#not sure how her feet work tbh

[museganjin]

i saw the tag "lunette kinda looks like stewie from family guy here. sorry" on this post and took it as a challenge

@starrysharks

[allbark-no-bite]

good boy.

art donaldson x reader (wc: 2.9k)

summary: as Art’s personal physical therapist, it’s your job to fix what Tashi has torn apart, by whatever means necessary. or in which Art just needs some TLC

warnings: 18+ smut, it could be worse tbh, mentions of disordered eating

author’s note: i’m back ig?? im out of uni for the summer and challengers has me in a chokehold. Art Donaldson the man that you are

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You're standing just within earshot of the doorway, passing a sanitary wipe over one of the tables in the athlete treatment room when you hear the door abruptly open. Tashi storms in with a purpose and Art trails meekly behind her. Even if you had been clueless to how the match had gone rather than on the sidelines beside Tashi not even twenty minutes ago, you could have guessed by the hard line of her mouth that Art was in for it. Not that her displeased scowl was much different from her usual scowl, but you'd been around long enough to know the difference.

She stops abruptly, and Art heels obediently as Tashi turns around to face him. "I need you to tell me when you're going to fucking get it together so that I can stop wasting my time."

Weary and sweat soaked, Art just stares at her with that pitiful look on his face and says nothing in reply. His blue eyes solemnly take in her harsh disappointment as though beyond used to it. At this point it's not all that foreign to you either.

"You may as well be fucking asleep out there," she snaps.

This time his mouth opens. "I- I'm just tired-" he begins, although there's hardly any argue to his voice at all.

"No, I'm tired, Art," Tashi interjects. "Do you have any idea how much fucking work I've put into getting you back onto the court this past year?! I've done everything! The least you could do go out there and try to act like I've done anything for you at all!"

Art swallows, the slight frown on his face deepening. "I am. I just- I don't-"

Before he can even finish his sentence. The open palm of Tashi's hand connects with his cheek as she pops the left side of his face. Art closes his mouth. You pretend to concentrate on wiping down the table. It's not the first time you've witnessed one of these conversations but it still feels private, like you shouldn't be here. You keep wiping the table.

Understanding that anything else he says is only going to make Tashi angrier, Art resigns to once again watching her in silence. His blue eyes are sad. The usually fair skin of his cheek is tinted pink where she popped him. Although it wasn't very hard, you're sure it still hurt him all the same.

"Quit wasting my time," is all she says before she finally turns and leaves, walking right past you and out the other door. You hold your breath as she passes you. Art watches her go but makes no move to follow. You release an audible sigh. It's been a frustrating day for everyone. As Art's personal trainer, physical therapist, and close friend, you felt every loss, every ache and pain, every bad play. And there seemed to be a lot of those lately.

Art is still standing there, watching the closed door that Tashi left though.

Not knowing how to break the silence, you finally pat the freshly sanitized treatment table. "C'mon," you call gently, as though beckoning to a wounded dog.

It takes a moment for him to budge, but eventually he does, his disheartened spirit apparent in the way he walks over. Used to the usual routine, he tugs his damp shirt off over his head as he takes a seat, the lean muscles of his torso flexing as he does so. You allow yourself to ogle at him, only for a brief moment before stepping in between the bracket of his knees. Gently, you cradle his chin, tipping his head back to look up at you as your thumb smooths over the redness of his cheek. His blue eyes blink up at you, sad and dog-like.

"It wasn't terrible," you reassure him. "You had surgery six months ago. You're still getting your feet back underneath you. Most people wouldn't have come back." You're right. The still-pink scars on his shoulder are still fresh on your mind. The stitches weren't even out before Tashi had him in physical therapy. Even though his medical team had released him, it was still a bit early to start doing rehab so soon after surgery, Art's comfort being your biggest concern. But when Tashi wants something, she gets it.

Wordlessly, Art sighs, the weight of his head settling into your palm as he finally lets go of the tension he'd been carrying. It was always like this. You fixing what Tashi had torn apart. You understood where Tashi was coming from. Art needed a firm voice in his training, and you had a lot of respect for the way she put her foot down and never let up, not even once. But there was only so many times you could kick a dog while he was down.

So if Art needed someone to coddle him, you would coddle him.

He trusts you. He needs you, is what Tashi had told you when she asked you to stay on as his trainer full time. The three of you had been in the same year at Stanford all those years ago, Tashi and Art on the tennis team and you helping out as a student trainer as part of a class requirement. Three peas in a pod, the trio of you were. Of course then they both graduated, leaving you to finish up your schooling, meanwhile Art set off to go pro.

A few years later, once Tashi officially took on the position as Art's coach, she began building his team, and that's where you came in. You were hesitant at first.

'I already lost to you once, Tashi. I won't come in second to you again.'

She had paused on the other end of the line. Back in your Stanford days, it was obvious to anyone with eyes that you were head over heels in love with the blonde tennis player. But loving Art was like accepting the participation ribbon for a game you knew you weren't going to win in the first place. It was like standing next to the podium, just lucky enough to be included in the picture while Tashi and tennis took first and second place. And so you let him go.

'I'm not asking you to. This is different.'

Your hand slips from his face, and he forces his eyes open.

“Have you eaten?" you ask, stepping away in order to put some distance between the two of you and look for the granola bars that you keep especially for him. The gels were good sources of quick fuel in between sets, but they were hardly enough to even begin to make up for the calories he burned while playing.

Slowly, Art shakes his head, but he makes no move to take the snack from your hand when you offer it to him. Ever since his injury, nutrition became all the more important. So much to the point that every single thing that he consumed was mapped out to the exact calorie. Although he would never admit it, any sort of change in this routine made him incredibly anxious. Some days it was better not to cause him the anxiety than to force him.

Today, you insistently hold out the bar until he begrudgingly takes it from your hand. You don't move until you've seen him tear open the package and take a bite.

"Were you still feeling tight?" you ask as you walk around the table, stopping at the slouch of his turned back. You reach out to grasp at the joint of his neck and shoulder, your thumb smoothing over the kinesiology tape that's peeling away at the base of his neck.

He half turns his head to glance back at you. "You watched the match. You tell me."

His response is meant to be snippy, but it comes out more defeated than anything. To be fair, you've been his trainer long enough to know that if something was bothering him physically, you would have picked up on it.

"I want to hear it from you."

"I felt fine."

Your left hand follows suit on the other side of his neck, and you use both of your thumbs to apply pressure to what you assume will be a tense spot along the upper part of his traps. Predictably, Art groans at the attention. The muscles of his back contract as he fights the urge to shake you off. Relaxing the muscle hurts as much as it feels good. Besides his obvious discomfort, the rest of his body has gone lax under your touch. His shoulders have dropped at least an inch, and his chin has fallen to rest against his chest.

"Finish your granola bar," you reprimand him, your firm fingers working across his back until you find another spot that nearly has him jerking away. He releases a whine but obediently takes another bite of the bar. This time he finishes it before you have to remind him again.

You spend a few more minutes torturing him before you're satisfied that a majority of the tension has left his shoulders.

"Okay, good boy," you murmur, leaning forward so that your chest is close enough to brush against his back. One of your hands trails up to squeeze the back of his neck reassuringly.

You're close enough to hear him swallow at the name. The skin on the nape of his neck shivers despite how hot he still is from the match.

"Was I?" he asks timidly. "Good today?"

'I can be his coach. Or I can be the person he cries to after a bad day. But I can't be both. That's why he needs you."

Without removing your hand from his neck, you walk around the table so you're standing in front of him. Art widens the spread of his legs so that you can stand between them. His chin is still pressed to his chest, blue eyes focused on the ground.

"Art," is all you say, shifting your grip on his neck to tug lightly at his golden blonde hair. At your voice, he lifts his head just enough to look up at you through the pale wisps of his eyelashes. The irises of his blue eyes shine are wet with uncertainty.

Your fingers loosen their grip to allow your nails to scratch at his scalp. "You're good, Art. You'll always be good."

Art twists his head to nuzzle his cheek along the inside of  your outstretched arm. His lips kiss the crook of your elbow. He swallows again. "Even if I don't play tennis?"

You can tell the question's been bothering him, eating at his nerves, and messing up his game. You know him well enough to know that retirement isn't what he wants, not really. At least not right now. What he wants is the reassurance that it's going to be okay if he can't swing the comeback.

"Look at me."

He lingers a moment longer with his lips pressed lovingly against your skin before he reluctantly shifts his gaze up to you. His look is anticipatory but reserved, as if to preemptively conceal his disappointment should you choose to crush his heart with your answer.

His fear is understandable. Art's relationship with Tashi has always been entirely built off of his tennis career. By being the driving force behind his success, Tashi has vicariously lived out the life she would have had had her injury never happened. Without tennis, Art has nothing left to offer her. He knows that if he gives up tennis, he loses Tashi.

Your relationship with Art was a little less conditional. Hell, you'd been in love with him since the first time you'd laid eyes on him at Stanford. You can still picture him standing there on the court, barely nineteen, scrawny, nervous smile, backwards cap over his strawberry blonde hair. Before he was the Art Donaldson. But when Tashi had stepped into the picture, you figured that was where your fairytale ended.

"I don't love you because of tennis. I love you because you're kind, and thoughtful, and you're passionate about what you do." You smile a bit before adding, "And you're my good boy."

The name turns him bashful again, and he's quick to turn and hide his smiling face against your arm, only the flushed tips of his ears visible. "[Y/n]," he mumbles, likely meaning to be threatening, but it doesn't come out that way.

Art Donaldson lived to be praised.

You laugh, pulling him closer so that his face is held against your chest. The hand that you don't have threaded through his hair trails up the muscle of his defined quad. "You're my good boy. Aren't you, baby?"

Art whines, squirming when your hand reaches the apex of his thigh and hovers over the forming bugle of his shorts. He's not quite there yet, his dick only half chubbed up in interest, but given the day that he's had, you won't make him wait.

"Please?" he mumbles, his face still buried into your collarbone, as if attempting to curling into you, like a small child needing their parent to hold them for comfort.

You rake your nails lightly up the inside of his thigh. "What, baby?"

Not only did Art liked to be praised, but he was masochist even on his worst days.

"Want you to touch me," he mumbles, his voice muffled by your shirt. "Please."

Your hand still scratching through his hair, you press a kiss to the side of his head, unable to suppress your smile at his timid politeness and how it never seems to fail him. The only time he ever resembled anything remotely voracious was on the court.

Palm finding his tented shorts, you cup him through the fabric. Art responds immediately to your touch, his hips shifting further into your grasp. You continue to pet him through his shorts, appreciating the way you can feel him actively responding to your touch.

His nails dig into the padding of the treatment table when you give his now fully hard dick a less than sympathetic squeeze. His breath is hot as he pants against your collarbone, alternating between laving open mouthed kisses to your skin and whining when you pause fondling him just to feel his hips rut up into your palm.

Art was so in control on the tennis court, that often after a match, putting the control into someone else's hands was just what he needed.

When his hips start to stutter, you ease up but continue to stroke him through his shorts. The front of his shorts are damp with the musk of residual sweat and precum.

His breath is shallow—anticipatory.

"Gunna come?" you ask softly, speaking into the blonde mess of his hair, cradling him. He right there, you can tell by the lackluster buck of his hips, his building fatigue, and the change in his breathing.

"Can I? —Please?" Art asks breathily. He hiccups out the last part, his voice catching.

"You know you don't have to ask."

There's a brief pause, as if coming to the realization, before he meekly murmurs, "I know.

It should be sad really, his unwavering obedience, but there are two sides to Art, two polar extremes. On the court, every match, every set, every debilitating second is up to him. No one else can help him out there, and up until about a year ago, he played like it. That was the side of Art Donaldson that Tashi wanted. After the match is a different story. In private, Art needed someone to do the thinking for him, to pull him into a reality where he could believe that it didn't matter whether he won or lost. Tashi had not the sympathy nor the patience for that kind of fragility.

Art comes with a brief cry into your chest, his body arching into yours. Your hand palms at his pulsing dick until he's oversensitive and pulling away. When you relent, the front of his shorts are sticky and wet.

Finally, Art lifts his face from the safety of your chest. His blue eyes are glossed over, but it's an improvement from the detached look they held ten minutes ago. His cheeks are flushed, a mixture of his own embarrassment and satisfaction. 

You can't help the soft smile that creeps onto your face at the look of him, and immediately Art is abashedly trying to hide his face again, his own smile starting to appear. Before he can, you bring your hands back up to cradle his face, thumbs wiping away the wetness from under his eyes. This time he lets you.

His eyes study your face for a second, admiring you, appreciating the love he has for you.

“I don’t want to play tennis anymore.”

You can’t tell if it’s more of a statement or a confession. Either way, you know he’s telling you the absolute truth.

“Okay,” you reply softly, not hint of judgement in your voice. Maybe some disappointment, but that was understandable.

Retirement would be a kindness. Art would finally put back on some healthy weight, start smiling again, put on a real, actual smile. You could already see it, a nice house for the two of you to settle down in, with a picket fence and a dog in the backyard, the kind of things the two of you would have never had time for on tour.

Tennis had brought the two of you together, but it wouldn’t end you.

[guillotine-drop]

Ranking New Vegas companions by their alcohol tolerance

Arcade - 6/10: Hear me out, Arcade is a fairly big guy and between his genetics and the work he does, he’s bound to have some weight behind him. Do I think he’s going toe to toe with the average Wrangler patron? No, but I do think you could sit him down with a bottle of wine and by the end he’d be juuuuust tipsy enough to follow you into that Nightstalker cave with minimal complaints.

Boone - 4/10: Despite being a miserable boot boy with a dead wife, I think Boone is on the lower end of alcohol tolerance solely because he’s a sniper; I feel as though the job description means that you can’t exactly be swaying with your shots, so his tolerance would be piss poor. You could probably get him to drink a 12 pack with you, but just watch out: he might start showing a human emotion, and that’ll be uncomfortable for both of you.

Cass - 8/10: There’s something to be said about the fact that you need at least 8 Endurance to be able to beat her at the drinking contest to recruit her. Obviously she can hold her liquor, but I WILL dock points for being sloppy about it. (Girl how did you manage to wake up with a random soldier after the battle??? Don’t you know what your mailman looks like???) Share the whiskey but make sure you loop her belt around a pipe or something so she doesn’t run off.

Veronica - 3/10: I love Veronica. I love her so much. I don’t think she can hold her liquor to save her life. I think Ronnie is a ‘3 drinks and she’s out’ kind of girl. That being said, I also think that she could probably get through most of a box of hard seltzers before she starts feeling it, and I think she’d shotgun them with her Power Fist to be funny.

Raul - 10/10: He’s a ghoul, he’s old, and he’s miserable 95% of the time. I think if you handed him a bottle of Dubious Liquid he wouldn’t even hesitate to drink it. I think he’s drank rubbing alcohol just to see what would happen. I think if you give him a totally intact, unopened, top shelf bottle of tequila, he’d have to excuse himself to the other room for a minute. Definitely the one I’d want to go drinking with.

Lily - 15/10: Mamaw’s 7 feet tall and 500 pounds of sheer muscle with a super mutant metabolism, I don’t even think conventional liquor would affect her tbh. I think she’s drinking that Jacobstown Moonshine that melts spoons and eats through glass. I think she could drink a can of turpentine and it would be like a White Claw. Go grandma, but for the love of god not to the bar. I do NOT have the caps for that.

Rex - 6/10: Okay hear me out (again). He’s an old as hell cyber dog who went through multiple owners, he’s probably got more metal than organs, and the last guys who had him were Elvis impersonators who do fuckall all day but day drink and watch each other do cabaret. You look me in the face and tell me that dog hasn’t had more booze pass through his system than the average wastelander. It’s still only a 6/10 because he shouldn’t be getting it, but are you gonna tell him no? Look at that face. And lower your glass.

ED-E - 0/10: Please do not pour liquor into the orb.

[landograndprix]

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐭 ♧ 𝐥𝐧⁴ - iii

❥ your peaceful life gets disturbed by your little brothers teammates in the worst and possibly best ways possible

❥ while your friendship with lando blossoms, your relationship with oscar goes down hill

❥ a good ol' he fell first, she fell harder fic with piastri!reader. Comments and reblogs are welcome ♡

part ii - part iv

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evaharris posted to their story

oscarpiastri replied to your story

oscarpiastri

is that y/n and lando?

is lando still in Australia?

is that y/n?

evaharris

Ossie relax 😂

The first picture is ness and her bf, second picture is indeed lando so he's still in Australia yes

oscarpiastri

And y/n?

evaharris

Was here as well 😉

oscarpiastri

Why?

evaharris

What do you mean why? She's out friend oscar 😂

oscarpiastri

I don't like that she's there with my teammate

evaharris

First of all, nothing happened or is happening between them. Out of all people, you should know that your big sister is going to end up as a single crazy cat lady. She's not looking for a relationship and second of all, even if she ends up with your teammate, there's not a lot you can say or do

I love you ossie but you don't get to decide who your sister is hanging out with and who she wants to date 😉

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y/npiastri

liked by landonorris, nessieness and 1,034 others

y/npiastri cats, hikes, cars, rain, monaco. 🇲🇨

tagged: oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri the weather is usually much better than this, you brought the bad weather with you

↳ landonorris mate, what do you mean? she's absolute sunshine

oscarpiastri get out

nessieness no, he's right. y/n's literal sunshine 😍

y/npiastri not really sure how to feel about this tbh, kinda cringe

nessieness oh look at me I'm y/n piastri and I can't take a compliment 😔

y/npiastri always better than that big fat ego of yours 😉

landonorris yeah you tell em love

nessieness @.oscarpiastri help me, they're ganging up on me

oscarpiastri I need 5 to 7 work days to progress all of this myself

oscarmemes just siblings on a hike 🥰

eveharris what a surprise, look who's found the cats

↳ y/npiastri stop cat shaming me

eveharris who stopped you from stealing them and putting them in your suitcase?

y/npiastri mum 😔

mariasmith have fun in Monaco! Are you with friends or family?

↳ y/npiastri with the family ☺

mariasmith well tell Oscar he needs to come back to Australia and that we miss him!

landonorris you didn't tell me you were going to be in Monaco

↳ oscarpiastri why would she?

y/npiastri I did but it's not my fault you can't read

landonorris you're hurting my feelings

oscarpastry Oscar's going to have a meltdown lmao

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head over feet taglist: @loloekie @charlesgirl16 @lilipiggytails @teenwolf01 @zucchinimalfoy @pumpkiinpasties @2bormaybenot @carpediem241108 @emyladia @lauralarsen @evie-119 @creamsteam3 @itsjustfranzi @ririyulife @tinyhrry @the-untamed-soul @jasminesacademia @ijustgomessitupx @kissesandmartinis @formulaal @writingworlds @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @ssararufoni @norwayxo @sitwins @kqliie @fyegyall @awritingtree @chezmardibum @hiireadstuff @sesamepancakes @likedbygaslyy @saaschiep81 @lemon-lav @jule239 @a1leexxa @destinyg237 @phantomxoxo @thatsusbitch @sarahkaliii @blacksoul-27 

[simpee9000]

I love your “not just friends” series🥹 im obsessed! Im hoping to see more I love it soooooooooooo muchhhh!!!!!!! Even telling my friends to read it

But I saw a bakugo headcanon by another anon about him having a crush which I wanna add a spin on, what if he rejected this said crush back in middle school but developed feelings after xD I find it funny

Thank you !!! I'm glad you enjoy it so much!

And that is literally Katsuki Bakugo, can't see him not doing it tbh. (This was also a lot longer then I planned for it to be- I just started typing and here we are- 1k)

He isn't confused about a lot of things in life but his feelings definitely stump him. He tries to analyze other people and how they react to people, but the dots just don't connect. He hears people rave on and on about how cute their crush is, but he just doesn't get it.

It's not that he hasn't been introduced to it either. I mean, it's middle school. Everyone is crazy about dating someone even if it's just to hold their stupid hand. Bakugo didn't get it, he honestly didn't want to get it. Sure he wanted to understand it, but only so he could know a weakness or some shit. He didn't want the gushy feelings or anything such.

Rejecting girl after girl was normal for him, people just loved how great he was. But after the first year of middle school that stopped. Mainly because of how rudely he rejected every girl in the past, but also because of you.

You got extremely close with him rather quickly, working your way into his life and friend groups. It was rare to see you away from each other.

Yet when you confessed to him in your last year of middle school, he stood still. It was the only confession he hesitated on. And while you swayed on your feet, anxious for a reply, he tried to cough up any words possible.

But the only ones that came out were. "You're not special."

In the most blunt way possible, he crushed your dreams. With the way he was looking at you, it was like he couldn't fathom the thought that you thought you were good enough for him, different than all the other girls. So you choked up any spiteful things you wanted to say and nodded before walking off.

He didn't necessarily like you then, but the thought didn't seems gross. So when he watched you walk away, he shrugged it off. You'd talk to him tomorrow definitely.

When tomorrow came and went, he was waiting for you to show up by his side at any second. But of course, you never did. You waited a day before showing up to class, but when you did you stuck near your other friends.

It stayed that way too. You only nodded at him after you finished middle school, a small final goodbye.

So it was rather unfortunate that one of your friends happened to be Izuku. It was a hard-built friendship, but he's very forgiving.

You came and visited the dorms often, encouraged by his mother to help him get by easier.

Bakugo hated it, you never even looked his way.

When he googled his feelings he didn't want to believe the words typed on his screen. It was all saying he was jealous. He'd never been jealous of anything, especially nothing Deku had.

Eventually, Kirishima pointed it out, commenting on the glare he was giving Midoriya. He also called him out the next day, when he kept glaring despite you not being there.

The day he cracked was after he fought Deku, after being yelled out by Aizawa he and Deku were told to wait.

Bakugo mentioned your name in a mumble at first before Deku questioned it. "She like you or some shit?"

"What?!"

"You fuckin' heard me," he spat back.

"No!" Deku scrambled for a reason. He knew you had a crush on Bakugo before, but you haven't mentioned it in a while, "Do you?"

"Do I like you?!"

"NO! HER!"

Bakugo's aggression faded as he thought. Everyone was saying that. Kirishima, his dad, and now Deku. He gave a small shrug because he was unsure.

"She still asks about you," Deku decided to say, rather than poke the bear.

"Hm."

"Wanting to know if you're okay. After the sludge, and after.. well you know," Deku mumbled.

The door opened before anything else could be said, but even if it didn't, they both knew the conversation was over.

Feeling the commonly named butterflies in his stomach, at just the thought of you thinking of him still, was odd. It was an entirely new feeling. After googling, once again, he came to terms with the fact that he finally felt all the gushy feelings that everyone else got in middle school. The ones you used to have for him, hopefully still do.

He still waited a year to act on his conclusion first. But he still slowly tried to weave his way back into your life. Choosing to sit next to you when you visited, to othering you the remote.

Everything was without words for a while. Almost a year in he was forced to talk to you often. All conversations being awkward and strained.

Confessing was a different story, it was the last day you could visit before it was officially summer break before the second year. Everyone was all sat around watching TV, people leaving before they got too tired. Surprisingly, Bakugo and you were the last people in the living room. He didn't want to miss a second of your presence because he knew he couldn't see you during summer. He was so glad Aizawa let you stay late.

His head snapped away from the TV when you stretched to stand, silently grabbing your stuff.

"What are you doing?" he spoke before thinking.

You looked stunned, he never talked to you without you talking first, "It's late, I should go. Plus is it not past your bedtime?"

He glared at your joke before looking at the clock. It was 2:54a.m, you asked him out at 2:54 p.m in middle school.

"Do you still?"

"What?" you switched your weight onto one foot, crossing your arms confused.

"In middle school," he sighed, "do you still?"

"You're gonna have to be more specific."

"Have feelings and shit."

He still wasn't looking at you, but out of the corner of his eyes, he could see how you froze.

"I don't know how that's relevant," you huffed, embarrassed and annoyed that he'd be so cruel to bring up the rejection again.

"I do."

"Do what? Know how it's relevent? Of course you do, it's your brain-"

"Have feelings and shit," he mumbled, crossing his arms at how irated you sounded. He was finally making his move and you seemed pissed as hell.

You barked out a laugh, muffling it with your own hand, "You can't think I'm that stupid, right?"

"I'm being serious," he looked at you straight on for the first time. He was always easiest to read when you could see his eyes, and he looked nervous. Out of all the emotions you've seen on him, this wasn't one.

"Oh."

He sighed and looked down, "Don't gotta say anything, you can spend the night in the common room. No one will care," he pushed himself off the couch, turning to leave.

"Bakugo," you called out softly.

"Hm?"

"I might," your voice was shaky, "but I need to think about it. Know that you're not fucking with me or something."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay. Take your time. You have my number."

[guiltyasdave]

a long time coming

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

summary: You were supposed to go to a concert with your best friend. You end up going with her dad instead.

word count: ~1.1k

tags/warnings: best friend's dad!Dave, fluff, allusions to smut, huge age gap, able-bodied reader, no use of y/n, please be warned: Dave has inappropriate (though reciprocated) thoughts about his daughter's best friend - if that makes you uncomfortable, don't read

a/n: daphne @sizzlingcloudmentality and i were freaking out about those new photos of pedro, and because daphne apparently wants me dead, she said that it's giving bfd!dave who's at a concert with you and also provided me with a snippet that still has me in a chokehold and that's part of this story now. i am already experiencing heavy brainrot because i'm going to the eras tour in three (3) days and this was the final nail in my coffin tbh. i should be working on my dress, but instead i did this. the most self indulgent shit i've ever written lmao, please enjoy <3

follow @guiltyasdavenotifs for fic updates and find my whole masterlist here :)

dividers by @saradika-graphics <3

“Please, daddy? Please?” 

Dave sighs, rubbing a hand over his forehead. Molly’s hoarse voice keeps pleading with him before it dissolves into a fit of coughs. 

With a groan, she lets her head fall against the pillows, wide eyes still trained on him. 

“No one else wants to go, and I can’t let her go alone, I’d feel terrible. Please?” 

She pouts at him, knowing fully well that her father doesn’t deny her anything when she looks at him like this. 

“Fine. If you’re sure that she’s okay with it?” 

“She is! I already asked her.”

Dave cocks a brow at his daughter, earning himself an exhausted but triumphant grin. 

“Don’t look at me like that. It will be fun!”

Admittedly, Dave really has much more fun than he expected when his daughter all but begged him to accompany her best friend to the concert that she wanted to go to herself before she got sick. 

He knows most of the songs, has been witness to you and Molly singing along to the music while dancing through his kitchen often enough. It’s not bad music by any means, and the show is nothing short of spectacular. 

It’s not the reason he’s enjoying himself so much though. He’s barely watching the show, eyes only occasionally flicking towards the stage. 

His gaze is fixed on you, has been since before the show even started. Watching you interact with other fans, beaming smiles and giggles, eagerly exchanging bracelets, excitedly cooing at the especially pretty ones. 

Meeting your eyes when you turned to him, not able to suppress his own smile at the sparkle in them. Suppressing the flicker of something in his chest when your fingers wrapped around his wrist, tugging it closer to put a few bracelets on him as well. You don’t seem to notice the faint blush that’s rising up in his cheeks at the unexpected touch. 

He’s watching you bouncing on your feet seconds before the show starts, snaps a few photos of the pure joy on your face without you noticing. Just to send them to you later, having enough experience from being the father of two daughters to know how much you’ll love them. After that, he’ll delete them from his own phone. Of course he will. 

He’s watching you dance, your body moving to the beat of the music, your lips forming every word. Your silhouette shimmering with the lights reflecting off your dress. It’s mesmerizing. You dance with the girls beside you sometimes, shouting lyrics at each other. Other times, you turn to him. He doesn’t protest when you take his hands, starts moving with you without a second thought, starts singing the words that he knows along with you. You’re laughing, your eyes shining with pure happiness. It’s intoxicating, and he wants more, wants all of it, wants to be part of that happiness. He doesn’t remember the last time he smiled this wide, the last time his body felt this light. 

It takes a long time, longer than it should, until he remembers why this is bad. Until the weight comes crashing back into him. Until he remembers that he shouldn’t feel like this with you. 

You’re so much younger than him. His daughter’s friend. His daughter who asked him to come here with you, because she trusted that you’d be safe with him. 

Your brow furrows when you catch his eye and notice the change in his expression. No. He wants you to enjoy yourself, doesn’t want to be the reason for any kind of worry for you right now. He allows himself to drink in your energy right now, to let a smile grow on his face again. 

There’s no harm in indulging just for one night. Just a little bit. No one has to know. Least of all you. 

So he keeps singing with you, keeps letting you move with him. Keeps watching. 

It’s easy, being with you, talking to you. Effortless in a way that he’s not used to. 

It’s just because you’re at his house more often than not, going wherever Molly goes. It has to be. 

But it’s different, your giggles ringing out in the confines of his car, not mixed with his daughter’s, the sound that he knows. And he’s the one who’s elicited those laughs from you. 

"Explain it again, please. You’ve glued every single of these stones onto your dress?" He laughs and gives you another once over, glad he can disguise his inappropriate ogling with an appreciating glance. Act like he’s studying the intricate, shimmering patterns on the fabric. Not the way your tits are straining against the low cut over your chest. Not the way the skirt has ridden up your thighs, exposing a new inch of bare skin. "Great job, sweetheart. You look good. The dress looks good, too." 

He wonders how the dress would look bunched up around your waist. Or on the floor of your apartment. If your skin is as soft as it looks in the dim shine of the red light he’s stopped at. How it would taste under his tongue. The sweet sounds you would make when his teeth dig into you. 

You breathe a thank you and bite your lip at the compliment, and his cock twitches with interest. Wrong, wrong, so wrong.

He has to be imagining the way that you keep glancing his way, stealing looks when you think that he doesn’t notice. Wishful thinking on his part. 

He pulls up in front of your apartment building, killing the engine and turning towards you. You’re already facing him, more shy than you’ve looked all evening. 

“Thank you for tonight,” you say softly, lips pulling up into another smile. “I’ve had a great time. I— I hope you did too.” 

His hand lands on your thigh before he can actively think about it. A soft gasp escapes you, but you make no move to back away from his touch. 

“Trust me, I did.” 

He doesn’t intend for it to come out as low and breathy as it does. Teeth dig into your lips once more. Your contemplative gaze burns into him. 

You inch closer, close enough that he can feel your breath against his face. 

Wrong. He swallows thickly, forces his grip off of you. You blink, eyes growing wider, the growing tension’s fog lifting from you. Clearing your throat, you sit up straighter. 

“Good night, sweetheart.” 

He needs you to leave this car. Right now. 

You nod, shakily bidding him a good night as well. 

He watches your retreating silhouette, finally able to exhale deeply when you enter your building. 

He’s fucked.

comments and reblogs are love and make my day every single time <3

[ddejavvu]

tbh imagine reader trying to get like a soda or a bag of chips or something from a vending machine and it gets stuck

she doesn't even try kicking or yelling at the machine or anything, js knocking and softly talking to it like "hello? please come out 💔🙏"

she's just tapping on the glass so delicately and manifesting that her food miraculously falls down so she can get it but obviously that doesn't work 😭

hotch js standing there and staring at her half assed attempts to get her food unstuck as he makes fun of her in his head

If you glanced up at the glass above you you'd catch Hotch's reflection in it, but you're much too focused on the silver ring that's stubbornly clinging to your potato chips mere inches from the dispenser of the vending machine. You've kneeled to look at it, as if your pleading gaze will convince it to let gravity take its course, but the ring refuses to release its grip.

"Please let go," You beg it, and Hotch has heard you use the same tone when speaking to children during cases. Sensitive subjects call for sensitive approaches, but Aaron thinks the machine needs a good jostle, not a tender croon.

"Hello?" You tap your pointer finger against the glass by the knuckle, nowhere near enough force behind it to free your snack, "Please, please come out."

Aaron can't watch anymore. He wants to bite his tongue until it bleeds, caught up by how endearing your endless care is, and how frustratingly futile your attempts are. He's not sure whether he needs to dent the vending machine with his shoe or buy you a family sized bag of the chips you're trying to persuade out of the machine. He settles for a calm mixture of both, stepping up behind you and clearing his throat to announce his presence.

You look up at him forlornly, "The machine ate my dollar. And my chips got stuck."

"Here," He offers, pulling a wrinkled bill out of his own wallet. You stay crouched, brows furrowed as he types in the code for your chips. When he prompts the machine to spit another bag out, yours and his fall at the same time, and you plunge your hand into the receptacle eagerly.

"Thank you!" You gush, springing to your feet and pushing his own bag of chips towards him, "Hotch, you're a lifesaver."

"You can have them," He shakes his head, trying to keep his smile from growing too bright as he chuckles, "You're more delicate than I would have been. I think I'd have tried kicking it."

"I'm wearing flats," You stick your foot out towards him, showcasing the thin-walled shoes that would surely collapse on your toes if you jammed them against the metal machine, "Plus I don't wanna kick it. It didn't mean to take my chips. Are you sure you don't want any?" You ask him, eyes shimmering slightly with worry, "They're really good, Hotch. You'd like them."

He doesn't want to take them away from you, but he finds that he can't quite say no to your reasoning; if you care about him enough to recommend one of your favorite snacks to him, who would he be to deny your care?

"I could go for a snack," He folds, plucking the shiny package from your hand, "You shouldn't eat at your desk, though."

Really, he hadn't been fishing for any sort of invitation. But when you beam at him, already backing away towards the elevator bay, and you ask, "Wanna take a walk with me, Hotch?" He finds he can't say no.

So, chips in hand and wallet one dollar lighter, Aaron's face curves into a warm smile, and he lets you lead the way into an elevator.

[aemondwhoresworld]

I’M SO PROUD OF YOU, DADDY

pairing: dad!ewan mitchell x mom!reader ; husband!ewan mitchell x wife!reader

summary: a day without mommy at home, with lovely moments of ewan and elowen.

part of series: y/n, ewan and elowen mitchell

word count: 2,5k

warning: english is not my first language. fluff, sweet little elowen, ewan being a dad, etc

mae: it’s kind of long, i really want to make it as details as possible. also i’m currently obsessed with ewan being a girl dad, i just don’t know why, tbh i wanted to give him babies :)

fill THIS FORM to be add in my taglist 🌟 | you can discuss with me for this series through my ask ✨

As you finished putting on the final touches of your makeup, you heard the soft padding of tiny feet approaching the bedroom. You turned to see your daughter, Elowen, rubbing her eyes sleepily, her curls tousled from sleep. She looked up at you with a drowsy smile, still clutching her favorite stuffed dragon.

“Good morning, Mommy,” she murmured, her voice soft and endearing.

“Good morning, my love,” you replied, kneeling down to her level and pulling her into a warm hug. “Did you sleep well?”

She nodded, her sleepy expression brightening as she noticed the hint of lipstick on your lips. “Are you going somewhere today?”

You smiled and gently brushed a stray curl from her face. “Yes, sweetheart. Mommy has to go to work today, but I’ll be back home later, okay?”

Elowen’s face scrunched up slightly, a mix of understanding and reluctance. “Okay, but can I come with you?”

You chuckled softly, kissing her forehead. “Not today, darling. But maybe next time, if it’s somewhere safe. Today, Daddy’s going to be with you all day. Doesn’t that sound fun?”

As if on cue, Ewan appeared at the door, leaning against the frame with a smile. “How’s my little dragon this morning?” he asked, his voice warm and playful.

Elowen’s face lit up at the sight of her father, and she ran over to him, her earlier reluctance forgotten. “Daddy!”

Ewan scooped her up effortlessly, planting a kiss on her cheek. “I was just about to make some pancakes. Want to help me, El?”

She nodded eagerly, all traces of sleepiness gone. “Yes, please!”

Ewan looked over at you, his gaze soft and full of love. “We’ll be fine here. Don’t worry about a thing.”

You smiled at the sight of them, feeling a deep sense of contentment. “I know you will. You two are my everything.”

Ewan walked over with Elowen still in his arms, leaning in to give you one more kiss. “And you’re ours. Go knock ’em dead today.”

You nodded, feeling a surge of confidence. With one last look at your husband and daughter, you grabbed your bag and headed out the door, your heart full of love and gratitude.

As you stepped outside and into the car waiting for you, you couldn’t help but reflect on how lucky you were—to have such a loving family, to have a career that you were passionate about, and to be able to share all of it with the people who mattered most. Today was going to be a good day, and you knew you’d carry the warmth of this morning with you wherever you went.

After you left the house, Ewan and Elowen sat down to enjoy the pancakes they had made together. Elowen giggled as she drizzled extra syrup over her pancakes, while Ewan watched with a smile, happy to see his daughter so full of energy and joy.

“Daddy, these are the best pancakes ever!” Elowen exclaimed between bites, her face lighting up with happiness.

Ewan chuckled, ruffling her hair. “I’m glad you like them, El. You’re quite the little chef.”

After they finished breakfast, Ewan helped Elowen down from her chair. They both took their plates to the sink, and Ewan guided her through washing the dishes together. Elowen stood on a small step stool beside her father, her tiny hands barely big enough to hold the sponge as she tried to scrub the dishes clean. Ewan rinsed off the soap suds, making sure everything was spotless before placing the dishes on the drying rack.

Once the kitchen was tidied up, Ewan and Elowen brushed their teeth together. Elowen mimicked her father’s actions, standing on her tiptoes to reach the bathroom sink. Ewan made a game out of it, pretending they were brushing away “dragon breath,” which made Elowen giggle uncontrollably.

With their morning routine complete, Ewan decided it was the perfect time for a walk in the park. “How about we go on an adventure to the park, El?” he suggested, kneeling down to help her into her little sneakers.

Elowen’s eyes lit up with excitement. “Yes, Daddy! Can we see the ducks?”

“Of course,” Ewan replied, smiling at her enthusiasm. “Maybe we’ll even see some squirrels too.”

They both put on their jackets and Ewan grabbed Elowen’s favorite stuffed dragon, which she insisted on bringing along. Hand in hand, they stepped out into the crisp morning air. The park wasn’t far from their home, and the walk there was filled with the sounds of birds chirping and the rustle of leaves in the breeze.

When they arrived at the park, Elowen immediately spotted a small pond where a few ducks were swimming. She pulled Ewan over to the edge of the pond, watching the ducks paddle around with wide-eyed wonder. “Look, Daddy! There’s a baby duck!”

Ewan crouched down beside her, his arm around her shoulders as they watched the ducks together. “I see it, El. Isn’t it cute?”

Elowen nodded, completely captivated by the little duckling. After a few minutes, she decided it was time to explore more of the park. They walked along the winding paths, stopping occasionally to pick up interesting leaves or watch squirrels dart up trees. Ewan made sure to point out anything he thought might catch Elowen’s interest, making the walk educational and fun.

As they strolled through the park, Ewan felt a deep sense of contentment. This quiet morning with Elowen was exactly what he needed—a chance to slow down, enjoy the simple things, and spend quality time with his daughter. He knew that these moments were precious, and he cherished every second of them.

After a while, they reached a small playground where a few other children were playing. Elowen immediately ran toward the swings, and Ewan followed, pushing her gently as she soared back and forth, her laughter ringing through the air. The joy on her face was contagious, and Ewan found himself laughing along with her, feeling grateful for these simple yet unforgettable moments.

Eventually, after playing for a while longer, Ewan noticed that the sun was getting higher in the sky, signaling that it was nearly time to head back home. “What do you say, El? Ready to go home and tell Mommy about our adventure later?”

Elowen, slightly out of breath from all the excitement, nodded. “Yes, Daddy! I can’t wait to tell her about the ducks and the swings!”

With Elowen happily chatting away about their morning, Ewan took her hand again, and they made their way back home. The morning had been perfect, and Ewan couldn’t wait to share the details with you when you returned, knowing that these little moments were what truly made life special.

After spending a delightful morning in the park, Ewan and Elowen walked back home hand in hand, both feeling refreshed and happy from their time outdoors. Once inside, Ewan suggested they do some creative work together, which Elowen eagerly agreed to.

"How about we draw something special for Mommy?" Ewan proposed as he set up the drawing supplies on the kitchen table.

"Yes! I want to draw a dragon and a castle," Elowen declared, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Ewan smiled, pulling out some paper and colored pencils. "That sounds like a great idea. I'll draw with you, and then we can color them together."

They spent the next hour immersed in their art, Elowen focusing intently on her drawing while Ewan sketched beside her. The room was filled with the quiet sound of pencils on paper and the occasional burst of laughter as they shared ideas and admired each other's work. Elowen’s dragon had colorful scales and a big smile, while Ewan drew a castle with tall towers, complete with flags waving in the wind.

When they finished their drawings, they both colored them in, adding vibrant hues that brought their creations to life. Elowen was particularly proud of her dragon, which she had named "Sparkles."

"Mommy is going to love these," Ewan said, holding up his finished drawing and showing it to Elowen.

Elowen nodded enthusiastically. "She will! I can't wait to show her."

After their creative session, it was time for lunch. Ewan guided Elowen to the kitchen, where he began preparing a simple but delicious meal. Elowen sat nearby, watching as Ewan chopped vegetables and cooked. She occasionally helped by handing him ingredients, feeling important in her role as his little assistant.

Once lunch was ready, they sat down to eat together. Elowen happily munched on her food, chatting about their morning and what they would do later when Mommy got home.

When lunch was over, Ewan helped Elowen down from her chair, lifting her gently to the floor. As her feet touched the ground, she looked up at him with a serious expression and asked, "Daddy, can I have a hug?"

Ewan’s heart melted at her sweet request, and he immediately knelt down to her level, pulling her into a warm embrace. "Of course, you can, El. Anytime you want."

Elowen wrapped her small arms tightly around his neck, holding him close. After a moment, she pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, her expression earnest. "Daddy, I’m so proud that you’re my daddy."

Ewan’s breath caught in his throat, touched beyond words by her sincerity. "Oh, Elowen, that means the world to me. I’m so proud to be your daddy, too."

Elowen smiled, her eyes shining with love. "I know Mommy is proud of you too. She always tells me how lucky we are to have you."

Ewan felt a surge of emotion at her words, his eyes misting over slightly. He gently brushed a strand of hair away from her face, his voice soft and full of love. "Thank you, sweetheart. I’m the lucky one to have you and Mommy. You two are my everything."

Elowen hugged him again, and Ewan held her close, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude for the family he had. In that moment, he knew that no matter where life took them, the love they shared would always be the most important thing in his life.

After a few more moments of holding her, Ewan stood up, still smiling as he looked down at his daughter. "How about we clean up the kitchen together, and then we can play some more before Mommy gets home?"

Elowen nodded eagerly, ready for whatever adventure the rest of the day would bring. Together, they tidied up the kitchen, the bond between father and daughter growing even stronger with each shared moment.

As you walked through the front door, the familiar warmth of home embraced you. Almost immediately, you heard Elowen’s excited voice from upstairs. “Mommy’s home!” she called out, her tone filled with pure joy.

Looking up, you saw both Ewan and Elowen at the top of the stairs, holding hands as they began to make their way down to greet you. The sight of them filled your heart with happiness, and you couldn’t help but smile as they reached you. Elowen let go of Ewan’s hand and ran the rest of the way to you, wrapping her little arms around your legs in a tight hug.

You leaned down to scoop her up into your arms, planting a kiss on her cheek before turning to Ewan, who was now standing beside you with a warm smile. He pulled you into a gentle embrace, his strong arms holding you close, and for a moment, everything felt perfect.

“How was your day?” Ewan asked, his voice soft and filled with love as he kissed your temple.

“Better now that I’m home,” you replied with a contented sigh, leaning into him.

“Did you have fun with Daddy today?” you asked, smoothing back a strand of Elowen’s hair as she nodded sleepily.

“Yes, Mommy,” she said with a little yawn. “We went to the park and saw ducks, and then we made pancakes. And I drew a dragon for you.”

Your heart swelled with love as you kissed her forehead. “That sounds wonderful, my love. I can’t wait to see your drawing.”

Ewan gently took her from your arms, cradling her against his chest. “Let’s get you ready for your nap, little one,” he said softly, carrying her upstairs to her room.

You watched them go, feeling a deep sense of contentment. While they were upstairs, you headed to the kitchen, preparing yourself a hot cup of black coffee. Once it was ready, you made your way to the living room, sinking into the comfortable sofa with your mug in hand. The warmth of the coffee seeped through the cup, spreading a soothing heat through your hands.

A few minutes later, Ewan came back downstairs. He walked over to the sofa and sat down next to you, leaning back and letting out a soft sigh. His eyes were gentle, yet there was a hint of emotion there, something that made you reach out and place your hand on his.

“Is El giving you a hard time, my love?” you asked softly, your voice filled with affection and concern.

Ewan shook his head slowly, not replying right away. Instead, he took a deep breath, as if collecting his thoughts. “I almost cried today,” he finally said, his voice quiet but filled with emotion. “She’s just… she’s so sweet.”

You squeezed his hand gently, waiting for him to continue.

“She said she’s so proud of me,” Ewan murmured, his eyes shining with the intensity of the moment. “She just hugged me so tight and told me she’s proud that I’m her daddy. And she said she knows you’re proud of me too.”

Your heart melted at his words, and you felt your own eyes well up with tears. “Oh, Ewan,” you whispered, leaning in to rest your head on his shoulder. “Of course, we’re proud of you. Every single day, El and I are so proud to have you in our lives.”

Ewan wrapped his arm around you, pulling you even closer. “I know,” he whispered back, his voice thick with emotion. “It’s just… hearing it from her, in that little voice of hers… it just hit me so hard. I never want to take these moments for granted.”

You nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. “We’re so lucky, Ewan. To have each other, to have Elowen… it’s everything.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, holding you close. “It really is,” he agreed softly. “I wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.”

The two of you sat there in comfortable silence, the warmth of the coffee and each other’s presence filling the room. It was one of those moments where words weren’t necessary, where the love you shared was enough to communicate everything you felt. And in that quiet, peaceful moment, you both knew that no matter what challenges came your way, you would face them together, with love, pride, and the unwavering support of your little family.

taglist: @minami97 ; @hellsingalucard18 ; @champomiel ; @fan-goddess ; @xcharlottemikaelsonx ; @emyswagger ; @k1ttybean ; @callsignwidow

[rememberwren]

Ghoap x Reader. Let's talk aftercare.

I said, how would aftercare work if the scene ends before it begins?

CW: Simon's history of non-con, safewording, not much aftercare for aftercare being my primary focus tbh, established ghoap, fem!reader.

-

Ghost safewords and disappears into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. 

Johnny hasn’t even kneeled up onto the bed yet. You’re still wearing your robe. The scene which the three of you had planned with near religious fanaticism for the last two weeks had barely even begun, and now it has already ended. 

You and Johnny stare at each other with twin expressions of confusion. Johnny, quick and long used to Ghost’s unpredictability, rushes the door. He knocks and then braces his hands against the doorframe, head down. 

“Simon? Can I come in?” he calls through the oak. 

“It’s unlocked,” Ghost says back, scathing. The water faucet has been turned on, muffling his voice a little but not his tone. He’s furious. You can take a guess as to at whom. 

It isn’t his fault, though, you think. You sit on the edge of the bed, toying anxiously with the hem of your robe, any and all arousal having sublimated into thin air with Ghost’s safeword. It’s hard to believe that only a few minutes ago, the three of you had been setting up with excitement, eager to play—or had you? Had there been signs that Simon wasn’t in the right headspace? Should you have been looking more closely? You draw your knees up toward your chest, wrapping your arms around them, feeling hollow. 

“Prefer if you opened the door instead of me,” Johnny says calmly, a pillar of strength, stone strong amongst the uncertain shifting sands. 

The door jerks open. Johnny disappears inside and gives you a sheepish glance before he shuts the door behind him. It’s fine. You can wait out here. The hollow feeling inside your chest seems to grow and swell, throbbing in time with your heart like an angry bruise. You wished you were inside the bathroom too, a part of their duo, more than just a temporary fixture in their bedroom. Should you get dressed? God, should you leave? No—you couldn’t do that, not before making sure that Simon was okay. 

After nearly ten minutes of heated whispers back and forth, the door opens and the two trudge out of the bathroom. Simon can’t meet your eye. 

“Well,” says Johnny, rubbing the back of his own neck. “This has been enlightening. Time for aftercare?” 

“Doesn’t aftercare usually come after something?” Simon asks waspishly. “Didn’t even manage to fucking do anything.” 

“Prepared to do something, didn’t we?” says Johnny, like it is a simple matter. “Can we get you anything? W—”

“You can get the hell out.” 

You slip off the bed. You don’t need to be told twice. You find where your clothes are piled carefully on top of the dresser and slip your underwear on beneath the robe, feeling too raw to just let the slinky, silky fabric fall to your feet and bare you to the room. 

“It’s important, Simon,” Johnny says, calm and resolute. “The way you’re acting tells me you need it.” 

“I need you to stop yapping for once in your goddamn life,” says Ghost, dressing himself with jerky movements on the other side of the room. 

“Then do it for her, aye?” Who? you wonder, looking over your shoulder. There is only you. You glance over your shoulder to see that Simon has stopped dressing himself, top half still bare, eyeing down Johnny like a dog who hasn’t decided yet if he intends to fight or find the threat beneath him. Johnny tips his head toward you. “She needs it too. Can’t you tell?” 

Simon’s brow furrows, mouth dipping into an even deeper scowl. His eyes flicker towards you, but you are determined to show him that whatever Johnny is saying is wrong. He doesn’t need to let you do anything; you’re fine. You hadn’t even been the one to safeword! But whatever he sees on your face has his eyes going a little soft, his mouth a little less harsh. 

“Water, I guess,” he mutters. “‘M thirsty.” 

“I’ll get it,” says Johnny. When he passes you, he lets his hand rest on your shoulder, dragging softly from one shoulder blade to the other. He asks: “Will you stay with him?”

You nod. Johnny isn’t giving you much of a choice. Not for the first time, you resent his meddling, the near-omniscient way he seems to know what everyone needs even when you couldn’t say for yourself  what that is. 

Simon has seated himself on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. With his back turned, you feel fine to drop the robe and tug a shirt on. Carefully toeing your way around the bed, you stand beside him, frowning, unsure what you’re doing here. Why you’re here. Johnny should be here. You should be fetching water like Lassie.

Simon glances up at you, a flash of irritation. He heaves a sigh. “Not angry at you.” 

“I know,” you say. You’re pretty sure that’s true. 

“I’m doing every fuckin’ thing right. Why’s it still going wrong?” he wonders, letting his hands down to hang loosely between his legs. 

You step there, until he has to put his hands on your hips, until he can bury his face in your chest. You stroke reach up tentatively, stroking at his hair the soft, easy way that he likes. You’re no good with words—are just as likely to stutter over the wrong words as you are the right ones. 

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “I just know I’m not finished trying. Not if you aren’t.” 

He huffs a breath against you, turning to place his cheek and ear against your sternum. Your heart must be beating out of your chest, but he doesn’t mention it. Each of his slow, even breaths seems to melt away the icy hollow feeling inside your ribs.

“Thanks for stopping us,” you say, in case Johnny hasn't already. 

He looks up at you, dark, endless sort of eyes. He says: “Thanks for letting me.” 

You scratch his scalp softly, unable to respond. Johnny reappears, waters in hand.

[madamechrissy]

Fractured Desires

ꕥ Pairings: Suguru Geto x Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader (Mostly Satoru Gojo x Reader)- It's a mess tbh lol

ꕥ Warnings-MDNI-explicit sexual content, threesomes/ foursomes/ complicated shit, infidelity. Abusive gaslighting Suguru. Yandere Gojo behavior. In this chapter- Rough sex, obsessed behavior, stalking, trauma, heavy angst, blow jobs, deep throating, overstim, face smacking, breeding kink, cunnilungus, PSYCHO stalker SATORU but he's hot. Toxic relationship

ꕥ Word Count this chap- 11.5k

ꕥ Summary- You meet Suguru Geto at your work, he is charming, gorgeous, and has a poly lifestyle. You jump in, and you all share women and have way too much fun. But then it's starting to get serious between you, official even. He can't wait to have you meet his best friend. But... Satoru Gojo hates you. The minute you meet. He gives you no reason, but he's nasty to you, no matter what you try. Suguru finally has enough of Satoru being so mean and brings up the idea - 'let's have you two fuck this frustration out'

Satoru hates you because deep down wants to make you his. He doesn't understand how Suguru could ever want anyone but you. Though it's a bad idea, he agrees to share you with Suguru for a chance at you and... The moment he touches you... Rules are bent and broken, Suguru develops feelings for another girl, and Satoru gets further obsessed with you. Nothing is as it seemed. Will everyone get hurt?

Chapter 5 - Masterlist (playlist there now too)

Chapter 6

Satoru's POV

Satoru can’t stand not hearing from you. After you telling him you had a bad night, you never wrote him at all, and he’s pacing back and forth in his office, losing his fucking mind. He’s wrecking his usually perfect hair as the clock ticks along the wall, maddening, as he keeps checking his phone.

Tick Tick Tick.

Satoru should call you, but could he? He’d never tried to be with a woman, they’ve just thrown themselves at him for as long as he can remember. You all aren’t together, no, but you brought up a date, and fuck if the thought of that didn’t drive him insane, to think he’d be lucky enough to date you. Sure, he fucked you, but to be with you…

The thought of it has him salivating for you, as he stares at the one picture he’d stolen, fuck why can’t he have a picture of you, why hasn’t he asked? Satoru is afraid, that’s why. He’s so scared to reveal his true self to you, to only be rejected, though you seem so far to absolutely take anything he’s given, and he’s given you the worst side of him.

You didn’t seem to be aware you were too good for him.

He has to work in an office next to Suguru, knowing he did that to you. Yes, he’d been friends with Suguru forever, but he’d been dark, he’d been off right before he met you. Satoru thought you were bringing him light, and that was why he absolutely could not have done anything to you, but it was all because he wanted to hurt Satoru.

Even dangling you in front of him for the threesome, his eyes had been so amused as he’d watched Satoru. As he watched him knowing he took you first, and not just ‘first’ but literally took your first time from you. The way you had looked, so shattered, had made him want to do far more than beat his fucking friend up, oh so much more.

Knock Knock Knock.

Satoru puts up his phone, he’d been zoomed in on your pretty face, imagining himself caressing it so sweetly, imagining letting go. He sighs, sitting in his chair now, dreading whoever it may be. He certainly didn’t wanna see Suguru, he’d avoided him all morning.

“Come in.” He says, throwing his feet up on his big wood desk, his shoes glinting in the office light.

His assistant walks in, the one he used to fuck until… well until he fucked you, actually, so he’d fucked her just last week. But she’s disgusting to him now, even though she’s a pretty girl, he guesses. He’d thought of you every time he’d fucked her, to the point he’d have your picture up and sneak looks as he was inside her, pumping with a condom, so that he could cum.

“Yes, what do you need, Manami?” He asks casually, and she smiles a bit, curving up at the corner of her lips, shutting the door behind her.

“I should ask what you need, Mr. Gojo?” She saunters up, she’s wearing a tight purple dress, her hair sleek and flowing down her shoulders, as she comes to sit right on Satoru’s desk.

“I’m good. If that’s all?” He says arrogantly, raising a brow, and her eyes narrow a bit as she looks at him, before she runs a hand on his shoulder, making him tense.

“It’s been a week, I figured you’d like some…” She slides her manicured hand down his chest now. She has sleek red nails, nothing like your stupid glittery pink, she’s womanly, not girly like you and…

She disgusts him.

“Some… ‘what’? Coffee? Sure, go make some.” He takes her hand off, as the only hand he wants touching him is yours, even if it’s a goddamn dream currently.

“Mr. Gojo, have I done something wrong?” She asks then, and maybe Satoru should care, but you’re the only one he really feels like trying to be nice to.

“Nah, just not interested.” He taps his fingers on his stomach, and she spreads her legs wide then, elegant red bottom heels on either arm of his chair, not silly girlie shoes like you, no she had class.

It was a turn off.

He likes your stupid platforms, he likes your mary janes, he likes those doc martens you look like you’ve had your whole life, all beat up. Fuck Satoru finds so much about you attractive, his eyes shut for just a moment as he pictures you on his desk, in some pleated preppy skirt, spread wide. And fuck if it doesn’t make him stupidly hard in his pants.

“Maybe go see Suguru. He’s probably down.” Satoru says, opening his eyes to close her legs then, and she’s now got her lip trembling, making Gojo annoyed. He rolls his blue eyes, now she’s irritating him with this. “It was just dick, calm down.”

“Just dick? It was the best I’ve ever had!” Gojo smirks then, shrugging, patting her thighs now.

“I know, I’m the best. Be happy you got any from me. Take it as a win, mmkay?” He helps her down off his desk, only for her to lean forward, pressing a kiss against his lips, her hand sliding to find where he’s rock hard, from thoughts of you.

“Sure you don’t want me? I’ll just suck it, please Mr. Gojo.” She begs, stroking him then, and sure that feels good, sure he could get off, but it’s not you.

Fuck he hates you.

Why do you have to ruin everything he’s ever done, ruin his life, ruin his thoughts? When you just got fucked by Sugu the other day, but you’re done with that, and damned if Satoru would not be done himself. Honestly though, he doesn’t want this girl, he doesn’t want anyone but you.

She’s dropping to her knees, and Satoru hates you more then, because how were you making him so pathetic he’s turning down a blow job!? Not even dating you at all. What the fuck were you making him into, with your perfect little giggles, with your beautiful eyes filled with tears, with the body women paid to have, but you just have it and hate it.

He wants to make you love it.

“Get up, jesus fuck.” He grumbles, backing away, as she’s trying to unzip him. “Like consent is cool yeah? I said no thanks.”

“I didn’t know if you were like… being kinky?” She’s still on her knees, it’s kind of awkward to be honest.

He can’t stop his laugh, nor does he really want to.“Not kinky, just don’t-” The door opens then, and Suguru is standing there, Manami is slowly getting up, using the desk to pull herself, and Suguru’s dark eyes light up then, as he smirks and looks at Gojo and Manami.

“Lock the door when you get bjs, Satoru.” He says, taking out his phone then, acting casual.

“Not getting one. Don’t want one from her. No offense.” She’s bright red, and she’s turning, stomping out of the room and slamming the door, as Suguru is texting. Satoru narrows his eyes at his friend. “What the fuck you doing?”

“Mmm, thinking of letting your new girl know.” Satoru glares then, walking up to Suguru and slamming him against the wall.

“Let her know what? First off, we’re not together yet, but second off? I don’t fucking want anyone but her. You’re so stupid, had the prettiest girl there is and you let her fuck me.”

“Exactly, I let her fuck you. After my cock was inside of her first. How’d that feel, Satoru?” Satoru punches him right in the ribs then, making Suguru cough and bend over.

“How’s it feel she got a taste of me and forgot about you completely, huh?” Satoru asks with a smirk, blue eyes glinting, and Suguru scowls now. “Shoko turned you down, yeah? Good for her.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Satoru laughs as he watches real emotion in Suguru’s eyes, now he’s shoving Satoru in the blue office wall, so hard books are falling off the shelves now.

“Aw, buddy, I’m sorry, but she never fucking liked you like that. She doesn’t like any guy like that, idiot. She probably liked her more-”

“Keep Shoko’s name out of your goddamn mouth. Worry about your stupid little slut now, and how easy she’ll be gone.” Satoru scowls at the disrespectful words he calls you, yanking him by his collar.

“Watch your fucking mouth, Suguru.”

“Like you don’t call her that? Like she’s not? Had no problem with both of us eating her out did she?”

“She isn’t a slut, you are, Suguru. Cheated on her like it was nothing, did Shoko even know you had rules?” Suguru looks down then, seemingly resigned for one moment, but Satoru doesn’t buy his shit anymore. “Ah, she didn’t know. Maybe I should let her-”

“Don’t fucking talk to her!” He shoves at Satoru again, and Satoru sees right through him now.

“I never wanted Shoko, and she didn’t want me, jesus christ. Get the fuck over it, how many years will you drag this out? I’ve apologized so many times.”

“You didn’t care when you did it, when you told me years later, as if it were some funny fucking story.”

“So take it out on me, why her!?”

“Because you don’t fucking care about yourself, do you Satoru?” Suguru’s words stab Satoru in the heart, and Satoru gets even more infuriated, the room closing in on him. The walls were closer, closer, until he felt almost like he could faint from the pain, from the breathless agony.

“I wonder what Shoko thinks, she’s not the girl to have let another girl be hurt so badly. Does she know what you did to her? How you went against every rule-”

“She knows she got upset because of a misunderstanding. That’s all you need to know.” Suguru shoves Satoru's chest now.

Satoru smiles as he puts it together. “So Shoko won’t answer your calls because you’re a piece of shit now, and now you lost your little toy and the high school crush? You’re like a spoiled little child.”

“Says you, fucking idiot. You know… she’s totally fucking her friend, yeah? Or she will be. Walked in on them holding hands last night. Looks like she’ll be passed around and around. I mean, she’s definitely an elite fuck, that’s for-” Suguru’s words are cut off as Satoru’s pulse races so much his whole body feels numb.

“What?” Satoru demands through gritted teeth, and Suguru’s smirk is back, split lip and all.

“Choso, goth bartender. Bet he’s with her now. Ah, he’s so clearly in love with her-”

“What do you mean you saw her!?”

“Oh… that’s what you mean. Well, thought I’d talk.”

Satoru’s hand is tight around Suguru’s neck now, his eyes turning serious, a storm of bright blue. “If you hurt her in any way, I’ll fucking kill you.”

“Hurt her? No, I’m not as rough with sex as you, Satoru. I liked to take my time with her, you know, make love. Not as barbaric.” Suguru pats Satoru’s cheek then, and Satoru can’t control the rage in his body.

“It doesn’t matter how ‘sweet’ you were if you took her virginity like that. It’s fucking wrong, Suguru what has happened to you, it’s like I don’t know you!” Satoru feels emotions well up, as who he thought was the best goddamn person he knew could be so careless, so cruel.

“Satoru you act like a virgin is new. How many have you had? I’ve had plenty, no not a twenty four year old one. Kinda thought she was lying till…”

“Don’t, I swear. I can’t fucking take it.” He turns, his head pounding with images, of you so trusting and sweet under Suguru Geto, who had so much experience, older than you, playing you.

“It didn’t hurt her, you big baby-”

“You did. Mentally. Emotionally. How can you have acted so mad at me for comments when you did all that?”

“Well, I thought what better way to have you get a taste of what you were missing out on. Best friend.” Suguru says mockingly, and Satoru’s fists clench and unclench at his sides. “Anyway, she clearly still wants me, she was so wet, Satoru. Well, you know how wet she gets now.”

He better not have touched you.

He better not have fucking…

Why didn’t you answer? What happened to make your day bad?

Did he…

“What the fuck did you do? You better tell me before I find out.” Suguru chuckles a bit, brushing himself off as he backs away so casually.

“Oh I just gave her a little of what she wanted, you didn’t seem to respect my relationship with her, so don’t expect me to.” Satoru’s chest tightens painfully, he’s so afraid that he’s caused you pain that he can’t take it. He also can’t stand the thought of Suguru touching you…

Suguru wasn’t like that, was he?

Was he?

Did he even know Suguru anymore…

“Enjoy the pretty Princess for now.” He pats Satoru on the shoulder with a smirk. “Especially since I sent her a photo of you just now.”

“You what?”

“Your serve, Satoru.” Suguru saunters the fuck out, and Gojo cannot keep himself together, he’s ripping apart at the seams, he then exhales when he sees you pop up on his phone. He swipes up with shaky hands.

Short Stuff: I’m sorry I didn’t write last night, Toru.

Satoru: Suguru write to you?

Satoru is wiping sweat off his brow with the back of his hand, his gold watch scraping against his overheated skin. He is so afraid to not even get a fucking chance with you.

Short Stuff: Yes.

He sighs, covering his face in his hands.

Short Stuff: I don’t believe him.

What!?

Satoru: I need to see you, now.

Short Stuff: Need my address?

Satoru: I've been there.

Short Stuff: What!!!

Satoru: Heading over.

***

You really think Satoru hasn't been in front of your house? You think he hasn’t watched you so many fucking times? Watch as you shimmy out of your ugly little beetle into your little home. It’s small, but he notices it’s yours, all yours, no roommates, no little apartment, you seem to have bought this yourself. You take good care of that little yard, wearing those shorts…

Fuck those white cut off shorts, that show way too much ass.

You really shouldn’t show off what’s his that much, but then, you’re not just his… yet, at least. Plus he enjoys watching you every now and then, especially when he’s leaving work, before you’d go see Suguru, there was this bit of peace watching you water all your succulents. Watch the sun kiss perfect skin, watch the way your ass looked when bent over at the waist.

He sometimes would watch after your work, not long no, Satoru has a life, but long enough to make sure no psycho got in there with you. You were so pretty and so many guys hit on you, he worried one would stalk you, follow you. He tried not to do it too often, but he just couldn’t help worrying.

Yeah, it’s pretty fucked up, but that’s what you do to him.

Your pretty face wrecks every rational thought Satoru ever had.

Now he’s right in front of your house, and he sees there is another car there instead of yours. He frowns a bit, growing even more worried as he walks up and knocks on the door. It’s not you who answers, it’s that tall goth bartender you work with, he’d be worried if he was less of a man, but he can tell that you all are friends, he’s seen you both interact at the bar.

How many nights had he wished he could have said hi?

And now…

The guy in front of him crosses his arms, until you peek out from around him, smiling just a bit, but your eyes are puffy, and you look fucking exhausted. You’re wearing pajamas and it’s about four in the afternoon, along with fuzzy pink slippers and your hair is in a messy bun.

“Satoru, that was quick… Choso he’s fine, let him in.” You tap his shoulder, Choso his name was, hadn’t Suguru said that? And Choso nods, moving so you can come inside.

He’s not seen inside your home, it’s cozy and full of various knick knacks, it’s not messy but it’s not spotless. It’s lived in and comfortable, though Satoru thinks it’s way too small for you, but every part that he sees is you. Every little painting on the walls, which are old wood walls that he hadn’t seen in ages, along with stacks of notebooks on your little coffee table.

You write, that’s your passion you said. Your eyes lit up when you spoke about it.

Satoru will just buy you a bookstore or something, so you can be safe, he’ll just make sure you have no bills, so you don’t have to bartend. You can just live with him, live your damn dream, you don’t need to work ever. Also, this place is too small, not good enough, he needs to make sure you have better.

You take his hand tentatively, like you’re afraid of his reaction, looking up at him with tired eyes, and Satoru’s heart breaks at the sight. “It’s a little messy, I’m sorry, I didn’t expect company. And Choso is used to it.”

“She really sucks at cleaning.” Choso playfully pushes you a bit, and you’re smiling the tiniest bit finally.

“I try!”

“What happened?” Satoru asks gruffly, and you sigh, looking down, those lashes casting shadows, he can see you’ve scrubbed yourself clean, you’re completely bare faced and look so smooth.

“Maybe you should tell him what happened.” Choso says behind Satoru, he looks over at him, with knowing eyes. “Choso, by the way.”

“Satoru. You… took care of her last night?” Satoru asks softly, and Choso nods, yawning.

“I did, even thought I wanted to just fucking kill your friend, but Barbie wouldn’t let me leave.” He ruffles that bun in your hair, kissing your head then, and you sigh, hugging him.

Satoru should be furious, but something about your connection doesn’t worry him. “Thank you for taking care of her.”

You and Choso stare up at Satoru in shock, and who can blame you. “Thought you said he was kinda a dick, Barbie?” Choso’s violet gaze looks right at you, and you flush so prettily then.

“I am.” Satoru says, earning a soft giggle from you and a smirk from Choso. “A huge dick actually.”

“Well, I like you a lot better than your friend.” Choso’s fists are clenching, opening and closing as he sighs.

“Yeah, well I hate him too. Can we talk?” Satoru asks you, and you nod then, looking at Choso.

“You okay with him, Barbie?” Barbie huh? Well it fits you, you’re even shaped like one, in those pink pjs.

“Yeah, Cho. Go get sleep please, I know my couch is not comfy.” You say, looking down at the well worn tan leather couch of yours.

“I’m fine.” He cracks his neck though, and Satoru starts to put it together, clearly this man held you as you sobbed all night.

What the fuck happend.

“No, go home and sleep. I’ll text you later.” You kiss his cheek, your sweet lips look so soft that Satoru aches, and Choso sighs, hugging you to him.

“Love you, Barbie.”

“Love you, Cho.”

Choso holds his hand to Satoru now, covered in tattoos and black rings, and Satoru takes it as he tilts his head, studying Satoru. “Don’t be a dick to her. I’m going to catch a charge when I meet your friend again, but you seem… to care. Just…”

“I won’t hurt her, I never would.” Satoru says, and Choso nods, walking out then, and shutting the door behind him, leaving you both alone.

You’re nervously playing with your hands in front of your lap, and Satoru is inhaling your sweet fucking scent, as he looks how tiny and small you look, how forlorn and sad. He wants to hold you, but he doesn’t want to scare you, and he also wants to slam his lips on yours, he wants to make love to you, he wants…

Everything. Satoru wants everything, all of you.

You tentatively walk up to him, and he takes a step closer, then you step even closer, until you’re right in front of him, until he feels your body heat. Satoru gently takes your shoulders in his hands, sliding down to your arms, and you gasp a bit, your hands on his chest. Satoru’s heart is racing, his hands now sliding to your little waist, his grip tightening.

“How do you know where I live, Toru?” You whisper, making him smirk just a bit, as he brings you against him.

“You really wanna know?”

“Fuck, maybe not.” You rest your head on his chest, exhaling, and he pulls you even tighter, wanting to feel you, every bit of you. “I meant to text back. I just had a rough night.”

“What happened? Tell me everything, I’ll fix it, I’ll make it go away, I swear to God I will. I’ll do anything.”

You look up at him in surprise, but then he watches it shift to emotion, to fright now. “I don’t know how to say it…”

“Tell me. Did he fucking touch you!?” He demands, shaking you now, his grip on your delicate flesh bruising. You blink away a fresh set of tears, gasping just a bit, as you hold onto him tightly.

“Did I deserve it?” You whisper, and that’s the moment you shatter Satoru Gojo’s fucking heart. When he sees you dejected, when he sees you in your head, when he sees you so small and crumbling.

“No. No. No. You deserve everything. Do you not fucking see it?” He’s shaking you again, but you’re stiff, you’re opening and closing your mouth, as if you can’t say it, as if it would make it real.

What did he do to you?

What had Suguru become?

“Tell me. Now.” He says tersely, and you back away a bit, turning around and walking to your couch, grabbing a puffy butterfly plush and snuggling it to your chest, burying your face in it.

“I c-can’t. I can’t.” You’re sobbing, in a little ball, and Satoru leans over you causing you to look at him with watery eyes.

“You need to tell me. You need to. Did he touch you? Tell me.” You’re sniffling now, and finally Satoru can’t handle it, he’s grabbing your pretty face in his hands, glaring down at you. “Did he!?”

“Yes, but… not… didn’t rape me or…”

“He fucking touched you!” You’re tense, leaning back, fuck he’s scaring you, but he’s so furious he can’t think, he wants to fucking kill Suguru Geto.

He wants to end him.

He wants to cut his fucking hands off.

“Where?” He kneels now, pulling you out of that ball, and taking away your stuffie, putting it to the side, his hands on your thighs as you sit there criss cross. Your legs are trembling, as tears fall.

“Um… he… only for a… will you be mad at me!? I…”

“Stop it, fucking stop it, you’re being so fucking stupid.” He’s pulling you to him now, and your lips are a trembling mess right in front of him, your eyes locking onto his own. “You need to tell me, I have to know what he did. Where?”

You just look down at your lap, and his hands grip your hair so tight you cry out, as he realizes your intent. “Satoru, he just touched it, he was just so angry at me, that you came inside me. It’s on me…”

“No, no, no. No.” He’s standing now, and you stare up at him, as he turns to leave, to kill his ‘best friend’.

“Satoru, please stay. Please.” You come to cling to his waist, and he’s on edge, he’s so furious he can’t take it. “I need someone. I’m sorry.”

“Why do you apologize for nothing!?” He has you pressed against the front door, his hands around your delicate wrists, and your chest is heaving as you look up at him. “I’ll be back after I cut his goddamn hands off.”

“Satoru, don’t, please. You’ll just get in trouble because of me.”

Satoru growls, bending low as he looks at your beautiful face, just a breath away, you smell and taste so goddamn sweet even now, you’re so heartbreakingly beautiful, even looking a mess, you take his breath, you shatter his heart. You’re trying to care for him, even now, trying to explain away what Suguru has done. It makes him furious, why can’t you see what you’re worth!?

If you were you wouldn’t even talk to him, would you…

You make him feel he could be worth more.

Enough for you.

“He touched you. He doesn’t get to fucking do that anymore. He should have never been able to, so I’ll make sure he can’t again.” You’re panting now, as he’s squeezing your wrists hard, he eases back as he realizes, rubbing the little thin veins on your soft inner skin. You’re shaking in his hold, tears falling from your lashes in little droplets.

Satoru can’t breathe.

“He just wanted to fuck with me, I don’t think he’d-”

“How do you know? It’s like I don’t know him at all.” Satoru feels his own emotions welling up, and you have the audacity to press forward, to free your hands and run up his face, bringing him down to face you. “Let me go. I swear to god. You’re so small I’ll throw you out of my goddamn way if you don’t move.”

“I need to forget. Now. Please.” You whisper, Satoru exhales, closing his eyes against your perfect touch. “I need you here.”

“You think I don’t want to pump your pretty cunt full?” You suck in a breath, and your eyes glaze over, mirroring his own desire. “I need to take care of him first, then I’ll come back and fuck you till you forget.” He’s grabbing on your hips, pressing you further into that door, overheating when you’re rolling your hips up against him.

“Satoru you’ll make things awful, you work with him, you-”

“I don’t care about anything but you, it can all blow the fuck up.” He slams his lips down on yours then, and you reach up to cling around his neck, sweaty little palms feeling far better than any touch he’d ever had.

“Thought you hated me.” You whisper, he groans, as your lips are so fucking close that he tastes you.

“I do hate you.”

“I want this to work. I want you, Satoru.” You whisper up at him pleadingly, and you are his undoing.

He’ll kill Suguru in his sleep later.

For now, your breasts, lush and full, are pressed on his chest, and he can’t even function, not when his hard cock is screaming to claim you, not when your soft lips are pressing along his throat. He groans, leaning his head on the door right next to you, before punching it and making you tense, lips parted as you look up.

“He can’t touch you. He can’t. You’re mine. Mine.” You kiss him then, and Satoru loses all his senses, except for rage and lust, and you’re clinging to him desperately, as he drinks up your salty little tears. “Why couldn’t I have talked to you?” He huffs those words desperately.

“I wish I noticed you. How could I not have seen you?” You whisper now, your voice breaking, as you are caressing his face with your shaky hands, and Satoru’s throat constricts with his emotion, forcing him to swallow. “I won’t ruin your life with this, Toru.”

“Ruin my life. Ruin it. Just like I’ll fucking ruin yours.” He says then, and you cling to his shirt tightly, your lower lip trembling, and he’d give you anything you want when you look at him like that.

“Ruin me then.”

Fuck what you do to him.

“I already did. Look if I never brought you up-”

“Shut the fuck up. Stop it. Stop blaming yourself.” You plead, and those eyes he’s drowning in are a myriad of emotions. Your hands run up and down his abdomen, making every bit tremble, as he aches with his desire for you. “How were you wrong for telling your friend you thought I was pretty?”

“Not pretty. Not pretty.” He’s gripping your face so tightly you wince, as he craves to fuck into you then and there, right on your door. It takes all his control not to slide your pajama shorts to the side and shove his cock in that tight wetness he’d do anything to feel. “I didn’t say pretty.”

You frown a bit then, looking down. “I didn’t mean to presume-”

“I said you were so beautiful I couldn’t even fucking speak. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t function. Pretty isn’t enough.” You’re a mess now, his thigh is between yours, and you’re grinding on him, helpless for him. Fuck how are you helpless as he is, how can you be real?

“Satoru, thank you. Thank you for making me feel that way.” You whisper, making him scowl down at you.

“I don’t make you feel that way, I just say I hate you. I just keep it all in so you don’t destroy me completely.”

“The worst thing about last night wasn’t even him fingering me-”

“He stuck a fucking finger in you!?” He’s even angrier now, and you are well past caring now, you don’t care that he’s gripping you so tight he could crush your skull in his big hands. You don’t care that he’s scowling, that he’s breathing fire damn near, you just look up at him lovingly.

How can you!?

“The worst part was that Suguru said you’ll find someone prettier, that you’ll find someone better. That I’m not good enough.” You’re choking on your sobs, as Satoru’s rage grows exponentially, his brows low over his eyes with anger.

“There is no one else. There’s been no one else.” He’s slamming your pretty lips again with his own, kissing you over and over, and he drinks in your sighs, as he drinks in you. “Had to stare at a picture of you to fuck someone before I even got to taste you, think I’m wanting anyone?”

“Satoru… how’d you get a picture of me?” You mumble, and he just grins, pulling back and yanking that ponytail, taking your messy hair and gripping it in his big hands, pulling your head back. You’re soaking his thigh, with your sweet little sounds, with your eyes so full of tears still.

“Baby there’s a lot you don’t wanna know. You wanna talk about all of it, or want me to make you cum over…” He presses his hands on your breasts, cupping them, whispering against your lips. “And over…” He pinches your perky nipples, and you cling to him, desperate, almost as desperate as Satoru himself. “And over.”

Now he’s biting your neck, fuck you taste so good he can’t take it, you consume him entirely, he feels your pulse thrumming so quick like a little hummingbird. He feels your gasp, as he clings to your perfect body, so small in his big hands, feels you melting for him, feels your knees weakening.

Satoru cannot function or focus on anything aside from wanting to please you, to make you his entirely, and he will in every fucking way possible. He’s still enraged, he’s still infuriated, but he’s also going to give you anything you want, he’s too weak when it comes to you.

He’ll have to kill Suguru after he’s pumped you full of cum.

“Fuck it, I don’t wanna know right now. Just fuck me, please Toru. Please.” You beg now, and he’s groaning, picking you up in his arms easily, desperate for you, your legs eagerly wrap around his hips, your heat pressed against his cock, and he can hardly control himself, shaking as he holds you.

“Oh, I’ll fuck you baby, but you need to say it. That you’re mine, only mine. No one else gets to have you, do you understand? Do you!?” He is desperate as he looks at you, and you just nod, emotional, as he’s carrying you straight to your little room, yeah Satoru looked up the layout, don’t worry about that though. You only had a master and a guest room, it was easy.

“How do you know where my room is? I-”

“No getting fucked if you can’t shut that pretty mouth up.” He’s got you on your little bed then, and your eyes go wide, lips parting as he sinks on top of you, he’s longer than your entire bed, which he notices is covered in pink silk. He’ll mention he hates that later, right now he needs to taste you. “Say it.”

“I’ll be yours, Satoru Gojo. Yours.” You speak those words so goddamn sincere, with your perfect lips.

His chest tightens.

His heart constricts.

“You don’t understand.” He whispers, leaning up on long arms as he looms over you. “I mean mine. Mine. Only me. Can only be me in your head, in your thoughts, in your fucking mind. Got me? He can never fucking enter it again.”

“It’s only you in there already.” You whisper, blinking rapidly, tears hot and sticky now, and he feels like he’s going to fucking burst with the need to claim you, to make you scream his name, to make you cum until you forget Suguru completely.

Satoru can’t stand that he saw you like this.

Under him.

A virgin, innocent, young… and he did that to you.

He needs to make you both forget.

Don’t worry, he knows just how to.

“Good. That’s what I want to hear. That’s what I need to hear, baby. You’re mine, my good little girl.” He watches your eyes blow out at his words, watches the already intense desire grow as you’re under him.

“Good girl, fuck.” You whisper now, and he smiles a bit, not a smirk or a grin, no your cute little whimper makes him smile genuinely, even as you rip him apart with your perfection. Satoru has been so goddamn harsh with you, that you’re disintegrating at a couple words.

“Yes, you are a good girl right now. Now let’s get you naked and see what we can do about those sad eyes, yeah?” You nod, letting him pull your shirt over your head, revealing those perfect tits, and he groans, eyes locked on them as he runs his thumb over your nipples, watching them peak even more. “You’re so beautiful, baby. So fucking beautiful.”

“Oh Satoru… thank you.” You whisper, gasping and leaning your head back, your face red with emotion, as he leans down to kiss you, to taste you, to claim you. You reach for his cock, but he slams your hand up, shaking his head.

“Let me show you, let me show you how I’ll treat you, if you’ll be only mine.” Your gaze is lidded now, and you eagerly nod, biting that full lower lip with white teeth, your brows together as you’re arching for more of him.

“Please show me, Toru. Please.” You whisper, and your whisper is like a fucking caress to his ears.

Satoru's hands are shaking as he slides down your pajama shorts, revealing your already wet pussy, and he’s lost for words. You’re so beautiful he can’t even describe it. He leans down, kissing your stomach, and you moan so sexy, arching into his touch. His tongue traces the line of your inner thigh, teasing closer and closer to your center, making you squirm under him.

“Please, Satoru, I need you. I need to feel you inside me.” Your voice is so needy, and it’s all he can take. He needs to feel you, to claim you, to make you his. He slides down, his tongue flicking over your clit, making you gasp, your hands in his hair as he devours you. You’re so sweet, so perfect, and he can’t get enough.

“You can fucking wait, I am taking my time. Got it brat?” He scowls up at you, only serving to apparently further excite you, as more of your arousal seeps out of your puffy lips, drooling out of your tiny hole as he spreads you wide.

“Y-yes, Toru.”

He bites the fuck out of your thigh now, and you cry out, as he sucks on it, leaving a giant red spot glistening. “Say that better.”

“Are you trying to make love or be kinky!? Crazy fucking-ow!” You’ve earned a smack on your perfect cunt now, and you hiss, jerking at that.

“Don’t worry that pretty head about figuring me out, baby, not yet, maybe never. Now, I said to say that better.”

“Yes, Sir?”

You end him now, as those words slip out of your lips, tentative and afraid, as you look down at the man between your legs. And you should be afraid, because you’re Satoru’s now, and he won’t let you go.

“Good girl.” He cooes again, watching your pretty face as you melt for him. Satoru’s tongue circles around your clit, as he slides two fingers into your wetness, feeling how tight you are around him, how you clench around his digits. He’s going to stretch you, fill you, make you cum until you can’t take it anymore.

You’re moaning his name, your hips bucking against his mouth, and he loves it, he craves it.  “Satoru! Ah!” You cry out, your hands are entwined in his hair, as your hips buck up and he tastes you.

Fuck you taste so good.

“Mine, say it.”

Your POV

The possessiveness in his voice sends a shiver down your spine, as his tongue is working on you so goddamn good you can’t function. You struggle as you grasp his silky white hair, as a million questions should be swirling in your fucking mind, but there is nothing but how much you want him. Fuck you want him so much, no you crave him, no you need him.

You can feel his passion, his desperation, his need to claim you, to erase the memory of Suguru’s touch. And fuck if you’re not gonna give in, to let him take you, to let him consume you, to make everything else disappear. You are dying to feel every bit of his touch, every bit of his tongue, as it slowly circles your engorged little clit, and you’re screaming now.

“My name, say it. Say it.” He murmurs, blowing on your clit now, and pleasure is shooting through your stomach, making it clench.

“Satoru. Satoru. Satoru!” He’s humming on your clit with his moan now, his huge hands gripping your thighs as he drinks you. “Satoru…”

“Mmm…” He leans up for a moment, moaning as his brilliant blue eyes stare up at you, and fuck if you aren’t sucked in. “Your pussy is perfect.” He whispers, and you’re falling apart when he slides those two long fingers in your cunt again, pumping in and out, and then watching you, he’s just watching you, fuck he’s praising you!?

“In me, please Toru.” You beg, hips bucking up. “I’m close, please.”

“Oh baby, you're too impatient. No.” He pulls you by the fat of your ass, pressing those fingers up and hitting that spot that fucking blinds you. “You think you tell me what to do, huh?”

“I’m… not telling… I’m begging, fuck!” You cry out as he’s relentless, and you’re about to shatter, as he smirks up at you so goddamn sexy.

“Cum on m'face and let me drink you up. I want to taste you all fucking day, so I can lick my lips and have you on them.”

“Oh my-mnh!”

His words, his fingers, his mouth as he sucks on your little clit then, it fucking breaks you apart, piece by piece, the orgasm shredding your soul as his tongue puts you back together. He breaks you and fixes you, with every flick, every expert touch, as if this man has known your body forever.

As if he owns it completely, and maybe Satoru already does. His gorgeous eyes shut in his own pleasure, you feel him grinding his cock on your bed as he is devouring you, and you cum so hard you’re blinded, you can’t breathe, like nothing exists but him.

He moans as you’re soaking his face, there’s no other word, no one or nothing has made you as wet as this, even Satoru previously. It’s all over your pussy, your inner thighs, and he’s lapping it up, shaking his head side to side, pressing his hand on your tummy as he shoves his fingers in so deep.

“Too much! Too much! Please!” You beg, but he’s chuckling against you, peering up with a perfectly sculpted face covered in your slick, and he’s licking those stupidly full lips like it’s a gloss.

“Oh baby you don’t get to tell me when to stop. You’re mine, now. Yeah?” He plants a kiss on your clit, overstimulated and throbbing, you simply whimper out a little sound, unable to form a word with the onslaught of pleasure. He leans up now, hand wrapping your throat. “Say it.”

“Yours, I’m yours.” You are mumbling, as he’s leaning over you, still fully clothed in a damn dress shirt and slacks, and he’s soaked with you, you’ve dripped down to his fancy gold watch, as he keeps scissoring those fingers in you. “Toru, let me see you. Please.”

“So eager brat? Can’t be patient, are you too slutty for me?” He says, but you shake your head, hands going to unbutton his stupidly expensive shirt.

“You’re gorgeous, Satoru Gojo. Wanna see you.” You press kisses on the marble skin you slowly reveal, and his hand pauses for a moment, and you hear it, this little sexy whimper from the back of his throat. You hear how fucking much he wants you, you can feel evidence of it pressing on your thigh now.

“Then fucking ask right.” He smacks at your hands again, making them sting, and maybe you should question this incredibly attractive psycho you’re drowning in, the one sliding his fingers up and down your slit, making you twitch.

Maybe you should wonder why you crave this so bad after Suguru touched you, the way it had made you feel disgusting, small, horrible.

But Satoru makes you feel so goddamn good, he drowns out that noise in your brain, you can’t even find yourself caring that he knows where you live. Fuck, the idea of him knowing that excites you in some fucked up way, hitting some stupid part of your brain, where feminism has been long gone with this man. It’s all gone under him, under his touch, under his gaze.

God how he looks at you.

How he makes you feel.

You’re craving to touch him so badly, but he smacks your little hands again, and this time it stings bad, but you like it, no you love it. How he takes you over, how small you feel against him, under him. How he allows you no room to breathe, fuck you didn’t need to breath unless it was Satoru Gojo’s goddamn breath.

His anger, simultaneous with his passion, the sweet way he will kiss you, then the furious way he’ll slam his lips. What even is he, who even is he, this man you think you’re falling in love with? Don’t know a damn thing but how you feel, and you feel everything with him, physically and more. Every nerve-ending on fire, as he pulls on every emotion you have.

You’d do anything he asked.

“Can I please see you, touch you, Sir?” You whisper, pouting and blinking those lashes, and you watch him melt over you, groaning all sexy from the back of his throat, and he nods, letting you unbutton each little clear one, they pop and reveal more and more perfect skin, until he sits up.

He eases his shirt off his shoulders now, and your eyes drink in his perfect, chiseled body, the taut skin that ripples across those muscles, lean and hairless aside from a white trail under his belly button. Fuck he’s perfect, you muse as you sit up on shaky legs to run your hands down him gently, exhaling when you feel the heat of his skin.

“If you were smart you’d fucking run from me.” He says then, and you sigh, watching him jerk as your breath touches his chest, your palm right where his heart beats.

“There’s no running from you, is there?” He grins then, yanking the fuck out of your hair, and you moan at it, eyes fluttering shut for a moment in pleasure, as you inhale his scent around you. Fuck he fills something and you can’t exactly say what this is, but it’s everything to you.

“No, there’s no running. Not now, baby. But you don’t want to, do you?” You shake your head side to side, making the pull on your hair even better. You crave him so goddamn bad you can’t think, as your cunt is throbbing around nothing, painful at how much you crave this man.

“Let me suck you, Toru... Ah!” He smacks you right across your cheek, gently, but he sure fucking did, and it feels good, you cling to him more, moaning.

“You’re not learning quickly, are you? Or you like me fucking teaching you?” He yanks your hair so hard it’s ripping, and he’s breathing right against your lips as you feel tears pricking your eyes, and you love it so much you’d ask for another hit. But that terrifies you. “Don’t make me hit this pretty face again, be a good girl.”

“Maybe I like you smacking my face.” You whisper, and his brows raise, and you feel his heart beating hard against his chest. “Don’t you hate me, Toru?”

“Hate you… hate everything about you. How beautiful you are. How your face haunts my every dream. Hate that all I can think about is how many ways I can make you cum, when you’re offering to please me.” He’s caressing the cheek he smacked, tilting his head and looking at the other. “And you’re still asking wrong. You’re being a fucking brat.”

“Let me suck you pleae.” You take another smack, and you cry out, it stings so goddamn good you straddle him, and he groans, as you grind on his lap, mouth devouring his.

“Little slut. Little freak.” He groans out, gripping you so goddamn tight you can’t breathe, you swear you feel your damn ribs creak when he’s pressing on your ribcage, as he shoves you off him then, glaring at you, eyes glazed over. “I’m trying to be sweet and you’re pissing me the fuck off, brat.”

“Sweet huh!? You smacked me.”

He smirks. “Lovingly.”

You roll your eyes, huffing. He’s kinda right, and you’re mentally fucked, honestly. “Psycho.”

“Slut.”

“Sadistic stalker.”

He smirks then. “And? It’s your fault. Don’t be so fucking yummy.” He’s shoving you back down the bed, and you’re wriggling to get up, glaring at him.

“Let me suck your dick, why not!? I want it in my throat.” He moans then, lowering his head onto yours, and you feel his exhale tickling your lips.

“Such a whore.”

“For you.”

“Fuck you for saying it. For making me believe it.” He’s kissing you again all desperate, his voice breaks, and you’re yanking at his hair, dying for him, rubbing your bare pussy eagerly against that thick length.

“It’s true, I need you. Let me please you back. Alone, not with him, just us… please.” He eases away, off you, and then he sees it.

You need this.

“You're gonna do a good job, be a good girl for me?” He whispers, and you nod quickly, cunt dripping as he finally stands, and you’re on your hands and knees, sinking into your old soft mattress, impatiently grabbing. He smacks at your hands again. “No, you wait until I tell you.”

“Yes, Sir.” You watch his hands shake as he takes off his black leather belt, you’re damn near drooling.

“Sit there and be patient, yeah?” You just nod, earning a smack again, and you bite your lip. “Should beat you with this belt.”

“Could you? Ow!” Satoru’s yanking your hair again, as he pulls that perfect long cock out, and you see how swollen that pink tip is, all reddened and precum is slaved all over the little line there.

“So slutty, just calm the fuck down. I’m going to show you how to actually suck dick. And yeah, you’re good, but I mean take it all. Now…” He yanks you to sit on the edge of the bed now, lining his cock with your lips. “I’ll show you what I couldn’t when you were with him.”

“Show me, please… Sir.” You say, not wanting another smack, and he grins then, fangs glinting off the light of your room.

“Mouth open.” You do exactly as he says, tongue out, and he’s cupping your face almost sweetly, shoving his cock in your mouth, so deep you choke, and he’s groaning, pulling back now, letting you suck on him. “When you sucked me… ah… could only think… how I wanted you alone.”

You’re crying now, as he holds your face so tight, as he’s fucking your throat so deep, you’re breathing through your nose, looking up at him, his beautiful blue eyes so dark with lust they’re difficult to handle. But you do, you look at him, as his face is contorted in pleasure, as his thin white brows lower, and you’re drooling around the corners of your mouth.

“Thought how pretty your - ah- eyes were. Like a fucking idiot. Hate that, hate you, hate everything- s’perfect I-” He’s just fucking your mouth, your throat, and you’re taking him as well as you can, as he’s deeper and deeper, as he’s sucking out all the oxygen you have.

Satoru is so deep, pushing past your uvula now, and you struggle to take him all, he’s so long, but his moans push you past your limits. You’ll do anything to watch his pretty face like this, to feel his hands tremble, his hips pause at moments. You suck him hard, cheeks hollowing as your tongue swirls around the veins that wrap him.

You’re whining out when he’s pressing his hands around your throat, and Satoru is groaning now as he feels the bulge in your throat, his other hand wrapping your hair into a fist, snapping his hips harder and harder. You struggle so hard to take it, it’s not something you’d experienced, as he fucks every frustration in your sore throat, making you even wetter, even more sensitive.

“Fuck you’re s’good at this. Goddammit. Fuck.” He eases back a bit now, and you cough a bit, as he swipes that drool off your mouth, gripping your face with his hand, squishing your cheeks. “You haven’t even asked if I let her suck me.”

You flush at that, clearing your throat, stroking his cock that’s slippery with all your slobber, and his head tilts back, his hands clinging to your neck now. “I don’t believe him for shit. So.”

“And if I did let her? Huh?” You pause then, sucking in a breath, as your mind starts to whirl.

“I’d fucking hate that. It would make me so upset. I’m sorry.” You blink away tears, as he bends down now, on his knees for a moment, face level with yours.

“Aw, I won’t get to fuck girls with you?” You blink in embarrassment, as you struggle to focus.

“I hate the thought of you with anyone. I hate it. Even seeing you kiss Shoko upset me more than Suguru, and I didn’t know why. I didn’t-” He’s slammed his lips back on yours now, cutting off your words, and you melt against him, lapping up all the fury he was putting behind it.

“Such a selfish little bitch, huh?” He says, and you just nod, as he’s cupping your face so carefully, his eyes drinking you in. “Why?”

“I only want you to touch me.” He moans again, shoving his tongue in your throat, the kiss is so desperate and messy, and you struggle to focus on where you are, who you are, as Satoru kisses every thought from your fucking mind.

“I have only wanted you long before you were mine.” He says softly, the danger and desire mixing in his deep timbre, stroking your hair and sighing. “He’ll never touch you again. No one will.”

“Please, please… Satoru, I need you in me. Please.” You’re begging so hard you’re fucking sobbing, and finally he’s shoving you into the bed, and before you can take a breath he has your leg on his shoulder, and his cock buried to the fucking hilt. “Oh my god! F-fuck! Toru!”

“Is that what you’re begging for, needy little slut?” He whispers those words through gritted teeth, you just nod mindlessly, as your little cunt stretches to accommodate his thickness, and he’s got his hand braced on your thigh, pressing it further, sinking impossibly deeper, making you scream.

“Yes, yes, yes…. Thank you. Thank you. Need you.” You’re whimpering, stuttering, as he’s pulling back, making you hiss a bit at the pain, before he’s shoved back in, hitting even harder. “Want you. Want you.”

“Yeah baby, do you? How should I fuck this pretty pussy? Hard, fucking break it? Or easy, and break your stupid little mind.” You are already stupid, you can’t think when he’s on top of you.

“You do anything you want to me, Satoru Gojo. Please. Anything.” He groans now, slamming into you so deep you can’t take it, you’re already close, that white stubble above his cock tickling your exposed clit as he just grinds that tip against your cervix.

“You’re mine to do anything I want, huh? Ya sure about that?” You just nod, and he’s now fucking into you, hard, long strokes, but they’re slow, agonizingly slow, keeping you right on that edge.

“Anything, anything.” You say, breathless between strokes, you can’t keep your goddamn mouth shut, not when Satoru Gojo’s cock is deep in your cunt.

“What if I want you pregnant? What if I want you to- ah- never leave me?” He demands, and you don’t even care, you’ll get pregnant, you’ll do anything, as his length is stroking in and out. You’re so soaked you can hear every slutty stroke of your pussy squish in the room as he’s wrecking your insides.

“Do it. Fucking do it.” You mumble, eyes rolling back as he presses in, and you cling to his bare shoulders, letting out pathetic whimpers. “Cumming, cumming-ah!”

“All over this cock, good girl.” His words make it worse, now you can’t breathe, as the climax washes over you, knocking you off this existence, now you’re somewhere in space, with Satoru moving over you.

He’s filling you so deep, and now he’s rocking against you, leaky tip grinding inside your cervix, your eyes lock onto his, as his lidded gaze drinks you in, his long, snowy white lashes fluttering. But he never doesn’t look at you, he’s enthralled, pressing that thigh even further, rolling his hips just so, hitting every spot you have, discovering more you didn’t know.

You gape, your mouth opening and shutting stupidly, as he’s biting that lower lip, and he brushes your hair back softly, then something hits, and hits hard, you can’t even describe it. When he’s so vulnerable then, when he’s so deep, and a drip of sweat falls from his chin onto your lips. You lap it up, your own hands coming to cup his face, as you roll your hips.

“Satoru… I…” You struggle, you can’t say this stupid shit. Can you?’

“You’re perfect.” He says, rolling his hips again, watching as he tears you apart, makes you into a trembling mess. “Wanna get you pregnant, want you to never work, never leave.”

His words should scare you, he should scare you. Satoru is a red flag, but you don’t seem to care, in fact it makes it more heady, it makes you wetter, the insane shit he’s saying. “Then do it.”

“Do it!?” You nod, rolling up again, and pressing you lips up for more of his brutal kisses.

“Give me it, your babies. In me. Please!” Now you’re so close again, and he’s groaning, shoving your thighs up so high you’re smushed, and your struggle to breathe, while he’s fucking into you so deep like this, so deep you can’t stop yourself from cumming around his length, spasming, making him tense.

“Never leave me. Never.” He says, maddening eyes, and you should hesitate, but you fucking can’t, you can’t with him.

“Never. Never, Satoru-ngh!” He’s fucking you so hard, so deep now, bending down to hold your face in his huge hands, as his cock shoves in so deep you scream in pain, but fuck it feels good.

“Never, never. Can’t. Won’t- let- ah- you go. No.” He’s fucking insane, you see it in his maddened state, it’s like he’s consumed, consumed by you, and you gasp at the intensity, as he’s fucking you so hard, as the smacks are loud in the room. “Mine, mine. Mine, say it.”

“Yours. Yours. Yours.” You are his, how could there have ever been anything, how when his hot, full lips are on yours, how when he has you bent in half, how when he’s railing the fuck out of you.

It’s all Satoru Gojo.

“I’m filling you up, baby, you better fucking take it all. Can you, take all of me? Can you?” He’s asking it in so many ways, and you barely register you’re sobbing when a strangled sound comes out.

“Yes, yes. All of you. Give me it.”  You plead, and your foreheads touch, as he’s stretching your eager pussy, making it so sloppy wih each thrust, as he slows, and shoves so hard it hurts, but you want it.

You want every bit.

“Make you a fucking mommy. Keep you knocked up. Got me?” He whispers, fucking insanely, but you nod, you can’t speak anymore. “Beg for it.”

“C-can’t… t-talk…” He’s groaning now, hot breaths brushing your bruised lips, reddened from all his kisses.

“Beg for it. For me. Now.” His words are jerky, broken, and you finally gasp a bit, struggling to form a word.

“Please, please…” He smacks you again, kissing the spot as soon as he does, and you almost cum.

“Not yet. Not yet. Say it… better.” He demands, jerky movements halted, as your stinging cheek keeps getting kissed.

“Please sir?” Another smack, and you whine out. “Please, what the fuck do you want me to say!? Lemme have your cum. Your babies.”

“Ask better, fucking brat.” He says through gritted teeth. “Ask me better. Perfect, beautiful goddamn bitch, bane of my fucking existense.” You should hate those words, but you’re throbbing now, so goddamn close even though he’s just staying still.

Your eyes are filled with tears as your face is reddening, overheated, overstimulated, dying for him. “Please, give me babies, Sir. Ow, what!?”

“Better, do better.” You pause then, disoriented, blinking in confusion, your brain is too stupid and fucked out to think.

“Please, please, want your babies in me, s’bad… Daddy please, fill me up with them-” Satoru is groaning now, eyes snapping shut as he’s slammed into you, making you choke on your words, on pleasure, and you’re crying, it’s just so much.

“Good girl, that’s it, that’s it. Take it, baby, take everything. You’re gonna get knocked up right here, right now, in your slutty little cunt.” And with those words, he’s cumming, and you’re coming, and it’s so fucking much cum. He’s pulsing inside you, and you feel it, feel his hot cum filling you up, coating your walls as your cunt sucks it up.

Like she wants these babies, how couldn’t she, how couldn’t you, when this man you barely know has claimed you like this? You’re shaking, your walls clenching around him, begging for more, even though you know you can’t take anymore, and now Satoru is coming down from his high, panting and looking at you, pupils just pinpoints, as he slowly shoves that cum deeper, as you’re shoving it with how hard you’re pulsing.

“Holy fuck… I… Satoru, I…” You can’t breathe, you can’t think, you’re just sobbing, and you expect him to make fun of you, but he pulls you close, caressing your hair now, gently.

“I know, I know baby.” He murmurs, as you sob against the crook of his neck, as you cling to him. “I know.”

“I don’t even know. I don’t… Satoru, I’m falling I- and you’re insane, and you scare me, and you I think stalk me, and-”

“You’re falling for me!?” He asks, leaning up with shocked eyes, and you just continue to sob, trying to grab ahold of him, to tether yourself.

“I know that’s crazy. I kn-know you’re fucking insane. Maybe you fucked my literal brains away.”

“You’re falling for me?” He’s squeezing your face so hard you wince, grabbing his wrists, he’s panting, and your thighs are aching.

“Yes. Yes I am.” You can’t fucking lie to him. You can’t lie to yourself. “Make fun of me, call me a stupid slut, call-”

He slams his lips on yours, and your teeth click as his kiss sets you into another realm again, as you realize you’re in love with a psycho, with an evil best friend. As you realize you’d get knocked up, with a man you barely know, if it made him happy. You have no time to question this as Satoru is consuming you.

“Don’t fucking lie to me. I can’t take it.” He’s crying you realize, his gorgeous eyes glittering, and falling on high cheekbones. You ease your legs down with a wince, getting up on your elbows, your messy hair strown around your breasts as you’re caressing his face.

“I don’t lie. I should have told you last night about him… Satoru I am so sorry, I was scared. I didn’t know if you’d believe me. I-”

“He won’t again. He won’t. I swear I will make sure of it. No one will ever fucking touch you, baby, you got it? No one but me.” Your heart races at his intensity. “Falling for me?”

“Yes, for you, Satoru Gojo. Fucking psycho.” You are met with another furious kiss, with his insane gaze, with his huge hands taking over your little body, squeezing every curve and line, wrecking you further, as if you had any more to go. “How many times have you watched me?”

“You don’t wanna know. Just know I’ll keep you safe.” He’s kissing you over and over, and it’s too easy to fall into, to shove your brain far away. “Just know it will only be you for me. Only you. How could he have seen anyone esle?”

“Oh, Satoru…” You’re clinging to him, as he holds you so tight. “I was so afraid, I felt so worthless.”

“He is. For all of it. Should have been me, your first. Me.” You nod, as he drinks up your sobs, as he strokes your hair. “I love when you cry, you’re so fucking beautiful, you know?”

“You’re so insane.”

“I know. I know, baby.” Soon it’s the evening, and you’re starving, Satoru is ready to go fucking kill Suguru. “Let me get him now. I’ll just cut off some fingers.”

“Wait… what about our date?” Satoru looks you up and down, smirking.

“You’re a mess, I fucked the shit out of you. You can’t go anywhere like this.”

“So I’ll get ready. And you get ready.”

He glares. “You’re trying to fucking distract me. I need to go deal with this, then we’ll have your fucking date.”

“Satoru you’re still hurt from him, please… I can’t let you get hurt. Not because of me again.” You’re clinging to him as you stand by the front door, and he sighs.

“I need to deal with him. I can’t let him touch you again.”

“So is there another way, other than assault and cutting fingers?”

“Nope.”

“Satoru!”

“What!?” You sigh, thinking for a minute, then you look up at him, smirking, so devious, and his blue eyes narrow, as he bends his tall body over you. “Wait…you have a fucking idea, don’t you brat?”

“Sure do. Shoko.”

“What about her?”

“I have her number. Why don’t we expose Suguru being an all around piece of shit to her? Really ruin him.”

Satoru’s smiling now, a wicked glint to his eyes. “You know what? I like that. You’re so fucking clever.”

“Wait, is that a compliment?”

“You look like a bimbo, you have ugly sheets, everything is gaudy and pink, your-”

“Okay, got it, still hate me.” He actually smiles, and he’s so handsome then it hurts you. How is this deviant so precious. “Do you still hate me?”

“Do you think I ever did?” He asks, countering your question.

“I mean, you said it alot. A lot.”

“Because I hate how much you make me feel, just existing.” He brushes your hair back now, studying you.

“It’s the same for me, Satoru.” You whisper, clinging to his hand. “You’re so fucking toxic.”

“So the fuck are you.” You’re both kissing again, brutal now, so brutal you re bust open his lip, and the blood is pouring, but he doesn’t care, he’s got your wrists in his hands, pressing you against the wooden wall of your living room. You’re panting, desire in your core again, though your pussy was hurting so fucking bad. “Toxic little brat.”

“Toxic fucking man.”

“Such a stupid little girl.”

“Such an idiot man.”

You don’t care there is blood on your lips, you lick it right off, and he moans at the sight, snatching you up against him, wincing as you know he’s still sore in places. “You’re too goddamn beautiful. How can we go on a date if I can’t leave your perfect little cunt?”

“We’ll go on a date tomorrow. And… we’ll put that shit into action. That means, mmm, Satoru…” He’s sucking down your neck, down your breasts. “No killing or assaulting tonight, got it?”

“Fine, but tomorrow?”

“No, you sadistic stalker. No killing.”

“We’ll try it your fucking way, but I know it’ll end bad, I know in my heart he won’t just stop.” He pulls away, serious now. “He said to me he’s hurting you because I don’t care for myself. He’s not done, do you see!?”

“You’ll keep me safe then.” You whisper, and he sighs, shoving his entire weight against the wall.

“How can I do it all the time!?”

“Choso will help me at work. I know it’s weird, but…”

“You all didn’t fuck.”

“No, we didn’t. How’d you know?”

“He wouldn’t let you go once he did. Perfect pussy. Evil.” You giggle, you fucking giggle, as this murderous stalker is hovering over you, as he’s caressing your face. “Mine, you’re fucking mine. Remember it.”

“You’re scary… scary hot. You know that?” He just stares, he’s just bending down and looking into your fucking soul.

“I’ll do anything to keep you now. Do you know that?” He asks right back, and his words hold an insane intent. You nod, shyly almost, as he exhales, eyes dropping to your lips, reddened with his own blood.

“Date tomorrow. Take me somewhere fancy, rich jerk.” You shove at him, but he’s pulling you against him so tight it sucks away the breath from your lungs.

“You better be right then, because if not, your date night is gonna be digging his fucking grave.”

Shit.

Disclaimer I don't condone stalking but it's Yandere Gojo so he gets a pass.🤭🙃

Ao3 chap:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58179796/chapters/150076474

[mm-lurking]

From the distance - Blade

Since he never made an effort when you tried to befriend him, you gave up and stuck to your own business. Yet somehow, he’s there when you find yourself in trouble.

A/N: Another fic where I just want Blade to be my knight in shining armour. Once again written when I was sleep deprived for several nights straight. The best ideas do come when you are out of your mind fr. No idea where I was going with this tbh, I just kept writing. Sorry if it's ooc and kinda dragged out! I tried to write him as well as possible. Warnings: Blade x fem!reader, some violence, blood and tension between you and Blade. NPC with a CN name, I'm not sure if I used the Chinese name the right way? Apologies in advance if its wrong! WC: 4754 --- Another night at the Xianzhou Luofu. Another meeting with the Stellaron Hunters. In contrast to the calm night outside, Blade impatiently taps his feet as he glares at the door. You’re supposed to be here in the room ready to begin the meeting. Kafka is supposed to be here too but that’s not the point. The point is you and where you are. Some time passes by and the door slowly creaks open. He snaps his head around hoping it's you- only to see Kafka. The tiny glint of anticipation fades away quickly and his usual stone face replaces it, but it is not quick enough to slip by Kafka.

“She’s not going to be here Bladie.”

Kafka chuckles as she walks in and takes a seat at the table. He glares at her.

“I did not ask.”

“You didn’t ask about her indeed, but your face betrays you.”

He scoffs and looks away in the distance. The woman observes him for a moment and smiles.

“She had another meeting to attend urgently. Took me by surprise honestly. She came running here two hours ago hastily explaining herself and apologising before running off again. How amusing.”

Her eyes do not leave Blade’s face as she talks. In her lifetime of working with him, never had she seen him so…agitated over a mere mortal. A mortal he claimed he didn’t care for or wanted to associate with. Another chuckle leaves her lips and she waves her hand dismissively.

“Well since it’s just the two of us we can postpone the meeting.”

She gets up from the chair and turns around to walk away only for Blade to stop her.

“Kafka.”

“Yes?”

“Who is she meeting?”

She places a hand on her waist and smirks. He says nothing more and continues staring at her face waiting for an answer.

“I thought you said you didn’t care?”

“Kafka.”

His tone suggests he is in no mood for jokes. She sighs and shakes her head.

“She’s meeting Mr Li Qi.”

“..?!”

Kafka observes his startled expression and pretends to be clueless as she taps her finger on her lips. She knew what she was doing of course.

“What’s the matter, Blade? You look like you’re in deep thought.”

“You knew she was going to Li Qi and let her go on her own?”

Kafka shrugs.

“Why not?”

His jaw clenches and unclenches as he looks straight into her eyes.

“You know how dangerous that man is.”

“Oh come on Bladie. She’s more than capable of handling him. After all, she was the one who approached him first.”

His eyes grow wide momentarily before returning to normal. Several thoughts are running in his head but the main theme is along the lines of how stupid and foolish you are. Li Qi, a businessman on the Luofu was notorious for his shady practices and downright unethical behaviour. To the common folk, he was a simple successful businessman but to those who had intel on him or many connections across the Luofu, they knew of his true identity and what dangers lurked in associating with him. He was cunning enough to protect himself and the business from the eyes of the law while simultaneously maintaining his illegal proceedings.

“You didn’t attempt to stop her even once?”

Blade’s voice is laced with concern and disbelief as he replies.

“Why should I? Who are we to interfere in her plans? We are not saviours.”

In contrast to her unconcerned-sounding words, her face is the complete opposite. She displays a small smile, intently watching Blade to see what he would do.

“…”

Silence fills the air. There is a faraway look in his eyes as he stares at the entrance door.

“You should have told me earlier.”

He says calmly as he suddenly stands up and walks towards the door, taking long strides as if he urgently had to leave.

“Whether you decide to protect her or not…it is all part of Elio’s script.”

The way she speaks is as if she was merely watching the pawn move in a game of chess, already aware of every move that was going to occur. He freezes on the spot as he realises.

“You already knew this was going to happen, didn’t you?”

He turns around to look at her and she shrugs, completely avoiding the question before continuing.

“There is a warehouse at Stargazer Navalia where Mr Li Qi frequents. If I am correct, she must be there right now.”

There is nothing more said between the two as Blade nods and opens the door before he walks away in a fast-paced manner. When the door shuts close Kafka stares at the door for a moment before laughing.

“So much for not caring huh? Oh, Bladie..”

—

You could tell something was off since you stepped foot into the warehouse. There were several red flags actually. One, Mr Li Qi asked to meet you in this warehouse instead of a commonplace like the restaurants in Aurum Alley. Two, you weren’t here to look at the items of interest yet so you shouldn’t be in a warehouse in the first place. Three, the silence of the meeting point and how it was conveniently hidden away in a deserted side of the Stargazer Navalia.

You weren’t a fool though. You had purposely walked into this trap well aware that there was something oddly peculiar about this man. Something about the way Mr Li Qi looked and the suspicious tone of his messages told you he was a man worth investigating. You weren’t from the IPC nor were you a Stellaron Hunter, but you sure had made a name for yourself amongst the natives in terms of commissions and business.

Perhaps that is why Mr Li Qi was so delighted to meet you when you first sent a request to meet him. Perhaps that is also why there was a gun pressed against the side of your forehead. The cold barrel, in contrast to your sweaty skin, sent shivers down your spine.

“Tell me miss, surely you didn’t take me as a fool?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

You reply calmly but groan when the gun is pressed harder into your skull. Mr Li Qi is standing behind you with a harsh grip on the back of your neck as he uses his right hand to firmly point the gun at you. You scan your environment to make sense of the danger you’re in. The long eerily hall of the warehouse has almost no inventory; a few boxes of odd things lie around and there are some cardboard boxes stacked over in the corner. They are probably meant as a cover or to fake the appearance of a warehouse. There aren’t many men of his around either, just two bodyguards that currently stand in front of you to prevent your escape and a few other men in the far distance at the door standing like statues.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about? Is that so?”

He mocks your words and grits his teeth. You feel another chill run down your spine.

“Do you take me as a fool miss? I am fully aware of who you are and what you do.”

“I seriously have no idea what you’re talking about. I collect antiques for fun and that’s why I approached you.”

Lies. You were praying he wouldn’t realise you were lying through your teeth. You weren’t here for antics, you were here to investigate a fraud he had committed. One of your family friends had been caught in his traps and this sly fox was able to avoid all legal charges by hiding documents and falsifying testimonies. Having no hope left, the family friend had turned to you for help and considering your ties with them you agreed.

“How peculiar of you to approach me instead of the many, many antique collectors out there. Your interest in the jade pendants of the Xianzhou is very uncalled for considering your job status.”

You gulp. Shoot. No pun intended.

“Who are you to judge my interests Mr.? Especially if it brings you money?”

You retort and immediately regret it when the gun goes off with a loud bang.

-

His breathing is heavier than usual as he finally reaches Stargazer Navalia. The veins on his neck have not stopped popping from how tightly he has been clenching his jaw and gritting his teeth. A flurry of insults goes through his head as he thinks of you while he simultaneously searches for the warehouse. There is no time to rest as he dashes through the tall steel container boxes and small bridges frantically searching for you.

“…?!”

In the distance, he hears the sound of a gun going off and freezes momentarily before whipping his head around to see a large warehouse a couple of meters away. The description of the warehouse fits what Kafka had told him and he dashes towards it. Was that…? No, it can’t be, he shakes off the negative thoughts as he aggressively pushes against the large wooden doors with his body. The lock from the inside breaks into two from the strength he exerts and the doors swing open, revealing several men ready to fight and four figures in the dim light further away.

“Who goes there?!”

Li Qi shouts from the other end, his voice echoing off the walls of the empty warehouse. There are hints of anxiety and anger in his words but Blade says nothing. Instead, he pulls out his weapon and slashes his way through the men guarding the door, injuring them swiftly and easily as they drop on the floor like dead flies. One of them tries to grab onto his leg and he stomps on the guard’s chest, making the guard scream in pain. He sneers.

He takes longer and faster strides as he approaches where you are and your figure becomes clearer with each step he takes. A small sigh of relief leaves his lips as he realises that you’re still alive. The look on his face is deadly with his eyes ablaze and he glares at the two bodyguards blocking him from your view.

-

Eventhough you are not one to be afraid of danger, the gun going off right next to your head has you shaken up. The vibrations of the gun ripple through your skull and you can feel a headache setting in. Lucky for you, the gun lacks bullets as you’re clearly still alive after he pulled the trigger. Li Qi mumbles a bunch of insults under his breath as he attempts to refill the bullets only to stop as the warehouse doors open with a loud thud. Both you and your captor flinch at the unexpected event, confused at the commotion by the door.

You hear Li Qi yell but you don’t register what he says. Your eyes are on the figure that violently makes its way through the appointed guards of the warehouse, like a tornado destroying everything in its path as it gets closer to you. It is when the figure stands in your line of sight do you recognise -it is Blade.

“Bla-“

He looks at you immediately when you call out to him in a raspy voice. Unfortunately, Li Qi prevents you from finishing his name as he cocks the gun and roughly handles you making you wince. Blade’s grip on his weapon tightens trying to control the urge to cut off the man’s head on the spot. In contrast to your situation, Blade notes that you look calm for someone who is in the hands of death.

“Shut up or I will put a bullet through your head”, Mr Li Qi seethes. “You are lucky I forgot to replace my bullets- wha-?!”

A loud slash resounds in the air as Blade can no longer stand the nuisance and brandishes his weapon in front of the bodyguards causing Li Qi to quiver. He gives the men no chance to prepare for how rapidly he makes use of his sword, cementing his prowess as a swordsman once again in front of you. You close your eyes not wanting to see the bloodshed as a chill goes down your spine hearing the clashing of swords and grunts of the bodyguards. Before you know it, it’s just you, Li Qi and Blade left in the warehouse. The loud groans and whines of the guards fill the air as their wounds hurt. There are streaks and splashes of blood all over the floor but none of that bothers Blade however as he stands in front of you, his eyes flickering back and forth between you and your captor.

“D-do not take another step! Or- or I will kill her!”

Li Qi panics and screeches as he points the gun at your saviour and then back at you. All you do is flash a tiny smile at Blade. You’re tired, exhausted and the bruise forming on your neck and now the side of the forehead hurts. The willpower you had at the beginning of the situation has started to waver as you feel stale and unable to turn the tables. And with a splitting headache that only seems to get worse, you don’t have the brainpower to think either. You watch how he continues to look at you silently with eyes that carry concern and anger.

“Let her go.”

Blade states firmly. It is not a request, it is an order. The businessman looks visibly shaken from how his men are lying on the floor and the threatening command of the Stellaron Hunter. Instead of obeying, he frantically runs his mouth again.

“You, I know you! Aren’t you the guy that the IPC wants?! You’re a criminal yourself, how dare you tell me what to do?!”

Blade scoffs. You gulp, knowing this won’t end well. He says nothing and simply repeats his warning.

“I said let. Her. Go.”

You know he is not talking to you but somehow you’re starting to shiver in fear too. This man has always avoided almost any interaction with you yet here he was, asking your captor to release you with such a menacing aura. This side of him was so rare and frightening to see that you were silently praying you would never have to see it again.

Li Qi refuses to comply and Blade hmphs before drawing his sword once again and striking the arm of Li Qi. It all happens so fast that you barely have the chance to move as the blade whizzes past your ear and hits Qi. The gun drops from his hand on the ground with a loud thud as he wails in pain, clutching his injured arm with the other. Blood is trickling down his hands and arms and it splatters on your shoes. You stand there for a while stunned at what’s going on only to be brought back to your senses when Blade grabs your hand and pulls you into his chest.

“Huh-? Oh-!”

It takes you a moment to register your position. Your hands have subconsciously gripped his coat to steady yourself and his free hand is loosely hanging on your lower back. You can’t see his face from this position but you can hear his loud heartbeat and the way he takes slow deep breaths. He smells like blood and the finest mix of musky perfume, a scent you are unfamiliar with but still welcome. Suddenly you find yourself feeling flustered and awkward and try to pull away from his body only for his arm around you to tighten.

“B-blade?!”

Li Qi is still yelling and wailing behind you but being in Blade’s arms has somehow blocked it all out, like a magical shield that is keeping you safe. Your own heartbeat starts to increase as his crimson eyes meet yours and he maintains eye contact without breaking away.

“Fool.”

He finally speaks and you are baffled.

“What?”

“You are incredibly stupid.”

“Excuse me?”

“Is your hearing impaired?”

“My head is aching very badly, thank you very much.”

What the hell is with this man?! You scowl at the way he talks to you. You no longer want to be in his arms anymore and use your strength to push yourself away but to no avail. Frustrated you smack his chest grumbling at him.

“I’m ok now, can you let me go? Sheesh.”

As you both are bantering, behind you, Li Qi stumbles to grab his gun from the floor. There is a cruel smile on his face as he lifts the gun, points it straight at the back of your head and presses the trigger.

“…!”

Blade’s eyes suddenly narrow as he pushes you into his chest once again and hauls his weapon up to cover your skull just in time. You gasp as the bullet ricochets off his weapon with a loud shing leaving you stunned. You tremble in his arms from the impact, trying to process what just happened.

“Close your eyes.”

He says gently and you obey. All you hear is the sound of his blade being hurled at the businessman and an ear-piercing scream that makes your blood curdle. You squeeze your eyes shut tighter. 

“Keep your eyes closed.”

He commands you and you nod. You feel the loss of his body warmth as he detaches himself from you and walks towards the businessman. Li Qi is lying on the floor with the sword piercing his chest as he gasps for air. He attempts to grab his gun again which is a few centimetres away from his fingers only for Blade to stomp on his hand and kick the gun away from him. You flinch at how the businessman screams.

“Holding an innocent hostage is a greater sin than mine.”

Blade says as a matter-of-factly and removes the sword from his chest. Another nightmarish scream rings in your ears and you open your eyes from the discomfort you feel. You don’t even want to turn around and see the state your captor might be in. Blade walks back and faces you, frowning when he sees your eyes open.

“I told you to keep your eyes closed.”

“I-I tried-“

“It doesn’t matter. Do not look back.”

“Okay..”

You reluctantly listen to him, feeling extremely uncomfortable at how the situation has evolved. A moment of silence passes before you speak again.

“Is he…dead?”

You watch him look behind you and hmph before replying.

“If he isn’t now…he will be later.”

“But if he dies…I will be implicated..”

“No one knew about your meeting except Kafka, Li Qi and I, correct? There should be no issue then.”

“Blade that’s not how it-“

“You nearly died.”

Blade says coldly and you feel your heart drop.

“I nearly died yes, but this-“

“Why are you so complicated to deal with?”

“…what?”

Now you feel anger bubbling in your chest.

“I was not the one who asked you to barge into the warehouse by the way.”

You hiss at him and he glares at you.

“And you expected to survive? Alone in this warehouse?”

“I don’t see why that bothers you.”

“Your foolishness will get you killed one day.”

“Even if it does, how does that impact you? Not like you want me around anyways.”

Your head was pounding, the bruises on your neck and forehead stung, you were fatigued and shaken up and this man was simultaneously insulting your intelligence and capabilities. Of course you were agitated. Blade stares at you for a moment before sighing.

“How it impacts me has nothing to do with you.”

“Are you even hearing yourself?!”

“He would have killed you easily.”

You press a hand against your forehead and take a deep breath. Why was he arguing with you?

“It is I that will be in deep trouble if Mr. Li Qi dies, not you or Kafka regardless of who knew about our meeting. I have a reputation to maintain unlike you. And by the way, I did not need you to save me. You don’t even care about me and frankly, you don’t even show an ounce of cooperation when I try to work with you.”

You take a step closer to him. Tears brim in your eyes as you express your frustration.

“If my death were written to be tonight,” you look him straight in the eye, “it wouldn’t change a thing in your life. In fact, I am sure you would be glad of my riddance.”

Audacity flows through your veins as you jab a finger in his chest with each word you speak. Tears stream down your face and your throat closes up from the emotions that swarm you.

“So don’t tell me how to feel. You have no right to do so.”

He looks at you, speechless and shocked at the way you’re behaving. In the blink of an eye, you furiously wipe your tears before dashing off. Everything hurts and you feel like you’re suffocating. You pay no heed to the injured guards or the blood all over the floor as you run as fast as your legs can take you away from this place. You don’t even turn to take a look at Blade’s reaction. So much for fulfilling a request. So much for simply wanting to do the right thing. It was supposed to be a simple mission, why did it turn out like this? And why, out of all people that could come save you, was it Blade that had become your saviour?

You weren’t trying to cozy up to him, you weren’t trying to take advantage of his power, you weren’t trying to do anything at all. You simply wanted a mutual alliance for the sake of teamwork but he didn’t even bother to reciprocate. All those times he left you hanging, making you feel embarrassed, making you feel like a fool…how dare he come to your aid and then proceed to make you feel like you weren’t even good enough?

You finally stop running when your legs grow weary. It takes a moment for you to realise you’re still in Stargazer Navalia though you’re not sure where exactly. The winds of the night are gentle as the moon shines brightly in the sky. At least it was all over right? At least now there will be no more cases of scamming and threats from Li Qi, at least now your family friend can finally breathe in relief, at least you’re still alive after all that so why, why do you feel worse than you did when you entered the warehouse?

You sit on the stone pavement near a large steel container, hugging your knees and sobbing your heart out. The bruises sting once again and you wince. You wince harder as you softly trace the bruise on the back of your neck. God, was it that bad? How long had Li Qi held you for you to bruise like this? Doesn’t matter. There was no point in thinking about it any further. You didn’t want to think about anything at all.

“There you are.”

A familiar deep voice rings in the distance and you look up to see Blade again. His breathing is heavier than usual and he sighs in relief as he lays his eyes on you.  How the hell did he even find me?! A scowl forms on your face and you bury your head back into your knees, unwilling to speak to him. He stands there for a while before coming closer to kneel in front of you awkwardly.

“Are you hurt?”

You roll your eyes knowing he can’t see them. Given that you don’t answer, he places a hand on your forehead and pushes your head up causing you to yelp. You try to resist but his strength overpowers yours.

“Leave me alone.”

You say coldly, refusing to make eye contact with him as he examines your face for injuries. He ignores your reply and frowns at your tear-stained face. One look at the bruise on the side of your head and his frown deepens.

“I should have killed him the moment I saw him.”

“W-what?!”

He ignores your reply again as he wipes the tears from your eyes. You flinch at his odd behaviour but don’t push him away. His hands drop from your face to your neck to observe the bruising.

“Stabbing him once didn’t suffice.”

The soul leaves your body as he states his murderous intentions to you absentmindedly while looking at your injury. How was he being so caring while mentioning such things?!

“Y-you you can go now…”

Blade shakes his head.

“You’re injured. You’re lucky these bruises are all you have. I was afraid that the gun…”

He trails off and looks in the distance again. For a man who lived and breathed murder and blood, he sure was hesitant talking about you nearly getting shot. You blink at him, shocked at the words coming out of his mouth. Was this…his way of showing care?

“I would have stabbed him over and over if he had shot you.”

You freeze and Blade feels the way your neck muscles tighten on his fingertips. He gives you a small smile that further scares you.

“I-If you’re saying these things to make me feel better you can stop now. I’m fine.”

“I am speaking my honest opinion.”

A blush creeps up on your face and warmth surges through your body. This hot shot was capable of being nice after all. You feel his fingers cup your face again as he softly strokes your tear-stained cheeks. The cool breeze toys with your hair and he gently pushes the loose strands away, not breaking eye contact with you. You don’t understand what he’s trying to do but you let him be.

“I…I did not mean to hurt your feelings earlier.”

You scoff and turn away.

“If anything had happened to you, I am unsure if I would be able to forgive myself.”

That statement alone makes you snap your head back to him and he smiles at you, his eyes softening with such warmth that it makes your heart beat faster. A smile so authentic that it almost makes you forget he is a wanted criminal with a 9 million bounty.

“You…should have told me you were meeting Li Qi earlier.”

“I would have if you bothered to listen when I talk.”

You glare at him and he sighs. Conflicting emotions are swirling in his eyes.

“I had no interest in talking to you before.”

“Do you find joy in insulting my existence or what?”

You fume as you push yourself up from the ground, wanting to get away from him. Blade follows suit as he immediately puts his arms around your waist, tightening his grip which makes you gasp.

“Blade what the hell is wrong with you?!”

“It is unsafe for you to go back on your own.”

“At least I won’t have to deal with you.”

His eyebrows knit together as he looks at you concerned.

“I cannot have you get hurt again.”

“Geez I am not a baby- Blade-!”

You barely finish your sentence as he picks you up bridal style out of nowhere causing you to tightly hold onto his coat once again. You squeeze your eyes shut as dizziness takes over and bury your head into his chest. A soft chuckle escapes his lips and you can’t help but smile at how he sounds. Any happy emotion from him is foreign to you yet cute at the same time. The loud heartbeat that vibrates from his chest soothes you somehow and that metallic musky scent of his calms your senses. Despite how he drives you crazy, you wish you could remain like this for as long as possible. Not that you would ever say that out loud.

“You will be safe from the law as long as you’re with me. I will have Kafka take care of this mess.”

Despite your protests on how ‘ I want to do this the right away’ and ‘I can tell the cloud knights the truth’ he just completely ignores everything you have to say as he walks away from Stargazer Navalia with you in his arms. A small smile of amusement is plastered on his face as he pays no heed to your ramblings about the law or the consequences of his actions. He never listens to you, does he? And for once, you don’t mind it either. ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ©mm-lurking 2024 do not copy, steal or reuse my work.

[certainlynotasimp]

Our Love

(Miguel O’Hara x Female Reader)

A/N: Hey everyone~✨ I’m writing this request thingy after I um had kind of a bad day. Not to get too personal, um parents can suck. Like they can hurt your feelings and not care. So I wanted to write this because I kinda wish that I had parents like Sunny and Miggy tbh. Anyway enough with that~✨

A/N: TikTok spoiled some of the movie for me so I’m kinda mad but I got to think up some more Sunny lore for you guys. This is part 2 of Our Girl and forgive the ending because I ran out of ideas. If you like my work please check out my master list and if you wanna stay up to date with the series, then comment on this Taglist and you’ll be added. To see what’s coming up next then check out my upload schedule.✨

If you are someone who has struggled with Postpartum, Child loss, anxiety with pregnancy, or any trauma related to child birth and child bearing, feel free to skip this if you don’t think you can handle it. Your well being is more important, so go read some fluff, drink some water, and if you don’t have anyone giving you kisses then here: *platonic kisses*

Warnings: Grumpy x Sunshine, Female Reader/Female pronouns, Barely use of (Y/N) ((Sunny is their nickname, not their name)), angst, trauma, mentions of child loss, anxiety around pregnancy, and Google Translated Spanish.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bouncing fear blooms as the repeating drumming of her pacing feet in the confined walls of the bathroom stall. The constant nagging of her god mother comes back to haunt her like the remains of her muffin tries to climb it’s way back up.

The three minute timer on her phone felt like an eternity as the white piece of plastic continues to load up the bullet that will end everything she’s built up for herself so far.

She was head of the undergraduate at her biology department at NYU and she had stupidly decided to go out to some party with her friends to celebrate the end of the school year. An embarrassing hook-up occurred with her having to sneak out without even getting a good look at the guy. Of course she assumed that her drunken self would have used protection, but unfortunately, alcohol doesn’t always encourage good decisions.

She thought that the sudden spouts of tossing her lunch up was simply due to nerves as she was applying for a work study program with Alchnemax, but the sudden repulsion to her god mother’s cooking is what really set the dread into motion. A dread she swallowed down with a big smile as she pretended her whole life wasn’t changing in an instant. She held onto the hope that maybe it was just nerves bothering her until today.

Her interview with Alchnemax went exceptionally well. The woman was aware that her chances of being accepted were low despite her high academic achievements due to A) she’s a scholarship student, B) she’s some poor kid from Brooklyn, and C) she was an orphan without any cushy family legacy behind her.

Two of the three department leaders of the Genetics department already decided her fate as they had those noses turned up at her, but one just looked at her with kindness. He gave her a chance. And if it wasn’t for that the others wouldn’t have heard her creditials and wouldn’t have looked at her completely impressed. The man who looked at her so proudly gave her a wink as a way of showing he was sure I was gonna get it. Not in the creepy sexually charged man way. But like how a father would their child.

Her first friend here. Dr..

The beeping from the phone alarm catches her attention as she turns to look at the white stick of destiny. Her whole life is forever changing today one way or another….

~~~~~~~~~

“I’m what?” She gasps as she looks up at the red and blue man in a lab coat in shock.

She had just awoken hours after she had experienced the most bizarre incident that landed her in the infirmary. She had met a girl from an alternate dimension where she and Miguel were normal people who had a family together, and their daughter was that universe’s Spider-Woman.

Their Daughter…their baby…

“You’re pregnant, Miss. (L/N).” Spider-Doc says cheerfully as he places a cold device on her stomach. A monitor appears from the small device with a familiar picture of a small little bean inside the black vast of her womb. A baby…

“It looks like you’re about 6 weeks along based on the size of the fetus and it’s a good thing we found out when we did. Mr. O’Hara would have had our throats if he….”

The doctor’s words fell on deaf ears as the woman’s eyes focused intently on the image in front of her. The sounds of their pounding heart beat challenges the drumming of her own as her fingers lightly trace the image. She was so small…so defenseless.

Just like he was…

“D-does Miguel know?”

~~~~~~~

Positive.

The test mocked her as she watched her Godmother hold onto the plastic piece with an unreadable expression. The twist of her dark mauve painted lips causes her glowy skin to crack under her dark eyes. A hand pushes back the freshly installed knotless braids as the clinking of the golden charms twisted her stomach more.

April was the one person the girl could always rely on the most in the world, having raised her since she was eight years old. She was the only real mother figure she’s ever known and always pushed her to her hardest. April always made sure that the two were always fed, clothed, and pampered, and the only thing she ever asked for was for her godchild to bring home all A’s and to have a smile.

April taught her to value education both in and out of school. She made sure she could solve any math problems as best as she could without a calculator and how to make sure to know which doors she can knock on if someone was following her at night. April made sure she knew her Spanish well so she can have bigger opportunities in the workforce and to know respect for the Parra’s down the hallway.

April had a baby the same time as her best friend Maria and promised each other to be each other’s godmothers so their daughters can always be best friends just like their moms.

But, Maria lost her life while April lost her baby.

“How far along are you?” The older woman asks with her dark warm eyes misting over as she looks at her god child.

“I don’t know, maybe a month and a half…” The own girl’s body shaking as sobs built up in her chest as she looks at her now smiling godmother.

“Do you want to keep it?…”

The question hung in the air as the women’s combined shaking forms as the woman honestly didn’t think about it before.

~~~~~~~~~

When the spider got released from the infirmary, she immediately turned off her gizmo as she turned invisible. She shakily avoided everyone she could so she could go to her room without seeing anyone.

She couldn’t bring herself to see anyone. Not with this. She knew if Miguel wasn’t on a mission right now then he would have already been at the infirmary waiting on her, but she wouldn’t be able to look him in the eyes. It wasn’t fair.

One of her hands rests on her stomach as she navigates the hallways before finally reaching her room. She waited until no one was paying attention to slip in and turn back to normal with a painful sigh. She forgot how painful it was to do that without her suit helping her. Miguel specifically made it so her powers wouldn’t put as much strain on her heart than it already did.

Her back hits the door as she finally collapses with a shaker breath. The reality of the situation was finally kicking in as she placed both hands on her stomach. She was pregnant with Miguel’s child.

Something that definitely wasn’t supposed to happen. Sure, she can argue that if the anomalous event hadn’t have occurred and destroyed her dimension , she would have never known about the Spider Verse or even met Miguel…

But she’s accepted that whatever relationship they were in wasn’t going to be able to manifest more than what it was. Two broken people who fell in love and were trying to make the best of their circumstances.

Due to her being from an alternate dimension, there isn’t a canon event that could possibly let her be able to live with Miguel and start a family…it would just destroy every thing…

‘Would Miguel even want this baby?…’ She though as she runs one of her shaking hands over her cheek as anxious tears rolled down her face. ‘What if she has powers like us? What if they aren’t healthy? Would he want to get rid of it because she’s an anomaly….’

She didn’t have the same support system as she did when she had her son, Ben. She didn’t have April who would sooth her anxieties of motherhood and made sure that Ben had diapers at home. She didn’t have the Parra’s who would bring her supper some evenings in exchange for letting the infertile Valeria babysit her boy when her and April were busy. She didn’t have the corner stores where they always hid back some cans of formula for her and gave her son lollipops.

Her son…her baby boy that she failed…

The image of his lifeless little body appears in her vision as she remembers the way his body was limp in her hold. The way his little face was so frozen in fear when he used to always have the biggest smile on his face…

“What if I fail this one too?”

Her thoughts cause sobs to rip from her body as she curls her knees up to her chest as she thought about all of the possibilities that this baby would ruin it…

Then Maria’s face came to mind. The young spider girl that was only a few years younger than she was when she found out she was gonna have Ben.

With the girl’s face burning in her mind, the woman stands up and immediately storms out of her room. Her blurry eyes burned as she made her way to the one place that she knew would have answers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ba dump ba dump

The pounding sound fills the room as the pair of women stared in awe at the monitor. A little squirming being about the size of her hands shined against the black background of the screen as the OB-GYN wiggles around the cold wand over her stomach.

“Oh my…” A teary smile appears on the older woman’s face as April clenches onto her astonished Goddaughter’s hand. The 14 week old fetus was facing the camera as his little legs wiggled around enough to barely turn him over.

His mother stares at him with such wonder as to how she could have made that.

She knew the whole biological process of how it’s down and what to expect at each step, but just seeing him there, barely even big enough to see him, was her baby.

“There he is. A perfectly healthy baby boy.” The OB smiles at the mother and gently traces his little face on the monitor. “Do you have any ideas for names yet?”

April smiles at the girl lost in wonder and decides to let her have the moment she remembers so well from her own pregnancy. April runs her thumb over her child’s knuckles as she answers.

“She wants to name the baby after her parents. They died in a car accident when she was young. If it was a girl, her name would be Maria and if it was a boy, his name would be…”

“Ben.” The mesmerized girl finishes her sentence as she looks back at the doctor with a bright teary smile. “His name is gonna be Ben.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey boss.” Lyla cautiously calls the man who was frantically trying to find his missing love.

After he returned from stopping a Prowler anomaly, Miguel immediately went to the infirmary to find that she had left hours ago and no one else has seen her since the young SpiderWoman was sent back home.

He thought she was fine when he last checked on her when they shared a happy tear feast over how wonderful their daughter was before she had fallen asleep from crying.

“Not now Lyla. I’m trying to find (Y/N).” He grumbles as his nerves twist his stomach around.

It wasn’t like her to go off the grid like this, not without at least telling Miguel that she wanted some quiet time. He clenched his fist as he feared that meeting Maria may have caused his Sunny to fall into a bad spell of depression since…

“She’s in the observation room looking at the Web.” Lyla answers like she was annoyed that Miguel was listening to her. “But that’s not what I’m talking about. There’s something strange happening to your-“

Lyla is cut off by Miguel turning her off as he speed walks towards the observation room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The tiny wail broke the chaotic tension in the room as tears of joy flood out of the exhausted woman. The squealing babe was placed on her chest as the doctors returned back between her legs to remove the placenta. Her trembling hands came up to soothe the baby boy as his slimy body trembled in the new environment. His dark hair matted to his soft head as his mother placed a delicate kiss on her baby boy’s forehead.

“Hello, Ben.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

Miguel storms into the observation room as the target of his search stared silently at the glowing red spiral of webs. The images of the Maria of Earth 1784-B played out on a holographic image as she looks like she was tussling with the two boys he recognized as Maria’s brothers. An image of that world’s Miguel comes up and playfully picks up the three with a stumble before throwing them on the couch with a laugh as his wife comes up and laughs behind him.

The family that Miguel dreamed about every night. The one he tried to achieve twice in different ways before it was stolen from him. The one he can’t help but crave with his beloved but knows it probably won’t happen.

“Cariño?….” His voice barely as whisper as he approaches his lover as she jumps in surprise.

Her teary eyes stared at him in alarm as a protective hand was placed on her stomach.

Miguel ignores that detail, believing that she was just mourning her lost baby boy, and gently placed his hand on her cheek, softly wiping away her tears.

Her eyes shine with untold anxiety as her choked sob caused Miguel to pull her into his chest. “Estoy aquí mi amor. Háblame....” He whispers softly into her hair as he wraps his arms tightly around her.

Her own grip traps him against her shaking body as she cries into his chest. Her worries slowly spilling out as she sobs, “ It’s not fair…”

“I know. “ Miguel mumbles as he rubs the base of her skull softly to provide some relief from the pain. “The universe is cruel…”

“It is…” she agrees as her breathing eventually evens out enough for her to pull away slightly to look up into his concern burgany gaze. “Miggy…Tengo algo que decirte... pero tengo miedo de que te enfades conmigo…” She admits with an unstable edge in her voice.

Miguel frowns at this as he cups her face. His concerned love filled eyes closes as he pulls her towards his lips. He kisses her forehead before resting his own forehead against hers. His eyes opening as an encouraging smile shines at him.

“No, mi sol, nunca me enfadaría contigo. Especialmente si te está causando tanto estrés.” He mutters as he feels his beloved’s hands wrap around his thick wrist, using his pulse to stablize her.

“Really?” She looks for reassurance as her swollen eyes searched his for any doubt.

“Yes. I’m sure…”

~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey, beautiful!” A voice cheers as she enters the hospital room.

The new mother was propped up on a the hospital bed with her newborn son swaddled up in a soft blue blanket. She stops admiring the sleeping babe to smile up as April walks over with a bright smile and a beautiful bouquet of Carnations. Their petals were a soft pink with a baby blue ribbon wrapped around the glass vase. April places the arrangement down as she sits beside the bed.

“So that’s my grandchild?” She asks as she reaches over and gently caresses the bundle. Ben stirs for a moment before settling back down. The young mother nods and slowly moves the baby into her god mother’s arms.

The new grandmother accepts the baby happily as she leans back and gently coos at the sleeping Ben.

“You’re gonna have him spoiled.” She jokes as she admires watching how the older woman’s eyes light up as the baby’s face twitches.

“Grandbabies are for spoiling while children are made for scolding.” April quips back playfully as she giggles at her Goddaughter. “Oh, your boss brought those by the apartment. He said he hopes you’ll bring the little guy by the lab when he’s big enough.”

A confused frown takes over her face before she realizes that her mentor must have been the one she met. Working at Alchemax during her work study and pregnancy allowed her to get close to the board member that gave her the chance to work here. Him being a father himself, he took the pupil under his wing and helped her a lot during this time, even easing her worries with embarrassing tales of his own parenting blunders . He was more of a friend now than her mentor.

As April entertains herself with the infant, the mother reaches over and plucks the card placed on the top of the flower arrangement. She holds the card gently as she read the note, a soft smile.

‘Congratulations, kiddo. You made it to parenthood. You better bring that boy here to hang out with us because I need something more interesting to do than listen to Osborne’s voice all day. Signed, Dr. …. ‘

~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Excuse me!!” A visual of Lyla appears beside the couple with an annoyed expression. Her irritability can be heard as she stares at the startled pair before glaring at Miguel.

“If you’re done being a couple of cry babies, I have some urgent news!” She snaps before pulling up a familiar red webbing with an odd addition wrapping around its nodes.

Miguel frowns in concern as he sees a blue web intertwining with the red nodes of his canon while his sunshine looked shocked.

This was not a normal anomaly…

“What is that?” Miguel asks while Lyla scoffs.

“Your canon is changing, but not from an anomaly.” She explains. “Your universe is fixing itself.”

“Fixing itself from what?” Miguel growls as he’s growing frustrated at the rude behavior the AI was expressing.

“From the bun in your sunshine’s oven.”

And with a quiet what, the big bad Miguel O’Hara falls over and passes out.

~~~~~~~~

Translations:

Estoy aquí mi amor. Háblame….—-I'm here, my love. Talk to me....

Tengo algo que decirte... pero tengo miedo de que te enfades conmigo…—I have something to tell you...,but I'm scared you are going to be upset with me…

No, mi sol, nunca me enfadaría contigo. Especialmente si te está causando tanto estrés.—-No, my sun, I would never be upset with you. Especially if its causing you this much stress.

~~~~~~~~~

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[parkersbliss]

your instagram when dating spencer reid

inspired by @/happiesthotch @/hotchaways :)

Liked by garciagirlie, alexblake and 374 others

ssa(y/n) love his clown feet 🫶🏼

view all 27 comments

spencephd love her baby feet ❤️

rossisrotini I didn’t know they could be nice to each other

→ jjareau she texted me after posting this and said he slam dunked her with a pillow

→ ms_emilyp @/ssa(y/n) use two exclamation points if you need help

→ ssa(y/n) HELP‼️‼️‼️‼️

→ agenthotch wheels up in 20, you heard her

d.morgan oh to see pretty boys feet

→ ssa(y/n) my eyes only 😡😡

→ spencephd im not sure how to feel about this

→ garciagirlie I could get you photos of lots of feet

→ agenthotch I think we need to have a talk about this

→ garciagirlie i meant my feet with fresh new nail polish* 😁

→ agentahotch 😐

liked by therealellew, jjareau and 427 others

ssa(y/n) pov garcia & morgan are on the phone

view all 33 comments

garciagirlie where’s my chocolate thunder

→ d.morgan right here baby girl 😏

→ spencephd we can’t escape them

→ ssa(y/n) but we can do worse ;)

→ ms_emilyp @/agentahotch do something about this

→ agenthotch no

rossisrotini I beg of you both to not become like them

→ spencephd now you’re just tempting us to do worse 🤷‍♂️

→ ssa(y/n) I await those glorious hands of yours, doctor

→ jjareau what have we started

→ ssa(y/n) ITS FOR A MASSAGE CHILL 😭

→ d.morgan could’ve fooled me tbh

liked by itsmattsimmons, d.morgan and 503 others

ssa(y/n) someone didn’t pass the physical fit test

view all 17 comments

d.morgan is he looking for a trainer 👀👀

→ garciagirl no. never again with you.

→ spencephd literally leave

→ jjareau we’re doing just fine without you 😘

ms_emilyp reid looking to outrun his paperwork

→ ssa(y/n) more like reid running to catch some bitches

→ spencephd so I’m chasing after you?

→ ssa(y/n) 😡😡

agenthotch who’s not doing paperwork 🤨

→ rossisrotini exposed like the lazy kids you are

liked by spencephd, agenthotch and 292 others

ssa(y/n) got my bitch <3

view all 19 comments

Spencephd 😐

→ ssa(y/n) notice how you didn’t correct me

→ spencephd can’t even tie her own shoes smh

→ ssa(y/n) LMAOOO that’s what you’re for SIMP

garciagirlie the love birds are at it again

→ jjareau love birds sounds more like enemies these days

→ d.morgan isn’t that the fun in it?

→ ssa(y/n) yes, he literally just threw the shoe at my face 😇

rossisrotini @/agenthotch got another case for ya

→ ms_emilyp that’s the sound of the police reid 🚨

→ spencephd you know statistically, it takes the police an average of 7 minutes to get to the scene. I could be long gone by then.

→ d.morgan I can hear him through my phone

→ spencephd :)

liked by alvarezluke, rossisrotini and 338 others

ssa(y/n) candid of my favorite nerd 🤭

view all 31 comments

spencephd I’ve been exposed 😟

→ ssa(y/n) wanna be exposed in a different way?

d.morgan looks like we got competition @/garciagirlie

→ garciagirlie 😏 been exposed for years to you baby

ms_emilyp 🤢 I’m moving back to london fr

→ jjareau take me with 🙏🏼🙏🏼

→ garciagirlie GIRLS TRIP

→ ssa(y/n) LETS GO

→ ms_emilyp not you ❤️

rossisrotini 🥂 cheers you two but keep it in your pants

→ ssa(y/n) hard to when he’s this fine 😫

→ spencephd actually die

agenthotch this is what we call a hostile work environment

→ d.morgan you weren’t even there for that hotch

→ agentahotch I have my ways

→ garciagirlie please don’t bring back such traumatizing memories

→ jjareau clearly we need to have this conversation again

— END —

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a/n finally got around to writing some criminal minds stuff 😫

[harmonicakai]

As Long As You Care

Part 1 of the "Somebody Else" series

Pairing: Soobin x Reader, Yeonjun x Reader

Summary: From the moment he first met you, Soobin has had the biggest crush on you. The only thing standing in his way is his college roommate, Yeonjun, who you’ve been in love with ever since you were little.

Tropes: love triangle, unrequited love, fake dating, frat boy!yeonjun, nerd!soobin, roommates, college AU, childhood best friends

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: drinking, sexual tension (mdni!), curse words, yj is an asshole

A/N: TBH I feel like this is one of my weakest works so far, but I really like the concept and already have the whole thing planned out, so I will try and see completing it through <3

“If you could see that I'm the one who understands you Been here all along, So why can't you see? You belong with me" —You Belong With Me, Taylor Swift

“If you have a crush on Y/N, then go for it,” Yeonjun laughs, surprised that Soobin would even bother to get his permission, as if he wants your hand in marriage or something.

“Really? You don’t mind?” Soobin blinks back, unsure of whether or not his roommate is being serious. You’ve been friends with Yeonjun since you were little kids, so Soobin figured that running the idea of asking you out by him was surely the right thing to do.

“If you’re worried about whether me and her are more than friends, don’t be. If we were going to start dating, we would’ve when we were in high school. God knows it would’ve made our moms happy.”

“Would you help me then? You know her better than I do,” Soobin continues, eager for tips on how to properly woo you. “Do you know her favorite kind of flowers?”

“Can’t say I do,” Yeonjun shrugs. “Listen, Soob, Y/N is a hopeless romantic. And she’s never even had a boyfriend before. I’m sure whatever you come up with will exceed any and all of her expectations.”

Yeonjun’s excuses for why the moment doesn’t need to be special are precisely why Soobin wants to take so much care in planning things. It would be your first date, first boyfriend, first everything.

Well, except for your first kiss, which Yeonjun had graciously stolen back in middle school, years before he had even introduced you to Soobin. Both of you have asserted that it was only once, and simply for you to get it over with before a school dance in the hopes that your real crush would make a move.

Soobin would be lying to say he doesn’t get jealous of the two of you. Plus, Yeonjun is totally wrong. From what others have said, you’re extremely picky when it comes to guys.

“So, when are you going to ask her?” Yeonjun says, snapping Soobin out of his trance. “She’ll be here any minute if you wanna do it then.”

“She’s coming over now?” Soobin asks, his palms feeling infinitely more sweaty. He hasn’t had any time to do his hair or choose a good outfit, let alone run to the store and pick up any of the little presents he had planned on getting for you.

“We’re going to get breakfast. Some new café she’s been dying to try,” Yeonjun replies, his mouth full of a croissant. Soobin rolls his eyes. If the two of you are about to go out to eat, why the hell is he stuffing his face right now?

Soobin checks his watch. If he leaves now, he’ll surely make it back before the two of you return. “Can you make sure that you guys come here when you’re done?”

“I can make no promises,” Yeonjun sighs, staring at his reflection in the hallway mirror. He throws on a pair of sunglasses, his phone ringing to signal that he’s gotten a text, most likely from you. “Y/N is going to meet me outside. It’s now or never, dude.”

Soobin glances out the window and spots you standing in the courtyard, wearing a floral sundress that hugs you in all the right places. The sunlight shines down on your hair, leaving a glow that makes you look absolutely angelic. He swallows hard.

You’ve made yourself comfortable on a bench just outside, your feet propped up on the arm rest. 

“It looks like she’s been waiting a while,” Soobin observes.

“Yeah, I know,” Yeonjun says nonchalantly. 

“Shouldn’t you hurry up, then?”

“Why are you asking so many questions?” Yeonjun scoffs. “Since you’re so concerned, I’ve got a date after this, okay? Well, if you can even call it that. Point is, I need to look good, and that takes time.”

“I guess I’ll just ask her another day, then,” Soobin sighs in defeat, backing away from the window. He knows better than to push Yeonjun. “Listen, will you do me a favor?”

“Depends on what it is.” Yeonjun is still admiring himself, now unbuttoning even more of his shirt. He might as well go topless at this point, Soobin thinks to himself.

“Could you maybe mention me and see how Y/N reacts?” Soobin asks, adjusting his glasses.

“I will for 30,000 won,” Yeonjun deadpans, not even bothering to look Soobin’s way.

“Are you joking?” 

“No. I don’t care if you guys date, but I certainly won’t be making it easy for you. She’s my friend. If you become her boyfriend and start taking her out, that’s less time she’ll be spending with me.” Sometimes, most of the time, Soobin really hates his roommate.

“You suck,” Soobin says, reaching into his wallet and handing over a few bills. “Here.”

“Pleasure doing business,” Yeonjun grins, pocketing the cash. A knock at the door startles both of them. “Why don’t you get that?”

Soobin heads for the door, knowing you’re on the other side of it. He mentally prepares himself, smoothing his hair into place and checking his breath.

When the door swings open, you’re surprised to see Yeonjun’s roommate staring at you.

“Uh, hi,” you greet him. Soobin holds his breath. You’re even more beautiful up close. “Is Yeonjun ready to go? I’ve been waiting downstairs, for like, ten minutes.”

“I don’t think so,” Soobin says, stepping aside to let you into the dorm’s common room. “You’re welcome to wait, though.”

“Thanks,” you reply, stepping in and spotting your best friend fussing with his hair. “Hi Junie!”

“Hi, Y/N,” Yeonjun smiles. He pulls you into a tight hug. “Sorry to keep you waiting. I didn’t see your texts. I just need a few more minutes, okay?”

Soobin knows his roommate is lying, but he’s not going to be the one to tell you that.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” you say, making yourself comfortable on the couch. You turn your attention to Soobin, who you don’t really know much about. “How’s your morning going, Soobin?”

“It’s good. Great, actually! A little busy, but I like having things to do, you know?”

“Yeah, I get that. What are you up to?”

“Mostly running errands. Then later I have to take some photos of today’s soccer game for the school newspaper, go to jazz band practice, and study for my econ midterm,” he rambles.

“Wow. That’s… a lot.” Your eyes widen, wondering how he manages to juggle that kind of schedule. Sure, you care about extracurriculars too, but never enough to risk burning yourself out.

“Soobin is a real nerd, Y/N. If you ever need a tutor for anything, he’s your guy,” Yeonjun calls from the bathroom.

“Ooh, okay. How are you at multivariable calculus?” you inquire. It’s the class you’ve been struggling with the most this semester.

“Math is unfortunately the one thing I’m bad at,” Soobin admits. He opens his mouth to keep talking, but Yeonjun’s finally returned, at last ready to go. 

Soobin watches as Yeonjun’s hand finds yours, pulling you up off the couch before finding its way around your waist. “Let’s head out, babe.”

“Yay! Okay, well, bye, Soobin!” You wave, being pulled along. “I’ll see you around, I guess.”

Yeonjun drags you out the front door before Soobin can even say goodbye, the sweet scent of your perfume lingering in the air behind you.

Soobin waits a few minutes to make sure the two of you won’t be stopping back in before he faceplants onto the couch, letting out a long sigh. At this point, he isn’t sure if he’ll ever have the chance to tell you how he really feels with your “best” friend standing in the way.

—————-

Soobin’s heart nearly beats out of his chest the second he lays his eyes on you. You’re wearing the same sundress from earlier today, but this time without the slouchy cardigan draped over your shoulders, and your hair is thrown into a perfectly messy updo. To top it all off, you’ve got glitter dusted along your neck and collarbone, making you shimmer under the glow of the frat’s neon lights.

He wants nothing more than to lean down and kiss it all off of you. The only issue is that you’re surrounded by a ton of other partygoers who probably all want to do the same.

You’re the only reason he even bothered to come to this party and he might not even get the chance to talk to you. He may not have been of any help this morning, but at least Yeonjun was decent enough to text Soobin and let him know the two of you would be here tonight.

“Soob! I didn’t think you’d actually come!” Yeonjun’s voice startles him as he claps his roommate on the shoulders from behind, his hands still wet from swimming in the pool. Soobin jerks back, nearly spilling the contents of his red solo cup.

“She looks hot, doesn’t she?” Yeonjun continues, glancing past him to see you twirling your hair as you gently let another guy know he has no chance with you. Soobin hates it when he talks about you this way, even if it’s true. “Did you tell her you’re in love with her yet?”

“We haven’t even talked,” Soobin says, his voice barely reaching above the music’s blast. He stares down at his white sneakers, sticky from the spilled drinks and god knows what else is lining the frat’s linoleum floors. “Did you do what I asked you to, by the way?”

“Shit, sorry, man. I totally forgot. But you know what? Maybe we can change your luck,” Yeonjun smiles, feeling a bit sorry for his lovesick roommate. “Me and a few other people are gonna start a game of spin the bottle in the next room if you want to try and kiss her.”

It’s the opportunity of a lifetime. Except when you spin the bottle and it glides past him, landing instead on Yeonjun, Soobin’s heart plummets into his stomach.

You lean past him with a shy smile on your face, wrapping your arms around your best friend’s neck as he pulls you into the steamiest kiss Soobin has ever seen. It’s enough to make him wonder if maybe the two of you have done this more than just once.

Despite being over in seconds, it feels like hours to Soobin. To make matters worse, when you pull away, your lips wet with Yeonjun’s saliva, you wave at him with the most gorgeous smile in the world.

“Sorry, man,” Yeonjun whispers to Soobin, running a hand through his hair, messed up from where your fingers were just laced through it. “Maybe next round.”

If Soobin could fight, he would’ve certainly thrown a punch straight into his roommate’s jaw. But even though he towers over him by a few good inches, he knows that he’d be out like a light and wake up with a black eye that’ll truly never let him forget about this moment.

When it’s finally his turn, it lands on a girl just a few spots over from you and he does his best not to look disappointed. She’s pretty, for sure, but she’s not you. Soobin plants a quick kiss on her lips and the crowd groans.

“More!” an unfamiliar voice chants. The rest of the players join in, although all Soobin can pinpoint is the sound of you nearby, egging him on to make out with another girl.

He relents, enough alcohol in his system to finally let loose, pulling the girl into a fast, sloppy kiss. The crowd shifts to whooping and hollering, and he sees you giggling with one of your girl friends out of the corner of his eye.

It isn’t until the two of you watch as Yeonjun gropes that same friend seconds after the bottle lands on her that Soobin notices a shift in your mood. Your once everlasting smile has been replaced with a blank stare that unmistakably signals heartbreak.

Soobin would know. He was making the same face just a few minutes ago.

Eventually, the game fizzles out and everybody disperses back into the frat’s crowd, still going strong despite being hours in.

After wandering around the party for a while, Soobin spots you at the keg, frustratedly pouring yourself another beer. From the way you’re stumbling, he knows it’s probably not a good idea for you to actually drink it.

“Hey, wait,” he intervenes, grabbing the plastic cup out of your hand. “Y/N. Maybe you should slow down.”

“Fuck off,” you scoff before turning to see who’s interrupted your binge. Your cheeks heat up at the sight of Soobin, Yeonjun’s roommate. He usually never comes to these things and has only ever been really, really nice to you. “Soobin. I am so, so sorry. I’m just going through it right now.”

“I can see that. Do you want to get some fresh air?”

“Yes, please.” He loops his arm around yours and guides you outside, making sure that you don’t trip on any uneven steps or loose cans. 

If it were Yeonjun, he’d carry you bridal style, letting you nuzzle your head into his shoulder until you reached your dorm room.

“You can have some of mine,” Soobin says, handing over his drink as you steady yourself against the porch’s railing. “It’s just Sprite.”

You nod and gulp the entire cup of soda down, the bubbles tickling your dry throat.

“You’re jealous, aren’t you?” Soobin continues, catching you off guard. You turn to stare at him, eyes wide before you fix your expression to something more nonchalant.

“No, I’m not.” He looks back at you with a frown, letting you know that he’s seen just enough tonight to not believe any of what you’re saying. Soobin doesn’t seem like the kind of person you’d want to lie to, anyway.

“Fine, maybe just a little bit,” you admit, crossing your arms in defeat. “I mean, in general, how are girls like me supposed to compete with girls like her?”

“Lots of guys would kill to be with a girl like you. She’s just more… straightforward.” You can tell he can’t actually come up with a better explanation for why his roommate isn’t into you.

“I kissed him the way I’ve been wanting to for years now. I don’t know how much more straightforward I can get. You know, last week, I asked if there was anything going on between the two of them and he told me she wasn’t his type?”

“Who isn’t Yeonjun’s type?” Soobin laughs awkwardly, regret immediately settling on his face as he realizes he probably shouldn’t have said that. He’s right and you know it, though.

“Please tell me they aren’t making out right now,” you change the subject, hoping and praying that the answer is no.

Soobin glances over his shoulder back into the party to see Yeonjun and your friend entangled, his hands gripping her hips as she grinds into him. “He’s… certainly doing something to her.”

“Wow. Okay, that’s all I needed to hear.” You walk past Soobin to stare at Yeonjun and your friend all over each other. It’s a horrifying scene, but for some reason, you can’t tear your eyes away. “You know, I’d hate to see how he is with a girl he’s actually into. Men really suck sometimes.”

“Y/N, look at me,” Soobin says, his voice the steadiest its been all night.

“Huh?” you ask in confusion. Soobin turns you back around, his hand reaching up to brush a strand of hair from your face. It trembles against your cheek as he leans in close to you.

“We can get back at him,” he whispers, both of your heart rates rising by the second. His breath is hot against your ear. “If you want to.”

You can’t believe the words that have just come out of his mouth. Choi Soobin, Yeonjun’s sweet roommate who has only ever spoken to you in the most polite and platonic way, is offering to help you make your best friend jealous.

Your silence makes him backtrack, the panic in his voice evident. He really has no clue what’s gotten into him. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I was just joking! I didn’t actually mean—”

“Let’s do it,” you say, cutting him off. Before he can protest, you’re pulling him back into the frat house and onto the middle of the dance floor, right next to Yeonjun.

Soobin can barely believe this is happening right now, and if his arms weren’t wrapped around your waist, he’d pinch himself.

Usually, you keep to yourself at parties, kindly entertaining men’s advances, but never giving them the satisfaction of dancing with you. Tonight, you’re breaking all of your own self-imposed rules with the guy you least expected to.

“Kiss me,” you say into his ear, loud enough to fight the music’s volume, but quiet enough for Yeonjun not to hear. Soobin looks at you with sheer panic on his face and you know immediately that he’s incapable of making the first move.

At least that’s what you think before he crashes his lips onto yours. Despite watching him awkwardly make out with someone else earlier, he’s surprisingly good at kissing. There’s a hunger to the way he grabs your waist and pulls you closer that makes you smile into him.

As you feel his soft hair beneath your fingertips, you almost forget why you’re kissing him in the first place. When you finally separate, you turn to see Yeonjun staring at the two of you, a sly grin on his face that makes you question if you’ve made the right decision.

—————-

“That was so humiliating,” you groan, trudging down the sidewalk. Soobin trails you like a puppy dog. “He was happy for us. So much for making him jealous. You know, maybe we should just call this whole thing off now.”

“No!” Soobin panics. “I, uh, I have an idea.”

“Which is?” you say, stopping to look at him. You can tell by the way he stares blankly at you that he doesn’t actually have an answer.

“Well… if we keep this up, then Yeonjun will see how great of a girlfriend you are and he’ll want you for himself! Really, we’ve just gotta give it more time.”

Your head aches, but Soobin does make a little bit of sense. “Fine, okay. How long are you willing to put up with me for?”

Soobin knows he can’t say forever. “Why don’t we try until the end of the semester? If he doesn’t confess his love to you by then, then we’ll stage a break up.”

“Sounds like a deal,” you say, reaching out your hand to shake. Soobin hesitates. “I don’t have cooties, you know. Besides, your tongue was kind of just down my throat back there.”

“Right, sorry,” Soobin says, taking your hand into his. It’s much bigger than you expected, nearly covering yours in its entirety. “Deal.”

“Come on,” you say, continuing your trek back to your dorm. “Let’s go.”

“My room is the other way,” he attempts to remind you. You don’t even bother to look back at him, wanting to get out of the cold and into your bed.

“We’re going to mine. Yeonjun is never going to believe we’re together if he catches you in your own bed tonight.” 

—————-

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P.S.: Please shoot me an ask or a reply if you’d like to be added to (or removed from) the taglist! Also, I struggle to keep up with different lists for individual members, but if you really don't want to be tagged on all of my works, just let me know and I will do my best to keep things separate <3

[itz-mfkn-de]

\\ALWAYS YOU//. M.R

warnings— OOC MATTHEO, Im a sucker for toxic boys but I made him extra sweet in his one idk why, uhhh not many tbh, cussing, kissing, smoking, that’s all I think.

summary— Mattheo was your best friend, always had been, but was the title of ‘friend’ enough?

-my first work for Mattheo! I will eventually get a master list going once I get more comfertable posting on here. This is a repost of one of my works on wattpad, just with some tweaks bc that work was olldddd-

You sat against mattheos 𝐛𝐞𝐝, 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 out of his dorm window.

"You know, some times, I'm worried for you. You just stare at things, it's weird." He snickered  as he took a drag from his cigarette.

You looked at him and scoffed, "Sometimes I'm worried about your lungs, you're bound to get some type of problem with all that's smoking you do." You half-joked, glancing at him.

He rolled his eyes, tilting his head up and blew the smoke out of his mouth.

"Seriously Mattheo, that stuff is absolute horse-shit for your body." You stated, accompanying your words with a sharp glare.

"I don't do it that often, just when I'm stressed." He muttered, taking his feet off of his desk and turning his body to face you.

"What happened to the whole 'I don't give a fuck about anything or anybody but myself' thing?" You said, mocking him to the best of your abilities.

"First of all I don't fucking sound like that," he laughed and squinted at you "second, just stressed about life, nothing in particular." 

You softly chuckled at his reaction. His eyes broke from yours, looking at some papers on his desk. Your eyes, however, never left his frame. You could stare at him for eternity, everything about his face seemed so perfect, almost as if it were meant to be admired.

You soon realized your staring and quickly averted your gaze towards the window again.

"You gonna go to the Yule ball this year?" You broke the silence, you knew Mattheo hated those things, he hated having to be around a shit ton of people and act like he enjoyed their company.

"Probably not." His demeanor changed, his tone became short, almost snappy.

"Oh, I'm probably just gonna go with Becca." You mumbled, knowing that if no guy was to ask you, Becca had your back.

"Hm." He nearly laughed at your remark.

"What? What's so funny?" You asked, looking back at him, his back still facing you.

"Just surprised you aren't going with a random slytherin guy or something." He answered, but the way he had said it has a strange undertone that you weren't sure how to feel about.

"Well I mean I don't know, I haven't been asked yet." You stated truthfully.

"Ah, I see." He murmured, soon after taking another drag of his cigarette.

You felt tension building in the room, suffocating tension. You weighed your options out, but you decided it would be better to give Mattheo some space, for what you were unsure of.

"Well, Becca and Emma told me they wanted to go dress shopping earlier so I think I'm gonna head over there so we can solidify our plans." You announced while picking up your books and putting them in your bag. 

"Bye Mattheo." You said while walking out of his dorm, expecting a response.

You shut the door when you got nothing, you mind raced with the possibilities on what could've caused mattheos strange behavior.

Maybe he'd just had an off day? No that couldnt have been it, he was fine moments before his attitude took a turn. 

Perhaps he was just having mood swings, you wouldn't be surprised with all the trash he puts in his body.

You stuck with that story and walked back to your dorm, which was on the other side of the slytherin tower. 

You reached it, setting your things down, then quickly turned around and nearly raced to your friends dorm.

The second you reached it, You waisted no time to jump on her bed, causing her to jump. 

"Yes, of course you can come into my room unannounced and lay on my bed." Becca said sarcastically. She had been digging through her closet in an attempt to find a dress. 

"Sorry, I just need to vent." You said while propping yourself up on your elbows.

"Go ahead." She sighed and laid her body weight 

"Okay so, there's this guy. He's like my best friend, but.."

She raised her eyes brows, signaling you to continue.

"But I want us to be more, or atleast I see him as more than a friend. I just feel like no matter how hard I try I can't get him to open up, he just.. won't."  You groaned.

"And everytime I get this sliver of hope that I've made progress, he just completely shuts down, leaving me in the dark confused and a little bit heartbroken!" You borderline screamed, your face shoved into her mattress.

"Okay, uh, let's calm down. If he's not showing any signs of being interested maybe you should just, move on- well attempt to at least." Becca stated ,rubbing your back.

You shut your eyes, truly taking in your friends words.  “hey Yknow what will make you feel better?” She nearly jumped with excitement. “Going to look for a dress in town.”

You knew she only had good intentions but the words kept echoing through your head. The thought of keeping Mattheo as a friend hurt, but it seemed to be all you could do at this point without ruining your friendship.

Maybe she was right.

Maybe you needed to accept Mattheo 

was just a friend.

-

All you could think about was the Yule ball. Over the next few weeks the days flew by, the anticipation growing larger with each one passing.

Of course you had been asked by some sweet guy from the Ravenclaw house, and, taking Becca's advice, you said yes.

There was nothing wrong with him, he just..he wasn't him.

You had decided to get ready alone, slipping into a beautiful green dress you and Becca had picked out. You finished your hair and makeup, looking into your vanity mirror.

You felt beautiful.

You smiled softly at how well you had dolled yourself up.

Glancing up at the clock, you rushed out of your dorm room, realizing it was the time you and your date had agreed to meet at the entrance by. 

You walked gracefully through the halls, a large smile adorning your face. Your heels tapped softly against the ground. You neared the entrance, your breath becoming shallow from the nerves. 

Then you saw Becca, she was wearing a beautiful Maroon dress. She looked absolutely breath taking.

"Hey!— oh my gosh." Becca looked at you, her jaw dropping. 

"You look stunning! Like some type of goddess...." She said barely above a whisper.

"Becca! Stop, you can't be talking, I forgot how to breathe the moment I saw you." You hugged her.

You were about to continue praising her and her beauty, but before you could comment you heard someone call your name.

"Y/n..wow.." he said, just loud enough for you to hear.

You turned around to see your date, who was wearing a very clean red and black suit. 

"Oh my gosh hi! Sorry for being a tad late, I lost track of time while getting ready!" You made your way next to your date, not before Becca gave you a sly smile and a push, leaving to go with her specimen she had chose for the night 

"It's okay.., you look amazing." He had said, taking your arm into his. He began to lead you into the ballroom.

"Thank you, I must say, you cleaned up nice." You smiled sweetly at him.

You and him entered the large room full of people, everything was elegant and royal, not a single speck of dust on anything.

You looked around the large room as your date led you down the stairs, you couldn't lie, you felt like a princess. The beautiful architecture of the room, complimented by your stunning dress, felt like something straight out of a fairy tale.

Once you had made it to the bottom of the staircase, you excused yourself away from your date in an attempt to go find Becca again. 

You stumbled past groups of people, many of them were couples having a romantic moment. 

You tried your best not to run into anybody, you dodged dancing bodies and nearly jogged across the dance floor.

You almost missed him.

You almost walked right by him.

You almost could've saved yourself the heartbreak.

But no you saw it—him with some random Hufflepuff girl. 

The way he whispered in her ear, the way she giggled a little too sweetly, everything. 

It all made you wanna cry—or throw up, which one that would be you weren't quite sure about yet. 

"Y/n?" Theodore came beside you and patted your back.

"Theo-Theodore, I thought Mattheo wasn't coming to the dance?" You struggled to get your words out as your eyes darted between the scene before you and Theodore. 

"Oh—uh yeah, he wasn't gonna originally, but some girl asked him and I guess he took a liking to her because usually he just brushes everyone off." Theo answered.

"Oh, I see, I just came to say hello. I'll be on my way now." Before Theodore could argue with your strange behavior you turned your back and walked as quickly as you could back to were your date was. 

You abandoned the idea of going to find Becca, you couldn't accidentally run into Mattheo and his.. friend again.

Instead you decided that distracting yourself with your date would be the best thing for your heart at the moment.

"Hey, sorry , I just saw a friend and got distracted." You said, out of breath.

"Oh. Don't even sweat it, I'm just glad you didn't run away and not come back." He joked, dragging you towards the dance floor. You couldn't help but laugh at his bubbly personality. It was a nice change of speed.

"I hope you like to dance." His hands fell onto your hips, yours made their way to his shoulders.

"I actually hate it." You smiled at him. 

"How unfortunate." Your smile grew when he matched your energy. You nearly forgot what you had seen a couple moments ago.

But alas, you didn't.

You could feel your chest tightening up, the tears bordering you waterline. Just thinking about him touching that girl in any way made you want to breakdown.

"Ex.—excuse me." You tried to excuse yourself as politely as you could. 

You didn't want your date too see you like this, vulnerable, heartbroken.

You urgently walked towards any door in your line of sight. When you finally found one, you ran through it. 

You just couldn't escape him, no matter how hard you tried. He was at every single corner you turned.

You nearly groaned when you saw him propped up over the balcony, smoking of course. 

He hasn't seemed to notice you, still looking out at the stars. 

You couldn't do it anymore, you couldn't spend one more fucking second acting like you weren't in love with him. 

The sad part was you'd rather be his friend than him hate you and be nothing at all. As long as he thought about you, you'd be okay. 

That's what you had been telling yourself, but you couldn't hold onto that lie anymore. 

"Mattheo." You croaked out behind him.

His head shot to the side, looking you dead in the eyes. 

"Angel… what're you doing out here."  He looked back out to the stars, unable to make eye contact. 

"I can't do it anymore."  You said shakily.

He turned his full body around this time, his eyes a dark brown. He blew the smoke out of his mouth, the wind pushing it in the opposite direction.

"I can't keep pretending I don't feel this way.., do you know how hard it was to watch you talk to that girl?" You nearly cried out.

"All the girls you fuck with and then bring them to shit like this, I cant keep lying to myself —wishing that it was me instead of her."

You were on the brink of gasping for air, your head pounded. You couldn't believe you had suppressed these emotions for so long. Every single time you went to Mattheo's dorm, you could barely restrain yourself from kissing him. 

Before you could continue on with your speech 

Mattheo had forced you against the wall. 

His lips met yours in a harsh collision. In an almost immediate reaction, your body responded to his actions, kissing him back with just as much need and hurry.

"You don't get to fucking do that."  He pulled back from your lips, still making sure to keep his face mere inches from yours.

"Every single day, I'd sit there and watch you talk to this new guy, I couldn't do shit about it— I wouldn't let myself do shit about it."

“I knew you deserved so much better than some lousy asshole like me, angel.” His hand held a firm grip on your hips, his other still had its place on the stone wall. 

"It took everything in me not to punch that fucker in the face when I saw him look at you, but I knew you wouldn't want that." You melted beneath his gaze.

His kisses trailed down your jawline.

"During second year, when I went to the dance, I saw you there with Draco, I nearly killed him right after. I couldn't bear to see you with anyone other than myself.. so I wouldn't go, I knew I wouldn't be able to handle it so I never went to another ball again." He gently caressed your cheek with his thumb.

"Until this year." He mumbled softly in between the kisses he was leaving on your neck.

He brought his face back up to yours, his eyes stormy and clouded with something darker than just simple need.

"What'd he say to you? What did he call you?" Mattheo asked with a dark shimmer in his eyes, one you were hoping was just from the moon.

You swallowed harshly, you hadn't realized how dry your mouth truly was. 

"He just said I looked nice—" 

"Nice? You look fucking ravishing. I've never met a girl as beautiful as you, never once in my life seen a girl who could compare anywhere near you...That's why I call you angel you know...,because even if an angel walked by, my eyes would still be glued on you."

His gentle voice tickled your ears, and your cheeks warmed up beneath him.

"You are my angel."

He kissed you again, only this time it was more gentle. His lips held no rush, they were soft and comforting. 

You were the one to pull back this time, smiling sweetly up at him. He pulled you from against the wall, leaving the two of you in the center of the balcony, under the sparkling stars.

"I can't believe we've been friends all these years, and neither of us made a move."

He spun you around under the moon light, the beautiful sky knocking the breath out of you.

"Hey matty..?”You whispered once he had began to hold you in his arms gently.

"Yes angel?" He matched your tone, the sweet nickname you gave him made his chest tighten up.

"I love you." You closed your eyes, shutting them slowly.

"I love you... I always thought I'd never be the type to say that so freely, guess I just needed to meet the right person." He swayed the two of you lightly, finding a rhythm in the midnight winds. 

"Of course it's you... 

It's always been you."

[joelsgoldrush]

swore i heard you whisper that you preferred us like that

joel miller x f!reader / 5,8k words

summary: you ask joel –the quiet, distant joel– to teach you how to ride a horse. they say the eyes are the window to the soul, and it must be true, because when he really sees you, it´s like he finally understands what you feel for him.

warnings: smut 18+ let’s pretend joel never left jackson, porn with plot, no use of y/n, age gap (reader is in her late 20s, joel is 56), grinding, oral (f receiving), fingering, masturbation, pet names, unprotected p in v (don't try this at home ok), dirty talk, soft!dom joel (sort of???), a bit of angst/feelings, joel gets all babygirl around reader, ellie appears for like a minute, mediocre attempt at recreating joel's southern accent (sorry in advance)

a/n: hello??? well this is my first fic ever so bear with me, i'm still new to all this. also english isn't my first language so i'm afraid there may be mistakes (mostly when it comes to collocations bc i hate them and they confuse me), buuuut i'm learning obviously and if you find anything that should be corrected PLEASE TELL ME thank you :) i'd appreciate if you told whether you liked this story (idk what to call it tbh) but if you don't it's more than fine! anyways thank you so much for reading if you come across this fic, i hope you like it! i've spent a week writing it bc finals season is killing me &lt;///3

here's my masterlist in case you want to read my other works :)

"Oh, my drunken southern star / How you tried to hide in darkness / Slipped from orbit / Now you’re dangerously close / Come out, come out from all your hiding out / We’ll dig in our heels, salute the battlefields / Where our broken hearts were born."

What is it that he has?

You used to ask yourself that question every night as you went to bed. On some occasions, you couldn't manage to come up with an exact answer. There were too many reasons that disclosed why a man like him lingered on your mind, even in those moments that were supposed to be for you and only you. Sleeping more than three hours a day was definitely something you needed tremendously, but still, the not-so-rational voice inside your head kept on bringing his name up without fail, disturbing your rest.

Joel Miller. Was it possible to feel like this? Like you knew somebody without having exchanged more than five words with them? Sure, there wasn't a single person in Jackson who wasn't aware of his existence. From whispered rumors in the streets to stories that intended to give his reserved personality an explanation, Joel became a real talking-point among those in the commune. Years ago, when the world was still just a floating ball in space, he would’ve frightened you, being the kind of person your parents used to warn you about as you started to grow older.

He walked a certain way, as if he were holding the suffering of many lives in his hands. Always on guard, prepared to fight those who defied him. Hidden knives in his pockets, a gun between his fingers, the trigger too tempting to be pulled at any time given. His hair was a mixture of brown and gray, and you swore that the latter was only becoming more prominent as days went by. 

Suddenly, your pillow felt too uncomfortable, your hands fisting the fabric of your t-shirt while you kicked the blanket resting on top of your bare feet. A sigh escaped your lips, the taste of something you couldn't even distinguish on your tongue, your unsteady breath being the only sound to be heard in that noiseless night. 

You were having a hard time figuring out how you felt about Joel (if there was anything to feel in the first place, since he barely remembered your face and there you were, fantasizing about him instead of sleeping.) Maybe you liked how he presented himself, how bossy and persistent he looked the times you caught him patrolling around the zone. Or perhaps it was his character what charmed you in the first place, and the fact that, deep down, a different side from him remained completely unseen.

He was handsome, too. Tall, broad shoulders, aquiline nose. His arms looked majestic in every single piece of clothing he wore, his tanned skin shiny enough to reflect the very same sun. And his legs… you were sure they were muscular like the rest of his body, because of all the physical effort he did. You had  heard that he worked as a contractor before the pandemic, which made a lot of sense. Once or twice you had paid attention to his hands and–

Then, a familiar feeling sinked in. Warm began spreading through your belly, your thighs involuntary clenching together. “Fuck,” you muttered in a low tone, keeping your hands glued to your sides. Another motive not to think about Joel: he made you feel… things. Certain things that you hadn't felt for anyone in a very long time. You preferred to think that it was probably due to the fact that you were touch-starved, and not because you found yourself deeply attracted to him. Never had you ever been a sexually active person, so why now? Why did the mere image of Joel in your mind turn you on? 

He’s strong. I’m alone. I feel the need to find someone who’s willing to protect me. That’s it. No other reason.

Your internal monologue was lacking in arguments, but it was definitely something you could work with. As if on cue, you found it hard to keep your eyes open, your limbs not feeling as if they were yours anymore. Next thing you knew, you were asleep.

That night, you dreamt with Joel.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

In a small cabin, you taught children how to paint and draw. Maria believed it to be helpful for their psychological development or something like that, and you had agreed to do it. A good way to spend your free time– that’s what it was. Plus, you liked children; some would even choose to include you in their drawings, and that small gesture just warmed your heart.

There, you met Ellie, a teenager whose basic vocabulary consisted mostly of profanities. 

And boy, you loved Ellie.

It was hard not to, actually. She was like a breath of fresh air, with her jokes and instant charm. You two became attached in a short time, and she reminded you of a younger version of you, just a lot braver. Although in this world it brought her benefits, you sometimes wished she wouldn’t have gone through all that shit. Those eyes, which squinted as she laughed if you tickled her sides, were the cemetery of many buried memories. You wondered how she managed to put a smile on her face despite her past and the horrible things she had seen, hoping it was genuine and not a mask.

“Look!” her voice brought you back to reality. Blinking in her direction, you realized the amount of paint you had dropped onto the floor, a red stain already forming on the carpet. “Are you okay? You seem off.”

“I’m fine! Just a bit sleepy today, that's all,” you got closer to where she was lying down, her fingers moving the brush you had gifted her in different directions. Squatting a bit, you placed a strand of hair that didn’t make it into her ponytail behind her ear. “So, what are you painting?”

She smiled warmly, and her teeth catched her lower lip momentarily. “It’s not finished, okay? Don’t freak out. I know you’re a perfectionist.”

“I’m not…” you tried to explain yourself, but ended up choosing to be defeated. “Maybe you’re right. Anyway, may I see it?”

The canvas was in your hands a few moments later. Ellie spoke beside you, her words mixing together in a sign of embarrassment. “It’s for Joel. Figured I could do something nice for him, you know? I don’t– I think I need to start over. His eyes look kind of strange, don’t they? They’re so close he looks like a cyclops.”

“Don’t say that, kiddo. This is… it’s beautiful,” your index finger traced the lines framing his jaw, the shades of his skin perfectly achieved. You held the painting even tighter, afraid of breaking it for a second. He wasn’t frowning like he normally did; Ellie had painted him smiling, and the crinkles by his eyes matched his age. Surely you must have spent more time than necessary staring at it, ‘cause then Ellie continued talking.

“Well, you know what they say: The student has become the teacher.” 

You handed the canvas to her, a smirk taking place on your face. “Yeah, I guess I’ll stop teaching you if that’s the case.”

An hour or so later, someone knocked on the door. As both of your hands were occupied (a more formal way to say that they were dirty with paint), you screamed “Come in!”, and Ellie covered her painting with an old, muddy curtain you used to clean the tables in which the children worked. You were about to ask her why she had reacted in that way, until you turned around and saw him.

Joel was there, as every other Wednesday. In your cabin, standing right in front of you. And you didn’t even look presentable. His hair looked messy, a couple of locks stuck to his forehead with sweat. “Hi,” he said shortly, meeting your gaze and attempting to shake your hand, but you avoided contact.

Showing him your hands, you held your palms in the air as an indication of the still fresh paint on your skin. “Sorry. If I were to accept the gesture, I’d leave you a stain.”

He retrieved a bit, adjusting his glove. “It’s okay. Safety first.”

That was supposed to be a joke, you noticed tardily. The silence in the room persisted until Ellie appeared from behind your back, already putting her coat on.

“You were supposed to pick me up in half an hour, asshole.”

His mouth snapped shut for an instant. “I missed you too. How was the class?” 

Ellie lifted her shoulder in a half shrug, looking in your direction and proceeding to jerk her thumb toward Joel. She didn’t want him to see the painting. “Fine as usual.”

“Can I see what you’re–”

“No fucking way!” she accentuated the word fucking, drawing him closer to the door. 

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not done.”

“But–”

“No more questions, Joel. Let’s go! Say bye!” Ellie handled him like a baby, which made you giggle.

Though you saw Joel raising his eyebrows, so you stopped laughing. 

Soon, they left and the cabin returned to its familiar quietness. A sigh erupted from your chest, and you allowed yourself to fall on top of a chair.

At least you could say you had actually talked to Joel for once.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

It didn’t surprise you that you wanted to see him again.

Not in the “you-turn-me-on” way, but in the “you-seem-interesting-and-i-need-to-find-out-why” one.

He had something. Something so magnetic and indecipherable that kept pulling you towards him. Something that made you look for his presence in every crew, and not sensing what it was only made your wishes to dissect him grow bigger. There was a tiny probability that he was an idiot with a pretty face. Who knew? You definitely didn’t, and that needed to change. You deserved to know if pining over that man was worth it or not.

That chain of thoughts led you to look for him the next day, almost trembling with eagerness as you asked him the most stupid and unexpected question you could have imagined.

“Would you teach me how to ride a horse?”

He looked at you as if you were out of your mind, opening his mouth a few times and then closing it before he actually replied to you. “You’re tellin' me you don’t know how to ride a horse?”

“Tried it a few times, but failed and now I really want to learn to do it properly,” you swore his eyes were trying to decipher if you were saying the truth or not. “Ellie told me that you could probably make some time to teach me?”

“So Ellie's in charge of my schedule, I suppose?” you froze on the spot, and he must have noticed it because then his expression dulled. “Sorry, sweetheart. It was a joke. I've been told I'm not the best humorist.”

Sweetheart. You could’ve died a happy girl.

“Look, why don’t we meet up tomorrow after lunch? I'm sure it won’t take us much time. Not a difficult task, y’know?” he stroked his beard, apparently thinking you understood what he was talking about. 

“Sure. Thank you, Joel. My name’s–“

He didn’t let you finish. “I do know your name,” and before leaving, he repeated: “I’ll be here tomorrow. You know where to find me.”

To say that you slept without interruptions that night was an understatement. Each hour seemed to become longer the more you glimpsed your watch. Your heart drummed inside your chest violently, and you feared that someone else would be able to hear it if they got close enough to you. 

After having lunch in the same spot as every other mundane day, your legs took you to the stable. You took a shaky breath, expecting him to appear out of thin air, but fifteen minutes went by, and there was still no sign of Joel. Pressing your forehead against the wooden door, you wrapped your arms around yourself. “What was I even thinking?” 

“Hey.”

You looked to your side and– there he was, already getting inside the stable and inviting you to follow him. Joel petted one of the horses, clicking his tongue. His fingers caressed the animal’s back, and when he shot a glance at you, he didn’t ignore your disturbed expression.

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of horses.”

“I’m not afraid of them,” you laughed awkwardly, eyeing the horse, which stared at you with those big and strange eyes. You raised your hand to mimic Joel, but that just made the animal move further away from you. “I guess it’s mutual. We don’t like each other.”

Joel smirked, guiding you outside. “It’s a damn horse. I don’t think you can tell whether he likes you or not. You gotta change that attitude of yours,” he murmured as he got on top of the horse, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Treat him well and he’ll be nice.”

At first, Joel taught you the basics: how to position yourself for balance, get your legs in the right position, hold the reins properly. A little bit of help coming from him was needed for you to mount the horse. He got down on one knee, patting it as if it were a mounting block. “Come on. Step on it.”

No need to ask me twice, you thought as you did what you were told, and once you were grabbing on those reins for dear life, you observed him with curious eyes. “Now what?”

“Now…” he pressed his hand into one of the horse’s sides, and afterwards, the horse began to fucking trot and you cried out, a high-pitched shriek slipping from your mouth. Joel laughed maliciously, almost hypnotized by the scene. “Now is when you learn how to ride a horse!”

“This isn't funny!” you screamed, the horse still very much entertained with the way you were jerking on top of him. “Stop!”

You couldn't believe how he kept… cracking up. Joel touched his stomach, shaking with laughter. “You’re a natural, can’t you see it? I’m havin' the time of my life here.”

“What I can see is that you’re an idiot! Cut the cackle and help me!”

But he didn’t move a single muscle. Instead, he remained still, that smug look never abandoning his features.

The bastard. “You’re gonna make me beg? In this situation?”

Crossing his arms while teasingly grinning at you, he added: “Wouldn’t hurt to try.”

“Joel Miller, will you help me? Pretty please?” your hair was getting in the way, and you could taste it as you insisted. “Is that enough for you?”

It was, actually. He helped you get down from the horse, his thick fingers digging into the mushy skin of your waist. It shouldn’t have felt that good, but it did. You were supposed to be angry at him for setting you up and still, by touching you for a microsecond, he had transformed you into something malleable.

Sadly, that feeling didn’t last much longer. “Didn’t know you were a man of manners. Should’ve told me beforehand.”

“Didn't know you could scream like that. I hope you didn’t freak anyone out.”

The two of you continued to practice until nightfall. A thing you also learned, apart from horse riding, was that Joel was a determined man. Everytime you tried to quit, he stopped you, making it impossible for you to rest. You stared at him, rubbing the back of your sore neck with a grimace. “I’m tired. Can we go back?”

“One more time.”

“Joel–”

“Trot a couple of meters just one more time, and that’s it for today. Can you do that for me?”

You tried not to pay too much attention to his choice of words, although it was basically non-viable. He looked sinful, and you longed to shut him up with a bruising kiss. Again, a hopeless option. Your hands itched to touch him, to feel his stubble, rough and coarse under your thumbs. How could you stay focused when the man you had been daydreaming with for the last couple of months was bossing you around? 

Despite your inability to clear your head of any of those thoughts, you managed to accomplish what he had asked you to do. “Well done,” he offered you his hand to dismount the horse and you accepted it, sighing as you stretched out your arms. “We should take him back to the stable,” Joel suggested, giving you the impression of being pleased as you told him you were coming with him.

Inside the stable, he relocated the horse into one of the many stalls. Unbelievably, the place didn’t smell like absolute shit, which was what you were expecting from a barn. “Thank you for the lesson,” you told Joel once he was done with the horse.

“Anytime,” he scratched his jaw, the dim light making his dark eyes look, if possible, even darker. “It wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“No. You were right,” your heart thrummed with every word that he blurted. His presence was addictive. You were never the one to have any bad habits, but deep down, you recognized that he easily could develop one. “I thought you were less talkative.”

“So did I,” for an instant, he pressed his lips together, forming a tight line, as if he had said something he shouldn’t have in the first place. “I think I didn’t ask you this before: but why now? I mean, why did you wait so much time to learn how to ride a horse? Everyone in Jackson seems to know how.”

You cleared your throat, his piercing eyes peering at your movements. “I guess I thought it wasn't necessary back then, before all this. It's one of those things that you don't even consider until it becomes inevitable. I used to believe I had a lot of time left when I was younger,” you had never talked about this with anyone else. There was something so intimate about this conversation, how Joel stood seemingly tongue-tied in front of you, as if he were taking notes of what you were confessing to him. “I remember being a kid and not wanting to use my toys sometimes because I kept waiting for the right moment. But then…”

“You realize there’s no such thing as the right moment,” he finished the sentence for you, and you bowed your head. “Life can end at any moment, especially in a world like ours. That’s why you always gotta do what you wish to. We never know what’ll happen tomorrow.”

“Live for today, hope for tomorrow? That’s your creed?” you tried to mock him, the tension in the stable far from evident, but he didn’t move.

“It’s the way I try to live my own life. I don’t like being left with the desire to do somethin’ I could’ve done earlier. Too old for that.”

Maybe you were gradually losing it. Perhaps just a little. It couldn’t be a coincidence, right? Had he noticed how you acted around him? Were you that obvious?

“So, you would advise me to just…”

“Do whatever you feel right, sweetheart.”

That raspy sweetheart made you give in.

His eyes. His penetrating, gleaming eyes scrutinized your face at the same time you closed the distance between your bodies. From there, you were able to see every freckle, every small detail that you hadn’t previously acknowledged. He parted his lips, as if to speak, but no words other than your name came out. One of your hands made its way up to his cheek, cupping it, feeling the warmth his skin radiated. His head immediately leaned into your touch, like a moth into a flame. 

You kissed him, unable to keep waiting. It took him what felt like ages to kiss you back, his fingers tangling in your hair. He absorbed your whimpers, pressing your back against the nearest wall. Maddening– it was the perfect word to describe how being kissed by Joel felt like. When you thought he was going to draw away from you, he just held you tighter until your lungs implored for some air. Your knees had never felt this weak, and you found yourself grabbing onto his shoulders, already feeling the places where his stubble had left its trace in flames. 

“Joel…” you mumbled against his lips, detaching your mouth from his. Your erratic breaths seemed to sync together like a melody, and you tugged at the collar of his jacket. 

He knew, could see it on your features. “Wanna go to yours?”

Joel took you home. The moment you set foot in the cabin, he closed the door behind him, his hand lingering on the handle as he contemplated you from a distance. You took your coat off first, starting to unzip your pants. There was silence long enough to hear crickets in, the moon up in the sky being the only bystander of your meeting. His eyes roamed the newly exposed skin of your legs and you observed him gulp. 

“Did something happen?” you asked him, a flush crepting up your face. Taking a step forward, one of his hands came to rest on top of yours.

“No, it’s just that– Are you sure you want this?”

Crinkling your nose, you uttered: “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I’m just too old for you,” he warned you, running a knuckle down your cheek. “You should be with guys your age, y’know? Not with an old man like me.”

“I want you,” reassuring him, you got rid of your t-shirt, and the fact he was still dressed up from neck to toes lit some kind of fire inside you. His calloused fingers fiddled with the strap of your bra until it slipped off your shoulder. “This is what I want. Please, Joel.”

It turned out that Joel Miller certainly was a man of manners.

You couldn't help but moan as he grabbed you by the waist, dragging you to the couch by the window and straddling his lap, his hard-on finding its place beneath you, pulsing and in need of more. His tongue brushed yours ever so often, and your eyes rolled to the back of your head as his teeth latched onto the skin of your throat. Joel groaned, the sound, low and primal, having its desired effect on you, your hips involuntarily grinding against his in a delicious but tormenting rhythm that already had you on the verge of tears.

“Joel, please,” you managed to plead, not knowing precisely what you were asking for. His hands cupped your ass, imprinting his fingerprints on the soft flesh, forcing your hips to go harder and harder. The harsh fabric of his pants was definitely going to leave a mark on your cheeks, and thinking that helped you realize that you were the only one –almost– naked. You reached for the buttons of his denim shirt, your lips hovering over his. “Take your clothes off?”

He did the rest himself, throwing his jacket to the floor. When he got to his jeans, he cocked his head. “Why don’t we move this to the bedroom, if you’re so goddamn needy?” The few guys you had been with had never been very talkative during sex; there was even this one specific boy who had asked you to not make a sound while he fucked you. 

But Joel wasn’t like them. It was just starting and you had already realized that he had a dirty mouth, an expectant look on his face every time he waited for your reaction to his words. “Now you’re quiet, huh? Thought you wanted me to fuck you, darlin',” one of his fingers pressed down on your clit, stimulating it through your underwear. He sighed, stopping his movements and pressing the damp pad of it against your lower lip, urging you to taste yourself. “You’re wet, baby. So fuckin’ wet. Have you been like this all day? Bet you would’ve let me take you right there in the forest.”

“Oh my God,” you whined next to his ear, your whole body trembling with desire. “Take me to bed,” you begged him, and next thing you knew, he was grabbing you as if you weighed nothing and heading towards your room. 

Not knowing how, you kept your hands to yourself until he placed you on top of the bed. Joel shoved his jeans down and you didn’t think twice– you stroked his length, the fabric of his boxers only making the slow drag of your hand more satisfying. His long fingers circled your throat, and you moaned as you kept eliciting exquisite noises from him. “Let me take care of you,” his dilated pupils carved holes in your being, his grip doing nothing to cease the ache between your legs. “Please, baby. I need to make you feel good. Been thinkin’ about this for so long.”

“What?” you slowed down your pace, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “You wanted me?”

“Why do you think I began to pick Ellie up from your classes, huh? Because I’m a good, generous man?” Joel parted your knees, getting closer to where you required him the most. “I’m sorry to ruin this, but I’m far from good. Just wanted to see you and your pretty face. Didn’t know if we were on the same page until you came lookin' for me, askin' me to teach you how to ride a damn horse,” you hadn’t noticed your bra was missing till he cupped one of your breasts, flicking your nipple between his fingers. “I’m sure there were many other people you could’ve asked to teach you, but you chose me, didn’t you?”

“Don’t want anybody else,” your lips chased his, a drop of sweat already rolling down your temple. “I didn’t– didn’t know you noticed me.”

“How could I not? If you could only look at yourself like I’m doing right now… You’re a sight, sweetheart, all spread out for me,” removing your panties, he kissed the skin where your inner thighs met, his tongue darting out to draw imaginary figures on your flesh. His mouth was just inches away from your cunt, and you had to tell him.

“Joel?”

“What’s wrong?”

“I’ve never– nobody has ever done that for me.”

He seemed to understand what you were referring to. It made you tense a bit, despite the fact that you were completely naked in front of him, basically begging him to tear you apart. Still, the realization that you weren't as expert as him hit you out of nowhere. Yeah, it was all fun and games, kissing and touching probably the hottest man you had seen in your almost three decades of life. But said man was a lot older than you, and he had lived his best years in the real world, not this fucked up version you grew up in. You were sure he had been with many different women, which wasn’t a problem– you two were nothing.

“Nobody has ever tasted ya’? That’s what you’re tryin’ to tell me?” you nodded quickly, shoving a strand of his graying hair back away from his eyes. Joel chuckled languidly, squeezing your hips. “Do you want me to? It’s okay if you don’t. We can try somethin’ else.”

“Please,” you’d have time to embarrass yourself later, thinking about the amount of times you had repeated that word. But certain moments were to be lived only once, and though you hoped it wasn't the case, you had to take the chance. “I want you to.”

Four words. It took Joel four words to disappear between your legs, licking a hot stripe up your folds. You nibbled on your bottom lip, a loud moan filling the void of your dorm. He drew sweet patterns in your cunt, discovering a part of you that no one else ever had, and you couldn’t help but to grind against his face as he dipped the tip of his tongue into your entrance. Breathing wasn’t a necessity anymore. You felt as if all the air in the world was being punched out of your lungs, the knot in your belly growing tighter the more Joel spent his precious time keeping you entertained.

At some point, he focused his attention on your clit, circling it over and over again, making you shudder. Suddenly, the pad of his middle finger tested the waters, and he slowly slid it into your cunt, earning a strangled whine from you. Burying your hands in his hair, your glossy eyes looked for him for a second. You shouldn’t have done that, because as you took in the sight of Joel with his own eyes closed, browns knitted, your nostrils flared, and you wondered if it was even possible to want somebody that much.

“Joel, wait, I’m– fuck,” your jaw went slack and you scrunched up your face, two of his thick fingers nudging that spot that made you see stars. “I’m close.” 

“That’s a good thing, sweetheart. Don’t know why you say it in such a dry tone,” his mouth curved into a smile, his chin and stubble shining with your slick. 

Your chest rose and fell with rapid breaths. “I don’t want to come yet.”

“But you will.”

A thing you also learned, apart from horse riding, was that Joel was a determined man.

“Joel–“

“I’ll make you come with my mouth, and then with my cock,” dizziness was starting to blur your vision, your eyelashes fluttering with every hard thrust of his fingers. You glanced up to the ceiling, tears filling your eyes. “Think you can do that for me, be my good girl and come twice?”

You bobbed your head. It was official: he was going to make you come.

Drawing in a long breath, you could feel the unbearable pressure in your core. His name sounded like a prayer on your lips, chanting it in the same way some people expressed their devotion to a certain God. You had your own personal deity, whose tongue accomplished to push you to the limit, licking every drop of your release as if it were a special kind of forbidden elixir.  

Your shoulders sagged and you relaxed under him. Joel kissed you, an open mouthed and filthy kiss crowning that moment as you panted. Through the cotton fabric of his boxers, you felt his hard-on poking your thigh. Shoving his underwear down, you took him in your hand, hot and just big, stroking him for real this time. You twisted your wrist at the tip, and he slumped forward, almost crushing you with his entire body weight, his breath dampening your neck. “Wanna fuck you, baby,” he croaked, his hips chasing your touch.

Out of all the scenarios you had ever imagined, none of them included being split open by Joel. You had a very vivid imagination, but no amount of creativity would’ve prepared you for what his cock would feel like inside of you. He bottomed out, his arms shaking where they rested on each side of your head. Joel’s breath quickened as he pulled out, just letting the tip, and then thrusting into you again.

“Fuck,” you didn’t recognize your own voice. It was even hard to decipher if you were still alive or dead from how magnificent he felt.

“So good, sweetheart. You’re so good, such a good girl,” he groaned, fucking deeper into you. His cock pulsed inside you, your cunt squeezing him. “Can’t believe how– how tight you are. You’re gonna make me lose my f–fucking mind.”

It was just too much. You hadn’t even recovered from your last orgasm before Joel started pounding into you like his life depended on it, the obscene sound of skin slapping skin ringing out in the room. 

“You gonna come, huh? Gonna make a mess?” you could sense he was also close, his pace faltering as seconds went by, words slurring together. He pressed his forehead against yours, clenching his fists and taking in a sharp breath. “Fuck. I’m not gonna last much longer, baby.”

Come inside, you wished to tell him, to feel his seed dripping out of your greedy hole, painting your walls. But you weren't on the pill; it was also the first time you were sleeping with Joel, and you didn’t know how he would take the… suggestion. “Close,” you yelped instead, tears shimmering in your eyes as Joel’s body hovered over you like the most perfect eclipse. 

His thrusts became more frenzied, if possible. “That’s it, darlin’. Come for me,” your gaze fixated upon him, his eyes flickering with hunger. “Wanna see you when you soak my cock.”

Your body went limp, your orgasm hitting you like a truck. Soreness took place in your throat as you moaned his name through the aftershocks, fireworks exploding behind your eyelids. Going rigid, you let go of Joel’s shoulders. He pulled out, mumbling something you didn’t quite catch. You fisted his cock, trying to give him the release he so yearned for. Joel kissed you, messy teeth and saliva taking part of it. Heavy on your hand, his dick twitched as you squeezed the base, roped of his warm cum splattering your belly. The scene reminded you of a painting; he was the talented painter, and you his blank canvas, waiting to be signed with his name.

It was the turn of silence now. None of you said anything for a while, until Joel used his boxers to clean up his cum from your stomach, smiling apologetically at you. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” your fingers delicately traced the contours of his chest as he reclined, enveloping you in the embrace of his strong arms. “Will you stay?”

Please say yes.

“Only if you want me to.”

Moral of the story: learning how to ride a horse can actually be nice if your teacher happens to be Joel Miller.