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soscarlett1twas · 20 hours ago

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Sakuverse Characters x My Fantasy World

For roughly seven years now, I’ve been developing a fantasy world: I’ve vaguely posted about it before. But, for a while, I’ve been thinking about what the Sakuverse characters would be like within my curious little world, and it’s an AU I’ve come to adore. So I wanted to share it with you all.

But this is still the internet, and y’all are still strangers. So to protect the details, I've decided to alter the names of countries, people, places, etc, as well as remove certain specifics. I retain that this is not a post for inspiration or something to draw from. Worldbuilding is an art done by consenting minds, and my efforts are not yours. Besides, there is nothing more beautiful than your own work coming to fruition.

With that being said, I hope you enjoy this glimpse into my paracosm. <3

Quick Notes On Worldbuilding:

Geography

I’m currently reworking my actual map and ngl, maps are one of the easiest things for people to steal and pass off as their own, so take this very rough illustration of what my world looks like (I swear it gets better from here). And yes, I will be referring to the continents via their silly names on this map. I think it’s funny.

Magic

Magic is not an infinite resource in my world. There are five “spheres” of magic, each pertaining roughly to a continent (the northern and southern wastelands share one). I only explore 4/5 here. Each sphere has a basin for the magic to be drawn from, and each basin takes on a different form, corresponding to the type of magic:

Kachow’s magic is basically energy manipulation – particularly lightning – so its basin is a heavy cloud which hangs over the continent. Seaworld’s is the ocean which surrounds it. Terra’s is a forest, and the two Wasteland’s are basically an aurora borealis/australis. Despite how vast they are, these basins are drained by corresponding magic usage, and by the time written records really start popping up they no longer stretch across their entire continent. (Seaworld’s ocean has a lower water level the more it’s drained.)

Inhabitants

There are four sentient species. Lets call them Humans (though they're really not), Elves, Avians, and Chiropterans. Their main difference, besides physiology, is how they interact with magic:

Humans control, altering the elements as they exist before them. They look like regular humans.

Elves channel, they themselves conduits for magic. They look like humans as well, but with long, pointed ears and horns.

Avians create. They're the only ones with the ability to replenish the basins. They look like bird people.

Chiropterans … well, no one’s exactly sure, except themselves. They look like bat people.

Side note: a certain species doesn’t live only on a specific continent. Humans live practically everywhere, elves do as well but in much smaller numbers in the two Wasteland’s, and Avians populate the Wasteland’s and Seaworld. Chiropterans are esoteric and live away from the others, so there’s not really a complete census there. I’ve included examples of all four.

Sakuverse Time

(Be aware that for some of these I really go into the lore, while for others, it’s completely based on vibe. Depends on how much I know about the character. Also I do ignore the listeners for the most part. Earis is the most egregious example of just straight-up erasing them, but for the rest assumptions can be made. With all that said, please enjoy. <3)

Elias Kachow Human [1209 R]

As innovation flourished across the rest of the world, Kachow somewhat got left behind. With the heavy cloud that hung over them and most citizens being land-locked, they only knew stories of the world beyond: tales from travellers and researchers but nothing to really ground them in that reality.

Exception being the farthest-western province (which we’ll just call the West for now, it’ll come up again later). The cloud’s center doesn’t belong in the dead-middle of the continent, but is slightly tilted to the east. As it dissipates overtime from magic use, the West is the first to experience life truly without the cloud looming overhead constantly. Moreover, the effects are yet to be disastrous as the West is a coastal region and the basin is still strong enough to be pulled upon from farther distances.

But what this opens up is innovation. Specifically, maritime technology. Prior to this Kachow really wasn’t involved, only touched by world powers but not desired. But with these interactions, predominantly from Seaworldian explorers who had pretty advanced ships, the West became acquainted with a ton of new technology, like compasses. But perhaps most important were the astrolabes as, without the cloud blocking most of the view, they could start using the sky as a reference.

All this to say, ships became a booming industry – and in tandem, so did piracy. The Wraiths would be a gang of pirates. I imagine similarly to their canon creation, it would be to safeguard people from really harmful pirates (the Vex, Skoligs, etc.) working almost like privateers, but would eventually spiral into piracy themselves. (Pirate Queen Tara? Pirate Queen Tara.)

Elias would, of course, be heir to this empire, with Warden and James basically slotting into the pirate-equivalent roles that they have now. Warden being the face of it all, James the right hand.

But a crucial difference here would be Elias’ interest in astronomy. While in canon it’s shunted by Warden, he’d be allowed to further his interest here. It would prove to be invaluable information due to the dependance on astrolabes, and it’d make him a very adept pirate. While I’m not sure it would fully skew his current stance on the matter, I imagine he’d be much more open to the idea of becoming the next Wraith leader in this world. It’d mesh a lot more with his actual passion.

Not really related to the rest of this, but he’d also be an irresponsible magic user as a teenager. Rebellious spirit and all that. As he tested his magical limits, he would try to emulate elvish technique (channeling magic) and end up really hurt. He’s a human, he wouldn’t be able to withstand it. But he’d end up with these kickass scars that sprawl across his arm and back, shaped like lightning and, occasionally, pulse.

(I have a drawing of the scars but not saved to my phone. Currently travelling for Thanksgiving so I’ll add it when I get home lmao.)

Zaros Kymen Atha’lin Kachow Elf [1949 R]

There is no equivalent for the Trials at this time, in this monarchy. There are equivalents for the noble houses, however: I imagine Zaros would belong to the West (from Elias’ section), which at this point has been long sucked into an empire, son of Nira who would be the region’s vicereine.

Now, I say specifically the West because of their long history of being independent from Eneldus. Of the four classifications which determine if a region is under Eneldus’ jurisdiction, the West is the only one (at this time) which is actively disputed, because it’s always been disputed. Remember all the ships and piracy? Yeah, that whole industry got destroyed when the empire signed a pact with a Seaworldian country (the main victim of it), but that doesn't mean that spirit died with it.

Multiple independence movements have started. All have failed. It wasn’t until a few decades prior that the area got the representation in government of a typical region of the empire, with the Atha’lin family promoted to be its head.

Now, radicals wouldn’t be chosen to be the viceroy of any sect, and certainly not the famously belligerent one. And, despite the sympathies they may have, the Atha’lins wouldn’t be. Nira’s work would instead take a similar tint to canon, where she is an advocate for those the empire neglects. She’d work for her region's benefit and pull absolutely no punches. This would not make her popular with the other viceroyalty. She would not care.

Now, Zaros would be shipped away to the empire’s capital (basically as far east as you can go without touching the shore) for schooling, similar to Astorian (?). But he’d finish all of his education there and likely remain, working inside the palace as a Western delegate to advocate for the region. He’d be prepping to one day take over his mother’s duty as governor of his region, but those days are far ahead of him. There’d be no vying for the throne.

A few decades down the line, once he has supplanted his mother and works back in the West, the empire actually shatters due to the empress committing suicide in the height of international turmoil. Ironically, this grants the West everything it wants – and Zaros would likely become the blossoming country’s new leader. But with this cost comes the total dissipation of the Kachow cloud, the continent’s magical basin.

I admit, it’s all a little divorced from his canon. But honestly it’s one of my favorite time periods of my world and it gives Zaros the similar backstory and possible future.

+ I did a doodle of him as an elf! Kachow elves have horns that curl completely around the ears when they mature. I gave him sharper ears because it’s considered more conventionally attractive (in the past, some would break their ear bones upwards in a process similar to Chinese footbinding to achieve the look) and hair that was slightly curlier. The heat wouldn’t keep his pin-straight hair in place for long.

Jonah Terra Elf [~2010 R]

With Kachow’s basin officially disappearing, it was a huge wake-up call for a lot of people. The other continents began to expedite their restoration efforts to avoid the same fate. Terra especially was getting really involved, as unlike Seaworld or the Wasteland’s, the continent isn’t a native home of avians – again, the only ones who can restore the basins – so they thought they were next on the chopping block.

But these pushes often advocated for a lack of magic usage, an unfair policy for literally everyone. Many fought against this. After all, it wasn’t until magic was predominantly in the hands of corporations and government that it became unsustainable. So a counter-culture emerged to these policies, which instead advocated for a return to a traditional, grassroots way of living. (Not traditional as in conservative, traditional more as in lacking modern innovation that stressed the Terra basin.)

Jonah just… fits into this time period. I confess, I don’t know him particularly well as a character, but I feel more than anytime else, he’d be a product of this movement. Aesthetically, his hair wouldn’t be a thing to gawk at as it would, say, a century earlier. Hair dyes became a symbol of these communities, as Terrans could very easily make them with their magical abilities in very sustainable ways, as growing just enough flowers to grind into dye would barely tax the forest at all.

I’m at a tiny loss for the streamer attribute to him, but there’s something to the fact he’s fostered a community through his gaming. That kind of connection with a larger group of people is exactly what fueled a lot of this movement. He’d thrive here, I think.

Isaac Rhoades North Wastelander Elf [~1930 R]

Elves really only start populating the Wasteland’s once they have to, conflict or magical exhaust or some other reason that pushes them away from their homeland. But they are lonely places, and despite the auroras which illuminate the sky, they are in the dark for months on end. It’s much like Alaska – especially for non-native inhabitants such as elves, not many have the heart to stay.

Luckily, dear Isaac is attuned to loneliness. While he’d be far from thriving, he’d be content with his work in the Northern Wasteland. He’d live in one of the southern-most mountain ranges, where most non-avian Wasterlanders do, and with his wealth afford a home much closer to the ground. The weather is less severe down there.

Elvish Wastelanders have different funeral rites from most (many prefer sky burials) and bury their dead in the ground or sink them into the frozen sea. Isaac would opt for the ground for his parents and Grandfather, but he’d have no garden; very little grows this far north. Instead he’d have glass-blown flowers his mother cherished, a common decoration around the holidays. She had them out all year.

His work in this world wouldn’t be too far off from what he does on earth. I chose this time period because of the gang culture which was subtlety running rampant throughout the area, and would be his focus. There is no Asirel to direct him (we’ll get to him in a moment) and no Collective. Instead, Isaac would be employed by aristocrats who sought to undermine crime barons.

The Rhoades would be quasi-nobility. Their work would bring them into the tight-knit upper circles of Wastelander government, and while they’d live luxuriously, the targets on their backs would be huge. It doesn’t help that many syndicates around this time are fueled by Kachow money, so they’d be caught in the midst of politics much larger than themselves. (At its apex, a specific syndicate was literally at war with the Northern Wasteland’s government. I would elaborate, but it’s the plot of a novel I haven’t fully sorted through yet, so I don’t think I can haha.)

Luca Pearce South Wastelander Human [~1500s R]

Unlike Isaac, Luca is not such an expert in loneliness. But he’d also live in the Wastelands, though he’d be a southern.

The Southern Wasteland was the last continent to be “discovered” and form strong connections to the rest of the world. But they made do with what was available. Avians and non-avians formed tighter connections here earlier due to necessity and have a very healthy, symbiotic relationship. Pertinent here, avians became messengers between human settlements when they couldn’t brave the journeys themselves.

But during the summer seasons, when the snow and bleary weather aren’t a fatal hazard, humans are able to make these journeys themselves – though they can’t do it alone. Dog sledding became the primary means of travel for these workers. With Luca’s fondness for animals and general isolation (prior to being with Babe), he slots in pretty nicely.

It is grueling and lonesome work, and given Luca’s anxiety, it seems unlikely he’d be good for the job. But he doesn’t have to interact with anyone – just reach supply and drop off points – and move onto his next assignment. His distance from people due to bullying may be what pushes him to the career in the first place, and he’d attach heavily to his pack of sleigh dogs.

The ideal breed for sleigh dogs have portions of their fur that’s illuminated from their proximity to the basin. They’re not the fastest, but it keeps messengers able to see and move, even if it’s dark out during the entire day. Later, when the Southern Wasteland begins trading more with foreign countries, crystals imported from the Seaworldian/Terran border are imbued with magic and line the sleds, lighting the way and allowing them to use faster dogs.

Most messengers form life-long bonds with their packs, and Luca especially – his would probably be a culmination of those given to him as part of the job and rescues. Still, the work does things to a person. Many human messengers eventually commit suicide.

Asirel Cain North Wastelander Avian [~500 Pre-R]

Wasteland avians weren’t particularly integrated with humans or elves until much later, so a lot of their early history is completely unknown. Select communities may have had a strong enough oral tradition to capture the gist of really early history, but those have been mostly turned to folk stories. And for early avian cultures which have died out, it means people don’t know of their existence at all.

One of the rare exceptions is the Chough culture (again, a placeholder name). Having nested at the highest known altitude of any avian, these people lived in some of the most dangerous mountain ranges in the world. Even until the latest point of time in this post, their homes were so dangerous that any non-avian could barely start scaling the mountains, and modern avians have lost their resistance to these conditions, similarly making them unable to find out.

Quite frankly, they’re a hypothesis more than fact. But little relics have fallen from these mountains and made their ways to the hands of archaeologists – carvings in a style distinct from the other surrounding cultures, lithic flakes, etc. Most damning are their statues of figures, certainly avians but not familiar ones. They look like alpine choughs.

While not a secret society which runs the world, Asirel as one of these avians was actually one of the first ideas I had for this AU. He retains the esoteric aspect to his character and is still the “top of the food chain,” so to speak. Avians don’t hunt other avians, but certain local cultures have aspects of their mythos which can be traced back to the Choughs (the oral history being skewed over time) which make them seem as an imposing, strong people who others generally avoided.

Evidence of Asirel would be scarce. But with his ambition, it’s likely he’d be carved into their figurines to honor an important member of the community. The high winds would force it off the range, and an archaeologist would find it in the snow. His visage remains in a museum, himself a figurehead for what the world cannot know.

Andrew Marston Chiropteran [~1800s R]

You may notice the lack of magical distinction for Andrew. He’s also the only chiropteran. They’re wanderers, who migrated to the continents via a dense web of cave systems which, by this point, have yet to be retraced. Eventually, their homeland was found – but that’s a story for a different day.

Originally I made Andrew a Wasteland elf. But chiropteran is more interesting because of their concepts of family and religion. Namely, because the former barely exists while the latter does in abundance.

Chiropterans live in communities called colonies, where they roost in large numbers. There is no family which binds a person by blood, you are instead connected to every person in the colony via a regimented structure of elders and children. Even biological siblings barely acknowledge it. The difference for twins is that, if you look identical to another person, it’s harder to ignore.

Religion works as the glue for these communities. If you don’t have the instinctual knowledge that your very body connects you to your colony, it’s the belief of a common force working above the rest of you that does. Thousands of chiropteran faiths exist, down to differences so subtle that only those initiated can see them. Every colony, from the ones with millions of people to tens, follows a different faith.

Now. Everything above describes a very traditional way of living, but that would be the way Andrew lived for his first few decades. With his parents as a constant influence, he’d remain in the colony and grow up similarly – gifted child with a bent for history and literature – with the exception of his brother. Andrew and Simon would grow up with a rare sibling bond in these colonies, known only between the two of them. Their parents would do everything to separate the two, but I think that would incite them to be closer.

But, when the time comes, Simon wouldn’t run away. Faith isn’t a method of repressing him and Andrew (quick note but homophobia also literally does not exist in this world) but instead is as foundational as the concept of friendship is to us. It is the invisible bonds which tie you to the people you love. Both would hold onto that, and interpret their expression of family as a unique form of this bond, given to them by the faith they follow. That doesn’t mean they’d be incredibly pious. They just mean they wouldn’t fully reject it.

With chiropterans long lifespans (longer than any other sentient species on average), both would eventually leave the colony. Andrew would focus himself into his studies and become a leading expert in his fields. After all, when he's older, he’ll have lived long enough to see the rise and fall of what humans and elves are formalizing into subjects. He’d find partners and explore the world. I can see him getting married twice, as so many do.

Here’s some reference as to what chiropterans look like. The first image was drawn by the wonderful @spooky_gecko on TikTok.

Xanthus & Cevyk

With them being mythics, I thought it more appropriate to make these two folkloric/mythological beings that don’t actually exist beyond stories, just as vampires and demons are to us.

Xanthus: Akin to vampires are demons who are thought to drain the “life essence" from a person. Aka, they can take away your ability to use magic, effectively collecting the different forms. These demons, depending on what they’ve extracted, can use multiple types of magic – making them incredibly dangerous. They don’t feed, as vamps do. Instead they’re often portrayed with limbs made of jewels, the kind I mentioned earlier which can hold magic, and inflict deep wounds into flesh in order to harness a person’s given power.

These stories originate from the fifth magical sphere I mentioned in the worldbuilding notes, and upon making contact, people turned its users into legends. They don’t wield all abilities – but it’s mysterious knowledge that, with misunderstanding, gets misconstrued. Nobody particularly believes in them, and become pop culture symbols co-opted from historical fears.

Cevyk: He’d be a butterfly. It sounds insane, but they’re common psychopomp figures and symbols of the afterlife, and vengeful ones at that. He’d be a little butterfly that’s an omen of death.

(As for Dontis, horniness is an affliction which transcends the bonds of earth. Succubi exist here basically in the same form as they in canon.)

Thank you for listening to me ramble :) Feel free to ask any questions. I’m going to slither back into my cave now.

#zsakuva #sakuverse #scarlett’s ramblings #a bomb is attached to this post #if any of yall plagiarize it goes off #zsakuva elias #zsakuva zaros #zsakuva luca #zsakuva isaac #zsakuva asirel #zsakuva matias #zsakuva niall #zsakuva jonah #zsakuva kayson #zsakuva andrew

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cakeywakeyfakey · 11 months ago

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Drew this in a tiny book and GOD it was painful.

(The quality’s bad so you gotta click it if you want a better one)

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butiknowiloatheyou · 1 year ago

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#little depressing vent moment over here don’t mind me #i am genuinely such a good and kind person i don’t understand why people don’t like me #i have had 2 friends for the last 5 years #and not even the same 2 just 2 total #and we never talk #i go months without seeing anyone but my family or the people i encounter at my job #i’m not even trying to be annoying or anything it’s just so hard to be this lonely for this long #(i’m not very close with my 2 family members. the time we spend with each other on a daily basis is probably less than an hour)#(especially with my brother)#sure i have internet friends but we practically don’t talk at all anymore #i mean they’re busy and there’s times differences and it’s just part of having online friends #so nothing against them it’s just #it’s not enough after a while :/#and i’m an introvert #i get drained by people SO FAST #but life with no one isn’t fun for me :(#rin rants

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nereidprinc3ss · 9 months ago

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do you believe me now?

in which fem!reader is insecure around spencer until she finally asks him to take matters into his own hands (literally)

series masterlist

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: inexperienced reader, fingering, softdom!spencer my sweet sweet beloved angel, sub reader, praise, you know he talks you through it, brief mention of drinking wine, i think that's it a/n: i hope u guys like this ! slightly different dynamic than my other stuff maybe but let me know what u think!! i love feedback and i love YOU!!!

“You’re so pretty.”

It’s the first thing Spencer has said since you two landed on his couch, exhausted from one of Rossi’s extravagant soirées. It was your first of many, if Spencer’s entire team is to be believed. More nights featuring Italian food and wine you could never afford don’t sound half bad—but for now you’re drained. You barely had the energy to kick off your heels and topple into Spencer’s lap five minutes ago. The silk dress still pools over his knees and your hair still falls in curls around your face. He brushes one aside as he continues.

“I mean—you always look beautiful. But I’ve never seen you all done up. You’re obscenely gorgeous.”

You groan awkwardly, burying your face in Spencer’s collar as your face heats. Taking compliments has never been your strong suit, especially from someone who you perceive to be so out of your league. The relationship you have with Spencer is relatively new, and sometimes you worry delicate; like one slip-up revealing the real you and he’ll go running. So far, though, he seems hellbent on proving you wrong.

His hand finds the bare skin of your arm, passing up and down gently. “Why don’t you believe me?”

“…I do.”

It’s unconvincing. Spencer scoffs.

“No, you don’t. You never believe me when I compliment you.”

The cadence of his voice is light enough, but it’s evident that there’s some genuine frustration there, lurking just under the surface.

Your head lolls over his shoulder and he angles his neck to look down at you. Hair falls over his eyes, and you’d fix it if he didn’t look so damn perfect. Everything about him looks intentional, like he was designed by someone who took great pride in their work. Not at all like you—a collage of features and spare parts you guess whatever force created you had lying around. Nothing about you feels on purpose. But that’s a hard thing to explain.

“I’m sorry. I know it’s impolite. It just feels disingenuous to accept compliments like that.”

Goosebumps arise on your arm where he touches you.

“You being polite isn’t what I’m concerned about. I just wish I could make you understand that I mean it when I compliment you. You’d know if I didn’t. I’m a terrible liar.”

That earns a giggle from you. Your boyfriend smiles, sparkling eyes darting over your face like he’s trying to bottle the sound, the memory—and you realize he probably is. What a terrifying thought. You look away, abashed once more.

“I’m a woman, Spencer. I’m not allowed to like myself. That’s the whole thing with Eve and the snake and the apple and whatever. Eternal inescapable shame.”

“Are you trying to justify your self-loathing by making it biblical? You know I’m the last person that would work on, right? Both as an agnostic-leaning-athiest and someone who thinks you’re beautiful and wonderful.”

Another groan claws its way from your throat as you slide down in embarrassment.

“You’re killing me here, Spencer.”

“What can I do to do to make you believe me?” he murmurs, carefully brushing tangles from your hair as you now rest practically prone across his lap. The ceiling light stretches behind him, haloing him in a soft glowing crown and making everything a bit more hazy and tolerable.

“It’s not your fight.” It’s meant to be playfully dramatic, but it hangs from your lips with a painful amount of earnestness.

“If it’s yours, it’s mine. That’s kind of the whole point of a relationship, right? Being a team?”

His fingers are nimble and warm between yours as you interlace them, steepling and bumping them together as you speak.

“Well, if you know so much, why are you asking me? It sounds like you know exactly what to do to make me magically love myself.”

A dangerous twitch plays at the corner of his lips as he gazes sleepily down at you.

“Oh, I have a few ideas. But I’m asking what you’d be comfortable with.”

“Whoa!” you blurt, giggling self-consciously, covering your face with your (and inadvertently one of his) hands. “Where did that come from?”

He smiles at your response to his mildly suggestive comment. “I lose my filter when I'm tired. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

You sigh gustily, dragging his hand down to fall over your collarbones. His fingers twitch over the delicate skin, like he’d graze it if your hand wasn’t weighing his down.

“No, no, you didn’t make me uncomfortable, you just… surprised me. I’m really bad at talking about this kind of thing.”

“Sex?”

You yelp, slinging your arm over your face and hiding in the crook of your elbow. “AH! Don’t say it!”

He laughs again, a little less reserved this time.

“What? You can’t even listen to me say the word?”

“No! Too scary!”

Eventually you peek out from under your arm to find Spencer still watching you. The humor has faded from his eyes and been replaced by a kind of serene calm. He brushes a lock of hair from your shoulder.

“Come here,” he says—a request more than a demand. With some wriggling and a bit of help, you manage to reorient yourself into a sitting position across his lap once more. His touch is warm even through the fabric of your dress when he kisses you, hand sliding over your waist before moving to trace your jaw and ending up on the back of your neck, urging you closer ever so slightly. You kiss him back without hesitation or restraint, as you delight in doing when he gives you the opportunity. What you may lack in experience and refinement, you make up for with affection and enthusiasm. He pulls away after a minute, much to your dismay, and brushes his thumb over your lips. For the first time, you think you see a hint of worry in his eyes. Guilt claws at your heart when he quietly asks, “you’re not scared of me, are you?”

“No!” You assure quickly, looping your arms around his neck. “No, it’s not you. You’re perfect and I’m sure you really mean all of the nice things you say. But I just… sometimes I worry I’ll scare you away once you realize I’m not as pretty or… good as you thought.”

“That’s impossible.”

Once more you let your head fall onto his shoulder. “You don’t know that.”

His hand begins running up and down your back, soothing your sympathetic nervous system in a way that all the deep breaths in the world never could.

“I know that I really, really like you. And there’s not one part of you that I don’t find genuinely beautiful. I can’t imagine not feeling that way about you.” Your eyes flutter shut and you hum against him—a non-answer, but he doesn’t push it. Minutes go by quietly, ticking later into the night as he continues mindlessly rubbing your back and watching you breathe. “Do you want me to take you home?” He finally asks after a long while. Again, you don’t respond. He smiles. “I know you’re awake.”

The corner of your lip twitches as you attempt to suppress a grin. Spencer sighs.

“I guess if you’re already asleep you’ll just have to stay here. But it would be convenient if you’d sleepwalk to my bed so that I don’t have to carry you.”

When you begin stirring and sitting up (one eye cracked to navigate) he laughs, hands on your waist. “Would you look at that. Who knew she would be so suggestible in non-REM?” You snort as you push yourself to a standing position using Spencer’s shoulders to support yourself, and ruining the whole act. He smiles up at you like you’re something divine and lets his hands trail over your hips.

“I sleep with my eyes open.”

“Do you often have coherent conversations in your sleep, too?”

You shrug. “I’m full of surprises.”

“I’m sure you are,” he agrees, finally standing himself. “I’m assuming you don’t want to sleep in your dress?”

“I have shorts on underneath I can wear, but a shirt would be helpful.”

“Then we’ll get you a shirt.”

———————————————

Ten minutes later you’re in Spencer’s bathroom, wearing your shorts and one of his sweatshirts (you cannot imagine Spencer in a hoodie), and wiping black sludge from your eyes with makeup remover he claims was left by a friend after a particularly festive Halloween party. Hopefully he’s telling the truth—you can think of more dubious potential origins of the eye-makeup remover in his bathroom. No toothbrush—you use your finger and a generous amount of toothpaste until the red wine stains fade.

Spencer is fixing the pillows when you exit the bathroom. You hold up your hands which are completely obscured and then some by the thick fabric of his sweatshirt.

“Fits like a dream,” you say. A smile tugs at his lips as he finishes his task, before raising his eyes to you. The smile promptly fades and it’s like the sun disappearing behind an oppressive gray cloud. In an instant your stomach curdles and you feel like crawling out of your skin.

“…what?” you mumble, absolutely terrified that the thing he’d said was impossible just minutes ago has already happened. Without makeup, without a fancy dress, you’re just you, and maybe that’s not good enough.

“Uh…” He blinks, as if he’s buffering for a moment, before snapping back into action, and notably looking away from you. “It’s—it’s nothing. Do you, um—here, I tried to make it—“

“Stop. Just tell me what that was. You got all weird.”

Another pause—he looks back up at you reluctantly with a sigh.

“I did not get all weird.”

“Yes, you did. You’re still being weird. It’s freaking me out.”

He’s utterly unreadable, which drives you fucking insane, when he eventually says, “come here.” This time, you think with a chill as you shuffle on your knees across the bed to sit in front of him, it really sounds like a demand. Spencer grabs your face in his hands, studying you intently. “I know you think I’ve finally decided you’re hideously deformed, but it’s actually just the opposite. I’m trying to figure out how to keep things polite for you.”

Realization dawns on you and the swarm of new butterflies in your stomach. The usual molten gold of his irises has been encroached upon, masked by blown pupils. Your face gets hot and your voice caves when you speak.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” he agrees quietly. “Do you believe me now?”

And to his credit, you really do. The hot skin, the vibrating cells in every fiber of your being, the racing heart—your body knows he means it. Part of you, the more confident, more desirous part, drags you closer to him, ghosts your lips over his. He chuckles.

“Now you’re getting brave?”

“Am I not allowed to kiss you?” you whisper, draping your arms over his shoulders.

“You’re allowed to do whatever you want.”

The words make you shiver—the lowered, gravelly tone of his voice you’ve never heard before snaps your resolve and you lean into him, connecting your lips with a deep urgency. Spencer inhales sharply, hands wandering to your waist and bearing down firmly as you press against him. When you lean back, he follows you, insists without saying a word that you don’t stop kissing him. It sends a thrill down your spine and between your legs, which both gives you pause and eggs you on. In the end, after a very brief internal struggle, curiosity and desire win. You drop to the bed and drag him down with you—he, your willing follower, blindly searches for purchase on the plush comforter. Now he’s on top of you, legs slotted together so that his thigh is temptingly close to your core. Too shy to actually do what you want to do, you clamp your thighs around his and tilt your hips, desperate for friction. He exhales heavily, slowly pulling his lips from yours like it’s the last thing he wants to do. Fingers dig into the flesh of your hip, not enough to ache but enough to draw your attention to your movements.

“What are you doing?” he asks, firmly, but not like you’re in trouble—it’s a probing question. He’s trying to figure out if you’re aware of the way you’re nearly riding his leg.

“I don’t know,” you admit breathlessly.

“You just told me you couldn’t even listen to me say the word sex,” Spencer reminds you. “You said it was too scary.”

A frustrated whine seems to catch him by surprise, and he laughs.

“That was a long time ago. I’ve matured since then.”

“Is that what happened?” he teases.

“Honestly, I’m just really turned on right now, please—" you cut yourself off, crashing your lips into his once more. And he almost relents.

Almost.

“Slow down.”

He ceases kissing you for a second time and you’re starting to really get annoyed.

“What?” you groan. “I thought you wanted this.”

His thumbs brush over the apples of your cheeks, demanding your attention.

“I want you. In every sense of the word. If you make a bad choice tonight and it means you don’t like me anymore tomorrow, that is the opposite of what I want. I’m not saying no. I’m just asking you to think about it for a second.”

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and attempting to steady your mind and see beyond the thick fog of lust. What you find is a (mildly surprising) complete lack of fear. You’re not scared, like you thought you’d be; you feel utterly safe underneath him, with his hands on you and his heartbeat against your chest. This is a kind of intimacy you want to have with him.

Your eyes open to reveal his, close enough you can see the tiny flecks of green. And so much warmth. Everything about him is warm.

“This is what I want,” you assert. “I promise.”

His gaze flits between yours for a moment, pulling the truth from your soul like he might be able to find an imperfection there. But you mean it—and he seems satisfied. He trusts you, like you trust him.

“Okay.”

A sigh of relief never quite finds completion before he’s kissing you again. Immediately the fire is stoked once more, the heat between your legs getting warmer when he experimentally pushes his thigh against you. You breathe into the kiss, pressing down on him and surrendering to the unconscious rhythm of your hips. He lets that go on for a minute or two until you’re so distracted that you can’t kiss him back.

Unexpectedly he pulls away, disentangling himself from your legs. You stammer in frustration until his fingers hook under the soft material of your shorts. “Hips up.”

Wordlessly you comply, succumbing to his gentle words and touch. He bows to kiss you as he slides the fabric down unhurriedly. Once the shorts are gone, he sits up, and carefully lifts one of your legs over his lap, gaze unabashedly glued between them.

“Eyes up here,” you try to joke, but it’s steeped in self-consciousness and your heart is pounding. He manages, stroking the inside of your knee with a thumb as he leans down again.

“But you’re so pretty,” he murmurs, before he’s kissing you again. “Just like I knew you would be.”

You whimper when his hand skates over your stomach, lower, and lower, and—

“Tell me one more time, sweetheart.”

Your plead is just as hungry and yearning. “Please, Spencer?”

It works for him.

When his knuckles brush over your clit, you forget to breathe. When they barely skim your entrance, collecting arousal to drag back upward, your brain malfunctions. It is not enough, maddeningly so, but when he finds a careful, introductory rhythm, it’s immediately bordering on too much, too good.

Your stomach tenses and you are surprised by your own sighs and hesitant gasps as you try to adjust to the feeling of someone else’s hand between your legs.

“Does that feel good?” he murmurs against your lips.

“Mhm,” you chirp. Slow but insistent circles elicit a cry that gets caught in your throat, melting into a hum. Your eyes are closed, but you can hear the smile in Spencer’s voice.

“You’re sensitive, huh?”

“S—sometimes.”

He hums contemplatively.

“Sometimes? Can you tell me about that?”

You can’t hardly think around those gentle movements of his hand, let alone speak. He touches you like you’re something delicate. It’s torturous and perfect. But you try to answer anyway, managing to keep the stammering to a minimum.

“About what?”

“I want to know what you think about when you touch yourself.” The smooth words in tandem with an incremental increase in pressure earn your first real moan. Timid and unpracticed, but very genuine.

The answer comes immediately afterward; thoughtlessly and on a shuddering exhalation.

“You.”

“Yeah?” he smiles. “Good answer.”

Your eyes open fractionally to study his expression. You’d felt so much shame every time you’d imagined him in your bed late at night.

“Really?”

“Really. And now look at you. Letting me do it for you.” As if to remind you, he speeds up the motion of his hand. On instinct you bring your fingers to your lips as you moan through a closed throat, partly to stifle the noise and partly because you don’t know what to do with the hand that’s not gripping the duvet. “Do you only touch here?” His fingers slide down to your slick entrance and your hips buck, mourning the loss of stimulation. “Or do you touch here, too?”

You shake your head, breathing hard as he teases a finger around the soft place you’ve never really bothered to explore. “Never feels good when I try.”

“We’re gonna make it feel good, okay?”

You nod hesitantly, leaning back into the pillows when he kisses you again.

His lips are so distracting, so intoxicating you almost forget what he’s doing until he does it. It’s a foreign sensation—not entirely pleasant or unpleasant. For a moment or two your brows furrow as you focus on the feeling, worried that maybe you’re broken just as you thought—until you feel a slight stretch and you realize he’s pushing a second finger into you now. A kiss lands on your cheek when you grab his arm with a choked gasp, and he mutters, “deep breaths,” into your ear. “I know it’s new, honey, just breathe.”

“Fuck,” you whimper as you look down, and you didn’t realize you were going to say it until it’s already passed between your lips. Pressure begins melding with the promise of pleasure, and something about watching his hand move between your legs—the tendons flexing and wrist bending as he eases into what is clearly a perfected motion—arouses you so much you moan at the sight alone. Flipping pages is all you thought that hand was meant for. It’s like a secret revealed as you watch it do something so salacious, and to you.

A hot spark of pleasure flares deeper in you than you’ve ever felt. It catches and grows faster than you’d of thought—suddenly you can feel everything and it all feels better than you thought possible. Your jaw drops and a surprised huff of air blows a strand of your hair away.

“Oh my god,” comes your breathy little whisper, unprepared for and intimidated by how good he’s making you feel. Filthy noises come from between your legs and you clench around his fingers. You had no idea you could make those noises. You had no idea you could get so wet.

“Yeah, there we go.” His voice sounds a little further away now. You manage to tear your eyes away from all the action to his face. Much like you, he’s transfixed by the sight, brow furrowed and pretty lips parted in what could be concentration, or some sort of empathetic pleasure. His face has more color to it than usual and his breaths come heavier—it’s a very pleasant sight. Suddenly his fingers brush against a spot deep within you and your hips cant upward, a mewl pulled from the depths of your throat that has more control over you than you do it. Spencer’s eyes flash back to you, a grin playing at his lips. He does it again, looking right into your eyes, and you whine so pitifully your face flushes.

“Too much?” he asks. You shake your head firmly, arching your back when he unconsciously slows down. At your response his fingers begin rutting into you again, committing to that spot inside you that makes you see stars. “Of course not. You’re gonna take whatever I give you, huh?”

“Uh-huh,” you nod. You’d do just about anything for him right at this second. Spencer holds an immense amount of power over you in this moment, and potentially in all future moments moving forward. But you trust him with it.

“You don’t have anything to prove to me. I just want you to feel good. You’ll tell me if it’s too much, right?”

But it’s really not too much. It’s exactly right. Your verbal capacity is acutely limited right now, so you can’t exactly say it, but you lock eyes with him and whine shamelessly, hips twisting against his hand. You think he gets the message.

Hair falls over his face and he doesn’t fix it, opting instead to alternate his gaze between your cunt and face, cursing to himself lowly. You wouldn’t want him to stop and fix his hair—what you want is this, for him to keep pushing you toward that elusive edge and to keep looking at you like you put all the stars in the sky.

“Look at you, my pretty girl. I’m so proud of you. I know this isn’t easy. I know you were scared. Thank you for letting me do this, honey.”

It’s the unexpected tenderness of the words, perfectly misplaced in the context of the moment. It’s the devotion, the honesty in his eyes, shining through the haze of lust, which makes your stomach drop and all your muscles tense. A million thoughts jumble in your head, dizzying and thrilling and confusing, but mostly all you can think is Spencer, Spencer, Spencer. Is this how it always is? Your hands tangle in the sheets—and then all the thoughts vanish. Everything is warm and fuzzy and sparkling clean, no worries, no lingering thoughts, no self-awareness at all. It’s nirvana. It’s revelatory. It’s ridiculous that he did this all in under five minutes and you haven’t been able to do it once even with very concerted effort.

Slowly you float back into your body, breathing hard and watching through half-lidded eyes as Spencer gently pulls his hand away. Without him you feel weirdly empty and cold, like he should have been there all along. But his touch isn’t absent for long—he runs his hand over the bridge between your hips, little finger dipping into the crease of your thigh.

“That’s never… I’ve never done that before,” you admit, slurring your words only slightly.

His perfect features contort into a half-frown, half-smile.

“You’ve never had an orgasm?” You nod. His head tilts. “Really? You didn’t tell me that.”

“When would I have told you?” you laugh, finding his waist with your hand and encouraging him to settle his weight on you. He does, burying his face in your neck and exhaling heavily.

“Well?” you ask shyly, skating your fingers over his back. “Did I do it right?”

Spencer snorts, but presses a sickeningly sweet kiss to the curve of your neck.

“Did you like it?”

“Yes,” you admit, voice smaller than you’d have liked. He pushes himself up onto his forearms and kisses you softly.

“Then we both did it right.”

“But…” you stare up into his warm honey eyes, searching for any bits of hidden truth you can find. He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, utterly unconcerned. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” he agrees, “and I’ll say this because I know otherwise you’re going to worry about it forever.” He studies your face reverently for a moment, before parting his lips to speak. The words are slow to come, like he’s trying to figure the sentence out as he goes along. “You… are going to be, problematic, for me.”

Your whisper is almost as small as you feel under his heavy gaze. “What d’you mean?”

“I mean,” Spencer begins, voice low, “I think I liked that too much. Do you see why that’s troubling?”

The flame you thought had been quenched flickers back to life like a pilot light. Your thighs press together to alleviate a growing ache in a still sensitive area and you answer, “no,” with a small shake of your head. His thumb tenderly traces your jaw, ever-patient despite the fact that you’re obviously playing coy.

“Because I can’t have you all the time.”

“Yes you can,” you say without hesitation, though your eyes are fluttering. “You can have me whenever you want. Right now.”

He hums, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Not tonight. You’ve had enough. You’re tired.”

“I’m wide awake,” you slur, tangling a hand in his hair even as you lose the battle against your eyelids.

He sighs good-naturedly, gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist and brushing his lips over the delicate skin.

“You’re shockingly precocious.”

You hum.

“You just unleashed the beast. You’re like Doctor Frankenstein.”

He chuckles, sitting up and finding your shorts. You manage to be semi-helpful, lifting your legs at appropriate junctures as he tugs your clothing back on. “And you’re a nerd.”

“I don’t need to take that from you of all people.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Spencer says, and the smile in his voice makes you smile, a quarter asleep as he leans over to turn off the lamp on your side of the bed before tugging the covers over both of you.

He pulls you close in the dark, releasing a deep sigh as you curl into him. His heartbeat is steady against your ear, his arms warm around you. You can imagine making a home for yourself here. And you don’t know if he’s thinking it, but you hope he is, as you are silently repeating to yourself with every beat of his heart;

I love you

I love you.

part two

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds smut #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine

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reidmotif · 3 months ago

Text

Relax, I've Got You

Summary: Reader isn't the best at handling stress, and her roommate Spencer, notices. Luckily, he has quite a few salacious ideas on how he could make her feel better.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: friends-with-benefits situation, oral (f!recieving), fingering (f!recieving), mentions of anxiety/symptoms of anxiety.

Word Count: 2.7 k

Masterlist

You were never good at handling stress.

You were well aware of this facet of your psyche– the way tensity would often wind around your limbs, snaking into the very depths of your bones until you were entirely drained and devoid of peace, a shell of the person you were accustomed to being.

You had dealt with this complication on your own for the most part. You’d come home after a long day, and attempt to find yourself again through chamomile tea, lavender mists, and a warm blanket.

Of course, there were days where even these measures could not suffice in curing your weariness.

That’s where Spencer Reid came in.

He’d only been your roommate at first. With the economy going as it was, it was simply more practical to find one, rather than renting alone. He’d responded to an ad you’d put up, and you accepted. The process was easy, honestly. You had no qualms about sharing your living space with another person, and even found the arrangement enjoyable at times. Spencer was well-mannered, never missed rent, and wasn’t even at home most of the time. When he was, he was quiet. Sweet.

Through time, you found yourself becoming friends with the man. The conversation was light and easy, and in a rare turn of events, you started to open up to him. Even more surprisingly, he returned the favor, adding to the understanding that was fast growing between the two of you. It seemed only natural, since both of you were made naturally vulnerable by the circumstances of your situation. You’d come to your apartment, drop the mask of the day, and see that Spencer was already there, becoming an extension of the solace you found at home. Soon enough, the comfort of your couch was simply synonymous to him as well.

It didn’t take long for Spencer to notice the anxieties that would plague you when a deadline came about, or when you simply fixated on an issue for too long. The way your bedroom light wouldn’t shut until 4 AM, or how you’d pace in the kitchen, so wired that your body denied you the rest you so desperately needed. He noticed the dark circles, the occasional irritability (followed by an apology, of course), the headaches, everything. Which is why he thought nothing of it to suggest some remedies for your troubles over breakfast one day.

“Caffeine can actually increase stress, if you weren’t aware.” He says, eyeing your second cup of coffee that morning. “There’s actually a large amount of data that indicates you should limit caffeine intake, especially if you’re already anxious.”

You narrow your eyes, furrowing your brows slightly. “Says who?” You retort, not quite ready to give up your chosen beverage.

“The NIH, Penn State, the AMA-”

“Okay, okay. Sorry. I got it.” You interrupt, knowing you’d started a losing battle the moment you’d questioned him. “I’ll try to cut down on it.”

He grins, satisfied with how the interaction had played out. You, on the other hand, started to drift farther away from your current setting. You swallow, putting down your coffee cup before rubbing your eyes, a soft sigh escaping you.

“Something wrong?” Spencer asks, cautiously, his voice soft.

You tsk, shaking your head and shrugging a bit at your own dilemma. “It's just.. I’m already so tired. I’m exhausted and the day’s barely begun.” You pause, unable to articulate just how fatigued you were. “It’s like I can already feel the mid-afternoon headache I’m going to get later, and it hasn’t even started yet.” You hate the way you sound, longing for the day you could fully relax for even a fraction of a second.

“You’d probably be a lot less tired if you slept a little more.” Spencer suggests, and you shoot him a death glare.

“Don’t you think I know that?” You snap. “I’m trying. It’s not that easy. It’s just-” You groan, stopping yourself as the quick realization dawns on you that you’ve misdirected your frustrations. There’s a wave of shame rising up almost immediately, heating your cheeks up in regret.

“I’m sorry, Spencer. Sorry. That’s unfair of me. I know you’re just looking out for me.” You murmur, taking a deep breath to calm your senses.

“Hey, don’t worry.” He says, his voice low and compassionate. “I get it. I know you’ve got a lot on your plate right now.”

You nod, closing your eyes as you continue to breathe. He continues to speak, his voice remaining warmhearted.

“There are actually quite a few ways to alleviate stress. Some experts recommend meditation, exercise and yoga. I wouldn’t mind doing those with you, if you were interested.” He offers, as he continues to ramble, lost in his own explanation in the hopes of being of service to you. “Some experts even name sex as a useful stress reliever, due to the endorphins and oxytocin released after completion.”

You give a fruitless laugh. “Jesus, I wish. I don’t have the time to try and find someone willing to do that for me.”

Spencer goes quiet, and you finally open your eyes. You’re met with his stare, trained on your form, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“What?” You ask, upon returning his gaze.

He clears his throat, shaking his head, as if he was ridding himself of a passing thought. “Nothing. Sorry. I’m sorry. I hope you do find something that works for you though. I hate seeing you like this.”

You soften at his concern. “Thanks, Spencer.” You say, the affection in your voice unmistakable. “Maybe I’ll end up taking on.. Yoga? That seems doable, right?”

He smiles. “Yoga. Right.”

The days pass on, until you find yourself in a similar scenario you’ve been in one too many times. You’re pacing the kitchen, a small clock reading that it was currently 2 AM. You couldn’t even really decipher the source of tonight’s anxiety– all you know is you feel it, and you feel it deeply.

That’s when a voice breaks through the darkness, halting your movements altogether.

“Hey, are you alright?” Spencer’s soft, slightly deeper voice.

“Oh, yeah.” You call out, despite the growing tightness in your chest. “I’m fine. You can go back to sleep. Sorry for waking you.”

He shakes his head, scratching his head as he makes his way towards you. “It’s nothing.” He reassures. “I needed to pee anyway. What’s going on with you?” He inquires, gently.

You rub at your chest, biting your lip. “The usual.”

“Work?” He asks, softly.

You purse your lips. “I’m not even sure at this point. Just really anxious.”

His expression softens. A beat of silence passes between the two of you.

“I’m- um. I’m willing to help.” He stammers out, suddenly seeming much more nervous than he was a moment ago.

You give a dejected smile. “That’s sweet, Spencer, but I dunno. I think I have to deal with this on my own.”

“No, I mean. I can help. I��m willing to help. To do that for you. I’m your friend. I want to help.” He restates, his voice a little urgent.

“Willing to do what?” You ask, wholly confused with where he was going with this.

He takes a breath. “Sex. Or, an orgasm, at least. You said no one you knew would be willing to help you like that. I am. If you want.” He blurts out.

You stand there, momentarily shocked into silence. You’re suddenly able to recall the conversation you’d had, just a few days prior, and realize what he was trying to say. Here you were, in your kitchen, with your friend- your roommate, and he was selflessly offering himself to you. For sex. For de-stressing sex. He sounded so earnest, despite the obvious lewdness of his offer, and the juxtaposition made your head spin.

“I..” You start, your voice caught in your throat.

“You don’t have to feel compelled to say yes. I’m just offering. I want to help you.” He interjects, his voice still carrying that unselfishness you’d known from the very beginning.

“I.. no. I mean, yes. I want to say yes.” You find yourself admitting after a moment. “But.. are you sure? It’s.. I mean, it’s sex, Spencer.” You whisper.

“I’m aware.” He says, matching your softer tone. “I’m okay with that. Are you?”

You take a breath. Looking up at him, you take in his slightly tousled hair illuminated by the soft moonlight that drifted in through your apartment windows. His white sleep shirt was crumpled, and even in the darkness that enveloped you, you could decipher the kindness in his eyes, his mere presence bringing a shade of ease into you as you spoke to him.

“Yes.” You murmur out, the words flowing out with no hesitation. “I’m okay with that.”

“Can I kiss you?” He says, gently, and your nod of affirmation is almost immediate.

He steps closer and cups your cheek, before pressing his lips against yours gently. It’s a sweeter kiss, something that, despite never saying out loud, you would have expected from him. His mouth moves languidly against yours, before pulling away, slightly out of breath.

“Kissing actually helps to reduce cortisol.” He murmurs. “It indirectly lowers stress as a result. Is it working?”

And true to his words, you realized that the tightness in your chest had faded somewhat, no longer blaring with the intensity you had just felt a few minutes prior. An entirely new feeling settled within you- an ache, a need for this man and what he brought to you.

“Yeah. It’s working.” You mumble out.

As if he could read your mind, Spencer gently takes your hand. “Let’s move to the couch, yeah?” He murmurs, already leading you to his spot of preference.

He gently guides you to sit on the couch, quickly finding your lips once again to exchange some soft kisses along the way. His hands drift up and down your back, fingertips light and tender. His every touch speaks to something more, to an unspoken dedication that you’d never felt before until this moment.

To something that maybe extended beyond the original purpose of your rendezvous. “Is this alright?” He asks, his tone hushed and reverent.

You nod, almost in a trance. He was so gentle, so reassuring. He was exactly what you needed.

His lips find yours again and you respond eagerly, letting your hands tangle into the mess of brown hair that sat atop his head. He let out a small groan as your fingers slightly tugged on the strands, sending a thrill through you.

He starts to trail the kisses down your neck, seeking out more sensitive spots that could bring you into a further state of rest and repose. Everything about you spurred him on, it seemed. He paid attention to every noise, every movement– his ultimate goal seeming to hinge on your pleasure throughout this.

Of course, you respond accordingly to the dedication, a soft gasp or whimper escaping you when he would mouth at the perfect spot, which would only cause him to increase his actions tenfold, leading to even more response on your end.

The perfect feedback loop driving you to pliancy and ecstasy all at once.

His lips begin to drift down, and you realize he’s settling in between your legs now, hands on the waistband of your sleep clothes, urging you to lie down completely, which you do.

“Gonna take these off now.” He whispers, looking up at you between your legs.

“Please.” You respond, waiting with bated breath.

He manages to pull down the last barrier between you two, before being met with the mess he’d created. His lips parted as his fingers trailed lightly over your wet slit, your arousal evident on his finger as he marveled on the effect he could have on you.

“Jesus, you’re beautiful.” He whispers, as if his eyes are set upon something precious, something worthy of worship. And in a way, isn’t that exactly what he’d set out to do the moment he’d placed his face between your thighs?

He loops his arms around your thighs, before slowly allowing his tongue to dart out, delicately, tracing the wetness of your pussy. A moan slips out of you, low and needy, and that’s all the confirmation he needs before he’s diving in, devouring your cunt like a man starved.

“Spencer.” You gasp out. You say his name like prayer, like he is god-given, because in this moment, he is.

His tongue traces your clit in circles, before directly placing his lips over the swollen bud, applying some light suction. The tenderness in the action, the way his eyes flit upto yours, watching your gaze for the utmost reassurance that he was doing right by you, only hurdle you closer and closer to your pleasurable end.

It’s almost as if you’re floating, your back arching as his face stubbornly stays buried in your cunt, lapping at your wetness insistently. He wants your release just as bad as you do, and it’s clear he’ll do anything for the sweetness that comes with you falling apart in his arms.

“Oh god.” You moan out- how is it possible to feel so airy, and yet so present all at once? To feel every movement of Spencer’s warm, wet tongue lavishing your clit, and still be somewhere else entirely- a new height of pleasure you had sorely needed all along.

One of his hands leaves the iron-grip it had your thighs in, letting his fingers drift towards your entrance. He slips the digits in, slowly pumping into you, only adding to the overwhelming rapture you found yourself in. Your eyes shoot open, and you find yourself writhing against him.

“Spencer- oh god. Please, please.” You babble out, legs starting to tense with the beginnings of your orgasm.

He only pulls away enough to murmur softly. “That’s it.” His fingers continue their steady pace into you, his grip on your thigh keeping you planted to the mattress. “I got you, love. Come for me.”

With nothing else to say, he resumes eating you out, and the combination of his fingers and mouth finally barrels you towards your orgasm, shuddering as it rips through you, as your every sense is clouded- with this, with him.

It’s only until you’ve ridden out the entirety of your orgasm that he pulls away. Sitting upright, he leans forward to caress your jaw, taking in the rapid rise and fall of your chest, the flushed appearance your face had taken on in the throes of gratification.

“Feeling better?” He asks, softly.

“Entirely.” You whisper back, almost in awe. Not only at how well it worked, but how adoringly he stared at you, it being enough to stop your heart in your chest. Did he always look like this? How did you never notice?

“Can I return the favor?” You implore, already beginning to get up, but Spencer pushes you back down lightly, shaking his head.

“You’re tired.” He says, as if his word was fact, despite these being your feelings that were being spoken about. “Right now, the oxytocin coursing through your body is priming you perfectly for sleep, and God knows you need it.” He chuckles out.

You realize that he’s right, and for the first time, you feel the fatigue that comes naturally with sleep, as opposed to the restless nights you’d been dealing with. You still feel disappointed though, feeling a sting of rejection as you’re unable to touch him back. Still, your tiredness is undeniable, and so you nod.

He gets up, finding a blanket to lay on top of you, before kneeling beside your face. He looks at you with subtle veneration, before letting his lips brush against your forehead.

“I’ll take you up on your offer tomorrow, though, if that’s alright.” He murmurs. “When you’re rested.”

Your smile is immediate. “Deal.” You whisper out.

He looks at you for another beat, before letting his knuckles brush against your cheek, slowly retreating to his bedroom, as to let you get the rest you so desperately needed.

You close your eyes, amazed by the tranquility that came with Spencer. How simple intimacy came with him, as if that’s how it should’ve been all along.

You know you’ll ponder on this fact in greater detail later on, but for now, you relished in serenity of the afterglow.

“Spencer Reid.” You think. “What divine comfort you are.”

HOOOLY SHIT. how long has it been since i uploaded? a long time? i think. hahahaha. in between traveling, [redacted life updates], and even more, i just wasn't very inspired to write. i hope this speaks to some of you, and i hope it was enjoyable to read. as usual, any likes, comments, reblogs are so so so deeply appreciated. feedback as well! thank you so so so much for reading regardless, i am eternally grateful for any and all support <3 (oh also haha. this was written for @imagining-in-the-margins friends with benefits challenge! check it out.)

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slow-drowned-angels · 2 years ago

Text

Practicing interviewing because I have one coming up and it’s like taking a Performing Neurotypicality test. It’s exhausting dear lord. But I’m feeling better about the actual one?

#I’m attacking it like any other test prep (aka run practice tests until I feel comfortable) but like one hour of interview prep drains me #more than three hours of standardized testing test prep smh #alx.txt

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chunghasweetie · 6 months ago

Note

Haiii i've never submitted a request so bare with me.

What do you think about a criminal jk who's been in prison for over a year (don't know what crime u can pick honestly) him and y/n are in a established relationship and she's been waiting all this time for him to get out. Anyway he comes home and yk.. i'm sure you can get the rest ;)

𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐘 | J.JK

— pairing | fem!oc x criminal!jjk

— summary | (sorry it took so long!🩷) jungkook’s been locked up for 4 years and he’s finally back to see you !

— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)

unprotected sex, cursing, praising, daddy kink, dirty talk, crying, fluff(?)

— word count | 3.5k words

— song suggestion | wrong in the right way — chris brown

It was his first night freed from his 4 year jail sentence. After having a buddy drop off his car on the way to her, he was finally there.

Locked up for assault and battery and countless other charges he was finally free and finally able to see his woman again.

His tatted, muscular body stood at her doorstep, “Fuck,” He exhaled, taking a drag from his cigarette.

He was anxious to see her after endless phone calls and letters for years. He surprised her a day early. He finally stopped thinking about it and knocked at her door.

“Coming!” She hurried down the stairs, not expecting any guests at that hour.

She was in her pajama outfit, hair lightly curled and her face bare beside some eye brightener.

She opened the door, and she had almost gone into shock.

She came to a full body pause, color practically draining from her face when she seen him. “J-Jungkook!”

Jungkook's eyes softened at the sight of her, seeing the tears. He stepped forward, grabbing her in a tight embrace.

“I missed you so fucking much Y/n.” He mumbled into her hair. His hands ran up and down her back, holding her close.

She sobbed, “You bastard! Why didn’t you let me know you got out early?! I would’ve picked you up, done my makeup better, took you to dinner—“ She rambled.

Jungkook pulled back, gazing down at her with a smirk.

“Because I wanted to surprise you, Y/n. And you look fucking perfect just like this.” He ran his hand through her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. “Finally face to face with my queen.”

“Fucking come in.” She sniffed. “All standing here in my doorway.” She hurried him in.

Jungkook stepped inside, his eyes scanning the apartment.

It looked a lot different than what he had remembered. It was a lot more modern and a bit girly. But it still felt like home.

He took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of her perfume. He followed her to the living room, his eyes locked on her as she walked away from him. He couldn't help but grin.

He was finally home.

“Missed you so much” She sniffed. “I didn’t fucking plan anything— Shit. You gotta be hungry right? Are you cold?”

“Relax baby. I didn’t expect you to be completely ready tonight,” He wrapped his arms around her from behind, pulling her close to him.

“But yes, I am fucking starving. Even thought I just wanna sit here and hold you.” He nuzzled his face into her neck, breathing in her scent.

“No baby— Gotta take care of you first. Probably want to eat good. Prison must’ve been so rough.” She pouted, babying him.

“Yeah, it was. But nothing's worse than being away from you, ma. You know that, right?” He pulled away from her, turning her around to face him.

He cupped her cheeks, his thumbs rubbing against her soft skin. “I missed your smile, your laugh, your attitude. Everything Y/n.”

“I missed you more than you could imagine Jungkook.” Her lip quivered. “So much.”

“I know, ma. You always made sure I know. You were always the one person I could count on, even behind bars.” He leaned in, pressing his lips to hers.

The kiss was soft and gentle, but it held a depth of passion that only they could understood. “I love you.”

“I love you more. So much more.” She kissed him back, “I’ll cook for you. I’ll show you to our room— I fixed it up for you!”

She led him upstairs, rushing him due to her excitement. “Are you ready to see it?”

“I'm more than ready, ma. I've been dreaming of this moment for so long. I've missed our bed, our room, all of it."

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "You look stunning, ma. You've never looked more beautiful to me."

Their room looked more homey and relaxing. She bought him a whole new closet full of clothes and shoes to his liking.

“I bought you some new ashtrays to put on your nightstand.” She told him. “There’s some lighters down there too.”

“You're spoiling me. And I’m more than grateful. I can already smell the smoke wafting through the air. You know me more than anyone." He grinned, running his hand over the new clothes.

"I love what you've done here, ma. You really outdid yourself for me and I couldn’t thank you more.” He added, thanking her once more.

“Anyrhing for you. I wanted you to come home and feel comfortable and relaxed.” She smiled.

“Now go shower, change, whatever you need to do to get all that prison time off your skin.” She laughed. “I’m gonna go downstairs and cook you some food that’ll knock you the hell out.”

Jungkook smiled, pulling her into a deep, passionate kiss. "You're the best, ma. I love you so fucking much." He whispered, giving her earlobe a gentle kiss before pulling away. "I'll be down in a few.”

“Take your time baby. Really.” She pecked his cheek, hesitant to leave him while she walked down to the kitchen.

Jungkook grabbed her hand before she could walk away, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss.

"Thank you again baby— Seriously." He gave her a reassuring smile, squeezing her hand gently.

She left him and headed back downstairs, prepping dinner for him.

“I’ll miss you!” She called out from the kitchen, blushing and giggling in excitement.

She couldn’t believe he was really out of prison.

For years she spent everyday fantasizing and day dreaming about him finally living at home again. For him to actually be here was ground breaking.

She had devoted herself to that man the entire time he’d been away. Her friends would try to encourage her to see other men to fill in the gaps of his absence but she absolutely refused.

She had many opportunities. She was a beautiful woman.

But no other man could ever compare to Jungkook.

She started preparing a quick yet savory meal for them to eat while he was showering.

She had prepped wonton soup for the actual night of his arrival but she had enough ingredients to make it for him tonight.

Jungkook was upstairs. He stripped down to his white tank, revealing his well-built, tattooed body.

He smirked at himself in the mirror, satisfied with how much he had grown during his time.

He turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature to his liking before stepping in.

After scrubbing and shaving after what felt like forever, Jungkook hummed to himself as he stepped out the shower, feeling refreshed and anew.

He dried himself up before wrapping the towel around his waist, he stepped into the kitchen where his girl was. “Smells amazing baby, what is it?" He kissed her cheek, leaning on the counter.

“I made a homemade wonton soup with a side of rice.” She smiled, “You look clean. Someone’s already comfy back home.”

Jungkook chuckled, “With everything you’ve done, you made it easy.” He grinned as his stomach growled, looking down at himself.

“Go put some clothes on and dry your hair. You’re gonna get sick. I laid out clothes on the bed.” She instructed. “Use my hairdryer in the bathroom. Should be hung up in the bathroom.”

She took care of him and she tried his best to always pamper him. "Yes ma'am." He smiled, standing up and giving her a soft kiss on the cheek. "I'll be right back, baby."

Jungkook went back to the bathroom and dried his hair then put on the clothes she laid out for him.

He took a look at himself in the mirror and smiled. He had been evaluating their home since he arrived, she had really good taste.

He walked back into the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her waist, kissing her neck and inhaling her scent once more.

 Couldn’t get enough.

“So much better huh baby?” She hummed, lost in his embrace.

“Definitely, baby. You always make me better." Jungkook whispered in her ear before giving her a soft and lingering kiss.

He reached for the food she was cooking, but she stopped him. “No. I’ll serve you. Go sit down.”

“Body” He obliged, not able to help it but steal another kiss before sitting down to eat with her. "This smells amazing, love."

She served him his soup along with a cup of jasmine hot tea.

She placed his bowl and cup on his side of the table. She served herself after him, sitting across from him. “Let me know if you like it. Too hot, too cold, too spicy, too salty. Anything like that.”

Jungkook blew on his soup before taking a spoon full, burning his tongue a little bit but he didn't care.

He was just desperate for a home cooked meal.

"This is so fucking good, Y/n… like really fucking good." He glanced up at her, giving her a little smirk before taking another bite.

“I’m not just saying that either.” He munched, lost in the taste of his food.

She laughed, “Glad you’ like it.” She enjoyed her soup across from him.

Jungkook finished his soup, but didn't finish his whole bowl of rice.

He sat back and took a sip of his tea. "So how was your day today? Besides making me the best fucking soup I've ever had?"

“I just spent today prepping for you to get here. Cleaned all day.” She exhaled.

“Was the rice not cooked right? You didn’t finish.” She looked at him, concerned a bit at his action.

Jungkook shook his head. "The rice is fine, love. It's just not my favorite thing to eat."

He took another sip of his tea and reached under the table, squeezing her knee. "It’s all I ever ate when I was in there— not really my favorite at the moment."

“Oh my gosh!” Her eyes widened, “I wasn’t even thinking!”

“Baby you make rice with every meal. It’s like muscle memory for you.” He chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. You’re too cute to worry.”

“It’s my man’s first night home from prison. Of course your opinion matters to me.” She sighed.

Jungkook smiled at her and looked down at his empty bowl. He reached for her hand and glanced back up at her. "You don't have to care about anything when it comes to me. I’m amazed by everything you do.”

“Mm so sweet.” She blushed, “Go relax.” She seized their bowls, washing them in the sink.

Jungkook laughed, "I just want to make sure you're happy too. Wouldn’t want my baby like that in her own house" He stood, slowly making his way around the kitchen island.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and moved his lips to her neck, giving her a soft kiss. "Smell so good baby. Can’t get away from you.”

She blushed at the close proximity, continuing the dishes.

Jungkook pulled away from her neck, his eyes glancing over her face. He enjoyed seeing her blush more than he thought he did.

"What's going on in your head? You can tell me you know." He leaned against the counter, watching her intently.

“Nothing.” She shrugged. “I’m just happy you’re here. More than happy I’m just— thankful.”

She started getting emotional, blinking back tears. “I just thought— I thought you’d have to stay longer.”

Jungkook walked towards her, his finger pushed her chin up, making her look at him.

"Don't cry on me now, damn baby. Making me feel guilty.” He wipes away a tear that fell down her cheek with his thumb. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close.

“Sorry sorry” She apologized, fanning herself.

Jungkook smiled, pressing a kiss to her forehead, moving her to clear her teary eyes. "Don't apologize for showing your emotions to me. I love how much you care for me."

“You smell so good too.” She hummed against him. “Better than that nasty fresh out of prison smell.” She laughed.

Jungkook grins, sniffing himself to remind her of the smell she meant, his arms squeezing around her. "If you thought it smelled bad..."

He kisses her cheek, “Imagine when I wasn't this clean for four years.” He teased, laughing.

“Ewww.” She giggled, “I’m okay not thinking about that.”

Jungkook chuckles, pulling back to look at her, cupping her cheek and wiping away loose tears with his thumb. "You're so cute."

He was laughing again. "Y/n, I missed you... I really fucking missed you. I don’t care how many times I told you tonight.”

“I missed you too Jungkook— Writing and calling you definitely isn’t as good as having you here at home with me.” She admitted.

Jungkook smiles, his eyes bright with happiness. "Yeah, I know... I fucking hated the phone. But-" He takes her hand in his.

"Being here now, being able to show up in the morning and see you again and again will make up for it all." He flashes her a wide grin.

“Four years was such a long time.” She groaned, walking out from the kitchen and walking up to their bedroom.

Jungkook nods and follows her, watching her hips sway as his thoughts drift to more primal thoughts.

He felt bad for wanting to get straight to it. But she had been teasing him in those

"It was. But hey-" He says from behind her. He wraps arms around her mid-section. "I'm here now. Should we get to it? Break our bed in together?"

“Oh my gosh you’re so annoying” She smacks his arm, “Go put on a movie while I change. You’re gonna be scrolling for a minute. I’ll be back.”

Jungkook laughs and lets go, jumping onto the bed. He grabbed the remote off the nightstand, surfing through the different streaming services.

He hadn’t seen anything like this in quite some time, but he already knew what he was looking for. She was definitely wrong about him scrolling for a minute.

She changed into a pajama set, being sure to show off a bit by leaving some buttons undone.

She knew what was gonna go down tonight, she just wanted him to wait for it.

She made her way back to the bed, resting her body beside him closely. “What’re we watching?”

“Starting tonight we’re gonna watch every Marvel movie made since I got locked up.”

“Are you serious?” She groaned. “That’s an insane amount of movies.”

“But,” He pouted cutely. “Your baby has been locked up for sooo long.”

“I hate you.”

He wraps arms around her mid-section, resting his head on her waist. "You know you love me, ma... and I sure as fuck love you."

“I love you more” She laughed and pecked his lips, playing with his hair as they watched the first movie together.

Jungkook hums in contentment, closing his eyes and letting her play with his hair.

Throughout the movie, Jungkook couldn’t help but grow more and more desperate.

He was on edge for the past few months. In prison they called and wrote letters but recently her letters had been more

Seductive.

Letters that consisted wordy details of her burning desire and unstoppable urge to have him.

“One more? Please? Last time really.” He pleaded.

“Fine.” She pecked his lips.

A few minutes later.

“Please?”

“Okay.” She pecked his lips.

More minutes go by.

“One more? Last time really.”

“Ugh fine.” She groaned, pecking his lips once more.

“Fuck I can’t take it." He groans as she pecks his lips, unable to help but leaning in and making out with her as their movie plays in the background.

“Don’t know how you expected this to go when you look like this.” He mumbled against her lips, mouth getting messier. “Wanna fuck you so bad.”

“Need to make love to you since you got locked up” Her kisses grew more demanding.

Jungkook flips them over, pinning her down onto the bed and kissing her harder in return. "I needed you to fuckin' kiss me that hard when I was locked up.”

His hips buck up against hers, grinding his hardened cock against her thighs. “Dreamt about this every fuckin’ night.”

“I know baby fuck— me too” She grunted.

Jungkook reaches over to unbutton her pajama pants, before sliding them down her legs slowly— trailing kisses down her thighs as he does. "Take 'em off, baby. I wanna see how fuckin' wet you are for me already."

“Wanted dick since you got locked up— Been wet since you got released.” She couldn’t help the bashful expression all over her.

Yeah?" Jungkook grins, slipping his fingers underneath her panties and teasingly spreading her lower lips, his fingers slipping and teasing over her clit. "And how wet are you actually baby?"

“Fuck” She could cum at the contact alone. “S-So wet.”

Jungkook snickers, slipping a finger deep inside of her and pumping it in and out slowly, moaning at the tight and hot feeling around his fingers. "Fuckin' wet and tight girl hm? Huh baby?"

“F-Feels good daddy” The sensual nickname slipped from her lips, making his ears ring at the sweet sensation of her voice.

Jungkook groans at that nickname, thrusting his finger in and out of her faster now. "Shiiit, baby, you know I love it when you call me that."

He then pulls his fingers out, sucking them clean. “Love the way you taste. Needed that for years.”

“C-Can’t take it” She whimpered at the feeling of his retracting fingers.

Maybe it had been too long for her. By herself it took a good amount of work for her to get off but this was ruining her in seconds.

Jungkook smirks at that, pulling his pants down, his already hard length flopping out. "You’re gonna take it good baby?”

“Daddy please—“

“Is that all you got?" Jungkook taunts, teasing her entrance with his tip. "Beg some more, or you ain't getting this dick."

His dominant and demanding voice was coming back into play, almost better than what she remembered.

“Want it so bad. I’ll take it good, I promise.” Her voice cried, “So desperate.”

Jungkook groans at her begging, slowly pushing inside her. "Mmm fuck— so damn tight, just like that baby.”

“Take Daddy's dick." Him fully entering into her in a slow, but deep pace.

Her chest rose as he slid inside her. She swallowed, adjusting herself to his length.

Jungkook smirks at her reaction, gripping her hips as he begins to thrust in faster, a low moan leaving his lips.

“Missed this wet ass pussy” He stared her down. “You miss that, baby? How Daddy fucks you like this?"

“Y-Yes”

“Fat ol’ ass and huge ass tits— And a pretty face. God, you're so fucking hot." Jungkook grunts, picking up the pace, thrusting harder and faster.

The sound of skin on skin filling the room, making sure to hit that sweet spot. "This what you wanted, huh baby?

“All I-I wanted— all I needed.” She whined out. “Fucking amazing.”

“I thought I was desperate." Jungkook growls, slapping her ass hard. “Such a pretty girl. Didn’t try to play me once.”

The room is filled with even louder wet slaps of his hips against her ass and his smacks. His thrusts becoming more erratic, his cock growing desperate for release.

“All for you, all yours. Been with no one but you.” She moaned, truthfully speaking.

"Good girl." Jungkook leans forward, nipping at her neck before whispering in her ear.

"Say my name, Y/n. Who's dick are you on?" He grips her throat.

“Fuck! Yours Daddy! Yours!” She was a mess on his cock, eyes rolling back.

“That’s my girl. All fucking mine.” He was watching as her body shudders from his touch.

He admired the way she was breaking down in front of him, going dumb on his dick.

The way her body twitched, he knew she was growing closer.

He watched her, clearly enjoying her lack of breath. The way she squirms, his to control and use.

"Gonna cum on daddy’s dick baby? Gonna let go for me?" He's almost there, wanting to finish strong.

“Want your cum— Need it.” She whimpered, eyes growing teary from the overwhelming pleasure. “Please daddy.”

“So fucking hard to say no to you." Jungkook snorts, pounding into her mercilessly. He was seeking his needed high so he could cum right with her.

The couple both reached their orgasms, moaning each other’s names before giving in and cumming together.

“Fuck— so in love with you.” Jungkook grunts, emptily filling her up. He catches his breath, panting with her.

She could hardly get out of the bed because of him, she was limp.

She was shuttering from her orgasm. Her legs were a trembling mess.

He watches her collect herself, loving the sight of her. The way she looks so used and satisfied, only at his hands.

Once she was all together, she got back in bed with him, kissing and chucking with him as the two panted together.

“I still got it.”

“Goddamnit Jungkook.” She hid her face. “Yes- you do.”

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faebled-stories · 1 month ago

Text

A Dragon's Deal with the Princess

Itzy's Shin Yuna and Hwang Yeji x Male reader.

Part 2

“Again!” Yeji’s voice echoed around the mirrored walls of the dance studio. It was a routine practice for their upcoming comeback, but today felt different—suffocating, almost. The leader was harsher than usual, picking apart even the smallest mistakes. The girls exchanged glances, unsure how to respond, recognizing the frustration etched on their leader’s face.

“Maybe we should take a break,” Lia suggested, to the silent relief of the group. Yeji looked at her exhausted members—panting, sweaty, barely able to stand. The guilt gnawed at her. She hadn’t meant to push them this hard. With a reluctant nod, she granted the break, and Ryujin and Chaeryeong bolted for the door, desperate for fresh air.

Yeji paced around the studio, lost in thought. Her frustration had been simmering for months. She knew why, but admitting it felt embarrassing. She and Y/N had been together for almost a year, and despite their deep connection, they hadn’t moved past kissing. It wasn’t that Y/N didn’t want to take it to the next step; he was patient, respectful of the boundaries she had set. But Yeji was starting to second-guess her decision.

Being an idol meant caution—her relationship with Y/N, no matter how perfect he was, didn’t matter to the public. What did matter was her image. But still, the guilt of holding back, knowing how much Y/N craved more intimacy, was wearing on her.

“Unnie?” A voice snapped her out of her thoughts. Yuna, the maknae, hadn’t left the room like the others. With her youthful innocence, Yuna still managed to exude a confidence that drew people in.

“What’s going on? Why are you so hard on us?” Yuna’s tone was soft, almost childlike, and it made Yeji’s heart sink. She didn’t want to be the reason the girls were worn down.

“I’m sorry, Yuna. I’ve just been... frustrated.” Yeji sighed as they both sat down, finally giving her aching legs a break.

“Is it the label again?” Yuna asked, her eyes wide with concern. “Unnie, this comeback will be amazing. I can feel it.”

Yeji let out a soft laugh. Sure, their last few comebacks hadn’t reached the heights of their earlier hits, but her frustration ran deeper than that. She debated whether to tell Yuna the truth but decided against it. Some things weren’t meant to be shared with the youngest member.

As the other girls returned, the conversation shifted, and Yeji was grateful for the distraction. But Yuna wasn’t convinced. She could sense something more was weighing on her leader.

The ride back to the dorm was quiet. The exhaustion from practice clung to the girls, their bodies sore and minds drained. No one even muttered a goodnight as they each disappeared into their rooms.

Yeji showered quickly and changed into her favorite pajamas, a matching set featuring her doppelgänger, Light Fury—one of Y/N’s thoughtful gifts. She smiled at the memory but her thoughts quickly returned to the day’s events and, once again, her pent-up frustration. A sudden knock at the door jolted her out of the moment.

“What do you want, Yuna? I’m busy,” Yeji muttered, flustered, as she opened the door. But Yuna wasn’t having it. Without a word, the younger girl marched into the room and sat on the bed, crossing her arms.

“Unnie, what’s going on? And don’t tell me it’s nothing.” Yuna’s tone had shifted—there was no more innocence in her voice.

“It doesn’t concern you, Yuna. Drop it,” Yeji replied, sitting down opposite her, their positions mirroring earlier in the studio.

But Yuna wasn’t backing down. After a tense exchange, Yeji finally gave in, too exhausted to argue anymore.

“Fine. I’ll tell you, but you can’t say a word to anyone. Promise?”

Yuna nodded, leaning forward, eager to finally get answers.

“Y/N and I have been together for a while and he's amazing, perfect even, but... we haven’t been intimate yet,” Yeji admitted quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. Yuna blinked, processing the confession.

“That’s it? You’ve been acting like this because you’re horny?” Yuna’s bluntness stunned Yeji, her face turning a deep shade of red

“What? So you're frustrated that he doesn't want it?” Yuna was getting to the bottom of this one way or another. Yeji’s face was red, almost blending into her hair. This has to be the most embarrassing conversation she's ever had.

“No, Its my idea” the words barely leaving her mouth, as it registered to Yuna she let out a frustrated whine

“So what's the problem? just fuck him and be done already. If its your choice to not do it just go to his house right now and make him fuck you, he would probably be done in thirty seconds by how backed up he is” Yuna was starting to get mad.

“Yuna! It’s not that simple... I want my-our first time to be special. He deserves it,” Yeji mumbled, embarrassed. But Yuna caught the slip in her words and wasn’t going to let her off that easily.

“You're a virgin? Why? Do you know how many people are dying to have you? You could literally walk down the street at any time and have someone for the night. You didn't even do it before getting with Y/N? Unnie, you're 24 years old.” Shocked didn't even begin to describe how Yeji is feeling right now, she thought she knew her members well but hearing Yuna talk like this, was a new side she's never seen.

“So you're saying you’ve had… y’know” Yeji stumbled on her words before Yuna finishes her sentences

“Sex? Yeah I’ve been fucked plenty of times. The feeling of a nice thick cock inside you, there's almost nothing like it. Do you remember when I did my performance of “U Go Girl”? The amount of staff members I had in my dressing room” she chuckled, reminiscing about her moments. “Most were smaller than I wanted but there was this one guy that was passable. I had taken so much that day that my makeup was ruined and-”

“Okay stop! Yuna how can you talk about that so openly. I don't want to hear about you getting intimate” Yuna rolled her eyes but she knew the leader was right, the topic should be focused on Yeji’s sex like or lack thereof..

“Because it’s not a big deal, unnie,” Yuna replied, arms crossing “Look, I can help you with this. Trust me.”

Despite her hesitation, Yeji eventually agreed. They spent the rest of the night planning, with Yuna more excited than Yeji could comprehend. The next day, they would go shopping for what Yuna called “essentials,” preparing for a moment Yeji was still nervous about.

The following morning, Yuna was up early, eager to drag her leader out for their shopping trip. Before they left, Yeji called Y/N.

“Hey, honey. Can I borrow your car today? Yuna and I are going shopping.”

“Of course, babe. I told you before just text me if you need it. You don’t need to ask” Y/N replied, his voice warm and loving. “Though I do love hearing your voice, maybe I should change my rule.”

Yeji laughed, her heart swelling at his sweet words. “You always know how to make me smile,” she said, feeling warmth spread through her chest.

“Its my favorite thing to do,” he replied softly. “You’re everything to me, you know that, right?”

“I do,” she said, her voice filled with affection. “I love you so much.”

“Love you too, honey. Have fun and say Hi to the members for me.”

After exchanging one more set of "I love you’s," she hung up, her mind still racing with thoughts of what was to come. a smile playing on her lips. This is going to be unforgettable.

-----

In the mall, the girls walked around in their typical idol disguise: all-black outfits, matching hats, and masks. Most idols knew the disguises didn’t help much, but companies insisted. Yuna led Yeji to a lingerie store, shelves filled with everything from practical undergarments to more provocative pieces. Yuna piled item after item into Yeji’s basket, forbidding her from interfering during the selection process.

With the basket full, Yuna nudged Yeji toward the changing rooms. “Go on, try them on,” she teased, waving her off.

Hesitantly, Yeji slipped into one of the sets and stared at herself in the mirror. She had to admit, Yuna had good taste. The patterns and cuts highlighted her body in ways she’d never seen before. Admiring the fit, she nearly jumped when the curtain rustled behind her.

“Relax, unnie, it’s just me.” Yuna stepped in, unbothered by Yeji's modesty. Her eyes swept over the outfit. “Wow, you look hot. Y/N’s going to devour you.”

Yeji rolled her eyes, blushing furiously. Before she could say anything, Yuna gave her a playful smack on the butt, laughing as Yeji froze, mortified.

After the awkward but successful trip to the changing rooms, they made their way to checkout. The line stretched on forever, adding to Yeji's growing anxiety. The longer they stood, the more she feared being recognized.

Finally, at the register, the cashier greeted them. “Did you find everything okay?” she asked, scanning item after item. Then, her eyes widened as she took in the two idols.

“Wait... are you Yeji from Itzy?”

Yeji's heart sank as she instinctively looked down, trying to hide behind her mask. It was no use, the girl behind the counter already saw her eyes, they were the most recognizable feature of hers

“And Yuna! Oh my gosh, I love you guys!” The cashier’s excitement made Yeji cringe as she realized just what was being scanned. With each passing moment the cashier face turned from excitement to shy and red, almost not looking at her idols as she placed each item into a bag. The awkward silence stretched on as Yeji hastily paid, and they hurried out of the store.

Once outside, Yeji groaned. “Ugh, that was so embarrassing. Did you see her face? She probably thinks we’re buying this for a... date night or something.”

Yuna laughed. “Unnie, who cares? We’re adults, we’re allowed to wear nice things. If people can’t handle that, that’s on them.”

Yeji dragged her feet, understanding but still feeling flustered. They continued shopping for regular items—clothes, makeup—before heading back to the car. As they loaded up their bags, Yeji’s eyes widened in sudden realization.

“Condoms,” she blurted out. “We forgot condoms.”

Yuna blinked, confused. “Unnie, just take a pill. It’s better without the rubber, trust me. You should feel the real thing for your first time..”

Yeji shook her head. “No, Yuna. I agreed with everything today, but this is where I put my foot down. We need condoms.”

Yuna groaned but relented. “Fine, there’s a pharmacy nearby. Go get them, I’ll wait in the car.” She pulled out her phone, but when Yeji hesitated, nervously fidgeting, Yuna narrowed her eyes. “Wait... why aren’t you going?”

“I just... Can you get them for me?” Yeji begged, her voice barely above a whisper. “Please? You know more about this stuff than I do.”

Yuna sighed, sounding exasperated. “Fine. What size?” she asked, glancing at Yeji expectantly. But the silence stretched on, making Yuna narrow her eyes.

“Have you ever even seen his dick before?” Yuna asked, her tone teasing but sharp.

Yeji stammered, recalling the one time she accidentally walked in on Y/N in the bathroom. “Uh, I’m not sure what the packaging size would be, but it was... about this big,” she said, awkwardly gesturing with her hands.

Yuna’s eyes widened as Yeji’s hands kept moving farther apart, ending in a size that made Yuna swallow hard.

“Unnie, are you sure? Maybe you misremembered. That’s... pretty big.”

Yeji frowned, her face flushed with embarrassment. “No, I’m sure.”

Yuna blinked, her face heating up as she tried to process what she just heard. “O-okay. I’ll get them,” she stammered, hurriedly getting out of the car, her mind spinning. No way he’s that big... is he?

As she rushed away, a familiar, unsettling feeling bubbled up inside her. She didn’t want to admit it, but she knew why she was reacting this way. Ever since she started having sex, she had always been different—drawn to something specific. She had spent countless nights scouring the internet, reading article after article, trying to put a label on what she was feeling. And eventually, she found it.

She was a Size Queen.

Inside the pharmacy, Yuna scanned the aisles, finally locating the condoms. She eyed the options, landing on the larger sizes in the far corner, barely touched. Picking one up, she made her way to the counter, her pace quickening as her cheeks warmed.

"Why isn't there a self-checkout in this place?" she muttered under her breath, a flicker of frustration crossing her mind. This could’ve been done in seconds.

At the counter, the cashier, a woman in her thirties, gave her a knowing look as she bagged the item. Yuna avoided eye contact, mentally counting the seconds until she could leave.

“Have fun,” the cashier smirked, handing over the bag. Yuna tapped her card quickly, face red, before bolting back to the car.

She made her way back to Yeji, before they drove off back to the dorm. She got dropped off with the bags, Yeji saying that she will just return the car to her boyfriend, and she will find a way home. She thanked Yuna for everything before leaving.

The maknae couldn't shake off her feelings as she made her way inside. Dropping Yeji’s bags in her room, she quickly went back into the comforts of her own room, breezing past the other members saying she was tired from shopping. She got on her mattress before leaning to the edge, almost upside down as she reached for a box under her bed. It was a blacked out shoe box making it blend under the bed, hidden from anyone who quickly checks. She opened it before grabbing her trusted toy.

As she lay back, memories of Yeji’s gesture kept flashing in her mind, along with brief, stolen glances of Y/N. Her thoughts drifted, and before she knew it, the toy felt... inadequate.

She stared at it, comparing it to what Yeji had shown her. No way... she thought, feeling her body react in a way she hadn’t expected. Could he really be that big? She didn't believe that he would be bigger than her toy, the only reason she bought it was because it towered over the guys she had.

Yuna didn’t notice it at first, but just the thought of Yeji’s boyfriend being that well-endowed had her body reacting in ways she couldn’t control. She was dripping, even more than when she had been using her toy. Realizing where her thoughts had drifted, she quickly cleared them. You shouldn't be fantasizing about your leader’s boyfriend, Yuna. Shaking her head, she pushed those ideas away.

Luckily, she didn’t have to distract herself for long, as she heard the front door open. Yeji’s voice floated into the room, cheerful and light as she chatted with the other members.

"He's so too cute. After I returned his car, I told him I'd take a taxi here, but he dropped everything and insisted on driving me himself," Yeji shared, a hint of amusement in her tone.

Chaeryeong let out a playful groan. "He’s so sweet, you’re lucky, unnie," she teased, causing everyone to laugh. "Ugh, when’s my moment to find a man?"

“Well, if you were not cooped up in your room all day maybe you would have found him by now” Ryujin countered, sticking out her tongue playfully

Yeji smiled, excusing herself and knocking softly on Yuna’s door. “I’m going to my room to plan. Come over when you’re ready.”

Yuna sighed, placing her toy back into its hiding spot. She straightened herself before making her way to Yeji’s room. Inside, Yeji sat on the bed, her phone out, clearly ready to take notes.

“So, in two days I’m going over to his place,” Yeji said, a little nervous. “What then? Do I just, like, ask him to have sex?”

Yuna couldn’t help but laugh at her leader’s naivety. She shook her head, sitting next to Yeji. “No, unnie. You’ve got to set the mood.” She grinned and launched into her plan.

“Here’s what you’re going to do. You’ll meet him at his house in the evening, maybe watch a romantic movie. Something to get him in the mood. While you’re cuddling, keep physical contact the whole time.” Yeji nodded eagerly, typing this into her phone.

“Then,” Yuna continued, “you excuse yourself to the bathroom and put on the lingerie we bought today. When you come out, stand in front of him, blocking the TV. Let him get a full look at you. He’ll be shocked—guaranteed. You’re going to climb right on top of him. Confidence is key. If you're correct about his feelings then he won’t be able to resist.”

Yeji’s heart raced as Yuna painted the scene. It was vivid, making the older girl feel both excited and nervous.

“After that, you start kissing him,” Yuna went on, her voice growing softer. “Neck, lips, chest—anywhere you can. Then it’s your choice whether you want to move to the bedroom or keep going on the couch.”

Yeji’s eyes were wide, staring as Yuna’s voice trembled a little, but the maknae kept going, almost in a trance.

“Let him peel off your clothes,” Yuna whispered. “His hands will feel electric, especially since it’s your first time. And then, you can start by either... sucking his cock… his big.. fat… cock… feeling him stretch out your jaw as you take him deeper and deeper until you gag...or-or letting him eat you out, his tongue reaching the deepest depths of you, flicking over your clit until you cum straight into his mouth as he eagerly swallows your juices letting him show you how hungry he is. Then—”

“Yuna?” Yeji interrupted, eyes wide with red cheeks. “You can stop. I-I think I get the idea.”

Yuna blinked, her face flushing red as she realized how detailed she’d gotten. “R-right! That’s all. Just... have fun... d-do what feels natural” she stammered, standing up quickly and practically bolting to the door, leaving a bewildered Yeji behind.

Shaking her head, Yeji decided to unpack the shopping bags from earlier, laying out the clothes on her bed. As tried to make space she picked up a shirt Yuna had been sitting on, her fingers brushed against something damp.

“What the—?” Yeji frowned, looking closer at the fabric. The patch was wet, darker than the rest of the shirt. Confused, she glanced at her comforter and found a similar damp spot soaking through the material.

Her eyes widened. “How did that get there?”

-----

Yeji’s heart raced as she finally stepped into Y/N’s apartment. The night she had meticulously planned for was finally here. Every detail had been carefully thought out—from the lingerie she wore under her clothes to the small duffel bag packed extra clothes. This was it. After almost a year with her boyfriend, she was ready to lose her virginity, and she was determined to make the night perfect.

But her confident smile faltered the moment she entered the apartment. Standing there, much to her shock, was Y/N’s mother, greeting her with a wide grin. Before Yeji could fully process the situation, she was pulled into a warm hug.

“Oh, Yeji! It’s been so long! My, you just get prettier every time I see you. Don’t you agree, Y/N?” she gushed, oblivious to the tension quickly building in the air.

Y/N shot Yeji an apologetic look, silently conveying that he had no idea his mother would be visiting tonight. Yeji’s heart sank, her grand plans for the evening dissolving before her eyes.

Instead of the romantic night she envisioned, the three of them ended up having dinner together. Y/N’s mother dominated the conversation, sharing stories and asking questions. Yeji did her best to remain polite, nodding and laughing at the right moments, but inside, she was simmering with frustration. This was supposed to be her night. She and Y/N barely ever had time alone, given her demanding idol schedule, and now it felt like it was slipping away.

After dinner, Y/N’s mother excused herself to the guest room for the night. Yeji forced a smile but mentally pouted, knowing her seduction plans would now have to be postponed.

“So,” she asked, trying to keep her tone light as Y/N sat next to her, “what time is your mom leaving tomorrow?”

Y/N sighed, sensing her disappointment. “She mentioned leaving in the afternoon,” he said.

Yeji’s mind raced. She didn’t want to waste this rare opportunity. An idea flashed in her mind she remember that all of her members would be away from the dorm tonight, and a mischievous grin spread across her face. “Actually,” she began, “I forgot something back at the dorm. I was planning to use it tonight.” She gave him a playful look. “Do you mind coming with me to get it?”

Y/N hesitated, thinking for a moment and although he was a bit confused, he trusted her. “Sure,” he finally said, “let’s go.”

As they drove to the dorm, Yeji’s excitement bubbled beneath the surface. Her plan was still on, and she could hardly wait to make it happen. As soon as they arrived, she wasted no time, pulling Y/N straight to her room.

Inside, without saying a word, Yeji started undressing, revealing the sexy lingerie she had bought just for this night. Y/N stood frozen, his eyes widening as he took in the sight of his girlfriend in the daring outfit. She looked stunning, and the air between them crackled with anticipation.

Yeji walked over to him with purpose, placing her hands gently on his chest. Her heart was pounding, but she leaned in close, her lips brushing his in a slow, deep kiss that set the stage for everything that was about to come.

They made out passionately, soft sounds of kissing and heavy breathing filling the room. Yeji guided Y/N to sit on the edge of her bed before kneeling down in front of him. She reached out to unzip his pants, freeing his hardening cock. It smacked her on the face and she smiled. She did remember correctly

Yeji and Y/N continued their passionate foreplay, his cock throbbing in her hand as she stroked him. Y/N then reached for the box of condoms that he spotted beside her bed, Yeji snatched it from his hands and held it in hers before remembering what Yuna said, the lust was making decisions for her now as she tossed it behind her as she looked up at him with hunger filled eyes, biting her lower lip seductively. "I'm ready Y/N, let's do it," she breathed.

Y/N's heart raced as he forced a kiss between them while laying her on the bed and positioned himself between her spread legs. He teased her entrance with the tip of his cock, both of them shuddering at the contact. Y/N gazed down at Yeji, drinking in the sight of her flushed face, parted lips, and heaving chest. Her dark eyes locked with his, stormy with lust and anticipation. "Its time Y/N, make me yours," she whimpered

Yeji yelped as a sharp pain radiated from between her legs. Her plush bottom was being pressed down to the bed as Y/N's girthy shaft stretched her untried walls, burying itself half way. "Aaaah!" she cried out, eyes wide and unseeing, she felt a tear and her face contorted in a rictus of mixed agony and ecstasy.

The breath left her lungs in a whoosh as he bottomed out, his pelvis flush against her tender folds. Yeji could feel every thick, pulsing inch of him throbbing deep inside her formerly untouched core. It felt like he was rearranging her guts, reshaping her innocence into his own perfect sheath with his invasive hardness.

"Y/N," she whimpered pitifully, voice wavering with virgin trepidation. Her hands scrabbled at his broad shoulders as he loomed over her, breath hot against her face.

"Fuck," his guttural groan washed over her in a wave of raw masculine desire. "You're so tight..." He gritted the words through clenched teeth, battling back the urge to rut into her slick heat like a beast in heat. Yeji shivered at the primal nature of his tone, knowing she would be utterly ruined by his lust soon enough.

Yeji whimpered, trying to adjust to the feeling of being so incredibly full. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as Y/N slowly began to move, his thick cock stretching her untouched walls with each gentle thrust. The pain mixed with pleasure was overwhelming, making her dizzy.

"Shit, Y/N, stop please! Ugh, you're so big!" She gasped out, her nails digging into the sheets. The burning sensation of her innocence being taken made her wince with each twist of Y/N's hips.

Y/N groaned at the pressure, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he struggled to stay put. He could feel every flutter of her walls around him, hugging his cock like a vice. Her untouched pussy felt like heaven, so tight and wet around him.

Yeji's hands clawed at the sheets, twisting them into her fist as Y/N was still inside her, not moving at all. "Nnngh... Y/N... It feels strange... I'm stuffed so full of you..." She panted brokenly, her hips starting rolling to meet his own. Using that as a sign Y/N slowly started moving his hips. The wet sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room.

Yeji let out a high-pitched moan as Y/N's thick cock hit a particularly sensitive spot inside her. "A-Ah! There! Please Y/N, right there Ffuuuck!" Her whole body jolted, pussy clenching down on him as he stirred up her inner walls.

Y/N cursed under his breath, Yeji’s needy cries driving him wild with lust. He picked up the pace, snapping his hips faster testing the waters. "Yeji, you take my cock so well baby, your pussy feels incredible. You like this don't you?"

"Yes, yes I love it! It's so good, don't stop!" Yeji keened, back arching off the bed. Her breasts bounced with each rough thrust . Y/N latched onto one of her stiff nipples, sucking hard enough for the suction to lift up her chest as he pulled away.

Yeji yelped, the mix of pleasure and pain making her dizzy. She could feel herself rapidly approaching her peak, her untouched body overwhelmed by the intense sensations. "I-I'm gonna cum Y/N! Make me cum on your cock!"

Y/N growled possessively, doubling his efforts. He pounded into her sopping cunt, stirring up her cervix with the thick head of his cock.

"Ahhhnnng fuuuuck!" Yeji threw her head back, a silent scream on her lips as her orgasm crashed through her. Her velvety walls rippled around Y/N's length, milking him for all he was worth. Clear juices mixed with blood gushed out around his pistoning cock, soaking the sheets beneath them.

But just one thin wall away, unbeknownst to them, the youngest was in her room. Earlier at the bar, she hadn’t felt motivated to hook up with a random person, so she decided to call it an early night.

And now Yuna could hear everything—the sounds of Yeji’s breathy moans and gasps filtering through the thin walls like a forbidden melody. Her heart raced as she pressed herself against the barrier, each noise heightening the fire simmering inside her.

Without hesitation, Yuna grabbed her toy, her fingers trembling slightly as she brought it close. It apparently wasn’t as big as Y/N, but as she squeezed it in her hand, she let her imagination come through. Her hand hovered near the waistband of her silky shorts, her body alive with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. Every moan from her unnie acted like a cue, guiding her deeper into her own mounting arousal.

As Yeji’s cries escalated, Yuna’s breath quickened, her face flushing as she slid the toy down, pushing it past her shorts. The rhythmic thudding of the headboard sent jolts of heat through her core, and Yuna pressed the toy against her slick entrance, biting her lip to keep from moaning. She thrust it inside slowly, her body tingling at the sensation, trying to imagine it was Y/N’s thick cock stretching her instead.

Her hips began to rock instinctively, the toy sliding in and out as her mind blurred with fantasy. Sweat beaded on her forehead, and her pulse raced, matching the frenzied sounds from the next room. Every moan, every gasp from Yeji fueled her desire, the toy pumping inside her as her fingers moved to tease her clit, intensifying the sparks of pleasure shooting through her body.

Yuna could barely hold herself together, her breath hitching with each thrust as the heat inside her built to an unbearable level. Her hand tightened around the toy, her hips moving faster, grinding against it, desperate to chase the release she could feel rising.

Then, with a sharp gasp, a guttural moan ripped from her throat as her body tensed, the dam of pleasure finally breaking. A powerful wave of bliss crashed over her, sending shockwaves of electricity through her limbs. She trembled violently, her climax rolling over her in wave after wave until she finally collapsed, breathless, flushed, and utterly spent. Still listening to the massacre that's happening next door Yuna laid there, panting, her mind still buzzing from the intensity of her orgasm.

Meanwhile, in Yeji’s room, the couple was lost in their own world of passion spurred on by Yeji's pleasured cries. They had switched positions as per Yeji’s request, she was now on her knees, her hands gripping on the headboard as Y/n was slamming into her from behind "Harder Y/N, don't hold back!" she urged all the pent up frustration is now being aired out, and he complied with fervor, giving her everything he had, the bed creaking beneath them.

The bed frame creaked in protest as Y/N pounded into Yeji's dripping pussy. Her screams of ecstasy echoed through the "empty" dorm, mixing with the obscene sounds of flesh slapping against flesh. "Y/N, it feels so good! I'm about to cum again" Yeji cried out, her walls clenching around his thick cock like a vice.

Y/N felt her body spasm beneath him, her inner muscles milking his shaft as she came hard. "Fuck Y/N, I'm cumming! Oh shit!" Yeji practically screamed, her eyes rolling back in pure bliss.

Feeling his own climax approaching, Y/N slammed into her one last time before spilling his hot seed deep inside her hungry cunt. They collapsed together, sweaty and panting. Y/N slowly and carefully pulled out of Yeji, hissing at the sensitivity. She whimpered softly, feeling empty without him inside her. A rivulet of blood and cum dripped down her thigh, evidence of her loss innocence.

Y/N reached over the side of the bed, fishing around in his coat pocket. He pulled out a packet of wet wipes, tearing it open. Yeji watched through half-lidded eyes as he kneeled between her splayed thighs.

"Let me clean you up, baby." Y/N cooed softly, gently wiping away the proof of their union. He carefully swiped at her puffy folds, cleaning up the blood and cum. "You took my cock so well... I made a mess of your perfect little pussy, didn't I?"

Yeji gasped as he tenderly wiped at her sensitive slit, his touch gentle and loving. She squirmed at the sensation, pussy clenching down on nothing. "Mmm... It's sore... But it felt really good, Y/N. I love you so much and I'm so glad it was you who took it.

He smiled and brought her into a kiss as they now cuddled. Yeji, basking in the afterglow of her first time, smiled softly to herself. It hadn’t started off perfectly as planned, but losing her virginity to Y/N had been everything she could have hoped for. Her heart swelled with love and gratitude as they lay together, her fingers tracing lazy patterns across his chest.

What Yeji didn’t know was that their intimate moment had an unintended witness. Yuna, still pressed against the wall, was coming down from another one of her climaxes, her breath finally slowing as her hand slid away from her body. Her face flushed with a mixture of shame and satisfaction. Stepping away from the wall and leaving her unnie to bask in her newfound status as a woman.

As Yuna stood and composed herself, her eyes caught the desk across the room, staring at the handles, her mind racing. Slowly, a twisted smile curled at the corner of her lips, her thoughts taking shape. She knew her unnie very well and now.

An idea had sparked—one that could change everything.

-----

When Yeji awoke, the first thing she felt was his hardness still buried deep inside her. A delicious weight pressed against her pelvis, stretching her walls in the most pleasurable way. Confusion swirled in her mind, then clarity washed over her as yesterday night's events came flooding back. She distinctly remembered shoving Y/N's cock inside her while he was asleep before drifting off, herself, wanting to feel him there for as long as possible.

Needing to get up, she got off her lover with a groan, her body aching in ways she hadn’t anticipated. Her legs felt heavy, sore, and she could barely walk without wincing. Each step reminded her of the night before—the pleasure, the intensity, and the way Y/N had taken her so completely. A slight blush spread across her face as she remembered how he had unloaded inside her so deep she could practically taste it..

But as quickly as it came thought now sent a ripple of concern through her. As much as she loved what had happened, she wasn’t ready for the consequences. Panic crept in as she realized she needed to do something, and fast. That’s when it hit her—there was only one person who might have what she needed.

Yuna.

Barely managing to stand, Yeji put on one of her stolen Y/N's hoodies that fell to her thighs and dragged herself down to the closest room and knocked on Yuna’s door hoping she was there. It swung open, too fast, almost like she was expecting her arrival. Her expression was casual.

“Unnie? What are you doing here so early?” Yuna asked, her voice light and playful, as though the night’s events hadn’t left her affected at all.

Yeji swallowed hard, her cheeks flushing. “I... um... I need something from you.”

Yuna raised an eyebrow, playing innocent. “Oh? What’s that?”

“A morning-after pill,” Yeji whispered, barely able to meet her eyes.

Yuna didn’t flinch, but there was a flicker of something unreadable in her gaze. Without a word, she turned toward her desk, opening the drawer and pulling out a small bottle. She shook out a single pill, then turned to hand it to Yeji.

Grateful, Yeji smiled but just as she reached for it, Yuna’s hand pulled back, her lips curling into a sly smile. “You can have it...” she paused, her voice lowering. “In exchange for Y/N.”

Yeji’s eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat as the weight of Yuna’s words settled between them, leaving her frozen in place.

The pill dangled between Yuna’s fingers, tantalizingly close. But the price...

Yeji stood frozen, her mind racing as Yuna’s words echoed in her head. The playful expression on Yuna’s face didn’t match the seriousness of the offer, sending chills down Yeji’s spine. She tried to process what was happening, her eyes locked on the pill in Yuna’s hand, but her heart was pounding for a different reason now.

“In exchange for Y/N?” Yeji whispered, her voice shaky. “What are you talking about?”

Yuna’s smile grew, a knowing look flashing across her face. “Oh, come on, unnie. You know what I mean. You had your fun with him, but... I want my turn.” She took a small step forward, closing the distance between them, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “Give him to me, just once. Then, you can have this.” She twirled the pill between her fingers before slipping it back into the bottle, her eyes never leaving Yeji’s.

Yeji's heart raced, a mixture of disbelief and anger building inside her. “Yuna, that’s insane! You can’t be serious. He’s my boyfriend.”

“I know,” Yuna replied, her tone still maddeningly calm. “But... you don’t have to worry, I won’t take him from you forever—just for one night. I know you don’t want... complications, unnie.” She gestured toward the pill bottle, the unspoken threat hanging in the air between them.

Yeji’s body trembled with frustration and fear. The soreness from the night before was a constant reminder of the passion she and Y/N had shared, and the thought of Yuna being anywhere near him made her stomach twist. But the consequences of not taking the pill loomed large, making her head spin.

“What if I say no?” Yeji finally managed to ask, her voice small, barely holding together.

Yuna’s smile faded slightly, replaced by a cold, calculating gaze. “Then I guess you’ll just have to deal with whatever comes next.” She shrugged as if the matter didn’t concern her, turning her back to Yeji and heading toward her desk.

Yeji's eyes darted to the pill bottle, her mind racing. She knew what was at stake, the fear of an unplanned complication gnawing at her insides. But then Yuna’s voice came again, cutting through the tense silence with deceptive ease.

“You know,” Yuna said, pausing as if this were an afterthought, “the pill might not even work if you don’t take it within 12 hours. You’ve already passed that window.”

Yeji froze, her heart skipping a beat. “Twelve hours?” Her voice wavered, barely a whisper. Her eyes widened as dread washed over her, the information hitting her like a physical blow. Inexperienced and overwhelmed, she tried to steady her breath, but it came out in shallow, uneven bursts.

Yuna’s smirk grew, predatory in its subtlety. “Yeah. So... it’s up to you what you want to risk.” Her words dripped with quiet satisfaction, knowing exactly what they were doing to Yeji.

But the truth was, Yuna was lying, and Yeji had no idea. The pill was still effective within 72 hours, but Yuna was deliberately sowing seeds of panic, feeding Yeji false information to manipulate her. Every word Yuna spoke was calculated, a cold weapon designed to break Yeji down in her most vulnerable state.

Yeji’s head spun, the lie twisting around her like a suffocating vine, leaving her feeling trapped, desperate, and utterly powerless.

Yeji’s thoughts were a chaotic blur—she couldn’t believe Yuna had the nerve to suggest something so twisted. But time was slipping away, and every second that passed felt like it was pushing her closer to a breaking point. She could walk away, but what would that mean for her future? Her career? Her life with Y/N?

The silence in the room felt suffocating as Yuna sat down, shaking the pill bottle with a smug grin, eyes gleaming with wicked intent. “Tick tock, unnie. What’s it going to be?”

Yeji swallowed hard, her mouth dry, heart pounding as she stood there, torn between protecting her relationship and the fear gnawing at her insides. The pill bottle seemed to mock her, a constant reminder of the impossible choice that weighed on her heart.

And then, in the silence of the room, Yeji made her choice. Without another word, she stepped forward and reached for the bottle sealing her fate.

#girl group smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #kpop fanfiction #male reader #reader insert #itzy smut #shin yuna #shin yuna smut #yuna smut #hwang yeji #hwang yeji smut #yeji smut #yeji x male reader #yuna x reader #yeji x reader #yuna x male reader

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levisjinchuriki · 2 months ago

Text

helping hand — yuji itadori

summary: you accidentally send nudes to your best friend. good thing he doesn't mind

warning: nsfw, nudes, cursing, flirting, handjob, blowjob, cum, begging, p in v, afab reader, shy yuji, bff!yuji, all characters are of age!!

you feel confident as you gaze at yourself in the mirror, the new set you bought yourself fitting perfectly. nobara was right when she said the color would look great on you.

you grab your phone, snapping a few pictures in the mirror to show your friend how right she was. it’s nothing too scandalous, other than you being almost naked. after selecting the most flattering images you hit send.

as you get ready for bed your phone buzzes loudly. you ignore it at first, but then, it buzzes again. and again. finally, the buzzing stops, only for your phone to start ringing almost immediately. you grab the phone, answering it without thinking.

“hey, what’s up?” you ask casually, holding it to your ear.

there’s a brief silence on the other end. you furrow your brows, about to call out nobara’s name before you’re interrupted.

“uh… did you mean to send that to me?”. yuji’s voice is filled with nerves.

“what?” you ask confused.

“the pictures” yuji clarifies, a mix of laughter and awkwardness in his tone. “you just sent me, um… nudes?”. the blood drains from your face as you process his words. your heart skips a beat, and you immediately pull the phone away from your ear, opening your messages to confirm if what he says is true. and there it is- clear as day. the photos you meant to send to nobara had gone straight to yuji.

“oh my god” you breathe, eyes wide with horror. your body heats up with embarrassment, phone nearly slipping from your hands as you press it back to your ear.

“yuji, i’m so, so sorry” you stammer, panicked. “that was not meant for you! oh my god, please just delete them!”.

yuji chuckles awkwardly, his voice lighthearted but still a little flustered. “i kinda figured that wasn’t for me. but, don’t freak out. i’m deleting them right now” he assures you.

you pace the room, feeling the embarrassment rising with every second. you cover your face with one hand, groaning into the phone. “i can’t believe this is happening”.

yuji’s voice, always so familiar and comforting, somehow manages to calm you just a little. “seriously, don’t worry. it’s not a big deal. i didn’t even really look—well, okay, i glanced—but it’s all good! they’re deleted, i swear”.

your cheeks continue to burn. “you glanced? yuji!”.

“i mean, how could i not? you sent them to me!” he protests, still laughing a little.

you sigh, sitting down on the edge of your bed, still holding your phone to your ear. “this is mortifying”.

he chuckles again, and you can practically picture him rubbing the back of his neck, the way he does when he’s embarrassed. “hey, if it makes you feel any better, you look great. like, really great.”

your face burns with a fresh wave of embarrassment. “yuji!” you whine, unable to help yourself.

“i’m just saying! it’s a compliment!” he pauses for a second, his tone softening. “but really, don’t stress. it’s just me. we’re cool, right?”

you take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing heart. of course, it had to be yuji, of all people—your best friend, the one person you trusted the most.

after a long moment, you manage to laugh, the tension starting to ease. “yeah, we’re cool. but seriously, never bring this up again”.

“deal” yuji replies, and you can hear the grin in his voice. “but if you ever need someone to, you know, double-check your photos before you send them—”

“yuji!”.

his laughter fills the line as you groan again, burying your face in your hands. despite the lingering embarrassment, you can’t help but smile. only yuji could turn an accidental nude into something this lighthearted. you feel a small smile tug at your lips. yuji always knew how to make you feel better—how to keep things light without making you feel uncomfortable. there’s a reason why you trust him so much, even now, after what might be the most awkward mistake of your life. even though this is embarrassing, you’re just grateful that it was yuji who received the photos and not someone else. he’s handling it better than anyone could—making you laugh even in this embarrassing moment. but it’s still hard to shake the awkwardness as you cradle the phone to your ear.

“thanks for not being weird about this” you say, finally starting to relax.

“of course” he says. after a moment he adds, “if it helps, it’s not like i’m complaining. you’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about”.

you feel your cheeks heat up again, but there’s something in his tone—something more genuine beneath the teasing. you’re used to his lighthearted comments, but this feels…different.

“well, i’m glad you’re not too traumatized,” you joke.

“traumatized? not exactly the word i’d use” he says with a grin in his voice, but then his tone softens again. “but i mean it. you don’t have to be so hard on yourself. accidents happen, and honestly, you’re…you’re beautiful. so no shame in that, right?”.

you blink, surprised at how tender his words are. you’d expected more teasing, but this sudden sincerity throws you off. there’s a moment of silence, the weight of his compliment hanging between you.

he clears his throat, his usual playful demeanor slipping back in. “anyway! now that we’ve had this totally normal conversation, how about we move on from this little mishap? you know, before you die of embarrassment”.

you let out a small laugh, grateful that he’s easing the tension. “yeah, i think that’s best”.

“good” he says. “now, i’m thinking we go back to pretending i’ve never seen you naked and everything is normal. deal?”.

you can’t help but smile, feeling a wave of relief. “deal”.

after you hang up, you lay back on your bed, staring at the ceiling. despite the initial panic, everything turned out okay. yuji—being yuji—handled it the best way anyone could. you can’t help but smile to yourself, feeling grateful for his easy going nature and how he never lets anything get too heavy. even in a situation like this, he makes you feel comfortable.

your phone stays in your hand, vibrating with the weight of yuji’s words, and for a moment, you feel almost breathless. it’s not that he’s never complimented you before—yuji was always the type to lift your spirits with a well-timed joke or a playful remark—but this feels different. more vulnerable, more raw. the sincerity of his compliment lingers in your mind, and you find yourself repeating it.

a few minutes later, there’s a knock at your door. your heart jumps in your chest, and for a second, you wonder if it could be yuji. the thought alone excites you, but surely he wouldn’t…

you pull yourself off the bed, crossing the room and opening the door. yuji stands in front of you, his cheeks flushed and his expression sheepish. the moment your eyes meet his, you can tell something’s off. his gaze shifts awkwardly, his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his pajama pants. he fidgets in place, clearly nervous about something.

“yuji?” you ask, eyebrows raised in surprise.

he looks up at you, rubbing the back of his neck. “i, uh…” he pauses, his cheeks growing impossibly red. “i didn’t know what else to do, so… i came over.”

your confusion deepens, but there’s an underlying tension in his posture that makes your stomach flip. “what’s going on?”

yuji takes a deep breath, looking down at his feet before glancing back up at you with a soft, almost apologetic expression. “i, um… i couldn’t stop thinking about you. and, uh…” he shifts uncomfortably again, clearly struggling to find the words.

“…and?” you prompt gently, curious yet unsure where this is leading.

yuji meets your eyes, a mixture of embarrassment and desire flickering in his gaze. “i… i’m hard” he admits, voice quiet. his hand moves subtly to adjust himself through his pants. “it won’t go away and… i didn’t know what to do”.

your breath catches at his confession, heat pooling in your stomach as the weight of the situation settles between you. the idea of yuji, your best friend, getting worked up over your pictures is something you hadn’t prepared for, but now that you know, it ignites something within you.

for a moment, neither of you says anything, the air thick with unspoken tension. yuji looks like he’s caught between wanting to hide and wanting to act on whatever is brewing inside him, and you’re not entirely sure how to handle the sudden shift in your dynamic.

without thinking, you take a step back, letting the door swing open wider. “do you want to come in?” you ask, your voice softer now, laced with anticipation. yuji hesitates only for a second before nodding. he steps inside, the door closing behind him with a soft click. the air between you is charged with an electricity you’ve never felt before—something that’s been simmering beneath the surface for a while, finally bubbling to the top.

“yuji…” you say softly, reaching out to touch his arm. his muscles tense under your fingers, and you feel the warmth radiating off him. “you could’ve just said something. you didn’t have to come all the way over”. you look up into his eyes, searching for any hesitation, but all you see is desire—raw and unfiltered.

you hold his hand, leading him towards your bed, and yuji follows, his eyes never leaving you. the shirt you’re wearing just barely covers your bottom. when you sit down on the edge, he stands in front of you, towering slightly as he looks down at you, his breath coming in shallow bursts.

your gaze drops to the obvious bulge straining against his pants. he looks uncomfortably hard and you coo at him. you reach up, fingers curling around the waistband of his pants and pulling it towards you.

“can i?” you ask as you look up at him.

yuji’s breath hitches as you pull him closer, guiding him between your legs. he stands there for a moment, watching your every move, his eyes filled with a mix of nervous excitement and anticipation.

“y-yeah” yuji’s pupils are blown out as he nods. you can feel the tension vibrating between you as your hands slide from his waist down to his hips, fingers brushing against the front of his pants.

he lets out a quiet groan as your palm grazes over his bulge, the heat of his body radiating through the fabric. you look up at him, your heart racing as you take in the sight of him standing above you, flushed and breathing heavily.

as you tug his pants down slightly you hear him let out another shaky breath. yuji swallows hard, his hands twitching at his sides. you can see his restraint, the way he’s holding himself back, unsure of how to act, but you can also see the raw desire in his eyes.

his cock springs free once you let his pajamas fall. he’s not wearing any underwear, the sight of his flesh surprising you for a moment. you take time admiring his member, tip already leaking, before you wrap your hand around his head.

yuji gasps at the contact, his hips jerking forward involuntarily. his erection is hard and throbbing in your hand, and you can feel just how much he’s been holding back. you stroke him slowly, savoring the way his body reacts to your touch—his breathing growing shallow, his muscles tense, and his eyes squeezed shut.

“look at you” you whisper, your voice filled with a mix of awe and desire. “you’re all worked up…”. yuji bites his lip, holding in a moan. it’s embarrassing how turn on he is when you’ve just started.

you pump him a little faster now, watching his reactions, loving how vulnerable he looks right now—flushed and completely at your mercy.

“is this what you needed, yuji?” you ask, your voice soft but teasing.

he nods frantically, his breathing ragged as he looks down at you with wide, lust-filled eyes. “yes” he groans, his hips bucking slightly into your hand. “please… don’t stop” he begs.

your heart races at the way he’s looking at you, the desperation in his voice driving you to want to push him even further. your hand slides down further, pumping his full length. yuji lets out a whimper as his eyes flutter closed.

you take your time, pumping him for a moment longer before you let your tongue flick out, teasingly grazing the tip of his erection. he hisses at the feeling.

you let your tongue swirl around the tip before finally wrapping your lips around his tip, swirling your tongue around it slowly. yuji gasps, his body instinctively arching toward you as he chases the pleasure you’re giving him. the soft sounds of his breathless moans fill the room, pushing you to take him deeper.

“oh-fuck” he whispers as you slowly begin to bob your head up and down. you keep a firm grip on the base of his length, stroking him in rhythm with your mouth, ensuring every inch of him is getting the attention it deserves.

yuji lets out a low groan that sends shivers down your spine.

you look up at him, locking eyes as you pick up the pace, bobbing your head up and down while using your hand to stroke the base of his length. his eyes are glazed with desire, his breathing coming in quick bursts as he fights to hold back.

“that feels so good…” yuji breathes, his voice shaking with a mix of desire and urgency. he places his hands on your cheeks, letting you do all the work. the way he’s biting his lip, trying to suppress his moans only adds to your excitement, urging you to push him closer to the edge.

you look up at him through your lashes, watching the expression on his face as you take him deeper, hollowing your cheeks and swirling your tongue against the vein on the underside of his length. you can sense the tension building within him, the way he’s teetering on the edge of bliss, and it spurs you on even more.

he gasps, moaning your name, his voice hitching as he loses himself in the sensations. you pick up the pace, moving faster as you take him in, letting him feel every bit of the warmth and wetness of your mouth. you can feel his body tensing, the way his breath becomes erratic as you bring him to the edge.

“don’t stop” he pleads again, his voice strained and desperate. “please- i’m gonna cum”. his sentence is cut off by a low groan that rumbles deep in his chest as he loses control. you can feel him pulsing against your tongue, and before you know it, he’s spilling into your mouth with a broken cry, his hips bucking uncontrollably.

you swallow every drop, savoring the taste of him as you pull back slightly, leaving a few soft kisses along his length before finally releasing him. yuji watches you, a mix of disbelief and awe washing over his features as he tries to catch his breath.

“so pretty” he says as he strokes your cheek. a blush rises to your cheeks.

yuji leans down, his lips hovering just above yours before he finally closes the distance. his lips brush softly against yours, the kiss is gentle at first, a sweet exploration that sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach. his hand remains on your cheek, fingers gently caressing your skin as if he’s memorizing the feel of you. you melt against him, surrendering to the warmth and softness of the moment. his lips move in perfect harmony with yours.

yuji pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours, filled with a mix of admiration and something deeper. the blush on your cheeks deepens, feeling vulnerable under his gaze.

he leans in again, kissing you with a newfound urgency. in one fluid motion, yuji lifts you effortlessly, bringing you to the center of the bed as the heat between you intensifies. he leans into you until your back meets the mattress, his body pressing against yours, enveloping you in his warmth. you instinctively wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as a soft moan escapes your lips.

yuji’s hands roam over your thighs, exploring every curve, before slipping beneath your shirt. you shiver at the feeling of his fingers brushing against your skin, goosebumps rising in response to his touch. he smiles against your lips, the two of you losing yourselves in the bliss of the moment.

with a gentle tug, yuji pulls back slightly, lifting your shirt over your head. he gazes down at you in silence, his eyes filled with admiration as he takes in how perfectly your set fits you. his hands softly caress your chest, tracing the edges of your bra with a tenderness that makes your heart race.

a deep crimson flush creeps across your face, and you shift slightly beneath him, instinctively trying to hide yourself.

“don’t” he commands softly, his grip soft as he holds your wrists. he plants kisses on your shoulder and works his way up your neck. “you’re beautiful. always have been”.

your heart flutters as you lean into him, pressing your lips against his again. yuji laces his fingers with yours as he deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth. he moans, the sound low and needy, vibrating against your lips. your legs wrap around his waist as he grinds his length against you. the movement sending waves of pleasure coursing through you and making you whimper in desperate need of him.

the sound of your soft whimpers fuels him more. every thrust sends electric sensations spiraling through you, and you find yourself instinctively arching your back, urging him on. you crave more—more of him and more of this connection.

his lips find their way to your neck again as he starts to suck on the skin lightly. you instinctively arch your back, urging him on. you crave more—more of him, more of this intoxicating connection. his hands find their way to your hips, holding you steady as he continues to grind against you, each movement drawing you closer to the edge.

“yuji” you whine, feeling a desperate need to feel him fully.

when he finally pulls back, both of you are breathless. yuji looks down at you with half-lidded eyes, his lips swollen from the kiss. his eyes darken with lust as he meets your gaze, and he can’t help but smile at the effect he has on you. you can feel your pulse quickening in response to his gaze.

“i know, i know” he says. yuji explores every inch of you, his hands roaming across your skin as he finds all your sensitive spots. he takes his time making you feel good, drawing out your pleasure with deliberate movements.

yuji can’t believe it—his best friend underneath him, moaning his name over and over. the friend he’s had a crush on for years is now begging for his touch, and the reality of the moment sends his heart racing.

finally, after what feels like an eternity of teasing, he shifts his weight and starts to pull at your underwear. exhilaration courses through him as he watches you writhe beneath him, your eyes clouded with pleasure and desire.

it’s as if he’s dreaming, yet every sensation is achingly real—the way your body responds to him, the heat radiating between you, and the way you clutch at his shoulders, urging him to go deeper.

“is this okay?” he asks, needing your confirmation through the haze of lust. you nod, your breath hitching in your throat as you plead for more. it makes his chest tighten with emotion. it’s a moment he’s dreamed of for so long, and now that it’s happening, he wants to savor every second.

yuji aligns himself with your entrance. the moment you feel the tip of him pressing against you, a rush of need floods your senses. you hold onto his biceps, squeezing the muscles as he pushes into you slowly, giving you both time to adjust to the stretch.

“shit” he groans, his grip on your hips tightening as he buries himself deeper. the feeling of you around him is overwhelming, and it takes everything in him not to lose control right away. he watches you closely, wanting to savor every reaction, every little sigh that escapes you.

as he begins to move, his thrusts are slow and deliberate at first, letting you feel every inch of him as he pulls back and pushes forward. you sigh in pleasure as he fills you completely, encouraging him to go deeper.

yuji leans down, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, pouring every ounce of his longing and desire into it. the connection between you deepens, and he can feel the way your body responds to him, how your legs tighten around his waist, urging him to go faster, to give you what you need.

the heat between you intensifies, igniting a fire in his core as he picks up the pace, losing himself in the rhythm. with every thrust, he feels the world around you fade away, leaving only the two of you, wrapped in each other’s arms, driven by raw desire and unspoken affection.

your nails dig into his skin, urging him on as you cry out his name, the sound filling the room and echoing in his ears.

with each thrust, he feels a rush of exhilaration and a hint of possessiveness. in this moment you’re his, and he revels in the knowledge that you want him just as much as he wants you. he leans down, pressing kisses along your jawline, trailing them down to your collarbone, savoring the taste of you.

“please… don’t stop” you gasp, your voice breathless. the sight of you, so vulnerable and open, makes him want to worship every inch of you.

he picks up the pace, driven by the need to please you, each thrust growing more passionate and frantic as you both lose yourselves in the rhythm. every moan that spills from your lips only fuels his desire, pushing him to give you everything he has.

his heart swells with affection and longing as he watches you succumb to the pleasure he’s giving you. he can’t help but lean down to kiss you again, pouring every ounce of his feelings into it.

your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging him closer as you feel your high approach. you moan into his mouth, the sound mingling with his deep, guttural groans. yuji feels you tightening around him, a sign that you’re teetering on the edge, and it makes him ache to push you over that brink.

you share a breath as his lips hover over yours. his thrusts grow faster and more frantic as he feels you on the edge. you’re unable to form words as the blissful pressure builds in the pit of your stomach. your body trembles, toes curling as your orgasm takes over.

yuji watches in awe as you cry out, succumbing to the wave of pleasure. the sight of you lost in bliss pushes him to his own release. he groans as he quickly pulls out, shooting cum onto your stomach.

you both take a moment to catch your breath, the air thick with the afterglow of your shared intimacy. your bodies are still tangled together, chests rising and falling in unison as you try to steady your breathing. the silence between you feels comfortable, warm, and for a while, neither of you says a word.

then yuji, with a playful smirk tugging at his lips, breaks the silence.

“wanna try on another set for me?”.

a/n: i got carried away, hope you don't mind. please send requests in my inbox!!

creds: @elryisia

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littleredwolf · 8 months ago

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Hungry Eyes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: The team overhears Nat and Y/N's 'girl talk' through the comms and feelings surface as a result.

Warnings: Suggestive content. Sex references.

Words: 956

A/N: PART 2 CAN BE FOUND HERE

“Bucky's done nothing but undress you with his eyes since you walked in,” Natasha's husky voice came over your earpiece and your eyes snapped to the super soldier on the other side of the room, your cheeks reddening to find him already staring in your direction.

You let your gaze casually pass over him, playing the brief moment of eye contact off as a coincidence as you scanned the room for the mission, but your heart was pounding and you were sure he could probably hear it.

“Doubtful,” you scoffed, though you couldn't ignore the tingle that travelled up your spine at the thought of Bucky finding you attractive. You'd had the hots for him for months, but your fear of rejection strongly outweighed your desire to tell him so you'd kept your little secret to yourself…and Nat of course.

“Stop living in denial, anybody with half a brain can see how he practically drools over you every time he sees you,” Nat argued, and you rolled your eyes as you continued to survey the room. “Don’t roll your eyes at me, it’s true.”

“Stop watching me, you know it creeps me out when I can’t see you,” you hissed, eyes roaming the crowd in an attempt to spot the redhead.

“If you could see me, I wouldn’t be very good at my job,” she teased, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes again.

“Just hurry up and do your job, Romanoff - the quicker we finish and I can get out of this dress the better,” you stated, readjusting the silky garment that Natasha herself had picked out for you. It suited your cover well, but it was a little provocative for your usual tastes.

“I’m sure Barnes would agree with you on that one…”

“As much as I’m enjoying watching Bucky squirm from this conversation, head’s up that this is an open channel,” Sam’s voice cutting in over the comms caused any reply you had prepared for Natasha to die on your tongue, the blood draining from your face as you turned to look at Bucky.

The super soldier was no longer on his mark, but as you searched the crowd you caught a glimpse of him as he was making a swift exit. More than anything you wanted to follow him, to defuse the awkwardness and recover from the embarrassment of him overhearing Nat’s comments, but you stayed rooted to the spot, unable to leave your position.

“Go,” Nat urged, as though sensing your inner turmoil. “Me and Sam have got this.”

A quick look towards Sam confirmed that he agreed, and you wasted no time in hurrying towards the same door Bucky had gone through moments ago.

Surprisingly, he hadn’t gone very far, and you found him leaning against the wall in the foyer. Heat rushed to your cheeks as his eyes landed on you, and you smiled sheepishly as you approached.

“Hey Buck,” you softly said as you reached him. “Sorry about what you heard back there - Nat was just teasing, she didn’t mean any of it.”

“Didn’t she?” He asked, raising a single eyebrow.

“What?” You frowned, unsure how to interpret his response. There was a way you wanted this to go, but you didn’t want to get your wires crossed and make even more of a fool of yourself.

“You said she didn’t mean any of it, but how can you be sure?”

He pushed himself off the wall and fixed you with an intense gaze, making your knees weak and your breath short. You didn’t dare look away - afraid that if you did, this moment would end.

“I-uh…I don’t know what you’re getting at here, Buck…” you stammered, too dumbfounded to form a better response. You were very aware of how close the two of you were and the smell of his cologne and warmth emanating from his body was making your brain short circuit.

“Then let me show you.”

There was no hesitation as he took your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours, and you melted into him with a whimper. The sound gave him the encouragement he was looking for and he spun you round so that he could press you up against the wall, moaning into your mouth as you raked your hands through his hair.

Everything around you ceased to exist and all sense left you as you gave into your desires, the feeling of Bucky’s hands roaming your body setting your skin on fire. You couldn’t believe this was happening, you’d never even let yourself hope that Bucky might actually feel the same, yet here you were, making out with him while his sizable bulge pressed up against you.

Had Sam not cleared his throat over the comms, you were sure you’d have let the super soldier take you right there and then, regardless of the fact that you were in public and on a mission.

“Channel is still very much open, guys,” he informed, and Bucky’s eyes widened in horror as he pulled away. You giggled and gave him a quick peck on the lips.

“I’m not even sorry,” you told Sam teasingly, straightening up and readjusting your dress. You were aware of Bucky’s eyes on you and you looked up to meet his hungry gaze.

“I can’t wait to get that thing off you when we’re finished here,” he blurted, and you bit your lip as heat flooded your core.

“Then we’d better hurry up and finish,” you replied, taking him by the hand and leading him back to the main room so that you could get the mission, and later on your clothes, out of the way.

PART 2

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky x you #james buchanan barnes x reader #james bucky barnes x reader #mcu fanfiction #winter soldier x reader #bucky barnes x female character #bucky barnes x y/n #james bucky barnes x y/n #reader insert

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faithisyours · 4 months ago

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Can’t Imagine Losing You

Azriel x Fem!reader

Summary: Azriel’s been acting moody lately, and you've had enough.

Warnings: ANGST! but also fluff. Smut, smut, SMUT! possessive Az, whimpering whiny Az, sort of a switch dynamic between the two, P in V, coming inside, oral both receiving, some ass stuff, i think that's it, not proof read

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: Hey y’all! Sorry for being MIA. Here’s another fic as a peace offering. I wanted to try some angst so hopefully I did it right. This whole thing took so many turns. Hope it's comprehensible. If you have any requests for fics you'd like me to write, I'm all ears (i need ideas, please I’m begging). As always, minors go away. Majors, enjoy!

“I have some work I need to do at the House of Wind today. It shouldn't take long.”

You were sitting at the kitchen table eating breakfast, enjoying the warm summer breeze coming in through the open window when Azriel informed you he had to leave. You were disappointed, but not at all surprised. It seemed like there was always something to do, some report needing finished or some training schedule needing tweaked. And it was always your mate who needed to do it, especially on his off days, it seemed.

“Can you stay for breakfast at least?” you asked, infusing your words with hope to mask the disappointment.

“I’m sorry, my love, I can’t. I’ll see you later.” He pressed a swift kiss to the top of your head before practically running out the door. There was no, “I’ll make it up to you later,” or, “How about breakfast tomorrow?” or even an, “I love you,” before he had disappeared.

Instances like this had been happening more frequently over the past couple years, but recently it had gotten out of hand for you. You had been mated to Azriel for over a century at this point, and had known each other far longer than that. You originally assumed that these instances were caused by Azriel being distracted by his work. Being the spymaster for the Night Court was a lot to manage. But more recently you had begun to wonder if the spark had dimmed for Azriel. If he had started to feel differently than he had when you two were first mated.

You decided that tonight you would bring up your concerns with him. You prayed to the Mother it was only because he was so busy and not because he had begun to feel differently about being mated to you. For now, though, you finished your breakfast, put away the extra food you had made for Azriel, and got ready for your day.

Since Azriel wasn’t going to be home until later, you figured you could get some errands done while he was away. Azriel had been running low on his sleep tonic for a while now, so you decided to stop by your favorite apothecary and pick him up another one. While you were out, you figured you could stop by the market and get some more wine to replenish the stash you and the other ladies of the Inner Circle had drained not too long ago. You also picked up some ingredients you would need for dinner tonight.

It was nearing noon when you decided to head back home, but as you were making your way back, you passed the shop you had gotten your favorite lingerie set from. It couldn’t hurt, you thought, to go in and look around. It had been a while since you got a new set, and you thought you should treat yourself. If you found something you liked, of course. And as soon as you walked in, a rich purple satin set caught your attention. It was perfect; simple yet sexy, and looked rather comfortable as well. It had criss-cross straps that circled around the back and waist, to connect to the bottoms, which were detailed with black lace on the hips. You didn’t have a purple set yet, and you thought maybe Azriel would like it too. Maybe if things went well tonight you would let him see it.

You made your way home, purchases in hand, including that satin set, and hoped by the time you got there that Azriel would be home. But he wasn’t. You entered an empty home, warm yet breezy from the window you had left open, and started unloading your purchases. You put the wine on the rack, the ingredients for dinner on the kitchen table, and Azriel’s sleep tonic on his bedside table. Lastly, you fished that purple satin set out of its bag and tried it on.

You didn’t bother trying it on in the store because you already knew your measurements and didn’t want to bother anyone anyway. Just like you suspected, it was incredibly comfortable, and it fit you like a glove. Exhaustion washed over you then, even though it was a little past noon. Going out to run errands always seemed to suck the energy right out of you.

You didn’t bother taking off the set, but instead rifled through Az’s shirt drawer to find your favorite one of his, a flowy black cotton button down, and threw it on. Even though Az wasn’t here right now, you still wanted to feel close to him, hence the shirt. You curled yourself up on his side of the bed, enveloped in the comfort of his scent, and closed your eyes. The last thought you had before falling asleep was hoping this whole thing was a misunderstanding.

–

You awoke to the sound of a door slamming. You sat up, wiped the sleep from your eyes, and made your way towards the kitchen, the most likely source of the noise. You saw Azriel, leaning over the kitchen sink looking out the window. You glanced at the clock above the hearth, noting you had been asleep for about 4 hours.

“Hey Az,” you said groggily, “Sorry I didn’t meet you at the door, I was taking a nap. Did you just get home?” you asked, walking closer to him. He gave you a grunt in response. You noticed his shadows swirling agitatedly around him, making you stop in your tracks. “Az, are you okay? Did something happen?” A million thoughts cycled through your head in seconds. Did something happen at work? Are Cassian and Rhys okay? Is he mad at you? Did you forget something he asked you to get at the market?

“I’m fine. I don’t want to talk about it.” His answers were clipped, monotone. “I'll be in our room.” he pushed off from the sink and brushed right past you, not even bothering to look you in the eye, give you a kiss, or look even the slightest bit apologetic for his attitude.

“I got you more sleeping tonic. It’s on your bedside table,” you informed him. You got a closing bedroom door in response.

You had a lot of patience. You prided yourself on the amount of patience you had. But it was warring paper thin for your mate. You decided to make dinner to take your mind off it, and to hopefully give him time to calm down. It’s not like he’d never been moody before, but this was a little much. He was starting to act like a teenage son, not your mate.

–

Thirty minutes later dinner was done and on the table. You went over to your bedroom door, still closed, and knocked, then poked your head in.

“Dinner is done. I made one of your favorites,” you informed Azriel, who was just walking out of the connected bathing room when you had poked your head in. He had changed into something more comfortable since the last time you saw him.

“Be right out,” he responded, glancing at you as he said it.

You walked back out to the kitchen table and began to load up both your plates with food. Azriel joined you just as you sat down. He immediately started eating, seemingly not concerned that the food was still hot enough to burn his mouth. And it looked like you would be carrying the conversation this evening.

“Was everything alright at the House of Wind today?” you pried, hoping the question came off as inconspicuous.

“Everything is fine. It’s handled now,” he offered, still shoveling food into his mouth.

“Alright. Good. I just wanted to -”

He cut you off. “Can we just eat in silence please? It's been a long day.” The words were stern, but his tone was soft, tired. You paused at his words, letting them sink in. Maybe this was just a bad day for him. Maybe he would be better tomorrow. Maybe this conversation should wait, if he’s pretty tired already. But how long had this gone on? How long have you wanted to say something about it?

“No,” you said simply. He paused, a fork-full stopped midway between his plate and mouth. Finally, he looked at you. “No, we’re not going to sit in silence. I have something I want to talk about. And I realize you may have had a shitty day, but I also had a day. I did things I want to talk with you about. I’ve wanted to have a conversation with you since this morning. So, no, actually. I’m not going to sit here in silence. Okay?” You stayed staring into his hazel eyes until you got a nod, but you wanted his answer in words. So you kept gazing into those hazel eyes until you got one.

“Okay. Alright,” he said, lowering his fork and pushing away from the table slightly, keeping his eyes on you. “What did you want to talk about, Love?”

His use of that endearment almost makes you reconsider this conversation. Almost. “I wanted to talk about your workload. And how it’s affecting me. And your treatment of me.” He only nodded, encouraging you to continue. “I feel like your workload doesn’t leave time for us anymore. It seems like the amount of stuff you have to do on a daily basis is way more than it used to be. You barely get any time off, and even on your days off you still have to do something. Like today. And I want to know if that’s how you feel, too.” You gave him time to consider.

He cleared his throat. “I like to stay busy. You know that. I haven’t noticed an increase in my duties, but even if there has been, I’m not sure if there is anything I could do about it. Everyone’s plate is already full. I can talk to Rhys about allocating jobs, but I can’t make any promises.”

You nodded, if only to give you something to do. That was not the answer you wanted to hear, but you could work with it. You wanted to broach your next point, but you were scared he wouldn’t take it well. You took a deep breath. “This… this leads me into my next point. I feel like…I feel as though you haven't been treating me how I want to be treated recently. Like sometimes I get my mate Az, and other days I get Azriel the shadowsinger. Or I get moody, likes-to-slam-doors Az who can’t bother to answer his mate in full sentences because he's too pissed off at something he doesn’t even want to tell me, his mate, who he should be able to tell everything to, even if it “doesn’t concern me.”” Your voice had started to rise, but you couldn’t help it. You were angry. “And this was why I wanted to talk about your workload. It feels like you’re getting upset more because you have more to do, which in turn makes you unintentionally take it out on me. you regard me as a permanent fixture in this house, but I am not. I will leave if I am not treated the way I deserve. And Gods, Azriel, I hope that this is the only reason, that it is only because of you working too much, because if it’s something else, if it has to do with your feelings towards me changing, I don’t…I don’t even…” you trailed off, holding back a sob that had started climbing your throat.

Azriel was now standing, making his way over to you. He knelt down right in front of you, taking your hand in his, his eyes, full of worry and confusion, searched yours for answers. “Okay, alright, you’re right. I have been acting like a jerk to you recently. And I’m so sorry for that. Truly. Work has been a lot to deal with recently, but that’s no excuse. I'll talk to Rhys about getting more time off. So I can spend it with you, alright? But how could you think my feelings have changed? How could you even think that?” His look was incredulous.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, or rather, tried to. “We’ve been mated for a century. A lot can happen in that amount of time. I thought maybe…maybe the spark was dimming for you. Maybe you changed your mind. About me. About us. And if you did, that would be alright. I would live with that, if it made you happy.” You work your confession out between sobs. “I just…I guess I just got scared. I don't want to lose you.”

His eyes were still on yours, but the emotion in them had shifted. Now they were full of anger. Not anger for you, but rather anger at himself. How could he treat you like this? In a way that made you think he did not love you anymore. He had failed, he realized. He was failing you, your relationship, your trust in him. He had to fix this, had to try harder. “I’m not going anywhere,” he said with conviction, no room left for argument. “I love you. So much. More now than I did a century ago. Every day I love you more. I didn’t even think that was possible, but with you it is. You’re not getting rid of me even if you wanted to, okay? I’m staying, and I’m going to try harder, get more days off, spend them all with you. You’re the love of my life, ya? Nothing will change that.” He pulled you into a hug, kissed away your tears, and kept kissing you until your cheeks were dry.

He kissed you one more time, hard, on the cheek, then went back to his side of the table and sat down. He thanked you for dinner, asked about your day, what all you did, and in turn told you what had happened at the House of Wind. Apparently one of the Illarian camps had started some fights with another camp over space and resources. Rhys had thought it was taken care of, but there was another fight today, which resulted in Azriel having to go over there, break it up, and be the peacekeeper longer than he wanted. Hence him coming home late and in a pissy mood.

“You’re wearing my shirt,” he stated, cutting off your story of you in the market today. It wasn’t a conscious thought to cut you off. He had only just now realized you were wearing his shirt, and basically nothing else. He had been so distracted by what had happened today and you bringing up your concerns that he hadn’t even noticed. Possession coiled in his stomach like a serpent strangling its prey. Seeing you in his clothes, even though it was a rare occurrence, always made him hard. He couldn’t help it. Your strong, soft body wrapped in his shirt, the sleeves rolled up to your elbows, exposing all that lickable skin. It made his knees buckle.

“Is that okay?” you asked tentatively. He was looking at you now like a starved man, which you knew he wasn't, given the finished plate of food before him. You rarely wore his clothes, mainly because you swam in them due to how big they were on you. You guessed he was just surprised to see you in something of his, but that didn’t explain the heat in his gaze. “I put it on after I got home from running errands. I wanted to take a nap and I figured you weren’t using it so…” you explained, trailing off.

“You’ve been wearing my shirt all day. Only my shirt.” It wasn’t a question. More like a repetition of the fact in order to understand. But it wasn’t just his shirt you were wearing. As he said it he noticed the purple strap poking out by your shoulder. A purple strap. You didn’t own any purple undergarments. “What is that?” he asked, his gaze burning a hole in your shoulder.

Before you could even answer him he said, “Purple. You don’t own anything purple.” His gaze was lighting you on fire, his eyes full of slow understanding, pupils blown wide with lust.

You got up from your chair, pushing your empty dinner plate slightly forward, and walked around the kitchen table to his side to stand right in front of him. “Well, while I was out,” you started, your voice low and seductive, “I passed by that shop, you know, the one I got that royal blue set from.” Azriel knew exactly what you were talking about. Remembered your squirming form underneath him while you were in that set. He was starting to feel lightheaded from how much of his blood had gone to his crotch. “And I figured it wouldn’t hurt to go in and see if they had anything as good as that royal blue set.” You were teasing him now, you knew it. But it was so fun, you couldn’t help yourself.

“Please, my love. Please let me see it. Let me see you,” he begged, winned. It was music to your ears. He was so hard it looked like it hurt. He had started slipping off his chair onto his knees in front of you, his scarred hands coming up to grip your hips. He was actually begging.

“You want to see it?” you taunted. He nodded, swallowing audibly. “Alright, but no touching. Not yet.” You pushed his hands off your hips, which was more difficult than you thought it would be, and began unbuttoning the shirt. Each button you worked to undo made Azriel’s breathing heavier, until he was practically panting. His hands were clenched so tightly at his sides you were sure his fingernails would leave marks on his palms.

You felt like a goddess; the man you adored more than anything knelt at your feet, completely enraptured by you, in awe of all you are. You reached the last button, undoing it achingly slowly, just to see your mate break out in a sweat. His hands were clenching his thighs hard enough to bruise, his chest heaved like a dying man, and the only thing shining in his eyes was need. Need for you, need to touch you, need to be buried in you until neither of you could tell where one ended and the next began. Azriel was a gentleman, but right now, here in front of you, he was the embodiment of pure animalistic lust. One word from you and he would snap. Just how you liked him.

You let the shirt part, giving him a nice view of the valley between your breasts, as well as the crossing straps and lower, to where those straps connected. You dragged one side of the shirt down off your shoulder, then repeated the movement on the other side. Finally, you let the shirt drop off of you, leaving you only in that purple set. You stepped closer to him, and caressed his face with your hand.

“Please.” It was barely a whisper, but you heard it, saw his lips part to form the word. His eyes were pleading with yours. He needed you. Now.

“Okay,” was all you said before he was on you, standing, gripping your hips, kissing you, running his hands over all that satin. He was everywhere all at once, biting your lips, coaxing moans from your throat, groaning over the feel of you, and you reveled in it all. His hands came around the back of your thighs, and suddenly you were being picked up and carried down the hall, towards your shared bedroom.

You were placed gently onto the bed, which was still rumpled from your nap earlier. Azriel leaned over you, taking you all in. “I love the purple, but I need you naked,” he said, peppering your jaw with kisses. You reached down to your hips and unhooked the straps from the panties. Azriel quickly figured out how to get your top off, and in a matter of seconds he was dragging the purple satin down your breasts just so his hands and lips could cover them again.

He took one of your nipples into his mouth, rolled the other between his fingers, and sucked and licked and pinched and bit till your chest was littered with marks from him. All the while, moans and whimpers poured out of you. Azriel reveled in the divine sounds you made, the sounds he made you make.

He made his way down your body, drawing closer and closer to where you needed him most.

“Please, baby. Please let me taste you,” he whispered, pleaded, begged. You gave him confirmation, that one word he needed to hear, then he was dragging those purple satin panties down your legs and throwing them across the room. He parted your legs, exposing your glistening core to him. The look in his eyes was that of absolute hunger. He didn’t bother with teasing you. He put his tongue right on your cunt, giving you no time to adjust or think before he licked a stripe from your entrance to your clit, spreading your arousal across his tongue.

You propped yourself up on your elbows so you could watch him; watch as he devoured you, drank from you, absolutely consumed you. He licked and sucked at your clit, brought it between his teeth, and eased the bite with more licks. Your head fell back as you moaned his name, lost in the pleasure he was giving you. Sooner than you even thought possible, you were on the edge of release, that coil in your belly drawing tighter and tighter. Without warning, Azriel slid a finger into you, curling it in a way that had you falling apart. He added a second, and it was your undoing.

You came with Azriel’s name on your lips. He worked you through your pleasure, continued to lick and suck till you were shaking from overstimulation. You pushed his head away, but he wouldn’t budge. He kept on licking you, drinking every drop of your release straight from the source. You were boneless, soar from overstimulation, but you could feel another orgasm rising within you.

Azriel moaned from the taste of you, the vibration making your hips buck. He continued to work his fingers into you, curling perfectly to reach that spot that made you scream. Profanities and pleads and promises poured from your mouth, but Azriel didn’t stop until you were coming again, on his fingers, on his face, on his tongue. Finally, after drinking every last drop of your essence, he worked his way back up to your mouth.

He kissed you until you came back to reality, until your limbs regained function. You kissed him back, moaning from the taste of yourself on his tongue. And then you were pushing him onto his back, straddling his hips to keep him there. He struggled a bit, pointing to his pinned wings, but you only smiled at him. “Is the Illarian baby pinned?” you taunted him. He stopped struggling, but instead glared at you. So you dragged a finger down one of the veins in his wings, and a moan slipped past his lips.

“That's what I thought,” you muttered. He was still fully clothed, and the contrast of your nakedness only spurred you on further. You kissed him, long and deep and unhurried, while you unbuttoned the length of his shirt. He broke the kiss to shed his shirt, so you turned your attention to unlacing his pants. While you worked, he kissed and nipped your neck, working marks into your soft flesh. You worked his pants down his legs, aided with Azriel’s help, and eventually he was naked underneath you.

You pressed him down to lay flat on the bed, then started your journey down towards his hard length. As you worked your way down, you liked and sucked and bit until his skin was littered with marks, just like yours was. You scraped your nails down his arms, down his sides, till he was shivering from your touch.

Kneeling now between his legs, guided a hand towards his length while you kissed his hips and rolled the skin between your teeth. His hips bucked at the fist fell of your hands on him, which made you smile. “So responsive,” you purred, then licked him from base to tip. He let out a moan that had your thighs rubbing together. With your tongue, you licked up the bead of precum that had frond, then promptly took as much of him into your mouth as you could.

Azriel speared his fingers through your hair, not to control your head but to steady himself. Your mouth was a dream to him; warm and wet and perfect. Second best only to your cunt. You hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper and deeper into your mouth until he was hitting the back of your throat. Az was panting at this point, his skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Your mouth felt so good, but he needed to be inside you.

“I’m gonna…please…I need to be inside you,” he panted out. You pulled your mouth off him with a pop, then gave him one last lick before you climbed your way back up to him. You kissed him, mainly just so he could taste himself on you. Then you positioned your hips just above his, readying yourself to sink onto his length.

Using his hand, he parted you, spreading your slick on you and on his hand. He eased you onto his cock slowly, letting you adjust to him. Every time you took him, it was an adjustment. You hoped that would never change. You both made an obscene noise when he was finally, completely in you.

“You want to be filled, baby?” he asked as he ran the fingers he had parted you with down between your ass cheeks. Yes, you wanted to be full of him, wanted to be overwhelmed by him, wanted to feel him everywhere. You nodded. “Words, love,” he chided softly.

“Yes, please Az,” you wined. That was all you had to say before he worked his fingers into you, using your slick on his fingers as lube. He gripped your hips with the rest of that hand and the other, a bruising grip that was sure to leave bruises.

Azriel was sitting up slightly now, and even though you were on top of him, he set the pace. Slow rolls of your hips guided by his hands started you off. All you could think about was how full of him you were, how overwhelming the feeling of him everywhere was. Your pace quickens, spurred on by your whimpers and his moans. Your eyes were locked with eachothers, and within Azriel’s you saw his bottomless pool of love for you. His pupils were blown wide, and so were yours.

You kissed him, hard, and he returned it even harder. You’re moaning into eachothers mouths, the only goal being to guide each other to your peaks. You could feel that ache building, that need for release drawing closer and closer. Azriel could feel it too, reveling in the way your walls gripped him. He shifted his free hand around to play with your clit, and then you were coming, harder than you had in a while, cresting on a silent scream.

Azriel was right behind you, fucking sloppily into you until you were gripping him so tightly he could barely move. He came, chanting your name like a prayer, until his voice went hoarse.

You both laid there, panting and boneless, for minutes or hours or days, you couldn't tell. Eventually he guided you off of him, pulling out of you with a hiss, to lay you next to him. He gave you a kiss on the cheek before getting up to go to the bathing room. You heard the sound of water rushing into the tub, and in the next minute Azriel came back in, picked you up bridal style, and whisked you into the bathing room.

He set you down gently into the warm water then joined you, settling in right behind you. He pulled you back so your back was against his chest, then proceeded to wash you with a soapy cloth. When he was done you returned the favor, batting his hand away when he tried to protest. You finished up in the bath, dried each other off, then slipped into some sleeping clothes and then bed.

“We’re okay, right?” he asked, pulling you closer to him. Your heart melted, warmed by the idea that he wanted to make sure.

Yes, Az. We’re all good,” you replied, giving him a kiss on the nose.

“Okay. good,” was all he said before he tucked you tighter into him and you both fell asleep.

#acotar #azriel fanfiction #azriel fluff #azriel shadowsinger #comfort #acotar fic #fanfiction #night court #azriel x reader #fluff #angst with a happy ending #angst #smut #azriel smut #acotar smut #azriel angst

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moonstruckme · 11 months ago

Note

can i request poly!marauders x female reader where she gets burnt out easily and most people don't know this cause she like leaves or hides before they can see. So one day they were hanging out all day and she gets burnt out but they don't know what happened so they get all worried when she all of a sudden just looks so drained and tired and can barely smile or anything. Sorry if this doesn't make sense. This happens to me a lot with new friends and because I get so burnt out I sometimes even need other people to explain for me cause talking is even too much. Thank you so much if you do it!! ♡♡♡♡♡I love your fics so much♡♡♡♡

Thanks for requesting gorgeous, love you :)

cw: social burnout

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 948 words

“I just don’t see why they would change them,” James complains, sipping dissatisfiedly at his butterbeer.

“You’re such a creature of habit,” Sirius sighs heavily, but you all know his boredom is for show. He only wants to rile James.

“The old quidditch uniforms were just fine,” James is practically monologuing now, staring into the middle distance with a furrow between his brows. His elbow bumps your arm as he gestures helplessly. “Red and gold—those are the Gryffindor colors, red and gold. So why are the new uniforms bright red and yellow?”

“Maybe so you’re more visible,” you suggest, and Remus’ lips twist amusedly as he leans across the table to sip at your butterbeer. Neither of you had much appetite after your long day of snacking at the quidditch match, so you’d agreed to split one. You’ll admit, you find the two straws poking out of your mug embarrassingly romantic.

“We look tacky,” James grumbles, slumping a bit in his seat. You see Remus’ arm reach under the table, and you know he’s straining to rub his boyfriend’s thigh consolingly. “The gold was so much better.”

“At least you can pull off a yellow like that,” Sirius points out. “Can’t say the same for Callaghan. He looked totally washed out.”

This would be your time to chip in with a comment about how Sirius’ pallid countenance wouldn’t fare so well in the new colors either, but you find you don’t want to. There’s a persistent pressure at your temples. Once you acknowledge it, the rest is impossible to stop. Exhaustion seeps into you like a poison, all the way down to your bones, and you’re done. You’ve been around people—mostly your boyfriends, who you love very much, but people nonetheless—since you woke up this morning, and had talked and laughed and participated all day long, and now you’re done. You want to be home.

“True, but even he looked better than you would have, Pads,” James voices the zinger for you, he and Remus trading entertained looks when Sirius starts spluttering about how he looks good in every color, thank you very much.

“Alright, I can’t have any more of this.” Remus pushes the butterbeer towards you decisively. “All yours, dove.”

You know you haven’t had anywhere near your fair share, but the idea of reaching over, of going through the effort of bringing the straw to your lips, is too much. “Thanks,” you say to him, “I’m good.”

Remus’ brow creases. You feel horribly dramatic.

“I’ll take it,” James says merrily, reaching for the mug before Sirius slaps his hand away.

“Oi, it’s hers.” Sirius gives him a mean look, nudging the butterbeer back towards you. “You’re like a fucking vulture, Prongs. Darling, are you sure you don’t want what’s left? You know he’ll down it in one gulp.”

“I’m sure.” You try to give him a smile, but even you can feel what a flimsy attempt it is. “Thanks anyway.”

Sirius’ expression clouds over with concern, and you look at the table.

“Hey.” James reaches for your hand, squeezing your fingers lightly between his. “What’s up, lovely?”

You sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Just tired.”

Sirius makes an incredulous sound, and you know what he wants to say even though he doesn’t. Yeah, I can see that. “Did something happen?” he asks instead.

You frown, hating that you don’t have a more satisfying answer. “No.”

“Dove,” Remus tries to get your attention from across the table. “Are you feeling sick?”

“No. I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine, honey.” James’ voice is soft, but you can hear the unease in it. “Are you sure you’re not sick?” He touches the back of his hand to your forehead, then lets it slip down to your cheek. “Maybe it was the butterbeer. Rem, are you feeling alright?”

“I feel normal,” Remus says, seeming at a loss.

“Hey.” There’s a hand on your leg, and you look up to see Sirius leaning towards you, giving you one of his stern looks. “What’s going on with you, huh? Talk to us.”

“I’m fine, seriously.” You do your best to look it, sitting up from James’ shoulder, though your dull voice belies your words. “I’m just drained.”

“Drained how?” he presses.

“Just…done.” You shrug helplessly. “I’m sorry, I think I want to go home. I just need to be by myself for a little bit, is that okay?”

“Of course,” Remus says, standing and grabbing his coat. “You don’t have to be sorry, dove. It was just a long day, is that it?”

You nod, relieved.

He shrugs on his own coat before grabbing yours, helping you into it when you slide out of the booth. “I understand. It’s been a lot of socializing for one day. You should have told us you were feeling tired, I could have gone home with you after the game.”

“I didn’t know until it just happened,” you say, but you don’t have the energy to really argue.

Remus doesn’t want to, either. He kisses the top of your head as he zips your coat, taking your hand in his.

“We’ll get you home and you can hole up as long as you need,” Sirius promises, pulling on his gloves. “You introverts, so weak.”

“She’s probably drained because of you,” James teases back. He wraps a protective arm around your shoulders, tucking you against his side.

“That’s not how it works,” you say quietly, but James shushes you, dipping down to kiss the side of your head.

“I know, angel, but if you say it is, he’ll be buying your butterbeers for the next week. The month, if you play it right.”

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solarmorrigan · 11 months ago

Text

Hands Where I Can See Them, Part 4

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

The only thing Eddie is dreading as much as Steve’s return for his things is Wayne’s inevitable question about where Steve is at all.

After all, Steve has practically been living with them for weeks – something that Eddie may not have allowed himself to consider the significance of, but which Wayne cannot have failed to notice. Though Steve had (apparently) felt the need to do things around the trailer to stay in Wayne’s good graces, he really didn’t have to worry about it; Wayne likes him, and he’ll be asking sooner or later just where Steve has gone.

‘Sooner’ comes two nights after Eddie royally fucks things over. It’s Wayne’s night off, and there’s really no avoiding him; their new trailer is bigger than the last, but it’s still close quarters, and Eddie gets caught when he passes through the living room to get a drink from the kitchen.

“Noticed Steve isn’t here tonight,” Wayne says, blunt as hell, because he doesn’t see the point in doing things any other way.

“Nope,” Eddie says shortly, grabbing a glass from the cabinet and filling it from the tap.

“Wasn’t here last night, either,” Wayne goes on.

“He was not,” Eddie confirms.

“Wasn’t here when I got in yesterday morning,” Wayne says.

“You are a veritable font of observation tonight,” Eddie says, only a little snarky.

Wayne shrugs. “Hard not to notice when he’s here nine days out of ten, then suddenly up and disappears,” he says. He pauses a moment before adding, “Stuff’s gone from the bathroom, too.”

Eddie occupies himself with slowly swallowing down half his glass of water before he answers. “Yeah.”

“Don’t suppose he’s going on a trip,” Wayne doesn’t quite ask, and Eddie lets out a bitter sort of laugh.

“Loving the optimism from you, but no, not… not so much.”

There are a few beats of silence, and then Wayne lets out a slow sigh. Eddie knows him well enough to understand the sound of it – he’s just decided to get involved.

“You two have a fight?”

“Something like that,” Eddie mutters.

“Well that’s vague as hell, son. You have a fight, or didn’t you?” Wayne prods.

Slowly, Eddie shakes his head. “No, I– I don’t think so. I think it was all me,” he says, finally looking up from his glass and meeting Wayne’s questioning gaze. “I fucked up, Wayne.”

There’s no immediate judgement coming from Wayne, no suspicion or scorn, not even a shake of the head and some variation of “Of course you did.” There’s only a measured sort of curiosity in his stare, the same way it’s been since Eddie was a kid and Wayne was trying to figure him out; it’s sort of comforting in its familiarity, in its neutrality.

“You wanna tell me about it?” Wayne asks.

Eddie knows that if he says no, Wayne will let it go. He might keep sending curious and worried looks Eddie’s way, he might ask a few more prodding questions over the next few days, but he won’t make Eddie say anything he doesn’t want to. And Eddie doesn’t really want to – but he thinks that maybe he needs to.

“If… you had to define mine and Steve’s relationship, what would you say?” Eddie asks after a moment.

Wayne cocks an eyebrow at him. “I’d say that feels like a trick question.”

Eddie lets out a little huff of a laugh. “It’s not, I swear. I’m seriously curious,” he says. “There are no wrong answers – go.”

“Well,” Wayne says, still eyeing Eddie consideringly, “I don’t know if you kids put labels on things these days or what, but from the outside, I’d say you’re dating. I’d say that boy is fully in love with you and that you’re at least halfway to loving him back.”

“Right.” Eddie gives a jerky nod. “Seems like that’s what pretty much everyone thinks.”

“But that’s not what’s going on,” Wayne takes a guess.

“Well, that depends on your perspective,” Eddie says, a little high and tight.

“Well, the only perspectives worth a damn here’re yours’n Steve’s,” Wayne shoots back. “So what would those be?”

Eddie drains the last of his water, turning away to put the glass in the sink. “Steve… shares your perspective. Or, uh– he did. But I… I didn’t realize he was so serious. I thought we were just kind of messing around.”

The silence from behind Eddie is so thick that he can’t help but finally turn around and meet Wayne’s gaze again.

“That’s a hell of a blind spot, Ed,” Wayne says simply, and Eddie folds in on himself a bit, crossing his arms over his chest. His main defense has always been to become larger than life – to make big gestures and even bigger speeches, but everything about this situation makes him feel like nothing so much as small.

“Yeah,” he says quietly.

“So, what, you figured out how serious he was and thought you didn’t want that?” Wayne asks, and Eddie hunches a little further in on himself.

“Nope. No, that– would’ve been better, actually. If that’s what happened. But that’s not what happened, because did I mention I fucked up? Because I seriously fucked up.” Eddie’s rambling is stemmed by an expectant look from Wayne. “It’s just – the other night, when the guys were over, we got to talking about it. The whole… me and Steve thing. As in, they thought me and Steve were a thing. And they asked me about it. While Steve was out of the room. And then he, uh. Hm.” Eddie rubs a hand nervously over his chin. “He walked back in when I was in the middle of telling them that he's just a friend and that we’re just having fun. And that’s… when I found out how serious he was.”

“Eddie…”

“I know. I know!” Eddie doesn’t even have to look at Wayne to catch the disappointment coming off of him, so he doesn’t. He scrubs hands over his face and then just leaves him there, telling the rest of the story to his palms. “He was so fucking upset, Wayne, I think– I think I actually made him cry? And the only reason he hasn’t been here to get the rest of his stuff out of the trailer yet is because he was down with a migraine the next day. Like, I hurt him so badly I made him physically ill. So I didn’t just fuck up, but I’m actually a horrible human being and should probably spend the rest of my days living in isolation so I don’t ruin anyone else’s life.”

Wayne is silent for so long that Eddie is eventually forced to peek out from behind his fingers.

“You’re not gonna tell me how bad I fucked up?” Eddie asks, still a bit muffled.

“Seems like you have that covered already,” Wayne says, then he holds up one arm in offer, nodding towards the empty spot beside him on the couch. “C’mere.”

He doesn’t need to ask Eddie twice. No matter how old he gets, Eddie doesn’t think a genuine hug from his uncle will ever stop being comforting, and regardless of whether or not he thinks he actually deserves it right now, he’s going to take it. He crashes down onto the couch and leans heavily into Wayne’s side, sighing as Wayne wraps his arm around his shoulders.

“You’re not a bad person, Ed. You made a mistake, s’all,” Wayne says, and Eddie scoffs.

“Pretty big fucking mistake,” he mutters.

“Yep, that was a doozy. You hurt someone you care about, and you might not be able to fix it all the way. But that doesn’t make you terrible. Makes you human.” Wayne gives Eddie a comforting squeeze. “And Steve ain’t a bad person, either. He’ll know you mean it when you tell him you’re sorry.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says quietly.

“You think about what you’re gonna do when he does show to get the rest of his stuff?” Wayne asks.

“Besides grovel?” Eddie shoots back.

“I mean, what’re you gonna grovel for?”

Eddie lets out a long breath. “I… I know I might not be able to fix it, but I just – I want the chance to try. I’m hoping he’ll just give me that chance.” Eddie pauses for a moment, choked by the dread of the thought that Steve might not give him that chance. “Things don’t have to go back to the way they were, but I at least want him to know that even if I’m shit at showing it, I do care.”

“Sounds like a decent place to start,” Wayne says.

“Think so?” Eddie asks.

“Mm.”

“Well… I hope Steve thinks so, too.”

Wayne gives his shoulders another squeeze and says nothing more, but he doesn’t really have to. He’s already settled Eddie’s nerves more than he’d thought possible; just this is more than enough.

Now Eddie just has to try to hold onto the feeling long enough to talk to Steve.

It turns out, Eddie doesn’t have to hold onto the feeling for very long at all; the very next morning—two days after Robin had read Eddie the riot act and left him to begin tentatively planning—another knock comes at the door.

It’s ten in the morning – not as early as Eddie had expected, but early enough that he’s not long out of bed when he opens the door to find Steve on the other side.

In contrast to Eddie’s sweatpants and t-shirt, Steve looks like he’s trying very hard to look like he’s alright. His polo is clean and tucked in, the collar is straight, his hair is as perfectly styled as ever – but there’s still something off. There are dark circles under his eyes, stark against a paler than normal complexion, and none of the ease or contentment that Eddie has grown used to shines from his face. He feels a little like he wants to mourn its absence.

“Hey,” Steve says, nodding in greeting.

“Hey,” Eddie says back, because for all his thoughts and planning, he hadn’t really considered how to start this encounter.

“I came to get my shit out of your way,” Steve says, and Eddie frowns.

It’s not in my way, he wants to say. You’re not in my way. Leave your stuff. Stay.

“Uh. Yeah, sure,” Eddie says instead, stepping aside to let Steve in.

Steve is carrying a cardboard box, but doesn’t seem to have anything or anyone else in tow. For as spread throughout Eddie’s life as Steve has become, he wonders if all of him will fit into that one box.

“Kinda surprised you didn’t bring Buckley to help pack,” Eddie says, glancing back out the screen door, as if Robin might appear out of nowhere.

“Just dropped her off at work,” Steve says. “I figured she probably already had… words for you when she picked up my meds, and I didn’t think any of us needed an encore.”

“I don’t know,” Eddie says quietly. “The stuff she said got me thinking.”

In the process of grabbing a jacket he’d left behind off one of the hooks by the door, Steve only glances back at Eddie. “I’m sure she had a lot to say,” he says, carefully neutral.

“Yeah. She, uh – definitely did. Can we talk?” Eddie asks.

Steve sighs. “Eddie…”

“Just hear me out, please. Then I’ll get out of your way and let you pack in peace, I promise,” Eddie says.

“We don’t– have to talk about it,” Steve says, turning back to face Eddie. “Look, I’m sorry for putting my weird expectations on you. I was reading into stuff that wasn’t there, and I made assumptions instead of just talking to you, and that’s on me. So I’m gonna just – get out of your hair, and you won’t have to deal with my stupid, delusional bullshit anymore.”

“No, that’s not– Steve–” Eddie reaches out for Steve as he tries to brush past on his way to the bedroom, where most of his belongings are. He gets a hand around Steve’s bicep and, though Steve doesn’t jerk away this time, he goes stiff and still beneath Eddie’s touch, prompting Eddie to let go.

It hurts; even though Eddie’s done it to himself, the reaction still hurts. He’s always reached for Steve in the past, always had his hands on him, and Steve had always welcomed him, even before they’d started sleeping together. Now, Eddie takes a step back, forcing himself to give Steve some space.

“That’s not what I want to say at all,” he says. “I mean – I would’ve liked if we’d talked about it, because then I would’ve known, and I could’ve appreciated what it was – what we were doing.”

Steve turns back to face Eddie, his gaze snapping straight to him with equal suspicion and confusion. “What?”

“Steve, you weren’t reading into things that weren’t there, you’re not– you’re not stupid or delusional, I was just – I was sending you mixed signals,” Eddie says. “I was so wrapped up in thinking that I knew what was going on, that I didn’t look at what I really had, and I’m sorry. But if I knew, if I’d just gotten my head out of my ass, you have to believe that in a heartbeat, I would have–”

“Don’t,” Steve cuts in sharply.

“Steve–”

“I don’t need whatever this is, Eddie,” Steve snaps. “You don’t need to have pity on your pathetic ex-whatever I am to you, okay? It’s okay, just– just let it go.”

“This isn’t pity,” Eddie insists with an incredulous little laugh. “It’s fucking not, I swear! This is me saying that I fucked up and I hurt you and I want to make it up to you. I haven’t done anything to deserve it, but I want the chance to show you how sorry I am and how much you mean to me– in whatever capacity you’ll let me.”

“Whatever capacity?” Steve stares at him, brows furrowed.

“Whatever you’ll be comfortable with. As a friend, or… as more, if that bridge hasn’t burned,” Eddie says.

“What, so now I’m relationship material?” Steve asks, pointed.

Eddie winces. “I shouldn’t have said that. I shouldn’t have said any of that, and if I could go back in time and slap myself upside the head before I let any of that shit out and hurt you with it, I would. I know that… I know I didn’t pay enough attention to you, but I also wasn’t paying very much attention to how I was feeling,” he says. “Because honestly? I’m kind of a moron, Steve. I’ve never had sex with someone I really liked, with someone who was anything like a friend, and when I started wanting to be around you all the time, and always wanting you within reach, and when every little thing started to remind me of you, I just thought… yeah, this is what friends-with-benefits feels like. Y’know, like a fucking idiot.”

Steve doesn’t laugh. “I don’t know if I can trust you on that,” he says softly, and that’s fair.

It hurts, but it’s fair.

“Then let me earn your trust back. Please, Steve, just… give me the chance,” Eddie implores, doesn’t even care that he’s basically begging – Eddie doesn’t beg, but for Steve, he’ll make an exception. For Steve, he thinks he’ll do just about anything.

Pursing his lips, Steve looks at the floor beside Eddie’s feet for a long moment, and Eddie gives him the time to sort his thoughts out.

“I want to say yes. Part of me just wants to accept your apology and pretend that none of this happened. Just keep going the way we were,” he says. “But I can’t keep doing that – ignoring shit. I just… can’t.”

“I’m not asking you to,” Eddie says. “I don’t want things to be like they were before, I want – I want to be better. I want to do better.”

“How?” Steve asks, both challenging and curious.

“I want to do it right. I want to show you how much I appreciate you, and how much you mean to me. I want to treat you like you deserve to be treated,” Eddie insists. “And if that’s just by being the best friend I can be, then that’s what I’ll do, but I would love—love—if you’d let me romance you.”

That briefly breaks through Steve’s stony façade, and he lets out a huff of a laugh. “Romance me?”

“Shit, yeah. Flowers and chocolates and candle-lit dates – the whole nine yards,” Eddie says with a slow grin. “All the things you’ve given other people but that no one has ever given you.”

“I…” Steve starts, his own humor fading quickly. “I don’t know.”

It’s better than an outright ‘no.’

“That’s okay,” Eddie promises. “You don’t have to know right now. I can wait. I’m a patient kinda guy.”

(That’s an absolute lie, and they both know it, but Eddie will find all the patience in the world if Steve needs time to think.)

Slowly, Steve nods. “I think… Just, give it a couple of weeks, okay? Really think about it, and if this – if I’m something you still want by then, come talk to me again,” he says. “Alright?”

“Yeah.” Eddie nods rapidly. “As much time as you want. I’m not going to up and change my mind. Two weeks, I’ll ask again.”

Steve shrugs, taking a step back towards the bedroom.

“I will,” Eddie promises – not defensive, but certain. He can wait two weeks. He can wait as long as Steve needs him to. Maybe he can take the time to get his shit together.

He does care about Steve. He does pay attention – and he’s going to prove it.

But in the meantime, the only thing Steve has asked for is space, so Eddie gives it to him. He retreats to the kitchen to let Steve pack up in peace, trying hard not to feel bereft at the thought of the gaps Steve will be leaving behind.

If he’s lucky—if he’s very, very lucky—it won’t be forever.

Part 5

Tag List (drop me a line if you want on or off the ride): @bushbees @y0urnewstepp4r3nt @gleek4twd @hellfireone @westifer-dead @anne-bennett-cosplayer @starman-jpg @mugloversonly @swimmingbirdrunningrock @alycatavatar @y4r3luv @rhapsodyinalto @vinteraltus @lilpomelito @tillystealeaves @noctxrn-e

I did my best to catch everyone, but there were a few people Tumblr wouldn't let me tag. Sorry if I missed you!

#steddie #eddie & wayne #eddie munson #wayne munson #steve harrington #stranger things #eddiesteve #solar wrote #I write wayne once a year so here's my annual allotted amount I guess #listen you know I love hurt/comfort and I love happy endings but one thing you should never expect from me is consistent chapter lengths #things happen as they happen!

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cvnt4him · 5 months ago

Note

Emergency request bc I’m literally struggling so bad and feeling neglected as shit rn

ofc if you’re up to it pooks ik ur alr stressing over stuff and I don’t want to make it worse :(

Maybe some iida or monoma x reader that try’s hard to do stuff but always gets neglected? Thanks pooks 💕

I hope I got to this in enough time for you, I'm sorry for whatever you're going through n trust you're not making my situation any worse, you're actually helping me get rid of writers block so ty for this n I hope this reaches you well and is what you hoped for🫶🏽🫶🏽

mha boys x reader.

Included; izuku midoriya, kirishima ejirou, bakugou katsuki, tenya iida, monoma neito, denki kaminari.

Not in order.

Genre: angst? comfort/feel-good/fluff.

Izuku midoriya is none other than a saint. He helps everyone around him and he strives to keep his good boy/golden boy title. You admire him for that and you know others do, you also know one day he'll not only be yours but belong to the world. It gets to you but you try so hard to not let it.

When you two started dating no one knew at first, but izuku couldn't just stand by and let people not know that you were his. That he finally had a girlfriend who thought he was worthy of love. You truly felt that he deserved to be loved and he felt so seen with you, more than anyone else had ever made him feel.

Sooner or later after people found out, people began giving you such disgusting looks. Mostly girls you noticed. They would whisper about you when you were alone and look at you with mean and disgusted looks and they would laugh at you while you walked. No matter what you did you always had eyes on you. People laughing at the way you ate or spoke or dressed, it was draining.

You knew why it was happening and you tried so hard not to let it get to you. But none of that could even begin to compare to once your friends found out the two of you were dating.

You walked into the girls locker room to see all of the girls standing in a circle, you had already heard through the door they were having a conversation however you didn't exactly try to make out what they were saying. They all turned to look at you before slowly looking away to continue dressing, the silence had gotten rather too loud for your liking. They were just having a conversation before, why stop now that you were there? It bugged you the wrong way but you didn't want to make a commotion.

"so you and midoriya?"

Mina questions looking you up and down with a pointed look. She was one of your best friends, why was she looking at you like you're being investigated in a murder?

"uh.. yeah! We're dating."

You confirmed turning away to finish undressing. She hummed sucking her teeth and crossing her arms.

"you're dating him.. whilst knowing ochako liked him the whole time?"

She instigates, trying to get you to admit something. What the hell? Why would she say this? It's not your fault ochako didn't confess to izuku in enough time. It's not your fault he agreed to date you. It's not your fault he wanted everyone to know, so why was she trying to grill you like it was?

"look. I don't know what you're trying to get out of me, but--"

"just that you're a backstabbing bitch."

Silence filled the room once more as you scoffed clearly offended. She and the other girls stared at you with such disgusted and disappointed looks. You look around the room to see everyone staring at you with hatred and spite.

"are you fucking kidding me?!"

You ask around looking at all of them, there was no way they all hated you this much because you liked a boy.

"I mean.. you did kind of steal him off from under her.."

"you knew she liked him. Kind of bitchy."

"what about girl code, dude"

All the girls began saying their own opinions ganging up on you and practically eating you alive. They all shared their own fair share of mean words and side eyes before you finished getting dressed and slammed your locker shut making them all quiet down.

"fuck all of you."

You spat out while flipping them all off and leaving the room. You couldn't believe they're trying to decapitate you because ochako didn't have the balls to do what you did. Why does that make you a bad person.

The week started getting harder and harder as everyone, even some of the boys who knew ochako liked deku, started distancing themselves from you, al because of what mina would whisper in their ears, feeding them whatever she could pin in her web. And like the idiot fools they were, they believed her.

You were being neglected by your friends, all because you liked a boy. It began to be too much for you. Putting up this front for everyone who didn't even bother to see it or even your side of the story. You can't be happy with someone who has all these people liking them and making you feel shitty for also liking them. Maybe you'd have to break up with izuku.

When you came to him with this information he was furious. But not even with ochako or mine. With everything. The fact you'd been feeling shitty and didn't tell him and the fact you didn't tell him these people were bothering you. Izuku loves you more than he does himself and he isn't afraid to show that. He also loves his friends but he isn't going to let these people sit here and make you feel like shit because you're together.

He held you close that night, assuring you he wouldn't let this stand any longer. He was going to confront everyone for whatever they said to you and he wouldn't give a single shit about it. You were his and he loves you.

"I'm sorry for the way you've been feeling, love. I'm sorry that people have been treating you shitty and neglecting you because of our relationship. But you don't need any of them as long as you have me."

Tenya iida, one of the most compassionate hard working and caring people anyone has ever been graced to know. He is strong resilient and brave. He cares so much about everyone and it's so admirable. Some people see him as a wack job robot who just yells and screams or dotes too hard but to you he's perfect. An angel sent from the heavens above.

You've been working hard on something for a really long time. You hadn't told anyone about it because when you planned on it you wanted to also tell them the good news that would come with it. However that good news nevwr came. What you were doing wasn't good enough and it effectsd you deeply. Your grades fell, you started getting rather sluggish with your movements and you jardlt had the energy for anhone kr anyrhing.

Not getting the good news for what you've done was draining. It drained you to the point you wanted to break down and cry, yet nothing would come out. When people told you what you worked hard on, for so long, wasn't enough. It broke you, scarred you deeper than you could even begin to imagine. But tenya seen, he seen how you began to act, how you began to look more and more dead, how you'd began neglecting yourself. It was all too much for him to bear or watch you go through alone. He couldn't sit by and watch the love of his life perish.

Tenya held you in your dorm and let you cry on his shoulder for as long as you needed, having tissues on standby and rubbing your head gently. Placing kisses on top of your forehead and shushing you lightly as you both cuddled, he would be patient with you. He would wait until you were ready to talk or open up about what you were going through, but for now he wanted you to know you were loved and that he was proud of you.

"I love you, y/n. So much more than you could possibly fathom. I see you, and I am so incredibly proud of you. You are worthy and deserve someone who would move heaven and earth for you, I hope I am adequate enough for you."

Dating bakugou katsuki was hard. Not because he was an angry fiery shit head, but because he had such a burning passion for what he did. He never stopped striving and fighting to get what he wanted. He knew what he wanted and grasped at it and held onto it tight. It was nothing less than admirable.

The fact he could come back to you and tell you he loves you was admirable. He loved you and that meant so much to you. You loved him just as much and tried so hard to show up and be there for him. Through thick and thin, lows and highs, you wanted to be by his side regardless. He loved you for that reason alone, but he'd give you so many other reasons why he loves you.

He seen how hard you were working, how hard you were trying, how no one dared to even glance at you. He seen a faller bird that had potential and was worthy. Bakugou katsuki seen you. He wanted you and promised you he'd love you.

But for fucks sake, it always angered him to watch you get in such moods. To watch you neglect yourself and struggle with bad things. To put yourself under so much pressure and stress for no reason. When you'd cry your eyes out alone because you were tired.

He wanted to do so many things to you in that moment, but all his body could do was rush to you and hold you. He held you tightly, his fingers digging into the side of your hip. He buried his face in your neck and inhaled your sweet scent that always made him go feral.

You were his and he wouldn't dare let you sit here and feel shitty over whatever it was that was making you feel this way. He pushed and poked at every corner he could to get you to talk. Once you did he told you to shut the fuck up. You wanted to cry even more but you were sure he had reason to it.

And boy did he, he had such caring words laced with such menas things that were all wrapped in the cutest bow. He was emotionally constipated and had a hard time making people feel better. But watching him slightly struggle to find nice words to make you feel better while holding you close in his arms makes you feel so much better. Giggling at how he stammered over his words and how he tried to uphold a gentle voice to match the gentle strokes of his fingers on your side.

"look.. just. sigh. You're great okay. I love you and I'm not gonna just sit here n' let you whine n' shit for nothin'. Don't let whatever stupid shit is bothering you get t'ya. Or I'll beat yer' fuckin' ass."

Being kirishima eijirou's girlfriend was nothing other than a pure utter blessing. To be blessed with such an amazing caring and helpful boyfriend like him was genuinely a gift from the god above. He treated you like a queen who deserved to be worshipped.

It didn't take long for him to notice how hard you were struggling with things. He made sure before you got back to his dorm that it was all cozy and comfortable for you. One of the most romantic gestures he could have ever done for you. The way he had his laptop on his bed with so many plushies and comfortable pillows, and the fluffy cover he has and all the snacks you could ever imagine. He was nothing more than a blessing.

He held you tight and let you watch whatever you wanted, kirishima doesn't care about weight or anything like that, [yes I had to add this bit, bite me.] He loves training and working out with you, sure but he would never force you to do those things. He wants you to be nothing but comfortable with him and your body, so he would never shame you for how much you are or how you are in front of him. He loves you, all of you and he made sure you knew that. He kissed you and told you he loved you so many times. You fell asleep in his arms while he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

"I love you.. I hope this could make you feel better. I will always be here for you."

Denki kaminari. Where to even begin with him. He was such a funny guy that it was hard to tell when he was joking or being serious about committing arson. He always made sure you knew that he loved you. He always hung by you and stayed by your side. He wouldn't ever tell you but he was a bit insecure. There were some things about himself he wished he could change for you, some things he wished he could do for you. He never intended to bring himself down but sometimes he thought you were this super cool goddess who was worthy of something more than a tiny little pebble like him. He felt like he was gum beneath your shoe.

Denki knew he wasn't good at a lot of things, he knew he could be dumb or even useless at times but when he seen how short you were feeling and how you would start crying because of how stressed you were he couldn't just sit by and let you feel this way.

He let you vent to him like you laid in his arms. He let you out face masks on him and let you do his hair or paint his nails or draw on him and just let your rant to him about all of your worries and woes. He wanted you to feel the way you made him feel so he tried hard to keep his mouth shut and listen. Whenever he'd notice you quieting down because you thought he was getting tired of listening he'd ask you "why'd you stop?" It'd make you feel so happy to have someone like him.

Finally after you were finished he decided to carefully pick and close his words to make himself sound just a bit smarter and more cool for you.

"hey...I'm sorry that you're going through this.. I wish there was something a bit more that I could uhm.. do? I don't want you to feel like I'm a burden but I promise you I'm here for you, if you ever want to vent like this again or just have someone to talk to, or-- or even just sit in silence with someone.. I'm here."

Neito monoma, he's quite the distinguished fellow. He always hated class 1A and he seemed to make his whole personality about just that. Or so you thought. You two getting together was not on your 2024 bingo. But he knew how to make you feel things.

He gave you butterflies by just smiling. His laugh was loud and carefree. He wasn't afraid to boast and brag about anything you did, he even did it in front of you. It was hard to feel insecure with him around. He wanted the world to know you were better than them, especially class 1A.

He would give you flowers or cute bows or just things he felt you'd like. He learned you and your every move well. He'd even practice certain conversations before the two of you have them. He felt you were rather predictable in an exciting way. A way that could never make him unlove you.

You being in a bad mood angered him, he confronted you about it and was so ready to beat someone's ass. With his words. But once you assured him why you were feeling this way his gaze softened. He grabbed you by your shoulders and pulled you into a hug. One that felt like it could last an eternity. One that you hoped would.

He sighed and just held you for a while and took it to his bed which led to a cuddle sesh. He rubbed your shoulder while you buried your face in his chest, he felt the way your breath fanned all over him and it made a shiver go down his spine.

You listen to his heartbeat and breathe in as much of him as you could, you were afraid if you didn't take all of him in right now he might disappear. Every time he kissed your forehead lightly or peppered kisses over your ear snapped you back into reality and helped you realize this was real, that he was real and was with you. That he loved you and would do anything for you.

"I love you darling and I hope you know just how much I do. I'm rather angry that you hadn't told me how you were feeling but I suppose I can let it go for now.. get some rest, my love."

AN: so I decided to make it a to character thing n don't even mind that I basically made a whole story for izukus... We all know how I feel ab him..

Also off topic and not that anyone cares but I'm thinking ab updating my masterlist yk? Js make it more aesthetically pleasing to myself. Also I wrote this all in one go, this took ab maybe two hours?????

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