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#about how he feels and felt and what have you
inkskinned · 2 days
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it's because the bear wouldn't kill me just for being a woman. the bear doesn't kill me for fun. the bear can be shouted at, and will leave me alone. the bear won't make a tiktok complaining about how i crossed to the other side of the path when i saw him coming. if a bear kills me, it's just being a bear: it cannot understand logic. it is not acting out of malice - just fear or hunger.
bell hooks once wrote about how porches might be the only outside space left for women - it is still the domain of the house while it is also outside-but-safe. when i am in the woods, i am in the bear's home, and he has a right to defend his property. outside spaces - anywhere at night, certain parks in the day - those are often implicitly "owned" by men. i cannot explain the feeling of knowing when you have entered a man's "territory." you walk into a place and just know you are in their space. you get a sick sense - you're in danger.
the other day a group of about 8 men were fooling around in the woods while i walked my dog. i had to go around, take the extra 3 miles just to avoid them. it's okay, i like walking. this wasn't even a #feminism moment. it was just a tuesday.
what a plain and easy question. only one of the situations is seen as a tragic accident. i would rather die and have a park bench erected in my honor rather than have my family questioned about why they let me, an adult, walk in the woods in the first place when i should really be at home in the kitchen.
i worked in retail and food service. i have had women say and do absolutely heinous and abusive things to me - not because i was a woman, but because i was there, and they were angry. the way men treated me when angry was different - it was because i was a woman. you can always feel the difference, how there's an undertone of i'd hurt you worse if i could get away with it. i keep seeing people try to cite stupid statistics. why is there always a strange rage whenever women agree on things? like men can argue their way out of our lived experiences? it isn't a buzzfeed quiz - which of these traumas are you? 10 super cute ways not to fear strange men.
i have actually (thrice!) seen a bear in the wild, by the way. i died each time, obviously, and am a ghost writing to you. (it was scary but completely and utterly fine). the second encounter was a black bear with her cub. she looked at me like - do we have to do this or are we good? my dog was busy sniffing a bush, completely nonreactive. i felt like i was in a sitcom: feminist poet reacts - does she actually mean she'd choose the bear? my only thought was - she's so beautiful. her paws are massive.
and there's a part of me that feels the rage spinning out in a corner. why do we have to come up with quippy little comments in order to teach men empathy. would you rather die in a car accident or due to a mugging? and would you rather your house burn down due to an electrical fire or due to arson? gee willikers - it's almost like we're human people, and want to risk the accident versus the intention.
i would rather my last thought be oh shit, a bear rather than i'm a person too. why doesn't that matter? why don't you care?
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ttsukiimi · 2 days
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───〃★ WE F⍣CK OFF & ON, OFF & ON .ᐟ
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〃★ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⎯ As the campus’s well known f⍣ckboy, Satoru Gojo wasn’t known to stick around for more than one night in one bed. Well, that unspoken rule just didn’t apply when the bed was yours.
〃★ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 ⎯ gojo x fem!reader, uni au, smut (mdni), protected s⍣x, f⍣ckboy!gojo, hair pulling, p⍣ssywhipped!gojo, mentions of alc⍣hol & bein’ drunk, dirty talk, slight dumbification.
〃★ 𝐚/𝐧 ⎯ Thank you so freaking much for 1.5K!!! 🥹
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Absolutely unbearable.
If there was any way to describe the campus fuckboy, it’d be that.
He was known—infamous for his unique way of fucking women and somehow leaving them attached, yearning for him once more after just one night, while he only left unscathed with his balls empty.
Satoru Gojo was insatiable. And you hated him.
You failed to see what everyone saw in him—he was a total idiot for fucks sake! Granted, he had a pretty face and could be quite charming, and you really couldn’t say for yourself if he was that good in bed, but good things about him paled in comparison to his horrid personality. He knew how attractive he was, and used that any chance he got.
How did he manage to talk his way into and out of anything? You simply didn’t know. But you hated him.
That was…until you yourself finally had a taste of Satoru Gojo.
Drunk at a party and so utterly wasted, you’d failed to acknowledge who was hitting on you, who you got into the taxi with to drive back to who knows where. His hands all over you—so rough yet inviting, even after the alcohol in your system had gone you still found yourself pulled into a trance.
A trance that seemingly pushed you to his bed and under him. Seemingly had you moaning his name all night and for more to come.
And seemingly, now, opening the door to your apartment so he could come in. So he could come in and fuck you like he’s been doing for the past months. Well, that’s just what he thought would happen anyway.
“Satoru,” you huffed, watching as the tall freak plopped himself onto your couch, momentarily jerking his head back before he responded with a hum.
“Can you stop acting like a fool and try not to break anything for once?” You chastised, pointing to a hand of his already playing with the flowers in your prized vase—he hadn’t given you those and had no right to taint them.
The white haired man groaned, rolling his eyes and following you down the narrow hallway to your bedroom. Your steps halted at the doorway and so did his, a low snicker leaving his lips as his hands slid to your waist.
“So,” he sighed in your ear, brushing his soft lips past the skin of your neck, big hands squeezing the flesh of your ass as he snaked them down. “Y’just gonna keep on being grumpy or you gonna let me fuck?”
“Satoru,” you exasperated for what seemed like the umpteenth time, though you didn’t dare take his hands off your body, already surrendering to the feeling. “Just because we’ve been fucking doesn’t mean that I only invite you here because of that.”
You turned around to face him. “We have a project to do, remember?”
“Yeah, yeah. We’ll start after I start.”
And what was Satoru’s definition of that?
It was pushing your head further down into your pillows as he absolutely ravished your cunt, simultaneously holding both your hands back with just one of his.
His thrusts were deep and calculated—to the point where it felt like he knew where every pleasurable spot inside you was. Perhaps he did.
“Dick’s got you all quiet now, hm?” he smirks, sliding his free hand up your back and to your head, pulling your hair back as he speaks. By then you were a drooling mess and as much as you’d hate to admit it—you’re practically dumb on his cock, moaning incoherent little babbles of his name and how big he feels.
Satoru grins behind you, smug because he’s got you, the most prim and proper girl on campus choking on her own saliva. It all felt so surreal, you felt surreal—your soft hips, the succulent ripple of your ass as his hips connected to it, your moans—fuck everything you did was driving him crazy. Even though it was supposed to be the other way around.
He was the one who was supposed to be ingrained in your brain—but here he was, inches deep inside your wet, reeling pussy after he swore the last time he was in your apartment would be the last.
But there’s always a reoccurring cycle with you. He just can’t stop.
“Hah—mph—slow down, S’toru!” you mewl, fat tears swelling in your waterline, your ears perking up at the rhythmic plap! plap! plap! of your sweaty bodies colliding. “If ‘m too loud my neighbors might hear,”
“Yeah? Let them hear how good I’m makin’ you feel then,” he breathes, shallow and unsteady, his toned chest moving in tandem with his inhales. The deep tremble of his voice seems to move throughout your body, vibrating through you in such a maddening way that you’re almost cumming from the feeling alone.
What was even more provoking was the way he pulsed against your gummy walls, thumping and pulsing inside you loud enough that it seemed you could hear it.
And—god was Satoru close, so close he could feel the static of his high zap though his fingers. He groaned, head thrown back in bliss as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he did so deliciously.
Your head was spinning from the mind-dizzying pleasure, eyes rolling back in what Satoru can only admit is the most remarkable expression he’s gotten out of anyone he’s fucked.
His hair was sticking to his forehead now, sweaty from how fast he was working to thrust into you at his abnormal pace. “Can I—“
“No.”
A defeated sigh and a pained grunt as he pulled out just as he was about to teeter off the edge of pleasure, taking himself in his hands and finishing the job. Satoru jerked himself as he watched you shake and convulse in euphoria, your body unwinding as you let your limbs go limp.
Cum seeped from your pussy, dripping down to your clit and sheets—and that sight was all he needed before his hot seed was spurting all over your back, the sensation causing a broken cry to leave your lips.
“Fuck,” Satoru mouthed, breathing hard as he gave your ass little smacks of approval. “That was—shit—so good.”
You nodded, head turning to the side as you watched him take off his cum-filled condom, and dump it in the trash. Satoru plopped back on your bed once he was done.
A smirk graced his lips and you rolled your eyes in annoyance, knowing nothing good could come out of that look.
“When do you think we could do it raw, hm?”
“When you get tested for every type of STD.”
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slvttyplum · 1 day
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ever since getting a house with toji, your parents have found any way to come over and invade your space. you were okay with it at first when they were bringing over dishes and things they weren't using so that you could have them, but it started to get to the point where they were coming every day. It wasn't just the fact that they were coming and staying over; it was the fact that you and toji couldn't fuck. 
it was going on for four weeks, and tojis balls were so full he could barely walk straight, getting distracted at work just fantasizing about sliding his dick into your warm, wet pussy. he missed being inside of you every night; he couldn't take it; he couldn't wait anymore. he tried to be respectful of your parents for once since they were technically helping with the groceries and furniture, but he couldn't stand it any longer; he had to have you.
toji knew how loud you would get when he fucked you; that was the best part. listening to how you whimpered and moaned for him to give you more made his heart jump. that's one of the reasons he tried to keep his hands off of you, but this particular night only fed into the horny thoughts that were swarming around in his head.
slipping into the bed with just a shirt and panties was your first mistake, because not even thirty minutes after you slid under the covers, toji was already sliding into your panties. knowing you needed to stop him, but his hands were already feeling good on your ass and inside your panties. once he was pulling down your panties there no stopping. he was going to try not to get you riled up to respect your parents, but with the smirk that was on his face, he knew that wasn't going to happen.
your thighs pushed back and his face deep in your pussy licking all over, his eyes rolling from finally getting to taste you again, licking you up barely breathing, and having you grind against his face—that was the first of  many things he did to you that night. once he got a feel for how good it felt to taste you and be inside of you again, he had to do it every night.
"just be quiet, and they won't even know." you tried to be, but he was so fucking good at what he did. when his fingers were deep inside of you, curving up and pushing against your sweet spot, making you squirm, the pleasure that bubbled inside of you just couldn't be contained, moans slipping out one by one, without a care for anyone. 
his dick pulsing inside of you had you lightheaded, and you only wanted more. the amount of sex the both of you had each night wasn't enough to make up for a month of no sex.
toji never wanted to know what it was like not to be inside of you every night. it was almost comforting, but he knew he was way too horny for it to be comforting. being so fucked out of your mind he never wanted to stop, that look on your face when he was slamming into you and pressing on your stomach. his dick twitching inside of you whenever he felt you clench around him and his low grunts in your ear as he continues. this went on all night, not caring if yall were going to be late to work or not.
it wasn't until you saw your parents with their bags packed the next morning and nervous smiles on their faces that you knew exactly what happened, embarrassment coating your face and annoyance on toji's, nothing had to be said; everyone's expression spoke for themselves.
if toji knew this was going to get them out, he would've fucked you sooner.
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tacticalprincess · 2 days
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nerd! konig who gets partnered with the class bimbo, and she doesn’t want to do any of the work. she gives him a pussy job so he can do all the work for her
he ends up begging her to let him put in the tip…but nerd!konig gets carried away by the warmth of her wet cunt that he rams his fat cock in her poor tight hole:( he would get all pussy drunk and not even bother pulling out…
seriously, you shouldn’t have expected any of it to be enough for him. your plan was to make him cum by rubbing your wet pussy along his neglected cock in return for a good grade on what’s probably the most important assignment of the semester; a favor for a favor. but you felt bad for him, letting him convince you with glossy eyes that the tip would satisfy him, that he wouldn’t bother you again after that. you were flattered, even, believing him when he said his dick hurts so much, it just needs to be inside you.
the feeling of your tight, gummy entrance clinging to the tip of his cock like it doesn’t want him to leave is addicting, and his craving to have more of you is almost instant. he tries, he really does, his hands shaky and breathing heavy as he fucks the head of his meaty dick in and out of your tiny hole. the squelching sounds coming from your sloppy cunt make him lightheaded, his pre oozing inside of you until you’re all messy with both of your juices. he loses all composure, burying into you to the hilt, his heavy balls smacking against your stretched out cunt. you gasp in surprise at the sudden fullness, and he’s spewing out broken apologies and curses through whimpers and grunts. he lifts you by your ass to pull you closer, humping into your tight, warm heat.
he’s all cross-eyed and dumb, glasses fogging up. your warnings to pull out are ignored. in fact, the thought of pumping his load into abused your cervix is intoxicating, and eventually sends him over the edge. he hides his face in the crook of your neck out of embarrassment, groaning long and high-pitched into your ear. he doesn’t stop cumming for a while, fucking it deep inside of you. he’s pent up from the many nights he’s spent dreaming about this, how many times you’ve left his dick sore and aching from the slightest touches. when he finally pulls out from overstimulation, none of his cum follows, all stuffed inside you. and that’s enough to instantly make him hard all over again.
you better get a good grade after this.
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erwinsvow · 2 days
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shy reader just like this 🥺 and kissing rafe’s forehead when she’s pounding tf out of her
omg stopp!!!
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when rafe's in a mood like this—you don't say anything, you don't have to. you know your boyfriend well enough by now, letting him do what he needs to when he comes home with stress from one place or another.
you have been, since the day he met you, rafe's favorite form of stress relief.
it's not long before you're naked in his bed, your skirt pulled off and shirt in tatters, thrown onto the floor. rafe's still in his clothes—somehow he always is and you're always naked—but you can't bring yourself to mind right now, with the way your boyfriend is slamming into your sore pussy, battering in and out while you lay back and take it.
rafe's rough, some part of him always has been and always will be. considering how long it took you to convince him to even try to be rough with you, you should take this as an accomplishment.
you look down at where the two of you are joint—the way he slides in and out, your wetness shining on his dick and the obscene noise it creates each time he pushes back in. you're wetter than you'd even realized, so caught up in your head that you forgot your body has always reacted primally to rafe's without any action needed from you.
you look until you can't look anymore, looking up at rafe's face, blinking eyes focusing in on his face—eyebrows twisted in concentration, beads of sweat on his forehead. it's all hot, everything is tight and tense and wet, and you're sure to finish in moments, because it never takes rafe long to tip you over the edge.
but you try to hold off, shaky breaths and moans filling the space between you. rafe grunts, picking up the pace and slamming in and out, his hands tight on your hips. you're helpless but to watch, the noises leaving you in rhythm with his motions.
he's concentrated—always is when he's using your pussy like a toy. you'd be a filthy liar if you said you didn't like it.
"r-rafe," you get out, the word a moan and squeal combined.
"shh, s'okay, just take it, kid-"
that's all you need to hear, leaning in and pressing a fast, light kiss to his forehead. you don't know you do it—just that it feels right. if possible, rafe goes faster.
you fall apart first, rafe right after. when you lay back, whole body shivering at the feeling of his hot cum inside of you, rafe returns the kiss, pressing a longer, sweeter kiss to your forehead.
"what was that for, huh?" he asks you, and you seem to have lost all your words.
"i don't know," you mumble, staring up at your boyfriend from your position in his arms, sticky bodies pressed together. "just felt right. i love you."
just when you're about to fall asleep, spent and limbs exhausted, you hear it, the words from rafe preceded by a soft laugh that makes your head spin.
"i love you too, kid."
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rafe + corruption kink
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warnings: flirting, teasing, groping
“how come you’re here if parties aren’t your thing?” rafe currently had an arm draped over your shoulders, his hand resting on your thigh as he gazed down at your pretty face. “my friend wanted me to get out for a while..” you bit your lip, glancing up at the handsome stranger before quickly looking away. rafe smiled at your nervous antics. you gave him the impression that you’re not used to being in close proximity with men, and that idea enticed him more than he cared to admit. “do you know my name?” rafe watched your breathing quicken when he started rubbing shapes into your skin, his hand slowly moving under the hem of your dress.
“no.. i’m sorry, am i supposed to?” he leaned down so his lips were right next to your ear. “well, you’re in my house.” your eyes widened slightly. “really?! you have a beautiful home.” you smiled nervously. “yeah? you like it?” he got up, taking your hand in his, “wanna see more?” you nodded, fully expecting him to show you the pool outside, or maybe the bar in the corner of the living room, but instead you found yourself following him upstairs. “tell me..?” he trailed off, “y/n.” you answered, swallowing thickly as you two entered his bedroom. “y/n, i’m rafe. do you have a boyfriend?”
he guided you to his bed where he pulled you on top of his lap. “umm, no.. but i go on dates sometimes.” nervously fiddling with the ring on your finger, rafe hummed. “dates, huh? do these dates go anywhere?” he stroked your hair softly, tucking a few strands behind your ear as you shook your head. “i don’t think i understand what you’re asking.” your voice was small, the feeling of his fingertips on your skin made butterflies flutter in your tummy. “do they get to have their way with you?” his tone sent shivers down your spine. “like if we kiss and stuff? no.” you felt embarrassed saying it out loud.
rafe cursed under his breath at the revelation, his cock hardening in his shorts. “how come?” he cleared his throat, trying to ignore the way you shifted in his lap. “i don’t know, i just get scared i’m going to disappoint them.” you shrugged. “and why is that?” finally, you looked up, meeting his eyes. “because i’ve never done anything before.” it was like a switch flipped in his brain, and the only thing rafe could think about was stuffing you with his cock and turning you into his own personal slut. “do you want to?” his hand was back under your dress, as if to coax you to say yes.
you let out a shaky breath, blinking at him. “you’ll teach me?” rafe watched your eyes sparkle as you waited for him to answer. “baby, i’ll do so much more than teach you. i’ll make you feel so good you won’t even know what to do with yourself.” you nodded before a word could leave your lips. “you’d do that?” rafe smiled, his fingers slipping under the waistband of your panties. “of course,” he cooed, “but only under one condition.” your stare faltered when you felt a single digit slide between your folds. “no one else except me can touch this pretty pussy.”
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fyorina · 3 days
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ᡣ𐭩 I LAUGH LIKE ME AGAIN (SHE LAUGHS LIKE YOU)
FEATURING: dazai osamu
SUMMARY: four years apart and the ultimate question is about to be answered: do you and dazai really still know each other, or are you clinging to a fantasy of the past? you decide to put it to the test with a game of wits and questions when dazai gets back to your apartment—but as the game drags on, dazai starts to wonder if maybe he was wrong. worse, if maybe he would prefer to be wrong.
(wordcount: 14.5k; ņsfw; fem!reader; port mafia executive!reader, jealous!dazai, possessive!dazai, smoking & drinking, unprotected sex, switch!dazai, switch!reader, undertones of angst (happy ending). lmk if anything is missing, im rushing to get this out!)
AUTHOR'S NOTES: guys here it IS - sorry it's late, but TRUST it's worth it. i'm so proud of this fic, genuinely one of the things im most proud of writing. this is technically a part 2 to he's my collar but can be read as a standalone
It takes far too long for Dazai to make it out of the Port Mafia headquarters, with both Akutagawa and Chuuya prowling about like the dogs they are. He wonders if you tipped either of them off—Chuuya, in particular—because the slug had been looking around like he was searching for someone. He thinks you’re entirely wretched for it, knowing that if he got caught, he’d be trapped in that damp and filthy torture chamber until he managed to finagle his way out, and he plans to make it known to you just how entirely displeased he is by the situation. 
The path to your apartment is achingly familiar, and the giddiness in his chest is something he hasn’t felt since the day he left. He knows that he should probably be more careful—he’s still in Port Mafia territory, your apartment spans the top floor of the easternmost building of the five towers—but he also knows that you’re the only one with direct access to the cameras in this building so he’s more reckless than he would’ve otherwise been. 
The floors tick up agonizingly slowly, Dazai swears that there must be something wrong with the elevator because it’s never taken this long before to get up to your place. His fingers thrum against his thigh, and his foot taps the ground impatiently. He paces from corner to corner within the small space like a caged animal. He thinks that maybe he should be taking advantage of the time alone, come up with some better excuses as to why he didn’t say anything to you before he left.
“I wouldn’t have left,” isn’t going to cut it. As true as it might be, it’s not the full truth, and Dazai knows you’ll be able to sniff it out in a matter of a few seconds with a clear head. He’s not walking into a cheerful reunion between old lovers, he’s walking into what’s about to be a stressful game of chess against a strategist whom Dazai has always considered a near-equal, a battle of wits against a woman whose whole life has revolved around political warfare. If he wants to keep his dignity intact and his secrets safe, he’s going to have to be incredibly cautious with what he says to you and even with how he reacts to what you say to him.
Still, he can’t help the giddiness. The excitement. He’s missed you. He’s missed you so much that it hurts. He’d thought that over time, the longing for you would go away, but it never did. If anything, it got worse because, over time, the pictures of you started to lack the soothing feeling they used to bring to the aching in his chest. Over time, he started to forget the sound of your voice and the sound of your laugh.
He’d known that you’d been sent away on foreign business not long after his last call to you, but he didn’t think Mori would actually keep you abroad for three whole years. He’d been hoping, maybe, that he could stumble into you one day. Or maybe just watch from afar, get close enough to hear the sound of your voice again. He’s been grossly denied of you for too long, and he knows that it’s of his own doing but that only makes it worse.
When the elevator dings, announcing his arrival on your floor, Dazai is sorely unprepared for the conversation about to take place. He steps into your penthouse, eyes drifting around the familiar vast space.
Like your office, not much has changed since the last time he was here. Your coffee table is still set down a few centimeters too close to the couch in the living room—the same couch he had his first kiss on with you when the two of you were sixteen and drunk on champagne celebrating a successful mission. You still hang your black jacket over a chair instead of properly on a hanger, it’s why it always has a crease on the back—he’d noticed it when you left your office, and he can’t help but smile slightly at the confirmation as his eyes linger on where it’s draped over one of your kitchen chairs. 
You tried to convince him that you’ve changed in the years the two of you have been apart, but Dazai doesn’t think you’ve changed much at all.
You’re leaning against the windows, looking down on the city—he knows you must’ve heard the elevator, but you haven’t bothered to look his way yet. There’s an indecipherable expression on your face and a glass of wine in your hand. You’re still dressed in your suit and Dazai notices there’s a glass of whiskey on the rocks untouched on the kitchen table. He shrugs off his trench coat and drapes it over yours, hoping that the scent of you seeps into it because he’s gone too long without it.
His fingers curl around the glass of whiskey you’d left out for him, and for a moment, he swears that he’s eighteen again. He’s making his way to your penthouse after a long mission with Chuuya, you’re expecting him—you always are—and he can never push away the fondness that squeezes his chest when he finds you lounging back on your couch, flipping through channels to find something to watch, a glass of his favorite whiskey set down on the coffee table next to where your feet are propped up as you wait for him to show up.
He wonders if you even care to remember what his favorite is. He wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t.
He makes his way out of the kitchen and back into the living room, and he’s reminded that he’s not eighteen and you’re not waiting for him to show up after a mission because you finally look at him, and his breath catches in his throat.
He thinks you look a bit older now than you did four years ago—to be expected, of course—and there’s a coldness to your eyes that hadn’t been there before. Impossibly, he thinks that you’re somehow even more beautiful than you were when he last saw you, and he realizes again, throat tightening, that even after three years of no contact with you, he’s just as in love with you now as he was the day he left.
He knew it back then before he left, even if he never said it. When he was eighteen and could only feel any inkling of pleasure when he was with you; it wasn’t like he’d never tried to have sex with other people, he’d whore himself out for information at any given chance and slept around frequently after you started dating a civilian to distract himself from the bitter jealousy he felt, but he’d never known how good it was supposed to feel until he slept with you for the first time. When he was seventeen and could only ever feel comfortable in your presence, seeking you out at any given chance when he couldn’t handle being around people anymore; he’d curl up in your office with your orange blanket, napping as you did work, knowing that you’d keep people away from him. He thinks he might’ve even known when he was sixteen when the two of you first met on the streets of the Kanagawa prefecture.
He wonders if you even believed him when he said it earlier—he doubts it, you don’t seem too keen to believe anything he says, and he doesn’t blame you for it. 
But whether you believe it or not, it’s yours—that rotted heart of his, shriveled and shabby, riddled with holes and decay, half-eaten by maggots and worms it might be, but it’s still yours. He thinks that it was meant to be yours since the moment he was born, and it’ll be yours even after the two of you are long dead. He doesn’t know how he’s meant to go without you again—he doesn’t think he can. He knows that despite the tentative ceasefire, the Port Mafia and the Agency are still enemies, but he knows in his heart that he won’t be able to leave you again. Even just the sight of you has condemned him completely. 
Then you speak, and at once, his entire world falls apart.
“I’m leaving again in the morning,” you finally say, tone flat and eyes sharp and shrewd as you look over him. He reminds himself that this is not a reunion, that he needs to get his head on straight if he wants to make it out of your apartment in one piece, but it’s hard. “I was only brought back to smooth things over with the government after the whole fiasco with Fitzgerald and his American cronies. I’ll be leaving for Russia in the morning to meet with Tolstoy and Nabakov. Hopefully, gain some intel on Fyodor Dostoevsky’s plans before the man makes another move on the city.”
He… did not anticipate that you’d be leaving again so soon. Something cold and sharp latches to his heart, like jagged nails ripping it apart. He makes sure it doesn’t show on his face.
“Be careful,” he tells you quietly. “Dostoevsky… he’s not someone to underestimate. Just-Just be careful.”
You raise your eyebrows, unimpressed, “I’ve worked with Dostoevsky before. I don’t need you to warn me about him.” 
Your voice is cool. Sharp. Dazai sighs, knowing that anything he might’ve said to you earlier in the night is lost to you, and he doesn’t know if he’ll have it in him to bare his heart again, only for you to scorn it. He’s not meeting with you as he knows you—as his closest friend, as his lover; he’s meeting with you as the Port Mafia executive. Not the version of you that treats with allies, wining and dining them with glittering eyes and playful smiles as you use your ability to ensure they never turn on the Port Mafia; the version of you that sits at the round table with enemies, with a quick mind and calculating eyes as you decide whether or not they’re worthy of being absorbed into the Port Mafia or if Double Black will be sent out to eradicate them. 
“I told you everything I had to say back at the office,” Dazai tries, and he wonders if you’ll let him get away with it—he doubts it, but it’s worth a shot, and it will at least stall for a few moments as he tries to forcibly turn the cogs in his mind to figure out the best way of appeasing you. “I missed you. I… couldn’t say goodbye to you, not if I was to leave. I…”
I love you.
He doesn’t say it; he thinks he was only able to push it out earlier in the night in the heat of the moment, the orgasm-induced haze fogging his brain enough to let it slip out in desperation to make you give him a chance. And it worked because you gave him a second chance when you invited him back to your apartment, but Dazai doesn’t know how to make the most of the opportunity. He thinks he’s a fool for not preparing for this before getting here.
You click your tongue sharply, lip curling up in something close to disgust, and Dazai is glad he didn’t speak his ‘I love you’ because he thinks he might’ve actually cried if that was your reaction to him saying it.
“The only things you told me earlier in the night were half-truths and sweet talk. I didn’t invite you back to my apartment to hear you beg for another chance, Dazai,” you say coolly, and Dazai desperately misses the sound of his given name on your tongue. The corner of your lip curves up into a half-smirk, eyes suddenly glittering beneath the dim lighting of your penthouse as you add, “Although, I wouldn’t be opposed to it after we talk.”
He thinks the fact that you’re already considering an after might be a good sign. He can feel his cheeks flush a bit at your words, but instead of letting himself get rattled, he takes a step forward, well into your personal space, as he dips his face down so close to yours that his lips nearly brush yours as he speaks.
“I’d beg pretty for you,” he whispers, letting his voice drop an octave as his gaze tracks down to your lips. “I’d even get on my knees.”
Unfortunately, you are entirely unbothered by the proposition. “We’ll see, I suppose,” you say, and then raise your eyebrows, signaling for him to take a step back.
He does, and he feels distinctly put out and rejected by your reaction, but he sighs and asks, “What did you invite me here for then?” 
He very much does not like the way your eyes glitter now—shrewd this time, more amused, dangerous, as if you know the two of you are about to tread down territory that he’s going to be unfamiliar with. You nod for him to follow you into the kitchen, taking a seat at the head of the table and motioning for him to sit opposite you.
He does.
“We can play a game,” you finally concede. Dazai settles back against his chair, fingers still tapping rhythmically against his glass of whiskey, a terrible habit that Dazai has accrued whenever he feels cornered. Not a frequent occurrence, but damning when it is. Your eyes linger on them, and he knows you’ve pinpointed the tell. He forces himself to stop, but from the way your lips curl up, he can tell it doesn’t matter. “Ten questions each. Yes or no answers only.”
Dazai notices that you pointedly leave out any rule about the honesty of each answer—intentional, surely, so he probes.
“How do we determine the winner?” Dazai asks. He finally takes a sip of the fine whiskey you’d poured for him, and his question from earlier is answered. His favorite. There’s a warm feeling in his chest at the realization that you’ve remembered it even after all of these years.
Your lips curve up into a sharper and wider smile, teeth glimmering like knives beneath the soft lighting of your kitchen. The glass of wine in your hands is suddenly more reminiscent of a gun being pointed at him than your choice of alcohol, and he feels as if he’s already made some egregious mistake in your eyes.
“After we give our answer, the other has to decide whether or not it was truthful. In the end, we’ll both see how many the other got right. A test to see how well we still know each other,” is all you say in response. You’re mocking him and his insistence that the two of you are still the same, but Dazai intends to prove himself right. You tilt your head to the side and then say, “The prize is to be determined by the winner. I’ll ask the first question.”
Dazai winks, a lecherous comment already on his tongue about the prize, but the withering look you give him is more than enough to make it die before he can let it loose. He pointedly takes another sip of his drink and sinks in his seat.
He thinks that this should be an easy win. You’re quite the adept liar, but you’ve always had a glaring tell. Well, he amends, it’s glaring to him, at least. Not many others would be observant enough to catch it, and even if they were, only someone with an abundance of experience with you would be able to put it together. His gaze flickers up to meet yours, wondering if your lashes flutter right before you tell a lie. It’s such a simple and subtle tell, so casual that it took Dazai a year and a half to put together, but it was hard to miss once he did.
You hum to yourself as you give off the appearance of thinking about a question, but Dazai knows you better than anyone, and he’s certain that you already have all ten prepared, so he rolls his eyes at the faux show of uncertainty. 
“We both know you know what you want to ask,” he finally says. “Do us both a favor and quit with the theatrics.”
Your lip quirks up in amusement. “And here I was being gracious giving you more time to formulate whatever lies you’ll try to get away with,” you drawl, and Dazai nearly flinches.
“You know me so well,” Dazai sighs to hide how disconcerted he really is. “The question?”
You stare at him for a moment, and your lips curl up into a deceptively soft smile that almost throws Dazai off because, god, he’s missed you. And he knows you’re looking at him like this just for this specific reason because you’re a despicable bitch who knows that he’s always been easily unsettled when people show any semblance of affection toward him, but he can’t help the way he falters.
He tries to brace himself for whatever invasive question you’re about to ask regarding his reasons for leaving. Tries to prepare himself to lie cleanly because he’s sure you’re as aware of his tells as he is of yours. 
Then you ask: 
“Did you defect because of something Oda asked of you?”
Jesus. Right for the throat. You really don’t pull punches. 
Dazai’s throat tightens at the mention of his old friend, but he’s able to keep his expression clear of the sudden pain that your question brings on. You’re watching him carefully for reactions, gaze hawklike as you study his face, and Dazai is not about to let you pinpoint any more of his tells so early in the game.
He figures that this is an easy question; you already know the answer but want to hear the confirmation from his lips, so he decides to tell the truth.
“Yes.”
“The truth,” you say, an indecipherable expression on your face. He wonders if you want to ask what Odasaku asked of him, but that’s not part of the game and Dazai has no intention of answering that.
Be on the side that saves people. If both are the same to you, become a good man.
You might laugh in his face—Dazai Osamu, the Demon Prodigy, a good man? The idea is blasphemous, and he thinks it might actually hurt him if you scoff or laugh in response to hearing that, so he keeps his mouth shut and doesn’t give away more than he has to, hoping that you don’t just straight up ask him.
You open your lips to speak, and Dazai braces himself for the prying question, but instead, you only probe, “First question?”
He wonders if your whole first question and the implications of it was just a means of trying to throw him off because now he’s fumbling trying to remember what he wanted to ask you before you hit him with it. He wouldn’t put it past you to play dirty like that—bringing up his dead friend and his last request just to unsettle him to give you the edge.
“Did we meet during my underground years after I defected?” he finally asks, and yeah, he knows the answer to this question. The missing half of his ear and waking up in the old safe house he used to hide out at with you is more than enough evidence for him to come to a definite conclusion, but he wants to hear it from you.
“Yes.”
Dazai inhales sharply and then murmurs, “That’s the truth.” And then, more loudly and far more affronted, he accuses, “I can’t believe you shot half of my ear off.”
He expects you to toss him a wink and a sharp grin, unrepentant and even finding amusement in his offense, but instead, your expression falters for the first time since he’s arrived. Something strange crosses your face; for whatever reason, his words leave you conflicted and Dazai suddenly feels even more nervous than he already was because now he can’t help but wonder what he might’ve said to you in his drunken state. 
He supposes that’ll have to be another question, but first, he’s going to have to figure out how to phrase it to get a yes or no answer first, without being vague enough for it to be a waste of a question or easy for you to misconstrue.
You hum after a few moments, taking a pointed sip of your wine. Dazai watches curiously—you’re bothered still, you’re not even trying to hide it. He knows you have better control over your facial expressions than this, so he thinks maybe it’s a ploy to get him to start spiraling down a path of useless questions. Put off by his sudden inability to discern your schemes, a part of him wonders if maybe you were right because the him of four years ago would’ve seen right through you right now.
“I’m afraid it had to be done,” you sigh with faux regret, but he can tell from the way the smile on your lips doesn’t reach your eyes that you’re not into the banter. “Were you able to fulfill Oda’s request?” 
Fuck. This time Dazai can’t withhold the grimace that spreads across his face. He tries to keep his voice light with a deflecting comment, “My, bella, you’re really hitting with the deep questions tonight, aren’t you?”
You raise your eyebrows, tilting your head to the side as you wait for an answer, not giving him any room to formulate a response to your question. He finally sighs and shakes his head, taking a long sip of his whiskey. He wishes he had a pack of cigarettes on him, suddenly desperately longing for the pleasant burn of the smoke against his throat; he needs the buzz badly right now.
As if you could read his mind, you shift in your seat a bit and stuff your hand into the pocket of your slacks. It takes a few seconds but you fish out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, sliding them across the table over to him. If he wasn’t already so in his head over the question you asked, he’d make a quip over the fact that you still know him so well despite your insistence otherwise, but he only pulls out a cigarette and lights it, looking curiously down at the familiar brand.
“Since when did you start smoking these?” he asks quietly, eyes fluttering shut as he tilts his head back and takes a long drag of it. He exhales slowly and then adds, “Thought you liked the other ones, in the green box.”
“Teal,” you correct, and then frown a bit. “... Switched after you left.”
Dazai’s eyes flutter back open as his gaze focuses on you, wondering if the implication you left up in the air is something he can take at face value or if it’s just another way of trying to get him to lower his guard. But from the way you suddenly don’t meet his eyes, Dazai thinks you might be being honest: you switched because they reminded you of him.
Dazai’s chest suddenly feels heavy again.
“... No,” he finally responds to your second question. “Not yet, at least.”
“... Truth,” you say, and Dazai’s lips curl into a wry smile.
“Unfortunately.” The word slips out before he can stop it.
Your gaze flickers back up to him, curious, but Dazai doesn’t give you the chance to dwell on his comment, asking his next question: “Did I… admit anything to you that night that I wouldn’t have said while sober?”
His fingers tap rhythmically against his glass of whiskey, half-empty now; he’s anxious to hear your response.
“You did,” you confirm.
Dazai grimaces because that’s another truth, and that is not good. But just like how he doesn’t offer any context for his answers, you don’t either. He doesn’t know what he might’ve admitted or how you might’ve taken it—he’s going to have to waste another question on this topic.
“Truth,” he murmurs.
You hum and then ask, “Do you still blame yourself for what happened to him?”
“Come on,” Dazai complains sharply, tossing you a dirty look now. His jaw is tight. He wonders if you keep asking about Oda as some sort of sick revenge for him leaving, ripping open wounds that never properly healed so you can dig your fingers into them and twist around. You don’t look bothered by his outburst, waiting patiently for a response. He lets out an angry sigh, looking away and taking another long drink from his glass and another drag of his cigarette. 
He voices his first lie, “No.”
You let out a puff of air, rising to your feet and making your way over to the opposite counter, you grab the bottle of whiskey and bring it back over to him, topping off his now-empty glass before pointedly holding out your hand. He passes the cigarette over to you, tilting his head back to watch you bring it to your lips—a part of him longs to lean forward, to slide his hand behind your neck and cradle your head as he brings his lips to yours, inhaling the smoke as you exhale it, dizzy off the proximity to you, high off the buzz of the nicotine, just like the two of you would do when before he left.
He refrains, if only barely.
You exhale the smoke, a small cloud billowing around you—Dazai mourns the waste—and then you pass the cigarette back over to him. Your fingers brush his as you do, and a spark shoots through his arm at the touch.
“A lie,” you finally say, looking down at him with a frown. “You shouldn’t blame yourself. There was nothing you could’ve done to save him.”
“You don’t know that,” Dazai says tightly, averting his gaze from you as you make your way back over to your seat across from him. “If I’d been faster-”
“If Mori wants someone dead, then they’ll die,” you interrupt him, a grimace on your face as you look down at your wine glass. “Trust me, Dazai, there was no saving Oda Sakunosuke.”
Dazai pauses instead of snapping again, catching the expression on your face. Haunted, as if you’re speaking from experience. He tilts his head to the side and then asks quietly, “Are you talking about your ex-partner? Itou?”
If Dazai remembers correctly, he died on a mission when you were seventeen. You never told him the circumstances, and he never asked, but it was the first and only time you ever broke down in front of him.
The corner of your lips tightens, “Is that your next question?”
Dazai barely withholds a frustrated sigh. 
“No,” he says quietly, and then asks, “Did I tell you why I couldn’t say goodbye? The real reason?”
He holds his breath now as he waits for your response. One way or another, this question is a double blade: if he did tell you why, then he’s at another disadvantage because he’s going to feel distinctly bare and vulnerable; if he didn’t tell you, he just admitted that he lied back at your office, at least partially. 
After what feels like an eternity, you finally say, “Yes.”
The truth. Dazai wonders when you’re going to utter your first lie, if you will, or if you’re trying to make some sort of point by being honest with him. He voices his answer and then waits impatiently for your next question as his mind races.
He desperately wants to know how you responded to him back then. Would you have come with him had he come to you before he left? Or would you have chosen the Port Mafia? He wonders if he should ask, make it one of his remaining seven questions, but he doesn’t know if he has the guts to hear your answer, so maybe he’ll just change the subject.
“Are you enjoying yourself at the Agency?”
For the life of him, Dazai cannot figure out your angle. First, the prying questions about Oda and now asking about the Agency. He doesn’t know what he expected at the start of the game—you’ve always been unpredictable, but even more so now. He’s never had such a hard time reading you or your intentions before.
He starts to feel even more doubtful, wondering if you were right.
Maybe he doesn’t know you as well as he thinks he does anymore.
But this is an easy question, so he says the truth with little hesitation, “I am.”
Dazai swears the corners of your lips curl up into a soft smile, but it’s gone so quickly that he might’ve imagined it.
“Good,” you say quietly. “I’m glad.”
Dazai’s lips part, a warm feeling spreads through his chest at the honesty in your tone. Desperately, he wants to know what’s going on—where’s the rage and the betrayal he expected from you? The hate? Why do you seem… okay with all of this?
Irrationally, he starts to wonder if everything from the office was just a heat-of-the-moment conversation. If now that you’ve had time to sit on your thoughts, you’ve realized… realized what? That you’ve moved on from him? That you don’t care what he does anymore? That you’ve accepted that he’s no longer a part of your life? The warmth in his chest disappears, edged away by a sudden coldness and desperation because he thinks he’d rather die than go back to a life without you.
Even more irrationally, he remembers the comment you made back at the office, the admission that you’ve slept around since he left. Oh god, what if you really have moved on?
He knows his next question.
“The people you slept with—were they all one-night stands?”
He doesn’t want to know the answer unless it’s a yes.
You raise your eyebrows at the abrupt shift in his line of questioning, and then, to his absolute horror, you say, truthfully, “No.”
“What do you mean no?” he asks angrily—he thinks if he was a bird, he’d be puffing his chest out in irritation. He feels antsy suddenly, he needs to move around. He starts tapping his foot against the floor, his fingers against the glass. And again, he thinks you’re a despicable bitch because you only look amused at his question as if he’s not beside himself with righteous fury.
“It’s not your turn,” is all you respond with, and Dazai has a distinct urge to throttle you. Then you ask, “Do you feel like you belong there?”
He halts.
His fingers freeze from where they’re tapping against the glass, his foot freezes mid-motion. His lips part as he’s confronted with the very question that he’s been struggling with for two years now. He wants to yes, if only to maybe be a little spiteful, to rub in your face that he’s somewhere good and he’s somewhere where he belongs, and it’s not somewhere with you. A cruel dig to get back for the aching in his chest at the thought of you being with other people, but he knows that you’ll catch the lie, and more importantly, he doesn’t want to hurt you like that.
Maybe he has grown a bit because the Dazai of four years ago nearly killed your civilian boyfriend when he found out that you were dating someone besides him and then promptly made a show of sleeping around to try to get back at you.
So, instead, he says quite honestly, “I don’t know.”
You tilt your head to the side. “Not a yes or no answer, but I suppose it works. How curious.”
He hates your cryptic comments. Pointedly, he side-eyes you as he takes another long drag of his cigarette. Already, it’s nearly down to the nub, so he puts it out on your table, ignoring the distasteful look you give him, and then reaches for another to light as he asks: “Were you in a relationship with any of them?” 
You roll your eyes at his prying, and he cannot hide the abject horror that crosses his face when you say, “Yes.”
“That better be a lie,” he complains, and when you look at him as if to ask if that’s really his guess, he makes a show of pushing out his bottom lip and looking away as he says: “I cannot believe you dated other people. Cheater.”
“We were never even dating, Daz-”
“Yes, we were,” Dazai protests instantly, entirely aghast at your words. “We absolutely were. What does that even mean? Of course, we were dating. Everybody knew it. Ask anybody. Ane-san knew. Gin-chan knew. Chuuya knew. Even Mori knew. We were so dating, you-”
“You never officially asked me to be your girlfriend, which is, unfortunately, the most fundamental step of dating,” you interrupt him, and Dazai stares at you in disbelief.
“I bought you flowers, we fucked exclusively,” Dazai complains, aggrieved. “We were definitely dating, and you definitely cheated on me because we never broke up.”
“If we were dating,” you emphasize the if very pointedly, and Dazai is distinctly put out by it, “then we broke up the day you left without saying goodbye.”
Dazai withers. He has no witty comment to return fire with, so instead, he just takes another sip of his whiskey, grateful for the combined buzz of the alcohol and the nicotine to distract him from the overwhelming guilt he feels whenever you bring up how he left you.
“Do you feel like you belong more with the Agency than you did with the Port Mafia?” 
Your next question is an amendment to your previous on, and it leaves Dazai just as lost.
He wants to belong with the Agency. He does. Desperately. He wants more than anything to feel as at home and comfortable in the light as he does in the dark. He doesn’t want to question his place among them anymore, he doesn’t want to wonder if he sticks out like a sore thumb. He wants to enter the office and feel like he doesn’t have to pretend to be someone he’s not, just so he can keep his place with them. He doesn’t want to have to fear at every corner that he’s going to revert to old habits, and they’ll see him for the monster that he is: a monster that should have never left the dark crevices that he crawled out from, a monster with blood so black that it strikes fear in even the most terrible mafiosos.
“No,” he admits the insecurity that’s plagued him to the one person he feels comfortable enough with to voice it aloud. He can’t bring himself to look up at you, wondering if the admission will give you some sort of sick satisfaction, if you’ll be happy that he’s not finding a place he can be comfortable in without you. Instead, he decides to rush to ask his next question: “The one you were in a relationship with, did you love him?”
He thinks that the question came across as far more timid than he meant it to be, and his eyes slide shut as he waits for your answer.
“There were multiple I had relationships with—” Dazai scoffs, of course, there were multiple. “—...but no, I did not.”
He lets out a soft puff of air, shoulders slumping a bit in relief. But his fingers are still tense around his glass, waiting for whatever question you’re going to ask next that’s going to dig deep into open wounds, stripping him of all of his masks and armor to force him to lay himself entirely bare in front of you.
“Did you really blow up Chuuya’s car before you left?”
His eyes fly open at the sudden change of pace in your questions, noting the smirk curling at the corner of your lips and the amusement glinting in your eyes. He accepts the olive branch quickly as he gives you a sharp smile and asks: “What do you think?” 
Your hand flies to your mouth to muffle a laugh, and the smile on Dazai’s lips becomes a bit softer as he watches you desperately try to get yourself under control. “You’re insane, you know that?” you finally say, still trying to bite back giggles. “He was so mad. Raged about it for weeks.”
Another question pops into Dazai’s head at the mention of Chuuya, and before he can consider whether or not he actually wants to know the answer to it, he asks: “Speaking of Chuuya, was he one of your trysts while I was gone?”
Suddenly, you are not laughing, and suddenly, Dazai regrets speaking.
“No,” he says, shaking his head. “Do not tell me-”
“He was,” you confirm.
Dazai’s glass of whiskey is empty. 
He grabs the bottle and drinks right from it, miserable.
“I think I would’ve rather been stabbed through the heart,” Dazai says mournfully, and though he keeps a faux-light tone with you, his throat feels like it’s swollen, and he feels a bit sick to his stomach.
He’s always been jealous of the bond you have with Chuuya. Absurdly jealous, even. You clicked with him quickly—you clicked with both of them quickly, and maybe it was a matter of the three of you being the youngest of the Port Mafia’s uppermost echelon, but Dazai doesn’t want to attribute it solely to that—but the way you clicked with Chuuya was different from how you clicked with Dazai. Two people so completely human locked away in the dark, clinging to one another to maintain some sense of normalcy; your and his casual humanity made Dazai’s lack of it irrefutable and glaring.
Regardless of the why, he never liked how close you were with Chuuya. 
Even before you were dating him—because you were dating him—a part of him had always felt sidelined whenever the three of you hung out together. Not because of either of your wrongdoings but just because it was hard for him to keep up with the two of you. He always felt a bit lost trying to, unable to follow along when the two of you would start laughing at jokes that he didn’t understand even when you explained them to him, when you would share glances with one another that spoke whole conversations he wasn’t privy to. The two of you got along in ways that Dazai would never be able to get along with anyone because there’s just something fundamentally wrong with him at his core. Chuuya, for all of his talk and fear regarding the question of his humanity, has always been so unfailingly human in ways that Dazai, to this day, cannot fathom to understand.
After you started dating him—because you were dating him—it only got worse because he’d see you with Chuuya and wonder if you were better off with someone like him instead. Dazai doesn’t know how to treat you right, clearly. He can’t even treat himself right; and Chuuya has always been the epitome of a gentleman, loathe Dazai is to admit it—Ane-san drilled that into the other boy where Mori only taught Dazai how to be cruel and unforgiving. The line between love and obsession has always been a terribly blurry one for him, and you have always wavered on either side of it—and Dazai, unfortunately, does not love healthily and obsesses so entirely that it would have most people running for the hills. 
For better or for worse, you’re not most people.
In his spiral of insecurity, he doesn’t catch the way your brows furrow as you put together some puzzle pieces. “Dazai,” you say suddenly, drawing him from his thoughts abruptly. There’s an accusatory look in your eyes that he really does not like. “Were you the one that booby-trapped my fucking apartment?”
Dazai snorts.
“You bastard,” you snap at him, and Dazai can’t help but bite the palm of his hand as a means of trying to stifle his laughter. “Mori thought it was a goddamn assassination attempt. He kept me under watch for weeks because of you. I couldn’t leave the towers without half of the Black Lizards with me.”
“Sorry,” he coos, not sorry at all. Dazai, because he clearly doesn’t know when to learn his lesson, then he promptly asks, “Am I better fuck than Chuuya?”
“Jesus Christ, Dazai, get off the topic of Chuuya and my sex life, it’s clearly only upsetting you,” you snap at him instead of answering the question. Dazai wants to argue and retain some dignity; he’s not upset, but then his entire world is shattered by your next words: “I am not answering this question.”
Dazai blanches. He can feel the blood drain from his face. He’d thought this was an easy question to make him feel a bit better. What do you mean you won’t answer? Does that mean Chuuya-
No. Dazai refuses to believe it.
 “No way,” he says, shaking his head. “He’s not a better fuck than me. You can’t possibly-”
“He’s not,” you finally say, and Dazai audibly lets out a sigh of relief. “But if you ever mention anything along the likes of that to him, you will never fuck me again, Dazai Osamu. Do you understand?”
Dazai is too relieved to even argue. “Yeah.”
“No more questions about my sex life,” you say firmly, and Dazai doesn’t respond, but he does agree internally because he doesn’t think his heart can handle any more scares like that. Your eyes sharpen again, and Dazai braces himself. “Were you the one to tell Mori I lied about being sick so I could skip out on the ball Mishima hosted when we were seventeen?”
Dazai’s eyes narrow right back at you and rather than answering, he shoots one of his own questions at you: “Were you the one to tell Mori I had his contact in my phone as ‘ignore’?”
You take his lack of an answer as an affirmative, correctly so. Dazai has no regrets about ratting you out to Mori because he was not about to attend Mishima’s event without you on his arm. He’d rather die. 
“You bastard, do you know the lengths I went to fake being sick? I wanted one night to relax without people breathing down my neck.”
“If I had to go, you had to go,” Dazai retorts petulantly. “I was not about to suffer with only Chuuya as company. You had no reason to tell Mori about the contact name besides to be petty. I fought with Chuuya for weeks because I thought he was the one to do it.”
You choke on a laugh. “Chuuya was so mad, he had no idea what you were talking about.”
“He tied me to a pole and swung me around for three hours,” Dazai complains, but there’s a smile on his lips as you burst into laughter, unable to stifle the giggles that spill from your lips.
“I know,” you wheeze, “I got it on video. We watch it sometimes when we’re bored and can’t find a movie.”
Dazai gapes, and you laugh harder, but for the first time in four years, Dazai finally feels… at home, he feels comfortable in his own skin again. He’s back in your penthouse, he’s drinking his favorite whiskey and smoking his favorite brand of cigarettes, you’re sitting at the kitchen table with him and laughing your head off at his expense, and for a moment, Dazai feels as if nothing has changed: he feels like himself again, eighteen and entirely enamored by the sight and sound of you, and you feel like you again, all of the doubt that had begun to rise to his chest as the two of you played the questions game long gone.
He falls in love with you all over again. Harder this time. Faster. He thinks he’ll fall in love with you again and again every day for the rest of your lives, each time more than the last, no matter how impossible it might seem.
He thinks maybe it’s not that he feels like he belongs with the Port Mafia more than the Agency. He thinks that it’s you. You’re the one he feels at home with. You’re the one he’s comfortable enough to be himself with. You’re the one he belongs with, always has, and always will.
After a few moments, you finally manage to get yourself under control, still giggling a bit as you look back up at him. Your smile is softer now, eyes gentle, more genuine than the smile you gave him before asking the first question. Dazai’s breath catches because when was the last time you looked at him like this—the last time anyone has looked at him like this? A warm feeling spreads through his chest; Dazai thinks he would stay in this moment forever if given the opportunity.
“Are you happy?” you ask quietly
Dazai blinks, startled, and an odd feeling spreads through his chest once your question registers. His lips part to answer, but no words leave them; he draws back as if he’s been slapped, a bit flustered and confused because that’s the furthest thing from what he expected you to ask. He wonders if you’d asked the last three questions to lull him into a false sense of security.
“I-” he starts to say but cuts himself off. “What kind of question is that?” 
He tries to deflect instead of properly answering, frowning, but you only raise your eyebrows, pointedly keeping your lips sealed to let him know that you expect an answer. He shakes his head and then sighs, bouncing the question in his head a few times before going for a cop-out: “When I’m with you? Always.”
You’re not pleased by his decision, frowning as you look away from him—he knows that’s not what you asked, not really, but you should have been clearer with your question if you wanted him to give you the answer you expected. But he doesn’t like the sudden disappointment on your face, it leaves his skin itchy and his chest longing for the soft look to return.
So he sits there, ruminating on the question. Is he happy? He should be, right? He’s saving people. He’s on the way to fulfilling Odasaku’s final request. He has a whole group of people whom he can rely on without having to fear being taken advantage of or betrayed at every corner. He’s happy.
But is he trying to convince himself of it? Why is he still trying to kill himself if he’s happy? Why is there a part of him that feels lonely no matter how surrounded he is by people? Why is it that when he’s at his lowest points, the only two people he wishes he could be with are you and Chuuya? Why does he ache for the days he’d spend dragging the two of you around Yokohama, causing trouble for Mori—the closest he’s ever felt to enjoying life?
“I don’t know,” he finally amends his answer, looking down at the bottle in front of him and the cinders of the cigarette dangling between his fingers. He lifts it to his lips again, taking one last drag of it as he tries to figure out what his last question should be.
There’s only one pressing question he has left, but he hesitates, unsure if he really wants to know your answer.
He forces it out anyway.
“Would you… would you have come with me back then?” His voice is quieter than he intended, cracks over ‘me’, and to your credit, you don’t react to the question, expression as eerily still as it was before, as if you’re considering your words.
A yes or no. It shouldn’t take this long for you to answer. Each second that passes feels like an eternity, and Dazai suddenly feels anxious, he doesn’t know why he asked this question because if the answer is no—if it’s no, then…
Finally, you let you a soft sigh, taking a sip of your wine as if to prolong his agony.
Your lashes flutter before you speak.
You lie for the first time that night.
“Yes.”
Dazai’s voice sounds far away as he says, “That’s a lie.”
“I guess you were right,” you say softly, but you sound so distant, like you’re on the opposite side of a long, empty tunnel and not sitting right in front of him. “We do still know each other decently well; you got them all right.”
Dazai doesn’t care. In fact, he would have gladly conceded a loss in this game, and he would’ve gladly admitted that maybe the two of you don’t know each other as well as you used to if it meant that he got the last question wrong because then he would’ve just given you a coy expression and asked if you’d let him get to know this new version of you too. You would’ve said yes, and he would’ve made quite the pleasurable night out of it for the two of you. Instead, he had to insist that nothing has changed, and now he has to come to terms with the fact that he was right and he had known you well enough back then to know not to ask you to leave with him because you would have chosen the Mafia over him. 
He’s so lost in his thoughts that he doesn’t even notice you approaching him until you’re leaning on the table next to him, index and middle finger coming beneath his chin to tilt his face up toward you. He looks up at you through his lashes, eyes searching your face, but he only finds another blank slate that he can’t read. His breath hitches when your hand slides from his chin to cup his cheek, and he can’t help the way that he leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut.
“I would choose you over so many things, Osamu.” You speak his given name for the first time in years, but he can hardly find any comfort in it because he knows he’s not going to like what you’re about to say. Your fingers card through the tips of his hair, brushing the dark locks behind his ear as your thumb sweeps over his cheekbone. “But not over the Port Mafia. Just like how you didn’t choose to stay for me.”
“It’s not the same,” he says, voice hoarse. “It’s-”
“It is,” you interrupt, voice deceptively gentle, and he thinks you’re entirely unfair because he can hardly focus with your touch distracting him. He’s missed it so much—he’s gone four years without it, without any type of touch that wasn’t him getting his shit kicked in by Kunikida or an enemy. “You didn’t choose to stay for me. I wouldn’t have chosen to leave for you.”
“Why?” Dazai asks tightly, and he hates that when his jaw tenses, you smooth your fingers over it, and he unclenches it immediately.
There’s a sadder look in your eye now as you give him a small smile. “You know why.”
Of course, he knows why. He feels the hatred deep in his gut as his mind draws back to Mori. Because that’s who the issue is. It’s not the Port Mafia. It’s not your friendship with Kouyou. It’s not even your friendship with Chuuya that’s the issue. It’s Mori and your undying loyalty to him. No matter how much you claim to despise him, bashing him every chance you get, sneering at him whenever he tries to treat you like his daughter, Dazai knows that when it comes down to it, you’ll always choose him. You’d throw yourself on a sword if he asked it of you, and not for the first time, Dazai wants to spit in the man’s face for making you feel as if you’re eternally indebted to him for rescuing you from that warzone so many years ago; for making you feel as if you’re nothing without the Mafia, nothing without him.
“You don’t owe him anything,” Dazai says tightly. “You have to know that by now—you don’t owe him anything.”
“I don’t want to have this conversation, Dazai,” you sigh, sounding tired. Your hand drops from his face, and Dazai longs for your touch again instantly. His fingers twitch from where they’re resting on his lap; he only barely stops himself from reaching out for you. You try to smile as you change the subject, but it hardly meets your eyes, “It’s a tie then. No prize for either of us, hm?”
Dazai is not so inclined to switch the subject. He wants to press on this now that he has the chance; he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to rip you out from beneath Mori’s thumb, but he needs to at least try… but you’re leaving again in the morning, and Dazai also does not want to ruin this night with you. He doesn’t know when he’ll get another.
So, instead, he matches your half-assed smile as he looks up at you and says, “I didn’t say you got them all right. You only said that I got them all right.”
You raise your eyebrows. “Did I get any wrong?” you ask, amused.
No.
“Yes.”
“Liar,” you say, but there’s a fond lilt to your tone as you let out another puff of air, the smile on your face finally reaching your eyes as you look down at him. The soft lighting of your kitchen casts a pretty glow over your face, your smile is so entrancing that Dazai thinks he could stare at it forever.
“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes out, the words slipping from his lips before he can stop them. “I’ve missed you so much.”
He’s sure he must look like a fool right now, entirely enamored by the sight of you, unable to even fathom drawing his gaze away. He wonders if you’ll protest again, call him a liar, and shift away from him.
You don’t.
The smile on your lips falls, and a wrecked expression crosses your face as your eyes search his. Your lips part to speak, and he waits with bated breath for whatever you’re about to say—he thinks that if you deny him again right now, it might completely shatter all of the walls he’d so carefully built to protect himself.
“I’ve missed you too,” you whisper as if you’re scared to speak the words out loud—and how can he blame you when the last time you dared to speak them, he hung up on you, never hearing from him again until tonight.
God, the guilt he feels whenever he thinks of you returns with a vengeance, so intense that Dazai starts to feel sick to his stomach. He can’t handle it, so he does the only thing he knows how to do to distract himself from it.
His movements are clumsy as he pushes himself up to his feet, nearly tripping over the leg of his chair, and his fingers feel clunky as he lifts them up to cup your cheeks. For a second, he fears that you might move away from him, but you don’t, so he leans in to press his lips against yours.
There’s no tenderness to his kiss. Dazai kisses you like he wants to consume you, lips sliding messily against yours, blunt nails indent crescents into your cheeks as he holds you close. Usually, he would be embarrassed by his blatant desperation and lack of finesse—he’s never been a sloppy kisser, when the two of you were younger, you would always let out pleased hums into his mouth, lashes fluttering as he worked his lips carefully against yours, tongue sliding against your own as he traces his name on it. 
All of his finely honed skill is thrown out the window now as he kisses you like a man who has been starved for years. He has been starved for years—the quick fuck in your office did nothing to quell the longing he’s felt for you the past four years. He could kiss you for hours. Days, even, and it still won’t be enough. Nothing short of an eternity with you would be enough to make up for the four years he’s been deprived of you.
He lets out a low groan into your mouth as you nip at his bottom lip, hands sliding from your face down to your hips. He’d take you here. Right now. But he remembers the last time he tried to fuck you on your kitchen table, it ended with him choking on the barrel of your gun as you yelled at him for being gross (“I eat on this table, you heathen!”) and he’s not particularly in the mood to set off your temper now that he finally has you in his arms again, so it’s with much restraint that he grabs you by the hips to walk you back into your bedroom.
He can hardly concentrate as your fingers twist the hair at the nape of his neck, soft moans slipping from his lips, muffled against your mouth. It’s only sheer instinct and muscle memory that has him making his way from the kitchen and down the hall. He can’t bring himself to separate his lips from yours for even a second. And he’s a mess because he’s not coherent enough to force himself to breathe properly through his nose, so his lungs are burning and his head feels a bit light, but he doesn’t care so long as it means he can keep kissing you.
Turn left, turn right, second door from the end of the hall. 
His fingers fumble for the knob of your bedroom door, pushing it open a bit too hard, considering the way he hears it slam against the wall and how you tug his hair hard in retaliation. He doesn’t care, moans a bit louder even when your nails scrape his stinging scalp, and you let out a derisive noise against his lips before biting down hard enough to draw blood.
The taste of iron makes a slow smile curl at his lips, walking you back toward the bed, and it’s only when your knees hit the edge that you finally pull away from him. “If you broke my door, you’re fixing it, Osamu.”
Dazai’s smile is lecherous. “I’m gonna break something alright,” he croons, relishing in the way you immediately roll your eyes at him. It’s all so familiar—he can almost pretend that he never left, that nothing has changed since the two of you were eighteen, dumb, reckless, and in love.
Before he can press you back against the bed, he feels your fingers drop from around his neck to his waistband, curling around his belt loops. In an instant, you’ve twisted the both of you around, and suddenly, it’s the back of Dazai’s knees pressed against the edge of the bed as you push him down onto the mattress. He hits the sheets with an ‘oof’ and a hazy smile, surrounded by the scent of you, drowning in the sight of you. He thinks he might be in heaven. 
You shift on top of him, straddling his waist; Dazai’s hands instantly come to rest on your thighs, sliding up the sides to grab your ass and pull you more firmly onto him. He groans when he feels you grind down against his cock, and god, he’s already hard just from kissing you. He hears you snort above him, but Dazai doesn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed.
His lips part in a silent moan as you lean down to ghost kisses along his jaw, hands sliding up his chest. He feels you wrap your fingers around his bolo tie and tug it, you let out a sharp noise of distaste against his skin before murmuring: “I hate this ugly thing.”
He lets out a huff of laughter that quickly breaks off into a moan when your lips trail to the spot behind his ear that always makes him writhe. His fingers bite into your hips, pushing you down on him as he rocks his hips up into you—shit, he might be able to cum just from this. His cock is straining painfully against his beige pants, twitching as he grinds up against your clothed cunt. He thinks maybe if he fucks his hips upward a few more times, he might be able to push himself over the edge, but as desperate as he is to chase his release, he refuses to cum anywhere but inside of you.
Plus, he thinks he’ll be shamed to hell and back if he finishes in his pants with you hardly touching him. 
“Then strip me out of it,” he gasps, lashes fluttering as your teeth graze his pulse point right above the edge of his bandages. Fuck, he’d give anything for you to bite down—riddle him with marks he can’t cover so he can flaunt them off to everyone who looks at him. Dazai knows that there are countless men and women out there who’d die to be able to be called yours, he wants them to know he’s the only one who can take that honor. “What’re you waiting for?” 
You hum and then sit back on his hips—he bites his bottom lip raw as you unintentionally put even more pressure on his cock. He’s half dazed out, not realizing that your grip tightened on his bolo tie until you straight up yank it off of him, snapping the string around his neck.
“No!” he complains, watching with wide eyes and parted lips as you fling the now-broken bolo tie off to the side of your room. “Noooo, why’d you do that? I’m going to have to order a new one.”
“Boo-hoo,” you say dryly, hardly paying attention to him as your fingers curl around the hem of his vest, pulling it up over his head, snorting when he lets out a puff of irritation as his nose gets caught around the collar. 
“This is so unsexy,” he protests, rubbing his nose. “Shouldn’t you be more gentle?” 
“Stop wearing so many layers of clothes,” you retort, but Dazai is placated when you lean back down to kiss the corner of his lips, lashes fluttering as his eyes slide shut. He lets out a pleased hum as you kiss down his jaw, nimble fingers unbuttoning his final layer of clothing. He wishes he wore an undershirt just to watch you huff in annoyance. His breath catches as you nip at his skin and then murmur, “This better?” 
“Yeah,” he breathes out, voice wavering as you get down to the last button of his shirt, sliding it off of his shoulders and easing him out of it. His body shudders as your hands slide over the bandages wrapped around his abdomen. Fuck, it’s been so long since anyone’s touched him beneath his clothes, even with the bandages still acting as a layer between the two of you, his nerves are on end, sensitive to everywhere your fingers touch.
He wonders if you’ll pull off the bandages—it’s a line that the two of you only crossed once back then, and although the idea of it has him brimming with anxiety, he longs for the feeling of your skin flush to his.
He almost feels a bit embarrassed when you sit back again to admire him as if there’s not a scar-ridden body hidden beneath the bandages. You look at him like he’s beautiful, like he’s not a monster disguised as a man, like he’s human. Dazai has always felt distinctly seen beneath your stare like you can see through all of the masks he wears and see him for him, and that has not changed over the past four years.
He’s missed the comfort of it. He has. It used to unnerve him back then, thinking someone could see him so clearly when he tried so hard and so carefully to hide himself beneath layers of impenetrable masks, but after going four years alone, with no one for him to turn to, no one he could look at and have them just know what he’s thinking… 
Yosano once mentioned offhandedly that to be loved is to be seen, and Dazai thinks the only time he’s ever been seen—truly seen, down to his core, deep in his soul—is when he’s with you.
It was a very lonely four years without you.
“I thought about you every day,” Dazai tells you softly, the grip on your hips easing up as he looks up at you. “Made a list of places I wanted to bring you and then burned it because I never thought I’d get the chance to be with you again. Stared at old pictures of you all the time, couldn’t sleep without thinking about memories with you. Drank your favorite wine just so I could pretend I was tasting it off your lips.”
You bring your hand up to cup his cheek, and Dazai leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut again. He kisses your palm, humming softly when your thumb runs along his bottom lip.
“There wasn’t a single day I went without you crossing my mind,” you admit quietly and Dazai’s breath hitches as he stares up at you, dark eyes wide and lips parted. He thinks he should say something, anything really, but it’s a lost cause. You don’t seem to mind, luckily, because you only lean down to brush your lips against his again.
This kiss is softer than the last, lips trembling against yours as your tongue dances along his inner lip. He thinks his cheeks might feel wet but he doesn’t dare acknowledge it; you don’t either, only using your thumbs to brush away the tears as they spill over his cheeks.
“Are you really leaving again in the morning?” he finally asks, and he hates that his voice cracks over the words.
You hum in agreement, still hovering over him, still running your thumbs along his cheekbone. His lashes droop shut, but he forces them back open as you speak. “I am. Bright and early. Flight leaves at six.”
His gaze flickers to the left, over to where your alarm clock is set up on your nightstand. 
12:35
He looks back at you, eyes swimming with desperation.
You give him a soft, wry smile. “We should make the most of the night then, hm?”
He doesn’t waste any time on that.
His grip on your hip tightens, and in one swift motion, he flips the two of you around, elbows resting on the mattress on either side of your head as he hovers above you. Your eyes glitter as you give him a coy smile, and again, Dazai falls in love.
Then, he ruins the moment.
“Tell me how you fucked Chuuya.”
Your smile drops. “Osamu, what the fuck?”
“Tell me,” he pouts, nudging his nose against your cheek and peppering soft kisses on your cheek and down your neck. His knees drop to the bed on either side of your hips, holding up his weight as he reaches down to unbutton your slacks, sliding them off your body. A smile flickers onto his lips as his fingers graze your panties—drenched, finally, evidence that he’s not the only one so affected by this. “Tell me. Were you on top? Did he take you from behind? Was he rough? No, it’s Chuuya-”
“If you care so much about how Chuuya fucks, Osamu, how about you go fuck him yourself?” you interrupt him.
Dazai gags.
“Don’t ever say that again,” he says and then returns to his mission, fumbling with his own pants now as he tries to yank them and his briefs off, unable to hold back the relieved sigh when he finally frees his cock, unceremoniously tossing them to the floor. “Tell me.” 
“Why do you care so much, hm?” you ask, reaching up to brush his hair out of his eyes. “I told you that you were better.”
You’re only trying to deflect from the question and he almost lets you succeed, partially placated, but he stays strong, leveling an unrelenting stare onto you as he waits for your answer. You sigh heavily, and he knows he’s won.
“Not rough,” you say as if Dazai hasn’t already come to that conclusion. Chuuya’s had a crush on you since the three of you were sixteen. Dazai assumed he had grown out of it, but evidently, he was wrong, considering he took the opportunity to sleep with Dazai’s girlfriend—because you were his girlfriend—the moment Dazai was out of the picture. What a little snake. Dazai needs to vandalize his apartment again. Maybe set up a few more bombs. He’s only drawn back from his mental spiral when you start talking again: “He took the lead. Wanted to see my face the whole time, make sure I was okay.”
“How gentlemanly of him,” Dazai says—he’s not bitter. He’s not.
“It was,” you agree, too genuinely.
Dazai squints at you hard. 
“Don’t look at me like that,” you say. “You asked.”
“You don’t need to sound so wistful.”
“Oh, shut the fuck up, Osamu, I’m not wistful.”
“How-”
“Are we going to talk about Nakahara Chuuya all night, or are you going to fuck me?” you interrupt immediately, looking increasingly incensed. Dazai only raises his chin at you pointedly—you’re the one that slept with Chuuya. “Time is dwindling, Osamu.”
Okay. 
Dazai’s gaze flickers back to the clock and then back down to you, withering a bit under your irritated stare. He sighs and leans back over you to kiss the corner of your lips, fingers curling around the hem of your panties to slide them off your legs.
“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin, his kisses linger against your skin now as he drags his lips down to your jaw. “The thought of him being with you…”
It makes Dazai want to do terrible things. The part of him that he locked up deep within rattles at the bars of its cage, furious and bloodthirsty. The trigger finger he’s been so careful to tame twitches with a desire he hasn’t felt in four years. The thought of anyone being with you makes Dazai sick to his stomach—Dazai is the only one who should get to see you like this, be with you like this—but the thought of Chuuya being with you is so much worse.
“You’re all I’ve ever wanted, Osamu,” you tell him quietly, fingers intertwining with his hair as he nips at your neck. “No matter how much I slept around, nothing was ever able to fill the hole losing you left. Not even Chuuya.”
Dazai exhales, shaky—the guilt returns, and so does the doubt because what right does he have sitting here being petty about what you did while he was gone when he was the one who left you behind without so much as a word? His eyes flutter shut, he spares a few more chaste kisses across your throat before lifting his face back to yours, kissing you gently.
“Let me make up for lost time then,” he says softly.
He doesn’t hesitate now, one hand dropping down to your thigh, lifting it to wrap around his waist as he presses his hips into you. His breath shudders when his cock slips against your folds, a low moan spilling from his lips. He has to reach down to angle himself properly, tip pressing against your tight hole.
The fingers of his free hands are shaky as he lifts them to cup your cheek. “Look at me,” he says, heat spreading through his abdomen when he realizes you already can hardly hold your eyes open, quick breaths escaping your lips as you try to keep yourself from cumming already. “Look at me, I want to see you.”
Your eyes flutter open, lidded and heavy as you look up at him, and Dazai thinks that maybe he could cum just from the expression on your face alone, inhaling sharply as his thumb drags across your bottom lip. He thinks maybe he should try to get ahold of himself, fearing that if he pushes inside of you now, he might cum on the spot, but his cock is aching so badly that Dazai thinks he might die if he doesn’t feel your heat around him immediately.
It takes all of his strength to keep his eyes from sliding shut as he pushes inside of you, desperate to see the way your face twists and your breath catches. Your lips tremble, chest rising and falling rapidly, he can feel your thighs tightening around his waist, and Dazai groans when your heels dig into his lower back, forcing his hips flush to you, burying his cock deep in your cunt. He chokes, grip on your thigh bruising; his abdomen tightens, and his head feels light.
No way, he thinks, gritting his teeth as he tries to hold back the waves of pleasure threatening to tear through him. He hears you let out a huff of laughter beneath him, and Dazai would shut you up with a sharp thrust of your hips, but he’s still desperately trying to regain control over himself, so he thinks that’s maybe not the best idea.
His forehead drops to rest on the pillow next to your head, lips brushing your ear as he lets out a low moan. He can’t even savor the way you let out a full-body shudder, fingers coming up to toy with the hair at the nape of his neck. Fuck, you’re so tight—Dazai can feel your walls tightening around him, spasming, his breath is shaky, and he tries to distract himself by pressing his lips to your skin, mouthing messily at your skin, sucking and nipping and counting to ten as he tries to settle down.
But it’s hard with the soft sighs you’re letting out, the way your fingers catch on his tousled hair, tugging enough to make his scalp sting. His head is so fogged that he can hardly think straight—god, he’s missed this, he hasn’t had the comfort of letting himself go like this in… since he left, really. His mind is always turning, plotting out ten, twenty, thirty steps in advance in fear of making a mistake, slipping up and letting the rest of the Agency see him for what he is, slipping up and their lives being the price just like with Odasaku. It’s only with you that’s ever comfortable enough to finally let the cogs in his brain slow and shatter, lose himself in carnal pleasures, lose himself in you; it’s been four years since he’s last had a reprieve from his own brain.
But he only lets himself slip halfway—tonight isn’t going to be about him, it’s about you. He has four years to make up for and he intends on getting a good start on it tonight.
He pants quietly as he lifts his head enough to bite your earlobe, tugging it gently before pressing his lips to your temple. “I’ve missed this,” he admits, voice raspy and clogged thick with emotion. “I’ve-”
He can hardly get the words out, and his breath catches when your hands slide from behind his head to cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. He thinks he must look wrecked—he can already feel the sweat beading on his forehead, and he knows his eyes are probably glazed over. You still look stunning, a soft expression on your face as you look up at him as if he’s not buried to the hilt inside of you. 
Unfair, he thinks mournfully. 
“What're you still holding onto, hm?” you ask, and Dazai only barely registers your words, sinking into your touch as you brush matted hair out of his eyes. He can finally bring himself to roll his hips—experimental, slow, trying to make sure he can actually move before trying to fuck you. Then you sigh softly, and he’s too out of it to try to make out the expression on your face as you say: “You work yourself so hard… always have. I’ve got you, you can let go, Dazai. C’mon.”
“No,” he hums, but his voice is strained, evidence of his struggle. “Tonight’s about my favorite girl.”
“Favorite?” you tease, lifting your shoulders off the bed to ghost a kiss against his lips that nearly has his hips stuttering—the conversation so reminiscent of one that the two of you had at seventeen it almost makes him smile.
“Only,” he amends quietly, kissing your nose, then the corner of your lips, and then nipping your jawline.
Just when he thinks he’s good to actually start picking up the pace, intent on fucking the thoughts out of you until you forget about your stupid flight in the morning, he catches a suspicious expression on your face, one that has his eyes narrowing.
“What?” he asks dubiously; your eyes are glittering in a way that he knows from experience is dangerous. 
You don’t say anything, just look pointedly at your thighs, then up to his shoulders. Dazai tilts his head to the side, recognizing what you want, and after a moment’s hesitation, he slides your legs up above his shoulders, folding them to your chest, eyes nearly rolling back at the new angle. Fuck, his hips do stutter this time, breath hitching. He has to readjust again, mentally focus on not cumming on the spot, and then-
And then you say: “He had my legs like this.”
A trick. 
Dazai knows it. 
You’re trying to make him let go of the thin thread of self-control he still has. To give in. To let all of the gears in his brain finally fall apart for the first time in four years.
He knows it.
He falls for it anyway.
Dazai’s jaw tightens, gaze snapping down to you only to catch a goading look in your eyes, a sly smile on your lips that Dazai has every intention of fucking right off your face. He inhales sharply, one hand sliding up your body to grab your chin, blunt nails digging a bit too deeply into your cheeks.
“Yeah?” he says, voice rough. 
Your lashes flutter and lips part as Dazai pointedly jerks his hips up. Your breath catches over a moan, and Dazai knows that this new angle is affecting you just as much as it is him.
“Mhm,” you agree, and just like that, the thin thread snaps.
He snaps his hips into you so hard that your bedframe bangs loudly against the wall behind it, quickly setting a steady pace, nice and deep, quick enough that you can’t even get a breath of air to your lungs before Dazai is fucking it right out of you. Already, he’s so fucked out that his mind is in shambles, one hand settling on your hip to hold you in place as he thrusts his hips into you, hitting that sweet spot with each stroke while his other hand, still cupping your face, slides down to your neck.
He doesn’t squeeze—wouldn’t dare to cut off the pretty noises spilling from your lips, moans of his names, choked gasps and cries between each rock of his hips—but the fact that you trust him, him, enough to have his fingers wrapped around your throat is always a quick way make him topple over the edge.
His eyes dart down to your chest, realizing, very unfortunately, that you haven’t taken off your button-up yet. He nearly bites down on his tongue in frustration as his hand comes down to your chest, careful to keep the pace of his hips as he hooks his fingers around the first button just to yank down, popping off half of the buttons of your expensive dress shirt and haphazardly pulling it off of you to toss it to the side before fumbling with the clip of your bra.
“Osamu,” you hiss, and Dazai revels in the way your voice wavers with each thrust, biting back moans. “That’s the second-”
You don’t get to finish your sentence. Dazai tosses your bra over with your discarded shirt and dips his head down to wrap his lips around your nipple, tongue swirling around the sensitive bud before rolling it between his teeth, and you’re gone—Dazai lets out a muffled groan around you as your back arches up into him, crying out his name, walls tightening around him as you cum on his cock.
“Oh-f-hah-fuck,” Dazai gasps as he rests his head on your collarbone, grip on your waist tightening. 
He has to physically force himself to lift his head, bracing his forearm on the mattress next to your head, desperate to see the way your eyes roll back, he can already feel himself teetering over the edge—the lewd sound of skin-on-skin, the sloppiness of his cock driving in and out of your cunt, he can feel your cum dripping down his cock, smeared on his pelvis.
His hand slides behind your head, lifting it from where you have it pressed against the mattress. Beautiful—the only thought that can run through his hazy brain is of you and how perfect you are, lips swollen and bitten raw, parted as pitched moans escape them, tears spilling from the corner of your eyes as he fucks you through your orgasm and right into a second. He’s the only one that should ever get to see you like this, with your clever brain fucked right and dumb, body writhing against the bed as you cling to him.
He leans down again, trailing sloppy kisses against your neck, gasping as he starts to feel his high approaching.
“No one makes you feel like this,” he says, or maybe he begs, he’s not sure if he’s making a statement or pleading for you to tell him it’s the truth. “Tell me. T-shit-tell me.”
“No one,” you sob over another moan, and Dazai can feel your pussy fluttering around him—he wonders if he’s already fucked you into a third. Usually, it takes longer. “No one, Osamu, you’re the only one.”
And that’s the only thing he needed to hear to give him that final push. His steady pace shifts into a more erratic one, sloppy and desperate, as he chases a high that’s just out of reach. His moans are muffled against your skin, teeth scraping your collarbone, mind a jumbled mess of thoughts of you. He feels your fingers trembling as you lift them to his cheeks, pulling his face up to press your lips against his, and that’s all it takes: he lets out a wanton moan against your mouth, pressing your legs further into your chest as his hips still against your ass, finishing deep inside of you.
Spots dance in his vision, head buzzing and ears ringing; he swears his orgasm lasts an eternity, body shaking and shuddering above you, letting out breathy moans into your mouth. He can feel his cum dribbling out of you, pooling onto the sheets beneath the two of you, so much of it that you can’t even keep it all in you. 
He doesn’t let his lips leave yours once—the kisses are messy and sloppy, devoid of all of the finesse that the two of you usually have, teeth nearly clashing, tongues sliding against each other’s. 
It’s only when his vision finally starts to clear and his head feels less on the verge of passing out does Dazai finally trails kisses from your lips to your jaw and down your neck before he finally collapses on top of you, mind entirely gone, like he’s floating on clouds. He pants as he tries to catch his breath, eyes lidded as he absently trails kisses along your chest and collarbone. He thinks the world could be ending around the two of you, and Dazai wouldn’t even have the capacity to notice. For the first time in four years, he really, truly allows his brain to rest.
He doesn’t know how much time passes, eyes drooping shut as he lets himself be enveloped by your arms, drowning in the comfort of your scent.
He doesn’t want to know. He’s scared to look at the clock and check.
“Tonight was supposed to be about you,” Dazai finally complains, burying his face in your chest as he pouts.
You only let out a soft laugh above him. “We have the rest of our lives for that… You deserved a break, Osamu.”
The rest of our lives.
Dazai’s throat tightens, vision blurring a bit at the thought—he can only barely bring himself to respond, and the words that slip out are not what he means to say: “I never thought I’d get to be with you like this again,” he admits, voice hoarse. “I never thought-”
“I know,” you interrupt, voice quiet, a bit shaky. “... I know.”
Of course, you know.
He can’t bring himself to say anything else, so he doesn’t, sinking into your arms and allowing himself the comfort he’s deprived himself of for so long. He almost starts to drift off—and god, he can’t remember the last time he’s dozed off willingly, only able to sleep after drinking copious amounts of alcohol or taking an even more copious number of sleeping pills. It’s not until you speak again does he stir back awake from the brink of sleep.
“What did he ask of you? Oda, I mean,” you finally ask, fingers brushing through his dark hair, lulling him further to sleep.
Dazai thinks that you’re cruel, asking him while his mind is still fogged from the exhaustion following his high, and he’s still half asleep in your arms, trying to regain his bearings. The words slip out before he can think twice, forgetting his fear of you laughing at the idea of him trying to be a better man.
“He asked me to be on the side that saves people… if both are the same to me, he wanted me to be a good man.”
The words dawn on him too late; he can hardly bring himself to look up at you, scared that he’s going to find an amused expression on your face or a derisive sneer. He wouldn’t blame you, he’s thought the same about himself ever since he left the Port Mafia, doubt and self-loathing riddling him with every step he takes in the light. He waits for the scoff, he waits for the laugh, he waits for-
“... I think he would be proud of who you’ve become, Osamu. I think you’ve fulfilled his request.”
Dazai does look up at you now, feeling particularly vulnerable, still scared that he might find a mocking expression on your face but he doesn’t. Only an uncharacteristically soft expression is painted on your face as you look up at the ceiling, a genuine one—a small smile and a look in your eyes that makes his heart feel warm. You don’t notice him looking until he lets slip out:
“I’ve missed you so much,” he whispers. 
(I love you, he means)
“I’ve missed you too,” you say back quietly.
(I love you too)
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itgetzweird08 · 3 days
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“You shouldn’t be up this late”
Bakugo’s voice whispered, filling the silence in the dorm kitchen. He was right, and usually you weren’t. You valued your sleep, often being one of the first in the class to call it a night. But tonight was different. Your thoughts, your heart, was restless. Despite following your nighttime routine, which was curated specifically to help you wind down and rest, you still found yourself tossing and turning. Not even your ocean sounds could help you drift to sleep. Thats why when Bakugo spoke, you sighed heavily and let your shoulders droop.
“Yeah. I know.”
He took a few steps toward you, leaning against the countertop. “So what’s got you awake?” You shrugged at him, watching the water in the electric kettle begin to form small bubbles. “Dunno…just can’t sleep I guess.” You looked over to him, taking soft note of his tired eyes and disheveled hair. “And you? You aren’t usually awake at this time either.” He shrugged right back at you. “Dunno…can’t sleep I guess” he echoed your words, and it made you smile just a bit.
You both knew why the other was awake, or at least you both had some inkling. Between how the ambush attack played out and Midoriya running away, neither of you have had time to really process all of what has gone on. You haven’t had time to think about how your lives had been flipped one eighty. But since Midoriya was back safe and sound, and there was no real information on the League or their next move, everything was at a standstill. That meant your brain was finally coming up to speed on what had gone on recently…and it was overwhelming. It felt like your mind was in over drive, thinking so many thoughts at once that it was causing you to lose sleep.
“…There’s a lot of water in this kettle. Would you like some tea?” Bakugo didn’t answer, just walked over to the mug cabinet and grabbed both of your designated mugs. Yours had your hero insignia, and he had his. It was Nezu’s Christmas gift for all of the hero course students. Bakugo opened the tea drawer, grabbing you each a packet of sleepytime zen tea before walking back over to you. You worked in silence then, enjoying each other’s company as you made your own cups.
Your relationship with Bakugo was unique. You admired him, even when he was a bit of an asshole at the beginning of the school year. You’ve enjoyed watching him grow and working beside him as a teammate. You were inspired by his tenacity and drive. You liked how smart and witty he was, and how he could be funny even when he didn’t realize it. It also didn’t hurt that he was actually pretty cute. And all of the same things went for you in his eyes. He admired your kindness and your courage. He was inspired by the way you had such a big heart but you were no push over, standing up to him when he got too rough with his words or during training. In his eyes, it was like you were one of the only people to give him a chance, getting to know him past his rough exterior. You two had gotten closer during the year, training and studying together sometimes. You began to sit next to him for lunch, stealing small pieces of chicken from his plate while he stole beef from yours. You were the only one with that privilege. Eventually, you became this unlabeled, unspoken thing. You didn’t have to confess your feelings because he knew, and you knew how he felt about you even if he’s never admitted it.
You softly sipped your tea, allowing the warm liquid to run down your throat and causing you to sigh. He stirred his own cup, watching the spoon go around and around. Technically, there was nothing else for you two to do in the kitchen. Technically, you could’ve parted ways right here and drank your own cups in your rooms. But you couldn’t bear to leave him. Deep down, you both didn’t want to be alone tonight.
“Bakugo?” He looked up as you said his name. “Could I sleep over in your room tonight? I don’t think I want to be alone”
All he did was scoff, pick up his mug and began walking towards the staircase. When he realized you weren’t following, he scowled and turned to look at you.
“Let’s go brat. I’m missing out on my beauty sleep”
—————
Ps: im starting to do requests! So if you have an idea for me, go ahead and put it in my asks <3
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yogrtshake · 3 days
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coming home ( 7dream ) genre : fluff word count : 0.8k summary : how 7dream return home after a day away from you
( mark ) ⋆ practically melts into you once you spread your arms for a hug in the doorway, whispering how much he missed you into your hair (“i know i said it yesterday, but i’m serious, this time i’m not letting you go”) ⋆ after a quick meal, he settles in bed with you laying by his side and picks up the philosophy book he’s been reading that week ⋆ pokes you every so often to share an excerpt that sparked an idea in his mind, loving the way you comb your fingers through the ends of his hair as he rambles cutely ⋆ tired from his long day, his eyes start to flutter shut and you place his book on the nightstand for him, kissing his temple to wish him sweet dreams
( renjun ) ⋆ the sight of you after a long day always paints a special smile on his face: one that’s infused with adoration and longing, and it makes you melt every time ⋆ finds it precious that you wait until he’s home to unwind from your day with him, both preferring to help remove each other’s makeup and wash your faces side by side ⋆ lots of giggling is shared as he gently tries to lay a sheet mask over your skin and he plants a kiss on your lips once he’s done arranging the mask around your features ⋆ a completed skincare routine means it’s time to wind down together — this consists of soft music and catching up on your days apart, his sparkling, attentive eyes not leaving yours as he listens to every detail
( jeno ) ⋆ takes a bit longer to arrive home because he always stops to pick up takeout dinner for you to share, your favorite weekly tradition ⋆ finds you half asleep and softly hums a greeting, careful not to stir you while he settles back in, then wakes you gently so you can eat together ⋆ sits criss-cross on the floor with you, thoughtfully searching the table for the best looking bite and leaning over to feed it to you ⋆ relishes the comfortable silence between you, occasionally sharing tidbits about your days as you unwind together over your warm meal
( hyuck ) ⋆ kicks off his shoes and tosses his bag on the floor, dramatically explaining how today felt like an even longer day away from you than yesterday, despite his practices being the same length of time ⋆ before you know it, he’s swallowed you in an inescapable hug (“hyuck, i’m suffocating” “no no, we’re not done hugging yet”) ⋆ tells you a funny anecdote from practice, the sound of your laughter refilling his lungs that had exhausted throughout the day ⋆ soon enough grows sleepy and insists you lay down with him, pulling you closer every time he feels you shift until you doze off together
( jaemin ) ⋆ the second he walks in, he’s pressing kisses to your cheeks, your nose, your lips, your forehead — everywhere, over and over again, to make up for what he’d missed over the past several hours he was at work ⋆ pulls away only to grasp your hands in his and ask what you’ve eaten today, if you got your errands done, and what’s planned for the two of you tonight — it goes without saying the rest of your evening will be spent together ⋆ requests more kisses from you between every step of his nighttime routine, not bearing to spend another second without your touch he’s missed all day ⋆ after some quality time together, you notice he's drifted off to sleep with his arms draped around your waist, and when you kiss the top of his head, you can almost see a smile form on his lips
( chenle ) ⋆ almost as though he never left your presence, you received a lot of texts and random photos throughout the day while he was working ⋆ scolds you playfully for having missed answering one when he returns home (”but le, i replied to all of them at once—” “i wanted INDIVIDUAL REPLIES!”) ⋆ quickly forgives you, of course, pecking your cheek before changing into lounge clothes and making his way to your familiar spot on the couch to watch a drama with you ⋆ after a few minutes you feel that his shoulders are no longer tensed and his head rests on your shoulder, and you smile knowing he feels relaxed with you
( jisung ) ⋆ files into your bedroom after his long evening at the studio, appearing a bit more tired than usual, and immediately falls into your lap ⋆ you toy with his hair as you let him vent about the latest routine he’s given his all to, praising him for working hard and watching his eyes slowly start to brighten ⋆ he cherishes how you give him the space to talk about even the littlest details of his frustrations while comforting him with your touch ⋆ wordlessly insists you spend the remainder of the night in each other’s arms, him shyly dotting your hands with kisses to show his appreciation until his eyes close
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joelslastofus · 3 days
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[SUMMARY: Joel and you have a close friendship until Sarah’s mother returns and he rudely pushes you away. He never knew you were in love with him or that he himself was in love with you until Tommy wants to date you.]
Angst jealous Joel, mention of blood
“Joel can you pass the butter” Sarah’s mother could be heard in the background as Tommy and you were still sharing a small moment. Joel hadn’t taken his eyes off you not realizing that he was being called.
For a few years now you had grown to be a close friend to Joel and especially close to Sarah. Joel didn’t date much as he was strict on not bringing just any woman around his daughter. The two of you got close with you being his neighbor and you helping Sarah with things her father needed a woman’s help in. Sarah always teased her father about dating you, yet you having a bigger age difference than he was used to made him hesitate. Through it all Joel never suspected the feelings you had for him. Things always seemed good between all of you, that was until Sarah’s mother suddenly made a return.
There was an obvious difference since her mother had returned, you realized you hadn’t been seeing Joel or Sarah as much as you used to. The thought hurt you as he never knew the strong feelings you had for him yet you never found the courage to knock on his door like you used to.
That afternoon you caught Sarah coming out of the house and quickly called out for her to wait for you. Rushing back inside you bought out pastries you baked, pastries you knew Joel loved.
“Hey, I made these for you guys”
“Oh I haven’t had these in forever, you’re the best” she reached in for a hug.
“You should come over tonight, we’re having our usual movie night..”
“Oh, haven’t had one of those in a while. I’ll bring the popcorn” you smiled as she grinned when you were both interrupted by her mother.
“Sarah, let’s go!” The sound of her mother’s voice made you look up to find her in the passenger seat of Joel’s truck, you never realized she was there. She was a fairly attractive woman, you could see what Joel saw on her as hard as it was to admit.
She didn’t acknowledge you and so you didn’t say a thing to her but you noticed Sarah’s expression change.
“That’s my mom…I’ll see you around…” she walked away just as you heard the door behind you open, Joel stepped out.
“Joel” you stood as he greeted you with a smile.
“It’s been a while” his eyes wandered over your features.
“Yeah, it has been huh” you nodded as he smiled at you. Joel missed having you around, he missed your company but he knew how Sarah’s mother would feel and so he tried to keep his distance. The only reason he seemed to be working on things with Sarah’s mother was because he thought it was what his daughter deserved…her parents together, not knowing her true feelings towards her mother.
“Well any ways, I left Sarah with those pastries you guys always love. Hope it’s enough for all three of you. Sarah just invited me tonight, so I guess we’ll catch up later?” Joel’s expression changed to something you couldn’t quite understand but he nodded before her mother called out once again.
“Joel hurry up!” She yelled from the car honking the horn.
“Yeah, I’ll see you tonight. Thank you, darlin’” Joel got in his truck immediately sensing an attitude from Sarah’s mother.
“What was that girl on about?”
“She baked us some dessert and-“
“I invited her to movie night tonight!” Sarah exclaimed.
“Excuse me?” Her mother turned to her.
“Y/n usually joins us for family night” Joel attempted to explain.
“She’s not family” Joel looked back at her not liking her tone.
“She’s been like family to us” he tried to explain but she wasn’t having it.
“Well she’s not, so tonight it’s just gonna be us three. Got it?” She turned looking out the window as Joel looked at the rear view mirror and could see Sarah’s disappointment.
After dropping Sarah off at her friends, Joel felt it was the perfect time to have a bigger conversation about Sarah’s relationship with you.
“Listen, about y/n…you gotta understand she’s been there for Sarah for a long time now,-“
“So, it’s not like she’s her mother”
“Dammit, I know that but to Sarah she’s been everything” Sarah’s mother crossed her arms looking ahead.
“Well Sarah better get rid of any attachment to that girl, she’s nothing to anyone.”
“That woman has done more for her than I could say” Joel pushed the argument.
“Joel, I said it’s done. I’m her mother, not her nor anyone else and Sarah just needs to understand her place. She’s the child and has no say-“
“I haven’t raised her that way-“
“Well things change. Besides, that girl shouldn’t be so close to Sarah. It’s not good for our daughter, she’s getting attached to someone that won’t always be around. I think you should cut it” Joel narrowed his eyes on her.
“You do it or I will. You want Sarah to get her heart broken when that woman has her own children and forgets about her?” Joel looked away continuing to drive knowing she had a point not knowing more than anything she wanted access to all Joel had. Since she had last seen him, he was successful with his own home and money that she wanted a part of.
“Unless you don’t care about your daughter’s feelings, keep her around but if you do care for Sarah then do what’s right” she manipulated him using the biggest thing she had against him.
Sarah.
“I’ll talk to her tonight”
That evening after work you took a fresh shower getting ready for movie night. Apart of you was anxious knowing you’d officially meet the woman who was now having something with the man you had been secretly in love with for so long. Brushing your hair humming to yourself you unexpectedly heard your doorbell. You could see Joel through the side window making you raise a brow.
“Hey? Everything ok?” You asked as you opened the door. Usually greeting you with a smile, Joel was now serious.
“Joel?”
“Listen um, there ain’t no movie night tonight”
“Ok” you chuckled a bit confused as to why he showed up at your door to simply express that plans were cancelled. It was strange, he could barely look you in the eye.
“Look, this ain’t easy for me to say…but Sarah’s mother is back, Ima need you to give Sarah some space.” As much as what he said hurt, you kept a straight face.
“Of course,” you whispered.
“I wouldn’t get in the way of that. Sarah is welcome to come by whenever, on her time” Joel brushed his hand over his lips, a little frustrated that you weren’t getting the message and he would need to be more blunt.
“Sarah won’t be comin’ by no more” for a moment you stood silent.
“Oh I-“
“Sarah don’t need to be talkin’ to you no more. Her mother is here and it just ain’t needed” he blurt out. Joel didn’t like saying this to you, yet he knew the only way to keep you away was to be as blunt as possible.
Where the hell was this coming from?
“Joel I…I know her mom is back in the picture, I never was trying to take her place. I only help-“
“Well don’t” he spoke coldly leaving you speechless. After a few years of being so close you saw a side to him you never thought you would see. Feeling tears well up in your eyes, a knot in your throat you cleared your voice.
“Does Sarah know?”
“It don’t matter, she’ll understand” Joel almost sounded as if he was trying to convince himself that his daughter would get over this.
“Am I clear?” For the first time his eyes looked into yours and he noticed you struggling not to cry. The guilt he felt in his chest from the way you looked at him, he couldn’t take but he had to be stern. He preferred him saying what needed to be said than Sarah’s mother disrespecting you.
“Loud and clear” you whispered before closing the door in face and walking away.
Joel stood still for a minute wondering for a just a second if what he was doing was right. The thought of you forgetting about Sarah in the future like her mother said came to his mind again, it was true what she expressed..at the end of the day you were nothing to Sarah and eventually you would have your own life..
Joel walking back to the house ran into Tommy walking through the door.
“Hey ain’t y/n coming tonight?”
Joel shook his head.
“Why not? Sarah loves doing trivia with her after the movie?” Tommy secretly asking because he wanted you around too.
“I put an end to it Tommy” Joel spoke without looking his way.
“Put an end to what? Her being there for Sarah? What are ya doin’ man?” He shoved his shoulder, Joel knew he was never a fan of Sarah’s mother.
“It’s for Sarah’s own good, I know what I’m doin’” Joel walked ahead not wanting to speak anymore of it.
About two months later Sarah’s mother was making breakfast when she found two pink flower cooking mittens and frowned.
“Sarah, you help your father cook huh?” She laughed until Sarah shook her head.
“Those were y/n’s she comes over sometimes and would cook for us, I wonder why she hasn’t come by” Her words instantly wiping the smile from her face. The second Sarah turned she grabbed the mitts and threw them in the trash. Joel running down the steps noticing he was running late for work practically heading straight for the door.
“Joel I made breakfast!” She yelled out as he grabbed his bag.
“Don’t have time, ya got Sarah today? I’m running late, gotta go with Tommy” her mother rolled her eyes throwing the spatula in the sink.
“I guess so” Joel too much in a rush didn’t notice the tone in her voice, giving Sarah a kiss on the head he rushed out.
Joel running out happened to see Tommy talking to you at the end of the drive way. He thought it was strange as he furrowed his brows but didn’t say a word.
Starting the truck Joel watched the two of you talking through his rear view mirror. Looking at his brothers face he knew that damn look, his brother was flirting with you. Joel suddenly honked his horn twice making you and Tommy look up.
“I’ll call you later” he winked at you before kissing your cheek and getting to the truck.
Joel looked behind as he backed his truck out of the driveway, his eyes taking a peak at you leaving for the day before he turned to his brother.
“What was that about?”
“Oh uh, nothin’ I uh, I…I kinda asked her out” he cleared his throat anxiously.
“You asked her out?” Joel looked at his brother taken back by his statement.
“Yeah, I mean…you don’t mind do ya? Nothin’ ever happened between you two so just figured I’d shoot my shot” he grinned as Joel began to drive.
“That alright?” He asked looking over at his brother waiting for some kind of approval.
Joel clenched his jaw staring ahead.
“Why would I care” Joel stated with a shrug. Tommy looked away sensing something clearly bothered him but didn’t say a word.
Joel spent his day at work not saying much to his brother, Tommy could sense the coldness from him as the day went on.
“Joel where’s the-“
“God dammit Tommy, you got the wrong damn piece” Tommy looked down confused.
“Just move, I got it” he shoved his brother to the side and began to work as Tommy stepped back.
“Joel-“
“I got it” he uttered low before his brother walked off angrily. Joel himself was trying to understand what exactly he was feeling. The anger that slowly built up inside him the more he thought about you dating Tommy, yet he himself couldn’t even understand why.
During the ride home the two men were silent. Tension brewing between them as Tommy adjusted himself in his seat.
“I invited y/n over this weekend for dinner” Joel’s hand tightening on the steering wheel, he didn’t say a word for a moment.
“Sarah’s mother ain’t gonna like it-“
“Well Sarah’s mother don’t live there, I do” Tommy defended himself. Joel remained quiet before arriving to the house and walking inside.
That evening Tommy had convinced you to come over for dinner. You hesitated after what was last said between you and Joel but Tommy insisted.
“It’s my home just as much as it’s his” Tommy defended himself, yet it still didn’t feel right. Feelings for Joel didn’t simply vanish but they did become easier to deal with, easier to ignore making you believe there were none at all…although that was far from the truth.
“Y/n is coming over this weekend” Tommy patted Sarah’s shoulder as she grinned with excitement.
“I beg your pardon” Sarah’s mother turned with a clear look of disapproval.
“She’s coming over for dinner” Tommy stood up straight facing her directly.
“I don’t think so, Joel already knows-“
“She’s gonna come over, that’s the end of it” Joel suddenly interrupted as he began to set the table.
“Yes!” Sarah exclaimed.
“Didn’t I say-“
“Sarah go to your room, honey” without questioning a thing she quickly stood up and took her book with her to the room.
“Joel, you can’t be serious”
“She’s comin’ to be with me” Tommy interjected, his words like alcohol on a wound for Joel yet it seemed to calm Sarah’s mother down.
“Oh, well in that case, have fun” she shrugged thinking if Tommy kept you busy she wouldn’t have to worry about you. A part of her had been suspecting if Joel had feelings for you since you two had last spoken. Without Joel knowing sometimes she would watch him through the window and catch him looking over at you house almost as if he was waiting for you to come out.
The evening arrived and you could feel the butterflies in your stomach for more reasons than one. That day you decided to put a touch of make up and wear your hair loose, something different for a change.
Tommy opened the door with a big grin as he let you inside. He could see the nerves in your eyes and subtly leaned in against you.
“Relax, you’re good here” he led you into the dining room where Joel and Sarah’s mother were. Joel with his back to you could hear when you walked in.
“Nice to finally meet you” Sarah’s mother greeted you with a hug, you could tell wasn’t genuine.
“Nice to meet you too” you smiled as Joel turned to you. He had never really seen you with your hair loose, the color of your hair framing your face bringing out your eyes.
“Hi Joel” Sarah’s mother noticing your hesitation just as Joel leaned in to greet you. His hand delicately on your waist as you felt his lips on your cheek.
“Good to see ya” he stood back with a nod as you awkwardly looked down.
“Well, let’s set the table for the ladies. You can go sit in the living room and get to know Sarah’s mom, Sarah will be out in a bit” Tommy placed his hand around your waist making Joel’s eyes follow.
“Joel?” Tommy cleared his throat making him quickly look up.
“Yeah, we’ll set up the table. You ladies go on” Joel quickly turned his back as Sarah’s mother guided you to the living room away from the men.
Tommy could already see his brother was uncomfortable, but not for the reasons he thought.
“Look, I’m sorry if her being around is makin’ you feel a kind of way. I know y’all didn’t have the best last conversation with how you spoke to her-“
“She told you, huh” Joel responded with a sarcastic tone as he laid the table mats and plates down.
“Yeah, she did” Tommy now sounding a bit more defensive.
“You gonna help me or what?” Joel uttered low before Tommy sighed and began to help. There was never going anywhere with Joel when it came to expressing feelings properly, the man was as stubborn as a steel wall.
After talking with Sarah and her mother for a bit, you grew to understand more as to why her and her mother didn’t exactly click. Yet, it still wasn’t as awkward as you thought it would be with her yet with Joel it was a different story.
Once dinner was ready you stood beside Tommy as he pulled out your chair for you.
“Thank you, Tommy” you smiled as you sat down, feeling Joel’s eyes on you from the head of the table. Joel wasn’t the only one staring, Sarah herself was confused to see you with her uncle, she always expected you to be with her father. Joel noticed Sarah staring at you and cleared his throat to get her attention.
“Sarah, mind your manners” she quickly looked away before leaning close to him.
“You’re staring too, dad” she whispered playfully. Sarah’s mother sat down not noticing the stare down the two were giving you as they quickly looked away.
“So how long have you two been dating?” Sarah’s mother unexpectedly broke the silence.
“About a couple weeks now” Tommy responded.
“Couple weeks huh?” Joel looked up at his brother with a raised brow.
“Yes” he responded confidently.
“I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner since she’s been around here for a while from what I heard” Sarahs mother stated with a light laugh.
“Why didn’t it?” The slick tone in Joels voice, he couldn’t hide how he felt about it as much as he tried to.
“Why didn’t what?” Tommy asked sitting up straight in his chair noticing his brother’s tone of voice.
“Why didn’t you get together sooner?” Joel asked as he put a piece of food in his mouth, his eyes narrowing on Tommy.
“I guess the time just wasn’t right then, brother” the two men silently stared at each other for a moment before you cleared your throat.
“Well, I’m glad it happened when it did” you spoke softly but you could feel Joel’s harsh stare now turn to you. Sarah’s mother silently watched the way Joel stared at you and Tommy, raising a brow at him she wondered why he seemed so bothered by you two.
“Me too, babe” Tommy leaned in for a quick peck causing Joel to tense up.
“Joel can you pass the butter” Sarah’s mother could be heard in the background as Tommy and you were still sharing a small moment. Joel hadn’t taken his eyes off you not realizing that he was being called.
“Joel” yet he continued watching the way you smiled at Tommy, the look in your eyes as he spoke to you.
“Dad” the sound of Sarah’s voice snapping him right out of it. He looked over at her before noticing Sarah’s mother staring at him.
“Huh, what is it?”
“I was asking you to pass the butter” she raised a brow at him. Silently he passed the dish to her before adjusting himself in his seat and continuing to eat.
“Well anyways, I think it’s sweet that you two are together” Sarah’s mother continued.
“I didn’t see it coming, we’ve known each other for so long” you responded.
“I sure as hell didn’t see it comin’” Joel mumbled under his breath as he stabbed a piece of meatloaf hard with his fork.
“What was that Joel?” Tommy squinted his eyes at him.
“I said I didn’t see that comin’, come to think of it” Joel chuckled sarcastically.
“Almost seems like it was a secret”
Tommy knew you were beginning to feel uncomfortable as you wouldn’t look up from your plate.
“Wasn’t no secret, didn’t know I had to report who I was datin’” you suddenly gasped as Sarah’s mother accidentally knocked a glass of water your way. You quickly stood up as water spilled onto your skirt.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Her mother stood up with you but Sarah could sense something was off. She felt her mother had done it on purpose and she wasn’t wrong. Her mother growing angry at the sight of Joel being bothered by anything having to do with you and Tommy upset her and she tried to distract the situation.
“It’s alright, babe, I got cha” Tommy proceeded to grab a cloth and attempt to dry off your clothes. His hands passing along over your thighs as Joel watched silently before he abruptly stood up and walked to the kitchen.
“Where are you going, Joel?” Sarah’s mother called out to him.
“I’m grabbin’ another beer” he yelled back.
“I think I should go” you whispered to Tommy.
“Please” you continued, he could see the discomfort in your eyes and quietly nodded.
“I’m gonna take y/n home-“
“Dinner was delicious” you tried to seem as polite as you could. Tommy grabbed your stuff for you and took your hand before Joel called out to him.
“Don’t take too long now, ima need a hand with a few things” Tommy looked back at him annoyed before walking out with you. Joel didn’t need help with anything, just the thought of him going to your house alone with you he couldn’t take. Sarah watched as her mother angrily got up from the table and stomped to the kitchen.
“What the hell has been your problem today?”
“Nothins’ my problem at all” he spoke with a touch of sarcasm.
“You just can’t stand seeing your brother with that girl” Joel tried to hide a reaction as he took a sip of his beer.
“Why the hell would I care what that girl does?”
“I don’t know Joel, you tell me” she angrily walked away to the room before slamming the door shut.
Standing at your front door you sighed turning to Tommy.
“Maybe it’s just best I’m not around them much.” Tommy quickly shook his head.
“No, ya didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t care how that woman feels about there-“
“Or Joel” you interrupted.
“He hated having me there today” you continued. Little did you know, Joel didn’t hate having you there, he hated seeing you with his brother.
“Don’t worry about Joel, I’ll have a talk with him when I get back”
“It doesn’t matter”
“It does. That’s not the last time you’re coming around so don’t think it is. I’ll see you tomorrow” Tommy kissed you before returning back home.
Once coming back in he found Joel cleaning up by himself and scoffed.
“So what’s your issue brother, might as well lay it out for me”
Joel didn’t turn back to him, how could he admit to his brother the seething jealousy he felt. How could he tell his brother the thought of him touching you, kissing you only enraged him.
“Ain’t no issue, Tommy” he denied as he put left overs in the fridge.
“Well I feel like there’s an issue and so does y/n” the sound of your name making him face Tommy.
“I’m tellin’ you there ain’t”
Tommy didn’t say a word but he didn’t believe his brother and angrily went to his room.
The next day once again Joel found Tommy talking you on your front porch as he got ready to take Sarah to school. Squinting from the sun he kept looking over watching the way Tommy wrapped his arms around you, kissing you until Sarah came out.
“You ok, dad?”
“Course I am” he responded before walking to the front of the car. Sarah looked over and noticed what he was staring and it all made sense.
During the drive to school Sarah couldn’t help but question her dad about you, catching him off guard.
“Hey dad, why did y/n stop coming over?”
Joel swallowed hard as he adjusted himself in his seat, he knew he had to be honest.
“Your mother ain’t really like how close you two were”
“Does mom know you have feelings for her?” Joel abruptly looked at Sarah at a red light.
“I don’t have feelings for her, who said that?”
“Your eyes” Sarah smiled as her father remained silent knowing he couldn’t lie to his daughter.
“Ya know, you’re too damn smart sometimes, it scares me” he chuckled under his breath as he continued to drive.
“So you do have feelings for her. Why didn’t you tell her?”
“Enough about her, she’s with uncle Tommy and that’s that”
“But I think she had feelings for you to-“
“Sarah enough” his stern voice causing her to look away just as he pulled up to her school.
“Baby girl I know you’re just lookin’ out for me but your mother-“
“I don’t like my mother” Sarah blurt out shocking Joel.
“I’ll see you later” getting out of the car Joel watched as she walked off. Sarah’s mother being manipulative and controlling was something that always made Joel and her clash and now it was something Sarah was seeing and he didn’t like it.
Joel and Tommy took their own rides to work not wanting to speak to each other, he had no idea Tommy had planned for you to come over again. Tommy refused to let them get their way and insisted on having you over again.
That night Tommy bought dinner for everyone and kept himself in a good mood. Yoh hadn’t spoken much to Joel, if anything you avoided him as much as possible. You sat next to Tommy enjoying the food as Sarah spoke to you about a new project she was working on.
“You didn’t tell me about that, honey” her mother interrupted.
“Y/n usually helps me with my projects so I wanted to tell her” Sarah responded dryly. Her mother looking a bit insulted remained silent, your presence clearly starting to eat at her.
“Well unfortunately I can’t stay the night” she stood up from the table throwing a cloth to the side.
“I have some work obligations to finish”
“That’s a shame, hopefully next time you can stay longer” you spoke nicely as she responded with a masked smile and nod.
“Joel? Can you walk me to the door”
“Right” he cleared his throat as he stood up.
Sarah’s mother didn’t say much but she didn’t like the idea of leaving.
Joel walked back to the dining room watching as you laughed at something Tommy had said. Your hand on his arm as you shook your head before Joel realized Sarah was staring at him. Sarah could see right through her father, she knew his feelings for you were deep.
“How about we have some wine” Tommy suddenly suggested as Joel sat at the table.
“Um, I’ll get it” you quickly stood up not wanting to be left alone with Joel.
“Oh you’re not afraid to go to the basement” Tommy teased making you playfully roll your eyes. You knew where the wine was, it wasn’t the first time you had wine with the Millers.
Joel watched as you made your way downstairs as Tommy and Sarah began clearing the table.
You stood in the basement quietly reading each bottle to yourself trying to decide which one you wanted when the lights suddenly went out.
“Tommy?!” You called out from the bottom of the stairs.
“Um the lights went out!” You yelled just as Tommy had his hands full with plates and cups.
“Shit” he whispered quickly looking over at Joel who stood up.
“I got it”
“Don’t be a dick” Tommy whispered as Joel made his way to the basement door.
Patiently waiting for Tommy to come downstairs, you heard what you thought was his footsteps and sighed in relief.
“Thank God, it’s creepy enough down here with lights let alone without any” you laughed waiting for him to reset the breakers. Once he did the lights went back on and that’s when you noticed who it was.
Joel stood a few feet away from you, his eyes on you before you quickly looked away.
“I thought you were Tommy”
“Sorry to disappoint you” he spoke low. Biting his lip he didn’t move from where he stood, having so much to say but not knowing where to start. This was the first time you were alone with him since that dreadful conversation you had with him at your front door and you didn’t know what to say. Still very hurt by things that were said you avoided conversation with him and quickly picked out a bottle and walked past him.
“I’m sorry” he uttered just as you reached the first step. You froze in silence but you didn’t turn back.
“I didn’t mean to hurt ya, I hope you can understand” you scoffed shaking your head. How were you suppose to be understanding to his sudden coldness?
“Doesn’t really matter now, does it” you responded before making your way up the stairs. Joel looked down just as you turned the door knob when you realized it was locked.
“Shit” you whispered to yourself, of course you had forgotten to hit the switch on the knob when you first came down to make sure it would stay unlocked. Joel looked up noticing you were having trouble opening the door and made his way up the stairs.
“What’s the matter?”
“I left the damn switch locked” you pulled at the handle as Joel chuckled crossing his arms.
“That ain’t gonna open it, darlin’”
“Tommy!” You slammed your hands on the door just wanting to get the hell out of there.
“Damn it” you whispered brushing your hand through your hair before taking a step back.
Joel noticed how anxious you became, just as he was about to speak when Tommy was heard on the other end.
“What’s the matter baby?”
“I left the switch locked by accident” you explained, you heard him fumbling with the door knob before he began to pull at it.
“Shit, the lock is jammed” Tommy could be heard saying making you sigh as Joel looked up.
“Hold on, let me get the tools from the truck to try and pry this door open” Tommy called out to you both. Rolling your eyes you made your way down the stairs as Joel followed. Your heart racing hearing him so close behind, the last thing you wanted was to stay alone with him.
“You alright?” Joel asked watching you pace back and forth.
“Yes” you lied.
“You forget I’ve know you for sometime-“
“Joel, stop. Just cause we’re locked in here doesn’t mean we have to talk-“ you suddenly gasped feeling a sharp jab to your hip. Joel instantly becoming concerned at the sight of blood on your hand. A nail sticking out of the wall had pinched you deep enough where your blood dripped onto the floor.
“Great” Joel quickly made his way to you and took a look. Not expecting him to have been so close you froze as he furrowed his brows getting a closer look at your wound.
“It’s fine, just a scratch”
“That ain’t just a scratch” Joel grabbed the first aid kit behind him and opened it on the table beside him.
“Oh no, I’m fine Joel I don’t need-“
“Pull up your shirt”
“Joel-“
“Pull it up” his eyes narrowed down on yours making you give in. Lifting it up you could see the damage much better and shook your head.
“This would happen to me” you watched as he grabbed a bottle of alcohol and immediately began to panic, you always hated applying alcohol on a wound.
“Isn’t there something else in there you can use?”
“No” he drenched a cotton ball with the liquid.
“I um-I don’t wanna use that”
“Well you’re gonna have to, unless ya want an infection” he responded casually.
“I really don’t like using alcohol on a wound, I don’t care if it makes me sound like a baby I can’t stand the feeling, I don’t wanna use it” he realized you were truly panicking about it as he looked up at you.
“Darlin’, that was a rusty nail that cut through you, pretty deep. I suggest ya let me do this to prevent an infection, it’ll be over before ya know it” you looked silently down at the cotton ball in his hand and sighed.
“On a count of three” he continued as you nodded and closed your eyes.
“1…2-“ unexpectedly Joel pressed the drenched cotton ball against your wound making you gasp and grab onto him. The intense stinging you felt, you hadn’t realized your hands were on his shoulders.
“You said on three!” You looked down at his hand still on your wound.
“Ok…that’s not that bad…” you took a deep breath as the stinging subsided before turning to Joel realizing his eyes had been locked on you. That’s when you noticed your hands on his shoulders and quickly pulled them away before Tommy’s voice distracted you both.
“I think I left the tool bag at the job today, I’m gonna ask our neighbor if he has something for now” Tommy called through the door.
“You go on, let Sarah know what’s goin’ on” Joel yelled back.
“Yeah, of course. You two alright?” Tommy asked a bit concerned.
“Yes, Im fine but I just cut myself on a nail-“
“Cut yourself?”
“She’s fine Tommy, I got her” Joel quickly interrupted. His eyes turning back to you as he spoke. How he wished he had you.
“Thanks, Joel. I’ll be right back”
Joel proceeded to grab tape and patch up your small wound to stop it from bleeding. Once he was done, he lowered your shirt and looked up at you.
“All done”
“Thank you” you whispered as you awkwardly looked away. The silence was loud, it was obvious there was a lot that was unsaid. Joel silently packing up the first aid kit when he broke the silence with an unexpected question.
“Do ya love him?” He blurt out making you look up at him.
“What?” You chuckled anxiously.
“You heard me” he looked directly into your eyes.
“Do ya love him?”
“Why do you care? That’s none of your business, just like you loving Sarah’s mother is none of mine-“
“I don’t” his response wasn’t one you expected. Joel was losing his patience, his jealousy eating at him, dying to know just how deep you two really were.
“Well that’s you” you stubbornly responded.
“You slept with him?” his question making your eyes widen but Joel almost seemed as if he was in a trance, focused on getting his answers.
“I beg your pardon?! You don’t get to ask me any of this, it’s none of your business” angrily you wanted to walk off but there was nowhere to go and he took advantage of that.
“How long have you been together for real? Cause from what it seems like to me-“
“Who the hell are you to say any of this?! We don’t need you permission to be together and you lost your chance to even know anything of me the day you threw me to the side like I never meant anything to your family-“
“I told you I was sorry, I know ya didn’t deserve that” He raised his voice loudly.
“Well sorry isn’t enough for you to think I’m suppose to act like nothing. I can’t believe you’re asking me any of this, as if you have a say”
“You wanna know why I’m asking you all of this?!” He stepped towards you making you take a step back.
“You wanna know why, sweetheart?” Too nervous to respond you swallowed hard and looked away feeling intimated by him.
“Because I love you.” Your heart stopped.
Joel had said something you never thought he would say, something you never even knew he felt.
“I fucking love you and I was too damn stupid to realize it before” yet for some reason you didn’t feel right hearing this. He threw you to the side after how much you had been there for him only to realize he was in love when his brother made a move.
This was an ego trip, at least it’s what it felt like.
“So now you realize you’ve been in love with the woman who’s been there for you, after you trashed her and found out your brother is fucking her?” You purposely lied using those words to hurt him, you and Tommy were never intimate as of yet still you wanted him to feel the hurt you felt and he did. His nostrils flared as his jaw tensed, his eyes directly looking into your cold ones. The thought of you sleeping with Tommy making him feel an anger he didn’t know he could ever feel. Still, he didn’t say a word, never breaking eye contact until Tommy appeared on the other side of the door.
“Ok guys, this should work” Joel turned away from you, walking angrily to the other side as his hands balled into tight fists when Tommy finally got the door opened.
“Finally” you whispered to see Tommy looking down at both of you.
“Hope I didn’t take too long” he called out to you both as you slowly made your way up the stairs holding your hip.
“Let me see this, you alright?” Joel heard his brother attend to you only pissing him off more. Tommy hugged you gently before leading you to the living room where you sat silently. You wanted to hurt Joel for what he made you feel before but little did he know you only conflicted yourself. Watching Tommy as he made sure you were comfortable, you felt guilty knowing after all this time you were still in love with Joel…
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kenntolog · 23 hours
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𝝑𝝔 an: i don’t really like this much :( im feeling so sick ngl reader is me i am reader, just need me a boyfie like sukuna here :((( anyways, i posted this because i felt the pressure to do it sk bare with me please!! i love you all <33 read more about cool bf sukuna x loser gf reader here!!
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so you’ve been silent through the whole day, which has been bothering sukuna whenever he was reminded of it. nervously checking his phone at practice every chance he got, which got his teammates interested in whatever the hell happened that got him so invested in his phone(only toji tbh). his mind being focused on you instead of the upcoming game which reflected greatly on his practice and made everyone worried.
sukuna just waved them off and continued calling you with no results and texting you, which also got him nowhere. so of course, he decided to check on you after being done with university.
no one answers your door, radio silence, which leads sukuna to taking out the poorly hidden spare keys from under the fake plant and going in, still uninvited but determined to find you. he calls your name a few times, walking around the rooms with a frown on his face. the sight that greets him when he enters your room is even more confusing than your silence throughout the day.
a big pile of blankets on your bed. the longer he stares at it the clearer he can see the faint movement of it — slowly up and slowly down, up and down. he approaches it, looking over only to find a tuft of your hair peeking out from under it.
“what the hell..?” he mutters under his nose while his hands tug down the blanket to reveal your face.
even in your sleep you manage to frown and you only do that when you’re not feeling well, so sukuna leans in closer, sensing the heat radiating from you, and touches your forehead with his lips, eyes widening at how hot you feel. “the fuck happened to you?”
you blink sleepily before opening your eyes and looking up at him for a few seconds. sukuna sits down by your side, hands caressing your face gently as he inspects your condition quickly, “what’s up, loser?”
you say his name, yet he can barely hear it before you start coughing and turn away from him. he can see your face scrunch in pain; his heart squeezes in his chest when you lie back and this time your lips wobble slightly as you mouth his name, barely audible, “‘kuna~ think ‘m sick~”
“yea, no shit.” he rolls his eyes with no real annoyance in them. “let’s make you feel better, yeah, baby?”
you nuzzle into his palm and he smiles gently at you… until you unintentionally sneeze right into it, leaving slimy boogers and gross spit, and sukuna’s eye twitches as he tries to contain his curses.
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of course, first thing sukuna does — calls his older brother jin, because the former doesn’t even remember the last time he got sick and jin always knows what to do, especially in a situation like this since little yuuji hasn’t developed the best immune system yet.
“are you sure you can take care of her properly?” jin asks worriedly from the other end of the line, causing sukuna to roll his eyes.
“have some faith in me, will you?” jin only sighs, barely listening to him as he writes down the list of various medicine and things he must buy to make you feel better. yet, he still catches his younger brother’s almost incoherent mumbling. “i can take care of her like no other.”
“then do just that.”
sukuna hums and presses end call, continuing to look through your kitchen cabinet full of different medicines in hopes of finding whatever the hell jin sent him.
you’re not a very obedient person when you’re sick though, he notices. sukuna can tell you’re still a bit hazed from the high body temperature and trying to sleep it off without any care, yet the sickness makes you more stubborn than ever.
and he can’t find it in himself to push you around when your body is hurting and muscles are sore from spasming in an attempt to warm up. so he just lets you sit on the chair in the kitchen, wrapped tightly in your blanket, dazedly watching him make you some soup.
he feeds you the soup himself, too, agreeing a little begrudgingly of course. you whine a bit with that pitiful broken voice of yours and he just gives in because your eyes are watery and your lips wobble, and he is just a weak man around you. don’t judge him!
sukuna is so caring, though, it makes you fall in love with him all over again. he’s a bit clumsy when it comes to cooking you stuff and making you curing beverages; rough around his the edges about his timing and maybe a little too annoyed with your childish antics, yet never showing it directly like he usually does.
watching your favourite movies and shows with you, when he’d usually just shit on your taste and choose something of his own(which you also eventually like, but nonetheless get angry at him). getting invested in them too — just so he can entertain you afterwards and take your mind off of your ill state.
not commenting on your messy state; sweaty hair sticking to your forehead, complains about cold when changing your equally sweaty shirts to clean ones, whines about the tea being too hot or the syrup being too gross(okay, that one kinda angers him he just shoves the spoon in your mouth to make you drink it since you wouldn’t do it yourself).
he also sleeps with you later that night, ignoring your warnings about him getting sick too :(( holds you tight, shares his body heat and wakes up every now and then to check if you’ve sweated any more.
needless to say, you feel a lot better the next morning!! all thanks to sukuna.
(also he gets sick a day after, but don’t ask about that pls heh).
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planetaryupscaled · 2 days
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Honeymoon 2: Afterday
Male Reader x Yunjin x Somi
Tags: 6k, anal, creampie, food play, gxg, oral, threesome
The story is not ours; we simply alter the original story to our preferred settings
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I laid in bed with thoughts of the previous night dancing in my head. The image of Somi’s face screaming out in bliss as she came played on repeat in my mind. I was in a very peaceful and erotic sleep when all of a sudden, I was awoken by the feeling of someone jumping on top of me.
“Babe, wake up!” I heard Yunjin yell. I slowly opened my eyes to see a smiling Yunjin looking down on me. “Morning!”
“What time is it?” I asked still groggy and tired from the previous day.
“Just after eleven. You missed breakfast.” Yunjin stayed straddling my lap over the sheets. She was dressed in just a pair of loose shorts and a tank top.
“Sorry about that, hope you didn’t mind eating alone,” I told her as I closed my eyes and rubbed my hand back and forth along her bare leg.
“I wasn’t alone, I ran into Somi down there and ate with her.” That snapped me out of my morning haze.
“Somi?”
“Yeah, I saw here entering the dining area when I was at the omelet bar, so we sat together. She was telling me about this secret nude beach the hotel has up the road. I told her we’d go with her today.” I tried to hide the mini panic attack I was having at this news. I had no clue what Somi was up to. Did she just enjoying toying with me in front of Yunjin, or was she out to destroy my relationship? I didn’t know how I’d be able to control myself around Somi at a nude beach since in the last 24 hours she’d already gotten me to cheat on my new wife twice.
“Really? I was thinking we could just relax in the room today. You know, take a bath together in the tub. Maybe do that thing we were walking about with the whipped cream and chocolate sauce,” I then moved her off me. “Though first I think maybe we should do something about this.” I lifted off the sheet and exposed my dick to the sunlight.
“Maybe I should leave you two alone to take care of that,” another woman said, “Unless you want some help.” Looking to the doorway, there was Somi leaning against the doorframe smiling while looking at me and Yunjin on the bed. She was dressed in a bikini top, a sarong, and flip flops.
“Oh shit!” I said in surprise and quickly pulled the bed sheet back up to hide my nakedness.
“Yeah, I probably should have mentioned that I invited her up with me,” Yunjin laughed at my shock.
“It’s not that big a deal Minho, I was going to see it anyway at the nude beach,” Somi chuckled and gave me a wicked grin. “How about I just meet you guys downstairs in an hour?”
“Sounds good,” Yunjin agreed.
“Okay. Bye, Minho. Or should I say, big dick Minho.” Somi giggled before turning and leaving.
“I think she likes you,” Yunjin said before leaning down and began kissing the side of my face and neck.
“Yunjin are you sure about this whole nude beach thing? And going with her? Wouldn’t it be better if we just stayed here together?”
“Come on, I really want to go. Somi made it sound like fun and it’s totally private. Her company sent her and the rest of the staff here before her next tour, and a bunch of them went, and no photos of any of them or anything ever came out. I can’t even imagine that kind of freedom.” Yunjin continued to kiss her way down my body. “How about you think it over, and while you do that, I take care of you?”
She removed the bed sheet and slipped off her shorts. Quickly she was back to straddling my lap this time there was nothing between our privates. Yunjin rubbed her lips up and down along my shaft which was pressed up against my stomach before raising up and lowering herself down onto my cock. It felt amazing having Yunjin ride me again but as I watched her, my mind was also flashing back to last night and the prospect of watching Somi run naked through the ocean waves.
“I love you,” Yunjin told me as she leaned over me
“I love you too,” I told her and we kissed. I closed my eyes as I felt her tongue slid into my mouth. We made out tenderly. However, with my eyes closed, I was now picturing a wet naked Somi emerging from the water and jogging in slow motion towards me.
“God Som… you feel amazing,” I said as we broke off our kiss, almost saying Somi’s name by mistake. I spun us over so Yunjin was on her back and we fucked in missionary position. We kept humping one another, Yunjin wrapped her arms and legs around me. She made me keep eye contact with her until she finally came on my cock. Watching her beautiful face contort as she came set me off. I quickly pulled out just before I came. Splashing her pussy lips with my cum.
Yunjin reminded me that we needed to get ready to meet Somi down in the lobby. I took a quick shower and threw on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. Yunjin was dressed similarly to the way Somi was earlier, with a bikini, a sarong, and sandals. She grabbed her beach bag with our towels and stuff as we headed out.
“Are you sure about this?” I asked Yunjin as we rode down the elevator.
“Yes, I’ve never been to a nude beach before. I always had to worry about paparazzi showing up or someone else taking pictures. Why are you not more excited about this? You’re about to spend an afternoon on a tropical beach with a naked me and Somi. I’m pretty sure there are millions of men out there who would literally kill to be in your place.” Yeah, she was right. I needed to relax and somewhat enjoy today. Or at least pretend to, so I didn’t make Yunjin suspicious of anything.
“Yeah I know, I just wanted to make sure you’re cool with this.” The elevator doors then open and we stepped out. Somi was in the lobby dressed the same as before, only now she had a big bag similar to Yunjin’s as well. Somi already had a car waiting outside to take us to the private cove where the beach is. The ride was only about 5 minutes before we were let off at dirt lot that was surrounded by trees. Yunjin and I followed Somi as we walked on a path between the trees that led to a set of stairs that which went down to the beach of the secluded cove. Somi had said that this nude beach was pretty private, and she was right. The place was still on resort property, the opening to the cove was roped off so boats and jet skis could not come in, and unless you were with someone who knew where the beach was it was doubtful anyone would ever find it. As we walked down the stairs, I could see a couple dozen people were also at the beach. A number of which seemed to be couples of various ages, there was a group of 7 or 10 college-age girls and several guys who seemed to be alone and just there to check out the women.
As we got down to the beach, Somi and Yunjin went to find us a clear spot while I went over to where they were renting out beach chairs and got one for myself. As I walked back over, I noticed some of the single men watching Yunjin and Somi lay out their beach towels. After I put my chair down in the sand, I tossed my phone and wallet into a beach bag and took off my shirt.
“Wow, somebody got kind of kinky last night,” Somi said, referring to the hickies Yunjin had made on my neck and collar bone. Though at least two of them had been made by Somi herself.
“Yeah, I guess I got a little carried away last night,” Yunjin said.
“You don’t remember doing it?” Somi asked while taking off her top and exposing her breasts.
“No, I was pretty drunk by the end of the night,” Yunjin replied. She then looked around and took a deep breath before taking off her top as well. The two women then dropped their sarongs and bikini bottoms and stood totally naked on the beach except for their sunglasses. “Alright Minho, your turn.”
I grabbed the waistband of my shorts and got ready to push them down, but right as I was about to drop them, I watched as Somi spun around and bent over to get something out of her bag. Of course, she kept her legs perfectly straight as she bent over giving me a great view of her ass and her pussy peeking out underneath. As I pushed my shorts down, I prayed for God to give me the strength not to break down and fuck Somi right here on the beach. When she finally stood up, she had a bottle of sunscreen in her hands. I couldn’t help myself from getting rock hard as I watched Yunjin and Somi rubbed their bodies down with the lotion.
“Stop staring and put on some sunscreen,” Yunjin said while throwing the bottle at me.
“And remember at a certain point you’re no longer applying lotion, you’re just playing with yourself,” Somi teased as Yunjin started applying sunscreen to her back. I laughed, though when it did come time to put lotion on my crotch, I could not help but give my meat a couple of extra strokes.
Over the next two hours, the three of us enjoyed ourselves and the beach. The girls sunned themselves on the beach and I tried to do some reading, though could not help but check out the two ladies. I found myself sitting in my chair comparing the two women’s bodies.
Both had dark areolas, but while Yunjin’s nipples were nubs, Somi’s were more like pencil erasers that stuck out. Both had completely shaved their pussies, Yunjin’s was a total innie, while Somi had slightly longer inner lips that stuck out a bit. Somi had a nicer ass and toner legs. As much of a distraction as they were on the beach, in the water they were not better. Yunjin and I made out some and fondled me, but we also played around with Somi a bit. Just the usual kind of horseplay with dunking one another under the water and me tossing the girls a bit. This led to some purposeful groping by Yunjin and some “accidental” touching by Somi. Somi and Yunjin had fair share of guys checking them out and I saw the group of college girls look me over, though no one thought anything of our touching. Somi told us that that kind of stuff was not a big deal. She’d seen far worse at the beach and then pointed to a couple at the far end of the beach who were clearly fucking on a beach chair.
“That kind of thing happens here all the time. I don’t see him here today but there is a local bartender guy at the resort’s dance club. I swear his cock has to be a foot long and all he does during the day is hang out here hoping to bang with one or more girls who are on vacation. He’d be all that group over there,” Somi told us while pointing at the group of college girls as we stood in waist high water. “I remember coming down here for a sunrise yoga session, by the way, Yunjin they do naked yoga here at sunrise every day and you should total try and do it before you leave.”
“Okay, that sounds great.”
“Anyway, I just remember leaving when it was over one morning and watching him just plow two girls on the picnic table over there. When he came it was like a super soaker went off.”
“You and him ever hook up?” I asked.
“No. He’s got a big dick and all but he’s kind of an asshole. He tried hitting on me once, but literally, all he did was walk up to me, shake his dick in my face and ask if I was interested. When I said no, he just walked on to the next attractive girl,” Somi told us. “I’m thirsty, you guys want anything?” Yunjin and I both asked for her to get us water. She then sauntered out of the water, giving an extra wiggle to her ass as she walked. I turned to Yunjin and she wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a kiss. I kissed her back and moved us back into deeper waters.
“You having a good time?” I asked her.
“Yes,” She gave me another kiss and wrapped her legs around me. Her sex now pressing right up against my erection. I let out a groan as felt her press harder up against me. All the teasing and spending time around these two naked beauties had me hard almost the entire time and it was starting to take its toll on me. “I told Somi to stop her teasing. I can tell it starting to get to you.”
“Thank you, but you know I love you, right?”
“Of course I know that. But you’re only human. If she keeps accidentally rubbing her ass against you and bending over in front of you, I almost wouldn’t blame you if you snap and jam that big dick of yours into her. God knows she’s been asking for it.” Yunjin didn’t know the half of it. While she may have seen some of the touching Somi had done under the water, what she had not seen was earlier when she went to the bathroom Somi basically pounced on my dick and deepthroated me for a blissful two minutes. She sucked my cock hungrily but made sure to stop before she had to worry Yunjin seeing us and before I could have a chance to cum.
“Please, this dick is only for you,” I told my wife and then used my hand to take aim and thrust into her under the water. Yunjin bit her lip to muffle her moan as I pushed my full length between her folds. The two of us just stayed in the ocean like that, with my dick soaking inside her as we kissed and talked lovingly to one another. I gave a few slow and gentle thrust but mostly I just let my cock soak in her pussy as to not draw attention to ourselves. I don’t know how long it would have taken for me to cum from doing that, but I was not given the chance to find out as we were interrupted by Somi yelling at us from the water’s edge that she got us some food. We begrudgingly decoupled and walked back to our beach towels to join Somi for a mid-afternoon snack.
After we ate the girls went back to sunning themselves and I hopped back into my chair and tried to get some reading done. I was finally starting to actually concentrate on my book when I noticed Somi moving around. She had sat up on her elbows and now had her chest up thrusted into the air as she tilted her head all the way back to look at me sitting behind her.
“So… does that thing ever go down?” Somi asked referring to my ever-hard dick.
“I’m hanging out with a pair of the most beautiful women in the world, both of whom are naked, and I haven’t been able to get off. The fact that my dick hasn’t exploded is a borderline miracle,” I half-joked.
“Yeah, I’m going to have to take care of him as soon as we get back to the hotel. I’m starting to feel like we’re torturing him,” Yunjin added
“Why don’t you just take care of him now?” Somi asked.
“What?” Both of us said.
“I told you before, people have sex out here all the time. So just go on and blow him. The poor guy needs it badly,” Somi encouraged her.
“Are you sure?” Yunjin asked. I was going to say she didn’t have to, but it would be really hot to do it, and I was super fucking horny. Yunjin rolled onto her stomach and crawled over to me. With her now on her knees in front of me, she looked up at me and asked, “Do you think I should?”
“I... I can’t answer that. You can’t really expect me to answer whether or not I think you should give me a blow job.” Yunjin looked around to see if anyone was watching, and then started to lean down and go for it.
“Yes, yes,” Somi said excitedly as she got up on her knees and got moved closer to get a good view as Yunjin stuck out her tongue and began licking the head of my cock.
“Kind of salty,” Yunjin said before opening her mouth wide and started going down on my dick. God, her mouth felt amazing. I could not help myself from putting my hand on the back of her head and pushing her head down on my dick.
Normally, I was not the kind of guy who would take hold of Yunjin’s hair and move her head up and down, but I was so desperate to get off I could not help it. Yunjin just put her hands on my thighs and let me bounce her face up and down on my cock.
“Umm yeah, make her suck that big cock.” Somi encouraged me. Looking over to her, Somi was watching us closely, but also sat back on her knees far enough that I could see her fingering herself as she watched. “Fuck that beautiful face.”
“Oh god, Yunjin, your mouth feels so fantastic. I can’t wait to cum, and then get you back to the hotel and just pound that pussy of yours up against the wall,” I told Yunjin as I continued to bounce her head up and down my pole.
“Do it. Cum in her mouth.” Somi moaned while she had on hand work her cunt and another playing with her nipple. “Cum in her mouth, and Yunjin, when he does, don’t swallow. Just collect it in your mouth and then show it to me. I want to see your mouth full of his juice.”
“Oh god,” I moaned. I was close to cumming. My eyes darted back and forth between Yunjin sucking me off and Somi playing with herself. “Shit, uggghhhh,” I grunted as I came, locking eyes with Somi as I came in Yunjin’s mouth. Just like she asked, Yunjin collected as much of my cum in her mouth as she could, though some ran out of the corner of her mouth. Yunjin turned to Somi and opened her mouth to show her my jizz in her mouth. Then something happened that shocked both me and Yunjin. As she opened her mouth, Somi pounced on her. She quickly wrapped her hands around Yunjin and pulled her in for a big open mouth kiss. I watched her shove her tongue into Yunjin’s mouth and saw as the two ladies shared a forceful kiss with my cum passing back and forth between their mouths, some of it ran out of the mouths and down their bodies. Watching this made my dick even harder than it was before the blow job.
Somi eventually let go of Yunjin’s face and she backed off a bit. Yunjin looked completely stunned by what just happened and had no reaction as Somi then sucked off some of the cum that had dribbled down Yunjin’s chest. It was so hot to watch, had I not been so shocked I would have pushed one of them over and started fucking them. It didn’t matter which one.
After that whole display, we all agreed it was time to get back to the hotel. We got dressed quickly, Yunjin called for a car as we walked back up to the parking lot. I was planning on getting in the backseat with Yunjin and Somi for the ride back to the hotel until a Toyota Yaris pulled up to drive us back to the hotel and I was forced to sit in the front passenger seat. Despite being a short ride, it felt like forever. I was dead serious about wanting to fuck Yunjin up against the wall as soon as we got back to the hotel. Behind me, I could hear Yunjin and Somi whispering back and forth and a sudden gasp from Yunjin.
When we got back to the hotel, I took Yunjin’s hand and speed walked through the lobby to get to the elevator. I did not even realize Somi was still with us until we were on the elevator. When the elevator got to our floor, I pulled Yunjin off and we both yelled goodbye to Somi. The two of us practically sprinted to our room.
“Where is your key?” Yunjin asked as we approached the door.
“It’s in my wallet, I threw it into your bag earlier,” I told her. Yunjin dug through her bag as we stood in front of the door.
“I don’t see it, but I found my key,” she said as she pulled it out of her bag and stuck the keycard into the door. She opened the door and I pushed her in. Letting the door close behind us I grabbed her bag and tossed it into the room.
“Remember what I said on the beach about fucking you against the wall?”
“Yeah,” Yunjin replied wrapping her arms around my neck, knowing what was about to happen. I pushed my shorts to the ground and then picked up Yunjin. She wrapped her legs around me and I pulled her bathing suit to the side. We kissed hungrily with open mouths as I pushed her against the wall and jammed my cock into her cunt. I pounded her hard against the wall. Neither of us were saying anything other than moans and grunts as we fucked hard against the wall. At one point my leg buckled a bit but that did not stop us. Yunjin dug her fingers into my back as I regained my balance and I swung her over so that we were no longer banging up against the wall, but instead were up against the hotel door. I could only imagine what the banging and moaning against the door must sound like to people walking in the hallway.
“God babe, your pussy is so fucking wet. You must have really gotten off on giving the blowjob on the beach.”
“Yeah. It was so hot. I couldn’t believe I actually did that. It was so sexy. And then the kiss with Somi afterwards and her fingering me in the car. It was incredible.”
“She fingered you in the car?”
“Yeah. We were talking about the beach. She asked if I got turned on by what happened, and before I could answer she pushed two fingers into me.”
“Holy fuck, that’s so hot. I can’t get that image out of my mind. I’m going to cum soon.”
“Do it babe. Cum for me. I want to feel you cum inside me.”
I kept pounding her cunt until my dick burst inside her. Even though I had just cum less than an hour ago, my cock still erupted with the force and volume as though I hadn’t touched myself in a month. Yunjin came as I continued to cum in her.
After we were done fucking, we retreated to the shower to rinse the sand, salt water, sweat, and in Yunjin’s case, semen, off of each other. Once we were clean Yunjin went to take a nap and I ordered something special to be brought up to the room later tonight before joining her in bed.
I slept for a good two hours and when I woke, I was happy that Yunjin was still asleep so I could set up. I quietly went and pulled out a hidden bag with candles in it. I set them up around the living room and opened the door when room service showed up. They wheeled in a small chocolate fountain, with a bunch of strawberries, a couple of cans of whipped cream, and four bottles of champagne.
When the room was all set up, I went back to the bedroom and woke Yunjin up. She smiled happily as I told her I had a surprise for her. She went to go put some clothes on but I told her she would not need any.
“Oh my God babe, this looks amazing!” she said as she saw what I did with the living room. She gave me a kiss before running over to the chocolate fountain. She dipped a strawberry into the fountain and ate it. “Oh wow, that’s really good,” she said, “Ummm, this is all really sweet and all, but I am starving and I don’t think chocolate covered strawberries are going to be enough.”
“I was the same way earlier, there’s pizza under the skirt of the fountain table.”
“Awesome.” I watched her ass as she bent over in front of me and pulled out the pizza. The two of us ate and drank champagne naked on the couch in a candlelit room. Once the pizza was gone, we moved on to dessert. We started dipping strawberries in chocolate and spraying whipped cream into each other mouths. We were also now on our second bottle of champagne. Of course, the alcohol also led to us dripping some whipped cream and chocolate sauce on to one another, which led to us licking those drips off one another. 20 minutes later we finished off the second bottle, and I had Yunjin laying on her back with chocolate sauce dripped all over her tits and nipples, and whipped cream sprayed all over her pussy. She was moaning I went down on all fours to lick her clean.
I had her breast licked clean and now had legs up in the air as I cleaned her body of whipped cream. We were both totally focused on one another to the point that neither of us heard when our hotel room door opened and closed.
“Oh wow, this looks really romantic.” I didn’t have to turn around to know who was standing behind me.
“Somi you’re here,” Yunjin said as I stopped eating her out and dropped her butt back to the floor. Turning my head I saw Somi standing in the doorway in a romper that had a zipper going down from the collar to the crotch. “Wait, why are you here?”
“Your man left his phone and wallet in my bag so I just wanted to bring it back.” She held them both up and tossed them to me as she walked over the fountain.
“Is that all?”
“Umm-hmm.” She said as she ate a strawberry.
“Oh please,” Yunjin said with her speech slightly slurred from the champagne. She stood up and walked over to Somi. “Just admit that you want to have sex with my husband, or me, or me and my husband, or whatever.” Yunjin dipped her fingers into the chocolate and then took them and pressed them into Somi’s mouth.
“Just admit you came down here looking to have sex,” Somi responded by nodding and sucking Yunjin’s fingers clean. Once she had sucked all the chocolate off of them, she pulled Yunjin’s fingers from her mouth and pulled in Yunjin for a kiss. Unlike the beach, this time it was much softer.
I watched as the two women made out. Somi grabbed a can of whipped cream and sprayed both of Yunjin’s nipples, then bent down and licked the cream off. Once Yunjin’s breast was clean, Somi repeated the act again. Yunjin reached for the zipper to Somi’s romper and slowly pulled it down. Once the zipper was down far enough, Somi shrugged the top of the romper off, and it hung at her waist. Yunjin then dipped a strawberry in chocolate and began painting Somi’s chest with it. I watched as my wife began licking chocolate off the tits of the woman I had cheated on her with the night before. Once she had licked her clean, Yunjin turned to me and waved me over. As I made my way over to her Yunjin, she gave me a kiss.
“Fuck her good,” she whispered into my ear.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
“I know you love me. This is just sex. She’s been teasing you and asking for it all day. Now give it to her.”
I turned my attention to Somi. Unlike yesterday or earlier today where she had been giving me dirty sexy looks, Somi now stood topless in my hotel room with an innocent look on her face. I knew this was just for show. I took one step forward and she lunged towards me. We made out passionately and I shoved her romper down to the floor, leaving all three of us totally nude.
“Fuck me hard. I want you to pound the fuck out of me in front of your wife,” Somi said before jumping up and wrapping her legs around me. I spun her around and sat her down on the cart with the chocolate fountain. Somi let out a loud moan as I pushed my dick into her. Yunjin moved behind me and pressed her tits into my back as I began pumping Somi’s cunt.
“How does it feel? Do you like how my husband fucks you?”
“Yes! It feels incredible. I love his dick. We should have just done this on the beach,” Somi moaned. Somi leaned back and tried to bring my mouth down to her nipples, but as she leaned back, she knocked over the fountain causing the chocolate to spread and puddle over the floor. We all stopped and looked at the mess we made on the wood floors. It gave us all pause, but there was nothing we could do about it now and we were all so drunk on lust it really didn’t matter. I reached down and picked up another bottle of champagne. Shook it a bit and after the cork went flying the liquid shot up and sprayed over Somi’s body. Just like last night, I willing began lapping up the champagne off of the body of the blondie in front of me. This time however I was fucking Somi and I was sucking the liquid off her breast and occasionally giving her nips a bit of a bite. Yunjin continued to press her tits into my back as she alternated between kissing my neck, nibbling on my earlobes, and whispering words of encouragement as I fucked our new friend. The whole situation was the thing that dreams are made of.
I was getting close to cumming, but I didn’t want to give my load to Somi. Or at least I didn’t want to give her this load. Picking Somi off the table, I dropped her down on the floor in the middle of the spilled chocolate sauce. Once she was laid down in the chocolate, I dipped my hand into the spilled sauce and then smeared the chocolate onto her crotch. I then took a can of whipped cream, put the tip into Somi’s cunt and gave her a spray. Somi gave an “oh” as she felt the spritz of cool foam sprayed into her.
“Yunjin, why don’t you eat out your friend.”
“She does look tasty,” Yunjin replied. Yunjin got down on her knees and elbows in front of me, and as she began eating the cream out of Somi’s wet pussy, I moved into place behind Yunjin. I gave her ass a hard slap before taking hold of her hips and I plunged into her and began fucking her hard. The three of us stayed like this for a while. Somi on her back getting eaten out by Yunjin, who was on her knees and elbows getting fucked doggy style by me, all the while we were all in the middle of a large puddle of spilled chocolate sauce. As we fucked eventually there was a chain reaction orgasms. Yunjin was first as she came on my dick and moaned loudly into Somi’s love tunnel which caused her to cum, and the combination of feeling Yunjin cum and watching Somi’s “O” face pushed me over the edge and I erupted inside my wife once again. After we all finished cumming, I rolled Yunjin onto her back and picked the can of whipped cream back up.
“Somi, don’t you think you should repay Yunjin?” Somi didn’t say anything, she simply smiled broadly and rolled onto her knees. As Somi began eating her ass, I sprayed Yunjin’s tits with some whipped cream and began eating it off of her. The two of us doubled teamed Yunjin’s body, I would kiss and play with Yunjin's tits while Somi ate her pussy. A few times Somi went a little further, lifting her butt up and licking her chocolate covered ass. At one point even sticking her finger into her ass while she sucked on her clit. We did not stop our attack on her body until we gave Yunjin a powerful orgasm that made her body shake. The time off from fucking had given my dick a break and now I was back to full mass and ready to give Somi a pounding.
Getting behind her I pushed Somi’s back down so that her ass suck up more. Her ass was covered in chocolate sauce from laying in it earlier. I could not help myself from giving her ass a few licks, before taking hold of her hips and pushing my dick into her. Somi happily pushed her ass back towards me, making sure I was fully into her. Somi and I just pounded each other. The entire hotel room filled with the sound of our grunts, moans, and skin slapping both from me jackhammering her pussy and from me actually slapping her ass which I knew from last night she loved.
While this was going on Yunjin merely sat back and watched as I fucked her friend. At one point she came over to me and kissed me. I reached out and took some whipped cream and sprayed it on Somi’s ass. Then just like I did with her pussy earlier, I pushed the tip of the can into her ass and gave it a spray.
“Lick her ass,” I told Yunjin. She looked at me hesitantly at first then gave me a kiss before turning her attention to Somi. Yunjin began eating Somi’s ass while I continued to pummel her pussy. Somi loudly yelled out as she came hard on my dick. After she came, and the whipped cream was all gone I told Yunjin to back off. Taking what was left in a bottle of champagne I dumped it over Somi’s ass, making sure it was nice and wet before I took my dick out of her pussy and slammed it into her ass. Somi quickly had another orgasm as I fucked her ass.
“I wish I was recording this” Yunjin said as she masturbated while watching me fuck Somi’s ass.
“Me too,” Somi grunted, “I wish I had a video of tonight for when I am alone on the road.” Somi had me stop temporarily, but it was just so that I could roll onto my back and she could ride my dick reverse cowgirl. I watched as my meat slid in and out of her backdoor as she bounced on my rod. I could feel her fingers occasionally brush against my balls as she was obviously rubbing her clit as we fucked. It took a good minutes before I finally came. Blowing my load all up into her ass.
After I came, I thought I was done but apparently, the women were not done with me. I was pushed onto my back as Yunjin used her hand so smear some of the excess chocolate sauce that was still on the floor onto my dick and Somi took a whipped cream can and sprayed my crotch until the can was empty. The two women then went to town on me. They used their tongues to clean the chocolate and cream off of me, while they were also doing their best to stir my cock back to life. At first, the two of them seemed to be fighting and pushing for position, but after two minutes they found a rhythm and seemed to be working in connection with one another. Once the sauce & cream were gone, the two women worked in perfect harmony with each running their lips up and down the side of my cock simultaneously. Had I not known better I would have thought that this was not the first time Yunjin and Somi had been in a threesome together. They had my dick more than back up to full strength.
Yunjin then bump Somi out of the way and got in position. Swinging her leg over my lap, she sank down on my cock and began riding me. As Yunjin bounced on my dick, Somi pulled Yunjin face towards her and the two women kissed. Yunjin rode me hard for a good two minutes before Somi pushed her off of me and took her place. Somi worked her hips even harder and faster than Yunjin dead. Instead of staying at her side, like the way Somi did before, Yunjin moved back and straddled my face. She dropped her pussy down on my face and giving me no other option but to eat her out. After another couple of minutes, the girls switched positions again. This went on back and forth several more times. One woman would ride my cock while the other would ride my face. Occasionally they two women would make out, or grope each other, or suck on each other's tits.
“Oh god, I can’t hold back much longer,” I said as Somi got off of my face. Yunjin had already cum twice and Somi once from our current position. Knowing I would be spent after this next orgasm I tried to hold it off as long as I could, but couldn’t anymore.
“On her face,” Yunjin said as she rolled off me, “I want you to cum on her face.” Yunjin pulled me up to my knees, and Somi laid down in front of me. My cock hung over the top of Somi’s forehead, and Yunjin took hold of me with one of her hand. She began to stroke me, and Somi smiled brightly as she looked up at the handjob happening above her face. It took less than a minute for me to cumming. Somi giggled as my cum rained down on her pretty face.
When it was over, we were all exhausted. We were also filthy. Covered and chocolate sauce, dried whipped cream, sweat, and other bodily fluids from one another. We didn’t even bother to fool around in the shower as the three of us rinsed our bodies clean before going to bed. That night I slept peacefully with Somi and Yunjin cuddling on either side of me. The next morning I awoke as I felt movement on the bed. I opened my eyes but it was still dark outside.
“What’s happening?” I asked.
“We’re going to go do that morning yoga Somi mention, but you can go back to sleep,” Yunjin answered.
“Okay.” Yunjin gave me a kiss before climbing back off the bed.
“Yeah, you better get some more sleep, you’re going to need all your energy for later,” I heard Somi say before the girls left and I tried to go back to sleep. Reflecting on the past couple of days I found myself wondering if this some long coma dream or maybe I had died and this was heaven. This was all too amazing to be real. Either way, it didn’t matter and I was going to make the most of my current situation for however long it lasts.
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incognit0slut · 2 days
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Behind Closed Doors 2
Part one
You welcome Spencer back to the team with a special gesture of your own—and find yourself falling even harder for him after he opens up to you.
Warnings: (18+ MDNI) sub older spence my beloved, handjob, oral (m), spit kink?, semi-public (they are FREAKY), and idk if we can call this angst but we get to know how he feels about returning to work ~3.9k words
A/n: I didn’t plan for a part two, but rewriting scenes with specific looks of him is growing on me. Also, this happens before Emily tells him to teach seminars on his leave. And tell me what you think!!
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He looked good in pink.
That was an understatement, the man looked good in pretty much anything. But today? Something was different. Something looked different. His whole appearance seemed to be on point than usual. You noticed his typically tousled hair was styled and swept back, which was a very rare sight, and it was hard for you to look away.
“…as you have obviously heard, Dr. Spencer Reid has been fully reinstated,” Emily announced, snapping you back to reality. “Welcome back, Spence.”
“Whoo-hoo! Yes!” Penelope cheered, only to be met by Emily’s pointed look. “That’s not the end, is it?”
Your boss shook your head and then proceeded to continue with another announcement. You stole a glance towards him again.
Maybe it was just really his shirt that made him look good? It wasn't even overly tight, but snug enough to accentuate the lines of his broad shoulders. Has his shoulders always been that wide? Now that you think about it, he did seem to be putting on a little weight. Not that it was a bad thing, and not that you didn't like how he looked before, but you couldn't help noticing how he filled out his shirt, and for some reason, it was doing something to you. 
Probably more than something because now you wondered what other places he filled out.
A sudden round of applause filled the room, and you joined in, tearing your gaze away from him only to find Matt Simmons grinning at you. You looked away and followed everyone as they shuffled around the room, making sure to sit as far away from Spencer as possible, although luck wasn't on your side when Matt settled into the seat beside you.
"You don't seem too thrilled about me joining the team," he murmured, leaning in close.
“What do you mean? I’m always open to new faces around here.”
“Not as excited as having an old member back, though,” Matt remarked, prompting you to snap your head at him, a slight frown forming on your face. He winked teasingly, and you groaned, shoving his shoulder away. 
“Ugh, do not wink at me.”
His laughter filled the air, but it quickly faded as the atmosphere in the room turned serious. Penelope began briefing everyone on the new case, and you did your best to mask your grimace every time a gruesome picture flashed on the screen. By the time Emily called out, “Wheels up in thirty,” you rose from your seat.
To talk to him or not talk to him?
You weighed the pros and cons, sneaking a quick glance at Spencer, who was deeply absorbed in studying the case files. The logical part of your brain told you it wasn't the best time to strike up a conversation, especially with only thirty minutes left until you had to leave. But there was something about him, it felt almost instinctual, like you were naturally drawn to him, and like a magnetic force, you couldn't resist.
Oh, fuck it—you decided to approach him.
Taking a deep breath to steel yourself, you made your way over to where he was sitting, trying to ignore the flutter of nerves in your stomach.
"Hi.”
"Hey," he greeted, looking up with a small smile at the corners of his lips. "What's up?"
“Can I talk to you for a moment?”
"Sure," Spencer replied, his expression curious yet amused. He set aside the files he had been studying and turned his attention fully to you.
“In private?”
There was a brief pause, and you swore you could practically cut the tension with a knife. Then, with a deliberate slowness, he rose from his seat, his gaze never wavering from yours. You tilted your head back to look at him as his presence seemed to fill the room,and you couldn't help but hold your breath as you waited for his response.
“Of course,” he finally agreed, his eyes lingering on yours for a moment longer before he turned, leading the way to a more secluded spot, past the bullpen, past the glass doors, and down the hallway.
Once you were both out of earshot, he leaned in. “How private are we talking about?”
You nudged his side before guiding him towards the nearest office. As you stepped inside, your heart pounded in your chest, and you quickly glanced around the room to make sure it was empty. When you confirmed it was unoccupied, you turned back to see Spencer closing the door behind him.
Then everything snapped.
You weren't sure who made the first move, whether it was you or both of you acting on instinct, but before you could process it, his lips were on yours, his arms pulling you close, tongue colliding with your own. You gasped at his eagerness and wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you as you pressed yourself against him.
With a boldness you didn’t know you possessed, you pushed him against the nearest wall, your hands tangling in his hair as his hands found their way to your ass, squeezing lightly. A soft moan escaped your lips and he responded by deepening the kiss further. It felt like time stood still as you lost yourself in the heat of his mouth against yours, until you finally pulled back, your lips brushing against his jaw.
“What…” He gasped when your mouth trailed lower. “What’s gotten into you?”
“I don’t know,” you groaned into his neck, his scent filling your senses. Why did he have to smell so good? “I think it’s your hair.”
“My… hair?”
You pulled back slightly, your fingers tracing along the collar of his shirt, your eyes roaming over the exposed skin of his chest where the top buttons were left undone. “Or maybe it’s the shirt.”
“My shirt?”
“Yes!” You half-exclaimed, half-whispered, trying to keep your voice down. “I think I’m ovulating and you’re not helping.”
Spencer's eyes widened in surprise, a flush creeping up his neck as he processed your words. "Oh," he managed to say. “I didn't expect that.”
"Sorry," you apologized, feeling your cheeks warm with embarrassment. “I didn’t mean to—”
But before you could say anything else, his expression softened, and his grip on your hips tightened. "Hey, it's okay," he reassured you. “It’s common for women to experience changes in their hormones during ovulation. It's completely natural and nothing to be embarrassed about."
You looked up at him, your hands sliding down his chest. “Yeah?”
He nodded. “Yes, it’s just your body doing its thing,” he said reassuringly. "And honestly, it's kind of flattering to know that... I have that effect on you."
A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as your palms drifted lower. “What else do you know about this stuff?”
“Well, around the time of ovulation, a woman's body produces more estrogen, which can increase libido—”
His breath hitched when his eyes fell on your hand resting over his pants.
“What?” you prompted, a playful glint in your eye. “Why did you stop?”
Spencer's cheeks flushed slightly as he met your gaze. "I, uh…” He cleared his throat. “I was just going to mention that… increased estrogen levels during ovulation can also lead to heightened sensitivity in erogenous zones—”
But his words trailed off into a sigh as you palmed his arousal over his pants, feeling the hardness beneath your touch. He was undeniably aroused, and the way he responded to your touch only fueled you even more. With a mischievous grin, you ran your palm up and down his length, feeling him throb in response before letting out a playful giggle.
You didn’t realize it would be this fun to be the one doing the teasing.
“Tell me more, Spence.”
He swallowed hard before managing to speak. "W-Well,” he stammered. "Increased estrogen levels can also... enhance blood flow to certain areas, leading to heightened sensitivity and... uh, increased pleasure—”
But before he could finish his sentence, you applied a little more pressure, causing him to let out a low groan of pleasure. His words faltered, his focus shifting entirely to the delicious sensation of your hand stroking him. Your eyes traveled down, watching the way his cock pressed against the fabric of his pants, noting how thick and hard he was. 
But as your gaze lingered, you caught sight of the time on your watch, and reality came crashing back in. You reluctantly pulled your hand away from him, and Spencer blinked at your sudden withdrawal, his desire-clouded mind trying to focus on you.
“What's wrong?” He whispered. “Why did you stop?”
“I… I kind of got carried away, I’m sorry," you noted. "We should probably get back before they start to wonder where we are."
He went still, and so did you. The room’s air conditioner hummed softly, filling the silence as you both simply stared at each other. When he didn’t respond, you slowly backed away and moved toward the door, but his grip on your arm stopped you. You turned towards him, eyebrows raised while he seemed to hesitate to say the next words.
After a moment, he sighed, his gaze softening as he finally found the words he was looking for.
“The other day, after we… you know,” he emphasized, and you nodded, urging him to continue. “I had to deal with this myself.”
His eyes flicked over the bulge in his pants and you stifled a laugh, amused at his sudden fluster. “Yeah, you said you were going to ignore it.”
“I didn’t,” he replied. “I couldn’t.”
“And?”
“And…” he hesitated, his gaze flickering away for a moment before meeting yours again.
There was a moment of silence until you realized what he was implying. You gasped, the hand he wasn’t holding covering your mouth in shock. “Here?” you asked in disbelief. “At work?”
His cheeks flushed, but he nodded sheepishly. “Yeah,” he admitted. “In the bathroom.”
“Spencer,” you exclaimed in a hushed tone, “That’s...”
“I know, I know,” he cut in, his tone self-deprecating. “But in my defense, it was all your fault.”
You giggled. “Me? I barely touched you!”
"Exactly, but it was enough to drive me crazy,” he said, and when he saw you laughing, he gave you a deadpanned look. “It’s not funny.”
“Oh come on, it kind of is.” You shook your head in amusement. “Why are you telling me this?”
He hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours. “Because I don’t want to leave this room and deal with it by myself again.”
Your eyebrows shot up. “Is this your way of asking me to touch you?”
His eyes widened almost cartoonishly wide, the flush creeping up his cheeks contrasting against the paleness of his skin, making his reaction all the more apparent.
“Please?”
You couldn’t suppress the grin that tugged at your lips. “Spencer, we only have…” You glanced over your watch. “Fifteen minutes left.”
“I can probably finish in five.”
You bit your bottom lip. How did you end up in this predicament all over again? Although this time, you felt like you had the upper hand, and somehow, it was strangely exciting to see him so affected, to have him practically begging for your touch when you were supposed to be in a hurry.
He looked at you expectantly. How could you say no when his eyes were wide and pleading? 
“You know what?” You turned to him fully, taking a step forward. “I think you deserve it. It’s your first day back, after all.”
Before you could second guess yourself, you reached for him again. His breath hitched slightly as you undid his belt and slowly lowered the zipper of his pants. His arousal strained against the fabric and you briefly met his gaze. Without a word, you slid your hand inside his pants, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.
He felt full in your hand and painfully hard. When his response was nothing but his ragged breathing, you reached for the waistband of his briefs with your other hand, pulling down slightly until his cock was freed from its confines. 
“Spence, you’re so…” Your voice trailed off, eyes fixated on him. The tip was thick and bulbous, a deeper shade than the shaft where pulsing veins ran up the long length. You were mesmerized by his size; it wasn’t too big nor too small, just perfect.
“You’re so pretty.”
His eyes fluttered closed for a moment before he looked back at you. “You think so?”
You nodded, feeling the heat and the weight of him in your grasp. A droplet of wetness glistened on the tip, and unable to resist, your thumb brushed along it, earning a sharp intake of breath from him as his hips instinctively bucked against your touch. With a newfound confidence, you wrapped your hand around him, feeling his hardness pulsating against your palm. 
The skin was soft as you’d expected, warm to the touch, but his length was stiff and throbbing when you squeezed. If you stayed still, you were sure you could count his heartbeat. As your hand moved up and down tentatively, trying to take in every detail of his member, you couldn’t believe you were finally feeling each vein that bulged up his shaft.
“Do you mind if I spit on it?”
He let out a low groan, his head falling back against the wall. “No.”
“Really? Coming from someone who’s germaphobic?” You smiled amusedly. "I thought you'd be more concerned about hygiene."
"I'll make an exception for this."
You couldn't help but laugh at his response. Trusting your instincts, you craned your neck down and let the liquid spill from your mouth, coating his tip in a steady flow. Your saliva glistened in the light, slowly trickling down the length of his cock. Then you began to stroke him gently, you felt him respond eagerly, his breaths growing heavier and his hips rocking gently against your hand.
His head fell back against the wall, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “God, that feels…” 
Feeling a surge of pride at his reaction, you couldn’t resist teasing him further. “Is this how you touched yourself in the bathroom?”
He swallowed hard, his breath hitching as he met your gaze. 
“Were you thinking of me?” You pressed on. “Did you imagine me touching you like this?”
His response was barely a whisper, but you caught it. “Yes…”
His breath was warm against your face, and you looked up, taking in the way he was looking at you through half-lidded eyes, lips parted as soft moans slipped out of his mouth. Who would’ve thought he made the prettiest sounds? You knew he was trying to keep his voice down, but the sight of him struggling to suppress his pleasure only made it more thrilling.
“Or did you imagine me getting on my knees, taking you in my mouth?” you teased, your voice low and sultry as you traced your tongue along your bottom lip. “Did you picture yourself deep inside of me, how tight and wet I would be?”
His forehead dipped until it was resting against yours, breaking the self-control he was desperately trying to maintain. “Oh god—I-I can’t hold it any longer.”
Your response was simply to increase your speed, your fist moving in fast short strokes up his leaking cock. He was slick with arousal, and you focused your attention on the sensitive tip, prompting even louder sounds of pleasure from him.
“Wait—" he gripped your wrist, forcing you to stop. “I’m so close.”
You frowned, watching the conflict play out in his expression. "I thought you wanted this?"
“I know, it’s just—“ His brows furrowed, a hint of desperation in his eyes as he struggled to maintain control. Then, with a defeated sigh, he admitted, “I don’t want to make a mess.”
You scanned the room, your mind racing for a solution. The office offered no privacy, and there was nothing around to help clean up the mess he would definitely make, so you needed a different approach.
Without hesitation, you got down on your knees.
“What are you doing?”
“What do you think I’m doing?”
“You’re gonna—” he gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously. “I can’t let you do that.”
“Shh,” you hushed, lightly hitting his thigh. “Just help me hold my hair up.”
He hesitated for a moment, but the desire in his eyes was undeniable. Slowly, he reached out, gathering your hair in his hands. You felt the warmth of his fingers against your scalp, his touch gentle yet firm. You leaned in, your mouth hovering just inches from his swollen tip as you glanced up, meeting his eyes one last time before you took him into your mouth.
The taste of him was intoxicating, and you could feel every twitch and throb as you wrapped your lips around him. His grip on your hair tightened, a guttural moan escaping his lips, your tongue swirling around his tip, tasting the salty bead of arousal that had formed there. His hips bucked involuntarily, and you took him deeper, jaw stretching wide as you struggled to get every inch of him inside your mouth while wrapping your hand around what was left.
You moved slowly at first, getting used to the feel of him in your mouth. It didn’t take long until your mouth was working in tandem with your hand, creating a rhythm that had his body shaking. The room was quickly filled with the sounds of his ragged breathing and soft moans, and you couldn’t believe this was actually happening. There you were, hiding behind an empty office with the potential of getting caught. 
But you didn’t care, nor did Spencer, as he held your hair and bucked his hips into your mouth. You could feel the tension building in him, his breaths coming in short, desperate gasps. He was so, so close, and you wanted to push him over the edge. You quickened your pace, your mouth moving up and down his length, hollowing your cheeks to create a tighter seal.
His moans grew louder, and you could tell he was struggling to keep quiet. “Please,” he whined, his voice strained. “I-I’m gonna…”
A choked gasp cut off his words as he reached his climax, his release hitting the back of your throat in hot, pulsing waves. You swallowed him down, savoring the taste of him, the warmth spreading through you as you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. His expression was one of pure ecstasy, mixed with a hint of disbelief and awe.
As he slowly came down from his high, his grip on your hair loosened, and he gently helped you to your feet. "That was..." he trailed off, still catching his breath. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I wanted to. Besides, I think you deserved it,” you said before pointing a finger at him. “But we can’t keep doing this at work.”
He looked at you, amusement and disbelief dancing in his eyes as he adjusted his clothes. You could almost read his thoughts: you were the one who initiated this, not once, but twice. The first time might have been out of panic, but this time, it was all you.
“I’m serious,” you said, crossing your arms to emphasize your point. “Now that you’re back, we should keep a certain distance between us. No more sneaking around.”
He raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile curling at the corners of his mouth. But then you watched as his expression suddenly shifted, as if he remembered something and his smile turned into a frown followed by the furrow of his eyebrows.
“What? What’s wrong?”
He glanced at you, his hands sinking into the front pockets of his slacks. “I haven’t told this to anyone but… there’s a condition to my reinstatement.”
“What do you mean?” 
He took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours. “For every hundred days that I spend on the field, I’m required to take thirty days off.” 
You blinked, processing the information. “Wait, what? So you’re not fully back?”
“Technically I am, just not how I want it to be.”
You watched as his shoulders slightly fell. “You’re not happy about this, are you?”
“What am I supposed to do on my days off? A whole month of sitting around in my apartment doing nothing?”
You took a step closer, placing a comforting hand on his arm. “You’re not going to be sitting around doing nothing. Think of it as an opportunity. You can catch up on your reading, maybe even take a trip somewhere.”
He shook his head. “That’s not the same. I want to be out there, doing my job, helping people. It’s what I’m good at.”
“I know,” you said softly. “But you can’t give your best if you’re burnt out. These breaks could help you recharge, keep you sharp.”
He sighed, looking down at the floor. “I just feel like I’m being benched, like they don’t trust me fully.”
You tugged his arm, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Hey, they trust you. This is about keeping you safe. After everything you went through… Spence, you deserve this break. They just want to make sure you’re at your best every time you’re back in the field.”
When he didn’t seem to fully absorb your words, you pressed on.
“Think about it, you have so many options. You could pick up a new hobby, spend more time with your mom... or finally visit those places you’ve always talked about. Like that museum you mentioned before, what was it called again?”
His gaze softened as he listened to your suggestions. "The Smithsonian," he replied after a moment, a small smile playing on his lips. “I've always wanted to spend a whole day there without rushing.”
"Exactly! Now you'll have the time to do that."
He nodded slowly, the tension easing from his shoulders. "I guess you're right.”
“See? It’s all about perspective.”
His lips curved into a smile as you both fell into silence. Then, he studied you, his eyes scanning your features as if trying to decipher the thoughts swirling in your mind through the subtle shifts of your expression.
“Will you come with me?” 
Your heart skipped a beat, and your breath caught in your throat at the unexpected question.
“You want me to come with you to the museum?”
"Yeah," he murmured, his voice soft, almost quiet. "Will you?"
It was a simple question, but it held a weight that you couldn't ignore. You had spent plenty of time together, grabbing lunch, chatting at the coffee shop down the road. But this felt… different. More personal. More intimate.
And suddenly it came crashing to you. You were so absorbed in what was happening between you, the stolen kisses, the physical attraction, that you didn’t realize your friendship was never going to be the same again.
On one hand, the idea of spending more time alone with him was undeniably tempting, but the rational part of you wasn’t sure if it was the wisest thing to do. He was your friend, a good one at that, and getting emotionally involved with friends could either strengthen or strain the relationship.
You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you searched for the right words. But before you could answer him, both of your phones vibrated with a notification. You both looked at your own devices and read the message.
“We’re leaving now,” Spencer announced, shoving back his phone in his pocket. “We should go.”
You nodded slowly, your gaze lingering on the door for a moment longer before you turned towards him. “You know what? You should head out first. I need some time to myself.”
He furrowed his brows slightly. You could tell he wanted to ask more questions, but he didn’t press on. “You sure?”
“Yes,” you replied. “Just give me a minute and I’ll follow behind.”
His eyes lingered on you for another second before he nodded, offering you a small, reassuring smile. “Sure, I’ll save a seat for you.”
You returned his smile, though it felt more like a grimace as you watched him exit the room. The click of the door closing behind him seemed to echo in the sudden silence, leaving you alone with your swirling thoughts as the rush of emotions flooded over you. It felt as if you were standing at the edge of a precipice, unsure whether to leap or retreat.
With a deep breath, you pressed a hand to your chest, trying to calm the fluttering inside. But the truth was undeniable—you were falling for him, and you were falling fast.
644 notes · View notes
slvttyplum · 3 days
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“suck it, slide it down your throat. there you go.” 
satoru and suguru made sure that you got your fill out of the relationship, and one of the ways was to fuck you stupid at the same time, even if you couldn’t handle it. they wanted to make sure you were slutted out for them and then only, so if you attempted to be with someone else they couldn’t have you at your full potential. 
life is crazy, it gets filled with different sayings and metaphors, but one that stuff with you throughout your life was that one was better than two, trying to make others feel good about what they had, well they were wrong. 
two was certainly better than one. 
having one dick slide down your throat and hitting you repeatedly as cum was sliding against the roof of your mouth, and having another one poke your sweet spot repeatedly while you tried to whine, was definitely better than having one. 
once satoru and suguru showed you what it felt like to be greedy and having two dicks in your body repeatedly, you couldn’t get enough even if you tried. you couldn’t have one without the other, one of them had to be thrusting into your mouth, they had you trained. 
down to your every touch, they knew it; they knew everything. how to get you to curl under their touch and buck at the knees when they got their cocks out, already assuming position beneath them. 
threeomes were never fun for you. they got messy; it was too much work, and the obvious favoritism turned you off, until your boyfriends waddled in your life. it never felt like threesomes with them; everyone was being used in a way that was enjoyable and pleasurable; it felt so fucking good to the point you wanted to get fucked more. 
you wanted satoru’s dick to be pushed deep inside of you so that your eyes were watering, and for suguru to have his dick so far down your throat that you couldn’t comprehend what was actually happening to you. they made sure to make this happen so that they could see that sexy, fucked-out, dissociated look in your eye. 
“hold out your tongue for me baby… just like that.” cooing as he slides his thumb over your tongue and slaps his dick on it a couple of times before face fucking you. all they wanted was for you to feel good and make a mess out of you, they accomplished it because of how horny you got.
once you felt the syncing of his dick pushing into your throat and satoru’s dick curving deep inside of you and his hands slapping your ass, you never wanted them to stop. you wanted them to keep going until you had cum leaking out both ends of you, their nasty remarks as you slobber all over sugurus dick and squirt on satoru’s.
they knew how to work together to make you cum so that your head was spinning and cum was dripping out the side of your mouth and out of your pussy. they couldn’t hold back when they were fucking you together; they always had to be touched, but you didn’t mind; if anything, you needed them to go harder. 
they controlled what pleasure was surging through your body, what was pumping throughout your mouth and pussy. clenching around them as the pleasure exploded every which way. 
satoru and suguru loved the way you would react to their touches, react to the way they uttered nasty things under their breath and spouted even nastier shit to have you fold under. 
1K notes · View notes
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“Thou Shalt Not Covet.” // Angel!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Human!Reader
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Summary: An angel's duty is to protect and guide humans; never to desire them, for it is a sin. Yet Aemond, the most trusted angel of God, finds himself yearning and desiring for you, a human.
WARNINGS: nsfw, mdni, smut, dubious consent(?), afab! human!fem!reader x angel!aemond, masturbation (m.) unprotected p in v sex, tiddy sucking, fingering, cunnilingus/oral (f. receiving), forbidden relationship, body worship, blasphemy(?), creampie, cumming inside breeding kink, slightly disturbing content at the end, religious themes. + NOT PROOFREAD
WC: 4.5k
A/N: so I'm officially breaking my hiatus with this piece, I know I haven't posted for over two months and I apologize for that! Exams and everything practically ate my life away! // divider creds to @cafekitsune
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God's most trusted angel, Aemond Targaryen, was no ordinary angel. He was sincere, always performing his duties without fail. He was respected amongst his peers, the most obedient angel of god.
Lately there have been rumours about the curse of being God's favourite, whispers about the old tale that all knew very well started resurfacing, the tale of the fallen angel. An incident that is now used as a way to warn angels from disobeying God and trudging the path of temptation.
Must all angels that were favoured by God fall into the way of sin? It has happened before, it might happen again.
Aemond decided that he would never be like that, he wants to prove that he is nothing like the fallen angel and how being God's favourite angel is not a curse, but rather a blessing.
And he did just that. Until a day arrived when he was sent to the land below on an urgent mission.
Aemond was reluctant to descend down to the land of people but he had to on the order of God, his mission was simple, to guide humanity through the famine that was occurring along with the drought that was caused by the devil to wreak havoc amongst the villagers. Messing with God's treasured creations has always been the devil's hobby after all.
And so he disguised himself as a human, helping men, women, children alike to recover, he blessed the land with fertility so that the land could produce crops once again. It was not an easy task, he had spent many weeks on the land, learning how humans function and go about their life which was quite a contrast to angels.
He also learnt how frail the human body is, how much energy is required to perform tasks and an unfamiliar feeling of hunger which he never felt when he was an angel. Every sensation was new to him but he overcame all the difficulties in order to finish his duty.
At least, that is what he had thought…
“Ser?! Are you okay?!” A voice shrieked in shock as he blinked his eye open to see an unfamiliar face with the look of concern staring down at him. You noticed how pale his face was and how dull his features looked, his lips were dry and chapped.
You were just taking a walk through the forest in search of medicinal herbs when you encountered this man lying unconscious in the middle of the path which made you panic thinking he was dead. You sighed in relief when he opened his eye.
“What happened to me?” He asks confused and you furrow your brows, “You fainted.” You tell him and he sighs “Why? I have been eating well though.” He mutters to himself and you clear your throat, you noticed how his face showed signs of dehydration earlier so you end up asking him a question “Did you drink water?” to which he replies with a “No, why?”
You pinch the bridge of your nose in disbelief, “Water is an essential thing to survive, you fainted because of dehydration.” You explain his situation to him and he lets out an annoyed sigh, “Ugh, why are human bodies so frail and require so much material to sustain oneself?” He grumbles and you stare at him confused.
“Whatever, drink this.” You give your pouch of water and he drinks it greedily unknowingly, emptying the entire sac, he hands it back to you. Aemond tries standing up but immediately stumbles, however you catch him just in time so he doesn't fall. “It seems the dehydration was worse than we thought, my house is nearby, let me take care of you.” You offer him help and he just simply nods, “Lean onto me okay?” You instruct him and he does as you say. You lead him to your house.
It was a small house amidst the woods but not further inside, you opened the wooden door with one hand and pushed it with your foot and led both you and the man inside. You opened the door to your small bedroom and took him inside, helping him lay on the bed.
“Please rest comfortably.” You smile at him and he nods, “I will go and prepare medicinal tea so you can recover.” You inform him before getting up and reaching the exit.
“Wait!” He calls out and you turn around with a questioning look, “May I get your name?” he asks politely and you give him a small smile, “It's Y/N” You tell him and he smiles back at you, “ ‘Y/N’ such a pretty name.” He mutters to himself before looking at you, “Thank you Y/N.” He appreciates you genuinely which makes your heart flutter and you give him a nod. “What is your name?” You ask out of courtesy “Aemond.” He replies with a slight smile and your eyes widen, “Oh like the angel!” You affirm and he nods, “Like the angel, yes.”
“You have such an amazing name, that too it being after God's favourite angel.” You compliment him genuinely and he nods shyly. You take that as a cue to leave the room and prepare the tea for him.
Tying your beige apron; you quickly pull out the jar of dried hibiscus petals from the wooden shelf before taking a few of the petals and grinding them slightly, you added those grinded petals into the bot of boiling water and let it simmer for a minute before blowing off the fire and straining the liquid into a wooden cup.
You carry the hot beverage into the room only to find Aemond asleep, ‘his body must've been overly worked without any water’ you smile to yourself before placing the cup down onto the table, the slight noise startling and waking Aemond up from his slumber.
“Oh I apologise, I did not know that the noise would startle you.” You say in a slightly amused voice and he shakes his head, “It's alright.” he replies. “I bought the tea, you can drink it when it cools down.” You point at the cup on the table next to the bed and he nods, “Thank you.” He appreciates your hospitality.
You give him a small smile and he returns it, and then the room falls silent, awkward tension filling the air. You clear your throat in an attempt to break the tension before speaking up “So… I've never seen you around this area before or in the town, are you new here?” You question him.
“Mhm, I just recently got into this town after hearing the news of famine spreading here.” He answers truthfully, he had been going around the area into multiple villages and towns, solving the famine.
“Ah yes, there has been a shortage of food supplies since our land did not produce any crop this year.” You say sadly, thinking about how all the once healthy people in the town now look starved and unhealthy because of the shortage of food.
Aemond notices your sadness immediately and he grabs your hand, wanting to reassure you but the moment his skin comes in contact with yours, he feels electricity shoot up his spine that makes him retreat his hand immediately.
“Are you okay?” You ask concerned, reaching out for his hand. His breath hitches when you touch him, you examine his hand thinking something happened to it, all the while he's trying to control his breathing.
Why does his body feel hot when you touch him?
He gives you a quick nod and pulls his hand away from your grip and grabs the drink in order for the gesture to not seem rude, but luckily for him you don't dwell on it too much.
“Famines and Drought occur when the devil wants to mess with God, something he does for attention while thousands of people are affected.” Aemond grits his teeth, thinking about the reason why many humans are dying and you look at him confused, “And in these times of difficulty, many forget to pray, because all of their time is spent surviving, which further weakens the protection of the land.” He continues.
“So what do we do?” You ask confused.
“Pray, I was going to go to the centre of the village and start praying so that the rain falls tomorrow, but… I ended up like this.” He says embarrassed.
“Do you think God will really help us?” You question and he's shocked and offended by that question but he holds his composure, “He will. Have faith in him.” He tells you and you nod.
“Since you said you were new, you are free to stay in this house, besides you need to recover as well.” You offer him and his eye widens, “I can't, you've already done too much for me.” He refuses but you shake your head, “It's alright aemond, I was starting to stray from the path of God due to the recent problems, but after meeting you, I'm somehow comforted that everything will be alright, a feeling which I haven't felt since the start of the drought.” You admit honestly and he stares at you in awe.
And so you let him stay in your house.
You and Aemond have gotten undoubtedly closer, realising how you both held the same values and opinions, you helped Aemond spread the word of God and soon just like he said, the rain fell and the land began to recover.
You both were currently looking outside the window as the gentle drizzle of rain fell elegantly outside, making the lush greenery of the trees stand out and the smell of wet mud provided a deep comfort to your soul.
“You were right, Aemond.” You smiled at him and he smiled back, using his angelic powers in his human body exhausts him out, especially since the body of the human is so frail and weak, so he often has to recover in your house, but you just thought that it was because of dehydration like the first time.
You looked outside in awe, meanwhile Aemond stared at you instead, your face extremely beautiful as if you had been specially crafted by God himself, your eyes shone as brightly as the stars in the night sky and your hair that cascaded down your back like a waterfall. He couldn't stop admiring you.
He watched as your lips parted when you let out a satisfied sigh, wondering how they'd taste, would they be sweet as they look? He wanted to taste you.
His eye widened in realisation at his own behaviour and thoughts, mind spiralling down a hole knowing that he shouldn't be thinking this way, his closed his eye and took a deep breath, trying to push off all the feelings away but when he opened his eye back again, he was faced with you who looked at him ever so concerningly.
The warm feeling in his heart only growing stronger each and every moment. “Aemond? Is everything alright?” You ask and he nods, “Yeah everything is fine, it's just..” ‘I wanna kiss you.’ He wants to say it so badly, “I just feel under the weather.” He lies.
He lied.
Aemond never lied.
You find it odd but brush it off and leave the matter at that, focusing on the rain outside once again watching as the droplets trailed down the window.
Aemond feels hot on the inside, a burning sensation of itchiness that urges to be scratched, he excuses himself and goes into the bedroom, saying he needs rest, once again, a lie, he shuts the door to the room and you're left alone in the living space.
Deciding not to think much, you began cooking lunch, making soup for the hundredth time.
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Aemond leans against the door, breathing heavily as his body grows hotter and hotter every moment, there's a weird sensation between his legs that makes it hard for him to focus on anything else, he looks at the bulge in his pants and touches it, wincing at the electricity that shoots through him.
It's painful.
He knows that whatever he's feeling is wrong.
But it's too painful to bear.
He closes his eyes trying to collect himself but he cannot contain himself, and so he slowly grabs the bulge giving it slight squeezes for it to stop the feeling but not enough to make it go away.
Why is the human body like this?
Why couldn't he control his desires like he did when he was in his angel form?
He slowly pushed his hand down the material of the breeches and held his cock, he grips it which makes him choke out a moan at the sensation.
It felt good.
And so he slowly starts stroking it up and down, curiously experimenting by brushing his thumb against the tip which causes him to whimper, he clasps his own mouth shut at the noise he made but doesn't stop stroking himself.
Muffled noises of soft moans fill the room as he touches himself wondering why the feeling isn't going away, he strokes himself faster which causes him to throw his head back against the door with a loud thud.
“... Aemond?” Your voice makes him stop all of his movements, “Y-yeah?” He replies, trying to sound normal, “I'm making soup, is that okay?” You inquired for his opinion and he replied a choked “Yes.”
He hears your footsteps walk away from the door and he continues to stroke himself, the memory of you calling out his name doing wonders to his imagination as he pictures you moaning his name beneath him, he rubs himself faster, grip tightening on his cock envisioning that he's fucking into your cunt instead of his own hand.
And before he can comprehend the imagery; he feels an immense amount of pleasure shoot through his entire body, making him see white and let out a loud muffled moan of your name o as he feels the wet liquid spurt out of his cock and onto his hand.
He's trembling by the time he's done, looking down at his now unclean hand, white liquid dripping down his palm, the situation of what he had done weighing heavily upon him, the feeling of dread seeping into his body- and so he lets out a soft sigh.
What has he done?
He quickly finds a cloth to wipe himself off and uses the water in the bowl beside the table to wash his hands, he sees his own reflection in the water, feeling disgusted at what he had done.
But it felt so good.
He quickly leaves the room to find you crouching down, tending to the fire as you prepare the soup on top of the heated slab. “Need help?” He asks and you flinch, looking at him with a flushed face, “Hm? O-Oh no need.” You look away quickly. He frowns wondering what happened, you stand up and reassure him that nothing has happened and push him towards the table to sit down. You slightly rub your thighs to ease the tension between them.
You couldn't focus; After all- you just overheard what he did inside the room, the muffled moans, the strokes, and when he called out your name. You heard it all.
The wooden doors aren't really good at covering noises.
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A few days passed by quickly after that, the town began to see changes as the crops began sprouting quickly, and soon Aemond's mission was finally completed. Which meant he had to return to the heavens.
But he did not want to.
He actually feels guilty returning to heaven after what he did with his human body.
He was slowly putting his clothes away, ‘packing’ to leave when the door opens which reveals you. Your eyes glance over to the sack of clothes and you quickly realise what's happening.
“You're leaving.” It wasn't a question, but rather a statement which leaves your lips weighed heavily with sadness. Aemond felt something inside him crack as he looked at your solemn expression.
“I have something I want to confess before I leave.” He speaks up and your eyes glint with hope, wondering if he'll confess his feelings to you finally- “I'm an angel.”
“Aemond, now isn't the time to be joking.” You furrow your brows but he shakes his head, coming closer to you and holding your hand, “I am not, I came here on a mission to solve humanity's problems and now I have to return to the heavens.” He can't stop speaking, no matter how much the voice inside him tells him that he shouldn't be revealing his true identity to humans. “Aemond, this is not funny-”
“I'm not trying to be funny, I am not lying, here I'll prove it to you.” He lets go of your hand, and moves to the window, and your eyes widen as the sudden sunny weather darkens and rain begins to fall.
You shall not reveal your identity.
You shall not flaunt your powers.
“Is that enough for you to believe me?” He asks and you're shocked, “Are you really..?” You question and he nods. The air shifts and you realise that you're in a heavenly presence which makes you scared- “Be not afraid.” He tells you and your breath hitches in your throat.
He moves closer to you again, caressing your cheek, “I'm telling you all this because- I don't know, I don't want to leave you behind.” He admits truthfully. “But if you're an angel, then we can’t-” You try to speak, but he cuts you off, “I know.”
“Truth be told, I have no idea what it is about you that made me hold such feelings towards you, but all I know is that I want you, I desire you, I need you.” He grips your shoulders, hands digging into your flesh.
You must not seek out a human.
You must not engage in worldly pleasures.
The atmosphere is filled with silence and tension as you look down, unable to form a sentence as your thoughts feel too complicated to process and Aemond just stares at you.
‘Do it.’ he hears a voice at the back of his head.
‘You want her, so do it.’ It encourages him.
‘If you want her, you must claim her.’ It's evil.
‘But I have to return to the heavens.’
‘Will you truly be happy in heaven?’
‘I'm not sure.’
‘Without her? Will you be able to continue to live without her?’
‘I do not know..’
‘If you do not claim her, she will fall in love with another mortal man, will you be able to stand it? Watch down from the heavens with the realisation that she was never yours?’
‘But I must not, I will soil myself, I do not want to give into the worldly pleasures.’
‘Hah, you're a fool, do as you wish, just remember that once you leave, she will never be yours, she will belong to another man.’
‘Stop.’
‘-She will be touched by another man, kissed, caressed, hugged, all the things you want to do to her'
‘Stop.’ Aemond tries resisting the anger that fills him when he imagines another man touching you.
‘She will get fucked by another man, and you'll watch it happen.’
“That's enough!” Aemond screams which startles you, “Aemond?” He looks at you, and your eyes widen when you realise something in his eye has changed, his pupil resembles that of a reptile. “What's wrong—” You're cut off from your words as he presses his lips against you, electricity courses through your body when you feel his soft lips against yours.
His lips move messily against yours, and he tastes just like honey, you try to resist wanting to tell him that this is wrong, and rationalise that he'll be cast out from heaven if he engages in intimacy with you but you aren't able to form coherent words because of the way he's constantly cutting you off with messy kisses.
“I want you, I need you, I can't let you be with any other man other than me.”
You're conflicted on whether you should encourage this but you remain silent, and aemond takes your silence as an agreement, he slowly slides off his robes and fully shows himself naked in front of you.
He's working on your clothes next, pulling them off you in swift motions before you're left standing bare just like him, he cups your cheek and tilts your face towards him, “Aemond… you'll be punished.” Your voice is laced with concern. “Look at you.. Always concerned for me, it doesn't matter anymore, I've made up my mind.” He pushes you towards the bed and onto it before climbing on top of you.
He places the soft pillow below your head for comfort before he trails soft kisses on your face, down to your neck, breasts and stomach.
“Beautiful, my beautiful lady.” He mutters against your skin, pecking and pulling it between his teeth. “Your body is so beautiful, your frame, everything about it is so beautiful.” He praises peppering kisses being placed on your breasts. He watches in awe as your nipples harden and poke up, and so he wets his lips before opening them and taking your nipple into his mouth, sighing softly in satisfaction.
His tongue swirls around your nipple, playing with the bud and flicking it up and down, the suckling noises that leave his mouth are sinful that makes you wet down there, you grind up against him to feel at ease.
The room begins to get hot and your small gasps and whines fill the air, accompanied by his grunts of satisfaction, that he finally got to touch you like this. He leaves your breast with a pop before focusing his attention onto the other one. “Aemond…” You wail and he looks at you, “... need you down here.” Those words leave your mouth unexpectedly as you rub your clit and he immediately listens to you letting go of your breast.
He travels down until he's directly faced with your cunt, he watches in amusement as your essence drips out of your hold which he licks up and brings up to your clit and suckles on it. “Hggnh!” You arch your back in pleasure as you feel tingles all over your body, your cunt pulsing around nothing when you feel his tongue play with your clit.
He nibbles on your clit, his teeth slightly poking it which makes slight pain shoot up your body. His tongue moves up and down, from your hole to your clit, he sucks on the flaps of your cunt harshly that causes you to whimper.
You feel his finger prodding at your opening before he slowly pushed it inside, “Fuck Aemond!” You let out a whine when you felt how his finger was stretching you out whilst his tongue worked magic on your clit.
He slowly pumped his finger in and out, letting you adjust to it before pushing another one inside which made you shriek but he hushed you with a kiss to your clit, and soon enough- the slow licking of your bud and the pumping of his fingers made you reach your peak. You clenched your eyes shut at the impact of your orgasm; feeling as if your whole body was set on fire, you saw plain white as your whole body quivered because of him.
He pulls his face away and draws back his finger only for him to put his fingers in his mouth, loving the way you tasted. He climbed upward until he was face to face with you and kissed you, making you taste your essence.
“So beautiful.” He says softly as he sees your dazed expression and messy hair, the way your lips are parted slightly as you take deep breaths.
He couldn't contain himself anymore.
He wasted no time in lining himself against your entrance and slowly pushing inside, you gasped when you felt how big he was, but you didn't stop him but instead held onto his shoulder as he pushed it inside inch by inch.
His hair cascaded around his face, making him look angelic, he closed his eye; gasping for air when he felt you clench around him. The way your walls were wrapped around him drove him insane; he couldn't hold back any longer as something in him cracked, his pace was messy and fast, almost desperate as if he was waiting his entire lifetime for this.
The sound of thrusts echo in the room as he speeds up, your back arches in pleasure when you feel him hit a certain spot inside you, his hands grip your waist as a leverage as he constantly thrusts deep and deeper inside you.
He feels like he is in heaven again, the feeling of you finally being his and how you're squirming underneath him, moaning his name, not anyone else's.
“You feel so good.” He grunts, “so fucking good— my love.” he places a kiss on your breast, before looking at you once again, your eyes staring directly at him. The sight of you beneath him, legs wrapped around his waist as you try to grind into him, indicating that you want him too makes him go feral.
His thrusts soon become sloppy, he knows he's gonna finish in mere moments, so he angles his thrusts upwards— hitting your sweet spot multiple times— making you see stars when you peak.
He's almost blinded when he feels his orgasm hit him, the intensity of the sensation being way too much to handle, he lets out a loud moan as he slowly rides out his orgasm all the while pumping you full of his seed.
He pulls out moments later and lays down beside you, trying to catch his breath, and you pull him closer for a hug.
Everything goes quiet for a few moments as you both try to recover.
Only for the silence to be broken by Aemond agonising screams.
“Aemond?” You panic not knowing what's happening.
Aemond feels as though his entire body was on fire, and then the flesh on his back distorts as his white angel wings spring out of it, you stand there in awe when you look at them, they're white feathers, but soon that emotion of amusement is replaced by pure horror when you see it be forcefully get ripped apart from his back by an invisible force of nature.
You scream in terror, while Aemond tries to bear the pain, he knew this would happen sooner or later, but he couldn't help but scream as the pain of having his wings ripped apart and pulled from his back is agonising.
Maybe the curse of being God's favourite was real.
And what Aemond is facing right now is God's punishment for trudging the path of temptation.
“Please- it hurts.” Aemond croaks in agony.
You feel helpless, not being able to do anything except watch, you just cradle his face, his hand grips onto yours tightly.
And soon it's done.
You could only watch as tears dripped down from his eye.
His once beautiful angel wings were ripped apart, the feathers all over the room and the only thing that remained of it were the scars of the wound on his back.
The scar that indicates the two wings were pulled out.
An angel without wings.
A fallen angel.
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— !  ݈݇- thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoyed it <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated greatly ♡
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jayswhorex · 21 hours
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"men suck," you say plopping down on the couch and putting your legs on jason's lap. you leaned back into the plush seating, trying to find some form of comfort in your mind. you had another bad date? that's only the 3rd one this week. this one had spent the whole evening talking about just himself, and god was he boring.
jason's eyes didn't bother looking at you and instead, he helped you peel off those wrenched heels you had worn. "we don't all suck" jason with a snicker, you could just feel the smirk on his face. he never liked any of the guys you went on dates with and he always told you, you had a better option right in front of you but he. he said placing your heels on the floor next to the couch.
"your feet are going to hurt like hell in the morning, let me help you make em less sore princess" softly he grabbed the base of your foot and gently kneaded it into your heel, massaging at the red, bruised skin. at first, you felt the need to pull away from his touch but you slowly began to relax into it.
jason's calloused hands moved from your feet up towards your ankle and then towards your lower thigh, you saw no harm in this.
"jay are you sure-"
"shhh, i've got you, sweetheart, just relax m'kay?" he was only helping you and you didn't want him to stop, at least not now. was it crime to want a bit more, to yearn for more of his touch.
you couldn't help but gasp at the warm feeling of his hands so gentle on your bare skin, under your skirt. "mmm, jay again please…" the two of you had never crossed a line like this and by now you knew you should have told him to stop but you couldn't.
not when your breaths were heavy and you couldn't help but let out estranged moans from just his touch. "fuck, more jay, more!" and with just those words your skirt was bunched up against your stomach and your panties had his full attention. you know what you wanted and he knew too.
he changed his position and began to massage your upper thighs. he leaned against his forearm beside your head while his other hand parted your thighs. he leaned and whispered into your ear, "where is it you want me to touch you, baby?"
without a second to waste you guide his hand to your panties, gently pushing them aside. "here please" you whined and he caved. he didn't hesitate to remove his pants not did he hesitate and sink his thick cock into you. "too much jay, wait wait" allowing you a moment to take in his length and near cum from just the feeling.
his thrusts were slow but we were rough and deep like he had been. waiting for this and he couldn't wait any longer. your legs folded around his waist, bringing his body even closer to yours. this was pure sex and it was exactly what you needed, jason knew that. he could tell you were pent up and tired and he didn't mind doing all the work, he just need you to let him fuck you till, he's the only man you'll ask for.
you won't spend your nights on useless dates but instead spend them on his cock, taking in every inch and piece of him possible. he couldn't help but kiss yours while his hips stuttered against yours, his thrusts becoming softer. you bit at the lip, thinking more when he tried to pull away.
your hands dug into their back, still, you managed to yearn for more. "jay, god I think i'm-" you said, digging into his back once before reaching your release and falling back into the couch. you closed your eyes and then you heard him ask, "what are you thinking about sweetheart?"
there you were on the couch, legs on jason's lap while he massaged the bottom of your foot. nothing had happened, well nothing that you wanted had happened. you could fantasize about what those hands could do for you.
"just how great a full body massage would be…"
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