#which could only be viewed by him as a way of the voice sort of making it up to him for the loss of his wife and daughter
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ihavemanyhusbands · 2 days ago
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Imperator
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Pairing: Lucius Verus Aurelius x Fem!Reader
WC: 6.7k words
Summary: Once, you only had the memory of the curious barbarian poet, entertaining guests at a party with both violence and verse. But it's not until you see him again, now as emperor, that you get to know the man underneath the titles.
Warnings: Minors DNI this fic is 18+, power imbalance (emperor/servant to freedwoman), mutual pining, slow-ish burn, sort of forbidden love?, lots and lots of fluff good lord, some jealousy, some angst, lovey dovey smut, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), maybe some historical inaccuracies lol (I care a lot okay), and iii think that's it but lmk if anything else!
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"Love will enter cloaked in friendship's name."
– Ovid.
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“The gates of hell are open night and day. Smooth the descent, and easy is the way. But to return, and view the cheerful skies, In this the task and mighty labor lies.”
That was the first time you had ever heard him speak, the deep timbre of his voice riddled with contempt. Moments before, he had killed another gladiator, his blood spattered on him like a gruesome adornment. But there was no savagery in his fierce eyes, no mere bloodthirst in the sneer directed at Emperor Geta, your Dominus. His glare was even, like a cold, blue flame that promised not just violence, but retribution as well.
You’d recognized the poem immediately, just as taken aback as everyone else. Nobody moved, the room’s collective breath held in anticipation of the inevitable repercussions of such an offense. Emperor Geta made the slightest move to raise his sword and you gripped the decanter of wine tighter, but your face remained impassive.
“Virgil,” supplied Macrinus, trying to placate him with a broad smile. “He was taught poetry just to amuse you, Imperators.”
There was another momentary pause in which neither twin was sure if they should believe him. But then, Caracalla snorted, standing up to clap the taller man’s shoulder.
“A poet,” He said, laughing. “That’s genius, Macrinus.”
“Yes, certainly very amusing,” Geta said begrudgingly, his jaw clenched. 
He and the gladiator had not stopped staring at each other for one moment, like two vipers poised to strike. 
“Good, I thought you’d like that,” Macrinus said, approaching his fighter to grasp his shoulder, perhaps in warning. “We live to serve you both.”
“Well, I look forward to seeing your poet at the upcoming games in the Colosseum,” he spits out, throwing the sword aside with a loud clatter. “Let’s see how his verses work for him then.”
Macrinus nodded at his steward to take the gladiator away. He was smiling, seemingly amused, as the steward approached him. As he was being shoved back to the atrium, his eyes took one last baleful look around the room. For the briefest second, you thought his eyes met yours, striking you like a piercing arrow, but then he was gone. 
You had no time to dwell on it though, as Emperor Geta returned to his seat and raised his glass to be refilled. But that didn’t mean you would forget so easily, even if your paths might never cross again. All you could do was offer a prayer to the Gods for him. 
—--------------------------
The next time you saw him, he was no longer a barbarian gladiator hailed from a distant land, but the new – and rightful – Emperor of Rome. His name was not Hanno, but Lucius Verus Aurelius, and he was the son of the recently passed Queen Lucilla, whom Rome still mourned. 
He was not cruel like the twins had been, rarely raising his voice, much less his hand. His demeanor was usually calm, but sometimes he stalked the halls restlessly, as if unsure what he should be doing. He still rose with the sun and trained for a couple of hours in the morning, already used to the routine he’d had as a gladiator, but after that, it was all politics. Endless scrolls of parchment to pore over, meetings to hold with the senate, and lending a patient ear to the populace’s needs. The weight of an empire was on his shoulders, and yet he didn’t bow under it. 
During the day, you served his wine and silently hovered around for anything else he might need. At night, you drew his baths, kept his torches lit, and prepared his bed. You would have helped him disrobe too, already used to it from your days of serving Geta, but he chose to do so himself. He was not quite used to his every need being attended to, self-sufficiency deeply ingrained in his being. Mostly, he waved away other servants, leaving you instead to care for him personally. 
There were times when you caught him looking at you as if you seemed vaguely familiar, a furrow in his brow when he couldn’t place you. You couldn’t fault him for not remembering you from Senator Thraex’s party, but there was a certain thrill at having piqued his curiosity regardless. Still, you kept your head down and offered no hints, as was your place. 
Until one night, while he watched you add aromatic oils and test the bath’s temperature, he finally asked the question that had been on his mind for days.
“What is your name?”
You were startled at first, not having expected him to address you at all. You told him your given Roman name, Domicia, and bowed your head respectfully. He pushed himself off the doorway and stepped into the bathroom, humming thoughtfully.
“Of the home,” he said, referring to the name’s meaning. “Are you Roman? Is that your real name?”
You shook your head in answer to both questions. “I have been in Rome for many years now, though.”
“I have not,” he said, a note of melancholy in his voice. “Yet I grew up here, in these very halls
”
He trailed off, looking around absently, lost in his memories. You could not begin to imagine what he had been through, what he had seen. You had heard of his being sent away as a child, with absolutely no choice in the matter, and could empathize with him. 
All you had ever known was a humble life in your native country, until you were stripped of your freedom and brought to the capital of Rome. Neither place felt like home, just the past and the present, and perhaps he was viewing things the same way. You could imagine, even understand, the bittersweetness of returning to a place one thought they might never see again. 
“We are honored and grateful to have you back, Dominus,” you said. “I hope things have been to your satisfaction.”
“I have no complaints,” he said, yet he sighed. “Though becoming accustomed to being here, in my current position, is going to take some more time.”
“If there is anything I can do to make it easier for you, please let me know.”
He inclined his head gratefully, your eyes meeting for a moment. “Thank you, Domicia.”
He had the barest of smiles on his handsome face, but you could tell it was genuine. You felt one corner of your lips tugging upwards, but you looked away out of propriety. Even if you were in the same room, you were leagues apart, and it would do you no good to try to imagine otherwise.
You stood up, grabbing the decanter from a nearby table to have it refilled. “Your bath is ready now. Would you like refreshments other than wine?”
He nodded and you bowed, making your way out. By the time you returned with more wine and a platter of olives, bread, and cheese, he was already in the bathtub, leaning back with his eyes closed. Your feet padded softly on the mosaic floor to avoid  disturbing him, and you left his refreshments on the table near the tub.
You settled at one side of the room just in case he might need anything, staring off into the middle distance and letting your mind drift. He glanced at you sidelong, his curiosity having only grown after your brief conversation. He still had that nagging feeling that he had seen you somewhere before, but he didn’t want to ask outright.
You felt his gaze on you but pretended not to, keeping your eyes averted. You thought again of the poem he’d recited, how different his demeanor had been then. You wondered what other verses he’d been taught, and if you might ever hear him recite anything again. He had a voice for poetry, somehow turning the words into a sort of enchantment, keeping one entranced.
“Doesn’t it feel
 strange sometimes?” he said suddenly, staring up at the ceiling. “When things settle and you realize how far you have come? How much you’ve had to sacrifice for it?”
You hummed in agreement, waiting for him to say more. 
“Sometimes, I even wonder if it was all worth it.”
Still lost in a haze of verses, you spoke before you could even think it through.
“Fortunate is he whose mind has the power to probe the causes of things and trample underfoot all terrors and inexorable fate.”
He sat up, surprised. “You know Virgil.” Recognition finally dawned on him. “You were at that party, weren’t you?”
You nodded. “Your words then were just as sharp as your blade.”
He huffed, leaning against the edge of the tub as he remembered his barely contained hatred. “Were you taught poetry to amuse, as well?”
“No, I used to read it with my mother when I was younger.”
“Who else have you read?”
“Ovid, Sappho, Horace
” You became a little flustered as he raised his eyebrows. “My mother was a bit of a romantic.”
“And you?”
It was your turn to huff with amusement, looking down at your hands. “I don’t believe I inherited that trait, no.”
The truth was that in a place such as Rome, love was quite hard to come by. You didn’t actively search for it, its ephemeral nature making you less inclined to, but you were no complete stranger to it. You’d never let it take root, though, for it was not something you could afford to have. 
“What about you, Dominus?”
“Me?” he said. “I suppose
 I’m not entirely sure anymore. I used to be, at one point.”
His haunted expression told you not to press him for details, so you just nodded sympathetically. The two of you lapsed into silence, the weight of tragedy hanging between you. You’d had a lot more time to become numb to your circumstances, but it was clear the pain he was experiencing was still fresh. 
“I will be forced to remarry eventually.” He sighed heavily. “Produce heirs to carry out the lineage, show Rome a unified front.”
“Well, whoever you marry shall be the most fortunate woman in the empire.”
He couldn’t help but chuckle, looking over at you. “You really believe so? You’re not just flattering me?”
“Of course,” you said, giving him a cryptic smile that made him laugh again. “I’m perfectly serious.”
“Oh, I am sure you are.”
After some time, he rose with a small splash, prompting you to immediately approach with an outstretched towel. His nudity barely registered in your mind, having already glimpsed him a few times. You wouldn’t dare to look at him directly, even if you were more than a little curious. You tensed as his fingers barely brushed yours in the exchange, but you quickly stepped back to give him more room.
He wrapped the towel around his waist, water dripping down his sculpted arms and chest. You went to start tidying up, studiously keeping your eyes on your task. He watched as you picked up the refreshments to take to the main chamber, a part of him wishing you would look at him instead. 
“One more thing,” he said and you immediately turned around. “Please, I want you to call me Lucius.”
Your face heated up at the mere thought of it. “I could never be so bold
”
“I insist,” he said, holding up a hand as you began to stammer again. “Perhaps only when it is just the two of us, if you’d prefer.”
“I will certainly try my best,” you said with an awkward grin, trying to keep your composure.
He chuckled. “Good enough for me.”
—-----------------
Weeks passed, and while Lucius still hadn’t managed to get you to call him by name, he had certainly gotten you to open up more. In the evenings, the two of you swapped more poetry, often sharing your own interpretations of the verses. At some point, he even had scrolls fetched from the library for you to read to him. He enjoyed the mellifluous sound of your voice, so at odds with your serious expression when you were concentrating. To have him as your sole audience was already titillating,  but the fact that he paid close attention was even more of a rush.
During the day, you anxiously looked forward to those handful of hours in which everything else disappeared. No speak of Rome, politics, or bitter memories, content with being each other’s brief escape. You still held yourself at a certain distance, though, always aware of the chasm between you. Yet he never made you feel inferior, often encouraging you to share your thoughts and opinions with him despite your reticence. You would even dare to say he cared, or at least that’s what you wanted to believe.
You wouldn’t necessarily say you were getting attached, for that would be too unrealistic of a fantasy, but you could not deny the butterflies in your stomach that often appeared while around him. His easy, handsome smile, the kindness in his eyes, his patient indulgence when listening to you, and the effort he put into making you laugh

But the spell was abruptly broken the day he received a visit from his friend Ravi, who had brought someone for him to meet – a respectable Roman lady. A widow, as it happened, just like Lucius. Her hair was perfectly styled, falling in ringlets that framed her lovely face. She wore a lavender-colored dress with a matching veil, much fancier than anything you’d ever owned, and was adorned with golden jewelry. More importantly, she was freeborn, and thus a perfectly good candidate for marriage.
You swallowed hard, otherwise keeping your expression neutral. You hadn’t thought he would start meeting potential brides so soon, and you certainly hadn’t expected how it would make you feel. At least, Lucius also seemed surprised, not expecting his friend to try to set him up without consulting him first. Still, he assumed the role of gracious host and welcomed them warmly, leading them out to the gardens. He glanced over his shoulder at you as you silently trailed behind them, but you didn’t meet his gaze.
The three of them reclined on the couches of the outdoor dining area, shaded by a wooden pergola. It was a beautiful sunny day, the birds singing accompanied by the gurgle of the large fountain at the center of the garden. A gentle breeze stirred the foliage, carrying the faint, sweet smell of a dozen different flowers. 
You served them wine and hovered close by as another servant brought them food to snack on. Lucius had deliberately sat across from where you stood just so he could keep an eye on you. You’d withdrawn into yourself, trying your hardest to remain indifferent instead of worrying about whether the meeting went well or not. If it did, then you had to be happy for him, but if it didn’t
 Well, at least that would buy you a little more time, if nothing else.
“Such a lovely garden,” the lady, Ilaria, said as she looked around. “One could never tire of such a view.”
Lucius nodded absently but said nothing, as if he hadn’t heard her.
“I could see you fitting in perfectly with all the other flowers here,” Ravi cut in, smiling with as much charm as he could muster to make up for it.
Ilaria inclined her head, modestly waving off the compliment. “Oh, you flatter me, Ravi.”
He gave Lucius a subtle, pointed look to encourage him to follow his lead. Lucius sat up and cleared his throat, only just focusing on the conversation. He had been trying to get your attention as subtly as possible, but he hadn’t been successful. 
“Er, yes, it’s always a treat to spend time out here. Certainly helps to clear the mind.”
Ravi shook his head a little and tried not to snort with amusement, thinking he was a lost case. Ilaria smiled, unbothered, taking a handful of grapes from a platter and popping one into her mouth. 
“I’d wager there is much on your plate, Imperator,” she said. “And having to manage the household staff on top of everything else
 Must be a little overwhelming for you, no?”
“Well, I am a very busy man, yes, but it hasn’t been all that bad,” Lucius said. “I’ve certainly had a great deal of support to see me through.”
His words managed to reach you, softening you up infinitesimally. This time, when he glanced at you, you finally looked back. The ghost of a smile was on your face, but you quickly looked away before it could actually manifest.
“I see. Well, I’m very glad to hear that,” Ilaria said, sharing a curious glance with Ravi, who looked slightly apologetic. “Though perhaps you have considered that having someone run the house for you would take a big burden off your shoulders. I would be more than happy to lend a hand if you’d consider it.”
His eyebrows raised slightly at her boldness, not missing the eagerness in her gaze, poorly concealed behind her innocently helpful demeanor. He certainly did not want to get her hopes up, but he smiled graciously to soften the blow.
“Ah, perhaps in the future, when I have more time to worry about such things,” he said, politely noncommittal. “But I appreciate the offer.”
Her smile wavered and then froze, not wanting to seem too disappointed. “Of course, Imperator.”
For the remainder of their visit, Lucius let them do most of the talking, any remarks he made were studiously polite and yet still a little aloof. Finally, after a few hours, he excused himself, needing to return to his duties. Ravi seemed hesitant, like he wanted to stay behind and speak to him privately, but he would have to wait for another day. He escorted them both out, thanking them for visiting, but he did not exactly invite Ilaria to return to the palace. Her disappointment was more palpable then, but she hid it with as much grace as she could muster.
When they were gone, he turned to you with a shake of his head and a sigh, grinning with bewilderment.
“I do not enjoy being ambushed,” he said as if he felt the need to explain himself. “Decent enough as she seemed.”
You bowed your head in agreement, more relieved than you would like to admit. You had no real reason to have been upset earlier, given that there was nothing between you except for a certain kinship. Even so, it was clear he had not wanted you to be hurt, and you were very thankful for that. You offered him a small smile and some tension seemed to leave his shoulders.
He inclined his head towards the eastern hallway leading to his study. “Come, I would like you to read some documents to me. I can get work done faster that way.”
The tablinum was spacious but cozy, with a door to one side that led to a smaller patio. Before, the twin emperors had never used the room, but now it seemed well lived in. There was a mess of scrolls and wax tablets all over his desk that he still hadn’t let you organize. On the wall behind, there was a recently completed fresco of a gladiator riding a chariot pulled by two horses. For another wall, he had commissioned a portrait of Vesta, goddess of the home and the hearth, but it was still a work in progress. He was particularly proud of that one, an unspoken gift for you, his muse.
You lit the oil lamps in their alcoves, bathing the room in warm light. Lucius sat at his desk with a heavy exhale and scanned his notes to remember where he had left off the previous day. You sat on a stool beside him, unfurling the scroll he handed you and resting it on your knees. The texts you read didn’t always make sense to you, but you understood their importance. The fact that he was entrusting you with such work was an honor you did not take for granted.
“Start in that middle section. There is some stuff I would like to revisit,” he said, taking up his stylus. 
You nodded, finding what he was referring to and starting right away. You read to him for the next couple of hours, only stopping if he needed you to repeat something or in case he needed more time to make his notes. A few times during the latter, you glanced up to take in the focused furrow of his brow, a muscle in his jaw ticking as he pondered. You wondered what he might be thinking about, wishing he would impart some more knowledge on you. 
Outside, the sun was beginning to set, shadows deepening in the corners of the room. Another servant brought him dinner, but he didn’t seem too hungry yet. He handed you his cup of water when he heard you clear your throat a few times, insisting when you were reluctant to take it. 
When he was done for the day, he stretched his arms over his head with a groan and slumped in his seat. You neatly rolled the parchment back up and stood so you could stretch your legs. 
“I hope I haven’t tired you too much,” he said, folding his hands behind his head and leaning back. “You can take the rest of the evening off from reading if you’d like, but I would still appreciate some company.”
“Well, I still need to draw your bath and
”
“Somebody else can take care of it,” he cut in with a shrug, not preoccupied.
You hesitated. “What would you have me do instead, then?”
“Just sit back down, relax for a moment,” he said, getting up. “Here, you can have my chair. Much more comfortable.”
You were about to protest, but he gave you a look that said it was not up for discussion. You pursed your lips, uncomfortable at the idea of being idle, especially while taking up his seat. Still, you obeyed and sat down, hands folded on your lap. Feeling a little bold, you looked at him as if to say ‘satisfied?’ and he huffed in amusement.
“Wait, stay still,” he murmured suddenly, leaning down.
You froze as his face hovered mere inches away from yours, his breath fanning over your cupid’s bow. Delicately, he removed a stray eyelash that had been resting on your cheekbone, and he pulled back a little so you could see it on the pad of his finger.
“Make a wish,” he said.
All you could do was stare at him for another breathless moment that seemed to stretch on infinitely. You licked your lips nervously, drawing his eyes there before they returned to hold your gaze. Your heart was like a nervous bird fluttering wildly in your ribcage. Your mind was mostly blank, but the one thought that popped up was ‘I wish he would close the distance right now.’
You gently blew the eyelash away, your wish scattering into the air alongside it. The Gods must have decided to grant it immediately, for he did not pull away, instead slowly leaning in. His lips brushed yours tentatively and you closed your eyes, rejoicing for the barest second before you forced your face to turn away.
“We shouldn’t
” you murmured, the words hard to utter when a desperate want clung to your throat like honey.
“Why not?” He whispered.
“It’s not– I’m not
” You vaguely gestured towards yourself, unsure of what the right words were. 
He pulled back to look at you better. “Was I too presumptuous?”
You shook your head. “Not at all.”
“Then what is it?” He pressed.
“Dominus, please.”
“Lucius,” he pleaded, loathing the title. “Say it, please.”
“Lucius,” you said finally, though your eyes still spelled defiance when you glanced at him. “Is it not obvious? We both know it’s impossible.” Your lower lip trembled slightly. “I have a heart, too, you know? I don’t want it to be broken.”
“I know that, of course I know that!” He said, placing his hands on your shoulders and crouching in front of you. “I have no intention of breaking your heart.”
“Surely you understand where I am coming from, though.” You sniffed, keeping tears at bay. “I am not wife material, like the lady Ilaria. I have nothing to offer, no dowry, no family name, or even an inkling of Patrician blood. ”
“I do not care for such things. I would never demand them of you. Even if we cannot marry, I will not marry anyone else that isn’t you,” he said with a firm, determined shake of his head. “But I can still give you my name, along with your freedom. That’s all that matters to me.”
You gasped, the shock of his words akin to a bucket of ice water being dumped over you. Now you let the tears spill over, like a dam had finally burst. He kissed them away, his hands cupping your face gently.
“I have been thinking of nothing else since I met you. I’ve already made the arrangements
 I suppose I just didn’t want to ruin the surprise.”
“You honor me,” you said, smiling despite the tears. “You always have.”
“Why shouldn’t I?” He asked. “You have given me more than you think. You brought me the peace I have been so desperately seeking for a long time.”
“I-I don’t even know how to thank you.” You placed a hand over his. “If you desire to give me your name, then I shall give you mine in return.”
You told him your name, the real one, which you had been hiding ever since your Roman name was given to you. He had never asked you for it, knowing that one’s name was the only thing one could truly own in this world. And now for you to give it freely
 He repeated it, testing its shape on his tongue, and smiled radiantly.
“Pairs rather well with Lucia Veria, if I do say so myself,” he said with a proud chuckle, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “If you’ll have it, that is.”
You knew by the disarming earnestness in his eyes he wasn’t just offering the name, but himself, as well. His whole heart in the palm of your hand, should you choose to care for it. You felt as if you had already made that choice a while ago, when you first recited Virgil back to him.
“I will,” you said with an elated chuckle. “Of course I will.”
He took your hands in his, kissing both of them. “Then first thing tomorrow, we will make it official.”
More tears flowed as a result of an overwhelming rush of both gratitude and love. You had tried to ignore your feelings, not uprooting them but instead silently letting them grow unacknowledged. For once, it had seemed worth the risk of heartbreak. After all, the love hadn’t stemmed from something as fleeting as lust, but a mutual understanding and respect. It was more than you could ever ask for, and yet everything you desired.
You leaned your forehead against his, your noses brushing as he tilted his head back. This time, it was you who brought your lips to his with a tentative sort of tenderness, propriety still at the back of your mind. He responded in kind, letting you set the pace so as not to scare you off. If you weren’t shaking so much, you might have noticed he was shaking, too. 
In that kiss, there was the promise of mutual devotion, sweet and sincere. You were still holding each other’s hands, as if afraid you might drift apart if you let go. You understood then why odes were written about this feeling, as all-consuming as the churning waves of the sea. All those verses had never resonated with you more. 
Perhaps you had inherited the romanticism, after all. 
—------------------
The air smelled of night-blooming jasmine, the fresh sweetness of it bringing you a sense of tranquility. You leaned against the windowsill, looking up at the stars and trying to piece together constellations. The world seemed drastically different now that you had your freedom, so vivid, so open, so alive. You even noticed it in your posture and the lightness with which you walked, as if you were floating. Lucius had said you were radiant with it.
He’d insisted on taking care of you the same way you’d cared for him, eager to show you his gratitude. You had been hesitant at first, but at his unwavering conviction, you relented, curious how it might feel to be spoiled. All that day, he had served you reverently, taking time off from his duties to focus solely on you.
You couldn’t help getting flustered at all the attention, his ardent gaze like a caress every time it met yours. His touch had so far been entirely chaste, but even the smallest, most innocuous contact was heightened with anticipation. The brush of his fingers over yours when he handed you something, a guiding hand on your lower back, even a touch on your shoulder to make you aware of his presence.
There were a few sneaked kisses in both the garden and the tablinum, each one of them leaving an undercurrent of warmth under your skin that promised more. It was like a slow, drawn-out game of chase, neither of you in a rush to reach its conclusion. If anything, it only made you want each other more. 
After the sun had set, when the two of you drifted along as if in a drunken stupor, Lucius went to prepare a bath for you in his chambers. You were nervous and exhilarated, every moment spent waiting for him to be done an exquisite agony. Until finally, he poked his head around the bathroom door.
“It’s ready now,” he said, beckoning you with a smile.
You followed him into the bathroom, hands wringing anxiously. Flower petals were scattered on the mosaic floor, leading towards the steaming tub. Flickering candles bathed the room in a warm glow, making your shadows dance on the wall. You looked at each other, both knowing what the next step was but hesitant to initiate it. He averted his gaze first, gesturing towards the door.
“Would you like me to give you some privacy?”
You shook your head, desire making you a little more brave. “I
 I would love some help undressing, though.”
His spine straightened, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. “With pleasure.”
He crouched to slowly pull the hem of your long tunic upwards, rising with it. You lifted your arms so he could get it over your head, the fabric falling to the floor unceremoniously. Your eyes were fixed on his face, drinking in his expression as he took a step back to get a better look at you. The bare expanse of your skin robbed him of breath, his eyes roaming over every curve and plane of your figure. He wanted to sink to his knees again and lay his forehead at your feet in worship, but he stood still, his fingers twitching at his sides.
“The evening star is the most beautiful of all stars,”  he said in a low voice, quoting Sappho.
Warmth spread from your chest to your face, and you smiled coyly as another verse came to mind. “Come to me once more, and abate my torment
”
You offered him your hand, which he took, and he led you to the tub. You daintily stepped in, sighing contentedly as you sank into the water’s enveloping warmth. He knelt next to the tub, leaning against it with one arm propped on the edge. 
“Have I told you enough times that you are beautiful?” He said. “I don’t think it has been enough.”
You huffed with amusement, looking down as you fought a geeky grin. “Well, about a hundred times with just your eyes. A few times out loud, though.”
He chuckled. “I suppose I’ll have to show you in other ways, too
 If I may.”
You nodded, silently granting him permission. He leaned forward and planted a soft kiss on your lips before standing up. He took it upon himself to bathe you, starting out by scrubbing your scalp. You leaned into his touch, eyes closing in bliss. He smiled at your soft, pleasured hum, and vowed to elicit as many more as he could. 
Things took on an almost ritualistic quality, with him focused entirely on his task. You were loose limbed, letting him move you about as he used a cloth to scrub your skin. He didn’t try anything that might be deemed unsavory, though you let his tender, reverential touch reach places no one had touched in a very, very long time. But he didn’t linger, to your slight frustration, not wanting to jump into things too quickly. The flames of your desire were stoked slowly, warmth running through you like sweet wine. 
When he was done, he helped you step out of the tub and immediately got to drying you off with a towel. You caught his eye for a moment, his pupils blown wide with equally fervent desire. You stopped yourself from clutching his arm, wanting to anchor yourself to him, but he could still tell you were growing restless. He kissed your shoulder, tapping the tip of your nose playfully with his finger.
“Not done quite yet,” he murmured, not missing the way you involuntarily pressed your thighs together. “You’ve always been very patient.”
“For the first time, I fear it might be running thin
” you said, to which he smiled. 
He grabbed a small glass bottle of rose oil and lathered some in his hands. He anointed your body with it, the heady scent of one of Venus’s favorite flowers permeating the air. As he reached your chest, you took hold of his wrist and brought his palm to rest over your heart. He felt it beating rapidly, your chest rising and falling with each panting breath.
His eyes fell to your lips, slightly parted with want. He grasped your chin with his free hand, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip.
“I have been thinking about this for a long time,” he said, leaning in to brush his nose against yours. “But I hadn’t wanted to touch you until now, when you actually felt like you had a choice in the matter.”
You clutched his wrist tighter, his thoughtfulness only making you want him more. All those hours he must have spent yearning, unaware that you were stuck thinking of him too. As emperor, he had the right to take whatever he wanted, but having previously been a gladiator, he understood the monumental importance of bodily autonomy. Very few people in Rome had such a privilege and he couldn’t bear the thought of being the one to rob you of it. 
You kissed him in response, much fiercer, hungrier, than all the other kisses you had shared so far. A desperate sound escaped his throat and he clasped you against him tightly. Swiftly, he scooped you up into his strong arms and carried you out to the bedchamber as he would a bride.
Gently, he set you down on the bed and pulled away to remove his tunic. This time, you were not meek about his nakedness. You brazenly stared at him, eyes mapping out the lines of his muscles, the pink, raised skin of his scars, and the soft trail of hair on his abdomen that seemed to suggestively point downwards. 
His shoulders were squared with pride at your ogling, a sly smile on his face. He’d had an inkling before of your attraction, but to see it on full display was narcotic, and he felt himself pulse with an aching need.
“Come closer,” you said softly.
He did, climbing over you, his warmth immediately enveloping you. You hid your face on the junction between his neck and shoulder, embarrassed at all the thoughts rushing through your mind.
“What is it?” He asked, raising an eyebrow with amusement.
“Nothing,” you said, voice muffled against his skin. “I just
 I do not think you realize how badly I wanted this, too. I-I don’t want to ever stop.”
He chuckled indulgently, nudging your head so you’d look at him. “Neither do I.”
He kissed you again, and again, and again. You were so close to him that the lines of your bodies became indivisible, but it still didn’t seem like enough. Your knees hiked up to his hips in a silent plea, but he did not give in quite yet, wanting to prolong things for as long as he could.
Still, unable to resist a little bit of mutual torment, he slid upwards until his hips were aligned with yours. You gasped as you felt the velvety underside of his erection against your slick folds, each small movement making you tremble. Your brows furrowed and your lips parted in a wanton expression, your eyes shiny and half lidded as you looked at him.
“Lucius,” you whimpered. 
“I know,” he murmured soothingly, kissing your neck. “I know.”
Neither of you were willing to break apart from your embrace, so there wasn’t actually much of a preamble. Feverish, he sank into you slowly, your nails digging into his biceps as he stretched you open. That first round was frantic, almost animalistic, all the pent up longing finally being released. His body rolled over yours with the power of the sea’s waves, leaving you awash in ecstasy.
Neither of you lasted very long, but it didn’t matter, as you were nowhere near spent. Lucius, still in the afterglow of his orgasm, lazily began to kiss you all over, wanting to discover every mole and freckle, every tender spot that made you squirm, and every other little detail that made you you. 
He settled between your thighs, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive bundle of nerves. You tried to prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him, but he wrapped his arms around your thighs and pulled you closer. 
“What are you– Oh,” you gasped at the first flick of his tongue, the entirely new sensation disarming you. 
He tasted his essence mixed with yours, a groan rumbling in his chest. You tightly grasped the sheets under you, arching against his face. You bit your lip to stop yourself from making the most undignified sounds, but it was hard to focus, especially as his fingers were added into the mix. Your body burned brighter than any brazier, his arms pinning you down as he conquered you with his mouth. You shattered once more, crying out as he helped you ride it all the way through. 
After, you lied side by side, facing each other. You’d still not had your fill of him, but you needed to gather your strength for the long night ahead. You shared a breathy chuckle, as if still in disbelief it had finally happened, and he kissed your sweat-slick forehead.
“Now that was poetry,” you said jokingly, making him laugh again. 
“You put every verse to shame, my love,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
You kissed his palm, adoring, and tangled your legs with his. A swell of emotion unlike anything you had ever felt rose within you. It was as if he had awakened a new part of you that you hadn’t known was dormant, bringing you back from an existence that consisted solely of drifting through days that blended into one another.
He was just as grateful to have found you, his peace, his solace, the woman who would always guard his heart. He murmured your name reverently, a reminder that you were his, and he was yours. You drew closer to him, like a moth to flame, and pushed him onto his back, straddling him. His hands came to rest on your hips and your eyes were full of mirth as you held his gaze.
“As it happens, I find myself compelled to compose some more with you.” You grinned playfully, hands sliding up his chest. 
He mirrored your grin, not minding the idea one bit. “Relentless, just like the great muse Calliope.”
“Well, when inspiration strikes
 It can’t be helped, can it?”
“No,” he said. “Not when it comes to you.”
------
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the-silver-chronicles · 1 year ago
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Thinking of an AU where Adam sold Silva off to Joseph and Eden’s Gate (in some delusional sense that she would destroy it because honestly that’s the only reason he’d ever give her to the Project) as a child and the Voice convinces Joseph to take her up as a protege. Maybe Paul plays a part into this AU, maybe he doesn’t. Not sure with him yet, since this would be the first time they wouldn’t meet under regular circumstances (the “save the child from drowning and visit her occasionally and eventually gain her trust and adopt her then and there” kind of circumstance).
Anyway, it made me realise that “holy shit, the idea of an Eden’s Gate/Seed-aligned Silva is an utterly terrifying concept” regardless how it happens
 because this is a version of Silva who is willing to look past child sacrifices, mass murder and oppression (depending on whether or not these had happened to her in this timeline/s). This is a version of Silva who is more than willing to forgo morality to do as she pleases. A more selfish and malicious Silva.
Could be even worse than the Seeds combined because she’s also better than them too. Opens up a horrific can of worms. The amount of potential this has.
God the Resistance and whichever deputy unlucky enough to face her would be so super fucked. Doesn’t matter if she has learned something (bad) from her experiences with Adam and Paul (probably Apostle-aligned), or if she took an interest in some of the things they taught her but through the Seeds this time around, Hope County would be dealing with a Silva who can physically, psychologically and emotionally outwit, overpower, and destroy them
 at any time if she wanted. A very dangerous opponent with a strategic prowess matching up to Jacob and Alexander (probably because they helped perfect her capabilities).
I don’t think most of Eden’s Gate’ members would be safe, as she’s likely prioritising the Seed Family and the select few people she likes.
(More possible ideas! Maybe she managed to convince a GFH/Resistance member to join Eden’s Gate in this timeline? Maybe she has a greater popularity and influence over the Eden’s Gate community than Joseph does? Maybe this was the Voice’s plan? Maybe it needed Joseph to raise the perfect Prophet for it? Endless ideas! I must write it down!)
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peachpitfics · 7 months ago
Text
Guilty as Sin
Fandom: Bridgerton
Summary: Benedict Bridgerton asks you to accompany him to his private studio, to show you some of the art he's been working on. You find a little more than you were expecting.
Length: 3k
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
Content Warnings: Oral sex (female receiving), Penetrative sex, Unprotected sex.
a/n: find pt 2 here!
Bridgerton master list
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"Good evening, y/n," A proud voice echoed behind you, discovering your hiding spot in the darkest corner, admiring Lady Danbury's art to appear busy. You didn't bother to turn and greet him, he always seemed to find you at these social events, even if you weren't outwardly interested in him, he persisted. Benedict Bridgerton slid into the space next to you as if it were designed for him, cheekily scanning you face for a reaction.
You met at Lady Danbury's ball 3 seasons previous. Your brother was holding out hope for a match this season, ignoring your contentedness for your own company. Benedict had never shown any interest in any young lady - he did, however, find amusement in torturing you this way.
"Bridgerton," You barely mumbled a response, hoping he would find another to bother this evening. Yet there he remained, exchanging his attention for the painting you were looking at.
"There are far better paintings in this ballroom" He remarked, a little scoff sounding off.
"Yes, I am sure there are. However, this one is positioned perfectly" Still, you avoided eye contact and angled your body away from him. He was definitely not the same as the other Bridgerton men. Benedict was frivolous and artistic, lost in his own hedonistic world of luxury and pleasure. Perhaps it was jealousy that ruled your opinion of Benedict.
"Ah, yes. I truly have never seen a damp, dark corner without you in it, you know?" He chuckled, "Why do you pretend to be interested in art, when you could be watching whatever is unfolding behind you? I'm sure the numerous scandals and embarrassing events you would witness would be far more interesting" He asked, there was even a hint of genuine curiosity in his words.
You paused for a moment, contemplating even continuing this conversation or leaving to find your brother or mother.
"Actually, I rather enjoy art. I am more interested in sculpture or ceramics, but I will endure whatever I have to to get through this evening and every other evening like it this season" You spilled. Benedict was stunned, his eyebrows raised and his blinks steady in shock.
"I didn't know you had a like for such things" Benedict said serenely.
"Of course not, I am certain you thought my only interests were embroidery or pianoforte, like every other simpering mess in this ballroom" You thought your snarky remark was under your breath, but Benedict did manage to hear. He breathed a heady laugh through his nose and took a sip of his lemonade.
"Would you be interested in viewing some of my works?" Benedict pondered aloud, finally dragging your eyes to meet his. It seemed sincere - which was not something you often saw from him. Whilst he was a shameless flirt, you never indulged him like some of the other young ladies. It was obvious that he viewed you as some sort of challenge, but you would never give in.
"Is that a serious invitation?" You asked, taken aback.
"Yes, absolutely. Art is potentially the only thing I do take seriously. I would love to show you, if you would like to see it" He almost bowed, as if the pursuit of his art was the most noble thing about him. This shift in his personality made him less repulsive, it intrigued you. Turning to face him, for the first time in so many months, throwing off his balance slightly, you held your hand out for him to take.
"You would like to see it now?" His brow furrowed, eyes asking permission to take your hand and lead you out to the carriages.
"Why not? We've been to this ball numerous times before, it will not be getting any more interesting" With the softest of smiles decorating your normally sour face, Benedict took your hand and began walking outside with you, watching nervously as people ignored your presence.
"Will this not be damning to your marriage prospects?" Benedict leaned over to whisper in your ear, an element of concern riding along his words.
You gave him a pitiful smile, "What prospects?". Not a single soul noticed the two of you leaving the ball. Benedict held the carriage door open for you and held your hand as you stepped up into it.
"I've never slipped out of an event quite like that" He remarked, closing the door, sitting opposite you.
"Well, in truth, I thought perhaps someone might have stopped us, just because of you
 But, I suppose, my power of invisibility is shared with the person I am escaping with" Your eyebrows flicked up. Benedict could not discern whether you were happy or not to fly out of the view of the ton. While it was a blessing most days, you were afforded your privacy and peace. Perfect silence. There were many other days filled with loneliness, the madness of having to hear your own voice in your head just to fill the quiet.
The carriage ride was slightly uncomfortable, the two of you had never had to be alone like this. You were delivered to Benedict's college where he had been studying art and he led you towards his private studio. Benedict's hand reached out for the door handle, stopping short, and spinning to look at you, back pressed against the door.
"I presume you understand I don't bring people here," He paused, his demeanour was soft and vulnerable, "Be gentle with me". He waited for acknowledgment on what he was saying, and with a nod of promise from you, he opened the door. You both walked inside in sweet silence as you took in the most beautiful sight. The room was littered with parchment, sketches, canvases. Drabs of colour, charcoal and lead lit only by low candlelight as Benedict struck the match. This was the most personal gesture of friendship you had ever experienced, it was like peering through window into Benedict Bridgerton's mind - a place he only has the keys to. Several desks were patterned around the room, a small platform in the centre of the room, drying racks on the far left. You were surprised by this unapologetically intimate space, and even more impressed by the immense talent you were witnessing.
"What are you working on currently?" You did not mean for the excitement of the room to fill you up so keenly. Benedict had such a hard time trying to read your reaction, your manner and tone were thrilling to him.
"Oh, please" He gestured towards a far table, where an easel stood facing the window, "I am learning about portraiture this semester. This is something I am doing for my youngest brother, Gregory, for his birthday" His hand sailed past your lower back, shuffling you both around. A deliciously electric pulse passed over your body, goose bumps erupting in a rolling wave quickly trailing behind.
"Benedict, this is incredible" You gasped, your hands covering your mouth with astonishment.
Oddly, he stepped back from you and placed his hand on his heart.
"What did I say?" You smiled uncomfortably.
His face softened, his eyes fluttering peacefully, "My name. That is the first time, you have ever said my name" A flash of teeth in his grin made your heart jump its next beat. There was a flush of embarrassment in your cheeks, your eyes flicked between Benedict's and the floor.
"I apologise" Admittedly, you had never given him a chance to show how utterly human he was. When he had asked you to come to the studio, you wondered whether the room would be filled to the brim of paintings of naked women. How wrong you were - finding yourself surrounded by paintings and scrawling's of every member of his family. You dug around, flicking through sketchbooks, diaries.
"Have you found a favourite?" He meandered around the room after you, hands tucked behind his back like a gentleman, observing.
"This one, is my favourite" You held up a side profile of Violet Bridgerton, done entirely in variants and shades of their family colours.
"I am yet to show her that one, do you think I should?" He asked, and you sensed he truly valued your opinion here.
"Yes! If I had half your talent, I would have filled my family's home with my work" You chuckled, laying the canvas down on the current desk you were visiting.
You moved around the other side of the room, noticing a section of the room more damp, and darkly lit, compared to the rest of the studio. There stood an easel with a large drape thrown over it, and several canvases stacked betwixt it and the wall. This struck a chord of curiosity in you that could not be contained, you almost dashed forward to pull the drape down.
"No! Wait, not those!" Benedict rasped, darting forward to try and stop you. It was too late, the cream-coloured drape had coiled to the floor and revealed what Benedict did not want you to see.
Brow furrowing, you stood back, taking in what you were seeing for the first time. Here, on the easel, an unfinished portrait, of you.
"That's -- That's private" Benedict cleared his throat uncomfortably.
"Is this
 me?" You didn't know whether to be flattered, impressed, or worried. Had he done this from memory? That was when it occurred to you to look down. Picking up, and flicking through the canvases, they were all you. There were maybe six or seven of them, all in different poses, of differing angles. Had he taken such notice of you to be able to do this from memory? The detail in your face, your hair and even dresses you had worn in past seasons.
"This is
" You shook your head, placing the canvases back. Benedict stood behind you, leaving a distance so as not to make this more uncomfortable than it already was. His hands were pressed together at his lips as if he were praying, wearily hanging on for your next words.
"No one has ever seen me like this, or rather, at all" You sighed.
"I see you as you are" Benedict replied too quickly.
"And how is that?"
There was a long pause, an internal struggle between what he wanted to say and what he should.
"I see
 the raw soulfulness of your gaze. The divine sway in your walk. The sensual ruthlessness of your words. The confidence of your acceptance. I have watched, and waited, and wallowed in avaricious longing" Benedict heaved in a deep breath, "Every line, every curve, every shade I fear is a figment of my imagination until I see you again, just so that I might commit a little more to memory".
Benedict's eye cast low, his discomposure becoming more and more apparent. You were not to know that the one person you had been avoiding for the past several seasons had been perceiving you exactly as you had always dreamed. Perhaps it was not Benedict's personality that made you keep him at arm’s length, but rather your own.
You bound forward, slightly tripping on your gown, throwing yourself in the second Bridgerton brother's arms. In the instant he caught you, you planted the shyest of kisses on his unsuspecting lips. Benedict chuckled sweetly, lifting you to stand on your own two feet again, wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you into to a longer, more fervent kiss. His lips were much softer than you were anticipating, gentle and cool against your own. Benedict's tongue dipped into yours, his kiss still passionately intoxicating. You parted for a moment, both of you breathing a little heavier now. Benedict took a step back, straightening his dress clothes and composing himself.
"I apologise, miss y/n"
"Why do you apologise? I am the one who owes you" You stammered.
"I am just glad that no one saw us, I will not have you ruined. I will not be the one that ruins you" Benedict stumbled over his words, words filled with such consideration and respect for you and your standing in society.
Panting still, bosom heaving over the corset, you thought about what he was saying. You thought about your "prospects".
Taking one large step forward, pressing your body against his, you leaned up as if to kiss Mr Bridgerton's cheek goodbye.
"Ruin me" You breathed, begged, into his ear, hands wrapping around his neck, your breath hitching in your throat as Benedict swooped you into his arms, carrying you to the nearest desk. He placed your behind on the edge of the desk, moving to sweep every piece of art clattering to the floor before turning his attention back to you. Your legs wrapped around his thighs, his lips crashing into you, his tongue fiercely caressing yours. Much to Benedict's surprise, you slipped your arms out of your dress, pushing the fabric down around your hips.
Stunned and dramatic shock shot across his face as he looked upon your upper body in your corset. Benedict blinked furiously, as if trying to regain control of his sense.
"May I?" He took hold of the fabric around your waist, pulling it out from under you as you lifted yourself slightly, signalling a loud yes. Sitting in your undergarments, Benedict wrapped his arms around your body, expertly fiddling with the laces as you nodded fervently into his delectable kisses. You grinned into his mouth, feeling the corset loosen quickly – he had done this before. Your fingers fumbled along the seam of his pants, unfurling the tucked fabric of his dress shirt, fiddling with the buttons of his overcoat.
Benedict stopped, throwing his coat across the room and removing his dress shirt as frantically as possible. It took only seconds for his eyes to widen at your naked body, sitting on the desk before him.
"Holy God" He exhaled, lunging forward, thrusting his hand into your hair, pulling you into a devilish kiss. His hands curved under your behind, lifting you forward to the very edge of the table before falling to his knees before you as if you were divine, and he, a devout worshipper at the altar. Littering kisses down your inner thigh, his nose nestling into the soft nest of hair at your mound, he breathed heavily, groaning with pleasure. Benedict's tongue slipped between your folds, circling the most sensitive spot on your body, your hands sliding into his hair, pulling gently as his pace quickened and steadied in a repetitive manner. Never had you felt so safe and yet so powerful, holding Benedict's head in place between your thighs. Letting out soft, melodic moans, tangling your fingers amongst his hair, finding your hips having a mind of their own as they ground against him. The sheer coarseness of Benedict's dawning facial hair and the soft, warmth of his darting tongue were plenty enough to push your mind to the edge of the human experience. Your head turned dreamy, light, whilst your body convulsed and squeezed Benedict's head between your thighs.
Panting softly, Benedict remained, placing delicate kisses where his tongue had just performed. As your body relaxed into him again, Benedict appeared from the floor, kissing you again, to lay you backward on the table, your own sweetness on your tongue now. He stood before you, bare torso, undoing his dress pants. Excitement pulsed through you, propping yourself onto your elbows to watch. You had heard other ladies discuss this in the depths of their personal conversations but had never really learned anything from them. It was a topic of great interest.
Freeing himself before you, your enlarging eyes took in his length as he held himself in his hand. "Allow me?" Benedict looked down at you, sordid passion aflame in his eyes. You gave a clear, concise nod. Benedict moved closer between your thighs, adjusting your legs, and placing himself at your entrance. With both hands sprawled over the space between your belly and your hips, Benedict slowly pushed forward, eliciting guttural moans from your lips. But he never looked away from you, he never closed his eyes for more than a half-second. His desire burned out of him, his eyes searing down on you and in helplessness, you exuded wanton need in return.
You wished this act were eternal, completely unending. Every thrust an indiscreet attempt at conveying his affections for you. His hand found its way to caressing your cheek, his teeth nipping at your neck as you moaned his name.
“Benedict” You sighed without inhibition. The sound of your voice sent Benedict into a frenzy, his thrusts harder now and full-fledged. His sinful grunts, echoing across the studio, came to a hot, explicit apex as he buried himself as deeply as possible inside of you.
He looked down at you dreamily, his eyes heavy with pleasure, running his thumb over your bottom lip. Benedict stepped away, reaching for his dress pants, and sitting on to the ground in front of you – you moved to sit next to him, surrounded by the tables previous contents.
“You are wonderful. I could never capture such an essence, in any art form. You are transcendent” Benedict’s words were slow, the ruse of his silly exterior worn away.
“I much prefer this version of you” You gave a smug smile, both of you avoiding eye contact.
“As I do you” He retorted, chortling alongside you. The long, comfortable tired silence between you was broken only when Benedict cleared his throat.
“Y/n,” Benedict spoke up, “I think—No, I am quite certain, I love you” He admitted, holding his hand out, bridging the space between your mostly naked bodies, waiting for you to take it.
“I do believe I too am guilty of loving you” You responded, laying your hand gently in his. Leaning to meet in the middle, sharing a sentimental, sweet kiss and smiling into each other. Benedict jumped up, pants still undone around his waist, he pulled you to your feet.
“Come, I should like to draw you” He posed you naturally on the platform in the centre of the room. You watched him scramble about the room, looking for his implements.
“Like this!?” You gestured to yourself, completely nude on the dais.
“Yes, precisely like this” Benedict growled ardently, putting his pencil to his parchment.
--------------------------------------
If you would like to be tagged in any upcoming Bridgerton fanfictions written by me, please let me know and I will add you to a taglist!
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clockwayswrites · 4 months ago
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5 Times the JL Learned Batman was Married and the 1 Time They Met the Spouse.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. + 1
“What is going on?” Batman asked the group as he swept into the room.
John stayed focused on the circle, not wanting to mess up now. It would be a lot of faff for nothing if he did.
“Constantine believes he has a contact to help us with our current issue,” Superman explained. “He is working on the summoning circle now.”
“Is that safe to do on the Watchtower?” Batman asked, as cautious as ever.
“Yeah, mate,” John answered for himself. “This one is a good one. Haven’t met them myself, but real helpful sort of fellow from everything I’ve heard. Or at least real helpful for the things that they can help with.”
Careful not to smudge any lines, John moved backwards out of the circle and gave it a good look over. The rest of the lot were talking about something, but if Batman hadn’t stopped him yet, John figured he was good and intended to keep working. A little slice to his finger, a few drops of blood, the right words, and it was done.
The white markings of the circle seemed to shudder and warp, like the lines on a desert street. Then they snapped a bright green and the inner lines seemed to fall away into an endless void. The void rippled and suddenly a hand reached out of it. The claws made the worst sound as they gripped into the metal floor.
Another hand joined it.
And then the being pulled themselves out of the summoning circle.
John knew better than to try and comprehend what he was seeing. It was all shadow and green flames and fear anyways.
“Who dares to call upon the Ghost King?” the being asked. The voice echoed through the room, through John’s head, through his soul. It sounded like a thousand screaming voices of the dead speaking all at once.
Toxic green eyes in the black mass swept over the group. It was like they were being seen; their souls, their very beings, every aspect of them flayed open and on display for this other worldly entity. John swallowed reflexively when the eyes paused on him for a moment. He wasn’t scared, but there was still a primal part of his brain that said he should run.
Then the gaze landed on Batman and stayed there. Superman stepped forward, slightly, as if to shield Batman from the being’s view.
The being didn’t seem to care and leaned forward up to the edge of the circle. “B?”
Batman inclined his head slightly, “Phantom.”
“Shit. This Justice League approved, huh? Sorry about the dramatics. Usually I only get summoned by cultists who want Pariah Dark, the old king, to give them power or cleanse the world of life or blah blah blah. Best to show up and put the fear of me into them,” the being said, motioning to themselves and all their horror. The reverb of their voice had settled some, now only like a few voices overlapping.
“Understandable,” Batman agreed, seemingly unaffected by it all.
John could only shrug incredulously at Superman’s questioning gaze. Fuck if he knew. Sure, Bats was unflappable, but everyone knew he avoided the supernatural stuff if he could.
The being pulled the last of itself out of the portal which sealed with a sickening squelch. “You could have just called though. Like, I get summoning is a quick way to travel, but it's a little painful."
“Painful?” Batman asked, turning to stare at John, who swallowed nervously at the cold tone.
“Yeah. This was a pretty clean circle though, props to the maker—”
“Thanks, I think?” John mumbled at he watched the being start to shift. It was like watching a black hole collapse in on itself.
“—so it's not that bad, but still it feels like ripping some duct tape off my skin or something,” the being continued. They were much more human shaped now, though they still smiled with an alarming number of very white teeth.
“We'll keep that in mind in the future. I was unaware of who, exactly, they were summoning.”
The rest of the roiling darkness settled on their shoulders like a half cape— one that seemed to hold the infinity of the night sky inside it. The vortex of flames settled into a crown of fire that floated above a head of stark white hair. They flexed their claws and the limbs settled into normal hands that they tucked into pockets of their three piece black suit with its sharp white accents. Then they stepped over the live of what was supposed to be an unbreakable summoning circle.
Like it was just waking through a door.
Like it was nothing.
John took a reflexive step back. This kind of rule breaking shit was exactly why he liked to avoid the Infinite Realms when he could; they were too chaotic to easily manage.
“All good,” they said with a shrug and a fanged smile. “So, what did you need the Ghost King for?”
-
Bruce watched Phantom scan the meeting room as they entered. Their eyes caught, just for a moment, and a million thoughts ran through Bruce’s head. Did he want to do this? Was it time? He trusted the Justice League. They had issues and conflicts, like any group, but they were heroes through and through.
Revealing this also did not mean revealing either of their civilian identities.
The nod was barely any movement at all, but Bruce knew that Phantom had caught it and understood. After so many years together, they hardly needed words, which Bruce often appreciated. Words had never been easy for Bruce. He worked on it for his family. He had to after

Bruce forced himself not to think about that. Danny had saved Jason, even if the resulting years without Danny there were some of the hardest for the family. They were together again and better for it. Bruce let out a careful breath and took his normal seat.
“Thank you for your assistance, King Phantom,” Wonder Woman started. Phantom held up a hand.
“I didn’t say I could assist. I’ll listen and help if I can and see fit, but there are a great many things that are not mine to aid in,” Phantom said sternly, though his voice was carefully kind. “My influence is only over those closely tied to death and of the Infinite Realms. The living are outside of my jurisdiction.”
“Of course,” Superman said quickly as he could without rushing the words. “Listening is a great start. If you’ll take a seat.”
Phantom nodded and strode right past the indicated seat. With a casual ease that Bruce had always envied, Phantom sat on the arm of Bruce’s chair.
“Um, King Phantom, your majesty?” Flash started nervously. “Batman doesn’t really like to be touched?”
“Really?” Phantom asked innocently. Bruce couldn’t see it, but knew exactly the smirk Phantom had as he leaned back to lounge against Bruce’s shoulder. (Bruce loved that smile.)
Bruce schooled his expression as he watched Flash and Hal exchange looks and frantic hand signs to each other.
J’onn tilted his head curiously as he took his own seat. Bruce could see J’onn come to an understanding as his eyes flickered down the the black metal brand around Phantom’s ring finger in the shape of a flying bat.
“Ah,” J’onn said softly.
“Ah? Ah what?” Flash asked, his words almost a whine. “What do you know?”
Bruce rested his hand lightly on Phantom’s hip, well aware that the motion was in sight of both Superman and Wonder Woman.
“Ah,” Wonder Woman said with a little smile. “J’onn knows something we all know, though not in this context. It is good to meet you, Phantom.”
“Good to meet you also, Wonder Woman. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Phantom said as she sat down next to them.
“I wish I could say the same,” she said with a teasing smile directed Bruce’s way.
“Hn.”
Phantom just laughed, the sound echoing like a ringing bell. “It’s okay, I know what B is like. Trust me, that you know anything at all is a big deal. He’s just bad at doing things the normal way.”
Bruce held back a sigh and just pinched Phantom’s side again, making the other squeak and backhand Bruce in the chest.
“Holy shit!” Hal jutted a finger at Phantom. “You’re Batman’s husband!”
“Guilty as charged,” Phantom said.
“Wait, no, you’re what?” Flash asked and zipped closer to the table. “Huh. You are so not what I expected. I mean, I guess ghost plus Spooky works but you’re so
 lively! Wait— is that like, offensive to call the dead lively?”
Phantom laughed again and shook his head. “No, but not everyone in the realms will take it as a compliment. I don’t mind and besides, I’m only half-dead.”
“Half-dead?” Superman asked with his brow furrowed worriedly.
Phantom just waved the concern away. “It’s complicated. Mostly it just means that I still get to live out my human life as simply a human. Ghosts move slower, having eternity and all, so there’s not too much for me to do as the king other than attend to summons and make slow changes.”
“So,” Hal started, ignoring Bruce’s glare and sliding into a seat finally. “You’re married to Batman in your civilian form as well?”
“Of course, it would be silly otherwise,” Phantom said and then added, “and no, I won’t tell you who B is. That’s for him to choose.”
“Okay, but like, we can talk to you, right?” Flash asked, eager as ever.
“Well, I’m here, aren’t I? But work first. What do you think I can help you all with?”
Bruce moved his hand to rest on the small of Phantom’s back and watched his husband command the room like the king he was.
--- AN: and here's the last part! The JL finally meet Batman's husband, or at least once side of him!
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star-sim · 11 months ago
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hello kitty meets batman (real not clickbait!) ☆ jake sim
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☆ youtuber! super down bad! bf! jake x youtuber! fem! reader ☆summary: jake sim was youtube's cut-throat, horror creator, known for his dark video style. meanwhile, you were the cutesy beauty vlogger, lighting up every algorithmically generated home page you touched. no one would have expected you two vastly different people to know each other, let alone be in a long-term relationship. ☆ genre: fluff, youtuber! au, secret dating! au, established relationship, suggestive, im sorry im never letting the ytber au go, cutesy!reader, jake is SO down bad its kinda painful #patheticmen ☆warning(s): no, just fluffy, also reader is really feminine and girly in this ☆ word count: 13.4k words ☆ wrote half of this in spanish class so im sorry if there are mistakes, first time writing established relationship in full, kinda nervy
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Jake Sim was many things.
One of the most popular and well-respected content creators on Youtube was one of them.
As Jake's nimble fingers darted across his keyboard, his other hand rested firmly on his mouth, he thought that the blue light emitting from his computer screen should burn his eyes. Except, it didn't. Despite what most people thought, 90% of being Youtuber was just simply staring at a computer screen, rather than being in front of a camera lens. The man felt his nose prickle before he let out a soundless, but satisfying, yawn. He leaned back against his office chair, stretching his neck and arms before he rubbed his eyes.
There was a reason that he was an extremely respected creator on Youtube.
For one, the production quality of his videos were high. Down to the Closed Captions or his camera's grain, Jake's attention to detail was immaculate. Not to mention, the content itself was magnificent. 
Whenever people asked Jake what he did for work, it was hard for him to answer.
He'd said that he made horror content, but he'd only earned incredulous looks, like he was a madman. Even then, "horror" content wasn't the correct description.
In short, Jake liked to make videos about obscure things. Which just so happened to be a little spooky. Sketchy true crime cases, searches for lost media, strange Internet phenomena, government cover-ups— Name anything a little bit eerie and Jake probably already covered something of that sort on his channel. Given the nature of his content, Jake almost always maintained a serious tone, but when the opportunity came to offer his opinion, he liked to relay it in a straightforward way. 
Another reason why he was so regarded was because of his content style. He preferred using darker colors, having a crisp microphone that picked up every rasp of his deeper voice. When he had camera shots, Jake liked to be in a dimly lit room. Unfortunately, his room was dark, too. 
This all combined together to create a singular image for Jake: the cool, high-quality, but a little bit scary, guy that likes to make videos about scary topics.
Now cracking his knuckles, Jake sucked in a sharp breath. Although he could easily export his upcoming video now and upload it, garnering millions of views, he refused to. There was something missing from it; it needed a little umph, a little embellishment to really pull things together. If there was one thing about Jake, it was that he'd put quality over quantity any day.
Jake is torn out of his thoughts when his phone, long forgotten next to his mouse, lit up. Usually, when he worked long afternoons like this, he silenced his phones in order to maintain focus.
However, there was always one exception.
You.
pretty girl: hi babe, do you think you can help me take promo pictures later?
The moment that Jake saw your contact show up, he picked up his phone immediately. His fingers tapped his screen, quickly responding to you.
me: yeah i can do it rn if you want
pretty girl: if youre busy, it doesn't need to be today, it can be tomorrow or something
pretty girl: oh
pretty girl: are you sure?
Of course he was.
Jake was already shutting off his monitor, grabbing his keys and shoving his feet into his shoes at your first message.
me: yeah i'll come over right now
You were Jake Sim's girlfriend. But other than the people in your personal life, no one else knew that.
Not that either of you minded.
Like Jake, you were a Youtuber. Except, your community was the complete opposite from his.
Your niche was cute makeup and lifestyle. Your videos had cute, blushy sets, characterized by cute plushies in the background and pretty, pink decorations. When you weren't making makeup tutorials or "get ready with me's," you were giving your viewers small sneak-peeks into your life. Whether it be your rosy morning skincare, or your sunny afternoon cooking attempts, or your illuminated late night thoughts, your content was light-hearted, soft, and personable. 
And if you weren't doing any of those things, you were modeling.
You were a beauty influencer, so you had sponsors from different makeup companies and such. What was most distinguishable from your personal brand was that you were one of Sanrio's biggest ambassadors. If there was someone that was the living embodiment of Hello Kitty, it was you.
Your personability, and your ability to feel authentic to your viewers, was a key factor in your large viewerbase. And what contributed to that the most was the fact that you had no idea how to use a camera. One would think that a content creator would know how to use a camera, but you were somehow the exception.
Not a problem!
Because you had your boyfriend, Jake!
Who was basically the master of content creation and film, in your opinion.
"Jakey!" you pounced on your boyfriend the moment he appeared at your apartment doorway. You threw your arms around his neck, immediately peppering his neck and cheeks with kisses. You heard him let out a few chuckles, feeling the rumble of his strong chest as he did. 
"Geez, babe, let me take my shoes off first," Jake teased you, taking in your sweet strawberry perfume. You immediately peeled yourself off of him, your lips forming a cute frown. 
"Shut up," you murmured, punching him on the arm while you jutted your bottom lip out. The lip tint and gloss on them shined, which made Jake grin. And when you noticed that he was staring at your lips, you gave him a gentle shove before saying again, “Shut up, Jakey.”
There it was, his favorite thing about you.
You were so, very, really, undeniably, mean to him.
Okay, that sounded weird.
But it was the truth.
Your relationship could be summed up in a few words—
You were just the cutest, and could barely contain your feelings for Jake, so you'd get all cuddly and affectionate with him. He'd tease you about it, so you'd get all shy and flustered, and you would begin to be mean to him. You'd call him stupid or annoying, and you'd tell him to go away but make no effort to resist his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you against his chest. And then he would get to tease you more, until you were so embarrassed that you relented and let him kiss you.
How could he not resist teasing you?
You were always so pretty, with makeup or not, and it was easy to tease you since you got embarrassed so easily.
Even if he was holding his most expensive camera in his hands, he'd still let you pounce on him, if it meant that he got one extra kiss from you.
You led him to your bedroom. It had the same sweet, strawberry scent as you. Your room was pink, and along the walls were shelves, all filled with the many, many plushies that Jake bought you. Plopping onto your bed, Jake watched as you dug around your filming desk.
"Sooo," he started, "You're gonna do a promotional post on Instagram?"
You hummed. Sanrio recently launched a new line of lip tints, and they sent you their newest ones to review and promote. 
"I already made a review, and it's going to go up later," you said, digging through your drawers. "I want to make a promo post, too, y'know?"
You let out an 'a-ha!' as you found what you were looking for. It was a tube of lip-tint, the newest one from the collection. You then touched up your makeup a little more. 
Jake watched you in awe. The way you applied lip gloss and brushed setting powder (or was it blush? he didn't know anything about makeup) onto your cheeks was so mesmerizing, as you weren't already so captivating to him.
Finally, you stood up, straightening out your outfit. You puckered your lips, and when you noticed Jake staring at you, you gave him a little twirl.
"How do I look?" you asked. 
Jake, with his camera in hand, pointed the lens at you. He looked through the viewfinder.
"Beautiful." 
As always.
The shoot went smoothly. As you always did when Jake was your photographer, the two of you drove to the film studio, renting out a room for a good hour. Jake was a pro with the camera and you were an even bigger pro at modeling. Other than a few compositional edits or changes in exposure, you and Jake were done as soon as you started. The two of you decided that you’d go back to your place, cook dinner together, and maybe watch a movie.
Except that got delayed.
“Y-You’re so annoying, Jake,” you struggled out. You were in the back seat of your car, legs thrown over your boyfriend’s hips, his soft lips connected to your neck. Your fingers gently tugged on his hair, you yourself pressing soft pecks against his forehead and temples. It started because you gave Jake a kiss on the cheek as a ‘thank you,’ which spiraled into a makeout session in your car.
“What,” he breathed against your skin, dark eyes flickering up to yours. “You said you’d do anything to express your thanks for me.”
Jake kissed your neck again, before trailing up your throat to your jaw. Your fingers raked through his soft hair, pushing his dark locks out of his face so that you could see his face clearly. Jake reached up, took your hand out of his hair, and instead held your palm against his cheek, nuzzling into your warm hand. The way your eyes widened into saucers, lips parting, in response made the man’s lips curve upward.
“W-Well I thought you’d ask me to hug you
 or something,” you said sheepishly, your voice soft as your boyfriend’s actions flustered you.
Jake grinned to himself internally before pulling away from you altogether. 
“Then do you want to stop?” Your eyes widened a fraction. “Then, let’s go hom—“
“No!” you cut him off, your hands squeezing his shoulders. “Let’s not!”
You stared at him, brows furrowed, for a few moments, before you noticed the growing grin on your boyfriend’s face. That look you knew too well, the one that said that he was going to tease the everlasting fuck out of you.
Jake pulled you in by the waist, close enough so that your chests touched, noses almost brushing against each other. He could feel the heat radiating off your face, and you could hear the smile in his voice.
“You sure you don’t wanna stop?” His voice was teasing, but you knew better. The earnest look in his eyes, you stared into yours, was filled with sincerity. He gave your waist a squeeze, almost as if to ask, “Do you actually want this?”
“Yes, Jakey,” you breathed against his lips, matter-of-factly. “I don’t wanna stop.”
The corner of his lips begin to lift.
“So you better kiss me,” you quipped, gripping his shoulders.
“Thought you’d never ask,” he rasped back, before attacking your lips.
(Later, when you were done, you two went home and went about your plan for the night. Except, you had to yell at Jake to go wash his face, because the sight of your lipstick at the corner of his lips was too much for you to take.)
"Hi, everyone!" you greeted the camera, folding your hands in your lap. With your thick, pink, knit sweater's sleeves falling over your wrists, you shot the lens a pretty smile. It was another normal day on the job of making content.
"As you guys know, VidCon is coming up soon." You pulled your makeup pouch toward your chest, leaning against the edge of your filming desk. "So, let's pack with me!"
Vidcon was an event for people to meet all of their favorite Youtubers. This year, you were invited to be one of the featured creators, given your popularity. As you filmed your "Pack with Me!" vlog, surrounded by ring lights aided by your windows cracked open, you recalled the email you had sent earlier, squeezing your eyes shut.
You see, Jake and you were both invited to VidCon. Since no one else, not even Youtube the corporation or your fellow Youtubers, knew that you guys were dating, Jake and you were given vastly different things. Youtube booked an entire hotel complex for all of its creators, and unfortunately, your room was located 10 floors below Jake's room. And worse, your booths and events were so far apart from each other that you probably wouldn't even see your boyfriend even if he decided to traverse the Convention. 
That's what you got for being vastly different content creators.
This year would be the first year that you and Jake got invited to VidCon, and you two wanted to share this experience with each other as much as possible.
Which is why you just shot Youtube one of the most embarrassing emails of your life.
"Hi, Youtube. The hotel complex you booked has a bar, and it is much closer to the top than the bottom. I really want to visit that bar. Can I request a room change so that my room is maybe on the 15th or 16th floors?" except add more formalities and much more discreet language, and that was the email you sent to your employers. You knew that it wouldn't be hard, and that the Youtube PR manager wouldn't reject your request. After all, you were the Sanrio beauty girl. Regardless, you'd gotten a response about an hour ago, and your request was approved, luckily. 
As you continued talking to your camera, folding your clothes neatly while chatting to your viewers about updates in your life, you thought about what you and Jake should do at VidCon. It was in the LA area, but you definitely wanted to visit other places in Southern California. 
It was no surprise that you and Jake had been more than touchy and close to each other. You were dating. Still, butterflies formed in your stomach as you thought about what you would do with him. Your face heated up at the thought of you and him spending time together in the hotel's rooftop hot-tub. The idea of him sneaking in your room at night, warming you up and pepperinging your cheeks with kisses, made your heart rate speed up, and you could only relish in the thought of exploring LA, Irvine, or wherever Jake wanted to take you with him.
You were a grown woman with a job and responsibilities, but the mere thought of your boyfriend being within the same vicinity as you made you nervous.
Just as you finished folding your clothes, you heard your front door crack open.
"Babe?" you hear Jake's voice call out your name. You turn off your camera to greet him, swearing to forget all of the thoughts you just had. Except, the moment that you locked eyes with him, all determination to not be teased left your body. Your lips wobbled, trying to bite back that stupid, bashful, and lovesick smile that made its way onto your face when you thought about Jake, but your eyes gave it all away. Instead of throwing yourself at him like you usually did, you only reached for the hem of his black T-shirt, playing with it sheepishly. 
You mumbled a small, "Hi."
You could feel Jake staring at you, and you could hear the way his lips curve into a smug, shit-eating grin.
"Shut up," you told him, your eyebrows crashing together.
"Baby, I didn't even say anything," Jake said, his hands finding their place on your lower back.
You felt shy and exposed before him. "Well, I know you're going to say something."
Jake grasped your chin, gently making you look at him. You tried to avoid his eyes, but it was impossible to avoid those dreamy, caramel eyes. Then, he took your face with both his hands, leaning in.
Was he going to kiss you? Oh my god, he was! Quick! What do you do? You felt like you were going to melt.
Instinctively, your hands tightened on the hem of his shirt, the black fabric scrunching in your fists. You closed your eyes, your lips softly puckering. You could feel him coming closer and closer, until his breath fanned your cheek.
As if he hadn't kissed you a million times before, your heart felt like it was going to fall out of your chest. 
Jake ghosted his lips over yours, inching just close enough that he could brush his lip against yours. 
And then, he pulled away from you. He took off his shoes, placed down his keys, and made his way into your bedroom, leaving you there standing alone.
Heat spread across your face and neck and ears as you realized your boyfriend had just teased you once again. You hid your face in your palms, letting out a small whine of embarrassment, before recollecting yourself and joining your boyfriend.
"Woah, what's going on here, babe?" Jake asked, standing at your bedroom doorway. 
"Oh." There was clothes and film equipment sprawled across your floor and bed. "I was filming a video."
You saw Jake's expression twitch, before he took your hands in his.
"My bad, was I interrupting something?" He was sincere in how his face showed a small drop of guilt for disrupting your filming. How could someone be such a tease one moment yet be so genuine the next?
"No, it's okay, Jakey," you said. "I mean, I need to finish my video, but I don't mind if you're around."
And that's how you found yourself trying not to burst out laughing as you filmed your video. Jake kept making funny faces at you, that goofy grin growing on his face as he wiggled his eyebrows at you.
"Jake, stop making faces!" you laughed, throwing a shirt at him.
He dodged it, throwing his head back into one of the plushies that he bought you. "I'm not doing anything!"
You threw another shirt at him, this time hitting him square in the face. Instead of admitting defeat, Jake only grabbed your shirt, pulling the fabric to his nose and taking a long, dramatic, sniff. 
"You smell sooooo good, babe," he said, ignoring your contorted expression, "I think I'm gonna keep this. You won't mind, right?"
"Ugh, Jaaaaakee!"
You plopped on top of him in bed. You felt his chest rumble as chuckles left his lips, rolling your eyes at him. You gave his chest a smack, a pout forming on your lips.
"You're so annoying," you mumbled as his hands slithered up to your hips. He gave your ass a pat, gesturing you to adjust your position. You did, sitting up so that you straddled your boyfriend's hips.
"And you're so pretty," he said, squeezing your hipbone.
"Let go of me," you poked him in the chest, but made no attempt to get off of him. 
"No."
"I need to finish my video," you pouted, still not moving to get off of him. 
"I don't care." Jake instead sat up on his elbows, his hands sliding down to your lower back, his face getting suspiciously close to your boobs. "Just lay with me."
Your fingers ran through his dark locks, before giving them a tug towards your chest. Jake laid his cheek against your boobs like they were pillows, arms wrapped around your waist. You could feel his hot breath against your skin and neck. The next thing you knew, he was pressing sticky kisses against your chest and neck, soft gasps escaping your lips.
"Sorry, babe," he muttered against the shell of your ear, "I just can't resist you."
You let out a soft "ahhh!" when he bit down on your skin, his teeth brushing against the nape of your neck. Jake briefly pulled away, a smirk making its way onto his face as he admired the red-purple mark on your neck. 
"You're just too addicting."
Long story short, your video was still finished and uploaded. As Jake edited his video, he let yours play in the background, your bright voice illuminating his dark room. Somehow, your voice was the only thing that made him focus. 
However, when he heard a familiar laugh— his laugh— in your video, Jake stopped in his tracks.
His mind flashed back to what happened the other day in your apartment, when he interrupted you during your filming.
"I don't know if I turned off my camera, Jake," you had purred as Jake's tongue dipped into your collarbone. At that point, both you and him were shirtless, hair disheveled and pupils blown out with desire. Jake remembered the electricity that ran through him as those words left your lips.
"Am I supposed to care?" he had muttered, trailing kisses down your chest. "If they hear us, that's not my problem."
It was almost like you, who edited your video, added that clip to tease him. 
Immediately, his cheeks began turning the brightest shade of red possible. If you were here, he would have only coughed and looked away shyly, but since he was alone, his embarrassment spread across his face like a wildfire. Jake almost never showed it when he was flustered, at least when he was around you. 
He hid his face in his palms, sucking in a sharp breath. He squeezed his eyes shut, warmth prickling his skin. You were going to be the death of him. He let out a small, lovesick giggle, one that his friends would flame him for. He couldn't help it, not if it was you. 
When he read the comments, still flustered out of his mind, he felt a twinge of disappointment when no one seemed to notice him. 
For some reason, Jake couldn’t help but want people to know that you were his. He knew that you and him kept your relationship private to preserve it, but he still wanted to show you off.
Except, one comment caught his eye.
“Wait, does [Name] have a boyfriend? Who laughed at 6:34?” it read. Jake’s heart skipped a beat in his chest. The warmth that spread across his chest as his lips pulled upwards. He almost wanted to jump on his bed and roll around while giggling like a schoolgirl, but he contained himself.
At the corner of his eye, Jake spotted a certain plushie. 
As you were a partner of Sanrio, for a time there was a Limited Edition [Name] plushie, clad in pink with a cute, ruffle-lace bow to top it all off. Of course he bought one the moment it launched. Jake preferred his room to be completely dark and black, but he liked to keep that plushie on his bed, and although he’d never admit it, he hugged it when he slept if you weren’t with him.
Would it be wrong of him to tease you back? After all, Jake still had to film the brand deal for his new video. 
Would it hurt to position the plushie just enough so that it was in frame? 
So that maybe someone would see it.
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Vidcon came crashing on you and Jake like a meteor, and before the two of you knew it, you were in the venue, wringing your fingers as the event commenced.
Sometimes, it was difficult for you to comprehend the level of your popularity. Sure, the numbers that Youtube loved to display for you told you that you had millions watching you, but mere numerical figures were simply not enough for you to wrap your mind around.
Your schedule that day was simple: you were going to have a booth that you'd tend to for an hour or two, where your fans could take pictures with you and take a few freebies with them. Then, you'd go to your main event, which was in a smaller venue.
At your booth, where you sat currently, your personal table was set up in a very special way: your table was pink, and covered in a lacy, white tablecloth. Even the wall behind you was specifically painted pink and decorated with various Sanrio-esque decorations. You had stickers that you'd give out, as well as a Limited Edition Vidcon Sanrio plushie of you that people could buy. The pink polaroid decorated with Hello Kitty stickers hung around your neck with a pink lanyard. You genuinely looked like Sanrio and Hello Kitty vomited all over you, but you didn't mind. And plus, that didn't matter, because you were cute either way.
You were hit with pure surprise as multiple groups of fans came your way. The amount of people that came to you, rambling nervously about how much they loved you, how much they looked up to you, how much you inspired them and made their days better, made you feel light-headed. And very warm inside.
Jake was the one that did the talking for you (thank goodness!), but for some reason, you pushed through your usual shyness, instead wanting for people to come up to you and talk.
Your face lit up as one of your fans, a girl that looked around your age, maybe only a few years younger than you, approached you. You could tell by the Sanrio sticker of you on her phone case that she was most definitely here for you.
"Oh my gosh, hi [Name]!" She gazed at you with wide, glimmering eyes. 
Your initial reaction was surprise, but then you broke out into a smile. You cocked your head, fingers gripping the hem of your dress, both nervous and excited. "Hi, there."
You fan took one look at your face, and squealed. The way that she giggled, bouncing on her feet as she fangirled over you made warmth spread across your cheeks, getting shy and looking down briefly.
"I'm sorry, [Name]!" Your fan couldn't stop giggling, which you thought was very cute. It was now that you noticed the camera in your hand. "I just really love your content, and I'm just so excited to meet you in real life!"
You blinked at her a few times, before you smile only widened. 
"Don't worry about it!" you said, taking her free hand in yours. Your shyness melted away as your fan squealed again. "It really means a lot to me that you came out here to personally see me."
Your eyes flickered over to her camera, squeezing her hand and motioning to it with your other. "Can I...?"
She nodded enthusiastically, so you took her camera. Turn on the 'photo' setting, you posed for the camera, taking multiple pictures of yourself for her. You hoped that that would make up for your shyness. The two of you hugged, and you took many polaroids for her.
Almost immediately, after she left, you were tagged in a Twitter thread. It was that fan, reporting her experience with you.
"She was so much prettier in real life, I thought I was in heaven," her tweets detailed, "And [Name] was so sweet! It felt like I was meeting the real life Hello Kitty."
She posted the pictures you took on her camera, and then the videos. You couldn't help but grin like an idiot, especially at the comments (and the rapidly-accumulating likes and retweets).
"The way [Name] gets so shy is so cute!"
"I don't really watch beauty content but I love [Name] so much."
"She's like an actual Disney Princess."
You loved your fans, you really did. You were grateful for them, and you thought they were very cute. 
You were excited to see how Vidcon would treat you.
Jake was fighting.
He was fighting demons, wars, the little voices in his head.
Did you have to look so pretty today?
Jake's own event was an entire venue away from yours. He had a few events, so after his first one, he took a small break, where he looked through his notifications. 
Of course, the first thing he looked at was your texts. They were from a while ago, during his show when he didn't have his phone on him, so he responded to them now. He smiled at your cute texts, expressing how excited and happy you were. His heart jumped out of his chest when he saw the selfie you sent him: there you were, in all your cutesy Sanrio glory, smiling so prettily for him. Jake had to clasp his face to hide the stupid, love-struck grin that bled onto his face. 
"Oi, what're you giggling about?" Jake was interrupted by Jay, another one of his fellow horror Youtubers.
Jake immediately wiped his expression clean. "Nothing."
When he glanced back at his phone, that dumb grin began to form again.
Jay groaned. "This is so weird. It's like watching Batman smile."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Jake scoffed.
"I'm sayin' that you're basically Youtube's Batman," Jay scrunched his nose, "And it's weird seein' you all... smiley and stuff."
"I literally smiled earlier!"
"Not in the way that you did just now. I have a bad feeling about it."
"Shut up!"
Jake really tried his best to swallow back his pure admiration for you as he opened his phone screen again, but he failed miserably.
He wished he could see you right now. He loved to see his fans, he loved to talk to them about their shared interest: all things horror and obscure.
But Jake missed you right now.
His heart plummeted to his stomach, however, when he logged onto Twitter, and saw the worst hashtag he could ever think of: #[Name]isSoCute.
He agreed with it. No, he embraced that sentiment with every molecule in his being.
Just... he wished that he could see you right now. When he checked the tag and saw all the cute pictures that people took of you and the sweet experiences they had with you, he frowned— That should be him!
However, Jake actually saw the worst thing to ever materialize when he saw the top video under the tag.
It was a shaky video, starting off with a teenage boy walking up to you. In the background, he could hear your pretty voice in the background, exchanging small greetings and words with the poster. Jake was almost lost in his sheer love for you when his eyes narrowed. The boy in the video let out a little chuckle, before dropping a cheesy pick-up line on you.
"[Name], if you were a vegetable, you'd be a cute-cumber." What made it worse was that you only giggled, leading the boy to drop a few other dumb pick-up lines. The camera panned up to you, showing you all smiley and bashful. Then, you and the boy hugged, before taking a few polaroids together.
Jake almost snapped his phone in half.
He understood better than anyone that you were a content creator just like him. It was part of the job to interact with fans, and given your character, of course you were sweet to them. He could tell that you were perfectly comfortable in the video, and that the kid probably was just joking around with his favorite Youtuber.
But did that stop Jake from mentally lambasting every single aspect of the video? Absolutely not.
Shaky camera, probably filmed on a phone, Jake's hands balled into fists, Fucked up aperture, exposure to low, bad mic.
Was he being a little immature? Yes, and Jake knew that. 
Though, Jake would admit that he agreed with a lot of comments and retweets under that post, hearting many of them in agreement.
"[Name] is such a cutie!" one read.
Absolutely.
"I love her so much," another read.
Me too, Jake thought.
"I want her so bad."
Just as Jake's finger hovered over the 'heart' button, he let out a small hmph. Did it annoy him that other people wanted you? Yes. But did he disagree with the comment? Nope. He pressed the "like" button.
He wanted to see you so bad. As Jake was queued up on stage, ready for his second event, he hoped that he could see you soon.
And his wish came true a few hours later.
It was now past noon, and Vidcon was in its (unofficial) intermission period, where a lot of the creators were now taking breaks. As Jake traversed the convention, he texted you trying to find a spot where the two of you could meet.
He passed the many booths and venues of his fellow Youtubers. The layout was unique in the way that Youtubers of similar genres were placed in similar areas. So when he started seeing Youtubers with bright makeup and problematic pasts, Jake knew that he was near you.
And lo and behold, soon he found you. Under the fluorescent light, you still glowed. There was some kind of halo around you as you turned over your shoulder, your face instantly brightening up as you spotted your boyfriend. You had a few fans that you were talking to at the moment, so you tended to them first, while Jake made his way over to you.
You and Jake agreed that you wouldn't make your relationship too obvious at Vidcon, but all of that was left forgotten the moment that Jake saw you. 
However, as you ran up to him, people couldn't help but stop and stare.
Why wouldn't they? You were the living embodiment of Sanrio, that one Hello Kitty girl, whereas Jake was that one guy that made scary content and was often shrouded in darkness, dubbed as Youtube's personal Batman. Absolutely no one would have expected to see the two of you interacting with one another, let alone be within the same vicinity.
"Hi, Jakey," you smiled up at him, and Jake thought that he could die right there. With the amount of people staring, Jake had to restrain himself from throwing his arms around you and hugging you.
"Hey, baby," he grinned. 
Before either of you could do anything, you and Jake were interrupted by a shrill squeal. You whipped your heads around to see a young girl and her older brother, who still looked relatively young. They explained nervously that the girl liked your content, while the brother liked Jake's content. They were expecting to scour in order for each of them to meet either of you, but were surprised to see you and Jake in one place.
You and Jake took a few pictures with them, both individually. Though, the two of them requested a picture with both you and Jake in the same frame, which you happily did.
When they left, you and Jake shared a look, before going off together.
Vidcon Day 1: Over.
Jake returned to his hotel room, too tired to do anything other than wash up and order room service. 
As Jake laid in his half-hard hotel mattress, he scrolled through his phone. He was tagged in a lot of pictures and tweets, and he found himself grinning at a lot of the sweet words his fans left. Although he was tired, he could definitely do this a few more times, feeling invigorated by his fans.
As he scrolled, the trending Twitter hashtag caught his eye.
#HelloKittyMeetsBatman.
Interesting name, he thought as he clicked on it.
Jake's heart skipped a beat as he saw what came up.
Apparently, people were extremely surprised to see you and Jake so close to each other. 
There were so many pictures of you and him taken together from afar just from that one instance earlier, from multiple different angles and distances. Jake would admit, the way he was dressed in all black while you were dressed in cute pinks and whites was almost laughable.
What truly caught his attention were the captions of all these pictures.
"Craziest crossover of 2024."
"I'm crying they legitimately look like Hello Kitty and Batman."
"Jake Sim and [Name] interacting was not on my Vidcon 2024 bingo card."
"This is like seeing two worlds collide, absolutely wild but I'm pleasantly surprised."
For the most part, it seemed like everyone just thought that you and Jake were friends, but it was still a little funny how taken aback the entire internet was.
Then, he saw the picture of you, him, and those two kids together. 
"They look like a family," was one of the most popular retweets under that post. 
Family.
That word rang through Jake's head, before he buried his face in one of the pillows, giggling to himself. He felt a little ridiculous getting so excited over such a small comment, but he couldn't help it. He felt so giddy inside at the thought of having a family with you, and felt even giddier knowing that people could see it, too.
Suddenly, his phone rang. Jake wasn't going to answer it, too caught up in his flustered-ness, but when he realized that it was you, he quickly cleared his throat, instinctively straightening out his hair (because what if he accidentally turns on his camera?-- he needed to look good for you!).
"Baby," he greeted suavely, as if he wasn't just giggling like a schoolgirl seconds ago.
Maybe it was the fact that it was already getting late, or the fact that Jake barely saw you today, or the fact that you were just so goddamn perfect, but your voice sounded so attractive in that moment.
"Jakeyyy," you whined. "Come over."
His chest was already throbbing but Jake played it cool.
He chuckled. "What for?"
"I miss you," he could hear the pout in your voice. "And I want your attention."
It was rare for you to be so direct with him, and while Jake wanted to melt on the spot, he wanted to tease you a bit longer.
"What's wrong with just being on the phone with me?" Jake's lips pulled into a smirk. "You can just talk to me like this."
"Noooo," you said. "I want— I want you."
Jake tried his best to not crumble then and there, but it was too hard.
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath. "Okay then, baby. I'll come over right now."
He didn't miss the cute little "yay!" you let out before you hung up.
You were going to be the death of him.
"Eep! Jake, what are you doing here—?!”
You’re cut off when you realized that you were, in fact, backstage of one of your events. Today was the second day of Vidcon, and you had just finished up your first event. As you went backstage, carrying the little bags of gifts that your fans got you, you didn’t expect your own boyfriend to be waiting back there for you.
“Hey there, Princess,” he said cheekily, sprawled across the backstage couch. "Miss me?"
He opened his arms up, and you instinctively crawled into them, sitting on his lap and sliding your arms around his neck. 
As you did, you eyed him up and down.
Clad in black as always, he wore a black button-up, paired with black slacks, a black belt, and a loose, black tie. That's right: today, Jake was going to have a panel with a whole bunch of other horror creators, ones that transcended the internet— authors, authors that Jake spent his whole life reading and looking up to, which explained why he was dressed significantly more proper today than yesterday.
The way his shirt fit his chest and hugged his shoulders made it hard for you to not stare, and the way that it wasn't buttoned at the top, revealing his honey-tan collarbones, mixed with the scent of his rich cologne, made you feel dizzy.
"Ay, are you checkin' me out?"
On any other day, you'd be embarrassed, maybe even pushing him away, but today, you only nodded your head, humming mindlessly in agreement.
Jake blinked at you, before he pulled you in by the waist so that you were flushed against his chest completely.
"Kiss me," you mumbled, pushing his dark bangs away from his face.
Jake chuckled, rubbing your cheek with his knuckles. "What's with you these days? Getting so bold."
You only leaned into his touch. Maybe it was sometime in the LA air, or maybe it was the vigor that your fans gave you earlier, but all you could do was look at your boyfriend with glossy, wide eyes innocently, watching the way that his resolve trembled.
"Shit," Jake cursed under his breath. "Hold on—"
He grabbed your hips, then tilted your chin so that he could have a better angle. Your lips crashed into one another. Not in the way that a meteor would crash into Earth's delicate atmosphere, but in the way that gentle sea waves crashed onto themselves, dark folds of blue creasing over each other, only to brush up against the foamy seashore, none the wiser. 
Jake liked the taste of your lip gloss; it tasted sweet, but not nearly as sweet as you, hungrily squeezing your hips in his hands. He swiped his tongue over your bottom lip, earning a squeal from you, who tugged on his hair. 
When you pulled away from each other, you were breathless, chests heaving not for air, but for each other. You stared at each other for a few moments, losing time in each other's eyes, when your eyes trailed down.
God, the button-up and tie were going to drive you crazy.
Without thought, your fingers twirled around his tie, slinking up his chest before you yanked him harshly, jerking Jake toward you abruptly. 
In a moment of pure, unadulterated boldness, you attacked his neck, laying sticky kisses all across his skin. One hand laced itself in Jake's hair, keeping a firm hold of his tilted head, while your other hand crept around the buttons of his shirt. 
Each soft sigh that Jake let out made you only press more kisses on him. When he let out one particularly loud whine, his arm jerking up to grab at the couch's armrest, you knew that you found the sensitive spot on his neck. You pressed another kiss on that spot, this time sinking your teeth into his skin. The hickey was dark and purple, and when you ran your tongue over it, Jake's hands shot to your hips again.
"Shit, [Name], wait a sec—"
Skillfully, your fingers began to slowly unbutton Jake's shirt, just enough that you could see more of his chest. 
Your head was feeling fuzzy now, drunk off your desire for him. The way he threw his head back, his Adam's apple bobbing with each gulp of air he took in, curses falling from his lips, sent electricity coursing through your body.
When you unbuttoned the last button, you noticed the way Jake's eyes were squeezed shut, his other arm resting over them, hands balled into fists as his desperation for you increased.
"Jakey," you said. Jake was going to go mad, the way your voice was so soft and innocent as it said his name, all the while you were kissing and touching him in ways that made him go light-headed. He squeezed his eyes shut, another whimper escaping his lips. If he looked you in the eye right now, he was sure that he'd burst. "I want you to look at me."
He couldn't refuse you. Immediately, he opened his eyes, the arm strewn over his face dropping back to its position on your hips.
If he didn't die by combustion, Jake was certain that he'd die now— Your pupils were blown out, eyes lidded and staring at him like he was your prey to be slaughtered. He'd seen you wrought with desire so many times before, but the way you gazed at him like he was a piece of meat, like you were going to absolutely ruin him, made him feel weak.
"Watch me, Jakey," your voice sounded so sweet, but your actions said otherwise. You abruptly got up from your seat on his lap, Jake frowning at the loss of your touch. You dug through your purse thrown across the room, returning with a tube of lipstick.
You plopped back onto Jake's lap, making sure that he was watching as you applied it to your pretty, swollen lips. 
Then, you discarded it, throwing your lipstick to the side as you snatched his tie again. You brought the black fabric to your lips, staring your boyfriend down as you pressed kisses on his tie. You kissed it a few times, making sure that the color of your lipstick, as well as the shape of your lips, was well-imprinted on it.
Then, you yanked his shirt's collar toward you, pressing a harsh kiss on the fabric, making sure that the shape of your lips was once again imprinted on the fabric.
You looked back up at his face, unable to hide your smugness as his entire expression was painted with red.
"You're so hot—" Jake attempted to force out of his throat, but you only cut him off with a rough kiss to his lips. Without a word, you covered his face, from his forehead to his jaw, with kisses.
You pulled back to admire your work, before you pulled away from him.
"I have to be on stage in a few minutes," you said quietly, your back turned to him as you straightened out your skirt. Dumbfounded, Jake could only stare at you, but when you turned over your shoulder, flashing him a bright, but terribly cheeky, grin, Jake's heart fell out of chest. "I can't be late, right?"
With that, you left your boyfriend, all hot and bothered, on the couch, running off to prepare for your next event.
Almost immediately, Jake melted. He threw an arm over his eyes as he leaned back, letting out a groan.
Was this how you felt when he teased you?
Was he now sexually frustrated? Absolutely. But now he wanted you even more.
After mulling over it for a few minutes, Jake began to go back to his venue. But, as he passed the backstage vanity, he caught sight of himself in the mirror.
Some of it was obvious to him already: disheveled hair, messed up shirt. But what made Jake want to evaporate was the sight of his entire face and neck covered in lipstick marks. The corner of his lip had a big lipstick smudge, the hickey that you gave him earlier was so dark now, and he couldn't even dare to forget your lip imprints on his shirt and tie.
You little tease.
Jake's last straw was.... right now.
After the backstage fiasco, he didn't get to see you all day. That night, you had a PR event to attend with your fellow beauty creators, so he didn't get to see you at night either.
Which was why Jake was practically glowing with a dark and negative storm cloud as he pranced around the third day of Vidcon. It didn't help that he saw so many pictures of you and fans all across platforms. Poor guy almost lost it when one of your fans' vlogs blew up, the most replayed part being when you let out the most angelic and sweet laughs he'd ever heard in his life.
That should be him!
Meanwhile, Jake sat in the convention room at a panel. Lined up along the table were other horror creators, from authors to Youtubers to filmmakers, similar to yesterday. The way that this specific event operated was simple: fans got to ask anyone on the panel questions and they'd answer, which the entire room got to hear, and later there would be one-on-ones along the panel.
Jake was pulled out of his thoughts when one of the fans said that they had a question for him.
"Jake, your videos take a long time to make, how do you balance work and your personal life?"
Good question. He had a simple principle when it came to how to balance everything. Jake thought about it for a moment, before reaching for his microphone.
"I don't have any outright method," he began. Jake's mind flashed with your image: all the cute messages you'd send him throughout the day, all the times where after hours of rotting in front of his computer screen he could always count on your loving embrace to give him life, all times that he'd tune into your Spotify playlist so that he could be listening to what you were listening. It was easy to balance work and life, if it was you. "But I always put my life before the screen."
The room was quiet, intently listening to what Jake had to say. After all, he was renowned all across the Internet.
The room was quiet, intently listening to what Jake had to say. After all, he was renowned all across the Internet.
"To be clear, I understand the privilege of getting to work in a profession like mine," Jake continued. "I don't expect everyone to be able to follow my advice exactly, but the more I live, the more I realize that what happens before my very eyes will endlessly matter so much more than what happens in my own little Youtube bubble."
Jake's mouth jumped to you faster than his mind could stop him.
"My beautiful girlfriend is everything to me," he unconsciously began to grin stupidly to himself, "I'd put her above work any day if I had to."
The moment that those words left his lips, the room erupted with gasps and whispers.
"Wait, you have a girlfriend?!" one of Jake's Youtuber friends asked, leading the room to laugh.
Oh.
Shit.
Jake's eyes visibly widened. He clutched his microphone, bringing it up to his mouth, but no words came out.
There was no way in hell that he'd outright deny you, not even in a million years.
"I.... Well..." Jake stammered, trying his best to generate any words at all. He sucked in a sharp breath, a bashful expression making its way onto his face. "That's..."
The room filled with more laughter, alongside the teasing grins and pats on the back that Jake got from his colleagues.
"Oh, so that's what you were giggling about yesterday, lover boy..." Jay, also on the panel, quipped, his brows raised so high on his forehead that it could have touched his hairline.
"Sh-Shut up, Jay!"
Jake's chest felt fizzy. In a weird way.
A part of him felt on-edge. You and him always wanted to keep your relationship secret, for the sake of preserving it. He'd seen what the Internet did to relationships: it tore them apart. It wasn't like he name-dropped you, but he felt so... exposed, so vulnerable.
But at the same time, Jake felt his chest also swell with pride. That's right. He had a girlfriend (a hot girlfriend at that), a girlfriend that he was nefariously down bad for. He hoped everyone knew that, that he was taken and that if there was anyone that he'd spend the rest of his life with, it would be you.
Jake huffed. "Yeah, I have a girlfriend. What about it?"
No one questioned him further. Probably out of fear.
You were in the middle of trying your best to get through a conversation with some beauty guru that you knew one thing about: their personal makeup line launch failed horribly and they gave everyone hairy lipsticks. It was difficult, to say the least.
Exchanging your final regards, you quickly rushed back to your booth.
The first thing you saw when you checked your phone was a viral video, in which Jake admitted that he had a girlfriend. Your heart plummeted to your stomach when you initially read the caption, but when you watched the video, you had a difficult time processing your feelings.
Did you hate that Jake admitted that he had a girlfriend? 
 No, you didn’t. You didn’t at all. At a certain point, seeing the way that your boyfriend smiled so earnestly made your heart jump out of your chest. The way he was so giddy and smiley (of course, only you could tell that that was how he was feeling— to everyone else it probably looked like he was brooding) made your neck and cheeks warm up.
But, the way that the room erupted with voices and laughter, combined with the quirked brows of everyone on the panel, made you quiver.
You weren’t prepared for it, for how vulnerable you felt as a chorus of “ooh’s” filled the room.
Frankly, there were too many things that you had to focus on at the moment. You'd rather enjoy Vidcon now, and address it later, when things settle down. 
Pushing it to the back of your mind, you tucked your phone away, greeting another wave of fans. Though, not without taking an extra second to "heart" the post, adding it to your favorites folder, and rewatching the video one more time, feeling warmth and giddiness filling your chest.
As the cool night air kissed your cheeks, you fought the shy smile that seeped onto your face. It was late now, late enough that you could see all the city lights gleaming, lighting up the dark sky with blotches of all different colors.
There was a Vidcon party for creators, to celebrate the end of the event. Everyone was going. Although it was meant for any creator, there was a very exclusive VIP section; only those of high prestige could get in. Both you and Jake were invited, but upon realizing that nearly the entire hotel complex would be empty due to the popularity of the party, the two of you ditched it.
You'd been wanting to go to the rooftop hottub for a while now, but you never went because you wanted to go with Jake, and it was always too crowded for the two of you to go there comfortably. But now that everyone was gone, it was the perfect time.
Your boyfriend was already waiting for you up there, towel thrown over his shoulder with a shirt and swim trunks. His face lit up the moment he saw yours emerging from the elevator doors, rushing over to you to take your hands.
He paused for a moment. His dark eyes peered at yours, licking his lips before sucking in a sharp breath. Jake gave your forehead a peck, before saying a small "C'mon" and pulling you over to the hottub.
Jake took your towel for you, folding it next to his and perching it on a sunchair.
"They're gonna get off fireworks soon— Oh, damn," he cut himself off as you pulled your shirt over your head, revealing a bikini top. Your face scrunched up, squirming under his gaze. It's not like Jake has never seen you like this (in fact, he'd seen you in much more compromising positions), and it wasn't like he never complimented you, but as the hottub bubbled, the rosy scent of the water filling the air, you felt shy.
Jake slinked toward you, taking his own shirt off. 
"Hey there, Gorgeous," he said, his fingers playing with the hem of your shorts that had yet to be taken off. Your heart pounded in your chest, fighting the urge to squeeze your eyes shut and groan in embarrassment. You kept your eyes glued to the ground. Jake chuckled softly, before clutching your chin gently, making you look up at him.
"Don't get shy on me now, babe," Jake grinned when your lips pressed into an unconscious pout. He squished your cheek, relishing in the look of confusion painted across your face. Then, his hands fell to your hips, pulling them toward his. "You look so beautiful."
Jake's fingers hooked onto the hem of your shorts, meeting your eyes for permission before pulling them down himself, revealing your bikini bottoms.
Jake's eyes glazed over your figure, taking his bottom lip in between his teeth.
"Jaaakee," you whined, squeezing his hands.
"Sorry," Jake's eyes flickered up to your face. "I can't help it. You're just so hot, baby."
You rolled your eyes, biting back shyness, before you pulled him toward the hottub.
You rolled your eyes, biting back shyness, before you pulled him toward the hottub. 
The two of you got into the tub, sinking into the warm water, you felt your limbs relax. 
Vidcon was very fun, some of the most fun you've had in a while. But, it was very tiring, having to be around so many people at a time. And plus, it was hard not seeing your boyfriend whenever you wanted.
You pulled your knees to your chest. You could hear the loud techno music a few blocks away, probably coming from the club nearby. The bright night lights of LA was something that you could only imagine sleeping under.
Other than the sound of the city bustles, the hot tub’s jet system, and the occasional ripple of water, the night was silent.
“How was your day?” Jake broke the calm silence. The way the blueish water reflected off his skin made you dizzy.
“Good,” You cursed your voice for being so small. You swallowed the lump in your throat. You didn’t know why you felt so nervous. It was your boyfriend, for goodness’s sake!
Jake loved it when you were shy, but sometimes he was genuinely worried about you. Part of why he loved you was the game that was trying to figure out what was going on in that pretty head of yours.
He reached out for you, clutching your knee. "Baby, what's wrong?"
Your stomach churned. For a second, you thought about that video of him admitting that he had a girlfriend. It made your skin crawl, but when your boyfriend squeezed your knee, it all stopped.
"Nothing," you said simply.
There's a few pulses of silence, before Jake clicked his tongue.
"H-Hey—!"
Jake got up from the water, wrapping his hands around your waist, and hoisted you up so that your legs were thrown on either side of the body, before sitting back down so that you were perched right on top of his lap.
Your chest, nearly bare, pressed against his own bare chest in a way that made your heart race. The warmth of his skin as it contacted yours was an addicting feeling, enhanced only by the warm water surrounding you. Either it was the steam from the tub, or the heat collecting between the two of your bodies, that rose to your cheeks.
You rested your hands on his chest, your fingertips barely reaching his broad shoulders, while Jake’s hands stayed in their spot around your waist.
"C'mon," you could feel Jake's warm, strong chest rumble beneath you. "Tell me what's wrong."
Under the sky, his eyes gleamed, like two gems. For the flirt that he was, Jake was too genuine and pure of a person. The sincere worry in his eyes made you feel warm, even warmer than you felt right now. And sometimes that was enough for you.
You leaned into him, your hands coming up to cup his face. You rubbed your thumbs against his cheeks, to which he let his eyelids fall shut, relishing in the comfort that was your presence. Every time your thumb pressed against his lips, he kissed them, unable to hide the smile growing on his lips when you giggled softly.
At the corner of your eye, you spotted the purple hickey you left on him the other day. That combined with his wet hair, the water droplets temptingly running down his chest, and the fact that you were right on top of him made you feel light-headed.
Your hands left his face, and Jake opened his mouth to whine about it, but was shut up when your fingers tangled in his damp hair, pulling him in for a kiss.
It was a soft, innocent kiss, the type you gave when you just wanted to be close to him. Jake hummed against your lips, squeezing your thighs. You pulled away first, but Jake gently guided the back of your head back to his, pecking your lips.
"I just missed you," you said. You kissed his cheek. "I really missed you."
"It's only been a day," Jake teased you, but he knew better than anyone that he had absolutely no right to say that to you: he was practically dying each moment he couldn't see you.
The two of you sat in silence for a moment, staring into each other's eyes. You held onto his strong shoulders, eyes glued to his lips. You were feeling needy, needy in the way that you simply wanted to be close to Jake. You were already close to him, but you wanted to be even closer. Your heart thirsted for it.
Then, you heard a rustle, whipping your head around toward the sound.
"Nuh-uh," Jake whispered in your ear, gently holding your face and guiding it to look at him. "I want you to look at me."
It wasn't until a few seconds later that you understood why Jake's tone sounded so teasing: he was referencing you and him the other day backstage. 
"Stoppp," you whined, pushing your face into his neck. "You're so annoying."
Jake laughed, his chest rumbling. He stopped to admire the way you were all pressed up against him. He could feel every curve of your body, and he could feel the way your cheeks puffed with air, your lips forming a pout. He poked your cheek.
"You're so cute, baby."
"I know."
"What's with you getting so bold?"
"You're annoying me."
"Awww, you love me so—"
Fireworks fired off in the distance, painting the gray-blue sky with bright colors. 
You stayed in your position, only your eyes moving upward to admire the show. However, Jake stayed staring straight at you, practically ignoring the fiery flowers forming in the sky. He gazed into your eyes, watching the reflection in them.
"It's so pretty," you murmur.
"Yeah," Jake felt like he was falling into your eyes, "So pretty."
Just as another round of fireworks shot up into the sky, Jake grabbed your face, crashing his lips onto yours. Your lips fit into each other well, like puzzle pieces, in a way that was so satisfying, almost like you were made for kissing Jake. But for all of the desire and roughness that the kiss was filled with, it was a soft one. 
Jake swiped his tongue over your bottom lip, making you squeal and giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. His hands kneaded your body, roaming all over you with no intention of leaving a single part of your skin untouched. Likewise, you gripped his biceps, digging your nails into his skin to keep yourself grounded.
"Fuck—" Jake mumbled against your lips, only to get cut off by your lips attacking his— "Wait—"
Jake tasted sweet, like candy. He tasted like home, like love, like everything was going to be okay no matter what. How could you pull away now? 
"B-Baby, wait—"
"Stop talking, Jakey," you pulled away briefly, only to bite his lip, pulling on the pink flesh with your teeth. You let your tongue roam his mouth, feeling the warmth as your own hands began to wander his toned chest. 
"Just kiss me," you breathed.
You kept Jake like this for a few more minutes, trapping him in the heaven that was your lips. But when your bikini top began to untie at the back, something that Jake noticed immediately, he ripped away from you.
Something in his eyes had changed.
Quietly, he tied your bikini top back for you, ignoring your confused (and very breathless) gaze.
"If you keep doing what you do to me," he began into your ear, "I don't know if I'll be able to control myself."
With that, Jake threw you over his shoulder as he hoisted himself up to his feet. He grabbed everything that you brought to the rooftop, throwing your towel over you and ignoring you fussing.
"W-Where are we goin—?!"
"Back to my room."
You were in for a night.
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You and Jake were going to stay in LA for a little while longer after Vidcon, so you extended your stay in the same hotel rooms.
After last night, Jake and you fell asleep in his bed. 
It was going to be the best, Jake thought. Neither of you had anywhere to be, anyone to put on a show for. The two of you could sleep in for as long as you'd like. It didn't really matter to him, as long as he could wake up with you in his arms, he'd be all right.
Which is why Jake's heart dropped to his stomach when he woke up to you already dressed, pacing around the room nervously.
"Baby?" Jake was alarmed, even as he rubbed his sleepy eyes. "Baby, what happened?"
You whipped your head over to him, your expression pinch and painted with anxiety. 
"Check your phone," you muttered as you chewed your lip.
Jake did as you said. The moment he opened up his phone, his screen was filled with text messages from everyone: his colleagues, his friends, heck even his own mother. He was tagged in about a thousand posts all across his social media accounts, and his Youtube home page was plastered with his face. But not only his face. Your face too.
What caught his eye was an article from a major Internet news source that made its round across every platform.
Its headline?
Jake Sim and [Name] [Last Name] are reported to be dating.
The worst part was the cover page.
It was a photo of you and Jake, together in the hottub last night, with your arms thrown around his neck with your lips connected. When he read more into it, the photo evidence got more and more specific. Close-up pictures of Jake's neck to reveal a hickey and lipstick mark on his shirt, your smudged lipstick, a screenshot of the Sanrio plush in one of his videos, even that clip of his laugh in the background of one of your videos. Of course, the most crucial one was that clip of Jake admitting that he had a girlfriend.
This was what he wanted, wasn't it? For everyone to know about you, to be able to show you off.
Objectively, this was bound to happen.
But as Jake watched you pace around, your hands shaking as you looked like you were about to cry, he didn't feel the pride that he thought he would feel if everyone knew. He didn't feel happy, he didn't feel excited that he got to show you off. All he felt was a mix of guilt and anger.
And before he could reach out to hold your hand and pull you close, you quietly said that you were going to go on a walk, and left the hotel room.
The quiet that filled the hotel room was piercing. Jake stilled in his spot, still groggy and disheveled.
Had he always been like this?
He swore that at the beginning of your relationship, he took every measure to keep it private. Because you asked him to. Because he respected you.
Why did he throw it all away? 
He agreed to keep things private. 
But now he put you in an uncomfortable position and an even more vulnerable position than you'd ever been in before. 
Was he a bad boyfriend? Were you going to break up with him? Would your relationship with him ever be the same? That made Jake's heart palpitate. He couldn't lose you. No, he'd die. But then again, he fucked up, he knew that.
Jake ran a hand through his hair. This was an asshole move.
But he couldn't help feeling his fingers twitch for his phone when it ding'd.
The first thing he saw when he opened up Twitter were tweets at him.
And they were surprisingly... supportive?
"Emo boyfriend, cute girlfriend, the best combo!"
"Sending love to both of you. Hope you're doing well. We support you."
"I'm very pleasantly surprised."
"This is literally like Hello Kitty and Batman meeting this is crazy"
But as he scrolled deeper, he found more obscure comments.
"Feel so bad for [Name]. Her boyfriend is a freak."
"He doesn't deserve her."
And the nail in the coffin:
"No wonder they kept it a secret. I'd hide it too if someone like that was my boyfriend."
Why did you keep your relationship with him secret? Jake knew the answer to that: you just wanted to keep your personal life private.
But as Jake plunged himself deeper and deeper into the hole that was the media, he could only imagine alternative answers, and one stuck out.
Were you ashamed of him? 
Of course you would be.
You were beautiful in every capacity and just the most perfect person in the world. And Jake was just himself. You were always cute, and sometimes, Jake felt like he couldn't keep up with you. You were far out of his league. His content was considered "niche" and "obscure," of course people, maybe even you, considered him a freak.
He was a bastard, and you were a princess. He didn't blame you for being embarrassed about him.
That's why you were so anxious and against your relationship being exposed, right?
No, no, no!
Shut up, shut up, shut up, Jake thought, his hands balling into fists. You wouldn't. He knew you better than anyone, and he knew that you would never be embarrassed about him. You weren't like that, and he was a fool for even thinking of you in that way. He was being insecure and stupid.
But even so, as Jake let all the guilt, shame, anger, and anxiety settle in while he thought of an apology to you, he couldn't help but feel his insecurity seeping in.
You knew that you were overreacting. You shouldn't have left Jake in there all alone, you should have sat down and talked to him about it.
But there was something scary about having everybody's eyes on you at once, scorning you. You were a Youtuber, of course you knew what it felt like to be watched, but to have the entire internet so hellbent about your personal life made you jump into your own skin.
You just took a walk along the early city streets, you reflected upon yourself.
Why did you keep your relationship with Jake secret? 
Part of it was privacy. You didn't want the internet to interfere with your personal life, of course. 
But it wasn't like you wanted to hide your love for your boyfriend forever. It wasn't like you wanted to stow him away somewhere no one could find him. You were both adults, and you had to start living at some point.
You'd be lying if you said that you never thought about making a cute video with him, if you said you never wanted to post a cheesy anniversary picture on Instagram with a long caption just for him, if you said you never wanted the world to know that Jake Sim was yours.
You remembered the first time you and Jake talked about keeping it private. He was unsure, but because he cared so much about you, he agreed. Had you ever stopped to think about how he felt? You may have wanted to keep your relationship quiet, but did he? To a degree, there was something selfish about you, both now and in the past. You wanted to preserve yourself and your feelings, but you never even considered how Jake felt.
You were afraid, you felt vulnerable and too exposed to the world. But you cared far more about Jake than those fleeting emotions. Desire outweighed fear, you had to see him now.
But as you marched back to your hotel, your mind racing as you came up with paragraphs of words that you'd spill to Jake, you began to notice your worst nightmare.
A group of men, each with massive cameras that had even bigger microphones. 
They called themselves the paparazzi, but they were really only middle-aged men that made money off of being invasive towards people half their age.
Maybe you should have worn a hat, or something, as you were in a camera-infested area that was even more infested with celebrities and influencers. As they approached you, you quickened your steps, trying to get as far as you could from them. You tried your best not to make eye-contact, but alas, they got to you before you could escape.
"[Name]?" one of them called out your name, practically running to you.
Oh my god, you thought, ignoring them as you sped up. Please not right now.
"[Name], are you dating Jake Sim?" The sound of your boyfriend's name out of their mouths made your stomach churn. You kept walking, but you could feel them pointing their massive cameras at you, taking any measure to make a buck off of you.
You had a few choices.
You could make a run for it. Though, you had about six men double your age who would probably chase you down.
You could also give in to them, and give very vague answers. That would require a lot of patience, and simply, you wanted to go kiss your boyfriend, not talk to these so-called paparazzis.
Your last option was the one that seemed the most appealing, but could stir the pot of the media even more and it would give the tabloids what they wanted: you could tell them off and shut them down completely. The only issue was that you were the cutesy, sweet, Sanrio Hello Kitty girl. You've talked about adult topics before, but for you to be hostile and mean to another person? That was completely unheard of to anyone on the Internet. It would also be very reactive, and the media could twist that into something more.
But you wanted to get out of there.
You wanted to go see Jake. If you had to throw a few curse words at people if it meant that you could go home to Jake, then you'd use every curse under the sun.
"[Name], everyone is saying that your relationship with Jake Sim is real and not a publicity stunt. Any comment on that-?"
You were getting irritated.
You stopped in your tracks, turning over your shoulder.
"Will you fuck off?" Your gaze hardened on the group of men shoving cameras in your faces. You didn't even bother looking into the lens. "It's 10 in the morning, I don't have time for this."
"We didn't mean to offend you, [Name], we just wanted to know your relationship with Jake Si—"
You huffed to yourself, rolling your eyes. They loved acting polite only to violate your privacy. 
"Cut the bullshit, okay?" you narrowed your eyes. You were only a few meters from the hotel entrance, and they were still stalking you with their massive cameras. How shameless. 
Your anger was bubbling up inside you. It was rising, rising so much that you could feel it attempting to spill out of your mouth.
"You want to make a quick buck off of me so bad?" You stepped through the hotel doorway.
If the media was so curious about your life, and if they wanted to go so far as to try to disrupt your relationship, you wouldn't give them that satisfaction.
Everyone loved seeing what you were doing, everyone loved to watch you. It was your job to put on a show, to give people what they wanted. If you wanted to live, then you'd have to accept that.
You were an influencer, a micro-celebrity. You could make tides move if you wanted to. Why be so fearful of the eyes of so many?
But more than anything, you were a performer. And if that's what they wanted from you, that's what they'll get.
"Fine," you huffed. "I'll give you a story: me and Jake have been together for six years. In fact, we met each other in high school when he was my Physics lab partner. Go investigate that, won't you?"
With that, you slammed the hotel entrance door in their faces.
Jake swore he heard the trumpets of heaven when the hotel room door cracked open, revealing you.
He'd been waiting in front of it for a while now, and he jerked up immediately as he saw your face. He jumped right to his feet, ready to spill every word he thought of on you. You deserved an explanation.
But all you did was raise your hand, silencing him instantly. Instead, you took off your shoes, took his arm, and pulled him with you to the bed. You motioned for him to lay down, and did so yourself.
Jake stared at you like you were insane. Were you not going to yell at him? Why weren't you hitting him or telling him that you wanted to break up with him? Should he be on his knees begging you to stay at this point? But he complied (because of course he did, it was you).
You laid on his chest in silence, pressing your cheek up against him. 
That made his mind wander.
Maybe you were trying to ease him into a hard conversation. Maybe you were going to forget this until later.
He didn't want that. No, you deserved to hear what he had to say. If you were going to leave him, Jake wanted to say everything that he wanted to.
"I'm sorry," Jake blurted. The silence was deafening, before you took a deep breath, turning over onto your stomach so that your chin laid on his chest.
"What for?"
The gentle look in your eye as you looked at him made Jake choke up himself. He had to hold back or he'd start sobbing.
"For going against your wishes a-and..." Jake searched through his mind for all the words he practiced, but nothing came to mind. Not with you looking at him like you still loved him. "And for telling people about our relationship. I—I shouldn't have done that and I'm sorry for disrespecting the promise w-we made.... And... And—"
Jake sucked in a loud, sharp breath. His eyes were getting watery. He took your hands in his, squeezing them. 
"And I know that you're ash—ashamed of me, and I know that y-you won't— you won't want to be with me anymore, but—"
"Wait what?" you interrupted him, squeezing hands back. "I'm not ashamed of you, Jakey."
Jake stared at you.
Jakey.
"I'm not breaking up with you either. What makes you think that?"
The gate that was holding back Jake's emotions broke.
Jake let the tears that he tried so hard to hold back roll down his face. He let out a sob before he clamped a hand over his mouth.
You didn't hate him? You still wanted to be with him?
You instantly threw your leg over his hips, straddling him as you pulled his head to your chest. He melted into your touch, his wet face hiding in the crook of your neck. You pet his hair, pressing kisses to the crown of his head.
"Baby," you whispered into his ear gently. "Why are you crying?"
Jake's crying only got louder, and you couldn't help but giggle. He was a total softie. The way his hold around you tightened told you enough.
Jake sniffled through his words, cutting himself off every now and then with a hiccup and more sobs. "Th-Thought you were gonna l-leave me."
Your fingers stopped in his hair. "Leave you? Why would I?"
Jake pushed his face back into your shoulder, shaking his head.
You let him cry like that for a little while longer, whispering sweet reassurances in his ear as you patted his back. 
And when he was ready, the two of you talked it out, because that's what people did when they loved each other. You exchanged apologies, explained to each other your thought processes, and created an agreement: start anew, and you both didn’t mind that your relationship was now public, and if either of you disagreed, you had to voice it immediately. You ended it with a kiss.
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You clicked the camera on, checking in the viewfinder that you were in-frame. You were back at home, the pink Hello Kitty decorations in your room, as well as the scent of strawberries, surrounding you. 
“Hi, everyone!” you smiled brightly, clasping your hands together. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you all. How are you?”
You chatted about a few updates since Vidcon, telling about your wonderful experience there and how you were so happy to meet all your fans.
“Now, onto the video!”
You peered to the side, where you spotted Jake sitting at the edge of your bed, waiting intently for your cue.
“Oh, Jakey!” you said in a sing-songy voice. “Come out now!”
With that, Jake popped into frame, dorkily saying a quick hi before plopping down onto the chair beside you.
“Today, I will be doing my boyfriend’s makeup!” you chirped happily. “Are you ready, boyfriend?”
The two of you shared a grin.
“Of course, girlfriend.”
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the-californicationist · 11 months ago
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Please! I need the part 2 of “Captain Price opens a package, thinking it’s intel, but it’s a sex pollen.“ I'm on my kneesss pleaseee it was so good! đŸ˜­â™„ïž
Anyways, I'm your new follower 😍, and some of the stories you write is just so damn good😍 (Sorry for bad grammar's, English isn't really my first language, uwu)
im sorry but idk what a part two even looks like. i know a lot of people have asked for it but its... just some couch sex?? idk i'll try.
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Laswell clicked the door shut behind her, and part of you wished she had locked it. Gaz was sure to tell the rest of the team, but you could do without an audience. What would they even see if they barged in here?
The captain had let his cock loose from the confines of his pants, and they were sliding down his thick, muscular ass with every selfish thrust. He was rubbing himself like a naughty dog against your clothed pussy, begging for entrance with every forward movement. Your shirt was pulled down, revealing your breasts, and now they were covered in pink marks from the roughness of his beard as he moved his mouth across you.
Feeling him take each nipple and suck it so gently into his mouth, pulling it in like delicious nectar through a straw, drinking you although you were dry, tasting you even though you had no flavor. It was too much, but he couldn't stop.
You felt a little wrong to be enjoying your commanding officer so much. His humping was making your body respond even as it waited for your guilty conscience to catch up.
"Cap... oh, my fucking God... No, Captain. We shouldn't..." you tried to protest on his behalf, knowing he was being controlled by the powder.
"Corporal," he spoke with his mouth full of your flesh, "I can stop... now. It'll give you... enough time... to run..."
His bright pink eyes flashed up at you in warning and he used both his arms to pin you on either side of your head, forcing you to look at him, the intensity of which went right to your rapidly-melting core.
Suddenly, in a moment of lucidity, he looked you right in your eyes and finished his sentence,
"But that will not be bloody true for long."
As if warning you, he rubbed his hardness up and over your belly, letting it ruck up your shirt, and you felt its incredible heat. It was like a long, steel brand. His skin was smooth, but it was scalding and swollen with his blood. The huge tip left a wet trail of desire wherever it went.
"It's okay, Captain. You can have me if you --"
There mere suggestion of your consent was all he needed to let the dam burst and the river run free. His need crashed from him with an explosive force. He all but ripped your clothes from you, nearly hurting you in the process, making your ankles ache from the sudden pressure as he shucked your pants and boots away in one go.
Your panties were torn from you, sturdy though they were. The fabric made a whining, popping noise as the elastic split. Air rushed across uncovered skin, and your body doubled down on its plans to produce as much natural lubrication as possible. It seemed to know you'd need it.
He didn't touch you. Not with his hands. There was no preparation of any kind. Price fed himself into you like a hand into a glove, a body part in need of sudden and immediate warmth. He took control of your head again, pinning you in that same furious way, and you had a singular view of his face, twisted in a sort of sublime agony as he sank himself into you for the first time.
The pressure was almost unimaginable. Your body was making a lurid, wet, slicking noise as his cock forced you in half. You tried to allow him in, tried to relax, but there was little you could do. He was immense and heavy. It felt like a fist on a strong arm, like a forge hammer, hot and searing. The only thing more tormenting was his voice purring darkly in your ear.
"Fuck, you're warm..."
He pulled himself out of you inch by inch, leaving a terrible hollow where you were once whole.
"Wet for me. So wet. How?"
Back in. And in. And in. It seemed to go forever in and it made you wonder how deep you were.
"It feels so good to have you 'round me, love..."
When the rosy head of him found the end of your wet hole, it sort of... settled there. Locked in, like a key into a tumbler, and each fold of you a lifted pin, fitting him as if you were crafted for it.
"Thought 'bout how you'd feel. Sometimes... dreamt it."
You felt your body give away your surprise. He was too gone to notice it, but not you. You would have been able to feel the planets shift an inch to the left if they dared. You could feel everything. Each and every pore and hair and breath was awake and alive and living in the rawest possible way. Could he have really been thinking of you like you were thinking of him?
"Bloody fuckin' hell. So tight. Too tight."
He was right. It was too tight. He was squeezing himself in with each of these aching, crazed thrusts, shoving himself inside of you hungrily, all the way up to your pounding heart, it seemed. You felt yourself slipping around him like hot oil, running down his shaft and matting the coarse, dark hair that cradled his root.
"John..."
You used his name in place of his title, and he noticed. Noticed it like a hawk notices a hare. Right in your ear, up against your cheek, he responded, too quickly, too much teeth,
"Yes, love. Yes. Yes? Tell me."
He was grunting now, clearly on the edge of his pleasure. You aimed to take him over it, to plunge him into blinding darkness. You whispered, and each word hit its mark like the straight shaft of an arrow, striking into the target one after the other, tearing through the bullseyes like they were nothing but air.
"You're gonna make me come, John."
Again, that unearthly snarl came from his chest, the one you'd never heard before come from the mouth of a man. It was a cry and a scream and a prayer and a plea and had he not been pinning you down prone with his own prostrated body, he would have been growling it from his knees. He commanded you as he worshiped you,
"Give it to me. Give it to me. Give. It. To. Me."
Your body listened before you could even register his words.
From the bones in your hips, you felt your muscles tighten along his iron rod like a fist, closing in on him knuckle by knuckle, and each closure brought you closer to that brink where the darkness turned to blinding white light. You could feel the sparkle of it, that peppery gunpowder flash and then...
"Holy fuck, love..." He stared at you as if you were the sun lighting up his whole life. Like he'd seen you before, all sherbet pink and blazing orange, in the dawn, in the mornings, cutting over the horizon.
Price had come in you. You felt it. It slid along the cleft of your ass and soaked into the fabric of the couch. He didn't mind it. You couldn't. His body was still thrusting as hard and as heavy as before, fucking up into you as if he hadn't just filled you with his thick, hot cream.
"I can't... " he gasped, wrenching his eyes shut, "I can't stop..."
"It's okay, John..."
"I can't bloody stop, love. I'm... fuck, I'm sorry..."
"I'm okay. It's okay," you whispered to him, trying to soothe him.
You pet the hair back over his brow and he leaned into your touch like a cat, purring for more of it. You laced your fingers through his hair and held him tight at his scalp, turning his head so that you could talk to him right into his ear,
"Fuck me how you need to, Captain."
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Did you enjoy this tale or maybe some other work by me? Consider buying me a coffee, if you have the means. Kudos, likes, reblogs, and feral comments also work as well ^_^ Thanks!
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awniie · 11 months ago
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AT LEAST LOOK AT ME WHEN YOU LIE
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ᣞ âŠč ʁ summary: your boyfriend suguru finds the best way to punish you !!
꒰ content: mean!sugu, fem!reader, pussyslapping, praise/degradiation, cum denial, feel like this whole thing is kinda a niche kink
ㅀㅀㅀ⭑ notes: my ‘mean suguru’ drabble was based on this so if some stuff sounds familiar it’s cus i took this n drabble-fied it; also this is for the anon who asked for it <33 ALSO @d0nk3y-k0ng my new-found geto fixation is your fault <33
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“Suguru, can you help me?
this thing is too heavy!” you called out, voice straining as you struggled to bring the giant cardboard box through the door. It was way too heavy for you, and of course the delivery people had quickly set it outside the door, escaping the potential work of having to bring it inside. Your boyfriend quickly rushed to your aid, grabbing the opposite side of the box. “I got it baby, where did you wanna put it again?” Suguru asked, setting the box against the wall and looking at you.
“I wanted to put it in the living room. That way it’ll be the most accessible.” You told him. You two hand just moved into your new place and decorating was the sole thing on your mind. You spent hours on pinterest, trying to find the perfect aesthetic for your new home. You valued your home,so much so that you started repeating all those cringey aphorisms whenever you were questioned about your new-found obsession.
“Home is where the heart is, sugu.” You told him. He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Okay, but what does that anything to do with spending $100 on a house plant?” You let out a sheepish laugh. “Well
I can take care of the plant. Which takes heart
?” You murmured. It was an inane suggestion, which was appropriate for the circumstance of spending $100 on a plant. “Sounds a bunch of bullshit to me.” Your boyfriend told you. He was necessarily happy with all the money being spent on what seemed like superficial things, he seemed to be happy with the results of your decorating.
It took about 30 minutes to situate this new mirror, but for good reasons. It was big, like really big. Leaning, it was taller than you and almost as tall as your 6’3 boyfriend. It was wide as well, providing a perfect view of anyone who looked into it. It was a gorgeous peice of furniture. The frame was a creamy white, with ornate molding. There were carefully crafted swirls and curves on it, with tiny clay embellishment. It had looked like something out of a fairytale, like a mirror that could reveal the deepest desires of whoever dared look inside. It was perfect for your new house, the only thing that wasn’t so perfect was the extravagant price. Your jaw almost dropped when you saw the cost. No way in hell would Suguru let you buy it, no matter how much you beg or how many tears you spill.
So you searched for alternatives. Any sort of duplicate or listing on another site would be scouted out and search throughly before you succumb your wallet to $2,500. You must’ve been god-kissed that day, as the only cheaper listing was $1,700. Still, it wasn’t something you felt 100% sure about buying, but what other options were there? Suguru would be proud of you for finding a cheaper offering and thinking about a budget. So, you went ahead and bought it, feeling pretty proud of yourself for doing so. Did you tell Suguru about the purchase? no way. You’d only tell him if he asked, and you prayed with all your heart that he wouldn’t.
“Sooo
do you like it?” you asked him hopefully. Maybe he would say yes and then move on to something else, and not ask that dreadful question. Maybe, when you told him about the bargain you made, he’d be proud of you for your efforts. “Mhmmm, t’s real pretty.” He put his hand on his chin, as if thinking. “How much did we pay for this again?” Suguru asks, stepping back and giving it an appraisal.
Shit. It was silent for a good 10 seconds. You could feel the way your words dried up on your tongue and died, as if they were too scared to come up. He raised an eyebrow and asks again, looking at you through the reflection of the mirror. “How much did we pay for this thing?” Stil not answer. He came up behind you, snaking one arm around your waist, while his open hand went to your chin. “Baby, you gon’ answer me?” His ghostly purple eyes searing yours through that cursed mirror.


“I-I just forgot to tell you-
!” you whined, legs buckling as you felt another sharp stinging sensation land on puffy clit.
“Oh, you did?” Suguru asked facetiously. You nod and cry as you feel another slap land on your clit. He then grabs your face with his hands, holding your cheeks between his slick-coated fingers. “At least look at me when you lie, baby.” He said as he guided your face in the mirror.
This was humiliating. He had you spread out on the floor, pussy glistening and your back pressed up against his chest. He had took upon himself to punish you, which subsequently turned into something lewd and twisted. Hence the being sprawled out, leggings and panties long discarded and receiving countless slaps on your cunt. It was painfully obvious that he was hard, feeling his length that was being squashed up against your ass. Your hair was messy and out of place, your skin sticky while drool and tears coated your chin. The worst part? He was doing this right infront of the new mirror and he wouldn’t even let you look away, so you were forced to fully embrace your current state.
“Please sugu. I didn’t mean too
just lemme cum please? You begged, your voice shaky and full of hiccups.
“Noo, only good girls get to cum .” He cooed, his finger playing with your little bundle of nerves. You’d been at this for about an hour now. He’d start to finger your cunt, and then he’d hit it as punishment. The closest you’ve been to finishing was the half-broken orgasm you’d stolen from his fingering, which in return you got another slap.
“Could’ve been done a long time ago. You’re making this so difficult for me baby.” He whispered in your ear, as if this hurt him more than it did you. “So now, are you gonna tell me the truth, or are you gonna keep lying to me? Cus’ trust me, I won’t hesitate to hit this pussy again” He threatened, the hand on your sticky clit moving even more slowly as an incentive.
You meant to shake your head, but when he swiftly plunged his fingers into your weeping cunt, the sloppy sounds of your slick, must’ve drowned out whatever of your senses was left. “y-yes
!”
You saw the gleam of that dangerous smile in the mirrors reflection. “I knew you would. Such a smart girl, yeah?”
Then your boyfriend laughed, a soft and smooth laugh that should not have gone down to your lower stomach with molten delicious heat. Could you blame yourself though? His fingers were pumping in-and-out of you with tantalizing proficiency, making your insides do somersaults. The way that syrupy-sweet praises dripped off his tongue alongside bitter jeers. Your brain was too far fucked out for so many conflicting emotions. “Go on now..say what you needa say to me.”
“m’ sorry for spending your money sugu! I shouldn’t have bought it, should’ve a-asked!” You confessed, buckling you hips in tandem with his fingers. “Ah ah
no moving.” He reprimanded, taking those fingers out and slapping your hole again. Your body jolted at the sudden sting and then slumped back against his chest.
“Look at you, all teary eyed and wet-pussied. You like this shit, don’t yeah?” He catchesized, with that stupid-stupid smirk on his face. “I bet you’re not sorry at all.”
“No-yes-no m’ sorry..! M’ really really sorry! ” You could barely understand what he was saying. Your pleasure was the only thing that mattered right now, all other senses finger-fucking out of you a long time ago. Geto loved you like this though. Fucked dumb and too far down the abyss of your own pleasure to think properly, all inhibitions lost. It was the easiest way to get an answer out of you.
“I think you bought this mirror just for yourself. Just so you could watch yourself get fucked? He guessed, dragging his hands across your quivering thighs. You hated how soft his voice sounded, especially when accusing you. whimpered as he did, wishing he’d just hurry and put you out of your misery. “N-no”
he frowned, stopping his hand in its tracks. He brought his lips close to shell of you ear, sending shivers down your spine and more wetness to your cunt. “Look at me, and don’t lie.”
You looked at him, straight through the mirror. “I promise, i didn't sugu. I just wanted our home to look nice!” you confessed, sniffling and squeezing your thighs together to create some sort of friction for your achey pussy.
Suguru felt his heart melt a little. You were so pitiful with your shaky mewls and whines . He couldn't help but feel a little bad for being so mean to his precious girl. He shouldn't punish you too hard, obviously you didn't know much better. “Aww..look at that face. How could I be so mean?” He told you, trailing that finger up on down your slit. He smiled at how you hips yet again bucked at his wandering digits. “So needy. Poor baby, drooling n’ crying just like this pussy. Guess I should give you what you want, yeah?”
“Mh! Yes sugu, please lemme cum now! I’m so sorry, won’t do this ever again.” You begged. At this point you were full on crying, all other senses overrides by your need to cum. His thick fingertip teased your sopping entrance, re-coating the fingers in cum.
He simply laughed, diving those fingers back into your pulsing heat. “Oh, I know baby. I know. Now watch me as I give this pussy just what she needs.”
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elssero · 4 months ago
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project partner
k.bakugo
-in which you and bakugo get paired to work on a school project together ,sfw. angst!!!!! tw no happy endings ..
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maybe you should’ve been paying more attention but your hero analytics class was so boring you genuinely couldn’t stop yourself from getting distracted.
it’s not like the view outside the window is any more interesting- at this point your just looking at anything in an attempt to drown out your teachers voice.
you catch a pair of birds on a tree outside- watching as they shuffle around each other awkwardly. god you wish you were one of those birds right now. you really hate this class.
“and yn, you’ll be partnered with uh- bakugo.”
wait what?
oh you’ve got to be kidding me.
you don’t even know what you’ve been partnered to work with him on? some sort of fake hero interview? god could your day get any worse.
you did not like bakugo. not one bit.
you didn’t like his ‘better than everyone’ attitude. you didn’t like the constant stupid scowl on his face. but most of all you didn’t like the way he spoke to your friends.
at the beginning of the year you’d made a conscious effort to befriend most of your classmates. never shying away from a conversation and offering your assistance whenever needed.
you knew what it was like to be strong, you’d always been a step ahead, seemingly excelling in everything you did. you guessed you had that in common with him.
however, what you didn’t have in common with him was his treatment of your classmates. you had never once wanted anyone too feel inferior to you, even if they were.
sure you were teasing- often joking around with many of your classmates but it was all in good faith. nothing like the actual insults bakugo often hurled at them.
you didn’t like him. not at all.
staring at aizawa with wide eyes he only gives you a shrug. you have absolutely no idea why he thought it would be a good idea to pair you and bakugo together- you’d never even spoken a word to each other in this class.
after reading out the rest of the pairings he dismisses the class, encouraging you all too make plans with your partners about scheduling time to work on the project he’d just given you, explaining you had a week to hand in two fully fledged professional looking interviews, one of your partner and of yourself with the other playing the interviewer.
you weren’t worried about your performance at something like this, being friendly and talking to people had never been a problem for you- at least not until it came to the blonde who was now making his way towards you. his signature frown on his face.
he huffs as he attempts to make himself comfortable in the seat next to you, still somehow looking incredibly uncomfortable.
you glance around at the other pairs in the room. brewing with jealousy as you see everyone already getting along- seemingly paired with someone their known to be friends with.
the boy beside you attempts to speak before you cut him off-
“okay look- i don’t want to be here any longer than i need too and i’m sure you don’t either.” you would normally grimace at the harsh tone of your voice- except it’s bakugo, so instead you continue on.
“i’ll spend tonight watching recent hero interviews too see what types of questions are currently trending, i’ll put us both together a series of questions we can ask each other.”
it’s better you do all the work, it means he can’t surprise you with some stupidly rude question. you don’t have to get along with him. you just have to do the project- get a good grade and go back to ignoring him.
“send me a copy of your schedule so i can work out a time that suits us both to film the interviews- they shouldn’t take too long, most interviews only last a little under an hour now a days.”
you don’t look at him as you speak to him, instead opting to drawing little cats in the corner of your page as you explain your plan to him.
“oh um- okay.” he pauses slightly before continuing speaking. “yeah- um i’ll send you my schedule.”
that was oddly easy? of course your glad he didn’t fight you on this, but to say you weren’t expecting at least a little challenge would be a lie.
deciding not to dwell on his weird behaviour you take this as a win- you get to dictate your entire project which is obviously what you’d rather. when the bell rings to signify the end of the day your beyond thankful to it for getting you away from the increasingly awkward silence your having with bakugo at the moment. getting up you don’t even bid him goodbye as you meet up with your friends while leaving the class to make your way to the dorms.
it’s jirou and mina you meet at the doorway- immediately accepting their invitation to join them on their walk home.
the walk isn’t long- you listen as your friends catch you up on the work they’d done with their partners during class- expressing their excitement to work on something more media based.
“so uh- how’s having bakugo as a partner?” you roll your eyes at your pink friend. it’s no secret that your not a fan of bakugo. infact you go out of way to make it very clear to your friends your feelings about the boy.
“it’s weird. he’s totally letting me do all the work- of course i’m not complaining but i thought he’d try to argue with me with at least once.” explaining how he’d acted to your friends you feel just as confused as you did in class.
“wait- you mean he didn’t argue with you once? not even a single time?” confirming minas question you keep walking. it is weird. you don’t think bakugo has ever done a paired project without being utterly horrible to whatever pour soul had been paired up with him.
“i mean are we really surprised? i can’t think of a single time he’s ever actually insulted you.” you look at your purple haired friend as she talks. she’s right.
you don’t know why, but since the beginning of first year bakugo had never once said anything mean to you. not since you’d kept up with him on the quick assessment on your first day.
it’s weird. god it’s so weird and your grateful someone else has noticed it. he’s always so mean. never thinking twice before hurling abuse at the rest of your class while he seemingly never even thinks of throwing some at you.
you rather it that way. it gives you the perfect excuse to never have to speak to him.
“wait your right
” mina currently looks deep in thought before a sly smile erupts on her face. “maybe he’s got a crush!”
you can’t help the laugh that bubbles in your chest. bakugo?? a crush?? even the idea sounds crazy. not once in your three years of being at UA had you ever heard of bakugo even being remotely interested in anything like that with anyone.
“bakugo definitely does not have a crush on me- are we sure he even has a romantic bone in his body?” jirou beside you laughs at that, a small chuckle escaping her. “it’s not the craziest explanation- maybe he’s got a soft spot.” you shoot her a kidding glare.
“don’t be silly guys. i’m sure there’s an actual reason- maybe he just can’t think of anything bad to say about me.” your thankful when the girls next to you both burst into giggles- giving you and opening to change the subject.
the idea scratches the back of your head the whole walk. you can’t stop thinking about it as you make your way into your own dorm, showering and changing before beginning to work on your project- your thirty minutes into the most recent mirko interview when you decide you need a break.
dinner. that will definitely solve your problems. your just hungry.
making your way into the kitchen your hopes of getting your mind off bakugo are immediately shut down as you see his figure behind the open fridge door.
for fucks sake.
it’s too late to turn around now. sucking it up you made your way over to one of the cupboards before taking out some bread- you’ll just make a sandwich. something quick to get you the fuck out of this kitchen.
you nearly make it out- your so close.
“so uh- how’s the project going?” your being punished. your now completely certain someone out there has something out for you.
“um yeah it’s going fine- i have your questions all written out i’m just getting started on mine.” you forced to look at him quickly when you place the bread back into the cupboard. it’s clear he’s just back from a very intense work out. the sweat in his hair makes that evident. he looks good.
what the fuck? you turn away quickly before he notices your quick stare as you pack up your food ready to take into your room.
“you did my questions first?” there’s a slight surprise in his voice as he questions you.
“uh yeah it was easier. there’s a lot more male heros so it was easier to find interview questions compared to females.” it’s a logical explanation- you miss the way his expression drops slightly when he listens to your reasoning.
“is that all your having to eat?” this is weird. is he making fun of you? no that’s not it. there’s not a mean tone in his voice- instead it’s something like concern.
“i’m not really hungry. just wanted a quick snack-“
“you should eat more.”
you need to get out of this kitchen. why is he being so nice to you? okay maybe he’s right. a sandwich is definitely not a hero course student meal but your currently far to confused and far too tired too care.
“goodnight bakugo.”
you don’t wait for his reply as you quickly make your way to the door, desperate to get away from whatever the fuck is going on right now. you debate making your way to minas room to debrief what just happened but decide against it. she’ll probably attempt to try and convince you about her stupid crush theory again and there’s absolutely no way that’s true.
the after effect of your late night hits you like a truck in the morning, after groggily getting up and forcing yourself to get ready you rush to class- nearly missing the bell while you step in only a few seconds before your teacher.
you spend the entire period in complete silence- focusing mainly on keeping yourself awake long enough to get home and go straight to sleep. your keeping your face up with your hand while it threatened to fall when you receive a note from your left.
you okay? you look like your seconds away from biting your desk. -k.b.
why on earth did he sign his initials on this stupid note as if you didn’t just watch him place it on your desk. you decide to take a minute to calm yourself so you don’t end up writing him back a mess of profanities.
you don’t even reply at all, deciding instead to crumple the note up extremely loudly before placing it in your pocket. you miss the dejected look on his face but you do hear the scoff. that bitch.
you can’t wait for the end of this stupid project, hoping that by the end of it you and bakugo will be able to go back to how you were before. he can go back to terrorising the rest of the class while you go back to ignoring him.
it’s beyond weird that he’s starting to talk to you. you assume he feels obligated because he’s your partner but you’d rather he just ignored you outwith strickly work related conversations.
your packing up for class when he nexts approaches you- placing a piece of paper in your hand as he walks by your desk.
“it’s uh- it’s my schedule.” right. you did ask him for that didn’t you? did he put this together last night? it’s extremely detailed- compiling exactly what he does everyday seven days a week, even having slots for studying and meal times.
scanning it over quickly you realise the only free time you share is saturday afternoon- tomorrow.
that works. if you get your interviews completely done during the weekend it means that this weird situation you’ve found yourself in with bakugo will be over by monday- it’s perfect infact.
“i’m free tomorrow afternoon too- i’ll meet you in the common room at 1 and we can spend a couple hours on it. hopefully we can have it done before dinner.”
“yeah um- that’s fine i’ll meet you at 1.” okay great. you take note of the fact this is the second plan you’ve made without bakugo arguing with you.
you leave the class in speed after that- wishing your friends a goodbye as you let them know you won’t be walking with them today, wishing to run straight to bed as your far too tired to spend time with them right now.
it’s hours later when you finally wake up- 7pm your clock reads. you’d really hoped that you would just have been able to sleep though the whole night- it seems the universe has other plans for you as you hear your stomach grumble. great.
your making your way down to the common room when you hear a mixture of voices from behind the wall.
“yeah it’s great- but bakugos the luckiest for sure. he’s working with yn on this and she always does well on this shit. maybe it’ll bring your hero media grade up.” it’s kaminari you hear first. your ears perk up when you listen to a mention of your name.
“yeah bakugo how is it? it’s gotta be great working with her. i’m totally jealous.” you manoeuvre quickly to hide yourself fully behind the wall now. they’ve not realised your here yet. you intend to listen fully to what they have to say about you.
“it’s alright- i guess.” you wish you could say you were surprised but alright? if he calls doing all the work for alright then you’ll never do anything for him ever again.
“come on bakugo there’s got to be more to it than that? you finally get her to talk to you yet-?” huh? what does he mean by that? finally getting you to talk to him?
“shut up shitty hair- it’s- no i haven’t!” he’s getting increasingly more frustrated as he continues.
“every time i attempt to make conversation she shuts me out completely. i- i don’t even know what im doing wrong.” his voice sounds rejected as he finishes his sentence. he’s been.. trying to talk to you?
why? it’s the first thing that crosses your mind. why after years of being in the same class- years of mutually ignoring each other why would he now make the decision he’s interested in talking to you?
you can’t listen to any more of this. forgetting all about your hunger you hastily make your way back to your dorm- attempting not to draw notice to yourself.
somehow finding yourself more tired than you were when you first made your way downstairs you flop yourself onto your bed with a confused sigh.
you just don’t get it. trying to wrack your brain for reasons why bakugo would all of a sudden decide he’s interested in you- you fail to find a logical reason.
maybe you should just sleep it off- after your interviews are done tomorrow you won’t have to speak to him ever again if your luckily. you can spend your days avoiding him during classes and in the corridors. it shouldn’t be that hard.
his friends words repeat in your mind. finally get you to talk to him? had he been interested in you for awhile? and for what?
maybe he had been looking for something to make fun of you for- it’s the only explanation you can come up with.
forging yourself to stop dreading over it you take that as your answer. bakugo katsuki is attempting to get close to you so he can find something to poke fun at you for.
you know in your mind that’s not it. even in your tired state you realise that the excuse your giving yourself isn’t the truth. however your far to exhausted- and apparently still hungry to let yourself stress over it any longer as you fall back into sleep.
your alarm wakes you up at a sharp 10am. it’s your emergency alarm for when you accidentally sleep in. fuck.
you have three hours before your supposed to meet bakugo and your already riddled with anxiety over it. waking up late forces you to miss your work out for the third day in a row- maybe you’ll be able to get one in later tonight.
opting to just start getting ready your able to take your time- an outfit choice isn’t needed, you’ll need to wear your hero costume if your doing “hero work.”
it’s 12 when you begin to start thinking about getting something to eat- your ready to leave now, your aswell heading down to the kitchen early.
your heading to your door when you get a knock, opening it expecting it to be one of your friends your shocked when you see- bakugo?
in his hand is a brown bag- the little logo of a local bakery is crumpled but you can still make it out, in the other is a coffee of some sort.
“you didn’t eat last night. picked you up something after my run.” of course he’d went on an early morning run- your almost jealous of his work ethic.
he got you breakfast? it smells good. you can’t remember the last time you went to that little bakery, you’d forgotten how much you missed it.
“how’d you know how i take my coffee?” his eyes shift to the floor at your question- nervousness clearly evident in his voice.
“i uh- i asked raccoon eyes. she said that’s always what you get.” of course he went to mina- it’s not wonder she keeps making crazy assumptions about the two of you.
you offer his a small smile when you answer him- maybe the first you’ve ever given him. “thank you bakugo.”
his eyes go wide at that- “um yeah it’s no big deal- i was getting something anyway.” did he eat it already? your foods still warm- it feels as though he ran straight here after getting it.
“you ready to go?” your snapped out of your trance when you tell him yes- picking up your bag you make your way to the training room that had been set up specifically for this project.
it looks like a real interview set- in the middle of the room is a long table with two chairs- both situated with microphones with a camera catching them both in shot.
you begin to set up straight away- bakugo insists on working on your interview first as a thanks for doing the rest of the work and you take him up on the offer, settling yourself into the seat of the interviewee as he situates himself beside you.
he looks slightly different from how he normally does- less angry, you think. he’s really gotten himself into character- dressing himself a smart-ish shirt, he’s put on his reading glasses, he looks kinda cute.
the lighting of the set is definitely doing wonders for him- you just hope it’s doing you the same justice. he coughs slightly next to you- seemingly to get your attention.
“you ready to go?” he’s looking at you patiently- urging you to take your time.
“i’m good to go- just try stay on script yeah?” your joking with him- similarly to how you would your other classmates. maybe this project isn’t so bad.
he does infact follow the script perfectly in the beginning- opening up your interview- introducing you to the “audience” as he begins the questions.
it’s the usual stuff- questions you’d answered a million times. who inspires you? why did you decide to be a hero? what type of hero do you wish to be? blah blah blah.
“if we asked your friends to describe what it’s like to be your friend- how would they describe it?” you love questions like these- you feel it gives fans a real feel for not only you as a hero- but you as a person.
“i’m hilarious- obviously. but if we’re being completely serious i’d probably describe myself as helpful? i always find joy in being able to help my friends with things their struggling with- it helps i get too tease them about it too.” you flash the “interviewer” a smile to only be met with a deadpan expression.
did you say something wrong? you thought that was a perfect answer- it paints you as a kind but funny person. what’s his problem?
“why do you do that?” his interviewer tone is gone now- seemingly given up on his part.
“do what?” your voice is laced in confusion but in reality your angry. it had been going so well up until now- no arguments, no insults- just getting the project done and now your going to have to start the whole interview all over again.
“your nothing like that- at least not to me.” he’s grumbling as he says it- looking directly at you with that same frustrated expression.
“what are you talking about.” your firm when you say it- edging him to just get to the point of whatever tangent he’s about to go on so you can get back to work.
“you-? it’s just you! your fuckin’ friends with everyone- it pisses me off.” your mouth is slightly agape- what does who your friends with have anything to do with him? you don’t reply.
“it’s just- everyone fuckin’ loves you- apparently your so fuckin’ great to everyone but i can never get that out of you-“ anger is rising in his voice as he continues- getting more and more frustrated as he keep struggling to explain how he feels.
“your always such a fuckin’ bitch to me- always ignoring me- never giving me the time of day and everything thinks m’ fuckin’ crazy because your just soo good.” your anger is suddenly matching his- your such a bitch to him?? does he have any idea about the way he treats people?
“oh that’s fucking rich coming from you- your maybe the biggest asshole i’ve ever met. no wonder i don’t wanna speak to you.” your furious- who does he think he is?? that he thinks he can dictate how you act towards people.
“what?” the tone is his voice is changed now- the anger that was there a second ago seems to have vanished- now replaced with sadness.
“and you ignore me too!- don’t act like our lack of communication is all my fault.” now it’s his turn to be in shock- he doesn’t think he’s ever seen you act like this before.
“your right bakugo- i am a bitch. i’m a bitch to you because i can’t stand you. i don’t like you, not one bit. your a horrible classmate- i can only imagine an even more horrible person just going by the way i hear you speak to people.”
you take a deep breath before you continue- finally allowing yourself to actually look at him- your vision a little blurry from anger, but you can see it clear as day- the complete expression of hurt written all over his face.
you wish you cared- you wished you maybe felt a little empathy for the boy but you don’t- you can’t. you’ve listened to the way he’s treated people for years and now that you’ve started you can’t stop.
“you don’t do it to me- i don’t know why and quite frankly i don’t care. but i hear it, i’ve heard it for years and i wont shy away from it anymore- i believe you to be a bad person bakugo, you’ll make a great hero- maybe. but that won’t change the fact i truly believe you to be a bad person.”
he still doesn’t say anything- the hurt in his face somehow even more evident as the tears threaten to spill from his eyes.
“right.”
he gets up without saying anymore more- grabbing his coat as he makes a b-line for the door- leaving you alone in this stupid interview set.
he’s such an idiot- and too think he really had a chance- of course you would see him for as he was.
he loved you- he had for years.
and you completely hated him.
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itsonlybaby · 8 months ago
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𐙚ᣟʂïč’𝐭𝐡𝐾 đ°đšđ„đŸ 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 đ„đšđŠđ› - 𝐛. đ›đ„đšđ€đžïč’
◜♡ïč’ïč’đ«đžđȘ𝐼𝐞𝐬𝐭ïč’đ­đšđ đ„𝐱𝐬𝐭ïč’đ„𝐱𝐬𝐭
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playlist ! this one is pretty long tbh, i cannot sleep, can only write
Bellamy Blake - Dropship
꒰ à­šà­§ ꒱ ➝➝ You stumble across a knocked-out person, and you drag his body to your cave not knowing what to do; if only you knew what this would lead to. ïč’ ă€€ âŠč  ‷ cw: smut, lots of plot, violence, nsfw, grounder reader
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Finding unusual things in the first wasn't uncommon. In fact, it became a normal occurrence for me. I had loved studying the animals in the Trigeda, always finding them astounding, every one acting a different way, how they'd interact with each other.
It was different from how humans interacted, with the animals it was peaceful; the circle of life. And with humans it was tough, always using violence as the first means of answer, their reasoning always being 'Jus drein jus daun.'
Blood must have blood.
Lincoln had told me about the boat people, how my views and theirs didn't share many differences. But I knew I couldn't condemn my life to one stuck on the water, surrounded by miles and miles of sea and fish.
I loved the wholly green trees, and the spots of color by the flowers when a welcoming spring came; a sign of forgiveness from the harsh conditions of a rough winter just weeks before, when the animals would go into hiding.
When the Sky People initially landed it scared off the animals for miles around the drop ship, it took two weeks for them to return to their natural acts.
I knew Trikru weren't fond of the Sky People, they were like all the other clans- instantly resorting to violence and wars. They fit right in here on Earth.
So when I found a boy who bore the symbols of Skaikru in the middle of the forest unconscious, I had to do something.
I knew what they'd do to him if they found him here, and I'd never forgive myself if I let that happen knowing I could've done something.
I had tried picking him up but he was fairly heavy, and I was fairly weak. I felt bad dragging him, not knowing what lay between the grass but it was the only option I had.
Luckily for him, my cave was nearby.
I dragged him all the way inside my cave before assessing what had happened.
I felt very awkward feeling him up and down, feeling as though I was invading his personal space; which I was. But it was for the greater good.
I think.
Once I was sure he didn't have any wounds I felt his face, his freckles, and dirt hid underneath my palms as I cupped his cheeks. His temperature was high but he was breathing fine, possibly dehydration? Starvation? Either way, I couldn't do anything until he woke up.
I removed his jacket and placed it under his head as a sort of pillow while also trying to take his body temperature down I rubbed a cloth with water across his dirty face.
Once the dirt was off his features were much more prominent, his freckles littered his face with underbags like he hadn't had a good night's rest in days. My guess was either blue or green eyes.
Deciding to let him sleep I backed away from the boy. I stepped towards my meat rack and grabbed two pieces of provisions, then placed the meat on the metal rack above the smoke to get something ready for when he awoke.
It didn't take long for him to wake up, the smell of cooked meat filled the cave in a warm atmosphere.
The boy shot up, looking around cluelessly before his eyes landed on me. He instinctively grabbed for a knife, instead gripping onto nothing.
I probably should've dressed less like a grounder.
I knew little of English, only really hearing it when I went to Trikru villages or Polis.
He backed up into the cave wall, struggling to stand on his feet.
"Shhh," I spoke softly, placing my hands out in a calming manner, if I could calm animals I could calm humans right?
"Where am I?" His voice was loud and rough, it boomed off the walls of the cave.
"Cave," I simply state, grabbing my knife from my pocket as the boy's eyes widen. I knew he'd feel safer if he thought he was in control. I tossed the knife over to him, showing him I had no other weapons.
He quickly leaned in to grab it, now aiming it towards me.
"Why am I here?" His voice was less louder this time, but still fairly rough in octaves.
"Asleep in the forest,"
The dots seemed to connect in his mind as he lowered the knife, still weary about my every move.
My hand slowly went to my side, grabbing my canteen and sliding it across the floor to him.
"Drink," I demanded, giving my best trusting smile.
He kicked it back to me, untrusting the contents. If I wanted him dead I would've done it when he was asleep in the middle of the forest!
Even animals trust easier than this.
"You first," He said.
I rolled my eyes and took the canteen to my lips, taking a small sip to save the rest for him.
Sliding it once again to him he swiftly took it and drank the remaining contents in a very fast manner, like he's never tasted water that good before. His swift actions made a giggle erupt from me, making him look weirdly at me.
"Why?" He asked, placing the knife in its respective holster.
I looked at him confused, unsure of what he was referring to.
"Why save me?"
I thought about the words for a moment, unsure of how much trig he knew- or if he knew any at all.
"I am much kinder than Trikru," I said, walking towards the smoke rack. "Food, eat,"
He wasn't sure if he could trust me, even after I just saved his life, he thought I'd want some unrepayable favor back, or that I was just waiting for my leader to show up.
I sighed and walked to the wall of the cave, sitting down and leaning back on my arms. "Okay, starve," I said.
His face was one of inner debating, not taking long before getting up and taking his share of the meat.
"What's your name?" He asked, now sitting down in the same spot he was before, which was fairly close to me. Though he held the knife in his hands as he ate; I didn't mind.
"Many questions," I say with a smile, "y/n."
He never returned my smile, instead turning his expression into one of seriousness "I'm gonna have questions for the person who dragged me to this cave,"
I scoffed, "You have a knife, gonot,"
There was no use in helping someone who won't take it, it's like chasing a rabbit who doesn't wanna be chased.
The boy rolled his eyes, his head shaking as well, he knew enough to know I told him to leave. He used his knee to prop himself up, heading towards the cave entrance with one last look at me.
Brown eyes. He had deep, brown eyes.
It had been a few days since my last encounter with the brown-eyed boy. I hadn't thought about him much, only before I went to bed, when I woke up, when I was watching animals, and when I was talking to Lincoln. I'd like to think that wasn't much.
I couldn't shake the fact he hadn't even thanked me for saving his life, nobody had ever treated me with such coldness before. Especially after I help them. Maybe it was just a Skaikru thing, maybe they weren't used to common courtesy. He hadn't even told me his name.
The boy on the other hand had also been thinking of me, the grounder who saved him.
Though he didn't like that word.
Instead, he told everyone he camped out in a cave with a grounder that he held hostage. He couldn't believe the grounders were kind, not after the lives they took, the torture they put Skaikru through. But he couldn't help repeating my name in his head, repeating that day over and over.
A grounder saved him.
I wasn't sure why I was so drawn to the boy with the brown eyes, but I just knew I was.
Walking through the forest I was picking random flowers, feeling bad for them as I was ripping them from their bodies stuck to the ground, but it made great feed for the rabbits.
I was twirling the daisy between my fingers when a loud voice boomed off the barks of the trees, scaring the crows from their nests.
"Don't move!" I heard a voice yell from behind me.
My entire body froze in fear, I had never been put in a situation like this, never having made many enemies.
"Turn around, slowly!"
I did as told, moving as slowly as I could until I was face to face with a boy, this wasn't the boy from the cave, this one had bright blue eyes you could see from miles away and a messy middle part with a particularly big nose.
I felt like a deer that was spooked by hunters, everything in me was telling me to run, escape, and take my chances. But my legs wouldn't cooperate with my head. I couldn't take this guy on, I wasn't a fighter, I never learned.
He could sense the fear radiating off me, "Tell me why I shouldn't kill you, grounder." He spoke with such spite as if I was a disease or plague.
I couldn't form any sentences, my heart was beating against the cage of my chest, and I prayed that anybody would come and save me.
I didn't wanna die.
I didn't wanna die before learning his name.
I was about to die and he was the first thing I was thinking of, unbelievable.
"Speak!" He shouted once again, stepping closer to me with his gun aiming towards my head.
"Murphy!" The familiar voice filled my ears.
Murphy, I'm assuming, looked back quickly before letting out an angry groan.
The brown-eyed boy appeared, and when he saw the scene he was angry.
He marched up to Murphy and grabbed ahold of his jacket, making him drop the gun.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" He yelled into Murphy's face, still gripping his jacket as strong as ever, he practically lifted him up.
"Finishing the job man!" Murphy tried pushing the boy off but it was no use, fear seeped into Murphy's voice.
"Finishing the job?" He repeated though it wasn't a question.
"C'mon, Bellamy, she's just a stupid-," Murphy tried reasoning.
Bellamy.
"She's what!?" Bellamy yelled, slamming Murphy into a tree before grabbing him again, "She's what!?"
I couldn't lie to myself, seeing this side of Bellamy was attractive. Knowing he was already so protective over me, I couldn't let him kill Murphy.
"Bellamy!" I shouted.
Bellamy didn't look towards me, instead, he glared into Murphy's eyes before throwing him down and backing away towards the dropped gun.
Only then did he meet my gaze, examining me from feet away to make sure Murphy didn't harm me.
Murphy took a while to regain his composure, standing up and dusting himself off while looking between us.
"Let's go," Bellamy said, looking towards Murphy.
Bellamy stole another glance at me before leaving for their ship, leaving me standing there still processing everything.
That day came and went, and so did the next. I had begun missing Bellamy, I roamed the woods hoping I'd run into him but I never did.
I even debated on just running into their camp, but the big weaponry scared me off. All I could do was hope and pray he was okay, that Trikru hadn't gotten to him first.
I spoke with Lincoln the day after the incident, I told him about Bellamy, about Murphy. And he admitted he too saved a girl from Skaikru, she was Bellamy's sister, and she wasn't like the rest. Octavia was kind, and gentle with Lincoln, a calm contrast to the way most people had treated him.
I was happy for Lincoln, he found someone he was interested in, and it was nice to have someone relate to the same experiences I was going through.
Bellamy was worrying about me just as much as well. After the previous incident, he wasn't sure I could handle myself if another person were to threaten me. The thought alone had his blood boiling.
He wanted me there, in camp, where he knew I'd be safe. But after what happened with the grounders he didn't think the rest of the camp would like that idea.
He tried everything to go outside the walls, to even catch a glimpse of me but he knew the camp needed him there now. The wall wouldn't build itself. He'd always find his mind coming back to me, carefree picking flowers and talking to the animals.
Most would find it crazy but he found it mesmerizing. In such a dark world there was such beauty, and I knew how to find it in even the darkest of times.
I was in my cave when I heard someone call me.
"y/n."
It was Lincoln.
I smiled when I saw him, Lincoln was one of my best friends, well, my only best friend.
"Yea?" I ask, walking up to him, his expression is a mix of anger and worry.
"They're going to attack tonight, the bridge,"
Lincoln didn't need to explain further for me to know what he was talking about.
Trikru was going to march on Skaikru.
I needed to warn them.
I swiftly ran past Lincoln, but he quickly grabbed my arm.
"Lincoln! I need to-"
"Be safe."
I gave him a nod before rushing off to the drop ship, my mind only worrying about Bellamy and his people. With every step, the sky got darker, and my legs began to get sore but I had to push through.
And then I saw it.
The big wooden fence made of scraps.
"Grounder!" I heard one of the men atop the wall yell. "Don't move!"
Bellamy was the first to open the doors, his face turned to one of surprise, but I didn't have time for reunions.
"Don't shoot! She is safe!" Bellamy yelled.
I ran to him, "Bellamy," I looked into his eyes, "They're attacking soon, from the bridge," His expression dropped to a more serious look.
"We know," He said, "Ravens working on a bomb right now,"
My face must've contorted enough for him to notice.
"For the bridge," He finished with a smile.
A breath of relief passed through my lips.
"Come in, I'll catch you up."
It took him an hour to explain everything, from Murphy going missing to him returning with a temporary sickness infecting everyone but the immune. It was something Trikru did to thin out the battlefield, my heart felt for all the souls who couldn't make it past the sickness.
"Bellamy!" I heard a girl from outside his tent call, he gave me a look before exiting the tent and I curiously followed, receiving stares from everyone around us.
"Raven? What's up?" He asked Raven, she had a tan complexion with a high ponytail.
"We did it, now we just need to make it there and shoot it."
Bellamy nodded, "I'll do it,"
I immediately looked towards him, "No!"
"I have to, it's for my people," He said, now looking down towards me.
I couldn't stand the thought of possibly losing him, what if something went wrong and he never came back?
"There isn't any other way?" I pleaded, worry evident in my face and tone.
"Our other shooters are too sick and I'm the last good shot," His hands went to my arms in a comforting matter, "I'll be back before you even know it."
His words did little to calm my worries, but I knew he was set on his decision. All I could do was nod in reply.
Raven handed him a sniper and mixture, "Pour the gunpowder around the jelly, then run far away."
With every word she spoke, I could feel the fear and sadness crawl up my spine.
Bellamy was ready to leave but before he did he looked at me before approaching another boy "If anything happens to her, they answer to me, got it?"
The boy nodded his head in reply.
I watched as he left the gates and as they slowly closed behind him, the anxiety growing within everyone in the camp. If Bellamy failed, it was over for everyone else as well.
For the next few hours, I stayed in Bellamy's tent, lying in his bed and curled up under his blanket which still smelled like him. I was beyond worried for him, I hadn't known him long but I deeply cared for him.
"Don't think I just forgot." I heard a voice say, now entering the tent. It was Murphy.
The same scared feeling returned throughout my body.
"What do you want?" I ask, sitting up off the bed, trying to seem as tough as possible knowing deep down I was terrified of the man standing in front of me.
"You made me look weak!" He shouted at me, his grip on the knife becoming stronger as his knuckles clouded over with a white shade.
"I don't know what you mean," I tried defending myself, Murphy stepped closer and brought the knife to my throat. The cold metal sent shivers and goosebumps down my body.
I wanted so desperately to defend myself, to take action, but I just couldn't.
"Shouldve done it when I had the chance,"
"Done what," Bellamy said before entering.
I almost started crying at the sight of Bellamy, his curly hair now matted in the dirt, but he never looked more handsome.
Murphy instantly dropped the knife and turned around, the moment he did Bellamy's fist locked with Murphy's face, making him scramble on the ground. Bellamy grabbed Murphy by the collar of his jacket and dragged him to the gate, not even letting him get up.
What scared me most is the fact Bellamy hadn't said a word since he found us.
The gates opened and he threw Murphy to the ground, giving him a nice kick to go with it.
Once Murphy was out of the way the gates closed, everyone watching in worry and fear as whispers erupted from the crowd.
Nobody had ever protected me like Bellamy had, I felt more safe with him than I've ever felt before.
Bellamy wasted no time in returning to the tent, seeing me wait there for him.
I ran into his arms and cupped his cheeks, locking our lips together finally.
His hands snaked down to my lower back, pulling me closer into his embrace as he led me to the bed laying me down gently.
I pulled away to catch my breath and he took this time to shrug his jacket off.
"I missed you," I said breathily, smiling up at him while he took his shirt off, revealing his toned chest which I swiftly ran my hands over, feeling every crevice, wanting to engrave the feeling into the pads of my fingers.
"I missed you too, princess," He returned my smile slyly, sneaking his hands under my top and sliding it off with ease, revealing my bare chest as he looked in complete awe.
Being under his gaze made my face flush with a deep red, suddenly feeling vulnerable, it didn't take him long to get his hands working up and down my body, feeling over my breasts and sides before slipping my pants down slowly revealing my soaked cunt, I bit my lip at the coldness meeting my warm pussy.
Bellamy let out a groan, feeling his bulge harden against his tight jeans. Tossing my jeans to the side he slid his fingers in between my slit, coating his fingers in the juices and trailing them up my thighs.
"This fine, princess?" He asked, staring into my eyes with his beautiful brown eyes.
I nodded my head quickly, needing this more than anything at the moment.
I heard his belt unbuckle and his zipper become undone. His hands grabbed my thighs and spread them open before lining himself up with my hole.
Bellamy let out a soft groan after only pressing his tip into me, he slowly pushed deeper into me causing sweet moans and pants to fill the tent.
It was the sweetest sound Bellamy had ever heard, he needed to hear more.
Once Bellamy was fully inside me he began slowly grinding his hips into me, not wanting to fully pull out. The feeling was ecstatic, unlike anything I'd ever felt before.
My hands reached for anything to grab onto, landing on his arms I grabbed onto them as the pain flooded my body from the abuse my sweet spot was going through.
"Doing so good," Bellamy groaned out, grabbing ahold of my hips while my legs wrapped around his waist. He gazed at the facial expressions I was making, the faster he pounded the better they got to him.
Bellamy wanted to be rough with me, to thrust into me until I couldn't take it anymore, but he knew he needed to be gentle with me. At least for now.
His grip on my hips forced me to stay still, unable to properly arch my back making him hit the deepest spots in me. I knew I couldn't last, I knew my climax was reaching me this soon.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck... Bell!" I moaned out loudly, my climax washing over my body as I shook in Bellamy's grip.
The tightening of my pussy drove Bellamy crazy, he couldn't be gentle, not like this, not when I was below him being so irresistible.
His slow thrusts soon turned rough and fast, each thrust ending with wet and lewd sounds.
Tears began streaming down my cheeks at the overstimulation, my hands going to his chest trying to push him away but my attempts were futile.
"Just keep looking pretty under me," Bellamy said, his eyes not looking away from my face, only taking quick glances toward my breasts.
His praises were addicting, making my legs start to shake erratically.
His face was coated in a thin layer of sweat, causing his skin to shine as the light from the small lantern lit the side of his face, I wanted to remember this moment forever, him above me making me feel so insanely good; better than anyone could ever make me feel.
Bellamy's hand trailed up my body and to my neck, he squeezed lightly giving him a better angle to fuck into me.
The pressure on my neck was enough to make me cum again, my body shook uncontrollably as another orgasm washed over me, painting Bellamy's cock in a thick white layer, making it easier to slip in and out of me.
Bellamy was close to his own climax, chasing the high.
"All mine, all mine," He breathed out, leaning down and kissing my neck while giving light squeezes to my neck.
His groans became louder in my ear, and it wasn't long before I felt him pull out and finish all over my stomach.
He leaned into my shoulder and caught up with his breath, smiling into my neck and breathing me in.
"You did so good," His voice was rough, a slight contrast from before.
He stood up slowly and grabbed a nearby cloth to clean me up, discarding it after.
"You're okay?" Bellamy asked sweetly, while I crawled into a more comfortable position on his bed.
"Mhm, lay with me," I said meekly.
Bellamy smiled at the sight of me curled up in his bed, he crawled in beside me and pulled me closer to him.
"Stay here with me," He whispered, stroking my hair lovingly.
"What if Murphy comes back?"
He thought for a moment, "For you? I'd banish him a thousand times over,"
I smiled up at him, placing a small kiss on his lips.
"I'll stay then,"
With Bellamy's fingers stroking my hair, the heat coming from our bodies, and the safety I felt beside him, I drifted off to sleep.
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bakugoushotwife · 1 year ago
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Just Being Neighborly
a/n: y'all gone need the holy water for this one... it was a lovely writing challenge from the one the only @getosbigballsack so if you something with similar themes don't freak out lol. this was super fun and i definitely got carried away LMFAOOO
cw: shew let's see um, threesomes, mfm but the men are involved briefly, oral (m+f receiving), unprotected sex, p in v, anal, dirty talk, pet names, slight dacryphilia, size kink maybe? doggy and reverse cowgirl. unedited as usual, i probably missed something im sorry
wc: please im so embarrassed it's 9k
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They still remembered the day that you moved in. It was a sunny Tuesday in the middle of the summer, the gentle breeze flowing into their townhouse while they sat shoulder to shoulder on the couch playing Fifa. The sounds of car doors shutting and the roll of suitcase wheels on the concrete sidewalk got Satoru’s attention. He pauses the game, and Suguru groans. The lanky young man trips over himself to lean over his best friend and roommate on the couch, peering out of the window. 
“Stop being so nosy and I was beating you.” The other man sighed, moving his long dark hair to his other shoulder so his companion didn’t lay on it. 
Gojo huffs in defense of himself, keeping his bespectacled eyes trained outside. Finally he sees you. You walk back to the sleek Cadillac in the shortest yellow polka dotted sundress in existence, cute white pumps elongating your bare legs even more so. He was drooling and he hadn’t even seen your face. “There’s a babe moving in!” He rejoices, maybe a bit too loud through the open frame.
 Suguru leans over to pull his mouthy friend out of the window, but you too, piqued his interest. The dress was tight, hugging every curve and accentuating your large bust and wide hips. You don’t notice them watching, too busy pulling boxes out of the trunk and setting them on the sidewalk for you to carry in. Satoru wonders what you do for a living. These were expensive townhouses, the two college students only lived there on the account of him being a trust fund baby. 
The more built of the two shoved the other male off his lap, but the lanky man saved himself from falling to the floor. “We should go help her, she shouldn’t carry all that herself.” Suguru suggests like the sweetheart he is. Satoru hums mischievously at the idea. 
“What a great idea, I’m sure the babe will be relieved to have two strong young men living so close!” He grins, elbowing his partner-in-crime. 
“Y/N, are you done yet?” A foreign voice thunders, the sound of dress shoes clack back out to the car, grabbing their attention. Soon a man in a suit comes into view, folding his arms at you. 
You sigh softly and paint your smile on. “Almost, dear. This one’s a bit heavy.” 
“Well you packed it all in there, so whose fault is that?” Your husband chuckles, though he’s not kidding. Satoru Gojo’s nose scrunches up.
“Blegh, he’s an asshole.” He sneered. 
This time, Suguru Geto had to concede to his best friend, the way the man spoke to you was awful, and he was making you carry everything? Disgusting, “Agreed.” 
Satoru gently slapped the other’s chest. “Then let’s go help the babe.” He said excitedly, to which his friend chuckled and shook his head at his eagerness, though he can’t wait to introduce himself to you. The two get up from the couch and slip into their shoes, beginning their descent down the lavish stone steps. He feels a pang of guilt, you’re clearly in a relationship of some sort, but the feeling soon subsides when he remembers his treatment of you. Men like that don’t deserve women like you. 
As if his closest friend could read his mind, he elbows him in the ribs. He’s got a cunning smile on his face, and Geto knows that he doesn’t care about your relationship either. If there was one thing you could count on Satoru for, it was unabashed boldness. 
“I’m thinking we swoop in right, save this pretty damsel in distress.” He wiggles his eyebrows, pulling his glasses down his nose to give his friend a knowing look. He quickly pushes them back up, though Suguru knows that won’t be the last time his companion will pull that stunt. “Or at least offer our strong shoulders to cry on while we carry all her things.” 
Suguru sighed. “Be normal, please, for once.” He pleaded, dark eyes narrowing at the smirk decorating his face. 
Satoru rolled his eyes behind his glasses. Sometimes Suguru was so annoying, and absolutely zero fun. If he had to seduce you himself so be it, but he wouldn’t let Geto sweep in later if he didn’t help. “I am normal, you’re the weak one.” He giggled, sticking his tongue out and scooting down the rest of the steps, smiling brightly once the sun warmed his skin. They stood on the same sidewalk as you, shyly observing you unpack the car. You seem frustrated with one box in the trunk, perhaps the same one you mentioned to your
heathen earlier. 
Gojo smirks, sharing a glance with the ever-stoic Suguru once more. Hands in pockets of his black basketball shorts, he wears that brazen grin all the way to the Cadillac. Suguru walks slowly after him, eyes trained on the ground ahead of him. He would have to be the gentleman to make up for Satoru’s lack of shame. 
The lanky man clears his throat, the summer sun behind him enshrining him in an ethereal glow. You turn to the stranger, taken aback by his almost unnerving beauty. He hooks his glasses on his tight black tee, grinning teeth shining as white as his shaggy white locks.His gaze is the clearest blue you’ve ever seen, you can see the clouds from above you reflecting in his matching sky colored eyes. You arch your brow, unsure what to make of his approach. Just as he’s about to speak, a second man appears. He’s not quite as tall, but his shoulders are broader and features warmer. He smiles softly, black eyes carefully analyzing you. He folded his arms over his chest, abs clearly defined beneath the opaque wife beater. He jutted his chin out to your boxes, but it’s the first visitor that speaks. 
“We noticed you could use some help, miss.” He smiles, icy stare shamelessly raking over your figure. Your cheeks warm under his gaze–no, surely it’s just this summer heat. You’re happily married, moving into these lovely townhomes because of your newlywed husband’s success as a District Attorney. Maybe he wasn’t the most attentive husband–or even the nicest, but he was paying your way and you didn’t have to lift a finger. He did right by you, so you tell yourself. But you must admit, the two young men were right. There was no way you could get that damn box out of the trunk, much less carry it all upstairs to your new dwelling. 
“Oh, well, yes actually. Thank you
?” You say, arching a perfect brow at them. Gojo nearly let out a dreamy sigh, your face was just as perfect as the rest of you. Your brows were immaculately manicured, lashes full and framing enchanting doe eyes that looked at them so expectantly. You were so tempting it was hard for even Suguru to be respectful, sweat beading at your chest so deliciously he had to readjust the gray sweats hanging low on his hips. Satoru hummed, amused by the scene. 
“I’m Satoru, this is Suguru. We live here!” He shared as if it were a treat just for you. 
Suguru stifled a groan. “It’s always nice to welcome new neighbors. May we ask your name?” He asks, leaning forward slightly. You leaned against the bumper of your car, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. They were handsome and not much younger than you if you had to guess. They were certainly capable of helping you carry these last few boxes. There was no harm in introducing yourself. So why did you feel so guilty?
“Oh, I’m Y/N Robertson, it’s lovely to meet you. I’ve been struggling with this box for a while!” You chuckle nervously, patting the offending weight and stepping out of the way for one of them to grab. The white-haired man nodded, showing no signs of regret, repeating your name aloud.
“Y/N Robertson. Was that jerk your husband?” He asks, the permanent glimmer of amusement twinkling in his eye. 
You gasp softly and Suguru’s eyes widen. “I apologize about him, he has issues. I think he was born without a filter.” Suguru apologized, glaring at his counterpart. 
Jerk? Is that too far off the mark? It had been such a stressful move, you did mostly everything yourself, your husband working fourteen hour days and refusing to lift a finger when he was around. You were mostly embarrassed that these two had noticed his treatment, not wanting their pity. “He’s
he’s just been busy with work. But yes, he is my husband.” 
Satoru clicked his tongue, walking forward to effortlessly lift the burden you had been struggling with for the past twenty minutes. “That’s a shame, Y/N. A princess like you doesn’t need to be carrying something like this. But don’t worry, we got ya.” He winks. 
You avert your gaze to the other man, almost seeking solace in his peaceful presence. He’s wearing a faintly smug expression as he lifts the stack of boxes on the sidewalk. Suguru only nods his agreement. “Which one’s yours?” 
You think about it, pulling out your phone to look at the paperwork.. “I’m sorry, I forgot, I’m pulling it up
” You mutter, taking your lip between your teeth. The men share a look. You were adorable. 
“Take your time, we’re fine.” Suguru insisted, giving you another warm smile. It soothes your nerves only slightly and stokes the fire elsewhere. 
Gojo nods. “Yeah, we’re super strong. Don’t worry.” He says, admiring your manicured nails tapping away at the screen of your device.
 You allow yourself to giggle at this, you could tell they utilized the location’s gym facility a lot. Satoru’s black shirt hugged him tightly, swells of his biceps bulging against the hems. He grins at the gift of your laughter, smirking at his friend. Suguru chuckled through his nose, shaking his head at how easily his roommate flustered you. You hiss in celebration.
“Yes! I found it, sorry. It looks like I’m in
408!” You say without realizing. Your innocent eyes blink up at the tall pillars that were your new neighbors and current assistants. Satoru looked like a kid in a candy shop, and Suguru smirked in silent celebration. 
“Right across the way from us. How divine.” Satoru chuckled, turning to make his way up the stairs with the weighty box. “It looks like you’ll be seeing a lot of us!” 
Suguru hummed. “I’m sure we’ll make great friends.” He said, slowly striding after the energetic man. You just padded behind them, watching Suguru’s back muscles glean with sweat, long hair swaying slightly as he trods along the steps. You felt ashamed, eyeing them this way, but it was hard to miss the way Satoru’s shirt rode up to reveal his own toned abdomen and white patch of hair leading to the shorts sliding down his slender hips. You bit your lip and averted your gaze, telling yourself it was just because of the growing wedge in your marriage. You just needed to escape their lingering gazes and deviant smugness. 
Later that evening, the men sat on the same couch that they discovered you on, deciding to play the long game. Your husband was a tool, you were practically in heat just from their eyes on you. It was clear he wasn’t giving you any of the things you really needed.
That was a year ago now, the two college boys are more than in your favor by now. You brought them a tupperware of muffins the very next day, and it kind of became your trademark. You took good care of them, bringing them dinner some nights and supposed “leftover” baked goods. They wondered if your husband even noticed that you started cooking for four. They found any and every excuse to visit you during your husband’s long workdays, often spending the entire afternoon with you. 
When they weren’t with you, they were thinking of you, talking to each other about what they would do when they could share you. They could hear everything through the thin walls, every fight you had, every tear you shed, every orgasm–though they could tell they were faked. It was painful, biding their time until they could make their move, just hoping that the moment presented itself soon. 
Luckily, they didn’t have to wait much longer. It was another regular day, the two were working on some household chores when a door–your door–slamming caught their attention, followed by crying and two voices screaming at each other. 
Satoru dropped the plate he was washing with wide eyes, scrambling for the peep hole. They’ve heard the arguments, but none of them had spilled into the hallway, or had been filled with such emotion on your end. This time it was your husband who cowered in front of you as you screamed and threw his things out of the home. 
“Cheating bastard! You cried, face reddened from all the stress, no doubt. Suguru turns the washing machine on and makes for the door too, fighting with Satoru to see. 
“Honey please–it was a one time—” 
“Oh don’t bother. She sent me everything! This is on the fucking news, you absolute ass!” You huff, shoving a suitcase into the hall. At that, Satoru scrambled to the couch, flipping on the television and pilfering through the channels until the news displayed the reason for such an argument. Even he was shocked, a cheating scandal for the ages. Suguru’s heart dropped as the reporter spoke:
“District Attorney Joel Robertson caught in a blazing hot scandal this evening. The other woman tells all! His secretary leaks the sex tapes–claiming this affair has been going on for years.”
“How could he cheat on her??” Satoru is puzzled, yet grateful. Your dumbass husband has finally given you a reason to leave. It was only a matter of guessing when you would bang on their door. 
Suguru sighs, he never wanted you to be hurt. He knows that Satoru isn’t necessarily thinking about it that way, though he can’t deny the twinge of excitement in the back of his mind. Your dollhouse of a marriage would be over, and he had the perfect idea for revenge. 
“Sex tapes, huh?” Suguru muttered, muscular body pressed into the door to watch your husband pick up all his things strewn about the hallway. He didn’t even look guilty, seemingly fine with your pained tears. You slammed the door in his face. 
“I never want to see you again! You’ll get papers soon!” You yelled from behind your door. Your husband rolled his eyes. 
“Yeah? Well good luck paying for a place like this with no job, you insufferable piece of work.Or finding anyone better than me.” ” He chuckled, the suitcase rolling down the marble hallway and your tears being heard loud and clear after Satoru clicks the TV off. 
“Sex tapes.” Satoru confirmed with the shake of his head. He realized how this had to be affecting you, pressing his face against Suguru’s to try and peek out of the peep hole for any movement within. “How horrible. The secretary’s an ugly anyway, they belong together.” He snorted.
Suguru side-eyed him. Satoru said every thought that crossed his mind, his friend was convinced, however it was hard to disagree with some of his wild statements. This was one of them. You were way out of your husband’s league. He treated you like garbage and then had the nerve to cheat after not even being able to please you? Disgusting. Vile. 
“Should we
?” Suguru poses aloud, not able to stand the sound of your cries much longer. 
Just as Satoru nods eagerly, your door flies open again. This time, you march right across the hallway, raising your pretty fist to knock on their door. Suguru’s lips part in surprise, but you hesitate to actually connect with the firm barrier between you and them. It was almost like the point of no return, the building tension that started the day you moved in would all come to a head if you crossed the threshold. 
You bit your lip, looking back at your entrance. Maybe you should just go back, you were just emotional and seeking out the only comfort you could think of, right?
Satoru flings the door open, not giving you the chance. You’re face to face with the two, realizing they probably saw everything. Your cheeks heat up, your raised hand slowly lowering to your side. You must look a mess, hair disheveled from the countless times you raked your hands through it, eyes red and puffy from crying, tear stains on your cheeks. You make a strangled sob noise, looking at them so sadly it pulls their heartstrings. 
Suguru steps forward, reaching for you. “We heard, we’re so sorry..” He says, and you can see his sympathy for you written in the warmth on his face. You put your hand in his, the feeling of human contact with someone who actually cared was almost enough to make you cry again. 
Satoru huffs, leaning against the doorframe. You’re almost caged between them, feeling their body heat radiating off. His face is embossed with displeasure, eyes darkened in the same way the sky does before a storm. “He’s a piece of shit. Doesn’t deserve someone like you anyway, sweetness.” He says with a look of disgust, shaking his head. 
Suguru covers your hand with his other one, dark eyes bouncing between yours, like he’s trying to figure out what you were thinking. Truthfully, you were embarrassed more than anything. It was one thing to be in a loveless marriage, it was another for that fact to be known across town thanks to your husband’s low morals and high notoriety. You would be a laughing stock. 
“I’m just
embarrassed! I’ll be known around town as his poor wife. I hate that, I don’t want their pity or laughter
just so embarrassing.” You mutter, looking toward the ground. The sentiment makes Satoru pout. Oh how he just wanted to comfort you, for Suguru to lead you into the apartment where you would stay with them forever. 
Suguru frowns. He could tell your tears weren’t for your broken heart, but your devastation. Your reputation on the line, betrayed by a man who had never treasured you. He glances at Satoru, who’s just staring at you with such longing the dark-haired man can’t take it. “We can help you embarrass him, if you’d like.” 
His eyes widen. The words fell from his lips before he could think the better of it, but now you’re looking at him with those pouty doe eyes in confusion, and Satoru has to save the day, picking up your other hand. 
“Yeah, he’s right. We’ve been listening to you fake orgasms for a year now. Dude has some nerve makin’ tapes like he knows what he’s doing. We could really show him.” Satoru chuckles, leaning down from the door frame. You can smell his cologne, something minty with almost a hint of chocolate. He does know what he’s doing, invading your senses like this. His warm body and gorgeous eyes that have been undressing you since the day that you moved in paired with his scent and touch was overwhelming in the best way. Especially with the firm but comforting grip that Suguru kept. His hands were calloused from hard work, cradling the softness of your hand like a newborn. He leans closer too, waiting for some sort of response from you. His dark hair fell in layers around his face, accentuating his strong jaw and cheekbones, pale pink lips smiling softly. He smells of bourbon and cinnamon and some sort of expensive shampoo, the two of them so different and beautiful in their own ways–and both wanting you. 
“What did you..have in mind?” You squeak, your neighbors and acquaintances grin at each other. You didn’t even question their eavesdropping, knowing that they’ve been craving you since that summer sunny day. 
Satoru hums in pretend thought. This was only for show, they had determined what they wanted to do moments ago when they shared that glance. “Make a sex tape of your own, with men that can actually make you cum.” He let a laugh out through his nose. 
Your eyes widen, you open your mouth to speak but find that you don’t know what to say. Have you had a few wet dreams about a moment like this? Maybe, but that didn’t take the surprise out of their reciprocal desire. You looked to Suguru to search for any hint of his friend teasing you, but the man only squeezed your hand and smiled smugly. He could sense your doubt, and it was precious. 
“He’s not joking. We’d love to help you get revenge, dear.” He doubled down, the air around you growing heavy and charged with an energy that made your stomach drop, butterflies replacing your insides. Satoru steps out of your way, and Suguru angles his body the same way. You can pass right between them and enter their townhouse. You nibble your bottom lip, a nervous habit they had picked up on. “No worries, though, if you don’t. We’re here for you irregardless.” Suguru adds on the end, not wanting you to think you must. They wanted you to want to. 
And Satoru sure hopes you do, his gray sweatpants growing tighter at the thought of having you today, and under such circumstances! They hadn’t considered making films with you when discussing their fantasies, but he was definitely down with the idea. He smiles and nods, taking his lip between his teeth to mirror your nerves, but his was anticipation.
Suguru is highly perceptive, he’s hoping you say yes if only for his best friend’s sake. You wrack your brain, you should say no. There’s no way that this can end well, but your desire has piqued. They were right, your husband was horrible at sex, and you’ve been wondering what Satoru’s slender hands would feel like on your body, thinking about Suguru’s sweet smile pressed into your skin instead. Your stomach tingles at the thought, and you know what you want. You want to give in to your desire, you want to be with the men that had actually taken care of you for close to a year, and you wanted your soon to be ex-husband to see how good they could make you feel. 
You take a deep breath and squeeze through their bodies to enter their home. It was clean, like always. They tried to be better about that when you started eating dinner with them. You set your phone down on the table, taking a seat on their couch to blink at them expectantly. 
They shared another look, but this one was one of surprise. There you were, in their house waiting for them to fuck you. They had dreamed of this, and now it was happening. Gojo wastes no time, smirking and coming back inside, pulling Suguru in with him and shutting the door. You don’t miss the sound of the lock clicking, though it made you giggle at his eagerness. He takes his shirt off to avoid having to do it later, and you bite down on your lip again. Though this time it’s because he’s incredibly sculpted, as lean as he is. 
His skin is pale and scarred, you wonder from what, but it only added to his beauty. Every muscle was defined, down to his v-line. You can’t help but notice the ache in his pants, and you nearly sigh dreamily. It’s almost embarrassing how your core throbs, and this was just one of the two. Suguru picks Satoru’s shirt up off the floor, setting it on the coffee table instead. He takes a seat on the couch next to you, and you fight the urge to request his shirt be removed as well. You smile shyly at him, and he chuckles, reaching his hand out to hold your chin. “We’re gonna take good care of you, baby.” He insists, thumbing at your bottom lip. 
Your eyes stare up at him expectantly, taking in the lustful gaze he finally reveals. His dark eyes become half-lidded and focused on your pout. “Can I kiss you sweet girl?” He asks, sharp brow arched. 
You nod eagerly, feeling the cushion on your other side dip with the weight of the other male. He must have set up the camera, surely he wouldn’t allow Suguru to beat him to the punch. Much to your surprise, he only sets his hand on your hip, leaning forward for a better view of his best friend’s mouth covering yours. Geto’s lips are rough like his hands, in a good way. His tongue is warm as it laps over yours, his large hand still holding your jaw. You can feel Satoru’s hands knead at your thighs, but he’s not protesting. He doesn’t even protest when Suguru’s other large hand slips under your ass to pull you up into his lap. He just scoots closer to keep you sandwiched between hard bodies. 
“Yeah this is hot.” Satoru groans, palming himself over his pants when Suguru gently hikes your skirt up so he can access more skin, his thick fingers digging into your doughy flesh. You could feel his lips curl into a smile at his friend’s encouragement, kissing you harder. Your senses were overwhelmed, though you expected and wanted that. He tasted so good, letting your tongue dominate his just for the enjoyment. He nearly chuckles at your eagerness, it seems their desire wasn’t one sided. Your hands tug at his shirt, so he lets you catch your breath so he can yank it off.  “Ah, you gotta match us, angel.” Satoru grins, nimble fingers playing with the hem of your tank top. 
You blush, knowing you have no bra beneath. It was still too hot to wear layers, though your body felt like it was at the highest temperature it had been in a while. You’re so pretty, Suguru thinks, watching you peel your tank top off, bare chest to them. Your tits were perfect, nipples hardening before their very eyes. Satoru groaned, reaching to cup one of your breasts. Suguru’s lips latch onto your neck, his hands still kneading at your thighs. You can feel your cunt dampen as Satoru dives forward, sucking your pebbled bud in between his teeth. You gasp softly at the sensation, Suguru’s eyes open, watching his roommate fondle your tits and feeling you writhe in his lap only made his hardness nestle into your side, making you gasp again. Both of them were going to be huge, and you didn’t know how you would be able to handle it. 
Suguru snaps you out of your thoughts, rotating you in his lap just a little. Your back was flush against his chest, the skin almost burning where you connected. His muscles made you feel like you were sitting against a wall. If not for his warmth and the bulge settled in between your asscheeks, you may have thought you were. Satoru hums, pleased with having more access to you, his tongue swirling your sensitive bud. His fingers pinch the other, the slight pain sending shockwaves through your body, causing you to arch into his mouth. 
Geto chuckles, his hands still stroking gentle paths from your thighs to your hips, where nothing but your skirt stopped him. He arched his brow, jerking the fabric to sit around your waist. “No panties either, sweet girl?”
Satoru pulled away from your chest at this, a thin string of saliva stringing from his plump pink lips to your breast. “Oh dollface, I’m beginning to think you got ready for us.” He chuckles, the sound bright and bubbly as he scoots back on the couch to gaze at your newly revealed pussy. Your head spins from the way they look at you, like you’re a precious jewel. You feel drunk on the mix of their touches, where one was sweet and warm the other was rougher and icy. Suguru continues to press sporadic kisses to your neck and shoulders, trying to find your sweet spots. You whine so darling when he finds them, he can’t help but smirk to his best friend as your eyes flutter shut from the simple pleasure of him kissing your neck and the white-haired boy’s grip on your knees to spread your legs. He groans at the sight of your slick cunt, nodding to Geto. 
“She’s soakin’ Sugu. Hope you don’t mind but I gotta taste.” He hummed, his svelte fingers spread your lips apart and you shiver from the cold air being blown on your center. Satoru giggles, you were so cute like this, wiggling on Suguru’s lap and craving more of them by the second. 
Suguru nodded his permission, obsidian eyes locked on his friend’s sapphire ones. He thought the boy’s excitement was adorable, and yearned to watch the enjoyment of both of you. The lanky boy cooed his happiness and leaned forward to lick a fat stripe down your center, moaning at the taste. Your head fell back on Geto’s shoulder, hand flying to tangle up in white tresses. He giggles again, relishing the way your body responds to him. He does it again, humming at the intense lust in Suguru’s eyes and your sweet gasp. 
“Stop playing.” Suguru warned, biting marks into your skin to give you some pressure and pleasure since his counterpart wanted to toy with you. 
Gojo pouted, but you nodded your head in agreement. “No fun.” He huffed, but dipped his head down to your core for the count this time. You didn’t want him to tease? Fine. He won’t. But just remember that you asked for it. His tongue plunges in your weeping hole, his fingers assisting him in drawing circles around your clit. You moan softly, body jolting at the sudden intensity. Your hips rolled, fucking yourself on the muscle. 
Suguru hums at the sight, his arms wrapping around your waist to keep you from moving too much. It was clear your ex didn’t know how to treat you sexually, either. You feel his warm breath in your ear, Satoru’s fingers replacing his tongue, pushing his long fingers straight to your spongy spot. Your vision spots from that alone, not to mention his lips suckling your nerves. Suguru watches every move, impossibly turned on by the two of you together. 
“You’re so beautiful with his mouth on you like that, sweetheart. Do you like it?” He coos, collecting all your hair and brushing it over your shoulder so he could see all of your perfect face. You nod quickly, and Suguru chuckles, a deep rumble that you can feel in his chest against your back. He realizes that you’ve lost the ability to speak just from Satoru. It’s sweet, but he knows you’re in for one hell of a time. 
“You sure you can handle both of us, dear? I don’t want to overwhelm you.” He asks, eyes focused on the animalistic way Satoru devours you. His mouth was a mess of your arousal, tongue swiping his lips to keep your taste. 
You were already overwhelmed, but it was the best feeling of your life. You didn’t know how you would please both of them, but you knew you could. So you nod. 
“Use your words for me then, sweetheart. We’ll do the color system, m’kay? Green is all good, yellow for slow, red for stop, can you do that for us?” He says, running his fingers through your hair. Your eyes meet Satoru’s, who also seems to be waiting for a reply. You nod again. 
“Yes, ‘m fine, green all good.” You mutter, grinding your pussy against Satoru’s nose even though he was buried in your cunt. He sucks on your clit again, but it makes your stomach jump and your hips rock faster so they know you’re close to your first real orgasm in who knows how long. 
Geto hums his approval, tightening his hold on your waist. “You gonna make her cum for us, Sato?” He inquires, every touch flaming hot. Gojo nods, teeth scraping your bud and it’s all you need to topple over the edge. Suguru’s hands go back to your hips, your fingers tugging on the other boy who still lapped at your nectar. He hums his enjoyment, sitting back on his knees and winking at you. 
“You can pull my hair all night long, angel.” He says, watching your hole clench around nothing. How cute. He flickers his gaze to the man holding you upright, arousal nearly dripping off his tongue. “I think she needs a little break, you wanna taste?” He asks, which confuses you for a moment. How could he give you a break if they were going to swap?
Geto hums. “Of course I do. Come here.” He says, smirking at your bewildered gaze on them. Satoru grins and leans over you, planting his lips on the man who asked. You gasp softly, the sight more arousing than you’d like to admit. It wasn’t necessarily surprising, as they seemed pretty attracted to each other, you just felt ashamed for getting off on it. But you can’t help it, the way they hummed their satisfaction against each other’s mouths was melodic, Satoru opening his mouth for Suguru to utilize how he wants. The latter holds his jaw in similar fashion to the way he held yours earlier, controlling the space between them. He pulls back a little, mostly just to view your arousal covering Satoru’s bratty face and to look over at your awestruck features. He smirks at this, his tongue darting out as he brings Satoru’s face back to his, though they don’t kiss. Satoru whimpers as Suguru licks the sides of his mouth, cleaning all your natural honey off his best friend’s face. 
You gasp softly, not able to stop yourself, “That’s fuckin’ hot.” Satoru chuckles, his hand closing around Suguru’s wrist so he could turn his head in his grip. 
“I agree baby girl. He just had to taste you on my tongue.” He grinned, though that was the exact truth. The flavor of the two of you combined was driving him crazy. His dick throbbed painfully, and he didn’t know how much of this he could take. He releases Satoru in favor of fisting his hair. 
“Let me get her other hole ready.” He demands, and only Satoru knows what he means. The white-haired boy grins devilishly, sitting back on the other end of the couch. He wiggles out of his pants and tosses them over his shoulder, cock slapping his eight-pack. 
He looks at you with that same bare-naked stare he gave you the day you met, his smirk unfaltering. “Lean over and suck my cock, baby. He wants to see it and he's gotta get your ass ready.” He giggles softly, his large hand wrapping around his own length to keep it from aching. Your eyes flicker to the cock in question, aggravated red tip oozing pre-ejaculate down his prettily veined shaft, curving upwards to abuse every spongy spot. He was much bigger than your ex, you knew it would take some time to adjust. Nonetheless, you eagerly slip off of Suguru’s lap, getting on all fours. Suguru takes the opportunity to free his cock from his pants, sitting on his knees so he had a bird’s eye view of you crawling toward Satoru.
Gojo nearly vibrates with excitement, moving his hand away from his length so you could take over. He suddenly pouts when your pretty eyes look up at him, he’s realized he still hasn’t kissed you yet. “Oh no sugar, Can’t have you suck me off if I haven’t even been a gentleman.” 
He hums, sitting up so he could meet your lips. He was greedy with his kiss, lips hungrily moving over yours. You respond in kind, hand resting on the back of his neck where your fingers just brushed over the soft fuzz of his undercut. He moans softly, clearly enjoying the way you play with him. He pulls back with a loud smacking sound, resting his back against the arm of the couch once more, hands folded behind his head. Suguru rolls his eyes at Satoru’s showmanship, but he watches anyway.
“Much better, go ahead, hot stuff.” He coos, looking rather satisfied with himself. Your face is why, so drunk on his kiss that you sit back on your knees and hover over his tip, squealing in surprise as Suguru holds your waist. You can feel his length rubbing against your thighs, positioned under your cunt. His tip collides with your clit so perfectly when you rock back on him, your hips doing so automatically. You moan softly at the feeling, and Suguru hums as your arousal continues to drip around him. 
“I’m gonna fuck you while you give him head, sweetness, ‘s that good with you?” He asks, praying you say yes. He didn’t want to throw too much at you at once, but his dick was beginning to hurt. He sighs happily when you nod. You bite your lip, knowing you were about to feel unimaginably full. You turn your head to peek at his size, finding him not as long but nearly twice as girthy as the dick you hold in your hands. And you already needed two hands for Satoru. You sigh, Satoru’s slender fingers grabbing your chin to pull your focus back to him. 
“Don’t worry ‘bout him angel, I got you soaked enough to take him.” He brags, squeezing your cheeks between his grip. He giggles at your smooshed face and hums, bringing your chin back down to his tip. You batted your eyelashes at him, watching his face carefully as you stick your tongue out and take him into your mouth. He groans at the relief of your warm insides, ego stroked when you gag just halfway down his length. He can feel himself in the back of your tight throat, eyes fluttering shut when you start to bob your head along him. Suguru smirks, enjoying the sight. He can see the muscles twitch in Satoru’s stomach and he can feel your pussy lips move on his dick leading him to believe you’re clenching around nothing. 
He can fix that. He palms your round ass, relishing the way you push yourself back into him while easing more and more of Satoru’s dick down your throat. It’s gorgeous, Gojo’s soft moans and the choking gags of you trying to take all of him. Your throat squeezes him perfectly, his hand coming down on the back of your neck to keep you there. He forces his eyes open, wanting to remember the way you look with his cock stuffed deep, tears rolling down your face. All three of you have forgotten about the camera, just performing for each other. Satoru can tell when Suguru plunges in by the way your eyes widen and you temporarily stop moving. Though you don’t have much a choice once Suguru starts rolling his hips against your asscheeks. The burn as he stretches you out is delicious, making you moan around Satoru. He moans in return, the vibration of your voice going straight to his balls. He can’t help but slightly buck into your warm mouth, Suguru’s slow thrusts giving you time to adjust. 
You clench around him and that sensation alone is so good he almost moans. Satoru wasn’t lying, he made sure you were absolutely drenched to make accommodating his friend’s size as easy as possible. Your walls were still so choking and spongy, he can feel a tingling sensation shoot down his spine. He watches you get used to him, your hips slightly wiggle back for him, and you resume bobbing along Satoru. It was hard to breathe with such a task at hand, you took deep breaths through your nose, but you still felt dizzy as Suguru picked up his pace. 
Satoru watched the pleasure wash over Geto’s face, the man’s eyes closing and mouth dropping open. It was so hot, especially with the way you squeezed around him. It was too much, he knew he wouldn’t last long like this. Your pretty face at his cock, burying your nose in his snow colored pubes paired with Geto’s soft grunts as he plows into you and the sound of his balls slapping against your ass was sending him hurtling towards the finish line and he didn’t want this to end yet. He didn’t want to shoot his load in your mouth—not this time anyway. 
Suguru settles into a regular pace, trying not to falter when you squeeze down on him like this. His thrusts are powerful, pushing you into Gojo’s trimmed bush with every rock of his hips. The men are rewarded with the sweet sound of your gags, to which they both cherish. He tries to be gentle as he gathers some spit on his fingers, tentatively sliding the spit around your tight ring while he keeps you drunk on dick. You mewl softly as his thick index slips in, both holes squeezing on him so fucking good he groans. Suddenly, there’s a rubber band ready to snap in your gut, making you gasp around the girth keeping you from speaking, as if you could do much of that anyway.
The man responsible hums, giving your ass a gentle smack. “Gonna cum for us again baby?” You nod along Satoru, and he beams with satisfaction. “Go ahead, get my dick nice and wet for me.” His words are so lewd that you can’t help but obey, gagging on Satoru as you try to cry out. The slender boy can’t handle it, biting down on his lip to avoid  the inevitable. 
“Sugu, not gonna make it like this..” Satoru says in a whiny tone, watching your ass ripple into Geto’s hips and your face contort in added bliss. Suguru peeked at his friend’s pouty face and chuckling at the blown pupils and flushed cheeks of the bratty male. 
“That’s fine bubs, we’ll change it up. I’m sure that throat needs a break.”  Suguru hummed, running a hand through his hair to push it out of his face. He didn’t want anything obscuring his view of your perfect mounds. He lightly spanked the flesh, relishing your little squeal. He treasures his last few pumps of you, knowing he would give his whiny counterpart your sopping hole. Satoru releases your hair, smiling brightly at the sight of your ruined face. 
“Now those are some tears I can get behind, princess.” He coos, thumbing them off your pretty face. He brings your mouth back to his, not willing to give you any time to breathe. You’re gasping against his lips, but your hold on his shoulders begs him to come closer. Suguru continues prodding your hole, spitting on the second entrance of yours he’d be taking. He slips a second finger in, and you don’t complain. You sigh into Satoru’s mouth and tug at his hair, lips smacking against each other's messily. Geto loves watching this, his other hand stroking his aching erection. 
Satoru watches his friend, trying to sync his timing to his. He was only trying to keep you occupied so the other man could work your asshole, knowing it would be a big stretch, Satoru was content to make out with you until he comes untouched, but he knows Suguru won’t allow that to happen. He nods, now able to scissor his fingers in your hole. His strong hands grip your hips, pulling you from the white-haired man which earned a whine from you. 
“You’ll get Satoru back, beloved, don’t worry.” Suguru rasps, pulling you back into his lap, facing away from him as you did earlier, the only difference being your knees folded under you as if you were still in doggy. You felt a little guilty with his comment, not wanting to prefer one over the other. So you lay your head back on his shoulder, using two fingers on his jaw to turn his face close enough for you to push your lips on his. Satoru loves the sight, the two sexiest people he knows making out right in front of him! The only thing that could possibly make this better is what they’re planning on next. Gojo walks forward on his knees, once more caging you in. It’s his mouth you feel soothing the marks his friend left earlier, breaking new patches of skin to bruise of his own. 
Suguru’s hand cups your cheek, his kisses deliciously slow and sensual. He didn’t want his hard work to go to waste though, so he lifts you slightly, lining his cock up with your asshole. He breaks the sweet kiss, “You think you can take both of us, baby?” 
“Oh she can do it, poor girl needs it.” Satoru hums, tucking some of your hair behind your ear. “Isn’t that right?” 
You nod. If you thought you were incapable of speaking earlier, then maybe you’ve never had good sex in your entire life. “Green, go for it..wan’ have both.” You whine, making Satoru light up. 
“You heard the lovely lady.” Satoru purrs, hands on your waist as a means to push you onto Suguru’s cock if he doesn't do it fast enough for his liking. Suguru just chuckles through his nose and shakes his head. 
“So impatient. Very well.” He hums, using his leverage on your hips to slide his tip past the squeezing ring of muscle. He grips your hips harder than he means to, undoubtedly leaving semi-permanent marks. It was impossible not to, he was trying to slowly inch his way in, but your ass was sucking him in so good he had to slowly shove the rest in. You let out a loud wanton moan, bordering scream. Satoru moaned from the sight and sound alone, his only touch being his hands on your waist. He was going to claim your cunt, no doubt, but he had to let you get accustomed to Suguru’s rod in your ass. 
He just lets you sit on it for a moment, partially for his own benefit. He had to get himself under control or he would bust immediately, and ruin everything for Satoru. And he would never hear the end of his mouth if he did. You feel so full, the pressure of him stretching everything open makes you see stars. You yearn for movement, for some relief on your throbbing clit, so you whine, watching Satoru’s face morph into surprise as you try to bounce on Suguru already. 
The man moans, the first one he’s let loose all evening. It’s deep and once again thunders against your back. You were better than the fantasies he had conjured in his head, and he was determined to give you the time of your life. So he aids you in your bounces, his rough hands supporting your weight and dragging you up and down his shaft at his own pace. It was still too good, the warmth and tightness choking down on him perfectly.
“Fuck her, Satoru.” Geto breathily demands, the gravelly tone of his voice sending a chill to both you and the man he ordered inside you. Satoru didn’t hesitate, his knees situated between Suguru’s. He lined up with your entrance, tugging you forward just a bit which must have deepened the long-haired man’s connection as you started moaning so lewdly Satoru wondered if he’d paint your walls just by pushing inside. He couldn’t watch your poor pussy clamp around nothing any longer though, bottoming out in you and holding your cheeks in one large hand. He enjoyed how your sounds changed, sounding warped due to your smooshed face. He smiled, your cunt tightening around him, meaning it got even tighter for Geto. 
“You heard the man, ‘m gonna fuck you angel. Let us know you’re okay.” He cooed, and even though his words were sweet he almost sounded like he was teasing you. 
You nod, eyes closed tight and nose scrunched at the sensation of two huge cocks stuffing you full. You thought your intestines must be forced to move to accommodate them, heavy breathing and soft grunts in your ears. “Good, so good.” 
Satoru nodded, kissing your forcibly puckered lips sweetly as he began to move inside you too. His eyes roll back for a moment, everything about this was perfect. Your silky walls pulsating around him, the feeling of Suguru’s cock rubbing against his only separated by a thin wall of tissue, the look on his lovers faces. He groans, tossing his head back as he fucks into you harder. He dreamed of a day like this, and now he could only pray this wasn’t a one time thing. He was already addicted to this, and by the looks of it so was Suguru. He hadn’t ever seen the man so relaxed, though he enjoyed it immensely. As if he could feel his stare, Geto opens his eyes to make contact with the man staring. He winked, a slight smirk. Your hips continued to buck, getting fucked no matter how you moved. Forward onto Satoru’s curved length abusing your pleasure spot or backwards onto Suguru’s impaling girth splitting you open. You feel that familiar sensation of fire building in your gut, your pants and moans getting closer together. The men look at each other, nodding breathlessly. They were close, like they had been since the moment they saw you undress. The feeling of your choking walls on both ends made it impossible to hold out any longer, though your body spasms tell them they won’t have to. Your grip on Satoru’s hair tightens, a wailing moan signifying your release as if the rush of cum surrounding Gojo wasn’t obvious enough. 
“Oh fuck, you’re gonna get both loads love, you want that?” Suguru grunts in your ear. 
You nod vigorously, head so empty you could only collapse against his chest, making him support the full weight of you. He didn’t mind at all, grinning ear to ear. He was hanging on by a thread, but it was his job to make sure everyone was happy. 
“You first Sato.” He groaned, clearly struggling. 
“With me.” The man pouted, the deal so sweet that Suguru couldn’t refuse. 
He nods, “With you.” He gulps, waiting for the tell-tale crinkle of Satoru’s nose to tell him when to release the burning coil in his gut. Satoru could tell that he was waiting for him, his thrusts to your cunt menacingly rough. It only takes a few more before his nose crinkles and mouth drops open, cock twitching inside you fucked out cunt. 
Suguru gasps softly, his hot load spurting off like an erupting volcano, quickly filling you up and forcing the rest to ooze out around him despite how well he plugged your hole. Satoru’s seed spills out into you like a dam had been holding him back, both sensations so warm and messy and delicious that you moan softly at just the feeling, head spinning as it falls back onto Geto’s shoulder with heavy breaths. 
Gojo slumps forward slightly, kissing your jaw with the most tenderness he had displayed all night. “I knew you could do it, hot stuff. That was fucking amazing.” He hums, fishing for an article of clothing to put under you. He finds Suguru’s shirt, and raises up enough to slide it under you with Geto’s help. They couldn’t have you staining the couch, now. Gojo slides out of you, leaving you on Suguru’s comfortable lap. The black haired man smiles at you sleepily, pushing some of your hair out of the way. 
“Yeah, it was, we hope you had a good time?” He hums as Satoru goes to stop  the recorder. 
You giggle and nod. “Yeah, yeah I did. I guess it’s time to get cleaned up and back to my place, for as long as I still have it.” You chuckle dryly, your entire body was a pile of mush, and you couldn’t move if you tried. You just didn’t want to overstay your welcome or make your problems their responsibility, despite their eagerness to take care of you. 
Satoru comes back with three bottles of water and a sheepish look on his face, an oddity for him. “I may or may not have forgotten to press record.” He says with a slight grimace, handing out the waters as an apology. Your amusement is clear, and you wonder if he did it on purpose.
Suguru laughs, and he can’t figure out if it’s at you or Satoru. “Hm, what a predicament. You’re not going anywhere.” He squeezes your hips and lifts you off his length, setting you back in his lap regularly. “We’ll get you cleaned up, and then you don’t have to worry a hair on your pretty little head about your place. You can stay here.” He said matter of factly, his arm hangs possessively around your waist. 
Gojo hums. “We could use a sweet lady like you. We’ll make up for that year of faked orgasms.” He winks and takes a swig of water. They make a convincing argument, and with the way Satoru wipes the pearls of cum off your legs and the way Suguru carries you in his arms to start a shower, you have no doubt that they will take care of you.
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kierahn · 1 year ago
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yandere prince x butler m reader
TO DEFY HIM. [ y ! prince x m ! butler reader ]
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yandere! prince x butler! male reader
[ nsfw, minors dni. ]
warnings:
noncon elements
blackmailing/threatening
exhibitionism
slight gore
general yandere behaviour
DEAD DOVE ELEMENTS (in very big and bold letters. please proceed w/ this warning in mind.)
request here.
i'm not sure if anon wanted nsfw or not, but i decided to include it anyways. sorry if you didn't want any nsfw with your request anon.
× your family had continuously served the royal family for generations which meant that you were fated to do the same someday. you met the young prince back when you were still in training. he was three years younger than you which made you view him as if he was your younger brother.
× he had always been the timid one out of all the other princes which made him the black sheep of the royal family. he was barely given any attention from his own family and the servants. it was a pitiful sight watching everyone neglect him simply because he refused to speak up like the rest of his brothers.
× so you decided to step in. you became a source of light for him; like the light found at the end of a dark tunnel, a breath of fresh air. you made him feel seen for once.
× as you two grew together, so did the young prince's obssession towards you. you were eventually assigned (at his request) to be his personal butler at the age of sixteen. his main rule ? never leave his side.
× at first, you disregarded the obvious hints of his growing obssession, claiming that it would eventually fade once he meets more people. he was only thirteen that time, you figured that he needed time to adjust with other people.
× however, this theory of yours was disproven when he turned 21. his obssession with you only grew with time and more rules were implemented over your head. it had gotten to the point where you started to feel both isolated and suffocated.
× you were restricted from talking to the other servants, restricted from sleeping in a different bedroom other than his own, restricted to say no to his orders, and many more. he was basically molding you into his ideal, obedient puppet.
× but then he drew the last straw when he decided to restrict you from contacting your family. that was when you finally decided to cut ties with him, unconcsiously snapping and raising your voice at the young prince.
× "you dare raise your voice against me ?" caine's dark eyes turned cold. you turned on your heel to storm out of the room after hearing his indifferent reply, frustration clouding your judgement. you seem to have forgotten that this was the prince you were taking out your anger on.
× before you could step out of the room, your path was blocked by two knights entering the room with your parents held captive in their grip. you stared at your parents with wide eyes before snapping your angered gaze towards caine for some sort of explanation. however, your anger subsided as soon as you saw the look on the prince's face, realizing that you were now treading on eggshells.
× it was a clear threat. no words needed.
× "your highness, please–" you frantically pleaded. caine had ordered you to willingly give yourself up and to pledge your loyalty to him in exchange for your parent's safety. as expected, you agreed to his conditions with little to no hesitation, desperate to keep your parents alive and unharmed.
× "they don't need to be here ! send them away– hng.. hah ~" caine ignored your words as he worked his way through your uniform, slipping off your vest and unbuttoning your blouse with haste. he attacked your neck with kisses, his other hand trailing through your bare skin, eliciting soft whimpers from you.
× the guards stood by the door, keeping your parents still and forcing them to watch the scene as ordered by caine. he wanted to make a point; wanted them to watch him take you, their beloved son.
× you continued to beg for caine to send your parents away before continuing, even as he stuck his finger inside your hole, you cried out for him not to do it in front of your parents. you could only look away in shame as you felt their stares on you and the prince, holding your arms over your tear-filled eyes as the pleasure eventually settled in after he was three fingers in.
× you felt guilty, knowing the fact that you got hard at the thought of being watched as you were pounded into roughly by the prince. you couldn't do anything but apologize repeatedly. ".. nhg.. a, am– sorr..y ! hng~ m..om, da..d." you sounded so broken as your moans and sobs mixed together to form a sweet sound.
× caine leaned in to capture your lips into a heated kiss as he thrusts himself deeper into you, not stopping a single second. the sounds of skin slapping against each other, your muffled moans, and your parents' sobs were the only sounds that filled the room.
× out of rage for putting you in such a humiliating situation, you made the mistake of harshly biting down on caine's tongue when he tried to slip it inside your mouth, making the prince stop his movements and pull away from you with a bleeding tongue. he sent you a harsh glare, his hand shooting out to grab a fistful of your hair.
× "are you testing my temper, y/n ?" he hissed angrily, blood dripping down his chin from the bite. "perhaps you want to be punished." he says lowly, a slight growl in his voice before facing the guards that were holding your parents in place. his eyes glowered towards your father's look of terror. "cut off the father's tongue, and do it slowly." he ordered coldly, emphasizing the last word.
× your eyes widened as soon as you hear your father's scream, realizing that you've made the mistake of defying the prince. you tried to push caine off of you, struggling under him as you yelled out towards the guard that carried out the order. "NO !! Stop, dad — PLEASE STOP IT !!"
× you were pushed back down to lay on your back, your wrists pinned above your head. caine resumed to drive his cock into you, with more force this time. your sobs and moans filled the room along with your father's scream and your mother's pleads for the guards to stop.
× you felt a knot form in your lower abdomen, indicating that you were close. after a few more thrusts, you both reached your climax at the same time. your chest rose up and down rapidly, trying to catch your breath. you cast your hazy gaze towards your parents after you felt caine pull himself out from inside of you, his load slowly trickling down your thigh. the last thing you saw was the guards releasing your parents from their hold, your mother rushing over to your father's side as he held onto his bleeding mouth.
× your chin was gently moved to face the prince who hovered above you which snapped you back to your senses, his gaze soft; a contrast to his cold-hearted actions. "remember this moment, or else i'll have to remind you again about what happens when you try to leave me."
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into-crazy · 7 months ago
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hot tub surprise
Negan Smith x Female Reader one shot
Non-apocalyptic AU // The Walking Dead AU
Summary: You sneak over to your older next door neighbor's house and use his hot tub. Hoping that he'll come out and catch you.
Warnings- mature language, alcohol consumption, age gap(reader's over 18, Negan's in his 40s), breaking and entering, NSFW, SMUT, slight masochism, masturbation, degradation, fingering, oral sex, unprotected sex, ages 18+
Author's Note: There were a few times where I had to stop and take a deep breath to calm down because it got pretty hot lol. But I had a lot of fun writing this one, I hope you guys like it♡
💕divider by @saradika-graphics
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There was something you always liked about your next door neighbor, Negan Smith.
Maybe it was because you were into older men. It could be his cocky, devil-may-care personality. Or perhaps it was that deep husk in his voice that always made your pussy throb. But ever since he's moved here you've had your eyes on him.
You are under the impression that perhaps Negan was attracted you too. As he showers you with compliments every time you see him. There have also been a few times where you've caught him staring at you a little too long. And he's always searching for a reason to be able to "accidentally" touch you in some way.
However, he's never actually told you or made some sort of move. Though neither have you.
The reason being that you are still currently living with your parents. One of them is always around which makes it difficult for you to try and flirt with him. You don't want your parents to know that you're attracted to your older neighbor. What would they think if they found out? Certainly they would disapprove. What makes the matter even worse is that Negan is really good friends with your father. So.. double yikes.
Still, you're always looking for the perfect opportunity to make a move on him.
Luckily for you, your parents are going out of town this weekend to celebrate their anniversary. Your father took another day off from work so that they can come back on Monday. That way they have more time to spend alone together. So there had never been a better opportunity for you than now.
Negan's got a hot tub in his backyard. He had it installed last year. On cool, windy nights he's often in there. In nothing but his black swim trunks, with a glass of whiskey in his hand. You know this all too well because you have a perfect view of it from your bedroom window. It would be embarrassing to admit how many times you've looked out of your window to see if he was out there. Not that you're a total stalker. Only staring at him for no more than a few seconds before carrying on with your day. But man, seeing his wet body sure does make everything better. That broad, hairy chest and those toned, tattooed arms glistening from the water. You've certainly fantasized about being with him in that spa plenty of times. Straddling his lap and making out with him until one of you takes it further.
Negan had said that your parents or even the three of you could go over to use it anytime you wanted. Your parents had went together a couple times. You didn't want to feel like a third wheel, so you didn't go when they invited you. There wasn't any way you would go by yourself, as it doesn't seem appropriate. However, now that your parents are going out of town for a while.. perhaps you could make something work with that.
//
Thursday evening.
Your father and Negan are sitting on the patio, having a couple of beers. When Negan asks about weekend plans, your father tells him about their anniversary getaway. How this is their 25th year together and they wanted to do something special. They are going to be staying at a luxury, spa hotel next to the lake. Spending the entirety of their time there relaxing by the water, drinking expensive wine, and getting full body massages.
"That sounds very nice, the two of you will have a great time." Negan offers his thoughts on the matter. "Twenty five years? That's fucking remarkable."
"Yeah, thanks. We're really looking forward to it." Your father replies before downing the rest of his bottle. "Hey, y/n!" He calls for you from outside.
You poke your head out, briefly locking eyes with Negan and giving him a nod before looking at your father. "Yeah?"
"Could you grab me another beer, sweetheart?"
Negan leans forward, holding his bottle up. "Make that two, would you?"
You go to retrieve them and your father asks Negan if he has anything going on this weekend.
Negan takes the last sip of his beer, taking a second to ponder on it. "Do I have something to do? Uh no, not much." You come back outside with two beers in your hands. Walking over to them you hand your father his beer first as he was closer. "Think I'm gonna spend the weekend drinking and relaxing, myself." You go to give the other bottle to Negan. His hand reaches out to grab it as he keeps talking, "maybe take a dip in the hot tub." His fingers brush over yours as he takes the beverage. You look at him and he gives you a half smirk, "thank you darlin'."
"You're welcome." You smile back at him before turning around to go back inside. God, the tension you've just felt. Also, that pet name definitely made you blush.
Good thing your father was focused on popping opening his bottle and didn't notice the exchange. Because you were certainly burning up after that. Why does Negan keep doing that to you? Surely he must know the effect he has on you. And that mention about his hot tub was certainly a jab at you. Yeah.. he knows. He fucking knows!
//
Friday arrives.
You had work/studies the whole morning. But your parents spent the time getting everything ready for their trip. Making sure that they had their bags packed, and checking to see that things at home will be in order while they're gone. Once the afternoon rolls around, you are in the driveway waving your parents goodbye.
"Have a great time- and drive safe!" You call out just before they drive away.
Finally, you will be home alone for the next few days. Which means you'll have Negan all to yourself.
You've come up with a bold plan. Something risky. You are going to make the first move. Show him how very interested you are in him.
Negan had left his house shortly after the sun had went down. Which wasn't an issue for you, since that would make it much easier for you to carry out your plan.
You picked out the hottest, most revealing bikini that you own and booked it over to Negan's house. Making sure that none of the other neighbors see you before letting yourself in through the backyard gate. It wasn't new to you as you've already been here quite a few times for casual hangouts and such with your parents. But it's now the first time you been over here by yourself. It brings on a surge of adrenaline.
Taking the time you have to set the mood, you start up the spa. Turning on his radio and setting it on low to your local station that plays all the best love songs. After everything seems to be set, you take off your clothes and climb into the large tub. Settling into the water with a sigh. The water is hot and the jets feel amazing on your back. Now you know why Negan loves this thing so much, it's incredible!
Some time goes by before you ultimately hear the sound of a car pulling up front. You get up out of the water and sit on the edge of the tub. On the farthest one, that way you are facing the back door in which you anticipate Negan will come out from. There are lights being turned on inside, confirming that he's home. Your heart pounds faster in your chest when you realize they're getting closer. Then the light above you comes on, the door swings open, and out steps Negan.
The instant his eyes land on you he is visibly shocked. "What the hell- y/n? What are you doing here?"
His eyes travel down your entire body then snap back up to your face. You're wearing the tiniest fucking bikini he's ever seen, it's barely covering anything!
You bite your lip, looking him up and down. He's got on a fitted tshirt with some dark jeans, and his leather jacket folded over his arm. You grin at him before reply, "hi Negan. I hope you don't mind that I came over for a dip, since you said I could anytime." Using one hand to brace yourself on the tub, you lean back and spread your legs. Running the other hand teasing up your thigh. "I'd really like it if you'd join me."
He speaks to you with a mixture of anger and urgency, "damn it y/n, this seriously isn't the-" Something cuts him off.
"Hey, there you are." A woman suddenly steps out of the house looking for Negan. You quickly close your legs, startled by this new woman's presence. Her gaze immediately widens at you before turning towards him, "I'm sorry, who's this?"
This is one of the most embarrassing things that could have ever happened to you. Clearly she saw you flirting lewdly with Negan. You search around desperately for something to cover up, but there's nothing nearby. The lower half of your body is frozen in place and refuses to move. So you sit there awkwardly. Managing to get out, "shit, I'm so sorry. I-I didn't realize you had company."
The woman still stares at Negan, expecting an answer. He sighs, "this is my neighbor. She lives right next door. Look I swear, I didn't know she would come over like this. But I know her parents and we'll find a way to deal with this."
He looks at you with disappointment in his eyes, which crushes you even more. You wish you could just go back to prevent this from happening.
The woman still appears uneasy about the whole situation, and rightfully so. You've just completely interrupted their evening. She motions towards the door, "yeah I think I'm going to go. You obviously have something here you need to take care of and I really don't want to stay for that."
Negan swears under his breath, shaking his head before replying. "Yeah, I understand."
He opens the door so she can go inside and grab her things. As she goes in, he directs his attention towards you. "Stay right there. Don't you go anywhere, young lady."
You give him an apologetic nod and he steps in after the woman. Sinking back into the water as it gives you some form of coverage. This sucks. It seriously does. Now you're worried that he's going to tell your parents about this, fuck! You use the time to come up with something, to beg him not to tell on you.
A minute or so goes by before the opening of the door catches your attention. Negan steps outside. He takes a few steps towards you, then plants his feet and crosses his arms. He looks beyond pissed. "Well then, would you mind telling me what the fuck you think you're doing?"
You tense up, unable to make or hold eye contact with him. Instead choosing to stare down at the water in front of you. "I-I'm really sorry, Negan. I shouldn't have come over like this."
"No you shouldn't have, this is highly inappropriate." He berates you more. "And you know that. What the hell were you thinking?"
Tears start to form in your eyes. You feel like a dog that's being scorned for peeing on the carpet. "I know it is, and I'm so sorry.. But I promise to never do it again. I'll just go home okay. P-Please don't tell my parents about this."
Negan clicks his tongue sharply at that. "Shit I don't know. There's a lot you did that I can't just let go. Breaking into my backyard, using my stuff without asking, wearing practically nothing and then opening your legs in front of me like a fucking slut."
You miss the way his tone changes towards the end of that last sentence. "I sincerely apologize, and especially for ruining your date. I didn't mean to do that. I won't do it ever again."
He exhales heavily. "Look at me."
You muster up enough courage to bring your gaze up towards him. He looks hot when he's mad. And you hate to admit it, but his scolding gives your core a pleasant sensation. It's a strange feeling, you're unsure how to describe it. Your thighs squeeze together as a result of that. Negan seems to have caught on to that as well.
"I guess I don't have to tell your folks about any of this," he starts. "And I won't tell them, if you get back up that ledge and spread those legs again."
"I'm- you want me to do what?" You reply shakily. Not sure whether you heard him correctly or not. But that heavy look in his eyes tell you that he was dead serious.
"I said get back on that Goddamn ledge and spread those pretty fucking legs for me. You want me to keep my mouth shut, don't you?"
A shiver rattles your spine at his words. You nod, "mhm."
He gives a hum. "What are you waiting for, then? Get your ass up there."
You emerge from the water and sit right back where you were before. Doing as you're told and opening your legs. Shame and arousal mix together pleasantly throughout your body when you notice his gaze trailing over every part of your body.
Negan gives a wolf whistle, "Hot damn that is a wonderful sight to see." He is at the other side of the tub now, leaning against it to get a better view. "Now do me a favor and undo those straps, sweetheart. I wanna see it all."
Using your hand you release every strap of your bikini. Starting first with the top, then the bottoms. Letting the articles fall onto the floor behind you. You are now completely naked, your plush breasts and warm cunt on full display before Negan.
He licks his lips, "shit baby, you look absolutely fucking gorgeous." There is a tent at the front of his pants, indicating that he's getting hard from the sight of you. He removes his own clothing, stripping down to his boxers. Then he climbs into the tub, sitting at the opposite end of you. "Go on and touch yourself."
Your fingers move to your clit, drawing circles at a teasing- yet pleasurable pace. Inserting them into your aching hole then bringing them back to smear your wetness around your bud. Releasing moans and whimpers that are music to Negan's ears.
He runs his own hand over his bulge. His breath is getting heavier, "is this how you touch yourself when you're thinking about me?"
"Yes," you nod, admitting that you do.
"Yeah, I bet you think about me every time huh? Thinking about my fingers instead of your own inside you. Sitting that pretty ass on my face while I eat that pussy. Or my cock slamming in and out of you as I fuck you dumb. Is that right baby?"
Your hips stutter as you listen to every filthy word that left his mouth. "God, yes.. I think about you all the time Negan. I want you s-so bad."
A chuckle leaves his lips. "I know you do." He leaves the wall and comes closer to you. His hazel eyes filled with lust. "And you wanna know something? I want you too." Standing directly before you, he places his large palms on your thighs. Gliding them up to your stomach. "I've wanted you for so long, you have no fucking idea how crazy it drove me." He brings his face closer to where his lips are almost touching yours. "And now that I've got you all to myself I'm gonna take my time and enjoy every second of it."
He leans in, capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss. Slipping his tongue into your welcoming mouth, you can taste the whiskey that he'd been drinking. The roughness of his beard scratches pleasantly against your soft skin while he devours you. One of his hands caresses your breasts as he trails wet kisses and marks down your neck. Pulling back slightly to look at your breast when he rubs and pinches at your peaked nipple. "You've got some nice tits." He states, taking it into his mouth to suck on the bud.
Your fingers run through his hair while he sucks marks on to your chest. Meanwhile your core is aching for some attention, your hips press against him. "Negan, please."
He chuckles at your neediness. "Look at you squirming for me. Don't worry, I'm gonna give you what you need." Sliding further down your body, he brings his face to your pelvis. Wrapping his arms around your thighs, wasting no more time as he buries his face in your eager cunt. He licks a long strip up your slit towards your clit, letting out a deep groan. "Fuck, your pussy tastes amazing." He laps at you a few more times before his tongue travels upward to lick and suck on your clit. Inserting two of his thick fingers into your dripping entrance, he begins pumping them in and out of you. Skillfully curling them against that spot that immediately gets you closer and closer to your orgasm.
"Oh f-fuck, right there- please." You moan, right on the verge of sweet release. Trying hard not to be too loud as to not alert any of the neighbors.
He can feel by the tightening of your walls that you are about to cum. "Go ahead baby, cum all over my face."
His approval was everything you needed. Your orgasm gushes out of you while you let go with a strained cry. Negan laps it up with a satisfied hum. There's a shift in his eyes when he looks up at you, they're darker. Hungrier. Once you come back down from the high you bring your focus to his cock, straining to get out of his drenched boxers. The article sticking to his skin, giving a gorgeous outline of his manhood. You reach down, palming it. The action making him hiss.
"Want something, darlin'?"
You reach under the waistband to fully grasp his hardened member. Stroking it while whispering, "I want this.. want you."
"Good, because I need to feel that pussy around my dick now." He snatches you off from the edge, turning you around and bending you over it. Tugging down the rest of his boxers, he pulls out his cock. He lines himself up with your entrance and slides right in, the intrusion making both of you groan. The water sloshes around more violently as he pounds into you. "Shit you're so fucking tight. Keep sucking me right in" He pants while thrusting into you. You moan in ecstasy, not able to do much but lay there and take his cock. He leans over you, grabbing a fistful of your hair and tugging your head to the side so he can talk in your ear. "Such a dirty fucking girl you are. I wonder what your old man would think if he found out, hm? That you snuck over here and let me fuck you like the horny little slut that you are."
You let out a loud cry in response, your spongy walls clamping tighter down on him. "I.. I don't know." Was all you manage to mutter out.
A deep chuckle leaves his lips, brushing past your sensitive skin. "Oh you don't? Maybe I should ask him then."
"No!" You nearly scream out loud. "Don't tell him, please!"
His brutal thrusting doesn't falter, slamming into you balls deep every thrust. "I won't if you promise to be a good girl and cum on my cock."
"God yes- yes! I promise to cum all over your cock."
His hand snakes in front of you to rub firmly on your clit. The extra stimulation making your body tremble uncontrollably under him. You are so close to cumming and so is he, but he needs you to let go first. He urges you on, "that's it baby, cum for me."
"Ohh fuck, fuck, fuck!" Your eyes roll back and you finally cum. Cunt squeezing down hard on his cock and milking him of his own orgasm. He pulls out of you just in time to shoot his load all over your back. Releasing a deep groan as he paints your skin with his warm, milky seed.
"Holy shit," Negan laughs breathlessly. The two of you stay there for a few seconds to catch your breaths. He is the first to move, "alright stay right here. I'm gonna get something to clean you up." He exits the spa, going to collect a towel from the towel rack. Stepping back in he uses the article to wipe your pussy and the cum from your back. Making sure you are nice and clear before tossing the soiled cloth on to the floor. He taps you lightly, "all done."
"Thank you," you return coming off the edge and settling down next to him in the relaxing water. Both naked and satisfied.
He wraps his arm around your shoulders, giving you a sweet peck on your lips. "That was fucking incredible."
"Mm, sure was." You sigh contentedly, resting your head on his chest.
His thumb brushes affectionately against your arm. "It looks like I've got you all to myself for the next couple of days."
"What happens after that?"
He gives a half smirk. "We'll figure that out later. But you are mine and I'm not giving you up, that's for damn sure."
You grin widely at his answer.
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motherearthlovesus · 19 days ago
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your boss aaron hotchner uses you like a stressball
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warnings: 18+, wrists bound, mouth gagged w clothing, unprotected v/p penetration, locked door, morally grey power dynamics
summary: 900 words, you & a stressed hotch are staying late at work trying to get through a stack of papers, when suddenly, hotch asks you to lock the door
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it's another late night sorting through bureaucratic paperwork with your boss, aaron hotchner. as you're standing on the other side of his desk arranging papers, you can't keep your eyes from flickering to his large, veiny hands gripping the table in frustration. your eyes wander up his arms, past his biceps, and into his eyes - which you had not realised - were already locked onto yours. you looked away quickly, obviously flustered. "i- i was just-". you began, but he cut you off. "go and lock the door" he said not looking up from the stacks of paper work. you walked over and slowly locked the door, giving yourself a second to regain some composure. behind you, the sound of a squeaking leather chair sent your heart racing. you turned around to see aaron sitting down, his eyes grazing up and down your body.
"you’ve been distracted all night,” aaron said in a low voice, his tone calm but undeniably intense. “is something on your mind?” you swallowed, trying to steady your breath as you took a cautious step toward him. “i was just
” you trailed off, unsure of how to finish the sentence as you his eyes bore through you. he leant back in his chair, crossing his arms. “just what?” he pressed, his voice a controlled mix of authority and quiet challenge. "i didn't mean to stare, i-" but before you can continue, aaron interrupted you with a sharp command. "hands here" he demanded, tapping the desk next to him. you froze for a moment, the command hanging in the air.
your now shaky legs seemed to move on their own, carrying you forward. now standing before him, your turned around to place your hands on the desk. "good," he said quietly. behind you, aaron's chair groaned with his movement and you heard the unmistakable sound of a buckle being undone and a leather belt being slid out. you felt one of his large, rough hands wrap around both of your wrists. "tell me if it's too tight," aaron whispered into your neck, his lips grazing your ear as he pulled the belt tight. "work has been so stressful, and my god-the way you were looking at me...." aaron's hands moved from your bound wrists, up your arms and down the sides of your body ".... i’ve been trying to hold myself back all night," he murmured as he gently pushed you down over his desk. the desire to give in, to let him use you now taking over you. aaron took a step back, admiring the view. “i’ve been meaning to talk to you about these dresses you wear to work,” he says, his voice low and tinged with possessiveness. he tutted at you. “it’s not appropriate. far too tight. it’s distracting honestly" his fingers found the edge of your dress, lifting it slowly over your ass.
his fingers traced the fabric of your underwear, pushing it aside with such a casual precision that it sent a wave of wetness flooding down to your core. his hands gripped your ass firmly, parting your cheeks as he let out a low groan "such a pretty pussy". he stroked your clit with his calloused thumb, the scratching feeling only adding to the pleasure. you noticed your wetness running down your thighs, and so did aaron as he groaned at the pooling between your legs. he could barely get his pants off fast enough, his cock already throbbing with excitement. in one breath, aaron grabbed your hips hard, and slammed his cock into you. you had assumed your boss had an above-average-sized dick, but you didn't this it was going to be this big. your moans mingled with the sound of aaron thighs slapping against your ass, filled the small office. "don't be too loud now, we wouldn’t want any unexpected interruptions." but you must not have heard him over how good he felt as your moans morphed into cries of pleasure. he pressed your bound wrists firmly against your back, his rhythm never faltering as he thrust deeper, each movement pushing into your cervix. without breaking his pace, he tugged off his tie and shoved it into your mouth, muffling your moans. with your face still half pressed against the desk, you looked up at him with your big doe eyes, still moaning into the tie. he looked down into your eyes, watching you bounce up and down. "such a pretty girl" he whispered, brushing strands of hair out of your face. aaron's praise almost sent you over the edge. when your body started to tremble, he noticed immediately. "cum for me, pretty girl" he said as he kept ploughing into you. your moans continued to get louder and louder as aaron fucked you harder and faster. your orgasm triggered his and your moans danced together in harmony, as he slowed down and gently pulled out. he pulled his tie out of your mouth, untied your wrists and pulled your dress back down.
you sat up on the edge of the desk and aaron stood over you, looking down. he wiped some mascara off your face that had gotten smudged. "what now?" you ask sheepishly. "now, you go home and get your rest. i'll pack up." he said turning back to shuffle his papers. "oh, okay" you got up off the desk and made for the door, feeling a bit rejected. aaron stopped you, grabbing your wrist. you winced softly at the friction marks. "i'll call a car for you" aaron said bending down to kiss your cheek. you shut your eyes and stood in the moment before wriggling out of his grasp and turning back to unlock the door. “you’ll stay late tomorrow night, too. we’re not finished.” your heart skips a beat "whatever you need, sir" you replied, stepping into the dimly lit hallway, your legs shaking—for entirely different reasons now.
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hehehehehe đŸ«Ł well this is a bit different - obviously this isn't meant for my main audience but i hope it finds the right people <3 feedback & reblogs are super appreciated !!!!
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lo1k-diamonds · 2 months ago
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Be as it must 💜 Part 6 (end)
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“If you let me claim you, I'll never let you leave.”
PAIRING: Alpha!Jungkook x Omega(f)reader
SUMMARY: It's time to make a decision about the future; Jungkook chose you, but what about you?
WORD COUNT:  6.4k
GENRE: ABO, strangers to lovers, fated lovers, smut
RATING: R (explicit)
WARNINGS: arguing, anger, teasing, brat!reader, explicit unprotected sex, oral (both), he struggles to reach the bedroom 👀, a vase is broken, marking and knotting
A.N. A huge thank you to @moonleeai for the beta read💜 Here we have it-- the conclusion! This was super fun to write, I hope you all enjoy it! 💜
Masterlist | Masterpost | AO3 | Wattpad | < Previous Chapter
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Time was a funny thing — one second, you were standing before seven alphas, the next, you were inside Jungkook’s car again, going home.
You glanced at his chest since you couldn’t look at him. He kept you pressed to his side, enveloped in his arm, his nose firmly to your head. Perhaps he had dozed off, but his embrace was just as firm as before. You wanted to see him, but you let out a small sigh and got more comfy instead.
You had no idea what was happening or what you were doing. There was the fact that the seven of them decided that barring Sunhwa from marrying any of them was not enough to cause social stigma, thus adding plenty of prohibitive deals and sanctions to punish her family’s business and wealth. Then there was the way you didn’t contest that you and Jungkook were made for each other. On top of that, there were all the jokes about him being lucky to have found the one omega probably still out in the world, and it just so happens to be his. Or all the suggestions about contacting his father and elders as a council to inform them of this ban taking effect immediately, which forbade their engagement. You didn’t know where to start unraveling the problem, but you knew it was coming because you were in his arms on your way to his apartment. The apartment you already referred to as home. 
What did Hoseok say? Alphas were very protective. Shit.
You let Jungkook take your hand and lead you home, where a familiar view greeted you. In the car, he had made arrangements for Sunhwa to be fired and barred access everywhere immediately, and he personally stopped to change the apartment’s code.
“It’s the day we first met,” he told you, rolling your luggage inside at his insistence.
“You mean the day I was kidnapped and brought to you in zip ties?”
You frowned, and he shook his head, following you into the living room, “No, the day before. Year month day.”
He was serious as he got rid of his coat to throw it over the couch, and you straightened up as well. You had to take the hold of things while you still had it.
“So, here we are,” you started, clearing your voice. “As you might have guessed, I was on my way here when
 Right, so I meant to let you talk. Before I leave.”
He only looked at you as he rolled up his sleeves, then he scoffed and headed to the dining room, “Want a drink?”
“No, I’d rather do this sober.”
He stopped and glanced at you, “You want to do this now? Aren’t you exhausted?”
“I don’t go to bed angry.” Your eyebrows jumped; you spoke without thinking. “I mean, yes, but I can’t leave if things aren’t sorted out.”
His jaw twitched as he thought your words over, then he turned to you, “Alright. I think you heard everything you needed to tonight.” His lips twitched, and he pressed them before continuing, “I didn’t have a choice in that marriage contract, and I was doing everything I could to have it annulled. I didn’t mean to lead you on, and in fact, that was not what I was doing.”
Your eyebrow quirked, “It wasn’t?” 
“No,” he insisted sternly. “It didn’t mean anything to me.”
“Well, it’s not just about what it means to you, is it?” Your tone hardened as you faced him head-on, “An agreement involves two parts, first of all. Second, it apparently involves even more than two if your whole Family has to establish compensation for cutting it off. Third, it surely does not involve me. I don’t want to be dragged into shit I have nothing to do with.”
“You’re saying this is my fault.”
“That’s not what I said,” you said calmly.
“It’s what you’re implying,” he accused, but you shook your head.
“You didn’t force them to drug me and kidnap me. Don’t put words in my mouth. What I am saying is that you did lead me on.”
“No,” he kept shaking his head, even when faced with your skepticism. “No, because leading on means I meant to deceive you.”
“And you did deceive me,” your voice lost strength, but he kept shaking his head.
“No, I withheld information that wasn’t relevant for the time being because you kept insisting you would fucking leave, and I needed you to—” He stopped, staring at you with equally glistening eyes. Why didn’t it feel like he was saying it right? “I thought that if you felt it, you wouldn’t leave. That you’d be willing to wait for me.”
His eyes watered, but he wanted to say it, even if it sounded like he was weak.
“For me, it was real,” he rushed to add, looking at you. “Every second of us together is real, and it’s all I want. I’m a free man now.”
Your features were still hard, “You still didn’t tell me—”
“Well, I’m sorry!” He threw his hands up, unable to handle the hurt, “You would have never let me near you, but I guess I should have told you!”
“Yes! Yes, you should have!” You shouted back, stepping towards him. “Because if we’re meant to be, do you think that would matter? Do you think a stupid contract that doesn’t represent anyone’s wants would matter?!” He gaped at you, with wide, red eyes locked with yours. “It’s the principle, Jungkook,” you sounded defeated now, regretting shouting. “I mean, we already met in person for the first time when I was taken against my will! I was tied to a fucking chair!” 
Your voice wavered as your eyes watered; was he even listening to you?!
He instantly raised his hands to touch your shoulders, but you continued, “This doesn’t work unless there’s trust and honesty, so what the fuck happens now?”
“I apologize, that’s all I can do,” he said, though his anxiety was beaming out of him in waves. “It should have never happened like this. I should have gone to Busan or— If you just had come that day to Seoul like you planned, or— Fuck, there were so many ways to find you, and it still happened in the worst way.”
You pursed your lips, looking at his chest, staying quiet, and he could swear he was seeing his life crumbling down.
“But most of all, you’re right. I should have told you the truth instantly. Even if you left and decided it wasn’t worth it, that would be your decision, which I’d have to respect.”
You finally looked up at him, and the spark in his heart sizzled and died out with the hurt.
“But I fucked it up. I know. You probably can’t trust me; I get it.” He closed his eyes for a second, swallowed, and faced you again. His fated love with such disappointment in your eyes. “I can only explain my thought process, as selfish as it was, and promise you I had no malice. I never meant to hurt you, but I did, and I’m sorry. It would never happen again, ever. I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” his eyes filled with tears, then he shook his head. “But I understand if you don’t want that.”
Your lips twitched, ready to speak your mind, but a sound behind you made you both frown and turn to look.
Someone was trying to type in the code, and the beep indicated an error. Jungkook’s features twisted in fury when a second beep sounded, and he circled you, storming across the room to open the door.
He was so furious the door almost flew out of its hinges when he opened it. He just knew he’d find Sunhwa on the other side, and although she tried looking small, he was enraged, “How dare you try to barge in here again?!”
His roar was powerful, so it was no wonder she shook before him. You tried calling him but to no avail, even as you stepped closer to try to calm him.
“Fucking speak your business before I destroy your life!”
“Please,” Sunhwa started, such a moving plea you pursed your lips from the entry of the living room. “You have to help me. Please, Jungkook!” He let go of the door, and you thought he might actually do something, but he only turned and stepped away toward you. You could see the anger distorting his features, and knew he hated hearing his name on her mouth. “The Families’ decree just passed not even an hour ago, and it’s lethal,” she continued, daring to take one step past the door threshold. “Already, I’ve become a pariah, and my family’s worth is plummeting. Please, I— It was my brother’s idea, I had nothing to do with it!”
“You really think that will work?!” He roared, turning back with such a glare, Sunhwa started shaking on the spot. “The badmouthing, the stalking, the scenes; you really think anyone would believe you? And even if it’s true, you knew about it! You knew what he had planned, and you pretended you didn't! You’re fucking lucky it was only a few penalties! If it was up to me, your whole family would have been kicked out of the country!”
“Jungkook!”
Her call was disheartening, and you stepped in, getting closer to him. He still shouted back, “Don’t fucking say my name! I never gave you permission to; you and I don’t have that kind of relationship!”
You tried drawing his attention without getting in the way when Sunhwa’s tears ran down her cheeks, “But I— I love you, I’ve been in love with you for years—”
Her sobs along with her distress really bothered you, but they were empty to Jungkook, “What the hell are you saying? You work for me, and we had a contract. How the hell did you—”
You finally stepped in, grabbing his hand so he’d look at you, and shook your head, “There’s no point. No point,” you whispered, looking into his eyes. “Let it go.”
You could see his anger simmer down behind his dark eyes, and it relieved you. He had every right to be angry and to feel betrayed by someone he worked closely with. But there was no gain in hurting her, especially since she was already down. He didn’t have to get even more upset, he could be the bigger person and just let it go.
He finally tore his eyes off you to address her calmly, “There’s nothing else to say. Don’t show your face to me ever again. Leave.”
You looked at her too, and saw the moment it dawned on her who you were. Jungkook wasn’t bottling his anger down, he truly listened to you and decided she wasn’t worth it. You could see the hurt in her eyes, but also the thin line of her lips as she turned around and left. She accepted it, you were pretty certain, that you were an omega, and she had been fighting fate.
The door closed softly behind her, and he turned to you. Perhaps he didn’t expect your hug, but you held him to you strongly. That day was overwhelming to you, but it surely was to him as well. Unfortunately, it wasn’t over yet.
He held onto you so strongly, and when you pulled away to face him, you could read the anguish in his face.
“I’m sorry, but we’re not done yet.”
He nodded sadly, and you reached to brush his cheek.
“Hear me out. I came here to talk to you, didn’t I?” He blinked, his sadness disappearing as he looked at you, confused. “I feel it too, Jungkook. Everything you’ve said, I feel it, too. But I just can’t let it go without talking about it. I want to be with you, but I don’t want a life in which I can’t trust my partner, mate or not. Do you understand?”
“I do,” he nodded frantically, pressing his hands around your waist. “I do, and you can trust me. I will never hide anything from you, you’ll have my full heart.”
Your lips twitched into a small smile, “I want to try
 Though, are you sure? I have a propensity for trouble, I’m definitely a perfectionist at work, and all your whites will have to go,” you scrunched up your nose playfully, tousling his hair for good measure.
He smirked, closing his watering eyes because of the hair falling over his eyes, “I’d love to, I can sacrifice the whites if the beer can stay.”
“I’ll have to taste it first,” you chuckled, then brushed the hair away from his eyes. “Should I stay for a bit then?”
“As long as you want to,” he whispered, with eyes fixed on your lips.
“Good,” you whispered back, then you grinned because all he did was stare. “You can if you want to, you know?” His doe eyes raised to yours, and you chuckled, “So many times, I thought you’d just kiss me on impulse, and now that I say you can, you don’t?”
He laughed, “Is it because you expect it? It didn’t feel right in those moments. When I lost myself, I
 I’m happy I didn’t kiss you then. You were hurt, and it would just make everything harder.”
You nodded with a smile, “My thoughts exactly.”
“Now, I just
” He looked down again, “I want to, but I know what will happen next and
”
“What will happen next?” You pressed teasingly when he didn’t finish, and he pursed his lips.
“I’ll likely give in.”
“Ohhh
” You hummed, “And what does that mean?”
He huffed, looking at you with a raised eyebrow, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Thought you wanted to show me,” you whispered, looking at his lips. “Make me yours.” His tongue wetted his lips. “Give me everything I ever wanted,” you nuzzled him. “Make me feel good—”
He closed the distance between you like a lightning bolt, supporting your jawline. He held nothing back, deepening the kiss as if he wanted to consume you and show you everything you were asking. It didn’t take long for your hands to grab his hair, your tongue licking and fighting his while he squeezed you to him and kept your mouth right there for the taking.
You thought his passionate kiss was the best thing you ever tasted, but you recognized it wasn’t just that. There was electricity sparking between you with every hard breath and daring touch, to the point you acknowledged nothing had ever felt as intense. You were like two clashing celestial bodies heating up to fuse into something better, and the more he touched you and you breathed him in, the more you wanted to merge completely.
His lips traced down to your neck, giving you a moment to suck in breaths brimming with his lustful spicy scent, and you shuddered. You gripped his hair and let out a sigh as you breathed hard near his ear, “Fuck—” His tongue down your neck stole your thoughts and made you sink your nails into his scalp. “Can’t really fight it, can I—”
His protest came in the form of his lips, shutting you up for a moment before he attempted to kiss your neck instead.
“You know, I wanted to go back to Busan,” you said in something that resembled a whine. “Even if just to see if you'd come after me and claim me.”
You gripped his hair to whisper the last words into his ear, and he growled, biting down your neck, making you squeak and start shaking.
But he withdrew, licking the spot, and you chuckled; he could be such a tease, too.
“But I changed my mind,” you continued, seemingly ignoring the way he was suckling, or his hands were exploring your curves, from your shoulders to your ass. It melted you, and you were certain he knew it. “I can’t wait.”
He squeezed you to him, letting you feel his excitement through both your thin slacks, and you chuckled.
“I’m lucky.”
“Lucky?”
“That you can’t think about anything else,” you whispered, and he finally snapped his head back to face you, grabbing your head in place by the hair at the back of your head. “I can only imagine how much fun it would be if you could bring yourself to punish me for teasing you so much
 maybe after you make me yours.”
He was so close to you, you intentionally made your tongue brush his lips as you talked. His grip tightened, “Do you hear what you're saying? Do you realize— How am I supposed to hold back?”
“You’re not,” you grinned, wishing with everything you had he’d take you. “I don’t want you to.”
He finally let his mouth crash to yours again, sweeping you with a new wave of raw need. His mouth was demanding, ravishing, melting you in every instance until you were nothing but a puddle wanting to be his.
To the point that when he pulled back again, you whimpered, “Take me. Come on,” your grip on his hair kept him in place. “Take me. I want you, please.”
His lips almost touched yours, but he screwed his eyes shut for a moment before facing you again, “If you let me claim you, I'll never let you leave.”
It sounded like a desperate confession, yet you just whispered, “No?”
“No, I won't let you leave my bed.”
You smirked, “That’s fine, I can work from bed.”
“No work,” he pressed himself to you, pushing you into the entryway wall, and the shivers up and down your spine made you smile again.
“Then no big American consortium agreement.”
“I don't care,” his lips latched to your jawline, and nothing could stop your euphoric glee.
You laughed, “How will you even keep me in bed? Let me guess,” you chuckled. “Does it involve some zip ties?”
He pulled back with eyebrows knitted with befuddlement, “You— You’re crazy!”
You chuckled and used your foot on the wall to gain leverage, pushing yourself against him so that after a twist, it was you pushing him against the wall.
“I am crazy,” you nuzzled him, a second away from jumping into this. “Are you sure you want this?”
His lips fell on yours, moving against yours desperately before you withdrew for an answer, “I wanted your crazy from the moment I first saw you in that video call.” His gaze was red and glinted, fully inebriated on you, “I could have wiped the floor of my drool.”
You couldn’t hold back a laugh, “Well, aren’t you in luck.”
You would have liked to tease him more, but his patience was wearing thin. His hand pressed the back of your nape, forcing you to fall into him as he switched places and pushed you to the wall again, and you sighed. You kissed him just as hard as he did, flush to his chest while you pulled his shirt up to try to finally touch him, but he beat you to it, and you had to close your eyes and bite your lip.
Your blouse cleavage offered no resistance when he decided to rip it so his mouth could trail down between your breasts. It covered you with goosebumps, and you weren’t certain if it was the sound, the force, or his plum lips with a curious tongue along with it, but it didn’t matter. You grabbed his hair, trying to breathlessly keep up with the way his tongue traced intricate patterns on your breast, just above the edge of your bra cup neckline as his hands squeezed your ass to him, so you’d have no way to outrun every shudder.
“What are you—”
You were breathless when he started fumbling with your bra, and squealed when he pulled it so hard the apex hooks broke off. He bit on your soft flesh, nuzzling his way closer until he freed one hand to pull the torn bra away, letting it fall to the floor. You didn’t have a mind to complain because in a second he was pressing his face between your breasts and squeezing them to his cheeks. You bit your lip, unwilling to admit how hot it was that your alpha wanted to breathe you in, but then he started licking and you lost sight of reality.
His thumbs pressed, squeezed, and pinched both your nipples and your supple flesh as his tongue and teeth ravished from one side to the other in a seemingly endless and frantic dance. Whenever you thought he’d give you a breather, he pinched harder, and when you thought he’d move and kiss you again, he jumped to the other nipple, taking you by surprise. You couldn’t tell up from down, your hazy mind overwhelmed and barely getting enough oxygen, but then he made it worse.
He kept your breasts squeezed tightly in his hands while kissing down your stomach, nipping the flesh softly until he reached your slacks. You were pinned in place, holding his hands to your chest while he rubbed his nose down on the fabric over your mound, but then he took a deep breath.
You groaned in desperation, melting straight onto your panties, close to his sensitive nose and mouth. His response was a deep growl and a stronger press of his mouth to your core, which drove you wild. You squirmed and writhed, unable to stop how much you wanted to feel him, even with his hands holding your chest firmly right above your racing heart.
But in a second, they were gone, stripped from under your hands, and you whimpered. You looked down with a pout, about to complain, but it all happened too fast.
He pulled the slacks and underwear down your legs, roughly grabbing your shoes and throwing them aside, and before you could think, he pressed his face the same as before, only this time there was no barrier to protect you.
You squealed and squirmed again, instantly needing to grab onto something as your jaw fell open. Your hand landed on his hair, and your head fell back to the wall, completely lost and overwhelmed. His mouth was in a fury, latched to your folds as he rubbed his face to your core, only stopping to lick every drop of slick you released. You couldn’t help it; everything he did, from the way he breathed to the way he grabbed you, absolutely liquified you until you were sure there was no stopping it.
Worse, his head pushing up pressed on your core hard, making your feet lose traction. You couldn’t stop moaning; even opening your eyes involved too much thinking, but your free hand darted to the side for support.
It slammed into a vase on the foyer table. The shatter on the floor didn’t phase either of you; if anything, his hands gripped your hips rougher, and you squeaked when he sucked your clit a bit harder.
He seemed to be exactly where he wanted to be because as you tried your best to stay afloat, breathing but not drifting away, he kept drinking, suckling, and groaning into your cunt. And in your haze, you forced your eyes open and pouted. It wasn’t like you wanted him to stop, but you wanted to learn all about him, too.
“Jungkook,” you called under your breath, trying your best to stop moaning, but you closed your eyes. Fuck, he made it hard. “Jungkook, stop.”
He instantly pulled away, looking up at you with dark, thundering eyes, but you smirked. His mouth and chin were red and shiny; he was a whole damn view.
“I need to lay down,” you breathed, reaching your hands to him, and he instantly got up and grabbed them, kissed them, and then you.
It was just a peck; it made you pout, but his pulling you in the direction of the couch kept you quiet.
He motioned for you to sit down and went to kneel in front of you, but you pulled on his hand to stop him and said, "Lay down."
“I thought you said—”
“Lay down,” you simply repeated, pulling the leftovers of your blouse from your shoulders.
It seemed to hit him then that you were fully naked in front of him, and he probably needed to sit down, judging by the way he eyed you from head to toe. It put a mischievous smile on your face, only you didn’t forget that he was fully clothed, and that simply wasn’t fair.
You kneeled next to him and reached for the first button on his shirt, starting what you guessed was a gruesome process, if only judging by the way he groaned.
“Let me just—”
“No,” you stopped him from pulling the shirt over his head and kept going. 
You could tell how the imposed reprieve drove him crazy. His fingers were impatiently touching your sides while his eyes kept jumping between your heaving chest, your slicked core, and your playful smile.
“I don’t need to be naked to eat you out,” he finally said, and you chuckled. That was how long it took for him to gather a coherent thought.
“That’s true, but it’s not fair, is it?”
Your tone was sweet as you leaned to pull the shirt over his shoulders, and he swallowed, overwhelmed. “I guess not. But you told me to lay down.”
He was thinking out loud while you hummed, moving onto his slacks.
“I don’t want to lay down,” he argued with knitted eyebrows, and you chuckled as you pulled his boxers and pants down, pulling off his shoes so he’d be naked, same as you. “Let me keep going.”
You sat back on the couch with your heart in your throat, momentarily so hot and speechless your tongue became slack. Jungkook was absolutely stunning, the embodiment of a god from head to toe. You knew his shoulders were wide and safe, his arms powerful, and his hands reliable, but now his firm chest and chiseled abs gave a new definition to the word hot. Your mate was just as handsome as he was mouthwatering, and his only sin was not entering your life sooner.
“What a dream
” You spoke so quietly you doubted he heard you. You were entranced, so perhaps your actions showed better than your words.
You got on his lap, finally dropping your eyes to the appetizing shaft aiming right at you. Your hand wrapped around him firmly before you could even think; after all, there was nothing like touching to truly know, and oh boy. He groaned and let his head drop, and it made your guts burn with want. Your hand had a will of its own as you jerked him, playing with the intensity of your grip. He eyed you when it became too soft, and the absolutely fucked out look on his face made you want him a thousand times more, and you squeezed harder.
He groaned again, knitting his eyebrows in such a way you knew you had him.
But you stopped and pushed him by the shoulders to get him to lay back, making him open his eyes and look at you with a question in his eyes.
“You told me to let you,” you told him, unaware of the way your glistening eyes and dark long hair framed you like a goddess in his eyes.
So he mumbled something and fell back, unable to displease you in any way. Fortunately, you had his interest in mind because you shifted on top of him with your hands near his hips and your knees on each side of his head, and he sighed. The view of your wet cunt was an oasis, so when you dropped to his mouth, he latched on.
You arched your back instantly, barely keeping yourself in check. Fuck, was the way he licked you maddening, but you had other priorities. You kept your ass up but lowered your chest to his stomach, finally drawing near to your prize. Your tongue peeked instantly between your lips, but you held back, taking the view of his excitement for the treat it was. Until he groaned between your legs, a translucid drop of precome escaping his slit, and you couldn’t hold back anymore.
You lounged forward to take his cock into your mouth, and his desperate groan ran a shudder down your spine. You didn’t know if it was because you had moved away from his mouth or because of the way you took him, but the latter was most likely. 
Because his hands gripped your ass to pull you back on him, but not before he grunted a Fuck— like he’d bust his nut right then and there.
It made you even more hungry, and his taste didn’t help. It matched his strong, perfect self to a T; it razed your mind and changed your brain chemistry. You knew he’d claim you very soon, but even if he didn’t, nothing would ever taste the same, and you wanted it.
Your thoughts were clouded as you took him more and more, letting the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat like it was nothing. The hunger was dizzying, the flavors invading your mouth addictive, and you wanted more and more and—
Your world was overturned so quickly it became a blur. Suddenly, you were pushed against the back of the couch and forced to let go of the candy in your mouth, only to fall on your back between the cushions and have your legs spread as a heavy body fell between them.
“What the hell are you doing?”
He was nearly growling near your face, pinning your hands to each side of your head, and you grinned, “What?”
“What?” He was in disbelief at the way you kept smiling so gleefully, “You want me to burst too soon?”
You let your head fall back to giggle euphorically, but then you bit your lip and tried sobering up, “We have the whole night.”
“No, not to claim you, I don’t,” his reply was instant. “No way I’m waiting, not even one night.”
Your lip was still seductively between your teeth, “You could, though
 We could have fun in other ways
 You could just make me feel good while you recover.”
Your smile was almost endearing; a proposition covered in honey, but he wouldn’t fall for it. He raised his hips and brought them close so that his cock aligned with your slit and slid, rubbing your clit.
You moaned with a flutter of your eyelashes, blushing and trembling so sweetly just for him, and he smiled, “Don't you have everything figured out? Aren't you a fucking tease?”
“What do you mea—”
Your laugh died in your throat when he pushed in, invading your warmth, unable to control the way he stretched you to accommodate his size. His groan was deep and vanished as he raised his head, showing you the veins on his neck, and you whimpered even harder. Your jaw slacked as he pushed to tuck himself in fully, and your whole body burned with the fit.
You had to suck for breaths, feeling so hot that sweat was inevitable. You closed your legs behind him, pushing him into you, and he groaned, finally looking down at you like you were his whole world.
He meant to come closer to you, but you placed your hands on his shoulders to stop him, glancing down between your bodies as your legs guided his hips. It was mind-blowing, almost unbelievable, but it was right there — his thick, hard cock disappearing inside you, pushing moans out of you, coming out covered in your slick just to push into you again. It was so delicious you melted into the couch, wrapping your hands around his neck to bring him to your lips. He was incredible, unbelievable, beyond your wildest dreams, and only getting better as he quickened his thrusts.
They weren’t remotely fast, but the sensory overload was almost a reality. You weren’t just burning for him; you were combusting for you both — establishing a bond that couldn’t be forged with anyone else. Your logical mind would have stopped to analyze what you were doing, weighing the pros and cons, but there was no rationale behind how you felt about him. Only raw instinct telling you and making you sure with every fiber of your being that it was right. You belonged in his arms, in that moment with him, and you were ready.
But his hips started slowing down, and your brow furrowed, confused but also hurt. You were ready, and he was stopping — were you in dissonance?
But a kiss on your lips, along with a sigh, made you realize that was not what was going on. He nuzzled you, with soft eyes on yours as he let your foreheads touch, and you knew it wasn’t that. He was ready, too.
“Hold on,” he rasped, placing his hands between your ass cheeks and the couch, and you wrapped your arms around his neck firmly.
He pulled you up with a grunt, holding you to him as he stood, still inside you while your legs closed around him. You clenched in your effort, making him grunt a second time, which put a smile on your lips as you bit his earlobe.
Despite your torture, he was resilient; he still turned and left the room, going up the stairs. It was hard, though, and he was weak. Your touches, kisses, nibbling his earlobe, and clenching around his cock were dizzying. He thought he’d make it to the first floor, but he succumbed over the last few steps. Your ass landed on the last step softly while he stumbled to his knees, and it was uncontrollable.
Your legs pulled him to you while your arms held him; your eyes and expression showed how much you yearned for him, which were his kryptonite. He couldn’t help but eagerly get on his knees and bury himself inside you again, letting your heat clench around him like a vice.
It was maddening, and the way your scent called to him was only the cherry on top of an otherworldly desert. Nothing had ever felt like you did; his nerves were on fire with every thrust, only to have him obsessing over sinking into you again and again.
You had fallen down the same spiral because you kept moaning and scratching his shoulders to keep him close, helping by pushing against his ass so he’d fuck you deep. He knew you’d drive him crazy, but fuck. He was about to claim you on top of the stairs.
“Wait wait wait,” he mumbled, hoping you’d help him fight himself. 
You did, stopping the sway of your legs and kissing the sweaty side of his face endearingly to let him breathe. He did breathe, but his heart was melting — you were perfect and just for him. He couldn’t wait any longer.
With one final effort, he held you back up and carried you to his bed. He was able to lay you down gently, but that was the last of his ability. His lips pressed to yours, and in seconds, his hunger flared, devastatingly, completely overwhelming you.
Your chin had permanently dropped as he grunted to your cheek in tune with your moans. Everything shook: the bed, your limbs, your soul. The heat pooling between your legs as he fucked you wild, without an ounce of control, helped him slide even better and bottom out every time. The way he touched every sweet spot, flooding every sense with his groans, his scent and salty taste brought you pleasurable dimensions you didn’t even know existed. All you knew was that it was raw and crazy and everything you ever wanted.
He pulled away enough to face you, “Are you sure?”
You almost wanted to cry; how could he even think right now?
But in your heart, that was the last piece of the puzzle. You smiled with tears in your eyes, “Yes.”
You had barely noticed his pounding slowing, but you surely noticed when the rhythm became maddening again. Your moans pitched unbelievably as you sank your nails into his shoulders, begging him with your eyes. You needed him to come with you.
He waited a second longer, then crashed to your neck, and reality spun. The pressure inside your walls from his knot would have made you squeal, but it was his bite that made you scream. And as if that wasn’t overwhelming enough, your orgasms snapped and mixed, allowing you to squeeze him between your walls as the pleasure devastated you, making sure to milk every drop of his climax.
His cock kept twitching inside you, even after he had stopped grunting into your neck, and it made you sensitive. Still, you loved his weight on top of you and his licks over your mark. You brushed your fingers over his powerful arms and shoulders, sighing with contentment as he took care of you. Inside you, as your heart calmed down, something strong and unbreakable embraced it protectively. You wrapped your arms around him and closed your eyes, holding back the tears — you were part of each other now. Fated to meet, fated to love; you were connected now.
“Did I hurt you?”
His voice was a warm whisper to your ear, and you shook your head, “No.”
He held you for as long as you kept your arms firm around him. Then, he pulled back to face you, your red cheeks, wild long hair, and glistening eyes. He sighed, “Is this how it will always be?”
You hummed and blinked up at him lazily.
“Are you always going to be such a fucking tease?”
Your eyebrows jumped in surprise, but then you started laughing. Finally, you bit your lip to hide a smirk, “I hope so.”
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horrorsboyfrie · 6 months ago
Text
Loser!Zandik being crushed on by Popular!Reader
(masc terms on reader+ it's the typical corny social butterfly × weirdo shit, queer edition, honestly + Zandik displays traits of autism + a little murderous♡)
Zandik, as per usual, was spending the night's time in the library. It was quiet, for the most part. While a lot of his fellow peers were focused on finding answers for their own satisfaction, even those who viewed their values and research to be above everyone else's had someone to keep them company; for that reason, they often chose to borrow the necessary books and study in their respective dorms, or the dorms of their friends. Some did indeed prefer the setup of the library's sections and desks, but even so, the peaceful atmosphere was not interrupted by them.
Zandik sat on a table at the very ends of the room. He had a pile of books to his right; some half opened, and others neatly stack on top of each other. He had his notebook and pens nearby, taking notes of anything he deemed crucial knowledge for his personal projects.
Not long had he been entangled in his theories when a specific group of students decided to make an appearance. They could be heard from miles away— and it just so happened that they chose to sit on a table to his right. Malicious intent, no doubt. These people tended to act as if Zandik was some foreign species to be studied; as if he was a sort of a subject that needed constant supervision.
Of any day to endure the constant speculations and disgusted or concerned expressions towards him, today was not the right one. Nothing too horrific had happened to him, not something that would matter to an average person, at least. It's just that he slept wrong, causing him to wake up with slight neck pain, which played a role in worsening his already short temper, which in turn made his sensory issues towards his clothes, especially his socks, far more insufferable than they had to be. He was one unexpected move away from having a meltdown.
Yet again, he managed to ignore the obnoxiously loud 《whispers》 that sprouted out of those filthy rat-filled mouths of theirs, as Zandik's already-overwhelmed mind decided to call them.
Unfortunately for him, the multiple different voices started chanting even more nonsense as you walked towards the table— he could see that you were dreading it. Was everyone so damn bothered by his existence? You were known to be such a sweetheart— contrast to majority of boys there— by those who've interacted with you, but to be fair, none had a reputation quite like Zandik's, so it's no wonder you resented him, as everyone else did.
"Why'd we have to sit here?" he heard you emphasize. He looked your way; he could see the grins on the faces of your friends, the way they seemed to be picking on someone, hushed whispers, mentioning his name time after time, as if he wasn't barely three chairs away. Gods, his patience was running thin.
"Can we just switch seats?" He listened as you practically begged your friend, who was sitting on the complete opposite end of the table. As much as he may have claimed (to himself, seeing as he had none to actually confide in) not be a man driven by emotion, his worse sensory days were tempt to be a catastrophe in every way possible. He left soon after he heard those mumbles; he was too sensitive for his own good, even if he dismissed that fragile soul of his with walls of anger and apathy.
Your friends seemed to notice before you, the fact that he was no longer in the room. All you got was endless teasing about how you've missed your chance or about the fact that you probably 《intimidated》 him. Bullshit, no? You sighed as the group split up again, each going ahead to do their own thing. The only true reason they decided to meet up here was to force you into talking to him. That did not quite work out, it seems.
You hurried to leave as well, when you noticed a small pen on the ground. That must be his; you always see him writing with that specific shade of blue. It's not like nobody else in the whole Akademiya owned the same one, but he was sitting on the table you found it under. You decided to hold on to it. Perhaps it would be an opportunity to finally have a conversation with the guy!
On your way back to the dorms, you noticed him nearing his own room. Maybe now's the time to return him his belongings— especially considering how he seemed to be searching his pockets. His face was indifferent when he realized he didn't have the pen on him, but his hands were trermbling; a hint of anxiety perhaps? One could only speculate. You decided to leave him on his own. He probably wasn't up for company or conversation anyway.
The following few days weren't quite like you expected. Usually, you'd manage to get at least a glance your way by him; laughing at stupid jokes, bumping into people or objects that you could have easily avoided, accidentally saying things a bit too loud. Nothing worked this time. It's as if he purposefully was avoiding you; a fact that got confirmed after you tried walking towards him. He saw you—he made sure you saw his look, he held it for a couple of seconds— and then he walked away. Fuck, there's no way this guy wants anything to do with you.
Weeks later, you had grown to forget ever owning that pen of his; actually, you started using it for yourself. If you can't give it back, then why not use it for yourself?
Zandik, despite trying his hardest to keep his stares away from you and your friends (and pretty much everyone else in that damned building), couldn't help but notice that his long-gone favorite pen is under your possession.
After the very last class of the day, he decided to give you a visit; your fate had been decided by him already. He's done what he's done in the Eleazar hospital and got away with it. It wouldn't be hard to add another body into the endless pile of disappearances; he knew how to keep suspicion off his shoulders.
Perhaps it was a bit too far. He was letting his rage get the better of him; but gods, he really hadn't felt at ease writing with anything else. "His death would make no logical sense to my goals," he sighed as he reminded himself. "What sort of researcher puts his emotions above his values?" He groaned— frustrated both at himself for considering such a solution to his problems, and at the situation itself.
Times like these, he'd go to his special place to sit and think; it was a big tree, near a lake. Children would often talk about their encounters with the Aranara there. At first, he only ever visited that place so he could find one creature and take it for himself, but he grew quite comfortable being there.
He grabbed the opportunity by its hand once he spotted you all alone; sitting with your back against that very same tree that he favored. As if you had a seventh sense, you turned around to see him. He wasn't quite prepared to be greeted with a smile. It caught him off guard; why were you, of all people, showing any form of sympathy for him?
"I was hoping you'd be here" you said, handing him the pen that he has been desperately trying to get a hold of again.
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wxxpingangxls · 9 months ago
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Girl Next Door
+synopsis; a new, single and smoking hot neighbour moves in next door and you offer to babysit his son while he’s busy at work
money isn’t the only payment
+content/warnings; black reader but no explicit description, typical suburban wives, reader and nanami are around the same age (early 30s), both single parents, reader has a daughter, set in the early 2000s, messy sex, desperate!nanami (he hasn't had good pussy in a while :((((( ), sloppy pussy eating, fingering, squirting
+pairings; black!milf fem!reader x dilf!nanami
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The moving van obstructed the view of the new home owners moving in a few houses down from your home. The sounds of young children giggling and conspiring among themselves resounded around the neighbourhood as you and the other wives gossiped about the new neighbour.
“So, what did you say after she commented on the dress you wore?” one of the woman asked you as you peered up from your pink mug. “Ugh don’t even get me started on her. She took one look at me and assumed I was stone cold broke! Can you imagine that?” you exclaimed, raising both hands up in disbelief.
“Oh my God! Major hunk alert!” you snapped your head towards the direction in which of the girls were pointing at. The moving van had moved and in your line of vision was a tall man in a blue shirt and suspenders. His blonde hair was smartly slicked back and his designer watch blinged in the daylight.
“Woah
” you gasped, your mouth wide open and salivating. You could see his pecs and arms bulging through the material. "I think it's only fair that we give our new neighbour a warm welcome..." you smile, whilst reaching towards the basket of freshly home-baked sweet treats and pastries.
You swore you only came over to offer to take his son to the park to accompany your daughter while he unpacked at his new home. Yet here you were, on the cleared out dining table, while the children lay asleep in one of the separate rooms. Your halter neck dress was bunched up around your waist and your pink Dior strappy heeled sandals were long disguarded somewhere around the home. Your hot cunt was leaking as you silently waited for him to get back to work. Your hands were back in his hair, griping tightly as his tongue flicked up and down your heated cunt.
“Mphmmm, just like that Kento
” the moans of his name further egging him on to make you cum again. It’s been way too long since you come to an orgasm this good. With the divorce proceedings finally settled and custody matters dealt with, you haven’t had time to do anything. It also didn’t help that you couldn’t find a baby sitter to take care of your baby girl whilst working.
But having this mouth watering, leg opening hunk of a man between your legs, all your problems seemed minor and oh so trivial. His mouth suckling on your small bud, making your legs bounce up in ecstasy. Kento groaned as he shook his head side to side, smearing your filthy secretions all over his face and your thighs. You whined out loud, sensitivity and overstimulation getting to you, while this man just enamoured himself in your sweet filth. Hunger and carnal desire is all that fuelled him on.
Kento’s calloused hands gripped onto your thighs, his biceps flexing every time he put extra weight on your legs to stop you from shaking. Your back arched as he slowly slipped a finger into the slick hole. “Oh, fuck, s’good
” his finger left your pulsing cunt as he started rubbing your clit side to side.
“Yeah, you like that don’t you pretty girl,” his voice resounded around your mushy mind. You nodded, too far gone to acknowledge what exactly he was saying. “Come on, give it to me baby,” he whined out loud, bucking his hips into the air for some sort of relief. Drool seeped as your cunt squeezed around nothing, his three fingers rubbing hard against your soft clit.
His lips found his way to your thighs, sucking marks onto them as your breathing hitched.
“Have you squirted before?” he asks stopping momentarily, whilst sitting up to make eye contact with you. “What?” you reply completely drained from his teasing.
“Come here,” his large hands wrap themselves around your thigh and brings closer to himself to distract you from the fact that he was sliding two fingers into your cunt.
Your walls immediately tighten as his fingers curl up, finding your gooey spot. “Oh! Good
S’good!”
“I need for you to relax for me sweetheart, okay?” he looked down at your bubbling eyes as you nodded feverishly. “There’s a good girl,”
His large free hand runs down to your stomach as the other fingers roll themselves further into your cunt. Your moans further increase in pitch. His hand finally places itself on your lower stomach before pressing, hard.
Kento watches in amusement as he eyes your face contorting into that of pleasure. “Relax sweets,” he quickly mutters as he notices your feeble attempts to try and squirm away.
“Wait
Wait!”
Your cunt squelches and squeezes around his fingers as you start gushing against his abdomen. “Yeah
just like that!” he whispers softly “There it is
Fuck!”
Your legs are shaking and your eyes tearing up as you try and catch your breath while he helps you ride out your high.
You said your goodbyes and gave your blessing to the new neighbour next door and his small son. Your own child lay peacefully asleep in your arms, her small snores reverberating in your ears. Kento Nanami shut the front door, letting out a deep sigh.
He silently sat and hoped that the girl next door hadn’t seen the huge cum stain in his brand new tailored work trousers. After all, all he did was eat out your sweet cunt. But give it time, soon enough, he’ll come running for more than just the taste of your sweet cunt.
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