#that first song always makes me chuckle
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carrotblr · 2 years ago
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op deleted their banger omi omi playlist off spotify 😔 good thing its still on the tube 👍👍
youtube
00:00 Asking Alexandria - Antisocialist 03:35 Lewis Blissett - Sick Thoughts 06:56 Takayan - ゴミ人間でごめんなさい 08:38 StéLouse feat. Bryce Fox - Sociopath 12:04 Natasha Blume - Black Sea 16:15 Mattis - The Chain 20:18 Three Days Grace - I Am An Outsider 23:01 Agust D - 어떻게 생각해? (What do you think?) 26:08 Escape The Fate - Hate Me 30:16 Kihyun of MONSTA X - Believer (cover) 33:37 NF - My Stress 37:50 Unlike Pluto - Sanity 40:38 Three Days Grace - Pain 44:03 Bring Me The Horizon - medicine 47:49 Ruben, Emma Steinbakken - Melancholia 50:55 Missio - I Don't Give A... 54:25 XYLØ - Yes & No
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pseudowho · 3 months ago
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"--and this is the staffroom," Gojo sing-songed, swinging open the door on your First Day Tour, with you a few steps behind him, "--ah! And that's Nanamin. Say hi, Nanamin!"
A tall, suited blond man looked up from his spot on the sofa as you peered in; at first, he simply nodded to you, disinterested. Then, Gojo spoke again while leading you out.
"--he's not very fun, don't worry-- no sense of humour."
Your final glimpse as the door closed, was of the blond man's irritated scowl.
It was true; Kento clearly didn't make people laugh, for he was either too mean or too subtle to be funny. This was the case, at least, until you. And you had no idea what your laughter did to him.
You had formed an alliance of respect, an easy bond that would have been camaraderie if not for Kento's standoffishness. You felt him hover nearby on joint missions, close enough to lunge to your rescue, but far enough that he could resist your magnetism.
Talking, and surveying the abandoned school, you spoke aloud as you walked down the stairs.
"So perhaps I'll take the East Wing, and you take the We--ergh!"
You reeled back, having walked headfirst into a buckled ceiling. Kento stepped to your aid, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket, and lifting your chin to look at your forehead. He huffed, barely a puff of breath through his nose, wiping dust from your forehead before grumbling.
"You'll be alright. Not much in there, anyway."
You burst into laughter, and Kento electrified, absolutely rigid. You patted his chest, still giggling as you walked away, cooing back over your shoulder in a way that utterly melted him.
"So mean."
You soon learned that Nanami Kento was possibly the funniest man at Jujutsu High. Dry and unforgiving in a way that made your brittle colleagues crumble, you found yourself, instead, choking back laughter every time he crippled one with another savage put-down.
When Yuuji arrived late to a mission, Kento stepped over to him and, poe-faced, pulled up his shirtsleeve to show Yuuji his wrist.
"This," Kento hummed, flat, "is a watch. You can buy one at any good supermarket."
When a waiter slopped coffee over Kento's shoulder, Kento dabbed at it to the waiter's frantic, apologetic bowing. Kento raised a placating hand and insisted to the confused waiter.
"It's alright. I never liked this suit anyway."
When you stood at the staffroom window with him, watching a monsoon in companionable silence, Kento murmured over the rim of his mug.
"Lovely day."
He had timed it just-so, and barely concealed his lopsided smirk when you choked on your tea. Shoko walked in, drenched, looking at you and Kento in dismay. You coughed, opening your mouth to speak, but Kento got there first, firing shots.
"Is it raining?"
Shoko scoffed, sputtering, while you buckled against the windowsill.
Kento grabbed a hand towel and an umbrella, heading to the door. As Shoko reached for the towel, Kento pressed the umbrella into her hands instead, his expression flat, but his voice edged with a feral pleasure that made you come undone.
"You'll need this."
Kento's meanness was tempered only by his self-deprecation, and when you took as good as you gave, you felt his icey facade melt away completely, revealing such warmth.
It was no wonder you were drawn to each other, when the only reason neither of you laughed together, was because you were in a constant stand-off for who could remain poe-faced the longest. Kento always won.
Still, you felt the need to break him; you had cracked smiles, or the occasional chuckle out of him, but nothing more. You knew nothing more than the truest irony would do it.
The day came; you arrived, to your usual staffroom rendezvous, covered in blood. Kento paled, abandoning his book to rise immediately and reach you in three long strides.
"--you're hurt-- we'll go to Sho--"
"Kento. Stop. It's not my blood-- it's Gojo's."
Kento did a double-take, his eyes narrowing in disbelief, so you explained.
"Gojo invited himself to teach me about Curses that are 'above my paygrade', so he took me to one. I told him this Curse was clearly more powerful than it looked, and Gojo told me to step back so he could handle it. Said he'd even do it without his Infinity on. So I stepped back."
Kento's nose flared, barely perceptible.
"...and?"
You took a deep breath. "So, Gojo has a broken nose--"
Kento broke down with a wheeze, before bursting into a rich, deep rolling laughter that split the clouds with sun. His hands clasped the windowsill, his eyes crinkled, and his shoulders shook with wicked, throaty mirth.
You felt yourself becoming drunk off him, utterly intoxicated by his laughter. Kento couldn't stop himself, trembling with schadenfreude to the point of indecency.
Finally, sighing and straightening as if exhausted, Kento wiped his eyes with the side of his finger, and smiled at you with sweet adoration. Laughter still threatened to break through as he begged you.
"Would you-- would you like to go out for dinner? With me?"
You paused, your expression pained.
"Ah...no. No, thank you."
Kento froze, his face beginning to fall. You looked down at yourself, and announced, still deadpan.
"It's just-- I'm covered in blood, you see--"
That sent Kento over the edge again.
You remained content throughout the years of your marriage, for Nanami Kento to be viewed by others as boring and humourless. You found yourself jealously greedy of his rare laughter, anyway.
After marriage, you viewed it as the highest badge of honour to make him laugh like that while he was buried inside you.
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hollandsangel · 11 months ago
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voice | m. sturniolo
i had this idea a million years ago, please enjoy!!
summary: chris wonders if you can tell his and matt’s voice apart
warnings: super fluffy!! a bit suggestive at the very end, i’m questioning if it’s good or not
wc: 1.6k
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gif by @mattsturnioloarchive !
“i call shower first!” you exclaim the second the garage door is open, sprinting past matt up the stairs to his bathroom.
“there’s three showers,” chris says matter-of-factly as you blow past him on the steps, holding a hand out in confusion.
matt sighs and follows behind you, passing chris as well, “yeah, but you don’t have to share,” 
you’re already on the mainfloor, running into matt’s bedroom to grab the change of clothes you’d left earlier.
“i’m so glad i don’t have a girlfriend,” chris mutters, earning a smack upside the head from nick, “jesus, fuck, what,”
“you’re just annoying,” nick says, deciding it’s a good enough explanation and getting a laugh out of matt.
“agreed,” matt’s still chuckling when they reach the kitchen table, setting down the take out the four of you had gotten on your way back to the house. he hears the water turn on in his bathroom, accompanied by the soft sound of your voice as you sing along to your music.
“oh she’s a nicki fan,” nick says to no one in particular, referencing the tik tok sound when he notices you’re listening to a nicki minaj song. 
matt looks up from the bag of food and laughs.
chris sinks into the couch but looks over at matt, arm slung over the cushions, “i wonder if she could tell our voices apart,” he says after a second. 
“what?” matt asks, thinking the question is mildy rediculous. 
“like do you think she could recognize your voice?” chris explains, wandering into the kitchen now. opening a pepsi and leaning up against the counter. 
nick chimes in now, having been fiddling with the vlog camera and battery, “like compared to you and me?” he asks chris, glancing back at matt as if to say ‘is this guy for real?’
“yeah,” chris nods.
“yeah, obviously she’d be able to tell my voice apart from yours,” matt is looking back at the food again, tone matter-of-fact, as if what he’d said was absolute common sense. 
chris is quiet for about half a second and matt thinks that’s the end of that absurd conversation. it isn’t, of course. 
“should we test it out?” chris asks through a sip of soda.
matt officially gives up on trying to set the food up, throwing his hands up in mock surrender before turning to chris, “and how are we gonna do that?”
chris shrugs, but nick has an idea, “chris, you could like, just go ask her for something, if you left something in the bathroom—“
“absolutely not,” matt shuts it down immediately with a shake of his head, “you're not going in the bathroom when my girlfriend is showering,”
“i won’t even go all the way in!! i’ll cover my eyes,” chris promises, but matt is still skeptical. “i’ll just like poke my head in the door and ask if i left like..a belt or some shit in there,” is chris’ next offer. 
matt sighs and thinks about it, weighing the pros and cons. of course you can tell his voice apart from his brothers…right? he’s making himself nervous, pysching himself out and worrying they all sound the same to you. it upsets him for some reason, he can’t quite decide why.
“fine,” he agrees after a beat of silence, convincing himself you know whis voice well enough to separate it from chris’, and if you can’t, he thinks he might actually feel a sick twinge of unjustified jealousy.
“yes,” chris mutters under his breath, always excited to pull a prank on anyone.
“this is definitely going in the vlog,” nick says, still messing with the camera and coming to sit at the kitchen table where matt is now.
“i can’t believe i agreed to this,” matt mumbles, rubbing his eyes and taking a deep breath. he stands from his seat and walks over to the wall where he can see the bathroom door, feeling some what protective, like he needs to supervise chris to make sure he doesn’t wander too far into the bathroom.
“what should i say?” chris turns back arms pulled in close to his body as if he’s nervous. he’s already grinning and trying to keep from laughing.
“ooh, call her sweetheart, matt always does that,” nick suggests, wiggling his brows in matt’s direction to tease him.
“oh my god,” matt groans softly, rubbing at his eyes, “i fucking hate you guys,”
“okay, i’m going in,” matt drops his hands at that, eyes on his brother immediately. chris puts a hand over his eyes, just as he said he said he would before knocking on the door. nick has the camera out to record and is trying to stifle his laugh in the collar of his hoodie.
at the sound of the knock matt hears your voice, calling out for him, no doubt thinking it’s him at the door. he has to cover his mouth, partly out of nerves but also to keep himself from saying anything.
“yeah,” chris starts, needing to take a second before continuing because he’s already making himself laugh. “yeah, sweetheart, did i leave my belt in here?” he asks, barely stood in the doorway of the bathroom.
“uhh, i think it’s in your bedroom?” you say after a slight pause, about to poke your head out from behind the shower curtain, but chris has already mumbled a ‘thanks’ and essentially sprinted out of the bathroom, closing the door and crumbling to the floor in giggles.
“you’re not fucking real,” matt shakes his head, laughing softly himself and pushing off the wall to go back to the kitchen table. he’s a bit bummed that you didn’t realize it wasn’t his voice, but he keeps that to himself.
nick pans the camera over to matt’s face, which seems expressionless, even with both his brothers cackling outside of the frame.
you come out of the bathroom in a cloud of steam, heading into matt’s bedroom to drop the clothes you’d changed out of. matt is instantly sitting back up, the legs of his chair scraping along the hardwood floors.
“ooh, someone’s pissed,” nick turns the camera to himself, eyeing the now closed door.
“that was too fucking good,” chris says after a deep breath, still recovering from laughing so hard. he pulls a chair out next to nick and the two start to explain what had happened to the camera, eyes flicking up to matt’s door every few seconds.
in the bedroom you’re putting your dirty clothes back into your bag when matt comes in, looking a little bit pouty, “hey baby,” you turn towards him, laughing at the slightly pathetic look he gives you, “what’s up?” you wonder.
“m’ tired,” he tells you, slumping up against you for a hug. you wrap your arms around him and rub his back, letting him lay his weight into you.
“we’ll eat and go to bed, yeah?” you give his back another little pat when he nods against you, “mkay, let’s go,” you kiss his cheek quickly, only to have him turn his head in search of a real kiss. you oblige of course.
nick and chris have already started eating and updating the vlog on their day when you and matt come out of the bedroom. matt joins them at the table but you head for the fridge to grab a drink. “oh, did you find your belt?” you ask matt, still digging around.
“what?— oh yeah” he mumbles, gaze turned down to his fries.
“okay good. by the way you sounded so much like chris when you came in— it freaked me the fuck out” you say with your head in the fridge, still searching for the diet coke you know you left inside the door, “did one of you drink my coke–”
“wait what?” matt’s head snaps up, food forgotten.
“hmm?” you turn around to find all three boys looking at you. nick’s mouth open in a half smile and chris clearly trying not to burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. matt’s just staring at you with eyes a little bit too wide before he speaks up.
“what do you mean i sounded weird?” he asks, leaning forward. you notice nick’s shut up about whatever he was saying to the camera earlier, pointing the lens at you now.
“i dunno, when you said sweetheart it just sounded super fucking weird— why are you guys looking at me like that–” you have to ask, feeling slightly weirded out by the intensity of their gazes
“i knew it!!” matt cheers, punching the air and doing a silly little dance as nick doubles over and starts hitting the table.
chris’ jaw drops and he presses his fingers into his eyes as he laughs next to his brother, leaning on him.
matt bounds over to you with a grin, arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you off the ground slightly.
“whaaaat,” you giggle, clearly confused by their reaction. 
“it was me,” chris manages to say between bouts of laughter, “we– we were trying to see if you could tell our voices apart.”
“of course i can tell your voices apart, especially your voice,” you turn towards matt, saying it like it should be obvious, like it’s silly they doubted you for even a second. 
matt’s just grinning at you, feeling a strange sense of pride swelling in his chest, “i knew you could,” 
“bullshit!” chris exclaims, both him and nick still leaning against each other as they laugh.
“he’s right, you were freaked the fuck out,” nick manages to say between giggles, “you watched chris like a fucking hawk when he opened the bathroom door,” he looks over at you, his smile contagious, “he was definitely freaked the fuck out,”
matt groans and drops his head against your shoulder. you brush your fingers through his hair and chuckle to yourself, “awe matt,” you coo, “i definitely know your voice, i’ll probably be hearing lots of it later anyways.”
tags ! @st4rswrld @urfavvev3lyn @mattsturnioloarchive @averysbestyears @its-jennarose
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marylxvrr · 2 months ago
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" UNYIELDING LOYALTY "
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[ Play this song while you read ]
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋 — a powerful military leader who commands armies with absolute authority, but when it comes to you, his obsession knows no bounds, resorting to manipulation, threats, and even violence to keep you by his side, ensuring you never escape his control . . .
The war had raged on for months, and the wounds of battle grew ever more frequent. As a healer for the soldiers, you had grown accustomed to the horrors of war. Bloodshed was a constant, and pain was something you could no longer ignore. But it was your duty to mend what had been broken, to offer relief where it was needed most.
But nothing had prepared you for the unrelenting presence of General Ryland.
The first time you met him, it was during a fierce battle. His soldiers had brought him to your medical tent, his arm severely injured, dripping with blood as he collapsed in front of you. His eyes were wild, a fire in them that you hadn’t seen in any man before. As you tended to his wounds, his gaze never left you. It was unnerving at first, but you assumed it was just the stress of battle. After all, soldiers often acted differently in the heat of war.
But days passed, and General Ryland kept returning to you—more frequently than necessary. He would bring injured men to your tent, even if their wounds were minor, just so he could see you again. He began to watch you while you worked, his intense eyes following every movement. It didn’t take long before you realized that the general’s attention was no longer out of mere necessity.
It was something darker.
"How are they doing, Y/N?" His deep voice interrupted your thoughts as you carefully applied a bandage to a soldier’s leg.
You flinched slightly. His voice always had a commanding edge to it, as if he expected you to drop everything and attend to him immediately.
"They’ll be fine, General," you replied, trying to sound professional, though you couldn’t ignore the discomfort that crept up on you whenever he was near.
"You’re so diligent," he murmured, stepping closer to you. His presence loomed over you, and you could feel his breath on your skin. "But you work too hard, don’t you? You need someone to care for you, Y/N."
You paused, looking up at him with a furrowed brow. "General, I’m here to take care of others."
He chuckled softly, a sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "But I’m the one who should take care of you. After all, you’re far too precious to waste yourself on these men. They don’t appreciate you the way I do."
You tried to ignore the way his words made your chest tighten, the way his intense gaze made your skin crawl. He had always been so cold, so distant. But now, with each passing day, you could see the obsessive obsession in his eyes. It was unsettling.
"You don’t have to worry about me, General," you said, trying to step away from him. "I’m just doing my job."
But he wasn’t listening. Before you could move, his hand shot out, grabbing your wrist firmly. His touch was cold, almost clinical, but there was an undeniable possessiveness to it.
"No," he said quietly, his grip tightening. "I don’t think you understand. You’re mine, Y/N. You belong to me now."
Your heart raced as his words sank in, a cold shiver running down your spine. There was no kindness in his gaze—only a dark, possessive hunger. The way he looked at you now was not the way a general looked at his subordinate. It was the gaze of a man who thought he owned you, who believed that you were his to command.
"General, please," you tried to pull away, but his grip only tightened. "I have to help the others. I can’t stay with you."
"Stay with me?" He smirked, a wicked gleam in his eyes. "You’re already with me. Don’t you see? There is no ‘other.’ There’s only us. You will stay by my side, where you belong. I’ll make sure of it."
His voice was soft now, soothing, as though he were speaking to a child. But the words held a dark promise, and you felt a wave of dread wash over you. His obsession was growing stronger every day, and you were helpless to stop it.
You tried to move away once more, but this time, his hand shot to your arm, pulling you against his chest with startling strength.
"Don’t fight me," he whispered into your ear. "I’ve given you everything. I’m your protector, your guardian. You don’t need anyone else. No one else can care for you the way I do."
His fingers traced the side of your face, and you shuddered. The warmth of his touch was suffocating, and yet, he held you with the certainty of a man who believed you were his possession. You were trapped, unable to escape from the general’s ever-tightening grip.
"You are mine," he repeated, his voice thick with possessiveness. "And I will never let you go."
As you stood there, helpless in his arms, you knew that your life had changed forever. The war was no longer the greatest danger you faced. The real battle had only just begun.
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roturo · 2 months ago
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❝ MOVE, IT'S A FALSE GOD ❞
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A rising drug dealer returns to Zaun, igniting a "dangerous" power struggle. Tension turns into passion, old routes blur, who will control the game?
⤹ warnings: power dynamics, older man/younger woman, age gap, dom/sub dynamics, angst, begging, pwp, sexual tension, afab!reader praising, pet names, fingering.
⤹ songs used: move - taemin, false god - taylor swift, black swan - bts, danger - txt, automatic - red velvet.
The air in Silco’s private office was thick with smoke, curling around the dim amber light that spilled from a single lamp. You leaned against the chair, the same old chair you used to sit to just watch the man infront of you start creating what would be the ruin of Zean, his blue eye lifting from the long forgotten documents he was supposedly reading before your entrance— arms crossed, your confidence unwavering despite the sharp gaze he leveled at you— or at least, that’s what you try to pretend.
“It’s been a while,” you said pretending nonchalantly, tilting your head to meet his eyes. “I almost thought you’d forgotten about me, Silco. But here we are.”
He didn’t answer immediately, instead taking a slow drag from his cigar, letting the silence stretch. It was the same with him as always—every move, every glance, carefully calculated to put others on edge. Once, it had worked on you.
Not anymore.
“I don’t forget,” Silco said finally, his voice low and deliberate. “Especially not those who think they can play in my waters without permission.”
You chuckled, a sound that carried a hint of mockery. “Is that what this is about? Permission? I didn’t think you’d care, considering how… insignificant I used to be.”
His eye twitched, just barely, and you knew you’d struck a nerve. It was subtle, but years of knowing him had taught you how to read those tiny cracks in his armor.
“You were a child then,” he said, his tone clipped. “A reckless, naïve—”
“And now?” you interrupted, stepping closer, your confidence cutting through the haze of smoke. “Still think I’m a child, Silco? Because from where I’m standing, I seem to be doing just fine without your approval. Even starting to strike your own success.”
For a moment, he didn’t respond. His good eye studied you, cold and unblinking, but there was something else there too—something that betrayed his calm exterior.
“You’ve built quite the reputation,” he said at last, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful. “Impressive, even. But reputations don’t protect you when you’re making enemies on all sides. Especially not mine.”
You smiled, slow and sharp. “Funny. I was going to say the same thing to you.”
He laughed, his breathless old laugh bringing the same warm (and rare) feeling to your chest. He looked at you in a way you couldn’t describe, he was always the one you looked up for, not Vander, not Vi, him. Even when everything went to shit.
“You think i’m feeling threatened by your presence here when you’re the one who always kept following around when you were just a clueless teenager trying to survive here?”
He smirked to himself, if you didn’t know him all this years you wouldn’t be able to see it, he took another long drag of his cigarette, making sure to look at you with a tentative face, like he’s testing the waters.
Silco’s smirk lingered as his gaze roamed over you, deliberate and slow. It wasn’t the predatory kind that most in the Undercity wielded like a weapon—no, this was something subtler, more dangerous. He let the silence between you stretch again, his presence pulling the air tight, as if daring you to speak first.
You didn’t.
He leaned back in his chair, the sharp edge of his posture softening just enough to make him seem almost at ease. The movement was calculated, you knew—it always was with him—but the faint trail of smoke curling lazily from his cigar only added to the intimacy of the space.
“You’ve certainly grown,” he said, his tone low and silken, as though the words were more for himself than for you.
It wasn’t a compliment. At least, not entirely. But the way his eye flicked down to where your fingers rested on the edge of his desk, nails tapping a faint rhythm, made you feel as though he was cataloging every inch of you.
“Out of your shadow, I’d say,” you replied smoothly, letting your lips curve into a faint smirk of your own. “Which I imagine doesn’t sit well with you, does it?”
He exhaled another cloud of smoke, the corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Is that what you think this is? Some petty tantrum over losing control?”
“Isn’t it?” you countered, stepping closer. The glow of the lamp cast a golden hue across your skin as you closed the space between you, slow and deliberate.
You saw his eye darken slightly, his gaze following your movement with the precision of a predator assessing its prey. But he didn’t move away. If anything, the tension between you only seemed to tighten as you came to a stop just shy of touching him.
“Careful,” he murmured, voice dropping to a near whisper. “You’re playing a game you’re not prepared to lose.”
You tilted your head, meeting his gaze without flinching. “Maybe I intend to lose. Maybe I know exactly what I’m doing.”
The sound he made—a low, amused hum—sent a shiver down your spine. He was close enough now that you could smell the faint metallic edge of smoke and shimmer clinging to his suit.
“Do you, though?” he asked, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his desk, the movement drawing you in until there was barely a breath of space between you.
Your pulse quickened, but you refused to look away. His good eye searched yours, his smirk softening into something more dangerous. Not threatening, but something far worse: intrigued.
“You’ve always had fire,” he said softly, the words hanging in the air between you. “But ambition without restraint… That’s a dangerous thing in this world.”
“And yet, here I am,” you shot back, your voice steady, though your chest tightened at the weight of his words.
His gaze dipped briefly—to your lips, before sliding back up to meet your eyes. It was fleeting, but unmistakable.
“You’re bold,” he admitted, his voice dropping further, the gravel in it brushing against your nerves. “But boldness doesn’t mean you can stand the heat when you step into the fire.”
“Maybe,” you said, leaning forward until you were close enough to feel the faint warmth of his breath on your skin, “I just enjoy the burn.”
For the briefest moment, you saw something flicker in his gaze—something he quickly buried behind a sharp inhale and another pull from his cigar. But the tension lingered, coiling tight between you like a rope about to snap.
His eye sharpened as your words hung in the air. That flicker of intrigue you’d seen moments ago twisted into something darker, something colder—and yet impossibly more magnetic.
“You think you’ve got it all figured out,” he said, his voice soft but cutting. “That your rise makes you untouchable. But even kings can fall.”
Your lips parted in a quiet scoff. “Kings fall when they stop watching the board. And as far as I can see, you’re the one sitting comfortably on your throne while the ground beneath you starts to crack.”
His laugh was low, more exhalation than sound, as he leaned back in his chair. “A clever metaphor,” he murmured, his tone almost amused, silently nodding to your point. Who would’ve known you would turn this way, follow his path—and even his words? The realization sparked a strange feeling deep in his stomach, a warm, fuzzy sensation creeping up his neck.
“But let me remind you,” he continued, his voice still smooth, “who built that board you’re so eager to play on.”
“And let me remind you,” you shot back, stepping even closer, “that no one stays untouchable forever—not even you.”
For a moment, there was nothing but the hum of tension between you, the air too thick with smoke and unsaid words. And then he moved.
It wasn’t a grand gesture, not with Silco. He didn’t need one. Instead, he stood, the slow scrape of his chair against the floor sending a chill down your spine. By the time he was upright, he had erased the distance you’d carefully maintained, stepping into your space with a precision that left no room for retreat.
“Careful,” he warned, his voice barely above a whisper. The closeness made it feel like a growl. “You might end up liking the view from your knees.”
You felt your breath hitch before you could stop it. The words struck something deep and primal, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of faltering—even though those words stirred something inside you, a desire, a want… a need.
“And you might find,” you said, voice steady despite the way your heart pounded, “that even from my knees, I can be the one in control.”
Something in his expression shifted—just barely, but you caught it. That sharp, calculating mask cracked for a fraction of a second, and you saw the flicker of frustration—or was it fascination?—beneath it.
He reached for the desk behind you, his hand brushing the edge as he leaned in, caging you against it without ever truly touching you. The faint smell of smoke and ash filled your senses, grounding you even as the tension spiraled. All you could smell was his expensive perfume mixed with the burn of his daily cigarettes—his scent, only his.
Maybe your group was waiting for you, wondering what the hell you were doing with Silco, maybe even planning what to do if he killed you. But the situation you were in now was far better than anything else you’d ever experienced. This was the dirty, dangerous dream of a naïve teenager—the dream you’d always had since the first time you met him. You couldn’t risk losing it now.
“You don’t understand what you’re toying with,” he said, his voice lower now, almost a rasp.
“Don’t I?” you challenged, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. “You’re the one who called me here, Silco. So tell me—what exactly are you afraid of?”
The silence that followed was deafening. His eye bore into yours, searching, testing, as though trying to unravel the web you’d spun between the two of you.
And then he smiled. Not the sharp, mocking grin you’d expected, but something slower, quieter—dangerous in its restraint.
“Fear isn’t the word I’d use,” he said, his voice like silk. “But perhaps… curiosity.”
Silco's gaze never wavered from yours as he took a slow, deliberate step forward. There was no more room between you—no space for retreat, no escape from the storm building in the air around you. His scent, his presence, overwhelmed you, filling your lungs and sinking into your skin.
His hand reached up, but this time it wasn't to push you away— it was to lift your chin, gently, but with undeniable force. His touch was cold, his fingers rough against the delicate curve of your jaw, and yet the heat radiating off him burned you alive. You could barely breathe beneath the intensity of his stare.
“I'm curious,” he murmured, voice low and dark, like the very shadows that filled the room. His thumb brushed along your lower lip, soft yet commanding, testing, teasing.
“Do you know what you're asking for?”
Your heart was pounding, but you refused to show weakness. You forced your gaze to stay locked on his, your breath shallow as you leaned into his touch, letting the burn of his fingers draw you closer. You could feel the weight of his presence, the power he exuded, the way it seeped into your very bones.
“I think,” you breathed, voice trembling just slightly, “I'm asking you to show me.”
The words had barely left your lips when his face closed the distance between you, his breath mingling with yours in a shared, heated exhale. His lips hovered above yours, close enough to taste, but he didn't kiss you —no. Instead, he let the anticipation hang, let it build, until you were certain you couldn't take it anymore. Every inch of your skin felt like it was on fire, and all you could think about was the want-the desperate, aching need that had been simmering between you for so long.
“Show you?” he repeated, his voice thick, almost a growl. “You're bold to ask for that.”
Without warning, he pulled you closer, his hand gripping the back of your neck with a quiet authority that made your pulse spike.
His lips finally brushed against yours, a fleeting kiss, as light and delicate as the whisper of a shadow. But that brief touch was enough to send a jolt of heat through your entire body, making your knees threaten to buckle.
Before you could recover, he deepened the kiss-fierce, hungry, as if he'd been waiting for this moment as much as you. His other hand slid to your waist, pulling you flush against him. The heat between you was suffocating, your bodies tangled as the kiss grew more desperate, more urgent. You could feel his heart pounding in sync with yours, the strength in his body pressed against yours, both of you craving something neither could name.
The kiss was a collision of fire and ice, a dangerous dance of control and surrender.
His lips were demanding, possessive, but you matched him, not allowing him to dominate entirely. Every time he pulled back, you followed, chasing him like a moth to a flame.
He pulled away suddenly, leaving you breathless, eyes dark with a mixture of lust and something more complicated-something deeper.
“I've always liked fire,” he rasped, voice rougher now, as though the kiss had burned him just as much as it had you. “But fire... it burns. And you're playing with it.”
You weren't sure if it was the heat of the moment, the way his hands had claimed you, or the raw hunger in his voice-but something inside you snapped.
“I'd say l'm more like an ice burn,” you murmured, your voice dripping with defiance.
Before he could respond, you surged forward, taking control, your lips crashing against his in a kiss that was anything but delicate. 
The hunger between you was instantaneous, primal, as your hands gripped him with a new sense of authority. Silco had always been the one in charge, but now the roles had reversed, and you were the one pulling him closer, pushing him back against the desk with an intensity that left him breathless.
His shock didn't last long. Silco's hands moved, as though to regain control, but you were quicker. You pulled him firmly against you, forcing him to the edge of the desk, caging him there with your body. Your kiss was hungry, urgent, as though you were trying to consume him, and it felt like you were doing just that-biting, tugging, exploring him in ways that left no room for hesitation.
Silco's breath hitched, but this time it wasn't from power-it was from you. You were the one dominating the kiss now, your hands roaming across his chest, your body pressing him down with a quiet strength. He groaned against your lips, caught off guard by your sudden shift, and yet there was no resistance in him now. Only the heat of his body, the fire in his gaze.
His hands found your hips, but you didn't let him move you. You weren't done. Not yet.
“You think you control everything,” you said between kisses, your voice low and teasing.
“But even you can't resist me now.”
His hands tightened on your waist, but he didn't pull you away. Instead, he seemed to surrender to it, to you. His kiss deepened, now one of want-raw and desperate, matching your own intensity as you continued to trap him against the desk.
“Then show me,” he growled against your lips, hands gripping your back, pulling you closer until your bodies were flush against each other. “Prove it.” Silco's growl sent a shiver down your spine, his hands tightening on your waist with just enough pressure to remind you exactly who was in charge here. You may have thought you could control the moment, but Silco wasn't one to be caged-or tamed.
The smirk tugging at your lips faltered as his hands moved, sliding up your back and pulling you flush against him. His strength was effortless, his grip commanding, and the air between you seemed to crackle as he tilted his head, his lips grazing yours in a way that sent a jolt of heat through your entire body.
“Mercy?” he murmured, his voice dangerously soft, though his grip on you was anything but. “You seem to be under the impression that I allow mercy.”
The air between you crackled with tension, charged with an electricity that prickled your skin as Silco's hands tightened on your waist. You could feel the heat radiating off him, the power in his grip, and it only fueled the fire burning within you.
"I don't want mercy," you breathed, your voice low and husky, your lips hovering just a hair's breadth from his.
His good eye darkened at your words, a low growl rumbling in his chest that you could feel more than hear. In a swift movement, he grasped your thighs and lifted you onto the desk, his body moving between your legs as he pinned you there with his weight.
The sudden shift left you breathless, your heart pounding wildly as you looked up at him, his face illuminated by the dim amber light of the lamp. His eye searched yours, intense and focused, as if trying to unravel the secrets hidden beneath your skin.
"Careful what you wish for," he murmured, his voice a low, dangerous purr. His hand slid up your thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he leaned in closer, his lips ghosting along your jawline. “Who would’ve thought you would turn into this nasty dearly thing huh?”
You shivered at his touch, at the way his breath felt against your skin, hot and heavy with want. Your hands gripped his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his shirt as you arched into him, desperate for more.
"I'm not afraid of you," you whispered, your lips brushing against his ear. "Are you?"
His response was a sharp nip to your earlobe, followed by a low chuckle that sent a shiver down your spine.
"Oh, I'm not afraid," he murmured, his hand sliding higher, fingers brushing against the hem of your skirt. "But you should be."
You gasped as his fingers pushed under the fabric, trailing fire across your skin as they moved higher and higher. Your head fell back, eyes fluttering closed as you lost yourself in the sensation, in the way his touch ignited every nerve ending in your body.
"Enlighten me, Eye of Zaun.”
Silco's response was a low growl, a sound of pure hunger as he captured your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue delved into your mouth, claiming you, possessing you, as his hands roamed your body with a desperate need.
You moaned into the kiss, your own hands tangling in his hair as you pulled him closer, deeper. The heat between you was suffocating, all-consuming, and you felt like you were drowning in the depths of your own desire.
His hands slipped under your shirt, fingers splaying across your bare skin as he broke the kiss to trail his lips down your neck. You arched into him, head thrown back in ecstasy as he left a path of fire across your throat, teeth grazing your pulse point.
"You want me?" he growled against your skin, one hand sliding up to cup your breast through your bra. "You want to see what I can do to you?"
You nodded frantically, too lost in the sensations to form words. Your body was on fire, every touch of his hands sending shockwaves of pleasure through you.
With a low chuckle, Silco's hand deftly unclasped your bra, tossing it aside before his fingers closed around your sensitive peak. You cried out, hips bucking involuntarily as he pinched and rolled the hardening bud between his fingers.
"That's it," he purred, his voice dark with lust. "Let me hear you."
His other hand slipped through your bottoms into your panties, fingers gliding through your slick folds. You were already wet, already aching for him, and he groaned at the feel of you.
“I could practically kill you right now. Cage you— Torture you.” He chuckled as he looked at you, your mind already too lost to answer him. "So ready for me," he murmured, circling your clit with a feather-light touch that had you writhing beneath him. "So desperate."
You couldn't deny it. You were desperate, needy, aching for his touch like nothing you'd ever felt before. This was embarrassing. You always had a crush for the man, but you never stopped this low. Your hands scrabbled at his back, nails leaving crescent marks on his skin as you tried to pull him closer.
"Please," you whimpered, too far gone to care how needy you sounded. "Please, Silco."
“Who’s in control now, dear?”
“F-fuck you Silco.”
“I think it’s the other way around.”  He chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine.
His fingers slid through your slick folds, teasing, taunting, stoking the fire that burned within you. You were already so wet, so ready for him, and the knowledge only seemed to spur him on.
"Look at you," he murmured, his voice low and thick with desire. "So desperate for me, so needy."
He circled your clit with a feather-light touch, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You cried out, hips bucking involuntarily as he kept up the maddeningly slow pace.
"Please," you whimpered, too far gone to care how desperate you sounded. "Silco, please..."
He chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. His fingers continued their torturous dance, dipping inside you, stroking along your inner walls before retreating to circle your clit once more.
"What do you want, dear?" he asked, his voice a low growl. "Tell me what you need."
Your head thrashed on the desk, fingers tangling in his hair as you tried to pull him closer. You were so close, teetering on the edge of release, and yet he kept you there, balanced on a knife's edge.
"I want you," you gasped, your voice breaking on a moan as his fingers curled inside you. "I want your cock, Silco. Please, give it to me."
He groaned at your words, his eye darkening with lust. With a swift movement, he withdrew his fingers from your dripping core, leaving you empty and aching.
"Beg for it," he commanded, his voice rough with desire. "Beg me to fuck you."
You didn't hesitate, too lost in the throes of your own need to feel anything but the desperate hunger that consumed you.
"Please," you sobbed, your hips rolling shamelessly against him. "Please, Silco, I need your cock. I need you inside me, filling me, fucking me. Please, I'll do anything, just give it to me, give me your cock, please..."
You begged and pleaded, desperate for the touch of his cock, and Silco finally relented. With a low growl, he tugged your panties down your thighs, exposing your dripping core to the cool air of the room. You shivered at the sensation, at the way his eye raked over your body, taking in every inch of your exposed skin.
"So beautiful," he murmured, his voice low and thick with desire. "So perfect."
There was a calculated intensity in his gaze, a sense of purpose that sent a thrill of excitement through you. Silco was a man who knew what he wanted and went after it with unwavering focus.
He pushed your legs apart, settling between your thighs as he freed his cock from the confines of his pants. It sprang forth, hard and thick and already dripping with precum. You licked your lips at the sight, your core clenching with anticipation.
But Silco didn't rush, didn't give in to the desperate hunger that burned between you. Instead, he took his time, his fingers tracing along your slick folds with a maddeningly slow pace. You squirmed beneath his touch, your hips rolling shamelessly as you sought more of him.
"Patience," he murmured, his voice a low growl. "I'll give you what you need, but first, I want to savor every inch of you."
His words sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of fear and excitement that left you trembling. Silco was a man who took control, who demanded submission, and the thought of being at his mercy only fueled the fire that burned within you.
With a single, measured thrust, he buried himself inside you, stretching you wide around his thick length. You cried out at the sudden intrusion, your back arching off the desk as he filled you completely.
But even as he claimed you, there was a detachment in his movements, a sense that he was simply taking what he needed without any real emotional investment. He set a steady pace, his hips rocking against yours with a calculated precision that left you breathless.
Each thrust was designed to push you closer to the edge, to shatter the fragile control you clung to. His fingers dug into your hips, holding you in place as he used you for his own pleasure. There was no tenderness in his touch, no whispered words of affection or praise. Instead, there was a cold, clinical efficiency to his movements, as if he was simply fulfilling a basic need.
You could feel the coil of pleasure winding tighter and tighter in your core, your body responding to his touch despite the lack of emotional connection. Your nails scrabbled at his back, leaving crescent marks on his skin as you tried to pull him closer, to force some kind of reaction from him.
But Silco remained impassive, his eye never leaving yours as he continued to pound into you with a relentless rhythm. His breath came in short, sharp bursts, his jaw clenched tight with the effort of holding back his own release.
You could tell he was close, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate. But still, he didn't give in to the pleasure, didn't let himself fall into the abyss of ecstasy that threatened to consume you both.
With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he found his release. You could feel the hot spurt of his cum filling you, marking you as his own, and a part of you thrilled at the thought of being claimed by him.
As he pulled away, his softening cock slipping from your well-used core, you felt a sudden chill, a sense of abandonment that left you aching for something more. But you knew better than to ask for it, to beg for the affection and tenderness you craved
For a moment, his eye raked over your naked form, taking in the marks he'd left on your skin, the way your body trembled in the aftermath of your shared pleasure.
But then, as quickly as the moment had come, it passed. Silco straightened, his expression closing off and hiding the small bit of tenderness you could see once in him, becoming once again the cold, calculating man you knew him to be.
He passed you some tissues, "Clean yourself up," he ordered, his voice clipped and businesslike. "And don’t forget to tell your group to stay off what it’s not theirs"
With that, he turned and strode towards the door, leaving you lying there on the desk, exposed and vulnerable. You watched him go, a confusing mix of emotions swirling within you. There was the lingering heat of your shared passion, the ache of your body as it remembered his touch. But beneath it all was a growing sense of emptiness, a longing for something more than the cold, clinical coupling you'd just experienced.
You knew Silco was not a man given to tenderness or affection. He was a survivor, a fighter, a man who took what he wanted and moved on without a second thought. And yet, even knowing this, even understanding the futility of your desires, you couldn't help but wish for more.
With a sigh, you pushed yourself up from the desk, wincing slightly as your sore muscles protested the movement. You grabbed your discarded clothes, pulling them on with shaking hands. As you smoothed your clothes, you couldn't help but wonder what would happen next. You were sure this was not the only time you would be here begging for him after all this.
Only time would tell. But one thing was certain - you were in deep, and there was no turning back now. Silco had claimed you, marked you as his own, and whether he admitted it or not, you knew that you would always be his, no matter how much he tried to deny it.
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buckysfaveplum · 16 days ago
Text
man of the house
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summary: without each other, bucky and you wouldn’t know how to be
pairing: bucky barnes x female reader
word count: 5k
warnings: descriptions of the reader having breasts etc, bucky’s trauma, fighting, super super SUPER SOFT SMUT, (like not even but mentions) 18+!! (MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE!)
a/n: soooo this one is differentttt, and idk lmk if you like. I love Rachel's new song for Romeo + Juliet and it made me think of Bucky sooooo here we are
masterlist | send requests
How sweet
You're the man of the house to me
Water beads streamed down your back as you stood beneath the shower head. Your hair clung to you in clumps as you soaked in the calm within the tile room. Steam slowly overtook the bathroom, leaving you with smooth breaths and serenity as you scrubbed at your scalp.
You watched from through the glass door as he washed his face. His hand moved roughly without pausing as if he thought to be gentle with himself like it wasn’t necessary. He was never like that with you. His hands seemed to melt at your skin, once hard and cold suddenly silky and fragile on your body.
His left side was empty, his arm long removed and in the wash, as he prepared for the night's end. It took you so long to convince him to remove it around you, to give himself a break from the heavy load constantly being lugged on his side. He did it once for a bit. One time led to another and another. Here you were.
He brushed a lush white towel across his face. Placing it back on the counter, he began to undress. The steaming water ran off you as your eyes followed him. His shirt came off quickly, gently being placed in your laundry bin. Through the fog of the glass, you could make out his most prominent scars, scattered across his back in dark browns and reds. Some raised and a light peach, lighter than his skin. He moved to his pants, undoing his waistband and slipping them off; he discarded them the same as his shirt. 
Your voyeuristic gaze continued as he took a moment to stare at himself in the mirror. You watched as his eyes roamed over his body, clocking each imperfection that he knew you’d kiss in just a moment. Once finished, he turned to see you watching. A small smile crept on his stoic face as he took in your face through the fogged door.
He took a step closer, standing before you and looking at you through the glass. The warmth of your breath had cleared a soft view of your face through the condensation. You glanced up at him, your brows twitching up in a soft and inviting expression. A kind smile grew as you tilted your head at his gaze. Come in, join me.
You stepped back as he opened the shower door. Steam streamed from the entrance, letting in the biting cold of the outside and flushing the bathroom mirror. Clouding it, blocking any more raging thoughts of his.
He stepped inside making the small tile room shrink. He approached you slowly, stalling his movements as he stood before you undressed. He was always like this in the shower. He had no issues with nudity with you, not anymore. Showers were intimate, however. More intimate than sex for him. He’d first felt vulnerable, trapped. His showers, if you could even call them that, under Hydra more so resembled the way you would've hosed off a dog. Bathing was personal and something he never thought he’d share with someone. Until you.
His eyes were glued to your face, his hand itching to hold you close but freezing just above your hips. His brows furrowed as if pleading with you for permission.
“Hi,” you said softly, stepping closer to him. His hand finally rested on you, firmly gripping at your flesh. 
You ducked your head under his chin, resting under him. Your breasts brushed across his chest as you both breathed in the misty air of the room. His hand roamed across your body, up your waist, and to your back, pulling you close. You looked up at him, as he glanced down at you.
“You’re soft,” he said, tightening his grip on your back,
You chuckled and leaned in, beginning to press gentle kisses along his jawline. You lead them further, moving down his neck and below. You paused at the mangled scarring along his left shoulder. You placed a hand tenderly along the tissue, moving slowly across the bumps and ridges of the barrier between his body and the vibranium. As your hand moved, you felt his head press into yours, resting himself on you as you explored his most vulnerable places. 
It wasn’t the first time you’d seen it or even touched it. You’d seen him undressed so often that you barely spared a glance at it. The scarring was just him, just Bucky. You continued your kisses, placing them meekly along the scarring; before leaving a final kiss on the vibranium of his shoulder.
Your hand moved to hold his cheek and take his gaze. You pulled his face to yours, keeping him close under the hot water of the shower. Hot, never cold. Always hot, steaming the room and peeling the paint along the side of the door. You didn’t mind, you could just repaint it.
His hand slowly moved up, cupping your breast gently as he pulled you close. His lips met yours, soft and never pushing for dominance. He kissed you like he wanted to know you like he was holding a deep conversation in the dead of night when the moon’s light was all that filled the room. 
Your hand slipped down his chest, lingering at the curves and dips of his muscles; each time you encountered a scar you simply continued because it was nothing to mull over for you. It never was to you.
“I love you,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. It always became rough deeper into the night as his body prepared for rest.
“I love you, Buck,” you said.
Your movement stalled just at the bottom of his abdomen. The trimmed hairs of his lower half tickled your fingers as you paused and sought his permission. He nodded gently but quickly, leaning further into you as you took him in your hand. 
I watch you from the window and I see the good in you
The good in me
That's who you are
And what I need
It's what I need
Your legs stretched before you along the bay window seat as you watched the cars and people pass by on the streets below you. The window was swung open, letting you take in the warm summer air as you sat with your book. Your fingers danced over the pages in your hands, the text inside long forgotten as you watched outside. It had been an hour, he would be home any minute. You always did this, if you could. If you were home and knew he was coming back. You slipped your legs out and rested on the fire escape as you sat on the windowsill.
People continued to pass; laughing friends, businessmen in a rush, couples, and parents chasing their children. You couldn’t help but wonder if one day that would be you and Bucky. 
The trees along the street swayed in the wind, petals of the white flowers dotting their bushes flowing in the breeze. The pigeons sat up along the phone lines, flapping and cooing. The loud car horns below flowed into the air, mixing with the other noises around you and creating the music of your neighborhood.
You’d always loved living in Manhattan, you couldn’t imagine leaving. Until you met Bucky. Maybe it took falling in love with a local to fall in love with Brooklyn. Even if this local hadn’t lived there for 90 years. Maybe that’s what did it, seeing the timeless charm and old beauty of the borough from someone who knew it when it was younger. 
Your thoughts stilled as you saw him coming down the road. Two full bags of groceries filled his arms as he walked the worn cobblestone streets. His leather jacket was gone, a blue henley and jeans. You remembered last summer when he refused to leave the apartment without it, despite the record heat of the city. It was hard to believe that was a year ago.
His face lit up as he saw you. Sat on the window, smiling and waiting for him. He never thought he’d be there in life. Where he could leave and had to hurry home, where someone would be missing his presence and awaiting his arrival.
You leaned forward out the window, holding the metal of the ladder for support. You gave him a strong wave and giggled as he watched you. You could’ve sworn you saw his pace quicken at the sight of you. You stood on the fire escape, resting on the railing as you watched him approach your building.
“Hello, doll,” he said, smiling up at you.
“How was the grocery store?” you asked. 
“Boring, and they didn’t have any broccoli raboni…” he said, struggling to remember the word for the vegetable you had told him you wanted.
“No broccoli rapini??” you said, feigning a gasp and clutching your chest. His subtle laugh slipped out at your acting. 
“Think you could help me with the door? I got more than we needed,” he said.
You nodded with a giggle, slipping back through the window and rushing through the apartment. You grabbed your keys and ran down the stairs. He watched you from the window of the apartment door, placing the bags on the floor in preparation for what he knew was coming.
You raced through the door and down the stoop. You jumped into him, wrapping yourself around him. His arms slipped under you, holding you tight as he gave you a little spin. He paced you back to the ground, pressing a quick kiss on your cheek.
“I missed you,” you said, keeping your arms around his neck.
“I was gone an hour, doll,” he said. He loved teasing you; it didn’t matter how long he was gone, he always missed you. It could’ve been an hour, 20 minutes, or a second. He was always missing you.
“So you didn’t miss me?” you asked, pretending to be offended.
“You know I missed you, babydoll,” he said, tightening his grasp on you and pulling you into a hug.
You rested there for a second, relaxing in his hold in the warm New York weather. The sounds of earlier were louder, rushing into your ears and swirling in your head. Your giggles from just seconds ago joined the music, flooding through neighbors' windows just as it did for you.
“You gonna help me with the door?” he said lightly with a small laugh.
You nodded eagerly and reached for one of the bags. You struggled to lift the overflowing reusable bag, huffing up the stoop and opening the door. 
“Geez, this shit is so fucking heavy!” you said, cursing your way up the steps. Bucky just chuckled as he passed you, taking the back from you into his spare hand.
“Yeah, I never said to take it,” he said.
Do you have doubts?
I curse your name
It brought me pain and now
Without you, I don't know how to be
Hurts so bad it brings me to my knees
I still believe
The scrapping of Bucky’s hand along the hardwoods woke you from your dreams. The usual warmth you’d find in the comfort of your bed had long been rendered cold and empty. He was slipping out of your reach, going backwards; his mind desperately trying to pull him back into the dark place you had found him in. He returned to his makeshift bed in the living room a few days ago.
You tried not to take it personally. You knew it had nothing to do with you. Yet after six days of him sitting at the other side of your bed and watching over you as you slipped gently into slumber, only to leave you alone, it began to take a toll on you.
You’d begged him to talk to you about it, you could feel him slipping between your fingers. He didn’t leave the apartment as much as usual. When he did, you noticed the leather gloves he had long stashed away seemed to reappear magically. He didn’t point out every cute dog he thought you would like on the street, something that often sprinkled your conversations with laughter since you’d met.
His beard, normally just a thick stubble, had begun to grow, alerting you to his deviation from his daily routine; something we had always been strictly religious about. He was struggling, struggling to stay above water in waves that you didn’t even know how to calm. You’d tried to throw him a lifejacket several times, but he just kept swimming away. You didn’t know what to do.
You slid from your bed and dipped from your bedroom and into the living room. He lay beside your couch, a thin spare bed sheet draped poorly over his legs, exposing him in just his sweats. He thrashed slightly, his brows knit tight and face locked in agony. His chest was exposed to the cool 3 am air, coated in a fresh layer of thin sweat. His breaths were rapid and uneven, his dog tags slipping as his chest heaved. His vibranium arm stretched across the floor, scrapping at the laminated wood below as if to try and keep him from harm; to ground him in the safety of his home that he knew somewhere deep in his mind he still was.
Before you could cross the small room to him, he jolted upright. You watched as he struggled to orient himself and regain his composure. His hands gripped his dog tags and he desperately tried to control his breathing. Wiping his hand through the tufts of his hair, dull mutters fell from his lips. You couldn’t make any of it out, but we knew it was Russian. Something that only slipped off his tongue after an especially bad episode.
Without even thinking, your feet moved forward but didn’t get far before landing on the loose and creaky floorboard near the kitchen bar. Freezing in place, hoping your spot in the dark would cloak you from his gaze, your face contorted in embarrassment. Of course, he saw you, sometimes you forgot he was a trained assassin. To you, he was just Bucky.
“Y/n?” he said, turning to see you.
You didn’t respond at first, unsure of how to proceed. Before you could speak, you tried to get closer.
“Please don’t,” he said. Your heart cracked.
“Bucky, why are you doing this to yourself? You always have more nightmares when you sleep alone,” he didn’t respond to you. He knew you were right. Four months ago you had left for a week for a family engagement; he had constantly restless nights shrouded in night terrors.
“Just… just talk to me,” you said. 
“It’s nothing, doll. I just need to get out of that bed ya know? Too soft,” he said, his voice too casual, but the quiver he tried so hard to hide didn’t escape you.
It was bullshit, you knew it. 
“I’ll sleep on the couch next to you, or I’ll sleep on the floor,” you said, trying to reason with him. “I just don’t want you alone. Let me camp out here with -”
“Stop, Y/n,” he said, his voice somewhat harsher as he stopped you “I’m sorry, sorry, just no.”
You watched as he rose from the pile of cheap fabric on the floor, stretching his back as he made his way into the kitchen. It wasn’t lost on you how he passed you without a single touch; no kiss on the cheek, squeeze of your hips, or quick grasp of your hand. He never used to do that, he couldn’t not touch you. But six days ago, those little touches disappeared. 
“Bucky,” you said, following behind him. He didn’t seem to acknowledge you behind him as he poured a glass of water from the sink. “Please, what’s going on? I know you, something happened.”
“I’m fine, doll. Just drop it,” he said as he chugged his drink. 
“Is…is it me? Did I do something? If I did just tell me, I’ll-”
“No!” He spat out, almost stunned you could think that. “No, no it’s not you. It’s never you.”
He came close to you for the first time that night. You could see his hands twitching at his sides, desperately willing himself to reach for you. But he never did.
“It’s me, I can’t…” he muttered, almost too broken and soft for you to understand.
“What, Plum? Talk to me,” you said. 
It was second nature, you didn’t even think. You reached up for him, your hand running along his vibranium arm and briefly brushing against his bare side. You barely touched him, but you could feel it, he’d never tensed like that before.
He stumbled back, softly batting your hand away. Your chest ached as you watched, a sight you never thought you’d have to see.
“Bucky, wha-” he was out of your sight before you could ask what happened. He rushed to your bedroom. You slowly followed, careful to keep your distance. Until you saw him getting dressed and grabbing his keys. Then you broke.
“Honey, what’s going on?” you asked in distress. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think. Please just tell me what’s going on.”
“I need to go, now,” he said, grabbing his gloves and boots and slipping past you. 
You rushed after him. He didn’t look at you as he tied up his boots. He knew if he did he’d see tears. He knew if he looked he’d see the way your small hands trembled and pawed at his large henley draped over your body. He knew if he looked, he’d give in. He'd stay. And he couldn’t. He had to leave, for you.
He began to move for the door, prepared to slip out into the night when he heard your soft sob. He froze, his body rigid and hand still as it hovered over the door handle.
“Please stay, Plum,” you said. He could almost gag. He was disgusted with himself. He did this to you. He was hurting you, no matter what he did. You deserved an explanation, of course, you did. But he knew if he told you, if let you in, he’d break. You talk in that way that seemed to quell all his fears, that made everything okay. And he’d stay, because he was weak; always weak with you. 
Not now, he couldn’t be weak now. Not when it came to your safety.
He turned to face you. The look on your face was a sucker punch to the gut. He swore he deserved all the pain under Hydra just for that. For the pain he was causing you.
He stepped forward, you didn’t move as quiet tears slipped down your cheeks. His right hand gently reached out and swiped them away, soaking in every second his skin brushed against yours. For one last time, he leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead. Your hands reached for him, yearning to hold him once. But he was gone from your touch as soon as he was there.
The front door was swinging closed once again before you knew it. He was gone.
You're breaking my heart in the best of ways
How many versions of myself will it take?
How many men I've seen with a similar face
I always look for you in so many ways
The first one to go is the worst to take
With all of my love comes all of the pain
You come and you go and I stay the same
But if you came back now, I'd take your name
The morning came quickly, flushing the apartment in light and leading the way into noon. You didn’t seem to notice. Your body had spent the following hours curled on your old loveseat. You always told Bucky you needed a bigger one. Maybe had he left under different circumstances, that memory would’ve brought a small laugh from you.
The hours since he left were filled with silence. For the first time in a long time, you swore the city was silent. The music of your neighborhood that you had grown so fond of seemed to go quiet at that moment. Like the city was mourning for you.
Maybe you could’ve done more, maybe you could’ve been there for him before it got so bad. Maybe if you hadn’t listened when he said to stay in your bed that first night. Maybe if you had pointed out the dogs to him. Maybe he would’ve stayed. Y
ou knew you should've been mad, but you weren’t. Just worried. Where was he? Where did he go? Was he safe? Was he hurt?
You needed to shower, you needed to move from your spot on the couch. Hours had passed, leaving you to watch the day slip away. You hauled yourself up off the sofa, taking note of the familiar patch on the left back cushion. The haphazard sewing job was the result of the fabric getting caught in Bucky’s arm plates during a more heated intimate moment. You wished you could say it made the moment hotter, but it just ended in laughter and Bucky nakedly struggling to free himself.
He was everywhere. All over the apartment. Each picture frame, each book. Spilling out of the bin with his never-ending dirty clothes. Overflowing in each paint stroke from the days you decided eggshell was too dull and aged ivory would look much brighter. Bursting through the walls, and flowing into each corner of the home you had built together. You couldn’t escape him.
He was the man of the house to you.
The only person you ever needed. Your security, your love, your happiness, your comfort. Your home, he was your home. This was just an apartment.
You stepped into the bedroom to find his sweats from the night before. You gently slid them on, the baggy fit of his spare clothing wrapping your body in whatever you had left of him. As the smell of his cologne and skin surrounded you, you wondered if he’d be back before the smell of him faded.
You found yourself drawn back to your fire escape window, watching the people below. You slid the window up, stepping out onto the iron platform and taking in the crisp fresh air. It filled your lungs and swirled inside as if trying to breathe any bit of life into you.
You watched the people passing below. The familiar faces blended into the crowds as the busy streets went on with their day. The city never failed to remind you how small you were. How as your life crumbled, as your everything was going, the city kept moving. People kept moving. The world kept spinning.
Your roaming eyes froze as they landed on one tall figure, stopped below the awning of the bodega below. The man watched you, a look of longing and despair deep in his blue eyes. You watched as his hands fidgeted with the leather gloves covering them, almost aching to take them off. Bucky was practically wailing as he watched you.
He stepped forward, never breaking his eye contact with you as he crossed the street. The deep dark circles under his eyes stung, all you wanted was to hold him as you both slept. He crossed over to your building, pausing below the fire escape. Your brows furrowed in anguish as you looked at his tired face. His clothes from the night before looked somewhat disheveled as if spending the evening hiking through trees.
Your hands gripped the railing as your body leaned forward slightly. A tight-lipped soft smile was all you could manage as you gazed upon him. His body shook slightly with tremors, his familiar anxiety taking over. You just wanted him close. 
His face spoke for him, pleading for you to invite him in. He needed to know you wanted him back, that he was allowed in. Not back into the home but your life. He needed to know he was welcome. You nodded to the door before slipping back through the window. You caught sight of him racing for the door on your way in.
How does it feel to be God?
How does it feel to be God?
I'm in the palm of your hand
I'm in the palm of your hand
You waited by the door, hands trembling as he slowly slipped inside. His demeanor was nervous and cautious. Too careful to get close to you. He couldn’t meet your eyes.
“I’m… I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry,” he said, muttering as he struggled to find the right words. You knew he never would. Bucky was always one to stumble over his words when he cared. Like all the emotions and all that passion was yearning to come out, so much it hindered his speech.
“Bucky, why?” you asked, your voice was faint and tired. He was gutted at the sound.
He took a step forward as he spoke,” I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Last night hurt, Buck.”
His face was devastating, he could hide the pain that washed over him. He knew it, but hearing you say it crushed him. You wanted nothing more than to pull him close. But you couldn’t, you knew you shouldn’t. Not only should he initiate, but he needed to explain.
“I know, I’m… I’m s-so sorry, babydoll,” he said, the strength in his voice wavering. “It killed me, I never wanted to, Ididn’t want to leave.”
“Then why did you?” You asked, stepping closer.
“I didn’t want to hurt you.” 
You took a moment, his head hung low as he spoke. It became clear at that moment. Why he avoided your touch, the bed, why he left. He was afraid.
You slowly came closer, leaving only a foot between the two of you. He shook before you as he fidgeted with his gloves again.
“Can I?” you asked.
He hesitated before meeting your gaze. His hands rose to yours. His eyes watched as you gently stripped the gloves from his hands and placed them on the counter. Your thumb brushed over the plates of vibranium.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, his voice still shaky.
“What’s going on, Buck?” you asked. You continued to stroke his hands, coaxing him to a calmer mood.
“Last week, I-I had a bad nightmare,” he said.
“In the living room?” you asked.
“No, in the bed. I didn’t wake you up. I…I couldn’t.
You didn’t look away or still your hands. You listened, refusing to allow him to think you were scared or unwilling to listen.
“I didn’t know what to do, I’d never- I couldn’t tell you. I just… I was so scared,” he said.
You stepped closer. Your hand moved to rest on his neck, slow enough for him to stop you if he needed to. He didn’t.
“What was the nightmare, honey?” you asked.
“It’s a little blurry now, I was so scared I couldn’t even take it all in. But, all I needed to know was what mattered. I was him again. You tried to help, to help me, but…. I killed you,” tears clouded his vision as he spoke, he willed himself to finish for you. You deserved to know everything.
“I was him again, so easily. And I killed you, I killed you Y/n.”
His mumbling began again, the nerves and fear taking over. You no longer hesitated to pull him close. You tucked his head snuggly into the crook of your neck. His tears soaked the collar of your shirt, his hands gripped tightly at your waist and held you firm. 
It all became clear. The pulling away, the distance, the makeshift bed. The way he flinched from you. He wasn’t afraid of you or mad at you. He was scared of himself. Scared for you.
“Why didn’t you tell me? It was a nightmare, Buck, you’d never,” you said, carding your fingers through his messy hair.
“I was scared that you’d hate me. That you’d be afraid of me. You should be,” he said.
“I’m not afraid of you, I could never be,” you said. His grip on you tightened at your words.
You stood in silence for a moment, allowing the sounds of the street to flood through the window and surround you both. You held him tight as if your grasp could shake each violent and self-destructive thought from his body. You held him for each moment you couldn’t over the past six days.
“Why did you come back?” you asked.
He pulled away to look at you.
“I don’t know, I’m scared I’ll hurt you, I can’t… I can’t hurt you,” he said. You cupped his cheeks and pulled his focus back to you.
“You won’t, Bucky. You know that, I know you do,” you said, your voice unwavering.
“I didn’t leave last night, not really. I couldn’t,” Your brows furrowed in confusion at his words. “I stayed on a bench in the park across the street. I…I couldn’t go far.”
His words rattled in your ribs and caused your heart to ache. You brushed your thumb along the grown-out stubble along his jawline. Gently, you leaned close and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
“I don’t….I don’t think I know how to be without you. I-I need you,” he said.
“You think it’s not the same for me?” you said. “Plum, you’re my everything. If I lost you for real…”
Words faded on your tongue, the thought alone clouding your mind with anxieties and dread.
“I’m here,” he said, his voice low.
“I need you here, this is our home,” you said. He rested his forehead on yours, relaxation finally washing over his body in your arms. 
The hairs on his neck pricked at your fingertips as you gently brushed against his jaw. You didn’t mind. Even if it hurt, if it tickled, if it was soothing. You wanted it all, you wanted him.
“Please stay, you won’t hurt me. You know that, Bucky. I know you do,” you said.
He nodded tenderly against you, a faint sob escaping his lips. So soft you almost missed it. His hands grabbed tightly at your back, keeping you tucked firmly against him. So close no one could hurt you.
So close the winter soldier couldn’t even crawl back into his mind if he wanted, not with you beside him. 
“Who else will protect me if not you?” you asked.
How sweet
You're the man of the house to me
--
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joelslastofus · 1 month ago
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[SUMMARY: Joel struggles to fight temptation with Sarah’s bestfriend after he’s forced to share a bed with her.]
Smut dry humping 18+
He knew it was best to sleep in his jeans, at least the heavy material would do better at hiding a boner he knew he would get.
Winter vacation with the Millers was something you had been looking forward to for the past month. Sarah and you were on break from college and had been best friends since high school. The two of you always planned vacations together and this time her dad and uncle were apart of the plans. A road-trip to Colorado to stay at a cabin and go skiing, you were so excited. The ride was about twelve hours long but you loved road-trips so you were perfectly fine with the time it would take to get there.
“Everybody packed?” Joel came out putting the last few bags on the back of his truck as Sarah came out in a panic.
“Shoot! I forgot to leave my work keys at the job”
“Doesn’t someone else have em?” Joel asked confused.
“Sidney is off and I was suppose to leave them for Matt, they’ll kill me. I’m so stupid”
“Alright relax-“ Tommy came in to the recuse as he usually did.
“I gotta drive by your job anyways and pick up a couple things, we’ll stop by your job and then continue heading to Colorado”
Sarah jumped up and down in relief.
“Oh uncle Tommy, you’re a savior”
“So I’ve been told” he shrugged with a chuckle.
“So what are we doin’?” Joel asked as you stood silently waiting for a plan.
“Sarah and I will go do what we gotta do and you and her can get a head start so we don’t miss our check in at the cabin”
“You want me to go with your dad?” You attempted to whisper to Sarah as he looked over at you.
“Yeah cause remember we booked the cabin under our names so me or you need to at least be there for check in” Sarah explained. Joel tried to hide his look of disapproval. Of course it wasn’t that he didn’t want to be around you, it was more so that he knew he shouldn’t be, especially alone.
“Alright well let’s get goin’” Tommy jumped in his truck as Sarah followed while you got in the car with Joel.
The drive was slightly awkward at first, being that Joel wasn’t much of a talker. His body felt tense as he drove, sneaking a glance at you as you looked out the window. You wore a jean skirt with a plain pink top, but all he could focus on was your legs.
“Mind if I put on the radio?”
He quickly looked away the second you spoke.
“Go ahead” he couldn’t help but notice your hand with red nails reach forward. God he hoped Tommy and Sarah wouldn’t take long doing what they had to do because Joel didn’t know long he could handle being alone with you.
“So are you excited?” You asked trying to make conversation.
“Course I am, been a while since I’ve gone skiing but I’m sure I still got it in me”
“Well maybe you can teach me” you spoke innocently, yet your words lingered in the air sending a shock of pleasure down his groin. He shifted in his seat as you sighed and changed the radio station not having any clue just how aroused you were making him simply by being in his presence.
Joel tried anything to get his mind off you, singing a song in his head, thinking about the last movie he saw, hell, anything to distract his mind from wandering off, especially with you right beside him. As the hours went by it helped that you had fallen asleep. Your hands folded on your lap as you leaned toward the door, Joel couldn’t help but take a slow look at you now that he could without being caught. He’d known you for a few years now but he didn’t know what the hell changed on you once you graduated high school. A simple look couldn’t hurt he convinced himself..
Not too long after, you woke up to Joel on the phone, whatever it was, you could tell he wasn’t happy about it.
“You’re kiddin’ me right?” Joel uttered low.
“Why the hell didn’t you say somethin’ earlier?” You crossed your arms sitting up wondering what was going on as he pulled over to the side of the road.
“The hell am I suppose to do now?” He continued, a few more words were said before he slammed his phone shut.
“What happened?” You spoke in a soft voice.
“Tommy’s truck broke down”
“What? We still have hours to go, where are they?”
“They’re three hours away”
“What?” You whispered confused.
It was ten at night and you had no idea where you were or what you were supposed to do.
“So now what?”
“We get a motel for the night, they’ll meet us in the mornin’-“
“A motel?“
Joel cleared his throat looking away, obvious discomfort on his face as he tried to hide how he felt about staying at a motel with you.
“Yeah, Sarah already called the cabin. We’ll make it there tomorrow” he continued to drive as you looked at the road confused.
Luckily Joel had found a motel up the road.
As soon as he entered the lobby he was clear in asking for two separate rooms or at least a room with two beds. Of course with his luck there was only one room available with one bed.
“Jesus christ” he ran his hand through his hair in frustration. With there not being another motel for another ten miles down Joel gave in and took the key.
Unlocking the door you could see how annoyed he felt, you figured it was because of delay in the trip. Pressing his lips together he looked up at you and motioned for you to walk in before him. The first sight of the bed sitting in the middle of the room you sighed as Joel stood behind you and shut the door.
“You can take the bed” he uttered low throwing his bag to the side.
“And where are you going to sleep?”
He pointed at a wooden chair in the corner of the room making you scoff.
“Don’t be ridiculous , Mr.Miller. You need proper rest, you’ve been driving for a few hours and-“
“I’ll do just fine on that chair” he insisted “and how many times do I have to tell you to just call me Joel”.
“Well, Joel, the bed is big enough for both of us, why make things harder for yourself?” you raised a brow as you took your bag and walked to the bathroom. Joel never thought he would ever find himself in a situation like this, his mind racing with things he found harder to ignore.
After changing into your pajamas you walked out of the room yawning making Joel turn to you. Instantly taken back by what you wore, an oversized t shirt that dropped down above your knees.
“The hell are you wearin’?”
“My pajamas?” You looked at him confused, his hands on his hips as he looked flustered.
“Ain’t there somethin’ else you could wear?”
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” You tilted your head as he bit down on his bottom lip. There was no way Joel was going to be locked in a room with you just wearing an oversized shirt. You didn’t see anything wrong with it especially with how long it was.
“I’m gonna go get somethin’ from the truck” he uttered under his breath as he turned towards the door. Yeah, that’s what he figured he would do. Sleep in the car.
“Wait-“ you took a step forward.
“What?”
“Where are you going?”
“To my truck, I’ll sleep in the car and-“
“No!” You took another step forward.
“You can’t leave me alone in this motel…I-“
“Why not?” He furrowed his brows.
“It’s creepy and…I don’t know…I’m kinda scared to stay alone up here”
“You’re scared?” You could hear the irritation in his tone, God you were making it harder for the man to keep himself away from you.
“Yes, can you please stay”
Joel sighed looking away knowing he had no choice. He knew he couldn’t just leave you alone like that.
“Thank you” you whispered and headed to the bed.
“So what side do you prefer to sleep on?”
Joel looked up at you, clearly over the whole ordeal.
“I ain’t sleepin’ on the bed”
“You’re still going on with that? Look how big this bed is!” You took it upon yourself to choose a side and lay back.
“You know something Mr.Miller-Joel” you corrected yourself as you sat up.
“Sometimes I think you just don’t like me and I don’t know what I’ve done but whatever it is, I apologize”
Joel stood still, Jesus Christ, now he had you thinking he didn’t like you, which obviously was so very far from the truth. He cleared his throat, not exactly sure how to defend himself without being obvious how badly he actually wanted you.
“That ain’t it, sweetheart” his words were spoken softly, probably the softest he’s ever spoken to you. There was an awkward silence after that before you sighed and got under the covers.
“Well, if that’s not it, then I insist you lay on a bed to sleep. I won’t bother you I promise” he watched as you turned over and proceeded to close your eyes.
Giving in, he walked towards the bed. Still debating in his mind what he should and shouldn’t do. He knew it was best to sleep in his jeans, at least the heavy material would do better at hiding a boner he knew he would get.
“You didn’t pack pajamas?” You suddenly turned catching him off guard.
“Yeah uh-“
“Don’t tell me you’re gonna sleep with jeans on, that’s so uncomfortable” you turned back the way you were as Joel took a deep breath. Without saying a word he proceeded to change his clothes in the bathroom.
Sweats and a navy blue t shirt Joel awkwardly sat on the bed. It seemed as if you had already fallen asleep, if so, it definitely would be better for him. Laying on his back he looked at the ceiling, his knee up as he carefully tried not to move much with you beside him.
Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad he thought, just a few hours, make it through the night and everything would be fine, right? He couldn’t help but look over, the blanket covering your legs until you moved shifting its place on you. Now a hint of the back of your bear thighs exposed to him, he didn’t even realize he began to breathe hard. His eyes darting back and forth between the ceiling and your legs until he found it in him to reach over and attempt to cover you. Of course, just as he did you unexpectedly turned over toward him, his hand now trapped beneath the side of your thigh as you faced him.
“Shit” he whispered, his breathing becoming harder to control, a feeling of anticipation he couldn’t hide. His hand feeling your bare skin on him, he could feel the pressure in his chest when you abruptly turned away again.
God you were moving a lot, each movement taking him by surprise but now here you were with your ass poked out just inches away from his crotch area. Looking down, his hand ached to grab your waist and press himself against you. The scent of your vanilla spray filling the air, only weakening his fight. A soft sleepy moan escaping your lips making him look up, the sound you made only making his cock begin to the throb as it hardened in his pants when your phone began to buzz.
Joel quickly turned onto his back lifting the covers over him as you responded in a lazy like voice.
“Mhm. Sure…yeah…I’ll tell him” you sighed before clicking the phone off and turning to Joel.
“Sarah said-“ you stopped in your tracks noticing how fast paced his breathing was.
“Are you ok?” His knee blocking his erection as he refused to look at you.
“Joel?” You whispered.
“I’m fine” he responded in a much more aggressive tone than he meant to.
“Are…are you sure?”
He looked to you with a clenched jaw but he didn’t say a word. His mind going hazy the second he laid eyes on you, he knew he was no longer thinking straight. Joel felt like an animal was taking over him when he abruptly turned towards you and kissed you. You squealed in shock as his hand caressed the crook of your neck, he placed himself over you just before he pulled his lips away. You panted looking up at him in disbelief, how he managed to get himself between your legs so quickly you couldn’t say.
“Joel..” you whispered.
“You scared me” your words instantly setting a realization within him, regret was clear in his eyes.
“I’m sorry-“ but just before he attempted to remove himself, you gently placed your hand on his face. He closed his eyes savoring your touch, your legs adjusting around his waist allowing you to feel his fully erect member against you.
“So this is what it’s all been about…” you whispered somewhat amused as he looked away with shame.
“This ain’t right” you felt him about to move away and tightened your legs around him.
“Wait” you whispered.
“We don’t…we don’t have to do anything but you can just…just stay here” you felt yourself become aroused, the head of his cock against your pussy lips. Through his sweats you could feel the shape of him against you, your black lace underwear soaking up from your excitement. As good as it felt between your legs, Joel took a deep breath.
“I can’t” he whispered, his lips against your forehead.
“Please..” you grabbed onto his shirt wanting to feel him even closer and that’s when he slowly thrusted his hips against you. Your lips parted against his and he thrusted again and again. Your moan made him freeze in place, he wanted more. Joel lifted his body up and looked down noticing the wet stop you left him on his grey sweats, only tempting him to continue.
“I’m sorry” you whispered slightly embarrassed.
He didn’t say a word, you could see him losing the fight and angled his face back to you.
“It’s not like we’re having sex..” you whispered.
“We’re not doing anything wrong” you continued, your thumb brushing over his lips.
He needed to feel more.
With one hand leaning beside your head, he pushed himself up and pushed down his sweats along with his underwear, revealing his aching member.
“What are you doing?”
“I won’t put it in, I just-“ he proceeded to take his cock and brush it up and down between your lips, you lay silently feeling aroused like you had never felt before. Your silk underwear slowly moving aside the more he teased you, his eyes on yours as he focused on the hold he had on you.
“Just don’t-“
“I won’t” he whispered hoarsely. The feel of his cock coming into contact with your pussy, you slowly reached between you both and pulled your underwear aside giving him complete access to feel you.
“Oh, baby…I don’t know if I can stop” he panted as your body squirmed beneath him. You both wanted more, the sound of how wet your pussy was only continued to awaken the animal inside him. His eyes focused on yours when he suddenly slipped himself inside you making you gasp. He held himself feeling you throb around him, your nails digging into his shoulders.
“Joel..” you whispered, his eyes dazed.
“I’m sorry..” he whispered.
“Don’t be…. Again…please” Joel did just as you asked, sliding himself nearly all the way out before ramming himself in you once more.
“Is that what you want? Tell me” he demanded, both of his hands grabbing your face. You nodded desperately before he began moving his hips in a rhythm against you, again and again and again. The bed squeaking loudly the faster he moved.
“Fuck” you moaned as he aggressively pulled his shirt over his head with one hand before sliding his other hand under your ass and lifting you up closer against him. Joel didn’t give a shit if what he was doing in that moment wasn’t wrong and neither did you. You felt better than he could imagine, your tight wet cunt wrapped around him, he moaned deeply. You didn’t want him to stop, you didn’t want it to end when someone suddenly knocked on the door. You and Joel froze out of breath as someone knocked again.
“Housekeeping!”
“No!” Joel blurt out roughly.
“No thank you” he breathed in relief that it was no one else before continuing what he was doing. Next thing you knew, Joel flipped you on top of him, his hands pushing up beneath your shirt grabbing your breasts as you bounced him. Joel could feel your cum dripping down his ballsack.
“Just like that, baby” he panted looking down at his cock.
“Fuck, Joel I’m gonna-“
“You’re gonna cum? Look at me, fucking look at me when you cum” he grabbed a handful of your hair and bought your face down close to his as he pushed his pelvis upwards as fast as he could. You couldn’t take the pleasure he was making you feel, your screams echoing around the room as you came repeatedly.
“Atta girl” he slowed down and flipped you back on your back, your body limp from your orgasm he got on his knees and quickly pulled out. Jerking himself off, his cum shot out of him onto your stomach as he leaned over you.
“Oh shit” he spoke breathlessly looking down at when slowly the intense high came crashing down. He had just fucked his daughter’s Bestfriend.
Joel pushed himself off the bed, slowly stumbling towards the bathroom as your body still tried to recover. He didn’t say a word slamming the bathroom door shut as you slowly pushed yourself up.
“Are you okay?” You called out to him cleaning yourself up, your legs slightly trembling. He didn’t respond.
A few minutes later Joel came rushing out fully dressed and began packing his bag.
“What are you doing?” You asked confused.
“Get dressed, we ain’t stayin’ here”
“Joel, where the hell are we gonna go?”
“Get dressed” he narrowed his eyes on you with a tone you didn’t like.
“Where are we going? Sarah is three hours away and the cabin is still hours away-“
“I ain’t stayin’ here” he walked past you picking up his sweats and throwing it in the bag.
“I don’t understand-“ he abruptly stopped before you and grabbed your face making you gasp.
“I just fucked you in a damn motel. If I don’t leave from here, I will fuck you again and again” his eyes drifted to your lips as you looked at him speechless.
“You’re my daughter’s best friend, I can’t do this” he whispered as he got lost in his temptation and kissed you passionately. He carried you up against the wall brushing his hand up your thigh pushing your shirt above your hips before he moved his lips away. Leaning his forehead on yours he slowly put you back on your feet.
“Get dressed” his tone was cold as he turned away from you.
“You know what-“ you walked towards your bag and pulled out your pants.
“As soon as Sarah and Tommy meet us we can switch, I’ll ride the rest of the way with Tommy” Joel instantly looked up from his bag. Clearly what you said didn’t exactly sit right with him. The thought of you traveling alone with Tommy knowing how his brother was something he was not going to allow. Especially after what had just happened with you.
“So you wanna ride with Tommy now?” He made his way around the bed walking towards you as you pulled up your pants without looking at him.
“Mhm” you responded with clear annoyance.
“You gonna wear your little panties for Tommy too?” Your eyes widened.
“Oh screw you, I didn’t make a move on you”
Joel stood silent, he knew you were right yet his jealousy somehow overpowering his emotions. He felt defeated.
“You’re not ridin’ with Tommy and that’s final” he turned away.
“And what makes you think I have to listen to you?” You quickly followed him until he suddenly turned back to you catching you off guard. He was silent, his jaw tense as you looked up at him slightly intimidated. You could’ve sworn he was going to say something….anything until your phone rang.
Sarah and Tommy got a ride and were now much much closer than you both originally expected them to be and that’s when it hit you, that you were now stuck on a four day trip with your Bestfriend and her dad that you had just slept with..
@moonpascal @katmoonz @picketniffler @stcrrjoon @itsamandi @starry-eyes-love @theoraekenslover @psychoenergy @joeldjarin @bambisweethearts @baronessvonglitter @guelyury @mynameistokyo @harriedandharassed @locaparapedrito @untamedheart81 @rosaliedepp @illyanam1011 @hopefulatrocity @tikikiki @thewritermj @l0veang3l @manuymesut @katiemarieeee @unknownomgg @secretcheesecakenacho @missladym1981 @xmaykeca @dendulinka6 @wintersquirrel @malfoycassimalfoy @scorpio-echo @orcasoul @mysteryhexgirl @locaparapedrito @alloftheimagines @mystickittytaco @justajoelsreader @ashleyfilm
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rissouu · 21 days ago
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I KNOW IM YOUR FAVORITE, gojo satoru ཐི♡ཋྀ
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ᖭི༏ᖫྀ in which: he may be your ex, but that doesn’t mean you can just move on.
ᖭི༏ᖫྀ wc: 2.9k words.
ᖭི༏ᖫྀ warnings: lots of angst, dark content (not really), sexual content, pussy!drunk gojo, stalker!gojo, heavy possessiveness, mentions of violence, pet names, daddy kink, heavy breeding kink, baby trapping (but y/n wants it), gojo sucks ur feet for literally 1 second, yandere gojo (ehh), cunnilingus, overstimulation, toxic!gojo (barely), ex!gojo, and etc.
ᖭི༏ᖫྀ notes: okay look this shit is very freaky, and it’s loosely based on the song hold me down by daniel caesar! and gojo is a stalker y’all, this is your only warning babes.. please leave now if you’re uncomfy! he is kinda crazy in this but in a lovingly way.. y’know? not proofread either so not too much on me!
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when you walked into your apartment you couldn’t help the exaggerated giggles you let out. it was embarrassing actually, acting like a school girl in junior high all over again. the reason for your happiness was pretty simple— you just had your first date.
your first date since you broke up with your ex, gojo.
that was about a year ago now.. a year since you and the love of your life parted ways. up until recently you’ve never had the guts to put yourself out there again, always scared that one day you’ll just end up hurt again.
but your whole view on dating changed when you met this guy at a grocery store. he offered to pay for your entire cart, and it was well over $300 worth. you found the gesture sweet, and from there you two exchanged numbers.
he was no gojo of course, but you had to move on at some point. it’s already been a year, if gojo didn’t reach out yet, then maybe that meant he’d moved on too.
well.. so you thought.
you were so caught up in the excitement from how well your date went, you barely even realized you were still in pitch black.
“fuck i got so distracted i forgot to turn the lights on.” you chuckled to yourself, flipping the light switch on and hanging your purse on the door.
you didn’t know why but you had a feeling you weren’t alone, like someone was watching you— or better yet breathing right down your neck.
the house was eerily quiet, so quiet you could hear the drop of a pen. but something felt off about your apartment, and you were never one to ignore your instincts.
just as you were about to retreat and run out the door, a familiar voice had you stopping in your tracks.
no. fucking. way.
“where were you?” the achingly familiar man smiled, trying his best to hide the dangerous aura oozing from his body. he knew exactly where you were, and always have. you didn’t know it yet— but he’d been watching you for a while now. ever since you dumped him which was more than a year ago now.
technically it was stalking.. but he didn’t like to call it that. in his mind, he was more of a guardian angel— just making sure you’re okay and still breathing.
how else would he check on you since you blocked him on everything else?
the white haired man was sitting on your couch with his head tilted— clearly waiting for an answer although he already knew where you were to begin with. it was pretty easy to keep tabs on you.
you stared at him, a small frown forming across your face. you were feeling weak in the knees. the first thing you wanted to do was jump on him and tell him how much you missed him.
but you knew you couldn’t do that, not anymore. the two of you just didn’t go together, or at least that’s how you felt a year ago. you couldn’t get back with him, you wouldn’t. no matter how much it hurt.. it was better than dealing with his unstability.
“what are you doing in my house, gojo?” you folded your arms— staring back at him with the same expression he was giving you. that’s what he loved about you, you weren’t easy.
with the blink of an eye, he was up from the couch and coming closer towards you. the man easily towered over you so to say he was intimidating was an understatement.
instead of answering your question he just stared at you with a blank expression— and you did the same exact thing. this was common with you two, just staring at each other in silence until one of you dared to speak up.
about five minutes later, gojo finally cracked. you silently praised yourself for being able to last longer than him.
with a low chuckle, he shook his head— slightly licking over his lips. “i think im the one asking the questions here, hm? so answer me.”
you scoffed at his arrogance, seems like some things just never change. “i was on a date if you must know, now get the hell out of my house.”
as soon as you got your words out he couldn’t help but to laugh. honestly, gojo didn’t even know what was so funny, maybe it was the way you said it.. you really thought you held some type of authority?
“and now you’re laughing at me? what’s so funny?”
that only made him laugh more, truth be told gojo wasn’t even trying to laugh, but you trying to be somewhat “mean” was taking him out because you were nothing like that.
you were one of the kindest people he’d ever met, so this little act you had on was amusing to him.
“shit, im sorry!” he clutched his stomach, letting one last chuckle out before continuing. “it’s just.. you really think im falling for this little act of yours?”
your face was quick to scrunch up— finding every bit of his words disrespectful. but it was gojo, so what could you really expect? his bluntness would probably be the death of him.
“excuse me? need i remind you, we are not together anymore gojo!” your voice came out a lot shakier than you’d hoped for it to. what the hell was going on with you?
“well clearly i know that, or else i’d go and kill that fucker you were out with tonight.”
throwing your hands in the air you muttered a strand of curse words, it’s impossible to get through to someone as hard-headed as him. “please just see yourself out.”
before he could respond, you walked off toward your room. you didn’t have the energy to deal with him or his childish antics, he’d already managed to ruin your entire mood. all this did was remind you why you keep your heart locked away— because of arrogant assholes like him.
“there’s no need to be rude, y’know? i just wanna talk to my favorite girl.” gojo followed you to your room— just like you knew he would. god, he’s so annoying.
it looked the exact same as the last time he was here except for the empty wall where the pictures of him used to hang. he’d be lying if he said it didn’t make his chest heavy, and heart pang in sorrow. could you really have been done with him for good this time?
“whatever, just don’t get on my bed.. i don’t know where you’ve been.”
‘stalking you’ he chuckled to himself before completely disregarding your request, and plopping down on your bed anyways.
you decided not to scold him for doing exactly what you said not to do. that’s just who gojo was, no one could boss a man like him around.
you weren’t even being serious either. in hindsight, you really did enjoy having him around. as much as you hated to admit it.. it reminded you of the old times, when it was just you and him against the whole world.
“i missed you, y’know? you just up and left without a word.. and next thing i know im blocked.” even though he tried to hide it you could hear the pain in his voice. losing you was like losing a piece of him too, he couldn’t stand it. he couldn’t stand the way you made him feel.
the only reason the man was able to keep it together was because he was watching you, ensuring you weren’t completely out of his life.
it sounded crazy. hell— it was crazy, but when it came to you he’d do anything.
“i know.. & im sorry for the way i handled that. i just felt like we needed to move on, try new things…”
“i don’t want to try new things!” he scowled, quickly sitting up from the bed to face you. “i want you.. just you. that’s all i’ve ever wanted.”
the air was thick, and the room felt like it was caving in. your body was practically on fire listening to him say the words you’d been craving to hear.
“and about that date of yours..” he cooed, running his hands up your thighs and slowly spreading them. “we won’t be worrying about him anymore, will we?”
that little date was never a threat to gojo to begin with. both you and him knew that, but he took manners into his own hands just to mark his territory.
gojo made sure to corner the poor guy as soon as your date was over, and needless to say.. a few threats were all it took. you should be happy he didn’t do worse, it ran across his mind to kill the poor guy at first.
“i..if we do this then no more bullshit okay?” your soft hands gripped his chin as you forced his beautiful blue eyes to meet yours. “none of that childish stuff this time. we’re both grown so we need to act like it, we’ve had a whole year to fix ourselves.”
every time the two of you got back together it turned into complete chaos. gojo wasn’t the best man out there, and you weren’t the best woman. both of you had your own flaws regardless, but you two needed each other.
that was well established the first 10 times you guys broke up, and unsurprisingly you always ended up back in each other’s skin.
gojo’s gaze on you was heavy, almost as if he was trying to study your every breath and blink. all of the dumb, childish expressions on his face from before were far gone.
“yes princess, whatever you want.” he softly spoke as he sunk his head into the skin of your stomach, littering you with soft kisses. “i’ll do whatever you want..”
gojo spoke so gently— his voice softer than ever as he pushed you on your back, wrapping your legs around his shoulders.
you stared at him intently, waiting to see what he would do next. one thing about gojo was he always had something up his sleeve, and part of you knew where this was headed.
when his rough hands gripped the waistband of your flimsy skirt, you didn’t complain. actually you found yourself wanting more, longing for more.
“y’gonna let me get a taste baby? missed her s’much,” soft lips trailed up your thigh— leaving small bite imprints on the flesh. this was his way of staking his claim on you, marking you as his and only his.
you couldn’t stop the shaky sigh that fell from your lips, or the silent nod you gave to your ex-boyfriend for him to continue.
the grin that spread across his face was taunting almost, and intimidating. when that skirt of yours was out of the way, gojo moved on to the black-lace panties. his personal favorite.
“so what, you wearin’ these for other people now?” the fucking nerve of you, he couldn’t believe this. to stoop that low.. well that just won’t do. it seems like he had a few things to correct now that he was back. “fuckin’ answer me. be a good girl for me, yeah?”
your eyes locked with his and all you saw was silent fury, you could tell he was pissed. “not wearing them for anybody toru. just didn’t have any clean ones,”
a lazy grin covered his face at the remembrance of his old nickname, the way it fell from your lips so softly always managed to send heat straight to his dick.
he finally got his girl back.
faint kisses to your cunt had your legs shaking in anticipation— and the soft gasp that left your lips did nothing but egg gojo on as his tongue met your aching clit.
“pussy’s still fuckin’ pretty as ever,” with a low voice his eyes were closed shut, in hopes to savor every last bit of you. when his hands came up to your thighs he couldn’t resist the urge to spread them even further.
the man wanted to explore every inch of you since it’s been so long. so so long since he’s spent some personal time with that pretty pussy of yours.
“w..wait- fuck toru!” you whined when his lips found their way to your pulsing clit, folding his tongue up and down the gooey slit.
his assault to your pussy didn’t stop there. next his thumb was sliding down your sticky folds, not stopping until it was past your tight walls.
your mouth fell open at the intrusion. his thumb wasn’t long but it was thick, causing a bigger stretch than you’d expected.
“so good. taste’s s’good princess,” gojo mindlessly babbled, every word sending vibrations straight to your pussy.
gojo felt like he was out of his body. out of his mind, and he hadn’t even been inside you yet. just what the fuck were you doing to him?
finally fed up with the throbbing ache in his pants he latched onto your clit for a third time, giving it one last kiss before pulling away.
the man couldn’t wait any longer— he needed to be inside you, and he needed it now. before you knew it he was sliding off his sweats and everything underneath it, leaving him completely exposed.
your pussy throbbed just from the sight of him.. you didn’t know how much longer you could wait either.
“don’t worry mama, im ready for ya’.” a low chuckle left his throat when he saw you were just as desperate as him. “you ready for me?”
his blue eyes met your low ones when he slapped his tip against your folds. next he was sliding inside of your pulsing hole with ease, forcing your mouth open.
“o..oh my gosh!“ you winced at the familiar stretch, your walls involuntarily clenched around his dick— trying to push him out.
“n..no- fuck. none of that, y’hear me?” gojo whimpered at the feel of being squeezed, he couldn’t even move you were squeezing him so tight.
the man hovered over you, lips grazing your ear as he coaxed you. “let me in baby, you can do it. i know you can,” he whispered, wrapping his hand around your neck and resting it there.
his words of encouragement had you opening up quicker than he expected, and with every second he was inching deeper into your pussy. gojo felt like he was in a dream— or better yet, on cloud 9. after all that time you still feel the exact same, heavenly.
his strokes were gentle at first, but they sped up when he realized how long he was away from you. a whole year.. never again.
“n..never ever gonna let you keep this shit from me again.” gojo groaned with an edge in his voice that you couldn’t recognize.
your shaky hands wasted no time sliding under his shirt, feeling on the happy trail that covered his v-line. “not gonna take it away toru, ‘s all yours!”
gojo grinned at your words as he pressed onto your lower stomach. with his free hand he gripped onto the back of your thighs and brung your freshly done feet up to his mouth.
his lips wrapped around your toe— eyes locking with yours as he sucked on it. his strokes only got deeper, and you whimpered at all the different sensations at once.
“‘m not gonna pull out,” he admitted as he switched from sucking to leaving small kisses on your foot. “gonna cum so deep in this pretty pussy. never gonna leave me again.”
you were so out of it. drool everywhere, hair messy, tear stained cheeks.. anything gojo said went in one ear and out the other. the man could do whatever, you didn’t care.
“mm yes, don’t pull out. want it s’bad, fill me up please!” small whines filled your throat when you felt a familiar pressure in your abdomen, your pussy wrapping around him even tighter than before. how was this even possible?
gojo’s pace got faster, strokes sloppier.. he was slowly but surely losing all the sense of control he once had before. “f..fuckk ‘m gonna cum toru, so close!”
you gasped when his thumb flicked your clit, looking up at the blue eyes that never left your frame. your legs shook in overstimulation and you didn’t know how much longer you could hold it in.
“let it out mama, you’re okay. gimme all of it- shit.” he hissed as his dick twitched at how tight you were squeezing. “fuck fuck fuck, you’re gonna be such a pretty mama. s..such a pretty wifey, all f’me.”
you threw your head back as chills covered your entire body. the both of you were completely out of touch with reality, not caring about anything but the feeling of one another.
“‘m cumming toru! mhmm ‘m cumming,” you exclaimed, bringing your hand to his stomach. it wasn’t long before the built-up pit in your stomach finally snapped, coating his dick in a ring of your juices.
gojo was close behind you, a whimpering mess as his stomach tightened. before he knew it he was filling you up— spilling his load inside of you, not a drop to be wasted.
“f..fuck yeah. take it mama, it’s all yours. all for you.. gotta give you everything.” he chanted praises as he gave you one last stroke, pushing his cum even deeper into you where it belonged.
your voice was shaky when he called you, so shaky that at first you thought you wouldn’t be able to respond. but even so, you did.
“you’re never leaving me again, understand?” the edge in his voice was back, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your stomach do flips.
“yes toru, i understand.”
if there’s anything you learned from this at all.. it’s that you could never leave a man like gojo satoru.
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©rissouu 2025 (this one’s for dulce y’all so thank her, it took me forever *sigh*)
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sloaneispunk · 1 month ago
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“the carousel”
soft!frontman (hwang in-ho) x you
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when frontman planned the ‘mingle’ game, he knew it was set out to kill and eliminate. what he didn’t expect was how much he was willing to compromise when he had someone to lose.
⋆♱✮♱⋆ ──── 〇 △ □ ──── ⋆♱✮♱⋆
part one
as the games continued, the tension between the players continued to increase. between the ‘x’s and ‘o’s laid a thick, heavy atmosphere. nobody knew who to trust, there had been far too many betrayals for a lifetime.
however, you yourself had one person that you trusted…
young-il.
young-il had approached you after the first game, saying how since you and him were alone you should stick together.
you had your share of skepticism but something drew you in each time you tried to pull away. young-il was just so charming, so charismatic and gentle with you. you had seen how angry he could be when standing up for the rights of each person individually but with you he was just so soft spoken.
when you went to sleep, he would stay by you. either on the edge of your bed keeping watch or laying down beside your headrest staying ever so close to you.
of course you protected him too, maybe not as brave as he was when doing so but you always made sure he was safe and healthy. you would give him extra food and even though he protested, you’d make him eat it anyway.
he loved that you were equally protective and loving towards him as he was to you. he felt a sense of pride whenever you would stand up for him. it made the young boy in him happy and he knew it.
⋆♱✮♱⋆ ──── 〇 △ □ ──── ⋆♱✮♱⋆
part two
“players please walk in an orderly fashion towards your third game.”
you were walking beside young-il as he had his hand on your back making sure that you were always with him even though you were walking with the rest of the group.
“what game do you think we’ll play now?” you asked, looking up at him.
young-il let out a small chuckle, he loved how it didn’t even sound like you knew how dire the situation you were in was.
“i’m not sure, y/n. what are you hoping it’ll be?” he replied.
“maybe hopscotch, or jump rope.”
“maybe.”
however, when you stepped into the game room, there was a giant carousel in the middle. around it were many doors painted with different colors.
“oh, what is this? a giant carousel, how strange!” jung-bae made a remark, stepping onto the giant platform.
young-il stretched out his hand for you, briefly helping you up beside him once again, you thanked him with a smile.
“the game is ‘mingle’. a song will play as the carousel spins, once the song ends and the movement comes to a stop, a number will be called out. you must then make a team of the number and head into any room of your choice.”
“that sounds easy.” dae-ho said.
“no. it can’t be that simple, it never is.”
⋆♱✮♱⋆ ──── 〇 △ □ ──── ⋆♱✮♱⋆
part three
round one
‘round, round, round, round! let’s dance in circles!clap your hands and sing! la-la-la-la let’s have fun dancing!’
the child-like music blasted loudly as the lights started to dim. with a jerk of the platform, it started to spin.
young-il instinctively grabbed your arm, keeping you with him at all cost.
“no matter what happens, do not let go of me. you understand?” he instructed sternly as he turned to face you.
but before you could reply, the platform came to a sudden halt, causing you to stumble and grab onto young-il’s arm.
‘ten.’
then, the music abruptly stopped, a loud jarring alarm now taking its place on the speakers as the lights flashed and flickered.
“we have 6! we need 4 more!” gi-hun shouted as panic started to set in within everyone.
“we’re 4!” player 120 yelled, running towards you with 3 players behind.
“let’s go! yellow door!” young-il shouted, leading the way, his hand still grabbing onto yours.
he flung the door open and carefully led you in, making sure you were okay before going back out, holding the door for the others to enter.
as the timer hit one, he drew the door shut behind him. the lock on it clicking as he looked out.
you joined him as you stood and watched the scene unfold in front of you. it was chaos everywhere. those who were unable to find a team in time were scrambling and screaming, some even on their knees begging for the guards who were now pointing guns at them to spare them.
round two
the door clicked, unlocking itself moments later. you stepped out, met with the sight of blood and dead bodies of players around. young-il came up behind you, holding you close again. “look straight, don’t look down okay?” he whispered, placing a kiss on the top of your head.
‘ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, ring-a’
you took in a deep breath as the platform started moving once more. this time everyone looked much more scared, you could see some shaking in fear while others were clearly enjoying themselves, linking arms and dancing in circles like a bunch of lunatics.
“four.”
your eyes shot to young-il. somehow even under the blinding flashes of lights, he looked just as handsome.
“you four go! me and y/n will find two more!” he shouted over the chaos.
“are you sure?!” gi-hun asked, skeptical to leave his friends.
“yes, go!”
with that, the six of you split ways. the four easily finding a room. gi-hun however was nervous. what if you couldn’t find a room in time? what if you couldn’t find more people?
“young-il, split up, i get one you get one!” you shouted, pulling back.
“no! y/n, don’t-”
but you didn’t listen. you knew that if you went together you wouldn’t be able to find two people in time.
“pink door! room twenty! i’ll meet you there!” you said and took off, running the opposite direction, leaving him no choice but to do as you asked.
you frantically looked everywhere for another person, it was hard to find someone that hasn’t already been dragged away by a team. then, you spotted a boy being kicked back by the two dancing lunatics.
you ran as fast as you could to him, grabbing him by the arm and leading him to room twenty. there young-il was already inside, holding open the door for you to enter.
as soon as your feet stepped inside, he shut the door tight behind you.
“my god, what were you thinking?! are you insane?!” he gently scolded, his head in his hands as he ruffled his hair.
“look, i’m okay!” you smiled, “and what did i tell you? it’s way faster that way.”
young-il let out a sigh of disbelief, rolling his eyes and he took his hands out of yours. just in time to save the two poor people in the same room, the door opened.
the boy you had saved mumbled a small ‘thank you’ before he took off, leaving you and young-il in the room alone.
“i’m sorry, i just wanted to help you.” you apologised.
“y/n, i was scared you weren’t going to come back.” he said, almost like a whisper. he walked over to you, pulling you into a hug.
“i’m sorry i-”
“don’t apologise, it’s okay. you’re a strong girl right? i knew you could do it.” he lightly chuckled, pulling away.
you offered him a smile in return, grabbing his hand again before leaving the room.
“there you guys are! we were worried sick!” a familiar voice said.
there, gi-hun and the team ran towards you, jung-bae engulfing young-il in a tight hug while dae-ho pulled you in for one too.
“hey, i’m a very likeable person. i do well in these games.” young-il joked, purposefully glancing at you, giving you a wink.
⋆♱✮♱⋆ ──── 〇 △ □ ──── ⋆♱✮♱⋆
part four
round three
‘ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, ring-a, lets’s hold hands together, let’s have fun together’
‘three’
“how do you wanna do it?” you asked gi-hun who had a panic stricken look on his face.
“jung-bae, dae-ho and me! you, young-il and jun-hee!”
without question, young-il grabbed your arm again, dashing towards the nearest door before anyone could enter. he was so quick you almost couldn’t grab jun-hee’s hand in time.
after making sure everyone settled in safely unharmed, you immediately rushed to jun-hee’s side.
“was that too rough? did i hurt you? how’s your stomach?” you asked as she stood in the corner trying to catch her breath.
young-il watched without saying a word. he was immediately in a trance just by watching you, seeing you so gentle and kind towards people in need. it made him regret recruiting a kind soul like you into the game. he knew right then that it was either you or the game, especially once you found out exactly who he was.
round four
“how many more rounds do we have to play? i’m getting exhausted.” you said practically collapsing onto young-il as the platform stopped suddenly, not giving time for you to recover before the game started again.
“six.”
you were so exhausted you couldn’t even process everything that was happening, all you knew was that young-il was leading you by your hand straight into another room where you were met with familiar faces, the old lady’s team… but someone was missing.
1,2,3,4,5…
…player 095
“where is she?!” you asked, suddenly aware of the situation.
you could hear young-il’s voice telling you to stay in place and that he would go out and look for her but you ignored him, pulling open the door.
there you saw her on the floor, crying for help. but before you could step out, someone pushed you back into the room, knocking you back and locking the door behind him.
you felt a pair of hands immediately grab onto your stomach, catching you before you fell. young-il pulled you back, your body flush against him as the boy turned around, just as the timer hit zero and the door locked itself.
“nonono what did you do?!” player 120 shouted at him, shoving him to look out the hole. “young-mi! young-mi! no!”
“i just saved your lives! she wouldn’t have made it in time anyway!” he scoffed back.
“unnie!” young-mi cried, the pain in her voice piercing everyone’s heart.
“young-il.” you cried, turning to face away from the heartbreaking sight. you could still hear her cries as you buried your head into young-il’s chest. his arms wrapping around your body as he tried to comfort you.
then, there was a silent gunshot and the cries stopped.
for the first time, young-il felt a sense of guilt from the games. a stinging wave of sadness spread throughout his whole being.
maybe it was holding your shaking and exhausted body, or hearing your cries that made him soft again. he wasn’t sure whether to hate you or love you for it.
when the doors opened, everyone was still in a state of shock and grief.
“c’mon, it’s okay, it’s almost over.” he said softly as he guided you back onto the carousel.
⋆♱✮♱⋆ ──── 〇 △ □ ──── ⋆♱✮♱⋆
part five
final round
“it’s two.” young-il said coldly, looking around.
“how do you know?” you asked.
“at least a hundred people left, fifty rooms. they’re going to make us fight for it, that’s what they do…”
‘two’
without wasting a second, you and young-il ran towards the closest room.
this round was the more vicious and violent, everyone threw away their morales. there were some kicking others out of rooms, dragging teams away.
you must not have been paying attention because just as you were about to enter the room, right behind young-il, a pair of hands grabbed you from your waist, lifting you in the air and throwing you aside causing you to scream young-il’s name.
young-il whipped his head around, seeing you land on the floor, hitting your head in the process. rage fueled him as he pounced onto the man, giving you time to go into the room.
however, you were met with the sight of another man.
“get out.” you told him.
“no! we were here first!” he shouted back.
just then, young-il came running in, shutting the door behind him. when he saw another person in the room, he was fast to react, launching himself at the man.
“hey fuckin’ let me in!” a voice yelled from the outside.
you jumped into action, pressing your back towards the door, holding it shut while others tried to come in.
you looked up at the timer in the room.
10 seconds
young-il knew exactly what to do, he just wondered if it was the right thing to do in front of you. but as seconds passed, he knew for certain what he had to do if he wanted you to survive.
9
he grabbed the man by the neck, keeping him in a headlock
8
you could see the fear in the man’s eyes
7
the man started choking
6
his legs started to thrash around
5
he was fighting for every breath he could take
4
young-il’s grip tightened
3
‘crack’
2
silence filled the room
1
your eyes were wide open in shock as you waited for young-il to break the silence.
“y/n, i’m so sorry.” he finally said, putting down the now lifeless body onto the ground as he made his way to you.
you were beyond taken aback with the sight that was in front of you, hand over your mouth as you started to breathe quickly.
“hey, no, no. please don’t be scared. it’s me, y/n, it’s okay.” he said with that same gentle voice of his when he was talking to you, just not in a situation like this.
he took your hand away from your face, bringing it down and held your face in his hands.
“look at me please.” he said, his voice now so, so soft, almost as if he was pleading.
you blinked away tears as you slowly looked at young-il, staring deep into his brown eyes.
“thatta girl, it’s okay… i did what i had to do to keep you safe…” he said. “that’s what i promised you right?”
you nodded.
he leaned forward, placing a kiss on your forehead before stepping back. he wiped away your tears with his hands before taking your hand in his again, leading you out as the game came to an end.
what the fuck just happened?
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kryllia · 1 month ago
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Through His Eyes
Yandere boyfriend x reader
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art from pinterest
The first time you met Aiden, he felt like a breath of fresh air. His smile was soft, his words laced with sincerity, and his eyes—oh, those eyes—were warm pools of honey that seemed to melt away all your worries. He was perfect, almost too perfect, but you never dared question it. After all, wasn’t this what everyone wanted? Someone who understood you without words, someone who loved you so wholly and selflessly?
Aiden was the embodiment of devotion. He knew your coffee order by heart, memorized your class schedule within days, and always texted you right when it was needed most. If you were stressed after a long day, he’d already be waiting at the door with your favorite snacks and that soft, knowing smile. It was as if he could read your mind.
And in a way, he could.
But you didn’t know that yet.
It wasn’t until much later—much too late—that you realized Aiden wasn’t just attentive. He was obsessive.
Aiden sat in his dimly lit room, multiple monitors casting a faint bluish glow on his face. Each screen displayed a different angle of your apartment: the kitchen, the living room, the bedroom. His eyes lingered on the feed from the bedroom camera as you shuffled under the covers, sighing softly before drifting off to sleep.
He sighed too, mirroring you from miles away.
“You look so peaceful like this,” he whispered to no one in particular, his finger tracing the outline of your face on the screen. “So beautiful... mine.”
His phone buzzed, pulling him out of his trance. It was the tracking app. You had left your phone on the nightstand, unmoving for the past hour. He smiled, knowing you were safe, knowing you were his.
You had always wondered how Aiden seemed to know everything so well. He’d always have your favorite song playing in his car, always know when illness was about to hit before symptoms even showed. It was... uncanny. But it felt good. It felt like love.
“Do you ever get tired of being so perfect?” you teased one evening, sitting across from him in a cozy cafe.
Aiden chuckled, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Perfect? Oh no, I just... pay attention to the things that matter.”
You.
It was always you.
The first red flag appeared on a rainy Thursday night. You had been at work late, phone dead, and bus delayed. When you finally got home, drenched and exhausted, Aiden was already there—waiting by the door, umbrella in hand.
“How did you...?” you stammered.
His smile didn’t waver. “You mentioned your shift would be longer today, remember? I wanted to make sure you got home safely.”
You shrugged it off. Aiden was sweet. Too sweet to question.
But the nagging feeling in your chest wouldn’t go away.
It wasn’t until weeks later, when you stumbled upon a small black device tucked discreetly behind a picture frame in your bedroom, that reality came crashing down.
A camera.
Your hands trembled as you held it up, your breaths shallow. Your mind raced as puzzle pieces began snapping into place: the perfectly timed texts, the way he always seemed to know where you were, the way he... watched.
Your phone buzzed.
Aiden: Are you okay, sweetheart? You seem upset.
The camera was still in your hand.
He knew.
When Aiden arrived at your apartment that night, his smile was softer than usual, his eyes alight with something... dangerous.
“You found it, didn’t you?” he said quietly, stepping into your space.
Your voice trembled. “Why, Aiden? Why would you—?”
“Because I love you,” he interrupted, his voice trembling with an intensity that sent chills down your spine. “Don’t you see? I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you.”
His hand reached for yours, but you pulled away.
“You’re scaring me,” you whispered.
His expression crumbled, hurt flashing across his face. “No, no, please don’t say that. I’d never hurt you. I just... I just needed to be sure. I needed to keep you safe. They don’t love you like I do. They don’t understand you like I do.”
Tears welled in his eyes, but behind them, you saw something unhinged. Something feral.
“You don’t have to run from me,” he pleaded, stepping closer. “You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.”
Your phone was in your hand now, your finger hovering over the emergency call button.
He saw it.
Aiden lunged.
-
Hours later, you woke up to the feeling of soft fabric against your cheek. You were lying on a plush bed in a room you didn’t recognize. The windows were covered, the air filled with the faint scent of lavender and... him.
Aiden.
You tried to sit up, but your wrists were bound with silken ropes—tight enough to hold you, soft enough not to bruise.
“Shh, it’s okay,” Aiden’s voice cooed from the corner of the room. He stepped into view, his face illuminated by the faint glow of a bedside lamp.
“You’re safe now. No one can take you away from me here.”
He sat on the edge of the bed, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face.
“I love you so much. You understand that, don’t you?”
His eyes glistened with something almost holy, like he truly believed every word he said.
In that moment, you realized one thing with chilling certainty:
You belonged to him now.
And he was never going to let go.
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misshuntereevee · 2 months ago
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i'll do anything you say; if you say it with your hands; sylus likes when you maintain eye contact in the bedroom. this imagine is 100% inspired by this post. it made me have thoughts. so enjoy. .˳·˖✶𓆩𓁺𓆪✶˖·˳.༄
content: smut ( mdni ) , title based off this song.
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“Look at me.”
He grunts the words out, his hand reaching down to grab your chin. You’ve just woken up and the both of you are taking advantage of Sylus’ morning excitement.
However, when your eyes rolled back in pleasure, and then shut he gave a tsk, followed by that statement.: Look at me.
It takes you a second to register what he says. He pauses while waiting, before repeating it, emphasizing each world with a savage thrust: "Look at me. "
Your eyes fly open, and you whine at him. "Sy!"
“That’s a good girl. Your eyes are so pretty, so soft…” he rasps. His hands are now gripping you everywhere now as you find yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.
Sylus is like a beast, still rocking into you without mercy. His stamina and self control were amazing, and he often could fuck you through multiple orgasms. This morning seemed to be no different. He could feel you tightening around him.
"Good girl. Go ahead and come for me, alright? You've been so good, you deserve it." His mouth brushes over the shell of your ear as he rasps it to you. And just like that, you're clenching around him, a low pitched mewl coming out of your throat.
It makes him chuckle, but it's mixed with a groan. He always tells you that it's worth the self control to feel you tighten around him over and over again. As soon as he's fucked you through that orgasm, he flips you both over so that he's on his back.
"Ride me. And keep your eyes on me, beautiful. I want to see every reaction on that pretty little face. No matter how small." He smirks before playfully slapping your ass.
"I want you to take what you want," he says, "But if you close your eyes, I'll take over."
It's not a real threat, knowing that it'll still send you to the moon either way. But you nod at his demand, starting to rock your hips back and forth. He's already so big in general, but when you ride him, it makes him feel even bigger.
It's not long before you're working yourself to a frenzy on his cock. You notice a lot since he won't let you shut your eyes. It's almost infuriating how he seems almost unaffected. The key word, almost. There's little furrows of his brow, moments where his jaw twitches - struggling to remain a smirk... but he still manages to look coolly at you as you ride him.
"I'm so -- Sy," you whine, your hips whipping back and forth even faster now.
"Yes," he says, leaning up to suck at your nipples, even nipping gently at the underside of your breast. "Let me have it. Let me feel it... let go, take what you want. Take me."
His dirty commands send you over the edge. It's clear after your last orgasm that his restraint is holding on by a thread. Once you come down, he leans up to kiss you harshly.
"You like making me so lovesick, don't you?" He accuses in between words. It's teasing, along with nips and sucks along your neck. It's clear he's getting close, and the need to fuck you harder, rougher is setting in.
Once again, he flips you over, but this time, he withdraws from you. It's for the first time since you both woke up, and he tugs you so you're practically bending over the bed. "Want me to show you just how love sick you've made me, kitten?"
You nod, blissed out from your previous orgasms, and he growls, entering you to the hilt in one smooth motion. At this angle, he's pushing you up and down against the quilt. It''s rubbing against your clit as his cock pounds into you.
"Sylus!" You mewl, your hands looking for anything to hold onto. Instead of letting them find purchase, he takes them, pinning them behind your back as he continues to pound into you.
His thrusts are getting messy, and grunts are falling from his mouth in a symphony. You love the sounds he makes right before he finishes. It's enough to bring you to the brink of yet another orgasm.
"You're...you're so fucking impossible not to adore," he grunts, his thrusts speeding up even faster. Then, you feel him swell inside of you. You both come together, and he lets out a loud grunt as he pulls out, coming all over your stomach.
He collapses onto you for just a moment, and you both enjoy the intimacy before he's walking to the bathroom. He emerges with a washrag, cleaning up your backside. Once you're all taken care of, you both decide to spend the rest of the morning cuddling in bed. After all, after all that... who would want to leave the bed?
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anqelrafe · 2 months ago
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LATE NIGHT DRIVES
PAIRING: BSF!RAFE X SWEETHEART!FEM!READER
summary: Rafe cherished these drives with you. Where you both would blare your wildly different music, talk about anything that came to mind, and stop at random convenience stores for snacks. It was the only time where he felt genuinely relaxed and content.
a/n: okayy new setup? 🫣 I dunno, I'm trying it out but I likee. very professional, very cutesy. Anyway, this is my first well thought out writing so please do leave constructive criticism if you think I could do something different next time...
word count: 0.6k
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The route to your house was second nature by now. He's been there so much that he almost knows it better than his own home. which he doesn't mind at all, cause your house was basically his second home.
As you lie in your bed, your phone buzzes with an "I'm outside" text from Rafe. So per routine, you get up, throwing on the first hoodie in reach and heading out of the door.
He blows out out a breath, letting out a low "Its about fucking time" as you get in his truck.
"yeah yeah, it wasn't that long. you're just impatient"
he pulls out of your driveway, scoffing slightly "I must have plenty of patience, I deal with you, don't I? and put your seat belt on."
Once your seat belt is fastened, he begins driving on the road, having no destination in mind like usual. For a while, it's just silence between you two. Which isn't uncommon for both of you, it's familiar and more comforting than he'd like to admit.
"Lets stop at a gas station for snacks" you request, looking out the window
He nods, a murmured "sure" leaving his lips as he drives in the direction of the nearest gas station.
Entering the gas station, you immediately make your way toward the section with candy, picking out packages of a variety of candies while he heads towards the chips.
Once you both have gathered a good amount of snacks for each of you, which you both are gonna end up sharing anyway, you set them down on the counter as the cashier to rings up all of the items that he ends up paying for like usual since he'll throw a fit if he doesn't.
When you both make it into the car, he drives to the usual spot you both spend nights at. An empty parking lot. "Oh my gosh, turn it up!" you motion to the radio, smiling widely.
He groans as he turns up the radio "What the hell is this? Taylor Swift?"
"Sabrina Carpenter" you correct "And it's good, just listen."
"Yeah, I'd rather not" he replies as he takes a few gummy bears from the bag in your lap. He always claims to hate your music taste but you always find him humming a beat to one of the songs you pick out during a drive.
He leans back into his seat, chewing slowly as he listens to the lyrics. "You listen to some dirty music" he chuckles
"Hey, she's not that bad. You should see her on tour though, you'll have a stroke."
he raises his eyebrow, an amused expression on his face "really, huh? what, are you gonna go?"
you hum, shaking your head "No. I want to, though. But her tickets are kinda pricey. Maybe if I have extra money to spend soon."
"I'll take you."
The Skittles you were eating nearly get stuck in your throat as you look at him in bewilderment "What?! No! Rafe, that's too much money."
he shrugs "It's fine. I wanna do it. Just let me? Please?" of course he wouldn't bat an eye at spending that much money, he was loaded.
you hesitate for a moment, but seeing the insistence in his eyes, you eventually nod slightly "Fine. You can take me. But I'm paying you back eventually, alright?"
"Mm okay, sure. Deal." he agrees, even though he knows when it comes time for you to pay him back, he'll either give the money right back to you or refuse it.
"Thank you, Rafe. I appreciate it." you smile, genuinely touched by his willingness to spend that much money on you. It was rare that he went out of his way to please someone.
"Mhm, of course" he smiles back before throwing a gummy bear your way "consider it a late birthday gift."
"my birthday was like nine months ago, but okay."
"Mm yeah, just go with it" he chuckles, reaching over and talking your hand.
That was definitely new...
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elllisaaa · 7 months ago
Note
Svt reaction to their s/o getting cute aggression on them
seventeen when their s/o gives them cuteness aggression
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-> pairing : svt x gn!reader
-> word count : 1.6k
-> genre : fluff
-> reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated !
-> sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language.
-> author's note : this idea is soooo cute ! i had a lot of fun writing this ! hope you'll like it !
-> masterlist | svt masterlist
svt version | ateez version
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CHOI SEUNGCHEOL
cause of the aggression : cheol pouting because you won't give him one of the cookies you made.
he starts to whine when you pepper his whole face with kisses.
but you're not dumb - you see the big smile stretching out his lips and his eyes filled with adoration as you peck his lips so many times he can't count.
he's just so comfy with his hair ruffled from his nap and his glasses sitting on his nose so prettily.
he doesn't stop you until you finally decide that you attacked him enough.
"stop being so cute choi seungcheol."
"if i get kisses, i won't."
YOON JEONGHAN
cause of the aggression : jeonghan looking fondly at you while you're rambling about your favorite song.
the faint smile on his lips and the dreamy look in his eyes is enough for you to grab his face in between your hands and aggressively kiss his whole face.
jeonghan is whining the whole time, threatening you to take his revenge if you don't let him go.
but truly, he wants you to stop only because his heart is about to burst from how loved you make him feel.
when you finally feel satisfied with the amount of kisses you left on his face, it's your chance to witness a flustered jeonghan - his cheeks slightly red but enough for you to notice it.
"you're blushing, baby."
"am not, you just left your lipstick all over me."
HONG JOSHUA
cause of the aggression : his smile. yes, that is enough of a reason for me.
you playfully bite his cheeks - not hard enough to leave a mark behind - loving the way they become even more adorable when he smiles.
joshua only giggles at your antics and lets you do whatever you want.
but let's not forget that he's a menace and you understand that he's planning something the second you see his devilish grin.
in return, he also bites your cheeks.
"why did you do that, josh ?"
"you're adorable too, you also deserve cuteness aggression."
MOON JUNHUI
cause of the aggression : him playing with your cat and calling him his son.
they look alike too much and both of them together are too cute to not react.
you kiss your cat first, inhaling his scent, then you do the same to your boyfriend.
jun doesn't really understand what's happening to him, but quickly, the feeling of your lips against the skin of his temples and cheeks relaxes him and he closes his eyes.
he only opens them when you finally stop and your proud smile makes him chuckle while he pulls you closer to him to hug you.
"what did we do to deserve all of that ?"
"you're both cute. and i love you. isn't that enough ?"
KWON SOONYOUNG
cause of the aggression : the way his whole face brightens up when you bring him a new tiger plushie.
you squish his cheeks in between your hands, cooing at him while he looks at you, completely lost.
you kiss his forehead too many times to count, and then you do the same to his lips.
but soon enough, soonyoung is smiling too much for you to go on with your assault.
he doesn't even try to play it off and is fully comfortable with showing you the blush you caused to spread from his cheeks to his ears.
"i should be the one doing that baby ! you're so cute for thinking about me and buying me this !"
"i always think about you soonie."
JEON WONWOO
cause of the aggression : your sleepy boyfriend waking up from his nap and looking at you from his spot on your chest.
you take a deep breath before looking back at him, hit by the same heavenly view of your half-asleep boyfriend.
your "aggression" is quite soft because you don't want to scare him but you still pepper his whole face with little kisses that make his heart melt.
a quiet "baby" falls from his lips when you kiss the tip of his nose three times in a row.
when you're finally done and satisfied, your eyes fall into wonwoo's awestruck gaze and you feel the need to attack him again.
"i just woke up, can't you wait two seconds ?"
"no. you're too adorable, i have to show my appreciation right now."
LEE JIHOON
cause of the aggression : his focused face while he's producing is undeniably adorable.
you look up at him from where you're sitting on his lap and decide that his neck will be your target.
you nuzzle your nose against the side of his neck aggressively before littering his skin with just as aggressive kisses.
jihoon interrogates you about what you're doing but you only kiss him harder and he simply decides to let you do your thing.
once you're satisfied, you look up at him again, and he pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear.
jihoon is shaking his head but you see the light smile stretching out his lips.
"you're crazy, you know that ?"
"i know. that's why you love me, though."
LEE SEOKMIN
cause of the aggression : seokmin coming home with a bouquet of your favorite flowers just because they made him think of you.
you put the bouquet down on the kitchen counter to not damage it before throwing yourself in his arms.
seokmin giggles and the way he smiles makes your heart flutter even more.
his hands go down to hold your waist as you repeatedly kiss his nose, then you do the same to his lips.
seokmin lets you do everything you want to him, but before you can withdraw after your last kiss, he prolongs the kiss.
"i really am the luckiest man on earth."
"what should i say, then ?"
KIM MINGYU
cause of the aggression : his puppy look when begging you to go out that same night.
you can never resist when he's looking at you like that, so you roll your eyes before starting your attack on him.
you start by covering his forehead with kisses, then his temples, his cheeks, his lips and finally his jaw.
mingyu starts whining as soon as your lips come in contact with his skin, his wide eyes looking at you with adoration nonetheless.
when you stop, he's pouting with his arms crossed in front of his chest.
"you can't do that, baby ! my heart can't take this."
"well, stop being so cute. were going out if you want to, handsome. i can't refuse you anything when you're looking at me this way."
XU MINGHAO
cause of the aggression : him peacefully reading on a random saturday, all cozy on your couch.
you came from behind the couch, inhaling his scent as you buried your head in his hair.
minghao chuckled, but he let you nuzzle your head in his neck and kiss him all you wanted.
when you feel satisfied, you wrap your hands around his shoulders and he voluntarily leans his cheeks towards you, so you kiss him there too with a grin.
minghao is used to your impulsive thoughts but when you show your appreciation like that, it never fails to make his heart flutter.
"you made me lose track of my book."
"then re-read it to me, i love listening to your voice."
BOO SEUNGKWAN
cause of the aggression : the way he's so excited that you went with him to play badminton is making you fall in love all over again.
before the both of you can even start playing, you grab his hand to stop him and cut his face in your hands.
you pepper his whole face in kisses, but seungkwan is trying to playfully push you away.
it's only for form because his ears are slowly turning to a bright shade of red as he continues to sulk.
you place a last kiss on his nose before grabbing your racket and walking to the court, seungkwan following right behind you and trying to hide his grin.
"why did you do that ? we're in public, y/n !"
"oh, shut up, you loved it. and if you want me to stop, then you shouldn't be this adorable."
CHWE HANSOL
cause of the aggression : he's talking about his latest idea for a song and he's so adorable when he's passionate you just cannot help it.
you're currently laying on his chest in his bed, so all you have to do is to bury your head in his shirt.
then, you slowly start to kiss up his body, while hansol looks at you with wide and confused eyes.
your last kiss is on his lips and he still seems lost.
so you kiss him again, deeper, and he finally relaxes under your touch even if he doesn't understand why you feel the need to attack him like that.
but you're his beautiful partner, he's not going to complain at all, on the contrary.
"you're weird sometimes, y/n."
"you're weird too, that's why we're such a good match."
LEE CHAN
cause of the aggression : him preparing breakfast for the two of you because it's too cute to resist.
you walk in the kitchen, still rubbing the sleep from your eyes when you notice chan dancing around the kitchen while finishing up what he's been cooking.
he's literally the perfect man, you have to reward him by wrapping your hands around his waist from behind and leaving kisses and bites all over his shoulders.
and you're glad he doesn't wear a tee to sleep, it makes your access to his skin easier.
chan turns around as soon as you stop, and you easily notice the blush on his cheeks that you kiss too with a smile.
"good morning, baby."
"it is indeed a very good morning. i want that every day, please."
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-> i don't allow any copies, reposts or translations of my work.
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svt taglist (fill in this to be added) :
@lil-kpopstan @hann1bee @heevllog @lichyuu @bewoyewo @foxinnie8
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theetherealbloom · 3 months ago
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The Things I Would Do, Just To Be Here With You
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Summary: Amidst the whirlwind of movie premieres and busy schedules, you and Pedro Pascal, both thriving in your respective careers, find ways to celebrate each other despite the distance. While Pedro promotes Gladiator 2 in London, he longs for your presence at the after-party.
Or, you two would scream at the stars for keeping you apart... and the government too.
“Pedro Pascal x f!reader, Pedro is promoting Gladiator 2, and reader is in Wicked (Elphaba or Galinda of course!) for the screenplay of Wicked, and they are just really supportive of each other but also joke about their own movie being the best. Finding time to come to each other’s premiers. Posting behind the scenes or visiting each other.” — From @imaginemixedfandom
Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader
Warnings: Established Relationship, TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Angst, Swearing, Anxiety, Surrounded by A-Listers, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Red Carpet, Cameras, Paparazzi, Long Distance, Timezone Difference, Social Media, Interviews, I’m not a Spanish speaker, I might be wrong with the terms, please don’t come after me T^T,
Word Count: 4.4k
A/N: Ty @imaginemixedfandom for giving the idea! I didn’t really want to replace the reader with the cast of Ariana Grande and Cynthia Erivo. Those two are just too iconic. So instead I will make the reader a writer for the screenplay adaptation of Wicked tehe. You all should listen to brent iii by Jeremy Zucker and Chelsea Cutler, it’s absolutely one of my favorite albums of this year. Lastly, remember this is all fictional and for fun! Enjoyyyy my loves!
Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!
Song: and the government too! By Jeremy Zucker & Chelsea Cutler
gif by @andrew-garfielld
| Main Masterlist |
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NEW YORK, NEW YORK — EVENING
“Hi.” Your voice was soft as you nestled deeper into the duvet, your body cocooned in its comforting folds.
“Hola, mi amor.” Pedro’s face lit up on your phone screen, the warm timbre of his voice washing over you like a balm. “I miss you.” “I miss you too… so much,” you replied with a little pout. The time difference between London and New York was merciless. Between his packed schedule promoting Gladiator 2 and prepping for Fantastic Four, and your whirlwind of work with the Wicked movie premiere, your conversations had been reduced to stolen moments like this. Still, even through a screen, Pedro had a way of making you feel like the most important person in the world. “You look cozy,” he said with a lopsided grin, his brown eyes crinkling at the corners. “Meanwhile, I’m freezing my ass off here on set. I think my nose might fall off.” You laughed softly, the sound tinged with longing. “I’d trade you, you know. I’ll take the cold if it means I get to see you.”
“Don’t tempt me.” He leaned closer to the camera, his face filling your screen. “If I weren’t contractually obligated to be here, I’d hop on the next flight and show up at your premiere tomorrow. Red carpet and all.” You smiled wistfully, your fingers brushing against the edge of your phone as if you could reach through it to touch him. “You’d outshine me. Imagine the headlines: ‘Pedro Pascal steals the show at Wicked premiere.’” “Please. Everyone’s going to be talking about you. ‘Brilliant screenwriter dazzles Hollywood!’” He paused, his tone softening. “You’re incredible, you know that?” Your throat tightened at his words, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “Stop, or I’ll actually cry, and my face will be all puffy for tomorrow.” He chuckled. “Okay, okay. But seriously, mi amor, I’m so proud of you. You’ve worked so hard for this.” “And so have you,” you countered. “The Gladiator 2 trailer broke the internet, and you still found time to send me flowers last week. You’re amazing, Pedro.” “Yeah, but flowers aren’t the same as being there with you.” His voice dipped, a hint of regret slipping through. “I hate being this far away.” You sighed, your heart aching in tandem with his. “Me too.”
For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence filled with the unspoken tension of your shared longing. Then, Pedro’s grin returned, bright and mischievous. “So,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “who do you think has the better movie? Be honest.”
You raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “Are you seriously asking me to compare Wicked to Gladiator 2? One’s a heartfelt, magical adaptation, and the other is a testosterone-filled epic. They’re different.”
“Uh-huh,” he teased, crossing his arms. “Sounds like you’re dodging the question. I knew you were scared to admit Gladiator 2 is better.”
You scoffed, sitting up straighter in bed. “Scared? Please. I just don’t want to hurt your feelings when Wicked inevitably becomes a global phenomenon.”
Pedro laughed, the sound rich and contagious. “You’re lucky I love you. Otherwise, this would be grounds for war.”
“Lucky? You’re the lucky one,” you shot back, smirking. “I’ll prove it when I finally see you in person again. But until then…”
You brought the phone closer, pressing a soft kiss to the screen. Pedro mimicked your gesture, his lips brushing his camera lens.
“Goodnight, mi vida,” he murmured.
“Goodnight, Pedro.” Your voice was tender, laced with all the love you couldn’t put into words.
As the call ended, you clutched the phone to your chest, a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips. Despite the distance, despite the chaos of your lives, you knew one thing for certain: Pedro Pascal would always be worth the wait.
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NEW YORK, NEW YORK — MORNING
Today was the day. You were walking the red carpet for the Wicked movie premiere. A sea of celebrities, producers, fellow writers, and editors would surround you. The sheer magnitude of it all left you feeling both giddy and utterly petrified.  
You smoothed your hands over the silk robe you wore, your palms damp with nerves. While you loved the craft of storytelling, the spotlight had always felt daunting. You preferred to let your work speak for itself—a tendency that paired surprisingly well with dating Pedro Pascal, the literal human embodiment of charisma and charm.  
“There, all done,” Laura, your makeup artist, said with a satisfied grin.  
You blinked at your reflection in the mirror. Your skin glowed, your eyes were accentuated just enough to look striking without overwhelming, and your lips were painted a perfect shade of confidence.  
“You’ve outdone yourself,” you said, giving her a warm smile.  
“Of course I did,” Laura replied with a wink. “Big night for my favorite screenwriter.”  
Mia, your stylist, emerged from behind a rack of gowns, holding up the dress. “Speaking of big nights... Ready to put this beauty on?”  
You nodded, though your smile wavered. “I just wish Pedro were here,” you admitted, your voice quieter now.  
Laura and Mia exchanged sympathetic glances before Laura gently squeezed your shoulder. “You’re going to look incredible, and he’d lose his mind if he saw you. How about we take some pictures to send him? A little preview for the man himself.”  
You hesitated, glancing at your phone on the vanity. “I don’t want to distract him. He’s busy with interviews and set work. London and New York aren’t exactly next door…”  
“All is fair in love and war,” Laura teased, her giggle breaking the tension. “Come on, babe! If anything, it’ll be motivation for him to hop on the next flight.”  
Mia chimed in, smirking. “Or just to remind him what he’s missing. Trust me, teasing Pedro is a public service.”  
You laughed despite yourself, feeling the nerves lift slightly. “Fine, fine. But if he complains, I’m blaming you two.”  
They ushered you into the dress—a masterpiece of emerald silk and intricate detailing that clung perfectly in all the right places. As Mia zipped you up, Laura stepped back, her hands pressed dramatically over her heart.  
“Pedro’s going to lose his shit.”  
“You look like a literal goddess,” Mia added, spinning you toward the mirror.  
For a moment, you hardly recognized yourself. The reflection staring back radiated elegance and confidence, even if you didn’t entirely feel it yet.  
“Okay, okay. Take the pictures,” you relented, biting your lip as you tried to contain your grin.  
Laura grabbed your phone and started snapping. You struck a few playful poses, twirling and laughing as Mia adjusted the hem of your dress. It felt silly, but imagining Pedro’s reaction warmed your chest.  
Once the photos were taken, you grabbed your phone and hovered over the message screen. You debated for a moment, then attached the best photo and typed a quick message.  
You: Wish you were here. But since you’re not... Enjoy this. Don’t let it distract you too much, cariño.  
You hit send before you could second-guess yourself, the familiar swoosh of the message sending making your heart race.  
The reply came faster than you expected.  
Pedro: Distract me? How am I supposed to do anything now? You look like an angel. No, better than an angel. Drop-dead stunning. 
You couldn’t stop the grin from taking over your face.  
Pedro: Red carpet better be ready. They’ve got no idea who they’re dealing with tonight.  
The butterflies in your stomach multiplied tenfold. Before you could reply, another message appeared.  
Pedro: I’m so proud of you. Go knock ’em dead, mi amor. I love you.  
Your throat tightened, and you had to blink back the sudden tears threatening to ruin Laura’s hard work. You tapped out a quick reply.  
You: I love you too. Now go back to being the coolest man alive.  
“You okay over there?” Mia asked, watching you with a knowing smile.  
“More than okay,” you said softly, tucking your phone away.  
As you prepared to step into the whirlwind of the premiere, Pedro’s words echoed in your mind. Even from thousands of miles away, he made you feel invincible.  
Tonight wasn’t just about the red carpet or the glitz and glamour. It was about celebrating what you loved—and knowing Pedro would always be your biggest cheerleader, no matter where in the world he was.  
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UNITED KINGDOM, LONDON — AFTERNOON  
Pedro sighed deeply, his head resting against the back of his chair. The steady hum of activity on set felt like background noise, the voices and clatter muffled by the ache in his chest. His fingers drummed lightly against his thigh, the motion absent-minded, a physical echo of the restlessness he felt inside.  
He missed you.  
It wasn’t the casual longing of someone who hadn’t seen their partner in a while—it was the kind of yearning that settled into his bones, heavy and persistent. A few hundred miles of ocean separated you, but it may as well have been an entire galaxy.  
He opened his phone and scrolled back to the picture you’d sent him that morning. The emerald dress, the way it hugged your form, the way your eyes sparkled even in a still image—it took his breath away. You looked like a dream. His dream.  
“If I were there right now…” he murmured under his breath, running his thumb over the screen as if he could touch you.  
If it were as simple as hopping on a flight, he’d already be on his way. He imagined the way you’d light up when you saw him, how you’d rush into his arms. He’d bury his face in your hair, inhale your scent, and hold you so tightly that he’d forget about the world outside.  
But it wasn’t that simple. The timing was off, as it so often was with both your careers in full swing. He was tied to the production schedule of Fantastic Four, and you were in the spotlight for Wicked. The universe seemed determined to keep you apart, and for the first time in years, Pedro felt the cracks in his patience.  
He closed his eyes, resting his elbows on his knees as he leaned forward. “Damn stars. Damn schedules. Damn… government,” he muttered bitterly. The laugh that followed was humorless, the frustration thick in his voice.  
If he could, he’d scream at the stars for conspiring against you both. Curse the invisible forces that made life so complicated. He’d barter with time itself, twist it and stretch it, just to have you here with him for a few stolen moments.  
He wondered what you were doing right now. Were you nervous about the red carpet? Did you feel as hollow without him as he felt without you? Pedro clenched his jaw, guilt gnawing at him. You deserved to have him there, to walk that carpet with you, to hold your hand and beam with pride as you took in the applause for your work.  
“Pedro, they’re ready for you!”  
The call from a production assistant jolted him from his thoughts. He blinked, the weight of reality crashing back down as he stood and stretched.  
“Be right there,” he called back, tucking his phone into his pocket.  
As he made his way back to the soundstage, he couldn’t shake the thought of tomorrow. The Gladiator 2 premiere loomed ahead, another milestone he should be celebrating with you by his side. Instead, you’d be halfway across the world.  
But one day, he promised himself, one day, nothing will keep us apart.  
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NEW YORK, NEW YORK — EVENING 
The flashing lights were relentless, casting an almost blinding glow over the red carpet. The screams of fans and the constant click of cameras created a symphony of chaos, one you weren’t entirely comfortable navigating. You’d always preferred the quiet—curled up with a book, tucked away from the world’s prying eyes.  
But tonight, you smiled and posed alongside your cast and the production crew. You owed it to them, to yourself, and to the story you’d helped bring to life.  
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Winnie Holzman, the original writer of Wicked, leaned in with a smile, her eyes sparkling as she looked at the crowd.  
You nodded, though your voice was tinged with nervousness. “It’s incredible. Overwhelming, but in the best way.”  
“You’ve done amazing work,” Dana Fox chimed in, her excitement infectious. “We wouldn’t be standing here without your screenplay tying it all together.”  
Jon M. Chu, ever the cheerleader, clapped you lightly on the back. “Tonight’s your night too. Own it.”  
You laughed softly, feeling a little more at ease with their encouragement. Together, the four of you posed for the cameras, sharing a few candid laughs before heading closer to the press area.  
As you stepped into the spotlight for interviews, the questions started flying.  
“How does it feel to see Wicked finally come to life on the big screen?”  
“It feels surreal,” you answered, your smile genuine. “Everyone on this project has poured so much heart into it. To see it come together like this is... overwhelming in the best way.”  
“You’re known for being quite private. How are you handling all the attention tonight?”  
“It’s definitely out of my comfort zone,” you admitted with a small laugh. “But I’m surrounded by such a talented and supportive team, which makes it easier.”  
Then, inevitably, came the question you’d been bracing for. “We couldn’t help but notice that Pedro Pascal isn’t here tonight. Do you miss him?”  
The question tugged at something deep inside you. “I miss him so much,” you said softly, your expression softening. “He’s busy promoting Gladiator 2 and filming in London. I know he wishes he could be here, just like I wish I could be there for him. We’re both incredibly proud of each other, though.” You grinned, a playful sparkle in your eyes. “But, of course, Wicked is better. Don’t tell him I said that.”  
The interviewer laughed, and you followed with a wink before stepping away.  
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AFTER THE PREMIERE  
As the credits rolled and the crowd applauded, you walked alongside Jon, Winnie, and Dana toward the exit. The night air was cool and refreshing after the heat of the theater.  
“You were glowing on that carpet,” Winnie teased, nudging you gently.  
Jon smirked. “Bet it’s because of a certain someone who couldn’t make it.”  
You flushed immediately, your cheeks warming. “Stop,” you mumbled, though your smile betrayed your embarrassment.  
“Oh, come on,” Dana added with a laugh. “You were gushing about him earlier. Just admit it—you’re head over heels.”  
You sighed dramatically, though your heart raced just thinking about Pedro. “Okay, fine. I miss him like crazy. I just—” You paused, glancing up at the stars. “I wish I could be there for him, you know? For his premiere. He’s always so supportive of me. It feels wrong not to do the same.”  
Jon stopped walking, turning to face you with a thoughtful look. “So go.”  
“What?”  
“Go to him,” he said with a shrug. “Take the jet. I’ll make the call.”  
You blinked at him, stunned. “You—you’d let me do that?”  
“Of course,” Jon said, waving off your concern. “You’re part of the heart of this project. If being with him makes you happy, it’s worth it.”  
“But I don’t have a ticket, and I need to pack, and—”  
Dana held up a hand, already pulling out her phone. “Relax. I’ll call a car, and we’ll pack together. You just focus on getting there.”  
Before you could protest further, Jon had already stepped aside, dialing someone on his phone. Dana grabbed your arm and started steering you toward the waiting car.  
“You’re really doing this,” she said, grinning.  
“I—I guess I am.” Your voice trembled with excitement and nerves. “What if I don’t make it in time? What if—”  
Dana cut you off with a gentle squeeze on your shoulder. “You’ll make it. And even if you don’t, just being there will mean everything to him.”  
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AT THE AIRPORT  
The private jet was waiting for you, its sleek frame illuminated by the glow of the runway lights. You quickly texted Pedro’s manager and assistant, letting them know you were on your way.  
You: I’m coming to London. Please don’t tell him. I want it to be a surprise.  
The response was almost immediate:  
Franklin Latt: Got it. He’s going to lose his mind—in the best way.  
As you settled into your seat and the jet began to taxi, your heart raced. Seven hours separated you from Pedro, but for the first time in days, the distance didn’t feel insurmountable.  
You leaned your head back against the seat, clutching your phone tightly as you closed your eyes. You could already picture the look on his face when he saw you.  
Just hold on, Pedro. I’m on my way.  
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UNITED KINGDOM, LONDON, ODEON LUXE LEICESTER SQUARE — EVENING
The energy in Leicester Square was electric. Fans filled the barricades, the roar of excitement nearly drowning out the camera flashes as Pedro made his way down the red carpet. Dressed in a sharp black shirt, the top unbuttoned, slacks, his signature charm, and a warm smile lit up every interaction as he stopped to greet fans and pose for photos.
The press area was bustling, and soon Pedro found himself standing in front of a journalist holding a microphone.
“Pedro, congratulations on Gladiator 2! How does it feel to be here tonight celebrating this film?”
Pedro grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “It feels incredible. This is one of those projects you dream about as an actor, and to see it all come together, to see everyone’s hard work pay off, it’s… it’s a real honor.”
The interviewer nodded. “You’ve had an amazing year, between this and your other projects. But we couldn’t help but notice that someone special in your life had a big night recently—the Wicked premiere in New York. Did you get a chance to see any photos?”
Pedro’s face lit up instantly, a laugh bubbling out of him. “Oh, I did. Believe me, I did. She sent me some pictures, and I’ve seen the ones floating around online too. I mean… she looked absolutely stunning. Like, knock-you-out, breathtakingly gorgeous. I might be a little biased, but still.”
The crowd nearby caught wind of his gushing, and a few cheers erupted. Pedro laughed, scratching the back of his neck.
“Honestly, I’m so proud of her,” he continued, his voice softening. “She poured so much of herself into that screenplay, and to see her get the recognition she deserves? It’s the best feeling in the world.”
The interviewer smiled. “There’s definitely a lot of love and mutual admiration between you two. Word on the street is you’ve got a bit of a friendly competition going on—Gladiator 2 versus Wicked. Any truth to that?”
Pedro chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh, it’s absolutely true. We’ve got a bet going. She’s convinced Wicked is going to sweep the box office, and I, of course, have complete faith in Gladiator 2. Let’s just say the stakes are high—winner gets breakfast in bed for a week.”
The interviewer laughed along with him. “That’s adorable. Who’s winning so far?”
Pedro smirked. “Let’s just say she’s got me a little worried. But I’ll never admit that to her.”
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LATER, BACKSTAGE
Pedro leaned against the wall, sipping from a glass of water while chatting with Paul Mescal. Their conversation flowed easily, but Pedro’s gaze kept drifting toward the entrance, as if hoping for some sort of miracle.
“You’ve got that look again,” Paul teased, nudging him with his elbow.
“What look?” Pedro asked, feigning ignorance.
“The ‘I’m desperately in love and missing my girl’ look,” Paul quipped with a grin.
Denzel Washington, who had just joined the conversation, chuckled. “He’s not wrong, man. You’ve been staring off into space like a lovesick teenager.”
Joe Quinn walked by, overhearing the exchange and throwing in his two cents. “It’s cute, though. Very romantic. Someone should write a movie about it.”
Pedro rolled his eyes, though a bashful smile crept onto his face. “Okay, okay, I miss her. Can you blame me? She’s halfway across the world, and I can’t stop thinking about her.”
Frank, Pedro’s manager, stepped in, giving him a supportive pat on the back. “You’ve got it bad, buddy. But hey, it’s not a bad problem to have.”
Frank couldn’t help but smile to himself, already knowing what Pedro didn’t—that you were on your way. He could only imagine Pedro’s reaction when he saw you walk through those doors.
“Alright,” Pedro said with a dramatic sigh, “can we please focus on the fact that we’re here for Gladiator 2 and not my love life?”
“Sure,” Paul said, smirking. “But if she shows up, we’re all watching you lose it.”
Pedro laughed, shaking his head. “I’ll take that bet.”
Little did he know, he was about to owe a lot of people a round of drinks.
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UNITED KINGDOM, LONDON, ODEON LUXE LEICESTER SQUARE — EVENING  
The crowd in the after-party buzzed with excitement, a mix of A-list chatter and glasses clinking. Pedro stood near Lux, their conversation about the night’s success lighthearted, though his gaze kept drifting toward the entrance. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, only that the ache of missing you hadn’t dulled, even amidst all the celebration.  
Lux, sharp-eyed as always, caught the slight shift in his expression and smirked. “You’ve got that look again,” she teased.  
“What look?” Pedro asked, feigning nonchalance as he sipped his drink.  
“The one that screams, ‘I wish she were here.’” Lux nudged his arm playfully.  
Before he could muster a witty retort, Lux’s eyes darted toward the entrance, widening in surprise. “Well, speak of the devil…”  
Pedro turned, following her gaze, and the breath left his lungs.  
There you were, stepping into the room, your black silk gown catching the dim lights perfectly. Your hair, slightly tousled from the rush, framed your face with an effortless beauty that made his heart stop. Heads turned as you walked in with Frank, but Pedro didn’t notice anyone else.  
He froze, jaw slack, his mind racing to comprehend that you were actually here.  
“Pedro,” Lux whispered, amused. “Close your mouth before you catch a fly.”  
But Pedro couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe. All he could do was watch as you walked toward him, the soft smile on your lips turning into a grin as your eyes met his. He vaguely registered Joe, Paul, and Denzel laughing nearby, but he didn’t care. You were here.  
When you finally stopped in front of him, your grin widened, and you quipped, “Sorry, I’m late. Traffic was terrible—there’s a movie premiere happening, and I—”  
Before you could finish, Pedro moved.  
He swept you up in his arms, lifting you off your feet as a chorus of cheers, whistles, and laughter erupted around you. You let out a surprised giggle, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck as he held you close, burying his face against your shoulder.  
“Dios mío,” Pedro murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re here.”  
“I’m here,” you whispered back, your fingers threading through his curls.  
He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes brimming with love. “I can’t believe this. You’re really here.”  
You smiled, tears threatening to spill as you cupped his face. “I couldn’t let you have all the fun without me.”  
Pedro didn’t hesitate. He closed the distance, kissing you with a fervor that made the entire room fade away. The kiss was deep, all-consuming, and when you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless.  
Your laughter broke the moment, and Pedro pressed his forehead to yours, his hands still firmly around your waist as if afraid you might disappear. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice trembling slightly.  
“For what?” you asked softly, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw.  
“For being here. For being you. For… everything.” His voice was low, reverent. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’ll never stop thanking the universe for it.”  
You kissed him again, a soft press of lips this time, and smiled against his mouth. “You don’t have to thank the universe. Just let me love you.”  
Pedro let out a soft laugh, his arms tightening around you. “You’re incredible, you know that?”  
“You’ve mentioned it once or twice,” you teased, resting your head against his chest as the room slowly came back into focus.  
From the sidelines, Joe nudged Paul, chuckling. “Think he’s gonna let her go anytime soon?”  
Paul smirked. “Not a chance.”  
Denzel clinked his glass against Joe’s. “Now that’s a man in love.”  
And Pedro? He didn’t care about the laughter, the cameras, or even the early morning call time tomorrow. For now, you were in his arms, and nothing else mattered.
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2K notes · View notes
lavnderwonu · 3 months ago
Text
So High School | Kim Mingyu
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pairing: fiancé!mingyu x pregnant!fem!reader
rating: fluff, mature
genre: non-idol au, slice of life, established relationship
summary: you and your fiancé haven't discussed the idea of you having children, but with your wedding approaching, the idea of starting a family with him has been on your mind.
warnings: please read ALL! contains smut! not much but a little! (!!!) some time skips, reader gets pregnant, planned pregnancy, reader's mom loves mingyu, reader deals with morning sickness (for my fellow emetophobics this may be triggering!), minwon coworkers mentioned, smut warnings: creampie, unprotected sex, multiple rounds mentioned, backshots, fingering.
word count: 3k
AHEM! go listen to so high school by taylor swift (perhaps while you read!)
author's note!: i listened to taylor waaaay too much while i was writing this, as you can probably tell by the title 🫣 what can i say! guilty. my first time writing slice of life au! i had fun lowkey. AGHHH i just love writing cute mingyu esp when it involves future dad mingyu. the song lyrics are meant to be spacers for the time-skips btw! shoutout to @jenoslutie for also supporting my vision with this 💋 muah xo
click here to join my taglist!
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I feel so high school every time I look at you, I wanna find you in a crowd just to hide from you...
Mingyu was your dream man in many ways than one. The perfect boy to bring home to your parents, cooked delicious meals for you, and overall made you feel safe. 
You two had been engaged for months now, and wedding planning was well underway, the date set for early into the new year. As if it wasn’t stressful enough, your mom had already started questioning whether the two of you had wanted children, or planned to in the future. The answer was always the same,
“Mom, I don’t know… we haven’t talked about it into a lot of detail… maybe later on…” or “C’mon, we’re still young, Mom!” 
Mingyu didn’t know any of this, and you’d probably never tell him, not wanting him to feel pressured by your badgering mother. You both knew you wanted children eventually, but you never talked that far into the future.
But… you also thought… maybe you would want to have children, if it was with Mingyu. 
Mingyu would be the father to play dress up and makeovers with your daughter, have tea parties with her, or play with faux tools with your son and pretend to fix things, and play with plastic dinosaurs.
You couldn't picture anybody that would be more perfect to do it with than him.
Are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me? It's just a game, but really I'm bettin' on all three for us two...
Mingyu stands at the kitchen counter, cooking dinner like he usually does, and he usually insists since he gets home a little earlier from work than you do most days. 
You come from the kitchen after changing out of your work clothes to see him chopping garlic as a pot is boiling on the stove. 
“What are you making?”
“Agio e olio,” Mingyu responds, looking up to smile at you briefly. “I know it’s your favorite, and you said you were craving it.”
You smile, coming over to kiss him on the cheek quickly. “Thank you, you make it so good anyway.” You chuckle as he playfully rolls his eyes. 
He tosses the garlic in a pan on the stove, stirring it a little, then adds the pasta to the boiling water.
You decide now is the time to break your silence, and tell him what’s been on your mind lately.
“Gyu,” You speak up. “… I think we should talk about something.” 
“What?” Mingyu’s gaze turns to meet yours, a concerned look on his face, and you immediately want to kiss him and make it go away.
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“I’ve been thinking…” You pause, racking your brain on how to word what you’re about to tell him, also given that you didn’t want to scare him. “What do you think about us… having a baby?” 
You look up at his undeniable surprised expression; after all you did come out of nowhere with that statement.
“I mean, I know we haven’t really discussed it much, and we’re getting married in a few months… but I have been thinking about it a lot, and I want to, we’re at that age-“ You break out into a nervous ramble before he cuts you off.
“I’ve thought about it too. I thought it should be something that we should…you know… talk about.” Mingyu says.
“I don’t want to put any pressure on you, or I guess, on us.” You continue. “I know we’re not married officially yet, and our wedding isn’t until a few more months, but I don’t know, I think I want to.” 
Mingyu turns to you, smiling ear to ear in the adorable happy puppy way he typically does when he’s over the top excited about something. “I know, me too.”
“Does this mean… we’re trying?” You can’t even hide your smile, your cheeks hurt as you attempt to be the least bit nonchalant.
“Yeah… fuck… c’mere.” Mingyu pulls you closer to him, kissing you fervently.
You pull back, releasing his grip from your waist.
“Hey, after dinner,” You smirk, giggling at his eagerness. “You’re gonna burn your garlic.”
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“Mingyu… I can’t, fuck-“ You whine, your face nearly buried into the pillow underneath you.
“Yeah you can baby…” Mingyu grunts, his hand slides up your back to push you down even more. “Taking it all like a good girl…”
You nearly collapse as you can barely hold yourself up anymore, and you’re being pushed forward almost to the headboard from the force of him behind you.
“I’m gonna come, ‘gyu.” You cry, your hand trailing down to rub tight circles on your clit, making your thighs tremble as you push yourself closer to the edge. 
“Go on baby…” Mingyu groans, feeling you get tighter around him. “Cum all over my cock like a good girl.”
You cry his name again as he pushes you over the edge, white-knuckling the sheets as he keeps thrusting inside you, almost even harder.
“Fuck…”  He groans as he slows down, stilling before he comes inside you.
He pulls out, watching himself drip out of you briefly as he curses under his breath, before he pushes it back inside you with two fingers, making you whine.
“Sorry, baby…” Mingyu sweetly apologizes.
You flip over on your back, pulling him down to kiss him.
“I wanna go again…” You say against his lips, pushing his sweaty long hair back.
“Really?” He asks sweetly, leaning down to kiss your neck a few times. “Wasn’t too much?”
“Never…”
Truth, dare, spin bottles, You know how to ball, I know Aristotle Brand new, full-throttle, Touch me while your bros play Grand Theft Auto...
The next few weeks were just the usual. Going into work during the day, shopping for the wedding with your sister, … Mingyu practically never leaving you alone, but that you wouldn’t complain about.
“What kind of flowers are you guys doing?” Your sister asks you. The two of you made plans to get coffee, and you guys typically talked about whatever. She always voiced her opinion on your life whether it was boyfriends, career moves, and now: your wedding.
“White lilies; one of my favorites. Mingyu said I could just pick what I wanted, he’s happy with whatever I choose.” You say.
“That’s sweet,” She smiles, stirring her matcha latte. “Even though, he probably doesn’t care.” She chuckles.
“You’re probably right, I think he has other things on his mind other than flowers.” You laugh, only you know what you mean by that. 
You never told her the both of you had been trying to have a baby.
“I’ve always liked him, though, you know that.” She smiles. “If there’s anybody you marry and spend forever with, i'm glad it’s him. He’s just right for you.”
You smile, glancing down as your gaze flickers on your sparkling engagement ring under the coffee shop lights.
You’re definitely glad it’s him.
“Do you mind if we go into the grocery store down the street? I need to just run in and get a few things.” She asks you.
You nod. “Yeah, that’s fine. I could probably use a few things too.” 
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“How do you know if a watermelon is a really good one?” She asks you, as the fruit by the entrance catches her eye.
“You’re asking me?” You laugh. “I have no idea, I have heard though if they’re a dark green, it’s too watery.”
“You were always good at picking them, I know Mom used to always say that.” She replies. “Maybe I won’t get one, are they even in season?”
“Probably not, it’s November. Anyway, what did you need here?” You say, grabbing a hand basket for yourself.
“Just usual stuff, yogurt… eggs, oat milk, some strawberries… whatever else I find that I think i need.” She says, placing strawberries and avocados in her cart. Already straying from the list. 
You follow her, bagging up some apples, cucumbers, and brussel sprouts into your basket. 
You’re both wandering down the ice cream aisle, as you’re grabbing whatever pint of peanut butter ice cream you can find, when your sister speaks up.
“Oh! Let’s go to the hygiene section, I need to get some tampons. That time of the month soon.”
You pause, ice cream in hand, suddenly racking your brain trying to remember when the last time your period was. A few weeks ago? Last month? Were you supposed to get it? Were you late?
“Y/n…? What’s wrong? Everything okay?” She asks, seemingly able to read your inner monologue going on in your head. 
“Y-yeah…” You reply, placing the ice cream in your basket, all while your heart is still racing. Was it joy? Nervousness? “It’s just… I can’t remember the last time I had my period…”
I'm watching American Pie with you on a Saturday night Your friends are around, so be quiet, I'm trying to stifle my sighs 'Cause I feel so high school, Every time I look at you...
“I feel bad doing this without him,” You say, staring down at the two blinking pregnancy tests on the counter. “Mingyu should be here…”
“He’ll be home from work soon won’t he? You’ll tell him then. C’mon, he’ll understand, practically sister code for me to be the first one to know.” She replies, checking the time on her phone. 
It’s true, you both always did tell each other everything before you told anybody else. 
“It’s almost time.”
“I can’t look.” You anxiously turn away. “It’s killing me.”
“How did this happen?” She asks. “I mean… not to be nosey….”
“Well we talked about it, and we’ve been kinda… sorta, trying to get pregnant.” 
“What?! How come you didn’t tell me you were?” She exclaims, playfully shoving you.
“We decided to about a little over a month ago. We talked about it, we decided it was something we both wanted,” You start, just as her phone timer goes off, you quickly turn around from the counter. “Oh my god, oh my god, I can’t look.”
“I’ll do it first,” She says, shoving her way in front of you. “Oh my god… y/n…” You can hear the excitement and smile in her voice.
You turn around, facing the two tests.
You see it, “pregnant”, displayed clearly on both.
“Oh my god, I don’t,” You almost stutter, lost for words. “I- I don’t know what to say.”
“Good news?” She asks.
“Yeah, yeah, of course.” You smile, suddenly becoming teary, feeling a bunch of emotions at once. Excitement. Nervousness.  “I just- fuck… I wish Mingyu was here. I didn’t want to find out like this.”
“Relax, you’ll tell him later,” She laughs. “Especially ‘cause I know you won’t be able to keep this from him long.”
“No, you’re absolutely right. There’s no way I’m holding it in.”
And in a blink of a crinkling eye I'm sinking, our fingers entwined Cheeks pink in the twinkling lights Tell me 'bout the first time you saw me...
You spend the evening trying to decide elaborate ways that you’ll tell him. 
Putting a test in a gift bag as a present? Corny.
Hiding it somewhere and letting him find it? Too lame.
You decided to literally just come right out and tell him, especially because you didn’t want to figure out some cliche way of getting it out.
Mingyu comes home from work, greeting you as he walks in the door, adorably kissing your forehead as he wraps his arms around you, perfectly engulfing you.
“How was your day, honey?” He sweetly asks you, genuinely curious as he’s awaiting your answer. 
“It was good actually, I had coffee with my sister, then we went to the grocery store, doesn’t sound like much but we had fun.” You lean up and kiss his lips, smiling.
“But it’s better now that you’re here.” 
Mingyu smiles, kissing you again.
“I’m going to get changed really quick, okay?” Mingyu says.
You jokingly pout. “Aw, but you look so nice in your slacks and button up shirt… at least let me savor it.” You reach up, undoing a few buttons on his shirt.
“Enjoying this?” Mingyu chuckles.
“Yes, very.” You smile.
“Well I was gonna ask you, if you wanted to, Wonwoo and Seungcheol asked if we wanted to go out and get dinner with them, and hang out maybe get some drinks.” He continues, before he starts walking off to your shared bedroom to change, as you follow him. “Wonwoo asked me before I left the office.” 
“I don’t know… maybe?” You reply, hesitating a bit.
Meanwhile your mind works a mile a minute trying to think of how to break this news of yours to him.
“It wouldn’t be until a little later, if that’s better. No rush.” Mingyu says, nonchalantly unbuttoning his shirt and slipping it off. What a distraction. 
He slips on a white t-shirt , and gray sweatpants; his usual after work attire. Suddenly you wonder if whatever you have to tell him is really that important anyway, and you immediately consider just saying “forget it” and fucking him right here in the early hours of the evening. What’d be the big deal? You were already pregnant, anyways.
No! You quickly shake that thought from your mind, refocusing.
“Gyu,” You start, getting his full attention. “There’s something… I have to tell you something.”
“What?” 
“I’m not even really sure how to tell you, um hang on,” You continue, leaving the room quickly to retrieve one of the pregnancy tests you’d left in the bathroom. 
You come back, very obviously holding something behind your back.
“I guess I should say I kind of have a surprise to tell you.”
“What? What?” Mingyu asks, eager already by the way you’re already smirking, unable to contain yourself.
“It’s, um, this…” You start, pulling the test from behind your back. “I didn’t know how to tell you, I was gonna plan something but I couldn’t wait.” You laugh, smiling ear to ear.
Mingyu takes it from you, seemingly uncaring, or forgetting, that you literally peed on the thing. His mouth drops opened, in awe.
“Oh my god…” He speaks, beaming. “When did you find out?” 
“Today, actually.” You say. “I wound up taking a test, and… yeah.” 
You sigh. “I feel so weird about it, I know I was expecting it but I feel so excited and nervous at the same time.”
You glance up at Mingyu, and you see him still examining the test in his hand.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Mingyu nods, his eyes meeting yours and you see he’s now smiling. “I’m just… happy, surprised..”
“I mean, cmon, what were we really expecting…” You joke, blushing.
“You know what I mean, it’s still crazy to me.” Mingyu comes closer to you, kissing you. 
“Yeah, it sure is…” You smile up at him. 
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“It’s okay, honey,” Mingyu reassures you, speaking softly. “Just get it out…”
Mingyu kneels behind you on the cold tile floor, holding your hair back as you’re hanging your head over the toilet as your stomach empties its contents.
“There you go…” 
You wonder how he can even stand to be in the bathroom with you, if the roles were reversed, you’d be outside the door nearly gagging.
“Are you okay?” Mingyu asks, helping you sit up, as he wraps his arms around you to keep you steady. 
You slowly nod as you flush, still feeling a touch of nausea. “Yeah, can you just- just stay here for a little bit.” 
Mingyu sits on the tile floor as he leans against the bathtub, and he guides you back to sit in front of him.
You lean back into him, and he leans down and kisses your shoulder. You catch a glance at his watch on his wrist even in the dim light of the very early morning.
“Oh my god, Gyu, is it really 5am?” You groggily ask, feeling sorry. “You have to work in the morning, don’t you?”
“Shh, it’s okay, it’s not a big deal.” Mingyu reassures you. “I can always go in a little later, I wanna make sure you’re okay.” 
“…I think I’m good now,” You say, starting to stand up slowly, as Mingyu helps you all the way. “…You know, I have heard that the more nauseas you are, it probably means you’re having a girl. And if you have none at all, it’s probably a boy.”
Mingyu chuckles, “Where do you come up with this? Is that even a thing?” 
“The internet… you know, social media. Everything’s on there.” You protest.
“You’re delirious,” Mingyu playfully rolls his eyes. “Cmon, let’s go back to bed.”
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“Gyu, we have to leave in like an hour,” You say, as you’re getting ready in the bathroom, finishing up your final touches on your hair. “I don’t want to be late for dinner at my parents house.”
Mingyu stands in the doorway now, “This okay?” He shows off a navy blue polo shirt and black jeans. 
“Yeah, honey, you look nice.” You smile. “Besides, you could wear anything around her, she adores you anyways.” 
It was true. Your mother would always be calling Mingyu to help around the house when your Father was away on a business trip. She needed help fixing something? She’d call Mingyu. She needs help building a side table? You bet she’s calling Mingyu. His height was also a bonus, being able to reach things stored higher up.
Mingyu smiles at you adoringly, as his eyes trail down your body.
“What?” You ask when you notice him.
“You’re starting to show a little,” He smiles. “You look cute.”
You giggle, placing your hands on your stomach. “Yeah I know, she wants to be seen now, she’s done hiding.” 
“Well, are my girls ready to go?” Mingyu smiles, kissing you. 
“Yeah,” You giggle, smiling as you kiss him again. “Let’s go.” 
It's true, swear, scouts honor You knew what you wanted and boy, you got her.
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tags: @jenoslutie @wonuwrites @aaniag @cosmojinyoung
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yuujispinkhair · 11 months ago
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Bad Boy - Good Toy
Sukuna is used to girls throwing themselves at him, begging him to dominate them. He never met any resistance. He never met any challenge. Until he meets you, and suddenly, the bad boy becomes nothing but a willing fucktoy.
There is now a Part 02
Pairing: Sub!Sukuna x Dom!Reader (female) Genre: smut, College AU Word Count: 3.5k Warnings: 18+, smut, degradation, humiliation, edging, exhibitionism, voyeurism, smoking, mentions of drugs, sharing chewing gum, facesitting, squirting, abs-riding, overstimulation, Sukuna cums untouched, piss (Reader pees on Sukuna to humiliate him, and he likes it). Reader calls Sukuna slut, fucktoy and fuckdoll. Unhealthy relationship dynamics. Reader and Sukuna don't talk about limits or safe words. Sukuna is ok with everything Reader does to him, but please be aware that this isn't the way a sub/dom relationship is supposed to be in real life. I just wanted things to be a bit fucked up in this story ;) Divider @/benkeibear
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Sukuna is bored. So fucking bored. Bored with college in general, bored of the parties that are always the same, bored of the drugs that don't give him the kick he craves anymore. Even sex is boring nowadays. He sighs as his gaze brushes over the girl kneeling between his spread legs. He didn't bother asking for her name. He thinks she might be in his history course. But it doesn't matter. Nothing matters.
He doesn't even bother to hide from view, letting her suck him off in the back of the dimly lit living room on some ratty couch, while a few meters away, people are dancing and drinking and singing along to songs that Sukuna hates. She is eager, bopping her mouth on his dick enthusiastically, humming around him, and hollowing her cheeks like a champ. But he feels nothing at all. He isn't even sure he can cum tonight. It's like he is numb to everything. The nameless girl moans around his dick, and Sukuna grabs his phone to send his brother a message.
Where are you, brat? I want to leave.
He doesn't get a reply and instead checks his group chats and e-mails while the girl between his legs slurps loudly on his tip. Sukuna huffs in annoyance and lets his bored gaze travel through the room. It lands on a girl in a red t-shirt who is looking in his direction. You are sipping your drink casually while you unashamedly watch him getting his dick sucked.
It makes him grin broadly. Finally, a little bit of entertainment. Maybe he will manage to cum just to give that little voyeur a good show. And afterward, he can take you to one of the bedrooms and fuck you. Or maybe do it right here on that couch, too.
He winks at you. A smile spreads over your face, but it's not the smile Sukuna usually sees on the faces of the girls he plans to fuck. It's the kind of smile he sees in the mirror. A smile that means trouble. His cock twitches, and he groans softly.
He doesn't break eye contact, and neither do you. Sukuna raises an eyebrow challengingly, smirking at you, daring you to come over while he gets his dick sucked. His stomach flips when you really start walking towards him.
Sukuna's pulse accelerates when you stop right next to him. You let your gaze travel from his face down to his cock, watching it bop in and out of that other girl's mouth. You chuckle. It's not a nice sound.
"Aww, do you have problems cumming, Sukuna? Is your dick not working?"
For a stunned second, Sukuna just blinks at you, mouth hanging open. The resident bad boy rendered speechless for the first time in his life. And then he throws his head back and laughs, and simultaneously, he feels his balls tighten.
"If you get on all fours, I will show you just how good my dick works, sweetheart."
You roll your eyes and cross your arms in front of your breasts, looking at him with a bored and unimpressed expression.
"What makes you think I would let you get anywhere near me with that dick of yours. I don't want dirty, good-for-nothing sluts like you."
"What did you just call me?"
But his response lacks the bite. Instead, he sounds breathless, and his hand tightens on the couch as his cock twitches in the other girl's mouth. Fuck, it feels so good all of a sudden.
You smile that dangerous smile again and lean closer, your flowery perfume filling Sukuna's nose, and you repeat your words to him, slowly, overly accentuated as if he is stupid,
"Dirty. Good-for-nothing. Slut."
A raw groan spills from Sukuna's throat, and his hips buck off the couch, making the girl between his legs choke on his cock, as he nuts so hard into her mouth that she's spluttering his cum everywhere.
He stares wide-eyed at your smug face as the gears in his mind shift at lightspeed. What the fuck just happened?
The girl between his legs climbs onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck, and tries to kiss him, but Sukuna turns his face to the side, looking at you instead,
"Who do you think you are to talk to me like that?"
"Why? Enjoyed it too much, and now you are scared of how your body betrayed you, little slut?"
You laugh and turn around, walking away while you lift a hand in a mocking little wave, and Sukuna stares after you with his mind whirling and his cock still throbbing.
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He wakes up the next morning with a strange feeling in his gut. Something is different.
And after a moment, he realizes what it is when the memories from last night come back, and his eyes widen, and a whispered curse falls from his lips. The encounter with you replays in his mind just like it did countless times before he managed to fall asleep last night. Your cruel smile and the sadistic glint in your eyes. The way his body reacted to it.
He is so used to everyone cowering before him. So used to everyone submitting to him so willingly. All those countless girls throwing themselves at him, begging him to please let them suck his dick, obeying his every command, asking him if they can please call him daddy during fucking.
He never met any resistance. He never met any challenge. One look from him and the girls were practically on their backs with their legs spread like some animal in heat.
No one ever talked to him the way you did. Or looked at him that way. As if he is worthless trash in your eyes. Your words resonate in his brain. "You dirty, good-for-nothing slut."
Fuck! It turns him on. It makes him achingly hard even now. He turns onto his back and shoves a hand into his pants. He jerks off so furiously that his wrist hurts, making a huge mess all over himself when he cums to the thought of you calling him a useless brat.
Sukuna isn't the same man he was 24 hours ago.
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He totally doesn't look for you on campus on Monday morning. It is totally a coincidence that he slides up to you when you pull out a package of strawberry bubble gum from the vending machine. It's definitely not like he followed you around like a puppy for a whole hour until he finally got his shit together and decided to approach you.
"Strawberry flavor, huh? Wouldn't have thought that a foul person like you would pick such a sweet flavor."
You eye him lazily, eyes never leaving his as you tear open the packaging and put one of the pastel pink bubble gums into your mouth before you grace him with a reply.
"Oh, shut up. An attitude like that doesn't fit a pretty boy like you. Learn to behave, and then we can talk again."
Sukuna feels his lips lift in his trademark smirk as that weird, exhilarating sensation fills his veins again. He is enjoying himself far too much. He braces himself against the vending machine, his large hands on both sides of your face, caging you in, towering over you, while he smirks down at you.
But you don't seem intimidated at all by his height and muscular figure and the tattoos on his face. Instead, you smile at him and cock your head to the side, eyeing him expectantly as if you are waiting for him to do something.
He leans down, bringing his face closer to yours.
"Can I have a gum too? Please? See, I can behave very well."
His voice has dropped to his usual flirty, seductive tone, which he always uses on girls. The tone that always drives them crazy and makes them drop their panties faster than they can say his name.
You flutter your lashes exaggeratedly at him, smiling a sickeningly fake angelic smile as you open your mouth and pull out your gum.
"Ok, you can have one since you asked so politely. Open up, slut."
He laughs when you push the used gum to his lips, but Sukuna isn't one to back down, so he grabs your small hand, wraps his tattooed hand around your wrist, and opens his mouth. He licks your fingers, lets his tongue-piercing glide over your fingertips, and sucks the used bubble gum into his mouth.
You gaze deeply into his eyes, looking amused.
"You didn't even say thank you, Sukuna. You are still such a useless and rude brat."
You turn on your heel and leave him standing there like some rejected loser, and he chews the gum that tastes like strawberry and your spit and feels his cock twitch against his sweatpants.
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Sukuna sees you again on Saturday at another party. Two girls danced with him and asked him if he wanted to fuck them both upstairs in one of the bedrooms, but he turned them down, not even able to grasp why.
Until he walks into the kitchen and sees you. And suddenly, things fall into place.
Why bother with those random girls when the one he really wants is you? You are the only one who poses a challenge. The only one who makes his skin tingle with excitement. The only one who makes him feel like he is still alive and not some fucking ghost.
He leans against the fridge and watches you while he lights a cigarette. He smokes it in silence, just smirking at you and hoping you will come over and call him a slut again. Or any other degrading name you can think of. Sukuna isn't picky.
You walk over to him, a few drags into his cigarette, and stop in front of him, so close that he can smell your sweet perfume again. And you smile that smile that isn't sweet at all as you reach up and take the cigarette from Sukuna's lips. Your eyes never leave his as you bring his half-smoked cigarette to your mouth, wrapping your lips with the red lipstick around the filter right where Sukuna's lips were a moment ago, and the sight is so sexy to him that Sukuna has to bite his lip not to moan.
You take a deep drag, and your eyes close for a moment as the nicotine fills your senses before they open again to gaze up at Sukuna through your long lashes, grinning as you slowly blow the smoke right into Sukuna's face.
He laughs, pushing himself off the fridge, stepping closer to you, so close that his hips brush against you,
"You know what that means, right princess? Blowing smoke in someone's face?"
"Who doesn't know that?"
You roll your eyes and look at him as if he is stupid, and he can't help but place his large hands on your waist and drawl in his best bedroom voice,
"So, you admit you want to fuck me?"
You smirk back at him as you push his hands off your waist, sounding dismissive when you shrug and say,
"You have a pretty face and a good body. And I am horny right now. So why not? And you are probably a good fuck, with all that practice you had."
"What makes you so sure I want to fuck you?"
"Oh, don't be silly. You won't say no. A slut like you never does. Everyone knows you are easy."
Sukuna doesn't bother telling you that he just turned down two hot chicks half an hour ago. He lets you grab his hand and pull him along, and he follows you with a broad smirk on his tattooed face.
His cock is already pressing against his jeans when his crotch brushes over your ass when you pull him up the stairs. His mind is hazy, thoughts clouded over by lust, finally feeling that sweet, exciting buzzing again that he missed so much.
You pull him into one of the bedrooms, yank off his t-shirt, and push him onto the bed. Or you try to. You push against his broad chest, not able to move him an inch, but he plays along and lets himself fall onto the bed, looking up at you with heavy-lidded maroon eyes and his throbbing erection leaking pre-cum into his pants like some pathetic little virgin before his first fuck.
Sukuna licks his lips when he watches you reach under your skirt and take off your panties. That's the only thing you take off before you join him on the bed, straddling his thighs, making him smirk at you like the devil that he is,
"So eager to get my cock inside you that you can't even be bothered to get naked, princess?"
"Shut up, slut. Good boys don't talk unless I allow it."
Your little hands are on his belt, opening it, unbuttoning his jeans, and pulling down the zipper, making Sukuna's hips twitch when your hand rubs over his boxer-clad erection. He knows he is acting pathetic right now, cock so eager, already staining the fabric of his boxer briefs with a ridiculously huge amount of pre-cum. But fuck it, he is finally turned on again, finally excited to fuck again after all those months of feeling bored.
He pushes his hard cock against your hand, but you pull away again, smiling that devilish smile at him as you crawl on top of him.
Sukuna laughs breathlessly when you hover above his face, letting him know what you want from him. His large hands reach out to run slowly up the back of your thighs before they cup your ass cheeks, and he pulls you down onto his face.
He groans when your hot wet pussy settles on his tattooed face. Fuck, he always heard his brother go on and on about how hot he finds it when a girl sits on his face with a skirt and no panties. Sukuna had never found it so fascinating until now. Until it is you, and you tell him in that emotionless voice,
"Get to work, my little slut. If you make me squirt, you will get a reward."
He turns his face and moans against your inner thigh, leaving a kiss there,
"And what will my reward be?"
"I'll allow you to cum."
Allow him to cum?
Fuck. The words alone make Sukuna throb in his boxer briefs, another pearl of pre-cum leaking out of him.
"Then stop acting like a squeamish virgin and sit on my face for real."
"I told you to shut up, brat."
"Then shut me up with your pussy."
Sukuna grabs your ass cheeks tightly and pulls you down further, making you sit on his face for real. He isn't just a good fuck. He is the best fuck, and he will prove it to you!
He sucks your little swollen clit into his mouth and laughs when you gasp loudly. You grab his hair, tugging on it, making him groan as the slightly painful sensation goes directly to his throbbing cock. And he spoils your pussy like the slut that he is. Teases your clit with the stiff tip of his tongue and pushes the metal ball of his tongue piercing under the hood of your clit until you tremble and moan loudly.
He gets really into it, fucks you with his tongue and sucks savagely on your clit, eats you so good that it only takes a few minutes until you let out a high-pitched squeal and buck wildly against his face.
Hot, sticky liquid gushes over his lips, and you rock against him, voice breathless but still so stern,
"Open your eyes. Watch me cum all over your pretty face. Yeah, take it all, you little slut. Drink it all up."
Sukuna's eyes meet yours, and he moans, and his hips buck involuntarily, cock so desperate that he is rutting against thin air while pulsing pre into his boxer briefs.
He drinks you up, pushes his pierced tongue deeply into your twitching pussy, and licks it all up, basking in the way you mewl his name for a split second before you regain control and run a hand through his tousled pink hair, smoothing it down again,
"You are a good little fucktoy, Sukuna. Well done."
Sukuna's cock throbs at your words, and he blinks in surprise. Ok, so it's not just degradation that gets him excited, but also praise? Well, he is so fucked. So thoroughly fucked, and he loves every second of it!
You climb off his face, kneeling on the bed beside him, and let your small hands trail down Sukuna's defined pecs and his taut abs, following his tattoos down to the hem of his boxer briefs.
"You have such a nice body, Sukuna. The perfect little fucktoy. And what about that pretty cock? Is he perfect too, hm?"
A breathy gasp falls from his lips when you run a single finger over the thick bulge in his boxer briefs, slowly running up and down his whole throbbing length. Just a light, teasing touch, but it makes his vision blurry and pulls a desperate-sounding whine from his mouth.
It's so fucking humiliating. He's making such pathetic noises. But he simply can't bring himself to care. Not when he finally feels alive again when he is with you. His low voice is thick with need when he whispers,
"You said you would make me cum."
"Uh uh, I didn't say I would make you cum, sweetheart. I said I will allow you to cum. Let's see how things will go. Let's see how excited my little fucktoy will get. Don't forget what you are here for, Sukuna, baby. You are in this bed to serve me."
"Fuck..."
It takes all of Sukuna's willpower to not shove a hand into his boxer briefs and relieve that fucking pressure.
You straddle him again, sit on his abs this time, rubbing yourself on them, making him gasp when he feels how wet and hot your pussy is and how you spread your cream all over him. It's sexy. Nasty, just as he likes it.
Sukuna can see your face now, and it makes his chest fill with elation when he sees the fucked out expression on your face as you slide over his firm abs, rubbing your little clit against his hard muscles, your eyes closing and lips hanging open dumbly when you moan so sweetly and twitch on his stomach, reaching another orgasm on him.
He could sneak a hand behind you, could jack off behind your back, but he doesn't do it. He wants to be your good little toy.
You don't stop but keep rutting against him, your fingernails digging into the swell of Sukuna's pecs, leaving their crescent-moon-shaped marks there as you abuse your puffy clit further on his abs.
And Sukuna grabs your hips and helps you ride his abs, grinning as he hears your harsh breathing and feels you starting to tense up again. Another loud squeal tumbles out of your mouth, and Sukuna is about to taunt you for being so horny for him that you cum on him three times in a row when he feels something hot and wet on his abs, much more than during your other two orgasms.
You hum and grind against him as more wetness flows out of you and onto Sukuna's stomach, warm and sweet-smelling, and Sukuna's gaze snaps to yours in understanding.
You laugh and rub yourself against him, smiling that devilish smile as you pee on him. And he can't hold back the loud moan falling from his lips, can't stop his cock from twitching, almost cumming in his boxer briefs.
"You like that, you fucking pervert? Yeah, Sukuna? You like getting peed on? Well, I have more for you, my nasty boy."
You slide off him, hands grabbing his boxer briefs and pulling them down, finally freeing his aching cock. Sukuna groans when it springs up, bouncing lightly, rock-hard, pre-cum dripping down from it onto his abs.
You throw one leg over his thighs, kneeling over his stiff cock, and then more piss rains down from your hot cunt and onto Sukuna's cock.
And Sukuna moans and curses loudly as his back arches off the bed, and he cums all over himself, untouched, shooting hot ropes of cum out of his tip, all over his abs, and over your cunt that's hovering above him.
His vision goes black for a moment, and his breath comes out in loud, harsh huffs, his whole body shaking from the intensity of his orgasm. He thinks he never came so hard in his life.
You laugh and finally sit down on Sukuna's twitching cock, letting it glide between your wet folds, making him buck against you. But you don't let him push inside you. You just rub your wet cunt slowly over his spent length, watching with an amused smile as you milk every last spurt of cum out of Sukuna while you let more pee trickle over his cock, mixing his cum with your piss.
Sukuna's heart is beating so fast that he feels lightheaded. And the overstimulation makes him sob, makes his oversensitive cock ache and twitch, but oh, how he craves this sweet pain. He lets his head fall back on the pillow, letting more low moans spill from his lips, eyes closing as he pushes his slowly softening cock between your pussy lips, whimpering softly anytime that delicious pain pulses in his length.
He doesn't know how long it takes before you stop moving on him and slip off his lap. But he sighs when the sticky heat of your cunt leaves his cock.
The bed creaks as you crawl up to him to press a gentle kiss to his cheek, whispering in his ear,
"You are such a mess, Sukuna. Such a cute mess for me. I'm excited to see what else you can give me, my little fuckdoll."
You leave him lying there on top of the blanket, his cock pulsing hotly from the overstimulation, mind hazy with post-coital bliss, chest heaving with heavy breaths, skin sticky from his cum, and your squirt and pee.
It's disgusting, and he should feel embarrassed, but he can't help but moan softly as a small smile creeps over his face. Sukuna feels satisfied like he hasn't felt in months. He hopes you will use him again as your personal fucktoy very soon.
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FUCKTOY SUKUNA, I WANT YOU 💗💗 I wrote the first draft of this story a while ago and then thought I wouldn't dare publish it because it's too nasty, but I changed my mind, lol. I hope it was ok and that my fellow sub!Sukuna enjoyers accept this treat ;)
There will be a second part!! The story got too long, and there would have been too many sex scenes, so I decided to split it.
Thank you so much for reading 💗 Reblogs and comments would be very sweet!
HERE IS PART 02
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