#so seeing someone do this and start to waver | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gojonanami · 5 months

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❝ 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ❞

❝ PROF GETO BROKE YOUR HEART & NOW YUTA IS HOT ?? ❞

✧ pairing: prof!suguru geto x f!reader (& grad student! yuta x f!reader)

✧ summary: after suguru leaves you broken hearted, yuta's there for you when you're putting your heart back together, and he's not sure when or if he even wants you to tell you how you feel. but what happens when you start to realize your feelings?

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut , fluff, angst, depictions of student/teacher relationship (only ok in fiction not irl!!!), reader and yuta are grad students, but age is vague, dealing with a breakup, fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, amateur's take on moral philsophy and ethics, art by @ / polariae (who is incredible and everyone should go follow them now!!)

✧ wc: 12,464

Yuta felt as if he was always running late — for everything.

He had transferred into this university a year into his schooling, he was always running late to meetings, and he was too late when he fell for you.

But he seemed to have good timing in this moment — as he ran into you, as why was it he could always find you effortlessly without trying, but there was no smile on your lips when you met his gaze, but only tears — if only so he could comfort you.

He says your name, as he stops you gently, fingers brushing against your shoulders, as your gaze falls to the ground, “What happened? Are you—”

“Yuta, I’m sorry, I have to go—” but he stops you for a moment.

“If you don’t want to talk to me, that’s completely fine, but can I call someone?” he says gently, he could see the tears slipping off your cheeks, even as you attempted to wipe them away, “I don’t think you should be alone—”

And then you’re hugging him, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I shouldn’t—but I—”

His arms go around you gently, “It’s okay, don’t apologize, I’m here for you,” and he doesn’t know what else to do but stand there with you, as curious gazes of passersby watched the two of you, “come on, let’s go somewhere more private.”

~~~

When had he fallen for you? It was hard to say, but apparently easy to see.

“So did you tell her you like her?” And Yuta nearly spits his drink out when Maki asks him that after one of the student government meetings. She sipped at the can of black coffee, nonchalantly, her eyebrows raised at his sputtering. He wipes his mouth, a slight glare in his gaze, “based on that reaction, I would say no,”

“What are you talking—“ and your name leaves Maki’s lips, and his cheeks flush, ears burning, as he presses his knuckles to his lips, unable to meet her gaze, “was it that obvious?”

“To a person with eyes,” and his gaze snaps to her, a question on his lips, “no, she doesn’t know,”

Yuta slumps back in the chair he was sitting in, as he sets his drink down on the round table, “how can I tell her? She has a boyfriend,”

“One that she doesn’t even see that often,” Maki leans back in her chair, “I’ll give you some unsolicited advice, Yuta — if you keep having these feelings and don’t do anything about it, you’ll regret it,”

But how could he do anything when he already knew you were struggling? It wasn’t enough that your boyfriend was far away, but he didn’t seem to make time to come see you — even on your birthday — but to push his feelings on you on top of that. It wasn’t fair.

So he had to settle on being your friend, just your friend.

“What happened?” He asks again when the two of you get to a secluded corner of campus, a bench far enough away, as you sniffled, wiping your tears and murmuring apologies, “you don’t have to talk about it—“

And you shake your head, “My boyfriend, he, uh, broke up with me,” and he stares at you — your voice wavering as you speak, “I just, didn’t expect that to, you know—“

Yuta tilts his head, speaking softly, “Why don’t I take you back to your apartment?”

So he does, taking the quick metro ride there, as your fingers brush his as the two of you walk beside each other. The silence hangs as comfortably as it can, your eyes straight ahead, as he sneaks glances at you. He wants nothing more than to take your hand, to tell you it would be okay, but he couldn’t — he didn’t want to overstep. It had already been hard enough to contain his feelings when you were with someone — and now that you weren’t — he wanted nothing more than to love you as you deserved to be loved.

But it wasn’t his love you wanted — and it wasn’t what you needed either.

You needed a friend, not a lover, more than ever.

“Thank you for bringing me home, Yuta,” you mumble, shaking your head, “I’m sorry, I’m such a mess — I’m not being—“

“You don’t have to be anything, you’re fine,” he says softly, as you fumble with your keys, “do you want company?”

You give a terse chuckle, as you unlock the door, “I’m not the best company right now, Yuta,”

And he could have told you that you were the company he always wanted, the company he never would say no to — good or bad — but he couldn’t. So he said something else.

“Then I guess I’ll have to make up for it by being very good company,” and you give a watery laugh, shaking your head, as you hesitate, glancing over your shoulder.

“Are you sure?” And he only steps past you into your apartment, as he smiles.

“Come on, I’ll order us dinner and you can put on an…interesting movie again,” and your lips quirk up as you step past him into the apartment.

He couldn’t be more than a friend — not now — but maybe at some point. But he would be happy to just be in your life.

That was enough.

~~~

He wasn’t enough, Suguru sat in the train, the sun long set on Tokyo as he watched the city fade into the distance — as he leaned his face against the glass of the window. He had taken a late train back to Kyoto — one of the last — he could have taken an earlier one, but he had lost track of time.

How long did he stand there?

It felt like hours — minutes had ticked by as such, but he knew it was long enough for him to miss several trains by the time he had left for the station. It was long enough that he saw you disappear in the distance, Yuta assumedly in tow.

It was right — it was what was necessary. That’s what he told himself as he watched the scenery move past him in seconds, but it felt as if time had stood still. He could hear the soft snores and quiet murmuring of the sparse passengers among the train, the footsteps of others as they walked up and down the aisle, and the steady shudder of the train as it ran along to its destination. But still, it felt as if he was still trapped behind glass in that moment, he watched himself drop your heart, watched it shatter beneath his feet, and he didn’t go after you.

Why didn’t go after you?

He asked himself again and again — but the only answer amongst the buzzing white noise that had only served to numb his mind to the pain was that it was necessary.

He had always known you had a bright future — you could anywhere, lecture overseas, do fellowships or a Phd program, or even become a professor elsewhere. But when he had spoke to Yaga, it had solidified in his mind even more so — he wasn’t giving you what you needed and he was holding you back while he was at it.

And the worse part was he knew you would never blame him — not for a minute. You would try to make it work. Long distance, giving opportunities up, or even choosing him over yourself. And he couldn’t abide letting you give up what you wanted for him — even if it wasn’t what you would have chosen. Because he knew you would always choose him.

So he had to be the one to choose you.

He needed to leave you behind, just as he had left Tokyo. He had made his choice, and now he had to live with it — and live without you.

It was necessary. It was right — he shut his eyes, leaning against the window beside his seat, tears burning at the corners, as a tear rolled past hidden behind his hand — so why did it feel so wrong to be without you?

~~~

You didn’t want to wake up.

You pulled the comforter over your head, finding refuge underneath the plush duvet, and wondering if it was possible to stay under here long enough for your problems to disappear. But you knew the pain would remain, but even so, you sought the sweet escape of sleep — if only for a few hours, you didn’t have to feel this heartache, you didn’t have to remember this.

You didn’t have to remember him.

And then there’s a knock on your door, a persistent knock that draws you from the arms of your only oasis under your sheets, and you drag yourself from bed, your eyes aching from your tears from last night.

Fuck, you rubbed at your eyes. You glanced at the couch, finding no one there — when did Yuta leave last night? You couldn’t remember — and you’re dead on your feet as you find your way to the door, opening it without a thought.

And your breath caught.

“Suguru?” you stared, as he stood in front of you, bouquet of flowers in hand. You stumbled over your words as gracefully as you had gotten out of bed, as his arms wrapped around you. You stood motionless for a moment before melting into his touch, tears burning at your eyes yet again, “what are you doing here? Why—“

“What do you mean?” he murmurs, running his fingers through his hair, “you know I can’t stand to spend more than a few hours away from you,” and you’re burying your face in his chest, biting back the urge to sob then and there.

You kept your tone as even as you can manage as you pull away, “Suguru, you said—“

“I know I’m early, but we can just spend some time together before we head out—“

And you’re shaking your head, “Head out where?”

He furrows his brow in confusion, a chuckle escaping his lips, “Did you forget? You’re the one who insisted that we should be early — you kept saying we couldn’t be late,”

“To what?”

“Our engagement party,” he takes your hand gently intertwining your fingers to show you the ring you wore — and you’re staring at it, as he presses sweet kisses to each of your knuckles, “now shouldn’t you get ready? Or are you the one who’ll make us late?”

“Suguru—“ and his lips find yours in a gentle kiss, warmth blooming from his touch alone, your fingers finding purchase on his shoulder. For a second, it’s real and it’s right — Suguru has found his way back to you.

Right?

And his lips part from yours, his fingers brushing your cheek, “I love you,” he murmurs, saying your name again and again and—

A hand brushes your shoulder and you jolt awake, your hand slapping whatever had touched you away, as your fingers grasped at your comforter. You blinked, as your breath slowed, and you had found yourself in bed—

Again.

And another mutter of your name snaps your gaze up to find Yuta standing a foot from your bedside now, his brow wrinkled, holding his hand in the other—

Fuck.

“Oh my god, Yuta, I’m sorry — I was having a—“ you cut off a moment, you didn’t know whether to call it a dream or a nightmare, “just, I’m sorry,” you cover your face with your hands, “I barely remember getting into bed last night,”

He waves you off, “It’s ok, I know you had a rough night,” he offers a small smile, “I had to help you into bed — you were a little out of it, so I just stayed on the couch,”

You groan, wishing you could burrow into the Earth and never emerge, “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again—I’m sorry I made you stay—“

“You don’t have to apologize,” he says softly, “I’m your friend — I’m here for you,” and you swallow, tears burning at your eyes again, “s-sorry, did I?”

And you shake your head before slipping out of bed and hugging him, “Thank you, Yuta, really,” and he wrapped his arms around you tentatively, “I think you’re my best friend,”

You were so lucky to have him — especially when you needed someone the most.

“Of course,” he murmured, and you didn’t not know his heart was aching ever so slightly, “you’re mine too.”

~~~

“Do you want to talk about what happened with…your boyfriend?” Yuta knew the only way you would be able to heal is by talking about it — and that’s the one thing you had avoided doing all weekend. Sure you talked — but about the movies you were watching, about classes, about anything — then what had happened.

You hadn’t brought it up since that morning, you had washed up and it was as if he had imagined what had happened. You made breakfast, you put on a movie, and you joked about his allegedly questionable restaurant choices. But not a word about your dream or about your breakup.

But he knew he had to ask.

You were just coming off laughing at something that had happened in the rom-com you had switched on, and your lips fell into a seamless frown, as if the facade of happiness melted off with his words.

Your gaze falls, arms tightening around the cushion in your lap, a bitter chuckle falling from your lips, “does anyone ever want to talk about their breakup?”

He furrows his brow, “Bottling it up won’t help you heal from it — the only way is to let it out, and I can’t tell you what to do but—“ he bites his bottom lip, your eyes never lifting to meet his, “I know you need to let it out, one way or another,”

You pause a moment, as you press your face against the cushion, “It hurts too much, Yu, I don’t know if I can,”

“It doesn’t have to be now, I just want you to—“

“We were long distance,” and he’s opening his mouth to cut you off, but you shake your head, “you’re right — if I don’t talk about it now, I never will,”

So you told him. Told him how you both had gotten together right before your boyfriend had received a job offer that required him to move, how the two of you decided to date regardless, and how you continued to be long distance even after he started.

“It just got harder to see each other, and he ran late on my birthday but I didn’t care—“ and Yuta tilts his head, “I mean, I did care — but I knew it was temporary. I was going to graduate and move to be with him—“ and your nails dig into the soft fabric of the cushion, “but it didn’t matter. He thought it was for the best — for my best interest — that we break up,”

He furrows his brow. This, the crying and heartache, was for your best interest? “Why—“

“Because he thought I was limiting my options, that he wasn’t a good enough boyfriend — one that I deserved,” you shake your head, tossing the cushion aside on the couch, “but he didn’t understand — I just wanted him—I knew it would be different when we were together—“ your voice breaks, “but he didn’t want to wait.”

Yuta lets you talk and lets you rant and cry — until you’re asleep after lunch, taking a nap on the couch beside him. And he wonders if this is helping, but at least you’re sleeping now — he spotted the bags under your eyes when he saw you wake in the morning — as if you had spent the entire night tossing and turning.

Was this okay for him? He wasn’t expecting anything — aside from your friendship. He didn’t think you were going to wake up and fall in love only because he did what a friend should do. But was it okay for him to be here?

Because he couldn’t quash the little bit of hope that inched its way into the crevice of his heart that maybe you’d heal from this — maybe you would be able to get over this and you’d see him, as more than a friend or a best friend. He wanted to think he would do this even if he didn’t have feelings for you — it would probably be easier if he didn’t.

But the facts stand that his motivation was corrupt — he chuckled, fuck, even the philosophy you had dosed him with, during your meals and student government meetings, was infecting his mind. Motivation mattered — because if you know or expect a reward from doing something, no matter how hard you try, your motivation will always be just that,

And his eyes slide to you — fast asleep as he grabs the throw blanket on your couch and gently places it over you — but he wouldn’t mind being corrupt, if it meant he could stay with you.

~~~

“She broke up with her boyfriend?” Maki raises an eyebrow, placing her drink down, “and you still haven’t told her?” Maki’s judgment pierced through Yuta, even as he couldn’t quite meet her gaze, biting his lip, “what are you waiting for? For her to get back together with him?”

“Maki, I can’t make a move so soon—she’s vulnerable—“

She sighs, leaning back, as she crosses her arms, “Well, you’re a good guy for that, but you need to do something, even if it’s not confessing. You should try spending more time with her, encourage her to open up more—“

“I don’t know — I don’t want to overstep—“

“Yuta,” Maki cuts him off, “you’re a good guy and you deserve to be happy — you spend a lot of time worrying about other people, and not enough time thinking about yourself. If she’s not ready right now that’s fine, but she might not realize she’s ready until someone helps her to,” she tilts her head, her fingers beginning to toy with the straw of her drink, “I just don’t want to see you regret hesitating,”

Yuta’s phone went off — your name flashing on the screen, hey, are you free to hang out and watch a movie tonight? Finally finished working on my thesis proposal for the night!

Maki glances at his phone, raising an eyebrow, “just don’t wait too long, “or you may end up alone, either way.”

~~~

“I told you we should have gotten dumplings tonight,” you grumble, as the two of you take your takeout back to your apartment, the sun beginning to dip below the horizon, “I can’t believe the sushi place was closed,” you pout.

And Yuta bites back a smile — his cheeks burn — god, you’re so cute. It wasn’t fair. He knew you were just mostly teasing — only so you could have the pick of the movie tonight — which you knew he’d give you anyway.

The two of you had settled into these weekly movie nights on Fridays, which had a 70% chance of devolving into a weekend of hangouts amidst work for your programs. It had been weeks since your breakup — and your sadness seemed to ebb with each passing day, normalcy seemingly returning.

“We could have gone there—“ and you give a long, over dramatic sigh, shaking your head.

“It’s fine, but if this food sucks, I will be holding this over your head,” you bump him with your shoulder, a smile on Yuta’s lips, and right then someone calls out Yuta’s name. The two of you glance back, and Yuta blinks as he spots his friends.

“Toge, Panda,” Yuta greets them, Toge’s hands raise as he begins to sign—

Hey, who’s your friend?

Yuta replies, before gesturing to you, introducing you by name, “we’re just headed back to watch a movie—“ and he points from the shorter one to the taller one, “this is Toge and Panda,” Panda flashes a knowing smile, adjusting his leather jacket, head tilting as he gives you a small once over. Toge’s lips are covered with his face mask, his dyed silver hair brushing against his forehead —

Panda grins between the two of you, “Ah it’s good to meet you — I heard about you from Yuta, and Maki," he adds, while Yuta shoots him a look that he hopes that you don’t notice, “how’s the work in student government? I hope Maki isn’t working you too hard,” but you seem oblivious to it, only smiling between the two of them.

“No it hasn’t been bad, and Yuta has made it really easy. He’s been a really big help—“ and Panda before leaning over to whisper in Yuta’s ear.

“You have a chance with her, don’t mess it up,” Panda’s elbowing him, before clapping him on the back, his arm slinking around his shoulders, while Yuta tries to will his blush to leave his cheeks, “well we should let them get going, right, Toge?” and Toge nods, and Yuta only knows Toge has a smile hidden under his mask as well, flashing a thumbs up out of your line of sight, while you glance between Yuta and Panda, “you two love birds have fun!”

And Yuta stammered, “We’re not together like that,” he’s shooting a glare at Panda’s back as the two of them walk off, waving. And his eyes snuck a glance at you, but you seemed unfazed, only tilting your head — and shit, his head was spinning, heart doing its best to exit via his chest by banging against his ribs. Did you know? Was it obvious? Was this it?

“I didn’t know you knew sign language,”

And apparently it wasn’t.

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I learned when I met Toge in high school,” he offers a forced smile — but relief isn’t the only thing that floods his system, disappointment comes in waves — because again, here he was, right back at the start.

The two of you continued to chat on the walk back to your apartment, his fingers curled tightly around the handles of the takeout bag as you pulled out your keys, wondering how many more times would he do this — how many more times would he think you realized his feelings only for it to remain unspoken? He was more than okay to stay your friend, but — he watched you open the door to your apartment — would he regret not taking a shot at being something more?

And as you glanced back at him, a smile on your lips, he knew he would.

~~~

You didn’t think it would — but it had gotten easier, easier to be without Suguru.

There were days you still had woken up crying, there were other days you had almost forgotten.

Almost.

But now in hindsight, adjusting to life without Suguru hadn’t been much different than being with him the last few months. Not when the two of you had barely seen each other. You had put away his things, tucked away the memories, and picked up the scattered parts of your life —even though you couldn’t find the piece he had taken with him.

But even so, you had finally felt as if you boarded up the love the two of you had built, one that he had set on fire and burnt the insides to nothing but ash and smoke — the same fire that had you coughing up the broken pieces of your heart — throat burning with his name on the tip of your tongue.

Even so — your fingers found the dragon pendant under your shirt, some things were harder to let go than others.

But it shouldn’t be hard, right? Love shouldn’t present so many obstacles — it should be simple, easy — not difficult and tenuous. And that’s all your relationship had been — only due to circumstance, but sometimes that was enough.

And in your case, it had been too much.

But you knew you couldn’t have made it through without Yuta. Your eyes slide to him, his face illuminated only by the glow of the TV — lights turned off for the best movie night experience. Or at least not as quickly as you did. He was leaning back against the couch, his head leaning towards your side.

You bite your lip. Your mind wanders to what Panda had said — love birds — it hadn’t been the first time someone had commented on the two of you together. How many of your friends had made some comments about Yuta, even the ones in student government (Maki in particular had been dropping not so subtle hints)? How many of them had you brushed off without a second thought?

But now — ever so conscious of his weight beside you on the couch, of every twitch of his fingers, shift of his limbs — you had second thoughts.

You had tried your best to play off Panda’s comment, and Yuta did the same, the two of you had grown used to dancing around this topic. And before you hadn’t thought of Yuta that way in the slightest— not with everything going on — not with your mind still full of Suguru.

But now…His eyes softly lit by the bouncing lights of the movie, until they found yours, and somehow growing even softer, as his lips curled.

“Need something?” When was it that Yuta could make your heart flutter with only a smile? He was a friend — right? Just a friend, but now—

He leans over, your heart squeezing as he does — your eyes nearly fluttering shut, his hand brushing your cheek, only for the barest of touches. And your cheeks burned in the dim light of the TV.

“You had something on your cheek,” he explains, and you nod, biting your lip — as you snap your gaze away, and a small chuckle on his lips, “What is it?”

What was it about him now? His smile was just a smile, his eyes were just eyes, and his presence was only comfort. And now — his smile made your stomach bloom with butterflies, his eyes were depths you wished to swim in, and his presence gave you comfort but in the loneliest of ways — the gap between you both a cliff you stared down, unable to jump.

So you shake your head instead, “It’s nothing,” you smile as you press your knuckles to your lips.

Maybe your head was full of someone else for once.

~~~

“Do you want to grab dinner tonight?” You ask Yuta — a routine for most other weeknights, as you grabbed your bag, as you wait for him outside the conference room as the student government meeting ended for another week, “I heard this new restaurant opened up near my apartment, and we could hang out at my place after—“

“I—“

“Yuta?” A cute girl comes up to Yuta, and he smiles as he greets her, she pulls Yuta aside, as he chats with her just out of earshot, her hand grazing his shoulder.

And your stomach turns, a twinge in your heart as you watch the two — you don’t remember Yuta mentioning her, but then again, Yuta rarely talked about himself, even when you asked. It was like pulling teeth — and now here he was. Now, he was smiling at a girl you knew nothing about.

What was this feeling? You shifted from foot to foot, restlessness settling over your body as you purse your lips as if to prevent unnecessary words from spilling from your lips. Why did you feel so...helpless? Your arms crossed over your chest as if that would hold you together — keep your heart from falling back into the pieces you had meticulously put back together.

Oh.

You watched them talk, as the girl finally seemingly said her goodbye and flashed a small smile your way before disappearing down the hallway.

“Sorry,” Yuta walks back over, a smile on his lips, but you knew that smile wasn’t for you. Not like before, “yeah let’s grab dinner,”

And you weren’t the same either—

“You have nothing to apologize for,” you force your lips to curl, as you walk past him, “let’s go,”

—because you were jealous.

~~~

“Yuta, have you thought about dating?'' Your question comes seemingly out of nowhere one night, right after midterms, and Yuta has to stop himself from spitting out the sip of his tea he had taken, forcing himself to swallow. It doesn’t go unnoticed by you, your eyebrow raising, “you good?”

“Y-yeah sorry,” he clears his throat, hoping his cheeks weren’t flushed red from that, “why do you ask?”

“I was just curious because we’ve talked a lot about my dating life, but nothing about yours,” it was late, or rather early—nearly 3 AM on a Saturday night, the two of you were half asleep on the couch, stuck in a stubborn battle of not wanting to sleep quite yet, “you don’t talk a lot about yourself,”

“There’s not much to say,” he shrugs, and your raised brow tells him you’re not satisfied with his reply, he relents with a sigh, “there was a girl I liked when I was a kid — Rika, we met when I was in the hospital,” and your lips twist into a frown, “I was sick a lot when I was little, and that’s when I met Rika. She lived with her grandparents — her parents both had passed when she was even younger. We were inseparable—“ he gives a soft chuckle, “but then she…” his voice wavers.

“You don’t have to—“ and he’s shaking his head.

“We were playing and she went into the street to cross when a car sped by—“ and he shakes his head, “she didn’t make it,” your fingers knit together, before one of your hands finds his.

“You didn’t have to share that if you weren’t ready,” and he’s offering a weak smile, squeezing your hand.

“I wanted to,” he sighs, as he rubs at his eye, “there’s not much I wouldn’t tell you,” and you supposed that was the difference between him and Suguru — communication that wasn’t limited, a conversation that wasn’t one sided, and honesty — without a price.

“So there’s been no one else since Rika?” you tilt your head, and you swear you see a twinge of red across his cheeks, dusting his features even in the dim light.

“Why are you asking?” he says slowly, it feels as if he’s caught you, as your gaze snaps away, a pout on your lips, as you press your knuckles to your lips — and it’s as if he got a hold of your thoughts, “is it because of Kirara earlier?”

“Oh, that’s her name?” Yuta has to bite back a small smile at your narrowed eyes, unable to meet his gaze, “how do you—”

“She’s a friend from high school — and she’s dating another old friend from high school,” he adds, and your eyes snap to his, “I don’t like her like that anyway — she’s just a good friend, and likes to give me unsolicited advice on my fashion sense,”

Your lips curl, “Well you are a little basic in your—” and he cuts you off with a look, and you’re shifting your body to face him fully, “so if it’s not Kirara, you don’t have anyone in mind? Not even a crush?”

Your question feels like an answer in and of itself — along with the look you’re giving him — the same one he had always given you, when you weren’t looking — longing. But what if he was wrong? What if he was projecting? But he could spend his whole time wondering, and never knowing — or he could take the leap.

He chews on his bottom lip, and he steels himself, his gaze turning back to you, “and if I said there was?”

Were you ready for this? Would you ever be ready for this? Suguru still lingered in the back of your mind collecting cobwebs, on the tip of your tongue like a curse unspoken — and yet your forefront was filled with nothing but Yuta — his kindness, his honesty, his straightforward nature — all things you hadn’t gotten from Suguru when it mattered, when it counted. And it would be easy — there would be no complications — other than the complications that always came with relationships and emotions.

But that was far simpler than what you and Suguru had to deal with.

“Then I’d ask you,” your fingers reaching across a line that was meant to be crossed, but one that perhaps you shouldn’t anyway, “what are you waiting for?” and your hand finds his — his hand smaller than the one you’re used to, but warmer and softer.

“I don’t want to rush—” and you’re shaking your head, as your squeeze his hand, fingers laced together, as your thumb runs over his palm.

“We don’t have to,” you murmur, your gaze finding his, and he’s leaning closer to you, as if with a magnetic pull — and you find yourself attracted and not repelled to his pull, “we can take our time, can’t we?”

And his lips curl into a small smile, his dark eyes nearly consumed by the shadows underneath them, but somehow as soft as they always were — “Is this a dream?” he murmurs, whisper like, as if his words would ripple across the surface of reality until it disappeared within its depths, “I wanted to tell you for so long — but I didn’t know it if was too soon or if—”

“I know,” it had been three months, three months since you had your heart broken, but you were tired of wallowing, of trying to put your heart back together by yourself — you may have filled in the cracks, but maybe you needed someone to cement the parts back into one — and maybe Yuta was the one, “and maybe it is, but I want to try,” you admit, “is that wrong?”

And how could he say it was — when it was all he wanted?”

“No,” his fingertips brush against your cheek, “maybe it’s just right.”

~~~

He shifted in his sleep, a warm body pressed against him, his arms slinking around your own, your face buried in his neck in the best way he could imagine. Your fingers raked through his jet black locks, you pressed a sweet kiss to his neck, and a soft groan left his lips.

“Baby, finally awake?” your lips press a smile against his skin, your finger drawing a circle against his chest, “we have to get up soon, we’ll be late,” you murmur, “and I know how you feel about being late,” your nose brushes against his jumping pulse, “Sugu?”

Suguru groans softly, burying his face in your hair, “Five more minutes,” and you chuckle against him, his favorite sound that graces his ears, his eyes fluttering shut again, as he surrounds himself in your scent — the notes of lavender and rosemary from your shampoo, “just want to spend a few more minutes with you, sweetheart — I need you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

You hum, rubbing his head softly, fingers curling around one of the locks of his hair, “I don’t recall you gracing me with five minutes when I was late on that first day,”

He groans, shifting only to bury himself in your chest, pressing soft kisses to the valley between your breasts, nose pressed against the hollow of your throat, the cold metal of the dragon pendant against his cheek, “I wasn’t your boyfriend then,” he’s leaning back only to press a sweet kiss to your lips, again and again — it always felt so right being with you.

“But you’re not my boyfriend now,” and he pauses, before glancing up at you, your eyes glassy with tears, “remember?” your fingers ghosted over his cheek.

RING. RING. RING.

His eyes don’t bother to open as he reaches for his phone, turning off the ringer, before his hand reaches for you, only to find an empty space beside him. He flutters his eyes open, glancing over, and finds your absence beside him.

It had been months, but you still haunted him—and he would spend the rest of his life running from the ghost of what could have been—and pretending it doesn’t hurt.

He turns on his side to look away from your side of the bed — even though it still did.

~~~

You stared at the outfits laid out on the bed — practically your entire closet threw up your complete wardrobe, and even so, you couldn’t find a single thing you wanted to wear. Or rather—

You tossed another blouse onto the pile— you couldn’t find a single thing that didn’t remind you of Suguru. One of these he had said brought out your eyes, the other he had picked out for you, and the other he had taken you out on your one month anniversary for a surprise date.

There were too many memories — and too many that you didn’t care to relive. Especially today, as your phone goes off — I’ll be on my way over soon. Are you almost ready?

Fuck. Yuta was on his way almost and you hadn’t even finished picking an outfit.

By almost ready, do you mean not ready at all? You bite your lip, I know it’s silly but I can’t decide what to wear.

You dig two outfits out of the bottom of the pile — and stare at them — you didn’t like to wear new outfits on a first date, but maybe this would be a fresh start for you. One where you could leave behind some of the memories tied around your ankles like anchors, dragging you down the depths of waters you didn’t want to explore any longer.

Your phone goes off again — You’d look amazing in anything — I’ll be there soon.

Your lips curl at the sight of his text — you choose a dress, tugging your shirt over your head and your shorts down, before pulling the dress down. And you adjust your hair in the mirror, before looking closely at yourself — a glint catching your eyes.

Your fingers ghost over the dragon pendant — you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to take it off. But maybe it was time — and your hands reach around unclasping the chain before placing it in the palm of your hand.

Your fingertip traces over the rainbow colored gems — and he wondered if he even still thought of you like you thought of him. It was so easy for him to leave — so did he put you out of his mind while he was at it? You held the necklace over the trash bin next to your vanity — your fingers squeezing at the chain and pendant, as it dug into your skin — should you toss it away like he had with you?

No —you pulled your hand back — no, you couldn’t. You placed the necklace in the box it came in, tucking it away behind some things.

You heard your phone go off again, as you spared one last glance at the vanity, where the box was hidden away—

Because it still meant something to you. Even if it didn’t to him.

~~~

“You complain about my movies, but the one you chose was much worse,” you say as you unlock your apartment, “that plot line made little to no sense,”

“If you suspend your disbelief—“

You stop, your key hanging from your door, as you stare at him, “I can believe that supernatural powers exist in that universe, but why would the universe entrust these powers to the stupidest people alive?” He snorts, as you continue unlocking the door, as you spare a glance at Yuta who is still fidgeting near your doorway, “you gonna come in?”

“I-well, I thought since this our first date, maybe I shouldn’t since you wouldn’t do that one a first date,” and you blink, your lips curling, as you watch him trip over his words, cheeks tinged pink, “not that anything would happen if I did come in—but—“

You step closer, silencing his words, seemingly stuck in his throat, “You really thought a lot about this, haven’t you?” and your fingers brush his, slowly intertwining with his as you bridge the gap, “I really appreciate it,”

He bites his lip, eyes sliding sideways, as he does, before he’s tilting his head again, “I just don’t want you rush into anything, and I don’t want us to still feel like—”

“Just friends I know,” you smile, “well then why don’t we leave it here for tonight, but call me when you get home?” He slowly nods, but he still isn’t leaving, “Yuta?”

And he steps a little closer, your breath catches, stuck in your lungs, as your chest squeezes when his fingers find your cheek, “Can I kiss you?” And your answer comes before you know it as you nod wordlessly.

His lips curl into a smile, as he leans closer and your noses bump, a small chuckle escaping your lips before his lips find yours.

It’s chaste, at first, until his lips find yours in a firmer kiss. He tastes faintly of the salt and butter of the popcorn he just had, and you can feel him smile against your lips, before you both part.

Your lips curl, “Well that is definitely something I never do with a friend,”

“You sure?” He murmurs and you hum, as your foreheads press against the other’s, as your fingers intertwine and you tug him inside your apartment.

“Maybe just the ones I really like.”

~~~

“You look happy,” Maki notes, as Yuta shows up early to work on a project for student government — it had been a few days since their first date, and Yuta had just gotten a text from you asking if he was coming over tonight. His lips quirked upwards as he told you he’d be there after he finished his work, as his eyes flitted up to find Maki’s, “don’t tell me you actually got the balls to ask her—“ and his eyes won’t quite meet her own, a smile on his lips, “fuck, don’t tell me—”

“We had our third date last night—” and he earns himself a hard punch to his shoulder, as he jolts, staring at Maki, “ow! Why—”

“Three dates and you tell me now?” and Yuta’s rubbing his shoulder, as he frowns, “what’s with the face? My punch didn’t hurt that bad,” she takes a seat, and leans back in her chair, as she rifles through the paperwork,

He shakes his head, “I wasn’t sure if I should be going around telling people — it’s new—”

“Wouldn’t you be happy to talk about your relationship?” And he’s hesitating, and Maki’s chair legs clack against the floor as she leans forward again, “what are you so scared of still?”

What was it that he was scared of? That it wouldn’t work out? That he’d lose you before he had even truly had you? That he’d hurt you? And it was true, he was scared of all of those things, but it wasn’t those things holding him back—

“I saw the way she talked about her ex, the smile she had when she would come off talking about him,” he leans against his hand, elbow propped up on the table, “she always had this smile on her face — just this look that I don’t think I’ve ever seen her have with me—“

“A look doesn’t make or break a relationship, Okkotsu,” Maki says with a sigh, “and she was already in that relationship for who knows how long at that point?”

“I know, but—“

“I can’t tell you how to run your relationship but you have to decide whether you’re in this or not — because if you keep comparing yourself, you’ll never be happy,” and Yuta nods, before glancing at her, “what?”

“How do you know so much about this?” Maki crosses her arms, a slight blush on her cheeks.

“You’re not the only one with a social life—“ but she cuts him off before he can ask more questions, “but this is about you, not me,” she leans forward, “you need to focus on your relationship now, not her old one,”

And he nods — he needed to trust you, otherwise this would never work with his head stuck in the past or looking into the future. Otherwise, this insecurity would seep like poison into his present — and he would lose you anyway.

“You’re right, thanks Maki,” and his phone goes off again, another text from you — I miss you — come soon.

Maybe he just needed to trust you — and himself. But even so, as he typed his reply to you — I’ll pick up dinner on the way. I’ll be back soon. Promise — but why was it so difficult?

~~~

“Ah, Yu,” you murmured against his lips before swallowing your words completely, you were even prettier breathless than he had imagined. Well, more like than he had dreamt. He had resisted the urge to fantasize about you, thinking it would be disrespectful, crossing a line that wasn’t meant to be crossed. But that didn’t mean he could control his subconscious when he would slip into the embrace of sleep.

He’d see you beside him on the couch, and you’d lean over and simply find his lips as if you’d done it a million times before. And he’d melt into your touch with such practiced ease, his fingers skimming over your sides, and he was desperate for more, more, more. He would only slide his hands up your thighs, fingertips brushing against the fabric of your panties before he’d wake in sweat soaked sheets and his cock straining against his boxers.

This was so much better.

It had started on the couch just like his dream, the two of you lying together, cuddling on the couch as the two of you half watched a movie.

“Are you sleepy?” He asked softly, tucking a strand behind your ear, and you shake your head, as you shift closer to him, half of your body pressed against him. He did his best not to shift much, as you move even closer to him, nearly lying on top of him, “what—“

His breath catches as you lean closer, “can I—“ and he’s nodded without a second thought, as your lips found his, and his fingers found your hips. His tongue grazed the seam of your lips before slipping inside, and he eagerly steals your breath from your very lungs. And you’re moving, now lying squarely on top of him, your hips pressed against his, as his already hard cock throbs against your cunt.

He bites back a moan when he feels just how wet you already are, soaking through your shorts and drenching his sweatpants, “Fuck,” he murmurs, as your lips both part for a breath, as he cups your chin, only to press hot kisses to your burning skin, “baby, you taste so good,”

And that’s where he found himself now.

Your tiny gasps and murmurs of his name, as his lips explored what skin he could reach, while his hands slid up and down your body, now warm palms resting above your hips, toying with the hem of your shirt.

“Yuta, please,” the whine in your throat makes the heat grow thicker been you two, the movie fading into but white noise, as he cards his fingers through your hair, “don’t tease me,”

And he’s swallowing thickly, his dick twitching at the thought of taking this further — the two of you had done everything but this step, your hands had grazed under the other’s clothes, grinded against each other as you made out, but one of you would end up stopping it for one reason or another. It was a game of chicken, one or the other seemingly daring the other to take that step — but neither of you had.

But now — as his thumb dragged over your puffy, kiss ruined lips, “Do you want to?” he asks an unspoken question, his resistance weakening to your touches, your fingers ghosting up his chest before one of your hands finds his cheek.

“I do,” you answer, but bite your lip, “I’m just…a little nervous,” and his lips press a sweet kiss to your forehead.

“We can always wait — I never want to make you feel uncomfortable, baby,” he’s featherlight in his touches now, “it’s up to you,” and it was — he would wait for you, as long as you wanted him.

You smile at him, finding his lips in another kiss — he didn’t know it was possible for someone to be this soft, or feel this good — he could taste the sweetness of ice cream you had ate earlier on your lips, but you were so much better than any dessert.

Your fingers rake gently through his hair, “Let’s move to the bedroom?”

~~~

You wanted Yuta — you did. You had for the weeks the two of you had dated. It had been almost two months, and the two of you hadn’t had sex yet. There wasn’t a reason to rush, but there wasn’t a reason not to. The line had been edged to the brink of insanity — for the both of you. There was always seemingly a reason to stop — an early class, a late night, stomach upset — and it always felt like timing was just off. But it wasn’t always just the timing.

It was also you.

Every time you and Yuta got close, each time you felt even an ounce of pleasure, the guilt of Suguru would claw up your throat, again and again. And you were sure Yuta had noticed. But even if he had, you didn’t know a way to explain without making him think you were still in love with Suguru — which you weren’t.

You didn’t think you were. The guilt lingered, like blood dried from a still open wound, scabbed over but not healed, easily reopened with even a scratch or a step. And it felt like with each step you took away from Suguru, you bled more and more — but you didn’t know how to stop the bleeding. You couldn’t stem the bleeding at its source, not when the person you had cut it open didn’t even give you a chance to speak.

And you couldn’t talk to Yuta about it — not when you still hadn’t explained who Suguru is — and what exactly he does for work. Or much of anything else and you didn’t even know how to begin that conversation or why it would be necessary. Does he need to know all of that when you would be graduating soon enough and Suguru would be only a distant memory.

But you hoped Yuta wouldn’t be.

Your fingers laced with his as you led him to your bedroom — as you pull him inside, shutting the door behind you. You gently guide him onto your bed and have him sit while you stand, your fingers cupping his face, as his breath hitches at your proximity. His lips parted ever so slightly, as a pretty pink settled over his cheeks.

“Baby, are you sure?” His lips are half twisting in a frown, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips and back again, “I don’t want—“

And your lips find his in a soft kiss, pressing yourself between his legs, as your hands find purchase on his shoulders, “I want you, Yuta,” you murmur, you were tired of letting the past dictate your present — you wanted to move forward, “don’t you want me too?” And your lips ghost over his jaw up to his ear, as you whisper in it, while leaving kisses that make his body shiver, wondering if you’ve turned his blood to ice or made it turn to steam with how his skin burned.

“You’re not playing fair” he mumbles, as he buries your face in the crook of your neck, and you laugh, your fingers skimming the back of his neck.

“I’m here to win, we never said anything about fair,” you twirl the black locks resting against his neck, your lips press another kiss to his cheekbone, “you still haven’t answered my question—“

“Of course I want you,” he looks up at you, his need like a spark catching fire on your body, “I always have,”

“Well I’m right here,” you murmur, you tilt his chin up, fingers threaded in his black locks, “what are you going to do about it?”

~~~

Yuta was going to lose his mind — but it’s just as well, you already had his heart.

At your words, he’s tugging you even closer as he moves back on the bed, gaze hot as he watches you move, sitting on his lap — knees on either side of his waist. Fuck, you felt so good against him, plush thighs pressing into his hands already sliding down your lower back and grazing your ass to press you impossibly closer.

“Good boy,” you murmur, and his blood flees his cheeks to his cock, twitching against your clothed cunt, and you smirk, a giggle escaping your lips, “you like that, huh?” you breath against his ear, “my good boy,”

And in an instant, you’re pinned under him, and you’re blinking up at him, smile exchanged for parted lips, as his hands slide up your sides, and he’s leaning down to kiss you. His mouth burns against yours, tongue teasing the seam of your lips, before they part for him.

“Now who’s being good for who?” he murmurs, as he pulls back with your teeth catching his bottom lip between your teeth. He groans, grinding against you, the length of his cock grinding against your clothed slit, “you won't let me have a moment, can you?” He murmurs, a red flush on his cheeks that makes you grin.

“Not as long as you’re with me, Yu,” and god, that nickname for him makes his head spin— it’s already so much — the picture of you spread so prettily for him, your thighs parted under him, shirt riding up, just asking for him to slide underneath, and your bodies pressed together in all of the right places, as if neither of you could get close enough.

And apparently you couldn’t, as you guide his hands to the hem of your shirt, and you’re helping him pull it over your head before tossing it onto the floor. And he sees nothing underneath, your nipples pebbled and hard under his gaze, so pretty for him.

When his fingers twitch, you chuckle, “touch me,” and your words melt away his reservations, as his hands find your breasts, warm palms squeezing and teasing the soft flesh. He leans down and presses a kiss to one of your pert nipples, his tongue flicking the pert bud, drawing a small gasp from your lips, a pretty noise he wants to make fall from your lips again and again. Your head falls back into your pillow, as he switches sides, teasing the one with his lips, while he rolls the other between his index and thumb.

“Fuck, Yuta,” he smiles against you, as his lips begin to kiss down your body, starting with the valley of your breasts before trailing wet kisses down your stomach, until he reaches the waistband of your shorts. And his eyes are flicking up to meet yours to ask silently, and your nod is all it takes for his fingers to dip in and tug the thin fabric down your legs, fingers dragging along the dips and curves of your legs as he does. He bends down to steal kisses to your swell of your hips and the crown of your knee.

“S’pretty,” he’s mumbling, as his eyes find the wet patch on your underwear, fabric messy and soaked through as it cling helplessly to your hard clit, “how are you this pretty, baby?”

“All for you, sweet boy,” you’re murmuring, as you hiss when he’s teasing your clit through your panties, “Yu, fuck—“ he could cum just listening to you — he doesn’t know what he’ll do once he’s inside you—

But one step at a time.

He’s leaning down to press a kiss to it, before he’s slipping two fingers into the elastic to tug it down, with a nod from you. He’s pressing kisses and nips to your inner thigh, relishing in the marks he leaves on you — ones that he and you would only see. And finally you’ve kicked your underwear off, fully bare for him.

“How do you smell so sweet?” he’s whispering, as his eyes drag over your exposed folds, and a whimper escapes your lips, he can’t wait to make you moan. And he’s bending down to drag his tongue over your dripping cunt, a thick stripe that has you gasping, fingers winding their way into his black locks, nails digging deliciously into his scalp.

And you taste even better than he imagined — so good that he's already lapping at your folds, tip of his tongue flicking over your clit — and he hears the wrinkle of the sheets as your toes curl into them. He’s rutting into your mattress, ready to cum in his boxers at how good your pussy feels — dick nearly bursting at the thought of having your cunt around him.

“Fuck, baby,” you’re swearing under your breath, as your body tenses under his tongue, he begins to slurp at your juices. His hands find their way under the soft flesh of your thighs to tug you flush to his lips, “Yu, so good,” and all he can hear are the lewd sounds of his tongue buried in your pussy, working your walls open, pretty walls fluttering around him, “feel so good, ngh, ah—” your eyes find his, and it’s enough for him to blow his load then and there — eyes blown out with lust as they meet his own, your lips parted in lovely pants and moans.

And he knows you’re close, can feel it in the way your walls shudder, and he’s burying himself in your cunt, fucking you open with his tongue while he rubs your clit in quick circles.

“Yu, I’m cum—“ and you cut yourself off with a moan, back arching as you cum hard, his name on your lips, and he’s eating you out through your orgasm, greedily drinking every bit of release you give him. And it’s only when it’s too much, your body slightly shaking, as you gently pull at his hair, that he eases off.

You watch him with half lidded eyes as he pulls away, still between your thighs — lips and chin glossy and drenched in your release. He licks his lips and chin clean, watching you come down from your high, fuck, the way your walls clench around nothing makes him want to bury his face back in your folds.

“So good, Yu, s’good for me,” you’re panting, sweat slicked against your skin, as you’re gently tugging at him, and he obliges, keening at the praise as he slips up your body until your lips find his. You moan, tasting yourself on his lips, a sloppy, messy kiss that leaves him breathless.

And you’re flipping you both over, his eyes dilating at the sight of you, eyes raking over his body, eager hands thumbing at the hem of his shirt.

Your lips in a smirk that leaves his dick throbbing, “my turn, Yu, let me make you feel good,”your hands make quick work of his shirt, tugging it up and over, tossing it in the growing pile of clothes in the corner of your bedroom.

Your lips press sweet kisses all over his chest, fingers teasing his chest, but you have bigger intentions in mind, as your fingers quickly find their way to the waistband of his sweatpants. And with a nod given, you’re deftly tugging it down with a raise of his hips to pull the fabric off and kicked away, leaving him only in his boxers.

You bite your lip when you see the large wet patch from his pre, your fingers teasing his slit through the fabric, drawing a hiss from his lips. He swallows, watching your pretty lips bend down to press a kiss to his cock through the fabric. And it’s enough for him to lose his mind completely, “please,” he whimpers, and you smile down at him, dragging your thumb down his lips.

“Please what?” you ask innocently, for someone whose fingers were grazing his erection the way they were, he swallows as he watches your finger trace up and down his clothes cock, “what do you want me to use? My hand? My mouth?”

And he’s shaking his head, “Anything, just please I need—“ and your fingers dip into the elastic of his boxers, snapping it against his skin, a yelp escaping his lips that makes you giggle, “that’s not nice—“ and he’s gasping when your lips press a hot kiss to his hip, your eyes lidded with desire.

“Who said I was nice?”

~~~

You were going to be the death of him, and with the way your fingers tug down his boxers — finally freeing his cock, slapping against his stomach as it does — it would be a sweet death.

“Didn’t know your cock was so pretty like the rest of you, Yu,” and it was, so long and thick, pearly precum dripping down his flushed length, veins that ran up and down the length that you were far too eager to trace, “can’t wait to taste you,” you’re murmuring, as your tongue flicks down against his slit.

“B-baby, please,” his hand is covering his face, but you reach up to pry it away, seeing the lovely red that settled over his cheeks, lips parted in need as he painted, “please—“

And your fingers wrap around his dick, thumbing the slit and working the precum up and down his length. And he’s moaning your name on his lips again and again, as you kiss his tip sliding your fingers down to his base and squeezing. And when your lips part for him, sliding his length in your mouth, his head falls back against the pillows, eyes squeezed shut as he can’t help but roll his hips into your mouth. And when his tip brushes the back of your throat, it’s enough for him to cum right then and there, but he doesn’t want to — not yet, not until he’s inside you.

He’s easing you off, watching strings of pre and your spit connect you to his aching cock, as you look up at him, and he’s pulling you into a messy kiss, tasting his own pre on your lips.

“I need you,” he’s murmuring, fingers finding your hips, “baby, please,”

You smile, parting from him, “how do you need me?” And he’s swallowing, cock twitching, and he knows he’s one stroke too fast from bursting — so he needs control.

“Lie on the bed, baby,” and you do, easing from between his legs, and onto your back, head against the plush pillows. He parts your legs for you, warm palms squeezing your flesh teasingly, drawing a whine from you, he presses your thighs up, letting them hook around his back, as his skin meets yours. And god, you’re perfect, “how did I get so lucky? You’re so perfect, so pretty,” and he’s slotting himself between your thighs, fingers lining up his cock with your dripping slit, his curiosity getting the better of him as he drags the head up your messy folds still slick with your release, and groans as he watches your walls flutter around nothing, “so good for me, are you ready, baby?”

You’re nodding, “please Yu, I need—” and his tip is sliding into you, his length stretching your walls far too well, and it’s enough for him to cum right there — as your cunt adjusts to his size, dragging against you as he pushes past your entrance. It’s enough for him to cum right there, but he wants it to be good for you both — wants you to hear you praise him again, wants to hear you say his name again and again until you fall apart on his cock.

And finally he’s bottoming out, a moan from both of your lips, your walls fluttered around his length, your head lolls back a moment, before your eyes flutter open and meet his, “S’good, Yu, please, move,” and he’s cupping your cheek, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, before he begins to fuck you slowly.

The echoes of your skin meeting his rings in hie ears, needy walls pulling you back in even as he tried to pull out, sinking deeper and deeper each time he fucked you.

He’s burning, ready to melt at your very touch, putty in your hands to bend and shape at your will, even as you swallow him whole, he’s ready for you to consume every inch of him with your being.

“Feels s’good, Yuta,” you’re moaning, legs around his hips pulling him impossibly closer, “such a good boy,” and his cock twitches, your mixed releases forming a ring around the base of his length, “s’good, need more,”

And he’s groaning, as your wet squelches fill the silence between both of your moans and pants — and you’re close, as he gives a particularly deep thrust that finds the spot that has you seeing stars. Your head falls back, lips parted in his name, “Yu, I’m close — ngh, please—“ and he’s smiling, his cheeks surely flushed blood red, panting, as he reaches between your bodies to find your clit.

“Cum f’me, baby,” he’s murmuring, and you’re nodding, as you fall apart for him, toes curling as you cum hard around him, making him groan your name as he spills his warm seed inside you, pumping slowly as he does. His body slows as you both come down from your highs, and he slowly rolls off of you, running fingers through your hair and pressing sweet kisses, “are you okay?” he murmurs, eyes soft with affection, but laced with concern.

You smile, “I’m more than okay,” you press your face into his chest, and he’s shivering at your touch, pulling you even closer, “I’m with you,” and his fingers run up and down your cheek, before leaning down to meet your lips in a soft kiss.

That’s right, he smiles as he kisses your forehead — he was with you. And the past didn’t matter — when he was in your present.

“I’ll always be with you,” he mutters against your lips.

And hopefully in your future.

~~~

“What are you doing, I thought you were almost done,” Yuta mumbles against the soft skin of your neck, pressing sweet kisses that did nothing but sap the need for productivity from your very veins — leaving only behind thoughts of his touch behind, “baby,”

“Yu, I promise I’m almost done, I just have to send this email about my thesis and you’ll have my undivided attention,” you both had been stuck in the end of the semester rush, trying to find time for each other — leaving you stressed out and Yuta a little needy. That’s what this night was supposed to be for — a chance to reconnect, and yet here you were working. But you had to send this thesis out or you knew Yaga would have your head for delaying your work on your outline for so long — something you would be spending next semester fleshing out into a full thesis you’d be presenting.

He nods, but continues to pepper you with kisses, your skin nearly molten under his touch as his arms wrap around your waist to pull you further into his lap instead of beside him on the couch, “After all the work I did to snag Professor Yaga as my thesis advisor, I cannot let the department head down with my draft,”

He hums, vibrations making you nearly shiver, “I know, I’m really proud of you. I know you’re going to have something really special by the end of the year,” and you shake your head.

“I just hope I make it past the defense — it’s the most nerve wracking part,” you sigh, “a room of my peers and professors staring me down while I discuss the work I’ve done,” you proof read the email for the millionth time — scanning for any errors and make sure the attachment is the correct attachment — and finally click send, and sigh before relaxing into his arms.

“Can I come to your defense?” Yuta asks, perking up, and you smile, leaning back against him.

“Are you sure you’d want to come? It’s going to be just me rambling about my thesis and answering a bunch of questions,” you kiss his jaw softly, nosing the small hickey you left blooming on his pale skin last night, “might not be the most exciting thing,”

“I want to support you, as long as you want me there,” and you can’t help but wonder — would Suguru show up to your defense? The thought makes your stomach churn at the thought of them watching you present, eyes flitting from one to the other. You had doubts he would show himself there — but the only catch was if Yaga would twist his arm. And then what? You had nearly blown your relationship wide open once before when you had ran into Suguru in front of Yuta—

You couldn’t risk it again.

“Let me think about it, ok?” You nuzzle your nose against his cheek, as he frowns, “I just think if I have you there, I might get too nervous—“

He shakes his head, “Whatever makes you comfortable, either way, we’re going to celebrate right after,” and you tilt your head.

“What if I don’t pass?” And he shakes his head.

“If hell freezes over, I think we’ll have bigger problems,” and you snort, “but on the very off chance you don’t, you still accomplished something incredible—“ and your lips find his, and he melts into your kiss after a moment.

“Thank you,” you whisper, “I’m so lucky to have you,” and he curls his lips into a sweet smile.

“I’m the lucky one,” and his lips press against yours this time, meeting yours again and again, until you’re placing your laptop aside, and turning to sit in his lap, “baby,” heat rolls off his body in waves, as your fingers trace down his chest.

“I heard someone wanted my undivided attention tonight,” you smile, before taking your phone and placing it on ‘do not disturb,’ “well now what are you going to do with it?”

He smiles, “Don’t know if we’ll have enough time for everything, but,” he presses a kiss to your jaw, “we can try,” and the two of you are making your way to the bedroom soon enough, unaware that you had gotten an important email that night—

From: Suguru Geto

Subject Line: Regarding Your Thesis Advisor

~~~

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you’re adjusting your hair as you sprint your way to Professor Yaga’s office. This is what you get for staying up far too late with your far too tempting boyfriend. And now you woke up thirty minutes before the meeting, with barely enough time to make it on time, much less breath. Yuta gave you a kiss goodbye, but that’s all he had time for — before you were out the door.

But you finally reached Yaga’s door, catching your breath when you took a second to regain your composure before knocking. You blinked — weird, his door was usually open. And the door opens, but it isn’t Yaga—

It’s Suguru?

It’s Suguru.

You stare at him, wondering if this is another twisted nightmare you had ensnared yourself in, but no — it isn’t. Because even your subconscious couldn’t make a scenario this twisted. His lips parted to say something, but you beat him to it.

“If you’re meeting with Professor Yaga, I can come back at a different time, Professor,” the title slips from your lips without barely a thought, but it carries far too much weight. A flicker of emotion catches on the corner of his lips and in the glint of his eyes, but it’s gone as quickly as it came.

“You’re on time, but I still you did not have the time to check your email before this meeting,” he tilts his head, as you blink slowly, “please come in and have a seat,”

And you do, taking a seat across from him as he sits on the other side of the desk, you shift in your seat, as you take him in for the first time in months — his hair was still long, black tresses brushing against his shoulders, hair half up in a neat bun near the crown of his head; his eyes tucked behind his glasses for once, but you could see the burgeoning beginnings of dark bags under his eyes; and his clothes were meticulous as always — and you spot the tie pin he has — it’s the one you had gifted him near the beginning of your relationship — a joke that you had made about pinning him down in class turned into a gift.

And that makes your neck feel all the more bare.

“Is Professor Yaga ok?” and Suguru sighs, running his fingers through his hair.

“He’s fine, he is sick at the moment — and receiving treatment,” you sigh in slight relief, “so he’s decided to take the rest of this semester off, as well as next semester,” and you sigh, leaning back as you cover your lips with your hand.

“Is he going to be—”

“He has a good prognosis, and his son’s with him, looking after him, so it should be fine,” he says softly, and his lips curl in a small smile, as he flips through the papers on Yaga’s desk.

“What’s with the smile?” and he shakes his head, as he rifles through the stacks of paperwork, until he seemingly finds what he’s looking for.

“Nothing, just noticing that your habit of worrying about others before yourself hasn’t changed,” and you glare slightly at him, pursing your lips, as he slides a stapled stack of papers to you.

“And what’s this—”

“Your thesis proposal,” and you take it, flipping through and grimacing at the red pen, “and my thoughts on it,” you scoff, as you see the familiar picture of his scribbles and notes in the margins of your work.

“It looks like old habits die hard for the both of us,” as you finish flipping through, but your brow knits together as the pieces of news start to fit together like a puzzle — with a very mortifying picture, and your eyes meet his, slowly — the news going as well over as a lead balloon, and crashing down on your head like one, “so does this mean—”

His lips curl in a small smile, “I’ll be taking over as your thesis advisor — for the rest of the year.”

✧ a/n: it was supposed to be the last part and now! we have. one more part since i decided i wanted to flesh out the final arc a little more! one more part of this and it will be all done...:)

✧ taglist: @hatsunemitskislobotomy , @difficultdomains , @diogodxlot , @that-goth-bisexual , @dazailover1900 0, @aliyalala , @ashhlsstuff , @blue041803 , @mwtsxri i , @bblgumfairy , @sukunasleftkneecap , @xo-evangeline , @fiannee , @teatreeoilll , @chalametet , @ryukaver , @d1gitalbathh , @saga3ious , @seventhcinema , @satosugucide , @your-l0nely-star , @sokkasmoon , @deegausserr , @hyookka , @oggsyy , @littlebitb , @higuchislut , @ti-mame , @itoshisins , @cerene-dipity , @onionsoop , @sinlillith , @izzythenaive , @lalacute03 , @rxndou , @c-themoon , @xxrag-d0llxx , @hqtoge , @sugarxlumps , @hopeluna , @actualdeemon , @enchantedpendant , @serendididy , @soulstealercat , @neuviloved , @simply-a-s1mp , @satorusmochis , @maddietries

#sab [mlist]#sab series [prof suguru]#suguru geto x reader #suguru geto smut #suguru geto x you #geto x reader #suguru geto fanfiction #yuta okkotsu x reader #yuta okkotsu x you #yuta okkotsu fanfiction #geto suguru x reader #yuta okkotsu smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction

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yandere-daydreams · 2 months

Text

Title: Going Live.

Pairing: Yandere!Nanami x Reader (JJK)

Word Count: 7.6k.

TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Camgirl!Reader, Kidnapping, Physical Intimidation, Long-Term Stalking, Obsessive Behavior, Delusional Behavior, Slight Exhibitionism, and Panic Attacks + Disassociation. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.

You were a lot of things to Nanami Kento – his world, his light, his love – but above all else, you were the reason he looked forward to getting home.

Calling it ‘infatuation’ would’ve been a disservice to the depth of his feelings for you. It’d been love at first sight; instant and wholehearted, a shackle snapped shut around his neck that he had no will or desire to escape. His eyes were on his watch as soon as he crossed the threshold, his coat shrugged off and abandoned along with his tie in the doorway. He didn’t bother turning on lights or taking off his shoes, doing anything to make his empty apartment seem more lived-in, his focus solely dedicated to reaching his home office with as few disruptions as was possible, with Gojo and the higher-ups still attempting to contact him about the curse he’d finished exorcising less than an hour prior. They could wait. You wouldn’t.

He was smiling by the time he collapsed into the leather-cushioned chair, his laptop still on his desk from the night before – the last time he got to see you. The motions were automatic, practiced to the point of reflexivity. One hand glided over the keyboard while the other found his phone, silencing it in the same motion as he tossed it haphazardly onto the desk, out of his view. He checked his watch one more time; 6:59. Good. He was early.

His grin brightened, as did his laptop. Your stream flickered to life a second later and with it, your smiling face. The relief was instant, pure warmth accompanying it. The bittersweet tinge – as subtle as it was prodding – came only a moment later, but Nanami did his best to ignore it.

You were the sole reason Nanami Kento looked forward to getting home. The center of his world, the sole light in his otherwise bleak life. The person he loved more than anything, more than everything.

It was only a shame, then, that you had no idea he existed.

One of his favorite things about you had always been your meticulousness. For tonight’s show, you were splayed out across the foot of a queen-sized bed, surrounded by pastel pink satin sheets and a fleece comforter of the same shade, a matching dormant hitachi vibrator (Nanami’s favorite and, guessing from how often it made an appearance in your shows, yours too) nestled between your thighs. Your outfit was aesthetically pleasing – a set of lacey, baby blue lingerie with white, knee socks – but paired with your set up, casual enough to give the impression that you hadn’t realized the camera you were posing in front of was actually on, as if you weren’t entirely prepared to be seen by a thousand or so strangers just yet. The fact that you didn’t start talking right away, only humming as you idly toyed with your hair, only added to the nonchalance of it all. You would make a good actress, if you ever decided to pursue something more, for lack of a more applicable phrase, legitimate.

Nanami’s attention drifted from you to your chat, slowly starting to fill with impatient viewers. Despite himself, he felt his absentminded smile waver, an irk of irritation momentarily tainting his bliss. He knew you weren’t entirely real, that he didn’t have any right to be possessive over a performer, but he loved you. It would’ve been difficult for anyone to watch someone they loved be exposed to so many prying eyes.

user34333: fuck she’s hot

hotbox420: looking good y/n!!!

lostandconfused: why does she still have her clothes on?

The only silver lining was how oblivious you seemed to it. Another minute passed before you straightened, yawning slightly as you pushed yourself up, legs hanging over the foot of your bed. “Welcome home,” you started, with a quick stretch and a playful wave towards the camera. “Everyone’s already put the kids to bed, right? I’ve got a very special surprise I want to bring out a little later, so nobody’s allowed to leave early.”

Your tone was light, melodic, saccharine. Already, Nanami could feel his cock beginning to harden against his thigh, straining at the material of his pants. You were always mobile during your shows, prone to flitting from one position to another, but tonight, you almost seemed antsy as you pulled your legs back onto the mattress, tucking your knees underneath you and bowing your head, your neutral smile taking on a shy undertone. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day,” you admitted, speaking quickly enough for the words to blend together. Then, with more composure, “Who wants to get us started?”

Nanami’s hand was already on his keyboard, waiting for your cue. Somehow, he was still too late.

blueeyeswhitedragon sent 150 credits!

blueeyeswhitedragon: Bra first, pretty please.

You giggled as you raised your hands, leaning forward to give the camera a better view of your chest as you undid the clasp at the nape of your neck. Nanami’s breath hitched as the thin fabric fell away, revealing the soft curves of your breasts and your pretty, perfect nipples – already hard, already enough to make saliva pool underneath his tongue. The lower clasp was next, undone with more effort and more bouncing than what seemed absolutely necessary, but Nanami couldn’t complain, not when he was struggling to undo the fly of his dress pants without ever looking away from you. There was another giggle as the article fell away entirely, then a third as you cupped your chest with both hands, groping gently. “I used to be so shy about taking my top off on camera…” You trailed off, batting your eyes. “But, you guys think I’m pretty, right?”

Your requested affirmations flooded the chat in an instant. Nanami grinned, slumping back in his chair. He could compliment any part of you earnestly, but aside from donations, he rarely let himself participate in your chat. Speaking to you so openly, being one of a dozen people whose username you’d glance over in a second – that wasn’t what he wanted. Anonymous adoration wasn’t the shape his affection took.

Eventually, you collapsed back onto your bed. “Okay, okay, that’s enough,” you went on, as Nanami wrapped a fist around the base of his cock. “What next?”

There was another offer – 300 credits for your panties, 400 if you took them off with your back to the camera. You obliged, bent at the waist, inching the silken fabric down your thighs at an almost sadistic pace. After you finished, you seemed ready to move onto the main show, but another donation cropped up in your chat.

user34232 sent 75 credits!

user34232: for the socks pls

That, as far as Nanami could tell, seemed to catch you genuinely off-guard. He could see you blushing as you leaned towards the camera – or, he supposed, the laptop you had positioned underneath it, as if you’d misread something. “…my socks?”

Nanami stifled a grown, tightening his hold. With his free hand, he reached for the keyboard,

n. kento sent 200 credits!

n. kento: Don’t take them off.

You played your part perfectly, sighing as you let your head lull to the side. All it took was you batting your eye lashes while letting out the sweetest murmur of “Well, I don’t know if that’s fair, but…” for your chat to dissolve into a bidding war, donations ranging from five credits to five hundred. If you were making any earnest attempt to keep track of which side was winning, you clearly had no motivation to call it too early on – pulling your legs onto your bed and kicking your feet out playfully towards the camera. “Some of you guys ask for such weird stuff,” you went on, rolling your left ankle. “If someone doesn’t tell me what to do soon, I think I’m just going to have to change into another outfit.”

Nanami let out a breath of a chuckle, only half aware he was typing.

n. kento sent 1,750 credits!

n. kento: You look beautiful. Keep them on.

You laughed, and this time, Nanami chose to believe it was sincere. “I get it! We’ll move on.” You were already leaning back, rolling onto your stomach, giving your viewers a perfect view of your ass as you reached for something off-screen. “Normally I’d ask for a suggestion,” you said, as you brought what you’d retrieved back into frame – a pale pink rabbit vibrator, the penetrative half of the forked wand ribbed. “But I have something I’m kind of looking forward to. I promise, I’ll try to get past the boring stuff quickly.”

You thought too little of yourself. Arousal drooled from Nanami’s flushed tip as you positioned yourself on the edge of the mattress, legs spread wide and slick, glistening pussy fully on display. You were already wet, but he knew you would be. It was something you joked about often – how sensitive you were, how something as minor as a wet dream would have you soaking through your panties. Normally, he would’ve figured you were just playing it up for the sake of your viewers, but it was hard to deny the evidence in front of him.

A whimper slipped past your parted lips as you eased the head of the toy past your entrance, stretching yourself out on its bulbed tip. Now, now, he started to move his hand, pumping his fist over the length of his shaft in short, slow strokes, matching your tempo as you rocked your toy into your pussy. A dull hum fills the room as your thumb finds the switch built into the handle’s underside, and your expression immediately goes from dazed to pained, your tongue peaking out from between your lips and your eyes fluttering shut as your hips bucked against the vibrator. “It—It feels—” Your thighs threaten to twitch shut, but you hold them open, determined to give your audience the best possible view of your pussy clenching around your toy. “I really—I wanna get some bondage gear soon, so that I can—”

Whatever you might’ve said was replaced by a bubbling moan, and just like that, Nanami was fucking his fist without restraint. He knew how pathetic it was, but it would’ve been impossible not to imagine it was his cock sinking into your dripping cunt rather than an inanimate toy, not to wish it was your pussy clamping down around his length rather than his own fist. He wondered what you smelled like, if you wore perfume, what it would be like to have his face buried between your thighs. He was aware, vaguely, that your chat was the most active it’d been all night, people trying to catch your attention with donations and tips and compliments, but they didn’t matter. They weren’t watching you, not really, not the same way Nanami was. He knew you, well enough to know that you couldn’t think once something had been stuffed inside of your cunt. He loved you, enough to wish he was the one making your mind go so euphorically blank.

There was more moaning, more failed attempts to speak, but you didn’t let yourself cum. You were visibly trembling by the time you switched the toy off, and it took agonizing seconds to ease the wand out of your disappointed pussy – seconds Nanami watched with rapt devotion. More out of sympathy than anything else, he lets go of his cock entirely, gritting his teeth and attempting to ignore the pulsing ache forming in the pit of his stomach. What was next was better. What was next was worth waiting for.

You took a few panting breaths, your voice still airy by the time you managed to speak. “I have a—” You paused, grinned. Nanami smiled too. “I have a surprise for all of you, tonight. I think I mentioned that already, but— oh, right.” You perked up, playing excited. “We have to move to the floor, for this next part.”

You slipped off-screen, and a second later, the camera shifted to follow you – falling onto a corner of your room less staged than your bed, but just as pristine. Abstract, pastel tapestries obscured the walls, but the dark floorboards were left bare. On one side, most of a dog kennel was visible, decorated with string lights and clearly meant for one of your more niche shows, and on the other, he could make out the bottom corner of a poster – not for anything kinky, or sensual, or in any way suggestive, but an underground band, a local band. You probably hadn’t realized it was in the shot, let alone meant for it to be. You were usually more careful about giving away anything even remotely personal, but Nanami couldn’t be mad.

After all, it’d been that poster that’d let him find you.

He could still remember the first time he ever saw you – actually saw you, not through a screen, but in person. After he knew that you lived in the same city as him (the same district, even), it’d only taken a few more days to find your name, your age, your address. Still, he put off visiting you for weeks, telling himself that it didn’t matter, that you wouldn’t recognize him, that you wouldn’t want to see him. And, in the end, you hadn’t seen him at all – you hadn’t needed to.

That night, he’d watched your show from the rooftop of the building opposite of yours, straining to see you through a bedroom window left carelessly open. Even now, the guilt was almost tangibly agonizing, the shame practically unbearable.

Almost as unbearable as the temptation to go back.

But, that part would come soon enough. You were on screen, again, holding something he recognized.

“I have some exciting news,” you chirped, as you kneeled on the floor, holding a pitch-black dildo, a suction cup attached to the base. Despite its color, Nanami could make out defined veins running down the silicone shaft, a noticeable girth to the base. A perfect mirror of the cock currently pulsing for attention in his lap.

He felt himself grinning, as you went on. “I got my first real fan gift!” You held up the toy to your cheek, like a child showing off their first stuffed animal, before planting it on the floor between your thighs. “It’s so big, too,” you said, showing off its size, where the blunt tip rested well above your navel. “Everyone say thank you, Daddy Kento!”

Your chat was instantly flooded with predictable responses, but Nanami couldn’t look away from you. You were enjoying yourself, clearly. You must’ve thought you were so smart, renting out a P. O. box, going on and on about how grateful you were to your dedicated fans when he reached out to ask if you accepted physical donations, and you were smart. It was only a shame that Nanami loved you enough to look past all of your attempts to keep him away.

As you began to move onto your knees, he allowed himself one more intervention.

n. kento sent 3,000 credits!

n. kento: Take it to the hilt.

It was cruder than he usually cared to be, but as your eyes flickered towards your monitor, your lips quirked into a slight smile. You didn’t respond verbally, but you nodded, and sunk down onto his cock.

Immediately, his hand wasn’t enough, but he tried to make do – matching your agonizingly slow pace, imagining what it would feel like to have you lower yourself down onto his real cock, rather than a cheap imitation. Trails of iridescent slick dripped down the dark silicone, your camera positioned strategically to catch every bounce of your breasts as your breathing hitched, to provide the optimal view of your pussy stretching around the tip, then the head, then the shaft as you lowered yourself slowly. “It—It’s so big,” you repeated, bringing a hand up to your stomach while the other remained on the floor, keeping you stable. “I mean, I knew it would be, but—fuck—” Another inch, Nanami’s fist moving over the same part of his cock. You let out an airy laugh. “Just be thankful I’m so tough.”

“I am,” Nanami muttered, his voice echoing off the bare walls of his office. “You’re perfect.”

“I really wanna cum on this one, too – to, like, christen it, or something. Been keeping myself pent up all day for it.” With a pitchy keen, you brought yourself a few inches higher, then dropped. Your free hand shot away from your stomach and back to the floor as you continued to bounce on the toy’s length, getting just a little deeper each time. “Welcome it to family, y’know? Maybe make it a regular, for you sadists out there.”

Nanami stiffened at the thought of you fucking yourself on a replica of his cock in front of thousands of people twice a week; drooling and panting as you told your viewers how big he was, how good he felt inside of you. With his restraint brought to its limits, he fucked his fist carelessly, his attention fixed on the steady movements of your hips as you rode his toy. Your eyes didn’t flutter closed, this time – they clenched shut, and you couldn’t seem to keep your voice under control, little mewls and half-conscious whines bubbling up from your chest as you struggled to take that much more of him with every thrust. When you did manage to speak, your voice was uneven, whiney, so sweet it made him want to dig his teeth into something and tear. “I’m so close,” and then, as you brought yourself back down, so close to bottoming out, “I wanna cum!”

“You will,” Nanami whispered. He knew you couldn’t hear him, but it was true – you would, and if he’d been able to, he would’ve made you. He would’ve let you fuck yourself on his cock whenever you asked, would’ve woken you up every morning coming undone on his tongue and made sure you fell asleep with his cock buried inside of you. If you were with him, you’d never have to think again, never have to feel anything but pleasure – any time you wanted it, every time you wanted it. He’d make sure—

You didn’t moan as you reached the toy’s base, you screamed. One of your hands moved to the space between your thighs, two fingers rubbing quick circles into your clit as you nursed yourself through your orgasm. Nanami didn’t stand a chance, still chasing his fantasies as he spilled over his hand; searing hot cum pooling on his lap, soaking into the material of his shirt, spilling onto his desk. He didn’t stop moving his hand, though, not until you went limp – bending at the waist, bracing yourself on the floor. Finally, you managed to raise your head, flashing that brilliant smile towards the camera. Of course, Nanami smiled back.

In a daze, he watched you ease yourself off of the toy and wrap up your stream, so familiar from your script that he would’ve been able to recite it with confidence. Even after you signed off, the screen going black, he didn’t move, only letting his head roll to the side with a shallow sigh.

It was pathetic, just how much he loved you. It was painful, being so far from someone who made him feel so irrationally happy.

He could only count the days until he wouldn’t have to limit himself to only watching from a distance any longer.

There was a man in your apartment.

A man you didn’t want to be in your apartment, just to be clear. You’d heard the front door open, seen a bulky silhouette moving through your living room, and now, you were listening to him riffle through your bedroom as you hid in the en suite bathroom – crouched in the smallest corner you could find with both hands locked over your mouth, trying to stifle the sound of your own breathing. The door was locked, but that didn’t matter. You didn’t want to find out how much a thin sheet of wood would do to protect you. You didn’t want to give him a reason to acknowledge you at all.

As far as you could tell, there was only one intruder. You could only hear one pair of muffled footsteps, with second-long gaps between every little movement. The air caught in your throat as you heard him edge closer, closer, then pause. There was a dull clack, the sound of metal clashing against plastic, and you relaxed, sighing into your palms. Your filming equipment. It was expensive, but nothing you couldn’t replace. If you were lucky, he’d take what he could carry and leave.

And that was what he seemed to be doing, too – more rustling interrupted every so often by a few moments of heart-wrenching silence. Soon enough, you heard the intruder start to move again, his footsteps edging closer to the bathroom door as he moved to leave your bedroom entirely, and—

“(Y/n)?”

Fuck.

You didn’t say anything, holding your breath and digging your nails into your cheeks, willing yourself not to move, not to think. You didn’t make a sound, you couldn’t have, and yet he kept talking.

“I know you’re in there. Please, come out.”

He couldn’t know. He couldn’t know. You’d kept the lights off, and you hadn’t moved in minutes, and—

He tried the knob, and something cracked deep inside of your chest. There was an airy sigh, then a dull thud, like he was leaning against the door frame. “Please,” he repeated, sounding more exasperated than angry. “I don’t want to scare you.”

“Y-you can take whatever you want,” you stuttered, your voice unsteady, just a touch louder than it really had to be. That was fine. You didn’t have to pretend to be brave, so long as you made it out of this alive and uninjured. “I won’t call the police – I can’t call the police, I left my phone in the kitchen. You can take it, too. I… I don’t have a lot of cash, but my camera, it should be worth—”

“I don’t want your camera, love.” If you hadn’t known better, you might’ve thought he sounded wistful. “Come out, or I’ll break down the door.”

Honestly, it hadn’t occurred to you that he could.

It took a second to pry your hands off of your face, and another to push yourself to your feet – your legs shaking as you struggled to stand. Almost mechanically, you moved towards the door; unlocking it in the same motion as you pulled it open. Light from your bedroom spilled into the entryway, revealing—

God.

He was taller than you’d expected him to be.

Six feet at least, with a build to match. The sleeves of his dress-shirt were rolled up to his elbow, showing off arms so muscular, you wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d planned to tear your door off its hinges with his bare hands. He had a duffle bag slung over his shoulder, visibly full, but you could still see your equipment standing untouched behind him, and you couldn’t imagine anything else he would’ve wanted to take. His blonde hair was swept back, out of his eyes, and he was holding a butcher’s knife in his right hand, the blade wrapped in leopard-spotted fabric. Surprisingly, though, his weapon wasn’t what concerned you the most.

He was smiling. No, actually, that wasn’t right.

He was beaming.

“(Y/n),” he said, again. You didn’t let yourself wonder why he knew your name. “I—I’m sorry, I should’ve introduced myself earlier. I might’ve gotten a little carried away – I’m sorry if I frightened you.”

“…it’s okay,” you managed, your voice barely audible. “Are you going to kill me?”

His expression dropped. “No. Of course not.” And then, after a brief lapse, “I’d never hurt you. I…” You saw his right hand flex around the grip of his knife, and thought you might black out. “I’m a fan.”

Instantly, you felt the blood freeze in your veins.

Fuck. Fuck.

You knew you should’ve gone into accounting.

“I… You’re a fan?” You tried to smile, but it might’ve come across more pained than relieved. “I’m sorry, I’m not used to meeting people who’ve caught my stream. Should I know what to call you?”

And just like that, his grin was back, any momentary tension assayed. You wished he would’ve put down the knife, too, but beggars can’t be choosers. “Kento,” he said, and for the first time, you noticed the pink hue creeping over his cheeks. “Nanami Kento.”

You grit your teeth as you struggled to place him. After a second, it came to you.

Kento. Right. The dildo guy.

Somehow, knowledge provided little comfort. Still, you soldiered on. “It’s really nice to meet you, Nanami.” You clasped your hands behind your back, rocking gently on your heels. “I—I’m sorry, I wasn’t expecting any guests. If you want to step out for a couple minutes, I can change into something more comfortable, and show you how appreciative I am for your—”

“I’m not an idiot.” He cut you off, still grinning. “You’re coming with me.”

You didn’t let your smile waver, either. “And, if I didn’t want to go with you…?”

“I’m afraid this isn’t about what you want, anymore.”

You meant to say something – opened your mouth and everything – but nothing came out. Your heart tightened in your chest, a not inconsiderable portion of your mind screaming for you to run, run, run. And yet, when he took you by the wrist in a feather-light hold, leading you through your own apartment and out into the hall, it was all you could do to smile and follow after him.

The first thirty minutes of the car ride passed in silence. Nanami – because you couldn’t stand to keep thinking of him as ‘that guy who bought you a dildo shaped like his own dick and paid you thousands of dollars to ride it live on stream’ – kept his knife in his lap, his hand falling away from the wheel and onto its hilt whenever you so much as took a deep breath. Eventually, your eyes fell to the clock built into his dashboard, and you broke through your paralysis with a nervous laugh.

“It’s a little funny,” you started, for lack of anything else to do. “I’d actually normally be getting ready for my stream, around now.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you watched him swallow, his jaw tensing. “I know.”

Great. Okay. Whatever. “I don’t mind, y’know,” you managed, before you could let yourself fully consider what you were going to say. “If it means we don’t have to go through with the whole kidnapping thing, I really wouldn’t mind sleeping with you – you can even take pictures, if you’d like that, or record, whichever you’d prefer.”

“That’s not what I—”

“I haven’t tried a lot of hardcore stuff, but I wouldn’t mind if that’s what you’re into. We don’t even have to go back to my apartment, you could just pull over, and—”

“That’s not what I’m interested in.” He didn’t raise his voice, but his tone left no room for protest. “I’m not going to… I’m not going to just fuck you once and leave you by the side of the road. I’m doing this for your sake.”

As if you’d willingly climbed into a maniac’s car. “I… I’m not following, Kento.”

“It’s for your own protection. Once I thought to look, it took me hours to find out everything about you.” He spared you a quick glance, that same uncanny smile. One of his hands left the wheel and, rather than moving to his knife, found your knee, squeezing gently. It took everything you had not to scream. “Imagine what someone could do with that kind of information. They could blackmail you, if they found your full name, or track you down if they pieced together your address. It’d be a miracle if they were only a stalker. It just wasn’t safe to let you keep going on that way.”

“Yeah,” you mumbled, more to yourself than to him. “They could even break into my apartment and abduct me at knifepoint.”

His gaze narrowed, but his smile only softened. Neither of you spoke for the rest of the journey.

After far too long and not nearly long enough, you reached your destination: a housing complex, leagues nicer (and more expensive) than your own rundown building. Calling them apartments would’ve been a disservice; they were more similar to free-standing condos, or miniature villas slotted just outside of the city’s more metropolitan districts. Without a word, you let him guide you into a relatively generic home, its only notable feature being the absolute lack of evidence of meaningful life within it. You wouldn’t have been surprised if it was a rental, leased exclusively to give him someplace to do… well, whatever he planned to do to you. It’d be more off-putting to know that someone actually lived someplace so vacant.

He led you through the empty halls and up a flight of stairs, keeping you in front of him and in his line of sight at all times. Finally, you reached the door he seemed to be looking for and, with a nod by way of instruction, let yourself inside.

Before you stood, puzzlingly, your own bedroom.

Or – the parts of it you could make out on camera, at least. The bed was the same size, the same model, made with the same sheets and littered with the same pillows, but the floor was covered in a harsh white carpeting, the surrounding walls soundproofed with suffocating black foam. Camera equipment identical to your own had been set-up at the foot of your bed, but an unfamiliar silver laptop replaced your own sticker-covered monstrosity. You didn’t see any chains, whips, or shock collars, which was good. You still didn’t know what the fuck was going on, which was bad.

Confused, you turned to Nanami as he crossed the threshold and rather conservatively, shut and locked the door. “There are clothes on the bed,” he explained, with a tone that made it difficult to tell whether or not he knew how weird this was. “A script, too. Memorize as much as you can.”

So he still expected you to stream. Or, that was what you hoped, at least – considering the only alternative was that he was planning to make an extremely elaborate snuff film. “I’m not used to using scripts.”

“You’ll manage.”

You didn’t bother trying to argue, only moving towards the bed and attempting to forget he was there entirely.

The ‘clothes’ he’d left for you turned out to be lingerie – the nice stuff, too, white and lacey and bridal with a babydoll cut. You glanced over his script (which, disturbingly, didn’t exactly not sound like you) as you got dressed and fixed your hair, doing the best you could without any of your usual supplies. You wouldn’t be able to reapply your make-up, but you’d put some on earlier, and—

You almost laughed at yourself, stifling a chuckle.

You’d been kidnapped, and you were worried about your make-up. If you got out of this alive, you swore, you’d never touch foundation or a ring light or a camera ever again.

He didn’t have to tell you when it was time – you would’ve known by instinct alone. With Namami watching from an armchair pushed against the opposite wall, you clambered onto the bed and took your usual position, kneeling in center frame. He’d never asked for your credentials, and yet, when you glanced towards the laptop positioned just underneath the main camera, you found that your own profile was already pulled up, a miniature timer in the corner of the screen counting down the seconds until you went live.

As it reached thirty seconds ‘till, it occurred to you that you were in a soundproof room alone with the man who’d kidnapped you and was currently holding you hostage, and that no one could’ve possibly known where you were or, more importantly, who you’d been taken by.

As it reached fifteen, you realized you were being held captive and being forced to wear bridal lingerie that your kidnapped must’ve picked out with the occasion in mind.

As it reached five, for the first time that day, you thought you might actually start to cry.

And, as it reached zero, you put on your biggest, brightest smile and hoped beyond hope that you’d stop thinking entirely, eventually.

“Welcome home!” Skipping over your normal grace period only felt right. You didn’t think you’d be able to survive sitting in silent, motionless suspension for another second, let alone a full minute. “Sorry if I seem a little nervous tonight – to tell the truth, I kind of am. I’ve got a major announcement, and I just can’t put it off any longer.”

Reflexively, your attention drifted first to your own feed – you looked perfect, as always – then to your chat, moving quickly despite your sudden start. You caught a few of the longer messages in your peripheral.

secretary.lover: Is it just me, or does she seem kind scared lmao?

blueeyeswhitedragon: yeahhh i thought her room looked kinda weird too lol

justheretowatch: fuck ur pretty

rapidfire: let me guess, another fake dick?

“I know I probably should’ve given you guys more of a warning,” you went on, fighting the temptation to break, to yell for them to call the police, to give up entirely and make a run for it. “But…”

You forced yourself to laugh, to beam, to clap your hands together in front of your chest like a schoolgirl – excited to tell her friends that she’d gone through with her first ever confession. “I’m getting married!”

You didn’t have a ring to show off, but you tried your best to preen regardless, to not let any amount of fear or discomfort or hesitation show on your shining expression. After a show delay, congratulations and well-wishes filled your chat (some genuine, others more reluctant), and you did your best to go on without letting the sizable knot slowly gaining mass in the back of your throat smother your voice entirely. “This is going to be my last stream – for a while, at least, until we get settled in. And…”

You tried to remember what’d been listed next in Nanami’s script, but your conscious mind was bogged down by a thick layer of buzzing static, your sense of improvisation dulled by a heavy dose of anxiety. Your eyes flickered to where Nanami was sitting behind your equipment, only to find that the chair he’d formerly occupied empty. You didn’t have time to panic before the edge of the mattress dipped under a new weight, and you remembered what you were supposed to say. “My husband actually wanted to cameo on my send-off show. I was a little hesitant—” Another dip in the mattress, this one much closer than the last. “—but he insisted. I thought you all deserved a chance to meet him, too.”

As soon as you finished, you felt a large hand on your shoulder, a sudden presence at your back. Your gaze fell back to your feed, your own image now accompanied by that of your captor – on his knees behind you, one hand on your shoulder and the other on your hip, the framing positioned so that his head was cut off just above the mouth. The lower half of his face was covered with a black surgical mask, and you had to stop yourself from frowning. You hadn’t expected him to be stupid enough to show his face on camera, but still.

Your heart dropped into your stomach as you felt his hand fall away from your shoulder, slipping underneath the lace camisole of your babydoll. You tried not to move, not to flinch, but you couldn’t stop yourself from jerking forward as you felt his hand slip under your bralette, the angular ridges of his knuckles visible through the thin silk. Despite everything he’d said about not hurting you, about doing this for your protection, he made no attempt to be gentle – the calloused pads of his fingers pressing into the curve of your breast with enough force to bruise. You bit back a whimper, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a sincere reaction. If you wanted to go home, you had to put up with this. He’d never said anything about pretending to enjoy it.

(In the back of your mind, you knew he hadn’t said anything about letting you go home, either. Still, you didn’t let yourself dwell on such discontinuities).

You should’ve known better than to think he’d attempt to follow the normal flow of your stream, and yet, it still caught you off-guard when his unoccupied hand found its way to the waistband of your panties, then to your clothed sex. You weren’t overly sensitive, despite how you might’ve acted in front of your viewers, but you were still on edge, still panicked, and while the adrenaline being held at knifepoint might’ve sparked was beginning to fade, having your kidnapper grope you on camera was enough to bring on a fresh wave. Reflexively, you pressed your back into his broad chest as his thumb traced over the length of your slit, pausing only momentarily to press into your clit with a dull, oppressive sort of pressure, biting down on your bottom lips to stop anything vulnerable and pathetic from escaping. If Nanami was affected by your stoicism, it wasn’t enough to stop him from pulling the flimsy material to the side entirely and slipping two fingers into you, your now-slick cunt providing humiliatingly easy access. In the same motion, the heel of his palm pressed into your clit, the friction immediately too harsh, too much. It would’ve been too much if he wasn’t touching you at all. It would’ve been too much if he was still sitting alone in his dark, empty house – getting off to the idea of degrading someone he claimed to care about so publicly.

It didn’t help that you were wet. Not dripping, sure, but wet enough for there to be an audible, slick clicking-type noise as he pumped his digits into you, never taking the pressure off of your clit. You could feel his cock pressed into your ass, already hard, already too familiar not to be nauseating, but he didn’t seem to be in a rush to move past your exhibition; his pace measured and experimental, his fingers prone to spreading apart and curling inside of you. To distract yourself, you moved your attention back to your chat, trying to pick out the longer messages between donation notifications.

user84343: girl i call dibs when you’re done with him

hotbox420: no seriously y/n are you okay???

bunnygirl69: still can’t believe you’re leaving us for him </3 can’t say i don’t see why tho ToT

absolutely.soaked: Blink twice if you’re in danger lmaoooo

“G-guys, I’m totally—” Your breath hitched as he forced another finger into you, the stretch now a touch past ignorable. His other hand kneaded at your chest, blunt nails scraping against tender flesh, and momentarily, you wondered if it really would’ve been so bad to take your chances and let him kill you right away. “I’m totally fine, I’m just—” His nails bit into your skin by way of warning, and you allowed yourself a single, stilted moan. “I’m just so happy that I finally get to—to—”

You didn’t know what you were supposed to say, but it didn’t matter. Nanami’s hand dropped from your chest to your side, his arm locking over your midriff and hauling you that much closer. You couldn’t stop yourself this time – whimpering as the tempo of his fingers sped up, as tears started to prick at the corners of your eyes. You glanced around the bedroom, searching for anything familiar, anything you could use to stabilize yourself, anything that you could start to find comforting. Instead, your eyes landed on the duffle bag he’d carried out of your apartment, the zipper now partially undone. You couldn’t see much, but you could make out the handle of a pink hitachi. It wasn’t difficult to guess what the rest of the bag’s contents looked like, what he’d spent so long riffling through your possessions to find.

It wouldn’t been pointless to try and hold back the crooked, ebbing sob that leaked past your lips. This time, when you turned to face your camera, it was with tears just beginning to spill and absolute terror written across your expression. “Call the police,” you managed to spit out, making no attempt to be subtle. “I—I don’t actually know this man, and this isn’t my apartment, and—“

It happened too quickly – like he’d been expecting you to do something so obviously short-sighted. You processed that he was pulling out of your cunt as you felt his fingers entangle themselves in your hair, and then your face was being shoved against the mattress, your body folding over itself as he forced you down. You tried to yell, tried to scream, but your voice was muffled by your own fucking comforter as you heard fabric shifting behind you, as you felt something warm and stiff and leaking align with your entrance. You refused to put a name to it, but that didn’t help. Nothing would’ve helped.

His palm pressed into the back of your head, his body slotting against yours as he leaned down, lowering his head so that he could speak directly into your ear. “I’m doing this for your own good,” he whispered, his voice muffled but still painfully audible. “I’m doing this because I love you.”

You didn’t have a chance to response. He was already inside of you – his cock filling you to your breaking point.

You weren’t sure if your viewers could hear you, but you hoped they could. It would’ve been a pity to sob so loudly for the sole entertainment of the sick, sick man currently rutting into you, grinding into your cunt from behind with a kind of animalistic desperation – all desire and no control. It was a struggle to stay on your knees, not to go entirely limp underneath him, but you doubted it would’ve made a difference if you hadn’t, that he wouldn’t have fucked your limp body just as enthusiastically. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could just barely see the monitor – the miniature image of Nanami’s body moving on top of yours, his blond hair still obscuring the other half of his face, and then next to it, your chat. If you’d been thinking more clearly, you wouldn’t have let yourself look, wouldn’t have let yourself fully acknowledge that there were still thousands of people watching you, but you weren’t thinking at all, and you would’ve given anything for someone to say something that made you forget where you were, just for a second.

sniper727: so the bitch likes it rough? hot

callmeanonymous: FINALLY!!! I’ve been waiting for some cnc rp for actual years.

blueeyeswhitedragon: hey i think i might work with that guy

hotbox420: yeah no i’m calling the cops.

Predictably, your efforts were grotesquely unsuccessful.

Nanami didn’t seem as bothered. The weight on the back of your head disappeared as his hands found your hips, pulling up as he straightened his back. For anyone else, it might’ve been an awkward position – holding up your uncooperative form while bouncing you on his cock – but no amount of unpleasant technicalities could’ve stopped him from burying himself to hilt with every stroke, keeping you in a constant state of mind-numbing fullness. You tried to talk, again, to call for help, but fractured mewls and pathetic whines drowned out whatever you might’ve said, and even those were put to an end as Nanami took you by the jaw, turning you to face him as his lips crashed into your – his mask either pulled down or discarded entirely, you couldn’t be bothered to check. The kiss itself was messy, rough, brutal, his tongue raking over yours as you sobbed unabashedly into his mouth – your connection only growing more chaotic as his hand once again found your clit and ground two fingers into the sensitive bundle of nerves. You knew what he wanted. You knew what he was trying to do.

And you couldn’t do anything to stop him.

With a ragged sob, you came undone around his cock, any strength you might’ve once had flooding out of your body and dripping down his shaft. Nanami groaned into your mouth, drawing back just far enough to bury his face in your neck and mouth meaningless nothings into your throat as he chased his own climax. He thrusted into you again once, twice, and then you felt pure heat pour into you – a new kind of torture that rendered you entirely senseless. You didn’t try to scream, again.

You were distantly aware of him moving, shifting, pulling something out of his pocket as he muttered a mix of ‘you did so well’s and ‘I love you’s into your skin. When you did finally manage to raise your head, you didn’t think to look toward the remote in his hand or your tattered lingerie or the cum slowly leaking out of your entrance. Rather, your attention landed on the same thing it always did during your streams – your monitor.

You’d never know why, but for whatever reason, you could feel your heart break in your chest as you realized that the screen had already gone black.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk imagines #yandere nanami #yandere nanami kento #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader

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maxtermind · 5 months

Text

my boy only breaks his favorite toys

★ : summary :: when he cheats on you ★ : feat :: max verstappen, lewis hamilton, carlos sainz, charles leclerc, lando norris ★ : genre :: angst ★ : word count :: 5k ★ : a/n :: please remember that all of this is fiction! anyway, enjoy the angst <3 cheating is not a slip up but a statement and i will not be writing a part 2 where they get back together :) as usual requests are open for other endings if you're interested (maybe she ends up with someone else on the grid to make it hurt more lol) ★ : gifs :: @\f1-stuff @\userhamilton @\slowestlap @\tyrannosaurus-maxy

Max Verstappen

Max and you had a pretty healthy work schedule. Thanks to your flexible remote work, you could travel with him and support him in person. But there were times when you were needed back at the home office but despite the distance, Max made sure to keep you in the loop.

From video calls, to texting whenever one was free, to random pictures shared, you were always pretty aware of what the other was doing. So imagine your shock when minutes after hanging up on a call after congratulating him on his win, you failed to get a hold of him before pictures of him started going viral.

But now, all of that seemed like a distant memory as you stared at the damning evidence on your phone. Pictures of Max, smiling and carefree, dancing with another woman in a crowded club, her arms wrapped around him possessively.

Your heart sank as you scrolled through the images, each one a painful reminder of the betrayal you never saw coming. And then, there it was, the blurry photo that confirmed your worst fears - Max and the other woman locked in a passionate kiss.

The world around you seemed to blur as well as tears welled up in your eyes, hot and bitter against your cheeks. Without thinking, you began to dial Max's number, your fingers trembling with a mixture of anger and desperation.

But each call went unanswered, each voicemail left unheard. With each unanswered ring, your heart broke a little more, until you could no longer bear the weight of your pain.

It was an hour later when you were in your bed, crying your eyes out when your phone finally lit up with Max's name, the screen casting a harsh glow in the dimness of your room.

As much as your head told you to hang up and let that be the final answer, you picked it up and whispered a low. ”Hi?” Your voice barely a whisper, choked with emotion.

”Y/N,” Max’s breathy voice came. It was enough to throw you off again and new tears gathered in your eyes.

”Where were you?” The words escaped your lips before you could stop them, raw with hurt and anguish.

”Baby…” Max's voice wavered, and you could hear the weight of his guilt in every syllable. It spoke volumes, you knew what had happened and he knew that. ”I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

Your chest tightened at his words, the pain of his deceit threatening to consume you whole. And then, without warning, a strangled sob escaped your lips, the sound echoing in the silence of the room.

You could hear Max's sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, a sound that only served to intensify your grief. But you were beyond caring about appearances now, your heart laid bare for him to see.

”I trusted you,” you choked out between sobs, the words a bitter indictment of the love you had once shared. ”Why would you do this to me?”

How could the man that made you feel like the only girl in the world for him do this to you? Did he even love you or was he just a really good actor?

Your voice quivered with pain as you struggled to maintain your composure,”You've broken me in ways I didn't even know were possible.”

Max's voice wavered as he tried to find the right words to express his remorse,”I never meant to hurt you, it was the biggest mistake of my life.”

The life he has made sure he spent with someone not you. His voice cracked further and you realized that he was also crying on the other end. ”I can't bear the thought of not having you in my life.”

There was a long pause, as if Max was searching for the right words to say. But what words could possibly undo the damage that had already been done, the trust that had been shattered beyond repair?

Your words cut through him, echoing the pain he had caused,”Did… did you even love me, Max?”

”Of course, I love you!” He spoke, his voice carrying a sense of hurt. As if questioning the audacity to even ask that and that angered you. It made you so mad because this was on him. He did this.

”I wish I could turn back time and make things right, I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Max's breath hitched as he spoke before you could. The wounds he had inflicted too deep to be healed with a simple apology. ”I never meant to make you doubt my love for you.”

And as you listened to his voice crack with emotion, you knew that there was only one thing left to do. ”I don't even recognize the person I fell in love with anymore.” You whispered with finality, your voice filled with a mixture of sadness and disbelief.

Was this really the man who had promised you a future filled with a family and laughter? The man who just made your heart bleed out?

Max caught on and rushed to get the words out,”Please, Y/N, don't hang up. I need you more than ever, I love y-”

You hung up because how dare he say that after what he did. He called you again and again after that and if you weren’t half dying in your apartment, maybe you could’ve scoffed at how the roles were switched.

However, all you could do was switch off your phone and wonder how the man who once kissed all your scars better, could leave deeper ones in their place. Leaving you to do the work to mend them all alone.

Lewis Hamilton

It had all started the day you had foolishly decided to set up lunch to have the two most important people in your life, your bestfriend and your boyfriend, meet.

Lewis seemed genuinely enthusiastic about finally meeting the person who had been such a solid support in your life. Little did you anticipate that this innocent gathering would unravel into a scene of deception.

The signs were subtle at first. A quick exchange of numbers, a glance shared behind your back– easy to dismiss as innocent. But why would you look for such signs? When it included your most trusted humans on the planet?

But then came the slips, the accidental mentions of knowing each other's whereabouts better than you did.

”I don't think she'll pick up, she said she had an afternoon meeti-” Lewis caught himself on time before shrugging and ending with a: ”She posted it on her instagram, did you miss it?”

You laughed it off though it irked you. You were just glad that they were close before...

After an especially tiring day, you finally entered your house. Surprised to see the sitting room empty, where Lewis waits for you every time he's home early.

You sighed, instinctively petting Roscoe before moving inside the house. Desperate for a shower and clean clothes to get the day's stench off of you.

So imagine your shock when you walked into your bedroom,to discover Lewis and Rachel entwined in your bed, their bodies exposed and vulnerable. In your bed.

It took a second for you to process it while they both scrambled to get their clothes on. You just stared in disbelief while Rachel cried on the bed under covers and Lewis frantically wore his clothes while saying… something?

You felt like you were underwater for a second because you saw his mouth moving before his words started registering and tears started to pool in your eyes. The pain felt tangible, like a weight pressing down on your chest, as you confronted the unthinkable reality of their infidelity.

”Baby, let me explain. Ple- Please, this isn't what it looks like... I-”

You tore your eyes away from him before looking over at Rachel who was crying because she probably understood exactly what was happening.

You wanted to ask what exactly Lewis thought was going on but decided not to because your throat was closing up. The image of them together was burned into your brain. You just shook your head as tears fell from your eyes before turning around and walking out of the room.

As Lewis desperately jumbled to dress himself, his hands fumbling with buttons and zippers, he pleaded with you, his voice cracking with desperation.

”Y/N, please, you have to listen to me. This isn't what it looks like, I swear,” he implored, his eyes wide with panic as he reached out to touch your arm, but you flinched away as if his touch burned. Feeling disgusted and deceived.

”What do you mean it's not what it looks like?!” you finally managed to choke out, your voice trembling with damage and betrayal. ”I come home to find you two... in our bed, na- naked!”

Lewis's face contorted in anguish, his mind racing for the right words to say, but nothing seemed adequate in the face of your devastation.

”It's... it's a misunderstanding, Y/N, I promise,” he stammered, his voice strained with emotion. ”Rachel and I... we didn't plan for this to happen. It's just... things got out of hand, and we never meant to do you wrong.”

You shook your head in disbelief because you didn’t know what else to do truly, feeling as if the ground had been pulled out from beneath you. ”How could you do this to me, Lewis? I thought you… that you loved me,” your voice turned in a whisper.

All the times he had discussed the future rushed through your mind. He wanted to retire and repeatedly told you how he wanted to marry you. Your hands trembled as you suddenly remembered asking Rachel to be your bridesmaid.

Suddenly, the pressure on your chest got worse.

Lewis's eyes pleaded with you, his voice barely a whisper as he struggled to find the right words. ”I don't know, Y/N. I don't know what came over me. I love you, you have to believe me. Please don't leave, we can work through this together.”

But his words fell on deaf ears as you turned away from him, the pain in your heart too raw to bear. ”I trusted you, Lewis. I trusted both of you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

As you moved towards the door, every step heavier than the last, Lewis's voice trembled with desperation, his hands reaching out to grasp yours, pleading for your attention.

”Y/N, please, don't leave,” he begged, his voice cracking with raw emotion. ”I messed up, I know I did, but I love you. Please, let me make it right.”

You paused, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. ”How can you say you love me after what you did?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper, thick with pain.

And with that, you turned away, leaving behind the shattered remains of the life you had once shared, the echoes of Lewis's pleas fading into the emptiness of the night. Swearing to never put your trust in anyone else ever again.

Carlos Sainz

You had sworn off of relationships for so long after your last one that it was honestly a miracle, as your friends and family put it, that you agreed to go out with Carlos. But he was the perfect gentleman to you. The person who gave you hope for a better future. Giving you hope that maybe all the ‘cheesy’ discourse was for you too.

He knew how you were hurt the last time and reassured you about how special you were to him and how you were always enough. Enough for him.

It slowly became a running joke once you guys hit the two year mark. You were finally at a stage where you had a loving partner that you could trust blindly.

So to say that you were blindsided would be an understatement…

Your fingers trembled as you scrolled through Carlos's phone, your heart racing with each new message that appeared on the screen.

You never thought you'd be the type to snoop, but the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach had become too much to ignore. He was so distant lately and so secretive about his phone, it was slowly killing you.

There it was, undeniable proof staring back at you in blue and white. Messages from an unknown number, filled with suggestive language and promises of secrecy. Your breath got caught in your throat as you read through the damning evidence, your heart sinking with each word.

‘Hey babe, can't wait to see you tonight ;) xoxo’

The message hit you like a punch to the gut, your mind reeling with disbelief. How could Carlos do this to you? You thought you had something special, something worth fighting for. But now, all those hopes and dreams lay shattered at your feet.

You tried to push down the rising tide of emotion, to find some innocent explanation for what you were seeing. But deep down, you knew the truth – Carlos was cheating on you.

When he emerged from the bathroom, you were waiting for him, phone in hand and tears in your eyes. And as you looked into his eyes, you knew that nothing would ever be the same again.

”Carlos,” you whispered, the weight of your words heavy in the air as he stepped into the room, his tousled hair and relaxed demeanor a stark contrast to the turmoil raging inside you.

You weren’t really sure why you weren’t screaming and thrashing things around already. It was like you were frozen on the spot.

”What's wrong?” he asked, concern etched into his features as he took in your tear-streaked face and the phone clutched tightly in your hand. Though, when you looked at him, all you could see was how he was your everything. How you had given him your everything.

And you still weren’t enough.

You struggled to find the words, to articulate the emotions coursing through you. ”I found... I found something on your phone,” you finally managed, your voice trembling with emotion.

Carlos's expression faltered, his eyes flickering with uncertainty as he took a hesitant step closer. ”What do you mean?” he asked, his voice tinged with apprehension.

You took a shaky breath, steeling yourself for the confrontation to come. ”Messages,” you began, your voice barely audible as you held up the phone, displaying the incriminating evidence for him to see. ”From someone... someone you've been seeing behind my back.”

Carlos's eyes widened in shock as he stared at the screen, his hand instinctively reaching out to take the phone from you. ”Y/N, I swear, I can explain,” he stammered, his voice tinged with desperation. Why was he reaching for the phone and not your hand?

But the words fell on deaf ears as the full weight of his betrayal hit you like a ton of bricks. ”Explain?” you echoed, your voice trembling with disbelief. ”How can you even explain this, Carlos? How could you do this to me?”

He reached out to touch you, to offer comfort or reassurance, but you recoiled, the sting of his infidelity too raw and painful to bear. ”I trusted you,” you choked out, tears streaming down your face as you backed away from him. ”How could you-”

Can love like this be lost too? You’ve been on your knees begging the universe to grant you one love that wouldn’t be snatched from you. Thinking all your prayers had been heard only for him to do it too.

Carlos's expression crumbled as he watched you retreat, his own anguish mirroring yours. ”I never meant for this to happen,” he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. ”Please, Y/N, give me a chance to make things right.”

As Carlos pleaded with you, his words heavy with desperation, you couldn't help but feel a pang of doubt. His promises of love and devotion clashed with the evidence on his phone, leaving you torn between the man you thought you knew and the painful truth staring back at you.

You met his gaze, seeing the desperation etched into his features as he struggled to make you believe him. ”Can you hear me?” he implored, desperation lacing his words. ”You are always enough for me. Please, you have to believe me. I love you more than anything, Y/N.”

His words pulled at your heartstrings, the sincerity in his voice almost convincing you to give him another chance. But deep down, you knew that trust once broken was not easily repaired.

You met his gaze, feeling the weight of his plea bearing down on you. ”I hear you,” you replied softly, nodding through your tears, your voice tinged with sadness. ”But it's not that simple, Carlos. I want to believe you, but...”

Carlos's grip on you tightened, his body pressing against yours as he sought solace in your embrace. ”Please, don't leave,” he whispered, his voice filled with desperation. ”I'll do anything to make this right, to prove to you that you're the only one for me.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you pulled away, the pain of betrayal still raw and agonizing. ”No,” you murmured, your voice barely audible above the sound of your breaking heart. ”You did to us. You made me believe… I'm leaving. This is goodbye.”

With that, you turned and walked away, leaving Carlos standing alone in the wreckage of your brutally murdered relationship.

Charles Leclerc

You had rushed back home because for the first time in what feels like forever, your boyfriend was back home. Charles was a man of many charms. Despite being with him for so long, he still had you blushing and getting butterflies every time he was around.

He was busy when you got home so you decided to wash up but as you paced back and forth in the living room, your heart racing with anxiety, you didn’t know what to do to figure out what exactly Charles was doing.

Charles had been on the phone for what felt like hours, his voice hushed but urgent as he spoke to someone on the other end of the line. Normally, you wouldn't think much of it, but something about his tone tonight had set off alarm bells in your mind.

You tried to focus on a book, anything to distract yourself from the gnawing feeling of unease in the pit of your stomach. But every word you read seemed to blur together, your mind consumed with worry.

Finally, you couldn't take it anymore. With trembling hands, you set the book aside and made your way to the kitchen, where Charles was still on the phone.

”...I can't risk it tonight,” you heard him say, his tone strained ”She's coming home soon, and I don't want to risk it.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. Who was he talking about? And why did he sound so nervous?

Curiosity getting the better of you, you crept closer, straining to hear the other end of the conversation.

”...I know, I know,” Charles continued, his voice growing even more frantic. ”But I can't keep doing this. It's not fair to her, and it's not fair to you.”

Your blood ran cold at his words. What did he mean, ‘not fair to her?’ And who the fuck was he talking to?

Before you could process it all, Charles abruptly ended the call and turned to find you standing in the doorway, your eyes wide with shock and hurt.

”Y/N,” he started, his voice wavering as he took in your expression. ”I... I didn't realize you were there.”

You struggled to find your voice, your mind racing with a thousand questions. ”Who were you talking to, Charles?” you managed to choke out, your voice barely above a whisper.

Charles' eyes flickered with guilt as he shifted uncomfortably under your gaze. ”It's... it's nothing, Y/N,” he stammered, but you could tell he was lying. ”Just a friend.”

But you weren't buying it. Not after what you had just heard. ”A friend?” you repeated, your voice rising with anger and hurt. ”Is that what you call my replacement?”

Charles' face paled at your accusation, his eyes widening in shock. ”Baby, it's not what you think,” he protested, but you could hear the desperation in his voice. He looked so scared, as if he knew he was gonna get caught up into lies.

”Then what is it, Charles?” you demanded, your voice trembling with emotion. ”Enlighten me.”

He hesitated, his gaze flickering away from yours as if unable to meet your eyes. ”It's... it's complicated,” he finally admitted, but his words offered little comfort.

”There's nothing complicated about cheating on someone you claim to love.” You were trying to compose yourself, not show him how deeply his words had cut you but your hands were trembling and your voice was cracking. Face pale and eyes glassy.

Charles winced at your words, his guilt written plainly across his face. ”You’re the only person I love,” he insisted, his voice barely above a whisper. ”It's just... things got out of hand.”

You felt like you had been punched in the gut. How could he stand there and try to justify his betrayal? How could he expect you to forgive him after this? Why the fuck was he the one looking distort?

”I trusted you, Charles,” you choked out, tears welling in your eyes. He shouldn’t be expecting you to treat him as a victim too when he was the one guilty. ”I thought we had something special.”

Charles' expression softened, his eyes brimming with remorse. ”We do, Y/N,” he said, his voice cracking with emotion. ”I love you, more than anything. Please, you have to believe me.”

But love now felt like a distant memory, tarnished by his infidelity. ”How can I believe anything you say after this?” You scoffed bitterly. Angry at yourself for crying in front of the man who has probably been sleeping with someone else for months now.

Charles reached out to you, his hand trembling as he brushed a tear from your cheek. ”I'll do anything to make it up to you, Y/N,” he pleaded, his voice filled with desperation. ”Just give me a chance to prove it.”

You whispered, your voice heavy with resignation,”There are no second chances for cheaters.”

Lando Norris

Because of multiple torments inflicted by past lovers, you were always resistant to fall head first in any relationship. Hesitant to give your heart knowing recovering was going to be the absolute worst.

Comes in, Lando. The man who broke through all your barriers, took down the walls you put around yourself and had you love struck in a matter of time.

For a moment, everything was amazing. He was the best person you could've asked for. He looked at you as if you put the stars up in the sky.

Who could've thought?

Who could've thought that the same fucking man would have you breaking down at a family event in front of everyone.

The room buzzed with conversation as you sat at the dinner table, trying to ignore the growing tension in the air.

Lando's hand found yours under the table, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your palm. ”Are you okay?” he whispered, concern etched in his voice.

You forced a smile, nodding faintly. ”Yeah, just a bit overwhelmed,” you murmured, hoping to brush off your unease. Why was everyone looking at you with such pity?

But Lando's gaze remained fixed on you, his eyes searching yours for any sign of distress. ”You know you can talk to me, right?” he said softly, squeezing your hand gently.

Before you could respond, a sudden hush fell over the room, drawing your attention to the commotion across the room. You followed Lando's gaze, your heart sinking as you saw him make eye contact with one of your cousins, their faces morphing as if they were having a whispered conversation.

”What's going on?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as dread coiled in the pit of your stomach.

You have seen this scene before and you did not like where this was going. Feeling overwhelmed, you got up and excused yourself from the table. Slightly glad to have Lando do the same.

This was all a confusion. You repeated in your head before standing outside the venue, away from distressed eyes and hushed gossips.

Lando's grip on your hand tightened, his expression unreadable as he turned to face you. ”I... I need to talk to you,” he said, his voice strained with emotion.

Your heart plummeted as you watched him fidget, every step feeling like a weight bearing down on your chest. ”What is it?” you asked, your voice trembling with apprehension.

Lando hesitated, his eyes darting away from yours as if unable to meet your gaze. ”I... I don't know how to say this,” he began, his voice faltering.

Just then, your cousin appeared at his side, her expression a mix of guilt and defiance. ”Y/N, we need to talk,” she said, her voice tinged with remorse.

They exchanged another glance and something in your mind stopped working.

Your breath caught in your throat as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, the truth hitting you like a sledgehammer to the chest. ”No...” you whispered, the word barely a breath as tears welled in your eyes.

Lando reached out to you as you took a step away from them, his voice a desperate plea. ”Please, let me explain,” he begged, his eyes brimming with regret.

But you pulled away, the sting of deceit too raw and painful to bear. ”Not you too,” you choked out, your voice breaking with emotion. ”How could you do this to me?”

There were no answers, no explanations that could erase the pain of their breach of trust. They both just watched as you started crying softly. Apparently everyone in your family knew too.

As tears welled in your eyes, Lando's pleading voice cut through the air. ”Y/N, please, just give me a chance to explain.” His hand reached out towards you, but you recoiled, his touch now feeling like a betrayal.

”Explain what?” you retorted, your voice laced with disbelief. ”That you cheated on me with my cousin?”

Lando's eyes widened in panic but instead your cousin's voice broke through the tension, filled with regret. ”Y/N, I'm so sorry. It was a mistake, it shouldn't have happened.”

Anger surged within you at her words. ”Sleeping with my fucking boyfriend was a mistake?” you shot back, incredulous at the audacity of her apology.

Lando stepped forward, his expression a mix of remorse and longing. ”I never meant to cause you any pain, Y/N. Please believe me,” he pleaded, his voice trembling with emotion.

Your trust had shattered along with your heart.

His voice quivered as he spoke again, desperation lacing his words. ”I love you, Y/N. I made a stupid mistake, but it doesn't change how I feel about you.”

But love now felt like a distant memory, tarnished by their adultery.

”If this is love, I want no part of it,” you declared, your voice filled with anguish. Knowing deep down that you meant it.

Your cousin reached out to you, her eyes brimming with tears. ”Y/N, please, you have to understand...” But understanding felt beyond your reach, lost in a sea of pain and betrayal.

”Understand what?” you cried out, your voice breaking with emotion. ”That my own sister betrayed me with my… my boyfriend?”

Lando's plea echoed in the air, his voice thick with desperation. ”I'll do anything to make it up to you, Y/N. Just give me a chance.”

But the chance had already been squandered, lost in the wreckage of their infidelity.

”You had your chance, Lando, and you blew it.” You wish you could be angry and put them to their places but your chest was hurting so much that it was almost dizzy.

You felt sick and on the verge of passing out.

”I'll do anything to make things right, Y/N. Just tell me what to do.” But there was nothing they could do to undo the damage that had been done, no words or actions that could mend the broken pieces of your heart.

They have insulted you in front of your whole family.

”There's nothing you can do to fix this, Lando. You've ruined everything,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you turned away, the weight of their betrayal too heavy to bear.

As you walked away, their voices faded into the background, drowned out by the deafening roar of your own heartbreak. And as you stumbled out into the night, the stars above offering no solace, you vowed never to let anyone break you again.

( writing masterlist \ main masterlist \ drop a request ) ©maxtermind // do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platforms.

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ponderingmoonlight · 4 months

Text

Slow kissing turning into aggressively making out with JJK men

Pairing: Gojo x fem!reader; Sukuna x fem!reader; Toji x fem!reader

Word Count: 3,5k

Warnings: no sexual content but it's getting heated y'all, not proofread because I wrote that in my break lol

Notes: no one asked for this but I delivered it anyway hehe

Gojo Satoru

It’s hard to keep your mind focused when it’s him who’s sitting next to you. Him, with the cheekiest mouth you’ve ever witnessed. Him, who always picks on you whenever he gets the chance. Him, who makes it all too clear for everyone around him that he’s the strongest.

Because that’s who Satoru Gojo is. Unlike you, an average jujutsu sorcerer who just happened to slide into the same year as him.

“Satoru, stop teasing her”, Suguru mumbles to his right, gazer flickering over your obvious uncomfortable face.

If there’s one thing you hate, it’s attention. Especially attention coming from someone who always bathes in the looks of others, who has no problem with standing in the spotlight constantly.

“I’m not teasing (y/n). I was just telling her that she looks great today. Is a man not allowed to voice his opinion around here?”, Satoru replies while pulling you in his arm and stroking your hair a little too harsh.

And despite the stinging fact that you are nothing compared against him, you can’t help but get excited when he enters the room, you can’t stop your heart from almost beating out of your chest when he touches you. Oh, it makes no sense that you fell for him. Especially you out of all girls around jujutsu high. How dumb to even dream of him liking you back someday when he’s surrounded by charismatic and jaw-dropping gorgeous women each and every day.

“(y/n) doesn’t look comfortable at all, though”, Suguru comments dryly.

Your cheeks redden instantly when both their gazes hit you with full force, eyeing you up and down until you see stars. It really shouldn’t make you this nervous to be around both of them. Why is it so damn hard for you to be the center of attention for a brief second?

“Get going Suguru, I have a mission for you. What are you doing there with (y/n)? I told you over and over again to leave that poor girl alone, dumbass.”

May the ground swallow you whole. Why is your teacher suddenly appearing as well? And most importantly: If he takes Suguru with him, does that mean…?

“I-I…should get going as well!”, you stutter while jumping up so urgently that a wave of nausea hits you.

Maybe it’s nothing but coincidence but somehow, you managed to never be alone with Satoru in a room. He must be weirded out by you already, there is absolutely no reason to risk him getting freaked out by your strange behavior around others.

“Why in such a hurry, (y/n)? Only Suguru has to go on a mission. Both of us are free today”, Satoru purrs next to you.

When his hand grabs yours and pulls you back down into your seat, there is no chance to escape. You stare blankly at your feet, sweaty palms now digging into your thighs. Without Suguru, you’re on your own. No distraction, no possibility to escape his stinging gaze and attention.

You should be excited about finally getting some time alone with your crush. After all, you laid your eyes on him even before joining jujutsu high. Being the daughter of a wealthy and usual mighty jujutsu sorcerer family meant always staying in contact with the family who inherited the honored one. When you were little, you enjoyed Satoru’s company because he never asked too much questions about you and always seemed unbothered by the stinging fact that you are weak. And surprisingly, his interest in you never wavered until this day.

You, on the other hand…

“You look like you’re sharing the room with a special grade curse. It’s just me, your best friend, the one and only Gojo Satoru! Why so nervous, (y/n)?”

Since you started to develop feelings for him like the dumbass you are, everything changed. Just the sheer thought of sharing a room with him alone sends shivers down your spine, feeling his gaze sticking onto you forces you to get all nervous and to act like an idiot.

You really are one hopeless loser.

“Actually, I’ve been waiting quite some time to finally catch you alone again. It seems like you’re avoiding that like the plague.”

Because you do. Being alone with him means risking that you’ll act all weird and maybe freaking him out forever. Even though you’ll never be with him, you don’t want to lose the connection you have with Satoru. No, you’d rather love him from afar than risking it all.

“Really?”, you mumble while staring blanky at your sweaty hands.

“We’ve been friends for so long.”

He slides closer, forces your heart to skip a beat.

“Right.”

“But two or three years ago, you started avoiding me and I wondered why.”

You swallow hard, eyes widen in sheer horror. “Right.”

“Until I realized.”

Your eyes drift towards his, meet the bright blue ocean of his uncovered orbs. Did he find out? No way, you always made sure to never let anyone know, to keep your feelings to yourself. How would he even get the idea that-

“You love me, right?”

Time stands still, you don’t dare to move a single inch. He knows. Gojo Satoru knows. But how? When? You are physically unable to ask him any of those questions. Instead, you sit next to him like his prey in desperate hope that he’ll lose interest in you if you don’t move.

“You love me, right?”

His piercing look almost kills you from the inside. No, you can’t escape him. There is no way you’ll get out of this room without answering him.

“Right”, you whimper.

“Oh thank god.”

You don’t have any time to react. Before you even realize what happens, he pulls you in and kisses you. Slowly, tenderly, soft and sweet.

Satoru Gojo.

He…kisses you?

For a second, you forget how to exist. This has to be a dream you never dared to allow, so far away from reality that you’d shake your head over the sheer thought. But the way he wraps his arm around your waist and places his hand in your nape is oh too real.

No, this isn’t a dream. Satoru is kissing you at this very moment.

“I had my eyes on you for what feels like forever. But when you stopped meeting me alone and avoiding me, I thought that I might have done something to upset you until I realized that you actually feel the same way”, he mumbles against your lips.

You can’t answer. Instead, you allow your shaky hands to rest against his broad chest. Oh, he feels just as good as you secretly imagined, his intoxicating smell tingling in your nose and making your senses go crazy.

Your lips start moving cautiously against his. In your whole life, you were never kissed, there was never a boy besides Satoru who caught your interest. And now it’s him. It’s really him who moves in synch with you, who places soft kisses against your desperate lips.

So desperate. You grab the fabric of the uniform tighter, make sure that he doesn’t escape. When you get used to the feeling of this sensation, your mouth starts moving faster on its own. You close your eyes, give in to the feeling that starts growing louder and louder inside your burning chest. All those years, you refused to even think about him. All those years, you buried your feelings six feet under. But now everything comes back to the surface. Now it seems like the control over your mind and body slips out of your fingers in the most delicate way.

Out of instinct, you grab his neck and pull him even closer. Your mouths collapse with each other over and over again, so heated that you fail to breathe. You slide onto his lap, allow your tongue to intertwine with his. Oh, you never expected this to feel so good, you never knew you were capable of feeling such a sensation.

When Satoru whimpers inside your mouth, you threaten to lose yourself completely. His hands roam around your body without an aim while you hold onto his strong arms for dear life. Unforgivingly, without any mercy, your lips crash into each other until you see stars.

“Fuck”, he breathes out.

Satoru is the first who gives up and releases his puffy lips from yours. Panting heavy, both of you stare at each other. Did this really happen? Did you really make out with Gojo Satoru like that? You, out of all people? Sheer embarrassment rushes over you like a wave. Out of instinct, you try to cover your face with your hands, to escape his strong gaze.

“No, don’t you ever hide yourself from me. Not after what we’ve just done. You are…absolutely gorgeous”, he murmurs.

“And I think I need to do that again.”

Sukuna

Your skin burns in sheer sensation where his fingertips tease you, his lips moving against your mouth oh too sweet.

What a coincidence that you met Ryomen Sukuna here at Shibuya. What a coincidence you’re now sitting on top of him while his mouth roams around yours so innocently. Soft kisses with Sukuna are something you never imagined the king of curses to enjoy. No, you imagined him rough in every minor aspect of his life, especially when it comes to his lover. Well, apparently that isn’t true. Right now, his lips brush over yours as if you’re porcelain that’s about to break, as if you are the most precious thing to ever exist.

“I don’t have that much time for you”, he mumbles into your parted lips.

“Why not?”, you pout while outlining his strong arms with your fingers.

Oh so gently, he starts placing soft kisses onto your cheek, your forehead, your ear. So tenderly that it feels like a soft breeze of warm air caressing you, so utterly peaceful that you’d never believe that this is actually him.

“I have something to do here. Who knows when I’m able to gain control over that brat again.”

His low voice vibrates through your whole body. Truth is, you missed your lover way too much to let go of him now. You haven’t seen each other for what feels like forever. Each and every night, you craved his touch, waited for the perfect opportunity to get him back. There is no way in hell you’ll let him go like that now after sharing only a few warm kisses.

You don’t give him an answer. Instead, you let your hips fall onto his provocatively, keeping his head in place while your tongue begins a play you know all too well.

Because even though the king of courses has an unexpected weak spot for slow and sweet kisses, you know exactly what drives him over the edge, what he needs to lose his mind to your mouth.

Your lips crash against his without any mercy, tongue teasing him so violently that a moan escapes the usual so composed man. A curse who never even thought about love and affection, a man destined to kill each and everyone who stands in his way.

Except you. Somehow you managed to light a fire inside him that cannot be put out without your help. Or better, your kisses.

“I missed you”, you purr between two passionate kisses.

“So so much.”

Automatically, he pulls you even closer, allows his muscular frame to collide with yours. Ryomen Sukuna melts like butter in your hands.

And you love it.

“What are you doing to me”, he mutters into your mouth.

“You want me to leave?”

You part your lips from his ever so slightly. One innocent movement, just the sheer thought of pulling away from him with an outcome you know so well.

In an instant, you feel Sukuna’s arms wrapped around you even tighter while his tongue teases you until you can’t breathe anymore.

“Who said you’re allowed to leave?”, he grumbles.

“Stay right here”, he hisses while shoving his tongue into your mouth again.

His hands grab your face when he suddenly starts slowing down his movements again.

“Please”, he adds along with a soft kiss on your forehead.

Toji Fushiguro

You are screwed. Completely fucked, lost, in big trouble.

And the man who’s responsible for all that mess is grinning right into your face.

To be honest, you heard rumors about him. A man who isn’t able to produce cursed energy, who is so unbelievably strong despite it. A bounty hunter who kills jujutsu sorcerers when it’s decently paid, nothing but a troublemaker.

And hot. God, just the way he smirks at you makes your knees go weak-

Focus, this is goddamn serious.

“Would you mind removing that blade from my friend?”, you question dryly.

Now is not the time to thirst over someone who just pierced through your comrade. Well, the honored one, to be exact.

“Why? He’s your boyfriend?”, the man bites back with his sensual low voice.

“Hell no”, you reply a little too quick and disgusted.

“But I still care about him enough to ask you this.”

The unknown force of a man tilts his head before pulling the blade out of Gojo.

“I don’t need your help, (y/n).”

“You sure about that? Let me take over.”

“You? Don’t be ridiculous.”

Gojo’s stupid comment makes your blood boil almost instantly. Who does this guy even think he is? Just because he was lucky enough to get born with immense powers doesn’t mean you aren’t a decent jujutsu sorcerer yourself. Apart from the stinging fact that you are a woman.

And you’re definitely able to feel the stranger’s eyes all over you.

“Are you hard of hearing? Get lost and make sure Riko arrives at Tengen-sama’s safe”, you hiss through gritted teeth.

“And missing all the fun and fighting? Hell no.”

“Being alone with ya actually doesn’t sound bad”, the stranger replies with a smirk.

“What the hell would you want from her?”

“Seems like your dumb blue eyes aren’t useful after all, brat.”

Oh, how much you try to stop yourself from grinning ear to ear like an idiot and your cheeks to blush.

“Was that a compliment?”

It doesn’t matter, though. You can’t fuck this mission up. Something about his appearance tells you more than urgently that if that man gets close to Riko…

You have to prevent this. No matter what it costs.

“Depends. Did it work?”, the stranger replies.

Fuck, you hate the way your heart almost beats out of your chest. Or…do you?

“Who knows”, you purr.

His eyes all over you, take in your appearance with so much force that you feel like fainting for a second. Is that man flirting with you?

“I’m the one you’re fighting against.”

“I’m not interested in a spoiled brat like you. Get lost.”

He makes it look so easy. Grabbing Gojo by the throat mid-air, slamming his body into multiple nearby buildings. All of this without a single spark of cursed energy. All of this only by the sheer force of his muscular arms. Fuck, those forearms…

“So, watcha say, princess? Are ya in for chilling together?”

You feel like dying and flying at the same time. That fucking man was able to send Gojo straight to heaven with one arm. There is no doubt in the fact that he’d be able to kill you without you even noticing a single thing.

You bite your lip when your eyes start wandering around his toned torso and tight black shirt. But isn’t it your mission to do everything possible in order to keep Riko save? Especially when it means getting physical with a man like him. His eyes tell you that you need to keep him entertained if you stick to your plan. What could a girl like you possibly offer a guy like him?

“Depends on your definition of chilling. I’m not staying here for nothing.”

This is a dangerous game. One wrong movement, one unwise word and you’re dead without even Gojo being able to protect you.

“First tell me what’s yours. Any hidden talents apart from that whole jujutsu stuff?”

He roams around you like a hunter around its prey, eyes getting darker and darker each time they meet your gaze. Oh, this question definitely points to places you’ve never been before, so dirty and rough that you never allowed your thoughts to travel there.

“Maybe we need to find out”, you hum.

Your voice doesn’t sound like yours anymore. Like in trance, you give the unknown man in front of you dirty looks. This is for the mission exclusively.

Right?

“I know you’re trying to distract me. But fuck that and have some fine before I kill that brat.”

You force yourself to breathe out slowly and controlled. Of course, he wouldn’t fall for that. Someone who’s here to kill the plasma vessel and managed to slice through Gojo like through butter isn’t someone to be messed with.

Like in slow motion, you watch as he draws closer. He builds himself up in front of you with his shadow hanging over you threatful.

But those lips. Those oh so kissable lips paired with that handsome face of his.

“Scared?”, he mutters while mocking down at you.

A deep breath in. A deep breath out. Before you’re able to convince yourself otherwise, you press your lips against his.

Almost instantly, he grabs you by the waist and pulls you closer. But apart from the rough kiss you expected, his lips caress yours in the softest way possible. Gently, he holds onto your face while embracing you in a way you’ve never felt before.

Fuck, why does this have to be so good? Why was everything you expected from that man a steamy make-out session?

Your knees threaten so fail you when every minor movement of his mouth sends shivers down your spine. This shouldn’t feel so good, you shouldn’t melt like butter in his rough hands.

But you can’t help it.

“You definitely taste good”, he mumbles into your parted lips.

Your cheeks heat up in an instant. If someone would have told you you’d end up making out with a hot stranger to stop him from killing Riko and Gojo today, you would have called them insane.

And yet, here you are. Getting showered in soft kisses and held in a way you’ve never felt before.

“Gimme more, princess.”

Slowly but surely, the urge to feel him even closer, better, faster becomes unbearable. You grab him by his hair and pull him down while your mouth picks up the pace on its own. This isn’t enough. You need to feel him better than this.

“Fuck.”

A moan escapes your lips before you can stop it, hands wandering around his body without an aim. Oh, your lips never swelled up like that, never burned in such a sensation before. Fuck slow-kissing, fuck holding yourself back. Why would you ditch that opportunity when it’s clear that he wants you as well?

The stranger’s arms wrapped themselves around you tightly, leave you no room to escape. Over and over, your lips collide with each other until you feel dizzy.

“Sorry for interrupting your little make out session, but are you out of your fucking mind, (y/n)?”

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You know that voice all too well.

“Huh, should have killed you right on the spot”, the stranger remarks with his dark eyes still set on you.

“What a waste of time. Wait for me here, princess. I’ll be back when I killed that brat and the vessel.”

He lets go of you as sudden as he grabbed you, leaves your body aching for his touch and your mind racing back and forth.

“You can’t kill them!”, you shout after him.

“And I don’t even know your name.”

“The name’s Toji Fushiguro, princess.”

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wh1msic4lwasab1 · 5 months

Text

⋆˚࿔ 𝐈𝐭’𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

synopsis: hoyov. dragons in heat + preferred positions and when they’re most desperate

tags: face riding, cunnalingus, overstimulation, 69

wrd cnt: 0.7k

a/n: repost/rewrite from first acc!

Neuvillete

Neuvillette, can barely handle finishing his workday without you around. He tells himself he'll run back to you at the end of the day and cherish every part of you...after all the cases are looked over of course.

He caves, just like the last time. Seeing you walk into his office felt like salvation, and it tasted even sweeter. Well, you, tasted even sweeter. It didn't take him long until he pulled you onto his lap, letting you feel his members against your clothed cunt.

As soon as it was too much to bare, he threw you onto the table; the documents splayed out now irrelevant after a much more important matter was presented. As much as Neuvillette wanted to take his time, he couldn't help folding up that pesky skirt to your hips and pulling your panties off, throwing them off to the lamp where they hung like decoration, as his lips kissed your clit before his tongue circled it, sucking and tugging on it so eagerly it made you spasm as you gently pull on his hair, his palms holding your hips open for his face to delve the deepest it could into your cunt. He felt your legs shake and twitch as your back arched against the hard wood of his desk, as he stroked his self under the desk. His cum wouldn't stop leaking out, dripping onto his knees and even the floor as he moaned into you; considering pushing his entire schedule until later just so he could stuff them both into you.

Zhongli

Zhongli, whose most difficulty in restraint is when he's first awake. His heat basically wakes him up itself, like an empty and starving stomach, he needs relief immediately. Glancing to his left to see your perfect warm face, hair cascaded over the pillow and the blanket barely covering your indulgent figure; you were his antidote.

It starts so innocently, waking up with a gentle greeting and kisses to your head and cheek, but don't you dare kiss him on the lips so early in the morning. Not during this week.

On the chance you did, he'd have you struggling to fit both his cocks into your mouth while he shoved his tongue into your sloppy hole. He loved how your pliant body sat right above his face, smelling your sweet scent when he buries his face in it, the dripping arousal from your pussy coating his mouth and cheeks, hearing your desperate moans while he coaxed them out of you. Loud whines and mewls falling past your lips as he became drunk on your taste, his hands leaving prints on your hips in the process.

Dan Heng

Dan Heng, never thought he'd become so needy and clingy to someone like this. After his true form had expressed itself, old issues started to arise that he thought he'd be able to handle on his own; not wanting to rely on you for his behavior. But how could he? When you leaned over his shoulder to greet him with a kiss on the cheek, when you let your hand rest on his waist after each hug, how he just wishes he could suppress all his dragonly urges to push you against the wall and drain you of all your essence.

But all he can do is wish.

It's almost midnight, and Dan Heng is just barely getting started as he's licking up all the remnants of your squirting warm cum that's painted his face. Legs shaking and lips quivering, you feebly grind your pussy onto his soft tongue.

His groans following your hips, steadily tonguing your clit, pumping his slender fingers in your cunt as his tail wraps itself around your thigh; keeping your legs wide open for him. His tail tightening its grasp, not wavering, as Dan Heng loudly groans, licking your clit faster as he’s chasing his own high.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

#jo’s posts #genshin smut #hsr smut #neuvillete x reader #neuvillette smut #neuvillete #genshin neuvillette #neuvillette genshin #neuvillette #neuvilette genshin #zhongli smut #zhongli x reader #zhongli #dan heng smut #dan heng #il dan heng #il dan heng smut #imbibitor lunae #dragon smut

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pedrospatch · 6 months

Text

fall into temptation | three

Jackson! Joel Miller x Preacher’s Daughter Reader

series masterlist

summary: Of all the women to catch Joel Miller’s attention—it just had to be one of the goddamned preacher’s daughters.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. SLIGHT PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION OF READER, mentions of her hair which she can put up into braids as well as her style of clothing. despite the nickname Joel gives her, it does not speak to her body type or size. AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 56). several mentions of religion and religious symbols, reader has a father and two sisters, all who come with names, reader gets put into a a very uncomfortable situation, insecurity, anxiety, Seth is an asshole, protective Joel, he threatens to break someone’s jaw which is a warning in and of itself. SMUT. loss of virginity, reader is inexperienced but not totally clueless, oral (both m and f receiving), risky unprotected p in v sex (please wrap it up), lots of praise and pet names (baby, babygirl, honey, you know, the works), Joel gets a teensy bit rough, creampie, hint of aftercare, ends with a cliffhanger, but also not really if you think about it?

MOODBOARD FOR AESTHETIC PURPOSES ONLY, NO MENTION OF RACE OR BODY TYPE.

word count: 10k

a/n: it was not my intention to post this on jesus day, but here we are. this took forever and a day considering the second part was posted back in september, but i am so so proud of myself for finally completing a wip i could cry. i did a bulk of the editing while i’ve been sick and in all honesty i probably should have asked someone to beta for me because i think i coughed out like 90% of my brain cells this week, but i think it turned out okay. ish.

Somehow, even over the volume of the live music, you could still hear their hushed, astonished whispers.

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

“Is that Joel Miller with Pastor John’s daughter?”

“What’s she doing holding his hand?”

“He’s got to be at least twice her fucking age—”

Throat bobbing anxiously, you glanced up at Joel.

His shoulders were squared back, his head held high.

Solid. Steady.

Joel couldn’t seem to care less about the bewildered stares, the judgment that was being flung his way. Not once did he seem to waver. But you?

Oh, you were already starting to crumble underneath it all, on the verge of falling apart right before everyone’s prying eyes. Shame sat heavily inside of your chest, the weight of the feeling suffocating you, making it harder and harder to breathe as it prevented air from reaching your lungs.

It had nothing to do with Joel. Of course it didn’t. It had all to do with you and with who you were. Their beloved preacher’s sweet, innocent young daughter.

His youngest daughter.

Suddenly, the whispers were no longer whispers.

“Oh God, she’s not going home with him, is she?”

“That’s not right! Someone should say something!”

“Pastor John would never allow something like this.”

“Poor thing’s naive—she doesn’t know any better.”

Hot, stubborn tears of frustration glazed over your eyes and threatened to spill. It was as if you were a child who didn’t know any better, a gullible, clueless little girl with nothing in her brain who needed to be rescued—saved from the bad, bad man before he did bad, bad things to her.

Had it been anyone else, no one would have batted an eye. No one would have noticed, let alone cared. But it was you that Joel Miller was leaving the bar with in the middle of the night and it was you whose hand he had clasped in his own. That is what made it wrong. That is why it was a problem.

Everyone’s concerns had nothing to do with him at all, they had everything to do with you. You, you, you. You were the sole reason why it was a problem, the reason why he was being perceived as the Devil himself, horns out as he dragged the poor little unsuspecting angel down to the fires of Hell.

“Joel?” Overwhelmed, you instinctively reached for his arm with your free hand. Cold and trembling, your little fingers curled tightly around his bicep, digging into the firm, bulging muscle through the thick corduroy fabric of his sleeve. You whispered his name again. “Joel—”

“S’alright, babygirl,” he reassured you quietly over his shoulder. He gave your hand a comforting squeeze. “S’alright. Just keep your eyes on me, sweetheart. I’ve got you. You just keep on lookin’ right at me, okay?”

Nodding, you inhaled deeply and focused on him. Only him. The broadness of his back and his shoulders. Tufts of hair that curled over the collar of his shirt. Only him. He’s what mattered. He’s all that mattered.

“Almost there,” Joel murmured, squeezing your hand again as the door came into view. “Breathe, baby. We’re almost there. I’ve got you. You’re alright. Ain’t gonna let anythin’ bad happen to you. Promise I’ve got you.”

It wasn’t until his fingers wrapped around the old, brass handle that you finally exhaled the breath you had been holding out in utter relief, though it was very, very short lived. Just as Joel pulled the door open, you felt a hand wrap around your arm. Dry, slender fingers dug into the soft flesh above your elbow as an attempt, and a feeble one at that, was made to tear you out of Joel’s grasp.

The music stopped and the bar fell silent. Everything and everyone came to a sudden standstill, freezing mid dance, mid drink, mid bite, mid gossip.

Shocked, you glanced over your shoulder. “Seth?” you squeaked his name. “What—what are you doing?”

Seth didn’t acknowledge you. His focus was on Joel.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Miller?”

Joel’s anger couldn’t be seen, but it could be felt. So palpable you could have wrapped your fingers around it. It radiated off of him and loomed over the entire bar like an incoming storm cloud. Threatening. Dangerous.

“Where are you taking her?” Seth demanded, his other hand curling around your wrist as he tried, but failed, to snatch you from Joel’s side once more. “Let the girl go! You let her go right now, you hear?”

Caught in between the two men, you nervously turned to look at Joel. Nostrils flared, jaw clenched, seething eyes that did the talking for him. His message was loud and oh so abundantly clear.

If Seth didn't take his hands off you, he wasn’t going to have any hands.

Not after Joel Miller was through with him.

Blazing heat flooded your face. As if it couldn’t possibly get any worse, everyone had now gathered around you to watch the tense encounter, eyes wide, brows raised and jaws practically on the weathered, hardwood floor.

Tommy Miller stood among the crowd, subtly shaking his head, his lips pressed together in a tight, thin line of disapproval as he glowered at his older brother. Would he be looking at Joel like that had it been Esther in your place? If she was the one he was taking home? Would any of this be happening if it was her instead of you?

“Seth.” Uttering his name, you shifted your attention back to him. You sounded calm and collected, despite feeling anything but. Joel’s hand in yours was the only thing keeping you steady and grounded. His touch was the only reason you hadn’t yet spiraled into a state of panic. Clearing your throat lightly, you spoke again and tried your hardest not to waver. “Please let go of me.”

Still fixed on Joel, he spat, “I’ll be damned if I let him take you anywhere.”

“He’s not taking me anywhere, Seth.” Without thinking, the words came tumbling out of your mouth—loud and clear for everyone in that room to hear. “He isn’t forcing me to go with him. I’m making the choice to leave with him. Out of my own volition. Please let go of me.”

Finally, Seth looked at you. His old, worn features were twisted in disbelief. “What?”

You swallowed dryly. Part of you wanted you to shrink away, curl into yourself. Instead, you straightened your posture, forced yourself to stand a little bit taller. Willed yourself to have a backbone for once in your life.

“You heard me,” you said, lifting your chin in defiance. Several onlookers gasped in surprise at your rebellion. Where had this insolence come from? “I’m choosing to leave with Joel. Now, please let go of my arm.”

Behind you, Joel stood silent and still.

Watching. Observing. Waiting.

He wanted nothing more than to intervene. Rip you out of Seth’s hands and shatter each and every last bone in all ten of his fingers for putting them on you. Had Joel not realized that this was probably the first time in your whole, entire life you’d mustered up the courage to use your voice, he would have easily given into the urge. He wanted to protect you. He needed so badly to protect you. Yet, he knew you weren’t helpless or incapable of standing on your own two feet. He knew you deserved the chance to stand up and speak for yourself after a lifetime of being silenced, a lifetime of being forced to stay in your place, seen but never heard.

“Seth, let go of my arm,” you repeated. It was no longer a polite request. It was a demand.

He scoffed. “Do you honestly think I’m going to let you leave with somebody like him? You think I’m just going to stand back and let him take advantage of you?”

Oh, you hadn’t liked that insinuation, not one bit.

It caused something inside of you to finally give way.

Snap.

The blood in your veins boiled, ran hot enough to make you feel like you were about to burn from the inside out. “Joel isn’t taking advantage of me! It isn’t like that,” you seethed, furiously. The quiet, well mannered, obedient good girl everyone in Jackson knew was gone. And she could stay gone. In your periphery, you could see Leah elbowing her way through the sea of people to the front of the crowd with an incredulous look plastered on her face. She stood there beside Tommy, who appeared to be just as incredibly bewildered by your outburst. “Don’t treat me like I’m some child who doesn’t know any better! I’m an adult and I’m old enough to make my own choices, okay?”

For a moment, you had forgotten it was Seth standing there in front of you.

“I’m capable of making my own decisions! I don’t need you to dictate my life. I don’t need you to tell me what is and isn’t good for me—controlling what I should and shouldn’t believe in.” Your voice trembled as emotions you’d been suppressing for years bubbled their way up to the surface. Amidst the chaos, you could feel Joel squeeze your hand again, as if silently encouraging you not to lose your nerve. He was your anchor, the only person who could keep your world from capsizing. You knew he wouldn’t let you drown. Not even God, who you had always been forced to believe was your pillar of strength, had ever made you feel this protected. Safe. “I don’t need you to tell me how to live and much less when it’s the end of the world.”

It wasn’t Seth you were addressing.

It was your father.

Your father, who controlled every last thing, from what you would eat to the way that you dressed and how you wore your hair.

Your father, who refused to let you have a mind of your own, who simply could not bear the mere thought of you thinking for yourself.

Your father, whose love felt like shackles, heavy, rusted metal restraints that had been digging into the flesh of your wrists for far, far too long.

“You need to let me go now,” you said, swallowing back the lump in your throat. Once more, you caught Leah from the corner of your eye, your heart lurching in your chest when you noticed her desperately trying to wipe at her eyes with the back of her hand. She was the only person in the room who understood how you felt. Her rebelliousness only ever masked the pain of knowing her father’s love came with terms and conditions—and the fear of knowing what would happen if those terms and conditions weren’t met. For several weeks, you’d gotten a taste of what she went through everyday, how her fear of putting her foot down led her to run around in secret and live a double life. “Just let me go.”

Seth firmly shook his head. “No! I’m not letting you go anywhere with him. I don’t know what the hell he did to you, but he’s clearly got you all fucking brainwashed.”

That was fucking enough. Joel stepped in, lowering his voice as he said, “Y’know, I’ve just ‘bout lost count of how many fuckin’ times she’s asked you to let her go now and it’s really startin’ to piss me off.” Raising an eyebrow, he laid his offer out on the table. “Here’s the deal. You let go of her right now and I won’t shatter your fuckin’ jaw into pieces. That seem fair enough to you?”

“No.” Seth gripped your arm even harder, prompting you to let out a little yelp as his nails dug painfully into your skin. Though it’d been accidental and he hadn’t meant to hurt you, it didn’t matter. He’d just set off the ticking time bomb that was Joel Miller.

Furious, Joel snatched a fistful of his shirt with his free hand—the other still held yours. Gentle, despite being mere moments away from beating someone to within an inch of their life.

“Joel! Stop!” Tommy’s voice broke through the tension as he approached. His footsteps were slow—careful and cautious, as if he was afraid to make any kind of sudden movement. “Joel. Hey. C’mon now, let’s not do this, alright? Ain’t gotta handle things this way. We can talk it through. No need for anyone to wind up bleedin’ in the fuckin’ infirmary tonight, so just take a breath and let him go.”

Blatantly ignoring Tommy’s attempt to keep the peace, Joel tugged Seth forward, yanking him closer. “Listen to me and listen to me good ‘cause I ain’t gonna fuckin’ say it again. You’d best take your fuckin’ hands off her right now unless you wanna spend the rest of the night sweepin’ up your teeth off the floor of your own fuckin’ bar,” he threatened, his tone enough to send a chill up anyone’s spine, even your own.

“You wouldn’t dare, Miller.” Somehow, Seth managed to keep a straight face, but you could see it so clearly in his eyes and in the tremble of his lower lip—oh, he was terrified of Joel and rightly so. “Not in front of all these people. Not in front of your brother. That wouldn’t be a smart move considering you’re already on thin fucking ice for what you did to that boy’s face, now would it?”

Joel tugged him closer. “Test me,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Go on. Fuckin’ test me.”

His challenge was immediately met with a pathetic look of defeat. Seth dropped your arm and he was released.

“S’what I fuckin’ thought.” Without another word to the man, Joel whirled around and roughly pulled the door open, leading the way outside. As you both descended the building’s old, creaking wooden steps, you began to shiver and he suddenly remembered he’d left his jacket behind inside the bar. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “C’mere, my little dove,” he murmured as he tucked you against his side for warmth. “I’ve got you.”

The first thing he did was light the fireplace.

“Should start warmin’ you up, sweet girl,” he’d said to you over his shoulder. He tossed a log into the blaze as you sat perched on his couch rubbing your bare arms with your hands. “M’gonna go upstairs and find you a blanket, alright? You stay put.”

“Okay,” you’d mumbled, knowing there was no point in telling him not to fuss over you.

Even with the soft, fleece throw blanket he had draped around your shoulders and the warmth of the flames in front of you, you continued trembling. Subtle, but he’d noticed it, felt it when he had sat down beside you and pulled you close against his side. “Oh baby, you’re still shakin’?” That was when he realized you weren’t cold. Frowning, Joel rose to his feet and disappeared down the hallway. He came back to the living room a minute later with a glass of water in his hand. With a small, labored grunt, he dropped to one knee in front of you and held it out. “Here.”

“No, thank you.” You shook your head. “I’m not thirsty.”

“Maybe not, but I’m kinda worried you could be in a bit of shock, right now,” he stated, the creases in between his brows deepening as he observed you for any other physical signs of distress. Carefully, Joel lifted the glass to your lips, gently coaxing you to take a drink. “C’mon, darlin’. Think you can be a real good girl for me and at least take a couple sips? Hm?”

Sighing softly, you nodded and did as he asked of you, taking a small sip of water. It soothed your dry mouth and throat and you took another one. Maybe you were thirsty after all.

“Little more, now. Little more. That’s it. That’s my good girl.” Once he was satisfied with how much you’d had to drink, Joel set the half empty glass down on the oak coffee table behind him. He turned back to you, placing his large hands on either side of your thighs below the hem of your dress. He started tracing soft, soothing circles into your skin with his thumbs. “M’real proud of you for standin’ up for yourself back there, sweetheart. Took a whole lot of fuckin’ courage to do that, y’know.”

You glanced down at your hands in your lap. “Mhm.”

“Baby. Hey. Look at me.” One of his hands abandoned your leg and he reached up, delicately taking your chin between his thumb and index finger. He tilted your face upwards, his worried gaze meeting your own. “Talk to me. M’right here.”

“That—that was a lot,” you admitted meekly, shoulders sagging as the adrenaline started wearing off and your body slowly came down from the peak hormone rush. “It was a lot.”

Sighing, Joel’s hand fell away from your face. “Yeah, I know it was a lot, babygirl. I know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”

“No.” You were quick to cut him off. “Don’t be sorry.”

His chest heaved with another sigh, this one deeper, heavier, bearing the weight of his guilt. “Well I am,” he said. He planted his hands on either side of you on the couch and lightly shook his head. “Didn’t even fuckin’ think twice when I pulled you outta that fuckin’ supply closet and took your hand in front of all those people. I was so fuckin’ hellbent on showin’ everybody you were mine that I didn’t even stop and think ‘bout what all it would mean for you. It was selfish of me. Real fuckin’ selfish. And I’m sorry, little dove.”

“Do you regret it?” you asked, quietly.

Joel chuckled in spite of himself. “M’pretty sure I’m the one who should be askin’ you that question, darlin’,” he remarked. “Tell me. Do you regret it? Do you regret me pullin’ you outta that closet?” He momentarily paused. There was a stutter in his heartbeat when you dropped your gaze away from his, silence your only reply. “Do you regret me takin’ your hand in front of everyone?”

Of course not.

You wanted to be his and you wanted everyone to know it. There was no regret, none.

Still.

The consequences that you would undoubtedly have to face in the morning were overwhelming. Daunting.

Surely, by then, your father would know about you and Joel. When he came downstairs right after sunrise and he discovered you weren’t in the kitchen helping Lydia prepare breakfast, he would question where you were and make some kind of remark about how you should not be sleeping in this late. He would tell her just how irresponsible it was for you to ignore your duties and obligations to him and the family. Sloth was one of the seven deadly sins, after all. He would make her trek upstairs and wake you, and when she did, your sister would find your bed empty.

Meanwhile, there would be a knock at the front door.

No stranger to having members of the congregation show up on his doorstep when they were in need, be it of prayer or comfort, your father would answer it only to find someone, not in need of solace, but who felt that it was their responsibility and moral obligation to inform him that they had seen his youngest daughter leaving The Tipsy Bison with Joel Miller in the middle of the night, hand in hand.

He wouldn’t believe them.

“Now, that is simply not true,” he would say, offended that anybody would have the nerve to show up at his door and accuse you of something so vile. “That’s not possible. I know my daughter and she would never do such a thing. It must have been someone else that you saw with him. Someone who looked like her, perhaps.”

Then, Lydia would descend the staircase and tell him you weren’t in your bedroom. “She must have gone up to the main street as soon as she woke up,” she would suggest with a shrug, not yet privy to the events that had taken place the night before at the party you and Leah had snuck off to. She never had to worry about you, the good one. “I did notice we were running pretty low on eggs. Sugar, too. She probably wanted to be the first in line at the pantry to—Papa? What’s the matter?”

The color would drain from your father’s face when the realization slowly sank in. No, you weren’t out on the main street picking up eggs for breakfast and sugar for his tea. You were lying up in Joel Miller’s bed—defiled, impure, and with the curse of Eve on your flesh. Even after dedicating his entire life to making sure you did not stray from the path of righteousness, he had failed. You had fallen into temptation.

There was a chance he would have mercy on you. All you had to do was beg and plead for his forgiveness—and more importantly, for the forgiveness of God. “Vow to atone for your sins,” your father would say, his gaze fixed on the Holy Bible in his lap. He probably wouldn’t be able to look at you, not after what you had done. “Repent. And swear to me, child, that you will never so much as glance in that man’s direction ever again.”

No. That’s not what you wanted.

You wanted Joel and the freedom to be with him.

But that freedom came with a high, high price.

You were willing to pay it, but you’d be lying if you said you were prepared to navigate the consequences. Then again, was there really any way for someone to prepare themselves to be shunned by their own father?

“I can take you home,” Joel offered quietly, the sound of his voice taking you out of the future and bringing you back into the present.

“What?”

“I can take you home,” he repeated himself. “I can take you home right now if that’s what you want, sweet girl. Won’t give you any kinda grief ‘bout it.”

Confused, all you could do was stare at him.

“Listen to me, baby. You mean a lot to me. More than I can even begin to explain,” Joel reassured you before any kind of doubt could find its way into your mind. “I want you to stay with me. There’s nothin’ on what’s left of this fuckin’ earth I want more than for you to stay here with me. But what you want matters to me a hell of a lot more than what I want.” He reached up, lightly stroking your cheek with his thumb. “If you decide you wanna go home and go back to your family—back to your old man—then that’s where I’ll take you. Okay?”

Your father would give you an ultimatum. But Joel? He was giving you a choice. And he’d respect that choice.

“I wanna free you from your cage, my little dove. But I think we both know you’ve gotta make the choice to fly outta there on your own.” He lightly swept his thumb over your quivering bottom lip, his eyes meeting yours as he whispered, “Door’s wide open for you. What you do next is all up to you.”

“I’m afraid, Joel,” you confessed. A tear slipped from the corner of your eye and rolled its way down the side of your face. He was quick to wipe it away, along with the others that followed. “I do want out of my cage. I really, really do. But I’m terrified. All I have ever known is my family and my faith. I have never been apart from my father and my sisters.”

His expression softened. “I know you’re scared. Can’t promise you things will be easy, but there is one thing I can promise you.”

“What’s that?” you questioned, then waited with baited breath.

He gingerly cupped your cheek in his large palm. “I’ve got you,” he swore to you, just like he had done so back at the bar. “If you decide to stay, I promise I’ll take real, real good care of you, alright? For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of you. You won’t ever have to worry ‘bout a thing with me by your side. Swear it on my life.”

Warmth blossomed in your heartspace and finally, you stopped trembling. Lifting a hand, you curled your fingers around his wrist as your gaze fell to his mouth. “Joel?”

“What is it, darlin’ girl?”

“Kiss me. Please.”

With a gentle nod, Joel’s other hand found your hip, the warmth of it seeping through the cotton fabric of your dress. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against yours. It was a chaste thing, soft and innocent until you grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer to you. “Babygirl,” he mumbled against your lips. He deepened the kiss, sweeping his tongue through your parted lips and into your mouth. He tasted like bold bourbon and citrus beer. There was a faint hint of tobacco too—you recalled him admitting to you one night in the church house that while he wasn’t all that much of a smoker, at least not like he used to be when living in the zones, he would occasionally partake in the habit if he happened to come across a pack of cigarettes while out on patrol, pairing the nicotine with a drink. He tasted delicious. He tasted delicious because he tasted like yours.

You sank back into the worn, supple brown leather of his couch, tugging him forward so he sank in with you. Over you. Releasing your near death grip on his collar, you managed to wedge your hands in between your bodies and began to claw furiously at the buttons of his shirt, your fingers shaking out of pure desperation to feel him. It wasn’t until you were halfway down that he finally noticed what you were doing and leaned back, catching both of your wrists.

“Baby, wait,” he panted, shaking his head. “Don’t think now’s a good time for that—”

“Joel, please,” you pleaded, the intense ache between your thighs almost too much for you to bear. “Please. I want it. I want you.”

“S’been a rough night for you.” Joel’s voice was hoarse—strained, like he was aching just as much, if not more. “You’re real emotional right now. Vulnerable. Last thing I want is to take advantage of you at a time like this.”

You frowned. Had Seth’s words gotten into his head?

“You’re not taking advantage of me.”

“Darlin’ I just don’t think we should—”

“Joel, please,” you begged him again. “I was so good for you, was I not? Wasn’t I patient, just like you asked me to be?”

His lips thinned into a tight line. He wouldn’t be able to resist much longer. You, his beautiful little temptress of Eden.

“I waited for so long,” you reminded him. “I’ve been so, so good for you. Please, just make me yours already. I don’t want to think about anything else right now. I just want to be with you. Please, Joel. I need you so badly it hurts.”

Christ.

No man could stand it. No man could possibly have the strength to deny you.

With a look of utter defeat, he folded. Before he could say another word or make another move, your greedy mouth was on his, and you kissed him with fervor, with urgency, as you finished the task of unbuttoning his shirt. Pushing it off of his shoulders, the corduroy fabric fell into a crumpled heap behind him, nearly knocking the glass of water off the coffee table. You broke away from him and shamelessly marveled at his mouth watering form—you admired the way miles of smooth, tanned skin stretched over his wide shoulders, broad chest and soft, soft belly. Arousal pooled between your legs and you reached out and raked your fingers down his chest, and over his stomach, going lower and lower, following the trail of coarse, dark hair that led you to his brown leather belt. You clumsily started fumbling with the brass buckle until he caught your hands once more.

“Slow down, my little dove,” he murmured. “No need to rush this. We’ve got all night.” He stood up and held his hand out to you. Time blurred a bit—maybe it was your nervousness mingled with the eager anticipation of what was to come, but there seemed to be a small gap in your memory, a blank space that spanned from the moment you rose off the couch until the moment you found yourself standing in his bedroom where you were about to answer to the call of the flesh.

Dropping your hand, Joel switched on the lamp on his bedside table and kicked off his boots before taking you into his arms. “C’mere, honey.” He nuzzled your cheek with the tip of his nose as he spoke, the scruff of his beard tickling your cheek. “Couple’a rules, sweet girl. I do somethin’ that you don’t like, you tell me. You want me to stop, you tell me to sto—”

Without waiting for him to finish his sentence, you slowly lowered yourself down onto the floor and knelt at his feet with purpose, as if kneeling before an altar, a sacred, holy space. Though you felt anxious, you were eager to worship. “I haven’t forgotten about what I said earlier tonight,” you cooed, noticing the mild look of surprise on his face. “I said I’d make it up to you and I intend on keeping my word.”

All the blood in his body rushed south to his cock and it strained painfully against the crotch of his jeans. “Baby, I—” Again, he was cut off, only this time by the sound of his own groan when your hand brushed up the front of his thigh and over his growing bulge. He glanced down, his heart thrumming painfully hard against his sternum as he watched you reach for his belt buckle.

With all your might, you willed your hands so as not to tremble. It was self-explanatory, what you were about to do, but your total lack of experience sowed seeds of doubt into your mind—you wanted to make him feel good, just like he had made you feel good outside of the church house during services. Just how you knew he would make you feel tonight.

Hand still over his buckle, you pressed the tenderest of kisses to his bulge through his jeans. Then, turning your head, you rested your cheek on one of his thick, blue denim clad thighs and peered up at him through your eyelashes with a small, nervous smile as you confessed what he already knew. “I’ve never done this before.”

Oh, how sweet and endearing you were. Joel reached down and smoothed your hair back and away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. “S’alright, honey,” he crooned, grazing the silkiness of your cheek with his index finger. “I’ll walk you through it. Teach you how to be a real good girl and suck my cock just the way I like it. That what you want, my little dove?”

His filth made your cunt clench hard around nothing.

Slowly lifting your head off of his thigh, you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth and managed a clear, consenting nod as your hands fumbled with his buckle, the clinking sound of metal ringing loudly in your ears. You undid the button on his jeans and pulled down his zipper, your throat drying when you saw the outline of him, his size intimidating even behind the cotton fabric of his faded, black boxer briefs.

With a harsh swallow, you glanced up at him, silently asking him for his permission to continue.

Such a polite little thing, Joel thought to himself. “Go on, sweetheart,” he encouraged.

You tugged his jeans down to the middle of his thighs and hooked your index fingers underneath the elastic waistband of his boxer briefs, pulling them down and freeing his cock. There was a deep, swooping sensation in your belly as you watched it slap up against the lower part of his abdomen. After many nights of sitting in his lap, feeling him through his clothes, grinding your cunt down onto him, you thought you’d at the very least had an idea of what you would be in for, but oh, how wrong you had been. He was so much bigger than you could have imagined, and your stomach swooped again when you realized he was not going to fit. Anywhere.

Licking away the dryness of your lips, you take him in one of your hands, feeling the heaviness of his length in your palm. He was so long and so, so thick.

“Oh fuck,” Joel hissed the curse through gritted teeth, his hips jerking forward involuntarily as your touch sent a charged jolt of electricity shooting up the length of his spine. He looked down at you, his pupils blown wide with arousal. Christ. You hadn’t even done anything to him yet, but seeing you sitting so prettily at his feet was almost enough to make him come on the spot.

Delicately wrapping your hand around him, you found yourself almost in awe at the way your fingertips barely, just barely, touched. The sheer size of his cock dwarfed your hand, and made it seem so much smaller than it really was.

“You’re so big,” you murmured, echoing your thoughts. You licked at your lips again, suddenly feeling ravenous, an appetite that had seemingly come out of nowhere making you salivate. The tip of him was flushed red, slit already glistening—how badly you wanted, needed a taste. Never, ever, did you think you would be down on your knees for anything but prayer, but there you were, starved and desperate to bite into the forbidden fruit.

“What’re you waitin’ for, darlin’ girl?” he croaked.

“Permission,” you replied, sweetly.

“Go right ahead, baby. S’all yours—I’m all yours.”

Yours.

Yours, yours, yours.

Finding your first push of courage, you leaned forward and so carefully swept your tongue along the tip of his length, collecting the slight saltiness leaking from the slit and getting your first delectable taste. With your hand still wrapped firmly around his base, you looked up, your eyes locked on Joel’s face as you flicked your tongue up against the rigid underside of his cock.

“Fuckin’ Christ,” Joel groaned, all of the muscles in his stomach already pulling taut when he felt you dragging your tongue in a slow, purposeful lick along the length of him. “Babygirl.”

“Is that good?” you asked him, sounding hopeful. “Am I doing good?”

“Doin’ so, so fuckin’ good for me, sweetheart. Look so fuckin’ pretty down on your knees for me.”

Pleased, you wrapped your mouth around the head of his length, pressing forward and taking him in as far as you possibly could—which, in all fairness, wasn’t very far. At least not as far as you would have liked. Another groan tore itself from the depths of his chest as your plush, plump lips sealed around him, your tongue warm and wet on the underside of his cock. Moving both of your hands to rest on the sides of his thighs, you began to move your head back and forth, following what felt most natural to you. The nerves you initially felt slowly but surely dissipated, vanishing one by one with every curse, every tremble, every sharp breath.

Joel resisted the urge to buck his hips forward, fought the desire to feel himself at the back of your throat. He needed to be gentle, so careful with such an innocent, pliant thing who had much, much to learn. “Sweet little fuckin’ mouth feels so good around my cock, baby, just like I fuckin’ knew it would. Y’think it can take more of me, little dove? Hm?”

You hummed, the vibration intensifying his pleasure.

“Yeah? Y’trust me?”

Your reply came in the form of a muffled, “Mhm.”

Joel reached down and cradled the back of your head in the palm of his hand. He carefully guided you further onto his throbbing length, slowly feeding you one inch at a time. Your fingers dug into the denim of his jeans. He was much more than a mouthful for you, and you could only take about half of him before he hit the back of your throat, prompting you to gag around him. Drool dribbled out from the corners of your mouth and down the sides your chin, dripping onto your lap.

“Oh fuck, sweetheart. Yeah, that’s it. Little more now, honey,” Joel encouraged. He bucked his hips forward, his head slipping further down your throat. Just when you felt like you were about to choke, he pulled out and you tried your hardest not to cough and sputter as you took in a much needed, precious breath of air. He gave you a few seconds or so to finish catching your breath as he shoved his jeans and boxer briefs further down his legs. He stepped out of the articles of clothing and kicked them somewhere off to the aside, standing before you completely bare. “Open up.”

Your absolute devotion to him bred sweet submission, so as worried as you were that you wouldn’t be able to handle it, you nodded obediently and very willingly did as you were told.

He guided himself right back into your waiting mouth, pressing deeply. You tried to relax your jaw, reminding yourself to breathe in and out through your nose. Tears streamed down the sides of your face as you did your best to forestall another gag. “Little bit more,” he said, thrusting his hips in a slow, steady controlled rhythm. He advanced even further into your mouth—trusting he wouldn’t suffocate you, nor push you too far past your limits, you opened up wider. He moaned, “Yeah, baby. That’s my good girl. That’s my good fuckin’ girl.”

With a bit of newfound confidence, you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him. You swiped your tongue along the thick, prominent vein on the underside of his cock, earning yourself more of his sweet, sweet praise.

“Fuck, yeah, suck me off, sweetheart. This pretty little mouth was fuckin’ made for sin,” he breathed, guiding your head back and forth with a firm, but gentle hand.

You moaned, the noise muffled around his length. Slick soaked through your panties and coated the insides of your thighs. With another moan, you tightly squeezed your legs together, inwardly reminding yourself that patience was a virtue.

Noticing the way you had shifted, Joel moved his hand from the back of your head, lightly curling his fingers around your jaw. He pulled you off of his cock, a loud, lewd popping sound bouncing off the sage green walls of his bedroom. “C’mere, baby.” He grabbed your arms, effortlessly hoisting you up to your feet.

“What’s wrong?” you questioned him worriedly. “Did I do something wrong?”

Chuckling softly, he brushed a finger along the strap of your dress. You could do no wrong, his perfect, perfect girl. “Of course not, sweet girl. You did so fuckin’ good for me,” Joel reassured you, lightly tracing along your collarbone with his finger and making your flesh erupt in goosebumps. He leaned forward and feathered a kiss onto your lips, murmuring against them, “Are you wet, little dove?”

Before you could even process the query and generate some kind of coherent response, he dove his opposite hand between your thighs, cupping your warm heat in his palm. At this, your weak knees buckled, prompting you to reach out and grab onto his arms to hold steady and keep yourself from falling into a helpless heap on the floor.

“Oh, honey. You’re soaked. That what sucking my cock does to you?” he cooed. He peppered another kiss, this one onto the corner of your mouth. His voice lowered another octave. “Poor little thing. She needs me, don’t she? Needs me to take care of her?”

You whimpered. “Yes.”

“Manners, babygirl,” he reminded you, skimming your cheek with his nose. “Yes, what?”

“Yes, please.”

Humming in approval, Joel withdrew his hand from in between your legs and guided you backwards towards his bed. “Sit,” he commanded gently, bidding you to let go of him. “Arms up.”

Reaching for the hem of your dress, he took great care in pulling it over your head, then discarded the vibrant yellow material over his shoulder, leaving you in nothing but your cowboy boots and thin, cotton white panties. Without a word, he knelt before you and pulled off one boot, and then the other, setting them both aside. He hooked two fingers underneath the elastic waistband of your underwear, coaxing you to lift your bottom off of the bed, just long enough for him to pull them down and slide them down your legs. He was so tender in the manner in which he undressed you.

“Fuckin’ beautiful, beautiful girl,” Joel praised. His dark gaze dragged down the length of your body as you sat before him wearing nothing but the delicate, gold chain around your neck. The holy cross nestled between your supple breasts gleamed in the light of the lamp on the nightstand. He would leave it on until your decision was made, set in stone. “My pretty little dove.”

“Joel.” You whimpered his name, hands curling around fistfuls of his dark blue sheets. You were drenched now, in dire need of some relief. If he didn’t touch you where you needed him most, you would surely lose your mind.

Desperate, you leaned back slightly onto his bed and parted your knees, your folds glistening as you showed him just how badly you needed him.

Joel groaned, almost visibly salivating at the sight. The blazing heat in his eyes sent ripples of desire coursing through your body, straight to your throbbing core.

You opened wider. “Please.”

“Christ, babygirl. Already soakin’ the sheets.” Sliding a finger up along the seam of your pussy, he grazed your clit, the touch light, but somehow still enough to make your hips arch off the mattress as white-hot pinpricks of pleasure danced their way up your spine. He lowered his head and leaned in, your sweet scent drawing him in like a moth to a flame. Just when you were about to start pleading him for more, he dipped his face into the apex of your thighs, his mouth finally, finally, meeting your wet heat.

“Oh!” you gasped, your head falling back. “Fuck!”

Against you, his lips curled upwards into a wicked grin. He’d never heard you curse before, not until now.

Joel took his time devouring you, savoring the essence of your cunt with each broad stroke of his tongue. Sealing his lips around your clit, he flicked the swollen, sensitive bundle of nerves over and over again, eliciting from you some of the sweetest noises that he had ever heard in his entire life. In preparation for what you both knew was to come, he pushed one finger inside of you, the invasion causing you to fist his sheets even harder. He then slipped in a second finger, groaning in sheer, carnal bliss at how your walls squeezed them, at the mere thought of them squeezing his cock in the same manner. How was it that you felt so much tighter this time around?

“Oh God.”

You shouldn’t be saying His name. Not like this.

Not when something this sinful was being done to you.

Hungrily, Joel lapped at you, curling both of his fingers in an upwards motion to hit the perfect spot. He knew you were close, felt it in the way that you squirmed and writhed. Draping his arm across your hips, he pinned them down onto the bed, holding you still as he chased your high as if it were his own.

“Joel,” you chanted his name over and over again in a fevered prayer. Releasing the sheets, your hands found his hair, tangling themselves in his curls. Your head fell back, and you cursed at the ceiling of his bedroom. “Fuck, fuck, fuck Joel—”

Pushing onto his mouth, you came, moaning his name so loudly you were certain the whole neighborhood was getting an earful.

Joel pulled back, his beard and mustache slicked with your spend. “S’right, honey,” he crooned, his digits still buried to the knuckle as he helped you to ride out your wave of ecstasy. Eventually, when he pulled them out, you tried closing your shaking legs. He tsked and shook his head, wrenching them open further. “No, no, baby. Keep those pretty thighs open for me. Wanna see her.” He admired his work, his cock twitching at the sight of your pussy, swollen and shining, and ready to take him.

Like earlier, there was another brief skip in time.

Mind still in a haze, you hadn’t even realized that he’d risen to his feet and guided you further up onto his bed, not until you were lying on your back with your head on his pillow and he was hovering over you, his hard length brushing against one of your messy, inner thighs when he settled himself between your legs.

Your heart began to pound in a mingle of both fear and excitement.

Joel’s eyes met yours. His pupils were blown so wide, there was not one, single trace of brown anywhere to be seen. “Y’absolutely sure about this, little dove?”

Your response came without hesitation. “Yes. I’m sure.”

He pressed a kiss to the underside of your jaw. Your submission was a gift, and he would cherish every last second of your surrender to him, savor it for as long as he possibly could. His lips, soft and warm, skimmed along the column of your throat, leaving a trail of fresh goosebumps in their wake.

If, by some chance, you decided that you wanted to go back to your father and to your faith, Joel didn’t know how he would find it in himself to let you go, not after this. Of course, he would have to let go, though.

The last thing he wanted was to help free you from one cage just to stick you right back into another. While he was no stranger to loss, he had to admit to himself that to lose you would be a knife to whatever was left of his heart.

Shoving the thought out of his mind, he reached down and gripped the base of his cock, pumping it in his fist before running the leaking head along your puffy lips, coating himself in your wetness with the hope it would ease some of the pain you were bound to feel. “Ready, babygirl?” he asked you, lightly teasing your entrance. “Might hurt a bit. M’gonna go slow. Just need you to relax for me, alright?”

“Okay.”

“I’ve got you,” he promised.

You nodded, saying softly, “I know.”

Though he knew he had all of your trust, Joel could still sense your anxiousness. He reached out for your hand, lacing your fingers together with his own as he gingerly pressed forward and eased himself into you, taking the very innocence you had been taught your entire life to preserve, one slow, careful inch at a time.

“Oh—Joel!” You cried loudly at the initial stretch, your pretty face scrunching in discomfort. Tightly slamming your eyes shut, sparks flew behind your eyelids when he finally bottomed out. The burning sting in between your thighs was too overwhelming, almost impossible to cope with. He felt so enormous within you, you could have sworn he was in your belly. Another broken cry fell from your lips and he swallowed it with a comforting kiss.

“Jesus Christ,” he hissed against your lips, a thin sheen of sweat coating his brow, neck, and chest. He wasn’t sure where he found the strength, but he suppressed his urge to thrust. Instead, he dropped his face into the hollow of your neck and waited, giving you the chance to adjust to him. He mumbled against your skin. “Doin’ so good for me, sweet girl. Y’know that? You’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me.”

Even in discomfort, you preened at his praise.

He squeezed your hand, and after a minute, he gave an experimental thrust of his hips—and then another and another before he ceased his movement once again. He was so big and you were so deliciously full of him.

Eventually, the pain subsided, and you found yourself asking, no, begging for more. “Move.” Your other hand found itself cupping the side of his face, coaxing him to lift his head and allowing your gazes to meet. Your soft, plush thighs parted further to help accommodate the breadth of his hips. “Please, Joel. I need you to move—I need you to fuck me.”

Surely, you would be the death of him.

He drew his hips back with cautious, tender care, then advanced in the same manner to fill your precious cunt all over again. He did it over and over, your pleasured moans encouraging him to begin picking up the pace. He drove his cock in and out of your weeping pussy, the slapping of flesh against flesh, the lewd, wet squelch of you around him inspiring him to fuck you harder, faster. And the noises you were making?

There was something oh so beautiful about your cries, sweet raptures of submission as you laid there beneath him, all too graciously taking everything he had to give you like the good, good, good girl you were for him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” Joel rasped. “Look at you—look at the way you take my fuckin’ cock, honey.”

And you did.

Glancing down, your gaze fell between your bodies and you watched in awe, openly marveled at the way Joel slid in and out of your cunt, how he knocked hard so deeply inside of you, driving himself as far as he could possibly go.

“Fuck Joel, I’m gonna—” You tried warning him as the pressure in your belly neared its peak, but you tumbled over the edge before you even had the chance to finish your sentence. Arching up off off the bed, you pressed your chest against his, your fingers squeezing his own so hard you feared you might break them.

“That’s it babygirl, let go,” he grunted, speeding up his thrusts. “Squeeze my fuckin’ cock—just like that. Good girl. My perfect, perfect girl.”

You didn’t quite get the chance to let the praise sink in.

Joel pulled himself out of you, and with ease, he flipped you over onto your belly. His hands gripped your hips and pulled them up off the mattress, his fingers moving to firmly knead the fleshiest part of your ass. He leaned over you, the head of his cock nudging at your hole. “Y’think you can handle a little bit more, sweetheart?” he whispered the question into a tumble of messy hair, the delicate scent of the lavender shampoo you used to wash it filling his senses. “Answer me, little dove.”

“Yes,” you replied breathlessly with a nod. “I can.”

With a satisfied hum, Joel sank into you, this second stretch not quite as overwhelming at the first, but still intense. “Relax,” he murmured, hunching further over your quivering back. He pressed a kiss onto the top of your head and then leaned down to brace his hands on either side of you. “Need you to be sweet for me just a bit longer, okay, baby?”

“God,” you whimpered when the heaviness of his balls came to rest on your sensitive clit.

It was the second time you’d uttered His name.

Joel almost grinned at the irony. He found his rhythm, groaning in gut-deep satisfaction with each snap of his hips—each smooth stroke in and each smooth stroke out.

“Oh fuck, sweet girl.” Heaven was indeed a real place, and Joel Miller was buried in it to the hilt, right at this very moment.

He was getting closer and closer.

Maybe it was your eagerness to help him reach his own release mingled with the pride you knew you would feel once you did that gave you a second wind, a fresh, new burst of energy. You planted your hands firmly on his pillow. Rolling your bottom lip between your teeth, you curved your spine and pushed back onto Joel with purpose, meeting his thrusts halfway as you rode his aching length to the satiation that waited for him at the end.

“There’s my girl,” he rasped. “Oh fuckin’ Christ—”

No way he could live his life without you now.

He needed you.

He needed you so much more than you needed him.

Joel slipped an arm around your shoulders, across your chest.

“Oh!” you gasped as he then yanked you back, pulling you flush against him. The rough crash of your back against his chest, combined with the angle in which he was fucking you knocked the wind out of your lungs.

His lips were at the shell of your ear. “Stay,” he panted, his breath hot against your cheekbone. He wrapped his other hand lightly around your throat. Relentless, were his hips now—his movements had become frantic. Desperate. “Stay with me, baby.”

Even as you fought to catch your breath in the position he had you in, you picked up on the fact that he wasn’t asking you of it, nor was he demanding you of it.

He was begging you.

Him, the most feared man in this town. Begging you?

“Joel,” you choked.

“Please, my little dove,” he pleaded, turning your head towards him. His mouth was then on the corner of your own, his beard roughly scratching the soft and delicate flesh of your cheek. “I need you, babygirl. Stay with me. Please, just fuckin’ stay with me.”

Your hands curled around his wrists. “Yes, I’ll stay,” you moaned. “I’m yours, Joel. I’m all yours. I—I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I’ll stay with you.”

A low, guttural sound rumbled through his chest. Joel firmly took hold of your cross, and without so much as a warning, he ripped the chain from around your neck and tossed it somewhere over his shoulder. He heard it land on the hardwood floor with the tiniest, faint clink the moment he spilled into you, ropes of warm release coating your fluttering walls. Curses and groans spilled from his lips and into your neck. Your cunt clutched at his pulsing cock, greedy for every last drop of his spend she could get.

Once you were filled, you both collapsed beside each other on the bed, heaving to catch a steady breath.

“Y’okay, sweetheart?” Joel managed to ask, his chest still rising and falling rapidly.

Exhausted, all you could do was nod and utter, “Mhm.”

He exhaled an amused huff through his nose. “C’mere.” He reached for you and pulled you against his side. He draped an arm around your shoulders, holding you as close to him as was possible. “Y’did so good, honey.”

Your mouth curled into a small, contented smile.

Several minutes had passed by, and despite telling him that you were too tired to even think about moving, Joel made you get up and use the bathroom, and while you did so, he ran a clean washcloth under warm water. “Here, darlin’. Let me clean you up,” he’d said, his lips meeting your forehead in a loving token of affection before he sank down onto one knee and ran the damp cloth along the insides of your thighs. He took extreme care when he wiped at your swollen folds, knowing you were still sensitive to the touch. “There we go. All done, now.”

Not long after, you were both back in his bed, wrapped up in his sheets.

Yawning, you nuzzled into bare his chest, your eyelids feeling heavier and heavier with each and every second that ticked by. You’d started drifting off when you heard his voice.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?” you answered sleepily, eyes still closed.

“Did you mean what you said?”

“Mean what, Joel?”

There was a brief pause. “Y’know, when you said you’d stay with me.”

Snuggling closer to him, you mumbled, “Mhm. Of course I did.”

“S’not gonna be easy,” Joel murmured into your hair.

“I know.” You yawned. “But I have you.”

“You do. You’ve got me—and I’ve got you, babygirl.”

“Mm. I know that too, Joel.”

You felt him kiss the top of your head and then fell fast asleep in his arms.

The sun bloomed over the Grand Tetons.

Your father would wake soon, that’s to say if he wasn’t up already.

The nerves began to set in.

Joel must have sensed it. “Breathe, baby. S’gonna be okay,” he soothed, squeezing your hand.

With one of his warmer, heavier jackets that normally didn’t see the light of day until winter season draped around your shoulders, the two of you made your way down the road and towards your house. Or better said, towards your father’s house. Because after what you were about to do, that yellow and white cottage would no longer be a place you could call home.

He led you up to the porch. “Y’sure you don’t want me to go in there with you?” he asked, quietly.

You could have laughed. You almost did.

“Do you believe that to be a wise choice?”

“No, I reckon it ain’t the best idea,” Joel admitted with a sigh, raking his free hand through his unkempt, salt and pepper hair. He looked up at the house, then back at you. “Look, little dove. No matter what happens in there, just know that everythin’ will be alright. M’gonna take care of you. For the rest of my life, I’ll take care of you. I’ll try my hardest to be everythin’ you need.”

“You already are, Joel,” you said, your gaze earnest.

His chest swelled with warmth.

Truth be told, Joel didn’t know how he had managed to defy the odds—how he, of all people, had managed to make his way into that sweet, innocent, beautiful little heart of yours, but somehow he did, and he would not take this responsibility lightly.

He brushed your lips with his and promised, “Gonna be waitin’ right here, okay?”

“Okay.” Inhaling deeply, you willed yourself to let go of his hand and took a step back. You then started up the porch steps on wobbling legs. When you made it to the top, you glanced over your shoulder at Joel, who gave you a subtle nod of encouragement. Exhaling slowly, you reached for the knob with trembling fingers and turned it, opening the door. You stepped inside, your heart dropping into your stomach when you saw your father sitting there at the foot of the staircase, as if he’d been waiting for you. He had been waiting for you. Fully dressed, he sat on the second to last step with both hands folded on his bible in his lap, a rosary clutched between them. “Papa?”

He said nothing. Instead, he silently observed you—his eyes glazed over the men’s jacket and the short dress you wore underneath it, the disheveled, loose hair and kiss swollen lips. Your holy cross nowhere to be seen.

“Papa.” You swallowed harshly and shifted your weight anxiously from the heel of one boot to the other. “We, um—we really need to have a talk.”

He peered around you, catching a brief glimpse of the man standing outside, waiting for you at the foot of the porch.

He cleared his throat, lightly. “Yes, child. I suppose that we do.”

Nodding tightly, you turned around and slowly closed the door. Joel’s words rang in your mind over and over, giving you the push of strength you knew you would need.

I’ve got you.

divider credit goes to @saradika 🤍

#fic: fall into temptation #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x afab!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller series #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller angst #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #post outbreak joel

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katszumi · 6 months

Text

“you know, your eyes kinda resemble a ruby.” you slurred your words. your chin rested in the palm of your hand, elbow digging in the table below you.

bakugou snorted, his eyes never wavering from yours. “what made you think of that shit?”

you lifted your shoulders, quickly dropping them.

“do i need a reason?”

“to be thinking about nonsense? yes.” he answered his own question. his response caused an eye-roll out of you.

you grabbed the small glass in front of you, finishing the shot you set down earlier to save for later.

“that’s your fifth shot of the night.” bakugou intercepted the silence. he sat upright in his chair, his arms folded across his chest.

you gulped the remains of the liquor, swiping your tongue across the bottom of your lip.

“and you’re on your what? like second?” you remarked.

bakugou wasn’t a drinker. everyone knew that. he preferred to be sober, always offering to be the designated driver whenever the group wanted to have a night of fun.

but tonight was his pro-hero debut party. all of his friends and old schoolmates were there, so he figured if he were to drink, tonight was the perfect time.

also, who was he to decline having a drink with a pretty girl?

his eyes glanced at your now wet lips which unfortunately didn’t go unnoticed from you. “two is plenty.”

you leaned forward, reaching your hand towards bakugou’s shirt. your fingers grazed the top button of his shirt. slowly, you unfastened it. “there’s nothing wrong with having a little fun, katsuki.”

due to the sudden proximity, he could smell the alcohol coming from your breath, but he couldn’t bring himself to resist your actions.

you continued to the second button. “take this time to relax.” you raised your hands once more, your fingers now grazing his neck to uncuff the collar of his shirt.

now, you leaned away from him, returning to your previous position. “now you look like a man that’s ready for the night.”

bakugou dropped his shoulders and leaned back in his chair, turning his head sideways. he couldn’t refuse the blush that was coming onto his face nor could he hide it. he knew you were staring right into his soul. he was also aware that you loved to tease him like that.

“unhinged. i swear you are.” was the only thing bakugou could muster.

ever since he’s known you from u.a, you were always that daring girl who was so unpredictable. there was never a dull moment with you.

but that was also what made you so dangerous for him.

a laugh parted your lips. “been called worse.”

“bullshit.” he called it, looking into your eye once again. “like what?”

“irresponsible,” you started count on your fingers.

“i can see it.” bakugou shared his input.

“arrogant,”

he rolled his eyes, “heard my fair share of that one too.”

“impulsive,”

“accurate.”

“provocative.”

bakugou moved his head in a notion like he was deciding between two things. “nah.”

you furrowed your brow, squinting your eyes in confusion. “what is that supposed to mean?”

“provocative sounds like a slutty word.” he simply responded. “i think you know you’re attractive, and you know how to use it to your advantage. not a bad thing at all.”

you paused for a moment, your lips parting from shock. a small grin began to form on your face. “did bakugou katsuki just call me attractive?”

the male scoffed, “don’t act like this is news to you. ‘m sure you heard it plenty times before.” he brushed it off.

“just didn’t think you of all people would willingly say that.”

bakugou chuckled to himself. he raised his finger in the air, indicating for the server assigned to your table to bring him another drink.

“unlike you, not everyone needs five shots of liquor in their system to confess something.” undoubtedly, it was shot taken at her, one that you couldn’t refuse the growing smile on your face.

“oh? since when did you decide to get so bold?”

“someone’s actions tend to rub off on me.”

“they must be foolish.”

once again, bakugou’s ruby eyes lowered to your lips. undeniable. how could his heart ever stand a chance when you treat him this way? did you not understand he loved a challenge?

“yeah, an irresistible fool.”

“please, i’m anything but a fool.”

“don’t flatter yourself; who said i was talking about you?” he opted to lie.

you leaned forward slightly, “with the amount of times you keep staring at my lips, it’s not hard to notice it’s taking everything in you to resist me.” your voice lowered in volume, for his ears to catch only. “therefore, irresistible.”

bakugou took his time to respond, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a smirk. “this must be that arrogant side of yours coming out.”

“one, not necessarily arrogance if it’s true. two, i’m attractive and i know how to use it to my advantage.” you recited his own words.

“this something you do with all your flings?”

you gave him a playful confused look. “do what?” intentionally, your voice had an innocent tone to it.

“drink with them. tease ‘em. nearly undress them. flirt with them in front of an audience?” bakugou could feel his patience slipping. like a sand hourglass, only a few grains left at the top waiting to fall to the bottom.

it had to have been from the shots that made him so precariously bold. but he couldn’t walk away. not when he has you in the palm of his hands— maybe even the other way around.

you propped your elbow on the table once more, cupping your own cheek. you gazed at bakugou through your lashes.

“if i had other flings, you think i’d be here with you all night?”

“don’t know. good question actually.” purposely, he played stupid.

you paused. “there are no others,” you knew that was the answer he was searching for. luckily for him, you didn’t mind giving it to him. “just you.”

bakugou nodded slowly, basking in the information. he could feel his heart flutter from the confession, a huge wave of relief washing over him.

“good. was startin’ to think you were actually considering the guy over at the bar.” of course, bakugou plays it off as a joke. even with the small liquor in his system, it was still difficult for him to admit his true feelings.

but you were fine with it. because even with the guard he pretends to have up, you can feel even with the slightest touch how much he cares for you. bakugou may be loud, cheeky, maybe a bit conceited, but he wasn’t a good liar. you always saw through his facade no matter what lies he decided to spew.

you scoff. “oh, shut up.” you fight a smile. “the guy at the bar doesn’t have the ruby eyes i like so much.”

“here you go with this stupid shit.”

i ’d do anything to flirt with katsuki late at night, both of us tipsy. god please im beggin

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xanasaurusrex · 8 months

Text

clarisse being touchy clarisse la rue x reader (no godly parent specified) a/n: this randomly came to me while rewatching the second episode and i decided to write it. it's 11:30pm at the time of starting this, so idk how coherent this is gonna be, but it's gonna be cute, so strap in and enjoy the ride! taglist: @asvterias @lvrue @thewritingbarbie @kroumi @ravisinghs-wife

you were used to seeing a touchy clarisse. the two often found ways to be alone, to be just the two of you alone together. this was when clarisse got out all of her touchiness on you. whenever the two of you were in your little world, she never let go of you.

but the past few days had been busy. there had been lots of different types of incidents, and the two of you hadn't been able to get together just the two of you.

so when some of the other camp counsellors announced that they were holding a counselor-only bonfire, the two of you jumped at the opportunity.

at the beginning of the bonfire, clarisse was just holding your hand. you would occasionally lean your head on her shoulder, and she would lay her cheek on the top of your head. a few times, she pressed a kiss to your hair as well.

nobody really blinked at that, since those were things that the two of you already did. it was a bit of a shock at first, clarisse acting anything but hostile towards another person, but at this point, after the two of you dating for over a year, everyone was used to it.

as the night wore on, however, clarisse's restraint dissolved. she wanted so desperately to hold you, to grab onto you and never let you go.

she started following you around wherever you were, refusing to let go of your hands. when you told her that you needed your hands to get s'more stuff, she decided to just curl her arm around your waist, and refuse to let that go.

after a while, you wandered off while she was talking to someone from her cabin. she realized two seconds too late that you had extricated her hand from your waist, and she whirled around, freaking out.

she caught sight of you just a few seconds later, sitting in a camping chair roasting a marshmallow. her eyebrows knitted together as she walked up behind you.

she gently laid her hands on your shoulders, startling you slightly. you turned your head sharply, but smiled when you caught sight of her. "hi!" you said cheerily.

clarisse's mouth turned down into a sad frown as she gave you her puppy dog eyes.

"what?" you asked, turning around further in the chair to be more head on with her.

clarisse blew out a sad breath, and made eye contact with you as she asked, "why did you leave me?"

"oh my gods," you let out a laugh as you sagged against the camping chair. "you're so dramatic," you said.

clarisse scoffed. "i looked away for one second! one second, and you were gone! i thought a monster got you," she huffed.

"no you didn't!" you started cackling as you took hold of her hand that was rested on the top of the camping chair. you gave it a gentle kiss and looked up at clarisse through your lashes, giving her your own puppy dog eyes, the ones that were famous for getting clarisse to do literally anything you want. she wavers, but does her best to remain composed. "do you wanna come sit with me?"

and that was it.

clarisse immediately walked around the camping chair, and grabbed your hands to pull you up. she sat down in the chair, and then pulled you to sit in her lap.

this was something that clarisse loved, something the two of you did quite a lot. there was just something about having you, the most important person in her life, on her lap. she was able to wrap her arms around your waist and pull you closer to her. she was also able to lay her head on your shoulder, and she really loved that.

as soon as you were sat securely on her lap, she pulled the two of you closer, and laid her head on your shoulder, closing her eyes with a small smile on her face. she laid her hand in the crook of your elbow, gently stroking your arm as you roasted your marshmallow.

it was times like this that you and clarisse absolutely shocked everyone else at camp.

clarisse was a daughter of ares, and she really fit the bill. she was known for being ruthless in combat, absolutely terrifying with her magic spear. she hunted fearlessly in her neck of the woods during capture the flag, and it was so renowned that everybody avoided those woods as best they could during the games.

suffice to say, clarisse was known for being scary.

but she was different when she was with you. it was like you flicked a switch somewhere inside of her, made her different. you softened her edges, made her less scratchy. well, with you at least. she was still just as scratchy with everyone else, so to speak.

right at this very moment, luke, chris, and a few other counselors were looking at the two of you in complete awe and confusion.

"it's so weird to see her like that still," chris says, looking at the two in confusion.

luke nodded in agreement. "i agree," he watched as clarisse nuzzled against your neck, and sent you a beaming smile as you looked down at her with one of your own. she pecked your lips softly, and luke turned back to the group he was with. "it's crazy to see the switch. literally five minutes ago she was like, scolding me for taking too many chips,"

one of the other counselors laughed. "the other day, i accidentally put a sword back in the wrong spot, and she yelled at me for a solid five minutes. right as i was about to burst into tears, y/n walked in, and clarisse immediately melted,"

"she's so whipped," luke laughed, and the others laughed along with him.

clarisse knew she was whipped, she was very much so aware of that. but she was also, very much so okay with that.

she had never loved anyone as much as she loved y/n.

#clarisse la rue #clarisse larue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue drabble #clarisse la rue x you #clarisse la rue x yn #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue fluff #percy jackson #dior goodjohn #❛ xanasaurusrex ༉‧₊˚#heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #hoo

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writeriguess · 24 days

Note

You write for mha??? Wedding day with katsuki x reader pls.

The day had finally arrived.

The air buzzed with a nervous energy that you hadn’t felt before. This was it—the day you and Katsuki Bakugo had been building up to. After all the battles, late nights, and shared dreams, you were about to say “I do” to the explosive hero who stole your heart.

You stood in front of the mirror, smoothing out invisible wrinkles on your wedding attire. Your heartbeat thudded in your chest, a mix of nerves and excitement swirled in your stomach. But beyond all of that, one thing was crystal clear—you couldn’t wait to see Katsuki.

“Stop fussing, you look perfect,” a voice called from behind. You turned to see Mina, a bright smile on her face as she adjusted the flower in your hair. “Bakugo’s gonna lose his mind when he sees you.”

You let out a soft laugh, the tension easing ever so slightly. “Think so?”

“I know so!” she replied with a wink.

The ceremony was set in a garden draped in soft lights and flowers. It was simple but elegant, just as you both wanted. As you made your way down the aisle, all the sights and sounds blurred into the background, leaving only the image of Katsuki at the altar.

He stood there, dressed sharply in a black suit that contrasted against his wild, ash-blond hair. His signature scowl was gone, replaced by an expression so full of emotion it nearly took your breath away. His crimson eyes locked onto yours, softening in a way that only you ever got to see.

When you finally stood in front of him, you couldn’t help but smile at the way his jaw clenched, clearly fighting to keep his emotions in check.

“You look… amazing,” Katsuki muttered, voice hushed as if speaking any louder would make him crack.

Your heart fluttered. “You’re not so bad yourself, Dynamight.”

The ceremony began, but all you could focus on was him—how his hands trembled slightly when he reached out to hold yours, how his gaze never wavered, like you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

When it came time for the vows, you took a deep breath. Words weren’t Katsuki’s strong suit, but you could see the determination in his eyes as he began to speak.

“I ain’t good at all this mushy crap, you already know that,” he started, his voice rough but steady. “But you’re the one person I never wanna lose. I never thought I’d find someone who could put up with all my shit, let alone make me wanna be better. But you did. You do.”

There was a pause as he tightened his grip on your hands. “I’m gonna spend the rest of my life makin’ sure you’re happy, protectin’ you from whatever’s out there. Not ‘cause you need it, but ‘cause that’s what I wanna do. We’re in this together, no matter what.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as you listened. You’d seen Katsuki at his strongest and at his weakest, but this—the honesty and vulnerability he was showing now—made you fall even harder for him.

It was your turn now. You took a shaky breath and met his gaze, speaking from the heart.

“Katsuki, you’ve always been a force—unstoppable, untamable. But you’ve also been my anchor, the one who grounds me when the world feels too chaotic. You push me to be stronger, braver, and even when you’re grumbling and cursing, you love so fiercely. I promise to stand by you, no matter what challenges we face. We’re equals, partners, and I’ll always be here—cheering for you, fighting with you, loving you.”

You could see him swallow hard, his grip tightening again. His eyes were glossy, and you knew he was holding back everything he felt in that moment.

The officiant declared you married, and Katsuki didn’t waste a second. He pulled you into his arms, his lips crashing onto yours with a passion that made the world fade away. It wasn’t soft or delicate—it was pure, unfiltered Katsuki, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

As you pulled back, he leaned his forehead against yours, his voice barely a whisper. “You’re mine, and I’m yours. Got it?”

“Forever,” you whispered back.

The night that followed was filled with laughter, dancing, and a warmth that wrapped around you both like a blanket. You caught Katsuki staring at you more than once, that small, secret smile playing at his lips.

And as you shared your first dance together, with the soft hum of music and the glow of the lights around you, you realized that this was just the beginning. No matter what came next, as long as you had Katsuki by your side, everything would be alright.

Because in his own explosive, stubborn way, Katsuki Bakugo loved you—and that was more than enough to make this life perfect.

Requests are open.

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becomingmina · 7 months

Note

thanks for the clarification ♡

so here is the thought I had

hyunjin and reader being each other's crush but absolutely idiotic about it so they don't know the other's feelings

they have common friends that are sick of the tension between the two. one decides to tell hyunjin, the other suggests the reader to do something to make hyunjin jealous so she can find out if he likes her. (boring I know)

one time when everyone's around, she flirts with jisung or something idk and she gets too touchy so hyunjin is annoyed af. pulls her away to somewhere private and voila, they've confessed in the best way possible 😌🌸

CRUSH. anon request w/ HYUNJIN.

18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

pairing: hyunjin x female reader genre + warnings: friends to lovers, smut mdni!, oral (both f & m receiving), hyunjin calls reader kitten, semi-public wc: 5.4k mina's note: Anon also wanted to throw ‘kitten’ in it (my fav pet name 👀) Also I really enjoyed writing this & love how much details you put on the request!! My box is open for feedback 💓

other works here ; any comments and thoughts you can drop them here ; ty for reading.

You don’t know how you got in this situation but here you are; staring at your friend who is currently playing basketball, topless. Well, you’re more like drooling over him.

He just looked so good, so hot. His tall, lean, milky body just running around on the court covered in a thin layer of sweat. Normally you hate the thought of sweat, but it works for him. It works well for Hwang Hyunjin, actually. He even looks like he smells nice too. You watch as he laughs at the other players, hogging the ball like the main character in some high school drama. Your eyes waver from his pretty smile to his muscular arms to his piercing, which is sitting so perfectly under his eyebrow, then to his burgundy hair.

You pay attention the beads of sweat that trickles from his hair to his chest, dripping down his body. You gulped when you see them land on the area just underneath his belly button. You completely loss your sanity as your eyes covered that area. His treasure trail? Happy trail? Whatever people called it. Why was it so sexy on Hyunjin?

You quickly look away before anyone catches you; you shouldn’t be looking at him like that. Hyunjin is your friend.

When you meet him two years ago in your first year of college, he was just some guy in class you become friends with. He is good looking, but you didn’t find him attractive. There was no chemistry, no tension, no feelings. You don’t know how it started but you find yourself thinking about him every other hour of the day now. You would freeze when someone else mentions his name, blush when he was in close proximity of you and even stutter when he speaks to you.

“Hey.. Hey Y/N,” a voice snapping you out of your thoughts, followed by a nudge on your shoulder.

“Hm?” You answered, unaware of who was even calling out to you. You turn your head and there he was, your crush Hwang Hyunjin crouching down next to you, smiling at your blank reaction. You’re used to him towering over you since he was way taller than you but to have him crouched down like this looking at you makes you feel a bit.. timid.

“I’m going to borrow this,” he says dangling your fresh hand towel in-front of you. Oh yeah, the hand towel you carry around in your bag just in case your physical education professor makes you participate in class. The one you won’t let anyone use or even touch.

When they say having a crush makes you do crazy stuff, they do mean it. You were quick to lean him it.

“Huh.. uhh yeah, sure,” you answered, eyes travelling from your towel to his face again.

When you realised you’ve been staring at him longer than you should have, you cough and drop eye contact, making Hyunjin gulped a little bit too loud. “I don’t need it anyways you can keep—”

“—I’ll return it,” he says with a smile. “I’ll wash it first of-course.” You nod your head quietly as you gather up your belongings, getting ready to go to your next class.

“Come on Hyunjin, we are going to be late for class!” Chan, the oldest out of the friend group, calls out to him.

“So.. I’ll see you at lunch then?” Hyunjin says after noticing your quietness.

“Yeah, I’ll see you at lunch,” you mumbled, shooting him a quick glance.

“Bye bro,” Hyunjin says to Minho, giving him a handshake before collecting his bag and going off with Chan.

Minho chuckles at the scene that just unfolded in-front of him; two of his best friends obviously crushing on one another but no one is making a move. Well, it’s not really you and Hyunjin’s fault since you guys don’t know about the other person’s feelings.

“You know he likes you right?” Minho blurted out and you turn your head to his direction.

“Who?” You answered nervously. Did Minho just witness everything?

“Hyunjin,” Minho replies with raised eyebrows, his smug a little bit too cocky for your liking today. You rolled your eyes at him but underneath your skin, you are hot, flustered, embarrassed.

“No way!” you denied. Hyunjin could never like you, he only saw you as a friend.

“He does—”

You scoffed a little bit too fast.

“Do you not see the way he looks at you Y/N?” You can’t tell if Minho was being serious or not.

Minho does have a history of being a joker which makes you think he’s just pranking you. But he also is a very honest friend, he would never joke around with stuff that could potentially hurt you.

“Uhhhh—” you hesitantly reply.

Minho takes in a loud breath, “—I don’t know if you’re genuinely dense or you just don’t want to admit it.”

“He doesn’t like me,” you answered.

“He does,” Minho turns his head behind to look at Hyunjin and you followed. You watch as the two made their way across the field, Chan wrapping his arms around Hyunjin’s shoulder trying to snatch your towel away from him.

“Oh, you don’t want to give it to me because that’s your girl’s towel?” Chan laughs, basically choking Hyunjin at this point.

“She’s.. she’s not.. my girl..” Hyunjin softly replies in a cough, not sure if he was actually being choked by Chan’s big arms or by choking up at you being called his girl.

“She’s not your girl.. yet?” The older boy teased.

“What do you mean?” Hyunjin questioned, hoping Chan didn’t see through him.

Chan looked back at you and Minho who was still sitting by the basketball court. You swiftly turn back to Minho, hoping Chan didn’t catch you starring at Hyunjin.

“Trust me,” Minho said with his smug face, raising his brow to the older boy across the field. “You know how to tell if he likes you?”

You stay quiet. You were curious but didn’t want to seem like it, so you just raised your eyebrow. Tell me, tell me Lee Minho!

“Make him jealous,” Minho says lifting his chin to Jisung who was currently surrounded by a group of girls shoving their gym towel into his face.

You know what Minho was referring to; that’s how Felix ended up with Nayeon. Minho suggested to Nayeon to make Felix jealous by sitting next to Jisung at some dinner since he was such a girl magnet. Next thing you know she was pulled away from the table by Felix and they have been together ever since.

You scoffed. It sure worked for them, but you weren’t going to use Jisung like that; he was your friend.

“I’m not going to use Han-Ji like that,” you replied.

“Okay look..” he blinks a little too hard at you. “Just use Han-Ji.. He is also as tired as we all are of you and Hyunjin’s….” He pauses. “..tension..”

“Who is we?” You asked confused.

Who else has been noticing your little crush on Hyunjin? Is what you really wanted to ask your best friend, but you don’t.

“..And there’s no tension between me and Hyunjin.. I don’t know what you talking about,” deny deny deny.

“Everyone in the friend group can feel the tension, you idiot,” the nickname causing you to pout. “Felix, Bin, Min, Lia—”

“—Hyunjin doesn’t like me.”

“Bet?” He was too quick with this. “I’ll let you have bragging rights if he doesn’t like you. But I get the bragging rights if he does,” he suggested.

“Huh, what?” Both of them sound bad to you. Why would you be happy with bragging rights if Hyunjin doesn’t like you back? It would sting you! And if by chance Hyunjin likes you back, you would hate to deal with Minho’s telling the whole campus he was cupid. What the hell was Minho on?

“What?” He laughed after noticing your face, full of displeasure. “I mean, the worst that could happen is he doesn’t like you back.. But then that means you get bragging rights?” Minho laughs tilting his head to the side. He can read you well.

“Dude you’re insufferable!” You rolled your eyes. He was still looking at you with his smirk.. Oh wait. “What do you mean like me back? I don’t like him,” you denied, it but wasn’t fast enough, he had caught you.

“Sure.. I know everything. Come on, trust me. I’m your best friend,” Minho nudges your shoulders. “Remember the party this weekend? How you rather sit at home and do nothing. Well maybe you should just come. We haven’t seen you out in a while.. Come, and be prettier than this..” he says looking down at your gym wear. You were in baggy sweat shorts and an even baggier t-shirt. “And I’ll help you get with him-”

“—Hey!” you shove his shoulder back. “What’s wrong with me now?!” You look down at your attire. It was gym class anyways of course you would be in this, even if you don’t participate.

“What? Nothing,” he answers playfully. “Come on, we going to be late to our next class!” Minho gets up before opening up his hand to help you up. “Han-ji, we’re late!”

It was lunch time and you and Han-Ji ditched Minho to go down to the college’s local bakery to get some lunch.

“You’re totally not coming to the party?” Minho asked Hyunjin who was sat at the lunch table, eating his huge burrito. Seungmin, Felix and Chan were also there chiming into the conversation.

“Who’s going?” Hyunjin asked, a mouth full.

“Just the usual.. us. So, Chris, Bin, Jeongin, Yeji.. and then half of the third years are invited,” Hyunjin doesn’t look too interested. Don’t get the wrong idea, he loves his friends and parties, but he had also seen them every single day on campus, so he had no fear of missing out.

“…oh and Y/N says she’s going to come too,” Minho blurted, playing full attention to his friends reaction.

Hyunjin’s ears perks up at your name, his cheeks suddenly growing pink as he looks back at Minho.

“Actually.. I’ll come. Haven’t been had fun in a while,” Hyunjin drops the eye contact when he notices Minho’s sneer. “You want me to bring anything?” Hyunjin continues a little twitchy, playing with his food.

Minho just laughs. This was getting too exciting for him. “Bring your courage!” The rest of the boys laughed.

“What?” Hyunjin asked, narrowing his eyes at the crowd.

“You like Y/N, don’t you?” Seungmin exclaimed catching Hyunjin by surprised.

“Umm...” Hyunjin freezes. He doesn’t know how to answer. Of course, he likes you, but he didn’t want to admit knowing the boys were definitely going to tease him even more for it. But he didn’t want to say no just in case they spin it around to say he doesn’t like you at all as a friend.

“Don’t worry bro, she likes you too,” Minho break the silence. Hyunjin’s heart stop at his best friend’s words. He didn’t know what he expected but it wasn’t that.

“Really? She likes me back?” Hyunjin replies promptly, a sheer smile pulling on his face. He was definitely blushing.

“Back.. So you do like her?” Chan torments Hyunjin again and Hyunjin’s smile slowly faded form his face. They had caught him too.

“Hey Y/N!” Felix calls out and the rest of the boys look over Hyunjin’s shoulder. He wanted to spin back to check but he didn’t want the boys to play more into his eagerness, so he just freezes looking straight at them.

“Hi Lix!” Your voice calls from behind him.

“Come here! Hurry!” Felix continues to make conversation with you.

“Bro just ask her out already, we’re all tired of the tension,” Chan quickly expresses.

“What tension?” Hyunjin was desperate to see what they had to say before you got to the table.

“Sexual tension,” Seungmin whispers and everyone goes silence, pressing their lips trying to hold back their smile.

“There’s no tension between me and—”

“—Okay you say there’s so tension? I guess Han-Ji can make his move then,” Minho interrupted, surprising Hyunjin again.

“Does Han-Ji likes Y/N—"

“—Shh she’s behind you,” Chan shushes the younger boy up before he could finish his sentence.

“Hey..” Hyunjin says timidly before you could even sit down.

“Hey..” you replied back, climbing over the bench so you can sit next to him. The whole group watches as Hyunjin blushed at your proximity. “Sit here,” you pat the area on the other side of you for Jisung to sit.

“Coffee and pastries for lunch? That place is like a 10 minute walk,” Chan askes from across the table.

“It’s okay, Han-ji keeps me company,” you say as you nudge Jisung a little bit and you both open up your pastry bag.

Hyunjin glances at you from aside, he stays quiet.

Hyunjin doesn’t know how to feel. He didn’t expect his boys to catch on about his feelings for you and he didn’t expect Minho to blurt out that you like him back. Hyunjin is also confused after seeing how close Han-Ji is to you too, he never really questions your close relationship until now. Does Han-Ji actually like you? Thoughts flood his brain as he continues to eat his burrito.

You rushed home from your last Friday class to get ready for the party. You threw on one of your mini sun dress, pairing it up with some sandals and a cross body bag before collecting your black cardigan and rushing out to Yeji who was ready in the living room waiting to do some pre-party shots with you.

You and Yeji tipsy-ly made it to the loudest house on the street. Lee Minho’s residency. It was only 8pm and it was already crowded. She held your hand and clumsy pulls you through dim-lit hallways packed with people before reaching the living room. There they were, all of your friends in the living room with a drink in their hand, conversing with one another.

“There they are!” Seungmin yells as he sees you and his girlfriend. He quickly makes his way to rip Yeji off you, pulling her into the kitchen to get a drink.

“Wow, my best friend finally came to one of my parties!” Minho appears out of no where handing you a beer.

“I was here two months ago Min..” You playfully rolled your eyes. “When you and Nayeon vomited everywhere and me and Felix had to bathe you guys.. naked,” you refreshed his memory.

“I remember.. Crazy night..” Minho laughs. He stops to look you up and down before grabbing your shoulders. “Very pretty Y/N. You planning to make someone jealous?” He complimented before getting back to his little mischiefs.

“Maybe,” you answered looking around the room. You hadn’t seen Hyunjin yet and Minho notices.

“Your boy is hella tipsy by the way, he keeps telling me he’s nervous but won’t tell me why,” Minho informs you.

“He’s not my boy.”

“Sure.. okay, anyways so not your boy is currently staring at you from behind,” Minho also announced as he stares at Hyunjin from over your shoulder.

Hyunjin’s heart stops at your presence. He has always found you pretty but tonight, he found you extremely gorgeous. Maybe because tonight was the night, he was going to let you know about his feelings. He takes another sip of his drink, pondering how he’s going to pull you away. He wanted to find the perfect timing, he didn’t want to do it too early just in case you reject him, and he has to go home early.

He watches you as you make your way to Jisung who was currently sat on the tiniest fucking armchair he had ever seen.

“Han-Ji!” You were going to follow Minho’s instructions; you either leave tonight with Hyunjin or rejected by Hyunjin but with bragging rights.

“Hey Y/N, you look like you had a couple of drinks already,” Jisung says as he touches his owns cheeks to indicate where your pink complexion was. You nodded bashfully to your friend before getting up on the arm of the chair to sit.

“It’s wet there, I just spilled my drink there. Come here,” Jisung stops you before you could sit. He pulled your arm so you can squeeze next to him on the tiny fucking armchair. You hope Hyunjin was watching.

“You okay?” Jisung asks cupping your face to lean your head against his shoulder - he knows how tired you get when you drink.

“Mhmm,” you closed your eyes as you continue to converse with your friend.

Hyunjin was still watching everything from the other side of the room. His hand was wrapped around his drink tightly, expressing his annoyance at the skin-ship and at himself for not pulling you away the second you got here, like he wasn’t waiting all night just for you to arrive. He starts to feel a little jealous now that your attention is on Han-Ji. And maybe Minho was right, and Han-Ji does have feelings for you.

He had to do it. He had to pull you away and ask why you hadn’t noticed his feelings for you all this time. He feels himself grow hot, he was feeling tense.

Hyunjin takes in a deep breath before downing the drink, squeezing his cup on the process. The plastic from the red cup causes disturbance making the boys turn their head at their friend.

“You good, pretty boy?” Changbin asks noticing the change in Hyunjin’s demeanour, taking the red cup out of his hand.

“Yeah, just need some air,” Hyunjin says running a hand through his fluffy red hair as he makes his way to you.

“Can we talk?” Someone askes from above you and you instantly open your eyes, locking eyes with them.

You feel your heart skip a beat as you finally see him. He had on some baggy jeans with a black t-shirt, one sleeved rolled up complementing his muscular arm. God, he looked so hot; you feel yourself drooling over him again.

“Okay.” You answered softly.

“Come,” he says, grabbing a hold of your hand making you get up from the chair. You heart start to flutter at his brace. Was it happening now? Is Hyunjin jealous?

He guides you through the crowd of people in the living room before dragging you up the stairs and towards Minho’s bedroom. He lets you enter first before locking the door behind him.

Your eyes wonder around Minho’s bedroom - his room was dark, quite clean, quite quiet for such a loud guy. You scoff to yourself quietly at the contrast. As you spin around the room, Hyunjin watches you and smiles at your cuteness before getting back to his senses of why he pulled you here in the first place.

“Are you drunk?” He asked suddenly.

“Hmm? Not quite yet,” you answered, making your way into Minho’s ensuite. “Why?” You asked so he can follow you, just testing the waters.

You placed your bag on the counter before digging through it trying to find your lipstick.

“What are you doing then?” Hyunjin asked towering behind you looking at you through the mirror.

“What do you mean?” You glance up at him to ask before going through your bag again, acting like you had no idea what was going on, even though your heart was beating just as fast as his.

“What were you doing up on Han-Ji like that?” Yep, he saw everything.

“I wasn’t on him?” You lied.

“Y/N.” He was getting a little be frustrated at your replies, you were obviously up to something.

“Why does it matter to you anyways—”

“—It’s making me jealous.” Hyunjin interrupted you making you glance up at him again. Minho’s plan was working. Minho was right.

You spin around to face him and finally, you can feel the tension everyone was talking about. He likes you. You feel your heart beating rapidly as he stares into your eyes. Your breathing becomes heavier as he takes another step towards you. You try to keep eye contact just to see if he drops it first, but he doesn’t. Your eyes drop first, to his lips then up to his eyes then back to his lips. They looked so full, so soft. Wouldn’t be crazy if you guys just kissed?

“Hyunjin?” You say above a whisper, lips forming into a pout right after. Hyunjin found you so precious looking up at him like this.

His resting face rapidly turns into a smirks now as he watches your eyes flicker to his lips. He knew what you wanted; he knows how you feel now. “Hmm?” He questioned, just to tease you a little bit.

“Can you just kiss me already?” You say, not begging but with a hint of desperation. You like him and you just confirmed he likes you, what were you guys waiting for?

He chuckles before his hand comes up to your face, cupping it for a second then he leans and kisses you. His lips felt so soft, so warm just like how you imagined them felt. You couldn’t explain the feeling, it was like you were in dream, it’s incredible.

Soon Hyunjin deepens the kiss, letting his tongue enter your mouth as one of his hand keeps your face in place, the other snaked down your body to your waist. Your tongue swiped against his lips, and you tasted a bit of lemonade and tequila. If this was a way to drink tequila, then you were all for it.

“Up,” he pulls away to say and you listen jumping onto the counter with the help of his grip. You spread your legs so he can stand in between them. He looks at you in awe, he couldn’t control his smile.

“You didn’t answer me..” he says as his hands find their way under your dress just resting on your thighs.

“Hm?” You whimpered, wanting his lips back on yours.

“What were you doing up on Han-Ji like that?” Hyunjin asked again, a little lower, a little more raspier now that he’s more confident to dominate you.

“To make you jealous,” you whisper back to him, admitting to all your little shenanigans.

“Why?” He couldn’t hold back his smile.

“To see if you like me back.” You say, and his ears perked up at your words.

“You got your answer?”

“Mhmm..” you admit.

“Good.”

“But.. want to hear you say it,” you reply cheekily, your arms coming to wrap around his shoulders to pull him close to you so your lips are barely touching.

He lets out an airy breath before pressing a kiss to your lips, letting it linger on for a little bit just to make your heart flutter once more for him. “I like you,” he says, and you try to conceal the smile pulling up on your face. “Happy?”

“Yes.”

“Where were we?” Hyunjin says and you pull him back onto you.

Maybe it was the pent up sexual tension you both had been holding in as, as soon as your lips were connected again, it became again heated. His hands are fondling with your thighs, and his tongue is slipped back down your mouth. You feel a hot sensation making its way to your core, a moan slipping from your lips. He smirked in between the kisses, his hands inching up higher now hiking you dress up.

Hyunjin continues his kisses down your neck, and you tilt your head back, letting him cover more area with his lips.

As he harshly sucks on your neck, your hands start to explore his body, caressing up and down his chest, down his covered stomach. You slowly creep them lower to his hard on that was pressing against the counter, begging to be touch. He lets out a groan at the contact.

“Hyunjin?” you whimpered at how stiff he was. You both wanted more but not on this cold bathroom counter. “Are we actually doing this here?” You ask.

“Where else would you do it?” Hyunjin looks down at you his a raised eyebrow, his hands stopping at your hips.

You look around before cheekily suggesting, “Minho’s bed,” and he cracks up.

“Come,” he takes a step back to hold your hand as you jump off the counter.

Hyunjin pulls you back onto him as he sat back on Minho’s bed - it was comfier than he expected, it was actually quite comfy to fuck on actually.

“You’re such a good kisser, it making me so horny,” He says, gripping your thighs so you’re straddling him. You feel his hard-on abusing your core and you become like jelly, draping yourself onto him. God, it was also making you so horny.

Are you both really gonna fuck in your best friend’s bed? Probably.

“Hyunjin?” You start to suck on his neck, returning the marks he gave you. “Wanna blow you… can I?” You asked, rolling your hips onto his.

He sucks in a sharp breath at the pleasure, halting your hips. “Fuck— kitten..” The pet name slipping from his lips, making you stop whatever you were doing to look him in the eyes. Did he just call you kitten? And did you like it?

“Yeah? Wanna be a good kitten? And suck me off right here in your best-friend room?” He teased after seeing your eyes lit up at the name.

“Yes.. wanna be a good kitten,” you replied, lifting his shirt to slowly to expose his abs, your hand lazily runs across his milky body.

You shuffled back, kneeling down by the bed before peeking at his happy trail. You finally got to see it up close, and you didn’t waste anytime before attaching your lips to it. Hyunjin’s hand flung to hold onto your hair and he lets out a groan as you suck the skin around his navel.

“You’re just like a kitten, nipping into me like that,” he moans.

“You love it,” you teased him.

“Yeah I do..” he confesses breathlessly. “Couldn’t stop thinking back to gym class yesterday.. how you eyed it all lesson..” Oh, so he caught you staring but didn’t say anything?

“Was it driving you insane?” He torments and you murmured nodding your head.

“God, kitten… need your mouth now, I’m might cum untouched,” he begs and you chuckle, blowing hot air from your mouth at his skin causing him to flinch.

You give him what he wants. You undo his jeans, shimmering it down his thighs before palming him through his boxer.

“Y/N, please..” he begs again, closing his eyes to hold in his release.

“You’re so big,” you say the second you pull down his boxer letting his red rock solid dick slap across his stomach. You didn’t expect him to be him to be this big, this thick. You gulp at it before wrapping your hands around him. “Wanna taste..” you blabbered as you brought his tip to your lips.

Hyunjin’s head kick back as you wrap your lips around his head. His hands gripped your hair tightly as he starts to set the pace, and you let him. He pushes you down taking half his length into your mouth before guiding you back up. You moan as he slides down your mouth, unable to control the pleasure you were having from just giving him head. Once you go match his pace, Hyunjin lets go of his grip and runs his through your hair, endlessly praising you as he tries to keeps himself together.

“You’re so good—” he sucks in another breath.

You take him fully into your mouth and gagged once he hits the back of your throat. “Ahh, cuming- cuming—” he lets out a low grunt as he paints your throat white. You swallow the warm thick liquid before letting go of him with a pop.

“Kitten, you’re so perfect. Such a good mouth,” he says finding your arm and pulling up to sit on his lap.

“Can I return the favour?” His hand wrapped around your hips, his finger carefully gathering the fabric of your skirt so he can expose your panties.

“I don’t know if I can keep quiet Hyunjin,” you admitted. You can still hear the loud music outside, even if it was muffled by the walls but a part of you’re still afraid someone might hear you. You couldn’t even keep it in while making out, nor sucking him off, you don’t know how you’ll be if you guys actually have sex.

“But I can’t leave you high like this,” Hyunjin replies, his two fingers just touching the fabric of your panties that was getting soaked by your wetness. You kick your head back at the pleasures “I just know you’re wet from sucking me off.. Let me, let me just eat you out..” he begged, his eyes turned dark full of lust.

“Please,” you gave in, out of breath.

Hyunjin plants a kiss to your neck before laying you down on the bed.

“Fuck, you are soaked,” Hyunjin says the second he lifts up your dress and sees the huge wet patch on your underwear. He kneels down and peels it off, watching a thin line of your wetness pulls off with it. Hyunjin spreads your legs wider and his eyes rolls to the back of his head as exposes you. You were wet, glistening, it was so hot to him.

You let out a moan as the cold from Minho’s room brushed against your core. “Please, need your mouth,” it was your turn to beg.

Hyunjin complies and attached his lips to your pussy. “Ahh! Mhmm.. More..” you weren’t kidding when you said you don’t know if you can keep quiet.

Hyunjin buries his face deeper as he contents to lick all over you, his nose rubbing against your clit. He was basically pussy drunk at his stage, gripping and pulling your hip closer to his faces. Your head falls back as you feel the pleasure building up in your core, your thighs volunteering closing around his head to add more pressure.

“I’m going cum, please.. Hyunjin— gonna cum..” you whine as he harshly sucks on your clit now, it was basically the cheat code in making you cum and he was able to get it the first time.

You moaned as you feel a glush of wetness explode from your core, you had cum. Hyunjin can tell you’re orgasming but he didn’t want to stop, you were too addicting.

You had to rip him off of you before you were overstimulated. “Hyunjin, too much,” you whined and he finally lifts his head.

“You taste too good kitten, sorry couldn’t stop,” he says and he wipes your wetness around his mouth with the back of his hand before licking it.

“Come here,” he jumps on the bed, pulling you into his arms. He runs his finger through your hair as you recover. You both stare at each other for a while before falling into a fit of giggles. How crazy is it that you were each other’s crush and not realising it.

“Should we go back out?” He asked smoothing down your hair.

“I have to touch up my lipstick first,” you say, pecking his nose.

“Let me help you,” he pulls you up from the bed before back hugging you to the bathroom where your bag was.

“Back to mine tonight, okay?” He reminded you softly as he wipes your lipstick in your lips - a hint of innocence radiating from him like he didn’t just lap up all your juices like a greedy animal.

“Of course, I have no where else I rather be tonight,” you answered, grinning from ear to ear at your pretty boy.

“Can’t believe it took you to squeeze into that tiny chair with Han-Ji for me to tell you,” Hyunjin beats himself up.

“It’s okay Hyunjin, I reckon the timing was perfect,” you reassured.

The house was packed now than before, it took you and Hyunjin a while to squeeze through all the people. Minho watch as you both hold hands, happily, making your way down the stairs, his smug pulling back on his face.

“Who got the bragging rights?” Minho asks cheekily as you both walk past him.

“You.” You answered rolling your eyes and Hyunjin laughs.

“You also got a messy bed too, bro,” Hyunjin taps Minho by the shoulders before following you.

Minho was left mouth agape as he stares up at the stairs. “Did they just…”

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