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loveanton · 13 hours

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off my face | lee anton

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: your best friend has been in love with you for years but you’ve been too blind to notice.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: best friend!anton x f!reader

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: angst, fluff, suggestive

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 4.5k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: underage drinking, partying, drunk kisses, makeouts, pls let me know if i missed anything

⏤ 𝑎/n: finally finished my finals so this is a lil self indulgent piece hehe

“I’m officially done with my exams!”

Anton smiles at you through his phone as he watches you vigorously shake your device out of excitement. You’re practically glowing, a mixture of relief and joy lighting up your features. Anton’s heart swells with pride. He’s always known how dedicated and hardworking you are, but seeing you like this makes him realize just how far you’ve come. You’d conquered another milestone, and he can't help but feel immensely proud of you.

He remembers all the late-night study sessions, the moments of doubt you’d shared, and the unwavering determination in your eyes. You’re amazing. He admires your strength, your perseverance, and the way you made everything seem possible. Anton has always been your biggest cheerleader, silently supporting you from the sidelines, even though he wishes he could do more. But right now, he’s just happy to see you so happy.

"Congratulations," Anton finally says, his voice warm and full of genuine pride.

"Thank you!" you beam, your eyes sparkling with gratitude. “Not gonna lie, I wrote complete bs for half the exam, after answering what I knew and adding up the points I gave up when I realized I had enough to pass the class.”

Anton snorts at your confession, “let’s pray your math wasn’t off then.”

You hum, “lets pray I actually got those questions right otherwise I’m screwed.”

The two of you laugh at your words before a beat of silence falls over the two of you. Anton hesitates for a moment, then decides to go for it. "So, what would you like me to buy you as a gift for finishing off your junior year?" he asks, his tone playful but sincere. He wants to celebrate this achievement with you, to make this moment even more special.

Your eyes widen in surprise, a smile spreading across your face. "Really? You don't have to—"

"I want to," Anton interrupts, a mischievous grin forming. "Come on, name your reward."

You laugh, thinking for a moment before answering. "Well, if you're sure... How about that new book series I've been eyeing?"

"Consider it done," Anton says, already mentally noting to order it as soon as possible. He wants to see that smile on your face in person, wants to be the reason for your happiness, even if just a little bit.

Just then, the door to Anton’s room opens, and Eunseok pokes his head in. He notices Anton on the phone and grins, stepping fully into the room. "Hey, who's that?" he asks, leaning closer to the screen.

You giggle and wave. "Hi, Eunseok! Guess what? I’m officially done with my exams!"

"Hey! That’s awesome! Congrats!" Eunseok says, his enthusiasm infectious. "So, Anton’s getting you something nice, right?"

"Yeah, he’s getting me a book series I wanted," you say, your excitement evident.

Eunseok smiles, "Want me to buy you something too?"

Your eyes sparkle with mischief. "Wait, really?”

He nods his head once and hums, “Yeah. Anything else you have your heart set on?”

“Want to take me out for some kbbq?"

Eunseok laughs, nodding. "Sure, Korean BBQ it is. I’ll text you to pick a date."

Anton forces a smile, trying to hide his disappointment. "Great, that sounds like a lot of fun."

You beam, clearly thrilled. "Awesome! Thanks, Eunseok. And thanks again, Anton, for the book series."

"Of course," Anton says, his voice softer now. "I’m really proud of you."

After a few more exchanges, Eunseok and Anton say their goodbyes, and you hang up. The moment the call ends, Anton feels a heavy weight settle in his chest. He can't shake off the sadness that you so eagerly accepted Eunseok's offer and that you would be going out to eat with him. It felt a bit too intimate, and jealousy gnaws at him.

Anton sulks around the dorm, trying to distract himself but failing miserably. Later on, once everyone has eaten and gotten ready for bed, Anton sits in the common area still pouting and eating an apple after skipping out on dinner because Eunseok was in charge of cooking tonight. Wonbin notices his friend's gloomy demeanor and approaches him with concern.

"Hey, what's got you all pouty?" Wonbin asks, nudging Anton gently.

Anton sighs, running a hand through his hair. "It's nothing. Just... feeling a bit off, I guess."

Wonbin raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Come on, what is it? I know something's bothering you."

Anton hesitates, then finally gives in. "It's just... ____’s done with her exams and I offered to buy her a gift, she was really happy about it. But then Eunseok came in and offered to buy her something too and she accepted without a second thought. It just... I don’t know, it feels different."

Wonbin nods, understanding dawning on his face. "Ah, I see. You're feeling jealous."

"Yeah," Anton admits quietly. "I know it's stupid, but I can't help it. I’ve been in love with her for years, and she doesn’t even see me that way. And now she’s going out with Eunseok... it just hurts."

Wonbin claps a reassuring hand on Anton's shoulder. "Hey, it’s not stupid. Feelings are complicated. But maybe it's time to tell her how you really feel. Who knows, she might feel the same way."

Anton looks at Wonbin, a mixture of hope and fear in his eyes. "Maybe. I just don’t want to ruin what we have."

"Sometimes you have to take a risk to get what you really want," Wonbin says softly. "And you deserve to be happy too, Anton."

Anton nods, taking a deep breath. "Thanks, Wonbin. I’ll think about it."

As he walks back to his shared room, Anton's mind races with thoughts of you, the possibilities, and the courage he would need to finally confess his feelings. But for now, he just hopes you’re happy, even if it isn’t with him.

The next day, you head over to Anton’s dorm, excited to pick up the gift and hang out with your best friend. The sun is shining brightly, and there’s a lightness in your step as you approach the familiar building. When you knock on his door, it opens almost immediately, and Anton greets you with a warm smile.

"Hey! Come in," he says, stepping aside to let you enter.

"Thanks," you reply, stepping into the cozy space. The dorm has always felt like a second home to you, a place filled with fond memories and shared moments.

Anton walks the two of you to his room before going over to his desk and picks up a carefully wrapped package. "Here it is," he says, handing it to you with a shy grin.

You take the package, your eyes widening in surprise. "Wow, you wrapped it and everything! How did you get it so fast?"

Anton chuckles. "The perks of Amazon Prime," he replies, looking pleased with your reaction.

You laugh and start to unwrap the gift, revealing the book series you’ve been wanting. Your heart swells with gratitude, and you look up at Anton with a beaming smile. "Thank you so much, Anton! This is perfect."

"I’m glad you like it," he says softly, watching as you flip through the pages of the first book.

Just then, your phone buzzes with a text from your roommate. You glance at the screen and read the message. “Ouu, Mina just texted me about a party."

You look up at Anton, excitement and a hint of mischief in your eyes. "Do you wanna come with me? It’ll be a great way to celebrate."

Anton hesitates, his brow furrowing slightly. "A party? I don’t know... that’s not really my scene."

"Please, Anton," you say, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes. "It would mean a lot to me if you came. We can have fun together, and it’s a good chance to let loose before I leave for the summer."

He sighs, but the look in your eyes makes it impossible for him to say no. "Alright, I’ll go," he agrees, a small smile tugging at his lips.

"Yay! Thank you!" you exclaim, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. "You’re the best, Anton."

He hugs you back, savoring the moment before you pull away. "I’ll see you later then. I need to get ready," you say, heading for the door.

"See you later," Anton replies, watching you leave with a fond look in his eyes.

After you’ve gone, Anton turns to find his roommates. He finds all six of them in the common area, discussing their plans for the evening. "Hey, guys. We’re going to a party tonight," Anton announces.

"A party? Are you sure you want to go?" Sungchan asks.

Soohee nods, “yeah, I never pegged you as the party going type.

Anton sends a sharp glare their way. “____ invited me, I’m sure it’ll be fun.”

"I’m sure it will," Wonbin adds, glancing at Anton. He remembers the conversation they had last night and grins. "So, is this the night you finally tell her how you feel?"

Anton’s cheeks flush slightly. "Ahhh, hyung!"

Eunseok raises an eyebrow. "Wait, tell who what?"

Wonbin nudges the younger male. "Anton’s in love with ____. Has been for years."

All the boy's eyes widen in surprise, as they stare at their youngest in shock. Shotaro is the first to react, he breaks into a wide grin. "Really? That’s awesome! We need to make sure you confess tonight."

Anton groans. "No. Guys, please. I don’t want to make it a big deal."

His words go right over everyone's heads as they start coming up with a masterplan to help out their brother.

"Don’t worry, Anton," Wonbin says with a mischievous glint in his eye. "We’ve got your back. Tonight’s the night."

Anton sighs, knowing there’s no stopping them. As the evening approaches, the dorm buzzes with excitement. The guys are all determined to help Anton confess his feelings to you by the end of the party, and Anton can only hope that everything goes well.

___

Back in your dorm, you and Mina are getting ready for the party. The room is filled with the upbeat music Mina insists on playing whenever you two are preparing for a night out. You’re both rifling through your closets, trying on different outfits, and swapping opinions on what looks best.

“This party is going to be amazing,” Mina says, holding up a sparkly top against herself and checking the mirror. “Are you sure Anton’s coming?”

“Of course,” you reply, slipping into the black dress you finally settled on. “I convinced him. He’s not really into parties, but he agreed to come.”

Mina grins and raises an eyebrow. “You know, that’s probably because he has a thing for you. So, when are you going to confess your feelings?”

You roll your eyes, waving off her comment. “We’re just friends, Mina. He doesn’t see me like that.”

Mina gives you a skeptical look. “Are you sure about that? You two are pretty close, and I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“Seriously, it’s not like that,” you insist, feeling a twinge of discomfort. You don’t want to get your hopes up or think about the possibility of Anton seeing you as more than a friend. “Let’s drop it, okay?”

Mina shrugs, sensing the finality in your tone. “Alright, alright. But if you change your mind, tonight could be the perfect time.”

You finish getting ready in silence, both focused on your makeup and hair. Once you’re satisfied with your looks, you grab your bags and head out the door, excitement bubbling within you for the night ahead.

The party is already in full swing by the time you and Mina arrive. The house is packed with people, music blaring, and laughter echoing through the rooms. You’re greeted by a wave of familiar faces, everyone eager to chat and offer you drinks.

Anton stands off to the side, trying to blend into the background while watching you interact with ease. He sees guys coming up to you, talking and laughing, some even offering you drinks. A pang of jealousy hits him, but he tries to push it aside.

Sungchan, noticing Anton’s brooding expression, decides to take action. He grabs two drinks and walks over to Anton, shoving them into his hands. “Here, take these. Go talk to her. Stop sulking.”

Anton hesitates but knows Sungchan is right. He takes a deep breath and walks over to you, hoping to get a moment alone.

You notice Anton approaching and smile brightly. “Hey! I’m so glad you made it.”

“Hey,” he replies, handing you one of the drinks. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

The two of you find a quieter corner and start chatting about your summer plans. You excitedly tell him about your upcoming girls’ trip to Tulum, and he shares his plans to go on tour with the boys before heading back to New Jersey to spend time with his family.

“I’m so excited for you,” you say, genuinely happy for him. “Touring sounds incredible.”

“Thanks,” Anton says, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “And Tulum sounds amazing. You’re going to have so much fun.”

Just as you’re about to dive into another topic, Soohee appears out of nowhere, grabbing both of your arms. “Hey, you two! Come on, we’re starting a drinking game in the basement. You have to join us!”

You laugh, allowing Soohee to drag you towards the basement. “Alright, alright, we’re coming!”

Anton follows, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.

The basement is filled with a mix of excitement and apprehension as everyone gathers around in a circle for the game. The room is dimly lit, creating an intimate atmosphere perfect for a game of Dare or Drink. Soohee stands in the center, holding an empty bottle, and addresses the group with a mischievous grin.

"Alright, losers," Soohee announces loudly, "we're playing Dare or Drink. It's pretty self-explanatory, but here are the rules: we spin the bottle, and if it lands on you, you either do the dare or take a drink. Got it?"

Everyone nods, a mix of nervous laughter and anticipation rippling through the group. Seunghan is the first to spin the bottle, and it lands on Chaemin. The room holds its breath as he smirks.

"Alright, Chaemin," Seunghan says, leaning forward, "I dare you to kiss the person next to you."

Chaemin's eyes widen, her cheeks turning pink as she looks to her side and sees Shotaro. She bites her lip, hesitating. Shotaro's face is already turning red, a nervous smile on his lips. Chaemin quickly decides and grabs her drink, taking a big gulp instead of completing the dare.

You giggle, noticing Shotaro's embarrassment, and pat his shoulder comfortingly. "Don't worry, Shotaro. Maybe next time," you say with a playful wink.

Chaemin, still blushing, spins the bottle next. It twirls around before pointing at Wonbin. She grins mischievously. "Wonbin, I dare you to strip and go skinny dipping with me."

The room erupts in cheers and laughter, the boys howling at the suggestion. Wonbin, however, chuckles and shakes his head, opting to take a drink instead.

Soohee rolls her eyes dramatically. "Come on, guys! This game is boring if no one does the dares. Step it up!"

With a determined look, Wonbin spins the bottle, and it lands on Anton. Anton's eyes widen as everyone hoots and hollers, anticipating the dare.

"Alright, Anton," Wonbin says, his voice dripping with mischief, "I dare you to make out with the hottest girl in the room."

The group falls silent, all eyes on Anton as he blushes furiously. You can feel your own cheeks heating up, heart pounding as you wait to see what he'll do. Anton looks around nervously, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than the others.

Anton hesitates, his mind racing. He can feel the weight of everyone's eyes on him, especially yours. The truth is, he already knows who the hottest girl in the room is to him, but saying it out loud and acting on it in front of everyone feels daunting.

With a deep breath, he glances at you again, the unspoken feelings swirling in his eyes. "I—"

But before he can finish, the group erupts in cheers and laughter again, breaking the tension. Anton, still flustered, grabs his drink and takes a large gulp, avoiding the dare.

You can't help but feel a mix of relief and disappointment. You give him a supportive smile, hoping to ease his nerves. Anton looks at you, his eyes filled with gratitude and something else you can't quite place. The game continues, but you and Anton share a few more glances, the unspoken tension between you growing stronger with each passing moment.

As the game progresses and the drinks flow, the atmosphere in the basement becomes increasingly lively. Laughter fills the air, and the group becomes more daring with each spin of the bottle. You’ve mostly opted for drinks over dares, feeling the effects of the alcohol start to kick in. Your inhibitions are lowered, and a warm buzz settles over you as you join in the fun.

It's your turn again, and you watch as Soohee gives the bottle a playful spin. It twirls around before slowing down and pointing directly at you. The room erupts into cheers and laughter, and you can't help but giggle nervously as all eyes turn to you.

Soohee grins mischievously. "Alright, ____, I dare you to kiss the most attractive male in the room."

You scoff, feeling emboldened by the alcohol coursing through your veins. "Pfft, easy," you say with a playful smirk.

Without hesitation, you turn to Anton, your heart pounding in your chest. His eyes widen in surprise, his cheeks flushing as he meets your gaze. The room falls silent, anticipation hanging thick in the air.

With a boldness you didn’t know you possessed, you lean in and press your lips against his, the kiss soft but filled with an undeniable electricity. Cheers erupt from the group as they watch in amazement, some even whistling and hollering in approval.

For a moment, everything fades away except for the sensation of Anton’s lips against yours, the warmth of his embrace, and the pounding of your heart. It feels like time slows down, and you lose yourself in the moment, forgetting about everything else but the connection between you and Anton.

When you finally pull away, breathless and flushed, the room erupts into cheers and applause. Anton stares at you, his eyes wide with surprise and something else you can't quite place.

Soohee claps you on the back, grinning from ear to ear. "Now that's what I call a dare!" he exclaims, earning laughter and agreement from the others.

As the cheers and applause die down, you begin to realize the weight of what just happened. Your heart races with a mix of nerves and excitement, unsure of what this means for your relationship with Anton.

Anton's eyes meet yours, his expression unreadable as he stands and reaches out to take your hand, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "Come on," he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Let's get out of here."

You feel a pang of disappointment as Anton leads you away from the group, away from the pulsating energy of the party. A part of you wants to stay, to revel in the adrenaline rush of the moment, but another part knows that you need to talk, to figure out what this kiss means for your friendship.

But as Anton guides you up the stairs, you can't help but whine, dragging your feet like a child being dragged away from their favorite toy. "But I don't want to leave," you protest, your voice slurred from the alcohol. "I'm having fun."

Anton shoots you a warning look, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "____, we need to talk," he says firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Reluctantly, you follow him into an empty bedroom, the noise of the party fading into the background. Anton closes the door behind you, and for a moment, there's nothing but silence between you.

"I..." Anton starts, his voice trailing off as he struggles to find the right words. "I don't know what this means for us, but... that kiss, it felt..."

Before he can finish, you cut him off with a giggle, swaying unsteadily on your feet. "Anton, you're overthinking it," you say with a drunken smile. "Let's just go back to the party."

But Anton shakes his head, a determined look in his eyes. "No, we need to talk about this."

You pout, feeling suddenly overwhelmed by the seriousness of the situation. "Fine," you mumble, crossing your arms over your chest.

Anton sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. He realizes that you're too drunk to have a proper conversation, too caught up in the moment to fully understand the implications of what just happened. With a heavy heart, he decides to abandon the conversation for now, knowing that it's pointless to try to reason with you in your current state.

Instead, he takes a deep breath and gently guides you out of the room, back towards his dorm. You stumble slightly, leaning on him for support as you navigate the streets together.

When you finally reach his room, Anton helps you onto his bed, tucking you in with gentle hands. You mumble a sleepy thank you, already drifting off into a drunken slumber.

Anton watches you for a moment, his heart heavy with uncertainty. He knows that things will never be the same between you, that this kiss has changed everything. But as he looks down at your sleeping form, a small smile tugs at his lips. Maybe, just maybe, this could be the beginning of something new.

With a sigh, he turns away, grabbing a makeup wipe to gently wipe off your makeup. He changes you into one of his oversized shirts and a pair of his boxers, making sure to avert his eyes as he does so.

Once you're settled, he takes a pillow and a blanket, making himself comfortable on the floor beside the bed. He knows that he needs to be there for you, to take care of you, even if it means sacrificing his own comfort.

As he drifts off to sleep, thoughts of you swirl through his mind. He feels nervous about what the future holds for your friendship, but also excited at the possibility of something more. And as he falls asleep beside you, he knows that whatever happens, he'll always be there for you, ready to support you through whatever comes your way.

The morning light filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow into Anton's room. You slowly blink your eyes open, groaning at the pounding headache that greets you. As you try to piece together the events of last night, memories flood back to you in bits and pieces. The party, the drinking, the kiss...

Your heart sinks as you realize where you are. You sit up slowly, the room spinning slightly as you take in your surroundings. You're in Anton's room, and the memories of the drunken kiss flood back to you with embarrassing clarity. You feel stupid for letting things get out of hand, for letting your feelings show in such a reckless way.

As you start to get dressed, pulling on your pants with shaky hands, the door creaks open and Anton enters, carrying a glass of water and some pills. You freeze, your heart racing as you meet his gaze. There's a moment of awkward silence as you both stand there, unsure of what to say.

Anton breaks the silence first, holding out the water and pills to you. "Here," he says softly, his voice gentle. "You'll feel better after you take these."

You take the medicine gratefully, mumbling a small thank you as you swallow the pills with a sip of water. Anton watches you carefully, his expression unreadable as he waits for you to speak.

Finally, he clears his throat, his voice hesitant. "About last night...," he starts, trailing off as he searches for the right words. "I wanted to talk to you about the kiss."

Your heart sinks even further, and you feel a blush creeping up your cheeks. "Oh, uh... yeah," you mumble, trying to play it off casually. "It was just a stupid drunken kiss. We were both drunk, and I... I didn't mean anything by it."

Anton's gaze softens, and you can see the doubt flickering in his eyes. He takes a step towards you, his voice barely above a whisper. "Do you mean that?" he asks, his tone gentle but insistent. "Or... do you have feelings for me?"

You feel a lump forming in your throat, and you struggle to find the right words. "I... I don't know," you admit, feeling flustered and exposed under his gaze. "It was just a... a stupid mistake."

But Anton knows you're lying, knows you're trying to brush off something that meant more to both of you than you're willing to admit. With a newfound confidence, he takes another step towards you, closing the distance between you.

"____," he says softly, reaching up to caress your cheek with trembling fingers. "I've loved you for years. That kiss... it meant everything to me."

You stare up at him in shock, your heart pounding in your chest. You're not sure how to respond, not sure if you're ready to face the truth of your feelings for him. But before you can say anything, Anton leans in, his lips capturing yours in a gentle, hesitant kiss.

For a moment, everything fades away except for the warmth of Anton's embrace, the softness of his lips against yours. As the kiss deepens, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer, Anton hums, his right hand slides under your hair to rest on your neck.

You quietly moan when he spreads your mouth with his and slips his tongue into your wet mouth. Anton’s fingers are tangled in your hair, his thumb resting on the side of your face. He tilts his head and deepens the kiss. He moans when he wraps his tongue around yours. He rests his other hand on the small of your back as he reclines you slowly, carefully, until you are laying down and he is hovering over you. He retracts his left hand from your back and starts to slowly rub circles on the inside of your thighs.

You slightly push him away feeling overwhelmed with all the new sensations but you know you need to tell him this before anything else happens, “I love you too.”

Anton smiles down at you and pecks your lips once more, “I love you more.”

In that moment you feel a sense of completeness wash over you, a feeling of rightness that you've never experienced before. As you lose yourself in his eyes, in the warmth and safety of Anton's embrace, you know that this is just the beginning of your journey together, the start of something beautiful and true.

#lee anton #anton imagines #anton x reader #riize anton #anton lee #riize chanyoung #riize scenarios #riize imagines #riize x reader #riize #riize fluff #lee chanyoung imagines #chanyoung x reader #chanyoung imagines #lee chanyoung #chanyoung fluff #riize anton imagines

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himejoshikomaeda · 18 hours

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do you have any tips on talking with your headmates better? i always feel like i'm trying to talk with them but there's no one actually listening... it makes me very sad since i'd like to know them better and to make switching easier for them... :( ty if you do but don't worry too much if you don't! ily!

yeah, actually, i think i do have some tips!!

first of all, don't feel like you're faking if their voice sounds like yours, or if their thoughts feel like you're the one thinking them. that's totally normal, but after some practice it gets a lot easier to differentiate them, in my personal experience.

if having thought-to-thought conversations is proving to be too difficult (for now), you can try speaking out loud for your half of the conversation. i did that for a while, and it helped when things were too noisy in my head to hear each other properly.

if even speech-to-thought conversations are proving difficult, may i suggest creating a personal discord server with a channel specifically dedicated to conversation between yourself and your headmates? i used to do this even before making a pluralkit, but pluralkit really helped us form solitary identities.. something about the name and profile picture really helps out.

if none of this works, and you just can't get a response back no matter what, it's possible that your headmate wants something. getting them gifts that they'd like or doing activities they enjoy can help them come "closer to the front" in order for communication to be easier, hehe!!

hope any of this helps!!

#💘

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screamingcrows · 1 day

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🎲 hehe

You rolled 41! A kiss out of spite is coming right up (also I lied; I ended up going with neither Dottore nor Albedo) but a secret third option)

Alhaitham knew it was his fault you were currently huffing and puffing in frustration, angrily collecting scattered papers and books, snapping them shut with no care for placing a bookmark first. You had been prone to such harmless, if petty, ploys of revenge since he'd first met you.

Admittedly, your shared space had begun resembling the aftermath of an exam season, something neither of you had needed to stress about for years. When he shifted slightly in the couch it didn't go unnoticed, and his stomach churned at the scowl on your face. He hated this just as much as you, but there was nothing to be done really.

"I said I'd tidy up once I was finished working," he attempted to pacify, making his voice as neutral as possible.

"Not everything can be pushed around based on your schedule," you snapped at him, voice shaking slightly.

So this was about more than just the clutter then. Gently closing the book in his hand, Alhaitham considered how to proceed, letting his eyes drift towards your face. For a moment, he wondered if spring had finally set in before realising with a bleeding heart that your eyes were red for an entirely different reason.

You were evidently upset, holding his stare with a passion that was rare. It clicked into place far sooner than he'd have liked, he'd been horrible, hadn't he?

"I-.. I haven't been fair to you these past few weeks. This was precisely what I've wanted to avoid, and I'm sorry for not noticing sooner," he stood up as he spoke, hating the way you stepped back, placing a broom between the two of you. Another barrier.

"I've barely spoken to you since you became the Acting Grand Sage, barely even seen you, and- and I thought today would be different. I got so excited that you stayed home 'haitham, I cleared my damned schedule to stay with you,"

He took a deep breath, knowing now would be a bad time to point out that he'd never made any indication that he would have any free time today. That wasn't a conversation either of you needed right now. Before he could reply, you already made a verbal lunge.

"There's no partnership in this, and I'm sick and tired of doing everything without so much as a single acknowledgement from you and-"

"Sit."

"What? No."

Alhaitham did what he could to stop his hands from trembling when he reached out and pried the broom from you, immediately regretting having let it clatter to the ground, the sound doing nothing to break the tension.

With a gentle shove he gets you to sit, taking a spot beside you, hand firmly wrapped around yours, heart beating heavy in his chest at the thought of having been so blinded.

"The day isn't over, my work can wait. We could go for a picnic, it shouldn't be too warm and we have leftovers to bring. I can go to the bazaar and get fruit while you get ready," his mind was running as fast as possible, voice struggling to keep up.

"I don't want it to be forced, and that's exactly what you're doing right now."

His eyes widened slightly, struck by lightning when you pulled your hand from his.

"Tomorrow then, the entire day?"

He saw how your eyes narrowed, which only made the surge of relief when you yanked his earpiece to the side and kissed his ear that much greater. You were still scowling, arms crossed in front of your chest, but most likely it was for show now.

"Three more weeks and I'm back to lazing around as much as you want. And ah-," he cleared hos throat sheepishly, "handling my own clutter in a more timely manner."

#weirdly romantically nervous alhaitham has my heart i'm sorry #they bathe together that night and fuck nasty afterwards btw #sorry lmao #screaming at the murder #alhaitham x reader

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mackmp3 · 7 months

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song that i wrote

#it's full of mistakes but yknow what i think it's pretty good #to be fair i recorded it in under two hours and the bass is a first take #and i wrote the majority of it in like an hour and half the other day #because deadlines #haven't posted any of my original stuff on here before #hope you like it :D #musicking #and now you know what my voice sounds like hehe #lyrics partially inspired by a certain demon because apparently i have exactly one braincell left #lead guitar turned out pretty good i reckon i don't ususally play lead #the ms paint violence headphones guy is me frantically recording this btw <3 /j

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sceletaflores · 7 months

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A Different Kind of Compensation.

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part two!

pairing: mike schmidt x fem!reader

prompt: you’ve been babysitting abby for mike nearly three months now. he constantly apologizes for not paying you yet, you constantly tell him it doesn't bother you. one night he comes back from his shift at freddy’s and has a different idea on how to compensate you for all of your hard work.

warnings: 18+, oral (fem receiving), vaginal fingering (kinda???), munch!mike.

word count: this was supposed to be a short dirty work that somehow turned into a 2.2k monster. told you i love to ramble.

authors note: remember when i said i might write smut if i was just so moved by an ask? well turns out my very first ask moved me. y'all are nasty, i love it. mike, of course, is a munch because why would he be anything else? i never, with a capital N, write smut so please bear with me if it sucks. i hope whoever requested this loves it! i wrote it instead of finishing my scientific article for bio so it better be decent hehe.

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The sound of the front door opening followed by heavy footsteps woke you up from where you were dozing off on the couch. You gazed at the clock on the side table near you and sure enough, 6:10 blinked back at you. Mike was finally home. You heard him shuffling around in the kitchen, most likely shedding his work vest and hanging his keys on the little hook by the door.

You yawned, trying to rub the sleep out of your eyes as you sat up on the couch. The blanket you used to cover yourself falling to pool around your waist. Mike finally made his way to the living room, sitting on the couch with a soft grunt.

“Hey,” he said quietly, his voice rough from lack of use. “Abby eat anything?”

“Yeah, a little,” You mutter back through a barely concealed yawn, head lolling to rest on the back of the couch. “You know how she is.”

He hums in acknowledgement but stays silent apart from that, keeping his gaze trained on the infomercial playing on TV. A comfortable silence settles over the two of you. You sit up even further on the couch, leaning against the arm rest facing Mike. The blue/green hue of the TV bathed him in light, his hair was unruly with curls sticking out at awkward angles. He had deep bags under his eyes. Just as you thought about getting up to take off, he spoke up again.

“I promise I’ll get you the money,” he says softly, not taking his eyes off the TV, “I…I just need some time.”

You scoff in mock annoyance, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “Mike, you know I don’t care about the money. I don’t mind doing this for you.” You reply, nudging his knee with your foot softly then just leaving it perched on his lap.

Mike finally turns to look at you, there's a strange look on his face that you can’t quite place, but you give him a small smile all the same. He stares at you for a few beats, you can practically see the gears turning in his head.

“You deserve something,” he whispers, his brows furrowed in frustration. “You do so much for me, it’s only fair.” As he speaks, he slowly moves his hand off the couch to your ankle still resting on his thigh, he starts rubbing slow circles over the skin there. His eyes never left yours as he touched you, a very obvious question in them. Asking if you wanted this.

Heat instantly rushed to your belly, cheeks turning a light shade of red at his touch. You’d always thought Mike was attractive, but you never would have imagined he’d want to be anything more than friends. Since he was already so busy with taking care of Abby and his hellish new job.

You swallow once before speaking, your throat feeling dry all of a sudden. “What are you suggesting?” You ask so softly, wondering if he even heard you. Mikes’ fingers stop in favor of trailing his hand up your calf in a featherlight touch, disappearing under the blanket to seek out more of your soft skin. Your heart is beating so fast you think you might die, the sound of it echoing in your ears loudly.

Mike's big brown eyes stare into yours with a newfound intensity, visibly shocked that you're reacting so viscerally to his touch, his pupils are blown to hell. Chocolate brown being swallowed by black. His tongue coming out to sweep over his top lip.

“How about you,” he says slowly, scooting closer to you on the small couch. He crowds into your personal space like he belongs there. Mike’s lips inches away from yours. He smells like old leather and dust from being cramped in the security office at Freddy’s. Your chest heaves as your eyes flit back and forth from his eyes to his lips. Seconds drag by like hours as you painstakingly wait for him to finish his sentence. “Stay right there while I make you feel good.” He finally says, his breath fanning over your face hotly. You can’t even speak, afraid of how desperate you might sound, just nodding your head roughly, not looking away from his hungry gaze.

Mike’s hand runs up your leg quickly after you give him the green-light, slipping further under the blanket and higher up your leg until he reaches his destination. He rubs you gently through your shorts, your breath hitches sharply at what should be just a simple touch, but you’re still so worked up from earlier that it feels ten times more extreme. You grasp the blanket still strewn over your lap tightly in your fists, it's the only thing keeping you from seeing Mike’s hand at work between your legs.

Mike reacts to touching you for the first time like he can feel it too. His breath stutters out of his chest, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of your already wet folds through your thin cotton sleeping shorts. “Fuck.” He breathes out quietly, so quietly you doubt he even meant to say it out loud. He opens his eyes again, breathing slightly rougher as he stares at you through his arousal induced haze and heavy eyelids.

Seeing your face must spur him on because he starts rubbing with more fervor than before, his clever fingers applying more pressure making you moan softly. You cut yourself off quickly, eyes darting down the hall to Abby's bedroom door. It's still closed, there's no light leaking through the crack between it and the floor.

"Shit, Mike." You whine quietly.

Mike groans softly at the sound of his name leaving your lips, body trembling slightly with the feeling. Suddenly he wrenches his hand out from under the blanket, and rips it off your lap frantically. You gasp sharply at the cool air breaking through the bubble of warmth the blanket provided, involuntarily closing your legs.

Mike pushes up from his position on the couch next to you, knee walking over so he's kneeling in-front of your clenched thighs. You're still slightly sprawled across the cushions, leaning on the arm of the couch.

"Do you know how crazy you make me?" He asks roughly, putting both his hands on your still closed knees. It takes a second for your brain to catch up to answer him, after a few moments you finally manage a faint shake of your head.

"No?" He asks, tilting his head to the left slightly. "Let me show you then."

Mike grabs your wrist, tugging you closer to him, and leads your hand down into his lap. Your breath catches in your throat when he places your hand directly over his clothed erection, but it gets drowned out by Mike's louder whine thanks to you touching him for the first time. You drag your eyes downward, his dark grey sweatpants leave little to the imagination. He got more worked up touching you than you first thought, if the wet patch forming near the tip of his hard-on was anything to go by.

As soon as you started to rub him with purpose, Mike grabbed your wrist, halting your efforts. "No," He said breathlessly, practically panting. "No, this is for you tonight. Just wanna focus on you."

He let go of your wrist, turning his head in your direction. Both of you failed to realize how close you'd gotten when he dragged you to him. Your noses practically touch when he turns, catching you both off guard. His eyes travel down to your lips, staring at how red and puffy they'd gotten from you biting them to muffle your moans.

"How sweet of you, Mike." You whisper, leaning in just a tad closer. He lets out a guttural groan and closes the distance between your lips, claiming your mouth with his own. He leans forward, gently guiding you to lay back on the couch. His body completely covering yours as the two of you makeout, his arms on either side of your head and his hips slotting against yours, letting you feel the hard length of his cock against your cunt. You moan into his mouth, your hips bucking up to meet his.

Mike breaks the kiss with a whine, trying to muffle the noise by shoving his face in your neck. You bring your hands up to tangle in his curly hair, yanking it roughly as he starts littering kisses all along your collarbones. Nipping and sucking in-between his gasping little moans as you twist and pull his hair in your grip.

He tears his mouth away to stare up at you through his lashes, his lips are swollen and red. “Please,” He gasps out, his hips unconsciously grinding down into your thigh. “Let me eat you out. Please. Tell me I can, say I can.” He babbles, hips rutting faster every second you don’t answer him.

“Yes.” You exclaim as quietly as possible. “Do it, Mike. Eat me out.”

Mike’s whole body shudders at your words, eyes falling closed for a second before he quickly slides down your body, leaving an odd kiss here and there as he goes. He brings his hands up to grip the waistband of your shorts, pausing to take a single steadying breath, then he tugs them down along with your panties and tosses them aside. He stares down at you in awe for a good few moments before he lays on his stomach, right in front of your dripping cunt.

Mike kisses along the inside of your thighs for a bit, licking everywhere but where you want him to the most. “Thank you.” he mutters, tone way too earnest for the situation at hand but you don’t have much time to think about it before he’s diving face first into your thighs.

“Fuck!” You let your voice get way too loud in the quiet atmosphere of the house, but you can’t help it. You didn’t think Mike had lots of experience because of some late night drunken talks before, but he was either lying or holding out. He works his tongue expertly along every inch of you. Every swirl, flick, or suck has you catapulting to the edge way faster than you’d imagined.

It doesn't help that Mike keeps letting out these noises. Small needy whines or deep guttural groans that you can feel. He’s moaning like he’s the one getting head, unashamed and authentic. It’s so fucking sexy.

“Shit Mike, I’m close. I’m so close.” You whisper too quietly for him to hear with his head trapped between your thighs, but it doesn’t matter. Mike brings his thumb up to lightly circle your clit as he laps against your entrance, and you're gone.

Your thighs shake as you release, grabbing on Mike’s hair for dear life as you go through the most intense orgasm ever. He moans into your cunt, working you through the aftershocks. He laves his tongue along you until the overstimulation gets to be too much and you drag his face away by his hair.

He sits up, the bottom half of his face covered in spit and slick. That visual alone is almost enough to get you ready for round two. It’s silent except for the heavy breathing coming from you both.

After he catches his breath, Mike retrieves the blanket from behind his back somewhere to cover the lower half of your body. Your thighs are still shaking as he lays next to you, it’s a tight squeeze but neither of you seem to mind. He kisses the side of your face sweetly, throwing his arm around your waist to pull you in even closer.

You finally regain enough conscience to speak. “Are you sure you don’t want to get off?” You ask, “I mean I can’t feel my legs but I’m sure we could think of something.” Mike only laughs quietly, shaking his head. “Maybe next time, this was about you.” He said, beginning to rub his fingers back and forth on your hip. “Plus I, uh, I already sort of…” He trails off, a flush forming on his cheeks.

It took you a second to realize what he was saying, but when it clicked you couldn’t help the small giggle that escaped your mouth. You lifted up the blanket covering the two of you, and sure enough Mike had an impressive wet patch seeping through his sweats.

He pinches your hip lightly, offended by your giggling. “Don’t laugh at me,” He complains with a smile, yanking the blanket back up. “I couldn’t help it.”

You stifle another laugh to the best of your ability, though your shoulders still shake ever so slightly. You turn your head to press a kiss to his lips. It’s different from the previous kisses you shared tonight. It’s slower and softer, full of a new emotion that you both feel, but know that it can wait to be talked about later. For now you’re both just basking in the afterglow.

You break the kiss first, pulling back only slightly to lean your forehead against his. You both smile at each other for a second.

“Okay,” You give in, brushing a strand of sweaty hair away from his face. “But believe that tomorrow is all about you.”

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rowarn · 4 months

Text

afab!reader, gn!reader, intoxicated sex (keegan drank a lil hehe), loud!keegan, lots of moaning, creampie, lovesick keegan, pussydrunk keegan

Keegan who, on a normal day, would never let you hear him let loose with his moans. Its not that he's self-conscious or anything but he prefers to be able to hear you whining and whimpering.

But maybe he gets a few drinks in him, unwinds and grows complacent. His lips get loose the second he gets his cock stuffed into the tight, hot clutch of your precious cunt.

He’s got you creaming around the base of him and he just…can’t shut up. He starts whimpering, moaning, and sighing – it’s music to your ears, actually.

“So good,” he pants, fingers minutely trembling where he holds your hips down so he can pump his length into you with ease, “It’s so good. You’re so wet, fuck, do you know what you do to me? You drive me crazy…”

You whine his name, eyes lidded and staring up at him with that dazed, cockdrunk look on your face that you always seem to wear when he’s got you pinned underneath him – how could you not? He fucks you so, so well and he knows it.

“That’s it, baby,” he coos, voice cracking at the end when you suddenly squeeze down around him, “Keep sayin’ my name. Love hearin’ it – keep tellin’ me who it is that’s making you feel this good, hm?”

His name falls from your lips like a heavenly plea, your eyes rolling back in your head when he moans, loud and unabashed. He tosses his head back, adams apple bobbing as he struggles to swallow around the lump in his throat.

It’s never felt this good before, he swears. Usually alcohol makes it harder for him to get off – sometimes even makes it hard for him to get hard. But something different tonight, he’s so sensitive and he can feel how full his balls are and all he can think about is pumping a dozen loads into you until they’re completely empty.

He needs it. He needs you.

“Love you so much,” he pants, body collapsing onto yours, chest to chest as his hips pitifully rabbit into you, barely even pulling out before he’s humping the length back into you, “Love you, fuck, I love you.”

You cry his name, nails scraping down his back as your entire body twitches. You can’t escape the stimulation with his weight pressed down on you the way it is. You can’t push him away for a break, you can’t get respite from the overwhelming stimulation of his cock pumping into you or his pelvic bone grinding against your clit.

It sends you hurdling over the edge terrifyingly fast. Your feet kick uselessly against the back of his thighs as your eyes roll back in your head.

Keegan moans, panting and gasping into your neck where he hides his face as he feels you cum around him. It pulls his own orgasm forth and he’s spilling into you in 3 quick pumps of his hips.

Even as his orgasm crests and fades, he doesn’t stop – keeps humping your sensitive cunt until you’re cumming again. And again. And again.

It was going to be a long night and by now, you could barely even hear yourself over the sound of Keegan’s moaning and babbled praises.<3

do not respost to a third party site, translate, or modify. reblogs OK!

#keegan p russ smut #keegan p russ x reader #keegan smut #keegan x reader #cod smut #cod x reader

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noxtivagus · 1 year

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hdalkfjsldf i miss my friends :c

#🌙.rambles #sometimes i. hmm. usually actually i may be too busy or too shy to say it outright #but i miss when we'd talk. i miss when we'd call; i miss the sound of your voice n the way you laugh n smile #sorry . i just. really write like that. hdfkasdjfd i love the ppl in my life v much :c #i know the way my eyes turn when i see you online. or the way i notice the songs you play. or when you have a new playlist #n always i still find there's so much more i want to say. n when you appear too in my dreams—how could i ever forget?#oh these tags r just gna be for several ppl so i won't be too obvious about it #i miss when i was less busy n we'd exchange. asks? texts? yeah. & when we'd play tgther n i rmb how i'd always look forward to the next tim #i miss the days when. i used to write about you being in them. bcs i write down.. mostly everything so that i can remember.#i miss when we were kids n us four wld hang out in the library. i miss those days so much #i miss in lower school when we'd run around the field.. imagining scenarios. hehe #i rmb writing stories tgther w some other friends. having my friends read what i write too #yeah. i miss when we'd be able to see n talk w each other nearly every day. whether irl or online.#i do find myself missing when my sleep sched was fucked up bcs i used to talk to ppl quite a lot in those times #i miss. so much but we're all getting busier in our own lives. n i wish. i think. i cld be more in each of them. like. mutually?#but yeah yk as we age there's so much more to manage :c but i can't help but dream. i'll never stop.#n. i think this is combined w a lot of ppl lately like. those i haven't talked w as much. which is. nearly everyone actually #but like yk like w.. my friend grp rn yh n. a lot of other stuff combined. i just. i think i just wish we cld all be more sincere w #each other. now i see even more clearly why people drift apart as they age. we all get busy w each our own lives yk?#n i'm busy w my own too but. just like how i still remember n love everyone dearly. i think. i just need reassurance that.#yk. you feel the same way too. n personally i wish i cld hesitate less but i'm afraid of unintentionally adding more to the burden #n other times i just. really lack the energy. idk there's so much to write n in so many aspects.. just so many left unfinished.#but. i know well how. closure is. hard to get by. i'm very well acquainted w that feeling of lack of closure.#hmm. being insatiable is so bittersweetly part of human nature. we can be happy n satisfied but.. yeah honestly i think #it's just. really in life's nature to never ever be quite enough. so changing mindset is. really important but. still. it aches.#n i know i miss a lot. n i know i wish i did more n i cld do more even now. but we're all busy n #no it's. it's fine. i think what's best is for all of us to do what we can with our own selves so that we can do more w the rest of the #world too. n i'm sure i'll find a way that works for me. i know what i want; & i'll just promise to never let go. never forget.#n that wld be enough rn. theres only so little time in the world n it feels like it goes by far too fast but. i for one has never forgotten #n. i'll always be here. BUT YEAH WAIT I'M ACTUALLY BUSY TOO I SHLD DO MY ASSIGNMENTS TMRRW BCS I WNA REST 😭😭

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ponderingmoonlight · 1 month

Note

Gojo falls ill and reader does finishes his missions and her own missions as well do Gojo doesn't have a pile of work waiting for him once he gets better. Gojo gets better. And finds out. Hehehehe Lobe u babes

omg I love this, let's do it hehe

Reader finishing Gojo's missions when he falls sick and he finds out

Pairing: Gojo x wife!reader

Word Count: 2,3k

Synopsis: When your husband falls sick, you don't think twice about completing all of his tasks in order for him to not be stressed - even if it means multiple sleepless nights for youself. Little did you know that your husband will find out about it and thank you in his own way...

Warnings: pure fluff over fluff so enjoy, Gojo basically being THE husband for y'all, not proofread because it's already darn late here and I'm way too tired

„Oh come on, don’t tell me the honoured one caught a cold”, you playfully tease your beloved husband.

He’s definitely ill, there’s no doubt in that. The way his forehead is covered in sweat, his unusual pale face paired with his heavy breathing. Let alone the sight of his red and runny nose.

You never thought this is possible. After all, Satoru is one of the few people who are able to use revered technique. Isn’t he able to heal himself, to prevent his body from falling sick?

“Looks like I overdid it those last weeks. My body is catching up on my apparently”, he replies weakly along with a nasty sounding cough.

You know all too well these last weeks were like a trip to hell and back for him. This is actually the first time you saw your husband after one whole week of him running from mission to mission and coming home into bad past after midnight. Being two special grade sorcerers, it is your responsibility to prevent the worst things from happening. Especially during summer, the number of curses triples. And that paired with the stinging fact that jujutsu sorcerers die like flies each and every day…

It’s no wonder his body took a toll on him.

“You’ll stay here for the rest of the week, babe”, you instruct him gently while pulling a blanket up his chest.

“Nah, no chance. I’ll have a pile of work when I get back and-AH.”

It’s frightening, the way he almost chokes while coughing so roughly that it vibrates through your whole body. This doesn’t sound good at all. To be exact, you’ve never seen your husband like this despite the fact that you’ve been together for multiple years by now. If he’s feeling this miserable, it’s definitely time for a break.

“Don’t worry about that. I hold the position while you’re gone.”

Little did he know you meant that.

-a week later-

“It’s far past midnight. Why are you still up, (y/n)?”

His hoarse voice rips you out of your microsleep immediately, lids so heavy they feel like closing by themselves if you don’t pay close attention.

“Oh, just work.”

No, it’s not just work. Apart from the daily drama you have to endure, you made it your mission to complete each and every task your husband would face as soon as he comes back. You know all too well he’ll throw himself fully into work again, not thinking about his own health a single second. And to prevent that, you decided to finish his missions as well, to teach his students, to do anything in your power to prevent Satoru from a pile of work.

Including swollen eyelids, constant grumpy mood, no effort to eat and your shoulders hanging down onto the ground.

You hate to admit it, but you are exhausted. You never realized how much work your husband does during the day. Must be easier for him, though. Teleportation sure sounds nice at the moment…

“I’m worried about you, babe. Are the elders bombarding you with work again? Maybe I need to have a serious talk again-“

“No, don’t think too much about it. I’m just hanging on a bit, that’s it”, you lie.

Oh, Satoru knows it is. After all, you’re talking about yourself. You, so disciplined that you’d never leave work unattended. No, it’s absolutely impossible that you’re “hanging on a bit”. But what else is it? The dark circles underneath your eyes look like valleys in the soft light of a lamp, tired eyes failing to focus on the paperwork in front of you. Usually, this is what you’re doing straight in the morning when he’s still asleep. What keeps you so busy these last days? He has to find out, he-

He almost chokes on himself again, earning a concerned side eye from you. It’s been a week and he’s still sick to the brim. Worry lines decorate your face, palm gently resting against his scorching hot forehead.

“Off to bed with you.”

“Don’t stay up too long, okay? All you seem to do is work these last days”, your husband replies worried himself.

You sigh to yourself. That’s because you do. But leaving your husband to a pile of work after he returns to Jujutsu High only to get sick again? You grab the pen in your hand tighter, force your eyes to fully open. Only a few more days and you’ll be done. After all, you’re doing this for him, right?

Satoru is definitely worth the sleepless nights.

-a few days after-

“Turns out I’m fully back at normal again, babe!”, your husband announces proudly.

You blink against the harsh light of the merciless sun, eyes dry like sand. Only a few hours ago, you returned from a village Satoru was supposed to inspect. Well, minutes turned into hours when a special grade curse appeared out of no where and made your life living hell. The sun already began to rise when you carried yourself back into bed.

But still, you can’t help but smile at him. These last days were rough for him. Him, the strongest, passed out because of a cold. He wasn’t himself all this time, weak body bound into bed with his limbs aching.

“So glad to here that”, you mumble while pressing a gentle kiss onto his lips.

“Sleep in for a while, you look exhausted (y/n). I know you just came back a few hours ago and don’t you dare to lie at me.”

Your eyes widen in an instant, cheeks blushing ever so slightly. You were so careful about leaving and returning, his even and long breaths not giving a single hint that he might be awake.

“I’m heading to Jujutsu High, bet work piled up pretty bad. Wish me good luck and have a good rest princess, I’ll kick their asses if they try to call you!”

With one last loving glance at you, he’s gone. And you can’t help but pass out immediately.

“Guess who’s back to save the day!”, Satoru announces proudly into the room filled with his students and Yaga Masamichi who looks at him with the same disinterest as usual.

“You? Didn’t even know you even exist anymore”, Nobara mumbles while filing down her nails.

“How are you? (y/n) told us you were sick”, Yuji interjects.

“I’m completely back to normal!”

“What a shame”, Megumi mumbles under his breath.

“Sooo, what side of earth do I have to save today? I’m sure a lot of work piled up while I was gone. After all, I’m the strongest.”

Satoru stretches himself playfully, waiting for the director to tell him about all different kinds of missions, curses and teachings he has to deal with these next few days. But instead, he just shrugs his shoulders.

“What? Got nothing to say? Okay, let me guess, what about that special grade curse in the village-“

“Done”, Yaga Masamichi replies dryly.

“The combat training with the first year-“

“Done.”

“Any curses that appeared in Tokyo?”

“Done.”

“Taking care of-“

“Done.”

This can’t be true, the man in front of him has to joke. Apart from you, Satoru is the only special grade sorcerer here at Jujutsu High. No one would ever be able to fulfil some of those missions, let alone teach his students just like that. Not even the director himself is capable of dealing with that special grade curse he was talking about just before Satoru got sick. But who…?

“Didn’t your wife tell you she already managed all those things?”

Oh, he was so stupid that it hurts. All these nights he caught you almost falling asleep on your desk, the multiple times you sneaked out of bed far past midnight, the dark circles under your eyes. All this time, you weren’t only busy with your own missions. No, you actually fulfilled all of his work for him as well.

“Just the amount of work I have to do when I come back. Urgh, being sick sucks.”

“Don’t worry, love. I’m sure you’ll be fine.

Yeah, he sure as hell is. But only because you decided to make your own life living hell for two weeks straight.

“Please don’t tell me (y/n) did all of my stuff while I was gone.”

“I’ll never understand how a kind-hearted woman like her ended up with you. She didn’t even stop when I told her to and somehow managed to get information about the missions I prepared for your sick ass”, the director replies dryly.

“Call her in right now.”

Words aren’t enough to thank you for this. No, you deserve way more than that, way more than his mouth could ever give you.

“And let her leave again in about an hour.”

-an hour later-

“Again, sorry for calling you in, (y/n). Now get back home, you’re free tomorrow.”

“Thank you”, is all you’re able to reply, wobbly feet carrying you back into your car and onto the road.

You sigh to yourself. Well, you definitely didn’t expect the director to call you this early when you just returned from an exhausting mission. But who are you to say no to him? After all, it’s your job to do this, it’s your job to protect the innocent.

But…Is it also your job to answer strange questions from your students in the morning?

“Come on, use your brain! You know what the director said!”, Nobara hisses through gritted teeth, the trio sticking their heads together after you were forced to drop your haircare routine to Nobara.

“Ehm...so…well…”

“If you don’t have any further questions, I’ll go-“

“Yes! I have a question!”, Yuji screams so loudly that his voice echoes through your tired brain.

“What is it, Yuji?”, you mutter with your eyes closed.

“How exactly are babies made, (y/n)-san?”

“You’re an idiot…”, Megumi grumbles.

“Really? This is all you have left in your pea-sized brain?”

“What? You just told me to ask her something and that’s what I came up with!”, Yuji defends himself.

“Yeah, but that ‘something’ definitely didn’t include THAT!”

It’s almost as if they were forced to ask you dumb questions. You’ll definitely have a talk with your husband about their strange behaviour when you caught up on sleep. But before that…

You open the door with a swift motion.

Your heart skips a beat, eyes widen.

The usual so modern and clean living-room is now covered in rose pedals and filled with the fresh scent of sakura leaves, your couch unfolded and covered in the most fluffy blankets, pillows and stuffed animals you’re ever seen. And there he sits.

He, your beloved husband, holding up your bathrobe oh so inviting.

“What’s going on here?”, you breathe out.

Suddenly, all the exhaustion you felt earlier disappeared into thin air. Did he really do all of this for you? The candles flickering, the blankets, the strawberries covered in chocolate waiting on the table, him wearing that black t-shirt you love so much.

“Guess what, I found out what you did. Did you really think you’ll get away with stealing my work in silence?”, he teases, love dripping from each and every word he says.

“It was nothing”, you try to brush him off.

But instead, he gets up and grabs your hand in order to guide you into the dim bathroom that is only lightened by a few candles. Again, the lovely smell of sakura leaves radiates from the bathtub filled with bubbles and hot steam. Just the thought of letting yourself sink into that warm water, to finally release the tension in your sore muscles-

Before you’re even able to comprehend what’s happening, Satoru took off your clothes and lifts you off the ground with ease. Your body doesn’t dare to fight back, too weak from all the missions you completed these last days. Just the tip of your toe, relaxing in the water for a few minutes before returning to Jujutsu High…

“Nothing, huh? So you mean doing the stuff I need a month for in two weeks besides your own missions is nothing? Words can’t express how thankful I am to have such a sweet, caring and steaming hot wife”, he whispers against your ear, his fingers starting to massage your back oh so skilled.

You allow yourself to sink into his touch, to rest your eyes for a few minutes. Well, there is no denying in the fact that this was a little too much for you. All the fighting, the paper work, the heart and soul you poured in each and every work.

And then there’s him. Satoru, your beloved husband, who massages your back with his skilled fingers. How lucky you are to call him your husband, that he decided to spend the rest of his life with you. Even though he scolded you ever so slightly for managing his pile of work, you know he’d do the same for you in a heartbeat. What a treasure, how glad you are to know him, how wonderful he is…

“(y/n)?”, Satoru purrs against your ear.

You don’t response, chest rising and falling slow and steady. He can’t help but smile to himself, admiring he beauty of your finally resting face. Carefully, he lifts you out of the bathtub and covers your body in the fluffy bathrobe you love so much. You definitely deserve some rest for all the work you did these last days.

He can’t help but gently caress your cheek, making sure you’re completely tucked you underneath your favourite blanket.

“What a lucky man I am”, he mutters to himself while outlining your parted lips.

“To call someone so wonderful my wife…”

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@arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @hellkaiserinphoenix

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@gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3

@sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly

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(this took me forever so if I tagged u be so kind and leave a like/comment/reblog lol)

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onlyswan · 2 months

Text

summary: in which the sweet ache of yearning metamorphoses into the art of intimacy and knowing.

idol!jk x reader, est. relationship / fluffy fluff, a dash of angst, explicit content (minors dni!!) / word count: 10.5k

warnings/content: divided into seven parts. it’s like a timeline hehe <3 ; mainly in jk’s pov!! ; underaged drinking (oc is 18 in that part but the legal age of drinking in sk is 19 so!) ; mention of almost? n*des (neither sent by our mcs) ; making out ; thigh grinding ; brief or*l (f. rec + allusions to m. rec) ; mention and allusion to s*x [yesyes it’s the first time] [oc may or may not cry a little too…] ; they have a ‘what if i die before you?’ discourse lmao

playlist! restless - bibi ; lily of the valley - daniel ; who do you love - the black skirts ; intro (end of the world) - ariana grande ; snow - josh makazo

> in which masterlist!

note: look at my gorjus ethereal bf !!!! anyway… hi, i’m back ^_^ here’s my not so little offering to those who’s been missing the iw couple <3 as always i’d love to hear your thoughts :") come chat!!

—

I. THE FALLING

“just stay the night.” you blurt out, turning to jungkook to express your worry. “i can’t let you leave right now. it’s not safe.”

his wide eyes scan the headline of the news once more.

heavy snowfall, road accident, several injured… versus staying the night at the apartment of not quite his friend, not quite his lover, for the first time.

he can’t deny that he favors the latter over the former with an explicable feeling rendering him breathless. still, he can’t allow his enthusiasm to cloud his better judgement. he knows he’s still somewhat of a stranger to you. he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome or make you feel uncomfortable in your own space.

“are you sure you’re comfortable with it?”

“sure. should i be worried?“

“no! uhm, i just thought not everyone would be comfortable to have a person they’re not very close with to sleep over.”

you chuckle, lightly bumping your shoulder against his. “chill. i have bigger things to be scared of than the guy who just cried with me while watching an anime movie.”

oh… he thought you were too absorbed in wiping your own tears to notice him crying too.

he slumps back on the sofa with a sigh. “i see. i guess we’re left with no choice then.”

“i have an extra toothbrush!”

—

jungkook doesn’t quite understand people’s obsession with his eyes, but getting enamored by the innocence that yours seem to glisten with, he wonders if he is experiencing the same case.

“can you see if this fits you?”

you stand before him with a stack of neatly folded clothes, unraveling a pair of gray sweatpants to hold up infront of him.

“i think… there’s a string? oh, there’s none.”

he chuckles. “you forgot?”

“well, it’s not mine. my ex never came back for his clothes.“ you huff with a roll of your eyes, muttering a silent his loss into the air. “i’ve washed it though! don’t worry! it’s just- you know- sleeping in denim pants is uncomfortable.”

does that mean you still wear the clothes of your exes? this pisses him off for some unknown reason. he would much rather sleep uncomfortably than wear their clothes.

you kindly smile, pushing the black knitted sweater against his chest. “but this is mine. it’s really warm and comfortable!”

but on another note, you’re too sweet and thoughtful. how could he ever say no?

—

the sweatpants is a little loose around his waist. your sweater, however, feels incredibly soft against his skin. as he walks back into the living room, he pulls down his sweater paws and runs his hands across its sleeves. if he had to describe the feeling it evokes, he would say it is very much similar to rolling around on freshly washed and dried bedsheets.

“it’s nice, right?”

he whips his head around upon hearing the sound of your voice. for a quick second, you caress his arm with the back of your hand, and even with the barrier separating your skin from his, the casual touch causes his breath to hitch.

“i finished cleaning the room. i set up a comforter on the floor so you can take the bed.”

“is that so? thank you!”

he zooms past you. you’re left standing alone, blinking in confusion. he is more than happy to welcome himself into your bedroom… so he can slyly steal the bed you prepared for yourself. he slides under the covers, makes himself all cozy with his hands resting on the back of his head as if it’s not a raging winter and he’s lying under the summer sun.

“and what do we have here?”

jungkook cracks one eye open. there you are leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed. you raise your eyebrows at him, demanding an answer.

“what?” he smiles childishly. “you’re the one doing me a favor. i’m not going to let you sleep on the floor.”

“how polite. suit yourself, sir.” you shake your head in amusement, smiling.

you enter the room, flicking the lightswitch off and locking the door at the speed of light. without thinking, probably; muscle memory formed by your routine. he is the only thing not a part of it. yet.

“goodnight, jungkook.”

“goodnight.”

he still sees you moving around in the dark. you crouch down beside him and he feels the extra pillow he’s partially crushing under his weight be jerked away all of a sudden.

“i need this one. sorry.” you whisper-shout apologetically. “goodnight! sweet dreams!”

—

jungkook sighs, tired of mindlessly scrolling through social media. his eyes flutter shut as he allows his phone to collapse on his chest. he is yet to even figure out if going to work later would be possible because of the blocked roads. he has gotten enough earful about not heading straight to the dorm and he cannot risk any more. because then, he would have to see less of you.

he sneakily opens his eyes, craning his head to the side to steal a glance of you, but he finds that you’ve already fallen asleep on your textbook and he’s unable to look away again. bathed in the warm light of the lampshade on your bedside, he has never seen you more peaceful. he learns with hard evidence that you’re a side sleeper, curled up underneath the blanket and cutely snuggled against the pillow you took from him.

he doesn’t know how long he’s been admiring you, but he knows he doesn’t want you to think of him as a creep. you stir in your sleep and his hand swiftly flies to his phone. pretending to be absorbed in reading the first tweet he comes across, he tries taking another subtle glimpse of you.

it’s as if he’s been caught and punished.

he flinches.

your textbook collides with the floor, landing only inches next to his pillow. he begins sweating. he could’ve easily gotten a concussion at best, death at worst.

he sits up with his elbows anchoring him, poking around to investigate the cause of the fall. admittedly, he’s a little sad to see your back now facing him.

“shit, what am i doing?” he roughly rubs his face to knock some sense back into him.

he needs to get some sleep. yeah, that’s it. nothing more.

he picks up your textbook, taking it upon himself to bring it over to your desk. on his way back, he also decides to to turn off the lampshade.

his finger freezes on the button, however. he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip to silence the giggle that threatens to escape him— so fucking endeared to discover that you’ve kicked off your blanket and rolled over to your other side along with the pillow, your thigh carelessly slumped over it.

he tucks himself back into bed, heart feeling all warm and fuzzy.

“so, so adorable.”

the words escape him without thought; the smile on his face ever-present even as he drifts off to dreamland.

—

II. ALLOW ME TO LINGER BY THE DOOR

“hey, it’s getting late. shouldn’t you be heading home by now?”

you sit beside jungkook on the sofa after a phone call, and his round eyes grow twice their size when you steal the iced tea from his grasp, nonchalant as your lips wrap around the same red straw his have been only seconds ago.

he awkwardly clears his throat, perhaps to mask his loud heartbeat. “is your friend okay?”

“oh, she’ll be fine. it’s her fault so i can’t do much for her this time.” you shrug, picking up your chopsticks as you eye the last dumpling in the bowl. “still hate that guy, though.”

“the one you think is lying about being rich?”

“i don’t know much about real ones, but i’m pretty sure i’ve seen enough fake diamonds!”

that seems to hits the right spot to elevate your mood. you hum happily as you chew, collapsing on the cushions and looking straight ahead at the television screen.

“sorry about that. you must be bored and tired by now.”

“about that…” jungkook swallows his nervousness. he rests his arm on top of the sofa, just to act cool. he’s so close to you yet still so distant. “i’m dead tired from filming today. i’ve been up since four in the morning. would it be too much trouble if i spend the night again?”

“i should be the one asking you that. why do you like this trashy place way more than i do?” you shake your head, wiping your mouth with a paper napkin. “i’ll go fix up so you can rest then. you’re lucky minji didn’t claim the bed first.”

fuck, he was supposed to get kicked out?

“wait! do you need a change of clothes?”

“there’s no need!” he replies a little too quickly. if he has to wear the clothes of another one of your exes, he might end up on the news for setting himself on fire. “i have extras in my backpack i didn’t got to wear today.”

“oh, okay.” you flash him a smile before disappearing into the bedroom.

yeah, how convenient.

he exhales through his mouth.

when did he start lying? his mother would be very disappointed in him. but on the other hand, his father would explode in boisterous laughter and pat him on the back. nevermind… that just makes it worse.

“guess i’m going to hell!” he shrugs, wearing a smile that is rather too jubilant.

he grabs his backpack on the floor and heads to the bathroom; your home is another home away from home.

—

jungkook is exhausted from dance practice. he must’ve exerted himself too hard again without realizing it. for the third time this week, he’s attaching pain relief patches to his neck and shoulders, shirt pulled to the side as to expose the area. normally, he’d just take it off without care, but he’s in a different setting. while he’s pretty confident with the current condition of his body, it would be rude to strip out of nowhere. and you make him nervous. would he fluster you or would you fluster him? he’s not prepared to find out yet.

“are you okay?”

his movements from below capture your attention amidst catching up to the events in your group chats.

“i’m okay, just a little sore. don’t worry!” he waves off your concern with a scrunch of his nose. “i also fell asleep in the car earlier so…”

“i can give you a massage. if you want.”

“no, it’s fine.” even though the offer sounds extremely tempting, especially coming from you. “i know you’re tired too.”

“hm, your loss. i’m kind of an expert at it.”

he squints his eyes at you. “really?”

“you don’t believe me?”

you sit up on the bed with an offended gasp, and he laughs at how you quite literally rose up to the challenge.

“we do have actual experts come in and take care of us too, you know that?”

“excuse you, i’m an actual expert! i have more than a decade of experience!”

he isn’t surprised to witness you climb down immediately afterwards, sitting behind him with your hands already on his shoulders.

“hmm, my dad worked at construction sites. my mom had a desk job. this- this was my job.” your fingers begin pressing down as if you’re assessing him, touching the bare skin of his still exposed shoulder. “got paid with extra allowance. making money was easy back then.”

“you’re so adorab- ah, ah, ah-” his sentence is cut short by his own self when you apply pressure on a big knot, gently massaging it in small circles to loosen the tightly wound muscle fibers. “fuck, it hurts… yeah, that’s good. don’t stop.”

he hears you snort, feels your forehead collapse on his back as vibrant giggles rack your body. a blush of red creeps up to his cheeks and he’s thankful that you can’t see his face.

he laughs along, belly aching. “okay, okay- i heard it! i should keep my mouth shut!”

“no no no, i won’t laugh anymore!”

“you’re still doing it right now!”

“i’ll stop!” you sniffle, laughed to the point of tears. you squeeze his shoulders. “just relax! you’re so tense here, see? no wonder it hurts.”

there’s no denying that his body is pushed to its limits everyday; he has grown accustomed of this kind of lifestyle and he doesn’t complain. you’re making him want to do it all the time, though. if it means getting pampered like this? hell yeah.

“it hurts here too. over- over here-” he reaches a hand to his back, patting the area that has been bothering him all day. “this part. will you make it go away, please?”

“here? your shoulder blade?”

“yes!”

“okay. tell me if i should go gentler or harder. i don’t want to hurt you.”

it’s his turn to snort. he shortly learns that was not a smart move.

“ah, ah, ah-” you pull at his ear and this time he moans in pain. “oh, come on! you gave that one away!”

“shut up! you’re not allowed to laugh too!”

—

he tries not to create more embarrassing sounds. at some point he begun to busy himself with his phone, but to no avail, there are occasional moans and grunts he can’t bite down because you weren’t lying about being a pretty damn good masseur. and then he does it on purpose once, just to hear you laugh again, because his being already feels a million times lighter and you show no signs of exhaustion or boredom.

“you have a mole here,” you casually observe. he feels a light touch on the side of his neck and the butterflies in his stomach become untamed. “it’s sexy.”

he blushes, caught off guard by the compliment. “thank you.”

“you’re welcome.” you hum.

the minutes pass by and he is no longer faking silence, however. all he can think about now is how he wishes that he was lying down for this. how long has it been? you’ve been definitely at it for almost an hour. he yawns, eyelids fighting to stay open but failing miserably.

“hey, wipe your drool.”

he blinks. your beautiful face greets him— for a second, he’s convinced that he has begun dreaming. with a mischievous grin, you lift the collar of his shirt to wipe the corners of his lips, and in a state of near delirium, he cackles.

“seriously, thank you… i-i don’t even know what to say. i really needed that.” he sighs, carelessly rubbing his heavy eyes. “i’ll treat you to dinner tomorrow. how about that?”

“sounds good. now go to sleep.” you pat his back before rising on your feet. “your head kept on dropping and i felt bad.”

“that happens a lot.”

“well, it’s bad for your neck. keep doing it and i’ll get more free dinners.”

the unmistakable sound of a kiss that follows, it suspiciously matches with the warmth that lingers on his cheek.

“goodnight!”

“goodnight…” he only manages to mumble.

his mind has gone off to space. you tuck yourself into your bed after turning off the lampshade while jungkook feels like he just got blasted to the moon. he needs to get out of here. STAT.

“i’ll go drink some water. do you want me to get you a glass?”

“no, i’m fine.”

he makes out your figure shuffling in the dark, snuggled closely to a pillow.

he nods, which you probably didn’t even see. he steps out of the room as quietly as possible, slowly closing the door as to produce the smallest click. he pads to the kitchen still feeling light, almost like he’s walking on a path made out of clouds. he pours himself a glass of cold water from the fridge, chugs it down to the very last drop.

he licks his lips as he sets down the glass on the counter. he sighs deeply. he can still feel the outline of your lips, sticky lip balm printed on his skin. is it normal that he couldn’t be bothered to wipe it off?

“totally worth going to hell for.” he muses, unaware of the smirk that has started playing on his lips.

he briskly washes the glass at the sink, wiping it dry with a towel before deposting it back into the rack.

as expected, you’ve already fallen asleep by the time that he returns. the light from the hallway casts a glow over your face and it’s a sight that is painfully intimate in its own peculiar way.

he can’t put a name to it, but whatever this feeling is, he likes it and he wants it to last.

and so, he lingers by the door for a few seconds more.

—

III. THE YEARNING

jungkook hisses your name with yet another curse, heart so close to jumping out of his chest. when you were on the phone incoherently begging him to take you home from the club, he expected to carry out a passed out person from his car to their apartment floor, which he found no problem with aside from the possibility of having to deal with them throwing up.

instead, he is struck by an unusual combination of amusement and distress. he has been running around trying to capture you as you spend your final bursts of energy ringing strangers’ doorbells. your exhilarated laughter echoes throughout the hallways. he must confess that he was laughing along with you the first time… until it started to get a little bit out of hand.

if someone recognizes him by chance, he would be beyond fucked.

“don’t- don't do it! stop it! please!” he finally manages to seize your wrist before it can reach another, forced to wrap his arms around your torso so you won’t escape from him again. “are you crazy? it’s 3am! people are sleeping!”

“that’s the point.” you mewl, looking back to him with a childish pout underneath the hood of your coat. “why are they sleeping? it’s when the ghosts come out. does no one ever think about ghosts’ feelings? because i do! if i were a ghost, i’d be lonely and crying right now!”

oh my god, what is happening?

“so let’s invite them and everyone for more drinks!” you jump up and down, his secure hold doesn’t hold a candle to your hypernese. “jungkook, i want to drink more! more more more! buy me!”

unfortunately, he doesn’t have the time to dwell on your cuteness. he hears a door click from behind and his instincts instantaneously kick in. oh shit, you actually fucking woke someone up. he sweeps you off your feet, clasping a hand over your mouth to mute your angry protests. he turns at a corner, trapping you against the wall.

a deep and manly voice fills the silence. “hello? who’s there?”

two pairs of eyes widen, staring at each other as if they can read minds through them. he notices the unsteady rise and fall of your chest; your heart must be beating as fast as his. he has to pull down his black mask to be able to breathe.

“you’re going to be the death of me.” he grumbles with a pointed look.

when you smile, he perceives it first through the palm of his hand before it reaches your eyes. only then does he fully register the dangerously close proximity between you.

dangerous because he wants to kiss you.

dangerous because you’d dare him to do it and his self-control has been reduced to a million cracks.

“ah, this prank again! fucking teenagers!”

and the door slams shut. you both flinch.

“that guy has a fridge full of beer!”

you are vexed, voice muffled but still clearly loud. you harshly paw at his forearm to remove his hand, and your pout finally comes into view.

“no, you’ve had enough! seriously, what am i going to do with you? huh? you shouldn’t even be drinking at all.” he blows a loud breath, frustratedly running his fingers through his hair. “how did you even get in the club? fake id? you have it, don’t you?”

you rush to defend yourself. “i’m only younger by a year and i don’t look like it! as if they actually care in those places. they only want money.”

he begins to question if the bloodshot of your eyes is solely because of the alcohol or you’re also on the verge of tears.

“why? are you mad at me?”

“no, i’m not mad. should i be?”

“…i don’t know. why do you even care about things like that? you’re not my boyfriend or my parent so i don’t need to explain myself to you.” you angrily ramble, wriggling out of the tight spot he had you trapped in.

and that felt like a fucking dagger to the heart.

“you know what? i-i can do this. i can take care of myself, so go home.”

“____, don’t be like this, please. you’re drunk.”

“i’m not drunk, just tipsy! you can go home!”

he runs after you, but you shrug him off and continue walking away, perhaps a little too fast. he curses himself when he catches up to you seconds too late, witnessing you fall over to the floor with a thump and a whimper.

“are you okay?! where does it hurt?!”

you shake your head profusely, but your hands gripping your ankle gives away the answers. he doesn’t press you further. without another word, he hooks an arm under your knees and the other under your back, swooping you from the floor. he stands up straight, adjusts your position slightly, and walks the path you attempted to travel alone in your intoxicated state.

perhaps he is mad. he went and abandoned his rest time when you said that you needed him, only for you to rudely send him home. he has the right to be mad, even just a little bit, despite the fact that he isn’t your boyfriend, right?

not that it matters.

you cling to his neck and it all melts away.

he glances down at you. a soft smile has replaced your frown. “oh, so now you’re happy again?”

“yes,” you tilt your head. “feels like i’m floating.”

“where’s your key?”

“huh?”

“your key-”

“oh!”

you dig out the item from the pocket of your coat. you proudly dangle it infront of his face along with the colorful keychains attached to it; the bear was gifted by yours truly from japan. he totally forgot that it existed. the last time he saw it was when he tossed it in the paper bag he gave you.

he’s not even your boyfriend. the two of you know that doesn’t make sense anymore.

—

after he sets you down on the sofa, he kneels on the floor to remove the heels from your aching feet. he gets the hang of it after unfastening the second strap. while he’s preoccupied, you strip off your coat to combat the increased temperature of your body.

“i need to pee.” you urgently kick off the heels as you rise on your feet.

jungkook looks up and forgets how to breathe. you are irresistibly gorgeous; the cherry red mid-thigh dress you’ve been hiding from him hugs your body so perfectly. he’s ensnared and thoroughly convinced that you’re aware of your power to leave men and women alike sweating and tongue-tied.

goddammit, he is mad. you were at the club looking like this among flashing lights and grinding bodies and he is not your boyfriend.

“doesn’t your ankle hurt?”

“doesn’t matter. i need to pee.”

he clicks his tongue as you limp your way towards the bathroom.

“you’re so hardheaded.”

he lifts up your arm to bring it over his shoulders; he holds your waist to assist you.

“and your heart is so soft.” you giggle, and his world stops when you hold his face… peppering his cheek with an amount of kisses he doesn’t have half the mind to count.

you said you’re not drunk, just tipsy. does that mean you genuinely like him this much and you’ll remember it when you wake up?

dear god, he hopes so.

—

jungkook is supposed to wake up in four hours. however, he’s still wide awake sitting by your pillow, mind completely blank on what he’s supposed to do now that you’re safe and sound. he can’t bring himself to leave just yet. you bump against his knee as you shuffle and squirm, eyes closed but yet to land in the confines of slumber. he can hear your rugged and frustrated breathing, can’t help but to hopelessly adore how pretty you are even with knitted eyebrows and tousled hair.

he likes you so much. he knows it hasn’t been that long since you met but the thought of losing the chance of winning you over makes him want to cry and throw a tantrum. you’re running in his mind day and night. you have permeated all his senses. you charm him with your unapologetic existence and you effortlessly captivate his ungiven affections.

when it comes to love, his passion becomes a weakness.

a whine emits from your parted lips as if you sense that something is wrong. your hands pat around the mattress— searching and searching, until they stumble upon him. you push yourself up, head landing on the pillow, and your arms, they hug him close by his waist. only then do you finally come to a still, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

you are at peace and he is experiencing an emotional turmoil— falling in love. this is simply not fair.

the lines are becoming so blurry. he is losing control of his hands, hyperaware of what he is capable with his possession of them. he strokes your head gently, hair brushing across his palm— this is soothing to him as much as it is you.

this feels right, he thinks. he wants time to stretch from this galaxy to another.

he feels a weak tug at his sweater.

“i’m cold now,” your complaint comes out mumbled against the thick fabric.

next thing he knows you’re pulling him down by his collar, leaving him with no choice but to lie down beside you as to not crush you under his weight. where the hell did you gather the strength to do that?!

he hisses in panic. “yah! what are you doing?”

“i’m cold,” you repeat.

“____, we’re lying down on the blanket. if you can just scoot over for a seco- i’ll take it out. move-”

his attempts on communicating to you only fall on deaf ears. he zips his mouth to admit defeat.

you cling to him for warmth, and jungkook finds himself giving more than that. he volunteers his arm to be your pillow, softly cupping the back of your head as you nuzzle your face on his chest; his other arm wraps around your torso to keep you close. it is quite a tight fit on a single bed— he figures out a lame excuse for later.

now he can say for certain that you’re hearing his heartbeat, but he doesn’t seem to care anymore. he also doesn’t mind the scent of alcohol because it’s tragically losing the battle against your sweet perfume. it renders him enchanted. and the dress… that hypnotizing dress. he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to banish the sinful thoughts flooding his imagination.

he didn’t peg you to be the physically affectionate type, but seeing that you can’t sleep without hugging something, someone— he wants to be just the thing that you cherish as your safe haven. he wants this memory to be cute… and romantic. but too much heavy on the romance, you affect his body and heart in ways no one can.

he tries to will his growing erection to ebb away. it’s not an appropriate situation. he likes and respects you too much.

“my makeup…”

you said it so quietly, he almost believed he was making it up in his head.

“what was that?”

“will you- please, will you help me take off my makeup? it’s bothering me.” you make one final request at the depths of drowsiness, speech slurred and stuttered. “the wipes… the drawer behind you.”

he should’ve thought of that. he’s learning. next time, he will.

he settles into his previous position after grabbing the wipes.

“how do i help? is it okay if i d-”

he interrupts his question when he realizes that you’ve finally fallen asleep.

his sigh momentarily fills the defeaning silence of the night. the exhaustion has also begun to take a toll on him. he’s going to have to catch up on sleep during car rides and set breaks. he’s already dreading it as he’s planning around their hectic schedule.

as he wipes off your makeup as carefully as possible, he mutters into the thin air. “you owe me a massage for this.”

—

IV. HAPPINESS OUTSIDE DAYDREAMS

“you’re my boyfriend now and you don’t sleep on the floor anymore. how cute is that?” you happily think out loud, swinging your feet dangling at the edge of the bed. “but if you want to go back to our old ways… my bed is small even for me.”

“no way. are you kidding?!” he jokingly protests in an angry manner. “your bed is perfect.”

jungkook is on cloud nine. it sure does feel good to hear you sound so happy calling him your boyfriend, even more so to reap its special privileges.

“i keep forgetting to ask. which side do you prefer?”

you’re sat facing the door. “i don’t know, but i’m used to sleeping here.”

“alright. i’ll stay here.” he climbs under the covers, spreading his arms once his back hits the mattress. the smirk on his face widens. “come here, baby.”

a grunt slips past his lips when you jump into his arms without warning, eventually falling over to the side when he moves to envelope you in his embrace.

“you’re so warm.” you purr in contentment as you bury your face against his chest. “i love cuddling so much.”

“i’ve noticed,” he replies. he softly squeezes your exposed thigh after you slump your leg over his hip to maximize your comfort. “your pillow must be softer than me though.”

“no, i like you more… cuddling is proven to have health benefits, you know?”

he quirks an eyebrow. “oh really? give me examples.”

“it releases happy chemicals in the brain… it apparently also helps to lower blood pressure and heart rate, and it-” you fail to stifle a sleepy yawn, hands grasping the cloth of his shirt and forming closed fists. “…improves one’s quality of sleep.”

“i can see it’s working well for you.” he chuckles.

“is it for you?”

“mhmm, yes,” he presses his lips to your forehead. “i’m happy. there’s only happy chemicals in my brain right now.”

jungkook means it wholeheartedly and it feels strange. he doesn’t feel happy in this moment alone. this happiness is colossal and there’s not nearly enough hours in a day to take it all in. this happiness will still be here when he wakes up tomorrow, and the day after that. this happiness stays with him even when you’re not physically present. you’ve turned him into an optimistic fool but it’s not always that he experiences an attraction this strong.

he’s smitten and he can’t hide it. the people who are around him everyday sees it on his face; he doesn’t even need to say it out loud. all that corny shenanigans about romance giving you a certain type of glow is apparently true, it turns out.

“kissing is said to have the same effects, actually.”

your coyness captivates him from his thoughts.

he draws back slightly, the glint of mischief in his eyes mirroring yours. “where do you learn these things?”

“through reading and experience.” you shrug innocently. “want to test that out too?”

you’re everywhere. he can taste your lips, your tongue; your body wash floods his sense of smell with a sweet and clean scent, plus something else he can’t quite name. he can only it describe as you. your hair is tangled in his fingers and your hands… so delicate and teasing with every touch, it feels like being electrified. it still feels incredibly chilly outside but heat is radiating off his skin. he needs to peel himself off you before he loses his last shred of self-control.

“baby…” he whispers, lips only a couple inches from yours. he takes your hand in a tender hold, placing it over his racing heartbeat. “i’m not sure about this one being good for my health.”

“but it is. you just burnt some calories.” you smile, wiping the sweat that has started to form on his forehead. “should we stop?”

he feels his cheeks become more flushed, but his craving for you has overtaken his shyness. he might as well be drunk; intoxicated by you.

“no.” he refuses, conflicted and almost pained. “i can’t…”

he gets rid of the distance between your lips once more, swallowing the first obscene moan he brings out of you.

—

V. THE SPRING FLOWER IN THE EYE OF THE STORM

although you know they held affection for you, the boys you’ve attracted in your life have made one thing clear: they see you as an object of desire, and you unintentionally play the part well. if you were going to make their wet dreams come true, then you ought to derive pleasure from it as well without shame.

but with jungkook, the tables have turned. you wore the same lipstick from last time to rile him up on purpose, but instead you’re the one stuck trying to recall a time you were this putty in somebody’s hands. you’re not in control— you expect this thought would make you spiral, but it doesn’t.

you stumble inside your apartment making out with your boyfriend and you have an orange azalea tucked behind your ear. his hand is in your mess of a hair and it protects your head from the impact of the wall as your back collides with it. you don’t know if it was on purpose or not but your heart flutters nonetheless. this is sickeningly romantic and you want to drown yourself in it.

“oh, feels good.” his mouth on your neck is addictive, you imagine it would be heavenly on more vulnerable parts of you. your nails harshly dig into his shoulder as he takes his time with every lick, every nip of his teeth— eager to learn more about your body and what makes it weak at the knees.

you tug at his hair with a whisper. “jungkook…”

“mhm? yes, baby?”

you thought you’ve seen and felt enough. you know about lust, but never felt a chemistry this electrifying. there’s an emotion screaming beneath the daze in jungkook’s eyes; it’s always been there, but not this loud. you think if you trust your gut and open yourself up… you might just come to gain an understanding of it.

you bite your bottom lip, behind it a shadow of a smile. “bedroom.”

his restless hands slide down to hook around your thighs, and not long after, your legs are wrapped around his waist as he navigates your apartment blinded by the mutual refusal of your lips to disconnect. you giggle every time he bumps into something and groans. with his fear of accidentally letting you fall felt through his tight grip, you’re the one who kicks the bedroom shut. the sound couldn’t have been louder than the pounding of your heart reaching your own ears.

jungkook is gentle as he lays you down on the bed, but your lack of inhibitions reign over you. you begin unbuttoning his shirt, unconsciously grinding your heat against his thigh as you do so. it catches him by surprise, but then his strong hands find purchase on your waist, and you know he wants this as much as you do.

the kiss is broken up by a moan when his grip falls to your hips, guiding your wild movements in chasing pleasure with a tenderness and sensuality that transforms you into a feverish mess. another gush of arousal ruins your underwear worse. you kiss him again and eventually you lose count of the buttons— patience runs thin and with adrenaline rushing through your veins, you tear his shirt apart.

he hisses. “baby, shit- what did y-”

“shhh,” you place an index finger over his lips.

he chuckles raspily, shaking his head in disbelief. your giggles join him, equally amused with yourself.

it’s still for a few seconds, but you can hear each other breathe in the dark. you’ve seen him naked but his silhouette alone stirs the fuel spreading throughout your body. he’s perfect. your lips reclaim the place of your finger. your hands caress every inch of his skin, every curve of his flesh they can reach. he doesn’t make an effort to hold his noises and it turns you on more, if that is even possible at this point. his muscles continue to tense under your touches, even worse when you find his nipples to tease and play with. he’s perfect.

“it’s my turn.” he tries to say in the middle of the kiss, but you don’t hear a thing until he’s pulling away breathless and you’re whining in disappointment. “let me return the flavor please? i’ve been going crazy thinking about it. fuck, please.”

you sit up on the bed, pushing his naked chest challengingly. “what? you want to eat me out?“

he swallows, wide scandalized eyes failing to escape your keen observation. “i do.”

you watch him watch you strip off your sweater, “really…?” and then unclasp your bra, allowing its straps to provocatively slide down your shoulders.

“ye-yes, really.”

“then what’s stopping you?”

he whines out your name, interrupting himself with his craving for another kiss as he slips off your bra completely. it gets lost on the floor along with your sweater and you smirk deviously against his lips. “you’re testing me like this, huh? you’re so mean.”

you lie on your bed but you feel like you’re on top of the world. jungkook scatters kisses from your neck down to your chest, occasionally licking and biting as if he can’t help but to taste you. he uncovers another ticklish spot along your ribcage, but you bite your lip to control your giggles. instead, you touch his face to subtly guide him away from it.

he nuzzles his cheek against your palm, eyelids fluttering close as he presses a soft kiss to your wrist.

“may i?”

the shape of his lips lingers there. no one has ever kissed your wrist, nor have you ever imagined the first time to take place in bed.

your thumb strokes his cheek tenderly. the silence that follows there after concerns jungkook. he calls out your name, snapping you out of deep thought.

“may i?” he repeats himself.

he is patiently suspended over the waistband of your skirt. ever the gentleman, you half-smile.

“will you fuck me good after?”

the hand on his face sneaks down to pull up the skirt over your stomach; an even tinier piece of fabric covers the most intimate part of your body.

“whatever you want, baby, i will do it.” he promises.

you can hear the smirk in his voice, but you’re unable to form another response as his tongue laves over the lace, the warmth and wetness saturating through and stimulating your clit— once, slowly, and then over and over again.

you gasp, jolting and squirming in pleasure. he only makes it worse when he hums and you feel the vibration against you. you whine and he squeezes the soft flesh of your inner thighs in an attempt soothe you, keep you still, nuzzling his cheek as he meets your heated gaze.

“relax… is my baby always this sensitive?” he places a chaste kiss over your clit, causing your breath to hitch. “‘cause i’ve barely started.”

“jungkook,” you impatiently whine. “why’d you stop? just do it, please- need you.”

you’d wipe off that stupid smirk on his face if only you weren’t so pent up and you didn’t need his tongue.

“wow… didn’t think you’re the type to beg.” he muses, more so talking to himself. “i like it.”

hell no, you’re not.

but finally, he dives in, greedily pulling aside the flimsy material for a real taste of you. instead of a sharp remark, erotic sounds between a moan and a sob emit from your lips. your toes curl at the surge of mind-numbing ecstasy overwhelming your body. your hands fisting the sheets fly to his hair, frantically tugging like you can’t take it, but you beg and beg and beg him for more.

—

the last time you had sex was more than four months ago. you realized that you liked jungkook, and you simply didn’t want to do it with anybody else. sexual frustration combined with the romantic pining for a man that could potentially ruin your life; your youth has been nothing short of eventful.

has sex always been this good? you can’t remember. you’re drunk on pleasure even in the aftermath; you’re not sure if you’re really here or floating someplace else. as you catch your breath, jungkook soothes your body with gentle kisses and strokes of your skin, whispering sweet nothings. mostly babbling about how beautiful you are. and you feel it— feel beautiful, you mean.

you gradually open your eyes, vision adjusting to the divine view infront of you. jungkook is golden, skin still glistening with sweat under the warm glow of the lampshade. your heart skips a beat when he smiles at you.

“are you good? do you need anything? water?”

“again.”

his eyes widens. “again?“

“round two.” you giggle.

you push yourself up to reach his lips, but the kiss ends too soon for your liking.

“jungkook-” you complain.

“wait!”

you stare in bewilderment as he bends down from the edge of bed, appearing to be reaching for one of the objects discarded on the floor.

“what is it?”

“i found it!”

it’s the flower.

beaming with a hue of pure excitement, he tucks the azalea behind your ear for the second time tonight. pretty, he says it so quietly that you only understand through the movement of his lips.

he looks bewitched by you. in a different setting you’d be smug about it, but at this moment, you don’t understand. you can’t read what’s on his mind. if only you could see yourself through his eyes, even for just a moment, then maybe you’d understand why he’s dancing with fire and folding with his tower of cards.

it would be too silly and embarrassing to start crying now, right?

you swallow the lump in your throat, glassy eyes overshadowed by your boyfriend leaning in to plant a kiss on your forehead. as if that isn’t enough to entirely melt your heart, he intertwines his fingers with yours. your walls come crumbling down. in a haste to forbid your emotions from breaking free, you reach for him and slip your tongue in his mouth for a fervent kiss.

the burning tears that drip down to your temples are lost evidence you will bring to the grave.

—

“you’re not supposed to be awake.” jungkook complains as soon as he opens the door.

you only spare him a glance before returning to your task. instead of being under the sheets, you’re sat on the floor with his button-up shirt from last night laid across your lap. only several steps closer and he realizes that you’re sewing.

he exhales through his mouth in surprise, setting aside the tray of food on the bed before joining you on the floor.

“baby, what are you doing?! it’s fine. you don’t need to fix it.”

“i know, but i want to.” you reply, smiling, eyes still swollen from sleep focused on the needle and thread. “i stepped on one of the buttons so i looked for the two other.”

he’s dumbfounded watching you sew with so much care and precision. oh my god, he is in love with you. he thinks it so loud he gets terrified that he might’ve ended up speaking it out loud too.

“at least eat first!”

“wow, where did you buy ingredients so early?”

“early?” he scratches his head. “it’s lunch time.”

“what?!” your eyes grow twice their size. “jungkook, i’m late for work! what didn’t you wake me up?!”

“you- you we- you were tired!” he stutters defending himself.

he awkwardly catches his shirt when you throw it aside in a rush to get to the bathroom.

“baby, what about your food?!” he yells.

“wait, i forgot my towel-” you pop out from the doorframe, beaming at him breathlessly. “oh, please pack the food in my lunchbox!”

—

VI. SPEAKING TRUTHFULLY, YOU’RE THE ONE FOR ME

“i missed you.”

you giggle. “you look drunk.”

you hold jungkook’s cheeks in the palm of your hands, and he revels in the comforting warmth radiating from them.

he closes his eyes with a toothy grin. “i’m exhausted.”

“then go to sleep!”

“i don’t want to!”

he opens one eye, peeking at you.

“i came here so you won’t have to tire yourself out more going to my place.” you pout. “why do you hate resting?”

“this is me resting,” he says as a matter of fact, leaning down to give your lips a peck. “you are my rest.”

while it may be true that his body is begging for sleep, his mind is willing him to stay awake for as long as he can. he likes that he has nothing to prove here; he can simply be. you’re softly tracing his skin, forming constellations from the moles on his face, and he knows they’re created out of pure wonder and love.

“this one’s so cute!” you gush. “nobody talks about it enough.”

you place an affectionate kiss on the mole at the bridge of his nose.

“maybe because nobody has noticed it but you.”

you roll your eyes. “as if i’m the only one who spends their free time looking at your face.”

“but you’re the one who can view me in the highest quality.” he brings his face a little closer to tease you; noses almost brushing. “no one else can have me this close.”

“that’s right. or else you will never have me this close again.”

you squint your eyes at him as a threat; a frown making a permanent residence on your lips. fuck, when is he not thinking about kissing you?

“aigoo, look at you sulking!” he exclaims with a laugh.

“i’m not!”

“okay, whatever you say.” he replies in a sing-song voice.

it’s silent for a few beats as he engulfs you in his embrace. he feels like he’s being recharged, and with that comes along the overdue acknowledgement of his exhaustion. he meant it when he said that you are his rest.

“you know, i can’t help but to wonder sometimes.”

there is an undertone of hesitance in the way you spoke which is not typical of you. this prompts him to draw back a little, just enough to get a good look of your face.

“wonder about?”

“i’m not trying to put myself down or anything like that, by the way. i’m not expecting you to say the right thing or whatever either. i’m just-”

you pause, teeth nervously biting your lip. his heart aches in an instant when you avoid his eyes.

“i’m just genuinely curious? and saying what’s on my mind.”

“what is it?” he juts out his bottom lip. “you’re scaring me.”

“it’s not a big deal!”

“go on then. i’m listening.”

“i mean, i know i’m a catch, and- and i have a lot to offer, and i’m special in my own way. but you have a lot of…” you blink, trying to find the right term. “options.”

the word alone causes distaste to morph in his facial expression.

“okay, okay, i know! ugh, i don’t know how else to say it. but you have these beautiful and amazing people throwing themselves at you and sometimes i’m flabbergasted that you actively reject them for me.”

“baby, what are you even saying-”

“i’m serious. there are girls i would’ve totally gone for!”

“but they’re not you!”

he tilts your chin, smiling when at last, he recaptures your wide-eyed gaze.

“it’s really as simple as that.”

“but when we weren’t official yet-”

“i liked you from the start, if i didn’t make that obvious enough.”

you scrunch your cute nose; a smile of pure giddiness starting to form on your face. “you did… i knew.”

“i can’t believe you’re thinking about things like that. i only have eyes for you, baby. do you remember the first fight we had, huh? remember how i got drunk and cried?”

he doesn’t particularly like to relive the trauma and consequences of receiving unsolicited… almost naked… photos of an acquaintance while he’s watching a silly youtube video on his phone with his significant other. anything can be fixed in a relationship if both parties exert the effort, but trust, it is almost impossible to rebuild.

she didn’t know he was, is, in a relationship. in general, no one outside his inner circle really expects him to be in a relationship, or at least be in one that is serious or long-term. because, well, where would he find the time and energy for that kind of stuff?

but keeping you as a secret was his way of protecting you, and if you were hurting because of that, you didn’t show it.

oh, but that doesn’t mean you weren’t mad.

you needed some time to clear your head, you said. ignored his texts and phone calls; shooed him away when he begged at your front door. that issue may already been resolved, but he’s still not done proving that he’s solely committed to you.

you’re one of the most important people in his life. he loves you and he tends to get worried that you will never know much.

you gasp, hitting his chest. “when did that happen?!”

“why are you shocked…?” he narrows his eyes. “you didn’t know?”

“how would i know?”

he scratches his head in confusion. he should probably stop talking at this point and not dig his own grave, but his honesty leads him on. “…didn’t taehyungie-hyung send you a video? or did i make that up in my head?”

he immediately regrets it when the sparkle of mischief appears in your eyes.

“he’s still awake, right?”

“actually, he sleeps early nowadays!”

you wiggle out of his embrace, playfully sticking out your tongue at him. “i’ll go get the copy from him right now.”

“it was so long ago. it’s probably deleted by now!”

“wouldn’t hurt to check.”

“baby, no! it’s embarrassing!” he attempts to pull you back, but his hands barely reach you. “let’s just go to sleep, hm? didn’t you come here to put me to sleep?”

“aw, my love…”

he melts when you gingerly stroke his hair too. he will never live it down if his friends witnessed you babying him and him loving it.

“just close your eyes.”

and with your hand obstructing his vision, he sees pitch black and floating spots and flecks.

“i’ll be back in a minute! mwah!”

but despite his sense of sight being taken away, he still feels you spring off the mattress. the weight of your feet against the floor resonates along with the shout of your name as he follows you out of his bedroom.

you squeal in panic when you realize that you’re being chased. “go back to bed!”

“i won’t unless you go back with me!”

this is one of the instances in which jungkook is grateful for his gifts of athletic prowess and long limbs.

with little to no effort, he overtakes you in the race towards taehyung’s bedroom. doe eyes akin to a deer caught in the headlights, he swings the door open.

taehyung’s eyes flicker up from his phone. he’s frankly not surprised about the intrusion, not after hearing the commotion outside.

“need anything?”

“all the videos you have of him drunk!”

“hyung, no! you can’t give it!”

—

VII. THE CHOICE TO STAY

“give it to me.”

the blanket that jungkook carried from the bedroom is snatched away from his hands. it becomes unfurled and thrown over to shield your shivering vessel from the cold. without a word, he crawls on the couch and under the blanket, hugging you from behind as you catch up on your ongoing tv shows.

relief… he’s been looking forward to this all day.

the tension in his muscles, from head to toe, begin to fade away, especially as you take his hand in yours so you can give it a chaste kiss. it’s quick, but long enough for him to feel the softness of your lips. his hug tightens. he remains silent as he inhales, and exhales, slow and calm. he’s not trying to fall asleep as much as trying to shut down his brain. they say the world has stopped but from his point of view, it has erupted into chaos and he has no other choice but to watch it fall apart and to attempt to rebuild it at the same time. god knows he is doing the best he can but it feels like his best will never not be lacking.

jungkook is scared, and he is more scared knowing that everyone else is too. but for the past two years, whether you’re whole or broken, whether he’s climbing or falling— it never made a difference. you’ve always stayed.

he finds comfort in knowing that he has this constant among the ominous unknown.

his little firefly; your light won’t go out even as the world lets out its final sigh.

“my love, why are you sad?”

you flipped to your other side when another commercial break rolled in; now you’re hovering over him, curious eyes studying every inch of his face.

“is my love hurt anywhere?” you coo. “where should i kiss?”

his body shakes with quiet laughter as you pepper his face with kisses, trailing down to his jaw until you reach the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

“or do you want a massage? here? know you had a looong day.”

“really? how’d you know?”

“yeah, ‘cause you haven’t showered. you’re all stinky.”

“oh, am i?” he playfully pinches your waist, which you react to with a drawn out whine. “and yet you’re still cuddling with me.”

“so? do you need my massage therapy services or not?!”

“no. i only need my lover, please.” he pleads with droopy eyelids, emphasizing his request by tangling his limbs with yours.

he can’t hide from you like he hides from himself. you’re much more gentler with his heart than he is; unconciously, he trusts you more with it.

“you have me. what’s wrong?”

your hands anchored on the sofa are swept away as he pulls you closer, your weight crashing down on him entirely. he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your natural scent and the lavender in your body wash.

“eh, it’s just work… everything that could go wrong is going wrong. we’re trying to figure things out, but what can we do really…? there’s nothing. i- this-this whole thing is just so fucking frustrating, baby. i’m sorry.”

“it’s not just work! it’s your reason for living. of course this is frustrating and painful for you. it’s understandable to feel that way.”

he can practically hear you pouting. he is proven right when you lift your head, leaning in to give him a kiss. he smiles against your lips. he loves you so much.

“so please don’t burn yourself out trying to be okay. you have me by your side who can help you carry your burdens.”

it was scary at the beginning, but now it only feels right. it is impossible not to love you with all of his heart and soul; you deserve nothing less and more than what he can give. when you hug him, he hugs you back tighter.

“you’re my reason to live too.”

“i shouldn’t be. what if i die before you?”

“yah, don’t says things like that!” he scolds you faster than he can think, eyebrows knitted together and frown a tad deeper. “you won’t. it won’t happen.”

“i will die eventually.” you grimace.

“please don’t say such things as ‘i want you to move on and meet someone else and fall in love again and remarry.’ i don’t want to hear it!” he rambles so fast that he doesn’t even understand himself, stumbling and lisping. “i will seriously cry!”

“oh, i don’t care for things like that.”

you make yourself more comfortable; your boyfriend as your own personal bed. sleeping on top of him has been a natural occurence these days, not that he minds. you’re so soft and warm. it’s like hugging a stuffed toy to sleep. still, he’s mindful of you falling off the couch again.

“do whatever you like.” your eyes meet as you bestow him with a smile. “i’ll be dead; i won’t even know what happens next.”

“you don’t care? huh…” he huffs over the hypothetical.

the mere consideration of it feels like cheating. he knows that it technically isn’t, but he can’t imagine spending the rest of his life with someone who isn’t you. nevertheless, if he was being honest and it was the other way around, he’d probably do tell you to leave your heart open. but the topic is not the other way around and jungkook’s heart is stubbornly bound to you.

“why am i getting upset?”

“i don’t care because i’m confident.” you say candidly. “you can fall in love with someone else, but no one will ever love you the way that i do.”

ah, and here comes a side of you that he knows and loves. he swears that cupid is in the room and his heart was just hit by another one of his arrows. it feels so good to be loved so fearlessly.

“i know, so why even bother?” he arrives at a conclusion to his defense, but there’s a much better solution. “please never ever leave me so i won’t have to deal with this dilemma.”

he catches you roll your eyes before he comes face-to-face with the back of your head. your cheek rests on top of his chest; he feels it above his beating heart.

“what then? are we supposed to die together?”

he hums in thought. “it’s not a totally bad idea. we live together, so wouldn’t that make sense too?”

“wow, very shakespearean of you.”

“oh, that’s right! see? isn’t this your type of thing? let’s do it!”

“oh my god, you’re so stupid.” you hide your face behind your hand, giggling in disbelief of the sharp turn this conversation took.

jungkook loves making you laugh. for a little while, he forgets everything else. the world outside may be terrifying but you have your own in your shared apartment. you’re his reason to live too. you ignite the life in his veins. you kiss him with an appetite for passion and love and he enters heaven on earth.

“thank you.” you mumble against his lips.

“thank you?”

“for loving me, for living with me…” your voice wavers and his heart drops to his stomach. he can hold back his tears, but never when he sees yours flowing. “even when you’re tired and having a hard time.”

“you make it sound like a chore, but the truth is loving you gives me the strength to work hard everyday. you do know that, right? baby?” he strokes your hair tenderly, hoping that you receive his sincerity. “i should be the one thanking you… i should say it more often. you didn’t give up on loving me even when it was hurting you.”

“it’s all in the past… you were hurting too.” you reply in a faint whisper. “i love you.”

cupid must owe him a tremendous favor to have granted him the purest form of love a human being could have.

he plants a kiss on your forehead, noticing the rise of your shoulders. an endearing thing they occasionally do when you’re happy, shy, or flattered. it’s one of the many things he learned about you since you started living under the same roof.

he’s been learning about himself too. he tried saving you from himself but this fact is now well-established— you are the sun; it only hurts him to push you away because you’re in everything. it’s the little things that will haunt him if lost. when pieced together, they declare that you love him and he loves you.

the words i’m going home have gained more meaning and he’s excited to say them at the end of each day. he talks about his day and you talk about yours. you find out he’s the reason your lotion ran out too fast again and you chase him around the apartment until he promises to buy you the biggest bottle. you play rock-paper-scissors to figure out who will wash the dishes or receive the food from the delivery guy. you watch too many cooking videos on his phone until one of you falls asleep. most of the time it’s you. tonight, it’s still you.

he must confess that up to this day, he admires you when you sleep. you are safe and sound, and he is mended in places he did not know existed.

it’s time to sleep, he also decides.

he cocoons you in the blanket, then provides another layer of warmth which is his body. once settled, he closes his eyes, sighing in contentment. “what’s the use of our giant bed if we keep on sleeping on the couch?”

—

(?). AN ETERNAL RECORD: MY TREASURE, MY LOVE (ARCHIVED)

[DEC 25 ‘17 02:12AM]

“is it rolling?”

“yes, it’s rolling.”

you excitedly look at the film camera from the thick pile of snow on the ground, moving your arms up and down and your legs from side to side. an attempt to create a snow angel.

your giggles and the crackles of the snow are heard through the speaker.

the lens zoom in on your face.

childlike joy in the form of an everlasting smile and snowflakes on your hair.

“am i doing it?!”

“you are!”

“really?”

“really!”

“is it pretty?”

your face comes out of the frame. for a second only the white snow is seen, and then the dark brown of your coat as you skip towards the camera.

“let me watch!”

the camera shakes before it pans to the ground.

rustling of clothes and a shy, panicked voice.

“hold on- i-i’ll just fix the…”

“why?”

“huh, what do i do?” a forced laugh to mask nervousness. “i think it didn’t save-”

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook drabble #jungkook one shot #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook au #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #bts fluff #bts reaction

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hazelfoureyes · 3 months

Text

The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice (part 3)

I deadass wrote part one as a one shot. Is this what peer pressure is? I love it.

It would have been easy to forget you, your soul was his anyways so the real fun had already finished. But that pesky video hit most streamed in 24 hours, he couldn’t even walk to the butcher without hearing you scream his name from errant phones. Surely there was a way, even from hell, to finish what he started and get you out of his system.

⟢ part1♡̶sidestory♡̶part2♡̶part3♡̶part4 ⟣

tags/warnings/promises: Alastor x reader, smut, soft Alastor, unprotected sex (duh?), creampie, edging a little, feelings, Valentino exists, Vox also exists, literally wrote this split screen with part 2 on the right side so I could line it up right like he does hehe, Alastor has a bad time

tag requested: @astraechos , @thekanrojimitsuri2 , @hoeforalbedo , @crazylazybabyk , @oddball08 , @lovingyeet , @just-trash-yeah-thats-it , @random-3455 , @alicehasdrowned , @des-deswain5621 , @coffee-colored-hopeless-romantic , @doctorswife221b

When Val released, ‘The Radio Demon fucks a Human Sacrifice’, it immediately went viral. The website crashed, downloads surpassed his wildest, horniest dreams.

It’s scary but also hot? ☆☆☆☆☆

Eat me Mr. Radio Demon!

I’ve never wanted to be a pussy so much in my life.

The reviews were all favorable, the comments rolling in, it was perfect.

Until Vox said it wasn’t. He had seen the video, but figured no one would care about seeing Alastor fuck anything. It wasn’t the success that got under his skin, it was the wave of positive attention it brought Alastor. Suddenly everyone was tuning in to his broadcasts, little miss princess’s hotel was busier than ever.

And it was ubiquitous. Every screen seemed to feature Alastor’s breakout role.

“I said pull it, Val!” Vox slammed his hands on Valentino’s coffee table.

“Vox, baby, you’re being really sensitive about this. I’m literally fucking piles of money right now. Actual piles of money, like, person sized piles.” Val took a drag of his cigarette, “Its good for business.”

“Would you rather fuck money, or me?” Vox’s screen glitched.

Val leaned his elbows on his knees, “That’s a really difficult question for me and I think you know that.”

“Augh! Val! Think of the big picture! That obsolete dickhead gaining attention means gaining power. And that’s bad for business.”

Val’s eyes fluttered, “What if we like, say it wasn’t him?”

Flashes of Alastor’s face fazed in and out of focus across Vox’s screen, your body flipping over, a mess of tentacles writhing.

Val took off his glasses, “Oh yeah, that’s pretty obviously him.”

“What is?” Vox’s face splintered back to the screen.

“Do you—- do you not know you’ve been like,” Val used his cigarette to gesture at Vox’s face, “just straight up playing his porno?”

Vox’s hands flew to his screen, “No! Fucking shit! What the fuck!!” He picked up a vase and threw it across the room, “Wipe it clean off the server! Delete it! Ban it’s fucking streaming! End of discussion!”

Val shrugged, he owned every bootleg distributor in the pride ring. He’d pull it and up the price threefold for illegal downloads. “Whatever you want, amorcito.”

Alastor was quite happy the video went ‘underground’ of sorts. The first month after you left, he was plagued by the sound of your voice. Everywhere he went it seemed you were screaming his name, every phone and television a conduit for you.

What really bothered him though, was the reaction others had to him. Where once sinners leapt from his path and set theirselves on fire to avoid him, now people winked and waved. It made his skin crawl. When alive, at the peak of his radio show fame, it wasn’t uncommon to have fans approach him in jazz clubs. But the decorum of 1930's jazz fans was a far cry from the brazen displays of desire from the citizens of hell.

“Perhaps I should have thought it through?” He mused.

“Ya think?” Rosie put her tea down, “Was it worth it, at least?”

He mulled the question over. Worth it? Well, he had your soul. Which is grand. But you weren’t even in hell to be called upon. What did he really get from the deal? Alastor brought his palm to his face, already feeling the blush spreading. Rosie's chuckle didn't help. He did get something. You'd been gone a month, and each day he woke up having forgot you existed. And every night he lied down to rest and imagined your eyes staring back at him. Did he want to fight you, or surrender, when he saw that look? When the silk tie had fallen from your face, slipping down your nose to reveal your intense stare...He thought his heart had stopped. For every ounce of resilience in your voice he found a pound of fury in your gaze. What poor luck Valentino had been given to receive you as an offering.

"Too soon to tell." He leaned back, finally dropping his hand.

“Well it seemed you had a good time… not that I could see much through the green glow and all that static noise. Really spoiled the climax with that move, Alastor dear."

Alastor’s eyes were saucers, “Rosie. Are you implying-,”

“What?” She drew out the word, “I thought you weren’t into those things so of course I was curious!”

He sighed, “I’m not.”

Rosie pushed the teaspoon around her cup with one finger, “Sure looked like you were.”

He crossed his arms, indignant, “You don’t have to have an appetite to enjoy a meal.”

“Message received loud and clear dear! I won’t bring up the subject again.” She cackled and changed the topic to the latest gossip around the colony.

Another night staring at the ceiling, mind ghosting over the idea of you. He felt like he his sanity was unraveling Leaving his bed, he stepped barefoot onto the grass of the swampy forest he materialized into his room when he moved in to the hotel.

With an outstretched hand, Alastor felt for your connection. He couldn’t see it, but the weight of the chain connecting your soul to him sunk into his palm. Curious, he wrapped his fingers around the invisible links and pulled.

With a soft green glow, you rose from the grass.

His breath hitched, he hadn’t expected that. “It seems our deal really did stick, didn't it?" walking towards you, Alastor dropped to his knees at your feet. You were on your side, unmoving.

His head cocked to the left, ears turned in. Alastor crawled toward you, rolling you onto your back and opening your legs. He slotted himself there, “Hellooo,” He took your face in his both of his hands, elbows resting beside your ears, “Are you… sleeping, dear?”

This is ridiculous.

Alastor inspected your face; peaceful. It was a new sight for him, he'd really only ever seen you in some kind of rage or lost in pleasure. His hand slid down your body, realizing you were in the robe still. He laughed, but realized it was for no one. "Are you really going to sleep, hmm?" He hooked his hands under your knee and brought it up around his hip.

Nothing.

"I'm starting to get offended, dear." He leaned down and whispered into the crook of your neck. "If you don't wake up-" He slid down, the robe open enough to let his breathe ghost over your stomach. He stopped. He couldn't do anything to you while you slept. It was void of any enjoyment for him. Without your reactions, it was just....pointless. While he did enjoy your performance in the studio, he was taught to show respect for those of fairer means. A sleeping partner fell into that category.

He reached beneath you and straightened your robe that had bunched there under your body. Placing your leg back down by your ankle, he began pulling the collar up and closed it snuggly.

He stood there for a second, looking over you. It worked. You're here again. His mother had taught him that the human soul was most vulnerable at night. When asleep, the soul could wander from the body and travel earth and beyond. She even said people could train themselves, and with practice, remember their journeys even after waking.

Kneeling down, Alastor pushed your hair from your face, "Don't forget. What fun is there in that?" The shadow beneath your body shimmered neon green before you were swallowed by inky darkness and Alastor was once again, alone.

After his mother died, Alastor was often alone. Most of his time, really. Well, there were people always around. But they were staff, or hangers-on, or women looking for a comfortable life. They were dancers and bootleggers and musicians. Which was fine and grand. But, they never saw him. He never let them, they never tried. He was the radio host. The great dancer. The southern gentleman. The killer. The cannibal. The deer in the woods. Not a single person ever looked at him on earth and saw him. Which was precisely what he wanted, and manufactured with his wide smile and good manners.

So when your eyes bore into him from that tacky studio set, and he felt suddenly naked in front of you, he knew you were looking at the him. You saw him.

It was worth it. Alastor was willing to admit that to himself.

Over the next couple days, he would randomly try to pull you to him. Through out the day, in different places, he would summon your soul and wait. Nothing. It confirmed his theory, your soul was only able to leave your living body while you were asleep.

In the privacy of his room, Alastor paced the space between grass and carpet. What was this feeling? Nerves? He hadn't felt nervous since he was a child.

But, what was causing him a pause, was if he summoned you and you didn't appear. Maybe it had been a fluke? Maybe for the 7th time in 3 days he would pull on that connection and be left standing there, alone.

Still.

He ran his hands through his hair, trying to regain composure. Finally, he reached out for your ties to him, and pulled you into hell.

He held his breath, unconsciously.

With a glow, you appeared again before him. He was quick this time to approach you, setting beside you and leaning close to your face. Asleep.

"Is this my foreseeable future?" He asked, "Staring at you while you sleep, my doe."

Suddenly, you opened your eyes and met his. Reaching up, you grabbed him with both hands and pulled his face into yours. Your hands ran through his hair as you took him in a frenzied kiss. Alastor froze for a beat, but when your tongue licked at his bottom lip, he was brought back to the moment. He pushed his tongue into your mouth, rolling over yours and reaching as deep as he could. He felt like he could unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole. He really could, if he wanted to.

Alastor swung his leg over your body and straddled your hips. "Mon cher, you've finally joined me." His chest was rising and falling with excited breath.

"Alastor?" You tried to feel your body, but it was nowhere near you.

"Don't worry your pretty little head. You're still alive and well. I've merely borrowed your soul for the evening." He looked down at you, and finally, for the first time in what felt like months, your eyes fell to his face.

But today, they were soft and out of focus.

"Can you see me, my dear?" He leaned down slightly, trying to read the look on your face.

"Am I dreaming?"

He chuckled, "Perhaps we both are." With an exhale he wondered if he had been holding his breath this entire time. "No, this isn't a dream."

"I don't understand...but--," You lifted your arms towards him, "Should I say thank you? It was fucked, what happened." Your voice was slow, words a little slurred, "But, I'm home safe and sound now. You did what you promised me. I don't know if I'll ever see you again so...should I thank you now?"

Your tongue felt fat in your mouth, heavy and delayed.

Alastor leaned down over you, "You don't have to say anything." He used his knees to open your legs, and settled there. "Unfortunately, you've become a little worm in my mind." His hands slid under the silk robe you hadn't stopped wearing yet, "I'm hoping if I finally have you, I can...whet my appetite, and return to my normal self." He felt along your hips, hands stopping when he realized you were naked under the thin piece of fabric.

"I keep remembering," you covered your eyes with your hands, "that big hand of yours. And I realize, you never touched me past that."

He smiled, genuinely, truly, "Exactly! You understand the problem precisely. Shall we both have our fill and be done with it?"

You moved your hands to touch his ears, waiting for him to disappear at any moment, "Please. I'm so tired of missing someone I don't even know." He removed your hands, and you held them to your chest.

"My thoughts exactly, mon cher." He adjusted his hips, letting his crotch rub against your core. This was the closest he had been to you since you'd met. It was dizzying, and it felt like his skin was vibrating everywhere it met yours.

A soft moan left your throat, causing his cock to twitch in his pants. Yes, it was you. This wasn’t his standard response to such sounds. Alastor sat up, his legs bent and knees at either side of your hips. Taking one of your hands from your chest, he placed a kiss on a digit. Then another. He kissed his way down your arm.

“So gentle. Weird.” You tried to focus on him, but your mind was still cloudy. The sensations were here but also so far away, too far away, in another lifetime all together.

“Was I not gentle before, all things considered?,” he continued his way down your arm.

You let your eyes drift to the sky, stars watching you from above, “More than him.”

His mouth went dry at the mention of Val, "I am many things more than him, darling." As his lips found your neck, he took a deep breath. "I can actually take my time now. No audience." He sucked a bruise, and released you with a pop. He presented two fingers to your lips, and without thinking about it you began to suck them. While you were slipping your tongue over and between his fingers, he moved to continue a trail of kisses and nips down your right arm.

"Get them nice and wet." He watched through half lidded eyes as you licked his long fingers. He knew he needed to remove his hips from yours, but the idea pained him. Finally, he took his fingers from you and swiped them over your entrance. Your chest jumped, so he did it again. He tried to push the fingers into you, but the resistance was more than he expected. You were wet, but tight. He let his middle finger slip inside you. So soft. So warm. His shadow tendrils allowed him some feeling but not this, this was something they kept to themselves.

"When was your last time, mon cher?"

Your mind searched for memories still left behind in your body somewhere, "In hell."

"You're in hell now."

"This doesn't feel like hell." You ground your hips onto his palm, trying to get that single digit slowly moving in you to come deeper, to become more. He replied by pushing in his pointer finger, erection becoming painful already as you let out a little moan. Bending them up, he began to make long thrusts past your g-spot. His mouth long stilled on your arm, staring at your face as you whimpered into the sky.

"Look at me."

Your eyes darted to him, half open and wet. Alastor felt his patience snap. Undoing his belt and zipper, he finally freed his cock. He ran his head between your entrance to your clit , gathering your fluids on him to ease his entry. Taking both of your legs, he held them at the ankles and set them on his left shoulder. With your hips slightly raised, he pressed into you.

With a hiss you dug your fingers into the dirt, body tensing instinctively. One of his arms hugged your legs to his chest, the other was now bruising your hips as he continued to push into you. With just his head in, he began fast and shallow thrusts. Every time making more progress into your warmth. The stretch burned, but the feeling of him forcing space into you for himself just made you wetter.

Finally, he bottomed out. He had no sense to still himself, shallow thrusts gave way to long, deep plunges. Alastor's breathing was filling the space around you, mixing with your own. Leaning back, he looked down at where you two were connected.

He withdrew slowly, nearly entirely, and pushed back in. Again. And again. It was intoxicating, how he felt himself melt into you. He'd had lovers in life, but never had he been with someone without a barrier of some sorts. Be that his well placed smile or latex. He'd never fucked anyone raw before. He almost regretted not trying earlier, as the sensation of your walls and arousal sticking to his cock and thighs was breaking him. Watching himself entirely disappear inside you, he closed his eyes. Everything was so hot, so tight, would he disappear entirely? Would he lost in the pleasure your body was so effortlessly giving? Was he the unlucky one?

Alastor pushed your knees up to your chest, using his body weight to hold them down as his paced picked up. You brought your dirtied nails to your own legs, holding on tightly. Desperately you needed something to tether you to the ground, keep you still against the twitches shaking your stomach and chest. You felt with any jolt to your nerves you'd fall off the world and drift into the night.

He felt the build up, his balls tightening and drawing in, he wanted to slow down-- he wanted to bring you there first but he couldn't stop the rutting of his hips. With a whine, Alastor's forehead came to rest on yours, hips smacking into you with a wet slap. "Look at me," He commanded again, and you obeyed. One of his hands came to your chin to hold your head still, "Don't you dare look away."

Struggling to keep your eyes open, he pushed into you with one final, deep thrust. His hands came down now to the ground around you as he pushed you into the grass. Hips stuttering, cock twitching in you. You'd never let anyone cum inside you before, the sensation of heat quickly filling your cunt made you tighten around him. "Good girl", He purred, jaw tight.

He pulled back slowly before bringing his hips down, sweat sticking to his forehead where it met yours. His pace was quickly becoming brutal, a hand finding its way to that little bud of nerves of yours. With rough pressure and hurried speed his thumb drew out your orgasm. When you came, you gasped out his name, craning your neck up to ghost your lips over his open mouth. As the pleasure surged from your center, you could feel your body again. He tried to keep his eyes on your eyes, but the overstimulation of your cunt trying to wring him dry forced him to shut them.

A light shone through his eyelids, startling them open again.

"Wait-!" He watched you get pulled away from beneath him. Before he could react, Alastor was on all fours in the forest, alone. Eyes wide, he pounded his fist against the grass. He tried to summon you back to him, to drag you to him but nothing happened.

He thought he'd gone crazy. Hands came to his head, smile pained as he tried to process what he was feeling.

No.

Not enough.

Too soon.

A growl ripped through his chest. This hadn't satiated him at all. No, he was worse off now. He was starved, he had nourishment ripped from his mouth and he as angry for it. Angry to hell, to Valentino, to the conditions of owning a living soul.

He did not even attempt to rest that night. Taking his time, he had to find composure again. Alastor managed to pull himself together after several hours of self isolation. After his heart stopped racing, after his hands stopped feeling phantom skin beneath them, he calmed his smile and went about his day.

When night returned, he couldn't help but stare into the forest domain. He wanted so badly to bring you to himself, but that want was terrifying. It was overpowering him, and he couldn't accept that.

Another night left, another day passed. Husk found Alastor's cruelty to be growing, his patience giving out at the smallest perceived slight. Angel stopped engaging entirely. Charlie found herself wanting to approach him, find out why it seemed his hair was always standing on end, his eyes sharp. But, she didn't. She couldn't. Alastor would pass through the halls like a raging specter. He wouldn't slow or acknowledge anyone.

He managed a week. Satisfied with his resolve, he waited for when night fell and he was sure you'd be deep asleep, yanked your soul from your body and into him. He felt rabid, like he his brain was catching fire. Finally when you materialized before him, he grabbed your face with his hand.

"My doe?"

Just like before, you stirred, and your hands immediately went for his hair. He pulled back, "Are you awake?"

"Am I dreaming? Alastor?" You looked drunk, mind struggling to process the change in scenery. Your arms wrapped around his neck as he hovered above you, and you pulled him into a kiss. He happily returned it, hands quick to untie the robe you had taken as your own. He wasted now time in getting himself unsheathed and lined up with you, before he could enter you reached out to him, "I wanted to say--- thank you. I don't know if I'll ever really see you again."

The realization made his blood run cold. His mother's stories flooded back to him. It takes training, and time, to remember the travels of the wandering soul.

"You don't have to say anything." Alastor thrust into you, your body tense but not as resistant as before. When he was finally enveloped in you, he could feel himself calm. He didn't feel any need to be gentle this time around. He immediately set a bruising pace, digging his nails into the soft flesh of your ass as he forced your hips to meet his with every thrust. You gasped beneath him, eyes wandering up to the sky just past his head. He'd bring you to climax, wanting to drink in your expression, and to his horror as you choked out his name you were spirited away from him again.

Everyone on the floor heard Alastor's rampage. When Angel ran to get Charlie and Vaggie, they were scared to knock. With a steadying breath Charlie rapped the door, "Al? You okay in there?"

Suddenly, silence.

The door whipped open, Alastor smiling with half lidded eyes, "Why of course. What ever made you think otherwise?"

"The fuckin' sounds of carnage, maybe?" Angel looked past Alastor. The sofa shredded, coffee table in pieces. The wallpaper had been ripped down and torn to shreds. Charlie noticed the dirt under his nails, but Alastor coolly pulled his hands behind his back.

"Can I do something for you?" His tone was cold.

"I guess not, Al...," Charlie took in the damage, "Did something happen?"

Alastor smiled wider, "No," and closed the door. No one saw him the following day, which wasn't entirely unusual but it was weighing on Charlie. When Alastor finally appeared and announced he was going to Cannibal Town, she was elated. A chat with Rosie would surely bring him back to himself.

"I don't see the problem. You've got her soul, you can summon her to you, and you get a little," She searched for the word, "relief. Why do you look so pained, old friend?"

"You know better than most I have no interest in chasing women, Rosie."

"Yet..." She cocked her brow.

"It isn't about the release. I don't particularly need that. I never have." He huffed, the conversation already exhausting him, "When I would kill someone, I was God. Their life was in my hands. I took that power from them."

Rosie clicked her tongue, "And when she's in your hands?" Alastor hunched over his black coffee before remembering himself and straightening his back. "I've never seen you like this before, hun. You've got it bad, huh?"

"Personal connections like this, Rosie, are dangerous. I lost my self restraint entirely. It's a weakness." He fought to regain his smile, never knowing who could be passing by.

She tutted him, "Oh no, that's where you're wrong. The difference between a strong man and an unstoppable man is having something to care about." Rosie leaned over and set her hand on top of his, "Imagine you walked into Val's studio right now and found her like you did a couple months ago. How would you react?"

His stomach wretched forward, if he saw you today, hanging from the ceiling? The stench of Valentino's cigarette smoke clinging to your hair, the marks where his hands had made contact with you? His hand under her's tightened, claws leaving marks into the wooden tabletop. "Do you feel weak right now, Alastor?" The hair on his ears was standing straight up, his now black eyes met hers, "You sure don't look it."

He’d remembered hearing something similar before from Vaggie. Could it be true? It was a precarious ladder. If he let himself be close to someone, then the person is in turn close to him, then that person knows him intimately, and then— they are a walking soft spot. Someone could take them and torture them for information. Or, hurt them to hurt him.

But, who would dare? A fire rose in chest at the thought. What was the point of power if he couldn’t have what he wanted? If he had to answer to others about his desires? To pursue strength and status was what he wanted but if that strength didn’t afford him freedom than what good was it, really?

"I say, not that you asked," Rosie smiled and withdrew her hand, "Could be nice to have a little company now and then. Plus, better than waiting 60 years or something for her to just die." She shrugged, "Now, eat. You look like a shit."

Rosie had a point, while your existence was fragile, it was still available to him.

For awhile, he would call you nightly. Alastor would fuck you into the grass, beneath the trees, under the stars. He learned your orgasm would wake you, and he would draw it out as long as he could. He'd edge you for hours, watching you sob for your release. Slowly, your consciousness became more and more solid during your meetings.

To his relief, his hunger for your presence calmed over time. He could handle a week or even two without sharing your company, and he noticed each time you seemed to recognize him more. You'd participate more, moan louder, scream his name and squirm from the pleasure. He relished trapping you underneath his wide shoulders, pulling you onto his lap as he fucked up into you.

He wasn't fond of the few times he summoned you and you were already wet, or smelling of cologne. He'd tease, "Lonely?" and when he'd fuck his back cum into you before helping you chase your own orgasm, he'd remind you, "You're mine, little doe. No one can replace me." And he'd feel his chest swell. Others had your body for the night, but your soul was his forever. With every meeting, he felt more like himself. And the nights you were screaming his name in the forest, and his horns were looming over you as he marked you over and over as his, he felt powerful.

Some nights, he'd call you to him to just let you rest. He'd enjoy a book, or some jazz over a meal, while you lied quietly in his bed.

The days he pulled you into hell and your hair smelled of the trees, of sweat and dirt, he would be gentler. He could feel the ache in your muscles, the tan on your cheeks, and sent you back.

One such night came, where he of course took your chains in his hand and tugged. But this time, when you arrived, your face was painted with anger. You were asleep still, and even when he whispered to you, you didn't wake. You were having a nightmare, from what he could tell. He took you to his bed, and let you settle.

You stayed there until waking up again in your bed.

And every night that week, he'd bring you to his bed and go about his tasks while you fought some demons in your head. He'd never seen you have a nightmare, and began to wonder if something was happening in the overworld.

Alastor was enjoying a deer carcass in his room, humming softly to himself, when a green light erupted on the floor.

He was well aware it wasn't night anymore, and that he hadn't brought you here. With a soft smile, he left his meal and approached the light. Slowly, your body rose from the darkness there. Not just your soul.

When you looked up at him, a smile on your lips and two small doe ears on your head, he grinned, "Did you miss me terribly, my little doe?" He offered you a hand up, "Welcome home.”

༻Masterlist༺

3K notes · View notes

satoruhour · 7 months

Note

Gojo would make such pretty noises if he gets a BJ as he’s waking up

a/n: anon u r so real for this !!!!!!!!! i conquered my 2k essay! but also doin a shorter req bc i got distracted by changing themes and it’s late lol / @jabamin @hannzai @shotorus

warnings: fem!reader, consensual somnophilia, sort of subby gojo but not very established, pet names, oral (m! receiving), finger / thumb sucking, deepthroating, multiple rounds, spitting, sloppy bj sort of, this is what i think he would sound like hehe, n*sfw under the cut

gojo’s always known he’s the most sensitive in the morning. before you, he’s settled for his hand, feeling around his centre when he wakes up hard and slips his hand under his boxers where it pumps slowly at his shaft. the orgasm always comes too fast and unsatisfactory, though, done more out of necessity than pleasure.

but you? he finds that he never wants to go back to his hand ever again. you treat him like everything good in the world, both with your soft demeanour and your pretty cunt, all for him and yet not at the same time. you’re so pliant and receptive to his touches and still, you have your own agency; you are your own person. that’s what he admires about you.

you infiltrate his dreams like a temptress, heat forming between his legs as he cuddles closer into what he thinks is your figure. there’s fire all over his body and his hairs stand and the trails the blaze leaves seem like fingers. they span his body, heart rate speeding up and he wishes he hadn’t buried his body in the sheets last night. they want to move, but satoru is locked down by sleep and your wandering hands.

“’toru . .” gojo moans at the soft voice that whispers his name in his dreams, unaware you’re doing the exact thing. you’re already drooling at the half-hard bulge that pokes out from below his underwear, clinging to his skin and darkening in colour with each trail of your finger along his body.

so sensitive . .

here, gojo looks as splendid as the morning tokyo sun even if the weather outside struggled to stay stable. the clouds soon hover over the city, pouring down light raindrops and the drop in temperature only makes your boyfriend whine again.

you poke a manicured nail to his length that twitches on its own, pressing and prodding with it and enjoy the soft sounds that escape his lips each time. “baby”, ”princess”, it’s a different name each time for satoru always enjoys referring to you with pet names, and the low raspiness of it only pushes your resolve further—

“it’s okay, sweets, you know you have access to my body. i trust you.”

even with your boyfriend’s authority, you’re still unsure shown in the way your hands hesitantly pull at his underwear. you’re snapped out of your dilemma when a drawled whimper leaves him, whiny and high-pitched in nature that it sends chills down your whole body. there are murmurs of your name on his lips, lingering like the sugary sweets and the saccharine of your kisses. the cold air is simply too much for his sensitive cock, and gojo’s hips buck in cute little jerks.

his length and girth always takes you by surprise no matter how many times you see it, but it feels just a little different when you’re the one to fish it out yourself. satoru is just so hard, pink mushroom tip leaking pre-cum all over his pelvis and a curve to his dick in wanton need.

you let out a breath when your soft hands wrap around his length, at the same gojo sucks in a breath in his sleep — if that was even possible — and tenses his thighs. in his dream you’re doing more than whatever you were doing right now, imagining your pussy wrapped around his throbbing cock.

but you like it slow. your hands drag themselves across his shaft, stroking slowly just to allow him to fully harden and gojo starts to kick his legs slightly, hands have begun to clutch uncomfortably at the sheets. your head lowers to his tip, blowing lightly at the sensitive area and it almost gets him waking completely from unconsciousness. wrecked moans and whines continue to weasel themselves out of his throat, brows knitted and mouth in a temporary ‘o’.

“satoru,” you call, with no intent behind it rather than just wanted to feel the syllables roll against your tongue, “satoruuu . .”

but the mission last night takes a good amount of toll on him. you stick out your tongue to kitten lick his weeping tip and your lover jolts in your hands yet again. it’s so adorable, seeing the normally confident man plead, and he wasn’t even conscious.

“y—yess . .?” you’re unsure if he’s sleep-talking or if he’s really awake but you press on. your mouth suckles on the tip like a pacifier, teasing the most sensitive part of his cock. there, you swirl your tongue around, hands still pumping lazily. gojo’s voice cracks on the next moan, reality sinking in on him bit by bit. you’re relentless, tonguing your muscle along frenulum and around.

and then when you look up, you can see a pair of drowsy eyelids open, looking with his blue eyes through the whiteness of his lashes. it feels like he wasn’t of this world, the initial confusion morphing into recognition and then pleasure —

“ohh . . f-fuuuckk . . ” gojo’s voice shakes as you then descend upon his shaft, warm mouth encompassing every inch of his cock until your nose buries itself in his pubes. the loud moan satoru lets out only makes your eyes roll to the back of your head, sure that your hips were grinding into the sheets. “a-always take my cock so well, shit.”

he’s normally reduced to a state of non-verbality in the morning, but he seems to still have some adrenaline from last night’s mission. gojo’s head meets with the pillow below him, stuck between enjoying how fucking hot your mouth feels versus watching you take all of him down your throat.

you start to bob your head, the gurgling noises along his throbbing length only adding to the lewdness of the scene. he lovingly trails his hand through your locks, brushing back stray hair that interferes with you. they continue to do that (his love knows no ends), undoing the knots in your hair while you uncoil the familiar feeling in his tummy. “baby, baby, baby—”gojo’s eyes squeezes shut and his chest heaves needily with lined sweat, neck straining just to catch a glimpse of how you deep-throat him. your fingers grasp onto his thighs so harshly that they would probably bruise.

you’re keeping eye contact as you come up to breathe while gojo’s hand who took refuge in your hair switches its sanctuary to your face. his heart and dick jumps when you lean into the touch, both your hooded lids matching each other before his thumb runs over your bottom lip. in the rainy morning, you can exchange words without saying anything; you just know satoru that well.

gojo’s thumb traces the softness of your lips before he dips it inside and you take the finger into your mouth willingly, sucking intently as you make the strongest weaker and weaker by you, alone. all he does is spiral, moans transforming into little whines at how you suck on his thumb and it’s off — because then after your mouth closes in around his cock again and he swears so loud it probably reaches the neighbours.

“mmfuuuck—! o-oh my god—” your head bobs again, tongue running along the underside of his cock each time you do, hands moving along the places where you can’t reach and the moans that fill your ears only gets needier and needier. “princess i’m gonna— pleaseplease—!”

gojo has that split second to prop himself up just so he can see you take his cum down your throat, a hand holding your head in place alongise a makeshift ponytail. but your mouth mimics your pussy so well, wrapped snugly around him that he has no time to warn you before he’s cumming deep into your mouth. you jerk in surprise before moaning at the feeling, letting him spurt ropes of cum down your throat as your pace slows down.

“c’mon . . let me see, pretty girl,” satoru assists you in coming off of his cock, and the white in your mouth spills out almost instantly. “aaattagirl . .” your boyfriend grins his infamous lazy morning grin that makes your heart do flips, faltering just a bit when you let his seed drip down your tongue and back onto his dick.

“s’much cum, satoru.” you mumble, intoxicated, fingers connected by strings of his cum and you gather saliva mixed with cum to spit onto his shaft and the gesture is so hot that he needs to see you do it again, and you indulge him — you push out saliva past your lips, a long string before he finally meets his sensitive tip again.

gojo reaches heaven a second time when your hands pick up pace again, slick noises now filling his ears.

“want more.”

bro it’s like i forgot how to write 😭😭

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pshaven · 7 months

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hi !! can I request afab reader putting medicine on jake’s cold sore in the practice room and the members teasing him about it? reader is bending down holding his chin and he hugs her waist while still sitting 🤭 you can start it however you’d like~

thank you! <3

THIS IS SOOCCUTEE idk if u wanted this nsfw but ill make it suggestive for you hehe<33

jake running around the practice room while squealing like a little girl was the last thing you expected to see when you opened the door to surprise him and the rest of the members.

“jake! please, sit still!” heeseung complains, already sounding exasperated like they’ve been at this for over an hour (it’s definitely been only fifteen minutes). jake is practically wailing, eyes squeezed shut as he runs in circles, all the members just laying and sitting on the floor as they watch him.

“y/n? hey! what’re you doing here?” sunghoon greets, purposefully raising his voice a bit louder so that jake could hear, stopping his temper tantrum at immediate effect. he stops in his tracks, eyes wide open as his head snaps towards the door to find you.

“y/n! please help me! these monsters are torturing me," he pouts exaggeratedly, arms wide open for a hug as he runs at you. ever the dramatic, and you've hung out long with jake enough to know that he's talking about his ulcers. "awwe," you coo at him, ruffling his hair like a puppy as he engulfs you in a hug.

"please do something about him, y/n. he won't let us put the medication on," jay sighs, swiping through his phone as he's more than done with jake's dramatic antics. you tilt your head curiously, having to push jake away from you before you walk over to the designated chair that was meant for jake to sit on in the first place.

you shrug, "i don't know exactly how i could help? i don't know how to put the medicine on him," you say, but the staff is desperate to get jake to stay still so they do their best to show you how to do it. you're still a bit unsure, not wanting to accidentally hurt jake (despite the fact it's going to hurt either way), so you ask the staff if maybe your presence is enough to let jake sit still.

"noooo, want y/n to do it," jake frowns, lower lip pouting out, causing you to roll your eyes at his childishness. "quit acting like such a baby, now sit," you point to the chair in front of you, and jake grins like he's got what he wanted.

"yes ma'am!" he plops down on the chair, manspreading so there's space for you between his thighs. you sigh, taking the tube from the staff before turning back to the boy in front of you. "do i need to tie your hands back or something?" you ask jokingly when you notice his fingers twitching a bit, but his eyes widen slightly and you don't miss it.

"uh- no? no! i can just, umm..." jake looks around helplessly until the idea of grabbing onto your thighs to help him resist from jumping up in his seat comes to his mind. "nope, got my own restraint right here!" he gives you a boyish grin before both his hands wrap around your thighs, giving them a slight squeeze that you hope only you can notice and not the other members and staff around you.

you furrow your brows together, giving him your best behave stare, but he only closes his eyes and opens his mouth slightly for you. to get him back, you decide to tease him a bit. your freehand grabs onto his bottom jaw harshly, forcing his mouth more open and his eyes blink open in surprise at your sudden action.

the fact that you look like you're staring more at his lips rather than the mouth sore is getting him more worked up and distracted than he anticipated, the hands on your thighs squeezing tighter and you begin to feel his fingernails pressing.

you slowly spray the medicine onto his mouth sore, holding his jaw tight so he can't budge or move away, and even though jake winces a bit through it, followed by some whines that made your stomach swirl a bit and your head woozy, the staff and members all cheered around the two of you.

"oh thank god, y/n you are our savior!" heeseung exclaims, standing up from the floor and giving you a quick hug to express his gratitude. "but i think jake has another problem you might need to fix..." he whispers in your ear, and when he pulls away he tilts his head towards jake's lap -- he popped a boner.

perhaps jake liked pain more than he led on, and maybe you'll just have to indulge with him later.

#enhypen smut #enhypen x reader #jake x reader #jaeyun x reader #jake smut #jaeyun smut #sim jake #sim jaeyun #jake fluff #jaeyun fluff #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen fanfic

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ravenslvt · 3 months

Text

can’t stop thinking about boss! leon kennedy who is just obsessed with how your pussy feels around him :(((((

how he’d tease you oh so much while bending you over his desk during your break. lifting up your cute little pencil skirt and fucking you like he hated you.

he leans forward, thrusting into you at a bruising pace, his hot breath against your ear as he whispered, "you like that, baby? you like being fucked on my desk like the dirty little whore you are?" he’d practically laugh as you whine against him.

he’d hold your writhing hips still as he pounds into you, ignoring your moans. you could feel his cock practically throb inside of you as you sqeeze him tight.

his desk would creak as his hips moved against your own. his pace quickens, his grip on your hips tightens, leaving a bruising, but pleasureable pain.

“f-fuck leon!” you’d whine into the air. he just chuckles, his thrusts slowing, but going deeper than you thought was possible.

“such a needy little slut” he’d whisper in your ear.

if anyone were to walk by his office, you were sure they’d hear your moans and pleas, along with the sound of skin slapping together loudly.

but boss! leon kennedy didn’t care. he was basically pussy drunk off the sounds you were making, along with how well you take him.

when he knew you were about to cum, he’d lean into your ear.

“you feel so fucking perfect around me. it’s like you were fucking made for me.” his breathing would start to get a little heavier, thrusts more powerful and sloppy.

“please, leon!” you’d beg, gripping the edge of his polished wooden desk.

“please what, baby? you gonna cum all over my cock for me?” he’d tease, kissing then biting your neck, making you almost scream.

“c’mon, cum for me, baby, i know you want to.” god the sound of his voice alone almost made you cum instantly. your eyes screw shut as you whine mixes of curses and his name over and over like a prayer, so close to completion.

“that’s it, pretty. gonna let me finish inside you? walk around the office all day with my cum dripping out of that pretty pussy like the fucking whore you are?” his thrusts were uncontrollable now. your forehead leaned against the hard desk.

“yes yes please, leon, fuck!” is all you can say before he covers your mouth (he knows if he didn’t you’d let the entire office know what was going on, if they didn’t know already). you came with a sob, squeezing his cock so tight he hissed as his free hand gripped your waist. he shot his hot seed inside of you and rode out a few more thrusts before slowing down and stopping.

both of you are panting and sweating, you whine in overstimulation of his cock still inside of you. he was still half hard.

“one more time?” this was the third time he’s said this.

masterlist

a/n hehe send requests pls </33

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gamermattsgf · 4 months

Text

The favour // fwb Chris

Warnings: (there’s a lot) heavy smut / dom Chris x dom fem reader / fingering / cunilingus / face sitting / wet grinding / collar kink / exhibition kink / riding / overstimulation / praise kink / degradation kink / doggy / princess kink / hair pulling / choke kink / wave riding / cream pie / breeding kink / slapping / sadism + masochism / cockwarming (erm… sorta)

Summary: you and Chris are best friends. And you just can’t seem to get off. Chris offers to help you. And it’s as simple as that.

Author’s notes: ah yes, my ‘politically correct’ piece of writing. If you do not like it. Y’all can leave it… go on I’ll wait. BUT ANYWAYS an epic battle of top vs top, goddamn, complete switch up from what I usually write, since I’m kinda known for writing submissive shit and mommy kinks hehe. I was so scared to publish this one but fuck it. I’m too deep in now to stop.

“Don’t try to take it further, focus on the friendship, get a little sidetracked…” - Best friends, The Weekend

‘You’re serious?’ Chris sputters with his eyebrows raised in disbelief and a small smirk on his face.

You shake your head and shrug your shoulders ‘I’m being dead serious bro, no one has ever been able to get me off’.

Chris blows out a flabbergasted breath, both of you lying side by side on your backs on top of his bed. He has his hands leisurely rested on his stomach, his fingers intertwined as his head sinks further into one of the pillows.

Chris and you are best friends. But you’re also both players. You don’t have a preference, you don’t care, you just like to get people off. And then whenever you hang out, you tell each other about your various different escapades.

It’s fun. You always enjoy hearing about the mirage of strange stories he tells you with little smirks over his face.

You sit in contemplative silence for a bit, yourself feeling a little awkward after expelling that uncalled for fact about your sexual wellbeing.

The white ceiling blurs as you refocus your eyes, but then you hear the bedcovers crinkle beside you, and then the sound of Chris’ body rolling over to you echoes within your ears.

Your breath hitches as he tosses one of his legs over your lying one, before hoisting his body over it completely. Then he sits back on his calves, his knees sinking into the mattress as his arms shoot out in front of him.

‘Chris what the fuck are you doing’.

His hands curl around the backs of your knees and you squeak a little in surprise as he flexes his arms to pull you vigorously toward him. Then he falls forward, catching himself with his hands on either side of your head. Suddenly you feel his lower body press up onto your hips.

‘What the fuck do you mean ‘what am I doing?’?’

He spits sarcastically, groaning in effort as he lowers down further onto you by bending his elbows and lying them down onto the mattress.

‘I’m getting you off’ he mumbles before immediately nuzzling his nose into your neck. Your voice falters and your mouth drops open. Your thighs desperately want to squeeze together but Chris’ thick hips weighting down on your core prevent this.

‘If other guys can’t do it for you then I will’

‘Chris-’ you sputter, slightly in amusement, but also slightly in shock at the image of his body on top of yours. You feel his tongue, and it slicks out quickly onto your neck, the consistency hot and soft as your skin grazes his lips.

‘Let’s make some bruises first though…’ he muses teasingly into your neck. Then his mouth bites down and you hiss, finally putting your shaking hands to good use by clawing them at his shoulder blades.

He continues to kiss, and you throb, liquids trickling and your stomach churning in desire. Your nails curl and they make a slow descent down his back as you pant into the air. Chris smirks smugly into your neck, knowing that he already has you dripping wet for him.

‘Go on… scratch my back all up, I dare you’

He drawls out gleefully, finding the roots of your hair after one of his hands slithers under your head to tug it back aggressively.

You whimper, but Chris only licks his lips at the unmarked skin, his mouth watering at the attractive angle your head is tilted at. He can’t wait to make your eyes roll into the back of your head. He dives in again, and muffles his groans with your neck at the feeling of your back arching up welcomingly into his touch.

‘Chris…’ you try again, but it comes out as more of a sigh since you can no longer speak anymore words.

Suddenly he detaches his mouth from your neck, slithering his body down the length of yours as his nose brushes against every inch of your clothed figure on his way down. Your breathing is laboured, and you have to sit up onto your elbows to look down lustfully at the way his arms snake their way underneath your thighs, his chin resting on your pubic bone before he effortlessly lifts your calves up onto his shoulders.

‘Chris- a-are you seriously gonna’ you start before swallowing meekly and cutting yourself off at his eye roll.

‘When have I ever said something I didn’t mean, huh?’

His hands feel their way up to the waistband of your sweats before he hooks his fingers into it and slowly pulls it away. He goes until your panties are exposed to him and again, you try to squeeze your thighs together in anticipation, but it only ends up trapping Chris’ head into a firm lock.

He smirks, before dipping his head down and softly kissing your clothed centre. You drip behind your panties when you feel his lips press against the burning skin, your heart beating in your throat. You swallow harshly again, your cheeks a heavily flushed pink, before Chris looks up once more with dilated pupils.

‘I’ve wanted to eat you out for so fucking long…’

Your back arches yet again in desire, but it doesn’t surprise you, both Chris and you hung out quite a lot, and went into very sexually explicit detail when you chatted, hence the obvious attraction. However, it doesn’t make it any less hot as he slides his hands up once again to slip off your last layer.

He allows your legs to drop from his shoulders for just a second so that he can take off both your sweats and your panties, leaving yourself exposed to his wet, cherry red mouth.

‘Please… squeeze your thighs hard baby, really wanna feel you, want you to fucking suffocate me with these pretty legs’

He pleads, his hands splaying out widely onto your inner thighs as he trails them back up to your core feverishly, admiring them and spreading your legs open for him as he goes before he props your legs back up onto his shoulders.

‘I’m gonna eat you out so good… make you think I’m the only man in the world capable enough to handle you…’

‘Please…’ is all you can breathe in return before a smirk carves into Chris’ face again at being able to coax you into begging for him.

‘That’s my good girl’ he praises quietly before gathering saliva into his mouth and spitting a thick jewel of it all over your core. It drips right down your throbbing heat, and Chris licks his lips whilst observing his work, before dropping his nose right onto your clit.

You hiss in pleasure at the sensitivity when he slides his face down your slit, his mouth kissing your centre hungrily as he grabs onto the tops of your thighs to squeeze them feverishly and keep you close to him.

‘We look so fucking pretty together with my face between your legs don’t you think?’

You whimper instantly, squeezing your eyes shut and arching you back at the slick consistency. Your hips buck, and you grind yourself down onto Chris’ face. He inhales with a dreamy smile on his lips before you look your head back down to him, yourself still propped up on your now shaking elbows. Chris’ dilated eyes flick up to connect with yours, and just as he does this, his tongue purposefully darts out so that he can lick a bold strip right up the centre of your clit.

Your chest rises and falls, and you mewl at the sensation of his tongue working along the spongy nerve. His eyes drop for a second, to close and simply enjoy himself as he licks away your sweetened juices, his nose constantly bumping and pushing against your tender clit because of how deeply he forces himself. However, now that the initial shock of Chris wanting to eat you out has worn off, you begin to feel your normal sexual tendencies seeping through your mind once again.

With that being said, as Chris sprawls out below you, licking into your heat and gripping onto your supple flesh, one of your thighs twitch, and somehow, you can’t seem to just let him try and get you off without adjusting the position to suit yourself.

Your thigh flexes and knocks into the side of Chris’ head, which catches him off guard. This then allows you to gravitate your hips to the side, causing a chain reaction within Chris’ body. He tips, then falls onto his back with a ‘humph’ before you are able to effortlessly gravitate your body up on top of his so that now, you are sitting on his face with each side of your thighs trapping his head onto the bottom of the mattress.

You smirk and grind down onto his nose evilly, but Chris only allows you to have this freedom of power for about 10 seconds. He continues to suck and kiss against you, but his toleration is not great, and you peek down to see that he is glaring up at you.

Soon, his hands slither their way up to your hips, and he roughly wrestles you off of his face. Rather violently, he throws you back down into your original position and you squeak in shock when he rolls back into his cozy spot in between your legs.

And so the fight for dominance begins. You fucking knew this would happen, it’s a spoken truth that both Chris and you are tops, so it was just a matter of time before something like this occurred.

Instead of putting his face back down there however, he leers up to you, his torso slithering like a snake’s as he arches his back and towers his crawling body over yours threateningly.

He looks bigger, more muscular this way. But it only makes you wetter in attraction.

Bringing up his right hand to his face, he lollipops his pointer and middle finger into his mouth, reaching them all the way down his throat so that he can wetly coat them with spit before taking them out and guiding them towards your lower half.

‘I’ve been waiting to do this for fuck knows how long…’ he begins in a chastising manner, now his long fingers finding your throbbing clit and stroking it slowly. ‘So I want to be able to watch your face when I eat you out’.

You have to quickly bite on your lip and feather your eyes closed when those two fingers slip inside of you, his thumb quickly manoeuvring to take over with rubbing your clit so both things are being done simultaneously.

‘And I can’t fucking do that if you’re sitting on my face like that can I?’ He begins to growl, reprimanding you as his fingers go at an agonisingly slow pace to teach you a lesson. Suddenly his left hand quickly comes to give the side of your thigh a harsh but playful slap. ‘So, be my good girl and stay fucking still for me whilst I have my treat yeah?’

‘And what if I don’t do as I’m told?’ You smirk and challenge him back, knowing all too well how this game goes, you’ve played it plenty of times before - Chris is just a little bit better at it than most people.

But he still has you dripping the same, even only as friends.

Something changes within Chris’ eyes in that moment. The softness of them hardens, and this little ordeal no longer feels like a kind and friendly favour.

You have a feeling he’s going to get rough with you in a minute…

Now the gaze he portrays is more ravenous, it morphs right before your very eyes and he looks as though he’s about to make a meal out of your body.

The hand wetly slipping in and out of you abruptly stops, and instead exits your hole, only to gravitate back up to your collarbones. Chris’ jaw clenches and his nostrils flare slightly at your defiance.

It’s as if he forgets that you’re just as dominant as him within the sheets, because he seems to want all of the control to himself… typical top behaviour. And it’s only a matter of time before you realise that the hand moving up to your collarbones is actually making its way up to your exposed neck instead.

Cupping your throat, his veined and sticky hand presses down onto it and slowly begins to put pressure on your wind pipe, choking you from breath.

‘I don’t think you have much of a choice baby… because I’ll make you’ he smirks, speaking to you and leaning his head down until his nose touches the tip of yours.

‘I don’t like it when you’re on top, so I guess I’ll just have to fuck you into a whiny little bottom for me, won’t I?’ He chastises you in a babied voice, as if he is talking to a small animal, which contrasts to his clamped hand that is now making you feel slightly dizzy with light-headedness.

You swallow, your heat gushing at the bruise-inflicting grip his fingertips have against your throat, and you think Chris knows that you are enjoying it just as much as he is.

‘Pretty little necklace for a pretty little neck…’ he mumbles, leaning his head down slightly further, just enough so that his lips can feather against yours. ‘I wanna find out how much I can make this pretty little neck scream’ he cheekily muses against your lips, before releasing his pressured grip slightly.

This allows you time to take in a huge, stuttering breath as you look up at Chris with glassy eyes.

The clang of a heavy belt undoing rings within your ears, the leather flapping against itself when Chris manages to slip it off with only one hand. You’re impressed. But there are only so many things that you can focus on at once, and currently you are still hyper fixated on the way his hand expertly chokes you from air.

‘Ahh fuck, I’m so hard for you princess’ He meekly whimpers onto your mouth after loosening the button and zipper to his jeans, only now just realising how furiously hard his cock is after slipping his hand down his pants and cupping it.

It throbs and leaks within his boxers whilst his hand grips against it to start jerking it. He feels so sexually pent up after discussing sex with you almost all day, not getting any of it himself until now. With that, and the added experience of licking you clean, Chris feels as though he could explode at any moment. But he’s too good at this for his own good, and can hold on for a while, he’s experienced at edging and has done it all before.

You whine rather loudly up onto Chris’ lips at the nickname, squeezing your thighs against his body once again.

This has him retracting his head up so that he can fully take in your face as he smirks once again, the devil dancing along his mouth and his eyebrows furrowing in confused pleasure.

‘Yeah? You like that? Has my pretty little girl got a princess kink?’

He raises his eyebrows at an antagonising rate, clearly getting off on teasing you as he works himself with his own hand back down near your hole.

You whine again.

‘Chris!’.

Shouting at him in embarrassment, you cover both of your blushing cherry cheeks with your hands, not wanting to admit to your friend that the notion of him calling you a princess makes your heart beat down at your clit.

‘I think she doesssss’ he drawls out within a singsong, poking you playfully with the hand that was resting against your throat. You squirm, before gritting your teeth. But then his energy changes.

‘Fuck, I actually think that’s really hot’ he groans into your ear gutturally, after rubbing against his own tip, now practically pressing his whole entire body weight down on top of yours and trapping you underneath him. But, you are not going to be fucking humiliated and degraded by Chris, no matter how attractive his dominating sex appeal may be.

So you push against his shoulders roughly, and once again it sends him flying to the side. He whimpers in surprise but you are already turning so that you can yank his hand up from out of his boxers. He moans aggressively at the lose of contact before he is widening his eyes and swallowing.

You then clamber on top of his lap, slapping one of your hands down onto his chest before he can push himself back up again. Chris looks at you with slightly erratic eyes, and you can tell that he really didn’t see that one coming. Good.

Slowly, you begin to swirl your hips, rolling them on his cock, which finally, gets him to falter. He weakens within your hold, his eyelashes feathering and his mouth opening slightly to let out another high-pitched moan. His back arches delightfully, and you glow in your newfound power, adoring looking down at a defenceless Chris who white knuckles the bed sheets and squirms around like a little boy.

‘Jesus- just like that princess’ he mumbles vaguely, panting, now also with two flushed red cheeks that acquire perspiration with every grind of your fluid hips.

Thinking that you’re not quite teasing him enough to match the kind of embarrassment that he just put you through, you shift your naked lower half down slightly so that you can sit on his thighs, clad within red Calvin Kleins.

Reaching your fingers into the waistband on either sides of his hips, you smile innocently before pulling down the stretchy fabric, allowing his reddened cock to spring free.

Chris takes in a shaky, heaving inhale, his head tilted back as he focuses on his breathing with his eyelashes feathering and his chest laboured. You take him suddenly and Chris rips a gasp from his chest whilst you feel around to get a perfect grip on him. It doesn’t take long however, because his prick is already perfect.

‘Jesus Chris, you never told me how big you were’ you mumble in admiration, having no shame in fixing your stare right onto his cock, your mouth practically watering at the angry vein lacing its way to his tip, his girth thick and lengthy. Chris finds it in himself to recover and smirk cockily at the compliment, already knowing how big he is.

‘Yeah? Think you can take me princess? Am I too big for you?’

His hands slide their way behind his head, giving it something to suavely lean on as his smug eyes glance down at the way you watch his prick. Gritting your teeth in annoyance at his clear show of dominance still, you grip it tightly before lunging your lower half forward to sit back down, this time so that his cock brushes heavily against your clit.

Chris squeezes his eyes tightly shut once again, knocking his sharpened jaw back as he curses up into the air and whines.

‘Think your cock can handle me?’ You bite back, flipping the question on its side as you slowly grind backwards and forwards over Chris’ sensitivity, his back now arched fully and his hands out to his sides once again so that he can grip onto his bedsheets.

He looks as though he’s about to lose consciousness, so your hand shoots forward and roughly grips his chin, forcing his head to glance upwards in a dizzied spell of pleasure.

‘Look at me pretty boy…’ you whisper, sliding your other hand that was once at his chest, down your thigh to squeeze it for Chris’ benefit. You know how much he loves thighs; due to previous conversations you have had in the past about them. His eyes are hooded and his mouth is open whilst he takes panting breaths.

‘I want you to watch me play with you’

His dilated eyes flit to the erotic sight of his cock disappearing in between your folds slickly after ever grind, the pleasure he feels from just watching blowing through the roof at the sensual exhibition of wet sex. His lips are moist, due to his tongue passing over them every couple of seconds.

‘Pretty cock for a pretty boy yeah?’ you pout playfully and shrug, which gets Chris nodding and babbling a distracted ‘Uhuh’, almost as if he is in a drunken stupor. But you enjoy it, nonetheless.

And it goes on like this for a while, before you stop and lift yourself from him, deciding that you have teased him enough. Grabbing his throbbing cock back within you hand, you squeeze him and angle him upwards with the intention of fully sinking down onto him this time, finally feeling the ache to ride him.

But, within your loss of concentration on his face and the vulnerability that comes with gravitating up onto your knees above him, Chris sees a point of instability. Looking at your wobbling legs, he realises that he can knock you off balance easily, and so grins devilishly, his mouth practically dripping with drool at the thought that spins within his head of a sexual fantasy he’s always wanted to recreate with you.

Quickly flexing his stomach, he crunches upwards to a sitting position, wasting no time in shooting out his hands and swallowing your hip bones within their expanse.

It all happens so fast.

But you squeak as you are caught off guard.

Chris quickly and effortlessly lifts you away from him, his biceps greedily flexing and giving you an eyeful before you are spun around fully and tossed onto your hands and knees. You hardly have any time to recover before you are choking out a moan because of the way Chris crawls up right behind you, also on his hands and knees.

Now, one thing about Chris’ room layout, is that at the foot of his bed, he has a walk in closet, and the doors to said closet are mirrored, meaning that currently you are staring at a reflection of yourself, with a ravenous Chris leaning over you.

You wheeze as he pounces forward, throwing his back over yours and using his left knee to kick one of your thighs apart so that your legs can spread to make room for him. You feel your stomach churn at the notion of watching Chris fuck you, your eyes fixating upon your animalistic reflections. He too looks at you both in the mirror, smirking at you in victory through the fogged glass, knowing that there is absolutely no way you’re going to be able to even the odds again in such a submissive position.

You choke, still not yet accustomed to how he had switched the power dynamic so quickly between the two of you, before he’s gripping himself and slipping right into your dripping hole.

You whine, your elbows buckling to the mattress at the stretched burn, which sends your front barelling to the duvet, sticking you ass further up into the air and pushing Chris ever deeper. Chris grunts, his stomach heaving as it rises and falls against your tailbone. His breath is hot on your neck as he admires the way he looks pushing his cock into you.

‘Good girl.’

He gutturally whispers into you ear knowing that you’re watching him speak this from through the mirror. His praise is slightly condescending, with a teasing twinge to it and you know that it’s because he’s bragging about getting the better of you.

You knew he was going to put up a fight for it, you just didn’t realise how rough he’d get.

‘Don’t you look like such a pretty angel on your hands and knees for me?’ He hums fondly, now leering forward on your back even further so that he can whisper directly into your ear, his eyes still absolutely fixated upon the mirror.

‘You’re practically begging for me to take you from behind’ he scoffs before simply sitting inside of you, refusing to move until you acknowledge him and admit to him that he’s right.

‘I’m not moving until you beg for it…’ he sticks up his nose, leaning on one of his hands whilst the other one slithers up your sweater that had drooped open with gravity to squeeze onto one of your braless tits and rub his thumb over your nipple. You roll your eyes, your cheeks flushed and sweating before you snort it defiance.

Chris soon looses his patience and removes his hand from its stimulating grip on your tit, only to bring it back out and hardly swat it against the side of your thigh.

‘Say it’

He bellows through gritted teeth, his hand softly soothing the now reddened hand print plastered over your thigh by rubbing over the stinging skin.

You grit your own teeth, hissing slightly in pain but still keeping your mouth shut. Chris delivers another slap, this time nearer to your ass and hurting a lot harder. Tears form within your eyes but you still throb the same, adoring how the waves of pain feel as they warmly spread through your gut and melt into pleasure instead.

You do want to desperately get off though, and so you swallow down your pride, being humiliated as a top once again today by breaking your stare from the mirror and twisting your head behind you so that you could look a lustful Chris in the eyes.

‘Please! I want your cock, please give it to me pretty boy… please’.

Chris seems satisfied enough with this answer, because he smirks, before reaching his hand underneath your chest and slithering it right up to your neck so that he can twist your head back around to face the mirror yet again.

‘There’s my pretty girl…’

His choking grip stays near your jaw as he forces you to watch the way he slowly begins to stroke in and out of you.

‘I jerk off thinking about you a lot y’know, imagining us doing something just like this, sometimes replaying it on the wall, on the floor… in the shower’.

As Chris reels off each of these different scenarios, you can’t help but picture each of them in your head as well, your eyes rolling into the backs of your sockets whilst you bite your lip and suppress a whine at the feeling of his tip reaching a sensitive spot within you.

He doesn’t stop there with his verbal onslaught however, for he keeps going, nearly moaning into your ear whilst mumbling ‘you always make me so horny when you come over princess.’

Which in part, you know is truthful, you just didn’t quite grasp how horny it really made him.

Sure you two talk about sex a lot, since it is primarily what adolescent minds are fixated upon these days- however you were not aware that it had gotten to the extent where Chris could no longer control his hormones anymore.

You know he’s good at suppressing these feelings, he did it too much to not be an expert at it by now, but you guess he just couldn’t help himself this time when the opportunity to give you a good dicking arose.

And fuck was he good at giving it.

‘From now on… if you need help with getting off, you come to me’ He possessively announces into the air as his motions start to make the bed rattle up against the thin back wall.

The bedroom window to his apartment is cracked wide open, which means anyone passing underfoot nosy enough to stop and listen in would no doubt hear your filthy moans as you fucked. Which you suppose isn’t really a bad thing in your minds, as it is yet again something that you openly discussed about in the past, coming to the unanimous decision that it both turned you on even more.

‘I don’t think-’ you try to speak but are abruptly cut off by a yelp of pain when he delivers another brutal slap to the skin of your thigh. It irritates you slightly, because you know exactly what he’s playing at.

‘The only word you should be fucking speaking is my name, over and over again princess, so I don’t wanna hear anything else out of that filthy little mouth of yours unless it’s to do with how good I fuck you’

This is humiliating and degrading as a top, and your cheeks flush with embarrassment, the blood rushing to them as his cock thickly stretches you out and you have to take stuttering inhales to catch your breath.

Your blood boils and you go to shout back at him, but then you stop when something within your stomach flips, and the tickling pleasure intensifies, cooking and rolling within your gut. You have to press your face into his mattress to moan when an orgasm tugs at your mind.

You try to hide your face there so Chris can’t hear how noisy you’re being to protect your dignity as a top, but that doesn’t work, because Chris gets a surge of power that fuels his god complex every time he looks down at the submissive nature he had managed to force you into.

The hand cupping around your neck slides into the back of your hair and grips it roughly. A dull ache melts across the roots of it as he yanks your face back up again to watch the mirror. ‘Don’t you fucking dare’ he spits into your ear harshly. ‘When I said I wanted to hear you scream I fucking meant it… I want everyone outside to know how good I fuck my girl’.

He chastises you from through the mirror, his blue eyes glinting and oozing with masculine dominance whilst he admires the way your shoulders heave and you whimper into the air uncontrollably because of his doing.

‘Chris…’ you pant, not being able to help it anymore because you need to come, your body sweating and burning up as your eyes feather closed. Chris smirks, knowing that you would never willingly do as you were told like a submissive unless you absolutely had to, meaning that he had just done his job at getting you off.

‘Does my princess need to come?’ He teases into your ear, before letting go of your hair and reaching his hand underneath your body. He trails it down your stomach so that he can play with your clit, which only makes your stimulation even worse.

‘Chris please-‘ you whine, but you physically cannot get anymore words out because your brain is too concerned with chasing your high as your thighs begin to weaken and wobble within their stance. ‘Do you think you deserve to come?’ He questions, again teasing you with malicious intent as his thrusts suddenly slow, his pointer finger now circulating your clit at a lazy pace. This gets your high to diminish, which irritates you.

He is not fucking getting away with edging you, even if it means you need to beg for him.

So, as much as you hate it, you whine into the air, now grinding your hips backwards so that you can meet his forward strokes, which gets him to hiss unexpectedly and smirk from behind you.

‘Yes- yes I- please Chris please- I’ll be your good girl… I’ll- I’ll come to you when I need to fuck someone, I promise… just please- I wanna come… please…’

You cannot believe you are grovelling at his feet like this, you sound pathetic, but to be fair to him, it is worth it, because god can Chris fuck… you’re not too mad about him offering his cock to you whenever you need it either, even though that entails the idea of friends with benefits… and everyone knows that those kind of favours usually end in disaster.

But the favour is just too good of an offer to pass up.

Satisfied with your begging, Chris smirks once again, weighting his back down heavily and getting into a good position before he muses a quick ‘there’s my good girl’. He speeds his pace yet again, and the faster he goes the more your orgasm threatens to snap like a thread.

And it doesn’t take long, before you burst and give a final whine into the air, throwing your head back so that it hits his muscled shoulder whilst the heat of your orgasm melts down your thighs and spreads across your chest. Chris rides you through it, still stroking but this time thickly and slowly as your cum drips down his cock. Finally, after your orgasm is over, he kisses your temple and mumbles into your ear ‘such a good girl for me’ before caressing you and pulling out.

This makes you wince quietly, as his hands now soften against your body and help you lie down, sprawled across his mattress. As you come down from your high, Chris’ sweating body presence slowly slips away, and you hear the duvet covers crinkle beneath his knees as he stretches the expanse of his body over to his nightstand.

Hearing the wooden drawer scrape open within your ears and his hand rustling around the compartment you listen while you pant, trying to calm your sodden core and slow your heart rate down.

Closing your eyes, you breathe with exhaustion.

But you open them again when Chris comes back behind you, your head, that is resting on his mattress turned to look at the way one of his hands lean on the bed covers right in front of your eyes with his knuckles.

Then, metal and the flap of leather is heard within the ear on the other side of your head, your vision probably purposefully obscured from seeing the object by Chris himself.

Why did he have his belt with him?

Until you realise that when you feel leather sliding under your chin… it isn’t Chris’ belt.

His breathing is thick and his presence overwhelming as the smell of sex permeates the air. His hand that was resting right by your face then reaches forward so that he can grab the item and stop you from moving away from it.

You are now trapped from both sides.

‘Chris! What the fuck!?’ You question angrily before a deep and condescending chuckle is heard from behind you as Chris yanks your neck up by the leather and you feel the metal clip catch to fasten the collar tightly onto your skin.

He’s using his favourite collar… on you.

‘What? You didn’t think you’d get away with me not using this did you? It’s my favourite toy…’

You sit up with a mortified look on your face, gazing into the mirror at the simple black neck accessory. Chris smirks from behind you, admiring the collar and throbbing at the perfect fit it possesses over you neck. Leering forward, he uses his fingers to twist your jaw so that he can softly kiss against your lips.

It takes you by surprise, but you brush over the fact that you have a sadists’ collar on your neck in favour of hesitantly kissing Chris back. Each of you get lost within the twists of your tongues and the breaths you take, trying to coat as much of your scents onto each other as possible.

He moans into your mouth, grabbing at your face aggressively before one of his hands slides down so that he can play with the collar, tugging on the leather to pull you closer to him. To say he gets carried away is an understatement, because he sits back on his haunches as he grasps your thighs so that he can pull you into his lap.

Still kissing you, he mumbles into your lips ‘can my brave girl manage another orgasm?’

You falter, your lips stopping as you open your eyes to look down at him, not quite sure because of how sensitive you are, however… the tables turn after he adds some sweetness to the offer.

Kissing and grazing his teeth against your bottom lip he drawls a tempting ‘I want you to sit on my cock, so bad’. Something you weren’t quite expecting from someone like Chris, who is very obviously a control freak and rarely lets girls top. You suppose he makes a special exception for you though, because you can tell he wants to show off and exceed the expectation of not only giving you one, but giving you two orgasms back to back.

So you swallow, before nodding your head and letting Chris scoop his hands underneath your armpits so that he can lift you up above his reddened cock.

You screw up your face and whimper a little when he helps you onto him. Chris hisses and mewls quietly into your neck, trying not to let on to the fact that he had been sorely hard for a while with no stimulation after slipping out of you. Your walls ripple and sting slightly with sensitivity but you hold your wheezes down by focussing in on the way Chris willingly lets you sit on top of him without putting up a fight this time.

His hands rest on the curves of your hips, squeezing them and breathing raggedly as you start to grind. He bites his bottom lip and looks up at you with glassy, dilated eyes that gleam with arousal.

‘Shit, you’re taking me so well baby… want me to help?’

You nod your head distractedly, just grateful that he isn’t prepared to let your tired limbs do it all yourself. Your first orgasm has tired them and your clit is still aching, but as soon as he starts hoisting your hips upwards then smoothing them back downwards leisurely, you have time to catch your breath.

Your stomach clenches once again, your body exhausted but your mentality thirsting for another orgasm, which you’re sure Chris will have no problem giving you. This time however, it proves to be a lot more challenging to build you back up again, so Chris has to work twice as hard to please you.

The barrier between pleasure and pressure takes a while to break as Chris pants into the air, resting his forehead on your shoulder because of how good your walls feel squeezing around him. The cum from your first orgasm also makes it extra easier and even more erotic as he slides inside and out wetly, only making it twice as painstaking for him to hold on and not cum all over you himself. His narcissism simply doesn’t let his bodily needs win, because he cannot go back on his own promise of giving you a second orgasm and he would never let himself live it down if he did. He’s good at what he does, and he’s not going to sacrifice his pride simply because it’s you and he can barely control himself around your body normally.

‘You look so pretty when you come… I wanna see that face again’

Chris coos up to you, which makes you squeeze your eyes shut and look towards your bottom halves so that you don’t have to face his piercing eyes. Chris voices this as absentminded dirty talk, but of course there is also the secret notion of you returning more than once to get what you want from him hidden within the statement, hopeful and pining for your sex just as much as you pine for his.

‘Chris it’s a little sore still’ you whine to him, complaining at the pace he is going at, Chris only hushes you like you are a small child, before lunging upwards so that he can have your lips on his once again.

He decides he likes kissing you… a lot.

‘I know you can handle it’ he simply mumbles back, his fingertips digging into the fleshy part of your ass so that he can squeeze the skin in his hands and speed up your grinds. ‘Just gotta build you back up again’ he speaks once again, referring to working away your body’s sensitivity and turning it into a high once more after you start to get pleasure out of the strokes instead of pain.

So you two go on like this, into a period where you fall into silence, the only noises being your raggedy breathes, the gentle squeak of the wooden bed and the backs of your thighs gently hitting against the tops of his. You look into each other’s gleaming eyes, your noses almost touching and your hearts racing. your fingers thread into the back roots of his darkened brunette hair, the long silky strands running through your fingertips easily and making you smile at their softness

But after a while, you suddenly get restless, and your clit no longer begs for mercy, instead it melts into a hungrier sensation, and you feel as though Chris has successfully just gotten you out of the overstimulated slump of your first orgasm, readying you for your second.

‘Chris I- I think’ you stutter and swallow, suddenly grabbing onto his shoulders and squeezing them as your eyes widen in realisation. Chris raises his eyebrows cockily, because he knows what’s going to happen so, he lurches forward with you in his arms and your back lands onto his mattress once again.

Your head cushions between his two fluffed pillows and he takes up most of your personal space, right in between your thighs so that this time he can take over the thrusting. ‘Yeah? Is my baby needing to come again?’ He questions in a sultry manner, your thighs squeezing his hips in desire at how annoyingly confident and smirky he is.

‘Shut up Chris’ you say back with a blush decorating your cheeks, not helping the way you ache for him as his cock fills you up completely. After hearing this, Chris frowns, pulling out of you and then grabbing you so that he can effortlessly flip you around.

You yelp again with your stomach on the mattress and your face buried into the pillows, in so much pain because of the absence of his cock, which is intensified by the aggressive slap he gives the back of your left thigh.

‘Don’t be so ungrateful princess…’ he chastises you harshly whilst soothing his hand over your skin before spreading you out and entering you once again, which gets you to halt your whines and choke out whimpers instead.

Your toes curl as Chris darts out his tongue to lick a bold stripe right up your spine before beginning to kiss the back of your neck.

You hum an apology into the mattress, but only after Chris tugs on the collar with a ‘listen if you’re gonna give me attitude then maybe I shouldn’t be so nice… next time I might force you to give me head instead of giving you an orgasm if you’re not fucking careful sweetheart… how does that sound hm?’

Fumbling around, your shaking hands finally manage to steady themselves by gripping onto his duvet and white knuckling it.

Again, Chris tries to think about what kind of other things he can say to get you off quicker, because he too, is feeling like he needs to come pretty soon… and it has absolutely destroyed him to hang on for this long.

Wracking his brain as he thrusts, he then ponders the idea of trying something new, something that he has never done before but is willing to wager with you, because he’s not going to lie, the notion makes him harder than he’s ever willing to admit. He decides that it’s worth the try… not fearing at all about the reaction, since you’re the least judgemental person he knows.

‘If we weren’t best friends, I’d fuck a baby into you right now’ he rasps into your ear from behind you.

His front weighs heavily on top of your back as his left hand tangles within the strands of your hair, yanking it and pushing your face into the pillow to muffle your whines.

‘Squeezing me so nice and tight ma’.

But the comment only makes your back arch further into the mattress, your hands clawing and wringing against the duvet cover.

Chris smirks, before he thinks to milk it even further, considering the fact that it is working almost too well, even for him. Along with this… he is also not wearing a condom, knowing that his pull out game is strong. However, it only makes it feel all the more real to both of you.

‘My baby would look so pretty with your eyes….’ he adds on, slipping the top of your ear into his mouth so that he can tug on it.

His hips move at a gorgeous pace, ramming you into the bed whilst his other hand grips the headboard that bangs against the wall rhythmically.

‘I want to give you one so bad… you take me so fucking good princess… you’d be such a good mommy for me’

At this rate he’s going to get bruises all over his knuckles, but he really just doesn’t give a fuck. His main concern is getting you off for the second time this evening - this time with the added addition of his collar, straight after he finished you off the first time.

Your stomach flips in pleasure, especially after he whines ‘fuck… I never wanna wear a condom with you ever… you feel too fucking good wrapped around me like this…’

A pure animalistic kind of hold takes over your body within that moment, and you have to screw your neck into a turn to get it from out of the muffle of the pillows so that he can hear you clearly as you sputter ‘come inside me then- I’m, I’m on the pill’.

You know saying this will drive Chris insane, so you don’t hesitate. You feel as though there is a primal need within you to have his cum dripping out your hole, to make it clear as to who you belong to within that moment. Chris’ mouth falls open as he groans once again when he begins to pick up the pace at this lecherous comment, knowing that he is on the brink of coming. This sends him over the end.

As he rams into you, you feel him burst as he whimpers, letting all of his cum drip out uncontrollably from his tip as it mixes with the rememants of your second orgasm, each of your bodily fluids leaking and mixing with each other’s.

Taking deep stuttering breaths after his high, Chris practically collapses on top of you, both of your shoulders heaving as you suddenly collectively laugh in disbelief.

‘Shit...’ he mumbles into your hair, albeit a little starstruck at his impulsive decision to cum inside of you. You return with an equally as stunned ‘wow… um…’, before you both burst out giggling once again at what had just happened, each of you still hyper aware of his cock inside of you.

‘You wanna go pee?’ He affectionately muses, back to his friendly tone that you know so well, yet still very much naked in his lower half section. You chuckle, grateful that he cares about looking out for you with aftercare, yet also shrugging and snuggling down into the pillow lazily before you close your eyes.

‘Yeah… in a minute… can we just lie here for a bit though?’ You question sleepily, absolutely bone-tired from how hard Chris had railed you into his bed, to which he quips a quick ‘sure’ and plonks his head down onto your shoulder blades.

His heavy weight on top of your back feels oddly comforting, in a twisted, friendly way.

Finally, to end your little adventurous escapade, Chris reaches up his hands to take off the collar from your neck, making your heart squeeze a little as he mumbles ‘that was honestly some of the best sex I’ve ever had, thank you bro’ whilst pulling out the leather sex toy from underneath you.

You snort, and smile, knowing that what lies ahead of your changed relationship will simply be a lot more repeats of what happened tonight…

Author’s notes p.2: you’d think I’m writing whole ass books from how fucking long these things are, jesus… but anyways, the collar kink was an adventurous gamble and I’m not sure how I feel about it. However, The Weekend’s song Best Friends for sure inspired this piece of writing, plus I just love a old good friends w/ benefits Chris imagine, so I hope u liked my interpretation of it <33

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