISTG!! as one of my favorite angst writer, i had this idea in my mind for a long time. imagine you found out that you're 12 weeks pregnant and you were too excited to surprise satoru about it but when he came home, he broke the news that he got his ex pregnant. he was cheating and the surprise slipped out of your mind and you got angry at him and led into an argument... YOU CAN CONTINUE IF YOU WANT. I REALLY WANT TO SEE HOW OR WHAT ENDING YOU'LL WRITE. and also, make it a very very angst 😋

anyway, don't be a stranger g.satoru

pairings: gojo satoru x fem! reader

cw: heavy angst, infidelity, pregnancy, illness, mentions of death, cremation, as usual not proofread hehe

a/n: YOU ASKED FOR THIS OKAY?? anyways, happy reading :p

it was positive.

the moment you saw two red lines from the pregnancy test you bought, you didn't know what to feel at first, you were in disbelief so you tried it for the second, and third time, but the results did not change at all so you took this as a cue to visit a doctor, and there was no doubt in it, it was revealed that you were 12 weeks pregnant.

how should you tell your husband? satoru was barely home from his work after all. you knew how hard it is to be a new company's head so you understand him.

and so you dialed satoru's number as you nervously bit your bottom lip. he answered at the fifth ring.

"hello?"

"satoru–" you paused, and a small smile made its way on your lips. "can you come home, tonight? are you busy?"

"uh, not really." he sounded unsure but you didn't even noticed it on how excited you were.

"can you come home tonight, please?" you repeated.

"alright." he said as you heard him sigh from the other line "i– wanted to tell you something." he said and satoru's tone was unrecognizable, it was like his voice was slightly shaking.

"okay?" you worriedly said. "see you later, satoru. i love youuu."

"mhm, i love you too."

if someone would see you right now, they would, in an instant, notice that you were celebrating something special. you sure were prepared for satoru's return, you even wore nice dress and a cardigan as you await for his arrival.

and here he comes.

satoru enters the door and saw you approaching him.

"welcome home." you said as you leaned your face his chest followed by a kiss on his cheek. it was unusual on how he didn't return your advances as he walked past you.

his gloomy approach was affecting you as you placed a concerning hand on his shoulder, the surprise you prepared for him suddenly slipping out of your mind.

"what's wrong, honey?" you asked as you felt him tense up.

"you know i love you, right?" he said, and you thought you've read those words from a book before. you just hoped that the words he would say next wouldn't hurt you as much as the words on the book did.

you hummed in response as satoru turned to face you.

"i'm really sorry, my love. please forgive me."

"satoru, what's wrong? why are you– i'm scared." you said as satoru face palmed, his own body giving up as he was forced to sit down on the couch as he opened his mouth to speak and..

what was he saying? you sure you've heard it but, it sounds muffled when it entered your ears.

"i'm so sorry." he said as he stood up, embracing you as tight as he could so you wouldn't have a chance to step away from him.

"how long?" you muttered and satoru wasn't familiar with the tone of your voice. he didn't respond and it made your blood boil as you pushed him. "i asked how long!" you yelled.

"4 months."

"4 months?! 4 fucking months and you're just informing me about it right now? is that why you're not always home?!" you were screaming at this point and satoru tried to reach for your hand but you were quick to draw back.

"i already cut off ties with her! please believe me."

"satoru, you got someone pregnant! do you want the child to grow up without a father?" you exclaimed as you released a heavy sigh.

"it was just a mistake, we were drunk." satoru said as he embraced you.

"are you sure you'd let me attend the reunion?"

"yup, why? don't you want to?" you said as you fixed his tie.

"my ex is going to be there, though." he said and out of all the reactions he could get from you, he didn't expect you to smile at him as you pinch his nose.

"i trust you, satoru. i already did the moment we exchanged vows."

satoru was sure that the trust you had for him was already gone by now.

"take responsibility, satoru." you said as you push him by his chest.

"i love you so so so much, (name). please, i can't live without you."

"satoru, you can't just have me around while raising a child with another woman! what would people say?"

"like i told you, i already cut off ties with her."

"i know how it feels to grow up without a father, satoru." you mumbled as you look down on the ground. "it'll be fine. i'll manage, somehow."

"no–"

"why are you being stubborn!"

"you're being selfish!" he exclaimed as you gasp in surprise. selfish? you? how could he say that.

"you'll thank me someday, satoru." you mumbled.

"(name), please.."

"satoru. understand the situation." you weren't screaming anymore and.. why was he crying?

satoru took your hand on his as he placed it on his cheek and leaned on it, his tears stopping on your fingers and, you couldn't help but tear up as well.

"it'll be fine." you mumbled, voice breaking as you closed your eyes.

"i swear with all of my heart, that i love love love you. i'm sorry, forgive me. i didn't have enough courage to tell you sooner, because i was scared that it'll end up, like how it is now."

"it'll eventually come, you can't hide it from me forever, y'know." the storm was starting to calm as both of you spoke with hushed tones. "now go."

"let's talk about this one more time, please?" he mumbled as you slowly removed his hand on yours.

"then tell me, 'toru. what's there left for us to talk about?" you asked and satoru was, unfortunately quiet. "there's nothing, right?"

"love, please. i'm so sorry."

"what's done is done, satoru. we couldn't possibly go back in time and fix everything, right?"

"please." he whispered, hoping for something that he, himself doesn't even know what.

"i won't hate you for this, satoru. it's just– i hope you told me sooner."

"i'm so sorry. i'm grateful to have you as my wife, i'm sorry if i couldn't treat you like how you deserve it."

he really didn't deserve you. you were so understanding that satoru couldn't even look at you in the eyes.

"i'll say it as many times as i could. i love you. i didn't regret marrying you." he said as he cupped your tear stained cheeks and leaned his forehead on yours. "i don't really deserve you." satoru leaned in, kissing you and kissed back because both of you knew that, it was for the last time.

satoru left your apartment after settling things out. you fell on the couch as you felt something on the pocket of your cardigan.

"fuck." you muttered as you laughed bitterly, clutching the results in your hand, placing it close to your chest. you forgot the surprise and now that satoru have made up his mind, you knew there was no point on telling him anymore. grow up without a father, huh? now you're the one to talk.

a week has passed.

"hey." he acknowledged as he sat beside you inside the court.

"hey." you responded as you fiddle with your fingers. a gesture satoru noticed when you're uncomfortable. were you uncomfortable around him?

"how have you been?"

"i don't know." you said as satoru went silent.

"are you okay? let's stop this divorce if you–?"

"no, i just don't feel well."

"you can still change minds, y'know." satoru mumbled, anxiously tapping his feet on the floor.

should you tell him? it was a chance, the only chance left before you and satoru have to separate ways. but as you recalled it, he mentioned that his supposed to be ex was 4 months pregnant and you were just on you were just on 12 weeks, equivalent to more or less than 2 months. it was her advantage.

"it'll be fine." you said as you sighed.

"you always say that."

"so, this is it?" you said as you stand across each other and satoru looked to his side and he was caught off guard when he felt you hold his hand, he took note of your cold hands.

you placed the wedding ring on his palms as you forced to close it.

"no." he said as he placed it back on you after removing his own ring. "i want you to keep it. for us." he said.

"okay." you said, turning around as you placed his ring and yours inside your bag.

"(name)." he called as you looked back. "i'm sorry i broke my promise, to have a happy family with you." he said and you wanted to tear up but you reminded yourself that it's not the right time to as you smiled at him.

"find me in another life then we can have a happy family there." you joked as both of you laughed.

is it normal to be like this with each other as if satoru hadn't just got his ex pregnant? as if both of you just haven't came out of the court after signing the divorce papers?

"i'll come and visit when i can." he said, and you hoped he would keep his words this time.

"okay."

"for the last time. i love you." you do too, but this time, you didn't say it back anymore.

"don't you think sanyu is a good name for our child?" satoru said as you look up at him.

"do you want to have one?"

"i'd love to have a happy family with you."

"is that so? but why sanyu?"

"sanyu means happiness. it means we are happy that we have him." he said as you chuckled in response.

"and how are you so sure that it would be a boy?"

"instincts."

his instincts was right. you had a son with him and you named him sanyu.

unfortunately, when sanyu turned a year of age, it was found that he had a very weak heart. there wasn't a day where you and your son doesn't visit a hospital. he was just a kid but they already wanted to take him away from you.

"mama." sanyu called. there were a lot of tubes that was connecting his body and it hurts to see your son suffer like this. you always hoped that it was you suffering instead of sanyu.

"yes?" you responded as you sat on the nearby chair.

"papa? where?" he curiously asked and your heart couldn't hurt more. you were lying to your child all this time, that his father was not around because of his job. you'll have to explain it to him when he grows up though.

you held sanyu's hand on yours as you softly caress it.

"papa's not here. he's very very busy!" you said as sanyu frowned. "don't worry, papa will see you soon, okay?"

"okay. love love mama, papa."

you bit your bottom lip as you stared at your contacts. your eyes switching from the phone to the surroundings as you slowly became anxious.

his contact was still in your emergency. you took a deep breath but in the end, you just couldn't dial his number, proceeding to call the person below his contact as you place the speaker close to your ear.

"hello?" you said as you heard a small gasp from the other side of the phone.

"hey, how are you? we haven't seen you since."

"i'm doing fine, thank you for asking, geto."

"what's the matter? why'd you call all of the sudden?"

"satoru." you said as you paused, gathering some courage left in you. "um, how is he?"

"well– he's doing good."

"he is, huh?" you mumbled. "can i ask you a favor, please?"

"of course. is it about satoru?"

"kind of?"

"alright, but satoru's a very busy man now, that's why it's gonna be hard to contact him these days."

oh.

"don't worry, it's not about that. can you– can you come here at the hospital? i'll send you the address and explain it to you later."

suguru arrived earlier than you expected it to.

"i'm sorry for calling out of the blue." you said as you approached him on the front desk.

"it's fine." suguru said as he shrugged. "why here at the hospital? are you sick?"

"i'm not. come, follow me." you said and suguru silently obliged as you finally stopped at a certain door. suguru noticed your discomfort as you slowly opened the door.

"mama!"

"hi baby. i brought someone." you said as you approached your son.

"what?" suguru mumbled in disbelief and he was left frozen on the door, his eyes widening. it was like a child version of satoru was infront of him.

"papa?" sanyu asked as he tilted his head to the side.

"i'm sorry, sanyu. i can only bring papa's friend." you said, your heart aching as your son frowned.

"sanyu?" suguru asked as he approached the two of you.

"i'm sanyu!" your son exclaimed and once again, suguru could only sigh in disbelief.

"how old is sanyu?" suguru asked when both of you left the room to grab a drink outside.

"he's 4 years old."

"does satoru know?"

"no."

"then tell him." easier said than done.

"you know i can't." you mumbled. "the favor–" you said as you faced suguru. "can you tell sanyu about his father? i just couldn't.." you mumbled as you played the can of the drink with your thumb.

"alright." suguru said and you smiled at him in return.

"thank you so much. it's just.. the doctors said he doesn't have enough time to–" you paused as you wiped your tears with your sleeves. "sorry for asking you this, geto. you are the closest to satoru, that's why."

"i understand, don't worry about it too much."

"i just couldn't tell satoru. i want sanyu to know what he wants to know. i couldn't tell him because i'm scared that i'll tear up once i mention his father to him. they said sanyu's running out of time.. i don't know– i'll just have to accept it nonetheless." suguru looked at you in pity as he embraced you.

"don't think about it, okay? sanyu will live and so satoru will know about it. i'll help you with it, 'kay?"

"okay, thank you.."

"you look like your papa."

"really?!" sanyu exclaimed happily as suguru hummed in response. "mama said papa is busy.."

"it's true, that's why i am here to tell you about your papa." sanyu looked at suguru hesitantly as he proceeded to ask a question.

"hmm.. is my papa good?" sanyu asked as suguru looked at you.

"he is. and he loves your mama so much."

"then why is he always busy?"

"sanyu." you called him, indicating to not ask those type of questions as he frowned.

and so sanyu asked a lot of things about his papa like what's his favorite color, favorite food, what he hates the most and many more, and you were thankful that suguru was there to answer it all when you couldn't.

"thank you, geto. i somehow feel at ease now."

"why don't you tell satoru about this?" suguru said as you started to zone out. should you? or should you not?

part of you believes that satoru has the right to know but part of you doubts it. satoru have a family now, a family without you. how would people think if they found out the owner of the famous company has a son from another woman?

you were once married to satoru, it was a mistake to let him take responsibility of his ex' pregnancy but, she was already at her 4 months of pregnancy while you're on your 12 weeks, she's clearly at the advantage.

"i'll try." you said as you embraced yourself for warmth.

"he's free around this time every thursdays." suguru said and you only nodded at his words.

satoru was on his way to his office and he thought he caught a glimpse of you and, he wasn't wrong, it was really you.

"(name)?" you were startled at the voice as you placed your phone behind you.

"gojo–"

"i hate it when you call me that. call me satoru." he said, frowning at you as you laughed nervously. "you look tired. what's–"

get straight to the point.

"are you busy?" you asked, cutting him off.

"well.." he placed his palm on his nape as he looked behind your shoulders.

"dad!" a voice called as a kid you haven't saw in your life appeared beside him. "what's taking you so long? mom's waiting."

"i'm sorry (name)."

"no, it's fine." you said, smiling at him and satoru knew better than anyone that your smile was forced.

"who's she, dad?" the kid asked. this must be satoru's child.

"an old friend, sanyu." satoru said as he looked at you and he wonders what made you look surprised. "go ahead first, i'll follow after you." he said as his son started to walk away.

"sanyu, huh?" you said as you looked behind his son's retreating figure.

"yeah. sorry about that." satoru said.

"why?"

"i don't know. but it was supposed to be our son's name."

"that's all in the past now." you didn't mean to sound harsh but something just hurts.

"right."

"i'll take my leave then." you said, every step you take makes your heart ache as an apology for you son slipped out of your mind.

"(name)." he called once again as you stopped in your tracks but you didn't face him.

"you were right when you said i'll thank you someday." he mumbled and you knew very well that he was smiling as you gulped the lump in your throat. "so thank you. i am the happiest father, ever. even if–" he paused and you didn't respond. it was like he was rubbing a salt in your wound as you heard him sigh. "see you then." he said as you felt his hand on your shoulder for a moment before his footsteps disappeared, and then you took your leave after, going back to your son, who was waiting for your arrival.

but, why was this happening to you? of all people?

"hold onto mama's hand, mhm?"

"mama, sorry."

"mama's sorry too, i promised that you'll see papa but–" sanyu shake his head, something like disagreeing to your apologies.

"it's okay, mama." sanyu mumbled, the sound of the monitor beeping slowing down as you hold onto his hand tight. this happened before already, he will get back to normal soon, you were sure.

"mama loves sanyu, papa too. always remember that, okay?"

"hey (name)!" suguru called from the distance as he approached you. "what are you doing outside? oh by the way, i was wondering if i can bring shoko too? she would be delighted to see a carbon copy of satoru." suguru chuckled but he noticed that you were quiet, your hand was between your thighs as you stare at the ground.

the door opening caught your attention as the doctor came out after what it seemed like a year as he slowly shake his head left to right.

"i'm sorry ms. (name) but your son didn't make it."

"but you said he'll be fine! i am paying enough why couldn't you–!"

"i'm very sorry. we already did what we can." you were about to start an argument when you felt a hand on your shoulders and the doctor bowed at you before leaving.

and it all came crashing down as your body lost its strength, unintentionally leaning on someone, which was suguru.

"what am i supposed to do now?" you asked, the emotions you've been keeping all this time was starting to go out, all at once. "sanyu's all i have." you didn't even care if people watch as they walk pass by. "what should i do now, satoru?" you mumbled, voice breaking as you call the name of the person that wasn't even around.

"my condolences, (name)." suguru had managed to calm you down as he handed you a bottled water and sat beside you.

"i've decided to cremate sanyu. it hurts but it'll be for the best so.. so i could keep him near me." you said.

"i'll support your decision but i think you should tell satoru about it."

"no." you said, your tone was strict but it was quick to dissipate as you clutched the bottle in your hand. "i went to his workplace yesterday."

"what happened?" suguru asked.

"his son's name is sanyu too. i'm guessing you know it?" you asked as his breath hitched silenty.

"yeah." he mumbled.

"well, it was the name he wanted when we were still planning." you mumbled as you smiled at the memory. "geto, i trust you not to tell anyone about this. it's just you and me who know this, okay?"

"i'm sorry but–" suguru paused. "i told shoko about it." you were surprised at first as you sighed at him.

"it's fine. i trust shoko too."

"yeah, sorry about that but– i was really hoping that you tell satoru about it because–"

"there's no need. thank you for telling my child everything he wanted to know, geto. i owe you."

"listen–"

"geto, as much as i am thankful for you, please understand that i don't want to hear things regarding satoru anymore." you said as suguru nods in response, feeling bad for pushing you when your still mourning for your lost and now that you had lost your only strength to continue living, what should you do now?

#nana.gumi #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk angst #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru angst #gojo angst #satoru angst #satoru x reader

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seelestars · 8 months ago

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caught wearing their clothes ?! (argenti, aventurine, sunday)

a/n : isn’t it kinda funny all 3 of them have boss forms? (´-ω-`) we don’t talk abt the way argentis part is the shortest </3

argenti

it was a nice afternoon, perfect for going out with loved ones. though, even with such lovely weather, you felt bored to death waiting for argenti. so naturally, you would search for ways to cure your boredom while waiting for argenti’s return.

that’s how you got yourself in your current situation—getting caught wearing a spare set of argenti’s usual armor as he returned.

“you look absolutely stunning in my outfit, dearest.” his soft voice startled you, causing you to freeze and immediately turn towards him. your face was practically the color of his hair, as you had never meant for him to see you like this.

“a-argenti! back so early?” you let out a nervous laugh, averting your gaze out of the embarrassment you were feeling.

“is something the matter, dearest? why so nervous? afraid I might scold you for wearing my clothes?” your embarrassment and nervousness seems to elicit a hearty chuckle out of him as he takes a few steps closer to you, extending a rose towards you. “if it’s that you’re worried about—then fear not—as I believe your beauty could rival even the goddess idrila no matter what you wear.” argenti smiles as he softly reassured you.

his words only served to make you flush further, his flattering compliments making your heart race faster. “…you really think so?” originally, you were quite worried about what he’d think if he saw you in this state. but with such kind demeanor and reassurance, how could anyone resist having an ego boost?

“of course, there is no need for me to lie to you.” argenti’s smile widens as he decides to insert the rose behind your ear. “though, I do believe the attire I would love seeing you in the most is attire fit for our wedding one day.”

aventurine

this was your lucky moment! aventurine was currently out attending an ipc meeting, which meant you were left all alone. being left alone gave you many opportunities—specifically an opportunity to borrow his spare clothes and have some fun with it.

as you looked yourself over in the mirror, you had to admit you looked nice in aventurine’s usual clothes. you even chose to take a pair of his glasses and one of his hats to fully immerse yourself in the experience! his outfit was quite flamboyant and was definitely flashy, usually catching the attention of many.

wearing his outfit made some mischievous ideas slowly start to come to life as you made the choice of mocking him in his clothes.

“I always win in my gambles, so naturally I’ll bet my entire bank account! i’m just a stupid, careless, mindless gambler—“ suddenly, you were cut off by the sound of the door opening as aventurine stands there in the doorway, arms crossed with an amused smirk on his lips as he leans against the doorframe.

“hmm… so this is how you choose to kill time while i’m away, huh?” aventurine laughs as he approaches you, observing the way you looked in his clothes. “i have to say, you look quite good like this. I’m surprised you’re bold enough to rock a little window like me, though~” he narrows his eyes, glancing at you playfully as his words made your cheeks flush.

“even your little impression of me was fun to witness. but, it says a lot about you as a person, doesn’t it? if I’m a stupid, careless, mindless gambler, then what does that make you for being attracted to me?” aventurine teases, making your jaw drop as you find yourself scrambling for a response.

“don’t get ahead of yourself now. i’m certainly not attracted to you.” you retort, despite the fact that the both of you knew very well that your words were a blatant lie.

“oho? is that how it is? then let’s see just how much you’re ‘not attracted to me’ once I start doing this…” aventurine’s chuckle sends a shiver down your spine as he begins to lean closer to your lips, his hand making its way down to your hips.

sunday

you had some time before sunday arrived home, and coincidentally, you spotted spare pairs of sunday’s usual attire as you were searching for something to occupy yourself with.

unfortunately, you weren’t a halovian like sunday. so after you had finished putting on his clothes, you had to find a way to improvise when it came to his wings and halo. messily, you began to draw outlines for his wings and halo on some paper. you then colored them in, planning to cut them out and find a way to use them.

just as you were about to tape the paper wings behind your ears, you heard sunday’s voice as he stepped into the house.

you tried to clean everything up and change, but it was too late. you had already been caught.

“ah? is this what I think it is? is the love of my life trying to impersonate me?” sunday jokes light-heartedly, his pleasant laugh filling your ears as you look away shyly. “you even went so far as to make a fake pair of wings and halo… you’re very dedicated if I do say so myself.” he smiles softly as he takes a few steps closer to you, humming as he admired you.

“this was a dumb idea… you’re still the one that looks the best when wearing these clothes.” you laugh awkwardly, a sheepish look in your eyes as he admires you. his attention being completely directed on you at a moment like this seemed to be the most embarrassing possible timing.

“no need to be so embarrassed about all of this, my love. I don’t mind this at all.” sunday shakes his head, hoping his words will reassure you as he lightly pats your head. “in fact, I’d say you look just about ready to replace me as the head of the oak family.” he lets out an amused chuckle at the idea, his mind already painting an image of you leading the family like he currently did.

“then… what would I be missing?” a sigh of relief escapes you at his reassurance before you decided to reply with a more light-hearted tone.

“firstly, you’ll need to learn the proper etiquette, my love. mm.. but I suspect with someone as capable as you, it won’t be hard teaching you how to replace me.” sunday gazes at you with a look filled with fondness. “but at the end of the day, I like you best when you’re being yourself. so there is no need to delve into topics that involve becoming like me or someone else.”

#hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #aventurine x reader #sunday x reader #argenti x reader

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akamitrani · 16 days ago

Note

omg i just read your dht fanfic and it was so good!! if your taking requests could i request that reader is married to david and she was with him on the set if terrifier (2024) and reader asks him to make love to her with his Art costume still on? Thanks!’ (sorry if this makes no sense lmao)

— The After-Hours Act —

David Howard Thornton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, established relationship, costume kink, roleplay (?), kissing, pining, choking, rough sex, public sex (well, kind of).

Summary: It's late at night, filming is practically done. Your husband, David, gives his final performance of the day.

[A/N: Omg hi, yes I accept requests! Thank you so much for liking my last fic 🤍 Hope you enjoy this one too, it's my first time doing smut. I absolutely loved the idea and probably had way too much fun with it lol.]

The set was alive with chaos. Flickering lights casting long, jagged shadows against the cracked walls, making the abandoned warehouse look even more sinister. Fake blood is pooled on the concrete floor and the air is thick with the smell of sweat, latex and the metallic tang of stage blood.

In the middle of it all stood David, fully transformed into the unnervingly silent and grotesque Art the Clown. His smile stretched wide under the white mask, black lips curling into a grimace that was equal parts amusing and horrifying.

You watched from the shadows just beyond the set, your eyes never leaving him. David had always been able to command a room and, as Art the Clown, he held a power that drew you in no matter how many times you had seen him in character.

The director yelled “Let's wrap it up!” and the tense energy of the set dissipated like smoke. David instantly broke character, his terrifying expression melting into his usual boyish grin as he exchanged a few words with the crew. His eyes flicked over to you and he gave you a subtle wink.

Your heart skipped a beat as he made his way toward you, still in full costume. The other crew members busied themselves with cleanup, leaving you and David in a pocket of relative privacy.

“Enjoy the show?” – he teased, voice low and familiar despite the eerie costume.

You couldn’t help but smile, mix of nerves and excitement – “You were terrifying, as always. But...” – you replied, eyes lingering on the smeared makeup around his lips – “I have a little request tonight”

David’s brow quirked in curiosity, he stayed silent, slipping back into Art’s mute persona for a moment. You took a deep breath, stepping closer so only he could hear your words...

“Can you stay in costume... For a little playtime, with me?” you whispered getting closer to him, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

For a split second you saw a flicker of surprise in his eyes, it was quickly replaced by a mischievous glimmer... He understood the idea. He nodded slowly, slipping fully back into character, his smile turning wickedly playful. Stepping back, he walked towards the door of the warehouse, locking it.

You felt a thrill shoot down your spine, you were completely alone with him now – No crew, no distractions. He moved closer to you, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator toying with its prey. The game had begun.

David – or rather, Art – stopped just inches away, tilting his head in that unnerving, silent way.

“Are you sure about this?” – he whispered, the question hanging in the air like a dare. You could see it in his eyes, he was more than ready to play along. You wanted to see just how far he would take it, how much you could handle... You nodded.

Without warning, he lunges forwards, pining you against a cold concrete wall. A gasp escapes your lips as his gloved hand wrapped around your throat, not tight enough to hurt but enough to send a wave of adrenaline through your body.

The pressure of his hand on your throat sends waves of heat between your legs, your breath coming out in short gasps. He leaned in closer, his painted lips brushing your ear, he remained silent, true to Art's unsettling nature.

You whimpered softly, feeling the undeniable desire. David's grin widened and he pushed you harder against the wall, his free hand slipping to your waist, pulling you closer. You could feel his growing bulge against your thigh, his gloves rough against your skin. His eyes bored into yours demanding submission.

You gave in willingly, letting him take control over you. The grip on your throat tightened just slightly, enough to make you even more wet.

“David...” – You breathed his name. A futile attempt to break the spell of Art's menacing silence.

But he wasn't ready to break character yet. Instead, he released his hold on your throat and captured your lips in a messy kiss, taste of makeup and sweat mixing between you two.

He pulled back, just enough to look at you. For a moment you thought he might speak, but instead he let out that eerie silent laugh, his shoulders shaking as he looked at you with a mocking expression.

“You really are good at this...” – You said, voice husky with arousal and fear.

He flashed that terrifying grin again and in a heartbeat lifted you up in his arms. You look at him with a surprised look as he carries you to the prop bed in the set and carefully throws you in it. He hovers on top of you, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to him. This time you completely feel his hard cock pressing against your thigh, making you moan – “Hmm yes...”

David's hands start to wander around your body, you're completely under him, completely at his mercy. His fingers slid under your dress pushing it up, revealing your black lacy set of lingerie. He pulled back and paused for a moment, he had an idea, suddenly getting out of bed – you look at him confused.

"David? What happened?" – You asked, afraid you did something wrong. He doesn't speak, instead he silently laughs gesturing for you to wait with an excited expression.

You watch him happily reach for Art's infamous black trash bag that was in a corner, open it dramatically and start looking for something inside of it. You were about to say something, but before you could do that he threw the bag away, in his hand is a black knife with fake blood still on it. He smiles devilishly pointing to the knife... then you. You freeze, feeling genuine horror with his actions now.

David senses your growing tension and gestures with both hands as what can be understood as 'relax, I'm not going to hurt you... probably'. What an imp. He starts crawling on top of the bed towards you with a hungry look, reaching your legs. He signals for you to open them and you gladly do so, without asking questions. He pauses for a moment as if savoring the situation, the position you're in – He gives you his trademark creepy smirk.

He reaches for your panties, his finger lifted one of the side edges and in a swift motion he uses the knife to slash it, removing it and revealing your throbbing cunt – now on full display for him. You inhale sharply, the cold air making you shiver. He throws away the knife and your undies somewhere around the set.

He pulls you towards him roughly, demanding, pushing your legs more far apart. You notice his bulge is very prominent now, poking through his clown costume. David hovers above you, one hand beside your head and the other ghostly stroking your sensitive bud making you moan. You don't want to wait, can't handle teasing now – you shift slightly as a form of protest.

“Fuck me now” – You breathlessly groan

He stopped in his tracks and looked you dead in the face, up until now he has been real soft with you, taking things slowly... But if you're such a needy bitch with no patience then he will give you exactly what you want.

David pulls back slightly and gathers your legs in front of him, pushing you to the side forcing you to change positions. Your back now is exposed to him, your ass completely tilted up, he uses his knee to once more spread your legs. You tried to look back at him but he shoved your head down in the bed and unspokenly demanded you to stay this way. Not wanting to defy him again you accept his command.

You stayed like this for a few seconds wondering why nothing has happened, you couldn't help but listen to your surroundings, especially behind you – focusing on any sound, any clue to what will happen. Unbeknownst to you, your husband – Art, at the moment – was dazed at the sight before him. Pussy swollen with desire and wetness threatening to drip down your groin, enough to make his dick beg to be released.

A sudden sharp noise of tearing cloth invaded your ears, making you jump a little bit. You were scared to look back but your curiosity was louder at the moment and you couldn't help but slightly glance to the source of the sound. David had torn his clown suit to free his dick, now holding his fully erect member in his hand leaking in precum, pumping it a few times.

He caught you looking and in a futile attempt you tried to avert your gaze, too late now. He smiled wickedly and as punishment, he gave you an unexpected ruthless slap to your butt, making you hiss in both shock and pleasure. The stinging sensation only adding to your burning heat. He continued – two, three, four, five slaps – smacking until you were moaning for the pain, for him.

“Mmm-aah fuck” – you moaned – “fuck me, just fuc-”

Your phrase cut short when he entered your pussy, shoving his dick deep inside you then completely out in a excruciatingly slow speed. He was taunting you, giving you what you wanted but not in the way intended to.

“Mmmm Dave, please ah- please...” – You cried out. You could feel the clown smirking behind you.

David started picking up speed, pounding hard, grabbing your waist for stability. There will definitely be some purple digits engraved there tomorrow.

You can hear his ragged breath and occasional whimpers, you're surprised he could maintain Art's silent persona this far. David is usually quite vocal, he enjoys praising you during sex. The difference is noticeable, you're still unsure about it... On the other hand, his much more dominant demeanor when portraying Art makes up for it.

He takes his dick out and flips you on your back to face him again, he takes your legs and puts them on his shoulder. He promptly aligned his shaft with your entrance again, staring directly at you. David's half-lidded blue eyes peaking through the white mask, black lips slightly open indicating breathlessness. Pounding you, he pushed your bra out of the way, he loved the erotic sight of your tits bouncing just for him.

His cock deliciously hit your sweet spot with expertise – he just knows how to make you feel good – feeling the climax build up more and more on your stomach on each thrust he gives, you're almost there.

He leans in closer to you, one of his hands grabs your throat while the other stays at your waist, pining you completely onto the bed. He's choking you mercilessly, cutting your oxygen this time.

David picks up his speed really fast, making the prop bed creak loudly, the sound of rough slapping skin filling the set – Your orgasm threatening to crash down. The stimulation is overwhelming and you can't hold it anymore.

His dick hits hard and deep in your pussy – you deliciously cum, your juices spilling all over his shaft. He nods maniacally feeling your tightening warm cunt around his cock, it was all that he needed to reach his peak – closing his eyes and throwing his head back, he ejaculates inside you with one final thrust. He releases the hold on your neck allowing you to gasp for air.

You see his face contorting and you think he might break character now. Instead he opened his eyes and smiled at you while clapping his hands cheerfully. The way he stayed silent, embodying Art’s menacing playfulness, drove you to the edge.

He removes himself from you, sweating, panting. You suddenly feel the exhaustion and so does he – literally plopping himself on the bed, by your side.

“I love you so much, you know that?” – he finally spoke after some minutes, the real David finally breaking through.

It was such a relief to hear his voice again – “I love you too... Even when you're being a complete psycho” – you teased, still breathless.

David laughed, genuinely – “I hope I wasn't too rough” – he said, pressing his forehead against yours, his arms wrapping around your waist in a comforting embrace.

“Maybe a little” – you admitted, resting your hands against his chest – “But I like it when you surprise me”

David smiled, leaning in to kiss the top of your head, filled with all the tenderness you knew him for. It was just the two of you, sharing a quiet moment.

“Thank you” – he murmured – “For loving all sides of me... Even the creepy ones”

You laughed softly, running your fingers through his chest – “I wouldn’t have it any other way”

You knew this was a moment you’d cherish – a memory of the man you loved, both the sweet husband and domineering clown... And tonight, you have experienced both.

“Alright, alright. I think we've given Art enough playtime for one night.” - he murmured, gently caressing your back. He kissed you one last time before preparing to get out of bed.

“I think I'll have to buy another clown costume” – he joked, pointing at his groin area, where he had ripped the fabric.

“And new panties for me, ruined my favorite one” – you added with a fake pout pointing at the long gone undies, currently at the floor. (rip undies)

“Yeah, sorry about that... I- I don't know what I was doing honestly” – he said looking down

“No, no. None of that. I loved everything. All of it.” – You quickly replied, forcing him to look at you. You could swear you saw a faint blush creeping up his cheeks.

“C'mon, let's get out of here” – He said sweetly, slipping his hand into yours – “We've had enough fun for one night”

Some minutes later as you both walked out of the darkened set hand in hand, you realized what you had just experienced was a moment you'd never forget. Fear, love and desire collided in the most thrilling way.

#david howard thornton #art the clown #david howard thornton x reader #art the clown x reader #david howard thornton imagine #terrifier 3 #terrifier 2 #terrifier #david howard thornton smut #art the clown smut #thank you to my man #on my knees for him

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kaiser1ns · 4 months ago

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#. FALLIN' FOR YA

featuring 𝘄𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 ıllı. togame jo, takiishi chika, umemiya hajime, endo yamato, sakura haruka, kaji ren

fluff. to say you have fallen in love is one thing, but to fall for him was something you didn't expect.

TOGAME JO

You found yourself on the rooftop of Ori, the headquarters of the Shishitoren gang, high above the ground, your heart racing as you glanced down. You had no idea how you ended up here or what possessed you to climb this high, but now you were stuck, paralyzed by fear.

"Baby, I am scared," your voice trembled as you looked down at Togame who had come to your rescue. It wasn't that high — you'd seen the way Choji jumped like a monkey, scaling the building in seconds. But you were neither Choji nor a monkey.

Your boyfriend stood below, his beautiful green eyes reflected calmness. A lazy smile played on his lips as he held out his arms. "Angel, just jump. I will catch you."

"That's even more scary. We will both get hurt," you protested, your heart pounding in your chest. He looked up at you, his smile never wavering. "Come on now, nothing bad can happen."

"Jo, do you understand that I can literally break mine and your bones?" you said, stepping back from the edge, taking a deep breath to steady yourself.

"The only thing you will break is my heart if you decide to stay there any longer," he said softly. You let out a big sigh, taking a few more deep breaths before finally deciding to overcome your fear. "Alright... On three."

He began to count for you, "One... two... three!"

With your eyes squeezed shut, you jumped from the rooftop, bracing for the impact. But instead of hitting the hard ground, you felt his strong arms catch you, pulling you into a tight embrace.

"Angel, did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?" he whispered into your ear, a playful lilt in his voice.

You were on the verge of tears from the fear and stress of the situation, and here he was, flirting with you. "I should have stayed there," you replied, burying your face in his shoulder, half relieved and half annoyed.

TAKIISHI CHIKA

You had never thought you'd develop feelings for Takiishi Chika. Yet, here you were, inexplicably drawn to the red-headed boy who had somehow let you inside his usually closed comfort zone. One day, you found yourself asking him to teach you some defensive techniques. Just in case, you told him, you ended up alone without him in sight, which will never happen.

"So I clench my fist like this and then I—" you began, mimicking his earlier demonstration.

Elbow strikes could be thrown sideways like a hook, upwards like an uppercut, downwards with the point of the elbow, diagonally, or directly, even during a jump. As you tried to attack him, he easily stopped you, his hand catching yours, of course he will stop you he is the strongest after all.

"Don't tighten your muscles so much, and don't squat like that," he instructed, his voice calm yet firm, you loved listening to him on the rare moments he decided to speak.

You nodded, resetting your stance. Determined to impress him, you moved faster this time, but your foot caught on nothing, and you started to fall. Before you could hit the ground, his hands catched your wrists, steadying you as your body leaned closer.

Your eyes locked, his gaze made your heart race, and you were sure you were going to kiss at any second. You had fallen for him, deeply, and there was no turning back. But then, he let go, and you landed on your butt with a thud.

"Ow," you muttered, rubbing the sore spot. "What was that for, Chika?"

When you looked up, he was already walking away, his back to you. First he makes you fall for him and then making you chase after him — a typical game of cat and mouse.

You scrambled to your feet, quickly closing the distance between you. As you caught up, he glanced at you with a sidelong look, letting out a sigh. Despite his cold behaviour, you didn't miss the way his hand found its place on your waist, holding you close. You may have fallen for him, but he fell harder for you ... but you didn't hear it from me, alright?

UMEMIYA HAJIME

You have always been close to the members of Bofurin, especially with their leader, with whom you had a strange relationship, you were together but at the same time you were not. Nothing was official, but everything was real — from holding hands to kissing eachother. Right now you are not trying to think about it as you help the first years paint. Perched on a mini staircase, you meticulously worked on the higher parts, lost in the rhythm of the brush strokes.

"You are doing so well, Y/N-chan!" A familiar voice interrupted your thoughts. You didn't need to turn around to know who it was; that voice was unmistakable.

"Hajime, you scared me!" you exclaimed, your heart fluttering, as he laughed at you.

"Oh, did I? I am sorry," he said, his tone teasing. You rolled your eyes at him playfully as he crossed his arms and watched you work, a smile adoring his beautiful and gentle face.

Turning around, you noticed that it had fallen unusually silent. The first years were nowhere to be seen. Confused, you asked, "Where is everyone?"

"I made them go to Kotoha to get lunch. You can't work while hungry," he explained, his eyes soft with concern. He always cared about others and that was one of the things you liked about him.

Shaking your head with a smile, you returned to your painting, stretching to reach the higher spots. Suddenly, the staircase wobbled beneath you, and you lost your balance, but before you could fall, strong arms caught you.

"My little shooting star~ I guess my wish came true," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. Your cheeks flamed with embarrassment as you buried your face in his chest, the scent of him filling your senses. "What wish?" you wondered and asked him looking into his eyes, those beautiful blue eyes you could drown in as if you were in the ocean.

"The one where you finally fall for me!" you didn't know if he was joking or not, but even with that playful tone, he was completely serious.

"Is this how we are making it official?" you mumbled, your voice muffled by his shirt.

"I guess it is," he replied softly, his arms tightening around you. Here, in his embrace, was where you belonged, as you have fallen in the right place at the right time.

ENDO YAMATO

You stumble slightly as you walk, your heels clicking against the pavement as you walked hand in hand with Endo, his grip was reassuring somehow distracting you, yet you couldn't help but hiss from the pain in your feet. Those heels were a mistake, but they were the perfect finishing touch to your outfit. You curse yourself for choosing fashion over comfort, wanting everything to be perfect tonight.

"You okay there?" Endo asked, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. His voice was filled with genuine concern, sometimes it surprised you how much he cares for you, even for the smallest things.

"Yeah, nothing to worry about. It's fine," you replied, trying to mask the discomfort. He glanced at you with those thoughtful eyes that always seemed to be searching for something. "Y/N, I may be a very bad judge of character, but I know when a person experiences pain." His words were more of a hint than a statement, and you knew he was right.

You stopped walking, intending to turn to him and reassure him face to face. But as you twisted your body, your ankle gave away. You felt yourself tipping forward, bracing for the impact of the fall.

But it never came. Endo caught you, his tattooed arms strong and steady around you. "Careful, doll. Don't fall so soon for me," he teased, the mischievousness never leaving his eyes.

Your heart raced, not just from the near fall, but from the way he held you, the way you could melt right on the spot. You had always been unpredictable around him, your feelings a whirlwind that neither of you fully understood.

"Yamato," you whispered, looking up at him. His carefree personality masked a complexity you were only beginning to uncover. He made you feel loved despite him not knowing how to identify his own emotions.

"What's wrong?" he asked softly, his eyes searching yours as he wondered how you do the things you do? Why do you make him feel... like this? He had hard time recognising what's happening inside his brain and heart. He never understood the emotions people around him expressed because he thought it just was how he was meant to live — like a lifeless soul.

You smiled, your heart swelling a bit uncertainty, but there was nothing to lose this time. "I like you." you admitted.

He blinked, processing your words as if you were speaking gibberish. "You... really do?" he asked, the surprise in his eyes was genuine, and for a moment, you wondered if you had made a mistake.

"If I didn't liked you, I wouldn't have gone on so many dates with you," you repeated, more confidently this time. "I didn't mean to make things awkward, but I couldn't keep it to myself any longer."

His grip on your waist tightened slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. "You’re serious?" You nodded, your heart was about to burst out, "Yes, I am. I know you might not feel the same way, because dating isn't your thing. I just... needed you to know."

Endo's gaze softened, and the playfulness in his eyes was replaced by something deeper, something you had never seen before coming from him.

"Y/N, you have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that," he admitted, his voice raw with emotion. "You’ve been driving me crazy, in the best possible way."

A smile spread across your face, the pain in your feet forgotten. "Glad to know that." He chuckled, "But I can’t have you walking around in pain all night," he said, glancing down at your heels. "Here, let me help."

You looked at him, puzzled. "What do you mean?" Without another word, Endo crouched down in front of you, patting his back. "Hop on. I’ll give you a piggyback ride. Princesses should be taken care of."

SAKURA HARUKA

It was Tsubaki idea to invite you, Kotoha and the first years to the biggest sleepover in the history of Bofurin. He treasured you like a little sister, and took a liking in the new students especially Sakura — the boy who proved himself worthy for the gang, and the boy despite his confidence in most situations had a peculiar inability to speak or act normally around you.

The night’s activities progressed, and soon everyone found themselves engaged in a lively game of Twister. One by one, players stumbled and fell, until only you and Sakura were left on the mat. Nirei spun the wheel and called out, "Left hand on red," signaling Sakura’s turn. He gulped hard, his eyes widening slightly as he realized the predicament. You were directly beneath him, your bodies precariously close. Sakura carefully stretched his left hand towards the red circle as your hand was on the blue one, his fingers brushing yours as he did so.

The atmosphere grew tense, heat radiating from both of you as sweat glistened on his brow. His face flushed with a rosy hue, betraying his nerves and the overwhelming proximity. Meanwhile, Suo watched the unfolding scene with delight, clearly enjoying the awkward dance of two fools in love.

Nirei spun the wheel again, as he announced, "Y/N-chan, left hand on green." You felt your muscles strain, you were in a push-up position and you had to turn your whole body to reach the green circle. Every fiber in your hands screamed with effort as you managed the turn, finding yourself directly under Sakura.

The eye-patched boy, ever the prankster, seized the moment and nudged Sakura’s leg just enough to cause a slight wobble. The sudden movement startled you, and before you could steady yourself, your hands slipped. The world seemed to slow as you fell, leaving you face to face with Sakura, who had caught himself just in time.

You found yourself caged between his arms, his face mere inches from yours. His breath hitched, his cheeks a deep crimson that seemed almost like a new shade to add in the red pallet. The warmth of his body radiated into yours, his bicoloured eyes locked onto yours — panic and longing swirling within them. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out, only the soft sound of his breath mingling with yours.

Sakura wanted to kiss you, wanted to know what's it like to kiss the girl he held feelings for ... He wanted you and was not going to be a coward about it. Just as he decided to bend down even less the door opened and Tsubaki's voice echoed around the room causing him to startle and lose his balance falling on top of you.

"Oh, my! I am sorry, did I interrupt something?" Tsubaki asked, genuinely concerned about the two of you, putting his hand on his mouth from the surprised scene he stepped into.

Sakura's eyes widened in panic, but you could feel the warmth of his body pressed against yours, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. Why couldn't he talk? His gaze, now tender and earnest, silently begged for understanding and perhaps a second chance, and pretty soon he will be able to express his feelings without a Twister next time.

KAJI REN

You were angry, extremely pissed to the point you just want to scream, throw something or someone in the pool, kill the next person who asks you another stupid question. Your nails dug into the flesh of your palms as you tried your best to stay calm. The one time you got Kaji to agree to go somewhere, some girls immediately flocked to him, even though he ignored them or politely said no.

You watched as he spoke to them, with their polite smiles, but there was nothing nice about them, only fueling your irritation. It wasn’t fair. This was supposed to be your time with him. You took a deep breath, trying to rationalize your thoughts. It wasn't his fault, after all, but it didn't make the sting any less sharp.

"Y/N," Kaji's voice pulled you from your thoughts. He had walked away from the crowd of girls and was now standing in front of you, his expression concerned, he's never seen you like this. "Are you okay?"

"Am I okay?" you repeated, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Do you think I'm okay, Kaji?"

He blinked, taken aback by your tone, as he was getting annoyed by the fact that you weren't telling him everything in the right context, "What’s wrong?"

"What's wrong?" you echoed mimicking his words, feeling your temper rise. "Do you really have to ask? Look around! Every time we go somewhere, you’re swarmed by girls. Can’t you see how frustrating that is?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, and you looking at his well-shaped body. "You think I wanted that? Stop with this bullsh—"

Your frustration boiled over. Without thinking, you gave him a hard shove, sending him stumbling backwards. Before you could register what happened, he reached out, grabbing your wrist to steady himself. But it carried you both, and with a splash, you were both in the pool.

The water engulfed you, the coolness a shock to your heated skin. You struggled, disoriented, trying to find the surface. Panic set in as you realized you weren’t as good a swimmer as you thought. Just when you felt you couldn’t hold your breath any longer, strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you up.

You broke the surface, gasping for air, coughing and spluttering. Kaji held you close, his eyes wide with worry. "Breathe, Y/N, just breathe."

You clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you tried to steady your breathing. He patted your back gently, his other hand cradling your head.

"You're so stupid," he murmured, though his tone was soft, almost affectionate. "Why would you do that?"

Your cheeks burned, both from embarrassment and from the closeness, as you realised how you are skin to skin. "I... I wasn’t thinking. I just... I was so mad."

You looked up at him, his eyes were judging you but it was out of concern, "I'm sorry," you whispered. "Listen, Y/N," he began, "Those girls don't matter to me. They never have and never will." He shook his head, his fingers brushing a wet strand of hair from your face, and you knew he meant it, otherwise you would have had fallen for him or in this case with him.

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midnightwriter21 · 1 year ago

Text

demon slayer hcs: motherly hashira!reader x the hashira pt 2

characters: fem!reader x muichiro, sanemi, mitsuri, obanai

AN: this is a pt 2 for the request from @danielle-marie

READ THE FIRST PART HERE

MUICHIRO

I LOVE THIS BABY SM U DONT UNDERSTAND

he's the hashira that ur most comfortable around

he was a hashira before u

but u get promoted and its an instinct

child.

must protect.

at first he probably gets annoyed by you

he's not used to someone caring for him the way that u do

but then one day ur sent on a long mission

maybe a few weeks long

and he finds himself missing something

of course he has no idea what it is that he's missing something

he completely forgot about u

but when you get back to the butterfly estate and he sees u

it clicks

he remembers

he missed you

he missed your overprotective nature

he missed your soft caring voice

he missed the way that you brush and style his hair

he REALLY missed that ^

walks up to u, grabs ur hand and tugs u away

doesn't care if you were talking to someone

and doesn't say a word

brings you to his favorite cloud watching spot with a tight grip on your hand

makes you sit down

and lays his head in ur lap

stop im squealing and kicking my feet from the cuteness

SANEMI

my guyyyyyy

have i ever told yall that i love him?

only in every single thing i post

anyways

he HATES you at first

lmfao rip u

your shy and quiet nature reminds him of giyuu

and if theres one person sanemi can't stand

its giyuu

therefore he don't fw u

and doesn't pay u much attention

UNTILLLLL

he witnesses u pulling genya by the ear to the infirmary after a mission

and telling genya tf off for pulling som stupid shit during the mission

+100 respect right there

not only are u actually talking

but ur screaming??

at his brother??

and taking care of him at the same time?????

my guy is lucky if he doesn't pop a boner right there lmfaooo

starts paying more attention to u after that

and is noticeably a lot nicer and calmer around you

will blush beet red and deny tf out of it if the other hashira comment abt his change of heart

but def develops a soft spot for u

MITSURI

SWEETEST HUMAN BEING TO EVER EXIST EVER

she loves u

ofc she does she's the love hashira

but in mitsuri's mind how could she not absolutely ADORE u

not only are you breathtakingly beautiful in her eyes

but she sees the way u interact with the younger slayers

how u genuinely care for everyone's wellbeing

if she wasn't looking for a husband she would wife u tf UP

she still might lol

mitsuri is gonna go out of her way to become friends with you

she's inviting u to her estate for girl's night with shinobu

she's dragging u along to her favorite restaurant for lunch

she's inviting u to join her at the hot springs to relax

she really enjoys ur presence

even if ur shy she thinks ur very soothing to be around

she loves when you do her hair!!

and when u cook for her??

mitsuri alrdy eats a lot

but if u made the food for her??

girl is not letting a CRUMB go to waste

loves the way u take care of everyone

especially when u take care of her

10/10 would recommend a mitsuri

OBANAI

someone pls love this man

he needs it so bad

so dude had SHIT parents

like bad bad

so when he sees ur interactions with the younger slayers he's prob a lil put off at first

like ma'am?

this is the demon slayer corps??

we don't have time for all ur mothering and coddling

but then he's injured on a mission

and waiting in the infirmary for shinobu to show up and patch him up

and then u bust through the doors???

confused asf

shinobu is on a mission and you've been helping out in the infirmary

so looks like ur the one taking care of him today

and turns out his injury is bad enough to land him an extended stay in his lil hospital bed

and after a few days of u taking care of him

with ur red face and soft stuttered words

he learns that you're not so bad

and he actually enjoys being around you

and being taken care of

won't voice this tho

but when Aoi comes in to give him his meds one day he gives himself away by accident

with a

"where's y/n?"

he's a blushing grumbling mess after that lol

after he discharged best believe the next time he gets injured he's not even going to the infirmary

he's hunting u tf down

nobody else gets to take care of him except YOU

and thats period.

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syluslnd · 2 months ago

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Sssooo... thinking of Stalker Sylus the first time he gets to catch MC masturbating...

Stalker sylus catching you masturbating

You had no idea you were being watched, none at all. The apartment was supposed to be your safe space, where no one could see you in your most vulnerable moments. But Sylus had been watching for weeks now, his eyes always on you, tracking every move you made, every sigh, every flutter of your lashes.

Sylus had always thought you were pure, an innocent creature who stirred something primal in him. He'd set up the cameras around your home, hidden in the shadows of your bookshelves, the corners of your ceiling. He was never far, always lurking, always observing.

Tonight, though, was different. You had no idea what you were doing to him. The way your hand slipped beneath the sheets, your breath catching in the quiet of your bedroom. Sylus leaned forward in his dark office, eyes glued to the monitor. He couldn't look away, couldn't believe what he was seeing. His innocent little kitten, no longer as innocent as he thought.

The way you whimpered softly, biting your lip, your cheeks flushed—he watched with a dark satisfaction growing inside him, feeling a surge of possessiveness like never before.

His fingers hovered over his phone, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

“Sweetie” he typed, the word dripping with that familiar teasing energy. “You know l've been watching, right?”

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, startling you. You grabbed it, heart pounding as you read the message. A cold shiver ran down your spine. He knows?

Before you could even react, another message came through. “I'm on my way to you. Don't move.”

Your heart raced as you stared at the screen, a mixture of fear and excitement building inside you. You looked around your empty room, the dim lighting suddenly feeling oppressive, like the walls were closing in on you. You knew he had his darker side-Sylus was dangerous, a man not to be crossed.

But he also had a soft spot for you. His obsession with you had always been more protective than harmful.

What had you gotten yourself into?

A knock sounded at your door mere minutes later, though you hadn't heard any footsteps.

Sylus was always swift, always silent. You hesitated, but the door creaked open before you could even reach it.

And there he was, leaning casually in the doorway, his dark suit clinging to every muscle, his eyes gleaming with amusement.

He closed the door behind him with a soft click, locking it, his lips curling into that maddening smirk.

"Well, well” he drawled, his voice low and dripping with amusement "I didn't know my little kitten had such a dirty side. How long have you been hiding that from me, sweetie?"

Your breath hitched as Sylus stalked toward you, his eyes never leaving yours. You felt your pulse quicken, the heat rising in your cheeks as he got closer, the intensity in his gaze sending a thrill through you. He stopped just inches away, his presence overwhelming, the air around him electric.

"You weren't supposed to see that" you managed to whisper, your voice barely audible.

He chuckled softly, tilting your chin up with one finger so that you were forced to meet his gaze. "Oh, but I did. And I have to say, kitten, I'm not disappointed." His voice was a low purr, dripping with that familiar, teasing tone. "I always thought you were innocent, but it seems l've been missing out."

His eyes darkened as he leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Tell me, sweetie" he whispered, his breath warm against your skin "were you thinking about me?"

The question sent a jolt of panic through you but there was no denying the effect his voice had on you. Sylus knew exactly how to get under your skin, how to toy with your emotions and now that he knew your secret, he was going to enjoy every second of it.

"I-" You tried to form a coherent response but his hand had already found its way to your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"Don't be shy, kitten” he murmured, his lips grazing your neck. "You don't need to hide from me anymore. I've seen everything." His words were dark, yet there was something comforting about the way he held you, like even in this twisted obsession, you were safe in his arms.

The game had changed and you knew Sylus wouldn't let you forget it

You stood frozen in his arms, your mind spinning from his words, from his touch.

Sylus held you against him like you were his most prized possession-his obsession fully realized. The teasing look in his eyes deepened, flickering between dark amusement and something more primal.

His thumb traced slow circles against your hip, a touch that sent shivers up your spine.

"You know, sweetie" he continued in that low, velvety voice "I've been patient with you. Watching from afar...protecting you." His lips hovered just above yours, and you could feel his breath, warm and steady, fanning against your skin. "But now, I think it's time I stop being so... subtle."

Your heart pounded, torn between the thrill of his closeness and the fear of how much he knew-how much he'd seen. The intensity in his eyes, the possessiveness that radiated off him-it was overwhelming.

"Sylus, please" you breathed, not even sure what you were asking for. A part of you wanted him to stop, to give you space to think, but another part, the part he was awakening with every word, with every slow caress, wanted to give in. You could see the hunger in his eyes-the need to own every part of you.

His lips twisted into a knowing smirk.

"Please? You're going to have to be more specific than that, kitten. Do you want me to stop?" His fingers slid up to your chin, forcing you to look at him again, to confront the heat in his gaze.

You swallowed hard, your body betraying you with every beat of your heart. You should tell him to stop, but you couldn't deny the way your body responded to his. It was maddening.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours, so close that the air between you felt like a spark about to ignite. But he didn't kiss you. Not yet. Instead, he held you there, teasing, making you wait.

"You're mine” he murmured, his voice a rough whisper, "whether you admit it or not." His eyes darkened, his hand tightening slightly around your waist as if to make the point clear. "And now that l've seen how much you want me... well, kitten, there's no turning back."

A shiver ran through you, but this time, it wasn't just fear. It was anticipation. Sylus had seen everything-your vulnerability, your desires—and now he wasn't just your protector, your stalker. He was the one thing you couldn't run from.

Without warning, his lips crashed down on yours, the kiss rough and claiming. It was everything you'd feared, everything you'd secretly craved. His mouth moved against yours with a hunger that stole your breath, his hands gripping your hips possessively as he deepened the kiss.

When he finally pulled back, you were left gasping, your body trembling under the weight of what had just happened. He looked down at you with that smug, satisfied grin, as if he knew exactly the effect he had on you.

"You'll never be able to hide from me, sweetie," he said softly, almost sweetly, but there was that edge to his voice, a dark promise laced within the words. "I'll always know what you're doing, what you're thinking."

His hand slid up your arm, fingers brushing against your neck, making you shiver. "And next time," he whispered, his lips close to your ear, "you won't be playing with yourself alone. You'll be mine. Completely."

The room felt heavy with tension, the air thick with the weight of his words. You knew Sylus was serious. There was no escaping him, not now, not after this.

And maybe, just maybe, you didn't want to escape at all.

#lnds sylus #love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #l&ds sylus #lads sylus #sylus x reader #sylus #sylus x you

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hereforthehitsbaby · 25 days ago

Text

Hail to the King, Baby | Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Synopsis: When Eddie Munson brought you into the Hellfire Club room on your first day of being new to Hawkins - you never expected to be on your knees for him. And Eddie never expected to see you the next day.

Warning: SMUT!!! Oral M!Receiving, Blow Job, Language, Public Sex, Cocky!Eddie, Reader is 18+, Innocence Kink, Praise Kink,

Rating: E - NO MINORS!!!

Author's Note: So I used to run a Stranger Things blog in 2022. I'm in a writing slump at the moment so I figured it would be cool to reupload my work from that time.

Word Count: 6.3K

How can the world fuse two people together who have not been on the best terms? Is it due to lack of understanding, or lack of care? It's funny when you think about it in depth. People are brought together everyday through different circumstances. Some work out and some don't, that is just how it is at the end of the day. But at the same time, those who don't have the intent on working out always do - for some reason or another. Opposite ends of the social spectrum - no matter social class or religion, they can make things work. Its the matter of setting your mind to the goal, to see where this whole ship can lead them - whether its a rocky start or a flourishing end. No one will ever know if there is no try. Life cannot strive forth without these instances. All you truly have to do is give the other a chance, and see how much they can change your world after all. it's easier said than done yes but, isn't that an adventure within itself?

That's always what you thought - no matter what walks of life you or others were in, the best and sometimes the strangest relationships/friendships formed. Each person you meet on the daily plays a role in your life, whether it is to be a background character for a moment, to stir shut up, or to even to bring you a whole new sense of living. All the ones you gave chances to are still around to this day within your social circle - whether they are rude and malicious, or caring and loving. You make space for everyone, and like to see the difference within each person. Sometimes it drained you to no extent, constantly having to feel the sense of putting your best front on or enveloping yourself within this person's life if they do not have the intent to stay. Maybe it has to do with you being such a people pleaser. There was something about having to have that acceptance with every walking creature on Earth - knowing where you came from, where you grew up - they never gave you the positive reinforcement you needed. Abuse laid in its wake; You wanted to break that cycle.

When Hawkins, Indiana became the hub of cursed activity - you thought it was in a metaphorical sense. The countryside almost, more greenery and wildlife than you were use to. Growing up in the big city didn't give you that freedom like this small town could. So, you did what you could in your 1978 Buick Regal - packed everything you had and made the trek close to 600 miles away. You always loved ghost stories, quaint towns, and lively people - Hawkins seemed to call you quickly. Graduating from High School, and College before the age of twenty was remarkable in cases, landing you great opportunities. But in a way it isn't what you wanted - you wanted to explore, to adventure - to do sporadic moments on whim. Exactly like you're doing to this day - Hawkins was your post-bachelor's trip, now becoming your permanent home. You had no idea what it was but, something about Hawkins just stuck out to you, a calling almost. As if a darkened voice invaded your ears to say come home, though you are not from there. It would be where you made your roots, you could tell. Away from the hustle and bustle - away from the world.

It's when you arrived in Hawkins that things took a turn - you couldn't tell if it was for the better, or for the worst. There was this oily sheen that ran over the city, masking it as if it once was, rather than what it currently is. Downtown Hawkins held strips of businesses directly next to one another, slanted parking spots and lively chatter. A normal, unconvinced small town. They were like everyone else - poofy 80's hair, jeans, windbreakers - the whole nine years. Everyone looked happy; Sane. The more you drove through Hawkins you got to see that it wasn't all business - but pleasure too. Lovers lake, the lush greenery of the roads. Hell, even the schools looked great. It reminded you that you were on your last year, and needed to graduate in order to move on with your life. Being as young as you are, its difficult to make a name when no one takes you seriously. You had to learn from the locals, the ones who everyone despises - how to get passed that tomfoolery of dismissing your achievements. You would make them see, how could you not?

A Wednesday night in Hawkins had to be bumping - considering the influx of cars maneuvering their way into the high school parking lot. Earlier in the day when you had taken a tour of Hawkins High, you didn't anticipate to be coming whilst in the midst of a tournament for basketball. Hawkins was in the semi-finals as of this moment, if they won this game they would move on to the finals. A big thing for a small town - a big thing for a town that has lost so much in the last year. What could have been a better way to see Hawkins, than in full bloom? So many of its residence were sporting orange and green - waving small pompoms as if they were the cheerleaders - their enthusiasm lighting up the world. You couldn't help but smile, to feel engrossed in the atmosphere of what this school holds. It was tempting, enticing, and gorgeous. Something caught your vision though, to your right as you made a descend towards the funneled doors everyone was flowing through. A tall, slender figure with leather and denim, a chain in their pocket and a bandana in the back pocket of their jeans made their way through the other set of double doors, disappearing into the school. For a moment you wanted to chase the figure, but assumed it was part of the curse.

"Welcome to Hawkins, kiddo," you sighed to yourself - knowing exactly what your dad would say if he was still on this Earth. You didn't know this whilst attending Hawkins but, this is where your dad grew up, where he laid his roots. The original family of the small, tempting town - that is why it drew you in close, and snuffed out your past. You slid into the large crowd gathering inside, schmoozing through the bunch as everyone got their ticket checked. You on the other hand did not have to thankfully - since the guard from earlier told you it would be fine. Walking through the metal detectors at the front you pushed your way into the halls - seeing how bumping they were with excitement, and readiness. It was nostalgic almost, never getting to experience this for your own - but now even with being a smidge older it was lovely. You smiled wide as you followed the crowd into the gym - standing on the side of the bleachers whilst everyone found a spot. You weren't much of a stands kind of person, you'd rather stand by the door in case anything happens. Luckily for you, the spot was wide open and not as confined.

The last of the crowd started to come through and stake their claim on the wooden seats, sporting the Hawkins school colors as face paint and clothing - the cheers echoing directly next to you. The cheering started to die down when the principle of the High School made his way to the middle of the court - halting the bands movements. "And now to sing our National Anthem, all the way from Tennessee, Tammy Thompson!" He cheered, causing everyone to erupt into applause. The woman was pretty, curled hair that was slightly pinned back and gelled on the right side, Her white puffy jacket, Madonna lace gloves, and dangly pearl earrings were a statement within itself - her singing on the other hand, no one was ready for. As she began to sing the National Anthem, within the first second it was atrocious. You'd figure if Hawkins made it to the finals they would bring Tammy out - but maybe she was there for the semi-finals due to how appalling her voice was. In all honesty she sounded like a Muppet, a cross between Kermit and Ms. Piggy for sure. That was enough incentive for you to leave before your eardrums bled.

You quickly shuffled to find the exit of the gym, pushing the double door open hard to make it known someone was leaving. As you approached the vacant hallway, you were met with a nice - chill vibe spreading throughout the school. With everyone shacked up int he gym, it was easy to roam and not get yelled at. Hawkins High wasn't too big to begin with, one floor mostly but still large enough to hide. As you made two consecutive lefts in the building - you were met with the Stereo sound of Die by the Sword by Slayer coming through, causing you to bop your head. The large blackened double doors were clearly to the auditorium - every high school had one like this, plus the little plaque next to it gave it away. If someone was listening to Metal music in this school - then you had instantly found your people. Though you may not dress like a metal-head, you most certainly were. It was that preppy, and quaint exterior no one expected with a music taste like that.

Placing your hand on the door knob, you steadily pulled the blackened door open - being met with the instant smell of marijuana, paper and cleaning products. It was a whole wave of smells you needed to acclimate to, but what made it feel creepy was the elongated table awaiting on the stage, what looked to be a board set up with little figures. At the end of the table was a large Victorian Gothic-esque looking throne, reddened velvet cushioned for the chosen one. You snickered as you mentally made the remark, starting to move closer towards the stage. Each pass of the rows made you weary, wondering if someone was going to pop out and scare you, especially with how hard it was. But of course nothing did as you hit the bottom step. The closer you got to the table you could see the Dungeon and Dragons manual propped up for whoever the Dungeon Master was. All these small customized figurines and die laid on the game board, causing your eyes to twinkle. D&D was a game you loved playing back home, ever since middle school. It was exciting to immerse yourself into such gnarly campaigns, and reign victorious. It made you happy seeing it becoming more mainstream.

"Woah, so fucking cool," you let out with a smile as you trotted up the steps, standing near the throne as you crossed the stage. Overhead lights dimmed orange for ambiance, the drones of Slayer progressively got softer as your mind drifted to what each character meant - what the campaign must have entailed and so forth. You ran your fingers over the sanded edge of the table, feeling how sturdy it was in your grip. As for the chair off to your side, it was beckoning you forth to sit - to claim this spot as your own, until the players did show up. It made you smile seeing the excellent craftmanship of the throne, the blackened wood carved so intricately and beautiful. The velvet blood red cushion looked so plush, so soft. You could nap in this chair easily, if given the chance. "Hey! Yeah, no. No, no normies in my Hellfire Club," a sharp voice sprang up near you, coming from behind the curtains with a whole twelve pack of Pepsi, and a few bags of chips. You jumped at the booming voice, clutching your chest as you squeaked.

"I-I'm sorry!" You responded without thinking, always afraid of being caught. As you looked up at the man who spoke, you were taken aback by who it was. A tall, lanky figure. Brown hair that was the same softness and length as a lion's mane. Dark, obsidian eyes that showed every emotion possible. Full, beautiful pink lips. Leather and denim clad his torso as the devil on his shirt stood out perfectly. Darkened jeans with a chain connecting to the belt loop and wallet, a pirate skull bandanna hanging out of the back of his pants. Your breath was hitched in your throat as you came to realize, this was the figure you saw earlier coming into the school. This is my Hellfire Club. It all made sense now - you heard about the D&D club earlier on in the day but never connected the dots. It made your heard waver knowing kids got to enjoy the game without the satanic panic to back it up, and to have such an attractive leader made all the difference. Your body was frozen as you stared at the man, truly incomprehensible in this moment. "I-I got distracted." It wasn't a lie, you did. Tammy Thompson's awful singing made you flee to the auditorium - and boy were you happy you did so.

"I heard Die by the Sword play and got excited because Slayer is one of my favorite bands and Show No Mercy has to be one of their best albums, I couldn't pass that up especially since its so nostalgic for me and Tom Araya honestly is a bass god-" you rambled, causing the man to hold his hand up, trying to comprehend the words you were saying. "You, like Slayer?" He cocked his brow, crossing his arms over his chest. It was almost as if he couldn't believe the facts you knew, or that someone dressed as preppy could possibly enjoy it. But it wasn't the truth - he was more or less wondering where you had been all of his life, and how someone so genuine could have just sprang up in his life today. You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks as you nodded, shy and innocent all of a sudden. "I-I do, I love Slayer. Second favorite goes to Iron Maiden. Judas Priest a close third. I-I'm sorry for interrupting, I will go. It was nice to meet you, though." You waved softly as you turned your eyes from the man, ducking your head and keeping your eyes down as you headed towards the stairs. "You don't...have to leave, if you don't want to," he replied, his tone softer than before.

Spinning slowly to gaze over your shoulder, you bit your lip gently, toying with it in between your teeth. "Are you sure? I-I don't want to intrude." You didn't but at the same time you wanted to know this man, see where he came from and what made him loved D&D, along with Slayer. He shook his head with a softened gaze, tilting his head to beckon you over. "I'm Eddie." Eddie, perfect in person as his name is in your head. You shot Eddie a bright smile, returning the niceties with your own name which made the pale man blush - smiling over to you gently. That tough boy exterior you were expecting did fizzle out quickly, and instead was placed by a giant teddy bear - the softest of men in Hawkins. "So, big Slayer fan - have you ever played D&D?" The question caught you off guard, the intimate silence both yourself and Eddie basked in was dissipating. Processing the question as you had, you nodded with a gleaming grin, ready to spurt off on how you loved the game, but decided to reel it back in. "I have - it's my favorite board game! I haven't played in close to a year but, my stats are pretty good - not to brag or anything." That seemed to light a fire under Eddie as he plopped down into the throne, sitting back whilst his elbows rested against the arm of the chair. "Oh yeah? Amuse me."

"Well," you started, moving closer to Eddie's side so you could tell him, running your fingers over the mimic figurines. "So my name is Thia Sondrall. I am a level 37 chaotic evil rogue dark elf with a range attack of 120 feet, who also wields the sun blade which is basically just a bitchin' lightsaber." The passion and happiness you had for Dungeon and Dragons truly beamed within your voice, causing Eddie's eyes to widen with amazement. He was not expecting you to be so high of a level, nor was he expecting you to have such amazing stats. "My nickname is Nat 20, because I only go for high with attacks." There was a brim of cockiness in your tone, which you had every right to be. It was fun after all, creating these sheets and bringing such a wonderful character to life. Thia was your first ever character you created, birthed into existence, she was your golden girl. It was official, you had blown Eddie's mind out of the water. D&D player, metal lover, he was in whatever heaven was said to be. "Where have you been all of my life?" He retorted without thinking, eyes shooting wide at his own comment. The redness on his cheeks amplified.

Your own eyes went wide with shock, but the smile on your face spoke other measures. "I was thinking the same thing," you beamed - tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as you made your eyes connect with Eddie's. There was something else cascading through those mocha eyes of his - glints of golden flecks swimming in his irises. But besides the admiration, there was more. Desire. Lust. You couldn't differentiate the two - but you knew that he could sense it on you as well. "I saw you earlier when I first came in - honestly I was tempted to follow you and not attend the game. I am glad my instinct was right about that one." It sounded creepy in your mind but, it was the truth after all. You thought Eddie would have been skeeved out by your revelation but, he was not. In fact, his eyebrow slanted upwards as he tried to find the hidden message between your lips - trying to coax what you really meant out. Tilting his head back against the throne, he shot you a sly smirk, eyes wavering over your face and body. "Just my satanic powers bringing new victims in," he joked with a snort, waving his fingers around whimsically. It was an obvious joke but, you decided to play along with it.

Showing the shock of your face, you pretended as if Eddie was dragging your body forward, stumbling comically as you latched onto his chair. At first Eddie thought it was corny, but as you grew closer he laughed out loud - thinking it was the funniest thing he has seen in a bit. If someone could be as outlandish and funny as him, he loved it. As you snickered with him, he waved his fingers again, making them dance theatrically around your head. The closeness you two had was unmatched; A zing of energy flying through you to Eddie. You could tell he felt it as well, the way his eyes gleamed and glimmered for you. Bringing your eyes down to his lips, then back up to eyes - you signaled for what you were craving. The gap between your faces started to lessen as Eddie leaned over the arm on the left side, sliding his right hand to cup your cheek. Your eyes closed instinctively as you felt his supple lips pressed against yours, his hair covering your field of vision on the sides - engrossing you completely to his being. It had been a long while since you were last kissed, and you couldn't imagine a better person to do this.

The kisses slid from soft, sweet and shy at first - to pointed, passionate and direct. Eddie's lips moved feverously against yours, holding your face just a bit tighter to steady you out. Your left hand came up to his denim vest, harshly tugging on the collar to bring him closer. It's when Eddie's tongue licked at your bottom lip that you let out the filthiest whimper you could, causing Eddie to pull back, breathless. "Fuck, that was hot." The lust lacing his tone caused your eyes to dilate wider; Your breath started to pick up as Eddie ghosted his lips over the juncture of your neck and jaw, nipping lightly at the skin. A mewl released from deep down within your lungs, pulling you closer and closer to him. You could see your arousal soaking your panties beneath your jeans, rocking your hips slightly to break up some of the tension. Your hand found purchase on Eddie's leg, keeping you steady and from falling over. But little did you realize, you had grabbed a completely different section of him. The thick length, buzzing and throbbing within your grasp, twitched slightly at your grasp. It caused Eddie to omit a low growl, biting at your pulse point. A gasp ripped straight out of you whilst Eddie suctioned his mouth around the bite - soothing it with tentative licks.

You laced your free hand in Eddie's hair, yanking him back to see his lips swollen and glistening from kissing. Both of your labored breaths melded as one, his eyes as dark as the night above. Still in your crouched form, you slid your body around to the front of Eddie, pushing yourself under the table. Doe eyes of yours met his with passion, wondering exactly what the plan is. A charming, sensual wink was sent up to Eddie - giving him a small glimpse into what he is getting himself wrapped into. All Eddie could do was nod rapidly, moving both of his hands down to put your hair into a makeshift ponytail. The eagerness he placed helped out a lot; Your fingers moved to grab at Eddie's belt, pulling the opposite end through the loop and letting it fall open - moving nimble fingers to undo his top jean button, and yank the zipper down harshly. Upon opening the unzippered flap, Eddie's cock was already threatening to jut out of his red briefs. The strain providing his erection caused you to whine, wanting nothing more than to stuff your mouth full of the brunette. Quickly you slid your fingers into the waist band of his underwear, yanking down the fabric enough to let his thick length release from its constraint. A sigh of relief came out of Eddie, ready for whatever you'd give him.

Making your eyes look as innocent as possible was the goal, Eddie needed to see how soft you truly are. As he gazed down into your gorgeous eyes, he couldn't keep his mouth closed - he needed you to know; "So beautiful." The praise had your eyes almost rolling back, a fresh wave of your essence sliding against the cotton of your panties. You placed your hands in a triangle around the base of Eddie's heavy cock, stabilizing the muscular flesh whilst darting your pink tongue out. As slow as you could go, you placed one solid lick from base to top, sliding carefully over the thick vein. The underside of his cock binged and purged to your will, sputtering out some of Eddie's own seed. Right as your tongue came to lick around the mushroomed head of his penis, you angled it precisely to slot your tongue around his slit - lapping his precome up like it was nothing. Never did you once take your eyes off of Eddie's, watching how his whole face contorted with pleasure. His mouth hung open , eyes narrowing to keep his only focus on you. His thick, ring clad fingers grasped your hair tighter, swirling your head slightly to envelop his whole tip. "Sweetheart, I need you." You were not able to let Eddie fall to his own suffices, especially when he needed you.

Grabbing the base of his cock with your right hand, you sank your mouth over his length completely, sheathing it in between your lips. You felt the tip graze the back of your throat before you pulled up once more, swirling the first inch of him in your mouth. As you watched Eddie, you saw his eyes rolling into the back of his head, hips threatening to thrust up as you bring your mouth down again. Eddie was a goner; If he didn't get it before he got it now. The feeling of your tight, wet, warm mouth on him was driving him crazy. To keep you from gagging he had to do some serious intense holding, tensing his stomach so he couldn't thrust upwards. Each time you would pull back he wanted nothing more than to chase the feeling, engulfing his being with all of you. Between Eddie's grip on your hair and his sweetened sounds, you didn't know what was better. It was better than any song you had ever heard - he was truly magical. His moans slipped into whimpers and whines when you'd pull back - hearty and real when you would swallow him down. No one, and he means no one, gave head like you did. Though Eddie has only gotten a blow job once when he was fifteen, five years later you were giving his first a run for his money.

You created a steady rhythm with Eddie's hand movements and minuscule thrusts, meeting each one in tandem with the next. Sweat started to line the brow of Eddie, making his bangs stick thickly to his skin. The lights were warm around you, but your sexiness was making him clammy. He had never laid eyes upon a more perfect woman than yourself, and he was going to show you all the ways he saw your beauty. "Good girl, you are driving me crazy," Eddie let out a chuckle that slipped into a wholehearted moan the second you swallowed around his tip. That movement in itself made his hips snap forward, shoving his girthy length further down your throat. Due to rubbing against your uvula, it made you gag harshly as you pulled back, your eyes brimming with tears. You should've panicked but, you had to admit you loved it. As did Eddie, now holding your hair tightly to move at his pace. Your softness and delicate side was no match for him, it teased him, edged him beyond belief. Eddie promised himself he would make it up to you later, hearing the howls of Jeff and Gareth coming up the hallway. He realized in that moment, he was close to busting, but close to getting caught as well.

"Fuck me, sweetheart I'm so close-" Eddie let out before cutting himself off, gripping the back of your head. surging his cock deep down your throat. The action of Eddie made you moan quite loudly around his length, head so close to bumping against the top of the table. You loved the feeling of him deep within your mouth, using you for his own personal pleasure. You did not expect your first day in Hawkins High to be so dirty, but you were thanking whoever was listening for bringing you two souls together. Both of your hands rested flat against Eddie's parted thighs, digging your fingertips into the hardened flesh. You were willing to let Eddie ruin every hole your body had, marking them as his for all eternity. One day he would, after Hellfire he was going to show you what he was made of, and you would gladly accept. Hollowing out your mouth as Eddie's thrusts started to speed up, you were aiding in his release. He knew he would not be able to last; He needed you.

"Shit! Shit, shit, shit!" Eddie screamed, holding your head over his cock as his high erupted. Digging your whole palm into his thigh you felt your throat contract around him, forcing you to breathe through your nose. Garbled moans and mewls slipped around Eddie's thick cock as he worked himself through his high - the salty musk of his seed coating your tongue and belly. Looking up at Eddie with tear stained eyes, you were drinking in his orgasm face - the perfect O his lips created as his eyes fluttered shut. His labored breaths only made your nipples perk, wondering how they would sound at his home instead. Each spurt from the tip of his cock was immaculate, gathering his seed on your tongue. Once Eddie had started to feel himself soften he carefully removed himself from you, watching how a few drops of his spend dribbled down your chin, taking his thumb he cleaned up the mess, and pushed it between your lips. But what took him by surprise was how he felt his sticky seed coating your tongue, bringing your lips further in to capture his ring as well. A wink was sent his way under the table as you swallowed down all he gave you, listing his thumb clean as well.

"You naughty little thing," Eddie smirked, a bright - whimsical smile on his lips, wide and proud. Licking your lips to relish in the taste of this dungeon master, you pushed forth to give him a short, sweet peck on the lips, bringing it over to his cheek and slightly stubbly chin. At his words you pulled back and nodded innocently, puffing your bottom lip out as you tucked his softened member away. "Maybe you should take me back to your place, and teach me a lesson." Eddie was tempted to say the least; If your mouth was that good he knew your cunt would be even better. He almost said fuck it and dipped from Hellfire but, he would never leave his brothers hanging. "Holy shit - Eddie fucking Munson - you dog!" A somewhat high-pitched voice let out, causing you two to look over to stage right. Standing in the doorway were six guys, ranging in age. Your eyes went wide, as did Eddie's, as you saw the others of Hellfire club gawking. "You absolute legend!" One of them cheered, as the other whacked the kid named Mike. Smacking him was the one named Dustin - who just so have happened to spoke first.

"Gentlemen, meet Lady Thia - our new teammate," Eddie smirked, pushing the throne back so you could step out from under the table. With your hair slightly disheveled, you patted it down as much as you could, waving to the six men standing before you. It was your turn to now be smitten, as Eddie once was. Watching you take his cock like a champ, then use that filthy mouth to speak to his friends, turned him on once more. But as he buckled his pants back up, he puleld over a chair just for you, sandwiching you between himself, and Lucas. To say the least, it would be an interesting night.

-----

To say the night went by in a blink was an understatement - it flew by so quick you could've sworn you were in hyperspace. After the epic win that was D&D with Hellfire, Eddie had shucked you into his van - wanting to pick up where you both last left off. The trek down to the trailer park wasn't too far - and with his uncle working nights at the plant it meant you two would be undisturbed for the night. Eddie kept on his promise and showed you fifteen different ways he could make you come undone; On him, beside him, over him - it was the best night of your life. When you both were too sticky and sweaty to do anything else, he curled right on into your body, letting you look your arms around him. Going to bed holding Eddie was special, but waking up being held by him was way better. Though his alarm blaring into your ears was not the best wake up call - but him giving you head was. To that, you wrote down your number for him, and told him when you'd be free next. He couldn't wait to take you out, learn more about you, and show you how serene Hawkins can be.

You wished that you were still in bed with Eddie, instead of putting your lunch away at your first day on the job. Lucky for you to find such a great position for the money - and hours as well. The teachers lounge at Hawkins High was definitely spacious and breathable, you know when teachers weren't chain smoking. Covering your mouth so you didn't have another coughing fit, you proceeded to shut the fridge and make your way to Mr. Jefferies classroom - ready to help the senior level botany class. It was exciting, the tingles spread throughout your fingertips as you started to cement yourself within Hawkins. You could see yourself settling down here, now having a reason too with this job, and of course Eddie. As the bell rang to switch classes, you finally made your way into the botany class, waving to Mr. Jefferies as you wrote your name on the board. Body after body started to file in; You were told the class only had about twelve students, so it would be a great start. Still, the nerves bubbled up within your stomach.

"I told you Jeff, I am not spilling shit about last night - that stays between her and I." You heard the conversation ring out with a familiar voice, but decided against it. You just missed him too much, that was it. Plus, you could still feel the pulsing of his mouth on your neck, branding a perfect purple o - that was a bitch to cover with concealer this morning. The warning bell sounded as the door shut with the last student, causing you to place the chalk down and clap the dust off of your hands. "Good morning class - we have a special guest here with us for the rest of the year," Mr. Jefferies began, motioning over to you, and the board with your last name on their. "She will be joining us as my teaching assistant, while she finishes out her masters degree in Education over Indiana State University." You were lucky Hawkins High was about fifteen minutes away from ISU, making it easier to wrap up your last year in school. This was going to be it, the start of the rest of your life.

"Hello everyone!" You beamed as you spun around, looking over the fresh faces in your new class. Instantly your eyes were drawn to the back of the class where one Eddie Munson sat - eyes wider than they were the day prior, mouth hanging open in disbelief. You felt the same gut punch as you stared into his beautiful eyes, not realizing that he would be one of your now students. Gulping down the lump in your throat, you pressed on; Eddie watched you like a hawk as you spoke. Jeff on the other hand found that to be so rich, snickering as he punched Eddie's shoulder. "Eddie you are a fucking legend! You banged the hot TA! Dude no one will ever live up to this!" It should have felt like a notch on Eddie's belt, knowing he was sleeping with the hottest person in Hawkins High now. But he felt more tension approach, wondering if this meant you wouldn't want to see him again. That was until you made your rounds with the pop quiz for the day, leaving Jeff and Eddie for last. "Mr. Munson, I am advised you are needing a tutor for Mr. Jefferies class this year?" You hummed as Eddie looked at you in disbelief, slowly nodding his head to not seem rude.

"Good, follow these directions. We have a lot to learn about each other, and botany," you sent a wink inconspicuously to Eddie, pushing the index card with your office hours, and your sticky note for him closer to his hand. He got the gist quickly, slipping it into his pocket without anyone noticing. As you slipped back to the front of the class, Eddie spun sideways in his seat to open the sticky note, wondering what it could possibly say. Your delicate handwriting filled out the entire page; The first line making his cock twitch. "Eddie the Banished - for your first quest this school year, I command you to answer my question. Am I wearing anything under my skirt today? If you think you know the answer, meet me during study hall in Room 211." His eyes were bugging out of his head, desire-filled and staring directly back at you. With a devilish smirk he flashed his eyes over your legs, trailing to the curve of your backside, knowing for a fact your panties were currently in his jacket pocket.

This wasn't the end of what you two had created last night, but only the wonderful beginning.

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