#the fact that sex saved the day…… much to think about | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

celiababy · 3 months ago

Note

already in love w ur page! i would love to see dads bestfriend joel from you!!

hi! thank u sm!! and ofc coming right up on a very hot and steamy platter 😛

Not Your Daddy

Pairing: Pre-outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: You're back from your first year at college. You've changed and Joel is quick to notice.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, age gap (36/19), swearing, p in v, size kink, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (fem!recieving) no Sarah, alcohol

Celia's note: Heres jus a lil something :) (not proofread sorry) also part 3 of ain't right is coming so so soon I promise!!

Joel Miller and your father were good friends.

When you and your dad moved in next door a little over three years ago, they hit it off quickly. Their tendency to take on random jobs for cash is what bonded them. Also sports.

You were shy then, never able to hold eye contact and always avoiding him whenever he was around.

But thankfully, you've grown into a woman. Your first year at college changed you.

Now, you were back for the summer, eager to sleep in your own bed and spend time with your home-town friends.

But honestly, you were most excited to see Joel.

You wanted him to see how much you've grown. See how mature you've become, how confident.

You always had a little crush on him—mostly because he was the kindest out of all your dad's friends.

You also wanted him to be the one to pop your cherry.

You were a virgin, and kinda always fantasized about Joel being the one to take it from you.

Sure, you’ve done some stuff with guys, but never gone all the way. You were saving that for him.

You knew it wouldn't take long until he made an appearance.

Your dad had offered to host a small get-together to celebrate you being back. He would barbecue in the backyard and hold bets for the basketball game.

It was really just an excuse for him to break out the grill and gamble, but you didn't care. Only because you knew Joel would be there.

You even put on your shortest white sundress and blew out your hair for the occasion.

Your body was buzzing with the idea of seeing him again.

You wondered if he had changed at all.

Your mind started spiraling at the thought.

What if he had changed? What if he was dating someone now? What if he was engaged?

You glanced in the mirror at your nearly perfect reflection and suddenly felt so silly. What if this was all for nothing?

You didn't have long to ponder that thought because the doorbell rings.

You peak out your window and see Joel's truck in the driveway.

Your dad answers the door downstairs, the faint murmur of voices distracting your ears.

The anticipation was gnawing at you like a hungry dog.

After collecting your nerves, you slowly descend the stairs to meet them in the kitchen.

The loud cussing gave away their location. "You've lost your damn mind if you think there's a chance in hell the Privateers of all fucking teams are gonna beat—oh, hey darlin'," Your dad greets you, clearing his throat like he wasn't just cussing out Joel.

His back is to you, but when he turns around, your heart fucking ignites.

He's just as handsome as the day you left. He looks momentarily stunned by you, his eyes flickering all over your figure. God—how was it possible for someone to change so much? You looked more than amazing.

He immediately feels ashamed for basically checking you out in front of your dad, his eyes snapping back up to your face.

"Christ kid, they feedin' you up there at A&M?" He teases before stepping in for a hug.

He even smells the same as he did all those months ago, pine and smoke. You feel relieved.

It seems like the only thing thats different about him is a few gray hairs.

"Hey Joel," you greet with a giddy smile, hugging him back and relishing in his warmth. "How are you?"

Joel is very surprised. He almost doesn't recognize you. You're so much more...more.

"M'alright, aside from the fact that your dad's gonna give me a fuckin' aneurysm one of these days."

You laugh and shake your head. "Fighting about the game tonight?"

"Yeah, this fuckin' asshat thinks the longhorns might lose tonight—messin' up the whole fuckin' mojo," Your dad rambles, his voice beginning to raise before the doorbell rings again. "I'll get that, need to get away from this traitor." He snorts before heading to the door and leaving you both alone.

Joel rolls his eyes before landing his gaze back onto you and your cute little sundress. He crosses his arms over his chest and turns to face you with his body.

"You behavin' up there at school?" He asks light-heartedly, though you find it excruciatingly hard not to reply in some suggestive way.

"Mhm," You hum unconvincingly with a charmingly guilty smile, holding back a laugh.

Joel cocks a brow, pretending to look at you judgmentally. "Lyin’ is a sin, y’know." He huffs, a smile creeping on his lips.

“I’ve been good, just a lotta temptations s’all..” You murmur softly, your body naturally drifting closer to Joel by swaying on your feet.

The tension in the room is palpable.

“Oh yeah?” He tilts his head the tiniest bit to the side, his voice dropping what seemed like several octaves.

In fear of your voice cracking when giving a verbal response, you opt for a nod of your head, but then shrug just to tease him.

He glares at you but then scoffs, shaking his head.

"When'd you become such a little shit-stirrer, huh?" He chides, reaching over to ruffle the top of your hair.

You laugh before pushing his hand away, your fingers lingering on his wrist for longer than it needed to.

His skin is warm, he's almost hot to the touch. You're having a very hard time tearing your eyes away from his face.

All the sudden, your father calls you into the other room.

"Get in here! Max and Ruby wanna hear about your classes." Max and Ruby being your neighbors who had undoubtedly stopped by for the party.

You peer up at Joel, your eyes almost begging him to ask you to stay. But instead, he gestures with his head for you to listen to your dad.

"Go on now," He husks out, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

Reluctantly you leave him behind in the kitchen, your body still whirring with the adrenaline high you got from just talking to him.

***

It was nice seeing everyone that stopped by for the party. You hadn't realized how much you missed your people.

But Joel was making it hard to concentrate on conversation when you guys were playing eye-tag the entire night.

He really couldn't help himself. There was just something so magnetic about you now—it was impossible to tear his eyes away.

He watched you talk to some of your high school friends, then get up to fetch something from the kitchen.

He couldn’t stop his gaze from falling to your ass once you turned around, his cock twitching in his pants because of the way your dress taunts him with its length.

He clears his throat.

Fuck was he thinking.

This was you he was ogling for christ sake. His best friends daughter.

These thoughts were not allowed. He needed to shut this down.

But the night goes on anyway, people getting more drunk and rowdy with each passing second.

Especially your father, who was currently in a screaming match with his work buddy about the game. They're all crowded around the small box tv in the kitchen, intently watching the tiny screen.

You're watching them from afar, amused by your father and the absurdity of it all.

"Ah fuck, we're outta ice," your dad groans, lifting up the empty bowl in annoyance. "Alright, one of you sons of bitches needs'ta make an ice run, m'not missing this game."

Joel groans out, dragging his hand down his jaw. "We're obviously gonna win—the team's up 46. Make the damn run yourself." He berates your father, who in turn just shakes his head and waves a dismissive hand at Joel.

"Every time I don't watch the game to completion, we fuckin' lose. M'staying riiiight here."

"Fuckin' superstitious bastard." Joel groans from under his breath, picking up his truck keys from the counter. "You want some more beer while I'm out? Maybe my liver too? God knows you need a new one, goddamn alcoholic."

You're laughing at them in the corner, finding their banter extremely amusing.

Then, you suddenly realize this might be your chance to spend more alone time with Joel.

You lurch forward, quickly blocking his path. "Can I come with?"

He looks down at you, a barely noticeable smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He's just about to reply to you before your drunk father cuts in.

"Ya, go with him, he can't carry the ice by himself or else his back’ll give out."

Joel turns his head to yell at your dad. "Shut your damn mouth," he barks, then turns back around to face you, placing his hand on your lower back. "'Course sweetheart, c'mon."

The drastic change in his voice when he talks to you versus your father makes your heart flutter.

He guides you outside to his truck, only dropping his arm from your back when he opens the passenger door for you.

Hopping inside, you settle yourself into the worn down bench seat. Your eyes follow him as he rounds the front of the vehicle, swinging open the driver side door and cranking the engine.

His old country music starts blaring from the speakers of the car, accompanied by the loud drum of his engine.

He’s quick to whip out of the driveway, steering with one muscular arm on the wheel.

You want to drool at the sight—you know your other lips most certainly are.

"So, you got a boyfriend up there at school?" He asks after clearing his throat.

He wants to subtly test the waters, whether he knows it now or not.

You smile, the thought of dating any guy besides Joel was laughable.

"Nope. They're all kinda gross."

"Gross? Yeah, well, most guys your age are." He mumbles, thinking back to his late teens, early twenties—Yikes.

"What about you? Got a woman yet?" You ask, following his line of questioning.

Joel scoffs, keeping his eyes trained on the road. “Does it look like I got a woman in my life?”

He looks down at himself for a second to get his point across, making you follow his gaze.

His wrinkly navy shirt had paint stains on it, his jeans were so old, they looked one wash away from disintegrating, and his beard needed a trim.

You try to stifle your giggle by turning your head away. “Yeah, guess not.”

Your mind starts wandering off, imagining what being Joel's woman would look like...having dinner together...sharing a bed...showering together...

God you wanted to be his girl so bad.

You hear yourself speaking before you even know what you’re saying. “Maybe I can help you—y'know, find a woman n’all.”

Joel casts you an assessing glance, cocking his eyebrow.

“Oh yeah? N’how would you do that?”

He doesn’t even mean to sound sexy but the way he talks makes you wanna melt.

“Well, for starters, a haircut might do you some good.” You tease, scooting closer to him on the bench seat to fiddle with the overgrown hair by his neck.

The way your body is turned to face him gives Joel a clear view down the front of your dress, the skin of your breasts making his cock twitch.

“What’re you talkin’ about? My hair looks great.” Joel knows he’s lying, but he just wants to see you laugh.

Which you do. “Yea, maybe to a blind chick.”

“Oh, you got jokes, huh?” Joel chides, using his free hand to come up and playfully tug at your hair.

You erupt in giggles, swatting his hand away while simultaneously trying to tug his hair back.

Eventually, you two stop messing with each other, but you reiterate that you're serious.

"I mean it—it’d be super fun giving you a make-over."

Joel pulls into the gas station and shifts his truck into park.

"You've lost your damn mind if you think I'm gonna let you get anywhere near my head with clippers."

You roll your eyes and giggle, following him out of the vehicle.

"C'monnn, it'll be fun!" You squeal, trailing behind him as he walks into the store, the bell chiming as you both enter.

He pretends to ignore you, walking along the isles to the freezer section.

"I'll be super careful," You muse, snagging a bag of skittles from off one of the shelves before he can notice.

“I promise I won’t fuck up your cut.” You joke, laughing at yourself.

“Hey—watch it.” Joel warns when hearing your profanity, snapping back to look at you, only half-joking.

You roll your eyes—it's ironic coming from him who cusses like a sailor. You brush past him as he opens the freezer, letting your back lean against one of the glass doors, facing him.

"You're not my daddy, y'know. Can't tell me what to do." You purr, a shit-eating grin beginning to form on your perfect face.

Joel feels his blood pressure spike.

You're making this impossible for him and you know it.

His body moves for him before he can stop himself.

After he grabs two ice bags, he closes the freezer and subsequently steps closer to you, popping your personal space bubble.

"You're right. M'not your daddy." He husks, looking down at you and your parted lips. Your chests are centimeters away from each other, and you find yourself holding your breath. “Consider yourself lucky.”

The way he’s looking down at you like prey yet speaking so nonchalantly has your brain spinning. There was definitely an underlying threat in his words.

Before you can respond, he’s turned around and walking up to the register, throwing down a 10 dollar bill and telling the cashier to keep the change.

Science can’t explain the drastic acceleration your heart rate just experienced—but you can.

Joel fucking Miller.

He had to be insinuating something, right?

Your face is hot and so is the rest of your body, stumbling to catch up with him as he walks out the store.

He lugs the ice into his trunk like nothing happened, the tension in his muscles catching your eyes.

Yet, he still comes around to the passenger side, opening the door for you.

Now was your chance to get him back.

You lift yourself up in the truck, purposefully climbing into the bench seat in a way that gave Joel a clear view of your ass—as well as your thong that wasn't really covering much.

His hand clamps down so hard on the car handle that it nearly crumbles under his grip.

You hear him clear his throat before the door slams shut next to you, making you jump a bit.

When he passes in the front windshield, he's shaking his head and dragging a hand down his scruffy jaw. You can't help but giggle at his exasperated expression.

His takes longer to get into the car and start things up this time, trying real hard not to meet your instense gaze.

When he refuses to make eye contact, you huff out a breath and rip open your skittles bag.

This catches Joel's attention.

"You pay for that?"

"...sure." You murmur unconvincingly with a shrug, trying not to smile. "Want some?"

He watches as you pop a few in your mouth, holding out the bag for him.

Begrungingly, he grumbles out a 'yeah' and holds out his palm.

***

The party had fizzled out when you guys returned. There were a few stranglers sitting around and chatting, but for the most part, things seemed to be dying down.

So much for the ice.

Your dad and his friends had migrated to the living room and once Joel put the bags away, he joined them.

He sat on the couch with a grunt, his legs immediately settling into the manspreading position.

You tried not to drool but your mouth was definitely salivating. To avoid moaning just at the sight of him, you head upstairs, the old wood boards creaking beneath your feet.

You don't see it, but Joel's got his eyes on you, following you with his gaze till you're out of sight.

He feels guilty thinking about how much he wants to fuck you when he's literally sitting right next to your father, but he can't help himself.

It's a while before you come back down, when you do, theres a razor in one hand, clippers in the other.

"No." Joel instantly says, shaking his head.

"Yes." You squeal, beaming down at him.

"Awh, go on Joel, you been needin' a clean up." Your dad chimes in, smacking his shoulder. His other buddies encourage it until he has no choice than to give in just so everyone would shut up.

"Fine—fine. Y'all gon' get yours, thats for damn sure." Joel grumbles, stomping up the stairs.

You're laughing all the way up, bubbling with excitement.

"Come down and give us the reveal when you're done!" Your dad screams to which you giggle.

You basically shove Joel into your bathroom, pulling in a stool for him to sit on.

"You better know what yer doin'." He grunts, sitting down on the stool and looking at you with weary eyes.

"Anything I do to you would look better than what you have now."

Joel promptly stands back up when hearing your words, trying to walk away, but you grab onto his arm. "I'm kidding, I’m kidding! I promise I'll do a good job."

You press on his shoulders to sit him down again, your throat running dry when you see the way he’s glaring up at you.

He’s not actually angry—just a bit peeved that he doesn’t have enough self control to stop thinking about fucking you against the bathroom sink.

You start working, none the wiser, bringing the electric razor to his jaw.

Your bodies are close, Joel can smell your delicious perfume and it makes him wanna eat you up.

You start to notice how sometimes his eyes will flicker to your chest, before abrupdtly looking away and clearing his throat.

Your boobs did look great in this dress, maybe you should give him a better view...

The devilish thought pops in your brain and you're acting it out before you know it.

You set the razor down and grab the clippers, stepping around to the front of his body. "May I?" You murmur, not even waiting for his answer before straddling his lap.

You sit on his thighs and Joel feels himself straighten like a board.

“Kid—what do you think yer doin’?” He immediately sputters out, his expression stern.

He’s trying so hard not to look down at where your dress had ridden up from straddling him. He can almost see your cunt, for christ sake.

“Nothin’.” You murmur, bringing your shaking hand up to trim the hair on his jaw. You curse at yourself for not even having the wits to keep calm, you just know your flushed fave is giving you away.

“Nothin’, huh?” Joel reiterates, completely unbelieving as his eyes drag down your body slowly.

Then, everything shifts.

There’s something more assertive in Joel’s demeanor that you can’t quite put your finger on, but you know it’s there.

You feel his calloused hand on your thigh, your body erupting in goosebumps when he travels it up dangerously high. Using his other hand, he grips your wrist, pulling it down and away from his face.

“Doesn’t look like nothin’ to me.” His voice is a low murmur.

You’re both locked in eye contact now, hearts beating in sync.

He hears your breath hitch and sees how your eyes are flashing between his gaze and lips. He knows what you’re after—he’s just not sure if he wants to give in yet.

You, on the other hand, are dying of anticipation. He’s not budging, so you’re left to drag your hips up his lap and press down on the bulge in his pants.

"Girl—" He growls out before his hands come up to stop your waist from moving any further. "You don't know what your doin'."

"Do I have to fucking spell it out for you, Joel?" You rush out, dropping the scissors and latching onto his shoulders. You're panting and your face is pink, a needy/irritated expression woven into your features.

He feels your nails digging into his shoulder blades and sees that desperate look in your eyes—he's done for.

"No, I won't make ya do that f'me, sweet heart." He murmurs before abruptly picking you up from under your thighs.

A squeak of surprise leaves your lips at his effortless display of strength. You swallow your nerves after he sets you down on the counter, lodging himself between your legs.

"But I am gon make you say it."

Is he teasing you?

No, his face looks too serious for him to be teasing.

Oh, maybe he just wants clear clarification.

Your heart swells at his consideration.

Sucking in a deep breath, "I want your dick in my vagina." You giggle out, knowing he was probably expecting sexier wording. Joel smirks, crashing his forehead against yours.

"Yeah? S'that what you want?"

You're nodding against him, smiling wide because you just admitted something that you never thought you would.

"N'have you done that before? Y'know, dick in vagina." He copies your candance, but you stop smiling.

Out of all the fucking questions, that was the one that you didn't want to be asked the most.

You had hoped if you came on strong and flirted like you had done it a million times, he would've just assumed you weren't a virgin.

But the bastard always had to be so careful.

You didn't want him to know because you figured it would turn him off—then all you'd become is his best friend’s daughter all over again.

You knew if you lied he would just sniff it out anyway, but you tried nonetheless.

"...Yea. Couple times."

You watch as Joel's face forms into a 'yea right' kind of expression before he sighs out.

"Why'a lyin' to me, kid?"

You groan, throwing your head back and hitting the mirror with the back of your skull.

"Thats why—I don't want you thinking I'm a kid anymore. M'not. I'm grown. I'm grown and I want..your dick in my vagina."

He scoffs, dragging a hand down in jaw in disbelief. "Lyin' ain’t a good way to show me your grown."

He was right. You hated that he was right.

Your face crumbles because you think you just ruined this whole thing. Yet, Joel's hands come up to cup your face, holding them there a moment before they drift down to rest on your neck.

"S'alright, you're alright. M'not mad at'cha." He reassures, making sure you're looking in his eyes before he continues. "M'flattered sweetheart, I really am but-"

"Please don't say some bullshit like you don't think you're the man for this job because trust me when I say this Joel, you're the only guy I've ever wanted to be with."

You gush out, your mouth a leaky faucet. But Joel still looks conflicted.

You figured now would be a good time to bring out the big guns.

"If you won't do it cus I'm a virgin, I'll just have sex with the first guy I see, how about that?"

Joel's eyes darken and his jaw clenches. Now you've just pissed him off. "Don't manipulate me like that." He says sternly, to which you immediately falter in your confidence.

"I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that. I didn't mean it." You shake your head at yourself, biting down on your bottom lip. Joel sighs, leaning back but still keeping himself between your legs.

"Look," you start up again, bringing your hand down to hold his muscular bicep. "I've wanted to do this with you for so long. I really want it to be with you. Even if it's just one time, that's okay. Just need you in some way—Joel."

Your voice tapers off into a whisper because his stare intimidates you.

He exhales through his nose before running a hand through his hair and fixing his back to stand up straighter.

"Alright." He huffs, his face looking like he just surrendered in war.

"Alright?" You repeat, hopes high.

"I'll do it," He removes himself from between your legs and slides his grip down to your thighs. "But not right now."

Your heart drops.

"Why not?" You whine like a kicked puppy.

He brings one hand up to pinch your cheek. "Cus your daddy's down stairs, m'not a fuckin' monster." He grumbles before letting go and starting to walk out, but you grab him.

"Fine, but can we at least.." You hop down off the counter and pull him back, kissing him abruptly.

It starts slowly at first, you're both scoping out the scene, but then you get eager.

A tongue slips into his mouth and he returns the favor, his hands finding themselfs back on your hips.

In no time, he has your back up against the wall while he devours your mouth like a man starved. And just as his hand starts sliding up your dress and he's about to go back on his word, a voice comes from downstairs.

"C'mon down Joel, we wanna see the new cut!"

You groan as Joel slips from you, walking back downstairs while wiping his jaw and adjusting the boner in his pants. *** Now it was a waiting game.

Everyone but your dad's friends had left the party; they were just sitting around, watching TV and drinking beers.

You and Joel can't stop making eye contact from the opposite ends of the room. It was like torture not being able to fuck him immediately.

You're quick to conjure up a plan, though.

"Hey dad," you start, twirling a loose thread from your dress around your finger.

"Ya?"

"Didn't they reopen Chambers, like, two weeks ago?" You ask, trying to keep your voice as inconspicuous as possible.

Chambers was the local bar that your dad and his buddies loved to go to. You were just trying to plant a seed.

"Mm, yea, I reckon they did." He sighs out, eyes glued to the TV.

"S'been awhile since we've been there." One of his friends chime in.

"We should go grab a few drinks—I've missed picking up broads from there.." Another friend says, to which your dad promptly hits his arm because he doesn't like that kind of talk when you're present.

Nevertheless, he casts you a questioning glance. "You gon' be alright if we go?"

You try so hard to mask your instant glee. "Oh yeah, I'll be fine! Y'all go n' have fun."

"Alright punkin," They all stand, gathering up their wallets and keys—everyone except Joel. "You comin'?" Your dad asks him.

You glare at him to make sure he understands what you're trying to do.

Joel inhales through his nose before sighing out with a smile. "M'gonna call it a night, boys."

Thank god.

They all grunt and groan in protest, but eventually everyone filters out of the house.

You stand in the door jam and watch as your dad and his buddies file into the car, Joel standing on the porch to wave them off. Words are exchanged between everyone, mostly cussing, as they make their depature.

You both watch as they leave the culdesac, even waiting until you couldn't hear the car engine in the distance before looking at Joel.

Your breath catches in your throat when he turns around to look at you, folding his arms over his chest.

"Sly work." He murmurs, walking forward and forcing you to walk back into the house.

You're not sure why you're so nervous all the sudden.

Because you were pretending to be bold and experienced before, you had no choice but to mask your nerves. Now, that Joel knows the truth, you feel...vulnerable. But in the best way possible.

He backs you into the house before closing the door behind him, his head hanging to look at the ground.

"I had to get you alone somehow." You murmur with a shrug of your shoulders.

It was the truth.

You hear Joel chuckle and watch as he brings his head up to look at you. He's assessing you.

A beat of silence washes over you both.

"You said you would, Joel." You try to say sternly, although your voice wavers because you're scared he might've changed his mind.

"I know what I said." He steps closer, your torso's centimeters apart.

The eye contact is heavy—it feels like an avail against you. But you love it—love him. You're holding back from jumping his bones right by the front door.

"Good." You practically whisper, slowly taking his large hand in yours. You wait until he interwines your fingers before turning around and guiding him up the stairs.

Every creak under his and your feet sounds deafening in the silence between you both.

His hand is sweating, but so is yours.

When you make it to your bedroom, you walk inside and sit on the edge of your bed, gazing up at him.

"How many women have you slept with?" You hear yourself blurt before you can stop yourself.

His lips tighten into a line before he sits down next to you. Your sides are touching, his hands are resting on his knees.

"A few." He grunts, turning to face you. "Lot of 'em forgettable. But this," he gestures between the two of you. "ain't no comin' back from this, you hear me?"

You nod, your hand slipping over his knee. You're trying to trail it higher up his thigh, but he stops you with his hand.

"Need to make sure you know that before we do this. Don't want you regrettin' it later-"

"I won't." You say curtly, only because you know with complete certaintly that there was no way you'd ever regret this.

Everything is still for a moment, the only sound in the room is the both of your breathing. He's staring at you so hard, just waiting for even a hint of hesitation.

But it never comes.

In one swift movement, Joel's lips are on yours, pushing you back into the mattress and settling on top of you.

It makes you dizzy how effortlessly he's making out with you now.

He slots himself between your thighs and you moan at the feeling.

It's embarrassing how little he had to do in order to get you off.

But it's Joel, for christsake—he could just stand there and you'd probably find a way to orgasm at least twice.

It feels like he's engulfing you entirely; his musuclar arms wrapped around you, tongue down your throat, chests pressed together—pure bliss.

Suddenly and devastatingly, he breaks away for just a moment. "Sit up." He husks, to which you immediately oblige.

He lifts your dress up and off, momentairly stunned by the sight of your bare breasts.

"Christ, you're unreal." He groans before latching his mouth onto one of your nipples, using his hand to grope the other one.

You're a mess of moans, but you manage to speak in between. "Take your clothes off too," you whine, pawing at his shirt.

Joel grumbles, taking his time. He strips his shirt off and your hands are quick to latch onto his belt, fumbling with the leather strap but eventually yanking it out of the loops.

His hands come out to steady yours. "Slow down, no rush." He purrs in his texan drawl, making you shiver.

You groan out in frustration, letting your back fall down against the bed again. "You gonna make me wait all summer?"

"If you keep bein' a brat, then maybe." Joel huffs, yanking you back by the legs so he can pull your thong off. He dangles the stringy piece of fabric by his finger, looking at it assessingly.

"Joel!" You squeal, embarrassed. He effortessly holds you down with one hand against your stomach, not letting you swat it away from him.

"This what you go 'round wearin'?" He teases, grinning sharply.

You shrug, all squrimy, prodding him with your legs. "Would it turn you on if I said I wore them for you?"

You almost don't notice when Joel stuffs your underwear into his back pocket because of how drawn you are to his eyes. He's looking at you like a man starved—you love it.

"You been plottin' on me, is that it?" His voice makes your wet hole clench around nothing. He's teasing, but you also feel like you've just been caught.

You definitely weren't as suave as you thought you were.

"Stop makin' fun of me. " You huff with a flustered face, narrowing your eyes at him.

Joel smirks, finally prying apart your legs and taking a good, long look at your dripping cunt. "Christ almightly..." He groans at the sight of you, his cock straining hard against his jeans. "Pretty lil thing."

Your back arches off the bed when you feel Joel's thumb brush against your folds, tantilizingly slow. "Nice n' wet, atta girl." He muses, spreading your lips apart with his fingers.

You wanted to make a joke about him inspecting you like some doctor, but the words died quickly on your tongue when you felt him stroke your clit.

"Joel," You moan, hips squirming impatiently. "Fuck, I need you,"

"You got me, babygirl," Joel murmurs before lowering his head and devouring your cunt completely.

His tongue laps at you with fever, primarily focusing on your aching clit. The sensation nearly makes you pass out, especially when he pushes a finger inside of your hole.

"Ohmygodohmygodohmygod," You whine, fisting the sheets so hard that your knuckles turn white.

Having someone eat you out and it being actually enjoyable is one thing, but having Joel Miller eat you out and it being amazing, was blowing your mind.

He didn't even take breathers.

Joel was consuming you like he didn't need air. Soon, you feel another finger stretch you open, then another, until Joel has three fingers smoothly pumping in and out of you.

It quickly becomes all too much for your little brain. "Hmph..fuck Joel m'gonna come," You whine, your hips staggering against his mouth.

He doesn't answer you, in fact, Joel just wraps his musclar arms tightly under your thighs, securing you in place. In this position, you were rendered completely immoveable.

He kept you right where he wanted you.

"Waitwait, shit, Joel," His tongue is relentless, drinking you up like he was dying of thirst in the desert. Tears are forming in the lining of your eyes, the stimulation overloading you.

"Fuck!" You cry, coming completely undone beneath him. Your entire body shakes with pleasure as you finish, thighs squeezing the sides of his head.

Joel laps you all the way through it, humming contentedly against your soaked cunt.

When your body goes limp against the bed, thats finally when Joel lifts his lips off you. His entire face down past his nose is drenched in your juices; the sight makes your stomach flutter.

"Holy fucking shit Joel," You whimper, out of breath, chest heaving up and down. "That was amazing."

Joel lands a couple soft warning pats against your cunt, making you flinch and squirm from overstimulation.

"You cuss like a sailor, y'know that?"

"S'hard not to when you're makin' me feel so good." You're mumbling, wiping at the tear streaks on your face with the back of your hand.

"Mm, I know," He hums in that caring tone, crawling on top of you and placing a few chaste kisses on your lips.

It doesn't take long for your libido to rise again, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and eagerly kissing him back.

You bring a hand down to palm at his boner, giggling into the kiss. He groans at the feeling, rutting his hips into your hand. "Fuck me now please," You say breathlessly into his ear, nipping and licking at his neck.

He scoffs at your enthusiasm.

Finally, Joel pulls his pants off, letting his cock spring free and slap against his stomach.

You're enamoured by the sight of it. Long in length, even bigger in girth. You practically start drooling.

"You got a starin' problem too." Joel grumbles, grabbing you by the jaw and tilting your head up so he can kiss you again.

You chuckle into his lips, breaking away for a moment to speak. "I can't help it. It's handsome..you're handsome." You muse, getting a fist around his cock, managing to stroke it a few times before Joel stops you.

You don't have time to think or argue before he turns you over onto your side, situating himself behind you.

He's spooning you, except his left arm is hooked around your chest and his right has your leg lifted up, allowing his cock to slip between your folds.

Once again, he's got you right where he wants you.

"Joel," You bring your hands up to hold onto his forearm, pushing your ass back into him. "Put it in." You all but demand, trying to desperately grind your cunt on him.

He tightens his grasp on your collarbone, pulling you tighter against his chest. "Keep your leg up baby," Joel mutters lowly in your ear, letting go of your leg to guide his cock to your entrance.

His fat tip prods against your willing hole, making you dizzy with need. He runs his fingers along your folds one last time, gathering up your slick and using it to lubricate his cock.

Your heart is beating a million miles per hour. The moment you had been dreaming of for so long was finally here.

Joel, taking your virginity—your prayers were answered.

Slowly, Joel starts inching his way inside, the stretch making you gasp.

It feels fine at first, just a dull ache, but then it hurts—bad.

You squeeze your eyes shut and grit your teeth, trying to push through the pain. However, your body clenches down on the intrusive appendage, causing Joel to groan out.

It feels good for him, but he's been around the block a few times to know what's happening.

"You okay? I need'a stop?" He asks in that raspy voice of his, to which you immediately shake your head.

"Nonono, god no, don't stop. Just—just ram it in." You say foolishly, making Joel scoff.

"No, sweetheart, as much as I want to—bad idea." He brings his hand back down between your legs, rubbing a few slow circles into your clit. "Just relax and open up for me, thaaaats it," He encourages in that tone that lights fires in your core.

The perfect stimulation on the bundle of nerves made you forget all about the pain, letting your hole ease up a bit.

He takes the oppurtunity to keep breaching you deeper, peppering kisses to your neck and back in the process. His fingers stay glued to your clit, and before you know it, he's half way inside.

Your holding onto him so hard that your nails are leaving imprints on his forearm.

But you're so full of him and it's perfect. You can feel every twitch, every notch, every vein; or maybe you're just convincing yourself you can. Either way, mewls and moans are slipping from your lips and feeding Joel's growing ego.

"You feelin' good sweetheart?" He rasps in your ear, thrusting back and forth till he reaches that half way mark. You nod frantically, craning your neck to face him, desperate for a kiss.

He satisfies your wishes, kissing you slowly and passionately, like everything you've ever wanted.

His dick in you, his tongue down your throat, his arms pinning you to him. Fuck.

But you still want more.

In a shocking move, you slam your hips back against him, burying him all the way inside.

Moans fill your little bedroom, both his and yours, and for a moment, a flash of regret hits you like a truck.

He's big, and it fucking hurts.

But once the initial pain subsides, it’s like ecstasy.

"Fuck—girl, what'd ya do that for?" Joel hisses, tensing up because he's trying not to come fast.

"Couldn't wait," you pant, tears spilling out the corners of your eyes. "Please move." You're pleading because being stationary is somehow even more painful. You squirm in Joel's strong grasp, trying to stop the ache between your legs.

He's no match for you.

In a gentle but swift motion, Joel situates himself on top of you, closing your thighs together and putting them on one side of his body—all while still inside of you.

He cages you in with his big strong arms, looking down at your needy expression as he gradually starts rocking his hips into you. You're twisting your torso to remain looking at him, clawing at his biceps with your nails.

"This how you like it?" He huffs out, the sweat evident on his brow. "Deep n' slow?"

You want to respond to him, but it's hard to because every other sound you make is a moan.

He's so deep and never fails to hit the one spot that just makes you melt.

Opting for a non-verbal response, you nod with fever, gyrating your hips to meet his thrusts.

He chuckles, the sound alone makes you wanna come.

His name slips from your lips like a prayer—Joel finds it so cute because when he hits deep, your voice raises in pitch.

But he's no better, he'd been groaning in your ear since the start of it. He really cant help it, your cunt is like a silky, wet vice molded perfectly for his cock.

Joel lifts one of your legs up to his chest, securing his muscular arm around your thigh to keep it there. He continues he's deep thrusts, only this time picking up rhythm. He also brings his other hand down to lazily rub circles in your clit.

Christ.

Your head lolls back and your eyes roll into the back of your head. The stimulation was insanely perfect and all too much at the same time.

Your body wracks with jolts and spasms—your body trying to cope with everything it's feeling. Joel takes notice, a proud and lopsided smile spreading across his face.

"M'gonna cum," You whine, your body writhing against him with each thrust.

Your pussy is clenching down on him with each piston of his hips, Joel is not far behind you.

He rubs your clit in a way that makes you come undone, your back arching up off the bed and your toes curling from pleasure.

At the same time, Joel picks up his pace, only to pull his cock from inside you and pump it a few times before unloading his seed onto your naked torso.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is the heavy breathing coming from the both of you. Joel's staring down at your pussy, entraced with the way your hole is constricting around nothing.

Then, he looks at your face. Your eyes are closed, your lips are parted, your chest is heaving up and down. He's admiring you and all your fucked-out glory.

He brings a hand up to your face, wiping off the tear stains with his thumb. "You alright?" He husks out, looking down at you assessingly.

"M'perfect." You coo, slowly opening your eyes and leaning up to kiss him. Joel returns it, loving the way your mouth opens so readily for him.

He'd have to try it out with his dick next time.

"Can we go again?" You murmur into his mouth, your arms wrapping around his shoulders.

Joel scoffs because he thinks you're kidding. You're not. When he realizes this, he shakes his head in disbelief, pushing you down onto the bed by your shoulders.

"Don't worry, we got all summer."

#anon ask #first request yay #dbf!joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #tlou fanfiction #the last of us hbo #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller #tlou fic #one shot #drabble

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runa-falls · 1 year ago

Text

what a mess~

pairing: miguel o'hara x reader cw: smut, established relationship, superhuman stamina, overstimulation, cum EVERYWHERE, 'use a condom, it's too messy X(', 'bitch stfu i'll show you messy'..., so many sheets, reader is a pushover (bc I WOULD BE TOO) wc: 1k + a/n: i um... just take this and I'll go to a corner of a room and think ab what I've done.

---

Having a superhero boyfriend is great – he gets you discounts at your favorite restaurant, he easily carries you home after a long night out at the bar, he saves you from getting kidnapped by his arch-nemesis for the fourth time this month (though isn’t that his fault in the first place?....) – but there are aspects of the relationship that you didn’t consider before.

Apparently, with great power comes great… stamina.

To put it plainly, Miguel’s (sex) drive is unheard of. You better clear out your schedule for the whole day because he can go for hours. And most nights, you can barely sit up after he fucks you.

You like that – or you did when you could afford to be sore every other day. You like how enthusiastic he is – how much he wants you. It makes you feel desired and beautiful. But it’s not just the intense workout you risk every time you steal a kiss that turns into more – it’s the number of times he can…finish.

Every time you think he’s finished, he’s still hard and thrusting into you, overstimulating you until black stars start to fill your vision.

It’s a mess in the end.

You lay on top of him, filled to the brim, dripping all over his lower stomach and onto the sheets under you, breathing so hard you’re sure you’d rupture a lung. You feel like you’re barely conscious on the bed as your heart beats harshly against your chest from how hard you came. Hair sticks graciously against your forehead as your eyes struggle to stay open to see Miguel, who gently pulls out and watches his mess spill out of you.

He whispers sweetly of how well you took him, how pretty you look all fucked out, how much he loves that he can turn you into a blabbering – mindless whore. Being the possessive man he is, he attempts to shove it back in, using two of his thick fingers to gather and push his essence back into you, hoping that, against all odds, it’ll take, despite the fact you take your birth control religiously.

Of course, when he sees how your thighs shake and squeeze around his hand from the overstimulation of him fucking his fingers into you after you just came, he immediately gets hard again.

He gazes down at you with apologetic red eyes as he bites his lip under a sharp fang, “I can’t help it when I see how wrecked your pussy is for me…”

It’s nice – it’s hot – but you end up having to change the sheets 5 times a week. He’s insatiable… well ok, you’re just as thirsty as your boyfriend, but the amount of maintenance you need for each session is ridiculous. You basically gave up washing your sheets after every fuck, and instead ordered several identical sets of bedding to make the process easier.

Many sheets have been destroyed beyond recognition. Okay, maybe you’re being a bit overdramatic, but the amount of cum-stained sheets in your linen closet is insane. How are you supposed to hide this if you were to have guests over?!

After staring at the layers of folded-up and stained sheets that you’ve accumulated over the past few months, you decided you were going to do something about it.

You can still have fun without the mess.

…right?

—

Miguel has you on your back at the end of the bed with your legs resting on the crook of his arms. You have on a cute little nightgown – white to symbolize purity (though what you were about to do was far from pure) – with nothing underneath. It was one you bought just to get a reaction out of him – and now you got it.

He holds you open for him, regarding you like he would a special gift – though there’s nothing to really celebrate (unless you count his raging erection). He breathes harshly against your neck as he paints your skin with kisses and nips. You’re nearly folded in half with how closely he’s pushed against you, but you can barely recognize the mere tinge of soreness in your legs with how fluidly pleasure seems to travel from his lips down to the apex of your thighs.

Miguel O’Hara, the strong, independent Spider-Man, is truly a mess in front of you. His once neatly ironed tie now hangs loosely around his neck, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned halfway down, and his hair a tangle of unruly curls. His fingers, now caressing your body, are already dripping in your slick from when he forced a couple of orgasms out of you right when he got home.

You find a sense of satisfaction in the disheveled state of his appearance, relishing how his once meticulously groomed demeanor has been disrupted – how his eyes transition from their usual chocolatey brown to a striking blood red, how his lips swell sweetly with lust.

Miguel groans deeply as he grinds his clothed hardness against your wet center, “Mm…I want you so bad.” He unbuttons and unzips his pants, sighing as he releases himself from the tight fabric. No underwear?

“Wait, Mig." he pauses his movements, waiting patiently – prepared to do whatever you want. “Get a condom.” …Except maybe…that.

“Condom?” He could barely hold back his sneer, but you could faintly hear the growl vibrate from his chest.

“Mhm, we’ve been too messy lately. We can’t just keep buying new sheets every week!”

“...We could…”

“Miguel!”

“I don’t see what the problem is… this is just how it is.”

“But it’s too messy.”

“I thought my baby likes to be filled up…”

“...I-I mean, I do sometimes, but –”

“Don’t you like it when I get you all messy?” He leans in close, distracting you from denying him. “Have you dripping with me for days?” He presses closer, and you can feel his hard cock slip against your wetness, dragging against your sensitive clit.

“Miguel.” You whine.

It’s so hard to deny this man.

“How about we just try to be more careful, hm?” He presses against you gently, nearly entering you, but not quite. It feels so good, the tip of him barely stretching past your entrance.

“Okay…j-just this once though…” You surrender with a whisper.

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara smut #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut

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lucidfairies · 27 days ago

Text

— mess around (part four)

part one • part two • part three

synopsis: it wasn't everyday you moved to the south, surrounded by cowboys and their women, but here you were, and your new neighbor simply couldn't get any more enticing

pairing: rancher!sevika x married housewife!reader

warnings: cheating, divorce, angsty but also lots of fluff, borderline abusive, husband throws a chair, threatens to kill r, r is not physically harmed in any way, baddie sevika saves the day, husband's life is threatened, Sevika shoots him, no smut, the L word is dropped 😫

a/n: this one's a vastly different from the others and if it includes things you're not comfy with, just know you get divorced !

wc: 2.4k

You were crying where you sat at your kitchen table. They almost felt like alligator tears - fake, controlled, obtrusive. You were the one presenting him with the papers after all - why did you deserve to cry? You chose this, you spent weeks thinking about this, it was the clear option.

But quickly, when you took your seat, waves of regret rolled through you. You remembered your wedding day, and your honeymoon. Your first date, and what it felt like to move into an apartment together. It was hard to remember how those events became tarnished by the actions of your husband when you were sad like this.

Your wedding day was nothing like you had hoped. You didn’t get the dress you wanted, and the decorations didn’t go as planned. Your husband planned the honeymoon, chasing golf and all inclusive hotels, even though you had asked for something completely different. Begged, even. Moving into your first apartment led to you sleeping at local family homes after a massive fight over what color to paint the cabinets.

This was never going to work out. But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt.

You also had to sit with the fact that you hurt him. He had a dream, and you knew it going in. He longed for a nice, pretty wife, in a nice, pretty home, with a bus full of kids. He wanted everything any man in America wanted. And you thought you did too.

That was, of course, until you met Sevika.

Sevika was different from your husband, in a million ways. She made you feel deep emotions that you hadn’t come close to touching when with your husband. She cared for you, and wondered about you, took you on dates and checked in on you even when she knew you were with your husband. She cared. Care wasn’t a feeling you often felt with your husband.

Several days leading up to this moment in your kitchen had felt like a blur. You often sat and stared at a wall, trying to decide if this was the best choice. It was terrible, but you always wondered what life would be like if you never told your husband and never saw Sevika again, and simply carried on life how it was before she entered it.

But that wasn’t possible. Not now. Not after she had shown you and done to you the things she had. You were different now, a changed woman even. She had wedged herself into your life and now there was no going back, no matter how much you sought out normalcy.

You had sex with your husband more, tried deeply to feel as good as you did with Sevika. Went out to dinner with him, talked about baby names with him. Anything to make life feel like it had. But a chill crept up your spine every time- her chill. Sex with her. Dinner with her. Baby names with her.

And knowing that, this was clearly the correct choice.

Sevika doubted you would ever find it in yourself to do what you were doing, and she didn’t know currently that you were doing it. She had longed for everything that the two of you had, aside from the crippling factor of it. She longed to keep you at home, have children with you, be with you for the rest of her life, and it was wrong.

All of this was wrong. She was never supposed to fall like this. It was always her, the ranch, her dog, and nothing more. Up until now, she believed that she needed nothing more. She was slow to realize that, the only way she could feel normal now, was when your scent tracked around her house, and your clothes found purchase on her floor -

When you laughed at her jokes, fucking giggled. Admired her horses in the stables, learned to mount them with her, made her earth stuttering meals and let her take you out and buy you nice things. It was normal, when she watched you prance around her house and lay upon her furniture, telling her about your favorite tv programs and your favorite songs.

Every song you had listened to had become her favorite song. She migrated from her heavier music to the slow, lyrical stuff that you liked. All the things she insisted were bullshit. ‘Why would anyone listen to this?’ She had first said to Jinx when she played songs you mentioned. But deep down in her chest, a warm feeling erupted, poured out of her and crept through every bone and muscle in her body.

It was you. You were situated in her now, and no matter how hard she tried, you would never be gone.

The table felt larger now that you were at it alone. You had moved the flowers from the center, in order to see your husband promptly when he came into the room. You had envisioned this moment a thousand times now, and here you were. He would sit across from you, you would hand him the papers, he would cry, and then it would be over.

But unfortunately for you, that’s not how it went.

The sound of the lock turning is what made your head shoot up. He was home, now was the time. He yelled to you, a kind hello, but you averted an answer, deciding on simply calling him into the kitchen. Your plan was progressing smoothly. He sat down at the table as you knew he would, and you slid the papers to him.

He had asked what they were, and you simply instructed him to open them, wiping a stray tear from your eye. He opened them and began to read. And read, and read, and read. He sat there for minutes, reading the sheets of paper. But he didn’t cry.

“No,” he said simply, shrugging, shutting the folder, and sliding it back over to you. You glared at him, brows knit. “You're nothing without me. You don't have a job. I kept you here because you can't leave. You have nowhere to go.”

“That's not true,” you pushed. “I have more family than you've ever had,” you spat back, pushing up from the table. “I'm not just some helpless, stupid woman, y'know.”

“I wouldn't be so sure,” he laughed at you. “How are you getting north with no money, babe?” The worst part is that he was right. You had no money and no work. But, you had family, and they could come and get you. “Exactly. So shut the fuck up and stay in your place.” You looked at him disgusted.

“Have you, genuinely, ever tried shutting the fuck up?” Your tone raised as anger pooled in you. “All you do is talk and talk about yourself and what you want and how everything revolves around you. There's a lot more to the world than a mediocre white man.” You could feel the anger pouring off of him.

“What did I just fucking say? Stop acting like a stupid whore,” he yelled back. Something told you to leave, get away from him and this, but you didn't. You stood your ground for as long as you could.

“This is why I'm ending things. You're terrible to me,” you were yelling now, harshness overtaking your body as your pent up feelings raged. “You do nothing, you treat me like shit, this is the worst relationship I've ever put myself in. You're awful.”

With a shriek, you jumped back as he lifted a chair and threw it at the fridge. “Keep talking like a bitch and I'm gonna smash your head into the fucking wall.” Slowly, you backed up, still keeping a safe distance from him. “Where the fuck do you think you're going?” He yelled as your pace quickened.

You knew what needed to be done, and without any further hesitation, you turned and ran. “Get the fuck back here,” he yelled after you, running to catch up.

He was taller than you by a large margin. If you hadn't been several yards away from him when you began running, he could've easily overtaken you, and most likely dragged you back inside. You didn't want to think of what he would do to you if he had caught you.

Fortunately, you didn't have to. You ran with all your strength across the street, banging hard and fast on Sevika's door. He was getting closer, and quick. She threw the door open, looking quickly between you and the angry man running towards you both, and immediately pulled you inside.

What you had failed to notice the other times you had been here was that Sevika kept a gun by her front door. And right now, she didn't fail to use it. Or at least threaten to use it.

“If you take one step closer I'll blow y’r fuckin’ brains out,” she spat towards him, shotgun propped up and aimed effortlessly at his head. “And I'm warnin’ you, pretty boy, I got a real good aim.”

“You think I'm afraid of a little dyke like you?” He yelled. Sevika shot.

She missed his head by a narrow margin, but it was on purpose. The bullet blew through the tip of his ear, blasting it off. “One more fuckin’ word and you're dead. Get off my property.” With a bloody grip on his ear, he ran back to your previous home with tears in his eyes.

He was gone. You were almost free. One signature was all it took for you to be a free woman, and knowing Sevika and your husband, he would undoubtedly sign it - even if it meant she had to hold her gun to his head.

You trickled down into a ball on the ground when Sevika shut the door. The moment had overtaken you, but you were quickly ripped back to the real world when she sat the gun down. If it weren't for her, you could be dead right now, and the feeling took over your body rapidly.

She joined you on the floor, pulling you into a tight hug and stroking your hair. “Y’r safe now, sugar, I ain't gonna hurt you like him.” You sobbed into her chest, probably, disgustingly, covering her in tears and snot. It was clear, though, that she didn't care. She didn't stop holding you until you had calmed down slightly.

She carried you to her living room and sat you down on the couch, ignoring your insistence on your ability to walk. She brought you tissues and water, joining you on the couch. “Now, you ain't gotta tell me what happened, peach, but I'd like to know why I almost just killed a man.” You sniffled, wiping your nose on your sleeve.

“I gave him divorce papers,” more tears fled, “he threw a chair a-and told me that I'm nothing without him and I h-have nowhere to go,” you broke down again, curling into a ball on her sofa. “He called me a stupid whore.”

“Oh sweet thing,” she moved from her position on the couch to come to yours, pulling you in once again. You unraveled, clinging to her as you cried. “You ain't stupid and you ain't a whore, and most importantly, you ain't those two things combined.” You punched out a laugh through your tears, but an overwhelming feeling of guilt took you over.

“But I am,” you cried. “I cheated on my husband, there's no word to describe me other than whore.” Sevika sighed, grasp on you tightening.

“Cheatin’ on someone who doesn't love you don't make you a whore, angel. You jus’ needed a change.” You gave her a small nod, letting yourself enjoy the feeling of being connected to her for a few moments before responding.

“What now?” You didn't expect answers from her. But you craved to know something about what would happen moving forward. You would have to go home, retrieve your papers and your things, somehow get them back north.

“Come live with me,” her voice was laced with nervousness, the feeling of being unsure not one that she felt very often. “Just during the transition. If ya’ hate it I'll help y’move back north. Promise.” Warmth bloomed in your chest at the thought.

“That sounds nice,” you smiled up at her, and before you could help it, you leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek. “Thank you, Sevika. For everything.” She chuckled.

“Baby I ain't done nothin’ other than steal you from y’r husband.” You shook your head, sitting up to protest her.

“I would've left him regardless. You gave me a taste of what a genuine relationship feels like, not just some nuclear poster board one. You made me feel things that I've never felt before, you made me feel loved, and I love you for it, and..” you stopped immediately when you realized what you had said. You love her for it.

“You ain't gotta say nothin’ you don't mean, darlin’.” She said, awkwardly. You couldn't have possibly meant it, not to her. You were sad and probably not thinking straight after having your life threatened.

You moved away from her on the couch to face her. “I do mean it. These past few months you've made me feel things that nobody has made me feel before, I really, really like you Sev, and I think that a piece of me, actually, more than a piece of me loves you, too.” You met her eyes, fear ridden in yours. This fear didn't feel the same as it did with your husband. That fear felt as if he was going to hurt you, this fear - this fear was of the what ifs. What if you were just sex to her? What if it meant nothing?

“C’mere,” she dragged you into her lap, hands resting respectfully on your waist. “I love you too, sugar. But that don't mean nothin’ in the scheme of things. I'm not gonna keep you here jus’ cus I got a crush on you. If you need a leave or go back north, you say the word, y’hear me?”

With a wide smile and a cock of your head, you leaned in and kissed her, this one meaning more than any other kiss you'd have in your lifetime. “I hear you, Vika.” She couldn't resist smiling.

This was all she ever wanted, and she got it. And no matter what she said - she was never letting you go. You were hers now, and she was yours.

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mssalo · 7 months ago

Text

debt

Joel saved you - since that day, you’ve stuck to him, unable to survive on your own. But another mistake pushes him over the edge—this time, his patience snaps. Now, he wants you to pay him back for every time he’s saved you, using your body as the price.

After all, you owe him, and he’s come to collect.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Dark themes, dubious consent/non-consensual themes, explicit sexual content (penetrative sex, oral sex - female receiving), graphic violence, psychological manipulation, dark Joel (possessive, dominant), 5k.

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

You had been traveling with Joel for what felt like an eternity.

Time had lost all meaning in this world; days bled into nights, and weeks into months, marked only by the changing light in the sky and the constant push to keep moving, to survive.

Everything blurred into one long, desperate journey, and the only constant was Joel. You and Joel had fallen into an unspoken rhythm—walking, scavenging, finding shelter when the sun dipped below the horizon. He was your protector, the reason you were still alive. You wouldn’t have made it this far without him. In fact, you wouldn’t have lasted a week.

Joel was unlike anyone you’d ever met. He was older, rougher, with edges worn sharp by years of survival. He didn’t talk much, and when he did, his words were clipped and to the point, always with the hint of a warning behind them.

You, on the other hand, couldn’t help but fill the silences, rambling on nervously, hoping to break the tension that seemed to follow you both like a shadow. You knew you weren’t the smartest, or the strongest. You weren’t a fighter, and your instincts weren’t sharp like his. But Joel had kept you alive despite all of that, and for reasons you didn’t quite understand, he hadn’t left you behind.

That’s why you stuck close to him—because, deep down, you knew that without him, you were as good as dead.

It had all started when Joel saved you for the first time. You hadn’t been prepared for the kind of dangers that came with living outside the walls, beyond the safety of any remaining settlements. You were clueless, naïve—wandering off into the wilderness with nothing more than a backpack and a vague hope of finding food. You hadn’t thought it through. You never did. The moment you left, you were as good as lost.

You didn’t even hear them coming, the raiders. They crept out of nowhere, brutal and fast. By the time you realized what was happening, it was too late. You were surrounded, their eyes filled with malice as they circled you like predators closing in on prey. You were frozen, paralyzed with fear, your mind spinning as you tried to come up with some way out. But there was no way out. They were going to take everything from you—your supplies, your life—and you could feel their intentions burning into your skin, the dark edge of something even worse.

And then Joel appeared.

He moved through them like a shadow, silent and efficient. You barely had time to register what was happening before one of the men fell to the ground, Joel’s knife buried deep in his chest.

The others turned on him, but it didn’t matter. Joel was faster, stronger, and brutal in a way that made your stomach turn. You watched in shock as he killed them all, one after another, without hesitation, without mercy. He didn’t flinch, didn’t waver—his face a mask of cold focus as he wiped the blood from his knife.

When the last of the raiders fell, Joel looked at you, his dark eyes unreadable. You had been trembling, still too stunned to speak, too scared to move. You were supposed to thank him, but the words wouldn’t come. All you could do was stare, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to make sense of the man standing in front of you.

“Come on,” he’d said, his voice low and rough, as if saving you had been an inconvenience. “You’re not safe out here on your own.”

And just like that, you followed him. You didn’t even think about it. You just knew that Joel was your best chance, maybe your only chance, at survival. He was dangerous, but that danger was your shield. He was protection in its most brutal form.

Since then, you hadn’t left his side. Traveling with Joel was a balancing act—one that required you to keep up and stay out of trouble, though you often failed at both. He kept a tight pace, his long strides carrying him forward with purpose, while you struggled to match his speed, constantly lagging behind.

He never said it, but you could feel his frustration simmering beneath the surface, especially when you slowed him down.

Joel was patient, to a point. You could see it in the way his jaw clenched when you talked too much, filling the silence with nervous chatter.

He never asked for details about your past, and you had learned quickly that asking him about his wasn’t wise either. You were opposites in so many ways. Where Joel was quiet and calculating, you were naive, overly optimistic at times, always hoping things would get better.

You talked to fill the space between you, trying to ignore the constant danger that lurked just beyond the edges of your awareness.

But Joel wasn’t one for talking. He had no time for distractions, no tolerance for mistakes. His patience had limits, and you had pushed those limits more times than you could count.

You saw it in his eyes—how they darkened when you slowed him down or when you clumsily fumbled with your supplies. There was a tension between you that you didn’t fully understand, but you could feel it simmering like a storm about to break.

Sometimes, you’d catch Joel watching you. His gaze would linger longer than it should, his expression unreadable. There was something in the way he looked at you that made your heart race—not just from fear, but from something else. Something you didn’t dare name. Joel was magnetic in a way that frightened you, in a way that made it impossible to pull away.

You knew you weren’t the smartest or the most capable, and that knowledge left you vulnerable. You tried to make up for it by being helpful, offering to do the little things—fetching water, setting up camp—but more often than not, you were in Joel’s way.

You relied on him for everything—your safety, your survival—and he knew it. But something was shifting. There was a heat between you that you didn’t fully understand, a simmering undercurrent that felt like it was building toward something inevitable.

You weren’t sure what it was, but every time you caught Joel’s eyes on you, lingering just a little too long, you felt it. The storm was coming. And you didn’t know if you were ready for it.

· · ───

It had been a long day. Hours of walking left your legs aching, the sun had long since dipped below the horizon, and exhaustion weighed heavy on your shoulders. The two of you had made it through the outskirts of a city, avoiding trouble as best you could. But trouble always seemed to find you.

You’d been scavenging through a dusty old shop, wandering farther than you should have. That’s when you heard it. The unmistakable clicking noise that sent a spike of terror through your veins.

Your body froze, breath caught in your throat as the sound drew nearer. It was the wet, choking clicker sound—a noise you’d come to know all too well.

Before you could react, it was on you—a grotesque, twisted figure lurching toward you with inhuman speed. Your body refused to move, fear locking you in place.

Then, just as the creature lunged for you, Joel’s hand yanked you back. His knife flashed, slicing clean through the clicker’s neck, and it collapsed to the ground, twitching and gurgling before going still.

The silence that followed was deafening.

You gasped, your body trembling from the adrenaline, your heart pounding in your chest as you looked up at Joel.

His face was hard, jaw clenched, and his eyes burned with fury—fury directed entirely at you.

“What the fuck were you thinkin’?” he snapped, his voice a low, dangerous growl.

His hand was still wrapped around your arm, tight and unyielding, pulling you closer to him. “You tryin’ to get yourself killed?”

“I—I wasn’t—” you stammered, but your voice was barely a whisper.

“Shut up,” Joel barked, cutting you off. His grip tightened painfully, his face inches from yours, his voice seething with anger. “You don’t listen. You never fuckin’ listen.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, his words cutting deep. You knew he was right.

You’d messed up—again. You’d wandered off like he told you not to, and it had almost cost you everything.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, but Joel wasn’t having it.

“Sorry ain’t good enough,” he muttered darkly, his voice a low, menacing growl.

His eyes bored into yours, filled with a fury that made your heart race. “Do you even understand how close you were to dyin’?”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut, and for the first time, you saw it clearly—the tension that had been building between you for weeks, months. It wasn’t just anger.

There was something darker, something raw and primal in the way Joel looked at you now. His breathing was heavy, his jaw tight, and his eyes… His eyes were filled with something dangerous.

“You wanna keep playin’ games?” Joel’s voice dropped lower, almost a growl, as he stepped closer, his grip on your arm pulling you toward him until your bodies were nearly touching. “You think I’ll just keep savin’ you every damn time?”

“Joel, I—” you began, but his hand shot up, gripping your chin roughly, forcing you to look into his dark, burning eyes.

“Shut up,” he snarled, his voice tight with barely contained rage. “You don’t get to speak right now. I’m talkin’.”

The world around you seemed to narrow, the only thing you could focus on was Joel—the heat of his body, the tension radiating off him, the way his breath brushed against your skin.

You felt your pulse race, fear and something else tangling together in your chest.

He didn’t let go as he dragged you out of the store, his hand still tight around your wrist, practically pulling you through the darkened streets.

The sun had disappeared behind the horizon, and the air had turned cool, but the heat from Joel’s anger burned hot between you. He moved fast, his jaw clenched, his eyes fixed straight ahead, and you stumbled to keep up with his brutal pace.

Eventually, after what felt like hours, he led you into the trees. The abandoned streets gave way to a dense forest, and hidden within the thick canopy of trees was a small, dilapidated cottage.

It was old and crumbling, but it was shelter. Joel didn’t hesitate as he shoved open the door, dragging you inside with him.

The moment the door slammed shut, the air between you shifted. The tension thickened, suffocating and inescapable. Joel let go of your arm, but you could feel the heat of his gaze on your back, and when you turned to face him, his expression had darkened even more.

His eyes were wild now, filled with something you didn’t recognize—something that made your stomach twist in knots. He stepped toward you, slow and deliberate, his presence looming and suffocating.

“You think this is a fuckin’ joke?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “I keep you alive, I protect you, and you don’t even listen.”

You swallowed hard, backing up instinctively, but Joel followed, his body closing the distance between you in an instant. His hand shot out, grabbing your arm again, yanking you toward him until your chest collided with his. The force of it made you gasp, but you didn’t pull away.

“Do you understand what it’s like for me?” he hissed, his breath hot against your ear, his grip unrelenting. “Every goddamn day, I’m watching over you, makin’ sure you don’t get yourself killed. And for what?”

His fingers dug into your skin, but it wasn’t the pain that made your heart race—it was the raw intensity in his voice, the way he looked at you as if you were both a burden and something he couldn’t let go of.

His breathing was ragged, and his body was so close that you could feel the heat radiating off him.

“You’re mine to protect,” Joel muttered darkly, his voice tight with barely controlled emotion.

“And you don’t get to fuck around like this is a game. You don’t get to make mistakes.”

Joel’s eyes flashed, and before you could react, he pulled you closer, his hand sliding up your arm, gripping your waist.

His touch was rough, possessive, and it sent a jolt of something through you—something that made your heart race even faster. His gaze was intense, his breathing ragged, and you could feel the tension radiating off him like a heatwave.

Joel’s grip on you was firm, his hand pressing against your waist, keeping you pinned close to him.

You could feel the tension radiating off him, his body tight with barely-contained anger and something else—something darker, more possessive. His eyes were dark, his jaw clenched as he stared down at you, his fingers digging into your skin like he was trying to hold himself back.

But he wasn’t holding back anymore.

“You have no idea, do you?” Joel muttered, his voice rough and low as his eyes raked over you. “ Walkin’ around, gettin’ too close, thinkin’ I’m just gonna keep savin’ your ass without takin’ anything in return.”

Your breath hitched, your heart pounding in your chest as his words sunk in.

You’d always known Joel was different, but this… this was something else entirely. His eyes were burning with an intensity you hadn’t seen before, and the way he looked at you, the way he held you, sent a shiver down your spine.

“I can’t fuckin’ hold back no more,” Joel growled, his hand sliding up your side, rough and possessive as his fingers traced your skin under your shirt. “Every time I save you, every damn time, you get closer. You think I don’t notice?”

You blinked up at him, your pulse racing. “I didn’t—”

“Shut up,” Joel snapped, his hand moving to grip your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “You’ve been pushin’ me. You’ve been drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy, actin’ all innocent, like you don’t know what you’re doin’.” His thumb brushed over your lips, rough and demanding.

“You owe me, darlin’. You owe me for every time I’ve kept you alive.”

Your breath came in shaky gasps, your body trembling under his touch as you stared up at him, wide-eyed.

“You’re mine now - my responsibility,” Joel growled, his voice low and rough as his hand slipped lower, his fingers trailing down your body with deliberate intent.

“You understand that? You owe me, and it’s time you start payin’ me back.”

You swallowed hard, your mind spinning as Joel’s words sank in. The way he spoke, the way his body pressed against yours, left no room for doubt. Joel wasn’t asking anymore.

He was taking, and there was nothing you could do to stop him.

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your neck as his fingers tightened around your waist, his voice a low, dangerous murmur.

“You’re too fuckin’ pretty and sweet to keep walkin’ around like you don’t know what you do to me. You need to learn, and I’m gonna teach you.”

His words sent a jolt through you, your heart racing as his hands moved over your body.

You could feel the heat of him, the raw power in the way he held you, and it made your head spin. You didn’t know what to do—didn’t know if you should fight him or let him take what he wanted. But the way he touched you, the way he looked at you like you were his, made it impossible to resist.

“You’ve been drivin’ me crazy,” Joel growled, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a low rasp. “I’ve been watchin’ you, waitin’, but I ain’t waitin’ anymore. You’re mine now, and you’re gonna thank me the way I deserve.”

Your breath hitched as his hand moved lower, his grip tightening as he held you against him, his voice dark and commanding. “You’re gonna give me what I want, and you’re gonna like it.”

His words hung in the air, thick with tension and promise, and you felt a shiver run down your spine as Joel’s hand slid down to your hips, fingers gripping you tightly.

“You don’t even know how long I’ve been wanting this,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck, sending waves of heat through your body. “Every time I save you, I think about what I could do to you. What I want to take from you.”

You swallowed hard, the way he spoke igniting something deep within you. “Joel, I—” but he silenced you with a fierce kiss, his mouth capturing yours with a possessiveness that made your head spin.

You melted against him, feeling the heat radiating off his body, the raw intensity of his desire overwhelming your senses.

“You feel my cock, baby?” he growled, pressing his hard bulge against you, his hands roaming over your skin, exploring every curve and contour.

“That’s what you do to me. You think I can just keep saving your ass without gettin’ something in return? I need something to stay motivated.”

His fingers found the waistband of your pants again, tugging them down your legs with a firm yank. You gasped, a rush of air escaping your lips as he tossed them aside, leaving you exposed and vulnerable before him.

“You owe me for every damn time,” he said, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of you, bare and trembling. “And I’m gonna collect.”

He knelt before you, his gaze locked onto your slick folds - all spread open with your little clit twitching - and you felt a rush of heat flood your cheeks.

“Finally gettin’ to see this sweet little pussy up close,” he growled, his voice low and dripping with desire. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to taste you.”

Before you could utter a word, his mouth was on you, devouring you with a fervor that made your body jerk in response.

His tongue slid over your folds with slow, deliberate strokes, dragging across your wetness, tasting you as if he had been starved for this moment.

The pressure of his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking gently at first, before increasing his intensity, pulling a helpless gasp from your lips.

"Shh," he murmured against you, his breath hot against your sensitive skin. "Just take it. This is what you’re here for. This is my payment."

His tongue began to circle your clit, his movements slow and purposeful, as if savoring every second. The wet heat of his mouth sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body, and the rough texture of his tongue made your legs tremble uncontrollably.

His lips closed around your swollen bud again, sucking harder now, each pull dragging you deeper into the haze of pleasure he was building within you.

“Look at you,” he muttered darkly, his voice a growl vibrating against your core. “This little cunt… soaking for me. My good little girl - can’t think for herself, hm?”

His fingers joined the rhythm, sliding through your wet folds, teasing your entrance but never giving you exactly what you craved.

He kept you on edge, his fingers barely entering, only to pull back, his tongue working in perfect sync as he sucked harder on your clit, then flicked it mercilessly. You could feel the pressure building inside you, every nerve alight with need, but he was in no rush. He wanted to enjoy this, to savor the control he had over you.

“Fuck,” he breathed, his voice filled with satisfaction as he pulled back just enough to speak. “This is my pussy. Look at how wet you are for me. I’m the only one who gets to do this to you, the only one who’s gonna make you fall apart like this.”

Without warning, he sucked your clit hard, his teeth grazing over it ever so slightly, biting your sweet pulsing clit - making your body jolt with a mix of pleasure and pain that left you gasping.

The bite was just enough to send a shock through you, but before you could fully react, his tongue was back, flicking fast over your sensitive bud, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“You’re mine,” he growled, his voice low and full of dark possessiveness. “This little pussy is mine to use whenever I want. You’re gonna take it and keep quiet.”

His fingers slid inside you then, filling you with a firm, confident thrust. He moved them in and out slowly, deliberately, matching the rhythm of his tongue as it continued its assault on your clit. The combined sensation of his fingers stretching you and his mouth working your swollen bud had your body trembling, the tension building impossibly high.

He sucked hard again, his lips sealing around your clit, tongue swirling over it as he thrust his fingers deeper. His possessive growls vibrated against your skin, adding to the overwhelming sensations flooding your body. He bit down gently once more, his teeth grazing your sensitive clit, and the shock of it sent a jolt of electricity through you.

“Take it,” he commanded, his voice rough, his breath hot against your core. “I’m not letting up until I’ve gotten everything.”

Your body was on fire, the relentless teasing and flicking of his tongue pushing you higher, the pressure in your core coiling tighter with every thrust of his fingers.

You were close—so close—but he wasn’t going to let you have it easily. He pulled back for a moment, admiring the way you writhed, utterly helpless against the pleasure he was giving you.

“You’re not gonna forget this,” he murmured, his eyes locked on yours with a dark intensity. “Every time you take a step, you’re gonna remember who this fuckin’ pussy belongs to.”

Then, without warning, his mouth was back on you, sucking hard, his fingers moving faster, more demanding.

He thrust them deeper inside you, curling them just right as his tongue flicked over your clit again and again, the relentless pressure pushing you right to the edge.

Your body tensed, every muscle tight as the wave built inside you, ready to break. “Cum for me, little girl,” he growled against your skin, his voice thick with dominance. “Cum for me, and don’t you dare hold back.”

And with one last powerful flick of his tongue, you shattered, the wave crashing over you as your body convulsed under the intensity of your orgasm.

The pleasure hit you in crashing waves, your body trembling uncontrollably as he continued to lick and suck, drawing out every last bit of your release. His fingers didn’t stop, thrusting slowly as your walls clenched around him, your cries filling the room as he took everything from you.

He pulled back, his lips glistening with your wetness as he looked up at you, his eyes filled with dark satisfaction. “That’s it,” he said softly, his voice still rough. “You’re mine. This pussy is mine.”

As you were there, breathless, your body still trembling from the aftershocks, he leaned down again, his lips grazing over your inner thigh - his voice low and possessive. “I’m not done with you yet.”

He loomed over you, every inch of him radiating raw, unrestrained control. His hands slid over your thighs, spreading you wide beneath him as his gaze locked on your slick folds, his eyes filled with possessive hunger.

He moved up - his cock pressed against you, thick and hard, teasing your entrance but not giving you what you so desperately craved.

His control over you was absolute, and he loved every second of it.

“My sweet little girl,” he growled, his voice low and full of dark intent. His fingers traced along your wetness, teasing your sensitive skin, the heat of him pressing harder against your entrance, but still not pushing inside.

“You don’t even know how much you need me, do you? You think you can take care of yourself? No, baby. I do that for you. I keep you safe, I protect you, and you’ll give me what I deserve in return.”

He thrust forward suddenly, filling you with one hard stroke, making you gasp as he stretched you to the limit.

His cock pulsed inside you, thick and unrelenting, and your body tightened around him instinctively. “That’s it,” he growled, his hips grinding against yours. “You feel that? That’s me taking what’s mine.”

His pace was slow at first, each thrust deliberate, as if he was savoring the feeling of you wrapped around him.

His hands gripped your hips, pulling you harder against him as he began to move faster, driving into you with more force. “This pussy belongs to me, and I’ll keep you safe, baby. You’ll never have to worry about anything… as long as you let me take care of you like this. As long as you give me this tight cunt to fuck.”

He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear as his hips moved against yours, his voice low and rough. His cock now pushing deeper into your gripping cunt.

“You don’t have to think, baby. I’ve got you. You don’t need to worry about a thing. I make the decisions now, you just let me take what I need from you. Yeah?”

Each word sent a shiver through you, the possessiveness in his tone making the heat between you burn even hotter. His cock drove into you harder now, each thrust hitting deeper, as if he was determined to claim every part of you.

His hand slid up to your throat, gripping lightly, just enough to remind you who was in control. “You don’t need to think. You don’t need to decide. I do that for you. I keep you safe, baby. That’s what I’m here for.”

His pace quickened, each thrust harder and more demanding, the sound of your bodies meeting filling the room.

His grip tightened on your throat, his thumb pressing gently on your pulse as his hips slammed into yours with relentless force. “You like that?” he growled, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Me taking care of you? You’ll never feel pain, never be unsafe, as long as you’re mine.”

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your neck, his breath hot and ragged as he whispered against your skin.

“You couldn’t survive without me. You need me to protect you… and this is what you give me in return. This sweet fuckin’ pussy, all mine. I can feel how much she needs me, how tight she’s squeezing me.”

His thrusts became erratic, more desperate as the pleasure built between you. His cock filled you perfectly, his hands gripping you tightly as he pounded into you, the force of his thrusts pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“I’m the only one who gets to fuck you like this,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous. “The only one who makes you come. You don’t need to think, baby. I do that for you.”

The pressure inside you built higher, your body tightening around him as he drove you toward the breaking point. His hands moved down your body, gripping your hips harder, pulling you against him with each powerful thrust. “You’re mine to protect, mine to fuck, mine to keep safe. And I’ll keep doing it as long as you keep giving me this pussy.”

His words were pushing you closer and closer, the raw intensity of his voice mixing with the physical sensation of him inside you.

His hips moved faster, harder, as he took you completely, the rhythm of his thrusts relentless and commanding.

“Come for me, baby,” he growled, his voice thick with dominance.

“I want to feel this cunt squeeze my cock. I want to feel you give me everything. That’s what you’re here for, hm? To make me feel good. To keep me happy.”

His words sent you over the edge, your body tightening around him as the wave of pleasure crashed through you. You cried out, your voice breaking as your orgasm tore through you, your body trembling beneath him as he kept thrusting, driving you through every wave of release.

“That’s it,” he muttered, his voice low and rough, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chased his own release. “You’re perfect for me. I’m the only one who gets this, the only one who makes you feel like this.”

His body trembled as he came, his groans mixing with your gasps, his cock pulsing deep inside you as he filled you completely.

The weight of him stayed pressed against you, his breath heavy and ragged, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he stayed right there, still buried deep inside you, his cock warm and hard within you, as though he couldn’t bear to lose the connection between your bodies.

For a long, quiet moment, the world seemed to stop. His chest rose and fell against yours, your heartbeats gradually slowing, but his cock remained where it was, still throbbing slightly, refusing to let go. His hands moved down your sides, gentle but possessive, his touch tracing over your skin as though reminding you exactly who you belonged to.

“Imma stay inside you,” he murmured, his voice low and rough in your ear. His lips brushed against your neck, planting soft, possessive kisses along your skin. “You feel too good, baby. I’m not ready to leave yet.”

He shifted slightly, his body still pressed firmly against yours, his cock still resting deep within you, a steady warmth radiating between your bodies.

His fingers moved slowly, lazily, slipping between your legs to where you were still slick with your combined release. His fingertips grazed your swollen clit, making your body jolt, even in the soft afterglow of what had just happened.

“You’re still so sensitive,” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear as his fingers continued their slow, teasing exploration.

He barely touched you, just enough to keep the sensation alive, his cock twitching slightly inside you as he shifted his hips ever so gently. “But you can handle it, can’t you, baby? Just let me stay right here, let me keep feeling you.”

The slow circling of his fingers, combined with the fullness of him still inside you, kept your senses buzzing, every nerve in your body still on edge. His hand moved with the lightest touch, but it was enough to keep the heat simmering just beneath the surface.

You felt the weight of his possessiveness in his every movement, his control over you still present, even in the gentleness of his touch.

He lifted his head slightly, his lips brushing your cheek, his voice softer but still filled with that dark promise.

“You don’t need to worry about anything. I’ve got you. You just stay right here… under me, with my cock still inside you. This is where you belong. Can’t do nothin’ wrong here.”

His words made your body shiver, even as his fingers continued their lazy circling, barely touching but enough to keep you sensitive, aware of him.

Your breath hitched, your mind spinning with the intensity of the connection you shared. The control he had over you, even in this moment of softness, was undeniable, and a question formed on your lips—tentative, but needing to be asked.

“So you’ll keep me safe?” you whispered, your voice breathless, a mix of need and vulnerability. “You won’t leave me now… and ever?”

For the first time, you spoke, and the words seemed to hang in the air between you. His gaze softened slightly as he looked down at you, but the possessiveness in his eyes remained.

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, slow kiss, his hand still resting on your thigh, fingers still gently teasing you.

“I’ll never leave you,” he murmured against your lips, his voice warm but full of that same commanding promise. “You’re mine, baby. I’ll keep you safe. I’ll protect you from everything. You’ll never have to think for yourself again… not when I’m here to take care of you.”

His fingers slowed, his touch even lighter now, more like a reminder of the control he held over your body.

His cock was still inside you, the warmth of him filling you completely as he spoke, each word laced with dark satisfaction. “This is where you belong, with me inside you. I’m the only one who can keep you safe… the only one who gets to touch you like this.”

He kissed you again, slower this time, his lips soft but possessive. His hand moved up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin as if to reassure you of the promise he was making.

“You don’t have to worry about anything,” he whispered, his breath mingling with yours. “I’ll always protect you… as long as you keep giving me everything.”

He stayed there, his body still pressed against yours, his cock still warm inside you, the closeness between you tangible and intense. His kisses grew softer, lingering, his fingers still gently teasing at your oversensitive skin, keeping you connected, keeping you grounded in the possessive warmth of his embrace.

“And remember,” he said softly, a hint of menace in his tone, “there’s no turning back now.”

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

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sluttyten · 7 months ago

Text

The Devil in Me

Kinktober Day 9 | Haechan Masterlist | Member Masterlist

tags: loss of virginity, first time, oral sex, marking, biting, possessive/protective Haechan, mentions of human sacrifice, demons, a lot softer/romantic than it sounds

length: 8293

Maybe you should have heeded the warnings of your friends and family, but you’d thought it was all just a bit of small-mindedness and prejudice.

When you started seeing a guy who was a loud and proud satanist, your friends and family had all told you that he would be bad news. But you’d done some research into the belief system of satanists, and it wasn’t inherently evil, as they all seemed to believe. And you liked this guy, he was charming and handsome and he spoke to you like you were his everything, that you were someone special to him.

And now, in your present position, you can see that you were in fact someone special to him.

You were his virgin sacrifice.

It had been a mistake to tell him that you were a virgin. You could’ve fed him some other excuse for why you didn’t want to have sex, but you’d gone with the truth. And now look where it got you.

He’d brought you out into the woods on the premise of a night hike, stargazing, camping and keeping each other warm beside a campfire. But now you were strapped to a wooden table in the middle of a circle of fire in the woods, and he was pacing in circles around you, chanting words and drawing symbols on his bare chest in either red paint or some kind of blood.

He’d already given you the evil villain speech. This was a ritual to summon a demon he’d read about — a chaos demon who could grant him wealth and talent by stealing it from others. He was going to sacrifice you and blah blah blah. You’d stopped listening after a while. The straps on your wrists were so tight that you were losing feeling in your fingertips. Your ankles were tied down too, and you could see no way out of this, resigned to your fate.

All you know is that if he kills you, you’re going to haunt the shit out of him.

When he stops his pacing, when the chanting slows, you close your eyes and send a prayer out to anyone listening to save you.

The asshole teases you with your own death. He trails his hunting knife from your neck down between your breasts, slicing apart your shirt as he goes.

Your shirt falls open, and he returns the blade to your throat. You refuse to make a sound, you refuse to give him the satisfaction of hearing you cry out.

“Look at me!” He yells, his hand gripping your chin. “I want you to watch.”

Your eyes fly open, and you stare this asshole in the eye, putting as much hatred and vitriol in your gaze as you can.

He grins, trailing the knife lower, and with a flick of his wrist, he gives you a shallow cut just above your left breast. You can see the first drops of your blood well up to the surface. His eyes light up, the chant falling from his lips again as he lifts his hand and the blade, drawing them up into the air over the center of your chest.

He’s going to plunge it into your heart, that’s something he said during his monologue.

You suck in a breath, watching his hand, watching the moonlight glint off the blade.

He swings.

And a tan hand curls around his wrist, halting the movement.

“I don’t think so,” a smooth voice says.

You watch the hand on your would-be murderer’s wrist. The hand guides his, redirecting the path of his blade, and you squeeze your eyes shut as the blade draws across his throat. You try to tune out the wet choking sound as your would-be murderer collapses, as he pulls himself away through the grass and the brush, as he dies the ugly death he would have given to you.

You open your eyes when you can no longer hear him struggling to survive, and you see before you a beautiful, beautiful demon.

His eyes glow a deep red. Two black horns stick out from his black hair. Ragged black wings jut out from his shoulders. And he’s beautiful. Devastatingly handsome.

The summoning ritual worked.

The fight for survival comes racing back through you, and you jerk against your bonds, crying out, screaming for help. You’ll not have your soul taken by a demon. That’s not happening tonight!

“Don’t be afraid,” he says calmly, “I’m not here to hurt you.”

With a wave of his hand, the bonds on your wrists snap, your ankles suddenly are freed as well. You sit up, clutching at the sides of your shirt to pull them together over your chest. The demon looks at you, and then turns his head to the side towards where you last heard that bastard's dying breaths fade away.

“Some humans are real assholes, yknow?” The demon says, still not looking at you. “They think we all want sacrifices, which, don’t get me wrong, they can be nice from time to time, but we don’t demand the murder of virgins. We certainly don’t demand unwilling pretty women be murdered in the woods.”

He spits towards what you can only assume is the dead body of your would-be murderer. And then the demon looks back at you, eyes aglow.

“I’m Haechan,” he introduces himself, holding his hand out to you. “But you can call me Donghyeok.”

You hesitate for a moment, uncertain if you should give him your name or shake his hand. You feel like you’ve heard stories about how bad doing either of those things could be. But in the end, it’s the way that the corner of his mouth tilts up as he watches you that convinces you.

You put your hand in his, and you give him your name.

Donghyeok lifts your hand, brushing his lips across your knuckles. “Pleased to have saved you.”

Your pulse throbs in your veins, pounding in your ears.

An actual demon is holding your hand, standing before you smelling like sea air and citrus rather than the burning brimstone stories would have you believe. Donghyeok lowers your hand, and you pull it back into your lap.

“That guy seemed like a dick.” Donghyeok turns away, shaking his wings as he walks over to the nearest flickering ground torch. He continues talking while he extinguishes that torch, saying, “Very bossy in his summoning chant. I probably would’ve ended up killing him even if he wasn’t trying to murder you. How did you end up here, anyway?”

“I was stupid.” You droop forward, hanging your head as you look down at your knees. “I let him trick me into thinking he was a good guy despite all the warnings from everyone around me. I thought they were just prejudiced since he was a Satanist, but they were right.” You risk a glance in Donghyeok’s direction. “I shouldn’t have ever told him I’m a virgin, I was basically just asking to get sacrificed in a demonic ritual.”

Donghyeok’s wings flare as he turns to look at you. “Don’t say that. Don’t ever blame yourself for the actions of a stupid man. He is the one that did this, not you.”

He extinguishes two more torches before either of you speak again.

“Virgin sacrifices don’t actually mean, like sexual virginity, yknow?” Donghyeok says, his back facing you while he puts out another torch. Now only four of them remain lit in the circle. “It’s virgin blood. Blood that’s never been used for a ritual before. As soon as he cut you, I felt the call, and I saw what he was going to do to you. I’m tired of men killing women with the excuse of summoning me. I just require a few drops of blood to be spilled, not a life taken.”

Donghyeok waves his wings, and three more torches flicker out, leaving just one glowing right in front of you, providing just enough light to see by as Donghyeok strides back to you. His bloody red eyes sweep over you from head to toe.

“What are you going to do to me?” You can tell your voice is small, nearly lost in the whisper of wind through the trees. But Donghyeok hears, and he cocks his head slightly to the side to watch you.

“Haven’t you been listening?” He reaches up, snapping his fingers together and drawing a handkerchief out of thin air. “I’m not here to do anything to you. I came to rescue you from that asshole, and now you’re free.” He holds the handkerchief out to you.

“So you’re just going to leave me here?” You accept the silky white cloth, and you find one corner of it embroidered with flowy script — LDH, it says, and you run your thumb over the fine threads making up the letters.

“I didn’t say I was leaving you.” He smiles, and again, your pulse thunders. “We can go, or we can stay here and have sex.”

A squawk of surprise and indignation leaves you, which makes Donghyeok laugh. And fuck, you thought he was beautiful before, the sight and sound of his genuine laughter makes him even more beautiful.

“I’m joking!” He keeps laughing, his shoulders shaking as he tries to hold it in while he speaks, “But I can get you out of here in a snap so you don’t have to hike back through these woods in the dark.”

“Please!” You reach out, grabbing both of his hands, holding them between yours. “Please, get me out of here.”

Donghyeok’s expression goes serious. “I will, I promise. And what about him?”

You begin to turn your head to look, but you change your mind, keeping your gaze fixed on this beautiful demon. You shake your head. “Leave him. The police can deal with him, I’ll report the crime when I get back to town.”

Donghyeok watches you for a moment, contemplating something. Then he shrugs, holds tighter to your hands, and you feel a tug behind your navel.

The scenery around you has changed.

You’re still in the woods, but just at the edge of it. You can see the lights of town just ahead through the trunks.

“Here, let’s at least make it look like you’ve run back here.” Donghyeok crouches down, filling his hand with soft dirt. “May I?”

You’re not entirely sure what you’re agreeing to, but you nod. Immediately, Donghyeok is touching you, spreading dirt over your clothes, a smear of mud along the torn open edge of your shirt. He runs his fingers through your hair (which shouldn’t feel as good as it does). He plucks some twigs and leaves, sticking them haphazardly in your hair, dangling from a new rip at the bottom of your shirt.

He takes a step back to appreciate his handiwork, then nods, satisfied.

You both stand there looking at each other for a moment, and finally you say, “Thank you.”

Donghyeok nods. “You didn’t deserve what that asshole was going to do to you. None of them ever do deserve it. He, however, deserved everything he got, and everything he’s going to get when I get back to Hell.”

“Thank you,” you repeat because you mean it, and there are no words more genuine that you can think to say. “Really, Donghyeok, thank you.”

You turn towards the lights of town. You’re going to the police, filing a report, making sure they know that that bastard tried to kill you, and he's the reason he’s dead.

“One thing before you go!” Donghyeok steps in front of you. You look up at him just as he reaches out and puts his hand on your right shoulder. His hand burns hot and then hotter through your shirt, and you hiss in pain, trying to draw away, but Donghyeok holds on, only releasing you once the pain begins to fade into a tingle.

“That’s all. See you around.”

And then the demon disappears into a shadowy mist.

You stand there for a moment before you pull yourself back together, and you walk into town, straight for the police station.

They believe the story, which is good since most of it is true. Only part of it is fictionalized: when you say that you managed to slip the bonds he’d had on your wrists, the part where you wrestled the knife from him, where you’d cut him across the throat and then run miles back to town through the woods. But the story is believable because the facts and evidence are all there — the police trek through the woods and find the site of the ritual, find his body, find a blade that somehow has your fingerprints; they find plans in his apartment, records of messages between him and others, of his search history on how to summon a demon and how to perform a virgin sacrifice.

When you finally leave the police station, returning home under the care of your family and friends, you finally get a moment to yourself in the shower.

You peel off your pants and socks, drag your shirt over your head, slip off your panties and bra, and then you look at yourself in the mirror.

Black inky lines that weren’t there before these events are there now. You twist, angling better towards the mirror to be able to see what appears to be a whole tattoo that you never got.

A sunflower curves from front to back over your shoulder and down onto your arm.

You brush your fingers over the petals, feeling your skin tingle in a not unpleasant way. It sends a curl of warmth into your belly, makes your heart pound.

It’s Donghyeok, you know it is.

This is his mark, left on you.

The next time you see him, it’s too brief for your liking.

There’s a street festival, sort of like a carnival in town, and you spend hours down there one day as afternoon turns to evening turns to night. It brings all the weirdos out, from your town and those surrounding. You stick close to your friends, you have fun, you spend too much money on greasy food and rigged carnival games, you flirt with a cute carnie to get the big stuffed teddy bear prize.

Your friends decide to ride the Ferris wheel, but your mild fear of heights and the lure of a big pink cloud of cotton candy call to you instead. You’ll stay here feet firmly on the ground, enjoying your cotton candy, and watching them take a turn on the giant wheel.

But first you have to find the cotton candy booth.

You’re carrying your teddy prize like it’s a toddler, hoisted up to sit on your hip. You’re still rather pleased with yourself for having flirted it out of the carnie, even though you’re not quite sure what you’re going to do with it, and carrying it around for the rest of the night is possibly going to become a bit of a hindrance.

You cut between two game booths, slipping into the shadowed path that runs along the backs of the games, like an alley between the ring toss games facing one way and the basketball and shooting games facing the other. The cotton candy booth is visible at the end.

You have to step over wires, bags of vacuum-sealed prizes, a crate that’s surrounded by cigarette butts. The dings and chimes, alarm sounds and cries of joy all sound muffled, leaving you feeling a bit apart from the carnival despite being right in the heart of it.

A figure melts out of the shadows, suddenly keeping perfect stride with you.

You gasp, twisting around with the bear between you and this shadow-born devil.

“Me again,” Donghyeok laughs.

He’s got his hands tucked into his pockets. The devil horns are concealed by a hood. He’s wearing a leather jacket that has black wings stitched into the back panel. He could pass for normal, you think as your heart settles back into a more normal rhythm, if only his eyes weren’t still a deep red with his pupils reflecting light like an animal’s eyes at night.

“Donghyeok.” You almost collapse against the back of one of the game tents.

His lips curl around the sound of your name. You like the sound of that — his voice, your name.

You just stand there staring at him for a moment, amazed that he’s actually here. In the days after your near-sacrifice, you’d almost convinced yourself that Donghyeok had been nothing more than a figment of your imagination used to soften the trauma of that night a little. But here he is again. Real. In the flesh.

“Are you keeping out of trouble?” He asks, and when you nod, he scoffs. “But you’re back here walking by yourself? Do you know what kinds of people are drawn to work these carnivals? The transient lifestyle calls to some pretty awful people.” He turns to look back along the path you’ve been walking in this makeshift alleyway.

Several feet back, there’s a slumped over figure where there hadn’t been before. And the longer you look, the more you realize it’s that cute carnie that had given you the bear.

“Don’t worry, baby, I’ve got your back.” Donghyeok pats your right shoulder, his skin hot against yours. “You should get back to your friends before they start worrying. Here, this is for you.”

Out of thin air, he draws a large fluffy pink cotton candy, holding it out to you.

Donghyeok escorts you back towards your friends, and he blends in with the crowd, looking perfectly human except for his eyes. His shoulder bumps against yours. He chatters and laughs with you. You find it so curious the way that your heart skips each time you look at him.

Hours later, once you’re safely ensconced at home, you notice that the center of your sunflower marking on your shoulder is darker than it used to be, almost like you’d gotten it shaded in.

Donghyeok again, you’re sure.

You recall his hand on your shoulder, the gentle but pleasant burn of his skin on yours.

You turn your head, resting your cheek against your shoulder. The center of the sunflower is warm against your cheek.

A few weeks later, you’re certain your family thinks you’re crazy. You’ve not seen Donghyeok again since that night at the carnival, and honestly, you’re beginning to feel very Bella Swan in New Moon about the situation. You’re about to start throwing yourself into harm’s way just to see if Donghyeok will make an appearance to save you; although, you have a strong suspicion that if he knew you were doing dangerous things intentionally, he would make a point of not showing up.

So, instead of trying to cross paths with dangerous men (again), you decide to go to the library and local bookstores and pull any books you can find on how to summon a demon. You do research online, printing out pages and pages of summoning rituals. You’ve got a whole wall of your bedroom dedicated to the stuff.

“There is something very wrong with you,” your dad says one afternoon when he sees it all. “You survived that satanist dick. Why would you put yourself through this?”

You’re pretty sure your family and friends think you’re doing this to torture yourself. You can tell they’re all worried for you, all of them concerned about what path you’re taking.

But you’re not diving headfirst into satanism or anything like that really. You just want to summon one demon in particular – a chaos demon named Haechan who has asked you personally to call him Donghyeok.

You seek out a different ritual than the one performed when you first met him. You don’t want to have to sacrifice a virgin even if it only means a few drops of voluntary blood; that veers too close to the sacrifice you’d almost found yourself to be in the woods.

Eventually, you find a source online that suggests a few specific crystals, certain herbs, fire and chalk and a spell in a language that you’ll have to teach yourself. But it seems doable. You just have to find a shop for all of those things, and then you’ll summon Donghyeok. You just want to see him again. You’re drawn to him, and maybe it’s because he saved you so you’ve got some weird type of twist on Stockholm Syndrome, or maybe it’s this sunflower he marked on your shoulder, the roots it’s put down inside you making you want to see him more and more, thirsting for him like a desert plant in a drought.

You find a shop perfectly suited to your needs. The woman running the place seems quirky enough that you don’t have any qualms about telling her everything — what you’re looking for, how you’re going to use it, why you’re using it — and you’re obsessed with the gleeful twinkle in her eye as she dances around the shop, gathering the items you’ve listed, plucking them from dark corners, from a bay of windows, from bunches of herbs hanging from the ceiling.

“I do have to warn you,” she says as she carefully packs it all into a bag for you, her voice dipping towards a serious tone to say, “Some demons are always listening for a call, even if it’s not for them, especially when it’s a pretty girl like you calling with almost no taint in your blood. Just know, dear, that when you call for your demon, someone else might try reaching through. So be careful when you speak the spell. Clear pronunciation, clear focus and determination.”

She pats your hand tenderly before you leave, and she wishes you well.

You set up the ritual in your bedroom. You push all the furniture out of the center of the room, roll back the rug that usually covers the floor beneath your bed. You sketch out the symbols in chalk on the hardwood floor, you set up the crystals exactly according to the diagram on the website, placing candles exactly right too. You scatter herbs across the pentagram, sprinkle a few in a bowl set in the center of the ritual space, and finally you kneel beside it.

You clear your mind except for thoughts of Donghyeok, your wish to have him in front of you, and you begin speaking the words you’ve been practicing since you found them.

Before, they’ve felt like hollow words, but now as they fall from your lips there’s a new weight to them.

You continue, keeping your mind set, and you strike a match, watch the flame flicker and wave as you continue speaking the spell, the foreign words feeling strange on your lips and tongue, creating a tingle that makes you feel that this must be working, that you’ll be able to see Donghyeok again.

You drop the match into the bowl of crushed herbs in the center of the pentagram. The bowl is instantly engulfed in flame, the heat kissing your cheeks, and the final words of the spell incinerate in the air, the flames crackling and flashing a solid purple for a moment.

You feel the air from the room disappear as the fire swirls and sparks, as the candle flames around the circle shoot up elongated and casting shadows. The crystals crack and shimmer.

And when it all falls away, when the flame in the bowl extinguishes and the candles resume their normal flame size, you look up at the demon standing above you.

It’s not him.

You gasp, falling back on your hands.

The demon is fearsome, brutish. He reaches for you, gnarled red fingers clawed with filthy talons. You scramble backwards as he grabs for your sleeve, tearing the fabric when you jerk backwards.

Suddenly the demon releases you and stands straight within the pentagram.

“Haechan’s mark?” He utters in a garbled, deep voice straight from the pits of Hell. “You are under Haechan’s protection?”

A sharp whistle from across your bedroom draws your attention and that of the hideous demon in front of you.

Donghyeok sits on your bed, looking relaxed as ever. He cocks his head to the side, staring down this other demon. “That’s right. She’s under my protection, so get the fuck out.”

Donghyeok flicks his fingers, and the other demon vanishes in a wave of smoke and embers.

You can’t look away from Donghyeok lounging on your bed like it’s his throne. He’s wearing that leather jacket again, though right now his devil horns are visible poking through his dark hair. You’ve missed looking at him.

He looks at you now too. “You called?”

“I wanted to see you,” you tell truthfully.

“Why?” Donghyeok asks, not moving from the bed, just sitting there and watching you.

“Well why did you mark me?” You lift your fingers to the flower on your shoulder, brushing your fingers over the petals.

Across the room, Donghyeok’s eyelids flutter, and he rolls his head on his neck a little as if to relieve tension. “I marked you because I want you to be safe. I knew if any other demons saw my mark on you, they would leave you alone, as just evidenced.” He gestures at the pentagram. “And because I wanted you to have something to remember me by. And I like the thought of you wearing a memory of me.”

You stroke the petals of the flower again, and Donghyeok sits up on the edge of your bed, sitting forward.

“The flower changed the last time I saw you.” You draw your finger up to the center, darker now than it had been when Donghyeok first marked you the night you met. “The center has color now.”

“I know.” He leans forward, but doesn’t leave your bed, though he seems to just be hanging onto the very edge of it. He doesn’t explain more, just looks at you as if waiting for more.

You climb to your feet, picking your way through the candles and crystals and herbs, and you come to stand just in front of Donghyeok. He raises his gaze to your face, his hands are planted on either side of his thighs, and he doesn’t say a word as you reach out a hand, as you first touch his cheek with just your fingertips, and then you move them along his jaw, up into his hair.

Donghyeok’s eyes flutter shut, a sigh falls from his lips.

Your fingers find his horns, and gently you run your fingers along them both.

His hands fly to your hips, a breath catching audibly in his throat. “What are you doing?” He asks, voice tight but not in a way like he wants you to stop.

“You’re beautiful, Donghyeok,” you can’t resist saying, “And you’ve marked me, so maybe I want to return the favor.”

Donghyeok’s lips draw into a smirk. “Mark me how? Who are you trying to show that I’m yours?”

Your heart thunders, heat racing through your body at the sound of that. I’m yours, he said. “Say it again,” you demand.

“Say what?” Donghyeok’s eyes open at last, flicking open and lifting to meet your gaze. “That marking me would show others that I’m yours? That I belong to you in some way?” His hands tighten in your hips pleasantly, and you shuffle a little more forward into the V of his open thighs. Donghyeok smiles up at you, saying, “Baby, you’re mine. And you have been since the night we met, since I put my mark on your shoulder. It’s only fair that you put a claim on me too. Do your worst.”

Challenge burns in his red eyes, and heat flows through you, rivers of fire that all lead to one point, settling low in your belly — a pool of burning need that you’ve never felt with anyone else before.

With your fingers still in Donghyeok’s hair, you tip his head back. His lips pull into a wider grin, a soft sound of amusement, and then, “I forgot, baby, you’re a virgin. Are you intimidated by the thought of marking me?”

“No,” you groan. “Shut up.”

You push Donghyeok’s shoulders, and he flops onto his back in your bed.

God, he just looks like a guy, any normal guy that you might have found and invited back to your bed. And you’ve had a man in your bed before. You’ve had make out sessions, had heated heavy petting that never led anywhere. You’ve had hickeys, and given out your fair share of them too.

But Donghyeok is Donghyeok. There’s definitely something intimidating about the confident way he’s looking at you, the sexy look in his eye as he watches you — not just a look that says that he knows he’s sexy, but even more arousing is that the look in his eyes tells you that he finds you incredibly sexy.

You sink onto your bed on your knees, straddling the demon’s lap. Donghyeok lifts his hands up, interlacing his fingers behind his head as he watches you, and the expression on his face is just stoking that fire inside of you.

“Can you sit up?” You ask. “Take your jacket off?”

“Mm,” Donghyeok hums. “I like when you tell me what to do.”

Your belly swoops, and his grin widens.

He sits up, and you find his smile just inches in front of you. He shrugs out of his jacket, pushing it off the bed, and then he’s sitting here beneath you in a plain white tee, the denim of his jeans rubs against your thighs. And he’s right here. Right here. Lips just in front of you, and your hands drift back to touch him, to feel the warmth and breadth of his shoulders, and then your thumbs are sweeping in to trace over his Adam’s apple, which bobs when he swallows and breathes in sharply. Your fingers slide around to the nape of his neck, just pushing into his hair, and Donghyeok makes a noise so quiet yet so filled with desire.

You’ve been sitting here watching the path of your hands, but now you look at his lips so full and moist in front of you. And then you look just a bit higher to his eyes.

Perhaps the demonic bloody red of them should scare you, but they don’t. They stare into yours and you can’t bring yourself to give a damn about the fact that Donghyeok is a demon and not just a man.

That doesn’t matter to you one bit when you finally press your lips to his.

Donghyeok immediately kisses you back, opening up to your kiss, but he lets you take the lead, lets you do what you want with him. He moans when you push your hands higher into his hair at the back of his head, moans when you suck on his tongue, moans when you press your chest against his.

You moan when his hands finally find your hips again. Donghyeok drags your hips across the front of his pants, and you break the kiss to let out a shuddery moan.

“Okay?” He murmurs, lips falling down to your jaw, leaving butterfly kisses along the underside.

“Yes,” you sigh, “Do it again.”

Donghyeok drags you over his crotch again, rolling his hips up too, and you can feel him then, his erection beginning to press against the front of his jeans. He does it again and again, and after a few moments, you pick up the rhythm, taking over as you simulate riding him, and you bring his mouth back onto yours.

Again, Donghyeok is happy to let you lead, to control what’s happening.

He just touches you without pushing you, kisses you at the pace you set, although that doesn’t mean he’s a passive participant in all of this. He’s reacting and vocal, occasionally nipping at your bottom lip, occasionally bucking his hips out of rhythm with your moves. It’s like he’s giving you little peeks into his desire for you, moments when his cool demon facade slips.

Donghyeok moans when you leave his mouth behind to instead kiss his neck. His hands come to rest on your ass while you keep rolling and grinding down on his straining erection, and you’re feeling the tightening in your belly, you know if you don’t stop soon you’re going to cum like this. But it wouldn’t be the first time. You’ve had boyfriends and casual relationships before that respected your virginity, that had been content with things like this, found it hot to cum when fully clothed.

Donghyeok seems to be in the same mindset.

His golden skin beneath your lips is hot, and he moans your name again and again, rolling his hips up to meet each downward push of yours. You rock your hips more frantically, losing control as your orgasm rises. You bite at his throat as you cum, and Donghyeok’s hands on your ass keep you moving, keeping up with the push and pull of your pussy grinding over his erection.

Your body is still tingling as you roll off of him, as you lie down in your bed and pull him over you. “More,” you demand, “I want more.”

“Are you sure?” The demon above you asks.

You crave more from him. Donghyeok has you hotter than any man ever has before.

He kisses you without warning, jolting forward and sweeping you into a dramatic, hungry kiss. You want him, and you pour that desire into the kiss, impatient and horny for him to give you more.

You don’t wait for Donghyeok to start undressing you, you reach down and unfasten your shorts, maneuvering them off your hips and down your legs. The shirt’s a bit more difficult to rid yourself of, but Donghyeok obligingly breaks the kiss to let you pull it over your head, and while you’re in this position with space between you, you reach for the hem of his shirt.

“Can I?” You ask, tucking your fingers beneath the hem. “I want to have all of you.”

Donghyeok’s eyes flash flaming red. His voice is rough with emotion when he says simply, “Yes.”

You drag his shirt over his head without another moment wasted. And then your hands are back in his hair, stroking the curve of his horns as Donghyeok crushes his mouth to yours again.

Donghyeok grinds against your thigh while the two of you make out, and you have to pull one of your hands from his hair, seeking out one of his hands to pull down between your legs.

You’ve been touched like this before too. Over the panties, an ex rubbing your clit and stroking along your slit with the thin fabric between you and him. You’d managed a weak, unsatisfactory orgasm from it after a drawn out attempt, and decided to end things with him a few days later citing that you just didn’t feel the chemistry.

But presently, the moment Donghyeok’s fingers make contact with your clit over your panties, your brain is buzzing. Every nerve ending in your body is alert.

Donghyeok kisses you through every gasp and sigh. He smiles when you whine and buck your hips, when you circle your hips and grab at his wrist to guide his fingers towards your wet entrance, to the spot where your panties are absolutely soaked through. He kisses the corner of your mouth, and teases, “Do you want me to continue?”

You push away your panties, almost tearing them in your rush to be rid of them.

This much you’ve never done before. Never done penetration even with a man’s fingers.

Whether Donghyeok can read that in you, or if he sees the slight anxious anticipation in your gaze, he tenderly kisses your lips, sufficiently distracting you as he slicks his fingers against your bare pussy. This is a first for you too. Bare fingers and bare pussy, slick wetness making the glide so much easier and more pleasant.

Donghyeok kisses you and touches you until you’re whimpering, reaching for his wrist. “Inside me, put them inside me,” you beg, urging his hand lower.

It doesn’t make sense for a demon to be so gentle, but he is. Donghyeok eases first a single finger inside you, then another. He leaves your lips to kiss down your throat and chest, kissing lower and lower, drawing down your body until his mouth is right there and he licks your clit.

You’re not sure if it’s just the experience of oral sex or if it’s because it’s Donghyeok, but your entire body lights up as he licks your clit, as he thrusts his fingers into you again. He takes his time with you, filling you with his fingers, curling them inside you and brushing a spot that makes you gasp, body jerking at the incredible sensation.

Donghyeok laughs, delighted by how you’re reacting. He kisses your hips and your belly, slowly works his way back up, and you swear it feels like he kisses every part of you. His fingers press inside your pussy, slow thrusts until you’re begging for more, raking your fingers through his hair while he’s kissing your belly. Your fingers find his horns, and you use them like handles to guide his head back down.

He’s laughing still, thoroughly enjoying you taking control, guiding him to where you want him.

You arch your back, rolling your hips down against his face as Donghyeok sucks your clit between his lips, his fingers suddenly fucking into you at a faster speed, skilled at touching you exactly right.

A second orgasm sweeps through you, and you ride it out on his face and fingers.

When you push at Donghyeok’s devil horns, he backs off, kneeling up between your legs, and he gazes down at you while he licks his lips, and brings his fingers up to his mouth. You can’t look away, completely enraptured as he licks between his fingers, as he sucks them into his mouth. His eyes are hot, raking over your body.

You want him bad.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Donghyeok asks, pulling his fingers out of his mouth. His hand drifts down to the front of his pants, and you watch him give himself a squeeze. “Looking like you want to eat me, baby.”

You want to take a bite out of him. Well, you at least can’t fight the urge to bite him, to leave the imprint of your teeth in the curve of his shoulder, to bite his neck again since he’d seemed to like that earlier. You don’t want to eat him, but you sure want to take all of him, to have this devil inside you.

Donghyeok slides the heel of his palm along his clothed erection, and you decide right then in that moment that you’ve had enough of waiting.

“I’m ready,” you tell him.

Donghyeok blinks, and again he looks more human than demon. “Ready? Like for… for sex?”

You nod.

“You want to lose your virginity with me?” Donghyeok clarifies. You nod, but that’s still not enough for him. “I need to hear you say it.”

“Donghyeok, please will you have sex with me. I’m ready to let go of the idea of my virginity. I’m ready to have sex, and I want it to be with you.” Can you be more clear?

Yes, you’ve waited a long time for this. You’ve picked and chosen, selecting this actual demon over some normal men. But despite Donghyeok’s demonhood, he’s treated you better and been more considerate than any of the men you’ve come close to considering doing this with before. You’ve just been waiting for the right man to come along, and the right man in this case just happens to be a horny, red-eyed demon.

Donghyeok kisses you once again, and then he waits, holding just above you until you reach up and pull him back in. He’s smiling when you kiss him, and again, he lets you take over, lets you touch him and do what you want. So when you run your hands along his ribs, when your fingertips reach the waistband of his jeans, Donghyeok just moans happily.

His hands join yours in the effort to push his pants down, and the demon above you laughs delightfully, kissing you thoroughly making you forget the slight nerves you feel at the prospect of finally doing this, finally having sex, instead you’re just excited, just laughing and moaning along with him.

As soon as Donghyeok’s pants are slid down and kicked off, you reach for his dick, touching him the way an ex-boyfriend of yours had liked. He’d always told you to make it all about him, taught you to do things the way that he liked.

“Wait,” Donghyeok says, “You don’t have to do all that. I’m already worked up for you, baby. You may think being a demon comes with supernatural endurance or something, but in this I’m no better than a human man. You’re gorgeous, and that makes me want to just…” He cuts himself off by kissing you, but you think you get what he means.

He finds you beautiful, and not only that, but beautiful enough that he feels at risk of cumming too fast if you keep touching him before he’s inside you.

“Then fuck me.” You whisper the words to his lips. “Take me as a virgin sacrifice, Donghyeok. Like I was meant to be.”

Donghyeok scoffs, kissing you again and then he’s moving. His hand brushes yours away from his dick, and he rolls his hips forward, pressing the tip against your entrance without actually entering you.

“Are you sure?”

“I find it beyond charming that you’re a polite, gentlemanly chaos demon, Donghyeok. Yes, I’m sure.” You shift your hips, circling them down, and Donghyeok’s dick sinks in.

He keeps going, pressing in deeper. He’s watching your face, and you hold his gaze while you adjust to the full feeling, the different feeling of having something this thick and deep inside you. Not a bad feeling, just a different kind.

“Don’t stop!” You gasp when Donghyeok just goes still inside you.

He holds himself above you, just looking down at you with this expression and all of these emotions in his red eyes.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You ask, lifting a hand up to cover his eyes, but it does nothing to block his radiant smile. “Are you gonna move or just dock yourself in me?”

Donghyeok laughs again, and you’re quickly realizing that’s your favorite sound. “Maybe I’m taking in your virgin sacrifice,” he teases, “Doing my demon thing.”

“Right, sure. But can you hurry up with your demon thing?” You move your hand from his eyes, pushing your fingers into his hair to find his horns again. Donghyeok shudders with pleasure as you stroke your fingers over the ridges on one horn and then the other. “You’re not acting very demonic, you know. Treating me all gently and tenderly.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. You’d rather I bend you into strange shapes and fuck you hard and rough for your first time?” Donghyeok pulls his hips back and pushes back in roughly. It stings a bit, but you don’t mind all that much. And then he does it again. “Like this?”

“Sure,” you whimper, “Fuck me like you’ve done to all the other girls you’ve ever fucked.”

Donghyeok simply kisses you, getting you to melt beneath his lips, and then he moves again, thrusting into you. You gasp into the kiss, and Donghyeok takes advantage of that to deepen the kiss, making out with you as he fucks you, his dick reaching places that you didn’t even realize existed. He’s got your legs spread wide, his hips crashing against you repeatedly, drawing pretty moans from you with each thrust against your sweet spot.

And once you get used to this new sensation of having a dick inside you, you really enjoy it. Donghyeok’s tongue being down your throat helps a bit too, his skill with kissing is definitely distracting you from the less pleasant sensations.

Your whole body tingles each time that Donghyeok buries himself to the hilt in you. He grinds forward, stimulating your clit, externally and internally. He touches your boobs, but that doesn’t do a whole lot for you. You keep your hands in his hair, on his horns, and that seems to drive him mad with lust; each time you’ve got your fingers on his black devil horns, Donghyeok jerks, fucking into you a little harder, a little out of control.

It’s one of those times that you’ve got a hand curled around one of his horns, your other hand cradling the back of his neck as Donghyeok kisses your collarbones, that he moans so beautifully for you. “Fuck,” he moans, “I want to give you everything, baby. Everything I’ve got, all for you.”

You want it, whatever that means. Whatever Donghyeok has, you’ll take it.

A moment later, he cums, heat flooding your belly, sticky and slick as he pulls out, streaking it across your inner thighs and your pussy.

“Everything, baby,” he murmurs, kissing along your collarbone to your right shoulder. He rolls his hips forward, filling you with his dick once more right as he kisses the sunflower mark he gave you that first night.

Fire ignited throughout your body, pleasure and desire tangling together, ramping up higher and higher. Your climax tears through you like a wildfire, and Donghyeok fucks you through it, hips driving against yours; his teeth dig against your shoulder, his tongue following to soothe the bitemark. You can only hold onto him, hold tighter, keep moving your body with his to keep the waves of pleasure coming.

Even once you’re coming down from your orgasm, your whole body is still tingling and warm. Donghyeok is all but stuck to you, both of you are all sweaty so your skin sticks together. His lips press to the sunflower mark he left on you, his hands slide against your ribs, leaving a hot tingle deep under your skin, and you have a feeling he’s leaving another mark, another claim or protection.

You can’t get a good look at the marks he’s left on you, but you can feel them all – the warmth of the sunflower on your shoulder, which you’re pretty sure looks a bit more yellow in the petals now than it did earlier; there are the hickeys and bitemarks Donghyeok left on you; now these new marks on your ribs, which look like a swirl of small inky spots that are resolving into anything familiar, and on the other side you swear it’s a fine-line rendition of the sun.

You wish you could do the same and leave a mark on him, more than the sparse hickeys you left on his throat earlier.

For right now, you settle for just holding him. You wrap your arms around him, and Donghyeok tucks his face into your shoulder, moaning softly as he rolls onto his side, bringing you with him. Your legs are still tangled, bodies pressed together, his dick still inside you though he’s gone soft.

“Call me crazy,” Donghyeok whispers to you, “I know we’ve only met twice before tonight, but I feel like we have a really good connection. I like you.”

Your heart races at the confession. “I like you too.”

You feel his lips curve into a smile against your skin. “Good. I’d hate for you to have just given up your virginity on a guy you don’t even like. A demon, at that.”

“It doesn’t bother me that you’re a demon yknow. You’re more decent than most of the guys I’ve known.” You trace your fingers down Donghyeok’s back, feeling two long angled scars by his shoulder blades, like that’s where his wings come and go from. “If anything, I don’t understand why a demon is interested in me.”

Donghyeok lifts his head, and he looks you in the eye as he says, “I told you earlier. You’re gorgeous, and the moment that asshole tried to sacrifice you to me, I caught a glimpse of your soul. You’re a pure soul, so utterly good that it pains me to look at you with all the layers peeled back, but not in a bad way. It hurts me the way it hurts to look at something you aspire toward; looking at you is like looking at the stars and knowing that you’ll never be able to hold one in your hand.”

But his hands are on you now.

His fingers trace over your ribs, and you can tell by the tingle now that he’s definitely left a new mark on you.

You take up his hand, pulling it up to your lips, and you place a kiss in the center of his palm. And when you look at his face, you see right there on his cheek that maybe. He’s closer to holding the stars than he thinks. You trace the constellation of moles on his cheek and down his throat, so similar to one that you see in the night sky.

Donghyeok leans his cheek into your hand, and he holds you a little closer. He presses his forehead to yours.

The candles behind you on the floor have burned down to nothing but puddles of cooling wax. The herbs and crystals and chalk symbols can be picked up and wiped away in the morning. But for tonight, you hold a demon in your arms, completely at ease in his warm embrace.

a/n: I'm sorry for the long wait on this one! Day 9 is finally being posted on Day 11, which has definitely put me behind, and is making me reconsider my decision to do this for this month. But I really liked writing this one! I've been very Haechan-biased since The Dream Show 3, so I needed to write this tbh.

If you notice any errors or if you feel I should include some more tags/content warnings, please let me know!

I hope you enjoyed! Reblogs are deserving of my eternal gratitude, likes are greatly appreciated, and your thoughts and comments are always welcome !

#haechan #haechan smut #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct #nct 127 #nct 127 smut

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giannaln4 · 6 months ago

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GIANNA'S KINKTOBER '24 SEASON

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⇢ ˗ˏˋ Kinktober day thirdteen.

Ass or Tits? (1.4k words)

summary: Who would’ve thought? Lando Norris is a tits guy.

warnings: NSFW, +18, smut, MDNI, unprotected sex.

You wouldn’t say it was a known fact that Lando was an ass guy, but some people knew this about him for some reason. That’s also what you thought when you first started dating, or the first few times you had sex, he would always pay special attention to your ass.

That was until one hot summer day you were wearing a dress that left very little to the imagination, resting so low on your cleavage that it nearly showed everything you had. You didn’t think it was doing your boobs a favour, but you had to admit they looked great, and your boyfriend agreed.

Since you came out of your room that morning wearing that dress, you caught him slightly eying your chest, which led him to be way more interested in your boobs, not only for the rest of the day, but any time he had a chance; nothing too obvious, but you could tell he was constantly thinking about it. You didn’t want to acknowledge it, wanting to save him from embarrassment, but you decided to tease him one day, “Hey, my eyes are up here.”

His eyes widened and his face turned red right away “I wasn’t looking." He said, shaking his head and making you laugh.

But you now knew how much he loved them, since it became a common occurrence that any time you had sex, his hands would constantly land there. Now, instead of grabbing and squeezing your ass, he would give all his attention to your boobs; staring when they bounced on top of him, playing with one as the other one had a mouth wrapped around it; it was anything, really, so from that moment you decided to take it further, not in an evident way but just enough for him to notice.

It started with tank tops when it was too hot outside, and you would purposefully lean over in front of him or cross your arms to show a little more. At first he didn’t know what you were doing; he was honestly enjoying the view, but as soon as the weather started to change and you were still wearing low-cut shirts and dresses, he started to get suspicious.

He kept it to himself though, not wanting to make an accusation like that until he was completely sure. Until one day his suspicions were confirmed when, while you were cuddling in his hotel room, you pulled him closer to you, making him rest closer to where your chest was.

He smirked and finally said, “I know what you’re doing." He sat up and turned to look at you with accusatory eyes.

“What do you mean?” You replied innocently, shrugging your shoulders and looking at him expectantly.

“You don’t know what I’m talking about?” He asked in a lower voice, weirdly making you get a little excited.

You shook your head and kept your innocent gaze, but you knew exactly where this was going.

“Why don’t you tell me how cold it’s outside?" Lando pulled you up and guided your body to his lap, hands caressing your thighs once you were comfortably sitting on him. “Mhm?” He hummed when he got no response.

You looked out of the window and were met with a cloudy sky. The sun was long gone, and the dark day threatened with rain instead. “It looks warm to me.”

“Really? Cause I think it’s too cold for you to be wearing these tiny dresses, and yet here you are." His hands were running up and down your body, squeezing your sides every now and then. “Wanna tell me why?”

“I’m not cold,” you responded, not giving in. His smirk grew bigger at the game you were playing. It was only a matter of time until he caught up to your intentions. Usually, you would be wearing many layers at the smallest hint of a cold day, which hasn’t been the case since your little discovery.

He looked down at your breasts and quickly looked back at you. “So these have nothing to do with your outfit choices?” You shook your head once again, this time biting your lip as you waited for him to do something.

“Why? Are you getting distracted?”

“Do you want me to? Is that what you have been trying to do all this time?” He questioned, his hands travelling closer and closer to your heat. “Is this what you want?”

You let out a shaky breath, grabbing a handful of his shirt. He repeated the question, and this time, you were quick to nod, growing a little desperate.

“Turn around,” he demanded. You happily complied, quickly getting up from his lap and collapsing back on it, with your back now pressing against his strong chest, giving him full access to your boobs. “Poor baby, putting up with the cold weather just to show off your boobs.”

He was whispering next to your ear, his hands now finding your desperate breasts. He slowly started to take off your dress, your hot skin making him hard by the second. You allowed him to undress you and slightly started to move your hips, creating a little friction, but he made you stop.

“Not so fast." He was taking his time, kissing your shoulder while one of his hands played with your boobs and the other with your clothed clit. At this point, you were a whimpering mess, but God, you needed more, so when Lando finally lifted you up a little to pull down his own pants and underwear, you let out an excited but desperate moan.

He didn’t even bother to get rid of your panties, just moving them to the side enough to slide his cock into you. You both let out a loud moan, not even considering keeping it down so the people next to your room wouldn’t hear you.

You quickly set the perfect pace; you were sinking into him while he grabbed both of your boobs, slightly squeezing them as his fingers played with your nipples from time to time, and you loved it. “Is this what you wanted?” He asked, his voice low and raspy from the pleasure he was feeling, and you frantically nodded.

One of your hands was holding onto his forearm for dear life as your other one travelled down your body to rub soft circles on your clit; you knew you wouldn’t last long, suddenly feeling hyperaware of where his hands were resting.

You tried to chase your orgasm by increasing the pace, but your legs were getting so tired that you were struggling. He noticed this, so he decided to help you; his hips stated thrusting up in you to meet you half way as his hands used his hold on your boobs to guide your movements, the added pressure making you moan.

“I didn’t know your boobs enjoyed the attention this much, my love. Do you like it when I hold you like this?” He asked, biting your shoulder. You nodded in response, your moans becoming louder the closer you got. “Come on, sweetheart. I know you are close.”

Your bouncing became sloppier as you felt your orgasm coming, walls squeezing him with every snap of your skin. “I’m- so close.” You mumbled, making him thrust into you harder.

It only took a flicker of your nipple to push you over the edge, your body shaking in pleasure against him as he chased his own orgasm. Both your hands were now holding onto him as your head fell on his shoulder, feeling his cock hit your g-spot over and over again; it felt like too much.

After a few more thrusts, you could feel the hot liquid spill inside your pussy, his head falling back in pure ecstasy as his movements came to a stop.

Lando collapsed back on the bed, pulling you with him so you relaxed against his chest. Both of you stayed there trying to catch your breath, his now softening cock still buried in you as his hands carresed your naked torso.

“Who would’ve thought? Lando Norris is a tits guy.” You whispered after a few minutes of silence.

He couldn’t contain his laugh, your words making him go back to get a hold of your boobs again. “Can’t help it, baby. Have you seen these?” He said as he gave them a squeeze, your lips setting into a subtle smirk. “Now, why don’t you ride me so I can get a full view of your pretty tits? Mhm?”

↺ back to navigation — Kinktober masterlist

#giannaln4 kinktober #lando norris #lando norris x reader #ln4 #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris smut #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris oneshot #lando norris one shot #ln4 fluff #ln4 fic #ln4 imagine #f1 #formula 1 #giannaln4 writes

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madamechrissy · 23 days ago

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Baby You're No Good

Pairings - Cult leader/clan Leader Geto x F! reader

Summary - You have been promised to marry the psychotic, human hating leader of the Geto Clan, Suguru. Your heart sinks at the wedding when you realize you're likely to be ended once you've fulfilled your duty, giving him an heir. He detests you on sight, as do you, but something happens the first time you lay together, Suguru swears you're some witch, because he can't get enough of you. He becomes consumed with fucking you, with the excuse of 'having an heir' but you begin to wonder just where the lines are blurring. Would you survive this- and will Suguru survive being with you?

CW- This is a VERY angsty, please do NOT READ if you want the Geto (alt ending) this is how it was always supposed to go but I will have the happy version in a couple days. Heavy angst, reader is injured, mentions of pregnancy, reader has a baby, bittersweet and emotional, explicit sex (not with Geto) oral (f receiving) and longing/yearning. I cried 10 times so be aware lol WC this part- 7.7k

This version is does NOT END Sugu/Reader- the alt ending will! This is a Gojo/reader/ambiguous end. SKIP IT if you want the Geto end.

<<<Part Four - Playlist - Masterlist - Happy ending/alt end

Sad asf /Baby it's NO Good Ending

Satoru lifts you up into his arms effortlessly, tired students and sorcerers retreat tentatively, Suguru’s curses dissolve as if they weren’t there, all while your unconscious body lolls in Satoru’s arms. Suguru is speaking to his cult quickly, ordering them to stop and retreat for now, while Satoru waits, staring at your face now, looking so oddly peaceful for what happened.

Satoru had a feeling this would happen, and he hates himself for knowing it and bringing you anyway, but you were okay with it - willing even - to save everyone, he admires it about a girl he hardly knows. To put yourself and a baby in danger to reach out to Suguru, it shows just who you are, it’s easy to see how much Suguru has fallen, when Satoru never thought he would.

Suguru finally walks up, glaring at Satoru’s hold with eyes gone black, swiping blood off his cheek as he walks toward him now. “I can carry my wife.”

“You’ve really done such a great job taking care of her so far. I’ll carry her, I don’t trust you not to disappear and Shoko is the only one I trust helping her.”

“Tch, you think I don’t even want to help her?”

“Why? You left her.” Suguru snatches you up, and you hang so limply he feels sick, sighing in anguish as he looks at your listless body. “Now.”

Suguru never thought he’d listen to Satoru, but he does, following him now into Shoko’s medical set up, her brows raise as she sees Suguru for the first time in almost nine years, he notices how exhausted she is, all of the fun energy he remembers sapped away. He falters a moment, before carrying you inside, Satoru shuts the heavy door with an echoing bang.

“What’s happened?” Suguru delicately lays your unconscious frame, as Shoko sets to feeling your pulse.

“Energy blast from… one of my men.” Suguru gulps down it all, the fact that it’s even worse, that you were hurt by one of his by mistake.

He wants to kill that man right now.

“She’s pregnant.” Satoru mentions, as if it were so casual, and Shoko sighs now, nodding.

“Can’t be far along, she’s not showing.”

“Five weeks.” Suguru answers, quietly, as Shoko raises her hands now, and shuts her eyes, dark hair falling a bit over her shoulders.

“I can’t guarantee it will be okay, but I can save her.” Suguru’s heart shatters at her words, looking as the reverse curse technique starts working over you with the incandescent light.

“It’s all your fault. Why’d you fucking bring her here!?” Suguru walks up to Satoru now, smacking a hand as he brushes your hair a bit off your sleeping face, earning a glare behind white bandages.

“She asked to come.”

Suguru pauses. Are you that reckless?

“I told her no at first, but I thought she’d be the only thing to bring you to any of your fucking senses, have you stop killing my students, our friends.”

“I don’t have any fucking friends.”

Shoko scoffs, eyeing him with tired eyes now. “You did.”

“It’s not you all I wanted to eliminate, you simply chose to defend them, the weak, pathetic…” He can’t say it anymore, what he called them, what he called you.

“Weren’t you the one who said it’s our job to protect the weak?” Satoru’s voice is quiet now, reminding him of just that, the time he felt that way, naive and young.

“You continue to lose all your comrades and friends, Satoru you may be the strongest but it’s not worth it - without them, there are no more curses.”

“It’s not your choice to change how the world is. You’ve gone so far, the only person I’ve ever seen you love since you… changed… is here.” Satoru’s words nearly make him fall over with the pain, the grief, looking at your still unconscious body, as Shoko focuses harder.

“Please just save her.” He whispers now, and Satoru slips off his blindfold completely, blue eyes seeing right through him.

“You did this. If she doesn’t make it, it’s because of you.”

“I fucking know that!” Suguru shoves Satoru now, which merely earns a tired, sad little smile, while he grips his wrist before he lets Suguru strike him. “I know it, okay? I don’t even… fucking deserve her. I know it.” He’s close to tears as he shoves off Satoru, covering his face before he looks back at you.

It’s gone too far, god it’s all gone too far, hasn’t it?

How can he live with himself after what he’s done to you. He places a hand on yours, you don’t grip it how could you, limp and weak fingers, exhausted face growing just a little brighter. You’re exhausted from him, from the stress - god he left you in his bed, alone, naked and gleaming from your lovemaking.

Love making, it was love making.

You were his everything, and not once did he let you get treated or shown that way, what was just one time of worshipping your body when he didn’t worship or appreciate your soul? Your mind, your wishes, he barely knew you truly - he never gave you a chance to listen.

He hates himself.

He was going to kill them all, for a better world, but to lose the only important thing to him, in a room with two people who loved him?

What has he done?

“It’s not working.” He says then, worried as Shoko sighs, shaking her head.

“I need more time with her, her body is already in a rough state.”

“What rough state!?”

“She has a weak will, and she needs to have some will to make it through this.”

A weak will, because of him, he fucking knows it too- it’s all him that did this, that caused it, he wants to blame Satoru for putting you in danger, but it’s ultimately his fault. You begged him to stay despite having been forced into this, despite the horrible things he said and did to you, despite it all you still asked him. You still tried to break through, almost meeting your end.

You awaken suddenly with a gasp, sitting up, staring at an unfamiliar but pretty face of a woman in scrubs, a stethoscope around her neck. She smiles gently, you feel two men’s hands on you, Satoru’s holding one hand, Suguru the other, both staring up at you now.

“I’m sorry I put you in harm.” Satoru’s words are full of remorse, one of his eyes staring up at you, glimmering. “It was the only way but…”

“It’s okay. I chose to, it was the right thing.” He exhales in relief, as you look to Suguru now, torn between anger, relief and fear. “Suguru…”

“I ended the battle.” It’s all relief now, as you clutch him tightly, and all the love in your eyes makes him even more sick, how could you love him?

“It worked.”

“It was foolish, reckless-”

“You are not about to lecture her right now on being reckless.” Suguru scowls at Satoru’s words.

“Let’s talk while Shoko checks her out.” Suguru’s words are surprisingly soft, a way you’ve only heard a couple times, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

Satoru and Suguru walk to the other end of the enormous room, footsteps echoing while Shoko murmurs softly. “I’m Ieri.”

“Thank you for… saving me, Ieri.” Your own quiet name makes her smile a bit, as she looks at Satoru and Suguru. “They were your friends, weren’t they?”

“Hmm, I guess they were. Let me check this heart rate, okay?” You nod, eyeing the two quiet men, as your disoriented mind and sore body process what happened.

“I know you owe me no favors, Satoru… but can I ask for one?” Satoru frowns now, leaning against the wall, as you sit up with Shoko’s help and speak quietly.

“You stopped the attack, if you’re willing to give this up, I’ll do you any favor.” He says, making Suguru sigh.

He doesn’t deserve you.

He doesn’t deserve Satoru.

He deserves no happiness for what he’s done, the horror in your eyes, the fear of the unknown, the baby just barely growing that surely would not survive with him near you. You look at him across the room, with those sad, broken eyes - he’d never made you happy, not once - yet you truly tried. You begged him to fucking stay and what did he do, what did he cause?

“I am taking Mimiko and Nanako far away.” Satoru’s blue eyes widen now.

“And your wife, yes?

“No.”

“Suguru, are you fucking serious, what more does the girl have to do to be with you!? She almost died to save you, not just everyone.” Satoru’s voice is a hushed whisper, eyes narrowed.

“That’s just it, I’m no good for her, or the baby if it… makes it. Chances are with me and how devastated I make her, it won't.”

“Suguru, she will forgive you.” Satoru puts a hand on his former best friend’s shoulder, coated in blood, and Suguru doesn’t shove it off, he takes a breath instead, shaking his head.

“She will, and so will you, but I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve her and I never did.”

“So become the man she needs, you’re not too-”

Suguru laughs harshly, taking Satoru’s hand off now, holding it for a moment, a million memories of their friendship falling as his hand falls. “Both of you make excuses, but I see what I did to her.”

“She’ll be okay, Shoko-”

“She’ll never be okay. Satoru, I have to ask you…”

“Don’t. Don’t you fucking run, seriously!?” Suguru yanks him out of the room, out of your earshot now, Satoru crosses his arms, as the door echoes in the cold empty halls of the abandoned building they’d shielded Shoko in.

“Take care of her.” At Suguru’s broken words, tears feeling once cold eyes, Satoru falters, lips parting. “Take care of the baby if it… makes it.”

He glares, shoving at his old friend, who’s too down to not let him budge with the movement, forlorn look on his face. “You take care of them, become better.”

Suguru shakes his head. “I can’t face her. I can’t face what I’ve done, I need to go. Far, far away.”

“For how long!?”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever come back. I know it’s a lot to ask - but I also know I can trust you to take care of her.” Satoru’s furious, not at the thought of taking care of you, but the fact that Suguru is running, that he still even now can’t accept love. “You will take care of her better than I could.”

“You think you’re doing the right thing, but you’re not. She chose to come here, can’t you give her a chance?” Suguru peers through the door window, the thick pane of glass, sighing and touching it longingly, while Shoko checks your vitals.

“Please, for the friendship we had, take care of her. The girl I love.” Satoru’s own emotions make his throat close, while Suguru realizes just how deeply he loves you, more than he even could admit. But he didn’t choose you, no matter how deeply you begged him to, no he left you alone in that bed.

He can’t forgive himself for it.

He is not sure he cares about any other casualties, he wishes he did care more for that - he still sees humans as pests, he does not share Satoru’s view and maybe never will. But you so clearly need him to, and he realizes he’s too far in his own hatred still, you were that exception, that bright spot. You were the one regret he now holds, and he knows he loves you enough to let you go.

“Please look after her for me, Satoru.”

“Jesus christ, Suguru.” He swipes a hand through his long white hair, looking at you in that room, sighing. “Of course I will take care of her and the baby. But it should not be me.”

“Thank you.” Suguru puts his hand on Satoru’s shoulder, and for a moment Satoru sees him - the best friend he ever had, making what he thinks is the best decision for a girl he loves. He loves and feels, still deep down, and something breaks Satoru down then. “I went too far.”

He scoffs at that, sighing. “Understatement of the century. I will not tell her goodbye for you, though. You need to at least explain your stupid decision.”

Satoru walks back into the room, looking down at you now, you’re weak but alive, and he still senses two energies with his powerful six eyes. He gently holds out his hands, and you take them, using his help to stand, shaky now. “Are you feeling okay, sweets?”

“I’m okay.” You nod a smile just a bit, turning to Shoko. “Thank you so much.”

“Of course. We’ll… give you two a moment.” She reads the room clearly, Satoru and Shoko have known each other so long it really just takes a look.

You watch curiously as they walk out, and Suguru has tears in his violet eyes, something you never thought you’d see, his face so serious and sullen it makes you panic. “Did they say the baby-”

“No, no, for now it all looks fine. Shh.” He pulls you against his strong chest, and you fall apart, sobbing now, shaking your head and shoving at him. “I know.”

“You know!? You know? You left me. You chose this over me.” You pull back, furious, chest heaving with the quickness of your breaths, your own cheeks covered in your tears now.

“I did. And that’s why I’m no good for you.”

You pause now, gasping. “What!?”

“It was selfish, so selfish not to let you run when you wanted to.” You’re shaking as he cups your face, thumb tracing your cheek, brushing aside the onslaught of tears, exhaling and leaning low. “I almost killed you.”

“You didn’t almost kill me, you almost killed everyone! Suguru, I’m fine.”

“Tch, are you!?” His grip on your waist draws you closer, while your head falls back, and you stare into a monster’s eyes - a monster you love. “Are you fine? You almost died.”

“I chose to come here, you can’t blame Satoru when I begged him to bring me. I had to try to save them, those innocent people!”

“It worked.”

You sigh, shaking further, burying your face against his chest, he’s covered in sweat and grime and blood from the battle, but you don’t care. “Are you done with this foolish effort?”

“I’m done.” You look up in shock, cupping his face now, and he leans so low, until your breaths mingle, hand shaking as it holds you.

“Thank God. Oh Suguru, thank God.” You pull him down for a kiss, full of all the relief in your heart. You’ve saved him, everyone is okay - glimpses of hope and something beautiful fill you with a light you’ve never had. He kisses you back so deeply, exhaling against your lips, deepening it and pulling you so tightly, his hard body enveloping yours.

“I should have told you.” He whispers, pulling back, lips almost against yours, nose brushing against yours.

You gulp, throat dry, in so much fear of what he’s going to say, what he’s going to do. “Told me what?”

“I love you. Fuck I love you, love when you hit me, love when you called me out, love the fire inside you.” His declaration makes your heart shatter, you want to be happy, but you feel it - his apprehension, his fear.

“Suguru…”

“I love you and don't deserve you.”

You glare now. “Don’t you do this, don’t you run.”

“Baby, this is how I can show how much I love you.” He cups your face with two big hands and long fingers, you’re glaring through your tears, gripping his wrists.

“Don’t you dare.” You whisper, teeth clenched, you feel it then, you feel him pushing you away, when he’s just close enough.

“Satoru will take care of you both, better than I could, he’ll be good to you-”

“What!? You’re shoving me off on your fucking friend?” You shove at his chest now, but he doesn’t budge, even as you smack at it, he doesn’t move, doesn’t let go of his grip. “If you love me you’ll run away with me, we can start over.”

The desperation in your voice tempts him to no end, god he’d love it, but he knows how much you’d suffer, always. “I am leaving, starting over.”

“Not with me?” Your hurt pours through every word, and Suguru wants to bring you, god he does, but he knows it so clearly - he could never make you happy.

“You’ll be better off this way. You and the baby.”

“Bullshit, it’s such bullshit Suguru!”

“It’s the truth, I love you enough to finally do this.” He brushes your hair back tenderly, you smack his hand scowling up at him.

“You don’t get to do that, you don’t get to abandon me after not choosing me - just to not choose me again!”

“It’s not that,” your sobs wrack your body, as he steps back, brushing back his tangled dark locks. “I am choosing your happiness.”

“Why can’t it be with you?” Your broken whisper makes his heart break, but he loves you so much, he just knows.

This is right.

“I can’t look you in those beautiful eyes and know what pain I caused, I can’t have you looking at the monster I am.”

“You’re my fucking monster, okay? Mine!” You shove him again, he just sighs, defeated. “I love you Suguru Geto. I do, despite it all, despite how completely fucked in the brain you were, I love you dammit. You can’t just leave me now, like I’m some damn pet you can’t take care of. I love-”

He’s slammed his lips again, desperate and hungry, and you fall into him, as his kisses grow more and more ardent, pulling back just to take a breath, hand slipping up your spine. The contact alone makes you shiver, tongue meeting his stroke for stroke, so much emotion in this one kiss you wish it would last forever, fingers clinging to the silk of his robes.

“Don’t do this. I can only forgive so much.” He sighs at that, as you’re sniffling, eyes fucking burning.

“You’ll thank me one day, if we meet again - how happy you’ll be without me.” He breaks away then, as you crumble, holding your stomach while the sobs seem fucking endless.

“Don’t leave me, please, not again, I can’t take it.” He looks back at you as he stands by that door, pulled between being selfish and selfless.

But only for a moment.

“I’ll love you till I take my last breath. You’re not just human, you are the most special thing that’s existed.” You collapse to the floor while he walks out, the world collapsing around you, the hope you had for just a moment crushed.

He will never choose you.

“Suguru go the fuck back in there, stop feeling sorry for yourself, what are you doing to that girl?” Satoru shoves at him then, but Suguru knows it, he can’t live with himself let alone be with you, cause you pain, ruin you further.

“A moment of pain in order to be free of me. She thinks she’s in love with me now, but it’s because of her being trapped. She just thinks she does, but I don’t deserve it, not worthy of it.”

“You don’t think you deserve it, so earn it. Just stop this bullshit.”

“Satoru, thank you for not… giving up. But I can’t live with what I did, seeing it in her eyes every day. Please, just care for her.” Satoru glares and crosses his arms.

“Running away. You’re just running away.”

“Good bye, Satoru.” Suguru is gone, just like that, leaving Satoru to punch the wall in anger, and of course it starts crumbling with his strength, you gasp out in shock at the sound and he curses, resting his head for a moment.

He almost had his best friend back.

He walks in to see you so small and helpless in the big room on the floor, holding yourself in a hug, devastating to look at, when your eyes meet his. Satoru walks up to you then, sitting right on the ground, his legs crossed, brushing his fingers comfortingly against your shoulder. You’re shaking so badly, skin hot to the touch, he can even hear how fast your heart was.

“Sit up, sweetheart.” You do it with his help, you feel weak and devastated beyond repair, while he pulls you against his chest, holding you to him, letting you cry against his dark jacket, rubbing your back up and down.

“You don’t have to take care of me, S-satoru okay, I c-can do it alone. I have family that may understand-”

“No.” His word is firm, precise, you tilt your head up and look into brilliant blue eyes, lips pressed together. “I promised him and I won’t break it.”

“I’ll just be some burden to you. It’s bullshit, him leaving, bullshit.”

“Yeah. I know. But I will take care of you. Okay?” You shake your head, sniffling now. “I will.”

“I believe you, but how could he? After… I told him I loved him.” Satoru tenderly brushes your cheek, swiping some of your tears.

“He doesn’t believe he deserves it from either of us.”

“Do you think he’ll come back?” Satoru sighs.

“I don’t know. But for now, come on.” He stands carefully, picking your still weak body in his arms.

“I can walk.”

“You’re stubborn, aren’t you?” Your lips barely twitch, as you hold onto his neck.

“I guess so. I’m sorry you’re just stuck with-”

“Shh, it’s fine. Let’s get you somewhere you can rest.”

*****

One year later

You lay your little girl Noa down in her crib for the night, smiling as you touch her precious cheek, and Satoru leans in the doorway, smiling at the two of you. Her dark locks resemble her father, but aside from that she’s a spitting image of you. You look up at Satoru as you put a finger to your lips, signaling for him to be quiet, and he crooks his two fingers, asking you to come out.

“You can have a little wine now, she’s on formula mostly now, right?” He murmurs, as he takes your hand in his, and you pause - because it feels too good lately. God, he looks too good, after a year of living with him, having him hold you, hold your baby.

Satoru was literally her father, he helped you constantly, and you never paid for a thing, despite your frequent protests. Satoru went above and beyond anything you assumed when he promised Suguru that day - and the two of you have never talked to him since. The last Satoru found out, he moved to another country with the two girls, and the rest of the cult silently disbanded.

You miss Suguru every day, but Satoru slowly fills the void, the huge black hole he left when he abandoned you that day, and though you’ll always love Suguru Geto, as well Satoru, clearly, you also feel more and more for the man taking care of you. Even though you’ve fought it, for months after the baby it changed, how attractive you find him, hating yourself for it.

How can you pine away for a man never coming back?

But how can you move on after a love like that?

But you don’t realize Satoru can’t stop craving you, aching for you - also feeling fucking horrible. Suguru asked him to take care of you, and it was like he knew he would also grow to love you, but for different reasons than Suguru. He loves how funny, sarcastic and sweet you are. He loves how much you adore your little girl, and he loves her too.

He loves how you smile, how your cheeks get warm when he presses a friendly kiss on them, how the lights hit your pretty face. How sweet your scent is, how easy it is to be with you. Cooking together, taking care of Noa, just existing, you bring peace he didn’t know existed, as Satoru feels like a real home to you.

Satoru can’t imagine not coming home to the two of you, sometimes missions can last weeks, but you’re ready with a perfect meal and his favorite dessert. You’re always so happy when he comes home, hugging him tightly. The two of you hold each other, talking about Suguru at times, and how much you miss him, how much Satoru misses him.

Once last week you were crying, he had you against his chest, tilting your chin up, whispering the sweetest words. You felt all those body changes, the stretch marks, the extra skin, but he told you - ‘you’re gorgeous, okay?’ and you’d faltered, you almost kissed him, if not for your little girl crying.

You both had avoided each other that night after, he’d blushed furiously, as had you, but that was when something shifted, and the need grew more and more. Now looking at your joined hands, longing breaks through, but along with that so much confusion.

Could you be with someone else?

His best friend, that he left you with, did Suguru… expect this? Or would he be devastated, or would he even care? Did he keep tabs on you and the daughter he abandoned - for what he felt were the right reasons - or was it something he shoved far back. At times you were furious at Suguru for it, at times distraught, but sometimes you realize your life has become happy.

“Sorry…” Satoru pulls back now, that pink on his high cheeks again, but you take his hand back, shaking your head.

“I can drink a little wine, I’d enjoy some.” You smile and he exhales in relief, leading you down just one set of his elegant staircase. Satoru lived in a whole mansion honestly. But it still felt homey, it wasn’t like Suguru’s…

Suguru.

You loved him.

He left you.

And the man across from you pouring wine in your glass is beautiful, with his soft sweater and freshly washed hair, tousled just so, blue eyes soft as they study you carefully, you’re falling more, day by day. It’s not the insane madness, the brutal craziness of Suguru, it was something soft and sweet and beautiful.

“Want to watch our show?” He asks, and you nod, taking the glass from his fingers, they softly brush each other, sending trembles through the both of you, while your eyes lock, fingers staying there a moment too long. “Taste it.”

You take a breath, putting the sweet red wine to your lips, moaning at how good it is, a little drop on the corner of your mouth that he swipes away gently. You pause, as he stands there, leaning low, the huge house so quiet, your heart pounding in your chest, blood rushing to your head.

“Sorry.” He says again, clearing his throat, but you set the glass down, stepping up to him, so close, too close. Satoru’s hands ache to touch you, his lips die to touch yours. “Everything okay?”

“No. It’s not.” You sigh, hands slipping up his soft sweater, under that material, touching his bare chest and feeling it tense, a soft growl from his throat, when his hand entangles in your hair then.

“Keep touching me like that, and I will lose it.” His firm words, when he’s usually so sweet, just make you more excited, tummy flipping, clenched with desire.

“Lose what?” You touch him again, and his breath quickens, as he leans even lower, stepping you back, bit by bit, lips so close while you’re being pressed until the back of your knees hit the couch.

“The control. I can’t take you touching me.” He grips your wrists, and you turn him then, pressing him on the couch, straddling him, he gasps, as your own control fades to nothing. “You’re pushing me around, huh?”

“Maybe I am, Toru.” The nickname ruins him, as your lips crash against his, for the first time - and it feels far too good.

You never knew if you’d feel good again, the endless nights of crying for the man that left you, not once but twice, that put so much ahead of you, only to not even choose his baby, his friend, you. But you don’t hold resentment, no you still love that man, the one who ran from you all, but you feel good, Satoru’s lips are perfect, and for once you can let it go.

Just in this moment, let it all go, nothing but how perfect Satoru’s tongue feels against yours, as he’s so gently holding back. You’re grinding on him, earning his throaty moan, soaking wet when you feel his length, god you want him. You can’t stop it anymore, wanting the man who does everything for you and Noa, despite knowing how deeply connected he is to Suguru.

“God, I’ve wanted you,” Satoru’s kissing up your neck, as a hand grips your breast so gently, like he’s scared to hurt you, lips hovering on the shell of your ear now. “Tell me to stop, tell me I’m a bad friend.”

You shake your head, taking a breath. “You’re not, look at how good you take care of…. mmm, us… ah!” He’s nipped your ear with his teeth, moaning as he does, the sound igniting something inside you laid dormant.

“He shouldn’t have asked me.” He pulls back, a serious look on his face. “Now I’ve fallen, and fuck if I can stop if we go any further.”

You cup his face now, arching your hips just so, making him whimper softly, snowy lashes lowered as your heat hits him, rushing across his cock in those sweats now. His hands slip down to them, as he presses kisses on your breasts, swollen just a bit still from the baby, tempting him to no end.

“I’ve only… with him.” He pauses, blinking up at you in surprise, and you feel yourself flustered at admitting it.

“Shit that makes it worse for me to do.”

“It’s not… I… just wanted to tell you. I’m not the most experienced at certain things.” He nods then, swallowing, pressing up and watching your head fall back, making him throb harder with need.

“It’s been a year for me, so it’s been a bit, okay?” You blink in shock.

“You haven’t with…”

“How can I?” You’re kissing him more desperately now, feeling your body respond to every touch, every kiss, every brush.

“Please.” Your whisper ruins Satoru, he’s felt himself lose the will to stop, to rationalize it, but he can’t find rationale with you.

“Then we take it slow for you.” He lifts you off him, laying your back on that couch now, fingers trailing so delicately, it’s not rough, angry, brutal, it’s like he’s softly mapping your body, inch by inch, until he runs them up your thigh, parting them. “But make your decision, sweetheart, I won’t be able to stop.” His desperation is felt with every quick breath of yours, cunt growing slicker.

“I want you, Satoru… I have for… a long time.” He exhales, sliding down your body, sweet kisses on your thighs, thumb pressing your panties, and you cry out, covering your face then.

“She can’t hear you from down here, let go. Feel.” He’s kissing your thighs higher, hungrier as he slips down your shorts, tossing them, lapping at your soaked panties with his tastebuds, while blue eyes look up under hooded lids.

“Satoru!” You’re gripping his hair, so tightly it hurts, while he tastes it, the sweetness he’s been dying to for most of the time you’ve lived here. He fought it, so hard, but how can he not want you? When you look like that, feel like that, taste like this, it’s making him fucking feral, losing his strong control. “Sorry!”

“No, pull it.” He pulls your panties aside, studying your pretty pussy, you shyly almost cover your tummy a bit when he pauses you. “You’re beautiful, you were beautiful pregnant too.”

“Oh I, ah!” He’s parted them now, pressing a kiss to your bare, glistening cunt, and your body relaxes, while his hand covers your tummy.

“I thought it was so sexy pregnant, couldn’t say it.” He shakes his head, while tears of emotion and desire fill, he makes you feel so beautiful, so desired then.

The only time Suguru had done that was the last time.

One last time.

It feels so far away, so different, but you feel it in your heart - you love Satoru, you still love Suguru - fuck, Satoru loves Suguru still. But you both have to finally let him go, just a bit, and together you both do, as he’s delving into your slick, gummy walls with his long, talented tongue, all while studying you, so careful, watching every movement of your body.

There are no ‘i hate yous’ and there is no anger.

You just want him, and want him so badly.

You hate yourself for it, but at the same time, you deserve to feel loved, to feel happy, devoted as Satoru worships you, freely. He’s flicking his tongue on your clit in quick, sure flicks, as his long fingers sink in your eager cunt, hitting your g spot with just enough pressure you feel your orgasm taking you over.

“Satoru, oh my god I’m…”

“Cum, let me sip you sweetheart, that’s it.” He encourages softly, and you do, gushing all over his pretty face, he kisses you then, your taste swathed on his lips, desperate as you slip off his pants, stroking his thick, long cock, watching him whine over you. “Are you still sure?” He asks once more, tip against your entrance.

“I want this.” He exhales in relief, a hand entwining with yours as he sinks inside of you, no pain just a delicious fucking stretch, that has you screaming out, so loud he kisses you.

“Maybe not that loud, hmm?” He smirks, and you giggle - fuck you giggle all the time with him, don’t you? A far cry from the sad, depressed girl you were.

“Sorry, f-feels s’good…” He moans now, feeling your walls grip his cock, and he can’t take it, shoving your thighs up high, you gasp as he does, sinking deeper, tip against your cervix. He’s slow, letting you feel every fucking inch, as you spasm around him so close again.

“I’d love to put a baby in you, don’t you see, I’m horrible.” He rests his head on yours as his huge hands press up your thighs, and you gasp, clinging to the couch desperately as he works you. “I want all of you. I shouldn’t.”

He shouldn’t, right?

But how can he not.

He loves you.

With every stroke, kiss and whisper, you fall apart, dropping the last of your barriers for him, feeling the peak closer and closer. “You want that, Satoru?”

“God yes. You are so p-pretty pregnant, fuck… I shouldn’t have thought all those things…”

“Tell me.” Your whisper ends him, he’s slamming his cock, covering your mouth as your eyes roll back.

“Wanted you then, tits swollen, tummy so full, all I could think of was how I wanted to suck these pretty nipples, drink up all that milk from them.” He lets your thighs fall, they squeeze his hips, when he kisses a breast, bowing his back to do so, and your hands press into his strong biceps, as you whine out. “I’ve wanted you, sweetheart. Now I want you to cum on me.”

You’re done, with one more roll of his hips, you’re cumming so hard you can’t keep quiet, he’s gotta put that hand back on your mouth, watching your eyes roll back in your skull. He whispers as the orgasm rides over you ‘that’s it, sweets, there you go, so pretty’ as he presses kisses, letting you cum down, until he fills you up himself, so much cum.

He hasn’t been with anyone in a year.

How could he be, when you lived here?

You’re cumming with him again, tears falling as you kiss him, and he pulls back, frowning with worry. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

“I’m just really happy, Satoru.” Your tremulous smile ends him, and soon you’re in his bed, in his arms as he presses kisses on your shoulder. He sighs, addressing the silent thoughts while you both stare out his window at the night sky.

“Do you think he knew I’d fall in love with you?” You frown a bit, looking back at him now, your hand tightening over his.

“I don’t know. But Satoru, I love you too.” He kisses you softly, nuzzling your noses together. “You still love Suguru.”

“And so do you.” You nod then, and he swallows a bit, smiling now. “That’s okay, it’s okay to still love him.”

“Even though he’s an emo bitch?” Satoru snorts, as do you, through your emotions.

“Even though he’s emo enough for a whole 2006 band by himself.”

“With a god complex.”

“Well… I have that too.”

“I have curious taste.” He chuckles, and you turn in his embrace, brushing his soft white locks back, kissing him again, until the two of you fall back into each other, the entire night.

*****

Two years since you saw or heard from Suguru Geto

Suguru swallows nervously as he knocks on his old friend’s door - wondering if you still lived there. He was sure Satoru moved you in, why wouldn’t he? He knows you were in good hands, surely, but finally, he feels it - the draw to come back. He doesn’t expect you to forgive him, but he wants to see you, and to see his child for the first time.

He wonders, was it a boy or girl?

The door opens, and he expects his friend, only to have to look down at that face that’s haunted his dreams, his thoughts for two years. Your eyes are wide when you see him, as if you’ve seen a fucking ghost, and maybe he was to you, your mouth open wide as he hears giggling, tinkling like a little bell.

“Get here, you little brat!” Satoru’s laughing, running after a quick little girl with chubby arms flailing, and Suguru sees her then.

His daughter.

He looks back to you, opening his mouth to say something, anything, when he gazes at your body, and sees the changes.

You’re pregnant.

Satoru stops and picks up the little girl, grinning at you before he sees Suguru, then his own eyes widen, while the little girl just giggles waving at Suguru, not knowing who he was. How could she? His heart breaks into pieces when he sees her perfect face, she looks just like you, aside from already long black hair, silky and tied up in a cute little pony tail.

She’s precious, she’s perfect.

He feels it, what’s been missing, when he manages a little smile at her, and Satoru steps closer, while you’re still stunned, as you see him. You never thought you’d see him again, this past year has been spent living your life with Satoru and your daughter, and then you’d found out you were expecting. Satoru was oddly traditional, putting a ring on your finger one day.

‘You’re kind of married to my best frenemy but this will do for now’

He’d said it so casually you’d giggled, as he carried you to the room, the lovemaking was endless between you, but moreso it was the friendship- a beautiful friendship, truly. A partnership built on mutual love of Suguru at first, but of course it blossomed, until you were each other’s world, though you saw Suguru every day in your daughter.

Two years. No word.

He looks different, he’s slimmer and less buff, his hair is shorter and tied up, and he has some dark circles, but he’s as handsome as you remember. He clears his throat a bit now, rubbing the back of his neck, gone was the insanely commanding man, and replaced was one just a little unsure.

Your heart splits in half.

“Suguru, come in.” Satoru’s words surprise him, as he looks at you again, your hand on your tummy.

Is this how you looked pregnant with his daughter?

“Please come in, Suguru.” You whisper, and he nods, trying to placate a smile on his face as everything threatens him, to yank you in his arms, kiss you, press you against that wall. To tell you how badly he’s craved it, your taste, your moans, your pretty sighs, how he’s not stopped thinking of you.

But you’ve moved on, it’s clear as day with your bump growing, with how your daughter calls Satoru ‘papa’ then. He wants to be furious, but he caused it, he shoved you right into Satoru’s arms, and knew he’d fall for you, just like Suguru did. How could anyone not love you.

“Hi! Hi!” The girl says, and Suguru smiles at her, stepping closer, as she cups his cheek with her little hand.

“Hi there. I’m your parents… very distant best friend.” His soft declaration eats you alive, as you and Satoru eye each other for a moment.

“Play! Play!” Suguru chuckles, you’re not sure you really ever heard that from him, unless it was dark, mocking.

“Let’s give them a minute to catch up, clean up for dinner. You staying for dinner, Suguru?” Satoru asks, so casually as if they were just old friends, and Suguru almost breaks down.

He doesn’t deserve to be invited in.

He didn’t deserve either of your love.

“If you’d like me to.” He directs the question to you, and you nod a little, smiling tremulously.

“Please do.”

“Then it’s settled, be back sweetheart.” Satoru plants a kiss right on your lips, and you melt just a bit, before tensing, glaring at Satoru as he grins. “What?”

“You’re ridiculous!” He just chuckles, winking as he takes her to get cleaned up, leaving you with Suguru, who’s scowling at his retreating figure.

“He’s as annoying as ever.” You burst into laughter, before it turns to tears, and Suguru falters, holding a hand up, hovering near your cheek. “Fuck, I… I am so sorry I left. I’m sorry for it all.”

“It’s okay, just please, stay for dinner. Let us see you again. Let her meet you, please.” You’re a mess, and he hugs you against his chest now, feeling your tummy nudge him, your breasts against his chest, a mix of fury and understanding, longing and loathing.

“Are you happy?” His question is simple.

You are happy.

But you missed him, fuck you missed him. But now…

“Suguru um, I…” You sigh, holding his hand, stepping back just a bit, and his other hand brushes aside your tears. “I’m happy with Satoru. I love him. I know you must hate me for saying this-”

“No.” He puts a finger to your lips, pausing, looking just how beautiful they are, how beautiful you are, you always were. “I saw how he looked at you the day you met, I knew this would happen.”

“Then why!? Then why!” You pull back, shaking your head, and Suguru looks away, jaw clenching.

“I knew he’d make you happy and I couldn’t. And I loved you enough to let you have it.” Your heart is shattered into a million pieces, the baby kicks in response and you cry out just a bit. “Calm down, please…”

“I just don’t get it, I don’t get you Suguru, maybe I never will. Are you back or just… visiting?” You’re swiping at your own tears.

“I’m here for a bit. I came to see you both. Well… all three of you.” His eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles. “Your daughter, she’s beautiful.”

“Her name is Noa.” You say, and Suguru can’t stop the smile from growing, brushing your hair off your shoulder.

“Love?”

“Love.” You touch his hand with a small smile. “Please stay for dinner, and… just talk.”

“I kind of want to kill Satoru even more than before.”

“Wanna take this outside then?” Satoru’s cocky grin meets Suguru’s eye roll - and you know this memory well from Satoru’s tales - of a basketball game with the two of them, over ten years ago now. But you see it.

They still love each other, even though Satoru has you against his side, possessive hand on your waist, and Suguru’s violet eyes glare a bit. “You took my wishes a little too far.”

“Should’ve been more specific, less emo.”

“Satoru I swear-”

“Hi, hi! Up, up!” Noa runs to Suguru, surprising Satoru and you both, as the little girl really only loves you two.

Suguru leans down, picking her up in his arms, grinning bigger than you’ve ever seen, as you barely hold it together, Satoru’s hand soothing on your back, pressing a kiss on your temple. “You’re mine, you know.” He whispers in your ear.

“Possessive, hmm?” You smile up at him, and he sighs, looking over at his friend and his daughter.

“Very, but… it’s nice to have him home.” Satoru’s words are only meant for your ears, as you glance at a man you loved, a toxic man - one who made horrible decisions - but you see it, his change, his genuine adoration of Noa then. And you look back at the other man you love, so deeply, and something about it…

Feels perfect.

Now if you read this after I warned you, I'll hear no complaining aha - if you're reading both, happy Suguru end will be VERY soon. If you just wanted the sad ending, I hope you enjoyed. It's bittersweet <3 This is how I intended it to end but so many ppl fell for our cult leader I'll have his own version. Ty for reading this~ if it's your chosen end, see you in my other ficsss!

taglist 1 @ur-1fav-girl @gradmacoco @arabellasolstice @saitamaswifey @uarmyhopeworldwide @makkiihehe @dabisdolly @angelzrulez21-blog @juicu @meme848 @arcanedx @satxoru @jeon-blue @longlivegojo @satorusaysiloveyou @enhasrii @inthedarkshadows000 @shokosmokes @schlokki @ashdiamashi @socutesotall @staarflowerr @you-need-namjesus @pkcoleight @tasteofapplecider @erenspersonalwh0re @makingtimemine @boobsbeesbongos @sjstg3 @msniks @hhhhhhhikariiiiiiii @l1v1ngzomb1e @lilbxtchsyndrome @maddyhehehehhe @nanamiskentos @yenayaps @slamonwords @nonamevenus @sugurumylove @shibataimu @spicy-woodland-queen @nonamebbsblog @notyuralycat @beabamboo @satttanx @curlyhairkk @7thsthings @ziggy0stardust @slutlight2ndver

#suguru geto x reader #geto x reader #gojo x reader #satoru gojo #SatoSugu x reader ???#maybe lol #geto angst #jjk angst #jjk arranged marriage #jjk x reader #satoru x reader #gojo smut #jjk geto #cult leader geto #divider by strangergraphics

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yanderenightmare · 8 months ago

Note

does bakugos protectiveness mean he won’t get intimate with reader? like does he see them more as like …. a fragile pet/person to look after?

Bakugou Katsuki

♡ TW: nsfw, noncon, immobilization, yandere, captive reader, quirkless reader, grief, discrimination, drawn comparisons between quirklessness and disabilities, implied bakudeku, drugging, needles, hypochondriasis adjacet, also angst

♡ manga spoilers in a way, but also not really. anyway, read at your own discretion.

♡ part one

♡ fem reader

Despite all his lingering stares, the way he washes you in the bath and holds you at night, and the bulge you feel press against your ass—he hadn’t taken it further, and you’d started thinking he never would. His worries for your health might be so restricting he believes an act such as sex would be too exhausting and harmful for you. Sometimes, on his more rigid days, he doesn’t even allow you to walk on your own. So you wouldn’t put it beyond him.

But then, one night four months in, it comes. Creeping in slowly. You’re left wondering about it for a moment, lying there in anticipation as his large hands roam more than usual—over the plush of your thighs, up the small of your waist. The bed shifts as he slots himself closer—you think you might feel his heart thunk at your back. His breath comes with wet heat against your ear, his words even more so, drenched in arousal, yet oddly restrained, “Can I… touch you?”

He's so hesitant about it. Something in his voice, something so careful, makes you feel you can take it as an actual question and not one of his usual orders in disguise. Even so, you hesitate in return. But after a minute of contemplation, you decide to take advantage of the offered choice. Whispering back a firm and trying “No.”

You await his reaction warily—the possibility of him ignoring you is still very much plausible despite his caution.

But then… his touches recede to their designated places—to their normal hold, to the one of a simple dragon guarding treasure and nothing more. He releases a pent-up breath, then takes another deep one before settling.

“Okay.”

It seems somewhat anticlimactic. You’re not entirely sure you believe it. But as you wait for him to go against his own word, he doesn’t do anything but hold you like any other night, and then, a while later, you hear him snore.

You suppose it was expected. If your theory is correct and he doesn’t want to put you through the strain, it would only make sense he definitely wouldn’t do it if you were going to fight back on top of it. And as he doesn’t use the sedatives without deeming it utterly necessary, you can’t see him regard his horniness as a need that would justify its means.

Which can only then mean he wouldn’t touch you like that without consent. Perhaps the only saving grace in it all.

Or at least that was what you thought…

You’re both in the tub. You’d since allowed his thorough bath rituals without fighting back. Those times you’d bothered in the beginning, he’d used a sedative each time and left you as limp as a puppet. And even though you didn’t enjoy having any part of it, going through with it consciously was better than the alternative. And so you sit there, letting him lather and rub—trying to ignore the fact that his callused hands are twice your size and that he’s entirely naked, paired with the occasional feeling of his cock bumping into your lower back.

“There’s a lot’a health benefits to it…”

There he goes again. Health this, health that—constantly. He’ll most likely never let up on convincing you, no matter how much you declare you don’t need any of this inane insanity he calls protection.

“Sex, I mean…”

Your ears draw back at that. What… what did he just say? Your skin tightens around you, crawling with shivers even in the hot water. Health benefits… Sex…

You don’t like the sound of that. You thought he’d decided the means outweighed the need—his need, which is, in fact, not a need at all but a selfish desire. Similar to your desire to drink coffee or eat cake—both things you’re no longer allowed to do since it’s not compatible with your health regimen. Sex, as was decided, is also not compatible with your health regimen.

“It improves the immune system, lowers the risk of heart disease, decreases depression, makes you sleep better…” he mutters behind you. “Also… it’ll help you settle.”

“What are you talking abou—” Your outcry is cut off by the needle deep in your arm. The liquid enters you quickly and taints your bloodstream shortly thereafter. You watch him pull it out and place it gently on the neatly folded stack of towels beside the tub. Your breath is forcibly subdued before it has the chance to flare with the panic rioting your chest. The only protest leaving is a wasted “No…”

“I’m sorry…” he apologizes, wrapping his thick arms around your softened body before it could collapse forward, pulling you close while pressing his forehead between your slumped shoulder blades. “But this is for your own good.”

You don’t know whether he’s trying to convince you or himself. When he subjects you to all his other methods, he does so with impenetrable justification—as though religiously, sanctioned, with a rigid belief of what he’s doing. But now he seems more torn—as if he’s sullying himself with dubious intent, not entirely able to hide from his own ulterior motives.

He carries your limp body out of the bath in a fluffy towel. Your eyes are half-mast and blurry at times, but still, you can see it, written plainly on his face—guilt. No, not of the tiny needle hole he’d made in your arm—that shame is more fleeting, more of a grit-teethed all’s fair in love and war. This look on his face was different from that—weighted with a burden he still isn’t sure if’s worth it.

He lays you down softly on the bed, then takes a step back, swallowing thickly.

His shoulders look braced from what you can tell when looking down at where he stands at the foot end—overall uncomfortable in his stance, looking as though he doesn’t want to be there, as though he shouldn’t be there. Maybe he’s changed his mind? Maybe the guilt has fostered regret? Maybe he won’t go through with it after all?

The bed sinks to accommodate his weight. You feel it swallow you from beneath as if you’re drowning in the sheets. You feel heavy enough for it to be true—heavy like lead, unmovable. And yet, Bakugou moves you all too easily. Parting your thighs as if they didn’t have any gravity to them whatsoever, placing them atop his own as he shuffles in close.

You want to scream, but you can only cry silently. You feel so betrayed—that’s what gets you most. Familiarity in what you’d always known about how to live had been stripped away, leaving you to Bakugou’s rules and regulations—which weren’t much to find comfort in. Still, you had felt you could in the least trust in them, in his mania, in this unshakable need of his to keep you safe and healthy. But now he was breaking that trust.

“You aren’t comfortable with me yet. That’s the issue,” he says—insists on it. And it’s very clear now—he doesn’t even have himself assured. You can see it on his face, behind his eyes, racking his brain, grasping at straws.

Your skin ignites with goosebumps as he trails up both your thighs—his red stare rimmed with unease, brows cinched, looking at the place between you. His mouth hangs slightly open—you hear the shallow breaths seeping in and out, thicker and thicker with heat.

“We need this.”

That’s different. We have never been a part of it before. It’s always been you first and foremost and then him as an afterthought. Your chest churns again with the same sensation of back-stabbing—this isn’t right—he’s breaking all the rules! He said he wouldn’t—he promised he wouldn’t!

You squeeze your eyes shut with all the might the drug allows you when you feel his gritty finger filter through your slit. His warmth tells you he’s leaning down close, then the sensation of his mouth wrapping your nipple, soaking it in spit, even hotter than the steaming tub from earlier.

“I want to make you feel good—I need you to be happy,” he moans around the nub, sucking it into a pretty pebble before doing the same with the other—leaving them both glossy. “To smile. And laugh. You aren’t healthy if you don’t want to live.”

You can feel the bed shake beneath you, and you can tell from the tremor in his voice it’s from jerking himself—teasing your entrance with the other hand. You wince when his fingers enter you. The bathwater makes it easier—one digit first, testing you out, then quickly followed by the sting of another. It’s a stretch—after all, you haven’t done it in the many months since arriving here, and even before then, you’d been busy with work. You don’t remember how long it’s been, but it’s far long enough to make it feel both a little painful but also way overdue.

It's embarrassing how quickly you come undone. Two fingers barely doing anything but fill you out, and you’re already throttling them and cumming—wetting them with slickness of your own.

He pulls them out shortly. You don’t want to open your eyes, but the stillness that befalls the bed tells you everything of how he’s inspecting them with that god-awful doctoral leer in his eyes.

You think you hear the sounds of suction a second later—yes, definitely slurping.

You want to crawl in on yourself and die.

The hand returns, settling flatly upon your pelvis—a fat thumb nuzzling your pearled clit. And then something grazes the puffy lips below it—softly and slowly, ever-gently. Something hard. Something big. Something bulbous.

“This will hurt a little. But then you’ll feel good,” he cares to explain as if you’ve never done this before. It’s awful how soft and sweet he makes his tone, masking the brute—but the room is too quiet to hide behind, and you hear it anyway. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.”

Liar.

Liar, liar, liar liar liar!

He nudges against your entrance to find purchase, a request soon granted—though it requires much more than what his digits did. A cry cracks from your chest and his movements halt. But that’s somehow worse—the slow burn is all but torture—you wish he’d rather do it quickly, in one full motion, like ripping off the band-aid. But no, he eases in, and the tear feels everlasting until it nudges right and tight against your womb.

“Fuck.” His whole body labors with his breaths, trying hard to restrain himself—and you suppose that’s something to be thankful for. “Fuck, that’s so nice…”

He, as well, hasn’t had a fuck in ages. Since before he met you.

He’d been too much of a wreck after the funeral when the realization had finally settled. Unfit in every sense of the word. Put on mandatory sick leave.

He had a month of binging. Too many hookups in poor taste and even shittier circumstances—sloshed at exclusive clubs, taking home the first person he could play pretend with. It was easiest with his fans—they remind him of him—how they fawn over him so wholeheartedly, cute nerds all too eager to let him use them.

Kirishima had beaten him half to death at some point, fed up with his bullshit—told him he was tainting his memory. His words hit harder than his fists. Set him straight. He’d sobered up, and then he’d gone back to work as the new number-one hero.

He had touched neither bottle nor another human being since. It had been all business.

And then he met you.

He hunkers down—his lips and nose brush along your neck in small kisses. “I love you,” he confesses under his breath, circling your clit under his thumb while his other hand dwarfs your hip tenderly. It’s the first time he says it out loud like that. It doesn’t mean much to you, or no, it means you want to twist away—but to him, it’s as if he’d said so under the climax of a romance, or maybe an even more dire intimacy than that, like the last breath he’d take before death, coated head to toe in blood, knowing he’d never be able to see you again.

All previous reservations are thrown as he pulls back and starts rocking forth slowly.

“Ah fuck—” he hisses. “I love you.”

The patterns drawn on your clit get messier—so do his kisses—sloppy and getting needier. The hand on your hips has to grip the mattress instead, supporting him while his breaths turn gruffer.

“I love you,” he keeps repeating, and you keep your eyes closed.

The bed rocks softly beneath you like you’re lying on a saucer swing—making you a little nauseous, and yet you feel it coming anew—the sweet tingling from below, simmering beneath Bakugou’s thumb.

Then his lulling picks up, veering on thrusting—just hard enough to make your skin softly clap upon meeting. It’s just enough friction to make you jerk again, seizing up and shivering on his cock. It jitters shortly, stutters, and then stills—and you feel it fill you—swarm you—hot and wet and spreading.

His chest rests on you—heavy and plump with brawn coated in sweat mixed with bathwater. It’s suffocating, yet you breathe fine, albeit in shambles, recovering from the toll.

“I love you,” he says a final time, breathless.

And you don’t know… something about the entire thing feels as though he’s talking to someone else.

♡ more thoughts on this ♡ BAKUGOU KATSUKI masterlist ♡ BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA masterlist

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luvwestwood · 1 year ago

Text

"AFK" - Choso Kamo (with twt links)

"..like fortnite, i’ma need your skin.."

3,012 words.

warnings. nsfw(18+), bf/gamer! choso, oral sex (m rec.), humiliation, desk sex, exhibitionism, trying not to get caught, feral choso, p in v, throat fucking, oral sex (m receiving), overstimulation, degradation, choso whimper links included lol,

notes. my previous drabble abt choso had a lil kick to it, definitely had to make it into a full one-shot! hope u guys enjoy, and thank u for 450 followers hehe, so I included twt links! ^^

credits to @/plutism for dividers, @/adrienwithane for banner.

russian translation by @juliabelll ❤️

Not too long ago, it was Choso's birthday. Being an amazing girlfriend you are, of course you built him a brand new PC. It cost you an arm and a leg, but that didn't matter at all when it came to Choso. Seeing him happy itched a part of your brain, especially when he was the one who would pay for everything: dates, your online shopping carts, you name it.

He never really bought anything for himself. You were getting tired of the countless times that he went on a tangent about how slow his previous machine was. It was doing your head in, so you saved up. For what you now call a 'not-blessing-in-disguise'.

Choso was obsessed with his new PC, and it wasn’t an exaggeration. Part of you was starting to regret it all. The man barely paid attention to you.

Am I the asshole for being mad that my boyfriend likes his gift a bit too much? No, I wouldn't think so. I should be delighted, but it's pretty much getting outrageous.

The fact that he has almost every single game out there on that PC in just a span of one week since he got it - means there's more for him to do. Every day, he'd wake up, do a bit of house stuff then sit his ass down to play with his friends. For as long as he can. Never leaving that room. Hell, he wouldn't even bother answering your messages until an hour later. 'Mb, was on the game' is something that was engraved in your brain by now.

Every time you'd come over, he'd ignore you simply by just gluing his eyes on the screen. If you try to nap, just go home. You've lost track of how many times he's managed to wake you up with his blood-curdling screams. There were times when Choso didn't even notice you leaving, which upset you quite a bit.

Of course, you had moments when you needed him the most. Like, badly. Freshly shaved, he's not even mentally there to take a peek. You could be naked and oiled up in his bed, Choso wouldn't even bat an eye.

…Advice to self, don't get him a PS5 this Christmas.

"Choso," You called out, sat on the edge of the bed behind him. No answer. Per usual, you wanted to rip that headset off his head.

Dark circles were forming around his eyes, endless cans of monster were scattered all over his desk. "Nah let's just fight Oscar, we've got a minute until the circle closes."

Rolling your eyes, a scoff escapes your mouth. Aaand he didn't hear you. Crossing your arms, you furrow your brows. He was honestly testing your patience. "Choso?!"

Choso flinches a bit, pulling one side of his headset away from his ear. His gaming chair spins around to face you. "Baby?"

He knew you were mad. You looked more than pissed. It was really because this recurring behavior of his was getting too much. "Your eyes are always on that screen! Did you even know that I was here!?”

“I-I’m sorry. Look, I'll get off after this game!” From his headset you could hear Choso’s friends teasing and picking on him. They probably heard you scolding your poor boyfriend. You couldn’t care less.

As soon as you were about to speak, he immediately spun his chair back around to face that stupid monitor again. He was too engrossed in the game. It was his squad of four against the only opposing team.

Groaning, you flop back onto his mattress. "..You always say that, and you never do." Muttering under your breath, you stare at the ceiling blankly. What felt like a hammer to your head, Choso's war cries could only get louder each second.

The past few days, you had no choice but to use your own fingers to toy with yourself. You were needy, and you missed your boyfriend's touch. Too bad he was too occupied. How come his keyboard and mouse get to be touched by him more than your....

Using all of your strength, you sat yourself up again on the edge of his mattress. Realizing there's no use in scolding him, you quietly walked up behind Choso, combing your fingers through his hair. You loved when it was down, and he loved it when you played with his hair. He found it relaxing. You could tell by the way his body was no longer tensed up, the back of his head falling heavy onto your hand.

Your hands left his hair, travelling down to his nape. With your freshly manicured nails (which he paid for), you gently scratched his skin on his neck. You could see goosebumps forming, but said nothing about it. Choso who was ticklish, tilted his head to the side - "Mmm," He hummed, telling you off as you were starting to distract him.

Letting out a laboured sigh, you stared at the back of his head. Wondering what to do with him, you pouted. Maybe I should just leave like every other day? No, I can't back down.

He seems really busy. Would he even notice if I crawled under his desk? Grinning, you got on your knees, crawling like a kitty underneath his desk but making minimal noise. You glanced behind your shoulder to see his reaction, but his eyes were still gawking at the flashing screen in front of him.

Coming face to face with his sweats, you kneeled, just in level with his lap. Peeking your head out from the shadows under his desk, Choso had only noticed you then. His eyes widened, the sight of you looking up at him like a puppy had started to cloud up his thoughts.

Grabbing onto his wrist, he slowly let go of his mouse. Bringing his hand to your cheek, he took it in the palm of his hand, eventually giving in and using his thumb to softly caress your lips. "..I missed you, Choso.." You whispered, softly sucking on his thumb. "..I need you,"

His breath hitched, your words were doing something to him. What a fool he was for ignoring you all this time? Just then, a cacophony of voices screaming through his headset broke him out of his trance. Choso's warm hand left your face, causing you to frown. Your fun was cut short. Way too short.

You had enough, deciding it was time you finally got what you wanted. Snaking your two hands up the soft cotton of his sweats, they stopped right at his crotch. His eyes anxiously shot down to you underneath him, telling you off and pointing to his headset.

Placing a finger onto your lips, you told him to just be quiet. His eyes frantically flickered from you, then to his monitor. Slowly, you slid down his pants. Smiling at the way he rose himself up from his seat slightly, so it would be easier to take them off. Of course, he wasn't wearing anything underneath.

Taking his long, thick cock into your hands, you jerked it ever so slightly. Choso cleared his throat, keeping his mouth shut all of a sudden in case he accidentally makes unwanted noise. He was practically melting under your touch, into the chair. Gliding your tongue over his pink tip, he didn't dare look at you. Not long after, your warm mouth wrapped over him, Choso letting out a sigh of relief at the feeling.

You knew how to push his buttons, bringing yourself to fully deepthroat his cock for a few seconds. His lips purse shut, Choso slightly biting down onto his bottom lip. His fingers started to press on the wrong keys, unable to focus on the game.

Pulling away, a string of saliva connected your tongue and his aching tip. You brought your lips back onto his cock, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks as you used your two hands to jerk him off at the same time.

The man above was folding at the pornographic sight underneath him. Hearing Choso moan by accident, he quickly covered it up with a cough. “…Yeah, no, I’m good- Just don’t- feel well..”Friends concerned, Choso had come up with a convincing lie in just seconds. His hand reached down to rake through your hair until his fist was full of it. [link]

He lightly pushed your head up and down his length, your mouth making sloppy noises all over, buckets of spit dripping down your chin and his balls.

Ripping his headset off, Choso didn't care about the game anymore. Or his friends. He groaned as you fondled with his balls, giving them a suck afterwards. His light grey pants were turning a darker shade than before. His two hands clawed into your hair on both sides of your face, Choso started to fuck his cock into the back your throat.

Moaning, his eyes shut tightly as his head fell back onto the cushion of his chair. His balls tightening as he heard how you constantly gagged over his thick cock. "Fuck.. Just like that.."

His moans were a mixture of curses and long groans, tears started to well up in your eyes. Choso opened his eyes again, looking down at you as he drew your mouth away from his cock. He smiled, seeing your makeup all ruined, your face covered with spit and so did his lap.

Rolling his chair away from the desk, he grabbed you from underneath. Only to pull it back again, placing it in front of his PC. Guiding his hand on your back, he bent you over on the chair, making your two legs kneel on the soft cushion so you wouldn't tire out. [link]

Holding tightly onto your hair, your head fell back towards him. Choso had ripped the fabric of your leggings that was unfortunately covering your cunt. Grabbing his cock, he lined himself up with your hole, his hands shaking from how eager he was.

Easily sliding in from the slick that covered your hole, you grabbed onto the arm rest in front of you; Choso stretching you out completely. Wasting no time, he began to move his hips back and forth, fucking his hard cock into you.

His monitor started to gently shake from how hard his cock was bullying into you, skin slapping as his balls that were full of weeks load cum made contact with your clit.

"C-Choso.." You cried out, your hand reaching back to his pelvis. Staring at yourself getting fucked like a slut through the reflection of his PC monitor, your ass rippled with each and every one of his thrusts.

Maintaining his brutal pace, his fingers were no longer woven into your hair, reaching out to the headset on his desk. Confused, you kept your eyes open to watch Choso place them over your head. "W-What..?"

His hands gripped onto the flesh of your hips, Choso leaned into your ear. "Keep moaning you slut, let them hear you." All of a sudden he groaned, feeling you clench around him at what he just said. "You like that, don't you?"

Spinning you slightly to one side, his leg went up onto the chair with you, allowing him more leverage to fuck you deeper. "Eyes up at that camera too, show them how pretty you look taking my cock," Tears started to stream down the sides of your cheeks, your face had flushed red.

Choso's hands took a hold of your hair again, his tip kissing your cervix repeatedly. "I.." Speechless, you lost your ability to form a basic sentence. His fat cock left you braindead, at this point you were seeing nothing but stars.

"..Use your words baby," A creamy white ring started to form at his base as his cock pistoned in and out of you. Choso's hand kept stamping down on your back from time to time to make sure you kept that arch. "..Isn't this what you've been wanting all week?"

"Y-you're so deep.. I can't.." Your hand reached back to his abs, twisting the white fabric of his tank top until it was all wrinkly. He took a hold of your wrist, twisting your arm behind you. Choso slightly bent over, his warm body resting against your back.

He quietly groaned into your ear, chanting your name like a prayer. You were fucked out of your mind. "You feel so good.. like this pussy was made for me." The pace of his thrusts slowed down, but his hips still rut into you hard each time. His strokes hard and deep, you swear could feel him all up in your guts. Your jaw had dropped, your head falling back onto his shoulder.

Choso's hands reached under your loose shirt, letting your tits spill out of your bra. Gently twisting your nipple between his finger tips, fondling with your whole breast afterwards, he forgot how much he loved wrapping his mouth around those.

"Your cock.. It feels so good.." You babbled, Choso sneaking his fingers underneath to rub lazy circles on your clit. Your legs began to tremble, fortunately your throat managed to choke out a whine.

Also seeing him in the reflection of his monitor, strands of his hair started to stick to his face. Multiple beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. Choso didn't want to leave your pussy. Not even Thor could pull him out. He enjoyed using you like a cock whore.

You felt so dizzy, mind full of his cock. Choso let out multiple whimpers as he felt his orgasm nearing, his index finger hooking onto the side of your mouth. The very last few seconds, his cock bottomed into you, trying to chase your orgasm. The desk hitting against he wall non-stop, his headset that was on you started to fall off your head.

Leaving a trail of wet kisses down your back, his hand grabbed onto the plush flesh of your ass, continuously giving it a spank every now and then.

The wet, slapping noises of your skin continued to follow, until you felt his thrusts come to a sudden halt. His hot cum shooting inside of you rope after rope, just before he pulled out to let the rest out onto your ass. "..Fuck.. look at that."

Using his thumb to spread your hole wide open, his load spilt onto the black leather of his gaming chair. You panted, tired and hole throbbing. You got what you wanted, that’s for sure. Forcing his headset off you, you couldn't do anything but lean against his desk, trying to regulate your breathing pattern back to normal.

"..We're not done here," Choso laughed behind you, your cunt still dripping of his thick load. His hands roughly turned your body around, placing you on top the desk to face him. Using his foot to push the chair away, he lined his cock with your hole again, using his cum that was already inside of you as lube.

"Oh m-my- Choso!" You yelped, one hand taking grip onto his shoulder for support, the other holding knocking his keyboard out of the way, trying to find something to hold onto other than his shoulder.

His forehead rested against yours, the staggering movement of his hips causing the desk itself to shake under the two of you. Choso watched as his cock disappeared in and out of your hole, grunts coming out through his clench teeth as he wrapped his large hands around your thighs. He wanted more, and wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

"..Good girl," He gritted through his teeth, "..I love t-this pussy, and you." Choso's hands pressed flat against the desk, his lips locking onto yours. His cock was coated in a mixture of his and your own cum, your sweaty bodies intimately hugging against each other.

Choso wanted to feel all you, he just craved more and more each minute. His hands shakily held onto the sides of your waist, his lips moving to your jaw to plant more kisses.

"You're so beautiful, look at me baby." Choso lightly tapped the side of your face, telling you to maintain eye contact.

Obeying, you kept your eyes open; looking into his but not a thought behind your own eyes. You only continued to whine under his touch, overstimulated from how much he's used you like a cock whore. You were so close to losing your mind, drunk off his cock.

Choso too, was lost in your pussy. God, was he whipped— If only he could stay inside you forever, he definitely would. This whole time he was busy cursing at himself, how much of an idiot he is to not appreciate what he has - you. Your cheeks were stained with your hot tears, Choso hushing you and wiping them away every now and then.

“S-Shit, I’m gonna cum again.” He pants, feeling his balls tighten for the second time, the tightness of your pussy heightening his stimulation.

Your hands cupped both of his cheeks, pulling him in for a kiss. His thrusts turning sloppy, you cooed. “..Cum for me, I want it all inside..”

This caused the coil inside of Choso to snap, him desperately whimpering into your ear as he hid his face in the crook of your neck. “F-fu-ck..” Tightly holding onto the flesh of your hips, he made sure his second load stayed inside of you.

Sliding his cock out, Choso rested his heavy cock just above your pussy. Making sure he planted a peck on your forehead, trying to catch his breath. The two of you laugh, your bodies aching and sweaty, his entire desk and chair a mess.

Reaching for something, you blinked as Choso grabbed his headset that ended up on the other side of the desk. Placing one side against his ear, he spoke into the mic. "..GG."

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24 all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me 🎀🩷

[luvwestwood masterlist]

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x reader #choso smut #choso kamo #choso x reader #jjk choso #choso x you #jjk drabbles #jjk smut

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saetiate · 23 days ago

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itoshi rin x f!reader smut, portal sex, lowk witchcraft (sigils mean that his sex toy = your pussy basically), very slight semi-public don't get caught stuff (you don't actually get caught), oral f!receiving, p in v word count: 1.75k author's note: please save me i'm deranged

Rin has loved you for years.

He twists his phone in his hand, your contact name right at the top of his notifications. Just thinking about confessing to you has his insides turning, makes him want to slam his head into the nearest wall. He'd rather waterboard himself than say something.

He almost runs into the old lady that holds a hand up to stop him in his tracks.

She tells him that he "seems to be in a bit of a predicament," which he doesn't get at all. But then he looks up as she lead him into a little store right next to a sex shop, handing him something in one hand, the other hand holding up the little machine for making a payment.

Imagine her whilst you use this.

That's easy enough. He's been imagining having you for years. Memorized what your laugh sounds like, twinkling windchimes; how your face looks when you smile.

The toy part is new though. He turns it around. There's a little image near the base of it, like a drawing of some sort.

God, this is so dumb. He knows it even as he lays down in bed and closes his eyes. But then he finds himself all-too-easily imagining your thighs clasped around his head, the taste of you fresh on his tongue.

You're at work when it starts.

You're in the pantry getting a necessary pick-me-up coffee between lunch and the end of the work day when you start to feel something between your legs that makes all your movements stop. Something that has wetness blooming immediately. You try to shake it, keep the thought boxed up in the back of your mind, but you- you can feel it. Can feel something between your legs even when you know logically there's nothing there.

The only thing you know is you've got to get out of here. Away from your coworkers and their gossip session in the corner, the girl kicking the printer at the end of the corridor as you stumble into your office. You quickly pull on the blinds to shut them, only half-registering locking the door before you're falling into your seat.

What the fuck.

It feels like a searing hot, wet tongue is cleaving right between your folds. Your hand clamps around your mouth with a slap, hyperaware of the feet you can see walking by your office right at the bottom of your blinds. Hyperaware that anyone could still knock, have a question or need an update.

You've always been glad to have your own office, but you've never been quite so grateful now. When your legs are clasped together so tight they ache, and slick drips down your cunt.

The worst part might be that the only person that's running through your mind throughout all this is Rin.

Rin, who you've known for years. Who has been a stable friend. Who you know is attractive to the point of model-beauty, successful and busy and you're being forced to come to terms with the fact that this is not the first time you've thought of him like this. Clear blue eyes that peek past your inner thighs and lap at your cunt with so much fervor you're almost embarrassed.

You swear you can feel the tap of the tip of his tongue over your clit, the precise way it circles around that has you leaning over your desk, gripping it tight. It's a miracle you haven't made a loud enough sound to disturb. You feel the wave of your orgasm coming to you fast. How long has it been since you've had someone eat you out so vigorously? How is it so clear in your mind to the point where you can feel every movement, unpredictable even to you?

You feel a tongue lap over your clit again and again, the noise of the office outside turned background as the coil in your gut turns tight and you're keening over, coming hard in your chair, so wet you're half worried about whether it's seeped through your work clothes.

You think that's it, and then —

It gets so much worse.

You can feel something entering you, a hardened phantom-cock that slides past your wet folds with ease, every inch sinking in. You squeal behind your hand, shutting your eyes tight.

This you can't just be imagining, not when you can feel the stretch of your pussy accommodating for what's entering you. It slides back out of you just a little before pushing in even further, so big it feels like it's bullying you. You think you can almost feel the warmth radiating off of it from between your legs.

You can't help but moan when you finally reach what you think (hope) is the base, cock head pressed so deep in you that you feel stuffed full.

Rin half-thinks he's losing his mind, crazy with how hot and wet what is supposed to be a toy feels as he slides it over his cock. Are sex toys supposed to feel like this? It's so tight around his cock, contracting on its own, he feels like he's being pushed out. He tries to pull out just a little, only to feel like he's being sucked in instead. Like even you can't decide how you want him.

He gives in to his own temptation, pressing in despite the way it feels like a vice wrapped around his cock, and resistance gives way to slick, wetness dripping over and coating his member.

He feels dizzy with need as he presses in close, until the toy is around the whole of his cock, right at the base, the head of his cock hitting the back of it. Everything is warm and wet as he can't help the way his hips thrust up into it anyways.

You feel the phantom cock lodge deeper inside you even as you mentally beg to no one that you're so full, that there's no way you can take any more.

The way it fucks into you is with an intensity you've never experienced before, pressing into you over and over again. Your heart beats fast in your chest; the thrusts a little too fast, too deep to what you're used to. You want them to slow down and keep going all at once, slumping over your desk in a silent scream.

He imagines you in different ways, clear like sunlit water, something that both scares him and makes his dick throb. Underneath him, pressing your thighs close to your chest, slamming into you with his mouth against the column of your neck, and then lapping up your sweat in the valley between your breasts. On top of him, his hands on your waist as he brings you up and down over his cock.

All Rin can think about is how good it feels, your pussy wrapped around his cock. How you'd look under him, flushed and pretty. He wants to drop his head in the crux of your shoulder, breathe you in, listen to you moan and whine. He can feel your slick drip down his cock, how you're clenching around him so hard it makes him hiss and grit his teeth.

"Fuck," the words leave him in a heated exhale. "Gonna-"

The way his cock fucks into you is so pointed, something that feels like lithe fingers circling your clit until stars burst into your vision. Another heated hand feels seared to your side, pulling you down over his cock.

Your hand is wrapped around your mouth so tightly, afraid to make a noise, your breath coming hard and fast as starlight sparks up your spine, a desperate mewl leaving the back of your throat.

Hearing Rin groan next to your ear, more real than you have ever imagined before — that has you crashing hard into an orgasm.

Rin feels your walls get impossibly tighter around him. He wants to see you like this in reality. Wants to see if you really arch your back in exact way he's imagining, wants to press a long kiss to your lips as his hot breath pants over your skin.

Your cheek pressed against his cheek, saying his name. The details all come together. An embarrassing dream he will never admit to anyone, something as soft as his name on your lips and your skin pressed against his, enough to run him entirely speechless, making him rut into the toy, and has him spilling into it.

Fractured breaths make their way up your throat as you come to your senses, spell like a fog descending and dissipating into the ground.

You're in your office. You can make out the click-clacking of keyboards outside the room, light chatter, the sound of your emails coming in.

Oh, fuck. How long were you out for? You can feel the mess between your legs, your pussy both is dripping and isn't, your slick soaking your panties, damp against your inner thighs.

But somehow it's… not as much as you initially thought it was? How it felt?

Your hands find your phone before you can think it through, tapping Rin's contact, something both impulsive and natural.

Rin's vision finally blinks into reality, the vision of you still like a lingering dream, toy still in his hand. He touches the inside of the toy curiously, a finger tracing the inner wall.

He swears it didn't feel like that when he had his dick inside of it. It felt softer, warmer, slick with need.

Whatever. He probably just imagined it, in his insanity of want for you. He cleans the toy out and chucks it in a box, a dark hidden corner where he doesn't have to see the scam he bought ever again.

And then his phone starts buzzing.

He picks up on fifth ring, after the shock leaves his system.

"Rin?"

"Yeah." He clears his throat, gulping down the emotions he brought up just moments ago.

"Hey! Hey, um. Haha. So I get off work in like, just over an hour ish? Do you wanna- um," he swears your voice sounds almost shaky, out of breath. "Do you wanna get dinner or something? I mean, it's been a while since we met up, hasn't it? And you're like, off-season or something, right?"

Rin spins around to eye where he just threw the toy.

"Yeah." His back hits the wall behind him, a small, soft smile tilting up the corners of his mouth just slightly. "Okay."

hi hello here's the rin version! so the diff between the sae and rin versions is that rin isn't really thinking about why or how this is happening in the moment HAHA he's much more pleasure chasing than sae going what the actual hell is happening and continuing anyways :> OKAY sorry for the wait for this and i hope you enjoyed!!!

#itoshi rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #fragments of memories #fragments of memories: fic #fragments: bllk #fragments: bllk: rin #x reader #blue lock x reader

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sqgeism · 2 months ago

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𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵 𐙚 𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬, | rex sloan 'splode' x gender neutral reader

love mail — PLEAASE please rex sloane be famous IM BEGGINg this took me like an hour but it's so long i'm actually surprised i committed to it. !!( ; ﾛ)ﾟﾟguys.. .. please... my efforts for my alive husband.. MAJOR S3 SPOILERS ! angst too oops, not proofread sorri !

wc : 2.2k

the three times rex sloan broke your heart.

rex sloan, or splode, one or the other — depending on how much he liked you, was a man that many knew for his pride, ego, and utter selfishness. the living, breathing representative of a self absorbed man. you hated the fact you fell for his stupid jokes and undeniable charm, how could you not? in his words, he was irresistable, and you had to admit.. he wasn't lying.

rex had you smitten with that little smirk of his and promises of well spent 'bonding' and 'getting to know each other'. you were doomed the moment he caught on to what made you tick, and what made you flush.

the very first time he had broken your trust, was his promise to court you — to have a beautiful life with you, that your eyes were pretty, that you were his, all his. only to hear those same words as he pounds into some random woman in your apartment, to your dismay. clothes that weren't yours and ones that definitely belonged to rex are scattered all over the place, and you just feel sick.

you make sure to yell for them to get out. and your eyes burn into rex's unapologetic ones, you see that smile on his face — unashamed, uncaring. you accept your defeat, that you fell for stupid, flowery words, from a pretty face with an ugly heart. you fall to the floor when you hear the door click, wobbly knees unable to hold you up for any longer as you sob; heart screaming at you for allowing yourself to be betrayed like this — when you knew you should have been smarter, wiser. not fall to something as stupid as love.

dealing with him around the base was your worst nightmare. he was fine; same insufferable jerkbag, while you cried and cried for days on end. where your body felt used, and your heart strings being tugged so tightly, you were afraid your fraile organ would burst. you knew one thing for sure, rex splode — was a man beyond redemption, beyond saving, and beyond forgiveness.

you dealt with seeing his face all the time, pissing you off, the team off, and being the same arrogant asshole he always was. you scold yourself for ever thinking he was anything different, for all the times he confided in you, and you him, for all the times your connection was more than cheap sex — was revealed to be nothing. hell, you wouldn't even be surprised if the cheap sex was all rex cared about. fuck that guy. (not literally, enough of that.)

the second time was weird. because you never even took him back — but after his.. haunting battle with king lizard that damn near killed him, the team did everything they could to keep him alive. at the cost of him needing to be bedridden for a while, unconcious, barely breathing.

you don't know why you even bothered to visit. you used to fight the urge to bash his face in, but seeing him so.. still, perhaps even peaceful.. you come to wonder how anyone was able to tame that fire he so naturally burned with. you made regular visits with mark, his best friend. and the way he talked about rex, made you remember the version of him you understood him as. for all his spunk and bite, he was still a man. a man who just wanted to be loved; for reasons unbeknownst to you at the time, as his past left him feeling unwanted.

you pitied him, almost. nothing can excuse cheating, nothing — but still.. you can never really get rid of the affection you held for someone. in the back of your head, like a virus that won't go away, it stays.. even if you can't see it, you definitely feel it.

things got worse when he woke up, because you don't know why — or how — but he just.. got better. scoffs and sneers turned to smiles and greetings, brushed off attempts at small talk became check ups on his health, and for the first time in the longest time.. your heart softened for him. you felt the familiar ache of your heart whenever he was around, but not one of hatred, but instead of.. yearning. oh no. your feelings for him coming back a second time around was not welcomed.

you didn't know how to feel on the night rex asked to see you at the roof of your apartment complex, and you didn't know what you were thinking when you agreed to meet. your footsteps feel heavy as you walk the stairs to the very top, and when you open the door — there he is. you expected the whole hero get-up, it was like the only thing he wore.. but no, just a shirt and plain pants while he leaned against a short wall, his back turned as he looked over to the city below. weird, you noted, but rex splode was always weird. and annoying, and insufferable, and —

"you ever think about what it's like?"

you snap out of your thoughts — surprised to hear such softness in his voice. it was almost believable, you scoffed mentally, even if you two were on better terms, you remained cautious. but nevertheless, you walk towards him, standing by his side with crossed arms. "what are you getting at?" you mumbled, an unintentional bite in your tone as rex chuckled, all too familiar with it.

"you know, what it means to be more than a hero — something more than a masked figure that saves lives, lives that are the reason i can only wonder what it must be like to.." his voice trails off, but you're understanding the direction this conversation is going.

you opened your mouth to continue his sentence, the previous snark disappearing. "be happy, truly, and unapologetically happy." you finished, turning your head to search his face for confirmation of her assumption of his words. his bittersweet smile speaks volumes.

he then asks; "you know my last name? like, for real." laughing at the question, you answer without thinking. "splode. it's stupid, rex splode — explode —"

"sloan."

your laugh slowly dies down, blinking at the realization. "my full name is rex sloan." rex, for the first time in.. ever, looks vulnerable. and all of a sudden, you recall just exactly why you were always so captivated by those eyes of his.

the talk extends for a couple hours, some tears are shed, unsaid words were finally shared, and a single promise was made.

"i promise," rex's hand makes it's way to your cheek, soothing your sniffles as the other pulls you close by the hip. a gesture you once recognized as rex wanting something physical, but there was more to this.. something emotional, a connection beyond desire and lust. "—that i'll be better. i'll fix what i broke back then, when i was spoiled, a big brat.. and that i'll be a good man for you. for all the hurt i caused, i'll try to heal tenfold. i'll be more than.. rex splode, i'll be yours." he whispered, leaning in close and brushing his nose against yours, a form of sweet affection.

and at those words, you leaned in to kiss him. a seal, one could say, to his oath of change. and since rex was staring at your lips all night, being on his very best behavior, he appreciated the reward. "you know.." he mumbled against your lips, smiling. "for once in my shitty life, i think i'm actually content." a laugh escapes him, and you practically swallow it with the way he just.. can't, won't pull away from you. "it's kinda worth living if it's with you."

but nothing could be greater than his relief that you forgave him. that the man you found to be so repulsive and conniving, was worth forgiving. and you will never know how much that meant to him. how much you meant to him.

the third, and very last time rex had broken your heart, was the invincible war.

the team was sent to deal with an invincible variant, no biggie! rex was joking about how excited he was to kick his best friends ass, and you laugh.. the war was hard, after all. with so much destruction, some humor doesn't hurt.

you wish you told him to not underestimate the enemy, to have a high guard.. because maybe, maybe you could've stopped this.

monster girl and rudy are safe, they had long fleed the bridge and now it was just you and rex. beaten, bloodied, and bruised.. but together. rex had taken so many more hits, for you and the others more than anything else. the gash in his side is still dripping blood and you feel sick at the sight. you can't win this, you won't win this.

your thoughts are disturbed by the hardest hit you'll likely ever take if you make it out of here alive, slamming you into a wall, knocking the wind out of you. "agh—.." trying to get up serves impossible, every inch of your body is screaming for you to stand, but the building shakes with each explosion rex throws at gogglesible — and all you can do is helplessly watch as your boyfriend, the love of your life, still tries to fight a battle he knows he's lost.

your one good eye widens at the sight of gogglesible getting the upper hand, grabbing rex by the throat — chokes and curses of struggle escaping his lips. "when i'm done with you, it'll be your dumb little partner next. right after they watch you get torn to shreds, limb by limb, with nothing left of you to mourn." the variant spoke coldly, his grip on rex's neck tightening with every second.

you watched helplessly, tears brimming in your eyes as you catch rex's gaze. even as he struggles, he's still got his eyes on you, so loving, full of nothing but adoration. so that's when you know somethings wrong — because for all the love you have for him, you know he wasn't the type to become sappy in the middle of battle. not unless —

that's when you're forcing yourself to move. grabbing onto the wall as you don't notice the way he reaches into his aforementioned gash, too focused to getting to him before it's too late.

rex always joked about going out with a bang — oh fuck, please be some messed up joke.

"honey,"

the sound of his voice immediately makes you snap your head to him, the kindest smile is on his lips — and he's got that apologetic look in his eyes. he knows what'll happen, he just hopes you remember him fondly. not for who he was, but who he became. cause among everything else, he was grateful to become yours. that you will be the one person to remember him as rex sloan, and not the jackass the world made him be.

"make sure to look away f'me, yeah?"

three times rex broke your heart,

two times you chose to forgive —

and one whole lifetime to live without him.

you sob as you turn your head away, the sight too much to bear as the last thing you see is rex's skin beginning to glow an bright yellow hue.

"my entire goddamn skeleton, dickhead."

and then, it was over.

you wake up in a hospital bed, noticing the burn marks that cover your skin, almost mocking the experience you had only hours prior. a reminder of who you lost, permanently engraved on your body forever.

at your side, is a note; it's not anything grandiose, hell — it's crumpled and the penmanship looks half assed. but you know it all too well, rex.

hey, i'm awful at notes. don't expect sappy shit, alright? i just have a horrible feeling about the mission and, you know, no regrets. not saying somethings gonna go wrong but i just want you to know.

when i met you, i was a horrible guy. i chased nothing but my own self pleasure and ego, and i still regret it. the way you looked at me that night, i get scared of disappointing you like that again. god, i wish i wasn't writing this on some tiny notepad i stole from marks desk, but i digress.

i love you, holy fuck i love you. you're my world, my honey, my heart. you made an irredeemable scumbag a tolerable young man, and that's something to be proud of. make sure to never forget that, okay? you were the reason i stopped throwing myself into danger like i was immortal, for once i..

i would be afraid.

for the first time in my life, i was terrified of dying, and that was new — so incredibly new to me. regardless, i'm glad i get to come home to you every single night, honey. no need to be afraid of dying when i know i'll fight hard to live, and see your pretty eyes first thing in the morning.

i love you, for all your sassy remarks and shitty jokes, i love you.

i'll see you when we get back from the mission, and you'll laugh at me for making something so stupid and sappy. but you know i mean it, everything, it's always for you. all of it is for you.

— utterly yours, r. s. ♡

#♡ — 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 #rex sloan x reader #rex splode x reader #rex sloan #rex splode #invincible s3 #invincible x reader

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