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grippingbeskar · 2 years

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hands off | matt murdock

matt murdock x fem!reader

word count: 3.6k

warnings: ADULT CONTENT MINORS DNI (mutual masturbation, mxf intercourse, dirty talk) swearing, established relationship

a/n: okay. OKAY! okay. be gentle with this one because it’s my first matt fic!!! also, i saw this video on tik tok about ppl doing this game thing, but idk who posted it first and i don’t have the videos, but that’s where the dies comes from. also this is literally just smut, don’t even look at me ITS BEEN A LONG WEEK. okay bye. literally posting this and running away to sleep bc i am afraid BYE.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Sooo? You like it?” You keep to your side of the couch as Matt brings the glass up to his mouth for a second time. He hums, swallowing and licking his lips, and you have to bite down on your own to control yourself.

Asshole.

“It’s…”

“What?”

“Sweet.” His voice rumbles. You think you should have tied yourself down or something, because there’s no way you can win this stupid bet if he was going to keep teasing you like this. He wasn’t even doing anything, really. Everything he did seemed to turn you on in some way or the other, especially now, as the alcohol starts to kick in, warmth spreading through your face, flowing all the way down.

It was your idea; this whole bet. You and Matt had been together for a while now, and the longer you spent with him you realised how much of a fucking tease he was. So, in your muddied brain, you decided two could play at that game, even though you were almost certain you would fail miserably. You were, however, planning on giving him a run for his money. Or your money, considering how you had both put two hundred dollars on the table for the winner.

The rules were simple. You drink an entire bottle of wine- your favourite brand, hence the taste testing Matt was currently being put through, and sit on opposite ends of the couch. The first one to break - to touch the other in any way, loses. You were notoriously�� frisky, when you drank wine, and Matt thought the game was going to be innocent enough until you started popping more bottles.

“Good sweet or bad sweet?” You say, and he empties the glass, holding it out for you to pour him another.

“I’d give it a good 7 out of 10. I’ve tasted better.” He hears the exasperated gasp of shock, and smiles in a way that’s so classically Matthew that your heart skips a beat. He probably hears that too.

“This is the best thing I have ever had. What could possibly taste better than this?!” You pour him another glass that he downs half of quickly, eager to get to the good part.

“I can think of a few things.” Your breath hitches in your throat, and he smirks, taking another sip.

“That feels like cheating.” Your entire body ignites at the shift in mood, and you nearly shiver when his hand trails along the edge of the couch, moving dangerously close to your shoulder, then retreating back.

“Hey, you said no touching. Nothing in the rules about telling you how much I love your-“

“Okay! Okay. I get it. Finish your glass, cheater.” He downs the rest obediently, placing the glass gently on the table, right next to the stack of fifty dollar notes you had pooled. He was smirking - clearly thinking he was already ten moves ahead of you, but you had a couple tricks up your sleeve to win this thing. Well, one trick.

“So, how do you want to do this?”

“What do you mean?” You finish your glass and get rid of it, the empty wine bottles clanking together somewhere on the floor.

“Well, obviously you are going to lose, so do you want to just give up now, or do we have to play this whole little game first?” Typical. Complete confidence, right from the start.

“Listen, Murdock. One thing you’ll learn about me tonight, is that no matter how incredibly attractive you look right now, I am very competitive. Very. Competitive. Especially when it comes to money, because I am also very broke.” He laughs again, his head hanging back off the couch. “Besides, who says you won’t break first?”

“I’m pretty sure I can take you apart from right here.” His voice has dropped an octave. You recognise that tone in an instant. He only talks to you like that, all commanding and a little mocking; when he’s fucking you. Or about to fuck you. Your whole body reacts to him - you don’t even have a choice in the matter, it’s like a bell rings and you’re switched into that mode. All he needs to do is talk to you like that, and you want to get on your knees and forget all about this stupid bet and-

“Am I right? You think I can make you all sweet and desperate just talking to you?” Yes. He could. He knew it, because he’d done it before, but you weren’t ready to give him the satisfaction. Not when the game had barely started.

“Who says we’re just gonna talk?” You settle back, letting your legs stretch just this side of your half of the couch.

“Is that a threat, honey?” The endearment mixed with his slightly rough tone has you tightening every muscle in your body, and if you didn’t get a hold of yourself you might as well just shreds your money now.

“Just got a few ideas, that’s all.” You blink innocently, and he scoffs.

“I promise we’ll do all the things I know your pretty little head is thinking about right now. All you have to do is give in to it.” The way he’s sitting is so cocky; if he wasn’t so fucking sexy you think you’d slap him. Arms stretched out, one dangling over the back, the other strung lazily across his stomach, making a perfect line down to where his legs are spread as wide as possible. You don’t miss how easy it would be for you to slot yourself in to that spot, to be surrounded by him.

“Hmm. Tempting.” He shrugs, almost saying ‘I know.’ “Or, you could come over here.”

“Now why would I do that?” He asks, leaning forward. You start as slow as possible. This was really the only idea you had to get him to break. Maybe if you threatened it, alluded to it enough, he would forget all about the money and the bet and jump on you.

“Maybe I’ve got something to sweeten the deal.” You trail a slow fingertip up your leg, past your knee and creeping it along your thigh. The fabric of your skirt scrunches up as you get higher, and Matt’s head straightens when he hears it.

“What are you doing?” Still, his voice is that low, gravelly sound that sends shivers up your spine, and you bite your lip to stop a smile before answering him.

“You know how wine makes me.” He knew very, very well, being the object of all your wine-induced fantasies. “I’m all hot, and if you aren’t going to help me…”

“Don’t.” He practically growls, and you let out a breathy laugh as you use your other hand to pull up your skirt completely. He may not be able to see you - but he knows exactly what your doing and how your doing it. He can hear the way you’re moving, the skips in your heartbeat as your finger trails higher and higher. The smell of you, how it changes as you get closer to the wetness between your thighs. He knows. And he looks like he hates it.

Jaw set, he grinds his teeth as you ignore his simple demand. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you touching yourself - he loved it; encouraged it, even, but he wanted to be there for it. Involved in it. If you ever needed that specific kind of relief, he wanted to be the one to give it to you. Even on the few times he’s been away, he’s sent you videos, called you and made sure he was the only one who pushed you over the edge. His name on your tongue as you came to the thought of him, to his words or his pictures. He always wants to be the one. And he always is.

He also has never not been able to touch you, because if you knew one thing, it’s that Matt Murdock was not a man that shared what was his. Especially not you, even with your own hand.

“Stop.” Matt manages to say, and you hum, relishing in the attention he’s focusing on you. You spread your legs a little wider, making yourself comfortable. “That’s cheating.”

“Nothin’ in the rules about touching myself, Matty.” You breathe, and then gasp as your finger brushes over your most sensitive spot, still covered by your lace underwear. “Unless you want to come over here and make me stop?”

“I know what you’re doing. You’ll have to try a little harder than that, sweetheart.” His face is set so hard, like how you’ve seen him in the court room. Focused, not betraying a single emotion on that sweet face of his. You were going to wipe that stoic look off his face one way or the other.

“I’m gonna take these off.” You narrate, hooking your fingertips under the seam of your underwear, and start to slowly pull them down your legs. As you get about halfway, the fabric bunching over your knees, you sigh sweetly. “Help me out, baby?”

He exhales in a short, sharp laugh. He wasn’t technically touching you, and you both knew it was the closest he could get without forfeiting. Leaning forward, he used one hand to grab the part of your underwear not touching any skin, and starts pulls them down. The soft material slips over your shins and calves, and you know he’s going slow on purpose. You lift your feet up so he can remove them fully, and you watch intently as his thumb brushes over his new prize.

“The purple ones?” He recognises the fabric and you moan out a ‘mhmm’. “My favourite.”

“I know.” You let your legs fall open again, and you could of sworn you heard a small sound come from him at the movement. A crack in the ice. It ignites your confidence, and makes you want to keep going. Keep pushing. “Wore them for you.”

“Such a good girl, all the time. You wouldn’t be this mean. Not to me, right?” The words were sweet as honey. You loved when he spoke to you like that - with praise and a little bit of authority. It made you squirm, but you had to hold it together a bit longer. String him out a little further. You just moan again, your hand finding it’s destination, one finger running up and down in between your legs, brushing over your clit lightly. Just how he teases you. You see his face change. “You’re going to regret this.”

“But it feels so good, Matty.” His grip on the back of the couch tightens.

“Better than me?” You shake your head vehemently, appeasing his ego and moaning a negative incase he can’t figure out your answer from the sound of your movement.

“Nothin’ better than you.”

“I know, baby. Why don’t you let me take care of you? Come just a little closer, and I’ll make it all better.” Your toes curl, and you start to make small, tight circles right over your soft centre, nerves alight and sending shocks up your entire body. His voice is all you’ll need to get there, you just need him to keep talking.

“I can’t. You know I can’t.” Your jaw falls open, no longer able to hold it together. “Just want you so bad.”

“If you want me so bad, come here.” His tone is a little more demanding. Frustrated. Stubborn. Another crack. You resist the urge to smile.

“Will you- will you tell me? What you’d do if you could touch me?” He sits up, unzipping his pants and shoving them off aggressively. His erection is impossible to ignore, and your mouth waters at the sight of it when he pulls his boxers down and lets himself free.

“That’s what you want? You want me to tell you all the things I’m going to do to you when you break?” You don’t miss the cockiness in his words, but you just moan again, too lost in the feeling of your fingers against your clit. “Fuck. Okay - okay, slow down.”

You listen, obedient even when defiant. He can hear the sounds of your hands against your arousal slow to about half the speed, and the orgasm that was growing in your stomach is now only being stoked, your legs jolting every time you brush against your clit.

“Good fucking girl. I always go slow first, don’t I?”

“Mhmm.” You moan out, and he chuckles. The fucker was laughing at you. Pay back was going to be a bitch. You were really about to give in, then. Not now, though. If he was stubborn, you were going to beat him at that game, too.

“That’s it. Nice and slow for me. Want you all warmed up when you make yourself cum on my cock.” Oh. God - maybe you couldn’t outlast him. It was those kinds of words, sung to you in a voice so low and clear it was impossible to listen to anything else, that was what did it for you. What undid you every time. Fuck being stubborn.

“Oh God, Matt. Please - c-can I go faster?” He wraps his hand around the base of his cock, and you are mesmerised as he pumps his hand just once, eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, sweetheart. You can go a little faster. Since you asked me so nice. I’d do it for you.” You speed up, the fire in your tummy getting more aggressive as soon as you indulge the feeling. He pumps up and down once more, and his face screws up a little. Not in pleasure entirely, but something a little uncomfortable. At first you think it might be the situation, but then you look down, and recognise his problem. Your submissive side instantly takes over, your brain only knowing to do what you knew he wants. What he needs.

“You want me to help you, baby?” Matt swallows as he feels you get closer, but nods just once, taking his hand off himself. You hover above him, making sure he can feel the heat of your breath kissing the sensitive head of his cock as you angle down closer. God - what you wouldn’t give to wrap your mouth around him right now. You miss the taste of him - the feel of his hand threaded through your hair, how he tangles himself into it to feel the most of you that he possibly can.

Slowly, you let your spit drip down his length, alleviating the uncomfortable feeling of his dry hand. He doesn’t move, just lets you take your time getting him as wet as you are. Matt’s chest rises and falls so fast you think he might pass out, and his head is hung back so far that you can’t see his face from this angle. You bet it’s screwed up, and his mouth is open a little. He always looks so good when he’s strung out.

You start to retreat, careful not to brush against him as you sit back on your half of the couch, satisfied with your work. His hand wraps around his cock as soon as he feels your body heat move away, and the pain once etched on his face is replaced by only pure pleasure. The sight of him has you quickly returning your hand to your pussy, matching the pace he sets.

“Thank you.” He croaks out, and you silently high five yourself for how fucking ruined he sounds.

“Your welcome.” You sound exactly the same.

“God - I want to fuck you so badly right now.” He sighs, moaning your name as he starts pumping his hand harder, hips bucking irregularly. “You know it’d feel so good.”

“It would. You always fuc-“ You cry out as a wave of pleasure suddenly hits your chest, the new rhythm he was setting on himself having you seeing stars. “Always feel so good. Miss having you inside me.”

“Come here. Now.” He says through his teeth, and you just keep moaning out his name. He tries a new approach. “Baby. Baby, please come here. I’ll -I’ll let you cum so many times you won’t remember your fucking name. Just give it up already. I know you want to.” A new crack of determination nuzzles its way through the overwhelming pleasure at his words. Maybe it’s because it’s not actually Matt touching you right now that you are able to form a thought, but his words have you speeding up. Let you come.

Asshole.

“Fuck, Matty. I’m so cl-close - I think I’m gonna-“

“Don’t you fucking dare.” He almost shouts, hand pumping furiously at his cock as he cuts you off. It almost looks like it hurts, and maybe it does a little, but the sounds of his hand moving against himself with your spit is making your brain go fuzzy. Trying your best to keep up with him, your back arches off the couch and you turn your head to the couch cushion.

“Can’t stop, feels too good I just-“ The burn in your arm is secondary to the release you were chasing, and it was so close. You knew what you needed. He had gone silent, because he knew, too. If he spoke, that would be it. He had such a hold on you that all it would take would be a few well placed words and you would crumble in front of him, and for the first time, it was the last thing he wanted.

“Slow down. Right now.” Your back was arching off the couch, and it was an effort not to stretch your legs out. Bunched up on your end, your eyes were glued to Matthew, his abs flexing hard and free hand still fisting the couch, white knuckled. “Do not fucking finish without me.”

The tone of his voice was so low and harsh, he wasn’t meaning to but he was only making it worse. Teetering on the edge, you couldn’t seem to stop yourself from talking.

“I wish you were touching me right now. Your hands feel so rough sometimes and I always think about it, think about how good it feels on me.” Your eyes were squeezed shut, the words flowing out of you from the darkest parts of your tipsy mind.

“Baby just-“ His hand gets faster, you can hear it, his restraint snapping little by little. “You just gotta come over here. Please.” You try to block out how hot he sounds begging for a glimpse of you, so you keep talking yourself through it, thinking of the things he would say if he was fucking you.

“I want you to fuck me through this couch, make me feel you for days like you always do. Want you to…” A gasping breath cuts you off, and it takes you a moment to regain your focus, the pleasure nearly cutting off your air supply making you hiccup.

“Finish your sentence. What do you want?” He was sitting straight up, leaning so close that if you moved and inch you’d feel him. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted him to touch you as badly as you wanted it right now - and that was fucking saying something.

You’d give it one more minute.

You think you can hold out for that long. One single minute of keeping yourself on the edge, one more minute to see if you can break Murdock like he breaks you every time. If you reached a minute and he wasn’t either buried between your legs or inside of you, you think you would implode.

“I- I want you to fuck me like you did when you came home last week. Leave a mark so I could feel it for days and-“

“That’s it. Keep fucking talking.” Your eyes open for a second and he’s kneeling, the hand on the top of the couch right next to your head. You hadn’t even heard him move, but now he was practically hanging over you, almost between your legs. Maybe your words effect him just like his do to you. “You sound so pretty. Keep talking for me, okay?”

“Matty, please just touch me. I need you to mmmmfuck- make me feel good.” He chokes out a desperate sound, and you shut your eyes again, no longer able to bare the sight above you if you couldn’t touch him.

“You need me?” You whine below him, nodding and making sure he knows just how bad he was right. It was a low blow, one you knew would make him even more desperate. Those simple words always got you what you wanted, no matter how long he had been playing with you. “Yeah, you fucking need me. Just need me to touch you so bad. Mark you up. Bet you’d cum as soon as I slid inside you, huh? Already so wet, I can fucking hear it.”

“Need you. Please.” You wheeze, and hear another choked sound leave his mouth. The couch shifts underneath you. Every nerve in your body was begging for him- you were begging for him, a string of pleases mixed with his name. If only either of you was less stubborn this stupid game would have been over long ago.

“You sound good like that. Begging for me. Keep going, tell me how bad you need it.”

“I’ll do whatever you want. Whate- Whatever you want. Just please. Please, please, please…” You sounded like you were having a tantrum, so close on the edge you were almost sobbing his name in ecstasy.

This was it. It probably hadn’t been a minute but you just couldn’t hold out any longer. Fuck the bet, fuck the stupid money. Nothing was worth not feeling him, having him just out of reach, you were so fucking close-

Matt’s hand brushes against your cheek, tucking a lock of your hair behind your ear, and his thumb wipes away a tear you hadn’t realised had fallen on your cheek. It was soft; gentle.

He kisses you softly, and his hand takes over the work, replacing your own and keeping that hard, tight pace on your clit. The feeling was earth shattering - the difference between your hand and his somehow night and day, and when you kiss him back, you realise he just lost. He lost, not so he could fuck you, but so he could kiss you.

“I’m right here, sweetheart. Hm?” He murmurs, the hot air of his breath fanning over your forehead as his hand works at you, and all you could do what sob his name. “Cum for me. I earnt it.”

With that, he slides himself inside of you, and everything turns white.

“Fuck - yes.” You moan out and your cumming as soon as he hits the deepest part of you. He’s suddenly everywhere - an arm under your arched back pulling you against his chest, his mouth on yours muffling your wrecked moans of pleasure, his cock buried inside of you, hitting you hard and fast and desperate; just how you feel.

He isn’t far behind you, giving you exactly what you wanted and finishing inside, so deep you’d feel him for fucking weeks after this. He was making noises you’d never heard from him before - nearly whining with how much he needed you, his whole body tense as you ran your hands over every part you could feel, while your other hand scrunched into his hair.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Is all he was saying into your mouth, fucking you - using you to get through his high while simultaneously working you through yours. His lips moved to your neck, biting and kissing you all over. It was borderline territorial, and you were a whimpering mess underneath him, pinned to the couch taking whatever he wanted to give you and praying for more.

His hips eventually began to stutter in their pace, then slow to a stop- minutes or hours after he came. Time hardly registered, just him finally surrounding you like you’ve been wanting.

“Matt. Matt-“ His mouth was still attached to your neck, and you couldn’t imagine what you looked like, but it filled you with a sort of pride. You almost wanted him to keep going, but you wanted him to kiss you more, so you tugged on the strands of hair threaded in your hands. “Matt. You-“

“I know, baby. Don’t move.” The words echo through you, the command exactly the one you said to him earlier. He slowly slips out of you, never taking his hands off your body, and in one movement curls you up and pulls you completely to his side of the couch.

Finally, you can stretch out, your muscles like jelly as your legs tangle with his. Your head leans back to rest against his chest, which is still rising and falling too fast for normal. Admittedly, so is yours, as well as the occasional twitch in your legs from the pleasure dissipating through your body. Strong arms wrap around your chest and tummy, holding you tight, and he leans his head down to kiss your cheek.

“We are never doing that again.” He mumbles into the crook of your neck, and you laugh breathlessly.

“You didn’t like it?” He groans at your question.

“Baby, I fucking loved it, but I hated not being able to touch you.” He was whining now, and your hand snaked up, scratching lightly through his hair. You think he would of purred if he could. “You’re mine. Don’t like it when you try to come without me.”

“Mmm. You were too far away.” You agreed.

“Was hot, though.” You laugh again and he switches sides to kiss your other cheek, forcing you to look to the other side, where your eyes catch on the significant stack of money.

“I won.” You whisper into his ear, smiling, and he groans again.

“Stupid game.” He grumbles, teeth scraping lightly along the top of your shoulder, making you shiver. “Still made you cum.”

“We can always have a re-match.” He was still mumbling and groaning against you about how dumb the idea was, but you can feel his grin as you laugh.

“I got a different game in mind.” He whispers into your ear, and in the next moment you are in the air, being swept up and carried towards your shared bedroom.

“And what’s that?”

“How about I show you?” He kicks the door closed behind him, and lays you down on the bed slow and sweet before making true of his promise and destroying you from the inside out, just like he always did.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #matthew murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #daredevil x you #daredevil x y/n #matt murdock x oc #daredevil #marvel #matt murdock fanfic #matt murdock smut #matthew murdock x y/n #charlie cox #charlie cox x reader #charlie cox x you #charlie cox fanfiction

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nanaminis · 2 months

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never make him love me

tldr: you’re determined to confess to teen!gojo, but your chances of success are literally 0.

cw: angst/no comfort... sorry? reader is a bit very delusional n kinda weird, gojo may be a bit ooc, no curse au, gender neutral (i think) but reader is wearing a skirt, and im p sure this is not very accurate to the actual japanese school system. not beta read btw

a/n: this has been in my drafts for too long... whoops! trying a different divider but i don’t rlly like it. also does reader count as a girl/boyfailure here or not? they kinda strange tbh :/ idk lol, hope yall enjoy getting rejected by gojo n can yall guess who hes already in love w

you’re in love with gojo satoru.

which, to be fair, a lot of people are. he’s a pretty face: soft, snow-white hair with bright cerulean eyes that draws anyone and everyone in. a big, gorgeous smile, and long, muscular limbs that you just know would feel so good wrapped around you.

plenty of people have confessed to him, and all of them have been rejected. that should be enough to put you off, to make you face the reality that gojo may not be madly in love with you, but it just makes you more determined. he’s just rejecting everyone else because he’s waiting for you!

that has to be it, right?

definitely, you think as you skip to gojo’s classroom. you can feel the weird stares from students (and even a teacher or two), but they don’t matter. you’re going to confess to gojo satoru, damn it, and nothing’s getting in the way.

it’s lunch period, thankfully, which means he’ll be with geto and ieiri. that’s good — his best friends will be there to watch him declare his reciprocated love for you.

you slide the door open, love letter and two packs of kasugai gummies in one hand. a few students in the room glance up at you, including gojo!

the two of you lock eyes — well, you think you do. it’s a bit difficult to tell, but his head is facing your direction, so he’s totally looking at you. he’s noticing you!!!

you bite your lip to stifle the giggle bubbling up in your chest and walk up to the perfect trio (hopefully, soon to be quadruple). “hi, gojo,” you say, a nervous yet giddy smile on your face.

“... hey?” he exchanges looks with geto before focusing back on you. “do i know you?”

okay, ouch. you literally sat behind him in chemistry, but, whatever. don’t focus on the little things!

“um, probably not, but!” you hold out the envelope with a heart sticker as the seal. “i have something to tell you.”

“uh... okay.” gojo scratches the back of his neck, then takes the letter. he slides his finger under the seal, tearing it open, and pulls the letter out. he unfolds it, and both geto and ieiri lean in to also read it.

a frown tugs at the corners of your lips. the words were meant for just gojo, not those two. although... does it really matter? you’re just proving that you’re a good fit for their best friend.

after a drawn out moment of silence, gojo chuckles, albeit awkwardly. “wow, uh... this is a lot.��

you nod. “yeah!” you also hand him the packs of gummies, which he takes a bit more eagerly than the letter and sets them on his desk. “so, um...”

your heart has been hammering in your chest this entire time, but now it feels like it’s trying to escape. sweat accumulates on your palms, and you resist the urge to wipe them on your skirt.

this is the big moment.

you hope and pray and plead to whatever being that’s out there for gojo to accept and reciprocate your feelings. with all the manifesting and ‘love spells’ you’ve done, it should work. gojo satoru is most definitely in love with–

“this is nice, but, uh, i’m not interested.”

...

what?

you blink down at him, and now you’re the one chuckling nervously. “i’m sorry?”

maybe you misheard. that had to be it, right? there’s no way he isn’t in love with you. you bought him gummies, you wrote him a letter, you spent countless hours researching and trying different manifestation methods, you prayed at the shrine, you learned his schedule so that you could pass by him on the way to class, you did everything for him.

he scratches the back of his neck again before refolding the letter and putting it back into the envelope. “i’m not really interested in a relationship right now. you’re probably really cool and stuff, so don’t take it personally.”

no, no, no, no. this isn't how this was supposed to go! he was supposed to say yes! what happened? what did you do wrong?

now you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of his friends. his best friends. how are you supposed to come back from this? thank god no one else in the room is paying attention right now.

heat creeps up the back of your neck and spreads to your face. sweat is drenching your palms, blood is roaring in your ears, and you really want to melt into the ground never to be seen again. you’re pretty sure your heart just shattered into a trillion pieces and a shard pierced your lungs, because you cannot breathe.

you then feel a hand on your forearm, and you jolt. it’s ieiri. “hey, are you–”

“i’m fine!” you blurt, and a few heads turn in your direction. you take the envelope back from gojo, spin on your heel, and rush out of the classroom.

damn it.

you’re pushing past people to get to the restroom, and you slam the stall door shut before locking it.

you’re so stupid. how could the gojo satoru be in love with you?

the tears finally spill from your eyes, running down your cheeks, and you let your face fall into your hands as you sob.

idiot, idiot, idiot.

you should’ve known you wouldn’t be any different. he wasn’t waiting for you. he’ll never be waiting for you. you never had a chance, and in your defense, no one did.

gojo’s heart has already been claimed by someone else, and if you were a little smarter, you’d know exactly who it is.

#jjk #jjk angst #jjk gojo #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #reader angst

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milaisreading · 9 days

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🌱🩷: So here is one of the first stories I promised to write for my birthday... week? Idk, these are more of a treat for myself 😋 hope u like it!

Warnings: Reader uses a mix of she/her and he/him, since she is crossdressing. Requests are open! It's a yandere story, so be warned. If u don't like yandere stories, please skip this one

⚽️Blue lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura⚽️

"Hm? What's up with those two?" Hiori's eyes widened in disbelief as he looked at the scene unfolding in front of him. Yukimiya, who was sitting right next to him cleaned his glasses and put them on again, inspecting the two Bastard players in equal shock.

"Did I go completely insane?"

"No, you didn't. Or, all 4 of us went insane along with you." Isagi gulped, his grip around his chopsticks tightening.

"Since when is (Y/n) so friendly with that German guy?" Kurona gulped as the four watched (Y/n) and Gesner laugh over God knows what. They were both speaking in English and were a little bit away from them, so they couldn't quite understand what was so funny.

'Why are you so comfortable with him?! I am literally here!' Yukimiya thought as he fixed his glasses, trying to distract himself. Hiori had a smile and empty look in his eyes as he watched Gesner ruffle (Y/n)'s hair.

'Don't touch him with your dirty hands. Get away. Get away.'Kurona felt a unfamiliar rage take over him, but tried to keep himself calm. He can't lose his cool now.

'Why him? Please get away from him!' Isagi screamed on the inside.

As the 4 kept having their inner turmoil, (Y/n) was obliviously talking with Gesner.

"Thanks for those German lessons, they really helped me when communicating with the rest when we didn't have those translators."

"Nothing to thank me for. So, same thing tonight?" Gesner raised an eyebrow as she nodded her head.

"Sure. Now that NEL is finally over we have a lot more time to study." (Y/n) agreed as Gesner hummed.

"So, will you be picking Bastard as your team or Re Al? Just curious since you are invested in learning the language."

"I still didn't decide. But, knowing basics in a language is a good thing regardless." She answered as Gesner nodded in understanding.

The next day...

Now, Kunigami wasn't someone who felt jealousy often, after the whole Wild card thing he doubted he could feel anything. He was just tired, but surprisingly enough (Y/n) was not turned off by his new attitude. Kunigami was surprised, but a part of him felt happy that someone wanted to be around him, despite his more moody attitude. He, liked it. Along the way, he ended up developing feelings for the other player, and would always be nearby to help her with things or pull her away when Kaiser or Ness were annoying her. Of course, Kunigami never expected (Y/n) to fall for him, but he thought as long as she was his friend, he would be happy. But, today he was proven wrong with the way he viewed things.

'Why is that bastard so casually talking to him?!' Kunigami clenched his fists as he watched Gesner pinch (Y/n)'s cheek while saying something to her. Although he couldn't understand what it was the German was saying, the blush (Y/n) had on her face was enough to piss him off and set him into action. Kunigami quickly walked over to them and grabbed Gesner's wrist, pulling his hand away from (Y/n)'s face.

"Huh? Kunigami?" The girl blinked, but the boy spared her no attention as he kept on glaring at the confused German.

"Piss off."

'Scary!' She shivered and tried to separate the two while speaking.

"He wasn't hurting me, Kunigami. He just gave me back the pillow I forgot last night." Just as she said that, she immediately regretted it, as the look Kunigami gave her was full of anger, confusion, and sadness.

'Why was he sad?' (Y/n) thought as Kunigami cleared his throat.

"Can you let go, man?" Gesner said agitated as he tried to pull his hand away.

"What do you mean by last night?"

"I spent the night with Gesner in the monitor room and forgot it there."

'You... why him?!' Kunigami gulped, looking at (Y/n) in horror as he let go of Gesner's hand.

'Did... did I say something wrong?' She thought as she watched the whole ordeal.

Later that day...

Gagamaru was someone who could be perceived as different than the rest, not weird, just different. He was more of a guy who enjoyed nature, fighting with bears, and eating everything with his hands, even if they left messes afterwards. Gagamaru was aware he received weird looks, but one of the people he could count on to not perceive him weirdly was (Y/n). He always looked at her as a reliable captain, a talented player, and a great friend. Whenever he had issues or wanted someone to talk to, he knew (Y/n) would be there. And she was, and Gagamaru was always greatful for that. Along the way, Gagamaru ended up catching weird feelings, nervousness, happiness, anxiety whenever he was near her. It took him a while to understand he fell in love, to the point that he tried to keep her attention on him all the time.

'I wonder where he is...' Gagamaru sighed as he looked around the hallway. He really needed to talk to her, but the girl was nowhere to be found. Not in her room, not in the dining hall, not even in the monitor room!

Just as he was about to give up, he heard voices from down the hallway.

'(Y/n)...' The goalkeeper excitedly looked in her direction, only for the smile to drop when he saw Gesner next to her. They were way too close for his liking.

'Since when are they on talking terms?' The boy thought, weirded out by this.

"Hm? Gagamaru? Why aren't you asleep? It's pretty late." (Y/n) stopped conversing with Gesner and looked at Gagamaru in worry as they reached him. The goalkeeper stopped for a moment, then finally spoke up as he eyed Gesner weirdly.

"I... I couldn't sleep. So I took a walk. Why... why aren't you asleep?"

'And why are you with him so late?' Gagamaru wanted to add in, but stopped himself.

"I was telling Gesner what we can visit in Tokyo. Since we will have a few days off, he wanted to see some places before going to Germany." Gagamaru's eyes widened for a second, a unfamiliar pain hitting him when he looked between the two. (Y/n) having her usual smile while Gesner looked bored and confused due to him not having the translators.

"But..."

"Hm?"

"It's.... It's nothing." Gagamaru bit back his tongue as (Y/n) tried to question him again, but he completely blocked her out.

'Why him? We are your team! Not him!'

Gagamaru waisted no time to run to Isagi's room after (Y/n) and Gesner left. If there was one person who knew the midfielder well, it was Isagi. They needed to stop whatever was going on. But, to Gagamaru's surprise when he entered the room, he already saw Isagi and the other three deep in their own thoughts while Kunigami looked stressed.

"Isagi! We have an issue!"

The boy jumped up in his spot, then turned to look at the panicked goalkeeper.

"What happened?"

"Gesner... Him and (Y/n) plan on going together to Tokyo... Just the two of them."

Isagi quickly turned to look at Gagamaru, the speed made Gagamaru worry that he broke his neck for a moment.

"You... you are joking, right? (Y/n) wouldn't... Gesner and him-"

"Hiori, please don't say it put loud like that. God abandoned us today." Yukimiya sobbed and fell on his knees as Kurona looked at a pale Kunigami.

"What do we do? What do we do?"

Kunigami kept quiet as the boy kept on tugging on his sleeve, but he couldn't answer anything. The only answer he saw fit was bash Gesner's head into the wall for corrupting their captain, but that wouldn't be appropriate. (Y/n) would hate him of he did that.

"We need to call in the rest. It's an emergency meeting."

The players looked over at Isagi, who looked both annoyed and panicked.

Later...

Now that NEL was over, the other players were free to roam around without having to answer to the coaches. The BM players were more than greatful for that, even if the room was crowded for now. They had to think of a way to keep Gesenr away permanently. They seriously needed to do something about this development.

"Why are we here? I wanted to sleep." Otoya yawned, looking as annoyed as Rin did.

"Yeah, and why are we cramped up in this room?"

"Why are there clothes on the floor?" Barou looked at the discarded pants near one of the beds as Hiori facepalmed.

"That's not important now, Barou-"

"If the maid is so annoyed with it, he should clean it up. But for real, why did you call us here?" Chigiri questioned, ignoring Barou's annoyed yell.

"Calm down you both." Kunigami commented, looking for once worried.

"Huh? Kunigami, what happened to you? You are not moody anymore?" Bachira raised an eyebrow as Reo looked at the former hero in confusion as well.

"Yeah. Must be pretty serious if even you are invested in this. And why isn't (Y/n) here?"

"That's the thing. This is about him-"

"Damn, your beds are so much softer than ours. Can I sleep here instead?" Kurona held himself back as he got interrupted by Nagi, and he was about to say something but Isagi quickly stepped in.

"Please, this is serious. (Y/n)-"

"Couldn't it have waited after my nighttime routine? And you could have at least invited (Y/n) over to make the trip over here worth it." Aryu said, looking in annoyance at the 6 Bastard players while combing his hair.

"Can you let us finish speaking? This is about (Y/n)!" Gagamaru yelled, finally fed up with everyone's yelling and interrupting. The Blue lock team stopped dead in their tracks and looked at the 6.

"What do you mean about that? What happened? Is he sick?" Niko was the first one to speak up, followed by Tokimitsu who looked composed and calm for once.

"Is there something we need to know? Just tell us."

"I swear I will skin you all alive if you let him get hurt-"

"Calm down, king. This one isn't even our fault. Can you let us finish?" Yukimiya glared at the red-eyed boy as Karasu chimed in.

"Let's all calm down and let them finish. This isn't helping anyone." Although the crow boy said it calmly, they all could see he wasn't calm, at all.

"Thank you, as we said (Y/n) is the one we called you all over for." Hiori started, but stopped as he looked at Isagi for some support.

"He... well, Gagamaru saw him earlier and it looks like him and a German player are having a.... a date." Isagi cringed at the word and so did the others, who then looked back at the rest of the team. The reactions were a mix of everything. Otoya and Karasu looked stunned at each other and then back at Isagi, their expressions clearly giving away that they didn't believe them. Others like Bachira and Niko shrieked at the news and immediately jumped on Isagi, shaking the boy to repeat what he said, which caused Yukimiya and Kurona to step in and pull them away from him.

"You... you guys have to be joking. There is no way (Y/n) would date that guy... He isn't his type. Right, Reo?" Nagi said nervously as he quickly sat up on the bed, looking from Kunigami to Reo.

"That's right, I know him. He likes soft spoken people more. I am sure you misunderstood-"

"He told me that himself. You think I would make up such a horror scenario because I have nothing better to do?" Gagamaru interjected, causing Reo to shut his mouth, eyes widening in fear.

"This can't be... He wouldn't leave me like that...." The heir murmured as he slowly sat down on the bed. Chigiri and Aryu decided to approach this more rationally, there was no way they lost to that blonde guy.

"There must be something else behind it. Why would he pick some guy he just met when he has us?" Chigiri tried to stay calm as he nervously smiled at Hiori.

"You guys must be joking-" Aryu started but Kunigami interrupted him.

"We are not. And, I do find it believable after what I found out."

"Which is? What did you find out?" Tokimitsu spoke up as an eerie calmness took over the room.

"Him and Gesner spent the night together in the monitoring room. (Y/n) told me so himself." Kunigami finally said, looking as disgusted as he did when her told Isagi and his friends earlier. Yukimiya looked at everyone, as expected, none of them looked well, faces pale and looking at them like they were ghosts. He bit his lips and quickly sprung into action along with Kunigami as they heard Barou and Rin scream.

"That nobody, lukewarm player! I will kill him for trying to take him away from me!"

"Not if I do that first. I will make his death as painful as possible."

Yukimiya and Kunigami quickly ran over to them to hold them back from leaving as Hiori yelled at them, looking at Karasu's calm demeanor suspiciously.

"Wait! We need to watch our next actions. If (Y/n) finds out we even had this meeting, we are done for!"

"Are you stupid?! I am not letting some no-name player take him from me!" Rin glared back at Hiori.

"This is all your fault, Isagi! You should have watched over him!" Barou yelled at the blue-eyed boy, who tried to keep his cool after the whole room went into a panic mode.

"I will break that Gesner guy's bones." Karasu declared as he cracked his knuckles, earning a nod from Otoya.

"I will join you there. Leave some for me."

"Hey! I am in this picture as well. I want to see him suffer as well!" Bachira said in a happy demeanor, so happy that it was creepy.

"I want blood, a lot of it. There is no way I will let him go unpunished for trying to take (Y/n) away." Chigiri cleared his throat.

"Is murder legal, Reo? Please tell me it is." Nagi said as he tugged on the boy's sleeve.

"I will bail you out of jail regardless if it is or isn't."

"I just want (Y/n). Where is he?" Niko asked as he held back a few sobs while Aryu glanced back at Gagamaru.

"Where is his room? I know we can talk him out of this."

"So you don't want that Gesner guy to pay?" Tokimitsu wondered as Aryu raised an eyebrow.

"I never said that."

Isagi looked at the whole chaos in front of him as an idea popped into his head. He knew exactly what they can do! Gesner was just one, while the rest of them were a team. Sure, they might not get along, but the do agree on one thing. (Y/n) was meant for the Blue Lock team, and the Blue Lock team only. And the common enemy will make it a lot easier for all of them to get along.

"I have an idea! For that though, we all have to work together. If we want (Y/n) to just focus on us, that is."

The whole room stopped and looked over at Isagi, who had that same expression he would wear when he finally figured out where he could score the next goal.

"Go on." Rin demanded as the rest kept quiet.

2 days later...

(Y/n) was standing near the Shibuya station, waiting for Gesner for the past 30 minutes. The girl was a little worried, and she would have rather picked him up from the facility than let him come here alone, but her parents were insisting on her coming home because of some family meeting.

'It was absolutely worthless, anyway. Where is he even? Did he get lost?' She thought in a worried manner as she dialed his number again, only for it to go to voice-mail immediately.

"How annoying..." She muttered while fixing up her mask, deciding to scroll through her phone while observing some of the people that were passing by.

'The girls are so lucky they can wear those cute dresses... Meanwhile, I am stuck with a boring shirt and pants.' (Y/n) pouted and looked down at her clothes.

"(Y/n)!" The girl's eyes widened in surprise as she heard three familiar voices yells her name while she got tackled to the ground. The passerbys looked at the group in surprise and whispered as they slowly started recognizing the players. But, Bachira, Kurona and Niko paid them no mind as they looked down at the girl.

"Guys, what are you doing here? And, can you get off of me?" (Y/n) asked calmly as the trio agreed and got off her and then helped her up.

"We were roaming around the place and saw you. Why are you here alone?" Niko explained in an innocent manner, trying not to give away that all three of them knew the answers already.

"Yeah, it's kind of weird to be standing alone here of all places." Bachira giggled.

"You are the one to talk." Kurona said in a more defensive manner as he stood in front of (Y/n), to which the girl chuckled a little.

"It's ok, and I was just waiting for Gesner to arrive. He is pretty late and won't answer any calls." She said in a worried tone, but neither of the boys paid it any mind.

'You don't need him.'

'We are all you need.'

'So stop thinking of him, please.' The trio thought as Bachira cleared his throat.

"Well, if he is leaving you stranded like this, Isagi, Chigiri, Otoya, Yikimiya, and Aryu are outside waiting for us. Join us instead."

"I can't just leave him with no warning, Bachira. That's rude." (Y/n) scolded the boy a little.

"And where is the rest? They didn't want to come?"

"No, they did. They are just looking around some malls and will join us as well." Niko quickly added in as Kurona nodded along. But, before (Y/n) could say anything her phone went off. A message! She quickly looked at the sender, relieved it was Gesner who sent it to her. The trio watched her expression slowly drop, and they felt guilty for assisting in making her upset, but that slowly faded as they remembered they could lose her otherwise.

'Sorry,(Y/n). This was necessary...' Kurona gulped.

"Huh..."

"Everything ok?" Niko asked obliviously as (Y/n) looked up at him.

"Gesner said he won't be able to come. Noa-san called them in for a last minute meeting..."

"That's sad, but you can now join us instead. What do you say?" Bachira said, not even bothering to hide his excitement as (Y/n) sighed and put her phone away.

"I guess. You won't mind if I joined you out of the blue?"

"Absolutely not!" Niko smiledand grabbed one of ther arms while Bachira grabbed the other.

"Come on! We have so many fun activities planned!"

The two started pulling her towards the station's exit while Kurona was behind and pushing her.

"Hey! No need to do all that! I will follow you three." (Y/n) said I an amused manner, used to their demeanor.

'That's right. Just laugh around us.' Bachira thought as he slowly tightened his grip around her hand.

'Just pay attention to us.' Niko thought, glancing at the girl.

'We will keep you safe from outsiders. Like every teammate would.' Kurona mused to himself as they finally exited the station and saw their group of friends eagerly waiting for them.

"Yoo-hoo! We found (Y/n) on our way here!" Bachira yelled as the group smiled excitedly at the captain.

"We didn't expectvyou here. How was meeting up with your family again?" Isagi wondered.

"It was the usual. Nothing notable." (Y/n) shrugged as the three boys finally let go of her.

"Now that we have (Y/n) here, we should go and eat!" Otoya exclaimed as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"Shouldn't we wait for the others?" (Y/n) raised an eyebrow as Yukimiya and Chigiri shook their heads.

"They are taking their time, and I am hungry as well."

"Yeah. The slow pokes will catch up to us, anyway."

"Let's go then." Aryu exclaimed as they finally started walking towards a local restaurant. The initial sadness (Y/n) was feeling slowly faded away, enjoying the company of her friends and teammates now.

'That's right. We are all you need. I am all you need.' Aryu thought as je watched (Y/n) laugh at something Yukimiya said.

'This is how it should be. Just him and us... and no outsiders.' Chigiri hummed.

'I wonder when they will arrive. Hopefully soon.' Isagi thought as he remembered the rest of his team that was missing.

'I wanted to bash his head into the wall in, but noo Karasu had to part us like this.' Otoya thought, still salty that he couldn't take part in the other group.

Meanwhile...

"This is quite a mess. It's a good thing barely anyone is here today." Tokimitsu thought as he looked at all the blood in the shower room. Karasu shrugged his shoulders as he pointed at Barou and Rin.

"Blame them. They went mayhem on Gesner."

"You guys really did the most on him. I can barely recognize his face." Hiori giggled, earning eyerolls from Rin and Barou.

"Of course I will when he tried to steal what's mine." Barou rolled his eyes as Rin sneered at Gesner's body.

"Ours, maid Barou, ours. We said we would share him." Nagi yawned as him and Reo cleaned their hands.

"Reo, for how long will the cameras be defect again?" Kunigami wondered as Gagamaru leaned against one of the walls, staring as Gesner's bloody form with a blank expression.

"You deserved this." The goalkeeper whispered, growing more and more irritated.

"We have still an hour left till the maintenance is done, they will reactivated then. Let's quickly change and leave while nobody is around." The heir smirked as Rin started walking towards the exit of the shower rooms.

'Finally. I have nothing to fear now. He won't leave me for a no name player.' Rin thought, finally letting out a sigh of relief.

"I really wish there was a cleaner way..." Barou groaned as he followed after the younger Itoshi.

"This was as clean as it could get. Now lets hurry up! I want to see (Y/n) again. I didn't see him yesterday or today." Hiori hummed with a smile.

"It was either this or nothing. Intimidating him wouldn't have worked." Kunigami shrugged.

"What's done is done. We just need to make sure (Y/n) doesn't find him like that. I don't want him to be traumatized by some pest." Reo commented as Gagamaru nodded.

"I am sure someone will find him before he does, and if not, we will keep him away from the shower room."

"You better." Nagi side eyed as Karasu yawned.

"Do you all think they started eating without us?"

"Probably. (Y/n) loves food, so I am sure he is eating at least." Barou nodded his head at Tokimitsu's statement and spoke up again.

"Let's just hurry up now! I miss (Y/n)."

The rest nodded their heads and quickly changed their clothes and packed the dirty one away to get rid of it. After all, they can't have their captain see blood of a no name guy.

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asahicore · 4 months

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falling asleep with treasure !!

pairing. bf!treasure x reader genre. established relationship, fluff <//3 and crack (??) word count. 1.7k author's note. this has been sitting unfinished in my drafts for so long omg.. thank u to that one anon for remembering it existed and sending me an ask about it lmao! i had gotten this idea randomly thinking about clingy junkyu and then boom... this mess of a reaction slash headcanon slash idk thing came to life. hope u enjoy! it was also an excuse to use those photos of doyoung cz hes so cutie pie in them

fall asleep cuddling, drift apart while sleeping, wake up, notice you’re not cuddling, start cuddling again, and repeat - hyunsuk

hyunsuk gives off healthy mature long-term relationship vibes to me okay. i feel like a lot of couples that have been together for a while end up not cuddling while sleeping but rather get into their own comfortable sleeping positions, and then throughout the night, even though you’re so sleepy you’re barely conscious, when you realize that you’re not cuddling, you scooch back into each other’s arms. he always hits snooze on the alarm at least once in the morning just to get ten extra minutes of being with you before having to get up.

you both wake up stinky and sweaty every single time - jihoon

and it's because the two of you fall asleep in your cuddling position (usually you as the little spoon or resting your head on his chest, but you force him to let you spoon him sometimes), and then you don't. move. not an inch. if it gets too hot, one of you throws the blankets away, or gets rid of their pajama pants, or regains enough consciousness during the night to turn the fan on, but under no circumstances will you break away from your cuddling position - unless it is to get into another cuddling position, of course. it's quite nice, but it means that morning showers are obligatory, because you both smell atrocious after a night of being stuck to each other like glue on paper.

you’re not his partner, you’re his personal pillow - yoshi

you know those anime body pillows? yup. that's what you become when yoshi wants to cuddle. he gives me major cuddler vibes, so you’ll have tried every position in the book, but his favorite is definitely the one where he gets to use to your chest as a pillow and you graze your fingernails against his scalp. he’s got a leg hiked up over your hips and has his arms circling your waist and holding you tight. you can’t move. nothing will have him falling asleep as fast as that. your voice is like a lullaby to him, so he especially likes it if you talk to him in a low voice while he drifts off to sleep. he’s so happy he could fall asleep with a smile on his face. he’s so cute i’m going to off myself

you can’t escape the death hold he has on you - junkyu

a big portion of your time hanging out with junkyu is spent napping. something that surprises you every time is how even though he isn’t the touchiest of boyfriends, if you fall asleep cuddling, you literally cannot move unless you wake him up and make him let you go. forget going to the toilet when you wake up in the morning or getting a snack during your afternoon nap: if junkyu has you in his grip, you cannot escape. he doesn’t even seem to notice: he just wakes up with an innocent smile on his face, saying “oh, you’re awake, y/n?” even though you’ve been trying to discreetly untangle yourself from him for the past thirty minutes.

*cutely drools on you* - jaehyuk

now i could NOT tell you why but jaehyuk gives me like… snorer and drooler vibes 😭 but like in a cute way okay… once he falls asleep he’s just out like a light, he can’t help it. he’s like those cartoon characters that sleep with their mouths wide open and there’s a bit of saliva at the corner of their lips. and they’re very light snores that are fun to record and embarrass him with. if you didn’t love him so much, it might give you the ick. but anyways, in terms of cuddling i see him as a mix of everyone above in a way; he loves both holding you close to him and being in your arms, he loves both rubbing your back or you playing with his hair, he loves falling asleep while cuddling but he’s also happy if you need more space and just have, like, your feet or hands touching. as long as you’re next to him he knows he’ll sleep well <3

wakes up every time you so much as move a finger - asahi

any asahi lore expert such as myself will know that asahi is a very light sleeper. i think for him cuddling is more of an activity than a way of falling asleep if that makes sense? like he’ll do it when you’re watching something, or when you’re talking and want to be physically close at the same time, but he just can’t fall asleep while cuddling. he also sweats easily, so the added warmth would just make it not fun for him 😭he’d do it for you if you really wanted it, but he’d rather just hold hands while sleeping or something like that. you’d also feel sorry for him with how often he woke up during the night, even if it was just for a few seconds, everytime you moved around too noisily or snored. he also always wakes up before you, and you’d need to have a conversation with him about how you’d rather wake up with him next to you rather than wake up without him, only to find him in the kitchen making breakfast for you :( he just wants to do something nice for him, but you’d rather be able to kiss him first thing in the morning!!!! sorry my bias is showing a bit

watches you while you sleep for so long it becomes creepy - doyoung

oh this boy 😭 if he falls asleep after you or wakes up before you, you just know he's going to be propping himself up on his elbow, gazing down at you with soft eyes and a fond smile because you're just the prettiest person in the world to him, and there's nothing else he'd rather be looking at. and he isn’t rattled in the slightest if you catch him doing it, too. he'll just smile wider and say "hey, baby" or "sleep well?", that fucker. it's lowkey creepy, but it's doyoung, so it's okay. it’s a bit jarring at first, locking eyes with someone right when you wake up, but you get used to it. i see him as similar to jaehyuk in the sense that he’s happy to fall asleep, cuddling or not cuddling, in whatever way you prefer. he’d probably like to fall asleep facing you so that he could see your face right as he woke up (in a lovely, enamored way, not in a creepy way!) 👍

keeps you from falling asleep but grumpy when you try to wake him up - jeongwoo

jeongwoo seriously gives me tired all day until it's time to go to bed vibes, like he'll usually be chill with bursts of energy here and there but in the evening he's like a cat with the zoomies. it's like 11pm and you're just trying to fall asleep because you have class or work the next day but your boyfriend is bouncing all over the room and talking a hundred words a minute, keeping you awake way past your bedtime. it's kinda cute sometimes, but most of the time, you want to suffocate him with your pillow. usually, though, he'll calm down if he sees you're really tired, or if you force him to stay in your arms and start threading your hands through his hair or rub patterns against his back - that really calms him down. he becomes super quiet instantly and can even fall asleep like that. but dear lord, when that alarm rings the next morning, you do not want to talk to him for the following fifteen minutes. he is so grumpy and sleepy in the morning, i just know. it's impossible to get him out of bed and you've just learnt to get up yourself and wait for him to wake up - although it's better to check that he hasn't fallen back asleep (which he usually has). he just keeps groaning for five more minutes and buries his head in his pillow to block the light out, but if you press a kiss to his cheek or forehead, that usually gets him to open his eyes and start smiling, then ask for a proper good morning kiss on the lips. this kid is annoying as hell, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

forgets his size and rests his whole body on you - haruto

haruto is like those big dogs that have no idea they're so big and wonder why they can't just lay on top of you. “it's because you're suffocating me, ruto! you're too heavy to rest your whole weight on me.” when you'd told him that, he pouted so hard and had seemed so genuinely upset that you apologized, took him back in your arms and simply neglected your need to breathe for a little longer. he is also one hundred percent that guy who will deny wanting cuddles or any sort of skinship, but if you don’t give it to him, he will be mad at you. if you do give it to him, he’ll pretend he doesn’t like it. you just have to be a mind reader, i guess. all this to say that even if he doesn’t tell you outright, haruto definitely wants to cuddle to sleep. sure, you can fall asleep in his arms if you really want (he loves it), but he’d rather fall asleep on you like yoshi does, even though he’s way too heavy for that.

you fight every time you have to decide who gets to be the little spoon - junghwan

my son.. do you guys know that “thank you myson!” jimin meme… anyways… junghwan might have buffed up over the years but do not get him wrong, that man is a little spoon until the day he dies. if you are also the little spoon, you will have to fight. simple as that. you can decide if it’ll be a tickle fight, an argument where you try to prove why you defend to be the little spoon more, or an actual fist fight (you might lose though), you’ll have to settle it one way or another. no matter how much both of you try to deny it, you love it either way anyway. as much as you love the feeling of his arms around you, there’s something about holding such a big man in your arms like he’s half the size that he is.

permanent taglist: @k-ingzo @bbujiikseu @sunghoonmybeloved @lalalalawon @sd211 @w3bqrl @raikea10 @wntrnghts @moonlighthoon @4imhry @rikisly @loves0ft @iamliacamila @theboingsuckerasseater9000 @chaechae-23 @baekhyuns-lipchain @hyuckslvr @vernonburger @amorbonbon @fluerz @bucketofhiros (ask to be removed/added!)

treasure taglist: @mosviqu @nunoozi

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gojos-thot-patrol · 1 year

Note

🌶️ nsfw HCs for jjk men 🥵 general sexy times~ what are they like in bed?

ooo, IVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS ONE!!! TURN IT UPPPPP!!!

Now Presenting...

Starring Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Kento Nanami, and Ryomen Sukuna.

Sugru Geto

Cigarettes and feelings keep me Laughing when everything is all fucked up

C O R R U P T I O N K I N K DO YOU HEAR ME?!

He sees himself as dirty and ruined and he needs to see that in you too.

His loves how you look when you’re choking on his cock

He loves it so much he’s gonna take a picture! He’s big on recording you in your most vulnerable moments

Mirror on the ceiling so you can watch him fuck you stupid

I hope you have a degradation kink cause he's going to call you his stupid fucking whore

But hey! At least you’re his stupid fucking whore!

He needs to push your limits. He needs to see how far you’re willing to go for him, and what you're willing to do to get his praise.

Unlike in your daily life, his praise is rare in the bedroom. That’s what makes it so intoxicating when he finally does give it out. You’re still going to have to work for it though.

CONTROVERSIAL TAKE: he hates to be called daddy. Call him literally anything else, but the moment you say “Daddy” he’s over it

Now Sir on the other hand? Sir will always make him act up, use it strategically, lest you get pounded in a dirty bathroom.

He gives me the vibes of someone that would convince you to drop ex or acid then fuck him for a “religious experience.”

IDK maybe that's just me seeing the cult leader in him.

All of that being said, I also think Suguru has mastered the art of aftercare

During the act he’s a monster, but after? Nothing but praise and love. He’s worshiping your body while cleaning you up, cuddling with you for as long as you’ll let him.

You need water? He’s getting it. You want a bath? Say no more he’s running it for you.

He never wants you to think he’s just using you for your body.

Even if he is.

Satoru Gojo

Set my alarm, turn on my charm That's because I'm a good old-fashioned loverboy

My most controversial Gojo take is that he’s actually not all that experienced

This man has spent his entire life either as a child or raising a child he didn’t have a lot of time for romance.

Not only that, but having sex with someone is an inherently vulnerable position to put yourself in. Man’s got too many enemies for that.

BUT that does not mean that he isn't willing to learn for you!

Gojo is above all else adaptable, and his main goal in the bedroom is to get you off. He’s willing to do whatever you need.

Honestly, that’s probably his kink. Overstimulation. He wants to make you feel so good you're delirious, he wants to make you cum so hard you forget anything other than his name.

He is the king of oral. It’s his favorite thing, eating you out through multiple orgrasam until his face is soaked in you. And he’s good at it too. He knows exactly how to make you melt under him.

His dick isn’t thick, but it is long, and weirdly pretty for a cock. He also uses a ring light to take dick pics. Tell me he doesn’t, you can’t.

He’s also very vocal. He likes when you're loud, it’s how he knows he’s doing something right. So, he’s pretty vocal as well, wanting to let you know just how amazing you make him feel

when he's not telling you about how good you feel, he's kissing you. He LOVES kissing you, its like a drug to him.

Gojo struggles a lot with the feeling that people don’t really like him, so he has a praise kink. On both the giving AND receiving end

I also feel like he’s really into lingerie, and has no problems dropping a paycheck on a new set for you.

Definition of “There’s a difference between fucking someone and making love.”

God, I hate that phrase but I'm genuinely not sure how else to get my point across lmao

When ya’ll are just fucking, he tries to play the part of a big tough dom, dirty talk galore, overstimulation to the point of tears, the man is a beast.

But in your quiet moments, when you’re, for lack of a better word, making love, there’s a 63% chance he's going to cry.

He gets overwhelmed by his love for you, and the realization that you love him for him, 6 eyes or not. It gets to him.

And the best part? He’s not even embarrassed by it, because you don’t shame him for it. He’s truly safe with you

Kento Nanami

Hey pretty baby can you feel that heat? You got me twitchin to the edge of my seat

Dare I say daddy kink?

I do, I do dare. Nanami knows the type of person he attracts (riddled with daddy issues) and has decided to play into it.

I feel like Nanami never loses his composure, even in the bedroom. He could be giving you the ride of your LIFE while calmly explaining the stock market to you. It’s part of why teacher Nanami is so appealing to me I’M SORRY-

“Are you paying attention? This is going to be on the test.”

He says as he's skullfucking you into oblivion

Despite his calm composure, he's big on dirty talk…mostly as a way to ask for consent and gauge how you’re doing at the moment. He’s still Nanami

“You like that Princess?” “Beg for me.” “Tell me what you want,” All phrases that pop up commonly in your bedroom

He’s a panty snatcher, there I said it. He’s taking your panties with him when he leaves your place. You can get them back the next time you two get together.

He is prone to taking out his frustration on you in the bedroom when he’s had a bad day.

Not that you're complaining, nothing like his thick cock splitting you open after a rough day, amiright?

Public sex. Nanami loves covertly fucking you, in various ways, and watching you try to keep your composure. Be it him finger fucking you under the table, or reminding you that you have guests downstairs while he rails you in your bedroom, he likes to test your volume control.

In a similar vein, phone sex! He’s away on “Business” a lot, so late nights on the phone with you are basically a necessity for him.

M A R K I N G. You think it’s childish? He doesn’t fucking care he needs EVERYON to know you’re together

Hickies everywhere, dark ones that don’t budge for days, even weeks

Brat tamer. No, I won't explain, look at him.

He’s probably the best dom, even if he is a softer dom. He's going to discuss your hard and soft limits, safe word, and discuss the red yellow green system. Your comfort and safety is his number one priority.

Going hand in hand with that, Nanami has mastered the art of aftercare. Anything you need, he’s got, anything you need him to do, he’s doing. He’s showering you in words of affirmation while trying to rehydrate you.

Also He’s cuddly. He wants you to fall asleep resting on his chest while he traces lazy patterns in your back. It’s his ideal way to go to sleep.

Ryomen Sukuna

My whole existence is flawed You get me closer to God

BESTIE idk how many different ways I can tell you not to go near this man, but let's find out

For one, he’s incredibly selfish, prioritizing his pleasure over yours every time.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t at least try to get you off though. Nay nay, getting you off is a part of his pleasure. Because it strokes his ego.

Daycraphillia. Be it from pleasure or pain, he loves to see your tear soaked face.

This man is PACKING btw. It hurts at first everytime no matter how ready you are for him. The king of curses has the dick to back up all the shit he talks, you can’t convince me otherwise

He’s got four hands and he’s gonna use them all. Fingers in your pussy, on your tits, in your mouth, in on your ass. You're going to feel like you’re drowning in him.

Degradation. You're a filthy little whore, the only thing you’re good for is being a hole for him to fuck.

Does he actually mean this? I mean…shit, maybe! Depends on where you’re at in the relationship honestly.

He will summon mouths in random places when fucking you. On his palms, above his cock, anywhere. Be prepared to feel a random tongue in random places.

…..breeding kink.

Honestly, I don’t think he’s proud of it. But something in him wants to fuck an heir into more than he wants to breath.

Also, blood and marking kink. These go hand in hand as far as he’s concerned. He will bite you until you bleed with no issue.

He may not truly love you yet but the moment he stuck his dick in you, you became his. Which means no other man can touch you. Hence why he clearly marks you as his.

Aftercare who? He doesn’t know her, you’re lucky if he doesn’t immediately kick you out of the bed when he’s done.

The exception being if you somehow managed to rope him into a “real” relationship. I still don’t think he’d be an aftercare king or anything, but he would at least cuddle with you until you passed out.

Sukuna likes to find your limits, and then push you past them. He needs to see how far you’re willing to go for him, even if that breaks you.

God, this mf is so toxic. Why do I love him?

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bakugoushotwife · 10 months

Note

hiii!!! i rlly enjoy your writing 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

oml ok idk how requests work but like, can i request sum for gojo? like sum smutty ;)

maybe something like make up sex ;))) honestly you have like sm freedom writing it because i jus need some make up sex w gojo 😩😩

tysmmm!! hope you’re having a great night

a/n: yeah we need to kiss for this one bestie !! no but i love what this turned into, i was stumped over what to make them fight about so luckily the beautiful @getosbigballsack saved the DAY! <3 i love u babies!! gojo looked so scrumptious in the episode i literally have not stopped thinking about him so please take this brain rot and enjoy it

summary: you've gone and spent your allowance too soon, and now your husband is home to deal with it.

cw: y'all-- uh established relationship, gojo, he's kinda mean at times ngl, spanking, dacryphilia, oral (m receiving) facefucking, cowgirl, , pet names, daddy kink, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, they are married i swear

wc: 3746 unedited

Allowance // Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

“Hi baby! Welcome home!” You sing happily, getting up from the dining room table to meet your husband at the door as he enters. You smooth down the ruffles of your new dress, excited to show off what you bought with him in mind. When you round the corner, you come face-to-face with a less than excited Satoru Gojo.

You stop in your tracks, his glare was intense and you knew that meant only one thing: you’re in trouble. He continues to stare at you silently, setting his keys down on the table with a loud clunk. He slipped out of his shoes, all while his icy gaze narrowed in your direction.

“What did you do today?” He asks knowingly, giving you one chance to answer truthfully before he enacted his punishment.

You start to wring your hands. You knew what this was about of course, but you had hoped to get yourself off the hook. You turn on your best pout, blinking up at him with your perfected sad puppy eyes, your long lashes only making your pout prettier. “Awh, ‘Toru, listen–” You try sweetly, to no avail.

“Ah, ah. Answer me.” He interrupts, to which you promptly shut your mouth. You brought this on yourself, you really did. You avert your gaze as he sits in his chair in the living room. The cushioned seat around him made him look like a King on his throne, staring down at his Queen forebodingly. Even his posture is intimidating; his arms folded over his chest and long legs extended far in front of him, one foot tapping expectantly.

“Did you lose your voice?” He asks, tilting his head to the side, taking in your appearance. You look angelic as always, and he knew that was a new dress. It fits you perfectly, he must admit, tight at your chest and waist and barely covering your ass. The color was striking against your skin. God, you made this difficult. He was glowering with anger, more aptly called sexual frustration and desire. He had all the intentions of punishing your behavior. You were both busy all week, making it the longest he’s gone without you aside from work related trips. In an effort to make up for his absences and tardies, he gave you your full allowance two days early.

He really does enjoy spoiling you, giving you an insane amount of money every week just for you to spend on clothes and shoes. All your hair and nails and lashes and waxes were paid for, whatever you wanted, you got it. However, there were certain rules. His sweet little house-wife wanted for nothing, and he would have it no other way. But you have to show your gratitude, because of him you haven’t worked in years. You have to make your allowance last until your next one, just because he knew you were impulsive and couldn’t do that every time, no matter the amount he gave you. Your tastes grew more and more expensive with every deposit in your bank account, though most of it was spent on beautiful outfits and gorgeous lingerie that only he would consume. You blew it all this time in one day, a new record.

You shake your head, eyes trained on the floor. “No, I didn’t..”

“No, what?” He arches his brow, waiting.

“No daddy.” You correct yourself, swaying from side to side in your pretty little dress, showing how the material flowed out around you. “ ‘M sorry daddy, really…jus wanted to get all pretty for you.”

Your pout truly was magical, your sweet face trying to bail you out of your punishment. He watched the skirt move for a minute, eyes trailing down your exposed legs and onto the new Alexander McQueen heels hugging your feet. So that’s where most of your money went. Undeniably, the shoes were made for his princess, but that was besides the point right now. All prettied up you were indeed, and he would make good use of it.

“You know the rules, baby girl.” He says sternly, even the use of one of his many pet names for you seemed harsh. He spread his legs a little more in front of him, waiting for you to behave. His stance and authoritative tone made your pussy throb immediately. You did feel bad for making him angry, but you knew you wouldn’t necessarily dislike your punishment either, in fact you were looking forward to it.

You stepped toward him, heels clicking against the beautiful hardwood floors of the Gojo home. He offered one hand out to you, the other supporting his cheek as if he was growing bored from waiting. Your perfectly manicured fingers wrap around his slender ones and your cheeks start to warm, a knot growing in your stomach in anticipation. You step up onto the arm of his chair with your knees, getting your balance before laying across his lap, your elbows propped up on the other arm of the chair. He watched you with dilated pupils, all your effort to make him want you worked like a charm, as if you needed to do anything special in the first place. It had been a long week, followed by this stunt? You were definitely in for it this time. He hisses when he bunches the skirt of your dress in his fist, revealing a lacy and barely-there thong.

You smirk to yourself now that he can’t see your face. You knew he liked it, you could feel his approval for the way you look poking into your stomach right now. You wiggle your ass for him, a soft giggle escaping your lips. That quickly turns to a gasp when his large hand smacks down on your skin, making your asscheek sting immediately. The surprise makes you jump forward a little bit, and he doesn’t hesitate to jerk you back. He gives an equally hard slap to your other cheek, and the pain is sweet. You like the way it burns paired with his satisfied grunts as he watches your recoil each time.

“Aren’t you supposed to be counting?” He reminds, not much of a question at all. His typical grin is replaced by a dark smirk as he applies another spank to your backside.

“Three.” You hum, wiggling in his lap inadvertently. He chuckles at the sight of you, shaking his head. You’ve only given him one option, to increase the rate and intensity.

“What a bad girl I have. Disappointing daddy like this.” He clicks his tongue. You whip your head around at this, you weren’t a bad girl! You just wanted to dress up for him, you couldn’t help that the rules were gonna keep you from doing that! He’s pouting when you look at him, really putting on a show. The force of his slap makes you squeal this time, and you can almost feel the handprint branding in.

“Nuh-uh!” You protest, heartbroken by his words. He keeps you from arguing it further with another harsh spank, burning the skin and making tears prickle your vision.

“Yes-huh.” He mocks, another spank. “You can’t even count like you’re supposed to. Such a naughty thing. Makes me so sad.” He sighs, eyes glued to the darkening skin of your rear. He was in fact leaving handprints, and he loved the way it looked.

“Six!” You call out to make up for the ones you’ve missed, your brain getting scrambled under the gorgeous pain and his mean speech. Your body was consumed in heat, your panties growing uncomfortable against your soaked middle. “Daddy, I swear ‘m sorry! I didn’t mean’ta disappoint you!” You pout, the last words coming off your tongue in horror. He doesn’t accept the apology, another smack rippling across your sore ass. “Seven!” Your chin wobbles.

“Go ahead and cry. Maybe if you cry for Daddy, I’ll forgive you.” He grins, hand coming down on you once more. “You’ll have to make it up to me, since you’re such a spoiled brat. Why would you ignore my rules unless you were a bad girl? This isn’t even a punishment for you, look how wet you are!” He teases, clicking his tongue as his fingers press against your clothed hole. You can hear the squelch of yourself, lewd and loud and the only sound other than his sadistic chuckles. “Tell me you like it, angel. Tell me the truth…”

“Eight,” You whimper, writhing in his hold now. The pain was turning your vision white in the corners, but you still didn’t want him to stop. He was right, you were a bad girl for spending all your money in one day, you could have picked less expensive pieces, but you wanted to push Satoru to his limit. You sniffle, the tears welling up so big they cloud the rest of your vision. Your ass is almost numb when you feel his hand again. “Nine! ‘M sorry, imma bad girl ‘n I love your spankin’s..” You whine, fat tears finally rolling down your cheeks.

He hums, reaching for your chin so he can see your face, cheeks red and lip nearly bleeding from how hard you’ve been biting down on it. Your tears make you even prettier, coating your lashes and making your eyes glossy. He loves it, watching your sweet tears fall off your face to be absorbed by the fabric of his armchair. “Can you make it to ten, dollface?”

He asks, gently wiping a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “That could make it up to Daddy.” He hums softly, though his ultimate concern is your limit, and you know that too. You nod, if you’ve made it this far one more won’t break you. He smiles brightly, patting your cheek gently and letting your face go in favor of one last punishing spank of your bruised flesh. He rubs the skin after, trying to soothe it while he thinks of what he’s going to do to you next.

Your eyes close under his now gentle pressure. Your ass pulsates and your pussy throbs with need, your biggest concern now was earning back your husband’s favor.

“Ten. “m really sorry, I mean it! Wanna make it up to you, really make it up to you..” You breathe apologetically, waiting to move until he tells you that you can.

He hums at your sweet apologeticness. His princess truly owns his heart, and he could never stay angry with you. His anger melted the second he saw you, but he had to follow through on his word. Plus, it was fun to see you so ruined like this. He wonders what you may have in mind, so he arches his brow and waits for you to speak.

“Let me suck your cock, Daddy. Please?” Your voice was permanently warped into a pouty whine it seems. He chuckles at your suggestion, how could he ever turn that down?

“Go ahead angel, just for a bit. I’m gonna breed my brat.” He says dauntingly, gently pushing you off his lap. His hands support your waist as you lower yourself to the floor between his legs. His bulge was staring at you, painfully restrained by his pants. You pouted up at him and shook your head, reaching for his button and zipper.

He hummed at your attentiveness, leaning up so you could drag his pants and boxers off. You giggle softly as his member slapped up against his abdomen upon release. You look at his dick with awe. It was just as pretty as the rest of him, long and curved just to abuse your sweet spots. His tip was an angry purplish-red, and pre-cum beaded at his slit. You licked your lips and looked up at him, dainty and soft hand wrapping around his lengthy shaft. You could barely close your hand around him, fingers far from touching. He took his own bottom lip in his mouth to keep from sighing, your hand alone tremendous relief.

He fights the urge to close his eyes, wanting to watch his sweet brat take him. His hands grip the arms of the chair, the suede fabric the only other identifiable feeling other than your warm throat gripping around him. He was heavy in your mouth, tip poking at the back of your throat with inches left to swallow. You decide to bob your head along what you have so far, eyes fluttering closed so you can focus on the feeling of his ridges rubbing against your tastebuds. Your throat relaxes, letting you take in the rest of him with a gentle moan, the vibration sending shockwaves through his body. He wondered if you could feel his cock pulse the same way he does, watching cute tears run down your cheeks again, no doubt pushing your skills to accommodate him. He needs more of you, his cock never deep enough. You look so beautiful, rubbing your legs together to relieve your own ache for him, he can’t help but moan out too, reaching for a hold fashioned of your hair.

“You can’t go so slow, princess. I thought you were going to make it up to me?” He smirks, forcing your head along him. You gag around him and he makes an animalistic growl, striving for that choking noise again. He fucks into your face just as hard as he pushes your head down. You have to hold his thighs, digits gripping his lean legs for your life. He giggles at your struggle, though he knows you’re more than happy to please him. He keeps going until he hears that gurgle again, the sign of your struggle to take all of him in. Tears roll freely down your cheeks at this point, your mouth just a hole being used.

He pulls you off of him, relishing in the saliva coating your lips and the heaving of your chest. “Climb aboard.” He hums, looking down at his painful erection and back up at you, his perfect princess but bumbling brat. “Take the dress off though.” He adds with a scrunch of his nose, anxious to see your perfect body under the pretty dress.

You nod and peel the dress off, discarding it into a pile in the floor. You slid out of your heels as well, thinking it wise with your task ahead. His eyes grow wide at the sight of you, a matching lacy blue bra cupping his favorite breasts. “It’s pretty, princess. You’re gorgeous, need you to come sit on me.” He wiggles his eyebrows, watching tentatively as you unlatch your bra and let it fall to the floor as well. “You might as well take the panties off too, then.” He grins, pearly white and sharp teeth sparkling at you.

You grin as well, bending over to slide the soaked garment off, throwing them at him with a giggle. He catches them, sticking his tongue out to taste your arousal off the soiled center. He hold your eyes the entire time, crystalline half-lidded orbs putting a spell on you. You shudder at his intensity, humming as you crawl back into the chair. He tosses your panties over his shoulder, licking his lips from your taste. His only focus is you. Your thighs straddle his hips, his weeping member already poking at your slick entrance. He just grins and places his hands on your hips, pulling you down to take him all at once. You gasp, the sharp burn of him against your womb was a feeling you never adjusted to.

It was one he loved, both the feeling of your suffocating walls clenching and unclenching around him and the look of pleasure on your face before you’ve even started to move. He smiles, knowing how to get under your skin just like you did with him. He pulls his touch back, folding his arms behind his head. He looks up at you, eyes wild with mischief, tendrils of his shaggy white hair splaying over his muscular arms and the fabric of the chair to create a beautiful contrast. “This is your punishment, princess. Gotta do all the work yourself or I’m not gonna touch you.”

You whine, bracing yourself on his chest. “So mean, Daddy.” You puff your cheeks, but start to slowly bounce on his lap, the pleasure of him bumping against your pleasure spot already making it hard to keep your pacing consistent.

“I can show you mean, if you say that again.” He threatens, though his features display amusement. He does find it adorable that you can’t keep yourself together past a few cute bounces, inflating his ego even more so. He has to fight the urge to take control, though he’s not sure he can do it much longer with your pathetic attempts at riding him. It’s his idea of a joke, making his pretty little brat take the top for once. It was clear who took care of you, and that alone was making your cheeks warm in embarrassment.

As if you could read his thoughts, you bite down on your lower lips and commit to thirty seconds or so of consistent bouncing. Your face scrunches up in frustration, and your perfect pout is back on display.

“Aw, baby girl, what’s wrong? Can’t fuck yourself the same way Daddy does?” He hums curiously, his pretty pink lips curling into a grin.

You shake your head, letting your head fall forward into his neck. “No Daddy, I can’t.” You admit, defeated by his blatant show of his dominance over you.

He chuckles, patting your hair lovingly. “Aw, now that’s okay sweetheart. I’ll take care of you like I always do.” He gently reminds, bringing his hands back to hold your waist. He stands up with you, walking a short trek until your back smacks against the living room wall. He grins cheekily when you wrap your arms around his neck. He shifts his hands to support the underside of your thighs, and you know he has the strength and the stamina to hold you here until he’s satisfied.

“Now, much better.” He hums in your ear, looking down at where your pussy swallows him up. He pulls himself out to the tip, plunging into your cavern without a second passing in between these actions. He does it over and over, enjoying the way your body relaxes now that he’s back in control, as if he wasn’t to begin with. You’re still clutching him for dear life, but he’s used to that. Your face softens, only pleasure in your mind. He loves seeing you like this, being the reason you’re so blissful. He groans at how easy it is to slide in and out of you, dripping wet for him and he didn’t even have to work you to that point. “You’re still Daddy’s good girl, gripping me so tight like that.”

You moan at his praise, continuously squeezing down on his length to make him happy. He fills you up so perfectly, his pace starting to increase, your head rolling back against the wall as well. He bites at your neck, the column just too delicious to ignore. Your moans amplified, and he could feel your throat vibrate under his teeth. He leaves marks on your jaw too, sucking deep hickies all over your dainty flesh.

“This is how you’re prettiest, princess, these are my favorite decorations.” He says in reference to his teeth marks and bruises covered in saliva that pepper any skin he had access to. His breath grows heavy, the feeling of it fanning over your new markings makes your skin tingle and goosebumps spring up in place. Your cunt only grows tighter as he fucks the shape of him into it, making him sigh happily.

You can only speak in jumbled whispers of his name and moans, never more grateful for support than you are for the wall behind you, the ability to hold yourself upright long gone. Your hands slide up to tug on his hair, the feeling of his silky tresses giving you something to focus on. His pretty noises feel like a reward after what you’ve done, deep grunts and breathy moans gifted directly into your ear.

“It’s been so long, princess. Didn’t get to have you all week, then you go and disobey me.” He clicks his tongue and grins at you. “I think you just wanted Daddy’s attention, hm? Did you just miss me angel?” He teases, the force of him making your body jump up and slide back down the wall at every thrust.

You do your best to nod, and Satoru knows you’re past the point of being able to speak coherently. He was splitting you in half, you could feel him in your stomach and it burned so deliciously. “Mhm.. missed daddy s’much.” You wail, the rubberband in your stomach was stretched, so much tension that was about to snap and leak out all over him.

He knows this, of course, trying to time his release with your own. As mean as he could be sometimes, your pleasure was still his goal, and he wanted you to reward him for all his work. “Go ahead, princess. I wanna feel it, go ahead and come for Daddy.” He coaxes with gentle kisses to the bruises he made. “I’ll give you mine if you give me yours.” He purrs, watching your eyes roll back with a satisfied grin.

You cry out, knuckles turning white under your grip on Satoru’s shoulders. You nod in acknowledgement of his words, and he can feel you spasm around him to signify your release. He coos loving words to you, eyes glued on your cream creating a ring around the base of his dick. It’s so satisfying, watching you jerk with sensitivity and struggle to hold on. He loves this, his cock jumping inside you before his cum coats your insides. You swear it's in your guts, fee

ling impaled by his cock still pinning you to the wall. His head rests against the cool wall beside yours, but you can see the smile on his face. You smile too, breathing heavily and your brain feels like it’s floating in your skull. You know if he set you down right now that you would fall to the ground, legs still shaking in his hands.

“I think you’ve learned a valuable lesson, princess.” He coos, pressing his lips gently to your forehead. He snakes his arms around your waist before he begins walking with you again, this time towards your shared room. “We can review for the rest of the night, just to be sure you really understand.” He adds, smirking cheekily. “And I’ll go to the bank tomorrow, just promise Daddy you’ll be smarter with your money.” He says with an affectionate slap to your ass while all your weight is supported in his other arm.

“I promise Daddy.” You hum, hugging his neck and pressing your upper half against him. You absolutely would spend all your money the very next day if it means you get this punishment again.

#gojo x reader #jjk x reader #kyleewritesjjk #satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo is the love of my life #no seriously #i cannot stop thinking about him #its getting to a mental illness level i think #gojoitis #im trying to do my JOB and can't all i see is basketball gojo #how am i supposed to live life normally again #live laugh lobotomy

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thekinghazzastyles · 3 days

Text

i take my whiskey neat | eddie munson x black!reader

(anyone can read, no real description)

summary: you're new to hawkins and are invited to a party when someone catches your eye. [2.9k]

warnings: mutual pining, suggestive content (no smut (I tried but I literally cannot lmao)), drinking, smoking, weed, language, no spoilers, no upside down, bold!reader, fem!reader

a/n: this has the possibility of having a part 2 which would most likely be smut but I've never written it and idk if I can lol. if enough people beg for it maybe I can muster something up but I can't promise it will be good. omg and PLS listen to the song, it’s the only thing i listened to while writing lol. - Love , H <3

You had spent most of your time since you’d left your house for this party, smoking a cigarette outside. Being the new girl and going to parties had its ups and downs. As you finished your first cigarette and went to grab your second you were stopped.

“You’re not gonna have another one of those are you?” You looked up to see a guy with long curly black hair, smiling at you as he walked over to where you were standing. You hadn’t seen him at school during the week and he was not one of the guys that Robin, your “self-appointed tour guide” as she called herself, had mentioned, you definitely would’ve remembered a smile like that.

“What else do you suggest I smoke?” you asked, challenging him.

“Well I mean I have other plants, if you’re interested.” He said, shaking his metal lunchbox in your face.

“Oh yeah?” you questioned, smirking at him.

“Yeah,” he smirked back.

“For how much?”

“For you gorgeous, it’s on the house,” he flirted.

“Not that I’m complaining, but why?”

“Well for one, you’re new here and I suspect that it’s part of the reason as to why you have yet to head inside.”

“How do you know I’m new?”

“It’s a small town, sweetheart. And I’ve only just started seeing you at school.”

“You go to Hawkins High?”

“Yeah… why?”

“Oh, no reason, I just feel like I would’ve noticed you.”

“You would’ve noticed me?” he asked, a look of surprise on his face as he pointed to himself as he didn’t believe someone who looked like you, would notice him.

“Uhh, yeah, you’re hot.”

“Yeah?” He smirked, you could feel his confidence oozing off of him as he got closer. So close you could feel his breath on your lips. He smelt like weed, cigarettes, and cheap cologne.

“Yeah,” you responded, getting even closer. He held up the joint and you took it from his hands. You looked down at it as you twirled it between your fingers. “You gonna make me smoke alone?” you asked, looking up at him through your lashes. He didn’t respond but instead he took out a lighter and held it up to the joint. You put it between your lips and inhaled as he held the lighter to the other end. You pulled the joint from your lips and proceeded to blow the smoke out to the side. “You never told me your name,” you said, passing the joint off to him.

He took a deep inhale and held it in for a little before tilting his head up towards the sky and blowing it out. It gave you a better chance to look at him before he brought his eyes back to you, he smirked as he handed you the joint back as he caught you staring at his hands. “It’s Eddie,” he said with a chuckle.

“Y/N.” It didn’t take long before the joint was reduced down to its filter. You took a deep breath before you came to the conclusion that it was time to head inside. “I’ll see you inside?” you asked, making your way up to the door. He looked back at you and nodded. You smiled in return and continued inside.

You were immediately ambushed by a drunk Robin who insisted that you both take shots.

“Robin, you are cut off for the night,” a voice said from behind her. He had hair that seemed to be defying gravity and was a lot less drunk than the other attendees. “I can’t make her drink alone, Steve,” Robin responded, slurring her words which made you chuckle. His eyes were brought to you at the sound. His eyebrows raised as if he were asking you who you were.

“Y/N, I’m new, Robin invited me. I hope it’s okay?”

“So you’re the new girl Robin won’t shut up about. “She’s so cool and pretty but she’s not a bitch which is great.”” He spoke as if he were mimicking Robin which earned him a fist to his bicep. “Ow- shit Munson’s here, I’ll be right back,” Steve tried to take the shot from Robin as he walked away but it soon turned into a tug-of-war. You instead turned your head to the door to see who Steve was talking about and the only person who caught your eyes was Eddie.

“Is “Munson” Eddie?” You asked, turning back to the two who seemed to be bickering like siblings.

“Yeah, why?” Steve asked.

“I spoke to him outside,” you said, casually which made Robin also turn her head after she secretly took a shot behind Steve’s back. “What did you guys talk about?” she asked, handing you a shot. You gladly took it from her before responding. “Oh, nothing, he just gave me a free joint and we shared it,” you paused before you spoke again. “He’s kinda hot,” you stated, and then you took your shot.

You turned at the silence and found both Robin and Steve staring at you in shock. Both had their jaws dropped and failed to produce any words. “You think Munson, Eddie Munson,” Steve emphasized, “Is hot?” he finished, in shock. Robin on the other hand, had almost completely fallen to the floor in laughter, and would’ve if it weren’t for Steve grabbing her by the arm and pulling her back up.

“Yeah, and what about it?”

“It’s just-,” he cut himself off. “Is there no one else that could check that box for you?” You took a second to look around, scanning the people in attendance. There was one other guy, but for lack of better words, he looked like a dick. Why wear a shirt to a party if you’re going to leave it open? You pointed to him, not caring if he saw, “I mean, he’s hot too, but he looks like a dick,” you said as you turned back to them.

“And is,” Robin said, vigorously nodding.

“And Eddie?” Steve asked, still confused.

“Well he gave me a free joint.”

“Is that all that makes him hot? Because I’m sure you could get free weed from someone else.”

“No that’s not all,” you paused. “He looks like he can fuck.”

“Oh my God, I did not need to hear that,” Steve whispered to himself, shaking his head.

“Oh look who it is,” Robin exclaimed, and before you could find who she was talking about she was calling out to them. “Eddie!” she said as she waved her arm in the air telling him to come over.

Watching Eddie maneuver through the crowd while occasionally stopping to greet some people made him look even hotter. He moved swiftly and calmly. Like he was in his element. Maybe it was all the weed you both smoked, but he looked like he was moving in slow-motion. When he finally got to where the three of you were standing, stopped right next to you with Steve on his other side, he smiled down at you before speaking, “Harrington, Buckley, what can I do for the two of you?”

“Oh nothing,” Robin started. “We just heard that a certain someone thinks you’re-” The rest of her sentence came out muffled, as Steve quickly put his hand over her mouth to stop her. “Thinks I’m what, Robin?” Eddie asked, tilting his head to the side. “Oh,” you started. “She’s talking about how I think you’re hot,” you spoke flatly. Steve and Robin's jaws dropped for the third time that night because of something that had come out of your mouth. This made Eddie turn his head towards you. He looked you up and down before speaking, “Oh I know, sweetheart.” You both held eye contact for seemed like an eternity before turning to Steve and Robin who were silently in shock.

“Yeah I don’t think I can listen to this anymore,” Steve started. And before he could speak again Robin screamed, “Oh my God I love this song! Y/N we have to go dance!” She handed you a drink and grabbed your other hand to drag you to where everyone else was dancing.

“So,” Robin started, speaking into your ear. “What was that look between you and Eddie?”

“I don’t know, you tell me,” you shrugged, continuing to dance. Your eyes scanned the crowd till they landed on Eddie who was already looking at you. You held eye contact for a bit till Robin spoke again.

“Were you serious about what you said before he came over?”

“Oh a hundred percent,” you pause, taking a large gulp of your drink. “That man, looks like he would fuck me like a God.”

Robin was in even more shock than before leading her to also take a large gulp of her drink. “I can tell he’s into you.”

“Really?”

“Oh yeah. You guys have spoken for what, all of ten minutes and he’s already flirting with you.”

“He doesn’t have like a girlfriend or anything, right?” You asked, simply wanting to make sure you weren’t getting in between anything. That was not something you wanted to do within your first month of being in a new town.

“Nope,” she spoke, popping the ‘P’. “He has been single for as long as I’ve known him.” This left you to think more about him as your eyes followed him as the night went on. And the drunker you got, the bolder you got.

***

For the rest of the party, Robin dragged you around introducing you to a few more people along with more shots, and splitting a joint. You found yourselves in Steve’s living room with the rest of the stragglers playing a game. The music had been turned down and the songs had switched to something a little calmer.

It was your turn to pick a card, so you reached to the center of the coffee table and read it aloud, “Pick someone to spit a shot into your mouth or take three shots.” You took a second after looking around at all of the people playing before speaking again, “Can I pick someone who’s not playing?”

“I don’t see why not,” Robin said, turning to you with a smirk as if she knew what you were thinking.

You got up from your spot on the couch making sure to grab a shot glass and the bottle of whiskey. You walked with confidence over to where Eddie and Steve were sitting, talking amongst themselves. When they realized someone had approached them and they both looked up at you but you kept your eyes on Eddie. “Hey,” you smiled at him, tilting your head to the side a bit.

“Hey,” he smiled back.

“Can I ask you for a favor?” you asked sweetly.

“Anything, sweetheart,” he turned toward to focus all of his attention on you.

“You know the game we’re playing?” He nodded. “Well, the card I picked said I have to choose someone to spit a shot into my mouth.”

“And you chose me?” Eddie's eyebrow quirked in surprise, but there was a glint of amusement in his eyes, as if he relished the challenge you presented.

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He slowly stood up to his full height and for the first time that night, you realized how much taller he is than you. He poured the whiskey into the shot glass and as he raised the glass to his lips, you couldn't tear your gaze away from his full lips. He grabbed your face with both hands, the warmth of his touch searing into your skin allowing you to close your eyes. Your pulse thundered in your ears as you parted your lips, a silent invitation that he eagerly accepted. Time seemed to stand still as you savored the taste of him, the tang of whiskey mingling with the heady rush of desire. It was quiet and you both knew that everyone had their eyes on you, but neither of you cared.

You licked your lips once he was done and held eye contact with him. Eddie brought a thumb to your chin to wipe away the alcohol that had dripped down your chin in the process and slowly brought it to his lips. You looked up at him through your lashes and smiled, “Thank you.” He stood speechless, not believing someone, and you at that, let him do that in front of people. Before he realized it, you had grabbed the bottle and returned back to your spot on the couch where the original group of people sat in shock.

“I can’t believe I just watched that,” Robin whispered to herself but loud enough for you to hear. You looked over at Eddie, who was still standing watching you in shock, and winked at him. The both of you kept sneaking glances at one another throughout the rest of the night.

Earlier, Steve had mentioned to you that you could stay overnight and once Robin heard that; it’s safe to say that you could now consider your situation as being held against your will. As the night went on, the only people left were you, Eddie, Robin, Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle. You had quietly retired to the back porch to finish off the last of the joint you and Robin forgot about. You hear the door open knowing it wasn’t Robin or Steve, as Robin had finally succumbed to her excessive drinking and Steve was the one helping her out.

Eddie sat down on the chair next to you and sat so he was facing you. You both had yet to speak so you decided to pass the joint off to him. He gladly took it and placed it in between his lips. For the second time that night, your eyes were focused on his lips. Maybe a little too focused as you didn’t hear a word he had just said. “I’m sorry, what was that?”

He chuckled and shook his head before passing the joint back to you. “I said we put on quite a show earlier, sweetheart.”

“Yeah, we did,” you said, laughing, with smoke coming out of your mouth, passing the joint over to him once again. Eddie wanted to make you laugh over and over again if it meant he got to hear that beautiful sound come from your perfect lips.

“I’m not going to lie though,” he started, taking a puff and releasing it. “I kinda enjoyed it,” he chuckled, bringing his head down and rubbing the back of his neck. Nervously thinking you’d think differently of him because of that.

You gasped and his head shot up, a look of worry on his face. But then you started smiling which soon turned into laughter. “You are a kinky man Eddie,” you said still laughing, and he laughed with you till silence filled the air between you two. “But I guess that would also make me a kinky woman, because I really enjoyed it,” you said with a straight face with a slight smirk appearing the more you looked at him. Soon, the both of you, once again, broke out into laughter.

You and Eddie talked all night and by the time you realized it, the sun was rising. Eddie mentioned that the only way you both could get out of helping clean up was if you left within the hour. You felt bad leaving without saying anything so you left a note for Steve and Robin thanking them and saying that your mom wanted you home. You walked to the party so your plan was to walk back when Eddie offered you a ride, and you didn’t have it in you to object.

***

“Thanks for taking me home, Eddie,” you said to him, as he opened the passenger side door of his van and lent you a hand to assist you.

“It was my pleasure, sweetheart,” he said smiling, as he closed the door behind you.

You both walked up to your door in silence, and then proceeded to stare at one another on your front steps before he spoke again. “Do you wanna go on a date? With me? Thursday night? But if you’re busy I totally get that and if you don’t want to I totally get that too,” he was going to continue rambling on if you hadn’t cut him off.

“I would love to go on a date, with you, on Thursday night, Eddie,” you responded, answering all three of his questions, smiling at him.

“Sweet,” he whispered, smiling at you. “I will see you at school then,” he said as he backed down your stairs.

“Bye Eddie,” you beamed.

“Bye Y/N,” he smiled back. You continued to watch him walk to his car when you realized something. “Oh, Eddie, wait!” He turned around at the sound of your voice only to see you briskly walking towards him. “I forgot something,” and before he could ask what, you pulled him in by his leather jacket for a kiss. It was soft and his reaction was immediate as he pulled you in even closer by your waist. Before the kiss got too intense you pulled away smiling at him as he looked at you in bliss.

“I’ll see you at school,” you smiled. And suddenly you were inside your house and Eddie was left in your driveway staring at the door in shock and excitement.

One thing was for sure, Eddie couldn’t wait for Thursday.

#Eddie munson x black!reader #Eddie munson x black reader #Eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things x black!reader #stranger things x black reader #stranger things #Eddie munson #Steve Harrington #Robin Buckley #thekinghazzastyles #Spotify

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goldeunoias · 1 year

Text

Soft.

A/N: FUCKING REPOST BC TUMBLR FLAGGED IT

this is the only flagged thing i’ve ever gotten and literally it was a chubby reader fic screw thaaaaatttttttt

this is for the kinkiest jay stans out there ngl

@jaylaxies I DID IT

pspspspsp please tell me how it is/do you like members being written this way please 🖤

Word Count: 5.1k (of insanity)

Synopsis: Chubby! Reader x Sugar Daddy! Jay

Warnings: ..........idk even how to like describe it uh, public teasing, semi-ish public teasing, dirty talk, daddy dom jay for the win, multiple orgasms, guided masturbation, fem oral, men oral, messy sex, like kinky dirty messy sex yall, um, pet names like cupcake and pumpkin and princess, there’s some...let’s say my imagination ran wild and i couldn’t even finish reading it bc i got flustered at my own self

_______________________________________________

How you guys met....

Even at first glance, you were the absolute cutest.

“Is it just a table for one?” You asked him softly, Jay almost missing the question because he was too busy staring at you.

Jay snapped out of it and shook his head, clearing his throat. “Uh no, I’m expecting a client here soon so for two please,” He remarked, giving you a smile.

You smiled back at him and his heart couldn’t help but sing at how the roundness of your cheeks became accentuated.

Adorable.

Jay spent the next two months visiting the same restaurant at the same time, clinging onto the moments when you’d smile sweetly at him or get bashful and look down at your feet as you led him to his table. He constantly made the excuse that this restaurant was close to his office and clients liked coming here, which was true, but of course, there was more to his motives.

“Table for one today?” you asked him like always. Perhaps on purpose or by accident the button-up blouse you wore was buttoned down lower than usual and he felt like such a pervert but he couldn't help but internally swear at how soft your cleavage looked. To add onto it, you also wore a pencil skirt instead of your normal black slacks and at that point, he would’ve given up his investments just to be between your plush thighs.

As he followed you to his usual table he quickly took a couple of motivating breaths, fidgeting with his hands slightly.

“So, what are you doing after work?” Jay inquired as you led him to his usual table in the back.

You chewed on your cheek in thought as you set down his menu, looking around to make sure your boss wouldn't see you loitering around.

“Probably nothing, maybe watch some trashy television or something,” you shyly giggled, fumbling with your hands as you felt his carob-eyed stare.

“Then, if you would like of course, would you like to go out on a date with me? I promise I won’t take you out to dinner here,” Jay joked, your heart racing as you saw his expensive smile.

Your eyebrows raised in surprise at the remark, mind faltering for a bit.

Jay only chuckled at your silence, fumbling with the edge of the menu.

“You may say no, as long as it’s not the whole I’m not worthy of love and affection or something along those lines,” he joked plainly. His sense of humor was rather dry but it made you giggle nonetheless, playfully whacking him with the spare menu you had.

“I’m not that cliche of a person, though maybe thirteen-year-old me would have said something along those lines. I just well,” you stood up a bit straighter, “I just thought you’d never ask y’know?” you spoke playfully, looking around before leaning down near his face so your coworkers wouldn’t hear any of what you were about to say.

“I mean between you and me, the food isn’t that great for the price you’re paying. Someone coming here routinely to eat is either a. Trying to be sly and smooth and is falling miserably, or b. Is a crazy person for thinking the food is actually worth the price to enjoy so routinely.”

Jay clutched his hand over his heart at the subtle dig you made at him and could already feel his heart swelling with your personality as well as how gorgeous your features looked up close.

“So, can I safely say that this failed attempt to be sly and smooth has won over the girl I’m currently pining for?”

You pouted brightly in feigned thought before smiling and nodding at him, grabbing a sheet of paper and pen from your pockets to write down your number and availability.

“See you around then,” you remarked before smiling and walking off, Jay having to kick himself internally for staring at you walk away a bit too intently.

****************************************************

Present...

****************************************************

He couldn’t touch himself.

He made a promise to you and it would be unfair to break that to you when he asked you of the same. Instead, Jay rested his head against the shower wall with his eyes squeezed shut, trying to think pure thoughts but his mind kept circling back to sticking his member between your chubby thighs and hearing you whimper as he moved in and out of them, or perhaps your plump cheeks filling up as you tried to wrap your mouth around his tip.

He was going crazy and he’d never felt so desperate or horny, not even when he was a teenager going through puberty. He turned the water to cold in the hopes it would bring him back to sanity since you were already fast asleep in his bed, and he’d feel like a complete jackass to wake you up for something like this.

Unfortunately, the cold water wasn’t helping and his heart picked up in speed when he heard you knocking on the door, his absence soon waking you up from your nap.

“Jay? Is everything good? I thought you were just going to the bathroom. Why are you taking a shower at 2 in the afternoon?” you inquired innocently through the door.

His mind went blank because he had no idea what to come up with besides the truth, though he wasn’t sure the truth would be something you’d want to hear.

“I just, um….thought I needed to take one to reset my brain y’know” Jay lied measly, never being the best at this sorta thing.

“I’m coming in you’re being weird,” you told him, opening the door Jay’s heart was pounding in his ears as you saw through the glass door the very prominent erection that was in front of your eyes.

“Oh,” you stated, shifting on your feet awkwardly. “Were you about to…touch yourself?”

The eyes you gave him went straight to his heart as he avidly shook his head, clearing his throat.

“Well, no quite the opposite actually I…well you…. shit, princess you looked so adorable in your sleep shorts and t-shirt it just did something to me, “ Jay awkwardly rambled out, wanting to sink onto the floor.

You nodded and went to the shower door, opening it before getting down on your knees, and shifting back and forth on the bathroom rug.

“Princess you don’t have to-”

“I-I want to. But I don’t know if I will be as good as you want,” you informed him, opening your mouth and softly wrapping your mouth around his tip.

“Shit, wait princess let me sit down first” Jay breathed through gritted teeth, his cheeks getting rosy.

“Then I’ll join you,” you whimpered out gently sitting up on your knees and moving inside the shower with him, clothes still on. As Jay sat down on the bench in the shower he couldn’t help but stroke his member with the fervent drops of precum leaking out: the cool shower water was partially soaking your head and getting onto your shirt as well, the temperature causing your nipples to prod against your shirt more prominently.

Hesitantly you leaned forward and took his tip inside your mouth, saliva already beginning to coat his member in anticipation.

“Fuck princess” Jay groaned deeply, his legs shaking as his eyes fluttered to the back of his head. You watched his reactions to make sure you were doing things right, satisfaction coming over you when his abdomen clenched at the texture of your tongue running along his vein.

“Seongie, look at me” you huffed, slowly licking a long strip on the side of his member to get his attention. At the sensation, Jay couldn’t help but buck into your mouth some, hurried apologies leaving him when he saw your cheeks get full.

“Here princess, hollow your cheeks out some more? Just like that~, good girl~” Jay praised through half-lidded eyes, watching as tears rolled down your plush cheeks. His praise made you want to take more of him in your mouth despite the ache, Jay noticing it and stroking your cheek affectionately.

“Careful cupcake, don’t hurt yourself. Come up for air yeah?” Jay teased, gently pulling you off of him. Your face was disheveled and your breathing was ragged as you licked some of the saliva that coated your lips, a slight whine leaving you when he wouldn’t give you wanted what you wanted.

“More please,” you rasped out, a yelp leaving you when Jay tugged at your nipple.

“More?”

You nodded.

“More what?” he teased, flicking your nipple with his index finger. Your breath hitched and you shifted as you felt drops start to collect in your underwear, feeling bashful all of a sudden.

“Princess, can you do something for me?”

“I-it depends on what it is,” you countered, biting down on your lip when Jay gestured for you to sit between his legs with your back against his chest, Jay’s hands massaging your inner thighs.

“Can I touch you pumpkin?”

You nodded and Jay tsked, his breath tickling your ear as his hand found its way between your legs.

“Daddy likes it when his princess uses his words, mmkay?”

The sound of his voice made you squirm and you couldn’t help but clench around nothing from the sound, rushing out a timid “yes daddy”. You felt bashful at your own mouth saying the words, watching as Jay reached for the shower head and turned the water to something warmer, one of his hands holding one of your thighs open.

“How does this feel?” Jay questioned gently, tilting the shower head so a stream of water was hitting your puffy clit. Even through your shorts and underwear, the sensation made your toes curl, a choked groan leaving your mouth as he clicked the setting to something harsher.

“It feels weird-oh god,” you whimpered out, eyes closing shut at the fluttering sensation.

“I wonder how sensitive your chest is princess, shall we find out?” he quipped with a smirk, moving the shower head so streams of water pressed lightly against a pert nipple. Your body felt hot at how much whining you were doing at such simple feelings, your moans getting caught in the back of your throat as an effort to suppress them.

It only made Jay tsk in “disappointment” at your attempt to hide your sounds from him, giving you the shower head in one of your hands.

“Aw princess, you know I told you not to be so shy around me~”

You could only whine in reply, having a feeling where this was going.

Jay hummed and guided your hand so the water was pressing against your clit once more, Jay using his other hand to wrap around your free hand and guide it to your chest.

“Look at how turned on you are princess, your nipples are just begging to be teased,” he whispered in your ear, guiding your hand so that you rolled the hardened bud between your fingers. Your jaw went slack and the back of your head dug into Jay’s shoulder, Jay using your other hand to press the water even closer to your clit.

“Daddy Iwantmore,” you gasped out, writhing as you felt such delicate but intense sensations.

Jay chuckled and kissed your temple, turning off the shower water while one of his hands guided yours into your shorts and past your underwear. “Such a good girl princess using your words for me,” he praised softly against your ear, grinning against it when your breath stuttered when you felt your slippery arousal.

“Have you ever fingered yourself pumpkin?”

You shook your head and stuttered out a “no”, squirming against his back when he slid both yours and his inside. Jay had to hold onto your waist to keep you from squirming around too much as his and your index fingers pushed passed your walls, the lewd sounds from your core echoing against the shower wall.

“Mm, aren’t you just the cutest? Here let daddy help you, yeah?” He cooed softly, pushing his and your finger inside until you both felt the spongy part of your walls. “You feel this princess? If you press against it, like this,” your breath caught in your throat as he did so, “it feels really good doesn’t it sweetheart?”

“Yes but i-it feels weird,” you couldn’t help but note, your eyes fluttering as he slid another one of his digits in. He guided his and your hand so the movements inside your core were languid, your toes curling every time your fingers pressed against your spongy walls.

“Raise your shirt up f’me princess, so I can see those pretty nipples of yours.”

His blunt way of dirty talk instinctively made you clench around now just his fingers as you used both of yours to roll your shirt up, shivering as the cool air made contact with them.

“Play with them, show me how you make yourself feel good,” he purred gently in your ear, his thumb rubbing over your clit gently as a means to convince you.

You gulped but massaged your breasts softly, whimpering when you tugged at one of your hardened nipples then switching to rolling the tender bud between your fingers. Jay couldn’t help but grin since with every ministration you gave yourself he could feel you clench down on his fingers like a vice, the lewd sounds echoing against the shower walls as you soaked his digits.

“What am I gonna do with you princess, you’ve already soaked my hand from a little foreplay,” he teased, speeding up his fingers as drops of essence ran down his hands. He suddenly stopped much to your displeasure and chuckled when he held his fingers in front of your face, sticky white-tinted droplets running down his fingers.

“Not only that, but you’re fucking creaming yourself as well. Have you ever done that before sweetheart?” He inquired as he sucked the digits, groaning at the taste. You shook your head and he smirked as he held his middle finger to your lips, exploring your mouth with the digit as you tasted yourself.

“You can be messier than that. Add more saliva,” he commanded with gentleness to his voice, using his free hand to tug at the other nipple you didn’t get to. You groaned against the digit and did as he instructed and let the droplets of saliva gathering in your cheeks run free and drip down his hand and some onto your chest.

“Good girl~, the more saliva the less your mouth won’t blister when you take me in your mouth,” he informed, gesturing for you to get back on your knees for him. You eagerly did, your body buzzing with excitement and lust as you were face-to-face with his member.

“Are your knees okay on the shower floor princess?” Jay inquired tenderly as he stroked your plump cheek, finding the way you puffed them up in thought adorable.

“Mhmm, it’s okay it doesn’t bother me,” you soothed him, sticking your saliva-coated tongue out as an obvious hint for him to give you what you wanted.

“Tap my thigh three times if it becomes too much for you,” he reminded you as you took the whole tip in your mouth, humming contentedly. The deep groan he let out against the shower walls was more than enough motivation as you tried to relax your throat to take more of him, Jay’s hands coming on either side of your face to stroke the tears forming in the corners of your eyes. You could tell when he was looking fully at you and when he wasn’t because every time he did so you’d feel him twitch in your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks so the saliva trapped in pockets could coat his member as well.

Jay bit down on his upper lip and rested his head against the shower wall to keep his composure, his thighs shaking and abdomen clenching being a glorious site to you. Feeling like teasing him a little you slowly pulled off of him and called his name softly, Jay staring at you through half-lidded eyes as he caught his breath.

“Daddy, don’t you want to look at your princess?” you asked him sweetly as you licked the underside of his member, your saliva coating every expanse of it. Jay groaned out your name and shuddered at the feeling, a knot forming in his lower abdomen as you suckled softly at the tip, sticking out your tongue to cushion the underside.

“Shit wait princess I’m close,” he panted out, trying to gently push you off of him. You hummed around him and shook your head no, the vibrations making him choke on his own breath. He’d never felt this level of need before and he couldn’t help but wonder what the hell was up with him.

But he knew it was you, the girl who he’d become so enamored with that as soon as he looked down at your soft and pleasing eyes he felt the knot in his stomach snap, holding your head in place as hot ropes of white enter your mouth.

“Spit it out princess don’t swallow,” he pushed softly through ragged breaths, already feeling bad that he came in your mouth in the first place.

“Like this?” you questioned with innocence, letting your jaw go slack so drops of his cum trickled from your mouth and down your jaw some even landing on your still-exposed chest.

Jay swallowed thickly at the sight and could already feel himself get hard again at the sight; though he never considered himself a person for messy sex, the way you looked in front of him had him questioning and disregarding any morals that pertained to the topic. He grinned and pressed two fingers against the center of your tongue to gather the remaining droplets of his cum that may have remained, holding it up some so that it leaked down onto your chest with the other droplets.

“Mm princess, just like that.”

****************************************************

After much convincing, you’d found yourself being taken to perhaps one of the most expensive shopping centers in the city, practically everything that you’d looked at having at least four numbers for the price.

It didn’t seem to bother Jay in the slightest, almost encouraging it when you’d shyly point to the shoes or skirt that had caught your eye. You’d never been one to go out shopping in public, something about the anxiety and the stares always getting to you. However, it seemed Jay had a knack for picking up on any slight change in your emotions, squeezing your hand, or kissing your cheek while whispering to you how beautiful you were any time negative thoughts entered your head.

While Jay went to the bathroom your eyes couldn’t help but stare at the size 00 mannequin wearing the loveliest lingerie you’d seen: it was a babydoll dress with lace straps and accents, all in an alluring shade of crimson. You were so enamored by it that you didn’t see Jay come up alongside you and rub the back of your hand, causing you to jump slightly.

“What’s got you staring so intently princess?” Jay drawled, following your stare as he looked at the lingerie. “Do you want to go inside and try it on for me? I’d love to see you in it,” Jay couldn’t help but remark, his hands massaging your hips.

“It wouldn’t like that on me you know,” you couldn’t help but remind him, cheeks getting hot.

“I know that, that’s why I want you to try it on because you’ll look so pretty in it,” Jay complimented, gently grabbing your hand and leading you to the store before you could protest.

As soon as you walked in you felt the store clerk’s judgemental eyes on you and you immediately wanted to cower away, Jay noticing and squeezing your hand.

“Excuse me but I was wondering if you had that lingerie on the mannequin in my lovely girlfriend’s size?” Jay asked confidently, holding a stare with the store clerk.

“It’s gonna cost more because of extra fabric you know” the clerk chided pointedly, her demeanor disappearing when she saw Jay take out his black card.

“Ma’am if you don’t want me to disrespect you as a worker on commission then do not disrespect someone who I care about please,” Jay said through a dazzling smile, the store clerk cracking and doing as he said without another word.

Now you stood in a large and fancy dressing room with Jay’s honey stare on you as you held the expensive fabric in your hand, rocking back and forth on your heels.

“Close your eyes while I get changed please,” you asked softly, still not entirely used to being undressed in front of him.

Jay complied and closed his eyes, though his brain was racing with so many thoughts that he thought his mind would explode.

“Okay uh, I guess you can open them,” you remarked softly, watching intently as Jay’s chest rose sharply.

“Shit~ I should’ve asked you to try it on at home so I could say all the things I’m thinking,” Jay whispered, standing up and moving until your back hit the mirror.

“You’re just being silly,” you giggled out, your heart beating a mile a minute as his hands danced on the hem of the dress.

“I’m not, I’m being serious kitten,” Jay cooed even softer so only you could hear, his hands massaging your soft thighs. He bent down some and started kissing your jawline softly and you couldn’t help but shiver at the sensation, his hands going up to tug at your hardening nipples through the silk.

“Stop sucking in your tummy princess you know how cute I think it looks,” Jay purred, sinking to his knees and raising the dress to lay soft kisses on your stomach his mouth going lower and lower.

“J-jay what if the clerk hears,” you whispered softly, clamping your mouth over your hand when you felt his tongue prod at your clothed clit.

“Can princess wait until she gets home then?” Jay inquired as his index finger pressed against your sticky wet patch, circling it with the pad of his finger. “Your cunt may soak my seats at this rate,” he teased as he stood up. “But I can wait princess, so let’s get you changed and you can take this home and model it for me yeah?”

“O-okay,” you whined out, Jay teasing you even more by squeezing your face so your mouth went agape, his tongue gently flicking against yours for a second before pulling back. The entire time he led you outside the mall you felt like you were in a daze, Jay opening the car door for you with a sinister smile.

He started up the car and buckled your seat belt for you, his deep voice whispering in your ear sending shivers up your spine.

“Take your underwear off for me princess,” he ordered gently, Not moving the car until you complied, watching as he put them in the pocket of his jeans. You couldn’t help but shift side to side as you felt sticky beads leak from you and onto the expensive leather seats.

“Aw, princess must be dying to be touched huh? I can already see your cunt leaking on the seats and we’ve barely left the parking lot.”

“J-jay” “Is that what you should be calling me right now?” He warned you, looking at you with a raised brow.

You gulped and your face got hot, moving around as you felt more droplets escape you.

“Daddy please I just want to be touched don’t be mean, please,” you whimpered. At a red light, Jay turned and looked at you, loving how your eyes were already welling up with tears rolling down your soft cheeks.

“But when I’m mean you get wetter, so shouldn’t I tease you a bit more princess? Make you finger yourself with those small hands, knowing they can’t reach any of the places I can? You probably get off to that thought when you touch yourself don’t you,” Jay pouted, squishing your face as he looked back at the road again.

“No, I listened to you. I don’t touch myself as you asked, see I’m being a good girl so reward me please,” you choked out, his harsh words indeed making you so wet you felt arousal cling to your inner thighs.

“That’s my good girl~” Jay praised, his hand that wasn’t on the steering wheel going between your sticky inner thighs. You eagerly spread them and let out a staggered mewl as you felt his warm hand come in contact with your slippery clit, your legs instinctively spreading at the feeling.

Jay chuckled as he saw you in his peripheral, a twisting and desperate mess. “So cute of you cupcake. You used to be so shy with your sounds, now look at you, legs spread eagerly rutting into my hand as you’ve never been fucked before,” Jay stated matter of factly, your hand gripping his wrist as a way to usher his fingers inside of you.

“You made me like this,” you panted out, head resting on the car window as he slid his middle finger inside, his thumb gently stroking over your clit.

“I did princess?”

You whined a “yes” and groaned when Jay slid a second digit in, curling them briefly before pulling them both out. You wanted to complain but his essence-soaked fingers were quickly in your mouth, and you eagerly swirled your tongue around the digits.

“Such an obedient princess, good girl~” he hummed, retracting his fingers from your mouth and cleaning them off with his own, sucking your saliva and essence onto his tongue.

He pulled into the driveway and it felt like you could barely walk as he opened the car door for you and tossed the keys to his attendant, thanking them sincerely as he grabbed the bag carrying the lingerie.

“Wanna go upstairs and get changed for me?” he whispered in your ear, rubbing his hand over your stomach and hip affectionately. You gulped and nodded, still feeling like you were in a lustful daze as your legs struggled up the stairs.

“Since Maria just cleaned the master and spare bedroom meet me in my office yeah? I’d hate to mess up all her hard work, or distract any of the workers with our chattering” he said with a sinister grin. You knew that wasn’t the only reason why as you rushed out a bashful okay, going upstairs to the bathroom.

It was because his office was the only room that was soundproof.

You changed into the outfit and put a sweatshirt and some shorts over your entire, just in case you happened to run into the many staff that worked there. Gathering up your courage you knocked on his door and opened it when you heard his voice, body getting hot with anticipation when you saw him at his desk.

The top buttons of his dress shirt were undone and he’d set his glasses on the table as you stepped in, raising his brows.

“Hi princess,” Jay drawled as he leaned back in his office chair, flicking his head towards the door. “Go ahead and lock it for me yeah?,” he hummed, his hand going down to massage the bulge in his pants.

You turned around and did so and shimmied out of your shorts and sweatshirt, Jay biting down on his lower lip and leaning back in his chair as he took you all in. Slowly but surely you shuffled your way behind his desk so you stood right in front of him, leaning against the desk while he drank you in.

Jay chuckled and cocked his head to the side, a side grin on his face. “Princess is still wet isn’t she?” he remarked, grabbing a pencil and pressing the eraser head against your swollen bud. Even through your lingerie underwear, the sensation made your legs waver as you hummed in agreement, your face burning as you rutted into the sensation.

“Did I make you this needy sweetheart? So desperate to cum that you’re rutting something as simple as this,” He teased as he stood up, his body now pressing yours against the desk even more so as he circled the pencil slowly. You let out a “yes” and buried your face in his dress shirt, your breath getting heavier from such a degrading sensation.

“Turn around princess and spread yourself for me,” he commanded in that same gentle voice he always had when he was turned on, rolling up his sleeves as he kneeled down so his face was right in front of your soaked core.

“W-what are you gonna-” Your cheek pressed against the cool oak as Jay pulled your underwear down and slid a digit in, his warm mouth simultaneously coming to envelop your swollen clit.

You rested against your desk and let out a muffled groan as the knot broke almost instantly, your legs shaking as you struggled to hold yourself up while your core pulsed around his digit.

Jay pulled back and let out a deep chuckle, your ears perking up when you heard the sound of him unbuckling his belt.

“You came as soon as I slid a finger in princess?” Jay inquired, kissing the tops of your thighs and massaging them with his hands.

You gulped and nodded, feeling slightly embarrassed. “You’d just been teasing me for so long I-I couldn’t hold it back,” you murmured whimpering when Jay slid two digits in and started scissoring your core. Your back arched slightly when Jay came to hunch alongside you, his breath tickling your ear as you spoke.

“You wouldn’t believe how many times I have to hold myself back sweetheart,” Jay rasped in your throat, the bulge between his legs resting against the side of your thigh as he continued to scissor your core. His breath was heavy and he was slowly losing his mind, kissing your shoulder messily and nudging your head with his own to tilt your head back. He began leaving messy marks alongside your jaw and neck, the warmth of his tongue and saliva being felt across every expanse of skin he could find. Jay chuckled when you whined and try to hide away your face, causing him to stand up and remove his fingers, motioning for you to sit up and sit on his desk.

In doing so the syrupy essence that leaked profusely from you was now spilling onto his desk, and you were doing your best to show restraint from rutting your core against the cool wood, your head dizzy was a pleasure.

Jay put the two essence-soaked fingers against your lips and hummed a “good girl” as you sucked, holding your chin in his other hand as you stared at him with hazy eyes.

“Stay focused on me princess~” Jay cooed, shaking your head slightly to tease you.

“You have a long night ahead of you.”

-----------------------------------------------

if you liked this PLEASE PLEASE let me know bc the i’d be inclined to do this sorta thing for other hyung line members 👁👁💕

likes don’t tell me anything and don’t make me more likely to write for members, i go off feedback <3333333

#jay smut #enhypen smut #enhypen imagines #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen scenarios #enhypen jay smut #jay scenarios #enhypen jay scenarios #enhypen hard hours

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pourcap · 11 months

Text

thoughts: kr chapter 14

Damen spent two fruitless hours with Nikandros trying to plot a course (...), until Laurent wandered in and outlined a plan so outrageous that Damen had said yes with the feeling that his mind was splitting apart. how much pleasure do you think laurent got out of damen going with his plan instead of nikandros'?

(...) the young, triple-crowned Pallas, Lazar, who had whistled at him, (...) i would like a pallas x lazar spinoff

(...) Damen tried not to think too deeply about the reasons why Laurent thought it necessary to bring a physician. i reread chapter 13 and honestly i wouldn't be surprised if damen was worried about injury while laurent was planning for something else, like jokaste said: "he has his own plans." idk what he's expecting to happen but maybe the 'outrageous plan' and paschal being with them means more? ugh no idea

(...) ‘I see. My wife is the leverage for my good behaviour?’ ‘That’s right,’ said Laurent. is it just me or is easily admitting to something not really characteristic of laurent? i want to know how he said it. was it just "that's right" or was it "that's right" with a glint of "you're so dumb" flickering in his eyes? every chapter i read i think of that one part in book 1 (i think??) where damen tells laurent he doesn't think laurent does anything without ten different motives (that's me paraphrasing obv, i can't remember the exact words :/)

Damen dropped the pitcher. stop

Laurent’s arms were bare. His throat was bare. His collarbone was bare, and most of his thighs, his long legs, and all of his left shoulder. Damen stared at him. horny damen is back!!!! <3333

Laurent sat down. (...) It was even shorter sitting down. he's not even listening, is he?

'Yes. Sorry,’ said Damen. And then: ‘What were you saying?“ lmao i loooove damen so much

They had only twelve soldiers. Twelve-ish, amended Damen, thinking of Paschal and Guion. let me repeat that: i love damen (and his sass)

of course nikandros disagrees. remember when laurent asked damen if he thought nikandros would like him? i guess we all know the answer lol (maybe someday ☻)

'I wish to restate my strong objection,’ said Nikandros. ‘It’s noted,’ said Damen. I LOOOVE DAMEN

Even so, Damen heard himself saying. ‘You can’t just barge in on—’ ‘Open the wagon,’ said the Captain, ignoring him. if only this dude knew who he's really speaking to

also how are they getting out of this lol

Laurent stepped out of the wagon, (...). He said, ‘How did you convince Jokaste to play along with the guards?’ ‘I didn’t,’ said Laurent. no way

He tossed the wad of blue silk in his hands to one of the soldiers to dispose of, then shrugged into his jacket in a rather mannish gesture. IN A RATHER MANNISH GESTURE

laurent is so hot

i'm so sorry but he's literally so hot

"Don't think about it too much,' said Damen. can you believe how far laurent and damen have come? the easy acceptance of each other's personalities, the appreciation for how much they've helped and will continue to help each other by one person making up for what the other lacks, the absence of judgement? and just, in general, how well they know each other by now? i just love them. i love them.

Laurent held out his hand to escort her back from the supply wagon into the main wagon, a bored Veretian gesture. Her eyes had the same bored look as she took his hand. ‘You’re lucky we’re alike,’ she said, stepping down. They looked at one another like two reptiles. i imagine nikandros staring at damen right now and i know exactly what his face would look like

(...) ‘I’ll be swift, and I’ll take our best rider with me.’ ‘That’s me,’ said Laurent, wheeling his horse. i just think they're very sexy

'The undergrowth was thinner when I was a boy.’ ‘Or you were.' stop flirting omg (jk pls go on)

damen constantly thinking about all the nice places he wants to take laurent and the people he wants to introduce him to and the memories he wants to make with him... it's doing things to me. he's so in love. they're so in love. <3

'You left the dress in the wagon,’ said Damen. ‘Thank you, I do have other ways of getting past a sentry.' yay more flirting!

'You’re late,’ said Damen. ‘I brought you a souvenir.’ Laurent tossed Damen an apricot. Damen could feel the quiet exultation of Laurent’s men, while the Akielons looked a little dazed. laurenttttt (i said that with a squeal)

‘Is this how you do things in Vere?’ ‘You mean effectively?’ said Laurent. (...) lauuuureeeennttttt <33333 (he's so cute and i love him and i know damen's competency kink just flared up again but can laurent pls stop needling nikandros lol)

(...) Earlier, Laurent had tossed Damen his bedroll and said, ‘Unpack this,’ and Pallas had almost challenged him to a duel for the insult. (...) imagine if pallas knew even half of all that happened between damen and laurent lol. also it's not like damen is a perfect gentleman but, you know. i appreciate the loyalty (and love pallas)

Damen poured a shallow cup of wine and passed it to the soldier beside him (Pallas), and there was a long silence in which Pallas stood obviously garnering every piece of courage that he had to reach out and take it. damen is so good to his men; i love that he knows pallas meant well, so this is a nice gesture. also, bc it's just impossible to ignore: damen is so hot.

Laurent strolled up to the impasse, threw himself down on the log next to Damen, and in an expressionless voice launched into the story of the brothel adventure that had earned him the blue dress, which was so unabashedly filthy it made Lazar blush, and so funny it had Pallas wiping his eyes. (...) i just got super emotional bc remember when in the beginning of book 2, damen told laurent he needed to bond with his men in a way that wasn't just manipulation and laurent said he didn't have time for that? i love that it's happening now, and has of course been happening for a while, but that laurent is coming more out of his shell and actually enjoying himself now and then.

Pallas did a decent impression of Paschal’s riding. Lazar watched Pallas with lazy admiration. It wasn’t the impression he was admiring. Damen bit into the apricot. 1) i will read all the lazar x pallas fics there are. 2) damen always noticing the soldiers flirting is so funny to me. first jord and aimeric, now these two

laurent and damen lying side by side under the stars ahhhhh

'You smell of horse,’ said Damen. ‘It’s how I got past the dog.' whyyyy am i so emotional? can you believe i'm crying over damen saying laurent smells lol

'You want me wandering around the Akielon countryside naked at night?’ And then, ‘You smell just as much of horse as I do.’ ‘More,’ said Damen. He was smiling. he was smiling !!!! and i am crying now :)

'They’re Artesian. Aren’t they? From the old empire, Artes. They say it used to span both our countries.' bring it back! bring back artes!

Damen heard himself say it. ‘There’s a summer palace in Ios outside the capital. (...)' His pulse beat with uncharacteristic nerves, so that he felt almost shy. ‘When all this is over . . . we could take horses and stay a week in the palace.’ (...) He felt Laurent holding himself carefully, and there was a strange pause. After a moment, Laurent said, softly, ‘I’d like that.’ you know how i just said i was crying? i am sobbing now :) damen and laurent both being shy and cute and in love and full of yearning for peace and happiness 😭 I love them so much 😭

that was such a good chapter :')

#i genuinely loved this #capri #captive prince #damen #laurent #damen of akielos #damianos #damianos of akielos #laurent of vere #lamen

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wehangout · 6 days

Note

Heya Jen gallavich & 21 please! 💕

Send me a number and I’ll write a gallavich kiss 👄

Thank you, Myn!

21. - - on a place of insecurity (I wrote this as, like, a moment of insecurity, like mentally in a place of insecurity. And only now realise it might have been a literal place, like an area of the body? IDK, this is what you get, hope you like it!)

You've been engaged for seven hours. Five of those were spent kissing and fucking and touching and savouring and celebrating in the way you and Ian celebrate everything. But those were the five hours in between. The first hour was the walk home, the kisses and giggles and touches as you made your way down the street. The last hour was Ian asleep, head on your stomach, naked and sated.

You can't sleep.

You can't sleep and you know yourself well enough to know that you won't sleep until you fix it. You'll stew and you'll get antsy and you'll take it out on Ian. So you nudge Ian.

"Hey."

He mumbles something and fucking snuggles his face into you. You sigh, so stupid in love that you can't fucking deal. Even so, you slide out from beneath him and lean up on your elbow.

"Sleep," he murmurs, arm tight around your waist, and you run your fingers through his hair.

"Gotta talk to ya."

He inhales deeply through his nose and forces his eyes open because he knows you, knows that those words aren't just what do you want for breakfast or how long until we have to be up or wanna go again?. Those words mean something. He blinks heavily a few times before pushing himself up to his own elbow.

"What's goin' on."

And because you can't get his look at the courthouse out of his head, you spit it out.

"We don't have to get married, you know? I mean, we can just be together, if that's what you want."

He blinks once and all sleepiness is gone from his face. "What are you talking about?"

"S'just ... you didn't want to. And I don't want you to do it just because you know I do want to."

"Mick -"

"I would've come home anyway, Ian. You didn't have to propose to get me back."

He stares at you for a long time before moving one hand up to your chest, your heart, his tattoo. He swipes his thumb over it and frowns..

"You think I don't wanna marry you?"

Your heart hammers in your chest. "I'm not - that's not ... fuck."

Fuck, because this is now how tonight was supposed to go.

Fuck, because you're giving him an out when you really don't fucking want to.

Fuck, because there's a burning behind your eyes that you can't stop.

"Mick," he says, and then nothing until you meet his gaze. "Remember when I said I loved you more than anything? I mean that. I meant every word I said tonight. And do you know what I want? More than fucking anything in this fucked up world?"

You swallow back the lump in your throat. "Soundproof walls?"

He smirks. "Sure. But also to spend the rest of my life with you. To wake up with you every morning and go to sleep next to you every night and kiss you whenever the fuck I want."

"Pussy," you say, but it's with a sniff that takes away any heat.

"Pretty much," he agrees. "I wanna marry you. I wanted to marry you at that fucking courthouse but pussied out because I'm a fucking pussy."

"Can we stop talkin' about pussy now?"

He leans forward and kisses you - you lips, your forehead, your eyes - and then hits you with that beautiful Ian Gallagher smile.

"I wanna marry you," he promises, "and the next time I hear you questioning that I'm gonna tell Lip he can officiate the wedding."

You snort. "Fuck you, Gallagher."

He kisses you again and again, whispering against your mouth and skin those same words over and over again....

Wanna marry you.

Until you're a shaking mess and you believe it. You believe him.

#vintagelacerosette #ian and mickey #gallavich fic #gallavich #my fic #kiss prompts

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sailoryooons · 1 year

Text

Mine | One Shot | myg (m)

☾ Pairing: Yoongi x Succubus F. Reader

☾ Summary: Yoongi lives a quiet life. His days are organized neatly, and every week he can expect the same results. Then he meets you. Hypnotizing. Otherworldly. Strange. And his life never goes back to the way it was before.

☾ Word Count: 14,864

☾ Genre: Smut, Horror, Thriller

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

☾ Warnings: Buckle up bitches this list of warnings is going to exhaust even me. Overall creepiness, descriptions of liminal spaces, tons of mentions of subspace-like trances, Yoongi's mind is not always his own, unexplained happenings, Yoongi being manipulated subtly, written jump scares (like three of them?), nightmares, hallucinations, the cutest and also creepiest fucking little succubus you'll ever see, Succy (succubus reader) really likes Tokyo Ghoul that should be a hint, hints at eating raw meat (bleh), Yoongi turning against his friends, Yoongi feeling sick/depressed in a couple of scenes, Yoongi is literally addicted to eating reader out soiejijrghij, explicit sexual content including, spit play, nipple play, oral (f. and m. receiving), grinding, unprotected sex in multiple positions, cum eating, switch dynamics between the two of them often, subspace mentions, fingering, ass play (m. receiving), just.... so many bodily fluids all the time, mentions of animal death (it is a cat and it's dead body is briefly described), a lot of confusion and pace changes as a style choice, Succy is literally obsessed with Yoongi so a lot of the pet name Kitty, very cringe behavior for some rando Yoongi met at a bar, ambiguous ending. I think that covers it idk this is almost 15k of pure nightmare fuel I will send you my therapists number alright

☾ Published: October 30, 2022

☾ A/N: If I have to write this authors note one more time because 'a wild tumbeast ate my fucking post I will scream. Do better Tumblr please stop eating my content over and over lmao. ANYWAY. SURPRISE THIS IS HERE A DAY EARLY. I have zero self-control and @gimmethatagustd told me to post it now so I really said fuck it we ball. I didn't use a beta for this one because I'm insane but I did edit it myself.... so if you see errors..... no you didn't. This one was so much fun to write and I hope you all love Succy as much as I do. She deserves the world she is very... scary and cute.

HAPPY HALIWEEN!!!

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Masterlist | Ask

Friday nights are spent blowing off steam from work with friends. Yoongi has always lived a simple life, and he likes his Fridays like this: second person to the bar after Taehyung, a quick shot of whisky to take the edge off the day, followed by a whiskey neat and some fries from the kitchen that will still be a little unthawed in the middle.

Yoongi loves his Fridays at Serendipity.

The name is a bit of a joke, Jimin says. He inherited the old, rundown bar under another name from his abusive father after he passed away. Mysterious circumstances, the long-term patrons mutter into darkened ale and frosted mugs. Still, they come despite Jimin flipping the name. It was the only thing Jimin could afford to flip, the floors still the same sticky concrete that collect vomit, spilled beer, whiskey, and perhaps a little piss.

It's an ugly thing, with the vinyl stool covers splitting open to reveal guts of yellow foam, and countertops that need another layer of lacquer to fight the chipping from heavy mugs being slammed down every time Seokjin gets into an argument with one of the regulars. Yoongi tries to avoid the bathroom as much as he can. Jimin spent two weeks cleaning it and stocking it with a nice care basket with sprays, cotton rounds, and other products, only to have someone puke in it on the first night.

Yoongi doesn’t care that Jimin named the bar as a bit of an inside joke. Yoongi knows in his heart of hearts when he sees you that this moment is serendipitous.

Because when Yoongi sees you for the first time, the world ends.

Not really. But it feels that way the moment he turns at the bar. Perhaps he’s meant to see you – or perhaps it was by your design. He tilts backward when the door opens, searching for any sign of Seokjin who said he would be there in a few minutes.

And there you are.

Lights dim. The world takes on a muted feeling, like the two of you exist between murky, brackish water with something lurking just beyond the clouded space that he can’t quite make out. The roaring voices of the bar fade softly into the background until it’s just a buzz of pressure between Yoongi’s ears - or maybe that’s not right. Maybe it’s the buzzing pressure of awareness pressing on his spine and eardrums.

It isn’t pleasant but it’s not… uncomfortable.

It’s impossible to look away from you. He tries - tries to remember where he is. A bar, perhaps? Not this weird, opaque space where the only thing he can make out is the rogue on your lips, a spark in your eye, and the way you walk forward. No. Walk isn’t the right word. Glide might be more appropriate, he thinks.

As you near him, Yoongi breathes in sharply. Something like cedar mixed with jasmine and amber makes his head spin. The world tilts and Yoongi begins to slide on its new axis until suddenly, the mist surrounding him shatters as his foot comes into contact with the ground, knee buckling under his weight as his hand flies to the bar to hold himself up.

He fell off of his stool.

Yoongi almost doesn’t believe it, except Taehyung is laughing so hard next to him that Yoongi flushes furiously. He slides back onto the stool, brows furrowed and head ducked down to hide his rapidly glowing red ears and face from you.

But then you speak, and Yoongi cannot fight the urge to look at you once more. It’s an instinct pulling him from blushing furiously in his lap to stare at you.

“Hi,” you murmur. Yoongi is a fish out of water, mouth parted slightly, heart racing. Jasmine. Cedar. Amber. It’s all he can smell. His head swims, mind foggy as he tries to string together words. “Is this seat next to you taken? It’s the only one empty.”

Is it? Yoongi can’t tear his eyes from you, but he could swear Old Ass Han had been sitting there before you walked in.

Old Ass Han is the least annoying of Jimin’s customers and sometimes Yoongi doesn’t mind when Old Ass Han rambles about his late wife. Yoongi has no idea how old Old Ass Han is, he just knows that he was ancient even when Yoongi studied as a high school student tucked in the far corner of the bar.

“Um, yes?” Yoongi says and it comes out like a question.

You grin at him and the world ends a second time.

Pleasure-laced fear shoots down his spine. Your teeth are white and straight, but he swears for a split second they were razor sharp. He shakes his head, dispelling a little of the floating feeling as he says, “Of course. Yes. Please sit.”

Yoongi holds his breath and averts his eyes as you slide onto the stool next to him.

It’s suddenly too loud in the bar, a cacophony of voices and chairs scraping against concrete. Yoongi can still smell you, making the world rotate awkwardly as he spins on his stool to find Taehyung staring at him, brows raise and barely concealing his laughter.

“I don’t think I have ever seen you fumble like that,” Taehyung murmurs. He loses control of his laughter and tries to hide it in his cup of cider. Yoongi flushes and angrily stares into his whiskey, hyperaware of you leaning on the bar to call the bartender’s attention. “I mean – she is – holy shit I never believed in faeries or witches before but there's no way she’s human.”

Yoongi opens and closes his mouth. He tries to find a response to Taehyung, but his tongue feels heavy in his mouth and something tingles along every hair on his arm and neck, a sense of awareness as you lean on the bar, speaking to the bartender.

Again, your voice haunts Yoongi in a matter of seconds. He feels the need to turn and look at you again, but he doesn’t want to be weird. He’s already fallen off the stool once, and he doesn’t plan on further exacerbating his humiliation.

So, Yoongi remains facing Taehyung. Clutches his whiskey glass with shaking hands. Tries to take a breath – it comes out shaky – to calm himself. He has no idea what kind of delirium is threatening him every moment you’re next to him, but he wants to fight it - tries to fight it.

“Are you okay?” Taehyung’s brows twitch, mouth pouting. He ducks his head slightly, trying to find Yoongi’s gaze, but the older keeps his eyes fixed on the wood grain bar. Yoongi wants to look at you again. So bad. Wants to ask you your name. Wants to memorize the curves of your mouth. Wants to memorize every stroke of color in your eyes.

Want want want want.

A sudden throb pulses in Yoongi. He doesn’t know where it comes from, but he feels it bloom inside of him, unfurling with warm petals of want want want want.

The urge to turn and look at you gets stronger.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck –

Yoongi grits his teeth. Feels pressure at the back of his head, like there are featherlight fingers pressing into the base of his skull to urge him to turn around and look at you again. His muscles constrict and he feels himself start to turn, hips beginning to swivel in your direction, arms rigidly placed on the bar as if to fight his lower half.

When he doesn’t turn to look at you, Yoongi swears he imagines the light press of fingers turning into a steel grip. His eyes start to water and he clenches his teeth, feeling an immovable force on him pulling, dragging, tearing - and he lets out a small gasp, the grip on him so strong that he -

“Yoongi,” Taehyung says again, voice firmer. Yoongi looks up this time, eyes soft and round, face flushed. There’s a little sweat collected on his brow, and Yoongi feels a dull throb at the back of his head like a fading migraine. “What’s wrong?”

“Um-“ he cuts himself off and clears his throat. The pressure on his head is gone, but the menthol-cool, awareness of you is not. “Maybe too much to drink? It’s been a stressful week, I think I knocked these back too quickly.

“You do look sort of flushed.” Taehyung raises his brows. “Maybe water?”

“Yeah. Yeah. Water, please.”

Taehyung asks for water when the bartender returns with your drink. Yoongi doesn’t look at you, though he can see from the corner of his eye you’re looking at him. He grits his teeth and stares at the mismatched, colored bottles behind the bar. None of its top-shelf – Jimin certainly cannot afford it – but it doesn’t need to be.

A glass of water appears in front of Yoongi in time for Seokjin’s arrival. The pressure in Yoongi’s skull doesn’t return, and the tingling along his nerves like an electric current dies down a little. He still feels shaken as he sips the water, freeing up the dry feeling on his tongue.

Seokjin nestles between Yoongi and Taehyung, ordering himself a drink. Jimin appears around the bar this time, finally done with his bookkeeping in the back, and slides a beer over to Seokjin. Yoongi watches the way Jimin smiles at them before his attention falters and slides to you sitting next to Yoongi, making Jimin blink rapidly a few times.

Irrational irritation flares in Yoongi for a split second. Though his attention is on his friend and watching Jimin reacts to you sitting in Old Ass Han’s place, it occurs to Yoongi that he doesn’t want anyone else to compete with him.

Not that he stands a chance. But for once in his life, Yoongi wouldn’t mind being the one to take someone home. Why can’t it be him? He saw you first. You’re sitting next to him.

Just as Jimin’s eyes glitter, turning to half-moons as he smiles at you, Yoongi spins in the chair, giving you his full attention. Your eyes turn to meet his and Yoongi is falling into them, no end in sight.

“Hi again,” you greet, voice velvet. “You have pretty eyes.”

“All right, hyung,” Jimin murmurs. Yoongi isn’t looking at Jimin, but he can hear the smirk in his voice as Jimin retreats to their friends.

“Thanks,” Yoongi murmurs. He allows himself to drink you in. His head begins to buzz like he’s had too much whiskey, his tongue heavy and cotton-fuzzed in his mouth. “You have a pretty… everything.”

You have to know how beautiful you are. A deity beneath silk-smooth skin. But you duck your head, a shy giggle leaving your lips. You have the decency to look shy, averting your eyes, lip tucked between teeth.

Perhaps later Yoongi will be embarrassed by the honesty. But right now, it’s all he can do to keep his heart rate normal. You are incredible to look at. Taehyung was right – perhaps not human.

An unnatural glow hums under your skin. Your eyes are vivid, drinking him in with a spark that Yoongi swears echoes a deep flame in the pit of his stomach. He wrestles with himself, his hands fighting a magnetic pull to reach over and brush his fingers across the canvas of your skin.

Yoongi won’t be able to stop if he touches you. His thoughts repulse him – you’re a stranger. Someone he doesn’t know. Someone his mind is begging to violate. He fists his pants, flexing the muscles of his hands and willing the strange pull toward you to go away.

He doesn’t even know your name and Yoongi feels like Pandora, watching you with coveted desire and shaking, greedy hands. Fuck he wants to pry you open and see what treasure lurks beneath the surface.

“What’s your name?” You ask him. You stir a beverage straw in your drink – an Old Fashioned. His lips twitch in a smile at your taste in drinks as he offers you his name. “Yoongi,” you repeat back. The way his name melts in your mouth like sugar entices him. “Cute. You’re cute.”

Yoongi flashes you a shy smile, echoing yours. You share a laugh, his rough and scratchy as he chews the inside of his cheek nervously, yours light and floating. It echoes in his ears and Yoongi loses his sense of self, thoughts drug-laced with only you.

And then your lips are on him and once again, Yoongi swears the world around him has fallen to destruction.

It’s hard to remember the order of events. Yoongi doesn’t care. Your mouth is sugar-sweet and hungry, licking into Yoongi’s open-mouthed kisses as he presses you against something firm. He wants to melt into you, your skin like fire under his seeking hands, your breath delicate and soft against the empty air of what he thinks is his apartment as his lips attached to your neck.

Even your skin tastes sugared. A delicacy for him. For his mouth only.

Mine. The word echoes across his mind, but not in is own voice.

You writhe underneath Yoongi’s hands. He squeezes the flesh of your lips, tongue snaking out to lick a broad stripe of skin up your neck. Your fingers card through his hair, tugging slightly, just enough to make him groan against your skin.

Yoongi is painfully hard. His cock throbs in his pants, the material restrictive and making the ache so much worse. He grinds his hips against yours, mouth sucking viciously at your collarbone, the top of your cleavage, anywhere he can taste you.

“Fuck,” you whisper, your head thudding against the wall behind you. Panting, you hike up one of your legs, wrapping it against his waist to pull him in tighter to you. Yoongi whines as you connect your mouths again, tongue and teeth, and spit as you grind against him. “I want you so fucking bad.”

“Have me,” he mumbles sucking your tongue into his mouth. You moan, deep in your chest. He swears for a second it’s like a growl. Thinks nothing of it. Just pushes against you hard, cock pulsing. “Whatever you want.”

“Please.”

Yoongi never wants to hear you beg again. Or maybe he doesn’t want you to stop begging. He can’t make up his mind as he pulls you toward a room – his room. Yes, you’re both in his apartment. That’s his slate grey couch that you’re stumbling past and that’s his sheets that you fall backward against.

Licking his lips, Yoongi takes a moment to look down at you. You’re splayed out for him, unfurling in his sheets. He knows tomorrow morning they’ll still smell like you – jasmine, cedar, amber. You look divine, a flower unfolding delicate petals, open for him.

Only for him. Mine.

You wrap your legs around Yoongi, pulling him flush to the edge of the bed. You release him and press your feet to the bed, knees resting against his hips. You blink at him through fluttering lashes and starry eyes. He’s never seen anything like you. He never will again. He knows it.

“God damn you’re beautiful,” Yoongi murmurs, the words slipping through his lips, unrelenting.

The stars in your eyes vanish. Yoongi recoils, seeing the fathomless black threatening to eat him alive. He begins to pull away, terror shooting through his chest, sharp and angry. You squeeze your knees against his hips, nearly shattering him. Your mouth is a gash of red with rows and rows of black teeth, churning and churning.

“Don’t speak his name here,” you hiss, words slithering in layers of many different voices. “Never again.”

Yoongi blinks and you’re blushing as you look up at him, knees splayed like butterfly wings, open for him. Just for him. He smiles at the way you giggle and hide behind a hand. “You’re so sweet.”

“You are beautiful. I swear it.”

“Touch me.” Your voice drips honey-sweet on his senses. “I want to feel you, Yoongi. Please.”

There is a prickling sensation like fear at the base of his spine but Yoongi can’t remember why as he smiles at you lazily, dipping down between your legs. He props himself above you, hands planted on the mattress on either side of your head to cage you in.

“Ask me again.”

“Please. Please please please-“

Yoongi swallows your begging tongue first, delving into your luscious mouth.

It’s been a long time since he’s been in his room like this with a partner, much less with someone who looks the way you do, but Yoongi’s hands are confident as they sweep up your sides, pulling the fabric of your shirt up with his hands as they go. You lean upward, letting him pull it off you before it flies from his hand somewhere in the room.

The lights are off in his room, but a silver shaft of moonlight spills through the window to paint you silver. Your eyes reflect the light as you drink him in, his hands brushing up your arms, warming your skin as he traces them to your tits, palming them generously over your bra.

A sigh escapes through your parted lips, red lipstick smeared artfully from the clash of mouths and tongues. He dips back down, tongue hungry for your sugar-warm taste and the liquid heat of your mouth.

Yoongi is dizzy. He’s a little off balance as he breathes you in. Your fingers pull through the strands of his hair, hips canting upward as he reaches around to unclasp your bra, peeling the unwanted layer from you.

Heated, shameless eyes meet his. You tilt your chest toward him, eager for his mouth. He doesn’t miss a beat, placing wet kisses over the tops of your breasts, more tongue and spit than lips, leaving a slick trail to your right nipple. Yoongi’s mouth is possessive, sucking your pert but between his lips and flicking it lightly with his tongue, looking up where your lips part in the moonlight to let out a soft moan.

It spurs him further, plucking your nipple with his teeth, pulling any sound he can from you. He gets a loud whine then and you wiggle your hips under the weight of where his waist is pressed into yours. Grinning, Yoongi repeats the motion, giving a generous suck before pulling away with his teeth, gentling scrapping your peak.

“Fuck,” you whisper. “Feels so good.”

Yoongi trails chaste kisses from one nipple to the other, giving it the same attention. He snakes a hand down your body, fingers dancing across heated skin to pull at the zipper on your jeans. His hands tremble, making it difficult to free the first button.

Reluctantly, Yoongi pulls his mouth away from your breast, a glossy strand of spit connecting his mouth to your swollen skin as he looks down, using both hands to pop the button on your pants and tug violently at them.

“These jeans are the fucking devil.”

“Yes,” you murmur, so quietly that he can barely hear you. He gets them to your ankle, yanking one more time and tossing them. He loses your hushed words in the rustle of clothes hitting the floor when you whisper, “I am.”

“Hmm?” he asks.

You silence his question by pulling his shirt over his head, leaning to capture his exposed chest with your tongue and teeth. Yoongi stands between your legs, head falling tilting toward the heavens at the worship of your mouth.

Deep groans leave his mouth. You bite more than you kiss, but Yoongi likes the way your mouth leaves a trail of little teeth marks, your mouth pinching his flesh before your tongue soothes it. You have him trembling, nearly making him double over as your hand presses over his clothed cock firmly, applying the pressure he needs.

It’s not enough.

Every part of Yoongi feels exposed. Even half dressed, the world is brushing against him raw, every touch of your hands like pleasure and torture, every fan of your breath like the coldest breeze on a hot summer day.

None of the sensations make sense but he feels high – higher than that time he and Jimin took shrooms at that one festival in college where the lights had whispered secrets of the forest to Yoongi and where he had tasted something beyond what he could describe.

But under your carnal touch, Yoongi knows that is nothing compared to this. Nothing compares to the way you work his jeans down to his midthigh, too impatient for him to kick out of them before you’re dipping a hand in his briefs and taking his cock into your hand.

“Holy fuck,” Yoongi gasps, nearly toppling backward. Your grip is firm, strokes deft and confident and oh my god he might come like this.

You lean up to teeth at the pulse point of his neck as your tongue darts out to take a firm lick. “There is nothing holy about me, Min Yoongi,” you murmur against his neck. He shivers, eyes rolling behind closed lids as you speak. He can feel the trace of your incisors, sharper than he remembers against his skin.

Stars dance behind his eyes. You pull your hand away from his cock, making him protest. You hush him with a bite against his shoulder, sharp enough that he thinks you break skin. He doesn’t open his eyes, letting his world sweep from under his feet as you turn him and knock him onto the bed.

When the feeling of spinning stops a little, he blinks his eyes open to help you peel his clothes the rest of the way off. You’re fully naked and Yoongi doesn’t know where to keep his eyes. The swells of your breasts, marked with bite marks and spit from his mouth, the curves of your stomach and waist as you climb atop him, predatory and eager, or the glistening slick of your thighs where you’re dripping for him.

“Come here,” he demands. He’s dying to have you on his tongue, knows you’ll taste saccharine. He grabs your thighs harder than necessary, zeroing in on your pussy as he pulls you toward his mouth. “Wanna fucking taste. Bet you’re fucking delicious.”

You hum in delight, a lethal smile on your face as you crawl up to where he wants you, knees firmly on either side of his head. Yoongi lets out an appreciative noise. Your cunt is sticky and glossy for him, the perfect meal.

With gentle fingers, he parts your folds gently to reveal your slick, clenching hole and needy clit. Yoongi is eager, a finger trailing up and down your warm slit as he lets out a moan.

“Fucking wet,” he whispers before leaning up for a long, slow lick.

Stars explode behind his eyes. He hums in delight, shivering at the taste of you, heady on his tongue. He repeats the motion a few times, flattening his tongue for a slow-drag, appreciative lick up your cunt. He feels the way you drip into his mouth, spill on his chin and he can’t help but curse, at how addictive this feels.

You moan when he dips his tongue into your entrance, gathering your essence on the tip of his tongue before he drags it soft-slow up to your clit, circling your bundle of nerves lazily. Yoongi pulls your clit into his mouth with gentle lips, feeling the way it pulses as he sucks gently.

The sounds you make above him spur him further. He alternates between sucking your clit delicately and butterfly-soft tongue flutters, watching your mouth go slack as you watch him. The more you drip into his eager mouth, the greedier Yoongi gets, fastening his entire mouth on you and sucking harshly.

It becomes sloppy and imprecise. Yoongi can’t decide where he wants his mouth most. He can’t remember ever feeling this lightheaded from oral, much less giving. But he’s starstruck under you, sucking and sucking and sucking – fuck he doesn’t know if he’s even taking breaths.

“Feels so fucking good,” you whisper, a hand going to knot in his hair. His scalp tingles pleasantly where you hold onto him, his eyes fluttering shut. Your hips move slowly over his face. “Fuck keep going.”

Pride swells in his chest. Your voice is airy, breaths short and stilted and overwhelmed as he eats you vigorously. His fingers dimple your skin, pressing into the meat of your ass as he rocks you on his tongue, jaw slack, tongue flat for you to let you fuck yourself on his face the way you want.

Yoongi feels you drip down his face, hears the wet-smack of his mouth against your cunt. He moans. Buries his face further, letting you grind yourself on his nose, chin, mouth lips, anything. He doesn’t care, sticky-coated to the jaw, so fucked out from pleasing you that he almost blacks out when you cum.

Something happens.

He doesn’t know how to describe it – it’s like for a moment, everything goes dark. Perhaps he does blackout. Perhaps he wasn’t breathing. He can’t remember. All he knows is that between one heartbeat and the next, there’s a moment of pure darkness accompanied by a laugh that chills his spine.

And then your mouth is on him, spit and cum making the glide of your mouths sticky-sweet.

Yoongi sucks your tongue into his mouth, pressing his fingers gently to the back of your head, pulling you closer closer closer. He just wants you closer, his stomach burning with a sudden hunger for you. He feels on fire, skin too-warm where your chest slides against his, sweaty and flushed.

Sheets stick to every part of him. He’s aware of the sweat that slides down his neck, a cool finger of relief as you press him further and further into the mattress. He feels like he’s sinking, entering a new domain where he’s no longer in his room – he's just with you. Somewhere. Anywhere.

Your fingers claw at his hair, pulling the strands to pin him to the mattress as you lift yourself, looking down at Yoongi. He blinks, stars in his eyes as he starts up at you, looming. Glowing. Beautiful. His hands are on your hips, a sparking current humming just beneath the surface of your skin.

You feel alive and vibrant.

A moan escapes Yoongi’s mouth, pleasure rolling through him as you grind your cunt on his throbbing cock, warm and wet. His eyes flutter, Yoongi squirming under you, legs kicking and twitching as you tease him. Just the glide of you on his shaft makes him shiver, the pit of his stomach clenching.

“Please,” Yoongi rasps. His fingers dig into your hips, begging. Pleading. Desperate. “Please please please please.”

“You look so pretty when you beg.” Your grinding increases and the room spins. His hands fall from your hips to the sheets, fingers fisted tightly in the fabric. “You’re so beautiful, Yoongi. My Yoongi. Mine. Mine mine mine.”

Your words are lost on him. There’s only the firm touch of your hand against his cock, gripped tight at the base as you lift yourself. He feels his cockhead catch on your swollen entrance and he lets out a strangled noise. He doesn’t know if he can stop himself from cumming. He is bursting at the seams with heat, an inferno so intense he swears that the world catches fire as you slide down his cock, warm and tight.

“Shiiit,” Yoongi hisses. He takes a deep breath and holds it, hips twitching where you straddle his waist, letting him suffer beneath you.

“Feels good.” You lean forward, hands pressed to his chest to support your weight. Yoongi’s eyes flutter open. He blinks at you through wet lashes. The room is so dark he can only make out the barest features on your face, but he sees your eyes clearly. Looking at him. Watching. Hungry. “So good,” you repeat. “So fucking deep.”

Nails bite into the skin of his chest. He feels his skin smart. The hot bead of blood that forms. He doesn’t care, watching as slowly, you lift your hips, your walls hugging every inch of Yoongi. He lets out a shaky breath, hands settling on your waist. He plants his feet in the bed, angling himself better as you reach the tip of his cock before sinking back down.

Heaven and hell. Yoongi wavers between both, gritting his teeth to keep from coming, to keep the feeling of you gripping him tight going. He doesn’t want it to end, it feels so good but it’s wonderful agony, fighting the curl in his stomach, the twitching of his abs, the threat of exploding.

Yoongi's eyes are drawn to where you fuck yourself on him, sticky arousal turning silver in the single shaft of moonlight that spills across the bed where you’re joined. He can’t look away, entranced by the wet smack of your ass on his thighs, the way you just fucking take him.

It lights a fire in him more intensely than the solar flare that threatens to send him spinning into his orgasm. Yoongi growls, digging his nails into your skin, half-moons on smooth flesh as he grits his teeth and fucks up into you. You gasp, nails raking down his chest as he jostles you. His breath comes out as stilted hisses behind clenched teeth.

“Touch yourself for me,” he grits out. “Wanna feel you come all over me – please.”

“Gonna,” you pant, head falling to his chest, claws leaving pink lines on pale flesh. You slide one hand down his body, making him groan as he fucks you with abandon. You gasp, hand working your clit between your writhing bodies. “Gonna come.”

“Please - for me.” He thrusts hard, thighs trembling with the effort, holding his breath as his muscles squeeze. He can feel you tense, pussy clenching so tight he curses and stops, letting you pulse around him as you moan and an unintelligible string of curses that sounds... like another language. “Fuck, just like that.”

Yoongi feels himself come apart. His universe shatters and he floats among the stars. Weightless. Happy. Tired. He feels nothing and everything, a soft frequency of... something dancing along his skin. A soft buzz. Pleasant and warm.

He doesn’t know how long he exists in that space. He can still smell notes of cedar, jasmine and amber. It's stronger now, with a touch of something else... something burning. He leans into the smell and it wraps around him, soft hands around his middle and petal-soft lips against his cheek.

Yoongi becomes vaguely aware that it’s you curled into his side, nose hidden in his neck, chest rising and falling against his arm. It grounds him a little. Brings him back into a dark room that is too obscure to be sure it’s his bedroom at all.

As he drifts off into sleep, he remembers the feeling of your tongue against his neck and nothing more.

Cedar. Jasmine. Amber.

It wakes Yoongi up. His stomach feels empty. His hands seek your warmth, palming your ass, pulling your hips flush to his. He doesn’t open his eyes, content to feel your heat. Again, something like electricity thrums under your skin, tickling his wandering hands.

Your mouth catches his. Pulls him further from sleep. He feels his skin ache from your teeth and nails the night before. Feels the weight of something inside of him that wasn’t there before, although he cannot put into words what it is.

Even in the morning, your mouth is sweet. Gluttonous. You suck his bottom lip between your teeth, nibbling softly followed by a light giggle. He smiles into the next kiss, sloppy and filled with too much tongue but he lets you taste him.

Yoongi swears there is an echo of your taste from the night before. It’s enough to kickstart desire in him, detaching his mouth to plant kisses down your neck. Chest. Stomach. His tongue licks a trail down your velvet skin.

In a shuffle of sheets and skin, you lay back for him, pliant. He’s awake now, pressing your thighs open, teeth nipping the tender flesh. You giggle and the sound makes him pause, lips pressed to your leg, eyes looking up at you in the dim light of the morning. Or night. It’s hard to tell what time it is, here with you in this bed.

Glowing eyes look at him. Round. Soft. Curious. You watch Yoongi with rapt attention, lip pulled between your teeth. Spread. Eager. Ethereal.

Yoongi drops his gaze, groaning when he sees how fucking wet you are. He pulls you closer, sliding a hand under your ass to provide support. Curious, he brushes his thumb up and down your folds, collecting your essence as he does.

“So swollen and wet,” he mumbles, morning voice deep and scratchy. “You’re always so ready to be eaten, hmm?”

You nod. “Please, Kitty.”

The new nickname makes him pause, thumb resting on your clit. He can almost feel your cunt throb under the pad of his finger as he applies a little pressure, watching you whine and kick your legs a bit. He grins.

“Kitty?” he asks as he resumes playing with you. His thumb dips into your hole, ring of muscles clenching around him. His grin spreads as he pulls it away, watching you fight with the loss.

“You have- ughhh – cat eyes. Pretty. Soft. Smart. Kitty.”

He hums, dipping his head forward to give you a single kitten lick. He shuts his eyes and sighs heavily, your taste heavy on his tongue. You taste just as good as the night before. “Cute,” he murmurs, more to himself. “I like it, baby.”

Yoongi doesn’t wait for a response. He presses in, tongue lapping at you hungrily, refusing to let you drip without his mouth for another moment.

Greedy.

You’re greedy. You always are. Yoongi isn’t sure what day it is. It might be the same night as when he brought you home or it could be the weekend or it could be next week. He somewhat remembers the taste of a meal. Some cool water. But he doesn’t recall when he made it or when he showered.

He only knows he showered because he smelled the mint soap on your skin a few moments ago when you had your mouth attached to his throat.

Now, your mouth swallows his cock whole, throat pulsing around him. He curses, fingers twisting in your hair as he listens to you choke. Feels your drool dripping down his thighs. You relent, pulling back with a slick sound. He looks down at you between half-moon eyes, lashes fluttering.

You’re a vision: bruised lips smeared in spit and cum, chin covered in slick, watery, round eyes that blink up at him, innocent despite the fact that you rub the flushed tip of his cock against your abused mouth.

“Fuck,” he swears, watching your devilish tongue snake out to lap at his dark tip. “Fucking cock hungry, huh?”

You nod your head, trailing your tongue along the bottom of his shaft, taking time to suck slopping kisses to his skin. He can’t look away, even as you pump him lazily with your small hand, ravenous little mouth sucking coyly at his balls.

His fist tights in your hair. You look up, tears spilling over rounded cheeks. You look angelic at that moment, weeping before him. He nearly busts right there.

“Does Kitty like when I do that?” You ask softly, voice almost a whisper. Your voice changes, he’s noticed. Sometimes coming out dark velvet, other times tangerine-sweet. “Am I a good girl, Kitty?”

You always call him that. He wasn’t sure about it at first, but with a mouth full of his precum and neck covered in his teeth marks, Yoongi thinks you can call him whatever the fuck you want. He’s never seen a creature so drunk off fucking him before and he’s no better. All he wants to do is fucking live in you.

“Such a good girl,” Yoongi promises. He holds your head with one hand and your chin with the other, pulling your bottom lip down with one thumb. His touch is soft and reverent. You preen for him, smiling around his thumb as he slips it in your mouth and presses on your tongue. Feels the spit and god knows what else there. “Come on, baby. Suck.”

And you do. Yoongi’s eyes roll back in his head. He falls backward on his bed and it feels like he has passed through a portal to somewhere else. He floats. All he knows is your mouth, unforgiving. Your tongue, sinful.

And when Yoongi comes down your throat, and when you pull off of him and smile at him with the slow drip of it, Yoongi feels like he’s in fucking heaven.

Monday he calls out of work.

Crunching numbers at an accounting firm seems like hell in comparison to where he is now. You’re bent over the kitchen counter, drooling on the granite as he slowly drags his cock through your drenched heat. He ignores the spilled glass of water next to you. Instead, he watches himself disappear deep into your cunt, collecting cream on the base of his cock every time he pulls out.

Yoongi senses you looking at him. You are, eyes intense and heavy. Your gaze shifts so often he can barely keep up – thinks maybe he imagines the way you go from soft, round-eyed sweetheart to a siren-eyed vixen.

It’s the vixen look at him now. And as though you can read his mind, you slick your tongue out of your mouth, bubble gum pink and eager, eyes dragging down to where he works himself in and out.

Yoongi pulls out slowly, running a finger along your arousal smeared along his shaft, and leans forward, thrusting in hard. You pant, tongue still out and eyes focused on his as Yoongi delicately places his cum-slick finger in your mouth. Presses your cream on your tongue.

Your lips close around his finger, tongue swirling around the digit as you shut your eyes and hollow your cheek, gently sucking your arousal until there’s nothing left.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he whispers, in awe of you.

And you are. There’s nothing you won’t do for him. Nothing Yoongi won’t do for you. So he slams into you, deep deep deep, and grunts until you’re coming around him for what feels like the hundredth time since he’s met you.

Yoongi startles awake. He blinks away a dream that he immediately cannot remember. His skin is clammy and his sheets stick to him all over. He kicks them off, heart hammering as he jumps to his feet, trying to get away from the bed.

He doesn’t know why, but he feels danger near him with every slam of his heart.

For a few moments, he’s in total darkness. He can’t make out the shape of his dresser. Or the pile of clothes in the hamper. He can’t see any light filtering through the window. He knows there’s a streetlight out there – why isn’t the light streaming through his curtains?

Panic threatens to seize him. He takes a deep breath and presses the heels of his palms to his eyes, rubbing fiercely. He opens them, bursts of starlight blinding him until they fade finally and he can see.

There’s a shadow in front of him, all razor teeth and red eyes.

Yoongi screams, flinching backward. He topples over and feels weightless like he’s falling through time and space. The moment of fear stretches out long – too long – and for a second he thinks he will die. His heart is beating too hard in his chest, his mind is screaming too loud, and the adrenaline threatens to crack him open and spill out on the floor.

He hits the curtain behind him and fists the fabric, ripping the entire rod and holders down backward as he goes. Streetlight pours into the room. He thrashes, blind and screaming among the now ruined curtains, the curtain rod, and drywall dust.

Yoongi frees himself, grabbing the rod to defend himself against the creature in a last-ditch effort to live.

Grey light saturates the room. There’s no shadow creature with teeth and red eyes. There’s just you in the middle of his bed, the reflection of the street light turning your doe-eyes to glowing coins. You’re in a t-shirt of his, soft and crinkled, hair messy. Lip trembling.

“Kitty?” Your voice is small. Almost childlike. “Kitty are you okay?”

The panic beat of his heart slows. He swallows down nausea and realizes his shaking, the remaining waves of adrenaline taking their toll. Yoongi lets go of the curtain rod and nods, pressing his head into the wall.

“I’m sorry,” he rasps. Throat dry. You move on the bed – more of a prowl – and you flick the lamp light on. Warmth rushes into the room and with it, relief. “Thank you.”

“What happened, Kitty?”

“A nightmare. I got up and … I don’t know. I thought I saw something.”

You sit on your knees. Hands in your lap, one palm splayed on your thigh, the other lifted toward him. Beckoning. Open. Warm. Safe. He peels himself from the wreckage by the window and walks toward you, feeling as though there is a string between you and him, tethering you to him. Reeling him in.

When Yoongi’s hand touches yours, exhaustion bleeds into him. Safe. He is safe. You smile and there are no razor teeth. Just kiss-stained lips as you shuffle backward, pulling Yoongi back into the bed.

“Come sleep, Kitty.”

“Okay.”

Carefully, he turns off the lamp. The streetlight floods his room now, but it’s comforting, the grey wash of the world enough that he can see anything creeping in the shadows.

Eventually, he falls back asleep with the slow drag of your hand back and forth across his forehead, and your mouth pressing gentle sucks to the side of his throat.

“Where are you going?”

Yoongi almost smiles at the pout on your face. You stand in his kitchen, brows pinched, mouth furious. You’re in another one of his shirts – there is nothing else for you to wear. His grin spreads as he comes around the counter, placing his messenger bag down.

Somehow you seem so much smaller in the daylight. Yoongi swears when you’re riding him in the early hours of the morning or when he has you on all fours fucking you deep into his mattress, you’re a force to be reckoned with. A fierce creature feeds on carnal pleasure only.

But now in the light of day, with your bottom lip jutting out and scowling brows, Yoongi thinks there is nothing more adorable. His perfect baby. You reach out, opening and closing your hands and he laughs.

“Work,” he answers gently, pulling you toward him. You don’t fight him. You never fight him. Yoongi is always your top priority – you’ve made that obvious. He smells the cedar. Jasmine. Amber. His head swims and for a moment, he forgot what you asked.

Moments like this with your skin touching, that high-frequency current that is unfamiliar but feels so good – Yoongi forgets himself. Every time he touches you, he’s somewhere else.

His phone rings and he remembers he’s supposed to leave. “I have work.”

Your scowl gets worse. “What am I supposed to do?”

“Whatever you want.”

“I want to be with you.”

He laughs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. When he pulls away, you’re almost snarling, gripping him like iron. He sighs and squeezes your hips for reassurance. “I’ll leave a little early, yeah? For you.”

“Do you promise?”

“Of course, I promise.” Your lip wobbles and he leans forward again, nipping you. “Get some sleep. You woke me up very early this morning, hmm?”

You don’t answer, but you loosen your grip.

When he gets in the car, he sees the curtain in his living room shift and he grins. Cute.

Work drags. Yoongi’s in a bad mood. His coffee is extra bitter. The water tastes off. The fluorescents in his office are too bright, prompting him to turn them off. When he begins auditing his client’s monthly spending, the numbers swim on screen.

Yoongi takes his glasses off. Puts them back on. He swears that he sees symbols and that the screen glitches, flashing between letters and numbers and… something he’s unsure of. When he rubs his eyes, the screen is just numbers in an Excel sheet.

Sighing in defeat, he glances at the clock. It’s only been an hour.

“Fuck.”

He pulls his phone out, thumb hovering over the screen. Your contact information is in his phone, right? The silence in his office is deafening. It presses in on him as he stares at his phone, unseeing. Why didn’t he have your phone number? Shouldn’t a boyfriend have their-

A knock at the door startles him. He drops his phone, mumbling an apology as he bends down to get it before righting himself and looking at his director.

“How are you feeling?”

Yoongi shrugs. “A little off.”

And… it’s true. Yoongi’s head hurts suddenly, a migraine slamming on the confines of his skull. His too-bitter coffee burns in his stomach. The back of his neck feels too hot and his hands shake as he puts his phone on his desk.

“You don’t look too well. Maybe take the day?”

Yoongi nods. Sways a little when he stands up to retrieve his things and turns his computer off. On the drive home, the headache recedes a little. He grips the wheel tight, taking deep breaths as he tries to steady the feeling in the pit of his stomach.

In the drive, Yoongi takes a deep breath. The pressure in his head is gone and his stomach doesn’t feel as rotten as it did twenty minutes ago. He makes a mental note to look up his symptoms when he gets inside – perhaps he has the flu. It won’t do to feel this way before his client’s quarterly financial reports are due.

Thankfully, when Yoongi steps into his house, he feels much better.

Feels fine as he drops to his knees in the entryway, tongue buried hungrily in your cunt as he presses you hard against the door, drinking in every drop. Above him, you tremble and cry, begging him never to leave again.

When you cum on his tongue, creamsicle sweet, he thinks he never will.

Pain shoots up Yoongi’s foot as he stubs his toe making his way to the bathroom. He can barely see in his room now that he has fixed the curtains – and put blackout ones at your request – and the floor is covered with his shoes and chargers and boxes of snacks you keep in his bedroom like a nest.

He has never in his life seen someone with an appetite for junk food like you – especially sweets.

Yoongi opens the bathroom, the gentle, white glow of the night light casting a dull halo against the whitewash walls. He glances in the mirror and his heart launches into his throat. His hand slams against the door for balance and a moment of terror bleeds him dry when he sees the shadow behind him, white teeth flashing and red eyes.

Whirling around, Yoongi’s hand shoots for the light, painfully jamming fingers against stucco. He manages to flip the switch while his heart pulses in his throat, terror working its way through him like an injection straight into his cardiovascular system.

Light spills into the room, so bright that he flinches, closing his eyes for a second. When he opens them, there’s nothing. It’s just his messy room, covered in clothes, empty and half-full bottles of lube, a generous amount of junk food, and you.

Asleep. Soft against his pillows, lips parted slightly.

Breathing a huge sigh of relief, Yoongi chastises himself and shuts the bathroom door. A few splashes of cold water from the tap do the trick, calming him down and cooling the red splotches of anxiety blooming on his neck.

When he returns to bed, your hands seek his warmth, making grabbing motions even in sleep. He indulges you, sliding closer. Tucking you into his chest. You hum in your sleep, that vibrating feeling that lives just under your skin ever-present.

Gently you lean forward, mouth seeking as you press your lips against the soft spot under his ear. He shivers as the innocent kiss turns into a soft suckle, pulling skin between teeth your tongue pressed against his flesh. But you don’t wake up. You seem content to lay in his arms with the gentle pull of your mouth against his skin, smelling like cedar. Jasmine. Amber.

And he falls asleep, moment of terror forgotten.

Yoongi has a problem.

Time management was always one of his strong suits. As someone who lived an organized little life in an organized little home, he thrived on order, repetition of days, and knowing what to expect each day.

Except now Yoongi never remembers what day it is. He hardly remembers how he spends his day. But what he does remember are moments with you. Bodies against bodies. The press of his fingers in your sticky cunt. Your curious fingers, pressing into the tight rim of his ass, pulling out orgasms so deep that it takes him hours to move.

Now, you’re pressed against him on the couch, eyes fixed on the TV. He watches you and you watch the screen, completely focused on the world of Spirited Away. His lips twitch in a smile and he yawns. You snuggle closer to him, nearly attached. It’s second nature to you, to fasten yourself to him. He doesn’t mind, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

When Yoongi’s phone rings, it interrupts everything. You immediately hiss, looking toward the ringing device on the counter. He can’t remember the last time his phone rang but he begins to lift himself off of the couch.

Your fingers dig in. “Finish the movie.”

It’s a demand. He laughs as your brow pinches. “I’ll be right back, let me just see who it is.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why don’t you want to watch the movie with me?”

Your voice has grown small again. Not the sultry purr he is used to in the middle of the night when you mouth at his cock, hard before he’s even awake. Not the demanding crack of a whip when you order him to come.

This voice is tiny, a soft thing that immediately draws him to look at you. He cradles your face, your big eyes looking at him with tears rimming them. His stomach drops and he hushes you, thumbs brushing back and forth.

“Fuck – baby why are you crying?”

“Why don’t you want to watch the movie, Kitty?”

“Hey, Kitty wants to watch the movie.” He croons and you pull yourself into his lap, arms going around his neck and winding in his hair. He keeps a soft grip on your face, eyes searching. That thrum is just beneath the surface, like a beating heart. “I just have to answer the phone, baby. I still want to watch the movie.”

You shake your head. “You don’t.”

“Of course I do.”

It isn’t often that Yoongi upsets you. He vaguely recalls one time when he left for work, you had been a bit sad. But ever since he’d started working from home – wait, he works from home? He shakes the question from his thoughts, saving it for later.

It isn’t often that Yoongi upsets you. He vaguely recalls one time when he left for work, you had been a bit sad. And now you sit on his lap and he hates himself for the way a tear slips down your face, turned into a diamond from the reflection of the TV.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, heart aching in his chest. He leans back. He pulls you flush against his chest. You tuck your face in his neck, your favorite spot to nuzzle and he feels the gentle tuck of your mouth, the tiny suckle of your teeth against his neck. Your comfort.

It isn’t often that Yoongi upsets you. He vaguely -

He doesn’t remember. What was he thinking about? He doesn’t know.

Yoongi loops his arms around you and squeezes you tight. And his eyes flutter shut, suddenly tired and lulled to sleep by the gentle pull of your mouth on his skin.

“Come look at this cat,” Yoongi laughs, crouching down on the back porch. The tabby rubs itself between his legs, purring as it twists figure eights. “It’s so friendly, baby. Come say hi.”

Night sky stretches over the city. It’s colder outside – almost Halloween, maybe. Yoongi lost the calendar in his house and he only turns the computer on if he has to sign on for work, which he rarely does these days.

You peek from the door, looking at the cat rubbing its face on Yoongi’s hand. He looks up at you and smiles. You’re swimming in a sweater of his, though your legs are bare. His mouth waters at the thought of tasting you again – he can’t ever get enough, licking the sweetness from between your thighs only to finish by fucking himself into you until he blacks out.

The blackouts happen more after sex now.

“He’s sweet,” Yoongi promises, holding out another hand to you. “Like you.”

Tentatively, you step outside of the door. The floorboard creaks under your step, drawing the cat’s attention. It happens so fast that Yoongi falls from his crouched position, sitting abruptly on the floor. The cat lets out a terrible sound, somewhere between a horrible yowl and a hair-raising hiss.

A blur of claws and teeth, Yoongi yells as the sharp talons catch him, letting the cat go. It becomes a streak of fur and screeching, vanishing from the yard.

You rush to him, dropping down to hold his scratched hands, blood surfacing.

“No!” You look up at him, holding his hand gently to your chest. He feels the strange hum, the heartbeat that… isn’t a beating heart as much as a constant buzz. “Are you okay, Kitty? You’re hurt.”

“It’s okay.” He smiles. The fear in your eyes is heartwarming. You love him – he knows this. He feels it. “Sorry it startled you.”

Autumn sun beats down on Yoongi as he goes to peel logs from the stack of firewood in the backyard. As he jogs down the steps, he slows, frowning. There’s a dead tabby at the foot of the stairs, broken body and dark blood smeared underneath.

“Weird,” he mutters, rushing to get some firewood. “I’ve never seen cats here before. Poor thing.”

When he goes back inside the house, he sees you sitting on the counter. Spread. Finger tracing up and down glistening folds, swollen cunt begging for his mouth. Yoongi drops the wood. He zeros in, licking his lips as you spread your legs a little wider.

“What a perfect fucking pussy,” Yoongi grins. “That for me?”

You nod. “Please, Kitty.”

Yoongi forgets about the dead cat.

“I want candy.” Yoongi looks up at you, brows raised. You’re standing in the middle of the aisle at the grocery store, chewing your bottom lip as you look at him with hopeful eyes. Yoongi immediately softens. Feels his heart flutter. “Is that okay?”

“Sure.” He looks up at the aisle names. “It’s three aisles over. Can you get what you want while I go back and get milk? I forgot.”

You hesitate for a moment, a moment of fear on your face. Before he can brush away your fears with a simple kiss, you take a deep breath and give him your bravest smile. He preens, proud as you give a confident nod and dart off in the direction of candy.

Yoongi is impressed by you. Leaving the house is hard for you – always has been. The two of you mostly stay inside, locked in your little world. Yoongi likes it that way. Loves knowing after dinner you’ll be nested on the couch, watching him with inquisitive eyes and asking him to put on a new show or to continue the anime you’ve been binging.

Every new experience for you brings stars to your eyes. He loves that about you – loves the way you go awestruck while watching old anime that Yoongi adores, or the way you hum and spin in circles to music he shows you.

Yoongi remembers hearing once that people live many lives. He thinks that if that’s true, you must be in your first life, curious about everything. Surprised by the world. And he gets to watch it over and over, the way you grin when something startles you or when you furiously pout because you don’t like something.

Grocery store trips are new for you. The first time, you’d been stitched to his side, refusing to separate from him. Cagey and flashing mean eyes at everyone. Now, though, Yoongi doesn’t worry as he pulls open one of the glass doors in the cold section, looking for milk.

“Yoongi?” He turns mid-reach for a carton of milk, the cold air hitting him in the face and turning his cheeks pink, glass frosting with the humidity rushing into the fridge. Taehyung is standing behind him, hands shoved into pockets. “Holy shit it is you.”

Yoongi gives Taehyung a funny smile, pulling the milk from the fridge and adding it to his cart. “Why wouldn’t it be? How are you?”

“Dude, how are you? You don’t answer anyone’s calls, I heard you started working at home from some sort of illness, and you refuse to answer your door when we come by.” Taehyung’s face is picture-perfect concern, brown eyes fixed on Yoongi, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. “Why can’t you tell us what’s going on? It’s been weeks.”

“What are you talking about? I talked to you two weeks ago.”

Taehyung cocks his head. His brows furrow and an unsettling feeling flips Yoongi’s stomach. He remembers the call exactly. Recites their conversation back to Taehyung, but before Yoongi can finish, his friend is shaking his head.

“We never had that conversation, Yoongi.”

Taehyung takes a step closer. Yoongi’s heart starts pounding. He remembers talking to Taehyung. He had been standing in the kitchen when his phone rang, and you had handed him his phone. Yoongi remembers because he had been half-paying attention to the conversation, transfixed by the way your eyes caught the light and the way you watched him catch up with Taehyung.

But… another thought swirls in Yoongi’s mind. A vision of you slamming the phone down on the counter, shattering it. Yoongi begging you to stop – stop something – and then your soft lips on him.

He shakes his head, setting the thoughts free.

“What’s going on?” Taehyung asks, moving past his cart to get closer. Yoongi backs up. He doesn’t know why, but it’s automatic. He feels panic surge as Taehyung pauses. “Are you sick or-“

Maybe he is. Yoongi knows he talked to Taehyung and yet… doubt wiggles into his mind. Eats at it like a worm. There feels like there is a box somewhere tucked in the recesses of his memory, shielded and without a key. If he applies pressure on it, he gets a headache.

Licking his lips, Yoongi places his trembling hands on the cart. Looks at Taehyung. Sees the pleading in his friend’s eyes. Yoongi opens his mouth to ask when Taehyung thinks they last spoke and -

“Kitty?”

Your soft voice cuts the anxiety in half. Yoongi’s thoughts ease as you appear a few feet away from them, bags of candy in hand. Your doll face morphs into unease when you look at Taehyung. Yoongi wonders why that is – you’ve talked to Taehyung plenty of times. You encourage Yoongi to call him.

“You?” Taehyung asks. The vehemence in his voice startles Yoongi. “You’re still around? Jesus Yoongi, have you been shacked up with some girl you met at a bar this entire time?”

Words have consequences. Taehyung’s immediately has an effect, your expression going from soft and sweet to something that makes Yoongi’s hands grip the push-bar on the cart tightly.

“He has nothing to do with it.” Your voice is a layered hiss. A tingle slides down Yoongi’s neck – familiar and dangerous. He has the sudden urge to bolt, but his feet are rooted to the ground as you advance, putting yourself between the two men. “Yoongi hasn’t been feeling well. I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

“I’m one of his best friends!”

Taehyung is one of his best friends. And Jimin. And Seokjin. Yoongi remembers sitting on a stool at Serendipity, listening to Old Ass Han tell him some superstition about female demons who snatched one of his sons in the middle of the night. Jimin had laughed so hard and made Old Ass Han so mad that Jimin covered his tab for the night.

It was such a funny memory that the next Halloween, Jimin had dressed up as a sultry, female demon. Yoongi vaguely recalls laughing with them into the night, especially when Jimin picked up a guy to go home with that night.

Yoongi is full of those memories – at least he was. He thinks he is.

The little place in his mind that feels inaccessible cracks a little and Yoongi winces, a headache splitting him open. He clutches his temple as a bolt of pain lances through his skull. Then your hands are on him, gentle and cradling his face. You’re saying something but he can’t hear you over the high-pitched ringing in his ears.

Colors dance across his vision as Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut, trying to pant through the pain. The pain doesn’t come from that tiny little box in his mind – it comes from somewhere else. Pulling him away from whatever is hidden there, in that dark little forgotten corner.

Suddenly, it becomes too much and darkness swallows him whole.

The last thing Yoongi remembers is the gentle kiss of your mouth on his neck.

Yoongi has a problem.

He’s getting headaches all the time. Sometimes he wakes up in the middle of the night with them, sharp pain digging behind his eyes. It always worsens when he tries to recall the dreams he has before he wakes up – he knows he has dreams. They’re on the tip of his tongue. But the more he thinks about them, the more he tries to draw up what he imagined, the more the pain grows.

The bed sinks as you crawl in next to him. It’s too hot in bed. Sheets cling to Yoongi’s skin. He feels like there’s a furnace under the mattress, burning through and making everything sweaty and sticky. He shifts a little away from you – your body is always warm, skin heated with the thrum of energy beneath the surface.

Cedar. Jasmine. Amber. Your scent swells as you tuck yourself close to him. Not touching, but Yoongi can sense you there, an awareness tingling along his skin. It’s happened a few times, where a second awareness blinks an eye open and Yoongi feels on edge. Like there is suddenly an instinct inside of him that has awakened, one he is unfamiliar with.

That awareness yawns. Blooms at the back of his mind, where that same throbbing ache has settled. Yoongi tries to steady his breathing, but he can feel his pulse against his pillow, thumping faster and faster as your cloying scent muddles his thoughts.

You don’t say anything. You don’t reach out and touch him. You just lay there, silent and omnipresent. Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut, and for the first time in a very long time, he wishes that you would go to the other room and watch TV. You love watching TV. Sometimes he finds you sitting in front of it on the floor, knees tucked to your chest, chin on top of your knees while you watch a variety of shows.

Though it seems you have settled on Tokyo Ghoul as your favorite.

“Kitty?” you whisper. He holds his breath. Perhaps if he pretends he is asleep, you’ll go to sleep too. Long beats of silence stretch between you, filled only with the sound of Yoongi’s measured breathing. “I’m sorry.”

He pauses. “Hmm?”

“I’m sorry.”

Yoongi swallows past a knot in his throat. Every muscle in his body is clenching. His fingers are fisted in his blankets, and he’s curled into a ball. He doesn’t remember feeling so braced. He tries to relax, letting himself melt in the bed a little.

“For what?”

“You… need space.”

He doesn’t need to turn around to hear the tremble in your voice. You sniffle a little. The lamp on his bed flickers, catching his attention. He watches the flicker of the bulb as you cry softly behind him. He wants to turn around – wants to gather you in his arms and tuck you into his chest and yet… he doesn’t.

“A little,” Yoongi admits softly.

“Okay.”

Licking his lips, Yoongi steels himself. He rolls over in bed to look at you. You’re buried in one of his hoodies and the blanket he likes to sleep with on the couch. He can barely make out your cherubic face. Your round eyes blink at him, pools of light in the darkness of the hoodie and blanket.

“I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“Okay.”

He softens. It’s not so warm in the bed anymore, so he reaches across the space, finding your hand clutched in the blanket. You let him pry your fingers open and he traces your palm. “Just a little space, okay? I can sleep on the couch tonight.”

You shake your head. “No.”

“Baby-“

“I’m not tired.”

Your voice is firm. He knows that voice – it’s the one that precedes a tantrum if he’s not careful. He nods, pulling a hand away and sighing, closing his eyes. He is tired. He realizes just how tired he is.

“Good night, Kitty.”

Most days it’s easier to placate you.

Yoongi feels like he is worn at the edges. Hot water runs down his neck, his back. Relieves a deep ache that has begun to grow on his bones, pained turned lichen. He feels like a watercolor painting with too much liquid medium, running at the edges and blurring across a once-beautiful canvas.

Sleep comes every night, but Yoongi still wakes up tired. He misses meetings even though he has been working from home for… however long. He doesn’t know where his cell phone is. He lost it somewhere in the house – doesn’t need it much.

Water drips onto the floor as he steps out of the shower. He watches it run down milky legs, soaking into the towel. Steam permeates the air and slicks across the mirror, Yoongi’s reflection as opaque and bleary as he feels.

Yoongi heaves a heavy yawn, wiping a hand across the steam in preparation to shave. When his eyes look up at the three-paneled mirror, a shadowed creature with rows of gnashing teeth and red eyes is behind him.

A scream rips its way out of his throat, the terror is so awful that Yoongi’s knees buckles. He hits the tile hard, head smacking the cabinet. His world explodes into color as he blinks the stars from his eyes, scrambling with damp legs, slipping uselessly on the steamed tile as he backs himself into the corner of the wall and sink.

There’s nothing there. Just an open doorway.

For a few seconds, it’s just Yoongi’s heart pounding so hard that his stomach roils. He fumbles for the toilet, flipping the lid and rolling to his knees to heave the contents of dinner into the bowl. He gasps for air, stinging his vomit-burned throat as he throws up again. Stomach-churning. Lungs screaming.

When he flushes and settles against the bathtub, he hears the TV in the living room. Cool air drifts in from his bedroom. He closes his eyes and takes in deep breaths, counting in for seven and out for seven. There’s the soft patter of your feet on the carpet, and he can sense you in the doorway.

His spine always tingles when you’re around.

“Kitty? Are you okay?”

“Don’t feel good.”

“Oh kitty,” you whisper. He keeps his eyes closed. You slide closer to him and your hands are warm. When they touch his face, he feels a little energy pour back into him and he opens his eyes. You’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, still. “I’m sorry.”

“Why sorry?”

You chew on your lip. “I’m sorry.”

It feels like you say that a lot these days. Yoongi nods his head and closes his eyes again as you lean forward and press yourself to his side, giving him a gentle kiss.

The headache is bad. But he has to know. Lays in his bed writhing in the sheets.

Ithurtsithurtsithurtsithurts.

Memories crack across his mind, each one hurting more than the last.

A creature of shadow. Blacking out after sex. A dead cat that hadn’t always been dead. Your innocent eyes. Your angry eyes. You smashing his phone to pieces. A doctor forging him a medical note. Blood on your hands and face as you came out of the doctor’s office.

For the first time in a long time, Yoongi has energy. He feels more himself. Clearer. He gets up early in the morning and makes himself coffee. He sees you lurking near the fridge, throwing him wary glances. You’re a little more worn than usual: sallow cheeks, bags under your eyes. Your eyes are as starry.

When he asks you what’s wrong, you don’t answer. You duck into the bedroom and shut the door firmly behind you. He stares, a little confused and hurt before sighing. You’re touchy sometimes, and on the days like this where you’re more like a feral cat than a preening girlfriend, he knows to keep his distance.

Yoongi shrugs and tosses the sugar packet in the trash, frowning. There are empty bottoms of foam that are stained red - meat packages, he realizes. He doesn’t recall having steak at all this week, but perhaps you’re thawing it in the fridge for dinner.

He shrugs and goes to his office, leaving you to your devices.

A morning meeting kickstarts his day, and Yoongi forgets about it.

Yoongi has a problem.

You’re worse. You don’t want to come out of his room and you won’t go near the light. There are harsh lines around your eyes and he swears your teeth are sharper. More lethal. You won’t sleep in the same bed as he is.

Worst of all? Yoongi feels great. Feels like perhaps it was just a depressive episode he was in. He no longer feels like he is melted together at the edges, barely hanging on. But it does mean that he’s getting frustrated with you.

“Feral,” he mutters as he walks into his office after you snarled at him and then proceeded to cry because you wanted him to take the day off. “Sometimes I swear she is feral.”

Soft lips wake Yoongi up in the middle of the night. He stirs, feeling a tingle run down his spine. He can smell cedar, jasmine and amber and smiles. You’re pressed against him, mouth seeking his delicately, though there is some urgency behind your kisses.

Yoongi opens his mouth to you, an invitation. You suck his tongue into your mouth greedily and arousal shoots to his cock, your mouth doing wonders on his tongue. Fuck he knows you like to suck him off like that too, all greedy and sloppy and spit-slicked.

Your hands pull at his shirt and you kiss him with more fervor, lips becoming teeth, moans becoming hisses. When Yoongi rolls onto his back, pulling your hips on top of him, the dynamic changes.

A gasp escapes his kiss-bruised lips, eyes flying open as you mark his throat. Harsh stings of teeth followed quickly by lavish licks of your tongue. It’s messy and you leave a trail of spit dripping down his neck, making him squirm underneath you, cock tight against his pajama shorts.

“Fuck,” he moans when you suck that spot under his ear he loves. “Greedy devil.”

“Yes,” you shoot back, voice firm. Your hands seek his, pulling them from where they massage your ass to pin them above his head, your grip iron. “Please.”

There’s no way she’s human.

Taehyung’s words flash through Yoongi’s mind when he looks up at you. Your pupils are dilated, two black disks that absorb the barest hint of light in the room. He shivers, afraid of falling into your dark eyes and never finding his way back home.

Have your eyes always been that soulless? No, he thinks.

“Please,” you say again. “Please let me have you.”

He frowns. “You can always have me.”

You shake your head. “Not always. Too much. I take… I take too much. But now not enough. I just…” Your lip trembles and where you hold his wrist begins to ache. He whimpers and you hush him, your fingers loosening a little. “I just need some. Not a lot.”

It’s hard to understand what you’re asking for. Yoongi is lost in the sensation of fluttering in his stomach and the way blood rushes through his body. He feels high when you dip one of your hands below the waistband of his pajamas, taking a hold of his cock in your hand, thumb brushing precum from the tip.

You always take care of Yoongi. His eyes flutter shut as he feels a steady static build in his brain. Your touch is careful but deliberate, each stroke of your hand and squeeze of his shaft sending him spinning. His hips twitch under you.

When you shift down his body, he lifts his lower half off the bed, kicking at the sheets and letting you tug his bottoms down. He’s shaking and eager, unable to look down at you when you take him fully in your hand, tongue tasting the stickiness at his tip.

“Fuck,” he whispers. His hands are still above him, twisted in the pillowcase. He leaves them there, helpless as you tongue the head of his dick before sucking it into your mouth. Your tongue is gentle and your mouth is warm, the barest of sucks making him whine. “Don’t tease me.”

You hum and the vibrations make him speechless. His head rolls to the side, mouth parted, panting as he sees stars. You suck him eagerly, messily. He hears the wet pull of your mouth, the choked cough of your throat when you take him in deep and swallow.

Gentle nails scratch down his legs. He feels like he’s disconnected from the rest of the world, a single strand tethering him as he floats. He babbles as you take him in deep, a hand reaching down below his balls, a single, shy finger pressing against his tight rim.

Everything inside of Yoongi goes taught. He comes immediately and without warning. Spills in your mouth and the world fades away. There is nothing where he goes. No memories, no thoughts, no anxiety. It’s just Yoongi and he feels good – the kind of warm from a bubble bath laden with creams and salts.

Eventually, he comes back down. Opening his eyes, Yoongi sees you blink down at him. You smile, brushing light finger strokes over flushed cheeks. He grins up at you, elated. Hypnotized. You’re so… he doesn’t know the word.

There’s no way she’s human.

That phrase makes Yoongi’s smile falter. You are exquisite. Shrouded in darkness. Yoongi feels the press of unfamiliar air. When he looks beyond you, there’s just darkness. There is nothing. No light streams in from the window again. There is no soft hum of the nightlight in the bathroom where he usually leaves the door open now.

It’s just you.

Yoongi’s heart begins to speed up, panic rising.

You kiss him softly. It’s sweet and his anxiety melts away. Feels the weight of you on your hips, wet pussy dripping on his thigh. You’re being patient, which surprises him. Usually by now you’re needy, grinding your cunt on his thigh to seek friction.

“I want more,” you whisper against his mouth, fingers pressed into his cheeks. “Will you give me more?”

He nods. You lick his mouth, sighing contentedly as you roll your hips on his thigh. He moans, feeling the glide of your bare folds against his leg. You are always so ready for him, eager to take him. Easy to please. Excited to take what you want.

Shaking above him, you bury your face in his neck. Yoongi slides his hands from their position above his head, resting one hand on your thigh and sliding the other between your legs. Sticky arousal greets him, his fingers brushing up and down your cunt as you stop grinding, letting him take control.

“Kitty,” you beg, words muffle in his neck. He grins, eyes half-lidded as he plays with you. “Please, Kitty.”

Yoongi sinks two fingers in your greedy hole, feeling the way your walls flutter around him. It doesn’t matter how many times he buries his fingers, cock or tongue in you – every time is divine. Feels like something holy, taking him somewhere else.

“Fuck yourself on my fingers,” he murmurs, pressing a thumb to your clit. “Come on, baby. Wanna see you make a mess on my hands first.”

“Want your cock.”

“Fingers first, baby. Come on, you can do it.”

A growl rips through your frame. Yoongi stills under you for a moment, heart skipping. But then you move your hips and he hears your soft breath. Feels the drip down his hand. He grins, feeling you swallow his fingers as you work yourself on him, his thumb circling your clit lazily.

Nails dig into his thighs as you lean backward, spreading yourself for him. He can barely make out your figure in the darkness, but he can see the swell of your chest, the line of your neck as you toss your head back, his name falling from flushed lips and floating up to the ceiling.

When you come, it’s wet and loud. He hums, pulling drenched fingers from your legs. He surges forward, surprising you and moving you backward, letting your head bounce near the foot of the bed as he cages you in, stealing a kiss.

You wrap your arms and legs around him, clinging and whining and rubbing against his thigh again, begging sweetly. No one has ever wanted Yoongi the way you do. Ever. He cannot recall a single time someone has been as vigorous in their pursuit.

It makes him hard again, the rush in his veins igniting once more as he slides into you. He pushes in to the hilt, settling there for a moment. You clench around him, clawing at the back of his neck and thrashing under him. Begging for more. Always wanting more. Swearing you just need a little more.

Yoongi sets a slow pace, stroking deep with a purpose. You gasp every time he fucks all the way into you. He grins against your sweaty neck, tongue licking a stripe up your salty skin. You turn your face and catch his mouth with yours, swapping more spit than kissing, moaning into one another’s mouths.

An orgasm winds tightly in Yoongi’s stomach. He feels it at the base of his spine this time, a second sense tingling as he picks up speed, slamming into you until you’re crying under him, babbling again in something that sounds like a language but isn’t quite.

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck –“ He grits his teeth and the moment he comes, you squeeze him like a vice, shouting and pulling him into an orgasm so hard that he feels himself fall on top of you, the energy leaving him as quickly as his orgasm had gathered.

At some point, he falls asleep.

Hell on earth is waking up battered and torn at the seams. You’re out in the living room, enjoying an early morning episode of Tokyo Ghoul again. He hears you giggle at the TV and he lifts his head in the shower. The rush of the hot water is loud, but the sound of you laughing is in his head.

It always feels like you’re in his head.

Yoongi stumbles when he gets out of the shower. His feet are heavy and there is pain behind his eyes. The throbbing kind that makes him turn the lights out and shoot a text to work telling them he needs a sick day. How many sick days has he had this year? He has no idea.

Yoongi stumbles to the mattress and collapses into the sheets. Everything feels heavy like he is made of glass bones with the weight of the world threatening to break him.

Sleep comes and goes. It doesn’t make him less tired. Yoongi places a hand on his forehead. He is not over-warm, but he wants to cry, the ache in every muscle so real that it takes him several tries to say your name.

You appear immediately, hovering at the edge of the bed in his hoodie, wrapped in a blanket.

“Are you feeling sick, Kitty?” He nods and you sniff. “I’m so sorry, Kitty… do you want some water?”

Yoongi nods again and you vanish. He rolls onto his back, groaning. He reaches for his phone. The screen is cracked from some incident or another, but it’s mildly legible as he searches his symptoms online.

When you come back with water, he thanks you with a sweet kiss and smiles when you lick his nose affectionately before darting out of the room again. He hears the show start again.

Carefully, Yoongi tries to sit up a bit. The water is cooled with two cubes – just the way he likes it – and it helps staunch the thirst. He drains the entire glass, but still, he aches with exhaustion that has no name.

Every combination he can think of brings Yoongi undesirable results. He has the fatigue of many different illnesses, but not any of the others. Mono seems the most likely, but still, it doesn’t feel right.

Yoongi considers and then types a new search: constant exhaustion after sex.

The results make him roll his eyes. He knows he’s going to get several ads for erectile dysfunction medication, but he scrolls anyways. Maybe he’s just fucking you that hard. But he does remember blacking out after sex and… well he never feels great the next day.

Slowly tapping through pages, Yoongi sighs. There’s nothing that provides much thought beyond Yoongi knowing he’s had too much sex. You’re a starving little thing, constantly wanting –

A word catches his attention: succubus.

Yoongi snorts when he opens the article. It’s a weird string of evangelical stories and musings, and overly sexualized depictions of female demons with generous breasts, shapely figures, and cute little bat wings.

The succubus needs sexual desire and energy to survive. He scoffs and wonders what heterosexual male wrote that dream.

Repeated sexual activity with a succubus will result in a bond being formed between the succubus and the host.

“Romantic,” Yoongi deadpans, scrolling up to close out the article. But a drawing catches Yoongi’s eye - a shadowy figure with rows and rows of teeth and red eyes. “Huh.”

Clicking on it, the page loads to a Reddit thread. Yoongi curses when he has to download the app, but his fingers move of their own volition, tapping across the screen as he creates a login and reopens the thread.

There are streams and streams of comments and links on the thread, a little overwhelming. As expected, it sounds like most heterosexual men overly-sexualizing women or asking about roleplaying – and yet, there’s a thread with a lot of upvotes that he clicks on.

Loss of time. Constantly exhausted. Nightmares of shadow creatures following me. Yoongi licks his lips, feeling his mouth go dry as he continues. Blackouts after sex. Not able to remember life before meeting entity. Dead animals –

“Kitty?” Yoongi flinches, dropping the phone on his stomach, hand covering his chest as his heart pounds in his ribcage. You blink in surprise, cocking your head where you stand in the doorway. A sense of dread draws a slow finger down Yoongi’s spine as he stares at you. “Do you want to come watch with me? We can put on Spirited Away.”

Loss of time. Constantly exhausted. Nightmares of shadow creatures-

“Kitty?” Yoongi has waited too long to reply. He nods his head and clears his throat. He wants to laugh at how ridiculous he’s being, shoving the phone away from him as he slowly peels himself out of bed. You grin and hold out a hand. “Thanks.”

Like a cat, you’re curled on the couch. Yoongi gives you a wide berth as he walks to his office. Night has passed into morning, and the flash of the screen lights the way as he opens the door, slipping through a tiny crack before he closes it softly and firmly behind him.

While watching movies, Yoongi could not help but think about the thread he had seen. He doesn’t turn the light on, too afraid of it showing under the door and tipping you off where he is.

Fear settles in the pit of his stomach. His hands are shaky as he wakes up the mouse, the computer light nearly blinding in the dark room. He jams the settings on the keyboard, turning it down a bit as he settles into the chair, taking a few breaths.

It feels ridiculous. You’re his girlfriend, not a sex-craving demon. But Yoongi finds the thread again anyways, clicking through and going back to that original subthread of people claiming to have survived an encounter with a succubus.

Time doesn’t seem to pass as Yoongi reads. He leans on his hand, eyes burning as he clicks through story after story.

Met at a bar – she was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I never remember going home with her, but my life was suddenly consumed by her. I lost my job and my friends. Felt good at first, but started getting headaches any time I would try to remember something. And she was always around, always lurking around every corner.

Yoongi clicks on to the next one, stomach flipping nervously.

- I ran into a friend and she swore we hadn’t spoken in months. I remember talking to her but it felt like… they were false memories. Like I didn’t really do those things. It was strange, but I forgot again after a while.

Taehyung’s face flashes in Yoongi’s mind. His palms get sweaty as he navigates the mouse, leaning closer toward the screen. A nervous beat starts to drum up in his heart as he pours over the words and the accounts of others.

The evidence is damning, but it can’t be possible, right?

Yoongi thinks of Old Ass Han telling the story of his son being swept up by a she-demon. Yoongi doesn’t think the story is very funny anymore, and the thought of Jimin dressing up as one makes him nauseous.

Carefully, he navigates to another thread.

I was lucky. She didn’t want to kill me, but she was constantly hungry for more energy that I didn’t have. She would get cagey and feral, hissing at me and hiding in the dark, like she was weaker in the sun when she wasn’t fed. I would find packs and packs of meat rotting in the garbage like she was trying to get her fix elsewhere.

I hope that you take this thread seriously. They are real. And while they look and talk like people, they aren’t. They might grow attached to you, but they don’t love you. You are a meal – and if your succubus is only feeding off of sex, it’s only a matter of time before they need more.

Think Jennifer’s Body, people.

Yoongi has never seen that movie before. He clicks away from the thread and pulls up the trailer. It seems a little ridiculous, but he gets the idea. Sex, eat the guy, move on to the next. But you certainly have never tried to eat him.

So Yoongi clicks back to the thread and searches for something new. How to get rid of a succubus.

He leans back while the page loads, switching to a white screen. This bright, the monitor reflects what’s in front of it, Yoongi’s round and tired face, pale from lack of sleep, and a looming shadow behind him. His stomach plummets and he goes rigid in the chair, frozen with fear.

Yoongi smells cedar. Jasmine. Amber.

"Kitty is looking at bad things,” you sniffle. Your shadow grows in the computer monitor and Yoongi swears he sees the white flash of teeth before his world turns red. "I loved you, Kitty."

#yoongi smut #suga smut #min yoongi smut #suga bts #min yoongi fanfic #yoongi x reader #yoongi x demon reader #bts fanfic #bts smut #min yoongi #happy haliween #haliiimede writes #minors dni #minors do not interact #tw manipulation #tw supernatural #tw dead animal

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cherubshert · 7 months

Text

a/n: this is just a work of fiction!! idk how to write arguments loll, i really wanted add some cuss words but i felt awkward

patience... patience... patience... you were quite literally running out of it. you stare down at your phone, still a tiny bit hopeful, he hadn't called or texted to cancel so he must still be coming.

you sigh, you've been waiting for hours, all dolled up, and dressed in an outfit you bought specifically for this night. it was going to be the best of your dates, the best you had in a while, the...

"sorry we are about to close." you stare blankly at the waiter, looking around finally to find the place empty. "oh! I'm sorry, I'm just waiting for someone..." the waiter gives you a pitiful smile, reinforcing the fact that the store would be closing soon.

you stare at your phone, before immediately standing up. "I'm sorry." you murmur as you gather your things, paying for your food, hurrying to your car

your car is cold, so cold it feels so lonely, your grip on your steering wheel tightens. you body shaking as tears slip from your eyes, you felt a bit disappointed, though you were used to it. but damn, you were a little hopeful it would've different this time.

you wipe your tears, starting your car. the ride to his dorm us short, but it still felt long, thoughts jumbled in your mind. you make your way to their door, breathing out the thoughts telling you to just let it go before knocking. niki is the one that answers, the rest of the boys noisily in the background. "y/n? are you ok?"

"heeseung, is he in?" "oh yea, he's in his room." you push past him, sadness, confusion and anger mixing in your veins. and when you stop at the door, you let out a shaky breath.

when the door opens, he's the main piece if the room, lounging in his bed, scrolling on his phone. "do you know what day today is?" he jumps at your voice, turning to you and raising a brow. "what?" "i asked if you knew what today was?" he pauses, staring at you in confusion before the realization hits.

"sorry i forgot." he looks away focusing back to his phone."you forgot? you keep forgetting, cause that's the third time this month." "can we talk about this later, y/n. I'm really tired."

"there's no later, I want to talk about it now." he stands up, waking to a study desk on the side of the room."are you ignoring me? can we please settle this." you reach out to him, turning his to face you. "i don't want to, your being such a cry baby about this, it's not a big deal." "not a big deal? did you here what i said earlier, you made the same empty promise 3 times in one month. that adds up! I've spent our entire relationship waiting on you. I'm tired of waiting !"

he pushes your hand away. "there is nothing stopping you from leaving, what the hell have you done for me?you are being so immature and angry because of a date, or few. especially since those dates I've made up for them." "how? through petty gifts? i am not and was never asking from those. i am just asking for your time your attention. what have I done for you? all the sacrifices I've made for you, nights i spent awake when you were miles away, just to keep you company over the phone, the times i took care of you when you were ill? i should be asking you the same question, what have you done for me? made empty promises, left me hanging for weeks and then only running back when you want something?"

he stays silent, he's face scrunched up in anger. "come on, answer me, tell me what you've done for me? ... tell me how you feel about me, please..." nothing... "wow... thanks for showing me how much i really mean, we're done."

a/n²: don't make fun of me, ik this is kinda cringe loll... again this is just fiction!!!!!

#kpop fanfic #kpop x poc reader #cherubshert diary.#enhypen imagines #kpop x black reader #enhypen fic #enhypen x black reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen angst #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen drabbles #heeseung x reader #lee heesung x reader #heeseung angst #heeseung imagines

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ohbo-ohno · 8 months

Note

Hi, yes, it is I. Someone who already sent in a Gaz ask but is having more thoughts, this time about Price.

Price’s pet, as sweet and docile as she is now, didn’t always used to be this way. She was someone others obeyed, almost cruel in her ways. Always looking down at others, taking advantage of those who weren’t as strong willed as her and using them up for her own gain before leaving them hopeless and ruined. Someone who deserved to be taken down several notches, which is just what Price planned on doing when he first met her. Taking this utter bitch and making her into his bitch. Molding her into someone sweet and obedient, eager to obey his every word, a plaything for him to break down and build up however many times he wants.

you said "price taking this utter bitch and making her into his bitch" and i like lost my mind. i dont think ive ever seen anything written for mean price this is unfamiliar territory for me

he still likes her in power, gets off on seeing her crush the egos of smaller men. but shows her she can't take him down, will never ever be able to even make him flinch. she hurls insults, tries to beat him, nothing works. he's a fucking brick wall, sweetheart, you can't hurt him

and she's so angry. she's spent her entire adult life destroying men who think they're better than her, surely this one isn't any different. but he just fucking is. laughs in her face when she insults his form, grabs her by the hair and forces her to her back to prove her wrong when he makes a comment about how he must be overcompensating for something.

takes so fucking long to break her. every time he tries to be nice she just sees it as condescending (which like... not entirely wrong) and works herself back up again. he fucks her so much she's always walking with a little limp, keeps her a little calmer through literally just orgasms.

ties her up in real strict bondage, makes her crawl behind him. yeah because she's his pet, but really to emphasize how low she is compared to him. can't even fucking stand on the same level as he is.

and ohhhh my god "a plaything for him to break down and build up however many times he wants." he loves that she's so strong willed. just keeps bouncing back. means he gets to break her over and over and over and over again

idk what to do with myself now

if you're into darklina read this

#asks and answers #bo writes #john price x reader #favorites #your gaz ask is in the queue babe but i loved it

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underground-secret · 7 months

Text

The Hunter and The Witch: Dean Winchester x Fem! reader

Description: A small town where dark secrets unfold isn’t anything new to these seasoned hunters, except when it has something to do with urban legends…apparently.

Warnings: cannon violence, mentions/talk of suicide, mentions of gruesome death, eye bleeding, Blood Mary (idk if this would be a warning but like 🤷🏼‍♀️), mentions of murder, witchy stuff

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld , @okayiamkassandra ,@fablesrose

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long to get out again my AP class is really AP-ing and has taken up literally all my time. I spent four days working on a 20 pages packet that took forever meaning I had zero time for this. Again so so sorry.

Word count: 7,719

Bloody Mary

(Masterlist, Previous Chapter, Next Chapter)

“Sam, wake up.” Dean nudges the man in question, the car in park.

Sam wakes, confused, he sits up and looks around. “I take it I was having a nightmare.”

“Yeah, another one.” Dean confirms, and I nod too a frown on my face.

“Hey, at least I got some sleep.” Sam offers

“Sam” I stretch out his name, “that cannot be your positive to this.”

“You know, sooner or later we're gonna have to talk about this.” Dean adds.

But Sam ignores us, avoids the whole conversation, “Are we here?”

Dean lets him avoid the whole ordeal and I have to wonder how long he will let his brother lie. Though I guess I'm no better. “Yup. Welcome to Toledo, Ohio.”

Sam picks up a newspaper that sat on the console of the car, the obituary of Steven Shoemaker circled.

‘The Shoemaker family is sad to announce the sudden death of their beloved husband and father Steven Shoemarker. Steven was 46. A short service will be held on Wednesday, [...] 31 at 2:00 p.m. at the Toledo [...] and cherish you [...] Your [...]’ The article read.

“So what do you think really happened to this guy?” Sam asks us.

“That's what we're gonna find out.” Dean answers, turning off the car. “Let's go.”

We exit the car, entering the large hospital building that stood in front of us walking up to the two desks that lie in the room. One of them is empty with a name tag that reads, ‘Dr. D. Feiklowicz.’ The other one however was occupied by a Morgue technician in blue scrubs, “Hey” the man greets us as we approach.

“Hey.” Dean answers back.

“Can I help you?” The technician asks, looking between the three of us.

“Yeah. We're the, uh...med students.” Dean lies.

“Sorry?” The man asks back.

“Oh, Doctor—“ Dean stammers over the name, “—Figlavitch didn't tell you? We talked to him on the phone. He, uh, we're from Ohio State. He's supposed to show us the Shoemarker corpse. It's for our paper.”

“Well, I'm sorry, he's at lunch.” The tech informs us.

“Oh well he said, uh—“ Dean sighs, “—oh, well, you know, it doesn't matter. You don't mind just showing us the body, do you?”

“Sorry, I can't. Doc will be back in an hour. You can wait for him if you want.” He tells us, gesturing to the seats on the side of the room.

“An hour? Ooh. We gotta be heading back to Columbus by then.” Dean looks at me and Sam as if queuing us to lie with him.

“Yeah.” Sam and I say at the same time, “Jinx” I mumble underneath my breath just loud enough for Sam to hear me who in return gives me a scrunched face.

“Uh, look, man, this paper's like half our grade, so if you don't mind helping us out—“ Dena explains getting cut off by the man in scrubs, “Uh, look, man...no.”

Dean laughs a little. He turns around to face us, mumbling, “I'm gonna hit him in his face I swear.”

But I mean we can’t really blame the guy he’s just doing his job.

Sam hits his brother on the arm, taking a step in front of him he opens his wallet and pulls out some twenties. He lays a few of them, at least five, down on the desk. The Morgue Tech picks up the money, “Follow me.”

The technician gets up and leaves. I go to follow, seeing in the corner of my eye Dean grabbing Sam when he too tries to follow, forcing me to stop and go back a step to see what they are on about.

“Dude, I earned that money.” Dean complains.

“You won it in a poker game.” Sam clarifies.

“Yeah.” Dean answers.

Sam rolls his eyes, pulling away from his brother to follow the technician.

“You’ll make it back” I say, patting Dean on the back shortly to go follow the morgue man.

Dean stays back a half a second before following after us.

“Now the newspaper said his daughter found him. She said his eyes were bleeding.” Sam said as the Morgue Tech pulled back the sheet over Steven’s face. Revealing a pale, long faced man with dark hair, blood stained on his cheeks below his eyes as if he had cried them.

“More than that. They practically liquefied.” The tech scuffs.

“Any sign of a struggle? Maybe somebody did it to him?” Dean asks him.

“Nope. Besides the daughter, he was all alone.” He answers.

“What's the official cause of death?” Sam questioned.

“Ah, Doc's not sure. He's thinking massive stroke, maybe an aneurysm? Something burst up in there, that's for sure.” He replied.

“You mean like cerebral bleeding?” I ask, wanting to clarify.

“Yeah. This guy had more blood in his skull than anyone I've ever seen.” He responded.

“The eyes & mash;what would cause something like that?” Sam asked.

“Capillaries can burst. See a lot of bloodshot eyes with stroke victims.” The technician explains.

“Yeah? You ever see exploding eyeballs?” Dean scuffs.

“That's a first for me, but hey, I'm not the doctor.” The tech shrugs.

“Hey, think we could take a look at that police report? You know for, uh...our paper.” Dean requests.

“I'm not really supposed to show you that.” He answers, stretching out ‘that.’

Sam sighs clearly annoyed, as he pulls out his wallet.

Now leaving the hospital, walking down the stairs Sam suggests, “Might not be one of ours. Might just be some freak medical thing.”

“How many times in Dad's long and varied career has it actually been a freak medical thing and not some sign of an awful supernatural death?” Dean points out.

“Uh, almost never.” Sam answers.

“Exactly.”

“Well then, let's go talk to the daughter.” I announce”

We walk into Steven’s funeral, a picture of him on the desk.

All the men in the room are wearing black suits and the women adorned in black dresses, everyone except us. Dean points this very fact out, “Feel like we're underdressed.” I nod in agreement, my lips in a tight line, the guilt of interrupting these people’s mourning with not only us being undressed but also for not having a reasonable explanation of us being here.

But no one stops us as we keep walking through the house, all the way towards the back and outside to the backyard.

A man points us towards Donna and Lily Shoemarker, the daughters of the man we had seen on a metal table only moments before, who are standing near two people whom I can only assume is a friend or family member.

“You must be Donna, right?” Dean greets the eldest daughter as we approach the group of people.

“Yeah.” She answers sadly brushing her short brunette hair out of her face.

“Hi, uh—we're really sorry.” Sam says.

“Thank you.” She replies, and I know she must have heard that same phrase of ‘i’m sorry’ and must have answered the same ‘thank you’ over and over to each person here. As if the death of her father hadn’t broken what’s inside her enough.

“I'm Sam, this is Dean, and that’s Y/N. We worked with your dad.” He explains.

She looks at one of the adults near her and then back at us, “You did?” And I feel bad for lying to her about this to give her a connection to her father that had never existed.

“Yeah. This whole thing. I mean, a stroke.” Dean goes on.

“I don't think she really wants to talk about this right now” One of the men with her say, stepping in.

“It's okay. I'm okay.” Donna says, with a sharp nod.

“Were there any symptoms? Dizziness? Migraines?” Dean asks, listing out various options.

“No.” She says simply.

Lily, the youngest daughter, turns around, “That's because it wasn't a stroke.”

“Lily, don’t say that.” Donna snaps.

“What?” Sam asks.

“I'm sorry, she's just upset.” Donna explains.

“No, it happened because of me.” Lily speaks up.

“Sweetie, it didn't.” Donna tries to convince.

“Oh Lily”, I say sadly crouching down to be closer to her eye level, “What makes you think that?” I knew what it felt like to blame yourself for someone else’s death, especially your parents, especially when it happens twice and you're too young to understand why this would happen to you. I feel the eyes of the people around me bore into me, especially from the brothers behind me.

“Right before he died, I said it.” Lily answers.

“Said what?” I ask her.

“Bloody Mary, three times in the bathroom mirror.” She explains, pausing, “She took his eyes, that's what she does.” My eyes go wide, not exactly expecting that answer.

“That's not why Dad died. This isn't your fault.” Donna reasons.

“I think your sister's right, Lily. There's no way it could have been Bloody Mary. Your dad didn't say it, did he?” Dean offers, giving the kid some logic to combat what she believes.

“No, I don't think so.” Lily answers. But I know it will take her years to really believe it wasn’t her fault, if ever.

Saying ‘bye’ to the grief rickened family we head back inside the house, but instead of truly leaving we sneak upstairs, approaching the bathroom.

Sam pushes the door open, dried blood stained to the white tiled floor, “The Bloody Mary legend...Dad ever find any evidence that it was a real thing?”

“Not that I know of.” Dean answers, him and I trailing in after Sam who stoops to the floor touching the dried blood, “I mean, everywhere else all over the country, kids will play Bloody Mary, and as far as we know, nobody dies from it.”

I grimace, why would he touch the blood?

“Yeah, well, maybe everywhere it's just a story, but here it's actually happening.” Dean offers.

“The place where the legend began?” Sam asks and we both shrug, Dean opening the medicine cabinet.

“But according to the legend, the person who says B—“ Sam looks at the medicine cabinet mirror, it now facing him, he closes it before continuing, “The person who says you know what gets it. But here—“

“Mr.Shoemaker gets it instead” I finish his sentence.

“Right.”

“Never heard anything like that before. Still, the guy did die right in front of the mirror, and the daughter's right. The way the legend goes, you know who scratches your eyes out.” Dean adds.

“It's worth checking in to.” Sam concludes, as we leave the bathroom.

“What are you doing up here?” A blonde woman stops us, the same woman who was comforting the daughters outside.

“We—we, had to go to the bathroom.” Dean lies, poorly, because it makes perfect sense for three people to be using a private bathroom all at once.

“Who are you?” She asks us, naturally not accepting the poorly down lie.

“Like we said downstairs, we worked with Donna's dad.” Dean confirms.

“He was a day trader or something. He worked by himself.” She counters, and we should really start researching these people before we make up lies of how we know them.

Dean tries to cover, “No, I know, I meant—“

“And all those weird questions downstairs, what was that? So you tell me what's going on, or I start screaming.” She tells us, leaving no more room for any nonsense.

“All right, all right. We think something happened to Donna's dad.” Sam begins.

“Yeah, a stroke.” She answers.

“But it isn’t a typical sign of stroke, it might be something else.” I say softly, ashamed for suggesting such a thing to someone who has no knowledge of our world. These people are going through so much the last thing they need is some random people questioning what they know, I wouldn’t blame her if she did scream.

“Like what?” She scoffs, crossing her arms in front of her.

Sam explains this time probably sensing my unease with all this, “Honestly? We don't know yet. But we don't want it to happen to anyone else. That's the truth.”

Dean tilts his head, “So, if you're gonna scream, go right ahead.” My eyes widened, snapping to look at him, and suddenly that unease I felt vanished, replaced by a burning hot feeling that rushed through my veins and brought a flush to my face. I gulped, trying to push down the feeling a simple sentence that wasn’t even directed towards me made me feel. The cockiness it held as well as the allowance in his voice…it shouldn’t have affected me, and really shouldn’t have created a burning-longing in my gut.

“Who are you, cops?” The woman questions us, but my eyes haven’t left Dean as if he was light and I a moth.

I catch Sam and Dean looking at each other, speaking without words, in my peripheral vision. “Something like that” Dean answers.

It’s then that Dean must have felt my gaze on him, my lips slightly agape as I looked at him through my lashes. His attention turned to me as Sam continued the conversation that I had long blanked out of. Dean looked me over, eyes trailing over my very being, only worsening the burning I had felt within. His eyes met mine again giving me that devilish smirk of his, I swallowed again my eyes falling to his lips.

Sam clears his throat, nudging his brothers hard enough that he knocks into me slightly. Effectively catching our attention.

“Let’s go” He tells us, the woman still in front of us this time her attention to a small piece of white paper that I assume has some sort of contact information on it.

“All right, say Bloody Mary really is haunting this town. There's gonna be some sort of proof—Like a local woman who died nasty.” Dean begins as we walk into the oddly dark library, the stale smell of cleaning products surrounding us.

“Yeah but Blood Mary is a widespread legend with tons of versions of who she actually is, with no clear answer. There’s the mutilated bride, a spirit conjured to tell the future, a witch, and a whole lot more” I answer.

“All right so what are we supposed to be looking for?” Dean asks.

“Well in every version's got a few things in common. It's always a woman named Mary, and she always dies right in front of a mirror. So we've gotta search local newspapers—public records as far back as they go. See if we can find a Mary who fits the bill.” Sam adds, answering.

“Well that sounds annoying” Dean admits.

“No it won't be so bad, as long as we…” Sam trails off looking over to the table lined with computers all that say ‘Out of Order’, he chuckles “I take it back. This will be very annoying.”

We quickly turned around, heading back to the motel we were staying at to do our research there. Dean sat leaning with his head on his hand on the small table in the room on his brother's laptop. The younger brother in question had fallen asleep on one of the beds, the rustling of the sheets giving away the fact he was tossing and turning. I however sat crisscrossed on the other bed Deans to be specific, not like he cared anyways, researching on my laptop trying to find any relevant info on a Mary in this town or deaths relating to mirrors.

“Why'd you let me fall asleep?” Sam suddenly speaks up, voice evident with sleep.

“Cause I'm an awesome brother” Dean scoffs, he’d never admit it was really because Sam hadn’t been able to sleep or at least sleep long for the last couple of weeks.

“And what’s your excuse Y/N?” Sam questions me, leaning on his side with one arm propped up.

“You were sleepy!” I admit simply, smiling at him. He rolls his eyes, huffing a laugh.

“So what did you dream about?” Dean asks him, though what he was really asking was ‘did you have another nightmare?’

“Lollipops and candy canes.” He answers sarcastically. So sassy and for what?

“Yum” I reply, my eyes going back to my laptop.

“Did you find anything?” Sam asks us.

“Oh besides a whole new level of frustration?” Dean huffs, making Sam sit up, “No. We’ve looked at everything. A few local women, a Laura and a Catherine committed suicide in front of a mirror, and a giant mirror fell on a guy named Dave, but uh, no Mary.”

Sam falls back on the bed, the crisp sheets making a ‘whoosh’ noise beneath him, “Maybe we just haven't found it yet.”

“Thing is, there’s also been no strange deaths in the area, no other eyeball bleeding. Nothing. Which you know is good in hindsight but not quite helpful for us.” I explain.

Dean adds on, “Whatever's happening here, maybe it just ain't Mary.”

Almost as if on cue Sam’s phone rings, he answers, still laying down. “Hello?”

Charlie, the blonde woman who questioned us before, sat on the park bench slightly hunched. I sat next to her to offer some comfort, while Dean sat on the back on the bench, his leg nearly brushing my back.

“And they found her on the bathroom floor. And her—her eyes. They were gone.” Charlie nearly sobbed, having explained everything that happened with her friend Jill.

Jill, who had wanted to tease the blonde women about believing in such a legend, saying the name in the mirror and winding up dead. Her death being in the same manner as Mr. Shoemaker.

“I'm sorry.” Sam answered, eyebrows scrunched together.

“And she said it. I heard her say it. But it couldn't be because of that. I'm insane, right?” She whimpered, using the back of her hands to clear the wetness from her cheeks.

“You aren’t insane” I tell her clearly.

“Oh God, that makes me feel so much worse.” She whines and I try to not let it hurt me, because she's griefing, even though it does.

“Look. We think something's happening here. Something that can't be explained” Sam explains. Dean adding, “And we're gonna stop it but we could use your help.”

Dean lifts me up again, this time to reach an elevated first floor window rather than a fence. His hands sliding from tight around my hips, to brushing down my thighs as he lifts me in reach of the window sill. The window wasn’t that high to reach in the first place but with my height, amidtely being shorter than both the boys, it wasn’t exactly comfortable or super easy to reach the window and pull myself up and in.

My hands grasp the cold white window sill, my rings clinking against the surface as I pull my body up. I swiftly slide my hips sideways making my butt land on the sill, in the same sort of movements you would use when you lift yourself out of a pool.

I move my legs inside the carpeted room, ducking slightly as to not hit my head on the open window. The room belonged to Jill, and as my feet hit the soft gray carpet I officially feel the disgust of intrusion creep up on me.

I slide off the windowsill moving into the room more, Sam quickly taking my place near the window to pick up the duffle Dean threw up at him. He catches it, putting it on the bed and immediately digging through it.

“So what did you tell Jill’s mom?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest, the uncomfortability of being in someone’s bedroom let alone a dead girls bedroom crawling up my skin and in my bones.

“Just that I needed some time alone with Jill's pictures and things.” Charlie answers looking between us and the door nervously. Dean climbs through the window shutting the curtain behind and Sam pulls something out of the bag. “I hate lying to her” Charlie adds.

“Trust us, this is for the greater good. Hit the lights” Dean orders.

She goes over to the lights, “”What are you guys looking for?

“We'll let you know as soon as we find it.” Dean hums.

Sam hands him a camcorder on and ready, the object he got from the duffel, “Hey, night vision.” He recalls prompting the older brother to do so, his face scrunched with focus as he finds the button.

“Perfect.” Sam smiles.

The little screen of the camcorder is facing Dean, in a ‘selfie’ like mode, “Do I look like Paris Hilton?” He smiles.

I laugh, slapping a hand to his upper arm on instinct, “Sure you do, baby” I joke, the pet name not something I ever use slipping from my tongue before I could realize. His head turns to give me an amused and smug smirk. In his distractment Sam takes the camera back, going over to the closet door filming around the mirror.

“So I don't get it. I mean...the first victim didn't summon Mary, and the second victim did. How's she choosing them?” Sam asks out loud.

“Beats me.” Dean answers, focusing back on the situation at hand. “I want to know why Jill said it in the first place.”

“It was just a joke.” Charlie reasons.

“Yeah well somebody's gonna say it again, it's just a matter of time.” Dean replies.

Sam wandered into the bathroom now, looking at the mirror there. “Hey!” He calls out, getting us to turn and look at him. “There's a black light in the trunk, right?”

Dean immediately went off to go get it coming back rather swiftly, just as Sam placed the mirror on Jill’s bed laying it upside down after having carried it from the bathroom. With the black light now in hand, he peels off the brown paper that’s on the back of the mirror, shining the purple light on its back revealing a handprint and the name ‘Gary Bryman.’

“Gary Bryman?” Charlie reads out loud both as an acknowledgment and also a question.

“Do you know who that is?” I ask her.

“No.” She answers simply.

Back on the bench, in nearly the same positions, Sam recalls his findings. “So, Gary Bryman was an 8-year-old boy. Two years ago he was killed in a hit and run. The car was described as a black Toyota Camry. But nobody got the plates or saw the driver.”

“Oh my God.” Charlie gasps, horror in her eyes as she covers her mouth.

“What?” I ask the question we’re all thinking.

“Jill drove that car” She answers. Without looking for confirmation I know the boy's eyes are wide too, but there’s no room for the talking that comes after shock.

“We need to get back to your friend Donna’s house.

Somehow, with the help of Charlie, we convinced our way into Donna’s house back up to the bathroom we were in only hours before.

Hunched over the mirror with the black light, our suspicions were correct. There’s a handprint, one I have to say looks like the one in Jill’s bathroom, but I'm no criminologist. This time the name ‘Linda Shoemaker’ is written on it.

We all look at each other, knowing it’s likely that Steven killed his wife hence why Bloody Mary went for him and not the young girl who chanted her name. But the only way to have any idea of this theory is correct is to ask the brunette teenager downstairs.

“Why are you asking me this?” Donna asks us.

“I’m really sorry, Donna, but this is important.” I try to explain, but I know it won’t make sense to her. I mean we are total strangers asking her uncomfortable questions about her dead mother.

“Yeah. Linda's my mom okay? She overdosed on sleeping pills, it was an accident, and that's it.” She fumes, eyebrows scrunched together in fury, “I think you should leave.”

“Now Donna, just listen.” Dean reaches a hand up, as if to motion ‘calm down.’ But it doesn't work. Teary eyed and a little red in the face she yells, “Get out of my house!” Swiftly she runs up the stairs, not giving us another option.

“Oh my God. Do you really think her dad could've killed her mom?” Charlie asks, finally picking up on our theory.

“Maybe.” Sam shrugs.

“I think I should stick around” Charlie announces, referring to staying with Donna, which is probably a good idea.

“All right. Whatever you do, don't—“ Dean tries to warn getting cut off, “Believe me, I won't say it.”

The crisp smell of old books and, oddly, cinnamon fill my nose as I take a deep breath, flexing my hand as I work out the cramping from writing a little too intensely in my small journal.

Dean sits next to me on the cold metal chairs in the library we decided to research in (different to the original one we were at), he’s typing away on the clunky computer the library has. Sam’s staring off at a bulletin board behind us with all sorts of things on it.

“Wait, wait, wait, you're doing a nationwide search?” He asks Dean, alerting us of him coming back to his seat on the other side of his brother.

“Yep. The NCIC, the FBI database—at this point any Mary who died in front of a mirror is good enough for me.” Dean answers.

“But if she's haunting the town, she should have died in the town.” Sam points out.

“I'm telling you there's nothing local, I've checked. So unless you got a better idea—“ Dean explains and as much as I love him I cut him off.

“Well, Mary’s victims have a pattern, which I know you guys already know so I'll just cut to the good part. Both victims had secrets relating to where people died and, here’s the good part, there’s a lot of folklore on mirrors, specifically that mirrors are a reflection of your soul. And with that your secrets and lies are revealed to the mirror.

Fun Fact! It was the Romans who believed that the soul would regenerate every seven years, so if you broke a mirror then you’d have to wait seven years until your soul was cleansed of the bad luck and misfortune.

And while I have more fun facts about mirrors I will end it there.” I smiled, satisfied with my information vomit as well as my fun fact because fun facts are wonderful.

Both boys look at me strangely, a mix of confusion and what I think is amazement (they should be amazed cause that was a really great fun fact). Dean seems to shake it off, “Right. So if you've got a secret, I mean like a really nasty one where someone died, then Mary sees it, and punishes you for it.”

Sam adding, “Whether you're the one that summoned her or not.”

“Correcto!” I answer, and by correct I mean that’s what I was thinking for our working theory.

“Then take a look at this.” Dean announces, clicking a few buttons on the computer before leaning over to the nearby printer, pulling out and handing us the paper. It’s a picture of a woman lying by a mirror in a puddle of blood. He prints out another picture, this time of a handprint and the letters “Tre.”

“Looks like the same handprint.” Sam points out and I nod in agreement.

“Her name was Mary Worthington—an unsolved murder in Fort Wayne, Indiana.”

“I was on the job for 35 years-detective for most of that. Now everybody packs it in with a few loose ends, but the Mary Worthington murder—that one still gets me.” The detective states, unfortunately I immediately forgot his name. It's not the nicest thing to happen but I was also really focused on his country accent that’s just a little too funny.

“What exactly happened?” Dean asked, leaning forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his knees.

“You boys and girl said you were reporters?” Mr. Detective questioned.

“We know Mary was 19, lived by herself. We know she won a few local beauty contests, dreamt of getting out of Indiana, being an actress. And we know the night of March 29th someone broke into her apartment and murdered her, cut out her eyes with a knife.” Sam recalls the gruesome story.

“That's right.” He confirms.

“See sir, when we asked you what happened, we wanted to know what you think happened.” Sam clarifies for him, somewhere between a curious and condescending tone.

Mr. Detective eyes us over as if he’s contemplating something. He spins his wheely chair around swiftly getting up and going to a large file cabinet. “Technically I'm not supposed to have a copy of this” He huffs, pulling out a file and then a picture, the same picture Dean had already found on the computer. “Now see that there? T-R-E?” Detective reads out, even though unbeknownst to him it’s old news to us.

“Yeah” Dean answers.

“I think Mary was trying to spell out the name of her killer.” He theorizes.

“Do you know who it was, or any theories?” I ask, trying to get any sort of new answers.

“Not for sure. But there was a local man, a surgeon-Trevor Sampson.” He pulls out another photo, this time of this Trevor guy, he has an oval face with curly short hair definitely on the darker side but I can’t say exactly what color due to the black and white photo. He’s also wearing some sunglasses.

“And I think he cut her up good.” He finishes, his accent thick.

“Why do you think it’s him?” I question further.

“Her diary mentioned a man that she was seeing. She called him by his initial, ‘T’. Well, her last entry, she was gonna tell ‘T’'s wife about their affair.” He answers, and for a detective that truly means nothing.

“No offense but how does that directly correlate to Sampson… I mean there’s other people with the initial ‘T’ right?” I question him again, hoping it doesn't offend the man.

“It's hard to say, but the way her eyes were cut out...it was almost professional.” He explains.

“But you could never prove it?” Dean asks, chiming in.

“No. No prints, no witnesses. He was meticulous.” Mr. Detective nods.

“Is he still alive?” Dean follows up.

“Nope.” He sighs, sitting down. “If you ask me, Mary spent her last living moments trying to expose this guy's secret. But she never could.”

“Where's she buried?” Sam asks this time.

“She wasn't. She was cremated” He answers. No digging up bodies for us today.

“What about that mirror”, Dean nods towards the one in the photo, “It's not in some evidence lockup somewhere is it?”

“Ah, no. It was returned to Mary's family a long time ago.” He explains, leaning back in his chair.

“You have the names of her family by any chance?”

We drive down the roads, the sun setting behind us. Sam’s call dictates where we go, either to whatever location he gives us or back to the motel.

“Oh really? Ah that's too bad Mr. Worthington. I would have paid a lot for that mirror. Okay, well maybe next time. All right, thanks.” Sam hangs up, pocketing his phone.

“So?” Dean asks.

“So that was Mary's brother. The mirror was in the family for years, until he sold it one week ago to a store called Estate Antiques. A store in Toledo.” Sam stated.

“So wherever the mirror goes, that's where Mary goes?” Dean raises.

“Her spirit's definitely tied up with it somehow.” Sam simply puts it.

“Isn't there an old superstition that says mirrors can capture spirits?” Dean asks.

“Yeah! People would cover up the mirror when someone died so that their spirit/ soul wouldn’t get trapped.” I explain, happy to spew some more of my fun facts.

“So Mary dies in front of a mirror, and it draws in her spirit” Dean works through the facts.

“Yes! But I don’t know how she’s working through various mirrors” I admit.

“I don't know either, but if the mirror is the source, I say we find it and smash it.” Dean proposes.

“Yeah, I don't know, maybe.” Sam gets cut off by his own phone, “ Hello.” A look of concern washes over his face, becoming pale “Charlie?”

The motel room is colder, the rain outside causing that meek fact. Charlie’s sitting on Sam’s bed, her head on her knees, after we picked her up from school all terrified. All the curtains are drawn shut, all the mirrors and reflective surfaces are covered with sheets or turned aquas towards a wall or the floor there will be no bloody mary getting in here.

Sam sits next to Charlie, “Hey, hey it's ok. Hey, you can open up your eyes Charlie. It's okay, all right?” She looks up reluctantly and slowly, “Now listen. You're gonna stay right here on this bed, and you're not gonna look at glass, or anything else that has a reflection, okay? And as long as you do that, she cannot get you.”

“But I can't keep that up forever. I'm gonna die, aren't I?” Her voice wobbled, fresh tears running down her cheeks.

“No. No. Not anytime soon.” Sam comforts, but I don’t think it helps.

Dean sits on the bed too, “All right Charlie. We need to know what happened.”

“We were in the bathroom. Donna said it.” She answers simply, rocking herself slightly.

“That's not what we're talking about. Something happened, didn't it? In your life...a secret...where someone got hurt. Can you tell us about it?” Dean pushes.

She looks around uncomfortably, swallowing she begins, “I had this boyfriend. I loved him. But he kind of scared me too, you know?” She looks over at me for confirmation knowing without any previous conversation about it that I would understand. And she was right. It was as if bad boyfriends were sewed into the fabrics of being a woman, it would be a little strange if you hadn’t had one.

I nod and she continues, “And one night, at his house, we got in this fight. Then I broke up with him, and he got upset, and he said he needed me and he loved me, and he said "Charlie, if you walk out that door right now, I'm gonna kill myself." And you know what I said? I said "Go ahead." And I left. How could I say that? How could I leave him like that? I just...I didn't believe him, you know? I should have.” She cries harder, going back to her previous position.

I move towards her, Sam getting up to allow me to sit close to her. I hug her, holding her close despite her awkward position. “That’s not your fault” I told her simply, and I meant it too. She uncurls herself, quickly wrapping her arms around me and stuffing her face into my neck. I hold her tighter. “You did the right thing, leaving him” I mutter.

Dean huffs, gripping the steering wheel slightly tighter, “You were right back there Y/N, her boyfriend killing himself, that's not really Charlie's fault.”

“You guys should know as well as I do that spirits don't exactly see shades of gray. Charlie had a secret, someone died, that's good enough for Mary.” Sam reasons.

“I guess” Dean sighs.

“You know, I've been thinking. It might not be enough to just smash that mirror.” Sam suggests.

“Oh, what do you mean?” I ask with a tilt of my head.

“Well Mary's hard to pin down, right? I mean she moves around from mirror to mirror so who's to say that she's not just gonna keep hiding in them forever? So maybe we should try to pin her down, you know, summon her to her mirror and then smash it.” Sam explains.

“Well how do you know that's going to work?” Dean questions.

“I don't, not for sure.” Sam shrugs.

“Well who's gonna summon her?” Dean follows up.

“I will. She'll come after me.” Sam states as if it’s the most obvious answer and with no care for himself.

“You know what, that's it.” Dean nearly shouts, pulling the car over quickly and roughly making my body shift nearly knocking into the door.

“This is about Jessica, isn't it? You think that's your dirty little secret that you killed her somehow? Sam, this has got to stop, man. I mean, the nightmares and calling her name out in the middle of the night—it's gonna kill you.” Dean fumes, not quite yelling but also not quite talking.

“Now listen to me—It wasn't your fault. If you wanna blame something, then blame the thing that killed her. Or hell, why don't you take a swing at me? I mean I'm the one that dragged you away from her in the first place.”

“I don't blame you.” Sam answers plainly, almost in defeat

“Well you shouldn't blame yourself, because there's nothing you could've done.” Dean adds.

“I could've warned her.” Sam sighs, and the pain in his voice makes me want to cry.

“Sam…you couldn’t have known that would happen.” I chime in, though it doesn't quite feel like my place.

“And besides, all of this isn't a secret, I mean we know all about it. It's not gonna work with Mary anyway.” Dean exclaims.

“No you don't.” Sam states, no further explanation given.

“I don't what?” Dean asks.

“You don't know all about it. I haven't told you everything.” Sam shrugs.

“What are you talking about?” Dean questions, face full of confusion.

“Well it wouldn't really be a secret if I told you, would it?” He replied sassily.

Dean looks surprised, “No. I don't like it. It's not gonna happen, forget it.”

“Dean, that girl back there is going to die unless we do something about it. And you know what? Who knows how many more people are gonna die after that? Now we're doing this. You've got to let me do this.” But Sam doesn't get any answers, with a roll of his eyes Dean drives off. Conversation over.

Sam is trying to pick the lock on the shop's door, somehow without any word he became the designated lock picker. The dark oak door opens and all around the store are mirrors, mirrors of all shapes and sizes and varieties. Truly the worst place to be in this situation.

“Well...that's just great, '' Dean sighs, pulling out the photo of Mary’s corpse to look at the mirror, the one we’re looking for being a wooden frame. Not very helpful considering our location where there are countless mirrors that look exactly the same. “All right let's start looking.”

I nod in agreement handing both boys their crowbars. I shifted my baseball bat in my hand, there wasn’t a third crowbar and there was no reason for it anyways, a baseball bat is just as good at smashing.

We enter the dark store, flashlights on, splitting up we look for our specific mirror.

“Maybe they've already sold it.” Dean suggests, from some part of the store.

“I don't think so.” Sam says, stopping in his tracks. Dean and I walk over on either side of the taller man, Dean pulls out the picture again comparing the two. It’s our mirror.

“That's it.” Dean sighs, “You sure about this?”

Sam hands over his flashlight and sighs, “Bloody Mary. Bloody Mary.” He looks between the both of us, “Bloody Mary.”

A light shines through the store windows, illuminating the room.

“I'll go check that out. You guys stay here, be careful. Smash anything that moves.” Dean shuffles away.

I grip my bat tighter as a breath that isn’t mine nor Sam’s surrounds us. He turns around quickly but I keep my back towards him, “Nothing?” I ask and he hums in confirmation.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Mary in one of the mirrors, I step forward swinging my bat back and then forward hard. The glass shatters falling to the floor around my feet. Then Sam hits a mirror behind me, before swiftly turning back to her mirror.

“Come on. Come into this one.” He mutters underneath his breath.

He tilts his head watching his regeneration weirdly when suddenly he starts breathing heavily grabbing at his chest.

“Sam!” I shout, grabbing his arm. His eyes begin to bleed, blood trickling down his cheeks. He drops his crowbar, the metal clinking against the floor loudly.

“It's your fault. You killed her. You killed Jessica.” A voice rings out, one that sounds like Sam’s though I know it’s not him speaking. I help him to the floor carefully as he grabs his chest harder.

“You never told her the truth—who you really were. But it's more than that, isn't it?” The voice fumes.

I get up leaving Sam to the floor, “That’s enough of you” I mutter, gripping my baseball bat tight. I hit her mirror, the glass shatters around me.

I hear Sam take a deep breath in, when I look down at him he’s no longer holding his chest. He holds a thumb up to me, weakly.

But for some reason the voice didn’t stop, Mary was no longer hurting Sam but her accusations wouldn’t stop.

“Those nightmares you've been having of Jessica dying, screaming, burning—You had them for days before she died. Didn't you!?! You were so desperate to ignore them, to believe they were just dreams. How could you ignore them like that? How could you leave her alone to die!?! You dreamt it would happen!!!”

I smash three more mirrors, anything to get it to stop by it doesn't.

“SAM, SAMMY!” Dean shouts, rushing into the room and crouching down to his brother.

“It's Sam” He answers meekly.

Dean holds onto his brother's face gently, eyeing his face and the blood on it, “God, are you okay?”

“Uh, yeah.” Sam replies, a little unsure though considering the circumstances I get it.

“Come on, come on.” He pulls Sam up, bringing his arm around his neck with a nod of his head towards the door. I follow the boys towards the exit.

A sudden crunching noise forces us to turn around. Mary crawls out of the frame of her mirror, her long black hair covering her face, she walks over the broken glass with no care, her head tilting to the side as she crawls towards us. Her dark nearly black eyes bore into us, somehow she forces us to the floor.

My chest feels tight as if someone was squeezing my heart, I try to crawl backwards on my hands like a crab walk when a sharp pain surges through my hand followed by my eyes. I bring my hand in front of me, a large slash runs through my palm, a piece of glass sticking out of it. The ache in my eyes I know is not caused by glass but by Mary, I reach my gold hand up to my cheek blood trickling down my face. I suck in a breath, the pain not helping the already pain I was feeling. I look over to the boys on the left of me nearly on top of each other as blood runs down both their cheeks.

Mary stands approaching us with a head tilt and a limp. I grumble holding up a shaky hand, waving my hand once, slowly, making long mirrors form in a line in front of Mary acting as a wall between us.

“You killed them! All those people! You killed them!” A female voice cried out, Mary’s voice.

She looks at her reflections scared, when she begins to choke. She grabs on to her throat and her chest, crumbling down to the ground she shrieks, turning to a puddle of blood

With another wave of my hand the wall of mirrors shatters, glass falling to the floor loudly.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Yeah?” I hum feeling a little defeated.

“This has got to be like...what? 600 years of bad luck?” He asks me and I can’t help the big smile that falls on my face.

“Mmm I can’t wait” I laugh, the sarcastic comment coming to me with ease.

The sun rises in front of us, gleaming on the Impala. Our faves are cleaned up, ridden of blood and the event that unfolded. The only proof of it happening being my hand that’s carefully wrapped in white gauze, the glass now out and the cut cleaned.

Charlie sits next to me in the back seat as we pull up to her house, it's odd having someone else back here with me.

“So this is really over?” She asks us, her eyes puffy from her night of crying.

Dean looks at her through the rearview mirror, nodding, “Yeah, it's over.”

“Thank you.” She says, Dean reaching back to shake her hand. She turns to me next, arms open in a hug. I close the gap between us and give her a good squeeze.

She smiles a little sadly at me, getting out of the car.

“Charlie?” Sam calls out, stopping the woman in her tracks. She turns around, “Your boyfriend's death...you really should try to forgive yourself. No matter what you did, you probably couldn't have stopped it. Sometimes bad things just happen.”

She smiles faintly, turning back around to go into her house.

Dean hits his brother's arm gently, “That's good advice.”

We drive off the car falling silent for a beat before Dean talks again, “Hey Sam?”

“Yeah?” He answers.

“Now that this is all over, I want you to tell me what that secret is.” Dean tells him, looking between him and the road.

“Look...you're my brother and I'd die for you, but there are some things I need to keep to myself.” He admits with a sigh, looking out the window.

The car falls silent again.

Healing isn’t easy. It's not something you can put a bandaid on and expect to be fine, and maybe all that Sam shared will be enough for now but that’s not something we can gauge.

That is times doing, and time isn’t something we can control.

God knows i’ve tried.

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #fanfiction #sam winchester #supernatural #john winchester #slow burn #witch #witch reader #witch craft #sunshine x grumpy #romance #fantasy #bloody mary #urban legends #mystery #mirror #fun facts #the hunter and the witch

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ghulehthezombiequeen · 3 months

Text

little sunshine. - i wanna dance with somebody (who loves me)

cardinal copia x sister of sin! reader part 6.

masterlist. / little sunshine masterlist.

taglist: @gothicwonderlust, @jaymechaos, @siouxbauhaus, @millerthats

a/n: dude... idk why this took me so long to write but i really really hope you enjoy it! this is the longest chapter i've ever written (i think) as well! also we're not gonna talk about the theme being winter when valentine's day is literally next week,,,,,, i swear i started this in january ok

warnings/things to note: female reader, pet names, autistic Copia (perhaps), established relationship, this is basically the 'prom' episode of the series ykwim

enjoy <3

word count: 3,012 words.

The weeks preparing had flown by, the decorations slowly but surely popping up around the halls of the Ministry. You were walking to pick up your dress from the dry cleaner’s. It wasn’t new (you’d found it hanging in your closet left by the previous Sister who’d moved away), but it fit you perfectly, as if the previous owner had left it for you on purpose. The dress itself was drop-dead gorgeous— a wine red with some black lace trim on the Halter-strap bodice, and the Grucifix logo embroidered on the left side of the hip, the skirt flowing downwards in a trumpet style.

As you carried it to your room, your friend Sister Lucie was walking along with you, chatting about some sort of ghoul drama.

“Allegedly he tried to bury them in the garden, but one of them escaped the hole and lit half of the plants on fire!” She tittered, holding her royal blue dress delicately.

You couldn’t help but giggle as well. “That seems so silly. Do you know whose ghoul that was?” “Oh, uh… I think it was your boyfriend’s.”

That made you stop in your tracks, your heart dropping to your stomach. “Boyfriend? What are you talking about?” Lucie stopped as well. “Well, yeah… you and that Cardinal dude, the one with the rats? You guys fucked, didn’t you?”

You coughed, your face heating up. “Just because I spent the night in his room doesn’t mean we fucked!” Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “Oh… sorry. But you guys are an item though, right? Sister Audrey caught y’all making out in the kitchen a few weeks ago.”

You rolled your eyes in annoyance, “It’s fine. And yes, we did. But we’re not… official yet, I don’t think. I mean, I’d like to be, but he’s, y’know, pretty shy about all this, so..” She nodded in understanding. “I get it. But really?? Copia, of all the Cardinals?? I don’t mean to be rude, but girl— you can do better than him!” You shook your head and smiled. “I know, but I really like him!”

Finally, you reach your room, where Sister Leah was already starting to get ready, her hair in silk curlers which she’d left in overnight. “Who’s your date, hm?” You teased as you hung up your dress, sitting on your side at the shared vanity space.

“I’m going by myself, you know me. I like being single, thank you very much.” Leah replied, rolling her eyes as she slid into her dress— a black-and-gold fitted dress, with off the shoulder sleeves.

You checked her out and smiled. “You’re gorgeous, girlie! What are you going to do with your hair though?” She took out her curlers and lightly combed her raven-colored hair, matching perfectly with her tan skin. “No idea. Maybe just this or have Melissa braid it for me when I’m there so it won’t get in the way when I dance. Oh, I forgot to ask! You’re coming down with us, right?”

“No, no this time.” You shook your head and smiled. “I’m going with Copia!”

Her eyes widened in disbelief. “Seriously?! You were for real about that?! Is he, like, holding you at gunpoint or something?! Did his rats bite you and you’re contracting rabies?!” You laughed. “No! I just… I like him a lot. He’s actually really sweet and considerate. He’s very old-fashioned, you know? Not because he’s old, but— you know what I mean, right?”

She made a face, sitting next to you as she started to apply her makeup. “Whatever you say.”

Around 7pm, you were ready to go. Leah and a few of your friends were making TikTok’s about their outfits and hairstyles. You wore dark red-to-black eyeshadow, fiercely sharp cat-eye black eyeliner, and of course, deep red lipstick to match your dress. You’d also put your hair half up half down, lightly curled and adorned with golden rose charms. Your friends were all gorgeous, but your beauty was unmatched.

“Ugh, all my friends are hot!!” Sister Calista whined as she looked at the photos on her phone.

You and Copia had been texting back and forth as well, sending snippets of each other’s outfits. The one that made you audibly snort was when he tried taking a mirror selfie, but he was holding Biscotti in one hand and on the verge of dropping him as Biscotti seemed more interested in chewing the phone case than posing for the photo.

You made it your lock screen because it was just so adorable.

Five or so minutes later, you heard a knock on the door, causing everyone’s heads to turn. You stood up in your black platform Mary Janes, making you maybe two or three inches taller than usual, and opened the door to see a nervous Copia standing in front of you with a bouquet of roses. His suit was similar to his Cardinal’s robes, probably a standard uniform for formal events, you figured. Only this time he was wearing a tie with the Grucifix logo printed on it as a design.

Upon seeing your beauty, of course his face would immediately flush almost as red as your dress. “Eh…. You look… Wow. I-I mean—! Ugh, why is this so difficult…” he mumbled, turning his head and holding out the bouquet for you. “These- these are- they’re for you. You like roses, yes? Please say yes…”

You were so touched by the romantic gesture, taking them delicately and cooing. “You’re so sweet, thank you! Give me one minute, I’ll put these by my bed.”

“Oh, okay. Good. Yeah, go— go do that. Mhm.” He nodded awkwardly, giving you a lopsided smile as you closed the door briefly, showing off the flowers to your girlfriends, who also collectively ‘aww’ed.

“I’ll see you guys there!” You called as you opened the door again, stepping out and holding your black clutch bag. “Aww, you got all dressed up for me.” You purred, smirking mischievously as he stood staring at you like a dumb fool.

“Eh? Oh! Y-Yes, hello!” He cleared his throat and fixed his tie before offering his arm out. “I-I can take your bag? Or you can keep it, that’s- that’s fine too.”

You handed your clutch to him with a small titter, lacing your arm into his as well. “I-I’m so glad we can do this… you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, amore mio…” he mumbled timidly.

“And you are the most handsome, sweetheart.” You smiled and he flushed even redder, this man was pathetic. But you loved him either way.

The formal was being held in the main chapel of the Ministry, all the pews cleared off to the sides and replaced with round tables and chairs. There was an opening in the middle, presumably the dance floor. To the left, a photobooth where a group of Siblings were bombarding the poor photographer. To the right was the dessert and beverage bar, ranging in many different cuisines to fit everyone’s dieting habits. Everything was decorated with icicles and snowflakes, little ice skates placed intricately around the room and miniature light-up snow globes as centerpieces. Copia let out a low whistle as he checked out the area. “Wow… very fancy-shmancy, ain’t it?”

You nodded with a soft chuckle. “Yeah, they really went all out this year. Wonder why?”

He shrugged. “Did you, um… want to take a photo when it’s not busy? O-Or we don’t have to! I… I don’t know. I just wanted a nice photo of you for my wallet. N-Not in the stalker way, though! Like, eh… W-We’re together now, right? S-So– I-I mean!–”

He buried his face in his hands again, and you pried them away gently with a soft smile playing at your lips. “You’re so silly. Never change, Copia. Never change.”

He gulped and nodded, unable to look you in the eye as his cheeks continued to burn red. “You’re too good to me. I-I don’t deserve you… I’m so pathetic.”

“Hey, hey.” You took the sides of his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. “Don’t talk like that. You are just as deserving of love as anyone else in this room, okay? Now, we’re here to have fun and celebrate the new year, yeah?”

He nodded, an apologetic smile on his face, leaning to yours and lightly pecking your nose. “Thank you, amore.”

You hummed in contentment, releasing his face but not before you returned the gesture, your lipstick transferring onto his nose but neither of you noticed. As you sat at your assigned table together, chatting about some of your interests (he was heavily invested in some retro game called ‘Driving Miss Daisy,’ which you’d never heard of before), a ghoul approached you both and got you two as it was your turn for the photo booth.

“Ahm.. good. Good-good, let’s go, yes?” he smiled crookedly, offering his arm yet again.

You walked arm in arm and stood in front of a periwinkle backdrop decorated with sparkly blue and white streamers, along with snowflake cutouts and a few blue and silver balloons. The ghoul told you both that you could take up to four photos, and pointed to the table nearby where there were cutout props and cheap boas in different colors. You took a white one and wrapped it around Copia’s neck, drawing him in closer until your bodies were flushed together. You smiled and looked at the camera, where the ghoul was ready to take the first photo. Copia on the other hand was mumbling a multitude of unintelligible words in Itanglese as the ghoul snapped the photo, the flash stinging your eyes a bit. “Aw, c’mon, baby! Smile!” you giggled and tossed the boa back to the table, now switching your pose to the classic prom pose, only your arms were around his waist, his back pressed against your chest as you hugged him closer.

“Eh… Amore, this– this is the wrong way,” he mumbled. “I’m supposed to be holding the girl, n-not– um..”

“But you’re the babygirl in this relationship,” you teased as you propped your chin on his shoulder, your cheeks grazing each other’s. He squeaked and whimpered a weak reply, his voice unable to be comprehensible.

The ghoul took another photo, cooing softly at the sight of you two being so affectionate.

You took two more photos, one of him with your lips hovering over your cheek and you copying him in the other. However, you actually kissed his cheek, and this time you did notice that your dark lipstick had left an imprint on his pale complexion. You chuckled but didn’t say anything, taking his hand and waiting for the ghoul to put the photos in a collage and print out two copies.

Copia kept glancing around nervously, as if he was ashamed to be seen with you in fear of others thinking you took him to this event out of pity.

You lightly squeezed his hand, causing his head to snap back at you. He gulped as he saw your warning expression, causing him to nod and take a deep breath.

The ghoul chirped to get both of your attention, holding out the photo strips for you to take. You thanked the ghoul and gave him a few appreciative scritches to his chin, causing him to trill and clap his hands in joy.

You handed him his copy as he led you back to the table, noticing a few Siblings giving him playful smiles as he still hadn’t noticed the kiss mark you left on him. However, he turned to you as you both sat down, looking at you timidly. “Do I… have something on my face?”

“Oh, only a little gift I left you from earlier,” you hummed and opened your clutch, handing him your compact mirror so he could see. His eyes widened as he saw the outline of your lips on his left cheek.

“S-Sorella! Amore mio, perché non me l'hai detto prima? I-I-I look like un idiota!” he sputtered out quickly, taking his glove off and rapidly swiping at it to get it off. His face was almost as scarlet as your dress from how embarrassed he was.

You couldn’t help but laugh, taking out a makeup remover wipe and helping him.

“Ugh, you torture an old man,” he groaned.

“Oh, honey, it’s not that bad.”

“It is! Now I look even more pathetic…”

You were about to say something sarcastic in return, but more Siblings and their dates had arrived at your table and kept grabbing your attention. However you kept your hand securely fitted with Copia’s under the table, trying your best to include him in the conversation but it seemed like the Siblings were too scared to confront him due to his rank.

As more people filed in, Copia’s hand gripped your own hand tighter. He was anxious, he had never been good with big crowds of people that he knew. Sure, he could sing nonstop for two hours for thousands of people, but these were people he saw on a day-to-day basis.

You held up his hand and pressed a kiss to the back, running your thumb on the side soothingly in hopes to calm him down, which evidently worked; he took in a deep breath and smiled weakly.

“I-I’ll go get some drinks. Did you want anything, water, soda?” he offered, he was so polite.

You opted for water, smiling and watching him as he wandered to the beverage bar. The Siblings sitting at the table with you took this opportunity to talk to you alone.

“Girl, why?” Brother Nathan asked.

“What do you mean ‘why?’”

“Because he’s– eugh!” Brother Theo made a sour face, holding onto Nathan’s hand tightly. “He’s a Cardinal, much higher ranking than you! Is he your sugar daddy or something? Because honey, we can call someone to raise your paycheck at the library–”

“Stop, ew! He’s not doing anything like that!” You scoffed. “I actually really enjoy his company. He’s just shy, if you would just give him a chance to warm up to you, and maybe even warm up to him in return, you'll know he’s very sweet and considerate!”

“Right… and this is the guy that has like… fifteen rats?” Sibling Everest grimaced.

“Oh, stop it, E.” Sister Nicole huffed. “Don’t say that like we don’t have a pet snake in our room.”

“But it’s only one of Nugget! There’s multiple rats!” They defended themself.

“Guys, maybe we should chill. I don’t think he’d appreciate us talking smack about him behind his back like this. We’re supposed to be having fun, remember?” Theo spoke up before the argument got heated.

Everest sighed. “Whatever.”

Copia returned not a minute later, holding five drinks in both hands. “Eh… I got you all some, uh.. Some water. Here,” he passed them along the table, now noticing some tension in the air from the previous conversation.

“Ah… it’s about my rats, isn’t it?” he chuckled sheepishly. “They are perfectly healthy, no- no bad germs, I can assure. And they mostly stay in my room, don’t worry.”

You chuckled as he attempted to socialize, holding his hand gently in reassurance. The rest of the Siblings nodded and tried to be more friendly, though every time they spoke to him, they gave you all skeptical looks.

After everyone had filled their stomachs with food and drinks, Sister Imperator made a few announcements congratulating the upper ranks on a very successful turnout of new Siblings and churchgoers, along with a few achievements from the newly summoned ghouls. She made it pretty short as Papa Nihil needed some medical attention and was wheeled out of the room on oxygen, clutching his saxophone and grumbled in a rusty voice, “I can still play, Seestor! Let me play just once!”

Soon after, I Wanna Dance With Somebody by Whitney Houston started playing, courtesy of the ghoul manning the DJ booth. Siblings just sat awkwardly, unsure if they could dance on the floor or not. You took this opportunity to grab Copia’s hands and yank him out of the chair, pulling him to the dance floor. “C’mon, baby! Let’s go make this official!”

“A-A-Amore, I cannot dance!” he whimpered shakily as you took him to the middle of the dance floor, suddenly twirling him around and making him do the same to you, causing you to giggle. “Yes, you can dance! I’ve seen you on stage before!” “Well, y-yes, but not like this!!” he gasped as you dipped him, pecking him on the lips once more, the watchful eyes of the Siblings widening and a few gasping in shock and amusement. Not a moment later, more Siblings were slowly crawling to the dance floor, singing along and dancing with their friends or partners.

“I-I don’t know the dance to this song, amore!” Copia mumbled, letting you take the lead as you sang the lyrics to him, laughing. “There’s not supposed to be a certain dance, hon! Just feel the music!”

As the song continued, Copia began to feel more confident, finally twirling you around a few times and dipping you in return. “Is it like this, eh… baby?”

“Mhm,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck as he brought you upright again. You both took a breather to gaze into one another’s eyes, a faint blush on both of your faces. Copia gulped before impulsively leaning in and pressing his lips to yours, holding the kiss for several seconds. You could feel his hands starting to coil around your waist as you both ignored the collective oohing from your peers, and just as he pulled away you followed him, kissing back. This wasn’t a kiss of lust, nor of desire. This felt natural, as if you two were meant to be together, in each other’s arms. It felt like true love.

As you finally pulled away with a chuckle, you could swear you could hear Copia singing under his breath, “I wanna dance with somebody, with somebody who loves me…”

~~~

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