#perhaps.. flutters my lashes holds out my hand

[krikidilly]

Mrm. I should answer my asks.. awaaa

[flowerbunnyboo]

PROSTATE PLAY | back

starring: oc (Adam) x male reader

summary: Adam is a urologist, a doctor that deals with penises and prostates. Little did he expect to have one of the best sex ever with a random patient on a random day

nsfw

a/n: this is a repost. I have written one with a kpop idol. Thought I should post this without a kpop idol for the non kpop fans because I love the sayuncle videos

It was a typical Wednesday morning at Dr. Adam’s urology clinic. Patients trickled in, each with their unique set of urinary issues. Adam, a tall and handsome man in his early thirties, greeted them with a warm smile as he efficiently diagnosed and treated various conditions - from kidney stones to prostatitis.

Just before lunch, a new patient arrived, introducing himself as Mn. He looked to be in his late twenties, with short dark hair and piercing eyes that seemed to hold a secret. As Mn settled onto the examination table, Adam couldn't help but notice the way his slender fingers drummed against his thigh, betraying a hint of nervousness.

“So, tell me Mr. Mn”,Adam began, leaning over the chart, “What seems to be the problem?”

Mn shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting around the sterile white room before finally meeting Adam’s gaze.

“Well, Doctor... I've been experiencing some discomfort down there,” he gestured vaguely towards his crotch, his voice dropping to a whisper. “It's like... my dick just feels off sometimes”

Adam raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. “Off, how exactly? Painful? Tingly? Or perhaps... “. His voice trailed off suggestively as he allowed his gaze to linger on Mn's lap, where a noticeable bulge strained against the fabric of his jeans.

Mn's cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and he quickly looked away, clearing his throat. “N-no pain, really. Just... sensitivity, I guess. And sometimes it gets hard without warning”

Adam nodded thoughtfully, making a note on the chart making another mark beside 'Premature Ejaculation'.

He glanced up at Mn through his lashes, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Hmm, interesting. Well, let's take a closer look, shall we?”

Without waiting for a response, Adam reached for the stethoscope hanging from his neck and deftly unbuttoned Mn's pants.

The cool metal pressed against sensitive skin as he listened intently, his breath hot against Mn's inner thigh.

“Mmm, sounds healthy enough”, Adam murmured, his fingers trailing lightly along the waistband of Mn's boxers. “But I think we should rule out any potential prostate issues. Just a routine exam, don't worry”

Mn bit his lip, trying to ignore the thrill that shot through him at Adam’s touch. ‘Prostate exam?’ Was that normal for this kind of visit? He didn't think so, but the doctor's confident demeanor put him at ease.

Adam carefully peeled down Mn's boxers, exposing his erect cock to the cool air of the exam room. A low whistle escaped his lips. “My, you're quite the one, aren't you?”

Mn's face burned even hotter, but he couldn't help shying under the praise.

Adam’s hands were gentle as they wrapped around his shaft, giving it a slow squeeze. “Relax, this won't hurt a bit”, the doctor assured him, his thumb rubbing teasing circles over the sensitive head.

As Adam began to stroke Mn's length, the young man felt his resolve crumbling.

The pleasure was overwhelming, and Mn found himself arching into Adam’s touch, his hips instinctively rocking to meet those skilled fingers. “Oh god, that feels...amazing”, he panted, his eyes fluttering shut.

Adam smiled to himself, pleased by the reaction. He picked up the pace, pumping Mn's cock with increasing urgency. “You're doing great, just relax and enjoy it”, he cooed, leaning in close to murmur against Mn's ear.

The heat of Adam’s breath sent shivers down Mn's spine, and he could feel his balls drawing up tight, signaling his impending climax. But just as he teetered on the edge, Adam abruptly pulled away, leaving Mn aching and empty.

“Almost there, but not yet”

Adam said with a wink, his own erection straining visibly against his scrubs. “Now, let's see about that prostate of yours...”

Before Mn could protest, Adam had positioned himself between his thighs, one hand guiding Mn's leg up and over his hip. The other hand, slick with lube, pressed insistently against Mn's rear entrance.

“Oh!”, Mn gasped, surprised by the sudden intrusion. But instead of pain, a wave of intense pleasure washed over him as Adam’s finger breached his tight hole.

“That's it, just relax”, Adam soothed, slowly working his finger deeper. “You're doing fantastic”

Mn moaned, his head falling back as he surrendered to the sensation. Adam finger curled inside him, stroking that magical spot that made stars explode behind his eyelids.

”Doctor”, Mn whimpered, his voice trembling with need, “please... I need..”

He didn't even know what he needed anymore, only that the ache within him demanded to be filled.

Adam must have understood, because suddenly he was removing his finger and replacing it with the thick head of his own cock.

Mn cried out as he felt that first delicious stretch, his body Adam the invasion. Adam pushed in inch by glorious inch until he was buried to the tip, filling Mn completely.

For a moment, they simply stayed like that, caught in the haze of pleasure. Then Adam began to move, withdrawing until just the tip remained inside Mn before plunging back in with a deep, satisfying thrust.

“Yes, oh god yes”, Mn chanted, his hands fisting in the sheets as he met each powerful stroke.

The room echoed with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, punctuated by their ragged breathing and muffled groans. Adam set a relentless pace, driving into Mn with precision and passion, his hips snapping forward with each thrust.

Mn's world narrowed to the feeling of being so thoroughly claimed, so utterly owned by this handsome doctor. He'd never experienced anything like it, and the intensity threatened to consume him whole.

“Harder, please”, Mn begged, his voice hoarse with desire. “Fuck me harder!”

Adam obliged, picking up speed until the exam table shook beneath them. He leaned down to capture Mn's mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep to tangle with Mn's.

The added stimulation sent Mn careening over the edge.

With a strangled cry, Mn came undone, his orgasm crashing over him like a wave. His cock jerked, painting the sheets below with streaks of cum as wave after wave of bliss pulsed through him.

Through it all, Adam continued to pound into him, chasing his own release. “Fuck, you feel incredible”, he growled against Mn's lips, his thrusts growing erratic as he neared the edge.

With a final, brutal plunge, Adam buried himself to the inside and still Mn could feel every throbbing inch as he erupted inside him. The warmth of his seed flooding Mn's insides triggered another aftershock, leaving them both shaking and spent.

As the aftermath settled, Adam collapsed onto Mn, his weight a comforting pressure against him.

They lay there for a long moment, catching their breath and savoring the intimate silence. Finally, Adam lifted his head to gaze at Mn with a soft, satisfied smile.

“Well, that was certainly an unconventional examination”, he teased, brushing a strand of sweat-dampened hair from Mn's forehead. “But I think we can safely say your physical is complete”

Lets say Mn became a regular at the clinic

©️ flowerbunnyboo 2024. all rights reserved to me. please don't copy my work or reshare without my permission and credit

[ddejavvu]

pairing: james potter x reader

summary: james is an expert at your nighttime routine. basically just that i was watching asmr in bed the other night and i was like man i wish james potter was holding my phone for me.

"Ready?" James's sweet, sleep-softened face stares up at you, kind brown eyes already fluttering with exhaustion. He makes the most of his days, and he always manages to tire himself out. You, however, need a little more persuasion more nights than not.

"Ready." You head for bed, taking your place beneath the covers and letting James assume his position curled around you. His head peeks over your shoulder, rampant curls brushing your face the way your lashes will soon brush your cheeks.

He reaches over you to take your phone off of your nightstand and into his hand. You let him angle it towards you to open it with your face ID, and he navigates easily to the ASMR page that you favor. There's new videos since the last time you'd checked, but James goes for a favorite of yours, and as the video begins, you tuck your arms into your chest, curling into as tight of a ball as possible. It means James is able to hug you even tighter to his chest, and the arm draped over your chest shifts, tilting the phone slightly as he settles behind you.

"That good, darling?" He whispers, his voice perhaps even more soothing than the sounds coming from your phone.

"'S great Jamie," You hum, letting the video lull you into sleep, feeling a tingly rush already building as you zone out on your phone screen, "Just- make it a little quieter."

James obediently presses the button to turn the volume down a notch, and you let out a contented sigh as the video plays out.

"Love you, darling." James croons, his voice still barely above a whisper as he presses a sticky kiss to the back of the shell of your ear. He nestles his nose into the back of your neck, and you tilt your head slightly when his arm involuntarily shifts, turning your phone screen as well.

"Love you too, James." You murmur, sleep already tugging at your eyelids as you let your senses hum with the asmr content James is displaying for you, "Thanks for holdin' my phone."

"'Course, love." His voice is rough with fatigue as he presses another sleepy kiss to your skin, this time to the flushed part of your neck where it meets the sloping of your shoulders. He'll drift off soon, and his fingers will lose the tension that's keeping your phone propped up. but he'll fight to stay awake until he feels your own body relax. "Always."

[pranabefall]

✸ — MISC NOTICE. ; minors dni. zhongli x reader. again, some pure fluff but as an mdni blog i'm holding repellent XD. mostly silly silly stuff ihgfghj reader is implied to have studied in the sumeru akademiya. not edited!!!

"You're awake."

It's more a statement then anything else, Zhongli's arm snakes round you, steady in it's grasp. "I know you are." he adds, in a way where the depths of his chest seemed to rumble slow, slow, slowly.

You crack an eye open and stare straight at him, a sheepish grin flickering across for a moment ( only for a moment. You're incorrigible, as Zhongli liked to say ). "I've been thinking." You begin, your breath half caught at the back of your mouth. An excited thrum dances over your fingertips and you're half dizzy from the buzz and the tire. So much, there's so much, your stomach feels like it's about to explode.

"It's too early." he glances over at you with a pointed raise to his brow. "You can barely hear the birds out. Go back to sleep now." His hands are gentle against your cheek and you're almost swayed by the rumbling timbre of his voice and the low cadence. It's lulling you, but by bit, deeper and deeper.

"I've been thinking." You repeat with a little more force, lifting your head up to state your point across. You collapse back down a moment later when the room spins a bit. Perhaps you were too hasty ( goddammit ) and you content yourself with settling into the mattress and pulling the blanket over your shoulders.

His lashes flutter. There is fond exasperation there, melting into his chest and his nearly-there smile like butter. Its the most Zhongli thing about him, the tiny moments and peeks in through. "Alas." He sighs, nudging you close, laying your head over his bicep. "Tell me then."

Zhongli watches the way your shoulders hunch and your lips quirk. "A willing audience? How grand..."

"A little too willing, I'm afraid. I spoiled you so."

Your hands splay against his shoulders. He's warm.

"It's only going to take a minute. In fact, it's only a question. All I need are answers and that will only take as long as you want it to."

Ah there it is, the narrowed squint, the subtle shift and the signs of a slightly more alert Zhongli ( the Zhongli who'd straighten his back and cattishly stare at someone who dares to mention the name of some obscure historic even or little known tea ). "Ask me, then."

You fall silent, looking for your words.

"I was wondering. Is geo resonance susceptible to tearing apart organic tissue? How little is needed for it to do so, and how little for it to...not...?"

You don't think there is a sane way of phrasing that, to be fair. But you'd ask stranger things, always digging and questioning and presenting the wildest little ideas on odd days of the week. It's a side effect of the Akademiya and a lack of sages sushing you into a corner with a pile of textbooks and dry edged annoyance. And maybe the very aforementioned abandonment of shame.

"And by organic tissue..."

"Human flesh, Zhongli."

"Ah."

"More specifically muscles, tendons, bones...maybe even neural tissue to be fair. Any of that stuff."

Zhongli has the grace to not react, or give much away in his contemplation. You knock your head against his chin in gentle assurance. "You don't have to answer of course."

"It's certainly a strange one." He admits.

"It is." You grumble.

"Well..." He trails off before a breathy little chuckle trembles past. "We'll, I can't say I know a proper answer to this one. It's quite specific isn't it?"

"Horribly so. Different tissue have different densities. You can afford to be a little rougher with bone, for example. But something softer like grey matter would require far more finesse."

His hand is steady against the small of your back. "And you ask this because..."

Your lips tug at the corners. "An old junior of mine sent a letter in. The boy graduated from the Spantamad Darshan in my absence and had plenty of news to share regarding a few new experiments with elemental energy and the like." You turn over a moment. "If we could find the precise frequency needed, we may just be able to utilize geo resonances for medical diagnostics."

Zhongli blinks. It's a slow, thoughtful thing.

"That is fascinating." He muses. "So you seek to map put internal injuries then? Or perhaps tumours?"

"Yes!" You eagerly nod at that. "There are Fontanian inventors...and skilled akademics. They're calling a few alumni in to aud in the research."

Your cheek tucks into the crook of his neck. You feel his warmth and the too-slow heartbeat carefully wrapped in his chest, between ribs and flesh — made of anything but stone ( You're filled with a hunger. Zhongli calls it endearing, your passion, as quiet as it can be sometimes ).

"You were invited too." He guesses.

"Yes."

His lips test against your neck. "How long?"

"A while." You look outside, to the balcony and the horizon in the distance. Then you see Zhongli's face, his hair undone and sweep against your temple as he kisses you proper.

"Then go, little love."

"Are you sure?" You suddenly feel awful, and small, and selfish. Liyue had stuck fast to the buttery feelings in your chest and Zhongli had made himself a home there as well. A part of you wants to sneak him into your trunk, sprit him away to Sumeru. It's greedy, immature ( he's always waited for you, patiently ).

"Quite." He kisses your cheek next. "What's a few months?"

"An eternity." You grunt.

Zhongli is silent for a long, long moment. "Right now...it would be, yes." He says in the afterthoughts. "And will miss you terribly. But I've waited before, and I don't see why I cannot now."

He laces his fingers against yours.

"I'll write to you every week." You promise.

"Every week." He promises and he smiles his almost smile. You kiss his forehead. He sighs. "For now...I will say it again. Go to sleep."

"Yes, yes." You mutter, snuggling in. Zhongli tucks his hand beneath your knees and swings one leg over his waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

Let me be greedy, he seems to say.

You let him.

TAGLIST ノ join the taglist. — @silentmoths @meimeimeirin @sleepynoons @iuzas @endursent.

@jessamine-rose @ofoceansandtombsanew @chiyoso @loveliluc

[keij0h]

⌗ COME RIGHT BACK ┆ jeonghan

After a tiring session of working, your boyfriend is more than willing to ease you down, in a very certain way.

CAUTION : profanities. smut warning. afab reader. oral f receiving. self indulgent.

tap to listen !

02:14

Your eyes threatened to shut as you glanced at the time, blowing a sigh before slumping deeper into your chair. The silence was sickening, along with the pile of paperwork placed shabbily on your table that hadn't been untouched since the last few hours.

A small thud sound echoed as you laid your head down the table surface, closing his eyes for a brief moment.

Delays aren't really your thing, hence the desiring need to finish everything in one go. Though with your drowsy state, that seemed like the toughest thing to do, considering you put yourself in this whole loop anyway.

Though perhaps you were a bit too weary to even hear the door behind you creaking open. A shiver ran up your spine as you suddenly felt your shoulders being grabbed gently, making you perk up at the sudden warmth.

“Hannie?” you groggily called out, barely making out the familiar figure of your boyfriend behind you through half lidded eyes.

“Yeah, lovey?” he hummed with a vague smile, swiftly turning your swivel chair around to face him as he kneeled down, gently placing both his hands on your face to get a good look at your exhausted state.

He examined you with so much intent, his lashes subtly fluttering as he shifted from your eyes to your lips, leaning in to place a quick peck on them. “You can't sleep here, you'll hurt your back.”

A tired smile crept up your mouth, fighting the urge to yawn. “I have to finish this though. Just go to bed without me, I'll be done soon.”

“You know I can't sleep without you,” Jeonghan argued, nuzzling his cheek against yours. “Missed you.”

It wasn't all the time where you'd see him be this desperate, though you also kept in mind that he wasn't one to hold back with what he wanted. And besides, there was no way he was letting the love of his love spend the whole night slouched on the table.

“I don't think I'll be able to sleep anyway,” you breathed out a chuckle, letting your fingers fondle around his hair as he littered soft kisses in your jaw.

“Then I'll give you company..” he mumbled through your neck, not missing the way his voice lowered deftly as you exhaled — a slight idea on where this could be going.

“Baby, I'm tired─”

“Which gives me enough reason to take care of you.” he interrupts, lifting his head to face you again, his hooded eyes showing that hint of lust as you nipped on your lip.

“Please, baby?” he pleaded softly, running a hand through your exposed thighs, his thumb playing with the fabric of your shorts. “You trust me, right?”

“With my whole life.” you added firmly, nodding in emphasization. The sides of Jeonghan’s mouth tugging into a smile, taking it as a clear answer to get started.

“Just relax, alright?” he mumbled while placing a kiss on your temple, gently pushing you back to let you lean further in your seat as he remained in his kneeling position. “Gonna make you feel good.”

You softly flinched as you felt his hand slightly lift your thigh, leaning down to place chaste kisses on the soft flesh as he reached up to pull down on your silk shorts until it reached the heel of your foot, letting it fall on the floor.

Your breath heaved in anticipation, watching as he busied himself between your legs, taking his delicate time on placing open-mouth kisses in your inner thighs, the heat on your core intensifying.

Your hand found its way on the top of his head, biting back a mewl as the pad of his fingers caressed your clothed; damp pussy, gently dragging in circles, making you squirm under his touch.

“Han..” you sigh out, an amused glint present in Jeonghan’s eyes as he swirled his fingers around, his free hand tugging down on the material of your panties, pulling it off in one go.

“Always so pretty for me.” he coos, taking in the sight of your glistening cunt. You sucked in a breath as you felt his thumb drag over your folds, tenderly spreading it with his ring and middle finger before leaning down to run his tongue right in the middle.

“Shit.” you whined, subconsciously grinding your hips up for more friction, Jeonghan’s grip getting firm to steady you as his tongue pushed a bit further in you. “Oh— fuck, yes..”

He hummed against your cunt, the vibrations of his voice sending a wave of a similar shaky sensation in you. You watched through half lidded eyes as he lapped you up. He looked so pretty. Your legs were over his shoulders while his eyes were closed, leaving his mouth agape and tongue out, the sloppy; wet sounds adding more to the lasciviousness of the sight.

“S-so good.” you managed to stutter out, his wet muscle flicking against your clit, forcefully pushing his head down, your lewd juices now starting to drip down to his chin. “More, baby, please..”

All the tense agony you had earlier had now seemingly disappeared, now replaced with a feeling of bliss as all you could muster are soft moans and whines of his name.

“I.. y-you’re gonna─”

“Mhm? ‘m gonna make you cum?” he panted, rubbing his fingers rapidly over your bundle of nerves as you cried out, his hot breath making you perk up. “Right on my face, lovey.”

“Oh, god—”

Your eyes rolled back in delight, simultaneously pulling on the strands of Jeonghan’s hair, earning a groan from him. “Just like that.. ah, fuck.”

You could barely hear the small babbles you gave, finding it hard to even open your eyes as his tongue did wonders, making you feel so full despite clenching at nothing. He indeed kept his word, he’d make you feel so good.

“Han— shit, ‘m so close.” you practically begged, almost suffocating him between your thighs as you got closer and closer to your release.

Another hum emitted from him, that being your last straw as he picked up the pace of his tongue, shuddering as you moaned out, the knot on your stomach faltering while you released right on his mouth. With the amount of pleasure, you barely noticed Jeonghan lapping everything up, leaving nothing but the glistening sight of your swollen clit.

“God, I love you..” you breathlessly say, almost incoherently as you throw your head back, earning a soft chuckle from Jeonghan. He stood up from his kneeling position, wiping the excess liquids on his chin with the back of his hand before leaning over you, wasting no time in pressing a deep kiss over your lips.

It was all the truth though. You love him, and this whole image taking place was a great explanation on why. He can be a little shit at times, but honestly, he’d do everything for the sake of your pleasure. And you were in no place to complain.

“Baby,” you pull away, laughing. “I can literally taste myself.”

Meanwhile, a smirk went up to his face, not missing the way he bit his bottom lip — that was still a bit swollen from all the meddling he did.

“Uhuh?” he hummed, kissing the corner of your lips. “Heavenly, right?”

a/n : I’m feeling major homesickness rn so I just needed the excuse to write the comfort I need as of now 👊🏻 hope this does the same to whoever’s reading. <3

and apparently, I’ve reached 1k+ likes?? that’s insane and thank you thank you thank YOUUU to everyone who helped me gain that. 😽

[literarydumpinggrounds]

Minors DNI 🔞 Anyone in the mood for kinda Switchy!Tenya with a side of worship?

Thinking about the monster you’d create once you’ve unlocked the door to Tenya’s dirty mind, allowing him to let loose and experiment explore to his heart’s desire once you were officially together.

How he would find any reason to hide away together, claiming it was too close to curfew to be with friends just so you’d be left in the privacy of your rooms.

How possessive he would become, even if it was albeit respectfully.

How he would suddenly make sure to have a hand on you somehow. A hand against your back, slotted together with your hand, on your knee under the table at dinner.. it was always there. Something so affectionate, something innocent at first glance.

But you would know.

That cascading tendril of darkness— that insatiable urge —shimmering juuust below the surface tension of those oceanic irises would give him away every time.

“My Darling~

“My Goddess~

“My Vision~

How was it possible for one man to be everywhere at the same time?

His voice filling your mind just as full as your ears.. the toughened pads of his work worn hands all over you.

His mouth.

All hot breath, and swarming wanton kisses..

Your legs were thrown over broad shoulders, that muscular body flipped on his stomach as he laid across the bed. Sweat drenched hair falling onto his face in feathered, azure locks that tickled his lashes when he buried his tongue at the apex of your trembling thighs — devouring you with the passionate ferocity of a man starved.

“This body..” he rumbled, panting into you in desperation, nearly whining as his tongue dipped in and out to annunciate his ramblings.

“This pentacle of seduction, my beloved, is the pinnacle of my entire existence. Everything that I do until my last breath is all for this..” his intense gaze followed the trail of his hands, firm fingers slightly dimpling your supple flesh as they glide up your body.

He always handled you as if you were a priceless heirloom, with utmost care.

Adoration, perhaps..

Worship.

A guttural moan of satisfaction spilled from deep within his chest as your weeping hole fluttered around his fingers, beckoning him further inside its deliciously hot, sticky grip. If he kept this pace, kept running that mouth, you would be unraveling beneath him again for the umpteenth time that evening.. but you just couldn’t seem to stop him.

Not when he looked so hungry content.

“All for you~ ”

The writhing of his hips against the mattress jostled you on his face, sending a crackling of heat ripping through your belly, and straight to your pussy at the sensations and debauched mingling of sounds that were filling the room.

“Ohh~ I-..” he grunted, struggling to push past the pleasure fogging his mind at his approaching release. “I want it so.. uh~ so badly.”

Thick fingers crooked to massage that electric spot within you, mouth drooling and tongue lapping as that familiar fire inside was burning hotter.. “Pl- ease.. oh~ please!”

And hotter..

“F-Fall apart for me, _____ ..” the timber of his voice rattled the words in his chest like a growling, thinly contained beast. “Fall apart in my arms, treasure~ I’ll hold you together.”

Until the flames swallowed you whole.

“Now. Right fucking now.”

[flwrstqr]

enhypen maknae line reaction when you start distancing thempairings: cold bf!enhypen x fem!reader | genre: fluff, ot7 work, imagines, angst ish| wc: 300+ | warnings: not proofread | an: you guys were in love with the hung line ver so here is the maknae line >3< | LIBRARY FOR MORE... (hyung line..)

김선우 (ksn)

as you tried to cuddle up to sunoo, he shifted away, his expression growing colder by the second. "what's wrong?" you asked, sensing his distance. "can't you give me some space?" he snapped, his tone sharper than usual. You stepped back, hurt evident in your eyes. "i just wanted to be close to you." "well, I don't always want that," he grumbled, turning his attention back to his phone. feling ignored and rejected, you decided to keep your distance and avoid him for the rest of the evening. the next day, sunoo approached you hesitantly, "I'm sorry about yesterday," he murmured, avoiding your gaze. "I didn't mean to push you away like that. I just… I guess I was in a bad mood." you softened at his apology, realizing that perhaps he wasn't as cold-hearted as he seemed. "It's okay," you replied gently, reaching out to hold his hand.

(rest of the members below!!)

양정원 (yjw)

as you stood in the dimly lit living room, jungwon and you argued. his words cut through the air as he accused you of being clingy during an argument. hurt flashed across your face before tears welled up, blurring your vision. without a word, you stepped out, to calm yourself down. minutes felt like hours as you lay on your bed. just as you were about to cry again, jungwon walks through the door. "i'm sorry," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "i didn't mean what I said. I was angry, and I lashed out." with a shaky breath, you nodded, unable to form words through the lump in your throat. "I promise to be more mindful of my words," he whispered, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.

西村力 (nsr)

as you enter the room, you could already feel riki's usual coldness. "hey," you greet softly. "what?" his response sharp and quiet. you take a step back, feeling the chill in the air. maybe you were being too clingy. days pass, you felt more and more apart from riki. before, he wished you would go away but now..he more missed your presence. one day, he reaches out. "can we talk?" he asks. you nod cautiously, heart fluttering with hope. "I miss us," he admits, his eyes searching yours for a sign of forgiveness. "I miss how close we used to be. I'm sorry for pushing you away. with a small smile, you reach out to take his hand, forgiving him for his actions.

[aurorasgate]

eyes on me

satoru gojo x fem!reader

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, reader is described as blushing, mating press, breeding kink if you squint, lots of pet names, praise, creampie, a little over stimulation, y'all are just so in love always okay

idk what this is my pussy wrote it

satoru always loved for your eyes to be on him. having and holding your attention, seeing you flush under his crystalline gaze and saccharine smile, feeling you cling to him when he kisses you deep before sliding his tongue into your mouth and a needy murmur of his name leaving your lips in the moment he gives you air; he needed it all. 

and of course it was no different now as he hovers about you, broad chest with beads of sweat glistening on his pale skin, deep azure eyes capturing your every movement from behind white bangs as you writhe underneath him. his large hands are on your hips, helping move you up and down on his cock in time with every thrust of hips. 

his mouth waters at the sight of your essence coating his cock each time he nearly pulls all the way out of you, sticky and sweet and still lingering on his tongue from minutes before. his chest was heaving at the sight of your tits bouncing with every deep thrust that had you crying his name, the only word you seemed to remember since before your first orgasm on his tongue and fingers.

the only thing wrong was the way your arm was over your face, hiding you from him, keeping away that pretty look you gave him when he’s fucking you like this; tears of pleasure clinging to your lashes like dew drops, swollen lips that parting with the arch of your back at a particularly deep thrust, the love behind your lust filled eyes that’s all for him. he was so greedy for it. 

he had failed to realize, or perhaps he really knew the whole time and let it fill his chest with smugness that looked so good on him, at what his piercing gaze did to you. how you could cum just looking at him like this, panting for breath and fucking you so good, but whether he knew it or not, when he said he needed to see you, he meant it.

still keeping a pace of deep thrusts into your little cunt, with a gentle pull on your chin with one hand, his other pinning your arms above your head with large fingers around your wrist, met with no resistance to either, he says in a sultry tone, "look at me when i'm makin’ you feel good baby."

you do, your wet lashes fluttering open and making him melt when he sees the love and bliss on your face, all for him. he feels you tighten around him when your eyes meet, pulling him in deeper and he has to hold back from cumming right then and there. you were killing him in the best way but he was far from done with you yet.

“fuck bunny,” he curses low, his breath hot on you, heavy cock buried deep in your velvety walls. “you love lookin’ at me, don’t ya? love lookin’ at you too. my pretty baby.”

“‘toru~” 

he sees the way your blush grows at his words, loves the way you try to hide against his chest, such a sweet little thing, but he makes it impossible when he starts to thrust in and out of your tight hole again at an animalist pace that was unrealistic to keep you both from orgasm so quickly, your head falling back on the pillow with the drop of your jaw, your hair spilling around you like a halo. 

“look so gorgeous takin’ my cock like such a good girl,” he coos, sugary sweet and breathy like he was losing himself to your pussy. how could he not with how good you felt wrapped around him, like you were made for him and he you. 

you pull against this large hand still keeping your wrists pinned above you and he lets go, his hand moving to between your legs while his other keeps him from crushing you with his full body weight, rubbing the pad of his thumb in a circle over the hard numb of your clit. it lights your body on fire, the pressure between your legs begging to burst.

“ah! feels s-so good,” you cry out, wrapping your arms around his neck, the feeling of his thick cock filling you, hitting that perfect spot that made you see stars. over and over he rolls his hips so deep you could feel him in your guts and with each passing second you pull him closer and closer to you, until you were sharing your hot breaths and he could feel the bounce of your tits, the brush of your hard nipples, against his chest. “gonna cum ‘toru..”

“yeah?” through your heavy lashes you can see his toothy smirk that wobbles when you squeeze him harder before he smashes his lips against yours, groaning into the kiss, pressing on your clit harder. “fuck you’re so tight angel. s’ perfect for me.”

his thrusts grow more frantic, lewd and wet and when you can’t hold off your orgasm any longer, your cunt pulsing and gushing around him, your thighs trembling against him, he kisses you passionately, messily, and fucks you harder. his arms fall to either side of you, keeping you close and pinned to him, bending you in half with your legs against your chest, his balls slapping against your ass with every deep thrust as he’s spilling into you, filling you to the brim with his thick cum and swallowing every little noise you gave him.

“love you baby,” he nearly whimpers the words onto your lips, continuing to roll his hips slow and deep, still fully hard but oh so sensitive and unable to stop fucking his seed deep into your pretty pussy. “so so much.”

“i love you,” it felt so hard to breathe, in the best of ways, but somehow your lips would always find the way to tell him that. his love was all consuming, addicting, something you swore you needed more than air, though right now that was especially true when he was loving you like this, already building the knot behind your tummy that wouldn't last much longer against his perfect cock molding your insides. “mhm- please don’t stop.”

“never. now keep your eyes on me sugar, yeah?”

comments & reblogs would be so greatly appreciated!<3

main masterlist

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Run Away To Me (II)

AU MASTERLIST || PART III

PAIRING: Blacksmith!Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Runaway Bride!Reader

WORDCOUNT: 4.5k

WARNINGS: Blood, wounds, medieval period-esc standards for women, arranged marriage, toxic family dynamic/relationship, intentional harm (in the recent past), blood, angst, protective Johnny, hurt/comfort, pining, speedy relationship, etc.

A/N: Johnny sweaty and working the forge...that is all.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You groggily awoke to the steady sound of a hammer meeting metal and the scent of eggs. Warm bread makes your mouth water. Eyelids peeling back, your lashes flutter in even intervals as you groan in the back of your throat, content and unbothered in this soft bed of fur and cotton. For a moment you had forgotten everything that had transpired—the run and the rain slamming into your scalp.

Had it all been some dark dream? A trick? 

“Ow!” You hiss, hand darting out from the plush covers as a sharp pain darts through it. Your eyes blink on the bloody bandages, white now completely bled through with fresh crimson. 

Everything comes rushing back in a lightning-strike moment of realization. 

Quickly sitting up, your face moves all over the sun-lit room, rays of light leaking in through the opened shutters; past the glass of the windows, the nearly violent green of the near forest line meets your wide gaze. A small sound exits your throat, fingers sliding through the bear fur that had been once pulled up to your ears as you gather your senses. 

Johnny. The blacksmith.

Your eyes lock onto the small table across the room. 

As the hammering outside continues to ring in your eardrums, you tilt your head at the items sitting atop—slipping off the bed you go to tidy the fur but pause in your curiosity. A patch of blood from your wound stains the sheets and you slow at the sight, the air leaving your lungs.

“Oh,” you swallow down your slight nervousness, heart jumping for a moment as you bite your lip. 

You would have to tell Mr. MacTavsish—your brows furrow. 

Not Mr. MacTavish, he asked me to call him Johnny. A strange thing, now that you thought about it as you slowly back away and go to the table, gut rumbling at the sight of fresh eggs on bread. There was also a parcel covered in cloth sitting on the chair. 

Carefully tiptoeing, you grab the plate with a delicate hand, picking it up as you lick your lips. Had the man…made you breakfast? 

“What reality have I slipped into?” Your lips whisper, Johnny’s clothes hanging off of you heavily. Not only food but milk had been poured into a carved cup as well, and utensils placed on the table with care. Fork and knife on the right, spoon on the left; all forged and tempered. 

It was sweet, perhaps. Kind. 

You eat standing, bare feet taking you around the homestead as you listen to the blacksmith work outside. Your hands take up carved knick-knacks of animals, twirling them in a hand as you lick your lips before placing them back with all the care of a priceless possession. Chuckling at the poorly wooden face of a deer, you bring the last bits of food to your lips as you pass the window. 

Sucking in a swift breath, your body freezes. 

Perhaps it was the sudden freedom of your situation or even the want of true, honest, companionship, but you had suddenly never seen someone look as good as kind Johnny MacTavish as he worked his forge. 

The earth was still layered in dew and mist, the distance between the main home and the small hut that was holding anvil, tongs, the flame of the furnace itself, and a great number of hammers. One of which was being wielded with firm efficiency by the sweat-stained hands of Johnny—being brought down again and again to the molten form of what would be a fine sword. 

Clothed in a rolled-back white tunic, like the one from yesterday, and brown breaches, there was a leather apron tied ‘round his waist cinched tight. Lips parting, you watch with a guilty conscious for the frailness of your resolve; gaping at the sight. 

Johnny works like the dead might rise, not faltering or slowing in the abuse of the metal—twisting the rough shape of the blade and flipping it with one hand while the other hammers. How he doesn’t overheat you’d never know; letting out a slow breath as the sweat slips down his strong jaw and drips from his chin, mouth open with a far-off pant of air. 

Electricity of the same breed as last night sizzles down your spine like a finger caressing the knobs of bone, hairs standing on end as you quickly clear your throat against the burn of your face. You shift your body away, fearfully aware of the scent of Johnny’s clothes and the very bed you had slept in last night. 

“My parents will never allow me back into their home,” you utter, picking at your bandages. “I shall never even be seen in the very air near them.” 

But the true question was whether or not that was a good thing. While this freedom of yours was what you wanted, you were a woman of relative standing—having no family, no husband, and no money to your name was not ideal. In fact, it could very well be the death of you. 

You stand and lightly lick your fingers of crumbs. “At the very least,” the wood under your feet is warm from an only recently dead hearth, “this Blacksmith is quite good with meals. Such a peculiar man, hm?”

Smiling to yourself, you chuckle and push back the heat in your blood; this odd attraction to a working man. So different from Lord Wilkin. 

Not wanting to sink back into that hole quite yet, you remember Johnny’s hands slipping over yours as you take a final glance back out the window before heading back over to the table. Cobalt eyes meet yours in an instant of wide shyness through the glass. 

Staring at each other, the Blacksmith's legs shift from where they dig into the packed ground, large biceps tight as they hold the hammer and the dulling metal. 

Blinking quickly, you feel your heart skip beats at the soft contact. 

Smiling awkwardly, you raise the empty plate in display, chuckling as a wide, pleased, grin builds on Johnny’s face. He mocks a small bow, hammer going across his abdomen as his dirty cheeks peel back at his glee—you see his chest move with a deep laugh. Like the scent of lavender in your nose, you can call the sound of it to your ears as if he was in the house all this time. 

Quickly skittering away, you feel giddy, placing down your plate and taking a sip of milk before looking at the parcel. While your mind may be mingling with the blacksmith and the sweat of his body, curiosity was getting to you. And, mayhaps, a shyness at being caught.

It was covered in dark cloth, and when you touch it, the fabric immediately reminds you of a cloak—an expensive and finely spun wool dyed green. Lips parting, your hands pick it up and place it on the table; turning it over as you pull at the twine tie. 

Your heart seems to grow like a flower, the pedals opening and the stem becoming strong with a rush of admiration. 

“When did you do this, Blacksmith?” Your voice hits off the walls in a breathy gasp as the hammering picks back up outside. 

Smiling delicately, you pick up the fine linen of a chemise and the paired kirtle dyed deep blue. It wasn’t the most extravagant thing you’d worn by a long shot but as you step back and size it to your body, you decide that it was the most meaningful. 

When had he gotten up to ride into town and buy this for you? How much did it cost? 

How could this blacksmith be as chivalrous as a Knight? Not wanting you to be forced to wear his own clothes in a way unflattering to your status even if you didn’t truly care about all of that.

You had no answer, body vibrating with warmth as you slipped out of Johnny’s sleep clothes and slid the gifted items over your skin. They were slightly oversized for ease of the man’s mind, not knowing your measurements. With a small bronze clip, you situate the cloak before the boots at the door add to the already bursting emotions in your veins. 

Tears burned the back of your eyes, putting your fingers to your lips to hide the shaky inhale. All of this care after such horror was nearly unthinkable; by a complete stranger no less. 

Your own family had never been so generous. 

Taking up your now empty cup, you look to the water basin and let your ears twitch to the sound of physical labor; thinking, wanting to give even just a sliver of thanks back for this debt. As you lace your new boots, leather, you keep the memory of his calloused hands in the front of your skull with honied sanctity. 

You fill the cup and that’s that.

Cheeks heating, you bring the water with you as you exit the home, breathing down the scent of rain and pulling your cloak tighter to your neck at the slight chill. Closing the door, you make your way to Johnny who continues to work away, now a small distance from the anvil and setting the iron back into the fire to heat. 

His large back flexes and rolls with the movement.

“I hope I’m not interrupting,” the cup stays steady in your two hands as you see Johnny’s muscles momentarily tense, blue eyes turning to look over his shoulders. There’s a moment where something swirls in his eyes as he stares down at your new clothes, standing up to his full height quickly. You blink. “...I’m sorry, but besides an offer of fresh water I’m unable to repay you for the gifts.”

“Ah,” Johnny clears his throat, looking back to his forge before turning back to you with a bashful look. “Please, none of that. I needed to go off and grab more grain for my horse, see.” He chuckles. “But I’m glad they fit, Dearie, was a bit worried I’d asked the wrong size.” 

“They’re perfect,” you shake your head. “It was…far more than I deserve.” 

Brows furrow. For such a presence, he slips the cup out of your hands with more care than your husband-to-be had ever thought to handle you, nodding a deep thank you.

“Now why would you say something like that?” Your head tilts, lips thinning. You suppose it was right to make good on the deal you’d struck last night. 

Johnny takes a sip from the cup, waiting for your answer as one hand hangs from the neck of his apron, fast lungs steadily slowing. As you frown and gather your thoughts, you don’t notice his eyes narrowing, concerned. 

“Well, anyways,” he clears his throat, itching at his stubble to change the subject as you startle back to reality before you can form a sentence. “I suppose I’d better take a look at that cut of yours, then, eh? Wouldn’t want it to get infected, do we?” 

“That’s not…” He has already darted to a small chest in the corner of the open hut, cup placed on the anvil top before he opens the thing with a scratch of rusty hinges. “...necessary.” 

The blacksmith laughs, taking out fresh badges. 

“I don’t think gettin’ bedridden is in your plans, now is it? C’mon…I’ll be gentle.” Johnny winks with a smirk and your pulse flares; stuttering as he grasps your elbow—leading you out of the forge and to a small break in the trees. 

A stump and a dead firepit take form, and you’re plopped down to the wood with a small huff, a stiff look sent to the man who only smiles and raises an eyebrow. 

“Is my kindness wearin’ ya down, Little Lady?” 

“You’ll make me lose my head and I’ve only known you for, at most,” you emphasize as he kneels down and takes your bloody hand, “half a day.”

“Being generous,” Johnny hums, unwrapping your hand and once again looking you over. Bloody, but still alright. His fingers move to pick up dew from the grass and wipe away some of the crimson pigment as if an artist. “When one goes and nearly makes a man’s house crumble from the force of ‘er fists, it’s only customary for him to respect her.” Blue eyes gaze up to you and twinkle. “I’m just savin’ my own hide.” 

“How honorable,” you shake your head and turn to hide the full-face grin, moments later laughs slip your tongue. “They weren’t that loud,” your vise insists, “...were they?”

“Thought the world was ending,” Johnny says it was a fake expression of seriousness, re-wrapping your hand in clean cloth. “Damn near got to my knees and prayed.” 

You find great amusement in that, placing a hand over your mouth as your spine shakes with loud laughs. The scene is similar to the one from last night—the blacksmith offering jokes and merriment to get you to laugh. It's as if every time he succeeds he smiles just a smidge wider. Realizing this, you feel your lips twitch and you look away, embarrassed.

“...I promised you answers, did I not?” You decide to ask, deciding that getting this over soon was the best course of action; also the more courteous one. After so much giving, you had to share at least the reason for all of this. “I’m sorry.” Johnny frowns at you, tying another loose knot atop your palm before sitting back on the ground. 

On his bent knee, he rests his arm, hanging off loosely, while the other hand rests behind his back as a way to keep him upward. With all of this, with him, you'd entirely forgotten to mention the stained sheets. 

“There’s no need to apologize to me, Dearie, I won’t do anythin’. I promised you,” he smiles, “remember?” You blink softly at his strong face, those eyes studying you as your hands rest in your lap; curled over each other. 

“There’ll be no harm comin’ to ya as long as you stay under my roof.” 

Johnny huffs a chuckle, shaking his head. “Take your time, eh? I won’t be needin’ to travel back into town again until late evening.” Your hands curl slightly tighter, touched. 

The blacksmith watches you as you gather your thoughts, your face going stiff and new boots shuffling over the grass. Blue slides to your hand and his lips turn down. 

He’d be lying if he didn’t say he’d been up most of the night and working before the sun had risen—mind occupied by the woman that had been in his bed and the little information he had. Obviously, Lord Wilkin was looking for you; adamantly. 

Relentlessly. 

When he’d been in town there had been guards everywhere, checking every shop and house like beasts of metal and sharp words. You were the Lord’s bride, of course. As the tailor had asked him, a bit dejected, if he’d taken a wife as he’d bought you your chemise and kirtle, the woman had mentioned the wedding. 

“Little thing darted off during the Handfasting ceremony, I ‘erd. The Lord had only just put the knife to her palm before she yelled and fled. Oh, ya should have seen it, Mr. MacTavish. Like a bat from Hell, Lord help me. He’ll not stop till he’s found ‘er.”

Johnny’s stomach rolls, abdomen tightening as he shifts to release tension. Along the ground, his hand momentarily clenches. You hum under your breath, whispering out an easy, “Are we sure we should be outside for this?”

The man blinks in confusion. 

“Well, would…you prefer being inside?” You look nervous, fingers flinching over themselves and Johnny sits up straighter, letting his large hand carefully grasp your knee. Your innocently wide eyes lock with his own. He offers a comforting look. “It’s no difference to me—you decide. Whichever’s easier, eh?”

“It’s just,” you begin, the skin below your kirtle burning you in the best possible way. What was happening to you? “Well…My family rarely let me out.” Johnny’s body stills to a near stone carving. “Said I was to stay inside. I suppose I’m not overly used to it, you see.” 

It’s not impossible to understand the role that was placed on you. Arranged marriage, sold off to be a housewife for a large dowry paid up by the Lord. You’d been brought up to be tossed away at a moment's notice. The blacksmith’s jaw tightens, bone sharp through the flesh. 

“...Well,” his voice is a bit ragged—scratchy. You listen with nervousness in your chest, a slow infection of unease. “I’m not your family, am I? It’ll be good to get some sun, I think—let’s stay here for a little longer and then we can go back in when you’re ready. There’s no rush to things.” 

Letting you calm down, his thumb rubs a small circle before he pulls it away, perhaps realizing what he was doing before clearing his throat, cheeks alight. 

A small breeze pushes through the pines, a wind filled with the scent of fire and earth—dirt and dew. It was peaceful here, among the old spirits and the hidden trails. So different in the light than it was in the pouring rain. 

“I imagine you knew about the wedding?” You sigh, staring at your lap. “Lord Wilkin?” 

“Aye,” Johnny nods, speaking quietly. He doesn’t want to force you. “I did.”

“I was placed into the marriage two months ago by my parents, an agreement of land and money was traded for my hand.” Watching, the man’s eyes go sad, lids tilting. He stops the grunt in the back of his throat as you continue. “I had resigned myself to it, truly. Being of enough standing all I was needed for was marriage—”

“That’s utter shite.” Johnny growls, angry at the sentence. “They would just toss you away like that? To a bastard ten times your age?” 

You stare, brows tight. “I…I’m a daughter, am I not?” 

Johnny’s jaw goes slack, eyes sharp with horror as his gaze looks deeply into your vision, biceps tense with cooling sweat and dirt. Such a sight it was, two beings as different as a mountain and a valley; so near but starkly contrasted in the harsh strength of rock and the gentle sway of grassy low-land. Bears and deer, barn swallows that sit on rafters and golden eagles that soar tempests. 

The dark-haired man could never imagine raising a girl for nothing else than to be a man’s property—to sell as if a good and nothing more. Johnny turns his head away before he snaps at nothing, a low sound trapped in his chest. You never had a single choice.

Confused by his approach to this, you watch the side of his face as the man’s expression of anger slowly shifts back to a hidden seriousness. Eyes dark and his hand tightened into a fist. 

“I’m sorry, Dearie. Didn’t mean to interrupt.” Johnny blinks, shaking his head. “Hope I didn’t scare ya.”

“No,” you motion a hand. “No, not at all.” 

“Good.” He sighs, rubbing at the back of his head. “Ah, please, keep going. I’ll be quiet as a mouse, promise.” You smile tinily. 

“At the wedding, when it was near the end, they brought out the cloth and the knife for the Handfasting ceremony,” Johnny leans forward, and you look down at him on the ground. He lent a sort of silent vigor, you think to yourself. A comfort. “He dragged it along my skin and then he gripped my hand and forced the base of my palm harder into it.” 

Your words get smaller and hushed, flexing your damaged hand. “...I think…that he wanted it to leave a scar. I bolted off before they could tie the cloth.” 

Johnny stands and brings you into a hug, a hand coming to the back of your head and pressing your skull gently to his chest. 

“Steamin’ bloody Jesus.” He breathes, and you slowly wind your own hands around his waist; melting into him without even knowing it. Johnny’s scent encompasses you like a blanket, and your very bones seem to sprout flowers from the marrow as your eyes get watery, held in such a way that most people only dream about. 

When the first silent tears fall he doesn’t make a big deal out of it—only holds you more firm and sighs into your scalp. 

“I don’t know what to do,” you whisper, honest and truthful. Could you run? Go to another fiefdom? How far would you even be able to make it? No food, no horse, no supplies. 

You’d be found out in no time. 

Johnny moves back, tilting his head down to you and grasping your face with a single hand. “We’ll figure it out, Little Lady. By my word, I’ll do what I can to make sure you’ll never go back to that bastard of a Lord again.” A hard thumb pushes back your tears and blue eyes soften on you. “Can you trust me?” 

Can and not do. 

Even the simple alleviation of pressure from a word makes you care for this man even more than you should. The simmering attraction to not only his appearance but his steadfast heart; indomitable morals. 

“You, Johnny?” You sniffle, a grin twitching your lips up as the blacksmith’s face goes hot. “Yes, I can trust you.” Actions enough from last night had proven that. 

Johnny huffs and lets the blush on his face spread along his neck, suddenly unable to look you in the eyes for too long before he has to clear his throat and gaze to the side. Not knowing what overtakes you, you lightly press your lips to his cheek—feeling the heat and the slight gasp that escapes his lips. 

You giggle as he grunts a thanks, awkwardly shuffling on his feet as you both continue to hold one another. His grip travels down to your back as he raises a brow, trying to push past his beginning stutter as he speaks. “I’d tell ya that if you do that again, I might just have a fainting spell, Miss.”

“A fainting spell,” you tease, “from a kiss, Blacksmith?” 

“Aye—especially if it’s from such a Bonnie woman like you, see.” You both laugh, faces burning up, as serious topics and tears fade into the past. 

As you had said, where any other man would have been different, Johnny Mactavish had proven himself to be right and true. Even if you’d been impossibly tired last night, the small sliver of fear had still remained that something might happen to you here; in the presence of one man in the middle of the woods. No such fear remains. 

Like a great Lord of old, Johnny had offered sanctuary from a man of cruel and horrible intentions. But perhaps he’d offered far more than that, with how he’s staring at you. 

Your laughs steadily die down to a pulsing silence, hands around one another and faces only a few inches away. It’s bizarre how fast this had happened—these feelings brimming in the cup of your heart. A bowl overflowing with care and affection; of something else that cannot be named for fear it’s only a simple infatuation. A twin flame of red-hot fire that could rival Johnny’s forge. 

“I…don’t want to overstep,” the man says, and your eyes are drawn to his lips as they move—a small scar you’d yet to notice living on his chin, a stain of lighter flesh. You swallow stiffly and dart your gaze back to his as you feel his heart pounding in his ribcage. It wasn’t a mystery to wonder if your own is doing the same. “Y’should tell me to stop, Dearie.”

“To stop what,” you pull the words from the depths of your throat. “What are you planning on doing, Johnny?” He shivers as you say his name as if put under a spell. 

“Are you sure you’re not a witch, now?” You stifle a confused laugh, furrowing your brows with amusement.

“What?” 

“One half-day is all it took for you to chain me to your will,” he grasps the bottom of your chin and angles your head up; you go willingly. His eyes search yours for any hesitation or flighty emotions. All he finds is wide awe. “Most would call that witchery, Little Lady.”

“Then it seems your will is easily broken, Blacksmith.”

“Perhaps it is,” Johnny smirks, his breath puffing out along your parted lips. Your body vibrates with anticipation of what was to come, hearing his voice lower to a deep rasp. “Haven’t ya heard…? Blacksmiths have a weakness for runaway brides.” 

“Is that so? I’ve never heard of such a thing.” 

“Suppose I’ll just have to show you.” His lips are firm and his body runs hot. 

Eyes fluttering shut, you sigh into him as his hands dig into your gifted cloak, meeting him with every pass. Low purrs of satisfaction echo from his chest and make you shiver, nose pressing into his lower cheek. Playfully, his teeth nip at your flesh and you gasp; eyes pulling back to stare half-lidded as blue sparks with mischief. 

You should stop this—but you were starved for honest affection. Companionship, even. Johnny by far wasn’t the worst to throw your lott in with and he might just be the best possible to fill that role. Life in this era is fast and harsh; it’s unfair. You had to make quick decisions without thinking of the possible consequences. 

So as you blink up at the man who watches you closely, you place your fingers on the side of his face and tilt his lips back to yours with a small smile. His hand at the curve of your spine twitches, sliding along the cloak in minute increments as Johnny’s heart hammers like his tools. 

It’s as if the forge was still around the two of you—air hot and the feeling sticking to your skin like a brand of sin and forbidden magnetism. He shouldn’t have kissed you, but the hypnosis of the hammer was in his head; its rhythm and striking slam. You drew him in as the anvil does the iron. 

In this moment of contentment, there is a fast sound of something in the air, something that rattles the two of you out of your tender embrace to gaze with contorted faces through the thin line of trees. Panting and open.

Through the foliage back to the homestead is the rapid movement of hooves and the baying of hounds. 

It strikes you like a knife, eyelids moving far back as Johnny’s head snaps to the noise with something growing in the back of his expression. Calls; shouts. You know who it is, who’s found you out. You’d never heard it until it was too late.

“Johnny,” your voice says, fearful with wild eyes. 

“Stay behind me,” he says, monotone with red lips. Shadows of horses and guards are near the house. You stare up at him in shock. A kiss is pressed to your forehead. “Nothin’ll happen to you.” His eyes dig past layers. 

There was no running from this. 

“Okay,” you whisper.

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[impala-dreamer]

Who We're Pretending To Be

A Story from the YOU Universe

~Joe finds himself getting too close to one of his grad students and he fights the urge to fall completely.~

Joe Goldberg (Jonathan Moore) x F!Reader

5,019 Words

Warnings: NSFW.

A/N: If you've not seen the Netflix show YOU, this may not be your thing. Still a great story, but it helps to know the show. Also, if you've not seen the show, I suggest you get right on that because it is AMAZING.

Set between Seasons 3 & 4. Slight spoilers for s4, but not really. 

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

The classroom seems cold today, like there’s something missing. It’s distracting. I can’t quite put my finger on what’s off, but there’s a charge in the air like something’s about to happen; as if lightning could strike at any second.

I don’t mean proverbial lightning, as none of my students seem to have grasped any of the contextual undertones of the book we’re discussing, but actual, live lightning. If I opened the windows behind my desk just a crack, a bolt would sneak through and bury itself in the base of my skull. Maybe that’s what I need- a jolt of electricity, something to break me out of this fog that crept up around me and climbs forever higher threatening to suffocate me.

I think I’d take the lightning to the skull over suffocation, but we don’t always get what we want.

I’m perched on the edge of the desk when the door opens and Y/N comes rushing in.

Suddenly, all of my attention is on her.

She’s never late. Never rushing, always at least ten minutes early for every appointment, every class. She seems- off today, as well. Perhaps she can feel the imminent lightning strike as well. Wouldn’t that be funny? I find a kindred amongst these idiot grad students who can’t even seem to end this horrid debate.

“I am so sorry, Professor Moore.”

Y/N’s voice cracks a bit, which in itself isn’t very unusual. She’s one of the quieter students I’ve encountered, and the only American in my current circle of acquaintances. Her accent is faint, as if she’s attempting to hide it from her schoolmates. She’s been here a while, I can infer; sprinkling in local slang and adding letters to words where back home there would be none. She’s trying hard to fit in, but why? Why not be herself?

“I got held up by-”

I hold up my hand and smile softly. “It’s fine, Y/N. Please take a seat and try to catch up.”

For fuck’s sake, she’s only twenty minutes late, but it looks like every second has weighed her down like lead.

The others pick up their debate and I sit back a bit, cross my arms, pretend to listen. This teaching thing isn’t as hard as everyone makes it out to be. Occasionally, I toss out an idea and let them run with it. Sometimes, I pay attention, mostly I don’t. Mostly I’m thinking of You. Of how beautiful You looked at that art show, of how You gasped when you saw me like You couldn’t decide if You wanted to run to me or away.

From the corner of my eye, I see Y/N timidly raise her hand and You are temporarily pushed aside. She keeps her hand up but close to her chest, as if the very act of asking to speak is somehow terrifying.

How can someone so brave be so terrified to do something as common as speak in class? She’s clearly not a scared person by nature- she moved across an ocean to attend university when she could have gone for free back home to whatever state college she decided to attend. I’ve peeked at her transcripts- she’s smart. Not win a genius grant or a full ride smart, but smart. Why is she so nervous?

I smile and a bit of her nerves seem to quell. Her shoulders relax an inch and she smiles back.

“You know you don’t have to raise your hand, Y/N,” I tell her, laughing gently to put her at ease.

She dips her chin and then looks up with the most beautiful gaze I have ever seen. Her lashes flutter upwards in slow motion, the darkness of her pupils expand, pushing nearly every fleck of color away except the gemlike glow cast by the stained glass window over my head. She smiles and her lips shine like glass. Soft, pink, beautiful glass. I can’t look away and yet I absolutely have to. Thankfully, she speaks and I can act like I’m moving away to sit in my chair and not to get away from her.

“Sorry,” she says, sweet voice sweeping over the room. “I just didn’t want to jump in because I was late but-”

“But you have something to add,” I finish for her.

Her eyes float back to me and the atmosphere shifts. The foreboding of a lighting strike vanishes and the room seems to warm up. Quickly, I sit and scoot the chair close to the desk, set my elbows on the top, clasp my hands near my lips. I can’t stop staring at her.

She nods. “Yes. If that’s alright.”

There it is again, the tiniest speck of British on her tongue. How long has she been living here, and why? It can’t just be for school. She’s too interesting for that. She dresses to blend in; muted colors and clean jeans, her hair always swept back, face free of plastering makeup or too much color. There’s only ever that pink gloss and a gentle brush of mascara. It’s as if she doesn't know how beautiful she is, or perhaps, she doesn’t care.

Or was she one of those kids who never really got any attention until they blossomed but by then it was too late to fit into their personality?

She chews her lip nervously and shyly looks away from me.

No, she knows. She knows how beautiful she is, she just isn’t one to flaunt it; doesn’t need the attention. Or is that how she draws them in?

She’s already talking, but I can’t hear a thing she’s saying. I can hear her voice, that honey like glaze she adds to things when she’s speaking passionately, but the actual words, the meaning- I can’t follow a damned thing. I’m too busy trying to figure her out.

You flash through my mind for a moment; a sweet memory of a smile in the library when You didn’t think I was looking.

What is it about a smile that says so much without words? Does it show who we really are or who we’re pretending to be?

“I just think that love shouldn’t be so easily condemned.”

Y/N’s comment breaks through my thoughts of You and I clear my throat, straighten up in my chair, focus.

Across the room, Nadia rolls her eyes, clearly disagreeing with Y/N’s interpretation. “This isn’t love, it’s obsession. The two can’t and shouldn’t be intertwined.”

Y/N bites her bottom lip and shakes her head.

What does that lip gloss taste like? Berries, perhaps… No. Stop it. Focus.

“I disagree.” Y/N sits forward and tucks her hands below the table. “Love is obsession. Obsession is love. It’s not a tautology, no, but you can have one with the other. If you’re not even a little obsessed with the person you love, is it really love at all?”

My mind is zinging, my ears ringing. Does she truly believe that, or is it all for the sake of debating Nadia? They’ve been at war most of the semester, but this seems truthful, deep.

The bell rings before I can recenter and add anything. I give my head a little shake and stand up, the chair rolling back behind me.

“Class dismissed. Great job today. Lively, wonderful discourse.” I fake a smile at the rest and then settle on Y/N.

She’s taking her time, hanging back as she gathers her things. She stuffs a notebook into her bag and the pen she’s been using rolls away from her.

“Crap.” She lunges across the table for it, but it’s too close to the edge, too far from her reach.

I drop down at the last second and save it from a dusty fate of rolling across the floor. “Gotcha.”

She’s staring when I stand up. Our eyes meet and she doesn’t shy away, but looks even deeper somehow. A smile lifts her cheeks and my pulse quickens.

No.

She holds out her hand and there’s a fleeting second when I want to trace my fingers across her palm, feel how soft and warm she is, but no. I toss her the pen and turn, trying to get her out of my head.

I have more important things to do than become a tired cliche. Some professor falling for a student. It’s an outrageous thought, and besides, I don’t need Y/N, I have You.

I hear the zipper close and a chair being pushed in. She’s leaving.

She lingers in the door and turns back to me with a sweet smile. “Have a good weekend, Professor.”

Her tone is so genuine, so kind that it nearly knocks me backwards. I can’t remember the last time anyone has truly wished me a good time. It’s such an overused pleasantry, so common and boring, but not when she says it. Not when she smiles at me like that, with her eyes still and focused on me.

The warmth spreading through me is real as well and I can’t seem to push it away. “Thank you,” I managed, barely able to stand let alone return the sentiment. “You too.”

The rest of the day goes by quickly but it feels like forever. Two more classes, two more groups of students droning on about what the author really meant, when none of them, not a single one seems to be able to read between the fucking lines. None of them can step back and see the whole picture, capture the meaning as a universe unto itself and not just a line in black and white on an otherwise blank page.

Y/N could read between the lines. Y/N would understand the sum of it all. She would get it.

Stop. Thinking. About. Her.

On my walk home, I think about You. Wondering what You’re up to, where You are tonight. The sun is setting, dragging the sky down into a deep pink and I wonder if You are seeing the same colors where You are. Someday, we’ll sit together on an island in the Pacific and see what that sunset looks like. Would You paint it for me, I wonder…

Y/N crosses my mind for a moment as I gaze at the light reflecting off a window as I pass. Would the sunset hit her shining lip gloss in the same way? Would the pink deepen with the sky? Would she smile if she caught me staring, back away if I leaned in to drag my thumb across her juicy, pink bottom lip?

No.

Darkness has settled and I haven’t moved to turn on a lamp. I’m stuck, glued to my sofa, my hands nailed to my thighs. I keep my eyes open for fear of seeing her face, but bouncing around the room looking for a distraction is only giving me a headache. I need to get out. I need something to do. I need-

A knock at the door.

Who would be knocking at my door at nearly ten o’clock at night?

Curiosity pulls me off of the couch and I switch on the lights as I head to the door. The peephole is clouded as fuck, but I can see her outline. My stomach tightens, my shoulders tense.

What is she doing here?

Her hand raises to knock again, but I unlatch the door before her knuckles hand. I find her dangling in the air, her startled face the most appealing thing I’ve seen in ages. Her eyes go wide, her jaw drops just enough to give me a peek at her tongue. Quickly, she rights herself and shies her gaze away. She chews her lip and I notice the pink gloss is gone, replaced by a deeper red.

Everything about her is different tonight. Her hair is down and fresh, her eyes are lined in black and the color blended above brings out the prisms in her eyes. Her clothes are strange as well: a short skirt, tall boots, a blouse that’s too tight to hide anything. There’s a gold string around her throat, something old, a gift perhaps from a dead relative, or a chance find at an antique shop. She would like diving through boxes of discarded wares looking for treasures, wouldn’t she?

Or maybe I’m just distracted by her appearance. Maybe I should stop trying to pick her apart and send her far, far away.

I’m not that man anymore. I’ve changed. I’m good. I have to be good for You.

It’s been too long since either of us has said anything and the fact of it is hanging in the air between us like some kind of glowing, awkward sign.

Thankfully, she speaks.

“Um… Hi.”

It isn’t much, but it breaks the painful silence.

I smile, confused but curious. My ultimate downfall.

“Y/N. What are you doing here?”

I should say something about it being inappropriate, something about contacting me only during office hours, but she knows. That’s not why she’s here. I can see it in her eyes.

Her hands are tucked behind her back, I notice. She’s holding something, not just shoving her tits in my face, although, I can’t say that I mind. She sees that I’m looking and turns to the side a bit to hide it more.

She takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, calming herself, steeling her nerves. Why is she so nervous? What secret is she hiding? What plan has been brewing all day in her head?

That’s it, isn’t it? She was late this morning, distracted and timid because she was planning to come here.

I should be flattered, but I’m too intrigued by her boldness as she slides past me into my flat.

“I know this is highly inappropriate,” she says, the confession like a song on her lips. “But… I… Well…”

Her nose scrunches up in the most adorable way while she searches for the right words. It’s endearing and makes me want to sit for hours and listen to her talk, discover exactly who she is and why.

I’m still standing in the open doorway, I realize, so I move aside and let it close. My back presses into the door and I hold my tongue, letting her get to the point.

She’s struggling, dancing around it in her head.

I want to crack open her skull and watch the thoughts spark through the gray matter like shooting stars.

“If you’re worried you’ll get in trouble,” I say, trying to get things moving, “you won’t. I’m just wondering why you’re here and how it is that you know where I live.”

She laughs and digs her tooth into the corner of her lip. “I’m not… stalking you or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

I almost laugh. Almost.

“Nothing that nefarious,” she goes on. “But I did do something bad.”

The nerves seem to fall away from her the more she speaks and her demeanor changes. Her voice deepens ever so slightly and her hip pops to the side as she looks me over. Is she… flirting with me?

“I doubt you’ve done anything newsworthy, Miss Y/L/N…”

She takes a step forward and her lips pucker gently.

She is flirting with me.

“I hope not,” she says with a little laugh. “You see, I work part time in the admin office…”

I didn’t know that. I don’t know a lot about her. So many things to uncover, so many artifacts to dust off and examine.

“OK…” I push off from the door and take a step towards her. She counters, stepping backwards, guiding me to follow.

“And, well, I accidentally was looking at your files and-”

“Accidentally?”

She presses her tongue between her front teeth and smiles, eyes falling across my face. “Accidentally on purpose,” she clarifies. “I was… curious.”

“About me?”

Another step closer but she doesn’t move this time, letting me close the space between us by a few forbidden inches.

She sighs sweetly. “A little, yes.”

I dip my chin and look up, lifting my brows in question. She pulls in a quick breath, clearly enjoying the look I’ve given her.

“OK, maybe a little more than a little.”

One more step and I’m closer than I’ve ever really been to her, except just now when she invited herself in. I take a breath and she smells warm like vanilla, sweet like honey. The fantasy of berries on her lips falls away and I suddenly want to bury my face in the crook of her neck and do nothing but breathe in her scent, feel it invade my senses, infect my bloodstream.

Her chest heaves with a heavy breath and her eyes grow a little darker. She wants me.

“Maybe a lot curious,” she whispers, lifting her chin and blinking slowly.

Is she daring me to kiss her? Can she feel the lightning between us? Dare I?

No. She’s a student. She’s off limits. She’s not… You.

She must notice my hesitation and steps back a pace. She clears her throat. “Anyway. I saw that it was your birthday today.”

It’s not my birthday. Not my real birthday, anyway, just the one on the fake passport with the fake name and real photo.

I smile because I have to. “It is.”

Whatever she’s hiding behind her back shifts between her hands. “And, well, it’s presumptuous of me but I’ve never heard you talk much about friends or family and… you don’t wear a… ring. I just… Well, I know how hard it is to be a world away from what you know, and this city isn’t exactly kind in general, so…”

She’s rambling and I don’t ever want her to stop. Her voice ebbs and flows over me like a sultry tsunami and I can feel my fingers twitch, my blood rush through my system faster and faster.

“I just don’t think anyone should be alone or forgotten on their birthday so-” Finally, she reveals the mystery behind her back and holds out a green glass bottle. “I took a chance that you were a scotch man. At first I thought wine, but I know nothing about wine, and the guy at the shop said this one was good, so… Happy birthday, Professor.”

She hands me the bottle and without thinking, I take it. It’s not expensive by any means, but it’s the gesture that counts. She doesn’t let go right away, holding it with me, as if she can communicate her desires through the blown glass.

“Thank you.” I smile, let my finger brush against hers. “This is… very thoughtful.”

She lets go but doesn’t move otherwise. Her eyes are locked on me, her stare so pure.

I have to get her out of here.

Y/N shrugs and smiles, so confident now, so sure. “It’s nothing, really. I don’t even know if it’s any good.”

Her meaning lingers and I nod, gesture to the sofa as I start to peel off the seal on the top of the bottle.

“Join me for a glass?”

She bites her lip again and I nearly lose it.

“Love to.”

The scotch isn’t terrible but it’s not great. More like something you’d grab if you were just looking to get drunk, not necessarily gift someone you’re trying to impress.

Is that what she’s doing here? Trying to get me drunk? Surely, she knows she’s impressed me long before today. The looks between us in class, the lectures directed almost entirely at her have not gone unnoticed, but this, this is different. This is dangerous. She is dangerous.

The sofa suddenly feels too small. We sit close, drinking and chatting about life in London. She tells me about her family back home and how she had to cross an ocean to escape a misspent youth and an abusive father figure. I lie my way through a few answers but mostly, I let her talk.

The more she drinks, the looser her tongue gets, the freer her gestures. More than once, her hand falls to my knee and even though I should, I don’t push her away. Even though I should stand up, take her glass, ask her to get the hell out of my house, I can’t. I can’t do anything but stare at her lips as she speaks, drown myself in the tone of her voice, memorize the shape of her ears, her nose, slope of her shoulder. I’m lost in time with her and even though I know the clock is careening past midnight, I don’t care. I don’t want her to leave. I don’t want her to move. I want to be frozen in this moment with her. I want to die in her arms but not before…

“Professor?” She laughs gently, loose and relaxed from the alcohol. She leans in, her shoulder pressing against mine. “Are you even listening to me?”

Honestly, I have no idea what she’s been saying, but I can’t let her know that. I shift a bit, turning towards her. There’s barely room left for the Holy Ghost, as they say, but I doubt he’d begrudge me a little closeness, especially on my- on Jonathan’s birthday.

“I’m listening,” I whisper, captivated by the way she’s glowing. “I’m always listening to you.”

She squirms a bit and smiles behind her glass, takes another sip, downing the rest. There’s a drop of amber gold on her lip and it takes every ounce of restraint in me not to sweep it away with my tongue.

She pats the back of her hand against it and the moment is gone.

“Ya know, you’re one of the best teachers I’ve ever had. And I’m not just sayin’ that. You really are. I get you. I see you, Jonathan Moore. I see inside you.”

She slurs a bit, but not enough for it to be considered a crime if I touch her. That’s all I want to do, just a simple touch. Just to feel how soft she is beneath my fingers, how smooth the curve of her cheek.

Ripping myself away from the impulse, I take the glass from her hand and set hers next to mine on the coffee table. “I think you’ve had enough, Miss. Y/L/N.”

Her hand lands on my chest, right in the very center of me. Can she feel my heartbeat? Does she know how much I want her?

“You can call me by my name, ya know,” she says, dropping her chin and smiling. She’s so close that it would take but a tiny nudge to taste her. “Everyone just calls me Y/N/N.”

This is insane. She needs to leave. I need to slam the door behind her and never open it again.

“Y/N/N.”

Her name falls from my tongue like an incantation and her eyes go hazy. She leans closer, her breath fanning over my lips.

“Say it again,” she asks, nearly begging, “please…”

Fuck, this isn’t good. I can’t do this. I shouldn’t do this. I need to- Fuck, what does it all matter? She’s beautiful and interesting and smart and sitting next to me barely dressed and all she wants is me to whisper her name. What’s the harm?

“Y/N/N.”

The spell falls over her and I know it’s too late to back away. Her eyes fall closed and she leans in, pressing her crimson painted lips to mine. She exhales, pushes herself into the kiss, lets out a tiny moan.

She feels so good and it’s all I can think about. She pulls back and I lean in, needing more. My arms wrap around her, stealing her away. She melts against me, opens her lips to my tongue. The vanilla on her skin mixes with the scotch on her tongue and I’m blown away.

“Professor…”

If feels wrong, so fucking wrong, but I can’t stop tasting her, can’t stop breathing into her with every ounce of air in my body.

I let her go for a second, thinking she’s changed her mind, but no, she’s even more ready than I am.

She stands up, fits her knees in between mine and slowly unbuttons her blouse.

My eyes are huge, I know it. I must look like an idiot but I can’t help it. She’s here, beautiful and curvaceous, teasing me, undressing for me. It’s all for me. She’s here for me.

The blouse floats to the floor and she looks down at me, a hint of previous nerves returning. Her bra is pale pink and covered in lace. Something so pure and innocent covering up something I would kill for.

I would, I realize. I would kill for her.

She wiggles out of her skirt and her hips are distracting. I want to touch, to feel my bones crushing into hers, to sink myself deep inside just to see what it’s like, to know her, to feel all of her.

“You like?” she asks, innocence ringing in her soft voice.

What happened in her past that would make her ask such a thing? Who hurt her so badly, who crushed her self esteem to the point that she wouldn’t be able to tell if I was enjoying her delicious display?

“Of course. You’re… absolutely stunning.”

I can’t say more or I’ll break. I reach for her and she slides into my lap, locking her thighs around mine. She presses down on me and my cock responds, all blood and logic rushing down to push back at her ass.

She wraps her hands around my neck and bends to kiss me. Her fingers tangle in my hair, she curls them, tugs gently, testing, enjoying. Her kisses deepen and her hips roll. I’m about to lose my mind.

“I’ve wanted to do this since the first day of class,” she moans, scraping her nails across my scalp.

The sensation is intoxicating and my eyes roll back a bit as she tugs hard. Her right hand is locked in my hair and her left is dragging down my chest. I should stop her. I should stand up. I should…

“Fuck.”

Her hand sneaks into my slacks and she scoots back onto my knees for better access. I can’t even think straight as she rubs at my cock. Her hand is soft, warm, firm. I know I’m moaning, but I can’t help it. I might just die here beneath her.

Her tongue glides across my lips. “So hard to sit in class and not dream about fucking you…”

Something snaps inside of me and I let go. I grab at her tits, peel the delicate lace down and pinch her nipples hard until she’s crying out and arching against me.

“I can’t even read anymore,” she admits, nearly breathless as my lips seal around her left nipple. “Every page makes me think of you. I can hear every word in your voice. I- oh God-”

I bite down just enough to stop her train of thought and I look up to see a blank, beautiful stare.

“I want you,” she whispers, lips never quite closing after.

Fuck. This is what I was trying to avoid. This feeling, this hunger inside of me. This need to fall into someone else, this treacherous lust that forces me to act.

“Please…”

Her hand falls to the nape of my neck and it’s so delicate, so tender that I break.

Wrapping my arms around her, I stand and twist, flipping her over onto her back. She gasps and reaches for me, kissing through the shock while I tug the slacks from my hips. She yanks at my shirt, fumbling with the tiny plastic buttons, licking at every new inch of exposed flesh.

“Want you inside me so bad,” she sings, nearly praying as if I’m some ancient god on high that can make all her dreams come true.

I don’t know about all of them, but this prayer, I can answer.

I tear the lace from her hips and fall down over her, crushing her into the old sofa. Her breath stops for a blessed second and I swear I can hear her heart racing through the silence. She runs her hands across my shoulders and down, curling them around my hips while spreading her legs wider.

“Please… Please… Please…”

Her whine is pathetic but I can’t get enough. If I had it in me to drag this out, to tease her for hours, I would, but the scotch has clouded my head and the sight of her strung out and desperate makes it impossible to wait.

She inhales hard when I sink into her. I can feel myself falling but I press my hands beside her head and hold on as best I can.

She feels like heaven.

Or the closest thing to heaven I’ll ever know.

Wet and warm and tight, I can feel her throbbing around me. Every thrust is like magic, making her shiver and squirm and tighten up even more. She clings to me, nails digging into my arms, mouth searching and thirsty for more.

“Jon-”

I almost go insane. It’s not even my name, but it feels so right on her lips that I wish it was.

I feel her orgasm; her body clenching down on me and pulling me in deeper. It’s so hard not to scream her name at the top of my lungs. Nearly impossible not to stay here forever.

I fall down, shove my face into the crook of her neck and thrust a few more times. I know it’s over too soon, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

She rakes her hand through my hair, gently this time, and finds my lips, kissing me sweetly.

“Hi,” she laughs when our eyes finally focus and find each other through the afterglow.

God, she’s beautiful. So giving, so loving, so perfect in a million different ways that it’s actually breaking my heart.

I smile and peck her lips as I go soft inside of her.

“Hello, You.”

2024 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

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[sorrowsofsilence]

I Was Always Yours • 2

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Words: 5.1k

Part One

Warnings: smut 18+ (mentions of PnV, wrap it b4 u tap it pls), fluff, female/male receiving, anxiety/panic attacks, swearing, alcohol, dirty talk

Summary: You grew up with Nick Ruffilo and Noah, but its been years since you’ve seen your best friends due to them being away touring. When Ruffilo came back to your hometown, opening his home tattoo studio, you get the opportunity to reconnect with him, and Noah. Deep down you’ve always had something for Noah, and it turns out he’s always felt something for you too. Perhaps seeing eachother years later, after you’ve both changed, sparked something.

Authors note: This is part 2! Initially I wasn’t planning on doing a second part but there was a lot of love on the first <3 so thank you! Hope you enjoy this one! (With 2 scenes of smut for all of us sick fucks to enjoy!)

PS. THIS IS A FANFIC ABOUT REAL PEOPLE IN FICTIONAL SCENARIOS. I AM NOT IMPLYING THIS IS HOW THESE PEOPLE ARE IRL OR THAT THIS SITUATION WOULD HAPPEN. IT IS FOR FANFIC PURPOSES ONLY!

Noah’s back rested against the bedroom wall, the red LEDs illuminating his room. The clock read 3am, way past our bedtime, yet here I was, succumbing myself to Noah’s need.

“I can’t stop thinking about a few days ago,” he had said as I sat in his bed, days after we reconnected. I was playing on my phone while he was messing around on his computer, working on music. We had hung out non-stop since seeing each other; catching up, sharing stories, reminiscing, and just spending time together like we used to with an added activity.

“Me either,” I had replied, sitting up as my heart began racing thinking about it. What were we now? Were we still just friends? Things were not the same, things were different, but It was a good difference, it was how things always should’ve been…but was it the right choice?

“Nicks asleep,” he had said, turning his chair to face me. It was silent for a moment, as we had stared at each other, trying to read the expression on one another’s face.

“I need you so bad Y/N, you have me completely whipped.” He had said, before standing up and walking over to me: he had started kissing me rigidly, taking me into his arms.

“You need to earn your way back to my lips,” Noah whispered as he groaned deeply, his long, inked fingers tangled within the strands of my hair, wrapped around in a desirable hold.

He held my head in place firmly as my mouth slid up and down, hand holding the rest, tongue swirling around the tip. My legs supported me from below as I kneeled before him at his mercy.

“Christ Y/N, you got cheated on when you can suck dick like this?” Noah looked down at me, eyes fluttering closed before tilting his head back in bliss. His hips rolled into my face gently, beginning to fuck my mouth as his other hand joined the first, gripping the other side of my head, “Man's fucking loss,” he scoffed in disbelief.

I rolled my eyes and internally laughed, choking on Noah before looking up through my lashes, watching as his mouth hung open slightly, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. Watching the hold I had over him turned me on immensely. He was falling apart because of me.

I gagged on him for a moment longer, pushing myself as far as I could, before pulling off of him, the string of saliva following my lips.

“Fuck,” Noah gave me a breathy laugh, looking down in awe with a lopsided grin “You were gone from me for too long, you’re telling me we could have been doing this years ago?”

I gave him a small smile, “I think we have a lot of missed time to make up for.”

I wrapped my hand around him, stroking up and down, rotating my wrist, before attaching my mouth to him again. Noah’s hands gripped my hair tighter, keeping me in place once again as he fucked me.

“Such a pretty girl, letting me fuck your mouth like this,” Noah pulled me closer to his abdomen as he hit the back of my throat. I gagged but closed my eyes to keep going.

“Y/N, look at me,” Noah demanded and my eyes snapped upwards towards his own, and he watched me watch him. With his lips parted he observed my every move, heavy pants heaving from his chest, shallow grunts pouring from his soul.

“Shit,” Noah’s body began to twitch, and seconds later my mouth was filled, threads of his release coating the back of my throat.

Noah tucked my hair behind my ears, rubbing his fingers down underneath my chin, “Good girls swallow,” he said, “all of it.”

I moaned at his words and obeyed, watching his eyes glint with satisfaction and complete reverence as I sucked.

Drinking in all of him I pulled away, and Noah leaned down, pulling my chin towards him, planting a kiss on my lips. I melted into him, sighing with contentment as he pulled up his black shorts.

“I was always yours,” he said, “but you keep proving to me that I’m never going anywhere ever again.”

+=+=+=+=+=+=

“Folio, Jolly this is Y/N: Y/N, this is Folio and Jolly,” Noah introduced me officially to Nick and Joakim, the drummer and guitarist, and I immediately felt giddy. Although known Noah and Ruffilo for years, I had never met the other two current members in person; only through photographs.

I had to admit I was a little excited, because I really did enjoy their music, and therefore have always wanted to meet the other two.

“It’s cool to see you guys in person and not on a screen,” I laughed shyly, shaking their hands. Folio squinted with his eyes, his crooked tooth smile even more charming face to face. Jolly pulled me in for a shake and a hug, catching me off guard. I felt flush as his long hair tickled my face, patting his back.

“Nice to finally meet you! Noah hasn’t shut up about you.” Folio said, grinning.

Noah ran up from behind, wrapping his arms around me, and lifting me up. I squealed with my back against his chest, laughing as he swung me around, playfully, “yea, because I missed her,” Noah laughed, placing his face in the crook of my neck, still holding on to me from behind.

I held on to his arms that crossed my chest, blushing at his signs of affection in front of his friends.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this happy.” Jolly smiled warmly, “fucking goof.”

“So, you guys were friends growing up?” Folio asked as we all started walking towards the car. Noah had insisted I ride with the boys to the concert, coming early to spend time and see how everything behind the scenes worked. I told Noah I’d be happy to wait in line with the rest of the crowd, but he was taking this VIP very seriously.

“You want me to punish you if you don’t listen to me?”

Yes please, I had thought; but all I could do was stare up at him as he slowly backed me up towards the kitchen table.

“Noah,” I whined, tilting my head at him as he gripped my hips, his cologne filling my senses, “I’m going to watch the show from the crowd, but I’ll come with you everywhere else.”

My back hit the wood, and Noah leaned over me, placing a kiss on my forehead before kissing down to my lips.

“Good,” he mumbled, his hand sliding around my hip to behind, squeezing me, “but you better be behind the stage by the time I walk off at the end of Dethrone, or we’re gonna have a problem.”

“Yeah, Y/N, Noah and I went to school together,” Ruffilo said, offering me a hand to pull me into the car. I sat between him and Noah, Jolly and Folio sitting in the back row.

“Cool,” Folio said, before drumming on the back of the seat. I watched him, smiling.

“You’re pretty good at that hey?” I said, and he smiled back, shrugging.

“I’m hyped for today, I fucking love this place.”

We started driving towards the venue, and the closer we got to our destination, the more I noticed Noah’s anxiety beginning to spike. The entire time he kept his gaze out the window, hand gripping my thigh, resting his chin on his palm. His leg bounced rapidly, and ever so often I felt his fingers squeeze me, his hand beginning to vibrate.

I looked at him with concern, the smile from my conversation with Jolly fading from my lips as Noah took a brief sharp exhale, staying extremely still except for his leg. I placed my hand on top of his own, and Noah immediately stopped bouncing.

You okay? I mouthed, to which he shrugged, his dark brown eyes looking at me with apprehension before turning his gaze back out the window, the concrete jungle swaying past in a grey, lifeless blur. The boys became quiet, pretending to be preoccupied but watched; knowing that Noah was beginning to have a panic attack.

I flipped our hands, entwining my fingers with Noah’s and resting them on his moving leg, rubbing my thumb delicately across his skin. His hands were clammy but I held on in compassion, creating a soothing, rhythmic touch on the top of his hand. I rested my head on his shoulder, to which he placed his on top of mine.

Without saying anything I began to inhale through my nose, expiring throughout my mouth, and Noah eventually caught on, mimicking my breathing pattern. Opening up his palm, I ran the tips of my finger up and down each appendage, tracing the outline of his hand before circling his palm, moving from the centre outwards, before repeating the pattern. Noah analyzed my movements for a moment longer, and I sat up, turning my body to face him.

He watched me, eyes still filled with worry but transitioning to appreciation, before he closed his eyes, pushing his face into the side of mine affectionately. He stayed there for a moment, the soft breath of his exhale brushing across my cheek. With my free hand, I reached up, pushing the bangs delicately out of his face, running my hands through his hair, hoping the sensations helped distract him from his anxiety, even for a brief moment.

I felt sympathy for him, knowing that this must be the anxiety Nick mentioned that Noah’s struggled with lately. Fans have been crazy, and for someone who has always had a low social battery, I can imagine it must be even more difficult for him.

I gave Noah a small smile, before leaving in, giving him a delicate kiss of love and confidence, showing him that he is supported.

“Better?” I whispered, and Noah squeezed my hand in response, eyes lingering on me for a moment more before he let out another breath.

“I don’t know how I survived so long without you.” He whispered back, almost sighing in relief.

I couldn’t help but blush, resting my head on him again, and he wrapped his arm around me now, leaning me into his chest.

Once we arrived we were rushed into the building. Thankfully there were no fans out yet because we were so early- but I was glad because otherwise, rumours would start. Noah held my hand the entire way, only letting go once we arrived at the green room, and him heading to the washroom.

My eyes followed him as he left, the door closing quickly. I then turned to look at Ruffilo who patted me on the head.

“Nice work Y/N/N.” he hugged me, and I breathed into his chest, sighing.

Folio nodded in agreement, “Wow. I haven’t seen him calm down that fast in a while.”

I frowned, looking at the three of them sadly, “this is a usual occurrence?”

Jolly nodded, “unfortunately. Ever since the fans found out shit about where we lived and dug up stuff from his past, he hasn’t been the same.”

I turned, watching the door, waiting for Noah to return, “that breaks my heart.”

The boys nodded, agreeing.

“But honestly, we still have a fuck ton of fun,” Ruffilo said, reassuring me.

“Yea,” Folio said, beginning to drum the air, “now we get to fuck around until sound check.”

I laughed, “And that means?”

“Tomfoolery,” Jolly said, a glint in his eye, “and shots!”

+=+=

“Fuck I hate vodka,” Noah grumbled, eying the shot glass with a look of disgust, lip curling.

“Don’t be such a pussy, Sebastian,” I raised a brow, the boys cheering as I downed the shot, my nose scrunching as the alcohol burned my throat.

Noah plugged his nose before shooting it back, shaking his head as he swallowed it, coughing.

“That shit is literally vile,” he whined, chugging some juice to mask the flavour.

“Don’t be so dramatic pretty boy, you’re fine,” Jolly laughed, patting Noah’s back.

“You don’t know shit about fuck,” Noah glared, laughing.

“I don’t know shit about fuckin, but I know shit about everything else!” Jolly said, downing a shot himself, and I laughed, smiling harder than I probably have in years.

“Aight boys, time for soundcheck,” Noah said, before extending a hand for me to take. Entwining our fingers he led me with them. I had to admit this was very exciting, getting to see the process of how behind the scenes worked.

Once each section was set up, Folio started drumming, and I watched in amazement as his feet followed his arms, beginning to alternating patterns, hitting the double beat and cymbals.

“He’s extremely talented!” I said, appreciating the opportunity to watch Nick without any other sound present- just the drummer.

“Folio is a complete animal on stage.” Noah agreed, folding his arms and watching in approval.

It was Ruffilo’s turn next, then Jolly, and then Noah.

Noah held the mic close, fiddling with his earpiece, hitting a variety of notes. I watched in amazement, falling completely in love with his ‘acoustic’ voice. It was rare that I got to hear him bare, without any music.

Once they finished, they packed up, and Noah explained how the rest of the show was going to work. They were going to let the audience in soon.

“Are you sure you want to stay in the crowd?” Noah asked, reluctant.

I nodded reassuringly, “of course! I gotta get the bad omen experience.” I couldn’t help but laugh. Nick joined us, placing an arm across my shoulders.

“But- how else is he supposed to get a good luck kiss between songs?” Ruffilo teased as I leaned into him, slapping his chest playfully.

I scoffed, rolling my eyes, “he never needed those before and did just fine.”

Noah gave me a cheeky grin, “ok but now that I can have a good luck kiss, it’s gotta be a ritual now.”

I shook my head, smiling at him, “Whatever, I’m going to go get my fangirl on.”

I turned into Nick, squeezing him, “break a leg, but not literally,” I said.

“I’ll try not to or will I-“ he laughed, before turning to head to Folio and Jolly.

“I’ll let security know to keep an extra close eye on you, I don’t want you getting hurt- especially if a wall of death breaks out.” Noah said cautiously, “And I want you to be against the bar the entire time, and make sure to stay centred so I can keep an eye on you, ok?”

I tilted my head to the side, giving him a ‘really’ look.

“Noah,” I grabbed his t-shirt by the collar, standing on my tiptoes as I pulled him close to me, noses inches apart. Noah’s breathing quickened, his lips parting gently as his eyes trailed between my mouth and eyes rapidly.

“I’ll be okay,” I whispered, closing the gap between our lips, and kissing him hard. Our mouths moved together, Noah wrapping his arms around me, folding into each other.

I pulled away, Noah following reluctantly, moaning in protest.

“Good luck,” I said, giving him a reassuring smile.

Noah kissed me again quickly, before letting me pull away. As I turned to follow security, he grabbed my wrist, holding me for a moment, his eyes darkening. I watched him confused, before the sentence left his lips.

“Don’t forget what I said, you better be backstage by the time Dethrone is finished.”

A flash of heat washed throughout my body as I nodded, and Noah smiled. “Good. See you soon princess.”

Noah walked away, turning back once to give me a brief wink, and I flushed, following security towards the stage. I hopped down, standing right against the barricade.

Within fifteen minutes the venue started filling, the string of fans running towards the front, some even beginning to push into my back. I held onto the bar firmly, not letting myself be shoved to leave the spot. I shared eye contact with a security guard and I nodded, reassuring him I was okay.

About an hour went by, and eventually, the lights went dark, and the fans erupted into a roar.

I too began screaming, the adrenaline of excitement coursing through my veins. Seconds later the stage lit up with a visual, a video beginning to play. Noah, lying on a mattress with an initiation mask began speaking:

Why do you care about these people?

They don’t care about you- none of them?

They don’t even know you- because you haven’t shown them.

Black and white visuals flashed on the screen, and my heart raced with excitement.

Every day, you’ll wake up, and there’ll be less of you.

You live your life for them,

and they don’t even see you.

You don’t even see yourself.

Jolly walked out on stage, still completely dark, but the guitar riff to artificial suicide began.

Can you hear me through the white noise?

Fans screamed, bodies pushing against me in excitement, waiting for the brunette god to walk onto the stage.

The bass dropped, Folio’s drum beat taking over Jolly’s riff, as Ruffilo walked across the stage, masked, bass pumping through my ears. Fans howled again.

“Can you hear me you sick fucks?”

The crowd went feral.

Noah strutted into the stage, the embodiment of confidence and poise, swinging his arms before stopping mid-stage, gazing over the crowd, a hand covering his chest in appreciation for the turnout. His face was covered, only his eyes and mouth barely visible, as a black jacket and hood covered his body- it was almost a shame he was so modest, but I knew that in a few songs, he would strip, leaving himself exposed in that tight, black, vest top me and every other Noah fan admired.

“Can you hear me through the white noise!” He screamed into the mic, raising it in the air as smoke filled the venue, and I hollered in awe, yelling for my boys.

“Soaked in the neon glows

Silver-forked tongues talking to you in the digital snow

A glitch in the chain, a loop in the brain

You wanted to break, but you still wanna play the game!”

Noah bobbed around the stage, Jolly and Ruffilo head banging and I took it all in. The lights flashing, the smoke, the raging excitement radiating from the crowd- I smiled, eyes brimming with tears. I couldn’t help but feel proud of Noah and Nick, almost in disbelief that this was for them. They’ve grown so much, and it was entirely different getting to be part of the crowd myself compared to watching them online.

I screamed until my lungs felt raw, my throat burning, sweat dripping down my face.

All of this time sitting inside, sitting in the dark

And every night I can see why you could never stop, yeah

Lying is hard, and the truth comes out anyway

You're going way too far, gonna drop dead at this rate

Noah sat in front of me now, singing into his mic, his hair covering his eyes as I watched, completely fascinated.

There's no another way, don't let me go

Don't dig another grave today

I'll make the same mistakes, I'll never know

Who I was before I faded away into the grey

I gazed at Noah as he walked across the stage slowly, singing intentionally with every word, eyes scanning the crowd before he landed on me.

The song finished, and there was a short break, before Noah came back, jacket gone, the only thing remaining a pair of black cargo pants, boots, and that stupid fucking tank top.

The lighting defined Noah’s arms, his tattoos glistened from the sweat, and my heart began to race once again. My mind began to race with a million thoughts, but it kept landing on how good he’d look with his head tilted back as I took him in my mouth- or how much I wanted him to give me everything from behind, hands wrapped around my throat.

“What is up my friends!” Noah boomed, waving his arms, as the crowd yelled.

“We are bad omens and we are so fucking thankful to be here tonight!”

Nick hit the kick peddle of the drum kit in excitement, acknowledging the fans.

“We are gonna play an old song for ya, how does that sound?”

The crowd cheered.

“Who knows if I’m there?”

The crowd screamed again.

There are scars that'll never ever show themselves

You get when you're left alone too long in Hell

They tried to keep in the secrets that you wouldn't tell

But they just stripped you for parts you had to sell

Noah crouched in front of the crowd, reaching his arms out. He followed down the front, until stopping right in front of me. Arm extended, the body of hands around me grabbing onto his arms, but he left his hand open.

Noah sang into the mic, watching my eyes with every move. I stared up at him with a smile breaking out onto my face.

Well, if I'm there to catch you when you fall

You'll have a friend down in Hell after all

And if you're there to catch me when I fall

Then maybe Hell ain't so bad after all

I didn't want to believe how much you needed help

And I just left you to be all by yourself

And now I wish I had seen that you weren't doing well

But I just came back to see how hard you fell

I raised my arm, grabbing onto Noah’s hand, feeling my breath hasten as an immense amount of emotions washed over me. Here I was, being sung to, in front of thousands of people- yet it felt like it was just me and Noah.

His words were for me, and my heart raced, pounding out of my chest as we gazed at each other. He squeezed my hand before letting go, making his way down the rest of the stage.

There was a short intermission, and I felt my phone buzz.

Checking it, I noticed Noah texted.

‘Don’t forget what I said.’

I chuckled, shaking my head as I responded.

‘I’ll be there you dork. You guys sound fucking amazing, you’re killing it.’

Seconds later, Noah responded.

‘Don’t take your eyes off me for this next one.’

My breath hitched in my throat, and the lights dimmed inside the venue again, before the bass began, introducing The Death of Peace of Mind.

My mind began to race again, and as Noah stepped onto the stage, his eyes immediately latched onto me.

I made another mistake, thought I could change

Thought I could make it out

Promises break, need to hear you say

You're gonna keep it now

I miss the way you say my name

The way you bend, the way you break

Your makeup running down your face

The way you touch, the way you taste

When the curtains call the time

Will we both go home alive?

It wasn't hard to realize

Love's the death of peace of mind

You're in the walls that I made with crosses and frames

Hanging upside down

For granted, in vain, I took everything

I ever cared about

Noah never broke eye contact during the entire song. Despite walking across the entire stage, his eyes never left mine- and I refused to let mine leave his.

I miss the way you say my name

The way you bend, the way you break

Your makeup running down your face

The way you fuck, the way you taste

Noah ‘Look at me’ Sebastian let his fingers flow to his lips, taking the shape of a V as he licked between them, the crowd going ballistic. I felt my own stomach begin to churn.

You come and go in waves

Leaving me in your wake

You come and go in waves

Swallowing everything

Are you satisfied?

The crowd screamed again, and once the song finished the introduction to Dethrone began. I motioned over the security, who helped me crawl over the barrier and escorted me away from the crowd. As I headed up the stage and walked behind the curtain, I watched the side view of the performance, the boys thrashing out their last song of the night, all energy put into this song.

Here am I, take me to the pearly gates

So I can look you in the eye when I spit in your face

Here am I, take me to the pearly gates

Don't let 'em hit you on the way out when I take your place

As soon as the song finished they walked off stage, the crowd screaming behind them. All the boys smiled as they passed me, nodding sweatily. Noah on the other hand immediately grabbed me, kissing me firmly.

“Good fucking girl.” He said, smiling as his chest heaved with exhaustion. My face blushed again, especially knowing everyone around us heard his praise.

The crowd was screaming behind us again, and the boys had two minutes to compose themselves before going out to wave and bow. I waited patiently, watching them run out and smile with gratitude at the fans below them, throwing an assortment of picks and guitar sticks.

After a few minutes, the boys came back, and before I could say anything Noah instantly grabbed my wrist, pulling me along with him.

“Where are we going?” I asked, confused, but my insides bubbled with excitement.

“I want you in all the ways you’ll let me have you,” Noah muttered through gritted teeth, sending my heart into a frenzy of nerves. He tugged me through the halls, before finding a door, shoving me into the room.

It appeared to be a smaller version of a green room, the only things inside being a washroom and a couch. Almost like it was placed here just for us.

Locking the door swiftly behind him, Noah led me to the black letter couch sitting down, pulling me onto his lap.

I straddled him, his hands working their way underneath my skirt, gripping at the now-exposed skin.

“You didn’t wear shorts?” Noah moaned, almost instantly hardening at the realization. His tattooed hands ran along the back of my thighs, squeezing periodically, bringing his lips into my neck, biting at the skin gently.

“Do I turn you on that much?” I breathed hastily, closing my eyes, enjoying Noah’s worship over my body. He was fully indulging in me, taking every moment for himself.

“You don’t even fucking know,” he whispered, tugging the shirt off of my body, letting his lips trail across my shoulders, “the only thought I’ve had lately is what it would be like getting to eat you out after performing.”

I smiled at his words, closing my eyes as his lips trailed along my torso, my hips beginning to grind into his. “Are we— are we really going to do this here?”

Noah hummed in response, squeezing me to symbolize a yes.

“Let’s make your thoughts a reality then?” I whispered, and Noah’s eyes leered at me, completely insatiable with hunger.

His hands roamed across my body, and as I rotated on top of him, digging my core into his own, he let out a low groan, body thrusting upwards, slowly.

Noah’s hands pulled away my underwear, leaving me fully exposed underneath my skirt. “God I love the idea of you having nothing on underneath this, such easy access.”

I heard voices passing down the hall, and my head snapped towards the door, chest pounding.

“Th-There are people outside this door—” I said, pushing off Noah slightly, but his inked arms wrapped around me, pulling me back.

“Well, this isn’t about them, is it?” Noah said, chuckling lowly, “Just sit on my fucking face already.” 

Noah stayed sitting, but pushed himself deeper into the couch as I crawled up, allowing myself to be right above him, almost hanging over the couch; his breath left a cooling sensation on my skin, and I shuddered in anticipation.

“Spread your legs for me,” Noah demanded, pulling at my thighs.

“Spread them wider,” he said, and I tried, splitting myself completely for his need.

“Noah, please,” I whimpered, my body soaking for him, yet dreaded not being touched.

“Look at you,” he tskd, letting his long fingers rub along my folds, “coming undone before I’ve even started touching you.” 

“Please,” I whispered ever so lightly, gripping into the back of the couch.

Noah’s fingers danced around my skin for a moment longer before he explored my body, inviting himself into my space and causing my thighs to desire to squeeze shut; but Noah held a firm grip, forcing me against his mouth. His tongue circulated me, before he sucked, moaning against my sensitive skin.

“Jesus Christ, I love the way you taste,” Noah slapped my behind, squeezing so hard I knew there would be a mark. I winced at the impact, but my body began to convulse against his lips as he assaulted me where I needed him most.

“F-Fuck, I don’t think I’m gonna last long if you keep doing that,” I moaned, rolling myself into his skin, trying to create more friction for my need. One of Noah’s hands left my skin, trailing down towards his cargo pants as he freed himself, and began to touch his own body.

“I want you to fuck me so bad Noah,” I cried, pushing into him desperately as I watched him pleasure his own impulse, slim fingers cascading through his heat.

“You’ll get that once we get home.” He said, panting from beneath me, “I want you to come all over my face.”

My mouth hung open as my orgasm built, ears began to ring. I let out a moan way louder than intended, causing Noah to begin to thrust into his hips, his body twitching with complete craving. His breathing quickened and I felt him struggle against me as I cried out, pushing against him one final time as I came undone, and Noah released all over his taped hand, rubbing out his own desire.

I panted, pulling myself off of his face and down into his lap, sitting on his mess.

“Imagine how amazing you’ll sound when I’m fucking you senseless.” Noah’s eyes were closed as he smiled and tilted his head back in satisfaction, out of breath.

After a moment I pulled him into a kiss, and we whispered praises against one another’s lips, which was met with gentle moans. 

“I love getting to know you like this.” He sighed, pulling back to look at me as we heaved together, exhausted.

I smiled at him, pressing my forehead against his own, appreciating what Noah and I had begun to build amongst our friendship.

I kissed him again, softly, my body flushing with heat again, “Will you let me ride you when we get back?”

Noah’s deep October eyes opened with lust, staring me down once again with an immense amount of need. “Only if you moan my name for everyone to hear.”

Oh god help me

[flowerbunnyboo]

PLEASE DOCTOR, HELP ME! | back

starring: jungkook x male reader

summary: Jungkook is a urologist, a doctor that deals with penises and prostates. Little did he expect to have one of the best sex ever with a random patient on a random day

nsfw

a/n: hi ! This is inspired by the say uncle porn videos which I absolutely love

It was a typical Wednesday morning at Dr. Jungkook's urology clinic. Patients trickled in, each with their unique set of urinary issues. Jungkook, a tall and handsome man in his early thirties, greeted them with a warm smile as he efficiently diagnosed and treated various conditions - from kidney stones to prostatitis.

Just before lunch, a new patient arrived, introducing himself as Mn. He looked to be in his late twenties, with short dark hair and piercing eyes that seemed to hold a secret. As Mn settled onto the examination table, Jungkook couldn't help but notice the way his slender fingers drummed against his thigh, betraying a hint of nervousness.

“So, tell me Mr. Mn”,Jungkook began, leaning over the chart, “What seems to be the problem?”

Mn shifted uncomfortably, his eyes darting around the sterile white room before finally meeting Jungkook's gaze.

“Well, Doctor... I've been experiencing some discomfort down there,” he gestured vaguely towards his crotch, his voice dropping to a whisper. “It's like... my dick just feels off sometimes”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. “Off, how exactly? Painful? Tingly? Or perhaps... “. His voice trailed off suggestively as he allowed his gaze to linger on Mn's lap, where a noticeable bulge strained against the fabric of his jeans.

Mn's cheeks flushed a deep crimson, and he quickly looked away, clearing his throat. “N-no pain, really. Just... sensitivity, I guess. And sometimes it gets hard without warning”

Jungkook nodded thoughtfully, making a note on the chart making another mark beside 'Premature Ejaculation'.

He glanced up at Mn through his lashes, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Hmm, interesting. Well, let's take a closer look, shall we?”

Without waiting for a response, Jungkook reached for the stethoscope hanging from his neck and deftly unbuttoned Mn's pants.

The cool metal pressed against sensitive skin as he listened intently, his breath hot against Mn's inner thigh.

“Mmm, sounds healthy enough”, Jungkook murmured, his fingers trailing lightly along the waistband of Mn's boxers. “But I think we should rule out any potential prostate issues. Just a routine exam, don't worry”

Mn bit his lip, trying to ignore the thrill that shot through him at Jungkook's touch. ‘Prostate exam?’ Was that normal for this kind of visit? He didn't think so, but the doctor's confident demeanor put him at ease.

Jungkook carefully peeled down Mn's boxers, exposing his erect cock to the cool air of the exam room. A low whistle escaped his lips. “My, you're quite the one, aren't you?”

Mn's face burned even hotter, but he couldn't help shying under the praise.

Jungkook's hands were gentle as they wrapped around his shaft, giving it a slow squeeze. “Relax, this won't hurt a bit”, the doctor assured him, his thumb rubbing teasing circles over the sensitive head.

As Jungkook began to stroke Mn's length, the young man felt his resolve crumbling.

The pleasure was overwhelming, and Mn found himself arching into Jungkook's touch, his hips instinctively rocking to meet those skilled fingers. “Oh god, that feels...amazing”, he panted, his eyes fluttering shut.

Jungkook smiled to himself, pleased by the reaction. He picked up the pace, pumping Mn's cock with increasing urgency. “You're doing great, just relax and enjoy it”, he cooed, leaning in close to murmur against Mn's ear.

The heat of Jungkook's breath sent shivers down Mn's spine, and he could feel his balls drawing up tight, signaling his impending climax. But just as he teetered on the edge, Jungkook abruptly pulled away, leaving Mn aching and empty.

“Almost there, but not yet”

Jungkook said with a wink, his own erection straining visibly against his scrubs. “Now, let's see about that prostate of yours...”

Before Mn could protest, Jungkook had positioned himself between his thighs, one hand guiding Mn's leg up and over his hip. The other hand, slick with lube, pressed insistently against Mn's rear entrance.

“Oh!”, Mn gasped, surprised by the sudden intrusion. But instead of pain, a wave of intense pleasure washed over him as Jungkook's finger breached his tight hole.

“That's it, just relax”, Jungkook soothed, slowly working his finger deeper. “You're doing fantastic”

Mn moaned, his head falling back as he surrendered to the sensation. Jungkook's finger curled inside him, stroking that magical spot that made stars explode behind his eyelids.

”Doctor”, Mn whimpered, his voice trembling with need, “please... I need..”

He didn't even know what he needed anymore, only that the ache within him demanded to be filled.

Jungkook must have understood, because suddenly he was removing his finger and replacing it with the thick head of his own cock.

Mn cried out as he felt that first delicious stretch, his body welcoming the invasion. Jungkook pushed in inch by glorious inch until he was buried to the tip, filling Mn completely.

For a moment, they simply stayed like that, caught in the haze of pleasure. Then Jungkook began to move, withdrawing until just the tip remained inside Mn before plunging back in with a deep, satisfying thrust.

“Yes, oh god yes”, Mn chanted, his hands fisting in the sheets as he met each powerful stroke.

The room echoed with the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, punctuated by their ragged breathing and muffled groans. Jungkook set a relentless pace, driving into Mn with precision and passion, his hips snapping forward with each thrust.

Mn's world narrowed to the feeling of being so thoroughly claimed, so utterly owned by this handsome doctor. He'd never experienced anything like it, and the intensity threatened to consume him whole.

“Harder, please”, Mn begged, his voice hoarse with desire. “Fuck me harder!”

Jungkook obliged, picking up speed until the exam table shook beneath them. He leaned down to capture Mn's mouth in a searing kiss, his tongue delving deep to tangle with Mn's.

The added stimulation sent Mn careening over the edge.

With a strangled cry, Mn came undone, his orgasm crashing over him like a wave. His cock jerked, painting the sheets below with streaks of cum as wave after wave of bliss pulsed through him.

Through it all, Jungkook continued to pound into him, chasing his own release. “Fuck, you feel incredible”, he growled against Mn's lips, his thrusts growing erratic as he neared the edge.

With a final, brutal plunge, Jungkook buried himself to the insides and still Mn could feel every throbbing inch as he erupted inside him. The warmth of his seed flooding Mn's insides triggered another aftershock, leaving them both shaking and spent.

As the aftermath settled, Jungkook collapsed onto Mn, his weight a comforting pressure against him.

They lay there for a long moment, catching their breath and savoring the intimate silence. Finally, Jungkook lifted his head to gaze at Mn with a soft, satisfied smile.

“Well, that was certainly an unconventional examination”, he teased, brushing a strand of sweat-dampened hair from Mn's forehead. “But I think we can safely say your physical is complete”

Mn chuckled weakly, still reeling from the intensity of their encounter. “I suppose that's one way to ensure a thorough check-up”, he agreed, his voice tinged with amusement and something warmer.

Jungkook's expression turned tender as he cupped Mn's cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of his jaw. “And I have to say, I'm rather glad our paths crossed today”, he murmured, his eyes searching Mn's face.

Mn's heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in Jungkook's words, and the gentle affection in his touch. He found himself wanting to lean into it, to bask in the afterglow of their passionate encounter and explore these new feelings blossoming between them.

“I am too”, Mn admitted softly, his hand coming up to cover Jungkook's where it rested on his cheek. “This was more than just a physical exam, wasn't it?”

Jungkook nodded, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “Definitely. And I think we both know this isn't the last time we'll be seeing each other”

Mn's pulse quickened at the implication, a thrill of excitement mixed with a dash of nervousness.

“So, what do you say?”, Jungkook asked, his voice low and inviting as he rolled off Mn and sat beside him on the exam table. “Want to grab some dinner together? Maybe get to know each other a little better outside of the doctor patient relation?”

Mn considered the offer, his mind already racing with possibilities. A date with Jungkook sounded incredibly appealing, but he also knew he should probably slow down and not rush into things.

Still, the memory of their intense coupling lingered, making it difficult to think clearly. “I'd like that, he finally replied, deciding to take a chance on this unexpected connection.

Jungkook's face lit up with a radiant smile, and he reached out to squeeze Mn's shoulder. “Great! I know a really nice Italian place not far from here. How about we meet there at 7 pm?”

Mn nodded, already looking forward to their evening plans. As he started to gather his clothes, Jungkook helped him tidy up the mess they'd made, their fingers occasionally brushing in a way that sent pleasant shivers down Mn's spine.

Once everything was in order, Jungkook walked Mn to the door, his arm casually slung around the smaller man's shoulders. “I'll see you tonight, then”, he said, pressing a lingering kiss to Mn's temple.

Mn felt his cheeks heat at the gesture, but he smiled contentedly, already anticipating the warm glow of their budding relationship. “Looking forward to it,” he replied, stepping out into the hallway and waving goodbye as Jungkook closed the door behind him.

©️ flowerbunnyboo 2024. all rights reserved to me. please don't copy my work or reshare without my permission and credit

[shirefantasies]

Sweet Spot- Boromir x Reader

Warnings: teensy bit suggestive

Lie down was the echo of your every thought, even as your gaze was pierced by blue at the lady Galadriel’s stare, even as your heard her whisper into those dark crevasses about the fear and apprehension held deep in your heart, your own personal insecurities amplified by your beloved wizard companion’s fall. If Gandalf had failed, after all, what if you were not enough? Your exhausted mind posed, and if so, would the man you’d come to love on your journey tire of you? Find you short of the glory amidst which he was raised, unfit for great white halls and soaring towers? Perhaps you were simply out of place.

You are exhausted, the Lady of Lórien’s voice echoed once more through your mind with a flutter of her golden lashes, such times change many a thought. Go to him. He will show you every answer and more. Perhaps he shall benefit from your presence as well.

At that, your gaze fell from the Lady’s small smile, drifting out to the smattering of ancient trunks, each one extending to the heavens with its spreading green hands. Steps spiraled up most of them, but your hollow met the earth, carven as it was into the tree’s base.

With one final nod Galadriel’s way, you accepted her wisdom and strode softly across the damp ground and fallen leaves to one of the hollows. To your luck, you had chosen the one in which Boromir reclined, and when he caught sight of you a smile broke across his face, striking some tension out of your muscles with the shock of joy. Extending an arm, Boromir beckoned you closer, and you quickly obeyed, dropping down to his side upon the cushions that filled the hollow.

“A rare luxury,” he commented, wrapping an arm around you the moment you settled into him, your back to his chest, “is this not? Here we are, clean and safe again in a bed no less! Well, a bed of sorts.”

You’d traveled with the man enough to recognize when his tone opened itself up to coloring with false cheer, and despite his warm embrace this was one of those times. His words hardly struck your ears for all your concern.

“What is the matter? Did something happen? Or is it just...everything?" You did not dare speak the wizard's name. Not yet.

"All the words the Lady spoke," Boromir replied, body deflating against yours, "she spoke to me of Gondor falling, about my father, and though she told me not to lose hope, how can I not?"

"Lady Galadriel spoke into the pits of my worry as well," you rotated in his hold to face him properly, his forehead hitting yours immediately, “but she also reminded me that our exhaustion changes many a thought. Whether it is true in your eyes or not, you are a great man and just as well a son. I see it in the way you care for the hobbits and all you meet. You may feel you can get no rest here in these woods, but please try. For me. For Frodo and the others.”

“Your words are true and sweet as your heart. What would I do without you?” Boromir’s breath fanned your face, his arms snaking even further about you as his smile began creeping back.

“They were not my words alone.”

“Oh, but from who else would I have taken them?” Shaking his head and whispering your name, Boromir pressed his lips just beneath your ear. “I shall rest indeed if only you stay here with me. I need you.”

Another kiss, this time down to your collarbone. "Please."

Of course he needn't ask you twice. Swallowing, you simply nodded your response, tilting your head for access as Boromir's lips traveled back up your neck. Minutes passed like moments as your beloved nuzzled you, nose and lips warm against you; he held you there in relish of your skin and you welcomed it even as you teased him.

"Is this what you call a rest?" You breathed, grinning wickedly. "Will you sleep like this, then?"

"Believe me," he smiled, "the feeling of you in my arms is all the rest I could ever desire."

Your heart somehow leapt and quieted at that, all its sinking ceased at words so soothing...and so heating, too. Much as you doubted yourself, it was true that in Boromir's arms you felt to be enough. More than, you reflected as he smoothed your hair and kissed your forehead.

“I confess I lost hope for a moment too,” you told him, “I wondered how I could survive this if Ga- if others could not. How I might live up to all those I love, and yet now I see.”

“What is that? What do you see?” Boromir’s green eyes peered at you intently, pupils wide and shining and brows furrowed slightly in concern.

Smiling softly, you reached up to trace the lines of his cheek with your hand, soft skin and rough stubble alike brushing the back of it.

“We all carry this same burden in one way or the other. And yet when we let ourselves be seen there it goes again. We fall when abiding by our own strength only- I have yours as you have mine.” Your hand slid further down, smoothing the front of Boromir’s tunic and then grasping his.

With that, he brought your joined hands to his lips. “Well said. You see? That is why I love you. Why I need you.”

“And I love you,” you replied breathily between Boromir’s rapid pecks, giggling as he went right back to lavishing attention upon the sweet spot on your neck, “I need you just as well. My captain of the white tower. My strength, my guardian.”

“My heart,” Boromir shot back, stopping his barrage to rest in the crook of your neck and shoulder, finally settling down; his heart began to slow beneath your hand, still firmly grasped in his against his chest, “shall we now rest?”

“We shall,” you replied with a grin, leaning on him and reclining all the way upon the blanketed floor, “sweet dreams, love.”

“Only such now that you are by my side.”

“I will never be found anywhere else,” you whispered, pressing one final kiss to the crown of Boromir’s head, heart soothed as it beat in time with his.

Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn @wordbunch @tiny-and-witchy @th3-st4r-gur1 @fleurdemiel-145 | Message/Reply/Ask to join 🥰

[d6volution]

Ringmaster.

Chapter 2, Proclamation.

Caine/Reader. | Fem alinged.

Rating: Explicit.

tag: chair sex, mirror sex, choking, aphrodisiacs, caine has a big di—, nipple play.

minors dni.

You could still feel him holding your body flush to his chest, hand running along your waist and just beneath the curve of your heavy breast. He silently watched you come down from your previous high. Thinking of what to do next. He could feel your body threatening to go limp against him. Now this certainly wasn't the time for shut eye!

"None of that my dear, open your eyes!" He lightly tapped your face, and your lashes fluttered.. it seemed your first orgasm drained you more than expected, perhaps he should have eased up on the 'aphrodisiacs'. No matter.

The rest of your clothes were stripped away, and the cool air helped you come to. But your body was still practically on fire, and god did you need him to touch you again.. but bit your tongue. Fighting against the urge to admitting to something so embarrassing.

"[Censor]...." You whined, and just like clock work Caine's baton whacked at your bare thighs before gently rolling along the little welt that began to appear. "Language my dear! Hmmn.. and how are we feeling down here?" The ball of his baton gently nudged and rubbed at that tender little pearl in-between your legs. You yelped and jerked against the sensation, back arching a little. "Just as I thought ! Even if you don't want to admit it's clear your body craves more! And why not give it all it needs and then some hmm?" His voice seemed to drop an octave at the end of his sentence.

That made your legs squeeze together.

"But.. Caine.." You huffed, attempting to adjust yourself in his arms but be took over. Snapping his fingers and you both were now in his floating chair. "C.. Caine, get us down..! Please.. th.. this isn't the time for your tricks..!" Your voice was still trembling and laced with need, but you clung to his suit jacket. Not that you were dangerously high in the air, but in the air nonetheless.

The ringmaster ignored your pleas and instead made sure you sat prettily on his lap, holding you firmly by the waist.. with your back against his chest. Just then you could feel something poking you through his black pants.. Caine tuts at your feeble attempt at back talk, "Look. just in front of you dear. How can you deny it when you're still making such a mess of yourself!" You looked up from the ground, and was faced with a tall and wide mirror. There you were , naked in this new obscene body you almost forgot you had.

You immediately attempted to cover yourself and Caine stopped you in your tracks. He placed your legs atop his own and used this advantage to spread them wide, "My, my look at you ! You're practically dripping..!" He said with delight, his hips unconsciously rolling up against your bare ass. You could feel him throbbing against you. "S..So willing and eager to take me.. Oh, you were certainly made just for me my dearest Y/N!" He spoke while both his hands started to caress your tender breasts again. Pinching and tugging at your tender nipples. The man was quite literally drooling over your body. 

He grinded into your ass as he tweaked and toyed with your nipples until they were raw and your eyes were beginning to get glossy.

"N..Not so hard Caine.." Your mind was spinning, just the stimulation of your nipples made your cunt clench around nothing, it was like electricity throughout your body. Too bad Caine was blinded by his own lust to hear care for your pleas, "Worry not, Y/N.. I have just the thing to make you keep that pretty mouth singing for me!" One hand released your breast and got to work undoing his pants. His shaft flung to life in between your legs, standing tall and proud. 

Your body had a physical reaction just to seeing his member, how would it react when it was inside..? If that thing could even fit in the first place.

Naturally you began to squirm in his lap, was it out of fear? eagerness? you couldn't tell the two feelings apart anymore. 

"Now, I know what you're thinking! And I assure you, it will fit!" He reached around your waist and grabbed the base of it rubbing it along your slit. Shuddering behind you as he breathed like some kind of animal on your neck. 

"Too big Caine, won't fit.." You still whined, and his hand that once caressed your chest was now ghosting along your neck. "Oh, my dear, but it will." His tip was pushing against your entrance, you could feel the resistance, his dick was just too girthy. How could anyone be so big!? 

Naturally your legs spread wider, your body wanted this.. needed it, so it was determined to make just that happen, "Nnnh, pleasepleasepleaseplease...!" You begged and hooded eyes watched him bully his way into your tight hole through the reflection of the mirror. As his tip finally pushed past your puffy lips and sunk into your heat, your mouth hung open, bliss trickling through your body. "M.. More please.." It was just a whisper. But the eerily quiet Caine still heard your pathetic plea and he did just that, sinking himself further into your heat. Inch by inch he disappeared into your fluttering cunt. 

You were so focused on the pressure in your cunt you almost forgot didn't realize just how quiet Caine had gotten since he entered you, your gaze shifted to the reflection of Caine in front of you. He was trembling, pupils dilated into a sea of black, he was clearly trying so hard to hold himself back it seemed, this was the quietest you've ever seen him. It was as scary as it was attratctive. 

Somehow, he noticed your gaze without shifting his own and took this chance to thrust the final few inches inside of you and it caught you off guard just as he suspected it would. Pulling a delicious scream from your lips. "Aaah!! Nnh.. so, deep.. nnh.." You panted out, but this stuff coursing through your body was impatient. Sure, you were full of dick. Sensitive as could be, and being fucked in front of a mirror by the ring leader, but it still wanted more. Like he said it needed to be satiated. "Please, mov- hhck!" His hand already near your neck, grabbed it rather tightly. You gasped scrambled, but tightened so nicely on his dick that he moaned into your ear without warning. 

You could just barely breathe, he was very careful about his hand placement to make sure of it. "What a change of heart you've had my dear," He said while moving his hips back, before slamming them upwards into your tight cunt. Another strangled gasp escaped your lips, hands clawing at this sleeve, but to no avail.

Over over and over.

He slammed into your cunt without another, word. Soon enough letting go of your throat to grab your hips and steady them, pulling them towards him as he thrusted forward, hitting so deeply that you were seeing stars. There were no more words from you, just incoherent babbles and pleas as you barely caught your breath. You don't know how you were able to hold on this long to begin with, but your climax was approaching already. You couldn't help it, every touch from him made you react so strongly, so his constant pounding was just too much for you to handle without; "C-Cumming, cumming..!" You managed to sputter out, drool rolling down the side your lips. 

"That's right dear, nh- cum as many times as you please!" His usual announcer voice was beginning to show its cracks, he was just as far gone as you. But his hips were still going full force, slapping against your own in such an obscene manner- and not slowing any signs of stopping. "H-Hhaa.. too much, Caine..!" You yelped, you body was buzzing. 

He yanked your hips back down as you unconsciously began to pull away from him. "No, no no! You'll stay r-right here! Ah.." He grunted, dick still digging into the most sensitive parts of your overstimulated hole. "You can go longer, Y/N I know you can, that's it..!" He said with full confidence, completely drunk on your pussy. 

Your mind was going blank, you could only think about how good he felt.. so overwhelming good.. 

Your body locked up again, clamping down on his shaft and causing his hips to stutter a little at the sudden tightness. "Al-Almost there my dear, almost...!" His hips were moving like a blur, his hands bruising your hips with his grip as finally spilled himself into your cunt. "Ah.. there.. so nicely done.." He praised as his hips lazily  thrusted in and out of you. "How about another go my dear?" He said but you didn't respond, and patted your face like before you were taken by sleep. Exhaustion from this session and the aphrodisiacs combined was entirely too much for you. But the lazy and tired smile plastered on your sleeping face was also very telling.

"Oh my! Well, we better get this one cleaned up and ready for bed!" He had to ignore his cock which was still throbbing in between his legs, but now nicely tucked away in his pants. Not to worry, he'll make sure you pay for leaving him with this ache in between his legs, just as soon as he lets you recover from this little adventure. Annddd only three tallys on the board? He'd have to go easy on the aphrodisiacs next time! He scolded himself, as he carried you carefully to the restroom to clean you up himself.

After all, it most certainly won't be the last time you two go on this special little adventure. 

[akimoroll]

give it a bone.

nagumo x fem reader—college au—wc 2k—part of a series on ao3

a/n: i was in a writing mood and I TERRIBLY MISS THE BLORBO 🥲 lmao

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Nagumo leaned closer to your side, whispering, “Where’d you go last time?”

Unbothered, you responded quietly, “Please, focus on the subject at hand and refrain from asking irrelevant questions.”

“You made a run for it as soon as I opened the door,” he quipped in amusement.

Ignoring him was the best course of action, you continued the conversation about the subject matter at hand and focused on tutoring him instead.

He observed you intently, studying the way your lashes fluttered as your eyes danced across the page. His gaze then lingered upon your lips, reminiscing how soft it was when he kissed you two days ago.

With a soft touch, he gently tucked strands of hair behind your ear, “What happened to your other self?” he inquired, his voice a gentle whisper.

You jerked away from his touch, your expression hardening into a glare.

“Don't touch me,” you replied, shifting your gaze away, “If you're insinuating I have a twin, I came out of the womb alone.”

He struggled to suppress a chuckle, disguising it with a cough. He let out a sigh before continuing, “Multiple personalities perhaps? Where’s the one who kissed me back?”

You brightened up and clasped your hands together, turning to face him directly, “Listen closely, Nagumo. That kiss holds no significance. There are times when human emotions, including lust, can overpower us. It was a moment of weakness on my part. I don’t resonate with that version of myself anymore. Let’s refrain from discussing it further.”

He stumbled backwards, feigning surprise. In a dramatic manner, he clutched at his chest, exclaiming, “Whoa? Whoa! Hold on… I wasn’t familiar with your game. I didn’t take you for a player.”

“What are you…” You stood up, your expression hardening into a scowl, “Ah, no. Never mind, time’s up. See you tomorrow.”

“Oh, by the way,” he interjected with a smirk, his eyes following your every move as you packed your bag, “I need my jacket back.”

“I'll bring it tomorrow,” you agreed, pausing for a moment before extending your palm, “And while we're at it, you can add paying for ruining my blouse to the list.”

He grumbled and leaned back on his seat, retorting, “Just sew the button back on. I need my jacket today.”

You crossed your arms, your eyebrows furrowing from irritation, “You’re so unbelievably cheap… I left it at my room, and I have a class to attend in ten minutes.”

“See you after your class, then?”

“What for? I’ll bring it tomorrow.”

“Nuh-uh. I told you I need it today.”

You glanced at the clock, realizing you will be late if you continue arguing, and the way he’s grinning with satisfaction is only making you angrier. With a look of disdain, you turn and walk away, retorting, “Have fun waiting.”

The day had gone by smoothly, but something felt missing—you hadn't spotted Nagumo between your classes. He hadn’t sent his usual chat stickers either. You shrugged it off, only to discover him waiting for you outside your dorm building when you returned. Ignoring him, you walked past him, and he followed closely behind.

“You're not allowed inside,” you protested, a hint of irritation in your voice.

“No problem,” he responded, waving off your concern.

“You're going to get me in trouble,” you warned, your voice growing more exasperated.

“I said I got it,” he insisted, grinning at you.

“You know, you're not only cheap, you're also corrupt,” you grumbled.

He burst into a hearty laughter.

“What's so funny?”

He patted your head, finding your frustration adorable.

There was no use in continuing to argue, and you had already wasted valuable time and energy, so you decided to just go along with it. As you walked down the hall toward your room, it seemed as if he knew every girl on your floor, prompting you to roll your eyes in annoyance.

“Wait here,” you ordered, your voice firm.

“No can do,” he responded, a hint of mischief in his tone, “I might get caught loitering.”

“I thought you had it under control?” Feeling skeptical, you raised an eyebrow.

“Just let me in, please?” he pleaded with a pout, his eyes widening in a puppy-dog expression.

Under normal circumstances, your roommate would typically be lounging around at this time, so there would be no issue with the two of you being alone. However, tonight was an exception.

Reluctantly, you held the door open for him, gesturing with your hand, “Stay by the door.”

He ignored your request and strolled right in as if he owned the place, taking a seat on your bed.

“Is this how you treat your guest?” he asked, feigning offense.

“You're not my guest,” you asserted, your tone stern, “Pest would be a better term. And get off my bed with your outside clothes.”

You tossed his jacket onto his lap with a huff. He chuckled, slipping it on, before teasing you, “Where are the snacks?” he jested, “Ah, I mean, your blouse. I'll fix it for you.”

“I was joking,” you clarified, “You can leave now.”

“Yeah, your jokes aren't funny. I just got here,” he retorted, settling back comfortably onto your bed with his arms folded behind his head, clearly showing he had no intention of leaving.

“Hey, get off,” you exclaimed, trying to pull him away. However, in a swift move, he pulled you back, causing you to stumble and fall right onto him.

“Got youuu!” he exclaimed, trapping you in a tight embrace and laughing heartily. He eventually released you, allowing you to squirm out of his arms.

“You're so annoying!” you huffed, standing in front of him, your chest heaving with exertion.

“Why?” he taunted, his laughter ringing through the air, “Are you that afraid of lusting over me?”

“Excuse me?” you retorted, your voice dripping with disbelief, “Me? Lust over... you?”

He sat up, wiping away his tears as he recovered from his fit of laughter.

“Those were your words, not mine,” he replied, a smirk playing on his lips.

“I wasn't talking about me!” you protested, your voice rising in frustration, “I was talking about you!”

He sported a sly grin as he stood up and sauntered closer to you, “Oh, I see,” he murmured, a hint of smugness in his voice, “You thought I was lusting over you.”

“Hey, stay back,” you retorted, pointing up a hand in warning, “I'll report you.”

He chuckled and ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, “You're blocking the door…” he observed, a smirk playing at his lips, “Unless you want me to stay?” he added, feigning nonchalance.

“No no no,” you protested, attempting to open the door. But he slammed it shut, trapping you inside with him.

Ah, what is it with doors and this guy? I’ve seen this happen before—you thought.

“We're not done talking,” he stated firmly.

You folded your arms and demanded, “I am. Get out of the way, you beanpole!”

He leaned down and brought his face closer to yours, his voice dropping to a quiet whisper, “Better?”

He was so close, crowding into your personal space, making it difficult for you to focus.

He’s like a dog. I throw him a bone and he leaves me alone—those were your thoughts while gazing at him.

“You're staring again,” he pointed out, letting your name roll off his tongue like a coo.

You tilted your head to the side, studying his face intently, “No. It's your face…” you replied, your tone holding a hint of wonder.

His face lit up as he asked, “You think I'm handsome?”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt a flutter in your chest. Must be the coffee, you reasoned, trying to shake off the sensation.

“Yeah, you have a handsome face,” you admitted, your voice softer than usual.

“Aww, so it's working?" he teased, a smirk playing on his lips, “Is your other personality coming out? Here, kitty, kitty.”

At his words, your frown faltered for a moment, and he caught it instantly, “There she is,” he murmured, his voice holding satisfaction.

You looked up at him, your heart hammering in your chest at your own suggestion, “Alright, just one,” you stated firmly, holding up a finger, “One kiss, and then you leave.”

He was stumped, unable to come up with a witty response like usual. His initial intention had been to just tease, but your unexpected proposition was spoken with much seriousness made it endearing. How could he say no?

He nodded, a soft smile forming on his lips, “Deal,” he agreed, bringing his face closer to you.

You reached up and grabbed his face, pulling him closer to you for a kiss. The familiar taste of him flooded your senses once again.

He licked your lips, prodding you to open your mouth, and you obliged. His tongue swept across your lips, wiping away any remnants of your lip gloss, making you only sweeter on his tongue.

He kept his hands on either side of your head, pressing you against the door as he kept it shut.

Despite wanting to touch you, he held back, learning from last time not to push his luck too far. He wanted to stay within your good side.

You pushed his face away from you, gasping for air, and said, “There. Now get out.”

He was momentarily taken aback by your assertiveness, it only fueled his desire for more. He was about to go in for another kiss when your roommate pushed open the door, exclaiming, “Yo, why is the door so heavy...?”

The intruder's eyes landed on the two of you tangled up together, her voice trailed off as she addressed Nagumo, “Oh, Nacchan?”

There was an awkward silence as the three of you exchanged glances, each knowing what had just transpired.

Your roommate inquired, “Was I interrupting something?”

He shook his head, a smile on his face as he looked at you, “Nah, I was just leaving,” he said.

He gave a casual nod before exiting the door, “See you tomorrow.”

Your roommate trailed after you to your desk, a puzzled expression on her face, “What was that? The vibe was so…” she questioned, trying to figure out the atmosphere.

You swiveled around to face her, curiosity in your eyes, “Why did you call him 'Nacchan'?”

Your roommate explained, “That's his nickname.”

Meanwhile, Nagumo continued his way through the campus, smiling to himself as he touched his lips, still savoring the taste of your kiss.

///

INT. FRAT HOUSE — EVENING

Osaragi handed a small paper bag to Nagumo, a smirk on her face, “I got you the goods,” she declared.

Shishiba glanced into the bag and asked, “Facemasks?”

Osaragi nodded, a knowing grin spreading across her face, “Yeah, he's getting into skincare now,” she explained, amused by the turn of events.

Shishiba raised an eyebrow and questioned, “All of a sudden?”

Nagumo responded, opening up one of the facemasks with his teeth and applying it to his face. He let out a contented sigh, “Ah... this is soothing,” he remarked, enjoying the effect on his skin.

Osaragi shook her head and chastised, “You're being wasteful! You're supposed to wash your face first!”

Shishiba looked perplexed and asked, “Can y’all fill me in? Did I miss something?”

“According to him, his tutor likes his face,” Osaragi explained, a teasing smile playing on her lips.

Shishiba's eyebrows shot up, surprised by the revelation, “Oh, her? She said that to you, Nagumo?”

Nagumo beamed, a smug smile on his face, “Mhmm! I need to take care of this handsome face. She said she likes it,” he repeated, clearly very proud of himself.

Osaragi and Shishiba shared a knowing look, amused by the realization that their friend had been thoroughly whipped.

Shishiba raised an eyebrow and asked, “Does she even know you're from a different department and don't need the tutoring?”

Nagumo clicked his tongue, dismissing the question, “It doesn't matter. She never asks me anything anyway,” he explained.

Osaragi leaned in and whispered to Shishiba, “Stalker behavior.”

Nagumo overheard her comment and replied in a sing-song tone, “I heard that!”

[itoshiexx]

scraps

synopsis: you give him all you have. it's time to collect the scraps before there is nothing left.

pairing: itoshi sae x gn!reader | words: 797 | warnings: established relationship, angst

notes: do u guys remember the sae drabble i told y'all about some time ago? well, my depressive ass decided to post it now. i'm sorry in advance.

masterlist

the silence is deafening. it lingers thick and heavy in the air, nearly making you choke on nothing — or perhaps you’re choking on all the things you want to say that are stuck in your throat. you can feel your whole body trembling as the anxiety creeps further in, and you wrap your arms around yourself to try and bring some comfort. 

before, it was someone else’s arms that gave you peace, but lately, it has only been torment. 

it is why you’re standing in the living room of your shared apartment, staring at the teal eyes of itoshi sae while trying to hold back your own tears. it hurts. it hurts to look at him and remember the way he used one of your weaknesses against you in the argument you had minutes before, as if stabbing a wound that didn’t quite close properly, tearing the skin at the seams and turning it into a bigger, uglier, messier scar. 

you feel violated. 

perhaps you should have known better. maybe, if you listened to your mother, you wouldn’t have shown so much of yourself to sae, basking in a vulnerability that could only come back to bite you in the end. you gave him all the tools to hurt you where it stings most, and there was no one to blame but yourself for that. 

love made you foolish. you were tired. 

“i don’t think i can do this anymore, sae.” your voice is meek and hollow. only a shell of the person you used to be — the one that bled through its heart until all the life was drained. 

“what’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, brow arched. defensive. ready to hurt you some more in case he became slightly uncomfortable. 

you breathe. in and out. in and out. rubbing your arm with your own hand, whispering to yourself under your breath that everything was going to be alright. even if it felt like nothing but that. 

“you… you’re hurting me, sae,” you manage to say with the lump in your throat. “you have been for a while. and i try to be better, but i… i can’t do this alone. and you’re not even trying.”

the tears welled up in your lash line start to fall again, and at this point, you know it’s useless to try and stop them. you also know they are the only thing that keep you sane, even if it feels like you’re losing your mind at every breath you take. 

sae doesn’t say anything, and you actually consider that a blessing. you don’t know how much more of his venomous words you can take before it destroys you completely from the inside out. something tells you his toxin has been spreading through your body for a while, although you only started to notice recently, when the fights got worse.

how long has he been killing you?

the weight of this question is enough to spike your anxiety once again, and you dig your nails on the skin of your arms to try to detain these overwhelming feelings, squeezing your eyes shut.

you nearly jump when you feel his strong arms circling your shoulders, bringing your head to his chest. you squirm and try to fight it — fight him —, but sae is stronger and more stubborn than you could ever be, and all you can do is cry harder and blow weak punches to his torso. 

“i’m sorry,” he says. it’s not the first time. the words make your stupid heart flutter with hope, but the hurt brings you back to reality. it’s not the first time, and he has done nothing to change for the better. he never fucking listens.

“you’re so mean,” you cry, ceasing the punches due to your lack of strength. you can barely keep standing, and you’re sure that his hold is the only thing keeping you from falling. “why are you so mean to me, sae?”

he’s silent again. you keep going. “i gave you my everything. i loved you with all i had. i-i opened up to you like never before, and you… you just…”

your stomach sinks. there aren’t even words to express what you’re feeling nor what he’s doing to you — the many ways he has been destroying what you spent years trying to put back together.

you were tired. 

in a final attempt to save what’s left of you, you raise your head from his chest to look deep into his aquamarine eyes. you want him to look at yours, too. 

“sae,” your voice is nothing more than a hollow whisper. you take a deep breath, garning all the strength and courage you can.

and then, you plea for the last time:

“please, give back what’s left of my heart.”

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