#the two words in question are ‘there was’
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Do I wanna know?
Pairings: Yandere Gojo x Fem reader
Summary: Satoru Gojo knows as soon as he sees you, he'll do anything to have you, but first? He needs you to need him. Ignoring his friendly offer to let you stay with him to save up for a better place, you soon find yourself kicked out by your landlord, and moving in with Satoru. Every thing seems like it's bringing you to need Satoru more and more... yet he doesn't make a move on you, and soon you start putting things together... is Satoru a stalker?? 9k word count
CW - There are SO MANY lol here we go- gaslighting, manipulation, possessive behavior, stalking, Satoru is so Yandere, teasing and tension, explicit sex, rough sex, face smacking, choking, breed kink, videoing without consent, oral sex (both receiving) trying to baby trap mentions of cum, dirty talk (he calls you a slut a lott lol) and misogyny. SATORU BEING PSYCHO but sexy. It's toxic- Based on this drabble
Comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoy this one! Thank you for 4k followers omg!!!
You’re not sure how you came to be so close to Satoru Gojo so quickly.
It was as if everywhere you were, he popped up in some way, at first you all met at your work, you were a bartender for a pretty elite club, and Satoru came in along with a few of his CEO friends for drinks once. He had tipped you insanely well, this gorgeous man with shocking white hair, and the most intense blue eyes you’ve seen, you couldn’t even describe the color they were.
Satoru Gojo was rich, handsome, friendly, funny, you couldn’t understand why he even asked for your number. You’re a beautiful girl, but he seemed like the kind of man that had women come to him, but not just that, he’s humble and sweet. He messaged you that night even, hoping you got home safe after your shift, and then asking if you’d like to hang out.
When you pictured hanging out, you honestly pictured maybe a date, or something intimate, but it was just coffee the first time, and he asked real questions about you. The next time you all went to a concert he had tickets for, and you had invited him into your apartment when he’d dropped you off, offering a drink to him.
That’s when Satoru saw your shitty little apartment.
He scoffed, walking around while you went to grab two beers, earning a view of your ass that had him shifting himself in his pants, but he was so upset then, he knew where you lived from the outside, he’d watched you plenty, but this? It’s a teeny one bedroom nothing, surely he could treat you much better than that, you deserved a penthouse, his penthouse.
He’d been watching you since that night weeks ago, he could not get his eyes off you, you took his breath away when his eyes had shifted up your body in that slutty bartending outfit. God he can’t wait until you’re not allowed to wear that anywhere, until you’re all his, and oh he knows you want him, he sees the desire in your dilated eyes, how your lips part when you look at him.
But not just yet.
Satoru can’t just fuck you, no you need to be his and you need to stay his, never, ever leaving him, and to do that he needs you begging for him. He needs there to be no other ideas in that pretty head of yours, so he decides to be your ‘friend’. Even when you step a little closer, lowering your lashes, eyes drinking him in when you take a sip from your bottle.
Beer? You should have top shelf champagne.
Satoru can do that for you.
“Thank you so much for tonight, Satoru.” You say softly, a hand trailing up his chest then, he tilts his head, blue eyes assessing you hungrily.
“Why live here?”
You blink now. “Well, it’s cheap and safe?”
“Don’t you make good money?”
“Um… yeah but I have student loans out the ass for my failed creative writing degree.” You roll your eyes and sigh, earning his chuckle.
“Failed? Didn’t pass?”
“No, I did but it’s useless I guess now. I should’ve gone into medical and been a little smarter, but I didn’t listen.”
“Is it your passion?” You nod then, with a little smile.
Satoru can make it happen, surely.
“You could always stay with me.” You cough then, you all barely know each other. “I have a huge place, I wouldn’t mind.”
“I could never impose like that. Don’t feel so sorry, Satoru, I swear I’m good here.” You lean in now, Satoru leans down, big hand caressing your face, tilting your chin up, his look so intense you can’t breathe. Breaths come in quick pants as your gaze hits his plush, glossy lips, imagining them everywhere.
“It’s an open offer, if anything happens. I’ll be…” He smirks a bit, leaning even closer, so close you taste the sweetness of his cool breath. “All gentlemanly and everything.”
“Would you be?” He chuckles now, lips just an inch from yours, your chest is rising and falling, heart thudding at just what his touch does. “What if I don’t want you to be one right now?”
“What’re you asking, sweets?”
“I…” The phone rings now, you clear your throat, realizing you were about to beg this almost stranger to fuck you.
What’s wrong with you!?
“I am sorry, let me see who it is.” Satoru smiles good naturedly, but you don’t see the glare from behind you, as he scowls at the phone, seeing another man’s name. You text him that you’re busy quickly, earning a little relief for him.
“Boyfriend?” You whirl around now, eyes narrowing a bit.
“No, um… ex boyfriend. We were together for years though, even in college, so we keep in touch sometimes.”
Satoru’s jaw sets, and something… changes then, confusing you a bit, as he sets his drink down. “Who broke up with who?”
“Um, he did.” Your cheeks heat up now under his scrutiny. “I’m sure you don’t wanna talk about my ex though.”
Oh, he does.
He wants your attention all on him, and not a bit of that should be for your ex, who didn’t even want you!? How could anyone not want you? Your gorgeous face that fucks his dreams up, your perfect body like you’re built just for him, how sweet you are, and those damn eyes of yours. He can’t wait to see them fucked out, to see you drooling.
Can’t wait to make sure you never text this man again.
“Is something wrong?” You ask now, he smirks, brightening his face so you don’t figure out all his thoughts.
“Nah, sweets, just curious who’d break up with you.” His casual words hit hard, as he brushes your hair back now, leaning in again and you think maybe he’ll kiss you finally, but he just stares at you, holding your face with strong hands.
So strong he could really crush you if he wants, you feel so small in his presence, so overwhelming. Then he brushes his lips up and against your cheek, your eyes flutter shut, your body throbbing with need, but he pulls away after the little kiss on your face, those blue eyes glittering now, he grins all bright and beautiful, casually putting his hands in his pockets.
“Well, I’m off now, enjoy your night, huh?” You blink a bit at that, wondering then, is something not to his liking about you? You’re studying yourself in the mirror after he left, picking yourself apart.
Your makeup is perfect still, your outfit is sexy, you look really good, and you’d damn near been begging for him silently. Maybe he wasn’t interested? Then why did he look at you like that? You sigh now, washing your face and getting down to just your bra and panties, picking back up the phone and finally writing your ex back, then seeing a text from Satoru.
Satoru: Had fun, sweets. Good night.
You: I had fun too… you didn’t have to leave so early.
Satoru smirks, still in his car, watching your silhouette from behind your curtains, gently walking back and forth, he glares when he realizes you are likely naked or damn close to it. He is going to have to teach you some lessons, it seems, because you are already trying to show the world what’s his.
Or will be.
Satoru: It was getting late, did you want me to stay?
You: Maybe I did. Thank you for tonight though.
Satoru: No problem, love.
Love… that does something to you, Satoru does something to you, when your head hits the bed and you’re staring up at the ceiling. Your ex texts you again, but this time you ignore it, thoughts whirling, you still feel the touch to your cheek, having fucked you up more than even being intimate with someone.
Satoru Gojo, who was he really?
*****
“Hey, hey… what’s wrong?” Satoru knows what’s wrong, he is all sweet hugs and rubbing your back though when you are at his place the next week, sobbing against his chest.
“I’m so sorry… I… My landlord just kicked me out!? And I did nothing wrong, she said she’s renting it for triple to someone? I was past my lease, but shit.” Satoru smiles, but you don’t see it, buried against his strong chest as he strokes your hair softly, pleased that you came to him.
You’re such a good girl.
“Oh, sweetheart, it's okay. Shh.” He’s consoling you so sweetly, you pull back, seeing his concerned gaze as you blink away tears, swiping at your cheeks.
“I can’t afford three times the rent? Satoru I… I make decent enough money, if I could just pay you for a room until I find somewhere? I-”
“Nonsense.” He cuts you off, and your stomach flutters when he’s brushing a hand across your back, palm pressing into the fabric of your dress, like it’s burning you with a touch. “You stay here for free, save up money, yeah?”
“I can’t do that, I have to pay you something. It’s already a huge imposition-”
“Have you seen this place? It’s not shit to have you here, won’t cost me anything anyway.” You have seen it, his insane penthouse with a view that’s fucking ridiculous. It’s spotless, only the finest everything all over, you know Satoru’s very wealthy as a CEO but he screams old money too.
“I would feel terrible. Could I cook, pick up?”
“I have cleaners. Cooking though… yeah, you good at it?”
You smile tremulously, wiping your eyes again. “I’m so good! I also could give the best neck massages after work?”
“Now that sounds perfect. It’s a deal then, stay as long as you need, but cook yummy things. As for a massage, we’ll see if you’re good as you say.”
“Swear, they’re magic! Oh goodness, I have to get to my shift soon, ugh… is there a way you could help me get my things? I’ll just leave the furniture, it’s old, I can buy new shit.”
“Absolutely.”
You hug him tightly, kissing his cheek then, he tenses at it, at the brush of your lips, at the curves of your body against him. Fuck he can’t wait to make you his.
“Satoru Gojo, you're amazing.” He chuckles then.
“I know.”
*****
Living with Satoru Gojo, who walks around shirtless is… difficult. Your tummy clenches, mouth gulping the first time you see him, his chiseled perfect body, all dewy after a shower. Towel slung across his neck, sauntering over to you with that smirk of his, so casual as you’re in the kitchen chopping up veggies, he brushes his fingertips across your back, driving you insane.
Shivers slink down your spine when he leans over you, breath against your neck, you damn near arch back into him as he murmurs in your ear. “Looks yummy.”
Fuck.
You take a shaky breath, hands trembling as you then nick yourself with the knife, you wince then. “Ow, shit!”
“Lemme see.” He takes your hand gently, peering at the drop of crimson that pushes out in droplets then, the way he takes your hand even is too much.
Weeks of living together, walking around in arguably almost nothing in front of him, and he hasn’t hit on you, despite his eyes devouring you, like they’re touching you. No he’d smile and lazily trail his gaze, maybe brush against you in the kitchen, give you a hug after work, you’d rub his neck just so and he’d grip your wrists, smiling up at you, to the point you’re losing control.
All you can think of is him.
Satoru loves it that way, too, he loves hearing you murmur his name in your sleep, he’s got cameras all over, especially in your room, and he can even hear you on them. Your little whines of pleasure, he’d see how your hands would move under your blankets, as you stayed as quiet as can be, but he heard your whimpers, your sweet little moans.
He strokes his cock every night watching you, listening, waiting.
He needs you to really need him.
“Just a little nick, I’m fine.” You assure him, then your mouth drops as he takes your finger, sucking it into his mouth.
He’s sucking on your damn finger, hot wet mouth and the lewd images destroying the fragile hold you have on your sanity, snowy lashes lowered as he presses his tongue up on your fingertip, putting pressure. You stand there quiet, but then there’s a little sound that escapes your throat, a little whine, and when he pulls back he smiles knowingly.
He licks his lips, a drop of blood on them, tilting his head as he releases your finger now. “Better?”
“Um… y-yes. Thank you, Satoru.” You manage to speak somehow, your voice hoarse, you clear your throat then. “Clumsy.”
“Mind somewhere?”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
Another week goes by, Satoru watches you every chance he gets, when he’s at work he watches you on his phone, he’s got a tracker in yours, for your safety you know, when something concerns him. Your daily trips were work, maybe the store, and a couple times a week the gym. But you’re somewhere he’s never seen you at, and it concerns him then.
Where are you?
He zooms in on the location.
Someone’s house?
Satoru’s jaw tightens then, and when you’re home that night, you notice he’s not friendly, or sweet, or talkative. He barely responds as you try to engage with him, and when you go to rub his neck, he stops your hands with an icy glare. “What’s… did I upset you?”
“How could you upset me?” He stands up, looming so tall, you shrink back just a bit, the backs of your legs hitting the fancy grey couch, until you’re sitting in it, and Satoru’s arms are on either side of you. “How could you, sweets, hmm?”
“I… I don’t know? Um…” Your mouth goes dry when he gets on his knees, spreading your thighs, your breaths coming quicker, pussy throbbing around nothing, thinking of him, feeling his long slender fingers on your skin. “Satoru?”
“You’re a perfect girl, aren’t you? A good girl?” Your hips shift, his eyes dart down, smiling as he peeks under your skirt now, a wet spot forming on your panties, he can’t wait to finally taste you, when you’re good of course.
“Good girl? I… don’t know.” Your hands are at your side, his face is right against yours again, your thighs on either side of his body, pressing into him.
“What’d you get up to today?” He asks, all casual like he doesn’t know, as he assesses your body for marks, bites, hickeys. Your body belongs to him, even if you don’t know it just yet. He finds none, making him just a little less furious, but now he feels the plush of your thighs in his grip, picturing shoving them against your chest.
You’d look so sexy in a mating press, wouldn’t you?
“I um… went to grab dinner, then I gave some shit to my ex that I had left from the apartment.” Satoru exhales in relief.
“Oh yeah? I could’ve helped you, love.”
“No, it’s awkward. I was holding onto it, I decided to just let it go, he didn’t choose me, you know?”
“Who wouldn’t choose you?” You lean forward, his eyes dart to your breasts, as a strap slips over your shoulder.
“Satoru, you're too good to me, and why? How have I come to deserve you in my life?” He exhales, adjusting the strap with two fingers, brushing your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps, he watches your nipples perk up under your tank top, furious that anyone has ever seen them.
“Is that all? You gave him his shit?” He tries to hide his anger, his jealousy.
“That’s all.” You answer, and he stands again, leaving you wanting and empty when he’s not touching you.
“Should have asked me to help. I’m calling it a night, yeah?” You manage a little nod, he tilts your chin up as he stands over you, your body reacting so violently you’re shaking damn near, unable to stop the reaction. He smiles knowingly, leaving you then, and you glare at his strong, perfect back as he walks off, giving you a little look before going to his room.
Satoru knew you saw him somehow? You can swear it. Are you freaking out for no reason? Surely he didn’t care what you did, he maybe just wanted to make sure you were okay, maybe he could sense you were stressed somehow?
Then why is there this gnawing feeling?
*****
The next day you’re trying to get to work, and your car won’t turn over. You curse it out, it’s old sure but it’s strong and has a good engine. Satoru had already offered to give you one of his cars, saying you could pay him back later, as if you could ever afford a Mercedes Benz. You’d turned him down of course, and now he’s standing in his insanely huge parking garage, right out the side of your window.
You open the door, sighing as you get out of the car. “I don’t know what’s wrong with it, ugh!”
“It’s an ancient relic?”
“Hey!” You playfully shove him, laughing then. “It is, I guess. But I don’t know why it won’t start?”
“I’ll have my mechanic check it, he’ll love this archeology.”
“Satoru!” You’re laughing so hard then, god he always makes you laugh, you wish he’d make you moan but you throw those thoughts far back.
“I’m kidding, sweets, kinda.” He narrows those blue eyes, his jaw tensing just a bit then as he assesses your car.
Couldn’t be because he took out your catalytic converter.
“Hmm, maybe a dead battery or alternator went out?” Satoru looks at you amusedly, you’re cute, knowing something about cars. But he needs you to stop worrying about things like that.
“For now, I’ll take you to work, yeah?” You exhale, nodding then.
“Thank you so much, Satoru, you’re so sweet to me.” You say later, as he drops you off at work, top down, grinning with those Gucci shades hiding those baby blues, some of the girls from the bar are out front, they start giggling when they see the two of you.
“He’s so hot!?” One of your friends loudly whispers.
“Shh, I know!” Gojo hears you though, grinning as he swipes a hand through his snowy locks.
“Hello, ladies.” He says, getting out then to come open your door, earning the swoons of everyone. You smile gratefully at him.
“Thank you, Gojo.”
“No worries, tell me when to pick you up, mmkay?” You nod then, he gives you a little kiss on the head, and your friends make no secret of how fine they think he is.
“Is he your man?” Your other friend asks, you shake your head then, while Satoru gets back in the car. “Bitch, why?”
“Is he single?” Your other friend asks.
Something makes you sick then, thinking of seeing Satoru with other women, and surely it would happen soon, yeah? He’s gorgeous and can get who he wants, and he hasn’t yet shown he wants you. You peek back at him as he is starting back up his car, looking at your friend again.
“He’s single.” Satoru wants to laugh at you. He’s not single, you’re his already, you just haven’t gotten where he needs you.
“Why not date him?”
“He’s not interested. Drop it.” You hiss, waving at Satoru, he tilts his glasses down then, the unreal eyes behind the snowy lashes drinking you in.
“Have a good day, sweets.” He leaves a bunch of giggling, whispering friends and heat on your cheeks when he drives off, grin glinting in the setting sun, because now he knows just where you are.
*****
After two more weeks of living with Satoru, you’re at about a month with him, and despite the endless little brushes against your skin, the little touches while you cook, the hugs and pecks on your cheeks, he never makes a move. You moan just a little louder at night thinking of him, wondering then when you’d see him in the morning why he looked so tired.
You’re wondering about lots of things.
“Satoru, do you date?” You ask one day, and he looks at you lazily, trailing up and down your body the way he does, the way that makes you ache with longing.
“Do I date? I haven’t in a while, why?”
“You’re so… you?” He snorts then.
“What’s that mean?”
“Like, gorgeous? Smart and sweet? Rich? How do you not date?”
“When I get with someone it’ll be permanent, there won’t be any dating or fucking around, so I guess I’m kind of picky about it. Why? Would it make you jealous if I brought a girl over?”
Yes, yes it would.
“Oh, no, I’m cool with whatever. It’s your place, I just live here.” Satoru leans you against the counter then, barring you with strong arms, his thigh brushing between yours, he feels it then, the heat that builds as you shift your hips just a bit, eyes darting up to his.
“Wouldn’t mind if I fucked someone right here? Ya sure?”
“It’s your place.” You manage weakly again, watching thin nostrils flare, his pupils blown out as you shift again, and he feels your hot pussy against his thigh, your hands slipping up his shirt slowly. “You like to fuck, Satoru?”
He blinks now, shifting his thigh, tilting his head as he studies you. “You’re asking if I like to fuck?” You nod, just barely, and one of his hands slips down your side, his cock throbbing under his jeans, thinking about devouring your pussy right on the kitchen counter. He already has tasted you off those panties he stole, he imagines it’s even sweeter from the source. “Do you?”
Your cheeks flush, eyes lowering nervously, Satoru tilts your chin up, making you look right at him. “I didn’t like it much, no, but… I like to…”
“Play with your pussy?” You bite your lower lip, rolling your hips once more, waiting for him to break, but he acts casual as he’s ruining what’s left of your addled mind. “You brought it up, don’t be shy.”
“Yes, I like to. Do you… play with…”
“Slutty questions.” He smirks now, backing up, you look in horror as you realize you’ve left a damn wet spot on his thigh, but he brushes it with his thumb leisurely, lapping it off his tongue, leaving you with your mouth open. “Mmm. Have a good night, pretty.”
You’re shaking when you get to your room, literally dying over him, knowing he’s in the next room but won’t come near you is torture, but for him it’s fun. He’s watching you pace around your room avidly, damn near chuckling when you strip off your clothes so quickly, flopping on the bed and covering your face with your hands, pressing your knees together.
He’ll make you feel better soon, don’t worry.
But then, you pick up your phone, earning his glare that of course you can’t see, he picks up his other phone now, the one that shows him every message and call you make. Some guy has been trying to ask you out for a couple weeks, but you’d ignored him, like a good girl. Now, however… you’re texting him back!?
That just won’t do.
He’s so absorbed in staring at your messages, as you smile just a bit, wondering if there was a way to get under Gojo’s cool exterior.
Maybe a date with someone?
******
You’re dressed in some slinky outfit, it hugs your body just right, hitting about mid thigh, a black lacy little number. You step out of your room, his mouth drops open when he sees you, too much of your smooth skin revealed, your breasts on display for everyone who would see, you smile up at him all pretty and do a little spin as he grips his hands into fists.
He wants to rip that dress the fuck off you, bury his cock inside your pretty little cunt and fuck you hard, fuck you so hard you sob those eyelashes off, so hard your perfect hair is a tangled goddamn mess. Teach you that you’re his and only his, that you belong to him, have you cum so hard you can’t form anymore thoughts of ever leaving in your pretty head.
He can’t even speak when you nervously ask, “How do I look?”
How do you look? You look like you need your ass beat, your clit overstimulated to the point you beg him to stop, look like you need to get that pretty neck choked out by his big hands. And that little smile on your face, like you know just what you’re doing to him? Satoru’s teeth click together, jaw tensing now while he sits there on the desk chair looking at you.
“You look gorgeous. But then you always do.” You blush at that, lashes lowering at the praise. “But why so dressed up? Going out with… friends?”
You know he knows.
You hear it in his voice, in how tense it gets. You smile then, shaking your head, lacing your fingers together in front of you as you feel those blue eyes touching your skin. “No, I’m going on a date.”
Satoru’s little facade breaks for just a moment, he can’t keep it up just now, and it’s like you know, you’re being this little brat and not his sweet little thing right now. He can’t wait to fuck the attitude out of you, as hard as it’s making him. “Oh? A date, huh?”
“Yeah, it’s been a while you know.” You step up to him just a bit, smiling so pretty, devious little brat. “A while.”
“A while.” He repeats, voice hoarse, before realizing you’re trying to play him, aren’t you? “Since?”
“Since anything. This guy seems super nice, maybe he’ll… think I’m hot, you know? Be attracted too? We’ll see.”
“Who wouldn’t want you? That’s stupid.” He huffs.
“Oh, is it? Well I’m not everyone’s type, you know?” You blink those damn lashes at him, he raises a brow. “So we’ll see. But don’t wait up for me, hmm?”
“Don’t you need a ride?” He asks, as you head towards the door, grabbing your little purse now.
“Oh no, he’s going to come get me, don’t worry.” Satoru’s hand stops yours on the knob, hard body pressed against your back, your breath catches, quickening now, watching the veins raise on his hand, as it covers yours completely. “Something wrong, Satoru?”
“Just wanna make sure you’re safe, you should let me take you.”
“Don’t even impose yourself, I’ll be fine.” You turn and look up at him, his plush lips just a breath from yours. “Everything okay?”
“Of course it is, you can text me if you need me to get you though, okay?” You exhale now, slightly dejected.
You want him to say he doesn’t want you to go, fuck you want him to grab you and keep you here, he makes you feel so fucking toxic, the insane thoughts making your mind whirl, your tummy coil with desire. One of his hands grips your hip, and you feel his length against your back, your eyes shut as you grip the door knob so hard it hurts.
“I asked you something, sweets.” His grip tightens, you open your eyes again, looking up at him.
“Of course, Satoru.”
“Have fun then.” He is back to being a bright, happy Gojo, blue eyes glittering, letting you go when you ache for him to drag you against him. “Be safe, yeah? Creeps everywhere, stalkers even.”
He’s following you in his car as soon as you take off in this asshole’s car, he tracks your location and finds you’re at some restaurant, he sees you then, up front at a table shivering a bit in your slutty dress. Part of him thinks, that’s just what you get, but another part thinks, fuck this dude for not giving you his jacket, Satoru sizes him up with a flick of his eyes, fists clenching the steering wheel.
You keep peering at your phone, you don’t look like you’re really having fun, what are you playing at? Are you trying to make him insane, trying to make him more jealous than he already was? He was jealous anyone even fucking saw you altogether, he thinks how good it would be to breed you constantly, to keep you knocked up with his babies, stay at home for only his eyes to see.
The thoughts drive him insane, as does seeing this dude’s hand on your bare thigh now, thighs for him to touch, he is so furious he almost blows his cover, taking several breaths as he prepares to rip this dude’s hands off. How dare anyone touch you!? And then he gets it, your text.
Satoru, I’m so sorry, but are you busy?
Satoru exhales in relief, leaning his head back on the driver’s seat, brushing his hand across his face.
Having fun on your date?
Satoru is being petty but he can’t help it, he sees your cute little glare as you poke on your phone, and his hand slips higher up your leg.
Not really. I’ll be fine though, sorry.
Satoru panics now.
What’s wrong?
He watches as you type.
I feel really uncomfortable, could you please come get me? I’m so sorry to put you out like this…
Satoru comes right out of the car, walking across the street now, and your eyes widen in shock, lips parting as he saunters up, grinning and holding out a hand. “Hey pretty, wanna get out of here?”
“Excuse me!?” The man sputters, but you giggle, Satoru wonders if you’re the crazy one here, him or you?
“I’d love to.” You put your little hand in his, following him to his car then, when Satoru slides in however he cups your face, grip tight on you, his eyes glaring and fucking furious. “How’d you get here in ten seconds? Instant transmission like Goku?”
“You’re such a brat.” He mutters, glaring now as you grin, one hand in your hair, pulling, making you cry out, a sound that makes Satoru’s cock leak precum, just from the sound of you. “You did this it piss me off, hmm?”
“Why would you be mad, Toru?” You put a hand on his thigh now, leaning forward, showing more and more of your breasts. “You don’t even want me like that, haven’t you made it clear?”
He starts laughing now, he’s feral, manic in his insane laugh, pulling your hair even harder. “I don’t huh? Then tell me what the fuck this is?”
Satoru takes your hand putting it over his clothed cock now, you whimper feeling him for the first time, hard for you, his breaths coming faster and faster as you go to stroke him, earning his own throaty moan. “Are you jealous?”
“No, because he’s not shit, and you’re mine anyway.”
“How am I yours!? Don’t even kiss me. Don’t even-”
Satoru yanks you to him, slamming his lips on yours then, devouring your mouth, tongue swiping in every inch of it, swirling as he loses his fragile sense of control. You taste so good, you feel so good, he’s wanted you for so long, he’s brutal with his lips, with his teeth, with how he grips your chin so fucking tight. You’re falling apart for him, then, when he yanks back.
His breath is hot on your lips, his hand slipping between your thighs then, you can’t stop the cry that escapes your lips, when he finds you over your panties, soaking wet for him. “This for me, or for him?”
“Stupid- ah!” Satoru pulls your hair so hard tears prick your eyes, stroking you over your sticky panties.
“Watch that mouth, and that attitude before I fuck it out of you.” His whisper and his touch makes you drip down his fingers, you’re arching your hips as he touches you, pressing on your clothed clit now. “So you get this wet for me?”
“You get that hard from me?” You counter, he laughs again, shaking his head at your audacity, slipping his finger under your panties now, finding your bare cunt.
“Stupid fucking soaked, huh? From a kiss?”
“Just touch me, please…” You’re begging him now, leaning closer, lips pressing against his, drinking his moans when he shoves two fingers in your eager hole, stretching you and making you gasp. “Satoru…”
“Do you deserve to cum, after acting this way?” He demands, curling his fingers up in your slick walls, pressing that spot that has your eyes rolling back, entire body reacting to him, dripping down his sleeves, his watch you’re so wet. “Answer me.”
The first slap on your cheek shocks you with the sting that throbs, you glare at him, slapping him back on his pretty face, earning him gripping your wrist brutal as his fingers fuck into you. The car is heating up right in the middle of the damn street, you hear your pussy squishing, hear your cries and gasps.
“Asked you a question, sweets. Seeing your ex, going on a date, showing off this body to everyone? Ya think you’re a good girl?” You shake your head then, and he groans, kissing you messy, tongues drooling saliva, thumb finding your clit now, and you’re close, so close, clinging to him.
“N-no but… please…” He laughs as he pushes you to the edge, sucking you off his fingers then, groaning, cheeks hollowing.
“Fuck you taste even better than your panties.”
“My what!?”
“C’mere, ya wanna be a good girl for me?” You blink rapidly, nodding then, and he revs up the car, pulling out, you are jostled as he begins to drive like a maniac, you’re grasping him, half thrown on his lap.
“Where are we going?”
“Home. You’re gonna make it up to me, being so slutty, huh?”
“Slutty?”
“Slutty mouth.” Satoru unzips his pants then, and you gulp when you see him for the first time, thick and long, veiny cock so pretty, the tip pink, drooling drops of precum already. You stare at it, he feels it as he drives, peeking at you now, grabbing the back of your hair again. “Put it to use, and I’ll let you cum.”
“Fuck…” You have never done something like this, but you find yourself bent over him then, taking your tongue and lapping at the precum on his tip, while he drives with one hand, his other, entangling against the nape of your neck.
“Gonna be my perfect little slut, no one else's, huh?” You nod eagerly, you’re stupid, this man literally stalked you on your date, he’s acting possessive and psychotic, but your pussy is clenching around nothing. “Say it.”
“Your perfect little slut.” You whisper, he moans then, husky and guttural as you suck him in your mouth now, hot and wet, swirling your tongue around the ridge of his tip, earning his hips bucking, cock twitching.
“That’s it, I knew you could behave. There you go, good girl.” You’re trembling, sucking him deep in your throat, over and over as your cunt is drooling, dripping down the panties that are becoming soppy wet and pathetic like you. “Feel that slutty mouth, never gonna suck anyone again, are you baby?”
“Mmm…” You’re moaning eagerly, sucking his cock as deep as you can, he’s shoving your head fully down to where you’re slobbering all over him, tears pricking your eyes, you’re shaking while he uses your throat, your mouth, as your taste his salty precum, shoving it in your throat deeper and deeper.
“F-fuck… you’re finally being good, huh? Bet you wanna cum, bet your pussy is soaked, yeah?”
He knows you can’t answer, he’s loving the choked out sounds you’re making as you suck him down more and more, until he finally pulls up to his house, he pulls you off him, cock glittering with your saliva. He moans, kissing you again, teeth sinking into your lip, tasting himself off your tongue, you’re whining, trembling, he chuckles just a bit then.
“Look at you, sucked it that good? Should I fucking be mad?” He demands then, you gasp at his touch on your pussy again.
“It’s been a long time for me, okay?” You whisper, he exhales now.
“No one will touch you again when I’m done, yeah? No one.” You nod weakly, Satoru smiles now. “Good, you’re so good f’me.”
Satoru’s got you in his penthouse so quickly you’re disoriented, and as soon as the door is closed behind you, he grabs you, slams you against the wall, and kisses you again, hard and desperate. His hands slips down to your ass, squeezing it roughly in his big palms, long fingers pressing in as he takes over everything, making you moan into his mouth.
You can feel his cock pressing against your tummy now, thick and insistent, on your tummy, half put up, his pants unzipped, and you can’t help but arch into him, rubbing against him, tip toeing to get close. He’s so rough with you, so demanding, and it’s making you wetter, making your body respond in ways it never has before, it’s insane what he’s doing to you.
He shoves a hand back up your dress, twisting your panties to the side again, rubbing in teasing circles, as tears fall out of your eyes, looking at them and moaning. “You’re crying?”
You manage a sniffle, fuck you looks so perfect like this, in tears for him, it only makes Satoru’s cock spurt more precum, so hard it hurts, he can’t wait to bury it so deep in you, he’s picturing it as he slides his fingers into your soaked cunt. You moan loudly, you’re tiny hands clinging to him, leg around his hip, letting his fingers fuck you deeper.
“Hear it? You’re so loud, so messy, huh?” He’s whispering, all you can do is nod, pupils so blown out your eyes are dark. “Look at you, fucked out from my fingers? That won’t do, baby.”
You barely register his fingers sliding out of your pussy again, you whine at the emptiness, but then he’s on his knees, shoving your dress up over your hips, yanking your panties off you. He’s throwing one of your legs over his shoulders, bright blue eyes staring up under his snowy lashes, you’re clinging to his hair, chest rising and falling as he places a kiss on your pussy.
“You were so good, I’ll treat you so good, hmm? Make you feel s’good?” You just nod, earning a smack on your pussy, making you gasp. “What do we say, little slut?”
“Please.” Satoru Gojo then his face buried between your legs, his tongue sliding along your slit, tasting your arousal that starts pouring down his mouth. You gasp as he nibbles on your clit, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh, sending bolts of pleasure through your body.
He’s eating you out like he’s starved, slutty moans from both of your throats, your head slamming against the wall. His stupidly long tongue is moving in circles around your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you, and you can’t believe how good it feels. You’ve never been with a man who’s so hungry for you, who devours you like this, his fingers making your squelching wetness even louder.
Your hands entangle in those silky white locks as he fingers and licks like he’s always known how to, but it comes so natural, flicking his tongue against your little twitchy clit over and over. Your cunt is so wet his fingers slip, before shoving back in, pressing your spongy spot inside your little hole, all while you’re a pathetic mess, sniffling and hiccuping.
He can’t wait to make you stupid for him, beyond this, beyond anything, can’t wait to own you, possess you in every fucking way. As he sucks your tiny clit in his hungry mouth, he moans against it, looking up and watching you shatter for him. You’re so close to cumming, you can feel it building.
“Gonna cum, please, please-” You whine out, gasping, thighs shaking as you’re too weak to stand, but then he stops, leaving you gasping for breath, your body on the edge, pulsating all over through every vein..
“Beg for it.” He orders, sadistic smirk on a face half soaked with you, as he licks his lower lip, glossy.
“Please, Satoru, please make me cum.” You whisper, your voice shaking, and he groans, shocking you when he yanks you down, you slam onto the ground wincing and gasping as you hit the floor, and he starts palming at your dress, until he’s ripped it completely off you. “Satoru!? What!?”
Your dress is in pieces now, much to his pleasure, all you have now is what’s left of it under you, and you’re naked aside from heels and a bra. “You’ll never wear that fucking dress again, got me? Showing off what’s mine when I wasn’t even with you? Do you hear me?”
You nod then, you should be terrified, but fuck you want him too much, as he shoves your thighs up high, then dives back in, his tongue swirling around your clit, his teeth grazing it again as he bites it. You scream out at the pain, he shoves those fingers back in, three this time.
“Too much, too much!” You’re sobbing out, and he laughs now.
“No baby, your slutty pussy can take it, huh? Lemme hear you scream my name.” He shoves his fingers in so deep and his tongue is drinking you as your orgasm hits you, your body convulsing against his mouth, your juices flowing onto his face, everywhere.
You can hear him, lapping you up, drinking every bit, all while the best orgasm of your existence makes you blind, you’re floating, the only thing that tethers you is when he looks down at you, fingers still buried. He slams his lips back on yours, you taste your pussy on his lips, whimpering and clinging to him desperately, bare as he’s fully dressed.
“You’re made for me, only me to taste, just me.” You just nod, and he chuckles, shaking his head. “Can’t talk baby?”
“You, jus’ you… Toru…” He’s picked you up to stand, before he’s pulling you up against him, holding your naked frame against him, carrying you to your bed now, lips not coming up for air until he’s tossed you on your bed.
“Bra off, now.” He orders, you do as he says, tossing it and then peeking at the camera you know is there, smiling before you look back at him. He’s glaring, unbuttoning his dress shirt now. “Looking at something?”
“Oh, nothing. Do you record? Will you stroke yourself to this later?” He slips off his shirt, leaving you speechless until he’s laying on top of you again, eyeing your perfect tits and little smile.
“You knew?” You tilt your head now, leaning up on your elbows, a hand stroking his cheek.
“Did you like how I played with my pussy in front of it? How I moaned your name?” Satoru’s ended now, scowling at you.
“You liked it, being watched? By me?” You nod again, swallowing as he slides off his pants, yanking off your heels, kissing along the tops of your feet before lapping at your ankles. “You did it knowing?”
“You wouldn’t come to me.”
Satoru’s eyes are on you, you’re his entire world now, his obsession, his fixation. He’s going to claim you, fuck you until you forget every other man who ever existed. He’s going to ruin you, and you’re going to love it, he can already tell when his cock is hot and heavy against your inner thigh, when your hips are rolling up, and you’re dripping down the bed.
“You get off on it, me being fucking obsessed, huh?” You nod weakly, and Satoru has your thighs spread and pressed up, his tip drooling precum against your aching hole. “Then let me be clear, you'll never see or date anyone again, got it?”
Satoru grins sadistically as you weakly nod, whispering a- “Yes, Satoru.” He moans then, filling your tight hole in one stroke of his huge cock, stuffing you so full you scream out, pussy gripping him like a vise, drooling down his veiny cock to his balls, pooling under you both as his own eyes roll back.
“Feel her, made f’me, just me? Mine, mine, mine.” He’s whispering it like some insane mantra as he begins to move, fucking into your soppy cunt over and over, you’re pulsing and fluttering around him as he pounds your cunt, nasty words spilling from his pouty lips. “My little slut, hmm? Mine.”
“Ngh…” Is all you manage, when he slams your cervix with his drooly tip, leaning up to grip the headboard and pressing a thigh higher, railing your cunt so much it hurts, but you’re dying, drool pooling out of the side of your lips, eyes fluttering, trying to stay open.
“That’s it, oh look at you, fucked stupid already? I’m just starting with you, baby, gonna fuck your pretty mind up till it’s all me.” He leans down, rolling his hips and grinning with his eyes lit up, so dark they look black for just a moment. “That’s it, cum all over my cock, can’t help yourself huh?”
You do then, you’re cumming all over him, muscles contracting around his cock so hard she tries to push him out with the force, so much wetness dripping it’s streaming across his cock, earning his breathy moan. He’s fucking you through your orgasm, your thighs shaking, you are stupid, you can’t form one thought in your pathetic brain as your orgasm waves over your body.
“Aw, fucked dumb? Poor stupid baby. I’ll keep fucking all those thoughts out of your head, hmm? Till it’s just me.”
“Satoru… jus’ you… s’good I…” You can’t talk anymore, not when his cock’s strokes are hitting just right, not when his tip drags against your gspot before bruising your cervix. You’re clinging to him, nails pressing into his strong back, as pulls back, watching your tummy bulge.
“Fucking up your guts, fucking up your brain. S’all me, huh?” You can’t answer, you’re too fucked out, but his slap brings you too, he smacks both cheeks, gripping your thighs brutal, leaving bruises. “Focus, baby, focus.”
“S’all you…” You answer, you’re so obedient, you’re so good for him.
“You’re such a good girl, perfect pussy, perfect body. Perfect face. Haunting my every fucking thought, torturing me.” He shoves your thighs high, pressing them against your breasts, folding you in half and bottoming out, you scream at it, hands gripping the sheets beneath you as you’re stretched and filled so much. “You’re so good you deserve all my cum, all these babies in you.”
You can’t register concern, he’s pounding you while gripping your face so tightly, you feel so tiny as he works his long, muscular body, as he breaks your body and mind with his cock, slamming harder and harder. You hear the sounds of it, the smack smack smack of his skin, as his balls slap your asshole, covered in slick from your cunt that’s drooling down his length.
“That’s it, milk my cock, so fuckin good, you want it, me to fill you, make you drip me for days.” You just weakly cry out, sniffling, tears pouring down your cheeks. “So beautiful like this, crying f’me? Oh baby, you’re perfect like this.”
Satoru loves your tears, your trembling lips, as you grip him so good, he feels it, you’re going to cum again, eager pussy sucking him in loudly, as he fucks you so hard the headboard slams the wall, you’re barely hanging on, sobbing and mumbling. You’re so fucked out it’s cute, opening and closing your mouth, unable to speak.
“It’s all me in there, yeah? Gonna be all me, gonna fill you so good, baby just wait, f-fuck!” Satoru slows then, pumping your cunt full, hot gooey cum sticking to your walls and making you cum right with him as he fucks it further, deeper.
“Satoru!” You’re mumbling his name, gasping for breath as he fills you, all of you, so hot and deep, until he finally lowers your legs, laughing softly.
“Oh I’m gonna have so much fun with you, you’re never leaving me, are you? Aw, can’t talk baby?”
He’s got you flipped on your trembling knees next, burying his face in your pussy, cleaning all his cum out and groaning. “Too much, too much!”
“Taste us together, fuck. Made for me, just me.” He’s on top of you next, prone over you, fucking out his first load and prepping you for another, all while he’s choking your neck squeezing so hard you almost faint. He’s whispering in your ear, breath tickling, hands over your sensitive skin. “Love it, hands around this neck, beg me to cum in you, fill you.”
“P-please… please fill me- ah!” You’re fading as he chokes you harder, spitting and drooling in your mouth, cock wrecking you as he fills you again, his sweat dripping from his skin as he works you. He groans then, hand pressing on your tummy.
“So full of me, but you need more, need no question in your pretty head who you belong to.”
After another load you’re weak, and he’s still going. When you finally wake in the morning, after several loads pumped in your pussy, you’re a mess, wobbling weakly as you step out of your room, thinking of facing him. Would things be different now, was it all passion, in the moment? Was it just sex? Was it more…
You smell something sweet then, inhaling as you slip on one of his dress shirts, you’d gone from fucking in your room to the bathroom, all the way to his room. At some point he had you bent over the couch, at another he had you pressed against the shower wall. It’s like little fragments, your pussy is aching, your experience has never prepared you for his size or stamina.
But you feel deliciously fucked out.
You catch his eye then, he looks at you, exhaling at how beautiful you are, your eyes are a little puffy from crying, you have bruises and marks littering your neck, you’re wearing his expensive dress shirt and nothing else. He feels himself hard just looking at you like this, remembering all the cum he’d pumped you full, wondering if it was still dripping out?
“Good morning, sweets. Get some shut eye?” He teases, winking at you as he flips his spatula, finishing the stack of pancakes he’s made.
“You cook, Satoru?” You ask, throat hoarse from your moans, from slobbering all over his cock and having him choke you. You clear it nervously, earning his smirk.
“Cute.” He murmurs, pulling out a chair for you. “Of course I cook, I just enjoy you cooking for me, so sexy watching you, barefoot in the kitchen you know.”
“That sounds so…”
“Sit down, you need that energy baby. Last night I know I took it easy…’
“What!?” You blink then, sitting as he plates your breakfast, wincing at how sore your entire body is.
“You’re so fucking beautiful, look at my girl.” The words ruin you, when he leans down, cupping your face and his thumb brushes along your jaw. “Covered in bruises.”
“I am?” You look down and see your thighs, your chest, in hickeys and bruises, red and purple all over. “Oh…”
“Don’t worry you’re not going anywhere today anyway. You should take a break from work, you know.” He chuckles and kisses you. “Fuck I’ve waited so long for you, for you to be mine.”
You are kissed by him then, you eagerly meet his lips, before he pulls back, taking a breath. You frown when you see your phone is over by his coffee. “Is that my phone?”
“Oh, mmhmm. Needed to block any guys, you know, also that period tracker said you’re ovulating today.” You blink again as you sip the orange juice he gives you, nearly choking on it, his blue eyes have gotten even brighter, his grin huge as he watches your expressions.
“Satoru…”
“I threw out your birth control, cancelled your prescription.”
“Satoru!”
“What baby?” He sits you up on the table, between your thighs, your body violently reacts when he grabs you under your chin, his other hand slipping down your breasts. “I know, I should have breakfast first, is that what you want?”
“I… you…”
“Gonna look so fucking sexy full of me.” He lifts your thighs, sliding up the shirt you wear as he sits right on the seat, sliding it up to get a full view of your abused, puffy cunt. “Oooh, fucked her up. Do you hurt, baby?”
“Y-yes… I- ah!” Satoru’s lapped at your pussy now, from your hole to your clit, chuckling as he pulled the lips apart. “T-Toru…”
“Look at her, she’s ready for more, she’s so greedy.” He’s buried his face against you again, and you’re cumming so quickly, he laughs at it. “So easy, too. Ah we’re gonna fill her up more, don’t worry, gotta knock you the fuck up.”
You’re going to protest then, this is insane, he’s crazy, but when you’re getting bent over the kitchen table and fucked again, you soon forget your protests, as Satoru grips your tits and pinches your sensitive nipples, pounding your hole, all you can do is cry out and arch your back. Satoru smiles against your neck as you fall apart, as he pictures breeding you.
He’s got you right where he wants.
And you both know you’re never leaving.
Ahahah this was INSANE, none of this is cool unless it's Gojo, stay safe out here lol. Hope you all enjoyed! (yes all my stories are Arctic Monkeys or Chase Atlantic lyrics loll)
Taglist: @silvarys @strychnynegirl @indiewritesxoxo @alygator77 @moonlitwitchdaisy @cuntphoric @aldebrana @levislug @haruhatake @ninikrumbs @xixflower @star2112 @nanasukii28 @sukuxna0 @naammiii @uhnosav @victoria1676 @thequeenofcurses @targaryenluvs @jinjen @yesdere @shokosmokes @aishi-toru @labelt-san @chiyokoemilia @makingtimemine @seeing-stars-alt @bunheadusa @alt--er--love @1satoruu @thikcems @plimplimmeiododoi @watermelonslut
#yandere gojo#gojo x reader#jjk smut#gojo smut#jjk x reader#satoru x reader#jujustu kaisen#jjk gojo#yandere jjk#satoru gojo x y/n#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#satoru smut#gojo satoru#satoru gojo x reader#yandere satoru x reader
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ANNOUNCEMENT: I NO LONGER SHIP FRARNEY (Fred / Barney)
So I'll be honest. When I first got into the Flintstones fandom, I was incredibly young and naive. (For starters, I thought the show featured documentary footage of real cavemen, dinosaurs and prehistoric technology.) But over the years, as I got deeper into not just the series lore but also the behind-the-scenes aspects of the production, I began to realize that it was a just a cheaply animated knock-off of The Honeymooners and all the storylines were nothing more than stock mid-century sitcom plots mixed in with puns on the word 'stone.' The writers, tasked with churning out 30-episode seasons of childish drivel, would not have had the bandwidth to craft hidden messages to the show's audience about a secret love between two crudely drawn Neanderthals. Furthermore, as I began to question the validity of my once-cherished ship, I found myself under attack by increasingly toxic 'Dark Frarnies' who review-bombed my earlier fanfics into oblivion. The fact is, while shipping Fred and Barney may have brought me joy during a dark time in my life (I had recently been exiled from the Jetsons fandom for what was, in retrospect, a misguided pairing of Rosie the Robot and Astro the Dog) I just don't feel at home in the Frarney community anymore. And while it may be bittersweet to say goodbye, at least I can still find consolation in my folder with over 10,000 hyper-realistic, anatomically correct Scrooggi (Scrooge McDuck x Yogi Bear) drawings.
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Writing a Schizophrenic Character: Everything But Hallucinations
Plain text: Writing a Schizophrenic character: Everything But Hallucinations
Hey! Mod Bert here.
So: you’ve decided to write a character with schizophrenia or schizoaffective disorder (there are other disorders on the schizophrenia spectrum but I will be focusing on these for today)
You’ve done it, you have their hallucinations and maybe even delusions picked out. Maybe they are one of many who experience auditory hallucinations or maybe they also have visual hallucinations or a combination. Maybe they have olfactory hallucinations as well. They may have persecutory delusions or delusions of reference or something like Cotard’s delusion or clinical lycanthropy. Awesome, you’ve done it!
What, I hear you say? What do you mean that’s only 2 of the 5 components needed to be diagnosed with schizophrenia? What do you mean, you don’t need to hallucinate at all to be schizophrenic?
What Goes Into a Diagnosis of Schizophrenia
Plain Text: What goes into a diagnosis of schizophrenia
Not a lot of people realize there’s more to schizophrenia and schizoaffective than just hallucinations or delusions. There are 5 diagnostic criterias that are needed for schizophrenia, and only 2 of the 5 are needed for a month, with larger symptoms happening for six months or more. Let’s get into it.
Delusions
Hallucinations
Disorganized speech or thinking*
Disorganized or unusual motor behavior (catatonia)*
Negative symptoms (avolition, anhedonia, flat affect)*
I’m going to focus on disorganized speech/thinking, catatonia, and negative symptoms.
Disorganized Speech/Thinking
Plain Text: Disorganized Speech/Thinking
Schizophrenia and related disorders are often called “thought disorders” for a reason. Speech and thinking can be extremely affected, and for people like me this can be one of the first and most striking examples of an episode coming. Some people will always have disorganized symptoms that will flare during episodes. A myth is that schizophrenia can be indistinguishable with medicine: most people will have some level of symptoms even during moments of peace or “remission”. More on remission later.
So, disorganized speech. Some examples are: word salad (schizoaphasia), thought blocking, poverty of speech (alogia), pressurized speech, clanging, and echolalia.
Word salad: a combination of words that do not make sense together. Often called schizoaphasia for its similarity to jargon in Wernicke’s aphasia, this is instead a disconnection with the brain and not due to damage to the language part of the brain.
(Example: the salad would be yellow in the fat cow).
Thought blocking: A severe loss of thought, often paired with connecting two trains of thought that are not connected
(Example: I went to the………Do you like grapes?)
Poverty of speech: A lack of organic responses to speech or organically speaking, it can be severe enough that a person only responds to questions or in one word responses. Can also happen in severe depression.
(Example: Person A: Did you do anything fun today?
Person B: Yes.
Person A: Oh, what did you do?
Person B: Store
Person A: How was it?
Person B: Fun)
Pressurized speech: A sort of frenzied way of speaking associated with psychosis or mania.
Clanging: Connecting phrases together because of what they sound like instead of meaning
(Example: I went bent tent rent).
Echolalia: Repeating word’s and phrases. Commonly also associated with Autism Spectrum Disorder.
(Example: Person A: I went to the store.
Person B: To the store.)
These are not the only examples but they are some ones I thought I'd highlight, either because they’re well known or I have experience with them, or because they’re famously thought of with other disorders as well and I wanted to point out how things overlap.
Personal experience: I had severe alogia for the duration of my last and worst episode. People thought I was mad at them because of the clipped way I spoke and the lack of really speaking. It got me in a lot of trouble. I didn’t realize what I was saying was different or weird (I have the least insight when it comes to my speaking patterns affected by my schizoaffective, meaning I can’t hear any difference and all of this is from repeated conversations with my mom, who was my caretaker for a bit and knows the most about my speech and what it means). The best solution was talking with people and being honest and educating myself and others. I don’t know about others, but I couldn’t have used AAC at that time.
Catatonia
Plain text: Catatonia
Fun fact: catatonia means unusual motor behaviors! Any unusual motor behaviors mean catatonia. This includes what we think of when we think of catatonia in schizophrenia (inability to move) as well as the opposite (being unable to stop moving) as well as strange movements and ways of holding and moving the body! Catatonia in the DSM-5 includes 3 or more of these 12 behaviors:
-Agitation unrelated to external stimuli
-Catalepsy
-Echolalia
-Echopraxia
-Grimacing
-Mannerism
-Mutism
-Negativism
-Posturing
-Stereotypy
-Stupor
-waxy flexibility
I have some experiences with catatonia-like symptoms but since they were never identified as such I’ll skip those for now. I will say that catatonia is a symptom that can happen in many disorders besides schizophrenia as well.
Negative Symptoms! Yay!
Plain text: negative symptoms! Yay!
So a positive symptom (Hallucinations or delusions) are symptoms that add something to reality or a person. Negative symptoms are symptoms that take away. There are 5 A’s:
-Alogia (Again, poverty of speech, our favorite)
-Avolition (Lack of energy and motivation)
-Affect (Blunted affect, or a flat way of speaking)
-Anhedonia (Lack of pleasure in things that used to bring you pleasure, often thought of with depression)
-Asociality (Lack of interest in social events and relationships)
There are also often cognitive changes including thinking and memory, information recall, understanding, and acquisition, and so forth.
Schizophrenia and schizoaffective often (but not always) happen with what’s called a prodromal period. This period can be months to years (mine was a little less than a year) and mainly consists of negative symptoms. Slowly, positive symptoms are added. There are thought to be stages to schizophrenia including prodrome, active phases, and remission.
I’ll talk about that a little for a second because I’m currently in remission and no one knows what that means. I was diagnosed with schizoaffective depressive type in January 2021. As of February 2024, I no longer qualified to be rediagnosed because my symptoms were strongly under control and no longer severe enough to qualify for a diagnosis. They also didn’t distress me or impact my daily life severely. Day to day now I still have mild symptoms and take my antipsychotics (trying to go off them have made it clear that I still have some symptoms I choose to keep medicating) but I haven’t had a delusion in 2 years and been hospitalized in 3. There’s always a possibility of another episode but I work with my team to keep myself one step ahead if that happens.
What I want from a character with schizophrenia
Plain Text: What I want from a character with schizophrenia
Alright the writing advice part. What do I want from a character with schizophrenia or schizoaffective (which is schizophrenia plus either depression or bipolar).
-Characters with caregivers.
-Characters using coping strategies (recording hallucinations to tell if theyre hallucinations, taking medication, having service animals that greet people so they know if they’re a hallucination, using aids for the cognitive symptoms like sticky notes and organizational tools)
-Characters who know other characters with their disorder, either online or in support group or through running in similar circles
-Characters having autonomy
-Characters who aren’t the killer or horror victim. I know it’s cool to have the schizophrenic protagonist in horror, and I love horror, but I don’t want to read about the horror being symptoms the whole time
-Characters who are in magical scenarios, who are in fantasy and sci-fi. The schizophrenic princess and the schizoaffective robot technician aboard the spaceship.
-Medication and hospitalization treated casually. Sometimes we need higher care. That’s morally neutral
-Characters with negative symptoms and speech symptoms.
-Characters with catatonia!
-Characters with other disorders as well
-characters with side effects from medicine treated casually
-Characters with cognitive symptoms
Thank you for reading this incredibly long thing! Happy writing!
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oh and by the way, i love you.
♡ ◞ includes: caitlyn, ekko, jayce, jinx, mel, sevika, viktor, vi.
☆ ◞ summary: first 'i love you's with (character)!
△ ◞ warnings: gn! reader. pre-established relationship (caitlyn, jinx, mel, viktor). friends-to-lovers (ekko, jayce, sevika, vi).
CAITLYN KIRAMMAN
It's quiet, the early morning blessing you both with a peaceful silence that allows you two to truly appreciate the sight in front of you— each other. Caitlyn enjoys moments like this, waking up with you, getting to see the way the rising sun filters through her curtains to cast a golden glow across your skin.
Her hand, which is in yours, gives a gentle squeeze. You give her a sleepy smile, and she chuckles as she leans in to press a quick peck to your lips, and then another, and another, before you're both shuffling together, closer. Legs and arms entangled, a slowness in you both knowing that neither of you have to leave anytime soon.
"You know," She whispers, her eyes shut. She had imagined how she'd say this a million times, wondered when it'd be the right time, but Caitlyn quickly realizes that perhaps the right time is the time she makes to say it. So she makes the time. "I love you."
Your heart skips a beat, and you pull away to look at her. Her eyes open, and you can see the panic flashing in her eyes- was it too soon? did she get confused? had she-
"I love you, too." Her tense form immediately relaxes again, and she buries her head into your neck, shaking her head as she lets out a breathless laugh. You laugh along with her, both of you feeling nerves and excitement at those words.
"Don't scare me like that," she whines against your skin. Indulging this rare side of Caitlyn, you gently pat her back, cooing at her.
"'m sorry, 'm sorry, won't happen again." You'll definitely respond faster next time!
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
EKKO
Ekko had been acting quite strange as of late, and had you been any less keen you'd just assume he was busy- but this was different, he was most definitely avoiding you! Which is why you devised a plan to corner him and get to the bottom of this whole situation.
It was like any other day, except you had been lying in wait. Waiting, and waiting, until he was finally alone. You continued to follow him to a secluded area. "Ekko." He tensed up, but recovered quickly as he turned to glance at you.
"Oh, uh, hey, what's up?" Was he serious? You cross your arms over your chest, giving him a pointed look. Ekko's guilty conscious is clear as day when it comes to you, from the way his Adam's apple bobs to the way his fist clench and unclench. You frown.
"Ekko..." He doesn't say anything. "Alright, I'll ask it. Why have you been avoiding me?" He falters, looking ashamed. He knew it was wrong to avoid you, but when he came to realize how intense his emotions were for you it freaked him out. He hadn't... He didn't mean to... well, fall in love, during such a time.
The silence is heavy, and you debate just leaving, before Ekko clears his throat. "There are things that I've been meaning to tell ya... I'm just having a hard time finding the words..." He scratches the back of his neck.
"Like?" You press, needing to know what has been so hard to say that he's been avoiding you.
"Like... I love you?"
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
JAYCE TALIS
"Jayce? What are you doing?" Jayce, with his hand respectfully on your lower back, guides you away from the boring and artificial conversations of Piltover's finest. He excuses you both, much to your dismay. "Where are you taking me?"
"Somewhere private," He says through a tense smile. You soon find yourself down the hall, away from the party but still able to hear it's chatter. It seems Jayce hadn't prepared for what comes after he got you away from those flirty elites.
"Well?" You ask, head tilted in a questioning way. "Are you going to explain why you so rudely pulled me away? I was about to get some nice funding for your-" Jayce cuts you off, desperation rolling off of him in waves.
"Because I love you," He says, "And I can't stand to see them look at you, touch you-" He stops to take a deep breath before he gets himself too worked up. "Look, I know... I know you probably don't feel the same, and I understand if you don't, but-"
"Jayce," You call once, and like an obedient dog he stops everything he's doing. Instead he waits, hanging on to your words. Your arms wrap around his neck, and you pull him into a kiss. It's needy, filled with want and love and passion. Until you can't breath, you wait until you can't breathe to pull away, and look him in the eyes.
"I love you."
For the first time that night, Jayce's lips curl into a genuine smile. It's so bright and warm you get weak in the knees and butterflies in your stomach.
"Can we ditch the party now?"
"Oh definitely."
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
JINX
"Wrench!" Jinx calls dramatically, hand stuck out and awaiting her tool- which you promptly hand to her, repeating her words 'wrench.' She giggles as she grasps the wrench and twists a few bolts on her latest invention.
When she finishes, she takes in inhale of breath, ready to shout the next tool she needs, but already in her hand is a can of spray paint. She blinks a few times- how did you know? She grins, looking back at you, before looking at the can of spray paint.
"This is why I love you, ya know that?" She says, not really processing the words until you say them back to her.
"You... You love me?" The shock is evident in your voice. It's not that Jinx hasn't shown her love, her affections, for you, but this is the first time she's vocalized them and it has your heart hammering in your chest. She blinks a few times, lifting her goggles to rest on top her head.
"I did say that, didn't I?" She says, more to herself than to you. She then looks you in the eyes, that sparkle in them has your throat tightening up. "Yeah, I love you." You try to speak, truly, but you can't get a word out. "Jeez, is it that surprising, thought it was obvious?"
"No, it's just-" You finally manage to speak. Actually, you finally manage to get a good look at her. Her cheeks are a little flushed, she's fiddling with her tools, she's nervous- she's vulnerable- and you feel a protective instinct come on. "I love you, too- I really, really love you."
She laughs nervously, turning away from you. That's enough emotional vulnerability she's willing to share today. "Yeah, yeah, let's not get too mushy, 'kay?" You don't push it, instead nodding along. "Uh, anyways... Hand me that wrench again...!"
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
MEL MEDARDA
"You don't have to say it back," Mel Medarda has always been diplomatic, even in your relationship. She's also always been rather guarded, keeping all her cards close to her chest- but she allows you from time-to-time to catch a peak behind her walls. "I just wanted to let you know. I... I love you."
Undoubtedly, you love her back. You've loved her from the moment she smiled at you- Mel was hard not to love. Which is why you're having a hard time responding, because how could you even possibly begin to explain just how much you love her?
Mel begins to grow withdrawn, those small anxieties nipping away at her mind. Did you not feel the same way? Had she embarrassed herself with her little display? Did she ruin this relationship in one phrase? She takes a step away from you, wondering if she should take her leave.
Thankfully before than can happen, you've caught her wrist and meet her eyes.
"I love you, too." A breath of relief leaves you both. "Mel, I... I can't even begin to explain, I mean, it's just that you... god, you, you definitely deserve a better response than this mess but, I mean it, truly. I love you. I've loved you since the moment I saw you. I'll always- I'll always love you."
"Darling..." Mel started to feel flustered, your earnest rambling getting her cool and collected persona to crack a little. "I get it."
"Right, sorr-" Before you can apologize for your cute, anxious rambling, Mel shuts you up with a kiss. Something that symbolizes that you both understand just how much you both mean to each other.
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
SEVIKA
Sevika can't help but crack a smile at your antics sometimes. She's watching you with a close eye as you dance in an exaggerated way, being goofy in a way that's so very rare in the undercity. She shakes her head as you sit in the seat across from her, wiggling your brows. "Dance with me?"
"Not a chance in hell." She snorts, "How you made me fall in love with you is still beyond me." Sevika takes a drink, not noticing what she said. You, on the other hand, have gone still. "What's wrong with you now?" She asks, already exasperated.
"You love me?"
"What're you-... Shit." She definitely didn't mean to say that, but now that it's out there, she might as well commit. She downs the rest of her drink, clears her throat, and looks away from you.
"And if I do? Would that be a problem?"
"Not at all- I love you, too!" Your enthusiasm has her taken aback once more. She looks at you incredulously, searching your face for any sign of lying or messing with her. She finds nothing but genuine love. Shit, shit, shit. Sevika was so totally unsure on how to handle this.
"You love me, huh?" When you nod, eagerly, Sevika bites her cheek. Well... She supposes if it's you, she could try and give it a shot. "I guess, yeah, I do love you... so... what're we gonna do about that?"
You had a few ideas.
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
VIKTOR
"Yes, yes, I understand." Viktor says as he wraps the scarf you gifted him around his neck. "I'll be back tonight for dinner, not to worry." You don't really believe him when he says that, still you help him zip up his winter coat.
"If you're not," You say, taking a step closer, your lips hovering over his. "I'll personally drag you back here." Your lips meet his and he hums into the kiss, pulling away with a small smile.
"I'll be here." You just hum dismissively. You'll believe when you see it. He rolls his eyes at your sass, opening the door and stepping out. "Alright, I'll see you then. Goodbye, I love you." He closes the door, and just as quickly he's trying to pry it back open.
You're laughing your ass off on the other side of the door whilst Viktor's ears turn red. "Dear, please, open the door, I forgot my keys... and I need to say those words properly..." he groans, his head resting against the door. After a few seconds, the clicks unlock and it opens to reveal you, tears in your eyes from laughing.
"This is not funny."
"It's a little funny." You tease, handing Viktor his keys. "I lov-"
"Wait," He halts you. "Let me... Let me say it properly." His blush moves from his ears to his cheeks. He takes your hand and presses a sweet kiss to it, looking up at you through his lashes. "I love you."
"I love you, too, Viktor."
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
VI
You're patching her up after a particularly brutal beating. Her job, these missions, can get pretty violent, and it's always up to you to heal her wounds. 'I don't trust any other doctor,' she explains before you inform her that you are not a doctor. Despite that she still finds you after every fight she gets herself in.
You sigh, cleaning a nasty cut on her face. "You've got to be more careful." You tsk, reveling in the way she hisses at the disinfectant. It's what she deserves after scaring you to death all these times.
"Worried 'bout my pretty face?" You scoff, rolling your eyes at her.
"More like your brain- I'm afraid you can't afford to lose anymore braincells." She laughs at your snark. She likes that about you, likes everything about you, actually. Her hands find your waist, pulling you closer to her. You huff, pulling back to get a better look at her wounds.
"Hey," Vi calls, and you just hum in response. "I love you." You freeze, before looking down at her with wide eyes.
"Did you actually get brain damage-" She bites back another laugh, shaking her head. "Vi...?"
"I love you. Have for a while, so no, this isn't a brain damage confession." Oh. You falter for a second, hands shaky as you finish placing the band-aid on her cheek.
"If you're messing with me-"
"I'm not." She insists, earnest in her affections. "So... Do you-"
"Yes." You mumble, turning your face to hide it from her. "I... Love you, too, Violet."
#arcane x reader#arcane headcanons#arcane imagines#caitlyn x reader#ekko x reader#jayce x reader#jinx x reader#mel x reader#sevika x reader#viktor x reader#vi x reader#x reader#arcane#arcane x you#arcane fluff#fluff
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PAIRING — ni-ki + f!reader
WARNINGS — best friends to lovers, riki’s experienced, he’s sweet but still a tease by heart, some begging, fingering, oral (f. rec), pet names, squirting.
WORDCOUNT — 1.2K
NOTE — my riks pussy eater agenda never ends . . sorry for leaving this on a slight cliffhanger >< perhaps i can make a part two if any of you are interested, lmk your thoughts thru my inbox or what not <3
“Ki, would it be weird for a girl not to squirt?” you asked suddenly, catching Riki completely off guard. He choked on his drink, coughing uncontrollably at your unexpected question. “SORRY!” you exclaimed, hurriedly patting his back as he tried to recover.
“You could’ve given me some warning,” he said, wiping his mouth as you sat on the bed, lips pouting.
“Why’d you ask?” he questioned, his brow raised, though it was clear he wasn’t entirely surprised by your curiosity.
“I mean… you’ve had experience with girls, right? Have you made them cum or, I don’t know, squirt before?” you asked hesitantly, your pout deepening as your cheeks flushed. Riki fought back the urge to lean in and kiss you right then but managed to keep his composure.
“Well,” he started, leaning back casually on his hands, “I have sex to enjoy myself and to give pleasure. So yeah, sometimes they do, sometimes they don’t. It depends on the person.”
You muttered under your breath, “Man, am I weird,” not realizing he heard you.
“Why would you be weird?” he asked, his gaze fixed on you, making you squeak as your face burned with embarrassment.
“N-nothing! It’s just a random thought,” you stammered, laughing nervously, but the way he looked at you told you he wasn’t buying it. Finally, you sighed in defeat.
“Okay, fine. All the times I’ve had sex with men, I’ve never cum… or squirted. Ever,” you admitted, your words spilling out before you could stop them. “And now, my friends keep talking about how amazing their sex lives are, and I feel like there’s something wrong with me because I’ve always had to fake it.”
Riki was silent for a moment before speaking bluntly. “That just means those men suck at pleasing women.”
Your eyes widened as he suddenly leaned closer, his hand gently holding your chin, tilting your face toward his. His dark eyes locked with yours.
“Want me to show you how it’s really done?” he asked, his voice low and steady, though the strain in his sweats betrayed how much he was holding back. The room grew quiet, the air charged with tension as you blinked at him, your heart racing. Finally, you managed to whisper, “P-please.”
That was all the confirmation he needed. Without hesitation, Riki closed the distance between you, his lips crashing into yours as he pulled you into his arms.
He pushed you back onto the bed, his hands roaming over your body before slipping beneath your shirt. A small whimper escaped your lips as your fingers tangled in his hair, giving it a light tug. Riki smirked at your reaction, his lips trailing down your skin before settling near your bottom half. Pausing, he looked up at you, silently seeking permission. You couldn’t trust your voice, so you simply nodded. With one smooth motion, he slid your pants and panties off, exposing you to his gaze. His hands spread your legs gently as he adjusted his position.
“Don’t think about me too much tonight, princess. This is all about you, okay?” he murmured, his voice soft yet commanding as his hands caressed your thighs. “Can I?”
“Y-yes,” you breathed out, a strangled moan escaping as his fingers finally explored your wet folds. He began rubbing slow, deliberate circles on your clit, coaxing more of your arousal to pool between your thighs.
“T-there’s lube in the drawer,” you whispered shakily.
“Okay, sweetheart. Let me prep you a bit, yeah?” he replied sweetly, leaning over to grab the bottle. After squirting some onto his fingers, he returned to you, his touch warm and careful.
Gently fondling your folds, he slid one finger inside, stretching you just enough before adding a second. His pace was slow, deliberate, each motion igniting waves of pleasure as his fingers worked you open. You sighed in relief, soft moans tumbling from your lips as he fucked you with precision.
“Feels nice?” he teased, his thumb now stroking your clit in time with his fingers. A high-pitched moan slipped out as your back arched.
“R-Riki~!” you whined, throwing your head back as the pleasure built.
“Such a pretty pussy,” he murmured, his voice filled with adoration and lust. “Gonna give it the love it deserves.”
With that, he leaned down, his lips finding your clit as his tongue replaced his thumb. His warm mouth suckled at the sensitive bud, his fingers never faltering in their steady rhythm.
A needy whimper escaped you at the added sensation, your hips stuttering against his face in an attempt to get more of him. The slow, deliberate pace felt maddening, your body trembling as the pleasure overwhelmed you. Riki simply chuckled against you, the vibration sending a fresh wave of heat coursing through your veins as he focused on drawing every ounce of pleasure from you.
“That’s it, pretty. Let go for me,” Riki murmured, pulling his fingers from your pussy before leaning down to give soft, kitten-like licks to your folds. His tongue teased you mercilessly, his lips suctioning onto your clit for just a moment before pulling away again. He repeated this agonizing rhythm, slow and deliberate, until your impatience boiled over.
“Riki…” you whined, your voice shaky and breathless.
“Hmm?” he hummed, feigning innocence as his slow, gentle touches continued, driving you to the brink.
“P-please,” you pleaded, looking down at him with desperate, glossy eyes. “Need more… just go faster, harder—I don’t care, just please.”
A devilish smirk played on his lips. “As you wish, princess,” he whispered, his voice laced with dark amusement. Without hesitation, he slid his fingers back inside you, this time pumping them faster and deeper. He curled them expertly, finding that spot that had your back arching off the bed, all while his tongue worked your clit with unrelenting precision.
High-pitched whimpers spilled from your lips, mingling with the lewd, obscene sounds of his fingers and mouth as they worked in perfect harmony. The room was filled with the slick echoes of your arousal and his focused attention, and it didn’t take long for an unfamiliar knot to tighten in your stomach.
“W-wait, Riki—!” you gasped shakily, the strange sensation growing too intense. But your protest only spurred him on. His fingers curled deeper, his tongue swirling faster as your body trembled beneath him.
And then it hit. The knot unraveled, snapping violently as your release gushed from you, soaking his lips and chin. You cried out, your body spasming uncontrollably as the pleasure overwhelmed you. Riki drank it up greedily, savoring every drop before planting one last, tender kiss on your folds.
Rising above you, he kissed your trembling lips, his smirk softening as he wiped a strand of hair from your damp forehead. “Well, there you have it,” he said with a satisfied grin. “You’re not weird, princess. You just needed the right man to give you the right treatment.”
You blinked up at him, still delirious from your high. “Y-yeah… um,” you mumbled, your mind struggling to catch up with what had just happened.
He chuckled, brushing a thumb against your cheek. “Don’t worry, angel. If you want to return the favor, I’m all for it—but only if you’re ready. No pressure.”
“Let me help you too, please?” you whispered, your wide, pleading eyes meeting his.
Riki cursed under his breath, his resolve nearly crumbling. “Fuck, you’re so cute,” he muttered before pulling off his shirt. He adjusted your position beneath him, the warmth of his skin pressing against yours.
“Just know I won’t be able to stop, princess,” he warned, his voice a low growl as his lips brushed against yours. “Hope you’re ready.”
PERM TAG LIST — @bussolares @rikiives @contyynishimura @aanniikkaa @lilmarsh-t
#( tfwbluu )#enha x reader#enhypen smut#enha smut#niki smut#niki x reader#riki smut#riki x reader#ni ki smut#ni ki x reader
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BABY TRAP? LIKE THE MOVIE WITH THE TWINS?
description… you two are meant to be. sealed by fate, star crossed lovers. you’ll keep each other around however you need to.
warnings… dark content! baby trapping! noncon! obviously they’re being baby trapped they say something trying to stop it. consensual sex. full penetrative sex.
a word from the writer… i’ve had this in the drafts for aWHILE. it’s about time. do yall still read dc? i’ll never stop supplying… are we too woke now?!
TRAPS YOU
you’re hot under him, and he’s making that face he always makes right before he cums. it’s like repetition; eyes blanked out, mouth ajar but not fully open, brows furrowed like he’s desperate— and it’s scary.
“baby,” the word is cut in two with how fast he’s going, tease of pain as he hilts into your cervix with every thrust. “baby, you’re not wearing a condom.” your voice is uneasy, shaky from the movement and pleasure and build up. you think, in a way, the way you have sex is unfair. he gives you so much, orgasm after orgasm, rubbing your clit as he drills you to the point you go fucking stupid.
you feel safe with him. sex is sacred with him, no matter how sick it gets. but right now, with your calves pressed into his shoulders, his hands pushing your thighs impossibly back, you feel uneasy.
“baby, baby, pull out.” he gasps, sweat dripping down right near your eyes as a shaky groan escapes him.
“fuck,” a chaste kiss to your forehead, a shakiness in his movements, an unmatched rhythm as he gets closer and closer. “fuck. oh my, god. you feel so fucking good— so fuckin’ good.”
and so does he. but you’re scared.
“you’re gonna make such a good mommy, gonna be such a good mama. gonna— gonna give you my babies. gonna get you pregnant, gonna make you mine.”
“hey, wait,” your hands raise to his chest but he hits that angle that makes your eyes roll and they fall back. it feels so good you almost don’t care. “baby, baby, baby stop. baby, you gotta pull out.”
“you’re gonna be such a good mommy. gonna give you my kids. gonna give you my kids.” and it’s instant. it’s before you can even think— if you could anyway— it’s pressed so deep in you you betray yourself and cum, too.
he places his head to yours, kisses you greedy and whole, and whines into your mouth. it’s him, it’s real, it’s love. but— and you know this— it’s something so wrong.
“did you just…?” and before you can finish your question, he’s regaining his rhythm, fucking his cum into you with a half hard dick. it’s precise, it’s calculated, it’s intention.
he looks at you, eyes wide, breath heavy, and gives you a little grin. “gonna keep fucking you even when you’re pregnant, baby. gonna make sure i can keep you all to myself.”
GOJO, GETO, SUKUNA, YUJI
GETS TRAPPED
your legs hurt. you’ve been on top for all of thirty minutes, which you have no one to blame other than yourself. you love to edge him, love to get him so close and then take it all away from him. you think it gets him a little addicted.
but right now, as he squirms under you, losing every ounce of masculinity he’s ever had, something takes over you.
“gonna cum,” it’s breathless, short and sweet. “oh shit, i’m gonna cum.” you think he must think you’re edging him again. you think he’s expecting you to slow down, stop all together, pick up off him fully for ten or so seconds and then slam back down.
but you pick up the pace, grinding your hips into his, hitting his pelvic bone with your own as your hands grip at his pecs.
“wait, are you—” he falls apart under you, voice failing him, body failing him, hands only finding the strength to grip at your hips. “baby girl, i’m gonna cum.”
it’s melodic, tactile and articulate, a steady flow of bounces while your squelch fills the room.
“sweetheart, you gotta stop.” your right hand lifts from his chest to his mouth, shoving your fingers between his lips while he groans. he’s so easy to you, for you, because of you.
and then you feel it, milk it, relish in it— the way he comes undone at your touch, loses himself deep inside you. you don’t say a word about it, don’t think about it too much as you press your wet fingers to your stomach.
it���s a quiet giggle as reality washes over him. he looks cute, you can’t help but realize, panic and flushed under you. you’re sure of it then; he’s gonna be a sexy dad.
MEGUMI, NANAMI, CHOSO, TOJI
#sick and twisted mind#jjk x reader#jjk smut#toji smut#gojo smut#geto smut#megumi smut#nanami smut#yuji smut#sukuna smut#choso smut#toji x reader#gojo x reader#geto x reader#megumi x reader#nanami x reader#yuji x reader#sukuna x reader#choso x reader#gojo satoru x reader#geto suguru x reader#megumi fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#nanami kento x reader#yuji itadori x reader
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Stolen Siblings and 10 Year Plans
poly!wolfstar x Rosier!reader who is to go nowhere near them under any circumstances [667 words]
CW: fem!reader, siblings, rivalries, chaos and fluff
“Oi! Rosier!” Sirius called, dodging a few first years who went careening by him as he made his way over to the Slytherin table. “What’s the deal with your sister?”
Evan fought (and lost) against an eye roll as the hand currently gripping his spoon tightened.
“For the last time” he seethed “I have no bloody clue what a wrackspurt is.”
“No, not that one.” Sirius dismissed with a wave of his hand. “The other one.”
Evan’s eyes narrowed at the Gryffindor. “Y/N?”
Sirius smiled. “Yeah; what’s her deal?”
“What do you mean ‘what is her deal’?”
“You know…is she single? Does she like blokes? Do you know where I can find her?”
Sirius had barely gotten the end of his sentence out when Evan’s hand slammed against the table, earning him a look of concern from Dorcas who protectively slid her bowl of porridge closer to herself.
“Why in the buggering fuck would you want to know?” Evan demanded.
Sirius offered a flippant shrug of his shoulder. “She’s fit, yeah? I’m thinking of asking her out but thought I should check first.”
“I thought you were dating Lupin!”
“I am dating Lupin!” Sirius confirmed with a wide smile just as Remus appeared behind him.
“‘Lo, Rosier. Meadows.” Remus greeted.
“Lupin.” Dorcas greeted in turn, though Evan didn’t bother with the pleasantries.
“Oh come on! What’s with you bloody Gryffindors?! Your weird friends already stole Reg!”
Sirius’ brows furrowed as he looked towards the offending weird friends currently sitting on either side of his brother at the Gryffindor table.
“Stole? Wasn’t he technically mine first?”
Evan didn’t grace that with a response, simply pushing his bowl away from himself and making to stand.
“No. Nope. Absolutely not. I cut my losses with Reg, I made peace with the Hufflepuff,” Evan stated, gesturing vaguely to Regulus and then to Pandora who was sitting nearly on top of one Xenophilius Lovegood, “but Gryffindors?! Not a fucking chance.”
“Awe, come now, Rosier, there’s no need for that-” Remus started, but was interrupted by Evan calling Barty’s name.
“You rang?” Barty drawled as he jumped down from one of the high windows, apparently having been enjoying his breakfast from above.
“They’re doing it again.” Evan complained.
“What do you mean?”
“These two fancy Y/N.” He explained petulantly as he gestured towards said two.
“Again?! What is with you Gryffindors?!” Barty screeched, turning to ask what Sirius assumed to be a rhetorical question. “First Potter and Evans ruin our Blackier wedding-”
“The what wedding?” Remus asked cautiously.
“The Black-Rosier wedding, Lupin, do keep up.” Barty spat at Remus’s interruption. “Do you know how adorable my nieces and/or nephews were going to be?!”
“When in Merlin’s name was Reg and Y/N dating?” Sirius asked then.
“They weren’t.” Dorcas offered in monotone. “Barty just likes making 10 year plans.”
“But…other people’s?” Remus tried, but the conversation was swiftly moving along.
“Go find Y/N,” Evan directed Barty, “she’s to go nowhere near these two.”
Barty’s interest seemed positively piqued at that; foiled 10 year plans forgotten. “Oh! A little game of finders keepers? Don’t mind if I do!”
And the two Slytherin’s were off.
“Are…are you boys going to do something about that?” Dorcas asked after a few beats of silence, gesturing towards the direction that the two boys had just disappeared with a flippant thumb.
“She’ll sniff those two out in a matter of minutes and avoid them like the plague.” Remus snorted as leaned forward to pluck a strawberry from the spread. “Besides, we’ve got a secret weapon.”
“Astronomy tower.” Sirius offered conspicuously as he folded the map up and tucked it back into his pocket.
“Brilliant.” Remus confirmed, offering Dorcas a salute. “Best be off.”
“Stay out of trouble, will you?” Dorcas called after them, though she knew it was a lost cause.
“You know what, Meadows?” Sirius returned as he followed Remus backwards. “I don’t think I will.”
Dorcas let out a chuckle turned sigh. “Figures.”
#marauders era#marauders au#marauders fanfiction#reader insert#self insert#remus lupin#sirius black#wolfstar x reader#wolfstar x you#poly!wolfstar#poly!wolfstar x reader#poly!wolfstar x you#poly!wolfstar x rosier!reader#rosier!reader#poly!wolfstar imagine#poly!wolfstar blurb#poly!wolfstar drabble#poly!wolfstar fic#poly!wolfstar ficlet#poly!wolfstar fluff#the slytherin skittles#best friend barty#best friend!barty#ellecdc fics
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hey!! can you do one where you run into professor agatha at the library while doing homework and it ends with her making you sit on her cock without moving while you study and you're impatient and she ends up fucking you right there in thar secluded corner (with lots of overstimulation and daddy kink if you're comfortable with that?)
Inspiration struck for this one today so hope everyone enjoys
I just started a new semester so probably won't be posting as much but I will do my best to keep writing and putting stuff out regularly. Also will be pausing any Agathario x reader fics for the moment
Learning to focus
When you run into Professor Harkness at the local library while you're supposed to be working on a project for her history class, you find yourself distracted by her (again)
Word count: 4.3k
Warnings: public sex, GP Agatha, fingering, cockwarming, daddy kink, overstimulation, it really was agatha all along, slight humiliation?, hints of degradation
The Westview University campus library is always packed, so you usually opt for the local library about twenty minutes away from the school.
Much quieter and way less crowded.
And you don’t have to worry about running into any failed situationships or crazy roommates from past years.
Plus it’s a really nice library, two stories with long glass windows stretching from the ceiling to the floor. Even when you don’t have school work, you often enjoy coming here just to read or play on your computer. It’s a peaceful place, a place that lets you just relax and forget about the outside world and all the stress you feel.
Stress mainly from one class. Your history class.
Professor Agatha Harkness was the only one who taught U.S. History when your schedule could allow it, which meant you had to ignore all the bad reviews on RateMyProfessor.com, because you had no other option.
On the first day, you could see exactly where they came from.
One boy had shown up five minutes late, practically a miracle on the first day of classes, stammering an excuse about how bad traffic was, Professor Harkness had fixed him with a glare and told him that he better drop the class.
You were just thankful that you had a class before hers, otherwise you would’ve been late, too.
She was just as mean and ruthless and cold as everyone said she’d be. Her assignments were almost outrageous and she graded them so harshly it was honestly impressive you weren’t failing yet.
But the one thing the reviews forgot to mention was how attractive she is. Her long, dark hair that she’d often keep back in a ponytail. Her sharp blue eyes that reminded you of the ocean on a dark night. Her high cheekbones, her pointed nose, her wicked smirk, honestly, everything about her.
You suppose the more impressive thing is that you aren’t failing with how often you get distracted by the way her fingers on her left hand tighten around the dry-erase marker when she’s drawing time-lines on the board. When she sways her hips and flexes her knuckles which tightens her veins, you feel a tugging in your gut and you have to bite your lip.
And you definitely should not be noticing the bulge in her pants when she sits back with her legs spread in her chair while the class is taking an exam.
You have an optimal seat, all the way to the right of her desk and in the front row, so you can take her in without her noticing you too much.
If anyone looked too closely at you, they’d assume you were sweating because of the forty-five multiple choice and five written questions you had to answer in only a little over an hour.
That wasn’t it.
You swore she saw you looking one time, one particular day when she was wearing a blue flannel and loose fitting cargo pants. You were staring, so completely distracted when you should’ve been taking notes that you didn’t even notice she had dismissed the class.
It wasn’t until you finally realized that she was stalking toward you that you had fucked up. You had swallowed roughly and moved to shove your stuff into your bag when she had put her hands on your desk and leaned in, causing you to completely forget how to breathe.
“You seemed a little preoccupied there,” she murmured in a low voice, her hint of cologne tickling your nose. “Try to pay better attention next time. Don’t want to have to teach you a lesson.”
You had promptly nodded and almost ran to your dorm to fuck yourself to the thought of her teaching you a very different kind of lesson.
Professor Harkness is in your head, and you can’t get her out no matter how hard you try. Except right now, you really need to focus, because the end-of-semester project is due in a week and you haven’t started.
Did she give you the entire four months of the course to complete it? Yes. But you have never been good at working ahead or at time management.
She had assigned a ten page paper along with a hand-drawn timeline about something that had happened in the history of the United States. You had picked the Salem Witch Trials, and Professor Harkness had winked when you got the topic approved by her.
So you’re about to spend the next probably five hours in the library trying to make some headway on this project. The timeline should be easy, but it’s the paper you’re worried about.
You go up the stairs and wind through the aisles of books on the second floor until you get to your secluded corner, the one you always go to, the one with a small table and two chairs hidden by bookshelves and gasp.
Your favorite spot has been taken by none other than Professor Harkness. She’s sitting in the chair you usually sit in, pen between her teeth, staring at papers.
When she looks up, she doesn’t even seem surprised to see you and a slow grin spreads over her face.
“Professor, what are you doing here?” You ask, fiddling with the straps on your tote bag. Should you go somewhere else?
She chuckles. “In a public library in the town where I live?”
Your cheeks burn. “Right. Um, I’ve just never seen you here before.” And then you inwardly kick yourself because now it sounds like you’ve been on the lookout.
“Wanted to get out of the house,” she shrugs. “Have some papers to grade for that project due next week. How’s yours coming?”
“Oh, really good,” you lie, shifting your weight and trying to think of a quick way to get out of this conversation. “Almost done. Well, I don’t want to bother–”
She interrupts you by sliding the chair out next to her and patting it. “Why don’t you come show me what you have? I can give you some help, free of charge.” She winks, a glint in her eyes, and it makes your stomach twist.
“Oh, Professor, that’s not necessary,” you say nervously but she tsks and waves dismissively.
“Please, call me Agatha. It’s the weekend and we’re off campus. Now, come sit.” She makes it clear it’s an order and you gulp before taking the seat. Even being this close to her is affecting your body and you know there’s absolutely no way you’re getting anything done.
She’s currently grading a paper about the Boston Massacre and it’s drenched in red ink. You’re not sure which you feel more of: annoyance at your over-achieving classmates or absolute dread for how Agatha is going to react when she finds out that you haven’t even started and, even worse, lied about it.
You take a shaky breath, feeling her intense gaze on you. “So, the thing is…” You trail off, reaching down to pull out your laptop. You set it on the table and slowly open it, silently begging for the floor underneath you to open up and swallow you whole.
Anything would be better than this humiliation.
“Yeah?” Agatha breathes, suddenly much closer to you. You will your eyes to not look away from the computer screen and type in your password, praying that you didn’t leave anything that embarrassing up.
It opens up to the blank document titled Salem Witch Trials, just so it’s clear to Agatha what exactly this page was supposed to be.
You’d rather it have been porn.
Your professor chuckles slowly next to you. “Thought you were almost done?” She simpers in that gruff voice that drives you wild. “Did you get distracted again?”
Agatha leans forwards, resting her elbow on the table, and perching her head in her hand so she can peer at you. Your eyes glance over to meet hers and then back to your computer, but in your peripheral vision, you can see her body tilt toward yours and her legs open just the slightest.
Your mouth runs dry and you make a pointed effort not to look between them.
“What’s gotten you so preoccupied, babygirl?” She asks and you clench around nothing at the shift in tone and the pet name. Holy fuck. “I’ve seen you staring in class, you know. You’re not very subtle at all.”
Forget being swallowed by the floor, you might just combust out of pure embarrassment.
You try to stammer out something, an apology maybe, sorry for wanting to fuck you, Professor, but no sounds come out of your mouth. Her other hand comes up and teases a lock of your hair and you finally work up the courage to look at her.
Agatha’s eyes are heated and dark, all the blue practically gone, and her lips are parted just so. And then you flick your eyes down to between her legs involuntarily and you have to bite back a whimper because she’s fucking hard.
You can see her length through her navy pants and your brain short-circuits. Agatha likes this. Agatha likes you.
“Is that what gets you all hot and bothered? Can’t focus because you’re too busy staring at me?” Agatha asks, hand dropping to palm herself. She gives her dick a quick stroke and lets out a tight sigh and you have to hold onto the table to steady yourself.
Heat rushes through your body in an almost unbearable way. “Yes,” you whisper hoarsely.
Agatha takes her hand off herself and taps a finger to her lips. “Hmm,” she draws out thoughtfully. You can feel a puddle growing in your underwear. “You know, I’m used to the crushes. Doesn’t even phase me anymore, usually it’s college girls who are just so desperate for attention. Not getting it anywhere else and they think that their fifty year old professor will be into them.”
Your jaw clenches. Is this the part where she rejects you?
But Agatha smirks and looks you up and down, takes in your squirming body in the chair. “And I never have even considered it. Until you. None of them have been as delicious as you, pet.”
And it makes your head spin. It’s almost as if you’re in a trance when your hand grabs onto her thigh and Agatha lets out a low moan.
“Please,” you say, desperation in your voice. What are you asking for? You don’t even think you know.
Agatha tuts. “Do you really think you deserve anything? This paper is due in a week and you haven’t even started. Doesn’t seem like you should get a reward for procrastinating, does it?”
“It’s not my fault,” you whine before you can even think about it. There’s something about this side of Agatha specifically that makes your mind turn to mush.
She raises an eyebrow like she’s daring you to say that again. “I think you need to learn how to keep that pretty head of yours focused.” She nods to the computer screen. “Make an outline.”
You swallow roughly and straighten up, putting your hands on the keyboard. You’ve just switched tabs and begun googling “Salem Witch Trials” when Agatha’s hand lands on your upper thigh.
You freeze and glance at her out of the corner of your eye to find her scribbling another note on the paper in front of her. You don’t know how she’s so calm and collected when you feel like your entire body is on fire.
“Focus,” she tells you in that deep voice of hers and you click on the first result that comes up as her fingers begin to toy with the hem of your skirt.
You try, you really do try, but it’s so fucking hard to read the words on the screen when she’s inching closer and closer to your underwear, which you can feel is absolutely drenched.
And soon enough, she’s going to feel it, too. You can almost hear her dark laugh already when she realizes just how affected you are.
Her fingertips brush against you and instead of laughing, she gasps. “Oh, pet, no wonder you never pay attention in class,” she coos and a thrill runs through you despite how embarrassed you are. She effortlessly finds your clit through the fabric and rubs it and you have to sink your teeth into your bottom lip so you don’t make a sound.
“Agatha,” you say under your breath and you can practically hear her smirking. Why is it so hot that she is still grading the paper as she starts to run her fingers up and down your pussy over your underwear? She dips in at your entrance and a muffled groan tears itself out of your mouth.
“Is this what you’re like while I’m teaching, too?” She muses conversationally, but you look down just in time to see her cock twitch in her pants. It makes you feel even more exhilarated, knowing she’s just as affected. But then she moves your panties to the side and slides her fingers through your folds and you forget any train of thought you had. You really hope your wetness isn’t as loud as it sounds. “Dripping for me like a little slut? Getting yourself all worked up when I’m talking about the Declaration of Independence? It’s pathetic.”
You whimper, maybe in agreement, maybe at how good it feels when she pushes a finger into you, but her eyes slightly glaze over at the feeling of your warm walls around her.
“God, Agatha,” you moan, your own hand coming down to wrap around her wrist when she starts moving. You can feel her flexing with each thrust and your tongue presses against your cheek as you breathe heavily, leaning toward her.
She presses a quick kiss to your head and scrapes her teeth against your ear before hotly whispering, “Better be quiet, babygirl. And focus. Or I’ll stop.”
You manage to type out three bullet points worth of information when she slips another finger into you and you clamp a hand over your mouth before you moan obscenely.
Agatha leans over to read what you have so far. “Who was the first woman to be executed for witchcraft?” She asks and you realize that you never finished that sentence.
“Bridget Bishop,” you gasp, and she swipes at your clit as a reward, sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine.
You continue to type, hoping it’s making sense because you can’t even comprehend the words, while Agatha continues to twist her fingers inside you roughly and rub your clit. You can feel your orgasm slowly building, and it only makes it worse every time Agatha hums right into your ear at something you’ve written. Your walls are clenching around her, trying to draw her even further into you, and she can tell you’re getting close, you’re going to cum so quickly around her fingers.
“There we go pet, such a good girl for Daddy,” she says into your ear and you spasm all around her, the name sending you right over the edge.
Who knew you’d like that so much?
Apparently Agatha did, who grins like a cat getting her cream as she fucks you through your orgasm with her fingers, keeping a steady rhythm on your clit. You taste blood from biting your lip so hard but you manage to keep quiet and you finally come down from your high.
But it’s not enough, you need more, and judging by the straining of Agatha’s cock against her pants, she needs more, too.
You move to touch her but she slaps your hand away. “Not yet,” she growls and it sends another blast of heat through you. You think there might be a wet spot on the chair underneath you.
It only makes it worse when she reaches down and undoes her own belt, fiddles with the button exasperatedly, and finally unzips her pants. She reaches inside and your jaw drops open when she pulls out her hard and leaking cock. It’s big, big enough to make your mouth water, and it almost looks painful. Agatha gives herself a few strokes, hips jumping, and she hisses when she rubs her thumb over the tip.
“Think you can focus while you sit on Daddy’s cock, babygirl?” She taunts. You’ve never felt so empty in your life, you need her so bad, and she’s right there.
You almost want to bend down and take her into your mouth, taste her hard cock.
“I asked you a question,” she reminds you roughly, slapping your thigh to get your attention. The sting makes you jump. “God, you really do get distracted easily.”
You mumble an apology, cheeks flushing. “I can focus, I promise,” you say, trying to sound convincing, but neither of you believe it. Regardless, she smirks and pats her legs and you do a cautious sweep of the surrounding area. This is incredibly dangerous and if you get caught, you both will get in serious trouble.
But for some reason, the thrill of getting caught only turns you on more.
So you stand up and straddle her and sit down, taking her cock in one fell swoop. She goes in easy with how wet you are and you bottom out in her lap, the both of you groaning quietly with restraint.
“Fuck, babygirl,” you hear Agatha huff and you squeeze your walls around her in response. It makes her thrust up and you inhale sharply at the feeling. She is so big and you can feel her throbbing inside you. “Better keep working.”
You lean forward slowly to move your laptop closer, the stretch absolutely delicious and she chuckles when you gasp as you settle back onto her. Agatha wraps her arms around your waist and you really do try to be good and focus, but every so often, she shifts beneath you and it hits that spot so deep inside you and you can’t help but squirm to try and get more.
Would she notice if you slowly start moving? Most likely, but it’s worth the risk. You give the gentlest roll of your hips and Agatha moans low into your ear before her fingernails dig into your hips through your skirt to still you. “Don’t even think about it,” she whispers dangerously so you’re forced to sit without moving on her cock that is filling you up better than anything ever has before.
It’s sweet torture and you write a few more sentences before you can feel your wetness dripping down her cock and out of you. Every so often, you’ll clench around her, too, completely involuntarily, of course, and she’ll buck into you like she can’t help it while breathing suddenly. You’re not sure how much longer of this you can take, the ache spreading everywhere in your body and absolutely ruining you.
“Agatha,” you whine again, begging, starting to move despite her death-like grip on your waist.
She moves your hair to the side and nips at your neck. “Yes, babygirl?”
“Can you please–” you begin, frustration leaking into your voice, tears pricking in your eyes. “Can you please move? Please, I need it so bad. I’m trying so hard to focus, please, can you fuck me? Daddy–”
Turns out, all you needed to convince her was to call her that, because she finally breaks and starts thrusting her hips up and pounding her cock into you. Your hand flies over your mouth and you bite onto a finger to stop yourself from crying out and you wish you weren’t in a library right now, rather be in the comfort of Agatha’s bed or car or office or anywhere but here, so you could be as loud as you want.
“Let’s see if you’re still distracted after Daddy fucks all the thoughts out of your head,” she snaps and fuck, you’re already so close after cockwarming her for those few minutes. She reaches around you with a hand to circle your clit, which is already sensitive from your previous orgasm and a muffled sound escapes you. Agatha laughs breathlessly and you strain your ears to hear if anyone is coming near you – not that you could do anything about it now – but there’s nothing.
Thank god this is a relatively empty library, especially at this time of the day, and that the two of you are tucked away in the back where it’s hard to see normally.
Agatha’s thrusts are getting so powerful that you’re forced to put your hands out on the table for balance which means it gets a lot harder to control your noises. But your professor, ever the problem-solver, comes up with a solution.
She slides two fingers into your mouth so you can suck on them and so your moans are stifled. Agatha presses her fingers against your tongue, scrapes her nails against it, and draws them out before shoving them back in, effectively fucking both your mouth and your pussy.
“You feel so good, babygirl, so fucking tight,” she pants into your ear and you gag when she pushes her fingers down your throat.
It’s so much, so much stimulation from her cock and her fingers and the fact that you’re being fucked in a public library where anyone could see that your orgasm hits you out of nowhere and it’s explosive. You sink your teeth into her skin and she moans, almost being louder before she remembers to control herself.
You need a moment to collect yourself, but she doesn’t give it to you; instead, she shoves you off her lap and stands up right behind you without her cock ever leaving your body.
Agatha bends you over the table, hand pressing against your back, and you have just enough awareness to move your laptop out of the way before she sets a bruising pace. The table must be bolted down to the floor or something, because it thankfully doesn’t move.
Agatha grunts softly with each thrust and you can feel her twitching inside you even though it feels like every single one of your nerves is on fire.
“Daddy, I don’t know if I can again,” you quietly sob, the pleasure fraying your mind, the sensitivity of your clit making you gasp when she rubs it. You feel like you’re drifting away from your body, dizziness swarming your head. “Too much,” you babble.
But she doesn’t slow down. If anything, she picks up her speed and tears fall from your eyes. “You can, babygirl, I know you can. You can take it – fuck, you feel so good around me.”
Agatha losing her composure because of you, just knowing you have that kind of affect on someone usually so cold and unaffected, is starting to build your orgasm back up.
“Daddy,” you whine, trying to be as quiet as you can. Her rhythm is starting to falter, she’s throbbing and twitching and cursing, fingers scrambling for purchase on your hips, and you know she’s getting close.
“So perfect, babygirl,” she mutters and you know she’s refraining from being louder, too. “I’ve wanted you for so long, ever since the first day when you walked into my classroom wearing that short skirt.”
The confession makes you clench and a gasp escapes your lips. You’re climbing closer and closer to the edge and Agatha isn’t far behind.
“Knew I had to have you,” she keeps going and your body is practically vibrating.
She’s pounding into you so deep, filling you so good, her cock dragging against your walls in the best way. Her ragged words are getting to her, too; you can tell in the way her thrusts become shallower and shorter like she can’t do anything more.
You’d make a quip about her being distracted but you can’t form a sentence right now. Every thought in your head is gone.
“Daddy knows you come here,” she continues and your eyes roll back into your head. You don’t even think you can understand her. You’re close, so close. “Knew you hadn’t started on the project. Knew you’d be here – fuck, babygirl.” She breaks off with a sharp inhale as you squeeze around her at her words.
This whole thing was planned. She’s wanted you just as badly as you’ve wanted her. And now she’s fucking you against a table in a library because of it.
She reaches around and rubs your clit and that’s it.
You cum all over her cock, walls convulsing around her, and she quickly follows, pumping her cum into you. You feel her warmth spreading through you and it makes you gasp.
Thankfully she pulls out because you truly can’t take anymore and she slides your underwear back into place before her cum can drip down your legs. She turns you around after zipping her pants back up and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear.
“You okay?” She murmurs and you weakly nod. “Is that pretty head of yours clear now? Think you can focus?”
The question makes you laugh. There are no thoughts left in your head whatsoever. “You do know that I’m only going to be thinking about this in your classes right? You just made the problem ten times worse.”
Agatha smirks and taps under your chin. “Tell you what, pet. For each day early you turn this project in, that’s one more reward you’ll get.”
And even though you’re completely worn out, your clit pulses at the thought of more.
“Think you’ll be able to focus now?” Agatha asks sweetly. You nod eagerly, your brain suddenly able to piece together how you’re going to structure your paragraphs, and she chuckles. “It’s all about finding the right motivation. I look forward to seeing your final project.” She winks, packs up her stuff, and then walks away.
You sit down in the chair, making a mental note to clean that and the table before you leave, and open your laptop back up.
Cracking your knuckles, you get to work, suddenly able to focus so much better now.
#agatha harkness x fem!reader#agatha harkness x reader#agatha x reader#agatha x you#agatha harkness x you#agatha harkness smut#agatha smut#agatha all along
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Yield and Obey (NSFW)
Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Reader
Summary: You decide to act out by not listening to Agatha in front of the coven and when you don't take the opportunity to correct yourself, she has to punish you
- OR -
You get spanked for your brattiness and then fucked (and bred) into submission
Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, Top Agatha, bratty reader, Dom/Sub dynamics, spanking, breeding, magic g!p, degradation, tiniest amount of praise, possessive Agatha, she kind of just uses reader for her own pleasure at the end
Words: 3.2k
A/N: I've realised that I mostly imagine Agatha being taller than reader (even though Kathryn is only 5'5) like I refuse to believe that THE Agatha Harkness isn't tall👀👀
AO3 | Masterlist
The room buzzes with the quiet hum of activity, the coven murmuring over spell books, tendrils of magic curling in the air. It’s a chaotic yet strangely comforting scene—home to the powerful and the power-hungry alike. You lean against the edge of a wooden table near the fireplace, where Jen meticulously stirs a glowing potion. Alice sits cross-legged nearby, her hands weaving through glittering threads of enchantment. Even Rio has made an appearance, lounging in a corner and casting sharp, knowing glances at anyone who dares disrupt the tenuous harmony.
But despite the coven’s dynamic energy, your attention is fixated entirely elsewhere. Specifically, on her.
Agatha Harkness perches in her usual chair, an aura of authority emanating effortlessly from her every gesture. The flickering firelight catches her dark, slightly dishevelled waves, which frame sharp cheekbones and an unsettlingly beautiful smirk that always promises trouble. The soft linen of her blouse clings to her frame, tucked neatly into purple high-waisted slacks that somehow make her appear even taller. She’s a woman you can never quite look away from, her presence magnetic, her power intoxicating.
She’s toying with a strand of her hair now, feigning disinterest in the goings-on around her. But you know her too well to fall for that act. She doesn’t miss a thing. Least of all the way you’re staring.
“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” she says at last, her gaze cutting to yours like a knife.
Your cheeks burn as the rest of the coven barely spares the two of you a glance. These moments between you and Agatha are commonplace by now, a sort of game only the two of you understand. But even in the relative privacy of the bustling room, her voice carries an edge of authority that twists your stomach into delicious knots.
“Just watching,” you reply, a little too innocently.
Agatha arches a brow, her smirk deepening. “Is that so?”
Her tone sends a shiver down your spine. She knows exactly what you want, and she’s going to make you work for it.
Jen glances up from her potion and mutters something about the moon phases aligning for a powerful incantation. Rio snickers, clearly amused by the tension thickening between you and Agatha. But neither of you pays them any mind.
“Why don’t you help Lilia with the herbs?” Agatha suggests, her tone deceptively sweet.
It’s a command, not a question. Your defiance flares up instantly—your bratty streak refusing to let her have the upper hand so easily.
“Why don’t you do it yourself?” You quip back, folding your arms.
The silence that follows is deafening. Even Rio stops smirking, her sharp eyes darting between you and Agatha. The rest of the coven seems to hold its collective breath, tension hanging in the air like an impending storm.
Agatha rises slowly from her chair, the firelight painting her every movement in shades of gold and shadow. She doesn’t have to say a word—her mere presence is enough to make your pulse quicken.
“Out,” she says, her voice calm but laced with steel.
The coven members exchange looks before scattering like leaves in the wind, muttering excuses as they file out of the room. Rio lingers for a moment longer, her grin returning as she mouths, Good luck, before slipping out the door.
Now it’s just the two of you, the flickering fire casting dancing shadows across the walls. Agatha closes the distance between you with measured steps, her heels clicking softly against the stone floor.
“Do you want to try that again?” She asks, tilting her head as she looms over you.
Your heart pounds as you bite your lip, refusing to back down even as your body betrays you with a telltale shiver of anticipation. “Nah, I’m okay, thank you.”
Her smirk returns, sharper this time. “Oh, darling. You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”
Before you can respond, she grabs your wrist and pulls you toward her chair. The force of her magic ripples through the room, locking the door with a resounding click. You barely have time to process what’s happening before you find yourself draped over her lap with your bare ass exposed, your breath hitching as her hand settles firmly on your lower back.
“Since you’re so eager to challenge me, I think you deserve a proper lesson,” she purrs, her voice low and dangerous.
Your skin flushes with heat as you wriggle slightly, testing the strength of her grip. Agatha chuckles darkly, her nails grazing the curve of your hip in warning.
“Stay still,” she orders.
You bite back a grin, knowing exactly how much it’ll annoy her if you don’t. “Make me.”
It’s childish and probably the most cliche bratty thing you could say, but that’s exactly why you said it: you know it’ll just frustrate Agatha even more.
The first sharp slap lands before you can brace yourself, the sting radiating through your body and drawing a gasp from your lips. She doesn’t hold back (she never does) and that’s precisely why you crave this.
“Oh, you’re going to regret that attitude,” she murmurs, her tone dripping with amusement.
But you don’t regret it, not one bit. You squirm under her hand, revelling in the sensation, a delicious mix of pain and pleasure that only she can deliver. Each strike sends a jolt of electricity through you, your defiance slowly melting into submission as she works her magic—both literally and figuratively.
“You enjoy this far too much,” she says, her voice softening as she leans down to whisper in your ear.
“Maybe,” you admit breathlessly, your cheek pressed against the fabric of the armchair.
Her hand pauses, resting on the now-sensitive skin of your thigh. She runs her fingers over the faint marks she’s left, her touch surprisingly gentle.
“Good,” she says simply. “Because we’re just getting started.”
The next strike comes harder than the last, making you cry out and instinctively grab at the edge of the chair. Your fingers curl against the fabric as your breathing grows heavier, a soft whimper escaping your lips. Agatha’s hand stays firmly on your back, keeping you pinned in place.
“You’ve got such a smart mouth, don’t you?” She muses. “Let’s see how clever you are now. Count for me.”
Your head swims, the heat from her palm still lingering on your skin. “W-What?”
“Count,” she repeats, her hand hovering over you. “Or we’ll start all over again.”
Her words make your stomach twist with a heady mix of anticipation and dread. You nod quickly, your voice trembling. “O-One.”
The next slap lands sharply, making your body jolt. “Two,” you gasp, your voice hitching with the sting.
Agatha’s smirk widens as she settles into a steady rhythm, each strike drawing a breathy moan or soft cry from your lips. You can feel her leaning in closer, her breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.
“Poor thing,” she coos mockingly. “You’re enjoying this far too much. Listen to yourself, whimpering like a needy little thing.”
“F-Four,” you stammer, unable to suppress the moan that follows.
She chuckles, her hand caressing the tender skin of your thighs before delivering another strike.
“Five.”
By the time you reach ten, your mind is spinning and your body burns with arousal. The friction against her slacks hasn’t gone unnoticed either—not by her, at least. Agatha pauses, her hand sliding down to rest on your thigh, her fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles that make your breath catch.
“Well, well,” she drawls, her voice dripping with condescension. “Look at the mess you’ve made.”
You freeze, your face heating as you realise what she means. The smooth fabric of her slacks now bears a darker patch, evidence of just how worked up you are. Agatha tilts her head, feigning pity, though the smirk playing on her lips betrays her true feelings.
“Absolutely shameless,” she remarks, her tone a mixture of amusement and disdain. “And here I thought you had some self-control.”
You squirm under her hand, your embarrassment only heightening your arousal. “I—”
“Quiet,” she interrupts, sitting back with a snap of her fingers. “On your feet. Now.”
Her magic compels you to obey, even as your legs tremble slightly. You stand before her, your head lowered as her sharp gaze roams over you. Then, with another snap of her fingers, the world seems to shift.
The cool air against your skin tells you that you’re now completely bare, and your eyes widen as you realise Agatha has shed her own clothing with the same effortless command. She leans back in the chair, her powerful presence now magnified by her lack of restraint.
What catches your attention most, however, is the unmistakable addition of something new. A large, thick length juts proudly from her body, clearly the result of some well-placed magic. Your breath hitches as you stare, your heart pounding in anticipation.
“Oh, don’t act so surprised,” she teases, standing gracefully and closing the small distance between you. “You didn’t think I’d let you off that easily, did you?”
Her hand cups your chin, tilting your face up so you meet her piercing gaze. “You wanted to play brat,” she murmurs, her thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “So now you’ll take exactly what I give you.”
You can only nod, your body thrumming with desire. Agatha smirks, her other hand sliding down to grip your waist as she guides you back toward the chair.
“Good girl,” she purrs. “Now let’s see if you can be a little more obedient this time.”
Her lips crash against yours, stealing what little composure you have left. The weight of her body against yours, the heat of her skin, the sheer dominance she exudes—it’s all too much, and yet not nearly enough.
Agatha’s lips leave yours as she pushes you backward, guiding you with an unrelenting grip on your hips until your thighs meet the edge of the chair. Her sharp eyes gleam with amusement, a smirk tugging at her lips as she spins you around effortlessly.
“Bend over,” she orders, her voice low and commanding.
You obey, pressing your chest against the cool wool of the chair’s backrest. The angle leaves you entirely exposed to her; your legs spread just enough to keep you steady. The vulnerability of the position only heightens the intensity of your desire, a soft whimper escaping as you feel her hand glide over the curve of your backside.
Her fingers trail down, teasingly slow, until they slip between your legs. You gasp, your body jolting as her fingers brush against your dripping heat. Agatha chuckles darkly, her fingers exploring lazily, spreading your arousal as if testing just how far gone you already are.
“My, my,” she hums, her tone dripping with mockery. “You’re soaked. No wonder you were squirming all over my lap.”
Her fingers begin to move more deliberately, sliding between your folds, the pads pressing against you just enough to make you ache for more. Each movement sends shivers down your spine, but it isn’t enough to satisfy the throbbing need that’s building within you.
“Such a desperate little thing,” she coos, her other hand gripping your hip to keep you from bucking against her touch. “But look at this.”
She withdraws her hand, and you whimper in protest. Glancing over your shoulder, you see her raise her fingers, glistening with your arousal. “I can’t even get any friction,” she taunts. “You’re so wet, my fingers just slide right off.”
“Please,” you whimper, your voice trembling with need.
“Please?” She repeats mockingly, her smirk widening. “You’re lucky I’m feeling generous tonight.”
You feel her shift behind you, her body pressing closer as her hands grip your hips firmly. The head of her magically conjured length nudges against your entrance, and your breath hitches.
Agatha leans down, her lips brushing against your ear as she speaks. “Brace yourself, darling. This won’t be gentle.”
Before you can respond, she pushes forward in one fluid motion, filling you completely. The sudden stretch makes you cry out, your fingers gripping the chair’s backrest as she gives you no time to adjust. Agatha pulls back only to thrust forward again, harder this time, the force of it making the chair creak beneath you.
She sets a brutal pace, her hips snapping against yours with a ferocity that leaves you breathless. Each thrust sends shockwaves through your body, the wet slapping of skin against skin filling the room alongside your moans and gasps.
“Listen to you,” Agatha pants, her voice thick with satisfaction. “Making such filthy sounds. You’d think this was the only thing you’re good for.”
Her grip on your hips tightens, her nails digging into your skin as she loses herself in the rhythm. Every movement is precise and calculated, yet utterly unrestrained in its intensity. Her breathing grows heavier, her usually composed demeanour beginning to crack under the weight of her own pleasure.
The wet, obscene sounds of her thrusts only spur her on, her pace quickening as she drives into you with relentless force. “Such a perfect little plaything,” she growls, her voice low and breathless. “Taking everything I give you so beautifully.”
Your legs tremble beneath you, your body barely able to keep up with her unyielding pace. The pressure building inside you is overwhelming, your moans turning into incoherent cries as you teeter on the edge of release.
The coil in your stomach tightens to an unbearable degree as Agatha’s relentless pace drives you closer and closer to the edge. Each wet, resounding slap of her hips against you fills the room, mixing with the ragged cries spilling from your lips. Her hand comes down on your ass once more—harder this time—and the sharp sting sends you spiralling.
Your body tenses as the pressure inside you snaps, pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. A strangled scream tears from your throat, your voice echoing through the room as the force of your orgasm wracks your body. Stars dance in your vision as you convulse beneath her, your walls clenching down on her so tightly that she lets out a guttural groan of her own.
“Oh, that’s it,” Agatha hisses, her voice trembling with pleasure and control. “Such a good little thing, screaming for me like that.”
Your body sags against the chair, your limbs trembling as aftershocks ripple through you. But Agatha isn’t finished. Not by a long shot.
Her hands tighten on your hips, her nails digging into your sensitive skin as she picks up her pace once more. Each thrust is brutal, her hips slamming into yours with a force that sends shockwaves through your overstimulated body.
“You’re not done yet,” she growls, her voice low and breathless. “I’m not done.”
Her movements grow desperate, the sound of her cock driving into your slick heat punctuated by wet, obscene slaps. You whimper beneath her, your body shaking as she uses you with abandon, chasing her own release.
“You’d take anything I gave you, wouldn’t you? You’d let me fill you up—over and over again—until my cum drips out of you,” she sneers, her voice tinged with dark amusement.
Her words send another jolt of heat through you, your body responding despite the overwhelming sensations. Agatha notices, of course, her sharp laugh ringing out as she drives herself even deeper.
“You like the idea, don’t you?” She taunts, her breath hot against your ear as she leans over you. “Being bred by me. Being so full that you can’t think of anything else.”
“Yes,” you whimper, your voice breaking as you push back against her, desperate to give her whatever she wants. “Please, Agatha—please!”
Her growl is low and feral, her control slipping as her thrusts grow erratic. She is lost in the overwhelming heat of you, her movements fuelled by pure instinct and desire.
“I’ll fill you up,” she promises, her voice rough with lust. “I’ll fill you so full, you’ll feel me for days. You’ll look at yourself and know who you belong to.”
Her hips slam into you, her pace brutal and unforgiving as she chases her release. The wet, obscene slapping of skin against skin fills the room, the sound mixing with her ragged breaths and low, desperate groans.
“You’re mine,” she growls, her voice trembling as she grips your hips tighter. “Mine to use. Mine to breed. Mine.”
Her words send a shiver down your spine, the weight of her possessiveness igniting something deep within you. You cry out, your body trembling as her thrusts grow even harder, each one driving her deeper inside you.
With one final, brutal thrust, Agatha stills, her body shuddering as she finds her release. Her low, guttural moan fills the room as she spills herself inside you, the heat of her release flooding your core.
For a moment, the room is silent, save for the sound of your ragged breaths. Agatha stays pressed against you, her hands trailing over your sweat-slicked skin as she catches her breath. Then, slowly, she leans down, her lips brushing against your ear.
“Perfect,” she whispers, her voice soft but full of dark satisfaction. “Absolutely perfect.”
She lingers a moment longer, her hands gripping your hips tightly as if anchoring herself to reality. Slowly, with deliberate care, she begins to pull out. A shudder courses through your body as she withdraws, the lack of her cock leaving you feeling achingly empty. She stands upright, holding you firmly in place as she gazes down at the mess she’s made.
“Look at that,” she purrs, her voice full of dark satisfaction as she watches her cum drip out of you, trailing down your thighs in thick, sticky streams. “What a sight. You really are a perfect little toy, aren’t you?”
Her fingers trail along the curve of your back before she raises her hand one last time. The sharp crack of her palm against your sore, sensitive flesh makes you yelp, though the sound quickly dissolves into a whimper of pleasure.
Agatha chuckles darkly, her palm soothing over the reddened skin for a moment before she steps back. With a snap of her fingers, your clothes are back on, though the sensation of her still lingers—thick and undeniable. Your thighs clench involuntarily, the sticky mess now trapped inside your underwear, a constant reminder of what has just transpired.
Agatha, now back in her usual poised form, adjusts her blouse with a casual flick of her hand. “You really should listen to instructions the first time, darling,” she says with a sly smirk, her voice laced with teasing admonishment. She leans in close, her breath warm against your cheek. “Now, keep it all inside. If you manage that, maybe you’ll get rewarded later.”
She knows it’s an impossible ask, and your cheeks burn as her words sink in, your body still trembling from the lingering aftermath of her touch. Agatha straightens, her sharp gaze flicking over you one last time before she turns toward the door.
“Come along, pet,” she commands, her tone firm as she casts a glance over her shoulder. “The others are waiting. We wouldn’t want to keep them, now would we?”
You swallow hard, your legs shaky as you push yourself upright, the heat between your thighs a constant, maddening reminder of her dominance.
As you follow Agatha out of the room, the teasing sway of her hips draws your eyes, and you know you’re in for a long evening.
-----
Her shirt and purple pants combo is so fucking good, especially when her hair is down. The scene where she's sat round camp and starts rolling up her sleeve is probably one of my favourite scenes like ughhhhhhhh so hot.
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Taglist: @aceday @danveration @alwaysharmony @idkwhatever580 @lostbutlovely33
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#agatha all along#agatha harkness#agatha harkness x reader#agatha x reader#agatha harkness x you#agatha x you#agatha all along fanfic#marvel#mcu#agatha harkness smut#wlw smut#kathryn hahn#x reader#agatha x reader smut#x reader smut#x you smut#x you#x female reader#smut#agatha harkness x fem!reader#agatha smut#kathryn hahn character#alternate universe#agatha harkness fic#agatha x you smut#requested fic#agatha all along fanfiction#top Agatha harkness#fem reader#fem!reader
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Please Please Please | Luke Hughes
summary: navigating a secret relationship with your brothers teammate is turning out to be a little harder than you expected. the 3 times you and luke were almost caught + the 1 time you are caught.
4.3k
warnings: NSFW! pre-established relationship | brothers teammate trope | lazar! reader | sneaking around | kissing | suggestive dialogue and scenes | the tiniest sprinkle of smut but no actual sex | read at your own discretion
a/n: formed based on this request! i’m working on a good chunk of fics and similar stuff so keep your eyes open 💕 for now…enjoy! it’s been so long since i’ve written for luke..I missed him.
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one
"we really shouldn't be doing this..." luke's hushed words trail off, whispered against your slick lips as you two move through the room, stumbling over loose shoes and discarded clothes. his hands run up your torso hurriedly—yet smoothly—squeezing your skin in his palms like he can't get enough of you, despite his words. it's a sweet gesture, one that only turns you on further.
you shush him gently, dismissing his hesitance. you pull away from him slightly, but still close enough that you could lean back in at any moment and continue your hurried kiss. "please." you pout slightly, looking up through your lashes. you're so wound up from just kissing luke, you're not sure if you'll be able to stop now—despite the circumstances.
so regardless of your own selflessness—you can understand luke's apprehension. after all, if you were in his shoes you'd probably be shitting bricks right about now. your hands fall away from luke's broad shoulders, letting them trail down his chest until you reach his hips. slowly, you slip your fingers into the waistband of luke's sweats, and begin pulling him forward. "we just have to be really quiet."
luke stumbles slightly, caught off guard by your sudden movements. regardless, he follows easily, allowing you to bring him towards the edge of the bed. in that moment you're thankful the upstairs bedroom floors are carpeted, and the wobbly footsteps are muffled by the rug under your and luke’s socked feet.
the back of your knees meet the edge of the bed, and that has you falling back into the mass of blankets, releasing your hold on the elastic waistband around luke's ridiculously attractive hips—which, before you even met luke, you didn't even think hips could be so hot, but you'd been very quickly proven wrong.
you blink up at luke lazily, making your gaze come across as sensual as possible. you bring your knees up, and slowly your legs part, revealing the thin material off your blueberry printed panties—just visible under your shifted pyjama shorts.
but luke doesn't bite. he stays stagnant at the end of the bed, shirtless and visibly turned on—the straining situation under the soft material of his sweatpants giving him away.
his brows furrow. "what if curtis comes up here." luke questions, the worry evident in his expression. he gently rubs along his growing stubble, deep in thought as he continues to eye you. "what if we get caught?" luke's hesitant eyes flicker towards your closed bedroom door—well, your brother and his wife's guest bedroom door.
you were finishing up your final year of university in jersey, and instead of paying the ridiculous residence fees, curtis offered you the spare bedroom in his families home. and with that came a lot of social situations involving your brothers teammates. whether it was team dinners at different houses, or crowded bars after games, you were there—which is where you met luke.
luke seemed to always be around, and that combined with the constant banter he has with your brother, had you feeling enamoured with the youngest hughes brother very soon after curtis introduced you two. you found yourselves drawn to one another, and if one of you was near, the other wasn't far behind. you and luke quickly started dating—behind the back of your brother of course.
curtis has always been protective of you, especially when it comes to your relationships. it all comes from a good place, even if it made dating extremely difficult for you. curtis has always made sure to drill the negative stigma around young hockey players into your head—how he would never want you to date one...especially if said hockey player was one of his own teammates.
locker room talk was inevitable, and curtis didn't want to subject you to any of that ridiculous stuff or make you uncomfortable. and you didn't mind that protective rule of curtis' because you've never had an attraction to any of his teammates—until luke.
with that in mind, you and luke found yourself involved in a secret relationship. there's many measures you'd both take to ensure your romance stayed under wraps—you'd plan your calls around schedules, allowing yourselves to talk freely without your brother listening in. as well, you and luke would always plan secret dates, giving excuses of seeing friends in the city while you're actually tangled in whoever's bed is free. during gatherings, you'd be sneaking off into dark rooms, kissing like horny teenagers—it was all a thrill, one that you and luke found yourselves growing accustomed to, and honestly preferred.
you and luke were always careful—especially if curtis was around. if your brother was near, you and luke simply wouldn't sneak away, both too worried about getting caught and loosing the excitement and intimacy of your secret life.
but tonight was different.
the devils had been away on a week long road trip, expanding along the west coast and visiting teams like the sharks and kings. with the change in time zones, sneaking calls and facetimes with your boyfriend was practically impossible, and you and luke had only texted every few days to check in.
the interfering schedules and lack of communication left you and luke missing each other more than usual, and as soon as the devils plan landed back on jersey soil, you were practically vibrating with need.
when you proposed the idea of sneaking luke into the house once everyone had gone to bed, you didn't think he'd agree, but surprisingly enough he did. luke was apprehensive at first—which is understandable— because seeing one another while you're brother was home was always a big no-no. but the combination of the time missed between you and your pouty voice, luke had no choice but to agree.
slowly you unfold your leg, lifting your foot until you meet luke's shoulder. you nudge the buff surface with your sock covered toes, pulling luke's attention away from the bedroom door and back to you.
luke's gaze moves over you, shifting from your plump, spit slicked lips, down to your barley covered core and thin tank top that gives him the perfect outline of your pebbled nipples. he swallows roughly, a blush covering his high cheek bones.
"we won't get caught." you whisper seductively, your foot slowly trailing down his arm.
suddenly luke grabs onto your ankle, bringing your foot closer to his face. "you're such a bad influence." luke presses a soft kiss on your exposed ankle, right over the beaded anklet decorating you. his eyes don't leave your face, and as he slowly pulls away, a smirk begins to pull at his lips—tempting you.
you take your lip between your teeth. "you gunna punish me?"
he breathes a laugh, and manoeuvres your leg back into his spread, bent position. "you want me to punish you?"
you watch through hooded eyes as luke crawls onto the bed, moving until he's hovering over your flushed body. instantly your hands are in hair, running through his light curls, feeling the defined pattern between your fingers. "maybe I do."
his eyes flutter closed at the feeling, a small whimper passing through his parted lips. luke's large palm runs up your side, scooping under your tank until he's feeling your bare skin—running his thumb over your nipple.
you arch into him, a breathy moan leaving your lips, goosebumps covering your skin in the wake of luke's gentle touches.
luke kisses you slowly, a deep and bruising pressure that has you tingling all the way down to your toes. your lips part instinctively, moaning into luke's mouth as his continues to kiss yours, lips passing over yours in a gentle, slick embrace.
you're so easily distracted by luke's presence and touch, and you find yourself falling into a trance like state—loosing yourself in him. you find yourself here anytime you're with luke, always so easily falling into this intimate pattern. so it comes as suprise when your ears pick up on a dull thump in the distance, almost echoing through the quiet home.
"did you hear that?" you pull away from luke hurriedly, brows furrowed as you try and concentrate and listen further—straining your ears in attempt to catch any more sounds from beyond your bedroom.
luke whimpers at the loss of contact, eyes fluttering open to reveal his glossy, lustful eyes. "hear what?"
the dull thudding noise continues, increasing as if it was coming closer— sounding like somebody is walking, moving up the stairs towards your room. you gasp lightly, and with all the strength you can find, you push luke off the bed.
your sudden actions catch him off guard, and he goes easily, tumbling onto the rug with a loud thud. he groans out, and watches as you peek over the edge of the bed—your eyes blown wide with worry.
just before he can question your behaviour, you interrupt him, your tone hushed and full of fear. "it's curtis."
luke's face falls. "it's curtis?"
you nod quickly, looking in the direction of the door anxiously, listening as your brothers steps grow closer. you look back down at luke, "you gotta get under the bed."
"i'm not going to fit under the bed." luke whispers roughly, his own gaze darting between your nervous eyes and the bedroom door.
"well you gotta make it work, luke." you whisper wildly, shooing him. "scoot under—now."
the urgency in your voice has luke springing into action. he grabs onto the wooden frame of the bed, pulling himself under your bed. the rug rubs his bare back uncomfortably and the dust under the mattress is tickling his noise dangerously. the space is limited, and dirty, but you're not even thinking about that right now.
all you can focus on is the sound of curtis footsteps right outside the door, and just as the golden handle begins turning, luke finally gets situated under your bed, hiding from not only your sight, but hopefully your brothers.
you whip around just as the hinges squeak open, curtis appearing from behind the oak door. "hey." he greets you gently, still rubbing the sleep out of his eye with the palm of his hand. "are you talking to someone?"
you can feel the colour drain from your face, swallowing roughly as you keep your gaze ahead. "no?" your voice is definitely too high—too suspicious—answering quickly.
curtis's gaze narrows. "really? I thought I heard something." you watch in horror as your brother begins to look around the room, his movements suspiciously nonchalant as he scans the area—you can only pray that luke's feet aren't sticking out from underneath the mattress
you desperately need to get your brothers attention again and stop him from snooping around your space—you're pretty sure luke's phone is on the dresser. quickly, you spin your body to fully face curtis, clearing your throat. "well, I was watching a movie."
curtis' eyes flicker back to yours and away from your desk, his brows raised questionably. then, slowly, his gaze moves towards the tv on the wall. "the tv is broken."
you curse inwardly, swallowing thick salvia. "on my phone."
"okay..."he trails off. "just coming to check on you, making sure you were alright—couldve swore I heard something." your brother doesn't look all too convinced with what you're saying, and his pointed gaze has yet to waver.
you plaster on a smile. "oh i'm just peachy, curtis. thanks."
"you're acting weird."
"am I?" you question highly, crossing your arms.
he hums in answer, eyeing you suspiciously. "must just be tired. right?"
"right." you exhale shakily, and at this point you can only pray for this conversation to come to a close. subconsciously your eyes trail towards the bed, checking to make sure luke was still hidden.
curtis hums again, pulling your attention back to him. "better get to sleep then. goodnight."
you breathe, smiling again. "night."
he sends you one more curious look over his shoulder before he finally leaves, shutting the door with a gentle thud. the entire time you feel like you're going to die.
as soon as his feet sound descending back down the stairs, you're moving, practically skipping towards the bed.
your drop down on your stomach, looking under the gap between the floor and the mattress. "luke? are you breathing?"
he exhales loudly. "barley."
you send him a guilty smile. "guess we won't try this again, huh?"
two
luke pulls his hoodie over his torso, stretching his tired muscles as he adjust the material over his body.
the practice that finished only half hour ago was a taxing one. after a rough loss the previous night—one that he'd been cross checked in the ribs three separate times without a call—coach had been extra hard on the group today, which left luke even more sore and exhausted.
he shakes out his freshly washed hair, ruffling the curls between his fingers after they'd been flatted by his devils branded hood. the fuzzy material sticks to his damp chest, as luke was too tired to properly dry his skin—he just wanted to get home and call you, letting you coo at him and call him pretty (he loves it more than he’d ever admit).
"hey rusty." curtis distinctive teasing voice sounds behind luke, and he feels the center man’s hand on his shoulder, a rough squeeze in greeting. "you heading home now?"
curtis drops down to his reprieve stall—the one beside luke's—towel still around his waist as he pulls on his t-shirt, looking at the defence man expectantly.
luke swallows gently, giving curtis a quick nod. "yeah," he grabs his duffle bag, one full of extra hockey gear he always brings back and forth to the rink. "jacks already outside, said he wanted to shower when he got home."
"right on." curtis hums, pulling on his socks.
the sporadic buzzing noise of an incoming call draws the attention of both athletes, and their eyes are pulled to luke's beaten up phone, sitting screen up on the stall seat.
it's you. you're calling him.
curtis's brows raise, and he makes a teasing noise. "russssttttyyyy, who the hell is lovey?" before luke can even react, curtis picks up the phone, inspecting the profile picture set for your contact that’s flashing on the screen. thank god it’s an inconspicuous mirror pic, one lacking your face—luke can only pray curtis doesn’t inspect that picture too hard. "I didn't know you had a girlfriend."
luke swallows, eyes darting between the centerman and the phone clutched in his calloused hands. "I don't."
"there's a heart beside the name." he deadpans. "should I answer it and ask her about it instead?"
"no!" luke lunges towards his phone, but curtis is quicker, standing from is stall and side stepping the youngest hughes.
"easy dude. what's the big deal." with a breathy laugh, curtis slides his thumb across the answer button, picking up your incoming call.
"dude." luke grabs the phone from his hands just before curtis can place it to his ear. "a little privacy." the awkward chuckle that leaves him is almost embarrassing, and the way his hands have started shaking and the blush covering luke from head to toe is also humiliating.
curtis laughs, clearly finding amusement in luke's clear embarrassment. "i'm literally standing in front of you with my dick out, but sure rusty, i'll leave your secret girlfriend alone."
luke can just hear your muffled voice through the phone, muttering his name questionably—no doubt wondering what the fuck is going on. "sorry she's just...shy. you'll meet her one day."
curtis snickers, finally pulling on his sweats. "i'm sure I will."
luke nods—unsure what to say.
"better get going, rusty. think somebody is probably waiting to hear your voice." the center man's eyes dart between him and the phone in his hands, brows raised knowingly.
"right." he swallows, "see you later." luke practically runs out of the locker room, and as soon as he makes it down the hall, he raises the phone to his ear, hurriedly explaining to you the close call he'd just encountered with curtis.
three
you didn’t mean to have that many drinks—really, you didn't. but a couple of your friends from class invited you out to celebrate the ending semester, and because you all passed, they said drinks were in order and you had to join.
a few hours and many drinks in, you were practically falling over. you had stayed out later than you originally planned on, and curtis would be long asleep by now—leaving you with limited options for getting home.
drink you—ever to clingy girlfriend—called luke almost instantly.and obviously luke picked up on the first ring, despite the early morning time, and of course he came to the bar as soon as you asked.
which brings you to right now, knees weak as you sway on the your homes front porch, pouting at your boyfriend in the cold winter night.
luke looks down at you gently, his eyes full of exhaustion. but yet, there’s a hint of amusement in them, and the edge of his mouth is turned up in a lazy smirk.
"kiss me goodnight." you drunkenly slur for the 10th time since luke guided you out of the car. you are looking at your boyfriend expectantly, an impatient whine leaving your lips. "please baby."
it's so dark outside he can barley make out your features, but he can see the way your hazy eyes twinkle at him—silently begging. luke's gaze flickers towards the ring camera quickly, praying that it's one that isn't an audio recorder, and if it does pick up sound, luke hopes you're too quiet to catch.
you’ve both always been careful with the camera before this, and if the lazar house was the only option for your…escapades, you’d both avoid the camera expertly—sneaking through windows and back doors like misbehaved children.
but you’re too drunk to even think about that, and luke’s too tired to even attempt sneaking you through the back door.
your pout turns into a smile, and your arms snake up his body, wrapping around his neck and pulling yourself up to your toes. "please please please please."
he sighs gently, glancing at the camera again. in a moment of weakness, he decides it's probably to dark too make out any kind of facial features through the camera anyway, and if he doesn't kiss you now, the camera will be the least of his worries.
so luke wraps his arms around your waist tighter, keeping your sway steady. he leans down, pecking your lips so quickly that he hopes even if the camera can see him, the affection was so brief that in a blink you'd miss it. "okay now go inside."
your grin widens, and as you finally pull away from luke, you're overjoyed and satisfied.
when you wake the next morning, you feel yourself panic—flashes of the kiss on the porch and the ring camera running through your mind.
you wait anxiously for curtis to bring it up and call you out for kissing his teammate in front of the front door...but it never comes.
the ring camera hasn't worked for a week—and that has you breathing a sigh of relief when your sister-in-law mentions it the following evening.
+one
you can't even think logically as you rush through the crowded arena, weaving through bodies as you clutch the pass around your neck, anxiously fiddling with the lanyard.
the scene in your head is playing on repeat—watching luke get thrown to the ice during the messy scrum from only minutes ago, his head slamming against the ice as he hit the ground.
you'd shot up from your seat, worry sketched across your face as you watched luke laying limp on the ice as the trainer spoke into his ear—the fear all but consumed you. jack's girlfriend tried to console you—comfort you—but nothing was helping.
you gave it 5 minutes. 5 minutes after they helped luke off the ice and down to the assessment room, before you were out of your seat, mumbling some excuse to sammy as you left.
you make your way through the tunnels easily, very much used to the area and familiar with the space after many visits with curtis. you find the assessment room easily, the door left open the smallest crack so you're able to subtly peek in—so if someone else is in there with him, you won’t be caught.
but it's just luke, sitting slumped on a doctor like bed with his eyes closed—arms crossed over his chest guard, his jerseys discarded in a sweaty lump on the metal table beside him.
with the coast clear, you push open the door fully, letting it softly swing closed behind you. the sound has luke's eyes fluttering open, and he immediately finds your worried eyes blinking back at him.
you breathe a heavy exhale, a slight wobble in the sound that portrays the emotion crawling up your throat—desperate to be let out. all the fear and stress and worry you've been feeling for the past 6 minutes are coming to a hilt, and you rush towards your boyfriend with a pout pulling at your lips. "are you okay?"
"hey." he mumbles gently, brows pulled tightly as you appear his side. "what are you doing down here?"
you gently take ahold of his face, eyes frantically bouncing around as if you're trying to locate any injuries. "luke, holy shit. I was so scared." tears begin welling in your eyes, bottom lip trembling. “you weren’t moving.”
luke slowly swings his legs over the side of the medical bed, cooing gently. your hands fall from his face in favour of wiping your own, catching the trail of water as it cascades down your cheeks.
luke's hockey pant covered thighs part, creating enough space for you to stand between them. he wraps his arm around you waist, bringing you into his embrace. you go easily, tears continuing to cloud your vision as you fall into his sweaty chest. "i'm sorry I scared you." he mumbles into your hair, pressing a lingering kiss against your forehead.
you shake your head. "are you okay?" you ask again, pulling back just enough to look into his warm eyes. “what did they say?”
"i've got a concussion most likely, but i'll be fine." luke's words are reassuring, and so is the kiss he presses against your cheek. he's coherent, and he's moving—he's okay.
"is there anything you need from me?" you ask gently, pushing his wet curls off his forehead—something you’d always find yourself doing.
luke’s eyes flutter slightly at the comforting action. his soft grin turns boyish, and silently he purses his lips, asking for a kiss.
you roll your eyes gently, but oblige, leaning in and pressing your lips to his. luke sighs pleasantly, parting his lips as he begins to deepen the kiss, pulling your body in tighter.
you smile into it, which allows luke the access to slip his tongue past your bottom lip, and you let him. his hand travels down your back, slowly tickling the expanse of your skin until he's rounding over the curve of your ass, giving your cheek a firm squeeze.
"alright rusty if you're gunna kiss my sister here, the least you could do is not play grab ass while you do it." the sudden voice of curtis has you pulling away, and you turn towards the door in record speed.
you'd been too lost in the trance luke always put you in—to absorbed in his body and lips that you'd missed not only the end of period buzzer echoing throughout the arena, but the door opening behind you.
you're too scared too move—too scared to even blink. you look at curtis with wide eyes, your face void of colour, giving you a lifeless look. and luke's no better, with his mouth opening and closing like a fish and his hand still on your ass cheek—even after you turned around.
you push his hand away and swallow roughly. "curtis...I-we can explain."
your brother shrugs. "there's nothing to explain. I know."
your brows shoot up. "you know?"
curtis nods triumphantly, looking rather pleased with himself. this time it's luke who speaks, swallowing the little salvia lingering in his dry mouth. "what-I-how?" he stutters.
"that night awhile back, when I came to check on you, luke's sweater was on your chair." he looks at you playfully, "I saw the number and I knew."
now you're going red, felling a wave of guilt and embarrassment creep in on you. "i'm sorry."
"we're sorry." luke adds gently. "we shouldn't of kept it a secret."
"I'm not mad—just a little disappointed that I was left out of the loop." then, curtis expression changes, looking at you with a gentle smile. "out of all the guys on this team you couldn't picked...rusty's the best one."
you smile, glancing up at luke.
he meets your gaze, and he wraps his arm around your waist, bringing you back into his side.
"consider yourself in the loop." you chime through and exhale, looking back towards curtis.
"good." he nods, his usual teasing expression back on his face. curtis looks at luke, a brow raised. "so, were you under the bed or in the closet?"
you feel luke stiffen beside you, and you can't help but laugh.
#🤍⊹˚₊ cute and hughesy fic#luke hughes#luke hughes imagine#luke hughes x reader#luke hughes fic#luke hughes fluff#luke hughes blurb#luke hughes smut#luke hughes fanfic#nhl blurb#nhl smut#nhl fanfic#nhl x reader#nhl imagine#nhl fic#nhl fanfiction#hockey x reader#hockey imagine#hockey blurb#hockey smut#new jersey devils imagine
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My Sweetheart, Your Nightmare.
Pairing: Azriel X Reader
Summary: Having noticed that Elain clings to Azriel, Feyre mentions she thinks Azriel and Elain would be good together. Questions why the mother didn’t make them mates. Rhysand quickly lets her in on an important piece of information.
“‘Why not make them mates?” Feyre states as she witnesses her sister and Azriel down in the garden.
Rhysands eyes widen at his mates brazen comment and goes to interject but before he can she continues on.
“They look perfectly matched do they not? Two beautiful and caring people. Three sisters for three brothers just make sense?” Feyre says sounding upset.
“Feyre darling. It appears I’ve left out some pretty important information about this family. It’s my fault really, she’s been out doing my messy work for the night court this whole time. Keeping all the other threats at bay and …immobilizing them so Azriel has less work on his plate.” Rhysand rambles.
“What? I’m not following Rhys?” Feyre questions.
Rhysand sighs but goes to explain further.
“Azriel is only doing as I have asked in looking after Elain. He already has a mate Feyre. One he is very committed to. A female that you most certainly never want to hear the words you just spoke about your sister and him. She- “ a throat clears from behind them.
“SHE, is right here Rhysand.” A sultry voice states.
Rhysands eyes widen in what Feyre can only see as fear.
“Y/N! You are home! Oh Azriel is going to be thrilled, let me just go get him for you.” Rhysand quickly goes to grab Feyre and tries to leave but y/n has other plans.
Magic surges across the room and Feyres feet feel stuck to the floor. She turns her head to look at Rhysand and notices he is in the same predicament.
“Dammit” Rhysand whispers more to himself.
“Ah ah ah, Rhysie. That’s no way to greet your favorite sister in law. You haven’t even introduced me to your mate yet.”
Feyre turns to actually get a good look at the female that has somehow over powered the High Lord and Lady of the Night Court.
Ashen white hair, icy eyes, taller than most fae females, and she has a beautiful silhouette that filled out a pair of black leathers quite nicely, Feyre thought. Cauldron boil her, this female was gorgeous.
Before Feyre could find anymore of your perfections Rhysand interrupted her train of thoughts.
“Think less loudly Feyre Darling, I’m starting to become jealous.” Rhysand deadpans.
Feyre blushes and immediately looks down to her feet.
“You know I have that affect on most fae Rhysie. Don’t be a sour puss.” Y/n smugly states.
Y/n descends upon them and actually goes to bow before Feyre.
“It is an honor to officially meet you my High Lady. My name is y/n, assassin of the Night Court. Mate and wife of Azriel.” Y/N proudly states.
“I-it’s lovely to finally meet you y/n.” Feyre stutters out.
This female infront of Feyre is terrifying and ethereal. Feyre already knows she is lethal and all thoughts she had prior of how Elain and Azriel were perfectly matched go straight out the window. She can see it now…why the cauldron makes the pairings it does.
Y/N stands to her full height but all playfulness she exuded before is gone.
“I know you did not know of my existence until just now…so for that reason alone I’ll let your comments slide. But Azriel is MY mate and the saying ‘if I can’t have them, then no one can’ is very much the saying I live by when it comes to him.”
Feyre can only nod her head dumbfounded.
A second later shadows envelope the room. More lively than Feyre has ever seen them.
Azriel soon enters with a confused Elain in tow.
When Azriel lays his eyes on y/n, Feyre can quite literally see the tension leave his body.
“Sweetheart.” Azriel speaks so softly. He rushes to y/n and envelopes her in a hug that looks like it would hurt.
“Hi love.” Y/n whispers back just as soft and leans her forehead against his.
It’s an intimate moment that everyone else in the room feel like they are intruding on.
But one moment the feared shadowsinger and his mate were there…and the next gone.
Rhysand releases a breath that he had been holding.
“Well that was y/n. She’s half high fae and half witch. The people of Prythian call her Nightmare because fae parents tell their children if you don’t behave she’ll come in the night while you are sleeping and take you to her dungeon. Which isn’t totally untrue…it’s just criminals and murderers that she takes to her dungeon. You won’t see her or Azriel again until maybe two or three months from now .” Rhysand states.
“What? Where will they be?” Elain finally speaks.
After witnessing all she just had she can’t say she’s not a bit disappointed. It was obvious what you were to Azriel.
“Oh they are going to pick up their children from Azriels mom’s cottage and spend the rest of their time at their home.” Rhysand throws out casually.
“THEY HAVE CHILDREN? Rhysand what else have you conveniently left out?!” Feyre berates.
“….well I think that’s it honestly. OH they have a pet wolf who is very protective of the children. Also my niece and nephews, they enjoy tormenting people in different ways than their parents…mental manipulation. Just lock your mind up real tight around them. God I love them and proud they are all daemati like me but they once convinced me I had a thing for Beron for over a week until y/n realized what they were doing and made them release my mind.” Rhysand annoyedly admits.
Elain and Feyre can only stare at him in shock. He simply shrugs his shoulders like it was normal and walks off.
Elain breaks the silence and turns to Feyre. “I think y/n is going to end up being best friends with Nesta.” the two break out in giggles and they honestly can’t wait to see that unfold.
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ੈ✩‧₊˚we can’t be friends 🤍 xavier 星回 ੈ✩‧₊˚
RE-UPLOAD! The original post didn’t show up in the tags, sorry for the confusion :c
pairing ੈ✩: xavier x reader
summary ੈ✩: you and xavier had been best friends for years, nearly inseparable since the moment you met. But after one slightly drunken night, everything shifted: you became friends with benefits. You told yourself you could handle it, but as time went on, your heart began to ache. You had to end it, for your own sake. You were in love with him, but you couldn't shake the painful truth: you believed he’d never feel the same. Still, what if, all this time, while you were trying to push him away, he was quietly hoping to show you how perfect you two were together?
word count ੈ✩: 12k. omg. it’s LONG, long. grab some snacks and let me entertain you for a while!!
tropes ੈ✩: 18+, smut, best friends with benefits, miscommunication, unrequired love, not really tho, angst, angst with happy ending, plot with porn, love confessions, needy xavier, obsessed xavier, domestic xavier, i suck at giving tropes i swear i will get better someday, desperate xavier, everything is consensual, the consumption of alcohol mentioned, pet names, xavier was once in love with mc but the myths are not canon in this one!!
author’s note ੈ✩: GUYS this one’s IT. This idea was blooming slowly in my mind for quite some time. I really hope you’ll like it 🥹 also, please be gentle with me, i’m not a native speaker of english and I’m definitely not a writer. I like to think that everything i create is just fueled by my passionate delulu. please let me know if you liked it and if maybe you’d like to read part 2!! ♡ enjoy your reading!!
!!do NOT read if you’re not 18+!!
ੈ✩‧₊˚
It all started with the simplest of touches.
Your hands grazed, as if by accident. Then your eyes met. He grabbed you by your forearm, or maybe you grabbed him, everything was so blurry in your mind. A touch on a waist, a hand on a chest, and a sudden clash of your lips. You saw fireworks exploding in your mind, sending pleasant thrumming throughout your whole body.
Desperate touches. Rapid breaths. A whisper, maybe two. He said something. What did he say? The sound of your heart was the only thing you could hear.
Your dress came off. You felt lips. Lips marking every part of your body, leaving behind wet paths that made the exposed skin shiver due to the coolness of the air. He went down. Down. Down, and looked at you expectantly. Your head never nodded that quickly and it probably never will again. You saw stars. Millions and millions of them, shimmering under your closed eyelids. He grabbed your hand and put it into his hair. You caressed it gently, savoring the softness of it.
Then, you saw his eyes. Beautiful, deep blues that looked far too innocent for what he did and what he was about to do with you next. He kissed you again and again, and again, and he held you close throughout the whole night, making you shiver, moan, cry, beg — until you fell asleep from exhaustion right in the safety of his arms. He turned your world upside down.
And then came the next morning, when you began to question the entire ordeal. You panicked, thinking about your friendship that you valued the most and Xavier, whom you just couldn’t bear to lose. However, when you wanted to put it past you, to blame the alcohol consumed that night, act as if it was just a slip of your judgement, a mistake, a reaction caused by the need of intimacy after being single for a long time, he wasn’t having it. He said that he couldn’t forget about it, that it changed things, and you blurted out the first thing that came into your mind. You proposed the whole arrangement.
And that’s how, after several months, your relationship with Xavier stayed clear and technically uncomplicated. Friends with benefits. You thought that even if that night did change things, then in this way you could act as if it wasn’t a big deal to you. In this way, you wouldn’t have to lose him, wouldn’t make things awkward. You still acted normally in front of each other, you continued to spend time in almost the same way you were before that faithful night, but with one drastic change.
Almost every encounter since that night ended with you in his bed or the other way around. Hours and hours spend in each other’s embrace, touching and feeling too much, all at once.
And said feelings were what made you finally decide that you couldn’t do this anymore. You couldn’t continue sharing with him this intimacy, pretending that everything between you remained unchanged. You couldn’t do this anymore, knowing that it was all that you’ll ever get from him, despite being in love with him for so long.
You knew that he would never reciprocate your feelings. You knew that from the beginning, from the very first touch of your fingertips that night, but you foolishly thought that having him close for as long as he wanted you, would be enough for you. Even if he wanted you only for your body, because you were the easiest choice.
However, your heart was breaking every time you were reminded of one significant fact, a harsh reality that felt like a bucket of cold water in your face.
He will never love you. Because you were not her.
And you would never be.
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
You already had a strategy to end the arrangement. You wanted to take it slow, step by step, with just a bit of pain on your side. You knew it wasn't your best plan, but it was a plan nonetheless. You wanted to end the friends-with-benefits arrangement in a way that would make you both slowly, almost naturally, drift apart—so subtly that he wouldn't even notice the change. As for you, you were ready to bear the painful consequences of your actions, if it saved you from the excruciating pain of a broken heart later.
You started with avoiding his kisses.
And it turned out to be a tough job to do, because you didn’t realize before how much of a kisser Xavier became during your friends-with-benefits situation. It never really bothered you before, you always accepted every single kiss with content. However, during your last meeting, you were trying so hard to avoid his lips, and noticed that he made it into an almost impossible task.
When you went out one night, he wanted to kiss you three times during hot pot, even though you were sitting across from each other. You thought that the sitting situation was enough of an obstacle, but you quickly learned that he always somehow managed to find a chance to try to steal a kiss. That not only bewildered you, but also made you blush so hard that you had to blame the spicy food for it to not look suspicious. Yet, you managed to stay your ground and ignored his needy attempts at capturing your lips.
You also avoided his lips while you were later watching a movie in his apartment, by pretending that you didn’t see or feel his constant gaze on you. You thought that maybe if he saw that the movie engaged you so much, he would finally drop the attempts. Unfortunately, your plan failed the moment his patience thinned, when he started kissing your neck while cradling your body to his. He was grabbing at you almost desperately and you really couldn’t escape from every single kiss he was giving you, no matter how much you tried to. And you really tried to.
“Why—why are you turning your face away? A-Ah… Let me look at y-you—mmm.” He said between his moans, and he never once stopped thrusting inside you. It was the day when he took you on a sofa between his soft, plushy pillows with the movie still playing in the background. Your legs were laying on his shoulder, his both hands holding onto them tightly while his hips thrusted deep inside you, making you gasp in pleasure. When you didn’t respond and kept your head away, hoping that he would finally stop with his relentless kisses, his hand gently grabbed your face and turned it towards his so that your eyes met. He smiled softly, his cheeks pink and face damp. “Yes, there you are. You feel good? You wanna break?” He almost slurred and you adored how quickly he was loosing himself with you, how much he was loosing his composure. When you squeezed your eyes, moaning at a harder thrust and shook your head no, he whimpered. Next thing you knew, he lowered your legs onto the sofa and layed between them, bringing his body closer to yours. Your chests touched and you could feel his rapid heartbeat, mirroring the rhythm of your own. He nudged your head, which was still turned to the side, with his nose.
“Give me a kiss, c’mon, starlight.” He kissed your cheek, slowing down his thrusts to a lazy, delicate ones. “I couldn’t get a kiss all day, I need it. Let me.” And when you saw his eyes, full of desperation and something that reminded you of adoration, you couldn’t keep denying him. Your lips touched his and he didn’t let go of them until you came, and later when he began growling straight into your mouth, chasing his own undoing.
It was the last time you met up, and after that you decided that you had to cut it off completely. You couldn’t continue being with him like this, not when you knew that he already loved someone else. Being with him this close messed with your head. You didn’t want to feel like a convenient second choice and you couldn’t help but feel that your meetings were slowly becoming more and more intimate. You had to constantly remind yourself that you weren’t together. You made sure to label the change in your relationship properly at the start of the arrangement — still on friendly terms, with occasional mutual pleasure. But the close proximity and constant intimacy started to make the lines blurry in your mind.
And your heart couldn’t take it anymore, it hurt every time you reminded yourself that he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, and that he never will.
After that movie night you decided that the next step to your goal would be to stop engaging in small talk with him, especially the one that occurred at work.
You worked together at the Hunter’s Association, he was one of the best Hunters out there, and you specialized in weapon modification from the safety of your own desk. You wanted to be a hunter once, but with your Evol involving micromodification you guessed that you could be needed in a position that involved working with weaponry. After working there for years, you were passionate about your work and elated to have a job you loved and where you thrived while helping others to the best of your abilities.
Thus, because of the shared place of employment, you saw Xavier almost every day. He was often near your desk, passing by it, putting snacks before you or teasing you with that soft smile of his. So cutting the contact out there was one of the toughest jobs for you, but it had to be done.
When you knew that he would be free, you found a task that needed completion in other departments, so that you will not cross paths. Often, instead of others coming to you to fix their weapons, you proposed to make the trip instead. In this way you were always quick on your feet, going from department to department, back to the workshop and again to the others’ desks. You didn’t mind the extra activity, it made you think less about your breaking heart.
And when Xavier managed to catch you from time to time, because he always somehow would, you were trying to appear too busy even for a small conversation.
“Where are you rushing off to again? I didn’t manage to talk to you these past few days.” He said one day when he caught you by your elbow while you were going out of the bathroom. He must’ve seen you go in there and wait for you to come out. He brought you a little closer to himself and looked at your face so intently, that you got scared he could see right through you.
“Sorry Xai, I’m just really busy lately.” You answered, maybe too quickly, and were trying to calm your beating heart upon seeing him so close again. Too close. It didn’t help that he was in his hunter’s uniform, that made him look twice as dreamy. You were so close that you could also smell his comforting scent and see the small scar on his cheek that he got last year after you two tried ice skating for the first time.
The first and the last, for it appeared that you were much better at it than he would ever be, and you wanted to avoid him getting hurt again. It was also before your friends-with-benefits situation, when your friendship was pure and healthy. Your heart squeezed remembering how he grabbed your hand then, and how tightly he used to hold it throughout the whole activity.
“Xavier, are you sure you don’t want to go back home already? I’m afraid that your cut will scar if we leave it like that.” You said, looking at the bandaid on his cheek, the only remedy for his small injury that you could provide at that time.
He squeezed your hand and still appeared sheepish after his fall. You secretly found him adorable, you never saw him doing something in which he didn’t excel in. It was as if he let you see a part of himself that no one had ever seen before. That thought made your chest warmer.
“No. I won’t let the ice defeat me.” He said surely and you knew that he won’t give up, even if his legs already visibly trembled from exhaustion. You let out a sigh. “Besides, you’re holding my hand now, so I feel much safer.” He looked at you, his voice soft and cheeks red, most likely from the cold air. Seeing him in such a vulnerable state made you completely overcome by the feeling of tenderness, and you send him a huge smile, thinking that it was the first time he relied on your protection, and not the other way around.
Little did you know that this smile would catch him by surprise so much that he slipped backwards, this time pulling you down with him. However, your reflexes slightly worked, because you managed to put your hand behind his head, shielding it from the impact with ice. You landed on him with a groan as his hands moved to pull your body closer.
“Oh god, Xai, are you okay? How did that happen?” You asked him, trying to lift yourself off of him. You felt him relax his head further into your hand, and when you raised yourself enough to face him directly, he sent you a wide smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. This sight made your heart melt.
“See, I knew you would protect me.” He replied, clearly referring to your hand behind his head. “My little savior.” He called you, and when you puffed the air out, annoyed that he could have hurt himself for real this time, his smile turned into a full laugh, his body shaking under yours. He looked so angelic, covered in snow, laughing in a way that was so scarce that you couldn’t help but join him in his moment of happiness.
And thanks to your mittens, your hand was left with only a purple bruise from the impact. Still, Xavier couldn’t let you forget about it up to the day it disappeared completely, expressing guilt for the minor injury, his sight chasing your hand every time it appeared in his line of vision. He often caressed it softly with his fingers, looking at it with a mysteriously thoughtful expression, whispering “My little savior.” under his breath. It made you wish that the bruise would never disappear.
You took a step back, suddenly overwhelmed by the memories and the closeness between you. He always invaded your personal space, stood so close that you could almost feel his breath on your face. This time, you had had to cut it out for your own good.
“S’okay. You’re always busy but I guess I just got used to meeting you near your desk. Just text me after work? Maybe we could meet up for our book club today.” He said and you swallowed the awful feeling of longing in your chest. Book club was the term you came up with when you both just wanted to sit and read together for hours. Unfortunately, you knew how book club sessions looked like since the beginning of your friends-with-benefits arrangement.
You were sitting together in silence, reading for hours, then talked about your books until you both lost your breaths. A wonderful experience, you adored your little reading sessions, but you knew that recently they always ended with his lips on yours, and with your clothes scattered around his bedroom.
You couldn’t let this go on forever. You couldn’t go back to being just friends now, and you couldn’t keep him so close, knowing that he will never fully be yours. You pitied your poor heart.
“Sure, will do. See you around!” You were aware how awkward you sounded, but before he could stop you, you were already off to your another task of the day.
You didn’t text him after work, and neither did you reply to his message in time. The next day you send him an excuse that you were tired and fell asleep quickly, and you hoped that he believed it or didn’t care enough to question you further.
If the distance hurt you this bad now, you couldn’t even imagine how would it feel when he eventually would’ve left you for her.
ੈ✩‧₊˚
The next stage of your plan involved not answering his texts at all. You allowed yourself small replies from time to time, most often very brief, if the situation called for it. Replying excuses from left to right. Then, you incorporated not picking up his calls, especially on weekends, when he appeared to want to see you the most, because you were absent from the Association building and he couldn’t catch even a glimpse of you.
The distance you yourself put between you broke your heart, and you were getting more and more depressed by the day. Ignoring the person you loved wasn’t easy, when he was the one with whom you wanted to spend your time the most.
To distract yourself from the situation, you were trying to pass your time differently. You were meeting up with your family and friends, or you started doing things that you were putting off for ages. Everything and anything to fill the void in your heart caused by the absence of the one you loved. The absence forced by you.
It had to be done, you reminded yourself daily. You had to end this somehow, no matter how it hurt you. You had to move on. You couldn’t still be in love with him the day he would end up with MC. You knew it would ruin you.
Three weeks passed since your last meeting at the Association and you could feel that Xavier was getting impatient. His calls were more frequent. His messages longer. Sometimes while running away from him at work you could catch how he was scanning the room in search of you. How frustrated he seemed to be. How upset.
You understood it. You were best friends after all, and he also probably needed someone near him to help him get his head clear of MC. You knew that it must’ve been hard for him. But you were sure you were doing the right thing, that’s why you kept avoiding him during the past month, and not only it was the longest period you’ve been away from each other since the start of your complicated arrangement, but also the longest time since the start of your friendship. Even when the times were rough, you managed to see each other at least once or twice a week.
You felt the pain of the distance too. Missing him almost every second of the day. But you had your reasons. You didn’t want to try to satiate the hunger he felt for another woman anymore.
So every time his name appeared on your phone screen, along with the picture of him shoving two muffins into his mouth at the same time, you closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and waited out the signal, simultaneously praying for and dreading the silence.
ੈ✩‧₊˚
On a quiet rainy day, after a month of ignoring almost every attempt to make contact from Xavier, you heard your phone ping thrice. You sighed and put the book you were reading down, deciding that it was a good moment to reply something short to him in order to slightly ease his worries, and make him feel less alarmed. You wanted distance, but you still sticked to responding from time to time, to appear casual. To let the connection break off less abruptly.
xavier: why cant I see U at all recently.
xavier: why are U not picking up my calls and not replying to my texts.
xavier: are U hiding from me?
you: Of course not, just busy.
xavier: busy for me but not busy for others I know U are going out all the time.
xavier: are U mad at me? did I do something wrong.
you: No, you didn’t, don’t worry. It’s just me. I have a lot of things on my mind recently.
xavier: could U please have me on Ur mind too? I miss U.
xavier: so bad it hurts
You let out a rugged breath, and decided to stop responding, but then another text came. This time, making your blood run cold.
xavier: going back from a rough mission right now i think i need help.
you: Oh my god, are you okay? Are you injured?
xavier: cant tell U why dont you come and see me for Urself.
you: Fine, I need to see if you’re okay. Do you need anything? Food? Medicine? I will pick something up on my way there.
xavier: i just need U
You closed your eyes and hid your face in your palms, then swore it would be the last time. You will go in, treat his wounds and go out. It had to be the last time you allowed yourself to be this close to him, and then you had to cut him off completely. A month wasn’t enough to heal your broken heart, and these small sightings won’t make your heart feel any less burdened.
It had to end today.
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When the door opened, he managed to take your breath away once more.
First, only figuratively. His beauty always managed to amaze you. He looked so handsome no matter the circumstances, his hair so fluffy and shiny, his face like that of an angel, with sharp jawline and soft, pink lips almost screaming at you to be kissed. When you met his eyes, you almost gasped at the intensity of his deep blue gaze. There wasn’t a thing about him you didn’t miss terribly after so much time apart.
Then, literally, when the first thing he did was grabbing your hand and hugging you tightly to his chest, that was still clothed in his hunter uniform. He pressed his face into the crown of your hair and touched the nape of your neck, holding it gently with his cold hand.
“Was the mission that difficult?” You asked, thinking that his reaction to you was mostly due to his need for someone else’s closeness. The need for security. “Were you in danger?” You asked quietly, fear bubbling in your mind.
“No. I lied.” He murmured and you felt him squeezing you even harder, inhaling your scent with content. His hand started stroking your back, slowly making its way under your thin coat. “Didn’t know what else to say to make you come see me.” He said and you hoped that he couldn’t hear, nor feel the sound of your erratic heartbeat.
He shouldn’t say things like these, it made you feel too hopeful. You tried to push that feeling down, knowing that’s how he normally acted with you, his best friend. You knew that he didn’t have a lot of people beside him, thus he treasured the ones that stayed. And that thought made you so incredibly apologetic that you had to swallow the tension in your throat. You hated that you fell for him so hard. You hated that you had to leave him because of it. You hated that you knew, that he would blame himself when you’ll leave.
And you started to hate yourself the most because of all of it.
“Did you miss me that much?” You teased, trying to calm yourself with a friendly banter.
“Yes.” The answer was immediate. The kiss he placed on your temple as natural as breathing. “Everything and everyone seems to be taking you away from me these days.” He said and you could hear him sulking. Your heart squeezed again, but you knew that you were doing the right thing. The distance was necessary.
Necessary for you to avoid breaking. You had to protect yourself first, you decided. You couldn’t remain in love with him forever. You had to move on and in order to do that you had to keep the distance. Which was impossible with him around, when he craved physical touch so badly.
You started to be so mad at yourself for breaking your streak today. You didn’t realize how touchy he will be after some time apart and it was getting to your head. You were so conflicted. You felt too much, and that was always the case when you were around him.
He was in love with someone else. Your head was screaming loudly, trying to calm the wave of unwanted emotions.
“I’m sorry.” You whispered. I love you, you thought. “But now I’m here, so maybe I can inspect you for any injuries? You always seem to neglect them as long as they don’t make you bleed out.” You managed to free yourself from his hold and missed how his hands went after you for a second. He didn’t want you to put distance between you two. Not yet, not ever.
He looked into your beautiful, shiny eyes and nodded without a thought. He couldn’t say no to you, not when he saw the still remaining hint of worry in them. Besides, checking for injuries always came with physical contact, and he was so starved. He needed to feel your body close to his. Your hands on him, somewhere, anywhere, everywhere. He felt addicted and craved some kind of relief. He looked after you like a lost puppy, following your footsteps closely, touching the familiar material of your coat that you left on a counter. The distance this past month made him feral, every part of his body screamed to hold you and don’t let go.
You sat down on his couch, and patted the place next to you, hinting at him to sit beside you. He was trying not to appear too eager while doing so, and also when he started taking off the upper part of his uniform. He was almost shaking with excitement knowing that you really came to see him. That you were worried about him. The distance was making him sick. Furious. Desperate. Hurt.
He suppressed a shudder when you touched his shoulder and peeled away the material off his back completely. Your hands were pleasantly warm, as always. He bit his lip trying not to gasp from the contact.
He needed more.
“Xavier.” He hummed, giddy inside upon finally hearing his name from your lips. He was bracing for your outburst. Couldn’t wait for it. “You said you lied about the mission being hard, while having a fucking gash on your back? I-I can’t believe you...” He heard your angry, shaky voice and smirked unintentionally. You were worried about him and he liked that. He liked the attention, when it was coming from you.
Yet, you didn’t know that.
You cursed under your breath and went to grab the first aid kit from one of his drawers, and proceeded to patch the man back up, having no idea that he allowed the Wanderer to injure him, to have an excuse to see you. To keep you with him for a minute longer, even if it was only under the pretense of tending to his injuries. He was ready to do anything at this point to keep you from slipping away from his grasp.
If you knew that, you wouldn’t be so adamant on distancing yourself.
But because you didn’t know, you also didn’t predict that after patching him up, he would propose you to eat dinner with him, making up an excuse that he didn’t want to be alone with his pain. Later, when you wanted to come back to your place, he mentioned he wanted to play kitty cards, the game you adored. You couldn’t refuse him.
During the next hours you spent at his place you both talked in the same way you always used to - about everything and anything, exchanging opinions, stories and everyday thoughts. You laughed together for the first time in weeks, and your cheeks hurt from how much he was able to make you smile. You always had so much fun with him, he was your favorite person in the whole world. You missed him so bad, despite knowing that you couldn’t back out from your plan fully. Yet, you allowed yourself a little break, telling yourself that it was in order for your distancing to not look suspicious. In addition, he was injured, and you felt the need to comfort him in any way you could. The gash on his back wasn’t that deep, but it worried you regardless.
The atmosphere changed drastically only when he managed to win the next round of kitty cards. You jokingly frowned at him, forging displeasure, and he looked directly at your pounting lips. The time seemed to stop when you noticed that look. He raised his hand to touch your collarbone, caressing it with his fingers, up to your neck and over your cheek. He looked deeply into your eyes, and you noticed how dark his became. You found it fascinating that his soft gaze could change so drastically in a matter of seconds.
His hand reached out to grab your chin and brought your face closer to his. And when he whispered: “Could I ask for a reward?” with that dangerous, needy voice of his, you knew that you couldn’t deny him anything.
When your lips touched, you decided that it will be the last time you let it happen. It would be your goodbye, before loosing the feel of his touch. You thought that you could at least make the best of it, get lost in the artificial feeling of being treasured for the last time, before you started the last phase of your plan.
After that, you had to cut off the ties with him completely. No matter the measures. No matter the pain.
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“Xavier, m-maybe not today?” You asked when you realized how low he was going with his kisses. You knew what he was about to do, and you hated how much you couldn’t contain the sounds that were coming out of your mouth when he was doing it. Besides, it didn’t feel like a mutual pleasure anymore, it felt like an act of service and you were not sure you wanted him to pleasure only you.
He looked at you, having already dropped to his knees. He looked ruined, his hair already a mess from the touch of your fingers, lips wet and swollen, shirt off displaying his toned chest, bandaged in the center with caution. He was practically heaving. The sight made you blush.
“Why not?” He voice sounded whiny, his lips already kissing the inside of your thigh as if he couldn’t restrain himself. Every kiss send electricity to your already wet core and you found it hard to think clearly. His hands were grabbing your tights possessively, relishing in their softness. “Please, let me eat you out. I’ll make you feel good, I promise.” The pleading in his eyes was so apparent. So unfiltered.
“Don’t you want to get to the point already?” You offered shyly and he huffed out a laugh.
“Where are you trying to run off to this time?” It sounded like a joke, but he appeared annoyed. “Relax, starlight and let me take care of you. Please.” You still hesitated. It made him pout. “I need it, please, star. I want to taste you so bad. I didn’t manage to last time.” He kissed your knee and put his head on it, looking for the answer in your unsure eyes. “Will you let me?” His pleading tone, along with his desperate gaze was what made you break. You whispered a soft confirmation and it was all it took before he quickly put his mouth on your core, licking vigorously, devouring you like the most delicious thing on the planet.
“Mmmm.” You heard him humming, before your own cries, along with the constant tremble of your legs, drowned out any other sound.
He was elated.
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“Mmmh— Yes. Yes. H—holy—” He whimpered at the same time with his thrusts and squeezed your waist harder, moving his hands up and down your back, caressing it affectionately. “You are s-so warm, so beautiful, fuck—” He moaned when you tightened on him. You stiffed a whimper and tried to commit to memory the touch of his strong hands.
He was taking you slowly from behind and the pace was almost unbearable for you. You needed more, and you couldn’t stand how romantic it felt when he was this gentle with you. However, at the same time you didn’t want him to strain himself, you were aware that the slow pace was reasonable due to the injury on his back. The slow pace did surprise you either way, you thought that after so much time apart he would be quick and rough, chasing his pleasure faster than he normally would. Instead, he acted even more passionately than usual.
The slow pace brought you so much pleasure that you couldn’t contain the sounds escaping from your lips. He kept pressing your most sensitive spots, his thrusts slow, deep and precise. His forehead rest on the back of your shoulder, and you could feel his hot, labored breath pressing against your damp skin.
He made you feel so appreciated, and so cared for, and that made you uneasy. More so, with the accompaniment of the things he was constantly saying to you, from the moment you allowed him to touch you today.
“Can you turn around now? Please, my star, I want to see you.” He half-whispered and started kissing your neck, then moving his mouth to every patch of your skin he could reach: your shoulders, back, arms. No place was left unkissed under his relentless lips. You shook your head no, you didn’t want to let this become even more passionate than it already was. You positioned yourself facing the headboard of the bed from the very beginning, and you were adamant to keep your stance up until the end. You feared that your eyes would betray you, displaying your feelings for him and that was what made you not lose your composure.
Upon hearing your refusal for the third time this night, he proceeded to voice his frustrations by grunting, and thrust into you a little harder. You moaned loudly, surprised at the sudden change of tempo.
“Please, starlight.” He begged, his voice achingly earnest. He picked up the pace and you almost choked with how deep he reached inside of you now. You thought that you could never get used to how big he was, his girth filling you up to the brim. “Turn around. T-turn around for me.”
“X-xavier slow down, I don’t want you to get hurt—” You managed to choke out, grasping sheets with your hands for some kind of stability. You closed your eyes when they were turning upwards, biting your lip in the process. He felt otherworldly, but you couldn’t help but think about the gash on his back. He shouldn’t strain himself.
“Then turn around and look at me.” He repeated and you shook your head again.
“I-I can’t, I—Ah—”
“W-why do you keep—Mmh—denying me?” His voice came out like a growl and he kept up the fast tempo. Then, he grabbed your shoulder and put his other hand on your lower back, making you bend over more. His thrusts got even faster, making you moan louder. “Like that. Yes.” You breathed quietly. So good. He was so, so good. “I just want to see your face. I need to kiss y—A—Ah—Kiss you so bad, so, so, so bad.” He thrusted more deeply, making you involuntarily back out from the stimulation, your body almost collapsing, but he quickly grabbed you with his strong arms, and brought you even closer to him. You saw stars and touched one of the arms that held your whole body — from your waist, between your breasts, to your neck. His arm was so hard, so strong. He was huge compared to you. “No, n-no, don’t run away, star. You feel so good—G-God how I missed this—” He held you closer by the second, pressing more kisses to your shoulders, his thrusts becoming quicker, less deep. You were holding back your tears from how good he felt inside you. “I missed you. I missed you. I miss you.” He started babbling and that’s how you knew he was close.
To your surprise, he suddenly pulled out of you completely and grabbed you by your shoulders, turning you around to finally face him. Before you could show any signs of protest, he lowered himself onto his forearms, caging your head between his biceps so that he could have a perfect view of your face. He took his cock in one of his hands and he slipped himself into you again with ease. You shuddered and cried out softly with astonishment.
“Xavier—!”
“Yes. Yes, that’s my name.” He started thrusting into you again, this time much slower and more attentive, and looked deep into your eyes. You had nowhere to run, the only thing you could do was to close your eyes, but the sight of him so close made you want to never look away. “Say it one more time. Just once.” He looked ethereal, his silver hair wet from the perspiration that gathered oh his forehead, and his cheeks painted a pretty shade of red. You could see how blissful he felt. “So p-pretty.” He finally kissed your lips softly. “So sweet.” He licked into your mouth, deepening the kiss. It made your toes curl, you loved when he kissed you this sloppily. When he released your already swollen lips, there was a string of saliva connecting you. It was all so intense.
“Why were you denying my kisses?” He kissed you again deeply, sucking on your tongue. His slow thrusts made you go insane. “You don’t like kissing me like this?” He sucked on your lips until they were red and swollen. There was so much saliva. He licked them and kissed them again. “I could come from this feeling alone. So soft.” You were shocked at how much he talked. Was he always this talkative? Or were you realizing it only now, when you knew that the closeness with him would soon come to an end?
“Am I making you feel good? Yeah?” You decided to nod at him truthfully, your moans short, resembling small hiccups. You were lost in the pleasure, you could feel the end approaching. He put his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. “W—wow, you—you sound so adorable, I won’t last long—” He moaned and grabbed your face in his hands, kissing your nose first, then softly your lips.
“Yes, yeah, let go. Let go my little star. My starlight, my treasure.” He whispered into your ear, feeling you clench down on him as you came with his name on your lips. You felt him reaching the end quickly after you, he shuddered, his mouth opened, and he released into the condom with a low moan. Still cumming, he took your face into his hands and kissed your forehead gently. When you both were still coming down from the high, breathing heavily, he began stroking your hair, pushing it out of your face, and kissing your cheeks.
What in the world was all that?
God, you couldn’t do this anymore. You couldn’t let this keep up, it felt too real, too romantic, and your heart really couldn’t take it. Not when every time you were together like this you keep thinking that he would like you to be someone else instead. Did he imagined her under him this time? You trembled, scared because of that thought, but the things he was saying made you feel that it really could be the case.
Your breath came out shakily and you took his muscular forearms in your palms and grazed them gently with your thumbs. You let yourself feel for the last time how warm his body was, how pleasurable his weight on top of you. You kept your eyes closed to not let him see your tears, but you couldn’t stop one from going down your cheek.
And of course he saw it as soon as it appeared. He seemed to always look at you when you wanted him to ignore you the most.
He kissed it off, swiped the wetness with his thumb and proceeded to kiss your temple.
“Why are you crying?” He asked softly, his eyebrows furrowed. “Did I hurt you?” He appeared so concerned, and you felt the shivers going down your spine.
Yes, you wanted to scream.
“No, of course not.” You said instead. Because it was your fault for feeling too much. “I’m okay, just tired.” You lied straight to his face. He send you a small smile and kissed your closed eyelids gently.
And when he shifted and pulled out from you slowly with a little hiss, you let out a sigh and knew that your time with him had to end now.
But before you could lift yourself up, he hugged you from the side and put his head on your chest. He was listening to the sound of your heartbeat, and you already knew that it had a soothing effect on him. His hand started caressing one side of your waist, his hair touching your chin, his scent overlapping you. You could feel his heartbeat on you, fast but steady. Another tear escaped from your eyes. You had to run away. You couldn’t take the closeness anymore. It was too painful.
“Xavier, I—” You swallowed the sob forming in your throat. Your voice came out rusty. “I really need to go.”
“Already? Stay with me for a little while longer.” He squeezed you harder to himself, showing no intention of releasing you from his hold. You hated that you needed to cut short such a vulnerable moment with him. “The night is still young. I thought we could maybe watch something together? Or bake these cinnamon cookies you like? I practiced, they taste and look almost perfect now.” You closed your eyes hard, moved by his thoughtfulness, and you almost sobbed audibly if it wasn’t for your hand quickly covering your mouth.
But he felt it, and it made all the muscles in his body tighten, as if he was struck.
“Star?” He loosed his hold on you and quickly studied your face. “What’s wrong?” His eyes became huge, filled with worry. And that concern on his features was what finally made you run.
You raised gently and pushed yourself from him, starting to pick up your scattered pieces of clothing. Your hands shakily put the panties and your sweater on your trembling body, not once looking Xavier’s way. He was waiting patiently for your answer.
“I can’t do this anymore, Xavier.” You replied, feeling more comfortable now that you had some clothes on. You couldn’t meet his eyes, but you heard him standing up from the bed.
“Do what?” He sounded puzzled. You heard him grabbing and putting on some pants hastily, clicking his belt in place. As if he was preparing to run after you. “Did I do something wrong? You didn’t like it today? Was I too intense?” You had never heard him speak so quickly, and the panic in his tone was a rare occurrence too.
“No, it’s— I am at fault here.” You answered truthfully, and you took a couple steps away from him. You wanted to run as fast as you could but for the love of God, you couldn’t locate any other pieces of your clothing. Your eyesight was clouded by unleashed tears. No, not now, you couldn’t let them fall until you were in the safety of your home.
“But you were perfect.” His voice carried more panic by the second. “We could change some things. You could tell me what to do differently, everything works with me as long as I do it with you.”
You suddenly remembered the beginning of your night, and rushed to his living room, were you finally found your pants.
“No. No, and please stop trying to persuade me. This—this friends with benefits thing, it ends now.” You uttered surely, now fully clothed. You turned around and finally laid your eyes on him, and saw him wearing only black jeans and a miserable expression on his face. God, he still looked perfect. He almost shined, the workout clearly visible on his face, his hair, his lips. Your resolution almost wavered.
“Okay. Okay, of course, I—I understand.” He answered quickly, and you felt a slight pang in your chest at how easily he took the news. This whole time you were so easily disposable. “But please stay. I want to spend some time with you, I haven’t seen you in such a long time.” He took a careful step towards you, and you wanted to bolt then and there. “Please, stay.”
“No, Xai, I—” You paused to take a breath, trying not to crumble in front of him. His worried expression felt like a knife to your chest. You were his best friend, yet here you were, clearly wanting to run away from him—how could you expect him to feel anything but hurt upon such a sight? You felt incredibly cruel. “I really can’t. I think I need a break from all—all of this.”
“You mean from me?” He didn’t wait for your answer, the thoughts in his head seemed to go quicker than lightning. “No, please, I swear that if you don’t like it then I won’t touch you anymore. I swear.” You hated how upset he sounded. You closed your eyes for a second and fresh tears slipped away. You couldn’t keep them from falling anymore. “You know how much you mean to me. Don’t make me stay away.” He looked as if you were tearing his heart out, his posture slumped, hands shaking. How you wished you could take them into your own and warm them up.
“I have to.” Your voice came out whiny. He stepped closer to you, keeping his arms in front of himself.
“But why?” His question was quiet, nearly a whisper. He couldn’t help but wonder, if you really wanted a break from him, then why were you crying as if you didn’t want to go?
“I—” You stopped yourself before going as far as to utter a confession. He couldn’t know. Not now. Not ever. “This— This situation, and how our friendship looks like right now it’s—it’s so wrong.” You opted for a response that was the closest to the truth.
“It’s not.” He replied immediately. “Not for me.”
“Well it is for me. Friends don’t sleep with each other, Xavier! We messed up so bad this time and I’m afraid we can’t let this past us.”
“Do you regret it that much?” His voice was losing its’ strength, and he seemed so utterly hurt. Meanwhile, you were just trying to protect yourself from feeling even more pain. How could you make him understand without confessing to him? You didn’t really know because you were always honest with him before. He was your safe place.
And to think that everything could be avoided, your friendship left unscratched if only you could control your feelings better. But you had no idea how to stop loving him so deeply, when he was everything that you’ve ever dreamed of.
“I should. I know that I should, it was never going to end well, I—”
“Stay. Please, starlight, stay. At least for one more night, let me hold you just for one more—” His arms went out to grab you and you flinched, taking a few steps back. His jaw tightened.
He was always afraid that he will see you run away from his touch. He felt as if his nightmare became reality - the thought of loosing you too much for him to bear.
“Xavier, I can’t!” You trembled all over. Why did he make this so hard for you? “I can’t do this with you anymore, can’t you understand how much it hurts me?” The truth was at the tip of your tongue, craving to be spoken out loud.
“Why? Why does it hurt you? The only one who has a good reason to be hurt is me, you avoided me, ignored me, and for what? If you just talked to me honestly one time—”
“You are in love with someone else!”
The silence that followed was unbearable and seemed to last ages. Slow ticking of the clock was the only thing cutting through the tension, reminding you that the time didn’t stop, even if your heart seemed to do so.
You turned to him, the tears falling from your eyes in cascades now and your chest was coming up and down rapidly with how fast you were breathing.
The tears run down your cheeks quickly, making your vision less blurry. How you wished that they stayed in place, if that meant that you wouldn’t have to see Xavier’s pained expression, that quickly changed into one of utter confusion. You were shaking with how much you were feeling, your frustration pooling out of you in a form of shaking hands and bitten lips.
“I can’t continue being like this with you when I know that you’re in love with her! And I get it! I really do. She’s so wonderful, and so, so lovable. And I could never be her, no matter how much you would want me to be. I just don’t want to be a replacement anymore.” You continued, the desperation in your voice almost making you wince. You sounded pathetic and felt so embarrassed for it. You felt as if you were loosing the ground beneath your feet.
“What?” He said completely stunned. He wasn’t moving a single muscle. “What on earth are you talking about?” He hissed, and took a step towards you, and when you shook your head and wanted to bolt through the door, he quickly grabbed you by your wrist and pressed your body close to his. You gasped at the contact, so sudden and forced. “No, stop running away from me!” He raised his voice, still holding your wrist tightly. You’ve never heard him sound so irritated. “Speak.” You kept your head low, when he was desperately trying to catch eye contact, but you couldn’t look at him right now. Not when your true feelings were basically flowing to the surface.
“About what? You really thought I didn’t know about your feelings for her?” You struggled to keep your voice from shaking. “Xavier, I know, and I knew from the very beginning, and you really don’t have to explain yourself to me. I really understand.” You tried to free your wrist from his grasp, but he held it too tightly. You needed to run, this conversation wasn’t supposed to happen, you didn’t even have a reason to be mad at him. You couldn’t blame him for not loving you romantically, nor for feeling this way towards someone else. You were only friends, and friends should be happy for each other when they find someone dear to them, not sick of the idea of loosing the other to someone else.
“I’m afraid you actually don’t understand anything.” He sounded almost defeated. His voice back to it’s soft tone, but his hold on you unrelenting.
“It’s really okay, I—”
“No.” He scoffed. You finally gained enough courage to let your eyes meet his and you were instantly appalled at how furious he appeared to be. “It’s truly NOT.” He released your wrist and put his hands up to stroke his hair back. He breathed out loudly. “Who the fuck are you talking about?” He asked, confusion and irritation taking over his features completely. You never saw him wear that expression while talking with you.
“Oh, don’t make me—” You cut off, seeing his furious glare. You took a deep breath, stepped back from him and touched your cheek, trying to swipe the wetness caused by your tears. You failed, they were still coming down, one by one, making your efforts futile. “MC. You know that I mean MC.”
“You have to be fucking kidding me.” He groaned and let his head fall back. He covered his face with his hands for a second, and when he looked at you again, you couldn’t read his expression correctly. “Who told you about it? Where did you get it from?”
“Jeremiah.” That’s all he needed to know. And apparently it was enough for him to grasp the situation. He laughed humorlessly and shook his head, his hands squeezed tightly into fists by his sides.
“I will strangle him this time. I swear, I will—”
“Oh, please, Xavier, stop! What’s so wrong about me knowing? I was glad that someone finally enlightened me!” You couldn’t believe that he was so angry at you for knowing such an important thing. Not when from the moment Jeremiah said that he had a thing for MC for a long time, you wondered why he kept that a secret from you. “You never even said a word about it even though I thought we were best friends. I had to learn from someone else and that already hurt.” You wanted this conversation to be over. You wanted him to admit to it already and let you go away, with a broken, but at least free heart.
But he had different plans.
“Have you maybe thought that I never said a word about it simply because it wasn’t true?” He asked carefully, his voice still angry. “I just can’t believe you thought that I loved someone else—”
“What?” Your mind went blank. You needed a moment to collect your thoughts. “What do you mean it’s not true?” You sniffed quietly, confusion taking over your face.“B-But Jeremiah said that you had a past with her and—”
“I did. I had feelings for her once, but that was literal lifetimes ago!” His irritation didn’t ease in the slightest. “I had feelings for someone who looked similar to her. But she’s not the same person anymore, and even if she was I couldn’t possibly fall in love with her. Not now, not ever.” You stopped in your tracks, trying to analyze everything he was saying to you and failing miserably at it. You looked at his face, your expression puzzled, searching for an answer there, hidden between his beautiful, soft features. It shocked you to see that now he started to calm himself down, gaze genuine, an image of complete transparency.
You couldn’t wrap your head around the idea that you were mistaken. All this time, when you thought you never stood a chance, when you thought that he loved another, when you wanted to let him go—
“You’re not in love with MC.” It wasn’t a question anymore, your voice quiet while you were trying to process that thought. He must’ve seen how you fought with the thoughts inside your head, because he released a groan and took a step towards you. You unintentionally took one step back. He frowned.
“Of course I’m not.” Voice sweet like honey, stance sure, his eyes searched desperately for yours. He looked at your face, covered in tears and his eyebrows furrowed deeper, hating how upset you seemed and didn’t know how to reverse it. “How could I ever be, when your face is all I can see, every time I close my eyes?” He uttered looking at you with such devotion that it almost made your knees buckle.
Complete silence took over your thoughts after his confession. You didn’t know what was happening.
But fortunately, his mind finally started to piece everything together in a picture, that although was beyond frustrating to think about, was giving him so much hope for something he thought he already lost.
He allowed himself to relax, took a deep breath and finally decided to drop his inner shackles, letting his emotions flow out of him without restraint.
“You are the one that I love.” He said clearly, not moving a muscle. He wondered if you could see the quick movement of his chest, with how hard his heart was trying to escape through it to reach you. Whereas, you felt as if yours stopped moving completely, along with the time around you, not ready to believe that this was truly happening. “It was you from the very beginning. I adored you since the day I first saw you.” He continued, his gaze piercing into your face, slight confusion visible on his features. “And I thought that was obvious? I wasn’t exactly the best at hiding my feelings, especially after I told you about them the first night we spend together.”
You blinked slowly. Once, then twice.
Your head hurt. You couldn’t wrap it around everything he was saying. Xavier was in love with you? And he already told you about it? You were so confused that the only way you knew how to react was with denial.
“You—You didn’t. I didn’t know, you are not being serious.” He shook his head in disbelief.
“I did. You really don’t remember?” His tone softened, and he waited a short second for your answer, but couldn’t contain his nerves. “It was the night I kissed you for the first time, thinking that would be the last. But you reciprocated.” His eyes gleamed in the moonlight, and you found yourself holding your breath, afraid even the slightest sound might interrupt the flow of his confession.
“You—You kissed me back, and let me do things to you I only ever dared to dream about before.” He took another step your way, a small smile grazing his handsome face. “And the confession slipped out of me so naturally before we even reached the bed.” He briefly recalled that fateful night, describing the conversations you forgot, but longed to remember since that very moment.
“You didn’t reply, but you responded nicely to my touch, so I thought that meant that you wanted me too, that maybe you’d accept me. As your beloved. Your soulmate.” You brought your hand to cover your mouth. You couldn’t believe it. “But then in the morning when you woke up, you were panicking. I tried to reassure you, but you weren’t listening to me.”
That part of the story you knew by heart, him telling you that he couldn’t forget, didn’t want to forget. Back then you didn’t connect it with anything close to confession, but more with the change in your relationship. You really didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, you didn’t even dream about him loving you, when you though that he loved MC. Insecurities and false assumptions completely clouded your vision.
“And when you proposed staying friends, with the bonus of intimacy, of course I took the chance. I thought you remembered my confession and didn’t reciprocate my feelings, but I was so desperate that I would take anything you were willing to give me, even if it didn’t involve your love. I—” he cut off, blush flushed over his cheeks, up to the tips of his ears. He took a shaky breath. “I was clinging to the hope that maybe through the new shared intimacy I could show you how much you meant to me. And maybe, maybe someday you would start feeling the same, when you realized how good we are together and how good I can be for you.”
“Xavier—Oh my god.” You breathed, your hand still covering your mouth, your eyes never leaving his face. His beautiful, starstruck face, now so full of confusion and unspoken hurt. “Bunny, I’m so, so, so sorry. I had no idea, I—” Your voice practically a whisper, you were still coming to terms with the fact that your feelings were reciprocated. And that you were the one who complicated things between you. “I don’t remember anything you said to me that night. I couldn’t even hear you through the sound of my own blood thrumming in my ears, that’s how drunk I felt. How overwhelmed after our first kiss.”
The alcohol consumed that night also wasn’t of big help. You were a lightweight and you drunk only occasionally, so the few drinks you had already made you feel dizzy. Mixed with the intensity of your emotions, it overwhelmed you so intensely that his touch was all you could remember from that night. But now you could make it all alright.
“I only remember your touch, the things we did, and our conversation the next morning. I remember touching your hand and initiating the kiss, and my tipsy brain just thought that you went with it to forget about MC.” You said truthfully, letting it all pour out of you. Your cheeks burned with the embarrassment of admitting how desperate you were for him, that the thought he loved another didn’t stop you from having sex with him.
Then the blush deepened from the realization that from the very beginning the only one he was thinking about was you.
This thought made your head spin, the happiness slowly bubbling in your chest. Your whole body trembled.
“That’s— Fuck. You really don’t remember.” He shook his head again, realizing how deep the misunderstanding reached. “You didn’t initiate anything. I was the one who kissed you first.”
“No, I—”
“Yes. You touched my hand, smiled at me contentedly and said some things and I—I just couldn’t restrain myself any longer.” This time you were the one who started approaching him slowly. You needed him close. Always. And you realized that now you didn’t have any reasons to deny yourself that lack of distance. “You looked so soft, so open and kissable, and I just went for it. And then you reciprocated.” The light in his eyes started sparkling when he noticed that you were finally coming closer to him. He reached out his hand for you and you took it gently, still shaking from the unspoken emotions.
“I can’t believe it. All this time I thought that you were in love with someone else.” His hand was warm, the touch electrifying. You squeezed his hand and intertwined your fingers together. You saw how between your clasped hands, his Evol started shining brightly, shading soft light upon your features. It was a sign that he was excited. “I tried to put a distance between us, end this intimacy because I thought that I was just a second best for you. An easy distraction.”
“How could you think that? Almost from the moment I met you, I have loved you passionately—” He brought you even closer together, pulling you by your intertwined hands, and put his other hand on your cheek. He swiped the reminder of your tears with his fingers, looking into your eyes with a devotion so apparent that it took your ability to form coherent thoughts. How did you manage to miss the way he was always looking your way?
“X-Xavier.”
“I couldn’t even think about anyone else even if I tried to. You occupy my every thought. How could I ever find a place for somebody else in my heart when you fill the space out completely?” Everything that came out of his mouth was laced with impatience. He was trying so hard to make you understand him, and the intensity of his emotions. He couldn’t psychically hold it inside anymore, he restrained himself for so long that he felt as if all of his walls finally crumbled. He needed you to know everything.
“I love you, starlight. I’m so in love with you that I couldn’t contain that feeling inside anymore. I couldn’t even spend five minutes in your presence without trying to touch you, to kiss you, to hold you. My whole body longs for you constantly.” He said, thinking off the months after you started being friends with benefits. How at first he wasn’t sure how much he could take from you, and then, when he noticed that you didn’t mind the affection outside the bedroom, he couldn’t contain himself. He kissed you every time he had a chance, he touched you everywhere he could, he was trying to stay away from you as little as possible. Despite thinking that you did not reciprocate his feelings fully, his love for you flowed out of him naturally, every look and every touch laced with unconditional devotion.
During the period of your silence and avoiding him, he thought that it was because he finally crossed a line. He let his feelings out too much, he finally made you uncomfortable. He was starting to act as you lover, not as your friend and it wasn’t what you agreed to. He thought you still didn’t love him and maybe that was a sign that you never will. And even if that could be the case, he still couldn’t let you go.
And it appeared that he didn’t have to.
That you were not uncomfortable, but unsure.
That it was all a huge misunderstanding.
And the words that came out of your pretty, little mouth next, almost brought him to his knees.
“Xavier. Xavier me too, I—” You stuttered, completely overwhelmed by how much you were feeling. You squeezed his wrists, and looked deep into his beautiful, hopeful eyes. “I love you too. And I fell in love with you long before our first night together. I just thought that it was wishful thinking, because your heart was already taken by someone else. And that I could just stay beside you as your friend and that would be enough. And then share your bed from time to time, if that meant that I could hold you close, be on the receiving end of your affection.” You said and raised on your feet to place a quick kiss on his lips. He chased after you instantly, despite appearing stunned. You noticed his hands were shaking.
“You really mean it?” He asked, leaning towards you, kissing your lips again, this time for longer. He had trouble keeping his mouth away from yours, especially now, that he knew that every one of your kisses was filled with love. “Am I not dreaming this time?” You smiled and stroked his hair affectionately, petting his head, wanting to convey your feelings in every way possible.
“Xavier, I love you.” You repeated, grabbing his head in your palms and looking deep into his eyes. Your voice was strong, leaving no room for uncertainty. “I love you so mu—” He didn’t let you finish that sentence, because he quickly picked you up and spun you around, holding you in his arms. You giggled and put your arms around his neck, holding him tightly, his face buried in your neck. When he stopped, he quickly found your lips again and that kiss felt groundbreaking.
He held you close to him, one hand squeezing you by your waist, and the other holding your jaw gently. His brows furrowed in desperation and his kisses were slow, sensual, sending pleasant shocks throughout your whole body. His tongue made an appearance, and he tasted you in a way that made your legs feel like jelly. He licked into your mouth, grunting lowly, his fingers placing a strand of your hair behind your ear, then tracing patterns on your warm cheek. When you opened your eyes for a second, you could see that the tips of his ears were red. The blush spread through his cheeks too, making him look so adorable.
“It does feel like a dream.” He breathed between kisses. “And sounds too good to be true.” He captured your lips again and you smiled into his mouth. Your heart was about to burst.
“I love you.” You repeated, basking in the feeling of finally being able to say it out loud, be open with your emotions. He released your lips and kissed your forehead. You looked up, and he placed his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, a wide smile adorning his face.
“Don’t stop saying that. You make me so happy.” He said quietly, and you whispered the confession once again, making him sigh shakily.
“I was so stupid. I should’ve asked you right from the start if what Jeremiah said was true.” You said and hugged him more tightly. “I should’ve told you sooner.” You placed your head on his strong chest, your ear touching his bare body, listening to his fast heartbeat. Your hands were hugging his waist, mindful not to touch his bandaged back.
“No, I foolishly thought that telling you once would suffice. I forgot that you drank that night and that could’ve clouded your memory.” He squeezed you harder to himself and started back away with you in his arms, until the back of his legs touched his couch. He feel into it, holding you close, making you sit on his lap. “To think that I could have you sooner—” He looked into your eyes, as if searching for something.
“You had me before, and you have me now. My heart, my body, my soul.” You positioned yourself more comfortably, placing your legs on both sides of his waist, and took his face into your hands. He closed his eyes at the contact, and started to caress your body, from your waist, down to your legs. He squeezed the plush of your tights and let his head fall against the couch pillows.
He couldn’t believe that this was happening. He prayed that this wasn’t a dream, that all of the things your were telling him were true. His chest vibrated pleasurably, incredible warmth spreading through it. His heart beat so quickly, and so loudly that he thought it was the first time he felt its’ beat so intensely himself. Your words made him feel drunk with emotion.
He opened his eyes to look at your face.
He almost choked with how beautiful you were. How divine, sitting on him, caressing his shoulders, smiling at him with the stars in your eyes. He looked at your lips, full and swollen, bearing the signs of his kisses. He looked at your neck, delicate and unmarked, and he stroked it with the back of his hand, wanting to change that fact immediately, knowing that now he was allowed to do that. He switched his gaze to your eyes again and drank them in, basking in their light, wishing that this moment could never end. Or maybe it should, so it could become your new beginning.
You were his treasure. His star, his light, guiding him through life, making his existence worth pursuing. You showed him that the world can be beautiful, despite it’s overbearing cruelty. You were his salvation, his safe place, his one and only, showing him every single day that he mattered, that he was not a lost cause, or a villain in disguise. You taught him that he was capable of loving so intensely and now, that he was loved as passionately in return.
He doubted his worth, but the only way he knew to prove his love for you was by protecting you with his very life. You had no idea, but his sword, now a symbol of your bond, was yours to command—and you were the only reason he continued to wield it.
“What are you thinking about?” Your voice was not more than a whisper, your eyes still looking into his starry ones, losing yourself in the deep blue. You loved them, how magnificent and expressive they were, and you swore to yourself to tell him about it every day.
He seemed to get out of the trace he was in, and his eyes softened, still taking you in. He smiled and took your hands into his, and kissed your knuckles, his kisses gentle and long-lasting.
“You.” He replied shortly, his voice gentle and reassuring. He put your hands on his shoulders, making you hug his neck with them. You complied and put your whole arms around his neck, bringing your bodies closer. One of his hands touched your waist, caressing it delicately, and the other one stroked your hair, admiring its’ softness. His eyes never left yours. “Always you, my starlight. Then, now, and till the end of my days. I will always carry you in my mind, and in my heart, to be able to reach you, no matter the distance.” You could feel his breath on your face with how close you were to each other, and he gazed at your open lips, which were already waiting to be kissed senselessly. “I love you, as I never loved anyone else in my life, and I never will again.” His lips captured yours in a kiss so soft, yet so desperate, and full of adoration, that you felt a single, happy tear escape from your eye. He deepened the kiss and held you throughout the night, kissing you and touching you, never wanting the moment to end, the warmth of your skin to become a memory.
It all started with the simplest of touches, and it never truly ended. The spark you ignited that first night has never faded. Since the moment you met, it has burned brightly between you both, a light so powerful that it could be seen across the vastness of deep space. Everlasting and exquisite, just like the different lifetimes you both had ahead of you, always finding each other, as if guided by it’s warmth.
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thank you for your time and please let me know if you liked it!! i was thinking of writing more for this au, maybe from xavier’s perspective? how they met and how he fell in love + how their first night really played out ♡
#l&ds xavier#❀˖° mochi writes!#xavier smut#xavier x reader#xavier love and deepspace smut#love and deepspace xavier#lads#lads xavier#lnds xavier#xavier x reader smut#l&ds sylus#lads smut#love and deep space smut#love and deepspace fluff#xavier fluff#xavier x you#xavier x you smut#lads sylus#love and deepspace x you#lads xavier x reader#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader
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So because this is amazing and because I am hyperfocusing on Gravity Falls. Let me share a bit of Amelia's long-lost sister, Kelly Ness. Okay, they aren't sisters anymore, but still.
Kelly fell on the blue grass of a random dimension. She wasn't the type to keep note. The atmosphere was different, somehow safe and dangerous at the time. But again, she didn't particularly keep a note on things like that. Kelly just made a bee line to a mailbox inside either various stickers added to the tin. Mabels had a knack to give stickers to everything. But Kelly just gave them a cursory glance as her right eye gave her the info on each. Giving the coordinate to each stickers place of creation. She should make note of getting stickers for respectives Mabels. Sometimes, it was the only thing that could tell Kelly where to actually send the damm things. Eventually, she opened the mailbox with a specific key and looked through the letters. Some were boring ads that she threw around. No one needed those. Some were Stanfords incredible writings, making sure to say exactly who and where it should be sent. Other times, it was Stanley's doing letters of his own. They were often hard to send back. Mabels were also there. It was obvious with how much stickers and colors her letters had. She practically never had to read the content to know exactly where to go. A bit more, and she was wondering if Mabels just knew the mailbox wasn't actually magic. The rarest were of Dipper and McGucket. For whatever reason, these two either didn't bother make letters or weren't the type to fall in a portal. "Or maybe they both want to be left alone?"
She blinked, and her right eye started to smoke under the intense heat. Forcing Kelly to keel over and grip her eye as the letters floated around her. Smoke from her eye, holding onto them with annoyance. Through her right eye, she could always see something the one who spied. Well, what he saw, to be specific. A mirror was right in front of the demon. A man in his early 20s with brown curly hair broke through by antlers that seemed to either spill ink or petrol from every imperfection in the wood. His eyes were big, staring down the mirror for some kind of stability. Not to mention his long tail swiping at the air behind him. His clothes were still looking like a preacher from a school play. He looked incredibly annoyed. This was a very bad day. "Vulture, do I need to remind you not to insult the likes of me so blatantly."
Kelly wanted to scream that this was stupid, and she was allowed to ask questions. But she also knew better. Days like these, you needed to placate him. So Kelly still held the expression of pain and started to add a quiver to her voice. "I am sorry, I didn't mean for my words to cause harm. I was a fool to even think it in the first place."
The demon stared at his own reflection, closing his eyes too to be able to see her. He vaguely shook his head, making some his hair made of leaves fall to the bed surrounding him. "No, not a fool, just a bad day." He looked down at his hands and feet. His hands were now made of wood, and his feet were deer hooves. He hated this form with such wrath. But his eyes told that he knew better than to take her acting as proof. He didn't trust Bill anymore than she trusted him. He finally closed his eyes again.
Kelly sighed as the pain stopped. She breathed slowly and normally not to let the right eye see her weak. All the letters she had dropped were now safely in her hands, and she looked through them again. Filing them into various pockets in her messenger bag. Making sure she didn't put a letter for the wrong timeline or dimensions.
When she was finally done, she walked away until she could find a loophole in the dimension. Leaving it behind to give letters to family and friends.
This is Kelly Ness as a Mailman. They don't get uniforms because she is the only one.
My smol mini series about the drifting stars au is here!! Ft letters to Dipper!! May do more depending on the reception~
#gravity falls#gravity falls au#Kelly Ness (Mailman)#gacha life 2#drifting stars au#Blue=Pinetree Demon#BadDayBadEye#New Zodiac Signs Vulture for Heart Break.
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The GQ Couples Quiz
Pairing: Franco Colapinto x reader
Summary: Franco and his girlfriend takes the GQ Couples Quiz :)
Word count: 3.5k+
Warnings: tooth aching fluff, teasing, flirting
A/N:
English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, talks, vents, recommendations or just simple questions are always welcome.
Happy reading xxx
I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.
The sleek GQ studio was buzzing with quiet activity. The lights were warm but not overbearing, the cameras were perfectly positioned, and the iconic wooden table was set for the latest celebrity couple to take the famous GQ Couple Quiz.
You adjusted the hem of your cream-colored blazer and looked at Franco sitting beside you. He was impossibly handsome in a tailored shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his toned forearms.
Franco turned to you with a playful grin. “Okay, mi reina, are you ready? I’m about to prove I know you better than anyone.”
You smirked, leaning into him just slightly. “We’ll see about that. I don’t think you’re ready for the questions.”
Franco chuckled, his accent curling around his words, and you couldn’t help the warmth that spread through your chest. He reached out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear.
You could feel the excitement building between you two, and as the interviewer looked over, they gave a friendly smile.
"Alright, we’re ready to roll," the interviewer said, looking at both of you. "Whenever you're ready."
Franco turned to the camera with a confident grin. “Hi, I’m Franco Colapinto…”
“And I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” you finished, your smile just as warm. You exchanged a quick glance, knowing exactly where this was going.
“And today,” Franco continued, giving you a playful side-eye, “we’re taking GQ’s Couples Quiz.”
You chuckled, nodding in agreement. “We are. Let’s see how well we really know each other…”
The interviewer smiled at your easy chemistry. “I’m excited to see how this goes! Before we dive into the questions, though—how did you two meet? What’s the story behind your relationship?”
Franco smirked, leaning back in his chair slightly as he thought back to the moment. "Well, it wasn’t exactly love at first sight for me, but definitely... curiosity," he said, his Argentine accent giving the words a warm undertone. “We met a few years ago at a charity event. I was there for a sponsor dinner, and Y/N was the guest of honor.”
You smiled, turning to him with a playful look. “Yeah, I didn’t know who he was at first. He was just standing there, looking like he didn’t want to talk to anyone. I thought he was avoiding the crowd.”
Franco raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by your recounting. “I wasn’t avoiding anyone! I just don’t love big crowds, but when I saw her, I couldn’t take my eyes off her.”
You shook your head with a smile. “That’s because you were staring, Franco. Staring.”
He laughed, looking over at you. "Guilty as charged."
The interviewer chuckled, enjoying the playful dynamic between you two. "I love how much you two tease each other. But it’s clear there’s something special here. Alright, let’s get into the quiz!"
Franco squeezed your hand. “Ready to show off how well we know each other?”
You raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin tugging at your lips. “Oh, I’m ready. Let’s see if you remember the little details, Mr. Colapinto.”
He leaned in closer, his voice dropping low in that playful way you loved. “Trust me, cariño, I remember everything about you.”
You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Let’s hope so. Alright, hit us with the first question.”
Franco Colapinto and Y/N Y/L/N Take The GQ Couple Quiz
The interviewer set the tone. “Alright, let’s see how well this power couple knows each other. First question:
Who made the first move?
Franco immediately laughed, leaning back in his chair as if preparing for a defense. “It was me. No question.”
You rolled your eyes, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “It wasn’t as smooth as you’re making it sound, though.”
He feigned offense, pressing a hand to his chest. “Excuse me? I was very smooth.”
“Franco,” you said, turning toward him fully, your hand resting on his arm. “You tripped over a chair trying to get to me during the charity event.”
“That was part of the charm,” he quipped, leaning closer until your noses almost touched. “But I regret nothing. You were standing there, looking like a literal dream, and I thought, ‘If I don’t talk to her right now, someone else will.’”
You felt your cheeks warm as you remembered that night. “Well, it worked. The chair-tripping, the terrible Spanish pick-up line—”
“Terrible? It was romantic!” Franco interjected, laughing. “I said, ‘¿Eres un ángel, o acabo de soñar contigo?’”
You giggled, your hand slipping to his knee. “That’s so cheesy, but... I guess it was cute.”
“Cute enough to get me here,” he said, grinning, before leaning in and brushing a kiss to your cheek. “So I think I win this one.”
What’s Y/N’s favorite nickname Franco calls her?
You barely hesitated as you held up your card to show what you wrote : Mi reina.
Franco nodded, his hazel eyes softening as he wrote the same. “It’s my favorite, too. Because you really are my queen.”
You smiled, biting your lip as the warmth of his words settled over you. “I think it’s the way you say it,” you admitted. “It’s not just the nickname. It’s how you say it like I’m your entire world.”
“You are my world, mi vida,” he said, reaching for your hand. His thumb traced gentle circles over your skin, and his gaze locked with yours. “You’re everything to me.”
The moment lingered as if time itself had slowed, and for a second, the cameras and crew disappeared. It was just the two of you.
Who takes longer to get ready?
The interviewer smirked as the question was read aloud. “Okay, who’s the real diva in this relationship? Who takes longer to get ready?”
Franco didn’t even hesitate. “Her,” he said with a grin, pointing at you. “No competition.”
You gasped, your hand flying to your chest in mock offense. “Excuse me? I’m the diva? You’re the one who takes forever to pick the perfect pair of shoes. You’ve got, what, ten pairs of white sneakers?”
Franco laughed, leaning back in his chair. “I’m efficient. I pick a pair and I’m done in five minutes. You, on the other hand, spend twenty minutes deciding between two pairs of earrings.”
“Because I care about the details,” you shot back, flipping your card to reveal your answer: Me. “Fine, I’ll own it. But at least I have a reason.”
“And what’s that?” Franco asked, his tone playful as he leaned in closer, his hand sliding to your thigh.
You smirked. “I’m representing both of us. If I look bad, it reflects on you, too.”
Franco shook his head, a fond smile playing on his lips. “You could walk out in pajamas and still look like a goddess.”
“Smooth,” you teased, biting your lip to suppress a smile.
“Just honest,” he replied, brushing his lips against your ear. “Besides, I like when you wear my hoodie. It’s my favorite look.”
You burst out laughing, playfully shoving him. “Okay, stop before you make me blush on camera.”
“Too late,” he said, grinning as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.
What’s Franco’s most overused phrase?
The interviewer grinned. “What’s the one phrase Franco says so much that you could finish his sentences for him?”
You didn’t even have to think. “Easy. Todo bien.” You flipped your card, smirking as Franco revealed his matching answer.
“Okay, okay, guilty,” Franco admitted, laughing as he ran a hand through his hair. “But it works for everything. You ask me how my day is? Todo bien. If something goes wrong in the car? Todo bien. It’s versatile!”
“It’s lazy,” you teased, nudging him with your elbow. “It’s like your default setting.”
Franco grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “But you love it.”
You rolled your eyes dramatically. “I tolerate it.”
“Liar,” he said, his voice dropping a notch as he leaned closer, his tone warm and teasing. “You told me once that you love how calm I am. That I’m steady. Remember?”
Your cheeks flushed, and you couldn’t help the soft smile that crept onto your lips. “Yeah, okay, fine. I love it because it’s you. And because it means you don’t let things get to you.”
Franco’s gaze softened as he reached for your hand. “And because I’ve got you, mi reina. As long as we’re together, it’s always todo bien.”
What’s Y/N’s guilty pleasure?
Franco smirked, his hazel eyes lighting up with mischief as he wrote his answer. “Oh, this one is good.”
You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. “Don’t you dare.”
He flipped his card with a flourish: Reality TV.
You groaned, burying your face in your hands as the crew laughed. “Why do you insist on exposing me like this?”
Franco was practically glowing with amusement. “Because it’s hilarious! I’ll walk into the living room, and you’re sitting there, yelling at people on The Bachelor like they can actually hear you.”
“Franco!” you cried, smacking his arm as your cheeks burned. “You promised not to bring that up.”
“I lied,” he said, grinning unabashedly. “But it’s adorable. You get so into it, like your whole life depends on whether some random guy picks the right girl.”
“It’s called emotional investment,” you argued, crossing your arms. “You should try it sometime.”
“Oh, I’m emotionally invested, alright,” he teased, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “But not in some reality show. Just in you.”
Your faux indignation melted away as he leaned closer, his hand brushing yours. “You’re so lucky you’re cute,” you muttered, a smile tugging at your lips.
“And you’re lucky I find your reality TV obsession charming,” he shot back, his tone filled with affection.
Who’s more competitive?
This question made you both laugh out loud. You scribbled quickly, holding up your card at the same time as Franco. Both read: Franco.
“Obviously,” you teased, pointing at him. “He can’t help himself. He races cars for a living! He even makes game nights at home a bloodsport.”
Franco raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Hold on, let’s not forget how you turned Uno into a tactical war.”
You gasped in mock offense. “Excuse me, I was defending myself! You were the one gloating.”
“I’m a Gemini,” he said simply, as if that explained everything. “But seriously, I think competition makes things more fun. It keeps us sharp.”
“And gives you an excuse to win,” you teased, leaning closer until your shoulder bumped his.
Franco laughed, his hand sliding around your waist. “Maybe. But only because I like impressing you.”
What’s Franco’s hidden talent?
You tapped your pen against the table, glancing at Franco with a knowing smile. “This one’s easy,” you said, scribbling on your card. You flipped it over for the camera: Tango dancing.
Franco’s eyes widened, and his cheeks flushed a faint pink. “You’re really going to expose me like that?”
“Absolutely,” you replied with a grin, nudging him. “How could I not? You’re incredible at it.”
Franco shook his head, laughing softly. “It’s not a big deal. It’s just something I like to do back home. Everyone learns.”
“Oh, no, no,” you interrupted, leaning closer to him. “You’re not getting away with that. When I saw you tango for the first time, I swear I forgot how to breathe.”
Franco chuckled, turning to the interviewer. “She’s exaggerating. But yeah, growing up, my abuela loved tango. She taught me and my cousins. She’d play Carlos Gardel records, and we’d have little competitions in her living room.”
Your expression softened as you listened. “I think it’s one of the most beautiful things about you—how connected you are to your culture.”
He looked at you, his hazel eyes warm. “Well, if you love it so much, why don’t we show them?”
Your jaw dropped. “Right now? Here? Are you crazy? Absolutely not!”
The crew laughed, while you fanned yourself with the cards since it stared to become warmer and warmer and Franco sighed to the camera.
“Well, you can’t blame a guy for trying, no?”
Who’s more likely to cry during a movie?
You groaned the moment the question was read. “Oh, come on. We all know the answer to this.”
Franco raised a brow, a teasing smile spreading across his face. “Do we? Let’s see if you admit it.”
You both wrote your answers and revealed them at the same time. Both cards read: Y/N.
Franco laughed, throwing his head back. “I mean, it’s true. You cry at everything.”
“C’mon, now you’re just exaggerating!” you protested, though the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed you.
Franco leaned forward, resting his elbow on the table as he looked at you. “Mi amor, you cried during a dog food commercial last week. Dog food.”
“It was sad!” you defended, crossing your arms. “The dog grew old, and they were playing that emotional piano music…”
Franco reached over, pulling you into his side as he kissed the top of your head. “And I love that about you. It’s one of my favorite things. You feel everything so deeply, and it’s beautiful.”
You looked up at him, your eyes narrowing playfully. “You’re just saying that because you like comforting me.”
“True,” he admitted, grinning. “But it’s also because it’s you. And if you cry, I’ll always be there to kiss the tears away.”
What’s Franco’s favorite childhood memory?
Franco’s smile turned wistful as he wrote his answer. He flipped the card: Sunday asados with my family.
You smiled, nodding. “I knew you’d say that. You talk about them all the time.”
He leaned back in his chair, his gaze distant as he thought back. “Every Sunday, my entire family would gather at my abuela’s house. There’d be cousins running around, fútbol matches in the yard, and my tío would be at the grill, making the best asado you could imagine. The smell of the meat, the sound of everyone laughing… it was perfect.”
You reached out, placing your hand over his. “That’s why you always want to recreate it, isn’t it? Even here.”
He nodded, his smile bittersweet. “Yeah. It’s not the same without everyone, but it helps me feel close to home.”
What’s Y/N’s dream role?
Franco watched you intently as you wrote your answer, his expression already filled with pride. You held up your card: A biopic.
Franco grinned. “Of course. You’ve talked about this so many times. You want to play someone real, someone with a story that matters.”
You nodded, your voice growing thoughtful. “I think acting is about connecting with people. Telling their truths. And there’s something so powerful about stepping into someone else’s shoes, especially when their story needs to be heard.”
Franco reached for your hand, his grip firm but gentle. “And you’d be amazing at it. I’ve seen how much heart you put into everything you do.”
You smiled at him, your chest tightening with emotion. “You’re my biggest cheerleader, you know that?”
“Always,” he said softly. “Because I believe in you, mi reina. More than anyone.”
Who’s the bigger flirt?
You both burst into laughter before the question was even finished. Franco raised a brow. “Be honest.”
“Oh, I’m being honest,” you said, flipping your card: Franco.
He feigned shock. “What? Me? How?”
“It’s the accent,” you teased, smirking. “Everything you say sounds flirty.”
Franco leaned closer, his hand brushing your thigh under the table. “Only for you, mi amor.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “See? That’s exactly what I mean.”
Franco grinned, brushing his lips against your temple. “What can I say? I can’t help myself. You bring it out of me.”
What’s Franco’s pre-race ritual?
Your card was ready in seconds: His lucky wristband. Franco revealed the same answer with a smile.
“I know it’s not an actual ritual but you do always make sure you wear it before a race,” you said, glancing at the worn fabric around his wrist.
Franco nodded, his gaze tender. “You gave it to me before my first big race. You said it would keep me safe.”
“And it has,” you added softly, your voice trembling slightly. “Every time you’re out there, I know you’ve got a piece of me with you.”
Franco reached for your hand, his thumb tracing your knuckles. “It’s more than a piece of you. It’s everything. It reminds me why I do this. For us.”
How do you see your future together?
The room grew quieter as the final question sank in. Franco turned to you, his hazel eyes filled with an intensity that made your heart ache. He took a deep breath, then wrote: Together, always.
You revealed a similar answer, and your lips trembled as you tried to speak. “That’s all I want.”
Franco took your hands, pulling you closer. “I see us traveling the world, chasing dreams, and building a life full of love. One day, we’ll have a home in Argentina. A big one, with space for our kids to run around.”
Your eyes filled with tears as he spoke. “Franco…”
“You’re my forever,” he said softly, brushing a tear from your cheek. “No matter where we are, as long as we’re together, it’ll be perfect.”
You leaned into him, and he kissed you, sealing the promise with a tenderness that left everyone in the in awe.
The interviewer smiled, clearly enjoying the chemistry between you two. “Well, that’s a wrap on the quiz. I have to say, you two are absolutely adorable together. Thank you for being so open and playful with your answers.”
You both leaned back in your chairs, your hearts still racing from the last round of questions. You flashed the interviewer a smile. “Thank you for having us. This was actually a lot of fun.”
Franco gave you a teasing side-eye. “See? I told you we’d survive it. I think we make a pretty good team.”
“Oh, really?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “Is that what you think?”
Franco shot you a wink, clearly enjoying your playful back-and-forth. “Absolutely. No one else could have pulled this off like we did.”
You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips as you reached over to grab his hand. “Well, you might be right about that. You’re kind of a master at the whole ‘effortlessly cool’ thing. I’ll give you that.”
He squeezed your hand, his tone suddenly more sincere. “You know, I couldn’t have done this without you. You make everything better, reina.”
The interviewer chuckled softly, glancing at the two of you. “It’s clear you’ve got something special. I think I’m starting to understand why you two are always the talk of the town. And don’t get me started on those looks you exchange—it’s like there’s a secret language between you.”
You both laughed, your hearts full as Franco’s thumb traced lazy circles over your wrist. “Well,” you said, your voice softer now, “we’ve got a pretty strong connection. We’ve been through a lot together, and at the end of the day, we just… get each other.”
Franco nodded, his expression tender. “Yeah. It’s not just the fun moments. It’s the real stuff too. You’re my rock, and you make me better in ways I didn’t even know I needed.”
You leaned in slightly, your voice barely above a whisper. “You do the same for me, Franco. I think we’re kind of perfect for each other.”
The interviewer, clearly moved by the genuine tenderness between you two, smiled warmly. “Well, it looks like you two have found something truly special. It’s rare to see such real, authentic love, especially in the spotlight. You’re both lucky.”
You nodded, squeezing Franco’s hand. “We really are.”
Franco turned his head, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Lucky, but also the happiest I’ve ever been. You’re my everything, and this little quiz was just one of many more moments to come.”
You chuckled, feeling a blush rise in your cheeks. “Well, don’t get too carried away. You still have to deal with me picking out my earrings for the next hour.”
He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. “I’ll happily wait as long as it takes, mi reina.”
The interviewer laughed, clearly enchanted by the chemistry between you. “Alright, alright, you two are officially making me swoon. But seriously, thank you both for being such great sports. This was a blast.”
As the cameras shut off and the crew started to pack up, you and Franco shared a quiet moment, basking in the intimacy of the space you’d created between the two of you. You looked at him with a soft smile, feeling incredibly lucky to share such a love that felt both deep and lighthearted.
“I’m glad we did this,” you murmured.
Franco pulled you closer, his lips brushing against your forehead. “I’ll always do anything that makes you happy. And I love seeing you laugh.”
You leaned into him, your fingers lightly playing with his shirt sleeve. “We’re a great team, huh?”
“The best,” he said, his voice low and affectionate. He looked at you, his eyes full of sincerity. “Always.”
#fluff#franco colapinto#franco colapinto x reader#franco colapinto x you#franco colapinto imagine#franco colapinto fluff#franco colapinto fanfic#formula one fic#formula 1#formula one#f1 drivers#f1 imagine#chris evans x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 one shot#f1 imagines#f1 x reader#f1#fc43 x reader#fc43 imagine#fc43 fic#fc43 x you
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Say It
ఌpaige bueckers x reader
warnings: 18+, smut, ovulation went crazy this month😭, basically no plot...like at all
inspired by - say it by ne-yo
---------☙
"Paige please..."
The only two words your brain could fathom right now, and you were lucky they made a sentence. She was the reason why.
"Please what baby?" She asked, but she knew the answer. She always knew what you wanted. She could tell from the way your body pushed itself closer to her hand. From the way your jaw fell open just from her light touches. From how soaked you were. Paige was fluent in the language your body spoke. Yet, she still didn't give it what it wanted needed.
"Come on now, I can't give you what you want unless you tell me what it is? I'm not a mind reader, baby." She insisted. That was a lie. Partially, anyway. She could read you in every way. Her hand traveled familiar paths down your hot skin. One of her hands traced careful circles on your thigh as the other was pressed into the bed, right beside your head. "Here? Is here good?" She pressed when you whined as her hand grazed over your wet lips.
"Baby-"
"Or here? Hm?" She cut you off, her fingers sinking between your lips to graze your clit. Just as fast as they were there, they left. A frustrated whine left your lips once again. "Come on baby, it's a simple question. Where do you want me?"
"Paige just-" You couldn't complete the sentence, but you could lead her hand down to where you wanted her. She tutted, pulling her wrist away from your hold.
"Now you know better." She scolded, but there was no real bite in her words. "Come on baby, just say it. All that running your mouth earlier and now you can't use your words? Say it baby, tell me what you want so I can give it to you. Can't be that hard." She teased, a cocky smile coming across her face as she watched you struggle every time her fingers brushed against your clit.
"Paige please. Need you so bad, P."
"Mhm, keep going. Tell me where." She encouraged, finally giving in and rubbing your that perfect button between your soaked lips.
"E- everywhere. Need your fingers inside, need your mouth on me. Please Paige- oh-" You were cut off by her finally giving you what you needed. Two of her fingers finally slipped into you with ease.
“That’s my good girl, finally using your mouth for something good.” She said with a proud smile. You moaned, gripping tight onto her shoulder as she smoothly got into a rhythm. “I’ma give you what you want but you gotta keep being vocal for me, ‘kay?”
“Mkay.” You panted out. You would do anything she wanted as long as she stopped talking and put her mouth where you needed it. Paige pressed a sweet kiss to your temple, continuing to press wet, open mouth kisses down the rest of your body until she reached between your thighs.
“I need to hear you from down here, baby. Let your moans be loud as your disrespect was earlier and keep your eyes on me.” She ordered, and you knew the underlying promise she hadn’t said. If you don’t listen, she’ll stop. So, you nodded in agreeance, your hand finding the back of her head as a silent urge. Paige laughed at your impatience, her free hand rubbing your thigh comfortingly as her fingers kept up her place. She press a swift kiss to your clit before taking between her lips,, sucking hard.
“Paige!” You cried out. Already, she almost had you throwing your head back as you let out a loud moan, finally receiving some relief. Paige kept up her pace with her fingers, flicking your clit with her tongue. Her first two fingers curled against your spot deliciously before she added a third, grazing that same spot again. “Oh fuck- right there, baby.” You said, as if she didn’t already know.
Paige sped her fingers up as her tongue circled around your pink clit before taking it into her mouth once again, never breaking eye contact.
“Oh goddd, Paige…” You whined. Though you hoped there was no god watching how Paige devoured your pussy right now. Your fingers gripped her hair harder as her fingers began to thrust harder, her eyebrows furrowing as she focused on you and your pleasure. She moaned into you, feeling the way you tugged on her blonde hair, as if she could get any closer. Just as you were about to reach that peak, just as your aching hole clenched around Paige’s fingers, she pulled her mouth away.
“Say it, tell me what you need, baby.” She said, waiting for you to follow through as her fingers kept moving. She watched with a smile as your mouth opened and close, being patient for the words to fall from your pretty lips. All that came was another moan.
“I know baby, I know. But you gotta tell me, show me how sorry you are for how you spoke earlier. Use your words now, pretty thing.” Paige tried to comfort, but her voice was only making it worse. She still was patient with you, her fingers keeping you right on edge. She knew you needed her mouth to finish you off.
“Need to cum, please Paige, please…”
“Mhm, that’s it baby.” She praised proudly, pressing a soft kiss right below your belly button before she removed her fingers only to be replaced by her tongue. Her tongue moved in and out quickly while her soaked digits rubbed your clit just as rapidly as her tongue fucked you.
“Oh shit-” Your back arched up off the bed, head thrown back as a high pitched moan left your throat that you knew Paige would mock you for later. Your body tensed, overwhelmed by the sudden change of pace before you came, making a mess on Paige’s tongue that she was happy to clean up.
Your legs spasmed around Paige’s head as she tenderly licked up the creamy essence that your pussy couldn’t seem to stop from exiting your body. Your now empty hole clenched around nothing as Paige pressed a final kiss to your clit before leaving to go get something to clean you up. You panted, trying to allow your body to come down from its high.
You were drifting off when Paige returned, only to receive a slap to your thigh that woke you right up. You look at her, confused until your eyes wander down to find the false dick attached to her hips. She smirks at the confused look on your face.
"Not you thinking we was done. Nah, turn that ass over."
"But Paige-"
"What'd I say?" She interrupted your protest, grabbing your hips and pulling down closer to the edge of the bed. “I said keep your eyes on me, and even though you look so fucking sexy when you throw your head back while you cum for me, that’s breaking eye contact baby. And contrary to what some may say, I’m a woman of my word. So we’re not done.”
“Paige, I don’t know if I can do anymore.” You admitted. The blonde haired made a noise that sounded like a scoff in response to your words. She shook her head at you, her hands traveling up and down your trembling thighs carefully.
“Come on now, you’ve done much more than this before. If you really don’t think you can, you know what to say, but I think you better tell your pussy that.” She tempted, her hand wandering to your aching cunt just to drag her thumb up and down your sopping lips. “She’s so ready for me, I know you can take more. Plus I think I deserve it after how you treated me earlier, hm?” Paige egged on, her fingers still mindlessly teasing you as her blue eyes bored into yours.
She was right too, you did kind of feel bad for the things you had said earlier. You were already thinking of ways to make it up to her but this was not on the list. Though, feeling the way her thumb began to rub your clit slowly, the way your body was reacting to her touch, you couldn’t help but to agree to go another round.
Paige smiled, her hand still making a mess of your pussy as she leaned down to give your soft lips a delicate kiss. You could still taste yourself on her tongue from when she had just made you cum before.
Paige pulled away just as she felt herself getting too deep into the kiss, a wet string of spit still connecting the two of you before you leaned up to get one last peck in. She finally pulled her hand away from your lower lips with a wet tap, bringing her thumb up to suck your juices off as she waited for you to turn around.
“Yeah, perfect like that, pretty girl.” The athlete complimented, pushing her palm into your back to make your arch a little bit deeper once you got on all fours. “Just like that…” she muttered to herself staring at your round ass. You already has a good body when you’d first met her, but she’d like to think the growth in your glutes was due to her, and not just because she’s been making you work out with her.
Paige gave your ass a quick tap, watching it move before she spread you for her, leaning down to spit on your pussy. Though, it wasn’t like it needed anymore lubricant. She spit on the 7-inch shaft as well, using her hand to get it nice and wet for you. With that, she leaned down to press a swift kiss to the side of your neck, one hand gripping your hip while the other guided the purple dick inside of you.
You both groaned out at the entrance. You because of the feeling, and her because she was enjoying watching the length disappear between your soaked lips.
“Fuck.” She let the curse tumble from her lips with ease. Once the length had completely disappeared, she let go of the base of the cock, instead, letting that hand travel up to grip your shoulder. She gave you one testing thrust to get used to the intrusion before her thrust became harsher. Her pace was fast, not wasting a second before picking up speed.
Paige bit her lip, watching the way your as recoiled against her hips before giving into temptation and giving it a hard smack. That plus her constant thrusts almost caused you to lose balance, but Paige was quick to fix you up.
“Nuh uh, keep that arch how I like it.” She scolded. It seemed like she was only getting rougher as the grip on your hip tightened and she began pulling your hips back to meet her thrusts.
“Oh fuck, Paige-” You moaned out. Loud clapping sound around the room as you gripped the sheets beneath you.
“Huh? You wanted to say something, baby?” She asked, breathing heavily as she waited for you to reply. She tsked when nothing but moans fell from your lips. “Damn baby, I know it feels good but I asked you something.” Paige said, her caring tone contrasting with the way her hips met your ass harshly. She swiftly swooped your hair into makeshift ponytail, pulling you up so her lips were next to your ear. “Since you can’t think of what to say right now, I’ma tell you. Say you’re sorry. Say you’re sorry for how you spoke to me earlier, you’re sorry for you’re nasty ass attitude. Cause, you are, right baby? You sorry?”
You nodded as much as you could with her tight grip on your hair, a whine falling from your lips once again. Paige chuckled, licking up your neck before sucking a hickey into your skin, right behind your ear.
“Say that shit then. Tell me you’re sorry.”
“I’m sorry Paige. So sorry, oh fuck- didn’t mean it baby. Just missed you so oh-“ You gasped as Paige made a particularly hard thrust rub right up against your spot. “Shit Paige…”
“Yeah, I know pretty girl.” Paige said, finally releasing your hair from her grip. Only for her to push your head down into the pillow, her other hand still squeezing your hip. “I’ll accept your apology, just need you to cum for me baby.”
Paige kept aiming for that same spot, getting it everytime. Your moans were getting louder and louder with every thrust, almost overpowering the sound of applause in the room. You were right on edge, clenching your eyes tight as your body began to tremble against the mattress in a way only Paige could make it shake. Your hole clenched so tight around Paige’s cock that it made it hard for her to continue at her pace, but she kept on. Thank god you married an athlete.
“Come on baby, show me how sorry you are. Give it to me.” Just as she finished her sentence, her hand reach around to rub your clit, her fingers quickly matching her thrusts pace. That combined with the sound of her voice, plus the way that her dick kept brushing so perfectly against your spot had you falling apart just for her. “Oh yeah, just like that baby.” She praised as you came, her hand not slowing down as she watched you squirt all over her hand as pussy pushed her out along with your cum.
With shaky legs, you collapsed. Panting tired from the intensity of it all. You felt, Paige's cool hands gently rubbing on your hot skin, attempting to calm you down. Once your breath leveled out, she turned you to lay in your back once again.
"You okay?" She asked, hands running over your hips. You nodded, your heavy eyelids causing Paige to smile faintly. Your hands found hers and you intertwined them as she leaned down to peck your lips.
"I'm sorry." You whispered against skin, already trying to regain your strength to show just how sorry you were.
"I know." She whispered back with a smile.
#paige bueckers x reader#paige bueckers#paige buckets#paige bueckers fic#uconn huskies#uconn wcbb#wcbb#wlw fanfic#wlw post#paige x reader#paige x fem reader#uconn wbb#uconn women’s basketball#wcbb x reader#wbb x reader#ncaa wbb
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I Hate It Here
Kang Dae-ho x Reader After joining a mysterious game of life and death, you find solace in the company of another player, one so vibrant and optimistic it draws your mind from the horrors that await you. fem!reader, fluff, usual content warnings for Squid Game, guns, language, death etc, obvious spoilers for Squid Game season 2, mostly edited, not perfectly accurate to the episodes but close enough 5k words Hi all! If anyone else is like me, I've fallen down the rabbit hole of Squid Game since watching season two, and wrote this piece on my fav this season! I still have a poll up on my page for what other characters I should write about (accidentally set it to a week rather than a day oops), so if you have any other requests, drop a vote there, and specific suggestions in my comments or asks if you have any. This also happens to be the longest fluff piece I've ever written, so I hope its ok! Will add another chapter if people like. Enjoy <3 TTPD Contents | General Masterlist | AO3
You hadn’t even considered that the weird guy who started shouting before the first game started would be telling the truth. That you could actually die here for money, or for entertainment, or for whatever the twisted fuckers who brought you here wanted. You figured he was just vying for attention, or trying to scare you all into backing out. Then you heard a gunshot.
After that moment, you followed every piece of advice he shouted out, satisfied he knew something you didn’t. You made it over the finish line, shocked and traumatised, thanks only to hiding behind someone a lot taller than you. You immediately collapsed on the dirt panting with exhaustion, a few tears falling from your eyes. What had you gotten yourself into?
You were relieved when Player 456 called for a vote to end the games, and even more relieved at the realisation that his number was only a little after your own. He was called to vote first, red X marking his jersey, and you followed suit just after him, lucky as Player 452 that you could get your voting over and done with quickly. He smiled at you, bowing his head slightly in acknowledgment, and you returned the favour, moving to stand beside him. You quietly celebrated with him when a player chose your side, and you watched as he tried to talk to the remaining people, explaining how he’d played before. Then you consoled him when it didn’t work. It came down to the last vote, the stress almost too much to bear, but as Player 001 was adorned in blue light from his selection, you realised you were stuck here, and you were close to crying again.
Player 456 automatically took you under his wing. There seemed to be another player that he knew, so you sat with them as you ate the provided food, dejected at the outcome, but grateful to at least have found some allies. You were trying to ask a few subtle questions about the game, but other players kept approaching your group. You shrunk back a little, avoiding the attention that came with being around the previous winner of the games, listening as people spoke of their admiration for him, and grilled him for information as to what was happening next.
You hadn’t noticed at first - a voice speaking from behind you - and honestly, you didn’t want to turn around, still feeling shy and awkward. Eventually, though, the crowd dissipated, and the source of the voice jumped down from one of the bunks. He was tall and lean, shoulder length hair pulled into a half-up half-down style, strays falling around his temples and framing his face. His smile was infectious, carrying from his lips to his eyes, which were rich brown in colour and full of joy and enthusiasm. You were transfixed by him as he introduced himself as Kang Dae-ho, quickly bonding with the man Player 456 knew thanks to their shared military history. He was the antithesis of you - so outgoing, so enthusiastic, so full of optimism. Even down to the blue circle that adorned his uniform; on most, it was a bad look, voting to continue at the risk of others, but on him, it seemed courageous.
His chattiness was as contagious as his smile, and as he joined your group to eat, you found yourself immersed in conversation with him: about the game, about the other players, about the members of your little makeshift crew. Even watching on and cheering together as Player 001 took down a few bullies in front of everyone. He was comfortable to be around. A welcome distraction that helped you forget where you were, or what you might have to do as the days passed.
And it was working. Until, after a while, the conversation lulled momentarily, and you couldn’t stop your mind from drifting to darker places. What the game might be. What it would involve. If it would ever really get as brutal as Gi-hun said it might…
You felt a gentle nudge on your arm, snapping you out of your spell at the sound of your name falling from Dae-ho’s lips.
“You good?” He muttered quietly, a hint of concern on his face. You had been talking for a few hours now, and you had done everything in your power to keep up your positive front, to pretend you were happy to be here but it was fading fast.
“Yeah, I’m just…”
“Scared?” A sigh of relief fell from your lips.
“Yeah.” He smiled softly, glancing around to see where the others were, before leaning in closer.
“Me too, honestly. Just trying not to show it…” There was a sincerity in his voice, a vulnerability that you could tell wasn’t fake. He wasn’t just saying it to make you feel better.
“Dae-ho…” you muttered, gesturing to the blue badge that signified his vote, “why did you choose to stay?” He shrugged, glancing back at the crowd of people who were starting to prepare for lights out.
“I need the money, and honestly, when I voted, I didn’t know anyone here. I figured it’s not like I’m personally killing anyone. No harm no foul, right? It’s just the way a soldier thinks, I guess. You don’t know who you’re shooting, just that they’re in the way of your victory. But now…” he paused a beat, his eyes darting over to where Jung-bae and Gi-hun were sitting, deep in conversation, before landing on you, eyes scanning your face with a curious intensity. “I’ll do everything to keep my team alive.” You couldn’t help but laugh coldly. The sentiment was sweet, sure, but there were no guarantees.
“From what Gi-hun told us, it might not be a team game. It could be something completely out of our control…”
“I’m hopeful!” He exclaimed, the optimistic, puppy-like demeanour back as he grinned at you.
“I’m glad someone is.” The intercom informed you that it was 10 minutes until lights out, and you couldn’t help but let out a shuddering breath. You weren’t looking forward to that - trying to sleep in a dark room filled with hundreds of people you didn’t know. Desperate people.
“Let’s find our beds for the night?” Dae-ho prompted, standing and offering his hand to help you up. You took it, smiling at him thankfully and glancing around for the other members of your team, palm feeling cold when his touch left it. “Look, there are two next to each other just above where Gi-hun has set his things down. We can bunk close together so you know you’re safe. I’m a light sleeper!’ His constant proactivity in making you feel safe and comfortable was warming your heart, but simultaneously causing a bout of nausea and anxiety that rose from your gut. One of you might die tomorrow in these twisted games. He would betray you in a heartbeat to keep himself alive, regardless of his sentiments. And despite that, you're already starting to trust him.
He was right though; he was a light sleeper. A few hours in and you hadn’t slept at all yet, fear clouding every corner of your mind, and the only thing soothing you was the soft purr of his snores. Eventually, you couldn’t help but sit upright, a quiet but frustrated sigh escaping your lips as your hands ran across your face and through your hair. His voice muttered your name, and you glanced over in shock to see him slowly sitting up in his bed, his tired eyes raking over you with concern.
“What’s wrong? Are you ok?” You pulled your legs to your chest, nodding at him before resting your head onto your knees.
“Can’t sleep.” You muttered as a sorry excuse of an explanation, but it seemed to convey what you really meant, his head cocked in worry.
“Can I help at all?” You opened your mouth to reply, to tell him that you'd be ok, but he continued before you had a chance. “Maybe you should try falling asleep before me. I’m going to be awake for a while now anyway, I can keep watch.” You were going to protest, to tell him to rest up and keep his energy for tomorrow, but honestly… it might help you. Just knowing he was keeping an eye out could get you a few hours of rest at least.
“…would that be ok?” You asked timidly, but he nodded with his now signature enthusiasm.
“Of course! I told you I’d protect you, I’m keeping my end of the bargain.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. Please, just get comfortable.” Your body instinctively laid down as close to him as possible, only the bars between the bunks separating you, curling up on the small bed and settling in. You closed your eyes, exhausted beyond belief, but the moment you did, panic overtook you. It was irrational, sure, but before, when you couldn’t see him, you could hear him snoring so you knew he was still there. Now, it was dead silent. Your arm reached forwards instinctively, avoiding the metal posts to meet the soft fabric of his uniform, fingers latching on securely. You blushed at your own response to fear, grateful to the dark surrounding you, but as you felt him shuffle closer, allowing you a firmer grip, all of your nerves dissipated, your body finally giving in to exhaustion.
You woke to loud classical music and the intercom announcing that the next game will be starting shortly. You blinked your eyes open, groaning already at the aches forming in your body and the speed of your heartbeat at the thought of the horrors today might bring. But then, you felt a hand softly close around your forearm, giving a gentle squeeze of encouragement. You glanced down to see where your hand was still clasped around the edge of his T-shirt, the back of your fingers grazing the warm skin of his stomach, his own arm draped atop yours from where he lay on your side. You blushed furiously, untangling your arm from his and sitting up as casually as you could manage, rubbing the back of your neck in an attempt to hide your red cheeks.
“Hey…” he muttered sleepily, shifting to sit up too, and your body automatically turned to him, as though after just a few hours of knowing him, you were programmed to seek his voice out and follow it. “Remember what I said, ok? Stick by me today. If it’s Dalgona like Gi-hun said, pick triangle, and if not, we’ll work it out.” You couldn’t do much but nod, nerves and fear clouding your senses. You just focussed on putting one foot in front of the other, climbing out of bed and lining up with the rest of the players in the centre of the room. When the guards starting walking, you followed wordlessly until you reached the game room, the only thing keeping you from breaking down was the knowledge that Dae-ho was right behind you.
Gi-hun’s confused expression when you entered the room confirmed everything you needed to know - you wouldn’t be playing Dalgona today. However, Dae-ho’s optimism from the day before was well-placed, as the speakers announced that players should arrange themselves into teams of five. It was an easy pick. At some point during the night or morning, Gi-hun had reconciled with Player 001, and he honestly seemed like a solid addition to the team. He had physical skill - you’d seen that during the fight - and he had a seriousness about him that made you feel confident.
They announced the games, and your heart dropped. As the only girl on the team, you knew they’d ask you to play gonggi, and it just wasn’t something you’d played. As the inevitable question came, you shook your head in shame.
“I’m sorry, I never had anyone to teach it to me.” Your heart broke at the disappointment on your teammates faces.
“I can play gonggi.” Dae-ho piped up from beside you, and you breathed out in relief.
“An ex-marine playing gonggi?” You heard Jung-bae pipe up, and you couldn’t help but frown at his comment. You could immediately hear the pride drain from Dae-ho’s voice as he replied, and you glared at the older man, hoping to quietly convey your disappointment in him.
“I have four older sisters, so I played with them sometimes.” Jung-bae started to backtrack and encourage him, but you couldn’t help but think about why Dae-ho felt like he had to defend himself. It was such an endearing trait - a softer side that you valued and trusted in an ally - and yet he was explaining why it was ok to be good at a kid’s game. It made you feel sad for him. You interrupted Jung-bae’s forced sentiment slightly harshly.
“I’m good at flying stone. I used to bet the boys in my class that I could beat them and won every time.” Jung-bae looked as though he was going to say something, but Dae-ho spoke up first with a wide smile that calmed your nerves.
“Perfect! We’re lucky to have an expert with us. What about the rest of you?”
The rest of the team decided their roles quickly, Jung-bae sarcastically stating if he couldn’t play flying stone like he wanted, ddakji was his next best choice. You just shrugged. Gi-hun settled on jegi, and Player 001 seemed happy with what was left to him, so now, all you had to do was wait.
The first race was awful. It felt like a car crash you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from as the second player in their team missed in flying stone over and over and over again. Your team were discussing strategies based on how they were doing, how missing the stone eats up time as you have to fetch it, but you just felt a lump form in the back of your throat. If you failed this, all of you would die. The timer hit zero as he finally struck the stone, and you ripped your eyes away just in time, covering your ears and staring at the floor as the sound of gunshots ricocheted throughout the room. You eventually opened your eyes as the pink guards carried large gift boxes into the room that you could only assume were coffins for the dead, and turned to glance at Dae-ho in horror. He wasn't looking at his surroundings, practicing his part of the game with some small stones, but there was a noticeable shake in his hands that hadn’t been there before.
It was hours before it was your turn, and you were already exhausted before even playing. Watching everyone else, being so invested in each and every person’s survival, constantly thinking about how you could improve on their methods for their own attempt - it had taken its toll. And now, it was finally time for you to do it. You looped your arms around Jung-bae’s and Dae-ho’s, ankles already bound together, and he gave you one last smile of encouragement before you set off. You moved in accordance to Gi-hun’s shouts, reaching the ddakji station before you knew it. It only took two attempts and it flipped, the excitement of your group palpable as you continued to the next game. Your turn.
Your hands were shaking as you took the stone from the guard, almost so much that you dropped the damn thing. You tried to breathe deeply, to calm yourself down, but your mind wouldn’t stop returning to that first race, to the player who missed over and over…
Warm hands surrounded your own, snapping you out of your thoughts and grounding you. Dae-ho spoke, and you looked up at him, fear etched into your features.
“Breathe. Remember how you used to do it. You’re just on the playground winning a bet. Steady your hands, breathe, and throw.” You nodded along as he spoke, breaths returning to normal just long enough to compose yourself, crouching slightly. Like a skipping stone. As it left your hand, you cursed quietly. You were worried that it was too high, not quite the right angle, but by some miracle, it caught the top of the stone, toppling it just with the lightest touch. You could’ve cried as the Circle guard raised his hands above his head to mimic the shape on his mask, relieved that you wouldn’t be at fault if your team didn’t make it.
Dae-ho’s arm was like a vice as you made your way to the next game, his own nerves now evident. He gathered the gonggi in his hand, feeling the weight of them, and you and Player 001 leant slightly away from him to give him the space he needed. Jung-bae started to speak, throwing some generic words of encouragement his way, but you shushed him quickly. He’d told you earlier that he concentrated better when it was silent, so you intended to make sure that he had the conditions he needed. You watched as he let out a breath in preparation, then began, moving with speed and accuracy that left you in awe. As he held out his fist to the guard, and they approved, you couldn’t help but quickly wrap your arm around him, a short celebration before moving to the next section.
It took Player 001 a long time to complete the Spinning Top. You couldn’t help but flinch every time he failed, glancing up at the time in worry as he cursed himself out over and over. Gi-hun set him straight, calming him down quickly and reminding him of everything at risk, and he finally succeeded. The last portion of the race passed in a blur of seconds, Gi-hun quickly completing Jegi with the help of Player 001 before stumbling over the finish line, unexpected tears falling from your eyes in relief. You had actually made it, all of you had…
Gunshots rung out in the room, and you screamed, instinctively ducking down, your hands flying to your ears. It wasn’t until your heartbeat returned to normal and the guards started to unlock your ankle restraints that you realised Dae-ho had wrapped himself around you, one arm pulling your face into his chest, your head nestled tightly in his hand and folding the rest of himself around you. You tried to move, legs now free, but he wasn’t budging. You could feel his heart hammering against his chest, breaths shaky as they fanned against your neck. You pulled your hands from your ears, pressing them to his chest and gently easing him back to standing. That seemed to snap him back to reality a little, but he looked confused, still shaking.
“Hey, Dae-ho…” you muttered, and his eyes finally settled on you, looking like a deer caught in headlights, “it’s ok, they didn’t shoot us. We’re alive, we’re ok…” You could almost see the cogs turning in his mind as you said that, the confusion and fear slowly giving way to relief, breaths steadying as his eyes frantically scanned your body for signs of injury.
“We’re ok?” He whispered, and you nodded.
“We’re all good. Nobody got hurt. We did it.” He nodded, the gravity of what you said finally hitting him. He smiled, but his eyes still looked far away, like he wasn’t quite grounded yet. “Let’s go back to the dorms, yeah? Then vote to get the fuck out of here.” He just nodded again, and you led him from the room, following the rest of your team, who kept glancing back at him with a concerned expression.
By the time you got back to the main room, though, he was back to his usual enthusiastic self, excitedly discussing voting plans with the rest of your team, and encouraging everyone on their prowess in their individual games. Despite your victory, it seemed that you all wanted to leave, happy with the money as it was and wanting a fresh start outside of this hell. But as the voting commenced, it didn’t take long for the O side of the tally to tick up, and by the time you and Gi-hun got to vote - the last out of everybody - it didn’t matter. The circles had already won.
Dinner was a silent affair: Gi-hun, Player 001 and yourself eating quietly while Dae-ho kept guiltily glancing to where Jung-bae had extradited himself, his traitorous blue badge burning your eyes as though it was a bright neon sign. Eventually, he stood, pulling the older man almost by the scruff of his neck over to where the rest of you were and having a quiet, frustrated conversation with him. You sighed as Dae-ho dragged him to stand in front of you all, looking at you expectantly as Jung-bae just looked sheepish. You sighed. No point losing an ally over something you couldn’t change now.
“It’s not like you voting to leave would have changed a whole lot, we were outvoted by more than one person…” The subsequent onslaught of thanks almost made you want to take it back, but the joy and pride in Dae-ho’s face made it worth it.
While you pretty much knew each other’s names already, he decided this would be a good time for everyone to introduce themselves properly, starting with himself. He explainied that his name meant ‘big tiger’, and it made you giggle. It was fitting - a hard and brutal exterior when needed, but ultimately a softy beneath it all. You heard everyone else’s, finally learning that Player 001 was called Young-il, just like his number, but when it got to you, you had to explain that you weren’t sure what your name meant.
“We could always give it a meaning,” Gi-hun piped up, and you laughed.
“Like what?”
“Maybe… good at throwing.” You laughed again as his face crumpled in shame at his own attempt, the others chiming in to better him.
“Loud snorer!” Jung-bae exclaimed, earning an offended ‘hey’ thrown in his direction.
“Good teammate?” Young-il said, and Gi-hun scoffed.
“That one’s just lazy! What about pretty hair?”
“You don’t name someone after their hair!”
“Kind angel.” Dae-ho said proudly, and you honestly felt close to tears as everyone else stopped bickering to agree with him. You smiled thankfully as his eyes met your’s, laced with warmth and care. Maybe it would all be ok if you stayed a little longer.
"Ok, big tiger, kind angel it is."
“When we survive the next game and finally get to leave this place…” You had been talking for well over an hour now, and you had given up correcting his ‘when’ statements to ‘if’. His optimism was so sweet it hurt your teeth, but if it helped him cope with being in here, then they could rot for all you cared. “What do you want to do?”
“Well, I want to pay off my debt first…”
“Obviously.” He said with a laugh. “I mean fun stuff.” You smiled sadly, staring at your shoes.
“Honestly? I’ve been in survival mode for so long now I haven’t thought about fun stuff since I was young.” You paused a beat, glancing back up at him. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bum you out.” He just shrugged.
“That’s ok, I know what you mean. But you should. Think of something fun, I mean. Might help you get through this.” You couldn’t fault his logic, but it took you a minute before you could remember anything.
“When I was a kid, I read about the Bahamas being a magical place where there were black and pink sand beaches, and that you could swim with pigs in the sea there… it sounded so peaceful and picturesque. I think I’d like to visit one day.”
“That sounds amazing…” he replied, wistfully looking at the ceiling. You were keeping watch together, your team peacefully sleeping under the beds behind you, and the silence their absence left seemed to be goading you to keep talking.
“We could go together. A few weeks, no stress, just sunbathing and swimming and…” It had slipped out before you could stop it, and you could feel the sentiment bouncing around the room, loud and weighty. There was a charged moment of silence, his eyes drifting from the ceiling to you, scanning your face for signs of insincerity. He wouldn’t find any.
“That would be perfect.” You smiled in relief, but it was short lived, both of you whipping your heads to the door frantically as you heard a knocking echo in the dark space. You found the source of the noise quickly though - Players 120 and 149 requesting to use the bathroom. You watched the scene play out quietly, smiling at the older woman’s dramatic display as they were finally let through by the guards, and the space fell into a stifling silence once again.
“What are you going to do when you get out of here?”
“We.” He corrected you quickly, and you blushed.
“Fine, when we get out of here.” He paused, fiddling with the collar of his jacket and pulling it up to cover the lower half of his face, fingers twirling the zip as he pulled his knees to his chest.
“I want to take you to see my hometown. My family still live there, and I know my sisters would love you. They could even teach you gonggi too, if you wanted.” A tear fell to your cheek, the tenderness of it all hitting you quickly. “Maybe buy a little place there and one in Seoul, so I can visit them as much as I want. Spend weekends by the water there. Not as exciting as the Bahamas, granted…” You rested your head on his shoulder, blinking back the tears and swallowing hard to clear the emotion from your voice. It didn’t work.
“That would be perfect.”
It scared you how much you trusted him so quickly. It hadn’t even been two days and you found yourself daydreaming of a future with him. A future where you didn’t have to do shit like this for money. A future where you both found good jobs, earning enough to keep you comfortable. A future where you could start over with the help of the money you earned here. A future worth living for. You’d always been sceptical, but maybe trauma bonding was a real thing after all.
“Dae-ho?” A sleepy voice behind you muttered, and you both turned to see Gi-hun shuffling out from beneath the one of the beds. You had all decided to make doubles when you were setting up earlier with the bunks that were already next to each other, sliding two mattresses together and having a buddy to make it safer, Jung-bae opting to sleep alone in shame. Young-il followed him out, yawning dramatically and rubbing his eyes. “You guys have been up for a long time, let us swap out for a while.”
“Are you sure?” You asked, but Young-il yawning had set you off, following suit even though you tried to suppress it. They just gave you that look dads use instead of saying ‘I told you so’. “Yeah, yeah, ok fair enough.”
Dae-ho shuffled in first, and you followed. It was cramped, sure, but there was just enough room for you to sleep on your side or turn over, so you didn’t feel claustrophobic. As you made your way in, you realised how dark it was, evidenced by the fact you only found where Dae-ho was when you bumped into him, your arm pressing into his. A few moments passed and you stayed like that, finding comfort in the warmth he provided you with, and the soft sound of his breathing. Then you felt it. One of his fingers delicately tracing a line up the back of your hand. Your breath hitched, then evened out as the patterns he drew soothed you, and you couldn’t stop your head from lulling towards him to rest on his shoulder once more. Wordlessly, he withdrew his arm from beside yours and slid it underneath your neck, his hand falling to your shoulder, gently pulling you closer without being forceful. You allowed him to move you however he wanted, following his guidance and twisting until you were on your side, letting your leg drape over his and your hand fall to his chest. Your head ended up nestled into his neck as his arm kept tightening around you, hand eventually resting on your waist. You settled further into him with a contented sigh, his other hand meeting yours and enveloping it, the warmth and comfort alongside the rise and fall of his chest almost sending you straight to sleep.
It was a few minutes before you heard him speak, and even then you couldn’t be sure it was real. You were so close to drifting off, and his voice was barely audible, lips ghosting across your scalp.
“Promise me…” he whispered, quiet and vulnerable, “that we’ll make it out of here?” He sounded so broken. You lifted your entwined hands to your lips, pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles that you hoped conveyed reassurance before tucking your joined hands close to your body.
“I promise.” His own lips found themselves on your forehead, the lightness of the touch leaving your skin tingling and a content blush fanning across your cheeks. His hands squeezed yours tighter as exhaustion began to pull you under, and all you could think was how badly you’d fucked yourself over. That even if you somehow made it out of this place, if it was without him, it would feel worthless.
"Goodnight, kind angel."
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