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#Honey was supposed to be the last lol
curlysimmies · 1 year
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Late night, 3rd trimester cravings.
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kamaluhkhan · 4 months
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THE GRUDGE (or: the 7 things luke castellan hated about you)
read part two GET HIM BACK! (or: the 7 reasons you want revenge on luke castellan)
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pairing: luke castellan x child of nemesis!reader (gender not specified)
word count: 8.5k
summary: luke hated your guts. he really did. he just hoped that no one could tell how, even after all this, you're still everything to him.
warnings/disclaimer: luke's POV. spoilers for the lightning thief and season 1 of pjo. some heated make-out sessions but no actual smut - MDNI / 18+. mentions of blood + death + alcohol. luke is 19 during tlt but i wrote this with him + reader being 21 by the end of this (this is important for the next part lol). anyways, luke + reader share clothes and lots of intense emotions they maybe possibly don't process in the best way. lots of ANGST - it's a greek tragedy fr!
author's note: welcome to my new hyperfixation! this fic is LONG but i hope she's worth it ♡
♪: the grudge by olivia rodrigo
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(i. you have a sharp tongue)
fourteen year old luke was overwhelmed when he first stepped into the hermes cabin. it was loud and overcrowded and no one really seemed to care that they had a new cabinmate. the head counselor showed luke to an empty bed at the back, told him to get settled in, and left without another word. luke dropped his backpack before collapsing on the mattress. it was so thin that he could feel the springs dig into his back.
"you'll get used to it."
luke sat up to see you climbing through the window. 
you had a band-aid stuck on your chin, chipped nail polish the color of blackberries, and leather combat boots that looked way too heavy to be wearing in the heat of summer. 
“the shitty mattress?”
“i meant the whole chaos of cabin 11, and the way things work around here in general. if you can get used to the shitty mattress, all power to you.” 
your tone was friendly enough, playful even. you smiled at him so comfortably it made luke nauseous. 
“good to know.” he tried to smile back at you, but his heart wasn’t in it. “i’m luke, by the way.”
“yeah, i know. i’m —”
“y/n!”
you seemed entirely unfazed as the blond who called your name stormed over to you. you rolled your eyes, something only luke could notice, before turning to her.
“someone stole my candy.”
“i’m very sorry to hear that, maddy. gotta be careful around here.” your voice dripped like poisoned honey, deceptively innocent and sweet.
maddy was not having it. she huffed at you. “it was you, wasn’t it?”
“that depends. did you cheat at poker last night? again?” 
some of the chatter throughout the cabin paused, heads turning to listen in. 
“what? n-no!” 
“then you have your answer, maddy.” you exaggerated a sigh, as though you had already won the fight and were annoyed that she came back for more. “now, if you’ll excuse me, i have a new camper to show around.”
chiron had already given them a tour, but luke didn’t protest when you grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the window with you. your hand was warm in his as you dragged him along to the corner of the cabin where a poorly made ladder waited for you. 
“come on.” you started climbing, and only stopped to look down when you realized luke wasn’t following you. “best view of camp. trust me.”
a shiver passed through luke. trust didn’t come easy to him. he also didn’t particularly want to return to a stuffy cabin where all he would do was count reasons he did not want to be there.
 so, luke followed you. he sat down next to you on the roof and looked out at the sun shining on his new home, but he couldn't help but be slightly bitter. the gods had gotten all of you into this life of endless danger and battles and monsters, and this was all they had to offer in return: a summer camp. 
it just didn't seem fair. 
there was something else he noticed then. what was it that chiron had said? camp half-blood was supposed to be a safe haven for all demigods. 
“i don’t get it. there are only twelve cabins, but aren’t there, like, a million other gods?”
you straightened your posture then, and turned to luke with a newfound interest. 
“camp half-blood only has cabins representing the twelve olympians. apparently, they’re the only ones important enough to have children worth recognizing, and they can’t even do that half the time,” you explained, impertinence laced throughout your words. it seemed like something you could never quite get off your chest. 
every  demigod knew that the gods didn’t appreciate sarcasm. they  didn’t particularly like being called out on their bullshit, either.
you didn’t seem to care; you even rolled your eyes up at the sky, as if challenging zeus himself. 
“anyways, that’s why the hermes cabin is so crowded. it takes in campers who are unclaimed or whose parent doesn’t have a cabin at camp. like me.”
“so, who’s your godly parent?”
you fiddled with the leather cord on your neck. it held a few clay beads like the other campers, but there was one silver charm he noticed only you wore — scales, by the looks of it. you clutched onto it.
luke realized that, despite your own advice, maybe you resented having to get used to the way things worked around here, and having to hide your resentment. maybe that was worse than having to sleep on an uncomfortable bed for the rest of your life.
"nemesis. goddess of revenge."
"that's....hardcore."
you scoffed and moved on to twisting the silver ring on your index finger. "a lot of people take it that way, and i think it scares them a bit.”
“so that’s why you’re extra nice to new campers, huh?” 
“no, i was just in a good mood today.” you smirked.
“guess i was just lucky, then.”
luke couldn’t help but smile at your laugh — sharp, biting. you nudged your boot against his sneaker, which shifted you closer to him, shoulders practically touching. 
“what people don’t understand is that it's more about balance, you know? you do good things, and good things happen to you. at least, they should. you do bad things and….” you pulled out an outrageously big bag of candy, dropped it between you and luke, and winked at him. “you face the consequences.” 
“that makes sense.” luke leaned over to grab a handful of gummy bears. “like karma.”
“yeah. exactly.” 
you bit the head off a red bear, both of you chewing in silence before you added:
“by the way, i’m sorry about your friend.” you swallowed and caught luke’s gaze. 
chiron warned him that word would travel fast around camp about what happened to thalia, and luke had prepared himself for anything — anything but your reaction. there was no pity in your eyes; instead, there was a hint of rage, as though thalia had been your friend, too. 
“she deserved more.” 
luke’s eyes caught the glint of a knife strapped to your belt. he took another handful of the candy you stole, and he thought about the fire and fearlessness behind your words, and, despite everything, it felt right to be with you then and there. 
“yeah,” he finally whispered back. “she did.”
we all do. 
neither of you said those words, but the suggestion was there, and it felt like a promise. 
(ii. you hold on to every stupid, little detail)
“slow down, tiger.” 
your voice echoed throughout the arena, and if luke had been fighting a real opponent, it might have gotten him killed. instead, he just stopped mid-swing, sparing another straw dummy from losing its arm. 
“left hand,” you noted as you walked past him towards a bench. “you, my friend, are in need of a break.”
luke loosened the grip on his sword. the only time luke fought with his non-dominant hand was when he had overworked the other. he must have switched an hour ago, but judging by how heavy his arm felt, it could have very well been two.  
his curls were stuck to his forehead with sweat, his shirt soaked through. he could feel a dull pain behind his eyes, and luke was worried that if he stopped to catch his breath, he would pass out. or, even worse, have to face the reality of the shitty news he’d gotten early that day. 
“come sit with me,” you urged. “you’re exhausted, tiger.” 
luke bristled at your nickname for him. 
sure, luke loved that there was something only you called him, a secret kept between you in plain sight, but it was also a reminder that it was harder to hide behind the hero act when you were around.
everyone else at camp figured the nickname was a playful attempt at calling him strong and charismatic. the truth was that luke once told you that his favorite cereal as a kid was frosted flakes and that he would dream of playing sports as well as tony the tiger. for better or for worse, like most things, you wouldn’t let it go. 
case in point: if it was anybody other than you trying to get him to take a break, luke could have just brushed them off with a charming smile and continued swordfighting until his arms fell off, but in the two years since meeting you, luke had never met anyone as stubborn and convincing. like him, it seemed you were willing to fight and shed blood to get your way. luke was never really in the mood to make you bleed, even when feeling like he could burn the entire world down, so he usually gave in to your demands.  
as soon as he sat down next to you, you handed him an orange flavored energy drink — his favorite. anything other than water was hard to come by at camp without the enchanted goblets in the dining pavilion, or the right connection in the hermes cabin. he ran out of his stash the other day, but you must have noticed and gotten one of the stoll brothers to smuggle more in. 
“thanks,” luke said, ignoring the jolt of electricity that passed through him when your fingers brushed together briefly. 
 the two of you looked out at the sword arena, and all the straw dummies that luke had destroyed. you wait for him to take three big gulps of his drink before speaking again. 
“i guess chiron and your dad decided you weren’t ready for a quest.”
luke exhaled sharply. “how did you —”
“the only time you’d skip out on capture the flag is if something really shitty happened.” you looked down at luke’s clenched fists, and that seemed to be all the confirmation you needed. “you promised annabeth you'd be there, and it's not like you to let her down."
fuck. he had completely forgotten that tonight was annabeth's first time as team captain. this entire week, she had been prepping a winning strategy. it wasn’t like annabeth needed him to win, but luke was her big brother, and he should have been there. you were right — he had let her down. 
the realization made luke’s day go from bad to worse. 
"i told her you were helping a new camper with an emergency. she didn't believe it, but she adjusted her strategy and we still won.”
“well, thank the gods everything worked in the end,” luke grumbled. 
“don’t thank the gods,” you quipped. “thank annabeth chase for her brilliant mind, and me for covering for your sorry ass.”
when luke didn’t indulge in your usual playful banter, you moved closer to him and brushed some curls away from his eyes. your skin warmed his forehead, and the small gesture made him feel better than he had all day.
“look, i’m not going to give you some bullshit inspirational speech about how the gods don’t get to define what a hero is, or how you don’t need a quest to prove that you’re worthy of being one. we’ve each been through that before, and i have a feeling this won’t be our last time, either.”
“then why are you here?” the question came out harsher than luke had intended it to.
“because she’s trying her best to hide it, but annabeth is really hurt that you didn’t show up for the game. i figured the least you could do is suck it up, come to the campfire, and make her those signature luke castellan s’mores. you could probably use one, too, since you haven’t eaten anything since breakfast.” 
you were right, again. luke was exhausted, he was furious, but most of all, he was starving.  
later that night, luke sat next to annabeth and vowed to make her as many s’mores as she wanted. you’d gone to sit with the hephaestus kids, trying to convince beckendorf and nyssa to join your cabin’s post-campfire party at the beach, even though they had to work in the forges early the next morning. 
when chiron made his weekly speech, congratulating the winners of capture the flag and thanking the gods for keeping everyone safe, you and luke caught each other’s gaze from across the fire. you rolled your eyes and luke bit back a smile as you turned back to beckendorf. he noticed your knees were practically touching. did you sit that close to everyone? 
luke was looking at you for so long that the marshmallow he was roasting fell into the fire, despite annabeth’s warnings. she handed him another one. 
"you should tell her how you feel," annabeth said. "stop being a coward." 
whether it was the smell of burnt sugar, the heat of the fire, or annabeth’s comment, luke started to feel dizzy. he did his best to shake it off, asking annabeth for a play-by-play of her strategy earlier that night, but he couldn’t quite get rid of the thought of you. 
(iii. you don't care if your clothes are stained with blood)
“i just….i can’t fucking believe you, luke.”
“i don’t get why you’re so upset — you’ve never cared about quests before.”
luke was hoping to break the news to you after capture the flag. unfortunately for him, word travels fast around camp. 
annabeth had the two of you scouting the east side for the flag, while she and some other athena kids took the west. you hadn’t found anything so far, which meant that you’d spent the better part of an hour bickering over luke’s choice of companions for his quest. a choice that included charles beckendorf and chris rodriguez, and purposefully did not include you, much to your fury.  
before you could continue arguing, luke heard the sound of footsteps approaching. he looked over to you, and you already had your shield and sword at the ready. 
a few red defenders emerged from the trees. one charged at luke, but you stepped in so he could deal with the other two. one of his opponents went down fairly easily, but the other put up much more of a fight. metal clashed behind him as you kept fighting as well. you might not have been as skilled a swordfighter as luke, but he knew that you could hold your own, at least until he was finished with the person in front of him. 
luke parried his opponent’s strike, causing them to take a step closer. he was preparing to disarm them, just as he heard you yelp and stumble to the ground. it only took a millisecond of his attention, but it gave his opponent the opportunity to elbow him in the face. luke felt a crack upon impact, and pain radiated from his nose; he powered through. 
he had to finish this fight, and he had to do it fast. you needed him. 
his ears were ringing as he finally knocked over his opponent, kicking away their sword and keeping his foot on their chest. luke turned around to see you having turned the tides, the blade of your sword dangerously close to your opponent’s neck.
you locked eyes with luke, and you both understood — it was time to go. the two of you ran through the forest, as far away as you could before having to stop and catch your breath.
luke removed his helmet to get some air, and dropped his weapons. you did the same. you looked at him, brows furrowed.
“your nose.”
luke licked his lips, tasting blood. the triumph of winning that last fight overshadowed the ache of his potentially broken nose. in fact, he liked the image of a ruthless warrior emerging from the glory and gore of battle, that even though he did not bleed ichor like a god, he still had power. 
you, on the other hand, didn’t look impressed. instead, you stepped forward and offered the sleeve of your shirt to wipe away the blood. 
“you don’t have to —”
“i know you think you’re a badass walking around all broken and bloody, but you shouldn’t deny your admirers your pretty face,” you teased. 
it was no secret that luke had numerous admirers around camp, a fact you loved to tease him about. he was sure that you relished in how flustered that made him. all you had to call him was pretty boy, and luke could be reduced to a blushing mess. 
it was pathetic how much power you had over him.
“besides, i wouldn’t have gotten out of that last fight if you hadn’t taught me that disarming technique earlier. i owe you. it’s what we do. we take care of each other, right?”
he couldn’t argue with that.
a few moments of silence passed as you cleaned his face. something shifted as you worked, the flirtatious grin fading away. when you pulled away, your sleeve was stained a dark crimson. 
“just tell me honestly,” you finally murmured. “why don't you want me to join your quest?” 
luke was genuinely taken aback by the softness of your voice, now devoid of its usual fire. you wouldn’t meet luke’s eyes, but being that close to you, he noticed they were slightly glazed over.
he had expected you to be angry at his decision. he expected you to yell and argue and try to change his mind. luke hadn’t expected you to be so hurt. so broken. 
he hadn’t planned on it, but luke decided to tell you the truth then.
“look, karma, if you come with me, my heart wouldn’t fully be in the quest. i’d be so caught up in….well, you.”
a pause.
“is that a bad thing?”
“not usually, no.” 
you smirked a little at that, and luke’s heart skipped a beat. it also made his decision even clearer. 
“but i need to be focused for this. i need….” he let out a deep sigh. “i need to prove myself. this is my first real chance, and i can’t fuck it up.”
you met his gaze and smiled brightly at him, your signature spark of confidence returning.  
“you won’t.”
you reached a hand up to play with his necklace. luke hadn’t noticed how close you’d gotten until your fingers started tracing over those four clay beads. it made his entire body burst into flames.
“i’ve been wanting to do something for a while. and, aphrodite save me, it might be really stupid, but —”
luke took a lucky guess as to where you were going, and crashed his lips against yours. aphrodite knows that he'd been wanting to do that for a while, too. 
he often got drunk on the adrenaline of battle, the glory of winning, but nothing was quite like the rush of kissing you for the first time. 
it was messy and urgent, both of you aware that, at any moment, you could be interrupted. your noses were bumping together, teeth clacking against each other. the metallic tang of blood lingered on luke’s tongue, but neither of you seemed to care. you even bit his lip slightly, as if you wanted more. armor sat heavy and cold between your chests, preventing you from getting closer. luke had never loathed the protective gear more. 
he made up for it by lodging one hand underneath your jaw, and snaking the other beneath the celestial bronze, beneath the cotton of your shirt, admiring how your pulse quickened under his thumb when he grazed the soft skin of your stomach. you tangled your hands into his hair, nails scraping against his scalp. he groaned and felt you smirk against his lips. 
luke had kissed a few people before, sure, but never like this: like a knife to the gut, and if you pulled away, luke would surely bleed out and die. 
it wouldn’t be a hero’s death, in the traditional sense, but at least he’d die happy. 
how many heroes could claim that?
when luke ran out of air, feeling like his lungs were burning, he had to pull away. 
you glanced down at luke’s kiss-bitten lips, then back to his eyes. luke flushed under the intensity of your gaze. 
“just promise me something, tiger,” you whispered, voice hoarse. 
“anything.”
“come back alive.”
luke leaned forward and placed another kiss on your lips, this one much gentler than before.
“i promise.”
(iv. you love like a scar that won't fade)
the nightmares were getting worse. 
luke woke up in a cold sweat, taking gulps of air in an attempt to steady his breathing.
“luke.” 
your whisper did little to quell the pit of dread growing in his stomach, but it did enough to bring him back down to reality. 
he was at camp half-blood (fuck the gods of olympus), in the hermes cabin (fuck you, dad), in a bed next to yours (fuck, if he could tell you what — who — was going through his head, he would).
“i’m…i’m fine,” he murmured back, voice catching slightly on the lie. 
like clockwork, you shifted from your bed to his, slipping under the covers. it didn’t matter that it was a hot summer night, and the minute your legs touched his, he could feel himself starting to overheat. 
your thumb brushed over the thick edge of his scar, up his cheekbone to the corner of his eye. it had been a year, living with this reminder. a reminder that he had failed, just as much as his father and the olympians had failed him. 
luke tried to pretend that he didn’t come back from his quest as a shell of who he once was. after all, it was meant to be his shining moment as a demigod, meant to gain him all the glory and father’s praise he once wished for. 
what a fucking joke.
every morning, luke would crawl into a different skin. he welcomed new campers and taught sword-fighting. he laughed with chris and his other siblings and strategized with annabeth for capture the flag. he would be the easy-going, charming, skillful senior counselor who respected the gods and honored them in everything he did. 
again: a fucking joke.
nights were different, though, with you so close to him, you who could always see right through him.
every night, luke was a fourteen-year old boy again, with so much rage and resentment he didn't know what to do with it. 
of course, you were always you - a bleeding heart underneath layers of armor. you didn't care about fate, or the gods, or the titans. you cared about justice, you cared about what was right and fair. 
most of all, you cared about luke.
“you were screaming,” you told him, voice barely cutting through the soft snores and sleeptalkings of your other cabinmates. 
“sorry,” he managed. looking at you in the dull moonlight, luke noticed the deep shadows under your eyes. 
“it’s fine. you just….you scared me, tiger.” 
your hand still rested on his cheek, and for a second, luke hoped you would kiss him, but you didn’t. instead, you told him to try and get some sleep, and sank further into his bed before closing your eyes. 
for the hundredth night in a row, luke hoped you couldn’t hear his heart hammering in his chest as you fell asleep next to him.
since coming back from his quest, luke didn’t have it in him to suggest being anything other than friends, and you didn’t push it. there had been a few....moments between you, sure, but nothing more.
luke thought you might have changed your mind, because who would want to be with a bitter, worthless, wannabe hero? then again, that voice haunting his dreams…. luke could change that. 
but, at what cost?
(v. you protect people as ruthlessly as a starving dog)
luke could hear you talking to percy jackson outside. though he couldn’t quite determine what was being said, as much as he tried.
you entered the bathroom and instantly caught luke’s eyes in the mirror. you were wearing your faded pyjama shorts with cartoon crows, and a flannel shirt that luke had a sneaking suspicion might have been his. you smiled at him before setting up at the counter, one sink between you. 
“what was that about?” luke asked after spitting out a mouthful of minty toothpaste.
“oh, nothing.” you were searching through your toiletry bag for something, and seemed to come up short. “hey, do you have any extra dental floss?”
luke threw some over to you. as you effortlessly caught it, he noticed your knuckles, bruised and bloodied.
“what happened?” 
you finished flossing and briefly examined your hands before pulling out your toothbrush. 
“it’s not a big deal,” you assured. “some ares kids were picking on percy, and then they started pushing him around, like, really pushing him around, so….” 
“....you decided to send them to the infirmary.”
you squeezed some toothpaste on your brush before continuing. “i don’t need you to lecture me about how i shouldn’t be fighting with other campers because i’ve been here longer and i should be a good role model. you know what a good role model does? not let kids beat up other kids and think the worst punishment they’ll get is no dessert for a week.”
luke watched carefully as you jammed the toothbrush in your mouth and brushed with such force, he was worried your teeth might dislodge. he knew that you would shed blood for someone you loved, and that you didn’t particularly care if you had to break rules in doing so, because you believed that what was written was not necessarily what was right. 
in fact, luke loved that about you.
no, it wasn’t the fighting that luke cared about — it was who you were fighting for. 
percy was a good kid, he really was. luke just didn’t want you getting attached. 
“i wasn’t going to lecture you. i’m guessing chiron already did?” 
you nodded and spat out what looked like a combination of toothpaste and blood. you rinsed your mouth until the water lost its pinkish hue. once you were done, luke continued his train of thought.
“i just didn’t realize you cared so much about him.”
“about percy?” 
luke could tell that he didn’t have your full attention. you were packing your stuff back up, accidentally tossing luke’s dental floss into your bag, but he had more pressing matters to deal with.
“yeah. the kid’s only been at camp for three days, and you’re already acting like his guard dog.”
you finally turned to luke and glared at him. 
“maybe. but percy’s sweet and he doesn’t seem like the type to put up with bullshit. he’s been through a lot, and annabeth seems to like him, too. as far as i’m concerned, percy’s one of us, and i’m not going to let anyone push him around.”
luke raised an eyebrow at you. “he’s sweet?”
“yeah. like, just now, he gave me some blue raspberry jelly beans as a thank you. said his mom used to work at a candy store. he also wanted me to apologize to you for him. he feels bad about beating you in sword-fighting earlier.” 
you scoffed, like you resented luke for having to apologize to him on percy’s behalf. you definitely did not appreciate that guard dog comment. luke clenched his jaw, seething over what you had just said. 
satisfied with his reaction, you gave luke that nauseating smile of yours, tilted your head towards the exit. a truce, because you never liked to fight with luke for too long, and a order, because you knew luke would always follow. 
the two of you began walking back to your cabin in the warm mid-june air. 
“i wouldn’t say he beat me,” luke huffed. “it was beginner’s luck.”
“sure, tiger. it was beginner’s luck that disarmed the best swordsman we’ve had in the last 300 years.”
you nudged luke’s shoulder with yours, but he recoiled from your touch. 
“are you trying to make me feel worse?” luke tried his best to avoid snapping at you, keeping his tone measured.
“i’m just saying that maybe the kid has natural talent and that doesn’t make you any less talented. there’s no need to get jealous.”
luke resisted the urge to growl at your suggestion. 
to be clear, he was not jealous. it’s just that luke had spent years of blood, sweat, and tears getting to where he was then, and percy jackson had just gotten to camp. 
and, to be even more clear, luke was not jealous of how you were already defending percy with your whole body and your whole heart, the way you did for him. 
by then, you reached the front of the hermes cabin. luke could already hear the commotion of what he would need to deal with as soon as he walked in. the burden of being head counselor, one he approached with an elastic smile that could snap at any moment. 
you tugged on luke’s sleeve before he could open the door. 
“hey. are we okay?”
luke looked down at your fingers grasping the fabric of a sweatshirt he was just realizing was yours. your nails were painted a dark red, now chipped after a week of wear. you had begged luke to paint his nails then, and once again, he gave in. he even started to like the purple you had chosen just for him, so deep it was almost black. the same color you were wearing the first time you and luke met.
he smiled at the memory — a real smile, no plastic — and then smiled back up at you.
“we’re fine, karma.” and he moved to enter the cabin. luke could hear the threat of an argument bubbling up, what sounded like a petty one over a prank gone wrong.
“wait.” you tugged at his (your) sweatshirt once more. “there’s something i wanted to talk to you about, about tomorrow night—”
“annabeth called a meeting during free time.”
“yeah, i know, it’s just —”
“she’ll run through strategy for capture the flag then.”
“one of the aphrodite senior campers asked me to the campfire,” you blurted it out, and luke decided to ignore the sound of a fight breaking out from behind the wooden door.
what in the name of hades were you talking about?
“they asked you out? like…like a….” luke didn’t even want to speak the word, scared it would make it real.
“a date,” you said casually, as if that one word didn’t rip luke’s heart in a million pieces. “i said yes.” an admission that took all those pieces and set them on fire. 
sure, in the seven years since you and luke met, you’d each talked about boys, about girls, about dating and kissing them and going further. but there was something about this one that felt different. something about the way you told him.
“but, listen, i wanted to let you know it’s not —”
“good for you,” was all luke said through gritted teeth before someone started calling his name again, louder and more urgently, and he had to duck inside.  
(vi. you taste like burning cherries and righteous anger)
your team had won capture the flag, of course. the biggest news of the evening, though: percy jackson was the son of the sea god. 
he was a forbidden child, the hero of the great prophecy. 
everything was falling into place. 
all luke should be thinking about is kronos’ plan, and his role in it, and how a world without the gods of olympus was that much more in reach.  
unfortunately, for the time being, he was so consumed by you. 
you, from across the campfire, sporting cutoff denim shorts and fresh wounds from the game earlier. you, who had wrapped your knuckles in gauze, concealing their bruising, fixed the chips in your nail polish and stacked rings on your fingers. (for the record: luke had gifted you the one on your left thumb.) you, with dark lips that whispered too closely and laughed too loudly with a child of aphrodite— jordan li.
you hadn’t so much as looked at luke since congratulating each other on another win. when chiron announced his weekly gratitude to the gods at the start of that night’s campfire, you didn’t punctuate your resentment with your usual eye-roll or biting remark. you were too busy giggling at something jordan said.
luke wanted to be the one to whisper jokes in your ear. he wanted to be the one you left lipstick stains on later, along his jaw and down his neck. he wanted to be the one who kissed the blade mark on your shoulder and the bruises on your knuckles. 
and yet, hours passed and it seemed that the thought of luke had never so much as crossed your mind. he found himself at an after hours party with a few senior campers on the beach. a lethal recipe: a poorly crafted bonfire, some contraband drinks and you in jordan li’s lap, playing with their hair and pretending luke castellan did not exist. 
meanwhile, luke had katie gardner’s full attention. she was talking to him about the strawberry season, potentially leaning a bit too close into luke’s personal space, definitely flirting with him. 
luke could have done a lot worse than the head counselor of the demeter cabin, who always smelled like fresh lavender, whose eyes were the bright green of spring grass and whose lips tasted like golden honey. 
the problem was that luke only wanted you, and his eyes kept sliding over to where you were kissing jordan’s cheek, and he accidentally called the girl he was kissing by your name, which did not make her happy. 
katie threw her drink in his face, told him to wake the fuck up, and walked away.
a chorus of gasps and chuckles erupted as luke stood there, diet coke and vodka seeping into his shirt. the commotion seemed to capture your attention, because you suddenly appeared next to luke, an empty bottle of cherry soda in your hand.
“rough night, tiger?” your voice, that nickname, made luke sick, his face twisting into a frown. you don’t seem to notice or care. instead, you switched your bottle with luke’s and took a sip.
“looks like you were having a pretty good time,” luke practically sneered. “where’s your date?” 
 “they went to bed.” you swallowed a mouthful of beer, grimacing at its bitterness. “gods, this is terrible. you and i should go on the drink run next time — we have better taste.”
“so, are you and jordan like a thing now?”
you gave luke a smile he didn’t quite understand, but made his stomach churn in ways only you could. “would that be a problem?”
“of course not.” he answered way too quickly for that to be true. 
“let’s get out of here,” you suggested. “i think katie is about this close to strangling you with a tree branch.”
luke glanced over your shoulder to where green eyes glared back at him. 
nowhere could luke find it in him to care. he wasn’t even sorry. he just shrugged, took the bottle back from you, took his first sip all night. luke almost gagged (because of course you were right, and the stoll brothers had better fake ids than they had taste) but he suppressed it. 
“no. i’m good.”
biggest lie he ever said. like there wasn’t anger caught in his throat and jealousy swelling between his ribs.
“go find jordan,” he taunted. “kiss them, show them a good time! isn’t that the reason why you got all pretty?”
you narrowed your eyes at him carefully. your nostrils were slightly flared, and luke took a bit of pride in being able to rile you up.
“look, we haven’t really talked lately, and i think we should.”
“go find jordan,” he mocked once more. “almost all the aphrodite kids are here, and i’m sure you can be quiet enough to sneak into their cabin and if you want a quick fu—”
“luke.” you clipped his name, obviously getting to the limit of your patience with him. “if you want to stay here all night and be an asshole, you’re welcome to. you should know, though, that your happy-go-lucky hero mask is starting to crack and i don’t know if you could deal with the fallout from it shattering completely.”
you leaned in close and whispered that last part, very aware of the chattering that stopped and the eyes that watched the pair of you anxiously. luke was usually good at hiding that part of himself who wanted to burn the world down. 
in ways you didn’t realize, you were right: he couldn’t risk revealing it, not now.
not yet. 
“do whatever you want, castellan,” you spat out his last name, the combination of letters foreign in your mouth.“i’m leaving.”
luke should be proud of himself. he waited a whole two seconds before following you like a stray dog. 
luke didn’t know if he’d ever felt you that enraged by him, and it horrified him. it also made him hungry for more. 
“i’m not sure that jordan would want the two of us alone together at night,” he shouted after you, words echoing into the starless sky.
“gods, enough about jordan!” luke practically ran into you with how fast you turned around to confront him. “i was helping them with that stupid aphrodite tradition!”
“you….” luke faltered, all the snark leaving his body. “what?”
luke remembered silena beauregard once explaining the rite of passage to him: to prove themselves, a child of aphrodite had to make someone fall in love with them, and then break their heart.
“why…why would you agree to do that?”
you had reached the dining area by then, and you sat on one of the steps leading to the pavilion. luke stayed a few feet away, looking at you cautiously. 
“jordan and i are already friends, and they figured a fake relationship would be the way to avoid anyone from actually getting hurt in the process.”
“you seemed so…so into it, though,” luke stammered, the memory of you in jordan’s lap, laughter bubbling from your lips, still fresh.
“it’s called acting, dumbass.” the camp didn’t rely on electricity, but there were enough torches around that luke could see you roll your eyes. “anyways, i was trying to give you a heads-up last night, but you wouldn’t listen.” you took a deep breath. “and, honestly, i didn’t push it because….i figured i should test a hypothesis.”
a hypothesis? you’d known annabeth for too long.
“what hypothesis?”
you hesitated. 
“it doesn’t matter. fuck, this was stupid,” you muttered, and without another word, stormed through the dining pavilion, a short cut to the hermes cabin. your footsteps fell heavy against the marble, and luke’s not far behind. 
“what hypothesis?” he asked again.
nothing but rushed footsteps.
“what hypothesis?” luke finally yelled.
third time was the charm, because you stopped in your tracks and faced luke once again. a fire burned in the bronze brazier, where campers were forced to offer up portions of your food to the gods at every meal. its roaring seemed to captivate you, and the flames danced across your face, illuminating all your curves and edges.
“i’m angry at the gods,” you stated. 
this caught luke off guard. from the day the two of you met, luke knew you shared that feeling. you’d gotten quieter with your rage as you’d gotten older. luke supposed he got better at hiding it himself, as well. 
“i’m angry at the gods for letting bad shit happen even if they can stop it, and for building this world in the fucked up way they did. i’m angry at your dad for the way he’s treated you, but — you, luke castellan.” you finally met luke’s eyes with a gaze so sharp, luke almost felt himself bleed. “i’m also angry at you, and not just for your bullshit tonight.” 
your admission felt like a punch to the stomach, and luke was left with no air to breathe.
did you know?
“you haven’t been the same since your quest,” you continued, words slow and deliberate, the way you spoke when you were worried your voice would shake. “and i’ve come to terms with that in the past few years, but you….you’ve never tried to ice me out before. you’ve been acting distant since december, and it’s been driving me insane. do you realize how much i miss my best …..” you swallowed the word friend. “how much i miss you?”
luke hesitated, because what could he say? i know i’ve been distant, but i’ve been busy trying to start a war between the gods. sorry babe! 
would you hate him, if you knew? 
you had to have known that, despite the distance, luke missed you. for tartarus sake, in the last two days, he’d driven himself mad at you calling a fourteen year old boy sweet, and he was about to combust at the image of you dating someone else, with little care as to the collateral damage. 
"you can't just avoid me, makeout with katie fucking gardner, and then….” you trailed off, hiding your face in your hands. whether it was to hide embarrassment or tears, luke wasn’t sure.
a smirk spread across luke’s face at the revelation that he hadn’t been the only one jealous at the bonfire that night. it lit luke up with the confidence he needed to not completely fall to his knees in front of you, beg for your forgiveness for everything he’s done.
“why do you care if i make out with katie fucking gardner?” 
as he waited for a response, luke walked towards you until your back hit one of the marble columns. 
“why do you care if i’m with jordan fucking li?” you clenched your jaw and looked right through luke. a clear indication that you wanted him to break down first; it wouldn’t be you who yielded this fight.
“because i want to be the one you’re with.” at that point, luke was so close to you that he swore he could hear your heartbeat. he reached out and played with the hem of your shorts. “why do you care if i make out with katie gardner?”
“because.” you drew in a sharp breath when luke’s fingers brushed underneath the denim, across the warm skin of your thigh. you closed your eyes. “don’t make me say it, tiger.” 
the desperation in your voice made luke want to do unholy things with you, to you. luke knew you didn’t think of him as a saint, and you never expected him to be one. the reality was that you weren’t much better, either. what was essentially an altar to the gods burned bright next to you, but it seemed neither of you had ever cared less about it than in that moment. 
luke would watch olympus fall. he would dethrone the gods and watch their glass castle shatter and find glory in a new world. in the grand scheme of things, he was willing to lose this battle.
in fact, he would have rather betrayed the titan lord himself than waste another second not kissing your lips. 
so, he kissed you, and you kissed him back with such force, such hunger, it was ungodly.
no, you certainly weren’t a saint — but you were divine, in the most brutal, intoxicating way. in the way you shuddered when luke lodged a leg between your thighs; in the way you threaded your fingers through the belt loops of his jeans to bring him closer; in the way the metal of your rings burned through the skin of his hip, right to the bone, which made him shudder, and you smile triumphantly against his jaw.
the more he tasted your smirk flavored by cherry soda and the ashes of nearby flames, the more he felt your feral teeth against his neck and your wicked nails digging into his shoulders, the more you tugged on his curls, the more luke thought: maybe. 
maybe you would give into your seething resentment, live up to those eye-rolls and snarky comments that got you in trouble with chiron, on the edge of hot water with the gods. maybe you would join the titan army. maybe, just maybe, this time, you would follow luke.
and yet — maybe wasn’t enough if it meant he could lose this. luke wouldn’t risk it, not until he kissed every battle scar and bruise on your body, and you did the same to his. 
“wait.”
it was the last thing luke wanted to do, but he complied. he took the opportunity to appreciate the chaos he created: your shirt in disarray, your lipstick a mess, your chest heaving and desperate to catch a breath. 
“i promised jordan that we’d keep up our charade for a week, two at the most. do you think we could keep this…” you tightened your fist around the fabric of his shirt. “a secret until then?”
luke responded by pressing his lips to yours once more, because there were definitely worse secrets to keep.
(vii. you wouldn’t hesitate to make him bleed)
luke had just left percy jackson to die.
he should be leaving camp, now, but he needed to see you one last time. 
the universe works in mysterious ways, because you were out on a run through the forest, and you crossed paths before he even had time to wonder where you were.
“hey, tiger.” you smiled as if this was a regular afternoon. the two of you would teach your afternoon activities, sneak away during dinner so luke could kiss you in that spot that made you gasp. “wanna join me? i was just wrapping up, but i could be convinced to go longer.”
for a second, he was tempted to. very tempted. 
“i don’t have much time.”
you seemed to notice luke’s sullen mood and you dropped your playful demeanor. 
luke explained: the messages from kronos in his dreams, him stealing the lightning bolt and helm of darkness to start a war between the gods and framing percy. the plan to destroy olympus that luke had pledged his life to.
percy was surprised at what luke had done, and luke could imagine that the rest of camp would be, too. luke was the golden boy of camp half-blood, everyone’s big brother. 
you, on the other hand, didn’t express any sense of shock. 
“luke.” you said his name like you weren’t quite sure it was poison. “i’m going to give you five seconds to tell me that you’re joking.”
five seconds of silence passed. you took a few steps back from luke.
“i….i should have told you sooner.”
“yeah,” you scoffed. “you should have. but, you didn’t. did it feel good, having the titan king whispering sweet nothings in your ear? all the lies about how this war is the only way to get the glory you so desperately want? it’s fucking delusional.” 
“it’s not delusional—”
“yes, it is!” you glared at him. “you’re on the wrong side of a war you made the mistake of starting.”
luke straightened his posture, thinking about how hypocritical you were being. 
“isn’t this what you’re all about? revenge, karma. your mom will probably join us, too. don’t you want to see the gods finally get what they deserve?”
“not like this. i can’t believe how desperate you are, to believe that kronos is going to make everything right. it’s pathetic,” you spat. “i’m not saying the gods don’t deserve to be taken down a notch. their fucking obsession with power and glory….it’s sick and twisted, but i don’t think your titan king is any better. i don’t think you are any better.” 
“it’s time that the gods fall. this is the only way, even if it isn’t perfect,” luke countered. his voice was firmer now as he absorbed your anger. your mother was the goddess of revenge, but you clearly didn't understand the sacrifices, pain, and blood that was required to make the world a better place.  
luke just needed to convince you.
“we’ve talked about this for years,” he continued. “nothing is balanced! there’s no justice here, for anyone.  we can build a better world where we don’t have to burn our scraps and throw ourselves at monsters to get attention. we can fight together like we always have. y/n, i love—”
“don’t,” you snapped. “don’t you fucking dare. you should have died on your quest.” your voice laced with venom. one hand gripping the knife you always kept on your belt. “that dragon should have fucking sliced through you and saved us all the trouble.”
something pricked in the back of his throat, down to his stomach.
“you don’t mean that.”
“i do,” you promised. “at least you would have died with all of us thinking you’re a hero instead of the traitor you really are.”
you grabbed your knife, took a fighting stance. 
“i’m not going to fight you,” was all luke could say. he noticed your hand tremble, and you tightened the grip on your knife to prevent emotion from slipping through your invisible armor. 
in that moment, you have could slice through luke, and it would hurt less than everything you just said, less than the murderous look you were giving him, like he was just another monster you wouldn’t think twice about sending to tartarus.
luke didn’t even have a chance to unsheathe his sword before you charged at him, but he quickly had you pinned to the ground, the tip of your own knife pointed at you. he hesitated. the blade pressed harder against your cheek than he intended, enough to break the skin and let a few droplets of dark crimson escape. 
“please come with me,” he pleaded. you didn’t answer, but you did seem surprised by the softness of his voice. 
a few moments passed, the celestial bronze still between you. luke waited for you to see his way, to yield to his proposal.
you didn’t. instead, you took advantage of the situation. you wrapped your leg around his and flipped your position. in the process, you regained possession of your knife. without the hesitation that held luke back, you sliced through his cheek, deep. luke bit his lip to suppress a groan, tasting blood. your gaze set his whole body on fire as he waited for your next move. that was when you glanced down at his camp necklace, and the new clay bead added to commemorate this summer.
a turquoise trident.
“percy told me he was on his way to see you,” you realized. “what did you do?”
luke didn’t answer. he knew then that a choice ran through your head. 
and it stung, just a little, watching you sprint away through the trees in a last ditch effort to save percy’s life. 
there was a small, pathetic part of luke that wanted you to choose him, even if it meant you would have plunged the knife into his chest.
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hoshigray · 1 year
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Alright, y'all, here's the plan: you're not quite aware of what Toji does for work, yet you keep quiet. But one night, the man comes home bleeding, and you can't keep your worries to yourself anymore. However, for your protection, Toji isn't ready to reveal his assassin business to you. And, in the heat of the moment, ends up saying something that hurts you instead...
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A/n: (Reuploaded bc I forgot smthn) This prompt was picked from a poll to celebrate the 300+ followers milestone (pssst tysm for 450+ you lovelies :D) two weeks back. Truthfully, I don't think this is my best work after proofreading, but I did my best. Probably bc 1) it's longer than I intended, and 2) I procrastinated waaaaay too much with this. I don't even think I made sense halfway through, lol, but fuck it, we ball. Anyways, like last time, there is art drawn by me (@hoshigaby) but it'll be found deep in the fic :33
I hope you enjoy the ride and reblogs + replies are much appreciated!! Also, don't be alarmed that Y/n in the drawing looks of a dark complexion, feel free to use your imagination if it doesn't suit you. But do not edit it; be an adult and ignore it if it's not your taste.
Cw: Toji x fem!reader - arguing/yelling - fingering (fem! receiving) - mating press - Daddy kink - first Toji is sour, then he's sweet bc he's whipped for you :) - clitoral play (pressing down and a pinch) - praise - breast fondling + nipple play - pet names (angel, baby, darlin', honey, kid, mama/ma, princess, sweetheart/sweetie) - Megumi mean-mugging his father while Tsumiki and Shiu Kong tell him to do better lol - mentions of blood and stab wound; isn't fully healed so reopens.
Wc: 5.8k
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"Uhh, are you sleeping on the couch?"
"Yes. Yes, I am."
"...Why??"
You scrunch your brow at your phone, looking at the two people you're talking to through the screen. "I know you're not about to get on my case over where I'm sleeping."
On the L-shaped couch lay you, cuddled up with a fluffy blanket and memory foam pillow, one hand holding your phone while another wrapped around a stuffed plushy. You were on a video call with your best friends: Utahime and Mei Mei.
Utahime, lying on her bed with a face mask, replied to you. "Oh, I'm definitely getting on your case because it's supposed to be the other way around!"
"True, but I like the couch anyways." You puff at the woman who's not satisfied with your answer. "Plus, I'm on the L-part of the couch, so it's practically like a bed!"
Your other friend, Mei Mei, chuckles at her screen. Icy blue hair pulled up in a bun with reading glasses positioned atop her forehead, probably counting her tips on her desk like she always does before bed. "My my, this is the fourth night this week. What did your man say to make you this upset?"
Memories of what happened before come back to you, and so does the exhausting irritation you've been trying to keep at bay.
It was a quiet night like this one as the rain fell hard on the silent streets. You've just put Tsumiki and Megumi to sleep and waited in the living room, watching a movie to pass the time. It was pretty late into the night when you heard the door open as drowsiness settled in. Nevertheless, you got up to greet the man you'd been waiting for coming from the entrance, but you weren't prepared for the sight that instantly woke you up.
Toji Fushiguro, groaning and leaning against the wall with his black jean jacket drenched from the rain. A hand was clenched on the left side of his torso, deep red tarnishing his plain white shirt. He was heaving in an attempt to even his breathing, but when he caught a glimpse of you standing before him, he was quick to try and play it off with a worn-out grin. "Hey, baby." His familiar deep voice was strained in subtle agony.
Worry bubbles within, and you rush towards him. "Oh my God, Toji, what happened!?" You remind yourself to not be too loud as the children are still asleep, so you rely on whisper yellings while walking him up to your shared bedroom.
Even in the room, Toji doesn't explain himself. Just silent hushes and cajoles that he's alright. "I'm fine, honey. Just tell me where's the first aid box." Pointing at the bathroom cabinet, you watch him leave your side to grab the kit. The crimson spilling from him is caused by a stab wound he reveals when he sits on the bathtub, lifting his shirt. You can feel your eyes water, imagining the pain he's going through when he hisses from putting on rubbing alcohol on the gash.
The words you want to say feel so forbidden. Your fingers fidget amongst themselves with the irregular beat of your chest. Don't say it, Y/n. Keep your mouth shut. Don't—
"Is this from work?"
Green eyes shoot back in your direction, and you immediately feel yourself sinking into a pool of regret.
Talk of Toji's occupation wasn't something you brought up much. Even at the beginning of your relationship, he didn't indulge in any insights about what he does, so you eventually quit after a few failed attempts. However, with all the nights he's come home while you sleep or the new scars you point out yet are brushed off, your anxiousness for him keeps festering. And seeing him with his own blood on his hands made you wonder how many nights he has pulled off doing such without your knowledge.
Toji's eyes go back to his wound. "Don't worry 'bout it." The stern tone of his voice has your blood turn cold. He didn't want to entertain this, especially in the wee hours of the night.
And yet you still persist. "No, Toji, I'm serious." You can see him glare at you through the raven bangs shading his forehead. A warning. But it doesn't stop you. "I'm getting worried about you."
From there was when the argument came. Every point you've made to him was shut down at once. His cold responses pierced you. Usually, you'd do what you can to avoid this type of confrontation. But now, it hurts even more when he doesn't cooperate with you, your concerns disregarded like rubbish.
"Damn it, Y/n!" Toji barks at you, seething through the physical pain as a fist bangs hard on the bathroom cabinet. "Why's it so hard for you to stay out of this?"
"Well, if you would tell me things instead of pushing me out the way, then maybe I wouldn't have to!" At this point, you're fighting the tears from falling. Your face hot with frustration, but you still speak. "Toji, I've done so much for you and the kids, and I—"
"No one told you to do—"
"Yet I STILL do!" It's your turn to yell. "I care about you deeply, same with Tsumiki and Megumi. I don't ask for much, Toji. But I want you to open your life to me just a little, even when you're hurt like this!"
His emerald eyes remain rigid despite your pleas to him. And what he said next had you still to the core. You can recall the beat of your heart corrupting your senses while the tears stride down.
"If you were goin' to be a thorn on my side like this, I wouldn't have let you be in it in the first place."
"He said WHAT!!??" Utahime shrieks after you retell the situation to your friends.
You nod your head. "I just looked at him, and he looked at me. Then I turned, picked my pillow up, and headed downstairs to this couch."
To say the dark-haired woman was livid was an understatement. "And tell me WHY this fucker isn't the one sleeping on this couch, again??"
"Even if I did tell him to sleep on the couch, he probably would say something like, 'Tch, why should I? I pay bills for this damn house,' and yadda, yadda." This is true, apart from the man being injured, so having him move would've been immoral. "Plus, I just really wanted to get outta the room, so I went ahead and moved myself out."
"So? You pay bills too, what the hell!? Good God, Y/n," Utahime shakes her head. "You sure we can't pummel this dude?"
"Yes, I'm sure. Besides, I'm getting used to ignoring him when I see him around the house. But, oh my God, guys, his kids," the phone panned down to the plush toy and the pink, fluffy blanket. "Miki saw me sleeping here the other morning and gave me this blanket. And Gumi — he's such a sweetie. He gave me his favorite froggy toy to sleep with to scare off his dad from 'bothering me in my dreams.' "
"Hmm, how adorable." Mei Mei comments. "Funny how such darlings can come from a guy like that."
Utahime nods rapidly and throws in her opinion. "Listen, Y/n, you shouldn't think you outta be in every part of that man's life. Even so, he should at least know how to compromise. I mean, come on, you take care of him, the kids, the house, and go to work with us. All of that just for you to sleep on a couch!?"
"You're not gonna let this couch thing go, aren't you?" The pale blue-haired woman chuckles again, and Utahime sighs. "But she's right, Y/n. It takes a certain kind of person to have the patience to do what you do in a relationship with a single father and two children. I'm sure Utahime would've left with all her hair out."
The dark-haired one gets up from her bed and takes her device with her, heading to the bathroom to finish her skin care. "Now, why am I the one used as an example?"
"Because you're the most vocal about a relationship that isn't yours." A sly smile is painted on Mei Mei's face after she hears a 'hmph!' from the other as Utahime removes the mask and washes her face. "My point is that you like this man — love him even. But that love shouldn't cost you to be so emotionally drained. Perhaps he understands this, except it wasn't the perfect moment for you two to express yourselves. Maybe talk to him when you two stop the silent treatment."
All you do is hum aimlessly, too wrapped in what your friend said to give a proper response. Then you yawn, your body signaling you to finally rest. "I'll sleep on that thought. Night, girlies~~" You wave and send kisses to the other two. They do the same as you leave the video call, placing the phone on the coffee table and snuggling up with the blanket and plush toy.
You try to distract yourself by thinking of what you'll do tomorrow. You gotta get up and make breakfast for Tsumiki and Megumi before waking them up, then head to the station and take the bus to work. Maybe you can finally try that new café close by with Mei Mei and Utahime for lunch. And when you return home, you should whip up something fun for the kids to eat.
Perhaps, make something for Toji since he sometimes forgets to feed himself when you're not around. Or if he's leaving for work, wish him a safe trip back home like always. And...if he's down for it...you can find the right time......to talk...about......
⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆
The moment you closed your eyes, it felt as though you were sleeping on your own bed again. When you turn to your side, your body descends into the feeling of cold sheets beneath you. It was pretty comfy! Plus, the blanket—
Wait...Sheets?
Your eyes slowly open to the sight of bedsheets underneath you. Navigating out of the sleepy stupor, you make out parts of your surroundings to know that you're not in the living room anymore. You slowly rise up to face the door of the bedroom. Your shared bedroom.
A sudden cough alerts you, forced as if to grab your attention. A chill crawls up your spine. Oh God, no. You turn to the side to see the man accompanying his side of the bed. And there he was, Toji, lying on his side with his head resting on a hand, looking dead at you. His raven hair looked damp from a recent shower, sporting only a grey wifebeater and dark sweatpants.
"Hey," is all he says to you. No smirk and no nickname followed with the greeting. Just a simple address to you with his green eyes softly watching yours. You almost fall into their inviting spell the more you look at them.
Nonetheless, it's not compelling enough since you remember he's the man you fought with four days ago — the same man you weren't prepared to see right now. You quickly turn away from him and lift the comforter to exit the room. However, Toji grabbed your wrist before your feet could touch the floor, his grip too strong for you to pull away from him.
You avoid eye contact with him, your back facing him. "Toji, let me go. I'm going to sleep."
"Then sleep."
"On the couch, Toji." You try and pull again. Nothing.
"Fuck that, just sleep here. I didn't carry you up here for nothin'."
You shake your head as you exhale through your nose. Of course, he carried me here. "Whatever happened to you not wanting me to be a part of your life?"
The words that left your lips surprised you and the grip around your wrist tightens. You didn't mean to say them, but it was the truth because they were his own words. Or did you?
Still facing away from Toji, you're unable to see his reaction. Oh shit, is he angry? Is he going to let me go after that?
"Darlin', please..." His deep voice hushed for only you to hear. "I just really need you with me here. Just for tonight...." His hold lessens, leaving you to decide whether you should stay.
The silence is uncomfortable for both of you — especially for Toji, who has you where he wants you to be, where you're supposed to be. As seconds pass when he doesn't hear from you, the nervousness that used to exist before your relationship rises back into the pit of his stomach. And his soul drops down when you remove your wrist from his hand.
Though, to his surprise, your hand lifts the comforter up while your legs move back on top of the mattress. You lay back down with a sigh, your back still facing Toji. "Did you give Miki back her blanket?"
Toji exhales quietly, situating himself back on his side of the bed. "Yeah, and Megumi with his toy."
You hum, and the silence fills the room once more.
Toji looks at nothing but your figure next to him, watching the rise and fall of your shoulder as you breathe silently, your face nestled comfortably on the pillow. To think it's been half a week since he last saw you in this room is hard to believe.
That night when you left him really stuck with him. The image of your face covered in tears was all he envisioned, the same with you grabbing your pillow and exiting the room. After tending his stab wound, he went down to talk it out. Yet when Toji saw you sleeping soundly on the couch with dried tears painting your pretty face, he didn't dare wake you up and just went to bed.
And it was worse the following days. Not only did he have you avoiding him at every chance, but he had to deal with the judgmental looks of his children. Never in his life has he seen Megumi give him glares that meant business. If looks could kill, Toji would be finished. And Tsumiki, his sweet little girl, now pesters him about being nice to Y/n, saying he should think about their feelings and apologize.
But what about his feelings? Does no one understand that he was just trying to keep you out of business that you didn't need to fret over? He's very aware that his job is not a normal one. It's dangerous, and anyone around him can get hurt or worse. Hence, keeping you away from this part of his life keeps you and his family safe. If not knowing he's an assassin keeps you from harm's way, why change that.
At least...that's what he thought, not what he said.
Even Shiu Kong, his handler, had something to say after telling him what had happened during lunch today. "Wow. I knew you were trash, but I didn't know you were that dumb, too." The man snickers when Toji shoves a middle finger his way. Shiu lights another cigarette after discarding the one he finishes. "Well, how were they supposed to know you were watching out for them? If someone you love comes to your front door bloody and sick, whose safety are you worrying about?"
Toji says nothing to that, letting the other man resume speaking some sense into him after taking a long sig from his cigarette.
"Look. I can't promise that this angel of yours wants to stay with you after what you said. That's all up to them. But until they decide that, I hope your dumbass realizes when someone sticks with you literally through blood and pain, that's someone who cares for you to the Moon and back. Not saying you should tell them what you do, but a nice word or two of comfort is all they need. If you're not that big of an idiot, reconcile and let them know you care about them."
"...Reconcile and let them know you care about them..."
If there's one thing that Toji has trouble with, it's knowing how to use his words. It was a tiny problem in the earlier stages of your relationship, but as time flew, you could guess how much the tall man cherishes you by his actions rather than words.
The older man knows that you know he loves you. But now, when he's pushed into a position where words are necessary to portray his real feelings for you, he feels stumped.
"If you were goin' to be a thorn on my side like this, I wouldn't have let you be in it in the first place."
Toji grimaces at his own words replaying in his head. Why the fuck did I say that?
"Whatever happened to you not wanting me to be a part of your life?"
Your words ring in his mind. Why did I fuckin' say that for? What the hell is wrong with me? What did—
"Toji?"
He returns to reality, eyes moving back to your still silhouette.
"I know you're still awake, so I'm gonna ask this." Toji braces himself for whatever your soft voice muttered. "Whatever job you're doing, is it a dangerous one?"
Shit. The dreaded talk is here, and Toji cannot escape it.
"Yeah."
"Are you good at your job?"
"It's the only thing I'm good at."
You nod your head aimlessly to his answer. Then you turn around to face the anxious older man. The moonlight peaking through the window blinds illuminates your face beautifully while Toji's breathing slows.
"I don't think that's true," you continue to answer. "You're good at being a father to Tsumiki and Megumi. Not the best, but a decent one nonetheless. You're also good at caring for me; letting me live with you and your family proves that. And lastly," Toji gulps with a dry throat.
"You're good at loving. You say you're lousy at it, but there's love in everything you do for me. It's there when you look at me whenever you think I'm unaware. Or when you silently grab my hand when in crowded areas. Or," a small chuckle exits from you. "When you carry me up from downstairs to the bedroom."
Toji's jade eyes lock in with yours, waiting for you to avert your gaze away from him. But you don't. You keep looking at him. You keep spoiling him. This type of recognition is something Toji never thought he deserved, so you giving it to him so effortlessly makes his growing guilt eat him alive.
"I care about you so much, Toji." You shift closer to Toji and bring a hand to his cheek, causing the man to lift his brows. Your face is only a few inches away from his. "What happened yesterday really scared me. All I could think about was the wound and all the scars you have. Where they all came from and how deep they are. Or......you never coming back."
"Baby..." Toji absently refers to you with a sweet name, placing his big hand on top of yours on his cheek. He lets you finish.
"I know you can't guarantee coming back to me unscathed, but I just want you to promise me something: please let me know you'll be okay. When you're gone, I can only hope you make it back home safely. So, just promise to not get yourself killed." A sheepish smile is used to ease the serious tone. "Even if I'm not in your life, I'm sure Tsumiki and Megumi would be pretty upset to not have you around."
Toji scoffs. "Trust me, I'm sure they'd leave me the moment you step out the door." That makes you laugh, and it has the man swooning hearing it. His hand moves to your cheek, and you allow him to stroke it with a thumb. "And I wouldn't blame 'em. Havin' such a beautiful and loving angel slip through my fingers?"
"Toji..."
"I'm sorry for what I said and scarin' you like that. If you aren't here with me, as part of my life and all, then I don't think I can't make a promise like that. You're too good fr' me, and I'm sorry if I didn't seem to appreciate you until now."
And you know he's genuine with his plea, his green eyes gauging your reaction to see if he's worth another chance. All you do is sigh and lift yourself up, wipe his wet bangs from his forehead, and kiss it. "Not the best apology, but I accept it."
He drones, relishing the feeling of your lips on him again. "So, are we cool, kid?"
"Yeah," you peer down at him with a smile, and he does the same. "We're cool. However, if you ever yell at me again, don't be surprised when I pack my bags."
"Oh yeah?" Toji raises a brow. "I'll be careful, then."
"You better." Hushed chuckles are shared to comfort the silence, enjoying the closeness between you two that felt like forever to have again. Just the two of you with you giggling above him and the light from the window cascading an ethereal glow to your features. Your teeth shied behind pretty lips, lips he wanted to kiss.
And you catch him looking. You notice him wanting you, needing you. Just as much as you need him. You slowly lean down to his face, planting your soft lips on his rigid pair.
Toji's surprised by the action for a moment, but he moans into your mouth and pulls you into him closer. The kiss starts off nice and slow yet quickly changes to one filled with passion and desire. Teeth clashing, tongues exchanging, sweet moans paired with aroused groans.
As you two are lost in each other's lips, Toji carefully maneuvers you on your back with him on top of you. Your legs find purchase around his waist as he rocks into your core, rocking your hips together in a steady rhythm by the second.
His hand snakes down to your lower region, fingers brushing past your pajamas and onto your panty-covered vulva. The intrusion has you breaking the kiss with heavy breaths filling the silent, moonlit room. He busses your chin down to your neck as shaky mewls slip out your mouth.
"Haaah, Toji, we shouldn't. It's late—Hmmm..." Your whimpers don't stop him from pulling your pajamas and undergarments off.
"It's okay, sweetheart, lemme make it up to you." He says in-between kisses on your clavicle, pulling up your shirt to reveal your bare chest. His free hand fondles a breast before his mouth goes for the other. "Let Daddy take care of you..."
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The sudden combination of his thick fingers intruding between your nether folds and his mouth sucking and licking your sensitive nipple has you whining in bliss, your hand gripping his wet raven hair resulting in a satisfied groan from the older man. Toji missed this — missed you — close to him, under him on this bed.
One finger plays with your wet chasm for a few moments before it's inserted inside. A shriek is let out as your cunt adjusts to the digit. "Mmmph! Oh God, Daddy, your fingers...Ahhh!"
A soft 'pop' leaves from Toji's mouth when pulled back from sucking on your nipple, his tongue lapping around the sensitive nob. "What's that, mama? My fingers feelin' good?" You nod rapidly, but that's not the answer Toji's looking for, so he bites on your nipple gingerly yet hard enough for you to jolt. "Daddy wants your words, angel."
"Yesss, yes, your fingers feel soo good," You mewl to him, and Toji chuckles dangerously low while rewarding you with another digit in your slick-coated hole. His abrupt middle finger joins his forefinger in attacking your velvety walls, and your voice shifts higher in ecstasy.
The sounds of Toji's tongue licking around your nipple coincide with the squelches between his fingers and your gushy slit. Your brain starts to short-circuit.
"Ahh! Ahhh! Daddy, I can feel—I'm gonna," Toji's fingers pick up the pace. You're so close to release, you can feel it.
"Gonna be good and cum on Daddy's fingers, right, baby?"
"Mhmmm, I wanna co—Oh, Jesus, I wanna come. Hoooooh..."
"Then go ahead, princess. Mess 'em up." Toji comes up to kiss your forehead as his fingers go irrationally fast, and a thumb sneaks to press down on your unattended clit. With a choked cry, you spasm and cream on his thick digits. He watches you finish, loving the image of your head pushed back on pillows and your body arching towards him.
He dismisses himself from you once you're done, licking his fingers of your essence and taking off his wifebeater and pants. The image of his free cock has you biting your lower lip in anticipation as you discard your shirt to the bedroom floor as well. When you look at Toji, you notice the bandaged patch on his left side. He sees you glimpsing, quick to ease your concerns. "I'll be fine, darlin'. Won't go too crazy." Looking at his scarred body in a new light, you nod and follow his lead.
Toji carries your legs up to move to the right of his shoulder, situating you two into a mating press. His dick aligns with your glossy cunt. Precum meets slick and lubricates the two sexes pushing into each other. Toji coaxes you. "Too tense, ma. Relax fr' me." You prepare yourself with even breaths, and the man pushes into you with each exhale.
The head of his cock enters, a cry departs from your lips, and Toji hisses with the tightness of your slit. His hips go slow, making sure your walls accommodate every vein and dent of his dick as it ventures deep within you. Hits to your G-spot have you babbling incoherent prayers, gripping the sheets under you.
When his cockhead finally meets your cervix, you sob his name in rapture. Toji smirks, dialing the pace of his thrusts up. "Mmmm, Christ, yr' tight pussy. So fuckin' perfect fr' me."
Every stroke prompts a euphoric moan from you, drool escaping your lips as your mind turns into putty. The noises of his pelvis smacking on your ass feel so wrong to hear, yet you can't help but grip around Toji's girthy length. It gets worse when he presses his entire body weight on you, forcing you to take his cock and abusing your tender cervix with every deep rut.
As for Toji, he's enjoying seeing you writhe and pant under his bow. The corner of your eyes sprinkled with tears, your mouth wailing in euphoric chants, the way your cunt clamps around his dick when he grinds his hips deep onto your come-covered folds. He can never get enough of this, enough of you, driving him so fucking crazy.
"Daddyyy, I'm gonna—Ahhaaaa!!" Toji's now going at an erratic cadence, his cock churning your insides as his heavy balls slapping your folds being the only things you can listen to. Your whines get higher and higher while chasing your climax. "Cu-cumming, I'm gonna cumm—Ohhh!!"
"Hnngh! Oh, shit, fuck, fuck. Me too, kid, me too," Toji groans into your ear. God, his deep voice makes your brain mush. "Oooooh, want me to fill you up, mama?"
Your head nods frantically, tears now staining your face. "Yessss, please, Daddy!! I want it!" Toji hears your pleas and smashes his mouth into yours, moans swapped between lips with tongues daubed in saliva. A hand is moved down to your clit, pinching the spot between Toji's forefinger and thumb. And your pussy tightens around his cock one last time before you peak onto him.
The fluttery spasms of your walls clenching around Toji have him finish in three deep strokes, spurting his seed inside you before he relaxes his heaving body on yours. The kiss breaks with you two huffing and panting, the final moments of your high finally depleting out of your nude bodies.
His green eyes take in your dazed expression, calloused fingers wiping your tears away. "How's that for an apology?"
"You pervy old man," You chuckle to yourself, so out of breath. "You're more of a man of action anyway, so you pulled through. "
"Hehe, I'll take it." He cups your jaw with his big hand, your eyes locked in with his. "I love you so fuckin' much, baby. Sorry for ever making you think otherwise."
You blink once. Twice. Your hands come up to his face, and a finger swipes away black bangs stuck to his sweaty forehead. "I love you too, Toji. I would've left your ass if you weren't."
Toji smiles and leans in to kiss your swollen lips with his scared ones; however, a sharp pain stops him, prompting the big man to yell out. Worried, you try to assess what's wrong. Then you see it: the blood-stained bandage on his left side.
A gasp catches his attention, and Toji turns to what you're gawking at. His body freezes, seeing the trail of blood exit from his reopened wound.
"Ahhhh shit..."
⋆⁺。˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚。⁺⋆
"Well, well, well," Utahime smirks at you through the screen. "I see you're not on the couch anymore."
You smile sheepishly as you lie on the pillows and headboard of your shared bed. Tsumiki and Megumi huddle beside you, napping blissfully around your presence under Tsumiki's pink blanket.
"Yeah, we made up last night." To avoid disturbing the children, you reply in whispers.
Mei Mei hums. "I see that. I assume you two had a nice talk about it?" You open your mouth, but no words come out. The two women quirk up a brow.
"Oh? I take it that there was more than just talking." Utahime chimes in, her smile going ear to ear while your eyes avoid the screen. "No wonder we didn't see you at work today. The dick so good it saved your relationship, huh?" She laughs at you hushing her up for using crude language while the children sleep. "Well, happy you two figured it out. But don't think I won't come over there and beat his ass the next time I see you on that couch."
"I second that," Mei Mei agrees. "But Uta can do the beatdown; I'm more interested in what he has in his wallet."
"Not much, I'll tell you that." you correct your friend. "I'm the one who takes care of his finances for safe-keeping."
"Well, that makes things easier for me."
The three of you laugh through your devices. Then you hear heavy footsteps drawing closer from the stairs. "Oop, he's back now. I'll talk to you guys later!" You hurriedly wave and kiss your friends goodbye before ending the video call. The bedroom door opens, and there he is.
Toji flashes a quick smile at you before it vanishes once he sees his kids nestled around you. "I was hopin' to get some alone time with you."
You giggle as you brush Tsumik's hair away from her pretty face. "You're back early. Is your wound okay now?"
"Hmph, yeah, thanks to you pushin' me out the way and grabbin' for the first aid kit." Toji pokes fun at you for the event from last night, where you immediately pushed the brawny man off of you and ran for the tools necessary to treat his open injury the moment you saw blood. You chuckle and watch the tall man climb into bed. "Doc said it should fully heal within a week or two. Why the squirts here?"
"They were happy to find me back in the room for a nap, so they joined me and kept me company." Megumi snuggles close to you for warmth, and you pick him up to your chest.
"Well, they're takin' my spot."
"I don't think they care."
Toji pinches your nose for your snarky remark, and you wriggle out of his fingers with quiet chuckles. His hand then cups your face and pulls you to face him, his emerald eyes softly gazing into you.
"You know I love the hell outta you, right?" His deep voice sounds sweet to the ears. You purr into his hand. "And I hope you know I'm the same for you." He nods. You smile.
He hesitates for a split second, but Toji leans close to kiss your tender lips. Only for a tiny hand to come smacking him in the face, halting him from further movement. To the shock of you both, Megumi was back awake, sending a mean look at his father.
Toji groans in annoyance. "What was that for, brat?"
"For making Y/n sad." Megumi keeps his hold on you secure as he and Toji mean-mug each other. Queuing Tsumiki from her slumber, defending you from her father. "Apologize or stay away!" The little girl warns the older man.
You're quick to break up the mini-fight amongst the Fushiguros. "Alright, kids, no need to worry about me. Your dad already apologized to me by promising to take us out for dinner tonight." Childish faces beam in delight while Toji shifts to instant puzzlement. "Now go get ready and put on your shoes!" Tsumiki and Megumi do just that, rushing out of your shared room and to their own.
When you can't hear the pitter-patter of little feet anymore, you feel big strong arms haul you into Toji's embrace, attacking you with tickles. You try to squirm your way out, but it's no use when he uses his body to cage you in. "Who told you to make promises on my name, huh? You tryna be bratty with me, kid?" He grins at your ticklish suffering.
"Then don't you—Oh God, stop!" It's difficult finishing your statement while fighting back laughter and screams. "Don't you ever yell at me again!"
He stops tickling you, thank God. You catch your breath as Toji looks at you under him with a proud smile. "I don't plan on it, sweetie. Now c'mere."
Toji finally has his lips placed on your soft ones, and you happily return the favor by wrapping your arms around his neck to pepper him with delicate kisses. But the romantic atmosphere vanishes when the children come and dogpile on Toji after hearing your ticklish screams, forcing the older Fushiguro off of you to deal with his kids with tickles of their own.
Observing the children laugh and squirm under Toji's merciless fingers, a soft smile adorns your face watching the domestic display before you and thinking how lucky you are to witness such a thing. Well, that's before all three of them turn to you and bring you another ticklish horror.
And despite the torture, your screams and giggles are filled with pure joy and contentment, and you wouldn't have it any other way.
3K notes · View notes
mysicklove · 7 months
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𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐘
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DAY 31: MASTURBATION
With: Izuku Midoriya
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings: subish! Izuku, fem/afab reader, izuku masturbates to your voicemail and pretends to fuck you, reader calls him baby, and he calls u hun, needy izuku
A/N: masturbation fics are so fun to write for no reason. anyways, my last kinktober fic. crazy. it doesnt feel this way cause i wrote it halfway through lol.
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Izuku was left alone for too long. On the verge of three weeks to be exact.
He wasn't left completely alone, of course. He was just overseas, on an important mission. He was separated from you, but that to his love-sick brain, meant he was left alone. His sleep schedule is all messed up from the times he stayed up late at night to wish you goodmorning, or the times where he woke up super early to catch you before you ate dinner. 
He missed you, an ungodly amount. When he comes home to his luxury hotel, and flops onto the bed, the only thing he can think about is you. What it would feel like to wraps his arms around you, and melt in your warmth. The way your fingers would run through his hair, and comfort him from all he did that day.
Of course he had those innocent, romantic thoughts most of the time, but somehow one way or another those fantasies began to change. The touches reach lower, your words begin to drip with honey, and your lips seem to be more passionate, desperate even. Until five out of the seven days, he daydreams about fucking you. 
He lays against the bed frame, shirtless, and dick pulled out of his boxers. The trip back to the hotel was long, and he's been thinking about doing this for the past hour now. He prepared everything ahead of time, because if he was doing something as pathetic as this, at least do it right.
The lights were dimmed, and his eyelids are drooping, exhausted from the day. He slowly reaches toward the nightstand and grabs a couple of tissues, setting them down next to him. Then with a sigh, he puts his phone up to his ear, and brings his hand to his cock. 
He gulps when he hears your voice, wishing desperately that you weren't asleep. Its got to be around 5 am by that time, and of course he wished he was patient enough to wait a couple hours for you to talk to him. But, he was desperate, and the voicemail you left him a couple hours earlier did the job.
“Hey baby,” Your voice broadcast, and immediately he seems to melt. His eyes fall shut and his hands begins to move up and down his half hard cock. He hums in reply, not caring if you cant hear him. “I miss you. Saw a kid walk by me with your merch on, made me smile,” You say, your voice slightly muffled from a task you must be doing. 
He huffs a laugh, head falling to the side. “Yeah?” He breathes, thumb rubbing at the tip, and then falling back down to his shaft in a repetitive motion. You continue on about your day, mentioning nothing too important, just how you went grocery shopping and a nice walk after work. “You shouldnt be working. Can take care of you,” Izuku mumbles, eyes peering open just slightly to watch his movements.
His cock was on full display now, the tip a pretty shade of pink, and beginning to leak. You always called it pretty. A strange thing to say about a penis, but he soaked up the praise, taking pride in his cock now. 
The thought made his mind wander. Would you praise him for what he was doing now? He wasnt supposed to touch himself without you, but its been three weeks, you have got to understand. Were you touching yourself thinking about him? The thought sends a thrilling shiver down his spine.
Your voice was now a background noise, just listening to the tone, the sound of it, but nothing of what you were saying. Maybe you were cooing at him. Telling him how good he is doing. Or maybe you were calling him a pervert for doing something so gross without you knowing. He lets out a shaky moan, mewling out and picking up the pace of his hand. 
“I miss you,” He warbles into the phone, on top of your speech. What were you talking about now? A dog you saw? Nothing important. Why weren't you touching yourself to his voice? He would die for an audio of that. Or even an audio of where you give him directions of how to do touch himself correctly.
No Izuku, slow down. Don't hurt yourself, baby. Your voice clouds his mind, and he nods, peering back to his cock and slowing his hand down. Thats it. Tighten your hand, and focus on the tip. He obeys, moving his hand up to the head, and making small pumps there. “S-Sensitive there,” He groans to the empty hotelroom, shaking his head from side to side when his heartbeat begins to pick up.
“Went into Victoria's Secret today,” You hum, and his eyes widen, attention snapping back to your voicemail. He quickly turns up the volume and pressing the phone closer to his ear. “Bought something you’ll love. Red is your favorite, yeah?”
Lewd images flash through his head of dark red lingerie sets and he nods. “Fuck. Please,” He moans, wishing he was there to pick it out with you. His dick twitches, and a glob of precum leaks out. Green eyes flicker to it, and he uses his thumb to swirl it around the head, flinger glazing over the slit. “Wanna see,” Izuku pants, growing hot.
You seem to have heard his reply and it makes him whine. “You don't get to see till you get home. A nice reward for doing so good all this time you are away,” You purr, making a short kissing noise into the mic and laughing.
His eyebrows furrow at the possibilities and his mind drifts off from your voice again. Suddenly he is there with you, his rough hands trailing up and down your body. The dark lingerie looks perfect against your skin tone, and his mouth waters at the sight. Well, look how needy you are Deku. Do you want to fuck me that bad?
He nods his head frantically, hand unconsciously picking up the pace. “Please. Please, beggin’ you,” he chants under his breath, his back slightly arching off the frame. He dully notices that the voicemail has ended, but doesnt pay attention to it, too immersed in the movie playing in his head.
His mind cuts the scene forward, growing too impatient and desperate as his orgasm begins to approach. You are under him, sending scratch marks down his back while moaning out. His thrusts are frantic, and he tries to pretend that his hand is you. Its not the same, but it will do. 
“Am I doing good?” He mumbles, dropping his phone onto the bed and resting the other hand on his thigh. You nod at him, kissing his cheek with redden cheeks, and lazy grin. A view he has seen so many times that he has a perfect mental image of it. 
So good, Izuku. You wanna cum inside?
He moans, louder than he should, considering the thin walls, but he doesnt care at the moment. He never gets to cum inside – this was something he was waiting to hear. “Fuck. Pleaseeee,” He whimpers, eyebrows furrowing and hand frantically moving up and down. His cock is lubed up with pre, and its easier for his hand to move now. 
He climbs closer and closer to his high and now hes hunched slightly over on himself. Suddenly, he hears his phone ringing, cutting him out of his perfect daydream. Just a couple of seconds, he just needs a couple seconds more of fucking you, and then he can take this call. He whines slightly, and peers over at it, not stopping his movements.
When he sees your name his eyes light up, and he grabs the phone and brings it to his ear immediately. His hands makes a lewd squelching noise, but he too fucked out to care if you hear.
A couple of seconds go by, and he breathes into the mic, waiting. And then he hears a groggy, “Hey baby,” and he cums on the spot. Groaning into the phone without a care as cum spills out on his hands and his whole body shakes. 
Another second goes by, as you wait silently on your side, confused on what was happening, but too sleepy to put two and two together. Izuku's chest rises and falls with every breath, and he stares at his cum covered hand, trying not to let out a sound of complaint when he realized he forgot to cum into the tissue.
He blinks a couple times, exhausted but glowing. “Hey hun. Was just thinkin’ bout you,” He hums, grinning at his sticky hand and closing his eyes when he hears your girlish giggle.
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PREV POST | MASTERLIST | NEXT POST
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2K notes · View notes
chryblossomjjk · 2 years
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practice | jjk
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⇢ PAIRING: fuckboy!jk x inexperienced reader
⇢ RATING/GENRE: m/18+ | college au, fwb, smut
⇢ WC: 8.1k
⇢ WARNINGS: mentions of bad sexual experiences, nickname you guys might find cringey (sorry babes), praise, a little degradation, a little manhandling, oral sex (f recieving), fingering, squirting, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, very brief mentions of anal play, brief mentions of sex toys and masturbation, spitting, titty sucking, protected sex (hes a hoe but not a dummy), jk is kinda a himbo (scratch that last side note), jk running through twice members lmao sorry girlies, pining, maybe unrequited love, maybe not, ill let u decide, oc is in denial in the beginning, oc has that lemon water coochie!!, daddy kink + daddy kink slander (not seriously!), slight corruption kink
⇢ SUMMARY: you usually spend friday nights on your own. tonight, however, your friend and campus fuckboy, jungkook, decides to pay you a visit.
⇢ NOTES: hi friends!! i’m back with my second fic!! i posted this last night but miss ting had a bad case of the typos rip. so I had it beta'd by @kookstempo pls go give her love >:((( ! i found the smut a little easier to write this time. still not that good lol but not as mentally taxing! oc is totally definitely not a little bit of a projection of me haha thisficwassexuallycathartictowrite i hope you guys like it! i would love to know your thoughts! also would be v cool if you checked out my masterlist. love u bye!!
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⇢ SERIES MASTERLIST
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It’s 10 p.m. on a Friday. 
The night of the week that lures college students out of their suffocating dorm rooms with the promise of parties and alcohol. After days of classes, hours of studying, and minutes of sleep, most people your age spend their weekends unwinding, hopping from frat house to frat house.
One of the many perks of living on campus is the social life. Being surrounded by young adults is exciting. It also means that everyone is horny. Ravenously so. Seriously. Anything with a hole or phallic-shaped appendage is a prime candidate for getting fucked. 
Anything and everyone, except you. 
It wasn’t that you couldn’t get fucked, per se. Although abundant, your options were limited. Given the environment, it was difficult to find a guy you actually felt comfortable with. He didn’t have to be in love with you, but he did have to respect you if he wanted to get anywhere near your sugar walls. With that being said, it was slim pickings.
You coped well, for the most part. But it was hard to shake the lonely feelings that bubbled in your chest from time to time. And the feral ones. Nothing a quick rub from your petite, manicured fingers couldn’t satisfy, you suppose…
Besides, all men do is disappoint you. The only two sexual partners you’ve had thus far were subpar, to say the least. Greedy. Disgusting. Selfish. Not an ounce of concern for your pleasure. As embarrassing as it was to admit, you’ve never orgasmed from sex. Not even close. That left a sour, lemony taste in your mouth. Ever since then, your pussy was on hiatus, locked away in the highest room of the tallest tower, until a worthy knight came to save it from this tortuous dry spell. 
You sigh, peeling the honey-drenched sheet mask off your face and tossing it into the trash with vigor. You eye yourself in the mirror with a scowl. Fluffy, freshly plucked brows knit together as you examine your appearance. You’re wearing a cropped white tank top, nipples poking through the little animated cherubs printed on the front. The baby pink Sailor Moon pajama shorts on your thighs left little to the imagination. White kitty ears headband keeping those annoying baby hairs out of your face. 
You’re cute, right?
Atleast you tried to look cute.
Your roommate, Mina, was visiting family for the weekend, leaving you the dorm to yourself. Without your extraverted lifeline, you decided it was the perfect opportunity to stay in and pamper yourself. 
You’ve already waxed your body, head to toe, with that expensive sugaring wax Mina begged you not to get. ‘It was worth it,’ you thought to yourself when you had spread your peach-scented lotion on the smooth canvas of your legs after the shower.
You even gave yourself a facial. Extractions and all. Much cooler and more productive than partying and getting laid.
You take your headband off, ruffling your thick hair until it falls into place. You reach for your candy-flavored Laneige lip mask, spreading it across your plump pout with your middle finger. Another overpriced purchase.
You exit the bathroom, shuffling towards your twin-sized bed and then falling face first into the plush, ivory duvet. So comfy. It wasn’t even midnight and you were ready to hit the hay. 
You had planned to study a bit before knocking out, but the warm shower left you sleepy. Plus, the past week has been hell. Two papers and an impromptu quiz from your least favorite professor. You were a good student. A great one, even. But you were an overachiever to the core, and still found yourself stressing over assignments you knew you aced.
You let out a small yawn, squinting at the brightness around you. Along the wall beside your bed were vine garlands, embellished with little fairy lights and pink roses. They were such a pain in the ass to put up. It took you and Mina nearly three hours, and a mental breakdown on your behalf, to stick them against the drywall in the right position. High maintenance, but cute, nonetheless. Kinda like you. 
The lights dim as your mind turns hazy, eventually turning into a silent black as sleep clouds your vision. Sweet, blissful sleep. You were teetering into the REM phase when-
Knock. Knock.
The booming noise startles you awake, rattling the brittle wood of your cheaply built door. The wall hangings flutter in its wake. 
Maybe you were being dramatic. The knocks were actually soft and melodic. Almost cheerful as they followed the rhythm of a made-up song. But you were pissed. Even the most heavenly sound would ring demonic and evil in your ears at the moment. 
You shove yourself off of your bed with an exaggerated groan, stomping towards the door and yanking it open, fully prepared to yell at whoever was behind it.
Jeon Jungkook. 
His expression is blank, doe-eyes widening as he takes in your expression. Your body language radiates hostility and violence. The silver barbell glimmers as his thick, dark brows twitch in confusion. He blinks before opening his mouth. “Hey,” he utters hastily. 
Under different circumstances, you would be ecstatic.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Jungkook?” 
“Woah, someone’s cranky,” he laughs hesitantly. “I was bored. Figured you were, too. Mina is gone, right?”
“Are you drunk or something?”
“What- no,” his plump lips form a pout, the matching silver ring on the bottom corner shining as well. 
You sneer at him, pupils darting over his outfit. Oversized gray hoodie, white t-shirt peeking from the unzipped portion at the top. Gray sweatpants. Your gaze lingers on the tight pull of the material in the front. He doesn’t seem drunk, and he isn’t dressed in his usual party attire. 
“I just want to hang out with you. Why are you acting so sus?” 
You roll your eyes, doing everything in your power to exaggerate your irritation. “Why are you here?” 
“Oh, come on, Bambi. Don’t be like that.”
Bambi.
That stupid nickname. 
You and Jungkook had met at a party after you were peer pressured into a game of beer pong. The super boisterous, super attractive stranger ended up being your partner by default. 
"What do you mean you’ve never played before?" He questioned you, voice laced with devastation when he realized you were about to cost him his undefeated streak. 
Despite Jungkook’s best efforts, Mina and her boyfriend, Taehyung, mopped the floor with you. 
"You know what, I like you. You’re a little bitchy but-,” he slurred at the end of the night, helping you gather the discarded solo cups, "Also innocent. Kinda like a baby deer. What the fuck was that movie?"
You answered him curtly with a scowl. 
"Bambi! Right… I can’t wait to ruin you." He was so wasted that night he ended up vomiting off of the second-floor balcony and onto the class president’s Honda Civic. Not drunk enough to forget the awfully humiliating, yet adorable nickname he had bestowed you. 
“Give me one good reason why I should let you in.”
“I have pancakes,” he beams with pride, bunny teeth peeking out. He raises both arms, showing you the crinkled takeout bags in his hands. “Chocolate chip-”
“That’s disgusting,” you scoff. 
“And blueberry,” he retorts with a squint. “Please? I won’t be annoying, I promise.”
You let out a contemplative noise. It wasn’t what you had planned for the night, but you guess company wouldn’t hurt. Especially his company.
If only you could mute your evil brain. 
“I thought you had plans with whatsherface,” you question, stepping aside to let Jungkook enter your room. 
He kicks his slides off at the door, something you’ve drilled into his head with violent words and empty threats. You remember him texting the groupchat a screenshot of his calendar, tonight being marked ‘PUSSY APPOINTMENT’ with the woozy face emoji next to it. The same one that was inked on his middle finger; it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why. Tonight was one of many slots in his month with the exact same title. That picture was deleted from your phone as soon as you received it. 
“Sana,” he corrects, face unimpressed like he expected you to keep a mental catalog of all his flavors of the week.
You did. Every time a new name was added to the roster, your heart sank. You would never admit it though. 
“I did, but I guess she has a boyfriend now or some shit?” He plops down onto the baby pink area rug beside your bed, immediately digging through the takeout bags. 
“How dare she?” You gasp sarcastically, taking the styrofoam container that he held up for you and sitting criss-cross on your bed.
“I know, right? That’s what I’m saying,” he laughs, opening a syrup packet and pouring it over his pancakes. 
You cringe, foreseeing a sticky, impossible to clean mess all over your floor. “Please don’t fuck up my rug, Jungkook.”
“I won’t,” he mumbles halfheartedly, bringing the pad of his thumb to his mouth. The tip of his tongue pokes out to kitten lick at the sugary liquid before wrapping his plump, pink lips around it.
He sucks gently and then pulls off with a tiny smooch. 
Wow. 
Are you really that far gone? There was no denying that Jungkook was attractive. But were you really that touch starved that you were drooling over every minuscule, minute movement he made? 
“Maybe she was sick of you stringing her along,” you comment, trying to cover up the fact that you were totally just gawking at him.
“Nah,” he murmurs through chubby cheeks, mouth full of pancake. “She knew it was just sex.”
“Did she though? What about Dahyun?”
“Well aware.”
“Jihyo?”
“Yep.”
“Nayeon?”
“Are you slut-shaming me?” He points his plastic fork at you, bringing the opposite hand to his chest in feigned offense. “Because I feel very attacked right now.”
You playfully nudge his shoulder with your thigh-high sock-clad foot, deciding to drop the subject. To be fair, he wasn’t wrong. Jungkook had a reputation on campus. Every girl who involved themselves with him knew what the outcome would be. He was very blunt about his desires and disinterests. Sex being the prior. Commitment being the latter.
But you suppose remaining detached was easier said than done. Something about him was… magnetic. He was bold, yet soft. Obnoxious, but endearing. A sweet talker for sure. And easily the freest person you’ve ever known. Add sex into the equation, and it must be nearly impossible not to fall in love with him…
Hm. That’s enough thinking for the night. 
You need background noise to keep intrusive thoughts at bay. He peeps an ‘I don’t care’ when you ask him what he wants to watch. You take it upon yourself. Sailor Moon it is.
The pancakes keep him preoccupied for a while. You glance down at him every now and then. His eyes sparkle as he watches the cartoon on your phone screen. There’s a little speck of chocolate on the corner of his mouth. His tongue makes an encore appearance, licking it away before fidgeting with his lip. How sinful. 
He starts getting squirmy about halfway through the episode. Antsy hands pull at the strings on the border of the carpet below him. Every now and then he draws a shape and erases it. One of the shapes is a penis, something you’d see on the back of a middle school textbook. 
He scoots with a sigh, pressing his spine against the edge of your bed, and then bending his head back. Fluffy dark strands tickle your legs as he peers up at you. “Can you play with my hair?”
“Why would I do that?” You huff, hot and bothered by the sudden contact.
“It helps me stay still. Please?”
“Oh, um- okay,” you oblige, gulping like you’ve dry swallowed a huge pill. You cautiously card your digits through his hair. It’s so soft and healthy. 
He purrs and closes his eyes. 
He's silent once again, enjoying your touch, even pushing into it a bit. Very cat-like.
That lasts for about three minutes. His inability to not speak every single thought that enters the void of his mind takes over.
‘I just realized they’re all named after planets.’
‘Wait, the moon isn’t a planet, is it?’
‘Why are they dressed so sexy to fight space monsters?’
“Jungkook, shut up!”
“But I’m bored,” he whines. “Is this really how you spend your Friday nights?”
“Excuse me, I’d like to see you take STEM classes for a week and then tell me how you feel,” you contend, leaning over to grab your phone off the nightstand. You don’t miss the way his gaze lingers on your nipples. It makes your palms clammy. “Sometimes, it’s nice to just chill.”
“You don’t masturbate?” He asks calmly as if he had just inquired about the weather. 
You give him an exasperated look.
“What? That’s how I destress,” he continues, shrugging nonchalantly. “Don’t you have a vibrator?”
“I- no! Why are you asking all these questions?” You shriek, absolutely mortified.
“What do you mean ‘no’?” He lifts his head off of your lap, craning his neck so you can see his appalled expression, your answer leaving him equally as mortified. “Damn, that’s wild,” he tuts in disapproval.
“I would rather not have to smuggle a sex toy into my dorm room, Jungkook,” you retort.
“You can borrow mine,” he smirks, turning his body to face you, obviously relishing in the reactions he’s pulling out of you. “It’s a Hitachi. It’s really strong too, like, most girls don’t even last five minutes.” 
“Why do you have- you know what, nevermind actually!” You clench your eyes shut, poking your fingers into your ears and shaking your head dramatically. Your reaction is mostly out of embarrassment and partly because the thought of him pleasing women who aren’t you hurts for whatever reason. “I’m done with this discussion!”
“Seriously?” He wheezes, thoroughly enjoying your tantrum. He wraps his long, nimble fingers around your wrists, pulling your hands away. Your skin burns under the touch. “I want to get to know you more.”
“Yeah, but you don’t need to know-,” you rip out of his grasp, flailing your hands around in circular motions, “-those things.”
“I’m just trying to make conversation,” he frowns. 
“About?”
“Anything.”
“Okay, um...” you look around the room nervously, searching for the right thing to say. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Black. What’s your favorite position?”
“Jungkook!”
“I think missionary is my favorite. Very underrated,” he says, tapping his chin like it’s an answer only an intellectual would’ve given. “The kind where her legs are pushed alllll the way back,” he emphasizes the ‘all’ by balling his hands into fists and lifting them up by his head, showing you exactly where he likes them. “You hit the g-spot perfectly that way.”
You level him with a scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. Unamusement written all over. 
“Why are you so mad?” He laughs. “What? You’re embarrassed to talk about sex?” 
A pause. 
“You’re not a virgin, are you?”
“Jungkook, no…” you sigh, rubbing your temples in frustration. “I’m just not like you, okay? I don’t like sex as much as you and everybody else on this fucking campus does!”
He hesitates for a moment as he processes your sudden outburst. The first time you’ve ever seen him rendered speechless. You can picture the cogs turning in that thick skull of his. 
He inhales sharply, eyebrows raising up to his hairline as if something clicked. His tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek, cute dimple peeping out from the pull. His head drops as he huffs out a laugh.
“What’s so funny, Jeon?”
“Ah, I see now.”
“See what?” You groan, bothered by his vagueness. 
“Here's what I think, Bambi,” he mumbles in a low tone, sitting up from his spot on the floor so his gaze is aligned with yours. His palms are on either of your crossed legs, fingers curling into your white blanket. Forcing you to make eye contact with him- his pupils are black, nothing like the soft brown you’re accustomed to. “You’re so uptight because you haven’t had sex in a while- good sex, at least.”
Your breath catches in your throat. You say nothing.
“The guys you fuck don’t know how to treat you, am I right? They can’t make you cum?”
Crickets.
Your lack of response tells him the answer.
When you do speak, your words come out shaky. “Well, what makes you any different?” 
He shuffles closer, knocking his forehead right against yours, invading your space. He’s so close that you feel claustrophobic. Your heart pounds in your chest.
“I always make the girl cum.”
“Yeah?”
“Mhm,” he hums through curled lips as he nods, silver hoops swaying at the motion, nose brushing against yours. “More than once.”
His dilated pupils scan over your body, pausing at your chest for a moment, and then continuing their descent. A hand slides up your bare thigh, the warm touch leaving goosebumps in its wake. He grabs the hem of your shorts between his index and middle fingers, tugging gently. “These are cute.” He licks his lips, making them pink and glossy, like he’s ready to eat you. “I’d like them better somewhere else though.”
“Jungkook…”
And then he's kissing you. 
It’s soft, like he’s afraid to scare you away by putting too much pressure into it. Little does he know you’ve been thinking about this for a while.
All your protesting and fighting up until this point was futile. Your hands unconsciously make their way to his cheeks. You swear you feel him smirking. It’s like he can read your mind, knowing exactly how bad you’ve wanted this.
He prods his tongue against your bottom lip, urging you to let him in. You do. He wraps an arm around your waist and guides you down, hovering over you.
“You taste like candy,” he whispers against your lips, hot and needy. Take that, Mina. A sneaky hand cups you through your shorts, right where he knows your clit is. The thin material does nothing to conceal how wet you are. “Do you taste like candy here too? Can I try?”
You’re anxious, but you can’t stop. Not when he’s so enticing. Not when the rumors of his sexual prowess are swimming around in your mind. Jungkook could ask anything of you and you’d gladly obey. You give him a small nod. 
“Don’t be nervous,” he teases through an airy laugh, breath fanning across your face. It smells like chocolate and syrup. He turns his head and presses a gentle kiss on your fingertips. You swoon.
Hooking his thumbs into the sides of your shorts, he pulls them below your butt. He dips his head down, biting into the side of your thigh. A predator sinking its teeth into its prey. Not hard enough to hurt. It’s just enough to rip a whine from you. “Fuck,” he grumbles, pulling your shorts completely off. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.”
He’s been wanting this, too?
“Let’s leave these on though,” he sighs, speaking in reference to your socks. It was something you knew he found sexy, overhearing a graphic conversation with Taehyung about kinks and other filthy things. That may or may not have been the motivation behind your purchase.
You cringe. Being naked in front of someone for the first time in a long time was nerve-wracking. 
“No panties?” Jungkook asks, looking at you quizzically. “Dressed so skimpy, Bambi. All for me?”
“I didn’t know you were gonna show up...”
“Oh shit, you’re right,” he chuckles, caressing your legs with his large thumbs. You appreciate the gesture. 
Cool air brushes against your exposed core when he parts your thighs. His gaze locks onto your dripping center. You whine and cross your arms over your face. Maybe if you squeeze hard enough you’ll revert back into yourself and escape this dreadfully vulnerable feeling.
“I’m sorry, it’s just…” he starts, words dying out because his attention is elsewhere. Jungkook has seen a lot of pussy throughout his life, but yours has got to be the, “prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. So fucking wet.” He settles back onto his knees, hooking his limbs around your thighs and pulling you to the edge of the bed. 
Jungkook watches in awe as he spreads your lips open with his thumb and index fingers, stealing a peek at your shiny center. He takes a long, languid lick from your pussy to your clit. He moans when the wet muscle dips between your folds, eyes scrunching as his feature contorts into a scowl. You recognize that face. That angry face he makes when he tastes something he finds incredibly yummy. It’s the same one he made when he ate his pancakes. 
Have you really studied him so much that you’ve picked up on his subtle habits? Nevertheless, the fact that he actually seemed to be enjoying going down on you was jarring. You’ve never experienced this before. It felt so fucking good. You were already close and he has barely touched you. You let out a whimper.
“Mm, you’re so responsive,” he notes, absolutely loving the little sounds you’re peeping. Much different than the blaring moans and screams he is used to. Despite the ego boost they give him, your shy whimpers are a welcomed change. Each one makes his cock twitch, forcing him to bring a hand down, palming himself through his sweats. “When’s the last time someone ate you out?”
“Never…”
“I don’t see why not,” he coos sympathetically, shaking his head in disapproval. He gives you another lick, tongue pressed flat against you. “You taste like lemonade, so sweet.” 
That had you absolutely drenched.
You move up onto your elbows, watching as he throws your legs over his broad shoulders. He licks the pad of his thumb, this time actually sinful. He presses it right to your bud, rubbing it before pulling the sensitive skin taut, lifting the hood and exposing your clit. 
He tuts his tongue, whispering something so quietly you barely catch it, only making out a breathy iteration of the word ‘tiny’. Heavy eyes flicker up to yours as he places two soft pecks on it, then blows delicately.
“Jungkook, please…”
“Sorry,” he chuckles, “I won’t tease-,” sentiment interrupted with an open-mouthed kiss, “I know how bad you must want it.” 
He circles the tip of his tongue on your clit before suctioning his lips around it. You gnaw onto your lower lip, face twisting up in pleasure.
This is easily a far better form of self care than what you had planned. 
It’s obvious that this is something Jungkook does a lot. He is a photography major, and has never struck you as someone who is incredibly bright, but the way he touched is strategic. He has spent the better part of the past decade perfecting his craft, studying the way women move their bodies when he applies a certain amount of pressure. The beautiful noises they make when he stimulates them in certain spots. He has the exact equation to make you fall apart.
There is a pattern to it. He latches onto your swollen nub, cheeks hollowing with a few harsh sucks, before licking over it, letting his tongue dip into your entrance. You can’t help the subtle thrusts into his mouth with every glide of his tongue. The consistency had your stomach doing somersaults.
He sinks further down, lapping at your folds, never straying too far from your clit, burying himself so deep into your pussy that the tip of his nose nudges against it. A big palm slides up your torso, reaching under your tank top to grab at your chest, thumb flicking over your hardened nipple.
“Jung- fuck!” You croak, high-pitched and desperate. “I’m close.”
You expect him to pull away. He, instead, acknowledges you with an ‘mhm’, nuzzling even further into your cunt. 
You can’t help the instinctual, or more so learned, shame bubbling in your stomach. Your hips jerk away. Legs close tight around his head, attempting to save him from the brunt of your orgasm. He simply pries them back open, nails digging into your inner thigh. You grasp onto his hair, tugging it back as you curse under your breath.
He doesn’t like that.
He pops off of your clit with a sharp, annoyed growl. “Can you stop?” The stern edge in his voice makes you flinch, releasing your grip immediately. “You don’t have to control every situation. Just relax.” 
“I’m sorry,” you squeak.
His gaze softens immediately. He didn’t want you to apologize and he definitely didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. “You can touch me, Bambi,” he grabs your hands and places them back on his head, encouraging them to tangle in his tresses once again. “Keep me here, though. Wanna make you cum in my mouth.”
It’s strange, being pampered during sex. Taken care of. 
You peer down at him. His mouth and cheeks are dewy, covered in your arousal. Even the tip of his nose is wet. He’s not uncomfortable in the slightest. 
You push him down, giving him the green light to continue. The descent is quick. Starting in your stomach before it shoots through the rest of your body. You throw your head back, teeth digging into your lip as you desperately try to stifle the lewd moans threatening to escape.
Jungkook guides you through it, slowing down towards the tail end of your orgasm. He pulls away with a satisfied hum, standing up from his spot on the floor. “Taste?” He asks, squishing your cheeks with his big hand. His tongue licks right against yours when you stick it out, lips closing into a sloppy kiss. “Good, right?”
You don’t really taste anything, but you nod anyway. Maybe a slight hint of citrus. Or maybe you were delirious after the best orgasm of your life. The only partnered orgasm of your life.
His eyes are scrunched, but you can still see the stars in his dark pupils as he smiles down at you. You mirror him with the opposite expression, irises wide and blown out. He giggles, nuzzling into the side of your face and then nipping at your cheek. “You’re like a space girl,” your heart melts at the Sailor Moon reference. “So clueless. I wanna do everything to you. Teach you everything.”
“Like what?” 
“Have you ever squirted before?” 
You freeze. “No… I don’t think everyone can.”
“That’s not true. Everyone can squirt with a good partner and the right mindset,” he proclaims enthusiastically, shooting you a thumbs up. The tent in his pants on full display.
“Right mindset?” You giggle, raising a brow at him. 
“Yeah, it’s pretty intense.” He grabs a half-empty water bottle, your water bottle, off the nightstand, taking a big sip. “I can get you there,” he states, a droplet of water dripping down his chin. “You have to listen to me, though. You can continue your ‘girlboss’ bullshit after I’m done with you.”
You roll your eyes. If any other man said that to you, you would be livid. You would literally rain hellfire upon them. But it’s Jungkook. You know he’s joking, and the soft spot you have for him prevents you from ripping him a new one. 
He smiles when you agree, pecking your cheek before unzipping his hoodie and shrugging it off his shoulders. You watch his muscles work. Toned, firm biceps exposed for your viewing pleasures. He recently recolored the tattoos on his right arm. 
You remember him venting about his parents’ disapproval of them, and his major, when he walked you to your dorm after a party a few weeks ago. It was the only time you’ve ever seen the fun-loving, jovial man feel melancholic. You coin that night the night you developed... whatever it was that you have for him now.
“Alright,” he gestures to the cotton sweater, now spread out on your bed. “Lay here.”
“Why?”
“I mean…” he looks at you like you’re stupid. “You don’t want to get this wet, right?” He counters, pinching your blanket.
Cockiness just oozes out of him. It makes wetness ooze out of you. 
You comply, laying down on the soft material. It’s warm and smells like the delicate linen cologne he normally wears. You bask in the scent.
“I usually use lube for this, but…” he clicks his tongue, knowing you don’t have any. “We can make it work.” Leaning down, he lets a string of spit land on your clit. It tickles as it trickles down your folds. He’s quick to collect it with his fingertips, smearing the moisture all over.
“Take your top off, please. I wanna see those pretty tits.”
It’s barely a top. The jagged, raw hem only conceals half of your perked nipples. How ironic is it that you’re wearing an angel print tank while being absolutely defiled. You sit up, taking it off easily and tossing it on the floor before laying back down. 
“It’s not going to hurt, is it?” You wonder, reflecting on his earlier statements.
“Why, you nervous?” He teases with a lopsided grin. It drops when he sees the apprehensive look on your face. “It shouldn’t hurt, but if it does you’ll tell me, right?”
“Right,” you moan, another drop of saliva hitting your pussy. 
“Hold your legs up, keep them open,” he orders, sucking back the extra spit with a hiss.
Pink nails curl under your thighs, bringing them up to your chest just as Jungkook instructed. He pops his middle and ring fingers into his mouth, bringing them down to tease at your entrance before slipping in, palm facing up.
There’s an adjustment period, his fingers being much bigger than your own. You’re so aroused that the tenderness subsides quickly. “Fuck,” you yelp when he starts gently petting at your g-spot.
He doesn’t jam his fingers into you carelessly, an unpleasant sensation you’ve been subjected to in the past. His digits never leave you. Instead, they move in a sensual curl that makes you purr. Every touch is focused, intricately placed on that delicious spot.
“Pussy so wet,” his voice comes out as strained as his pants. He sounds so turned on and filled with lust. It makes you clamp around his fingers. He lets out the tiniest moan, using his free hand to grab yours, sucking three fingers into his mouth. “Touch your clit for me.”
You bring your hand down, rubbing side to side. “Uh-uh, circles.” 
Immediately, you follow his command. You look so delicious he can’t help himself, bending at the waist to latch onto one of your nipples.
“Please, Jungkook, more…”
“Yeah?” He mumbles against your chest, sending vibrations through the sensitive skin. You nod frantically. “I usually don’t give in this easily, but I think you deserve it. Been such a good girl. You can have more, Bambi.” You know it’s just sex talk. A stream of consciousness fueled by his horniness. All the blood leaving his head to fill his cock, making him more dumb than usual, but you can’t help but feel special. 
“It’s going to build up fast, okay?”
You mumble a small ‘mhm’. How bad can it really be?
Jungkook starts moving his hand rapidly, fingers thrashing up and down. There's so much force behind his movements that your hips lift and dip. 
You’re overwhelmed. Constant, vigorous stimulation right to your g-spot. A strange swelling feeling starts pooling in your lower stomach. High-pitched whimpery moans and wet squelching noises fill the room.
“J- daddy, fuck!” It is so intense you can’t form a coherent sentence. There’s faint laughter in the background. “No, no, no…” you plead, wrapping your hand around his wrist, nails digging into his skin. It’s too good. So good that it made you scared.
His movements halt. “Am I hurting you?”
“No, too much… fuck!” You shout when he continues at the same intensity, your body thrashing wildly. You feel out of control.
“Shh,” he whispers softly. “You can take it. Just let it happen.”
You inhale sharply, doing your best to calm down. It’s difficult when he keeps touching you like that. Your fingers curl into his sweater, bracing yourself. As soon as you stop fighting that full feeling, as soon as you loosen the tense muscles, it’s going to hit you.
You relax and a wave of the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt ripples over you.
There’s an intense, world-shattering, euphoric release.
And then nothing. 
Your head is empty. Your ears ring. Your vision is distorted by white splotches. 
Complete solace.
Your senses come back after a few minutes of heavy breathing. It’s fuzzy, but you can see the ceiling fan swirling above you.
There’s a metallic taste on your tongue. 
You can feel droplets trickling down your inner thighs, a damp puddle under your butt, and a warm set of lips on your temple.
“Welcome back to planet Earth,” Jungkook jokes, pushing away the wispy flyaways that stick to your forehead. You blink absently as you slowly make out his features. You swear there’s a glowing aura around him. “You good?” 
“So good,” you confirm halfheartedly. “You’re so good.”
“You came so much,” he hums in satisfaction, placing a few pecks against your jaw. Jungkook was actually surprised at how much wetness he coaxed out of you. You just kept on cumming. The prettiest waterfall he’s ever seen. Damp fingers brush up and down your bicep, a comforting gesture. “You called me daddy.”
“Shut up,” you groan, covering your face. “Don’t talk about it.”
“I won’t, it was fucking gross,” he laughs, smiling down at you so genuinely that it reaches his eyes. This was just a hookup, you assume, but he’s just so pretty. You can’t stop yourself from pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. He reciprocates. It feels so intimate. Too intimate for a pair of friends. You’re so tired but you want more. Everything.
“Take this off, please,” you ball the white fabric of his shirt into your tiny fists, mimicking his words from earlier. “Let me see those pretty tits.”
He quirks a brow at you, standing up straight and pulling his shirt off by the collar. It’s discarded onto the floor, with all the other useless, bothersome items.
His tits are pretty. Chest flushed red from exertion, nipples spiked and tiny. His body is fit, but not overly muscular. Lean and toned. Just what you like.
You snake your legs around his cinched waist, constricting his pelvis flush against yours. 
“Is it my turn now?” He says, loving your sudden burst of confidence. His jaw goes slack when you start grinding on his clothed cock. There’s a slick spot where your bodies meet, heather gray turning dark as the fabric dampens. Jungkook lets you play with him for a bit, rutting against you until he physically cannot stand it anymore. “I’ve never wanted to fuck someone so bad.”
“Then do it,” you whimper, growing impatient. He sighs, hand coming down to fiddle with the sweater underneath you. You crane your neck, watching curiously as he pulls a square packet out of the pocket. 
There’s a sharp pain in your chest when you see it. “Did you plan on us hooking up?”
“Maybe,” he contends playfully. All the amusement in his face disappears when he flicks his bangs back and sees yours. Hurt and disappointed. “I always keep condoms on me, you know that,” he explains, voice soft and wary. 
It makes sense. He was sexually active. Very much so.
That scares you. You could possibly be just another girl he’s sexually active with. A last ditch effort to get laid because the first option bailed. The puzzle pieces start coming together.
You look him in the eyes. His pupils are brown again. They look pleading, concerned for your wellbeing. Afraid they’ve tarnished something so delicate. You can’t tell if it’s just your delusions, post-orgasm bliss. All you know is you never want him to stop looking at you the way he is right now.
“Can I put it on?” You ask, pointing at the condom in his hand, desperate to break the tension.
“I- sure,” he retorts, exhaling deeply like he was holding his breath, relieved. He gives it to you, using his other hand to pull his pants by the waistband, stopping mid-thigh. Too rushed and eager to take them off completely. 
He didn’t have underwear on either.
You squint, trying to read the white font on the packet. Large.
You glance up, eyes bulging out of your skull when they land on his cock. It’s big. So aroused that it points straight up, resting on his abdomen. The tip is bright pink, standing out against the background of his smooth milky pelvis. It’s shiny with precum, a little bead sitting right at the slight. Your gaze trails up the veiny underside, following the acute upward curve. You gulp.
“You good?”
“Yeah,” you say, jittery hands tearing open the foil packet. You cautiously wrap your hand around the shaft. It’s so firm. Rock solid and touch starved. It jumps in your palm as you slip the sticky rubber down, making sure to stroke him along the way. “Big, thas’ all.”
He nods, the corner of his lips pulling up in a smirk. He can tell your words are equally as worried as they are complimentative, though. “I’ll be gentle,” he promises, holding on to your ankle to lift your leg, kissing it through your white sock. Gaze locked on you, making sure you’re watching and that you know he can be soft with you.
He bends both of your knees up to your chest, tapping your outer thigh, indicating he wants you to hold them again. Tattooed knuckles wrap around the base of his cock, laying it flat against your pelvis. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath when he sees the tip reaches just below your belly button, knowing exactly what to envision when he’s inside you. His cock so deep it’s in your stomach.
He smacks the shaft between your folds. Filthy, wet slapping noises overpower your coos and purrs. The tip tickles your entrance, rubbing up and down your folds, before he brings it to your abused clit again, flicking it up and down like a light switch. Watching your face intently to gauge your reaction, looking for any prick of discomfort. 
“Put it in,” you frown, growing impatient.
“So needy,” Jungkook teases, gripping his cock right under the crown and pushing in. Only the tip. He uses his fingers as a buffer, trying not to give too much too fast. Pulling back agonizingly slow and then diving back in, giving you a little bit more length this time. It was only an inch or so, but the stretch burned. You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, trying to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill.
He repeats this process, working you open little by little until he’s buried to the hilt. He lets out a pained grunt, overwhelmed by the way your warm wet walls just suffocate him. “Fuck, tightest pussy ever.”
You clench your eyes shut, trying to ease the feeling of getting impaled. Jungkook is so big. The veins that run along his shaft, the thickness, the curve. He leans down and pecks your nose sweetly. His thumb, rubbing tight circles against your clit, provides a decent distraction. You focus on the pleasure instead of the pain.
“Feel okay, Bambi?” He coos, feeling you relax under him. “Can I move?”
With furrowed brows, he pulls out a few inches before thrusting back in slowly. Heavy eyes glued on the way your lips petal around him when he gives you more. The way they resist when takes his cock away. “Good girl,” he praises, voice raspy as he tries his best to maintain a slow, shallow pace. “You take it so well.”
Any pang of discomfort is gone. He prepped you so well that there’s no friction, just seamless glides in and out of your leaking cunt. The upturned tip of his cock tickles that sweet spot in you. You moan, digging your almond-shaped nails into your thighs, arching your back for more.
Jungkook sees your body language. He knows what to do in this situation. One of the most useful sex tips he’s ever learned. He leans forward, pressing his chest against yours, swollen lips latching onto your neck. They suck a sore spot that his tongue quickly soothes over. “Hold on to me,” he commands, wet pout smushed to your skin. 
You let go of your thighs, leaving little crescent indents on the surface, and throw your arms around his shoulders. Hooking your knees into the bend of his elbows, Jungkook hoists you up effortlessly, supporting your weight with his large palms on your ass. The change in position spreads you even further, slides him in even deeper.
“Mmm, f-,” you moan, words cut short when he starts bouncing you up and down on his cock.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
“Mmm, I knew it,” he chuckles sadistically, right into your ear. “I knew you were just waiting to be ruined. So fucking high-strung and- fuck!” He can feel your arousal dripping down to his balls. “Controlling.”
Arguing is pointless. You swear he's in your head, the tip of his cock scrambling your brain around so that you can’t even think straight. All you can think about is him.
You cling to him, resting your cheek against his shoulder as he lifts you in the air. Letting him have his way with you. You’re never felt more alive. 
‘Orgasms are the pinnacle of the human experience,’ you recall Jungkook telling you one day at the library. At the time, you rolled your eyes. Now, you know exactly what he meant. 
“You just needed some dick, huh? My dick?” You nod, drooling against his skin. “Doesn’t it feel good to let go?” All you can get out is a little moan.
A glint flickers in the corner of your eye. Mina’s mirror. It’s leaning against the wall right in front of you. You can see the expanse of his back. The taut skin on his shoulder blades. Biceps bulging as he moves you. His pants slid down to his knees, so you can see his cute butt dimpling when he thrusts up. Muscles working to make you cum.
“Okay,” he huffs, more to himself than you. Your pussy was so good that it derailed his original plan. Jungkook tosses you up a little, getting a more secure hold as he wraps an arm around your waist. The motion makes his cock slip out, the loss of contact makes you whine.
His free hand tosses his soiled hoodie out of the way. You cringe, making a mental note to mop tomorrow morning.
He places one of your fancy, cooling-gel pillows on the edge of the bed, laying you down on top of it. Your hips are elevated, tilted upwards. Giving him a clear view of your glowy core. He catches a glimpse of the only place he hasn’t destroyed.
“What about this?” He coos, pressing the pad of his thumb right against your clenching hole.
You squeak, shaking your head. Baby steps.
“Alright,” he chuckles, hand retreating promptly. “Maybe next time.”
He wants to do this again. Your heart flutters.
You watch as he guides himself back in, stuffing you to the brim in one swift motion. Much less cautious than earlier. His cock hits your g-spot perfectly. The pillow and his curve doing wonders. Your eyes roll back as your head hits the bed. “Like that, right?” He laughs, snapping into you. 
“Yeah, Jungkook,” you moan out, gripping your ankles and bringing them up by your head, just how he likes. “Don’t stop.”
He could’ve busted right then and there. 
“Fuck, keep saying my name,” he groans, eyes glancing up to your perky tits, jiggling freely with every snap of his hips. His pupils sneak down further, watching his cock plow into your tight, wet cunt, leaving it dewy.
You call his name like a metronome, ‘Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook’. Voice airy, following the rhythm of his hips. It makes him move harder and faster, feeling that familiar pooling at the base of his shaft.
Just like everything about him, his strokes are fluid. His hips aren’t locked and stiff. They move in a dip and roll that makes your toes curl. His pelvis mushes against your clit when he thrusts all the way in, balls smacking against the curve of your ass. It feels delicious. Your third orgasm of the night is approaching fast.
“You cumming, Bambi?” He hums, already recognizing the way your thick brows pull together when you're close. The way your hips rut a little, naturally guiding you to your orgasm.
“Mhm, make me cum Jungkook,” you mewl.
He hovers over you, placing his hands on top of yours, bending your legs back farther. Taking long, violent plunges into you. So close to a piledriver. He’s basically fucking you into the mattress, bed frame cracking against the wall beside it. One of your vine garlands falls down, but you’re so close you can’t even bring yourself to care. 
Your climaxes blend together. You first, clenching and unclenching around his length. Moans coming out sporadic and your shoulders off the bed. Legs trembling in his hands.
His orgasm is stunning. 
“Ah- fuck. I’m cumming,” he croaks through snarled teeth, head dropping to watch where you connect. Something he does often, you notice. He doesn’t stop, even after he spills into the condom, fucking you until he’s completely drained. You whimper, sensitive from the overstimulation. 
“Damn,” Jungkook huffs out a laugh, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. You fist the wavy strands at the back of his head, a little damp. 
“Thank you,” you speak shyly.
“I know you’re new to this,” he lifts up and looks at you quizzically, amusement tickling his features, “But that’s kinda a weird thing to say after someone fucks you.”
You laugh with him, eyes darting over his face. He has a small scar on his cheek, something you’ve never noticed before. 
“No, I just mean-” you cringe when he pulls out of you, feeling empty. “You’re the only guy who’s ever… I don’t know. You’re just different.”
He smiles with twinkling eyes, tying a knot at the end of the condom and tossing it into the pink trash can beside your nightstand. “You’re different, too,” he mirrors, plopping down onto the bed next to you. “Special.”
Special.
You sigh into his lips when he gives you a soft peck, thumb brushing against the newfound mark of his face. “I’m sorry that I made you do all the work.”
“Nah, don’t worry. Making you feel good makes me feel good.” His words are sweet but there’s a naughty glint in his eyes. “Besides, you can think of this as a practice round.”
“Practice round?”
He hums in conformation, tapping your ass lightly, making it ripple against his hand. “Alright, go take a leak before you get a UTI.” He laughs when you push his shoulder. The same old blunt, shameless Jungkook.
He stops you before you disappear into the bathroom. “I hope this won’t make things awkward between us. Like, we’re still friends, right?”
Friends.
It takes all of your strength to give him a nod. You ponder over his words as you clean up in the bathroom. Why did you feel so... conflicted? You’re so happy, but you’re also kinda sad. It’s like your mood solely depends on Jungkook. His words have the power to pull you in whatever direction he pleases. You stare at yourself in the mirror.
All these emotions must mean you have a crush on him.
You sigh, flicking off the light and then heading back into your room.
Jungkook is hunkered down in your sea of pillows, soft snores leaving his parted lips. Chest rising and falling steadily. Hair messy, fanned around him.
He looks so beautiful and peaceful.
You tilt your head at the sight. He always told you that he never spends the night after a hookup.
The blanket is only covering his pelvis, strong legs poking out from underneath. His sweats are still on his ankles. You giggle, attempting to slide them off without waking him.
“Bambi,” he mutters sleepily, opening his big arms. “C’mere.”
You feel your cheeks heat up. You shuffle into bed, throwing the covers over both of your bare bodies. 
He wraps his arms around you, pecking your forehead before drifting back into slumber.
Fuck.
What have you gotten yourself into?
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© chryblossomjjk 2022 [do not copy, translate or repost]
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shawtuzi · 10 months
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i’m still deciding whether i want to write for ellie or abby in my next tlou fic but until then pls enjoy these construction worker!eren hc’s bc i am sooo thirsty for him
cw include: black fem!reader, lots of fluff, lots of smut, eren being the cutest thing ever
sfw
construction worker!eren whose only dream in this life is to have a pretty wife with a litter of kids and a big ass house to go with it. he’s already slipped a gorgeous fat rock on your finger and talks of getting pregnant with your first child were slowly but surely happening which meant he was getting closer and closer to what he truly wanted most.
construction worker!eren who is a total mommas boy!! his mom is so very dear to him and to know she adores you just as much as him makes him so so happy.
construction worker!eren who looks so cute in his everyday work outfit. whenever he’s got his hard hat on around you you can’t help but knock on it a few times but it’s okay he thinks it’s super cute.
construction worker!eren who starts his day a six-thirty every morning and is always home by five o’clock on the dot. his morning routine consists of giving your forehead and lips a sweet good morning kiss as soon as his eyes open, a quick fifteen minute shower with music softly playing in the back (usually the trapsoul album by bryson tiller), making a big ass pot of coffee bc lord knows he’ll need it with the airheads he works with, quadruple checking to make sure there’s food in the fridge and pantry for you, another sweet kiss to your lips before he heads out, and then spending five minutes trying to pry you off of him while you beg him to take the day off. “m’sorry sugarplum i cant take off today, gotta save up for that big house we want you know how it is,” he’d always say before shushing your whines with a kiss full of tongue n passion.
construction worker!eren who is so tired and sore when he gets off work but is never too sore to accept one of your bone crushing hugs as soon as he walks through the door to your shared apartment. he’s always extra careful to make sure his hands that are usually covered in residue don’t touch your clothes even though you could literally care less.
construction worker!eren who facetimes you everyday around the same time to enjoy your company while he’s on his lunch break. usually the conversations consists of you telling him to make sure he’s applying a lot of sunscreen (bc this heat was nothing to play about), your plans for what you were making for dinner, and if anyone happened to piss him off that day you’ll surely hear about it.
“how’s your lunch?” you asked giving eren a loving smile as you watched him practically devour the leftover lasagna from last nights dinner. he wiped his mouth with a napkin before speaking, a content smile on his lips. “food is perfect honey tastes just as good as it did last night,” you smiled at his words but it faltered just the slightest bit when you saw how reddish pink his cheeks were. “baby have you put on any sunscreen yet? weather app says it’s supposed to be almost a hundred out today,” you pouted wishing so desperately that he was there so you could give his little sunburns kisses. eren observed his face in the tiny box on the corner of his phone, letting out a small hum. “don’t worry about me sugar i’ll put some on before we get off the phone,” he gave you a comforting smile which you returned. you folded your freshly manicured hands together before speaking, “so…for dinner i was thinking steak kabobs?” “now we’re fuckin’ talking”
construction worker!eren whose nicknames for you are sugar, sugarplum, honey, angel, and my honeysuckle (which is a type of flower heje)
construction worker!eren whose stomach is almost as big as his heart lol this man loves him a good home cooked meal!!! he doesn’t know what he did to deserve a wife who feeds him as good as you do but you best believe he thanks his lucky stars everyday for it. and yes he’s fs the kind of man to completely devour his food in record time meanwhile you’ve barely made a dent in yours, this usually leads to you splitting the rest of yours with him bc this man always has room to eat more food.
you had decided to make steaks for dinner and like usual eren had devoured his plate in less than ten minutes. “was it good my love?” you giggled taking a bite of the roasted potatoes you made as side. bc he had a full mouth all eren was able to get out was a satisfied sounding ‘mhm!’ eren had washed his dishes and put them away before making his way back to the table to keep you company while you continued to eat your food, love and adoration swarming in those jade irises of his. without a word you swiftly got out of your chair and got comfy on his lap. eren didn’t say a word but by the way he was looking at your plate you could tell he was dying for another bite. you cut off a piece of steak and held the fork up to his lips with a smile, “go ahead take a bite i know you wanna.” without a second thought eren took a bite and for the rest of dinner you took turns feeding him and yourself.
construction worker!eren who becomes even more attentive and loving than he already is once you’re finally pregnant!!! you have morning sickness?? he’s right behind you rubbing your back and even offers to brush your teeth for you after you’ve finished. you need your feet rubbed?? prop them up and he’ll get straight to work. he even takes more days off work than usual bc he misses your touch just as much as you miss his. ever since he found out there was a little him growing in you he frequently started talking to your belly.
construction worker!eren is a girl dad no ifs, ands, or buts!!!!! crazy story but he had the strongest feeling you were having a girl and low and behold on the day of your gender reveal you found out you were having a girl!! yes he cried like a baby himself and yes connie has it on video.
construction worker!eren who treats your daughter like she’s the finest china when she’s finally born :( the first time he did skin to skin contact with her he swore his heart was gonna explode with how much love his had for the tiny human in his arms. and once she was sound asleep in her lil bed he was quick to leave the hospital to buy you whatever foods you were craving—you deserved the best princess treatment for bringing his lil princess into the world.
construction worker!eren who keeps a polaroid pic of you, him, and your newborn daughter in his worn out wallet, showing it to everyone at his job…and a couple strangers….he rlly can’t help it you two are his pride and joy <333
“hey reiner did i ever show you this picture?” eren beamed holding up the polaroid in reiner’s face for the third time that day. reiner chuckled a bit before nodding, “yes eren you showed me, she’s a cute one you and y/n are lucky,” he smiled and eren nodded in agreement, still staring down at the picture. “yeah…m’the luckiest guy in the world aren’t i?”
nsfw
construction worker!eren who is six foot six and pure muscle. it’s a wonder how he eats so good and manages to look even better but hey! you weren’t complaining. he certainly was lacking down there either baby he’s the full package. his dicks eight and a half inches with two prominent veins on the underside that rubbed against your sensitive walls in the most delicious way possible.
construction worker!eren who has a raging breeding kink but is that really a surprise? whenever you two fuck and he’s able to rlly take his time with you i kid you not he has to cum inside you at least three times or he will not be satisfied. sometimes whenever he pulls out he’ll push down on your lower belly and watch his cum spill out with dark, predatory eyes. majority of the time he’ll use that as an excuse to fill you up for the umpteenth time bc he just cannot let any of his precious cum go to waste.
“so pretty,” eren had a lazy smile on his face as he watched three orgasms worth of cum ooze out of your puffy, spent pussy. just when you thought he had his fill and was ready for a much needed good nights rest you felt his one softening dick begin to harden up against your still trembling thighs. “eren…” you whimpered, but he just shushed you with a kiss mumbling a quick ‘jus one more’ before slipping back inside you with ease. he was extremely low on energy so he wasn’t quite able to fuck into you like a madman like he was before so he just settled for grinding into you. “o-oh honey! f-fuck!” you squealed wrapping your legs around his waist. between his swollen tip continuously bumping into your stomach, and the coarse hairs on his pelvis rubbing against your sensitive clit you were slowly but surely going dumb. “yeah jus’ like that, f-fuck yeah let daddy fuck a baby into you baby c’mon make me cum.”
construction worker!eren who is nawt a fan of quickies at all!! he’s a man that likes to savor the moment when it comes to sex and if he’s able to admire the faces and sounds you make then what’s the point?? when he’s got you all to himself expect to be occupied for the next couple of hours bc like i stated before he’s not satisfied until he’s cum in you at least three times and made you cum twice as much!!
construction worker!eren who is a certified MUNCH!!!! this man loves having his mouth on your pussy and yes if ur wondering he definitely eats it through your panties. he’s so sloppy and loud with it you’d almost be embarrassed if he didn’t completely turn you dumb whenever he tongue fucked your weeping pussy :(
“mm renny,” your brows scrunched together in pleasure as eren sloppily ran his tongue up and down your soaked folds. his hair was still damp from his shower and was slowly soaking the couch from the droplets falling from his locs but neither of you seemed to care. “couldn’t stop thinking about you today…i mean i already think of you all day but i kept thinking about you in that way and fuck it was so hard to focus. reiner almost ripped my head off from how distracted i was,” as he was talking he was pressing sloppy, wet kisses all over your cunt and the inside of your thighs. he inserted two fingers easily into your dripping center and couldn’t help the groan that rumbled in his chest when he saw how tight you were squeezing his fingers. “you got the prettiest pussy honey, you know that right?” he gave you a small smile before spitting directly on your clit making you jolt. you whined in embarrassment ofc and covered your face with a near throw pillow, whimpering out a pathetic ‘stop ren s’embarrasing.’ eren just hummed and attached his mouth back to your pussy, wrapping his slightly swollen lips around your throbbing clit, “m’never gonna fuckin stop my pretty little honeysuckle never ever.”
construction worker!eren who is a biggg fan of the 69 position. sometimes you suck him so good he tends to lose focus but you don’t mind in the slightest. your big strong man never stops working whether he’s on or off the clock so if he gets a little consumed in his own pleasure who are you to snap him out of it?? if you’re putting some serious work in he’ll moan n groan so loud into your pussy you could cum alone just from that!!
construction worker!eren who had the prettiest moans *sighs dreamily* he’s never shy to let you know you’re making him feel good and it’s so fucking hot hearing his breathy whines and moans especially when he accidentally overstimulates himself which he happens to do a lot heh. you’ve definitely had a couple complaints from neighbors bc of the noise but he don’t even give a fuck!! he knows it turns you on more than anything to hear him be so vocal so why on earth would he ever stop??
construction worker!eren who was soo nervous when you suggested having sex while you were pregnant. it was no problem for him at first but once you started showing that’s when the panic started to settle in—he was so afraid he’d accidentally hurt you or the baby that he kinda went on an sex hiatus much to your dismay, but after some convincing be finally gave in.
you were on your side and he was spooning you from behind, giving your shoulder or neck a kiss of encouragement every once in a while. “jus’ let me know if it hurts at all or you’re uncomfortable okay? cant believe you talked me into this…” eren mumbled into your shoulder. you replied with a soft ‘mhm’ your patience wearing thinner by the second. it had been a good couple of weeks since you and eren last had sex and you were almost sure you were beginning to lose your mind. you’d finally had enough when he came home from his morning jog looking like an absolute dream with his chest heaving and brown baby hairs sticking to his forehead. that’s how he ended up here: one hand securely holding onto your small bump while his other was slowly pushing his dick inside your awaiting entrance. “oh wow…” your eyes fluttered shut in pure bliss, toes curling once he bottomed out. “f-fuck that feel okay hun?” it felt more than okay. you brought your hand to your clit and began rubbing quick circles to dull out the stinging stretch. eren peeped this and replaced yours with his own, the rough pads of his fingers on your clit had your lips trembling. “y-you need to stop this—hah! sex strike and fuck me more please i—i miss this,” eren heard your plea and nodded feverishly. god was he a fool for ever depriving yourselves of each other, he will never be doing this again.
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23victoria · 2 days
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Eros
lewis hamilton x fem!reader smau
faceclaims: h.e.r and other girls from pinterest
album is yoncé by beyonce (a masterpiece imo)
warnings: cussing, sexual innuendos
authors note: this is my first smau! any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!! also sorry for any blurriness, tumblr ruined the quality 🫤
𝚏𝟷 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝
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y/n_ig
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liked by lewishamilton, charlesleclerc, oscarpiastri and 6,987,326 others
my album “Eros” is out now!!! I am so proud of this piece of art work and I hope you enjoy!! 🤭😉✨
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standy/n4life omg!!! it’s here i’m so ready!!
↳ y/n_ig are you???
↳ livelaughlovey/n what do you mean by that?!?! hello?!?!
lewishamilton i’m so proud of you baby! they not ready! 🫶🏾
↳ y/n_ig thank you baby! 😘
bffusername literally my favorite album!!
↳ y/n_ig you say that for all my albums?! 💀
↳ bffusername girl shhhh! you’re ruining it 😔
charlesleclerc congrats y/n! i can’t wait to listen!
marrymey/n just dropped everything to go listen!!
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y/n_ig
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liked by lewishamilton, beyoncé, charlesleclerc, oscarpiastri and 4,287,326 others
wow, #1 globally and in the states. i literally had a week to write something but i honestly can’t tell you how im feeling rn! i’m utterly speechless and forever grateful 🥹❤️ thank you guys for all the love, your amazing!!
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username1 flawless and 7/11 have been on replay everyday!!
lewishamilton i expected nothing less from the most beautiful woman to ever exist. beyond proud of you my love ♥️
↳ y/n_ig i love you 🥹♥️
oscarpiastri_ congrats y/n! you deserve this!
↳ y/n_ig thank you osc!
marrymey/n the album is an absolute masterpiece!! rocket and pretty hurts?!?? it hit me right in the feels 🥲
beyoncé congrats honey ❤️
↳ y/n_ig thank you queen! ❤️
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y/n_ig and lewishamilton
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liked by charlesleclerc, landonorris, beyoncé, oscarpiastri and 9,997,826 others
“Hell yeah, you the shit, that's why you're my equivalent ”
5.24.23 💍
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username6 holy fuck they’re married!! omg! 😵‍💫
standy/n4life lol she said stfu thats my man. congrats y/n!!
charlesleclerc finally! this was such a trouble to keep secret! congrats again guys, the wedding was beautiful! liked by y/n_ig
username1 not the lyrics from rocket 💀
username6 she’s letting us know what they did on they wedding day, wouldn’t be surprised if that song is based off that day 😭
↳ y/n_ig it is 😉
bffusername my girl is a wifeee 🤭
lewishamilton love you forever and always ♾️
↳ y/n_ig till my last breath my love ♾️
beyoncé truly such a beautiful ceremony ❤️ god bless you beautiful 🥰
↳ y/n_ig thank you 🤧
marrymey/n no it was supposed to be meee 🧎🏾‍♀️🥲
↳ lewishamilton i’m sorry?
↳ marrymey/n no your not 😔
↳ lewishamilton yea i’m not 🫶🏾
livelaughlovey/n um girly, is that a mistake in the date?!?
↳ y/n_ig no 🤭
↳ lewishamilton no 🫶🏾
↳ livelaughlovey/n replied to y/n_ig & lewishamilton ALMOST A YEAR?!?!
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© 23victoria 2024 I all rights reserved. do not republish, steal repost, modify, translate, or claim my work as your own.
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peachypinkygloss · 8 months
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high on love — pjm
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Jimin has once again won a race and he takes you out on a ride for the night, taking dangerous but very exciting risks. He should have expected that the rush of adrenaline in your body always turns you into a horny mess.
⚡︎ pairing: racer!jimin x fem!reader
⚡︎ genre: established relationship, smut
⚡︎ word count: 6.4k
⚡︎ warnings: unrealistic depiction of motor sports, jimin likes cars & oc is a bimbo lol, lots of cute nasty shit, disrespect of speed limits (jimin's breaking the law ‼️🙀), if this isn't the perfect representation of how deprived i am idk what is, sexting, nudes exchange, dom jimin/sub reader, unprotected sex, public/car sex, praising & degradation, brief anal play, blowjob, cum eating.
a.n.: it's jimin's special day 🤭 so i'm giving myself a gift lol. how generous of me to share it with you 🫶🏻 i finished this with a headache so y'all better hype this up (it deserves it, give it a read 😉)
"Minnie!"
"Hey, baby girl. Did you enjoy the race?"
"Yes!" You squeal excitedly, sticking your phone to your ear, happy Jimin decided to call you after his awesome performance. "You were so great," you say dreamily, "Couldn't take my eyes off of you."
You hear Jimin chuckling through the phone as you throw yourself on your bed, landing on your stomach. You bite down on your lip and start kicking your legs while listening to his husky voice, sending chills down your spine.
"I believe you," he laughs and you can't help but smile. "Won that one just for you, babe," he flirts, butterflies erupting in your stomach. You bring a finger up to your mouth and chew on your nail, practically mewling at the flattery.
Your boyfriend always manages to make you shy, teasing and flirting with you like the very first time. You imagine his plump, pink lips moving slowly to form the words, coming out of his mouth like pure and sweet honey.
"What wouldn't you do for me, hm?" You question, flirting back with him and hearing him laugh at that. "I'm so proud of you, Minnie," you purr into the telephone, an undying smile plastered on your face.
"You know me, princess," he begins and you picture the little grin he's surely sporting right now, "I never come second," he smugly snickers.
Even though you always tell him to not be too cocky — karma will come bite your ass, you usually repeat to him — you find it extremely hot at the moment. You love when a man is confident and isn't afraid to fight for what's his.
You recognize the sound of a door opening and closing on Jimin's other end of the phone, hearing him walk and rummage through his things.
"What are you doing?" You ask.
"Picking out an outfit for this evening," he replies, phone secured between his shoulder and ear while he takes out pieces of clothes from his suitcase. "Hopping in the shower in a minute."
"I see..." You hang on the last syllable, drawing invisible forms on the bed covers underneath you. You hear him stepping into the bathroom and locking the door behind him. "You must be so sweaty right now," you wonder, a naughty image of a sweaty Jimin appearing in your head, skin all sticky and glistening, a delicious, manly odour emanating from him.
"You bet I am," he confirms. "Talk later, yeah? I'll be at yours in four hours, babe."
You and your boyfriend are supposed to hang out later in the evening today. It was planned before the race, agreeing to see each other no matter if he wins or loses, but Jimin never comes second, does he?
You nod your head, though you remember he can't see you. "'Kay, see ya later, Minnie," you sing in response, crossing your legs and resting your chin on your open palm.
"See ya, love you."
"Love you, too."
You hang up on Jimin, sighing contentedly before throwing your iPhone on the bed and rolling on your back, looking up at the ceiling. You stay silent for a few seconds until you start humming a lullaby, improvising a random tune.
The 'ding' of your phone interrupts you and you turn your head around to look at your new notification.
💬 Jimin 💓 sent an attachment.
This immediately catches your intention so you open the chat, biting down on your lip in anticipation, belly bubbling in excitement. Your brows raise up when your eyes lay on the photo Jimin's sent you. You feel your face and core heating up, blood rushing to your poor little clit.
You click on the picture to have a closer view, and gosh, your boyfriend is fucking hot. Your mouth waters and you cannot believe how handsome he is. He has the body of an angel and the personality of the devil for sharing that pic with you.
You see his veiny cock fully hard from the underside, standing tall over his stomach, a patch of dark hair crowning his pubis. You rub your thighs together to relieve the ache between your legs, unable to look away from your phone.
You can't see his face, but you have a beautiful sight of his abdomen, coated in a thin layer of sweat. You have the insatiable need to touch him, feel his heavy length weighing down on your tongue and have your small palm wrapped around the base of it.
You want Jimin to slap your face with his cock, tease you by swiping his wet tip over your lips, letting out a disapproval 'nuh-uh' when you try to put it in your mouth out of eagerness.
He took the picture just before going into the shower. He's such a tease.
You start to type out your response, thumbs quickly pressing down on the keyboard.
You: aww minnie :( wanna put my tongue on you wanna lick all that sweat off your abs and take you so deep in my throat
Jimin 💓: yeah? wanna cry like a little bitch around my dick?
Real bad, you think, heat pooling in your panties. You feel your clit aching, but you don't want to ease the pain, don't really want to play with yourself — maybe just out of pure laziness, though you know edging yourself before seeing Jimin makes things ten times more intense. And needy.
You open the camera app and lift your crop top over your breasts, taking a quick picture of your boobs for Jimin. You go back to your conversation with him and add the nude you've just captured to the chat.
💬 You sent an attachment.
You: yes your cock's too big for me, always make my eyes sting ;( want you to cum on my tits, minnie, please make a mess of me i'm your cumslut x
Jimin 💓: love those tits but you're right, baby my good, little cumslut. god, you're so gross, you realize that?
You: not gross! just passionately wanting you to mark me as yours but i can be a lil gross while sucking your cock :p
Jimin 💓: you always eat that cock like a stupid mess anyway drooling like a dog for it
You: can't help myself when you feel so good in my mouth <3 when your cum feels so warm and creamy on my breasts gosh i wanna be with you so bad right now miss you so much minnie
Jimin 💓: you fucking minx i'll be there in a few. i've told you, didn't i, needy girl?
You: you did! but i feel so lonely without my minnie my pussy's so so wet just thinking about you :(
Jimin 💓: fuck i know coming soon. wait for me, princess
You: okie-dokie x
💬 You sent an attachment.
You: oops sorry, miss-clicked :D
Jimin 💓: you know you didn't gonna fuck those tits bite those cute perky nipples
You: they're too small for it, i fear :/
Jimin 💓: shut up you know i can fuck every part of your body if i want to you're gonna push them on your chest and make a tight little entrance for me
You: if that's what mister wants >:(
Jimin 💓: yes. i'm gonna go in the shower now, you've distracted me enough
You: good shower x
⋆⭒˚。⋆
You're happy to see Jimin parked in front of your apartment building as you walk down the stairs, getting in the passenger side of his Porsche. You don't know which model it is — not that you have registered that information when he first told you — but you know it's in a beautiful grey colour.
After closing the door, you perch yourself over the centre console and lean in toward Jimin, pursing your lips to kiss him. "Hi," you softly greet him with a smile, smooching his full lips then every part of his face.
"Hey, baby," he chuckles, letting himself be pampered in your wet and warm kisses. The wet feeling isn't really what he likes the most, but he'll never stop you from showing your affection to him. He secretly loves it.
You eventually back away with a giggle, catching the smirk Jimin tries to hide. "You have a bit of lipstick here..." You giggle again, even though you should feel guilty for staining his cheeks with the marks of your lips, but he looks too cute this way.
"Where?" he questions, brows frowning a little, "Here?" he points to his right cheek. He got it right, but it's not the only place where he has lipstick.
"Yeah, here, too." You poke his left cheek. "And some here," you whisper, talking about his jaw and tracing it, "Definitely here..." You swipe your index over his plump lips. "Oh, and more here!" You exclaim, rapidly diving in to leave a kiss to his forehead, but before you can sit back up in your seat, Jimin holds you by the waist.
You squeal, flinching when he smacks your ass with his free hand, gripping the flesh by slipping a palm under your jean skirt. "You little tease... You like making fun of me, don't you?" He sensually growls in your ear, pussy clenching around nothing.
You whine, shaking your head from side to side, holding eye-contact with him. Your hands are laying flat against his chest, leaning on him to keep yourself face to face with your boyfriend.
"No! Just like how you look with my lips all over you," you purr, grinning when Jimin quirks an eyebrow. "Gotta show everybody that you're taken..."
"I see, little miss possessive," he says, giving small taps to your butt.
"Yes, you're mine," you affirm. "Mine, mine, mine," you repeat the word over again, kissing once more Jimin's pretty face.
He shuts you up by crashing his mouth on yours, gripping you by the jaw and keeping you in place. When he breaks your exchange, he instructs you to sit in your seat. "Put your seatbelt on, princess."
You reluctantly let go of Jimin's lips and do what he told you to. Even though he scolded you for ruining his smooth face, he doesn't do anything to wipe the lipstick's stains off, which makes you smile. There aren't that many anyway, you were lying earlier, but you love it when it doesn't bother him to wear your marks like you always wear his proudly — he's the kind to bite your inner thighs while eating you out and leave the trace of his teeth on you.
"Okay, let's go!" You announce loudly, not sure where you're going — probably to his since he lives on the other side of the city — but you're still very excited nonetheless. Car rides with Jimin are always a lot of fun.
"Let's go," he repeats with a nod of his head, sending you a wink as he puts the car into drive. You giggle once again, just genuinely happy to be with your boyfriend — your favourite person on this planet.
You look outside, watching the city lights at night and the other cars with you on the road. Jimin sometimes — often — judges which car people are driving, saying this model isn't worth anything or that the brand is just shitty. You don't understand the justification, but it has no importance to you, to be quite honest. And anyway, he sounds really hot when he's talking about a subject he's an expert in.
There's the occasional asshole who accelerates at red lights, this time being a BMW, surely intimidated or jealous by the expensive Porsche next to them. You find these people super annoying, especially when they do that when they see a woman standing on the sidewalk. How little their dick has to be.
Though Jimin doesn't feel the need to do that because he's not a pathetic man, he still has to crush that guy's ego. You notice him going faster next to the other car as you enter the highway, having a bit more space and freedom.
"Minnie," you say his nickname kind of as a warning, but you know he won't listen to you. You pretend to not support this improvised car race even though you already feel the adrenaline rushing through your body.
"Hold on to the handle, baby," he commands, looking through his rear mirror to see what the other car is doing, and to his satisfaction, they're participating in the race with Jimin. "We're gonna show this guy what it is really like to race," he smirks cheekily, adjusting better his rear mirror to a better angle.
So you execute yourself, gripping the handle placed just upside the door passenger — gripping it tightly, feeling your heart start beating faster.
The feeling is pleasantly familiar, remembering the numerous times Jimin made you hop in his Mustang during his practices, going super fast and trying to impress you. You've always been really impressed.
You recall the time he went to Bordeaux, trying out the famous circuit just for fun, just because it's Jimin. You've accompanied him there and watched him race with other professionals. It was truly amazing, really thrilling.
Jimin goes up to 140 km/h really fast in a 90 km/h zone. He dodges vehicles easily, though it's tight and fucking dangerous. There are three lanes for one way of the traffic and for the other, so he has to analyze his surroundings every time he needs to change lanes.
His opponent is catching up behind, also dodging cars and trying to pass Jimin. But your boyfriend is prepared; he handles the steering wheel better. His vision is sharp, shifting between his mirror and in front of him quickly. He's an expert, a professional — the BMW has zero chance.
If it was daytime, you're sure an improvised race like this wouldn't even be conceivable, considering how packed the highway usually is, but during nighttime there are way less car on the road. It allows them to drive more freely and fluidly. It's still very risky, but you love the adrenaline rushing through your body, love how intoxicating it is.
Jimin's grip tightens around the wheel, veins popping out along his strong arms. He looks so good with jewelry, wearing a few silver rings on his fingers and a watch around his wrist. You catch a glimpse of the thirteen tattoo inked on his skin, being the date of his birthday and also the number he races with.
"Jimin... what if there's a cop?" You say worryingly.
He grins, as if this can't be a problem at all. "Then this jackass gonna chicken out," he snickers, pressing down on the accelerator with his right foot. "Look at this," he says, holding the steering wheel with a lot of force so the car doesn't drive off the road. You look forward, seeing the BMW getting ahead.
Jimin puts on the turn signal to the right as they're getting closer to an industry truck and a van. There's a small gap separating them as they're both on different lanes, a gap just big enough for the Porsche.
Your eyes widen, pulse racing faster, hearing your heartbeat in your head. It's like your heart is going to explode or come out of your chest at how intense everything feels. It's addicting.
Jimin accelerates and passes by his opponent, sneaking between the too big vehicles, keeping the turn signal on as he maneuvers his way through the small gap. Your breath is caught in your throat as he does so, holding the handle tighter and tighter, scrunching your eyes shut, believing deeply in Jimin's skills...
"Oh my fucking god," he exhales heavily as if he was also holding in his breath. This is your cue to open your eyes again, nothing in front of you, meaning Jimin has succeeded. You hear him laugh, smiling with his full set of teeth. "Fucking loser!"
You glance at him, stars in your eyes and glinting in pure admiration. You find him extremely attractive, even more than he already is. You burst out in laughter too, incapable of keeping it in, finally stressing down.
You look over your shoulder and the BMW is stuck behind the truck and the van, the space now too small to pass through. Jimin won.
He has a big arrogant smirk on his face, one hand on the wheel as he licks his lips, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth after. You know he's proud of himself, and you have to admit that you are impressed.
"That was sick!" You squeal and giggle, your heart still pounding in your chest, but eventually slowing down to a normal pace. "Minnie, it was- I... Oh, God! Awesome, it was awesome!"
He chuckles as you struggle to get the words out, absolutely surprised, but in a really good way. You lack the words to describe how you're feeling and how the whole thing was just so thrilling. The adrenaline is such a strong hormone that you still haven't recovered from the race. You'll remember this one for a very long time, that's for sure.
"It was like a rollercoaster!" You say with a lot of excitement, looking at Jimin while he has his eyes settled in front of him, soon reaching your destination.
"I knew you'd like this," he flashes you a smile, glancing in your direction for a short second. "You're a little rebel, aren't you?"
"My boyfriend's a bad boy, of course I like a bit of danger..." You flirt, making Jimin laugh again.
When the car comes to a halt, you immediately unbuckle your seatbelt and jump on Jimin, not caring if you're in the parking lot of his apartment building. You straddle his lap and your entire body is on fire. You didn't realize the race made you that horny to the point you can't even wait to be in his apartment to start fucking him.
You kiss him and he reciprocates it right away, moving his mouth over yours hungrily. You cup his cheeks and begin to rock your hips back and forth, grinding down on Jimin. He bites your lip which makes you whine softly, pulling on his dark locks at the nape of his neck.
His hands lay on your hips, guiding you over his lap, pushing your bottom down on him to intensify the grinding motion. The steering wheel sometimes pokes you in the back, but you don't pay it any attention, kissing every patch of skin on Jimin's face, descending to his sharp jaw.
You're both breathing heavily, the small binnacle of the luxury car beginning to be really restricted in air. Though, it doesn't stop you, not at all.
You smooch the side of his throat, sensing his Adam's apple bobbing every time he swallows. You want to lick and kiss every part of his body, you need it — you need to feel his smooth skin under your tongue.
Jimin smells like his favourite body wash, a scent so manly and tingly it turns you feral on its own. He's a bit sweaty now so you have the salty taste of his natural essence on your tongue, feeling how warm his body is just after an eventful race.
You slightly chew on his flesh and suck on it, wanting to mark him even more in beautiful purple love bites, adding on with the traces of your lipstick. He groans under you, tilting his head back so you have better access to his neck.
He palms your butt under your short skirt, making you grind on him more avidly. Your panties start to get wet, the material sticking to your pussy lips because of your arousal gushing out of your cunt. You're so turned on it has your brain all mushy, no thoughts other than ones about Jimin and how good he's going to feel inside of you.
Then he pulls you back by your hair, your lips leaving the crook of Jimin's neck, eyes strained down on him since he forces your head back. Your hands clasp around his t-shirt, crumpling it between your little fists.
"What's that, baby, hm?" He questions, squinting his eyes at you. You think he's referring to your eagerness, taking control without really realizing it.
"Sorry, but please..."
"That cunt's too fucking greedy, is that it?" He lifts a brow, cupping your pussy through your panties with the hand not gripping your hair. "What a little slut you are... Soaking through your underwear already?" He mocks, gliding the tip of his finger over your core, feeling how damp the material is.
You decide you better be honest, knowing a little begging always makes Jimin fold. "Yes, want you so bad, Minnie," you breathe out while humping his hand as he keeps his palm over your crotch and he enjoys how you're so desperate to the point of chasing his touch. "Need you in my pussy, need your cock to feel me up, please," you beg sweetly, clawing at his t-shirt. "Please, Minnie, please."
He observes you for a while, frowning a bit as his pretty head is reflecting, maybe asking himself if he should give you what you want or not. You let out a whine — a pathetic one — and you know that's what finally convinces him.
"Want my cock?" He asks and you nod repeatedly, still holding on his shirt like it's the only thing keeping you from falling miserably into the depth of lust. "Then fucking take it, baby," he growls lowly, biting down on his plump bottom lip, pupils blown out.
You sigh in relief, babbling out a little grateful 'thank you' as you lower your hands to his pants. He looks down at your shaky hands, a faint smirk appearing on his lips. His hand that was previously on your cunt has shifted to your thighs, caressing your curves, admiring your body that looks so frail and easy to break.
Oh, he does know how simple it is to turn you into a slutty mess, drooling and crying like a baby to have his dick, not caring in which hole it goes as long as it's nestled in you.
You yank the zipper down and work on getting his baggy jeans down his thighs. Jimin's still watching you, not bothering to give you a helping hand, quite finding it adorable how you struggle so much.
When you free his cock out of his Armani boxer briefs, you gasp softly at the sight of his semi-hard lying against his toned stomach. "Always so big, Minnie," you tease, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip.
And it's true. He's average, just the right length for you, but the thickness, gosh it makes you salivate. The girth isn't talked about enough because that's the thing that has you crying tears of joy when his cock splits you open, the burning sensation always a plus to your pleasure.
You love it that he doesn't shave, seeing him in all his glory, dark pubic hair decorating his pelvis. His mushroom tip peeks out from under his foreskin, your mouth watering at the thought of having it in your mouth and twirling your pink muscle around it, tasting the little beads of pre-cum on your warm tongue.
"Stop kissing my ass," he laughs, smacking one of your ass cheeks. You giggle, though you're really being honest. He's stupidly girthy, not to mention the size of his balls that never miss to slap the skin of your butt whenever he fucks you in missionary.
"I love kissing your ass, though. You deserve it, Minnie," you flatter, showing him how much you love him and his pretty cock.
"Shut up," he suddenly rasps out, taking a hold of your jaw with one hand, deft fingers poking into your chubby cheeks and making your lips purse out. "Wanna fuck that cock or not?" You mumble a 'yes' through your squished face. "Get to work, then."
He lets go of you as you grip his cock, small hand barely fitting around the girth, giving him a few lazy pumps to get him completely hard. You hum when you feel him stiff under your palm, a bit of pre-cum leaking from the slit over his swollen tip.
You smear it with your thumb, twisting your wrist as you run your hand up and down his length languidly. You spit in your hand and bring it back down to his cock, coating him in your saliva.
You slip your panties down, wiggling in every direction to get them out of the way and finally throw them away on the back seats. You smile at the thought of Jimin finding them later, remembering this filthy night, dick swelling at the dirty images of you riding him in his car.
"Want it on my pussy..." You sweetly purr, directing the head of his cock to your cunt, pressing it down on your clit. You steady yourself by placing a hand on his shoulder, the other circling your bud of nerves with his leaky tip. "Want your hot cum on my dirty little pussy," you tease again, using the same words he likes telling you in his sultry voice, so deep and raspy, making shivers run down your spine.
His dark eyes lift up from your hand guiding his cock in smooth circles over your puffy, aching clit and looks at you, catching the way you trap your bottom lip between your teeth. You see that he loves the idea you've just planted in his brain, wanting to cover your nasty cunt in his cum so bad.
"Fucking whore," he says under his breath, jaw hanging open. His hands roam over your body, often groping your ass cheeks or sneaking under your crop top, touching the underside of your breasts.
You move your hips in circle motions as well, stimulating your sensitive clit with the head of his cock, so warm and pleasant against your pussy.
"Am I your favourite one, though?" You pout.
He grins, letting out a low chuckle, "Of course, and the only one." At that, a lewd moan escapes your mouth and you start humping Jimin's dick, wet pussy lips gliding over his erection. "Hmm, that's it, baby," he encourages, hands on your hips as you move more frantically over him, covering him in your slicks.
Your breath is irregular, chasing your high with fervour, moaning obscenely above Jimin. "Gonna cum," you announce hastily, the rub of your clit against his cock driving you over the edge really quickly. Plus, you were already turned on, so your orgasm isn't far away, the knot in your stomach unraveling.
"Go ahead, cum on my cock, baby girl," he softly commands as if his permission was the only thing you needed to finally see stars. He grips your hips as you open your mouth, silent whimpers and moans coming out.
"Yes, yes, Minnie," you chant as you hump his cock, thighs and hands shaking. Your clitoral orgasm passes through you, bucking your hips forward while you slowly drive off your high. "Fuck, fuck..." You cry, letting go of his member and hiding your face in the crook of his neck for comfort.
He gently caresses your back in circles, helping you calm down and come back to earth. "Good job," he coos in your ear. "What a big girl. Rubbing your pussy all over my cock and cumming without my help," Jimin praises, patting your ass that peeks out from under your short skirt.
You only whimper in response, coming back to reality. You push yourself off Jimin's chest, looking at him with a pout on your lips. He knows it's fake, just to persuade him to do whatever you're going to ask him.
"Put it in, please," you beg in a whiny voice, "Need your big cock in me, Jimin." You sweetly pamper his face in warm kisses, knowing he never resists them. "Please, please, please."
He sighs, feeling your lips pressing down on his smooth skin, leaving his face all red and damp from your teasing little kisses. He gropes your thighs, slapping one of them as you arch your back like a slut.
"Take it then," he growls, gripping his cock and directing the head toward your dripping entrance. "Show me how bad you want it, my stupid girl," he purrs in your ear, cock head swiping between your pussy lips.
You eagerly bob your head, trapping your bottom lip between your teeth as you look down where you slowly sink down Jimin's thick length. You gasp softly when the head of his cock stretches out your cunt, expending it to his large size.
You continue to sink further down, hearing the groans and moans of your boyfriend, gripping your hips and digging his fingers into your flesh. You love the familiar burning sensation, reminding you that his cock is pushing into you, connecting both of your bodies and souls.
When you're finally sitting on his lap, dick nestled in the comfort of your warmth, clit touching his pubes, it feels exhilarating, almost too good to be true. Despite having been in you so many times before, neither one of you are getting used to the incredible sensation of being so close to each other, so connected.
"So big, Jimin," you moan softly, slowly moving your hips back and forth, doing grinding motions. "Love it so much," you mewl, holding onto his shoulders.
He looks down, too, and sees a shiny dew coating his pubic hair, your arousal leaking down his balls and pelvis. It's beautiful, a strong odour of sex invading the interior of the car.
"Yeah, baby?" He questions, voice a little breathy. "Love having my cock in you? Splitting your tight little cunt open?" He now gropes your ass, liking how the two small globes of flesh fit in his calloused palms.
"Uh-huh," you agree and drag your hips up, cock slipping out of your wet pussy, his meaty length glistening in your sweet juices. You yank them back down, creating a new motion, bouncing up and down his stiff erection.
You ride his cock in his car, steering wheel sometimes knocking your back as you vividly jump on his dick, but it isn't a major bother to you, not at all. Nothing's more important to you now than to fuck Jimin and feel his cock deep into you.
"It's so thick," you babble out, mouth staying open as little moans escape you. It makes Jimin groan hearing you say how his girthy cock destroys your tiny pussy, seeing it with his own eyes, pussy enveloping his shaft.
He loves knowing you like a bit of pain, willing to go through it to after reach a high level of pleasure. "Cock whore," he grunts, smacking your ass, the skin stinging because of the rings adorning his fingers.
You keep bouncing on him, wanting to make this as pleasurable as possible for him, but you know your legs will soon be tired. Though, you don't give up, and ride Jimin like your life depends on it.
You sense his fingers dancing on your butt, reaching your tight hole under your skirt. It surprises you, a little high-pitched moan leaving your mouth, but you don't say no — never would you.
He teases your rim, deft fingers circling it, making you arch your back and lean into his warm touch. You start grinding over his lap again, desperate to reach your high and feel his cock head brushing against your sweet spot inside you.
Jimin pushes his thumb at your hole while you roll your hips over his with vigour, literally using him for your pleasure. He doesn't mind, though, and penetrates your other entrance with his finger. You let out a loud moan, always loving it when Jimin fills you up everywhere.
"Gosh, I'm so close, Minnie..." You announce, rutting your hips against his and crumpling his t-shirt between your small fists.
"Keep going, baby, keep going," he encourages, holding the fat of your hips and guiding them over his hard cock. "Cum for me, my sweet girl."
"Yes, yes," you chant, his dick repeatedly nudging your sensitive spot, making the knot in your stomach tighten. "For you... Gonna cum for you, Minnie," you say before finally feeling it explode in your belly, millions of tingles passing through your entire body.
Your thighs shake beside his, rolling your hips fast over his lap to drive off your intense high. With trembling limbs, you slowly lift up your butt, discovering his length coating in your milky and shiny release.
Jimin groans in satisfaction, staring at his dick with adoration in his eyes. He slaps your ass, praising you for your good job a second time.
"What about you clean that mess off, hm?" He proposes, raising his gaze up to your glossy eyes. You bite down on your lip, the idea eliciting another wave of arousal in you. "Gonna lick it off and make me cum with that pretty mouth of yours, baby?"
With a nod of your head, you get out of the car, stepping on the cement of the indoor parking lot. Jimin lets the driver's door open as he leans his back against the car, telling you to come over with a tilt of his head.
You kneel in front of him, your naked knees lying on the cold ground, thighs sticky with your cum and pussy completely bare, feeling the air hitting it. You grip his pants, looking up at him with puppy eyes, silently asking for permission to touch his pretty cock, shining in your natural essence.
"Lift up your top," he orders, holding his thick length in his right hand. You do so and it seems to satisfy Jimin, a little appreciative growl leaving his throat. "Perfect, you can touch it, baby," he sends you the green light and you happily comply.
You replace his hand with yours, your fingers barely wrapping all the way around the base. You stroke it gently, feeling your slick slipping between your fingers, and look up at Jimin, making sure you're doing this alright.
Jimin sees that you're seeking compliments, a smile tugging on his pretty, plump pink lips. "Doing great, princess. Don't be shy, put your tongue on it," he instructs, your head bobbing to show your agreement.
You stick out your pink muscle and lean down to put it on his swollen tip, swallowing his bulbous head in after. Your lips wrap around him, tasting yourself on your tongue.
You sat prettily on your knees, wearing your white sneakers as your little ass peeks out from underneath your jean skirt, taking more of his length into your greedy mouth. You scoot yourself closer, wanting the tip of your nose to touch the patch of dark hair crowning his pelvis.
Jimin moans above you, gripping your hair in a tight hold as you sink down on him. Your wish is granted, having the entirety of his cock in your mouth, his tip teasing the back of your throat.
"Fuck, play with your tits for me, baby," he breathily commands, hooded eyes staring down at you. You flutter your eyes at him, executing yourself and rolling your nipples under your palms. You much prefer it when it's Jimin's hands, but you'll do without them this time.
You pull your head back, him watching his cock reappear between your lips, then disappear when you sink back down. You pinch your nipples, making them even harder, the cold air turning them extra stiffer.
You bounce your head over his engorged cock, hearing him moan and groan, an erotic melody to your ears. You choke a bit around him, Jimin delighted to see spit dripping down from the corners of your mouth, greedily taking him in your warmth.
"That's it, baby. Shit, such a good girl for me," he moans, voice husky and sultry. "Make me cum with that slutty little mouth," he insists, lust dancing in his dark orbs, looking at you like you're the very own object of his deepest desires. And you are.
You hum around him, groping your breasts while sucking him off, his strong hand gripping your hair at the roots, making your scalp itch. It sends delicious vibrations through the entirety of Jimin's body, a shiver running up his spine as you take him deep into your throat.
You hollow your cheeks and swallow around his length like you know he loves, hearing his little moans of approval above you. "Christ, baby... Gonna cum, keep going," he warns you and you're pleased to know you're making him feel really good.
You flatten your tongue under his heavy cock, bobbing your head over his stiff erection, pulling and pinching on your hard nipples. Jimin doesn't look away from you once, so turned on by your little fingers playing with your tits and your kneeling form sucking him off.
Suddenly, he keeps your head in place over his cock, forcing you down on him, nose pressed down against his hairy pelvis. You look up at him with teary eyes, feeling them sting. A crease appears between his soft eyebrows, mouth opening as he looks out deep and soft moans.
Jimin cums down your throat, cock twitching and shooting his release in thick, long ropes inside your mouth. You whine around him, wiggling your ass, happy to finally taste him.
"Fuuck," he breathes out, the muscles of his thighs tensing. He pulls out quickly, stroking his cock fast, angling it down toward your naked boobs.
You gasp softly, swallowing thickly to ease your poor throat, feeling his hot and creamy cum landing on your chest. He milks himself dry, moaning as small white beads spurt out his tip and fall on your beautiful tits.
Jimin exhales heavily, his head lolling back on his shoulders. He closes his eyes for a few seconds, catching his breath. He holds his hand out for you to take and pull you up from the ground. He tucks himself back in his briefs and zips his jeans back up as you lean down to kiss him on the lips, giggling joyfully after.
Jimin helps you clean up the mess he made on you with the spare box of tissues he keeps in his car. You pull down your top, covering your breasts.
The vehicle beeps and the front lights flashes as he clicks twice on the button to lock the doors. You walk to the elevator hand in hand, ready to go back into Jimin's apartment with a cute afterglow shining on both your faces.
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thebearer · 11 months
Note
PLEASEEEE write about carmy trying to put a baby in reader 🙏🙏🙏
minors dni 18+ also i'm doing two versions of this, this is just the first one since i had another ask for this lol
Carmen barely looked up, seeing you walk through the swinging doors back into the restaurant. Normally, he'd be worried that you were here, coming in unannounced before the dinner rush, his mind would race and tell him something was wrong. Today he knew better, he knew exactly why you were here.
"Hey, Sydney." Carmen muttered, scraping the prepped vegetables into the container, his eyes locking with yours. "I need you to cover for me, Chef."
"Ok..." Sydney muttered, looking from you and Carmen. "Are you good, Chef?"
"What? Yeah, no, yeah. I-I'm good. I just... Gotta order some stuff, and-and I just got a lot of office stuff I need to do." Carmen rambled, cheeks heating with each stammered word.
Sydney was suspect, especially with the way you were looking at each other, but she shrugged it off. "I got it, Chef." She nodded, checking off his prep on her clipboard.
"Good. Uh, if you need me just uh, knock and I'll come out." Carmen nodded, ignoring how her face contorted into disgust, practically sprinting to his office.
You were already waiting inside, dropping your purse on the couch, eyeing Carmen hungrily when he shut the door, twisting the lock behind him. "We don't have long." Carmen muttered, tearing off his apron.
"I don't need long." You hummed, pushing your shorts to the ground, letting them puddle around your ankles.
"You gotta be quiet, baby." Carmen looked at you, eyes glued on your puffy lips, drooling and teasing him when you bent over the couch, nose practically touching the wall.
"I can't promise that." You grinned, looking over your shoulder at him. "Hurry up, Berzatto. Before they need you. I need you."
Carmen snorted, palming himself through his boxers, shuffled steps over towards you with one last look over his shoulder. "I got ya, honey." He muttered, pulling himself out and stroking his length. "You sure this is supposed to work?"
"They said as much as possible when you're ovulating." You huffed, wiggling impatiently. You and Carmen had decided to try for a baby, ditching your birth control only last month. Truthfully, you were using the baby making as an excuse to fuck as much as possible, not that you needed much of one when you were ovulating.
"Never thought I'd hear you complain about having sex." You grinned.
Carmen snorted lightly, letting the head of his cock glide between your folds. "Not complaining." He muttered, teasing your entrance gently. "Never complain, baby."
You started to reply, a sharp, witty reply on the tip of your tongue, cut short by him sinking inside you, pushing into you with one long stroke, stretching you out for him. You gasped, pushing your head into your hands, hopeful to muffle the sound coming out of you.
Carmen's hand sunk into your waist, gripping the fat of your hip to bring you back to him, hips rocking slow and steady against yours, the sound of skin slapping skin one he hoped was muffled through the thick walls.
"Fuck, baby, you feel good. So fuckin' good." Carmen grunted lowly, fingers curling around your hip, jaw clenched to keep himself from groaning.
"Oh! That's the spot, Carm, fuck." You whined, back arching further at one particularly hard thrust, jamming that sweet spot inside of you that had your vision blurring, mind blanking in pleasure.
"Shh, be quiet, baby." Carmen hushed, leaning forward, one hand propped on the wall beside you. "Gotta be quiet. Can't let them- shit- can't let them know what we're doin'."
Carmen's hands curled around your waist, cradling your lower belly, feeling the way it flexed when you clenched around him. He could see it, see you all swollen and big with the baby- his baby. The baby he put inside you. It made Carmen's teeth grit, fucking you harder and harder with a new found vigor, a free hand covering your mouth to muffle your cries.
"Can't let them know I'm fuckin' a baby into you." Carmen rasped, hot breath tickling your ear, leaving you shivering. "Gonna put a baby right in here, hm? That's what you want right?"
"Yes." You whined, tears pricking your eyes. He was making you feel so good.
"You want a baby? Want me to give you a baby, huh?" Carmen growled, his hips snapping further and further, pinning you against the couch.
"Please, Carm. Please gimme a baby." You cried, letting your head fall back against his.
"Since you asked so nicely." Carmen smirked, hips snapping up into yours. "Shit, I- you close? You close, baby?"
You nodded, reaching to move his hand, pushing it further until it was cupping your mound. Carmen got the hint, pinching and rolling your clit until you were gasping and writhing in pleasure, his free hand cupping your mouth while his thrusts got sloppier around you.
Carmen pulled you back, pressing on your spine so you were face first into the couch, ass up and high for him while he pounded into you, chest pressed to your spine, until he was spilling inside of you. Pressed so he was flush to your ass, Carmen emptied his load, hot and filling deep inside of you.
"Hang on, hold on," Carmen muttered when you started to move, hands pressing softly to your side. "I didn't... Fuck, we didn't think this one through. You gotta put your legs up, right?"
You nodded, eyes still glossy, skin still flushed and glowing. Carmen snatched the pillow from the other side, setting it in front of you. "Ok, I'm gonna pull out, and I'm gonna catch it, ok? You just, you lay down. Hips on the pillow."
Carmen pulled out slow, pointer and middle finger catching any dribbling release, pushing them back inside you. You whimpered at the sensation, still sensitive, while you moved to lie on the pillow, his fingers still inside you, propping your legs up on the edge of the couch.
"Shit, I forgot a towel. Fuck, let me just, uh, let me go grab one-"
"-'s alright, Carmen." You hummed, looking at him through fluttering lashes that made his heart skip. "I'll just keep it in. The longer the better."
Carmen tried not to gawk, but he knew he was given away by the rise in his cheeks, heat flushing his skin. His groin ached, a dull throb that had him twitching with heat at the idea. "O-Ok." Carmen muttered, pulling his pants up fastening his jeans.
"Let me grab your clothes, baby, I'll put them on for you." Carmen muttered sweetly, gently putting your panties and shorts on, trying to keep your body as still as possible.
Later, the two of you were walking hand in hand into family, giggly and touchy- you could feel him leaking out of you with every step. It made your tummy trill with heat.
"This smells good." You grinned, eyes batting up at Carmen.
"Yeah? I'll get you a plate. Don't worry 'bout it." Carmen muttered, nodding towards a seat for you.
The room had stilled, eyes on the two of you, suspicious and a little questioning. Carmen looked around, blue eyes darting furiously.
"Oh no fuckin' way." Richie cackled, breaking the silence in the room. "Cousin, no way-"
"What? What are you-"
"-Look at you! Both of you!" Richie leaned back, clapping his hands in laughter. "You're sick, cousin. Sick!"
You blushed, the snickers from Fak and Sweeps, the knowing glances from the others. Carmen blushed furiously, glaring at Richie fiercely. Tina smirked, shrugging when she looked at you.
"I'm sure this building's seen worse with Mikey." She muttered.
"That obvious?" You mumbled, looking around the room, shrinking into your seat.
"A little. You got the glow, honey. At least that's a good thing." Tina grinned, nudging you gently.
When you announced your pregnancy three months later, the entire staff swore baby Berzatto was conceived in the office. "Right there, on that fuckin' couch, cousin!"
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ghostssweetgirl · 1 year
Note
Yo me again lol, after reading that lil comfort Simon fic u did me , was curious to how the other 141 boys + König would react to sad fem reader just wanting to be held 👀
141 + König & How They Would React to You Wanting to be Held
You know I got you!
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Captain Price
He's a big teddy bear, forreal now. Like always giving the best hugs, and always encourages you with little pats on the back, his voice as smooth as honey when he asks you if you're okay.
He always knew when you were having an emotional day, and was always ready to be your support.
Hates seeing you cry, it nearly brings this old man to tears.
But he enjoys holding you, enjoys being the one that makes you feel better and back to your normal self.
In fact, he was about to check on you before you knock on his office door.
You meet his eyes with your swollen ones, slightly puffy from stuffing your face into your pillow while you cried. Before you could say anything, you could hear the concern in his tone.
"You a'right there, kid?" he tilted his head, putting all of his attention on you.
You bit the inside of your cheek as you thought about it. "Not really."
"Ah, I knew it," he chuckled as he leaned back in his desk chair. "Wanna talk about it?"
"No," you shrugged. "'M fine. Jus' wanna be held. Could you help me with that?"
He pat his lap as he belted out a hearty chuckle. "Right, come on, then."
This. This is what made him happy. It made his day when he made yours better. He gently patted your back while you got comfy, resting your head on his chest for God knows how long. It just felt nice to be in his strong, warm embrace. For Christ's sake, the man even put out his cigar to attend to you - fully.
You went to sit up but he pulled you back into his chest. "Nope, not done holding you yet." He didn't say it outright, but he needed it, too. Plus him holding you there while you playfully tried to get away made you giggle, which he loved to hear.
John 'Soap' MacTavish
Absolutely elated that you wanted him to hold you.
100% will put down anything he's doing to make you feel better.
Really good at comforting you with his words, he's so selfless.
He knew when you were sad, but never pushed as to not intrude in your personal space and privacy, but if you ever needed to talk, he was more than happy to lend an ear.
"Easy there, lass," he laughed as you plopped down on the sofa next to him, playfully pushing his arm away to lay on his chest. He gratefully pulled you into a tight embrace, and although it was an awkward position, holding you felt natural.
"Thanks, Johnny," you smiled, sinking down further where you lay on his belly. He swore besides Ghost, you were the only other one who could get away with calling him 'Johnny'. "You're really comfy."
"Aye, I bet y'are comfy there," he chuckled. "Did somethin' happen? Can tell yer sad, lass."
"Nothing happened, I suppose. Just... sad. You know?"
"Yeah."
"What do you do when you're sad, Johnny?" you asked.
"Usually go make you laugh," he smirked. "Always works. Seeing you smile makes my day."
"How sweet, but now I'll think every time you joke with me that you're sad," you frowned, looking up at him.
"Ah, it never lasts long, don't worry, bonnie," his eyes sparkled as he looked down at you with a wide smile plastered across his face.
Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick
A literal cuddle bug.
Was shy about holding you at first, but felt pure bliss when you two embraced.
Doesn't always know what to say, but he holds you so tight your brain shuts up.
When he does talk, his voice is very smooth.
You can hear his heartbeat fasten while you lay on his chest.
He was laying on the couch, minding his business, almost dozing off at the comfort of the sofa until he heard footsteps, specifically yours enter the room. His eyes widen as he sees your slumped shoulders, feeling your sadness radiate off of you. Concerned, he sits up. "Hey, you okay there?"
"Never better," you joked, tip-toeing a few inches closer to him. "I... have a question."
"I might have an answer, shoot."
"I was just wondering if you could hold me?" you asked nicely.
For a minute he sat there, looking you up and down as if 'are you sure?' and stammering as he found his words, shifting on the couch thinking of a comfy way to hold you. "W-would you like to lay on top of me?"
"As long as you hold me tight for a while, it doesn't matter."
It may have been awkward at first, but you two soon found comfort. You softly chuckled as you heard how fast his heart was pacing, poor guy was so nervous. Of course he liked you, but he didn't expect you to come to him to make you feel better.
He calmed down eventually, wrapping his arms around you tightly. "Starting to feel a little better?"
"Yeah, actually," you sigh. "Comfy... Might fall asleep."
He laughed as he agreed.
Simon 'Ghost' Riley
As per my last little one-shot, he never hesitated to hold you or even listen to you, give you advice when you sought it. He was a great Lieutenant first, but an even better friend, partner.
God, did he hate to hear and see you cry.
You were too good, too amazing to feel sad, and he wished he could take it all away. He'd take it away and go through it himself if he could.
You were always afraid you made him mad, but it was quite the opposite. He was proud you came to him. It helped his sense of responsibility, and helped him more than he thought it would, or could. Quite therapeutic for the two of you, if I must say.
You two understood each other on a different level than the others.
You didn't come to dinner, and that's when he knew you needed him. First off, you needed to eat. But more importantly, you needed to be mentally okay to eat proper. He excused himself from dinner before coming to your door, softly knocking 3 times before coming in worried.
He sighed as he spotted you in fetal position, holding your knees to your chest.
"Darlin'," he sat down. "Why didn't you come to me?"
"I didn't want to bother you," you whispered.
"W-why would you have bothered me?" It almost offended him you'd think you were a bother to him. You were anything but that.
"Don't know, I'm sorry," you apologize.
"No don't be-" he sighed, laying behind you, shifting behind you. He pulled your back into his broad chest, looking over at your beautiful face that he wished was smiling and happy. "Hey."
"Hey," you chirped.
"Now I'm goin' to hold you here until I can make you laugh, am I clear?" he chuckled, his voice raised in concern. "Let me make it better, luv."
"You always do, Simon," you start to smile. "Always. Thank you."
Alejandro Vargas
Such a romantic mannnn 😍.
A natural flirt, trying to take your mind off of whatever was bothering you which you refused to ever tell a soul.
Quick to ask if anyone hurt you and if he needed to take care of it, anger seeping through quickly before he learned that you were just sad and needed to be held.
You come up to him, frown on your face and your eyes still wet from just crying.
"Mi amor, who hurt you, huh?!" he cupped your face, his voice raised as he felt adrenaline rush through his veins.
You shook your head. "No one. Can you just hold me? It'd be really nice right now."
"Si, of course, of course," he rasped, guiding you to his room with his hand on the small of your back. "Hermosa, you should not be feeling so sad."
"I-I can't help it, I wish I wasn't," you complained.
He laid you down in his bed where he lay next to you gently. Not leaving any space between your bodies, he pulled you to lay on his chest. "Are you okay? Do you need anything - water, a snack, a hot or cold cloth, huh? Nothing for the princesa, yeah? Alright, okay, now come here, just lie there and look pretty, okay?"
You snuggled into him, cherishing his scent as he calmed you. He breathed deeply as he realized you just... needed this. It's been a while since he's held anyone, so this was much needed for him, as well.
König
Our shy little baby 🥺.
Hated when you were sad, but he was far too anxious to push it or ask about it unless you came to him.
He'd find himself pacing, hoping you were truly okay.
He wanted to knock on your door, hold you so close and pluck all the sadness out of your brain.
While everyone else was on a mission, you stayed back along with König, and while you felt like you needed someone, you didn't want to bother him, but you figured why not? The worst he can do... is not be there for you, which, to be fair, wasn't his responsibility, but it would sure help.
You knock on his door shyly, quietly and would be surprised if he even heard you. He opened it shyly as well, his eyes looking far down until they finally met yours. "Oh, uh, hi!"
"Hey, König... Can I come in? It's okay if-" you hold your hands up as if you were trying to defend yourself, not sure if you're making him uncomfortable.
"Ja, come in," he opened the door fully. You look around his tidy room, and set your eyes upon his humongous bed. You stand awkwardly there as you two look at each other nervously.
"I'm just going to ask it, so, König, I have a question..." your eyes met the ground.
"Okay..."
"Would you be willing to hold me? I'm- I feel sad and I just-"
He shook his head eagerly as he made his way to his bed, patting it, inviting you to join. "Of course, Schatz, come, sit."
You waddle over to his bed, having to jump to get on it. He was nervous because of his size, most people were scared of him based on it alone, but here you were, asking him to hold you in your time of need, making him feel proud.
He scooted up, patting his chest excitingly waiting for you to lie on it. He seemed more excited to hold you than you were excited to be held by him. The quietness was peaceful, and it wasn't long before you found yourself falling asleep on him.
He hummed, chuckling as he felt himself drifting off into a slumber himself. For once in a very long time, his anxiety dissipated for a moment, as long as you were there laying on him. He wished he could do this more often, for you and himself. He wondered if this would have helped him during his anxiety attacks.
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A/N - I hope this is something along the lines of what you were asking for! I apologize, I wrote this while I'm halfway falling asleep so if I lost it here and there I am sorry and can redo it if you want :) Thanks again for another request, please don't hesitate to send as much as you would like <3
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phyrestartr · 5 days
Text
Divine Favour | Sukuna x Kitsune!Reader (Pt.3)
W/C: 3.1k #SFW, mild yuuji/reader, yuuji and gang are v early 20s, heian sukuna, male reader, typical kitsune shapeshifting, canon typical violence, morally grey reader, unhealthy relationships, power imbalance, ABO elements, mentions of death, yuuji has entered the chat, gojo has entered the chat, idky this got sad tho lol
A/N: This bit made me very sad please suffer thank you!!! Also the main story will be wrapping soon (I think next part will be the last part?) and then after that, it'll probably be drabbles! There might be a 'sequel' that touches on the culling games tho because b r u h they've got some down time during that arc so hfhfhfhfhghghf imagine what I could do--
tags: @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @flowersatwork @nyanwko @kamote-kuneho @better-imagination-9 @3zae-zae3 @chibiduck @kiiyoooo @lukaijah
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A strict no-contact order had been placed on Yuuji, and, subsequently, Sukuna. Neither were to come into contact with you while you recovered, and neither were to be alone with you considering the control-slip incident. 
Still, the curse had been rampant in the young man’s mind, constantly pacing back and forth just behind his consciousness, waiting patiently as a predator should for Yuuji's guard to go down. Granted, even if Yuuji was caught by surprise, it'd still be near impossible to overtake the peppy twenty year-old. Sukuna didn't have an explanation, but it was what it was. 
He would have gladly seized control now, when you'd somehow managed to slip away from your recovery prison and get comfortable in Itadori Yuuji's bed. Sukuna would have slaughtered everyone at the academy for a second to touch you again, to breathe you in.
But the brat finally realized something was off, and woke to find your head tucked under his chin, his arms slung across your waist. Your breath fanned across his collarbone, tickling the sorcerer's touch-starved skin and feeding the fire burning in his cheeks–Sukuna, though, didn’t seem pleased his host was the one touching you. Yuuji counted that as a victory. 
Suck it, dickhead.
Hm? A stranger’s voice rippled instead of the king's. 
Yuuji jolted, his blood growing cold for a second before recognizing that voice–it came from that tidal wave of memories. But it didn't tick him off the way Sukuna's did. It was…nice.
Uh…you can hear me? Yuuji wondered. He tried to envision his voice as loud and clear as possible to help it reach you. 
Your brows twitched in your daze. Yes, I can hear you. There's no need to shout. 
Oh. Sorry. Uh, how'd you get in here? 
The door. 
Oh. Cool. Yuuji shifted a little. I'm not really supposed to, y'know, make contact with you or–
But you're warm. Your nails lightly dragged across his back, leaving trails of tingly pinpricks dancing across his skin. Yuuji swallowed a moan. God, why did the littlest touches feel so nice? 
Y-Yeah? My grandpa used to say I ran hot. Like a furnace or somethin’. 
I agree. You burn like firewood. And you smell warm. Like cedar and honey. You stretched languidly, and the younger stayed put, not strong enough to pull away from your praise and touch. Your teasing fingers raked through his hair daintily, and this time Yuuji did moan. Just the slightest bit before he snapped his mouth shut and bit his lip. 
You leave me wondering how you taste. 
“What?” Yuuji squawked. Your eyes lazily opened a crack, seemingly put off by the sudden break in room silence. It gave the sorcerer an opportunity to admire the golden glints of divinity hidden in the hue of your iris. 
But he found fear in that moment, too. Yuuji knew what most didn't–the curse sealed inside of him thought you to be his equal. You were the only beast Sukuna would bow before, the only one whose attention he craved and sought in his reign. 
You were, in a way, a king yourself.
Do you think I'll eat you, Yuuji? 
“I–uh–you–well–” Yuuji fumbled exceptionally, choking on flustered words. “I just--Sukuna ate people, right? So, uh. Maybe you did too?” 
You looked him over for a moment. Your gaze traced the cute curve of the younger's nose, the petite fangs worrying at his bottom lip, the caramel swirl of his eyes. He looked so much like Sukuna. It made you wonder. 
I've eaten humans, yes, You agreed, nonchalant. Do you want me to eat you?
“Eat me?” Yuuji deadpanned, unsure if he should feel just bothered or hot and bothered. “I, well–”
No. Sukuna’s voice cut like ice through Yuuji’s mind. For a second, it scared him. It reminded Yuuji of what exactly Sukuna was. What he’d do. 
So what would you do?
“Hey,” Yuuji started, suddenly calm, serious. “Why’re you on Sukuna’s side? You don’t seem like a bad person.”
You took a deep second to think before sitting up and hugging your knees to your chest. Your tails curled weakly around your clothless frame, swallowing up any spot a young man’s curious gaze might wander in the secrecy of night. Maybe you’d been in this situation before. 
“‘Good.’ ‘Bad.’ We all have different definitions.” Your voice rattled and scraped out your tired throat, yet you didn’t look perturbed in the slightest. “I do what pleases me: garden, sew, eat. Sometimes, I may cause harm in the process. I care sometimes, and I don’t others. Does it make me evil to choose what I care about?” 
Yuuji’s head started to ache. He wasn’t sure if he could keep up with your fancy, archaic way of speaking, but he was sure as hell gonna try. 
The younger sat up, too, and ruffled up his hair. “I mean. Don’t you wanna try to, y’know, not hurt people? Not cause harm, ‘n stuff?”
“Is fire wicked? Or does it simply exist?” You posed. “In the control of man, it is sacred. It cooks food, illuminates the dark, cloaks you with warmth. Yet it burns down trees. Swallows homes. Devours crops. Kills.” 
You looked at Yuuji, rose-wrapped eyes resentful of something the sorcerer could not know. “Man regards fire as a blessing when controlled, yet it is a curse when it runs free with nature–existence, the black and white of the world, is in the eye of the beholder.” 
Yuuji didn’t like how much that made sense to him. Objectively, Sukuna was bad. He killed. He murdered for fun. He ate people–
Yet your words, your pretty way of speaking and philosophies gave Yuuji pause. It didn’t click, despite igniting grim sparks in the cogs hidden far behind his eyes. He already made his mind up about good and evil, yes and no, white and black, and yet–
You poked him in the forehead, between his eyes, and Yuuji blinked. 
“It’s merely food for thought, Yuuji.” Why did you know his name again? “Don’t burden yourself with making decisions or anything of the sort. I suppose my answer was long-winded in regards to your question.” 
“Yeah, kinda,” he laughed, rubbing his cheek. “But, uh…it helped, I guess.” Yuuji pulled your hand down from poking him. “You don’t think Sukuna’s bad,” he concluded.
“I think he was a force of nature.” Your head tilted. Your eyes softened. “A monster to some, a god to others.” 
“‘N to you?”
Your eyes caught the morning light, iris reflecting with waking embers. 
“He was everything.”
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Gojo thought you were pretty in the same way Getou was pretty; you were handsome with fine features, you radiated with odd power, and you spoke with unmatched poise and purpose it almost made the man’s ego swoon. 
But you looked tired as Getou had, too. Skin void of blushing warmth, eyes distant and hazy, dark circles pulling your gaze away from him. He didn't like it. It made him remember that cold hand ripping his heart to pieces. 
“Look who’s awake!” Gojo cheered as he sauntered toward you, hands in his pockets and a smile adorning his face. “Hungry? I could getcha some–”
“You were listening, were you not?” You wondered, running your bony fingers through matted fur systematically. Your split nails picked and clawed through tangles and knots thoroughly, as though it’d make a difference in your beat-up appearance. 
Gojo tilted his head before settling down in the seat beside your bed. “Hm? Me? Listening? To–”
“Yuuji and I.”
“Ah! You mean the night you snuck out to do some naughty, naughty things with my student?” 
You deadpanned fiercely, looking at him the way someone else used to. “Ha. Hm. Surely you jest.”
Gojo waggled his brows as much as he could, hoping they’d peek out over the top of his blindfold. “Hah, you think I don’t know what my sweet, precious Yuuji does behind closed doors? I know everything! I’m–”
“You misunderstand,” you cut him off, looking more and more concerned with each passing second. “You are a teacher? Why? How? This does not seem ethical.”
Gojo died. Rather, his pride did. Which was essentially his lifeforce. 
“What are you–okay, I’m just gonna chalk it up to you being cranky after getting woken up, alright? I’ll give you a pass. Just once!” Gojo nodded as a benevolent creature should. “You should thank me.”
“I’d rather not.” You sighed and returned to your grooming. “If you wish to interrogate me, I require food first. Tofu, specifically”
Gojo laughed. “Man, you are one high-maintenance god. Alright, you want normie tofu, or agedashi tofu?” 
You blinked and looked at him, curious. 
“Agedashi tofu?”
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You really liked agedashi tofu. You liked the little sauce it came with, you liked the other random shit Gojo bought to try and win over your compliance–well, honestly, he also just wanted an excuse to shower someone with the food and snacks he liked. It’d been a long time since he’d had the privilege to. 
“So,” Gojo said as he popped the marble into the ramune bottle for you and handed it over, “About you and Sukuna.” 
“Mhm?” Your eyes glittered in fascination as you took the drink and examined it from all angles, carefully tilting it here and there to watch the blue bubbles rise to the top as the glass ball rolled and spun in its tiny prison. 
Gojo almost lost his train of thought watching you, but he reigned it in quickly.
“Seems like you were close.” Were was important. You'd referred to the menace in past tense when speaking with Yuuji–clearly, you didn't realize the curse resided within the young sorcerer. Best to keep it that way.
You pursed your lips in thought for a moment.
“I suppose. Why?” 
“I'm just nosy!” 
“I know that already. But there exists intelligence behind your annoying behaviour.” Your gaze slid to him, staring through the veil of fabric and straight into his eyes. “You're a monster like he was, aren't you?” 
“Hah?! Rude!” Gojo whined, but regained composure just as fast. “Seems your intuition is pretty good, huh?”
“It's simply an understanding of nature.” 
“Is that what pulled you to him? His nature?” 
“No. I was given to him. As a gift. By a clan of sorcerers.”
“Huh. A gift.”
“Yes. The harvest festival required as much. He was revered as a godly creature. Something to be feared.” 
“And so were you,” Gojo guessed, and you frowned and looked away, instead picking through the treats and snacks brought to you. 
“The people saw us very differently.”
Sukuna didn't walk through the city below often–not until you decided you liked it down there. 
Finding out that you walked through those streets alone sent a trill of something unpleasant up Sukuna's spine; knowing you were alone, vulnerable and under the eyes of so many that so often cursed Sukuna and wished him dead made him…uneasy, maybe. You could handle yourself. Sukuna simply couldn't handle the disrespect.
But things weren’t as he assumed.
You walked through town, and the people revered you as they would Amaterasu incarnate. Most didn't address you, but all saw and accepted your presence with grace and kindness, nodding or flickering small smiles as you passed by with the king trailing behind. 
Sukuna could understand; you'd become something astoundingly breathtaking. Lush, full tails dipped and swayed as you walked with the poised elegance of royalty, the feeling only enhanced by the careful, intricate way you presented yourself in your attire. Sukuna knew you felt beautiful. You were beautiful. 
“It's (Name!)” A child cried, and Sukuna fought the urge to punt the little shit into the restaurant across the road when the tiny human grabbed at your clothes. 
But you smiled. You actually smiled when you patted the girl on the head and said your sweet hellos before ushering her along after her mother. The corners of your eyes crinkled for once, showing that, yes, you'd aged and felt joy and become so perfect because of it. And when you cooed sweet farewells to passing little ones, your fangs flickered against the colour of your lips, just for a second. 
Your gilded gaze caught his carmine stare, and you tilted your head. 
“Sukuna.” You held your hand out to him, and he took it. He had no choice. He was only human, and you were God. Walking through a city of mortals.
He let you lead on, wandering to the shops where you bought thread and fabric for your stupid little projects with money he didn't even know you had. You could have just taken everything you wanted, especially with the king stood right by your side, but you eased the shopkeeper's nerves with kind words and ample pay. 
Sukuna all but picked you up and launched you both back home the second you were done meandering. He had a job to do; he had to fully commit to siring a runt.
Now, Gojo didn't need to know all that, but it didn't stop your mind from wandering to that night; it was the first time he looked at you like that. It was the first time he decided against lording his power over you, instead holding you close and taking things slow. You missed it. You yearned for the night he stopped seeing you as a toy and saw you as you. The night he finally learned your name.
“They viewed me as something divine,” you continued, digging out of the warmth of memories. “Perhaps because I walked alongside someone like him.” 
“Well, only gods can walk through a volcano and come out unscathed, no?” Gojo smiled a bit as you looked away, embarrassed. 
“That's a poor analogy.”
“Eh?”
“How would one walk through a volcano? None would even think to get close enough to do so.”
“W-Wait–”
“You would be underground, would you not? With limbs melted, oneself ablaze? And one would not walk but wade through lava.” 
“It's just a metaphor!” Gojo wailed. 
“A poor one.” And you continued to pick through snacks, unbothered that you'd just destroyed the strongest man alive as you munched on cheese-flavoured rice puffs.
Gojo laughed, though. “I can see why he liked you. Supports the theory he's not the one who put you in the coffin.” 
“It wasn't him,” you snapped. Your ears flattened against your skull as you shrunk in on yourself. “At least…not directly.” 
Oh? Gojo leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees as he laced his fingers together.
“Then who was it? What happened?” 
“I don't fully understand it myself,” you confessed. Your voice was a whisper, cold and lonely like a far North winter. 
“Maybe I can help.” 
You looked to him and back down again. 
“There was a man. A sorcerer. I don't know his name–I never cared to learn it. He was odd.” You tore up little bits of hi-chew wrappers as you spoke. “He asked me if I would sacrifice myself for Sukuna.” 
“And?” Gojo prodded. 
“I would not,” you said. “Sukuna would never need my sacrifice, he'd never need my aid. He was the strongest.” A light frown tugged at the corners of your mouth. “That creature thought otherwise. He mentioned something about additional wombs, but I don't know what that means.” 
Fuck. Gojo nodded politely. “Gotcha, gotcha. What'd this guy look like? You remember?” 
“Unremarkable, save for the odd sutures across his forehead.” 
“Oh? Interesting. Alright, last question, my cute little kitsune–”
“(Name),” you cut in. “Address me as (Name).”
Gojo sparkled. “Waaah, I think our relationship just leveled up to A-tier! One more level and I can romance–”
“Please do not make me hurt you.” 
The white witch whined and deflated against his chair. “Boooring.”
You huffed and flicked your ear. “Ask your question, goblin.” 
Gojo took a breath before he spoke. 
“Are you with child right now?” 
The world changed suddenly. Seal papers coating the walls drowned in bones and flowers as the pungent sweetness of orchids and decay curled around Gojo. Around you, a cage began to rise, jutting out from the earth and encircling you like thousands of rigid arms holding you in an embrace. And your eyes–they shone with abhorrent divinity, outshining even the nine, pristine tails breathing with blackened fire. 
But there was screaming. Two voices intertwined. Little and distant, warped and outraged at–at something. Maybe Gojo? Maybe his accusations, his questions? 
Just when the sorcerer was about to act, your clasped a hand over your stomach, and you whispered with the thrum of a thousand voices:
“Be still.” 
It all moved slowly, then. The phenomenon–the apparent domain expansion–reversed, sinking back into the floors and walls with the soft sound of chittering and cooing taking the place of wicked screeches. You, too, cooed back to the twin voices, placating them with maternal ease. 
Your divinity faded with the last shreds of the illusion. Now, your colours faded further, painting you in desaturated tones of exhaustion and worry. Gojo hated that palette. It'd been used too many times on too many he doted on. God was stupid like that, creating such sad, worrisome colours.
The sorcerer took a deep breath in the silence of the room. He didn't know what to say, or how to say it. He was never good at this kind of thing. His other half was much better at this. 
But he had to try. The look on your face told him he had to try. 
What would he have done?
Gojo’s hand reached out as he leaned forward, and he caught your scarred, bony hand in his own. You didn’t pull away, you didn't fight him, you instead curled your fingers around his and held your breath while your gaze became unseeing, your heart ceased beating just as your breathing had. For a moment, you died.
“I'm sorry,” Gojo whispered. And you nodded. Somehow, he knew it meant, ‘me too.’ 
It was then, touching you, that he could feel the negative energy thrumming beneath a shell of divinity. Two different un-lives coiled inside of you, filled with bitter hate for man and undying love for their mother. For you. It wasn't unlike the bond shared between Yuuta and Rika, but this was not as simple. 
“Your ilk did not approve of Sukuna siring children,” you murmured. Your grip on his hand turned poisonous. “If you try to take them from me–”
“What'll you do?” He asked, knowing they'd never be born. 
“--I will turn everything to ash. Set fire to the skies. Just as I have once already.”
“Good.” Gojo smiled. “You'd be a good mother.” 
“I hope I one day can be.”
The masked menaced nodded again as he idly soothed his thumb across your knuckles. “Never say never, yenno? We'll figure something out for you. If you can do something to help the school–”
“I can give gifts. Once I have the energy.” You didn't sound like you did. Gojo wasn't sure if you ever would.
“Yeah? Like what?” He asked anyway. 
You looked at him, weak and defeated, yet still clinging to life. 
“My divine favour.”
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remusbutfemale · 7 months
Text
Theodore nott x fem!reader
Smut (18+ but yk I cant control what u read)
-choking? It’s mentioned once, finishing inside, barely any plot lols
Theodore was sitting in his dorm room, it was Christmas and his dorm was empty; just him.
He was supposed to go back home that day, but his parents would be a couple days late.
He was bored out of his mind, all his friends were gone, and the only people here were the people he never talked to; nor wanted to.
A knock on the door shook him out of his thoughts, confused he shouted “come in”. The door opened and yn came in, “I thought you left?” Theo asked, sitting up straight on his bed.
“Parents are gonna be late, assuming yours are too?” She asked and closed the door behind her and walked over to his bed. “Yeah, I don’t understand why they’ll be late— it’s not like they have any other shit going on” theo scoffed and laid his head back again, yn got on the other side of the bed, and laughed slightly, “always so dramatic, the weather is horrid— it’s kinda understandable they’ll be late, y’know?” Yn said as she fixed her sweatshirt, laying on his bed, facing him, closing her eyes.
Theo sighed and shrugged “I guess, it's still stupid though”, he turned his body and stared at her, she opened her eyes, staring back at him. Their eyes on each other's faces. Neither of them said a word; just looking, theo closed his eyes.
“C’mere”
He whispered, then opened his eyes. Yn scooted closer to theo, he stared at her some more “it’s been too long, and it’ll probably be our last— I need you Yn” he whispered. Yn blushed and shook her head “you're something else nott,” she murmured.
“What do you need?”
.
Yn was a whining mess as theo worked his fingers in and out of her, “pleasepleaseplease” she whimpered, back arching a bit, her sweater lifted up her body showing her breasts.
Theo stared at her smirking, slowly stroking himself; “what do you need?” He cooed.
“In me-ah!— want you in me! Please wanna make you feel— feel good” Yn stuttered out.
Theo moved in between her legs, then smirked as she looked at him, need in her eyes.
“Oh how could I ever turn my girl down? Want me that bad— how pathetic” he said, rubbing his tip over her slit. “Please” she whimpered out again, he shoved into her; she gasped, the gasp turning into breathless moans and pleads.
“Taking me so— fuck!- so well, good girl” he moaned, letting one of his hands go to her throat, lightly adding pressure; making her tighten even more. “Fuck— yn.. honey” he whined into her ear.
He was noisy, he couldn’t help himself; it was too much, it’s been too long since he’s felt her. He couldn’t stop the movement of his hips, going fast then slow, his movements jagged.
“M’so close sh-shit Yn— fuck” he whimpered breathlessly, his head in the curve of her neck.
Her arms were wrapped lazily around his neck, her legs around his waist; begging him to finish in her.
“Please theo— please need it so ba-agh!— bad please fuck.. wanna be full of you”
He was losing it, her moans and begging were getting to him. He grunted into her neck “keep begging— c’mon baby—fuck- beg for me, beg for my cum” he murmured, yn whimpered “please theo— need it so bad.. I wanna feel you! Please theo!” She whined; arching her back even more.
Yn came undone, her moans louder.
Theo groaned into her neck, finishing in her; letting his thrusts slow down. He slowly pulled out, watching how his cum slowly slipped out, “so pretty” her murmured staring at her body then her face, seeing how her face was flushed, how her breathing slowed.
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starleska · 1 year
Note
Hello again!! I'm the anon from before (and I'm glad to hear you had a nice time yesterday!!!), and here's what I wrote.. I've been thinking a lot about the 'Wally eats with his eyes' idea, as many have been !!! I'm not sure how to warn for what this exactly so feel free to tag it with whatever you deem necessary. Wally just. Likes you a lot lol. i guess this is a little silly but i had a good time writing it haha
You are having a staring contest with your friend Wally.
You can't quite remember who started this, or why. Just that Wally had wanted to draw somewhere outside and you tagged along with him, until you were sitting somewhere in a field of flowers around the Neighbourhood.
Wally simply returns your gaze, unblinking, his hands folded over on top of his sketchbook. You think this has lasted long enough. What you want to do is crack a smile or a joke, but you find that your muscles are frozen stiff, and your tongue is so, so heavy.
His pupils expand.
You're supposed to panic about being this frozen up. Moving shouldn't be so difficult. But it's like your body feels like even stressing out about this is too much effort. You feel warm. Your eyelids tremble with the effort to blink. There is no movement, though your eyes don't burn either. You've held them open for so long that the world starts to gray out around you.
His pupils expand.
Wally leans his head to the side, little by little. You mirror his movements without thinking. The tips of your fingers are tingling, your feet feel numb as if fallen asleep. He smiles at you even more than usual. You think that this makes you happy. His lips part slowly, as if to speak, and-
"Hiya, guys!" Eddie calls out from the path to your right.
Your body jolts in surprise, and the spell is broken. By the time you whip your head around to look, Eddie has already continued his delivery route without waiting for a response.
Your returned awareness feels like breaking the surface after almost drowning. A weight disappears from your body, and you practically double over, gasping for air. Your shoulders are shaking, your eyes wide. When you squeeze them shut, it burns. You feel tired like you never have before.
"That was good," Wally says. For a moment, you are hesitant to turn your head back and look at him. You want to hide from his eyes. But you snuff that thought out as soon as it pops up, because that's just silly. You must've eaten something wrong, or have caught a cold. What else could explain this.
You look at Wally. He looks normal, and his eyes upon
"W-what did you say?"
"I asked: Are you feeling good?" Wally speaks even slower than he otherwise would, but his smile is as wide as ever. "You don't look good, friend."
"I don't… I'm a little out of it," you force out a laugh. "I think I'm getting sick."
Wally leans forward.
"You'll be okay," he says, and puts a hand on your knee. "Let's sit here until you feel better."
!!!!!! anon!!!! anon do you know how good this is?!?! oh my gosh!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭 honey, i cannot express how much i adore this fic. it's such a wonderful blend of terror and intimacy, so frightening and claustrophobic yet warm and safe in a way you can't understand...ugh, i'm in love 🥴 your descriptions are so vivid - i could really feel Your panic and nausea. some real Lovecraftian horror stuff going on in here. and oh my God the little detail of him saying, 'That was good' and then switching to 'Are you feeling good?' absolute chills!!! 😱😱 if you feel comfortable enough, you should absolutely post your writing somewhere!! you've got such a talent for writing, Wally in particular, and i'd love to read more of your stuff should you be inclined. i'll definitely be taking some tips from this awesome little fic going forward 😉 thank you so much for sharing 🥰
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Text
Good Fences (Fluffuary #04)
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FEB04: Cheering Them Up
You had a boyfriend.
Keyword: had. 
Getting broken up with in the middle of the night was one thing, but having it be over a text message (all lowercase, no punctuation) was a whole new low. You knew it wasn’t going to last, but the suddenness of it was dreadful, as were the personal criticisms he decided to throw your way just to rub salt into the wound. 
your bodys just not doing it for me anymore
we could still hook up if you want just hmu
but not in bethesda obvi lol 
You weren’t sure what possessed him to say those things to you, but you had seen enough, so you blocked him.
Tear-stained and angry, you went outside to get some fresh air. You wrapped your blanket around you and stared up at the stars, trying to move on from that asshole as quickly as possible. 
Suddenly, you heard John’s sliding door open up. You turned to look at him, and he seemed just as startled to see you there. 
“Oh, hey… Hey,” he furrowed his brow, “What’s happened?”
You sniffled, trying to find your voice,
“Got dumped.” 
“What? Just now? It’s midnight,” he sat next to you, “Did he just leave?” 
You shook your head, dreading having to admit to the fact that you hadn’t even deserved a capital letter much less an in-person visit,
“Text message.”
You passed over your phone to let him experience the drama first-hand. As he read the messages, his face grew increasingly dark, almost scary. You couldn’t help but notice his attire while he read, and you felt insane for doing so. He was in running shorts and a cut-off tee shirt with some rock band’s logo fading and flaking on the front. You were supposed to be sad, but now you couldn’t stop staring at his very visible and extremely muscular arms and abs.
“You’re joking,” he handed you back the phone in disbelief.
You shook your head again and looked down at the tissue in your hands, trying to come up with something to say. 
“What a fuckin’ wanker.”
You laughed, nodding, and he cracked a smile. You let his voice wash over you like a salve, healing the hurt another man had caused, 
“Well, this calls for a bloody drink, don’t it?”
“Don’t think the bars will be open by the time I make it out,” you joked. You weren’t going out anywhere tonight. 
“Wait here,” he said, ducking back into his apartment.
He reemerged with a bottle of Scotch whisky and two glasses, pouring one for you and then one for himself, each equally generous. 
John tinked your glass and drank. You followed suit, albeit a bit more timidly. 
It burned. Then it spiraled into oranges and vanilla and honey. And then it burned again. You tried not to, but you made a face, and said,
“Wow, it’s good. Thanks.”
“Strong, hm?” He purred softly, pleased with his choice.
“Yeah, but still good,” you insisted.
“Don’t worry about those messages, love. Your body is doing wonders just how it is. He wants your reaction.”
You tried not to let the compliment linger in your mind for too long, but it was stuck in there like popcorn in your teeth. 
“I know,” you admitted, “And I wasn’t going to marry this guy or anything, but…”
“Still hurts.”
“Yeah.”
John was clipping and lighting a cigar to have with his drink, and you watched him as he worked. He still hadn’t bought that ashtray he’d promised, but he was using an old glass bowl for now. He smoked for a bit, sharing it with you wordlessly. Then, he took a long breath and gave you a droll look.
“What is the difference between a condom and a coffin?”
You laughed before he even gave you the punchline of the joke, shocked by its crudeness,
“What?” 
“You come in one and leave in the other.”
“John!”  
He snickered, listening to you laugh, turning a little red in the face as he did so. 
“Alright, alright,” he prepared another one for you, “What can you spell with P, E, N, I, and S?”
You raised your eyebrows at him, and shrugged, 
“Penis?”
He scoffed, 
“Spine, you filthy thing.”
You stayed outside talking and telling jokes long enough to see the black starfield give way to a pale pink morning, and before you knew it, half a bottle of whisky was gone. John had certainly worked his magic in you, and by the time you said goodnight and climbed back into your bed, you’d forgotten why you’d even been wasting your tears on a jerk like that in the first place.
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ohmyeyesmyeyes · 9 months
Text
what if i have big boobs and a small heart?
luke hughes x f!reader social media au
warnings: swearing, use of 'manwhore', allusions to sex
fc: steph bohrer
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liked by markestapa, trevorzegras and 791 others
ynofficial: j-dog strikes again
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colecaufield: HEART, NOT BOOBS 📢
ynofficial: let's all bow down to preacher jack🧎
colecaufield: he's my summer entertainment
dylanduke25: you'll have to excuse my brother in law's behaviour, he does this sometimes. you just have to reset him by giving his fake tooth a wiggle
ynofficial: 💀
lhughes_06: duker what happened to the definitions?
dylanduke25: 'forgetting' - a failure to recall information
liked by lhughes_06
trevorzegras: i think i just pulled something trying not to laugh
lhughes_06: jackhughes you know it's bad when z points it out
_quinnhughes: i can confirm that was my live reaction
markestapa: my my he's done it again
ynofficial: my friend my pal my buddy
markestapa: YOU TALKIN TO ME? YOU TALKIN TO ME?
ynofficial: well who the hell else am i talking to
markestapa: we're really funny
ynofficial: the pranks? the laughs?
markestapa: between me and you?
ynofficial: ah!!!
edwards.73: YOU'RE ON VACATION WITHOUT ME?????
lhughes_06: you're in nj????? at dev camp?????
edwards.73: SEMANTICS
ynofficial: if it helps it's only duker, gavo, me, luke and mark now
edwards.73: it doesn't
ynofficial: you'll get over it😘
jackhughes: fuck
ynofficial: brace yourself. i'm never letting it go
_quinnhughes: he could do with being taken down a few pegs
lhughes_06: and what better way than a future s.i.l with no contractual obligations?
ynofficial: you make it seem like i'm unemployed
lhughes_06: you know you could be...😘
ynofficial: I DON'T NEED YOUR MONEY OKAY
ynofficial: I DON'T NEED TO RELY ON A MAN FOR FINANCIAL AID
lhughes_06: aid???? YOU'RE MY GIRLFRIEND I LIKE TAKING CARE OF YOU
markestapa: rare otp crumbs 😲 
dylanduke25: OTP OTP OTP
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liked by edwards.73, jjmccarthy and 873 others
ynofficial: but what happens if i have big boobs and a small heart jackhughes?
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nolan_moyle: immediately that is incorrect
ynofficial: TREAD CAREFULLY MOYLE I HAVE BOOBS OKAY
nolan_moyle: i was in fact ☝️not talking about your boobs
markestapa: i'm honoured to be featured but you're the biggest liar in the world
dylanduke25: THAT GIRL IS A SOFTIE
edwards.73: well spoken
ynofficial: i will have you know that i am NOT a softie 🤨
_quinnhughes: i beg to fucking differ
ynofficial: QUINN YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO HAVE MY BACK
_quinnhughes: then i'm switching sides
ynofficial: 😨
jackhughes: I WAS HAMMERED THEN OKAY.
jackhughes: also you probably have the biggest heart out of everyone i've ever met
ynofficial: shut the hell up i do not
markestapa: to answer your question though, i think you'd just be a baddie
ynofficial: are you saying i'm not a baddie then
markestapa: you're a different kind of baddie honey 💛💛
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liked by ynofficial, tyler_duke and 43,183 others
lhughes_06: an appreciation post for the biggest baddie with the biggest heart
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markestapa: you missed the boob part
lhughes_06: dude
ynofficial: mark has a point, do i not have boobs?
ynofficial: ample?
lhughes_06: i don't know how to answer that on social media
dylanduke25: ample: large and accommodating/plentiful
lhughes_06: LET'S ALL STOP TALKING ABOUT MY GIRLFRIEND'S BOOBS
jackhughes: are you jelly?
lhughes_06: you're the last person who gets to ask me that after what you just said
jackhughes: have a little brother they said 😐 you can bully him they said 😐 it'll be fun they said 😐
_quinnhughes: i'm literally living proof of that not being true wtf are you on
adamfantilli: question 🤔
lhughes_06: oh dear
adamfantilli: are cheesy speeches genetic? or was it a fluke?
lhughes_06: i think i'm offended
_quinnhughes: ouch
trevorzegras: LOL 😛
ynofficial: i had that thought and with experience luke usually says 'fuck shit up' and quinn says 'expose their weaknesses, flash luke, i'll point at the ocean to distract mark and then spike the ball. also, if we win, i'll buy you alcohol for the next month'...so jack is probably the fluke
bradytkachuk: i can confirm this is true yes
colecaufield: that does sound pretty accurate
trevorzegras: _quinnhughes YOU BRIBE UNDERAGE CHILDREN WITH ALCOHOL?????
_quinnhughes: i also know a lot of your secrets and i happen to be incredibly persuasive 😬
trevorzegras: was that a threat?
ynofficial: YES LMAO
edwards.73: so in conclusion, y/n is a soft baddie and the boob thing is inconclusive????
ynofficial: i totally forgot about the point of this post
lhughes_06: love to know my efforts go unrecognised ❤️
ynofficial: i don't have to show it on social media 😘
lhughes_06: tis true 😊
rutgermcgroarty: OTP 📣 OTP 📣
markestapa: private but not secret will always have my heart
luca.fantilli: he says swiping at the photos of them making out and shoving them in both luke's and y/n's faces telling them how cute they are and that they should post more couple content
markestapa: how tf do you know what i'm doing
luca.fantilli: there's a groupchat
markestapa: WITHOUT ME IN IT????????????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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lhughes_06: this is how we do ☀️😎
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jackhughes: 😎🫣🔥🤝
_alexturcotte: court marshaled
g.brindley4: Behaviour.
ynofficial: hot hot hot
lhughes_06: all you you you
markestapa: flirty flirty flirty
trevorzegras: baby hughes is smooth smooth smooth 😮‍💨
jackhughes: 🙄🙄
dylanduke25: is pitcure #1 proof that boobs do indeed win?
g.brindley4: YNOFFICIAL WAS TAKING THE PIC SO YES!!!!!
edwards.73: luke hughes boob guy confirmed 🤫🤫
ynofficial: your curls will be the death of me
lhughes_06: 😊😊😊😊
matthewknies: they'll be the death of me too 😔
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ynofficial: just told these 4 goobers that they've all been 'so bf' recently and luke walked away from me, mark literally FROZE and eddy and duker just...got it
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ynofficial: side note: luke heard me tell this to mark and i've never seen the man look so ready to punch his friend before
markestapa: i was about to use my pims to defend myself
ynofficial: channel your inner rocky
markestapa: NEVER BACK DOWN NEVER WHAT
edwards.73: i think sometimes you should back down and go home
ynofficial: 😧😧
lhughes_06: in my defence, i was in the middle of playing golf
ynofficial: which is ridiculous because it was literally dark
_quinnhughes: yeah i don't remember still being there in the dark
ynofficial: that's because...
lhughes_06: no
lhughes_06: stop don't
jackhughes: now that i think about it i don't remember still being there either????
ynofficial: erm
dylanduke25: ew so you and luke were on a dark golf course with a buggy by yourself????? you disgust me
ynofficial: WE WEREN'T DOING THAT
lhughes_06: we were chatting shit but now that you mention it, thanks for the idea
jackhughes: 🤮🤮
_quinnhughes: don't pretend like you haven't done worse mr hot tub time machine 🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮
ynofficial: i can never watch that film again
edwards.73: me and duker are just 💪 that 💪 good 💪
dylanduke25: PERIOD 😤😤
ynofficial: it's true, you are
nolan_moyle: nblanks98 you look so bf all the time
ynofficial: yk what i think you're 10000% correct with that nolan
nolan_moyle: thank you 😊😊
nblanks98: aw 🥰
umichhockey: admin would like to agree with you
liked by ynofficial
jackhughes: have i been 'bf' lately?
ynofficial: you've been more 'manwhore' lately
_quinnhughes: ynofficial you're my favourite non-hughes
lhughes_06: when i marry her will she be the favourite hughes?
_quinnhughes: out of my siblings? absolutely
ynofficial: i'm SO honoured
ynofficial: _quinnhughes also you've been very bf lately, i don't tell you often
_quinnhughes: it's the hoodies isn't it?
ynofficial: and the fact that your cuddles are just *chef's kiss*
jackhughes: i give good cuddles too i'll have you know
lhughes_06: jackhughes you're not coming near her with a ten foot pole
ynofficial: you do jackhughes
ynofficial: what
lhughes_06: what
ynofficial: jack's given me hugs before
jackhughes: yeah
lhughes_06: why
ynofficial: he broke up with his girlfriend????
lhughes_06: JACK HAD A GIRLFRIEND?????
_quinnhughes: WHEN WAS THIS???????
jackhughes: ynofficial thank you for that
ynofficial: i'm so sorry oops
markestapa: you've been so gf lately
ynofficial: thank you bestie
edwards.73: what does that mean?
ynofficial: (i don't know)
lhughes_06: should i be threatened right now? i don't feel it but i feel like i should be iykwim
669 notes · View notes
poopwons · 4 months
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**Break My Heart**-Ft. Jean Kirstein 18+ MDNI!!
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Synopsis: You and Jean break up, he doesn't know what to do with himself. Maybe you'll call him? (surprise, you will)
Content: (NSFW), F!Reader, Jean’s POV, post break up feelings, angst, cursing, depressed Jean, pet names, handjobs, fingering, praise kink, Jean has a teensy bit of a size kink, collaring (if you squint), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, people), cream pie, hair pulling, light alcohol consumption
a/n: I have never written anything this long before, but I got the idea in my head and it would not get out so, here it is. I was literally driving home from work listening to Olivia Rodrigo and Happier came on, so that's what inspired this 🥰 Huge shoutouts to @jeanboyjean and @cowgirlikets for encouraging me through this entire process!💜💜💜 ***also I know absolutely nothing about plumbing, so sorry if all of that is completely inaccurate LOL***
words: 6.9k
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Two months, four days.
That’s how long it’s been. That’s the last time Jean saw you in person, talked to you at all. Sure, he’s wanted to reach out, he’s gotten drunk a few times and Connie had to wrench his phone out of his hands when he saw your name on the screen. Jean had yelled at him, tried to push him off, but Connie ended up with the phone, locking it away before helping Jean to bed. All in all Connie was looking out for him more than anyone else. That’s what good roommates are for, right?
Though, Jean is sure that Connie never expected to ever see his friend like this. Hell, Jean never thought he’d be this way; he never even thought of the possibility of the two of you splitting at all. The first week after you told him you didn’t want to keep seeing him, he stayed in bed, blaring awful sad songs, just wallowing in his own self pity. He supposes he still is, even months later.
The days without you have slowed to a crawl. He still thinks about you all the time, it takes all his will power not to scroll through your instagram, wondering if you’re thriving without him, or if you’re just as fucked up as he is. He doesn’t want to know, he’s not that desperate yet. Still, thoughts of you plagued him every moment it seemed like. Who does he make breakfast for now? Making a single serving for himself just seems.. pathetic, pointless, in comparison to making something for you.
The two of you had a great routine, his favorite, he thinks. You’d wake up, curled in his arms, peppering little kisses to his face, trying to wake him up. He’d groan at you before running his hands to your sides to tickle you, calling you a menace for disturbing a man’s sleep. The little giggles he’d pull from you were his favorite sound, he’d never heard anything better. Then he’d get up, make coffee and breakfast for the two of you while you showered. Sometimes he’d say fuck the breakfast and shower with you instead. Hot water cascading down the two of you, the smell of your shampoo in his nose as he kissed the back of your neck while washing your hair. Fuck. He needs to stop. Think about anything else, he curses himself, his brain can’t keep doing this to him, can it?
But, turns out, it can. Who makes your tea the way you like it, muddled with honey and a splash of cream? Who else knows that you only want earl grey when it’s raining because that’s what your mom would give you when you came inside from splashing around in puddles when you were little? That you want chamomile when you’re sick, and coffee most mornings, unless you’re anxious, then you want English breakfast. Who knows the way you order your meals from your favorite restaurants? That you don’t like water chestnuts because “they’re too crunchy without enough flavor”, or that you hate fast food lettuce but will completely devour the caesar salad from the diner downtown because you say the lettuce is always “the perfect amount of crisp and never soggy”? What does he do with all this little information that he’s learned about you, that’s now completely useless to him since you’re not here?
Connie managed to drag Jean out to go have lunch with him and Sasha the next day. It’s the first time he’s been out in weeks for something other than work. He’s dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, the most he can manage with how exhausted he’s been. The little chain that you picked out for him draped across his collarbones. He likes that memory. You dragged him into a jewelry store, showing him the necklace, saying something about how you thought it’d look good on him. He was never much of a jewelry person, but for you? He agreed, but only if you’d get a matching bracelet, and you did. You said it was your favorite, you loved it so much, and it went on like that, the two of you, in your matching pieces, wearing them everyday…
“Jean,” Connie breaks him out of his thoughts, he wonders if he could tell that he was thinking about you again.
“What,” his tone is flat, nothing like his usual light hearted one.
“Dude, don’t you think you should take that off?”
Jean looks down at his chain, then back at Connie, a frown plastered on his face.
“No, I don’t want to take it off.”
“Look, man, I know you’re still upset, but.. doesn’t that make it worse?”
Jean can’t stand the look of pity he’s getting, he shrugs and doesn’t reply. Take it off? And then what, get rid of it? No. No, he can’t get rid of it, you got it for him. It would be like throwing you away.. and he’s just not ready to do that, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be.
Sasha kicks Connie under the table, the two of them had clearly talked about how to handle today and it seems like Connie is going off script. Jean can’t take it anymore, he can’t stand the way his friends are looking at him, he wants to look anywhere else. So, he does what he’s been trying to avoid. He pulls out his phone, opening up your instagram. You haven’t posted in a while, but there is one new picture. Jean’s heart lurches into his throat when he sees it. Who is that? Why is he with you? He’s never seen this guy before and he doesn’t like it, right down to his stupid green eyes, that idiotic man bun, and that shit-eating smile plastered on his face, like he’s mocking Jean without even trying. The picture is innocent enough, a selfie with his arm around you. But why is he touching you? Why are you letting him? Did you really move on this fast? Did you forget about Jean already? Is this the real reason you ended things with him, for this other guy?
He hears a faint grunt from across the table, then Sasha is talking to him, he hardly hears it, the blood is rushing in his ears. Connie snatches his phone from his hand, Jean can’t even find the energy to snap at him. Connie groans when he sees the screen.
“Shit, man… I was hoping you wouldn’t see that.” Connie practically winces when he meets Jean’s eyes, tears welling up in them. His voice breaks when he finally speaks up.
“Who is that with her?” He sounds like the world has been ripped from him.
Sasha speaks up from her side of the table, having seen the post as well. “I don’t know.. maybe they’re just friends. Don’t overthink it, it’ll be okay.”
He sends a pitiful look her way, it most definitely would not be okay. He takes his phone back from Connie, rising from the table, hell bent on getting back home. His brain is going a mile a minute thinking about you and.. whoever that was.
Two months, fifteen days.
He stays in his room all week. Barely leaving, laid up in bed scrolling through your entire instagram. All the pictures of you and him are gone. He can’t believe you got rid of them, did you delete them off your phone entirely? Were all those pictures slowly being replaced by new ones with this guy? He hates the thought of this stranger taking up camera space that should be his. He knows he shouldn’t.. looking through this idiot’s instagram isn’t going to make him feel any better, but he has to know why you chose him instead.
He swipes through this guy’s pictures, he’s even got a stupid name. Who spells their kids' name Eren? There aren’t a ton of posts, but the few that Jean does see has him rolling his eyes, gym selfies and photos of him playing a guitar, his long hair flowing down his shoulders. Great, so he’s ripped and talented. Jean’s not out of shape by any means, but he isn’t as cut as that, especially since he’s been skipping the gym the past couple of months, unable to find the energy to go, and he definitely can’t play any instruments. Maybe he should learn, would that impress you enough to finally reach out to him? No, that would take way too long, he wants to hear from you so much sooner than that. Maybe he can start growing his hair out.. would you like that? You never complained about his hair before but, this whole thing has thrown him for a loop. He’s questioning everything about himself wondering what Eren has that he doesn’t. Maybe Eren’s better in bed? No, that can’t be it. You never once complained about Jean’s performance, all those pretty sounds you made when he touched and kissed and sucked at all the right spots. No, he definitely knew what he was doing in that department. So, that can’t be it, which almost makes it worse. That must mean Jean failed you in some other way as a partner. Was he not attentive enough, not supportive enough? Did he not make enough time for you? Maybe he should have tried to plan more dates. The thoughts go on and on like this until he finally falls into a fitful sleep, what little dreams he has are plagued with you laughing at Eren’s stupid jokes, of you being happier with Eren than you ever were with him.
Jean is sitting up on the sofa in the living room, Connie had begged him to at least come out of his room so he knows the poor guy’s still alive. Jean is scrolling through yours and Eren’s pages, checking yet again for any more posts.
“Dude, seriously? Are you looking at that guy’s page again?” Connie asks, as he sits down on the couch with a bowl of cereal.
Jean gives him a noncommittal grunt, before shoving his phone in Connie’s face. “I mean, what does she even see in him? He’s not that good looking and he has stupid hair. He probably can’t even play that guitar.” 
Connie gives him a sympathetic look, he knows it can’t be easy for Jean to see you with someone else, but it’s been almost three months since you two split. All the same, he’s Jean’s friend, he can’t always tell him what he wants to hear, right? He sets his bowl down with a sigh, bracing himself for what he’s about to say.
“Come on, man. He looks like a decent enough guy. I know this is hard for you, but don’t you want her to be happy?”
“She’s supposed to be happy with me! Me, not this fucker with a guitar, who’s side are you on, anyway?”
“I’m on your side, you know that, but this is nuts, she’s just a chick. You’ve been hung up for almost three months. You need to get back to the shit you used to do. When was the last time you even went to the gym? That used to be so important to you. You should go back, get some endorphins going, that would make you feel better.”
Jean huffs, Connie just doesn’t get it. He gets up off the couch and walks over to the entryway, pushing his shoes on. “She’s not just some chick, dude.” He spits the words out before walking out the door. Maybe a walk would clear his head. He knew in some regards, Connie was right, he hasn’t been taking the best care of himself lately, but his “just a chick” comment has Jean seeing red and he can’t focus on any of the other rational things Connie’s said.
He walks and walks until it gets dark outside, when he finally gets home he scarfs down a protein bar and flops down in bed. Closing his eyes and drifting off relatively quickly, worn out from the walk, maybe he should go back to the gym, he thinks, if a walk has worn him out so much. He doesn’t know how long he sleeps for, but the buzzing from his night table lulls him out of sleep. Bleary eyed and groggy, he picks up the phone staring at the screen. He must be seeing things. Or he’s still asleep and this is a dream. He sits up abruptly, rubbing his eyes, looking at the screen again. Sure enough, it’s your name that’s up on the screen, the phone is still buzzing in his hand as he stares at the caller id. It finally hits him that if he doesn’t answer it’ll go to voicemail and you might not call back. He fumbles to swipe his finger over the answer key, almost dropping his phone in the process.
“Hello?” Jean tries to make his voice sound calm and not rushed, despite the fact that his heart is practically beating out of his chest over something as simple as a phone call, at the prospect of actually hearing your voice for the first time in months.
“Hey, uh, it’s me. Well, duh, you probably know that.” Your voice sounds just as angelic as he remembers and part of him thinks he might cry right on the spot. “um, listen, I didn’t know who else to call, I-I know it’s late.”
“No, no, I’m uh, I’m awake. Wha-what’s up?” He hates how nervous he sounds, but he can’t help it, even his hands are shaking. 
“Can you come over? There’s like, a leak in my apartment, and the office is closed, I just don’t want to lose my deposit. I’m sure they’ll find some way to blame it on me and not their shitty plumbing. I mean.. Obviously, if you’re busy, it’s okay, I can figure something else out.”
So, you’re calling him to come help you, not Eren, interesting. Jean feels over the moon, maybe Eren isn’t all he’s cracked up to be after all. 
“No, I’m not busy, it’s fine. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Just try to soak up all the water you can.” Jean says as he scrambles off his bed, going to the bathroom to check his hair in the mirror, smoothing some parts that got ruffled in his sleep. He looks at his shirt, cursing silently that he’s still wearing this sweaty t-shirt. He puts you on speaker and quickly pulls the fabric off, throwing it in the hamper.
“Thank you so much, you’re really doing me a huge favor.”
He pulls a fresh shirt over his head, the shirt getting caught in his frantic movements causing him to have to talk louder than normal, so you can hear him over the muffle of the fabric, “yeah, it’s no problem, I’ll be there soon.” He’d do you a million favors if it meant he got to see you. You hang up and he slips on his shoes, rushing out the door to get to your place with his tools.
Jean’s heart is hammering out of his chest the whole drive to your place, it feels like his body is vibrating with anxiety. He’s practically white knuckling his steering wheel, his brain just going and going. He finally gets to see you, he’ll get to see you. He hopes you’re wearing his favorite pair of sweats. He always thought you looked so cute in them, so comfy and cozy. Excitement is starting to bubble in, until he thinks, oh, god. What if he’s there? What if Jean has to see you and Eren together in person, in a situation where he can’t just walk away. Oh, fuck, why didn’t he think about this before? He was just so excited to hear your voice, to see you, that he wasn’t thinking. If he has to see this idiot touch you right in front of him he thinks he might punch him. That would not look good on him, you’d probably even get mad at him, that’s the last thing he needs. He pulls up to your apartment before he knows it, punching in the gate code that he still has memorized, begging and praying to whatever good karma he’s drummed up in the universe, that Eren fucking Jaegar is not in your apartment with you.
He knocks on your door, fussing with his hair a little as he bounces on the balls of his feet, unsure what to do with all this nervous energy. When he hears the lock disengage he pulls his hand away from his hair as fast as he can, trying to look as casual as possible, like he hasn’t thought about you every second of every day for the past three months.
“H-hi,” you answer the door, obviously feeling a little uncomfortable with this whole situation yourself, but he doesn’t know if it’s the same kind of nerves he’s having or something else. But fuck, you look so pretty, so so pretty, with your hair draped over your shoulders in loose waves, the way you always wore it before, wearing a crew neck and some shorts. 
“He-” Jean’s voice cracks, it fucking cracks. Seriously? What, is he sixteen again? He clears his throat and starts again, “Hey,” 
You let him in, and he gets enveloped in your smell, he practically sighs as he breathes in the familiar comfortable scent of you and your things. He didn’t know you could miss a person’s smell this much. He looks around expecting to see the place how he remembers, but he’s thrown off when everything looks different. You’ve rearranged all your furniture. Thankfully, though, you’re the only one here, there’s no sign of another guy having been here at all. He lets out a little sigh of relief, following you into the kitchen where sopping towels are littering the floor. 
“I just came home from work and found it like this. I don't know what happened.” you say, waving your arm to the floor.
“Well, let’s just see. I’m sure it’s just a loose rivet or something,” Jean walks past you, trying his best not to let your proximity as he does get to him, fighting the urge to just take you in his arms and not let go. That’s not why he’s here, you didn’t call him for that. He’s thankful that you called him for an actual task, something for him to focus on so he’s not just staring at you, he’s afraid if he stares too long he’ll snap.
You stand in the kitchen with him while he patches everything up, it’s an easy fix, just like he thought. A baby with a wrench could fix this, so again, his mind drifts back to why you called him and not Eren, not that he’s complaining. He thinks it all feels very domestic, you watching him fix up things around the house. He’d fix everything you asked him too if he could hold onto this feeling. He’s surprised when you crouch down next to him, trying to see what he’s doing.
“It was loose, right here, I’m just tightening it up.” He smiles as he looks at you briefly, he can’t help it, you just look so pretty and you’re right next to him, right where you belong. 
You smile back at him and he feels his heart lurch again, turning the wrench a little more, satisfied with his work, he catches your eye, “and that should do it, you should be all set now.” 
He stands up, wiping his hands on his pants before offering you a hand up. When you take his hand he bites back a smile at the feel of your hand in his again after so much time, even if it is a harmless interaction. Standing up with him, you don’t pull your hand away right away, lingering there for just a second too long. Did he imagine that? No, no you definitely lingered. 
You brush a strand of hair behind your ear and smile at him sheepishly. “Thanks again, I really appreciate it.” God, your smile is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.
“It’s not a problem, I don’t mind helping you.” Jean runs a hand through his hair, rubbing at the back of his neck, looking away from you, still nervous. He knows the whole reason he came is taken care of now, and he doesn’t want to leave, but he thinks that’s what you might want. 
“So, I should–”
“Do you want–”
You both speak at once, sharing a nervous chuckle. Jean lets you go first, giving you a look that says so.
“Do you, um.. Want a drink?” You look nervous, awkward. Surely he’s imagining it, he doesn't want to get his hopes up too high. “It’s the least I could do, calling you over here on a Friday night. I’m sure you had better things to do.” You give him another shy smile and he swears he could melt into a puddle right there.
“Uh, sure. Y-yeah, a drink sounds good.” 
“All I have are those hard seltzers I usually get, that okay?” you ask like you expect him to remember, and he does. He wants you to know how much he remembers about you; everything, he remembers everything. 
So, just drinks for yourself? No beer, no liquor, nothing he thinks a guy like Eren might drink. Interesting. So far, everything he’s observed has led him to the conclusion that maybe you and Eren aren’t together. Maybe Sasha was right, and the two of you are just friends?
“That’s fine,” He bends down, putting his wrench away, placing his tool bag on your counter. Turning back to look at you, the slim can in your hand as you hold it out to him. He takes it, following you over to the couch where you both take a seat next to each other. 
His body feels like it’s vibrating, sitting this close to you. You didn’t have to sit this close, but you did. He pops the tab, taking a drink to calm his nerves, and you do the same. 
“So, how have you been? It’s been a while.” You speak so softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear again, a nervous habit. Are you feeling the same tension he is? Is he making it all up because he missed you so much?
“Uh, good, good.” He lies, what is he supposed to say? That he’s been completely miserable without you? No, if he’s wrong and you have moved on, he has to at least pretend he’s been doing alright. “Work is, well, work, you know. Haven’t been doing much else. What about you?”
“Y-yeah, no, things are, um, they’re okay. I finally got promoted at work.” you smile at him again, before taking another sip. “I’m officially management.”
Pride swells in his chest, he knows how badly you wanted to move up in your job, how much you craved more responsibility. He’s glad your place of work is finally acknowledging your potential.
“Hey, that’s great. I’m really happy for you,” and he is, genuinely. “Is it everything you wanted it to be?”
You give a little snort, “I mean, I guess. Workplace drama is a lot more stressful when you’re actually the one in charge of trying to defuse it, instead of just listening to all the gossip.” 
“Well, I’m sure you’re handling it fine, you were always good at that kind of stuff.” 
You huff a little laugh again, thanking him before pulling the sleeves of your crew neck up while adjusting your position on the couch. That’s when he sees it, that little glimmer of silver on your wrist. His heart pounds harder as he sees it. You’re still wearing your bracelet. You still have it. 
“You’re still wearing that,” Jean points out, his voice coming out little more than a whisper, like he just can’t believe it, his eyes locked on the bracelet.
A blush blooms across your cheeks and Jean is positive it’s not just the alcohol. Fuck not getting his hopes up, you wouldn’t still be wearing something he got you if you didn’t miss him a little bit. 
“Oh, yeah..” you fiddle with the bracelet with your free hand, “I um.. I feel a little naked without it, you know?” you cheeks are still flushed as you look up at him. 
Jean just smiles at you, “yeah, I know what you mean.” he says as he pulls the chain out from under his shirt. “I got so used to wearing it everyday, it just doesn’t feel right with it off.” It’s not even a lie, just, not a full truth. His nerves are slowly fading away, getting replaced with renewed hope.
“Well, it does still look good on you,” you reach your hand up to run your fingers along the chain, Jean feels a jolt of electricity in your touch that practically lights his skin on fire, and that’s when he really knows. There’s no way you’d be touching him like this if you didn’t miss him, if you were seeing someone else. He’s never felt so much relief in his life. “Suits you, for sure.” 
He takes his hand placing it over yours, goosebumps prickling his skin where your fingers dance along the chain. “You..um, you have good taste,” he says, his breath turning a little shallow, he knows he’s not imagining all the tension that’s been slowly building up since he got here. “I never would have picked anything like this for myself.”
Your hand is so small in his, he’s always been bigger than you, taller, more muscular. He didn't realize how much he missed it until now, he was so caught up with missing all the other parts of you that this bit seemed to have slipped his mind. You’re looking at him with your pretty doe eyes, letting him hold your hand, he can practically see the hearts in your eyes, looking at him like you used to. Fuck it, he’s going for it. Drinks completely forgotten on the coffee table as he scoots a little closer to you, just enough so that your knees are touching.
“I’ve really missed you.” He whispers, leaning in just a little closer, he hears your breath hitch in your throat, your eyes flitting to his lips. 
He smiles as you lean in too. You want it just as much as he does. “Me too..”
When he finally presses his lips to yours he almost explodes with happiness, he’s feeling giddy, all these pent up feelings pouring out into your lips. He cups the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss, swiping his tongue over your bottom lip, a silent request for permission. He sighs as you grant it, opening your mouth for him so he can glide his tongue along yours, and you moan into his mouth. You fucking moan. He loses any semblance of control he had. His hands move, roaming over your back and the two of you lose yourselves in the moment. Without really thinking about it he pulls you onto his lap, moving his mouth to press hot kisses to your neck, nipping the sensitive skin. It always was one of your favorite spots. His hands run under your sweatshirt, caressing your back, savoring the feel of your soft skin under his palms.
“Missed you so fucking much.” Jean breathes out between kisses, groaning as you grind your hips onto his lap when he kisses your neck again.
“Missed you too. Thought…Thought about you all the time…” Your words are broken up by little gasps. Jean thinks he could die happy, just like this, but then your hands go to the hem of his shirt, pulling it off, running your hands over the contours of his chest and he feels like he’s going to burn out of his skin.
His hands follow suit with yours, pulling your sweatshirt off, discarding it on the floor next to his, drinking in the sight of you, sighing when he sees your bare chest. Running his hands over your tits, kissing his way down your neck and your collarbone before taking one of your nipples into his mouth and starts kissing and sucking, pinching at the other one with his free hand. You arch your back into his touch and he moves his hands back around your waist, pulling you closer to him. He just needs you closer, so much closer.
You just grind against him, he can feel the heat coming off of you, listening to your breath get more and more ragged as you wrap your arms around his neck in order to get closer, pulling his head up. 
“I’m sorry. Jean, I’m so sorry.. I never should have–” your voice sounds broken, despite the desire and need coursing through the both of you. It breaks his heart to hear you sounding so sad. You don’t even have to explain what you’re apologizing for, he already knows. 
Jean cuts you off with a kiss, running his fingers through your hair, shushing you softly. “It’s okay, it’s okay.” He soothes, pressing soft kisses between his words. “Later. We’ll talk about it later, yeah?” He pulls back, pressing his forehead to yours, looking in your eyes with all the love he has for you. 
You give him a feeble little nod, kissing him passionately. Your tongues glide together as you taste each other, making up for lost time, and god, does he want to make up for it. With that in mind, his hands move to the plush of your ass, squeezing as you keep your lips on him. As much as he doesn’t want to push you away from him, he needs to touch you. He runs his hands over your bare thighs before hooking his fingers into the waistband of your shorts, pushing you back just enough so he can get the leverage he needs. Tugging them off, you lift your hips to help him. He looks down and sees you clad in lace, one of his favorite pairs. A brief look of surprise as his brain sorts through it. You… you planned for this, at least to some degree. All doubts completely leave his head as a satisfied grin curls on his lips. 
“You wear these just for me, baby?” He murmurs into your ear as he nips at your earlobe, fingers already dancing along the sides of your panties. 
You give him another nod and a breathy little sound that he assumes, if you were able to form the words, would be a confirmation. He pushes the material aside, running a finger through your folds. Shit, you're so fucking wet for him. He’s going to lose his mind. His finger swirls around your clit, eliciting moans and gasps from you. You’re already starting to squirm for him and he doesn’t let up, still swirling little circles with the pad of his finger. 
“J-Jean,” you moan out his name and cling to him, holding his head tightly to your chest. 
“‘M right here, baby, I got you. You gonna be a good girl and cum for me?” 
“Y-yes, yes, yes, fuck!” He feels your legs shaking on him, still moving his hand. God, he missed seeing you like this. 
“That’s it, that’s my girl. That’s my good fuckin’ girl, did so well for me. ” He purrs into your skin, pressing kisses to your neck, giving you a second to catch your breath.
Turns out you don’t even want a breather, your hands moving desperately to his lap, frantically trying to undo his buttons, slipping your hand in and wrapping around his cock. 
“Fuck,” Jean groans under his breath, lifting his hips with you still on his lap, so he can shove his pants down enough for you pull him all the way out.
Your hand pumps him, smearing the precum over his flushed tip, causing him to suck in a sharp breath. You keep working him, your hands are always so soft, twisting your wrist a bit on the way up, squeezing the tip just a little. He loves the way he looks in your hands, your smaller ones making him look even bigger. His eyes catch a little glimmer, and he groans again when he sees you jerking him with your bracelet bouncing on your wrist with your movements. All he can think about is that you’re his, you're his, you're his. That one little accessory tells the whole world. Maybe he’ll replace it with a ring. He leans forward, burying his face in the crook of your neck, taking a shaky breath.
“Shit, you’re makin’ me feel so good, but I don’t… fuck, I don’t want to cum like this.” He pulls back to look in your eyes, seeing nothing but how good you want to make him feel and he doesn’t know what he did to deserve you. 
He pulls your panties to the side again, lifting you up, lining himself up with your entrance and pulls you down onto him. Jean thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. He has never felt anything better than you wrapped around him like this. You both let out audible moans, as you adjust to him. Without any warning, you start bouncing on him. His eyes roll back as he drops his head to the back of the couch. Your bounces are slow, deliberate, he’s sure he’s in heaven.
“You feel so good. Love how full you make me feel.” You murmur, breathy, into his ear, bracing yourself on his shoulders. 
As much as he’d love to just sit here and bask in you riding him, he’s going to cum way too soon if he lets you keep going like this, especially if you keep using that mouth of yours to whisper everything he’s been wanting to hear for the past three months in his ear. He moves his hands back to your ass, grabbing handfuls of you, doing the work for you for another second or two before he wraps his arm around your waist he starts fucking up into you. 
“Missed my pussy so much, baby. She’s mine, yeah? That’s what this means doesn’t it?” He growls, taking your wrist, adorned with your bracelet, showing it to you. “That’s why you never took it off? Been mine this whole time haven’t you?”
Your walls squeeze him, as you hear his words, and he groans again. “All yours, Jean.. al-always yours.”
In all his desperation to get close to you, to get inside of you, he didn’t think your panties would cause a problem, but at this point they’re in his way, they won’t stay to one side. He moves his hand, gripping the flimsy garment, and pulls hard, tearing them.
“Jean!” You protest, looking down at where the two of you are connected.
“I’ll buy you new ones,” He mutters before he picks up his pace, finally able to fuck you the way he wants, slamming his hips up into you. 
You don’t seem to care so much anymore, as your eyes roll back, and you let out a cry. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, moving to bury your face in his neck. And for Jean, right now, that just won’t do, he wants to see you, wants to see your face contorted in pleasure. He brings his hand to the back of your neck, tugging your hair so you’re looking at him. 
“Look at me, baby, wanna see you.” Shit, he already feels close. Not having you for all these months, and finally getting you, getting to see in your face how good he’s making you feel and how much you missed him too. He didn’t think he was going to last long anyway. He brings his lips to yours, kissing you hungrily, all tongues and teeth. 
“Ba-baby, ‘m close,” you whine, eyes glazed over, face scrunched up just the way he likes. 
“Me too, cum with me, yeah?” His hand snakes between you, finding your clit, rubbing circles on it with his thumb.
He feels you clenching around him, cunt pulsing and god he missed this feeling, missed feeling you come apart just for him. You say his name again and again like a prayer and he just can’t hold back anymore. 
“Fuck, baby, I’m shit–” He tries to warn you so you can get off of him, but you just stay put, slamming down on him again and again. He cums hard, painting your insides white. 
Still holding onto you tightly, one hand on your neck and the other around your waist, you both just stay locked in an embrace, panting. Each of your heads are resting on the others shoulders, Jean presses little kisses there while he catches his breath. 
“God, I really did miss you so much.” He whispers into your skin. “And not just this, all of it. I missed all of you.”
“I know, I missed you too. I wanted to call you or text you, or anything. I just…didn’t think you wanted to talk to me.” Your fingers toy with the hair at the nape of his neck and he just savors the moment. 
Neither one of you moves, you just sit there holding each other. You haven’t even gotten off of him yet, his cock going soft inside you, feeling his cum leak out onto his lap, but he couldn’t care less. He just runs his fingertips up and down your back tenderly. 
“You really scared me, you know that?” Jean says when he finally feels like breaking the silence.
You lift your head, giving him a puzzled look. “What do you mean? How did I scare you?”
Jean sighs, it sounds stupid now, in hindsight, thinking that you had moved on. “I thought you were dating that Eren guy. You posted a picture with him and I kind of freaked out.”
It seems like it takes a second for his words to register, because you’re quiet for a moment before you burst into a full fit of laughter. Jean just gives you a pointed look. He doesn’t see what’s so funny about that. You’re laughing so hard you practically roll off of him, landing on your side on the couch, your legs still draped over him. He follows suit, cuddling you when he gets onto his side. 
“What’s so funny?”
You finally stop laughing long enough to answer him. “Eren? EW.” you manage to get out before you start giggling again. “He’s like a brother to me, we grew up together. I haven’t seen him before that post since he left for school. You really thought I was dating Eren??” 
Jean’s cheeks flush, a little pout forming on his face. “What was I supposed to think? He was way too close to you in that picture.”
Your laughter subsides, and you brush some hair out of his face, giving him a soft smile. “He just took me out for the day because I was so sad about you. I felt like I’d made a big mistake, and he just wanted to get my mind off of it for a little while. Besides, even if he wasn’t like a brother, he’s been in love with the same girl from middle school since he was like, twelve years old.”
You look like you have more to say but you’re hesitating. Clearly feeling a little nervous, he just nudges you gently, wanting you to continue.
You take a deep breath before going on, “I am sorry.. I shouldn’t have broken up with you, and for such a stupid reason.”
“What was the reason, exactly?” He asks, he never actually got the full story.
“I just… I liked you too much, things were going too well. I guess I kind of panicked, wondering when the other shoe was going to drop.”
Jean just stares at you, of all the reasons he thought it was, he didn’t think it was this.
“So… you broke up with me, because things were going too well?”
“It sounds stupid when you say it like that!” You bury your face into his chest, hiding your blush. “I said I was sorry.”
“What if there’s no other shoe? What if we’re just good together? Did you think about that?” He asks, no malice or hurt in his voice, just genuine curiosity. He presses a little kiss to the top of your head, trying to soothe you.
“There’s always another shoe.” You mutter, not bothering to lift your head up.
Jean sighs, taking your chin in his hand, pulling you up so that you’re eye to eye with him. “Baby, I promise, I will do everything in my power to ensure that there is no other shoe, okay? You have a problem, just talk to me. Let me be there for you, let me try and make things better. I’m not saying everything will be perfect all the time, but just know I’ll try my damndest for you.” He presses a kiss to your lips, sealing his promise. 
“Yeah.. okay,” you finally give him another smile, and he kisses you again, unable to resist. “So, can I be your girlfriend again?”
“As long as you promise not to break up with me for such a stupid reason ever again.” He smiles at you again, pressing another kiss to your forehead before pulling you back into his chest.
“Promise,” you mumble as you nuzzle into him.
Jean’s happier than he’s been in months, with you in his arms, right back where you belong.
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