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#and you have to take its word that a sorry bump on its forehead is in fact a horn
roxannepolice · 1 year
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saetoru · 8 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ how long does it take to fuck your brother's best friend? (four whole days)
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synopsis. suguru comes home to visit from college at the same time you do—except he brings satoru along. this is going to be a long break
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word count. 8.5k (i am tired of this tomfoolery)
contents. college! au, brother's best friend! satoru, fem! reader, minors do not interact, three-year age gap (you're both early twenties), slightly mean satoru (when you’re kids), slight enemies to lovers, jealous! satoru, mentions of reader having an ex-bf, male masturbation, satoru is taller + carries reader, cunnilingus, fingering, handjobs, unprotected sex, brief mentions of alcohol (satoru), creampie, pet names (baby + sweetheart), not proofread i could not be bothered i’m sorry
notes. this was not supposed to be this long bye i am embarrassingly down bad for the blue-eyed freak
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everyone knows that where there is satoru, there is suguru—and likewise, where there is suguru, there is satoru.
they’re a bit of a packaged deal, really. satoru befriends your brother in what you think must be some twisted stroke of luck—there is no way suguru would lower his standards for some rich bastard who’s had life made for him since the day he was born. but apparently, he does, and you’re stuck with a white-haired nuisance in your house at least once a week. for years.
you’ve known satoru since he was a whiny, snot-faced, and spoiled little brat. back then, he used to call you toothless—you were six, it’s normal for children at the age of six to lose a few teeth. just because satoru is nine and has grown his teeth back doesn’t mean he escaped the toothless phase himself—but satoru is just a jerk like that, pushes your buttons, and calls out your insecurities to get a good laugh.
you don’t smile with your mouth open even once around him that summer, not until suguru assures you that regardless of how many teeth you have, you have a lovely smile.
when you’re twelve, puberty does its thing, and now you’re stuck with acne-prone skin—also a normal occurrence for people your age, but satoru makes sure to point out the giant pimple on your forehead every time he sees you. you make sure to let him know his haircut is as awful as his sense of style, and suguru tries his best not to choke himself with his charger as you both bicker.
satoru is gone that entire summer for a family cruise that you’re sure costs double your house—he comes back frighteningly taller than you remember him within the span of just a few weeks.
it’s been like that since you were kids. he comes over, finds a new thing to pick on through his smug grins and smooth chuckles, and you fume as you bite back with just as snarky rebuttals. he makes sure to never cross the line of going too far—it’s more for suguru’s sake, you’re fairly sure—but stays right on the dot of getting just under your skin.
he’s annoying. a jerk. a rich snob. a privileged dickhead. he’s rude and disrespectful, with no tact, let alone any semblance of respect. you don’t understand what could possibly make suguru want to hang around such a douchebag, but suguru cares about satoru—and satoru has always been there for your brother.
you don’t understand it, but you respect it. as long as he doesn’t wet your entire bathroom sink and mirror in the mornings after he stays over, you suppose you can coexist.
but you haven’t seen him in ages—not outside of suguru’s instagram stories and posts. it’s been a long few years since the two of them have left for college, and by the time you leave too, life has its funny way of working, and, well…you don’t bump into him anymore. it doesn’t occur to you that satoru is not the same guy you used to know until you come back home to visit after your second year of college.
“suguru,” you call, “i borrowed your hoodie. but you can have it back—”
you cut yourself off when you open the door to your brother’s room, and lo and behold, stands a very shirtless gojo satoru, the white-haired and blue-eyed asshole you’ve had to deal with since childhood. except he’s way taller than you remember him—just how much does this guy grow, exactly? his shoulders are broader and….and since when did he have abs? there’s a small tattoo just under his collarbone—when did he even get that? his hair is also longer, just enough to fall over his forehead and curtain those striking blue eyes of his.
he looks…well, handsome. very handsome, in fact. dangerously handsome that it catches you by surprise as you blink.
he’s still shirtless, holding his t-shirt in his hands as he grins.
“hey, toothless,” he greets, voice deeper than the last time you heard it—but it still sounds relatively the same. you think you’d always recognize satoru’s voice, whether you’d like to or not. and, of course, he just has to still use that ridiculous nickname after all these years. “long time no see.”
“i have all my teeth now—i have for a long time, y’know. and put a shirt on, you freak,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “where’s suguru?”
“what, you don’t enjoy the view?” he motions at his bare torso, like the shameless bastard he is, “most girls love this view—”
“and yet, you’re still single,” you cut him off, staring at him pointedly.
he grins impossibly wider, tugging his shirt over his body swiftly—you have to exercise all ounces of control not to gulp as you watch his biceps flex.
“keepin’ track of my love life?” he wiggles his brows, “i know older men can be appealing but have a little class. your poor brother would lose his shit if you went after his best friend—”
“satoru,” you sigh, pinching your nose, “do you age backward or something? how are you still this obnoxious after so long?”
“i practice in the mirror,” he winks, “it’s my charm.”
“that’s hardly charming,” you roll your eyes, “anyway, whenever suguru comes back, let him know i left his hoodie, yeah?”
“sure,” he chuckles.
and then you close the door as you leave—right before you stop, pause, and open it up again as you’re sticking your head back in when you make a shocking realization.
“wait, how long are you here for?” you ask, eyes wide.
he has the audacity to look smug as he taps his chin and pretends to think—“oh, y’know. just the rest of break. my old man took my mom on some trip, so i’m killing time here,” he shrugs.
great. lovely. wonderful. just what you needed.
you wish he’d drop dead—maybe suguru will finally be forced to go outside of his one-man circle and actually befriend some respectable people.
“you can’t just stay at your place?” you hiss, “it’s certainly big enough.”
“well, why be lonely in an empty home when we can have fun here?” he hums, “consider yourself lucky—you get to be housemates with me for a—”
“keep to yourself,” you warn, cutting him off again through narrowed eyes and a dangerous glare—satoru only looks more amused, raising his hands up in surrender.
with that, you turn again and almost shut the door when he calls for you—“hey, toothless,” he says lowly, making you pause before turning to him with a raised brow. he smiles—it’s so unlike that usual smirk of his…somehow this one is a bit gentler as he murmurs, “you look good. grew up well, y’know.”
you blink. you’re not ready for that…didn’t expect a compliment from gojo satoru himself—especially not after all this time of throwing mediocre insults your way.
you decide he must be messing with you, so you purse your lips as you click your teeth in irritation. “yeah, sure,” you say dryly.
you can hear his chuckles as you close the door again—this is going to be a long break.
—————
just as expected, the house is simply not big enough for you and satoru.
the first time you run into him happens to be first thing after waking up—you’re walking up to the door just as he twists the knob and opens it, walking out shirtless. again.
this time, however, he’s got beads of water rolling down his skin from his shower, right between his pecs, as a towel hangs around his shoulders. you can see his tattoo from up close now, a small infinity sign right under his collarbone that contrasts against his pale skin.
how tacky, you think—just as you’d expect, even his choice of tattoos is questionable.
his hair is wet—it’s sticking to his forehead instead of the multiple directions it usually scatters around in that messy way it always does. you’ve only felt satoru’s hair once—when you were fifteen, and you’d hit him in the back of the head as you walked past him at the breakfast table. he’d made a jab at your dark circles. tests were around the corner, and unlike satoru, your grades actually mattered. you didn’t expect his hair to be so soft, but it is, and you almost itch to twirl the strands around your fingers for a quick feel.
instead, you scowl and stomp off to your room as soon as your dishes are washed.
his hair is probably just as soft now—maybe even softer now that he actually probably cares to look after it. you’ve heard suguru grumble about using two-in-one shampoo too many times when he comes back from spending the night at satoru’s. for a second, your fingers twitch to reach up and brush through a few strands on his forehead—just to feel them because they look soft. nothing else.
the urge is quickly killed as soon as he opens his mouth, however.
“oh, hey there, roomie,” he grins, “you’re really doing all you can to catch me half naked, huh?”
“don’t flatter yourself,” you grumble.
“i’m just sayin’,” he chuckles, “that’s twice now. if you ask nicely, i might walk around like this just for you.”
it’s way too early for this.
by early, it’s actually late noon. now that finals aren’t killing your free time, you stay up until ungodly hours to catch up with your social life—and it doesn’t help that you can hear satoru and suguru stay up playing video games the next room over, either. suguru is probably still sleeping.
that’s a bit of a shocker, in fact—usually, it’s satoru that has to be dragged out of your brother’s room to have breakfast (or brunch, really) before the kitchen is cleared up. why satoru is up first is beyond you.
maybe it’s just a cruel way for the universe to enjoy watching more of your veins pop.
“does that apply to asking you to leave? because then i suppose i can ask rather politely.”
he grins, eyes sparkling with amusement as he shoots you that smile with those pearly whites that irritate you to no end. you’re not sure why, but something about his smile looks so much different nowadays—something about it just seems so….mature.
that’s a word you didn’t think you’d ever use to describe satoru.
“mm, not quite,” he hums, “you’re still stuck with me.”
“whatever,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. “move, i want to shower before suguru wakes up.”
“you have time,” he steps to the side, letting you enter the bathroom, “he’s probably not waking up anytime soon—woah.”
satoru’s shirt is on the floor—why, you may ask? because he’s an annoying idiot who doesn’t have to clean up after himself when people have always been around to do it for him. he never has to care to aim and toss his clothes into the hamper because the maids will pick up after him anyway. old habits die hard, you suppose—you’ve listened to suguru complain about satoru’s messiness not improving even after being his roommate for the last few years. it’s never been your problem, but you don’t appreciate it now that you’re slipping over the fabric on the tiled floor, falling backwards with a squeal.
but satoru’s quick—he catches you with those strong arms of his and wraps them tightly around you, keeping you securely in place as he steadies you against his chest.
his bare chest, in fact.
you can feel the slight dampness seeping into your shirt, and you can feel his hot breath on your neck as he exhales in relief once he makes sure you’re safe. you almost shiver—almost, but you manage to scrape together enough self-control to stay painfully still in his grasp.
“you okay?” he murmurs gently, voice a low whisper against your skin. there’s no bite to his words. no amusement or teasing or even smugness. it’s genuine, the way he checks on you.
this is…new. very, very new.
“yeah,” you breathe, letting out a sharp breath. and then—“maybe keep your clothes in the fucking hamper next time, though.”
“sorry,” the smile in his voice is almost audible—you can’t see it from where you are, but you can hear it in his voice. you roll your eyes, and satoru makes no move to loosen his arms around you. for some reason, you don’t move.
you’re not sure why, but you just don’t.
“you’re still just as messy, huh?” you roll your eyes—he laughs, and it’s a smooth, boyish chuckle that almost makes you wonder for a moment if this is why girls seem to love satoru so much despite his god-awful personality.
it’s a pretty beautiful sound—you hate that you have to admit that to yourself.
“yeah,” he admits, “it drives suguru nuts.”
“yeah, i can’t imagine why,” you snort. it’s like that for a moment—satoru’s muscled arms around you and hard chest pressed against your back. finally, you clear your throat. “you can let go now, you know.”
“right,” he mumbles, slowly pulling away—and when you turn to face him….is that disappointment? on his face? you don’t get a chance to be sure because then he’s bending down to pick up his shirt before he’s standing—he’s already wiped the expression from his features completely by then. “sorry about that, toothless. i’ll keep my shirts off the floor next time.”
“that would be so kind of you,” you smile sarcastically.
and then you shut the door in his face and exhale as you lean against the wall.
this is going to be a longer break than you thought.
—————
the next time you run into him, it’s late at night. everyone is asleep—even your brother and his headache of a best friend, if the silence tells you anything. you can’t sleep, though, so you make your way to the kitchen to hunt for snacks. you’re skimming through the pantry before your eyes land on a surprise—a box of strawberry pocky sits nice and enticingly, right there for you to open and devour.
you grin, reaching over when—
“those are mine,” satoru calls, stepping into the kitchen, “brought them over myself. you should ask before touching people’s things.”
“you literally ate my leftovers the other night,” you say incredulously.
“those were yours? i thought they were suguru’s.” he raises a brow in surprise, making you click your teeth in irritation.
“the principle of asking still applies,” you purse your lips. and then defiantly, you open the box and grab a pack right before his eyes.
he scowls—but you know he doesn’t actually mind because he waits for you to finish grabbing yours before taking the box and grabbing his own pack and a coke from the fridge. you both take a seat at the kitchen table, across from each other, as you open the packaging and silently eat your newfound snack.
it’s satoru who breaks the silence first.
“do you still throw away the ends of these?”
you huff indignantly, not meeting his eyes as you take a bite off the strawberry-covered end, stopping at just where the cookie portion is uncoated. “yes. i’m eating these for the coating—not the bland biscuit part.”
“what’re you, five?” he snickers, earning a glare from you. defiantly, you pop the end of the pocky stick into your mouth just to prove a point—and then the look of distaste makes him cackle louder. 
“shut up,” you hiss, “you talk too much.”
“the ladies love it when i do,” he bats his lashes—you stare at him blankly, unimpressed.
“yeah, as if.”
“hey, my ex-girlfriend totally did,” he defends.
ex-girlfriend? that’s a bit of a shocker—you didn’t know satoru dated anyone in the last few years, you haven’t seen or heard anything of it through suguru’s end. in all realness, you didn’t even think satoru was the boyfriend type…but then again, he’s not really the anything type. he just kind of exists to take up space and be the bane of your existence. 
“i hope the poor girl is recovering well after dating you,” you shake your head, feigning a concerned look on your face that makes him roll his eyes—they’re still disturbingly bright even in the dark kitchen, dimly lit by the slightest bit of moonlight pouring in through the small window.
“i dated her freshman and sophomore year,” he says casually. you also didn’t expect that—that it lasted that long. something about satoru doesn’t strike you as the long-term relationship kind of guy. something about him doesn’t seem like the relationship kind of guy at all. not because he’s the type to mess around casually, but because he seems the type to seem disinterested all around—he’s snobby like that. “she was…alright, i guess.”
yeah. very snobby.
“you are such a sick bastard,” you spit.
he snorts, taking a bite of his pocky as he shakes his head in amusement. you’re as feisty as ever—it’s always fun riling you up, even if unintentionally.
“hey, it’s not like she was bad. she was just…well, she wasn’t interested in me like that either,” he shrugs, “i think it was just the sex. it was good, can’t lie there.”
“you’re so gross,” you roll your eyes, “have some decorum.”
“what, you’re still sixteen?” he raises a brow, lips curling into a smirk as he reaches for another pocky, “can’t say the word s-e-x?”
“i don’t broadcast my sexual activities out in the open,” you shrug.
satoru chuckles, taking a bite that more or less finishes the entire stick in one go before he presses a finger to his lips, “shh. don’t say that too loud—suguru will come chase you from his room if he hears.”
“suguru,” you groan, “he’s such a pain to have around sometimes. y’know i dated this one guy last year. i think suguru might’ve paid him to dump me.”
“i know. he definitely thought about it,” satoru hums, “he used to go off about it all the time. he was right, though—that guy was a total prick.”
something about you is mildly shocked that satoru knows about your private life—sure, it’s not outrageous or even the slightest bit unlikely that suguru mentions you. satoru and suguru are best friends, and you happen to be suguru’s sister—of course, suguru is bound to mention you here and there. it’s just the fact that satoru even pays attention to anything to do with you that surprises you—although you suppose it would be a good way for him to find his next source to push your buttons.
“i’m not surprised you think he’s a prick,” you nod, “it takes one to know one, after all.”
“oh yeah?” he snorts, waving you off, “i do, in fact remember anniversaries, y’know.”
“okay,” you sigh, defeated—your ex-boyfriend is admittedly not at the top of the list of your brightest choices. not even up halfway on the list. in fact, he’s so low on the list of good choices you’ve made, that willingly choosing to interact with satoru feels like an exceptional decision in comparison. and that’s saying something. “he was pretty bad. but he was really hot. when a guy looks like that, his values are the least of my worries.”
it’s a joke—you’re sure he knows that. but satoru takes a long sip from his coke, silent for a moment. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so serious, especially so suddenly.
“he can’t be that hot,” he mutters.
“oh he was really hot. probably the hottest guy i’ve ever talked to—” satoru bites his pocky a bit aggressively at that, “and he was so tall. maybe taller than you—how tall are you again? anyway, he was pretty enough to overlook his shortcomings.”
“he’s probably not taller than me,” he grumbles, frowning. you snort—men and their fragile little egos, you think in amusement.
“he was,” you tease, “he was so tall, i’d let him do whatever he wanted.”
“that’s a terrible way to look at it,” he scrunches his brows, “you shouldn’t let some guy walk all over you because he’s tall and his face is a bit easy on the eyes—”
“i know you’re not talking—”
“i’m serious,” he cuts you off. something about him reminds you of suguru for a moment—like he cares who you’re with because he has a reason to. as if you mean something to him, as if knowing someone who doesn’t deserve you has you in their palms is upsetting.
but then you shake the thought out of your head—satoru doesn’t care. he’s never had a reason to, and you don’t exactly plan to give him one, either.
“okay, dad,” you roll your eyes, “i learned my lesson. i have standards now.”
“good,” he nods—and then, as if to keep himself in character, he adds, “because i don’t want to help suguru kill someone, and it’s over something lame like forgetting his little sister’s anniversary. i’d like to go to jail for something more badass.”
“you and badass don’t belong in the same sentence,” you raise a brow. “let’s be realistic.”
“oh yeah? that’s rich coming from—”
“guys, it is five in the morning,” suguru grumbles, throwing a water bottle at satoru’s head. you glance at the kitchen entrance, eyeing a half-asleep and very irritable suguru as he crosses his arms, “can’t you idiots fight over who’s more of a loser at reasonable hours? some of us like to sleep.”
“want one?” you offer your pack of pocky, holding it out to him.
suguru blinks, contemplating for a second before sighing and trudging over.
“yeah,” he mutters, flicking your forehead. “gimme that.”
you watch woefully as suguru takes the entirety of your pack, swiftly sitting next to satoru and leaving you empty-handed. satoru snickers obnoxiously at the deflated look on your face—and then he holds out his pack to you.
you look between him and the pack for a moment before giving him a genuine smile. it’s a rare sight—he drinks it in as you carefully take one and bicker over something with suguru.
you’re pretty when you smile, he thinks—pretty enough that if you had horrible values (which you don’t), he might feel inclined to understand your (awful) reasoning for a moment.
and then he blinks and shakes the thoughts out of his head—it’s going to be a long break.
—————
satoru meets you when you’re six. 
he’s nine at the time, and he feels on top of the world knowing he’s three whole years older than you—in hindsight, three years is not a very large gap, but to nine-year-old him, it feels like centuries. he’s remembered you as the fun little drama queen that’s too easy to poke fun at for years—that’s all you’ve always been: suguru’s younger sister who puffs her cheeks out and scowls way too often to be normal, the girl that’s way too easy to tease than should be standard. 
somehow, he wasn’t expecting for you to come back so grown…and so hot. suddenly, it really hits him that you’re not a kid—have not really been for a long time now. he’s always treated you like you’re way younger than he is, way too little to be in his presence and be worthy of it—but you’ve really become a fine young woman.
a magnetizing one, in fact.
it’s now his third night at your house—your parents are as lovely and welcoming as ever, and suguru is always a good time to be around. but somehow, satoru is not satisfied. not anywhere near sated by the few, minimal moments of contact with you. 
when did you get so pretty? although, as much as satoru has always liked to poke fun at you, you’ve never been ugly. not even a little—but you’ve grown into your features better, outgrown the awkward teenage era of your life, and now present yourself with a newfound confidence that just looks…so good. satoru doesn’t see his best friend's kid sister anymore—no, there’s something so alluring about you now.
the nail on the coffin that solidifies he’s officially screwed is when you mention your ex-boyfriend—why would your dating life make him this irrationally angry? why is the thought of someone being on the receiving end of your praise (and shameless heart-eyes) so aggravating for him? 
he doesn’t know—but what he does know is that the raging boner has been killing him all morning ever since he woke up from…well, less than proper dreams about you.
so now he’s here, forehead pressed against your shower wall as the hot water hits his back, swollen cock in his fist as he thumbs at the tip, teasing the slit just the way he likes. he thinks about you—how he’d show you what makes him feel good, how you’d probably learn fast and take care of him just the way he needs. 
your hand would look so much daintier compared to his—smaller, but he’s sure it would still feel infinitely better. 
he bites his lip, fighting back a moan as he strokes himself slowly, pre cum smeared along the length of his hard, aching cock—red and angry at the tip, leaking with more pre cum no matter how many times his thumb collects every drop. 
“f-fuck—” he breathes, and his voice lets out a shaky, breathy little call of your name—he’s screwed if anyone hears it. he’s sure you and suguru will both band together to kill him, but thankfully, the words are lost in the sound of the shower running. “fuck baby,” he says hoarsely, voice cracking ever so slightly as he whines. 
it’s soft and quiet, the noises he makes—careful and deliberately hushed to make sure no one hears the improper way he’s thinking of you right now. but fuck, your tits are so pretty when you walk out of your room in a t-shirt in the mornings—he can just tell you’re not wearing a bra. he can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop trying to picture what they’d look like uncovered and bouncing.
“jus’ like that, baby,” he pants, whimpering softly as he squeezes around his tip, teasing himself with that slow, painful pace of his. 
satoru is sure that if it were you, that if the hand stroking his cock right now was yours, you would never let him cum so easily—you’d drag it out just like this, pump him slowly and twist your hand around him in a pace that’s painfully not enough before ever thinking about letting him come undone. 
it’s just the way that you are—never ready to back down from a challenge, unwilling to go down without a fight. but he loves it, he thinks—lives for the way you keep him on his toes and work for the satisfaction. 
“more,” he gasps, “n-need more—gimme more, sweetheart.”
he imagines it—the way you’d kiss his jaw, maybe even the corner of his mouth, as you hum. say please, toru, you’d probably say—and fuck, he’d kill to hear you say toru. 
“please,” he rasps, “please, baby. d-don’t tease.”
he can practically hear your light giggles, the sweet, okay, baby. no more teasing, that you might whisper. he’d also kill to hear you call him baby—he’s almost nauseous at the idea that some other guy must’ve heard the pet name from your lips before him. and then he lets himself pump his erection faster, squeezing tighter as his thighs quiver while he stands in the shower. 
fuck—you feel so good. you’re not even here, but he’s sure you do, and he’s desperate to envision it. it practically hurts—the way he’s so hard and swollen and ready to release. just for you, he wants to tell you, he’s going to cum all for you. 
“baby,” he whimpers, “‘m so, so close—fuck ‘m gonna cum. ‘s for you—gonna cum for you—ngh, sh-shit.”
and then there’s cum on the tile walls, on his hands, on his abs as they flex with every labored breath. satoru cums—hard. his eyes are squeezed shut, lips parted with a silent cry as he pants and strokes himself through his high. you’d kiss him, he likes to think, on his jaw and cheeks and maybe the tip of his nose as you sit on his lap and work him through his orgasm. you’d watch him closely, take in the way he comes undone for you, maybe even call him your pretty boy as he paints your hand white with his seed.
would you praise him? murmur softly into his ear and seal the gentle words with a kiss to his skin? would you stroke his hair from his face as you admire his blissful, fucked out little expression? maybe he’d ask you then—maybe he’d ask you to admit he’s way more handsome than that douchebag you dated as your hand holds his softening cock, sticky with his release.
god, what he wouldn’t do to see your hands coated with his cum—did you do this for your ex? did he look as hot as you claim he was when he came for you? the thought makes him sour—he grits his teeth and clenches his jaw at the idea, panting and catching his breath as he stares down at the mess he’s made.
he should feel bad—this is wrong. so, so wrong—suguru would kill him if he was aware satoru was lusting over his little sister. but it felt so fucking good—he’s never cum as hard as when he’s pictured cumming for you. 
it can’t be that wrong, if that’s the case—can it?
——
“suguru,” your voice is shrill, deadly—like you’re out for blood. “next time you jack off in the shower, maybe clean the fucking wall? are you joking?”
“wha—i definitely cleaned that,” suguru defends. 
oh, fuck, satoru thinks—he forgot to clean that. so he makes himself very scarce and stays within the confinements of suguru’s bedroom—his messy habits are starting to really catch up to him. if his defense, he really would clean that up…it’s just that he was a bit distracted. 
“so you admit you jack off in our shower? our shower?” you sound inconsolable, downright devastated, and borderline hysterical. having siblings seems like a lot of trouble, he thinks—but then again, sometimes satoru is jealous of your bond with suguru. it’d be nice to have someone in his family he can actually depend on. “keep that shit for your bedroom, you jackass!”
“well, how am i supposed to do that when satoru is there? you tell me.”
“i don’t know! figure it the fuck out—you guys probably jack off together anyway.”
“what?” suguru sounds appalled, “we do not—that’s outrageous.”
“whatever,” you say—you sound almost murderous as you warn, “next time you better clean up your fucking mess, you asshole.”
satoru can’t help but smile a little—your pointer finger is definitely held up as you scold suguru—you’re so cute when you’re mad, he thinks. he almost wants to step out and catch a glimpse, but he decides against it for now.
silently, satoru thanks his best friend for taking one for the team—even if it was unknowingly.
—————
it’s night four. 
satoru has surprisingly kept to himself—he even promptly looked away after meeting your eyes in the kitchen yesterday morning as you walked in for breakfast. that’s…new. a lot about satoru is new. 
he’s taller and more muscular now—at one point, suguru used to tower over his scrawny little form. now he’s seemed to grow into his body, seemed to learn how to style himself better, and actually do his hair a bit. it’s still messy now that he’s just lazing around in your home—but it’s oddly handsome. 
scarily handsome, in fact. 
you don’t enjoy the idea of thinking about the jerk of your childhood like that—but ever since you felt the hard press of his chest against your back, sometimes you wonder what it’s like to know satoru outside of just your older brother’s obnoxious friend. 
maybe, somewhere along the line, had you put your pride aside and actually tried to get to know him, maybe you both could at least be friendly. but then again, there’s never been any real animosity between you two—you can share a lighthearted talk from time to time, like that night in the kitchen. 
you decide not to dwell on it too much, decide that he’s not really worth your thoughts when he’s just a guy who’s always been a bit too spoiled to learn how to be humble. instead, you go down to the kitchen to grab another pack of strawberry pocky—satoru will just have to deal with it. if he doesn’t want his snacks eaten, he shouldn’t keep them in the pantry where anyone could stumble across them.
you walk into the kitchen until—oh. it’s satoru. again.
“oh, hey,” he grins cheekily, taking a sip of his coke—he needs to break the habit of having so much sugar this late at night…but then again, why would it matter to you? “stalkin’ me?”
“for an unwelcomed guest, you sure do talk a lot,” you roll your eyes, making his lips curl into a smug little smirk. 
“i don’t know—your parents seem to love having me over. what if i become their newest son?”
“i doubt my parents are looking to adopt you,” you raise a brow, slightly amused. 
he hums, sipping his coke before blinking at you through those long, perfect lashes of his. “well, there are other ways to blend into a family. marriage, for example, is a great way.”
“you and my brother might as well marry each other,” you snort, “no one else will do it.”
“who said anything about suguru?” he winks, chuckling when your face twists into an exaggerated look of horror—always as dramatic as ever, you are. he can’t help but find an endearing side to it now.
satoru stands, walks over to where you are and stands in front of you as you scoff, shaking your head as you huff out a disbelieving chuckle. 
“that’s pushing it,” you muse, “marrying you would be the last open option i’d have left—and even then i doubt i’d ever take it.”
“yeah?” he raises a brow, leaning in so close, you can practically feel his breath fan over you. he smells like expensive cologne and your shampoo—why is he using yours instead of suguru’s? before you can even ask him what he’s doing, he throws away the empty can of coke in the trash can behind you, eyes bright with amusement as your breath hitches.
it’s like he knows—the fucking asshole.
“yeah,” you breathe, “you don’t deserve me,” you try to say matter-of-factly. it comes off a bit more breathless than you intended—the air feels suffocating. maybe because satoru is so close, maybe because his breath is on your face, maybe because all you can smell and feel and hear is him. 
you can’t find it in yourself to pull away—why aren’t you pulling away? it’s just like that day he caught you, when his arms wrapped around you and all you felt like doing was lean into his chest. what about satoru and you has shifted so quickly to make you want to do that? what makes him so easy to fall into when all you’ve always known was to shove at him?
he hums, leaning in closer and closer until his forehead touches yours. “you know who didn’t deserve you?” he asks, “that shitty ex of yours.”
you look up at him with wide eyes, speechless as his hands find purchase of your hips, grabbing them and pulling you closer—and against better judgment, your hands lay themselves across his chest. it’s as firm as you remember it. 
“how would you know—”
“heard suguru rant about it all the time,” he murmurs, “how he forgot your dates. got you a shitty birthday present. didn’t show up to your anniversary. made you hang out with his friends and didn’t even meet half of yours. you’re tellin’ me he deserves you more than me?”
“he was hot—”
“yeah? and i’m not?”
he’s cocky—you hate that about him. always did. but he’s so close, so intoxicating, so irresistible, and fuck, he is hot—so incredibly hot, you’ve been losing sleep over it the last four nights no matter how hard you try to deny it. 
“satoru, what are you—”
“y’know, i’ve been helping suguru pick your birthday presents since you were twelve. i’d pick you the best gifts,” his nose is brushing against yours now, lips just millimeters away from his as he speaks—“and i never forget an important date. i’m very punctual too, believe it or not. i’d meet your little friends—show ‘em what a catch i am when you introduce me.”
“and what am i supposed to do with this information?” you ask defiantly.
it’s a last-ditch effort—you both know this. you know exactly what he wants you to do with this information. 
“i don’t know, sweetheart,” he chuckles, “what do you think?”
and then you’re kissing him—because fuck, satoru is right there, and how could you not? his chest is under your palms, his lips are right against yours, and you can feel his thumb rub circles into your hips. 
so you kiss him—loop your arms around his neck and tug him closer and press your lips to his. he groans, responds almost instantly as his mouth molds against yours, kissing you deeper as his hand moves to cup your cheek.
your lips are softer than he thought, and his hair is silky against your fingers. you tug at the strands, grab a handful, and feel them against your fingers like you’ve wanted to for so long. and when he nips at your bottom lip, who are you to deny him? your lips part, letting his tongue slide in and taste you with a breathy sigh that makes your knees wobble. 
“s-satoru,” you stutter, whispering between kisses, “suguru might come in like last time—”
“god,” he groans, head burying into your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against the skin, “don’t fucking talk about your brother right now. please.”
“my room,” you say urgently—it’s all he needs to hear before his hands are on your ass, grabbing you as you wrap your legs around his hips. it’s urgent, the way his mouth is back on yours—he doesn’t pull away even once the entire walk to your room, not even when he lets your back fall onto the mattress as he hovers over you, pressing kisses along your collarbone. 
no bra, he notes happily, his hand sneaking under your shirt to toy with your pert nipples. 
“god, you’ve been driving me fuckin’ crazy,” he mumbles, tugging the hem of your shirt over your arms and tossing it over his shoulder. he stares, takes in the sight of the same tits he’s been fantasizing over for the last few days in awe. “you know that? been thinkin’ about these for days,” he says lowly, cupping your tit and massaging as he presses a kiss to your jaw. 
“you’re shameless,” you mutter, snorting before you cut yourself off with a gasp as he squeezes your nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers and pulling a soft whine from you.
“shhh,” he chuckles, tilting his head toward the wall next to you, “don’t want suguru to hear, do you? that wouldn’t be nice, would it?”
“it’ll be worse for you than me,” you grin, tugging at the hem of his own shirt, indicating you want it off. he grins widely, wiggling his brows and making you purse your lips.
“wanna see me shirtless again, huh? third times the charm, as they say,” he winks. you would retort with something as witty, but then your eyes fall on that tattoo again—right under his collarbone, making your hand reach out to trace it with your thumb. 
“what compelled you to get this corny little tattoo of yours,” you grin, giggling as you trace over the small infinity sign. 
for the first time, you think you witness satoru shy, blushing as he rubs the back of his neck and chuckles awkwardly. “that…that was an accident. when i got drunk for the first time.”
“oh,” you snort, “you’re so weak, satoru—”
“do me a favor, sweetheart,” he hums, cutting you off, “as much as i love when you say my name, say toru for me, yeah? i wanna hear it.”
you roll your eyes, huffing as your hand finds the back of his head and pulls him into another kiss, moaning into his mouth as he grinds the throbbing erection in his sweats over your heated core. 
“toru,” you say breathlessly, “more.”
that’s all he needs to hear—satoru doesn’t waste a second before he’s crawling between your legs, sliding your cute little pajama pants down your legs before meeting your dripping pussy.
it’s wet—so wet, he almost wants to chuckle and tease you a bit. just for old-time's sake. but the ache that shoots down to his cock reminds him that he’s in no position to tease you when he’s not faring any better himself. so he spreads your legs, kisses lightly at your clit in a feather-like touch that has you whimpering and clutching the sheets in anticipation.
“how pretty,” he mumbles, “been hiding this pretty little thing all this time. what a perfect pussy.”
“satoru,” you gasp in embarrassment, hands reaching for his hair and tugging him closer to where you need him most—equal parts because you really need his mouth on your cunt and equal parts because you really need him to shut up. 
but he chuckles, takes his time to spread your folds open with his thumbs, and watches in wonder as you flutter around nothing, arousal dripping and leaving a mess. it’s perfect—you’re perfect, and he wants to take his time with you. 
“god, you’re soaked,” he groans, chuckling as he murmurs, “that’s fuckin’ cute.”
before you can even whine at the way his words are shameless, his mouth is back to kissing your clit, lips wrapping around it as he sucks and rolls his tongue along the sensitive bud. his fingers sink deep into you, pushing past your folds and slowly bullying into you until the tips of his fingers curl and brush against a spot that makes you squeal. 
you gasp a breathy, “fuck, toru—” before he hums around your clit, vibrations making you whimper as he thrusts his fingers back in to hit that spot again. it’s sensitive, the way he makes you feel—your nerves are on fire, and your head is light, and fuck, it feels so good you can’t help but sob brokenly and squeeze your thighs around his head. he moans against your cunt, pulling his fingers out before letting his tongue lick a stripe along your slit, tasting you with a sharp inhale. 
“f-feels good,” you whimper, biting your lip as your eyes crinkle at the corners from squeezing shut.
“yeah?” he hums, kissing your inner thigh, leaving a wet little sheen of his spit and your arousal on the skin, “that’s a good girl—just keep telling me how good i make you feel, kay?”
he could stay buried nose-deep into your pussy for as long as you let him—tongue alternating between fucking into you and rolling over your swollen clit, hearing the broken little gasps and whines of his name as you repeat toru over and over again like a prayer. his hand grips at your thigh, sinking his fingertips into the plush skin and rubbing soothingly with his thumb as you rut your hips and grind against his face. 
satoru has half a mind to watch it again—to lick and suck at your core again and again just so he could burn into his mind what you look like when you cum. it’s divine—like he’s halfway to stepping into heaven and has to pause just to admire the sight before him. 
your hips leave the mattress as your back arches, and your fingers tug relentlessly at his roots as your walls quiver, letting satoru taste every drop of your release as you press a palm to your hand and try to keep yourself from squealing at the pleasure.
suguru is right next door. you can’t wake him—can���t let him know this is what you and his best friend get up to in the late hours of the night. 
it’s not until satoru pulls away, catching his breath as he wipes the wet trail on his chin does he realize how hard he is—how badly he’s aching as his cock strains against his sweats. he hisses as he frees himself; ridding his sweats and boxers and wrapping a large hand around the tip of his erection and smearing the leaking pre cum along his length. 
you watch in awe, reaching over and replacing his hand with yours. satoru was right—your hand is infinitely smaller than his, and yet, it feels a great deal better. so much better, in fact, that his arms shake as he hovers over you, burying his head into your neck and groaning as you slowly stroke him, squeezing at the tip and rolling your thumb through the slit.
he didn’t even have to show you what he wanted, what makes him feel good, what makes his mind fog with pleasure and burn through every nerve. no, you figure it all out on your own, pulling strangled moans and hushed gasps from him that make your clit ache once more. 
“fuck, baby,” he pants, “can’t last long like this—c’mon, g-gotta feel you.” gently, he pries your hand from his thick, pulsing cock, laying it against your stomach as he peers down in fascination. “i’ll be right here,” he hums, drawing a line on your skin right where his tip ends, “see that? that’s where you’ll feel me, sweetheart.”
“then let me feel you,” you murmur, cupping his cheeks and brushing a thumb over the skin, “fuck me, toru—wan’ it so bad.”
so he does—drags his tip along your folds and collects the slick pooling at your entrance before pushing his tip past your folds, splitting you in half as he slowly buries himself to the hilt. his jaw is clenched, breath labored as he waits for you to adjust, lets you kiss his cheeks and nose as you murmur how handsome he is, how perfect he feels, how good is to you. 
“that asshole ever make you cum?” he asks lowly, “he ever eat your pussy like that? make you cum hard enough you had to cover your mouth so you’re not screaming his name?”
“no,” you breathe, quivering as his thumb rolls over your clit in slow circles, still painfully still as he stares down at you, “n-no, never. just you—only you—”
“good,” he grins, “that’s what i like to hear. and when i make you cum on my cock, make sure to tell me he’s never done that either, yeah?”
“you’re full of it,” you scoff, “always have been.”
“and you’re full of me,” he says cheekily, chuckling as you glare half-heartedly. “can i move, baby? please? need more, ‘s not enough. n-need more—”
“yeah,” you whimper, pulling him closer, chests brushing against each other as your lips meet in a sloppy kiss, “yeah—need more too, toru.”
satoru, in all his years of knowing you, has never seen the side of you that could be this gentle. the side that glides your hands over his back, feeling every flex and every pull of his muscles, gently caressing the skin like it’s holy, like it’s not worthy of marks—instead to be worshipped and revered with thoughtful touches. your lips sear into every part of him they can find—his lips, his forehead, his nose, his hair as his face digs into your neck. even your voice is a gentle whisper of his name, so soft and careful, it’s like saying it wrong could break him. 
your hips buck up in tandem with his, meeting his rhythm as he slams into you, his balls slapping against your skin as he buries his cock into you as deep as it’ll go with every harsh thrust. you can feel his tip kissing against that sweet spot in the back of your walls, your abused cunt sucking him in and hugging around him as he groans. 
the friction feels sickening, like he’ll pass out any second, like he’s floating between the precipice of pleasure and the edge of consciousness. 
you do that to him—he doesn’t know how or when or why, but you make him feel like he doesn’t have a grip on his own senses. he doesn’t mind it so much, he thinks—doesn’t hate the idea of letting himself fall into your palm and wrap around him. it feels nicer that way, like it’s where he belongs.
“fuck, ‘s so tight,” he rasps, whining into your neck as your hand cups the back of his head, holding him in place. his hips are rutting into you sloppily now, barely maintaining the rhythm from before as he nears his high—but that doesn't stop him from angling into you perfectly, slamming into your sensitive spot every time without fail. “c-cum—’m gonna cum. cum with me, sweetheart.”
“‘m so close, toru,” you sob—and then, just as his thumb finds your clit again, rubbing harsh, desperate little circles to get you over the edge, you cum again—harder than the last time, spasming around his cock and pulling him in as you squeeze around him. “t-toru,” you gasp brokenly, “fuck, ‘s good—so good.”
“baby,” he moans lowly, “fuck, you’re so perfect. prettiest thing ever—prettiest pussy ever. i, sh-shit—” your orgasm quickly has him falling into his own, hot, thick ropes of cum spilling into you with every twitch of his cock, sweet little noises pulled from his throat that he sings into your neck, fucking his load into you. 
it’s messy, the way cum spills out of you and coats his cock—but it’s perfect and feels so, so right. you can’t help but think how perfectly satoru fits against you as his body slumps on top of yours, panting and spent as he cages you in his arms.
your hand doesn’t leave his hair—now that you know how it feels, you don’t think you can stop threading your fingers through it, ever. 
“wow, toothless,” he chuckles after a bit, “you’re seriously obsessed with me, huh? i mean, how long have you been nursing this crush on me, hmm? thinking about your brother’s best friend, you naughty little thing—”
“satoru, would you shut that mouth for once,” you hiss, rolling your eyes—still, there’s an affectionate grin on your lips this time as he chuckles into your skin. 
“oh baby, i’m afraid this mouth never shuts, so you should get used—”
suddenly, you both freeze as you hear suguru’s voice through the door. “you two better not be fucking doing what i think you’re doing,” he seethes, making your jaw drop and satoru’s eyes widen.
fuck—that was never supposed to happen. suguru was never supposed to hear, let alone know.
“hey,” satoru starts, “if suguru kicks me out of our place, i can come be your new permanent housemate, right?”
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do not comment about a part 2
but yeah he can come live with me any time and as long as he pays by sucking my tiddies i shall provide all food and utilities and everything
29K notes · View notes
spideyhexx · 4 months
Note
sub!snowjanus x dom!reader where she finds them doing it together without permission and punishes them. maybe bratty!coryo idkk. ALSO I LOVE YOUR WRITING -(🍒 anon (IF ITS NOT TAKEN YET))
THAT IS ALL YOURS AND THANK YOU SM THIS IS GREAT
also ty to @goosita and @floralcyanide for talking through this concept with me and making me write this tonight instead of tomorrow <3 I popped off with this.
mdni
Coryo was well aware you told him and Sej to not fool around or even touch themselves this next week. You were busy and you wanted to have some excitement to look forward to at the end of a long and stressful week and this was the way you thought you'd get it; having a night or even a day of pleasure with your two lovers who have been built up all week. It sounded like a dream.
But Coryo is an evil little shit. You knew this. Sej knew it. Coryo knew it. But he's never attempted something as risky as this.
With only half the week gone by, he's losing his mind. He's gotten so used to your and Sej's touches that now he's spiraling without it. He doesn't even think to jack off, knowing it wouldn't feel the same.
Coryo has a different plan.
One night, he gets Sej to invite him over while you're still working. Sej is no fool. He can see it in Coryo's eyes. The way he lingers his hand on Sej's arm or how he kept bumping his knee against Sej's own as they sat in bed, talking.
While Sej usually had a lot more self-control, he has to admit to himself the week has been torturous for him too. Ever since Coryo joined your relationship, the need to satiate his desires has only heightened.
So it's no surprise that when Coryo leans in to kiss Sej, his hand moving from the boy's arm to his thigh, Sej gives in. Coryo is surprised at how quickly Sej leans into the touch, his kisses more urgent than he's ever felt them before. "She's gonna be so mad," Sej mumbles as Coryo's fingers make quick work of undoing Sej's pants.
"She's not here right now," Coryo says, in almost an irritated tone. His brow is furrowed and he smiles against Sej's lips when he wraps his hand around Sej's length, stroking it in slow, painful movements until Sej breaks, pushing Coryo down onto his back in bed.
"We have to be fast," Sej mutters, only pulling Coryo's own trousers down enough to get his cock out as he lays over the boy, pressing himself flush against him and grinding their dicks against one another.
Coryo's smirk etches deep into his face at the feeling, letting himself moan out, "fuck, finally," and Sej laughs, burying his head into Coryo's neck as he rocks his hips against Coryo.
This feeling, his blood rushing only to his dick as he gets harder, the ache burning deep within him as he feels Sej's sweaty body trembling above him, both of them so desperate after only a couple days without a release. The way Coryo was rolling his hips up against Sej to make the boy moan into his neck and the light little kisses that Sej would leave on his skin. This feeling makes it all worth it.
Even when the door opens and you're standing, your jaw about to drop at the sight.
Coryo sees you first, patting Sej's shoulder gently and he turns, going red in the face when he locks eyes with you. Coryo still has a smirk on his face and that is all you can focus on.
Without a word, you put your bag down, your coat following, and then your shoes. You take your time, knowing both of them have sat up and Sej is the first one to speak, "I'm sorry, doll, w-we were so worked up and I...we missed being able to-"
"I know baby," you coo at Sej, moving near him and cupping his face in your hands, giving his forehead a light kiss, mumbling against it, "but you still broke my rules." You feel him try to nod in your hold and his eyes shine big at you. "I'm s-sorry," he says in a hushed whisper and your eyes dart to Coryo who's sat back against the pillows.
"Sej, baby, can you go get the ties from my closet?" His eyes trail up and down your face before nodding and you let go of him, beckoning Coryo to come closer. He obeys, to your surprise and you give him a soft smile.
It almost makes him lose his demeanor because he knows by now you're not thinking of anything soft. "I take it you started this?"
He nods, not afraid to admit this to you, "What was I supposed to do? We wanted to fuck around, so we did. Your rule was pointless."
You raise a brow, a little surprised by his confidence, something you so rarely see from him in bed. "Honey, if you want to be that way-"
"What way?" His head is held high as if he's challenging you, wanting to see exactly how far you'd go.
Your smile drops a little and you lean closer to him, kissing the corner of his lips, "If you want to be a brat, I'll treat you like one. You haven't learned this yet, but I don't take these things lightly, honey." You kiss the corner of his lips again before backing away and nodding over to your desk chair.
"Go sit down there." Coryo takes a moment to listen, his eyes a little wide at your words and you can practically see the gears turning in his head, his shoulders slumping into submission, but he holds his head high again, getting up from the bed.
"Oh, and take all your clothes off?" You smile sweetly at him, it almost sickens him.
You help Sej undress after he brings the ties out for you and you lean to whisper in his ear, "Can you tie Coryo's hands tight behind his back for me? Behind the chair,." Sej follows your instructions and while Coryo scoffs, he lets him do it.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" You ignore him, sitting on the edge of your bed and undressing yourself.
Full-heartedly, Coryo thinks you're gonna be down on your knees for him any minute now. Almost every time he's in your desk chair, you're sitting between his legs on the floor with his cock down your throat, so his mind naturally wanders to that being your course of action.
Sej on the other hand has been at the mercy of your punishments before and he has a faint idea of what you plan to do to the blonde boy now tied to your chair.
"Sej, come here," you say, your voice soft and it's throwing Coryo for a loop. "You know he broke your rules too?"
"I know, honey, but I also know that you're the reason he gave in. So just sit there and look pretty, okay?" You give him another one of your sweet smiles and Coryo takes a deep breath, already starting to squirm against his restraints. You tug Sej onto the bed with you, pushing his head down before he can kiss your lips.
"No, baby. You gotta earn that back." Sej nods obediently, trailing kisses down your chest to your tummy. You lay back where Coryo once was, Sej parting your legs and looking up at you, "will this let me earn it back?"
"Mmm, yes. Good boy." He lets out a shuddered breath and kisses your inner thigh. Once. Then twice, nipping at the skin and urging your thighs to spread more. Sej repeats the same kisses to your other thigh, biting a little more against the skin and you tangle your fingers into his curls, pushing his head closer to your core.
"Enough of that," you grunt, Sej's hands rubbing from your knees up to your thighs and gripping them tightly as he presses his nose to your clit, as if he's savoring, taking in your scent. You let him hold your thighs apart, the feeling of his warm hands against your skin was too alluring, too perfect.
You told yourself you wouldn't even spare a glance at Coryo, but you do. His gaze is laser-focused on the two of you and you smirk as you see his hardened cock resting up against his tummy, his teeth seemingly biting into the skin of his inner cheek.
"Do you..." you trail off in a moan as Sej's tongue plunges into you, licking into you like you're his last meal. "Do you have something to say, Coryo?"
"I-I want to touch you," he says and you chuckle, tilting your head back with a groan as Sej presses his nose to your clit harder, your hips bucking up to grind into his face. "I don't care what you want, honey," you breathe out through little gasps, Sej's tongue fucking into you with a skill that he's only improved on every single time.
You hear Coryo hold back a whine, your cute little nickname for him sounding so filthy on your tongue as his own head tips backward in frustration. He tries to see if he can get out of the ties, but he can't. No tug or pull or twist even lets up the tightness a little bit.
"Sej, baby, you're doing so good for me, f-fuck." Sej moans against you and as his eyes meet yours, you feel yourself come undone on his tongue, his hands holding your hips down so he can lap up all of your release without you squirming too much.
When Sej moves his mouth away from you, you're tugging him up and kissing him. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, pulling his body flush against yours, cock resting, aching against you.
Coryo audibly groans, his hips squirming at the sight and he wants to lash out at you so bad. He feels it on the tip of his tongue, something mean, something so angry that he isn't even sure what you or Sej would do, but he can't say it. All he can do is watch, mouth parted as you guide Sej's dick into you, coaxing the man on top of you to bury his head into your neck, just like Coryo had done earlier.
"That's it, baby," you purr into Sej's ear as his hips slowly begin to roll into yours, the thickness of his cock inside of you starting to turn your brain into pure mush, but you regain your focus, massaging the back of his head as he groans into your neck.
"You're doing so well for me, so perfect, you just needed my cunt didn't you?" Sej whines, nodding and you feel his teeth sink into your shoulder.
"P-please," Coryo gasps out. You hear him, but don't reply, kissing the spot beneath Sej's ear and pushing his hips into you deeper with your legs.
Sej is losing his goddamn mind just as much as Coryo is, despite him being the one that gets to feel you, warm, wet, and snug against him. He wants to move faster, but his hips move easily, languidly as if he's trying to get to know every part of you all over again. He also knows you're loving leaving Coryo ignored. He can tell by the way your lips quirk against him when Coryo lets out yet another whine.
His whines feel purposeful like he's trying to make them sound as sad and needy as he can, but there is a shift that tells Sej they're becoming real. Sej longs to see how Coryo looks all tied up right now, but he forgets about that when you bite on his ear, "I know you wanna fuck me harder, baby. You earned it."
He lets out a shaky breath, keeping his head down, too afraid if he looked at your face, he'd bust on the spot. He ruts into you with more force, starting to set a frantic pace that he doesn't let up.
His pent-up desires unfold completely as he fucks into you, your legs holding him so tight, so deep.
"B-baby, please," Coryo begs a little louder, his own hips bucking up into absolutely nothing. He rarely called you that, so you spare him a look.
His cock, drippy and the tip so red makes you want to give in, but you can't. He has to learn. "Coryo, h-honey, please what?" It's hard to talk to him as Sej pounds into you, but you make do, making sure to tug at Sej's curls when he starts hitting the right spot.
"I n-need to cum so bad, please," he whimpers, his hips still moving on their own accord. That's when you see the shine of a few tears on his cheek. "Are you crying?"
He whimpers again and nods his head, closing his eyes. You laugh. A full-on laugh and Sej smiles into your neck. "Oh, my poor, honey. You can't cum."
Coryo starts to plead with you, "N-No no...I need to cum, baby, please...I need it so bad, you don't understand..."
But you shush him, "Be quiet, Sej's gonna make me cum."
You feel Sej groan, as his pace begins to falter and you feel his arms push under you, holding you so close to his body as he spills himself inside of you. You squeeze around him as your own release washes over you, your moans higher than before and you pull on his hair. Sej keeps thrusting into you as you both ride out your orgasms he leaves wet open-mouthed kisses from your shoulder, up your neck to your cheek.
He gives you a lazy smile when your eyes meet and you return it, ruffling his hair. You're lost in a daze with your lover until you hear a choked-out sob from the other end of the room.
Sej pulls away from you, his cock slipping out of you and you're met with the sight of Coryo.
His chest is heaving, his forehead sweaty and his cheeks wet as his eyes glow bluer from the tears still pricking at them.
His tummy is coated in his release, some of it still dripping down his cock and onto his balls. His dick is hardening again as soon as you make eye contact with him, crawling to the edge of the bed and standing up and Sej's release starts to drip down your thigh.
Coryo sniffs, looking up at you as you stand in front of him, "please," he whispers, his lip quivering. You run your hand through his sweaty curls and he moans at the touch alone. "I told you that you couldn't cum, honey."
"I-I know, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I couldn't stop it, I tried so h-hard. Please, believe me, I tried so hard," he rushes out his words, as a tear falls from his eye.
You look down at the cum pooling on his tummy and your chair, then look back into his eyes, "you look so pathetic, honey."
Coryo's jaw clenches and he holds in whatever noise he is about to make. "Actually, you don't look pathetic, you are pathetic." His cock throbs against him at your words and Sej chuckles from his spot on the bed.
Coryo sends him a glare and you quickly kneel onto the chair, your knees on either side of his thighs and you hold yourself above his lap.
"Don't look at my baby that way, he took his punishment." This time Coryo does let himself scoff and roll his eyes, "What punishment? Not being able to k-kiss you? How is this fair?"
His tone comes off harsh but the way he sniffles after it and the way another tear falls from his eyes has you smirking. "You needed to learn, honey. And I'm not done with you." His eyes close at that, his brow creasing, trying to think of what else you could possibly do to him.
You ghost your fingers on his cock before holding it and Coryo's hips buck up. You let him, his tip, leaking already, just shy of prodding at your entrance. "If you want to fuck me, you gotta do it yourself," you taunt, biting on your bottom lip as you lower down just a little so he can easily fuck up into you.
He stares wide-eyed and sees Sej shaking his head in amusement. You cock your head to the side, "well? Are you gonna do it, honey? It's what you wanted, right?"
Coryo whimpers, still sniffly, and nods, pushing his hips up, his cock sliding into you with ease. He's so loud, letting out strained whines and sobs, his cock so fucking sensitive and needing to release again.
He applauds your own self-control as you stay still for him, moaning when he's able fuck up deep into you. But Coryo didn't take into consideration how tiring this would be. With his hands still tied, his leg and hip muscles began to strain, already exhausted from his first orgasm. "My pretty boy, maybe if you hadn't finished before, I'd help you," you coo at him, your hands so close to touching him, but you keep them on the chair.
You don't give in at all and Coryo lets out a frustrated groan, his bottom lip between his teeth as he desperately tries to thrust his dick up into you but he can't find a decent rhythm.
"y-you're so fucking mean," he sobs, and you almost take pity on the way he's starting to cry more.
You ignore his words though, watching him with admiration as he tries to fuck you. Even though the stimulation is weak, you do eventually feel his cock twitch, and his tummy tightens, but before he can even release you lift your hips up.
"f-fuck! B-baby?" His cries were tempting still, but you were determined. You kiss his cheek, the salty taste of his tears on your lips, then move your mouth to his ear.
"If I find out you've made yourself cum over the next four days, I will do this again, maybe even meaner. I won't even let you be in the same room as me and Sej when he fucks me better than you probably can. And you and your pathetic cock can be alone and untouched for even longer. Do you understand me, honey?" You tangle your fingers in his hair and turn his head to look at you.
His eyes are glazed over, lips parted and he nods, "y-yes." You could almost feel Sej's proud look at how well you've taken control.
"good boy," you whisper and give him a gentle kiss on the lips, realizing just how much you missed kissing Coryo.
let's chat about coryo, sej, or both, here :)
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aft3rhrs · 4 months
Text
— hangman ღ
number: unknown. pt 2.
pairing: jungkook x reader
genre: strangers to lovers
warnings: dead dove, yandere, smoking, manipulation, corruption, allusions to depression and anxiety, allusions to past familial abuse, kidnapping, drugging, hints of fear kink (mind games, mentions & threats of snuff and necrophilia), allusions to cnc, mentions of stalking, angst, obsession, dub con, humiliation, praise, choking, possessiveness, outdoor sex, rough sex, dirty talk, use of triggering words in an erotic and degrading manner* (listed under the cut), creampie, mindbreak (??? a tiny bit), aftercare, mentions of murder and corpses, revenge themes, softer towards the end
*use of the word “rapist”.
masterlist
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It's been three weeks since Jungkook has started seeing you in clubs. Five weeks of silence since the last phone call. It didn't take too long for you to let your guard down, a tempting invitation for a predator like him. Were you passing time drinking, hoping he would finally come around and see where you've been hiding? Terrified of the moment fantasy bleeds into reality, but unable to resist its pull?
He didn't have to wait long to find out.
He caught when you were walking home, heart throbbing the moment he finally felt your warmth. The thick shadows of the alley concealed your bodies, and if anyone were to walk by, they'd see nothing but a pair of lovers embracing in the dark.
No one would notice the cloth damp from chloroform pressed into your mouth, or the way his voice made your frightened form soften in his arms.
"It's okay," he shushed. "It's just me, baby..."
A monster familiar was better than a beast unknown.
"I'm sorry, I just need you to take a nap. I'll take care of you. I promise."
He pressed his lips into your forehead, stroking your hair as you limped in his hold, less conscious by the minute. A kiss goodnight, marking your departure to the empty dreamland that swallowed you whole.
Jungkook scooped you up, carried you to his car, then laid you down at the back before starting the engine.
The drive was smooth, the roads long and dark, inky outlines of trees thickening as they stretched forward. The little dress you wore barely covered your legs, prompting Jungkook to turn the heating on; even if his jacket already kept you warm.
Two hours later, you began to stir.
Your eyes opened, hazy from sleep and the drug still running through your system. Your consciousness fluttered awake slowly, along with all of your senses. You registered the feeling of Jungkook's heat blanketing you, his arm tight around your waist, keeping you tucked into his chest. You registered the weight of his hand cradling your cheek, and the smell of his cologne, mingling with leather.
"Had a good nap?" He murmured, his breath tickling your lips.
You blinked a few times, taking in the dimness of his car, and then the hooded eyes staring right into yours.
As if the reality of the situation just dawned on you, you startled, an incomprehensible protest fleeing your mouth. Your body seemed too weak to fight, however, and your mind wasn't in a much better place.
Jungkook buried his face in your neck when you jumped, brushing his nose along the smooth skin.
"Sorry, baby. I know you're tired, and we haven't seen each other in so long—" he whispered. "I've been going crazy without you."
You shivered promptly, your brain still muddled and heart thumping in your chest. You had no idea what was going on, and you were afraid to find out. Pride out the window, there was no denying that fact.
"But that's why tonight's a special occasion," Jungkook continued, still whispering. He lifted his head, the tip of his nose bumping into yours. "You know I'd do anything for you. Tonight I need you to do something for me."
You swallowed thickly. You wished you had the energy to slap him, kick him, bite him; but you felt too heavy.
"Go to hell," was all you managed, raspy and weak.
Jungkook chuckled. The sound made your blood boil. Fighting back only ever seemed to encourage his depraved nature, and it was humiliating, somehow, if not utterly discouraging.
"Hell is wherever I have to live without you," he mumbled into your cheek, "and trust me when I tell you, baby, you're never getting away from me again."
Your stomach sank, reaching depths you had no idea were possible. You watched him slip away from you to get out of the car, and the cold air that poured in wasn't the only reason your legs started shaking.
Like a gentleman, he reached for your hand and helped you out, most likely aware of how weak your knees felt. He steadied you against the door, letting you take in the dense woods surrounding you, the grim sight of empty branches twisting into the autumn sky.
You tried not to let the worst scenarios flood your head, yet it was a difficult wave to hold off; and impossible to run from.
"Where are we?"
Jungkook reached into his pocket.
"Out of town, little doe."
A glimmer of silver among the dark scenery caught your attention. You found yourself going rigid, staring at the shovel laying on the damp ground.
A click had your head snapping down. The barrel of a gun brushed against your hip, tender, like a lover's touch.
"Wanna get to work?"
The world tilted off its axis, your blood running cold, ice as blue as your veins.
You were going to die.
There was a small part of you that seemed to crack at the thought, prompting tears to burn your eyes. It wanted you to cry, plead him to stop and just take you home, to bed, so you could sleep it all away.
Yet a bigger part of you felt somewhat betrayed. He touched something dark inside of you, fed it until it bloomed, and now that you were so damaged he wanted you six feet under?
Jungkook bit his lip, a meek attempt at holding back a smile.
"Don't look at me like that. Not every girl gets to dig her own grave, you know. I even bought you flowers."
Still and silent as a statue, you didn't answer. The lump in your throat was too thick, the static in your head growing louder.
Jungkook leaned in, his gun languidly caressing your hip and plush lips teasing your ear.
"Here's your noose, baby. Are you ready for it?"
Your noose...
Were you supposed to trust him with it?
You were walking forward before you realized it, fists clenched and steps unsteady. You could have spent hours running through the woods, and you still wouldn't be able to escape him. Whether this was a sick game or your last night breathing, there was no denying that fact, either.
"You know what?" you snapped, grabbing the shovel, "I would rather die than spend another minute here with you."
You still tried to blink your tears away, refusing to give him the satisfaction, the last shreds of your dignity. You shoved the sharp edge of the tool into the earth, your vision blurred.
"I would rather die than ever see you again."
You were too busy throwing away the dirt, then digging in to gather more, to notice the way Jungkook's jaw tensed.
"I would rather be in the ground, than be around a psycho freak like you!"
The louder your voice rose, the more your throat ached, tears spilling over despite all your efforts. You continued to dig, completely disregarding seeing Jungkook walking towards you.
"Wow. I would watch your mouth if I were you, honey," he warned lowly, stopping a few inches behind you.
The shovel struck the earth again, a chill crawling down your spine.
"Ever gotten off to snuff porn?"
You froze, wide eyes staring into the ruined ground before you.
Jungkook ran his finger down your back, making you shiver.
"Well, I haven't. But I might start soon, with my personal little movie star, if you're not gonna be a good fucking girl."
The implication had your mouth instantly shut. You couldn't bear to turn around and look at him, or even run. Rooted to the place you stood in, withering away, like the trees that trapped you.
Jungkook snaked his arms around your waist, the gun still in his hand, flat against your abdomen.
"I don't like it when you lie, baby," he muttered, placing a kiss on your neck.
Your head was spinning strangely, shallow breaths leaving your lungs.
"Bet your pussy's wet. Probably been wet since I grabbed you. Bet it's clenching right now and you can't stand it, so you choose to be a fucking bitch... As always."
He kissed your neck once more, hot and breathy against your skin. Your knees almost buckled.
"You're so fucking dirty. Do you want me to snuff you out? Hmm?"
It was disgusting, the filth he spouted, the way he pressed himself closer to you, hard beneath his jeans. The way your tummy churned was worse, heat radiating on your skin despite the insistent brushes of the frigid wind.
"Want me to fuck you into that grave?"
You couldn't stop the tears, silent and hot, flowing in tandem with the slick sticking to your underwear. You still felt drugged out, your outburst doing nothing but leaving you hollow. Tiredness was beginning to take over, numbness spreading through your bones.
Maybe Jungkook was right. You were no better than him; aggression remaining your only self defense when you were left vulnerable. But now that it has faded, a quiet, devastating acceptance was starting to settle in.
You hated him — because you hated yourself. You wanted to be normal, to heal from the things that broke you. And every attempt ended in failure. Instead of encouraging you to try again, or critizing, Jungkook was the only person who wanted you as you were. In pieces.
He didn't mind getting cut on the shards. In fact, it seemed he'd be ecstatic to bleed for you, offer you everything he had. Toxic and twisted, no end to his devotion.
"Keep digging," he said hoarsely, then took a step back.
Like he was trying to stay in control.
You obeyed, sniffling quietly as you bent down to pick up the shovel.
He told you once that not everyone was made for this world; and you clearly weren't, but that was okay... because you were made for him. That you could keep trying to fit in and keep failing if you wanted — or let him in.
You didn't, and he crept inside anyway; a tender violence.
At this point, you didn't care much if you died or not. At least everything would be over. In the end, you didn't have much to wake up for.
Jungkook lit up a cigarette. He drank in the sight of sweat shining on your skin in the dim light of the moon, the shift in your demeanor as you continued digging.
"Easy," he called, blowing out smoke. "Don't hurt yourself, darling. That's my job. It doesn't need to be that deep."
You ignored him, no longer in the mood to talk. Or to provoke him any further, for that matter. Your arms almost trembled as the hole in the ground grew deeper, whether from strain or nerves, it was hard to tell. The thought of your body laying in the dirt, cold and forgotten, felt both unsettling and peaceful. As though nothing mattered anymore.
Jungkook watched you struggle, fingers stiff around the shovel, and yet you kept going, the scattered pile of dirt behind you increasing. He was pissed off, but finishing his cigarette soothed the fire, while noting how pale you've begun to turn put it out altogether.
He threw the bud away and jumped off the hood of his car to make his way towards you. His hand settled on your waist, pulling you up, while the other took a hold of the shovel.
"That's enough," he murmured, dropping it aside with a small thump. "Good girl."
You let yourself melt into death's arms.
Your head lolled to the side, exposing the expanse of your neck, unconsciously giving Jungkook the access he wanted. He kissed the tender flesh, squeezing your hips, still hard and hot beneath his jeans.
"The end is always a new beginning, baby."
You sighed, mascara wet and heavy on your lashes. Gently, Jungkook turned you around to face him, wiping the dark streaks from your face.
"I love you so much," he breathed into your lips.
His body was solid against yours. Your only source of warmth. Dizzy, you barely had the chance to glance up at him before he kissed you, swallowing your shaky exhale.
You let out a mellow squeal when his hands traveled down your legs, gripping your thighs to lift you with ease. For the first time you found yourself clinging to him, kissing him back with equal hunger instead of denial. You wanted to forget the world around you, the grave you've dug for yourself, much earlier than tonight.
Jungkook took a step, then another, before giving up entirely and lowering you down beside it, disconnecting your lips from his only the moment he hovered above you.
Pupils blown out, inky hair messy, he cupped your cheek, his heart thumping right against yours.
"Are you scared?" He asked softly, his thumb still wiping at your tears.
You stared up at him, trying to hold on to reality, but as always, your grip was slipping, and he was the only lifeline you had left. He stirred up the muddy waters in your heart, agitated the unbridled, starving things within their depths.
"Is this a punishment?" you found yourself uttering, barely a whisper.
Jungkook cocked his head to the side, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips.
"Mm, not really. Just a little game, to end all the others. And start something new."
You didn't know what to think or feel anymore, your hair splayed out on the ground, so cold beneath you, Jungkook's heat bleeding into your skin from above, and the world spinning.
You smacked his arm when he dipped down to mouth at your neck again; drained, the distorted hands under the water still reaching to pull him under with the remnants of your anger. He laughed, as though he found it adorable, immediately grabbing your face to kiss you again.
He didn't hesitate for a second, unzipping his jeans with one hand, and you could feel your core quiver against your better judgement. It was surprising to find that there was still some clarity left in you; or maybe it was easier to make peace with death than with the fact that you were your own traitor.
"Want me to fuck you in it?" Jungkook breathed, forcing your thighs apart.
You couldn't help the way your gaze fell down to his inked hand, wrapped around his cock. He tapped it against your inner thigh impatiently, precum wetting your skin. You clenched around thin air, spine tingling.
"The grave," he clarified, smirking.
The words finally hit you, and you shook your head, your hands frantically pushing at his chest.
"No!" you cried out, nails almost slashing the skin of his neck.
Jungkook grunted, pushing back, leaning his entire weight on you to put an end on your antics. Your breath hitched when you felt his fingers dip inside your underwear, pulling it aside abruptly. He didn't comment on how drenched the flimsy material was. The moment you were exposed, he was pushing inside you, incapable of focusing on anything but the warmth of your cunt.
The small hole stretched so nicely to accommodate him, fluttering around his cock. He groaned into your mouth, and your thighs shuddered around him, a restless heat boiling deep in your gut.
"You're so wet," he moaned, pulling back to feel the ring of muscles clench against his flushed tip, trying to suck him back in.
He shivered at the feeling, then proceeded to fuck himself in and out of you like he needed; like you both did. Hard.
"You're a filthy fucking minx, I shouldn't ask you anything unless I'm inside you. Your pussy won't lie to me, hm?"
Despite the whines he coaxed out of your throat, you shook your head, every wet slap of his cock thrusting in and out echoing through the woods. Imprinting on your brain.
"Oh yeah? How about we rewind a little, baby?"
He fucked you faster, angling his hips to find that little spot that made your mouth fall open. He wasn't going to go easy on it, or on you, chasing the high.
"What's gotten you so soaked?" He managed, panting. "Did you like the thought of me snuffing you out?"
Cheeks aflame, a choked out protest; and yet your pussy was getting tighter, soaking the thick grith pounding into it.
Jungkook let out a sound akin to a whimper, eyebrows scrunching.
"Fuck, I know you did," he leaned his forehead on yours, feeling his cock throb. "I know how much you want my cum, screaming or dead or asleep. And if I could live without you, baby, I'd do it for you, keep you so full of me."
A revolting insinuation; but you couldn't tell the difference between nausea and an approaching orgasm making your stomach twist.
Jungkook's lips inched towards yours, a deep groan rumbling out.
"That's it. Let it go. Let it all go, angel."
This was the way he wanted you to fall apart; on his big cock, tasting the kind of euphoria nothing and no one but him could offer. He felt his balls tighten, heavy as they slammed against you, almost ready to spill everything he had.
"Mm—" a sigh, a pause, hips grinding as his hand clutched your neck, feeling your pulse jump. "Yeah."
A drop of sweat slipped down his temple. Beautiful, with a mouth that dripped depravity, he might as well have had two horns growing out of his head, a forked tongue hidden under the illusion of humanity.
He resumed his ruthless pace, unwilling to let you look away, dissociate from him. In fact, the way you squirmed under him, succumbing to the rush, pliant and loud as you cried, had him choking you harder, crushing the rest of your pride.
"Close?" He bit down on your lower lip, pulling on it. "What do you think your friends would say if they saw you like this?" He husked, his hand crawling up your chest. "Getting fucked out in the woods... by your stalker. Do you think they would be surprised?"
He fondled you over the soft material of the dress, focused on nothing but pumping you full of him. You felt like heaven, and your tight little cunt responded to his words, even if you didn't want to, fluttering and releasing more slick.
"They shouldn't be," he swallowed harshly, watching your eyes fall closed. "They don't know you at all. Don't know how much you like this cock forcing you open."
For the first time that night, it was clear that your thighs weren't trembling from fear. That greedy pussy wasn't letting him go, and Jungkook was tipping towards the edge, no filter on his thoughts anymore.
"But I know," his head fell into your neck, a hot mumble striking your skin. "You're such a good girl, such a good fucking girl, and such a dirty fucking whore, just for me— aaahhh, fuck."
There it was; his favorite way of getting to you. Kissing, biting and licking at your monsters until they'd submit, recognizing him as one of their own. His cock liked it too, the way you fell to pieces under him, back arched and hands digging into his shoulders.
"I feel you, baby," he groaned, "knew you'd cream my cock. That's all you can think about, isn't it?"
You whimpered, delirious, though it still sounded like a 'no', a cute, little lie to ward off your guilt. For some reason, it turned Jungkook on more. He lifted his head and sucked at your lower lip, rutted into you harder.
"Go on, baby," he breathed, "cream it. No need to be shy, you're already mine."
A trail of sloppy, possessive kisses marked your neck, electricity trickling through your spine.
"My prettiest baby, my only girl," Jungkook babbled drunkenly. "Go on, do it for me. Yeah..."
Eyes dark, locking on yours, his voice lowering to a shaky whisper.
"Come on your rapist's cock."
You unraveled like his word was holy, clamping down on him and ripping a hoarse moan out of his throat. He fucked you through it anyway, too close to the edge to stop his own fall; his cock throbbed, long spurts of hot cum filling your ruined hole, so deep and so good his eyes rolled back.
He swore filthily, knees like cotton and his hand digging into your throat, staking his claim, the rush too sweet not to let it linger. It flowed through his entire body, pulsing and warm, like the sun. It flowed through yours too, imploding, and wiping out the rest of existence. As far as you were aware, Jungkook was all that was left.
You didn't feel anything else; not the passage of time, nor the cold air grazing your arms. Only his lips, leaving kiss after kiss on your face, muttering praises you could barely make out with your mind numbed out.
You weren't sure how long you've spent laying there, his cum leaking out of you, bones like jelly and skin sticky. At last floating in the dark, like fog, and still being kissed all over, your flesh existing only where his lips touched.
By the time he pulled you up, you didn't have the capacity to wonder what was going to happen next.
So why were you crying again?
You even didn't notice until Jungkook sat you on the hood of his car, cupping your cheeks.
"No more, baby," he pleaded. "Relax. I've got you."
You were so tired.
You wished you could lie down and sleep, but Jungkook reached for the hem of your dress, inching it up.
"I'm gonna need this."
Your heart flipped. Still, you were too out of it to protest or ask why.
Goosebumps flooded your skin as he took the clothing off you, gently, leaving you in nothing but your underwear.
As if shutting down, you stayed there; once again, unmoving. You listened to the trunk pop open, stuck on the odd rustling sound that followed. A loud thud came, making you flinch.
Then, more rustling.
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jungkook dragging something towards you, a faint, unpleasant smell of blood reaching your nose.
Your stomach turned.
You stared at the bag, and he stared at you, unceremoniously dropping your dress on the wrapped up corpse.
Perhaps it was the way you gasped that had him reaching out, the same hands that took a life massaging your bare sides to comfort you.
"Close your eyes for the next part, baby," he whispered.
His nose brushed against yours. You felt your lower lip tremble, but still did as he asked.
"Good girl," he praised.
Frowning, you attempted to make some sense of what was happening, attempted to keep your heart from jumping to your throat.
It did anyway.
Sensing your distress, Jungkook kissed your lips.
"Remember a girl called Jia?"
No more pounding, or skipping beats. Everything seemed to come to a halt, including your heart.
Jungkook squeezed your waist. His voice remained quiet, a ghost in the wind.
"Not a pretty sight."
Inhale.
Exhale.
He took a hold of your trembling hand, leaving a loving kiss on each knuckle.
"Tonight, you die, baby," he murmured, the next kiss landing on your temple. "And nothing bad will ever happen to you again. Just you and me, yeah?"
The tears that fell were different now. Something broke. But it felt like release.
The soothing warmth of his hands vanished, and you kept your eyes closed. Even as the bag rustled and the stench got worse, even as another thud echoed through the empty woods.
How did he know?
Somehow, it still surprised you. Somehow, you couldn't bear to disobey him as he filled the grave you dug up, burying the biggest nightmare of your past. The so called family that had torn your life and soul apart.
There was no doubt in your mind that if he found her, he found him, too.
You listened to the metal dig into the earth again, dirt gathering on top of her corpse. Clad in your dress, butchered, rendering her unrecognizable. Teeth, face, hands — ruined. Jungkook had thought of everything, it seemed. A perfect crime.
The only traces of DNA left? Yours. Whatever still lingered on that little black dress.
As of tonight...
You were were dead.
Jungkook threw the shovel away, huffing, then made his way back towards the car. He heaved a sigh and pulled you in, held you close, sheltering you from the rest of the world.
Your fingers wrapped around the fabric of his sleeve, squeezing.
He acknowledged the gesture by kissing the top of your head, eyes closed. There was no rush, really, besides the longing to finally take you home and get into bed to sleep.
No more games. No more pain.
The end was always a new beginning.
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907 notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 13 days
Note
hii! I was wondering if you could write something about James meeting reader for the first time when he finds her crying at a party or something? and just takes the time to comfort her and get to know her?
Idk that idea just came to me and I think it’s so sweet and adorable 😭🙏🏼
Thank you for requesting lovely!
cw: alcohol
James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 1.2k words
You thought you came in here to be alone, but it’s just like a boy to come and ruin your plans. And just like James Potter to be drawn to the sound of your weeping like a superhero towards sirens. 
“Hello?” You cover your mouth with a hand as the bedroom door creaks open. “Is someone in here?” 
You recognize the voice even robbed of its usual levity, cautiously softened for your benefit. Your stilted breaths continue puffing out of your nose despite your attempts to be quiet, and James’ footsteps come closer. 
“Hey,” he says, crouching in front of you, “you alright?” 
“Mm-hm,” you hum pitchily. Your shoulders shake silently as tears continue gushing out of you. 
James’ forehead creases. “What’s wrong, love?” 
Your bottom lip wobbles at his concern, but you stay strong. “Nothing.” You wipe your cheek with the butt of your palm. “M’fine.” 
“Well, that’s good to hear.” He offers you a smile. The effect, you know, is dizzying when you’re sober, so you’re not too frightened when it works the same now. “Would you like a tissue?” 
You nod, and James reaches for the nightstand behind you. He pulls open the top drawer, one hand protecting your head from bumping into it, and procures a box of tissues. You take it from him, holding it in your lap. 
“How did you know where to find that?” 
“This is my best mate’s room,” he says. “Sirius. I’m James, by the way.” 
You blow your nose. “I know. I know who Sirius is, too.” 
“Yeah?” James grins. You fold the tissue and start wiping under your eyes. It does nothing to erase the mascara tracks already running down to your chin, but James doesn’t think telling you that will help anything. “He’ll be happy to hear that. I know you, too, though I don’t think we’ve had the chance to speak before.” 
“Sorry,” you say, patting the floor beside you for your drink. James subtly moves it beneath the bed. “I’m usually better to be around, I think.” 
“I don’t know,” he replies, “I’m having a good time hanging out with you.” 
You snort. “You must have a low bar.” 
James’ eyebrows raise, surprised mingled with amusement. “Can I ask you something?” 
You’re feeling for your drink again, not having processed its absence. “Um, sure.” 
“How’d you end up in here?” 
Immediately, your doleful mood returns. “Kayla’s mad at me.” 
“Kayla Chapman?” James tries to catch your gaze again as you nod at the floor. “Why’s that, darling?” 
“Sh—she—” Your lip wobbles again. When you don’t take a new tissue yourself James does it for you, pressing it into your hand. “We were together, and she was talking to this guy, and then she just disappeared,” you say while blowing your nose. “And she’d been drinking, so I was worried, you know?” 
You look to James for approval, and he nods. 
“Right, you didn’t want her to get taken advantage of.” 
“Exactly! So I had to look for her forever, I was totally panicking, and when I found her I tried to ask if she was okay and she said—” your voice cracks “—I embarrassed her. She was s—so angry with me.” 
“Oh, sweetheart.” James’ hand lands on your shoulder as you hunch over your lap. He rubs it consolingly. “I’m sure she’ll feel differently tomorrow. You were only trying to look out for her.” 
“She won’t,” you cry, having long forgotten your reservations about doing so in front of James Potter. “And she was the only person I knew here, so now I’m all alone.” 
“Well, that’s not true, is it?” He continues rubbing your shoulder steadily, as if comforting drunk girls at parties is something he does every night. It might be, you don’t know. “You know me.” 
You sniffle. “I meant my only friend.” 
“What, you don’t think of us as friends?” James sounds appalled. “I’m wounded, sweetheart. I thought we were getting in some quality bonding here.” 
You miss the humor in his voice completely, looking up at him through still-glossy eyes. “Are we friends?” 
“I’d like to be.” 
“Why?” 
James' expression does something funny. “Do you ask everyone who wants to be your friend that?” You tilt your head, unsure how to answer, but he goes on. “I like you. You try to keep your friends from being assaulted and you’re clearly conscious of your use of paper products—” You follow his gaze as he glances pointedly at the two tissues you’ve been folding to use over and over again “—what other qualities does a person need?” 
Your lips quirk just a little. James’ smile blooms all over again for seeing it. “You’re really nice,” you tell him. “I mean, I knew you were, s’what everyone says, but it’s still good in person.” 
A little laugh sputters out of him, but James doesn’t quite know how to respond to that. 
“I’m tiresome,” you warn him gravely. “You’ll get sick of me.” 
“I know we’ve only just met,” he replies, still smiling in that always-sunny way of his, “but I don’t really see that happening. I’ll be sure to let you know if it does.” He regards you for a moment. Your face is a mostly dried-up watershed of makeup and snot, collecting to a point around your chin, but James is happy to note no fresh tears seem prepared to spill. “Would it make you feel any better if we cleaned your face up a bit?” 
You blink and touch your fingertips to your face, brow scrunching when they come away sooty. “Oh,” you say. “That would be nice.” 
“I’ll be right back.” 
James takes your drink with him, grateful you don’t seem to notice as he dumps what remains in Sirius’ sink and tosses the cup in the bin. When he returns with a washcloth dampened with warm water, you’ve leaned your head against the side of the mattress and are staring into the middle distance. You still look heart-wrenchingly sad. James wonders if your friend is anywhere near as inebriated as you, and whether she realized that by leaving with that guy she was leaving you like this. Whether it was really you who needed to be looking out for her or the other way around. 
“Back.” His voice comes out quieter than he intends, reduced to nearly a whisper at the sight of your pensive state, but your eyes lift to his anyway. You raise your head as one corner of your mouth tilts upwards. It’s a greeting and, in James’ opinion, a decided improvement. 
He squats in front of you, palming one side of your face. “Close your eyes, love.” 
James has always made fun of Sirius for his “angsty towels,” but he sees their true purpose now; your makeup hardly shows on the dark material. He swipes it over your skin gently, extra careful around your eyes. 
“This is really nice of you,” you say. James decides not to let you know you’ve already expressed this sentiment. “This is, like, best friend level of niceness.” 
“Best friend,” he repeats, delighted. “Well, if I’d known I was going for the promotion, I would’ve gone above and beyond. Lavender oils on the washcloth and everything.” 
“Mm, you earned it on your own, though.” 
James grins. Your eyes are closed, but you’re smiling too.
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shawtuzi · 9 months
Note
I need one with eren talking you through it, when its ROUGH (...and maybe a daddy kink)
ouuuu…..i like the way you think (i made this a plug!eren drabble bc i miss him)
cw include: black fem!reader, bratty reader like real bad, it’s a little angsty but y’all already know i cant resist a happy ending, levi makes the briefest appearance i don’t even mention his name lmao (he’s the supplier), eren is pretty rough, spanking, pain play??? idk man, unprotected sex, daddy kink, overstimulation, spitting, choking, lots of dirty talk, reader eventually passes out from the overstimulation but don’t worry there is aftercare///NOT PROOFREAD
“how much longer ren m’so bored,” you sighed leaning your head against the window. eren looked at the gps on his phone muttering out, “should be there in ten more minutes.” he made a mental note to drive a little more carefully so you wouldn’t bump your head against the window, afraid that would make you more crabby than you already were.
the two of you were on the way to his suppliers house and the long drive had you crawling out of your skin, you were so damn bored. he insisted you stay home knowing you hated long drives but you being you said otherwise and joined him anyways. “ten more minutes?! i feel like we’ve been driving for hoursss,” you puffed air through your cheeks and closed your eyes hoping the next time you opened them you’d be there.
after fifteen minutes you finally made it to your destination mumbling out a ‘fucking finally’ that didn’t go unnoticed by eren. “stay here i’ll be back in a few,” he spoke softly giving your forehead a kiss before making his way into the house. another ten minutes passed and eren still hadn’t come out making your mood even more sour. you nibbled on your lip contemplating if you should knock on the door— the angel on your shoulder was telling you to stay in the car and wait patiently, maybe even apologize for being so bratty. the devil on the other hand was telling you to storm in the house and tell eren to speed up the process.
before you even knew it you were getting out of the car and knocking on the door, your bracelets jangling on your wrist as you did so. “who the fuck is it?” someone yelled from behind the door making you jump. “uhm— i’m looking for my boyfriend…eren,” you said back, feeling your heart rate begin to speed up.
a few seconds later the door swung open and there eren was, a confused look on his face. “i thought i told you to wait in the car,” he sighed trying his absolute hardest to be patient with you. you put your hand on your hip, your brows furrowing “you were taking too long and i’m ready to go.” eren grabbed your arm and yanked you in the house before shutting the door, “look i’ll be done in a few just wait her—” you interrupted eren with a sharp ‘no i wanna go now!’
eren’s face turned stoic, showing no emotion as you threw your little temper tantrum. just as you finished your bratty rant a man a few inches taller than you came out of literally nowhere and handed eren a backpack, “sorry for the wait i’ll see you same time again next week.” eren nodded and dapped the man up before ushering you out of the door, not saying a word. he was absolutely fuming meanwhile you were as happy as could be because you were finally heading back home.
the drive back was eerily silent, not even the radio was on it was almost like eren wanted you to know he was irritated with you. finally he spoke up, “why did you act like that?” he asked not taking his eyes off the road. “like what?….” you mumbled knowing good and well what he was talking about. eren let out a long sigh, clenching his jaw tightly. “like a fucking brat,” he spat out now looking over at you. it was silent for a few moments only making him more upset, “answer me y/n,” he commanded making you shrink into your seat.
you didn’t even have it in you to give him a snarky remark. it was still radio silence and that’s what finally made eren pull over on the side of the road. eren grabbed a half smoked blunt from the ashtray sitting in the center console before sparking it, not even bothering to crack a window.
“that guy is like my fucking boss y/n you know this, and you also know he doesn’t tolerate any bullshit i’ve told you this countless times. you’re lucky he didn’t see you throwing your little temper tantrum,” eren didn’t raise his voice not once but you still felt like crying from embarrassment. “m’sorry ren i was just so bored—” eren cut you off quickly holding his hand up. “i told you you’d be better off staying at our place while i went didn’t i?” you didn’t say anything instead you just nodded your head. “you insisted on coming though and when i told you to behave yourself just a for little what did you do?” he asked cocking his eyebrow. you stared down at your lap, twirling the promise ring he’d recently bought for you around your finger. “i was acting out,” you mumbled feeling a stray tear begin to make its way down you cheek, eren was quick to wipe it away though.
eren took a long hit of the blunt before setting it aside, taking your hands in his much larger ones. “hey none of that crying shit now okay? i’m not mad at you,” he said in a much gentler tone. for the first time in what felt like ages you finally looked him in the eye. “promise you aren’t mad?” you sniffled, your eyes glassy with unshed tears. he hummed pressing a kiss to the promise ring, “i promise.” eren reached over and unbuckled your seatbelt, maneuvering you onto his lap. “could never be mad at you even if i should be,” he chuckled pressing a soft kiss to the side of your head. he leaned in closer till his lips were by your ear before whispering, “but that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook.”
the rest of the drive home your heart was practically pumping out of chest as you wondered what eren planned to do with you. sure he always threatened to bend you over his lap or use you to get himself off and leave you high and dry but he never actually acted upon it. “go inside and wait in the room for me i just gotta make a call real quick,” he pressed a kiss to your trembling hand before sending you on your way. you were petrified yet confusingly excited for eren had in store for you.
‘new level’ by a$ap ferg blasted throughout the cars speakers as eren smoked away the remainder of the blunt he had. he didn’t really have someone to call he just wanted a little time to plot, smoking always brought out the creative side in him. “what am i gonna do with her?” eren hummed, bringing the blunt to his lips.
while eren was still scheming in the car, you were sitting as still as a statue on your shared bed, hands folded in your lap. you were getting a little worried when ten minutes had passed and he still hadn’t come in, but you worries were washed away when you heard the door open. eren made a pit stop at the fridge and grabbed two water bottles before making his way to your room. he had ditched the hoodie he was wearing, leaving him in his tight long sleeve shirt and sweatpants.
he stared at you for a moment, his eyes red and glassy. “take your clothes off, no talking” was all he said and you made work to rid yourself of your crop top and mini skirt. goosebumps began to cover your skin, your nipples hardening from the cool air as well.
eren slowly walked over to the bed, admiring your beauty and obedience before gripping your jaw roughly. “you’re real spoiled y’know that?” his voice held no emotion as he continued to keep your jaw in his grip, squeezing ever so softly to make your lips pucker up. you attempted to apologize, keyword attempted, but it only made eren laugh. “nah i don’t think you’re really sorry, but you will be,” he took a seat next to you on the bed and pointed at his lap. you looked at him with wide eyes and it took everything in him to not crack on the spot.
you slowly but surely laid your body over his lap to which he responded with a low ‘that’s my pretty girl’. he ran his hands over your ass cheeks, feeling up the petal soft skin before giving your right cheek a quick slap. you squealed out his name but he only responded with another slap, this time a little tougher than the last. “shut your mouth before i shut it for you and trust me you don’t want me to do that,” he gave your left cheek three quick slaps, making your body jolt. you were in so much stinging pain you hadn’t even noticed your pussy was dripping wet, making a damp spot on eren’s sweats.
eren swiped two fingers through your sopping folds, a low groan rumbling in his chest at the feeling of your essence coating his digits. “looks like your enjoying this shit a little more than you should huh? so fuckin’ nasty,” he spanked your pussy and that’s when you finally let out a broken moan. eren licked his lips and did it again, and again, and again until your thighs clenched together, the damp spot on eren’s sweats growing by the second. eren threw his head back laughing like something genuinely funny had happened. he lowered his head, bringing his lips extremely close to your ear, “did you just cum from getting your slutty little pussy slapped? hm?”
you were too embarrassed to say anything and just nodded, but that wasn’t enough for eren. his fingers made their way back to your pussy, spreading open your lips before pressing down harshly on your clit. “if you want me to move my fingers i need to hear your voice loud and clear mama,” he pinched your clit harshly and you whined, gripping the soft material of his sweatpants between your trembling fingers. “yes…that’s what i came from,” you mumbled into his thigh, your ears burning from embarrassment. eren yanked your head up by you braids and pinched your clit once more, he wasn’t even close to satisfied with your answer.
“and what exactly did you cum from hm? say that shit or the only way you’ll be getting off tonight is by grinding on my shoes.” he didn’t mean it but from the look on your face you thought he was deadass. it was hilarious to him. “i—i came from you…” eren began to rub quick little circles on your poor clit. “came from what mama? go ‘head and say it.” tears were beginning to pool at your lash line—god this was so humiliating. “i came from you slapping my—hah! m-my pussy! i came from that and it was so—so good p-please do it again!” eren halted his movements, an evil grin making its way onto his lips.
with ease he had lifted you off his lap and had you flat on your back. “you should know better than to ask for shit during your punishment…but i guess all that pretty little head knows is how to spot expensive shit from a mile away and taking dick,” his words were harsh, sure, but that didn’t mean they didn’t have your pussy clenching around nothing. he’s never been this way with you and honestly it was a trip! maybe you’d have to start pissing him off more oft—
“hey? you listening to me?” eren snapped his fingers in front of your face, bringing you back to reality. “yes, yes m’sorry im listening,” eren hummed and gave your forehead a sweet kiss, mumbling something about how the safe-word was ‘red’. “you know i love you more than anything in this world right?” he spoke softly, pulling down his sweatpants and briefs. you looked him in his eyes, giving him a small smile “yes of course i know that ren.” eren swiped his dick between your soaked folds, making sure to bump at your clit with his tip. “good….because m’not gonna lie im about to fuck you like i don’t,” before you could even process his words he fully sheathed himself inside of you.
you tried to pull away but eren made quick work to push your knees to your shoulders, keeping you in the most intense mating press he’s ever had you in. he’d usually prep you a bunch but unfortunately for you that wasn’t happening tonight. “you good?” he spoke softly, tapping your cheek a few times. although the stinging stretch was a bother you had no intentions on stopping him, which is why you were quick to nod your head letting him know all was well.
eren took that as his sign to start giving you rough, deep strokes. “cant believe after all the times we’ve fucked you’re still so goddamn tight,” he growled, slapping your face. it caught you completely off guard by mannn did you fucking love it. “do t-that again—smack me,” eren breathlessly chuckled and happily smacked you once again, giving the stinging skin a wet kiss afterwards.
“f-fuck open your mouth,” you opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue with zero hesitation, moaning loudly when a glob of spit fell from eren’s lips and into your mouth. “what do you say?” eren picked up the pace of his thrusts, the harsh claps of his thighs against your reddening up his skin. “thank you—thank you daddy! s-shit m’gonna cum!” you squeezed around eren like a vice, nearly forcing him to halt his movements. “that was good,” he hummed, giving your sweaty forehead kiss.
“but we’re not done yet.”
45 minutes later…..
“oh my fuckin’ goodness,” you sobbed into the pillow eren had pushed your face into. six damn orgasms and he was still showing no signs of stopping. he really was fucking you like he hated your guts. “i know baby, i know. feels good yeah?” eren whispered in your ear, nibbling on the lobe. he had you in backshots previously, but after your sixth orgasm your body had collapsed onto the mattress. he wasn’t even thrown off, instead he just pressed his chest against your back and slowly rocked into you. the damp sheets were now grinding roughly onto your clit and it had you seeing stars.
eren had came three times, each time inside your pussy making an even bigger mess. if your mind wasn’t so fuzzy you would’ve gotten embarrassed from how loud the squelching sounds of your pussy were, but fortunately for you you could barely even remember your name let alone background noise. “that’s right baby just keep on takin’ it don’t run from it,” he moaned directly into your ear as he emptied his fourth load into your spent pussy. surely he was done now right??? wrong. so so wrong.
“eren—daddy i don’t think i can take no more,” you whimpered in defeat as he turned you on your back once more. eren settled on his knees, wrapping your legs around his waist. “you wanna use the safe word?” he queried, stuffing any cum that seeped out of your pussy back into you. when he was met with silence he smirked. “yeah that’s what a thought.”
he tapped his tip against your swollen clit before slipping back into your pussy, groaning at the warmth that enveloped him. “such a pretty lil thing i love you so so much. my sweet girl mmm you’re my sweet girl right? all mine?” he was now babbling nonsense just as much as you were. in the process of fucking you dumb he had also managed to fuck himself stupid. figures.
“o-oh! yes ren m’all y-yours!” you let out a pornographic moan and eren quickly silenced you by wrapping his hand around your throat. there was pressure but not enough to fully block your airway. eren used his free hand to rub sloppy circles on your clit with his thumb, making your body full tense up. ‘cumming…cumming’ was all you managed to get out before a stream of clear liquid hit eren’s pelvis and yet he still did not stop.
“yeah that’s right let it out baby c’mon gimme some more,” eren pulled out and began aggressively tapping his tip against your clit. your back arched off the bed as you squirted again and that’s when you blacked out. eren made quick work to lay down and pull your shaking body into his, mumbling out praises left and right. “c’mon baby come back to me…that’s it there you go, my sweet girl—my precious girl,” when your eyes cracked open you were met with eren’s angelic face smiling down at you. you sniffled, burying your face in his neck. “i’m sorry…sorry for acting out, won’t do it again i promise,” you mumbled giving his neck little kisses.
eren shook his head, that was the least of his concerns all he wanted to do in this moment was coddle you and love on you with everything he had. “don’t worry about that mama, you just worry about regulating your breathing yeah? take a few deep breathes with me,” that helped immensely and although you were ready to go tf to bed you still needed to be cleaned up… and so did eren….and so did the blankets and sheets. “don’t fall asleep on me just yet princess, m’gonna run you a bath okay?” he waited for you to nod in understanding before picking up your limp body and bringing you to the bathroom.
he filled the bath with hot water and your favorite scented bath salts before setting you in there (but not before testing the water to make sure it didn’t scald your skin ofc). while you relaxed your sore muscles in the bath eren changed the sheets, he couldn’t help but smirk at the huge wet spot along with multiple little damp spots on the material.
“how you feeling mama?” he asked as soon as he walked back into the bathroom. you hummed, looking up at him with nothing but pure love and adoration. “sore…and i still need to wrap my hair up…” you trailed off making eren chuckle. he leant down giving your lips one, two, three kisses the last one being longer than the others. “don’t worry about that i’ll take care of it when you get out,” you let out a sigh of relief and eren laughed once again.
man did this man fucking love you. that’s why he got your eyes tatted on his forearm the very next day heje
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Text
A Mother for a Son
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Summary: As Aemond leaves for a campaign at Storms End, he leaves his very pregnant wife struggle to bring their child into the world, suffering the consequences | Mini-Series Masterlist
Warnings: Childbirth, Death, Major Angst, tbh this is pure angst and nothing else to it I just like making myself sad, sorry
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You hissed in pain as you tried to stand up straight, one hand instinctively resting on your lower back. A deep inhale didn't help matters either, but you felt maybe it was better than trying to soldier through the tightness. One hand was clamped around the handle of the chair, feet shuffling to go to sit in front of the fire and as you slumped into the chair, finally feeling the relief and pressure off your feet, your hand rested on the large bump on your belly. The infant inside as if feeling the touch of its mother kicked back, hurting slightly but it still bought a smile to your face.
"I wish you would not take your time, little one" you muttered, eyes wandering to the crackling fire, its heat almost soothing you through your thin nightdress. These days you had no use for heavy evening dresses, the past few weeks you had been confined to your nightdress exclusively as the pregnancy progressed to the end.
Your eyes fluttered open as your felt his hand on your swollen belly, your own lifting up to hold his arm lovingly, eyes meeting his lilac one. He looked down at you with such admiration and your heart swelled with love feeling his hands rub the bump.
He was dressed in his leathers to ride, braced for the cold that the storm outside would no doubt bring. Despite this, he knelt at your side, taking your hand to bring tenderly to his lips, peppering small kisses to your fingers, your palm and eventually on your unborn child. Your first child.
Your fingers delicately rubbed across his cheek, the only sound was the fire crackling and he wanted nothing more than to just stay with you, take care of you, for he knew how much pain you were in so late into the pregnancy.
"Must you go" you ask your husband. His eye opens to meet you again, a soft, sad look on his features.
"I must" he answered sadly, seeing your response, "I wish I did not have to, especially seeing the pain you are in, gevie ābrazȳrys"
You chuff at his words, "I do not feel beautiful. I feel like I am going to burst and every time they kick it hurts tremendously" you answer. Aemond smiled and looked back at the bump,
"Iksan qrīdrughagon, gaomagon daor ōdrikagon aōha muña, zaldrītsos" he says, making you smile.
The baby seemed to respond, a small kick appearing in his direction, earning a quiet laugh from you, "They heard you. Blood of the dragon indeed"
He seemed to linger by your side for a moment, taking your hands in his, a worried expression was clear on his features.
"I worry about you, my love. This is our first child, and you seem to be in such pain"
"Aemond…" you respond, touched by his concern. A concern that most husbands would not have for their wives. You reached out to his face, thumb grazing over the bottom of his scar. His lids seemed to flutter at your touch before meeting you again, as if in such bliss. "…my love, do not worry. Your mother has an army of midwives and she herself has had four children, I am in good hands"
There was a pause as you sat up in the chair, "Our child gives me strength, if they are anything like their father" you smile and so does he. Aemond seems to find this answer satisfactory as he leans up and gives you a tender kiss to your lips, feeling the warmth from your face on his. His hand rests on your jaw, pulling you further towards him as if wanting more, making your smile against his kiss. He pulled away and rested his forehead against yours, eyes focussed down on you,
"Please be careful" you say and he nods. He turned to leave, his hand lingering on yours for a moment before doing so, almost not wanting to leave, whether it be a small voice in his head telling him or not. He looked back once at the door, relishing the view he had before him. His pregnant wife, sat in front of the fire, smiling back lovingly at him. He nodded to you, muttering 'my lady wife' before leaving.
You felt a heaviness in your chest as he left, more in the hope that he would not be reckless once out on Vhagar. He could so often get carried away, you thought to yourself. Outside, the wind howled loudly and you could see the dark grey clouds in the sky run across the sky quickly, the rain creating rivers, you had not seen a storm this bad in King's Landing for a while. One could not tell if it was morning or evening, it was so dark with clouds.
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A day had passed in King's Landing, but nobody would have known it. The storm raged on and on, the sun had yet to make an appearance and you had not heard a word from your husband. You stood at the window, hands tied together with anxiety, looking out at all the trees barren of their leaves, the wind having stripped them of their greenery. You took a deep breath, a kick from the baby landing straight on your bladder and you quickly took a seat at the window.
"Heed your father's warning, little one" you say, one hand rubbing over the large bump, remembering the way Aemond had spoken to the unborn child.
A knock at the door broke you out of this trance, Ser Criston Cole stepped in, "Yes?" you inquire.
"Queen Alicent, Princess"
You nodded and he stepped aside to allow the Queen to enter your chambers, a worried look on her features. She had her hair down as if to go to sleep but was dressed with a silk green robe over her, hands clasped together she offered a small smile which you reciprocated.
"You look tired, my dear" she said, coming to sit beside you once the door had closed. Your hand was still supporting the bump as if the weight was pulling down on you, you nodded.
"It is so, your Grace. I do not sleep at all with the weight of the baby" you answer, letting out a small groan of pain.
"I am sure the worry for my son is not helping your condition" she said, this is when your eyes met. You nodded sadly, looking out the window now.
"I worry about him, your Grace. Although you must also, I imagine. He is your son" you offer her a smile.
"Yes…" she trails off, "…I remember the day he was born. He was an easy labour, an easy child, seldom crying"
This made you smile, of course he would have been a good child. As if the gods had formed him themselves, you could only wish the same for your child.
Alicent had always been good to you and she was ecstatic to find you with child many moons ago. Of course, she already had grandchildren from Halaena and Aegon, but this time it was different, she was more attentive, almost overly so. Aemond had been the same when you informed him, excited but restrained somewhat. He often ran you baths to soothe your aching body, dressing you in moments of weakness, you could not have wished for a better and more attentive husband. His kindness astounded you. 
You went to say something, when a pain hit you in a new place, sending a shock of pain through your hips. You moaned out in pain, louder this time, clutching your thighs and leaving marks where your fingers had been.
"What is wrong, my dear?" you heard Alicent say, but her voice was muffled through the wall of blurred pain you were still experiencing. That had been different, you thought, and your mind raced with the possibilities. The pregnancy was nearing its end and this was the thought that worried you the most, your hands began to shake in fear.
"Something is wrong…" you said quietly, so hushed thar Alicent had not heard you as you starting to slowly kneel to the ground, one hand in front to stabilise yourself.
Alicent herself got on the floor in front of you so as to hear you better, one hand placed at your arm in comfort. Your hand brushed your thigh and you pulled it from beneath your nightdress to find that your entire palm was bright red with blood, Alicent was now silent, taking one wide look at your hand and then into your eyes.
Your eyes had welled up with tears, some for the pain and some for the fear, but you met Alicent's eyes.
"Something is wrong" you said more clearly now.
The wave of pain began just then and like a military operation, midwives surrounded you, setting down dark towels on the bed to place you on top. As you were laid on the bed, the pain worsened and you kept screaming out with every contraction, the midwives and Alicent attempting to calm you down without any help whatsoever.
Now, the room had filled up with a dozen people, two of which were the Hightowers huddled in the corner. Alicent's face was red with worry and he kept rubbing her hands together, speaking in low voices with her father,
"This is not usual" Alicent said to her father, he shook his head, eyes every now and then landing on you reeling in pain on the bed, "even with four children, father, I know that this should not happen"
"Has word been sent to Aemond?" he asked, Alicent nodded her head quickly, "What has been said"
"That the Princess has begun her labours"
"Good, it would be best to leave the in-depth details"
You shook your head, wanting the pain to just cease, muttering under your breath Make it stop, make it stop. You pulled yourself to your knees weakly, grasping the bed frame, being upright making the pain slightly less unbearable. You could feel the pressure of the baby trying to make its way out, this feeling remained through the next contraction.
"Where is my husband!" you scream out, Alicent is at your side immediately, holding your hand,
"He is on his way back, my dear, you are doing brilliantly" she said, you held her hand tightly. Through your blurry vision you saw Halaena had entered the room, perhaps to offer some support, but the thought left your head as quickly as it had entered as another quick contraction ripped through you like a dagger.
"I need him, I need him now. Something is wrong, Alicent…" all pleasantries of titles were thrown out of the window as the pain seared through you, like a hot poker had been pressed harder and harder into you.
"You are doing well, my dear, I know it is painful but you just have to push" she said. You swear you could hear the wood splinter as you grabbed the bedframe again, fingernails dug deep in it to alleviate the pain inside your body. The midwife sat behind you pulled your shift to your waist to examine.
The midwife slowly approached Otto in the corner, "She is not progressing quick enough, we must consider the possibilities"
Otto looked sadly at Alicent, who as if knowing exactly what they had been talking about, turned back to you, placing a cloth to your forehead, face and chest now shining with sweat.
"Listen to me, my dear. You have to push for us, okay?" she instructed, motherly instincts now kicking in.
"An eye for an eye…" Halaena said quietly from the corner, nobody having heard her, "…a mother for a son…"
"I can't…" you reply, breathless, "…it hurts…please…where is my husband…" you ask in between breaths, contractions ramping up again. You looked over to Alicent, tears streaming down your face, her look was fierce now. She knew the pain of a child, she knew how the will wavered during labour and this knowledge seemed to spur her on to support you.
"You can" she simply said and you took a deep breath, pinning your eyes shut and pushing with all your might. Various hands reached at you, some in joy at finally seeing the head of the child you had so long laboured for finally appear. You gripped Alicent's hand tightly, taking in another deep breath to push once more.
"Just a little more, Princess!"
With one final scream and push, you felt the baby vacate you and an empty feeling dawned upon you. You found you were still gripping the bedframe hard, face still shining with sweat, body still shaking.
"Congratulations, Princess. You have a very healthy boy" once of the midwives said as they cleaned your baby. You heard his cries but they never registered, you still felt completely dissociated, dizzy…
Your back met the back of the bed, finally being able to lay down after so much toil, Alicent had a sad look on her face, still dabbing your forehead, "Well done" she said quietly.
Your heavy eyes landed on the midwife next to you, who was handing you the small bundle which your weak arms gratefully took. You looked down at the tiny human in your arms, with little wisps of hair on top. The child was barely bothered about the trouble it had caused and had its thumb in its mouth, breathing quietly. You could not help but smile down at the child, your finger running over his cheek slowly, they were flushed with the loveliest colour.
Aemond would be thrilled, you thought.
You looked up to Alicent, she was craned over, doting on the child already, "He is wonderful, my dear. Well done"
You smiled weakly, eyes fluttering closed, "I feel…tired…" you say weakly. Alicent furrowed her brows, seeing your face go pale slightly and arms go weak. Her eyes found the sheets and pulled them back, only to find the entire bed soaked in blood.
"Get the maesters, now!" Alicent said, but your senses were too blurred to notice what she had said, or how you were feeling. You could not explain how you felt exactly, there was pain to be sure, but it was disappearing second by second and a warm feeling was replaced. Feeling weaker by the second, Alicent quickly took the child from your arms, your hand instinctively went to reach out.
"Where is…Aemond…" you ask, his name ghosting on your lips over and over as midwives rushed out and maesters rushed in. But you barely noticed as your vision faded, smiling as you imagine Aemond with his child.
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The next few hours were a blur for the Red Keep. Alicent had confined herself to her own chambers, sitting disassociated in her armchair, the child now with the maids for care. Opposite her sat her father, Otto, who was also absent-mindedly staring into the fire. The storm had finally passed, leaving just the dark night sky behind, scattered with stars and the big bright moon.
Alicent bit her lip to stop herself from crying, fingers grasping the arms of her chair tightly.
At the door, Ser Criston, "The Prince is back, my Queen" he simply said. With lightning speed, Alicent raced up, Criston Cole not far behind, briskly walking through the Red Keep's corridors to meet her son before anyone else.
At the end of the hallway, Aemond had rounded the corner, looking wet through and heavy. He met his mother's eyes, but he seemed vacant and Alicent felt her heart panic, did he already know? She thought to herself.
She ran to her son, taking his cold hands in hers. His mouth hung slightly open as if to say something, "Aemond, what happened? You are freezing" she said hurriedly. It took a few moments for Aemond himself to have the courage to face his mother, to find the right words for what he had done…
"Mother…" he finally replied. Alicent was surprised when she found his eyes, he looked as if he was going to cry, his face was wind struck, hair still damp and his voice was barely a whisper, "…I fear I must tell you…the terrible thing I have done…" he said.
Alicent gripped her son's hands tighter, behind her Halaena had stopped to stand next to Criston Cole, this made Aemond's mind rush slightly, why were so many people anticipating his return…unless they knew.
"Do not worry about that now, let us get you warm-"
"I lost control" he simply interrupted, Alicent fell silent, furrowing her brows.
"What do you mean?"
"I was just trying to frighten him…I…." he trailed off, his eyes found the floor, a spot of rain fell down his face.
"Aemond, what happened" Alicent asked, just wanting a straight answer.
Aemond could no longer process it and fell to his knees, Alicent held his head against her as if in protection of her large son, "Luke…"
A wave of realisation hit Alicent at what he meant and she looked behind her at Criston and her daughter, Halaena was already looking down muttering to herself, a mother for a son, a mother for a son. It was only here that Alicent had realised what Halaena actually meant and her face went white as a sheet, her hand still being grasped by her son, kneeling on the floor.
After gathering some part of himself, Aemond stood finally, allowing the servants to take his soaked coat away from him.
"Where is my wife?" he asked quietly, taking a breath. There is was, the fated question. Alicent was silent again and almost stood stock still in her place before realising Aemond was walking down the corridor to his chambers, where he knew his wife would be.
"Aemond!" Alicent shouted after him, "Aemond, stop!"
Ser Criston joined in the chase, going to push Aemond back out the room as soon as he had entered, attempting to shield him from this hurt. But it had been too late.
His eyes scanned the room for a moment, there were many maesters and maids in the room before him. The maids all paused to give the Prince a curtsey before resuming their duties, before continuing to wash the blood stained sheets in the pink water before them. The sheer sight of this horrified Aemond, making his heart sink into his stomach.
Criston's hand had been on his chest the entire time, "My Prince, it is best you leave" he said, making eye contact with Alicent who was standing by the door, a sad expression on her face.
Aemond did not violently break free, but simply stepped forward into the room. His face was still, mouth slightly agape as he saw a bloodied figure laying in the bed, but still not confirming who it may have been.
The maester who was hovering over the figure turned to the Prince, "My Prince, please, we are preparing the body-"
Aemond had ignored everyone and continued over to the bed. His breath died in his throat when he saw you, his wife, the entire bottom half of the bed caked in dark blood. You lay there on the bed, eyes slightly opened and your bloodied hand reaching out for nothing, Aemond had realised now he had fallen to his knees on the floor before the bed.
"No…" is all he said, his hands shakily reached out to take your outstretched one, surprised by the still and coldness of it. He felt the hot tears begin to spill down his face as he looked upon yours, "….my love, please…"
He could not help the feeling of guilt that spread in his chest, consuming his heart. Whether he liked it or not, he had become a murderer, a kinslayer, in a mere night. He had taken away someone's son, so his son took away his wife.
He felt the desire to avenge your death, but the tears flowed quicker with the knowledge that nobody was responsible for your death, except for him. He knew women often succumbed to blood loss and infections from childbirth, but thought that because of your pure soul and the unwavering love you had for him, surely you would be exempt from such a cruel fate.
 Aemond did not leave you the entire evening until forced to by the maesters and the sisters.
How the gods could be cruel, he thought, when confined to his own room. He had not even dared look at his newborn son, fearing he may inflict some kind of doom on him also. Or maybe he feared he might push guilt onto the baby for your death. He had what any noble gentleman wanted, a son. But he did not feel any richer from this and was instead consumed by loss for weeks.
When he eventually spurred up the courage to see his son for the first time, he could not shift the ghost of your face that was visible in the child's features. He only felt empty. Like a part of his soul had been ripped from him. Perhaps this part of him would be lost forever.
Alicent never saw her son again as she knew him before.
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mooshywrites · 3 months
Note
Could I request headcanons of poly! Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor with gn non-tiefling s/o asking if they can kiss their horns & tails? They would understand if any of them said no though!
A/N - Please never stop requesting, all of these are so incredibly lovely :,)
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
Masterlist
Art commissions
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
Asking the Tiefling Bachelors if you can touch their horns and tails ~
Dammon -
Horns ~
~ Dammon would be confused as soon as the words left your mouth. No one had ever asked that of course
~ He’d bend over slightly, allowing you better access to his horns
~ You traced the grooves and ridges of his horns, silently admiring how they curved ever so slightly
~ Once you’d satisfied your curiosity, Dammon would stand, giving you a shy smile
~ It would take months for him to admit that his chest fluttered and his breath stilled at your gentle touch
~ “They’re much more sensitive than I expected”
Tail ~
~ Dammon always loved when you visited him at his shop, dropping whatever he was doing to spend a few moments with you
~ Luckily, today, he had enough time to eat lunch with you
~ While sitting in comfortable silence, his tail caught your eyes. You wondered if the ridges down his tail felt the same as the ones across his chest
~ He practically choked on his food when you asked if you could see for yourself
~ He shook his head quickly, denying the chance to mess with his tail
~ When you rose your eyebrows in the quickness of his response, he chucked, a bit embarrassed
~ “Don’t fret, dearest. My tail is… well… a bit ticklish”
Rolan -
Horns ~
~ Rolan was mostly preoccupied with work when you asked if you could touch his horns
~ Almost absentmindedly, he tipped his head forward, granting you access
~ Since he was distracted, you had plenty of time to explore the horns with your fingertips
~ You didn’t miss the way his cheeks flushed and his eyes met yours, your touch bringing him out of his work
~ “Must you be so gentle?”
Tail ~
~ Rolan kept his tail near you most of the time, even having it curled around your ankle when you slept
~ You hadn’t paid it much mind before, but now, Rolan’s tail caught your attention
~ Though he was very affectionate with his tail, you felt it would be impolite to touch it without asking first
~ His eyebrows raised when you asked, nodding as if it were obvious that you could
~ You memorized every bump and ridge, feeling the differing textures in his skin. He watched you, quietly, flicking the end of his tail occasionally
~ “Anything else you’d like to explore?”
Zevlor -
Horns ~
~ Zevlor loved spending the evening curled up in front of the fireplace, letting the warmth ease out the stress of the day
~ Most of the time, you were right there with him, snuggled as close as you could managed
~ You played with his hair casually, watching the flames dance. Finally, you asked what you’d wanted to for months
~ All Zevlor gave you was a chuckle and a nod, resting his forehead against yours
~ You ran both hands over the points, feeling how sharp the end of his horns were
~ Feeling bold, you pulled him closer to you by his horns, kissing his nose playfully. His eyes were alight when you pulled back, the flames reflecting in the orbs
~ “Rather demanding aren’t we?”
Tail ~
~ Zevlor didn’t seem surprised in the slightest when you asked to touch his tail
~ Instead, he simply draped the tail across your lap, continuing to read the book he was focused on
~ You lifted it slightly with your hands, shrieking out a giggle when he thrashed his tail playfully
~ When you looked back over, he seemed to be completely focused still, the perfect actor
~ When you tried to run your hand over the tail again, he finally looks at you
~ There’s a small moment of silence before he grins brightly, twitching his tail again to tickle you
~ “Sorry, my love, my tail must have a mind of its own”
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elfven-blog · 10 months
Text
Something Missing
Summary: You cockwarm Leon while he reads your missing person poster
Yan!Leon Kennedy x F!reader
CW: Cockwarming, yandere Leon(you were taken), p in v, hickies, breeding, Daddy kink, female reader anatomy. 
Word count:1.4K
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One of the corners of Leon’s mouth turned up, his hand smoothing at your back before moving down to sink his fingers into the flesh of your ass causing you to whine and move your hips before he hushes you. His hand kneading at the soft flesh as he coaxes you back into a syrupy state of mind, clenching his jaw before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head as he feels your warmth pulse around his cock. The paper in his hand crinkling slightly.
With his lips still on your head, he brought the paper closer “Look sweet bunny, they got that bit wrong didn’t they?” Your head turned from where it was buried in his neck to look at the paper in his hand. The big red ‘MISSING’ was the first thing you saw, your eyes travelling down the words and pictures of you sprawled along in a fine font. Searching for what he had pointed out.
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you nodded in agreement with him, his hips rutting his cock up into you as you did so “mhmm, wasn’t wearing that daddy” he pressed another kiss to the crown of your forehead, hand still massaging at your ass. But when you moved your own hips, his hand hit with a sharp pain.
“Now now, my sweet girl, you’re meant to sit there and keep daddy warm till he decides he’s ready” You nodded as your head rested against his chest again as he soothed you to stay still again, biting your lip as the feeling of how stretched you are but its for nothing as he readjusts your positions on his office chair and the tip of his cock bumps against the opening of your womb. Hand gripping at the shirt around his waist as you nuzzle into him.
“Sorry, daddy just had to move his leg” a flimsy excuse to enjoy the reactions he got from you. After working so hard on your training the past few years he deserved little moments like this, with your soft warmth surrounding him and being so good for him. He had even been able to take you out into the garden yesterday, he was proud of you for behaving. Even if it had taken a while to get here.
His hand dropped the poster slightly as he tipped your chin up so he could look at your face, the needy look in your eyes could have made him come right then and there. His thumb swiping at your bottom lip, his irises swallowing the colour of his eyes as he leaned down to press a kiss to your mouth. Tongue dipping passed your lips to taste at you, your eyes closing as you pressed yourself closer and your hands moved up to wrap around his shoulders.
When he pulled away you followed slightly, chasing that taste again and causing the grin to grow on his face again. His thumb wiping the saliva from your lip “Think I should frame this, bunny, keep it on the desk in my office” a blush covers your cheeks, the idea of the missing poster in his office with all the other pictures he had taken over the few years you had been together. They all stayed in his home office mind, especially with some showing more skin than others.
The way you blushed at things like this, how you would press your thighs and your breath would hitch when he touched you made him giddy. It hadn’t always been like this. There was a time when you would scream so loud he had to move you to a different location, a time when you’d leave him covered in deep scratch marks and bites…you stopped that after realising it only had a different reaction than you wanted. No that only led to him fucking you into the mattress.
Leon decided that you had wanted long enough, you’d been a good girl, letting him finish some work and not even mentioning anything off limits on the poster. He dropped the poster on the floor, moving his hands to take your legs and placing you on the desk. A high whine leaving you as his cock slid out. He quietly shushed you as he got out of the chair, moving the stuff behind you so you could lay back against the wood.
His hands kept your thighs apart, the sight of your pussy dripping onto the desk and down to the floor. Just watching as your cunt clenched around nothing, and the slick covered the darkened wood caused a groan to leave him and it didn’t take long for him to push into you. Slowly at first, just so his sweet girl could adjust to him and so he could feel every pulse and clench.
His fingers bruise into your thighs, and even though you try to watch knowing how much he liked when you watched the way he stretched you out and pumped into you, your head fell back to rest on the desk as you gripped at the edge. A frustrated noise sounding from you as he stopped moving.
“Daddy, please. Need you to move, want it so bad” Smugness filled his chest at the sound, begging like that always got you what you wanted, and it worked this time too. His hips set a punishing pace, chasing his own high rather than focusing on you. The desk moving under the both of you as it hit the wall, the sound of skin slapping filled the room.
With the angle and how he was holding you, the fat head of his cock rammed at your cervix and the squelching reaching his ears only fuelled him to fuck into you faster. His body bent over you, pressing his weight onto your body as his lips connected with the skin of your neck. Tongue moving to lick at your neck before he bit into the softness on the pulse point, a mark already forming as he sucked a bruise there.
The fringe of his hair tickled at you as he moved to leave more marks along your neck and shoulders, still bullying his cock into you before moving one of his hands up your thigh. He pinched at the inner skin, grinning at the squeal you let out before his hand continued moving. He finger dipping between your pussy lips, gathering some of the wetness and sliding to circle your clit. The other hands pressing your thigh down again as they twitched to close.
“Look so pretty like this, whiny and needy for daddy while he uses you” you could only moan in response, and he took one of your nipples into his mouth as his tongue swirled around it in the same motion he was using with his fingers. All of the sensations causing your hips to buck as you tried to squirm away a little. His one hand moving to your shoulder to keep you where he wanted you.
“Such a pretty bunny, you’ll look even better once daddy’s bred you honey” His hips never letting up the pace as he felt that familiar tightening in his core, and the way you pulsed around his cock while his balls felt heavier than before. Leon moved to stand up again so he could see your face, enjoying the blissed look on your face as your mind emptied of nothing but him. A small whimper leaving you as you gushed around his cock, leaking onto the desk and soaking his jeans.
His hand finally moving from your thighs as he brought it up to hold your jaw. Forcing your mouth open as your tongue immediately lolling out passed your lips for him, your legs clenching around his waist as he rode out your orgasm and into overstimulation. His eyes darkened from lust as he leant over you, spit drooling down from his mouth and into your parted ones and your eyes fluttered shut as your hips bucked up to meet his.
His hips stopped moving, pressing closer to you and your legs locked him in there. He leant over you again, spitting into your mouth as he filled you with hot ropes of cum. And he finally leans all of his weight on you as his head rests on your shoulder, arms either side of your head as he encases you in. Leon goes to move so he can help clean you up but is stopped by a noise of discontent and legs pulling him back in, his hand coming to pat at your hair.
What a good bunny. You know exactly what he likes.
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meowpupp · 3 months
Note
Hi , im here with a thought, i can just imagine puppy reader crying to price about what kyle did and how she was just curious and she didnt really wanna disobey and to please not get rid of her and stuff like that , so kyles punishment is eating the reader out just exactly as price wants , price i feel like is more aggressive and less forgiving towards kyle compared to reader , i feel like price has that "nothing is your fault ♡" attitude for his sweet pup
pt1
owner!price x chubby!puppgirl x pup!kyle
tw//: p in v, oral (fem reciving), hybrid receiving, collars, rough sex, slight mention of overstim, fem reader, collars, probably my most filthy smut yet
prices heart breaks as you cry into his chest, clinging onto him tightly. in all his time with you, hes never seen you so distraught. your body is almost shaking, tail low and ears pulled back as you sob and babble. he just holds you tight, rubbing a big hand firmly up and down your back. “Shhh, s’okay pup. Talk t’me when youre ready, okay?” 
It takes almost ten minutes, tears still spilling down your face as you pull back to look up to him. “please, m sorry captain. i didnt mean t’break the rules,” your words are interrupted by uncontrollable hiccups and stutters, hands gripping his shirt tightly, “please sir, please don get rid of me. i promise ill be good!! wont ever break the rules again, please!!!” you break down into a fit of sobs again, whimpering into his chest as he holds you tight.
He easily lifts you up, your body melting into his as he sits you ontop him. you now straddle his lap, burying your face into his neck. its almost sweet, how youre so desperate for his comfort despite your expectation of rejection. price just holds you tight, hands firm and secure on your body, breath steady and soothing. once you calm, he slowly pulls the story out of you. every little detail. 
he tries to hide the way his face darkens as you speak, his eyes narrowing as you explain what kyle had done. once youre done, he sighs, hands still rubbing circles on your back. he glances over your shoulder, eyes lingering on the garage door. 
“stay here, okay? Be a good girl f’me and strip. kyles gonna say sorry for bein so mean.” with a kiss on your forehead, he lays you down on the couch, leaving you to follow his instructions. 
within ten minutes he returns, not even glancing at you as he enters. his eyes are trained on kyle, watching him closely. a leash is clipped to his sprenger collar. a new addition. 
he forces the other pup to kneel at your feet, hands forceful and grip rough. kyle is huge, broad-shouldered and muscular, looming over you between your spread legs, his eyes trained on your pretty cunt. you can almost see him drool, licking his teeth as he looks over your exposed body as if wanting nothing more than to grip onto plush waist and bury himself 9 inches deep. 
youre snapped back into reality as price tugs harshly on kyles leash, making the collar dig into his neck. “Speak, mutt.” the tone of his voice almost makes you curl into yourself. he sounds vicious, angrier than youve ever seen him. 
kyle eyes meet yours for the first time, “im… sorry.” he mumbles half-assed. you can tell hes itching for your soft body. its almost torture having you spread out for him, yet denied the permission to touch. 
price almost growls as he tugs the leash harder, causing kyles eyes to widen for a moment. “fuck, im sorry, i swear.”
price lets out a huff, pushing kyles head down, making him come face to face with your pretty cunt. “Show her, mutt. Apologise properly.”
its almost instant the way kyle buries his head in you. his hands wrap around your thighs, pulling you flush to his face. his nose bumping your clit as drinks in your slick. its perverted, the wet noises that fill the room, the way he groans as ruts into the couch as he devours you. 
price doesnt allow him an inch of space, denying him reprieve from your drooling cunt. his voice cuts through the mix of moans, directing kyle exactly what to do. telling him how fast, how slow, whether to suck your clit or thrust his tongue. hes almost cruel, tugging kyles collar harshly each time he doesnt listen, leaving angry red marks around his neck. 
but to you? well, how could he ever be mean to his sweet girl? a calloused hand cups your cheek, his low, growly voice talking you through your nth orgasm. he kisses your forehead, letting you hold his free hand tightly as your legs shake and your hips buck, your voice filling the room as you cry out. 
its only once kyles face is completely covered in your slick that he lets the pup pull away. hes panting, cock straining against his pants as he aches for release. kyles eyes meet prices, desperate and needy. “Captain, please, fuck,” his hands twitch as they hold your thighs, resisting the urge to pull your twitching cunt closer, “let me fuck her, ill make her feel so fucking good, have her screaming for you-” 
hes cut off, eyes wide as price harshly grips his jaw. “When are you gonna learn?” price reaches down, palming kyles growing tent, making the pup whine, “shes not yours to fuck.” he lets go, pushing kyle to the ground, denied and throbbing. 
price makes him watch as he gently picks you up, pulling you once again into his lap. your back presses to his chest, legs hooked around his knees, forced to spread. Price is quick to unbutton his pants, sinking you down on his fat dick. you can feel his hot breath tickle your neck as he laughs, finding amusement in the way your back bows as he forces himself deep inside you. 
his hands trail up the curve of your waist, coming up to cup your tits. he squeezes the fat, grinning as it bulges between the gaps of his fingers. you can both hear kyles whines, eyes trained on you as price starts to toy with your nipples for a moment. “moan for me pretty girl, let him hear how good i stretch out your tight fuckin cunt, how your pretty body belongs t’me.” his beard tickles you as his lips brush your neck, “bounce f’me pup, show kyle what hes missing out on.”
the roll of your hips is hypnotising, kyles eyes wide as he drinks in the sight. your tits slightly jiggle each time you come down, your thighs spread wide as price shows off your swollen cunt. “see that kyle? how she takes me?” price reaches out, gripping kyles arm and pulling. he lands with his cheek pressed against the soft pudge of your tummy, able to feel as price fills you with each thrust, “feel that?” price fucks up harder into you, making your body jolt as you squeak, “thats only for good fuckin pups.” 
he pushes kyle away again, leaving him to fall onto the floor, cock throbbing and aching as he watches your pretty cunt get ruined by your rightful owner <3
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eoieopda · 5 months
Text
sudden + (a)cute | jyh
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jeong yunho’s got a serious case of downbaditis — oh, and also a cold.
pairing: jeong yunho x reader au: hurt/comfort, sick fic, friends to something type: drabble (f) word count: 2k rating: pg13 — still, minors do not have my consent to interact. cw: gn!reader; illness (obviously); ft. clueless roommate!mingi a/n: my inaugural ateez fic! inspired by my own sick day today + my own personal love sickness re: jeong yunho, lmao. a/n 2: reposting for the fourth time because it's not in the fucking tags, lmao. 📍permanent taglist(s). @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @bahng-chrizz
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You realize too late that days off and the “do not disturb” feature should go hand-in-hand.
Because you didn’t think to silence your notifications, some form of unsolicited contact slips through the cracks. Just like that, your Netflix binge is unceremoniously halted; hopes are dashed; and your phone vibrates so many fucking times in quick succession that it starts scooting its way across your coffee table, hellbent.
With a grunt of abject displeasure, you tear your half-glazed eyes off the television screen ahead. They flick down to the source of the sound to identify the caller before you commit to sitting upright off the couch. It’s a lost cause, not unlike your eagerly-awaited plans to do nothing. The nuisance lays face-down against the tabletop, buzzing relentlessly as it runs out of real estate.
Tragically, you don’t have a choice.
Before your phone can drive itself over the edge Thelma-and-Louise style, your hand darts out to catch it. You glower as your fingers curl around it, sharp tongue ready to lash out at the co-worker you told no fewer than 809 times that you were giving yourself a long weekend.
“For fuck’s sake, Yeosang,” you mutter to yourself.
Pulling the phone up to your face for closer inspection, you realize with a scoff that it’s not an incoming call at all. 
It’s — one, two, three, four, five six, seven — eight rapid-fire texts and counting, all of which were sent within seconds of one another; and none of which came from the lovable doofus in the office next to yours.
You Know? [10:03 AM]: Tell… You Know? [10:03 AM]: My…. You Know? [10:03 AM]: Story….. ! You Know? [10:03 AM]: 🤧 You Know? [10:04 AM]: 😷 You Know? [10:04 AM]: 🏨 You Know? [10:04 AM]: ☠️ You Know? [10:04 AM]: 🪦
Oh.
Immediately, your tight-lipped scowl cracks wide open.
Different doofus.
In the time it takes for you to convince your phone’s facial identification that you are, in fact, a human being, the bombardment continues.
You Know? [10:05 AM]: 👼🏻
This one pulls an unexpected chuckle out of you that’s still ringing out when you tap on his contact card and start dialing.
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With your hands full and your wrists weighed down with plastic pharmacy bags, it takes three tries to barge into your best friend’s apartment like you own the place. Having underestimated your own clumsy strength, you watch in mild-to-moderate horror as the door flies open, cringing as you await the sound of the knob smashing into the hallway wall.
You get a yelp instead, followed shortly by a huffy, “Aish!”
The newest addition to the apartment steps into view with a pink mark in the center of his forehead. His eyes are as wide as they can get, both blinking slowly. As he rubs gingerly at the blooming bump, you wonder if the look on his face is any more dazed than usual. It must be, you conclude. He wasn’t expecting you any more than you were expecting him.
“Sorry!” You squeak, shuffling the tupperware in your grip from one hand to another. Your warmed palm reaches out to pat his forearm apologetically. “Are you okay?”
Mingi shrugs, already over the heart attack you’ve given him. Now, it’s intrigue that lights up his face. His eyes scan over the goods you’re toting. Soon enough, they stick on the samgyetang that’s scorching through its plastic confines to your fingertips.
As it turns out, Yunho’s new roommate is just as blatant as the previous one.
Where the hell does he find these people?
“You brought me soup?” He beams, teeth and tone both as bright as the fucking sun.
Your mouth opens to respond, but all that comes out is some useless sound that vaguely resembles a groan. You bite your lips together, searching for some way to let him down gently. In the end, you come up with exactly nothing.
“I —”
Withdrawing your hand from his arm, you gesture over your shoulder in the direction of Yunho’s bedroom. “It’s for, um… He’s —”
Mingi looks to where you’re pointing. His eyebrows raise, signaling his arrival at confused. “Yunho’s home?”
Jesus Christ.
“You didn’t… notice?” Your tone matches his. So does the altitude of your eyebrows, you assume.
For far too many seconds, the pair of you eye each other in stupefied silence. The person who would normally interject to save you from this hell doesn’t arrive to do so, leaving you without an escape route.
This is what happens when you find all your roommates on the internet.
“So, I should — Um.” You wave once again towards your friend’s door. “Yeah.”
You bow — you’re not sure why — and shuffle a step backwards, turning slowly on your heel the second you’ve created enough distance. 
Propelled by your own awkwardness, you rocket away from your friend’s roommate and fling open your second door in as many minutes. You shut it behind you with your eyes closed tight. For good measure, you keep your back pressed to the wood, as if your own embarrassment is something you could ever lock out.
“Took you long enough,” comes the rattle of Pestilence itself.
Without unclenching any part of your body, you mutter, “I had my second run-in with your Craigslist roommate, and it went exactly as well as the first. You need a better screening process — seriously.”
A loud laugh is quickly replaced by a cough that you feel in your own chest. Frowning, you open your eyes to take in the lump in front of you; and within seconds, you have to fight off your own laughter.
Sprawled out over an unmade bed, Yunho sports an outfit you couldn’t defend if your life depended on it. Dark brown waves peek out from underneath a beanie, leaving only his eyes to crinkle up at you above a black surgical mask. Even without his mouth visible, there isn’t a doubt in your mind that he’s grinning at you.
Well, damn.
You could stand there all day, basking in the way he looks at you, but you don’t let yourself revel in it. Cheeks already burning, you can’t risk getting caught swooning. 
You’ve embarrassed yourself enough, haven’t you?
To avoid detection, you shake your head to clear it and beg yourself to focus on the absurdity before you. In doing so, you note immediately that Yunho didn’t bother with a shirt; however, he did opt for gym shorts. They clash wildly with the pair of fuzzy, striped socks on his feet. That discovery flusters you to no end because they’re yours.
“You’re dressed for, like, three conflicting seasons,” you muse, gesturing from head to toe with your free hand. The plastic bags you’ve been wearing like bracelets rustle with the movement. “Couldn’t decide on a climate?”
“Hey!” His whine is muffled by his mask, though his congestion certainly doesn’t help. “One-third of me is freezing.”
Before you can nudge his right leg out of the way, Yunho moves it for you, freeing up the corner of his mattress for you to sit down. In fact, he takes all his limbs with him; summons all his strength to sit upright in front of you. You quickly avert your eyes from his flushed chest and focus on your stupid little soup, as if it’s the most interesting thing you’ve ever seen in your life.
When Yunho clocks what you’re holding, he damn near gasps. His eagerness barrels through his hoarseness, making your heart flutter. “Is that your mom’s samgyetang?”
“It’s her recipe,” you correct him. “She’s visiting friends in Sydney, remember?”
For someone with a skull full of snot, Yunho’s quicker on the uptake than you would’ve thought to give him credit for. His eyes crinkle even further into a smile as they flit between your hands and your face — and shit, do they sparkle. 
Before he can confirm that you not only brought him soup but hand-made it, you wrestle your arm free from the non-recyclable trap cutting off your circulation. 
“I — uh, didn’t know which of the five thousand types of decongestants to bring you.” 
You shove no less than four of them towards him, smiling sheepishly.
“Choose your fighter.”
It’s something you thought for sure he’d laugh at, that stupid little joke, but Yunho is uncharacteristically quiet. He just stares down at the over-the-counter medications in his hands, wearing a look you’ve never seen before. One that suggests you’ve given him your beating heart instead of Guadenesin, wrapped it in a bow instead of a kilometer-long pharmacy receipt.
It’s not a look you know what to do with, so you shut up and do your best to ride out your galloping pulse.
Without looking up from your offering, Yunho eventually says, “I didn’t even tell Craigslist Roommate that I was sick. He would’ve grabbed Albothyl or something equally useless and called it a day.”
“That tracks.” You nod. A small smile works its way over your lips. “For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t have trusted him with your sinuses, either.”
Another pause settles in the space between you. It’s not uncomfortable, sitting quietly with your person, but you can’t help wondering after that wrinkle between his brows.
“I didn’t even think to ask him,” he admits, like he’s forgotten that he’s your first call, too.
Some sort of realization must hit him like a lightning strike because Yunho suddenly looks up from his hands. That’s all it takes to stir up the butterflies in your stomach. Unfortunately, it takes far more effort from you to ignore them.
“You made me soup,” he sighs, sounding disappointed. 
Or frustrated. 
Both — or maybe neither?
Whatever it is, it makes your palms sweat more than you ever plan to admit, so you simply nod again.
“I made you soup,” comes your unhelpful echo.
Silence.
Staring.
You offer a reminder that neither of you needs, “You’re sick.”
More silence and staring.
Then, a conclusion that nobody asked for: “You’re sick, and you should therefore have soup.”
Yunho drops his face into his hands, groaning loudly. The various layers of interference make him twice as difficult to understand, but you don’t miss a single, spilling word. 
“I’m sick, and you made me soup; and I can’t kiss you about it because then you’ll be sick; and I don’t even know how to make you soup.”
Stunned to silence, you just sit there — blinking dumbly, all the while— like it’s the only thing you know how to do.
That’s not true.
You know what you want to do, and now you know you’re not alone in that. Most importantly, you know that acting on any of it will cost you several days of sneezing your brains out.
The groan you let out is twice as loud as Yunho’s was and three times’ as frustrated. It erupts out of you, and when you’ve expelled it fully, you crumple into a heap at the foot of his bed, thoroughly defeated. You curse him through the hands that now cover your face, “You rat bastard.”
Yunho snorts. “Excuse me?”
“What even is this timing?” You tear one hand away from your face and land a light smack on his knee. “You really waited to tell me any of this until you were contagious? Be fucking for real.”
His laugh shakes his shoulders, leaves him in the form of squeaks.
“The nerve of you, Jeong Yunho.”
The mattress dips when he drops himself into the space in front of you. Propped up on his elbow, he looks at you with one eyebrow raised.
“You bought out a pharmacy and made me soup,” he counters. “You brought this on yourself.”
You roll your eyes, although it does nothing to distract from the way you’re giggling.
“Did you not wanna get kissed?” Yunho challenges, “Because that’s how you get kissed.” 
With a grin, his knuckles nudge yours, returning your earlier knock far more affectionately than you sent it. “Babo.”
“You’re the babo,” you sniff. 
Despite your childish rebuttal, you take the opportunity to slip your hand fully into his. It’s not the first time, by any means, but the difference is clear; and when you squeeze gently, you feel it come right back.
With your laughter faded out, you sigh, “Yunho?”
He hums in acknowledgement, likely too exhausted by your ill-timed antics to power up a proper response.
“Can you please eat your stupid soup and get better already?”
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nezuscribe · 2 years
Text
i think that there’s something different about bakugo and how he ages. and by that i mean he ages really well. like really well.
he’s not somebody that likes to stick his head into social media unless he absolutely has to, but he’s defiantly seen the comments from people staring how they’ve never been happier that he divorced (he agrees) and that he’s back to dating (he’s not really, but he’ll indulge them). it’s funny too because his friends don’t seem to be getting the same amount of attention they got when they were in their twenties, but it seems that it never changed for bakugo. in fact, the added scars and muscle seemed to have just helped his image. deku would grumble every now and then, but it didn’t change anything that bakugo was still easy on the eyes.
and sure he could pretend that the word dilf hasn’t passed his ear once or twice but he tries to hide the redness of his cheeks as he tries to shove it all down.
so when he’s on patrol one night and he hears a childlike scream, it’s not only his hero sense that goes off but his dad sense as well.
so he’s sprinting as fast as he can, trying to track down the sound when he bumps into a figure at the round of the corner. he hears a muted groan as they fall to the ground from his impact, and he winces as he tries to help them back up.
“watch it!” the voice yells, massaging their forehead as they try to get a better look at him.
“sorry…ya’ hurt anywhere? need me to take’ya to a hospital?” he’s much better with people than he was back then, but he can still hear the awkward tilt in his voice. he gives you an apologetic wince as you roll your eyes, still not able to see him fully in the dim light.
“no, i just fell. i’m fine,” you touch the sensitive skin as you groan at the pain, already feeling something form, “damn, that hurts.”
“sorry, really,” he says, but still trying to look around you for who had just screamed, “but, by any chance, ‘ya hear who screamed?” and he can just tell your glare burning into the side of your face.
“yeah,” you fidget with your sleeve in annoyance, “me.”
“not now,” he wants to say sarcastically, but he can’t because he’s a public figure and he has to control that urge, “couple minutes ago.”
he hears you snort, looking back into the neighborhood as you nod again.
“yeah, still me.”
he pauses, scratching his head as he tried to math that sound to your voice. it could have matched?
“why….why’d you scream? you okay?” he sounds so stupid, towering over you but acting like an idiot as you roll your eyes.
“cause a fuckin’ bug flew into my face.”
he nods in understanding, now feeling bad that he not only knocked you down but did it after you were so viciously attacked.
there’s a silent beat as the two of you have nothing to say, and he almost wants to just jog off.
“you owe me.” you say, kicking a pebble around as he can feel his brows furrow in confusion.
“for what?” his voice is gruff, but even you can tell that without needing to see him he’s good looking.
“knocking me over and giving me a bruise,” your arms cross, “i want compensation. or i can do the same to you.”
he groans, squeezing his eyes shut as he tries to imagine anyway else his night could have ended. all he wanted to do was go home early and spend some time with his daughter but he got himself caught up in this.
“can take you to a hospital, like i offered.”
you shake your head, looking around as you track down a small shop down the corner of the road.
“that bakery’s closed,” you point over to a small building with purple fringes, its lights off as he tracks what you’re motioning to him, “it opens at four everyday and it always runs out of shit at six. get me one of their croissants.”
he almost wants to say ‘or else….’ but you beat him to it before he could even mutter the words.
“or else you can stand over there and i’ll ram into you.”
and he won’t lie, even though both of your ultimatums were terrible at least he could crack a grin at the last one. and anyways, he was battered and bruised from the villain he fought the afternoon and was in no mood ready to be speared so close to finishing his patrol.
“fuckin’ hell,” he murmurs, digging his phone out of his pocket as he unlocks it, going to his contacts app as he outreaches it to you, “put your number in.”
“why?”
“so i can call you to give you you’re fuckin’ croissant tomorrow.”
your eyes comically widen, not believing it was that easy to bribe somebody to get you the one thing you’ve been wanting the past few weeks. you graciously take it as you jam your number in, putting your name after.
when you pass it back to him, the light of the screen luminaries his face and you gasp, feeling your heart drop to your ass when you realize who it actually is. here you can see the infamous red eyes, wheat colored hair freckled with gray as he looks over your name.
“cute name.” he grunts, muttering your it under his breath so that he doesn’t forget it. he even gives you a little wink as he walks away, almost gracing your shoulder as you stand there motionless.
a couple minutes your phone buzzes with a text, and you whip it out to see who it was. even if it said unknown you had a guess who it was seeing his first text.
unknown: forgot but i got playdate duties tmr so can’t pick ur shit up
and then another one came in
unknown: get some good clothes for tmr night and i can fly you over to get some
your lips pout slightly as you try to decipher what the hero was trying to get at, texting back a confused where as you try to pretend that your cheeks weren’t heating up because of this all. it was surely out of the blue, nothing you would have expected from shrieking because of an insect, but even more so was what he sent next.
unknown: place in france i heard is good
unknown: thought u wanted croissants?
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meiieiri · 9 months
Text
STOLEN MOMENTS WITH THEM [FT. JUJUTSU KAISEN]
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❁—CHARACTERS: suguru geto, gojo satoru, nanami kento
warnings: suggestive themes in gojo’s part (bc why not haha), mentions of canon-typical violence
a/n: i’m so sorry for all this tooth-rotting fluff, i’m sad rn so hehe :’>> song inspo: you are in love (taylor swift). am accepting requests/prompts btw, just shoot me a message-
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༊*·˚ SUGURU GETO
winter afternoons cooped inside your one bedroom apartment are always special days, commonly consisting of freshly-brewed piping hot tea sitting peacefully on your small living room side table, a good book, and the warmth of a knitted throw blanket. snowflakes fall entrancingly from the sky and make a feather-like landing on the glass windows that peek into your home.
suguru geto was lounging silently on the couch with you, your head on his strong lap as he gently combs his fingers through your hair, a leather bound book in his free hand, his eyes leisurely skimming the yellowed pages trying to make sense of the decadent shakespearean sonnets that liken love to that of honey and flowers. you were just about to fall asleep when suguru’s melodic baritone caresses your ear.
“don’t you think he’s so full of shit?” he asks suddenly. how could one speak with such vulgar words and still make it sound like poetry?
“shakespeare?” you sit up and you readjust yourselves so that you can rest your head on his shoulder, peeking over it to inspect sonnet 55. his arms comes up to pull you closer to him, tucking you into the warmth of his chest in a bid to keep you warm. “i thought you liked his work,” you take the offending book into your hands, scanning through the words.
“i do,” he clarifies, tracing shapes on your shoulder, his cheek resting against the top of your head as he waits for you to finish reading through the passage.
when you look up from the book, you are surprised when his lips abruptly yet softly meet yours in a loving peck. his hand moves to cup your cheek as he deepens the kiss, your lips moving together in a perpetual waltz, your heartbeats in total sync. you thought the kiss would last forever, and you and suguru wouldn’t give a flying fuck, but he pulls away teasingly, his forehead resting against your own, his nose lovingly bumping yours as you both come down from your respective highs.
“not as much as i like you, though.”
you shake your head, rose blush tinting your cheeks, hopelessly in love. he truly was the light of your life, the lighthouse that brings you to safe waters.
༊*·˚ GOJO SATORU
despite the horrors that have long plagued the grounds of jujutsu tech, the school, being tucked away in a remote location deep in tokyo’s forgotten countryside, was actually quite beautiful. the backdrop of the tall cedar-wood and red maple trees in the forest adjacent to the teachers’ dormitories that served as a protective cover from unwanted prying eyes is a particularly wonderful sight and in an autumn evening such as this one, emitted a fresh aroma of sweet cherries and almonds.
“i was wondering where you were,” gojo satoru walks in the teachers lounge just as the electric kettle automatically switches off. he woke up in a panic when he noticed you’d gone missing, your side of the bed having lost all its warmth, indicating you must have been out of bed for a good while now. it didn’t help his nerves to see your bedstand digital clock display the time: 1:58 AM in bright neon green on its screen.
he moves behind you, his strong arms wrapping around your dainty figure as you busy yourself pouring the boiling hot water into the two instant ramen cups you had prepared. “that for me?”
“nope,” you shrug. “it’s for nanami.”
that was obviously a lie — he looks at the label of the ramen cup and scoffs when he sees the indicated flavor: seafood curry, his favorite, now, if that wasn’t enough to convince him, he has to remind himself that his adorable blonde junior hates instant crap like this. but still, you found it endearingly funny to see your husband pouting like some kicked dog when you push past him to bring the two cups over to the nearby dining table. “i’m kidding,” you chortle, beckoning him to join you.
“you meanie,” he sticks out his bottom lip as he follows you to the table. he sits down, his elbows resting on the table as his hands come up to cradle his chin, mirroring the image of a child who’d been told “no” by his parent. “i think i want a divorce now,” he sulks.
you feign guilt, playing along with him. you stand up to take a seat next to him. “i’m sorry, baby,” you tell him. he only responds by pointing to his cheek, silently telling you to “kiss it better” if you really were sincere in your apology. you reach up to place a loving kiss on his cheek and a smile spreads across his lips. “better?” you chuckle when he lets out an amused breath.
having made peace, you move to retrieve your cup of ramen when without warning, he pulls you by the hand, crashing his lips against yours in a passionate kiss, his teeth needily sucking at your bottom lip, the heat of the kiss seemingly warming up the entire room that had been filled with the chill of the autumn night breeze. your arms move to rest on his shoulders, as he effortlessly pulls you into his lap, his hands resting on the small of your back. it’s only when you need to take a steadying breath of air that he breaks the kiss.
“all better,” he winks, the ramen having gone cold, utterly forgotten, as the night peacefully went on.
༊*·˚ NANAMI KENTO
“i knew i should have brought an umbrella,” nanami kento sheepishly rubs the back of his head.
“i’m sorry,” his shoulders slump when a low rumble of a thunderclap suddenly goes off, lightning illuminating the sky in a brilliant glow. the date had gone so well — you visited the best art galleries in tokyo, even saw a performance at one of those cozy hidden gem jazz clubs — kento had thought that his luck would hold out ‘till you got home.
but the universe seems to have decided otherwise. now, here you were taking shelter, stranded under the fiberglass roof of a deserted bus stop’s waiting shed. “kento,” your gentle voice quells the dread in his chest, chipping away at the block of anxiety forming in his throat. “it’s okay,” you scoot over, patting the spot next to you, silently telling him to sit down.
reluctantly, he takes a seat, keeping himself at a reasonable distance from you, thinking that you would, at the very least, be upset at him for this slight mishap. “sorry,” he repeats the apology like a broken record, and a compassionate smile forms on your lips.
you slowly scoot on over next to him, closing the gap between the two of you, your pinky finger reaching for his own, as if you were asking for permission. kento notices the gesture instantly, and takes your hand in his, his thumb rubbing your knuckles comfortingly. “…today was fun, kento,” you tell him, a genuine grin on your face, “seriously. what’s a little rain?”
a burden seems to have been lifted from his shoulders. kento nanami was not a man who put much value into love, with how dangerous his profession is, fighting the lurking malevolence hiding in the world’s darkest shadows, he didn’t have time for the childishness of falling in and out of love. it was inconvenient, and troublesome.
at least, that’s what he used to believe before you came crashing into his life and touched the heartstrings he has long resigned to keep under lock and key with your delicate hands.
he silently takes off his overcoat then to wrap it around your shoulders like the gentleman he was (he wasn’t about to let the love of his life get drenched in the rain), resisting the urge to grin when he sees just how small you look in it. the next few minutes pass by in absolute silence, the sound of your breaths being the only conceivable sound for a long while.
“…i’m glad you had fun,” he looks up at the stormy sky again. “i did, too.”
“next time, let’s be sure to check the weather forecast ahead of time,” you giggle. he joins your laughter, bringing your hand to his lips, his warm breath tickling your skin, as he lets his lips touch your flesh in a quintessentially classic affectionate kiss on the back of your hand like they do in those vintage hollywood movies. he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “i know how much you hate the rain.”
“…i think i can make an exception,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.
the decibels of his tenor fight against the loud pitter patter of raindrops crash landing on the fiberglass roof of the waiting shed. but you hear his lyrical confession of love anyway, with your heart’s ear perhaps.
“i have the sun with me all the time, anyway,” kento says, planting a soft kiss on your forehead as the rain washes the remnants of his old world away.
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cardansriddle · 10 months
Text
Your girl (part 2) - (tom riddle x fem!reader)
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part 1
warnings: none. the reader is just down bad for tom.
A/N: this part is dedicated to the anon who somehow inspired me to write a part 2. hope you enjoy <3
༻♛༺
The noise and commotion around you blended into a hazy blur as you let the alcohol dull your senses. The Slytherins had thrown yet another gathering in celebration of winning the Quidditch match, and your dorm mates had been relentless in getting you to join the festivities. You found yourself amidst your housemates, clutching a half-empty cup of Firewhisky in your hand. 
The last time you were somewhere like this, Tom Riddle had kissed you. 
The problem was, he had not talked to you ever since. He would catch your eyes from across whatever room you were in, and a sly smirk would play on his lips, a silent acknowledgement of the effect he had on you. That arrogant, cruel bastard. 
But you had your pride. You would not approach him. You wanted—desperately— for him to come to you first.
You glanced over the nameless student's shoulder that was caught in telling a story to you and your mates, your eyes travelled over the dancing figures, their movements synchronized to the pulsating rhythm. 
But amidst the sea of faces, one image remained etched in your mind.
A flicker of resentment resurfaced as you spotted him across the room, surrounded by a group of admirers conversing with each other and attempting vainly to impress Riddle with their words. He was barely paying attention, you could tell by the indifferent expression on his face. And yet his magnetic presence drew people like moths to a flame, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of bitterness. You took another sip of the Firewhisky, hoping it would dull the ache.
A shout jolted you out of your staring and you glanced towards the commotion to see the Seeker being held up in the air by his fellow players. You rolled your eyes, and when you looked back towards Riddle once again, he was already looking at you. His mouth curled into that fucking smirk you had grown resent. 
Taking a sip from your drink, you allowed the liquid courage to embolden you and with a newfound fury igniting your being, you broke the eye contact only to push past your friends. It was time to confront the enigma that was Tom Riddle
You attempted to manoeuvre through the crowd, only for someone to bump into you and cause your drink to spill all over your shirt. The person grabbed your arms to steady you. "Sorry, love." The masculine voice slurred, but when you looked up to meet the guy's gaze, his eyes were glued to the wet fabric clinging to your chest uncomfortably. "Let me—"
His words were caught in his throat by the shadow looming over your shoulder, and the guy swallowed a lump in his throat before hurrying away. You would have been confused by his sudden departure, but you had grown to feel and remember the way the atmosphere would still anytime he would be in your proximity. 
"You should change before everyone gets an eyeful of you."
You tensed. Your heart screamed in delight, but your hazy mind was glazed with anger. "How charming of you." You snarked, turning to face him. 
He stood tall, towering above you with a dangerous glint in his dark eyes. The traitorous organ lurched in your chest at the sight of him, with his chiselled features illuminated by the dim lighting in the room. A strand had escaped his perfectly styled hair, falling on his forehead as a loose curl. You resisted the urge to reach and put it back in its place.
"Excuse me?" He arched a brow.
"What? Is this seriously the first thing you say to me after—" You cut yourself off, unable to utter the words.
"After what?" He taunted.
You shot him a glare. "You know perfectly well what."
He hummed, unbothered, and his predatory gaze roved over your form. "You are annoyingly wilful." 
You scoffed and it seemed to set something off in him because the next second he grabbed you and began dragging you away. You made a move to protest, causing him to tighten his grip on your wrist and you cursed at the way his skin on yours made you feel.
Before you knew it, he had dragged you up to an empty dorm, pressing you up against the closed door. "Change." He demanded.
You glared up at him. "Am I supposed to produce a shirt out of thin air?" 
His nostrils flared as he tried to suppress his growing anger, before turning around and walking to pull open a drawer. It was only when he pulled a shirt out did you realise that he had dragged you not to just an empty room—but his dorm.
"Are you planning to waste your whole life trying to drown your thoughts with Firewhisky?" He asked, taking slow deliberate steps towards you.
You faltered, eyes dropping from his to avoid his piercing and too-observant stare. 
"Your escape won't be found in the bottom of a bottle." He continued.
"How do you know I am not just drinking to have fun?" 
You felt him come to a halt in front of you, hand raising to grab your chin and lift it up so you would meet his gaze. "Observation is a skill I possess. That, and last time you told me you were trying to forget." Your breath hitched at the close proximity, lungs stuttering as his breath fanned your mouth. "My only question is, what are you trying to forget?" When you did not give a reply, he cocked his head, dark eyes locked on yours. "Hm?"
You tried to look away, but his grip tightened. "Eyes on me." 
You knew you would not be leaving this situation without giving him a satisfactory answer, so throwing all caution to the wind, you decided to answer him. "You."
Something told you he already knew the answer before you had even told him. "Why would you want to banish me from your thoughts?"
"You are toying with me. Stop it."
He arched a brow, amused. "We both know you like it. Don't you?"
Your heart lurched uncomfortably because it was true. You did not mind him playing you— as long as he gave his attention to you, you would let him do anything. It was pathetic, yes, but the heart wanted what it wanted, and there was nothing you could do about it. You were irrevocably infatuated with him. Your whole body and soul were his. He only had to claim it. 
"I do." 
The corner of his lip curled slightly into a pleased smirk. "Good girl. See, that was not hard to admit."
"Tom—" you began, but he shushed you with a finger on your lips. 
"And what is it that you desire the most?" He asked, but once again, you could tell by the sinister glint in his eyes that he knew the answer. He just wanted you to admit it out loud. To him. 
You swallowed the lump in your throat, knowing there was no going back from this pivotal moment. "To be your girl." Your whispered admittance hung in the tense air between you for a moment, and then his lips were on yours. 
There was hunger in the way he kissed you, a hunger that matched your own. His hand found its way to your waist, gripping you firmly, pulling you closer. The pressure of his touch sent shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you. 
You attempted to tangle your hands in his hair, but in a sudden move, he had your wrists pressed above your head to the door behind you, making it impossible to move. 
He broke the kiss, and his lips began to explore the curve of your neck, leaving a trail of lingering warmth as he bit and sucked harshly on the skin. When he finally pulled away, you could see the twisted satisfaction on his expression as he gazed down at the bruise he had left behind on your skin.
"You want to be mine? To use and please as I see fit?" He rasped. "Make no mistake— once you say yes, there will be no going back." There was a dangerous undertone to his words, but you did not care. It was all you had ever wanted, ever desired, and you knew you could never refuse him. 
"Yes. I'm all yours."
༻♛༺
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simp-ly-writes · 3 months
Text
Lasting Pictures: Overwhelmed (pt.7)
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Pairing: Poly!Task Force 141 x Photographer!Reader
Summary: And just when you thought things couldn't get worse, you get strapped to a mission with a new recruit while guilt consumes you from the inside out. At least the "team" is back together- right?
Warnings: 3005 words, slowburn, swearing, depictions of PTSD, mentions of injury.
A/N: A shorter chapter in comparisons to others... I want to spoil so badly what is being served up next lol.
Masterlist | Taglist | edited.
Lasting Pictures Series Masterlist
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↳ Two Weeks Until Mission “Spill”
Strapping yourself into yet another cold metal seat had now become a form of comfort- you were safe in the sky for these few moments. The only enemy being your own thoughts- clouding over your consciousness and drowning it in worries and what ifs. A knock of your shoulder has your mind clearing to be met by two blue ones eyeing you with concern- Matthew was back with you. They plane jittered- knocking both of your helmets together as you curse out- gripping your forehead as they mirror the same. 
“You holdin’ up there al’right?”
“You sound worse than I look- Matthews.”
“A mixture of a sleepless night and liquid courage in the morning for today's meeting.”
“Mmm,” is all you leave the lace corporal with in your thoughts,-eyeing their gear up and down as they shuffle their boots in the cramped space. “I’m surprised they are placing you on so many missions this early in your career… you must be special or we are facing some serious load of shit.”
“I was hoping you would know which side of that we are on…”
You scoff- ending the conversation while bending your head back against the plane's frame- the slight rumbles shaking your helmet leave your ears tingling from the sensation. Matthew does the same- trying to catch some shut eye before facing yet another unknown.
--
The plane begins its descent, you feel as the tires bump and skip against the pavement as you slowly come to a halt. Shoving a sleepy-eyed Matthew out before yourself- he looks around widely- taking the new environment in as you help the crew to unload your gear to an awaiting truck. 
Another plane scratches against the blacktop as you squint your eyes across the field- a black plane with a familiar skull logo has you rolling your eyes before a small smile finds its way across your face. Matthew tilts their head, taking the box out of your hands as they open their mouth- wanting to ask about your reaction as you cut to the chase.
“We have more witnesses.”
“Wonderful.”
“You sound so happy about that Matthews- what, you wanted it just to be the two of us?” you tease as Matthew goes bright red.
“No-no, absolutely not like that. I don't want to start ANYTHING-”
“Hey, hey- I’m just pulling your leg a bit. Nothing to be reported to Fish… just yet,” you tease out once more. 
Matthew shakes their head, dropping the last box into the trunk as the plane turns and sets beside the truck- the door slowly opening as various boots match their way down and towards you both. 
Another truck pulls in behind you- screeching to a halt as your hand hovers over your secondary- waiting for their first move. The car door slams open and shut before you pause like a deer in headlights upon hearing their voice. Horangi and Köing both have stopped in their steps as the three of you all look at each other- shock coursing through your veins as Matthew is now more confused than ever.
“Dice-erm lieutenant- sorry. Is everything okay?”
“Everything is great Matthew- just dealing with a walking and talking corpse it appears…” you reply while turning around slowly and being met with yet another pair of blue eyes staring back into your own. The crinkle when searching your own, arms falling slightly open as your heart races. Eyes dropping down to their arms- training up their tattoos with caution- the arms that you spent many nights in. Checking over to see if this really was the same man as before. There is no way, your brain mocks you as consumed laughter erupts from your core. 
Your feet are moving on their own as they stand there in wait. Horangi and Köing have yet to move- still trying to process reality. How has the squad fully retunited? Is all you can think while grabbing onto their bullet vest in a vice grip as they wince from the pressure before hugging you back with the same emotional effort. All you were missing with Fish to complete the scene.
And with that thought, you pulled back, forearms still latched onto one another- holding as if one were to leave once more. “A-Alex. Oh my hells- ALEX! You are dead- I fucking watched you die you absolute prick!” You yell out before shoving him into his truck. He stumbles slightly before casting a big smile over your shoulder as he waves Horangi and Köing over.
“Well if I am truly dead- it's great to see you as the first devil I have the pleasure of meeting,” he says with a smile before pulling Horangi and Köing into separate hugs- sharing small sentiments with one another before another door to the car gets opened- all your heads snapping over to the sound. 
“It is great to see friends-family reunited once more. It is an even more pleasure to finally see you in person, Dice. It has been some time since we last got to talk- even online,” Farah says while nodding over to Matthews who gives her a kind smile in reply. 
“The pleasure is all mine Farah- if I could introduce you to-”
“There is no need, Dice- For I already know of everyone here. Is that not right Matthews?”
“Matthew?” you reply out in confusion as they nod their head, casting you a small smile before walking over to Farah's side. 
“I was sent to ensure we were not being double-crossed again,” Matthew replies simply before jumping into the back of the truck- leaving the rest of you to catch up amongst one another. Looking back to Alex who already stares down at you, and you down at his prosthetic leg.
“Don’t you start those thoughts Dice- there was nothing you could have done. You had already sacrificed so much- going away with them for months. To save me- to save our team. That gamble of your life saved thousands- much more valuable than my leg,” Alex says with a squint to his eyes- ensuring your focus on his sincerity. All you can do is nod in reply before hopping into the truck and rolling down the road.
--
The car ride was filled with a talk radio show that conversed in a language you had yet to learn. Every now and then Alex would turn down the radio to translate the local news or fire a question into the backseat where you reside beside Matthews. Farah sat at shotgun- seemingly in her own world as she flipped through various maps hidden in the console. 
The voices that filled the space eventually drifted into mere mumbles as you leaned your head against the glass window- feeling each bump in the road rumble against your over consumed brain. You were having a silent breakdown, emotions swirling as you gripped your pant leg and squeezed your eyes shut. You did your bets to hide the staggering breaths you took in shallow motions of your chest. 
Yet just as you feel yourself becoming weaker by the minute- the lack of oxygen floating through your head. The sound of a singular shot rings through your ears as you snap up forward, gripping your seatbelt instinctively. The hold it has on your body now feels strangling as you, your arms flare- trying to escape as the car slows and pulls into a driveway. The driver's door is slammed open near the same time yours is.
Alex reaches over, unbuckling you from the seat as he pulls you out. The smell of gasoline coming from the cooling exhaust has you choking back tears as your nails dig into his tattoos. He pulls you out of the car and away from the group- into the building and inside a bedroom. Placing you upon the mattress, he turns back around to close the door. 
You reach a hand out, Alex watches from the corner of his eye- now walking faster to close the door so he can return to you. You sit there still, a small plead escaping your lips as you notice his quick movements away from you. 
“Hey-Hey, I’m just closing the door- promise I’m not leaving, not this time,” Alex says with his back turned to you and now a closed door. You fall backwards onto the bed, shaking as you borrow your face into a pillow- the softness of its material. The weight of a blanket being placed across your skin has you reveling in its warmth. Alex’s hand hover over your hair before deciding to gently pull back a few strands to reveal your bloodshot eyes. 
You hiccup back tears, mouth opening and closing with various apologies falling short from becoming audible. You feel as the bed dips and Alex sits beside your head, leaning against the headboard as you move from the pillow to his thigh. You both sit there still for a moment, you focus on the sounds of his breath, the presence he brings to a room, as your brain clears. 
In a frog-like tone you look up to find Alex already looking down at you, “This is not how I was expecting our next meeting to be,” is how you start- eyes now differing away from his own as you fight against the whirlwind of emotions still plaguing my system. “I thought I would meet you in heaven- me waiting for you and then it all changed-”
“How so?” Alex asks with tenderness as he places a hand to your shoulder, rubbing small circles that have your mind going on a seventh tangent. 
You shake your head at first, stupid, stupid, stupid- why would you start with that! Before letting out a sigh, “I’m sorry for jumping right into things I-”
“It was me who insisted on meeting you at the landing field. Laswell spoke against it- it was going to overwhelm you but I was just so desperate to see the team together again. To feel together again,” you feel as his legs shift from under you before he continues, “Apologies, Dice. Fuck I- I-”
“I get it,” you let out a breathy chuckle while shiting the blanket over you both- seeking cover. In that sudden movement Horangi and Köing come bursting into the room- quickly slamming the door behind themselves as their shoulders crunch up to their heads- embarrassed for the noise and for the looks of it- interrupting like old times. 
“We can go…” Horangi states yet his eyes tell otherwise while looking through your cloudy ones as they both near you sitting on the edge of the bed. “It’s alright, better actually now to tell you all at the same time, you both can help me with details I forget as well.”
Köing nods once while handing you a bottle of water from underneath his jacket, giving him an appreciative smile as you crack open the lid- pacing it upwards for Alex to take a sip first before you chug down the remaining half of the bottle. Horangi takes the disposable, setting it against the bedside table before kicking off his shoes and lounging against the bed with a dramatic sigh. Köing shoves him, rocking him nearly off the bed as you hide your laugh into Alex’s side. You feel as it rubbles with each of his own laughs. 
Once coming down you begin to explain your break and subsequently your desire to return to form. You find yourself having Dejavu to the sleepover with Gabby- your smile flickers and falls as the sentences grow. You tell them of your first missions with your new team- or what you still hope to be your team as you cringe in memory to your recent lack of actions towards them all. 
Horangi pats your leg gently, causing you to get back on track as he hums along to your storytelling. You feel Alex’s heavy eyes on the top of your head as he grips your hand from underneath the covers. You tell them of the therapists, medication trials, the neverending sleepless nights before demanding Gabbys attention by your side as your existing relationships began to crackle, more guilt consumes your words drift off to injury after injury hidden as Horangi and Köing shake their heads angrily and Alex stills from underneath you. 
Not paying mind to their appearances you pressure through, words like waterfalls as a stray tear escapes from your eye- taking a breath of fresh air. “I guess what I have been meaning to say is that- fuck its been overwhelming. It feels as if I’m losing myself again- I know I am, you’ve seen it like all the others. New and old mixing together- memories bleeding into present- I, I’m just trying to hold on just as hard as I’m trying to let go. I just want to hide again.” 
A heavy silence now coats the room again, no one knowing what to say next. You hear as Farah and Matthew pase in the hallway just outside- hands hovering over a knock. Guilt. There is still a mission to be done, lives to be saved as you are staying here wallowing in your own self-pity- dragging everyone else down with you…
--
Freshen yourself up in the adjacent bathroom, the day continued as if nothing happened much to your appreciation. Going downstairs and into the open living space, you rotated around the dinning table to stand beside Farah. Various familiar maps caught your eye alongside plastic tokens representing various points of interest and other possible squads. It was a different feeling, seeing the actual plans printed and in person than on a screen with various static faces yelling at you for slight perceived incompetence. 
The day continued into night as you both worked underneath the warm lighting. Alex and Horangi had prepared a meal for the team in the kitchen as Matthew began to wash up the materials used before joining the group in the living room. A few beers passed around and war stories were shared about. You exited the screen door and into the backyard- sitting on the steps you texted Gabby. You started by apologising for the possible time differences and asked how her date went well, you smiled to yourself remembering how fussy she used to get in your adolescent days together. She always had to make herself look perfect for some questionable guy you held your tongue back from commenting on. 
You just prayed that from what you heard, this trainer on base would treat your best friend as you knew her- deserving of the sky and beyond. Thinking of the devil, Gabby's name lit up across your screen as you swiped to answer it- now passing around the garden's grass. Feeling the light dampness between your toes as you giggled happily back at Fish’s dramatic story of the night. The date had gone well- more then well you of course teased back as her dramatics only doubled. 
You don’t notice as the time slips away before Alex is hollering you back inside- rainclouds now appearing in the sky as you rush through the first droplets and end the call in a hurry. Köing stands with a towel already prepared as you give him a pat on the arm in thanks before calling it a night. Yet as you stare up at the ceiling in your sweatpants to Horangi’s obnoxious snoring that has your heart aching back to the base’s apartment and the warm mornings that awaited you and only then do your eyes flutter shut that night. Sleep finding your form like a warm embrace. 
--
When the sun speaks through the screen door, your back aches from the coach you crashed on. Alex shakes you awake- pressing a cup of coffee between your hands with a chuckle, mumbling something about a sleepy heart as you throw a middle finger in his general direction before taking a sip. While your eyes clear as you look to his form sitting beside your lounging one, you find brown eyes flicking in his blue ones for a split moment that have you questioning how to smile. 
Shoving yourself upright to make more room, Horangi and Köing join you from upstairs. Their masks are slightly askew as you listen to their various bones crack as they stretch out like cats. Shaking your head and snapping a photo at their unique position beside one another, Alex whispers down for you to text that over to him. 
“You all sound like smashed soda cans- do get it checked,” Farah states in passing with full energy as she greets Matthew who’s cooking in the kitchen. You let out a light laugh through your nose in response before helping Matthew in the kitchen who gives you a thankful smile in return. 
--
In the next hours of suiting up and driving down to Alcove Block as the Scientist had mentioned during interrogation. Horangi, Köing and you sit separately following Farah’s truck ahead of you. The scouting goes smoothly besides a few slips from the team in the wet mud from last night's rainstorm. A few good chuckles later- you all are glad to be driving back not in one of your personal vehicles. Returning back to the house, the garden hose is turned on as you each spray each other and their gear down. The cold water causes you all to yelp playfully- spraying one another as the cold air greets the matching water. 
A race towards the showers later have you all cuddled up with the furnace firing at full blast. It would only be a few days before the other task forces and the rest of the shadow company's men and women joined you all for the next stage. One more week, you promised to yourself, one more week, is what you tell yourself while looking into each of their eyes. One more week, as you all fall asleep on top of one another, One more week.
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Lasting Pictures Series Masterlist
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mangowafflesss · 6 months
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I'm back, 🥺 please don't get tired of me 😘
Can I request another John price x pregnant reader. Where she's so big she can't even see her feet. One day shes feeling insecure and wants to shave her lady parts for John. She gets emotional and embarrassed because she can't see enough to get the job done. Well here comes hubby to save the day telling reader he doesn't give a damn if he has to go through a jungle or not (wouldn't be the first time 😉) but to make her feel better he helps her shave. Then enjoys his good work 🤭
Thank you so much, send love ❤️❤️❤️
Hiiii <3, more Price x Pregnant Reader coming up :)
♡ You were so big, it was annoying and you were fighting the tears already as you tried to shave your intimate area.
♡ You had stretched in different angles, dropped the razor twice and tried to see into the handheld mirror but nothing worked because your arms weren't long enough.
♡ You had given up completely on your legs and puffed at a fallen piece of hair away from your face.
♡ "JOHN!!!!" you screamed but it sounded like a pained cry as there were tears lodged in your throat.
♡ You could hear your husband running up the stairs at the speed of light and he burst into the bathroom with a concerned look on his face.
♡ "What's wrong honey? are you hurt? oh my... is the baby coming?" he asked rapidly as he tried to slow down his fast beating heart.
♡ "No... its just- I can't reach and I want to shave but I can't because of this STUPID BUMP!" you pointed aggressively at the baby bump in front of you.
♡ Stepping closer he puts his hands on your naked shoulders and pulls you towards him, wrapping his arms around you he places a kiss to your forehead then grabs your face softly "Would you like me to help you?" you give him a small nod and he kisses you on the nose before telling you to lay down in the bath.
♡ You do as he says and feel embarrassed all of sudden at the exposure of your bush *Inserts Dave Franco saying bushy pussy*
♡ ^^^ Sorry I literally wrote that and then fell asleep... I'm keeping it in tho.
♡ Johns hand smoothed over the skin of your prickly shin and worked open your legs, his hands still caressed your skin as he moved them up your thigh and gave it a squeeze.
♡ "You know this doesn't bother me in the slightest right?" he says while looking you in the eyes, you had to cover your face with your hands but he moved them away.
♡ "okay, okay I'll stop. Tell me what names you've got planned out" he changes the subject which you're glad about and start to say the names you like while he deals with the jungle you've got going on.
♡ "Josie is a lovely name. Okay I'm done" he smiles at you while giving your bump a kiss before helping you out of the bath.
♡ You waddle into the bedroom to find some clothes until you felt Johns hands come around your body from behind, he presses a kiss to your cheek then neck and you sigh when you feel him lift your stomach slightly.
NSFW BELOW
♡ "Fuck that feels good" you hear him chuckle in your ear before he takes you over to the bed and lays you on your back "Well I have other ways to make you feel good"
♡ Licking his lips he kisses your bump again before sinking down the bed and settling himself between your plush thighs. He inhales your scent before flattening his tongue and running it up the length of your pussy making it glisten with his saliva.
♡ His tongue flicks over your clit, sucking and circling the small nub. You moan out his name and he smiles into your dripping pussy as he continues to run his tongue all over you.
♡ Delving into your warm, leaking cunt his tongue finds your favourite spot which makes you into a whimpering mess, you pant out as he continues to fuck you with his tongue.
♡ "Fuck- John! I'm gonna" you couldn't get the words out as you gripped onto the sheets beside you, your thighs threatening to clamp around his head but his strong hands have them tied down.
♡ "C'mon baby, cum on me" his hands grope the skin of your thighs as you let go and cum all over your husbands gorgeous face. He swipes as much up as he can and reemerges in your eye line with a cheeky grin on his face.
♡ "I think I did a good job" he says proudly as your see your cum shining in his beard.
♡ God you really loved your husband.
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