Tumgik
#proof that i never should not play it safe
bluejutdae · 2 days
Text
Perv!Roommate Jeongin | Jeongin x you
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
notes: sequel of this. I hate it, but eh. Might delete it in the future..
PervRoomate!Jeongin whose jealousy is slowly making him spiral out of control. Now that he has tasted you, the thought of anyone else getting too close drives him mad. When you go back home and talk about your day, he listens carefully for any male names that come up. Your coworkers, your friends, the guy at the coffee shop who paid for your drink… they’re all threats trying to take you away from him. So he starts to “accidentally” show up in places he knows you’ll be at. “Oh, you come here too?” and “was it tonight that you planned to come see a movie here?”
PervRoomate!Jeongin who, anytime he sees you talking a little too cozy with another guy, jokes saying you’re cheating on him, that you shouldn’t flirt with others. It’s an inconvenience for you, but you can’t deny the shiver that went through you from the possessiveness of his words. He starts manipulating you when you consider making plans. He looks at you like a puppy and convinces you to tell your friends you’re busy, guilt tripping you into staying home with him, because “I just miss spending time with you, jagi. Don’t you care about me?”
PervRoomate!Jeongin who has no remorse when he gaslights you, telling you agreed to watch that movie with him. And no remorse when he lies, pretending to be sick the moment  you’re about to go out with someone. How can you abandon your roommate-slash-fuck buddy when he feels like that? The same night, after he convinces you to sleep in his bed because he feels too cold, he smiles to himself. Once words about you being unavailable spread at work and among your friends, the competition will be destroyed. 
PervRoomate!Jeongin starts to leave marks on your body, where they’re most visible. Hickeys on your neck, a bite mark on your shoulder. It’s his way of marking you, another proof that you’re his and no one else’s. He gets a twisted satisfaction from seeing the marks he left on your skin. And the display of ownership doesn’t bother you too much. It’s just something silly, right? It’s not real ownership.
PervRoomate!Jeongin who plays the victim any time you two argue, and he makes you feel guilty. “I was only looking after you. That skirt was really short. You know how many perverts are on the train, right?” He’s pushy, yes, but he only wants you to be safe, right? Sometimes, after a fight, he seems so hurt by it. “I just care about you so much, can’t you see that?” Of course you can see it. And when he kisses you, you reassure him, you kiss him, and inevitably you spend the evening together in bed. 
PervRoomate!Jeongin always fucks you harder after a fight, more possessive, and more marks litter your body the day after that. A collar of bruises on your neck, a clear sign of STAY AWAY FROM HER, clear to everyone but you. When he has you on your knees, fucking you from behind, with you back pushed against his chest, he whispers “you’re mine. All mine. No one else can have you like I do.” But you never worry, people say all sorts of things while having sex, and you’ve always loved some dirty talk.
PervRoomate!Jeongin that, now that has access to your body, your attention and your underwear drawers, wants more. “If we’re both single by the time we’re thirty, we should get married”. But if things go his way, neither of you will be single…
173 notes · View notes
badathumanemotions · 21 hours
Text
Needy
Tumblr media
Elle Greenaway x Gender Neutral Reader
MDNI Master List Category: Smut CW: Afab Reader, Dirty Talk, Oral Sex, Dom/Sub, Vibrator, Mirror Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Aftercare. WC: 4,213 You've been needy all day for Elle, following her around like a lost puppy. Until finally she takes pity on you. (Not Proof Read)
You've been trailing behind Elle all day, your eyes fixed on her every move. Currently she's engrossed in her book, her fingers gently holding the book open, her eyes scanning the words. You wish those eyes would look at you, even for a moment, to acknowledge the silent plea you've been sending her way. Your body craves her touch, a craving that's been growing stronger as the day went on.
You hover at the edge of the couch, unsure if you should disturb her. It's like you're a lost puppy, hoping she'll drop her book and come over to pet you, to give you the attention you so desperately need. You've tried to be patient, to let her have her space, but it's becoming increasingly difficult.
Elle's eyes flick up from the pages, meeting yours briefly before returning to her book. She knows. She's been watching you, observing your restlessness, the way you've been trying to get her attention without actually saying a word. It's a silent dance the two of you have been doing all day, and she's enjoying it.
But now, as the shadows grow longer with the setting sun, she senses the urgency in your gaze. She sets her book down, creating the sound of pages slapping together. "You've been needy today" she says. She doesn't make it a question, but you nod anyway.
Elle motions for you to come over to her with a crook of her finger, the gesture stirring something in you. You feel your heart quicken, the anticipation of what's to come pulsing through your veins. You obey without a second thought, crossing the room to stand in front of her.
"On your knees," she says firmly. You drop to your knees, looking up at her with wide eyes that beg for more. She smiles, a knowing smile that tells you she's going to give you what you want, but on her terms.
Her hand reaches out to stroke your cheek, the softness of her touch setting your skin on fire. You lean into it, savouring the sensation, your eyes fluttering shut.
"What do you need, baby?" she asks. The question hangs in the air, loaded with meaning, a silent invitation for you to open up, to tell her exactly what it is that you crave.
You suddenly turn shy, not answering. Your cheeks flush and you drop your gaze to the floor. You're not used to being so forward, but today you're desperate for her.
Elle wasn't having it. She cups your chin, tilts your head back up to meet her gaze. "Tell me," her voice a command.
You swallow hard, trying to find the words to express the desire that's been consuming you. "I… I want to taste you," you finally manage to say, your voice barely a whisper.
Elle's smile widens, a hint of amusement sparkling in her eyes. "And why should I let you?" she challenges. Enjoying the power play, how you squirm under her scrutiny.
You promise to be good, to do anything she asks, to give her what she wants in return. The words spill out of your mouth, earnest and hopeful. You've never felt so vulnerable, but with her, it's safe to be this exposed.
Elle's eyes narrow slightly, considering your proposal. She leans back into the couch, watching you intently. "Anything?" she repeats, raising an eyebrow.
You nod fervently, your eyes steady on hers. "Anything," you reaffirm.
With a smirk, Elle says, "That's a dangerous thing to promise, sweetheart," before commanding you to strip.
You stand up, your hands shaking slightly as you pull your shirt over your head, you drop it to the floor, leaving you topless and in jeans. She watches you, her eyes raking over your body, as you undo the button and slide the zipper down. Your legs feel wobbly as you push your jeans down your thighs, stepping out of them and kicking them aside. Your panties are the last to go, leaving you bare before her.
She doesn't say anything, just continues to watch as you get onto your knees. You know what she wants, what she expects.
Elle rises from the couch with the grace of a panther, her movements slow and deliberate. She takes a step closer to you, and you can feel the heat radiating from her body. She places a hand on your shoulder, her fingers digging in just enough to make you aware of her strength, of the power she holds in this moment.
With the other hand, she unbuttons her pants and slides them down her long, toned legs. You watch, entranced, as she steps out of them, leaving herself in just a pair of panties and a white tank top.
Elle sits back down on the couch, spreading her legs open in a gesture that leaves no room for doubt. She's giving you access, inviting you in. You can see the dampness on her underwear, a sign of her arousal. Your mouth waters at the sight.
Without wasting another moment, you dive in, pressing your face between her thighs. The fabric of her panties is soft against your skin, but it's the scent of her, musky and sweet, that makes you go wild. You begin licking her through the fabric.
Even with the barrier of her underwear, you're more determined than ever to give her pleasure. You run your tongue along the seam, feeling her heat, her legs quiver slightly. You know she's enjoying it, but you want more. You want to taste her, to hear her moan, to feel her shudder with every touch of your mouth.
Summoning your courage, you gently push the fabric aside with your thumb. The skin beneath is hot and slick with anticipation. You hesitate for a moment, waiting for her reaction. When she doesn't protest, you take it as your cue. Your tongue darts out, tasting her for the first time.
You hmm happily as you lick and suck, her desire coating your mouth. Your eyes close in pleasure as you explore her folds, your nose bumping into the warmth of her sex. Her hand finds your hair, guiding you, urging you deeper.
Elle's breath hitches, and she lets out a low moan that vibrates through you, making your own arousal spike. You can feel yourself becoming pussy drunk, intoxicated by her taste, her scent, her response. Your own wetness begins to drip down your thighs as you eagerly devour her.
Her hips start to rock slightly, guiding your movements, setting the rhythm. You follow her lead, sucking harder, your tongue flicking and swirling around her clit. The sound of your wet mouth on her flesh fills the room, punctuated by her gasps and whimpers.
With both hands, you grip her hips firmly, your nails digging into her skin. The pressure you apply leaves faint white lines that stand out against her tanned skin. You can feel her muscles tighten beneath your fingers as she pushes against your face, grinding into your mouth.
You switch between quick, delicate kitten licks and sloppy, obscene slurping, your tongue swirling around her clit in a dance of pleasure. You're lost in lust, the only thing that matters is her satisfaction.
Elle's hand tightens in your hair, pulling you closer as she nears her climax. Her thighs clench around your head, trapping you in a vice. You don't mind; you crave it, the feeling of her body responding to your every touch.
When she finally cums, it's with a guttural moan that fills the room. Her body shakes, her hips bucking up to meet your mouth as she rides the wave of pleasure. But even as her orgasm subsides, you can't stop. You're lost in the taste of her.
Elle's grip on your hair loosens, and she pants heavily, her chest rising and falling. She's sensitive now, but you're relentless. You keep licking, savouring her taste. She squirms under you, her legs twitching.
You can feel her starting to build again, her breath catching. She whispers, "Fuck, don't stop," and you don't. Your tongue swirls around her clit, pressing firmly before moving down to taste her deeper. You're insatiable, driven by a hunger that's only grown with each of her moans.
Her legs tighten around your head, her nails scratching at your back as you lick and suck, your tongue delving into her wetness. The sound of her breathing changes, becomes ragged, her body arching off the couch. She's close, so close, and you want to push her over the edge again.
Your tongue works in tandem with your fingers, slipping inside her, feeling her clench around you. The walls of her pussy pulse with each thrust, her juices coating your hand. You feel her orgasm building, the way her muscles tense, the way her breath turns into panting.
Elle's hands are in your hair, guiding you, her nails scraping at your scalp. It's a delicious kind of pain that only adds to the intensity of the moment. You can feel her getting closer, her hips jerking against your face, her moans growing louder.
You love when she grinds her hips against your mouth, when she takes her pleasure from you so unabashedly. It's a power play and you're all too happy to be the one serving her needs. Her legs tense around you, trapping you in place as she uses your mouth for her own pleasure.
Her moans become more erratic, her breathing hitches, and you know she's close. With a final, guttural cry, she comes again, her body shaking with the force of her climax. You don't stop, though, you keep licking and sucking, her pleasure your own. Your own pussy is throbbing now, begging for attention, but you ignore it, focusing solely on her.
Elle's grip on your hair loosens, and she slumps back into the couch, panting. But you're not done yet. You keep going, your tongue relentless as it laps at her clit, feeling the aftershocks of her orgasm quiver through her. She's so sensitive now, every touch sends a new ripple of pleasure through her body.
Her hands come up to cover her face, muffling the sounds she makes. You can feel her thighs quiver against your cheeks, and you know she's trying to hold back. But you won't let her. You want to hear her scream, to feel her shake with pleasure.
Your tongue doesn't stop, it keeps moving in the same pattern, the one that brought her to the brink before. You're relentless, your mouth working tirelessly as you push her towards another climax.
Elle's hips jerk upward, her hands now gripping the couch cushions. She's trying to find purchase, trying to anchor herself as the waves of pleasure threaten to overwhelm her. But you won't let her escape. Your hands hold her hips in place, keeping her open to your relentless mouth.
The familiarity of the sensation sends her spiralling, her body responding instinctively. You feel her building again, her muscles tightening around your fingers. She's so close, and you can't help but feel a sense of pride at how quickly you've brought her to this point.
With one final, hard suck, her body tenses and she cums again, her pussy contracting around your fingers, juices spilling onto your hand. You drink her in, savouring every drop, her taste like a drug you can't get enough of.
Elle's legs fall apart, and you pull away, panting, your face glistening with her arousal. You look up at her, and she's watching you with hooded eyes, her chest heaving. "Good girl," she murmurs.
You lean back on your heels, feeling the warmth of your own need between your legs. "Elle," you breathe, "I need you now."
Her eyes narrow. "You're lucky I love that talented mouth of yours," she says. "Or else I'd punish you for being so greedy."
You whine slightly, your cheeks reddening. You know she's playing with you, but the words send a thrill through your body. "Please, Elle," you beg. "I need you."
Elle gives you a look that makes your insides flutter. "Go," she says. "Get on the bed. On your knees. And wait for me."
You scurry to the bedroom, your heart racing with excitement. You crawl onto the bed, knees sinking into the soft mattress, and position yourself at the edge.
Elle's command echoes in your mind: "Wait for me." It's torture, but you obey, your hands resting on your thighs, resisting the urge to slide between your legs.
Elle walks into the bedroom, her shirt now gone, revealing a simple black bra that compliments her damp panties. Her nipples are hard points pushing against the fabric, and her skin glows from the heat of her arousal. She's a vision of desire, and you can't help but stare.
Her eyes lock onto yours, and she smirks, then crosses the room to the dresser. She opens the top drawer, and you hold your breath. Your eyes widen as she pulls out a magic wand vibrator, the sight of it making your clit throb.
Elle saunters over to the bed, dropping it onto the mattress before walking to the free-standing mirror in the corner of the room. She positions it so that it reflects the entirety of the bed, allowing you to see every inch of yourself as she takes you apart.
Her gaze meets yours in the reflection as she orders you off your knees and into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. The authority in her voice sends a shiver down your spine, and you do as you're told. She settles in behind you, her hands on your shoulders, guiding you lean against her.
Her legs tangle with yours, forcing them apart, exposing your dripping pussy to the cool air of the room. You lean back into her, feeling her warmth, her breath on your neck as she presses kisses below your ear. Her thighs are firm, keeping you open, vulnerable to whatever she has in store.
"Look," she whispers in your ear, her breath hot against your skin. "Look at how desperate you are." Her hand cups your mound, her thumb circling your clit lazily. Your eyes widen as you watch yourself in the reflection, your cheeks reddening.
Elle's fingers dip lower, teasing your wet folds. They slide through your slickness with ease, and you can't help but gasp at the sensation. She takes her time, exploring every inch of you with gentle strokes that make you squirm.
Her touch is light, maddening, as she traces your slit from bottom to top, never quite touching your clit, which is now swollen and begging for attention. You can feel her watching you in the mirror, her eyes taking in every twitch and quiver of your body.
Elle brings her wet fingers up your stomach, painting a path of your desire on your skin. You hold your breath as she reaches your chest, your heart pounding in anticipation. She circles one of your nipples, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. You arch into her touch, silently begging for more.
She picks up the magic wand vibrator from the bed. You watch in the mirror as she flicks it on to the lowest setting, the head buzzing gently. She brings it to your chest, and you jump at the sudden sensation. She smirks, then moves it down your torso, the vibrations leaving trail of tingles in it's wake.
Elle traces the toy around your navel, watching as your stomach muscles jump. She teases the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, moving closer and closer to your pussy, but never quite touching it. You can feel the tension building, the anticipation making your legs shake.
Her eyes watch carefully as she drags the vibrator up the insides of your thighs, each pass bringing it closer to where you need it most. You're panting now, your chest heaving with each shallow breath. She knows exactly what she's doing, and she's enjoying every second of it.
Elle finally holds the vibrator to your clit, and you jolt at the intense sensation. It's like lightning directly to your core, and you can't help the loud moan that escapes your lips. She presses it harder, holding you steady as your body tries to buck away from the pleasure.
You watch in the mirror as her hand works the vibrator, moving it in slow, deliberate strokes. Each pass sends a shiver through your body, your pussy clenching in response. She increases the speed, the buzzing growing louder. The vibrations travel through your entire being, setting your nerves alight.
And then she whispers "You're such a needy little slut, aren't you?". You nod, unable to form coherent words, your eyes locked on the mirror.
Her breath tickles your neck as she says, "You love it when I make you beg, don't you?" Each word dripping with lust.
You whimper, nodding, unable to form words as she continues her sweet torment. "You're such a greedy little thing," she taunts. "Always so eager for more, so desperate for my touch."
The moment your eyes slide shut, her other hand comes up to grip your cheeks harshly. "Keep your eyes open," she commands. "Or I'll stop touching you."
Your eyes fly open, and you let out a whine of protest, but you obey. In the mirror, you can see the smug look on her face, the glint of victory in her eyes. She knows she has you, that you're under her spell.
"That's what I thought," she states. "Now, let's see how much of a greedy slut you really are." She increases the speed of the vibrator, and you can't help but moan louder, your body trembling with the effort of holding still.
The vibrations are intense, and your pussy is so sensitive now, each stroke sending pleasure through your body. You're so close, so fucking close. You can feel it building, the tension coiling.
And then, with a whine, it hits you. Your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave, your body jerking and trembling from the force of it. Your eyes squeeze shut despite her command, but she doesn't stop. She keeps the vibrator pressing against your clit, making the sensation even more overwhelming.
"Eyes on the mirror," she orders, her voice firm. You force your eyes open, looking into the mirror. Your face is a mask of ecstasy, your mouth open in a silent scream. You can see your own eyes, glazed over with pleasure.
Elle cranks the vibrator up to its highest setting, and the buzzing turns into a high-pitched whine. You brace yourself for the intensity, but it's nothing compared to the pleasure that consumes you when she presses it back against your clit.
"Too much," you gasp out, your voice shaking. "Elle, it's too much." But even as you say the words, you arch into the sensation, your body begging for more. She doesn't ease up, instead, she uses her free hand to spread your folds, giving the vibrator better access.
Elle's voice is a dark chuckle in your ear. "Is it? Is it really, baby?" she mocks. "If you're going to act like a needy slut you're going to be treated like a needy slut." She emphasizes her point with a particularly hard press of the vibrator.
You can't argue with her. You can't even think straight. Your eyes are glued to the mirror, watching your pussy quiver with each pulse of the toy. It's mesmerizing, the way your body responds to her, the way you're spread open for her viewing pleasure.
All that comes out of your mouth are incoherent sounds of pleasure. Your cheeks are flushed, your eyes glazed with lust as you watch her manipulate your body. You're a moaning mess, unable to get an intelligible word out.
Elle's grip on the vibrator doesn't falter, stroking it up and down, hitting all the right spots. She's relentless, pushing you closer and closer to another peak. "Again," she whispers in your ear. "I want to see you come again."
Your body responds to her command, your pussy pulsing. You try to resist, but it's no use. The pleasure is too intense, too overwhelming. You feel your climax trigger, your muscles tightening, your breath coming in short gasps.
You feel a sharp smack on your clit. Your eyes fly open in shock and pain. In the mirror, you see Elle's hand come down again, slapping your pussy firmly. "I told you to keep your eyes open," she says, her voice stern. You hadn't even realized you closed your eyes.
The sting quickly turns to pleasure, and you bite your lip to keep from screaming. The vibrator is still pressed to your sensitive nub, the high setting making it feel like it's vibrating through your entire body. You can't help but push into it.
Elle's hand is steady, her eyes on the mirror, watching your every reaction. She's a master at reading your body, knowing exactly when you're about to break. You can feel the tension coiling again, tightening in your stomach. It's unbearable, the way she brings you to the brink and then pulls back, only to push you over again.
Then she bites down on the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. The pain is sharp, surprising, and you cry out, your body arching back into hers. It's a sensitive spot, one she knows drives you wild. The combination of pain and pleasure sends you spiralling, and you orgasm for the third time.
Your pussy clenches, your juices spilling onto the bed beneath you. The sheets are soaked, the fabric sticking to your skin. If you had the capacity for embarrassment, you'd be mortified, but right now all you can feel is the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you.
"Elle, I can't take anymore," you whine, your voice high and desperate. Your body is a live wire, each touch threatening to send you over the edge again. But she doesn't relent.
"You can, and you will," she whispers in your ear, the vibrations from the wand not missing a beat. The words resonate through your core, and you feel yourself submitting to her once more. You're hers to play with, to bring to climax as many times as she desires.
The next orgasm hits like a freight train, and with it come a series of smaller ones, like aftershocks. Each one more intense than the last, making your body convulse and quiver uncontrollably. You can't believe how sensitive you are, how much she's turned you into a quivering mess of pleasure.
Elle's voice is low and seductive in your ear, "One more, baby. Make it count." Her words echo in your mind as you struggle to hold on to reality. The vibrator is a constant, unyielding presence, bringing you closer and closer to the edge with every stroke.
Your eyes lock onto hers in the mirror, and you can see the challenge in them. You want to prove to her that you can take it, that you can handle whatever she gives you. The desire to please her is stronger than any discomfort.
With a final surge of willpower, you push back into the vibrator, riding the wave of pleasure as it crashes over you again. Your scream fills the room, a mix of pleasure and pain as you come for what is possibly the 7th time.
As your body goes limp, Elle finally pulls the vibrator away, leaving your clit throbbing and your legs shaking. You collapse against her, utterly exhausted. She wraps her arms around you, her chuckles vibrating against your back.
"Good little slut," she murmurs, her breath warm on your neck. The phantom buzz of the toy lingers, making your pussy twitch. You lean into her, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath. She's so strong, so in control, and you can't help but feel completely owned by her.
Elle gently helps you up the bed, arranging the pillows so that you're propped up comfortably. Your limbs feel like jelly, but her touch is firm and sure, guiding you into place. You can't help but lean into her, craving the warmth and security she offers after that intense experience.
Her eyes soften as she looks at you, a hint of concern in her expression. "Are you okay?" she asks, her voice gentle. You nod, still trying to catch your breath, and she smiles before heading to grab supplies.
Elle returns with a warm, damp cloth, which she uses to gently wipe away the sweat and arousal from your thighs and pussy. She's careful not to cause any more stimulation, and her touch is soothing, almost maternal.
As she tends to you, you can't help but stare at her in awe. The way she moves with such confidence, the way she wields pleasure and pain so masterfully, it's intoxicating. You're struck by just how deeply you feel for her, how much you trust her to give you what you need.
When she's done cleaning you up, Elle leans in and presses a soft kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, before finally capturing your lips. It's a gentle kiss, filled with affection, leaving you humming with content.
25 notes · View notes
tardis--dreams · 1 year
Text
Choosing to suffer instead of taking medication for my cold symptoms because i don't think there's an equivalent medicine available here and i must limit my intake to one tablet a day to make it through the 4 months here
3 notes · View notes
stylesispunk · 2 months
Text
"Did the love affair maim you too?"
Joel miller x f!reader
next part
Tumblr media
Summary: Joel doesn't like you until he loses all his memories.
w.c: 14k> (longest piece I've written and my eyes are dry)
warnings: fluff, mention of amnesia, memory loss, ANGST and angst, and more angst because I love angst. There is smut but you already know I'm bad at writing that. No proof reading, I'm lazy, sorry.
a/n: hello! I got inspired by this "memory loss" type of story. It was supposed to be a one shoot, but I had to split the whole thing so another part is more likely to happen. I know there has been some drama surrounding writers and I want to say that every single person who writes and makes an art with that is amazing! Everyone who is reading this, please give creators here your flowers. With that being said, Happy reading or not 😭💌 Reblogs and comments are always appreciated. (come on, talk to me)
dividers by @saradika-graphics
Tumblr media
Joel didn't used to hate women, but man, when he met you for the first time, you crawled under his skin. He had fun with you, making jokes, trying to get on your nerves. For his hell, everyone in Jackson loved you; after all, you were the nurse and the sweetheart. Always looking after everyone, always being sweet to everyone.
It was a sunny afternoon when you first arrived in Jackson, your kind demeanor and skilled hands quickly gaining the trust and admiration of the townsfolk. Joel watched from a distance with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. He couldn't understand why everyone was so taken with you. To him, you seemed too soft, too gentle for the brutal world they lived in.
"Hey, Joel," Tommy called out one day, pulling Joel from his brooding thoughts. "We're heading out on patrol. You should meet the new nurse. She's something else."
Joel grunted in response, not bothering to hide his disinterest. He didn't need to meet you to know what kind of person you were. In his mind, you were just another naive newcomer who wouldn't last a week.
But fate had other plans. That very evening, a group of raiders attacked the outer perimeter. The town was thrown into chaos, and Joel found himself side by side with you, defending the walls. He couldn't help but notice your bravery and the way you handled yourself under pressure.
After the attack, as the town counted its injuries and losses, you worked tirelessly, tending to the wounded. Joel watched you, his irritation growing as he saw the way everyone fawned over you, thanking you for your care.
"Think you're some kind of hero, huh?" Joel muttered as he approached you, his voice laced with sarcasm.
You looked up at him, exhaustion evident in your eyes, but you offered a small, tired smile. "Just doing my job, Joel."
"Your job?" Joel scoffed. "You think patching up a few cuts and bruises is going to keep these people safe? This world doesn't care how sweet you are."
You met his gaze, unwavering. "And what would you have me do, Joel? Let them suffer? We're all trying to survive here, and we all have our roles to play."
Joel huffed and walked away, but your words lingered in his mind. Despite himself, he couldn't deny that you were right. Over the following weeks, Joel continued to watch you, his annoyance slowly giving way to a grudging respect. He noticed how you never backed down, how you always stood your ground, even when faced with his relentless jabs.
One day, during a particularly harsh winter storm, you and Joel were sent out on a supply run. The weather was brutal, and the path was treacherous. As the wind howled around you, Joel found himself instinctively moving closer, his protective instincts kicking in despite his irritation.
"Watch your step," he warned, his voice gruff.
You nodded, shivering against the cold. "Thanks, Joel."
As you both trudged forward, the wind picked up, and visibility dropped to almost nothing. You focused on placing one foot in front of the other, barely able to see Joel a few steps ahead. Suddenly, you heard a sharp crack and a thud.
"Joel!" you shouted, fear gripping your heart.
Rushing forward, you found Joel lying on the ground, unconscious, blood trickling from a gash on his forehead. He must have slipped on the ice and hit his head on a rock hidden beneath the snow.
Panic set in, but you forced yourself to stay calm. You needed to get him back to Jackson quickly. You checked his pulse, relieved to find it steady, then did your best to bandage the wound with the supplies you had. With great effort, you managed to lift Joel and drape him over your shoulder, carrying him back through the storm.
By the time you reached Jackson, you were exhausted and freezing, but you didn't stop until you got Joel to the infirmary. The doctors took over, treating his wound and monitoring his condition.
You sat by Joel's bedside, watching him closely. Hours passed, and eventually he began to stir. His eyes fluttered open, and he looked around, disoriented.
"Joel?" you said softly, leaning forward.
He turned his head to you, his brow furrowing in confusion. But then, a slow, almost lazy smile spread across his face. "Well, hello there, beautiful," he said, his voice low and smooth. "Did I die and wake up in heaven?"
You blink, taken aback by his words. "Uh, Joel, it's me. Do you remember what happened?"
Joel's smile didn't waver as he looked at you. "I remember everything... except meeting you before. Are you sure we haven't met in a dream?"
You glanced at Tommy, who had just walked into the room, and saw the same confusion mirrored on his face. "Joel," Tommy said cautiously, stepping closer, "do you know who I am?"
Joel's eyes shifted to Tommy, his smile fading into a look of mild frustration. "Of course I do, Tommy. You're my brother. But I'm more interested in getting to know this doll here."
Tommy exchanged bewildered looks with you. "Joel, this is… Ah. She's... well, you two never really got along."
Joel's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Really? Well, I must've been an idiot then because I can't imagine not liking someone like you."
Your heart raced, unsure how to respond to this flirtatious side of Joel, the same who hours ago was trying to crawl under your skin, the same one who had rejected you all this time. "Joel, you really don't remember me at all?"
Joel shook his head, still gazing at you with that same enamored look. "Not a thing. But I gotta say, I feel like I'm seeing you for the first time, and I like what I see."
Tommy scratched his head, clearly at a loss. "This is... something else. We need to figure out what happened to his memory."
You nodded, trying to process the sudden shift in Joel's demeanor. You knew the hit on the head did something to his memory, but you didn’t know how to face it. "Joel, you hit your head pretty hard. The doctors said you might have some memory loss. Maybe this is part of it."
Joel reached out and gently took your hand, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "Well, if forgetting the past means I get to start over with you, I think I can live with that."
You couldn't help but blush, feeling a mix of confusion and something else you couldn't quite place. Perhaps butterflies are flying all around inside your tummy. "We'll take it slow, okay? There's a lot you need to know."
Joel's grip on your hand tightened slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. "As long as you're the one teaching me, I'm all in."
Tommy coughed awkwardly, breaking the moment. "Alright, let's give Joel some time to rest and recover. We'll figure this out together."
You nodded, reluctantly pulling your hand away from Joel's. "Get some rest, Joel. We'll talk more later."
As you and Tommy left the room, you couldn't shake the feeling of Joel's gaze following you. Tommy put a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "We'll get to the bottom of this. Just... be careful. He's not the same Joel right now."
You nodded, your mind racing with the implications of Joel's memory loss and his sudden interest in you. The days ahead were sure to be challenging, but you couldn't deny the flicker of excitement at the thought of getting to know this new, more open version of Joel.
A version where he could get to know you and maybe, like, a new story waiting to be written with the both of you becoming friends, and not just acquaintances just having to tolerate each other for the community’s sake.
Tumblr media
The days following Joel's accident were a whirlwind of confusion and unexpected emotions dancing on your mind. Joel's flirtatious comments and affectionate demeanor were a stark contrast to the gruff, often combative man you had known before.
You had started to get used to feeling his nice demeanor towards you. You found yourself happier than before, smiling at the thought of him when you weren’t with him, and he had become your last thought on your bed just before going to sleep, but you were aware his condition perhaps wasn’t permanent and he was going to recover his memories of you, so you didn’t want to take advantage of that, nor did you want to fall for Joel, not when the fear of him waking up one day and hating you as usual was a threat.
His recovery was slow but steady, and you spent a lot of time by his side, helping him piece together the fragments of his memory. Every interaction felt like walking on fire, with Joel's behavior making your heart flutter and your mind racing at thousand miles per hour.
As you were changing the bandage on his head, Joel watched you with a soft smile. "You know, you have the gentlest touch. It's like you're an angel sent to take care of me."
You blushed, avoiding his gaze. "I'm just doing my job, Joel. Making sure your pretty head heals properly."
Joel reached up and gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. "You're more than just a nurse to me now. I don't know what it is, but I feel this connection with you. Like we're meant to be."
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "Joel, a few days ago I was nothing to you. You don’t remember me, so please just focus on getting better."
Joel's expression softened; his eyes filled with earnestness. "I get it, but I can't help how I feel. This connection—it's real to me, even if I don't remember our past."
You bit your lip, feeling a mix of frustration and affection. "Joel, you're vulnerable right now. Your mind is trying to make sense of everything, and it's confusing. We need to take things slow."
Joel nodded reluctantly, his hand lingering near your cheek before he pulled it back. "I trust you. Just know that I'm here, and I want to get to know you, past or no past."
You gave him a reassuring smile. "One step at a time, okay? Let's focus on getting you back on your feet first."
Just then, Tommy walked in, carrying a tray of food. He cleared his throat, causing you to step back from Joel. "Brought you some lunch, big brother. How’re you feeling?"
Joel's eyes lit up at the sight of his brother. "Thanks, Tommy. I'm feeling better every day. And with this sunshine here, it's hard not to feel good."
Tommy gave you a knowing look, his concern evident. "Glad to hear it. Mind if I have a word with you outside?" he asked, looking towards you.
You nodded, feeling a mix of relief and anxiety. "Of course, Tommy."
As you stepped outside the room, Tommy closed the door behind you, his expression serious. "How are you holding up?"
You sighed, crossing your arms. "It's... complicated. Joel is so different now. He's kind, attentive, and he seems genuinely interested in me. But he doesn't remember our past—how much we clashed."
Tommy nodded, his face lined with concern. "I can see how that would be confusing. But you have to be careful. This might just be his way of coping with the memory loss. He's latching onto the one constant he has right now—you."
You looked down, feeling a lump form in your throat. "I know. I'm trying to keep my distance, but it's hard. He's... he's different, Tommy. And I can't deny that I'm starting to care for him."
Tommy placed a hand on your shoulder, his grip firm and reassuring. "I get it. But you need to remember that his memory might come back, and when it does, he could revert to the Joel we knew before. You have to protect yourself, too."
“Am I that unlovable?” you sighed.
Tommy's expression softened, and he shook his head. "No, you're not unlovable. Far from it. But the Joel we knew before... he had his walls up, and you know how stubborn he can be. If his memory comes back, he might go back to those old habits, those old defenses."
You nodded, feeling the weight of his words. "I understand. It's just... complicated."
Tommy gave your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Just take it slow. Don't rush into anything, and remember to take care of yourself too. You suffered a lot before arriving here."
You managed a small smile. "Thanks, Tommy. I needed that."
Tommy smiled back. "Anytime."
Returning to Joel's room, you found him sitting up, his eyes lighting up as you walked in. "Hey, everything okay?"
You nodded, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just had a chat with Tommy."
Joel's expression became thoughtful. "You know, I'm really grateful for everything you're doing for me. I can't imagine what it must be like, dealing with me like this."
You sat down beside him, taking a deep breath. "It's not easy, Joel, but it's worth it. You're worth it."
Joel reached out, taking your hand in his. "You know, even though I don't remember everything, I feel like I'm seeing you for the first time. And I like what I see."
Your heart raced, and you struggled to keep your emotions in check. "Joel, we need to take things slow. Focus on your recovery first."
Joel nodded, a small smile playing on his lips. "I understand. But I can't help how I feel."
He has repeated the same phrase as before, and you couldn’t help but feel yourself diving into a deep ocean for him.
You squeezed his hand gently. "One step at a time, okay?"
Joel's eyes held a determined glint. "One step at a time."
Tumblr media
The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the Jackson settlement as you walked briskly toward the main gate, your medical bag slung over your shoulder. You spotted Joel waiting for you, his arms crossed and a scowl already etched on his face.
"You're late," he growled as you approached.
You rolled your eyes. "I'm five minutes late, Joel. I had to take care of a kid with a fever."
Joel grunted, clearly unimpressed. "We have a schedule for a reason. Being late puts us at risk."
"Don't lecture me about risk," you shot back, your patience wearing thin. "I know the dangers out there just as well as you do."
Joel's eyes narrowed. "Do you? Because sometimes it feels like you're too soft for this world. Always stopping to help every stray animal and sick kid."
"Excuse me for having a heart," you snapped. "Not everyone wants to live like a damn machine."
"Having a heart can get you killed," Joel retorted, his voice rising. "Out there, you need to be tough. Focused."
"And maybe if you lightened up a bit, people wouldn't be so scared of you," you shot back, your frustration boiling over.
Joel took a step closer, his jaw clenched. "I don't care if people are scared of me. I care about keeping them safe. And you, with your bleeding heart, make that harder."
You felt a surge of anger and hurt at his words. "You know what, Joel? Maybe the problem isn't me. Maybe it's you. Maybe you're so wrapped up in your own pain that you can't see anyone else's."
Joel's face darkened, a mix of anger and something else—something like hurt—flashing in his eyes. "You don't know anything about my pain."
"And you don't know anything about mine," you replied, your voice trembling with emotion. "So maybe you should stop judging me and start seeing that we're all trying to survive in this hell together."
For a moment, the two of you stood there, the tension crackling between you like a live wire. Then Joel turned away, his shoulders stiff. "Let's just get this patrol over with."
You followed him out of the gate, your heart heavy with unresolved emotions. The silence between you was thick and uncomfortable, but neither spoke. The rift between you seemed insurmountable, and you couldn't see how things would ever change.
Tumblr media
You woke up with a pain on your neck. You had fallen asleep on a chair next to Joel’s bed where he was now lay resting, his breathing even and steady. His recovery was going well, but the emotional landscape was far more complex and you wanted to take the risk to discover it.  
You watched him for a moment, taking a mental picture of his face, the creases on his skin, how peaceful he looked like this. feeling the weight of uncertainty and guilt within you.
In that exact moment, Joel stirred, his eyes fluttering open. He looked around, his gaze settling on you with a warmth that made your heart skip a beat. "Hey, sunshine."
"Hey," you replied softly, mirroring his smile "How are you feeling?"
Joel stretched, wincing slightly but smiling nonetheless. "Better. Thanks to you."
You couldn't help but smile back, the tension easing a bit. "Just doing my job, Joel."
His eyes softened as he looked at you. "You're doing more than just your job. You've been taking care of me, looking out for me. I appreciate it."
You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. "It's what anyone would do."
Joel shook his head slightly. "No, not everyone. You're special, and I... I think I’m starting to understand that."
You felt a flutter in your chest at his words, a mix of emotions swirling within you. "Joel, you don't need to say that. You're still recovering, and things are confusing right now."
Joel's gaze remained steady, his expression earnest. "I mean it. There's something about you... something that's been here all along, and I was too stubborn to see it."
Your heart ached with the weight of his words, knowing how complicated the situation was. "Joel…”
“Did I care about you before?” he asked, gaze locked with yours.
You shook your head “No. Not really.”
You shook your head, feeling the sting of the truth. “No. Not really.”
Joel looked troubled, his brows knitting together. “I find that hard to believe. Because right now, I can’t imagine not caring about you.”
You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “Things were different before, Joel. We didn’t get along. You were... closed off, and I guess I was just someone who got under your skin.”
Joel’s expression softened with regret. “I’m sorry. For whatever I did to make you feel that way. I wish I could remember, but all I know is that right now, I see you, and I feel... connected.”
A memory from the past surged forward, vivid and painful. It was a cold evening in Jackson, just after a particularly difficult supply run. You and Joel had been at odds all day, and the tension between you was palpable.
"Why do you always have to be so damn difficult?" Joel snapped; his voice harsh as he slammed the door behind him.
You bristled at his tone, your own temper flaring. "Maybe because you treat me like I’m incompetent! I’m trying my best out there, Joel. We’re supposed to be a team."
Joel scoffed, his eyes narrowing. "A team? You’re a liability more than anything."
The words cut deep, but you stood your ground. "That’s not fair, and you know it. I’m just trying to help, like everyone else."
Joel’s face twisted with frustration. "Help? You call what you do helping? It’s a wonder anyone here can stand you."
The hurt was immediate and sharp, but you refused to let him see how much his words affected you. "At least I’m trying to do something good. You just push everyone away."
Joel stepped closer, his expression dark. "Maybe there’s a reason for that. I find it hard to believe anyone could actually love you."
The silence that followed was deafening. You stared at him, disbelief and pain warring within you. Without another word, you turned and left, unable to bear the weight of his cruelty.
Back in the present, you blinked, trying to dispel the memory. Joel was watching you closely, concern etched into his features. "What’s wrong?"
You forced a smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes. "Just... remembering something."
Joel reached out, gently taking your hand. "I wish I could remember too. So, I could make it right."
You looked down at your joined hands, the warmth of his touch grounding you. "Maybe it’s better this way.
Joel squeezed your hand gently. "A fresh start sounds good. But I still want to know everything. About us, about what I did wrong. So, I can be better."
You nodded, taking the risk and pushing your luck.
You and Joel could become friends, right?
"You and I... we could become friends, right?" you asked.
Joel’s eyes softened even more, and he smiled. "Friends sounds like a good start. We can build from there."
You felt a surge of relief. "Friends it is, then."
Tumblr media
The days passed, each one bringing closeness between you and Joel. He had got better, slowly starting to get back to his tasks. The community noticed the change in him, how he was more open and approachable. You often found yourselves working together, whether it was on supply runs or him visiting the infirmary when you were there working.
One afternoon, you were busy organizing medical supplies when Joel walked in, a smile spreading across his face as he saw you. "Hey, need any help in here?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe.
You looked up, smiling back. "Joel, what are you doing here? I thought you were out patrolling.”
Joel shrugged, stepping further into the room. "Finished early. Thought I’d come by and see if you needed a hand."
He, in fact lied. He switched places with another guy just to spend time with you again. He could feel your fear irradiating but he wanted to get to know you better. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact he didn’t like someone like you and he wanted to change that.  
You chuckled, shaking your head. " Sure, you can help me with these supplies. There are some boxes that need to be sorted."
Joel rolled up his sleeves and joined you, his presence filling the small room with a comforting warmth. As you worked side by side, you found yourself stealing glances at him, marveling at the changes in him. He was more relaxed, more open, and undeniably more attentive.
"You know," Joel said after a while, breaking the comfortable silence, "I think I like helping out here more than patrolling."
You raised an eyebrow, teasingly. "Oh? And why is that?"
Joel grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Because I get to spend more time with you."
You blushed, focusing intently on the box in front of you. "You’re just saying that."
"No, I mean it," Joel replied, his tone sincere. "I like being around you. You make everything better."
You felt a warmth spread through you at his words, and you couldn't help but smile. "Well, I like having you around too."
The truth was that stealing glances at him now felt like interlocking fingers without even touching his skin, there wasn’t precisely a sexual tension or possessiveness over him, but a warm incandescent glow within every time he smiled at you. That was something you hadn’t felt in so long, and this time felt so right yet so wrong.
You both continued to work in comfortable silence, the rhythm of your tasks interrupted only by the occasional exchange of smiles or a shared joke. The closeness was undeniable, and you could feel the lines between friendship and something more starting to blur.
Tumblr media
One afternoon, you were out on a supply run together, scanning the area for anything useful. The sun was setting, casting a golden hue over the landscape. As you bent down to pick up some supplies, Joel suddenly appeared by your side, his proximity making your heart race.
"Need a hand?" he asked, his voice low and warm.
You looked up at him, finding it hard to concentrate with him so close. "Sure, thanks."
As you both worked, the conversation flowed easily. Joel's presence was comforting, and you found yourself opening up to him in ways you hadn't before.
"You know, I never really thanked you properly," Joel said, his tone serious.
"For what?" you asked, genuinely curious.
"For saving my life. For being there for me when I needed it the most," Joel replied, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that made your heart ache.
You shook your head, a soft smile on your lips. "You don’t need to thank me, Joel. I did what anyone would do."
"Not anyone," he insisted, his gaze intense. "You went above and beyond. You always do."
You blushed, the warmth spreading through you once again. "Well, I care about you. I can’t help it."
Joel's expression softened, and he reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "I care about you too. More than I ever thought possible."
The moment hung in the air, filled with unspoken words and emotions. You could feel the pull between you, the undeniable connection that had grown stronger with each passing day.
"Joel, this is complicated," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "We need to take things slow."
"I know," he replied, his hand lingering near your face. "But I’m not going anywhere, but I’m not going anywhere.”
Joel's feelings for you had grown stronger. He found himself being smitten and completely in love by you, by your beauty, your strength and your soft heart. You were everything that was good with this world. Where everything and everyone was people with shadows dying out of melancholy, you were an angel wrapping your warm arms around him, making his world brighter. He had learnt how to savor the colors again.
As you continued your days together, Joel couldn't help but find ways to be close to you. He would always volunteer to accompany you on supply runs, ensuring you were safe and cared for. He would show up at the infirmary with small gifts – a flower he found on his patrol, a cup of your favorite tea, or a book he thought you might like. His gestures were always thoughtful and sincere, each one a testament to the depth of his feelings.
Joel couldn't take his eyes off you. You were kneeling in the ground, your hands deftly cleaning something you had found, your face serene and focused. Joel felt a swell of emotion, unable to keep it to himself any longer.
"You know," he began, his voice gentle, "I used to think this world had nothing left to offer. But then I met you."
You looked up, your heart skipping a beat at the intensity in his gaze. "Joel..."
He knelt beside you, his hand covering yours. "You make everything better. You've brought light into my life, and I can't imagine going back to the way things were."
You felt a mixture of warmth and apprehension. His words were everything you wanted to hear, yet the uncertainty of the situation weighed heavily on your heart. "Joel, this is all so new and complicated. We need to be careful."
Joel's grip on your hand tightened slightly, his eyes full of determination. "I know it's complicated, and I know we've got a lot to figure out. But I can't ignore what I feel. I want to be here for you, with you, through everything."
You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words. "I want that too, Joel. But we need to take it one step at a time."
He nodded, a soft smile spreading across his face. "I will make you fall in love with me," he said, his voice full of determination and warmth.
You couldn't help but smile back, feeling a mix of hope and apprehension. "You're quite confident, aren't you?"
Joel chuckled, his eyes never leaving yours. "When it comes to you, I am."
Tumblr media
You smiled, feeling a flutter in your chest at his words. "Let's get back to Jackson," you said, standing up and brushing off your clothes. Joel stood with you, offering a hand to help you up.
As you made your way back to Jackson, the conversation flowed easily. Joel told you stories from before the outbreak, sharing pieces of his past he hadn’t opened up about before. You found yourself laughing at his anecdotes, feeling a growing sense of connection.
When you finally reached the gates of Jackson, the sun was setting, casting a warm glow over the community. People greeted you both warmly, noticing the change in Joel's demeanor. He was more relaxed and more present, and it was clear to everyone that you had a positive influence on him.
Tommy approached, a knowing smile on his face. "Good to see you both back safe and sound."
Joel clapped his brother on the shoulder. "It was a good run. Found some useful supplies."
Tommy nodded, then looked at you. "And how about you? Everything alright?"
You smiled, feeling the warmth of Joel’s gaze on you on your face. "Yeah, everything's good."
As the evening settled in, you and Joel made your way to the communal dining hall. The chatter of the community filled the air, and you found a spot to sit together. Joel’s hand lingered near yours, his touch reassuring and steady.
Tommy, Ellie, and Maria soon joined you at the table. Tommy was carrying a tray laden with food, Ellie trailing behind him with a mischievous grin, and Maria gave you a warm smile as she took a seat.
"Good to see you two back," Elli said, setting down the tray and passing out plates. “How was the run?" Ellie asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.
"It went well," Joel replied, his gaze briefly meeting yours before he continued. "Found some useful supplies and had some good company."
Ellie smirked, elbowing Tommy. "I bet you did."
You blushed, focusing on your plate as you filled it with food. Maria, ever perceptive, glanced between you and Joel with a knowing smile. "It's good to see everyone together," she said, her tone light and warm.
As you all began to eat, the conversation flowed naturally. Tommy and Maria talked about the latest updates in the community, Ellie shared stories from her day, and Joel occasionally chimed in with his dry humor, making everyone laugh.
At one point, Ellie leaned over to you, her voice low enough so only you could hear. "Joel's been different lately. In a good way. You've been good for him."
You looked at her, surprised by her observation. "I hope so. It's been... a journey."
Ellie nodded, her expression sincere. "Just keep being you. That's all he needs."
The meal continued, filled with warmth and laughter. Joel's hand occasionally brushed against yours, sending electricity down your body.
Just as you were starting to relax, a woman approached the table, her presence causing a ripple of unease. It was Lori, one of the women Joel used to date. Joel visibly tensed, his gaze dropping to his plate as Lori stopped beside him, her smile a mix of surprise and something else you couldn't quite place.
“Joel," she said, her voice smooth and confident. "I didn't expect to see you here."
Joel looked up, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. "Lori. Uh, hi."
Lori glanced around the table, her eyes settling on you for a moment before she looked back at Joel. "I was just passing by and saw you all together. Mind if I join?"
Before anyone could respond, Tommy jumped in. "Sure, why not? There's always room for one more."
Lori pulled up a chair and sat down, her presence adding a layer of tension to the dynamics. Joel seemed uncomfortable; his usual confidence was replaced by nervous energy.
"So, Joel," Lori began, her tone light but probing. "How have you been? It's been a while."
Joel cleared his throat, glancing at you briefly before answering. "Yeah, it has. I've been... good. Just busy with everything here."
Lori nodded, her gaze shifting between you and Joel. "I can see that. Looks like you've made some new friends." She said, bitterly, “The last time I knew from you was when you left my house after our night, and then you hit your head and never spoke to me again.”
The table fell silent, tension crackling in the air. Joel looked uncomfortable, his gaze dropping to his plate. You could see the guilt and confusion in his eyes as he tried to process Lori's words.
"I'm sorry, Lori," Joel finally said, his voice low. "I don't remember much from before the accident. It's been... complicated."
Lori's expression softened slightly, but the hurt in her eyes remained. "I get that. But it still stings, you know? You just disappeared."
You felt a pang of empathy for Lori but also a fierce protectiveness over Joel. "It's been hard for him,” you said gently, trying to ease the tension. "Joel's been working hard to piece things together. He's different now, and we're all just trying to move forward."
Lori glanced at you, her expression unreadable. "I can see that, but it seems like you had taken advantage of the situation; he couldn’t stand your ass before his accident, and suddenly you have him like a little puppy following you everywhere.”
Your heart drops to your stomach, feeling warm spreading to your cheeks.
Joel's jaw tightened, and he quickly interjected, his voice firm. "That's enough, Lori. You don't know what you're talking about."
Lori raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "I just find it convenient, that's all."
Tommy leaned forward, his tone calm but authoritative. "Lori, we're all trying to move forward here. It's not fair to make accusations."
Ellie, always quick to defend those she cared about, added, "You weren't here to see what she did for Joel. She saved his life and has been helping him every step of the way."
Lori's gaze softened slightly, but the tension remained. "I'm sorry if I overstepped. I just needed to understand."
Maria nodded, her voice gentle. "We all get that, Lori. It's been a tough situation for everyone."
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "It's okay. "You took a deep breath before continuing. “I’ll take some fresh air,” you said, standing up, not even looking down at Joel, who seemed sad at your whole dementor.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. "It's okay. I—" you paused, feeling the weight of the conversation pressing down on you. "I’ll take some fresh air," you said, standing up abruptly. Avoiding eye contact with Joel, who looked sad and concerned, you made your way outside.
The cool evening air was a welcome relief, and you walked a little way from the dining hall, finding a quiet spot to gather your thoughts. You leaned against a tree, closing your eyes and taking deep, calming breaths.
After a few moments, you heard footsteps approaching. You opened your eyes to see Ellie standing there, her expression filled with concern. "Hey, you okay?"
You nodded, managing a small smile. "Yeah, I just needed a moment. That was a bit embarrassing."
Ellie walked over and leaned against the wall next to you. "Lori was out of line. You've been amazing with Joel. Anyone with eyes can see that."
“So, don’t you think I’ve been taking advantage of him?” You asked, really concerned.
“What are you talking about? He is the one completely enamored by you.” She replied, laughing.
Ellie laughed, shaking her head. "What are you talking about? He is the one completely enamored by you."
You sighed, leaning back against the wall. "I know, but sometimes it feels like I’m walking on eggshells. It feels like he is going to wake up from his trance and he will hate me again."
Ellie placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Listen, I've seen the way he looks at you. He’s happier, lighter. You’ve brought out a side of him I didn’t think existed. And trust me, if he didn’t want this, he’d make it clear."
You took a deep breath.
“What’s the worst that could happen?” Ellie asked.
“Me, falling in love with him,” you answer.
“What’s the worst that could happen?” Ellie asked, her tone light but sincere.
You sighed, the weight of your fears pressing down. “Me, falling in love with him,” you answered quietly.
Ellie gave you a sympathetic look. "And why is that so bad?"
"Because," you began, struggling to put your feelings into words, "what if his memories come back and he realizes he doesn’t feel the same way? Or worse, what if I fall in love with him and he changes back to the old Joel, the one who couldn’t stand me?"
Ellie nodded, understanding. "That's a risk, sure. But you can't let fear keep you from living. You've been through so much together, and it's clear he cares about you deeply now. Maybe that won't change."
You bit your lip, the turmoil inside you reflected in your eyes. "I just don't want to get hurt, Ellie. And I don’t want to hurt him either."
Ellie squeezed your shoulder. "I get it. But if you keep holding back, you'll never know what could be. Sometimes, you just have to take a leap of faith."
You let out a shaky breath, nodding. "Maybe you're right."
Ellie grinned. "Of course I'm right. Now, let's get back in there. Joel's probably worrying himself sick."
You smiled, feeling a bit more at ease. "Okay, let's go."
As you walked back into the dining hall, you found Joel still sitting at the table, his eyes lighting up when he saw your return. He stood up as you approached, his concern evident.
"You okay?" he asked softly.
You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just needed a breather."
Joel looked relieved, and he gently took your hand. "I'm glad you're back."
The evening continued with easy conversation, and as you all eventually made your way out of the dining hall, Joel walked beside you, his presence a comforting constant.
"Thanks for dinner," he said softly as you approached your door.
"Anytime," you replied, feeling a warmth in your chest at his words. "It was nice, being with everyone."
Joel nodded, his eyes lingering on you. "It was. And I meant what I said today. I’ll make you fall in love with me.”
You chuckled softly, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement at his words. "You're really set on that, aren't you?"
Joel nodded, his expression serious but with a hint of a smile that made you go crazy. "I am. Because I know what I feel now, and I’m not going to let it slip away."
You looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity there. "Joel, this is new for both of us. We need to take it one step at a time."
He took a step closer, his hand gently brushing against yours. “Am I that unlovable?”
You blinked, taken aback by his question. "What? No, Joel, you're not unlovable at all. It's just... complicated."
Joel's eyes softened, and he took your hand in his, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. "I get that. But I need you to know that I’m not going anywhere. I’ll wait as long as it takes."
You felt a warmth spread through you at his words. "I appreciate that, Joel. And I do care about you. A lot. It's just..."
"Scary?" he finished for you, his voice gentle.
You nodded.
Joel's expression turned thoughtful, and he nodded slowly. "Yeah, I get it. It is scary. But sometimes, the best things come from taking a leap of faith."
You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words. "It’s not just about taking a leap. It’s about making sure we’re ready for whatever comes next."
Joel squeezed your hand gently, his eyes never leaving yours. "I understand. And I'm ready to take it slow to give you the space you need. Just know that I’m here for you, and I’m not giving up on us."
You felt a mix of relief and trepidation, but Joel's unwavering support gave you strength. "Thank you, Joel. That means a lot to me."
He leaned in, resting his forehead against yours for a moment, his breath warm against your skin. "We’ll figure it out, one step at a time."
You nodded, closing your eyes for a brief second, allowing yourself to savor the closeness and the promise of what might come. When you opened your eyes again, you saw Joel’s smile—a smile that made you believe in the possibility of a new beginning.
"Goodnight," he whispered, his voice tender, holding back the desire to cupp your face and kiss you.
"Goodnight, Joel," you replied, your heart fluttering, feeling the same as him.
Now standing, this close, face to face, skins touching. One of you would give in before, and once that happened, there was no going to be a way to stop two hearts beating this fast.
Joel's eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze revealing the depth of his emotions. You could see the conflict within him, the longing that mirrored your own. His hand lingered near your face, his fingers almost brushing against your skin, his breath warm and steady.
The moment felt suspended in time, the air between you charged with unspoken words and electric anticipation. You both stood there, so close that you could feel the heat radiating from each other, your hearts racing in sync.
Joel’s voice was barely above a whisper. “I don’t want to push you, but I also don’t want to pretend like I don’t feel this.”
You swallowed, your own voice trembling slightly. “I feel it too, Joel. But we need to be careful.”
Joel nodded, his expression a mix of desire and restraint. “I know. And I want to respect that. I just...” He hesitated, taking a deep breath as if trying to steady himself. “I don’t want to miss this chance with you. I’ve never felt this way before.”
Joel’s gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips, the desire and uncertainty evident in his expression. His hand gently cupped your face. His touch was tender, as if he were afraid to break the spell that bound you both.
You felt your heart race, every nerve ending alive with anticipation. Joel’s fingers brushed softly against your cheek, and you could see the struggle in his eyes as he fought to keep his emotions in check. His breath grew shallower, and his eyes closed for a brief moment, savoring the closeness.
Slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It was gentle at first, a whisper of warmth and affection that sent a shiver down your spine. The moment felt both exhilarating and comforting, the culmination of all the unspoken words and feelings that had been building between you.
You responded instinctively, your lips moving softly against his. The kiss deepened gradually, a sweet exploration of new and uncharted territory. His hands moved to frame your face, his touch firm yet gentle, as if he were cherishing every second of this newfound closeness.
When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your eyes locking in a moment of shared understanding. The kiss had been more than just a physical connection; it was a promise of something more, something that neither of you fully understood yet but were both eager to explore.
Joel’s smile was tender and full of warmth. “I’ve wanted to do that since I woke up that day at the infirmary,” he admitted softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.
You felt a blush rise to your cheeks at his confession. His words made your heart flutter even more, and you could see the sincerity in his eyes.
"I'm glad you did," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've been feeling the same way."
Joel's smile widened, and he gently stroked your cheek with his thumb. "I didn’t want to rush things or push you. But now... now that we’ve shared this, I hope we can figure things out together."
You nodded, feeling a surge of hope and warmth. "I think we can. I want to see where this leads."
He took a deep breath, his gaze never leaving yours. "No pressure, just... being here with you."
You smiled, feeling a sense of calm and excitement. "I would like that.”
Joel nodded; his expression full of affection. "Good. Now, how about we get some rest? Tomorrow's a new day, and I want to spend it with you."
You felt a burst of warmth at his words and, inspired by the new closeness between you, you hesitated for just a moment before speaking up. “How about we go inside for a bit? I’ve got some tea. It might be nice to relax and talk more.”
Joel’s eyes lit up at the invitation, and he nodded with a smile. “That sounds perfect.”
You led the way to your house, the familiar surroundings now feeling different with Joel by your side. Once inside, you made your way to the kitchen and began preparing the tea. Joel watched you with an easy smile, clearly content.
As you waited for the water to boil, you and Joel chatted about lighter topics—how his recovery was going, plans for the community, and small anecdotes from your days. The conversation flowed easily, and the atmosphere between you was comfortable and warm.
When the tea was ready, you poured two cups and handed one to Joel. He took it with a grateful smile, his fingers brushing against yours. You both settled into a cozy corner of your living room, the soft light of a lamp casting a gentle glow around the room.
Joel sipped his tea, his gaze occasionally meeting yours. “This is nice,” he said softly. “Thank you for inviting me.”
Joel looked around your living room, the peaceful ambiance a stark contrast to the harsh world outside. He took another sip of his tea, then turned his gaze back to you. “You know, before all this, I had a pretty normal life. A family, a daughter named Sarah. She was... everything to me.”
His voice carried a tinge of sadness, and you could see the pain in his eyes. You nodded, sensing the weight of his memories. “I’m sorry, Joel. I can’t even imagine.”
Joel’s expression was somber but grateful. “Thanks. She was everything. When the outbreak happened, she... she didn’t make it. It’s been hard, you know? Trying to keep going and make sense of it all.”
You felt a pang of sympathy for him, knowing how devastating such a loss could be. “I understand. I lost my fiancé in a storm during the outbreak. We were caught outside, and he was... gone before I could do anything.”
Joel’s eyes softened with empathy. “That’s so tough. I’m really sorry you went through that.”
You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your own memories. “It was the storm that made me afraid of them. Every time the weather changes, it reminds me of that day. I try not to let it control me, but sometimes, it’s hard.”
Joel reached out, placing his hand gently on yours. “I’m sorry you’ve had to deal with that. It’s brave of you to face it every day.”
You looked at his hand on yours, feeling a comforting warmth from his touch. “It’s been a struggle, but having people like you around makes it a little easier.”
Joel nodded, his gaze steady. “We all have our battles. But we’ve found ways to keep moving forward. And maybe together, we can make those battles a little less daunting.”
+++++
The days turned into weeks, and your relationship with Joel grew stronger. The bond you shared was evident in the way you looked at each other and the ease with which you interacted. People in Jackson had noticed the change in both of you, and there was a sense of warmth and contentment surrounding your partnership.
One afternoon, as you were working in the infirmary, organizing supplies and checking on patients, Joel walked in. He had that familiar, easy smile on his face, and his presence was a comforting one amidst the hectic pace of the medical work.
“Hey,” he said, leaning against the doorway. “Thought I’d stop by and see how you’re doing.”
You looked up, your face lighting up at the sight of him. “Hey, Joel. Just busy as usual. How’s everything on the patrol?”
Joel shrugged, walking over to where you were working. “Not too bad. But I figured I’d come by and keep you company. I know you’ve been spending a lot of time here.”
You nodded, your smile softening. “Yeah, I’ve been needed here more often lately. But it’s good to see you.”
Joel moved closer, his hand reaching out to gently touch your arm. “I’ve missed you. It’s different when you’re not around.”
You felt a surge of affection at his words. “I’ve missed you too. But this is important. People need help, and I want to make sure I’m here for them.”
Joel nodded, understanding in his eyes. “I get it. Just remember to take care of yourself too. I’d hate to see you running on empty.”
You chuckled, appreciating his concern. “I’ll try. But having you here now brought a smile to my face.”
He smiled, his gaze lingering on you. “Well, I’m glad to be here. Can I help with anything?”
You thought for a moment, then nodded. “Actually, if you could help me restock some of these supplies, that would be great.”
Joel moved closer, his hand gently brushing against yours as he began helping with the supplies. The shared task created a comfortable silence between you, with only the soft sounds of organizing supplies filling the space.
As you worked side by side, Joel’s gaze lingered on you with an intensity that made your heart race. Without warning, he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours in a tender, affectionate kiss. The kiss was a sweet proof the connection you shared, and you responded with equal tenderness, savoring the closeness.
Just as the kiss deepened, the door to the infirmary swung open, and Dr. Ramirez walked in. Her eyes widened slightly at the sight of you and Joel but quickly masked her surprise with a professional smile.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she said, her tone warm but slightly teasing. “I came to check on things and see if you needed any help.”
You and Joel pulled away; a bit flustered but smiling nonetheless. “We were just finishing up,” you said, trying to sound casual. “Everything’s in order.”
Dr. Ramirez nodded, her gaze flicking between you and Joel with a knowing look. “Alright, if you need anything, just let me know.”
As she moved to her office, you glanced at Joel, your cheeks still slightly flushed. “Well, that was embarrassing.”
Joel chuckled, his hand still resting lightly on yours. “Yeah, but I guess it’s a good thing everyone know you’re my girl.”
You looked up at Joel, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "I suppose it is. It’s nice to be able to be open about us."
Joel’s expression softened; his gaze warm. “It is. And I’m glad we don’t have to hide anymore.”
You squeezed his hand gently, feeling a sense of contentment. “Me too. It makes everything feel more real, more... solid.”
Joel nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. “Do you want to have dinner at my place?” he asked.
You looked up at Joel, a smile spreading across your face at the thought of spending more time together. “Dinner at your place sounds wonderful. I’d love that.”
Joel’s face lit up with a warm smile. “Great. I’ll make sure to have something good ready for us.”
You both made your way to Joel’s place, the evening air cool and crisp. The walk was filled with easy conversation and shared laughter, a comforting routine that had become a cherished part of your days.
When you arrived at Joel’s house, he opened the door and gestured for you to enter. The interior was cozy, with soft lighting and a welcoming atmosphere. He led you to the kitchen, where a simple but inviting dinner was laid out on the table.
Joel’s cooking was surprisingly good, and as you enjoyed the meal together, the conversation flowed effortlessly. You talked about everything and nothing—your favorite memories, plans for the future, and the little things that made you both laugh.
After dinner, you moved to the living room, where Joel had set up a comfortable spot with blankets and pillows. You both settled in, the atmosphere relaxed and intimate.
Joel looked at you with a soft smile. “I’m really glad you’re here.”
You snuggled closer to him, feeling a deep sense of contentment. “Me too. Tonight has been perfect.”
He wrapped his arm around you, his touch warm and reassuring. “Here’s to many more nights like this.”
You smiled, resting your head on his shoulder. “I’d like that.”
As the evening wore on, you both talked about your past experiences and shared stories from before the outbreak. Joel spoke about his life before everything changed—his family, the dreams he had, and the struggles he faced. You shared your own experiences, including the loss of your fiancé and the challenges of adapting to this new world alone.
Joel listened intently, his hand occasionally brushing against yours as if to reassure you. “It’s amazing how much we’ve both been through,” he said softly. “And yet, here we are.”
You nodded, feeling a deep connection. “Yeah. It feels like we’re building something meaningful despite everything.”
After some time, you both decided it was time to call it a night. You stood up, stretching slightly as you gathered your things. Joel walked with you to the door, his presence a comforting constant.
As you reached the door, Joel hesitated for a moment, then gently grabbed your wrist, stopping you from leaving. He looked at you with a mix of hesitation and hope in his eyes. “I was wondering… would you like to spend the night here? It’s been nice having you around, and I’d love to have you stay.”
You looked at him, surprised but touched by the invitation. The warmth in his eyes and the sincerity of his voice made it hard to resist.
“I’d like that,” you said softly, a smile spreading across your face.
Joel’s expression brightened, and he pulled you into a gentle hug. “Great. Let’s get you settled in.”
Joel led you to his bedroom, a space that felt both lived-in and welcoming. The room was simple but comfortable, with a bed covered in worn but clean linens and a few personal touches that spoke to Joel’s character—photos of his family, a well-loved guitar leaning against the wall, and a small stack of books on the bedside table.
He gestured to the bed with a slightly sheepish grin. “Sorry, it’s not much, but it’s home.”
You smiled, feeling a sense of warmth and acceptance. “It’s perfect.”
Joel nodded, his expression softening. “I’m glad you think so.”
You both prepared for bed in comfortable silence, the familiarity of the routine helping to ease any lingering tension. Joel showed you where you could find anything you might need—extra blankets, a lamp for reading, and a small cabinet for any personal items you might want to keep nearby.
As you both settled into the bed, Joel turned off the lights, leaving only a soft glow from a nightlight on the dresser. He slipped under the covers, and you followed suit, the warmth and comfort of the bed providing a welcome respite from the day’s events.
Joel turned toward you, his eyes meeting yours in the dim light. “I’m really glad you’re here,” he said softly, his voice tender.
You smiled, feeling a sense of peace as you settled closer to him. “Me too. It feels right.”
He reached out and gently took your hand, interlocking your fingers. The simple gesture was filled with meaning, and you could feel the connection between you growing stronger.
“Goodnight,” Joel whispered, his voice carrying a note of affection.
“Goodnight,” you replied, your heart fluttering with contentment.
Tumblr media
A few days later, you and Ellie were seated at a table in the bustling dining hall, enjoying a well-deserved lunch. The room was filled with the murmur of conversations and the clinking of utensils, creating a comforting background noise.
Ellie, always full of energy, was animatedly talking about a new comic she’d found. “You won’t believe this,” she said, leaning in with a conspiratorial grin, “but this one hero has the power to control weather. I’m telling you, if I had that power, I’d totally make it sunny all the time.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Sounds like you’ve been reading too many comics. But I suppose a bit of sunshine wouldn’t hurt.”
Ellie grinned, grabbing a bite of her sandwich. “True, true. But, seriously, how are things going with Joel? You two seem... really happy.”
You smiled, feeling a warm flush at her question. “We are. It’s been nice, spending time together. He’s been really supportive, and I think we’re figuring things out.”
Ellie’s eyes lit up, clearly pleased with your answer. “I’m glad to hear that. He’s been a lot happier since you two started spending more time together. It’s like he’s found a new spark.”
You nodded, feeling a sense of contentment. “It’s been good for both of us. We’re still taking things one step at a time, but it feels right.”
Ellie’s expression turned thoughtful. “I know it’s been rough with everything that’s happened, but it’s nice to see people finding happiness again. Especially you and Joel.”
You appreciated Ellie’s support and her ability to lighten the mood. “Thanks, Ellie. That means a lot.”
Ellie glanced around the dining hall, then back at you with a mischievous grin. “So, are you guys planning any big adventures together? Or just sticking to the small stuff for now?”
You laughed softly. “We’re sticking to the small stuff for now. Just enjoying the moments, we have together.” You paused, “I’m still a little bit scared of him waking up hating me again.”
Ellie’s eyes softened with understanding. “I get that. It’s natural to be scared after everything you’ve both been through. But you’re doing great, and Joel is different now. He’s not going to just wake up one day and hate you.”
You sighed, a mixture of relief and lingering concern in your expression. “I hope you’re right. Sometimes, it’s hard to shake that fear, especially after everything that’s happened.”
Ellie nodded thoughtfully. “I think you both just need to keep talking and being honest with each other. The more you communicate, the more you’ll build that trust. And remember, it’s okay to have those fears. It just means you care.”
You managed a small smile. “Thanks, Ellie. It’s reassuring to hear that.”
Ellie grinned and took a bite of her lunch. “Anytime. And if you ever need someone to talk to or just need a distraction, you know I’m here. We can have a comic marathon or something.”
You laughed, feeling the warmth of Ellie’s support. “That sounds like a plan. I’ll definitely take you up on that.”
As you and Ellie finished your lunch, you stood up to clear your plates, the conversation easing into a comfortable silence. Just as you were about to head to the serving area, you suddenly felt two strong arms wrap around your middle, pulling you into a warm embrace. A soft, affectionate kiss was placed on your cheek, making you feel a surge of happiness and surprise.
You turned your head slightly, finding Joel’s smiling face close to yours. “Hey there,” he said, his voice full of warmth and affection. “I didn’t mean to interrupt, just wanted to steal a moment with you.”
Ellie watched with a grin, clearly pleased with the sight. “Looks like someone’s got a fan club.”
You blushed slightly, leaning into Joel’s embrace. “Hi, Joel. I was just catching up with Ellie.”
Joel’s gaze softened as he looked at you, his hand gently resting on your side. “I figured I’d come and see how you were doing. Plus, I wanted to see if you’d be up for a walk later.”
You smiled, feeling content in his arms. “A walk sounds nice. I’d love that.”
Joel nodded, his eyes twinkling with excitement. “Great. Let’s finish up here and head out.”
You and Joel exchanged a tender glance before you both started to clear your plates. Ellie gave you both a playful nudge. “I’ll leave you two to your walk. Enjoy, and remember, I’m always here if you need me.”
+++++++++++++
“So?” you asked, as Joel was smiling in complete silence.
“So what?” he asked without erasing that smile from his face.
“Aren’t you going to talk?”
Joel chuckled, his smile widening. “I guess I’m just enjoying the moment. It’s not every day I get to be this content.”
You raised an eyebrow, playfully nudging him. “Oh really? And why’s that?”
He looked at you, his gaze tender. “Because being with you like this, just walking and talking, it’s exactly what I’ve wanted. It’s simple and perfect.”
You smiled, feeling a warm glow from his words. “Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying it. So, what’s on your mind?”
Joel glanced around, taking in the scenery before meeting your eyes again. “I was thinking about how nice would be if you go to my place tonight. Ellie’s gonna spend the night with Dina and I want to spend the night with you.”
“That sounds wonderful,” you said with a smile. “I’d love to spend the night with you.”
Joel’s face lit up with a genuine smile, and he took your hand, gently squeezing it. “Great. I was hoping you’d say that.” He leaned and kiss you on the lips, “No I gotta go helping Tommy, see you later, sunshine”
You pouted, grabbing his hand before he could go anywhere “Wait? That was all?”
Joel chuckled softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I thought I’d surprise you with the invitation, and I wanted to make sure you knew how much I enjoy spending time with you.”
You raised an eyebrow, playfully teasing. “Well, I didn’t realize the evening was just an invitation and a kiss goodbye.”
Joel grinned, clearly amused. “Alright, alright. If you want more, I guess I’ll have to come up with something better.” He pulled you into another kiss, this one longer and more lingering.
You smiled against his lips as you pulled away. “That’s more like it. But seriously, I was looking forward to spending time with you.”
Joel’s gaze softened, and he cupped your face gently. “I’m looking forward to it too. Just had to help Tommy out with something. I promise, I’ll make up for it.”
You nodded, still holding onto his hand. “I’ll hold you to that. See you later, Joel.”
He gave you one last smile before heading out, leaving you with a warm feeling and the anticipation of the evening ahead.
+++++++++++++
When you arrived at Joel's place, the sun had just dipped below the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow across the surroundings. Joel greeted you at the door with a welcoming smile and a quick, affectionate kiss.
"Hey, glad you could make it," he said, taking your coat and hanging it up. "I’ve got a few things planned, but we can start with something simple if you’d like."
You stepped inside, feeling the comforting familiarity of Joel’s home. “I’m sure whatever you’ve got planned will be perfect,” you replied, smiling at him.
Joel led you into the living room, where he’d set up a cozy area with blankets and cushions. The room was softly lit by lamps, and the atmosphere was inviting and warm. A few candles were flickering on the coffee table, casting a gentle glow.
“I figured we could start with some dinner and then maybe just talk or something else” Joel suggested, his eyes reflecting the soft light.
You nodded, feeling content with the simple but thoughtful setup. “That sounds great.”
Joel moved to the kitchen and returned shortly with a plate of homemade food—something comforting and hearty. He set it down on the table, then joined you on the couch.
As you both ate, the conversation flowed easily, just like it had during your earlier moments together. You talked about your days, your plans, and even some light-hearted topics. Joel’s presence was reassuring, and you felt completely at ease.
After dinner, Joel suggested putting on some music. He rummaged through his collection, finally settling on a classic that he thought you’d enjoy. You both snuggled up under the blankets, the music playing softly in the background.
Joel occasionally glanced at you, his hand resting casually on your knee. The song played, but most of your attention was focused on the comfort of being next to him, the warmth of his touch, and the quiet contentment that filled the room.
Joel turned to you, his gaze tender. “You know, I’m really glad we’re doing this. Just being here with you, it feels right.”
You smiled, leaning into him. “I feel the same way.”
Joel’s hand moved to gently brush your hair back from your face. “What’s your biggest fear?” he asked out of the blue?
You sighed, leaving his gaze for a moment “You waking up and forgetting you love me”
Joel’s brow furrowed slightly at your answer, a mix of concern and curiosity in his eyes. “Why would you think that? I don’t see any reason why that would happen.”
You took a deep breath, feeling vulnerable as you shared your fear. “It’s just….you knew I told you we didn’t get along before, in fact you hated me, Joel.”
Joel’s eyes softened as he listened to your concern. He took a moment before responding, his voice steady and reassuring. “I know things weren’t easy between us before. And yeah, I didn’t handle things the best way back then. But that’s in the past. What matters now is how we are right now.”
He reached out and gently took your hand in his. “The truth is, I’ve changed. And I see you differently now. I see you for who you are, and I realize how much you mean to me. Whatever those old feelings were? They’re gone. What we have now is real, and I’m committed to it.”
You looked into his eyes, searching for the truth in his words. “But what if one day you wake up and those old feelings come back? What if something changes?”
Joel shook his head, his gaze intense and full of conviction. “I don’t believe that’ll happen. I’ve come to understand how much you mean to me, and how deeply I care about you.”
He squeezed your hand gently, his expression earnest. “I’m not going to let those fears control us. We’re building something strong, and I want to keep building it with you. I’m here, and I’m committed to making sure we have a future together.”
You felt a wave of relief and warmth at his words. “Thank you, Joel. That really means a lot to me.”
Joel smiled softly, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “I’m glad. And if you ever need reassurance, just ask. I’m always here to remind you of how much you mean to me.”
You nestled closer to him, feeling a deep sense of comfort and closeness. The fears that had been troubling you began to fade as you focused on the warmth of his embrace and the sincerity in his voice.
Joel’s gaze lingered on yours, his eyes filled with a mix of tenderness and resolve. Slowly, he leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours. The kiss was gentle at first, a careful exploration of newfound trust and affection.
As the kiss deepened, it became more passionate, conveying all the emotions and reassurances that words alone couldn’t fully capture. Joel’s hand cupped your face, his touch warm and reassuring as he pressed closer.
You responded to the kiss, your own hands moving to rest against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. The kiss felt like a promise, a shared understanding of where you both stood and where you hoped to go.
When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your foreheads touching as you gazed into each other’s eyes. The room seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in this moment of closeness.
Joel’s smile was soft, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I needed to do that. To show you just how much you mean to me.”
You smiled back, your heart full. “I needed that too.”
Joel gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering.
After that, everything happened in a flash. Neither of you realized when you removed your clothes, but there was too much desperation in your touch; you wanted to discover how his fingers could leave a mark on you, tracing invisible lines across your body.
He kissed you again, slipping his tongue past your lips, gasping when he felt your fingers running your fingertips across his bare chest, tracing the lines of a map leading to where you couldn’t stop.
With one of your hands, you pulled him down by his neck to hold you against your lips again. Once you tasted them, you couldn’t get over the taste of them over yours, and you couldn’t get over the whimpers he left in your mouth.
He was hovering over you, giving you a passionate kiss. He was between your legs, exactly where you wanted him.
He pulled his lips away from yours for a moment to glance down at you. To appreciate the features of your face and the nature of your body to admire the features of your face, and the nature of your body being displayed just for him right now. You felt the crimson color rushing up to your checks and for a moment you felt embarrassed under his stare, but he smiled at you.
“You look beautiful”. He swallowed hard, stroking your cheek with his thumb.
His hands on your tights only increased the sparks in the place you wanted him the most, you wanted to follow the path even when you knew it was leading to a treacherous destination.
You continued kissing slowly as he caressed your thighs with his gently touch, as he wanted to worship your body and devour every single sound coming out from your mouth. He kissed you down over your neck, kissing, nipping your skin between his teeth.
And God, he loved the way you were making him feel. The fact this time was different to everything you had experiencing before. At this moment, you weren’t driving for only passionate reasons, but for caring feelings for each other. You weren’t in a rush and that turned him on. He was hard for you and he wanted to meet where religion was, between your thighs.
This time he was making love because he had drowned himself on your religion.
Both of you gasped aloud the moment he began to push slowly inside you. His hands reached for yours, interlocking them as he kissed you softly, muttering, "You're so beautiful like this". He was mesmerized by the way you were nervously giggling and cocking your head back in delight. He bit your neck, prompting your hands to move up to his neck, and his hands ran down your entire body without a layer of clothing on you, focusing on every thrust and diving deep to ensure he was making you happy.
You opened your eyes and stared back at him, entirely focused on you. You couldn't help but roll your eyes as his hands massaged your breasts while he continued to devour your lips. Your back arched, followed by a moan against his lips. Every thrust felt so fantastic, you couldn't help but think you were in the celestial realm You could tell you were getting closer as you squeezed him and kept your gaze fixed on each other. He pushed harder, one hand caressing your cheek and the other gripping your knee to guarantee you fell apart.
The noises you made drove him insane, as he felt himself reaching the edge of the cliff. He wanted to stare at you under him as you came and with a loud gasp, he did it at the same time falling over your exposed chest, your heartbeats mingling.
You moaned softly beneath him, and Joel raised his head to look at you, flashing him a cute smile he hadn't tired of, as you kissed him on the lips.
"I love you so much," he replied, gazing at you with admiration. “I’m so in love with you.”
I love you.
I’m so in love with you.
Those three words were echoing in the shadows of your mind. Your expression softened and you felt your blood rushing. You were sure they had had an impact on you.
“And I love you so much” you whispered back, your voice trembling slightly with the depth of your emotion.
Joel’s expression softened even further, and he brushed a tender kiss against your lips once more. The connection between you was undeniable, a blend of passion and deep affection that had grown stronger with each passing day.
You rested your head on his chest, feeling his heartbeat steady and strong beneath you. The world outside seemed distant and unimportant in the warmth of his embrace. For a moment, everything felt perfect, and you allowed yourself to fully embrace the love and happiness you had found with Joel.
Joel gently ran his fingers through your hair, his touch soothing. “We’ve come a long way, haven’t we?”
You nodded, your eyes closing as you savored the moment. “Yeah, we have. And I wouldn’t change a thing.”
Joel’s arms tightened around you, pulling you closer. “Neither would I. Here’s to more moments like this, and to whatever the future holds for us.”
You smiled, feeling a deep sense of contentment and anticipation for what was to come. “To us,” you agreed, your heart full of love and hope.
+++++++++++
The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. You stirred, waking up with a smile on your face. The previous night’s intimacy and love still lingered, and you turned to look at Joel. He was sleeping peacefully beside you, a contented expression on his face.
As you watched him, you felt a surge of happiness and affection. You reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from his forehead, your heart full of love for him.
But as Joel’s eyes fluttered open and he met your gaze, his expression shifted dramatically. His sparkly brown eyes filled with love, widened in horror, and a look of confusion and fear crossed his face. He pushed himself up, scrambling back slightly.
“What...What the fuck are you doing here?” he asked, his voice trembling with a mix of shock and fear.
You were taken aback, your smile faltering as you tried to make sense of his reaction. “Joel, what’s wrong?”
No. It couldn’t be that, right?
Joel’s eyes were filled with a pained realization. “Oh my god, you came to my house trying to seduce me into sleeping with you?”
You felt a sharp pang of pain at his words, and your heart dropped. The warmth you had felt earlier was replaced by a cold, unsettling feeling.
“No, Joel, that’s not what happened,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the hurt. “We’re in love”
He chuckled. “In love? Me in love with you? I could never” he said.
Your chest tightened, and the hurt in Joel’s words felt like a physical blow. You struggled to keep your composure, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill.
“Joel, you can’t mean that,” you said, your voice shaking. “Last night, you said you loved me. We shared something real.”
Joel’s expression was a mix of confusion and pain. “I don’t remember saying that. Last night I was with Lori”
That’s it. You were back at were you used to be.
The weight of Joel’s words hit you like a punch to the gut. You felt a mix of betrayal and heartache, as the realization sank in. The warmth and affection from the night before felt like a cruel illusion.
“So, what? You’re saying last night meant nothing?” you asked. The tears you had been holding back finally spilled over. “You really don’t remember? You don’t remember how we talked, how you told me you loved me?”
“I don’t love you.” He said, sternly.
“But I’m your sunshine” you sobbed.
Joel’s laughter pierced through you like a blade, and you could barely stand the weight of the realization. Each word he spoke seemed to tear away at the fabric of your heart, unraveling the dream you’d clung to so desperately.
The room felt colder, the air heavier, as you fought to control your sobs. Every touch, every shared moment that had once seemed so real was now reduced to nothing more than painful echoes of a memory that never truly existed.
He didn’t remember the stealing glances, the kisses, the touches and the promises than now seemed to fade with the cruel destiny meeting the ending meant to be.
You had taken a risk at falling in love with the version of a Joel who loved you back, and he didn’t exist anymore. He had faded just when he had told you he loved you.
He didn’t remember falling in love with you, he didn’t remember all the time you spent together, and he didn’t remember loving you, but you didn’t think this would hurt this much.
“Joel” you said, pleading him to remember.
“Out.” He said, gritting his teeth.  
You stood there, the pain in your chest almost unbearable, as Joel's harsh words echoed around you. The warmth and affection you had shared just hours before now seemed like a cruel illusion, shattered by his denial.
"Joel, please," you said, your voice trembling. "Just think about everything we shared. It was real."
Joel’s eyes were hard, and he crossed his arms defensively. “I don't remember any of it. And I can't fake feelings I don't have.”
You felt a deep, profound sadness, the weight of his words making it almost impossible to breathe. The life you had envisioned, the love you had felt, seemed to slip away like sand through your fingers.
“Please, just—” you tried to reason with him, but the look in his eyes made it clear that any further pleading was futile.
Joel’s expression remained firm, a mix of regret and frustration. “Everything I know is that you took advantage of me.”
The sting of Joel's words cut deep, each one echoing the finality of a dream you had cherished. The accusation of taking advantage of him felt like a betrayal, intensifying the emotional agony you were already struggling with.
You took a shaky breath, trying to hold onto the fragments of your composure. "Joel, I never did that. We have something—"
Joel interrupted; his voice cold. "I don’t want to hear it. You need to leave. Now."
The finality in his tone left no room for argument. With a heart heavy with sorrow, you nodded, unable to find the words that might change his mind.
You were only on one of his shirts, trying to find your clothes.
You stumbled through the room, your movements disjointed as you searched for your clothes. The pain and confusion made every action feel like an immense effort. Joel’s gaze remained fixed on you, his face a mask of distant resolve.
You found your jeans, but it was crumpled and stained, and you struggled to put it on with trembling hands. The fabric felt rough against your skin, a stark contrast to the comfort you had felt just hours before. You glanced around for your other belongings, the room now feeling foreign and unwelcoming.
“I... I can’t find my blouse,” you said again, your voice a whisper filled with desperation and trembling.
Joel’s eyes flicked to you briefly before he spoke with a tone that brooked no argument. “Don’t worry about it. Just wear my shirt. I won’t wear it again.” His voice was cold and icy, not more softness as when they used to whisper things on your ear.
The coldness in his words made it clear that there was no room for negotiation or further conversation. You nodded numbly, the shirt you were already wearing now feeling like a heavy shroud setting your skin on fire.
As you finished dressing, you glanced around the room one last time, trying to memorize the space you were leaving behind. The sight of the room, so filled with the promise you fooled yourself onto believing.
There was an intensified the ache in your chest.
Joel stood by the door, his posture rigid as if he were bracing himself for something. His eyes didn’t meet yours, focusing instead on some distant point. The silence between you was heavy with the weight of the broken bond that never existed.
As you pulled on your shoes, your heart cracked completely sank in deeper. You looked up, meeting Joel’s eyes one last time.
“Joel, I’m sorry for everything,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I never meant to cause any harm. I just wanted—”
Joel cut you off with a slight nod, his face still set in a hard expression. “Just go. Please.”
You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat almost making it impossible to speak. The intensity of Joel's gaze, filled with a mixture of pain and indifference, made it clear that any further words would be futile.
With one last, lingering look at him and the room that just yesterday had witnessed three empty words that now didn’t meant anything, you turned and made your way down the hall. Each step felt like a weight lifting off your shoulders, even as the burden of what you were leaving behind pressed heavily on your heart.
As you reached the front door, the cool morning air hit you, providing a stark contrast to the warmth you had felt just hours before. The quiet outside was a jarring reminder of the world that continued, indifferent to the personal turmoil you were experiencing.
With every step, you tried to reconcile the reality you faced with the memories of what you had thought was true, a momentary field of dreams. The pain was sharp and immediate. How would you continue life after losing another love?
+++++++
2K notes · View notes
a-mint-bear · 4 months
Text
Make Me Yours
Male Yandere x Reader
Tumblr media
"I just... really wanna put a collar on a cute guy."
Part 2: "Your One and Only"
You didn't even mean to say it out loud, but your best friend since middle school had always been super open with this sort of stuff. You've always been the first one she texts when a date goes really well, or really terribly. And a lot of your coffee meetups, like this one, devolve into her oversharing all the juicy details of her relationships.
"Oh wow." She nudged you with a grin. "Didn't know you had it in you!"
Unable to meet her eyes, you try to defend your stray thought. You remind her of some of the jerks you've dated, how their assertive and self-assured personalities had all quickly turned into a bit too aggressive and controlling. In certain situations, in controlled doses... that could lead to a nice time. But it's all fun and games until you try to explain away some of their worse moments to your coworkers and swiftly realize you're in "that kind" of relationship. You wonder if you give off some kind of energy that attracts creeps...
The thought of finding a guy who would not only let you take the reins but maybe even prefer you taking charge? It gave you a little thrill you're almost embarrassed to admit.
"Well, it's nothing to get all twisted up over." she shrugs, taking a sip of her iced latte. "You'll find the right guy that's into that kind of thing."
You smiled, she really was trying to encourage you with this, and it was oddly sweet of her.
"Oh, look!" she scooted closer to you, showing you her phone screen. "There's tons of collars you can get. You thinkin' like leather, classic S&M style? Or somethin' more cutesy?"
Maybe a little too encouraging, sometimes.
~ Somewhere very close by...~
His hands were shaking. Your words were playing on repeat in his head, drowning everything else out.
As if you weren't already perfect. He'd been so jealous of you meeting up with your friend, but if it made this conversation happen so he couldn't be too upset about it. He'd been trying to think of some way to make you his for so long... But being yours? Wearing something like that? Something that said he belonged only to you?
He was already yours. But a little proof never hurt.
. . .
It was late, and you decided to cut through the park to get home quicker. It was a pretty safe area, but you didn't want to be here any longer than you had to be. A few lights lit up the main path and you didn't see anyone else around.
But that didn't mean you were alone.
"Hey..."
You spin around to see... some guy. You'd never met him before, but he was... making A LOT of eye contact.
He was cute though. Soft, fluffy hair and piercings in his ears, his bright eyes poking out from beneath his bangs. And he had at least six inches on you, but not really an intimidating frame, a bit skinny too. The way he was looking at you was making you nervous, but you weren't sure if it was a "Oh, this is unexpected." kind of nervous or a "You're gonna end up in his basement." kind of nervous.
"You probably don't remember me but, uh...we had a few classes together last year and…"
He seemed really nervous himself, trailing off with some color in his cheeks. You tell him politely that you were sorry, but you didn't remember him.
"That's okay, uh..."
He was breathing kind of funny, his eyes still staring into yours. You asked him what he needed, hoping it would speed this along and you could leave.
He took a breath, and all you could do was stare, wondering if you should distract him and make a break for it.
"I... I've liked you. For a long time. It's like... like everything about you is just so... wonderful! Seeing you every day keeps me going! I was okay just watching but then... Sorry, sorry. I'm c-coming on too strong, I..."
He took a step towards you, moving like he was going to touch you, but you instinctively took a step back. He looked a little hurt.
"No, no please, don't be scared! I just... I thought it was the right time... I've been thinking about this for so long! I just wanted to..."
He dropped to his knees and the look in his eyes was almost...like he worshipped you. Like you were everything to him and nothing else mattered. It was a bit overwhelming...
"I heard you talking to your friend the other day. Not, uh, not in a weird way, I swear! I-it's just... It's all I can think about..."
He stared at you, a glimmer of something in his eyes. You could see a tremble in his hands, like he was debating reaching out for you again. But he was holding himself back.
Seeing him kneeling, looking up at you with a want that burned into you... It was doing something to you.
This was a weird, kinda scary, unbelievable situation. But it felt so...
Good.
You felt bold. Deciding to go for broke, you finally spoke again.
You asked him to tell you what he wanted.
You could see the tremble shoot through his frame, the smallest, quietest gasp when the your words finally registered.
"I want... I want you to look down at me, just like this! I want you to run your fingers through my hair and tell me I'm a good boy. Your good boy! I want to cuddle up to you and hear your heartbeat while you hold me, I... I want you to use me... I want you to yank my collar if I get too excited and tell me to behave."
He laughed softly at the thought, this guy was completely smitten.
"I want to be yours, if that'll make you happy..."
He reached into his back pocket, you heard the gentle clink of the collar before you saw it. It was like some kind of odd proposal, except he was down on both knees.
He held it up to you, his eyes clouded with a want that made your face feel hot.
So painfully slowly, you reached out for him, your fingers flinching back for a split second, rational thought desperately trying to break through. But despite all the reasons you could think this was completely crazy, you still wanted this.
You touched his cheek, and he didn't hesitate to lean into your hand with a contented, dreamy sigh.
The power he was giving you was... new, exciting, maybe a bit intoxicating. And he was offering it all so willingly, you wondered if this was all a dream.
"I wanna be your good boy..." His voice was soft but pleading, almost desperate. "Please..."
His smile was making your brain feel fuzzy, seeing him looking up at you like you were his whole world.
"Make me yours."
2K notes · View notes
riptides-n-roses · 3 months
Text
prey - the bloodline (18+)
Tumblr media
⛧ pair - the bloodline (roman reigns, jimmy uso, jey uso, solo sikoa) x reader
⛧ warnings - unprotected p in v. primal play, degrading, masturbation, lots of positions, exhibitionism, cre@mpies, oral (m! and f! receiving), crying (from pleasure), obviously minors should not be interacting ♡
⛧ this is also my very first smut so please be patient with me as i didn't have any proof-reading done :(
⛧ the bloodline has been chasing you all night backstage. scared to your wits, you thought you have found somewhere safe to hide, hoping to escape. only to be caught and surrounded by the four men, hungry of whatever they wanted from you.
⛧ word count: 3.7K
Tumblr media
Run
Run
Run
The only word circling your head. You were backstage, running as fast as you could to get away from four hungry men, chasing you like fresh meat. The Bloodline has had their eyes on you for a while now. They took notice on how you wrestled against the different female superstars. They have watched your every move. And now, they are hunting you down. But why?
You were so exhausted, barely able to catch yourself and you heard the twins call out for you.
“Mamas, there’s no need to run away!”
“Come on out, darling. You can’t resist us and you know it.”
You ignored their taunts and hid behind several crates, taking your chance to catch yourself. Panting from how much you ran, adrenaline spiked to a level you have never felt before. Noticing a small crack of light through the crates, you slowly made your way to it, peeking out to see if any members of The Bloodline were nearby. Not to your surprise, you see Jey and Solo standing nearby, talking about where they last seen you.
“I could’ve sworn she went that way.” Jey whined. “Do you know where she could be?”
Solo shrugged.
Jey sighed “Keep looking. I’m going to find the Tribal Chief and see what he says.”
That’s when your heart stopped. Roman Reigns. The Tribal Chief. The Head of The Table. He was looking for you as well. He is usually patient when it came to getting what he wanted. He was an enigma when it came to that. It would feel scary to be in front him as he was your predator. If he were to find you, who knows what could’ve happened.
It was a game of chance, where you wouldn’t know what would happen if any of them found you. You quietly let a sigh of relief, after seeing the two figures walk away in separate directions, only to realize you were still hiding. You quickly held your breathe, trying to contain yourself from panicking, planning a way to escape and leave the arena. You slowly got up and left the crates, and started walking until you felt a pair of arms swoop you up.
“Found you, sweet thing.” It was Roman. He set you up on his shoulder and carrying you away from the crates. “Did you seriously think you could escape your Tribal Chief? How adorable.” He cooed.
You felt your heart beat fast. You were caught. You didn’t know what was going to happen to you. You were trembling on his shoulders, unaware as to why he wanted you in the first place. As Roman made his way to the other 3 men while carrying you, he was smiling, finally catching what’s been driving him wild.
“Damn Ro. Looks like you found her” Jimmy chuckled. The four men then went to take you to a car, opening one of the car doors and gently placing you in a seat. You couldn’t speak or do anything. You froze in fear, afraid of what they wanted.
.•°☆.⋆。⋆☆•˚。⋆。˚•☆˚。⋆.☆•°.⋆
You were brought to a hotel room, placed down on a bed with a blindfold covering your eyes so you couldn’t see what the Bloodline were doing. Your breath hitched feeling four hands gently exploring your body, not knowing that the twins were testing your limits – admiring how your body reacted to their fingers.
“Enjoying yourself, mamas?” Jimmy playfully asked you, feeling his hands grope your breasts. You felt your panties get damp from all the sensations you were feeling in that moment – your legs pathetically trying to close.
“Do you know why we were looking for you all night?” Jey chimed in, slowly making his way to your pants “You drive all of us mad – ever since you came here, you’ve made quite a name for yourself. The way you compete, the way you talk, hell, everything about you makes us hungry.” Your cheeks were warm to this reveal – You were too afraid to even come close to any member of The Bloodline. The way they took down every single opponent that dared to cross them, especially the Tribal Chief. You were craving for at least one member of the faction to fuck you braindead, probably never expected for something like this to happen. You lost your train of thought feeling a pair of lips going up your neck, making their way up to your ear.
“Tell us, Y/N” Jimmy whispered. “Aren’t you hungry for us too?” You gasped feeling him nibble on your ear as Jey began to take off your pants. “You don’t have to be shy.”
You were about to say something before you felt your top and bra come off, shivering from the air hitting your nipples. Jimmy hummed in approval before he started to tug them roughly.
“I…” You started to respond, taking a breath, “I am” The four men chuckle to this reveal.
“In that case, sweet thing.” You hear Roman tease. “Let us have our way with you." After those words were spoken, Roman took a seat, admiring the show as Solo stood beside him, hungrily watches how your body twitches with each gentle touch. Finally, Jey removes your pants to reveal a soaked cunt covered by a pair of panties, eagerly waiting to be used. He kept eye contact with you as he took your underwear off just waiting to see what he’ll do next.
“I think we know how this will go now, darling” Jey finally responded. “Don’t you agree, uce?” looking at his twin brother. “Oh certainly.” Jimmy added “Here, mamas spread your legs and relax.”
You spread your legs wide, allowing Jey to get a better view of your glistening cunt as he begins to hold your legs apart. “You look so delicious; I wonder what you taste like.” Jey growled. As you opened your mouth, you felt his warm tongue slide up and down your clit, not breaking eye contact watching as you melt in front of all four men while blindfolded only seeing pitch black. Jimmy began playing with your hard, sensitive nipples as he started to leave steamy kisses all over your neck. You whined from the sensations you were feeling, the steamy kisses, rough hands groping you, a warm tongue playing with your clit, sliding up and down. Roman smirked seeing you moan and whine, begging for more, feeling his bulge throb through his pants, trying his best to not pounce and do whatever he pleased to you.
“F-fuck!” You sobbed, shaking from Jey’s tongue going in and out of your pussy, your breast being played with and kisses being left all over. You felt like you were going to explode, feeling your stomach tighten from the sensations. “Please…”
“You’re going to cum, baby?” Jey teased as he stopped licking your pussy, allowing his fingers to circle your clit. “Come on, make a mess all over yourself. We want to see it.” You couldn’t take it anymore, “I-I need to- “
Before you could finish, your face was turned and you felt Jimmy kissing you roughly, muffling your moans and cries as Jey removes his fingers and plunges his tongue deep in your pussy again, Jimmy squeezing your tits hard and rough as he continues kissing you. As you finally hit your orgasm, you whined into Jimmy’s mouth, cumming all over Jey’s face, your legs trying to close. You could hear Roman chuckle as he watched you ride out your orgasm, Jimmy finally letting your mouth rest, a trail of spit following as well.
With a nod of approval from Roman, finally Jimmy took the blindfold off you – allowing you to see everything surrounding you as your clit throbbed for more attention.
“Ready for more, baby?” Jey asked you, taking his shorts off to reveal his hard cock. Your eyes widened, thinking to yourself how you’ll take it, or how it’ll fit in you. “Now now, mamas. Don’t forget about me either.” You turned your head to see Jimmy without his pants and boxers as well, your cheeks becoming warm. “Now turn over. Jey is going to fuck you while you suck me off.” You turn around to face Jimmy and position yourself on all fours. Making sure your pussy was exposed in front of Jey, you gasped feeling Jey position himself, slapping his tip onto your clit. “Easy doll.”
You cried out feeling Jey push himself into you, your clit throbbing from sensation. It was thick and a little painful, small tear forming in your eyes.
“Aww. Is Jey too much for you mamas? Here.” Jimmy teased, slapping his dick on your face before pushing it in your mouth. You began to adjust to Jey’s size, muffled moans escaping you while you began to bop your head up and down on Jimmy’s length. Jey starts to thrust slowly into you, making sure that you’re not in any pain. His thrusts began to slowly speed up, making your walls clench. Both twins groaning from how good you feel – Jimmy making you take every inch of him in your mouth, his hands grabbing your hair tight and pushing you down further, making you gag a bit. “Fuck, mamas.” Jimmy growled “Your mouth feels amazing.”
Jey chuckled giving you a hard slap across your ass, as his hips buck up with yours, “You like how I fuck your pretty cunt, baby? Do you want some more?” Your sounds were a mix of moaning and trying to grasp for air from how tightly Jimmy was using your hair as handle bars. God, you felt so full, finally getting what you craved for. Finally, being stuffed in a way you haven’t felt before. Both twins’ thrusts get harder and faster, making your stomach tighten again – slowly reaching your second orgasm of the night.
Your muffled moans were driving Roman crazy, waiting impatiently to fuck your brains out. Solo, who knows he’s next, has been watching how your body reacted to each thrust in your pussy and mouth – feeling his bulge get harder and harder with your soft cries and moans.
“Are you ready, baby? I’m going to cum soon – I’m going to fill your tight pussy with my cum.” Jey groaned, feeling his cock throb inside of you. “Me too, mamas? Are you ready for me to fill your mouth while you cum too?” Jimmy chuckled. You looked up to the eldest twin, nodding quickly with blurry eyes, feeling your stomach tighten. “Good girl”
With Jey picking up his pace, thrusting disgustingly faster, you whined feeling your stomach tighten even more, like a jack in the box.
“Get ready, doll”
You finally reached your orgasm, your muffled screams tighten your pussy as Jey thrusted one more time, - making his seed explode deep in you. Jimmy pushes your face down, his cum going to the back of your throat, growling as all three of you ride out an orgasm. Jimmy slowly pulls his cock out of your mouth, allowing your lungs air while Jey slowly pulls out of you, your pussy leaking with his cum and throbbing from the roughness. Your entire body shaking from how hard you came this time. Jimmy gently lifts your face up with his finger, giving you hot kisses all over your lips “That was amazing, mamas. You did so so well. Now it’s Solo’s turn – Be good okay?” You nodded as he gotten up, pulling his pants back up and giving you another kiss.
Jey gives you a gentle slap on the ass again, as he also gets up and puts his pants back on. “I’m so proud of you, doll.” He turns your face to meet his and gives you a sweet little kiss before he leaves with his twin out of the room.
Your breaths were hoarse, your abused throat made it hard for you to get more air. You looked and see Solo and Roman look at you with full amusement. Roman gives a gesture to Solo, allowing him to have his turn playing with you.
As Solo gotten closer to you, he gets his pants off, his dick poking through his boxers. Your brain still foggy from your previous orgasm, you look into his eyes with pure lust – You can’t wait for what he wanted to do to you.
“Ready for more, princess?” he asked, his hand reaching down to your clit, sliding his finger up and down. You whine from how sensitive your cunt was – you could already feel how wet you were getting again. “Answer me.”
“Ye…Yes.” You replied, wanting Solo to abuse your holes. He smiled and puts his tongue into yours, having a hot and steamy kiss session – Feeling his fingers play with your clit a little faster. He was amused with the way you whine and cry for his fingers to go inside your walls - still throbbing from Jey. “Good. Now lay on your back.” He chuckled removing his fingers from your sensitive hole. You were getting impatient, laying on your back against the soft pillows, spreading your legs. Solo’s eyes were full of hunger and lust for you as he removed his shorts. Your clit throbbed from the sight of his hard, thick cock – just ready for him to make you cum again. Solo positioned himself, slapping himself on your cunt, trying his best not to push himself all the way in you.
Without warning, he slowly pushes himself into you, growling from how wet you were, your whines making your walls tighten – He was incredibly thick. You felt like his cock would poke through your stomach. He gently grabs your throat, squeezing a bit as he thrusts into you, your choked cries making him go harder. “Fuck, princess. You’re taking me so well.” His praises make you look into his eyes begging for him to go faster.
“Y-You’re so big! I’ll cum too fast” You moaned, loving how rough he was thrusting into you – forgetting that Roman was next, you felt your stomach tighten scared of what he’ll do to you. As Solo pushed in and out of you, he burrowed his face onto one of your tits, roughly sucking your nipple as his grip gotten a little tighter on your neck.
“You’re gonna cum again, Princess? I know you want to.” Solo groaned, knowing he was getting close from being rough with you, lifting his face away from your tits and seeing your eyes roll back. You were trying to make sentences but your stomach kept getting tighter. This was exactly what you wanted. “I’m trying not to cum too fast. You’re so tight and needy. You’re doing so good.” He released his grip on your neck and intertwined his fingers with yours, your other hand touching his face.
“I.. I need to cum!” You sobbed, small tears forming from how rough Solo’s thrusts were – his fat cock continuously hitting your sensitive spots. “Yeah? You wanna cum? Cum with me, princess. I got you.” He teased as his thrusts get sloppy – knowing he was holding back from releasing his cum in you.
You let out a high-pitched scream, as you came all over Solo’s cock, one last thrust before his seed burst in you, your vision only seeing white. You knew exactly what was about to happen next. After riding out your orgasm, Solo pulled out of you and leaned in to kiss you deeply, his fingers playing with your hair. “Fuck, princess…You drained me. Let me fix you up.” He gently lifted you up, making sure you weren’t hurt or anything before he kissed you again. Your eyes turned to see a sexually frustrated Roman, sitting in his chair, looking directly at you. You knew he was going to be the roughest with you. Solo then got up, putting his pants, and fixing himself back up.
After he left, you slowly turned to Roman. The Samoan man cocked his head to the side, admiring how your breath hitched from how many rounds of sex. Your pussy still throbbing and leaking cum. He enjoyed seeing how your face looked, hungry for whatever he wanted to do to you. Your stomach dropped when Roman finally got up from his chair making his way toward you.
“Come here.” He motioned for you to get closer on the edge of the bed. Without hesitation, you crawled up to him, your eyes looking into his. He smiled, admiring how exhausted you looked, your hair all messy. “Look at you, still horny after two rounds. You’re a dirty slut, aren’t you?” his words with a sexual undertone. Your cheeks were warm to his degrading. His rough hands exploring your body as you shivered from his touch. You wondered what he might do to you. Noticing his large bulge on his pants, you slowly reached for it. He took noticed and chuckled. “Go ahead, babygirl.”
With his approval, you slowly pulled down his pants, revealing his huge, veiny cock. Your mouth watered from the sight in front of you. You stuck your tongue out and gave soft kitty licks to his tip, he grabbed a handful of your hair and pushed your head further down his shaft. You gagged from how big he was, your pussy throbbing for some attention. While sucking him off, your fingers made its way to your clit, making small circles around your pearl – a wave of goosebumps hitting your back. Your muffled moans and grasps for air turned him on. He was amused to how tiny you looked under him.
“That’s right, baby. Take every inch of my cock.” Roman muttered, admiring the way you kept your eyes on him while your lips were around his cock. You could feel yourself getting wetter to his words, your throat being abused over and over. His praises made you throb with impatience, just begging for him to be inside of you.
His grip tightening around your hair and pushing your head down even more, making you gag from his thick length.
You felt so unclean – rubbing circles on your clit, desperate to slip a finger in your walls, sucking every inch of him and not breaking eye contact. You wanted to please him. Your cheeks were warm as he thrusted in your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat. Your gags made him want to force his seed down your throat. But he had another idea. What seemed like an eternity, he ripped his cock out of your mouth.
You choked, pouting that he didn’t fill your mouth with his seed. Roman placed his grip on your throat – he loved seeing you beg for his attention, beg for him to use you the way he wanted. “Impatient, are we?” He mocked how you wanted more with a flirtatious tone. You wouldn’t dare to speak.
He chuckled and in that second, he swiftly picking you up, taking a seat on the bed, and set you down on his lap, aligning his cock to your pussy – You gasped feeling his tip slowly stuffing you, adjusting yourself before he pushed his whole length into you. “Oh fuck..” You cried, wrapping your arms around him as he stretched you out, “I know, babygirl.” His words made you clench – making you fight the urge to cum right there on the spot.
His hand placed on your hip, the other grabbing your ass cheek as he began to thrust in you, deep, slow strokes to let you adjust to his size. You tightened your arms around him, holding him tightly as waves of pleasure hit your body. His gaze on your face – he loved how your faces looked while he stuffed you of him, your mouth open with your tongue out. Your breasts jiggling from each bounce on his cock. He loved how you melted for him – how you craved for him.
“You’re so cute like this, baby. The way you melt from how I fuck you. Is that what you’ve wanted for sometime now? Come on. Tell me how bad you wanted this.” His words muffled from your chest. Your breath was shaky, moaning from how he hit your spot everytime he thrusted into you.
“So bad…” You whined. Wanting him to go faster, You could feel your orgasm coming soon.
“Good girl. For now on, you’re going to be my little toy. Only I can touch you and fuck you like this. Understood?” He ordered, tightening his grip around you and thrusting faster.
“Ye-Yes Ro-“
“Yes what, baby. Say it correctly.”
“Yes…D-Daddy..”
“Good girl.”
You throw your head back, not realizing that you signed yourself with him, to be his to use, to make others aware that you belong to him. But you didn’t care. You craved for him to use you like this, for him to hunt you down like this, to be his prey. Your stomach started to tighten as he lifted his head up and kissed your roughly – the sensations you were feeling in this moment made you not want it to stop. You wanted him to keep fucking you like this, you wanted him to make it known to everyone that you’re only his.
“You feel so good, babygirl. You’re taking me so well.”
His praises made you whimper, getting desperate to cum all over his cock. Swiftly, He laid back making his cock stuff you further.
You sobbed into the crook of his neck as his thrusts get faster and sloppier, knowing he was going to cum soon. He felt so good inside of you, you were begging for him to cum in you. You whined when you felt him deliver a harsh slap on your ass and gripping it tightly. You dug your nails into him from how rough he was with you.
“Daddy’s got you, babygirl. Fuck you feel so good.” He growled, knowing he was getting close too. You felt yourself getting closer.
“I-I need to cum! Please, daddy. I need to- “You moaned, your legs beginning to shake. “I know, babygirl.” He growled, admiring the way you were holding back.
You screamed as you came undone on him, your eyes rolling back from the sensation, Roman following behind as he held you tightly as he came, emptying his seed inside of you. His dark chocolate eyes staring into your face – his lips quick to meet with yours and leaving hot kisses all over your face.
“Holy shit…” He groaned, keeping his cock in you as you rode out your orgasm. You and Roman were breathing heavily from the intense round of sex. Your eyes never leaving his before he kissed you again.
“You’re mine now.”
Tumblr media
694 notes · View notes
satorhime · 1 year
Text
on the ground ˚₊· gojo satoru + nanami kento. ── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ content : : f!reader, explicit smut, threesome + cuckholding, reader n gojo r in an established relationship, public foreplay (on an empty train), oral sex (m + f receiving), face sitting, spanking, degradation, teasing, praise, fingering, handjobs, double penetration (sort of), unprotected sex, size kink, creampie, cum play, squirting, snowballing, messy nasty smut w / lots of pet names lol ・。・ w.c. 15.6k.
── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ synopsis & notes : nanami is awarded his apology, and more. part two of off the table, but can be read as a standalone. + ໒꒰ྀི ⸝⸝⸝⸝ ꒱ྀིა ⊹ omg omg i finally, FINALLY completed this fic. i struggled a lot with the direction i wanted this story to go in, but i'm finally satisfied and can share it with everyone. i hope you enjoy it & expect errors because it's an absolute chunk of words. thank u 2 @fushisslut for beta reading <333
Tumblr media
nanami kento is out of his mind. 
you see, he must be. that’s the only reasonable explanation for his behavior tonight. when people perceive him, they see him as a stable man with a level head on his shoulders. they take in the pristine cut of his designer suits, the glimmer of his luxury wristwatch, and they can’t help but see the prime example of a professional jujutsu sorcerer. his technique isn’t a lightshow to impress others, but consists of preordained, calculated mathematics for him to achieve the best results in a fight. even the higher ups trust him more because they’re soothed by his polite speech, strategic outlook, and solid reliability— because he can be summed up into one safe, khaki-colored box that will never pose a threat to their way of order, even if he disagrees with it. 
normal. standard. boring. 
but every sorcerer has a flaw, a trigger nestled deep inside of them just waiting to spring them into insanity. it can be anything, really— a fight with a formidable opponent or your favorite coffee shop getting your morning order wrong on a bad day. nanami’s own flaw is a crack in the perfect design of his foundation that can be exploited way too easily if you know where to look for it. 
and gojo satoru knows the exact location. 
while nanami has tried his best to ignore the tension crackling like a steady current between you and him, satoru sees everything. his crush on you is obvious though. written all over his handsome expression when you simply smile at him or your shoulders brush in a crowded meeting room and nanami makes the mistake of looking down to snap at you to give him space, only to be enraptured by the sight of your pretty face and lower, the print of your cute little nipples pressing through the thinner fabric of your tight sorcerer’s uniform. his ears pinkening up like strawberry syrup swirled on top of milk. 
the fact that he jolts awake almost every night from wet dreams about you, cock dripping wet in his briefs can’t be written on his face, but it happens. making him feel adolescent, green as fresh grass, when he has to slip a hand into his underwear and fuck against his dry palm with your name whispered desperately on his tongue until he cums, messy and full of shame, all over his belly. 
nanami kento’s weakness is a woman off limits. 
perhaps gojo should feel possessive and territorial that another man has such blatant feelings for his pretty girlfriend, but gojo feeds it like cupid with a heart-shaped arrow. only feeling like a winner in the long game he plays. and tonight, well, tonight is living proof of that. 
right now, you’re strolling ahead of nanami with gojo’s long arm thrown lazily around your shoulders. the three of you are heading leisurely towards the train station, as if you’re like everyone else out on a weekend night— casual colleagues walking home together after a boring company outing.
the city at this hour is alive, a kaleidoscope of movement and bright, twinkling energy. usually, nanami would enjoy a walk like this under the starlit night, tilt his head up and inhale the fresh breeze as he walks the long way home to unwind after a long shift but he just can’t, not tonight. not when he’s strung out and so fucking hyperfocused on your every move. not when the noise from the neon billboards flash loud advertisements, bustling shopfronts, and drunken giggles from twenty-somethings stumbling out of upscale bars washes away all rational thought from nanami’s skull until all he can think about is you.
it’s humiliating. his self-control over his own actions is usually adamant, an indomitable shell around his being that should have kept him from giving in to his desire to fuck all traces of gojo satoru from your body, but how can he really resist it? he should have known better than to get up from that table and follow the two of you home, but it’s too late to turn back now. especially when the colorful streetlights illuminate your frame to him, the late night breeze stirring the flowy hem of your expensive little cocktail dress— giving him a flash of the supple swell of your naked ass cheeks, panties still tucked away in gojo’s pocket. 
gritting his teeth, nanami tries to look away but he’s locked in. picking up on the slight limp in your walk instead— no doubt from the rough way gojo fingerfucked you under the table earlier. the memory of desperate tears glazing over your big doe eyes as you pleaded for them both, begging nanami to give you permission to cum, twists a serrated knife into the mass of hot arousal already simmering in the pit of his gut. 
you’ve got him entranced, just like that, staring at the soft jiggle of your ass until gojo notices and kisses his teeth, smoothing the hem of your dress down in mock chivalry as he glances back at nanami with a bright sparkle in his quicksilver blue eyes, blackout sunglasses slid low on his pretty nose and grinning with those fanged incisors gleaming in the moonlight like a predator.
god, nanami hates the way his mouth runs dry at that look. 
Tumblr media
“it’s just like old times, eh?”
 gojo leers out as soon as the three of you pile onto the train. his crude vocals are too loud, slashing through the quiet to bounce against the big metal walls. blinding fluorescent lights buzz overhead, casting an eerie green glow. 
“i don’t know what you’re referring to, gojo-san,” nanami lies breezily, pinching the bridge of his nose to alleviate the headache forming behind his brow at the teasing sound of gojo’s voice. “if you could please be quiet now.” 
oh, but nanami knows exactly what the other man is referring to, doesn’t he? the unique moments in life when gojo satoru and nanami kento operated on the same wavelength. younger days before nanami left for university abroad at copenhagen, drunken nights in the dorm at jujutsu high after tough missions. dares and childish games that led to beer-flavored spit swapped between giggling peers. a lost bet. nanami never backing down from a challenge. suguru dutifully filming with a cracked flip phone as gojo mouthed down the length of nanami’s cock— 
he was a madman for playing gojo satoru’s games then, and he definitely is one now. 
“what’s like old times?” you pipe up with a question, breaking through nanami’s thoughts. your head bobbles between the two men rudely leaving you out of the conversation, confusion wrinkling your pretty features. “what are you two whispering about?” 
nanami grits his jaw, refusing to elaborate, but gojo huffs out the beginning of a chuckle and parts his lips to answer you. be it for dick, pussy, or spilling secrets better left buried, he can never keep his mouth shut, can he?
“mmm, nothing you need to worry that pretty head about tonight, angel,” he shrugs, a lazy smirk settling on his pink lips. the threads of patronization laced through his words makes you even more curious, though. “we’re just reminiscing.” 
his long arm curves around your neck after that, tugging you towards him. bending his head down to press his nose against your hair affectionately, breathing in the scent of your shampoo in a gentle kiss obviously meant to disarm your questions. 
and of course, it doesn’t work. 
“oh, i see,” you nod, like you’ve cracked the code. eyes fluttering down into narrowed slits at the both of them. “you two shared many women before like this, have you? is that what you’re talking about?” 
it doesn’t sound like an accusation. after all, you know how experienced your boyfriend’s appetite is, but the words come out a little more bitter than you intend. satoru quirks a snowy brow, still gleaming his signature grin. how would you react if you knew their truth, their history? 
“we have not,” that was kento, finally speaking up to clarify when it’s his reputation on the line, earnestly hoping that you’ll drop the subject. 
“but we’ve shared each other,” and that was satoru, cupping his hand to your ear like he’s spilling a juicy little scandal. 
“o-oh-” 
whatever answer you expected, it wasn’t that. 
your mouth opens to ask another question, but a safety recording cuts the conversation short before the train lurches forward, speeding out of the station. soon, you’re out in the city— skyscrapers and bright lights blurring past the windows at breakneck speed. 
gojo’s cue now that you’re temporarily sealed away from civilization. 
he leans against a pole, smirking against your hair. his hand caresses a path down your front slowly, and you momentarily forget how to breathe, sucking in your tummy because it’s starting again— his nasty fucking game. 
and for the first time, there is a third player. 
“remember the last time you tired putting your hand up my skirt on a train, gojo satoru?” you remind him as his hand begins to slither into the cleavage of your dress, disappearing under the fabric to shamelessly cup one of your breasts, giving it a gentle knead and making you bite down on a gasp. “not to mention, there’s cctv right there-” 
“how was i supposed to know there was an officer right across from us?” 
“you literally have the six eyes, satoru.” 
“shut up.” he huffs. “what are you so worried for anyway? we’re alone, and that guy won’t tell anyone what we’ve been up to. he wants you just as much as i do, right nanamin?” 
“i was under the impression you invited me back to your home, not to get arrested,” nanami retorts dryly, but his tone is a complete contradiction to the look in his honey brown eyes. he is staring across the train car at you with so much open lust, his intensive gaze simmers heat all the way underneath the surface of your skin, making you squirm even more. it’s that look in his eyes alone, like he wants to ruin you for your own boyfriend, that makes each move of gojo’s a little more than proprietorial. a farewell to his darling baby before he auctions you up for the taking. 
only, he surely intends on taking you back at the end of the night because you belong to him. but only after he checks off a certain box— after he burns the vision of you getting fucked on another man’s cock while he watches into his temporal lobe. 
“i’m not worried about nanami-san,” you frown, rolling your eyes, “i’m worried about the cctv.” 
“i’ll handle it,” he promises, his voice dark and low. he kisses your ear with a whisper that sends a hot shudder down the curve of your spine. “why don’t you go and greet nanami properly while i do, sweet girl? he’s over there all by himself.” 
your head whips around, eyes wide at his suggestion. nothing can really surprise you about the six-foot-three smirking egomaniac you’re dating at this point. that limp in your walk, the cooling slick still coating your sticky thighs from your last orgasm, and your missing pair of ruined panties are a testament to his want to fuck you in every location, in every way possible. to etch his mark into the world that stands at his feet, one drop of cum at a time. 
even if it means offering you up to nanami kento like a sacrificial lamb plump and ready for the slaughter. 
and you? you’re perfectly fine with being a sacred contribution left at his alter. 
“or are you scared?” gojo wonders, glancing over at the other man.
it’s not just a meaningless taunt. both you, and nanami can hear the weight behind the question. it’s a chance to back out. a consent form. he may be a greedy, overpowered sorcerer with an insatiable love for dirty fucking but he respects nanami, and he respects you above all else. you’re the love of his life, a little piece of his soul living outside of his body, and he knows how many steps he can take outside of the box before he runs into boundaries. and though you never back down from one of his challenges, though your mind is honey coated in lust, you lift your gaze to the ex-salaryman and you consider him, one final time. 
anyone with a pair of eyes can appreciate the beauty in nanami kento. he is all sharp contours and deep tenor. timeless handsomeness that reminds you of an old money heartthrob from the sixties, or a classic comic book hero. nanami may be the complete opposite of your boyfriend, austere and jaded, but you would be lying if you said you weren’t attracted to him, that you did not enjoy the steadiness of conversations with him and the few, ill-delivered dry jokes he indulges in from time to time. perhaps it was the throb in your clit convincing you, or the memory of him demanding you be a good girl and cum for them both back at the restaurant, but god, you fucking wanted him.
no, you wanted them both, and you would deal with your shame for it in the daylight hours.  
“don’t you know me at all, gojo satoru?” you finally break the silence with a confident smile, making gojo snort at you before he shoves you off the deep end— hands on your shoulders to nudge you into stepping across the train car until you stop in front of nanami. 
he is the only one sitting down, watching you approach with that stoic expression of his. at first glance, he looks utterly unimpressed, but you should have known better as your legs bump his spread knees and you glance down, getting a glimpse of the outline of his hard cock bulging against the tight inseam of his khaki slacks. 
your breath shortens into a needy pant. wondering what it would feel like weighing your tongue down after you’ve wriggled him out of that boring designer suit of his? or how much it would make your hips ache as it stretched your cunt out until you soak gojo’s expensive sheets down to the last thread? 
warmth blooms over the skin of your cheeks as his sharp eyes follow your line of sight. he quirks an amused brow, catching your shameless stare locked on his lap. he barely shifts under the attention, no slouch in the posture he holds with an easy confidence. “didn’t anyone ever tell you that it’s rude to stare at a cock you don’t plan to sit on, young lady?” 
“who says i don’t plan to sit on it, nanami-san?” you mouth off, even as your knees weaken under the weight of his authoritative tone. you hear gojo scoff in amusement, still leaning against that pole, arms still folded as he watches the scene unfold— playing out just how he wants it. 
“you’re still standing, obviously,” he points out, and how he makes such simple words sound like honey spread over velvet you don’t know, but the deep, flat timbre of his monotone flutters a lick of arousal through your belly. 
“do you want me to?” 
“come here and sit, back facing to me,” he instructs, gesturing to his lap. he doesn’t even think about putting his hands on you, no matter how desperately he wants to, letting you build up the courage to obey someone new. instead, he unfastens the buttons on his blazer slow, one by one, before removing his goggles and tucking them away into an inner breast pocket. sandy hair tinted slightly green under the lighting in the train as he waits for you. it isn’t easy for him to fight the more reckless part of himself when you’re standing there, staring at him like this, and he’ll be ashamed tomorrow to say that he didn’t even try. “well?” 
behind you, gojo wears a dangerous smirk. temple of his skull resting against the cold steel of the balance pole, content to watch his girlfriend climb into the lap of another man. you’re thankful that the subway car the three of you are in is deserted. you had kept your head down when satoru shamelessly flicked his wrist at the mechanical sliding doors as other passengers tried to board, slamming it shut in their confused faces and twisting the metal into a makeshift lock with cursed energy so that no one else is around to witness what you’re doing. 
you settle until your back meets nanami’s firm chest, your heart beating erratically. the sorcerer’s muscled arm feels warm through the sleeves of his tailored jacket as he wraps it around your torso, pulling you securely against him. embarrassment makes you shy as you realize that you’re sitting on your coworker’s lap with no panties on underneath your dress, his wide stance forcing your thighs to spread— rucking your dress up past your hips and exposing your pretty pussy to gojo’s twinkling gaze. 
“the cctv-” 
gojo nods, and you whimper softly as he shifts to stand a little taller, smartly placing his massive stature in front of the camera embedded in the beam above your heads. “that’s that,” he claps, then he lifts a brow, “oi, oi. you gonna take all night? our stop is next.” 
“not everyone is quick as you, gojo-san,” nanami snorts at his own little joke before he dips his head, pressing his nose to your pulse point. his eyes shut in pure ecstasy as he breathes in a gust of your perfume. scented like ruination, supple like forbidden fruit laid over his lap— he can’t resist pressing his lips to your neck first, his veined hand cupping your face, thick fingers curled under your chin to guide your head in his direction afterwards. “she deserves my patience.” 
“tch.” gojo rolls his eyes.
nanami has always been a quiet man. he doesn’t speak unless spoken to and barely then, refusing to make idle small talk and declining offers to mingle after work with his colleagues, but you know what he wants without words. your own fingers move, brushing over the buzzed wisps of hair at the nape of his neck as he parts his lips. tender in the way he finally tastes you, in the way he suckles your plump lower lip into his mouth.
you’re unfamiliar, but your kiss feels decadent to him and already, he’s determined to learn you. how many times had he lost focus in a meeting, wondering how you would feel on his lips, his tongue, his cock? the blond sorcerer presses his thumb against the middle of your cheek, keeping your jaw parted so that he can pet his tongue over yours until you gasp desperately into his mouth. 
the kiss is slower than what you’re used to, but nanami gives you passion, even though he’s a stranger to your body— a scene that your boyfriend watches with hungry, almost envious eyes. you can feel the burn of his stare from across the metal car. seeing you writhe all over his kouhai’s lap, twisting your fingers in his short hair, sucking his lower lip into your mouth, makes hot need churn in the pit of gojo’s gut to take his place.
he’s supposed to be blocking the cctv, but he can’t help it. before he knows it, he’s crossing the space of the train in a few strides, taking a seat next to you and nanami. 
you jolt when you feel the familiar weight of satoru’s big hand splay out over your thigh. heart beating erratically. saliva coating your lips and you whine because you’re desperate for more, but you don’t have to wait long. 
“my turn, sugar,” satoru grins, tucking a finger under your chin to pull your head away from nanami and towards him.
you go to him easily, no care at all that the security cameras are watching you bounce between the two men and their touches. letting your boyfriend smooth your hair away from your face before he cups your cheeks, sparks dancing down your spine as he kisses you insistently, urging you immediately into a hungrier slide of your lips against his own. 
“oh,” you sigh, and satoru shushes you with his wet tongue between your lips. he loves tonguing you down, leaving you breathless with the hunger he feels for you. sweetness of the dinner wine he spit into your mouth earlier lingers in the kisses he gives you.
it’s easy to get lost in him, to bathe in the attention when someone like gojo satoru is willing to give it to you. you’re so lost in his kiss that you almost miss the sound of nanami’s sudden, muted groan; a needy throb pulsing between the seam of your cunt as you realize you’ve been squirming over his lap without meaning to, the hard weight of his clothed cock pressing snug between your bare ass cheeks, the tip rubbing against your clit. 
“this isn’t the place for that. be still.” 
“but i want to.” 
nanami grunts in the back of his throat as you ignore him, plush hips swiveling down, grinding against the sensitive head of his cock beneath his khakis, his rough fingers squeezing your thigh desperately in reprimand. 
“can’t handle her already, nanami?” gojo taunts in a drawl, redirecting his kisses down your neck affectionately so that nanami can claim your lips again. they’re swollen, bitten by kisses, strawberry rouge smudged and ruined as they build a routine, taking turns sharing your kiss, stealing the breath out of your lungs to draw into their own.
you know that comparisons are against the natural rules of a threesome, but you can’t help yourself. they touch you so differently, vintage and brand new— opposites like the burning rays of the summer sun and the cool beams of the moon during winter, but their intensity is the same. 
satoru... satoru kisses like a man out of time because love has a habit of being snatched out of his hands, and life is fleeting in the world you live in and he needs to show you just how much he feels for you before it’s too late. he’s impatient and a little forceful, digging prints into your skin, leaving marks and love bites that sting in the aftermath— so you’ll never forget him, he thinks. he’s not shy, never ashamed to touch you in the middle of a crowd because your taste is just that fucking sweet to him and he won’t waste a minute of time he has with you. you can always feel his desperation, the urgency to prove his devotion embedded into each, skilled kiss. 
and then there’s kento, who kisses like he’s stopping to appreciate a masterpiece in a museum. there should not be so much reverence in his touch, not when you belong to someone else and he’s just an extra in your movie, the thrill of the hour for a sexually adventurous couple— but he is unhurried and thorough in the face of your greediness. feeding you by hand what he wants you to have. if you surge forward to take what you want, he counters and nips the tip of your nose in a bite that startles you, that makes you giggle, leaving you soft as putty in his grasp. and when he kisses you . . . when he kisses you it feels like he alone can stop the hand of the clock itself. as if he’s got all the time in the world, even though he is a man who only has the pleasure of your body for one night. 
if he can survive a train ride with you, that is. 
“stop moving.” 
“pretty please, nanami-san. i need jus’ a little... jus’-” you plea, and despite his warning, you plant your heels on the edge of the train seat. leverage to grind your pussy over the weighty print of his cock. back and forth, choking on little whines against nanami’s lips while satoru kisses at your collarbone and stares between your thighs. it’s frustrating to have nanami sitting there under you with a barrier in the way, the friction a tantalizing itch that makes you want to dissolve into sobs. you can hardly find it in yourself to care that you’re wetting the fabric of his pristine clothes with the sticky arousal dripping out of your little hole as you angle your hips down, dragging your clit over the cool zipper of his pants. 
“you want it that badly? you’ll writhe all over my cock, on a train no less, with your boyfriend sitting right next to you? you should be ashamed,” nanami tuts, reeling back to press his voice to your ear. “but there, there. i’ll give you something proper to rub on.”
“that’s not fair ‘cause you told me to sit, mmfgh-” you pout in petulant protest, nanami’s words causing your skin to blister under the heat of them, but satoru cuts you off once more by suckling your lower lip, grinning a little when you choke on a whine.
though the ex-salaryman’s tone burns a lick of shame down your arching back, one of his hands hitch up to your breasts to soothe the sting, squeezing the soft flesh through the fabric of your silky dress. and then, his other hand fondles your thigh and you inhale because he’s so fucking close— rough, calloused fingers slipping along the joint of your hip to brush over your mound. 
“here it is,” he announces, pressing his wet mouth to your cheek, reveling in the whimper you give him as he pushes a stiff thumb against your clit, pressing it down hard. keening, your hips twitch forward eagerly. his finger doesn’t offer much friction, but you rut against the palm anyway until he draws his middle finger down, spreading your folds and swirling an unhurried circle around your entrance, causing your breath to fan out of your chest in a rush.  “don’t be shy about it. rub against my finger and let satoru watch.” 
satoru isn’t interested in just watching though. 
he takes your hand and guides it to his clothed crotch first, a ruined moan punching out of his chest when you immediately wrap your fingers around the outline of his cock. it’s hard against your palm, and though the angle is awkward, you make due; rubbing your hand over him until his hips jerk up off the seat. as a reward, you feel satoru’s index finger join kento’s between your thighs, rubbing figure eights into your wet, puffy clit. you have to squirm helplessly between the two men playing with you like a pretty doll. delighted sounds leaving gojo’s lips as he mouths at your breast, flicking his tongue over your clothed nipple until the front of your dress is damp with spit. 
all three of you know that this is going too far. that the two men are devouring you in the middle of an empty train car, and you need to stop this before the security camera records any more of your sins. but how can you, when gojo pinches your clit at the same time nanami dips the very tip of his finger inside you, a low groan rumbling from his throat at the way you greedily squeeze around the thick digit, wanting to suck him in further. he clenches his jaw, staving off a groan. knowing you’ll feel so fucking heavenly around his cock when he spades you on it—
but just as the both of them are about to give you what you want, push two long fingers into your needy cunt, rub soreness into your clit until you cry, the train screeches to a slow, metallic stop at the next station. you startle, eyes flying wide open in mild panic as the doors prepare to slide open. 
“oh, well, i do believe this is our stop,” satoru says nonchalantly like he’s back to pulling the strings, like he wasn’t about to fucking cry at being interrupted when all he wants to do is make you cum again. whistling the melody to one of your favorite songs as he dips in to press one last kiss to your cheek before he stands up, stretching his arms overhead to pop stiff joints. “if you two are finished giving the security guard material to fuck himself with during his shift, let’s go.” 
the air is thick with cloying tension, oppressive enough that you can hear the ragged breathing from both sorcerers. once you exit the train, you know what’s waiting for you. your belly lurches in delicious anticipation at the mere thought of it.
gojo satoru fucks like a god and that’s when he is alone. his competitive streak will have him trying to ruin you, not satisfied until you’re fucked out and bruised and crying, with another man sharing the field. and nanami... nanami kento is an enigma, a paradox you could have never pictured agreeing to share a woman for the night with someone he is seemingly annoyed by all day, all night.
but proper, orderly men like him have a tendency of harboring the darkest desires of them all, and you have a feeling discovering what they are tonight means having trouble getting out of bed the next morning with stiff thighs and an aching cunt. 
“are you alright?” nanami murmurs, as cordial as ever. he barely seems affected at all, except for the unsteady hitch in his breathing— and, of course, the fact that his cock is dripping uncomfortably wet against the too-tight fabric of his briefs. his hand abandons you, sliding around to smooth your dress down before he sets you to your feet on the floor. 
nodding, you step forward on shaky legs, and satoru stretches out his hand for you to take. but before you follow him this time, through the automated doors and onto the platform, you look back and offer a hand to the 7:3 sorcerer with a grin that nanami knows you had to have picked up from satoru. 
“coming, nanami-san?” you repeat gojo’s words from earlier, offering yourself up to them both for the night. 
nanami huffs out a snort, glancing down at his fingers in consideration. the thick digits still glisten with your glossy cum under the fluorescents, the knot in his throat bobbing with starvation. he feels insane for crossing a boundary and getting involved with gojo satoru again (and now... now, you) but he’s lost all fucking sense, all self control at this point. any other day, he would be too dignified to even bring a woman home after a date but tonight, he raises his fingers to his mouth to suckle them clean without ever taking his eyes off of you before he dries them on a handkerchief, ever the gentleman. god, he wants to weep at the taste of your pussy on his tongue, but he stands to his full height and curls those long digits around your waiting hand instead. 
“after you.” 
Tumblr media
gojo’s penthouse in shinjuku is dark and chilly when the three of you walk inside. nanami doesn’t pay much attention to the living space as he trades loafers for guest slippers with pandas printed on the top at the door, but he feels out of place when he finally does glance around.
nanami never had any reason to think about gojo satoru’s living situation or interior decorating skills, but he’s surprised at how... human it looks.
to him, gojo is a curse. a curse that he respects, tolerates, and trusts, but a thorn in his side nonetheless. it is a childish thought, but he had expected to find the space to be as annoying as he is during the day. though it was obviously a bachelor pad meant for a man who never intended on settling down, there are signs of you all over it, turning it into a real home.
he passes by polaroids decorated with stickers and framed photos of you with his students at the beach in okinawa, presumably snapped by satoru himself. pastel pillows and plushies mismatch with the cool design of deep sea blue and sleek black furniture. he has to avert his eyes with a disbelieving scoff when you hurry past him to snatch one of your bras off the back of the couch, as if you and your freak of nature boyfriend didn’t invite him back here for one reason and one reason only. 
“are you hungry, nanami-san?” you ask suddenly to shatter the ice, glancing around the apartment nervously. you’re trying, okay? how are you supposed to know how to start a threesome with your colleague? “i, uh- i know you didn’t get to finish your meal at the restaurant and i’m not the best cook, but oh-! we do have leftover takeout in the fridge-” 
“what she means,” gojo begins, clucking his tongue at your awkward hospitality, not phased in the least bit when you shoot him a murderous glare that could level a city, “is to ask if you’re ready to finish what you started on the train. she’s wet for you- i bet she wants to know how different your fingers feel from mine when they’re fucking her.” 
he pauses with meaning, letting it hang in the air like a fat, full moon, grin widening as he drags that salacious blue gaze down right to nanami’s crotch. “how different something else of yours feels too.” 
“you are unbelievably crude.” 
“why don’t we show nanami to the bedroom?” gojo suggests, eyes on you now. you have no choice but to nod, a nervous bubble trapping your words inside of your throat. you spin around, heading down the long hallway and to the main bedroom, your red bottoms clicking against the lacquered marble floors. 
the entire penthouse stands for what being the precious scion of jujutsu society can buy you in a rich city. gojo’s bedroom is nearly the same size as the main living area itself, an open space with high ceilings, glass walls, and warm amber lighting. the furniture is sparse so as to not overwhelm his senses. there is a sitting area of chairs by the big glass windows that display a perfect view of tokyo’s glittery skyline, and a california king bed sits focal in the middle of the room, the memory foam mattress dressed with expensive bamboo sheets the color of rich chocolate.
it’s all familiar to you, a second home, but when the doors shut behind the three of you and you’re truly alone with them, the presence of two powerful sorcerers watching your every move, their lust humming around your body in a chokehold and threatening to devour you whole, makes you feel like you’re walking into this room for the first time.
as expected, gojo wastes no time when the doors are closed. he closes the space between the two of you, pressing the lean line of his stature against your back. you welcome him happily, desperate for his actual touch and not the teasing he does when he wants to make you cry. he lowers his head, pressing featherlight, open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder that earns him the tilt of your head to allow him more access, eyelids fluttering shut as he reaches the junction of your neck. 
“satoru...” you breathe out his name in the softest of sighs, and he makes a sound that he hears you— wrapping an arm under your breast as he bares down with his teeth, sucking a bruise into your skin while his fingers pinch the zipper of your dress. dragging it down until the fabric crumples to the floor and you’re the first one completely naked. 
“is this the real reason you took me to dinner with you, gojo satoru? to get me out of my dress?” 
“i don’t know what you mean, princess,” he says, and then he twists your body around to face him. cobalt blue orbs drinking down the sight of your naked body, darkening as he watches the way your nipples stiffen under the cold blast of air from the vents overhead. “i can get you out of your dress anytime i want.”
nanami almost rolls his eyes, but finds the restraint not to. he has enough confidence to make himself at home, too, while gojo undresses you. removing his blazer, he folds it neatly over the back of an armchair before moving to the silver drink cart on the other side of the bedroom where your boyfriend keeps alcohol he is too lightweight to actually consume, but you can feel his attention on you even though he makes himself scarce.
“are we being rude?” you whisper, only for satoru’s ears as he thumbs over one of your nipples, swallowing dryly. satoru follows your line of sight to nanami, and scoffs as if you’re being ridiculous.
“don’t worry about him right now. he knows what to do and he’ll come over when he’s ready. look at me.” gojo hooks a finger under your chin, tilting your gaze up and forcing you to look up into the twin pools of his blue eyes. at the sight of your plush body, his chest becomes so tight with want that it takes every last ounce of his self restraint to not flip you over, press you into the mattress, and split you on his cock. “that’s it. keep those pretty eyes on me.” 
“attention hog,” you roll your eyes. 
“gonna be a brat in front of our guest?” he hums, backing up until he sits on the edge of the bed. legs spread so that you can settle in between them. even though you’re no stranger to being naked in front of satoru, you feel exposed with the other man in the room. it doesn’t help that nanami is so quiet and observant— the sharp cut of his stare prickling against your skin from where he stands at the window, sipping dry scotch from the glass he poured himself. just knowing that he is waiting to make his move has your cunt pulsing with need, sweat beading along your hairline. 
hands resting on gojo’s shoulders, you lift a leg and climb into his lap. his hands drop down to gather the seat of your ass into his palms— shamelessly kneading the fat roughly between his fingers before delivering an open-handed smack that’s so fucking hard it gnashes your teeth together, your cunt clenching desperately around emptiness.
“o-oh-! what was that for-”
“for neglecting me all night,” he whines, and brings his hand down once more— quick, dirty slaps to your ass that bounces off the hollow walls of his bedroom until tears spring to your eyes, a bittersweet mixture of pain and pleasure that you love. “for holding out on me. not letting me fuck you on top of that table where everyone could’ve watched. for being a smartass.”
“dirty old exhibitionist.” 
“damn right,” he grins, like a madman. edging back on the bed and dragging you with him until you’re straddling his hips now. his cock pressing deliciously up against your pussy through his slacks and somehow, you’re no further in getting what you want than you were back on that fucking train. it frustrates you, knowing that he would rather tease you out than let you sit on it. but you know that satoru is good for it, and the only thing you can do right now is grind your hips down in a slow circle, rubbing a sticky spot into his designer slacks. 
“there’s just no satiating you, is there?” he sighs, one hand leaving your ass. thumb dipping between your folds to brush over your clit, the little nub oversensitive, puffy with need, and you squirm at his fleeting touches. “sit on my tongue then, huh? been dying to taste this pretty pussy all night long, angel.” 
“but i want-” your lips part to whine, but gojo sweeps in to kiss you quickly, sucking your bottom lip against his warm tongue that shushes your protests so quickly, it’s embarrassing. 
“you want my cock in you, i know,” he drawls, as if he feels sympathetic for you— as if he’s your liberator and not your executioner. this is nothing for him. oh, he’s plenty aroused. been aching to be buried in your cunt since the beginning of the night, but he could tease you for hours with his relentless touches and mocking words because it’s that much better. he’s a giver, and your pussy is so much sweeter to him when he’s got you swollen with need, cheeks streaked in tears. “or maybe . . . maybe you’re begging for nanami’s now?” 
you feel your heart flip, and you’ll never really get used to the feeling of knowing that you’re here, agreeing to get fucked out by your boyfriend and your colleague and they’re both denying you. head spinning into a dizzy twirl with arousal as you squirm over satoru’s clothed cock, desperate for friction. you try to bat your eyelashes, make it pretty, make him relent into skipping steps. “want you both, ‘toru. need you both. i’ve been so good for you, right? i deserve it.” 
“you deserve it, baby. and you’ll have us. after you sit on my tongue.” he says, adamant in this. 
“ugh!” 
gojo is so nonchalant about it, waiting expectantly for you. despite how confident you are in your sex life with him, it’s one of those positions that you’ve always been a little too shy to do often, but it’s hard to even think about refusing the skill of his mouth when he looks like that.
he’s reclining on the bed now, propped up on one elbow with those pretty summer eyes smoldering under wintery lashes and the peaks of his snowy hair falling over his forehead. pressed shirt all wrinkled now with the buttons popped open so that you can see glimpses of his strong chest and the ridges of his toned abs— just beckoning for a pretty girl like you to crawl up his broad chest and smother his face with your plump thighs and intoxicating scent. 
“what if i smother you?” you try one last time but the words sound ridiculous to even you.
“dare you to try,” he taunts, bravado on full volume but he squeezes the flesh of your thigh in reassurance as he reads between the lines of your words; catches the real meaning. “you shouldn’t worry about that, angel. i can take it. know why?” 
“not this again-” 
“know why?” he insists, like a bratty child.
you roll your eyes, but an endearing smile cuts through the thread of anxiety worming its way into your confidence. gojo’s talkative nature isn’t always annoying— sometimes, he knows exactly the right thing to say. “because you’re the strongest?” 
“that’s my girl. now get up here already. nanami is getting impatient.” 
nodding, you listen to him. inching up his body until your thighs cage in the handsome angles of his face, those striking azures glittering like gems between your legs as he smirks up at you like he’s got the best seat in the fucking house when in reality, it’s you. 
you screw your eyes shut as gojo leans forward, bracing yourself for that first warm lick of his tongue over your sensitive nerves— 
but instead of putting his mouth on you, the sorcerer presses his nose right up against your mound and takes a long, lewd whiff of your pussy— the sweet and sour musk of your slick clinging to the curls at your mound, filling his nostrils with a heady scent that makes a hoarse whine stumble out of his chest. 
“you’re so gross, satoru! behave-” you squeal, reaching down to tug painfully at the messy white strands of hair on his head, but the twinge of pain that shoots through his skull only causes him to grunt even more in pleasure. 
“and you smell like heaven, angel.” his nose nudges against your clit as he licks a long, rough stripe up the length of your slit. he’s not surprised that you taste as sweet as you smell either— you always do. sticky honey smearing all over the inner parts of your thighs and he makes sure it coats his tastebuds just as good too, appeasing your pretty cunt with starter flits that makes you grow hot. 
one of his hands trail up your tummy, landing right on one of your tits. he twists your nipple between the rough pad of his thumb, a whimper choking off at the base of your throat at the pinch.
pleasure blooms slow between your hips. it’s so gentle, so deceiving that you almost forget who you’re fucking. gojo satoru is never really gentle . . . sometimes he forgets you’re not as strong as him, that you can fall apart at the seams if he fucks you the right way. he’s just warming up, and you fall for it every time. relaxing into his grasp, a rabbit ensnared. letting him lick you into submission, and by the time you begin to squirm, intending to run from his oncoming onslaught, your boyfriend is locking you into place with his strong arms roping around your thighs. 
giving you no choice in it but to curl your fingers around the headboard in front of you and endure another round of the cruel pleasure awaiting you. 
“f-fuck, i could drink you dry,” he whispers under his breath, the low rumble of his baritone muffled by the press of your puffy pussy smooshed against his full lips, the vibrations tightening your hips with stinging jolts of arousal. 
you’re still so sensitive, gummy and docile in his grasp. body too tense and unable to move as gojo’s sadistic streak kicks in and takes advantage of your weakened state. he stiffens the tip of his tongue to a hard point, wriggling it right under the hood of your clit where he laps over the oversensitive, used nerves before suctioning the nub into his mouth so tight that you can feel the pull in the veins underneath. it burns. it’s everything. heat seething molten in the pit of your tummy, behind the skin of your clit, up the base of your spine. 
“gentle... s-satoru, gentle. i’m so sensitive-” 
“take it for me, baby. just for a little while.” 
gojo satoru eats pussy like it’s his breakfast of champions, like he’ll lose his mind and wage wars on the streets of tokyo if he doesn’t begin every morning and end every night with his snowy head buried between your thighs. he’s so messy with it too, spitting and smacking to wet up your pussy. saliva dripping from the corners of his mouth, down his chin, into the collar of his shirt— unbothered that the lower half of his face is glossed up in your honeyed juices as his hands force your hips into a slow grind over his lips and tongue. 
and then, as if you’re not already burning from the inside out, your breaths choke off in your throat when he suddenly drags his tongue down, lapping over the entrance to your drooling cunt before he pushes it up into you. 
“o-oh- oh my god.” 
even though it’s nothing more than bothersome pressure, it feels so fucking good that it makes you want to collapse. thighs trembling and burning with the effort to hold up your weight. gojo makes languid, hungry pushes of the soft muscle against your walls that has you whimpering and gasping out. hips jerking as you forget yourself, bouncing down on his tongue like you’re fucking on his cock. and it’s exactly what he wanted, too— his moan is ragged, full of approval. cock throbbing against the tent in his slacks at the little sounds you make. 
you’re so caught up in the feeling of gojo fucking you with his tongue, eyes squeezed shut and knuckles aching around the grip you have on the headboard, that you had forgotten all about the other man in the room until he’s standing right next to the bed. his glass of scotch held in one hand while the other reaches for you, two fingers tucking under your chin to force you to look at him. 
nanami’s gaze roams all over your body. from the swell of your breasts to the tremble in your thighs as your tight cunt twitches around gojo’s tongue. your skin prickles over with goosebumps, swallowing nervously under his open scrutiny. his history with satoru and his apparent crush on you aside, you wonder what he thinks of you now? if such a proper, virtuous gentleman can keep up with insatiable freaks writhing on the bed in front of him. 
will he still dream about holding your hand on tuscan beaches after watching you grind on satoru’s face while begging nanami to touch you with big, pretty eyes, whimpering his name for mercy? 
“nuh-nanami-san, please-” 
“kento,” he murmurs, correcting you. and he doesn’t need the liquid courage— nanami kento is a man full of surety, but he drains the last dregs of his scotch anyway. “address me as kento tonight.” 
“kento,” you breathe and nod, like a good girl. “want you now. want somethin’ in my mouth.” 
visibly shivering at the sound of his given name leaving your lips, at your pleas, the ex-salaryman sets the empty glass down on the nightstand and then he’s reaching for you again. he traces your face, and then the underside of your breasts. his gaze briefly dips between your legs, too. and something in you stirs at the heated look that passes between the two men you’re in between. intense coffee brown meeting mischievous ocean blue before gojo smirks and looks away first to put his attention back on you as his tongue spears up against your sensitive spot, flicking and wriggling against it to spread warmth all along your hipbones and make you cry out desperately. 
reaching forward with greedy hands, you grip onto the front of kento’s dress shirt, needing a distraction from the tight coil winding slow in your gut. you tug him down to an angle where you can meet his pretty lips in a messy kiss. 
though you may have been the one to initiate it, nanami overpowers you easily. he makes the blood rush from your head, leaving you dizzy as he indulges you with his tongue. pausing to kiss over your jaw, sighing soft in the back of his throat like he’s coming home after waiting years to be able to fucking do this. it’s an overwhelming feeling, having one man lick into your mouth while the other challenges your sanity with his tongue against your pussy, his only goal to have you gush all over his face.
“finally,” kento breathes hotly, cupping your cheeks gently in his big hands as he kisses along the corner of your mouth, nipping at your upper lip like he can barely hold himself back to speak, his big hands palming your breasts. “i can become acquainted with this sweet mouth of yours without that one interrupting.” 
but oh, he shouldn’t have said that. 
gojo grunts in offense, but he doesn’t dare stop when you’re so close. if anything, it makes him worse. his hand replaces his mouth, and you barely have time to protest before he pushes three long fingers into your sopping pussy, curling them and fucking them back and forth with a quick pace that makes you ache, the tip of his tongue back to wriggling under the hood of your clit to spear right against those burning nerves again, causing you to thrash and bite down on nanami’s bottom lip, orgasm cresting too fucking fast, washing down over you like a strong tide ready to wipe out your mind—
“give me one right now, and i’ll let nanami fuck your mouth. come on, angel face, give it here-” 
“s-satoru, don’t-!” it would be a scream, but nanami drinks it down in a kiss. breath stolen right from your lungs as gojo forces the orgasm out of you, clenching and squelching so violently your cunt pushes his fingers out and you splash wetness all over the lower half of his face even though your clamp your knees together and try to hold it. tremors lock up the muscles of your thighs, and the pleasure chokes you out. high swirling in your head. you feel swollen, fucked out in the aftermath. knowing that satoru did it to prove a point, and not for your pleasure because you’re barely satisfied from it. your fingers are tangled in kento’s shirt, nearly tearing the fabric as satoru smirks victoriously between your thighs with his face soaking wet.
you push his head away from you weakly, but you know that he won’t let you off with just one. 
you don’t want him to. 
“y-you didn’t have to force it,” you whine, still shaking. “i fucking hate you.” 
“that wasn’t very kind, sweetheart,” kento is the one who speaks next, clucking his tongue. and you’re not sure if he’s talking about you insulting gojo, tearing his shirt, or nearly biting his lip in half or all three. but his lips look so fucking good all bitten and swollen, a dollop of blood pooling where you broke the skin that you ignore his scolding. at least until nanami takes your hand, pressing it firmly against the crotch of his slacks— letting you get a feel of just how painfully stiff his cock feels underneath the fabric.
“i expect that apology i was promised now.” 
god, you don’t need to be told twice. 
watching nanami through fluttering eyelashes, you work through unbuttoning his shirt and pants. the buckle of his designer belt clinks as you wriggle them down his hips just enough to free his cock. you can’t help the whine that leaves you, breath leaving your chest in a whistle at the way it slaps against his abdomen. it’s pretty. he hisses at that first contact of your hand wrapping around the base, moving it out of the way as you lean forward to press a kittenish kiss to his sharp, defined hipbone. 
“your cock is almost as handsome as the rest of you,” you breathe, voice the weight of a siren’s call. “can i taste it?” 
oh, you could pull him underneath the sea with the way you’re looking at him. he barely gives you a nod, and you smile. only a man as pristine as nanami would look this dignified with his pants tucked under his ass cheeks and his expensive shirt hanging off his shoulders, barely held out of the way as you stroke him slow from root to tip, wetting your palm with his sticky precum, opaque over your fingers for an easier slide. 
it’s not surprising that he is beautiful everywhere. a dusting of sandy hair on his defined chest and a sculpted adonis belt that tapers off into a pale and veiny cock. it’s not too long, slightly curved up towards his naval. perfectly heavy and thick— weighing your wrist down with body and strain. it feels scandalous and forbidden, like you shouldn’t be here stroking another man’s cock while your boyfriend watches, but then you remember that he is enjoying this most of all. 
“put your mouth on him, angel,” gojo instructs suddenly, pressing sticky kisses along your inner thigh to remind you of his presence. he barely sounds winded, nipping bruises into your pillowy skin as his salacious gaze locks onto the visual of your hand working over nanami’s leaking cock. “i’m almost done down here.” 
with that, he suckles your puffy clit back into his mouth. his throat flexing as he drinks down the pretty juices leftover. your hips jerk in surprise, but you try your best not to fall. to focus on your part in all of this. you grip onto nanami’s hip for purchase as your swollen lips part for the dripping, thick tip of his cock. sheathing your teeth like gojo taught you and sucking nanami between them slow, letting the 7:3 sorcerer feel the warm slide of your cheeks, fulfilling his darkest little desire of getting to fuck your mouth. 
and nanami hates to admit it, but gojo satoru being there to witness it, all six eyes on him, is like an added summer bonus. 
nanami is such a patient man. he would never think about forcing your pace, but he does place his hand on the top of your head, gently rubbing his thumb over your soft hair. it makes you want to please him further, sinking the tight ring of your mouth down on him until he grunts. the rough texture of your tongue scraping against the sensitive underside of his cock. you’re always such a good girl when it comes to sucking dick that satoru feels that familiar lick of envy burn fury-green in his sternum at the thought of his own erection sitting neglected in his slacks, but he wouldn’t miss the sight of his darling angel struggling to fit nanami’s girth fully into your little mouth even if the world was burning. 
“don’t suck him in like that or he’ll cum too fast and ruin it for all of us.” 
you’re about to reel back, smart off and tell gojo that you know how to properly suck a man off, that you’ve brought his ass to snot and tears with your mouth before, but something in your belly warms with lust instead and your words die under the weight of nanami’s cock pressing your tongue down as you remember what gojo said on the train. that maybe he’s instructing you because he already knows what makes nanami’s knees weak. that those pretty pink lips of your boyfriend’s have been right where yours are now. stretched obscenely around nanami’s thick cock, tongue flicking over the slit of his leaking head, swallowing like a good boy when the 7:3 sorcerer paints his throat white—
oh. 
“that’s it,” kento murmurs under his breath, low and gravelly. ruined. he bends at the waist, cupping your cheeks in his big hands, thumb brushing over the bulged outline of his girth pushing against your cheeks as you suckle around him. “i dreamt of this. laid awake at night thinking of how you would look when i touch you, how you would look with your pretty mouth wrapped around my cock.” he thinks he was a fool for saying that he does not praise or disparage, because he can’t help himself now. how can he not praise you, sweet, perfect you, when you’re suckling on him like that? staring up at him through coquettish eyelashes with a mouth so fucking molten, it makes his stomach churn.
he’s almost nauseous in his pleasure. huffing out low groans as you bob once, twice, swallow around the tip of his cock and repeat. trapping nanami in an endless cycle that makes his knees buckle out. falling too fast for the hot brand around him that burns straight through his skin. eventually, he has to draw back. huff out a groan as he lets himself slip out with a wet pop. “stick your tongue out for me, love. say ah.” 
curling your tongue down to your chin, smiling impishly when the sight makes him groan. he moves forward after a moment of reprieve, slapping the heavy tip of his cock against your flattened tongue— smearing sticky precum all over the surface. you barely have time to swallow it down, slide his sweet taste down your throat before he cups your cheeks in warning and his hips surge forward. widening your eyes in surprise as he widens your jaw at the same time. 
nanami kento isn’t at all what you expected. you figured he would be gentle and slow with you, almost boring in his romanticism. but your hands fly to his hipbones as your throat flexes and you choke around the thick stretch your colleague lodges down your esophagus. 
“that’s it. let me in.” he whispers, and he makes the words sound like heaven when he’s committing sin. you’re only granted a moment to breathe when he springs back, grunting deep in his chest as you part so obediently for him. spit bubbling down your chin, pooling to drip between your breasts and onto satoru’s cheek where he distractedly plays with your clit underneath. your jaw aches, but you let him bruise your throat without complaint. 
“fuck, fuck. you’re so good for him, baby. can’t wait to feel that pretty throat struggling ‘round my cock too.” 
“you’re neglecting her, satoru.” nanami chastises above the volume of your wet gurgles and gargles, jaw locked tight in pure pleasure. he places his hand on your shoulder, bearing down to add weight and force you back onto gojo’s waiting tongue. your boyfriend smirks against your skin, encircling his lips around one of your puffy folds, nibbling it with his teeth before he laves you with long, wet stripes of his tongue. it becomes a push and pull of how long they can tease you. every heated lick at your frayed, overstimulated nerves and every thrust of nanami’s cock against the gummy patch of your throat threatens to make you faint. 
“pw-pleashe-” you blubber around the stretch of nanami fucking into your mouth, fluttering your teary lashes up at him— hiccupping desperate gulps of air into your lungs when nanami eases his hips back immediately, pulling off your tongue so that he can listen to your sweet pleas. 
“i think she has something to say,” satoru muses as nanami wipes his thumb over your lips to wipe away the dribbles of spit drooling down your chin and connecting you to the flushed, aching head of his cock. 
“what is it, love? go on.” 
“i can’t take it anymore. please please please-” 
“been thinking ‘bout it since we left that restaurant, huh?” gojo swipes an indulgent, selfish lick of his tongue over your clit one last time before he’s lifting you off of him and moving out from under your body, letting you settle amongst the pillows instead as he kneels on the bed. “you’ve been nothing but an angel for us tonight so how can i deny you?” 
you should be embarrassed the way your heart leaps in anticipation, heat swarming in your belly and you shamelessly open your legs for him, but satoru doesn’t move an inch to touch you.
you’re convinced he enjoys watching you suffer when he moves to stand behind nanami instead, resting his chin on the younger man’s shoulder so that he can look down the long expanse of his torso while he boldly curls his fingers around nanami’s cock with a firm grip, just to make his entire body pitch forward with a startled grunt—
“gojo-” 
“look how hard you’ve got him, princess,” he muses gleefully, bright eyes shining as he swipes the wide pad of his thumb over the head of nanami’s cock. and you can’t help but look, watching the way clear precum bubbles out of the slit and smears between the joints of satoru’s fingers as he strokes him slowly. nanami’s cheeks flush, his lips parting on a groan before he seems to remember himself and clenches his teeth.
you’re reaching down before you know it, slipping a hand between your own thighs and petting two fingers over your folds but satoru’s gaze whips over to you so fast your heart drops to your gut, his eyes darkening as he catches you with a red hand. “don’t you dare, you little slut. wait your turn.” 
he waits until you nod meekly, move your hand and curl your fists to your chest and then he’s back to his task.
satoru’s hand is different, it’s always been like that. while your touch had been soft, warm, unfamiliar— satoru’s is intense and vivid, like a bad memory. his palm is calloused friction as he drags his hand up the thick length of nanami’s cock, spreading your leftover spit into his skin. no kind of rhythm in his movement, just enough to make the blond man’s hips buck forward before he’s ripping his hand away and chuckling to himself.
“you just couldn’t wait to get your hands on my cock,” nanami bites out through gritted teeth. 
“you’re right,” gojo purrs, a teasing grin on his lips, and then his attention slides to you. “i think nanami wants to fuck you first, sugar.”
at this point, you could care less who gets there first— as long as you’re given what you want the most. glancing at gojo with watery eyes, you look over at him for approval. wondering if he’ll edge you to the brim and snatch it away from you again, but he nods, giving you a soft look that melts your insides to goo. “i’ll admit, i’m reluctant. i’ve been dying to get into this pretty little cunt all night long, but i’m gonna be nice and put you both out of your miseries.” 
“i’ve got something else you can do for me, anyway,” he continues. his nimble fingers move to pop the button on his own slacks then, sliding them down with little effort. he isn’t wearing any underwear, and you swallow greedily around a dried-out tongue as you get your first glimpse of the night of his pretty cock. it bobs out— flushed bubblegum pink and pearling at the tip between strong thighs frosted over by white peach fuzz. unfortunately, you don’t get a chance to reach out and wrap your fingers around it because nanami is crowding your space, letting you breathe in the spicy scent of his expensive aftershave. 
“you’re so eager to do whatever he asks. will you do the same for me tonight?” he wonders, looking down at you with flushed cheeks and mussed hair. 
demure in the way you press your knees further apart until they brush the sheets, making room for his hips to slot in between them. scooting into his lap until your ass cheeks nudge against the wet tip of his cock— legs draped over his muscled thighs so that he can see everything. nanami’s eyes droop down, raking desperately over that pretty little cunt of yours. he swallows, the knot in his throat bobbing under the thin skin before he reaches down to spread your slit apart, all slicked and gooey in strings of wet and the remnants of satoru’s spit. 
“such a pretty pussy,” nanami breathes out the compliment like a prayer, like he’ll die if he doesn’t bury himself in your cunt within the next few minutes. “but i didn’t think you were so tight here.” he marvels, the tip of his cock just barely slipping past your entrance and catching. “how you manage to take that idiot is beyond me.” 
“that almost sounds like a compliment,” gojo quips, but his sky blue attention is distracted between your legs. 
it’s funny how a simple night out to a birthday dinner for principle gakuganji turned out like this— with your stoic, antisocial colleague wrapping his veined hands around your squishy thighs and laying the length of his cock, fat and leaking, on the top of your puffy mound to compare the difference.
the man in front of you is nothing like your quiet colleague. where you expected soft serve missionary and whispered praises from him, you got a fucking size kink and him sucking his cheeks against his teeth before letting a warm glob of spit trail from his mouth to drizzle onto his cock. it’s lewd, how he lets it cool there, watching it spread down the side until it drips onto your pussy as you squirm under the perverted scrutiny from both men. he grips the base of his cock and taps the tip against your clit to make you squirm, smearing his spit as he moves. 
“kento,” you breathe, the tight ring of your cunt twitching because he’s so fucking close to where you want him.  “fuck me already.” 
“be patient, love,” he coos, and you feel the calloused pad of his thumb shift from holding your folds open to dipping his thumb into your cunt briefly, making you jump. “how long does satoru usually make you wait and beg for what you want?” 
“too long. oh, he’s so cruel to me, kento,” you simper, batting those wet eyelashes to get your way, your hands grasping at nanami’s tapered hips. 
“i’m not like that,” he reassures. “if you want something, i’ll provide it for you.” 
and then, nanami’s hips angle down before sinking forward, the push of his cock spreading the walls of your cunt apart agonizingly slow.
“nghhhh-”  
it feels like heaven, and both of you let out a groan. it’s everything nanami dreamed of. pleasure scrapes up his spine, numbing everything else around him and burning his nerves raw until all he can feel is your pussy, splitting open nice and sweet for him.
“so good for me, just a little more,” nanami clenches his jaw, fingers digging into your hips as his lidded eyes stare down at your pretty face— eyes wide and swollen lips suspended in a silent moan. 
immediately though, nanami knows that you’ll be a fucking problem. for all your begging for him, you don’t take it well. he’s barely in as it is, only just past the fat, flushed crown and you’re already choking on gasps and gurgles. slipping out of his grasp and scrambling further up the bed, running to gojo— running away from that first, twinging stretch of the blunt weight of nanami’s wide cockhead. 
“oh, no you don’t- where are you runnin’ off to, sugar?” satoru is the one who reaches down, hooking his hand behind your knee and keeping your leg pinned open for nanami, halfheartedly twisting a fist over the head of his own cock as he watches the other sorcerer force himself through the tight walls of your pussy.
“god, fuck-!” you whine, pressing your forehead against gojo’s knee. 
“what’s wrong? is this not what you begged me for? begged us both for?” 
“y-yeah, but i- c-can’t take it. ‘s too big, ken. w-won’t fit.”
“now you’re just flattering me to get what you want, love,” he murmurs, voice soothing over your frayed nerves like melted chocolate; his soft, nasally voice vibrates against your skin as he dips his head down, pressing his lips to the valley between your sweaty breasts before angling his head to wrap his lips around one of your peaked nipples. “don’t you worry now, i’ll make sure it fits. i’ll make sure you take every inch of my cock.”
you hate that his words sound oddly reassuring, like he’s soothing a frightened animal— like he’s not wider, heavier than satoru when he reels back before fucking himself into you again, to the hilt this time. snorting under his breath when your knees close up, clacking violently against his hips. your first instinct is to push him out, thighs shaking with the effort to take him but he’s sinking with so much weight that it knocks the breath out of your lungs, giving you no choice but to let him split you open.
gojo doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he is enjoying your struggle. he’s scratching the itch of a longtime kink of his, mumbling to himself like a madman about how you look so fucking hot like this, how you take nanami like the good girl you are. this is exactly what he wanted, and he always gets what he wants; but it’s what you wanted too. you wanted satoru to watch the way you thrash against the sheets, the way your pretty lips part to moan your coworker’s name— how fucking beautiful you look arching your back off the bed, hair splayed out on the pillows with another man’s cock fucking inside you.
“how does he feel, angel?” 
“so big, s-so fucking wide-!” you squeal, your words hiccupping off into a throaty moan, “i can’t-” 
“why don’t you be a big girl for nanami? show him how good you are at taking cock, baby,” satoru purrs, stroking his hand across your soft cheek. you nod a little, bite down on your lip, curling your fists into the sheets as nanami fucks steady, raw soreness against the walls of your cunt. the soft swell of your breasts bouncing with each calculated, hard thrust. you muffle the sounds you make against satoru’s knee, but nanami seems to enjoy your gasping cries. practically cooing in response each time he drags one out of you. 
“show him that you can take two at once.” 
before you can comprehend what he means, kento is the one who pauses his strokes, encapsulating your hips in his big hands before he tips you onto your side to give satoru easier access. it’s strange, seeing two men who don’t get along work together to fuck you to tears but it also warms your cunt, a feverish flush traversing through your veins because they’re taking care of you so well. nanami hooks your ankle over his shoulder, bending you until the joints in your hips ache and then he fucks back in, his blunt fingernails digging bloody moons into the doughy skin of your thighs at the feeling of your cunt swallowing him up once more. 
when gojo shifts his hips forward, you know what he wants and you loll out your tongue like a good girl, waiting until your boyfriend wraps his fingers around the back of your head, spindly digits tangling in your hair painfully as he guides your head forward, running your tongue across the leaking slit of his cock, let you gather up his precum on your tastebuds. groaning. sucking in his gut as you let him use your mouth for his pleasure, letting him control you like a little rag doll. and when he tugs on your hair, your swollen lips close around the tip of his cock, suckling on it obediently. whining when you suck just right and the salty taste of his watery precum coats your tongue. 
“look at you, you’re filthy,” nanami mutters, and though the degradation should smart, it makes your hips buck up against his in response because nanami says it with so much fucking veneration, it sounds like he’s praying to god. “i should have known because of who you’re dating, but look. at. you- you’re worse than he is. thrashing all over my cock while you suck another.” 
“k-kento-” 
you don’t need a mirror to know how you look under them. vixenish. a thing out of fantasy, a greedy little cockslut happily splitting open those honey thighs for one man while your pretty mouth is wide open for another; wedged between both of them to be used for their pleasure.
and you couldn’t be happier— you dip low, tonguing at the seam of satoru’s balls, spit congregating at the corner of your lips before he shakes his head, cheeks candy cane red and blue eyes lidded. fingers tightening in your hair with a brutal twist of his wrist, hips fucking forward to sink himself further into your mouth. 
“f-fuck, sweet girl. just like that.” 
nanami’s watching the entire thing, his gaze fixated on the two of you as you suck gojo greedily between your lips. his heart thumps wild, and he can’t help but fuck a little harder at the sight, a little faster, a little meaner, because he knows what you’re tasting right now from experience. salt and sugar at the tip, precum gathering against your tongue that never ends because satoru is messy. his throat dries up, sandy hair falling over his forehead as he tucks his chin against his chest and forces his eyes shut. 
“how does she feel, nanami?” satoru goads, voice breathless, lidded eyes flickering to the man fucking between your legs. “better than me?” 
“better than you ever have. look how easy she’s opening up for me,” nanami shoots at the white-haired man, his fingers holding one side of your pussy open so both men can watch nanami’s cock slide in and out, your cunt expanding to take him with each sink before squeezing down when he presses deep. he’s made a mess of you already— the thick root of his cock coated in a ring of white cream, flecks of it splattered over his lower abdomen.
it’s too much— fuck, he can barely keep his composure. he’s losing control and it’s too much and that’s why nanami does it. he’s overwhelmed. you run too hot, and his gut feels like it’s on fire. each sink of his heavy cock against the warm, squishy walls of your cunt, combined with satoru’s low groans and the sound of you choking around his cock up front threatens to send him over the edge too early. that’s why nanami’s honey eyes darken, why he reaches for satoru— gripping him hard by the nape of his neck and tugging him forward. 
gojo grunts in surprise as nanami yanks him in, but it isn’t as if he doesn’t want to go; as if he doesn’t want to chase the thread nanami is weaving right now. they barely share a heated look before gojo dips his head, locking them into a kiss. 
the first thing that crosses your mind is that it’s so fucking hot, and the second is that the way they kiss each other is not the gentle way they coaxed you into letting them explore your mouth. they aren’t delicate with each other, and you should not have expected them to be.
gojo usually has so much control over nanami— being a stronger sorcerer than him, dominating the conversations they have by annoying him to no end— but when they kiss, it’s different. nanami grips the back of gojo’s neck in a vice, keeping him in place while his long fingers tangle in the short strands of nanami’s hair. it’s all heated licks into satoru’s mouth, lewd sucks against nanami’s tongue. like they’ve waited so fucking long to do this again. one drunk on your pussy and the other drugged out on your throat as they kiss each other vigorously. 
their lips are wet with spit, and at one point gojo bites down on nanami’s tongue hard enough to nick it, groaning at the metallic tang that rides over his taste. you don’t miss how nanami’s hips drive into you harder after that, forcing his grunts down gojo’s throat as punishment. 
if you had any doubts that they had done this before, you don’t have them now. it’s obvious in their chemistry, and though the thoughts swirl in your mind, you don’t feel jealousy as they tongue into each other’s mouths. no matter what, you are the center of satoru’s world and nothing will change that. instead, it’s hotter like this, seeing the two of them kiss each other. knowing the three of you are sharing each other. 
“who told you that you could stop?” kento’s gaze flickers to you, head tilted down and directing the question at you. his chest rises and falls in a desperate heave as satoru mouths a path across the sharp cut of the ex-salaryman’s jawline to the long, toned expanse of his neck. leaving aubergine nips and bites along the smooth olive skin there that nanami hisses at. 
you had been so caught up in watching them that you don’t even remember stopping. you’re almost too fucked out to function yourself— to keep up with the only task you had besides laying there and taking cock, but your cheeks warm as nanami scolds you for slacking off. at some point, you had pulled off of satoru’s cock, rubbing your spit against his skin with a halfhearted, lazy handjob. neglecting your poor boyfriend to watch them kiss. nanami’s hand drops, gripping the back of your head and forcing you to swallow satoru’s cock once more. you suck him in quick, gurgling spit and precum and air in a dirty choke as the warmth catches him off guard and his hips snap forward too fast, the tip of his cock brushing against the fleshy patch at the back of your throat and gagging you out. 
“good girl, f-fuck. you’re so good for me, so good, so fuckin’ good,” oh, he sounds like he’s almost sobbing. 
as you pull him further in, a hot brand suctioning around the girth of his cock at the same time nanami boldly scrapes a fingernail over one of his nipples. it’s enough stimulation, enough overwhelming pleasure that he feels a lurch in his gut, a kick in his balls and then he’s withdrawing almost as fast as he buried himself in, pulling his cock off your tongue at an almost reluctant pace, a string of spit connecting you to his flushed tip.  
“need a minute. can’t cum yet,” he expels a deep breath of relief, grinning at you lopsidedly and bending at the waist to kiss your puffy lips— groaning when he tastes his musk on your tongue. but it’s obvious that gojo satoru isn’t tapping out of his own game.
instead, he stretches out on his belly and suckles one of your nipples into his mouth, pulling the little nub so hard onto his tongue that you feel your eyes wet up at the sensation, walls clenching around nanami with a gasp. he quickly grows bored, though. hand trailing down your tummy until you jump in oversensitivity as his fingers shift through your spread slit, the pad of his thumb rubbing against your puffy, sore clit as nanami sinks in and out of your pussy.
you whine, wanting to cum so desperately that your lashes are wet with frustrated tears, grinding against each of nanami’s thrusts, euphoric dopamine filling your brain each time his fat cock fucks right against that sweet spot inside of you. 
“gojo-san, behave,” nanami warns suddenly, already knowing what the snowy-haired sorcerer is up to. gojo just grins, and then his fingers are dipping a little further, a dangerous glint in his eye that makes your heart sink. 
“aw, come on, spoilsport. i just wanna see how your cock feels inside my girl,” he says innocently, but his smirk betrays his intentions completely. you hiss through your teeth as satoru fishhooks a finger into your pussy, thrusting it right alongside nanami’s cock and tugging, stretching you out even further.
“o-oh-” you keen, and then your boyfriend is leaning down and licking a broad stripe over the length of your slit, hardening the point of his tongue to flick it rapidly against your clit, the heady scent of sex filling his nostrils, making him lightheaded.
you squeak out in surprise, fingers flying to grip his hair, acrylics digging into his scalp because you’re so delirious with pleasure now, fucked out and so so full— walls twitch and clench with each weighted thrust of nanami’s cock, the forked ridges of the veins along the shaft dragging against your nerves, slick squelching out of your stretched hole to drip down the middle of your ass cheeks. 
“look at me while i’m fucking you, darling,” nanami beckons for your attention and you give it to him, looking up at him with misty, lidded eyes. “there we go, there’s my pretty girl,” he croons and he knows that he shouldn’t stake a claim on you like this— you’ll be back in satoru’s arms soon enough, you’ll never belong to him, after all, but he can’t help himself; his hand petting your cheek affectionately as he fucks into you. “you’re going to make me cum soon, love. gonna make me fill up this perfect little cunt. do you want that?”
“yes-! want your cum, kento. want it so bad.”  
“that’s right, darling. let me hear it. let me hear you scream my fucking name in front of your boyfriend.” 
“want you to cum inside me, k-kento. wanna cum with you. f-fuck me, it feels so good-!” you plea, and the beginnings of an orgasm stirs in your tummy— warmth spreading all over the nerves of your clit and building until you can feel it right on the edge, so close that tears bubble up in your pretty eyes because you want it so fucking bad. all it would take is for nanami to fuck into you at the right angle, for gojo to crook the fingers he still has inside of you and press up against that sweet spot and make you fall apart underneath them. 
but you should have expected that gojo satoru would have other plans. his tongue innocently flicking out against your clit until he moves down, mouth widening a little further so that when nanami reels his hips all the way back and plunges forward, it’s not your cunt that nanami sinks into, it’s satoru’s mouth. pretty pouty lips closing around the head of nanami’s cock at the last minute, hollowing his cheeks out, sucking him all the way to the back of his throat like a fucking professional—
“what the- fuck,” a guttural grunt of surprise is punched out of nanami that sounds so deep, so ruined that it rattles your teeth, his entire body trembling at the hot suction swallowing around his cock and he’s lost to it, no chance of fighting it or scolding satoru for the dirty trick— he simply grips the back of his head roughly, burying himself down the sorcerer’s throat as he spurts white ropes of cum onto gojo’s tongue, forcing him to drink every fucking drop. 
nanami heaves in the aftermath, barely able to catch his breath. “can you ever get through the day without being a freak?” 
“keep degrading me,” gojo sighs before he grips your cheeks, squishing them between the pads of his fingers until your tongue pushes out from the pressure and he can lean over your body, lolling out his own tongue and drizzling a thick strand of his spit and nanami’s leftover seed from his mouth into your own, bringing a moan to your lips as your hips thrash. you make a show of playing with it— spreading white it over the surface of your tongue before you swallow eagerly, whining needily as his cum slides down your throat. “it makes my dick even harder.”
“i didn’t get to cum,” you pout.
“sorry, princess,” he doesn’t sound apologetic at all when he looks down his nose at you, shrugging one broad shoulder. “can’t let you have all the fun. don’t worry, though. i’m going to take care of you.” 
you would be lying if you said your stomach didn’t lurch at the promise. 
you’re vaguely aware that the two of them are switching places, eyes too blurry with clouds to see for sure until nanami sits back against the large headboard and pulls you into a half-seated position so that you’re leaning against his chest and his strong arm is encircled around your middle as satoru nudges your cum streaked thighs apart. your eyes are lidded, but you still can see him brush his fingers over your used pussy before he wraps his fingers around the base of his cock, unforgiving and no further warning before he presses inside of you.
heat washes over your entire body, your belly aching as you’re filled up to the brim once again. where nanami was thicker, satoru is everything— overwhelming, all consuming. making your eyes slam shut during that first push every time, unable to help your high pitched whines as he forces you to take every last inch of his cock.
“not gonna say ‘t-toru it’s too much’ for me like you did nanami? i must be losing my touch,” he sneers, mocking you with a condescending coo, his eyes rolling down when he bottoms out inside of you.
“f-… god. f-fuck you.”
“anything for you.”
satoru isn’t interested in teasing any longer, not when he’s been on edge for hours. the unruly, hard rhythm of his fucking has you squirming on his cock quick, each thrust knocking you against nanami’s bare chest— giving you nowhere to run. it hurts, but it’s so good. your cunt too sensitive after being used all night long like this, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t love it.
“be good for him, darling,” nanami encourages, and you think you could get used to the way he holds you— his lips pressed against the temple of your head, his breath hot against your skin as he presses the softest of kisses there, contrasted with the brutal lashings of satoru’s fucking. 
you nod dumbly, letting yourself be wrapped in nanami’s strong arms as satoru fucks in and out, relentless in his strokes, keeping that familiar ache in the pit of your belly. his hips press against yours as he grinds the tip of his cock against the entrance to your womb and he knows he’s too deep when you wince, when your fingernails scratch against his tapered v-line to beg for mercy so he compromises, drawing back until he can see the foam streaking his cock.
“puh-please, ‘toru,” you pant out, guttural and desperate so satoru falls over you, groaning into your shoulder as he does exactly what you asked— slamming his cock into you. making you cry out in surprise as he fucks deep once more, pulses of pleasure burning through your body and making your legs clamp around his hips.
“i-i can’t-” you whine, squeezing your thighs together, but satoru holds you open, not taking your complaints, pressing you down further against nanami so that it’s impossible to escape the dirty onslaught of his cock. “much- too much-!”
“oh, now you say it, ” satoru growls out, rolling his hips. “too late. cum for me and i’ll stop. come on, sweet baby. cum on my cock.”
you can tell that he’s losing it too, the friction almost too much to bear for you both. wrapping your arms around satoru’s neck and clinging to him, you bite your lips to muffle the gasps and moans trying to escape as the heat stirring in your belly is almost to bursting now, a rubber band pulled taut and ready to snap. 
nanami ducks a hand between the wet slide of your bodies, pushing his middle finger against your clit. rubbing in quick circles and you mewl, squirming and thrashing against them both. “do what he says, cum for him.” and you try to hold it, try to last a little longer but it’s no use; the three of you are pressed against each other beautifully and the room feels hazy and hot, suffocating everything else until your pleasure is sharpened to a bright point, until you can feel nothing but them. raw pulses. inner walls spasming against satoru’s cock as he thrusts against you, fucking against that spot inside you until it feels sore, his balls slapping against the fat of your ass cheeks each time he sinks into you. 
“i-i’m g’na cum, oh f-fuck, i’m gonna cum-!” 
“oh, there we go,” satoru groans as he fights through the tight squeeze of your walls, like you’re late and he’s tired of waiting.
your vision dots with black stars, screams echoing off the walls of the room in gojo’s penthouse before your back arches and you’re gone, squirting as your swollen walls clamp desperately around satoru’s cock; drenching the sheets below as you gush all over them both, sniffling as the force of your orgasm forces hot tears to spill from your eyes that gojo and nanami bend down to lick away from your cheeks.
satoru follows close behind, his own climax hitting him like a fucking train— groaning as buries himself deep to cream your cunt with his thick cum. the sight of the two of you, so pretty and filthy as you cling to each other, makes nanami cum again too. completely untouched, spurting hot seed against your lower back where he holds you up.
it feels like forever before your eyes flutter open and when they do, you look up at nanami, his face flushed and hair mussed out of the confines of his hair gel. then, your eyes slide down to gojo who is looking utterly pleased with himself. he wraps a hand around the base of his cock, pulling it free before his thumb gently spreads your folds apart, snorting when you hide your face in your hands as both of them fixate on the sight of your ruined cunt once more. thighs streaked with sweat and cum, strands of seed dripping out of your hole to pool beneath you on the sheets. you look so messy and nanami has to tear his gaze away, his gut lurching with the desire to eat it out of you. 
“fuck, that was good,” gojo breathes, and you whine when he scoops up some of the cum leaking out of you with two fingers and pushes it back into your pussy.
“stop staring at it-!”
“don’t be shy. i’m glad i was given the privilege to see you cum like this, darling,” nanami murmurs, kissing your temple as he pries your hands away from your face. then he moves from behind you, letting your body rest amongst the enormous sea of pillows satoru keeps on his bed. “i trust that the two of you will allow me to eat dinner in peace next time, now that you’ve satisfied another one of your appetites.” 
“no promises,” you giggle, stretching out on the bed and bringing one of the pillows closer to cuddle it. 
“i should help you clean up. satoru, where do you keep the towels?” he says and though he sounds like such a gentleman, it’s really because if he keeps staring at the cum leaking out of you in rivulets, he won’t be able to ever leave this fucking room.
but the white-haired sorcerer doesn’t answer him. instead, gojo flops down and hooks an arm around your waist— his long legs tangling with yours as he pulls you against his chest. it feels symbolic to nanami, somehow. like he’s shared your body, shared his own in a way, and now he’s ready to fit the rightful pieces of the puzzle back into their places.
for a moment, nanami had almost forgotten that neither of you have ever belonged to him. 
he is the outsider, after all. 
his expression remains neutral because he knows when he has overstayed his welcome, knows when one of satoru’s little games are over and there are no rematches. he has been in this situation before, after all— younger, reckless, and just as foolish as he is now— so he stands up and prepares to leave with dignity, walk over to his neatly folded clothes on the armchair by the window and hope that he doesn’t fall asleep dreaming about the feeling of your cunt fluttering around him. praying that now that he’s had you, it’ll be out of his system for good—
“where are you going, kento?” you wonder in genuine confusion, wrapping your hand around his wrist to halt his stride as you tilt your head up with a frown. nanami feels his heart kick in his chest. “we can clean up later, silly. come back to bed.” 
“i don’t think i should stay,” nanami sniffs, wishing he had his tie to adjust out of nervous habit. 
“you know, leaving right after you fucked my brains out is not very gentlemanly of you, nanami kento,” you scold halfheartedly, mouth twisted to the side.
“i have missions in the morning so i regrettably cannot-” his ears turn crabapple pink at your crude words, his free hand reaching over to gently pry your fingers away from his wrist but you refuse to let go.
“well, if you want to be a proper lover, then you will,” you tug on his wrist insistently, almost yanking him back onto the slightly damp covers. satoru grins like a cheshire cat as nanami obliges you, sliding into bed on your other side. 
nanami has never wanted to slap an expression off of someone as much as he does now, but as usual satoru sees everything. he sees what nanami refuses to admit right now: that he was relieved you asked him to stay. that you may just have him completely gone. that tonight unearthed long buried feelings for white hair and a mischievous smile. that he just needs a little bit of time, a little bit of coaxing, to stop being so stubborn and come to terms with those facts.
“i told you she’s greedy, nanami,” satoru grins. 
“i suppose i have no choice then, do i?” 
“nope,” you confirm, and you know that the three of you have a lot to discuss tomorrow about what this means but this progression feels natural, adding balance.
nanami staying with the two of you feels like it was meant to be.
“you have to make breakfast in the morning.”
4K notes · View notes
ardensregias · 6 months
Note
SEEING AVENTURINE IN THE LIVESTREAM MADE ME THINK ABOUT MEMOKEEPER! READER WITH HIM :o
I mean since he have such a tragic past, it would be very interesting to see someone who can look into his memories as a Sigonian
I'm so happy you like him too (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠) hope I'm not troubling you
not at all :3 this will contains some leaks and fanarts i've seen about his past! may not be 100% accurate. also memokeepers can choose who they want to be visible to, but i'm not sure about the fortune telling part. this still looks bad despite being in my draft for days goddamn.
Tumblr media
the first time he met you was when you're passing by ipc's pier point, only to spot an exhausted aventurine splayed on his million-credit couch.
since memokeepers are able to become invisible, you curiously approach his room, intrigued by his wealth. and out of kindness, you carefully moved him into his bed, before finding his 'aventurine' stone—which indicates his importance to the corporation.
your growing curiosity led you to pry into his past, watching all the hardships and suffering he had to go through during his childhood, which was supposed to be filled with joy and laughter. instead, you watch as they place thick and heavy chains around his neck and wrists, left him with little to no food, marked his neck with the word 'slave', and force the poor boy to work tirelessly. scene after scene plays out like a film, as a proof of just how cruel the ipc can be.
you stopped looking into his memories, tears forming in the corner of your eyes. you would never guess that this easygoing and arrogant man hides such a past.
eventually, you start following him around—watching him gamble, standing in the corner when he sleeps, even sneaking into the ipc's annual meeting just to make sure he's safe. you find him fascinating, the way he can acts so haughty while having experienced so many things he should never have gone through.
until one day, aventurine's guts tell him to catch this strange, mysterious creature that has been stalking him. but you're so hard to catch, so hard that he has to pretend to sleep to make you lower your guard and make yourself visible.
"snooping around again, little memokeeper?" he chuckles the moment you turn around in surprise. you do want to show yourself to him, but not this early! and when you tried to escape, he caught your hand just before you could teleport, pulling you closer, "since you already know so much about me, i can't possibly let you roam freely anymore,"
so now you live with a rich senior manager of the largest corporation in the cosmos, always stuck to his side—aventurine wouldn't like it if you were to use the knowledge about his past for something that'll ruin his business!
he spoils you, of course—while ignoring the weird look he gets from his subordinates and acquaintances when they saw him talking to the air. so you take care of him in return! comforting him when he has a bad day and making sure he did not forget his meals.
this is a memokeeper's love language me thinks: you also create light cones of the moments when he's the happiest—which are usually when you're around, and you bring them to the garden of recollection to make sure you have something to remember him when the fated day comes. aventurine also keeps some of these rectangle objects in his room, and he probably gaze at the pictures when you're away collecting memories.
bonus: imagine aventurine asking you to reveal his luck for today before he went to gamble, to which you refuse, since memokeepers cannot use their powers for self-indulgent reasons—congrats, now you have earned yourself a pouty aven!
Tumblr media
447 notes · View notes
bl00dlight · 3 months
Text
Maiden
Aemond Targaryen x OC lyseni brothel worker {NSFW} {RQ}
Warnings ● Misogyny, Classic harmful Westerosi male bullshit, canon Aemond incelness, smut, not proof read, mother issues, general woman issues, awkward ass vibes, mentions of violence, UNEDITED, etc etc
Word count ● 5.6k
Author's Note • This isn't QUITE the same as the request, but after ep3... well let's just say it's pretty clear Aemond really ain't the type to uh, treat sex workers with respect. I mean he never was... but this really plays into the whole incel book thing. Sorry y'all. Enjoy the fucked upness. Also sorry for any typos.
Masterlist
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The few nights that Aemond Targaryen had spent visiting Madame Sylvie, were indeed - strange ones.
He had never thought he might return here; never thought he'd stomach the sight of the woman whom his brother had coaxed him to lay with all those years ago. It seemed as though Aemond could remember that fateful day, his thirteenth name day; down to the very last detail. What he had eaten to break his fast that morning, the feeling of his mother's weary smile beaming down at him softly, the bitter taste of the ale his brother had poured down his throat before pulling him towards the seedy streets of flea bottom.
He could remember all, but the memory of entering into Cock Inn, meeting the Madam. That, he'd somehow forgotten, only the knowledge that it had happened remained.
Yet, the first night he returned to Cock Inn, suddenly all returned. The aching saccharine scent of the perfumed air, the soft flesh of bare whores dancing and of course, the peaked eyes of the Madam as she looked upon him.
All were things that seemed to bring him back forcefully to the night Aegon had first brought him here, the night he first lay with a woman. There was still a hardened ache of disgust and humiliation in his chest regarding the matter, for it had not been an experience Aemond enjoyed. Even now, upon returning, he wasn't particularly certain he enjoyed fucking the Madame as he thought he should.
For he hadn't touched a woman since his name day, and strictly returned to the Madam for she felt familiar, known to him.
The prince rather preferred taking comfort from the older woman, laying upon her soft lap, the thick flesh of her arms and thighs cradling his bare body, her hands stroking his hair. She was soothing, understanding - of course only in a way a whore could be. Afterall, Prince Aemond was no fool to think the Madam's affections extended beyond the coin he paid her. Though it was clear she held some level of care - which for Aemond was more than enough to warrant his actions.
He needed to be soothed, cared for - especially after what happened with Lucerys. Especially since he could not bear to see the glimmer of disgust in his own mother's eyes. After all, Aemond had done for her, the sacrifice he had made in honour of duty. After all the years Alicent had willingly chosen Aegon to give attention to over himself. He had been starved of love, starved of affection. So, he sought it in the one place he knew he could get it: Sylvie.
He sighed, laying his head gently upon her lap, her fingers grazing his scalp. For a moment Aemond pretended the Madam was Alicent, that it was she who cooed and praised him softly. Who's touch was soft like silk upon his taut flesh.
Aemond closed an eye, taking in the warmth as the two lay upon a large circular bed, in which candles draped all around the stone ledge behind it. Despite the fact, he knew the brothel's surroundings to be the mastery of artificial comfort, lulling drunken men even further into depravity - he still could not help to take comfort in it. It was a welcome change from the often dreary halls of the Red Keep - which seemed more like the Sept these days.
The prince coiled himself even further upon the Madam, cuddling into her so that he might feel the plushness of her belly upon the back of his head. She felt warm, safe - in an odd way. She made him feel as though he was allowed to rip off the mask of strength he had so thoroughly integrated onto himself. Sylvie looked down upon him, slightly bewildered yet pitying the young man before her.
It was not until the familiar sounds of her protégé entered the room did her eyes wander from Aemond's silver hair. She looked up, noting the tray the young woman held. Upon it a small copper cup in which she had carefully begun to pour milk within its confines. Sylvie gave her a nod, watching as the young woman filed in, placing the tray near the bed.
The Madam rarely took in women and girls to mentor into the trade; however, her current protégé was undoubtedly one which was most promising. The day she had been bought by the Madame was a most memorable one as it was the first time she had ventured to Lys to select girls of a more prestige history - in order to attract patrons of noble birth.
She had remembered laying eyes upon the girl, Sierra, she was called, a girl of ten and two - born in a Lysene pillow house to one of the women who serviced there. She was a strange thing, soft spoken - unsure. She even looked particularly peculiar given the Valerian appearance of most Lysene citizens. Sierra did not bare the silver hair nor purple or pale blue eyes of those whom she lived amongst- instead her hair like aged gold and her eyes stormy.
The girl was odd indeed, not quite as lush or alluring as most Lysene, but rather moony. However, she was prized possession, most commonly sought by older noble men or the sons of Lords recently betrothed. Sierra was easily controlled, unintimidating, so in that way she seemed more like a Lady of the court that a brazen a brothel worker. Sylvie often sent her to men who wished to fuck a maiden and Sierra was most perfect for such desires as in all sense she truly seemed to be one. In that way she was perfect for Aemond, unthreatening as so many young whores could be – and most importantly would not remind him of whatever depravities he stifled down within himself.
“Come.” Sylvie gestured to Sierra, hailing for her to bring the prince the cup.
As she approached the two upon the bed, the prince peaked his head upwards, slowly sitting up and taking the cup from the young woman’s hand. Aemond had remembered her from his name day, remembered her wide eyes observing him and the Madam for a moment before ducking behind the silken drapes. He had always wondered what such a young girl had been doing in a brothel, remembered the coils of her golden curls flickering in the candlelight. Now, as he looked upon her after all those years, it was a reminder of how much he had grown too. She was a woman now, though still seemed just as uncertain of herself he remembered her to be.
Aemond downed half of the milk, his eye scanning her as he placed it back upon the tray, he caught the way Sierra averted his bare body. As he settled back upon the Madam, he rested his head right on her breasts, taking in the comfort of her warm flesh.
As he did so, Sylvie caught note of another worker peak her head through the silken curtains, her eyes wide as if to signal there was trouble that needed to be attended to, the Madam nodded and then caught the gaze of Sierra who approached the intruding brothel worker. Sylvie watched as the two young women were caught in a brief exchange, and it seemed that Sierra had been passed a small note – which soon made its way into the free hand of the Madam.
Patron trouble. Girl left bloodied, after a refusal of payment.
Sylvie then gave a nod to the waiting brothel worker, sighing softly as she knew this would be no easy task. The known rule of Cock Inn was for no harm to befall her girls, lest there be a tax placed upon any patron for the coin she would be unable to make in her recovery.  Though it wasn’t uncommon for patrons to become… unruly with her girls, and such behaviour was not tolerated at the Cock Inn as it was to be one of the finer establishments – meant for pleasure, not outright degeneracy.  For the most part the tax alone dissuaded most men from harming the workers, though for the ones that did – it was an arduous task getting them to meet the agreement of the tax.
Aemond closed his eye when he felt the warmth of Sylvie’s hand come to his chin, guiding his eye to meet hers.
“My prince…” Her voice soft, cooing, “It seems I must attend a rather urgent matter regarding one of the girls. I shall see to it that some of your coin is returned.” The Madam lowered her head, shifting away from him as Aemond raised his brow in curiosity.
He sat up, then, extended back to lean upon the stone ledge, “Hm, I shall wait your return.”
The Madam shook her head, rising up to her feet as she readjusted her robe, “This particular matter shall not be easily solved, I fear. I may not return for quite a time.”
Her head turned to meet the gaze of the waiting brothel worker, she then found herself pondering upon Sierra. Who meekly awaited the Madam’s next instruction, she cleared her throat before speaking to the prince once more, “Very well then… please allow for Sierra to amuse you in the meantime. She is particularly popular amongst many noble men as yourself.”
He shook his head, averting his gaze, “I’ve no use for her in that manner.”
“Indeed…” A small smirk came upon Sylvie’s face, she lowered her head, raising her brow as she chuckled briefly, “I mean for her to take my place... to satisfy such particular tastes of yours as you would have me?”
Aemond met Sylvie’s gaze, almost like a boy stubbornly resisting his mother’s advice, the Madam tilted her head, moving over to Sierra who stood; wide eyed and unsure. The Madam gripped Sierra’s arm, leading her closer to the bed, “She is most gentle.”
His eye narrowed and Aemond took a deep breath in, his chest raising in apprehension as he scanned the young woman before him. Her cherubic face, slightly trembling demeanour. He gritted his teeth and nodded, “Very well.”
With that Sylvie gave him a small nod of approval, before gently grazing Sierra’s lower back as she left. As the older woman made her way through the drapes, Sierra quickly followed; gripping her forearm softly causing the Madam to snap her head towards her. The young whore stuttered as she whispered, meeting the concerned eyes of her mentor, “Madam I…”
Sylvie sighed and brought Sierra closer, whispering firmly, “Just hold the boy. Do as you’ve seen me. Go, girl.”  She pulled herself way, giving the other worker a subtle nod as she was led away.
Sierra turned, taking a deep breath in to centre herself. She had never been with a man as powerful as the prince, never known such fear which coursed through her at the thought of what might happened to her if she was to displease him. Her hear thumped as she took that fateful step back through the haze of silken drapes, as she entered she felt the harsh gaze of that lonesome eye upon her, scanning her.
Aemond sat up freely, leaning back upon the stone ledge – uncaring that he was completely exposed before her. He let himself take her in, her willowing form which held a peculiar softness to it. The roundness of her breasts and hips which clung to the silk robe draping her form – the familiar flicker of her flock of curls which had turned a rich gold with age, a few bronzed and silvery strands peppered through them. He watched as her fingers delicately began to disrobe herself but her looked away. “Don’t.” The prince muttered.
As Sierra heard the smooth sound of his voice ring, she froze slowly looking up to him as she thought how odd he was to refuse her bare. Instead, he merely signalled awkwardly for her to join him upon the bed, in which she obliged.
She sat carefully upon the end, feeling the gaze of him boring into her back, Sierra lowered her head, “Do I displease you?” A soft tinge of her Lysene accent still lingering.
A small sigh left the prince as he shook his head and mumbled once more, “No.”
“You… you wish for the Madam.” Her voice soft as she turned her head to look upon him.
“We share a history.” Aemond spoke plainly, his eye narrowing as he gazed upon the young woman before him.
The soft flush to her cheeks, her skin plump and face still retaining the kiss of girlhood upon it, there was no mistaking the difference in her appearance to the Madam. He had noticed how despite the womanly graces Lady’s his own age possessed, they hardly appeared as grown at all in comparison to the older counterparts. There was something distinctively different to a mature woman, the way her cheeks sunk in a tad, or her skin would be softened with lotions to mask the tautness that comes with age. How their voices are deeper and eyes brimming with confidence, as if they know you all too well. In a way it was a comfort for Aemond, to have a woman understand his desire – to have seen so many men before that harboured similar needs, that for once, he did not feel so different in his depravity. The Madam knew just how to sooth and ease him, without judgement that so many younger women may possess. Indeed, there was no mistaking how Sierra was likely no older than himself.
He suddenly spoke, “What age are you?”
Instantly she felt her cheeks go red, her voice soft, girlish, “Eight and Ten, I believe.”
The prince raised his brow at this, slightly shocked at her coyness. He had never seen a whore blush before, it almost seemed like a jest, “You believe? You do not know how old you are?”
She let out a gentle breath before shaking her head, beginning to turn away before a sudden fierce grip clutched at her wrist. Seirra turned upon the bed, her eyes wide.
“Do not look away. Speak.” Aemond commanded softly, though a slight unease filled him at the sight of her uncertainty.
“I… I do not know of my name day?” She replied.
He tilted his head, once again shocked by her flustered appearance, and of course that she would not know of her name day. “You do not know?”
Sienna felt the soft satiny texture of the sheets below her, her eyes drifting downwards as she spoke, remembering her fractured girlhood, “I was born in a pillow house… my prince. My mother perished but a few years into my youth, I remember little.”
He bit his cheeks, studying her, “Hm, and your father?”
The whore looked up, her voice soft, “A mystery.”
As Aemond continued to scan her, he noted the way she altered herself in his presence – making herself appear small, less intimidating. A strange, amused look fell upon him as it found it both titillating and frustrating.  He spoke sternly again, changing the subject, “Your accent…tis strange.”
“I am from Lys.” Sierra replied.
The prince hummed, seemingly surprised, “The Valerian freehold? You appear more like a Lannister than Lysene.” He watched her as he shrugged, and he hummed again, “Hm.”
The energy in the air was rife with tension, not to mention a cloying awkwardness Sierra had seldom felt with other patrons. As though he was waiting for her to be the one to approach him, and that he was.
Fed up with his inaction she moved closer to him, noting the flicker of discomfort in his gaze – still the young whore pushed forward, positioning herself beside him. Aemond gave her awkward glance before slowly sitting up, looking out onto the lewd paintings on the chamber walls. He couldn’t help but feel a sudden nervousness, he had never been with anyone but the Madam, never touched a younger woman. He felt a vulnerability like none other, his face hardening as he began to withdraw back into himself.
“My prince?” Her voice faltered, exhaustion over the situation making her voice all the meeker, she didn’t wish to pursue him if he was to be like this. It was too much, she risked too much – the mere throughout of displeasing him and what he might do was enough to have her tense. But the mere fact it was he who seemed nervous, he who seemed unsure of himself – made the matter all the worse.
She reached out, attempting to draw him back, her hand brushing his shoulder.
“Don’t.” Aemond shifted, refusing to meet her gaze as he felt the touch of her fingers.
Another silence bloomed, and Sierra moved back, contemplating on what seemingly had set him off in such a manner. However, the thought soon occurred to her that she had never once seen the prince with any other but the Madam recently, that never once had she noticed or even heard of the King’s younger brother gracing the Street of Silk. It had only been that night all those years ago, a slight pity bloomed as she understood he was likely uncertain of how to even engage with a woman of his own age, so stifled by his own propriety, “You have been with no other… haven’t you?”
Aemond did not respond to this of course, only growing more angered and overwhelmed by the situation he found himself within. In fact, he began to regret even returning to Sylvie, he ought to have dealt with his feelings as a man would, focus on the war, on sharpening his mind and training his body. Readying himself to lead forces to take Harrenhal, not simpering like a boy in the arms of a woman… not even just a woman… a whore in fact. His thoughts were broken by Sierra’s silvery voice, “It would bring me much disgrace if I were unable to please you. The Madam would not have asked this of me, if she did not think me… fit.. for you.”
Her words though, seemed to tempt him once more and though he wished to resist it, he also feared the idea of her finding him so weak to be unable to face both his desire and lack of experience. With a small puff of his chest and stretch of his neck, he found his gaze hardening and mummering lowly, “Move.”
The younger woman followed his command, moving herself to the position in which Sylvie usually encompassed upon the bed, Aemond turned his head gazing over her swiftly before he moved to lay upon her hesitantly. Sierra looked down, her mind reeling as she had never seen a man behave in this way towards her… it was odd, though not displeasing. Slowly she brought her hand to his silver locks, gently threading through them, attempting to mimic what she had seen Sylvie do upon him. As the prince laid his head upon her chest, he felt himself unable to find the same kind of comfort as he usually did, his eye remaining open, the thought of giving in to such vulnerability in front of a woman such as she, seemed unthinkable. He couldn’t relax, shifting and readjusting himself endless and Sierra could sense as such as she cringed internally at the sheer gracelessness of it all.
As the prince finally settled upon her lap, he had managed to find a semblance of relief from the tension that made him restless. It was the familiar softness of her thighs, that same sweet and musky perfumed skin that it seemed all the whores, the Madam included doused on their skin. Gradually he had managed to close his eye, letting himself be taken by her hand making contact once more with his scalp.
“I… remember you.” She whispered.
Instantly his muscled stiffened at her words, Aemond didn’t reply, he only opened his eye.
“From all those years ago… and yet never again since.” Sierra whispered again, her voice sweet and girlish as she looked down upon the gleam of his silver strands.
The prince cleared his throat quietly, “Hm. I had no need to return.”
“And now?” She countered, though the prince did not reply, he closed his eye once more, ignoring her and focusing on the soothing pleasure of her fingers against his scalp.
“You have only been with the Madam-” Sierra began again before being swiftly interrupted.
His head turned upwards slightly, Aemond suddenly gripped her wrist, forcing her hand from his hair as he snapped, “I do not pay to have my intentions dissected freely.”
Sierra found herself suddenly stammering as she nodded fiercely, feeling his grip loosen upon her wrist as she slowly brought it back to his hair. Aemond gave her a warning glare before turning his head back, nestling his head further into her lap before he closed his eye. Silence bloomed… and awkward one at that.
As the prince lay there, awaiting for her to further such affections upon him he huffed, “You may do more.” He mumbled.
The young whore looked down upon him, unsure of how exactly to approach furthering her touch, nonetheless she lowered her head, her head turning slowly to look up to her. Sierra cupped his jaw and forced herself closer, straining her body slightly from the awkward positioning. Gently she let her lips kiss at his forehead and cheek, her hands moving his face slightly awkward and soon the prince himself shifted his frame to a more accessible position. His head now once again resting upon her chest, tilted upwards as she gazed upon his softly, he noted the way her eyes flickered as they lingered upon his sapphire eye.
Sierra went to kiss him away, but Aemond suddenly grew discomforted – feeling a particular sting of insecurity of his face. He had never been so close to a woman of his age. Never been touched by skin which was plump with youth. His jaw clenched as he pulled away slightly, but the feeling of her cool hand came to his face once more drawing him near, “You are unsure.” She read him.
“No.” Aemond replied firmly, though it was a lie.
Sierra shook her head, scanning him carefully, “Do you not think I might know when a man might feel…tentative? You have not known the touch of others; I do not blame- “
“I am not some simpering boy who has not fucked a woman. Do not presume to know the reason behind my hesitation.” The prince snapped in response, his temper flaring as her words struck a chord so exact it made him reel, for he knew she was right. Knew that he had indeed never been with another but the Madam, and even that had been a affair spurred on by recent events. The Madam felt easiest to approach, easiest to reveal himself to. She had already seen him at his weakest, frozen with fear and disgust as a young boy. Spurred on by the taunting of his brother. Who else was he supposed to turn to with such desires, who else would give him comfort in the way he needed?
He stiffened attempting to regain the well curated mask of infallibility though he could not stifle that familiar nervous restlessness which dawned upon him again the wake of her silence.
Sierra let her gaze fall, seemingly thinking on his words. Though she ignored them all together knowing they were merely the deflections of a young man who felt his ego wavering at the notion of his inexperience. The young whore looked up softly and before she could stop herself, “I wish to show you.”
Prince Aemond merely blinked at her, shocked by her sudden request. The two shared what felt like an eternity in stillness and like that he nodded, no other words being exchanged.  
Sierra almost couldn’t believe he had agreed so… easily? There was a small moment of uncertainty between them as their bodies shifted once more, Aemond sitting upwards gazing at her expectantly as she disrobed herself. His eye couldn’t help but scan her tender form, the peaks of her breasts, the blooming swell of her soon to be developed hips; a young maid’s body – not yet enhanced by motherhood.
She settled back into her spot where he could coil upon her again and that he did. Her gaze lowered as she noted how his soft strands felt upon her bare skin. Slowly she brought his hand into hers, guiding it to her breast, letting him knead the soft flesh. Aemond found himself unable to fight against his desire carefully watching the way his fingers grazed the bud of her breast. A soft moan escaped her, making him buzz with desire, he did not resist when feeling her other hand guide his head closer, he wet his lips before leaning in further to clasp them upon her nipple, suckling softly.
The young whore let out a soft whimper, moving his hand lower, “You may please… a woman by touching her.” She guided his hand between her wet folds, letting his fingers graze her clit.
The soft mewls which left her lips set off a fire in him, the feeling of her wetness on his finger made him want to work to pleasure her more. His lips clasped her nipple harder, his soft suckling intensifying as his fingers rubbed quickly, inching to stick themselves inside her. Sierra grabbed his silver hair gently, pulling him away, her eyes meeting his lonesome one.
Aemond felt his cock stiffening greatly and slowly she let her hands come to his chest, his body shifting as he cradled himself against her. Sierra found herself grasping at the length between him, stroking it gentle to gauge his reaction – which was all but enamoured with pleasure as he shut his eye, burying his head in the crook of her neck.
Her hand moved, stroking at him feeling the softness of his skin in her palm – as she did so, her lips peppered small kisses upon his forehead. Sierra was gentle with him, despite the lewdness of the act – her touch and tenderness was a comfort the prince was indulging in. He raised his head up; a soft groan left him as he forced his lips into hers. For a moment he would pretend she weren’t just a whore, but a woman who’s feelings were that of true care. As her hand increased its speed, Aemond let out a low whimper into their kiss, moving to force his lips on her neck.
Sierra tilted her head, closing her eyes as she too found herself letting go to the heady feeling between them. He was much different than the usual man who might use her, he seemed less interested in fucking her and more interested in being tended to. So that’s what she did; slowly Sierra pulled her hand from his length, a soft muttering of protest leaving him.
“Lie back.” She whispered, and Aemond obliged.
His eye was narrowed with need as he gazed upon her, watching as her soft frame now hovered over his own. Slowly he raised a hand to her cheek, feeling the smooth skin that flushed pink upon his touch. He watched her with a keen eye as she lowered herself down further, settling between his legs. Aemond shuddered a breath, his eye growing wide as he felt his heart thump wildly; suddenly he felt like a boy again – struck by an awkward inability to verbalise his desire. Though Sierra already knew, as she lowered her head, kissing softly upon his hip as her hand wrapped around his length once more.
The sight of her doing such a thing made him furrow his brow, her lips pressing so gently into his taut muscle made him feel a tad unmanned; mainly because he enjoyed it. Aemond brought a hesitant hand to her hair, deciding that he would indeed take control for once, that if he were going to let a whore take him – he would attempt to assert his desire.
As his fingers laced his spindly fingers into her curls, forcing her head lower until he felt her lips graze against his aching tip. “Take me.” He grumbled.
Her eyes looked up to his as her mouth came to clasp his tip, swirling her tongue upon him; the fleshy, yet salty taste that dripped from him filling her mouth. Aemond’s own mouth dropped, his jaw slightly slack as his head tilted back, he felt his fingers tightened their grip in her curls, slowly moving her mouth to take more of him. The prince opened his eye, looking down as a strange satisfaction brewed from the sight of it, her mouth taking as much as he wished it to.
Another groan left him as she moved her lips up and down him, gaining traction as the moments passed, his hips now bucking – fucking himself into her mouth. He forced her head upon him faster, and Sierra let him as she hollowed her cheeks – siphoning him to the point where his moans turned to pants. Her own sounds falling from her as she too felt a strange enjoyment from seeing him take so much pleasure.
He kept pushing, his cock now an ache in which he needed relief from, Aemond’s mouth hung once more as he mumbled, “Faster.”  To which the golden haired whore before him did so, her hand now enveloped around the tail end of the base of his cock, stroking it so that the orchis’ which hung between him were grazed – sending him into a further frenzy.  Thoughts of wanting to push himself between her thighs filled him, a fantasy of what she may feel like around him, how her arms would wrap around him, cradle him; it all made him huff. The pressure that built in him felt more than pleasurable, it felt like a burning flame had been set off in his loins; at this point he could hardly care about the comfort Madam Sylvie brought him, now all he could think of was how he longed to see his seed force its way into Sierra’s mouth.
 Then a tinge of anger filled him, frustration as his grip intensified as he fucked himself into her mouth – edging at his release. He felt like his brother, depraved, hungry with a force he had stifled for so long. But the thought of a whore striking such feelings in him suddenly left him feeling slightly conflicted, almost angered by the sight of her bringing him such pleasure. Aemond’s hand tugged harshly upon her hair making her wince and she looked back, confused by the sudden streak of aggression, to which in her uncertainty she began to pull away.
“Keep going.”  The prince choked out, his voice low and soft… yet, oddly threatening.
Aemond reeled at feeling small snaps of her curls break in his hand. Sierra slowly finding her mouth back upon him, siphoning him as quickly as possible though she began to tremble slightly. Afterall, this was no common patron, she could not warn him of the brothel’s code of conduct – for he could very well burn the place to a fucking cinder or worse, have their heads for an accused treason… or in an effort to purge Kings Landing of its sin. The Gods know it would not be the first time whores were blamed for the depravity of men’s desires.
It filled him with a familiar streak of satisfaction as he watched her buckle beneath him. Glory flooding him as the pleasure of her mouth brough him finally to his peak and the events of recent flashing through his mind as he rode out his long awaited release. That flash of fear upon his face reminded him of who he was, and what he was capable of. Afterall even his uncle… The Rogue Prince himself had sought for him to be slayed in his sleep.
 Daemon feared him, his mother feared him, his grandsire… the Blacks…and now the whore between him feared him. They should. He thought.
The sentiment lingered as he felt his peak slash through him, spilling into Sierra’s now hot mouth. He looked down, satisfied though disgruntled. He was quick to force her off of him, interrupting her as she went to speak. It was clear Aemond did not wish to hear what she had to say.
Uncaringly, he rose to his feet, his cock still stiff and buzzing, he reached to dress himself – feeling the soft, unsure gaze of the whore who still sat upon the bed boring into his bare back. He ignored her, unwilling to admit the pleasure he had brought her, or the vulnerability that had been seen of him. It was gone, just like that. Done away with.
As he felt himself calm, a focus coming over him as the blood rushed from his length. Without another word he abandoned her, sauntering through the Cock Inn, the sounds of passing moans flooding his ears and perfumed air attacking his senses. Clarity. Is what he thought.
Clarity that he did not need to bury himself in a whore like his brother. He had greater control; he was indeed a man of finer stock. What need did he have to give in to not only a young woman… but a whore. Born so lowly she was conceived and birthed in a pillow house. No, Aemond would take the pleasure and comfort he had gotten and focus his mind elsewhere.
At least until such desires demanded easing again.
Tumblr media
326 notes · View notes
fairuzfan · 9 days
Text
Tumblr media
For Liefer to pull up a Camus quote like this is quite laughable because of how the dynamics mirror each other. In the modern day, we have a status quo where Palestinians continue to be imprisoned and murdered and raped and segregated, denied basic medical care for years on end, all on their own land — while Jewish Israelis (to make distinction from Palestinians with Israeli citizenship, as many liberal zionists love to point out) suffer no consequences for anything, even if they play a direct role in the continued erasure and genocide of Palestinians. So if given a choice between suffering no consequences while benefiting from the status quo (that will not change unless the oppressed take it upon themselves to change their circumstance) and suffering consequences in the form of direct personal loss (with the strategy of forcing things to change by ennacting the same type of violence that the occupied experience on a daily basis onto the occupiers), of course someone who stands to lose nothing from the continuation of the status quo would rather the status quo continue if he has something to lose otherwise. Camus, when he said this quote, was not being righteous or overly sensitive. If anything, it shows how little he understood at the time of saying this quote. Because he didn't understand that an Algerian will suffer in both scenarios even if he (Camus) is safe, and for him to say something like this when people lived generations worth of violence for his and his family's (social) benefit is annoying and just plain offensive. Who is he, as a Frenchman born in occupied Algeria, to say what is worth justice when he only stands to lose anything in one scenario but not the other? He did not experience life as an Algerian native in French occupation. He might have observed it, growing up poor, yes, but he never LIVED it. Liefer might have observed the horror of settler colonialism, but that's nothing like experiencing it firsthand. To be the object of hatred to people who have higher status and more rights than you. It's just not his place as a person with nothing to lose if the status quo continues to comment on anything like this. What's the underlying meaning of this quote? "I'd rather others continue to suffer than myself experiencing suffering once."
I'm not saying Liefer doesn't have a right to mourn whoever. Im not even saying he has a duty to accept the consequences he experiences. But to say something so heartless as "I prefer the safety of my own rather than justice" within the larger, nearly century worth of context, is just insensitive and really belies his true opinions of the liberation of Palestine if he's so comfortable saying this outloud with moral authority in the middle of what is an outright bloodbath of Palestinians across Palestine. It's the timing of saying something like this because to say it now of all times when the entire world ignores or even encourages the violence in Gaza but mourns the death of Israelis? An Algerian born Frenchman and Israeli are going to be mourned on an international scale... but Palestinian and Algerian natives? Their deaths are regarded as facts of life by the rest of the world.
This makes it seem like I hate Camus, but I honestly don't, but I think the way Leifer is holding this quote up at face value and as the height of reason really is annoying. People like to mention Camus' "if" in this case as proof that he's actually saying "this is not real justice so therefore I do not have to accept it," but who is he to say what is or is not justice? The point I'm getting at is the people who benefit from occupation, in this case, Camus and Liefer have no right to determine what is or is not justice, despite their personal beliefs. The occupier has no right to tell the occupied what they should do to get freed. That alone is an arrogance in assertion that is so offending — the assertion that the occupier knows how to free the occupied in what *he* considers justice and the occupied just need to do whatever the occupier tells them to do. Because whether they both like it or not, they still benefit from and are part of the occupying force, and therefore have no real reason to fight the occupation at their own expense — the occupation is a violence that they are alright with inflicting if it means they cannot lose anything or anyone.
Also the idea that liefer indirectly compares himself to Camus is a little funny to me.
149 notes · View notes
peachesofteal · 1 year
Text
Floorplan
Tumblr media
Steve Rogers/female reader 2.1k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ MDNI. Explicit sex. Nomad era Steve. Reader and Steve have a baby together, mention of pregnancy. Possessive Steve Rogers. Praise kink. Breeding kink. Daddy kink. Dirty talk. Orgasm delay/denial. Could be considered toxic. Steve has issues with boundaries. Angst. Steve Rogers is keeping a secret.
Steve Rogers is keeping a secret. 
It’s heavy, heavier than most, this you know without a doubt, because you carry it as well, it’s existence a variable in your life that you never expected, never even imagined, if you’re being honest. 
A variable that ties him to you, indefinitely. For eternity. For better or for worse, without the papers or proof, the only exception being the small infant that sleeps in the room down the hall, while her father has you pinned against the bed, fingers digging into your thighs, splaying your body wide for him to do as he wishes, because you’re so fucking weak.
“Steve.” You hiss, word drawn loud from your mouth when the tip of his tongue works in tandem with his fingers, playing your clit easily, hips eagerly rocking against his face. 
“Pillow, honey. Don’t want to be too loud.” He murmurs a reminder into your cunt, crooking a finger up against that spot, the sweet spot that waits for him inside your body, working you into a mindless haze, building you up closer and closer to an orgasm until you’re panting, curve of your spine shining with a glimmer of sweat. “That’s it, that’s it. Almost there.” He hums, pulling away at the last second to peek up at your face, beard wet with you, absolutely soaked with your arousal. It glistens in the low light of your bedroom, and he smirks before going back to his meal, dotting gentle and slow kisses down the inside of your thigh that make you whisper desperate pleas. 
“Steve, please, don’t-“ Don’t stop. Keep going. Please, please, please. 
“Shhh. I know.” He coos. “Just need to get you ready for me sweetheart, that’s all.” And, if you weren’t so lost in the haze of your pleasure right now, you’d probably have something sharp to say in response. He always does this. Brings you to the edge over, and over, makes you wild for him, ache for him, just so he can pluck your strings perfectly, harmonize your need with his since your mind won’t budge, his possession of your body always tipping you over the cliff and into his arms, every time, without fail. 
Even a sailor lost at sea needs an anchor. 
And he is lost, has been, for some time. Since Bucky. Since Tony. Since he broke everyone out of the raft and went on the run, dipping in and out of towns and cities across the globe. 
That’s how you met him. That’s how you brought him home one night, that turned into two, that turned into more, and more. Your greed, your desire overriding your good sense because he was leaving soon, and he wouldn’t be around, and it’s all just some fun- I can keep a secret, Steve, you don’t have to hide from me. You’re safe with me. We’re not even together, just enjoying each other’s company, yeah?
You never thought you would survive it, loving him. Loving a man who’s not a man at all, who’s lost in the wilderness, who’s relearning everything about himself and the world all at once. Cast out by his country, his own namesake. Living on the run. Living with his band of misfit toys. 
So, you kept it to yourself, even though he didn’t. Even though you heard him whisper it to you in the middle of the night, when he thought you must be asleep. Even though it felt like obsession, possession, both ends burning the midnight oil. You kept it to yourself, kept the smile on your face, kept the swell of your emotions at bay. 
If you don’t love him, it won’t be as bad, when he goes. When they move on. 
Then, Steve Rogers did something he didn’t even know he could do. Something he didn’t intend, he claims, something he was told should be impossible. 
He gave you a baby. 
He gave you a baby, and everything changed. 
You’re just about to spit out something insistent, something needy, as he calls it, when you’re being moved, flipped over to your belly with no warning, the warmth of his chest bleeding across your back. His beard tickles against your ear, mouth pressing sweet kisses to your temple, and you can smell yourself on him, the proof of your weakness for him all over his face. 
“Here we go, good girl. I’ve got you.” The solid weight of his cock lays between you, the spill of his pre come smearing against the inside of your thighs and then inside of you, the heavy, thick head pushing in little by little, your mouth drooping wide on the pillow. 
“Ahh-“ you groan. It bites, the stretch, the sting of it all, and he knows, he loves it, and you do too (even though now you never tell him, because it’s not like before, not like when you weren’t the mother of his child, not like when things were simpler, when you could have walked away, when you weren’t falling down the rabbit hole with a man who has lost his entire identity, his country, his life-)
“God, honey. What a sweet little pussy you have for me, huh?” His teeth find the skin of your neck, below your jaw, and they graze with a nip, light pressure to punctuate his ownership. For me. For me, for me, for me. “Just perfect. My perfect, good girl.” You try to bite back the moan that rises in your throat but it’s impossible, and he’s no fool, the curl of his smile imprints across your skin, cock sawing in and out of your body like you were made for it. 
He says you were, of course. That you were made for him, and for no one else, and he doesn’t care what happens in the next year, or two, or ten. You’ll always be his. He’ll always come back. He’ll always be here. 
“What will you do if… when you go home, to America?”
“I’ll bring you both. Put you up in a place. Or maybe I’ll buy you a house, honey. With a white picket fence and everything. Give you another baby. Give you two more babies.”
“Steve-“
“No, no. Don’t.”
“Steve.” You whine, still mouthing the pillow, fingers tight in the sheets. You clench down around him, unable to keep yourself from barreling towards your orgasm any longer, and he whispers encouragement in your ear, soft praise of how good you feel and how wet and are you going to come for me, honey? You going to give a me a good one? Let me feel you squeezing my cock with it?
Your first orgasm comes with ease. So does your second. 
Your third comes with tears that he laps up across your cheek, as too many words get stuck in your throat. I love you. I hate you. I don’t want you here. I don’t want you to leave. 
It builds, each time he slips inside the house at night, each time you come home from work or errands and he’s sitting on the couch reading a book, or sketching, just waiting for you and Emmaline. It builds and builds, when he’s got you bent over the kitchen table, cheek pressed to the wood, sinking his cock into your body with an unmatched fury, breathing claims of ownership against your skin. Mine, for me. My girls. My baby. 
“Maybe I’ll give you another. Fill you up until you’re overflowing, get you pregnant.” It’s an overload, a killshot straight to your heart, your nervous system, and it engulfs you in fire, your body clenching around his cock involuntarily, like all it wants is to be bred by him, fucked deep with his come until you’re round with his baby, again. And he knows it, knows it too well. Sees the way your eyes shutter, can feel the way your body begs for it. You want to come, and he’ll torture you with it, dragging it out until you’re breaking apart. “Go ahead, tell me honey. Say it, do you want it?” 
“Y-yes, please. Please, daddy.” 
Everything you carry, all the tangles, the snarled mess that exists in your heart for him surges, and his hand sneaks between the mattress and your body to cup your belly, palm warm like a brand. Like it’s always been, now, and before- 
He holds you from behind, hands flush overtop your navel, stroking the roundness of your stomach with longing affection. 
“How’re my girls today?” 
“Tired.” You shift, and he hums in response. You’re about to snap at him about being here in the first place, remind him he can’t just use his key whenever, let himself inside whenever, but his hands drift to the bottom of your belly and lift, robbing you of all the lectures and rebuttals as the pressure on your spine is instantly relieved. 
“That better sweetheart?” 
He’s deep, so deep that it burns, head of his cock punching against your cervix, hitting that spot repeatedly. You gasp, burying your face in the pillow, smothering the shriek of your moans. He’s close, you can tell, you can feel it, the way his muscles start to become rock, the strike of his hips against your ass moving you further up the bed until your neck is craning to the side to avoid the headboard.
“Here it comes honey, lie still, just- just let me- let me give it to you.” It’s a stammered slur being pushed out through a too tense jaw, restraint burning in his muscles, arms cradling you like a precious, rare gem to be coveted, something more important than duty and a shield. 
Later, he’s still in your bed, even though he said he wouldn’t be. 
He’s heavy, and hot, so hot that you don’t need a blanket when he holds you. You find it fascinating, even more curious that your own child runs hotter than normal too, more evidence of the clear truth that both you and Steve are working vigilantly to hide and disguise. 
“You should sleep.” He’s insistent, and your lashes flutter closed with a big breath. 
“You don’t have to stay.” He wants to. He’s stubborn about it. It’s the reason he gave for appearing on your doorstep earlier. 
“Why didn’t you call? I would’ve come sooner.” 
“It’s not like I know where you are these days.” 
“Don’t. Don’t… start this.” 
“She has colic, Steve. There’s not much you’re going to be able to do, we just have to ride it out.” 
“I don’t care. I’m here.” 
He was the one who had managed getting Emmaline to sleep earlier, rocking her in his arms until she settled, sweet little baby finally succumbing to lullaby of sweet dreams in her dad’s arms. 
He’s so good at it, taking care of her, understanding what she needs and when, that you hardly sputtered a protest when he clicked her door shut and pulled you in for a kiss, pushing you into your own bedroom and laying you out on your back, a hand pinning your stomach to the sheets, another gripping your thigh wide for him, his strength forcing your body into a trap, where you were powerless. Stuck.  
“I guess I gotta put both my girls to bed, right? Isn’t that what you needed? Just needed daddy here, honey?”  
“Close your eyes, sweetheart. I’ll get her, when she gets up.” The fire of his skin makes everything in the room feel heavy, feel heady, and it’s so easy to slip into your imagination to pretend, dream about a world where your relationship wasn’t shattered, where Emmaline’s dad wasn’t just a shadow in the dark half the time he’s in the house, in her life, in yours. 
“You can’t just keep coming here, acting like everything is normal.” You whisper to the ceiling, but he doesn’t respond, just hums into your skin, deaf to your sense, your logic. 
You’re right. You know you are. Why can’t he just see that?
“Steve.” You pick at him. Pushing and pushing, careening closer to a breaking point, an inevitable end when he will sigh with the weight of exasperation, and then ease himself out of bed and disappear into the night. 
“This is the normal, for now.” He says instead, a rebuttal that takes you by surprise, a change in his usual course. Fingers stretch over yours with a yank, pulling you closer into the bend of his body. “But it won’t always be like this. We’ll go home soon.” Home. It sounds nice, but feels like a threat, considering this has been your home for years now, and this was where you were raising Emmaline, and this is where you had settled into life, started a career, put down roots. 
“Steve, I’m already home.” You remind him and he chuckles softly against your brow. 
“Are you?”
548 notes · View notes
randombush3 · 5 months
Text
cherry wine
jenni hermoso x reader
part one
i hate this but i'm posting it anyway LOL
also sorry if it doesn't make sense but just like don't read into it 🙂
thanks @codiemarin for part two's idea xx
i also feel like every character deserves an apology in this
p.s. not proofread soz
Tumblr media
Jenni decides that she doesn’t mind too much. 
She is happy in Mexico, and, just like in Paris, her escape becomes a person, not a place. 
You have moved, and now you speak Spanish. She still doesn’t know where you are from. 
Your husband, however, is a lot more forthcoming. He works in oil. He owns a quarter of the club; he bought the shares without a second thought. You have no daughter but your husband wants women’s football to have a future. He isn’t a bad man, which Jenni hates. 
He is kind – filthy rich, but kind – and it makes it hard to hurt such a good person. 
Fortunately, ‘hard’ and ‘impossible’ are not synonymous. 
Motherhood brings about no thaw, but your iciness is what has always made you so enticing to Jenni. 
She memorises your address, and she is now the one who appears. The security guards open the gates for her when the time is right, and if it isn’t, they hustle her to a nearby bar and instruct her to wait. She waits obediently. She waits because you always call her back at some point. 
When you are with Jenni, cold fingertips warmed, eyes burning with desire, the tightrope she walks widens. She plants her feet with certainty, however false it may be. She looks down at the wire to avoid the world that blazes around her, and she never dares to look ahead because she knows that it is never going to be the right time to ask. 
It looks ugly, but it’s clean. 
Jenni is happy to be with you; happy here in Monterrey, just as she was happy there in Paris. 
Happy to hide and drag herself out of your bed past midnight. 
His bed. (She tries not to think about it.)
The complicating factor is the two little boys running around the mansion, chased by tired nannies who aren’t sure how to explain why their mother needs to be left alone with their favourite footballer. That’s what Jenni becomes, unluckily, because your husband is so forward-thinking that he takes the boys to see the girls. 
Although your piercing eyes can make Jenni shiver, the boys are unaffected. They run rings around everyone, but Jenni can sometimes bark out a command and get them to sit. 
Often enough, they sit an appropriate distance from your bedroom, patiently waiting for your private meeting to be over before hounding Jenni the minute she emerges. They take no notice of her tousled hair or wild eyes, and their attention flings Jenni’s tears back inside of her whenever you get a bit too harsh with her, so it’s all good. 
When her mother calls and asks why Jenni has learnt French now instead of when she played there, she tells her not to fuss. 
Jenni is removed from those who care about her, but the haze of comfort you provide blinds her to her mistakes. 
You are hers and she is yours. 
She lies in the palm of your hand and likes when your fist closes around her. She feels safe that way. 
She likes when there is blood because the blood tastes as sweet as cherry wine. Blood is proof that you are real. Your blood runs hot like tar, and she is glad to be rooted to the spot. 
Weeks go by, and Jenni’s latest medal begins to strangle her. 
You are starting to fall in love. 
It’s never happened before. 
It’s not dutiful and it’s not because you are too weak to overcome a woman’s nature; incapable of recoding the innate forces of motherhood. It’s not as taxing or exhausting, and it is certainly not the chore you thought love would be. 
Love is radiation, in a sense, and you cannot conceal it. 
Jenni is unaware that she should dress herself in lead, but suddenly everything is contaminated and, apparently, it is all her fault. 
He’s away. 
Jenni knows he is away because he said goodbye to her when he visited the team during their training session. He wished her luck for the match, he professed his faith in her to bring his club success. He is slowly losing the French accent when he speaks, he is slowly catching up to her. 
He’s away but this time she can’t shake the feeling of him in your bed. 
It’s never happened before. 
She still wants it, but her crime is flashing bright red in her mind. 
You, guilty too, flee from the lawless land you have built.
“We’re going to the Maldives for our anniversary,” you inform her, even though there is no reason for her to know. She is not this ‘we’. 
She’s actually never been included in a ‘we’. 
“And the boys?” Jenni asks with interest. She’d prefer them to tag along. It being less romantic would make her feel better. 
“The boys are staying here.” You turn around and face the window as she rises from the crumpled sheets. The blinds part enough for you to catch glimpses of laughing figures chasing each other around the poolside, shouts sounding frantically from their nanny about watching their step. “You’ll visit them while I’m away, right? They really like you.” 
“I really like them.” You smile. It reaches your eyes and Jenni sees the reflection of it in the glass. Wishing her hands could frame you, she feels encouraged to continue. “I like anything of yours. I adore you.”
Your response is as closed as a fist, but your ribs flare open and your heart is on display, thumping and thumping, and Jenni knows that she is holding the key to a rusted lock. It’s neither shiny nor new, but it is the right one this time. 
Jenni guards the key in your absence but she is going to hand it back to you. 
She does visit the boys, driving over daily, rolling her eyes when the guards remind her that you are not yet done with your holiday and punctuating her sentences curtly. They ask her about Spain. Jenni finds herself explaining lesbianism too. 
She can’t help but associate Spain with people she’d rather not think about, but the boys strike her as perfect blends of you and your husband and she is very quickly forcing those thoughts into her mind. 
She books a flight and she goes home, ensuring there is an overlap with your holiday so that you are the one who has to do the welcoming when she returns. 
“You’re not really here for work, are you?” Alexia sees right through her, amused by Jenni’s foolishness. “I have a girlfriend, Jenni.” 
“I need to forget mine,” Jenni replies quietly. 
Her attempt is futile and her desperation wanes the moment her plane lands. 
She tried. 
She can’t escape from it though; from you. 
You are still falling in love with Jenni. Distance didn’t stop it like you thought it would. 
You tried. 
Your husband grows busier and leaves more often. 
There is more time to fall in love with Jenni, and it suffocates you like some brainwashing, poisonous gas. 
You search for a cure for your illness, but there is no cure for the absence of infirmity. 
Your plan to drive her away is to echo how traumatising Paris must have been, but sleeping with Jenni furiously is infuriating. It doesn’t work! 
It doesn’t last, and, like some tired soldier, your fire is blown out and only softer, sweeter, more merciful embers remain.
There is no fight left, but you are in denial. 
The battle is lost and won, yet the victor is unclear. Is it Jenni, who is clutched closer and asked to sleep over? Is it you, with a delicious ache in your muscles and steaming blood coursing through your veins? 
“Do you love me?” 
You pale at how obvious you must have become and you don’t know how to answer. 
Jenni decides that she doesn’t mind too much. 
229 notes · View notes
sugarushwriting · 20 days
Text
fratboy heeseung part 3 and he redeemed himself with you…a little too well
nsfw
not proof read
reblog, like, comment
do not repost or translate please
₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡
heeseung couldn’t help but watch you as you slept. in his bed.
it was a first, but the smile never faded.
it was currently 3 in the afternoon and you were still sleeping, being worn out from…earlier activities with him.
after he helped you to the bathroom, he brought you back to bed giving you 3 more orgasms. 2 by his tongue and fingers, 1 by his dick.
you literally tapped out telling him he’s redeemed himself. rightfully so.
his response? “i haven’t even had you against the kitchen counter yet. or in the shower. or in my car. or—,” he listed on and you legit groaned in anticipation at having him in so many positions.
“i thought you didn’t do seconds? let alone, thirds, fourths,”
“it’s different with you.” he stated with a shrug but didn’t offer a why or how.
a little after the third (technically 6th) orgasm, and you falling right to sleep, heeseung called jay.
jay, sunghoon, sunoo and jungwon all were out eating.
“what should i do to help a girl after i made her not able to walk?”
jay started choking on his wine, sunoo patting his back. heeseung chuckled. the phone was passed to sunghoon as sunoo tried to help jay.
“where is she?” sunghoon asked
“asleep on my bed.” heeseung replied, and sunghoon was shocked but didn’t answer to it.
“warm bath, with epson salt. pain reliever. heating pad maybe.” sunghoon listed helpfully.
“where would i get epson salt and a heating pad?”
“jay uses epson salt his knee pain sometimes. i have a heating pad i use for my shoulder sometimes.”
after the call, heeseung did promise the guys it was safe to come home. before he went back to staring at you, your phone rang and he saw it was your roommate and answered.
“jinnie! i thought you were meeting me and soph for lunch?”
“hey lara, this is heeseung. um, eunjin is kind of sleeping right now,” his neck started to redden, “i, we, um,”
“i don’t need the details.” lara stopped him mid sentence. “do i need to come get her?”
“no she’s okay. i will make sure she calls or texts you when she wakes up.”
“thanks! take care of my girl.”
after that, heeseung went on a hunt in his roommates belongings to find the heating pad and epson salt. since he had the master suite, he had a separate shower and bath that would be perfect.
just as he was in the kitchen preparing some water for you, the door opened and jake and ni-ki walked in all sweaty.
“i’m sorry.” was the first thing heeseung said. “i apologized to eunjin, and we made up. she’s no longer mad at me. i will never talk to her or any other girl that way like that ever.”
ni-ki nodded with a smile.
jake pointed, “what’s with the ibuprofen, heating pad, and epson salt?”
heeseung’s neck started to redden with embarrassment again. jake noticed and his eyes went wide.
“you—eunjin,” jake chuckled, “so that’s how you both made up.”
ni-ki was lost. “huh?”
jake patted the youngest back. “why don’t we go back to your dorm and play some games with kai.”
jake led ni-ki out of the house, and heeseung took the stuff up to his room. you were still laid out on your back, and he smiled at how you were positioned like you were the outline of tape of a dead body. you were draped in just his shirt.
while you slept, he ran a hot bath, prepared the ibuprofen by the bed and laid out the heating pad.
he didn’t want to wake you, but he did need to make sure you were okay. just as he did that, the door to the house opened and closed and he heard the voices of sunghoon and jay.
“pretty, wake up.” heeseung shook you, and you slapped him away with a frown.
“give me a few hours before next round.” you mumbled.
heeseung laughed. “pretty, no worries, i prepared something else good for you.”
your eyes fluttered opened and met heeseung’s with a smile, then you frowned and sat up quickly.
“shit! what time is it?” you panicked looking at your phone. running a hand through your hair, you looked stressed, “dammit, i told lara i would meet her for lunch around 2!”
heeseung smiled at your panicked face at how cute you looked, “no worries pretty, i let lara know you were just a bit tired and would call her back.”
you smiled shyly. “thank you.” but then you got worried. you slept. you slept in lee heeseung’s bed. how was he not mad at you right now? or maybe he’s just being nice until he kicks you out?
“pretty,” he captured your attention, “i ran you a hot bath. sunghoon said it should help with your soreness.”
oh now you were embarrassed and your face went red as you put your face in your hands. great now sunghoon, and probably the rest of his friends know how much he wrecked you.
but then your heart fluttered hearing he ran you a bath. “i also got some pain meds and water for you.” he held two pain meds in one hand with a cup of water in the other and handed them to you. “i need to check on the water, i will be back.”
so you took the meds while he went to his en-suite and quickly sent a text to lara
you: i will tell u dets later!
lara: at least u r alive! if u need me to i will come get u <3
you were so thankful for lara. you peeped the heating pad that sat on heeseung’s desk. heeseung came out from the bathroom and helped you get out of bed.
“how’re you doing?”
“still barely able to walk.” you said. you literally felt like ariana grande’s song side to side except you couldn’t even walk side to side! how in the heck were you going to walk to classes next week?
heeseung pick you up with ease walking you to the bathroom. “mind if i help?”
“i don’t think i’ll be able to get in if you don’t.”
heeseung helped you with the shirt you had on, and then lifted you into the awaiting hot water, which felt so good on your body.
“fuck that feels good.” you moaned, unaware of how it affected heeseung as his dick twitched in his pants.
not now, he scolded himself. he had you wrapped around his finger, he has time with you.
“i’ll let you soak. call out if you need anything. i’ll leave the bathroom door cracked, but my bedroom door open.”
“i won’t drown.” you teased. heeseung dropped a kiss on the top of your head, and then headed downstairs to see his friends.
jay was putting away food he and sunghoon brought back from lunch. jake had joined them.
“when did you get back?” heeseung asked jake.
“while ni-ki and i were on his way to his dorm, we ran into the guys, so ni-ki just went on with sunoo and jungwon.”
“i brought back some food for you and eunjin.” jay said holding up some sandwiches and chips.
“she must be starving.” jake said with a smirk. “you know, from the intense workout you two had.”
heeseung smirked back. “and she agreed that i’m the only one she can have that intense workout with.” heeseung was proud how he got you to agree he was the only one allowed to make you feel that way.
he was the only one allowed to make you come. not jake, not jay, not sunghoon, but him.
jake pouted, “aww man!” he complained, his thick accent shining through. heeseung knew jake was joking, but also knew there was a slight chance jake was actually upset.
jay laughed, “how are you going to steal my wife? i thought she and i were ni-ki’s parents!”
as the boys talked on, you made your way quietly and slowly down the steps. the bath helped, but just a bit. you could walk, but not with big strides.
when you reached the living room, the floor creaked and all four boys turned to you. all with knowing smiles.
your body heated up with embarrassment. how much did they know?
heeseung smiled, but it quickly turned into a frown, going unnoticed to you. you had on your jeans and shirt that you came in with. why were you dressed?
“pretty, why are you dressed?” heeseung asked.
“well, i didn’t want to come down naked.” you replied.
“i wouldn’t have minded.” jake smiled and jay smacked the back of his head.
you blushed at jake’s comment. “jake don’t say things like that!”
“you could’ve put on a shirt and boxers of mine.” heeseung replied. “actually no, go put on some clothes of mine.”
“oh.” you twirled your fingers. “i also thought maybe, um, you wanted me to leave, soon?” you pointed to the door. “i can call a cab, or have lara come get me.”
“no.” heeseung said.
“no?” you questioned back.
“i can still see you’re limping and sore. you need more rest.” he said. he was not just going to kick you out.
typically he would with other girls. but that’s because he didn’t care for the other girls like that. he’s never wrecked them so bad that they couldn’t walk straight immediately after.
“oh, ok,” you said and added, “i can sleep—,”
“in my bed. with me.” heeseung finished. “now go change into some clothes of mine.”
you and heeseung stared eye to eye.
“eunjin, are you hungry? we brought back food for you and heeseung.” jay brought up breaking the tension. “go change and then come down and eat!”
you did just so. heeseung turned to glare at jake. “paws off pretty boy.”
jake laughed. “i think that’s up to eunjin herself, don’t you think?” he asked with a smirk.
“like i said, eunjin and i are already in agreement on that” heeseung said back.
jay and sunghoon did not want to be in the middle of this interaction. luckily you came back down sooner than expected in black boxers and a black oversized shirt of heeseung’s.
“perfect.” heeseung smiled and patted his leg. “come sit and eat.”
you winced. “heeseung,”
“i’ll be gentle.” he laughed and you sat carefully down on his lap.
“again, what the fuck did you do to her?” jake asked noticing the slight discomfort on your face.
“just embedded my teeth marks in her ass.”
again, jay choked on a bottle of beer he was drinking. “man i gotta stop drinking something around you when you talk!” he complained wiping his chin.
you were extremely embarrassed but had no energy to turn around and slap heeseung.
jay put some food in front of you and heeseung.
“pretty, remember how i cornered you in the bathroom at the party? and regretfully said that you just hooked up with me to get to the other 3 guys in front of us right now?”
this time it was your turn to choke on the sandwich. “how do you remember that? i thought you were too plastered!”
heeseung had all the boys attention now, “remember how you said if you wanted an in with my brothers that you wouldn’t have fucked me first?”
oh shit. you knew where this was going. “heeseung—,”
“who eunjin?”
“what?”
“which one of the guys here would you have fucked since i wasn’t your first pick?”
you shook your head, you didn’t want to answer but heeseung placed a hand on your thigh giving a squeeze.
“answer please.” heeseung demanded. he leaned into your ear, “or else.”
you wanted to bury yourself in a cave. “uh,”
“which one? it seems you thought of it before.” heeseung was becoming impatient.
“you won’t hurt any of our feelings sweets.” jake said from across from you.
“my feelings are already hurt.” heeseung pouted and turned your head so you looked him in the eye.
you sighed. “jay.”
all boys eyes went wide.
“jay?” heeseung asked quietly.
“boring jay?” sunghoon added.
“why him?” jake also added, basically all boys speaking over one another except jay himself. he was smiling and celebrating.
“finally, a woman chose me first!” jay hand pumped the air.
“calm down lover boy,” heeseung said and turned your chin once more to him, “now pretty, what did you promise me today?” he asked.
oh he had the biggest smirk on his face. “i—i,”
“i’m pretty sure you promised if you wanted—,”
“i promised that you were the only one to fuck me!” you quickly replied, your words jamming together.
you knew you had to say that because heeseung sure enough was going to repeat, every single word said in his bed.
“exactly. now boys, fuck off.”
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
after eating with the boys, you all gathered to watch a movie in the living room. you made sure to let lara know you more than likely wouldn’t be coming back to the dorms.
jay sat in one of the individual chairs, jake in the other. you actually witnessed jay telling jake to sit in the other chair so he would ‘behave.’
you sat near the end of one side, so you could lay your head comfortably on the arm of the couch. heeseung sat beside you, moving your legs so they were draped over his, and sunghoon sat at the other end of the couch.
everyone had separate blankets except you and heeseung shared one giant one.
sometime during the beginning of the movie, your eyelids felt heavy and you dozed off. heeseung’s fingertips ghosted against the skin of your thighs and legs.
“you sure did suck every bit of energy from her, huh?” jake laughed.
sunghoon and jay turned their heads to look at your sleeping figure, then looked at heeseung with a chuckled each.
“just made sure that my tongue and dick was the only one she ever thought of.” heeseung smiled.
“ok, so you ruined other guys for her, now what? did she ruin other girls for you?” jake stated. “heeseung, you don’t do seconds, so of course all of us are shocked. not only that, you let her stay over, in your bed, and letting her stay longer. i mean not that we don’t mind.”
“we just don’t want her to get hurt. she’s really important to ni-ki and became important to us so quickly.” jay added.
“you don’t do relationships, you’ve said it plenty of times. and eunjin isn’t someone to casually do anything.” sunghoon ended.
heeseung sighed as the guys were right. he did want to ruin other guys for you. mainly ruin any chance of his frat brothers getting their hands on you. he wanted to prove himself to you and himself in bed.
and he did.
so now what?
was he supposed to stop sleeping with other girls just because? he—he didn’t think he wanted that. could he be with you and you only? maybe. but he’s always said he didn’t want to be tied down to one girl in college.
“why did she even have a crush on me?” heeseung asked no one in particular. but he looked at jay, thinking maybe sunoo told him.
heeseung thought correctly as jay sighed.
“from what i was told by sunoo who was told by eunjin herself, it was freshman year.”
“huh? that long?” jake said in shock. heeseung and sunghoon were shocked themselves.
“probably saw how handsome i was and fell in love at first sight.” heeseung laughed but jay shook his head.
“actually no, she told sunoo when she first met you, she thought you reminded her of a hamster, or maybe it was a deer?”
jake and sunghoon started laughing.
“her crush didn’t evolve from your looks, it was how you treated people when no one else was looking. it started with her, she had dropped her books while walking in the rain because her bag had broke. she was having the worst day, you had saw her as she kneeled to the ground and yelled profanities to the sky. you gave her your back pack with no word at all and walked off.” jay spoke.
heeseung could barely remember that interaction. it was like, 2 years ago?
jay continued, “she saw you a week later at the library, and she wanted to approach you to thank you as she recognized you. but she didn’t because some girl had pulled you behind some books for a make out session.”
jay rolled his eyes. “she then learned about your reputation from some friends of hers. she said she started to observe you more often, becoming hyper aware of your presence on campus. she wasn’t noticing your frat boy and fuck boy behavior. it was the little nice things. like smiling at birds, complimenting a girl who had just been told by a group of guys she was unlikable, things like that.”
heeseung took in jay’s words. “apparently she has an old journal of observations she made about different people.”
“she did say she was good at observing people and had her own perceptions of us.” sunghoon said.
“well damn, what did she observe about me?” jake wondered.
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
the next time you awoke was back in heeseung’s bed with his arm draped across your stomach. you saw a clock on his nightstand. 3:43 am.
you’ve slept saturday away. could one man really take that much energy from you.
you stretched your limbs and realized the soreness has went away. now do you leave? pretend to stay sore? sneak out?
you turned to look at heeseung’s sleeping figure. you didn’t want to hurt him, but you also wanted to protect yourself from heartbreak.
you knew his reputation, you got yourself into this knowing the crush would always be one sided. the feelings would be one sided.
you leaned in and kissed his lips, letting it linger. when you pulled away, you found him staring at you with a smile.
“well hello.” he stated and whew his morning voice literally had you wet….already.
“didn’t mean to wake you.” you giggled.
heeseung pulled you closer to his body. “it’s fine if you always wake me up like that.”
your heart fluttered. he cannot say things like that. he just can’t.
“let’s go back to sleep.” he sighed and kissed your forehead.
the next time heeseung awoke 3 hours later, you weren’t beside him. he sat up quickly looking around his room.
the bathroom was empty. maybe you went downstairs?
he rolled over to check the time on his phone when he saw a text message from you.
eunjin: this isn’t goodbye, but see you later. i need to think, heeseung. but thank you.
here you go again with the damn thank you.
you were literally driving this man insane.
₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡
106 notes · View notes
razzle-n-dazzle · 6 months
Note
Yandere Mammon. Do it (you don't have to if you don't want. I just saw you wanted mammon requests specifically and I felt called)
ᯓ★ "I LOVE you like an ALCOHOLIC" Yandere! Mammon / Reader | Drabble, (and some practice)
Tumblr media
‗ content / trigger warning: GLORIFYING YANDERE/OBESSIVE BEHAVIOR, dark romance, toxic relationship, not proof read (we die like Adam). hurt/comfort, mammon scaring the reader, threats of physical abuse, MAMMON APOLOGIZING???
‗ author's note: ngl, Mammon is like the worst rest flag you can have but also why is the bastard so loveable? I want someone to explain that to me.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
"MAYBE THERE WAS NO WAY OUT OF THIS; MAYBE THIS, WAS MEANT TO BE YOUR FATE."
"BABE!" Came the gruff voice, the loud voice, the ever so demanding voice that snarled your pet name as though it was the last thing it wanted to do; and you were sure that was the case, especially after he had to come case after you like this. Mammon was not much of a chaser for what was his, he simply expected it, you know that fact well; And now, with trembling hands covering your mouth as you tried to cover your sobs, hunched over in a corner of your bedroom trying to silence your sobbing, you thought you should have headed the warning. The warning to stay put, the warning to listen to him, to accept whatever he had to tell you. The warning to not go back to the lust ring. A foolish warning, you had thought first, but now knew why he was so stern on such a rule. He wanted to keep you from Ozzie, he wanted to keep you from Fizz, he wanted to keep you from the outside world if you weren't right by his side; If he couldn't monitor you and make sure you were "safe" and no one "dared tried to fuck you over". And sure those had been his words, the lies that he fed into your pretty brain once upon a time as his played with your hair, promising to always keep you safe. . . But you weren't so sure you could trust such words now.
You had only gone back home to speak with Ozzie, to catch up with him and share how your lives had been fairing since you left the Lust Ring. You had never told him why, granted, as he would have surely freaked out hearing that you left to be with Mammon of all people, and you were sure Fizzarolli would have hated your guts. So you had left under the guise of having met someone new, of testing the waters of living with them . . . and Ozzie had been happy with that response, though a bit uneasy upon your constant dancing around who your new lover could be. It's not like Ozzie would have burnt them to crisp, Fizz had joked, but you knew differently. Ozzie absolutely hated Mammon's guts after the clown pageants that Fizz was still recovering from. He would have scolded me relentlessly, though also in the end said he would be there if I ever needed anything if I was in trouble; Knowing how Mammon could get. You would have blown him off, saying Mammon was not that kind of person to you and it would be alright. That you loved him, that he loved you, and no it wasn't any sort of weird love potion or crystal and it wasn't forced. You had loved him, truly and fully and deeply and you still do. . . yet that love was slowly muddling with anxiety and hatred as you heard his spider legs tap against the floors of Ozzie's apartment, slyly getting closer to your bedroom. "Baabe," His 'a' was dragged out, his voice ever so sweeter, honeyed to convivence you to come out of the room without him having to use force. His hands pressed against the door, "I know you're in there sweetheart, just come on out and we can talk! I promise." Yet his words only caused you to shrink more into yourself, hiding your face away from the door on the most likely chance that Mammon would knock it down, forcing his way into your room. Into the one place that you still had felt safe in, safety which was now dwindling. My bedroom, well Ozzie's guest bedroom in the flat Fizz and him shared, was the one place you had thought to run too when Mammon hatched from his larva egg; Having grown in size and towered over you.
He had gotten upset as soon as he realized you had gone to the Lust Ring behind his back, accusing you of having cheated him and having cheated on him with Ozzie or even Fizz! Which was absurd, and you quickly tried to explain that Ozzie was simply like a brother to you and you would have never betrayed his trust by trying to get with him nor Fizz! You had simply gone had gone to catch up with Ozzie and Fizz and nothing more! You swore by it on your life, all while slowly shrinking away from Mammon in fear. Fear . . . Terror . . . Worry, Anxiety! You should never have to feel any of those things about Mammon, you should only feel secure around him and loved by him and likewise he should feel the same. Yet the way your heart pounded in your chest, the way your tears fell down your face, it was all too much and you knew this wasn't love. At least, it didn't feel like love but in a weird way it also did. He cared enough to come after you; He still stabbed any person who dared tried to get close to you; He just wanted to make sure you were okay! Right? Were you over reacting? Some part of you screamed no, shouting and pleading as the bangs on the door started to grow louder. You hadn't noticed them before they threatened to start breaking down the door, where their pounding brought nothing but a sickening feeling in your stomach that curled and churned and knotted inside you, wanting to be puked out and swallowed all the same. You help back a scream, hearing the last blow before the door was slammed open. It gave a devastating swing the wall, crashing against it and helplessly getting as stuck as you felt right now. Your breathing became ragged, your body trembled as your hesitated to look up and towards the crawling that was no other than Mammon, slithering his way towards you. Hide, Hit, Yell, Scream! But your body just froze as Mammon took a pause at the center of the room, and you weren't quiet sure why he did so yet you were too terrified to find out. You did your best to curl around yourself, to make yourself small and hide and hopefully avoid any sort of punishment that was to come from your small little mistake. Was it small? No it had to be a big one for Mammon to be acting like this, right? It's not like he's ever made you feel like this before, the rush of adrenaline you only get when faced with the possibility of death looming over you. Never. . . he's never. . . "Babe," Mammon's voice came out softer, less echoey and less demanding as it had been, though you still refused to look up. You barely heard the "shit" that Mammon had muttered from under his breath as he still stood in the center of the room, unsure what to do now that he finally got a good look of the state you were in. His top pair of hands subconsciously rubbed together, his right over the back side of his left palm; The actions he had taken replaying in his mind with a feeling of disgusting regret filling his stomach. This is now how he wanted this to go, not at all; He only wanted to give you a little scare, a small seed of terror, to show you how much he cared and yet . . . he caused this to happen. It was for the better no? . . . oh but he couldn't stand seeing you like this, in this state. You shouldn't be cowering away from him, no matter how fucking sexy it looked, you should be cowering away from others behind him! "Fuck, Babe I'm-" Mammon helplessly started once more as he extended his arms out, trying to gather some sort of explanation or reason or apology he could give to you. Yet his words fell flat, and everything he was going to say to you didn't feel right or it felt like some half-assed excuse or apology strung up by some lazy PR team just trying to sweep some incident under the rug like it had never happened. And Mammon was a bit lost on what do to. . . so then he did the only thing he could even fathom of doing to try and comfort you.
Slowly, evenly, he would make his way over to you, trying to make his footsteps rather loud and clear, yet paced and even to show you he was trying to think more rationally, more clearly. You still didn't look up and flinched at time from the steps. So then, he made it to you, and looked over your smaller figure next to his for a moment before he slowly sat down next to you. Silence; It was deafening to the ears. You were too afraid to speak. Mammon was too afraid of making the situation worse than it already was. What could he do in a situation like this? Pat your back?. . . actually that didn't sound like a half-bad idea, you always liked some sort of comfort through contact or PDA while around Mammon! And yet when he went to go do so, you only flinched away from him and drove yourself further against the wall, if that was even possible at this point, and Mammon lowered his hand back down with a frown.
Fuck you weren't ready yet for that. Okay! But he was sorry, he needed to show it to you and you couldn't be a whiney bitch about it either; He was trying to give this a shot! But then again wasn't there, like, boundaries he should respect?? This love thing was all too complex for Mammon, it hurt his brain trying to get everything right, and yet. . . it always felt rewarding whenever he had to by his side or sat upon his lap. It felt rewarding to even look in your direction and know he managed to snag someone like you, to get someone like you . . . someone so perfect . . . to love him back despite everything. It felt rewarding just to be in your presence, to be by you. It was an odd feeling that stirred Mammon's chest, it was an odd feeling he didn't know much about yet wanted to explore while he explored you. It was an odd feeling that delivered highs and lows that not even money could give him. It was an odd feeling only you can give him. . . And he hadn't realized he began to spew all this out to you; "-And that's why I got like, upset, Babe! I thought if you went back to the Lust Ring and feel in love with some fucking hot shot like Ozzie, or the fucking bastard ass clown Fizz, or some . . . GUY here that I would lose you!" He tried explaining the best he could, though his heart felt like it wanted to vomit. "I didn't want you going to some weird ass who could only give you half of what I can too! Babe, I'm fucking all you need and you're all I fucking need, and I didn't-. . . I shouldn't have-. . ." There was a pause in Mammon's words as his face scrunched, trying to find the correct way to phrase what he wanted to say. He barely noticed the fact that you had raised your face to look up at him, even if you were just peaking through your arms. "FUCK! I lost my train of thought." He would shout soon after, shaking his head as though he was disappointed in himself. So, instead, he would snake an arm around your waist and pull you upon his lap, even though he had felt you jump and jolt, trying to pull away from his touch.
And still, you sat ever so stiffly in his lap and yet. . . it felt right, for you both. It felt right for Mammon to have you on him, it felt like bliss, he was sure he could just jack off to this if he wasn't concerned about you! And . . . it oddly felt like home for you. Even still stiff and unsure about being this close to Mammon after what happened, you still leaned against him as you usually did. Fear and love, it was an odd combination that nestled itself into your heart whenever you now thought about Mammon. Yet, all the same, your heart and brain agreed he was home. "Babe, what I'm trying to fucking say is I'm s-" Mammon started, trying to apologize yet quickly felt sick to his stomach and gagged. The word felt so foreign and disgusting, he never had to 'apologize' before! And yet, when he glanced down at you and saw the small look of shock in your widened eyes, mixed with some sparkle of hope, he tried again . . . to only gag once more before he could choke out the sorry. And you were sure you both would be sitting here for eternity, and he would never be able to choke out a sorry. Even a pathetic one for your sake. It was just how Mammon was, for being the Sin of Greed he was ever so Prideful as well, and that always came at some sort of price. Yet, he was trying. . . that had to mean something, right? . . . it had to mean that he truly cared, somewhere deep inside that small heart of his, he cared; Truly cared. It was also amusing to watch him struggle. He never struggled often.
Tumblr media
Home | Masterlist tag list | @lily-ann-b
ᯓ★ All posts/fanfictions posted under this blog is owned by @razzle-n-dazzle. Please do not steal, copy, or plagiarize the works! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated.
172 notes · View notes
rottenr0ckets · 27 days
Text
https://www.tumblr.com/pyroy3/758317686261432320/compiling-additional-proof-against-wilbur-into?source=share
Debunking this post show casing "proof against wilbur"I will go into detail but first I must say most of this isn't proof it is word by mouth and just stories taken out of context or made out to sound malicious As I had referenced to in a previous post take this as a "tldr"As that's said let's begin
Important note that any response to this post that is aggressive, threatening, rude, immature, insulting, ect, will be blocked and ignored
1. Shebly shubble herself has gone back on her words and addmited to the biting being fully consented to. "I didn't consent to getting hurt" she did. She consented to the biting. After wilbur worked with her to get a safe word. If he worked to get a safe word it should of been made clear it would hurt. It never left bruises or cuts though. As you can see in pictures of her during that time there is none. It isn't easy to hide with makeup and if it broke skin as she said it would of gotten infected human mouths are full of bacteria and one bite breaking skin could cause serious infections (speaking as someone who used to violently bite themself) she agreed to the safe word and the biting with wilbur himself saying he had picture proof of it (not sharing out of respect for sheblys privacy which she didn't reciprocate obviously) she even sated she consented every time. So she did it many times knowing how hard he'd bite. "He ignored the safe word" no. He didn't. He only took a second to respond. Snap your fingers. That is a second. Maybe a bit more but never too much. With shebly admitting to not using the safe word properly and just instead screaming at him it's reasonable he'd take time or have a instinct reaction before letting go.
2. 3 reasons in two of them is not proof but relying on sheblys words. That is not proof. That is word by mouth. That is the reason people request proof (which shebly has been known to block people for asking) to use words as proof is to believe everything you see online which is by knowledge the #1 rule of the internet. People have their rights to belive by word of mouth or by proof. No one is obligated to trust her immediately. Not anyone. She has put a name to the person (said directly or not she had confirmed and put his name on the role of the abuser) which means no one is obligated to believe her. She has accused so there is permission to be skeptical as believing without proof can and has a long history of ruining innocent peoples lives. If everyone believed every accusation without proof we wouldn't have schlatt, will wood, tommy, tubbo, ranboo, philza, shebly herself ect All have long histories of being accused of things some lesser known than others. If we believed without proof when a name is connected to the accused it had been known to cause horrific things to happen to innocent people. Words aren't proof. History shows that. Her own actions show that. She's changed her story many times her words go against others stories and even her own.
3. The Disneyland video. Using how wilbur had stepped on tommys hand for untying his shoe as proof isn't really proof. "He never apologized" maybe not on camera. We never know what happens off camera. And even so he had done several other things in that video that could add up to an apology without words. Such as buying tommy all those candies to help his low blood sugar. As someone who used to have it that shit mean so fucking much I don't think many would understand. Also are we going to forget all the times tommy hit wilbur? How they play fight all the time how they laugh when they do it? Philza minecraft had witnessed it and played along treating them like as if they were rowdy brothers. Which is what their relationship is mainly about them being brotherly like genuine brothers. Philza conforming it saying they were like brothers off camrea as they were on maybe even a bit more. Do you think if it was wrong philza would stay so calm whenever they'd hit eachother? That they'd laugh and continue to hang out? Should we forget all the times tommy did equal stuff to wilbur that could be considered abusive by your standards if you feel this is proof of abuse? This goes along with your other yaps. Tommy hand begins *jokingly* bitten at a concert. It was a joke. And goes along with what I had said before. Now there was one you brought up that neither of us can speak on
https://youtu.be/Pcs3UcjKeXo?t=2111
Tumblr media Tumblr media
4. Technoblade apple incident. In personal belief. Neither of each side can use this as proof. Not you not I not anyone. This includes a dead man. Someone who can't speak on this. Someone who can't share their side. Someone who should be left to rest and not have his name dragged into a story that doesn't involve him. We weren't there. You weren't there. No one but wilbur and technoblade were there. It is a story wilbur shared in memory of him. A silly light hearted story about an accident that had happened. He showed remorse, regret and showed himself to admire how well technoblade had handled it. He explained it was an accident. He didn't mean to hit his shoulder. No one else was there. So no one but him can confirm it. He used that story to tell on how strong technoblade was how he looked up to him. There is no sign of abuse. No one can confirm or deny it. The other is dead. And the one who told the story is the accused. We may never know if it truly was meant to have ill intent or not. You can read his mind you can't pull apart his words to figure out some.secret thing about him being abusive or not. There's nothing. Don't drag techno into this. Let the man rest.
5. Song lyrics. Now with these this is tricky. He had confirmed he does this thing where he switches the pronouns referring to himself as "she" or the the girl in the song and sings through the pov of the other person pretending it to be him. He's done this with his song Warsaw. So with his others songs he hasn't confirmed he does this it's up for debate. And if we're to use his songs as evidence against him. What about msr. It came out after his rs with shebly and has lyrics that oddly fit her. From her personality to complaints she made about him. If you were to argue his lyrics could reference him being abusive what about msr that closely resembles shebly and talks about wilbur being harmed phycally and emotionally several lyrics hitting at him being physically harmed by his partner. What about how most songs that came out after their rs have themes of wilbur being harmed a lot more recent ones talking about physical abuse in some parts.
Lyrics for example;
Trying not to think abiut it: "Never been the one for romance
Never thought that I'd get married
Never been the kind to give a shared life a second glance
Selfish prose, a lifestyle of a stained-glass window"
The median: "Please don't ask what these words mean
Just please don't misinterpret me"
Amazon standing lamp: "hit me now before it gets to cute, don't make me beg in this hotel room"
Mine/yours: "you never liked me when drunk I'm starting to believe you never liked me at all"
"I stand just outside the reach of your fists And take myself away, a gangrenous limb And dance around the subject, a figure of eight Describe all the parts of me I'm yet to break Count all the parts of me I'm yet to break"
The list goes on. As well as more and more of their recent songs more more seemingly reflecting shebly and describing her. Just as you did. I used lyrics and songs to make theories. Is this proof? Or is it just an idea and rambling. Take mine as just that then you go back on your own word of providing proof. There is no proof. Only ideas and theories. To use lyrics of older songs most from before he dated shebly is to be just as valid as using songs from after their break up
6. Saying he doesn't know what his songs were about. He does. He wrote them. He's told us the meaning of them before. In the genius interview he was high. Obviously not sober😭😭😭 idk what else to say on this really he was just high he is a known weed smoker and had smoked before the interview most likely to calm his nerves since he's made it very clear is anxiety causes him lots of.issues and is the reason why he even took his mental health break in the first place.
7. "Pretty privilege" this is one I've heard people use a lot along with "he's white!" "He's cis!" "He's a man!!" That's means nothing. Most wss addmit to having used to support shebly before given a reason not to. We supported shebly until given reason to doubt her. She has holes in her story. History of lying not just with relationships but also her whole merch fall out that caused many issues and showed her to be not so innocent. There is no pretty privilege. Most people turned to support shebly there is no minority of supporting shebly wss don't support wilbur because he's pretty or white it's because they have reason be it proof, holes in stories, ect. Is shebly herself not pretty? Is she not at considerably a higher beauty standard than wilbur? People go based off proof not appearance. Wilbur being a man means nothing. Are men not able to be abused? It is always women being the damsels in distress and not the abuser? To go into this would go into deeper topic I wish not to yet cover in this since it much more severe. But pretty has nothing to do with this. It's proof. Shebly has said she has no proof wilbur has said he has proof shebly has gone on her word wilbur as referred to it as allegations that "deeply shocked him". Do not begin with pretty privilege because I can assure you it's not that.
8. "He only targeted women smaller than him so he could pin them down." That's uhm.. well first off shebly is a body builder and does weights and wilbur looks like a starving Victorian child. Also most women are smaller than him he's above the average height women are naturally shorter than men to so idk what is going on in that. That's just a wild thing to say.
9. I will be grouping Alice, minx and Nikki together in this. Minx, her story was saying how when they got drunk together she tried to do something nice yes but it triggered him and he screamed at her. He was drunk to the point he was throwing up. It's not a surprised it would be something small like that to trigger him and even after she even said he apologized profusely to her and she still left. Minx is not one to be trusted since she can't even beat her own allegations against her for abuse and racism. She's known to lie and put herself in others stories and just be a horrible person. Nikki, Nikki was the one to instigate their friendship having gone on a TV dating show to talk to wilbur. She was the one that started every interaction. Wilbur had no problem distancing himself from her when shipping made them uncomfortable, she was the one to mention him without being forced to she was the one who had his stickers she was the one who showed herself as a fan in moments where she didn't need to..she never once showed no signs of being afraid of him and in fact only ever trying to instigate a friendship. Alice. I could say a lot about her. From her story conflicting with sheblys, to times not adding up to picurte proof of her lying about things. It's a lot to say on her.
Here's a link proving debunking alice with evidence:
https://x.com/UltraViole74456/status/1767408802465243341
With that. There is no proof in this post, just opinions and theories. Thank you for reading. Avoid putting false proof in posts about serious matters. Options and theroies do not count as proof. What does count as proof is pictures, screenshots, videos, audio recordings, official documents, posts of addition, anything that shows abuse without having to make theories, or that isn't affected by personal beliefs and shows the actions. I apologize for any grammar mistakes I might have made writing this.
69 notes · View notes
gisele0127 · 1 year
Note
Can you do some blue lock scenario with a reader who very much needs glasses? Like reader is straight up walking in to poles, bumping into tables, squinting to read to tweets. They actually never took a drivers test because they couldn’t read road signs or the handbook for that matter🙄 The reader just lives life like this just cause. Like there is no reason for them to just not fail their eye test and get some glasses.
Blue lock boys: Rin, Sae, Barou, Kaiser, Yukimiya(💀), and anyone else you want to write for!!
notes: not proof read!! enjoy :)) THANKS FOR 700 FOLLOWERS GUYS, i’ll promise to feed y’all good when i get back home.🥹🥹
Tumblr media
rin
after walking into another pole while you and him were walking down the street from his football practice he finally had enough.
“get some glasses or im breaking up with you”
you look up at him (all you can see is a blurry glob) confused because why would he say that?
“why’re you being mean? i don’t need glasses i’m fine.”
rin secretly liked that you were stubborn, but right now he’s more concerned. you kept on running into things, needed help with homework and schoolwork because you couldn’t see the board, and bumping into tables and such.
he flicks your forehead (specifically where there was a slight bruise forming), “i don’t like how you’re always running into things. it’s not safe.”
he tries to act nonchalant and like he doesn’t care, but deep down inside he’s afraid something bad will happen to you. he just wants you to be safe.
sae
“i don’t understand why you can’t just get glasses!”
it was the first time sae had ever raised his voice to you, or really in general around you. so what got him to this point? you two had just came back from the hospital because you fractured you ankle from tripping. sae had been getting annoyed by your carefreeness and this was the last thing he needed.
you look at him hurt by his tone, you’ve never seen the stoic man like this. you’re surprised he would even raise his voice at something like this.
he looks at you as if he’s done nothing wrong, keeping the same deadpan he always does. you roll your eyes and (try to) walk away until sae grabs your arm pulling you into his lap,
“don’t walk on your foot, you’re going to get even more hurt. and i said that because i don’t want you getting hurt again. what if i’m not there to save you?”
barou
he walks in the door after a tiring practice to some soup cooking in the kitchen. he smiles knowing you made it, and he grabs a spoon to get just a little taste while you arent looking. little does he know you accidentally put too much salt. spitting it out he says,
“holy fuck y/n. are you trying to give me a heart attack?!” he laughs after.
you look at him embarrassed because you tried to do something nice for him and it went terribly wrong.
he smiles looking at you and tenderly kissing your temple, “after my shower i’ll help you cook how does that sound?”
he sometimes finds your vision problems difficult but he never gets mad at you, he’s just a peace with your decisions to not get glasses. he never gets you for it :)
kaiser
“i set up an eye doctor appointment for you at 12:30 on tuesday by the way. it’s rest day so i’ll be able to drive you” he looks up at you while laying on your chest.
you stop playing with his hair and look confused. “what? why?”
“well love….how do i put this? i’m not your personal driver….and i’m tired of you being so stubborn” he says grinning while motioning for you to continue playing with his hair.
you roll your eyes and continue playing with his hair, you start thinking and you do feel kind of bad that your boyfriend has to drive you everywhere. sure he may be arrogant and cocky, but in reality he’s a lovesick man who only wants the best for you.
yukimiya
(if an ything the roles should be reversed💀)
“do you think our kid is going to be blind?” you innocently ask him one day while studying (mostly him telling you what the class is learning). he’s taken aback but composes himself and gives you a gentle smile.
“maybe.”
it’s a short and sweet answer, but he’s mostly thinking about he fact that you said ‘our kid’. this a sweet moment because you usually never say stuff like this. he gets up from his chair and motions you to come on the couch with him,
“but our child will definitely be wearing glasses, unlike you”. he says while sticking his tongue out.
notes part two: i’m sorry this took so long, i’ve been busy traveling all over! i hope it’s to your liking :) @crybabyyams thank you so muchh:))
757 notes · View notes