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kamiversee · 7 months ago

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˗ˏˋ My Love Note ´ˎ˗

1 | Something about you

❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.

❧ Content | flirting, language, suggestiveness, fluff, & faint sexual tension.

❧ Word Count | 7.1k (we're starting off strong it seems...)

❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader.

| Chapters mlist |

——Congratulations, you’ve nearly escaped hell— not-so-happily entering your final year of university as time stands currently. And y’know what, you think you’ve coasted through most of your college years drama-free. Well, aside from freshman year you suppose, everyone fucks up around that time…

But that’s a tale for another day, right now, you’re finding yourself waltzing into an entirely different plotline— with your head held high as you waltz toward a newfound cafe that you haven’t had the pleasure of finding for the past four years. Up until today, you’ve just barely been stomaching dining hall caffeine. Which, to say the least, isn’t nearly as savory or energizing as coffee from your local cafe.

Four years you’ve been going to this school and yet here you were walking right into an establishment you swear simply spawned out of nowhere because you pass this street all the damn time and you don’t remember this place being here a week ago. Yet, when you enter the cafe and spot a sign that says they’ve been there for the past three years, you begin to realize that maybe you should start going out a bit more…

Nonetheless, you mentally claimed that if the coffee here was bad, you’d walk right out and return to never acknowledging the place. But hey, when you do push past those double doors, fingers wrapped around a warm metal handle, a waft of smoky coffee aromas simmering into your nose, and spot a rather attractive cashier first thing, you’re quick to tell yourself that maybe shitty coffee might be worth a few things.

Especially seeing as six staggering feet of height, fluffy bright white locks of hair, and the most dazzling set of blue eyes take notice of your entering seconds after you’ve stepped inside— how could you not tell yourself that terrible coffee may be worth digesting so long as you get to drink in this tall, fine man whose name you note as Gojo as you near him and read the tag on his apron.

“Suguru, it seems the gods have finally answered my prayers,” Gojo yells back to someone you can’t quite see yet. His eyes were all over you, drinking you in just as you were him. The tall man receives a laugh from somewhere further behind him before he redirects his words to you, “To what do I have the pleasure of serving you today, sweetheart?”

Your lips parted as you approached the counter fully, your eyes lingering on his far longer than they should’ve. “Uh,” And you were making a fool out of yourself already, great, “It’s my first time here, so I’m not too sure…” Okay, that’s a decent enough save considering how your words earn a half smile from the man in front of you who tilts his head and eyes you down.

And fuck if he wasn’t every bit of intimidating looking down at you like that. He places a single hand onto the counter space in front of him, leaning forward just a bit before turning his head back to take a glance at the menu hanging up, as if he didn’t have it memorized already, “Well, for first-timers I usually recommend anything but our coffee.”

You bat your lashes at the man for a moment as he returns his attention to you, “Seriously? That’s the one thing I came in here for…”

“Ah, well,” Gojo clicks his tongue and shrugs a bit, leaning toward you just to whisper, “Y’gotta come here when I’m in the back.”

You lean forward, intrigued by his words, “…Why?”

“Cause’ Suguru doesn’t know what the hell he’s doing,” Gojo chuckles a bit and you reciprocate before pushing your brows together questioningly. “Suguru, my best fr-, my coworker.” He clarifies quickly.

“Ohh,” You nod, “So should I come back another time, or…?”

“Nono, you caught me a few minutes before rush hour,” Gojo says rather cheerfully before he leans away from you and flashes a smile, “I can run back there ‘nd make ya’ somethin’ since we’re not too busy?”

At that, you take a moment to glance around the cafe interior, spotting one, maybe two people sitting on their laptops and languidly sipping or munching away at their breakfast. You’re glad you came in when you did.

Not only did you get the chance to talk to Gojo, who you turn back to seconds later with a nod, but you also got the chance to get not-so-shitty coffee according to the man. “Yeah, actually. That’d be nice,” You hum to him.

Gojo dramatically moves to stretch his arms, clasping his hands together before extending them out with a heavy sigh, as if he were preparing to do such a difficult task. “Alrighty then, is there any specific kinda coffee you’re lookin’ for?”

“Still my first time here, Gojo. So, no…” The way you say his name so suddenly has him wondering if you knew him from somewhere. But, you quickly smile a little and nod your chin to his name tag, to which he looks down and laughs at himself. “Surprise me,” You then say moments later.

“Surprise you?” Gojo echoes.

You shrug sheepishly, “If that’s not too much work for you-“

“No, I don’t mind. I can surprise ya’,” His smile at you deepens and you catch the slightest dip in his cheeks as the most enamoring set of dimples pops out to your gaze. “Buuut, before I do… Do you have any allergies or dislikes I should be wary of?”

You hum, “Uh, no I don’t think so? I’m feeling rather open-minded today so, just bring me something good enough to have me returning for more.”

“Yeah? I mean, I’m sure you’ll come back for somethin’ else aside from jus’ coffee,” Gojo laughs to himself at his own comment and your eyes simply widen, a cute lil’ tilt of your head catching his attention.

You chuckle nervously, “What else would I come back for if not coffee?”

He shrugs before slowly turning away, “Oh, I dunno… Perhaps a certain handsome cashier that’s caught your eye?”

Oh, you see where he’s going with this. It may have been a while but, you know what flirting looks like. “Is this handsome cashier in the room with us, or…?” You tease with a smile on your face, watching the way Gojo freezes and he sends you this look that you have to try your hardest not to laugh at.

He nearly pouts, “W-Well, yeah, obviously. You’re lookin’ at him.”

Your brows lift, “Am I?”

Gojo narrows those pretty blue eyes of his at you, “Do you not find me handsome?”

“Say I didn’t,” You murmur tauntingly, “Wouldn’t you be really embarrassed?”

The corner of his lips twitch before he scoffs playfully, “What are you, some kinda masochist?”

You giggle, “No, but seein’ that pout on your face was kinda cute.”

“Pout?” Gojo gasps dramatically, “Hah, what pout?” He scoffs again before straightening his face and attempting to be serious with you, “I didn’t pout-“

“You totally did,” You cut off, peering right into those mesmerizing eyes of his— damn, it was almost like you couldn’t get yourself to look away.

“I did not,” Gojo corrects your statement, lower lip poking out once more into a pout.

You shrug and finally get yourself to glance off to the side, “It was cute.”

He instantly tilts his head at that, ears perking up, “Y’think I’m cute?”

“I do.” You hum simply with your eyes wandering right back over to his face.

There’s this little moment between the two of you, a spark if you will, where you both just meet one another’s eyes and admire each other. Is this what mutual attraction feels like?

Perhaps if you squinted, you would’ve noticed the faintest shade of pink decorating his cheeks, “I-,” Gojo swallows suddenly, “Why thank you, sweetheart,” He utters suavely, as if to save himself from embarrassment. After which, he clears his throat, “That aside, we’ve got about six minutes before people start rushin’ in here ‘nd it’ll take two for me to prepare that coffee of yours so, do you mind givin’ me a name?”

You blink, “A name…?”

“Your name,” Gojo clarifies.

“Oh! Sorry,” You’re quick to apologize for your moment of daze, giving him your name seconds later to make up for it.

He starts to smile again, “That’s your name?”

“Yes?” You utter almost confusedly. Was there something wrong-

“It’s pretty,” Gojo interrupts your thoughts completely and your eyes go all wide all over again, a small feature in which he finds absolutely adorable.

“T-Thank you,” You stammer out, turning away to now avoid the eye contact you once couldn’t tear yourself away from.

“Uhuh,” His eyes scan you up and down once more before he sighs, “I’ll be back in a sec’, sweets,” Gojo says finally.

God, you think the nickname he threw out has your heart racing because it made your face so utterly hot. Almost as if you don’t hear nicknames like that on a daily basis…

Aside from that, you gave Gojo one last nod before looking back over your shoulder to see if anyone was coming yet. He’d told you that there was only a few minutes until rush hour so you were a bit wary that people would appear out of nowhere in the next-

“So you’re the girl that’s got Satoru all giggly, huh?” A voice purrs from somewhere in front of you.

Quickly, you return your gaze forward and spot a man, equally as tall as Gojo, with long dark hair, slim eyes, and a really pretty face— holy shit, how many hot guys work here??

“Uh,” You’re stuttering again, tipping your head to the side, “…Satoru?” You repeat, confused by the person he’s referring to.

The man chuckles, “Gojo,” He tells you, “Satoru Gojo,” You nod at the clarification and he grins warmly.

“Oh, then yeah I guess so,” You shrug sheepishly before flashing a smile, “So then that means you must be Suguru-“

“Geto,” He’s so quick to correct you that you almost immediately shut up, swallowing down your words as if you’d said something wrong. “Sorry, I assume Satoru told you my first name?”

You steadily nod, avoiding eye contact with him out of embarrassment, “He did…”

“As expected,” Geto hums before letting out a long sigh, “Just call me by me last, I don’t know you too well so I’m sure you understand.”

You hum, “Right, sorry.”

It’s a tad bit awkward for the next few seconds after that mild conversation but when you hear Gojo yelling from somewhere in the back, the awkwardness quickly subsides.

You even spot Gojo popping his head out from around the corner just to speak to his coworker, “Suguru don’t scare her off jus’ cause you have a girlfriend-“

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Geto interrupts, sharp with his correction as he glances back over his shoulder.

Gojo snorts, “Fine then, girl who’s a friend that you like-“

“I don't-,” A sigh leaves Geto’s lips before he’s moving to pinch the bridge of his nose, groaning afterward, “Just hurry up with the damn coffee before people start comin’ in.”

Your eyes somehow find Gojo’s and you watch him mouth out something to you, “He’s grouchy because his girlfriend’s ignorin’ him-“

“Satoru,” Geto says scoldingly, causing Gojo to flinch dramatically.

Then you see the white-haired man laugh before winking at you and dipping back around the corner. After which, you don’t even realize you’re smiling until you meet Geto’s gaze and feel your expression drop at the glare he’s giving you.

“What?” You murmur warrily, raising a brow at his plain look.

Geto tilts his head and studies your face for a mere moment, “You new around here or somethin’?”

“New to this cafe, yeah,” You explain, “Why?”

He shrugs, “I’ve learned most of our customer’s faces and majority of them live around the area but I’ve never seen you before.”

“I live not too far from campus but I wasn’t aware this cafe was here until today…” You explain steadily, earning somewhat of an intrigued expression from the man.

“Damn, really?”

You nod, “Mhm.”

“So, wait,” Geto scoffs a little at the thought, “Don’t tell me you’ve been stomaching dining hall caffeine all this time.”

You chuckle and glance off to the side, “Well…”

“If you live near campus, how the hell are you just now finding us??” Geto questions, he seems genuinely confused by your cluelessness.

Your shoulders lift into a shrug, “I don’t go out much.”

“Maybe you should,” He tells you.

A thin lipped smile tugs at your lips, “Starting to realize that now, thanks.”

The man opens his mouth to say something but he’s cut off by Gojo returning from the back and placing a hand on his shoulder, to which Geto glances down at.

“Alrighty Suguru, thanks for not scaring the pretty lady away!” Gojo says cheerfully as he pushes past his friend and makes eye contact with you.

Geto’s brows push together, “You’re welcome? I don’t know how I would’ve scared her, I-“

Gojo unintentionally cuts him off with a laugh, “You’ve been kinda grouchy towards women ever since you met-“

“Fuck off,” He grumbles, brushing off Gojo’s hand on his shoulder and turning to make his way to the back once more.

“See what I mean?” Gojo hums to himself.

Then Geto laughs, “You’re not a woman are you?”

“Suguruuu,” Gojo whines, turning his head back to his friend who’s already disappeared from his line of vision. Then, Gojo sighs and looks to you again, “Ah whatever, ignore him, he sucks sometimes.”

You grin, “You guys are best friends, aren’t you?”

The way Gojo tilts his head almost innocently is kinda cute, “How can you tell?”

“Mine acts similarly,” You explain, thinking of your best friend who’s not the nicest person in the world.

“Yeah?” Gojo hums, “An asshole once they get into a relationship?”

“I’m not in a relationship, Satoru!” Geto calls out from the back.

You watch as Gojo rolls his eyes at his friend's refutation of his claims. Looking somewhat off to the side, your thoughts wander more so toward your best friend, “Well, no, he’s kinda just an asshole all around.”

“Really? Why’re you his best friend then?” You’ve always found this question funny considering most people are confused about how you and your best friend are even friends when most times you two don’t get along.

Instead of really answering Gojo’s question, you look up at him and smile, “I could ask you the same thing, no?”

His brows furrow and he scoffs, “What? No, Suguru’s just grouchy today, I promise he’s usually better than that.”

You nod, “I see…”

“Anyway,” Gojo extends his hand out to you, “Here, give this a try,” He offers, handing a decently sized cold drink to you.

You receive the item and look down at it, “You’re not trying to poison me right?”

Gojo laughs, “Aaand why ever would I do that?”

The cup is steadily lifted to your lips as you lift your eyes to him once more, “I dunno, men are weird.”

“That they are,” He chuckles, “But no, that’d be illegal and I have no intentions of harming you.”

Again, you just nod at that and then take that first sip of the surprise drink he’d given you. A strong taste of vanilla and a nearly overwhelming amount of coffee creamer hits your tastebuds. You smile but you’re a bit taken back by how sweet it is. One, it’s way better than any cup of coffee you’ve ever had from the dining hall and two, it’s a lot sweeter than you were expecting.

“Holy fuck, how much sugar did you put in this thing?” You utter in surprise as you move the cup away from your mouth and glance at it as if that’ll give you the answer to your question.

Gojo lets out a laugh, “You said to surprise you.”

“Yeah but this is sweet as hell,” You tell him, your eyes raking over the cup in your hand.

“Sweet drink for a sweet girl, I don’t see a problem,” He responds with a little lean toward you.

“Right and-,” You scoff, eyes narrowing at the very lousy print of your name on the cup, “Who’s…” You almost laugh, “Christ, your handwriting is shit.”

Gojo lets out a huff, “Okay, first off, my handwriting is not that bad. And secondly-”

You’re quick to turn the cup to him and lift it, “Look at it!”

“Oh.” He squints his eyes at it, “Shit, that is kinda bad…” Gojo mumbles with an amused little smile on his face.

“Yeah, I can’t even read this…” You laugh, returning the cup to yourself, “But that’s okay, I appreciate the effort,” His smile grows at your comforting words as you then look up at him once more, “How much?”

“Since my handwriting’s so shit,” He starts, tilting his head at you and shrugging, “Consider it on the house.”

Your eyes seem to light up, “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” Gojo hums.

“Aw, thank you,” Who would you be to ever pass up something free? Especially given by this cheeky cashier before you.

“Anytime-”

Geto’s voice intrudes from the back, “Satoru I thought I told you to change these filters? And why’d you leave such a big mess, holy shit.”

Gojo yells back to his coworker, slightly looking over his shoulder, “The mess isn’t that bad is it?”

You snort, “If it’s anything like your handwriting then uh…”

“Alright,” Gojo’s quick to look at you once more, “You just got a free drink out of me so I don’t wanna hear anything from you.”

“Satoru, these filters aren’t gonna change themselves,” Geto nags further.

You watch as Gojo rolls his eyes and yells back to his friend yet again, “You’re literally back there already, change them yourself.”

“Nope, it’s your turn,” Geto argues.

Gojo frowns, “But-”

“The girl’s not goin’ anywhere anytime soon,” At that, you blink in surprise. How does he know you’re not ready to leave just yet? “Get your ass back here,” Geto orders.

Gojo turns his head and looks at you almost pleadingly.

You giggle, “What? Sounds like you’ve got some filters to change, Gojo…”

“Y’know what,” He scoffs and nods his chin to the cup in your hand, “$5.45.”

Your head cocks back a little and your brows go up, “I’m sorry?”

“The drink,” Gojo hums simply, looking back to make sure Geto wasn’t on his way out to scold him some more just yet, “Since you wanna take his side over mine…”

The way you frown misses Gojo’s eyes up until he turns to look at you one last time, his eyes going wide as you try to defend yourself, “I wasn’t-”

“S’fine, I got it,” An entirely different voice grumbles from your right, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. So close to you, an arm slips right past your face and you watch as an all too familiar man extends a card out to Gojo.

Your lashes bat a few times as an annoyingly familiar scent of cologne rushes into your nose. You’d literally just escaped said smell a few hours ago after leaving your apartment and yet here it was all over again, directly in your nose and you met the side profile of your best friend, “Choso?” You utter.

Whatever light and fluffy banter that was in the air seconds ago seems to die at the mere presence of Choso standing so closely beside you. Ignoring you, he urges Gojo to take his card and Gojo soon does so with a scoff— he was going to keep flirting and teasing you but here comes this all-too-serious-looking man taking your vacant side as if it were second nature.

The smile Gojo once had on his face simmered down and his expression became a lot more neutral as he quietly moved to charge Choso’s card.

After which, your best friend finally looks down at you, his eyes pointed in a glare that would make anyone feel unloved despite you knowing he feels quite the opposite (to some extent at least), “Don’t you have class in an hour?” Choso asks you in a dull monotone.

Your face scrunches up slightly before you shrug, “I was thirsty…”

Choso stares at you for a long moment, glances at Gojo, then back to you with a scoff, “Yeah, clearly.”

“What’s that supposed to mean-,” You’re cut off by Choso taking his eyes off of you and receiving his card back from Gojo, the two men making eye contact once more and both looking as if the other had done something to offend them. Your best friend openly scoffs in Gojo’s face before pocketing his card and turning away, quickly walking out of the establishment.

Your eyes go wide, “Choso, wait!” You call out as your eyes followed him walking away from you. Only to be ignored again, you let out a huff and start to walk after him but turn back to Gojo one last time, “Sorry about him.”

Gojo’s expression seems to light back up a bit and he shrugs, “You’re fine.”

You nod and start turning away before remembering something and looking at Gojo yet again, slightly pointing at him, “You owe me a free drink by the way,” You remind him playfully.

His face is twisting right back up into that intrigued expression from earlier, “Do I now? And what for?”

“Your shitty handwriting of course,” You hum.

"Hm," He takes a second to think before letting out a slight huff. You then feel and watch the way his eyes glide up and down your body before he responds to you, "Alright."

And with that, both of you smile at one another one last time before you go running off to catch up with Choso. Gojo watches you almost in some kinda trance as you leave, spotting more customers approaching but ignoring them for the most part as his gaze remains glued to you until you’re completely out of his line of vision.

Then, he lets out this breathy little sigh, “Fuck…” Moving to wipe his face off as if that’ll rid himself of whatever the hell he’s feeling after talking to you.

He didn’t even get to ask you for your number like he wanted to…

With perfect timing, “Satoru, the-”

“Filters, yeah yeah, I got it,” Gojo cuts Geto off completely, turning around to see his friend emerging from the back as they both swap places due to the approaching rush hour.

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

Outside, you were met with a slap of heat as soon as you exited the cafe, your eyes searching the area for Choso. A slight breeze of refreshing wind brushes over your skin as you finally spot the man having not gotten too far away.

Barely managing to catch up to him, you nudge Choso on his arm as soon as you meet his side, “Why’d you pay for my drink? I could’ve done that myself.”

Just as he did earlier inside the cafe, he acts as though you’re not even there, keeping his gaze forward and pretending he didn’t hear a single thing you just said.

“Choso? Hello??” You huff out, nudging him on his arm again.

His lip twitches into a scowl and he just barely side-eyes you, “What?”

You ignore all of his attitude, as you typically do, “Why’d you pay?”

“You’re a walking charity case,” Choso hums all too casually.

Your head goes back and you scoff, “I-, what? No, I’m not!” Then the back of your hand is landing on his arm as you hit him and he almost smiles.

Finding amusement in your reaction, he shrugs, “Yeah you are,” And before you can even try to get a response out, the cup of coffee in your hand is stripped from your grasp faster than you could blink. Choso removes the top and takes a sip, “Ew, you like this shit?” He scowls, placing the top right back on and handing you your drink back.

You blink, struggling to process a logical reasoning behind his action, “First off, no one told your ass to take a sip. And secondly-”

“I wanted to know what you got,” Choso cuts off, glancing at you to watch how quickly you get annoyed by him.

You groan, “You could’ve asked if that was the case.” He shrugs your words off and you roll your eyes at him, “And how the hell did you know I was in there anyway?”

“I didn’t,” Choso tells you, “I always go in there but today I happened to see your short ass at the counter when I walked in.”

You’re quick to shoot him a glare, “Stop that, I’m not short.”

He’s got this arrogant little grin on his face, “Look short t’me.”

“That’s because you’re taller than me, which doesn’t make you tall in general nor does it make me short.” You explain to the man simply with your eyes shooting daggers into the side of his face.

Choso continues to act as though you’re not even looking at him, “Being shorter than me makes you short-”

“And y’know what,” You cut off, tearing your eyes off of your overly bothersome friend, “You’re annoying.”

He cocks his head back, “Annoying? I’m annoying?” Finally, he looks at you, now searching the side of your face for answers.

“Yeah, very.” You hum.

Choso scoffs and then sizes you up and down, “Says the one who was gawkin’ over Gojo Satoru of all people.”

You nearly laugh, “Fucks’ that supposed to mean? How would that make me annoying?”

“He’s a weirdo,” Choso shrugs, pocketing his hands as he faces forward once more, “I can’t understand what you could possibly find attractive about him.”

You blink and both of you slow down in the pace of your steps, “I talked to him for less than ten minutes, how was I supposed to know he’s weird. And wait-, how does me finding him attractive even annoy you?”

Your best friend sighs and his words come out all too casually for them to be so offensive, “Cause when he breaks your heart,” Choso looks at you, “You’ll come bitchin’ to me about it.”

At that, you freeze, quickly turning to meet his gaze, “Who says he’ll break my heart? And bitching? Is that what you call me talking to you about my relationship issues?? Bitching? Seriously?” With your eyes narrowed and brows tightly knit together, Choso should’ve sensed that he struck a nerve there.

Yet, he seems to not care in the slightest, blinking as if he’d said nothing wrong, “Fuck else am I supposed to call it? I warn you about every guy you date but you don’t ever listen to me.”

Your face twists up, “That doesn’t make my complaints ‘bitching’…”

“Well, it makes it fucking annoying,” He hums before pulling his lips into a thin smile— mocking you through facial expressions.

Your brows go up, “Really? Okay then, sorry for ever confiding in you,” You set your eyes straight once more, “I’ll just go find someone else to-”

“You know no one else is gonna put up with your shit the same way I do,” He’s so quick to dismiss your little statement, almost as if the implication of you ever leaving him, in a sense, bothered him.

You scoff matter-of-factly, “That’s not true.”

“It literally is though,” Choso deadpans, “You have one friend and that’s me. Who the hell else are you gonna go rant to, hm?”

“Someone that doesn’t call my rants bitching.” You huff, crossing your arms over one another.

Choso scales his eyes down to your arms and he smiles, “Are you seriously mad about that?”

“Maybe,” You shrug.

His feet come to a stop and you follow suit, turning to avoid his eyes as much as possible. Choso stares at you for a moment before leaning toward you, tilting his head and angling his lips toward your ear.

All of which done so he could whisper to you, “M’sorry, princess,” Choso murmurs to you affectionately, “Y’know I didn’t mean that seriously, I’m jus’ fuckin’ with you.”

You remain unphased for a mere moment more before the constant brush of his breath against your skin makes you shudder, your hands moving to his chest to push him away, “Yeah, whatever… And stop calling me that.”

Choso blinks, feeling confused since you act as if he hadn’t been calling you such a thing for years, “Why?”

“Cause I don’t like it…” You so clearly lie— not that you enjoyed the nickname but more so that you’ve always felt indifferent to it. Or, almost always.

He smirks, “Your face is telling me an entirely different story.”

“Yeah?” You chuckle, moving to shoot your middle finger at him, “And what story does this tell you?’

Choso stares into your eyes for a long period of time before looking to your finger, smiling fully and tilting his head again, “…You wanna fuck me?”

Immediately putting your finger down, your brows tense, “What? No!” You exclaim, groaning as you return to your walking, “God, I cannot stand you.”

He laughs and follows right alongside you, “You’re so easy to annoy, holy shit.”

“And you’re insufferable,” You huff.

Choso shrugs simply, “You love me though.”

You glance at him, “Debatable.”

He pouts and pretends to clutch his heart, “Ouch-”

“Anyway,” Returning your attention to someone much less annoying than the man beside you, you nod your head back toward the cafe, “Do you know if he’s single?”

Choso nearly trips over his steps at the sound of that, letting out a cough, “Who-, Gojo??”

You nod, “Mhm.”

“Why?” Choso’s lips twitch, “You lookin’ to get rejected?”

Pausing, you look to him with a quirked brow, “Excuse me? What makes you think I’ll get rejected?”

“You’re uh…” He trails off a little, eyes lingering down your frame before he smiles and speaks to you in this faux gentle whisper, “Not his type, sweetie.”

Your eyes roll at that, “Okay, first of all, fuck you. Secondly, how do you know?”

“Uh, I’ve seen the kinda girls he’s into so trust me when I say…” Choso’s eyes shift to peer directly into yours, “It ain’t you.”

You stare back for a moment before shaking your head and looking off, “Whatever, you’re just saying that.”

“Yeah because I’m gonna lie to you about something like that,” He snickers to himself before rolling his eyes. Within seconds, he goes to look at you again only to see you heading in a different direction, “Hey! Where’re you goin’?”

“Away from you!” You call back.

He laughs yet again, “What, you can’t handle the truth now?”

Glancing back to him, “I’m gonna prove you wrong asshole.”

Choso flashes you a shit-eating grin as if he’s already begun praying on your downfall, “Sure you will.”

He then watches as you further away from him, his smile steadily fading as he catches himself a bit too happy at the sight of you so determined. Choso shrugs off whatever feeling the topic of Gojo Satoru had brought up within him, dismissing the entire thing as he truly believed you’d never really get yourself too involved with that guy.

Unfortunately for him, he didn’t see the way you were taking to Gojo before he walked in so, Choso had no idea of how things were about to play out within the next few hours.

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

As such, after that morning class of yours that extended decently into the afternoon, you found yourself rushing back to the cafe as soon as you could.

You knew not of Gojo’s working hours so you had no clue whether or not he’d still be there but you sure as hell hoped so. Choso had really ticked you off with his claims.

You not being Gojo’s type? Yeah right, he didn’t see the way that cashier was looking at you, nor did he hear all the banter that took place. Given that, you were determined to prove your dear friend wrong and yourself right. You know flirting when you see it and that’s exactly what Gojo was doing.

So to say he wasn’t at least intrigued by you would be a blatant lie you had every hope on exposing to Choso.

When you finally find yourself entering that lovely little cafe, it’s a lot more busy in comparison to earlier— something you take note of for your possible future visits. The line wasn’t exactly too long but quite a few people were hanging out or studying throughout the establishment.

That aside, your eyes were quick to search for a certain white-haired barista, gaze lighting up the very second it meets the man it questions.

Gojo had a weary smile on his face as he handed some girl a coffee and you could tell based on his eyes alone that he was tired of the chick rambling to him. He nodded and nodded, trying to keep himself appearing entertained by whatever she was saying but when he glances over and spots you, all his attention is diverted.

Those pretty blue eyes of his fixate on you and you watch as he finally dismisses the girl, nodding toward you as if to say he had another customer to tend to. She shrugs and finally leaves, to which you take place in standing where she’d been seconds ago, sending a smile to Gojo.

“Long day?” You suggest with a slight tilt of your head, to which he nods.

“You have no idea,” Gojo sighs out to you, “You’re back sooner than I expected though.”

He didn’t know what it was about you, perhaps the way you gaze at him, but there was something that kept his eyes lingering on yours far longer than normal— something that genuinely lulled him in. Perhaps it was the natural flow of conversation and how even from earlier, you didn’t really feel like a mere customer but instead just a person, a woman at that-, a very pretty woman, might he add.

“You owe me a free drink, remember?” You remind him, earning a different reaction than expected.

Gojo pauses, “Ohh… About that…” He hums, moving to scratch the back of his neck, “Yeah see, that offer no longer stands…”

You blink, “I’m not sure I understand…”

He lets out a sigh, then moves to lean forward against the counter, bending down and crossing his arms as he rests on his elbows and comes much closer to your eye level, “Another cute girl came in ‘nd got it before you,” Gojo whispers.

You couldn’t tell if he was joking or not and your brows pinch together, “Seriously?”

“Mmhmm,” He hums tauntingly with this smug look on his face as if to say giving away your promised drink was to get back at you for something.

“Well,” You click your tongue, “I think you owe me a free drink now more than before, maybe two.”

Gojo smiles, feeling amused, “Yeah? I mean, my number’s free. Y’want that instead?”

Your voice gets caught in your throat at how ridiculously smooth that was, trying your hardest not to give in and return a smile. “I… What am I supposed to do with that?” You end up asking.

He snickers, “Perhaps text me? Or call? Y’know, the thing you do with phones-“

“Alright smart ass,” You scoff playfully, grinning as you move to pull out your phone, “What’s your number then?”

Gojo smiles triumphantly and extends his hand out, “Here, lemme put it in for ya’.”

You glance at him, eyes meeting and yet another moment passing before you hand him your phone, to which he takes a second to look down at the device in his hands. Then, he enters his number and a contact name for himself.

After which, your cell is quickly returned to you and you look to see what he’s put in. Studying the name closely, you tilt your head, “Satoru?”

“Mhm, tha’s me, sweetheart,” He purrs, moving to rest his cheek against his knuckles.

You look up from your phone, “You want me to call you Satoru?”

Gojo shrugs, “If you don’t mind, yeah.”

“We’re on a first-name basis already?” You tease, eyes narrowing at the man.

“It seems we are,” He utters. His voice was a bit lower with you now, much more casual and playful. “That alright with you, pretty girl?”

Unknowingly, your face flushes, “Yeah, that’s uh, that’s fine.”

Gojo lets out a hum, “Good.” Then, the two of you do that thing yet again, peering into one another's eyes, unmoving, nearly frozen and dazed for a moment longer than intended before Gojo snaps out of it by almost awkwardly clearing his throat, “So uh, you still want that free drink or…?”

You blink out of your own stupor and shake your head, “No, I’ll come back for it tomorrow.”

“Oh?” His brows shoot up in surprise, “You’re coming back tomorrow?”

“It seems I am, yes,” A smile graces your face and he can’t help but stare.

Gojo mirrors your expression, “Just for coffee?”

Your eyes wander off to the side cheekily, “Perhaps for a certain handsome cashier too…”

He thinks his heart is fluttering. Is this normal? To experience such a genuine infatuation with a woman’s words within less than twenty-four hours? It was unusual for Gojo, that’s for damn sure. Hence why his head is tipping to the side, “Really? Have my charms worked so soon?” He teases.

You return your gaze to him, “Just a little, yeah.”

Mesmerized by you, Gojo nods, “Good to know.”

“Mhm,” After a slight hum, you glance down at your phone and check the time, “Well uh, I actually have another class so I should probably go.”

“Yes… Yes, you should,” He voices out slowly, again entangled into that daze of his until you lift your head once more, “But uh, make sure you text me later, yeah?” Gojo reminds you.

To which you chuckle and start turning away toward the exit, “No promises.”

He’s left in a mere awe of you, not even knowing what to say, and left utterly speechless from such an intriguing yet simple conversation with you. As you wave bye, Gojo had to feel for his heart the very second you leave just to see if it was working correctly because he’s not sure what the hell that was just now.

Whatever it may have been, he knows it was much more genuine and raw than what he’s typically used to. And it came so naturally too, the banter, the gazes, the flirting… Gojo was longing for more already and he’d only just met you a few hours ago.

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

All the while you’re just as cheerful at the interaction you just had, beyond ready to brag to your doubtful best friend of your most recent accomplishments.

Which is exactly why you’re facetiming said friend as soon as you leave the cafe. The call rings for less than a second before it’s answered and you’re met with a visibly displayed and… shirtless Choso.

Before you get the chance to even try and take in his naked torso, he’s already scowling at you, “The fuck are you facetiming me for?” He grumbles, taking the smile right off of your lips, “I’ve seen your face enough for one day. Why don’t you ever call like a normal person??”

You bat your eyelashes at the man, “Cho, we just got on the phone and you’re already souring the mood…”

He ignores your complaint, “What do you want?”

Steadily, your smile returns, “Guess who got a certain someone’s number,” You utter cheerfully, voice light in a little sing-song tone.

Choso gives his phone a blank stare, not saying a single word in response to that.

Which confused you, “Well? Are you gonna guess-“

“You could’ve texted me this shit,” He cuts off before you watch as your screen is soon met with the ceiling as he places his phone down.

You pout, “Well, yeah but then I wouldn’t have been able to see your reaction…”

He scoffs and pops his face into the camera for a second, eyes dull, smile nonexistent, eye bags heavy, and tattoo running across his nose the only thing giving some form of expression despite it being nothing more than a dark black line. “Does it look like I give two shits about you gettin’ some asshole’s number?”

You let out a long sigh, “Remind me why we’re friends again?”

And that’s when Choso seems to smirk, “Cause’ you won’t leave me alone.”

“I’m hanging up,” You groan.

His laughter, albeit somewhat of a rare sound, fills your ears, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry.”

You send him a look, “Are you?”

“Mhm, good job on gettin’ his number, princess,” Choso coos, making your eyes widen, “I’m proud of you.”

Your mouth opens to say something to that but your throat runs oddly dry. Instead, you gulp down his sudden praise and ignore how warm his words make you feel. “…Thank you.” You eventually say.

“Uhuh,” Choso nods before removing himself from the camera again, “Pretty sure he’s just trying to fuck though.” He says bluntly.

Instead of choking like he expected you to, you only scoff, “Fine by me.”

Your best friend is quiet for a moment, feeling almost silenced before he sighs, “Oh… But you told me no-“

“That was entirely different, Choso.” You cut off.

He shuts up again.

“You were drunk, and…” Your voice dies out.

To which he raises a brow at his phone, “And what?”

“And things were different back then,” You sigh, trying not to recall the entirety of your past with Choso at the present moment, “…You were an even bigger asshole, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Choso sighs, moving to dismiss the topic, “Anyway, let me know how things go with your new albino boyfriend.”

You scoff, smiling at the suggestion itself, “He’s not even my-“

The call disconnects. Oh how you just love your best friend and his antics. You wouldn’t trade your friendship with him for anything.

Or at least, that’s what you told yourself anyway. What exactly does a new man in your life bring if not drama? This right here was but the beginning of a very interesting journey toward such a fickle emotion we know as; love.

mlist | next chapter |

Tags 1/2; @siriusblackswankourtzeyy @eternaltpaoe @moonsgravee @sooshisweet @looking4hina

@blognicole @designerpvssy @andyfasia @shytragedybluefox @papigotwap

@senseifupa @gojoslefttoenail @juliiizh @gojos-cumslutt @lovergirl65

@sydlunamoon-blog @gojstrulxvezx @gigiipeaches @kivrumi @urunclesbottomlip

@iseeyouuu @annieleonhardtsbitch @lwkykiyo @itsbellablue-blog @gorouenjoyer

@mua-for-now @bee3l0v3r @scarletteyuno @lilablogsblog @lolznoelle

@madaqueue @keriaonmarz @parakisssss @aniniyah @trx-xrt

@sxnkuna @chocolatecheer @unibrow-yzz @lovely-lady-tits @woofzz2

@pineapplepan7 @janrcrosssing @hauntedchoso @linksylove @lemonninq

@littlemug00 @namjoonie17717 @notjustagirlinthisworld @moonneversleeps @k4rma1sntd3ad

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tiza0925 · 9 months ago

Text

A Celebration | 18+

Warnings/Tags: afab/female reader, tipsy!reader, soft!Bokuto, established relationship, pet names, teasing, needy!Bokuto, pussy drunk!Bokuto, praise kink, pussy eating, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting ♡ SET IN A TIMELINE WHERE ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED-UP AND OVER 18

Pairing: Bokuto Koutarou x Female Reader

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

“Ko,” Your voice comes out low, almost a whisper, as you look up at Bokuto while you sit on the edge of your guys’ bed, hands behind you as support, and you angle your head to the side—your hair falling over one shoulder.

Bokuto hums as he lifts one brow, looking down at you from the bridge of his nose with a small smile adorning his lips, and he crosses his arms to clutch the bottom hem of his shirt to take it off—leaving his chest bare.

And your stomach clenches at the sight of him half naked already.

“Yes, darling?”

Your answering smile is slow and syrupy, and your lashes flutter as you blink up at him. “‘m tipsy.”

Bokuto snorts, affectionately, and drops to his haunches in front of where you’re sitting—and he looks up at you with a teasing grin. “Are you, now?”

His hands—so rough and warm and huge—come to hold onto the back of your exposed calves, sliding his hands up and down in a soothing gesture that makes you shiver. “Did my baby drink too much wine tonight?”

You two were celebrating tonight.

Bokuto just won a very important match.

You just received news that you got into your dream university to do your master's.

It was something worth dressing nice for the night—with Bokuto in a fitted black turtleneck that hugged his frame so deliciously well, and black dress pants with a belt.

You had on a simple black dress that hugged your waist in a way that Bokuto couldn’t stop admiring—with your cleavage teasing him with thin straps and the dress running no longer than just below your knees.

A fancy restaurant was what you both decided to go to—and they were serving alcohol so—

You two shared a bottle of wine.

Except you drank more than he did.

And now it’s making an impact on you as your head grows fuzzy and liquid warmth spreads through your body.

You whine, your head feels loopy and there’s a warm ache beginning to grow more intense between your thighs, and you frown as you look down at Bokuto. “You let me drink all that wine.”

Bokuto’s chuckle is breathy, and he moves one hand down your left calf until his fingers wrap around your ankle, and he uses that to hold your foot in place as his other hand comes down to slip off your heel. “You seemed to be enjoying it more than I was.”

He sets your shoe aside, and moves onto the other foot, giving your shin a soft kiss as he takes the other high heel off. “And you’re cute when you’re tipsy, my love.”

You let out a huff, but you can’t be too annoyed by it.

Not when you feel a nice buzz underneath your skin, and Bokuto’s touches feel so delicate and hot on your legs that it makes you shiver and melt.

Plus—he always treats you well if you have some alcohol in your system.

You never have to worry.

Just like tonight.

You pout. “Shut up.”

But Bokuto simply smiles against your shin, and moves to brush his lips up your leg, murmuring in that playful low voice of his with a hum, “I don’t think I will.”

You let loose a small breath, although it’s a little shaky because of the way Bokuto’s lips feel brushing over your leg—his breath fanning against you as he spreads goosebumps over your skin.

It has you squirming, your thighs tensing, and you bite on your lower lip as his mouth travels closer and closer to your inner thigh—

“Your legs are so soft,” Bokuto murmurs, lifting your dress with his hands to expose your panties, and you suck in a sharp breath at the cool air slapping your skin.

“Ko,” You whimper, and he looks up at you—and his eyes widen a little at how you’re looking at him.

Eyes big, and foggy, and your red-painted lips parted with soft breaths leaving you.

“You okay?” He asks, voice coming out velvety soft, and you nod.

Then he squeezes your thighs, his mouth just inches away from your panties. “You want me to stop, love?”

God—no.

You just feel so hot and it’s doing things to you.

And it doesn’t help when you have the image of him kneeling in front of you like that—with his head right between your legs.

It gets you heady, feeling a little overwhelmed, and the wine in your system isn’t doing anything to quell that heat in your lower belly.

You shake your head. “N-no.”

And that’s all Bokuto needs to hear as he lets a smile crawl on his lips and leans forward to give your clit a delicate kiss over your panties. “Good.”

He darts out his tongue and slides it from bottom to top over your covered slit, a rumble in his voice. “Because I need to taste you, baby.”

He’s so unbelievable sometimes that it makes you want to shake your head in disbelief.

Leave it to him to become drunk not off wine like you—but by your sweet little cunt that he just loves to have his mouth on whenever he gets the chance.

Not that you mind, obviously.

Bokuto nestles his face right between your thighs, and you feel his cheeks and hair brush against your inner thighs as he kisses your folds and clit over the thin fabric you have on, getting your panties soaked as he licks and licks, groaning and digging his thumbs into your plush thighs.

“God—” You moan, your eyes rolling back, and you buck your hips up to get more—because it’s not enough when your underwear is in the way.

“Feels good?” He mumbles against your covered pussy, making you shiver, and you nod as you breath out heavily.

“Mhm—”

“Can I take these off, baby?”

You almost let out a frustrated breath at that question alone as your nodding quickens, almost desperately fast, as you pant and fist the sheets. “Please—fuck, Ko—please—”

He chuckles, endeared. “I know, love,” and he doesn’t wait a second longer as he tugs on the waistband of your panties, and you lift your hips to help him as he slides them down, tossing them aside.

“Shit,” He groans at the sight of your pussy—bare and wet—and he licks his lips before locking eyes with you, his smile is serene and mirthful as he grazes his lips over your sensitive clit. “You’re always needy when you drink wine, baby.”

Your eyelids grow heavy, and you feel heat flush in your cheeks as he hooks his palms under the back of your knees, and pushes your legs up to have them rest over his broad shoulders—

Then his tongue goes to lick your pussy from bottom to top—the tip of his tongue flicking at your swollen clit—

And you let out a sharp gasp as everything inside you bursts into honeyed pleasure.

“Always taste so good for me,” Bokuto groans against your cunt, running the flat of his wet tongue up and down your slit, licking your folds and the skin around it, tasting you with his eyes rolling back. “So fucking good baby, goddamn—”

And it’s a lot.

So much so that you fall back onto the bed, your back sinking into the cushion, and you throw an arm over your head—feeling so dizzy and heated—as your other hand cards through his hair, moaning.

His tongue is thorough.

If it isn’t teasing your clit—it’s dipping inside you, flexing in ways a finger can’t—fucking you with his tongue as he holds onto your thighs, eating you out like this is for his pleasure more than it is for you.

And Bokuto watches you through half-lidded eyes—how your face changes with every flick of his tongue, how your pretty little mouth opens with small moans, how your chest rises and falls with your heavy breathing as he licks and sucks your pussy over and over until you’re dripping everywhere, coating his chin and your thighs with your fluids.

“Can you cum on my tongue for me, baby?” Bokuto is breathless when he pulls back, kissing and nipping your inner thigh, before going back to lap at your drooling slit like he’s fucking thirsty. “I want to feel you, baby, you’re so good for me.”

You sob out another gasp when you feel his warm lips wrap around your clit to suck on it, his tongue teasing the underside of it as he hollows his cheeks, seemingly determined to make you lose your mind and any sense of your body almost immediately.

And—

“Fuck, fuck, Ko—!”

Your orgasm hits you as if a cord inside you suddenly snapped—and your knuckles turn white with how hard you’re gripping onto his hair, your vision going blurry and your cheeks are on fire as heat explodes from your pussy and throughout your entire body.

Your legs shake around his head, squeezing him, and—

And Boktuo moans, low and needy, as he works you through it—licking whatever juices gush out of your throbbing pussy, his mouth sucking over your oversensitive clit as you cum on his tongue like the good girl that you are.

“There you go, darling,” Bokuto purrs, lapping you up like a dog eager to please its master, and he huffs out a fan of warm air against your sensitive pussy—making it flinch as he kisses it. “Such a good pussy, baby.”

And what he says next—makes you want to almost cry because—

“Can you give me one more?” He’s panting against you as if he’s the one who just had an orgasm, and you make a sound at the back of your throat as you look at him—disbelief written all over your features.

But Bokuto smiles against your cunt, his tongue doing little zig-zags over your soaked slit until he works his way up to your abused clit—undulating his tongue against it to make you whimper in overstimulation, heat stinging your core and an ache in your pussy beginning to slowly grow again. “I just need one more, you taste too good, baby.”

He’s insane.

But you must be just as crazy to agree—even if it hurts a little—as he eats your sloppy pussy out, getting him drunk on it, until you’re cumming with a cry straight from your lungs, and fluids squirt on his face that has him growing so fucking light-headed with how hard he is.

And he’s definitely not done with you for the night.

Because like you said—he takes good care of you when you’re tipsy.

end.

Masterpost

#haikyuu #haikyū!!#haikyu smut #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu fic #bokuto smut #bokuto koutarou #bokuto x reader #bokuto koutaro x reader #haikyuu bokuto #Bokuto x reader smut #bokuto x y/n #bokuto koutarou smut #bokuto koutaro #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #bokuto x you

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kiwi-on-ice · 3 months ago

Text

Kinktober 2024 day 11: Face sitting with Mauga

fem reader, NSFW 18+

Also contains: implied chubby reader, pussydrunk mauga lmao

"Waddya mean y'scared?" your lover asks, booming voice echoing around your bedroom as he looks at your with his brow furrowed.

The burning shame of embarrassment claws its way up you as you glance down. The truth is, as soon as Mauga mentioned you sitting on his face, you felt apprehensive about the prospect. The worry of crushing his head, of causing him discomfort all in the name of your pleasure was something that terrified you. But alas, you had no idea how eager he was to have your cunt on his face, let alone how bewildered he was at your sudden shyness.

"Hey now..." he gets up from the bed, walking over to you and tilting your chin up, "Don't look away, just tell me what's in that head of yours."

"I guess i'm just scared i'll...crush you."

He blinks at you for a moment before bursting out laughing, a throaty laugh as he shakes his head. "Oh doll, you crushing me?"

You huff and look away, but he tightens his grip on your chin and pulls you back. "Oh c'mon, look at me! I'm not exactly a scrawny man princess. You couldn't crush me, or hurt me for that matter, even if you tried."

Despite the growing arousal between your legs, you still feel nervous, worrying your lip between your teeth before he hums. Gently, he moves his hand down to cup your clothes pussy beneath your dress, smirking at your choked whine.

"See? I think she likes the idea of being on top of my mouth." he teases, stroking his huge fingers around your clothed core, feeling your wetness.

Before you can reply, he lifts you up like you weigh nothing before ripping your panties with little effort. He then lays down and positions you above his face, his hair splayed out on the pillows.

"Now princess, you take a seat and get that delicious pussy on my mouth."

At his embarrassing and arousing words, you nod and tentatively lower yourself down on him, biting back a squeal when you feel him eagerly lap at your cunt. Your thighs shake a little, before he wraps his arms around them and roughly pulls you down all the way, so you're properly sitting on his face. The result is instant for both of you as you cry out, and he lets out a deep groan against your clit, sending shivers up your spine.

He eats you like a man starved, tongue lashing at your folds before prodding at your hole, tasting you. You moan, bucking forward experimentally so his nose catches your clit. The sensation feels amazing, so you repeat it over and over, eyes fluttering shut.

Moaning against you once more, he moves his head from side to side quickly, eager to get every inch of you with his tongue before he focuses on your clit. He teasingly spells his name on your throbbing bud, before sucking it gently just to feel your shiver. Clearly he's in heaven, tasting his girlfriend on top of him, sat on his face like a throne.

"That's it baby, use my face." he speaks against you, before encouraging your movements with his hands grabbing your ass. You tangle your hands in his hair and moan, any anxiety you had leaking out of your ears as the pleasure blossoms between your thighs. Riding his tongue, you move over and over again, time blurring together as you experience the new sensation.

Finally you get close, stuttering out a warning which serves to intensify Mauga's actions, eating you fully and completely, determined to feel you cum. And that you do, finishing in his mouth with a desperate moan, hips stuttering. But he doesn't stop, determined to drink up all your juices as he slurps against your soaked cunt. The noises that come from between your legs would surely make the devil blush as you squirm, not sure whether to buck away from the feeling or grind down against it.

"Y'can give me one more." he slurs against your pussy, gasping for air before going back to his motions.

You're unsure if you can, but you realise you have very little choice as Mauga thrusts his tongue inside your needy hole yet again, moving your hips over his face like a rag-doll. With a cry, you surrender yourself to the sensations, one hand still in his hair while the other finds support on the headboard. Your eyes almost cross as he licks you towards another orgasm.

"Yeah, yeah give it to me." he mumbles against your clit, sucking it and moaning as you cum for a second time on his face, chest heaving to catch your breath. He gently removes you, bringing you down to his level on the bed as you cuddle against him.

"That was hot doll, you gotta do that every time now."

#overwatch #overwatch x reader #overwatch 2 #overwatch headcanons #overwatch smut #ow2 #mauga #maugaloa malosi #mauga overwatch #mauga ow2 #mauga x reader #mauga smut #overwatch mauga #kinktober #kinktober 2024 #smut #smut writing

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yanderenightmare · 1 year ago

Note

Thinking about Alpha Bakugou using the internet to find out how to calm down his terrified little omega darling during mating <3

I love this idea!!! Because you just know he stumbles upon the worst most subjugating blog post, written by the most pompous Alpha-dirtbag out there – degrading Omegas, talking down about them as though they’re but silly childish things in dire need of an Alpha’s help.

And you know Bakugou’s egocentric enough to eat all that self-serving shit right up like it's gospel.

BNHA ! FIC

Alpha ! Bakugou Katsuki x Omega ! darling

WC: 3.2

TW: NSFW, dubcon/noncon, omegaverse, yandere, marking/biting, blood, subjugation + a little angst in the end

Five Steps for Alphas Mating Omegas

Step 1. Step one is simple: Talk Remember, Omegas, though a little wild and chaotic, are equally influential, sensitive, and weak to not only an Alpha's orders but our compliments, confessions, and encouragement as well. Just a few simple sweet nothings can warm an Omega’s core even when confused and stressed.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, puppy~” Katsuki made sure to mouth against your neck while sucking the skin full of blooming bruises.

His large warm hands, kept like a belt around your waist, messaged the soft skin with restraint – having slipped beneath your top to feel you directly. His back hunched and hips fighting to keep from humping – feeling his mouth water and the growing bump in his pants start to ache – getting drunk with all the right overwhelming instincts, sniffing until his nose stuffed full of that sweet Omega scent.

He’s always known what you are. Way before your scores ever confirmed it. He’s been able to smell it off you ever since you grew tits – and been able to tell long before that simply by the way you scurry around with those big puppy-dog eyes of yours.

The ones you’re looking up at him with right now.

“Katsuki…” You whined, and he grunted – head too hot to formulate any other response – only getting rowdier the more he lapped at the sheen of sweat coating your flesh.

It’s always been obvious that the two of you would wind up as mates – you’ve been imprinting on each other since you were both in diapers.

Even so, he hasn’t found making you trust and accept him easy over the years.

You’ve always regarded him with that very Omega-like uneasiness – looking up at him through your lashes with your shy fluttering eyes – a little pout on your lips and a little hitch in your breath each time he makes a move.

You’re too cute like that. Making him so fucking horny.

“Katsuki?” You whined again – this time more urgently, bringing him out of his thoughts.

Giving a reluctant groan, he smacked off your neck for only a second – huffing out a rushed “Yeah?” before returning to your neck. Working the skin – making it warm and numb to take his bite.

“Can we- can we wait?” You managed to force through the anxiety making your throat snug under the threat of his canines – a mix of pleading and shame evident in your meek voice where you felt smothered beneath the mass of him.

“Wait?” He questioned with a small laugh, though otherwise ignoring you – his lips still mouthing your neck and cheek with damp hot breaths – greedy hands climbing further up under your shirt, high enough to start playing with the lace of your bra.

“Just a little while?” You urged. “Please, Katsuki? Just a couple days?” Lip quivering and brows knotted as you tugged on his shirt, trying for his attention.

He pulled off your neck yet again, this time with an audibly annoyed groan – his red eyes soaked with hunger and focus. “Why?” He asked, visibly trying his own best to consider your concern, albeit begrudgingly where his hair had become sweaty in the wait.

“I'm not ready… can we please wait?” You begged, your big doe-eyes wet with the beginning of tears, searching for any ounce of pity he had to spare – doubtful but hoping he would listen.

You’re a little silly sometimes, he thought. What do you think he’s been doing all this time except wait?

He tsked, looking at your cute face torn with timidity and nerves – thinking silliness couldn’t be helped.

You’re an Omega, after all.

He gave your pout a kiss of assurance but otherwise offered little other comfort – hoping the small effort would be enough to calm you. “You’re ready, puppy. Believe me.�� He encouraged, once again slipping down to your neck – thinking if he found your soft spot, he could lick all your uncertainty away and unlock that domestic spirit he knew lived inside you.

But you weren’t so easily soothed – no longer just reluctant but protesting now. “No- please, Katsuki-” You insisted – your hands raising to pull on his shirt, even when knowing full well what little it would do.

“Puppy~ you couldn’t be more ready.” He insisted, trying to keep his voice soft and comforting. Gently prying your hands from his shirt and lifting them above you. “You just need to trust me.”

“No, no, no, please, please, please wait- Katsuki, please.” You shook your head with a sniffle, eyes squeezing shut with teeth sinking into your lip – trying hard to keep from sobbing even as your voice wobbled in the hysterics. “Just a couple of days- please?”

Katsuki started feeling defeated in his tactics, looking over your face twisting with panic and dread, hearing you beg while feeling the fight in your fists grow more adamant, trying to pry themselves out of his hold.

It was time to give up on step one and move on.

Step 2. This step is for when the first step doesn’t work: Tie your Omega up It might sound harsh, but it’s actually in everyone’s favor. Tying up your Omega benefits and prevents a lot of uncomfortable situations during mating. For example, they won’t be able to scratch and claw, and you won’t have to use your strength and potentially hurt them when trying to calm them down. If your Omega is especially wild, it might be a good idea to gag them as well in order to keep them from biting back.

He didn’t want to have to do it this way, Katsuki told himself. He wanted you to accept it as a yielding Omega should – and where he had expected you to be a little anxious, he certainly hadn’t thought you’d be so brazen as to fight him on it.

But he guessed it couldn’t have been helped, pulling the cotton rope he’d kept ready in his pant pocket – bringing it up to the small hands he had pinned to the pillow right above your head.

“I’m sorry, puppy. I have to do this.” He mumbled, starting to loop the soft thread around your conjoined wrists while holding them down.

“What- no-” Your eyes peeled open from withholding tears, growing wide when looking above you. “No, Katsuki- please don’t tie me up.” You started then, now with salted streams running freely down your cheeks. “Please- I’ll be good, I promise-”

“Sh-sh-sh, puppy-” He soothed, placing his lips on your forehead, tying one secure cross-knot after the other before fastening them to the bedpost in a neat bow. “It’ll hurt either way. This is so it doesn’t hurt more than it has to.”

He tried reasoning with you, but you wouldn’t listen – further spiraling into a complete panic with endless prayers rushing past your sorry lips. “Please untie me, Katsuki, please- please don’t do this- please-”

“It’s for your own good, puppy.” He dismissed – holding your face in both hands in an attempt to try and keep you from shaking.

“No- please, don’t do this-” You sobbed in spite of his efforts.

And in the failure of trying to lull you, he really didn’t know of any better way than what he said next. “If you keep screaming, I’ll have to gag you as well.”

And you went still.

And he realized a little too late how he’d growled it threateningly like a bark – left to watch how your pout quivered silently after – your twitchy button-nose and watery red eyes such a terrible twist to his heart where you looked so undeniably pained and betrayed whilst terribly pitiful whimpers left you, sniffling and hiccupping with hitched breaths escaping you in trembles.

He tried comforting you with yet another kiss to your forehead, maintaining the smoothness of his tone so as not to further scare or upset you. “I didn’t wanna have to do it this way…” He mumbled softly, rubbing his thumb against your cheek in hopes you would nuzzle into his palm, but only succeeding in smearing tears. “But you’re not really leaving me much choice here, puppy...”

Step 3. Keep eye contact Omegas are a neurotic and forgetful breed. Keeping eye contact will help them stay calm, especially when you’re trying to soothe them. For example, assuring them that you’re not going to hurt them. Additionally, explaining why and what you’re doing can help an Omega understand and therefore ease their worry.

“I’ll be gentle with you, I promise.” He vowed, keeping your face cupped in one hand while letting the other fall back down to grip your waist, feeling your breath quicken beneath it while watching the anxiety widen your eyes even further. “Look at me, puppy.” He distracted, fishing your gaze up from looking down at the threatening tent in his pants. “There’s nothing to be scared of.”

You tried finding solace in his words but didn’t find it much comforting upon the sight of his fangs – reminded of how he was going to sink them inch-deep into your neck.

“I’m not ready-” You repeated once like before, eyes swirling while looking deeply into his, trying to latch onto anything that might take pity enough to listen to you.

But it didn’t seem like any amount of your pleading words or teary trembling features was enough to reach him. “It’s okay, puppy~ I’ll help you get ready~” Is what he answered instead – nose nuzzling against yours in his own attempt at convincing you. “I’m gonna make you feel really good…”

You weren’t swayed, feeling ignored and suffocated and overwhelmed because of it. “But-” You tried again, only to once again get cut off.

“Shh- stop thinking so much.” He shushed you, still with his thumb rubbing gently over your cheek. “Listen to me, puppy. You know I would never do anything to hurt you, right?”

The question was left hanging without an answer for a moment longer than what he was comfortable with – his brows furrowing at the way your eyes skittered to avoid contact with his – feeling something twist in his chest at how you shifted uncomfortably beneath him.

“Right?” He repeated a beat later, his red eyes big and searching while vying for your gaze – gutted when you looked further away to escape it.

The quiet that followed felt strangling, and he had to swallow thickly to prevent choking on it.

He thought you trusted him more, but your silence spoke loudly. Suddenly he felt like what he was doing was something much worse than what it was…

He’s only doing this to help you, but you’re treating it like he’s committing a callous crime.

He knows he’s not always been the best mating material, but he’d thought you’d seen the change in him the last year.

But… you’re still terrified of him, aren’t you?

He exhaled a breath he’d been holding and resumed the normal pace. “I love you, puppy.” Once again, he brushed the well of tears forming beneath your eyes away with the stroke of his thumb – as the other hand continued its path, now moving downwards, over your skirt, until brushing your naked and trembling thigh. “You know that.” He spoke in a tone devoid of brass, simply tender yet hot, brushing your lips with his. “I’ve always loved you.”

You made unsure sounds but kept any words to yourself – unable to deny how his confessions made your cheeks heat, yet still left feeling dubious – lashes fluttering upon downcast eyes, feeling the rough fissures of his warm fingertips brush upwards, hiking your skirt up in its path until fingering the dainty lace of your panty line.

“All I want is to keep you safe.” He murmured, now in a damp whisper smeared wet against your neck, where he returned like before, kissing the same spot while searching for the place that would make you weak. “I’d never hurt you…”

His finger curled around the lace kept at your hip, and your fingers curled into your palms – knuckles whitening and joints aching in your trembling fists when he began pulling the dainty article down your thigh.

“But-” You couldn’t help but plead, feeling the air ride under your skirt to lick your exposed private – but the protest was left unvoiced as the hand kept on your cheek locked over your mouth instead.

“Shh-” Katsuki continued, his mouth and lips and tongue and teeth lathering your neck with growing desperation – a breathy growl in his voice now as the hand kept between your legs grew clammy from the heat. “No more buts and don’ts. No more silly fears.” He swallowed thickly to keep from drooling, sucking in a breath. “I promise, puppy, you’ll feel a lot better after letting me do this.”

Step 4. Next to last: Put yourself in your Omega’s shoes It’s important to remember that Omegas feel things differently than Alphas. While we smell sweet and fertile Omega pheromones, they smell threatening Alpha pheromones. Moreover, being smaller and weaker than your mate can't be easy. It’s natural for them to feel scared and hopeless. And as an Alpha, it’s your responsibility to ensure your Omega feels safe, protected, and taken care of.

Your whimpers buzzed against his palm as he cupped your sex with the other, his thick fingers stroking the tender puff of pussylips there, feeling the softness with curiosity.

“I know, puppy.” He soothed in a strained whisper. “You’re scared, you’re confused, you’re tired.” His breath getting heavy when delving between the folds to feel the wet heat there, needing to bite his tongue to keep from growling out a curse. “It must be exhausting being on alert every day… acting like something you’re not.”

You trembled, tasting the salt of his hand on your tongue where muffled cries failed to reach him – thighs quaking around the thick arm prying them apart – breaths erratic, feeling his fingers touch and explore and play in the slick found there.

“I wanna help you, puppy…” He insisted – but the smirk inching up his face wasn’t convincing, nor the way you felt it graze your throat like a knife. “I’ll make you feel so soft and safe- I promise, puppy.”

Step 5. Finally: Find the soft spot and bite it Keep in mind that you’re not saving or helping anyone by not claiming your Omega. Despite how much they might be crying or begging you to stop, marking them will only help them in the end.

Panic made you feel inclined to bite the hand smothering you and kick the weight which had you trapped – but something more instinctual made your body burst open like a blooming flower as his lips finally found that terribly delicate spot, the one hidden just beneath your ear.

You gave a moan and felt everything unknot, smoothing out into something numb and mellow – into something which welcomed his mouth and the promise of teeth within it.

“There you go, puppy~” He hummed, feeling you go slack and cuddly, turning into something even softer beneath him. “Just like I promised~”

He lifted his hand from your mouth, watching you pant in heat – having turned into something all too vulnerable – eyebrows cinched, and spit-slicked lips parted with soft moans while his fingers swept through your slit, rubbing circles into your budding clit – making your hips timidly buck back in chase of the pleasure.

“We’re gonna be perfect, puppy~” He purred, mouth still hooked onto that same spot that had you feeling all manors of fluffy – while his own hips stuttered in restraint as his other hand dove down alongside the other in order to unzip his own pants. “No more pills and suppressants- no more holding back-”

He tugged himself free, pushing his pants and boxer down to where he knelt – letting loose a long hefty sigh of relief against your neck while stroking himself against your cunt. Exchanging hands to rub himself with your wetness – breath stuttering with a groan – getting ready to enter you while his teeth sharpened for blood.

“Every time you get you’re little bellyache, I’ll breed you good and full…”

He pressed inside you in the same moment his teeth bit into your neck – swiftly, yet slowing, sinking in as deep as possible with ears too hot to hear you scream.

Large paws squeezed even tighter into plush handfuls of flesh, drawing claws at the blinding taste of blood rushing out of freshly split skin, pouring into his receiving mouth where a full eclipse occurred in his mind, making him go fully feral.

Benefits of the bite: - their ruts/heats won’t affect anyone other than you (meaning they’ll permanently stop being a target to other Alphas) - moreover, regarding ruts/heats, they’ll feel grateful for having someone they can always trust to help them at that vulnerable time of the month - they’ll become more domestic, feeling safer and happier for it - and because of the above, they’ll be less prone to stress and fear (all of which will improve their mental health) - additionally, the newfound sense of safety and loyalty will indict maternal instincts (making them more joyed over the idea of having pups) - furthermore, having pups will give them a sense of purpose and drive (allowing them to finally feel complete)

His senses came back to him slowly as the wild rush of blood died down – leaving him cold – feeling your limp body lay weak in his arms – barely breathing – if one could at all call it such and not whispy whimpers which left you at the labored rise and fall of your withering chest.

The blood was everywhere.

Sticky on his face and chest and hands, and redder than he could’ve imagined – coated thickly on your skin – gushing in wild flows from the gaping wound he’d ripped open on your neck.

He'd lost control.

His breath shuddered, dry in his throat – which croaked when he tried opening his mouth. “You’ll be okay, puppy-” His hands shook – speaking as if trying to convince himself more than you – unsure if you could even hear him. “It’ll be okay-”

Tired eyes seemed too heavy to stay open, with a glazed gaze that stared straight passed him – vision spotted and darkening quickly, fuzzy and just too slipping to hold onto.

You could only hum weakly as everything became blanketed – his voice giving way to an echo of unstable curse words and muted utterings of your name – soon to become simple shapeless sounds in the lulling void that enveloped your mind.

With every sense laying to rest, a sudden foreign warmth coaxed you to give in – to let yourself be smothered in something which felt akin to sleep yet seemed somewhat heavier – luring you away from the blurring sight of red eyes and red-stained skin and into the quiet comfort of dreamy drowning darkness.

tip-jar: Kofi

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atinycafe · 1 year ago

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San traces gentle patterns on the exposed part of your waist, his gaze fixed on the subtle shift of your breathing. With your back turned to him, he can't see your face, but he's certain you're fast asleep. If you were awake, he wouldn't dare to touch you. Arranged marriages aren't uncommon, especially among royal families. They serve to solidify bonds, bringing prosperity and peace to kingdoms, but not necessarily to the individuals involved - the groom and the bride.

It wouldn't be truthful to say that you two love each other or even that you are friends. Even after two years of marriage, your professionalism remains the primary barrier. Since childhood, you've been immersed in rigorous studies to prepare for your role as the empress of the nation. Your life was predetermined long before you were born. Hence, San comprehends completely why you maintain such a cold demeanor toward him.

But, he can't help but yearn for you. His thoughts constantly gravitate toward you, in a way that should be ordinary for a husband but not in your circumstances. He shouldn't love you, but you're making it incredibly difficult for him. Your conduct with those around you, the way you carry yourself, and the genuine kindness you extend, even to those beneath your station, it all makes it harder for him. He sees how you pay attention to your advisors during crucial meetings, noticing the subtle furrowing of your brows when issues with the crops or markets are brought up. Your effortless thoughtfulness is simply captivating; how could he not fall for you?

San places a quivering hand on your hair, toying with a curl between his fingers. He leans in to plant a tender kiss on it, but as you stir slightly, he withdraws his hand abruptly, pretending to be asleep, shutting his eyes tight.

You turn, still in your slumber, but San doesn't open his eyes. He knows you'll wake soon, as the sun begins to filter through the balcony, altering the hues of the sky. You emit a soft murmur, and San senses your eyes opening as you let out a gentle gasp. He feels you shift away slightly, understandable since your noses were nearly touching. San remains motionless, his eyes closed, his breath held.

He remains that way for several minutes until he feels you sit up on the bed. You sigh and stay put. San softly opens his eyes, stealing a glance at your profile. Your gaze is fixed on the horizon, the soft morning light accentuating the curve of your cheek.

"I need to get pregnant," you murmur softly, a tender hand caressing your belly, your eyes glazing over, lost in thought as usual.

"What?" San blurts out, rising to his knees, his eyes wide. "What did you just say?"

You turn to him, embarrassment flushing your face. You open your mouth, then close it, resembling a fish caught off guard. You didn't expect him to be awake this early. "No—I—I just—"

"I'll give you a son," he interrupts, his voice trembling, his hand running through his hair. "If you let me, I'll give you anything." His tone carries a hint of desperation. He had refrained from any physical contact since the beginning of your marriage. It would have created more distance between you, rather than bringing you closer. He didn't want your first night together to be the result of obligations. That would have been too cruel for his heart—feeling you so close, yet your heart so far away. No.

Your face flushes, and the overwhelming urge to conceal yourself becomes unbearable. You shake your head, swiftly discarding the golden covers from your body. "You must have misheard me," you hastily interject, planting your bare soles on the chilly floor. Before you can rise from the bed, San seizes your forearm and gently guides you back, prompting an unqueenly gasp to escape your lips.

He remains silent as he caresses your hairline with a tender hand, peering at you beneath his long lashes. Both of you linger in silence for a moment, locking gazes. The room is so quiet that you can almost discern the rhythmic thumping of his heart, although you can only feel it through the thin fabric of your nightgown.

"I like you," he murmurs into the void. You part your lips to reply, but he doesn't allow you to continue. "I don't know you, but I like you. I would say I love you, but I don't want to push you. So I'll settle for 'I like you.'" He concludes, his lips pressed together in an anxious frown.

You remain silent for a while, simply gazing at him, your eyelashes fluttering. San senses that he might be on the verge of being sick, until you break into a faint smile. Your hands find their way to his face, both of them cradling his cheeks, as your thumbs stroke gently.

"I don't… I don't know you," you mumble, and it's the truth. You hadn't taken the effort to learn more about him beyond the superficial information an empress should possess about her emperor, essential for ruling over a country by his side. "But I can learn. I can try."

Your voice barely rises above a whisper, and you both chuckle like children discovering something shiny.

He leans down over your body, planting a gentle kiss on the gold earring adorning your left ear and then another at the juncture of your ear and neck. He lingers for a few moments, inhaling your natural scent as he feels you shudder at the touch of his lips against your skin. A smirk tugs at his lips before he swiftly jumps out of bed, leaving you alone in the opulent chamber. You hear him exuberantly cheering with the knights outside the door, and you can't help but smile at his youthful enthusiasm. He's making a complete fool of himself, and you turn in the bed, burying your face in his pillow, releasing your own muffled scream of excitement, your feet kicking up in the air. You find yourself laughing, carried away by the rush of adrenaline.

Suddenly, someone clears their throat from behind you. You turn to find the rotation of maids, poised and ready for your daily morning routine. Flustered, you promptly compose yourself, rising to sit and smoothing down your hair. The youngest maids attempt to stifle their laughter behind their sleeves, while you attempt not to perish from embarrassment.

masterlist | taglist in comments

#ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez reactions #ateez headcanons #ateez fluff #ateez soft hours #ateez soft thoughts #san x reader #san imagines #san scenarios #san headcanons #san reactions #san fluff #x poc reader #kpop x poc reader

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chrollogy · 7 months ago

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iii. HONEYED GAZE

miya atsumu x f!reader

── next: iv. New year blues | series masterlist

synopsis: As the trip progresses, you can’t help but notice Atsumu’s distant manner which consequently makes you overthink, and question everything you’ve ever said—does he know about your feelings? With a strained heart, chaotic mind, and the situation at hand, you’re bound to snap one way or another.

chapter content warning: college au, snowboard instructor!kuroo cameo hehe :3, light fluff, angst, slightly suggestive (if you squint), mutual pining (it’s getting worse), miscommunication (its getting worse pt. 2), reader does something stupid, reader has a lot of thoughts, requited unrequited love, slow burn, poor depiction of snowboarding, not beta read.

word count: 4.9k

notes: divider: cafekitsune. sorry for the late update :< !! a lil longer chapter this time hehe

Engulfed by the warmth of the restaurant’s heater, the group patiently waited for dinner to be served. Low murmurs of fellow customers, the rusty bell at the door sounding with every new person coming in, and the sounds of utensils surrounded you.

Atsumu, and Suna were engrossed in a conversation about the bike tour earlier whereas the other side of the booth—Kita, You, and Osamu kept to yourselves, either by mindlessly reading the menu or scrolling on your phones, tiredness taking over your bodies.

Placing your phone face-down on the wooden table beneath, you let out a small sigh before rubbing at your eyes, gaining one’s silvery gaze.

The little interaction with Atsumu earlier could pass off as nothing but your mind worked in a different way—it worked hard to make every day a little inconvenient for you, whether you liked it or not.

Maybe, he just didn’t want to sit next to you anymore because the two of you spent the last three hours stuck together. A totally valid reason but why was it eating you away? You couldn’t help but feel a sense of oddness to it.

Unaware of your natural habit to stare at Atsumu through your lashes, you carefully watched his face—the way his expressions changed to mirror the topic at hand, the scrunch of his nose, the twitch of the corners of his lips, the shallow dimple on his right cheek whenever he smiled, the flaxen strands that kissed his forehead accentuating his face

All of it was seared in your mind. Funny how he was sitting next to Suna yet it was as if he faded along with everyone else—a distant whitenoise long forgotten.

God, you could look at him all day.

A subtle, involuntary smile formed upon your lips, eyes gleaming beneath the warm lighting of the restaurant as if there were heart-shaped sparkles in them.

As if by instinct, you snapped out of the trance, a burning gaze boring into the side of your face. Looking over to the right, you were met with Osamu’s steely gaze, his brows slightly furrowed—his stare weighed heavy with questions, ones that you probably didn’t want to answer.

Amusement was written all over his face as he narrowed his silvery eyes at you, his pupils scanned your panicked face—the way your brows rose, eyes widened, and lips parted.

The corners of Osamu’s lips twitched with smugness. He had a knowing look on his face, one that you absolutely didn’t like; each silent second passed with your thrumming heart, feeling small under the twin’s judging gaze. Osamu wasn’t born yesterday, he knew exactly what your expression conveyed, an expression that he’s seen countless of times whether it was directed to him or his twin brother.

“You need something?” You asked, feigning nonchalance.

God, it was painfully obvious that you were trying your best to act indifferent, even the tone of your voice betrayed you—it was airy and awkward. The younger twin stared at you for another heart beat before shaking his head, letting out a light chuckle.

Osamu dropped it at that, returning to the device in his hand for entertainment, and leaving you sitting there in total confusion. Though, the feeling dissipated as quickly as it settled as your mind slowly pieced the situation together.

Oh my goodness. He totally caught you staring at Atsumu with heart eyes.

You sat there, between Kita and Osamu as embarrassment pierced through your skin, and into your bones—an unsettling feeling that was all kinds of wrong. Suddenly, the warm atmosphere of the restaurant uncomfortably prickled at your clothed skin, hands eager to claw at its itchiness as the air turned heavy.

The thought of telling someone about your feelings for Atsumu was already a complete nightmare, and you could only imagine how much of a disaster it would be if his twin knew. Not only would Osamu probably tell him but would most likely tell the other guys as well—something called bro code?

You were always aware of the fact that the four were closer to each other, and shared ‘guy secrets’ with one another but you weren’t one to complain. Sometimes, they couldn’t understand your gossips & rants, and vice versa; after all, their thought process worked very differently from yours.

Endless thoughts raced through your mind as you stared at the wooden table in front, the white noise slowly fading into nothingness as each chaotic thought filled the corners of your head.

He absolutely figured me out, right? Now he knows I have feelings for Atsumu, and then he’ll probably tell him and Atsumu will probably know, and then—

“Thank you for the meal!”

The loud exclamation of your friends sliced through your train of thought, not even realising that the meals ordered had already been set atop the wooden table. With the unpleasant thoughts tucked neatly at the back of your mind for later, you dug into the hot meal before you.

The whole table remained quiet, except for sounds of chewing, and slurping as everyone filled their stomachs with food. It was understandable, everyone had a long, tiring day of moving from one city to another—not to mention the duration of each trip.

You quickly glanced over at Atsumu who was busy chowing down his own noodles, forehead creased with concentration as he chewed, cheeks bulging with food.

Oh, the sight alone did numbers to your heart. If only you could pull out your phone, and snap a photo of his silly face right then, and there.

“Don’t forget ta sleep early tonight. We’ve our snowboarding first thing in the mornin’.” Kita pointedly looked at the twins who only bowed their head in response, eyes glued to their own food as if it was the most interesting thing they’ve seen all day.

The decision to try out snowboarding was something out of the blue, despite all five of you having no snowboarding experience. You all decided that doing a new activity during this trip would be fun since everyone was on the same boat—you were already looking forward to tomorrow which would no doubt be full of falling, and slipping down the snowy slopes.

As the five of you fell into a mellow conversation, the pink winter skies of Shizuoka City slowly turned darker, and darker until lone stars decorated the night sky. The streets were now fully illuminated by warm hues of oranges, and yellows, devoid of any people.

The walk back to the hotel sobered you up a bit from the warmness of the restaurant, the frigid night air engulfing your body the minute you walked out the doors.

The twins fell into a step ahead of the group, bickering about who gets to shower first, which unsurprisingly turned into a racing contest where the winner would be graced with being the first one to hit the warm waters.

“Ugh, I don’t get how they still have so much energy.” Suna groaned, tucking the lower half of his face beneath the fuzzy scarf wrapped around his neck. You chuckled in response, looking up from your phone to gaze at the twins as they ran ahead into the night, reduced into nothing but silhouettes.

The brunette leaned closer to you, staring at the device in your hand, “Oh, the place looks cool. Atsumu was telling me about it.” He hummed, watching you scroll across each photo that Atsumu took earlier. Before you could reply to agree, Suna opened his mouth once again, and pointed a gloved digit to your screen,

“Woah, you look really happy on that one.” He chuckled.

Out of curiosity, Kita also leaned in to get a good look of the picture Suna was talking about—you were facing the camera, background showing the stunning hues of Momijiyama garden; a bright smile plastered across your face.

“Atsumu took that picture?”

You hummed, earning a slow nod from the older male, as if hinting something. God, Kita always looked like he knew something and nothing at the same, and it drove you up the wall. Ever since this morning, he had been acting a little off, albeit subtle, you caught on. You were starting to think that maybe you weren’t so secret about your feelings for Atsumu after all.

You gave yourself a few moments to really take in that particular photo—it tugged at your heartstrings.

Did you really look that happy in Atsumu’s presence?

A few minutes later, the three of you were greeted with a red-faced Atsumu who unceremoniously lay on the couch, legs spread wide open, and arms atop his stomach. The faint sound of running water from one of the rooms could also be heard, most likely Osamu taking a warm shower.

“You lost the race?” Suna snickered, plopping himself on the floor, in front of the couch. The blonde, grunted in response—he acted such a sore loser whenever his twin beat him in something.

Clearly old habits die hard.

You remembered each time Osamu came out as the victor every time the twins challenged one another back in highschool. Atsumu would have the biggest frown on his face, thick brows tightly knitted together, and to top it off, a sour mood that none could handle except his other half.

The first time you witnessed it with your own eyes, you thought of how childish his behaviour was. Though, that quickly grew into something you loved about him—Atsumu’s own little charm; the way his bottom lip ever so slightly jutted out into a pout, velvety voice coming out in whines.

Adorable would be an understatement.

Who knew that the behaviour you used to find annoying could turn into the one you loved the most about him?

“You can use the shower in my room. . I don’t mind waiting.” You spoke up, sitting on the wooden dining chair, feigning nonchalance. For the first time that night, Atsumu’s honeyed gaze met your own.

You didn’t miss the way his brows subtly rose, and the tinge of pink on his ears. Oh god, Atsumu didn’t know why his mind wandered all the way to . . shameful thoughts—you weren’t even suggesting anything, just plainly telling him that the shower in your room was available. So why did he just picture the two of you—

The blonde squirmed atop the sofa, shaking his head, “‘S okay. I don’ mind waitin’ for ‘Samu.” He shrugged, completely avoiding your eye gaze by pulling out his device.

Nodding at his reply, you retired to your own room to take a shower and prepare for the night ahead. A soft thud filled the room as you closed the shōji behind you, blocking out Atsumu’s voice as he conversed with Suna, and Kita. The room faintly smelled of grass, and straw, a scent of nostalgia embracing you like warm rays on a sunny morning.

You weren’t going to lie, it felt a little lonely to occupy the room all to yourself knowing that the four were going to be sleeping side by side on their respective futon. Nonetheless, this was your safe haven for the next few days—a space where you could unmask the hidden feelings that lay deep beneath, and be alone with your thoughts.

To say that hiding your feelings for Atsumu didn’t affect you at all would be a sweet, sweet lie—keeping one’s emotions at bay around him almost felt like a sport, and you weren’t winning at all.

After taking a much needed warm shower to clear your mind, and rinse away the unwanted feelings of today, you tucked yourself beneath the ivory kakebuton, and settled for the night—the mellowed hum of Shizuoka City lulling you to sleep.

The dream you had was weird—it was about Atsumu; everything was hazy, and incoherent, as if a distant memory neatly tucked in the back of your mind but you knew one thing, it felt like home. One minute the two of you were laughing about something—head tossed back, and face angled to the skies above, the next minute you were confessing to him.

Unfortunately, you never got Atsumu’s answer as you were gently awoken by Kita who had probably been whispering your name for a good minute now.

As you came to, he leaned back, and sat on his haunches. Warm light seeped from the parted shōji, illuminating the side of his face. Hushed conversations from the living room filled your ears, soft footsteps padding to, and fro around the suite.

“We’ll wait for ya t’ get ready, ‘n then we’ll all grab breakfast downstairs.” He gave your drowsy state one last look before sliding the shōji behind him, leaving you alone—darkness occupying your room once again.

You were greeted with your friends scattered around the living room; the twins were busy having a push-up contest near the hallway to the door, Suna was on his phone sprawled on the couch, angling the device towards the twins—without a doubt, taking a video of them—whereas Kita leaned on the wall, also occupied with his phone.

Everyone was clad in much warmer clothes than yesterday due to the activity ahead but you all ditched the trench coats, and opted for waterproof puffer jackets. You noticed the raven beanie Atsumu donned, bits of flaxen strands peeking from beneath the knitted accessory.

Your heart may or may not have skipped a beat at his boyish appearance.

After a warm, hearty complimentary breakfast, the five of you were enroute to the ski area after briefly waiting for the shuttle. It was the early hours of 6 AM—Shizuoka was still asleep with the dark sky watching over the city. Occasional sounds of early birds humming, and crickets chirping engulfed you along with the frigid breeze.

It was a calm, still morning.

Though, you felt weird inside—it was like the feeling of the calm before the storm. You couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was about but it involved a certain blonde twin.

You had your suspicions during breakfast back at the hotel—albeit, not a concrete conclusion—where Atsumu was quieter than usual. He was surprisingly reserved, and meek, keeping to himself as the group around him conversed about anything, and everything; he wore a weird expression, as if he was trying his best to hide the true emotions that lay beneath.

Normally, no matter the time, Atsumu never ran out of words to say—even when he had to attend the dreadful 8 AM classes back in first year university. Though, you just chalked it up to tiredness or maybe he didn’t sleep well.

Not that you were worried or anything.

As the engine of the bus hummed along the dim winter streets, you looked outside the foggy window on your right, the views of the sleeping city slowly faded into icy, deserted roads—the ivory blankets of snow rested atop mountain peaks in the distance gave a picturesque view.

The raven-haired stranger who sat beside you didn’t hesitate to pull his phone out, a hushed question coming out of his lips. Apparently, he wanted to take a picture of the mountains outside but doing so would require him to squeeze in a bit closer to you. Upon nodding, he gave you a smile before leaning over to take a couple of photos. To give the man ample distance, you pressed your back into the plush backrest, eyes wandering over to Atsumu who already had his honeyed gaze on you.

You sucked in a breath. He quickly looked away.

The blonde sat on the same row after the aisle—next to Kita—whereas Suna, and Osamu sat on the row behind, leaving an empty seat next to you; hence, the handsome raven-haired man. You thought he looked like a professional with the iridescent snowboarding goggles in his hand when he had politely asked if he could sit next to you.

Nonetheless, the rest of the ride went smoothly as the bus carefully ascended further up the snowy mountain.

The endless views of ivory, crystalline snow glimmering beneath the first rays of the peeking sun welcomed the five of you—everywhere was covered in pristine white, blanketed with a thin fog that completed the prospect. The air was crisp, and a white mist formed with every word spoken, and breath taken.

You all basked in the serene landscape for a moment, taking in the milky slopes before heading into the ski resort to grab rented gear, and start today’s snowboarding lesson.

Sitting on one of the benches, you struggled to fasten the black snowboard boots on your feet—it had several parts to it with a rather long string attached inside which you were absolutely clueless about. Kita seemed to easily get the hang of it—were you really surprised? No—and was now helping Suna, with the twins closely following along.

Before you could voice for help, a tall figure stopped right in front of you,

“Hey, did you need help with tha—Oh! It’s you, again from the bus. Did you need some help?”

You looked up at the owner of the voice—which also caught your friends’ attention—it belonged to the man from earlier, the one who sat next to you on the bus.

He donned a red uniform gear, you noticed the word ‘Instructor’ written in white, bold letters right beneath the company logo; the iridescent goggles he held earlier were on his head, secured around a black helmet. Oh, so he worked here.

“Hey! Yes, please. ‘M not quite sure how to fasten it.” A humourless chuckle left your lips, cheeks slightly heating in embarrassment.

Was your cluelessness that obvious?

He nodded, kneeling down before you, and gently circled his gloved fingers around the hem of your snow pants, folding it upwards to your knee. “Your first time snowboarding?” He asked, briefly meeting your gaze before focusing on the task at hand.

You hummed in agreement, “My friends and I are headed for a beginner’s lesson.” You sat there in a silent awe as the ravenette skilfully fastened your boot, and onto the next one. There was nothing to be fascinated about, really, this was probably second nature to him.

“Yeah? Same here. Well, as an instructor, of course. Who knows, maybe I’ll be assigned to your group.” He gave you a warm smile, looking up from under his lashes—you didn’t miss the faint snort that came from where the twins sat, earning a quick glance from you,

Osamu was nowhere to be found, leaving you with a very obvious answer as to who the sound belonged to. Atsumu’s gaze briefly met your own, and you swore there was a subtle crease between his brows but it disappeared before you could even process it.

Shifting your attention back to the raven-haired man, you mirrored his smile, thanking him for his kind help. “Ah, don’t worry about it. I’m Kuroo Tetsurou, by the way.” Before you could say your name, he was already walking away, slipping into a conversation with a fellow staff.

Atsumu tried to be very normal, and nonchalant about it. About the way the rest of his friends shot teasing remarks for having some guy on his knees for you—literally, and maybe figuratively. Okay, so what? He worked there, that’s what he was supposed to do. What the hell is the big deal? He just fastened your snowboarding boots for you.

Nonetheless, it bothered Atsumu. Even just thinking about it planted a burning seed of jealousy within the pit of his stomach, it gave an uncomfortable, fiery feeling whenever he moved around.

Something Atsumu did not want to get familiar with.

As if the universe beyond the skies were against him, it turned out Kuroo was the assigned snowboard instructor for the group. Atsumu noticed the smile you donned at that information, it would’ve had his knees buckling if it wasn’t aimed towards the stupidly tall, raven-haired instructor.

A whole day to spend with the man Atsumu already despised, how great. Not to mention how Kuroo was a snowboarding expert while Atsumu could already see himself falling, and tumbling down the slopes—god, he’s already at a disadvantage.

Whatever.

The beginner’s lesson with Kuroo started off fairly smoothly—he gave a thorough explanation of the snowboarding basics while being very attentive to each of you.

There were a couple of laughs here, and there as the group attempted to get used to balancing on the snowboard—90% of the time, your gloved hands were met with iciness from slipping, and falling. You were sure Suna had at least a few embarrassing shots of each of you, either face planted on the snow or in the midst of unceremoniously falling down.

Though, you weren’t really afraid to be off-balance since the snow beneath was soft, and inviting, despite its coldness.

As the lesson progressed further, you caught your gaze wandering over to Atsumu more often than not—you just couldn’t help yourself, not when a weird aura was emanating from him. The funny thing was, Atsumu seemed to be mirroring your actions because whenever your eyes shifted to him, his honeyed gaze would already be on you.

During the first hour of the lesson, your eyes met for a total of 12 times. Not a single word spoken, just the intimacy of eye contact. You were always the first one to break eye contact since it did more damage than good to your poor, poor heart. Though, his caramel eyes didn’t seem to tug at your heartstrings the way it did.

His stare mirrored his behaviour—empty, and distant.

It worried you. A lot. Atsumu was clearly acting this way to distance himself from you, without a doubt—he was indifferent towards Suna, and Kita, still the same old Miya Atsumu that everyone knew, and adored. So, why was he suddenly acting this way with you?

By the final hour of the lesson, your head was already filled with a million possible thoughts, and scenarios of why Atsumu was acting weirdly, and none of them were pretty. It got to the point where you couldn’t even hear Kuroo’s velvety voice anymore as it plagued your mind.

Suddenly, it felt like you were the only one atop the mountain—all alone in the endless snowy fields where distant murmurs, and laughter were replaced with harsh, frigid winds. As if you had travelled inside your own mind—cold, harsh, and devoid of any happy things.

During the walk back to the building, you fell completely silent—zoned out—and not engaging with the group’s conversation. With the amount of times Atsumu had been glancing at you, he didn’t miss the way your behaviour changed, and he knew damn well it was because of him.

The transport back was awfully suffocating due to the fact that Atsumu was sitting next to you—albeit, not by choice. There were more passengers that boarded the bus which meant someone had already taken the seat next to Kita, leaving Atsumu to awkwardly settle into the seat beside your own, after sparing you a side glance.

Both of you were as still as snow that decorated the mountain caps, careful not to touch each other’s clothed arm as the bus swayed with every turn taken. Despite the weird tension, you couldn’t help but feel oddly relaxed—maybe it was from snowboarding all day or maybe it was because Atsumu radiated warmth like no other. Even though he was centimetres away, the warmth of his body was inviting, as if wrapping two mellow arms around you.

You could almost just . . drift off to the land of dreams . .

“Wake up. We’re here.”

The sound of Atsumu’s muffled voice slowly filled your ears as you came to, you were greeted with orange, and pink hues of the afternoon skies outside the window. His gloved hand rested atop your knee, gently shaking it. The bus was half empty now, a small line of passengers down the aisle waiting to get off.

Fuck, did you actually fall asleep?

Upon fully sobering up from sleep, your body stiffened after realising that your head was comfortably resting on Atsumu’s right shoulder. You quickly sat up, awkwardly straightening your back which earned a rather quick glance from the blonde. Heat uncomfortably prickled your skin, something you’ve grown very familiar with.

“Sorry. I can’t believe I fell asleep on you.” You rasped, awkwardly rubbing your nape in embarrassment. Atsumu dismissed it with a lazy wave of his hand, and a forced smile,

“‘S okay.”

That was all he said before getting up from his seat to leave the bus, not once looking back. Your heart sank, and once again, your mind was clouded with unpleasant thoughts.

You hated how easy it was for Atsumu to build a wall between the two of you.

Though, you didn’t have the time to mope around when Kita called out your name. He rested a hand on your shoulder as he walked behind you to the front of the bus—it gave you a sense of security, as if to remind you that he’ll always be there for you. A wordless reassurance.

That night, you tucked yourself under the kakebuton, hoping that tomorrow, and the coming days would be somewhat different from today.

Oh, how wrong you were.

Naturally, you enjoyed the remaining two days of the trip—On the third day, the group had the opportunity to enjoy a leisure cruise around Shimizu Port which offered breathtaking views of Miho-no-Matsubara in front of Mount Fuji; a view you’d only seen on the internet back then.

With the salty, winter sea breeze engulfing your bodies, the five of you took hundreds of photos with the picturesque background which was surely one for the memories.

Somewhere along the cruise, as the boat glided across the still waters of Shimizu, you, and Atsumu were left alone outside on the open deck. You looked over at the blonde who quietly stood beside you, flaxen strands gently dancing in the winter sea breeze, caramel eyes locked on to the azure waters below—his brows were furrowed in concentration, lips slightly pursed.

You didn’t know which was more breathtaking, the exquisite views of Mount Fuji or Miya Atsumu.

“Can I talk to you?”

It was quiet, and unsure but loud enough for Atsumu to hear over the gentle winds of Shimizu. He looked at you with the same gaze—not the one that made your cheeks heat—before giving a nod. You stared for a moment, studying the way his honeyed eyes shone beneath the winter ray, endless pools of sweet caramel drawing you in.

“Are we . . okay?” You could almost laugh at your pathetic tone, chest tightening with uncertainty. There was a brief pause, the purring of seagulls filling your ears as Atsumu contemplated. He contemplated. That alone was enough to put a crack in your heart.

As if the universe wanted you to break more, he gave you a forced smile, and lied through his teeth,

“Of course we are.”

Both of you were aware of how absurd that lie was but none dared to speak. Instead, you gave a silent nod in response before heading inside to sit with the rest, leaving Atsumu to his own thoughts.

On the fourth day—the last day—the five of you did some last minute souvenir shopping before boarding the shinkansen, en route to Hyōgo.

The purpose of this trip was to have fun, and enlighten one’s mind but you couldn’t believe that you were leaving Shizuoka with a heavy heart—memories of the past four days weighing you down more than it’s supposed to. All because of a certain blonde. You didn’t know what to make of it—what would happen next.

It scared you to even think about drifting apart from him.

The thing is, you expected to come out of this trip closer to Atsumu than ever but it turned to the complete opposite, and you didn’t know what the reason was. He was a different person when the second day rolled around—he never spoke to you, instead, you were only met with his honeyed gaze, though, it was anything but saccharine.

That same night—after parting ways with your friends—you twisted, and turned beneath the ivory sheets, heart racing, and palms sweaty. Even though your body was exhausted from travelling, your mind kept you awake.

Though, only one thought resided in your head.

With your phone in your hand, you clicked on the conversation with Atsumu, a thread of past messages greeting you. Your chest tightened at how close the two of you used to be.

You figured that Osamu must’ve told his brother about what happened back at the restaurant—how he caught you staring at Atsumu. The former was already suspicious of you since then, it only makes sense for him to tell the blonde about it.

About how you might have feelings for him.

That was the only reason you could think of, and it seemed plausible enough. It surely didn’t feel like a coincidence with the way Atsumu’s behaviour shifted after that night. You chalked it up to his way of gently letting you down, a wordless way of telling you that he, in fact, doesn’t feel the same way.

Why else would he behave weirdly, and avoid you?

The time read 1:30 AM. December 30th.

With a heavy heart, you gathered several thoughts from your heart, and mind before typing out a lengthy paragraph containing a confession of your feelings, and the expectations of rejection.

Confessing to him wasn’t going to change the fact that he didn’t like you back but you needed to hear from Atsumu that he, indeed, didn’t reciprocate your feelings—one last closure to rest your pining heart, and then you could move on. Easier said than done but not entirely impossible.

After a heart beat, you send the message to Atsumu.

—

taglist (closed)

tags: @ushijimaschubbs @tsumudoll @starlitsawamura @littlemiyastars @h3art-ablaz3 @eggyrocks @integers @rrosiitas @food8me @schelamski @honeytwo @nyaaa-cat @cherribxio @aloesstuff @bontensh0e @willshebloved @yogurtkags (kindly turn on your mentions! :>)

affiliated with @houseofsolisoccasum !

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narcoticv3nus · 3 months ago

Text

Too Late to Change 𝜗𝜚 John Price

Kinktober Day XV: Cockwarming

summary: you’ve been bratty and john know the best form of punishment tags/trigger warnings: 18+, f!reader, p in v, thigh riding, cock warming, spanking, degradation, punishment, brattamer!john, bratty!reader, sub!reader, dom!john wc: 1k

MASTERLIST

“Sit still.” John’s harsh voice silenced you into complacency before his hand swung through the air, smacking against your skin as your whimper rang out throughout the room.

“M’sorry!” You whined, gripping the fabric of his shirt in your hands as you gazed up at him, hoping to gain his attention. And yet his eyes remained focused in front of him, his fingers working against the keyboard, his arms bracketing you in his lap. Your hips shifted slightly, the head of his cock pressing up against your G-spot, causing you to let out another moan. You buried your nose in his chest, hoping to muffle your noises.

"Quiet down," John muttered, his stern expression belying the slight twitch of his lips as he tried to suppress a grin at your whimpering.

"Remember your place, pet." He said firmly, squeezing your thigh lightly with his free hand. The tone in his voice was a mix of discipline and playfulness, a reminder that you were here because of your earlier behavior. Despite the situation, you couldn't help but feel a thrill coursing through you at his words. He leaned forward, his warm breath tickling your ear as he continued typing away.

"And if you want to be of any use to me, you'll keep still and do exactly as I say." He added, his thumb tracing circles over your inner thigh. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, and you bit your lip to hold back another moan.

You looked up at him through your lashes, noticing the subtle tension in his jaw. His brow furrowed as he concentrated on the computer screen.

It was clear that even though he was punishing you, he was fully committed to his work. That dedication only made you want to serve him better, to be the good girl he needed. You nodded obediently and held your breath, doing your best to remain still. But it was difficult, with every keystroke causing his cock to brush against your sensitive walls. John didn't miss your reaction, a small smile playing on his lips as he glanced down at you.

"That's better," he murmured approvingly before returning his attention to the screen. "Good girl." He rumbled, feeling your warmth envelop him fully now. He continued typing away at the computer, the screen casting an eerie blue glow upon his face. Inwardly, he was fighting off the urge to thrust into you, to claim you right there and then. The way you squirmed under his gaze only made resisting harder, but he knew this was a lesson you needed to learn.

"Feels good? Hm?" He asked, his tone even but the edge of desire evident. He knew how sensitive you were, how quickly you could come undone if he pushed harder. He wanted to hear your sweet moans of pleasure, to see you lose control in his arms. But more importantly, he wanted you to understand that your actions had consequences. That even in moments of play, there was always an underlying layer of discipline. His thumb continued its teasing circles, moving higher up your thigh until it grazed your clit, causing you to jump slightly. He smirked at your reaction, enjoying the power he held over you. "Focus, pet." He ordered, his fingers tightening around the mouse.

"Just a little longer." He reassured you, his voice low and steady, as he felt you tremble in his lap. It took every ounce of self-control he had not to give in to his desires and thrust deeper into your warmth. He could sense your frustration building, the way you bit your lip and squeezed your thighs around him, trying to hold back the impending orgasm. He knew that part of this punishment was the denial, the anticipation that came with it. But another part of him wanted to reward your obedience and stay still as he told you.

As his fingers continued working on the keyboard, he couldn't help but steal glances at your flushed face, your eyes squeezed shut, and the way your breasts rose and fell with each ragged breath you took. His resolve weakened, and his need to claim you grew stronger with every passing second.

After some time, he let out a long breath, sitting back in his seat before turning his full attention to you. He lifted your chin gently, forcing you to look at him. "You've been very patient, haven't you?" he asked, his thumb now rubbing small circles on your clit, teasing you mercilessly. Your eyes fluttered open, meeting his, and he saw the raw need reflected in their depths. "Answer me," I demanded, increasing the pressure slightly.

"Yes, sir." You breathed out, your voice barely audible.

"Good girl." He praised, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your lips. He knew you needed release and was happy to give it to you. But first, he wanted to hear you beg for it. He pulled back and met your gaze again.

"Ask me nicely, pet. Beg me to make you cum.” He raised an eyebrow at you, a smirk playing on his lips as he waited for your plea. His fingers continued their gentle assault on your clit, the pace unchanged, drawing out your anticipation.

His cock throbbed with each passing second, eager to buck into your tight warmth. But this was about teaching you a lesson and reinforcing your dynamic.

Your cheeks flushed even deeper, and your eyes widened as you realized what he wanted. You hesitated momentarily, then finally whispered, "Please, sir. Make me cum." Your voice was so soft that he almost didn't hear it, but the desperation was evident. That was all he needed. With a satisfied grunt, he shifted his hips, burying himself fully inside you. He started moving slowly, savoring the feeling of you wrapped around him.

Your moans grew louder as he picked up speed, each thrust more brutal than the last. "That's it. You Take it." he growled, his grip tightening on your hips. His release was building, fueled by your desperate pleas and the tightening of your muscles around him.

"You're mine." he reminded you, thrusting deeper. He felt you shudder in his arms as you reached your climax, your body tensing and then releasing in waves of pleasure. As your orgasm subsided, he allowed himself to let go, filling you up with his seed. You both sat there momentarily, catching your breaths before he gently pulled out of you and tucking himself away. "Remember this next time you decide to be bratty, pet."

main masterlist, rules

#tw:nsfw #tw:dom!john #tw:sub!reader #tw:degradation #john price x f!reader #john price smut #john price mw2 #john price x y/n #john price x you #john price x reader #john price #john price cod #cod john price #2024 kinktober #kinktober 2024 #kinktober #venus.cod #venus.johnprice

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happybird16 · 1 year ago

Text

NSFW, MDNI, Sub!Levi

His thighs are shaking, the thick lines of muscle quivering on either side on your own. Sitting in your lap like this, Levi is a comfortably heavy weight, pressing you down and rocking your body every time his hips churn.

He's pressed as far into you as possible, chest rising and falling against yours and his face buried into your neck. Every time he whimpers, you can feel the warm wetness of his breath bathing the skin there. And he's whimpering so much. He can't even really speak at this point, only letting out soft desperate little noises or long needy moans.

"Ngg ah please! Please please please," he's chanting nonsensically into your neck. The grip he has on your shoulder tightens and the rolling thrusts he's been fucking into your hand with shorten into abated little jerks. The way his thighs shudder against yours makes you want to dig your fingers into the muscle there, tracing the winding path of a vein.

His cock is so wet in your palm, hot and throbbing with the tip a desperate, dark red. You've been stroking him for so long that he's sticky and slick, the loud tacky sound of your slow strokes serving as the perfect backdrop to his whimpers. Every time he's gotten close, every time he's started swearing at you to let him cum, you've merely slowed down, tightening your grip around his base and just letting him throb. You've lost track of how many times you've brought him to the edge.

"Please please please," Levi continues to chant thoughtlessly into your neck. His shoulders quake, and you can feel wetness blooming again at your neck. "Please. Let me cum. Please-"

You can't help but smile, slowing down your strokes to wrap your palm around his base one last time. His whole body jerks, all the air in his lungs escaping in one long defeated sob. You wanted him like this. All of his bluster gone, all of his cursing gone, just mindless and wet.

His cock pulses in your palm, the tip leaking more and more pre-cum. Shifting you grip, you swirl your thumb along the tip. Levi presses impossibly harder into you, letting loose one long whine. "Please please please-"

"You know what I want." Pressing a kiss to the hair along the top of his head, your free hand shifts, cupping his chin and tilting his head up so that you can pepper the little wrinkles of the crease of his brow with kisses. "Tell me you're pretty. Say it and I'll let you cum."

Levi whines, eyes fluttering and jaw working against your palm. His eyes are shiny with tears and they look so dark, desperate and thoughtless, and his hips churn into your palm in a desperate shudder. "I- " his voice cracks with wetness, "I'm p-pretty."

Smiling, you press a quick kiss to the tip of his nose, stroking him with an urgent speed. His whole body seems to throb and he tries to bury his face back into your neck, but your tighten your grip on his chin, keeping his face up so you can watch his features twist in pleasure. "There we go. Such a good, pretty boy." He throbs in your palm, cheeks darkening even further. You smirk, watching tears well up along his lash line, "How about you say it one more time?"

#n.sfw #this is from a dream i had last night #levi x reader #sub!levi #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader smut #levi ackerman #tay's.drabbles

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anantaru · 2 years ago

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icanf stop thinking abt dainsleif and choking T_T his pretty hands around your throat while he fucks u… rough actions but words filled with praise and as sweet as honey!!! telling u he loves you and how pretty you look like thattt 💕

cw. rough, choking, fem! reader

a/n. currently very busy travelling to different countries due to my work, so enjoy this little drabble i wrote on my notes app while flying 🩷

dainsleif loves how you feel under his roughened palm— how he can recognize your hard gulps and swallows while he‘s pressing his digits into your neck just a little bit more, not too much but also not too faint, so he could notice and experience each flex and hiccup you’d do— in a certain manner, you could state that it‘s the perfect amount of pressure as he saw it.

"fuck— i love you." he pants and fully jerks himself into you, hips spent but determined to push you towards a curling climax— until you feel all bubbly and warm while blissfully crowded with his erect cock. it's almost shameful, how the pearly drops of pebbles threatened to slip from under your sticky lashes at the stimulating stir on your lower region, "you’re so- so pretty." he whimpers above your lips, exhaling the swelling air from his lungs when he feels you more.

"so pretty like this."

dainsleif angles his head towards your direction, winding over your jaw and lips to muffle your like saccharine tasting sobs as the nauseating air surrounding you was beginning to pitch heavier and thicker— cloying, the lack of breathing control teleported you towards bottomless bliss and spirals as your nostrils nose over the penetrating smell of filth and sex, mind overcasted with clouded pleasure.

his hips were relentlessly brushing past the tight ring of your hole and limitless of stamina— slapping erratically into your softness over and over while leaving it to your pretty perfect cunt to gnaw and clench down on his girth to keep him in, languidly stroking him with your spongy insides.

"i love— love you too." you somehow manage to choke out, by how drunk on his cock you appeared to be it was a clear miracle that you were able to squeeze something out at all. your eyes were turning glassy at the stern grip on your neck as his fingers still served as your most dearest necklace— you flutter your lashes open to peevishly admire your lover; how his biceps were wholly tensed and his wet lips widened, his brows eagerly scrunched together as his hips worked in keeping with your own small needy ruts up into his length.

while this alone was almost too much for dainsleif to properly function anymore— he's so terribly addicted and in love with you, it's comical, almost. how you cannot stop drifting your eyes off him, petulantly blinking and pouting at him from under your splashed lashes, all pseudo shy and stimulated, pleased by him and him alone.

even for a man with his level of self restraint, he needed to cum now, all over you— and mark you from the inside out, until you‘re gushing and guzzling up all he gives you, until his heavy cum webs further into your skin and fills your womb with nothing but his whites.

your cunt helplessly pulses around his girth and he nudges his cock closer to you, most prominently deeper until ghosting on to the deepest pleasuring spots in your puffy pussy, settling all the sloppy mess of his seed and your liquids inside of you while the overflow coated him up entirely, leaving nothing untouched.

#dainsleif x reader #dainsleif smut #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact dainsleif x reader #genshin impact dainsleif smut #genshin impact imagines #genshin drabbles #genshin impact drabbles #𖤣𖤥𖠿𖤣𖤥 thirsts'#tw choking #cw choking #fem! reader

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lorei-writes · 9 months ago

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Kiss(es) + Kanetsugu Naoe pls 🥺

Again, congratulations for 1k followers !!

Thank you! <3 I hope you like this >:)

»All the things we choose to share«

Kanetsugu x Reader Fluff 560 words Content Warnings: none

His

His. Sigh for a sigh, you let yourself fall back over the futon and into Kanetsugu’s care, greedy hands grasping at his yukata, pulling at his collar to draw him near and push your worries away. It is a touch for a touch, an unprompted shiver for an unexpected one… a kiss for a kiss, for his lips descent upon yours, soft despite the bluntness of the words they so often set off into the world. Voracious. Starved.

Irrelevant.

You need not talk.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, hold the spun starlight strands at bay as he hoovers over you, a growl surging in his throat. An animal threatened or an animal spurred, your love near whimpers into your flesh, stripped of any of his erudition. Your nails latch onto his shoulders, loosen his restraint and demote him from the rank of the sage – and it terrifies him, and it rouses the most primal of frights lurking deep in the murky waters at the very bottom of his heart. Kanetsugu pulls back at once, attempts to flee from your flame.

He must.

Before he loses himself, his control, he must.

But he cannot.

Yours. You chase after him, yukata dishevelled and your sash undone. You conquer what he has given up, advance at his uncertainty, flank the loathing he subjects himself to, take no hostage-doubts. You make it into his personal collapse, the long hours you have spent studying the Art of War now serving you well in the war against Kanetsugu’s constraints. Groan for a laugh, you have him fall back over the futon and into your care, tender hands pressing at his chest, ascending to the corners of his jaw to force him to meet your gaze. Breath stills in Kanetsugu’s lungs.

“Just one more?” you whisper.

“Just one —”

You do not give him the time to reply.

Waves of hair spill over your shoulder, shielding your love from any prying lanterns and their light. It is just you, just him, and your lips that deliver feather-light affection to his forehead, temples, the very tip of his nose… Long silver lashes fall over his cheeks in a mixture of abashment and surprise. Willing or not, Kanetsugu withholds his eyes from you, closes the wisteria window into his soul.

You are not merciful. It is not allowed.

Kanetsugu frowns.

Yours. The frustration pooling between his brows whets your appetite. The tips of his canines press into his lower lip, his hands straining in their grip over the sheets. You want to unleash his desires, to set him free… So you regroup and retreat to his jaw, scout its very edge, descent further to take over his neck. More teeth than lips, your affection marks its path across his alabaster skin, the cold marble of his flesh buzzing with newly ignited blood. Kanetsugu groans as you suck at his collarbone, thus desecrating the last of his reason.

It is all you have wanted.

It is all you want.

His. Kanetsugu grabs your hips and your world spins, the soft futon cushioning your fall. More beast than a strategist, he scrutinises you, instinct-driven hands taking hold of your face as he forces his mouth upon yours. He growls into you, traces every inch of you… Makes you his, again and again, in a thousand, a thousand and one, ways.

Tag List: @lancelotscloak @violettduchess @the12thnightproject @oda-princess @tele86 @rinaririr @cheese-ception @queengiuliettafirstlady @sh0jun @lucyw260 @starlitmanor-network

Tell me if you'd like to be added to my tag list :)

#kanetsugu naoe #ikesen kanetsugu #ikemen sengoku kanetsugu #ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikemen series #answered #Anonymous

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kingkatsuki · 2 years ago

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Calling Bakugou pretty to his face the first time.

You're sat watching TV, he's to the side of you looking at the screen and you're glancing from the corner of your eyes. The sharpness of his jaw, the curve of his lips, the little crook in his nose where he got hit once, the light scruff on his jaw and the deep red of his eyes now flickering blue reflecting the scene on the TV.

"Whatcha ya staring at?"

"You're so pretty."

He's frowning first, unsure if he heard right coz there's no way you just called him pretty. He's a man, a manly man even, no way is he pretty. But then he looks over and see the fondness in your face, your hand reaching out to thread through his hair and over his cheeks. And he feels himself blush, face heating as he looks away again and bats your hand away half heartedly, mumbling under his breath.

"'M not pretty... you are."

You’ve always thought Bakugou was pretty, even before you started dating. The planted scowl on his face could do nothing to change your mind, no matter how rough around the edges he was.

The first time you told Mina you thought Bakugou was pretty she raised a pink brow in your direction, “Bakugou, pretty?” She scoffed as you watched him lean against the bar beside Kirishima waiting to be served, “He’s a lot of things, but I wouldn’t call him pretty.”

But he was pretty, pretty to you.

Especially in these moments when it was just the two of you, a comfortable silence cradling you both as the television plays softly in the background. You can tell Bakugou’s trying to fight sleep after a long day at work as his thick lashes begin to flutter, his calloused fingers draw absent-minded patterns against your thighs as you drape them over his lap as his lips begin to part as he breathes softly.

“Whatcha starin’ at?” He catches you off guard as he stares at you through half-lidded eyes, and for the first time his question catches you off guard.

Because you’re certain you can’t place your thoughts into words, the question beyond comprehension when you’re staring at someone who is your everything. Furious that even in a world so advanced, there still wasn’t a word to fully convey how beautiful Bakugou Katsuki really is.

Finally you settle on a word, the word that always danced through your mind whenever you thought about him.

“You’re so pretty.”

Even the way he bats your hand away and scoffs at the word, he can’t hide the furious blush on his cheeks or the way his heart betrays him by thudding against his rib cage.

“‘m not pretty, you are.” He grumbles.

But he’d never admit it to you how much he loves when you call him pretty.💕

#shellz I’m sobbing this was wonderful #he’s my pretty princess💕

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moa-broke-me · 11 months ago

Text

Most people's first drag show was at a bar. Percy's was a dinner theatre performance of Swan Lake.

He figured he'd go to support his old university's arts program, after all, he couldn't afford to donate as much as his colleagues did every year, and he figured this'd make up for that. Plus, it was his custody weekend, and he always wanted to do something special for his daughter to make these measly two days a month count.

So, he decided he'd kill two birds with one stone, his daughter swinging her feet on the stool she was sat in, eating her macaroni and cheese. "You like it?" He asked.

She nodded. "It's a lot better than the box stuff you make, daddy. Mama Piper makes hers with adacvo, and I'on like adacvo."

He laughed a bit. "Yeah, it's fun eating away from home, isn't it?" He asked, before taking a bite of his ravioli. It was miles ahead of the canned stuff, no offense to Chef Boyardee.

"Mhm! Uncle Jason, can we go get dessert after?"

Ok, so really it was three birds with one stone. Spend time with his daughter, support the art program, and catch up with Jason.

Jason laughed lightly, jostling the baby carrier he had on his chest and causing Leo's baby to stir. "Zora, they're serving dessert here. I'm sure it'll be much better than anything you could get at a fast food place."

"Really? Even subway cookies?"

"Yes, even subway cookies." He turned back to the baby he was sitting, checking that he was ok. The cherubic little boy was almost two, and could walk, so he didn't really need the carrier, but he liked being strapped in tight. "Raph, you good buddy?"

Raphael cooed up at Jason, reaching up to squish his face. "Coo-kie."

Jason laughed. "Aww, man. This kid is adorable." He reached around the carrier to eat his steak. "Thanks for taking us out here. I know it was like, 50 bucks a person. I can wire you back if you want."

"No, no, it's fine. Just enjoy the ballet." Percy looked over, and Odette had just been captured by the wizard, and the transformation sequence was about to begin. He'd watched both the barbie version and the one from 1994 with Zora before, so he knew the plot, but it was so different seeing it on stage. She had been in a simple loose-fitting blue dress, period-appropriately modest but still short enough to move around in. Now though, once the swirling ribbons fell and the colored smoke and glitter dissipated into the air, Odette was in nothing but a white leotard and black ballet shoes, the leotard strapless and embroidered with pearls and feathers and lace and thin black boning. They were all seated in the front, so he could see every detail, every individual feather draped on the underside of her arm, the otherworldly white lashes and pearl in the middle of the forehead, the thin black swirls of eyeliner on her face and sad, swoopy brows and bold black lipstick forming a pout, like an infinitely more attractive version of an old french mime. The white-dyed tips in ink black hair and rich, dark brown eyes and the gentle outward curve of her nose. The freckles on her shoulders and cheeks, dotting her hauntingly beautiful olive-creme skin. the flat chest and narrow, boyish hips...

He looked at the playbill again, to find the name of this incredible being.

There were two names on the bill, one for uncursed Odette, and one for cursed Odette. He skimmed past the first to get to the second.

Nico diAngelo.

He smiled. "Hey, Jason, you took intro to dance right?" I asked, pointing at the name on the bill. "Do you know her?"

"Him. And yeah, we've been friends for years."

"Wait... Him?" He looked back at the stage. "... So that's a guy up there?"

"Yeah."

"... Wow... He's very pretty."

Zora giggled. "Silly daddy, you're s'posed to say handsome for boys! You only say pretty about girls!"

"He's not, though." I told her, lost in thought. "He's... Pretty. The way girls are pretty."

"Huh... So boys can be pretty too?"

"Yes, dear. They absolutely can."

"So... Does that mean girls can be handsome?"

"Oh yeah." Jason answered. "If you want an example, I can pull up a picture of my sister."

"Jason!" Percy scolded.

Jason snorted. "She'd take that as a compliment and you know it."

#Percico #Ballet AU #I'll continue this if I get 25 notes #but I do warn you #I plan on giving both Nico and Percy food issues #nico di angelo #pjo #percy jackson #jason grace #leo valdez #mortal au #implied pipabeth

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mappingthesky · 8 months ago

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♡ "wait...is this a date?" plane @ nymphia plspls

i wasn’t sure if this was supposed to be an @ or if it was intended to be an ‘&’, but i am very intrigued by the concept of nervous jane needing to know whether this is a date, so here’s this <3

“Was it too much?”

Jane was asking questions, but she wasn’t exactly listening for answers. She seemed to be supplementing those all on her own. It would be annoying, except the conclusions she was drawing were so incorrect that it was almost endearing somehow. Her eyes were elsewhere when she scurried back to the table, anywhere but on Nymphia.

“Jane.”

“I know you said you didn’t want to do nice dinners after we went to Pearla the other night. At least not yet. Or ever. Um,” Jane continued, clearing plates, her brow tightly knotted. “But it really wasn’t that expensive, you know. And even if it wasn’t a date, it was just nice. For me. To get out. Um. With you, of course.”

“Jane.”

“Besides.” Jane carried a stack of serving plates and bowls and miscellaneous silverware past Nymphia. “I really like to cook, believe it or not, so this really wasn’t a big deal, I promise. I probably would’ve done it anyway.” She dropped the dishes in the sink, and started to backpedal. “Not that I would do this if you weren’t here. I mean, I would’ve eaten. But, like, I wouldn’t have done this exactly, because, y’know. That’s a lot of effort. But not too much efffort.”

Nymphia huffed from her chair, staring at the ceiling and waiting for Jane to work through her spiral.

“Or was it not enough?” Jane auto-piloted back to the table, reaching for the wine glasses. Her voice was sort of desperate, sort of defeated, and Nymphia knew she’d inadvertently made Jane much more nervous than she’d anticipated. She felt a little bad, actually, because Jane wasn’t really breathing between sentences. “I just- I know you said you wanted to take things slow and I know you didn’t want to go on dates. Um. Officially. So I just thought it might be nice to stay in and-”

“Jane.”

“No, I’m sorry. It was stupid,” Jane interrupted, a little too embarrassed to let Nymphia get a word in. She went to clear Nymphia’s plate. “We could catch a movie or something if you want to go out, or I could just drive you-“

Nymphia’s hand stopped Jane’s wrist mid-reach. “Jane.”

Jane blinked and paused and finally looked to Nymphia, looking more unsure than Nymphia had ever seen her. All she’d wanted was to scope Jane out, take her time to make sure she was every bit as good and sweet and serious about her as Nymphia had been hoping she was. She didn’t think she would end up completely dismantling her. It was sort of ridiculous how increasingly, obviously frazzled she’d gotten the longer Nymphia had drawn this out. It was also completely, stupidly charming. Most people didn’t care enough to get nervous around Nymphia. Most people wouldn’t invite her over for a home cooked meal after taking her on half a dozen outings she hadn’t let them call ‘dates’. Most people weren’t Jane.

“It wasn’t stupid,” Nymphia took Jane’s hand gently between hers, her fingertips gliding softly over Jane’s knuckles. “It was really nice.”

“Oh!” Jane inhaled sharply. Definitely not relaxed, but breathing. It was an improvement. “Good. I’m glad. Um.” She blinked, processing. “Really?”

Nymphia smiled, her laugh a short puff of air from her nose. Jane’s eyes softened, a look of relief washing over her.

“Really,” Nymphia let her gaze fall upon Jane’s hand, held between her own. “It was the best date I’ve ever been on.”

She glanced up through her lashes. Jane looked a bit awe-struck, a bit in disbelief.

“Wait. So.” Jane blinked, a little hesitant to look Nymphia in the eyes, then did it anyways. “Was- Is this a date?”

Nymphia’s lips twisted to one side, a little pucker of a smile. She nodded slowly, a warmth to her chest as she watched the light flood Jane’s eyes. “Yeah. It is.”

Jane couldn’t hide the megawatt smile that spread across her face as she ducked her chin down, her laugh a nervous flutter of air.

“I didn’t mean to torture you,” Nymphia teased, tilting her head to follow Jane’s eyes. To make sure she hadn’t completely broken her.

“No, it was my pleasure,” Jane said breathily, already a little excited, a glimmer in her eye when she looked over and said, “I’d do it all again.”

#screams I LOVE NERVOUS WRECK JANE #thank you for this anon!!#prompt #she writes #planymphia #wtf is pearla idk. all i could think was la pearla #so yeah restaurant name fs fs

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softshuji · 2 years ago

Text

4:06PM | HAITANI RAN

Summary: Maybe you and Ran are just two broken things, and maybe enough is enough. Likes and reblogs appreciated! Link to my masterlist here!

cw: afab!reader, use of petnames (Princess, baby), implied infidelity (nothing happens), angst with comfort, both Ran and reader cry, mentions of marriage and divorce.

Ran has known for some time but he’s been ready for this conversation for none of it. It should come as a surprise when you sit him down in the garden, grass blowing gently, faint scent of fresh flowers tickling your nose, but it doesn’t.

He sits on the bench in your garden and looks up at you expectantly, as if his heart isn’t crashing and racing in his chest. Every second that prolongs this conversation only serves to make him feel more nauseous, more anxious and he can’t seem to stop the jittering, the bouncing of his knee on the slabbed floor. There are weeds growing between the cracks, little dandelions and shrubs, moss that peeks out between the brown soil, and he watches you absent-mindedly stamp on a patch of moss that pops up between two broken slabs.

‘Ran,’ you say, your skirt swishing in the breeze as you move to sit next to him.

‘Y/n,’ he replies in tandem, and looks at your pinched brow, the corners of your mouth turned down and the visceral urge to kiss your lips, your forehead, is so great that he looks away. He chooses to focus his attention on the cigarette he’s pulling out from a silver tin, engraved with a neat italicised ‘RH’ in the corner. An anniversary present from you many years ago, now worn and lined with scratches and dents and he’s so sentimental that he can’t bring himself to replace it.

Maybe he just loves you too much.

You take his hands in your own. They’re rough, callused, just as worn as his cigarette tin. The same hands that he touches you with, cooks with, kills with. Every line holds a memory of the two of you. You’re fidgeting just like he is, biting your lip anxiously, tapping your foot on the broken slab.

At first you don’t speak, neither of you do. You just stare at each other, at the faces you’ve woken up next to for the last four years and your hearts are both breaking at the same time. If you were to put your head to his chest, you would hear the crack as his heart splinters, the erratic beating of it as it descends into the pit of his stomach.

‘It’s okay…’ he smiles, a watery and thin smile and traces his thumb along your knuckles. His touch is soft as a feather.

‘S’not okay,’ you say and all it takes is the sensation of his hand on your back, comforting as it always is, for your resolve to slip and the tears to gather in the corners of your eyes.

‘It is Princess.’ He presses a kiss to the back of your hand. ‘No matter what, I’m always going to love you.’

Perhaps it is a testament to his grace and the love he has always given so freely to you that allows him to say it, and to smile knowing what you’re about to say, knowing that this is the end of the line.

‘I’m sorry Ran, I’m so sorry.’ The first tear slips from your eye and falls onto your pallid cheek and on instinct, he brushes it away with his thumb.

‘Don’t be Pretty baby, it’s my fault. I should have done better.’

‘No, no, it wasn’t you, it was me- I should have tried to understand you more-’

Truly you could go on all day like that, taking the blame, both of you caught up in the whirlwind of your love, of trying to save the other from more heartbreak. Was that what love was?

‘So this is it huh?’ His eyes are so soft and kind, and the lazy sunlight hits them at just the right angle. Luminescent purple and lilac, framed by dark long lashes. He’s always been beautiful, always been elegant, always been something so ethereal that it’s almost hard to believe he’s real. Especially on the warm Sunday mornings, when the splices of sunlight drift through the slat in the curtain over his shoulder and his lips are just about parted, as if waiting for you to brush yours against them.

You nod your assent and he sighs and it is so broken and tired but he tries for a smile again. You can see his eyes filling with tears and his hands trembling as he puts the cigarette to his lips and inhales a lungful.

Your shoulders shake as you cry and you look so small and vulnerable sitting there in your skirt and flats, with a flower in your hair that he had put there that very morning.

‘I’m sorry- I’m sorry- I’m sorry,’ you say and it’s all you can think as he pulls you to him, holding you close with an arm around your shoulder.

‘You don’t need to keep saying it Pretty.’

‘I do- I should have loved you harder-’ The words are thick and heavy in your throat but all he does is shake his head adamantly.

‘What would that have done huh?’ He rubs your bare arm and feels the goosebumps on your skin. ‘I just want you to be safe and happy, and if that means it isn’t with me, then s’alright.’

And oh how it hurts to say those words when he wants nothing more than to hold you forever, to make love to you every night, wake up to you every morning.

‘Its my fault.’ He kisses the crown of your head and your hair tickles his nose as he does so. ‘Should have been here more often, should have cared for you more.’

‘No-’ You shake your head and the sob sitting at the base of your throat trickles out as you wipe your nose.

‘It is. I’m an idiot-’

‘Ran-’

‘S’alright Y/n, let me finish.’

This is by far the hardest thing he’s ever done, the scariest and for the first time in his life he feels the visceral fear, the terrifying sensation of being out of his depth and adrift. You’re slipping through his fingers and there is nothing he can do about it but he'd rather die than force you to stay where you’re unhappy.

‘I shouldn’t have been so absent. I did this, and you deserve better. So much better.’ There is no playfulness to his tone, no sarcasm and that’s what saddens you the most.

The tears are fast and free-flowing and you hiccup and sob against his chest, the spike of anxiety that gnaws at his stomach only growing tenfold when you clutch his shirt for support.

He had known in his heart that things would never work between you, because he had always loved you more, had loved you enough for both of you when things started to change. Sometimes you felt selfish and guilty and the knot of self-loathing in your stomach only seemed to double every time he gently caressed your back as he passed, or told you he loved you when you lay together at night, sleep pressing on your eyelids like a vice.

You don’t correct him. Maybe because he’s right, or maybe because it’s pointless. Maybe because love is so complicated and neither of you really understand.

You love him. He loves you. Once you’d thought that the simple act of loving was enough to maintain you, that love could sustain the relationship when other things could not, that the days and weeks spent away working would not add up, that you would not crave and miss him like you did. He loves you, but he doesn’t choose you.

‘I’m an idiot,’ he says and mentally curses himself.

Did the fact that this conversation was weeks in the making make it any easier to have? No it didn’t. Despite the fact that this was the end of the line for you, you still want him to stay. No matter what happens, you will always look for him at night and perhaps that codependency, that you once thought was love, was exactly what love wasn’t. You didn’t know.

‘You can keep everything,’ he says, taking a shuddering breath. You need him to be strong, he thinks. You need him to be sturdy when you cannot be. So he will. ‘Whatever you want you can have. You’ll always be my Princess.’

‘Ran…’ You don’t mean for it to sound so desperate and full of yearning, and perhaps it’s because you’ve been crying over this for weeks, that you’ve lain awake on the nights he wasn’t here, but a choked sob rips its way from your throat.

What was the issue here? That he didn’t love you? Or that he did and that that love wasn’t enough to make you love him in return? Yes it was true he had accepted you, every part of you. The part of you that was a dreamer, the part of you that would rather die than show it. Was that not what love was? Acceptance of a sort?

All his life he had spent climbing this insurmountable mountain. But he would jump off in a heartbeat if it meant he’d meet you at the bottom.

There were times of course, when you could caress the concept of happiness with gentle but tentative fingers, when you could reach out and touch, ever so lightly, that blanket of comfort that hung in the sky just out of reach. Those times when happiness was a just about perceivable thing. But it wasn’t enough. Because no matter how hard you tried, the puzzle pieces just didn’t fit,as if you were knocking together two things that shouldn’t be there, that wouldn’t fit together.

‘It’s Rindou isn’t it?’ he asks and instead of feeling the numbing fear of being found out, you only nod against his chest, resigning yourself to whatever he might say next.

‘I’m not mad Y/n. Maybe once I would have been but I’m not. I love you, and I love my Brother.’ Even though he’s putting on a brave face, his heart is breaking. His lips are a firm line. ‘He deserves you, and you deserve him.’

It would be easier if he was green with jealousy, if he was angry and thrashing and hurtful, if he just hated you because hate was so easy, would be so easy to swallow and accept and maybe you could leave him knowing he would still be whole.

‘Ran I’m sor-’

‘Don’t Y/N-’ he interjects and his grip around your arm tightens just a slight. Despite how much you loathe yourself for this, and he himself too, neither of you wants to back out, to go back to pretending.

‘How did you know?’ Your voice is so small, muffled by the fabric of his shirt. Are you prepared for the answer? No, not at all, but you still need to hear it.

He looks down at you nestled against him and gives a weak but knowing smile. ‘I know Rindou better than he knows himself. Saw the way he looked at you, and you looked at him.’

Was there a way he could have prevented this? Maybe. Maybe if he was less neglectful and Rindou didn’t have to pick up the pieces every time the job took priority, if he wasn’t always the one in your company giving you the love you should have received from him.

‘Why did you never say anything?’

‘I wanted to,’ he says. ‘But I didn’t want to have that conversation.’

‘Is that it?’

Say it Ran, you plead mentally. Tell me you didn’t love me enough to care. Say something horrible to me. Punish me for it.

‘And I didn’t want to take away someone who made you happy when I was too stupid and neglectful to do so.’ That lump in his throat is so thick with unshed tears that he feels like it’s choking him. He clears his throat, hoping the hoarseness of his voice can be mistaken for his cigarette smoking and not the fact that his ribs are crushing his heart.

The gravity of the situation and his words hit you like a sledgehammer to the chest. This is happening. You are separating after four years of marriage and the weight of the years descends on you like a stormcloud.

You whine against him and he only kisses your forehead.

‘Why do you not hate me?’ Your voice cracks and your eyes sting for the umpteenth time.

‘Could never hate you Princess. Ever.’

It’s a testament to the years, to the fact that experience in love has taught him so much that’s softened him into who he is now. Still playful, still devious, but with a heart that lets in love, your love and only yours. It had taken so long to get to that point and perhaps that’s what hurts the most. The time spent trying to build something, the time you both feel you’ve wasted considering the circumstances.

You love him, you do. But you’re not in love with him. Not any longer.

Not since Rindou.

There was the crux of the issue.You could tell Rindou loved you too. You were old enough to know what it meant when his gaze lingered after you when you left a room, the attentiveness in his actions, the deep cadence of his voice that softened when he spoke to you, the smile he reserved for the days when he kept you company by the firelight. Too many times the light had caught the softness of his lips and you had wanted nothing more than to close the distance and kiss him outright. You never did, and Rindou loved his Brother too much to do it himself.

Shame boils in your gut.

‘I’ll call the lawyers tomorrow,’ Ran whispers and removes his arms from around you, opting to take your hand in his instead. You’re grateful for the fact that he’s taken the initiative, realizing that maybe this is how it’s always been. Him racing ahead and you trailing behind after him, driftwood lost at shore.

‘Ran?’ Your voice quivers on his name.

‘Yeah?’

‘Thank you…’

‘For what Princess?’ He doesn’t expect to be thanked for anything, least of all during the moment where he’s breaking your heart and you’re breaking his.

For some of the best days of my life. For being my first love. For loving me when I felt unlovable, in the moments I was unlovable.

‘Everything,’ you say and even though you want to cry, to sob, to wrench open a tear in the sky, you smile at him and the tension dissipates a little when he returns the smile, albeit hesitantly. Because even though you’re both in pain, you know that it doesn’t last.

Maybe love between people like the two of you is eternal. Maybe there is no end. Maybe there will always be a string of fate that ties you together.

a/n: I actually wrote this six months ago lol, how d'ya like it guys? I may write a part two (I have an idea already) depending on how you like this. I promise I do like Ran even if I'm constantly hurting him. I hope you all like it!

taglist: @reiners-milkbiddies @mxnjiros @islascafe @swqllen @prettyiolanthe @sugusshi @wotakuhime @snakegentleman @severellamahottub @haitaniapologist @lonnie19 @nafarsiti @bejeweled-night-33 @crown5 @clovly @oikawascutie @the-travelling-witch @orchid3a @rottingreveries @qiiuusoup @hoetani @sinfulseashell @welcome-to-the-internet-it-sucks @obitohno @tetsutits @burnishedcrown @sweet-seishu @megshikigami

#tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #ran haitani #haitani ran #haitani rindou #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo rev x reader #tokrev #haitani ran x reader #tr

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