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#being in his side for the first time ... i am a changed man
propertyofwicked · 22 hours
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FIRST - LN
lando discovers his bestfriends little sister is a virgin, and will stop at no lengths to change that (and ruin her for anyone else)
warnings: smut!! MDNI!! virgin reader, fewtrell!sister, mostly soft smut with a small innocence kink
✧ it's officially assignment szn and ur girl is STRESSED. my posts wont be as frequent for a while but i am currently creating a backlog of things to post! ✧
masterlist the playlist
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“ok, y/n - truth or dare?” ria asked the girl from across the circle they sat in on the floor of max’s living room.
being so close in age to her older brother, y/n fewtrell fit in well with his friendship group, often preferring to hang out with them over her own friends. a few others were dotted around the house, P and a couple girls using the kitchen. they were all due to head to a club soon, only using max’s house to pre drink as he lived closest.
“truth,” she responded, giggling slightly as the alcohol began to turn her tipsy - not drunk, just jolly she had told max when he last checked on her.
“where is the weirdest place you’ve had sex?” ria asked, giggling to herself at the rest of the group laughed, turning to face y/n for her answer. she went silent, heat rising her face gradually. her eyes scanned the group, everyone staring expectantly at her - only max avoided her gaze, looking at his phone to queue songs to the playlist.
“i- uh, well i guess i…haven’t?” she replied, wishing the ground would open up and swallow her whole. she didn’t know why she was so embarrassed - she was 19, almost 20, and it seemed that everyone around her was coupled up, or at least active in that department. and, it hadn’t been through lack of trying, every man she had almost been with had found out and used it to get to who she was related to - and subsequently, lando - or gave her the ick before they got the chance to.
“what do you mean you haven’t?!” niran had laughed out, he hadn’t meant to laugh, he just couldn’t believe it.
“i ju-”
“ok can we stop quizzing my little sister on her sex life? please,” max interrupted, y/n sighing out a breath of relief when they finally moved to the next person. her eyes scouted across the group of people, glad to see them all distracted and no longer giving her the sympathy eyes over her pathetic excuse of a love life.
in her embarrassment, however, y/n missed the way lando’s eyes had darted to look at her when she had answered, missing the way they darkened slightly at the revelation. he shook the thoughts plaguing his mind away, focusing on keeping his face neutral as he watched the blush rising her cheeks.
she didn’t miss the way his eyes followed her as she snuck out the room, however. she’d hope no one would notice her sneaking into the kitchen, smiling at P before swiping a bottle of something and heading to the garden, legs landing gracefully to sit on a step.
this was not the first time she had dwelled on this, but this time, she could at least comfort the blow of her overactive brain by drinking - or so she thought. as not a moment after she’d removed the cap, the bottle was being snatched from her hands and closely inspected by a man towering above her crouched body.
“this smells like ass, y/n - are you sure you wanna drink it?” lando asked her, lowering himself to sit on the step next to her. the sky was darkening, stars filling the vast blackness.
“yes im sure, thanks dad,” she mocked him, arms reaching over to snatch the bottle from him, but once again, he moved his arm out, stretching the bottle further from her reach.
“nuh uh!” lando said, shaking his head, “only when you tell me why you intend on drinking what im sure is the finest bottle of… £3.99 vodka - jesus, £3.99?”
“sorry mister ‘owns-2-mclarens-and-a-lambo’,” she replied, leaning further into his side in a desperate bid to get the bottle back - she wasn’t even sure she wanted to drink it anymore, she just wanted something to fiddle with when lando eventually forced her to talk to him.
“didn’t answer my question, darlin’” he told her, placing the bottle besides him as he removed one of his threaded bracelets, placing it in her exposed palm.
oh he knew her a little too well.
“i jus- no it’s so stupid,” she conceded, the bracelet twisting around her fingers. she stared directly at it, refusing to meet lando’s intense gaze.
“bet it’s not,” he told her, moving an arm to wrap around her when he felt the chill air brush his own skin.
“you know what’s worse than having to announce to your friends that you’re a lonely little virgin that no one wants? being the lonely little virgin. it’s so fucking embarrassing - i’m 19, hell i’m nearly 20 and when everyone around you has someone in their life, it’s so hard not to feel so behind in your own life, to feel completely unlovable, to constantly feel like there’s something wrong with you,” she breathed out, still refusing to make eye contact with the man besides her.
lando took in a deep breath, choosing his next words so carefully. his hand reached up to her chin, turning her face to look up at his.
“y/n, you are not unlovable, you’re not falling behind in life and there is certainly nothing wrong with you,” he told her, his tone harsh in attempt to knock some sense into her. she shook her head at him in disbelief, his hand dropping back to his side.
“see, i really want to believe you but the evidence isn’t really stacking up in support of your argument. if that was true, i probably wouldn’t be sat in my brother’s back garden throwing myself a pity party.”
“i think your brother might’ve had a part to play in this, if im honest y/n,” lando said, slipping up slightly. she paused at his words, before her head shot round to look at him again.
“what? what do you mean max has something do with the fact no one wants me?”
“it’s not that no one wants you, y/n,” he sighed at her again before giving in, realising he’d already said too much to stop now, “it’s just that max has a bad habit of… threatening anyone who even mentions you in that way?” he added, his tone making it sound like he wasn’t even sure himself.
“threatening them?” she repeated, anger beginning to bubble up in her stomach.
“he’s only actually hit 2 of them - hell even ive had a close call with his fist a few times,” lando laughed, before realising what he’d indirectly admitted to. luckily, neither of them had time to dwell on it before the man in question popped his head round the door.
“what are you two losers doing out here?” he joked, before sensing some tension being thrown his way, “whatever, we’re leaving in a minute if you wanna get ready?”
“no thanks,” y/n told him, pushing herself up and beginning to walk past him.
“huh?” max replied, confused.
“i said, no thanks. wouldn’t wanna risk you punching anyone who shows the slightest interest in me,” she added, arms crossed over her chest as she glared at him. she turned quickly on her heel, walking off, ignoring the group as she trailed up to the spare bedroom.
the two boys shared a look between them, lando’s face holding that of apology whilst max’s was gradually moving to infuriated.
“what did you tell her?” max asked him, jaw clenching slightly.
“i didn’t mean to,” lando replied, throwing his arms out slightly as he stood up, “i just thought she ought to know that the reason boys don’t go for her is not because she is completely unlovable.”
“she said that?” max asked, startled slightly at the comment, “she thought she was unlovable?”
lando said nothing, throwing a simple nod at him before brushing past him and making his way to the front door.
y/n laid in her bed, her mind racing through the conversation with lando, like a record on repeat. she’d heard the rest of them leave the house almost an hour ago, leaving her to lay with her own thoughts once more.
there was nothing wrong with her, max just threatened anyone who came too close to her.
max had punched 2 guys who had tried to get with her.
max had tried to punch lando - wait, why had he tried to punch lando?
the sound of the front door opening, then quickly shutting again drew her from her thoughts, a natural panic spreading through her veins.
“hello?” she called out, confused as to who could be walking in the house right now. there was no response for a moment, the sound of footsteps climbing the stairs filled the silence.
“it’s just me, baby,” a voice called out, the childhood nickname letting her know it was lando approaching her bedroom. the name used to be max and lando’s attempt to tease the girl, calling her a baby when she cried after dropping her ice cream. that was when she was 7, but 13 years later, the nickname still stuck. somewhere along the line, the name had turned from mimicking to a term of endearment, blurring the lines of their friendship every time he called out to her.
“oh thank god, i thought you were a murderer,” she joked, her breathing easing as his head poked around the door, eyes meeting hers.
“you thought i was a murderer and chose to shout ‘hello’? brave, or stupid?” lando joked back.
“never let them know your next move,” y/n replied with a shrug, before noticing the way one of lando’s hands remained hidden behind the door, “whatcha got there?” she asked him, the way one would ask a dog who had something they shouldn’t.
“depends, are you gonna be nice to me?” he shot back.
“me? im always nice to you, lan,” an innocent smile built on her face.
“tell that to the scar on my back.”
“tell the scar on your back to get over it, it was 10 years ago,” she snorted as he moved further into the door frame.
“no ice cream for you then,” lando replied, smirking at her as he shrugged.
“you got ice cream?” she asked, eyes widening at him.
“thought you might wanna watch a film and forget about tonight with a flurry.”
“gimme,” y/n said, making grabby hands that would’ve been embarrassing had she not already had the worst night of her life.
“nuh uh, not until you’re nice to m-”
“oh get over here you drama queen,” she groaned at him, patting the spot next to her on the bed. lando would never say no to her, giving in so easily as he climbed under the blanket, an arm falling naturally behind her head as he did.
he began fiddling with the tv remote, scrolling through netflix for something to watch. y/n leant further into his embrace, her head settling lightly on his chest as she looked up at him.
“lan - why didn’t you stay at the club?” she asked quietly, fighting the urge to fiddle with her fingers, nervous at the thought of insinuating that he’d want to spend his evening with her instead.
“clubs are only good when you’re drunk,” lando replied with a shrug, eyes still focused on the tv, “id rather just be the designated driver and still be able to get up for training in the morning.”
his eyes flitted down at her quickly, glad she’d returned her gaze to the screen as if he’d seen her wide eyes staring up at him, lando doubted he’d be able to control himself. what she’d revealed earlier still flew around his brain as he fought desperately to shake away any thoughts of taking her innocence, ruining her for anyone else. god, he felt like a creep.
the two fell into a comfortable silence, both of them appearing to focus on the film playing in front of them. lando’s hand remained tightly around her waist, his hand moving beneath her shirt slightly for his fingers to trace circles into her skin. her head remained on his chest, each breath taking in the lingering smell of his aftershave.
“lan?” she broke the silence again, looking up at him once again.
“yes, baby?” he replied, eyes never straying from the screen.
“what did you mean earlier when you said max had even tried to punch you?”
his head shot down to look at her, feeling himself crumble slightly as her eyes stared widely up at him, her tired voice drawing him further into the trap. he could lie, tell her it was a misunderstanding. or he could tell her the truth, and pray it didn’t destroy his entire friendship with the fewtrell siblings.
“when you told me i wasn’t unlovable earlier, you really meant…” she asked, filling in for his silence. she trailed off at the end of her sentence, unwilling to get her hopes up.
“yeah.. so about that,” he said, trying to regain his confidence. she hit at his chest lightly, pushing herself to sit up and look at his face clearer than ever.
“how long?” she asked him with unwavering eye contact.
“longer than i want to admit,” lando replied, smiling at her awkwardly, “and i understand if you don’t fe-”
“kiss me.”
“wha-”
“you heard me,” she told him before joining their lips apprehensively. it started off slow, both testing the waters before falling into a steady pace. his tongue swiped her bottom lip softly, deepening the kiss as his hand raised to hold her jaw. she stifled a moan, embarrassed at the way her body was reacting to the slightest touch.
“don’t get shy on me now, baby,” he told her, hands dropping to her waist, “come ‘ere.”
lando’s hands settled on her hips, fingers gripping at them slightly to guide her onto his lap. as she settled into the new position, he kissed her again, gentle in the way he pulled her in closer, his free hand disappearing under her shirt to draw circles into her skin once more. her hips instinctively rolled into his at the feeling, and he gripped at her skin harder, a small groan escaping his mouth.
“fuck, keep that up and i won’t be able to stop,” he warned her as she rolled her hips again. his head dropped to her jaw, pressing soft kisses along the skin.
“what if i don’t want this to stop?” she asked him, causing him to pause, looking up at her softly.
“are you sure?” he asking, checking her face for any sign of hesitancy. she nodded at him before speaking.
“there’s no one i trust more.”
with her reassurance, lando flipped the top of them over, trailing kisses down her neck as he hovered above her.
“we’ll go slow,” he told her as he pulled at her t-shirt, tugging the fabric up her torso, “wanted this for so long. gonna take my time with you,” he mumbled, pressing soft kisses to the skin of her stomach. her back arched into him slightly, helping him remove her top fully. y/n felt exposed, more so than usual. had it not been for lando’s large hands snaking up to grab at her breasts, she would’ve used her own to shield her nudity.
“so gorgeous,” he mumbled again, before dipping his head to take one of her nipples in his mouth, tongue flicking at it, his fingers tugged at the other. he pushed himself back up, re joining their lips in a sweet kiss.
“gonna make you feel good, alright?” he asked her, watching the way her head nodded at him, “yeah? need you to use your words from now on baby.”
“think you should take your top off now,” she told him, her confidence returning slightly, “seems a bit unfair,” she added, jokingly pointing at her own exposed chest.
“so it is,” he agreed, sitting back on his knees as his hands gripped the bottom of his own t-shirt, lifting it over his head. the material landed on the floor, but y/n couldn’t care less - she was much more focused on the way his muscles looked, a combination of his tan and the soft fairy lights illuminating his features in a way that had her stomach rolling for him.
“oi! my eyes are up here,” he joked, settling himself between her legs. lando’s hands trailed up the exposed skin of her thighs, dragging his fingers slowly. her hips jutted up slightly at the sensation, a satisfied smirking fighting its way onto lando’s face.
“this ok?” he asked her, hands toying with the waistband of her shorts.
“yeah,” she breathed out, anticipation beginning to get the better of her as he began pulling the material away from her heat.
“tell me to stop and i’ll stop,” lando told her, discarding her shorts with his top, before adjusting his gaze to her, “just relax f’me. breathe,” he added, noticing the way her chest had frozen, breath caught in her throat. a finger ran through her folds softly, her hips rolling slightly at the sudden feeling of his rough finger pad circling her clit. his movements stopped for a moment as he moved back up her body, kissing her softly as he gathered her slick along his fingers.
“so wet for me,” he told her, kissing at her jaw, “gonna get you ready for me, ok?”
“please, lan,” she begged, panting slightly as his fingers circled her heat again, pressing into her slightly. it’s not like she hadn’t done this before on herself, which was potentially her downfall the moment he pressed a finger into her, the stretch unexpected. lando’s face pressed into her neck, kissing a trail along the skin as he pumped his finger a few times. he could hear every noise she made for him so clearly, drawing him to push a second finger into her, feeling the way her walls clamped around him.
“im ready, lan, please just fuck me,” she begged him, panting in between her words. he could’ve passed out her words, blood rushing from his brain and straight to his cock. his body pushed back up, standing quickly to remove the rest of his clothes. her hands halted him as they reached out and grabbed at the waist band of his joggers, pulling them down slowly as the pressure of his cock strained against the tight material. he helped her remove them fully, her spare hand adding difficulty as she palmed him through his boxers.
“fuck, angel,” he groaned, careful not to overwhelm her as she pulled at his boxers, tugging them down as she had his joggers. however they soon established his noises were not as overwhelming as the size of his cock - her eyes widening as she came face to face with it, her finger running down the thick vein that travelled his length.
“like what you see?” he joked in attempt to ease her nerves.
“how-? is that gonna fit?” she stuttered, gaze travelling down to her stomach as if she were trying to size herself up.
“im sure we’ll make it work,” he replied, hand reaching to her chin, forcing her to look back up at him, “remember, we can stop whenever.”
she nodded at him, before reaching up, looping her arms around his neck to pull him into a kiss. he used the leverage to lay her back down, hovering over her once again as he rested on his forearm. without breaking the kiss, he reached down, guiding his cock through her folds a few times before settling the tip at her entrance.
“you sure?” lando checked again, searching her face for any last minute apprehension.
“are you sure?” she retorted, her smile illuminated by the moons glow, “can’t imagine fucking a virgin is high on your bucket list.”
“you’d be surprised,” he responded, mumbling slightly, his cock throbbed in his hand. he began lowering his hips, pushing into her slowly, low grunts falling from his lips as he disappeared further inside her.
“breathe baby, breathe for me,” he told her, feeling the way her body had tensed, her chest stilling as she inhaled deeply, “feel so good.”
lando waited a moment, watching the way her face softened, his necklace dangling dangerously around her lips. he started moving at a gentle pace, careful to listen to her responses.
“feels good,” she told him, eyes looking into his.
“yeah? ‘my the first person to make you feel good?” he asked, baiting her slightly.
“yes, fuck lan. only you.”
he close to lost it, his brain short circuiting at her words. he began to move faster in her, relishing in the way she moaned his name, her walls contracting around his cock. his hand reached between the two of them, fingers flicking at her clit before drawing pressured circles around her heat.
“faster, lan, please,” y/n begged him, her hand raising to tug at his curls.
“gonna ruin you for anyone else, angel,” he grunted, hips snapping into hers at a brutal pace, his eyes focused on the way her breasts moved in unison with his thrusts.
lando felt his high coming quicker than he could ever remember, feeling the way her grip on his bicep tightened and her breathing became more sporadic letting him know she was close too.
“you wanna cum with me?” he asked her, his tone soft whilst his pace remained rough, his fingers beginning to trace his own name on her clit. it gave him a sense of ownership over her, an invisible trace of him that would linger on her sensitivity forever - and she loved it, whining at the feeling of his skin on hers.
“please, fuck. wanna cum,” she told him, eyes shutting as her head rolled back. lando’s head dropped to her exposed neck, his teeth nipping at the skin before he titled his head further, mouth landing on the flesh of her breast. he’d quickly realised that leaving visible mark on his best friends little sister was potentially not the smartest idea, choosing to nip at the skin of her tit, mouth sucking the flesh into his lips as he did. his raised himself up again, admiring the way blood ran to the surface of her skin, only imagining the way she’d look when a bruise formed on the spot.
“only me?” he asked her, hand moving to grip her jaw, dark eyes locking with hers.
“only you,” she replied in a breathless moan.
“good girl,” he said, feeling the way her hips rolled up into his, heat running through her entire body as her climax washed over her. y/n shook around him lightly, her stomach spasming as she rode out her high, but lando couldn’t stop and admire the view. he pulled out quickly, feeling his own high rising in his cock, both of their eyes glued on the way his cock shot out ropes of cum that landed on her stomach.
“so….” she started, trying to fill the somewhat awkward tension in the room.
“we are so doing that again,” he said with a chuckle and he moved to locate his joggers on the floor.
“oh absolutely,” she replied, laughing with him as the fear of him leaving her washed away, though her eyebrow quirked up at him as he shuffled to the door.
“just grabbing a cloth. gotta get you cleaned up so we can finish the film,” he added with a smile.
minutes later, they were both sat back in the bed, her legs thrown over his lap as one hand grazed the skin of his back lightly, lando’s hand running up and down her thigh in a similar fashion. they sat in a comfortable silence, knowing that eventually they would need to discuss the future of this, the future of them, but for now lando relished in the way her hand continuously stroked at the same spot on his back. the same spot - he internally questioned.
“watcha doing?” he finally asked, curious to her supposed fixation on his left shoulder blade.
“apologising to the scar on your back?” she retorted, circling back to their earlier conversation.
“never apologise for anything ever again,” he mumbled into her hair, before pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
“what if i murdered your entire family?” she piped up.
“i support women’s rights and their wrongs.”
“preach.”
-
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risuola · 3 days
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▶ BOUNDARIES — the day when Suguru entered the shower with you.
contents: college!au, roommates — 1,3k words
𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 | series masterlist
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“Don’t freak out.”
You blame it on the water. Hot, steamy and falling right onto your head, your reaching up face and the hum of it filling your ears. A monotone murmur of drops pitter-pattering and bouncing off your exposed skin — it made you disconnect. A moment of relaxation, and it worked wonders to your body, your tensed up muscles, your clattered thoughts. It quieted you down, made your breath slower, soothed the hectic beat of your heart — effect of an unpleasant confrontation with your classmate in the morning. A girl upset and nervous, jealous and heated, took it all out on you and you couldn’t do nothing but take it. Wasn’t the first time, certainly not the last as well and over the years you grew to tolerate this sort of events as they were inevitable, they came along the very close friendship you shared with your boys. It’s fine, you always tell them and it is, in fact, fine, but the attack you endured just two hours before was oddly, unnecessarily personal and it stung.
You took it under the shower, making use of the empty apartment — both Satoru and Suguru being out for classes and practice — and just enjoying the sizzling hot water warming your skin. It was comforting, meditative almost, and nearly as soothing as a cuddle session. It felt good. So very good that when the environment changed suddenly, your heart dropped to your stomach.
“Suguru?” Your head snapped to the side, your entire body flinched in shock as the matted glass of the shower doors moved and you caught a frame twice your size entering the tight area of the stall. The sight of your roommate somewhat calmed you down. “What is happening?”
“I’m sorry sweets, I really am, but I called you, knocked, but you didn’t hear and I really need to wash up quick and run,” your friend explained, his tone more frantic than you’re used to and for few moments you watched him, frozen. He was already lathering shower gel over his body. Intense scent of skincare filled in the steamy air with a mixture of fresh seagrass and coconut, and soon you snapped out of the haze.
“Sorry, I didn’t hear,” you said dumbly, still very much confused, confirming his words and shifting a little closer to the wall, making more space for him.
It was awkward — it should be — but somehow, you felt at ease with him there. It was the very first time you saw him fully naked, and vice versa, but Suguru was a safe space and besides a heat that creeped right up your cheeks, that surely got lost in the flush you already had from the hot stream of water, you weren’t too worried. Tearing your eyes off his muscular, strong built — a sculpture carved out of the finest marble — proved itself to be the most difficult as you handed him the showerhead.
“Yeah, I noticed,” he said, already washing off the fluff and bubbles of his shower gel. “They moved the lecture for earlier, I had to cut my training short and I just couldn’t go all sweaty. I’m really sorry sweets, I’ll apologize properly later, okay?”
“It’s all fine. Good luck, Sug,” you offered him a soft smile and took the sprayer back as the man moved to exit. Before he left completely, and despite the rush he was in, he managed to spare a second to press a tender kiss to your temple.
It wouldn’t be Suguru if he didn’t make time to smother you with love.
“You’re gorgeous by the way. See ya later!” And he was gone, just like that, leaving you flushed and so very confused, in a cloud of heated condensation and empty cage of tiles.
* * *
Few hours passed until the lonely, quiet apartment filled up with the playful banter that seems to never end whenever your roommates are together — which is a lot. You were already in bed, nuzzled against the pillows and wrapped in blankets. Tired. You were so tired after that day, the few classes you had to attend to after the shower sucked the life out of you. It piled up — the tension between you and your classmate, the unannounced test from one of the subjects you don’t particularly like nor study for, the rain that caught you in the middle of your relatively short way home from the college and the absurdly microscopic amount of cheese in the absurdly overpriced cheese sandwich you bought in a rush. Should’ve taken the ham.
But the day was soon over and it’s a matter of minutes now until you’ll be able to truly rest in a safe and moderately suffocating embrace of long limbs and warm bodies. The sleeping dilemma that at first seemed to be the greatest worry about the apartment, now was your favorite aspect of it — you often find yourself longing for the late night hours, especially on days like this one. You like the everlasting amount of heat that your friends produced and even though you were often trapped or squished, you wouldn’t have it any other way.
“Hey,” a soft, honey-like tone reached your ears and forced you to lift up the heavy eyelids. You smiled seeing Suguru’s gorgeous features and feeling his fingers along your cheekbone. “Are you angry at me?”
“Huh? Why?” You asked, moving towards him, lifting your head just slightly to study him more. He looked troubled, worried and you couldn’t place it. What was the reason?
“For the shower situation from earlier?”
“Oh… no, god, absolutely not,” you shook your head and dropped the weight of it back onto the pillowy clouds. “I don’t care if you see me naked, don’t worry about it.”
“Either way, I bought you the chocolate you like so much.”
Chocolate.
“The diabetic bomb?”
“Yeah, that one,” the boy smiled and showed you the gift. A bar of the most divine chocolate you’ve ever eaten — expensive too — filled with sinfully decadent, luscious coconut mousse and little pieces of gooey caramel chunks. A diabetic bomb, as Suguru always mocks it, because in a scale from zero to ten, its sweetness is easily a sixteen.
Suguru ripped the package open and broke off a piece, putting it into your waiting mouth and you moaned. It was sublime, it was posh and sensual. It could easily be an aphrodisiac. A heaven, melting slowly on your tongue, spreading its glory across your very soul and you melted with it. It felt like a sin, it felt wrong and so, so right.
“You didn’t need to buy me anything, Sug,” you spoke finally, once your senses came back from the trip of pure, primal pleasure. “But I do appreciate it even though I should be the one to apologize. I didn’t hear you.”
“You know that I wouldn’t push your boundaries like that if it wasn’t so very urgent.”
“I know and also, I told you already, I don’t care about any of you seeing me naked,” you said it again, reaching your hand to brush a piece of his bangs away from his eyes. He smiled and for a moment his eyes drifted away and you kind of knew what to expect.
“Who’s naked?” Satoru’s cheerfully cocky voice cut through the gentle atmosphere like a lovable razor and you felt the bed yielding underneath his weight as he climbed on and dropped right behind you. His body pressed tightly to your backside, his arm wrapped securely around your blanket-wrapped form and he pulled you towards himself, leaning his head over your shoulder and smothering your cheek with kisses. Affectionate. Suffocating. “I heard our roomie had a bad day, huh?”
“It’s fine now,” you chuckled, reaching up and ruffling his white, short hair, messing it up even more than it already was.
“Our poor little mochi, it’s alright now,” he cooed, teasingly sweet and then, in his very usual behavior, he tried to bite your cheek but you were quicker, stuffing his open mouth with a piece of chocolate. Suguru managed to roll his eyes and left you unattended with a bar of divine candy and your gluttonous friend. “Oh my god that is good.”
Safe to say, the chocolate didn’t stand a chance against you and Satoru.
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taglist: @kibananya, @r0ckst4rjk, @rixo-19, @soraya-daydreams, @hyun0200, @ilykii, @roscpctals99, @mushkasstuff, @siimp4youu, @juicedcherry, @themoreeviltwin, @stevenknightmarc, @ms5m1th
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bellasprettywords · 22 hours
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A different way to say I love you (Spencer Reid x Reader)
As always, this is not proofread because of who I am as a person
My masterlist
Warnings: Little mentions of alcohol and overall fluff
Word count: 1,037 (ish because there are emojis)
y/n – your name
Gender-neutral reader
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The first time Spencer Reid told you he loved you, he didn’t do it with words…
It was Penelope’s birthday and the whole gang went out clubbing. You were a little more drunk than you normally would’ve liked considering you were out with your bosses, and your best friend who at the same time was the man you loved: Spencer Reid. Spencer was on y/n watch duty, considering he has always been protective of you, that he didn’t drink much, and that public settings like clubs made him on edge.
“We should get going, sweetie” you heard Spencer whisper in your ear
“I don’t wanna go yeeeet, I feel like daaancing” you said standing from the barstool and pulling Spencer’s arm into the dancefloor
“Woah woah, I’m not much of a dancer” he said nervously
“Just relax, let me lead you” you said as you placed his hands on your waist and danced wrapped around the arms of the man you loved from a distance. After a couple of hours, you were beat, so finally agreed to Spencer’s suggestion and accepted to share a cab with your best friend.
The two of you were in the back of the taxi, your head leaning on your best friend’s shoulder and you could perfectly smell the intoxication scent of wood, musk, and a little of alcohol that more than one person had spilled over Spencer at the club. You were holding hands, which wasn’t weird, as you pretty much had gotten Spence used to physical touch, and since he had become comfortable with it, the two of you were always touching some part of each other
“Is everything okay?” Spencer asked, tilting his head so he could get a better looked at you
“Yeah, I’m just a little tired” you said giving Spencer a small smile, there was something conforming about being there, next to each other, just softly caressing each other, without saying anything. At that moment, you felt Spencer squeezing your hand softly three times.
Spencer helped you up to your apartment, you were still tipsy from the night out, and he wanted to make sure you got safely to bed. Stumbling, Spencer opened the door of your apartment, and helped you in
“Let’s get you to bed, sweetie” Spencer said chucking at the sight of you walking through your furniture, trying not to stumble
“Thank you for taking such good care of me” you said, gifting Spencer a lazy smile
“Come on, we have to tuck you in” Spencer said leading you into your room, the same room he had been at least a thousand times, at the end of the day, being your best friend meant constantly coming over
“Wait, I have to get on my jammies” you said pulling away from Spencer
“Alright, I’m going to leave you for a while, so you can get changed” he said, leaving your room, closing the door behind him, and feeling his cheeks getting red and hot at the thought of you changing.
You were taking off your pants, when you stumbled and fell to the side of your bed; and with the sound of the stumble, Reid entered your room swiftly, helping you up
“Are you okay?” Spencer looked concerned, scanning your body trying to make sure you were alright after the stumble
“I’m fine, you shouldn’t worry too much, mighty Doctor Reid” you said, burying your face into Spencer’s neck and chuckling at the situation. Spencer was now sitting on your bed, with your pantless body plastered over his, at this moment, you were just inches from his lips, and you could feel his eyes, scanning your face, and body
“Come on, let me help you get changed” Spencer said gulping loudly, feeling his cheeks burning up
“Fine, you can help me, but no peaking” you said and both of you shared a laugh, as Spencer helped you get into your pjs
“I’m going to head out” Spencer said standing next to the door frame of your bedroom
“Don’t leave just yet, lay down with me for a little while” you pleaded Spencer making room on your bed for him
“I’ll stay, but only for a little while, I have to get back home” he said, taking off his shoes and getting into bed with you. You could feel Spencer’s arms around you, caressing you and making you feel safe
“Can I ask you something?” you said, turning to him so you could face him
“Of course, anything for you” he replied fixing a strand of your hair
“Why do you squeeze my hand three times? It’s not the first time I feel you doing it” you asked, and you felt Spencer’s hand reach to you
“It means: I. Love. You” Spencer said, squeezing your hand one time per word
“In that case: I. Love. You. Too” you replied, squeezing Spencer’s hand four times
✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
Life was great for Doctor Spencer Reid lately, his social abilities had increased, you were finally a couple after quite a while of pining over each other, and he was finally feeling like he fit in somewhere. Nonetheless, anxiety was an immense part of Spencer Reid’s life. Especially because working at the BAU, his genius mind would constantly speed, and sometimes, without even realizing it, he would spiral into horrific scenarios. Sure,
You were on a briefing. JJ and Hotch were explaining the details of the new case you’d work on, and you could tell something was off with Spencer. When cases involved children, he’d get overly anxious, and as you were holding hands, you could feel his palms getting sweatier and sweatier. You didn’t want to give away the fact that Spencer was struggling with coping as the case was being revising, so you did the one thing you knew would make him feel better:
You squeezed his hand three times; and when you felt him squeezing your hand four times in return, you searched for Spencer’s eyes, and once you found them, you gave him a reassuring smile, just to let him know everything would be okay.
The meeting ended and Spencer and you left the room together, to prepare your bags as Hotch called wheels on 30 minutes. Spencer and you were picking your stuff from your adjacent desks when you heard him saying:
“I always hoped I would be lucky enough to find someone who I could say “I love you”, even when words are too much”
"I love you too, Spence" you said, placing a soft kiss on your boyfriend's lips before departing
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birinboom · 1 day
Text
The Luck-Bringing Cat
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Jing Yuan x Fem!Reader; a shy former imperial concubine
The Apothecary Diaries-esque AU (I am kinda-sorta stealing this plotline from ep. 3), arranged marriage, budding romance, domestic fluff, pet names (JY calls Reader my dear, my love), Reader is also referred to as ‘my lady’ 🌿 3.162 words
Jing Yuan, a famed general and childhood friend of the emperor, has yet to take a wife. The emperor decides to solve this by giving one of his least favorite concubines to his best friend. Even though Jing Yuan is against this practice, he can't help but fall head over heels in love once he meets you.
Thank you so much to @a11eya for beta-reading this for me!
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Only one man had managed to stay at the emperor’s side through most of his life. Jing Yuan, the son of imperial scholars, made friends with the crown prince early in their lives, and they quickly became inseparable. As they aged, Jing Yuan became an asset to the newly crowned emperor; a seasoned warrior, an accomplished general, a brilliant strategist, and one of the few people who dared oppose the monarch when needed. 
The emperor loved him like a brother. And it worried him that Jing Yuan never seemed interested in taking a wife. The general was far from blind to the longing gazes of the women of the court, he accepted their offers on occasion but he never seemed to want more than one or two nights with any woman. The emperor did not see anything wrong with this as he himself split his time more or less equally between his favorite concubines. But any man who was less fortunate than the emperor should surely want something more stable, especially a man who was slowly getting through his best age.
When Jing Yuan was pressed about why he did not want to marry, he stated with a lazy smile that he had neither the time nor the energy for that kind of courtship. But the emperor saw the slight downturn of the corners of the general’s lips. He saw through the facade of his best and oldest friend. 
I have neither the time nor the energy for that kind of courtship. But I desperately wish I did.
The emperor thought deeply about this issue. Then he remembered someone in the inner court. A concubine who had fallen from his favor at their first meeting. He had never spent time with you after that. Why, he had barely thought about you in years. Still, you were a beautiful woman, well-educated, and, from what he had been told, quite quick-witted. You would make a good gift for his best friend.
Now he just needed to convince Jing Yuan that he would not take no for an answer.
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Jing Yuan was still unable to fully understand how everything had come to this. He could not fathom why the emperor suddenly wanted to give him one of the imperial concubines as a wife. Giving an unfavored concubine to a newly appointed officer as a reward was far from an uncommon practice, Jing Yuan was well aware of that. But he had never expected it to happen to him, not after so many years in service of the emperor. He had been lucky to manage arranging a meeting with you before the wedding. 
This practice seemed so wholly unfair in his mind. Unfair to you and any other concubines affected by the custom. You had already been given as a gift to one man, now you were being given to another, neither of whom you had chosen for yourself. Jing Yuan knew there was little he could do about the situation, but he did not feel right accepting another human being as a gift.   
He continued towards the palace gardens which had been chosen as the meeting place, still in deep speculation about whether he had any chance of changing the emperor’s mind. 
Turning a corner, he was torn out of his thoughts when he came upon a small gathering of women, all of them wearing identical robes. One held a folded-up parasol. They were all calling out to someone in voices too hushed for Jing Yuan to discern any words. 
Ladies-in-waiting, he thought, paying them little mind. Then, his eyes fell on you.
The emperor had shown him a painting of you, commissioned shortly before you had begun your journey to the palace. Even if some years had passed since then, Jing Yuan still instantly recognized you.
You stood at the top of a small bridge crossing one of the many creeks in the garden, your face tilted up towards a nearby tree. The setting autumn sun fell upon you at an angle that made your skin and hair glow. Tearing his gaze away from you, Jing Yuan looked towards the tree as well, his trained ears picking up the song of finches. For a moment he wondered if it might be the same flock that visited the small garden of his own residence. Turning his eyes back to you, he watched as you lifted a hand, holding it up towards the tree. A finch took off from a branch and landed on one of your outstretched fingers.
Until now your face had been mostly devoid of emotion, eyes fixed on the tree. But when the finch landed on your hand, looking calmly at you with one black eye, your features softened, a fond smile gracing your face like the sun appearing from behind rain clouds. 
Jing Yuan watched you lift the bird closer to your face, whispering to it, your other hand coming up to gently scratch the top of its head. He unconsciously raised a hand to his lips in an attempt to hide the smile blooming there. If this was how you behaved with one of his beloved finches (and he was certain at this point that the bird was indeed from the flock he possessively thought of as his), if you acted so kind and loving towards the smallest of creatures with no prompting, then marrying you could quite possibly be one of the best things to ever happen to him. The thought of having you gifted to him still felt wrong, but… perhaps he did not need to dread it as much as he had at first.
Stepping forward, he cleared his throat, trying his best to school his features into a pleasant, if slightly detached, expression. 
You gasped, raising your arm to hide your face behind your long sleeve. The finch took off, frightened by your sudden movement, and the rest of the flock followed it. The flapping of their wings filled the air, drowning out your greeting as you and your ladies-in-waiting bowed to him.
Jing Yuan felt another smile tug at his lips. He managed to hide it behind his hair as he returned your bow.
Your ladies-in-waiting quickly moved to one side of the walkway, letting him pass. He looked at you as he ascended the bridge. The way you peeked shyly at him over your still-raised sleeve made his heart clench. He sent you what he hoped was a pleasant smile, and nodded towards the path on the opposite side.
“Shall we, my lady?”
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The two of you strolled along the garden path for a while, Jing Yuan filling the air with what idle conversation he could think of, and you giving brief, shy answers.
Then, he heard the flap of wings and felt the touch of tiny claws digging into his hair, brushing against his scalp. Soon, he felt a small tug as the finch began to preen him. He could barely help but chuckle when another finch landed on his shoulder. He felt your gaze on him, then your eyes moved to the bird on his far shoulder.
“Oh!” you exhaled.
Raising his opposite hand, he gently encouraged the bird to hop onto one of his fingers, then moved the hand -with bird- closer to you.
“I have worked quite hard on taming them over the years,” he said. “The most recent brood is the tamest yet; they are the only ones so far to actively seek my presence. Though I suspect they only come to me in hopes of food. Would you like to hold it again?”
You looked away, your sleeve rising once more to hide your face. “Again…” you said, sounding very put on the spot.
Jing Yuan tried to quell his laughter. “I must admit that I was watching you for a moment before making my presence known. What I saw was very… endearing.” 
You were silent for a while, then you peeked at him over the top of your sleeve. “May I be frank with you, General?”
He nodded. “Please.”
Staying quiet for a few seconds, you then drew in a deep breath. “I was rather nervous about this meeting. I have heard quite a few rumors about you, about your excellence at anything you do. And I was worried that I might not be able to live up to the expectations of the august general. But… You handle these birds with such tenderness and care. They trust you. Maybe they can trust me too, in time.”
Looking off to the side, you finally lowered your sleeve, clasping your hands in front of you. “I am very fond of small animals. My family owned a couple of tame nightingales when I was a child; I used to love falling asleep while listening to their singing.”
He felt another smile tug at his lips. He too had pleasant memories of falling asleep to the sound of bird song as a child. Though in his case it had been the wild birds outside his windows lulling him to sleep. Sharing such a similar memory with you only made him feel delighted.
Briefly peeking at him, as if to judge his reaction to your words, you then continued, “I have always yearned for a cat too, but my parents would not allow it because of our birds. And I never mustered up the courage to request permission to keep a cat after I arrived at the inner court. Though I doubt the emperor would have indulged me.” You sighed ruefully. “I suppose even now, since birds are favored once again, a pet cat will be impossible. The birds will be enough.”
Jing Yuan looked at you for a moment, stroking his chin. “A cat is a pleasant idea. As the saying goes, ‘a cat well cared for may bring luck to its owner.’ Though if I had my way I should like a lion instead!” When he saw your eyes widen, your mouth starting to open in surprise, he could not stop himself from laughing once more. “I jest, I merely jest! A housecat will suffice! Perhaps we can teach it to leave the birds in peace, or keep it indoors at all times.”
The thought of keeping a cat locked inside, though he doubted it was truly achievable, brought his thoughts back to the way you had been hidden away in the inner court for years. His smile faltered. Would it be right for him to mention his hesitation? Would it assuage you to know that he was far from satisfied with how the situation was handled?
“If I may be so bold, my lady… You were not the only one who had a certain level of apprehension about this meeting.”
You shrank back a little, shoulders slumping. “I… see.”
Jing Yuan saw you raise your hand again, he could only assume to hide your face once more. Without fully realizing what he was doing, he reached out to take your hand in his.
“Please, do not misunderstand me, my dear! It is not because of you, it is the entire situation. I do not much like being given another person as a gift. And I find it wholly unfair to you to be given away once again.” 
He had so much more to say on this subject, so many points to make about how the former concubines nearly always came out as the losers in these circumstances. And yet he felt his mind go blank. He brushed his thumb over the back of your hand in an attempt to gather his thoughts. It had the opposite effect. Your hand was softer and more delicate than he could have ever imagined; so different from his own strong, calloused hands. It took every last shred of self control to not raise it to his lips. 
Releasing your hand with great reluctance, he forced himself to finish his thoughts. “I am loath to receive a wife under such circumstances, even if she is one I should have quite liked to court of my own volition, had I been allowed to. But in the end it is His Majesty’s decision. Even so, I can promise you this, my dear: No matter what may come, I will always do my utmost to ensure that we are both happy with this union.”
You grasped the hand he had held with your free hand, rubbing the skin, your head bowed enough that he could not see your expression.
“I-I…”
Then you raised your head again, a small smile tugging at your lips. “I must admit, I am quite relieved that you feel that way. That you understand the situation from my point of view too.”
Jing Yuan returned your smile. “As much as I am against this entire circumstance, I must admit… the more I get to know you, my dear, the more I am looking forward to you becoming my wife.”
The two of you talked for a while longer, then Jing Yuan escorted you and your ladies-in-waiting back to the inner court. Seeing the gate leading to the inner court left him with a sense of melancholy he could not quite place. Perhaps he had already grown so accustomed to your presence that the thought of being without you left him empty. It made him look forward to your wedding day even more.
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One early morning, some six months later, Jing Yuan was found crouched over a rosebush in the small garden of his residence, pruning shears in hand. It was something he refused to give up, no matter how many people told him it was below his rank to tend to his own garden. Gardening was one of the few things that truly cleared his mind, one of the few still moments of the day that allowed him to relax. And today, he needed it.
He had already spent several hours lying awake, tossing and turning, his mind whirring, until finally giving up on sleep once he heard the first birds singing outside. Rolling over, he pressed a kiss against your bare shoulder, then left the bed to start his day.
The air outside was cold enough that his breath created little puffs of mist, the remnants of frost biting his cheeks. He paid it little mind; it helped clear his head. And so, he crouched over the few bushes that needed pruning this early in spring, settling into a calming rhythm as the world around him slowly grew from a milky gray to pink and orange.
His rhythm was disturbed as something brushed up against his knee. Looking down, he spotted the white kitten he had presented to you on your wedding day, just a few days before the new year began. You had been infatuated with the cat (as had he, as were both of you even now), and you had aptly named it Snowmoon in honor of the full moon hanging in the sky, casting lambent light over the snow-covered ground of the garden outside your windows.
The memory of that night still made him smile.
Snowmoon raised itself on its hind legs, the little bell on its collar jingling. It propped its front paws against his knee, and chirped imploringly. Jing Yuan could only assume that he had been so engrossed in his gardening that the sound of the bell had gone unnoticed.
How did you get out? he wondered as he picked up the kitten, holding it up in front of him. 
The kitten returned his gaze evenly with its brilliantly blue eyes and began to purr. Cradling it to his chest, he stood, intending to put the cat back inside. It had yet to learn that the birds of the garden were off-limits. And the birds had yet to learn what the sound of the bell signified.
But as he stood, he caught sight of another figure in the morning light. You were bundled up in several layers of clothing, seemingly ready to spend a while outside.
Jing Yuan frowned. “What are you doing out of bed, my love?” he asked. “It is still so early.”
You looked away, trying to hide the shy smile forming on your lips. You were still not used to the terms of endearment which he favored.
“I wanted to lend you a hand,” you said.
He appreciated the sentiment. But he found it difficult to imagine you crouching in the dirt like he had been. 
“There is no need, my dear, I am almost finished.”
Your mouth set in a stubborn line. “Then I will help with the last of it.”
The firmness in your voice made his heart flutter. He enjoyed all the work you put into getting to know him better. And he made sure to return it tenfold.
“Very well, my love. Let me just put this little rascal back inside.”
As he came outside once again, he found you crouched over the rosebush he had been working on, your long sleeves almost trailing in the dirt.
That will not do.
Jing Yuan pulled out the long ribbon holding his hair as he moved closer. Crouching behind you, he deftly wound it first underneath one sleeve, across your back, then underneath the other sleeve, tying it at your shoulder. His actions left your arms bare, sleeves far out of harm’s way. 
You shivered in the cold air, goosebumps forming on your newly exposed skin. 
Jing Yuan rubbed your arms, trying to get some warmth into your body. “You are still free to go inside.”
You huffed. “I will not.”
He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple.
Handing you the pruning shears, he showed you where to prune, guiding your hands. The two of you chatted idly about the roses for a while, when he expected them to bloom and what colors he had planted. Then the topic moved to the future as a whole.
“Tell me, my love,” Jing Yuan said, wrapping his arms around you, “I know you have only been with me for a few short months, but how do you like it so far?” 
You leaned back against him, nestling further into his embrace.
“I enjoy it so very much. I appreciate the freedom I have, compared to the inner court. And…” You turned enough to meet his gaze, raising a hand to caress his cheek. “I have grown quite fond of the master of this house.”
He felt a smile tugging at his lips. “Oh? Do I need to be jealous of this man?”
“Perhaps,” you said, a smile lingering on your own mouth. “He has been very kind to me.”
“I suppose I shall have to be even kinder, then,” he said, before leaning in to press a kiss to your lips.
Maybe there really was something to the saying of ‘a cat well cared for may bring luck to its owner.’ Jing Yuan was certainly feeling very fortunate at that moment.
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Thank you so much for reading! Likes, comments, and reblogs are always greatly appreciated! If you like, you can check out my other works here. Love, Birin 💖
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brokenpieces-72 · 2 days
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Painting Faces
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Graves has no choice but to be present on the day Makarov addresses the force, but he keeps to himself while blending in. Makarov doesn’t bother himself with Graves expecting him to stay in line. At least at first.
Then he notices your empty desk. Graves had cleared it of your personal affects, including photos and personal documents.
“We’re missing an officer?” He wonders aloud while Graves files through some reports.
“Officers Graves, you’re missing a partner?” He asks.
“I am perfectly happy being single.” He replies with a good hearted smirk. “The desk is open, we had an officer resign.”
“I see. Very well.” Makarov walks away before Graves can try to make another smart comment. Graves sits up straighter in his chair though.
“That… that is impressive.” Gaz comments as he enters the warehouse seeing the mural you were working on for Los Vaqueros. You look down at him from where you were perched on a railing of a sort of cat walk.
“Thought a cowboy motif would be fitting. Alejandro told me there were good men and women who died here during a raid. Wanted to honour them.” You exclaim. You roll your shoulders and arms hearing a few cracks. By now your bruises were yellow, nearly healed. Your pants are covered in paint, and you old hoodie was warm enough to keep your from freezing in the dropping temperatures. That and Gaz’s very kind delivery of tea. He climbs up to you on the cat walk, and hands you the thermos. Just holding it warms your fingers in your fingerless gloves. He leans against the railing with you admiring your work.
“Figured a mural was the least I owed them. Can’t imagine Soap and Alejandro don’t have some tension going on.” You say, gingerly sipping your tea. Yep you still burned your tongue.
“Speaking of them… Alejandro and Rudolfo have been recovering from a failed raid.” Gaz says. So it begins.
“Makarov.” You say. Gaz nods, shoving a hand in his pocket sipping his own drink. Things were going to be flipped on their head and spun like a top. It would take some time getting used to. Thankfully the 141 was making the transition for you as easy as possible. The nights your father spent with them you were always a part of the conversation. One night there was a promise made to help take care of you if your father couldn’t.
“Ran into Alex at the shop, apparently he found a smaller piece of yours, with I think he said a pillow fight.” Gaz mentions trying to change the subject. You smirked at that knowing the piece he meant. You side eye Gaz who returns it, and you toast your cups. You take a sip and think for a moment.
“Has Soap said anything?” You ask Kyle. The two of you hadn’t really talked since the night you needed safety. Even then it had been brief and awkward.
“It’s how he is.” Gaz says. He’s taken notice of how you two have interacted and Soap talking about you less than he had. “It’s not that he hates you, I think he needs to talk to you. Simple as that.”
“So this is where you’ve been.” A voice came from below and behind them. They both turn to see a face they weren’t expecting.
“Rudolfo. Come on up mate.” Gaz says, offering the bruised man, a hand up. Rudolfo eases himself up through the railings and looks up at your work in progress. He gives a friendly smirk.
“Alejandro will like this for sure.” He says.
“Least I could do after everything. How is he?” You ask, looking up at Rudolfo.
“Nothing can kill Alejandro, except Alejandro.” Rudolfo says. “Unfortunately, nothing can get him to rest either. He’s worried about more drug shipments getting past us when we can be stopping them and destroying them.”
“Sounds like Alejandro.” Gaz says taking another sip of his drink. You stare at your work while taking a sip and think for a bit. The three of you all stand there in silence for a bit. You keep asking yourself, how would dad do it? He could break cases open, getting gangsters like Soap and Gaz to bring the hammers he needed for it. Now Makarov was in the picture too. Which meant needing to hide the hammers right after and hope he would bring glue to repair it.
“Could tell him.” You suggest looking at Gaz. It takes him a minute to realize who you’re referring to. Graves was an insider now. Graves also had to be removed from the case after Makarov returned. Gaz considers it and Rudolfo listens. They were informed about Graves and his involvement as well. It was risky, but if you couldn’t be your father, maybe Graves could step up in a way.
Kyle looks at Rudy. “You know when the next shipments are coming in?”
“We have guesses. So far they’ve been using fishing boats, so they don’t have to claim cargo.”
“They’d need a warrant to start searching.” Kyle adds.
“What if they got one?” You ask. “I mean… who’s to say it’s only one fishing company.”
“We don’t hit innocent.” Kyle points out. “But…you may be on to something.”
“If proof of illegal activity was brought forward to the company itself, investigations would have to start. If Graves is at the forefront…” Rudolfo trailed off.
“Where do we start?” You ask, trying to keep the smug look off your face. You may get to see them in full action.
“We first get Alejandro’s permission. Then we get more information from Laswell. After that we prep for the raid.” Kyle explains.
“I can arrange that. Will have to bring him to see this.” Rudolfo says, gesturing to the mural.
“Wait until it’s done.” You say smiling. “Thinking of adding something a little extra.”
You head back with Gaz to the hideout. He’s teasing you for all the paint you got on yourself.
“At least it’s not on the scarf.” You say stepping inside.
“At least it’s not still wet, you’d have to take your clothes off outside so you don’t track paint.” Kyle teases as you take off your boots. You notice Soap leaning on the fire escape outside. Kyle just gives you a nudge and no words. You take your boots off and carry them to the back door leading out to Soap. You put them back on to join him.
“May I join you?” You ask. He looks back and nods. You step outside and sits on the steps, rubbing yours hands together, trying to warm them.
It’s silent between you two again. There’s just the faint sound of wind and the usual traffic down below.
“Saw Rudolfo today.” You say, squirming on the step.
“How is he?” He asks looking over to you.
“He’s doing better. Still a little rough. Alejandro is getting restless about the shipments though.”
“You don need to worry bout that.” Soap says, facing back to the streets.
“I am worried about it, because it’s what I should be worried about.” You say.
“You don. You’re not a cop anymore.” Soap exclaims. It doesn’t sting as much as it once had.
“…cop or not this is my home now.”
“You have a hom-“ Soap starts but you interrupt him.
“No I don’t. This is my home now.” You say looking up, with him looking at you now. “This city is my home. It was my dad’s home too. If the cops aren’t gonna fight for it, then who else will? I’m not sitting on my ass waiting for an opportunity anymore. You gave me one, I’m not letting it go again.”
Soap looks at you for a while. “What opportunity?”
“When you let me tag on your turf.” You say.
Soap thinks for a minute, and then scoffs. “Stubborn as your old man.” He says.
“Nothing like my old man.” You respond.
“Not at all.” Soap says sarcastically. You smile.
“I really am sorry for lying. Throughout that whole time I was debating whether to even report anything or tell you what I was doing.” You say, rubbing your neck.
“Why didn ya?” He asks, turning and leaning back against the railing. You shrug.
“Felt more at home here.” You admit
“At home? What home?” He asks.
“With you and everyone you introduced me too. Barely known Ghost that long and I feel safer around him than by myself.” You say. Soap smirks at that. Safer around Ghost of all people? That’s a new one.
“I knew you might’ve been a cop. Just hoped ya weren’t.” Soap admits. “Let’s get inside. Gonna snow soon I bet.”
You both go back inside, feeling more relaxed around each other than before. Price steps in the front door just as you two step in from the back. He’d been popping in and out the past week or so never staying for long. This time he was grumbling something.
“Ye aight Price?” Johnny asks.
“My own deliveries are backed up for the bar.” He exclaims. “Graves came by as well to tell me, in person.”
You wonder if Graves did it to maintain cover or to ask Price how you were. You don’t voice it.
“Nikolai can handle it but it’s clear they’re trying to make money difficult. Farah came by, saying a few real estate companies were scoping her neighbourhood. A couple kids threw water balloons at them.”
“I like those kids.” You comment, imagining soaked suits and irritated scowls.
“Alex is on damage control there.” Price says, finally setting his jacket aside. He stepped into the kitchen, stretching and taking a beer from the fridge while you and Johnny join him. You sit up on the bar stool again.
“Makarov is stretching out. He wants more than just us, he wants everyone.” Price states. Johnny leans against the counter arms crossed, Kyle joining at the bar.
“Why now?” Johnny asks. “Could’ve struck b’fore.”
The question is weighty and is left in the air for some time. If your dad was keeping Makarov under control why did he leave?
“Because of me?” You suggest. Johnny, Kyle and Price both look at you. They consider it, but there’s not much to support your answer. “Maybe… he can manipulate the police easier because Graves knows me, and wants me safe. If Graves acts out, Makarov can put me in the crossfire but now I’m not so he thinks it’s easier for him to fuck with the system…maybe?” You try to reason.
“Not entirely out of question.” Kyle mutters.
“Something to consider.” Price says. “We can’t just go at it expecting to find something we don’t know is even there. For now we support where we’re needed, and test waters. Makarov having the police on his side is a problem, but the question is how hard he uses them.”
“Speaking of, we got a tip from Rudolfo. Alejandro may want our help on a drug raid.” Kyle adds. “We need to figure out where the shipments are coming from though. Maybe try to convince Graves to get a warrant.”
Both Johnny and Price went quiet at the mention of Graves again.
“I hate to play devil’s advocate and I know you don’t like it, but Phil is the only one we have directly on the force. We can lead him to where the problems are and book it when he gets close.” You say.
“They’re not wrong.” Kyle agrees.
“Something we will consider.” Price offers. “Right now, we need to focus on finding the exact shipments, and then deciding what to do. It’s Alejandro’s operation, we go through him first.”
Ghost came in and everyone turned to look at him. In his arms is a bundled up hoodie while he shivers in a long sleeved shirt on. You get up quickly, hurrying to take the bundle from him. By now you’d seen Simon with enough animals to know he puts great value in them. Sometimes over himself, hence the hoodie not on his back.
When you take the hoodie you bite your tongue trying not to awe at the tiny, furry, adorable, cute, wittle bundles of claws and teeth in your arms. You stare at them and look up with your eyes at Simon, who is brushing the remains of snow off himself.
“Take em to your room, get a blanket.” He orders. No one else matters but these kittens, which you take to your bedroom without a word.
While you are getting a blanket and a small shoe box for them to stay in, Ghost gets a different hoodie to help him warm up. The mangy black cat, hops on to his shoulder while everyone else just watches.
“Congratulations?” Johnny asks Simon as you come back into the kitchen.
“Keep them from their shitty father.” Simon grumbles. As he leans against the counter the cat hops off his shoulder and on to the counter. “It’ll give the kid something to do when we’re out.”
“I thought I was coming with you guys.” You pipe up.
“We will think about it.” Price says, sounding a bit like a dad.
“I’m not a child.” You grumble.
“If you do come on the raid it won’t be like arresting someone, it’s shoot to kill and keep your eyes open the whole time. No one is walking with side arms, they have uzis and AKs. Some fire wild too.” Kyle reminds you.
“I’ve done a raid before.” You try convincing them.
“You’re stayin.” Johnny says with finality. It’s not out of anger or irritation. It’s meant as words of warning, that this was bigger than what you’d encountered and he didn’t want you in the line of fire. Literally. You drop your head with some swallowed disappointment. You want to help. But you don’t want them worrying about you.
“One condition?” You ask. Johnny shifts his posture to listen.
“Okay two conditions… first one is all four of you have to come back after that raid regardless of what happens, preferably with Alejandro and Rudolfo too.” You stare each one down. Not very intimidating but they’re lenient.
“What’s the second condition?” Ghost asks, their silence an agreement to your first condition. You look directly at Simon.
“I get to name at least one of them.”
Alex steps into his small home, hanging his keys on the hook. As he shuts the door, the kitchen light turns on down the hallway. Very carefully, Alex turns the lock on his door, pulling out his side arm. He stalks toward the kitchen until he hears a familiar voice.
“I needed bandages…”
Alex sighs and holsters his gun before going to a hall closet and getting a small first aid kit.
“If it’s worse than I think, I’ll drag you to hospital.” Alex warns and enters the kitchen, seeing Farah with a few scratches. She’d come to him with worse. Her clothes are still damp too. Alex has to hold a laugh picturing Farah throwing a water balloon at a bunch of realtors.
“You want anything to drink?” He offers setting the kit down. “Was gonna make myself some food and then sleep. Now I have company.”
Farah opens the kit and gets the cotton and alcohol.
“Happy to provide.” Farah says as she starts cleaning. Alex starts making a sandwich for Farah as well. Farah was a good person, defending her home and neighbourhood. Alex was still on the force but with the new chief commissioner he was tempted to resign. Take some security job to pay off bills. Graves had been asking him to stay on though. With the sketchy land deals going on by Milena Romanova, he wasn’t leaving anytime soon.
Alex sets a plate down in front of Farah and he sits by with a plate of his own.
“You didn’t have t-“
“I wanted to, now eat.” He says pushing the kit aside. Alex and Farah had an odd relationship. Farah would often drop in like this. Alex had made it a habit to do the same on her every so often.
“I need a favour.” Farah admits after a couple bites.
“Only one?” Alex teases. “Go on.”
“There’s an artist I want to hire.” Farah explains. Alex looks at Farah.
“Need a loan?” He asks.
“No. I need you to look the other way. A small peaceful protest to get the realtors to leave us alone.” Farah explains.
“You have an artist in mind?” Alex asks. Farah gives him a smile that gets covered by an another bite of sandwich.
“This is really good.” Farah says through a mouthful.
“Thanks.” Alex says chuckling.
Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @smitten-haematite-quartz
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rayplacement · 1 day
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Rayman / Fakeman selective rp. est 2024, April 27th.
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This blog is a selective literate, semi-literate rp blog of the character Rayman from the Netflix series Captain Laserhawk: A Blood Dragon Remix. I will be leaning on CLH Rayman (real version) for some of my take on Fake’s personality and will also heavily lean on HC based interpretations of my own until we see more of him in a hopeful season 2.
I will be writing literate or semi-literate when interacting, but I prefer literate. You can interact however you like to, but just know I will reply in some length and all I ask is please give me something to work with. (If you do " unserious " roleplays, go for it. I can work with that too.)
Bio, portrayal, connections, etc. under cut.
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐢𝐨
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Being let go from his job after an incident, Rayman was left feeling hurt and betrayed. He knew deep down in his own mind that they wouldn't...no, COULDN'T continue the Rayman Show and news without his likeliness. I mean, how could they? He was the host, the face, the main man of the broadcast which was shown throughout all of EDEN. The main show was named after him after all. Unfortunately, upon viewing the channel to see how they could have continued without him; there it was. A fully cloned lookalike of himself was seen talking directly towards the crowd from the screen of his TV.
Rayman, nicknamed Fakeman, Rayplacement, and sometimes FakeRay by the fan base, is Rayman's cloned counterpart who was evidently made to replace the actual Rayman. He is shown to be acting like the former; and shown as happy-go-lucky, sassy, and civic.
𝐇𝐂𝐬 & 𝐇𝐂 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐬
Rayman is more snarky, classy, flirtatious, and more dramatic than the previous Rayman.
Despite having a friendly face and friendly demeanor, he is shown to be more short tempered when not being broadcasted live. This Rayman also adores attention and having eyes on him. He practically lives off it.
When talking to someone, he often looks ahead of him and speaks out loud as if he has a crowd cheering him on from being used to the routine.
He tends to bow often and even clap after something good happens or something pleases him.
𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬
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When interacting, feel free to choose a starting connection from below. Keep in mind this is OPTIONAL. It just helps me understand if you want him to act a certain way towards your character first.
𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐒 -
You are a fan of " Rayman." He sees you pop up at times, giving you autographs when asked and gives you one sided yet friendly gestures. He isn't your friend of course, just fulfilling a simple cater to a fan.
𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 -
He confides in you. He will tell you how his day of work was without sprinkling non hardships. He finds you entertaining and good to be around.
𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 -
What started off as a simple friendship now is closer. He confides in you and tells you many things. He trusts you and you trust him. He tells you about how his days are or really anything without sprinkling in sugar.
𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒 -
Fake will poke fun of, make snarky remarks, and get all hot headed when he is around you. What a brat. He cannot stand the utter thought of being with someone like you for more than five seconds.
𝐍𝐄𝐔𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐋 -
He sees you at diners, clubs, and sometimes at the corner of a shop. He occasionally gives you a smile and sometimes even a wave. You two sometimes talk to one another when you so happen to run into each other. However despite this, nothing special comes to fruition. But that can change.
𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 ~
What a strange feeling. You two have been together for awhile and somehow you're here. He calls you by nicknames such as darling, my beloved, and dearest. He can be a bit of a jerk and perhaps once will put you on display for all to see, but at the end of the day he means well enough. You are his prize possession. Please note that he is bisexual. I am fine with shipping BUT they have to have known each other for awhiiile and should not be forced upon.
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Feel free to send in your muses with writing in my inbox for a response or dm me for interactions. I don't mind short responses too! (Just keep in mind again; I like to be a bit lengthy sometimes as I like to write the characters emotions, actions, etc) I will work with anything :) This blog is also cross over friendly so I don't mind other characters interacting, I highly encourage it to be frank. I also do not mind others portraying the same character. I do NOT DO MAINS. I interact freely 💜.
Sorry for the long pinned post, I think I had to get some info out, especially the character.
Penned by - your mom.
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Clh / Rayman rp wakey wakey wakey wakey are you awake now?
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armoredisopod · 1 day
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Arknights CN 5th Anniversary/New Main Story PVs
youtube
youtube
youtube
New Operators
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PhonoR-0, 1* Ritualist Supporter
Anger turns words into fire.
Fang the Fire-Sharpened, 5* Charger Vanguard
Commanding a Squad? Don't worry, i'm familiar with it.
Logos, 6* Core Caster
The souls have left, but our souls still need rest.
If the deceased needs guidance on their way to the other side, i am willing to be the Sarkaz ferryman.....
Wiš'adel, 6* Limited Flinger Sniper
Remember, Doctor, It's "Wiš'adel"
No longer a dead man's codename, this is my name.
Civilight Eterna, 6* Welfare Bard Supporter
Time will heal all wounds, love will heal the scars.
Amiya, Incantation Medic Class Change
Hatred is spreading. I will try to put it out, no matter... how many times it takes.
Operator Outfits Update
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Total of 9 new outfits, 4 new additions for the Bloodline of Combat brand, 2 new additions for the Iteration Provident brand and 3 new additions for the Ambience Synesthesia brand
Bloodline of Combat
Three Hundred Meters Underground - Savage (Login Event)
Blade-Cleaved Tides - Thorns
Under the Flaming Dome - Ines (21 OP)
Young Branch - Muelsyse (24 OP)
The blades are vibrating, the water is humming.
Now, i understand their emotions even better than before...
Iteration Provident
Nocturne of Elysia - Blue Poison
Red Countess - Skadi the Corrupting Heart (24 OP)
The scarlet velvet of life cushions this diamond of death.
Ambience Synesthesia
Carriage of the Winds of Time - Ho'olheyak
Rhythmic Blocks - Swire the Elegant Wit
Never-Melting Ice - SilverAsh (21 OP)
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Announced outfit reruns
Series IV Bloodline of Combat outfits (Skadi the Corrupting Heart, Gnosis, Aurora)
Bloodline of Combat outfits of Kal'tsit, Specter the Unchained and Ebenholz
Epoque outfits of Rosmontis and Nearl the Radiant Knight
~120 other outfits as part of the 5th anniversary celebration edition of Rhodes Fashion Review
Operator Modules Update
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Wiš'adel, Logos and Fang the Fire-Sharpened being part of branches with modules immediately get their modules
BOM-X module base effect adds another shockwave to Wiš'adel's attacks
CCR-∆ module base effect makes Logos' attacks additionally deal 8% of his ATK as Necrosis damage
CHG-X module base effect makes Fang the Fire-Sharpened generate 2 DP per enemy defeated and refunds her full DP cost when retreated
Lord Guard branch gets 2 module types
LOR-X given to SilverAsh, Thorns, Qiubai, Lappland, Ayerscarpe and Frostleaf
LOR-Y given to Лeto, Arene and Luo Xiaohei
Events and Stories
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Ep14: Absolved Will Be The Seekers
During the anniversary event period, Ep14 will be immediately accessible immediately after beating Ep1 and there will be an event shop
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Operator Archives Update for Greythroat, Siege, Shining, Ascalon and Aroma
Misc Stuff
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New QoL changes; failing Challenge Modes will only deduct 1 sanity instead of half the sanity cost, players can put signatures in their profile cards and the friends list limit is increased to 100
Blemishine, Aosta, Bubble and PhonoR-0 added to recruitment
The potential tokens in the red voucher shop will be changed, Royal Guard and Specialist tokens will be available
Players who don't have Scene and Siege's [Legacy] outfit can get them in the Ep14 event shop
Amiya's [Newsgirl] outfit will be available in the certs shop to players who don't have it
Livestream Stuff
Showcased Wiš'adel, a 6* Flinger Sniper that can apply heavy pressure in a wide area and just straight up dealing with high DEF enemies because sure why not at this point
First talent makes her attacks attach an Afterimage to enemies, when this Afterimage is hit with a shockwave from her attacks it has a chance to explode and Physical damage to nearby enemies and Stun them for a few seconds
Second talent allows her to summon a Spirit Shadow within attack range upon deployment, if she has her summon in a nearby tile she gains Camouflage, her summon attacks enemies in her range inflicting a brief Slow and Afterimage, her summon can be attacked by ranged enemies
Skill 1 is a power strike skill that makes her next attack inflict more shockwaves and Stuns the targets for a few seconds, additionally it increases the splash range and shockwave damage multiplier
Skill 2 reduces her attack interval, increases her ATK and lets her attack multiple enemies at once, it also has an Overload mode where her attacks turn into a rapid barrage that hits random enemies and has a damage multiplier, this skill can be manually deactivated
Skill 3 immediately summons 2 more Shadow Spirits (up to 3 can exist at a time, will remain when skill ends), increases her ATK, greatly lengthens her attack interval, massively increases her attack's splash range, increases the Afterimage proc chance to 100% and gives her attack a damage multiplier, this is an ammo skill and can be manually deactivated
Showcased Logos, a 6* Core Caster with a very interesting and versatile kit
First talent makes his attacks have a chance to bounce and target another enemy + apply a brief slow
Second talent makes his attacks reduce the target's RES and increase the Arts damage they take for a few seconds
Skill 1 is an infinite duration skill that expands his range and increases his ATK, enemies that enter his range with HP lower than a certain % of his ATK will immediately be defeated, then deal Arts damage equal to the amount of HP the defeated enemy had to a random nearby enemy
Skill 2 increases his RES and changes his attack to a channeling type attack, the attack increases in power and gradually reduces the target's movement speed the longer it's channeled (up to a limit), if the attack is interrupted or the target is defeated Logos will lock-on to a new target and have the attack's power reset
Skill 3 expands his range, increases his ATK and lets him attack multiple targets at once, enemy projectiles caught within his attack range will have massively reduced flight speed and will be removed if they are still in his range when his skill ends
Showcased Civilight Eterna, a 6* Bard Supporter
First talent is the 3 "Fine Dust" that revolves around her, when one collides with an ally it increases the healing that ally receives from her trait effect and disappears, disappeared "Fine Dust" will respawn after a few seconds
Second talent makes all allies take less damage from Sarkaz enemies when she is deployed
Skill 1 is an infinite duration skill that increases her trait healing effect and reduces "Fine Dust" respawn time
Skill 2 increases the maximum of "Fine Dust" that can appear, immediately spawns more of them, increases their rotation radius, and changes the "Fine Dust" to hit enemies, dealing True damage and inflicting Bind for a few seconds, allies within range gain an ATK Inspire buff
Skill 3 expands her range, increases her trait healing effect and makes it so the "Fine Dust" no longer disappears, allies within her range gain a Max HP Inspire buff and will have their HP periodically redistributed/equalized
Showcased Amiya's Incantation Medic form
Her talent increases the Max HP of all allies when she's deployed and heals all allies by a % of their Max HP when her skill is active
Skill 1 increases her ASPD and her attacks heals all allies in a Bard range around her by a % of her ATK
Skill 2 immediately deals damage to all enemies in range + reducing their ASPD and movement speed for a few seconds and she gets +ATK for every enemy hit by this (up to a limit), for the rest of the skill duration she deals True damage and attacks two targets at once but this skill can only be used once per battle
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Showcased the new main story episode mechanic, originium storms that deals damage to allies and enemies and significantly reduces ally SP recovery, the storm can grow in size by absorbing originium scattered on the field, there are also beacons that can be shifted by operators and will attract the storm towards it
All operators will have special anniversary voicelines that will play during May 1st to May 3rd
Hypergryph promises they will no longer use non-token potential increasing items for future welfare operators (like they did with Vigil and Lessing)
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Starting from Wiš'adel's banner, all limited banners will guarantee the featured limited operator at 300 pulls (does not reset your odds), additionally W has her spark cost reduced to 200 and other limited operators will have their spark cost reduced in the future
Arknights anime season 3 - Rise From Ember confirmed
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Rhodes Island Icebreaker Games, limited time event with live co-op gamemodes, rewards include a new profile card theme and a new outfit for THRM-EX
Both players need to coordinate on which operators they bring since they can't double up on the same op, each player can bring up to 10 operators
The battle can go on 2x speed if both players agree to it, the battle can also be paused
Players can also send each other Deployment Points
Both players play on the same map and have objectives to clear, in the livestream the objectives that were shown were survive for a set amount of time and protect some ursus civilians
There is also a Football co-op gamemode where both players have to fight against the CPU
Operator attacks can move the ball; attack power, attack trajectory and shifting ability affects how and where the ball is moved
Operators can attack and knock down the enemy team
Having operators successfully intercept the ball allows the players to place the ball where they want on their side of the field
Each round is randomized, there are breakable barricades that block some (or all) tiles in front of the goal and there can be stage hazards on the field, the one showcased in the livestream had the Magnificence waregeist enemy periodically apply Camouflage to the enemy team and the ball
Teaser for an Aegir event with Ulpianus
Revealed a Sanrio collab, said it won't have any collab operators but will have collab skins, special icon and merch
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Revealed IS5 set in Kazdel
The main system for IS5 is "Thoughts", players can use these to gain buffs but the more of one type is used there is a chance to get debuffs as you progress
Thoughts can be combined and analyzed to gain Collectibles/HP shield/Hope/etc
In IS5 players can sell Collectibles and Thoughts in Cannot's shop
Thoughts can be used to upgrade and alter nodes
IS5 debuffs last for a certain amount of moves
IS5 QoL changes; E2 Class squads will have all ops of those classes at E2 on the starting pick, Elite recruitment vouchers will give guaranteed E2, Recruiting 4* operators no longer cost Hope and 5* operators have their recruit cost decreased, squads also get upgraded as you climb in difficulty, they also plan to improve the King series Collectibles
There is a special enemy that can capture your last deployed operator upon defeat, the captured operator cannot be deployed for the rest of the battle but will be promoted to E2 afterwards
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Revealed Dunmeshi collab, with Senshi as a collab unit
Arknights 2024 Commemorative Animation PV ft. Mili
Arknights PV 4 ft. Starset
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non-fantasy · 12 hours
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!!!!! tell me!!
OKAY SO
i couldn't sleep until 1:30 am for unimportant reasons but . at 1:30 am, i was suddenly haunted by a question, right. there are these events in tokimeki memorial girls side 3 and 4 called ADV events, where you get to see a short story from the point of view of one of the main love interests. but like. why the hell was it called adv. is it an acronym for something? what does it mean
so at 1:30 in the morning, i went to look up what tokimeki memorial girls side adv means
i do not receive an answer from search engines
instead, somehow, google heard me ask "tokimeki memorial girls side adv meaning" and gave me THIS.
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it's insane, right. it's really insane. this is a 27 page essay claiming that tokimeki memorial girls side (2002), beloved romance simulator, is responsible for teaching girls to view themselves in terms of real-life stats, that rejection from anime guys will give gamers self-esteem issues, and how to view yourself through the male gaze to win love.
i look at this 27 page paper and pass out for the next 5 hours, because it is 1:30 am.
BUT. when i wake up. i am READING. i liveblogged it all to my friend in discord dms (HI @nenestansunsthings) and here are. some INCREDIBLE highlights
"the game teaches you that men expect women to change their clothes from time to time"
the author has cited japanese 123 website, livejournal, and tumblr
"japanese players are more receptive to the series' lessons on femininity than overseas players because of the constant affirmations of the japanese cultural setting" the daily affirmations of being in japan
"players are encouraged to save before making choices and reload if they do not satisfy the object of their affections, teaching women to discard their desires and preferences to please men" HAVE YOU NOT PLAYED A VIDEO GAME BEFORE?!
the author can't make up their mind over whether the game has 7 or 9 love interests
they are basing their analysis on the first game specifically but they bring up the second and third game if it supports their point. but information from the second and third games is ignored if it undermines their point
example 1: they complain about rivals mode portraying women as jealous and willing to throw away their friendships for the sake of a man's love, ignoring that game 2 allows you to calmly talk things out with your friend and game 3 entirely does away with girls being rivals entirely, the game 3 girls are always on your side 100%
example 2: they bring up tumblr posts of fans talking about how they'd date the girls to point out how heteronormative the games are. they are talking about the first game. the tumblr posts are talking about a girl from the third game
weird racism
"this game MAY cause players to develop self-worth issues" "this game MIGHT cause players to see themselves in real-life stats" THESE WORDS ARE DOING A LOT OF HEAVY LIFTING.....
the author is WRONG???? ABOUT THE GAME MECHANICS????
they claim that a guy rejected their invitation for a date because they weren't smart enough but once they were smart enough they launched themselves into a monologue about how this is PROBABLY a guy wanting a girl who is smart enough not to embarrass him but not smart enough to surpass him
THAT'S NOT HOW IT WORKS. IT'S RNG. THERE'S NO MINIMUM STAT REQUIREMENT TO ASK SOMEONE OUT HE JUST FLIPPED A COIN AND SAID NO
out of the four love interests they mention by name in this, THREE OF THEM HAVE THEIR NAME SPELLED WRONG
look at this fucking bibliography
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they have cited, in order.
a shitpost
someone's entire blog
and all of tumblr's search results for tokimeki memorial girls side 3.
which is not even the game they're talking about.
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sugurizz · 6 months
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𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐬, 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐬, 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐬 ✧ Feat. JJK MEN
𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ── Jjk Men in their -real- Daddy era. (Am I secretly having a baby fever LMAOO)
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 ── fluffy stuff, pure wholesomeness and affectionate dads.
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𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢
It's safe to say that sometimes you're raising two babies - only one of them is a big buff pouty one.
Daddy Toji sneaks to the kitchen in the middle of the night, leaving you both sleeping in your shared bedroom and then slowly closes the door. He promised himself he'd only take one *unnoticeable* spoon of your newborn's baby formula but ends up stuffing his face with the forbidden powder in the heat of the moment. He tries his best to hide his tracks by shoving the tin somewhere far in the cupboard.
He *oddly* always makes sure to be the one preparing his baby's bottle the next day - 'Oh darling, don'tcha move a muscle...I'll be right back with our baby's breakfast!'
You smile and raise a brow, already suspecting something. Daddy Toji is not much of a morning person. much less when it comes to baby chores...
𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮
Gojo is always there whenever you change your baby's diaper. He keeps laughing and giggling like a 6 year old, curiously learning from his baby momma how to take care of his little child. His sky blue eyes are staring at your skilled hands, handling your precious little one with infinte care. He keeps smiling in awe, chuckling every time your baby farts and making the funniest faces just to make them giggle.
He takes a million pictures of his baby every day; we're talking his whole camera roll is just his baby's face, cutesy hands, tiny feet, smiling, eating, sleeping on daddy's chest, drooling on his shoulder...the list never ends.
His baby looks so smol when he holds it in his huge hands. He has to bend all the way down just so he could pick them up cause obviously my dude is the tallest man ever.
𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢
He'd take full care of your newborn just to see you rest and relax. He told you to teach him everything he needs to know so that he'd be perfectly fit for his new -and best ever- occupation; your baby father. He's got however only one pet peeve; getting his little one to burp after feeding them.
The reason? He was doing it once, holding the baby while gently patting its back...until he suddenly felt a warm liquid slithering down his shirt - the expensive one you dearly gifted him on your wedding anniversary- and to his surprise it was none other than his little one's vomit dripping down his shoulder...
Now he makes sure you hold a napkin behind him whenever he does it.
𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐆𝐞𝐭𝐨
He's by far the chillest Daddy EVER. Carries his little one whenever he goes. Gets super jealous when your baby starts calling for you, or wants you to hold them instead of him. He's determined to make them say 'daddy' first, but deep down knows it'd melt his heart when he sees the little version of him utter mommy's name for the first time.
Staying awake at night putting his baby to sleep just so you can get your full nightly rest is something he'd never miss out on. He hates seeing you tired or sleepy and puts both of your needs before anything else.
Daddy Geto is always calm and smiley, no matter how much mess his baby makes or how long it'd take for him to clean it up - sometimes makes you seriously wonder how he manages to be so damn chill all the time.
𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐒𝐮𝐤𝐮𝐧𝐚
For a husband twice your size with four arms and eyes he sure should take most care of your little offspring - He does tbf - His baby is always laying somewhere on his body or at least near him; sleeping against his chest, nibbling on his thumb, drooling on the side of his shoulder or sitting on his huge lap.
He's got a 6th sense whenever it comes to his baby being hungry, thirsty, sleepy or needing anything at all. Instantly knows the reason why his little one is crying and most of the time is very quick to make them happy again.
Absolutely hates poopie smell and calls them a brat whenever he senses their diaper getting heavier. 'Aggh you little runt!' You can't help laughing at him getting overwhelmed with such a tiny thing and start teasing him over it.
𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐘𝐮𝐮𝐭𝐚
There's nothing that Yuuta loves more than children. He has always wanted to have kids and couldn't wait to create his very first and own one with you. He's in LOVE with seeing you taking care of them; almost admiring every move and every word you say. He smiles like an idiot whenever he sees you holding your baby, breastfeeding them, playing with them or even laying next to them.
His favorite game is to hide somewhere in the house and let his little one look for him. He does it so suddenly and quickly, leaving them puzzled with big round eyes - comes out of his hideaway when they start sobbing and laughs at their little red nose and pouty cheeks.
'Aww why is my little cupcake cryiiing?...Daddy's right here!'
13K notes · View notes
sutorus · 7 months
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THE GRUDGE PROFESSOR!GETO for KINKTOBER 2023!
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DESCRIPTION: everybody loves professor geto, and judging by the thousands of viewers you get on every live, a lot of people love you, too. but you and professor geto hate each other. you’ve had enough of his humiliation rituals, and decide to do something about it.
PAIRING: mean professor!geto x student!reader
WC: 5.3k i am an unstoppable beast
WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. fem reader, afab reader, teacher/student dynamic! adult age gap! (reader is in college, unspecified age), sw/camgirl!reader (don’t like don’t read! no shaming 😤), strong language, dirty talk, pet names (sweetheart, baby, angel, darling), reader calling geto "sir", unprotected relations, creampie, afab reader and terms
A/N: this switches between povs a lot so i hope that’s okay or at least readable lol! also i set out to write him so much meaner but he’s just kind of a simp... enjoy?
reblogs are very much appreciated i'll uwu for u :pleading eyes emoji:
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it is said that those who cannot do, teach. 
geto suguru could have done many things. he had the brains, the muscles, the features, the traits. the ambition to succeed in any field he desired. satoru says in a world ruled by the strong there is no place for humility. 
but humility is not why suguru became a teacher. neither is ineptitude. no, he’d become a teacher because it was the right thing to do. 
to use his gifts to help shape new generations, help unlock potentials long dorment and buried deep under years of a lackluster schooling system. geto suguru prided himself, above all, in being a righteous man. 
but japan’s most upstanding citizen for 28 years in a row held a shameful secret. a secret in the shape of you. 
he saw the darkest sides of himself on your face (eyebrows scrunched, eyes shut tightly, jaw slack as you—), your voice (higher in pitch with desperate moans that sound almost scared on the brink of your—), your body (taut and plump in all the right places, glistening with sweat, bouncing up and down on a—). 
when you walked into his classroom that fateful day, the world tilted on its axis. his first thought was, fuck, then, it can’t be, then, most embarrassing of all, i’ll finally find out what she smells like. 
(he did, when you went up to his desk to hand over your test. a whiff of vanilla, argon oil shampoo. too sweet, too youthful. and he’d watched you leave, tennis skirt flowing like a water lily, dick already chubby in his pants.)
it was slowly starting to consume him.
the first time you spoke in class, he knew he hadn’t been mistaken. it was really you. the cute, slutty girl he’d been milking his cock to for the better part of a year. 
god, when you finally said his name. you would never in your wildest dreams think that he’d been imagining those words coming out of your mouth, of him coming out of your mouth, dripping out of you, all over you—
he was losing it. this was not like him. this was never supposed to happen, and he has to put an end to it. 
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everybody knew of geto suguru, the prodigy professor. already getting a phd despite not even being 30, handling the administrative slack for the department while managing office hours every day of the week, promoting student events, helping organize spirit weeks and charity drives. 
everything he did, he did for others. those not as capable as him — which was most people. in other words, it was really, really hard to hate him. 
but you damn well managed to. 
and to think you were excited to take his class. everybody told you to run, not walk, to sign up for his twentieth-century Japanese philosophy chair. 
“oh, professor geto is just the best,” they’d said. “he makes it sound so interesting and engaging, he gives the most life changing assignments, he really cares about us.”
bullshit. 
the first time you stepped into that classroom, suspiciously full for a philosophy class, you felt a shift in the air almost immediately. 
and sure enough, professor geto suguru was eyeing you down like he’d just seen a ghost. it made you self conscious, like he’d taken one look at you and decided right then and there you were too dumb for the class. 
it made your blood boil. sure, you stood out a little bit from the actual philosophy majors, but that doesn’t mean he gets to judge you. he literally doesn’t know you!
but fine, first impressions are tricky like that. for all you knew, you could’ve been misjudging him right there. 
however, with each passing day, you grew more and more assured in your suspicions.
you knew the man had it out for you, always calling on you to answer when he knew you weren’t paying attention, never grading your papers above a B even though you did everything right, somehow managing to fucking avoid you during his excessive office hours. 
his looks were almost the most infuriating part of it.
his beautiful face constantly set in that nonchalant look, his big veiny hands always gesticulating, his huge fucking arms straining the fabric of those dress shirts, his ear gauges and man bun contrasting the prim and proper image the rest of him conveyed. 
under different circumstances, he’d make your mouth water. under different circumstances, you’d imagine him going down on you all night long, singing praise about how good you taste and how tight you are. 
but in this timeline, you absolutely loathed him. and he loathed you too. why? you didn’t know. 
but you knew for a fact that it was personal. 
“i don’t care,” megumi said around a mouthful of meatball, cutting your monologue short. “i’m not doing it.”
you sigh, melting into your chair. “megumi. please. i am literally begging you, i just need some hard evidence so i can go report his ass.”
he eyes you curiously. “report him for what?”
“i don’t know. bullying? sexism? whatever the hell his problem is,” you pick at your food, huffing in annoyance. 
“you’re overthinking it,” megumi replies, dismissively. 
“okay, how about this,” you lean forward, putting an elbow on the table. “if you write the assignment for me, i’ll get your dog that expensive halloween costume you’ve been wanting.”
megumi lifts an eyebrow. 
“you need to get one for each,” he says simply. 
you grin. “deal.”
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suguru really does give it his all to make your life with him a living hell. pulls out all the stops, years of friendship with gojo satoru paying off as he comes up with ploy after ploy to get you to drop his class. 
it feels bad, being mean to you. but for the hidden, twisted parts of him, it feels delicious. 
watching you huff and puff, all hot and bothered when he corrects your answers on the spot. watching you nibble on your pen at the increasingly difficult exams he hands out. letting himself wonder if you missed a stream this week because you were too busy cramming for a make up test. 
he knows he’s pushing you to your limit, and even if there’s some sort of sick satisfaction in seeing you so agitated at his hands when it’s usually the other way around, he doesn’t enjoy upsetting you. 
the problem is, suguru knows it’s either he gets his shit together or he continues tormenting you, and, well. 
the spirit is willing but the flesh is so, so weak. 
he knows it’s getting worse, too, because he’s not infatuated by you only when you’re undressing on his screen, or all dolled up in class. 
when you tie your hair up in a ponytail, when you suck on a hangnail, when you lick your thumb to erase a smudge on your paper… all of it drives him wild. 
he can’t teach with a permanent half chub anymore. this has to end, one way or another. 
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you sit down in front of your computer, adjusting the camera before turning it on. soon, viewers start trickling in, little dings notifying you of their messages. 
you smile, waving at the screen. 
“hi everyone! i know i’m a little bit late today, i hope you can forgive me…” your eyes scan the chat, giggling at the compliments. “‘you look tired, sad face’, ah. i’m sorry. i guess i’ve been a little stressed lately.”
your robe falls over your shoulder as you readjust your position. a few donations come in, accompanied by supportive messages.
“you guys are so nice. it’s not a big deal, it’s just this dude giving me a hard time at college.” 
you absentmindedly trace your collarbones, reading what your viewers are saying. 
“you’ll kill him for me? that’s so sweet,” you joke. “nah, it’s not a student. it’s a professor. exactly, ynlover444, a grown ass man picking on me!”
you sigh deeply, allowing your body to finally unwind and relax on your chair. you prop a knee up against the armrest, giving your viewers a little peek in between your legs. you’re wearing one of your favorite sets, trying to get in the mood after the week you’ve had. 
“ugh, sometimes i wish i could just…” you suck in a breath, clenching your hand into a fist before releasing it. “sit on his face and get him to shut up, you know?”
you laugh at the countless me firsts that flood the chat, bringing a finger to your lip. 
“anyway! enough about that horrible man,” you reach beside you to grab a box your viewers know all too well by now. “let’s get to the fun stuff, shall we?”
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as always, satoru is no help. 
“why don’t you just fuck her?” he asks, eyebrows arching above his sunglasses. “ya gotta just fuck her.”
suguru clears his throat before taking a drag of his cigarette. “i’m not fucking a student.”
satoru shrugs. “everybody does it. besides, you basically already do.” 
suguru wonders, not for the first time, why he ever told his friend about his situation. about your streams, that he’d stumbled upon randomly and innocently and had gotten instantly hooked, about you barging into his classroom like an angel at hell’s gates, about you you you you, everything about you. 
“that won’t fix anything.”
satoru clicks his tongue, swirling his soda inside the can.
“poor, naive suguru. did you not just tell me about what she said on her stream?" and yes, regrettably, suguru had told him. "it’ll fix everything.”
suguru doesn’t even let himself consider it, except he does.
at this point it’s no secret that he’s thought about being inside you, but now that you’re here it’s just too real and too risky and completely fucking wrong. 
it goes against the entire life he’s built for himself. 
he’s lost. he wants you so fucking bad, wants you close, wants you so far away, wants to ravage you and never have to see you again. 
it’s fight or flight. if he got you alone, it could go either way, he realizes that. 
suguru wonders what part of him will win by the end of all of this. 
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your heels clack on the linoleum floor of the hallway as you approach professor geto’s classroom, megumi’s graded paper clutched tightly against your chest. 
the thing about megumi is that he's a star student. he’s never gotten anything below an A on any of his essays, makes the dean’s list every year, tutors his seniors. so the big, bright B- on the page tells you everything you need to know. 
damn right it’s personal. 
you don’t even bother knocking, slamming the door open while still trying to contain your indignation. 
geto is sitting at his desk, piles of papers sprawled on top. he has his white dress shirt rolled up to his elbows and a surprised look on his face that would be cute if you didn’t want to slap it right off. 
he says your last name like he’d been expecting you all his life.
“to what do i owe the pleasure?”
your jaw clenches as you take a few loud steps towards him. you slam megumi’s paper down on his desk, leaning over. 
“professor geto, i demand an explanation. a real one, this time.”
the man takes a deep breath, lips twisting disapprovingly. he smoothes the paper over.
“as i already explained in my notes right here, the structure is fine, but i couldn’t help but miss a more in-depth analysis of the four nodal concerns of philosophy that we talked about in class, such as—“
“no,” you interrupt. “just no. you know you’re bullshitting me and i’m sick of it. this paper deserved an A!”
“miss—“
“what’s your problem with me?” you spit out. your eyes finally meet and there’s nothing in geto’s that could answer your question. your chest is heaving, lips wobbling and hands shaking, trying to contain your anger. 
geto clears his throat, visibly uncomfortable. “like i said, your paper could’ve used a bit more—“
“no it fucking couldn’t have, because it’s not my fucking paper, it’s fushiguro’s fucking paper and the only reason you gave it a B is because i was the one who handed it in!”
he sits up, straightening his posture.
geto sounds austere when he asks, “do you realize how much trouble this could be for both of you if i reported it?”
you can’t believe this man. he’s been picking on you the entire semester and when you finally confront him about it this is what he chooses to focus on. 
“are you fucking kidding me?” that earns you a stern look from him, eyebrow raising taller than that fucking high horse he sits on. “professor geto. what did i ever do to you?”
there must be something earnest in your voice because geto sighs, getting up from his chair. 
he walks until he’s standing in front of you, leaning against his desk and crossing his feet. 
“do i bother you?” is all he says. it surprises you. 
you jut your chin out. “as a matter of fact, you do.”
the man hums. 
“i bet that’s really difficult for you,” he speaks like he’s sympathetic, like he understands. he sounds almost sheepish when he says, “i bet sometimes you wish i would just shut up.”
you blink rapidly. “no, it’s not like that. it might shock you but i genuinely do enjoy your class, it’s just that—“
“or maybe you wish you could shut me up,” he continues, ignoring you. “maybe going as far as to say that you could… sit on my face to get me to shut up.” 
your mouth goes dry.
before your brain can fully process the shift in the atmosphere or the fact that your professor is maybe possibly hitting on you, you realize where those words are coming from. 
it’s what you said. about him. on stream. right before fucking yourself on your hot pink dildo. 
you can’t speak, can barely even look in his general direction. 
you had really thought things couldn’t get any worse. had barged into his office with nothing to lose, almost hoping he would cordially invite you to remove yourself from his class permanently. 
but now? now you have no idea what’s going to happen to you. 
“i…” you start, the words dying in your throat. geto chuckles, crossing his fat fucking muscly arms across his chest. 
he says your name, low and syrupy. “is it true? you’d like to?”
you can feel your face flush hot in embarrassment, and you shift your weight from one foot to the other, wishing desperately that you’d never walked into his classroom. 
you have half the mind to apologize to him, right now.
“it’s just a figure of speech,” you try. geto clicks his tongue. 
“what a shame.”
your wide eyes shoot up and meet his. “w-what?”
he smiles sweetly. 
“it’s a peace offering. you can take it, or we can forget you ever said anything,” and isn’t he just so slimey, actually, when he’s the one who brought it up. he had said it, and now… 
now you can finally allow yourself to look at him.
those delicious, broad shoulders, the ever-present bored look, the stubborn fringe that falls out of his bun. 
you could so easily forget what you came here for. 
“so, like, a truce?” you ask, taking a daring step forward. geto nods, uncrossing his arms. “and you stop treating me like i’m fucking dumb?”
he tilts his head. “i think you’re a very smart young lady. determined. entrepreneurial…”
“geto—“
“professor geto,” he corrects you, hands reaching out to graze your hips. “you’re intelligent. i just like to push my students.”
you both know that’s a lie, but it’s okay, because now you know exactly why you got under his skin and it makes your own burn. 
you run a hand down the line of buttons on the front of his shirt, looking up at him through your eyelashes. 
“then… push me, professor.”
it’s so incredibly lame, the porn line you hit him with, but to your surprise it works, a low groan rumbling deep in geto’s chest. 
he swiftly closes the distance between the two of you, grabbing both sides of your face and crashing your lips together. 
it’s ravenous, the way geto dips his tongue inside when you gasp in surprise. you moan against his mouth, slipping a leg in between his two. 
he’s half hard already when he rubs up against your thigh. 
geto picks you up with ease and sets you down on his desk, and it’s so fucking cliché, the papers crinkling under your weight, the pens clattering to the floor. but it turns you on beyond belief. 
you share a few open mouthed kisses, an exchange of tongue and moans and hot breaths between your lips. 
if you were honest with yourself, you'd admit that you've fantasized about it before. a silly idea, at first, something you'd just blurted out mid-stream.
but that little seed had been planted, and when you got yourself off that night, you might've imagined for a moment that it was your mean professor's cock squeezed tight inside you, making you come undone.
geto slips his hands under your skirt, grabbing your ass and pulling you closer to him. you line up your crotch with his, moving your hips in tight little circles that make the both of you groan. 
his fingers are tugging your underwear down, down, the soft patch sticking to your gooey cunt. he lets the soaked fabric dangle from your ankle, grazing the back of his knuckles on your core. 
“mmm, fuck,” geto breaks the kiss, swallowing. his pretty lips are flushed and shiny, parted around his panted breaths. “you always get this wet or am i special?”
he’s smirking, the bastard, leaning back in to kiss your neck.
god, you smell so good, like lotion and perfume and sunshine and sin. 
“shouldn’t you know?” you sneak your fingers up into his bun, pushing your chest against him. he works his lips expertly on your skin, using just the right amount of teeth, of pressure.
geto hums against your neck, kissing a line up to your jaw. he snakes a hand under your skirt, thumb pressing down hard to rub on your clit, two fingers slipping inside. 
you immediately clench, a soft, drawn out mewl leaving your lips. 
the slide of his fingers against your walls send a chill down your spine, filling you up so perfectly. you feel the thin skin at your opening stretch around him, burning at the friction as his fingers plunge in and out of you. 
“god, look at that,” he rests his forehead on your shoulder and pulls the hem of your skirt up. “do you hear that, baby? so fucking wet for me.”
you whine, hands cupping his jaw so you can kiss him again. 
“please…” you mumble against his lips. “more…”
you wonder how much of what you can say he's heard before, which exact words have left your lips and sent him over the edge. it makes you self conscious, oddly, like he can see right through you.
not-so-kindly ignoring your request, geto removes his fingers, bringing them up to his mouth.
you watch as his eyelids flutter in pleasure, a hum rumbling low in his throat. 
he looks so good like this, just edible.
you pull him in for a kiss before he can, relishing in the surprised little noise he lets out. your knees are wobbling, feet dangling from your seat as you taste yourself on his tongue. 
he swallows your moan hungrily, forearms trembling with the need to hold back.
geto knows this is wrong, so wrong on so many levels, puts both your positions in jeopardy, it makes him feel perverted and primal and so fucking alive. 
he’s been watching you fuck yourself on those silly toys for god knows how long now, knows every spot that makes your hips buck, knows exactly how to make you cream like a debased slut around a cock. 
it should feel unfair, how easy it’s going to be for him to make you cum, only if it weren’t for the fact that your mere presence is enough to get him hard as fucking diamonds. 
“tastes good, huh?” he whispers, thumb caressing your chin. you nod, smiling devilishly. 
“tastes better on your tongue, prof.” 
geto groans low like a starved animal, holding your throat in his hand with a loose grip. he’s overwhelmed, that much shows, not knowing what to do with you or where to start. but there’s one thing he’s sure of. 
he presses one last kiss to your spit-slick lips before dropping to his knees. 
you can hardly believe it. sulky, big bad bully professor geto suguru on his knees for you. you prop a foot up on his desk, your sole skidding on a piece of paper. 
“scoot closer, please,” he asks, cordial even like this. you bring your ass to the edge of the desk, your dripping pussy hovering over his face. 
he looks so good under you, hair already disheveled, a delicious tent in his tailored pants. 
you tuck the hem of your skirt into the waistline so you can watch as he sucks your clit into his mouth, moaning like he’s fucking relieved. 
you throw your head back, fingers buried in his silky hair as geto’s fingers find their way back inside. 
he fucks them in and out of you lazily, pushing out strings of slick. geto slurps it all up, spreading your wetness all over your clit and sucking it back in his mouth. 
god, his cock is straining in his pants but he doesn’t dare touch it, can’t until he’s inside you. you taste like fucking heaven, like all his fantasies, like he always knew you would. 
you’re whining softly, bucking your hips into his face almost shyly, as to disrupt his pace.
you sound so much better in person, although he can’t wait to have you moaning into his ear without needing the headphones. 
“god, this perfect pussy,” geto mumbles into you, his breathing labored. he runs a thumb all over your cunt, gliding it over your soaked lips. “been dreaming about it for so long.”
“yeah?” you ask. “tell me. tell me how you stroke your cock to me every night.”
and every night might be overselling it. geto is a busy man. 
but your words do make him realize that no girl he’s had since he found your stream has satisfied him quite like you do. your flirty smile, your moans, the way they sometimes turn into uncontained giggles as you stuff your pretty cunt with a dildo. 
so he tells you, blush spreading across his cheeks. 
“fuck, i do,” he tongues your clit, tracing lazy circles. “i do. just look what you do to me.“
and there it is, that cheeky, slutty giggle, directed at something he said this time. 
he takes his fingers out, spreading your opening with both thumbs as he licks you all over. 
geto gulps, tongue dipping inside of you, sucking your clit into his mouth, sliding down to your entrance, every clench of your pussy pushing out more and more slick for him. no one's ever eaten you out as thoroughly as this.
“oh, fuck, sir,” it slips out casually, the way it would were you talking to any other professor. but given the circumstances, you revel in the deep moan geto buries into your cunt. 
you trap your lips between your teeth to keep anything else from tumbling out, but it’s useless.
“please, sir, i’m so close—so close just keep doing that, yeah just like that—“
“fuck,” he mumbles, pulling away to suck in a desperate breath. then, “fuck,” sultrier, right into your core. 
you grind against his face, finding purchase in his hair as a final few flicks of his tongue push you right into the crest of a mind-numbing orgasm.
it’s so good, so much better than when you're alone. the friction so perfect, his long, thick fingers plugging you up last minute to viciously fuck into you. 
“god…,” you breathe out, legs trembling as he runs his hands up your thighs. 
his chin is glistening, bubbles of spit and cum gathering in the corner of his mouth. he looks so good like this, like he was meant to please you and nothing else. 
geto feels like a fucking teenager, so goddamn close to busting in his pants at the sight of you. his dick hurts, balls tight and the head throbbing where it’s tucked into his underwear. 
“please, sweetheart,” he can’t hold himself back any longer, slick fingers already undoing his belt. 
you get to work on his zipper, pulling his pants down along with his underwear and damn. 
you figured he was big. he was a tall man, broad shoulders, shoes the size of a yacht, and the bulge in his trousers was a pretty good indication. but it couldn’t have prepared you for the sheer size of him. 
longer than it is thick, cleanly shaven, pretty veins and ridges and standing angry red in attention. god, you want it inside you. 
he notices you looking. 
“do you need more prep? i can—“
“no, fuck no, suguru, need it inside me now,” you wrap a hand around him and he hisses, caging you in with his arms on the desk. 
he huffs out a laugh, blowing the fringe framing his face. “what happened to sir?”
you kiss down his jaw, squeezing right below his tip. 
“sorry, sir,” you say against his ear. “are you going to punish me for my slip up?”
geto groans, pulling on your hair hard and making you face him. 
“take your shirt off for me,” he instructs, and you obey, maneuvering around his tight grip on the back of your head. 
his spirit is so unbreakable.
here you are, teasing him, coaxing him to rough you up, push you around, relieve both your frustrations properly once and for all, but he’s just so… adoring, and hungry, and just so irrevocably into you, and you find out that’s so much better. 
geto relents his hold on you to unclasp your bra, cupping your breasts and sucking a nipple into his mouth. you whine, caressing his hair. 
“so fucking perfect,” he massages your tits, looking mesmerized. 
“yeah? they haven’t gotten old to you yet?”
he laughs, so cute, and you can barely remember that just hours ago you hated the sight of him. you stroke his cock up and down, squeezing harder at the tip trying to milk all that delicious pre he’s been wasting on the inside of his boxers. 
“no, f-fuck—never gonna get old,” he pushes your boobs against each other, imagining his cock sliding in between them, his balls nestled underneath, his load blown all over your pretty face—
fuck, he’s gonna cum if he keeps going like this. 
he rips your hand away from him, ignoring your knowing smirk and pushing his tongue into your mouth. 
“i’m gonna fuck you now, okay, sweetheart?” you moan, nodding, shimmying your hips so he can have the perfect angle. 
a big hand clasps your thigh to wrap your leg around his hips as his tip pokes around your entrance.
you’re whining in anticipation, clenching around nothing, nails clawing his clothed back. 
when he slips in, it feels like coming home. you’re like warm honey around him, cunt pushing him out but clinging to him at the same time, with every stroke. it’s fucking maddening. 
“ahh, g-god, sir, ‘s too big—“ you swallow around the lump in your throat, feeling the tip of his cock in your guts. 
he’s huffing, concentrated, bullying his cock into you inch by inch with shallow thrusts until he finally bottoms out. 
“fuuuuck, angel,” he grips your waist with both hands, like he could just fuck you up and down his length if he wanted to. “took me so well, look at that.”
you do, dropping your heavy head to look at where you’re connected. you clench around him and he whines, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in. 
the metal legs of the desk skid on the floor, papers and pens raining down to the floor as geto starts roughly plunging in and out of you. 
you let out little ah, ah, ahs in time with his strokes, the ache deep in your stomach finally starting to fade. 
“f-fuck, you’re gonna—topple us over, suguru, go easy—“
“can’t,” he chokes out, wheezing as he pushes his cock in as far as it can go. 
he gives shallow little thrusts, his length straining the fine skin at your entrance so good, hitting a spot inside you over and over that makes your head spin. 
your fingers twist into the back of his shirt, pulling him in to whine right into his ear.
he’s so big, stretching you out so thin that you feel every ridge and vein, can feel both your heartbeats inside your cunt. 
“ohhhhh fuck, fuck sir, please please touch me—“
he grabs your ass before you can even finish your sentence and presses you flush against his hips. 
geto’s tip is kissing your cervix now, his balls sticky and creamy against your ass, your clit grinding against his pubic bone as his thrusts violently shake the both of you. 
“fuck, wanna do it so fucking loud but i can’t, we can’t, what if someone walks in—“
you moan wantonly at his words, expecting to be chided, but geto seems to love it despite his worries because his cock kicks deliciously inside of you.
“look how loud you’re being, listen to yourself,” he grunts out, the belt pooled around his feet clanging with every stroke, the absolutely lewd squelches from your pussy resonating in the entire classroom. 
you two sound so good together, better than you’ve ever had, better than he could’ve ever imagined. 
“so loud, so wet on this cock,” he spits out, sweaty strands of hair sticking to his forehead. “do those toys make you feel this good? this full? answer me.” 
“hahh, n-no, no one but you,” you can’t think straight, head thrown back in pleasure and eyes squeezed shut. “only you, sir.”
geto whines like he’s aching, pounding into you mercilessly and making a mess under the two of you. 
“fuck yeah, that’s right. i’m making you feel good, baby?”
“mm-hm,” you mumble, tongue lolling out. geto's going so hard now, has you pressed up so tight against him, body caging you in, fucking every breath and thought right out of you. “close.”
“yeah?” he speeds up his effort slightly, and you’re sure he’s going to have desk-edge shaped bruises on his thighs tomorrow. “gonna cum on my cock? cream all over me?”
you let out a long, drawn out whine, tits bouncing up and down with the force of geto’s thrusts. 
“let me see your face when you cum, darling,” he cups the back of your neck, breathing hard through his nose. “keep your eyes on me. that’s right, sweetie, so good, you’re doing so good.”
you preen at the praise, feeling suddenly self conscious with the man's laser focus attention on you. 
you coo out little noises, growing in desperation, holding onto his biceps for dear life as his hips piston in and out of you. 
your pull him into you closer and rub your clit against him, grinding helplessly as your orgasm creeps closer and closer. 
the moment you open your eyes and meet his hungry ones, you’re cumming. your walls spasm around him, making the glide of his dick impossibly wetter with your release. 
geto chokes on a sound, his cock hostage of your pussy’s vice-like grip as your greedy cunt milks him for all he's got. 
“f-fuck, baby, look so pretty when you cum, always look so fucking sexy so fucking perfect that you’re gonna make me bust, i’m gonna cum for you god gonna cum inside, gonna blow my load all deep inside this pussy—“ 
it’s the most desperate he’s ever sounded, speaking through clenched teeth and a soaked mouth. you moan in return, letting him use you. 
he slams his forehead down your shoulder when he thrusts once, twice, three times and cums, his balls drawing up so tight that it hurts. he fucks it into you with shallow thrusts, panting, almost wheezing in pleasure. 
it feels like it lasts forever, his orgasm. like all of the blood in his body goes straight to his balls to push out the thickest, most satisfying nut of his life into the prettiest girl he's ever seen.
you feel it fill you up so good, hear it, too, squelching and sticking to both of you. 
geto’s body slumps against yours and you stay like that for a while, catching your breaths. there’s cum sliding out of you, down his balls, onto some poor student’s essay you have your ass on top of. 
when he pulls out of you, he takes a beat to watch it spill out of you some more, his face and chest red, his smile groggy. 
“god, this,” geto has to fight the urge to say thank you for letting him fuck your brains out. he swallows. 
“yeah,” you blink away the haze, feeling sore and fucked out. “this.”
“…is probably going to happen again, right?”
he knows it shouldn’t. he knows it will.
maybe both parts of geto can learn to coexist.  
you grin, touching the tip of your tongue to his lips. 
“well, i still haven’t made good on that promise of sitting on your face, have i?” 
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the next morning, in class, the students erupt in happiness at the news that professor geto had an accident that ended up ruining most of last week’s graded papers he had in his possession. 
so he decided to give everyone an A for their troubles. 
and finally, finally, there was peace in the world.
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10K notes · View notes
etfrin · 5 months
Text
⤷❝Jealous, jealous girl | Coriolanus Snow❞ˎˊ-
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⇢☾Warning: NSFW | Snow is his own warning, toxic relationship, jealousy, possessiveness, fucked up thoughts, toxic! jealous! possessive reader, bondage (eyes and hands), dom sub undertones, face riding, cunnilingus, thigh riding, riding, pinv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), mentions of killing | lmk if I forgot anything!
⇢☾Pairing: young! president Snow x fem! reader
⇢☾Summary: being jelly leads to sexy times!
⇢☾A/N: hope y'all enjoy this!
previous installments of AM au: the study, mine to love, the quiet gift
< masterlist > < bc: @cafekitsune > < tag list >
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He didn't take account of your possessiveness when he decided to charm some of the elitists of the Capitol. It was his duty to keep them under his pocket whether it be with empty smiles or deadly threats. Though the latter might have been easier with how you were glaring at everyone who made a passing or suggestive comment towards Coriolanus.
Even with his arm around your waist, you pressed against him wasn't enough to satiate you. His presence wasn't enough to calm you down, not when you wanted to burn down everyone in the gala who looked at Snow with lustful eyes. He was taken. He was your husband. Yours.
Coryo didn't realize what was wrong, surely it was obvious that you were in a bad mood but that was no way to behave. He had to talk with his pet.
And he was planning on that when he entered the room, to see you on the phone, a call that you immediately cut and look at him with a smile that cut through his bones because he knew it was fake. It was a smile he had to wear a thousand times and now you were looking at him the same way.
“What was that call?” He asked roughly, his eyebrows furrowing, his fingers twitching, his mind already thinking of locking you up and wondering if you had found a lover. He- he-
“It was just-” You tilt your head, your mind already figuring out his thoughts, your first instinct was to lie. However, you knew better than that.
“I want to fuck someone over,” you said instead, blunt and straight to the point without any riddles so that your husband doesn't overthink it. He.. he felt himself calm down a bit. “Who?” He asked his mind at ease. Has someone hurt you? Insulted you? It was rare for you to take such actions, especially when Coriolanus made sure no one could mistreat you.
You bite your lower lip, wondering if you should lie. Snow hadn't seen your ugly side as much as you have seen him. But… perhaps it's about time he should and you were angry. At him and everyone who dared their lustful eyes and filthy hands on your man (You wanted to claw their eyes out, you wanted to cut their hand off for such a sin). Corio called you his dove, his pet, his property. But he seems to forget that he is also yours, your husband, your lover, your man. It was time to remind him of that.
You walked towards him until he backed up to the door, it was a position that you both knew except he was the one pinned for a change. “A bitch,” you ended up saying, your fingertips grazing his sharp jawline. His eyes widened, a familiar heaviness to his breathing and his pupils began to dilate. “Which bitch?” He said, turning his face away to focus and not kiss your pretty lips. “The one who couldn't take her hands off what's mine,” you whispered, your hands on his customized suit, pushing the fabric away from his shoulder and letting it fall. Then your fingers were busy twisting the buttons so you could see this man's golden skin, but the action was stopped when Corio softly asked, “Yours?”
Even if his tone was soft, you knew better than to believe it. Coriolanus Snow belonging to someone? He couldn't think of a worse joke, that just made you even more frustrated, so frustrated that you don't bother unbuttoning his buttons. You begin to rip them one by one. Coryo allows you to act in this manner, knowing that you need to deal with this in your own way.
“I am not yours,” he said, “I don't belong to you.” You wanted to slap the man. You never had a greater urge too before. You clenched your jaw, “You are.” Your hand goes to the pendant you always wore after your first anniversary. A necklace with his initials.
“It’s a two-way street, Coriolanus Snow. You're my husband, my man, and my lover. I am yours as much as you are mine,” your fingers grip the chain, “Or I can tear this from my neck and walk away.” Coryo was going to punish you for those words, there was no doubt about it. His eyes, those blue ocean eyes had anger in them now. How dare you threaten, Snow?
You waited for an answer, both of your chests heaving with passion waiting to explode. “Threaten to leave again, I'll break those legs of yours and chain you to the bed.” Your breath hitches from his words, the truth ringing in his voice. This insane man… you had no words to say so you didn't. You pressed him to the door, your lips clashing with his. For the first time, you didn't give in to the fight for dominance. Both of your teeth clashing, the tongues fighting in war and neither side winning but becoming a greater mess.
“You're a coward, Coryo,” you whispered as you were pushed back to the bed, neither of you giving up the fight to control the kiss. You refused to be underneath him for him tonight. Coriolanus Snow owned you and you wanted the taste of owning him. You manage to straddle him, saliva covering both of your chins from the messy kiss neither refusing to break.
“You- how dare you let her touch you like this,” you whispered, a hint of insecurity creeping into your sound. “They can look at you all they want, envy all they want but touch is reserved for me only. For me, Coryo. Next time it's brought to my attention that you let yourself be groped like that whether it be for your interests or Panem. Rest assured they won't be seeing the sun again and every inch of your skin that was touched…” You couldn't complete the threat, not when his eyes widened. Coriolanus felt like he was looking in a mirror.
“Don’t look at me like that,” you hissed, “There is a reason why we work out, sweetheart. It's not because of whatever formulas you have in your mind to control me, to have me. It's because I am just as insane as you, if not more but I have an infinite amount of control over myself.”
He was thinking, thinking of what you didn't know. You didn't want to know what epiphany had crushed the man from your honest words filled with ugly deep jealousy. You didn't want to let yourself wonder either if he would have preferred someone sane, someone less jealous and possessive. Someone opposite of him in every regard.
But Snow leans forward to kiss you. It's… delicate the kiss. A brush of his soft lips against yours, a grin blessing his face. “What?” You whispered, hesitantly. “You’re perfect,” he said, and those words did things to you, nearly enough to melt away your anger. Nearly.
“And your perfection is aggravating,” you said, with each word a kiss was pressed to his lips. “I love you,” you whispered, a wet kiss pressed to his jaw that went down the path of his neck to his pulse. Your hands shamelessly undress him. “But you truly vex me, Coryo.” you let out as you bite the spot of his pulse, sucking his life from his skin, formatting a bruise, marking him as yours.
“Calm down,” he grunts as he also undresses you, his touch on your heated skin damning you to hell. “I am here, pet.” Finally, both of you were unrestricted by clothes, lips clashing with each other as the hands roamed the body in a hurry. Neither of you was going to disappear, but the desperation as if one of you would slip away like sand clawed at both of your minds.
You didn't reply to his reassurance, you pushed him till his back was pinned on the mattress and he let you. For once you were in control and you had no idea what to do with it. You bite your lip, pondering what should be the next course. You wanted to ride him, you wanted to kiss him. You wanted him to regret it. But most importantly you wanted him to realize he is addicted to you too, as you are with him.
So you pulled back, ignoring the flash of confusion on his face, and went to the closet to pick out two ties. One red, another black, both gifts from you. Coryo raised his eyebrows but indulged you without saying a word, knowing that he would get you back for it. You let him sit up, as you tied his hands together behind his back and then tied the blindfold around his eyes.
“Let me play with you today, Coryo,” you said, “It will be fun.” Coryo replied with a warning, “Do not cross the line.”
You were never an obedient pet. You placed your cunt on his thigh, your folds soaking with arousal, your walls needing his cock but you ignored the want as you began to grind yourself slowly against the tense muscles of his leg. “Coriolanus Snow, the perfect man, the perfect student, the perfect president. Tell me Coryo, would you consider yourself a perfect husband?” “Sweetheart,” he warns you, not ready to hear whatever criticism you want to spew. He could never be a perfect man, perfect in the sense of good and bad. He couldn't but that doesn't mean he has to face it.
“I think you are,” you whispered to his ear, causing him to relax visibly, it was rather pathetic how quickly your admission of yours made his cock fucking hard, harder than before. Your pussy continues to grind against his thigh, your hips rolling at a relaxed pace as you coat his skin in your juices. “You’re perfect in every sense of the word,” you praised him, your lips set on creating multiple shades of mark on his shoulder and collarbone.
He didn't need your words, he didn't know your praises yet a groan escaped his lips. His breath is heavier than before as your grinding gets faster. “Let me see you,” he whispered, and you wanted to deny him. You did but you knew he wanted to know if you were lying, manipulating him in any manner and you weren't cruel enough to play that game with him. You took off the blindfold from his eyes and the vulnerability that showed in his blue eyes made you so wet, your pussy clenching around nothing and he could feel the spasm on his thigh.
His eyes search yours for a hint of a lie, he doesn't find any. Both of your lips met for a kiss, knocking us breathless as you wrapped your arms around his neck and began to roll your hips faster on his thigh, getting close to a high. Meanwhile, his cock was leaking onto his abs, thick goops of pre-cum that you swipe on your fingertips and lick as you don't give any attention to his length. A sound you couldn't classify leaves Coriolanus's lips as he watches you taste himself.
It felt perfect, you teasing him like this. You are in control, despite Coriolanus' not-so-subtle attempts to get rid of the knot that tied his hands together. ‘I am in control, love,’ you wanted to say but you bite your tongue instead and sucked on the sweet spot of his jaw. “Wanna sit on your face,” you whispered to him.
“Fuck, fuck, dove” he cursed before he nods. You maneuver him into the position, your cunt mere inches from his greedy mouth that had already started teasing your folds with kitten licks that you mewling with need. “Coryo,” you whispered, pleading to be completely honest as you lowered yourself down onto his face. His tied arms above his head, your fingers laced with his (the safe word being three squeezes if you end up suffocating him). Your pussy finally reached its destination, finding his lips and his tongue. The slaughter of your sanity had begun.
He was so messy with this, it surprised your soul. His licks weren't long and calculated per usual but short, teasing like that had you bucking your hips onto his face. You try to be careful, you swear you do but all was lost in your hazy pleasure. You moan his name, again and again, and Coriolanus gets high off it. The power you hand him without realizing, the control you give him of your pleasure.
“Coryo!” you cry out, your movements getting fervent. You were close to snapping from riding his thigh, from the high and adrenaline of the situation. It wasn't hard to shatter, your cunt gushing out juices as your walls began to spasm. The orgasm turns your bones into jelly but you have work to do. You have shattered but you yet hadn't broken Snow.
Coryo hums against your folds, licking all the juices up, nipping and kissing your clit with such attention, it sends shivers down your spine. You pulled yourself off of his face, and your pussy begins to ache again because of how debauched he looks. His mouth gasping, his face shining with your arousal all over his chin, beads of your juices dripping down his skin. You closed your eyes, getting your senses back to you.
You let out a shaky breath yourself and you bring him back to a sitting position, one of your hands on his nape and another finding his cock. He lets out a groan of relief and pleasure as you squeeze his girth with your fist. You stroke his cock several times and coat his length with his pre-cum. “Gonna ride you, baby,” you whispered to him, your lips meeting his, and you moaned into his mouth as you tasted yourself.
You placed yourself on his lap, one of your hands going to his tied wrists, playing with the knots unaware that a lot of it has come loose. You don't even realize it as you were too busy sinking on his cock, your other hand in his hair, gripping the blonde curls rather roughly.
Coryo leans forward, pushing his face between your breasts, his tongue licking stripes of your salty skin and his teeth digging into the sides of your supple flesh making you let out a sharp moan. Your hold on his hair gets tighter, as you adjust to his twitching length inside of your sensitive walls. His lips catch the pendant, the only thing you are still wearing. You look down to watch him suck the ‘S’ in his mouth and you whimper from the sight, your pussy clenching around his cock.
By now your fiddling with his tied wrists had completely untied the knots, something you didn't realize as you became drunk on him. You place your head on his shoulder as you begin to roll your hips. Snow lets you control the pace, not letting you know he is free of his bounds. He takes and takes whatever you give him even as his balls tighten with the urge to come. He bites his lower lip to stave off the urge. Second by second, minute by minute passes as your bodies get hotter and hotter, waiting to burn the brightest.
“Coryo,” you begin to whisper, “You're mine, right?” This time the insecurity in your voice was clear, something that would make you cringe later. This time Coriolanus takes control.
His hands find themselves kneading the flesh of your hips, stopping you from fucking yourself on his cock. You freeze in surprise, your eyes widening. “It’s our wedding ring I wear every day. If that doesn't hold any value to you. Don't you dare ask me that question again?”
“Now fucking cum on my cock, pet,” he said, his eyes turning into snake-like slits, “Don't think I'll forget of your behavior tonight, baby.” You swallow nervously, but Coryo says he is yours, not in those exact words but it was Coryo, he was never known for straight words anyway.
You begin to ride him again, picking up pace as you keep slamming down on his cock, his cockhead kissing your cervix from this position. Your hands go to his shoulder to use as leverage as you continue to fuck yourself on him. “My love,” you moan as you felt yourself getting close over the edge, from how his dick was throbbing inside your cunt, you could tell he was close too. He wedges a hand between the both of your connecting bodies and his fingers find your puffy oversensitive clit and he begins to play with the bud making you cry out.
“That's it, dove,” he whispered, smirking, “Cum on my cock, you're the only one in this entire universe with that privilege.” You whimper, feeling your pussy spasm on his cock repeatedly as all the tension leaves your body. He shallowly thrusts into you, fucking you through your orgasm.
You turn into jelly on his lap, your cunt twitching occasionally from oversensitivity. He turns you over so you are laid down on the bed, and he hooks up your legs on his shoulders.
He leans down, his hand gripping your jaw as his lips brush against yours and he says, “Time for your punishment, doll. You had your chance to indulge, my pet. It's my turn now.”
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Current tag list: @stelleduarte @nowitsmissing @lifeonawhim @le-lena @dollfacedalls @motley-baby @champomiel @slytherinholland @randomstuff2040 @justacaliforniandreamer @emmalinemalfoy @hyuk4s @theamuz @watercolorskyy @littlebiwitchsworld @eir964 @skywalker1dream @darkangelkathiecookiesmith @ben-has-arrived
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tender-rosiey · 5 months
Note
hiii 😭 I REALLY LOVE UR GOJO X YN SO MUCHHH 😔😔 I was also wondering like maybe what if y/n has a wound, like any where 🥲 it could be either on her back, arms, legs but she doesn't wanna tell gojo abt it and she hides it, then he will find out about it either she winces when gojo hugs her, starts wearing long sleeved clothes or her shirt lifts up while sleeping 🤧 TYSMM❤❤
strain — gojo satoru x f!reader
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a/n: I am honored that you like my works, love! hope you enjoy this as well 🫶💕🫶 also happy birthday to the man, the myth, the legend: gojo satoru!! (it’s still his birthday in my country so hush I am not late)
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you are more than a capable sorcerer. in fact, you are one of the strongest in the field.
however, like anyone else, there are some moments where things get a little out of hand, and you come back bearing a rather long slash on your left arm.
but since it’s pretty late, you decided you will bother shoko about it in the morning. that is how you’re finally in your home, with satoru nowhere to be found.
you frown lightly at the fact that he is still out there fighting curses, but a part of you feels relieved that you don’t have to explain your situation right now.
the night should pass by smoothly, and you will go to shoko tomorrow: a fool-proof plan!
so you do what you can to sanitize the wound, and cover it until you can get it treated properly. you also take the chance to indulge in your favorite snack as a good job treat.
after finishing your food and tidying up for the day, you’re finally in bed, all-cozied up and avoiding anything touching your wound as much as possible.
a deep breathe in, a deep breathe out, and you slowly drift to sleep.
not much time passes before satoru’s familiar footsteps echo throughout the house.
your husband has an abundance of energy.
but it seemed like today’s missions have drained him a bit more than normal, so he skips eating anything and heads straight to your shared bedroom.
his heart softens, and his muscles relax upon the sight of you tucked in bed. he walks to press a small kiss on your forehead, quickly changing into his pajamas and settling right by your side.
he stretches a bit and turns to spoon you as per usual, eyes closing in contentment.
but you wince, even if adeptly, and it sends alarms ringing through his head.
he jerks up, and his hand is instantly placed on your arm again, softly. there is an ever so faint change in your expression as your eyebrows furrow, and he has never pulled his hand away so fast.
he keeps debating in his head whether to wake you up or not, but he swiftly settles for the former.
he needs to know what happened. so he, regrettably, nudges your sleepy form, “y/n?”
you groan, but, nonetheless, you reply, “…what?”
while satoru often likes to base theatrics around his every move and phrase, but he also knows when to get straight to the point, “did you get hurt on today’s mission?”
you’re no longer half-asleep, and you quickly sit up, eyeing your husband. knowing there is no escape nor denial, you fidget with your fingers and nod slowly.
then you hurriedly utter, “but I was going to see shoko first thing in the morning; I promise!”
he nods slowly, holding your hands in his own. you’re left to look him in the eyes. satoru’s eyes being exposed makes him feel so vulnerable, or at least that’s how he is with you.
you can see every wrinkle, and every crease; you can see what he is thinking about in real time. he has long given up hiding anything from you, and, besides, it feels fresh to just let go.
but right now, as you look into his eyes, you see them swarming with confliction, pain, and worry.
he doesn’t scold you about not going right now because he knows that you will tell him that you either thought it wasn’t a big deal or that you didn’t want to bother shoko with it.
instead, he settles on a hushed whisper of “can I see it?”
you throw him a confused look, “why? I am getting it treated tomorrow anyway,” then you smile, “it’s not going to permanent if that’s what you’re worried about.”
he shakes his head, “it’s not that; I just—“ he takes a deep breath then looks at you pleadingly, “just let me see it.”
perhaps it’s to silence his thoughts and to show him that you’re truly okay, as okay as you can be.
you’re still alive, and that’s what matters, he thinks. nevertheless, he feels the need to see just how serious is the wound anyway.
reluctantly, you slowly take off your jacket to reveal the poorly bandaged gash on your arm.
he looks up at you, asking for permission because even if he needs to see it for his own selfish reasons, he has to put you above anything and everything else.
you nod, giving the free reign to slowly take off the bandages. you can barely hold back any pained noises, but you can’t help the wincing of your body.
satoru’s frown deepens, and with every move, your husband’s heart aches. it goes like that until the wound is finally unveiled.
you feel satoru observing the cut so intently that you look away. satoru curses everything that he can think of, and never has we wanted the ability to heal others more than right now.
he straightens his back, “that’s a deep cut, y’know.”
“I know…”
“you also realize that the wound could’ve hit your chest and inevitably heart, right?”
you huff, “listen, if you’re going to give me a lecture or keep making me feel bad about it then I will have you know—“
“you could’ve died.”
you notice the strain in his voice, so you turn to finally look eyes with him. he looks pained, so hurt, maybe even terrified at the fact that there was a chance that he could’ve lost you.
your expression immediately becomes that of sympathy, “but I didn’t, and dwelling on the fact that I might’ve died will only bother you for no reason,” you hold his hand, “I am here and alive, aren’t I?”
your husband sighs, resting his head on your right shoulder, “you’re hurting my poor little heart whenever you put yourself in danger like that.”
a giggle escapes your lips, and your hands naturally find their way in his hair, fingers gently carding through, “whatever shall we do.”
“if things went my way then you would just stay home looking all pretty like you always do,” he states, and you roll your eyes.
“well, they’re going my way tonight, so—“ the clock strikes twelve, “happy birthday, silly boy.”
his eyes widen and he pulls away to look you in the face. he blinks dumbly then looks at what’s in your hands: a cupcake with a candle.
a wide grin of unbridled joy appears on your husband’s face. his eyes shimmer in the moonlight as he laughs, “I really didn’t expect it this time!”
“you outdid yourself, pretty girl,” he hums, hand caressing your cheek.
“I still have a lot more things for you,” you beam with pride. satoru can’t contain himself anymore, and he pulls you into a loving embrace.
“I love you so much,” he murmurs beside your ear, pressing a light kiss to the side of your neck.
you pat his back, “I love you too, ‘toru,” you laugh, “but you’re pressing on my wound, and I think I am just going to cry and not because of overwhelming love.”
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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported
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marvelouslizzie · 6 months
Text
Pretty Little Thing - co-written with @notafunkiller
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Summary: Your long-time crush, Bucky Barnes, is a regular at the bar where you work, and tonight, it's impossible to avoid serving him for the first time.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Warnings: +18, alcohol, oral sex (f receiving), rough sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names, no mention of y/n
Word Count: 3.8K
A/N: @notafunkiller and I merged our separate ideas into one and this is the outcome. It was so much fun to write. We hope it'll me the same while reading too.
All work is ours, please do not repost or translate without our permission.
Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message us. Unless it’s hate. That’s never welcome.
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You thought this night would be calm and easy, that nothing significant would happen. All that changed when Bucky Barnes set foot in the bar. It’s not his first time here by any means, but until now you successfully managed to avoid him by asking the other bartender to serve his side. This time, unfortunately, you are working alone. It’s a slow night, so there’s no way you can really avoid him.
You watch him find an empty place and sit down, and you really don’t know what to do. You can feel yourself sweating already. You are so nervous. Not because you are afraid of him or anything. He doesn’t look scary. Not to you. You are afraid to embarrass yourself in front of him, but you should be able to ask for his order and serve it without messing it up. That’s not so hard. 
Just keep it simple, you tell yourself.
“Hey, what can I get you?”
Bucky looks up from his phone straight into your eyes, and you freeze a little.
“Hello, do you... a draft beer, please.”
His answer confuses you. That’s not his usual order. 
“You sure you don’t want something stronger? We have that bourbon.” You curse yourself internally for paying attention and not being able to hold your tongue.
He raises his eyebrow surprised. “How do you know that? There is no way you served me any drinks cause I would remember you.”
He frowns as soon as he finishes speaking. Maybe you helped your colleague or maybe you were informed about what he drinks just in case he showed up. He’s still the Winter Soldier after all.
“I never served you before.” You say with a shy smile. You hope this is enough of an answer for him.
“Do I look like a bourbon man?” He asks playfully before giving you a smile that transforms his face a little, softening his features. 
“You look like you enjoy quality stuff, and between you and me, our draft beer is shitty.”
That comment makes him chuckle. You’re so distracted by his face that you don’t notice how his eyes fall straight to your breasts.
“Thanks for the tip. Normal beer then?”
“If you insist.” You smile and open the small fridge under the bar where you keep some of the beers. You quickly open it and put it right in front of him, not realizing that gesture shows off your bartender skills a little bit.
He doesn’t look away from you as he takes a big sip before placing the bottle on the table quickly.
“For how long have you been working here?”
“For the past year.” You avoid making eye contact while drying some of the freshly washed glasses.
“Oh.” He sounds kind of taken aback. “I’m surprised you never served me. I’ve been coming here for what? Seven months?”
“Eight.” You bite your bottom lip as soon as the word slips out, trying to shut yourself up so you won’t mess up even more. What were you thinking? Well, you weren't…
His eyes immediately glow, and you wonder if you fucked up for good.
“So you’ve been keeping an eye on me?” He brings the bottle to his mouth and before you can say anything, you watch him finishing it in one go.
“I just noticed you.” Of course, you kept an eye on him, but you played it down a little.
“Well, I didn’t notice you,” he says regretfully. “And I wonder how. I am pretty aware of my surroundings... especially if they are full of beautiful people like you.”
You can’t help but blush, yet you try to sound unaffected. You don’t know if you succeed or not, though.
“This place is usually so crowded and full of… people. So it’s normal.”
“Neah,” he denies immediately. “Have you been hiding or something?”
“I was just on the other side of the bar.” And you were trying to hide from him, saving yourself from this embarrassment because you knew if you talked to him you would fuck up. You were right.
“So I was on the wrong side this whole time.” He shakes his head. “Another beer, please, doll.”
“The same?” You ask while trying not to dwell on the pet name he uses.
“Yes, please. And one drink for you. Whatever you want, if you are allowed to drink, of course.”
The way he offers to buy you a drink surprises you. You feel quite nervous, but you try to maintain your calm. He’s probably just being nice, right? 
“I am allowed to drink, but that’s not necessary.”
He pouts. “I didn’t mean you need to talk to me for it, doll. There are no conditions for this drink.”
“Oh.” You didn’t even think he would take it this way. “That’s not why I said it’s not necessary. I wasn’t worried about that.”
“Okay. Whatever you want... I won’t insist.”
“It’s just… I am allowed to drink whatever I want. You don’t need to pay for it.” You try to explain so he won’t take it the wrong way.
“Alright,” he says, a little distant, as you open up another bottle of beer and put it in front of him. 
“I just didn’t want you to pay extra when I can get it for free.” You don’t know why you are explaining yourself like this. It’s normal not to accept drinks from customers.
“It’s fine, I totally understand. Thank you!” He reaches for the bottle immediately.
You take a fancy glass out of the rack and pour yourself one of the ready-to-serve cocktails that your colleague prepared, right in front of him. He doesn’t say anything as he keeps staring at your hands.
“Thanks for the drink.” You say while putting the bottle away.
“Me?” He asks surprised. “Thought this is on the bar.”
“Well, you gave me the idea, and if you really insist on spending your money so unnecessarily, who am I to stop you?”
“That’s a good attitude.” He smiles again before bringing his bottle close to your glass. “Cheers to a good Thursday in a lovely company.”
You clink your glass with a smile on your face. It seems like he finally understood your intention, so you feel relieved. 
“How does that taste?”
“Don’t let the color fool you, it tastes really strong but delicious.” You look at him for a second and notice that got his interest. “Wanna taste it?” You offer your own drink to him, and he contemplates for a few seconds before leaning in.
“Yes, I am curious.”
You hand the glass to him. Your fingers touch for a second, and you get so excited that you worry about dropping the glass. It’s like your heart is in your throat.
“Your hands are cold,” he comments casually before taking a sip right from the spot covered by your lipstick. You gasp. You have no idea if he did it on purpose, but the way he’s drinking it… your body is responding to that so much. You clear your throat, trying to calm yourself down. 
“Delicious.” He smiles, handing back your glass, and you notice a bit of lipstick in the corner of his mouth.
It creates this internal dilemma. Should you just let him know about it or act like nothing happened and let him walk around like this? The second one could cause him a lot of embarrassment, and you don’t wanna be the reason for that. That’s why you suddenly find yourself leaning closer to him, just to wipe the lipstick off. He doesn’t move an inch, not jumping like you would expect, letting you touch him. When you realize what you are doing, you suddenly feel super self-conscious. 
“You…” You gulp down. “You have… lipstick on… just here.” 
You keep rubbing your finger against the corner of his mouth. You feel his stubble and how soft his lips are, but you try not to think about it. He chuckles, covering your hand with his. It surprises you so much that you freeze for a second. Then you look into his eyes, struggling to see if you made him feel uncomfortable or not.
“So considerate of you. Thank you.”
You move your hand away from his mouth but not away from his touch. Somehow you can’t find the strength to do that. 
What he does next, though, makes you completely breathless. He brings your hand to his mouth again, but this time he presses his lips gently against your skin, smiling right after. Your eyes open with surprise, feeling completely speechless, yet you don’t move away. You don’t even realize you are smiling slightly.
“Your hands are still so cold.”
“Yeah…” You try to speak, but it feels like your words are stuck in your throat. “They are always cold.”
“We need to change that.” He places another kiss on your hand.
*
He’s surprisingly nervous as he leads you to the living room. Based on his confidence back in the bar, you didn’t expect him to become so shy all of a sudden.
“Do you want some coffee?”
“No.” You answer quickly. The only thing you want is to feel his lips again but you keep that thought to yourself.
“What do you want then?” 
It’s obvious in his tone and the way he looks at you he doesn’t ask you about drinks.
“You.” You can’t believe you said this out loud, but it’s the truth.
He doesn’t need another push as he comes closer, grabbing you by the chin. Your lips crash together with an almost desperate hunger. He takes the opportunity immediately, getting his tongue inside your mouth in a fervent exploration. The sensation is electrifying.
You let him explore your mouth while you focus on his taste. It’s so unique and tasty, you just can’t get enough of it. Your hands slowly move toward the back of his head, pulling him closer.
“Fuck,” he groans when he feels your touch, breaking the kiss just to move his lips to your neck. 
“Mhmm… James.” His lips feel so good against your neck. It just sends a jolt of arousal through your body.
But then he freezes, with his mouth glued to your neck. You open your eyes confused wanting to ask him what happened, and that’s when you realize what you’ve just said.
“You know who I am?” His voice is a warm whisper against your skin.
“Of course, I know who you are.” You make it sound so natural as if there’s no way you wouldn’t know who he is. “You think I go to the houses of men I don’t know?” You say playfully.
“I didn’t mean that...” He raises his head from the crook of your neck just to look you in the eye. “I didn’t mean it offensively, I just wasn’t sure. I’m just stupid, I didn’t expect it.”
“I know who you are, James Bucky Barnes.”
“Fuck,” he groans, bringing his thumb to your bottom lip. “Say it again.”
“James Bucky Barnes or just James?”
He kisses you more desperately than before, his hands finding your hips as he gently grabs them, pulling you so close that you can feel his erection. You gasp so softly, but he hears it anyway, and you settle on his hard cock so it’s right against where you want it to be.
He moans. “Let’s go to the bedroom, doll.”
“Why?” You ask innocently as if you don’t know what he means. “Isn’t your couch comfortable enough?”
For him? Sure. But for you?
“The bed is better.”
“Okay.” You sound so obedient suddenly as you wrap your legs around his torso.
He immediately lifts you up without effort, and you smile, letting him carry you toward his room. He’s a super soldier after all. He closes the door with his foot as soon as you’re inside, then he gently puts you on the bed, like he’s afraid you might break. The way he’s acting is so endearing, but you want him to let go really badly. Even the manner he starts to take off your pants is too gentle.
You let him undress you the way he wants, though. Then you move closer to him, taking his clothes off, your movements not as gentle as his. You are impatient and needy. You see him holding his breath when you reach to touch his chest, close to where his metal arm begins, so you lean in to leave a kiss right there. You don’t know if you are crossing a line, but you have to. He should know that this is not something that would bother you, on the contrary, it turns you on even more. When he doesn’t move away from you, you keep kissing around his scars and his chest. Your hand is on his shoulder, gently caressing.
 “That feels so good, doll,” he says with a sigh before he grabs your waist. “but it's time for me to eat.”
You find yourself on your back so suddenly that you don’t even have time to react. He quickly settles between your legs and you understand exactly what he meant. He lifts them enough so you can rest them on his shoulders as he gets more comfortable on his tummy. You feel a hole in your stomach immediately. You can’t believe Bucky is between your thighs, about to eat you out.
He’s taking his sweet time at first, kissing down your thighs and even smelling you before he finally brings his tongue to your entrance.
“Come on, James. Don’t tease me.” You look down just to see him smiling.
“Why not? You seem to enjoy it.”
“I would enjoy it more if you stopped teasing and started eating.”
Surprisingly, Bucky doesn’t waste more time and properly starts to fuck you with his tongue. He’s not too quick, nor too slow with his moves, and you’re shocked when he brings his fingers to your mouth. 
“Need you to make them wet for me, please.” Even while saying that, he sounded a little too polite.
“On one condition,” you say, looking directly into his eyes. “Stop acting like I am made of glass.”
“But you kinda are.”
“I am not. Believe me.”
He says nothing, making sure to lick your slit before getting his tongue inside you again, his fingers, glued to your lips. You take it as a silent agreement and you open your mouth, suck his fingers, and let him wet them. When he thinks it’s enough, he gently takes them out and brings them right to your clit. He doesn’t touch it directly at first, teasing around it until you move your hips a little, needing to feel your clit stimulated.
“Please.” The way he’s taking his sweet time is so frustrating.
He lets his hand drop and instead of feeling his fingers on your clit, you feel his tongue at the same time he gets a finger inside you. You moan loudly, finally getting what you wanted from the start.
His other hand reaches for yours when he hears you grabbing the sheet, and you immediately hold it, enjoying how his cold metal feels. When you feel the second finger and he scissors both of them inside you, you’re shocked by how close you suddenly are. You can’t help but arch your back and move your hips, needing it faster.
He reads the signals pretty quickly and lets you use his mouth while he keeps pumping his fingers. It doesn’t take long for you to gasp, moan, and start to shake because of the pleasure he’s giving you. 
“James! Shit. I’m- gonna… ahh… come.”
You moan louder than you expected, dropping your head against his sheets, possessed by a great wave of pleasure. You want to tell him not to stop anything, but you can’t. And you don’t need to as he keeps licking and fingering you while you ride your orgasm out, prolonging it as much as possible.
When it’s done, you are feeling so good yet you are hungry for more. You raise your head a little and see Bucky still between your legs, but this time his beard is covered with your slick. He looks so handsome. His blue eyes are shining and his hair is all messy. It makes you wanna kiss him and that’s exactly what you do. You reach down to him, and he meets you in the middle, kissing you the way he was just eating you out: with passion and hunger.
He’s less gentle than before as you feel his hands grabbing your breasts, but it’s still not enough. You cover his hands with yours and push him to grab them harder than before. You let out a muffled moan while kissing him.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.”
You find yourself blushing like you two aren’t having sex. To mask your reaction, you reach out to his hard cock, gently grabbing it.
“Oh god,” he groans as he instinctively squeeze your breasts harder.
“Mhmm, yes.” You lean into his touch. “Just like that.”
Bucky looks at you as if you said something shocking. Is he not used to communicating during sex?
“What? Did I do something wrong?”
“You’re surprising me for someone so delicate.”
“I told you, I am not.”
He smiles. “Do you wanna help me put on a condom then?”
“I would love to, but…” You smile. “What if I told you I am clean and on the pill?”
“Fuck, I need you.” He kisses you suddenly. “Now.”
“I am right here.” It sounds so calming. “You can take me however you want.”
You’re not only on your back in the next second, but you also have his cock lined up at your entrance.
“Jesus, doll! For a pretty little thing, you’re quite nasty.”
“I just know what I want.” And this is it.
He nods, wrapping your legs around his ass at the same time he pushes inside you. In a second, your head is thrown back while you moan loudly. The way he fills you is so delicious. It makes you feel so full but not uncomfortable.
“You’re taking me so well already.”
“Please…” You raise your hips to create more friction. “Please, move.”
He brings his mouth to your breast a little before he starts thrusting, making sure to leave a small hickey right on top of it. It hurts so good, and you moan without holding back. It is music to Bucky’s ears. He just wants to hear it again, so he does it again.
“You want it rough, don’t you?” He thrusts harder than before. “You’re so needy.”
“Yeah.” Your voice is so shaky already. “I told you already.”
“Told me what?” He teases. “I don’t remember.”
“That I am not made of glass.”
“No, you are made for me.” He brings his hand to your face to move the hair strands that cover your eyes. “For my cock.”
“In that case…” You don’t know where the sudden rush of confidence comes from. “You are made for me. To fill me up.” You move your hips again, trying to fuck yourself on him.
“Oh, god. You’re so fucking wet,” he moans. “I am, I’m gonna fill you up so much.” He kisses you suddenly, your teeth almost crashing together because of the thrusts, but you don’t care.
“Can’t wait.” You tease him. “Don’t hold back, okay?”
He says nothing, letting his head drop a little so he can suck on your neck properly. He’s definitely fucking you harder. He pulls until he’s almost completely out of you before thrusting inside you again. And again. And again. It takes your breath away. The way it makes you feel is indescribable. You lose the little remaining control you had and just turn into a moaning mess. 
“Say my name, baby. C-come on.”
“James?” You sound hesitant even if you don’t mean to because you don’t know which name he wants to hear.
“Again,” he begs, his metal arm on your leg pushing it right against his ass.
“James!” This one comes out so naturally. No questions, no hesitation. You just breathe out his name with a moan.
“God, you look so beautiful. So pretty with my cock inside you.” His thrusts get faster, and you have no idea how he can speak so well while you’re a mess.
“I’m so close,” you can barely say without taking a breath in the middle of the sentence.
“What do you want?”
“Just… harder.”
“Like this?” He asks, suddenly thrusting a little harder than before. “Or like this?”
“This! Yes! Just like this!”
“You just want it hard.” He whispers against your ear. “What a dirty girl.”
You hear him, but you can’t respond. You are too busy coming all over his cock, and it feels like you are in heaven. He continues to fuck you as the pleasure fades away, murmuring how pretty you are and how good you make him feel before he comes, too, grabbing the bedpost behind you with his metal arm. It makes a clicking sound, but you don’t care, opening your still foggy eyes just to watch him.
There’s so much come. You can already feel it dripping out of you as he keeps fucking you. You expect it to end soon, but it doesn’t. It goes on and on. The way he loses control as he comes just triggers another orgasm out of you. You would be surprised how quickly you could come again if it didn’t feel overwhelmingly good. You can’t think about anything other than him and the way he makes you feel.
His come is getting all over your thighs and ass, and the bed, as he moans. “Kakaya khoroshaya devochka.” What a good girl.
You can’t help but laugh despite not understanding a word of what he says. “Is that Russian?”
He opens his eyes, and the blue you love is almost completely grey. “Yes.” He sounds confused, too. 
“What does it mean?” Your afterglow can’t overshadow your curiosity. “If you don’t tell me, this isn’t happening again.” You try to make it obvious you aren’t serious with your playful tone. Especially not after those orgasms.
“Look at you, little and feisty, blackmailing me.” He chuckles before leaving a kiss on your lips. “I told you what a good girl you are. I didn’t realize I spoke in Russian.”
You laugh a little. “Say it again.” You give him the cutest look. “Please?”
“Ty moya khoroshaya devochka.” He repeats softly. You’re my good girl.
You don’t even realize how content you look as you keep smiling.
“Now, I can get used to that.”
“Say my name again, please.”
You love the neediness in his voice. “James?” You tilt your head a little. “Or would you prefer Bucky?”
“Fuck, it doesn’t matter.” His thumb is suddenly on your lips. “I can get used to that, too.”
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forlix · 7 months
Text
𝘀𝘂𝗯𝘁𝗲𝘅𝘁・l.f.
— in which you forget that your hot housemate follows you on twitter.
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𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀・1.1k 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴・roommate!felix x gn!streamer!reader 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲𝘀・fluff, flirting, kind of an smau, implied friends to lovers, humor if u count jeongin being a piece of shit
𝗮/𝗻・saw this tweet the other day and it was so painfully lix coded that i knew i had to write something asap. contains a tiny bit of gaming jargon but is hopefully comprehensible. ENJOY ♡
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y/n ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹ @ y/nxx
if someone brings you fresh cut fruit to your table when you're gaming, they either like LIKE you or it's your mom
11:23 A.M.・Oct. 2023・220.2K Views
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bokkie 🐣 liked your post.
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“My tweet?”
You read aloud the newest text in your chatroom, and your face brightens when you remember the one in question.
“Oh, about the fruit—no, it’s so true though. And I love my mom, don't get me wrong, but I have an inkling she did it to guilt trip me." You change your posture and adopt your best motherly tone of voice. "‘This is your tenth consecutive hour wasting your young adulthood in front of that damn screen. I am now going to hand deliver apple slices straight to your mouth.’ That kind of vibe, y'know?"
A slew of messages follows your anecdote, but it is a comment from one of your moderators that catches your eye first:
je0ng1n: what about the other option tho 👀
You groan at the sight of his username. “Man, why are you always here? Don't you have a job?"
je0ng1n: i’m on break je0ng1n: taking a dump je0ng1n: ungrateful bitch
You brandish a middle finger to the camera. “Hope the dump sucks."
je0ng1n: HEY je0ng1n: don’t even joke about that :(
An involuntary cackle precedes your next words. “If you’re actually wondering, though, the only person who’s brought me fruit while I’m playing video games is indeed my mother. Heartbreaking, I know.”
At this, the steady flow of messages morphs into a gallery of depressed cat emoticons; your audience never fails to impress you with their way with words.
“But if someone other than your disappointed parent is bringing you fruit,” you go on, “they might as well get on one knee in the process, honestly. That's such an adorable, loving thing to do.”
Suddenly, the words MATCH FOUND splash across your monitor, and you move your cursor to accept the game invite—only to be met with a pop-up window and a familiar error sound that grates on your ears like screeching tires.
You know how this story ends: the lights in your mouse go dark, and you look on in dejected silence.
je0ng1n: LMFAOOOOO je0ng1n: bro’s mouse definitely just exploded again
“You guessed it," you sigh. “Hang tight for a sec, guys."
Half an hour ago, you could’ve sworn you heard sneakers being kicked off, a set of keys falling against plastic. Now, you pull one side of your headphones off and roll your chair a few feet backward, calling through your half-open door: “Lix, are you home?”
You pick up on a soft clunk that sounds like metal hitting wood—the cutting board, maybe?—and then your housemate's low, accented answer bounces off the walls of your shared hallway.
“Yeah, you alright?”
“The mouse,” you say helplessly.
“Ah.” It’s not the first time you’ve summoned him for this. “Be right there.”
A few seconds later, you remember to tack on a hurried disclaimer: “I’m live, by the way!”
“I know.”
This brings a bashful smile to your face, though the expression quickly turns to one of pure dismay when you return to your desk and witness the disastrous state of your chat.
Felix has become a regular guest on your stream by now, always popping in to show you a TikTok or ask for your opinion on a new pair of jeans or simply give your camera an awkward wave—but he may as well own your channel with how completely and unequivocally he has captured the hearts of your viewers. They’re convinced he’s the sexiest person to ever grace the earth, with his chiseled features and coffee-colored eyes; with a grin that could set entire estates on fire and a voice that could scrape the nadir of the Grand Canyon.
Do you agree? Absolutely.
Do you have any intention of voicing this sentiment, so long as you’re splitting rent with him? Absolutely the hell not.
Another of Jeongin’s messages—GET ME HIS NUMBER OR I GET VIOLENT—inspires you to minimize the stream window before Felix gets here. It’s for the best.
A few moments later, the door opens, and the air shifts inside your room. A hand comes to rest on the top of your head; a familiar silhouette appears in your periphery. There is a fond grin plastered across your face and a bright greeting sitting readily on the tip of your tongue.
But then, Felix places a plate of freshly cut fruit in the empty space to the left of your keyboard—here, he hums, the sound falling against the shell of your ear like a drop of melted chocolate. And the gears of your brain grind to a complete stop.
There is no further acknowledgment; no supplementary explanation for what he's just done. He simply picks up your mouse and gets to work.
The words of your tweet swim dizzyingly before your eyes, not unlike those halos of stars and birds that revolve around disoriented cartoon characters. And you’re suddenly, achingly aware of your roommate's arm nudging against yours as he tinkers away; of the aromas of vanilla and laundry detergent that always come with his proximity; of the heat that’s risen to your face, and the plethora of questions that have surfaced to your mind.
A soft huff of laughter follows a gentle utterance of your name, and you snap out of your trance. Felix’s eyes are glinting with amusement when you meet them.
“It’s been recalibrated,” he says, handing back your mouse. “Just give it a few minutes.”
Your fingertips brush over his palm when you accept the object, and even this blink of contact has your heart performing an elaborate hopscotch routine across the plane of your chest.
It’s either your mom, or…
“Thank you,” you mumble, finally retrieving your larynx from the bottom of the Atlantic.
“Anytime,” Felix returns, and you know he means it. “You need a duo, by the way?"
“Yes, please.”
He gives you a warm smile at this, and there’s a hint of something else—something new—in the curve of his lips. “Give me two.” And he’s gone as quickly as he'd come.
You will never know how Felix slips his phone out of his pocket the second he emerges from your room, his pulse hounding his ears as he turns a nervous gaze upon his screen.
There is now a supersonic blur of messages saturating your chatroom, a colorful cacophony of moving emotes and capital letters, but he is focused wholly on the person in front of the camera and how you slowly lift a hand to your mouth, deathly silent despite your every viewer demanding your comment on the matter, your sanguine cheeks visible even through the gaps of your fingers.
That is all he needs to know.
Felix sinks into the leather of his gaming chair and bends to power on his computer. Only after a deep breath blows past his lips does his smile start to stretch into a grin, every bit as embarrassed as it is relieved.
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je0ng1n: no way je0ng1n: no fucking way je0ng1n: my heart fluttered je0ng1n: wtf je0ng1n: how’d you pull HIM??
y/nxx has removed je0ng1n as a moderator of this channel.
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𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸? please consider reblogging, commenting, or sending me an ask to let me know; or, read my other works here. thanks so much for the support ♡
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© 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘅 (est. 090323) · all works are pieces of original writing and all characters and relationships are purely fictional. please do not repost or reuse for any reason.
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lo1k-diamonds · 3 months
Text
SX Seoul Series | Yoongi Entry 💜 Sugar Rush Ride
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PAIRING: Yoongi/Reader
SUMMARY: You produced a song based on your hidden desires for your fellow producer and promised yourself that tonight, things would change. You were done pining after him, but then he arrived at the listening party.
WORD COUNT: 12.6k
GENRE: coworkers (mutually) pining to lovers
RATING: R (explicit)
WARNINGS: explicit, pwp (porn w/ plot really), drunk fight (but you sober up...sort of), bratty reader, rough but Yoongi is pro at aftercare, fingerfucking, face-fucking, edging, spankings, his hand is on your neck a lot (am I forgetting something?)
(You can also read it on AO3)
A.N. This is based on the song of the same title by TXT 🔥 It was not planned and maybe it has been done before, but it was too good to miss 😁
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Yoongi parked his car underground in a private parking lot before stepping outside into the night in Itaewon. It was crowded as usual, but he paid no mind to the passersby — he had somewhere to be.
He reached the steps that led into a famous club in the neighborhood and entered below the red lines warming up the humidity into steam: SX.
He was giving away his coat when the music from the backroom hit him, the pop music with the codename temptation resonating in the air, and in his ribcage. He stepped towards it confidently, unbothered by the instant boom of noise that hit him once the door opened and closed again behind him. No, nothing would bother him until he found what he was looking for.
He scanned the room attentively, the darkness crossed punctually and rhythmically by the flashes of lights to the beat of the songs he helped produce himself. All but one song that ended up being the main track, the reason why he had rushed to be at the listening party tonight.
He got to the bar and looked around again; he saw lots of people he knew, the artists included. None had seen him yet, so he took the chance to search even more carefully. And finally, his eyes fell on you. You were listening attentively as you held your hair to the side and someone, a man spoke into your ear above the noise. Then you burst out laughing, shoulders and chest trembling with excitement, and your hand landed on the man’s chest. Not in a smack, not to push him away, just subtly placed there in an intimate gesture, or an invitation thereof.
Yoongi was by your side before he knew it. The man with you looked up with a silent question and you flinched and looked back, eyes instantly widening in surprise.
“Yoongi! You’re back!”
You launched your arms around his neck to pull him into a hug, and he immediately knew you had alcohol in your system. Despite this, he reacted the only way he could be expected to — he wrapped a protective arm around you and looked straight into the eyes of that dude trying his luck.
“Right on time,” you grinned when you stepped back. “Inhyuk, this is Yoongi, the producer I was telling you about.”
The guy bowed and said something polite, but Yoongi wasn’t listening. You had stepped to stand beside the guy and his hand had comfortably set on your waist. For a second, his sole thought was, Since when? But then he cooled down.
“I see. Well, enjoy the party. I’ll see you later,” he told you with his eyes set on yours and you got the message.
But you didn’t want to worry about that right now, so when Inhyuk pulled you by the waist to talk to you a bit closer, you didn’t flinch. You smiled and agreed to have another drink while the crowd around you listened and enjoyed the album you helped produce. You were proud of yourself, it was the fruit of your first year of work with—
The main track started and the crowd cheered as it did every time it played. Your eyes watered as Inhyuk congratulated you and clinked his drink to yours but as you drank, there was heat building inside of you. It was funny to hear the lyrics you wrote being sung back at you and fit perfectly at that moment. But then you chuckled, as your eyes fell on Min Yoongi. Your thoughts would always stop as soon as he was back near you. That would never change.
Yet you looked up and smiled at Inhyuk, giddy with your drink and with excitement. You made a vow when you decided to let this song be performed and sung — it was you putting your feelings into your work to get rid of them. That was the deal.
Inhyuk smiled mischievously at you as if he couldn’t believe, but didn’t disapprove, of the song's lyrics speaking so openly about desire, about opening locked doors into seeing stars and asking for more. And you kept smiling and drinking. Because you made a deal with yourself and maybe tonight was the perfect time to go into a new direction.
The song was only three minutes long, but it drove Yoongi to a corner. He gripped his tonic water and faced the bar while the music kept calling to him, Come here more, let’s play more.
Just like the first time he heard it and was covered in goosebumps, wild thoughts coming to him that he had to quickly water down. He sighed; it didn’t stop him from flying back as soon as possible to talk to you about it. Confront you, more like.
He turned to the side to find you by the bar having shots with that guy, and that was it. The full album had played, you had your moment in the spotlight as you should, the artists were having a blast alongside everyone else, and he had had enough of seeing you so close to some guy.
You were on your fourth tequila shot when you felt an arm extend behind you to reach the bar, and you shivered. Not because it was cold; you were sweating from the drinks and the energy of the crowd. No, it was because you knew who it was, even if the arm didn’t touch you.
“We should go,” his voice was steady near your ear even though your head was spinning a little.
“The night is still young!” Inhyuk said as he grinned and grabbed another shot glass, waiting for you to do the same, but despite your giddiness, you hesitated. 
You looked up to Yoongi and saw his neutral beautiful lines, and you understood what he was doing.
The guy saw he was losing you, so he moved closer to get your attention, “I can take you home.”
He said it with amusement, like a tease, and you grinned. You were taken by the energy between you two; you both knew where that was going. But then a breath being slowly heaved behind you shook your foundations and you looked down. Yoongi was just doing his part of the deal, but suddenly you were fucking pissed. He couldn’t possibly understand that you needed to be with someone, anyone other than him. Desperately, before you’d fucking combust!
But he was your coworker, the genius producer of your label. And despite everything, you didn’t want to burn a bridge. Inhyuk was not that great anyway.
You shrugged almost innocently, “Maybe next time. It was nice meeting you.”
Yoongi pointed so that you’d go ahead to the exit and you did. Yet with every step, something was bubbling up your throat. There was a lump there, blocking you from voicing it while you grabbed your coats, walked the cold night to his car, and got in to be on your way.
The whole ride you argued with yourself that this was for the best. You shouldn’t have sex with someone after so many drinks, that was not how it was supposed to go. But maybe that was what you needed to have the courage to just move on. To want another man as desperately, and not the one driving you home right now. You needed it, you needed to go crazy and do something you wouldn’t normally do. You needed the regret, to stop playing safe, to stop believing your heart knew what was best for you when all it did was set on someone who saw you as nothing but a colleague.
When you arrived, he entered the private parking of your apartment building and parked swiftly. It made your stomach bubble further with anger, he was just so used to taking you home. That was the deal. Well, screw that.
“Thanks, good night.”
You pushed the door open and peeled yourself away, closing it with a bham only to seek support in the car instantly. Your legs were wobbly, the world was spinning and you cursed in irritation. It was fine before, why was it so difficult now?
His door opened and closed, the car beeped as it locked, then his steps echoed to get to you. And everything was like needles prickling your patience. He stood next to you to help you and you didn’t know what you wanted more: to scream at him or to just disappear.
But he placed his hand on your waist firmly, walked you to the lobby and the elevator, and even dialed your code to enter your apartment. It infuriated you — it reminded you of all the times over the last year that he had done his part of the deal. That he had taken you home safe and sound, and still never seen you for anything more while you pined helplessly.
So you tried to reach your living room without his help and stumbled very quickly, yet a firm grip on your arm prevented you from falling face flat. Normally, you would have blushed, thanked him, and let the politeness and decorum dictate your interactions, but not now.
You pulled your arm loose, “I don’t need a chaperone!”
“And I don't need you to fall and break a leg.”
You threw your jacket and purse over your couch finally with a frustrated huff. The world was spinning and annoying you so fucking much. You needed to scream at him once and for all and be done with it, why couldn’t it stand still?
“Why did you interfere?”
“What do you mean?” He was calmly taking his shoes off after hanging his coat by the entrance and his placidness irked you.
“I was having a good time!”
You barely saw the line crossing his face, “He was no good for you.”
“What? Why?!”
“He just wasn’t,” he stated, walking further inside your apartment like he knew it, and he did. He’d normally stay for a chat after bringing you home and made sure you were okay.
“But why?!” You insisted, eyes so wide they looked twice their size, and still the room was shaky. “What was so wrong with him that—”
“He was trying to get you drunk,” he almost scoffed as he reached your kitchen and started looking around for something.
“So?” You tried following him, annoyed that he was not paying attention to you.
He found a cup and right next to it what he was looking for. He took a black coffee capsule and put both things next to your coffee machine. “He just wanted sex.”
He seemed annoyed now as he prepped the coffee and you threw your hands in the air, “I fucking want sex!”
He paused and looked at you, at your wide eyes and red cheeks. And you held your breath, swallowing dryly. Did you just yell that at Min Yoongi? At your genius coproducer?
“You're drunk.”
He pressed the button to draw an expresso from the machine, and you felt like a volcano about to erupt.
“I’m not drunk!!” He didn’t look at you and you gripped your hair with a frustrated scream. “I’m just not only a fucking worker bee, okay?! I have needs, I want things! So what, sex is too much for you to handle or som—”
A look was all it took for you to feel your guts freeze in place. You were so attuned to this fucking man that his slightest hint of disapproval hit you like an icicle. But it wasn’t just that, it was something else. Disappointment?
And you revolted hard against it; he had no right to make you feel this way. “Then what’s the problem?! I can’t want it? Because I’m a woman or something?”
He took the coffee cup and placed it in front of you on the kitchen counter, “Drink it.”
You ignored it, “I didn’t think you were a prude or conservative, but this is me.” You stepped back and fought the traces of the spinning walls vehemently. “I want things. More than just make good music, I’m not just my work.” He was listening, he was looking at you, but all he did was push the cup the slightest in your direction. And you snorted, “Hell, that’s why my music is good. Because I want— I want things.”
You couldn’t look at him, only at his feet. You thought you wanted to scream your frustration at him, but now you realized that was pointless. It wouldn’t matter. He wasn’t into you anyway.
“We’re not talking unless you’re sober.”
You raised your eyes and his coolness hardened you. Right. You’d get a slap on the wrist for getting drunk at the listening party of the album you fucking produced. For wanting to sleep with another producer. For not being professional? Who the fuck knew why. And maybe sober you’d care about losing your dream, but right now you were just fucking done.
“Right, whatever,” you turned to head to your bedroom. “I’ll take a shower, we can talk tomorrow.”
Yoongi saw you walk a bit shakily but firmly toward your bedroom and then he sighed. He considered for a moment to do as you wished and leave, but he didn’t want to leave you alone. Selfishly, he didn’t want to wait for tomorrow. He was restless, he needed to talk to you about it. And to do that, he needed you sober.
He grabbed your coffee cup and knocked on the ajar door with his eyes glued to the floor. He called your name and you scoffed.
“You’re taking our deal too much to the letter,” your voice sounded strained and he closed his free hand into a fist. “You don’t need to worry about—”
He heard noises and he didn’t think twice; he pushed the door open and found you almost fallen to the floor trying to take your dress off. You huffed in annoyance; you should have sat on the bed but then how would the dress pass under—
A firm hand hoisted you up as if you were as light as a feather and you came face to face with him. The man in your dreams, in your mind, making you scream in your bed just at the thought of him. Making you crazy. 
“I’m fine,” you said, looking down. “I can handle myself. You don’t need to bring me home and make sure I don’t—” 
Your voice wavered, what were you— 
Your eyes filled with tears, but maybe that was exactly what needed to happen, “Yeah, let’s stop that. Our deal? Let’s end it. You don’t need to bring me home and watch over me. I know I’m a woman in a men-dominated company, but I’m not a child.”
He sighed and stepped away and your heart cracked, leaving you to hide your face with one hand and try to press your chest with the other. You knew that to move on you had to push him away, but damn did it sting and—
The scent of coffee invaded your nose and you raised your hand from over your eyes. He was holding the coffee cup in front of you.
“Stop for a second and drink it. Then, we’ll talk.”
You looked for the sincerity in his eyes, and of course, you found it. So you took the cup and chugged the expresso as if it had been just another tequila shot. Then you lowered your arm and looked at him, trying to sense if that changed anything. It didn’t really, not for you.
“Did you hear what I said?”
His lips twitched, “I heard you, but you’re not hearing me. Sober, I said.”
You shrugged, “You said drink, I did. So now we talk. No more deal. No more keeping me safe, no more watching over me or bringing me home. I need to— I need to let it all out.”
His lips pursed for a second but then he voiced quietly, “I’m listening.”
“I don’t know what else to say,” you shrugged and almost laughed at yourself. “I told you I want things.”
“You write about what you want.” You hummed. “So what is that main track?”
“What I want.”
You were looking at him, a void in your mind all of a sudden, but he hesitated. You said you wanted sex and the song was about desire. Maybe he was reading it wrong.
“What do you want?”
“It’s not a what.”
“Is it a who?”
Your mouth dried, so you nodded. You were staring right at the object of your desire but he looked confused.
He scratched his head and then tried, “Did you— Did you use those words on purpose?”
“What words?”
“What w—” He seemed bewildered, “My stage name. You used my stage name. Sugar? Was that on purpose?”
For a split second, you were frozen, livid, shocked, and then laughter bubbled out of you, “I thought I had been so clever about it. Saying sugar instead of suga.” He was staring at you and his inexpression only led you to push the air out of your lungs, “I know, you don’t have to say it. You won't touch me, even if pigs fly. I know that.”
“That's not true.”
You tilted your head, then laughed some more, “Yes, it is. You don't even see me as a woman, I'm just another producer.”
“That's also not true.”
“Right,” you chuckled. “Let me give you reasons to walk out that door right now. I not only wanted to sleep with you but wrote a whole main track about wanting you. About being dazed, overwhelmed by desire, wanting just more. Give it a listen. You know I struggle with titles, but the name of the song was the first thing I had.”
You chuckled again and turned around, rubbing your face for a moment. It was out. You didn’t care too much if anyone else knew, and if anyone had thought of it, they had been smart enough to stay quiet. But now he knew, and there was no going back. Sugar rush ride. You laughed again. You stood by that tile.
“I—” His voice sounded unsure for the first time and you turned to face him. “I don’t— Was it just a rush? You felt a rush at the thought of me and wrote that?”
“What difference does it make?”
“It makes a world of a difference,” he insisted, eyes set on you though he hadn’t moved an inch yet. “I still haven’t heard you say what you want now.”
“What I want?” You were incredulous, “Are you even listening? I’ve been saying nothing else! What?” He was unmoving, but for the first time, you could swear you saw his eyes glistening, and you were out of filters. “I want to be with you. You to fuck me already.” You shivered, the strength of your own words working against you. “I have since the day we met. I forgot I had an ex and was heartbroken to finger myself to the thought of you so many times I lost count.” He opened his mouth but you didn’t let him speak, “Shut up. I know what you'll say. I’ve wasted a year of my life. We're kind of friends and we work together. I know all that,” you huffed, exhausted. “So just leave.”
You turned to get to your ensuite bathroom and this time succeeded in pulling the dress out of your body, letting it fall to the ground with a rustle. You turned to reach the makeup remover over your counter and almost missed the way he was still standing in your room, looking at you. You blinked as you faced him, and your nipples hardened without your control with the goosebumps navigating your skin. You had nothing on, you rarely did in events like those. You used it to boost your self-esteem and feel sexy, and now you guessed he knew it too.
You removed your makeup relatively quickly and were curious to look back, and he was gone. You looked down with tears pooling in your eyes; but of course. Why did it all just have to come out of your mouth like that? Now he knew your deepest darkest secrets and would never want to work together again in the future. Great.
You stepped into the shower and let the warmth wash away your worries. You were not a child. You had feelings and wants. They were perhaps misplaced, but you didn’t harm anyone. You sighed; still, maybe it was best to look for a new job in the morning.
Once you made peace with that, your mind wandered to greener pastures, to more heavenly thoughts. You reviewed the expression he had as you told him crudely what you wanted, and it was good. Tense. In your wildest fantasies maybe it could be even a little possessive. And the thought of Min Yoongi getting possessive over you turned you on like nothing ever could.
Your hand trailed south along your skin and avoided the water. Your undeniable arousal made you chuckle. You had just told him you touched yourself thinking of him, and there you were again, like clockwork. He never told you not to, he didn’t act disgusted or look at you sideways, so suddenly you felt egged on.
You tilted your ass up and out of the water and spread your folds greedily, closing your eyes to think back to his dark eyes while you were naked in front of him. It was as if he wasn’t thinking, he was just looking. You didn’t see his eyes running up and down your body, but you didn’t have to. No way he would not be curious, even if he had walked out. 
His leaving stung but fuck, was he hot. Now he knew you thought of him and what you did while thinking of him. Your heart stung for a second with the thought that you would lose his friendship, but you got back on track. You were horny and he had created that mess. You tried to kindly tell him to leave so many times, it wasn’t your fault that he lingered until you were spurting the deepest truths and stripping naked to shower. 
And now he knew. He knew you didn't like wearing underwear when you had formal events, how sensitive your nipples were to the cold, and that you had a small blue birthmark at the end of your back. Fuck. He knew you were a dirty little whore fingering yourself to the thought of his cock buried deep—
Two arms wrapped around you and you moaned, too immersed in your fantasy to be startled. You were thinking about his arms around you, his chest strong for your back to take support, hands trailing down your body to explore with long fingers ready to spell your demise so easily—
His fingers were next to yours cupping your sex and you gasped, squirming away only to be pressed against his firm chest.
“No, continue,” his voice was a taunt as his free hand seemed indecisive about where to settle on your body. “You want to touch yourself? Go on.”
You stammered his name but his fingers were quickly learning from yours how to trace your heat, spread your slick, and make you tremble. You were shaking, half embarrassed, half feverish, until his other hand finally settled on groping your breast harshly and you moaned. You moaned with a hiss dragging with how much more you wanted, with your ass bucking into him only to rub more to get a better feeling of his hard cock on your ass. He was clothed, you could feel it, but the thought of him wanting this was driving you up the wall.
He was coming to you while you showered, entering it with clothes on just to reach you, grab you, touch you, and make you moan. There was no hiding it now, no possible misunderstanding. He had fingers rubbing your clit while his other hand squeezed your tit harshly, making your legs weak. Nothing was forcing him to stay, to touch you, to listen to you moan.
You bucked your hips again, you were so close to coming it was unstoppable. Yet a logical thought still tried to push through, “Are you sure about this? We're friends— We work tog—”
If only you weren’t rubbing your ass on his crotch to feel him better, to get tighter, to force his fingers on your clit to chase you.
His reply was a whisper to your ear over your wet hair, “You said what you wanted. You can feel how much I agree.”
Your walls squeezed, you were so ready, “You— You want this?”
His hips pushed into you once and you almost fell apart. “Don’t pretend you can’t feel it. I’m asking myself how you never noticed.”
You gripped his hand over your chest and he released the pressure, instantly making you squirm and whine in a complaint. You pressed his hand and he squeezed again, hearing attentively how your moan pitched wantonly. He hummed near your ear, nuzzling your wet skin with a smile adorning his lips. So that was how you liked it.
“No, I—” Your breath hitched with how he was working you and for the second time you thought you would fall apart, but the intensity reeled back to allow you to think. “Not like this. I noticed you treated me differently but I thought it was because I was the only girl in the studio—”
You staggered with a gasp, your body rushing a cold wave under your skin to contrast with the warm water of the shower, but again the sensation eased as the seconds ticked away. And you knew then that it was him, keeping you on the edge and not letting you fall apart. Him with his smooth fingers and nuzzling behind your ear.
“No, not because of that,” his voice was tense as his lips ghosted over your wet neck. “I was… charmed,” he admitted with a chuckle, and when you bucked your hips, he gripped you closer. “But I thought you saw me as a friend.” The thought alone made his lip pull in annoyance, but the slick covering his fingers at your heat soothed him, “I could have done this so many times if you had just asked.”
He bit down on the tender flesh between your shoulder and neck and you screamed, the sting mixing with your pleasure so viscerally that you could have cum on it alone. Only he sensed it too and moved his hand away, dragging yours along so you couldn’t finish it yourself, and you laughed quietly. He was suckling on your skin with meticulous precision and you could only grin widely, euphoric sparks flying out of control inside your belly.
“You could have said something too,” you sounded like you were whining, but you couldn’t stop yourself. He was now licking where he had just marked you and you were trembling, legs so weak it was embarrassing.
He let go and nuzzled along your neck to your spine in between your wet hair, “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. You either want it or you don’t. I thought you’d say something.”
You chuckled, “I wouldn’t ever. You should have known.”
He hummed and leaned back ever so slightly to look at the curve of your ass pressed against him. Then his hand trailed up, lashed by the shower while gently feeling and pressing your soft skin. He couldn’t believe he almost missed this.
“We have to work on that, then.”
You were still smiling when you let your head fall back to his shoulder, “If you did as I said—”
“I'd be out of here without ever getting to touch you,” his annoyance was clear in his voice, and even in the way his fingers pressed less gently. “Without knowing what’s on your mind. No, you,” he wrapped his arm across your torso to gently reach the base of your neck and you looked up, giving him more space. “You are not in charge here.”
He couldn’t have known the way you were grinning. You just let yourself fall further into his embrace, his hand settling on the base of your neck in a way you found comforting. Then he turned you gently to the side and your back hit the cold wall. A hiss came out of your lips quickly, but you were still smiling. Even as his dark eyes scanned you for your reaction, with one hand keeping you still by the neck. You were waiting with a familiar ease on your features, and he relaxed. That was enough.
Suddenly, your feet parted and you were surprised. He had used his foot to spread your legs and the way his free hand was tracing your wet body like he owned it shortcircuited your brain.
“I want to know what this dirty mind of yours has been keeping from me.”
You could hear a hint of eagerness and it was enough, “I won't tell you.”
“You will.” His tone was so sure, like he held the world at his beckoning, that you trembled. You were sure then he would hold yours, turn it upside down, inside out, and you’d love every second of it. “You will tell me every dream of yours, every fantasy, every little filthy fleeting thought. Then maybe we can do something about it.”
“Maybe?” You were eager, his hand was at your lower stomach but seemingly chose to ignore where you ached most.
“Maybe. If that's something you want.”
“I do, I want everything.”
His eyes jumped to yours; he needed to know if that was a spur-of-the-moment blurted line, or if you meant it. All he found were eager glistening eyes. “Everything?”
“Everything,” you confirmed, eyes staring at him like you were seeing stars.
For a split second, he considered that this could not be what he thought it was. Maybe you were still drunk and just talking big, maybe you had no idea of what you were saying. But the way you didn’t waver, even as he considered pulling the plug on everything despite being a millimeter away from snapping and making his thoughts come true did sway him. He brushed your jaw once so tenderly and you leaned into his touch. He’d take it easy while he discovered you, there was no rush.
“Alright,” he voiced and lowered his hand. “Show me first.”
“Show you what?” You were eager but you were starting to shiver.
“What you do when you think of me.”
“Didn’t you just catch me doing it?”
“You’re going to look at me this time.”
“Look?” You tilted your head slightly.
“Eyes on me,” his eyebrows twitched.
“Only my eyes?”
“And your thoughts.”
You grinned and looked away but his instant grip over your chin made you look up.
“You sure you want everything?”
You huffed with a sly smile and let your head fall back to the wall, “I’m sure.” His dark gaze was skeptical and your grin widened, “Oh, I want everything, sugar. Be sure not to hold back.”
He looked down to follow your movements and you almost laughed. Your hand was rubbing your clit so you could control your pleasure while his eyes roamed your body, the doubt lingering on his features. You could laugh again, but you didn’t. The way he doubted you was funny because he had no idea how crazy you were about him, but then it occurred to you that you also didn’t know the first thing about him. Did he like to watch? Would he guide you or leave you adrift? He had edged you three times already, did he notice? Did he do it on purpose to drive you crazy? 
Would he do it again?
Where exactly was his line? He was quiet now, eating you with his eyes and absorbing every little detail, from the way you breathed to your tongue peeking through your lips, to the way you gathered your arousal to coat your clit. You gasped ever so softly and his eyes instantly jumped to your face, and your lips twitched. You had him. How was it that you had the powerful Min Yoongi?
“What is going on in there?”
His voice was soothing and low, soft as a caress, and you smiled. “You.”
“Me how?”
“You told me to think about you,” your fingers hastened and you grinned.
“I told you I want to know your thoughts.”
You hummed with a smile and eyed him from head to toe shamelessly. You knew what he told you, what he wanted, but what about what you wanted?
Your fingers picked up the pace as your eyes gained a sly glim, and you thought he saw it. If he didn’t, he at least heard the wet sounds echoing in the bathroom.
“Do it slowly.”
You obeyed, so painfully slowly that your eyelashes fluttered, but what truly got you was the soothing of his features. He looked endeared, all because you did as he told you. He looked so sweet, so adorable, so loveable. You wanted to squeeze his precious cheeks.
So you reached forward to touch his face, but he slapped your hand away harshly, “No.” You bit your lip not to smile but his eyes were just hardening. “I’m still waiting.”
“For?”
You couldn’t help your grin as you squirmed ever so slightly against the wall. His precious dark eyes were so focused on you.
“Me how?”
But he wasn’t paying attention. “You right now.”
It didn’t surprise you that he didn’t become impatient, “Just me standing here?”
Your fingers were ever so quicker, “Stiff as a stick trying to control something that isn’t yours yet.”
His eyes glimmed and your tongue peeked out again to hide your laugh. It was fun seeing him being careful, but when would he actually touch you?
“Didn’t I say slower?”
You instantly did, and the recoil of the feeling had you fluttering your eyes closed.
“Eyes on me,” he sounded angrier now, closer too.
You did open your eyes but pursed your lips; there was still half an arm's distance between you. If he wouldn’t get the hint, then you’d have to do it yourself.
“Strip,” you asked, swallowing dryly.
He scoffed and instantly looked down, “I said slow.”
“If you want it slow, do it yourself.”
It happened so fast you couldn’t process it. Like a rubberband snapping, his hand darted to your neck pulling and pushing hard enough that your head banged the wall but not harshly enough that it hurt you. It did daze you for a second, but your lips just formed a grin until you laughed. 
Two could play that game, apparently, and he looked so fucking hot when he was mad. You loved that his hand stayed put like a necklace, a reminder that he wasn’t touching your heat, but he owned it. Along with your thoughts and your pleasure, he owned you. And that would have been enough to snap you, but what about him?
So you closed your eyes again, blatantly going against what he wanted, and were not surprised when his free hand darted to pinch your hardened nipple. You moaned instantly, facing him with the same challenge, meeting dark eyes that seemed to have given up on making you talk, but not on making you do as you were told.
So every time you blinked, he pinched you. Your nipples, your sides, your ass, earning moans every time, but nothing more, until he snapped again. He jumped on you and you just made your neck more available for him to latch on and bite. Your moan instantly pitched, and it finally seemed worth it. He was squeezing your tits and biting you while you played yourself to his presence, and he finally was involved in it too.
“Don’t come.”
The joke was that you wanted to do as he said, but you couldn’t anymore. Your moans were higher now, just like your daze, and in a second—
He yanked your hand away, “That’s enough.”
“Why? Didn’t you want to see what happens when I think of you?”
Your voice was light but your chest heaving gave your state away, and the more he kissed and bit down your neck, the worse it became. You needed him, needed more than just his thoughts or presence. You gripped his shoulders to bring him closer, you needed—
A whimper pushed out of you as you hid in his neck, but he didn’t stop. You were sure that had to be at least three fingers just pushing into you roughly with no preparation other than your repeated edging. No preparation came, whatsoever, because as soon as they were in, he started pumping his fingers in and out of you at a vicious speed. 
You instantly lost your grip on reality, though not on his shoulders, as even the air seemed to still inside your lungs. The sultry sounds echoing around you didn’t just come from his digits beckoning you closer insanely fast, but also from your whimpers. Because there was a fire burning you from the inside out with every moan as he bit and licked closer to your ear. As your nails sank through his shirt to reach his skin, your legs trembled, and the wall behind you became scorching hot while he pressed you to it.
From deep within your frenzy you couldn’t hear his growl near your ear, or feel the way his drool dripped down your neck or his fingers dag at your skin. He could hear you, pitchy moans quickly becoming an addictive sound, yet this time it was different. Your cunt was squeezing around him like a vice, and the harder it made for him to finger fuck you, the more he wanted to.
“Don’t come,” he grunted right under your ear, but you couldn’t register. You just moaned even more desperately, gripping him to you so hard he thought he’d melt. “You’ll cum when I tell you to.”
He was trying to hold on to something when he pulled away to look at you, but he could see you weren’t listening. You were flushed and panting hastily, avid with your nerves on fire. You could only see him and you had been waiting too long.
“Please,” you sounded a second away from breaking into tears and he admired you for it at that moment. You were so strong for him. And so pliable.
So he kissed your cheek gently and said your name once, taking pleasure from rolling it over his tongue. “Go on, cum.”
And it was all you needed to snap, tears coming to your eyes as your hips convulsed and searched for friction. You didn’t think you needed it because your walls were tensing, and again and again while desperate cries fell from your lips. His fingers calmed down inside you, his breath the same temperature as your blazing cheeks, and you thought a sweet blanket of lethargy would cover you soon.
Only he never stopped fucking you with his fingers, and so you whimpered and tried to push him away weakly.
“Don’t come down,” he murmured to your cheek. “Stay, don’t let it go.” 
Your nails sank on his shoulder blades again as you squinted your eyes shut. Tears roamed your eyes as you tried breathing and pushing through your sensitivity. You could handle your clit being sensitive, but inside you, that was a whole different story. You felt like you had been pounded to perfection, only to be further kneaded into sensations you had never felt before.
You looked at him, eyes droopy with whines coming out of your mouth. Why weren’t you surprised?
“Give me another one,” he asked gently, but you didn’t answer. 
How could you, he twisted his hand to reach into you deeper and your whole core burned. He was relighting a fire you thought had been extinguished, only to leave you breathless, dripping slick down his hand as you moaned between gritted teeth. 
So beautiful, so tense. He wanted to release you. 
“Look at me,” he asked softly, and you did. His eyes gave you a tenderness that made your heart convulse. How could he act sweetly like that, as if half of his hand wasn’t pounding your g-spot to bits? “You’re so good. Doing so well, giving me everything I want.” Your only reply was your moans, but you were listening. “I need you to focus for me.” He leaned to whisper in your ear, “Focus on the tension. You’re so tight around my fingers. Relax, don’t fight it. That’s it, move with me,” his voice was sweeter, and you softened. It was as if he was in it with you. As if he could feel it too. As if he was fucking you and not just sticking his fingers inside you. “You feel so good,” his whisper felt like the highest form of praise, and your moan pitched, melting alongside your nerves. He was so happy at the sound as he traced his lips down your cheek to whisper to the corner of your mouth, “Come with me.”
You moved with him once, twice, seeing in his eyes how much he was seeing and feeling you before looking at his lips, so close. He brushed yours ever so slightly in the hint of a kiss, moving with you as if you were jumping on his cock and not on his digits, and it was what pushed you. You pulled him closer and he let his mouth fall to yours, and your orgasm instantly started, forcing you to swerve so you could moan and breathe as you disintegrated. 
He let you feel your ecstasy to the fullest, biting his lip and feeding off of your release as if it were oxygen. Your trembling lips, your nails that marked his shoulders, your throbbing walls squeezing and gripping around him in sweet delight. All of you like a charming melody, sweet and utopic. Your moans were music until the very last, and by then, he had to taste it.
His free hand cupped your cheek and coaxed you into a sloppy kiss that you instantly reacted to. You were still not there, though, too dazed from the high to realize it fully; until you did. And you gasped. Yoongi’s tongue was licking at your bottom lip gently as if you were a delicacy that needed to be tasted slowly, and you couldn’t believe it.
You parted your lips to let him in and he pressed you even closer, enclosing you in such a euphoric moment you thought you’d pop like a firework. Like a cocoon filled with dazed butterflies with nowhere to go. He was kissing you and your wildest dreams seemed to have just come true. Tears were still hanging onto your waterline, and when he pressed your lips to move away and breathe, you were scared that it had all been a dream.
“So good, you’re so good.”
His voice was calm and tender, and it gave you the courage to open your eyes. He was so close with his eyes roaming your features swiftly, taking in the smallest detail as if he was finally free to. Then he smiled at your wonder, and you were convinced it was a dream.
That notion didn’t dissipate as he reached to the side to grab a towel and dry you with gentleness, enveloping you in the fluffy material as if it were a cloud. You sniffled, drained from the energy that you had just burned away and woozy from his sweet pats as he tried to dry the excess water out of your long hair.
Not even when he took your hand and pulled you back into your bedroom did the haze recede. Instead, you saw him pull the duvet open for you to get in the bed and you lost the towel and got in without a thought. Once you settled in, you did have your first thought: where was he going?
But he was back soon, and you knew in the back of your mind that he was just making the place tidy: getting the coffee cup from the floor to put it on the table, stopping the shower, and shutting the lights. Then he grabbed your towel from the floor and dried his own hair with hastened movements before throwing it aside. His eyes fell on you and your own picked up on the wet spots on his clothes. He was probably cold too.
“Come here,” you voiced hoarsely, staying in a ball to conserve the heat. He instantly stepped to you, but you pouted, “Clothes off first.”
He blinked and looked down, but then smirked and did as you asked. Of course, he couldn’t make your bed humid and uncomfortable with his clothes. Your eyes were on him, unable to separate from the soft unblemished skin revealing itself more and more. His muscles moved as he bent down, wide shoulders and soft biceps trying to hide the strength he had. But you just observed quietly, tucked in the duvet. You could still feel his fingers inside and all around you, pressing and owning you easily. But you could keep a secret, his power and strength were only for you to know.
He lowered his pants and boxers and your eyes glued to him like a magnet. He was hard and pretty, with protruding veins on a thick length that had your imagination doing cartwheels.
Your thoughts were interrupted quickly when he opened the duvet to get beside you and you shivered. You opened your arms and legs to welcome him, and in your haze, you suddenly thought that it all felt so domestic.
He grabbed your hand and pulled it away to tell you he wanted to lie behind you and you agreed instantaneously. His arms wrapped around you just as fast as you rubbed your ass to his crotch, and he chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your head.
“You must be tired.”
“No,” your voice was a low whimper as his warmth relaxed your nerve ends.
“No?” He sounded amused and soft and you had to admit that his chest was the fluffiest pillow.
“No…”
You didn't want to, but you were slowly dozing off. Slowly, and a bit more with every soothing breath you took together.
You shook and forced your eyes open, “I don't want to fall asleep.”
“Why?”
Your heart beamed and your lips curved; he was still holding you with his mouth to your head.
“Because… it will end,” you admitted, falling deeper into his touch as he nuzzled your hair. Suddenly you realized his boner was half gone. “You didn't come, I haven't touched you yet. I don't want to miss the opportunity.”
“We have tomorrow.”
“You might change your mind.”
“So can you.”
“I won't,” you insisted with a hint of annoyance as you twisted to look back at him.
“I won't either,” he promised calmly, glistening eyes set on you.
Your eyes were closing, the comfort and lethargy were pulling you away. Still, you focused on his lips, “Kiss me.”
He met your lips with no hesitation and you let that sweet touch soothe you. When he pulled away and kissed your nose, you slipped asleep.
When you woke up in the morning, two things made you alert: your soreness and the lack of space. You groaned with the sweet throb between your legs but frowned because something was over you. Turning back, the most precious image graced your vision and made stars twinkle in your eyes.
Min Yoongi was sleeping as quietly as a mouse with an arm around your shoulders as if to keep you tucked in. You brushed his hair aside and his nose twitched, making you instantly melt. Why did he look so sweet asleep? How could he be such a beast as a musician, a genius producer, and a darling in private?
You kept brushing his hair soothingly, thinking that intimately he was not a darling. No, not cute, not sweet. If that throb between your legs meant something, it was that Yoongi was the kind that owned. He owned his music, his process, the studio room, and you, for all you cared. Your finger trailed his cheek as you recalled your words the night before. He said he wanted you, the same as you, and he said he wouldn't change his mind, but what if he did? What if you lost your opportunity the night before?
Maybe you were still half asleep; otherwise, the fact that you were both in bed naked would have meant something. As it stood, you were anxious about what reality could bring. So when he opened his eyes and saw you, your instinct was to kiss him.
You brushed his lips gently but surely, giving him more than enough time and place to push you away if he wanted to. So when he didn't, you became bolder. Your tongue teased the seam of his lips and your hand roamed his chest, and as you got lost, you became vulnerable. 
He waited as long as he could. He let you kiss him, let you press, let you push him a bit back into the pillow, let you cup his jaw, but you never moved away. Never stopped, and never changed your mind. You did say you wanted everything, and he thought he had given you enough time to take it back.
So he grabbed your hair and rolled over you to get on top, pushing his tongue past your lips without asking. And you moaned, instantly weak to him taking something that in all that concerned you belonged to him anyway.
You thought that meant a green light to explore him just as he was doing, passing his hand down your side to your waist, but no. You palmed the expanse of his chest and he interrupted his mission simply to grab your wrists and pull them down. He pressed them once to the mattress, then released one to pass his slender fingers between your breasts and you took the opportunity again. Your hand sneakily went under the sheets to scratch his hip up to his ass, feeling how firm he was over you, yet he caught you before you could squeeze him.
“Stay still.”
He could have been saying good morning, yet you puffed, “Let me.”
“No.”
“But I want to,” you pouted and he nibbled down your neck.
“Too bad.”
You wanted to be good to him; you liked him touching you and his hard cock ever so close to your core did make you hazy with want. But as he kissed and licked and palmed and pressed you from head to toe, you grew impatient. Incredibly so when he turned you belly down to do the same down the length of your spine as if he had all the time in the world. Even more when he raised your ass and spread your legs, nibbling at your ass cheeks and squeezing them roughly. Aggravatingly so when he noticed your wetness dripping down your inner thigh and made it his pastime to try to reach it with his tongue.
“Yoongiiiiii,” you whined at the end of your patience, waves of goosebumps driving you insane as he spread your asscheeks more to reach your wet inner thighs.
“Hmm,” he was having way too much fun.
“Let me touch you too.”
And ruin the fun? “No.”
You whined again, “But I've waited.”
“Not enough.”
“Why not?” You were sulking despite your spasms around nothing. He could feel them without directly touching you, and it drove him to bite and kiss harder. You squirmed at his lack of reply, “How long more?”
“Until I say so.”
You shook your ass half in annoyance half in desperation, “I've waited enough. At least fuck me.”
“No.”
It was as though he was shooing a fly.
“Come on,” you dragged. “Get to the good part.” He snorted but didn't move. “Fuck me, come on.”
“No.”
“But you'll feel so good.”
He sighed with your taste on his tongue, “I know.”
“So do it.”
“Hmmmm.”
You thought there would be progress as he touched your core ever so lightly. But you waited and waited for what felt like an eternity. And although the tip of his fingers explored every nook and cranny slowly and gently, even the embarrassing ones, you were still not closer to what you wanted.
And so you snapped, “I asked you to fuck me.” He hummed, but your tone was assertive, “I won't shut up until you do.”
He changed absolutely nothing, wet fingers dragging to your nipples lightly.  And so you insisted.
“I'm waiting. How long will you keep me waiting? Should I do it myself?”
Your hand moved and he put it in place instantly.
“I can show you how it's done,” your tone became mocking. “In case you’re lost.” His teeth brushed the back of your thigh and you smirked, “If you never used your cock before—”
A slap to your asscheek echoed and you grinned. It was firm, a warning, but what could you do? You always liked to talk big in bed, and you couldn’t miss the opportunity to rile him up.
“Nothing to be ashamed of— If you don't know where to go or what to do— Should I take over?”
Every slap felt like a win and that last one wasn't any different. He gave more of him when he did it, and you felt it in the sting, the touch, the attention. When he grabbed your asscheeks and squeezed until you cried out, you thought that he might be holding back.
“You talk too much,” he said quietly.
“And you fuck too little.”
He pushed you harshly to fall with your belly up and grabbed your head firmly in place, using his body over you to fully press you down the mattress.
“I like to fuck people who indulge me.”
“Liar.” It escaped your lips before you could think. You were too horny to think, but then you laughed, “Fucking liar. You're rock hard, you want to fuck me so bad is not even funny.”
“Your point?”
“You like it,” you whispered, raising your head to reach his lips, which he didn't let happen. You looked into his eyes, “You like my talking. You adore every spank and every little reason I give you to do it.”
His expression didn't change except for the laughter in his eyes, “Can you blame me?”
“Fuck no.”
“Is it a problem?” He seemed cautious. 
“Yoongi,” you sighed. “I said everything.”
His lips finally showed a smile as he got on his forearms to look at you with new eyes.
“But Yoongi,” you called with a pout. “I did wait long enough.”
He grinned widely, so endearingly you wanted to kiss his entire adorable face. So loveable you wanted to drive him crazy.
“You wait until I tell you to.”
He seemed happy now as he leaned to kiss and play with your chest, pink tongue messing with your perky nipples to the point you squirmed. And it felt good, so good your legs were restless under him, opening but struggling to get him to align. He tortured your nipples, suckling and biting only to smile at your fussiness. You could only take so much.
You squealed, “If you don’t put your cock in me soon I’ll fucking scream.”
“Scream?” He was amused, barely separating his mouth from your breast.
But you sucked in a breath and screamed at the top of your lungs. Only for a second though; his hand covered your mouth and forced you to look at him.
“Shut it.”
He raised his hand carefully with your eyes locked, and all you did was roll your hips to get his cock near your dripping core. You thought he had learned something, so when he moved too but against you, keeping what you wanted purposefully at bay, you decided that holding back was not getting you anywhere.
You threw your head back and screamed again, and when his hand darted to muffle it, you bit it.
You took another breath, but before you could scream his hand wrapped around your neck firmly. You looked into his eyes as lightheadedness relaxed your neck and shoulders. He was so careful, but you were at such ease.
“Are you going to be quiet?”
His fingers were perfect around your throat, “I want to cream your cock so bad.”
Your voice was a wanton whine as your glistening eyes focused on him. You couldn't describe how much you were melting, how much he relaxed you only to tense you up the next second if he so chose to. How much that drove you to want him like crazy.
“Is that a dirty thought?” You nodded once, pleading with your eyes. He nuzzled your nose sweetly, “Not yet.”
“Then I won't be quiet.”
Your voice was gentle like a breeze but carried consequence, and when he nuzzled you further, you knew everything went both ways. He knew it too, and he wasn't stopping you.
You tentatively tried a scream and his hand wrapped firmer, observing you with sparkles in his eyes.
You huffed, cheeks becoming hot, “Why won’t you just do what I want?”
“Why won’t you quiet down?”
“And do your job for you?” 
You could see the smile in his eyes — he knew you were embarrassed. He was just seeing how far you’d go in your brattiness, but you were so horny you were lost. 
“All I’m asking for is your cock, don’t you have one?” He raised an eyebrow at your taunt; you could both feel his hard shaft pressed to your thigh. “So why don’t you shut me up? Do you need me to tell you how to use your dick?”
“Just because you’re needy and desperate, it doesn’t mean you should get what you want.”
The burn traveled to your chest; he was scolding you and it was like you’d been shaken. Of course, he’d answer you and deal with your attitude. You never thought he’d be the type to let it fly but to actually have him doing it was burning you from the inside out.
“But what I want is you,” you sighed, batting your eyelashes flagrantly. “Let me get on my knees, I’ll do whatever you like.”
He took only a second, “No, I like where you are.” You grinned in absolute joy; you also loved being under him with his hand around your neck. You felt taken care of and grounded, even as your mind became chaotic in the hazyness. “And there goes another dirty thought, hm?”
You bit your lip, “In my fantasies you always give it to me so right.”
“This isn’t a fantasy anymore.”
You grinned, “No, thank fuck. You look so much better pissed off in real life.”
He raised an eyebrow, “You want to piss me off?”
You almost laughed, “I want you to fuck me.”
“I never said I wouldn't,” he adjusted his hips but purposefully made it impossible for you to have him, and you squinted. He was smiling, “I just told you to wait.”
“And I told you I’d scream.”
You were snappy and he grinned, “Can’t we be civilized about this?”
His lips ghosted you and your chest burned again, “Nothing civilized about the way I want you to fuck me senseless.”
Your voice was wanton, bordering a moan as your hips rolled just to feel the tease of his cock near your core, and he kissed down your chin, “So you’ll scream?”
“Like hell.”
“No changing your mind?”
“Fuck no. Stop stalling,” you whined, moving your spread legs in the hopes of catching him, but he only chuckled.
“Go on, then.”
He got off you and you huffed in annoyance and screamed. It was short and you opened your eyes to see him just observing you with amusement. Why was it so funny to him when you were getting upset?
So you took a deep breath and screamed again and this time your lips pulled in a smile because what the heck were you doing?
“That’s it?”
His taunt had you take a deep breath and scream again, only to fall short. You covered your eyes and stifled a laugh. It reminded you of how you screamed on roller coasters.
“You must not have enough reasons to scream yet.”
You bit your lip, imagining the reasons you could have, the ways he could make you scream. The bed dipped next to you but you stayed in your reverie. In it, Yoongi touched you. He slapped your cunt with his cock and promised to use you. He grabbed you by the neck while he pounded into you so hard you saw stars.
You huffed in impatience, neediness making you bold; you were about to sit up and do something when you stopped. He was throwing his leg over you and his cock was so close your eyes nearly crossed. He grabbed your head in place, but you were staring, fixed, jaw falling open and lax instantly. You could pretend you wanted to scream more but you were just salivating, so when he aimed his cock at you, you just met him halfway.
His taste hit your buds quickly and moved to reach your throat, and you lost it. Your eyes rolled as you closed them, the salty traces leaving you dizzy, and the way he pushed himself down your throat made you squirm in waves of pleasure. It felt hot and intense and wild as he did it again and again, each time getting a better sense of how much you could take. You barely cared about breathing; he was finally using your mouth, fucking you, showing you how much he wanted you without holding back, and with each push, he made you feel better than the last. Elated, special — he was groaning and getting riled up down your throat because you made him feel that good.
Suddenly, he pulled back and you followed him as long as you could before he grabbed your arms and raised them above your head to stop you. He had heard you choke so he was probably worried, but you only sighed in impatience.
“So greedy,” he taunted, pressing your wrists down firmly. But he had a glint in his eyes — he was paying attention to you. Not worried, just caring.
“Aren’t you learning?” You said as you tried not to melt, but it was too late. He chuckled and his smile made you happy. “Keep going,” you asked softly, despite the tears running down to your hairline. “Please.”
He brushed his thumbs on your wrists for a second with his eyes set on you. You were such a handful and he couldn’t love it any better. Asking for him like that secretly drove him crazy, and made him want to give you everything you could ever wish for, no matter what. So when you leaned back and opened your mouth, it was his pleasure to stuff it with his dick. He grabbed your wrists more firmly and supported his weight on them to help him lean forward and give you the fucking you craved.
Time and time again he snapped his hips to get his cock down your throat, and it was challenging. His muscles were burning, but so were his lower stomach and balls as he tried not to come. You moaned and choked and bounced as he fucked your head into the mattress, and yet you were totally relaxed. Your arms and hands were still, calm as you got used and loved it. And he loved it too, but for your first time together and after skipping it the night before, he thought this time he wanted more.
He pulled away from you and it took you a second, but you instantly sulked. He settled between your legs as you cleaned the drool, “So I’m not going to swallow the sugar rush?”
He chuckled, “No, not this time.” You pursed your lips and were about to whine about him stopping so soon when he asked, “Do you have a condom?”
Your eyes widened and you instantly scrammed to conjure up one. Shit, shit shit, you thought as you turned your room upside down, then your toiletries, then your bathroom. Why the fuck didn’t you have one? Well, sure, you knew why, but you were so angry now. You could not miss this opportunity!
You turned to your kitchen, desperate at that point until you gasped. You searched for your first aid box and dug until you finally found a lost wrapper. You waved it victoriously as you strode back to your room and to bed, and Yoongi was there to receive you with a look you couldn’t identify. He grabbed your arm and threw you on the bed before pinning you down from between your legs and kissing you till you lost your breath.
If he wanted to fuck you before, now he wanted to screw you so hard you’d only ever remember his cock. To think you said you wanted to be with him the whole last year, and that you hadn’t been with anyone else because of it made him wild. Why had you both played it so safe? He had been to your apartment so many times, set you to sleep on that very same bed, and yet never once did he get the inkling that you wanted him. Not as he wanted you. But just now, you were dripping with how much you wanted him, squirming, begging for him to fuck you, and trying to rile him up so he would. You jolted at his fingers in your folds, rubbing your chest to his for any hint of a touch, moaning when he pulled your head back by your hair. You wanted him bad and he was going to give it to you.
He pulled away from you and you almost screamed in frustration, but seeing him putting the condom on cooled you just enough to stay quiet. Your hands even stayed above your head voluntarily as you waited patiently, thinking he wouldn’t waste that condom, he’d surely fuck you finally.
You moaned suddenly and looked down, confused for a second, but you weren’t dreaming. He was grabbing his cock and slapping your cunt with it right over your clit. You squirmed with need, but he kept doing it harder and harder, wet sounds echoing with your excitement.
“Fuck, I just knew it,” you mumbled, clenching around nothing right before his eyes.
“Knew what?”
“That you’d do that,” you moaned, hands tightly gripping each other so you would stay put.
He hummed as he did it quicker, seeing your slick connect to his cock, “That so? What else do you think I’ll do?”
You were burning all the way to your shoulders, trying to move with him so that his cock could give you friction, and he didn’t stop you. So you answered through gritted teeth, “Stick it in, get deep, fucking use me until I’m stuffed with your cum.”
Your voice disappeared with the lack of breath; he was dragging his cock over your clit now and it was the sweetest reward. 
“Filthy thoughts you’re having, hmm?” You were lost in your motion, rolling your hips to earn that friction so you gasped when he pushed his cock inside you, loving the burn as your core split to accommodate his girth. “Read my fucking mind.”
You screamed when he bottomed out, biting your lip with the way he was forcing himself inside you. Then you opened your eyes to see him and instantly clenched around him, and he smirked. 
“Been thinking about fucking me, huh?” You could barely hold a thought, but the opportunity to tease him was too sweet.
“It has crossed my mind,” he said and snapped his hips, and you didn’t know whether to gasp or moan. He’d hit you deep and hard, you knew he would, and it made you even tighter. His nails dag at your hips, “So many times.” He was starting slow but deep and you could do nothing but moan. “How you would moan, what you would want, how you would give in and let me take you,” every wish was pointed by a deep thrust. “Now look at you.” You looked down: your tits were bouncing with every hit, gushing sounds echoed along with your moans from how wet your heat was, and the sight of his thick cock pushing between your slit to enter you was the cherry on top. It was the can of cream about to blow you full, and you wanted to get filled. “Almost cuming even though I’ve barely started.”
“Cause you feel so good,” you breathed in a moan.
He leaned to grope your taunting tits, “You told me to use you.”
“Fuck, please.”
He gritted his teeth and adjusted you better so he could pick up the pace. And what a vicious pace it was, fast and steady, leaving you so hazed and lost, that you had no words. He slapped your tits around and you clenched, tears roaming your eyes with how good and sweet it was. It didn’t hurt, every touch sparkled pleasure in your veins, and the sight of him hitting and scratching, his squeezes on every bit of you only made you even more sensitive. More elated and euphoric, so much so you were mumbling more with every moan involuntarily. He was slapping and roughly marking your chest as you asked, and suddenly you threw your head back and looked at him.
“Harder,” you asked out of breath, and he slapped your tit so hard you screamed before moaning deeply. “Just not my face.”
You thought to tell him from within a glimpse of logic, and he nodded and took note of your limit. Instead, he leaned forward and groped both boobs again and you squirmed desperately.
“Squeeze,” you breathed, your moan pitching. He did, but it wasn’t enough, “Please!”
He did, a bit harder with every thrust into your messy cunt. It was maybe selfish, but he wanted to see how you unraveled. How you wanted those strong sensations, how you craved something more intense each time and with every bit of strength, you transformed it into a beautiful pleasure that had you bursting.
He saw you coming again, writhing around thoughtlessly with the intensity of your pleasure, so hard he didn’t have to look down to see you throbbing around his cock. He still did though, mesmerized by it, only to chuckle. You had left a ring of white around the base of his cock; you just had to have your way in the end.
He leaned in to kiss you through your haze, slowly sensing with his lips the condition you were in. At first, your reaction was delayed, the brush of your lips falling behind as you recovered. But then you reacted and pushed back against his tongue, and he knew you were good.
He pulled back and turned you around, and you helped and got on all fours instantly. He didn’t wait, he aimed his cock at you and entered your velvety embrace as soon as he could. You arched your back for him and pressed back into him a couple of times to feel him deeper, and he grinned.
“Finally. So obedient,” he taunted, squeezing your ass cheeks to spread for him.
“You’re finally fucking me senseless.”
Your voice was a whisper, and he smirked. You asked him to use you, and he was doing a good job at it. But now he wanted to make you scream, to mark you so hard you’d never be anything but his. He couldn’t help it; now that his cock was shoved deep inside you, he didn’t want anything else. Now that he knew what you tasted like, what you sounded like, and how filthy your mind and mouth could be, he wanted nothing else. He saw you trying to get him deeper, huffing and puffing as you swayed with him, and his chest tightened. The possessiveness you were inspiring in him was raw and dangerous, but he didn’t want to fight it.
So he gave you both what you wanted: he smacked your ass as he pounded into you, seeing the way it bounced in either direction until he couldn’t focus anymore. Until he was desperate to own you, to hear you scream, to know you’d beg for him forever. It wasn’t enough; no matter how hard you screamed, he wanted more and he wanted it to last. 
Grabbing your hair to pull it into showing the beautiful curve of your neck was a mistake, though. Suddenly he saw how beautiful you were, vulnerable and immersed in every sensation he gave to you. He wanted you to be his, and suddenly it hit him that you already were. And you loved it.
And it snapped his senses, overthrowing his strong grip on his pleasure as if he had never had any. He became sloppy but still held on to your hips to sink and cum as deeply inside you as he possibly could. He groaned with every peak, jerking to milk the sensation between your tight walls as best as he could until he stilled. Fuck, how the hell did you do that to him?
He noticed then you were trembling and his priorities immediately surfaced, “Are you okay?”
You hummed, but he wasn’t having it. He pulled out despite your whine and helped you to softly lay on your side. Then he hopped off the bed, dealt with the condom, and searched around for water and a snack.
You were still stunned, out from the intensity of the emotions that had tensed and relaxed your body simultaneously. Your soul didn’t know how to handle what just happened, and the only thing that occurred to you before he came back was that you had totally surrendered. You didn’t force yourself to be tame and quiet, or said and did what the other person wanted so you wouldn’t ruin it for them. You were yourself, through and through, and Yoongi fucking ate you up like dessert.
The bed dipped behind you and you turned to him, sighing happily when he pulled you in to snuggle.
“Here — water and chocolate.”
You glanced at the bottle and bar and smiled widely. Your heart was right all along, and although you knew it was definitely too soon, there were special words at the tip of your tongue trying to get out.
Instead, you let him insist and sit you up to take a sip of water and a bite before letting you fall back into his arms in a sweaty embrace that you wanted with all your heart.
He was kissing your head and tracing your arm quietly when you decided to tell him, “Next time cover me with cum.”
He raised an eyebrow as he glanced at you, and you pouted.
“Just… You wanted to know what I think about.”
“You think about that?”
“Sometimes.”
He smirked and squeezed you inside his arms, “What else have you been hiding from me?”
“You have no idea,” you laughed.
You were melting and relaxing into his touch as he pecked your head when he whispered, “Are we bad?”
Your heart hurt for a second, what? But then you realized what he was saying: your song. When you wrote a conversation you once imagined you both could have had:
You're bad, you liar. 
It's me who's bad, I know this bad desire, sugar.
So you chuckled and sang along to the melody, “What did you do to me, sugar?”
2K notes · View notes
hanaonesflower · 1 year
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“Princess, can I ask you something?” He speaks, breaking the silence of the long, uneventful car ride. “Sure, anything!” You chirp, unsuspecting of what is to come.
“Why don’t you ever let me do anything for you?” Ushijima says, his eyes remain fixated on the long stretch of roads ahead. The fog heavily roll down the sides the hills on your either sides, lowering visibility. His hand tightens around the wheel, while the other grips yours.
“What do you mean by that?” You sit back, eyes wandering his features, looking for any sign that he’s just cheerfully asking you. Knowing Ushi though, he’s sometimes not as light hearted as you’d think.
“You are always so insistent on doing everything yourself. You won’t let me help you, like earlier, when you refused to let me tie your shoes. That isn’t the first time you refused my help.” He goes on a spiel, his thumb reaches to the toggle and lowers the volume, making his breathing more prominent than ever. It has occur to you that you have always been doing everything by yourself despite his looming figure always by your side. The hyperindependence is slowly starting to bother him. He wants to help you, wants to give you the fullest extent of a princess treatment yet the only thing really holding him back from that is, you.
“It’s just something that I could easily have done for myself, you didn’t need to bother with that, don’t worry, baby,” you try to comfort him, hoping some words of affirmation can help. It really isn’t a big deal, it’s some shoe laces that came undone, not a heavy errand.
As soon as the car is pulled into a parking spot at a rest stop, quickly shifting the car in “park”, turning to you and he sighs. A real sigh. One so full of frustration and… hopelessness. “I’m not bothered. It has never mattered how big or small anything is, I want to do everything for you. Why are you holding yourself back from me?” He is starting to put things into perspective for you. After going through a useless ex-boyfriend, then a man who gave you hot and cold attention, lastly a guy who gave you princess treatment to fill his inflated ego before meeting Ushijima, learning to only rely on yourself has been the protector of your heart, your soul and your sanity. You find that by depending on your good ol’ self is the only way to prevent yourself from throwing your body off a bridge.
“Ushi, it’s not—,” before you can finish your sentence, truthfully you don’t really know what to say. He’s right, you are holding yourself back from him. Holding yourself back from the hurt that you’ve known all too well, he interrupts, holding both your hands in his, “baby, you’re my priority, my everything, your well-being, happiness and comfort are my main concerns and I want it to be that way,” he stops, taking a breath. Reminiscent of the times where Ushijima offered to go so out of his way to help you but being kindly turned down has left him feeling absolutely useless and uneasy. Ushijima’s love language is act of service and because he hasn’t been able to do the bare minimum for you, he feels it eating him alive.
“I am aware of your past, I know that I can’t change what was, but I’m here to make a difference now, I mean it!” You are moved by his words, he means what he says and you know it. You’ve seen it. He’s a big man of his words, always keeping promises, has never ever disappointed you in any way. Yet the walls have been reinforced many times again that it has cemented itself in your life, creating a barrier between the two of you. “I want to open doors for you, pull out chairs for you, pick you up from a friend’s house, drop you off at the airport, all of that, please, baby, please just let me.” You have to say, it is like he is begging for you to allow him in, allow him to integrate further into your system, a system you’ve built to keep you from going down a slippery slope time and time again.
“I’m so grateful for you, Ushi, you’ve done so much for me, you really have. I just feel like I can’t be asking for anymore than what you’ve already given me,” before you can inhale a full breath, he branches his body over to your side of the car and kisses you deeply, so deeply that you melt. “I’m at your disposal, you are my world, let me in, don’t keep shutting me out,” he says, breaking away from the kiss.
You chuckle, “yes, Wakatoshi, I accept your offer,” and you’ve never seen him smile wider. A big, toothy grin coming from the infamously stoic dude. He kisses you again, “thank you, baby.”
He unbuckles your seatbelt, hastily running from his side to yours and opening the door for you, and just like the universe is rooting for the both of you, your shoe laces come undone, again.
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