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souliebird · 2 days

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[[and then I met you || ch. 21]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

chapter masterlist

Words: 4k

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“Ahhhh.”

You open your mouth wide so Doctor Minnie can shine her flashlight down your throat. She hums and haws as she peers in, looking for who knows what, and when she concludes her search, she scribbles on your chart. Your chart is a piece of notebook paper with a wonderfully drawn crayon portrait in the corner, your name carefully written out across the top, and timestamps with detailed notes of each check up you have received today. These notes include squiggles that could be interpreted as cursive and the letters a, m, and q repeated over and over.

“You needs to drink more water and puts the towel on your ear,” your daughter tells you seriously. It is the same treatment you have gotten all morning, so you are well prepared for it.

“Thank you, Doctor.”

Minnie gives you a big smile, then whirls around to bark orders, “Nurse! We needs more water! Please, thank you!”

Matt is on the other side of the coffee table, sitting cross legged as he manipulates pipe cleaners around popsicle sticks. He and Minnie have been working on an art project for the better part of the morning - between your hourly check ups. He got his own checkup this morning and earned a band-aid on his cheek, but your daughter has been obsessed with making sure you are okay.

You are in no way complaining over her dotting - you more than understand this is how she is coping with what happened and you are more than happy to receive fake shots and orders to stay sitting on the couch. Whatever makes her feel safe and happy.

You know her father feels the same way.

He raises himself into standing, the smallest smile forming on his lips as he falls into his role, “Yes, Doctor. How many ccs?”

Minnie rubs her chin in thought, and you have to bite your lip so you won’t start laughing. She’s been so intense playing doctor, and you don’t want to discourage her. You are worried any teasing might upset her and that is the last thing you want to do at the moment, especially given the circumstances.

She finally decides on a number and declares, “Six!”

“Six ccs of water coming right up,” Matt tells her. He plucks your still half-full water bottle from the coffee table and starts towards the kitchen. Mouse watches him go, squinting her little eyes like she’s either judging him or trying to remember something.

Apparently, it is the latter, as she gasps, then calls after him, “And appy juice!”

Matt gives a dramatic gasp and turns to face the both of you, “And appy juice? Are you sure, Doctor?”

Minnie giggles, clearly amused by her Daddy’s antics. There’s a difference between teasing and playing along, and Matt is king at being Mouse’s partner in crime. You’ve seen a different side of your daughter come out when she’s around him - a little bolder and more sure of herself - and you want nothing more than to encourage that.

“It’s for me!” Your little one says between her laughs and that makes Matt smile brighter.

“Ah, a drink after a hard day's work. Six ccs of water for Mommy and one appy juice for the Doctor.”

“What do you say, Mouse?”

“Thank you, Nurse!”

As Matt gets your drinks together, you help Minnie out of her Doctor’s coat and you fuss with folding it as she starts to put her check-up toys back into their bag. She must be getting tired if she is asking for her juice, but she looks completely alert and like she could keep playing for another hour or so before slowing down. She woke up at her normal time this morning, but at some point in the night she wound up in your bed. You don’t blame her at all for that.

You’ve been on your own roller coaster of emotions this morning.

You woke up in a cold sweat - memories of being strangled flying through your mind - and the only thing that had been able to calm you was Matt’s arm around you. It helped to keep you grounded - remind you that you weren’t alone and that you were safe.

(“I love you.”)

No one can touch you or your baby if he is there and it isn’t some hindbrain ‘man protect woman’ nonsense.

Matt is a superhero in the most literal sense.

He has powers and an armored suit and fights bad guys.

It is hard to wrap your mind around and you have so many questions, but you both agreed to wait until Minnie took her nap to talk. This isn’t a conversation you can have over her head.

Minnie finishes picking up her toys just as Matt returns from his task. He lets her climb up onto the couch and settle against your side before handing over her juice. Your water gets placed on the table and you thank him before turning your eyes to your daughter.

“What do you want to watch, sweetie?”

“Penguins,” she answers, right before starting to nurse her juice. You found a video about the life of penguins that is toddler friendly a few days prior and it is quickly becoming a favorite. The documentary is a nice change from the cartoons that usually make up your television time and you are fine to watch it for the upteenth time.

Matt takes his place on Minnie’s other side, practically squishing her between you, and the three of you begin to quietly learn about the flightless tuxedo wearing birds. The video is a little less than thirty minutes long and by the time it is wrapping up, Mouse’s chin is on her chest, and she is snoring. In a silent agreement, you let Matt take care of putting her into bed for her nap. Though he has done it a few times now, he still cherishes the moment in a way you no longer do.

Your heart beats a little harder when Matt and Minnie disappear down the hallway. Your stomach swirls with anxiety over the talk you know is coming - though in a strange way you are not scared. You trust Matt to tell you the truth, but you are not sure you want to learn those truths. Doors you never even knew existed are opening to you and part of you wants to stay naive to the ongoings around you, but you know you can’t do that.

This is part of Matt’s world, and if he wants to be in Minnie’s, you need to know everything about it.

As you wait for Matt to return, you close your eyes and try to take a few deep breaths. It does nothing to calm your heart or mind, but it gives you something to focus on. You do not want to work yourself up by overthinking - that would just make things worse for everyone. So you count to five between inhales and exhales until you hear the door to the bedroom close.

(“I love you.”)

It feels like you stop breathing until the cushion beside you dips.

Your anxiety is flaring - your throat feels so tight and there is so much pressure on your chest. You know there isn’t a reason for your body to be reacting like this, but you don’t know how to stop it. You feel like you are trapped under your own worries, and you can’t escape.

“You’re terrified,” Matt says in a dull voice from beside you and you have to pry your eyes open to look at him. He looks so resigned and neutral, and your heart manages to pang for him between being crushed.

You don’t know what he could possibly be going through - you are finally alone with him, and your mind has decided you need to have an anxiety attack. Does he think you think he’ll hurt you or something just as ridiculous?

You may have only known Matt for a short time, but you trust him. He hasn’t done anything to break that trust and he has shown you he cares. He sat with you in the hospital and stayed with you after until he knew you were okay to be on your own.

He’s gone out of his way for you on so many occasions.

He’s made you feel safe.

Wanted.

Loved.

(“I love you.”)

Your mind is spinning and panicking and everything is so intense, but your mouth, as always, decides to work without permission.

“Will you hold me?”

The words shock you. You’ve never asked anyone to hold you - you generally don’t like to be touched - but when Matt’s arms are around you, the world seems a little more stable.

Matt seems just as taken aback as you are over the request. It takes him a moment to act, but then he chokes out, “Of course,” and opens his arms to you.

You turn towards each other, you bringing one leg up to tuck under yourself, and slot together. Your arms go around his middle and you press your face into his neck, while one of his hands goes to your hair to hold you in place and the other starts rubbing up and down your spine.

The relief is almost instant.

You release a long shaky breath and nuzzle yourself closer to him. He smells like your body wash and coffee, and he feels so solid against you. You feel like a shield has wrapped around you and nothing can get to you - not the all the day to day things you worry about like bills and messages you need to respond to nor all the evil things that lurk in the shadows.

For once in your life, you feel like you're not alone.

“I’ve got you,” Matt breathes into your ear and you believe him.

“You’ve got me,” you repeat into his shoulder. You can hear how watery your voice sounds and you tell yourself you won’t cry.

(“I love you.”)

You fall into a brief silence - you need a moment to recenter yourself and Matt seems to realize that. You feel him press a kiss to the side of your head as he continues to pet you and you have no idea why that helps to soothe your nerves. You let your eyes fall shut and focus on only him.

Once you don’t feel like you’ll get choked up if you start talking, you ask, “Is it okay if we talk like this?”

“Perfectly fine with me,” he whispers against you and you decide to just dive into it.

“You’re Daredevil.”

“I am,” he confirms.

“Will you tell me about it? From the start?”

You feel Matt take a deep breath and to offer him some sort of comfort, you curl your fingers into his shirt, holding onto him a little bit tighter.

“After I lost my dad and went to St. Agnes, they didn’t know how to deal with me. I didn’t have control over my senses, and I was angry at everything. I still don’t know how, but they found a man, Stick, to come help me - to teach me how to be Blind. He taught me more than that. He focused my senses, showed me I had control over them and how I could use them. And he taught me how to fight.” Matt’s words are steady and firm, but you can feel his heart pounding against you.

You absorb the words, a frown forming on your lips, “he taught you to fight? As a child?”

He sighs against you, then nods, “Yes. Stick believed there was a war coming between the Hand and the Chaste and they needed soldiers for the Chaste. I’ll…I can tell you more about that later.”

“Okay.” You want to know more about whatever the Hand and the Chaste are, but you can tell that is an entirely different conversation. One you aren’t quite ready for, yet.

“Stick taught me how to fight and how to use my senses to my advantage. He taught me how to channel my anger. My…my grandmother used to tell me the Devil was in the Murdock boys. And it’s true. I have the Devil in me - all my anger and rage. Stick taught me control. Then he left and I was angry he left, but I kept up my training. I didn’t need to enroll in martial arts classes to be able to learn - I could do it from blocks away. The boxing ring my Dad used to train at let me come in and use the mats and bags and I just kept at it.”

“Were you able to practice with people?” You ask. You know learning things in theory is way different than learning for practicality and fighting doesn’t seem like something you can just know in theory if you are a superhero.

Matt chuckles into your hair, “I got into a lot of fights in the schoolyard. I didn’t put up with bullies and no one wanted to admit I kicked their ass, so I never really got in trouble.”

With what you know of Matt and his personality and sense of justice, that makes perfect sense to you, and you say as much. He kisses your hair again before continuing on.

“When I reached college, I could…understand all the things I was hearing. All of the crime. I did everything I could - legally. I called the cops, I made reports, but more often than not, nothing ever happened. It made me angry - so angry - but my dad never wanted me to fight with my fists. He wanted me to use my head, do things the right way - so I tried. I really tried. For years. Then Foggy and I decided to start our own firm, to help the people in Hell’s Kitchen, really help them, and I couldn’t anymore. I couldn’t listen to the cries of kids being abused by their parents and people getting mugged and my city, the city I love, being poisoned. So, I let the Devil out.”

“And became Daredevil?”

“I did not choose that name,” Matt huffs, “But yes.”

You don’t remember much from when Daredevil first started appearing on the news - you were pregnant the first time you saw him, but you couldn’t pinpoint it. You have no idea what he was doing then.

So, you ask.

“How? How did you let the Devil out?”

Matt doesn’t answer you right away. He noses at your hair and traces his fingers up and down your spine and you have the feeling he’s thinking over his answer.

“I went after all the people poisoning my city. Not just the muggers and abusers. The drug and weapons dealers. The corrupt. There was a man named Fisk who was trying to take over the city, turn it into something it isn’t.”

“I know that name,” you say against him, “I read about it. There were…two cases? Legal ones.”

“Yeah. It was…complicated. It is complicated. We went against him as Nelson and Murdock and I went against him as Daredevil. He’s in prison now and he’ll be staying there,” Matt tells you and you have the feeling you will have to have a whole different discussion about Fisk in the future.

“But what about now? You are still out there fighting.”

“The city still needs protecting.”

It does, you know it does. Your attack is proof of that. You don’t want to think about it and the hands around your throat, so you press your face more into Matt’s neck and force yourself to fast-forward through the memory to something relevant to your current talk.

“You work with other…superheroes?” You ask. “Like Frank?”

“Frank isn’t a superhero and neither am I,” Matt scoffs, “But yes..I’m…learning to work with others. It’s not something I’m used to yet.”

“Tell me about them.”

He hums against you, then starts slowly, “You met Frank. He’s…we don’t get along. We have very different philosophies about how things should work, but he’s a good man. I’d rather be with him than against him and…I trust him to protect the people I care about. He’d fight tooth and nail for Karen - he has, and if I had to choose someone, besides myself, to protect you and Minnie, it would be him.”

Again, you believe Matt. From what you have seen of Frank, and not the Punisher, you think that trust is well earned. If Matt trusts him, you think you should too.

“And there’s Jessica. She is a private investigator and….very strong. Luke is also strong and..uh..bulletproof. He’s dating Claire, who you also met, she’s a nurse who got wrapped up in everything and helps when we get injured. And then Danny and Colleen. They are…” he trails off, like he’s unsure how to describe them and you do not push. You can’t imagine having to describe superheroes.

“What about Foggy and Karen?”

Matt shakes his head, “I try to not involve them in Daredevil things, but it ends up overlapping. They want to help, but I want them to be safe.” He pauses and you can feel him swallow, like he’s nervous. “I tell them everything, though. I used to think I had to keep my lives separate - one as Matt Murdock and one as Daredevil. I’ve tried to live as only Matt and I’ve tried to live as only Daredevil, but neither worked. I’m still finding the balance of living as both, and they help me. They give me rules to follow, make sure the plans I come up with are sound and that all options are considered. That is what I want with you. I want to be open. I want to be able to tell you everything and not keep secrets. I have seen what that does to people in my life and I don’t want that with you.”

You take in his words and let them mull over in your mind.

You can’t ask Matt to stop being Daredevil - you know you can’t. You heard what he said about why he needed to be Daredevil, and you understand that. He can’t sit by and do nothing, and by what he is telling you, he’s trying to be smart about it. He works with people to protect the city - to protect you. Yes, it scares you about all the risks he is taking and how they will translate into your life, but ultimately, the decision is his. If he wanted to keep you in the dark about everything, it would be a different story, but he doesn’t seem to want that. That makes it easier to accept and process - having as many pieces of the puzzle as you can helps you see the whole picture.

You shift slightly in his arms, tucking yourself even closer to him, and ask, “What are you working on now? With Frank?”

Again, he doesn’t answer right away. You let him think over his words as you process. Your anxiety has definitely decreased - you feel like you can breathe and that things are going to be manageable. You can speak with Foggy and Karen and get their perspective on things and it can help you come up with a game plan.

Having a plan is step one in everything being okay.

(“I love you.”)

“Jess, Frank, and I are…,” Matt starts slowly, “trying to help some street kids. They live in the sewers and don't trust the System or cops, but a few of them have gone missing and one has been killed, and they are scared. There's been guys in suits lurking near one of their hang outs and they don't appear in any government database, so we've been trying to track them down.”

Horror runs through you at his words. Someone has been hurting kids? Minnie’s face flashes through your mind and you press yourself closer to Matt.

“Street kids?”

“Mostly teens,” Matt amends. “I gave them information about St. Agnes but I more than get why they don't trust it. The System is horrible. The sewers are the only place they feel safe.” You feel him lick his lips again, then to your surprise, his voice changes from serious to almost fond. “They have a tent city. They let us come down there and bring supplies last week. Blankets and food and stuff. Frank got them a cellphone, so they'll be able to contact us if anything happens.”

Your mind spins at the idea of a bunch of kids living in the sewers. You knew it happened - New York is full of homeless people - but you never thought about it before. Guilt plagues you and you can't help but ask, “Can we help in other ways?”

Matt shakes his head, “Not in the ways you are thinking. We're going to find these guys and put a stop to whatever they are doing and right now that's the best we can do for them. They don't want to come up to the surface and if we try to force them, they'll move and still be in danger. After they know they can trust us and we put a stop to what is happening, we can start the next steps.”

“You'll protect them?” You ask, wanting to hear him say it.

“The kids may be under the streets of Hell's Kitchen, but they are still mine to protect.” His arms tighten around you, and you feel yourself melt against his chest, “And you are mine to protect.”

(“I love you.”)

“How do we protect you?” You ask, wanting to help in some way.

“Like this,” he hums, his fingers tangling into your hair a bit. “By reminding me what I am fighting for. Giving me a reason to live. I’ve been in the depths of Hell, just wanting to give up - give my life over to the Devil and go until my body stopped. I’ve been bloody and broken and alone. I don’t want that again. I want to be here with you. With Minnie. You’re my reason to get back up.”

(“I love you.”)

You press your face flush against his neck, your cheeks heating up at words. “Should I get a better first aid kit? Take CPR classes?”

He chuckles against you, and you feel it vibrate down into his chest, “That wouldn’t be a bad idea.” He pauses then tells you quietly, “Minnie has seen me in my armor, but I’m going to be doing my best to avoid getting injured in a way she can see. I have been working more on my defense - something I never really practiced.”

At the mention of your daughter, you pull back so you can look Matt in the face. Talking where you don’t need to look at his face has been helpful in calming your anxiety, but when it comes to Minnie, you need to look him in his sightless eyes.

“Are you going to train Minnie -”

“No.” Matt cuts you off before you can get the question out. “I’ll teach her how to cartwheel and other fun things, but I will never teach her to fight. I think everyone should take a defensive course to learn to get away, but I don’t want her to punch. I don’t want this anger inside of her. Minnie doesn’t have the Devil in her, and I won’t be the one to put him in her.”

You search his face and know he is telling the truth. You want your daughter to grow up to be a good person, to have as much passion as Matt does about helping the world, but the idea of her suiting up and fighting crime terrifies you. You are glad Matt feels the same way.

“Will you teach me?” You ask after a hesitant moment. “I was pretty abysmal at defending myself.”

He raises his eyebrows at the question, “You want to learn how to defend yourself?”

You shake your head, then lick your lips before dropping your voice just a touch, “I want to protect the people I care about, too.”

Matt tugs you forward gently until your foreheads are touching. You close your eyes again and let yourself start to smile.

“I’ll teach you whatever you want to learn.”

(“I love you.”)

a/n: we're over 100k words :')

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#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #and then i met you

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peachysunrize · 1 day

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The Ballad of a Dragon ⥃ Modern!Aemond Targaryen

Summary: after an argument with your husband, you find him playing his frustration away and eventually apologizes to you on top of his piano.

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, angst, fluff, p in v, oral(F!receiving) fingering, Aemond eats pussy like a champ, both parties are so petty, post argument/make up sex, hand kink, body worship, Aemond knows how to work with those fingers, he plays piano👀 tell me if I’ve missed something. English isn’t my first language<3 no beta...

Word count: 3.15k+

A/n: so this pure filth is based on this post, and @barbieaemond motivated me to write it! So thank you, my love, and thanks to Aemond’s long fingers for being a great inspiration to write a hand kink fic. I’m also taking a little break from writing for a month or so<3

“You just came home, Aemond! We had a reservation for tonight that you missed, you arrived at midnight from work and now you are taking a call to go and fix Rhaenyra’s stupid mistakes again?” You groan, pacing around your bedroom with Aemond burying his face in his hands, sitting on the bed in front of you.

“I can’t just turn a blind eye to them when they need help!” He explains, raising his voice a little. He is frustrated beyond words; work has been hectic lately and the company’s responsibility has fallen on his shoulders, forcing him to carry the weight alone.

“You’re already half blind, it wouldn’t hurt to close your other eye and ignore them for once!” You know you shouldn’t have said that, but you’re fed up with all the negligence, nights staying up just for him to either sleep in his office or crawl into bed at four in the morning.

It isn’t his fault mostly, it’s the pressure his father, siblings, and Otto put on him, but you wish he would say something and stand up for himself.

“That was a very low blow, wife,” he says through gritted teeth, glaring at you as he puts his elbows on his knees, “I can’t let her mess up everything we have worked so hard for! This company will be ruined if I don’t fix Rhaenyra’s fuck ups!”

“It’s not your responsibility, Aemond! It’s hers! It’s her mistake, it’s her fucking fault! I shouldn’t be begging my husband to make time for me, his wife, and spend some time home! You reserved the table, you told me to get ready because you wanted to take me out on a date! I’m just glad I didn’t go to the restaurant myself or tomorrow’s headlines would have been worse for your reputation than Rhaenyra’s mistake can ever be.”

“My work is my priority! This is my family’s business, do you know what that is? Family? Because by the way you’re acting, I’m not quite sure you have the slightest idea.” He stands up as well, running his fingers through his hair as each word falls from his lips and you feel the sting of each one in your chest.

“I can’t believe you, Aemond. How can your work be any more important than your wife?! How? I get it, you’re this tough guy, knight in shining armor always trying to get on your father’s good side and want his praises. I get it, you’re desperate for his affection. But what about me? I spent hours getting ready for my husband, just for you to treat me like trash! I left my family because of you, Aemond, and I would do it a thousand times more because I love you. Although I can’t say the same about you.” You know it was a pathetic move to get a rise out of him, but after what he said, it’s only fair to treat him just as he is treating you.

Tears sting your eyes as you look at how red he has gotten, knowing that you’ve woken up the hot-tempered dragon inside him. Good, he needs to feel ashamed and angry for how small he made you feel with each mean word that he said.

“You think I don’t love you anymore?” He asks, his voice barely above whispering, but you hear him perfectly and see how rapidly his chest is moving with the deep breaths he is trying to take.

“No, but I can’t deny that I’m doubting it. You put work over the family we created together, over your wife, and you want me to accept it without complaining, without telling you how much I miss you and how it hurts to be apart from you while you constantly choose your work over me!” You sob, putting your hands on your hips as you turn away from him. Even the sight of him makes your heart clench.

“I’m working my ass off for you to be content with your life, to have enough money to waste on petty and unnecessary stuff—“

“Don’t you dare guilt trap me, Aemond Targaryen! Don’t you fucking dare make me feel bad for wanting to spend time with my husband!” You nearly scream at him, tears now falling freely from your eyes as you turn around to look at him.

Even at this moment, he looks so beautiful — silver hair shining under the dim light of the room, his white shirt unbuttoned a little and his sleeves rolled up, showing off his toned forearms. If you weren’t so mad at him, you would have jumped on him the second he walked through that door.

“I can not control my siblings! They are idiots, sure but do you have any idea how bad their actions can destroy everything we have worked so hard for? I need to go because my father called.” he tries to reach for you, but you pull your hand away from him, taking a step back because you can’t bear him trying to sweet talk his way out of this like he always does. You shouldn’t let him minimize your feelings.

“Your father or Otto? Did he say if you save Rhaenyra’s ass, you would become Viserys Targaryen’s favorite child? It looks as if his affection is worth more than our marriage.”

“Stop with this nonsense, you know it’s not!” he glares at you, his pupil blown with rage. How could you ever think like that? Did he truly drive himself away from you to the point that you doubted his love for you?

“Do I, Aemond? Do I? Because instead of apologizing to me you are telling me how your work was more important than not showing up for a date you organized! I felt so beautiful, Aemond, so happy that after such a long time my husband was going to come to pick me up and spend the night with me! Now I just… I just feel so fucking stupid for getting my hopes high.”

You watch him take a deep breath, shaking his head as he marches out of the room swiftly, not bothering to spare a glance at you. He is frustrated, you get it, but to leave in the middle of an important argument like a child being denied a candy is pretty immature of him.

You sigh and wipe your tears, walking towards your wardrobe to pull out one of your sheer nightgowns, changing into it to sleep in something comfortable while your husband's side of the bed gets colder by the second.

The sound of music fills the house gradually, taking you by surprise. The last thing you expect is to hear your husband’s favorite classical piano piece echoing within the walls, and you halt in your steps, guilt creeping inside your chest as you listen to the distant sound of the piano before you grab your robe and walk toward the playroom.

You find the door open already — the orange hue of the lights illuminates his silver hair and sharp jawline, his eye is closed while his fingers move in rhythm, each finger pressing the right note on the tempo, and you can see the frustration and tension leaving his shoulders the longer he plays.

Nocturne in C-sharp minor fills the air around you, and you remember how he played this the first time the two of you met; it was filled with so much laughter and excitement as he gushed about his love for classical pieces, how hard he tried to regain his posture and strength while he lost half of his eyesight. You guess you fell in love with him at that very second he sat behind the piano in the instrumental shop.

Your gaze falls on his hand, long denty fingers moving with grace, pressing the keys one by one, and you lean on the doorframe, fidgeting with the hem of your robe while you rub your thighs together, the images of how those same fingers have given you the most blissful orgasms ever flooding your mind.

You watch him pushing the pedals down, his eye following the path of the notes he has memorized on the keys, and you keep admiring his ethereal form. Sometimes it feels unbelievable to be the wife of such a beautiful and otherworldly man, to be this lucky to call yourself Mrs. Targaryen, yet, there are moments you recall how everyone told you that the same name comes with a curse, that Targaryen men are ambitious and cunning. They are right on both matters.

The slickness between your thighs gets worse the more you stare at him and his skillful fingers move as if this is the easiest piece known to mankind with how smoothly he is playing it.

He plays the last note, sighing softly as he retrieves his fingers from the keys, turning around to look at you with an easy smile on his thin lips.

“Thought you had left before I heard you playing,” you say, matching his smile, growing a bit nervous with how his eye drinks the sight of your exposed thighs.

“I had half a mind to do so,” he replies, extending his hand to show he wants you close, “C’mere,”

You push away from the doorframe, walking to where he is sitting before trailing your hand over his extended arm, his large palms coming to rest on your waist. He looks up at you, fingers gently massaging your back.

“I’m sorry, I…”

He shushes you, pressing a kiss to your stomach before placing his chin on the soft flesh, “I should apologize. I didn’t realize how terrible I was treating you. You are my priority, I should have treated you much better.”

“I…I was in the wrong too. It was very pathetic of me to act so desperately, I know how much your work means to you—“

“No, no,” he stands up, caging you between his body and the piano, forcing you to sit a bit on the keys, a not-so-great sound coming out of the instrument, “You aren’t desperate, and even if you are, you do have a great excuse for it. I neglected you for a job that can be done by anyone.”

“It was a petty argument anyway, I’m sorry for being mean. I miss you so much, that’s all,” you say, gasping when he picks you up so effortlessly by the back of your thighs, putting you on top of his royal piano before he takes home between your legs.

“I miss you too, sweetheart,” he whispers, leaning down to peck the corner of your lips, “I could see how truly desperate you were when you rubbed your pretty thighs together.”

“Y-you saw that?” You exhale, craning your neck to give him more space to attack the skin of your neck, littering his little bruises and bites all over you.

“I know my wife, I know her weaknesses. I could smell you from here, and I’m sure if I were to touch you down there…” he locks his eye with yours, one of his hands traveling down towards your panties, chuckling darkly, “my my, so wet and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

He brings his fingers to his mouth, licking your essence off them while he holds eye contact, watching how your lips part in desire as you keep your gaze fixed on his lips and tongue.

“Lay down, I need to apologize to my wife properly,” he pulls the strings of your robe, dropping the fabric on the floor, revealing the sheer fabric to his hungry eye, “I’m an idiot for taking you for granted. Fuck, baby, you look so delicious.”

You pant as his words go straight to your core, heat filling your belly and your wetness oozing out of you slowly. He puts his palm on your chest, gently pushing you back on the cold surface of the piano before he spreads your legs properly, humming as his good eye finds your glistening cunt.

He kisses your knee before pulling his chair closer and sit on it, his tall body giving him the advantage of coming to the same height as your body. Aemond preps your inner thighs with kisses, marking his territory with each nibble and bite which are rewarded by gasps and whimpers from you ever here and there.

He kisses your navel sweetly, nuzzling his head into your hand when you reach down to smooth a few wandering strands of his hair out of his face. You keep him close when he finally, after who knows how long, gives into his urges and attaches his lips to your buzzing clit, moaning as your sweet nectar finally roots its taste onto his tongue.

He is starved, and you realize soon with how he keeps his face buried into your cunt, tongue flickering over the bundle of nerves, teeth sinking into your flesh a little. He doesn’t seem to care about how messy he is eating you out, he has set his goal of making you at least come on his tongue twice tonight.

“Aemond!” your moans fill the room, back arching off the piano as he keeps you down by his hands on your hips, the tip of his tongue collecting your wetness happily while you writhe beneath him, feeling the knot in your belly tightening by the second.

He knows you like the back of his hand, so he speeds up a little, focusing on sucking and licking your clit while you buck your hips to his face. He loves how desperate you are for him, all laid out and pretty and ready to come just for him.

“Fuck, love, I’m—” You throw your head back, tangling your fingers through his hair before you explode on his tongue, whines of pleasure making him dizzy. He keeps flickering his tongue until you stop twitching and push his face away from your swollen pussy.

He grins at your breathless form, caressing your thighs as he stands up and kisses a path from your lower belly up to your lips over your nightgown before he pulls you in a searing kiss, letting you taste yourself on his pink bruised lips.

“I could feast on you all day, sweetheart. I should write a ballad in honor of your pretty cunt,” “You are unbelievable!” You giggle, leaning on your elbows to kiss him again, moving until you are at the edge with your husband between your legs, “You said twice, why are you still up here?” You whisper against his lips.

“I saw how you looked at my hands earlier. I think it would be only fair to make sure you forgive me if I fuck you with my fingers, hmm? You love them, I’m sure they can be convincing enough.”

You nod, words failing to come out of your mouth when he pushes the strands of your nightgown down your shoulders, the chilly air of the room hitting your bare breasts. He leans down to kiss the top of your chest, writing the ballad he promised with his lips over your skin.

His hand moves down where he was a few minutes ago, long digits rubbing between your soaked folds slowly. He makes sure you aren’t as sensitive as you were before he pushes one finger in, keeping you close to him with a hand on your back while the other works his finger in and out of you, drowning your moans with passionate kisses.

He adds another one, curving his fingers inside you slightly as he pushes them deeper, reaching your sweet spots effortlessly with how skilled and long his fingers are — courtesy of practicing piano from a young age.

“Aemond, fuck—please!” your desperate whine adds fuel to the fire starting inside him, and he compiles, fucking you faster with his hand while the rock of his palm rubs your clit with just the right amount of pressure.

You fall apart again easily, gasping as your thighs start shaking with how good he makes you come, lips forming into an O-shape while he keeps his pace up, making sure that you ride your high gracefully before he pulls you in for another rough kiss, his tongue invading your mouth quickly.

“I need you so much, sweetheart,” he says, unbuckling his belt before he pushes his pants and boxers down enough to pull out his weeping cock, “let me have you, baby, please.” “Yes, yes I need you too. It’s been so so long, Aem,” you reach to stroke him gently, scooting closer to him so he can pull you down a little, keeping you tucked between his firm body and piano while somehow holding you up by his large palms under your ass.

You guide him toward your entrance, gasping in union as soon as the fat tip of his cock breaches past your ring of muscles before he pushes himself deep inside you until there is none to take.

You cling to his shoulders as soon as he settles inside your cunt, his hot breath fanning on your face as he gets adjusted to your warmth. It’s been too long for both of you, but he makes a promise to not make the same mistake again, ever.

“Fuck, love, I missed you so much,” he groans in your ear as he starts thrusting up into you, the angle making him reach the deepest part of your pussy easily.

“Me too, baby…” you gasp, hips snapping into his as he goes faster, less patient and ready to devour you thoroughly. You take what he gives you, deep hard strokes that rock your world and leave you breathless and a moaning mess. He relishes every sound that falls from your lips, thinking to himself how no classical piece can ever come close to how beautiful you sound when he pleasures you, and he silently beats himself for neglecting you so much.

He is close, embarrassingly fast and he can feel you tightening around his girth with each thrust. Aemond hides his face in your neck, quickening his pace as he fucks you roughly, pulling screams of ecstasy out of you with ease.

“Come inside me,” you bite his earlobe, your breasts rubbing against his covered chest as you lean upward a little, “I need you, please, husband.”

“Then come with me, come now so I can give my girl what she wants,” he replies, snapping his hips faster into yours until you crumble in his arms, gushing around his cock a few seconds before he follows you, keeping his hips still as he pumps you full of his warm cum, your name falling from his lips like a prayer.

“Don’t you dare put us through that again, Aem, do you hear me?” you ask him, kissing the side of his face lovingly.

“I’d rather die than upset you again, beloved.”

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen angst #aemond fanfiction #modern aemond #aemond targaryen smut #modern aemond targaryen #rue:smut #rue:angst

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endelineinwonderland · 3 days

Text

Let The Light In: Part 5

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Words: 3.2K

Pairing: Paige Bueckers/Media Manager! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Friends to enemies to lovers, reader is actually so incredibly in the wrong, but in this part P is also so incredibly in the wrong, slow burn, the girls are gonna need to confront some pretty deeply rooted attachment issues!!

A/N: Thank you for the love!!! I tried to get pt. 5 out asap so once again, if you see me editing this later, no you didn't!

—-

“Paige, hey Paige, look at me, it’s gonna be okay angel, just focus on me.” You were crouched in front her, slouched over in a desk chair, her tear-filled eyes staring blankly at the floor. Gently, you lifted her shaking hands to press against your clavicle before beginning to take an exaggerated breath, signaling for her to do the same. Her eyes, wide with panic, locked onto yours as she mirrored your breathing.

You had found her sitting alone in her hotel room, dressed and ready for the dinner you were supposed to be at 20 minutes ago. When it became obvious that Paige wouldn’t be making an appearance in the lobby anytime soon, you had told the team to leave without the two of you.

Paige took a deep, steadying breath, her eyes never leaving yours. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I just... I couldn’t.”

“It’s okay,” you reassured her, squeezing her hands gently. “You don’t have to apologize. Let’s just sit here for a bit until you feel ready, okay?” She nodded again.

You glanced around the room, taking in the scene. Paige’s button-up, a light blue that matched her eyes, seemed to hang off her like a heavy shroud. On the dresser, an untouched glass of water and a scattering of jewelry hinted at her earlier preparation for the night that now seemed so far away. The room felt frozen in time, every object a silent witness to whatever had happened as she got ready, whatever had led you to finding her in this state.

The clock on the wall ticked softly, filling the silence between breaths. Paige’s breathing was more even now, but her grip on your hands was still firm, as if letting go would mean losing her grip not just you, but on reality. You gave her a soft smile, hoping to convey the reassurance words couldn’t fully express. “Whenever you’re ready, we can go. Or we can stay here. It’s entirely up to you.”

She nodded; her gaze still locked on yours. “I don’t want to go anymore,” she said, her voice trembling but stronger than before.

“Okay. We can stay.” You shifted slightly, moving up to sit on the arm of the chair, leaning to rest your chin atop her head, your free hand running languid circles over her shoulders.

A few hours later, room service had been ordered and an old movie played softly in the background. Paige had curled herself into a ball at your side, looking over at your laptop while you flipped through pictures from the day's game. She seemed more relaxed now, her eyes following the images on the screen with mild interest.

“This was a good one,” you said, pointing to a picture of her after getting a particularly impressive shot in, her face had lit up with joy and you had automatically zoomed in to capture it.

Paige nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah, that was a good one,” she murmured.

“You did so good today, P. ‘M so proud of you.”

She leaned her head against your shoulder, her body gradually unwinding from its tight coil. “Thanks,” she said softly.

“Always,” you replied, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, hesitating before you spoke again. “Do you wanna talk about it yet?”

A deep sigh left her parted lips. “You’re busy, it’s okay.” She pointed her chin to the computer resting on your lap, waving you off.

You nodded, turning your attention back to your screen, not pushing it any further.

After sending your photos over for review, you had gotten ready for bed, and when you returned, her back was facing you. You drift off to the sound of her shallow breaths, assuming she’d already fallen asleep.

In the quiet darkness, right before you crashed, you had barely made out a whisper so soft that in your fatigue you’d written it off as your imagination. “I felt like I was drowning all day until you found me.”

You didn’t respond.

—-

You have been horrible you realize. Over the course of the night watching Paige, the memory of her saying "I loved you" had evolved, playing all your worst moments from the past few years over and over again like a broken record until you’d gotten stuck on the words: “I felt like I was drowning.”

Charlie had to take over selecting and sending the cover shots to Leo. Your posture now mimicking Paige’s that night, curled in on yourself, Charlie playing your role, sitting beside you protectively, and doing a much better job than you had at balancing both her work and your emotions.

Tears were running silently down your cheeks, with Charlie occasionally turning to you to wipe them off, her soothing hums filling the room. You vaguely remembered telling her how your mom had hummed you to sleep whenever you weren’t feeling good as a kid, and evidently, she had remembered. It seemed like everyone but you knew how to do this, how to take care of people, how to show them you love them.

Maybe, you wondered, you were meant to be alone forever. You didn’t know how to care for people the way they wanted to be, and it seemed as though everyone else around you had been born knowing.

What was it about you that made it so hard? You must just be meant to be alone. All your love had been poured into the thing you were best at: photography, it has gotten to the point where there just must not be enough left for anyone or anything else.

You thought that had changed when you met Paige; she was the first person who could have ever held a candle to your pictures, but in the end, you had chosen them over her. You had chosen yourself over her, again, again, and again.

Charlie paused in her work, noticing your silent despair. She leaned closer, her voice gentle yet firm. “You’re not alone, you know. We all make mistakes, but we can learn from them. You have a good heart, even if you don’t see it right now.”

You shook your head, the tears flowing more freely now. “I hurt her. I didn’t know how to help her. I failed her in every way possible.”

Charlie took your hands in hers, mirroring the gesture you’d once used to comfort Paige. “You did your best. You know, I took a picture too when she got hurt that day. Yours was way better obviously, but you weren’t the only one who took the shot. You were just the only one with your name attached to it, and that’s not your fault, that’s Leo’s. And I know you love the man but every now and then he puts our work over our emotions, and this was one of those times.”

Her words were a salve to your aching heart, but the guilt still weighed heavily on your shoulders. “I don’t know if I can forgive myself for even having ever wanted to take it,” you admitted, voice trembling.

Charlie squeezed your hands gently. “I get that. I felt bad when I looked at mine that night, but I thought about it some more, and I think that’s just what we do. It’s not a conscious decision but like a self-soothing thing. I mean, when Paige gets upset or things feel out of control, what does she do? She picks up her basketball. Your version is picking up a camera. Just start by being kind to yourself. You can’t change the past, but you can change how you move forward. And you don’t have to do it alone.”

You nodded slowly, the first glimmer of hope piercing through the fog of self-doubt, giving way to one of the first coherent thoughts you’d had all week. “Charlie, I think I still love her.”

Charlie’s eyes softened, and she gave your hands another reassuring squeeze. “Then tell her. Show her that you’ve learned, that you’re ready to be there for her in the way she needs. It’s never too late to try.”

You took a deep breath, the weight of your emotions settling into a more manageable burden. “I don’t know if she’ll want to hear it,” you confessed.

“She might not,” Charlie nods, “but you’ll never know unless you try. And even if it takes time, even if it’s hard, it’s worth it if she means that much to you.”

You buried your head in your hands, letting out your first proper sob of the night. Charlie wrapped an arm around you. The tears flowed freely now, in a cathartic release of all the guilt and pain you had been holding inside. For the first time in a long while, you allowed yourself to be vulnerable, to let someone else see the depths of your hurt.

Charlie held you through it, her soothing hums a reminder that you weren’t alone. When the sobs finally subsided, you felt lighter, as if a part of the burden had been lifted.

“I’m scared,” you whispered, your voice hoarse from crying.

“I know,” Charlie said softly. “But you’re brave too.”

You nodded, letting her words sink in for a few minutes before standing to grab your phone. Ignoring the pang in your chest when you saw all the messages left on read under Paige’s contact, you started texting her.

12/5/22

Just checking in

I’m stuck with Leo, I’ll be in the back asap

Read

They just told me you were taken to get scans. I’m sorry it took me so long

I’m praying everything comes back alright, call me whenever you can P

Love you

Read

Azzi called me, I’m so sorry this is happening

I tried to call you, I know you’re probably slammed right now so don’t worry about getting back to me. Just take care of yourself.

I’ll see you soon

Read

12/7/22

Good luck today

Love you P

Read

Nika told me everything went well!!!!!!

Read

12/10/22

Hey I just tried to ft you

Read

12/12/22

Call me back when you can, hope everything’s alright and that you’re feeling better.

I miss you

Read

11/8/23

We need to talk

Sent

“Who are you texting?” Charlie turns to you, curiously.

Letting out a breath you turn to her, “Paige”

“Wait what?” Her tone of voice worries you, “Okay, okay, you know what, I did say you were brave I just didn’t think you’d be that brave, at least not right now.”

Before you could respond, your phone buzzed. Your heart racing as you saw Paige’s name flash on the screen.

11/8/23

Yeah

U free now?

Your hands trembled as you typed out a response. “She wants to meet,” you said, barely above a whisper.

Charlie squeezed your hand reassuringly. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

Taking a deep breath, you hit send and stared at the screen, watching as three little dots immediately appeared. Your heart pounded in your chest, the anxiety you had just passed flooding through you with a newfound force. When the message finally came through, it was simple: I’m not rooming with anyone this time, rm 1503.’

You stood frozen for a moment, the meaning of the message sinking in. This was serious, this was happening.

Gathering your courage, you took a deep breath and headed toward the elevator, each step feeling heavier than the last. The ride to the fifteenth floor seemed to take forever, your mind racing with every possible outcome. What would you say? How would she react? Would she even want to listen?

As you walked down the hallway, the muffled sounds of other guests—laughter, conversations, the occasional clinking of glasses—faded into the background, your focus solely on the marks on the doors as you approached. The numbers climbed agonizingly slowly: 1500, 1501, 1502….

When you finally reached room 1503, you paused, your heart hammering in your chest. You took another deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly in both directions, and the muted lighting cast long shadows on the patterned carpet. The air felt thick, choking you with each inhale.

You raised your hand, hesitating for a split second before knocking gently. The door opened almost immediately, and there stood Paige, her expression a mix of apprehension and determination. She stepped aside, gesturing for you to enter, still not speaking.

“Hi,” you said softly, your voice slicing through the silence in a way Paige must have disapproved of, you think, noting her slight flinch at you.

You stepped into the room, noting its simple coziness—it was nicer than yours, but that wasn’t shocking. A neatly made bed, a small sitting area by the window, and a suitcase still packed in the corner. The city lights outside cast a gentle glow into the room. Under very different circumstances, you’d have asked to set a camera up at the window for a few long exposures.

Paige closed the door behind you, then moved to sit in one of the chairs by the window you had gotten lost staring out of. “Do you wanna sit?” she asked, her tone carefully neutral.

You nodded, moving to sit in the chair opposite her. When the silence stretched between you, heavy with anticipation, you realized Paige wasn’t going to speak first.

“I know this isn’t enough, but I don’t know where else to begin: I’m so sorry for everything,” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “I’ve spent so much time thinking about what happened, and I realize now how much I hurt you. I didn’t know how to help you, and I didn’t put in the effort to learn how. I failed you. But I’ve been trying to learn from my mistakes.”

Paige looked at you, her eyes searching your face as if trying to gauge the sincerity of your words. “I felt so alone,” she said quietly. “I needed you, and you chose literally anything over me, that damn camera over me,” her voice breaking at the end of her sentence.

You couldn’t tell if her uncharacteristically early display of emotion was just a sign of her fatigue or a sign of the true extent of her suffering.

Heart aching, you resisted the urge to reach out for her. That’s not something you’re allowed to do anymore. “I know. And I’m sorry, I’ll tell you every day until we die if you need me to.”

“I was horrible, and I didn’t see how much you were struggling, or maybe I just ignored it because I didn’t know how to handle it. You’re more important to me than anything else. I know I’ve hurt you, but I want to be better. I want to be there for you in the way you need.”

Tears welled in her eyes, and she looked away, her voice trembling. “I just—I just don’t know how to believe you.”

Your heart dropped to the floor. You felt the weight of her words, the profound sense of doubt and mistrust. This was the moment of truth, the crossroads where everything you had hoped for hung in the balance.

“I understand,” you said softly, your own voice breaking before you can speak up again, “I spoke to Charlie earlier.”

Paige winces at this, “I’m sorry for ignor-“ You shake your head softly, stopping her. “It’s okay.”

Before she can open her mouth to disagree, you take a deep breath, readying yourself for what you were about to say. “Charlie told me she had taken pictures that day too. I’m not saying this to defend what I did, but to try to explain it because I’m still trying to understand it myself. She said that the reason she took the pictures was to cope with how awful everything was in that moment. You know how when things are just horrible and out of control, and you want to fix it but can’t, so you automatically start doing whatever you know how to do, even if it’s not helpful?”

Paige tilts her head, her brows furrowing in thought. You continue, “Like how when things in your life feel stressful or out of control, you go shoot hoops or something? I do the same with my camera. I just took it way too far that day. I’ve relived that moment a thousand times in my head, and I can say with absolute certainty that out of any choices I could have made, I made the worst one. Saying I’m sorry doesn’t even begin to cover it. And again, this isn’t an excuse, but just trying to make it make sense, or at least a little bit of sense.”

Your shoulders sag with something vaguely resembling relief as you finish. The silence between you stretched, heavy and suffocating. Paige's eyes remained fixed on you, her expression unreadable. You felt exposed, every word you had said hanging in the air, vulnerable and raw.

After what felt like an eternity, Paige finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “You know, I meant it when I said I love you, and for a long time, I thought you could do anything and I’d forgive you.”

You nodded, hands quickly moving to wipe the tears that fell down your cheeks a little faster when you had moved your head. “You don’t need to forgive me. If you think you can, I’ll fight tooth and nail for it, but I will understand. I’ll always be here if you need me though."

You look up at her, reaching a hand out between the two, an olive branch of sorts.

"I’ll always love you too Pa-”

You’re cut off by the blonde suddenly standing from her chair, her movements hasty as she bends slightly over you to capture your lips with hers. The kiss is just as intense as it is unexpected, filled with a mixture of desperation and longing. It takes you a moment to process what’s happening, but then you kiss her back, pouring all your feelings, all your apologies into that one moment. Lips pressed roughly against hers, your hands find their way to her waist, holding her firmly in place as if afraid she might disappear, that this might not be real.

Paige's body melts into yours, surrendering completely to you. Your hands gently explore the smooth planes of her back, feeling the heat of her skin through the thin fabric of her T-shirt. As the kiss deepens, your senses become hazy, consumed by the sensation of her lips and the sweet taste of her mouth. You can feel the beat of her heart against your chest, matching the rapid rhythm of your own. A mix of relief and longing wash over you. It felt like the first breath of air after nearly drowning, like finally coming home after wandering lost for so long. You pulled her closer, fingers pressing against her back, trying to commit every second to memory.

When Paige finally breaks the kiss, she’s breathless, her eyes wide and searching yours.

“Shit,” she pulls herself back, hastily moving her fingertips up to press against her lower lip.

You can hardly speak, your brain trying to catch up with the overwhelming emotions swirling inside you. "What..." you begin, struggling to find the right words as you catch your breath. "What was that?"

She stands rooted in her spot in front of you, a deer caught in the headlights. “I'm sorry I shouldn't have done that. You should go.”

#paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers #uconn wbb #paige buckets #paige bueckers fic #wcbb #wcbb x reader #wlw #uconn huskies #paige bueckers fanfiction #paige bueckers headcannons #fanfic #angst #wbb

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44st4rs · 3 days

Text

YOU GOTTA DRESS THE PART!

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ synopsis: Your new boy toy made himself at home with just the clothes on his back. When asked where all his stuff's gone, all Toji can do is point to the same clothes he appeared to you with. If he's gonna play the role, might as well spoil him too!

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ pairings: widow!fem!reader x toji fushiguro

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ cw: 10k + words, pwp, dubcon, talks/mentions of death, use of petnames, use of an oc, vouyerism, exhibitionism, mirror sex, couch sex, oral(m. receiving), cûm eating, reader gets a little shy, fingering, clït slapping, brat tamer!toji, unprotected sex, panty stealing

✫ ˚♡ ⋆｡ ❀ words from chris: part two is here and i don't know how it got...longer! oh well, it's nasty...and that's exactly how i love my fics to be, xoxo!

part 1! • the man for hire m.list

ONE NEW MESSAGE FROM: XXX-XXX-XXXX

PAYMENT: + ¥ 40,000

Forty thousand yen stare Toji back in his awe-struck face. His thumb's back to swiping again, refreshing the screen as if he's expecting the amount to disappear magically.

But they're not, the five bolded digits simply return each time he dismisses them.

So he blinks. His eyebrow arches, his eyes squint, and he blinks at his phone blankly until something like a smile crosses Toji's features. In a single night, Toji finds himself dancing in Lady Luck's palm. He's got a roof over his head, a nice gig, and a pretty lady at his side—and all he really asked for was a few bucks for food.

He wants to mull over the second thoughts that arise—what if it's just a dream? What if it's too good to be true?

But the numbers on his phone don't lie and the wafting heat of the skillet he's working over isn't a dream.

"She didn't even tell me what she wanted..." Toji mutters as he places his phone down on the granite countertop. He teases the browning edges of the omelette with the spatula he kept in hand.

He doesn't usually take people's requests to heart, but for you—something about you makes him hang up his old ways. It's not like you were kind about it, demanding breakfast right before dozing off in his arms.

When he woke up a few hours earlier, Toji faced your sleeping form. He remembers how he captured you under his fawning gaze. He drank in the shallow breaths flooding your lungs, the supple pout pushed out onto your lips, and the way you wore sleep perfectly.

He didn't know how he ended up cradling you in his arms, but for some reason, Toji was willing to ignore the thought in place of the reality before him. You got comfortable with him fast—or just the presence of having someone else in bed with you once again.

That's when he remembers the notion sweeping over to leave your side with a kiss. A tender peck right on the corner of your mouth to let you know someway and somehow that he wasn't going too far.

Even after hours have passed and daylight's entered the room, he still can't put together why he did that—but regret isn't one of those sentiments.

But now he's here, dressed in nothing but the jeans he came to you with cooking you that desired breakfast. Between each flip of the omelette, Toji's eyes scan about your kitchen—gawking at how every countertop is a thick chiseled slab of red granite, gold accents for the handles of all the drawers, cabinets, and the refrigerator.

A vast island stands right underneath yet another chandelier, catching the peeking rays of sun from the windows. Barstools outline the outer wall along the kitchen's rim, making it the perfect penthouse kitchen.

When he first stumbled into your kitchen, he could only stare. And he still is, but the shock ebbs away with each dish he turns his attention to.

He's ending his working shift with the final plate for breakfast, the small salad joining the ranks of miso soup, steamed rice and rolled omlettes. While Toji's hoping you eat it all, he can't help but entertain the thought of how trusting you are of him.

Maybe it's because of his background and the world he hails from, but to ask a stranger to cook breakfast? What if he's malicious enough to poison you and rob you right in front of your dying eyes? Nothing's stopping him either, but he has his reasons. And then again, he's the one who initiated the verbal contract out of thin air.

You two were made for each other.

The soft creaks of bed springs pull Toji out of his mind and his eyes down the hallway again, piquing his attention.

He's graced by the sight of you, clutching that damned robe as you saunter down the hallway. The lazy steps of your stroll lead you beneath the sun's rays, kissing your skin with its gentle glow.

"Good...morning..." he fumbles over, his blown hues fixed on you.

You catch Toji's gawking stare, a grin teetering on your lips.

"G'morning, Toji. Thank you for cooking," you hum, slipping into a barstool across from Toji's workstation.

"You look real pretty this morning, Princess," Toji purrs as a dopey smile grows across his lips.

"You keep calling me that...why?" you quiz, stretching your arms along the smooth countertop.

"Cause...you're basically living in a castle—hm, more like a tower. And it looks like a castle in here. Feel like Princess is the only thing that comes to mind whenever I look at you."

You lean into Toji's ardor, cradling your chin within your soft palm."That would make you my knight in shining armor, no?"

Toji snickers as he looks down, his hand coming to rub the hairs at the back of his neck. "No, I'm just some guy trying to make a living. Thanks for the honor though, I'll do my best."

Your eyes roam over Toji and the display of his bare chest. It's a broad canvas of muscle, stretched beneath skin, scars, and the ripples of veins. Maybe there's another plus in this little arrangement if you get to wake up to this view every morning. You shamelessly let yourself wander over him, tracing each crest of his abs and the faint streak of hair beneath his navel.

Until you find yourself clinging to a familiar sight.

"Toji," you begin, "Isn't it uncomfortable to wear jeans this early?"

"Eh, it's whatever. Don't got nothing else."

"Nothing else? What do you mean?"

Toji leans over the counter, his features softening as he closes the distance between you both. He could laugh at your naïveté, but he knows you understand him—he didn't stutter. But he'll give in just to watch your face fix itself into some new cute expression, shocked by the state you found him in.

"What you met me in is all I got. 'Cept for the extra brush I found in your bathroom. By the way, who keeps sex toys under the sink?"

A look of utter shock breaks across your face—your eyes shot apart and your jaw slack. "No wonder there was a new brush next to mine! You went through my stuff?!"

Again Toji feigns innocence, hands waving defensively. "Calm down! I like to keep clean. I didn't mean to but I didn't wanna wake you up when I have common sense. Took a shower, brushed my teeth, and now here we are."

"Toji...fine. But after we eat, we're going out."

"Where are we going?" He asks, reaching for two plates from the nearest cabinet.

"Ginza, we gotta get you some clothes, some shoes...eh, guess a little bit of everything."

"Ginza? Isn't there some malls 'round here we could go to instead?"

"Course there is, but I'm taking you to a place I know...personally."

"You're really spoiling me now. Turning into a sugar mommy—Oh! Should I just call you—"

"Keep talking and it's coming out of your paycheck."

Toji brings two plates with him as he settles into a stool beside you, placing the fragile dish in front of you. It's a collection of his labors–a small bowl of miso soup, rolled omelet slices, white rice, and a side salad made of tomato and cucumbers.

Toji shoots you one last smirk before turning into his own meal, "Hope you like it."

"Wow," you marvel, grinning at the colorful display, "I haven't eaten like this in a while."

"Huh? You've got all these ingredients and the space to cook. If you don't do that, then what do you eat?"

"Just some fruit, tea, some sandwiches. I rarely cook for myself these days, but it's getting better."

"Hm, is that right?"

Toji places an outstretched digit beneath the contours of your chin, tilting your head towards him. He's giving you a soft stare, his blue hues fanning over your stuffed cheeks.

"Don't worry about it. Way back when, I used to cook a lot, so I remember some recipes. But 'm not doing it alone, deal?"

You nod at Toji as he swipes along the plump curves of your visage, " 'Kay."

For a man you just hired, he's too kind to you. Since last night, he's been nothing but careful with you. He acts as if he's handling something so precious

"Toji, why are you so nice to me?" You ask between a bite of the fluffy steamed rice.

"Dunno," he shrugs, "This is the only way I know how to treat women. My last wives brought this side out of me. And as for you, it just feels natural. Why...want me to be an asshole to you?"

"No...it was just a thought," you mumble softly.

Then again, that's a passive answer Toji put together on the spot. How could he tell you about the sadness that lingers behind your eyes? It's not apparent to most, but there's a dark haze that blends itself into the color of the iris., dimming the soul's light beneath grief. Toji knows those eyes better than anyone else, especially when he himself dons the same look from time to time.

You cover it up behind a snarky attitude, but he knows that's not who you really are. Something tells him you're actually the complete opposite—a free-spirited soul who makes her own rules in life, a woman who leads with passion before anything else. Someone who opens up as they get comfortable, something he's noticing rather quickly.

And a woman just met one of the world's seven wonders too soon. He even said it to himself as he watched you snuggle up against his chest last night; for however long he ended up staying with you, he wanted to get to know you...the real you.

He can't stop thinking about it, how your bodies fell prey to one another within minutes last night. Your body fitting perfectly in his hands, responding to his every beck and call. Even now he's staring at your lips, swearing that just one more kiss could heal him from the inside out.

That's not something he's experienced before, even with his tattered love history. A whim brought him to your doorstep and this whim is what's leading you both down some new path together.

So if he had to wake up to make breakfast, accompany you on some one-sided outings, and give in to your fancies to see the real you, he'd do it all.

With his last bite, Toji places his chopsticks onto his clear plate. He glances over to you, your plate mirroring his own.

"C'mon," he announces as he stands from his seat. " We gotta get going, right?" I'll clean up here, go shower. Oh and Princess?"

"Yeah?"

Toji catches your eye with a stern squint. "Don't. Take. Long. Twenty minutes. Two. Zero."

"Fine," you scoff, standing on the tile floor at last.

Toji watches as you walk off, your hips bearing a salacious sway with each step.

"Fucking minx," he mumbles to himself as he tends to the cleaning.

Twenty minutes later, Toji strolls over to the couch with a much-needed break on his mind. He grabs his shirt from the couch, slipping the gray top over his shoulder and down his chest before settling into the couch's plush chocolate leather. He's back on his phone, scrolling endlessly through his emails and past texts to pass what seems to be an eternity. His eyes fall onto the time displayed on his screen: 11:24.

You're four minutes over the limit. Should he knock on the door? What if he finds you naked? Now that he thinks about it, that wouldn't bother him much, but his point still stands.

"Y/N! It's not twenty minutes anymore! Hurry up pl-"

"...Toji! I'm ready," you call out, breaking him out of his thoughts.

The soft clicks echoing along the floor breaks Toji's train of thought. As he sits up, his eyes fall on you wearing a sage-green silk dress with a pair of strappy white heels. Your handbag matches your shoes, a detail that Toji finds himself appreciating with a mindless grin.

He stands to greet you, sheepishly slipping his hands into his pockets, "Wow, got me feeling a little underdressed now."

You meet Toji's gaze, arching an eyebrow at his words. "Well, don't. If you're gonna be living with me, we've gotta have you dressed the part. But I mean...if you want that. I'm not trying to force you or anything, I just have a feeling that you might want some options."

Toji joins your side, his hand eagerly resting along your lower back. He's wearing a dumb smirk on his face, watching you click the elevator doors open.

"Aww, trying to be considerate, aren't you?"

"Shut up. Let's get going."

Toji follows behind you, stepping into the small chamber. The scene of the living room closes out before him and he's left with you to muse over. You and that pretty outfit that he's obsessing over. His hand has yet to move from you, not that he has the intention to. He doesn't care if it's shameless or outright wrong, Toji just can't help but stare at you. It's barely been a full day and just your beauty has Toji willingly tied around your finger.

You could ask anything of him and he'd be ready to oblige. In truth, he's brimming with half the nerve to tug that dress up your waist and take you on right here and now. But that's too brash and he knows that. Instead, he's hoping you'll leave him something for the chase of imagination.

"Y/N? Look at me for a sec," Toji hums as his fingers tap against the fabric of your dress.

At Toji's demand, your eyes trace up to his own, the azure hues blown wide. The hand he keeps at your back takes on a new path, sinking along the contour of your hip. He's pulling you dangerously close, the fading scent of the cologne on his shirt filling your nose. You aren't even aware of how quickly you give into his advance, your hand sinking into the shielded profile of his chest.

"Give me a kiss."

"...No."

"Why not?"

"Because," you shrug, "I said so."

Toji's pout is a cute one. His bottom lip bears all the jutting weight, his eyes widen with each mindless blink, and the huff that breaks into the air almost makes you want to take back your cold response. It takes all of your strength from laughing at his ebbing resolve, your teeth biting down at the innards of your cheeks.

"Because...you said so?" Toji repeats as he points a finger towards you.

"Yup. 'Cause I said so."

The soft ding of the opening elevator doors pulls you and Toji from the growing heat of the conversation, revealing the building's lobby.

The softly dimmed space draws you and Toji out of the elevator. You've seen it a million times but it's a sight that claims you with ease. The lobby relies on the power of natural lighting, but with its ambient lighting, it's nothing short of welcoming. The polished cream walls wear tile and the green vines of outgrown plants. The only piece of furniture to exist on the waxy hardwood floor is the front desk, occupied by a certain someone.

"Oh, good morning, Y/N! Out for the day?" a voice greets, earning you and Toji to find the source.

The voice stems from the doorman, Daisuke. He's sixty-five, tall with a softened physique of muscle. Only a handful of wrinkles line his fair skin—the typical crow's feet and smile lines. His eyes are of a deep chocolate, but so soft on whoever they land on. His salt and pepper hair stops just shy of his ears, barely hiding his array of piercings.

Daisuke always works the day shift, with his younger counterpart claiming the night. From conversations you've had over the years, Daisuke was a delinquent back in his younger days but mellowed out once he settled down with his current wife.

You and Toji find yourselves journeying toward Daisuke, you both resting along the rim of the shiny wooden surface.

Daisuke sets his attention on you, smiling as he awaits a response.

"Yup! Going down to Ami's for the day!" your words paired with a grin.

"Good, Good...good..." Daisuke trails off. His sights fall over Toji, scanning every bit of Toji's face. Daisuke's sights fall over Toji, his brown hues narrowing down over Toji.

His disapproval is sketched out with a frown, his upper lip arched with disgust. Daisuke isn't one to hide his opinion, especially towards the man trying to court you. He simply stares at Toji until he's ready to speak, his tone honoring his distaste.

"Who might this be, Miss?"

"Oh! Um...this is Toji...he's uh—"

"An old friend," Toji quickly interrupts. "I'm always traveling for work and finally caught a long enough break to visit Y/N."

"E-Exactly! An old friend..." you nervously fumble out, attaching a weary smile to settle your case.

"Mhm...well, I'm not gonna stop you any longer. Have fun you two!" Daisuke sensing your unease. He waves goodbye to you and Toji as you both walk away towards the doors.

Your digits reach for the golden handle of the door, only for Toji to take the lead. With a heavy push, he opens the door for you to pass. But he's waiting for you to get close, so close that he's right behind you, pressing his chest flush against your back.

He leans in, the heat of his breath brushing past the shell of your ear. "Allow me...friend."

You peer back at Toji, rolling your eyes at his comment. "You called yourself my friend, don't get mad at me...friend."

"Fine, what were you going to call me then?"

The question plagues you into a moment of silence, an audible gasp escaping from your lips. All you can do is blink at him, your fluffy lashes batting themselves until you can finally utter something back to Toji's waiting ears.

"You...you talk too much. Let's just get down to Ginza, alright?"

"Yeah, alright," he sighs, walking beside you once more.

But there's some truth between the lines of Toji's sassy remarks.

Despite Toji's hand slipping into your own as you begin your trek, you can't bring yourself to deny him. His presence carries an ease that calms your heart. It's so calming that you can't begin to pinpoint what he is to you. A stranger? To an extent, but in time that title is going to fade away. If he's a friend, then he shouldn't be this kind with you. A lover, no, but the tendencies aren't so far off.

So....who is Toji Fushiguro to you?

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A six-minute train ride and an additional ten-minute walk carry you and Toji face to face with a small building at the end of the block. To the unfamiliar eye, nothing about the store stands out. Not the white brick, not the pink awning, not the vintage door with a grand gold door knob.

And with an unfamiliar eye like the one Toji has, he's scanning over the building. You've brought him to a tailor but that's the opposite of what he needs. He quickly glances over his appearance, there wasn't a hole that he could spot but maybe you have better eyes than he did. He's confused but that doesn't stop him from opening the door for you.

"A tailor? My clothes don't need fixing, Princess," Toji notes as he reaches for the door handle.

"I know, Toji. We're getting you custom-made clothes, silly," you giggle, slipping past the opened door.

The soft scent of clean linen pulls you inside the quaint shop, Toji coming to stand by your side. Your eyes rave about the open floor, not a clothing rack, display table, or mannequin is in sight. Thick palettes of cloth hang from the wall, replacing the initial white-painted walls in splashes of color.

There's cotton, silk, wool, chiffon, and denim just from what you can name. A few doors line the right wall, and the kanji for fitting rooms are inscribed into the wood. Your eyes fall onto another door, placed alone and along the furthest wall of the shop labeled with a name that's too far to read.

Roaming steps lead you deeper inside, the presence of the service desk landing in view. Your curious gaze hinges on the figure of a woman. She's busied herself with something in a notebook, her pen furiously translating her thoughts. Long thick locks of gray shroud her face as she's bent over along the desk's surface, but with the smile stretching across your face, you knew who the woman was all too well.

"Ami!" you squeal, waltzing towards her with open arms.

Ami breaks away from her work to meet you, her cheeks pulled taunt by a full-bodied smile. As she steps away from the counter, you glance over Ami giddily. From the last time you visited her, she hasn't changed.

She dons a veil of gray with grace these days, not a strand of her rich black hair left. She's still wearing that soft expression—her doe eyes wide and brown, her brows eased and plucked thin, her skin fair and gentle, and her lips wear a forever smile.

"Oh, my sweet Y/N!" Ami beams as she pulls you into her arms, the sleeves of her blue sweater pushing along your skin.

"You're glowing, my dear. And you're wearing the dress, it looks so—well, who might this be?" She cuts off, directing her sights to Toji.

You step back from Ami to join Toji's side, giving him a kind yet warning stare. You can't control what he's planning to say, but from what you've gathered so far, he's a blunt man. A blunt man who calls the situation exactly how he sees fit—without shame.

"Hi, I'm Toji," he waves. " Y/N here is my mistr—"

"Friend! He's going to say friend!" You blurt out, welcoming an awkward silence.

You don't have to look at Toji, the heat of a grim squint tells you everything you need to know. You're back to using that damned word, but what else fits? As much as you want to calm him, selling this story to someone as keen as Ami is taking all your focus and energy not to crack beneath the pressure.

Your heart's running on nervous fumes, an echoing pang clogging your ears. All you can do is suffer beneath Ami's careful observation, her big brown doe eyes thinning into a stern squint. She's standing there with her arms folded to her chest, darting her sights from you and Toji.

You're wearing a smile but it's a shaky one, the corners of your mouth quivering with each passing second. You don't know what sort of smile she sees and that's the fact that scares you. You can't tell if she's buying it, but she isn't prying at you for an honest reply.

"Well...it's nice to meet you, Toji! So, what can I do for my favorite customer?"

A sigh of relief pours from your chest, as you lean into Toji's hold, your head resting against his shoulder. His hand quickly laces around your waist, instantly ruining all of your hard work.

So much for being a friend.

"It's him, I wanna get him some custom clothing. Whatever he wants."

"Great! Then I'll leave the hard work to you! Do you mind measuring him?"

"Measure me? Isn't a large enough for me?" Toji asks, turning to you with knitted brows.

"Well, yes a large is enough for you, but it doesn't complement you. Here, I'll show you."

Taking his hand into your own, you lead Toji before a mirror, the glass pane slotted between two fitting room doors. In the reflection, you stand beside Toji, your hand running along the front of his shirt.

"Your proportions aren't something an average man like you has, which means that there's always gonna be spots where there's too much or too little fabric. Like here..."

The tips of your fingers pinch at the hem of Toji's gray thermal, tugging at the loose fabric surrounding his waist. "You've got a small waist but wide shoulders. This shirt looks decent on you, but it's literally just sitting on your body. Let's see if a top made with a bit more for your shape works better."

"Oh, I don't care about that," Toji begins, his stare falling onto you. "As long as I got something on my body. But since you're going out your way for me...I'll try anything once."

You give Toji a faint smirk, his charm's enough to make any woman fall for him.

"Ami," you announced. "We'll be in the fitting room. I'll be done with his measurements in a bit!"

You guide Toji to the lone door at the back of the shop, your hand reaching for the sliver handle–until Toji catches a particular detail.

"Huh...who's name is that on the door?"

"Oh, that's mine. It's a private fitting room made just for my late husband and I," your digits tracing the engraved characters.

"How'd you land that—"

"Oh, Toji!" Ami calls out before you both disappear into the room. "Do you have any fabric preferences? I wanna pick some out while I wait for the measurement."

"Nope, just use your judgment, ma'am," his words inducing a smile along Ami's features.

"Great! There's measuring tape in the room already. So go get measured and I'll pick out some colors and fabric for you!"

You give Ami a nod before sinking past the doorframe with Toji. The door opens up into a dimly lit circular room, welcoming you back with the soft scent of vanilla.

"Just how we left it..."you whisper to yourself, looking around the room.

It's not a huge room, but it's comfortable for two people. Panes of glass line the walls, looping around the curved walls. In the center of the room stands a toffee leather divan bolted to the ground, accompanied by a small glass table with magazines, a candle, and a roll of measuring tape.

"Wow...so this is all yours?" Toji gawks as he strolls around the room. Everywhere he turns, his reflection is everywhere—along with your own. He's stuck on studying your agile steps to the small coffee table, taking the measuring tape in hand. You're twirling it in the palm of your hand as a smile crowds your visage.

"Yeah. Years back, my husband and I were in the neighborhood and came across this place. At the time we needed some clothes for an event coming up and Ami was willing to make them just for us. When we got the order and saw how nicely they fit us, we were sold. My husband and I invested in this place and had it renovated. As a gift, Ami wanted us to build a room just for us and that's exactly what we're standing in."

"So...long ago," you muse. The memory isn't that old but it feels like an eternity has passed since that fateful day. The room that was made as a gift was merely nothing more than a memoir of memories made with you and your late husband.

Until your drifting sights latch on to Toji. He's standing a few feet from you with his hands in his pockets. His head's fallen into a tilt, concern weaving into his features.

"Never mind that, it's in the past now. Ami also works with socialites, doctors, lawyers, governors, anyone really," you brush off swiftly, spinning around to face Toji.

"Mhm..." he mumbles. "So what do you need from me?"

"Could you take your shirt off and stand in front of me? And just relax."

Your instructions are followed down to the letter, Toji presenting himself before you. He tugs his shirt over his head and tosses it onto the divan's cushion. He keeps his arms at his sides, waiting for your next instructions.

"Good...now just let me..." you mutter, pressing the white strip of leather to Toji's skin.

Silence falls over the room, but the tension between you and Toji grows with no bounds. You're gentle when you touch him, placing the marked leather along the curves of Toji's body—his broad shoulders, thick biceps, and sculpted forearms. You save his chest for last, carefully placing the measuring tape along the hull of his rippling pecs.

All Toji can do is watch you hard at work. He's picked up on a quirk of yours, how you bite your lip whenever you're focused. He's touched honestly with how much effort you're putting into him, all this effort put for him.

"I still need an answer, y'know." Your words pulling Toji from his thoughts.

"For?"

You roll the tape back into a small ball, finally setting your attention on Toji. You stare at him with kind eyes, letting your touch explain all he needs to know. The pads of your digits trace the burly hull of his chest, languidly following the rigid print of his faded scars.

"These. How'd you end up with 'em?"

A chuckle rings from his lungs, Toji's chest rippling beneath your wandering touch. He's looking at you, his stare flickering at every inch of your face. Underneath his dim lighting, he's intrigued by the glow behind your eyes. It's a blur of curiosity with the hues of tease. It's a deadly mix—the same deadly mix that rushes through Toji's veins every single day.

"Would you believe me if I said I'm not the best guy? I get into fights for a living and these are simply my reminders of what I do."

"That's fine."

You're...unfazed. He has to blink a few times to register it all—but you simply present him with the same look. He just told you he's no good. Maybe it's too subtle of a warning.

So...He tries again.

"And what if I said my hands are dirty? I'm a selfish man who only lives for himself and the money I make. What would you say about that?"

"That's fine, too."

"God, you're so—"

"Stupid? Crazy?" you interrupt. "If you wanted to hurt me, I gave you all the chances to...and I'm still here. Paint yourself to be the bad guy if you want, try to scare me away...but I don't care. We have a deal remember? And breaking a deal is just bad business."

A smirk cracks along Toji's lips, "Oh, I'm gonna like you."

"Come on, I need to measure you more. Take your pants off too," you huff, stepping back from Toji.

Toji's hand rustles with the metal clasp of his belt, yanking the leather strap loose around his hips, yanking his belt loose. His pants follow the same pattern, the unclasped button granting him the freedom of space. The denim falls from his waist, revealing a black pair of briefs sitting snugly around him.

"I thought you didn't have extra clothes," you ponder aloud as you drop to your knees.

"I always keep an extra pair of underwear."

"Is that right? Well, just stand still and we'll be done soon," your focus already shifting to the small red numbers lacing around his thighs.

And it's a simple task asked of him, but nothing's ever simple with Toji. He's doing his best to behave but innocence isn't and has never been his forte. It's because of you he's struggling beneath a pesky heat that's running amok over his body. He's just too wary of how close you were to him.

He's catching your hot breaths with the front of his briefs, bringing a flurry of twitches to strum through his cock. He has to stand there and ignore how your soft hands travel along his thighs, working so hard to get an accurate number.

Why oh why do you have to look so cute on your knees for him?

Toji's so drawn by his racing imagination, that he nearly misses your question.

"How do you like pants to fit?"

"Oh...some days tight. Some days loose."

"C'mon," you scoff, peering up at Toji. "I need a real answer."

All he can offer you is a coy smile, hiding all his intentions behind the gesture. "Sorry, Princess, I just can't focus right now. Ask me the question again."

"And...what are you doing that you can't focus?" your lips pushing out a pout.

"Don't do that—you know why. I mean, you look so pretty on your knees, doing all this work for me. Can't blame me for these thoughts, they just...come in, y'know?"

You shake your head, "Toji, focus. Let's be pro—"

"Don't shut me down like that. It's always been a fantasy of mine, a quickie in a fitting room."

Toji's hand breaks away from his side to tease you. His thick digits curl beneath your chin, tilting your head to bear the searing heat of his gaze.

"Can't tell me you haven't thought of it too, Princess."

A sigh breaks from your lungs as you drop the roll of measuring tape on the floor. Your hands are eager to be filled, stretched around something thick. It's no wonder that your digits choose Toji's thighs for the job. He fits perfectly in your palm, but he's just so big that your two hands alone can't form a proper grip around him. Your only resort is to tease him, dragging your nails to paint his skin red.

"...And maybe I have. Doesn't mean I should give into it."

Your nails trail up his sides, down the developed curves of his abs, and slowly hang right under his navel. He's playing it off well, but the chills that lick Toji's nerves tell you all you need to know. Antipcipation's making him sensitive from this point on, a ploy that's set to work in your favor. You dress his skin with a single line, the faint flare of crimson mapping your path down to his pelvis.

"Toji?"

"Yeah, Princess?"

"So, it's fine for me to do such a dirty job now?"

Toji's thumb swipes along your bottom lip, "Shhh, just for today, it's okay. I know that greedy mouth wants to taste me."

Toji allows himself to fall into lust by settling into the comfort of the divan, the cushions dipping beneath his weight. He isn't wasting any time to have your pretty lips wrapped around his cock. He already went back on his word—and might as well follow through with his lustful agenda for the moment. He makes quick work of his briefs, tugging the black cotton down his legs. The concealed bulge of his breaks free from its stifling confines, his dribbling cock slapping against his stomach.

All you grant him is a grin of approval as you crawl between his legs, your hands surfacing atop his thighs. But that grin you wear so proudly fades away with the first peck you place along his tanned length. Your lips are met by the quivers of spry veins rising beneath Toji's skin, a testament to the growing pit in his tummy.

Your eyes don't dare to part from his, basking beneath the ravenous glare he's cast upon you. All Toji can do is watch—watch as your playful kisses paint his cock in the pinky hues of your lipgloss.

He's cracking right before you, his lungs barely grasping the thickening air. He's hard, painfully hard at that. All his thoughts rush straight to the crown of his cock, sending an aching headache to rile the swelling tip. He's falling back into the nasty habit of impatience thanks to the mess of pearly tears trailing down his girth, leaving you to catch every drop.

Your lips curve along the juicy tip, suckling at the thick vein that flushes out the underside of his cock. You're so gentle with him that he's flinching, his hips bucking into the air. He's whimpering at your tender display, but that's not all you're pulling from him. Creamy beads drip from Toji's slit, dyeing your skin in his shade of white.

"Mhm, stop teasing me, Princess. Making my cock all pretty with your kisses. Want me you cum just like too, don't—Shit!"

Your puckering pout stretches along the head of Toji's cock, pulling him into your mouth inch by inch. The hot, salty tears of his precum greet you first, the instant reminder flooding your dumbed brain. His essence is something to relish, that deep musk sinking past your senses. Just the taste of him stirs up your mind, prying at some hidden carnal urge.

You're hungry for him, that hidden urge turned into the sin of gluttony. You're hungry for every drop of him, to have his flavor simmer on your tongue for as long as possible.

That newfound urge of yours, your mouth eagerly swallows Toji down to the last inch, your nose cutting into the dark bushel of hairs. But he's so big that you can't keep this up forever. It's a last resort but all you can do is form a loose fist at the base of his cock, softly squeezing at his girth.

"Thaaaat's it, take it all down your throat," Toji cheers, his palm cupping your cheek gently.

It's such a dirty display that Toji can't help but stare—your lips split around his girth. You're leaving him to gawk stupidly at you. There's spit carelessly spilling from the corners of your mouth, whimpers singing from your housed throat and pretty tears staining your skin. You've barely started and you're already driving yourself into a mess on his behalf.

Just his type of woman—so shy, so reserved, but so fucking nasty that not even a picture would be enough proof.

As you find a cadence to strum along to, you suck your cheeks in around Toji. It's a gentle cocoon, wrapping his cock's wrapped in a heaven of velvety bliss. You even enlist your hand to help with your salacious endeavors, the balled fist dragging up and down Toji's sticky length. Now, you're really spoiling him, pitting him to bear the silky fat writhing around his plump cock.

He can't help it, lifting his hips to meet your worked mouth. His hands race to brace the back of your head, his palms smothered over your ears. With the brash snap of his hips, you've driven yourself numb to everything that wasn't Toji.

You've even become numb to your surroundings, nearly dismissing the soft knock on the room's door.

"Y/N! I'm gonna get started on some samples. What are the measurements, darling?"Ami's voice filters through the stained air.

"Better hurry up 'nd tell her. Can't have poor Ami watching her favorite client make a mess of herself," Toji taunts, his hand coming to replace your grip over his cock.

"Oh, yes! His height is 188 cm, waist 72.6 cm, chest 110cm, upper arm 42.5 cm, wrist 19 cm, and collar 38cm! W-We'll come back for the pants another day!"

"Wonderful! I'll get right to work then!" Ami hums. Her shadow beneath the door's crack disappears, taking along that plunging throb in your tummy.

"Toji! That was too—"

The tip of Toji's cock taps at your lips, halting any words to fall from your busy mouth. "Shhhh, I can't wait any more! Finish what you started...or...should I?"

Before you can get a word out, Toji's stuffing his cock back into your mouth, selfishly launching himself back into that drunken bliss with a feverish drive.

With each buck of his hips, Toji's shamelessly engraving himself into you—every vein, every curve, every detail of him engrained to the inner plush of your cheeks. He's addicted to it—to you. Your mouth's just so warm, so soft, so tender. He's losing himself to you without the hope of ever pulling back.

"Oh, that's fuckin—Shiiiit, please....please, y're gonna make me cum!" He chokes out.

Through the budding mist of your lashes, you peer up at Toji, studying his battered form. His teeth are gritted, his fists balled up and with the curse of twitches riddling his cock tells you one thing—he's ready to cum. Toji tosses his head back, the devastation crashing through his body. You're bringing him so close to the edge, but it's teetering on a line he can't cross without you.

"Awww, you like this dick, filling up your pretty little mouth like that?"

A sloppy nod is all you can conjure as the tip of Toji's cock nudges at the back of your throat. His greed's bringing about tears to your eyes, fat tears rolling down your puffy cheeks.

He's chuckling at you for the moment until a crippling heat lays seize to his nursed cock. That pit in his stomach is meeting its limit, forcing Toji to sob out slurred curses of his timely demise.

"Fuck! 'm cumming, 'm cumm-"

Toji drags his twitching cock against your tongue for the last time, pulling away from your gaping mouth. His hand rushes to grip the base of his cock, squeezing every drop of him to rush to the mushroomed head. He smears the tip along your tongue, forcing the slick muscle to dip beneath its weight.

"There's your fucking mess, Princess. Don't waste a drop, 'kay?"

His scent swells within the caverns of your mouth, the thick ropes of white sputtering from the fat juicy crown. A grin spreads itself thin over your lips as Toji ruins your mouth with his scent, drinking down the forbidden fruits of your labor.

"Oh...fuuucck," the words mindlessly falling from Toji's broken lips.

It's such an honor for him, bearing witness to your puffy lips nuzzling along his twitching cock. He's made a real mess of himself but you're here, using that tongue of yours to melt away his sins from white to clear. And you do the job well, all evidence of his high sitting along your tongue.

Such a good girl he's got on his hands.

"C'mere," Toji groans, his hands racing to your own. With his hands for balance, you quickly recover onto your feet. It's a team effort—you pull the dress over your head and he's busy with yanking your panties down your legs.

"Turn around–yup, come sit, I wanna show you something."

He drags you down to his level, seating you on his lap with his hands clipping to your hips. Toji's chest defines the arch that befalls your spine, his skin flush against you.

Toji cups at your jaw, his digits sinking into your cheeks. He's got your full, undivided attention, his hold directing your sights to your reflections.

You're dumbly gawking at the lewd display, your nude form melding into Toji's. You couldn't try to separate where your body begins and where his ends, that's just how close Toji kept you. You look so small in his hold, your hands desperately clinging to his biceps.

His presence is commandeering, even with you as the painting's main subject. Not to mention that just between your legs, his cock's hidden away behind the wall of your smothered thighs, hidden from sight but twitching with anticipation. It's just so...so—

"Spread your legs, Princess. 'M not done with you."

You're hesitant to oblige but your legs still creak apart, all the same, granting for Toji's hand to tend to your cunt.

The thick pads of Toji's digits nestle along the puffy lips of your pussy, spreading the sticky mess apart with a grin.

"Fuck, she's so pretty," he marvels at the reflection. He's lost in the picture your pussy paints in the mirror for him, his digits melding into the precious pink hues hidden between your folds.

It's a sticky mess, but he couldn't care less. He's using such care with you as he traces the fragile curve of your folds, gawking at how your hips buck into his touch.

"Look Princess, god, your pussy's so cute. Wonder what'll happen if I do...this..."

His fingers sink past your folds, the delicate petals glued to his touch. He's rubbing out languid strips to ease those woes of yours, his digit slinking through the sticky channel of essence.

That same finger comes to tease your clit, nudging the glossy pearl spry beneath his touch. And you can't hide it, that sprawling heat growing between your legs. Your clit's overtaken by that heat, the nerves answering Toji's call.

Toji's too gentle for his own good, knowing exactly how to get a rise out of you. And he's winning, thanks to the thickening veil of your honey staining his lithe fingers.

"C'mon look, Princess," he urges, his eyes hinging over the lewd display. "It's too pretty for just me to see."

"N-No, Toji. It's too much!" you squirm, but the hold he has over your jaw doesn't budge not even an inch.

His lips press at the curve of your shoulder, his greedy tongue slipping past to lick a lazy trail along your skin as he takes to the shell of your ear.

"'Nd why's it too much for you, Baby? Too much to see how cute your pussy is? You just gotta, but...I guess I can tell you since you don't wanna see..."

"No, Toji, wait!—"

"Shhh, did you hear that?" His fingers gently drumming at your gasping slit. "Oh, you're so fucking wet."

"Mm, 'm not gonna look Toji."

"Why not?"

"I just don't want to! D-Do I have to look, it's feels so good—"

"You don't wanna look? Ha! that's real cute, Princess. Something a brat like you would...Hm...don't tell me you're a brat, mommy...I like those."

"Mm, No, Toji. I can't—" you sob, screwing your eyes shut.

"So that's how it is?" Toji sneers. His voice carries a cold annoyance with you. You know he's planning something to combat your arrogance, something made just for you.

Toji's fingers fan across the sloppy mess of your folds, his thick digits landing a firm slap over the twitching bud of your clit.

Your breathy gasp falls on his ears, but without a care to be found, he's merely ignoring you. His stare turns cold as he scans your splayed rest against his chest. You aren't even making an attempt to free yourself with a response–just keeping your eyes screwed shut and your head whipped away from the mirror's grand reflection.

"Well...are you?" Toji pries sternly. " 'M not gonna stop til you say something. Not when I'm liking this cute lil' pussy."

And not a lie falls from Toji's barred tongue. The lewd crashes of his slicked fingers against your pitiful cunt rings around the room. He's playing with your clit as if he's forgotten that you could cum at any given moment, forgoing composure for the time being. You're just so wet, dripping with the same essence that drives him near mad. He wants a taste so bad, his mouth watering at how your pussy squelches beneath his touch.

Yet all those wishes and desires bubbling at the forefront of Toji's mind didn't stop his fingers from finding the cute bulb, the weeping throbs melding into the tips of his punishing digits.

Your rambling sobs threaten to drown the sweet symphony, Toji simply grins. Your cries are nothing when his blows can carry just a little more weight. His hand winds back this time, cutting through the air to deliver a stinging jolt to trace through your hips.

"Fuck, Toji, okay, okay!" you whine at last, " 'M not a brat!"

Toji halts his wrist for the moment. Finally, you're giving up, another land of his slaps and he's sure you would've soaked his pants. He moves to soothe your throbbing clit with a rewarding slew of laggardly drawn circles.

"Then, tell me... what are you?"

"A...A...princess."

Toji grins as he presses a kiss along your puckering pout. "Good girl! That attitude isn't for you, too pretty for that. 'Nd I like hearing manners from that mouth of yours."

Toji groans as he pulls you further along his lap. His cock's nuzzled right between the curve of your ass and that spout of friction sends his dormant nerves buzzing yet again.

It doesn't help that he's been catching your slick from his lesson of discipline a thick stream of gloss dripping down his cock. Blood rushes to cram into every inch of his cock. Toji can't even try to hide it, not when his cock's growing so heavy that it's bearing that familiar upright curve again.

"Oh shit...'m getting–"

Your hand reaches down between your legs to lace around his girth, the pads of your digits drifting around the blushing tip.

Your hands are so soft that Toji's flinching, his hips jerking as your fist encircles the mushroomed tip. "Sorry, Dollface. Should've grabbed some condoms before coming here.

"I don't mind if we don't use one."

"A-Are you sure? Really, I can wait for when we–"

Toji's long-winded pleas fall short on your ears, your lithe hands swiftly aligning him with your hole.

"Toji," you coo.

"Yes?"

"Hurry up and fuck me already...please."

A part of Toji wishes you wouldn't use such a word—fucking. He isn't fucking you and hasn't been since last night. Not when he wants to see your cute expression, trying to guess how deep he's ended up. He isn't fucking you when he wants to hold you just like this, keeping your body wrapped up in his arms.

He's too interested in finding ways to ruin you just to be fucking you.

He hasn't found a word to describe what exactly he's doing the moment his cock sinks into you, but it surely isn't anywhere near something as heartless and crude as "fucking".

The head of his cock paints your slit in sloppy kisses before his girth robs you of composure. He's watching the swelled mounds of your folds split at his length, painting the throbbing veins in your essence. You feel so good around him, enveloping his cock in your heat.

But it's something he shouldn't even have the honor of bearing witness to, especially when you're back to hiding in the crook of his neck.

"C'mon, let's watch together," he purrs, cupping your jaw firmly once more within his broad digits. He's directing your sights to the pane of glass before you both, your flaring eyes gawking at the scene.

"We can see everything, baby. Get to finally see how greedy this pussy is too–fuck. Taking every inch of me...just...like...that."

He's back to stretching you again, his pudgy girth bullying your pussy to accept him. But his face tells you a different story, his skin flushed in bliss's shade of rouge. He's squirming beneath you, desperately trying to stop himself from getting ahead. He's filling your ear with rambles, mumbling off some mantra of being patient.

Toji's patience's warranted when he huffs out a groan, tossing his head back when he buries himself to the hilt at last. The hairs decorating the base of his cock brush against you as he grinds his hips against your ass, the bush of onyx tickling the bare skin of your cunt.

"See?" he groans breathlessly, "Did such a good job, Baby! N-Now, lemme...lemme make this pussy all mine."

The languid drop of Toji's hips pulls you from his lips, a weak keen escaping your lips. He buys himself an inch or two before flooding your senses again, the thich crown of his cock pecking at your core.

Toji's noticing how you ease up each time he meets your sweet spot with a kiss.

He brings his hips to an angle when his hips drop this time. He's praying that the thick curve of his underside works in his favor to hit all your sweet spots in a single stride. His hands reach to cup at the back of your knees, pinning your limp body to his own.

"Ohmy–fuuuuck, Toji!"

The crashing barrage of waves his hips carry rip through your pert ass, trailing all the way to the underside of your thighs. Suddenly, he's reaching so much deeper than before, his eyes bearing witness to his cock stretching with ease. His excitement's getting the better of him, coaxing Toji to feed your poor cunt with relentless strides.

"That's it, Princess, take that fucking dick!"

Your lips unwind at his praise, his name rolling off your lolling tongue. In the heat of your bliss, you steal a glance at your silhouettes in the mirror, eyes falling right on the sinful fixture of where you and Toji meld. It's a dizzying sight to swallow, your hazy stare watching your own cunt swallow down Toji for every inch he has. It's so lewd but...so...so mesmerizing!

It's wrong but you can't look away from the swell of your lips splitting around the fat of his cock. It's like he belongs there with the way his hips snap riveting strokes to flush your pussy raw. He's pulling everything out of you, rousing the overwhelming swell of heat to rile your nerves.

He's harboring a resilient drive now, earning the badge of a thick white ring wrapped around the base of his cock. But he isn't working this hard for nothing. He's trying to drown out the facts of just how good you feel around him.

Your fluttering walls coddle his shaft with pecks, the suckling heat gnawing at his ebbing resistance, the way you're peering at him with those eyes—those blown hues begging for just an inch of relief. You've got Toji's body running hot, thriving off nothing but carnal lust.

He knows you're close, but he wants to cum with you even more. He's more than aware of the fact that if he hits your core just one more time, that would be your undoing.

But you just can't cum yet...you can't.

Toji graces your visage with a kiss, pity souring his thoughts. You're ruined by him; tear-stained cheeks, spit-ridden lips, and the dumb rambles falling from your mouth prove his theory to be true.

"You wanna cum, don't you, Princess?"

"Y-Yes...p-please, Toji!" you sniffle, nodding frantically at his inquiry.

"T-Then cum with me!" he sobs, his forehead dipping into the crook of your neck.

Your bodies catch the seizing hold of anticipation, the promise of bliss breaking over you. "Mmm, Tojiiii!" you hysterically bawl.

It's selfish to seek out his aid but the pit in your tummy's too much for you alone to handle this time. It's a sweeping spasm, capturing your body whole. Hot white steaks lick across your skin as you arrive at your high. It takes every ounce of your being to sustain, your back bearing a harsh arch. Just as it came, your high quickly ebbs away from you, rendering you into a panting mess.

Toji does all he can to free himself from your silky walls, his hips dropping from your own. He's pitted his cock to relish the final moments alone before the compelling surge of white explodes from the fat head, your inner thigh lathered rich in his scent.

"Fuckfuckfuck, I c-can't stop—hnn!" Toji blubbers, his stomach caving in against your back. He tosses his head back along the divan's frame, writhing beneath the weight of his high pins upon him.

Your blurry vision falls onto Toji, basking in what his own orgasm had planned for him. He's gritting his teeth. You want to help him, but just as your own, this is something Toji has to bear on his own.

All you have for him is a kiss, your lips simmering at the corner of his mouth. It isn't even a minute before your kind gesture is returned by Toji. It's soft kiss, his lips barely sinking into yours. He lazily pulls away, wearing a weak smile to greet you.

"T-Thank you, Princess."

"C'mon, let's get out of here. I'm sure Ami is waiting out there," Toji croaks, pressing one last peck to your cheek.

You nod weakly, planting yourself on the plush carpet. Toji follows right behind you with his hand too fond of your lower back. He helps you first, slipping the sage dress down your body before tending to himself.

"Oh," he calls out, reaching for your panties. "You don't need this right?"

"And what are you going to do with them?"

Toji stuffs the lacy material into his back pocket, tugging away any evidence of his perverted ways.

"Told you I'm no good. I steal too."

"Go ahead...but it's just because I'm too tired to argue right now," you hint as you wait for him by the door.

You and Toji quickly slip past the private fitting room's door, walking into an empty lobby.

"Huh, guess we beat her—"

"Okay guys! I just finished the samples, sorry to keep you guys waiting. Come back next week and I'll have the full order of tops done. We can get his bottom done as well!" Ami announced.

You and Toji watch the woman with dumb, gaping eyes, right until she stands before you both. You sheepishly accept the bag in her hand, Toji reaching out to take it from you.

Guess luck is still on your side.

"Okay," you mutter slowly. I'm gonna use the bathroom. I'll be right back."

Toji offers you a nod, watching you disappear behind the service desk.

"Wow, it's so good to see her back to her old self," Ami shares, her comment piquing Toji's interest.

"Why? Oh! Because her husband passed right?"

"Yes, she's been so sad for the past four years. So seeing her out and about again brings me such ease."

"Wait, four years? Her husband died three years ago..."

"Yes, that's still right," Ami avows, "But he was diagnosed a year before his death. They tried so many treatments, and hospitals—all that money couldn't get him a reasonable recovery. Then, one day he simply called off all treatment and wanted to spend his final days at home with his wife. So even before his initial death, she was already filled with grief."

"Is that so..." Toji hums, his attention called back as you return to the sales floor.

"Okay, sorry about that. Ready to do Toji?"

"Yeah...thank you again, Ami," he waves at Ami, his quick steps bringing him to join your side.

"Bye Ami! See you next week!" you grin.

With the chime of the door's bell, you and Toji are transported back outside onto the streets of Ginza.

The sun's setting tendrils blaze through the orange sky, hues of purple, rose, and yellow casting themselves across the horizon. The buildings nearby bask beneath the gentle glow of dusk as night teases its way in.

"You wanna get on the train again?" Toji hums as he faces you. He's wearing that dumb look again, gawking at how your afterglow drinks in the day's final rays.

"No, it's nice out. Let's walk back home," you suggest, earning a nod from Toji.

You both begin on your trek home, slipping your hand into his.

He's too busy racking his brain to notice the gesture but he welcomes it all the more. You were vague with the details of your husband's death, but to know how much grief you've endured in recent years pulls at Toji's heartstrings.

He knows he's no replacement—hell, you're the one spoiling him. But he knows he can still give you something of his—his time and effort.

In the long run, his time and effort might not amount to much. But somehow and someway, he's hellbent on making his own mission to cheer you up. And no, you didn't ask for a savior, and he's far from being called on.

But call it compassion from the resident wanderer.

"Hey...Princess?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I call you my lady?"

You stop dead in your tracks, forcing Toji to come to his own stop.

"What?"

"How about I call you...my lady? It doesn't need to have any romance behind it and it kinda sums up what you are to me."

"And what are you to me? Not a friend since you get all pissy."

"I don't get pissy, thank you very much," Toji scoffs. He places himself in front of you, wanting to read your reactions as he urgently tries to explain himself.

"I mean, you hired me to be your boy toy. Now, I have no issue saying that, but I can see where that might not sound too pleasing to others. So...you're my lady...my mistress even. How does that sound?"

"I'll take lady, mistress is no better than boy toy."

"Great!" Toji smiles. You playfully roll your eyes, attempting to step away from Toji—but he isn't done with you yet.

No, how could he be?

His hand's swift to grace the dip of your back, pushing you flush against his chest. A mischievous grin curls onto his lips as he scours that bombshell look on your face. It's been a day and you still aren't used to his brash advances—something you know you'll adjust to in time.

But Toji's playing coy, blowing you a teasing kiss. He just has one more thing to say, and he hopes you're ready to agree.

"Can we kiss on it?"

TAGS: @pixelsanji @sleepy3 @slaughterakira @woahhajime @champagnej @shuxjodie @just-yer-average-key @bontensbabygirl @tojitsukaisen @serenareiss @omniuravity @sweeneyblue1 @yukihime-mikeys-girl @kazusugar @jjjangsta @10-jiku @missyasma @a3trogirl @chaoticevilbakugo @luvrdrop @yourmommy52726 @widepipepaladiknight @tojishugetiddies @nekoriots @ladyackermann @tonaken @holychocopie @dukina @kensgff @humantrashcan2000 @batmanslittlelover @23victoria @sisnot @insideboburnham @shima707 @patchi-chi @brokenheartshards @akiko0-0 @mx-luvzz @whore02 @lilystarknette @hannas16 @girlwith-kalei-do-scope-eyes @your-favorite-god @missakward123 @ssetsuka @alwaysfreakingout @httpstoyosi

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Text

thirst // kageyama tobio

tw ⇢ friends to lovers, jealous sex, possessive!tobio, lingerie, unprotected sex, manhandling, dirty talk, nipple play, titjob

wc ⇢ 3.1k

"If you keep wandering around the mall like a hungry nomad, your feet are going to bleed." Tobio eyed your overloaded shopping bags with a mixture of exhaustion and amusement.

You stuck your tongue out at your best friend's teasing. Though the spring day was warm, you relished the coolness of the air-conditioned shopping plaza after hours of storefront hopping.

"Says the guy who spends entire days on the court practicing serves until his shoes wear through." You nudged him playfully with your elbow. "This is cardio for shoppers."

Tobio chuckled, running a hand through his raven locks. As athletes, you both lived by pushing your bodies to the limit - whether that was on the volleyball court for him or outside the dressing room for you.

With a sigh, he resigned himself to more carrying and following as you led the way toward another blindingly well-lit storefront. Your face brightened with childlike excitement at the lacy displays in the windows.

"Oooh, let's go in here!" You grabbed his muscular forearm, pulling him along excitedly. "I need to replenish my underwear supply."

Tobio's eyes widened almost comically as he took in the word "Intimate Apparel" spelled out in a calligraphic logo. A rosy blush crept up the back of his neck, but he allowed you to tug him inside the upscale lingerie boutique.

The boutique's plush crimson carpet muffled your footsteps as you eagerly browsed the satin and lace-trimmed displays. Tobio trailed awkwardly behind, the tips of his ears still tinged pink from embarrassment. Surely as your oldest friend he'd accompanied you lingerie shopping before, but the experience never failed to fluster him.

You ran your fingers along a silk negligee, admiring the delicate floral embroidery. "What do you think, Tobio? This one's pretty."

He swallowed hard, averting his gaze. "I, uh, yyeah. It's...nice."

Sensing his discomfort, you let the filmy fabric fall back against the mannequin's curves. With a teasing grin, you decided to have a little fun at your easily-flustered friend's expense.

"Oh wow, look at this!" You gestured toward a particularly risqué teddy with tantalizing peekaboo cutouts. "Maybe I should get this and finally snag myself a boyfriend to model it for."

Tobio made a small choking sound in the back of his throat. You laughed at the bright red now staining his chiseled features.

Before he could sputter a retort, a petite blonde salesgirl materialized at your side. "That's one of our lacier numbers," she said approvingly. "Very popular with the daring crowd looking to spoil their lovers."

"Well, I don't currently have a lover to spoil," you replied with a wistful pout. "Maybe I'll get it anyway in hopes of someday landing a special someone..."

You made a show of examining the flimsy negligee, tugging at the shimmery fabric as if gauging how it might hug your figure's curves. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched Tobio's reaction intently.

The salesgirl watched your teasing display with an indulgent smile. When you glanced over at Tobio, you found he had wandered a few paces away, studiously examining a display of silk robes. His broad shoulders were tense, whether from discomfort or restraint you couldn't say.

"You know..." The salesgirl leaned in conspiratorially. "If you really want to knock his socks off, you should take a look at our specialty Brazilian line."

Your brows shot up as she led you toward a curtained-off section with a neon "Sexy" sign. Taking in the sheer, fringed confections on the mannequins, you felt your cheeks grow warm.

"These are...wow. Definitely bold," you murmured, running a fingertip along a minuscule G-string. The floss-like scrap of stringing and ribbons could hardly be called underwear at all.

The salesgirl's eyes danced mischievously. "For the woman who wants to drive her man wild. I'd bet you could get that tall, gorgeous friend of yours hot and bothered in two seconds flat wearing one of these numbers."

You threw a furtive glance in Tobio's direction, suddenly envisioning him flustered in an entirely different way. A shiver chased down your spine at the thought.

"You know, these might be just the thing to break the tension..." The words slipped out in a hushed tone.

Seeming to sense she'd accurately read the chemistry between you and your oblivious companion, the salesgirl gave you a conspiratorial wink.

Despite your pounding heart and flushed cheeks, you found yourself at the register purchasing one of the daring lingerie sets before you could overthink it. The salesgirl gave you a sly smile as she tucked the tissue-wrapped parcel into your bag.

"Good luck," she whispered with a wink.

You rejoined Tobio in the main boutique area, your steps feeling uncharacteristically shaky. He eyed your bag with furrowed brows but didn't pry, instead falling into step beside you as you headed for the exit.

The ride back to your neighborhood was a tense, charged silence that made you hyperaware of Tobio's proximity. You snuck sidelong glances at his chiseled profile, wondering if he could possibly guess the secret you now carried in your purchases.

Finally you arrived at your building, ascending the stairs up to your apartments on the third floor. Tobio walked you to your door out of old habit.

"I'll let you get settled," he said gruffly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Long day."

You nodded, keenly aware of the slinky lingerie set tucked away and suddenly burning with curiosity over what Tobio might think if he saw it. Before losing your nerve, you blurted out, "Tobio? Do you maybe want to come in for a minute?"

A flicker of surprise crossed his features before he gave a slow nod. "Sure, if you want some help with your haul."

Once inside, you excused yourself to freshen up, leaving Tobio alone in your living room with your multitude of shopping bags. Quickly you stashed away the lacy negligee in your dresser, hoping he wouldn't stumble across it.

When you returned, you found Tobio rooting through one of the bags, brows knit as he pulled out unfamiliar tissue paper packaging.

Tobio's dark brows knit as he pulled apart the tissue paper, his calloused fingers brushing against sheer, silky fabric. As comprehension dawned, a deep flush crept up his neck.

"Y/N...what is this?" His gravelly voice was tight as he held up the scarcely-there lingerie set.

You froze in the doorway, feeling your own face heat up. Of course he would find that particular purchase. Suddenly your heart was pounding.

"Oh...um, that?" You willed your voice not to waver. "Just a little something I treated myself to at the boutique."

Tobio swallowed hard, unable to tear his eyes away from the flimsy ribbons and frills draped over his large palm. "But...why would you need..."

"Need sexy underwear?" You arched a brow. "Maybe I'm finally going to put myself out there. Try to catch myself a boyfriend."

His penetrating blue gaze snapped up to your face, an unreadable storm brewing in their depths. You held his stare steadily, trying to gauge his reaction.

"A boyfriend?" The slightest edge crept into Tobio's tone. "Who did you have in mind for modeling this stuff?"

You pretended to examine your nails nonchalantly. "Oh, no one in particular yet. Maybe I'll put out feelers on a dating app..."

A muscle ticked in his clenched jaw. With two long strides, Tobio closed the distance between you until his body heat enveloped you.

"You really want to prance around in lingerie for some random guy?" His low rumble made your knees feel weak. "Let someone else see you like this?"

Dragging in a shuddering breath, you tilted your face up until it was a scant inch from his. "Would you prefer I only modeled it for you, Tobio?"

His gaze darkened with a molten heat, one large hand settling possessively on your waist as he angled his head down until his mouth hovered a hairsbreadth from yours.

Tobio's heated gaze dropped to your parted lips for a loaded moment before he tilted his chiseled jaw, the roughness of his stubble grazing your sensitized skin as his mouth brushed a feather-light, tantalizing caress against the corner of your lips.

A shuddering breath escaped you at the electrifying almost-kiss that was somehow more maddeningly provocative than a full-on lip-lock. Tobio's lashes were low, his pupils swallowing the blue of his irises as he leaned back just enough to hold your yearning stare.

With agonizing deliberation, he pressed the lacy negligee into your hand, his calloused fingers boldly grazing the swell of your breast as he stated in a low rasp, "Put it on. For me."

You felt your core tighten with heated anticipation at the commanding growl underlying his words. There was no mistaking the want, the hunger simmering just beneath Tobio's restraint now.

His hand fell away as you clutched the lingerie to your chest like a lifeline. You struggled not to squirm under the smoldering promise flickering in the depths of his eyes. With leaden legs, you forced yourself to turn and head for your bedroom before your weakening knees could betray you.

Shoulders squared, you shot him one last look over your shoulder. "Don't go anywhere."

The words emerged lower, huskier than you intended. But from the way Tobio's strong throat reflexively constricted, you knew the message had landed.

In your bedroom, you tugged the sundress over your head and quickly shimmied into the sheer bra and matching panties, taking in the sight of yourself in the mirror. You were no stranger to lace, satin, and all the accoutrements of seduction, but the lingerie set was far more scandalous than anything else in your closet. The delicate ribbons and sheer panels accentuated your curves, making you feel impossibly more exposed - and more irresistible.

Giving a little shimmy, you adjusted the straps and let out a shuddering breath, nerves fluttering. It was hard to believe that the moment you'd been imagining and fantasizing about for years was finally here.

Pulling open the door, you were met with Tobio's piercing blue gaze roving over you with unmasked hunger as he stood hunched over with his hands braced against the doorframe, trapping you in his shadow.

He straightened, a predatory glint flashing across his features. Your pulse quickened as he backed you slowly toward the bed, the mattress dipping under your weight as you sat back.

Tobio loomed over you, his large frame blocking out the light, the air crackling with tension as his hooded gaze swept over you. He looked every inch the conquering king surveying his domain.

You fought to steady your erratic breaths, feeling suddenly dizzy. A small whimper escaped you as Tobio reached out, the rough pads of his fingers skimming the sheer, gossamer panels of your bra, tracing the swell of your breasts.

Your body trembled as he brushed his thumb across your nipple, sending a jolt of electric heat straight to your core. Tobio's intense, heated gaze never left yours as he repeated the motion, his touch firm and deliberate, watching you respond.

"This is the kind of stuff you wear for someone who’s about to fuck you," he said, his voice a low rumble that had you clenching your thighs together. "And you're telling me you wanted to model this shit for some random guy?"

Your breathing quickened, a fresh wave of arousal flooding you as he palmed your breasts through the thin fabric, his thumbs and forefingers deftly tweaking the hardened buds.

"What if I told you I didn't want you to model it for anyone but me?" Tobio's low, silken tone was almost a purr as his calloused fingertips drifted higher, curling around the slender straps holding up the scant top.

Slowly, torturously, he eased them down your shoulders, his eyes following the path of his movements, drinking in every inch of bare flesh. You watched, transfixed, as he pulled the fabric down further, exposing your breasts and the hardened, rosy peaks.

Tobio let the straps fall to your elbows, his large hands moving to cup your naked breasts, squeezing them with just enough force to make you gasp. A small smirk curled his lips as he thumbed your sensitive nipples.

"Answer me."

"I..." The words caught in your throat, and you had to swallow hard. "I wouldn't let anyone else see me like this. Only you."

Satisfaction flared in Tobio's gaze at the confession, his thumb and forefinger twisting the pebbled buds harder, sending a fresh wave of sparks dancing over your skin. He let his knuckles dance over your skin, skimming the smooth expanse of your throat before he roughly slammed you down onto the bed, his broad frame covering yours.

His lips captured yours, and the kiss was fierce, possessive, claiming, as he nipped and sucked at your bottom lip. His tongue plundered your mouth, demanding and unyielding.

Tobio's calloused hand slid along your skin, skimming the curve of your waist before palming your thigh, the touch scorching through the sheer panties. Your body felt on fire as he traced a finger along the elastic waistband, teasing and taunting, his teeth scraping against your bottom lip before he bit down, sucking hard enough to draw a moan from you.

Your hips bucked as his hand delved lower, his fingers pushing the panties aside. You moaned again as his thumb swirled around your swollen clit, applying the perfect amount of pressure.

Tobio chuckled lowly against your neck, his breath hot on your skin as he kissed and licked his way down to your breasts. You arched against him as his tongue swirled around one of your hardened nipples, and then his teeth were biting down, and you were moaning his name, begging for more.

The sound of his zipper sliding down was like a gunshot, and your core tightened in anticipation. He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his jeans, shoving them and his boxers off completely, his thick, erect cock springing free.

The sight of his length was almost intimidating, and for a moment you wondered how he would even fit. He smirked at your reaction, a gleam in his eye as he rubbed the tip against your wet slit.

"Not yet." His voice was low and husky, the promise of pleasure dripping from his tone. "I want to fuck those tits first."

Next thing you knew, his hands were on your hips, tugging you further down the bed until he was straddling your stomach. His hands bunched up the lacy material, his cock sliding against your sternum.

He grabbed the front of the negligée you wore, the lacy cups forcing your tits together as Tobio held the fabric as what could only be described a rein. Your lips parted in a gasp as his thick length slid between the soft globes, the tip of his cock appearing above the sheer cups.

Tobio's gaze was fixed on yours, his eyes dark with desire. You couldn't tear your eyes away, watching as his hips rocked, his cock thrusting between your tits. The sight was obscene, and you felt a fresh wave of arousal flood your core.

The sensation of his cock sliding between your tits was unlike anything you'd ever experienced. The friction was intoxicating, and you could feel the tension building in his thighs as his pace quickened, his length growing slick from the beads of precum that had gathered at the tip.

He leaned forward, his hands gripping the headboard as his hips continued to piston, his cock thrusting in and out of the makeshift opening of your bra. His eyes were half-lidded, his jaw clenched, his muscles rippling under his skin.

Your own hands found their way to your nipples, playing with the sensitive nubs, and Tobio growled at the sight. The sound went straight to your core, and you squeezed your thighs together, desperate for some relief.

You could tell he was close, his pace growing erratic, his breaths coming in sharp pants. His hips snapped, and then his body tensed, and you felt his cock throb between your tits. His cum spurted, landing in white ropes across your throat andchest, and he continued to rock his hips, fucking his release out.

His chest heaved as he stared down at you, and a slow smirk tugged at his lips. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss, his tongue sliding against yours, tasting himself.

You were a mess, his release staining the fabric of the lingerie, the front of it twisted and wrinkled. But Tobio didn't seem to care, his hands still tangled in the lace as he tugged it down, exposing your breasts again.

"I wanna see those tits bounce when I'm pounding into you," he said, his tone dark and possessive, as if he had no intention of letting you leave his sight.

Before you could react, he grabbed your thighs and yanked you to the edge of the bed, his hands digging into the soft flesh as he spread them wide. You were soaked, your pussy dripping and aching to be filled.

Tobio gripped his cock, using the tip to nudge your sodden panties aside. You gasped as he slowly pressed into you, and your walls stretched to accommodate his thickness. He paused for a moment, giving you time to adjust, before he began to thrust.

His pace was relentless, his hips snapping against yours, his balls slapping against your ass. You could feel the tension building, your muscles clenching around him as his cock plunged in and out.

Your moans were loud and wanton, and you were sure your neighbors could hear, but you didn't care. All that mattered was Tobio and his thick cock driving into you, the feel of him filling you, the slap of his skin against yours.

His grip tightened around your thighs, pressing them back until you were almost bent in half. His cock hammered into you, and the new angle made your toes curl, his length hitting all the right spots.

Your orgasm hit you like a truck, and you cried out, your pussy clamping down around him as you gushed and sprayed him with an obscene amount of liquid. He kept thrusting, prolonging your pleasure, his eyes locked on yours.

His pace faltered, and his body stiffened, and you could feel his cock throbbing inside you, spurting and filling you with his seed. He grunted, his cock pumping rope after rope, his thrusts slowing as he milked his release.

Finally he stilled, his length buried inside you, and his gaze locked on yours. His lips curled into a smug smirk, and he leaned down, brushing his lips against yours.

"Don't think I'm done with you yet," he said, his voice husky. "I plan on fucking you over every surface in this apartment, and then some."

#haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x reader smut #kageyama tobio smut #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama smut #haikyuu kageyama #kageyama x reader #kageyama tobio #kageyama tobio x reader smut #kageyama x reader smut

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lisenberry · 2 days

Text

We drift in and out

Chapter 3: Did I find you, or you find me?

E/NSFW/MDNI

CW: Consensual Somno, Light Breeding, Canon-Typical Violence, Angst

6k (I know, I went nuts)

10k COMPLETE!

This whole fic started with one picture of a man with hairy arms holding a baby. Everything that came after was a fever dream.

Ch. 1 , Ch. 2, AO3

You had one last night together. Eighteen short hours before a black Land Rover would pick him up and take him away. Off to catch a plane to some forward operating base in a remote, foreign place.

He’d been home with you for four months, by far his longest leave yet. With each day, you’d gotten more comfortable, wondering if maybe he’d become permanent. That instead of just playing house, you were living something real. Building something special together.

That your plans could change, and you could let the fearful part of you rest. That doubtful voice that kept you always prepared. Always on. The survival mode that kept you moving forward but also stopped you from slowing down long enough to breathe. To enjoy.

It was a skill that benefited you in your work. The single-minded attention to detail and success. And when you’d learned you were pregnant, it had kept you from giving into the panic of the unknown. But once she was born, you didn’t have a choice, but to sit with it all. The joy, and the exhaustion. Slow, blissful days had become your routine.

Now you were facing the plan again. The one he wasn’t in. You’d survive, of course, but the bleakness of it cut like a wound. You should’ve known nothing so perfect could last forever. Maybe you did know, deep down. Maybe he did, too, and that’s why you kept each other just a bit out of reach.

But you still had a little more time. A few more memories to make before it came to an uncertain end.

You popped out to Marks & Sparks for supplies to make dinner. It had become a little holiday for you in the last few months. He’d stay home with the baby, and you’d put on real clothes and do your hair and escape for a few hours to squeeze the fruits and smell the cheeses. Go aisle by aisle and daydream about new recipes to try.

Not this time. This time you hurried through as fast as you could. Wasted not a minute as you snatched up everything on your list and rushed to get back to them.

They weren’t in your apartment when got home, so you crossed the hall and knocked on the door to his.

“It’s open!” His voice rang from inside, as you tried the knob and walked in.

He had the baby’s highchair in the kitchen, and the dining room table set with fine china and candles. Music crooned from some hidden speaker, something classical you’d never heard before.

“What’s all this?” You asked, as you set down the bags of groceries on his counter.

“I thought we could eat out tonight. Something different.” He stood with his hands at his hips, and a burp cloth strung over his shoulder. A scheming smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes. They didn’t crinkle at the edges the same way you’d gotten used to.

“You’re okay with me making a mess of your kitchen?” You teased. “You know I’ll use every pan and utensil at my disposal.”

Your place was lovely, but his side of the building had twice the space, and a balcony that overlooked Hyde Park. During the few times you visited, it had felt like stepping into a different world. Like a fancy hotel suite in a far-off country, in the way that it had visitors but never really felt lived in. Sanitized into a blank slate, adaptable to anyone who crossed the threshold in search of an escape from their mundane reality.

Or like a museum, it was a place that existed outside of time.

“You cook, I’ll clean up.” He leaned his hips back against the granite and opened his arms to it welcomingly.

It made sense that he’d want to spend his last night in his own home. His own bed.

“Suit yourself,” you plopped a smacking kiss on the baby’s downy head as she sat contentedly in her chair, chewing on a colorful toy.

When you turned your attention back to him, he waited patiently for his greeting. The longing with which he first looked at you and your daughter the day you’d come home was back again. It had seemed like the start of something then.

This time it felt like the end, as you pulled up on your tip toes and pressed a kiss to his lips. Short and sweet. If you hooked your arms around his neck and buried your face in his neck, like every corner of your soul was aching to do, you’d never let go.

The food would rot on the counter and the hard things would never get done.

So, you settled back down and unpacked the bags in front of you.

“Will you pick the wine? I’m making your favorite.”

In lifetimes past, you would’ve dressed up and gone to The Midland in King’s Cross for dinner. Fed each other oysters and champagne. Danced until the early hours of the morning and crashed wildly into bed. Shared a cigar afterwards, naked but for the shelter of each other’s arms.

This time, you made roast beef with fingerling potatoes, minty peas, and glazed carrots. Topped with gravy and with a side of Yorkshire pudding to sop it all up.

It’d be some time before the baby could join in on the feast, but she flailed with enthusiasm at the smells and the excitement with which the two of you ate. Oblivious to how much her lukewarm cereal and the bottle that she could now almost hold on her own paled in comparison.

In place of a West End show, there were airplane spoons and milky sneezes to keep you laughing. Something to focus on besides the future. Besides each other.

The chasm that was too deep and too far to cross, let alone name.

As if on cue, with the last sip of wine, she started to fuss. Fisted her eyes and arched her back in surrender as John rose to soothe her. You’d have many more nights to put her to bed, but who knew what awaited him. You gave him the time alone as you collected the place settings and started the cleaning that he’d promised you.

The little one sighed so heavily against his chest as she curled into him, burying her fingers in his shirt. You knew the feeling, ached for it as you silently cursed your ability to dirty so many dishes making a meal.

He was gone long enough for you to handwash the china and fill the dishwasher, and you wondered if she fought sleep, or if he simply lingered a little longer. Did he tell her a story, or share some secret that was just between them?

The polished wood floorboards creaked under his weight when he finally returned to the kitchen. There was a stiffness to his towering form, as if he was flexing under an invisible weight.

“Just in time. Everything’s already done,” you chided, gently, as you dried your hands on a towel.

“I set her up in the portable crib with the monitor. In the bedroom next to mine.”

“Her first sleepover.” You still couldn’t look at him. You hadn’t yet, had you? Not really. Not since he got the call earlier that day.

Since you’d told him he was never meant to be a part of your life. That you could live without him.

A lie that he’d surely seen through, but you needed to keep for yourself as you busied your hands and kept your back to him.

But he wouldn’t let you hide, as he stepped behind you and pulled you in.

“Don’t pull away. Please. Not yet.” He tucked his grizzled chin into the curve of your neck.

“I’m trying.” You let your head fall back against him, vaguely aware that the music was still playing. Something sad and slow as you swayed to the beat of it.

His hands rested on your hips as he spun you around to face him. If a kiss could fix everything, you gave it to him then. Did your best as you fisted his hair and pulled him down to you, while his palms roamed lower to cup your ass and lift you onto the counter.

Like meat and wine, you savored his lips and his tongue as he delved even deeper. Splitting you open and demanding more. Demanding everything.

Your shirt was over your head and his roughened fingers scratched along the skin of your back, massaging and kneading the sides of your spine while he unhooked your bra. The same muscles you’d kept rigid all day he coaxed into pliancy with each stroke as a weak moan slipped past your lips.

“That’s a girl. Be soft and sweet for me, will you?” He started off slow at the tip of your ear, trailing light, tickling kisses down the shell and to where the lobe met your neck.

It sent shivers down your arms, and your naked breasts budded to peaks as they grazed against the cool smoothness of his shirt. You didn’t want cool, or smooth, just heat and texture as you pulled it off his shoulders and wrapped your legs around his hips.

He groaned at the contact, a fierce and hungry sound as he took one of your hands and slotted it between you. Pressed your palm against the bulge in his pants and grinded against it, letting you feel the way it grew and hardened at your touch.

“Tell me you’ll miss me. Fucking lie to me, just say it,” he grated out, against your collarbone. Miss him? Lie to him? It would be a lie to say you wouldn’t. “I need to hear you to say it.”

“I miss you already,” you whined, as you slid your hands from his groin to his ass and anchored him closer to the dampening heat at your core.

“I’m right here.”

“Then take me to bed. And show me how much you’ll miss me.” It was your turn to grind against him, rubbing the bud of your arousal greedily along the lip of his fly through your thin linen pants as your tits bobbed wantonly against his furry chest.

“Not going to last long if you keep doing that, love,” he growled, lifting you up again and carrying you down the hallway. “I’d rather take my time.”

And he did, starting with his fingers, then his mouth. Drawing out each sensation like he was mapping the stars. Exploring the far reaches of your body and forging new paths until you were shaking and spent.

You marked him in return. Staked a claim on the meat of his pec with a dark red love bite as he came hard and hot inside your pulsating quim. Filled you up with a contented smile on his face, as if there was no better feeling in the world. No place he’d rather be.

“Be back before it fades, okay?” You nuzzled the hair around the spot with your nose as you drifted off beside him, his fingers lazily circling your hole to push the leaky drops of his seed back in.

Did he have hopes that it would take?

Did you?

Later, a strangled sound, like a wounded animal woke you from a fitful sleep. At some point, you must’ve turned to your side and faced away from him because he was behind you. Pulling at your hips and burying his head between your shoulder blades.

“John? What is it?”

“Just a dream. A bad dream.”

You felt the swell of his cock as he sought out the smooth shelter between your thighs. Arching against him instinctively, you curved onto your back and parted your legs as he absently rutted around to find your opening. Still brimming with the sticky spend from your last bout.

He’d always been a giver, but this one was just for him as he worked out his nightmare on your flesh, your insides, your soul. It felt like a battle. A whole damn war as he smothered you with his heavy, dead-weight body and took ground, pounding away at your sensitive, stimulated cunt.

You wondered if he was even awake, or if he was still in the dream, as he fucked into you roughly and muttered far away words. Bit back his own tears as they mixed with the sweat on your skin.

“Mine...Fucking mine...Not letting you go...Not to anyone else...”

Deprived of oxygen from his bulk on your chest, you almost blacked out with the force of your climax, caught by surprise at the way the mound of hair at his base aroused your clit into bloom with each thrust. A tenderness amidst the brutal onslaught. A divine mercy.

If you had air, you’d have screamed at the intensity of it. Spotty flashes of light broke the darkness as you felt the last of your spurting aftershocks flutter around him, soaking you both and easing the incinerating friction from the stretch of him.

You could only clench your teeth and your walls as he shuddered with the strength of his own fresh release. With his face buried in your shoulder, you knew he didn’t smile this time. The sorrow of it hit you like a blow to your heart as you felt him stiffen with awareness, the fog of sleep clearing from his consciousness.

“I’m yours. There’s no one else, John,” you panted, begged, as he eased up onto to his elbows to give you enough space to take a breath. “Only you.”

********

Before you knew it, the black Land Rover was waiting like a harbinger along the street below.

“Here’s the keys to the truck, and to my place. Just in case.” He tossed a set into the bowl you kept on the sideboard. “I know how much you’re dying to go spying in my cupboards.” He raised a amused eyebrow to match the gentle hitch in his mustache.

“I wouldn’t do that.” Except you totally would. At the first opportunity.

“Afraid of what you’ll find?”

“An expired box of Earl Grey in the kitchen, perfectly sorted socks in the bedroom. Stinky smelling beard oil in the bathroom.” You flashed a cheeky grin at the last, in an effort to keep the tone light.

If he could be strong, so could you. You wouldn’t be the one to break. No matter what you felt like on the inside. You’d save it for when he was gone.

“Beard oil? This is all natural.” As if you’d insulted his manhood, he smoothed his mustache down with two hands, in a way you’d seen him do a thousand times. He’d trained any willfulness from his facial hair with nothing but nose grease and perseverance. Molded by time and patience, like marble cliffs and silt-shined creek beds.

“But I was right about the socks though, wasn’t I?”

“And the tea.” He hitched his mouth into a smile and turned his focus to the gurgling baby perched on his hip, yapping and cooing like she was in on the conversation.

The way he looked at her gave you hope that he’d call it all off. He’d sit back down on the couch and turn on the football. Put his heavy feet up on your table and let his flight leave without him.

“I’m sure we can find some priceless antiques in there she can teeth on.” They would start coming in soon. Another change he’d miss.

“Look, you don’t have to wait.” He paused to clear the words he was looking for from his throat. “I understand if you—”

“I just got you, John,” you cut him off, saving him from the self-sacrificing speech, and looked down at her chubby fist wrapped in a white-knuckle grip around his finger. “You’re not getting rid of us yet.”

Don’t let go, sweetheart. Don’t let him go. You willed it into her with your own thoughts.

Your world had gotten so small since she was born. You’d gone from having a job that needed you, coworkers and clients with a network of responsibilities, down to having just one job.

One person who needed you.

But it would’ve been a lot smaller without him. How lonely would you have been without someone to share it all with? How much of him had seeped into your life, and your heart?

“Be nice to your mum,” he whispered against her soft head, as he kissed her cheek and passed her back to you quickly. Looking everywhere but at you. “You have Kate’s number? In case you need anything?”

You pulled him closer with your free hand to his waist, forcing him to see you. Eyes wide and blue, he looked scared. For the first time.

Anything more than a kiss to the forehead would have broken you both. You’d already said your goodbyes the night before, and again that morning. So, you simply tilted your head up to him, your own eyes kind and trusting, and felt his beard graze your skin one last time.

And then you watched him go.

********

By the third week, nothing in your apartment smelled like him anymore. Everything had been washed, and the windows had been left open too long to let in the cool fall breeze. Looking around, you realized that nothing in your home was his.

He’d come through your life with a force and left no trace behind, as if he was never even there. It wasn’t right. You wished with renewed clarity that you’d taken more pictures of him. That you’d recorded every moment.

Something to show your daughter, someday, if she ever questioned whether or not she was loved. Something you could show yourself, when your mind tricked you into believing it was just a dream.

It was the need to seek out that connection, that comfort, that had you unlocking the door to his flat and letting yourself inside. It was dark, and too quiet. Cold and cavernous, like he was the one who heated it and gave it light.

With the baby bouncing on your hip, you explored from room to room. Three bedrooms and four bathrooms. And still, you couldn’t find a trace of him anywhere there either.

His sheets had been washed since you’d spent the night. His bathroom scrubbed of any lingering soap by the cleaning company that came once a month to keep it free of dust and spiders while he was away.

Trapped in time until the next visitor passed through.

Your grief and frustration sprung anew as you moved into his office. Surely it would have something. The indent of his body in a leather seat, or the half-burnt end of a forgotten cigar.

But his chair was too firm to leave a crease, and his ashtray was clean.

There were no medals or honors hung along the walls, and the top of his desk was empty, except for one framed photo. It was exactly what you were looking for, but at the same time, something you never expected.

It was from four years before, when he’d talked you into running a marathon together for a charity for wounded veterans. You remembered the day clearly but never knew someone had taken a picture. It must’ve been at the end, because you were both dewy-faced and soaked in sweat, smiling like mad.

His arm was around your shoulder and yours was at his waist. You looked like a couple. Like you were in love. Was that how you always looked when you were together?

Was this what you’d been missing out on all this time?

Surely, there were others. You’d open a drawer and find photos of him with other people. His parents, his friends. Other women.

But as you pulled them apart one by one, you only found files of old bank statements and tax forms. Until you got to the bottom. A lone manila envelope, padded and thick.

With your name written in the wonky, hurried strokes of his hand.

Your own hands shook as you turned it over to find it sealed. He must’ve wanted you to see what was inside, or else it wouldn’t have your name on it.

Right?

It felt like paper, documents of some kind, but with something else to give it bulk. You shouldn’t have seen it, shouldn’t have gone digging through his stuff. But he’d known you were going to snoop. Had practically dared you to, didn’t he?

You tucked it back in where you’d found it. Whatever it was, he could give it to you when he came back. You’d promised him that you’d wait, and you would.

However long it took.

Just as you shut the drawer, your phone began to buzz in your pocket, jolting you guiltily as if you’d been caught. You took it out, expecting it to be just another spam call, but paused in immediate horror at the name across the screen.

(John’s) Kate

He’d saved the contact in your phone in case you needed to get in touch with him. You couldn’t think of a situation where you’d be justified in pulling his attention away from a job, but you could only think of one reason she’d be calling you.

“Hello,” you answered.

*******

Two hours later, your apartment was full. Well, there were only four guests gathered around your coffee table and perched with varying degrees of curiosity and tension along your couch and side chairs, but it felt overcrowded considering their size.

Three men that you’d never seen before, and then there was Kate. Somehow, she took up just as much space as they did. She carried herself with an air of authority that made your spine straighten reflexively.

“He didn’t tell us he had a family.” The clean cut one in the ball cap, who’d introduced himself as Kyle, spoke first as you poured him a cup of tea. “We all wanted to express our support in person.”

“There wasn’t much to tell until recently,” you smiled, slightly, trying to be a good hostess despite the circumstances.

“You’ve been his emergency contact for the last five years,” Kate added as she declined your offer of milk and sugar.

“I didn’t know that.” That was as long as you’d known each other. Did he really not have anyone else?

“He’s a very private man.” She did you the favor of talking about him as if he wasn’t gone. As if there was still hope.

“How did you know about it?” MacTavish, the stocky Scot with the close-cut mohawk intoned back to her, with a bristling hostility you couldn’t miss.

“I’m CIA. It’s my job to know everyone’s secrets.”

You thought maybe she was trying to make a joke, but her face was dead serious.

“We never would have let him—” He looked regretfully from you to your baby as the blond one with the black surgical mask cut him off with a supportive hand to his knee.

“Have any of you ever successfully talked him out of something once he’d put his mind to it?” You looked around at the faces of the men staring back at you. The people he spent all his time with when he wasn’t with you. “I’m sure that’s why he didn’t tell you. Afraid you’d treat him differently if he was a real person.”

Perhaps for the same reason he’d never told you how he felt. Afraid to make it something real. Something it would hurt to lose.

“Why don’t you tell me what happened, please,” you continued, bracing for the worst.

“A massive fuck up from the beginning, is what it was—” Kyle interjected, heatedly, before he was interrupted by a pointed look from Kate.

“It’s mostly classified, of course. So, we can’t go into details. But John requested an indefinite leave of absence about four months ago. In the interim, his team was assigned to assist another task force in a sensitive operation.” She spoke evenly as if reciting a sequence of events before a committee.

And you listened, all the while searching for the bits she left unsaid. The parts that she hid behind her narrative.

Phrases like, ‘severe loss of life’, ‘pinned down in hostile territory’, and ‘unable to ascertain status’, were cold, calculated ways of saying something went horribly wrong.

You weren’t a naïve civilian who devoured sound bites at face value. You worked with government contracts all the time. American, British. They were all the same. ‘Cover your ass,’ was their collective motto.

When she finished, you had more questions than answers. But one thing stood out in your mind. He hadn’t been home for so long by accident. He’d chosen to stay. He’d given up his team, indefinitely, to be with you.

“So, if I understand correctly, it was a massive fuck up. You him called away, despite his clear wishes to be left alone, to save your ass and theirs.” You turned your attention from Kate over to the team. “And he got you out. And you left him behind?”

He’d quit for you. But he’d gone back for them.

“Not willingly.” The one in the mask, Lieutenant Riley, spoke up for the first time. His eerily dark eyes shot daggers at Kate, as if the fault was hers.

“He knew what he was doing. We needed to reassess the objective and regroup. And I’m available to discuss it at length with you another time, Lieutenant.”

“We know he’s alive.” MacTavish reassured you. “If he was dead, they’d be broadcasting his body and celebrating all over the dark web.”

Oh, what a relief. The visual turned up bile your throat.

“And if he’s been taken prisoner or something?”

“He’s an exceptionally valuable hostage. We’ll have a few weeks at least, while they interrogate him, before he’s ransomed.”

Tortured, she meant. The bile turned to acid, and you forced yourself not to be sick.

“So, what now?” You were in a daze. Kate’s firm, rational, voice grounded you and kept you present when all you wanted to do was breakdown. To scream and cry and pound your fists against their chests to get back out there and find him.

Her position demanded it, you imagined. Judging by the tension flowing between the team, they ached to do just that. It was as if they were held back by some invisible muzzle. Reined in by years of service. One strong woman was all that kept them from charging off to take matters into their own hands.

“We’ll keep you updated as soon as we have news,” Kate answered, softer than before. Perhaps aware that her words alone held little comfort. That they were as grim as hollow condolences. “But here, standard protocol. We had it stripped of anything sensitive. There’s only a few pictures and text messages left. It’s unlocked.”

She handed you his battered old phone. The screen was scratched up, and the case was cracked enough to be useless protection. You didn’t think they even supported this model anymore. You couldn’t help but smile when you saw it.

‘It’s busted to bloody hell, but still hanging on’, he’d said about it once with a proud laugh. You prayed that he was the same, wherever he was.

“Thank you. It was nice to meet you all,” you replied, politely, suddenly anxious to be alone. To fall apart in peace. “I wish it was under better circumstances. Maybe next time we can have a drink and a proper laugh. When he’s home.”

“We’ll get him back, Mrs. Price.” It was Kyle who pulled you into a hug, as if you were family. “I promise.”

It was the first time anyone had called you that, and you didn’t correct him. In the moment, it was a comfort. A universal truth that you longed to hear from someone else’s lips.

The others followed suit with their goodbyes, but their warmth and concern were a shallow replacement for the man you were missing. Kate settled for a stoic handshake before you closed the door on them all and set your back against it for support.

The phone in your hand was heavy as you pulled it up to see his text messages, looking for any possible clue or something to keep hope alive. There were a few off color jokes between him and his mates. Notes to you about what was for dinner, and silly photos he’d taken of the baby.

One single text exchange with Kate. As if he’d deleted them as soon as they came in. Or perhaps Kate had wiped them as part of her pruning. It was from four months prior.

I hope you know what you’re doing.

Never more certain in my life.

Were they talking about you? Of his choice to leave? It reminded you of something else he’d left behind. Something you’d forgotten in the whirlwind of the last few hours.

When you held the envelope again in your hands, you didn’t think twice about ripping through the seal. Inside was a stack of handwritten letters, all dated and signed with his name.

You focused on the one on top, from the day before he’d left.

Hey love,

If you’re reading this, then something must’ve happened to me. Or your curious nature got the best of you, and you went snooping around my desk.

I hope it’s the latter because it’s time you knew, and who knows when I’ll get the courage to tell you myself. But if it’s the former, then I’m sorry.

I can’t say I’m surprised, though. There’s only so many times I can dare death to find me before it wins. You just have to know that I did my best, for whatever it’s worth.

I never felt like I could have a family. I didn’t deserve that sort of peace after the things I’ve done. I’ve taken too many lives to have any chance at a happy one. Killed too many sons to be entitled to any of my own.

It’s been my purpose. What I’m good at. And I never wanted to bring that burden home to anyone else.

Then I saw you again after I made myself a promise to stay away from you this time. You were so fearless and calm. I just wanted to be near you. Close enough that you might scare away the darkness in me.

If someone like you, and her, could trust me and see any good in me, then maybe I’m not such a monster after all.

You made me believe in fate. In something bigger that was beyond my control. I just hope that it’s not done with me yet. That it’s not done with us.

If this is the end, then I just want to say thank you and leave you with everything. Everything that I have, and everything that I left unsaid.

These letters are from all the other times I’ve done this. The other missions that called me away since we met, in the event that I didn’t come back. You were the only thing worth coming home to, and I’m sorry I didn’t share them sooner.

If you’re just being nosy, and I’m already warm in our bed with the baby drooling on my chest, I hope I’ve already told you a thousand times how much I love you. How lucky I am to have known your love in return.

And I hope you’re already wearing one of these rings. I couldn’t decide which one, so I’ll let you choose. They’ve been in my family for ages. All yours now.

All my heart, John.

The pages were flooded with salty tears by the time the jingle at the bottom of the envelope caught your attention. Five different rings. Yellow and white gold, glistening diamonds, emeralds, and sapphires. Old and new.

But not yet. You didn’t dare to touch them yet. Didn’t choose. You believed in fate, too. He wasn’t gone, and it wasn’t the end.

*******

The next days passed by in a blur, waiting by the phone. You were thankful for the baby, as she didn’t let you wallow or crumble the way you wanted to. There were still diapers to change, and bottles to fill. Smiles to fake and colic to soothe.

You wondered if she missed him, too. If she even noticed he was gone.

It was three in the morning when you got the call, and you shot up in bed, sleep quickly forgotten when you answered. You didn’t even bother to look at the caller ID.

“John!”

“Hiya, darling.” His voice was a faint groan of relief.

“Where are you?” You held the phone away from your face just long enough to see the long, foreign number with a country code you couldn’t place. “Does Kate know where you are?”

“I don’t have a lot of time. I’m in the blind. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

You flung off your covers and rushed to your computer. He was in trouble.

“I’m here. Are you hurt?”

“Not bad.” You could hear him smiling, the way the words huffed out through pained lips. It was definitely bad.

You had to keep him talking, to stay on the line long enough for you to work. The laptop took forever to start up. You hadn’t used it since you’d left your employment, and it must’ve needed a hundred updates. But you didn’t have time as your fingers trembled anxiously over the keys.

This was what you did. This was your job. You designed software that could find people. Find targets. Needles in the giant haystack that was the world.

You set the phone to speaker mode and plugged it in to your program.

“Whose phone is this, John?” It would be encrypted, you presumed. You wouldn’t be lucky enough to have its location turned on.

“An old friend. I’d put him on, but he’s not with us anymore, I’m afraid. Poor fellow took a fall.” Another gurgled laugh. “But his name was Makarov. When you talk to Kate, tell her the mission’s complete.”

“You can tell her yourself. You’re going to be fine. Just keep talking to me.”

You buzzed through lines of code, searching for the one you needed.

“How’s the poppet? Is she being a good girl?”

“She’s sleeping. She’s okay. Misses you. Can’t wait to see you.”

Got it! You broke through the encryption and pinned his location using satellite GPS.

“It’s not looking good, love.”

“Do you believe in fate, John?” You asked, as you used your laptop’s connection to call Kate.

There was a reason you’d met each other. You were certain now that nothing had been by chance. You were meant to find him. You were meant to find each other.

“Ah, went pawing through my drawers, did you? Which ring did you pick?”

“I’ll show you when you get home,” you promised as the line finally connected. “Kate! I know where John is. You have to hurry.”

You sent her the coordinates to the exact centimeter. He was deep underground, in some kind of a bunker. Or an old mineshaft. To her credit, Kate didn’t argue or ask where you got your intel.

Two hours later, you were still on the phone with him. The light began to creep slowly through the curtains, bringing with it a brand new day. But his breath had slowed, and his words came thicker from his throat.

“Just a little longer, okay?” You didn’t let him sense your fear as you quietly willed your life into him, to keep him hanging on.

Where the fuck were they?

The line had gone too quiet when you heard the blast.

“John! John, what was that?” You prayed it was the team, and not a fresh wave of enemy combatants come to finish the job.

“In here!” John’s voice, with a renewed strength.

“Bravo-7 to Watcher. Eyes on Bravo-6. We’ve got him.” You heard Lieutenant Riley’s unmistakable accent breakthrough as he got closer to the phone. “Have med-evac waiting topside. He’s in rough shape.” He switched from his comms to John. “Can you walk, Cap?”

“Well, you aren’t fucking carrying me, Ghost. That’s for bloody sure.”

“Please don’t leave me.” The tears that you finally let fall were of release. Of relief. You didn’t know if he still held the phone, or if it lay forgotten on the ground as they carried him away.

“Careful what you wish for, darling.”

#call of duty #john price #captain price #price x reader #captain john price #john price x reader #task force 141

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martinpilled · 20 hours

Note

nika x fem reader with nika falling hard for a reader who’s in like a STEM related job? like basketball is like not her thing, but she learns about it for nika?

you know how to ball, i know aristotle

– warnings : n/a

– summary : you and nika meet at a bar one day and immediately become close friends, the friends title changes the second she gets a basketball into your hands though.

a/n : FIRST NIKA FIC!!!! i loveeeee nika i am very excited rn. also idk Croatian, bare with me and google translate !

The night you met Nika was one of the best nights you've ever had. You two had met through mutual friends and ended up at the same bar and had a blast. You two got absolutely wasted together and immediately became close, sharing many stories. Even after that night you two hung out every week. You attended her games, and god she was hot. Earnestly, you had no clue what was going on. You did microbiology and had no fucking clue about basketball.

You were honest with Nika about this,

"I've never even watched a basketball game before, are you sure you want me to come?"

"Of course dijete, I want you there to support me." She grinned.

She called you something in Croatian often, dijete, she told you it meant something completely different than it did. She was actually just calling you baby. She was just as head over heels as you were.

As you went to more games, you started to pick up on certain things, you understood how the scoring worked and how plays were made, and Nika was thoroughly impressed with how quickly you picked up on everything. She also appreciated it heavily. After a game one day, she made an offhand comment about it,

"You're getting smart about this, I'll have to 1v1 you some time." She winked.

The thought of playing basketball with her made your heart race, she was so hot while doing it you weren't even sure you would be able to focus.

Weeks pasted and she had seemingly forgotten about the 1v1 comment, you assumed she would never act on it.

You were laid out in the living room of your apartment, matching mindless tv, when a buzz came through your phone.

Nik: Can I come over in a bit? I have something I wanna do.

You shot back a text almost instantly.

Y/N: Of course :)

You had no clue what that something was, maybe she just wanted to hang out. About a half an hour had passed when there was a knock on your apartment door, you opened it to see Nika standing there in a tight fit white tank top and basketball shorts. She was holding a basketball in one arm and with her other she was holding an extra pair of shoes.

Holy shit.

She was fucking gorgeous. You cleared your throat to cover up the fact that you were definitely staring in places where best friends don't stare. She smirked at you, she knew you were staring and it made her smile, which made you blush.

"I'm taking us up on the 1v1, I wanna play with you. Go get changed into something athletic and we'll go down to the park." She said, pushing past you into the apartment and sitting on the couch. You didn't question her demands, you just did them. You would only do that for Nika, no asking questions, just trusting her.

You rushed into your bedroom and checked the weather app on your phone before deciding a sports bra and shorts would work since it was hot outside. You went back out to the living room to see Nika laying back, playing something on her phone. Once she heard you come in she sat up and looked you up and down.

"Lookin' good, dijete" She winked and the blood rushed to your cheeks. You stared at her for a moment, face completely flushed before quickly snatching the shoes from her hands and going to put them on.

You two walked down to the courts in the park of your complex and talked.

"You're gonna have to go easy on me, I barely know anything."

"You're smart, you'll figure it out quickly." She smiled as you two made it to the outdoor courts. She set down a water bottle and dribbled the ball around. She directed you on where to stand for the tip off and you two started playing.

It was a bit rocky at first, she made multiple points on you til you finally made one. She gave you a solid chest bump to congratulate you.

"You did it!" She cheered, hugging you right after. You two were both sweaty and sitting in the sun hugging each other. Once she pushed away you could see her baby hairs sticking out of her ponytail and sticking to her skin with sweat, she was slightly out of breath and you watched her chest rise and fall.

You seriously had a staring problem.

She kicked the ball to the side and you were confused, she came closer to you, so close your lips were practically about to touch.

"Can I kiss you?" She murmured.

"Yes."

#nika muhl #nika mühl #nika muhl x reader #uconn wbb #lesbian #wnba #wbb #seattle storm #kal.fics

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frenchkisstheabyss · 11 hours

Text

♡Housewarming (3)♡

♡ Pairing: dom!fiance!yeosang x sub!chubby!fem!reader x best friend!seonghwa/hongjoong, best friend!wooyoung

♡ Genre: smut

♡ Summary: After punishing you twice already you'd think your jealous fiance had enough of making you pay for wearing that skimpy sundress around his friends but you awaken from a nap to find that the punishment isn't quite over yet. You've still got one or two or three things left to do.

♡ Word Count: 2.3k-ish

♡ Warnings: dom!Yeosang, possessiveness, cockwarming, somnophilia, fingering, nipple play, oral sex (f & m receiving), deep throating, multiple orgasms, edging, double penetration, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, anal sex, cum marking, cum eating, spanking, voyeurism, hair pulling, a lil pain kink, pet names (baby, baby girl, cutie, little one, my love, etc), calling Yeosang "daddy", free use, thick dick Seonghwa vs your tiny mouth, lots of bodily fluids mixing, cream pie, general overstimulation, clitoral overstimulation, filthy filthy language, a lil sprinkle of degredation if you squint but like barely, a lot of body praise, rough sex, & that should be all babes.

♡ A/N: Well, ya know, sometimes you sit down to write something romantic and instead you end up with a three part dom Yeosang gang bang. It happens to all of us...right? No, just me? Fair enough.

♡ Part One Here

Yeosang can��t get over how cute you are when you’re sleeping like this. Your head resting comfortably on his chest, legs spread out on either side of him, walls hugging his cock. It’s been like heaven to be awake this entire time, feeling you inhale and exhale, clench and release. Your pussy’s so needy for him, even in your sleep, that your sweet, warm juices are pooling around the base of his cock.

Such a good girl you are to warm your daddy’s cock while you’re napping, edging him with your tight little pussy after you’ve already made him come once today. Yeosang could stay like this forever, bottomed out inside of you, throbbing and twitching, but he knows it’s time to wake you up. The hours of the day are ticking away and there’s so much he wants to do. So much more he wants to do with you.

“Hey, baby” he whispers, gently cradling your head in his hand, “I need you to wake up for me.” Bringing an arm around your waist, he brings your bodies flush together, his fingers squeezing the tender flesh of your ass. You let out a soft whimper, shifting the tiniest bit in his embrace. Positioning his hips at an angle, he lifts you up his body, his pulsing cock slicking you in his arousal as the tip drags along your walls. “Mmmm” you hum, your pretty face scrunching up as you grasp at his shirt. The swollen head leaves your warmth with a delicious pop and hovers at your entrance.

Slowly you ease back into the waking world only to find yourself whining like a baby, your cunt still dripping, glazing his length in your arousal. “Nooo, back in, daddy” you beg, wiggling your ass so cutely Yeosang can’t help but smile. He tilts your head back to see your quivering lips and barely opened eyes, “Such a greedy little girl. You aren’t even up yet and you’re already begging to be fucked.”

“But I’m up” you whine, heavily lidded eyes fluttering open, “See? I’m up, I swear.” You pout up at him, hips wiggling, ass shaking. You know it’s there—the cock that fits so perfectly inside of you that you’d swear you were made for it—and you can’t have it. It’s torture.

Yeosang rolls you onto your back, holding you close to him as he sweeps you into a kiss. His tongue twirls around yours, lips coming together to create tiny sparks that make your bodies flush. You spread your legs for him, hooking them around his waist in desperation to fill the emptiness you’re clenching around. Yeosang glances down between you, gliding his tip to your entrance. He leaves it there, almost pressing into you, droplets of precum forming against your slit, soaking into you.

“If you want daddy inside of you again,” he says, using the tip to stretch you open, “Keep being a good girl, okay?”

“Okay, I’ll be…mmmphh” you moan, trying to ignore it when he pushes in half an inch more.

If he wants you to be good why does he have to tease you this way? It’s just cruel. Taking a few deep breaths, you gather what you can of your composure, “I’ll listen this time. Pinky swear.” You raise your pinky excitedly.

Yeosang laughs, locking his with yours, “Why are you so fucking adorable?”

“Do you want me to be less adorable?”

“Impossible. You’ll always be this adorable…” he says as he begins to trail kisses down to your neck. His voice lowers to a whisper as his lips graze your breasts, his tongue dipping between them. “Always this gorgeous…” His breath warms your skin through the thin cotton of your sundress, giving you goosebumps as his open mouth rides the contours of your figure down to your core. He licks his lips as he pushes one of your thighs open to drag his fingers through your folds. “And always so fucking wet for me.”

Locking eyes with you, he sticks his tongue out, flicking your sensitive clit with the tip of it. “Mmpphh, daddy” you moan, tits bouncing as your body jerks against your will. He does it again, faster this time, his thumb curling into your pussy. Your juices leak all around it, drenching it in seconds.

“Tell me, baby, who do you want to play with you next?” he asks, petting your walls, “You want your Joongie or Hwa? Or maybe…both?”

Your breath hitches at his proposal, your pussy hugging his thumb so tightly he can hardly move it. Yeosang grins, popping his thumb out and smearing your arousal between your folds, “Both it is then, hmm?” Rising from the bed he fixes his pants, as best he can under the circumstances, and takes you by the hand, guiding you to the foot of the bed. “On your knees for me.”

Like a little puppy doing a trick you crawl onto your knees, your ass poked in the air. You look back at him with a twinkle in your eye, knowing how proud he’ll be of you for listening. He slaps your ass, leaning down to kiss away the sting, “Good girl. Now close your eyes and stay just like this. I’ll be right back.”

You close your eyes immediately, folding your hands in front of you and resting your head on them. Humming a tune to yourself, you pretend to pay no mind to Yeosang’s footsteps as he leaves the room only to fall silent once he’s gotten far enough away. You listen intently to the muffled conversation in the next room. You can’t quite hear what they’re saying but it sounds serious at first. Not angry or hostile, just serious, though before you know it they’re laughing.

A minute or so later you hear the footsteps return only now there’s many more of them. They seem to spread across the bedroom as they enter, making it impossible to guess who’s where. “Hi, little one” a voice you know to be Wooyoung’s says as a hand reaches out to pet your cheek. With hands as soft and moisturized as his, you’re more than happy to have him pet you. “Don’t worry. I’m not here to join” he teases, “Just to watch.”

As his touch fades away, you feel someone’s weight before you on the bed. Two fingers tap at your chin, directing you up on your hands, “Now open up that pretty mouth for me.” Recognizing it as Yeosang you obey immediately. Lips parted, jaw relaxed, tongue hanging out. Your empty mouth is stuffed in an instant with a cock you’ve never tasted before. Thicker than Woo’s but not longer than Yeosang’s. You can already taste the faint saltiness of precum leaking on your tongue, the head swelling as it stiffens more and more between your fluffy cheeks.

“Aaah, mmpphh, fuck, why’s her mouth feel so good?” Seonghwa moans, cupping your face to keep you steady. The harder Seonghwa gets the clearer it becomes that he’s much thicker than Woo. There isn’t a space in your tiny mouth that isn’t filled by him. You wonder how it’s even gonna work when he starts to move but you don’t have to worry about that. At least not yet. For now he’s content with using your mouth as his favorite new cock warmer.

“Most girls can’t fit it all in like that. You did so well” Seonghwa coos, massaging your chubby cheeks to soothe your jaw. You’ll surely thank him later.

Before you can dwell on the cock pushing your gag reflex to the limit, you feel a cool liquid dripping down your ass before it’s spread wide open. Two fingers spread the liquid between your cheeks, teasing the rim of your tight asshole. A hand rests on your lower back as the fingers carefully sink into you, scissoring your insides while you quiver around them. Unable to speak, you’re stuck whimpering around Seonghwa’s length, tears pricking the corners of eyes that have to stay squeezed in order to stay shut.

“Ssh, it’s okay. I’m here. You can open your eyes now.” Letting them fall open, you see Yeosang seated on the bed beside you, watching you with so much admiration. “Joong’s just stretching you out a little bit to get you ready okay?” he explains, reaching between your legs to play with your clit.

“You should see how she’s creaming. Fuck, that’s so hot” Hongjoong says from behind you, his eyes glued to this new angle of your wet pussy. He wants it, they all do, but it belongs to Yeosang. That’s what he’d made clear when he fetched them from the other room. It’s his to fuck and lick and play with and no one else, no matter how much freedom he was giving them with your body, is allowed to have it but him. Would they even know what to do with it anyway? Could they make your legs shake like they are right now? Edge you for hours in your sleep until you’re ready to come from a few flicks of your bud? No, only Yeosang can.

“You ready, little one?” Seonghwa asks, pumping his hips into your mouth at the slowest possible pace. Hongjoong slips a third finger into your ass, spreading them apart each time you contract. You’re loosening up so easily, your gorgeous round ass just vibrating from the motion of him rocking his hand into you. You swallow finger after finger, your pussy ready to gush right below, and Hongjoong knows it’s time.

“Joongie’s gonna fuck you now” Yeosang coos, kissing you on the shoulder, “It’s gonna be a big stretch but you’re a big girl, aren’t you? Gonna make your daddy proud?”

Seonghwa’s hips thrust into you faster, the spit pooling in your mouth making it far too easy to use you. From the smoothness of the back of your throat to the ridges on the roof of your mouth, there’s nothing he can’t feel. He fucks your throat hard and deep while you just take it, whining and gagging like the brat you are.

Hongjoong coats his cock in lube from base to tip, circling the rim before snapping his hips into you. “Shit, aaah, she’s so tight” he grunts as he bottoms out in an ass better than any pussy he’s ever had. Your knees nearly give out from the force but he grabs onto your plush hips, keeping you right where he wants you. Hearing your pathetic little moans, Yeosang dips a hand into your dress, freeing one of your breasts to toy with your nipple. He wants to break you, to have you so fucked out you can’t make coherent noises anymore.

You’re so full, much fuller than you’ve ever been before, and your body doesn’t know how to take it. It only knows that it loves it. The pleasure bordering on pain. The overstimulation. The heat rushing to your core like a raging fire as you come around nothing. “Is it that good, baby girl?” Yeosang asks, knowing and thoroughly enjoying that you can’t answer.

The sight of you coming, your eyes glazing over from being such a good toy, only makes them fuck you harder. Their movements matching each other’s perfectly on each end of you. “Mmm, gonna come” Seonghwa moans, his hold on your cheeks tensing, “All over that pretty face.” Yeosang knots his fingers in the back of your hair, leaning your head back just in time for Seonghwa to pull out and decorate your face with his come. It’s enough to coat your lips, your cheeks, and the tongue that hangs out eager to lick it up.

Seonghwa sits back, giving Hongjoong all the room he needs to take you for himself. Your mouth now free to moan, you can’t even manage it. You open your mouth but nothing comes out, only fractured, ragged breaths. Dragging you back into him, nearly off the bed, Hongjoong finds himself losing his balance. The suction of your ass milking his cock so well that he’s pumping you full before he has time to pull out. “Such a perfect girl. Perfect ass. Aaah, don’t wanna stop.”

“Give her to me” Yeosang demands, taking Hongjoong’s place with no one protesting it. Yeosang lays you on your back, pushing your weakened legs to your chest as he lowers into you, finally giving you what you’ve wanted since you opened your eyes. He thumbs your clit, slamming into your sweet spot, “Did you get what you wanted? To be used like a little slut? You want more? You want them?”

“No, daddy. Only want you.” you say, your voice low and cracking.

“Then say it and I don’t want you to stop until you come.”

You repeat it like a broken record, and broken you are, “Only want you. Only want you. Only want…”

Seonghwa takes your hand as your orgasm ravages you, draining you of everything you have.

“Only w—only—ohhh.”

The juices rush from your core, trickling down between you and your fiance. Your exhausted walls can barely clench him anymore but they try so hard to. Yeosang can feel that you’re trying, you’ve tried everything, obeyed his every command all night. He doesn’t even care about coming himself, he only wanted the last thing you felt to be something all for you, as if this entire thing hasn’t been.

“Hey, sweetie, you can stop now” Yeosang coos, stilling his movements, “It’s okay.”

He lays his head on your chest, cheek nuzzling up to the dress that started all of this, arms cradling your oh so sensitive body. “Are you okay, my love? Can I get you anything?”

Hongjoong pops his head up, “You thirsty? I make good ice water.”

“That’s not a thing” Seonghwa snaps, “Anyway, are you hungry? I can cook.”

“Now that’s not a thing” Hongjoong scoffs, rolling his eyes.

Wooyoung cackles at their bickering and the four of you glance over to see him seated on the dresser, kicking his feet back and forth. “Man, you guys are perverts. I fucking love it here” he cheers, a devious smile spread across his face. “Is the official housewarming party gonna be a gang bang too orrrr?”

#ateez x reader #ateez x you #yeosang x reader #yeosang x you #ateez smut #yeosang smut #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung x you #hongjoong x you #hongjoong x reader #seonghwa x you #seonghwa x reader #wooyoung smut #hongjoong smut #seonghwa smut #poly ateez x reader #chubby reader #plus size reader

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guineverekrumbs · 3 days

Text

Later

Summary: Gojo Satoru x Reader. Seeing off your best friend before he fights the King of Curses. Promises of laters and unfinished confessions.

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Implied death (Not reader). Author has not read the manga. Not proofread.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today was the day, you thought. You stare at your shoes, anxiety ripping though you. The cold winter air making you shiver as you waited.

December 24th

Usually, this time of the year, youd be finalising presents or getting dolled up for the annual holiday party. Probably preparing the cake you always say is such a hassle to bake but you actually look forward to making it every year.

But no. This year -with ominous dark clouds covering the sky- you were waiting for the biggest fight of all Jujutsu history to occur.

Standing beside Shoko in Jujustsu High. You watched as every person that ever meant something to you -those who are left anyway- say their "Send that bastard to hell, Sensei!" and "Make him regret ever coming back!" wishes.

"He's gonna come back, y'know." Shokos warm and comforting voice met your ears. Though she sounded like she was trying to convince herself aswell.

And as someone who wanted to believe her, you gently grasped her hand beside you. "I know."

Eventually, cerulean blue eyes found yours in the midst of the crowd. A confident smile curved on his lips as he slowly made his way to you and Shoko.

Satoru Gojo. Then small flashbacks of your time together in high school passed through your mind.

Yaga screaming his and Geto's ears off as you and Shoko watch tittering on the sidelines.

Gojo stealing a bite from your bento, declaring that youre food was better than his, earning a slap to his hand from you.

Geto and Gojo rolling around the floor wrestling each other over a stupid towel.

Gojo's calm and relax face as he slept on the school rooftop beside you, with his hands behind his head and the wind lulling both of you to sleep.

You have lost so much people. And you already lost one best friend. Without a doubt, you're not ready to lose another. Not Gojo. Not when you haven't even had the chance to tell him yet. He was called the strongest for a reason, right?

Right?

"No tears, sweetheart." His voice soft and gentle, as he leaned down to properly face you. You blinked, not even realizing that tears were threatening to fall down your face.

Slender fingers wiped a stray tear away. You shyed away from his touch, embarrassed that he caught you in such a state of distress. You didn't want him to think that you didn't have faith in him.

Shoko let go of your hand and stepped away from the two of you. Obviously noticing the intimate moment you were sharing even if you didnt.

You sniffled, "Just kick his ass, okay?!"

Face growing red at your stupid comment, wishing you said something more original.

But Gojo didn't seem to mind. In fact he grinned wider. "Yes, Maam!"

He posed in a fake salute, earning a small laugh from you. You missed the twinkle in his eyes from finally making you smile after what seemed like hours of you looking like you're barely holding it together.

Well, he wasn't wrong. The rope around your lungs finally loosened as you let out a breath you didnt even know you were holding.

Suprising both Gojo and yourself. You pulled him down into a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck tightly. His hands immediately found your waist as he sank into you. His head nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

His warm breath and tight grip on your waist said everything he couldn't say with words. Confident as he was, he was scared too. Not of Sukuna or any curse. But he was scared that if he didn't play his cards right, he wouldnt be able to come back to this. To you. And that terrifed him more than anything.

Studenot and allies alike, stood by and watch the scene unfold before them. Some with knowing gazes and others with baffled ones. Whispers could be heard from around you, but they all fade into the background.

"Wait f'me, okay?" His muffled words made you grip him even tighter as you nodded helplessly.

"Hurry back, Satoru."

He pulled away in surprise. You never called him that before. Its always Gojo or the affectionate idiot, but never his first name.

Pressing his forehead to yours, he whispered, "How am I suppose to leave now?"

Saving the world be damn. All he wanted to was to teleport you away and finally say the thing he's been holding back all these years.

You smiled softly at him. Gojo has left many times before. For overseas missions or something else, but this time it feels like he was going to some place farther. A place where you couldn't follow. And its that thought that finally gives you the courage to say whats been on your mind since yesterday.

"I want to tell you something later," You began, eyes darting to the side. "Ive been wanting to tell you this for a long time now.. so that's why I need you to hurry back, Toru."

Gojo groaned inwardly, burying his face into your neck once more. "Say that again."

"Say what again?"

"My name."

You chuckled softly, "Toru."

He pulled you impossibly closer to him, as you ran your fingers through his hair. It was just his name, but damn did it make him feel like he was on cloud nine when it came from your lips.

Why here and why now? He thought. Is the possibility of his death really making the both of you finally adress the feelings you've been tip toeing around each other over the years?

The impending goodbye grew closer and closer. Gojo knows he should let you go and pull away but his arms wouldn't agree with his brain. He pulls away just enough to look at you. His eyes traced your face trying to ingrave your face into his brain.

After what seemed like hours. You both finally pulled away, fingers tracing each other, aching to keep some sort of contact before they dropped to your sides.

"Later?" You asked, voice full of hope.

His signature grin curved his lips, "Later."

And that was the last thing he said before he turned around to leave. Your eyes never leaving his broad back as he looked back and gave you a cocky wink.

December 24th

The last time you saw Gojo Satoru. Your Satoru. Alive.

#gojo satoru #jjk gojo #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #angst #fluff

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vveebee · 9 hours

Text

TEASER ! Bittersweet - Park Sunghoon | p.sh

based off of teeth by enhypen

pairing: best friend's ex boyfriend!sunghoon x afab!reader word count: currently 0.6k

all works | playlist

synopsis: after the brutal breakup of your best friend, wonyoung, and the infamous park sunghoon, you couldn't help but have the urge to rip his hair out. you were aware of his status. a wealthy playboy. but that doesn't alter your perspective of him one bit. when you accidentally entangle yourself into getting paid to fulfil his needs, sunghoon began to grow accustomed to you. what happens when your best friend finds out?

genre: enemies with benefits, enemies to lovers, jake second lead TT, secret relationship, betrayal, kind of slowburn(?), angst, smut

warnings: MINORS DNI, drinking, smoking, making out, skin biting/sucking, dacryphilia, hair pulling, dirty talk, degrading, unprotected sex (always use protectionnn), fingering, reader kind of gets forced into doing it, more as i go

a/n: this is my first fic that i've ever posted so i really hope you enjoy this TT

release date? tba.

parts completed? 0/?

taglist is currently OPEN !

~ if you would like to be tagged once this is released, please either reply or send an ask, though i would prefer asks <3

teaser below ! ^^ Disclaimer: It is NOT proofread.

now playing: teeth by enhypen

BUZZ.. BUZZ… God, that was probably the nth time someone tried calling you. You didn’t bother checking the caller ID, but considering the amount of times they’ve called you, it was probably some prank or scam call. Since eleven o’clock in the morning, you’ve been trying to finish off the final details of your biology project, and you have been for almost twelve hours. Obviously, you took small breaks throughout the day, whether it was coffee or some takeaway, but you didn’t have any classes today so you thought it was best to maximise your working time. You always ask yourself why exactly you ended up choosing biology for your college course.

BUZZ—You finally picked up the phone, completely fed up with its vibrating. “Hello?” You spoke, your voice implying that you were annoyed and that the caller should probably hang up. You tucked your phone in between the side of your face and shoulder so that you could still hear whilst writing.

From the other side of the line, you could hear someone sniffing, it was subtle but you were still able to make it out. In confusion, your hand stops gliding your pen across the paper, dropping it and fumbling for your phone to see who the caller ID was. Your hand grasped the device close to your face, the light rebounding off of it. Your eyes scanned the name displayed on the screen, checking who exactly was calling you.

It was Wonyoung. Your best friend.

Without wasting any more time, you brought the phone up to your ear again.. “Wonyoung? Wait— Why are you crying? Did something happen?” You asked, obviously confused as to why she was crying at this time of day. All that was audible was the sobbing and sniffing of your best friend, and all you could do was listen. “Hey, hey… Why don’t we take some deep breaths, yeah?” Knowing that she probably wasn’t able to respond, you continued to help stabilise her breathing. “Deep breath in— and breathe out,” You instructed, again and again. After Wonyoung was able to normalise her breathing, you decided that now was the best time to ask about the cause of her constant crying. “So.? What happened, Won?” You started off gently, not wanting to frighten her back into tears. “Y/n…” She spoke, “It’s Sunghoon—” Unconsciously, you cut her off again, it was a habit you needed to get rid of. “Sunghoon? You mean that rich jerk you’re dating? Did you guys fight again? Won- If you guys keep fighting then it means you need to break up!” You exclaimed, voice beaming over the phone.

There was a slight moment of silence before Wonyoung began speaking again. “That’s the thing, Y/n. We aren’t..” The words leaving her mouth have you sitting upright in your chair.

“You aren’t? Oh Won, I’m so proud of you for finally leaving him,” You said, honestly proud of your best friend for leaving a toxic relationship behind. But then you quickly remember that she was the one that was crying. “You… were the one that left him, right? Won?” Again, there was that moment of silence, but longer, so you took the hint that you were wrong. “Look, Won, he didn’t deserve you anyways, and you deserved so much better than him.” You protested in the voice you always used when you tried to lighten the mood. Luckily enough, it earned a small chuckle from the girl across the line. “I say, how about I go to the convenience store to pick up some ramyeon, and I’ll head over to yours to eat it with you. How does that sound?” The words left your mouth so fluidly as if you’ve uttered the phrase a countless amount of times. A series of subtle laughs flooded your ears, “Of course, Y/n. I’d love that.” Wonyoung agreed, you could just hear the smile on her face, happy that she was happy now. Forget about your stupid biology project, it could wait. All you needed to focus on was comforting your best friend and hating on her shameless ex.

And that’s how you started hating Park Sunghoon.

#vveebee #vveebee works #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen smut #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon smut #sunghoon smut #sunghoon #park sunghoon #park sunghoon x reader #enhypen x reader #sunghoon fanfiction

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oursecretways · 22 hours

Text

Is this what you call self-care?

Felix × Reader notes: I am at the point where I feel like playing 72 hours of Stardew Valley is perfectly reasonable, so I hope u enjoy my first fanfic. Also, idk about you, but I feel like he would def enjoy some Zelda 😌… also, this isn't the longest fic out there, but it is a short story after all. Enjoy!☻ word count: 1,795 warning(s): light cursing Just a chill day with Felix, while you’re trying to make progress with your uni work

It was a regular Saturday for you, waking up at 6 AM and feeling your boyfriend's arm around you. After you turn your alarm off, you turn to look at him, smiling. His long, blond hair fell into his angelic face. It is so hard to not say fuck it and stay in bed with Felix, but you—with the smallest of movements to not wake him—get out of bed, making your way to the bathroom to get ready. After you get yourself into some comfy stay-at-home-and-study clothes, you brew yourself a cup of coffee with some coconut milk.

You've been researching for your midterm paper for a while now. It wasn't the worst topic, but selecting what's important and what isn't is where you were hopeless.

After restarting it for the hundredth time, you heard movements from your bedroom. You peeked out of the study/gaming room to see Felix's tired face, which filled your heart with warmth. "Good morning, love. How did you sleep?" He looked back at you while he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. "I slept well until some gremlin left from next to me way too early this morning." A smile crept up his face, reaching out for your hand so he could pull you in for a hug. He kept you close with one hand, resting his face on your head while you hid in the crook of his neck. His sweet scent filling your nose. "How's your university work going?" you scrunch your face, not even wanting to think about the research and writing your essay. "Well, I read a lot, but I do not know where to begin or what things are the necessities to put into my paper." You felt yourself wanting to throw a tantrum like the 5-year-old who you are at heart. He kissed your forehead, then put his pinky out. "Okay, I have a trade offer; once you're halfway done, we can play on our farm together." Your eyes lit up. You've been pretty hooked on Stardew Valley for a while now, especially since the new update, and you got Felix to play with you on his days off. Sadly, they've been pretty busy with their comeback, so you couldn't hang out as much. He usually got home by the time you were asleep, and you went to class or to the library to learn before he woke up, since it was soon time for your final exams. You only have one year back from your university, and you don't want setbacks, so it is important to get a good grade. Your parents would be pleased as well since you flew to another city to learn specifically there, so you want to make them proud. You link your pinkies together to form an unbreakable promise. "Okay, but no distractions! If you want to play, please play in the living room; we both know I won't ever finish my assignment with you distracting me." He chuckles and nods his head in agreement. You happily made yourself another cup of coffee, then went back to the study to work on your task. You still cannot believe it that you somehow snagged such a perfect man: he is supportive, understands your concerns, and can always accept your compromises. He openly talks to you about how he feels and bravely tells you if something bothers or concerns him. You honestly can't believe these past couple years have been real.

You've made a bit of progress; it helped that you talked with your old dorm roommates—you moved in with Felix about half a year now; you two realized that it would be the easiest since you went over any given chance anyways. They gave some good suggestions. Once you caught up with each other, you four said your goodbyes, since all of you have a lot of work to get done by the end of this month. After some time, you smelled a sweet scent coming from the kitchen. The door opened before you could sneak out to have a peek. Felix brought in your favorite cookies; it was a mixture of his classic chocolate chip and your oatmeal cookies recipe. You two perfected it while he got some time off, and you didn't have school just yet. His brown eyes looked at you proudly behind the plate of cookies with milk in his other hand. "How's your progress, baby?" He bent down to give you a peck on the lips. You waited until he put the plate and the cup down, then patted the ground next to you, signaling for him to sit down. He didn't waste any seconds, and plopped right next to you, happy that he could sit beside his girlfriend. Felix didn't want to make you feel pressured; he just wants to spend as much time as possible with you before he has to go back to endless dance practice, content creation, etcetera. You both know he loves doing what he does, but it can get overwhelming sometimes. They got cussed out a lot for the smallest of things, getting bullied and going as far as getting death treats. He was grateful for being able to work his dream job, and he is also happy that you understand what this kind of life comes with.

Felix watched you type your thoughts out in your document and started to play with your hair, which made you relax instantly. You couldn't help but melt into his touch. You leaned onto his shoulder, feeling exhausted. "I am almost done with half of my assignment; I just need another page, but I feel like my brain cells are giving up on me." He chuckled, placing a kiss on your head. "You got this; I believe in you." He started giving kisses all around your face, which soothed your tired thoughts. Felix eventually kissed your lips; the kiss was sweet and made you feel like you're under the sun at the beginning of the spring. You reciprocated immediately, feeling as though time had stopped—no tasks, no school, no pressure—just you and him tangled together in a complete state of Nirvana. Before it could get heated, Lixie pulled away, holding you firmly, so he kept up his strenght to not distract you further. "Is it okay if I play Zelda while I lay in your lap?" You saw a hint of pink on his face, making you smile. "Well, I am close to finishing it, so why not? I don't think it can cause any harm." Felix got up excitedly to get his switch with his headphones. He laid down and got comfortable, then started playing his game. He has been quite into it lately. The game was beautiful, and there were a lot of things to do. The excitement in him got you into playing it, asking for his help in some harder situations.

When you got done with half of your paper, you looked down and saw a sleeping Felix with a gaming console on the ground next to him. He looked so peaceful like this: his pink lips parted, his eyelashes casting shadows on his face, and his freckles painting constellations onto his features. You can't help but start connecting the dots on his face with your fingers, making his eyes flutter as he awakens. "What are you doing, gorgeous?" You lean down to kiss him as a response. You feel like you're going to explode with all the feelings inside your chest. "I am done with half of my paper; I didn't want to wake you, sorry." You pout just a little, earning a smile as he reaches for your face to caress it. "That's my good girl. Are you ready for some farming time?" You nod, knowing that you're going to end up either playing until the sun gets up again or none at all and will end up cuddling in bed.

You two made some lunch and plopped down besides each other. Your desks have been set against one another, his PC taking up one desk while yours is cluttered by notes and books for your university courses; you just keep pushing it back each time you take your laptop out instead of organizing it. Felix tried to reason with you or help with that mess, but that's how you were, looking unorganized yet knowing exactly what is where, always on point. That's what your grades always reflect: perfect or almost perfect scores, even though you procrastinate until the last minute. He smiled to himself, knowing how he and the boys wished they had this superpower.

You put on your two's favorite chill playlist and booted up the game. We made a lot of progress, stopping to occasionally show physical affection for each other or taking a quick bathroom or snack break. I didn't even notice how the time flied until you looked down on your watch, seeing that it had passed five a.m. "Yongbok, we have a problem. Have you checked the time?" He has been so into the game that he almost looked up into the corner to see the in-game time, realizing that this might become a problem in the future. "Oh shit, I didn't notice when it got this late. I mean, I am going to be okay; I won't work for a couple of days now, but when do you need to send this assignment in?" he asked, knowing damn well that you have a habit of sending in your tasks with one minute left on the clock, giving him a scare. One time, Chan got to see your study progress and felt his soul leave his body. He still remembers how he and Han watched how their leader scolded you about your academics and your attitude towards your learning, painting a picture of an overworked father lecturing his rebellious daughter, who—no matter what she's doing—will always be his treasure. It never got said out loud, but you became the younger sister of the group, with all the older members looking out for your happiness and safety. And Felix isn't sure that if you two ever break up—which, let's face it, is highly unlikely—he wouldn't get the shorter stick and wouldn't get scolded.

Once you two saved and logged off for the day, got ready for bed, you snuggled close to each other leaving sweet kisses on one another, fighting the strong urge to sleep. When he heard your breathing change, he knew that you were fast asleep, what he waited for all along. It makes him happy and calm, knowing you are asleep. He pressed a light kiss on your forehead.

"Good night, my love," and with that, he dozed off to sleep as well.

🏷️: open lmk if you want to be added

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toasttt11 · 3 days

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hair

May 23, 2025

Kensington has been back home in Michigan for almost two weeks now and Will had just come a few days ago and Ryan and Gabe were joining in a few days.

Kensington could feel her self slowly healing not only physically but mentally, she spent a lot of her days doing physical therapy and going to therapy as well.

She didn’t realize how much of a break she needed from hockey and she had a feeling she’s going to love the sport even more when she gets back on the ice but for now she’s okay being off the ice for a few months.

Kensington was still holding onto quite a bit of guilt over everything that happen the last season and she just can not seem to be able to let some things go, her therapist suggest a change to have a fresh start.

Kensington used her crutches coming out of her appointment to the car where her mom was waiting for her.

Kensington slowly sat down in the passenger seat, “Hi Mama.” She kissed her mom’s cheek.

“Hi sweetheart how did everything go?” Elena smiled softly loving how her daughter seems to becoming more and more herself.

“Good.” Kensington nodded and looked at her mother, “Do you have anything to do now?”

“No i’m free why?” Ellen asked as she started the car and pulled out of the parking spot.

“I uh was wondering if you could take me to the hair salon?” Kensington softly asked.

“You want to cut your hair?” Ellen questioned surprised as her daughter as always loved her long hair.

“I want a fresh start.” Kensington smiled at her mother.

“Ok.” Ellen smiled back quickly agreeing and driving to the salon they go to instead of going straight home.

Ellen parked the car in front of the salon and got out of the car, Kensington followed behind her mother using her crutches.

Ellen got Kensington all signed in with a stylist and let one of the employees guide Kensington to one of the salon chairs so she could sit down.

“Hi, I’m Tori.” A younger woman with bright red hair came over shaking Kensington’s hand.

“Kensington.” Kensington introduced herself smiling.

“So what are we doing with your hair today.” Tori asked as she touched Kensington’s hair.

“Chop it all off.” Kensington bluntly said with an excited smile.

“All of it.” Tori asked and Kensington gestured to right by her ears, “Okay let’s wash your hair and then we can get started.”

Kensington nodded and crunched her way over to the sink bowls and sat down leaning her head back and closed her eyes relaxing as she got her hair washed.

Kensington got back up after she got her hair washed and went back to the other chair and sat back down.

She closed her eyes and listened to the sound of her hair being cut off and she could literally feel the weight coming off as her hair continued to be cut.

“Okay all done.” Tori told her with a smile.

Kensington opened her eyes and a smile spread across her face as she saw her hair and she lifted her hand up feeling how light her hair feels now.

Her therapist was right. It felt like she got rid of so much bad memories and feelings.

Kensington thanked the hair stylist and crutched her way out to the waiting room where her mom is waiting.

Ellen looked up at the sound of crutches and gasped seeing her hair, “Oh my it looks so beautiful.” Ellen smiled as she stood up and gently touched her daughter’s hair.

Kensington giddy smiled at her mom and Ellen softened seeing her daughter become a little more herself again.

They got back into the car and headed back to home.

Ellen walked into the house first with Kensington behind her.

“Was everything okay?” Jim asked in concern when Ellen walked in and Kensington stayed outside the living room and they were back over a hour later than usual form therapy so it concerned the boys.

“Evening is fine.” Ellen reassured, “Kens has a surpise.” Ellen got the attention of the rest of the boys in the living room who were playing a video game together.

Kensington crutched into the living room seeing her dad, brothers and boyfriend all there and she grinned a little.

Will choked slightly as his eyes widen, he has always absolutely loved her long hair but he might change her short hair to his favorite.

Jack smiled getting up and walking over and gently touching her hair, “It looks very good K.”

“Thanks Jacky.” Kensington beamed.

“It suits you well.” Quinn softly complimented he thought the short hair looked very good on her.

“Not bad.” Luke smirked teasingly and Jack who was walking back to the couch smacked the back of Luke’s head making Kensington snicker.

Jim gave her an approving nod.

Jack teasingly nudged Will seeing him staring at Kensington with star eyes and his jaw half open.

Will shook his head snapping out of his day dream and got up and walked over to Kensington and saw her slighty nervous face for his reaction.

“I have a new favorite hair style of yours.” Will softly mused as he curled one of her short strands around his finger malign her beam happily at him with rosy cheeks.

Will leaned down pressing a soft and slow kiss to her cheek and softly mumbling to only her, “You look absolutely beautiful my gray.”

Kensington’s cheeks flashed darker and she hid her face against his shoulder feeling him chuckling.

Will chuckled fondly but brought Kensington over to the couch and helping her sit down slowly and setting her crutches onto the floor and and slipping her sandals off for her before plopping down onto the spot next to her.

Will wrapped an arm around her shoulder making her cuddle closer to him and rest her head on his chest.

“I love you.” Kensington softly mumbled to her boyfriend and best friend.

“I love you too.” Will smiled softly mumbling back kissing the top of her head as he gently rubbed her back.

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mikassaviola · 2 days

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Psychotic| JJK

Pairing: Jungkook X Reader

Description: Yoona just going on about her life, encounters Jeon Jungkook, who falls in love with her. Something he didn't know he had. Romantic love?

Yoona wasn't what she seemed though, not your simple innocent girl, just someone who loved Jeon Jungkook too much, which wasn't supposed to be in the equation but now that it was, she would do anything and everything for him.

You were both psychotic after all.

Chapter Warning: Yoona on gunpoint -for a while-, Kidnapping, Gorgeous Jk, Tell me what I missed.

-------------------------------------------------

Chapter 2

'Jeon Jungkook, spotted again in low life slums of Seoul', the female on television announced.

You sighed quickly turning off the tv.

Boring.

You ate cookies and ramen and pancakes and pizza and Yoongi still wasn't home.

You were bored. Nothing good on TV, nothing good on your phone and you already played on the play station for like 47 hours.

You needed to go out which Yoongi told you not to because he was dealing with some drug issues and didn't want to deal with your safety along with it.

Not like you couldn't handle it you really could. Alone.

But you didn't want to concern the only man you loved so much, your brother. Min Yoongi.

So you lazily picked up your phone and dialled him.

Ring....... Ring....... Ring.......

The person you are-

So you decided to call Jimin who picked up in one go.

'Bored?' Jimin asked and you grinned.

"Definitely", You replied cheekily, sighing that at least you have another person to talk to. You put your phone on speaker.

Not like you didn't had Na Jung, but it was always hard for you to talk to her, she was great really.

The problem was on your part you couldn't tell her anything major. About the business and your mostly isolated life.

So you just couldn't face her. It was complicated.

'Jeon Jungkook is around this area, he's meddling with us. Wants to take over I guess. Stay locked. Don't step out, turn off the lights, pretend you aren't home. He isn't here for violence...... For now but you need to stay out of sight.'

With that the call was cut and you looked ahead at Jeon Jungkook who easily slipped in your house when Jimin was speaking.

He was standing there casually, smirk on his face, easy going outfit. His tattoos more visible to the sober you.

He really had his hand thickly decorated. You sighed.

"Want water?", You asked casually smiling slightly. He was wearing black t-shirt and black jeans.

He didn't look like he had a gun. His hair dark and messy.

But he probably had it somewhere. He won't run around carelessly, he's not a casual person. If he's dangerous to everyone else, he's dangerous to himself too. People are after him. He must have a gun.

And now that you were sober he looked much more handsome, even more dominating. He had no expression after his smirk vanished, his hands in his pocket as he walked over to you and simply roamed his eyes up and down your body.

You shivered slightly.

It wasn't hard to remember him, he is on news now and then, so you remembered a week after your hungover when he robbed millions out of a bank and made the news.

You thought Jungkook was nice in a sense, he could've used you, kidnapped you. Raped you.

Did things that could've left you scarred for life. Well, re scarred.

Could've done all sorts of stuff but he didn't, instead he escorted you out and put a jacket on your body to protect you from cold.

You were scared of him. He was in your house but you doubted that he wanted to harm you.

"You just got a warning about me, who knows you might poison me", Jungkook replied still looking at you while you looked down at your feet.

He was so tall, it made you feel submissive.

A million thoughts racing in your head. You could hit him right now or just let it flow smoothly until Yoongi comes.

Jungkook thought you'd panic, throw things at him probably try to run and start crying.

Were you just too stupid? Too innocent? Too nice? Or you simply don't know that he was Jeon Jungkook.

But who was he kidding, his name was a known household name in at least four Asian countries.

He couldn't figure out your thoughts nor he cared. He wasn't here for you.

He thinks you look pretty, full sleeves grey t-shirt and shorts. Your thighs on full display and they were really smooth.

Hot, perfectly thick at places they should be.

Soft. Jungkook wanted to ruin them but he shook his head, he wasn't here for this.

"Why are you here?", You asked, your eyes on his Nike's but you turned around to walk towards the kitchen, filling the glass with water and giving it to him.

He smirked sitting down on the counter and taking the glass from your hand, brushing his fingers slightly on yours.

He had warm hands, yours were cold. You gulped.

He was dangerous, anything nice you thought about him flew out of your head and the reality became more clear, just something about your thoughts for him shifted with that slight contact.

He was like hell. Burning. You could sense the bloodlust.

It was like he's calm because he took a pill of calmness, otherwise your house would be burn to ashes by now.

You don't know how you could tell, but you could. Like he was the predator toying with his prey.

"For you love", Jungkook said smoothly his eyes never leaving yours, yours that refused to look at him and he raised his hand putting random strands of your hair behind your ear, his warm hand trailing down as you flinched.

Your eyes closed when he held your chin and pushed it up.

Jungkook likes being like this, likes the tremor of your lips, your eyes shut tightly.

Shame, he really wanted to see them.

"I'm scared of you", You mumbled and looked at his eyes finally.

He had dark eyes, pure black. A black hole. No emotions, just two beads staring back at you, although the more you stared the more brown you started to see.

The more human he looked but at first it was as if you're looking at a monster.

Jungkook just stared at your messy hair falling out of place and your lips. The same glossy lips that allured him in that night.

Your greyish eyes, really rare. The more he focused he realised that the depth never stops. The depth to your eyes, innocent, pure, gleaming but it was like a facade, something you feigned.

Like there was more, more history, more horror, more evil than what looks at first glance. Or he was just over analysing.

But then again your eyes were the ones worth over analysing for.

"Don't be, let's wait for your brother hm? Need to discuss business with him", Jungkook said gulping down the water in one breath after retreating his hand and you furrowed your eyebrows.

"Are you going to hurt him?", You asked. Jungkook thought you sounded pathetic. Weak. Your voice low, full of concern. You really loved your brother.

But it was a weakness, love.

Definitely it's a weakness and he hated weak people.

"Don't worry about it love", He said the nick name falling out of his lips smoothly. He was a smooth talker.

Really smooth, you thought. He talks like a normal person, calm, collected.

He's a monster. You've seen the news, people killed, banks robbed, drugs sold.

He's a killer. A bad guy. A monster.

And you love your brother, so you couldn't let Jungkook hurt him.

"The tracking device on the jacket, was a smart move", You said placing your head on the counter in front of him, your hair all over it now, you swung your legs back and forth. "Did you do it because you knew I was with Yoongi or was it just because?", You asked.

Jungkook chuckled. "You know", He acknowledged, clearly amused and then you felt it.

The metal on your head. He pointed a gun at you. You closed your eyes.

You were scared but what's the point? If you freak out you'll get killed, if you don't you'll get killed.

Again what's the point?

"You talk too much love, it's annoying. So shut up if you wanna survive", Jungkook said and you imagined his face with all those earrings and lip piercing, looking at you with his poker face.

"It's hard to get a gun in Korea, you really are a big deal, aren't you?", You still continued. You don't know why but all the time you had spent bored crept up to you.

"You think I'm kidding? You need to be really innocent to still say shit, do you think I won't shoot?", Jungkook asked amusement laced in his voice pressing the gun further into your forehead making you wince.

It was hurting you. Your heart was pounding in your chest. Your breathing was getting erratic. Jungkook was calm right now and you didn't wanted to imagine what happens when he's not.

He already has a gun pressed to your forehead.

"Get the gun away from her forehead", You heard another voice, the voice that made you lift your head immediately, it was Yoongi.

And there were tears in your eyes. His gun pointed at Jungkook as Yoongi glanced at you.

"Was waiting for you, I've nothing to do with her, chill", Jungkook said pointing the gun away from you making you let in a shaky breath and Yoongi did the same.

Both putting their guns back wherever they hide them but together, still very much cautious to retrieve it back if the other did.

"You okay?", Yoongi asked you and you nodded wiping your eyes hastily.

"Tsk", Jungkook mumbled casually spinning around on his spot. "Nice house", He commented, you refused to look at him.

Your eyes remained on Yoongi who was walking over to you and sat beside you.

You were clutching your hands so tight on the table. Now that Jungkook and Yoongi were face to face, you were kind of scared.

For Yoongi.

Jungkook's eyes trailed down to Yoongi's hand on yours, opening your fists. They were bleeding. You dug your nails so deep it started bleeding.

"Poor thing, must've been really scared", Jungkook mused sarcastically as Yoongi continued to trace his fingers softly on your palm.

Hankey out of his pocket in a second as he wiped the blood carefully.

"Why are you here?", Yoongi asked letting go of you and looking at Jungkook.

Jungkook shrugged his shoulders.

"Being nice here, could've kidnapped her blackmailed you done all sorts of things"-

"Stop fucking going around things, why are you here", Yoongi cut him off in a calm voice.

"You should be thankful I'm in no mood for violence, next time be careful with your mouth, think twice before talking over me", Jungkook said looking straight at Yoongi.

Yoongi was on guard. He was careful. It was Jeon Jungkook you were talking about.

Yoongi knew he was no match for Jungkook, he was slightly scared and tried his best to not show it to Jungkook.

But Jungkook was Jungkook, he knew you both were scared.

Yoongi couldn't say about you, but he was scared.

You were just there, biting on your lower lip, wiping your eyes now and then. Rocking back and forth slightly, not daring to look up.

Yeah, scared.

"So I was just asking for you to hand over your business to me, we pay a hefty sum then you don't meddle with it", Jungkook said letting it out.

You know Yoongi would deny, he has his own goal, his own reason for doing things, if it was for money then he is already rich but it wasn't.

"How about a no?", Yoongi said and you started to rock back and forth a little faster. You were tense.

"How about I tell you I've 10 men fully armed surrounding your house, why don't you be nice hm?", Jungkook smirked.

Yoongi bit his lower lip, he had no idea what to do. When he came in he saw no one.

"He's bluffing", You mumbled looking straight at Jungkook and then at Yoongi.

Your eyes, they held something. Something Jungkook couldn't point out. He was really entertained, sure now that he knows you aren't really dumb.

"Am I?", Jungkook asserted.

"You are, there's no one with you, you came alone", You said still looking at Yoongi who had his eyes on Jungkook.

"Very well, I can take you both down alone", He said and Yoongi looked at you briefly.

"Go to your room", He said. You wanted to stay but the look on Yoongi's face made you leave.

So now you were in your room, anxious. Your heart beating rapidly. Your stomach tingling.

Fuck you were about to have a panic attack. You could feel it coming, you quickly took a joint placing it between your mouth and smoking.

You exhaled shakily making the smoke flow out of your mouth.

You didn't smoke, it was really rare, once in two months that too when shit goes down.

It is going down.

You have fucking Jeon Jungkook in your house, acting all nice and shit when he could have destroyed the house and then asked for whatever he wanted to.

Something tells you it's not for the drug business.

But that's all Yoongi had, if not that then what?

You took his coat taking out the tracking device from under the collar and destroyed it.

Something you should've done the day after you were drunk and found out.

He wasn't here for Yoongi's business exclusively either, you didn't know why he was here.

You couldn't figure it out. Couldn't figure him out.

You just know you'd hate to live a life full of danger, you looked at time and cursed. Fuck being high, it has been an hour already?

You rushed out, why was it so quiet?

There Yoongi was sitting on the table quietly and Jungkook who was up and was about to leave when he looked at you.

He walked towards you and you backed up yourself into a wall.

Your eyes now slightly red due to weed.

"Next time I won't be so nice, you know what Yoongi, I'm taking her for safekeeping", Jungkook said taking your wrist in his hand and you gasped.

His hands now feeling cold on your skin, you were still in your shorts.

"That wasn't what you said", Yoongi said through gritted teeth, getting up quickly as you looked at him.

"Yoongi, I'd be fine", You said softly. Too soft. Yoongi was defeated, Jungkook had you.

Jungkook was smirking. Jungkook was winning and Yoongi was losing.

Whatever conversation they had Jungkook won and now Jungkook is taking you away.

You weren't the only person in Yoongi's life, just someone who walked along him.

He had Jimin, his girlfriend, his friends. He'd be fine.

"You'd be, if I get a satisfactory reply the next time we meet", Jungkook said looking at Yoongi.

Yoongi knew he couldn't do anything right now and so did you.

Struggling would be a waste of energy so you didn't.

A moment of understanding passed between you and Yoongi.

'Don't worry you taught me good, I'll take care of myself'.

'Don't worry I'll get you out before you know it'.

You had no idea what Jeon Jungkook had in store for you. Why he took such an impulsive decision? Why did he wanted to do something with Yoongi?

"Until then don't touch her", Yoongi said, Jungkook already walking out, you stumbling behind him but you were quick to at least pick up your phone that you left on the counter.

"No promises", Jungkook said now already outside, you in the passenger seat of his car.

Fancy car.

If you weren't so busy looking behind to get a glimpse of your brother you'd have seen what car it was.

You sighed turning off your phone, still in your shorts and slippers.

Jungkook settled himself comfortably, driving ahead. His hand finding itself on your thighs.

You yanked it away, he separated you from your brother in an instant.

Took all that protection away in a second. All that comfort and familiarity.

He put your brother in a strained position.

He made you feel helpless, he made Yoongi feel helpless.

"Stop acting like a little virgin", Jungkook said, his hand finding itself back on your thigh, more firm, his fingers digging in your flesh.

You refused to look at it, to look at him.

"I don't have to act like one", You mumbled.

Did you just admit that you're a virgin? Jungkook scoffed.

Unpredictable.

"Want me to change that, yeah?", Jungkook offered and you looked at him disgusted. His hand on the wheel as you put your palm over his on your thigh and tried to get it off you.

"You are filthy", You said trying your hardest to get his hand off.

But it looked like an useless endeavour.

He chuckled. He had a good laugh. Pretty voice. Shame he was a fucked up psycho.

You stabbed his hand with your nails, scratching on it, he did lift his hand up but to change the gear and when he kept it back, he spanked your thigh making you wince.

It was in no way playful or anything like what you see in the movies, it was harsh and it stung.

Your thigh getting red on that particular area, your eyes getting watery.

"I hate people who cry", Jungkook said rubbing over the area he just slammed his hand on, making a chill run down your spine, a tear escaping your eyes and your bottom lip now almost bleeding due to your biting.

You were with Jeon Jungkook, going god knows where, but you knew if you wanted it to go painlessly you need to stay calm.

But fuck calm.

You were at it again, getting his hand off your thigh but then something flipped.

He got mad. Not really but yeah angrier than before.

"The fuck, you just have to stay calm and take it. You want me to focus on driving huh?", He suddenly said and you looked at him, his pupils dilated as you gulped but refused to reply.

The thing you didn't miss to notice was the increasing speed of the car.

Going up and up.

He was trying to scare you.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck. You didn't know what to do now.

130.

140.

"Jungkook slow down", You said, your hand on his thigh, going up and down. He had thick thighs, nice muscles, hard and nice. "Please", You murmured as Jungkook looked at you with a smirk.

"Won't work now love", He mused and yanked your hand away making you groan.

Your chin trembled. He can't have all the control.

Fuck it.

You opened the window putting half of your body outside, your hair flowed along with the wind.

If he wants fucking control, he can have it but you'd enjoy.

You won't let it end in burning flames, it's supposed to be paradise.

You let the wind rush through your upper body as you screamed 'wooohooo'.

Jungkook was stunned, you were crazy he thought. He smirked nonetheless, increasing the speed wondering how long you could go on.

Shocked when you didn't come in, now just sitting up on his window and enjoying.

It was calm for you, it wasn't too hot or too cold. A few vehicles passing by as you smiled. At least there's no Jungkook up here to ruin your view.

It ticked him off, how can you enjoy?

You should be scared of him.

He slowed down to a decent speed and after a while you decided to be in the car.

"Boring", You mumbled at the speed, putting on your seatbelt and Jungkook scoffed.

"You're fucking crazy, guess I've to fuck it out of you", Jungkook said and you bit your lower lip.

He could fuck you, he knows you're a virgin. He could do anything he wants with you. You're powerless.

You shouldn't have, let your intrusive thoughts win but you sighed.

Yoongi would come up with a plan.

He always does but you don't know how much this affected him, how much you being away and in potential danger could fuck with him.

"Do you have water, I'm thirsty", You replied not knowing what else to say.

"Don't be chatty with me, or I'll shove a gun down your throat and shoot make you drink your own blood, see if that'd supress your thirst", He said and you gulped.

That was some real wild thing he said.

You looked around, there was a bottle in the bottle holder on the back seat behind him, so you twisted your body to reach out for it.

Jungkook looked at you from his peripheral vision and scoffed slightly.

You were annoying, he wanted to turn back and leave you back to your house.

He wondered if tagging you along would be a hassle for him.

You sipped on the water.

"You could've just told me it's in the back, wouldn't have been hard", You said leaning your head on the window.

Jungkook didn't reply his hand back on your thigh, moving up rapidly this time.

Your skin was soft under his touch, until it wasn't. Until it was just rough.

You gulped.

He had his hands on your scars.

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