#but those shoulder spikes just make him look so small
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Dirty Work 53
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.
Characters: Loki
Note: I always come back to Loki.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
You walk in circles. The day is long but it’s not over. You can’t let it end. Not without having your peace. You won’t make it through another night like the ones before.
The house is eerily calm, even with your house guests. Frigga and Odin are a useful buffer for their son but you can’t run away forever. Or at all.
You refuse to enter the bedroom, paranoid at being locked in again. So you pace the library, trying to dictate a script in your head. You haven’t found the words, you can barely wrangle in your thoughts. All you know is it has to be said. Especially after today.
You hear footsteps in the hall and stop. You listen as Loki goes into the bedroom then comes back out. You go to the door and open it, peering over as he strides out in a panic. You poke your head around and he sees you, giving a start then a sigh.
“There you are, pet,” he touches his chest, “are you coming to bed? It is late. I’m sure my mother has tired you out.”
You shake your head. He tilts his head and furrows his brow. You back up, leaving the door open, and wait. He hesitates but approaches soon after. He stands in the doorway and stares at you. You curl your fingers then stretch them out, shaking your hands as the tension aches in your knuckles.
“What is it?” He sounds just as afraid as before.
You beckon him inside with a small wave. He frowns but obeys, pulling the door shut behind him. You bring your fingers up and twiddle them against your cheeks. It reminds you of another time, when you would stand at the end of the couch, just out of your father’s grasp, and ask him to take his medicine. You were just as frightened then though for a much different consequence.
“You’ve something to say to me,” he states and his shoulders rise, “well, yes, I’m aware a proposal without a ring is hardly proper, but I thought perhaps, pet, we might choose it together. Hm?”
You shake your head and blink, “no.”
“No?” He says, “you don’t want a ring? Or you’d rather shop alone? I suppose I could--”
“No. That’s what I have to say; no.”
You stare at him, locked in anxiety, waiting for his reaction.
“No... what?” He puts his palms out.
“No.”
“No... no.... No?” He echoes over and over, the word starting to sound nonsensical.
“We can’t be married.”
“What?” His voice spikes, “but darling, you said... yes.”
You didn’t.
“No.”
“Yes,” he counters quickly. “Yes, I’ve already told mother we are to marry and you can’t just say... no?”
“No. Not until we talk.”
“We are talking, pet--”
“About Thor--”
“Darling,” he blusters, “we do not need to—we both know what happened. I put a stop to it and it’s all just fine now, isn’t it?”
“No.”
“Stop saying that.”
“No.”
“Stop-- okay, darling, what can I do? To make this all better?”
“I want to talk about it,” you insist, your heart flipping.
“About what? What is there to say?”
You lower your head and shrug, then look at him again.
“I don’t know... but... you... brought me there. You knew about him, didn’t you? You had to--”
“I know he and Sif...” he stops, nearly choking as his throat bobs. “That he had some liaison with my ex-wife, yes. I knew that.” He grits his teeth and turns to pace himself, “and she was there so why wasn’t he distracted by her? What must he try to take what is mine?”
“Yours?” You wonder.
He puffs through his nose and stops, twisting on his heel to face you, “my guest. My...plus one.” He lies poorly and his eyes list to one side, “pet, he did not hurt you, I made sure of it--”
“He did,” you insist. “He did hurt me. He held me down and... maybe he didn’t do all he could but it still hurt. It still scared me and then you locked me up. You won’t talk to me and you keep me in a closet. Well, Loki, Mr. Laufeyson, whatever I should call you, I’d rather go back to my father then stay any longer if you won’t.”
You're breathless after the deluge flows from you, feeling a little beter for letting it all out. A little braver.
“Don’t,” he points at you, “do not threaten me. Why would you ever go back to that monster? After all I’ve done--”
“I know all you’ve done. Trust me,” you swallow, “and I know what I’ve done and not done. All I have and don’t have. If I am just a burden for you to pick up, I would rather you toss me away now.”
“Toss you—darling, I’ve only just said I would marry you. I think you are confused.”
“I am,” you say, more terse than you mean to, “because you don’t talk to me.”
He takes a breath and lets it out, his lips thinning. He looks at his feet and his shoulders slump. He crosses his arms and raises his head, “I’m talking right now.”
You poke your tongue into your cheek and consider him, “he hurt you too.”
His eyes flick up to the ceiling and he shrugs.
“I saw it.”
“Yes, he is an animal. But I gave him back all the same,” he says defiantly.
You calmly come forward, jittery as you recall that night. The darkness, the scent of dirt, the twigs poking through your dress, and your whimpers. You stop right before him and bring your hands together in front of you.
“Loki,” you say, “thank you.”
He winces, almost as if he’s been struck again, just like that night he fended off his brother.
“You did save me and I know you didn’t have to. But you also don’t need to lock me up.”
He has the guile to look shameful. He moves his head one way then the other, the lines around his mouth deepening, “yes, I suppose...”
“I’ll stay, okay? But... not like that.”
“Alright,” he agrees rigidly, “I won’t keep you in the bedroom.”
“Or this house--”
“What-- where are you going to go?” He sputters as his green eyes gleam at you.
You inhale carefully and put your hands to his chest. He looks down at them and back to your face, “nowhere unless you mean to keep me a prisoner.”
“You said it yourself though, I protected you--”
“Thor is gone.”
“For now,” he glowers.
You huff and close your eyes. Your drag your hands from his chest and he catches them. Before you can draw away, he pulls you back to him.
“Darling, yes, alright. I hear you. I’ve heard all you have to say. Let us put that night behind us. Please.”
You consider him. It’s a tenuous truce, one you don’t entirely trust, but it’s better than before. It’s as much as you can hope for. He is right after all. You have nothing without him. Even the threat of going back to your father is empty.
“Just... say yes for me. Once,” he pleads. You stare up at him blankly. He fidgets and his cheek dimples, “just once. I need to hear yes. So...”
You watch him as his nostrils flare and his hands tighten around yours.
“Yes, let’s put it away,” you agree, “but I won’t forget.”
He nods and his mouth slants, “mm, when did you get so demanding?”
“I’m... not?” You’re stunned by the accusation. “I wouldn’t--”
“For you, yes, you are. Look at you, yanking me on a chain like a dog,” he winks and smirks, slipping his hands down your arms and embracing you, his grip settling on your hips, “I sort of like it.”
“Um, oh,” you bobble with his change in tone, the wrenching in your chest slowly subsiding.
You expected more than that. Maybe yelling, maybe broken things, and all that. There was a time this man brought you into this very room with a leather strap and made his will known. The memory seems far away now.
“Isn’t it nice to say yes?” He coos.
“I... don’t know.”
“Ask me anything and I will say yes,” his focus centers on your lips.
“I... I’m alright,” you smile tremulously. “I’m tired.”
“Yes, darling, I would be ever so happy to carry you to bed,” he is quick as he has you off your feet before you can unravel his words. “As any good fiance might.”
You brace yourself with a palm on his chest as he cradles you in his arms. His strength always surprises you. He carries you effortlessly and turns to the door, crossing briskly and dipping as he angles you toward it.
“If you would, pet, I seem to have my hands full,” he purrs.
You reach and open the door, upended by how it’s all unfolded. What you dreaded didn’t come. There was no explosion, no shrapnel to pick out, no debris. It’s not over but it’s better than it was. No tears, no shouting, no bruises.
He carries you into the hall and through the bedroom door. He kicks the door shut and marches to the bed. He tosses you onto the mattress and you land with a yelp. You have not time to gain your bearings before he’s on you.
“Darling, you had your moment,” he straddles you and grabs onto your wrists, pinning them beside your head, “I will not hear another no from those lips. Not this night.”
You writhe under him, your insides fluttering as he bends over you, his hot breath cascading over you. As tired as you are, a thrill courses through you. The promise of a release is tempting. All that tension coiled inside you has you bound up in knots.
He leans in and presses his lips to yours. He crushes you under his weight, the mattress compressing beneath you. He is suffocating as he pokes his tongue inside your mouth, humming in delight as he invades. He wiggles his hips against your pelvis and your ribs ache as your breath catches inside.
It isn’t him, it’s someone else, someone bigger. Thor. He’s groping and grabbing at you, laughing at your helpless struggle. You flail beneath him and tears prick.
Your eyes snap open and you nearly bite him. You turn your head away, gasping as you’re caught in a memory. You let out a desperate cry.
“Please, please,” you beg, “I can’t. I can’t...” you gulp and shake your head fervently. “I can’t breathe...”
He relents and sits up, his hair askew as he puffs out. His forehead is lined with worry and his eyes glimmering with shock. He lets go of your wrists and grasps his thighs instead. He stares down at you grimly and carefully climbs off.
“It’s him...” he sits at the foot of the bed with his back to you.
“I’m sorry,” you murmur, “I didn’t... I don’t want to think of him but...”
“Sleep, pet, you’ve earned it,” he slouches forward and drops his head into his hands. “And I’ve earned all I get in turn.”
You stare at his back. You’re relieved and yet you feel horrible. As much as you want to move on, it’s latched onto you; that fear and that futility. You don’t know that this man or the life ahead of you will ever free you from it.
Loki may have saved you from his brother, but you don’t think he can save you from yourself. You have always, always will be, another burden to bear.
✨
After some time, Loki lays down beside you. Your night is no less restless than the ones before. While you may have said more than you ever thought you could, there’s still so much trapped inside of you. Feelings you don’t really understand.
His snoring calms you enough for your eyes to glaze over in bouts. Between, his warmth enshrines you like the blaze of a furnace and finally grows stolid. You get up, surrendering to your consciousness, and go into the bathroom.
You leave the door open as you fill the tub. You step into the placid water and sink to your shoulders. You lean back, muscles easing as you try to wash away the stain you can’t see. You languish there, letting your eyes roll back as the early din settles over you.
You jerk as suddenly you feel a brush along your hair. You look up as Loki stands above you. You cross your arms over yourself out of instinct and his lips twitch. He doesn’t say a word as he undresses.
You’re silent as he urges you forward and slides in behind you, pulling you over him. He reclines with you in his arms and you feel his heart against your back. You stare at the ceiling as your head rests on his shoulder.
“Mrs. Laufeyson,” he muses, “I like the sound of that better this time.”
You bat your lashes and crane your head awkwardly, trying to see him, “is that... what I’ll be called?”
“Darling, of course,” he chuckles, “what else?”
“Hm,” you chew on the words then mouth them silently; ‘Mrs. Laufeyson’. It sounds... strange.”
“Well I’m afraid it’s the only name I have, pet.”
“It sounds... old.”
“Old?” He utters, “you are an adult, are you not? Thirty-one years on this planet isn’t very much yet enough.”
“Sure, I guess,” you mull, soothed as he brushes his fingertips up and down your stomach.
“Wait...” he drawls thoughtfully, “does Mr. Laufeyson sound old?”
“Well... it suits you better than me.”
“Are you saying I’m old?”
“No, I--” you bite down and your brows nearly meet your hairline, “how old are you?”
“Mmph,” he scoffs, “hardly matters.”
“Shouldn't I know? If we’re too get married.”
“Not much older than you,” he sighs.
“But you are older.”
“Is this important?” He intones.
“I just never thought of it.”
“So don’t,” he says.
“Why not?”
“My, my, aren’t you petulant?” He pinches your side and you yipe, “pet, I almost miss the quiet little thing flitting through my halls...” he flutters his fingers, tickling you until you bubble out a giggle and catch in your hand. “Almost.”
#loki#dark loki#simp loki#that last tag can't be avoided#dark!loki#loki x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#dirty work#series#maid au#au#mcu#marvel#thor#avengers
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Did anyone else find Earth 42!Miles stinkin’ adorable?
The Prowler suit is really cool, but it also makes him look like an oversized kitten IMO, and the braids suit him so well and frame his face in a way that just intensifies the cute, soaked little kitten with paws too big for their body sort of look in my eyes.
It makes it so even though objectively he’s probably just as dangerous as the original Prowler in Miles’s universe and would hate it so much, I can’t help but want to pick him up and hold him like a dangling cat, lmao.
#miles morales#earth 42#earth 42 miles morales#the prowler#across the spider verse#across the spider verse spoilers#atsv#atsv spoilers#to be clear!#he was also very cool and threatening#but those shoulder spikes just make him look so small#and his gauntlets are so big#its actually a little sad!#because y’know#hes’ just a kid#and here he is as a mercenary for hire killing people probably#but the sadness sort of comes from the cute little kitten part
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౨ৎ — fluff ending to this. wc ? 1k.
“…oru…satoru.”
an eye opened. then two. white lashes fluttered around hazy blue irises as the sorcerer began to come to his senses, adjusting the sunglasses that had slid down his nose with a small, ‘hm?’
at the sound of your voice, gojo’s eyes slid around to take in the scenery. but he could’ve sworn you just… wasn't he back at jujutsu high a minute ago? in the infirmary? but instead, the teenager found himself sitting on a bench, his body sheathed in dancing blue artificial light and the passing shadows of ocean creatures behind glass.
the aquarium, he realized, his heart rate spiking. it wasn’t real.
“y/n,” he mumbled slowly, a lazy grin on his face, and never before had gojo been so happy to say your name to you.
“that’s me,” and the full, clear sight of you brings immediate relief — a painkiller for the heartache he’d just endured in his sleep. it was still rattling to him, after all this time, how realistic his nightmares were. he swore he saw the blood soak the pure, ivory sheet that covered you, the paling of your dying skin, the emptiness where your gorgeous, beating heart should’ve been. felt his own heart rip nerve by nerve and his stomach clench into an ugly knot as yaga told him you were “killed in action”: finite, just like that. you were gone.
he’d never been so glad to be awake, to be here, in front of some stupid fish tank, with you. he took in your face as you talk, a worried crease in your brow when you see your reflection in his blue eyes, now glassy. transparent and red-rimmed. vulnerable, if you looked close enough.
“you, um… fell asleep on my shoulder,” you spoke when he didn’t. “you okay? been getting enough sleep?”
oh. that was another thing i loved, he remembered, and it was like his body knew you the way his heart did, as his smile stretched into a pair of dimples. your stupidly big heart.
“…yeah. don’t worry your pretty little head about me,” he assured her, much quieter than regular old satoru gojo would have. cerulean peeked out at you from over his sunglasses and from under his hair, trying to say the words his mouth couldn’t as he rested his head on your shoulder.
call him clingy, but he wouldn’t move for anything right now. feeling you, alive and well and happy against him, that was enough.
knowing you were here was enough.
in an attempt to make small talk, you lifted you arm — the one he wasn’t using as a pillow — to point at a passing beluga whale at the massive tank in front of you both.
“satoru, look, a belu—”
“y/n, i’m in love with you.”
he lied. it wasn’t enough. he didn’t just want to be near you, to be close, yet still at arms length, he wanted to be in your arms. to kiss your face and make you smile at him in a different way than with everyone else. to nap with you on days he didn’t feel like “the strongest”, to be weak around you, to feel those damned butterflies every time he heard you call him “baby.” that was what he wanted — to openly love you, to be loved in return by you and nobody else.
“you… huh?” your hearts pounded in tandem, slamming against your ribs uncontrollably, to the point where it hurt to breathe in the best way possible. “wh… s…say that again?” you must’ve heard wrong, must’ve misinterpreted.
“…said ‘m in love with you,” he repeated, muffled due to his cheek squished against your shoulder. “like, i wanna be a jellyfish with you.”
“…oh.”
“yeah.”
it would be a lie to say that you hadn’t noticed the way your best friend looked at you, the blatantly obvious hearts in all six eyes when he laid them on you, so this wasn’t as unexpected as you made it look.
“…i think,” dry as your mouth was, you still spoke. your eyes weren’t trained on him, but instead at the fish in the life-sized tank, the shadows of passing jellyfish diluting the clear blue luminescence of the waterlogged glass periodically, “i might be in love with you, too.” it came out shakier than you wanted, but you patted yourself on the back for even getting it out at all. and it was true. you came to know him, to appreciate him, to be annoyed by him, to fighting by his side, to wishing you could be there forever, next to him.
in typical gojo fashion, he makes a face. you can’t see it, because he’s still resting on your shoulder, but you feel the indent of his cheek as he pouts. his hand not-so-subtly sneaks down to yours, and he prods your fingers open so he can slide his palm on top of yours. you swear you would’ve fallen over if you weren’t sitting.
“you ‘might’? i just told you i wanna live as a sea creature with you forever, and you ‘might’ like me back?” he mumbles: maybe he spoke clearly, actually — you don’t know, because the only thing in your ears is the pumping of your blood.
the lovestruck idiot pokes at you again — “c’mon, y/n, say it properly.”
his fingers play with yours, scratching your palm gently, tracing hearts into your skin. his head continued to rest on you, and he was ever grateful you couldn’t feel the warmth of his red face through your shirt, the burning of his ears. he’d find some way to make today last forever if he had to, if it meant sitting here next to the best friend he’d come to see as more, just watching fish swim. your hand finally clenched around his, slightly clammy, and clearly nervous, but it was your hand, so he couldn’t care less. and you squeezed his hand and said it right, because if gojo had the right to anything in this world, it was your heart.
“yeah… you’re right… i’m in love with you, satoru. let’s be jellyfish in our next lives.”
@boundedbyfate, @c4ndytr4p, @iluvies, @sad-darksoul, @fayereblogs-4, @ratmilk14, @lovelymimimoo
#꒰🪼꒱ jelly writes.#gojo x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojo jjk#jjk fluff#jjk#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru#fluff drabble#SEE I KEPT MY WORD HAHA STOP THREATENING ME NOW HAHA#ik there are mistakes i’m just too lazy to look#a Big thank you to everyone who expressed their love for my other drabble :(#u guys are my reason for writing this!!#soooo sorry if i didn’t tag anyone who wanted to be tagged i just went through my comments and found people who asked
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I love you guys, so for WIP Wednesday, you get the first two and a half pages of my unnamed, but currently named "Steve Makes Eddie Apologize to Lucas for Not Postponing Hellfire for the Championship Game" fic. Uh, I don't think there's any warnings, but here we go.
You can read it here on Tumblr
Or you can read it here on AO3
———
“So, you and Eddie, huh?”
Steve startles at the sound of a voice, deep and hushed, from where he's been waiting in Hawkins High’s parking lot. Hellfire was supposed to be out by now—6:50pm if his watch is correct—it’s their first time back since March and it would be cordial. But it seems that only Lucas got that memo.
“Jesus Christ, Sinclair!” He yelps. Holds his right palm flat against his chest, trying his best to rescind the spike of panic that is crawling through him. “I thought I told you to quit doing that,” he harshly whispers, rubbing his palm against his shirt. The scratchy material of his polo a balm against his nerves.
“Sorry,” Lucas sheepishly murmurs. Speaking at a normal volume, he asks again, “So, you and Eddie?”
He rolls his eyes. “What about me and Eddie? Can’t I just hang out with the guy without being pestered?”
Lucas shrugs. “You can do whatever you want,” he states, but Steve can already tell there’s somehow more. “But I didn’t think you two would be…buddies. Considering how he feels about, y’know, sports and whatever.”
For a moment, Steve considers Lucas’s approach. His fidgeting hands and his slightly closed off eyes. The hunch to his shoulders and the general unease that accompanies talking about Eddie. Which, that’s particularly odd. Aren’t they buddies, Steve questions himself. Wrapped up in the Hellfire club, their mutual interest in Dungeons & Dragons, the ragtag group of nerds that they are—all of that is perfect for their oddball friendship, at least Steve thought so.
“What’s wrong with you and Eddie?” Steve asks, beating around the bush. He doesn’t do cryptic. And he especially doesn’t do it with somebody like Lucas, a kid already smarter than him by several margins.
There isn’t an answer right away. But Lucas’s shoulders drop. His eyes go from frustrated to…sad. “Remember my championship game?” He asks, though it seems a bit much of a topic change. What does this have to do with Eddie, Steve has to wonder.
“Well, yeah,” he answers instead, “I was there. Had a pathetic date with a girl I hardly enjoyed being around. Mocked Tammy Thompson with Robin. Watched you get that winning shot. It was a, genuinely, awesome championship game.” And that’s the truth. It’s the best one he’s ever witnessed. Which is saying something, considering he’d played several championship games. All of them, though, were major losses. He’ll take those to the grave with him, with how often his previous basketball teams teased him.
Lucas gives a harsh single nod, a small smile that whisks away as soon as it appears. “Right,” he mutters, “I remember.” He leans against the Beemer’s bumper, shoulder brushing with Steve’s. Looks forlorn towards the high school’s doors, where Eddie and the rest of the Hellfire bunch should be spilling out any moment now. Steve looks on with him. Listens as Lucas’s voice drops low, nearly angry, fully spiteful, “I begged Dustin and Mike to talk to Eddie about my game. To see if the Hellfire campaign—which would be happening the same night—could be moved. And I, look, I understand that D&D means a lot to all of them, it means something to me, too. But I was really hoping to see my friends there. If not my friends, then at least Erica.
“They didn’t move the campaign,” he states so bitter, Steve tastes the words on his own tongue, “apparently a game where you’re shooting ‘balls into laundry baskets’ is too…mainstream and norm-ie for Eddie. He refused to move his precious game. Then, get this, instead of getting some random kid to play, they egged Erica in.” Lucas drags his eyes away from the school, head turning slow to look at Steve. He follows suit, eyeing Lucas back. His stomach churns with the vitriol painting itself unsubtly across Lucas’s face. “Color me surprised, I guess, that he’s going out with a jock,” he states, voice carefully blank of anything.
Steve stares on at him. He didn’t know this was the case at all. Remembers getting the phone call about Dustin wanting him to play, but he figured that had something to do with him bugging Steve for the millionth time. Because that was something Dustin wanted. For Steve to play. And, granted, Steve refused because it was too nerdy—unimportant and embarrassing. Yet, now he’s looking into Lucas’s face. Where hurt etches itself like solid lines of chiseled marble. Being told, instead, that Eddie’s holding his own bias.
Maybe he hasn’t removed his biases towards high school nerds, not completely. But he’s coming undone from that mentality. Considering Nancy and Robin and Eddie—Dustin and Mike and Lucas—even Max, they’re all big nerds. They all have some sort of interest with Dungeons & Dragons or theater or video games and math. And he loves them all. Though, Steve’s never stopped to think about the opposite side of the coin. Tail-side, where balls in laundry baskets is considered taboo.
After a deep silence when Steve finally digests this information, his eyebrows furrow on their own accord. Mouth downturning into a harsh frown, one that he feels to the bottoms of his feet. He stops himself in time from balling his hands into fists, but the urge to do so snarls in him like a newly unmuzzled, wild dog. A dog, he thought, that he trained obedient away from his anger. But it seems like once the teeth are bared, they never truly hide away.
“That ass,” Steve snarks. “What—so I have to reconsider all my biases surrounding nerds, reconstruct how I view everybody around me, and realize how awesome it is. And—what—Eddie can just get away with that…bullshit? That’s…What the hell?” There’s a little bit more of a bite to his words than he had anticipated. But it really isn’t fair. The table turns and he’s better for it, sure, but Eddie just…That’s not fair. The dog growls louder, drool burbling in its chops, a bark forming in the back of its throat.
———
#stranger things#Steve Harrington & Lucas Sinclair#steddie#steve harrington#lucas sinclair#mentioned eddie munson#eventual angst and hurt/comfort#angst and hurt/comfort
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helloo, can you write one for pedri with a shy girlfriend? thank you 🙏🏽
don’t get all shy on me now ~ pedri
summary: a few instances where pedri completely loves how shy and quiet his girlfriend gets around him.
“dios mío, estás tan guapa.” (my god, you look so gorgeous) pedri stated as he looked towards his girlfriend, who stood in front of her mirror checking her outfit. his eyes raked down the pretty, blue sundress she had on and y/n could see him practically drooling through the reflection in the full length mirror.
the blood instantly pooled on the surface of her cheeks, staining her bare skin a rosy tint. she blushed hard under his gaze and the small smile that tugged tightly at her lips caused a grin to form on her boyfriends’.
pedri got up from the bed, where he was mindlessly playing some game on her phone because he refused to download it on his own. it’s more fun on your phone, he’d normally say.
he was already dressed in his own outfit as they were both getting ready to meet up with his family at their house for dinner. y/n stared at his face as he made his way over, his beard still growing out as he couldn’t be bothered to shave it lately.
y/n would never admit to him how much she loved his beard and how handsome she found him with it. never. her words wouldn’t even be able to come out clearly with how shy she gets around him, how his presence just burns her whole body alive with warmth and the inability to stop blushing.
pedri reached her and his arms wrapped themselves around her waist. his bearded chin rested against her bare shoulder and the stubbly feeling of it tickled her skin, making her giggle slightly.
pedris head came to rest against hers as her hands held his arms, encasing her against his body.
“pedriii…” she slightly whined, goosebumps spiking up along her arms at the feel of his thumb rubbing circles on the sides of her hips.
“i don’t wanna leave anymore, let’s stay here.” he mumbled and left a small peck against her shoulder.
it seemed as though she didn’t even need makeup as her cheeks were already bright red. her voice was low as she spoke to him, “no, we need to leave in a few minutes, c’mon.” she stroked his arm.
pedri hummed and turned his head so that his lips were now resting against the side of her face, his mouth hovering over her warm cheek. he started pressing kisses to her flesh and the soft giggle that left her mouth didn’t go unnoticed by him as he smiled against her.
“god, i love that sound.” pedri mumbled and fuck, now her cheeks were hurting from smiling so much.
“pedri..” she breathily whispered. he looked at her reflection in the mirror and the smirk that formed on his rosy lips at the sight of her flustered expression had her knees instantly weak.
“don’t get all shy on me now, querida.”
y/n held eye contact with him in the mirror for approximately five seconds before those big brown eyes were cutting through her whole body and ripping her gaze away from his intense, teasing one.
she slapped his hand away, hating the way he always teased her vulnerability around him. however, the lopsided smile still clung to her lips as she sternly tried to tell him off for his last minute shenanigans . “stop it, come on. your parents are probably waiting.”
•••
pedris hand came to interlock with y/ns as the tv shone its bright light onto them from the front. the pair were seated in pedris living room on a random thursday night, deciding on watching a movie to spend their free time together.
it was still relatively early into their relationship, perhaps only 2-3 months and y/n didn’t deny how shy she still felt around him. every little thing he did for her, said to her, made her body shake with nerves and her cheeks fill with blush.
and this small gesture he just did, gently sliding his fingers between hers on her lap, had her screaming on the inside. his hands were so soft against hers, so warm and smooth. she wanted to move her thumb, to rub against his tender skin but would that be weird? she didn’t know, she hadn’t done all this before.
y/n practically froze on the spot and pedri felt her body stiffen beside his as he looked over at her. when he rubbed his thumb against her thumb, she exhaled the breath she was holding in and relaxed into her seat.
pedri watched the blush rise to her cheeks and her eyes flutter gently as she tenderly tightened her fingers around his hand, signalling to him it was okay and she was comfortable.
y/n turned to look at him to see him already tentatively looking at her, and pedri melted on the spot at the little shy look she gave him - her mouth pulled into a tight-lipped smile and her cheeks a bright colour of crimson.
he couldn’t wait to pull more of these pretty, shy smiles out of her.
•••
pedri walked into his girlfriends apartment with her favourite chocolates and a new book in hand. he knew she’d been wanting to read this book for quite a while and so, on his way back from training, he made a quick stop at a random bookstore to see if they had it.
they did, and he coupled it with a big box of her favourite chocolates just to see that extra wide smile on her face and twinkle in her eyes. to see that deep tint of blush on her soft, supple cheeks.
the sound of dishes clattering around in the kitchen could be heard when he walked in and so he made his way over with a mischievous smile lurking on his lips. y/n was stood at the stove infront of a pot of boiling water, with her phone in hand.
pedri, with the surprises clamped behind his back, snuck up on his girlfriend. he did a little jog towards her and pressed his lips to her cheek in a quick kiss.
y/n smiled. she knew he was back as she heard the door open. she recognised his footsteps against the flooring.
“oh, pedri you scared me.” she told him, a hint of sarcasm lacing her voice as her eyes stayed glued to her phone but the smile stayed on her lips.
“i was going for a more realistic reaction but that’ll do.” he laid another kiss to her cheek before leaning back up to his normal height, towering over her by a few inches.
y/n locked her phone and looked up at her boy. he was freshly showered, smelt like his usual handsomeness and she instantly noticed his two hands, that would usually be engulfing her body and wandering in random places at this time of day, were currently stuck behind his back.
“what’re you hiding?” she raised her brows.
“i have a little surprise. close your eyes.” he snickered and her look of curiosity turned to one of confusion. with a huff and without question, she closed her eyes and pedri revealed his two little presents with a grin on his face.
“vale, open.”
she gasped as her eyes instantly set onto the cover of that book that lay somewhere deep within her amazon cart, but she’d been wanting to read it for so long now. excitement rapidly settled into her stomach but her heart rate practically zoomed through her chest when she saw the box of her favourite chocolates in his hands.
the blush couldn’t stop itself from painting her flesh and she gaped up at him.
“pedri!” she reached for them and admired them whilst he admired her, satisfied with her reaction this time.
he watched as she placed them both down on the counter next to her and threw her arms around his taller frame. her lips instantly attacked his in a sudden kiss but he didn’t mind as he slotted his lips against hers and she kissed her gratitude into him. she laid quick pecks against his mouth and cheek before staring at him in extreme infatuation. she adored this man so fucking much.
“you didn’t have to.” he loved this heavenly expression on her features; her eyes sparkling, her cheeks flushed, her lips pulled into her usual shy smile.
“i wanted to.”
•••
“c’mon a big smile!” pedri practically cheered as he held the phone out in front of him. y/n stood infront of the floral pattern of the wall behind her as pedri insisted he take some pictures.
memories, he said. memories of how good you look right now.
y/n started blushing with the looks they were getting from some people walking past. some weird and some smiling. her hand came up to cover her face as the low laughter shook from her body at the sight of pedri so focused on the pictures yet so unfocused on the people around them.
pedri smiled to himself, staring at his beautiful girlfriend through the lens of the camera. the light was displaying itself in just the right angles and everything looked so perfect, even his camera skills may he add. however, it still did her beauty no justice, he had to admit.
he couldn’t wait to just sit in his bed later that evening to stare at these pictures - she just looked so ethereal right now.
the fondness that took over y/ns body presents itself on her face as she shyly smiled at the camera, tilting her head as pedri kept snapping some pictures. just when she thought that was enough and started walking back towards pedri, he shook his head and signalled her to step back so he could get a few more shots.
“pedri, i’m sure that’s enough for you to stare at.” she joked, as if she just knew he was falling even more in love with her right now.
“no it’s not, please, just a few more.” she pouted and practically pleaded with her eyes for them to stop because she couldn’t handle how out of her comfort zone this felt, infront of so many prying eyes.
but the desperate look on her boys face made her stand back and pose with a smile on her face for a few more seconds. pedri was then beckoning her over to look through them. she swiped through them with low giggles, knowing how seriously he was taking this, and it made her heart leap.
“so gorgeous.” pedri stared at her, loving the flustered look on her face at his compliment.
“you look amazing, amor. mi preciosa.” he tucked some of her hair back behind her ear.
in that moment, he made a mental note to take more picutes of her often just so he could see this sweet, shy look on her face again.
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Handle with Care
Rodimus has finally been allowed to bring you into a meeting to hopefully curb some of his rampant fidgeting problems. It ends up having unforeseen consequences.
First Contact AU! Rodimus/Human Reader
NSFW, DUB-CON, Accidental Stimulation, Rodmius has ADHD and you can pry that fact out of my cold dead hands
(Since this is a First Contact AU Rodimus uses Cybertronian words for body parts instead of human ones for you, but the Reader is a human!)
Rodimus knew he always did his best thinking when he had something to do with his servos. As insistent as Ultra Magnus was that his endless tapping, bouncing, and desk-carving was simply "an untapped well of craving for mayhem", Rodimus knew that having even a little something to fiddle with would make those endless, droning safety meetings into something just barely bordering on tolerable.
And since Ultra Magnus was also sick of his relentless desk vandalism, he finally gave the begrudging all-clear for Rodimus to bring his favorite organic to the meeting room.
"They can remain so long as they are not a distraction." With his soft little buddy cupped carefully in his servos, not even Ultra Magnus's stern words could sway his captain's notable enthusiasm.
"You say that as if they could be any more distracting than the bot carrying them." Megatron added.
"You worry too much! We'll be quieter than moon mice, right bud?" Rodimus ran a thumb over your soft, fuzz-covered helm as he took his seat. You were sitting comfortably in the center of his right palm, legs dangling over the edge between his digits. He kept his middle and ring digits curled up slightly to keep you from toppling forward, and you'd settled yourself in with your arms folded atop them and your chin resting against the tips of his digits. He gave you another soft stroke to the helm and beamed at the content little chirp you let out in response.
Ultra Magnus cleared his vents. "If we may begin, we have a lot of ground to cover. Starting with the grievous filing system Brainstorm has insisted on using for the weapons bay. It flaunts any Cybertronian standard known to bot and presents a massive safety risk when considering…"
Yeah, if Rodimus hadn't brought you along he'd already be itching for a dagger to start carving caricatures with. Instead his left-servo digits wandered lazily over your helm and shoulders, absentmindedly petting as his processor already started phasing out the dialogue of his second-in-command. Primus, organics really were so soft. Even your little coverings were soft, he noted as he ran a digit tip over the fabric covering your torso. You let out another quiet hum, melting ever further into Rodimus's grip as he patted you.
"And if you think your petition to install turbo-thrusters on your private vehicle was approved, Rodimus, I assure you it was not."
"WHA-?! What's wrong with the turbo thrusters? Brainstorm already approved the prototype!" He sat upright and forward in his seat, left servo cupping around your back to make sure you weren't overly jostled. "And they'll look great on the Rod Pod, too. Already painted and everything."
"We can't have one of our captains blowing himself up meteor surfing just because he wanted a thrill. And must I emphasize the use of the word 'prototype'? Meaning 'unfinished and untested'?"
"What better way to test them than on my ship?"
"Do you want them listed alphabetically, or by order of safety protocol?"
Rodimus grumbled, a buzzing charge of irritation spiking through his frame. He cupped your back tighter with his servo to make sure you were still settled in as he flumped back into his seat with an overly dramatic ex-vent. The motion pushed your entire soft fore up against his wide digits, and he could feel a shiver course through your small frame.
"You bored yet?" He murmured, knowing you couldn't fully understand him but also knowing his comments would needle at Ultra Magnus. "Or are you cold? You feel pretty warm." A single digit stroked down the length of your spinal strut and Rodimus startled at the sudden, shaky in-vent you'd failed to stifle. "What was…?"
"Affectionate little organic you've found for yourself, Rodimus." Megatron's comment nearly made Rodimus leap out of his own plating. The taller mech gestured to the way you'd wrapped both of your arms around Rodimus's digits, your cheek pressed against the metal tip of one.
"W-Well yeah! I am their favorite, after all." He asserted, though his free digits kept wandering up and down the expanse of your back. The last thing he wanted was for Megatron and Ultra Magnus to think something was wrong with you. That would just give them more reason to not let him bring you to meetings. No, as soon as he could slip out of here he'd take you to Perceptor himself to get you checked out. Hopefully you could wait it out that long.
But as the meeting progressed Rodimus found that everything that was being said to him was going in one audial processor and straight out the other. He was too focused on your movement, each tiny rock and wriggle. He kept the palm of his other servo pressed against your back to keep you snug and warm, though his own sensors didn't indicate anything out of the norm for your current ambient temperature. Maybe you got bored like he did? Absent-mindedly he began bouncing you in his palm, just barely enough movement to jostle your frame. The dull motion would keep you occupied and keep Rodimus from going stir-crazy with nothing to fiddle with. He was killing two birdbots with one stone!
"...And if we're going to allow Swerve to continue his antics, I must insist that he is at least properly licensed and certified."
"C'mon! It's good for-!" Rodimus had tried to interject, but before he could he was interrupted by a strangled yelp from his palm. All three bots' optics were drawn to your form as you shuddered in Rodimus's servo, arms and legs squeezing around his digits and your helm hanging over the tips of them, hiding your faceplate from view. Your own little servos pushed pathetically at Rodimus's, trying to shove your fore away from his touch as you whimpered.
"You didn't squash them, did you? Rodimus."
"They don't appear to be harmed. Merely… distressed?"
"No worries everything's fine let's pick this up next cycle sounds good okay BYE!" Rodimus spat out a flurry of placations and excuses as he scrambled to leave, cupping you close to his chest the entire sprint back to his own habsuite. Only once he was over his desk, littered with your various human-sized furniture and items, did he carefully uncup his hands and let you sprawl out across a single palm. You remained lying flat on your back, fore heaving as you vented, helm fluff sticky with your organic-made coolant where it clung to your face. As you made optic contact with him you let out the tiniest, most pathetic whine as your servos flew up to cover your face.
"Rodimus…" Though you couldn't fully understand each other, you had settled on a throaty, metered recreation of his name, doing your best to mimic the mechanical warbles he had used to introduce himself to you. He'd heard you use it a handful of times before, mostly to get his attention. But now? Now you seemed absolutely distraught, whining out the word in a high, flustered pitch through your cupped servos.
"What?! What did I do wrong?" He blinked owlishly down at you, poking ever so gently around your form with a free digit. He prodded at your helm, your shoulders, your chassis… But as his digits trailed down your fore you whimpered, hips jerking pathetically up as he neared your pelvis. You let out another embarrassed squeak, one of your pedes kicking frantically against his digit with a metal 'bang!' to shove it away.
Oh. Oops.
Rodimus wasn't stupid, he knew that humans didn't have armor plating. Instead you delighted in covering yourself with various colorful fabrics for different occasions and times of day, a freedom of self-design that he both greatly admired and slightly envied.
But Rodimus had never actually considered that no armor really meant no armor. Not even a modesty plate.
"I'm so sorry!" He hissed, heat rushing to his own faceplate as well. Accidentally making you overload in the middle of a meeting wasn't even on the list of possible ways Rodimus thought things could go wrong, but apparently now it needed to be added. He'd used the vibrating buzz if his digits many a time on other mechs and femmes, but he never intended to use it on you. At least not in that way! Letting you slide oh-so-carefully from his palm and onto the surface of the desk, you continued to languish in your humiliation sprawled out on your back. "I really didn't mean to! I know you don't know what I'm saying but I promise it wasn't on purpose!"
You glanced through your fingers at his faceplate and his apologetic frown, letting out another huff. This one sounded less overwhelmed though, more resigned. You gestured for him to bring a servo closer and he did, only for you to duck your helm under one of his digits and let him pet your soft organic head fluff.
"You forgive me?" You couldn't understand him but gave him a small, reassuring pat on the palm. "Ahh, thank you! If it's any consolation, I don't think either of them noticed."
But as he carefully stroked your helm with two digits, a teeny tiny part of Rodimus's processor was curious. How hard was it for you to keep quiet? Was the wiggling around from you trying to get away from the stimulation, or chase it? Were you scared, overloading in a room full of giant mechs? Or was there a chance that part of you might have… enjoyed it?
Weird. He was weird. And he was going to file those thoughts away behind a door in his processor to only be opened when he needed things to feel self-deprecating about. Rodimus of Nyon, Captain of the Lost Light, secret fantasizer of human overloads… Yeah, that probably wouldn't go over well.
And yet, Rodimus couldn't help how little he actually minded that.
#transformers#transformers x reader#rodimus#rodimus prime#rodimus x reader#rodimus prime x reader#first contact au#valveplug#maccadam
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Cardigan | S.R.
Summary: the cold AC in the building causes the reader to have a... bodily response, and Spencer is protective.
Warnings: nipples?
Word Count: 0.7k
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It was a hot, summer day for Virginia, whose climate often didn’t exceed the high 70s. Today it fell around an unusual 85, and the BAU was clearly not used to it. The AC was turned up to max cool in the office and although it felt nice, you had the occasional shiver spike down your spine.
You had chosen a short sleeve maroon colored top today, and it was on the tighter side. You always felt warmer with additional fabric, so you thought the figure-hugging top would cool you off as opposed to something loose-fitting. It certainly had done its job, but your lack of a jacket or cardigan had resulted in the amplification of a certain feature on your chest.
You had noticed, obviously, and shifted uncomfortably each time you saw them. That’s something women unfortunately are forced to think about. Additionally, not that you had to wear a bra, but you were wearing one, it just happened to be quite thin. Once again, your choice was determined by the temperature outside. You couldn't have guessed that the BAU would choose to have the AC on its fullest blast.
Luckily for you, you worked with professionals. Even if they noticed your compromised situation, it wasn't like anyone was going to say anything. Or even care all too much, for that matter. You decided to let it go, and continue your work. They were just nipples; everyone had them.
Spencer Reid felt differently about the situation. He had first noticed the fact that you were shifting uncomfortably in your seat. Then he noticed the occasional shivers on your bare arms. After that is when he caught sight of the small peaks protruding from your chest as a direct result of the chill air.
Spencer had blushed, despite having seen that area of your body with less clothing on than now. He felt uncomfortable thinking about the intimate moments he shared with you whilst at the workplace. Further, he found himself feeling protective of you, as well as those precious moments. The thought of someone else merely considering these private parts of you left him with a bitter taste in his mouth.
At first, Spencer observed the situation, not wanting to make a scene and embarrass you more than he could assume you already were. He would have lent you something to cover up with, but he too dressed minimally for the weather.
Spencer continued his work, occasionally sneaking a glance at you just to make sure you were still okay. As Spencer looked up once again, he noticed an intern walk through the bullpen. The intern was young; he must have been in his very early twenties. Spencer didn't recognize him and he assumed he must be from a different department.
Spencer blatantly observed the young male practically gawk and drool at your chest as he approached you. He stopped and began chatting with you about something Spencer could not see. The young genius could feel his face heat up with irritation and annoyance.
Spencer was steadily growing irate and he seriously considered giving you the shirt off his own back. Then he remembered -- he had a cardigan in his bottom desk drawer. He had put it in his drawer of miscellaneous items back in the winter. Just in case, he had recalled thinking. He mentally gave his past self kudos for remembering to leave it there.
He quickly unlocked the bottom drawer and snatched the tan, knitted cardigan from its depths and beelined to you.
"Hi darling," Spencer cooed, and draped the cardigan over your shoulders. He took it a step further and pulled either side of the article of clothing across your torso, covering your chest.
You were taken aback. Spencer was typically too shy to use pet names to refer to you, unless it was just the two of you. His assertiveness in covering the exposed part of you filled your body with a familiar warmth.
Spencer stared at the intern, his jaw clenched. The young man got the message and politely said goodbye to you.
You turned around in your rolling chair, evidently unwrapping yourself from Spencer's grasp.
"What," you began, blushing. "What was that?"
Spencer opened and closed his mouth. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, he was bashful.
"I could tell you were uncomfortable earlier with your," he paused, "with your situation, and I just didn't like the way he was looking at you."
You smiled at your boyfriend, appreciating his thoughtfulness. He was right; you had been uncomfortable, and you cherished his ability to notice these intricacies. You pulled the warm cardigan across your chest again, like Spencer had done moments ago.
"Thank you."
"Yeah," Spencer murmured meekly, "anytime."
-----
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Stay | JJK
summary: when a creepy stranger follows you to your new job, your best friend jungkook makes sure he never does it again. but now he’s hurt and you’re determined to tend to his wounds, no matter how awkward if feels.
pairing: jungkook x reader
wc: 5,778
warnings/genre/rating: 17+, best friends to lovers; swearing; mentions of violence and bruises; insinuation of stalking; emotional distress; kissing; romantic touching; a bit of jealousy; vague reference to family estrangement; in this world, jungkook likes coffee but you don’t; and this is all obviously made up, none of it’s real
a/n: look, idk what this is. it just happened while i was missing a cute someone. having a really hard time writing rn so apologies if this isn’t what you were expecting. maybe you’ll like it (i hope so!)
The last few hours of your shift pass quietly.
You weren’t expecting any customers at this hour, especially given the warming temperatures, although convenience stores do tend to have some weirdos walk in at odd hours.
You duck below the front counter to clean the glass encasing the lottery tickets and hear the front door chime.
Quickly removing your hand, you start locking up the case when you hear something land on top of the counter. Tilting your head up, you see two Starbucks cups sat atop the counter.
“We don’t—“
When you meet the eyes of the customer, you realize it’s Jungkook.
“Done yet?”
“Not yet,” you reply, sighing as you glance at the clock behind you. “Nearly an hour left.”
Jungkook sighs. “You need a different job,” he says, looking over his shoulder before stuffing his hands in his pocket. “ I have a bad feeling about those dudes hanging out front.”
You look past him and shake your head.
You recognize one of the guys, the same guy that asked you out a few weeks ago. The one you’re certain belongs to some gang or mafia or something. You wonder if he thinks you may change your mind if you see him around enough times.
Little does he know, he’s the reason you’ve been applying to dozens of jobs to get out of this hellhole and as far from him as possible.
But you haven’t had much luck yet and you can’t afford to be jobless.
“Don’t worry, Jungkook. I can handle them. Anyways,” you stop for a second, pointing at the cups. “One of these for me?”
“No, I need both of these if I gotta listen to you.”
“This one better not be coffee or I’ll—“
You grab the one closest to you, sniffing the warm chocolate aroma and sighing in relief.
“I asked them to spike it with espresso.”
“Jerk,” you reply, smiling with the knowledge that Jungkook would never forget your drink order. He knows how much you despise coffee.
One by one, customers leave the coffee shop and you don’t blame them. With the number of mistakes the new barista is making, spilling drinks on the floor, on himself, on customers, you would be inviting a burn just to stay within 10 feet of him.
But you remain standing, grimacing every time one of the customers walks out with rather harsh parting words.
Too harsh, considering that his face probably drew in far more customers than the small shop usually sees.
Finally, you’re next in the line.
Well, you’re now the only person left in line.
When he sees you, his face brightens up tenfold.
“Y/N!! I didn’t expect you here. Hi!”
You step forward and smile at the beautiful boy behind the counter, hoping and praying that the warmth in your cheeks is not translating onto your skin.
“Hi Taehyung! Jungkook told me today was your first day so of course I had to come. How is it going?”
“Good,” is the first word out of his mouth but when you glance at the carnage of spilled drinks being wiped up by another worker, he quickly adds, “But it could be better. I guess I have much more to learn.” The way he scratches the nape of his neck is unexpectedly endearing.
“Let me make you a drink. You hit me as an iced Americano drinker, right?”
Iced Americano. The most repulsive, rancid drink on the menu.
“Yep, mhmm. That’s my drink.”
This is a new low. You’re not proud of yourself for folding but after all the mistakes he made today, you don’t have the heart to add another one to the list.
He prepares it quickly and regretfully manages not to spill it on you. As you take your first sip, the door to the coffee shop opens up behind you.
“Jungkook! You made it, buddy.”
Shit.
You wish the ground could swallow you whole when you notice Jungkook in your periphery, staring at the drink now leaving your lips, your throat twitching from having to push the vile liquid down it.
“Is that… coffee?”
“Haven’t seen much of you lately. So this is where you work now?”
You drum your fingers along the counter of the coffee shop, trying not to let your panic show on your face. You don’t even bother looking at the guy, the same one that fuelled your desire to leave your old job. You assumed you would never have to see him again once you found a new place to work but you were wrong.
With some effort, you manage to muster up your best customer service smile. “What would you like to order?”
He steps closer and you can almost imagine his smug expression as you look past him, trying your best to avoid eye contact.
“What drink can I buy you, beautiful?”
You flinch at the last word, scrunching up your nose as if something smells. You can smell the bullshit on him.
You take one deep inhale and straighten up to face him head on, locking eyes with the creep.
“I don’t want a drink from you. Ever. So either order something for yourself or leave the shop.”
He chuckles. “Don’t get emotional, beautiful. It’s just one drink.”
You scoff, amazed at his audacity.
“Look, I’m not interested. Please leave me alone.”
“Come on, it’s just one drink—“
“She asked you to leave her alone. That means you leave her alone.”
Taehyung is now standing between you and the man, his arms crossed over his chest.
“Why don’t you butt out, man. I’m just talking here.”
“No,” you interject, pushing Taehyung gently aside as you face the creep again, “I’m done talking to you. Are you going to leave or would you prefer the cops escort you?”
“Open up, Y/N. I know you’re home.”
You run to the peephole in your apartment and see Jungkook standing on the other side, pacing back and forth with his hands in fists.
“Now, Y/N, or I’m breaking the door down.”
When you open the door, he practically jumps at you, grabbing your shoulders as he scans your face and then looks at the rest of you. “Are you ok, Y/N? Did he hurt you? Give me his name.”
You realize Taehyung must have told him what happened. You grab Jungkook’s wrist and bring him to your couch, guiding him down as you sit down beside him.
“I’m fine, Jungkook. Perfectly fine. He just asked me out again and I said no. Nothing else happened.”
Jungkook looks relieved. Then he turns back to you.
“Again? You know him?”
“It’s… no, not really. Just some guy.”
You avoid his eyes, picking at a thread on your jeans. He puts his hand on yours.
“Tell me.”
“It’s no one. You don’t know him.”
“Y/N…”
You sigh. “It’s that guy you saw hanging out in front of the convenience store. He had asked me out back then and somehow found me at the coffee shop today. But don’t worry, I told him…” You pause when you notice his eyes clouding over, seemingly in a trance as he stands up, hands tightening into a fist.
“Jungkook?”
“It was the same guy? You’re sure?” He’s looking at you but you know he doesn’t see you. He sees him.
You stand up to face him directly, trying to wade through the fog in his eyes. “Don’t do anything stupid, Jungkook. He won’t—“ He doesn’t wait for you to finish as he pulls his hood over his head, slamming your door behind him.
You run out into the hall but he’s already gone.
Jungkook isn’t responding to your texts or calls. You’ve spent the last two and a half hours walking the streets trying to find him, terrified he might do something incredibly dangerous.
He has a habit of being overprotective and you’re worried he might land himself in the hospital again.
Or worse.
You scan every possible spot he may be, checking in with Taehyung every few minutes ever since you asked him to join the search, but so far neither of you have had any luck.
It’s cold and you can’t stop the disturbing thoughts, the ones with a badly hurt Jungkook. You’re hoping Jungkook doesn’t find him. That asshole is undoubtedly dangerous and if he happens to be with the thugs he usually surrounds himself with, you can’t bear to imagine what they’d do to Jungkook.
A few more hours pass and Taehyung’s roommate forces him to come home, leaving you to continue the search on your own.
You feel helpless and completely alone, letting your feet guide you as you continue to beg the universe to let you find Jungkook safe and sound.
Without realizing it, you’re in the middle of the park where you and Jungkook first met. You look up, almost pleading by now and feel droplets hit your face. You didn’t even realize it was raining.
“Y/N…?”
You turn around to see Jungkook standing a few metres away. Without warning you cry out, hot tears free falling onto your cheeks. Through the tears, you can only see the outline of Jungkook standing in the moon light and wonder if he is really there or if he’s just a beautiful mirage.
“Where were you,” you shout through the tears, nearly wailing at this point. “Why didn’t you answer my calls, idiot? I thought you…you might…”
Jungkook had started walking towards you at some point because his arms are now wrapped around you, his hand cradling your head against his chest. “Shhh, I’m here.”
“I thought you might…might be hurt,” you mutter between breaths, your tears spilling onto his chest and you’re not sure if he even understands what you’re saying.
“I’m ok. Really.”
You sniffle, and Jungkook tilts his head back to look at you. But you immediately pull your arms out from his hug and punch him on the chest. “You jerk, you could have—“
You pause mid sentence when you notice Jungkook wince in pain, far more than you would have expected. You blink a few times and notice the cut on his lip. His eye also seems quite a bit more red and swollen than you remember.
You pull back and stare at him. Although he attempts a smile, it doesn’t fool you, especially when the action causes his cheek to twitch.
“What happened, Jungkook?”
He scratches the back of his neck, looking away now. “Nothing.”
You tilt his face back to you and run your finger over his cut lip. His lip twitches though you know he’s trying to keep a brave face. You trace up to his eye and catch another flinch, and the very beginnings of a bruise.
“You’re hurt.”
“You should see the other guy.”
It takes quite a bit of convincing to get Jungkook back into your apartment. He keeps insisting he can clean himself up and you know it’s because it’s past midnight now.
But you can’t let him take care of himself. Especially when you’re the reason he’s hurt.
Jungkook is sitting on your couch and looking the least comfortable you’ve ever seen him, his leg bouncing so fast you fear he may take off.
“Stay still. I need to get the ointment on your lip or it’ll scar.”
“Wouldn’t I look handsome with a scar?”
Jungkook laughs when you huff in annoyance, but immediately winces in pain, reaching for the cut.
“You’re lucky your lip ring wasn’t ripped out, Jungkook. I can’t believe you would stoop to violence.”
You’re leaning into him now, tilting his chin up so you can get a closer look at the cut.
You notice your heart racing and can’t figure out why. Then you realize Jungkook is staring at you.
“It might be easier for me if you close your eyes.”
“Who says I want this to be easy?”
Groaning, you leave the couch, returning a few seconds later with a bag of frozen peas. You press it against his blackening eye, a little carelessly given his last comment.
“Such gentle bedside manner,” Jungkook mutters, taking the peas from your hands and gently pressing it against his eye.
“Shut up.”
You stand back and survey his face, noticing a crusted cut above his eye. Grabbing the wet towel, you start wiping it off when he grabs your wrist.
“You’re shivering.”
“Hmm?”
Looking down, for the first time you notice you’re drenched, having been far more preoccupied with getting Jungkook cleaned up.
He reaches over and pushes a wet strand from your eyes. You’re staring at him now, swallowing when he wipes away a droplet from your cheek.
“Maybe you want to change into something warmer?”
“Yeah, ok. Give me one sec,” you reply, jumping up to grab a change of clothes. You pause mid-step and look back. “I’ll bring you the hoodie you left last time.”
You let him hit the shower first, standing back in awe when he emerges 20 minutes later in his old hoodie (it’s yours now, but whatever) and a pair of your baggy sweats. He really looks exceptional in sweats, you think to yourself. When he catches you staring, you clear your throat.
“Right. My turn now.”
His reaction to you after your shower is not nearly as… complimentary. You had grabbed the first pair of clothes in your drawer and maybe that was a mistake.
“Duckies?” He looks like he’s fighting back a laugh, but you don’t see anything wrong with the pyjama set. “It looks like someone barfed ducks on you.”
“What? These are normal pyjamas,” you reply, eyes narrowing. “What do you wear? Ironman shorts?”
A grown man is now giggling in your living room. You’re livid.
“How did you know I was wearing Ironman shorts? Did you peek?”
“What the heck? Seriously?” Ease sets in again as you laugh freely, walking over to playfully shove him. He winces in pain again, prompting you to stare at him. “Are you hurt here too?”
You place your hand on his chest and slide it over to where you shoved him. He sharply inhales, the action answer enough for you. You blink a few times and consider the options before landing on one. You realize you need to go with the one that feels the least comfortable.
“Take it off,” you say, vaguely gesturing to his chest.
“Huh?”
“You heard me,” you repeat, grabbing the layer covering his top half. “I need to see what I’m working with.”
“What, again? You really like making me take my clothes off, huh?”
Despite the annoyed groan you let out, you’re actually grateful for his attempt at lightening the mood.
He struggles for a few moments but manages to remove the hoodie with your help. Once it’s completely off, you can’t help but stare at his chest.
“What the fuck, Jungkook. Your boobs are bigger than mine.”
When you look up, you expect to be received by a smug grin or at least a smirk. But he seems to be avoiding your eyes, his ears turning an impressive shade of red.
Instead of teasing him further, you lean in to examine the injuries. Thankfully it’s not as bad as you feared. There is definitely the beginnings of bruising, but nothing major.
You run your hand over the bruised spot on his chest to check for swelling, noticing him jump a little.
“Too cold?”
He nods.
Rubbing your hands together, you try again, resting a fingertip on his skin. He looks up at you and nods. You slide your hand lower to his ribs and Jungkook groans in response. The bruising is a bit worse there and you decide to apply an ice pack to reduce the risk of further swelling.
Unfortunately, ice is not very comfortable.
Every time your hand glides over his chest, he jumps, pulling away from your touch.
“I need to hold this in place for it to work.”
“Fine. Be quick.”
He inhales but the second your hand touches his chest, he jumps again.
“Sorry, try it again.”
You place your hand on his chest again and notice him tensing his body, his abs distracting you momentarily. As you glide it over to his bruised rib, you hear his muffled groans. A few minutes pass as you continue holding on, noticing how cute he looks with his eyes squeezed shut and his self restraint as he bites his lip, willing himself to endure a bit longer.
You let go one hand to reach for his face when you feel him grab your other wrist again.
With his eyes still shut, he whispers so low you almost don’t hear it. “How much longer?”
You blink at him and when you don’t respond, his eyes flutter open.
Suddenly there isn’t enough air. His breath sounds shallow and you wonder if yours sounds the same. With how close he is, you almost forget he asked you a question.
Clearing your throat, you glance into his eyes momentarily before averting your gaze to his hand wrapped around yours. “A few more minutes. Think you can hang in there a bit longer, hmm?”
He sighs, grip loosening but staying where it is. You chance a glance at him again and he is looking at you. The intensity of his gaze runs through you, an intensity you assume stems from his pain. Pain you wish you could take away.
Your eyes drift to his chest and your mind to somewhere further away. You would have never guessed he looks like that under all those baggy clothes. He’s always been so shy about showing his body, and now you can’t help wondering why.
You’re pulled out of your thoughts by the sound of thumping. Jungkook’s leg is bouncing again and you reach over to rest your free hand on his leg. Your eyes meet and he gives you a small smile before looking away.
You lift the ice pack and press it higher. He hisses, biting his lip again, so hard you fear he may draw blood. Suddenly his hand squeezes yours again, eyes snapping shut. “Ok, enough, Y/N. I can’t take it any more.”
You exhale the breath you’d been holding, removing the ice pack from him. “Ok, fine. I guess that’s enough.”
A shiver passes through him and you watch as he rubs his arm, looking up at you with a sheepish grin. “Thanks.”
As you wrap up the ice pack, Jungkook reaches over you to grab his hoodie. With his face so close to yours, you notice how long his eyelashes are, and how cute his nose looks sitting above his pretty lips.
You quickly look away and wait for him to put on his hoodie. Once it’s on, you look at him again. He looks really tired, the very picture of how you feel.
“You can take my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.”
Jungkook quirks his brow and then shakes his head, pushing himself off the couch very slowly. “I’ll be way more comfortable in my own bed.”
You quickly run to your door, covering it up with your body. “Absolutely no way I’m letting you walk home in this condition. Besides, I’m taking you to the doctor first thing in the morning.”
Jungkook reaches behind you but in his exhaustion he ends up collapsing onto you. You let him lean on your shoulder, cradling his head as you imagine what he’s been through.
He slowly wraps his arms around you, and you two stay like that for a little while longer, standing perfectly still in each other’s arms. These last several hours have been hell.
“Ok fine, I’ll sleep here,” he whispers onto your shoulder, inhaling deeply before pulling away. “But I’ll take the couch.”
You manage to convince Jungkook to share the bed with you, something that Jungkook fights you on even as you’re guiding him under the covers. But you insist, especially since it means he can tell you immediately if he feels worse.
After you tuck him in, you leave for the washroom. When you return, Jungkook is already asleep.
You chuckle when you notice the little pillow barrier he built between you two. You flip off the light and get into bed, leaning over the barrier to give Jungkook the lightest kiss on the head you can manage. “Love ya, dork,” you whisper with a smile, flipping onto your side.
Before long you’re fast asleep. He chances a look over the barrier and confirms it.
Sighing, he lies back down, staring at the ceiling.
“I love you too, Y/N.”
You toss in bed, realizing you’re now awake. With a few blinks to adjust to the darkness of the room, you tilt your head up and catch the red glare from your clock. 3:42am.
Not morning yet.
Blinking some more, memories of this night float to the front of your mind.
With the utmost care, you twist towards the other side. The breath you’d been holding releases as you see Jungkook laying peacefully beside you.
It wasn’t a dream. He’s still here.
You prop up on your elbow as you lean towards him, reaching over the pillow partition to brush a strand that has fallen over his face. He stirs a little, one hand coming over his stomach as the other twitches under the covers.
You watch him breathe.
In and out.
In and out.
He’s such an idiot.
You shiver as that thought hits you. The thought of what could have happened to him.
Behind that rough exterior lies the gentlest person you know.
To the world, he is the bad boy. The tattoos and face piercings. The bruises on his knuckles from boxing. The sound of his motorcycle in the dead of night.
To you, he is the only good thing in your world. The bunny nose scrunches and elmo giggles. The giant hugs when you have to let go first. And the way he always shows up when you need him.
When you two first met, your father warned you away from him. He went so far as to threaten disowning you.
Well. Turns out it wasn’t just a threat. And when the final bell rang, you chose Jungkook.
He has no clue, though. He just knows you as that annoying rich girl who now struggles to make ends meet.
And he’s always been way too considerate to ask what happened. Instead, he offers his ramen whenever you come over and always gets two cups of Starbucks.
And he doesn’t need to know. All that matters is he is the best friend you could ever ask for. The one person who has stood by you through it all.
And the only person you have ever been in love with.
You only wish you could be brave enough to tell him that.
Maybe you could…
You feel an urge to lean over and kiss his forehead.
That should be ok, right?
You stare at him a bit longer, watching his chest rise and fall, soft sounds escaping his lips.
You lean across and rest your hand at his side, taking care not to touch him.
He is still as night itself.
You dip down and let your lips hover over his forehead.
His eyes are closed. Even with his eyes closed, he’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen.
You wish he could see it too.
It’s comical, actually, because he truly is beautiful. But when you told him so, he made some offhanded comment about Taehyung being the handsome one and asked you not to lie. You just brushed it off but at this moment it bothers you. What does he mean?
Look at his cute lil nose.
If you had a nickel for every time you wanted to boop it, you’d be rich again.
And those perfectly pouty lips. Like rose petals on top of each other. You’ve always wondered how…
Only a split second and suddenly your lips are on his. Just the gentlest touch but it’s enough.
You gasp the slightest bit before you pull away, embarrassed and ashamed. But your hand remains planted at his side. When you look back you see Jungkook’s fingers circled around your wrist.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Jungkook’s eyes are still closed but he’s smirking now. With a quick tug at your wrist you fall on top of him and he groans, prompting you to prop yourself up again.
“Jungkook—,” you gasp but his other hand pulls you down, your lips crashing onto his again. He sighs against your lips and then kisses you, soft and hard all at once. You smile, kissing him back. When you finally pull away, his eyes are still shut.
“If this is a dream,” he murmurs, his hand making its way up your back. “I’m never waking up again.”
“Jungkook,” you whisper again, sliding your hand up his chest and he groans when you touch a sore spot, “oh, sorry,” you add, glancing down.
He hisses, pulling you onto him and wrapping his arms around you. “Hold me. Even if it’s just for tonight.”
You press a kiss against his chest before snuggling into him.
Then it hits you.
Just for tonight.
You wonder if he wants this to be a one-off thing.
Or he could still be half asleep.
Worries cloud your mind as his arms envelope you. You feel him press a kiss to the top of your head.
You inhale deeply and lift your head a bit. “Just for tonight… is that what you want?”
He sighs, pulling you in tighter. “I want this forever. Just you and me.”
You notice he hasn’t said your name once. Maybe he is still dazed. You did give him some pretty strong painkillers.
He groans again and you lift your head. “Maybe you could…,” he starts and when he doesn’t say anything else you rest your head again.
“Wha—,” you exclaim as Jungkook then pulls you across him, dragging you over his body to his other side, the less bruised one.
“There,” he says, kicking away the pillows and nestling himself into the centre of the bed. “This is perfect. You comfy?” He looks down at you with the biggest smile and warmth spreads across your chest. You can only nod. He chuckles, pulling you in tighter.
And somehow you fall asleep like that.
Like it’s the most normal thing in the world.
Morning comes much too soon.
You blink open your eyes to white and yellow haze. The blinds must be drawn.
Fear creeps up your throat as you run your hand across the bed. The tangle of white sheets are just that. Sheets.
He’s gone.
The doubts start to swirl in your head as you remember what he said.
Just for tonight.
He probably regrets it. The kiss. The cuddling. Everything.
Was it too much? Are you too much?
Lost in your own world, you don’t hear the sound of footsteps growing louder as they approach.
Or the sound of something hitting your night table.
But you do feel the arms that snake around you, a hard body gently setting against yours, and warm breath on your neck.
“Mmm,” he hums, kissing your neck, “time to eat.”
When you open your eyes, Jungkook is staring at you. Contrary to the soft and easy way he spoke, there is uncertainty in his eyes. A searching look. A car waiting for a green light.
And it hits you.
He’s just as worried as you are. This is new territory you two are exploring.
He opens his mouth then shuts it, his teeth peeking out to catch on his lip ring. You watch, fascinated, as you wait for him to speak.
He comes in a bit closer then hesitates. “Is this ok? Should I leave? I didn’t know if what happened last night—“
You lift your head and kiss his nose. “More than ok. I want you to stay.” And just like magic, the lost look disappears. His nose scrunches up as he smiles down at you.
“Hungry?”
“Mhmm.”
He helps you up and pulls the sheets from your legs. You can’t help noticing the ease with which he’s moving.
“You seem a lot better than I expected. You’re not hurting still?” When he gives you a quizzical look, you gesture to his chest and ribs. His eyes widen and then he grins.
“I’m JK, remember? Here, I made these special,” he replies, setting a plate of pancakes on your lap. He then pushes off the blanket and sits next to you, setting a plate in front of him. “Do you wanna… maybe take a shower with me after this?”
You nearly choke on your bite, pancake spraying all over the bedspread. “What?” You manage to turn to him and he’s smirking at you.
“I ran home to check on Bam before you woke up and now I’m kinda sweaty. And too tired to wash myself,” he replies, throwing in a quick wink that almost stops your heart, “Don’t you wanna help me wash?”
You groan. Jungkook might be the best person you know but he’s also the most annoying.
Maybe that’s why you two are a perfect match.
“Here,” he says, reaching over to grab the cups from the tray. “Thirsty?”
“Yep,” you reply, taking the cup he’s holding out to you. You sniff it.
“Wait, what is this?”
Jungkook giggles as he takes a sip of his own drink.
“Try it.”
You bring it closer but one sip has you gagging and nearly spitting it out. “Fuck, Jungkook, why?”
He’s laughing, but the moment you look back at him, his expression turns serious. “What? You drink coffee for Tae but not me? I see how it is.”
He starts to get up but you grab his arm. “One sip! I had one fucking sip! You can’t possibly be angry about that,” you yell back, reaching for him. When he turns back around, he’s grinning.
Then he holds out his own cup. You eye it suspiciously and he laughs. “This was yours,” he says, smiling, “It’s hot chocolate. Your favourite.”
He swaps the two cups and pulls you in for a hug.
“And you’re my favourite. I love you, Y/N.”
You’re startled by how suddenly and easily those words fall from his lips. Then you realize you might not have imagined those same words last night.
You wrap your arms around him, feeling the warmth of his hug and the way it engulfs you in a feeling of safety and security. The way Jungkook always makes you feel.
“I love you too, dork.”
so…? did you like it? ♡
#jungkook x reader#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook imagine#jungkook fanfic#jeon jungkook#stay#lilo fics
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Tap Out Vox X Reader
Ok, I am in LOVE with this god dam TV head lookin ass, so here's a quick one shot of him being an absolute Sub! Mess!
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The All-Mighty Vees were the central powerline for entertainment and technology in Hell, but even those three dorks liked to have fun. Sometimes, they would play poker games on their rare nights off that miraculously lined up. Of course, money means nothing to these business partners, so they like to bet on favors. There were times when Valentino would lose to Velvette, who would get to use his studio for a day, or Valentino would get to borrow some of Velvette's actors for a shoot, little things like that; things that would be considered a minor inconvience. Until tonight, that is.
•••
Velvette created a sort of dancing competition program, and it was booming in Hell. The show was spiced up with a stage covered in landmines, falling spikes, randomly shooting arrows, etc. Contestants were judged by their talent and if they came out in one piece by the end of the routine. The season finale was fast approaching, but Velvette was lucky to get a quick game of poker in between her packed schedule. With her cunning and wit (and some cards under the table), Velvette managed to weasle a win from Vox. He was never one to complain about carrying through with these favors, so Velvette took the chance to bring her program to the next level.
"You have to compete!" She declared with pride, her hands slamming on the table, with a sly smirk. "It'll be easy, i'll get someone to train and. but i need a hook for this finale, and your dashin' face would be perfect. And! I'll pair you with my best dancer, eh? How's that sound, love?" She explained, showing no sign of wavering. She clearly had this planned ahead of time.
"Fuck me, Velvette." He squints, throwing his cards behind his shoulder. "Fine.. i guess the publicity will boost viewers on both our fronts- " He groans and crosses his arms over his chest. "- Hate to admit it, but i haven't been tuning in, doll. So, who's this dancer i'm stuck with?"
•••
You arrived in hell after a life of drugs, sex and booze. You always joked about going to Hell. It was obvious you wouldn't make the cut into heaven. What you definitely werent expectingbwas for Hell to look just like the busy and messy streets of the ritzy cities you would party in. With absolutely no shame or doubt, you were quick to work your way up in the industry to work for the Vees. You started with Valentino, working up quite an audience in that field. And he didn't even make a contract! You said yes to anything, so really, there wasn't a point. That grew to helping Velvette with some small rolls in some shows, then moved up to you, performing and acting often. You were the lead singer of a band in your life, and you had quite a few talents hidden up your sleeve. Truly, a perfect byproduct of the Vees. Once Velvette pitched the show to you, you immediately auditioned as always and were quick to get in.
Weeks pass, and you're finally in the top 3 of the show! You were a solo dancer throughout, but with the routines provided, you were required to find a dance partner. Velvette to the rescue, somehow managed to bag the other Vee, Vox himself. You'd be lying if you said this didn't get you excited.
During one of the dress rehearsals, you were finally able to work your routine with Vox. Sure, you've met him before and said hi in passing, even going out with the Vees for some press events, but you never expected to get this close to him. Velvette would provide some amazingly embarrassing footage of his dance lessons. The two of you couldn't help but giggle at the powerful demon, getting so frustrated to music. Still, seeing his towering figure made you siddently nervous to have such intimate contact with him.
He came into the rehearsal space with a black turtle neck and pants, going along with some heeled boots that he'd have to wear during the performance. No matter how nicely those tight clothes hugged his figure, it was immediately disheartened by the scowl on his face. You couldn't help but hold in a laugh, picturing the compilation of videos that Velvette had previously shown you of his many failed lessons.
You weren't wearing much, a lilac cropped tank top and some yoga shorts that almost seemed too small, as well as strappy jazz shoes that you had to wear doing the final performance. This get-up made Vox look you up and down when he finally meets with you face to face. His unethusiastic expressions made him look more childish and grumpy than intimidating.
To you, at least.
"So! Pleasure to work with you, sir. Can't wait to see how you keep up with me." You commented smugly, reaching a hand out for a formal handshake. He scoffs and brushes your hand away before simply walking off to discuss something with Velvette. You crossed your arms across your chest and huffed, letting some random assistant tie your hair up as you glared in his direction.
After Velvette scolded him on something you didn't hear, the rehearsal began. Since your usual style was fast pased and almost always involved some sort of sexual overtone, the plan was to choreograph something intimate to create a sort of power couple for people to route for. This involved a lot of close contact that you and Vox were immediately struggling with. With movements that involved swinging you around, dipping you, and generally keeping you close to his chest, it was no simple task for two demons with a competitive streak.
After hours of eventually getting the choreography down, the main notes involved the constant glares you two were giving each other.
"Hey! You owe me this, I won game night! So make this work, fucker!" Velvette was getting fed up with Vox at this point and there was a scheduled photo shoot for some promo images coming up, so you had to break anyway. You went into your dressing room to change into your costume for the shoot. A slinky red sequence dress with a tightened corset that hugged your hips and stopped right at the point where you had to pull it down every so often as to not flash anyone. Paired with some fishnets and black shiney jazz shoes. It was simple compared to some of the stuff Velvette's had you wear, but it'll definitely draw some eyes when plastered on a big enough billboard.
Finally reaching the studio after hair and makeup battered your face, you got a look at Vox. He wore a white button-up that was neary opened down to his clavicle, where the red belt of a tuxedo hugged his waist, tying your outfits together. He cuffed his sleeves while waiting for some kind of direction. You couldn't help but pause to take in some of his features that you've never seen before. The bare skin of his chest and the strong arms that led into the same blue claws that were just around your waist during rehearsal. He caught you staring and knew exactly what was going on in your head. His first response was to send you a smirk that you couldn't decipher as harmless or not. You both snap out of your gaze when Velvette yells in some directions to push you into the camera's frame.
You were menuvered physically, someone essentially adjusting your position until it looked right. The final pose had your chest flush to his, and your leg hiked up his body as you swung backward to look at the camera. Vox was there to hold you in place by gripping underneath your thigh and having a tight hold onto your waist. It was difficult, but after multiple other provocative positions, the shoot was finally done. The two of you quickly pulled away from each other, smothered by the clashing energy.
"This'll have to do, i guess. Okay, flat face, you're good for today. The next rehearsal is tonight, now shoo." Velvette doesn't even look up from the screen in front of her as she nearly throws the two of you out of her studio. The door shut with a slam after you stumbled directly into Vox. He had grabbed onto your forearms, forcing your hands to lay on his chest to brace your fall. You quickly pushed off of him to stand straight, crossing your arms and stubbornly looking away. The tightened laces of your dress pushed your cleavage up a bit, giving a lovely show for the TV demon that towered over you.
He lets out a sigh of disgust after snapping his gaze away from your body. "Knock it off, will you? You're acting like a brat." He hissed at you, beginning to walk towards the hallway with the dressing rooms. You quickly stumbled in the same direction, attempting to keep up with his long strides.
"Fuck you, Vox! I'm just trying to do my job!" You quickly retorted, finally walking alongside him, your arms crossed again. He takes another quick glance at your body, unfortunately getting caught. "And stop that, you freak! You'vs been eyeing me up all day, you might as well fuck me in the dressing rooms if your so interested in my tits." You snapped at him, but your last response gave Vox a wicked idea. He wasn't one to refuse a challenge.
"Sure, we've got time, doll." He shrugs off the comment as you start to turn into your room. You quickly turned your body to face him, an angry yet reddened expression on your face.
"Seriously, fuck you." You muttered, turning to enter your dressing room. You go to open your door before you're cornered against it by Vox's arms, caging you in. You turn back to face him, trying to appear disgusted even with the heat crawling over your cheeks.
"If you think you can handle it, sweetheart." He smirked down at you, enjoying watching you squirm more than he'd like to admit. It finally evolved into an unspoken game of chicken. You took your doorknob and opened the door, letting the two of you fall in. Aware of your action, you slid back to keep Vox from falling onto you. He stumbled forward while glaring at you, still not planning on backing down. But neither were you.
You grabbed the collar of his shirt and smashed your lips against his. It felt like a cold screen for a moment before quickly melting into the sensation of physical lips. He was shocked by the bold move but has played this game all too many times. It was always easy for Vox to charm or hypnotise his way out of a situation like this, but his competitive spirit was strong. He was quick to lift you up from under your legs and essentially drop you onto the vanity. The wood hit your tailbone with a thud, and you let out a flustered yelp into his lips. Your arms quickly found their way to his shirt, untucking it until it loosely hung around him. He lifted himself away from you but was still close enough for your legs to be nearly draped around his hips. He began to unbotton his shirt that you had so kindly untucked.
"You sure you wanna keep this up, sweetie? I wouldn't want to overwhelm you or worse -" he leaned in, becoming uncomfortably close to your ear. "- injure you before your big show." The threat only made your blood boil, but a flashing light caught your eye. His chest was dark, with glowing blue circuits that occasionally seemed to flicker.
"As if. You couldn't even keep up with me even if i was injured." You spoke smugly, trying to keep your cool while denying the heat pooling in between your legs. He scoffs and starts to undress you, while you assisted. It was aparently a two person job, with an unspoken understanding that Velvette would kill both of you if the dress was ruined in anyway. After it was safely tossed the side, Vox was quick to start running his claws along the curves of your body. You pulled him impossibly closer, your legs nearly wrapping around his hips. You tried your hardest to stifle any response to the claws trailing down the center of your stomach. Finally, you pushed him away, letting your hands lead him to fall back on some decorative couch that was nearby. You were quick to straddle him, feeling the buldge in his pants to gauge how much of an upper hand you had.
"Aw, was the idea of fucking me on my own vanity getting you all excited?" You asked him in a teasingly sweet voice, running your hands along the bottom of his screen, then tracing your hand down towards his pants.
"I could ask you the same thing." He muttered, taking a hold of your hips and pullimg them closed towards his groin. You were quick to lift your hips off his lap, pushing his back fully against the backrest and breaking that contact. You let out a deceivingly sweet chuckle, before planting a small kiss on his neck. His skin really was metal, no matter the heat you felt through his pants. It was cold to your lips, but once you noticed a reaction from him, you just had to keep it up.
His breath became a bit heavier as his hands slid down to your ass, squeezing his clawed fingers into it almost to the point of skin breaking. You tried your best to not let a noise out, luckily your face was hidden in the nook of his neck and his shoulder. Even with his robotic anatomy, his skin was melting with each mark, bite and kiss you left on his chest. The action of covering his chest in the bright red lipstick you wore, brought the both of you closer to together, your hips finally meeting his again. As your chests became flush, you looked back up to him, seeing the eyes on his monitor glazed over, somehow some dewy tears beneath them.
You were winning.
You tilted your head back for a moment, seeing the large mirror from the vanity was directly behind them, leaving the both of you entirely visible to Vox. You tip his monitor foward with a forceful lift, holding tight as you made him look over your shoulder.
"Look at you.. quite a sight, huh?"
You teased in a harsh tone, leaning back a bit for him to see the cluster of marks and stains you left on his collarbone. "What do you think? Red really is your color. You look soo pretty." Your words were meant to piss him off, but seeing how he melted and let out a breathy groan when you called him pretty was an even better reaction. He looked away from the mirror, flustered at the sight of himself.
"Ohh, is Mr. Bigshot here enjoying some tender love and care? Aww, well, all you had to do was ask, baby~" You crashed your lips against his again, shocking him back into the moment, as he held onto your hips to brace himself. You were quick to pull away, leaving him unfulfilled before peppering multiple kisses across his screen and making sure you were to leave as many vivid red lip stains as you could.
"F.. Fuck you..." he mumbled, "fuck this'll be a pain in the ass to get off.." You look down at him from your higher position, an almost dark look across your face.
"Then tell me to stop. Either give up and accept defeat-" you started, beginning to stand in front of him." Or give in. And let me take care of you." You ran your hand along his pants, your fingertips brushing across the stiff tent in his pants. He let out the smallest yelp, not expecting the sensation. You continued to just lightly touch his groin, reaching to fiddle with his belt buckle.
"So? What are you gonna do? You gonna give in? You want me to keep touching you, hm?" You teased, leaning towards his face by placing your hands on his seated thighs. Your bent position left a great view of your ass, still clothed with sleek red underwear and fishnets. He pouted, looking into the mirror momentarily to appreciate the sight. You looked over your shoulder, grabbing his screen to jerk him back to your eye level.
"Tap. Out." You hissed, glaring into his eyes.
"Fuck! Fine, whatever! I tap out.. I-I.. Keep touching me.. i want you to keep touching me." He let out, getting progressivly flustered as he spoke. You looked at him, trying desperately to hide a smirk by biting your loeer lip. Noticing that you still weren't making a move and definitely wouldn't let him take the upper hand at this point, he rolls his eyes and looks towards the ceiling to avoid your eyes. "Please." He blurted out, a cyan hue growing across his cheeks. You let out a confident chuckle, before immediately dropping to your knees in front of him and continuing to fully release his throbbing cock from his already dampened trousers.
"Good boy~ Now enjoy the show, okay?" You let out before taking a hand around the base and sending a long lick up his length, immediately drawing the head into your mouth. You worked your magic, running your tongue in circles around the head and pumping your hand across the rest. The heat of your mouth on his tip and the coolness of the room barely breezing across the rest of his hard on made him shutter. He was looking down at you, instinctively attempting to buck his hips. You were quick to use your other hand to push his hips back down, running your neatly done nails across his thigh to the point of leaving marks, clearly indicating don't try that shit again.
You start to take in more of his cock into your mouth. Bobbing your head to set a nice rhythm, nothing that couldn't finish him off just yet, but enough to make him lose his composure more than he already has. You look up to meet his eyes, seeing him stare down at your work. You slowed to an impossibly slow speed before quickly pulling your mouth away, a line of saliva still connecting your lips to his member.
"That's not what i meant." You spoke strictly, reaching up to tilt his screen back towards the mirror. He did enjoy the pretty sight of you on your knees, but his mess of an appearance and reactions embarrassed him."If i see you looking anywhere else - if i see that you're not enjoying the show-" you squeezed his cock that had cooled from your hot spit hitting the cold air of the room. Almost too tightly. He winced, looking back down at you with a wide concern. " -Then i'll just have to stop. I can't reward that sort of behavior, hun." You sounded almost threatening and continued to tighten your grasp. He reached down, squeezing your shoulder before fixing his weary eyes to look at his wreck of a reaction in the mirror. "There we go! See? Look how lovely you look." You switched almost immediately to a sweet voice, loosening your grip and nuzzling his cock against your cheek, right at the corner of your mouth. "So? Are you gonna play along? Be good for me?" You spoke with hot breath against his member, your lips hovering just over the head. He nodded reluctantly.
"Say it." Another sudden transition from that sweet tone back to a stern voice.
"Nng... I'll be g-good.." he spoke quietly, ashamed that he had to say that while looking into the eyes of his reflection. You let out a sly chuckle, immediately assuming a quick pace. You weren't quite able to reach the base, but you made up the difference in your hand, and your other still dug your nails deeply into his thigh. The combined sensations of pain and pleasure made him whimper, struggling to keep his eyes open and his head foward. Every time you saw him start to lose his computer, you either slowed to a complete stop, ran your sharp teeth across his shaft as a warning, or behan to squeeze at his base. Each warning was enough for him to realize he was losing his attention. As he got closer, still somehow managing to stare into the reflection, he reached for your hair, running his claws across your scalp.
You allowed this, he's been doing so good for you, after all.
Holding his hips down to prevent any involuntary jerks, you began to sloppily cover his cock with your spit, speeding up even more. You needed him. Now. He was quick to let out moans and groans, not very domineering ones, which almost surprised you. He was truly unraveling.
"I-I'm gonna.." he started to say in between breathy moans. As soon as you heard you sped up right until you felt his cum hit your tongue. But as soon as you felt the smallest amount, you stopped and held your grip tightly around his base, not stopping him from finishing but definitely making it more difficult to enjoy. You pulled your head back, catching your breath. You sit up on your knees and pull his monitor to reach your lips, kissing the small amount of his cum into his mouth with your tongue. His eye twitched at the new flavor in your mouth and was quick to pull away, wiping his lips ftom a combination of drool and his own fluids.
"That was good! You handled me so well.. But i didn't give you permission to cum did I? And you ruined my hair." You almost pouted, looking back to the mirror to attempt to fix your hair up as much as possible. You got a good look at his full body and smiled into the mirror. "God, you're beautiful, Vox." You said, your voice dripped with sweetness as you turn a decievingly genuine smile his way. It only made him blush more. The sight made you absolutely giddy. You finally looked down at him, seeing him begin to go soft." Ah ah~, you need to deal with the mess you made, baby." You took a hold of his still twitching cock, moving your hands along it again. It was quick to stiffen up again, but the overstimulation from just finishing drove Vox to lean his head back and let out more breathless moans. In a quick motion, you were back in his lap, just hovering your entrance over his member. You moved your underwear to the side, running your own fingers between your folds and lifting your hands back up to his view.
" See what you're doing to me? You lost your little game, and now, i'm left with this mess." You spoke matter of fact, licking your own fluids off your fingers. You quickly pressed another kiss against his mouth, the mixutre of both your fluids making this an especially messy one. His senses were overloaded. Every now and then, some moans would come out with a slight delay or glitch to them. He placed his hands on your hips, wanting to get at least one victory out of this. With one claw, he carefully ripped the fishnets covering yout entrance before forced himself into you, bottoming out immediately. You shot up, yelping at his sudden courage. Giving you time to relax into him, you gripped onto his shoulders. He led you up and down on his cock, barely guiding you before you began to move at your own pace, beginning to unravel yourself. He tilted his head to look into the mirror again. Seeing you from both angles made him drive up into you harder. He had to admit, it was a great view.
As you bounce yourself on his cock, you take his hand and lead his fingers to rub your clit. He immediately picked up the note and began to run tight circles with the sharp tip of his finger. The sensation made you shiver, his metal like claws a start contrast to the warmth you were amitting. Beginning to hit your g spot timed with the constant contact of his finger to your clit, left you breathy, a moaning mess. He was reaching his breaking point, making his body physically react to yours. Small and sudden shocks would amit from his finger and occasionally through his cock, causing a sensational pain. His voice continued to glitch, indicating how he was about to finish, which you noticed immediately. You slam down onto him, lifting his eyes towards you by grabbing a hold of his neck, lightly squeezing.
"You have to get permission to cum. Got it?" You said sternly, your sudden halt making his leg twitch and shift underneath you. "O-okay.. fine..! Keep going, i'm close-" you yanked him closer.
"Ask. Nicely."
"Fuck... C-can I cum for you..? Please... let me-" his voice began to trail off as you quickened your pace again. "Such a good boy. Okay, but only because you asked so nicely." You praised and tapped your finger against his nose(?) mockingly, then felt another shock run up inside of you. He finished almost immediately hearing those words. You felt his cum fill you up, but you guided his hand back down to your clit to continue rubbing as you kept up your pace. His sensitivity left a twitching static shock inside of you, which was quick to lead you to finish, the heated pain in your stomach finally releasing.
You fell onto him, your head resting on his shoulder as you simply stay seated om top of him. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him. He was nuzzling the side of his screen into your ear and kissing just along your neck. As soon as you regained your senses, you melted into his aftercare. You wouldn't expect him to be so sweet to you after this, but he was holding on to you like his worse fear was you getting up. You ran your hands along his back, enjoying how much comfort he seemed to need so desperately.
The sweet moment lasted for a while, before you pulled away gently and looked up towards the clock near the door.
"Fuck! Rehearsal! Get up get up!" You quickly lifted yourself off of him, before you looked at eachother. Your fishnets were ripped, some small bruises on your neck. He managed to plant a few, but that was nothing compared to the sloppy lipstick covered state he was in. "Ugh, god dammit!" You stormed off and quickly grabned some wipes, scrubbing the lipstick off his screen and chest." Velvette's gonna kill me..!" You groaned, nearly getting everything off.
"Calm down doll, I'll get some people from hair and makeup to fix up this mess." He snapped his fingers, which somehow alerted an imp assistant to knock on the door. You quickly reached for a nearby robe and tied it around your waist just as they entered the room. "-and they will have no problem with keeping this little secret, right?" His eye began to run hypnotic waves as he was quick to brainwash the assistant. You hesitantly sat and let the imp quickly fix up your messy appearance after finding new fishnets and hanging up your delicate dress to put back on later. Vox sat there, his shirt still completely undone, his legs crossed and arms splayed across the back of the couch. He simply sat there, watching you get pampered to perfection again. Every tine you made eye contact with him you began to turn red. Sure, you had the upper hand just moments ago, but the effect this demon had on you was immense, making the immediate poeer dynamic switching back to him.
Once the two of you had cleaned up a bit more, you headed towards the door. He spun you before pressing a quick kiss on your forehead, then turned you back and let you walk out in front of him.
"I told you i could handle it, and it for sure seemed like you couldnt keep yourself together. So, i win!" You clarified as the two of you walked down the hall, back towards the rehearsal space.
"Fine. Sure. Watever you say. Keep telling yourself that.. if that's what it takes to make you do it again." He shrugged off your obviously victory with that dumb invitiation. You punched his arm as the two of you continued to argue. It was still clear to you both. You came out on top this time.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin vox#hazbin hotel vox#the vees#hazbin smut#vox x reader#vox x you#vox#submisive sissy
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Confessions Pt.i
♡ hobie brown x religious!reader
rating. m
word count. 4.4k
synopsis. after years of being missing, Hobie finally returns back to his hometown where his childhood crush still waits for him. but you're more dedicated to God than ever and he couldn't care less. he wants you and he intends show you all that you're missing out on
♡ °｡ ⋆⸜ warning: religious themes, criticism of Christianity, corruption kink, defiling kink, making out, suggestive language, mentions of death
Part. ii
You've always been the model child, the child who attended mass when others wanted nothing more to do with the church, who clutched their rosary at night in fervent prayer and often slept with it under their pillow. You were used to pinched cheeks and smiles at your seniors, twisting your purity ring around your finger when you're nervous.
You had never known sin in your life. The idea of premarital sex revolted you. You prayed for forgiveness whenever you thought someone was even remotely cute.
That all changed when Hobie came back into your life. He had changed a lot since you last saw him when he was just an altar boy. He had left the church for years, his mother still attending and always asking for the father to pray for her son to return to God. He was now wild, feral even, decked out in spikes, something of a permanent scowl on his dark, beautiful lips. His hair demanded attention in the a way that distracted from God. Everything about him seemed to be for the flesh, not for the Lord.
There was a time where the two of you were friends. Your mothers were friends so it only made sense that you would be too. He has always been outgoing, loud, yet kind and pure at heart, holy even. He used to walk with humility and humbleness. It was like he was entirely different person who had walked into mass with his hands in his pockets and a confident saunter in his steps. He demanded attention and jangle if his chains echoed off the walls of your small church. You were always taught to remain quiet and keep your head low.
You quickly turned your gaze when his found yours among the many. Did he even recognize you? It's been so many years. You hardly even recognized him if not for some telltale signs. His height, the slender beauty of his face, a freckle. You clutched your rosary tighter, in your hands– it's milk white pearls wrapped around your hand, the detailed cross with Ch*st hanging pressing into your skin.
You don't look at him as he and his mother sat next to you and yours. He sidled up next to you, an arm tossed along the pew behind your back. He smelt of things you did not know, like sin, like temptation, like Hobie.
"How've ya been, luv?" He spoke after listening to mass and deciding it was too boring for him. It seemed he did remember you, in all your meek shyness.
"I've been fine. I'm surprised you remember me." You whispered, trying not to interrupt, not to get too wrapped up in conversation during church when you should be focusing on God's good grace.
"F'course, I remember ya, dove. Still the prettiest girl in here."
Your cheeks burned softly with the compliment and for it, you you clutched the cross in your hand until the edges of it dug into your skin as punishment. "We shouldn't be talking during the congregation." You crossed your ankles, your mary janes knocking against each other as you prayed a silent prayer of forgiveness. You would not be tempted.
If it helped, Hobie thought you changed a lot as well. When did you get breasts that so obviously showed through your clothing? When did you get so pretty? When had you grown into a woman?
You allowed yourself light makeup, mascara, lip oils that made your lips all glossy and pouty. Your braided hair way pinned back out of your pretty face, caramel and black in color, tied back with a pink bow. You wore a white off the shoulder top and a pink skirt with lace trim at the bottom. White, see-through stockings clung to those chaste legs of yours and your feet were adorned with mary janes, decorated in more pink bows.
He had originally only come to mass to please his mother this one time but if you looked this pretty now, it might not hurt to come again.
After, your mothers were chatting with each other, his mother pinching your rosette cheeks as she always did, talking about how much of a good girl you were, how Hobie was already talking about when the next congregation would be all because of you. "You're leading him back to God, my love."
"Where is he? He never even said goodbye." Your mother looked around for him but he was gone, dipped the moment church was over. He'd be back, he said but you doubted it. His mother waved it off. "You know how the young ones are these days, they don't care much for mannerisms." She looked back to you, shyly standing behind your mother without much else to do besides go home. You were still young, only bordering on 20 and you still lived at home. You couldn't bear to leave your old, peeling, floral wallpaper and your collection of stuffies. Plus, working for a Chr*stian nonprofit didn't always pay the bills.
You wouldn't see Hobie again for another 4 of your congregations before he decided to show back up. He had scandalized the church by wearing a crop top, was the talk of the town when he slid into the pew next to you and tossed his arm behind you once again like you two were close. His body was pressed against yours, his warm skin against your shoulders neck, the smell of musky cologne, the deviating gorgeousness of his face. His finger curled around one of your neat box braids, curled and uncurled, curled and uncurled.
You were wearing a pink camisole shirt with more lace at the top and bottom, and a white maxi skirt with little roses dotting the fabric. You wished you had worn something that revealed less of your skin because you should feel his skin on yours and it made you feel hotter than the sun and more of a sinner than the devil himself because his skin felt so nice and soft against yours and you wanted him to stay right there he was, with his knee touching yours and his fingers playing with your hair. How scant a knee touch could be.
"Who's it goin' t'day, doll?" Hobie leaned over and whispered in your ear. You leaned away from him, muttering silent prayers asking for strength in such rough times. "I'm okay, Hobie… How are you today?" You managed to get out.
"'m quiet chipper actually, my mum jus' asked ya mum if we could hang out again, thinks ya good f'me. Will make me 'believe in God again', 'n allat."
How great, how perfect. Now you'd constantly be in his presence. You'd be happy to spend time with Hobie but this Hobie was not the Hobie you knew. He was a stranger to you. It’s been so many years since he simply ran from home and only recently has he decided to come back into his family’s lives for unknown reasons. You were nervous around new people and in all ways that mattered, Hobie was a new person.
“Well, do you want to believe in God?”
“No’ particularly, no. But I promised mum since I ran away.” He was only 16 when he left, now he’s back at 21 and his mother almost smacked him straight across the face when he showed back up on her door. All these years, everyone in the community operated under the assumption that he had died.
Before the parish began his sermon in which he’d get progressively sweatier and out of breath across the 2 hours which Hobie always used to snicker at, he spoke. “I’d like to welcome back Hobart. After being gone for 5 years, he’s finally returned back home.” Everyone clapped for him, including you, but he just let his hand drop and began drawing circles on your exposed shoulder.
He kept like this through the entire sermon, touching you in some way, shape, or form. He chuckled softly at some of the things the parish said and whispered to you about things completely unrelated. “Le’s go back to our usual spot, doll. You remember?” His warm breath fanned your ear with the promise of something wrong if you go with him. You turned to look at him and found his face far closer than you thought it was, a smirk playing on his pierced lips.
“Would you genuinely listen to what I have to say.”
“I’ll listen to whateva comes from those pretty lips of yas, dove. Every single word.” He was so much more flirtatious now. He had you clutching your rosary every time he was around you, an action that did not go unnoticed. He placed his freehand on top of the ball of yours and your hands fell open beneath his warm palm. You already had scars littering your palms from all your years of grabbing the cross too tight for protection.
“Stop doin’ tha’, you gonna hurt yaself.”
That was the last thing he said to you all sermon.
He stuck around after church this time, his mother with a firm grasp on his wrist to ensure he didn’t go off and disappear again. You hung around your parents, your eyes always wandering about to find Hobie. It was hard not to find him. His height and his hair made it impossible to miss him.
“Mama, Hobie and I are gonna go somewhere quieter. I’ll be back home in time for dinner.” You kissed her cheek and tapped your father’s hand to get his attention before motioning that you were going to go. He was in the middle of deep conversion with the parish. He nodded dismissively and with that, you made your way to Hobie.
“Ms. Brown. Is it okay if I take Hobie with me?” Her grip on her son’s wrist was deadly, out of fear that he may run away from her again. She wouldn’t be letting him go unless she was sure he was in good hands, and in her eyes, yours were holy. “Of course.” She smiled upon you with fondness, her accent of her homeland thick in her voice. “Hobie, be good.”
Hobie shrugged out of her hold. “Yeah, I hear ya.” He tossed an arm around you and dragged you off towards the spot where the two of you would always hang out as children, an old playset that was rusting over by now and couldn’t possibly be safe enough for children to play on. It was a little down the way from the church just in front of a stretch of woods that separated the playground from the creek.
You went to cautiously sit on one of the rusty swings while Hobie dropped himself down without a care. He looked at you, your moisturized skin glistening in gold under the sun. You tossed your hair over your shoulder to better feel the sun on your shoulders while it lasted. The winters in your hometown were brutal at times so any heat was much welcomed on your end.
“Go ‘head then, gimme all the reasons why I should want salvation.” He’s heard it all. Especially from his mother. He had come back an entirely different person and point blank told her that he didn’t believe in a higher power and wouldn’t be attending church while he was visiting. His poor, Jamaican mother, a devout Catholic, acted as if he had just struck her across the face. She cried, she prayed as she does every night to this very day, and she rebuked the devil "who had taken her son" from him.
She had managed to manipulate him into coming to church at least once. And then he saw you. His old best friend, his longest standing crush, and decided that he’d stick around a little longer.
You fiddled with your rosary. "Well, there's nothing I can say to change your mind if you already aren't open to the idea. I'm not here to convince you of anything. But Hobie– why did you leave? We were all worried sick over you, praying that you were safe. After the first year, we thought you…"
“Died? No, I toughed it ou’. “N I didn’t exactly go anywhere. I’d been to so many places that I couldn’t name jus’ one. I jus’ knew I didn’ wanna be here.” He shrugged and drug his boot in the gravel, the rusty sound of the swingset let out a creak every time he swung. “‘M tired talkin’ ‘bout me. How’ve you been, luv?” His voice grew tender when talking to you, his eyes were a touch softer as well, almost flirtatiously so.
Nervously, you spoke of all the things that have happened since he left. “Father has blessed me with a good life. I’ve been studying His word more and I feel closer than ever to Him–”
Hobie pretended to yawn before snickering to himself. “I don’ wanna hear about allat. I wanna hear ‘bout you, not tha’ bloke.” You gasped at his choice of words, the casual blasphemy from his lips, and held your rosary to your chest. “Hobie!” you scolded him and he raised his hands in surrender. “My fault, luv. I forgot you were still brainwashed.” He murmured the last part under his breath. “Tell me ‘bout you. Tha’s all I wanna know ‘bout.”
You didn’t know what to say. Usually talk about how good God is suffices for people. No one ever really wanted to hear about you, they usually wanted you meek and quiet, submissive and innocent in your ways.
“I attended a purity ball soon after you left.” You raised your hand to show off the ring that adorned your finger as a symbol of your purity. “I thought it was the right thing to do. Everyone thought that we would get married when we got older so when you disappeared, I needed to wait for the right man to come along.” You didn’t sound as excited as everyone else around you was. Your mother was happy to dress you up in a white dress and your father was even happier to take your hand and claim you as his until a Godly man came around to take your hand in marriage. But it all just felt weird to you.
“I always though’ those things were fucked.” Hobie admitted. “Gettin’ married to ya dad so he owns you until another man comes around to take ya leash.”
“It’s not like that.”
“How’s it like then?” Hobie raised a pierced brow at you, waiting for a witty response only for you to fall flat. You shift your gaze from his. “It was my choice. I was distraught that you were gone, Hobie.” You twisted your ring around finger anxiously. “My whole life everyone told me that we were going to get married and suddenly you up and left and my life was spiralling.” You babbled, tears swelling in your eyes, overwhelmed by it all, overwhelmed by him so suddenly showing back up in your life with all these questions and opinions.
“You don’ think ya gonna marry me anymore?” Hobie reached out and traced a finger down the scant of your arm. You whipped away from him and wiped the tears before they could fall, looking back to him with hardness in that soft gaze of yours. It was hard to take you seriously with eyes like those and the pout in your lips. “That’s not something to joke about.” You ripped yourself away from him because if you didn’t, you would have shivered under his touch.
“Who said I was jokin’? Remember when would kiss back here after church. You were a little rebel back then.” He pointed to the treeline where the two of you would sit in the grass and innocently peck each other's lips, justifying it by saything the two of you would eventually get married anyway. It was innocent at the time but your face lit up, your cheeks burning with humiliation at the memory. You placed your hands over your face and shook your head. “We were children at the time. We didn’t know any better.”
“Why don’t we do that now?
“Hobie!” You reached over and slapped his arm. A smile stretched across his lips, a smile you always admired. It sparkled with a touch of mischievousness. “What is wrong with you!”
He got up off the swing. “The bible doesn’ say nothin’ ‘bout kissin’. Plus, we’re married anyway, by law of children’s imagination. Tha’s gotta count f’somethin’.” He began walking through the gravel and onto the grass towards the spot where the two of you would sit and kiss. He looked back at you, his expression asking if you would come with him.
You looked uneasily down at your hands with your rosary and your purity ring. He was right. The bible didn’t say anything against kissing before marriage and you’d be a liar if you said you weren’t attracted to Hobie, with his sly smirks and teasing remarks. You stood slowly and made your way over to where Hobie sat, teasing you with an alluring smile and a hooded gaze.
You sat beside him, a great distance away with your rosary and your bible you brought along. You were so nervous you were shaking and Hobie was not blind. “I’m not tryna pressure you into nothin’, dove. It was all jus’ fun ‘n games.”
"I just wanna stay pure, Hobie. I wanna be untouched for my husband. I wanna be a good wife." You couldn't bear the idea of being tainted, of being impure. You shook with the fear of it, tossed and turned in the dead of night worrying over it, twisting and turning your ring around your finger.
You fell back in the grass, Hobie's figure leaning over you as you look at the sunlight streaming through the leaves of the trees looking overhead. You sighed with anxiety, grabbing fistfuls of grass in your hands.
Hobie scoffed at the notion. "You think being a good wife means you have to be a virgin?" You looked at him as if it were obvious. "Of course. I'm supposed to be pure and submissive for my husband. That's how I make it into Heaven."
There was something unreadable on on Hobie's face, an expression that bordered on anger and treaded on distaste. "Luv, you have no idea how…" he trailed off. Brainwashed you are. But he didn't finish. You were right. If someone wasn't open to the idea, they'd never hear you. He had to get the idea across to you in a way you'd understand.
"There are ways to find Heaven on Earth." He told you, laying down in the grass beside you. He lied on his side to face you, a warm hand tracing the round of your jaw with his fingertips to make you look at him. "I'll show you if you let me." His lips hovered over yours and for the first tips you did not retreat from him. Your mind screamed passage after passage at you but your body melted into his warmth and you relented when he pressed his lips to yours.
You were just so innocent. It would be so easy to show you a world of pleasure you never knew existed. You didn't even know how to kiss. You let him take the lead, let him press his tongue to the seam of your lips and nervously parted them to let him intrude upon your sacred body. This was sacrilege, the way his tongue found yours, something far beyond an innocent kiss. His tongue coaxed yours to move like his, gently and with fervor. His tongue piercing pressed against the chaste muscle of your tongue, untouched before in a way like this.
It was messy and uncoordinated, lips, teeth, and tongue all touched and caressed each other, teeth biting lips, tongues soothing the aftermath. Hobie chuckled into your mouth suddenly turning from timid to desperately seeking him out and suckling on his lip piercing, then his tongue, wanting him so desperately.
You moaned softly, a hot feeling growing between your legs that scared you. Did he know, could he feel it, the way you rubbed your thighs together? Was this sin? This feeling of warm wetness growing so steadily between your thighs?
Hobie brought his hand beneath your maxi skirt, his warm against your bare, unsullied thigh. He kept it there, his fingers gripping your flesh, thumb rubbing circles against your pink panties. He must be able to feel it, this feeling you had no name for but felt so good each time you pressed your thighs together.
This had to be wrong, a pleasure of the body, something Earthy, something that would plant you right in Hell. But if it felt this good…
Hobie was the one who first broke from the kiss, leaving you whimpering wantonly, your lips seeking out his until you realized just what you were doing. He was laughing at you and suddenly you felt exposed and embarrassed, biting your kiss-swollen lips. "'M sorry, dove. I ain' mean t' laugh. I just ain' expect you to get so into it." He reached up and pushed your braids out of your face and tucked them behind your ear.
You couldn't bear to look him in the eyes. "I just…I've never felt that way before." It was almost embarrassing to admit.
Hobie frowned a bit. "No' even when you touch yaself?" He's always been a bit forward with his questions but this one has to take the cake. You rolled away from him, so humiliated by his questions that you physically couldn't touch him with such an idea in your head.
"You've neva touched yaself?"
You shook your head. You never knew you could for one, your parents never allowed you to take health class in highschool, the idea of you touching yourself in recent years only made you resent yourself for conceiving such an idea and you had immediately went to the father about it to confess your sins.
Hobie was silent for a moment, thinking about something, you had no idea what, not until he spoke again. "You should come back to my place at the end of the week."
"I can't possibly. I mean– it's not right for two people at our age to be alone in one's house. It's a breeding ground for sin." You sat up with grass in your hair, tugging down your skirt that Hobie had lifted. "We can't, Hobie. It would be ungodly." As if what happened here wasn't just the same. The imprint of your bodies were still imprinted in the grass, pressed against each other, intimate in a way neither of you should have been.
Hobie got up after you and grabbed your wrist. You shuddered at his touch, the hot ache between your thighs making your legs feel weak or maybe it was just him. His lips were less swollen than yours but your gloss was smudged all across them, making you realize that if you went out as you were, you'd look like nothing more than a harlot. You'd have to take time to fix your makeup which was already light to begin with. Too much makeup would make you out to be a common whore too.
"Just think 'bout it, will ya? Jus' f'me, doll." He was so good at persuasion, those eyes of his could turn from predatory to soft and pleading so fast. You wonder how many people he's used it on, from his parents to innocent girls just like you he meant to completely tear apart and defile.
You've always been weak to him, even just a little. You recognized your Hobie in there, despite the clothes and the hair and the confidence. It's not that he's changed, just that he's found himself out there in the world wherever he's been.
"Fine… I'll think about it. But that's no guarantee that I'll go." Your voice wavered in confidence as he approached and took your chin between his finger and thumb and tilted your head upward. He looked between your eyes then down at your lips before bending down to kiss you once more.
You didn't resist him, not one bit. His tongue teased entrance to your mouth but never fully went there. His lips melded against yours, smooth as butter, so lightly you almost thought he wasn't there. His large hands found purchase on your waist, pulling you in close. You were still so awkward about it, you didn't know if you should do more. Kissing like this felt like sex, like sin, like something you shouldn't be doing. But he made it feel so good, made your guilt melt away against his lips.
You told yourself that there was no scripture that frowned upon kissing, that you weren't doing anything wrong. You had nothing to be ashamed of yet but you felt that Hobie had ways to make you do something wrong and make you not even realize it before it was already done.
"Y/n? Y/n, where are you?" You could hear your father calling you and immediately you placed your hands against Hobie in a panic and shoved him away from you, backing away yourself to put as much distance between the two of you as possible.
Hobie smiled at you and used his thumb to clean up your smeared lipgloss. "Jus' think 'bout it, luv. If you come, I'll show ya what real Heaven feels like." You pulled away from him, from his tender touch against your face, holding your rosary-wrapped Bible to your chest. You felt if you didn't, he'd be able to see right through you, see the way your heart raced and leaped. Maybe he’d see how weak you were for him, how you were always willing to go along with his antics as children and now that you finally had him back, you’d do almost anything he asked of you.
“You should really stop saying things like that.” You murmured, marching past him to return to your parents before they find the two of you in another compromising position. Hobie watched your retreating figure, your hips unintentionally swaying with each step.
Fuck all these people brainwashing you, telling you these stories to scare you into compliance, denying you your own pleasure. The only reason he came back to this damned place was for you. He couldn’t care less about anyone else here. He’d take you, defile you, show you the pleasures of the flesh, show you the gates of Heaven right here on Earth in his bed.
His sweet, innocent, little thing. He’d have to show you all you were missing out on.
#across the spiderverse#atsv#spiderman atsv#spiderman#hobie brown#spider punk#hobie brown fic#hobie brown smut#hobie brown x reader#hobie x reader#hobie brown x black!reader#hobie brown x religious!reader
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absolution
words: 10k
warnings: 18+ only! smut, panic attacks, parental loss, kidnapping, established relationship, descriptions of violence
follows the events of the end of season 2/start of season 3
“rafe, whats wrong?” you ask, taking his face in your hands. you can see how visibly on edge he is from the way his eyes are darting around, hands clenching into fists then unclenching rapidly.
“it’s okay, princess, nothing is wrong.” rafe says, using the pet name for you that he always does when he’s definitely done something wrong, like gotten into another fight. he steps out of your hold, which is what makes you realize something is actually going on. he never rejects your touch.
“babe…” you begin, but then you hear it, a distant call. your furrow your brow, turning towards the noise. “what is that?” you begin to walk deeper into the house when rafe stops you by grabbing your wrist, tugging you back against his body.
“don’t go down there princess.” rafe pulls you into a separate room but you hear it clearer now that you're listening for it, a call for help, very clearly in rafe’s sisters voice. it sounds like it’s coming from the wine cellar but you can’t be sure.
“sarah? what is happening to sarah?” you ask, turning to rafe with wide eyes, scared of what is going on. you weren’t sure what to think when rafe texted you late at night, telling you that he needed you at his house asap. you were already freaked out from the drive over, playing terrible situations in your head as your anxiety spiked.
“shh, calm down, baby. just let me explain.” rafe leads you away and your mind is spinning too much for you to think.
“rafe, i’m starting to get freaked out here-” you say, but when he leads you to sit down on the couch, you follow him. you’re sure your boyfriend has some sort of reasonable explanation as to what is going on here because no matter how bad people try to make him out to be, you know the man that you’re in love with isn’t capable of doing all those terrible things he’s accused of.
“shh, drink this tea to calm you down then i’ll explain, okay?”
you realize then that your breathing is too fast, so you accept the tea, taking a sip of the warm liquid, feeling it soothe your throat. you instantly start to feel that something is wrong, and you look up at rafe with hurt and confusion in your eyes.
“rafe-” you begin, and he quickly drops to his knees in front of you, hugging you as you begin to hyperventilate, “rafe, what did you do?” you ask, and your speech sounds slurred even to your ears.
“i’ve got you baby. i’ve got you. i’m so sorry, god, i’m so fucking sorry.” you see him kiss the side of your head but your skin is too numb to feel it. your vision begins to go out and then you slump forward, everything going dark as you lean against rafes shoulder.
--
your blinks are heavy as you feel the last bits of sleep slipping away. you let out a groan and turn into rafe’s hold, realizing you must be on a couch or something as your leg slips off the thin surface. you press your face against rafes chest when your ears make out unfamiliar sounds.
you go to sit up when rafe tugs you back down, but you still get a good enough view of where you’re at.
“rafe.” you turn to him, fury in your eyes. “what the actual fuck.”
“baby, i promise i can explain.” but you’re sick of waiting for an explanation that clearly isn’t coming if he had to drug you last time to get out of telling you. you rip out of his hold and stand up, wobbling slightly as the effets are still wearing off. you look around the room, it’s rusty and small and when your eyes land upon a window, that’s when you realize.
“we’re on a boat?” you turn to look at rafe, who is now sitting up. his gaze quickly drops, too ashamed to look at you.
“you drugged me and brought me onto a fucking boat?!” you scream, running your hands through your hair.
“i had to go, baby.” rafe stands up, trying to grab your hands but you back up away from him, not wanting to feel his touch. “i had to go and i didn’t want to leave you there all alone. i did it because i love you princess.”
rafe must be referring to the fact that your parents died two years ago in a car crash, and rafe was the only person you had to lean on. “fuck you, rafe.” you head towards the door. you turn around suddenly before opening it. “you want to know the worst part?” you continue on before rafe can answer, “is that you thought you had to drug me. that you didn’t trust me enough to just come with you. i love you, rafe.”
you walk away at that, slamming the door so rafe can’t follow, but you know he will anyway. you walk across the grated walkway, looking out and realizing you’re so far from land that there’s none in sight, even far off in the distance. you go to head down the stairs onto the main deck, when you bump shoulders with someone.
“ward?” your heart drops in your chest. he’s supposed to be dead.
“y/n, it’s good to see you.” he says, and you turn to look at rafe, who of course followed you, wondering how long he’s known. how long he’s sympathized with you over losing a parent, how he felt the pain that you had felt, how you were working through the loss together.
“don’t.” you tell rafe when he opens his mouth, tears welling up in your eyes. you turn towards ward, feeling so overcome with emotions. “i’m glad you’re alive.” it’s all you can get out before sobs take over. you turn and run down the stairs, glancing back onto to see ward stopping rafe from following you.
ward has always been nice to you. he helped you get your family home back in your name once your parents died by briefly owning it as part of his real estate business only to sell it back to you for a single dollar. it was when you and rafe first started dating and while you’re sure that had a part to play, he could have turned around and sold the house for almost a million dollars but still chose to help you out instead.
you head to the front of the ship, wanting to get as much distance as you can at the moment. you find a spot against a crate and slide to the ground, your legs still feeling wobbly from the drugs. you look out at the ocean, finding the way the sun reflects off the waves beautiful, but you wish you were viewing it under different circumstances. you’re not sure how much time passes, but suddenly a man comes over to you.
“are you a stowaway?” he asks. you look up at him in confusion. you’re honestly not sure if you are, you have no context as to why you are on this boat.
“why?” you choose to answer back. maybe coming out was a bad idea, but it didn’t seem like rafe was trying to hide at all.
“captain asked us to look for stowaways.” he explains, leaning down to examine you. “i think you should come with me either way, pretty thing.”
you’re honestly getting very hungry so while you don’t want to see rafe (or ward, even if you’re glad he’s not dead), you get up and follow the man towards the bridge. you also have no clue what he will do to you if you don't follow.
“if you are a stowaway, you’re the damn sexiest one i’ve ever seen.” the man tells you as you head up the stairs. your eyes widen and you’re glad he’s walking behind you to not see your expression as you rush up the final steps, opening the door to reveal who you assume is the captain and rafe.
“she is not a stowaway.” rafe puts a protective arm around you, and you let him as the man gives you a dirty look.
“well, excuse me for being thorough.” he holds up his hands in defense. the captain gives him a nod, and he leaves the room.
“sweetie-” rafe says, but you step out of his hold, as comfortable as it feels, how familiar it is to have your bodies touching.
“i’m hungry.” you tell rafe. it takes him a second to get moving, mumbling something to the captain about telling him if they find anyone before leading you out of the room.
he takes you to the mess area and you eat, almost unable to swallow as you hold back the thick tears that are threatening to spill. you give him plenty of silence to tell you what's going on, but he stays quiet instead.
“y/n-” rafe begins when you get up, but you walk away without a word. you head back outside, leaning against the railing.
you catch movement from below and look down to see sarah. “sarah, hey!” you call, relieved to see that she’s alright, but she looks up with a shake of her head and holds a finger over her lips. you nod in agreement. you don’t know what’s going on, but you’ve always liked sarah, despite becoming more distant once you started dating rafe.
a minute after she hurries away you see ward, scanning the deck with a glare on his face. you don’t know all the pieces of the puzzle, but you’re beginning to put a bit together. “ward!” you call out. he snaps his head up to you.
“i’m a little busy right now, y/n.” he says, going to wave you off, but you want to help sarah.
“it’s about sarah!” that gets his attention as he walks up the stairs quickly, taking them two at a time. “sarah? where is she, have you seen her?”
“n-no. i just wanted to ask if she was alright. she was yelling last time i saw her at tanneyhill.”
rafe pinches his nose in between his fingers. “yes, she’s alright. i’m trying to find her to make sure she stays alright.”
“okay, sorry.” you say, hoping your conversation gave sarah at least a little more time. you always admired her rebellious spirit, wishing you had some of it yourself.
--
the sun is just starting to lower in the sky when you hear a message playing over the loudspeaker “attention all passengers and crew, report to the tween forward hull… attention all passengers, all crew, report to the tween forward hull. that’s an order.”
you’re not exactly sure where the tween forward hull is, but you see a few other people walking quickly that way so you follow as the message plays again.
one of the men that you're guessing is crew opens a door, signaling for people to head inside. you follow the group, only pausing when you’re joined by the man who questioned you about being a stowaway earlier. he gives you a smirk that has your stomach turning. you stop suddenly, ducking into a doorway. you don’t want to be in a room with a bunch of strange men, and you don’t see rafe anywhere among the group.
you get a sudden feeling in your chest, one that’s all too familiar. you begin to panic, your hands shake and your legs give out. you slide to the floor as you feel the anxiety attack overtake your body. it’s been too much stress over the past 24 hours, you should have known that this was coming.
you can’t bring yourself to move as you rest your head against the cool metal, hoping you can get it to calm down on your own. if only rafe was here to make it all better. he could instantly lessen your panic with a soft touch and his sweet words.
you’re not sure how much time has passed by the time you can control your breathing. you stand up slowly, feeling your knees shake slightly. you head towards where the men were going but get confused. you head down a hallway, then another, then another, you’re not even sure if you’re retracing your own footsteps at this point or not. the panic begins to set in again when you push through a door and reveal that you’re outside. it’s completely empty from what you can see.
you head out, looking around when you see sarah by the lifeboats. “sarah!” you shout, running over to her. “what’s going on?”
sarah continues working to get the lifeboat into the water. you hear something and turn your head when you see the crane going. “sarah, please just tell me what’s happening.”
“i just…” sarah pushes her hair out of her face. “i just don’t have time, i’m sorry y/n.”
you step back as sarah starts to lower the lifeboat into the water, suddenly hearing yelling as you see the crane lifting a large golden cross. you leave sarah and head towards the commotion. you shouldn’t have run, you immediately regret it when you smack straight into people fighting. you realize quickly it’s jj and the captain, and the captain is holding a machete.
“are you one of them too?” he asks, and you don’t know what he’s referring to so you just stand there in silent shock. he suddenly knocks jj off and throws him overboard, and that gets you moving. kiara, who you just realized was there as well, gives him a kick, and you follow as well with a kick to his back. he falls down to his knees as kiara gives him a kick that should earn her a black belt, knocking him out.
you go to ask kiara what is happening, but she is diving over the edge. you look over to see that she’s holding a passed out jj above the water so he can breathe.
you head out onto the main deck right as a girl you don’t recognize drops the line holding the cross. rafe comes out from behind the crates to grab onto the rope.
“rafe!” you yell, running towards him. you go to help grab onto the line to help him, when suddenly the main rope connecting the cross to the crane is dropped and the rope pitches forward. your hand gets caught and before you can right yourself, you’re falling overboard. you tumble into the ocean, the sudden cold knocking the breath out of you.
it’s hard to tell which way is up as you swim, but you eventually break the surface.
you can hear rafe calling for you but you can’t focus on anything other than keeping your head above water. you’ve never been the strongest swimmer, despite growing up on the island.
“get y/n! she went overboard!” you can hear rafes yells even as the waves pound against your head.
you look up to see two more figures jumping overboard. “y/n!” you hear, and you turn to see sarah approaching in the lifeboat she was lowering earlier. you climb on with sarahs help, realizing pope is one of the people who jumped overboard.
you sit in shock against the bottom of the boat, hearing yelling but not being able to make anything out except for rafe yelling your name over and over again as another panic attack sets in.
the boat begins to speed away as you sit up in confusion. you don’t want to leave, you want rafe. that’s all you want. you see him look over the edge of the boat, yelling your name frantically.
“raaaafe!” you shout as the lifeboats engine stalls. you consider making a jump for it, returning to rafe, but you know that you would sink as you can barely move your limbs.
“y/n shut up!” you hear sarah yell, but you can’t focus on that right now as the engine comes back to life and you speed away from your boyfriend.
you lay your cheek against the rubbery side of the boat, letting sobs overtake your body as the boat gets smaller and smaller. “rafe.” you let out a little sniffle.
“god, y/n he’s not the guy you thought he was.” pope suddenly says. you turn to look at him, confused. “what?”
“he kept shit from you. bad shit. that cross? that belonged to my family and rafe stole it.”
“no, no, he wouldn’t do that.” you say, sitting up and wiping the tears off your face, even as sea water comes and splashes it, wetting your cheeks again.
“he drugged you, y/n, you’re not seriously sticking up for him right now?” sarah says.
“i’m just…” you realize that they’re all very pissed at rafe right now and you really don’t want to try your chances as you being thrown overboard. “i’m just confused right now. and exhausted.”
“aren’t we all.” the girl you don’t recognize says. she sees your confusion and gives you a gentle smile, “i’m cleo.”
“y/n.” you mumble back, pulling your knees into your chest as the sun starts to set, making you shiver.
--
“y/n girl, it’s an island! you’re not going to be able to get it clean!” cleo says as you try to sweep the sand off of the makeshift floor out of felled tree trunks.
“it just makes me feel better.” you say, using the bundle of twigs you tied together as a makeshift broom.
“alright girl.” cleo holds her hands up. “well i’m heading down to the bonfire with everyone else. promise you’ll join us soon.”
“yeah, i will.” you nod. you finish cleaning the floor the best you can before you turn to yourself, grabbing the bucket of seawater you kept up here to put out fires and using it to rub the dirt off your arms and legs. you simply are not made for this type of living. you hate the bugs, you hate eating fish every night, you hate sleeping on the ground, and more than anything, you miss rafe.
“hey guys.” you say when you make it down to the beach, sitting on a log next to cleo, who you’ve gotten the closest to among the group. everyone else formed their little tribe, and it’s like you were the outsider, the only one wishing constantly for home. you thought you and sarah would get along more, but she spends all of her time with john b, pretending your don't exist, a constant reminder of her brother.
“what do you think rafe is doing with the cross now.” pope asks. you visibly jump at the name.
“pope, let’s not…” cleo says, reaching and squeezing your hand.
“i wonder if that fucker is melting them into gold bars as we speak.” pope continues.
“guys, stop.” cleo says more firmly as tears begin to roll down your face.
“she needs to hear this, cleo. it’s not right that she’s sitting here crying over a murderer.” jj stands up for his friend.
“i’m not!” you shout. “i know how you guys feel, damn you make it well known, but it’s hard for me to separate the man i loved, the only person who was there for me when my parents died, with the one that you know. so i’m fucking sorry if i’m sitting here crying over him, if i’m missing him. he was my rock, my everything, for years. i’m not saying you can’t talk shit about him, but at least have the decency to do it when i’m not around.”
you get up and walk away from the fire again, towards the water. the ocean has been your one solace while you are on the island. you’ve been practicing swimming every single day, and you even have tried some of the makeshift boards that john b made. you walk out just so your calves are submerged, closing your eyes under the moonlight as you feel the eb and flow of the waves coming in and then rolling out to sea.
you stand there for probably ten minutes before you hear the splashing of people joining you. you turn to see pope and jj standing there.
“we’re really sorry, y/n.” pope says, with jj nodding along. “it’s easy for us to forget that you didn’t know anything. we shouldn’t be upset at you and we will try not to talk bad about rafe while you’re around.”
“thank you guys.” you say, giving them both a hug. you follow them back towards the bonfire, plastering a smile on your face as you sit and laugh at their jokes. it takes everything in you not to start crying again, but you know that they made a big step apologizing, and you need to show how much you appreciate it.
--
“guys wake the hell up!” you hear cleo say. you sit up suddenly, not really sleeping anyways, just laying on your makeshift bed.
“a plane.” you stand up suddenly as the rest of the crew starts to wake up. “there’s a fucking plane!” you yell.
“we have to make sure it sees us!” you yell, and start joining cleo in running to higher ground. you wave your arms and jump and scream as pope lights the bonfire.
“hey!” you shout as the plane starts to get further away. “no, no, no, no, fuck!” you scream, falling to the ground.
“girl, it’s turning around, get up!” cleo says, and you lift your head to see the plane heading towards the pond. you feel tears running down your face before you even realize you’re crying. you hug cleo as tightly as you can before taking off towards the plane.
you stay back as john b talks to the pilot. sarah gives you a look and you share the same one right back, this guy is sketchy, and the plane certainly isn't in good condition. the pilot introduces himself as jimmy and while you’re a little bit more apprehensive about getting on, cleo seems too excited for you to point out how weird he is to her, so you climb on.
you sit towards the back of the plane, happy to look out the window and keep to yourself. you just want to get back to the outer banks, back to your bed, and hopefully, back to rafe. despite everything the pogues have told you, you can’t damper the love you still feel for rafe. you know it’s messed up what rafe did, but you also know that everything he did was for the good of his family, and for you. he knows from seeing you lose your entire family in one moment how precious it is.
the others begin to whisper, and you lean in to listen. jj thinks that the pilot works for ward. they begin to look through his stuff, and you half heartedly join them, not understanding why they’re so upset. they’re still getting off the island either way.
once they find proof, they begin to form a plan. while jj attempts to put the proof back, jimmy sees, and turns around, letting go of the wheel. you scream as the plane begins to shake up and down. your heart begins to beat fast again as you look out the window in attempt to distract yourself and stop the oncoming panic attack, but all you see is the sea approaching way too fast as you drop altitude.
you accidentally fall into cleo, but she holds you close as the plane suddenly hits the water, going nose first. you black out for half a second before you realize how much water is flooding the plane. you kick open the door and begin swimming out, towards where men are gathering on the shore. you assume they are police and can help you get home.
you ignore any commotion going on behind you and focus solely on swimming towards the beach. you see kie pulling jimmy onto the shore and rush to help her.
“kie…” you begin as you see four wheelers approaching you, who do not look friendly. “we gotta run.”
she nods and sets off towards the town, but theres so many people. “split up.” she whispers and you nod, running the opposite direction, but when you go to turn, you’re quickly snagged around the waist. you let out a shrill scream as you’re tossed into the back of a truck. you try to see if kiara gets taken as well, but you can’t tell.
--
you’re brought into a mansion, directed right up into a bedroom. you try to look around the place for kiara, but you don’t see her. you hope that means that she’s gotten away, but you can’t be sure. there were just so many men swarming the beach within minutes.
a couple of the guys ask you questions but you stay completely silent. you were hoping the men were police, but clearly there is a different power at play here.
“dinner at 8. get dressed.” the man who lead you to your room says before slamming the door. you look around at all the comforts you’ve lived without. you have no clue what time it is now, but you rush into the shower. you’ve been longing for one ever since you got onto that godforsaken boat. you strip down and scrub your skin clean, finally able to brush out your hair. you stay in the shower until the water starts to get cold.
you get out and while drying off find a pale blue dress and undergarments laid out for you. what kind of weirdo has this stuff already available you don’t know, but you get dressed anyways once you’re dry. you admire yourself in the mirror, finally seeing the version of yourself that you’re used to seeing.
you look at the bed but don’t dare sit on it, not when you know that you’d fall asleep and not want to get up from the plush surface. you watch out the windows, trying to memorize the movement of the armed men, until a maid opens the door.
“they’re ready.”
you nod and follow her downstairs nervously. she gestures to an open door and you see a man with his back to you, pouring himself a whiskey. your heart instantly feels a burst of pain as you think of how much rafe liked his whiskey, and then the man is turning around, and your heart doesn’t just burst, but shatters into a million pieces.
“rafe.” you sob, running towards him as he moves around the table to get to you.
“y/n, oh my god, baby.” rafe says, wrapping his arms around your waist.
“i’ve missed you so much.” you sob into rafe’s shoulder, letting your tears wet his suit. “i love you.” you pull away to look him in the eye. “i love you rafe.” because no matter what anyone else said, you do love him, with your whole heart.
“no baby, don’t so that.” rafe holds your face in his hands. “i don’t deserve your love for what i did for you. i’m so sorry baby.” he leans in and finally finally connects your lips in a kiss you melt against him, having thought about this moment the entire time you were apart.
“i love you too.” rafe says when he pulls away for a moment. you both go to resume the kiss when you hear footsteps. you take rafes hand in yours and turn to the door, eyebrows raising up when you see kiara. you were so sure she’d gotten away.
“kie-” you begin, but you see her eyes turn to rafes face, and then your joined hands.
she starts to yell, but a voice stops you. you just now realize there is a man in the connecting room.
“who are you?” rafe asks, and you step slightly behind him, squeezing his hand in fear.
“me? my name is carlos singh.” the man replies. “it’s a pleasure to meet you, mr. cameron, and your lovely girlfriend.” he gives a nod towards you before addressing kiara. “please, come sit down.”
“she doesn’t need to be here for this. please.” rafe says. carlos singh looks you over before giving a nod to the man by the door.
“no rafe, i want to stay with you.” you say, afraid of getting separated again.
“don’t worry, mr. cameron will be returned to your room.” singh says, and for some weird reason you trust him on that. while you wouldn’t trust him with anything else, he doesn’t seem like the person to lie. he’s got too much power to need to do that.
“i love you.” you tell rafe as the man places a hand on your arm, guiding you out of the room. you look back before the door shuts, seeing the hurt on kiaras face and the love on rafes.
--
you listen to kiara and rafe continuing to argue over the diary, like you have since they were dropped back off in the room you were in. they came and watched something by the window, but rafe made you stay back. you jumped when you heard a gunshot, and he quickly came back over to hold you tight to his chest, refusing to tell you what he saw.
“guys, can we just breathe for one second.” you say.
“i don’t even want to hear from your right now.” kiara says with an exasperated laugh. “i mean, we told you every shitty thing your boyfriend did and you just take him back like this?”
“don’t talk to her like that.” rafe says, and then they begin to argue again. you close your eyes, wishing you could drown out the noise.
“shut up!” you yell after a minute, unable to take it anymore. “just shut up. either kiara doesn’t know where the diary is or she isn’t going to tell you rafe. either way we are in the same position. we have to figure something else out.”
you’re delivered dinner a half hour or so later as you attempt to think of a plan. you eat in silence, sitting next to rafe while kiara is across the room. you’re convinced if you could just explain why you forgive rafe that she would understand it. just like she looks out for her family of pogues, rafe looks out for his family. but you’re not in the mood for anymore shouting and when night falls, you begin to prepare for bed after making a plan. no use trying to stay up all night in preparation for something and being too exhausted in the morning to make a move.
“here, baby, i found you pajamas.” rafe says, handing you some clothes so you could get out of your dress. kiara takes the other set into the bathroom and changes before you and rafe go in there together. he helps undress you, peppering kisses all over your body as he does so.
“i missed you so much.” rafe says. “i sent planes out every day to look for you. sorry this singh guy found you first.”
“it’s okay.” you soothe your hands over rafes shoulders, before bringing one up to the back of his head to feel his short cropped hair. “i knew you would look for me.”
“i never should have brought you along at all. it was selfish of me.” rafe pouts, but you kiss the frown off his face.
“your mistake was not telling me everything that happened when it happened. if i would have known, i could have helped. that’s the only reason i was upset. we could have made better decisions together.”
“never keeping anything from you again.” rafe promises as you get dressed into your pajamas. rafe stays in his suit, not finding any clothes for him. you come out of the bathroom to see kiara is already on the couch, turned away with her back to you.
you watch as rafe lays down on the bed, pulling back the covers for you to get in next to him. you pause before you touch the sheets.
“what’s wrong?” rafe asks.
“it’s been… a month since i’ve slept in a real bed.”
“baby.” rafe sighs, taking your hand in his and tugging you gently. you finally lay down against the silky sheets, letting out a soft moan at the feeling of the mattress sinking underneath you. “i promise you’ll never have to sleep on the ground ever again.”
“rafe.” you turn to look at him in the darkness. “our priority has to be getting back to the outer banks, yeah? i want to go home. fuck the gold, fuck the diary, fuck it all. home, please.”
“yes, of course, baby.” rafe says, pressing a kiss against your lips. “i’ll get you home, promise.”
“thank you.” you kiss rafe again, feeling that level of comfort and contentment that you’ve been missing. you let him bundle you into his arms, holding you close to his warm body.
“now tell me all about where you were.”
“well, they called it poguelandia…”
--
“baby.” you feel rafe shake you. “babygirl, you gotta wake up.”
“mmm.” you hum and shake your head no. “don’t want to.”
“i know, princess, i promise i’m gonna get you home soon but kiara just left to talk to mr. singh and i don’t know whats about to happen.” the reality of your situation begins to set in. you sit up, realizing you’re not at home, happy in your own bed.
“so sorry, princess.” rafe says, giving you a kiss as you get out of bed, slipping your shoes on incase you have to run.
“kiara left?” you ask, rubbing your eyes as rafe finger combs through your hair.
“she went to talk to mr. singh. i don’t know what about but i need you to just be ready for anything. no matter what happens though, you keep yourself safe, okay? even if that means abandoning me.”
“what? rafe no.” you shake your head, grabbing his hand. “i’m not letting us get separated again.”
“you have to, baby, if it means not getting hurt. i can’t lose you, okay? i already blame myself too much for holding that fucking cross up instead of diving in to save you. instead, they got you. that’s my fault.”
“you didn’t know what was going on. you didn’t know they’d take me. you thought you’d get the cross secured and then you’d rescue me.”
“i should have prioritized you over that fucking gold.” rafe places a hand on your jaw, raising your head so you have to look at him. “don’t try to make it seem okay baby. its my biggest regret.”
“after drugging me.” you whisper, then let your smile slip. it’s not funny by any means, but god, you’ve been through some shit and your only coping mechanism right now is a bit of humor.
“after that, yeah.”
you’re about to respond when kiara enters the room. “what happened, kie?” you ask, noticing she’s starting to cry. you leave rafes side to wrap your arms around her as she sits down on the couch. you’re surprised she doesn’t push you away.
“we aren’t getting out.” kiara finally says, picking her head up.
“we just need to work together.” you tell kiara, squeezing her shoulders. “we’ll be okay.”
“i’ve got a boat that can get us off the island. back home. we just have to get out of here.” rafe says.
you hear a car engine and all three of you rush to the window, seeing men pile up in the back of the truck bed. “they’re going to find john b.” kiara says.
“and sarah.” you look to rafe.
“as if he cares about sarah, he shot at her.” kiara says.
“what i did to sarah… what i tried to do… that was wrong. i never should have touched her, alright? i know that, so you don’t have to remind me.” rafe begins to pace, running his hand over his head as tears begin to fall. “she was family, i never should have touched her, but i just lose control in moments like that, i don’t know what happens, and im trying, im trying to get better.”
“we know, rafe, hey.” you stop his hand from hitting his own head. “hey, baby, we know.” rafe lets you wrap your arms around him, leaning to rest his head against your shoulder as you rub over your back. “i’ll help you work on it, i promise.”
you give kiara a pleading glance, hoping she will help rafe know that everyone doesn’t see him as a bad guy. “okay, rafe.” she nods.
--
“are you sure about this?” you ask rafe.
“yeah, get in the wardrobe. don’t come out until i get you like we planned.” rafe says, leading you into the bathroom.
“i can help, kie tell him” you say.
“no offense but it’s better if you stay in there.”
“okay.” you concede, sitting in the wardrobe and closing your eyes as rafe closes the door and begins to stage the fight. you try to drown out the yelling, even though you know it’s fake.
you want to scream when you hear the guard and rafe fighting, but after a minute, the door opens and you rush out to see rafe unhurt.
you follow them out the room and down the stairs. you keep tight to rafe, trusting him to get you out and protect you.
“kiara, come on.” you whisper as she stops to take a picture of the painting on the wall. “kie.”
she stops typing and rejoins you as you head outside. rafe makes you stay back for a minute as he looks over the fence before kiara gets an idea and you all take off, running after a truck.
“come on, baby.” rafe says as you all climb over the fence. you barely make it to grab onto the truck, but when you do, the three of you are met face to face with a man sitting in the bed.
“rafe.” you say when he pulls himself up and over the side, punching the man in the face repeatedly. kiara helps you get all the way in.
“rafe!” you say again as the struggle continues, until rafe throws him out of the truck. “rafe, oh my god.” you say, seeing his true power for the first time.
“shh, baby it’s alright.” rafe sits down next to you, seeing how scared you are. “i had to do it for us, okay?”
you nod, but kiara doesn’t look convinced. “for us.” rafe repeats, putting his arm around your shoulders.
kiara peaks over the top of the truck. “we have to cover ourselves, guys. there’s a checkpoint.” thankfully there’s a tarp in the truck. you arrange it over top of your bodies, rafe lying almost completely over top of you, and you know it’s for your protection. you hold tightly to his arm as the car slows. thankfully they just take a quick look in the back before letting you through.
you let out a big sigh of relief when you make it through. “to the boat.” rafe kisses the side of your head. “we are heading to the boat.” he looks over you to kiara, and you nod at him. “kie, we can give you a ride out, drop you somewhere safe.”
“come on, kie, you don’t have a better option right now. i know you don’t trust rafe, but trust me.” you tell kiara.
“okay.” she whispers.
--
“go sit princess, i have to get us untied.” rafe tells you as you get onto the yacht.
you nod and sit on one of the deck couches, stretching your legs that are unused to so much running. “come on, kiara.” you call to her, noticing she’s still on the dock.
kiara stares at rafe as he heads to the helm, but eventually gets on. “can you get the bowline?” he asks her.
“i, i can’t get it.” kiara calls after a moment. “i need some help.”
you go to stand up but rafe stops you, rushing over to get it undone, not knowing how much time you have. as soon as it’s untied, kiara surges towards rafe, shoving him over the edge.
“kie!” you yell, running to the railing, but kiara stops you.
“us or him.” she says, and you know your answer as you jump overboard to join rafe. there’s no way you’re going to do anything to stop kiara. you understand her need to help her friends and don’t want to stand in the way. you trust rafe to get you off the island another way.
rafe starts yelling at kie as she drives the boat away, but calms down as you swim over to him. “it’s okay, rafe, we’ll figure it out.” you say, swimming towards the ladder on the dock.
“she took away my best opportunity to get you home, princess, you should be mad at her too.” rafe says, climbing out after you.
“she needs to rescue her friends… our friends. they’re mine too.” you’re not sure if they would agree with you, especially after kiara tells them that you’re back with rafe,
“they would hurt you if it meant getting ahead.” rafe says, grabbing your hand to lead you off of the dock. he needs time to formulate a plan, but here is not the place to do it.
you rip your hand out of rafes grip. “as if that isn’t all you’ve done to them. all they try to do is survive, and all you have done so far is take. for greed, as if you already aren’t rich enough. you’ve been terrible to them too. don’t act like everything is their fault and you’re innocent.”
“why’d you come back then huh?” rafe asks, stepping close to you so you have to angle your head up to look him in the eye. “why’d you come back if you love those fucking pogues so much.”
“i love you, not them. you want to get better? then you need to see the error in your ways. the things youve done wrong, but i am not going to leave you, especially not for them.”
“fuck.” rafe groans, leaning his forehead against yours. “you're right. i’m sorry.”
you hear a commotion and pull away suddenly. “we gotta go.” rafe says, retaking your hand in his. you run off the dock and towards the town, hoping to be protected by the crowd.
you eventually find an alleyway that you can at least take the time to dry off in, letting the warm air and bright sun dry your clothes out.
“what’s the plan now, rafe?” you ask.
“you leave it to me, okay honey? i’m gonna figure out some food for you first.”
“i can help.” you tell rafe. “i had to figure out how to survive without you, i am not completely incapable.”
rafe rubs his eyes. “i know. i’ve just done so much to you already, i don’t want to put you through anything else. i love you, baby.” he kisses your forehead gently before holding you against his chest. you accept the hug, wrapping your arms around his waist while you simply enjoy that moment alone.
“i know you can help but stay here for just a minute, okay? i’m going to go swipe a wallet so we can buy some food. i know you’re hungry.”
there’s no denying that rafe is right, and while you feel bad having him take from a stranger, you really need it. rafe comes back only a few minutes later with a wallet in his hand and someone else’s hat on his head.
“got this for you.” he hands you a hat as well to help cover your face.
“what did you do?” you ask, noticing his bloody knuckles. “rafe-”
“please, don’t judge me for anything i do until you’re back home. i know you want me to get better but i can’t do that if either of us get retaken by mr. singh. okay?”
“okay.” you whisper. “so are we getting food now?”
“i’ve actually got a better idea.” rafe sticks his arm out for you to take and you accept it, curling your hand around his biceps as he leads you back towards the docks.
“just stand by me and be quiet and smiley okay? you’re my wife, mrs. tompkins.” you realize then that rafe is walking towards a cruise ship. your eyes are wide as you get in line, nervous you’re going to get caught, but you trust rafes charm.
“how you doing boss?” the man asks as rafe slides the hat off his head.
“good. how are you?” rafe asks as he hands over the stolen id, and you give the man the most even smile that you can manage.
“oh, living the dream.” he gives a nod at you. “you got some sun since you took this photo, man. there you go mr. tompkins, mrs tompkins.”
you’re relieved he doesn’t ask to see your id. you give him another smile as rafe leads you up the stairs. “holy fuck, rafe i can’t believe that worked.”
“i know, we’re just gonna have to lay low, okay? i have hisvroom key but i’m sure they’re going to find a phone and call soon. we just have to hope that it’s after we reach the next port.”
--
“thank god.” you sigh as your foot finally lands on north carolina soil.
“we’re home.” rafe kisses your cheek, leading you towards a car that’s going to take you back to your house. rafe has been having people look after it, coming in once a week to clean and make sure nobody has broken in, but you’re only concerned right now about taking a long bath in your own tub and putting on your favorite pair of pajamas.
“i want to spend the next week inside my room.” you say excitedly as you sit down in the back seat of the car, rafe sliding in next to you.
“we can do that, princess.” he smiles, reaching across your body to do up your seatbelt. “i have some things i have to take care of, but you come first.”
“just promise me if you hear anything about john b or the pogues that you’ll help them out if you can. you owe that to them.”
“i will.” he squeezes your hand. “i promise.”
you watch the familiar scenery as the car gets closer to your house, letting out a whimper when your own house comes into view. so many memories with your parents there all came flooding back, and you realize that you’re crying when rafe uses his thumb to wipe away your tears before helping you out of the car. he thanks the driver and leads you up the driveway, unlocking the door and then handing you the key, happy that it’s returning to your possession.
“hi mom, hi dad.” you whisper as you look at the picture of them placed on the entryway table. you pick it up and hold it close to your chest, and rafe must understand that you need a moment, waiting until you set the picture back down to lay a hand against your back, guiding you upstairs.
“will you get in with me?” you ask as you turn the bath on, finding everything in the same place it was when rafe called you over that night, except for the laundry that was piling up in your basket is done, you assume put away.
“of course.” rafe helps you concoct your bath, knowing exactly what you like in it. a hefty scoop of epsom salt, some drops of lavender oil, activated coconut charcoal and some organic flowers and herbs that you love to sprinkle in as well.
as the large tub is filling, rafe helps you undress, peeling your tshirt off of you and tossing it onto the floor. he presses a line of kisses across your collarbone before he connects your lips, reaching behind you to take off your bra. your own hands move to the buttons on his shirt, undoing them so you can slide it off his shoulders.
“sit down for me, baby.” rafe says, and you sit down on the stool in the bathroom, letting him kneel down and take off your shoes, carefully untying the laces and then taking your socks off as well. he rubs the sole of your foot with his thumbs for a minute before you stand up to finish undressing. rafe is quick to get himself nude as well as you take off your pants.
rafe slides himself into the bath first, letting you get in between his legs, thankful the tub is large enough to stretch out. you lean your head against his chest, closing your eyes and letting all of the tension out of your body.
“love you so much, my perfect girl.” rafe says, kissing the top of your head. you smile, a real, true smile that feels unfamiliar because of how long it’s been.
you both grow silent, occasionally moving just to readjust. you take rafes hand in yours after a couple minutes, lacing your fingers together.
“rafe… did they clean my parents room?” you ask.
“no.” he shakes his head. “i told them to leave it alone, not even to dust.”
“thank you.” you whisper, closing your eyes and letting the bath soothe your sore muscles. you know eventually you need to venture into their space, but it’s still too fresh for you. you also know that when it is time, you’ll have rafe by your side.
rafe brings his hand up to your shoulders, and you sit up a bit as he massages them, and then down to your back. rafe always takes such good care of you, you see every good thing inside of him that he only lets you view.
you turn around suddenly, pressing your lips against rafes. “you’re not a bad guy.” you tell him.
rafe goes to shake his head, but you stop him. “you’re not a bad guy, rafe. a bad guy would have left me when my parents died and i wasn’t able to get out of bed for a month. a bad guy wouldn’t care so deeply for his family that he’d do anything for them. you’re not a bad guy. i see your heart.”
rafe tugs you onto his lap, holding you close to his body, letting a few tears fall. “i see you.” you whisper, wrapping your arms around him. you stay close until the bathwater starts to cool down. you finally pick your head up and give rafe a gentle smile.
you both get out of the bath and rafe insists on drying you off, gently patting the towel over your arms, torso, and then legs. you quickly blast your hair with a hairdryer just so it isn’t completely wet for bed.
it’s so natural, this routine with rafe. it's almost like the past two months never happened, like your life was never changed forever that night he texted you.
you head into the bedroom, rafe following quickly behind you. you get out your favorite pair of matching pajamas. your parents had a tradition of gifting you pajamas every christmas eve, and it continued all the way up until you were an adult. your favorite pair is now the last pair they will ever get to give you. you hug them close to your chest but don’t put them on yet. while you’ve reconnected with rafe, there’s a way that you haven’t reconnected yet that you’ve been craving, needing to finally feel right again.
“baby, we don’t have to.” rafe says as you set your pajamas down on the nightstand for after.
“i want to rafe. i want you.” you kiss him, pressing your bare body against his.
“if you’re too tired…” rafe begins, even as you feel him swelling against your abdomen.
“i’m not. i promise. i need this rafe.”
“on the bed then, princess.” rafe says. you smile and let yourself fall onto the bed, arranging your head so it’s on the pillows. even though you’ve slept in a bed since you left, there’s nothing like your own. you can practically feel the way it molds into your body.
rafe hovers at the edge of the bed like he’s steadying himself mentally as he looks over your body, the scar on your hip from when you fell on the island bringing a whole new pang of guilt, but he pushes it down, for you.
“my goddamn perfect girl.” rafe says, getting on top of you and kissing your lips, gently at first, before deepening the kiss. you groan when he pulls away after a minute. you could kiss him forever, but he quickly makes up for it by kissing along your jaw, then your neck, taking the time to suck a hickey onto the sensitive skin.
you shiver at the feeling of getting marked by him. rafe continues lower, taking your breasts into his hand as one of his tongues laves over your nipple, hardening it into a stiff peak before sucking it between his lips. here closes his eyes and relishes in the feeling and the taste of your soft skin.
he keeps his tongue against your chest as he switches to the other side, repeating the action on that breast. he takes a second to press his head against your chest, right over your heart. he listens to your heartbeat, the one that he almost lost because of his actions. he turns his head and presses a kiss there. a silent vow. to never put you in harms way again.
he moves lower, laying himself between your legs. he takes a moment to rub his thumb over your scar. it’s just a light pink scrape now, made by a sharp but small rock. rafe kisses it as well. he would kiss every inch of your body if he wasn’t so drawn to between your legs.
he knows he should be more patient. more gentle, but when you spread your legs wider for him, he presses his tongue directly against your core, lapping up every drop of wetness that had gathered. you let out a moan at the sudden feeling, not expecting rafe to dive into your pussy that quickly.
“love this taste.” rafe mumbles before licking over your clit. hes going to take his role as a boyfriend even more seriously after what he put you through. give you every ounce of pleasure that he can, and even that won’t make up for what he did. not in his mind. he will be forever trying to apologize.
“rafe, oh my god.” you moan as he sucks on your clit like it’s his favorite candy before flicking his tongue over it. it’s been so long since you’ve had any action that you know you’re bound to cum too soon, but you have plenty of time to go at it over and over again with rafe now that you’re home.
rafe presses a finger against your entrance, not wanting your hole to feel left out as he pays special attention to your clit. he looks up at you for permission, and you give him a quick nod.
rafe takes your clit back in his mouth as he begins to press in, feeling your tight warmth envelop his digit. he keeps it still inside of you for a moment, not sure how much extra attention and time you will need before taking his cock. you haven’t gone a week without sex since you started dating, it’s certainly different now and he doesn’t want to accidentally put you through any pain.
he waits until your body relaxes completely before he starts to pump his finger inside and out. in an effort to not overwhelm you, he gives your clit a kiss and then turns his attention to your thighs, giving them some love as well. you appreciate the break in the stimulation, knowing you would have cum far too quickly for your liking.
“hows it feel? we can stop.” rafe asks, checking in on you.
“no, don’t stop.” you say, gripping the bed sheets. “add a second finger, please.”
rafe smirks, loving that you’re as desperate for him as he is for you. he is careful about adding a second finger, letting the thumb of his other hand rub over your clit ever so slightly as he does so, that way you stay relaxed.
when he finally gets both fingers pumping inside of you, he can’t resist the urge anymore, licking around his fingers to collect as much of your slick as he can on your tongue. he wasn’t kidding when he said he loves your taste.
“raaafe.” you moan, having resisted the urge to direct him to what you want, but you can’t anymore, taking his head in your hands and guiding his mouth to your clit. you feel rafe smirk against you for the briefest moment before his mouth parts and sucks your bud in between his lips.
you close your eyes, as much as you want to enjoy the sight between your legs, you’re simply in too much pleasure. rafe keeps his sucking soft at first, but he intensifies quickly, needing to be inside of you.
“close!” you warn rafe. it’s all you can do before he has you cumming, hips lifting off the bed as your body shakes, muscles tightening as he continues to pump his fingers through your orgasm. stars shine in your eyes as you blink them open, looking down as rafe gives your clit a few more kitten licks.
“are you ready for me?” rafe asks. you wanted to ride him originally, but your body is so blissed out you know you’re not capable of it.
“ready, rafe.” you say with a nod. he drapes himself over your body, sliding his cock over your soaked pussy, coating himself in your juices.
“shh.” rafe tells you when you let out a whine, wanting him to hurry up. “be patient pretty baby.”
fuck patience, you think to yourself, reaching down and taking rafes thick cock in your hand, pressing the head against your entrance. he takes over from there, your hand dropping away as he presses inside of you. you moan at the feeling of pure togetherness. rafe lets out a deep moan as he pushes all the way in.
“just… hang on for a sec, babe.” rafe says, closing his eyes and taking deep breaths as he controls his sudden urge to immediately cum, but he knows he has to give you your pleasure first.
you accept rafes kiss when he bends down to connect your lip, letting out a sudden moan when he begins to move, thrusting in and out of you at a rapid pace.
“fuck, yes, yes.” you cry out. you grip onto rafes shoulders, hoping you don’t hurt him as you squeeze tightly, needing to hold onto him as his hips press into yours.
rafe lets out a series of moans as you tighten your pussy around him. you’re so sensitive, the way he is hitting your clit with every thrust.
rafe presses his lips to your neck, more using it as a block for his constant moans than to actually kiss it. you close your eyes, relaxing into the feeling, the feeling of being joined together with rafe, of seeking pleasure in each others bodies.
“gonna take care of you babygirl.” rafe says, and you know he means more than just bring you to your orgasm.
“never gonna hurt you ever again.” the intensity of his thrusts increase, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.
“never gonna let anyone else hurt you ever again.” he gives your neck a nip with his teeth. “you’re mine.” a hard thrust. “you’re mine to protect.”
he brings his head up so he can connect your lips together, letting all of his passion and frustration out in your kiss. “you’re mine to love.”
“i love you, rafey.” you tell him. you never want to stop telling him.
“i love you, baby.” rafe says, wrapping his arms around your waist as his thrusts increase, pressing so deep and hard into your body that you feel like you’re splitting open.
you drop a hand to rub at your clit when you feel his cock start to pulse, signaling that he’s close.
“cum in me.” you ask rafe. you haven’t been able to take your birth control, but you’ll have him run out and get you a plan b in the morning. you need to feel him fill you up.
“are you sure?” rafe asks, face straining and veins popping as he holds back his quickly incoming orgasm until you give a nod of approval. rafe explodes in a burst, letting out loud moans and grunts as he rocks his hips into yours. the second you feel his warm cum, you also cum, fingers rubbing aggressively over your clit as it pulses, sending shocks of pleasure over your body.
you come down from your orgasm together, rafe slowing his hips and the eventually pulling out, smiling as he watches his cum start to drip out of your pussy, but he cleans it with a towel on your bedside table before it can get the sheets anymore dirty.
“want me to clean you up?” rafe asks as you stretch, knowing you need to go pee.
“i can do it.” you kiss rafe gently before heading into the bathroom. once you’ve taken care of your business you head back out, giggling at rafe already having his eyes closed and head against the pillow. you pull on your christmas pajamas before laying down next to him.
rafe tugs you tight to his body, letting you rest your head against his chest. “i love you rafe.” you tilt your head so you can kiss his bare skin. “thank you for getting me home.”
“i love you more, princess.”
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The sun and his flower
word count; 2133 – f!reader
Hinata never really got into driving. He took his driver's licence, but never got around to buying a car after returning to Japan. So when the snow fell overnight and he overslept for practice with the Black Jackals, he had no other choice but to leave his bike and hop on a bus.
And he would forever be thankful that he did. Because that morning was the first time he saw you. You sat closer to the front of the bus, in one of those unfortunate seats turned the other way, so Hinata could watch as you bopped your head carefully to whatever music you listened to and stared out the window. Your movements didn’t quite match up with his own music, which he found annoying so he turned his off. Who still uses earbuds with a cord? he thought as he watched how the cord was tangled in with your scarf.
Even though he didn’t know the names of any particular flowers, he started comparing you to them.
So he kept catching the bus, often running briskly to the bus stop just to make sure he could get on the right one, even if it was a bit early or a bit late.
Sometimes he got a seat where he could see your face, sometimes he had to pretend to adjust something to turn and catch glances at you, and sometimes he could only pout at the top of your head over the seat. Nonetheless, he started imagining what you did after stepping off the bus. Were you a student? A florist? A musician? Or maybe you worked in some office, like Kuroo.
You always got off before him, the same stop every time, and his eyes would follow you until you were blurry because the bus moved and then you were out of sight. He would then slump back in his seat, putting his headphones on for two more stops until he could get off, jogging to make up for the warm-up time he missed.
“You ever considered getting a car?” Sakusa asked him one day as Hinata shuffled into place beside them where they were finishing warm-ups while he started them, beginning with his thighs while Sakusa rolled his shoulders back into place.
“No,” Hinata answered sharply before chuckling, struggling a bit to keep his balance in the pose he used. “I mean, the bus is cheaper.”
Atsumu scoffed. “As if money for a car should be a problem, ya can get a little golf or something if yer so worried,” he said, jumping in place to loosen up his muscles.
“I could get a car, but I don’t really need it. Think of the environment, Tsumu.” Hinata teased back, switching legs as Bokuto came from the bathroom.
“Sho!” he cheered, not minding any conversation they might have had before. Hinata kept on with his warmup beside the net while they started with Atsumu setting for their spikes. Sakusa made little comments and quickly, everyone forgot about the previous conversation. Finally, Hinata was ready to spike. Atsumu set up a few for him before they were told to get ready for team practice, everyone taking a break to fill up on water.
As Hinata dried off his forehead with the bottom of his shirt, he sighed. “Actually, there’s this girl,” he said, stopping when he heard someone gasp dramatically, not sure which of his team members it was as he continued. “On the bus, she’s really pretty.”
“Don’t be shy, tell us about ‘er,” Atsumu encouraged, leaning his arm uncomfortably on Sakusa’s shoulder, a motion that was quickly denied.
So Hinata did, he got up from the bench and with unnecessary gestures, he told them about which stop you get off at and detailed the colour of your hair. He had a small discussion with himself about what word to use for the colour of your eyes, and then when he finished he looked at his friends with the sweetest smile.
Bokuto, ever the optimist, nodded encouragingly. “And?”
Hinata’s nose scrunched. “That’s it. We haven’t talked yet.”
“You take the bus every day just to stare at her? That’s not creepy at all,” Sakusa said sarcastically, ending the conversation on that note as they were called back to the court.
You didn’t mean to. Your eyes usually stayed on the scenery passing by, making up scenes in your head based on whatever music your shuffled playlist handed you, so you didn’t mean to make eye contact with the orange-haired guy when you were on your way off the bus. He sat in the seat closest to the door, and when your eyes met his, he smiled. You could have sworn it was cloudy outside, so why was the sun sitting on the bus with you this whole time? And why didn’t you notice it before?
The moment was cut short as more people were getting off, some burly man bumping your shoulder to get off and naturally pushing you along as you realised it was indeed drizzling outside. By the time you turned around to seek his warmth again, the bus doors were closing and the bus carried your sunshine away.
The day after, the volume on your earbuds was a bit lower as you stepped on the bus, looking around uncharacteristically and deflating when you realised there was no orange hair in sight. So you sat down in the seat behind where he sat yesterday and got back to looking out the window.
It wasn’t until four stops later that someone sat down beside you, and you frowned when you looked forward and saw that the bus wasn’t that full, so then you turned to whoever sat beside you. And there he was, warm just like the last time you saw him.
“Sorry, is it okay if I sit here?” he asked, loudly enough to disturb other commuters, but you couldn’t hear while your earbuds were still in. Your eyes zeroed in on his cheeks where there were tiny freckles kissed by a soft red flush, probably from running to the bus stop or something. Then you looked down, noticing how his lips were moving before his tongue ran between them, oh.
You picked your earbud out before tucking some hair behind your ear so you could see him properly, taking in a quick breath. “Sorry! What did you say?” you asked, corners of your lips tilted up.
Hinata chuckled, skipping the question of whether or not he could sit there. “What are you listening to?” he asked instead, pointing to the earbud you were rolling between your fingers.
You hesitated for a second before simply handing the earbud over, an inviting glint in your eyes as you silently let him indulge in your privacy. He smiled even brighter, making you squint slightly before he took the earbud and put it in his ear, subconsciously leaning a bit closer so he wouldn’t pull yours out.
And as he started slightly moving his head, you wondered what he was so happy about so early in the morning. If the sun’s brightest time is midday, why does it feel like it’s right here at 06.47? You chuckled silently under your breath, wondering if everyone else on the bus felt his warmth too. “I like your smile,” you said before you could stop yourself.
Hinata really liked your music, it suited you and at the same time, it was nothing like what he imagined. He didn’t listen to music that often, preferring to listen to his breathing and nature while jogging, but he could get used to this if he could share it with someone. With you.
When you took the initiative to talk more, he almost felt shy about it, lifting a hand to the back of his neck. “Thank you. I like your music,” he said, wanting to compliment you back but feeling like he couldn’t just say I like you. Because he did, he knew so little about you that it wasn’t easy to pinpoint anything, but he just liked you.
Eventually, you had to get off, so Hinata scrambled out of his seat, making your earbud fall out. Now he stood beside the seat, the two of you still connected as you held your phone and he had the earbud in. Quickly, he took it out and apologised, to which you told him not to worry before walking past him and in the heat of your fluster, you didn’t even say goodbye. You didn’t even catch his name.
The next time you sat down on the bus, you were determined to do better, exactly how Hinata was yesterday as he braced himself to talk to you. When Hinata once again stepped on the bus at his usual stop, you lifted your hand and waved at him, making him smile and come over to sit beside you. “Hey!” he greeted cheerfully.
“Hi,” you responded, very aware of your upper arm pressed against his even if there was space enough not to. You handed over one earbud for him, taking in a deep breath of courage. “You never told me your name.”
Hinata took the earbud but didn’t put it in his ear. “Shoyo. Hinata Shoyo.” He mentally cursed at how he sounded like James Bond, but every other thought dissipated when you responded with your name. He liked it. He looked at you, noticing how prettily your eyelashes swung out at the edge and how he could finally decide on your eye colour now that he saw you up close. “Pretty,” he whispered, not sure if he was talking about your name or just you.
You blushed, turning away for a moment and then looking back at him, wondering the same thing as he did. “What do you do, Shoyo?” you asked, letting his name roll off your tongue like a sour candy you weren’t sure you could handle but still felt tempted to eat up.
“I’m a professional volleyball player,” he answered, looking proud. Your eyes widened, lips parting in surprise.
“Really? That’s so cool!” you said, making sure you didn’t talk too loudly and disturb others on the bus. You were amazed and naturally let your eyes browse down to get a glimpse of his physique. Professional athlete. “I don’t know why I thought professional athletes didn’t use public transport.”
If you asked his teammates, they don't, he thought. Hinata nodded, mindlessly twirling the earbud in his hand, which made you take yours out and tug on the cord to put it away. “And you? What do you do?” He bit his lip lightly in anticipation, every one of his theories flashing by in his mind. He checked the screen to find it wasn’t that long until you had to get off.
“It’s boring, I work in a cafe,” you said, nose scrunching at how lame your job was compared to his.
“You don’t like it?” he asked curiously. You hummed a short tone, thinking about it.
“I kinda love it. It’s just not as cool as being a volleyball player,” you said, emphasis on the last words, which made Hinata huff out a short laugh. “I’m not sure what I want to do yet.”
“If you like it, it’s cool,” he said like there was no use arguing. And you suppose it wasn’t, because you should in fact enjoy these years of your life where you’re still figuring things out. “Can I come with you?”
You blinked at him, looking from the front of the bus and back to him. “Yes? But weren’t you going somewhere?”
“I don’t even have work today, I just got on the bus to see you,” he admitted, and you hoped your gleeful laughter covered the sound of your heartbeat.
Now you’re together all the time, but you’re not always on the bus. You’re at the cafe, taking a break and sharing a piece of cake, you’re in the park either talking and laughing or having him show you how to play volleyball and laughing even more, you’re at his place and kissing on his couch after not seeing each other all day while your music plays softly on the speakers, you’re at his game to cheer for him and then meet all his friends and perhaps even family, and you’re in a restaurant when he gives you a little silver ring to promise you two stick together even while figuring things out. Things like how to open a brand new cafe in Brazil after he airs the idea of moving back there.
Because the two of you just wanted to be together, like how flowers always seem to reach for the sun and the sun does its best to keep them warm in the limited time it has.
masterlist
/tags @hotvinimon @makkir0ll
#haikyu x reader#haikyuu#haikyu#fanfiction#hq#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#haikyuu fluff#haikyu fluff#hinata shouyou#hinata shoyo#haikyuu shoyo#hq shoyo#shoyohinata#shoyo x reader#hinata#msby#msby black jackal#haikyuu msby
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I kept thinking about this so I just had to write it out! I also made a little blurb under the cut with a gn!Tav. Let me know your thoughts and feel free to add on!
Rolan with Early Greying Hair
When he discovers his first grey hair, he's almost devastated.
He's still young, he isn't supposed to greying yet, but it seems the stress of everything he's gone through is catching up.
At first, he started plucking them out when he spots them, willfully trying to ignore the fact he's greying at all. When plucking became a little painful, he tries a little bit of dye instead.
Unfortunately, the dye he used changed the texture of his hair to the point it was noticeable, so he ended up washing it out.
They're more visible on the sides of his temple, so he shifts his hair more loosely in hopes of hiding them.
Of course he's insecure about it! What in the hells will Tav think of it? No doubt they would find it unattractive!
One day, as he shares a bath with them, they finally notice them as they wash his hair.
He feels them gently pull his hair back to get a better look, and he immediately thinks of the worse case scenarios.
He'll speak up, going on a small ramble of how he's tried plucking them out but they keep coming back. He'll promise to find proper dye to hide it better.
He's shocked when he turns his head towards them and see a light blush on their face.
"I actually think it's attractive. Grey looks wonderful on you," They say. He would genuinely think they're joking, but they seem utterly sincere.
Bonus Points: Tav reveals their own gray strands from the stress of their adventure.
The sigh of relief that comes out of his mouth made him realize how tense he was about up until this moment. It embarrasses him how worked up he got over it.
He's still desirable to them; he's always been desirable. He just got too wrapped up in his own anxiety.
Maybe he should stop worrying about how he looks and realize Tav loves him, grey hairs or not. They seem to love the greys, and that's all he needs.
Writing Blurb
Even as Tav massages his shoulders, he can't make himself relax in the hot water he drew up for the both of them.
He's tried everything he could to mask what he identifies as his shame; plucking, dyeing, wearing his hair a different way, but nothing can ever hide the fact that he's greying already.
Gods damn it all, he's still young! At least young enough that greying at his age is strange. His life has been absolute hell, no pun intended, and now it's hitting him with another problem, and he can't catch a break. Of all the hurdles that could possibly be in his way after finally living comfortably, this is the one life decided to throw at him? Absurd! Horrendous!
Tav doesn't know about the greys, and he's worried about them finding out. What if they don't find him attractive because of those pesky hairs refusing to disappear?
He doesn't even notice Tav pausing as they pull his hair back. When he does, he sees them looking at the sides of his temple; his anxiety spikes in that moment.
"I've tried plucking them, but they keep on returning," He rambles immediately, trying to salvage Tav's nonexistent disappointment. "The dye I tried almost ruined my hair. I'll look for a better quality one, and then they will-"
"Rolan, I love them." Tav interrupts him with a smile, face flushed.
The water splashes from how fast he shifts in the basin, staring at them in shock.
They continue on, running his fingers through his hair to get a better look and using their other hand to cup his jaw. "Grey looks great on you."
He leans into their palm, sighing. "I thought you would be...I don't know," he says with a small huff, eyes fluttering close.
"I find it hot."
That makes him bark out a laugh. "Must you always be so vulgar?"
"Calling something about you 'hot' is not vulgar! Prude." They tease, kissing his forehead and then his nose, finally landing on his lips afterwards.
There will probably be a longer conversation about his previous insecurity when they get to bed, but for now, he knows just how loved he is, greys and all.
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Borrowed and Blue
Pairing: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader
Summary: In another brilliant plot to keep the agency afloat, Lockwood decides to marry you for tax benefits. Only he seemed to have forgotten to let you know. With an inspector from DEPRAC coming to ensure the legitimacy of your marriage, what’s left but to tell you the truth? Only you don’t take it too well. And you happen to be the world’s worst liar.
Warnings: Cursing, Minor angst, Unedited writing.
A/N: So “Lover” coded that I had to indulge myself with the title.
Word Count: 3.1k
“Luce, I’ll need you to go to Satchell’s and pick some salt-bombs; we’ve been running pretty low lately. And George, once you’ve hit the Archive for the day, if you could–”
As Lockwood’s incessant directions continued, you allowed your head to slump forward so as to obscure his looming figure with the shape of the quickly cooling mug in your hands.
“Oh, and that reminds me (Y/N), the inspector’s coming round this afternoon to ensure the validity of our marriage, so I’ll need you to be prepared for that.” That sentence alone was enough to pull you away from your own thoughts.
“Excuse me?” The question was followed by a soft chuckle, the kind you only managed when you’d been caught off guard.
“Did I forget to tell you about the visit?”
“You’re joking, right?”
Across the small table, George cleared his throat awkwardly, moving to make his escape before Lucy’s sweater-clad arm shot out, pulling him back into his seat, fully enthralled with the happenings before her.
“Lockwood?” From his place at the counter, he hummed back in response. Still, the brunet had busied himself at an unprecedented pace with making a piece of toast and refused to turn his head in acknowledgment.
“This is a joke, right? Because I would know if we were actually married, right?” He made no answer, but his avoidance of your gaze had already been enough to send you over the edge, and you nearly reeled as a physical spike of panic shot through your core.
“Anthony Lockwood, you answer me right now.” You were standing now and teetering on the edge of making your way out into the entry and returning with some choice words and your rapier.
“Well, it’s not like you missed the marriage. I did bring you along.”
“What?”
“You remember that day I brought you with me to the Register Office?”
“You said you needed someone to co-sign the water bill.”
“I gave you a ring–”
“You said you got that out of one of those coin machines full of toys! I thought it was just a silly gift!”
“Right, well, I’m not buying you another wedding ring, so you had better still have it.”
“Lockwood! You can’t just marry someone without asking!” By now, you had left your seat to jab angrily at his chest as you marked each new point. From her place beside George, Lucy slurped at her tea.
“Look, I had already mortgaged the house to hell and back, and we needed the money desperately, so I figured an extra tax write-off couldn’t hurt.” And though it shouldn’t have, the rage quelled itself a little.
“Why didn’t you just ask me?” But your voice lacked the anger from before, hitting sharper as each word was tinged with hurt.
“You would have said no. And besides, you’re a terrible liar.” Lockwood flashed you with his signature smile at that last bit, and you couldn’t help the warmth that began to bloom deep within you. You had to admit, being married to Lockwood wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Especially with the insufferable feelings you’d been housing for the boy for the last year and a half. Still, this was not how you wanted things to go.
“But wait, that trip to the Register’s Office was at least a year ago. Why are they coming for a visit now?” One of Lockwood’s hands which had planted itself on your shoulder in a soothing gesture, leapt up to scratch at the back of his neck.
“Well, the thing is, because we aren’t legally adults and neither of us have any parents to sign off on a marriage, I had to pull some strings with DEPRAC to get the license to even go through. So now, every year, to make sure everything is all legal, or whatever–” Lockwood raised his hands to form air quotes around the word legal but quickly retracted them as you swatted at the gesture.
“--they’ve insisted on sending an agent to perform a kind of check-in. To make sure we’re still in love and all that.”
“Still?” George questioned, only to be met with a prompt smack to the head from Lucy.
“So are you saying we could lose our jobs over this?”
“Let’s not forget the house,” supplied Lucy from behind her mug.
“And the house?” Lockwood didn’t answer immediately, instead selecting to fix his eyes on the floor.
“Presumably, yes, that could be one outcome–”
“Oh my god,” George groaned, moving his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose.
“But not if all goes well,” Lockwood reassured the group.
“Right, so let me get this straight, the fate of our careers–”
“And our home,” Lucy interjected once more.
“And our home, is all in the hands of (Y/N), a notoriously bad liar, lying to a Fittes agent about a marriage she was unaware of until this morning?” George questioned.
“That would be correct.”
“We are so fucked.”
It had taken Lucy an hour to calm you down, let alone lure you out from under the covers of your shared bed.
“I’ll kill him if you’d like me to.”
“Urgh, it’s not that, Luce, it’s just–”
“It’s just that you wanted things to go differently?” Lucy raised a suggestive eyebrow as a slow smirk spread across her face, but there was no malice in her look. Embarrassed, you turned to hide your face in the pillow beside you.
“Look, Lockwood’s a twat, but he cares about you, and I’m sure if you asked, he would end the whole thing in a second. He was just, well, I hate to say it, but he was just trying to look out for us. In his own, extremely fucked up Lockwood way.” Lucy added the last sentence in a quick attempt to amend the ever-souring scowl on your face.
“And hey, who knows, maybe something will finally come out of this. I mean, you have to admit, being married is pretty romantic.” She smiled at you, and it was soft, encouraging almost.
“Besides, it’s not like the two of you weren’t going to end up together anyways. If anything, he’s just streamlined the process.” With that, you tightened your grasp on the pillow, swinging it in a deadly arc aimed at her head. Just then, a third voice interrupted your siege.
“Oh, hi Luce, mind if I have a quick word with my wife?”
Your eyes grew wide as they took in Lockwood’s lanky figure, leaning with ease against the railing at the head of the stairs.
“Too soon, Lockwood,” you grumbled, and for a moment, the suave smirk didn’t reach his eyes. Still, he moved slowly into the room as Lucy made her exit, throwing you a thumbs up as she descended from out of the attic.
Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, careful not to crush your legs beneath the covers, he appeared almost nervous before his hand disappeared into his pocket and rematerialized, holding a small velvet box.
“This is for you.” He smiled to himself, sweet and boyish, as he was in moments like these. Moments with just you two. As you moved to take the box from his grasp, his fingers touched yours, lingering against them for just a second before pulling away.
The box was old. That much was immediately obvious. And the hinges keeping it together were rusty enough to make opening it a bit of an effort, but when the lid lifted, your breath caught in your throat.
“Oh, Lockwood, it’s beautiful.” You sat in awe of the small ring nestled within the box’s velvet folds. It was simple but elegant, with a single gem at its center, and you couldn’t help but reach out to trace the smooth metal of its shank.
“Where did you–”
“It was my mothers.” His voice was vulnerable, barely above a whisper.
“Lockwood, I can’t–”
“It’s fine, really. Besides, it's just for today.” But you could see the stress the simple action caused him from the way he toyed with the wedding band now looped around his own finger.
“Anyways, I really just came up here to go over the plan.”
“The plan?” You balked, eyes snapping away from the heirloom in your hands.
“Yes, we need a story, of course. How we fell in love, how we came to be married. You should know our wedding anniversary as well. April 14th, remember that.”
“April 14th? But that’s today.”
“And?”
“I– I haven’t gotten you anything.”
“Well, it's not like this is a real marriage.”
“Oh. Right.”
“I’m thinking we say I fell in love first, then you. Women love that sort of thing–”
“No, no, we should say we’ve been in love since the moment we met,” you argued, thinking of your own feelings.
“Well, that’s not very realistic.”
“Doesn’t mean it isn– can’t be true.”
“I suppose so.”
“Maybe we should both just think of our own moment. When we fell in love with the other.” Lockwood seemed suddenly to choke on air but quickly coughed his way past it.
“Great idea.”
“We can say you proposed on a bridge overlooking the Thames,” you suggested, but Lockwood only scoffed at the idea.
“Actually, I was thinking we could say it happened on a mission. Maybe you were hurt, and I was afraid I might lose you forever. That when I realized you were alright, I asked you to marry me on the spot. That I didn’t see the point in wasting any more time on anyone else.”
Your mouth grew dry at his suggestion, and the best you could attempt was a meek nod in response.
“Perfect,” he stood quickly, as though brushing off the intimacy of the moment, and began to head for the stairs, “I’ll leave you to finish getting ready then.” By the time you’d managed to grasp your words, he had disappeared from your line of sight, leaving you alone with your thoughts and his mother’s ring.
You were descending the stairs when the knock came, and you felt your hand move to twist anxiously at the ring newly decorating your finger. At the bottom of the stairs, Lockwood turned his head just in time to meet your gaze, the nervous look plastered across his face softening into one of ease. Probably just for show. You reassured yourself, straightening your shoulders as you reached the final step. Just before opening the door, the boy beside you cast some final words in your direction.
“Remember, I’ll do most of the talking.”
You could only nod in response as the door swung open, revealing the DEPRAC agent. She seemed immediately to be a severe woman with a stern look set deep within her face and eyes that scanned each of you suspiciously before entering the home.
“Is there somewhere you’d prefer for me to conduct my interview.”
“That would be the library,” answered Lockwood, jumping into action, “(Y/N) love, how about you pop the kettle on and maybe grab some biscuits.”
“Of course.” You smiled, but it was forced, the only mirth in your soul emerging from the sure knowledge that George would have a field day with Lockwood later on for his failure to follow the ‘Biscuit Rule’.
As he departed for the library, guiding the woman along with him, you could already hear the echos of his charming chatter as they bounced off the walls of the home. Everything will be fine, the words looped in a self-soothing mantra, filling every corner of your head as you prayed to any god that would listen to get through this interview in one piece.
“And when would you say you fell in love with Miss. (L/N)?” The woman made no reaction to her question, simply opting to continue scribbling notes on her pad. Thus far, Lockwood had done a successful job of veering most questions away from you, though it would be a miracle if your nerves had gone unnoticed between the incessant bouncing of your leg and your consumption of three separate cups of tea over the span of thirty minutes.
“In love?” Lockwood stuttered beside you, and you and the woman turned simultaneously to inspect him closer, his confident facade nearly shattered at the mention of the word. Still, he recovered rather quickly, retrieving his easy smile only a second later.
“Yes, well, I assume that came before the marriage.”
“Of course. Let’s see, then.” He stopped for a moment as though pondering the question though the movement of his hand as he toyed with his ring confirmed to you he was just nervous. In an action you could only hope appeared natural, you reached over, stilling his fidgeting fingers by lacing them with your own. Lockwood looked suddenly at you, and the quiet crack in his performance showed itself only to your eyes.
“It was six months after we first met. We’d been researching for a big mission all day, and when we finally got home, I passed out. I woke up; it was probably three in the morning by then. Came down to the kitchen for some water and– and there you were, in the library, fast asleep.” Lockwood had long since stopped looking at the inspector. “You were in my armchair. I’d probably seen you in that armchair a thousand times. And you had a case file spread out over your chest. You looked ridiculous. But I knew immediately something had changed. I could feel it as I carried you up to the attic that night and the next morning while I was sat listening to you laugh at George’s stupid jokes. Like those feelings that were just a bit of a bother before were eating me alive. It’s– It’s how I feel every time I look at you: like I’m more afraid than I’ve ever been in my life and yet perfectly at home at the same time.” He was quick to look away when he finished, flashing the DEPRAC agent with a smile and leaving you frozen in the wake of his words, struck by his ability to manipulate the truth.
“Just one more question then. Ms. (L/N), marriage at sixteen that’s not something you see every day. What made you say yes?”
Lockwood’s eyes flashed quickly to your face, but as he opened his mouth, the woman quieted him with a motion of her hand.
“Not you, Mr. Lockwood. I’d like to hear from Ms. (L/N).”
This had not been within the parameters of your preparation. Lockwood’s favorite color, how he took his tea, the date of your anniversary? Easy breezy. You might have even been able to fumble your way through how you’d fallen in love with the arrogant bastard, given its basis in the truth. But you weren’t really married, and you’d never really said yes, so where did that leave you? And like a saving a grace, a question made itself known in your head. If Lockwood had really asked you, why would you have said yes?
“I suppose I didn’t quite understand the proposal at first either.” That much was true; for fucks sake, you’d missed the thing entirely. “But after a while, it made sense. I mean, not a day goes by we aren’t risking our lives for our work. There’s no guarantee of any future with a job like this, so why not marry young? Otherwise, we might not marry at all.” The second part came out rushed, the lie forcing its way past your lips. It wasn’t in your character to be impulsive, even if time seemed to be your enemy. Still, you forced yourself to delve deeper. To seek a truthful answer to that lingering question. Your breathing slowed.
“And then, one day, I think I realized that for me, it was always going to be Lockwood. That had he asked me five or ten or even twenty years down the line when we were old and boring, I’d of still said yes. Because– Well, because I couldn’t imagine spending my life with anyone else.”
You turned your head slowly to catch Lockwood’s eyes lingering on your face. His expression was unreadable. Your brow creased in your efforts to learn more from the set of his features, and for a moment, you lost yourself in him.
The woman’s notebook snapped shut. You felt yourself scramble from the loveseat you’d been sharing with the boy, and he followed close behind.
“That’s all from me. The agency will contact you in a few days to follow up, but as far as I’m concerned, you’ve passed.”
Without giving time for the information to be digested, she stood and left. Turning to face Lockwood, you were quick to pull his mother’s ring from your finger and place it in his palm.
“Well, now that that’s finished–”
“(Y/N)--”
“I’ll be in the attic–”
“(Y/N).”
“Lots of research, probably.”
“How did you do that.” The look on his face was one of disbelief when you finally met his gaze again.
“What?” You knew what.
“You know what. You can’t lie to save your life. How did you–”
“Really don’t see how this is important, Lockwood–”
“Were you telling the truth?” You were silent for a moment.
“You got us into this. I could’ve– I would’ve stayed silent forever, but you had to come up with another insufferable plot. And I’m sorry, I can’t lie like it’s some sort of second language– That was quite good, by the way, the way you made me feel– made it seem like there was some chance in hell that you loved me back–”
He dragged you in all at once, catching you by the waist and interrupting your scattered thoughts with his lips. Kissing you. Soft at first, but deeper, harder, as you brought your hands up to his neck. As you kissed back. By the time he pulled away, you were breathless.
“It was never– I was never– God if I thought I could lie my way through this, I would’ve asked George or Lucy even. It had to be you because– because it was always real with you. I have loved you ever since I met you. That night in the library only confirmed it.”
“I thought that was unrealistic.”
“Maybe for someone who's never been in love with you.”
“Ask me again if I’ll marry you.”
“Again?” His eyebrows raised at the implication that there had been a first time.
“Just do it, you twat.”
“(Y/N) (L/N), will you marry me?”
“A million times yes, Anthony Lockwood. A million times, yes.”
#anthony lockwood#lockwood#lockwood and co#anthony lockwood x reader#lockwood x reader#lockwood and co fanfiction#anthony lockwood fanfiction#lockwood and co netflix#x reader
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she always smiled and spouted pretty ideals
Megumi Fushiguro x female reader
you meet Megumi (25+ y/o) who you'll soon be working with. he was allowed to grow up; getting taller and more tired, inheriting some of his father's more charming traits
the accumulation of those little despairs is what makes a person an adult
18+ content, includes sexual tension / injury / caring / soft dom / oral / sex / spanking / choking / hair pulling / biting / bondage mention
smut starts: part 6/7 // 15k
[needs updating very badly. is my first fic sorry]
7 bonus chapters [here] // smut starts: part 4 // 9.3k
1: crush
Your persuasive and friendly manager has succeeded in dragging you out of your warm, cosy room to join him and your new colleagues for a drink this evening. You head to the bar he mentioned to meet your work mates for the first time.
Recognising Gojo straight away, you head for his tall figure as he turns to greet you, waving enthusiastically. He buys you a drink and turns to the others who have been chatting next to you two. “Everybody! This is our new grade two sorcerer who will be joining us on Monday!”
You stand next to your manager, looking so small in comparison, wave a “hello” to your colleagues and introduce yourself to the group, feeling a little shy and overwhelmed.
The first to respond is a fairly tall, broad shouldered man with ruffled pink hair. “I’m Yuji Itadori! It’s so nice to meet you!” He forgoes formality, outstretching his arms to embrace you in a warm hug.
Yuji barely hugs you for a couple of seconds until a young woman with short red hair pulls him off you and shouts, “Don’t mind this lightweight! I’m Nobara Kugisaki. It’s a pleasure to meet another talented female sorcerer.”
She seems quite intimidating and shakes your hand firmly with a serious look in her eyes. Her expression shifts, smiling as she starts quizzing you with personal questions.
While you and Nobara continue chatting, Gojo grabs a dark haired man by the arm and physically drags him over. “This is Megumi Fushiguro!” Gojo shoves him forward, interrupting your conversation, “He’s rude and will not introduce himself. So here he is!” He proclaims with a big grin.
You stop mid sentence and look up at the tall man who has been pushed right in front of you, nearly touching. He’s looking down at you from around 6”2 you would presume, and you’re looking up, straining your neck from how close he is.
As your gaze travels up his chest, neck and finally to his stoic face, you make eye contact, feeling timid under his intense gaze. You squirm as he looks down at you, your heart fluttering as your cheeks flush a pretty pink.
Before you space out completely, Gojo releases his grip on the younger man and he steps back slightly.
“I’m Megumi. Sorry about him.” His voice is low, cutting through the obtrusive bar noise.
This brings you back down to Earth as you edge away, regaining your personal space. “It’s ok. Nice to meet you. I'm y/n” you manage to look up at him with a little smile.
Megumi's features are delicate, almost pretty, contrasting with his stern expression, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance at Gojo. Pure black hair hangs over his pale skin, spikes falling past his dark, mysterious eyes. He looks muscular under his well-fitting black shirt and trousers and you can't help but stare.
In an attempt to break your gaze and try to be friendly, you ask, “Is he always like this?” gesturing to Gojo. Megumi just rolls his eyes and sighs, “Yes, you’ll have to get used to him I’m afraid.”
The others chime in with possibly made up stories about Gojo as he attempts to defend himself and plead with you that he’s not a bad guy. Megumi doesn’t seem so angry anymore and joins in with ridiculing your new manager.
“He’s not that bad, is he?” You try to help Gojo out, but Megumi looks back at you with a smirk, “Oh, he’s the worst.” You get butterflies in your stomach as he looks at you with his deep blue eyes.
2: drinks
You move from the bar into a booth and get cosy with your new colleagues. Yuji and Nobara jump in one side as they're slurping their cocktail together. Gojo slides in on the other side and Megumi gestures for you to sit down before him.
You squeeze in next to Gojo and Megumi sits right next to you on the end, his shoulder brushing against yours.
You don't mind being so close to Gojo as you know him fairly well now; he makes you feel comfortable, even if he is incredibly flirty.
He wraps a strong arm around you and brings you into a close side hug, welcoming you into his team again and expressing his excitement. You hug him back, smiling contently. After some chit chat and curious questions, Gojo declares that you all must play a drinking game.
During the evening you ask to pause the game so you can use the bathroom. You turn to Megumi, wanting to exit the booth, the dark haired man returning a funny expression.
“Please can I get past?” You ask nicely. “Sure,” Megumi returns a smirk, sitting up and gesturing to the small gap between his spread legs and the booth table.
You stand up, pausing for a second, ensuring that he's really not going to stand up. Fine, have it your way.
He looks up at you expectantly. As you attempt to squeeze past Megumi's long legs your ass feels dangerously close to his body. You're squishing your plush thighs up to the table as much as possible and you almost trip over his feet below. You feel his eyes all over you in your tight skirt.
From Megumi's point of view this is a very simple way of getting what he wants. And, right now, Megumi would quite like to see your pretty face blushing again.
His confidence has grown a little over the years after numerous sexual experiences, drinking, and flirting. He worries that he might be taking after his dad. He knows this method isn’t charming or smart, but he just needs to get closer to you.
Megumi is shamelessly checking you out as you squeeze between him and the table, his imagination taking him to rather sinful places.
His self restraint is put to the test as your ass inches past him. He has to grip onto his thighs to resist the urge to touch you, taking his lip between his teeth so he doesn't run his mouth.
You're surprised your fat ass juicy, round ass got through that little gap. You managed, albeit a few degrees hotter, presuming the pink glow has returned to your cheeks as you make a pouty annoyed face at Megumi.
This is confirmed in the bathroom mirror as you wash your hands, sighing and running your fingers through your hair.
It’s not his fault he’s winding you up so much. You can't blame the man for looking the way he does.
You just wish your reactions were a little less obvious. You're a useless liar with a terrible poker face. You can't hide anything.
You head back out to your colleagues and Megumi has moved in closer to Gojo. You take this opportunity to sit down on the end of the booth on Megumi’s right.
“Oh, well that’s no fun,” he leans in, murmuring with a mocking disappointed tone. Goosebumps prickle down your neck, his calm voice trickling into your ear.
Now you realise he’s not just drinking cola. The distinct sweet smell of rum lingers on his hot breath. His lips are so close to your skin for a brief instant until he pulls away.
3: home
Your evening out is coming to a close as everybody’s finishing their drinks and figuring out their way home. This is when it comes to light that you and Megumi actually live in the same apartment block. It’s kind of embarrassing that you hadn’t met him yet, showing exactly how social you are. He brushes it off, joking that you don’t get up early enough to see him anyway, and books a ride home for you both.
The others head off, Yuji and Nobara sharing a ride and Gojo stumbling to the nearest train station.
You and Megumi only have to wait a few minutes for your driver. You jump in and open the window, enjoying the peaceful journey. No commuters, no busy train. You relax and sigh happily with the cool air swirling through the car.
Until you notice Megumi shivering, trying to wrap up warmer in his jacket. Damn, now you feel so inconsiderate.
You quickly close the window and reach over to Megumi, offering him your hand. He looks at you skeptically, but reaches out his hand in return. His eyes widen as he comes into contact with your small hand. The heat coming from you is incredible. “How…” he trails off.
He just takes his other icy hand from his pocket and clasps yours tightly.
You turn to him and place your other hand over his… as well as you can anyway. His hands are much larger and you’re having trouble covering his cold, pale skin. He seems to enjoy this contact as he sighs in content while looking at your small hands, “Thank you.” You just give him a sweet smile then look away, apologising for making it so cold.
Megumi looks into his lap, “About earlier…” he starts, “I’m sorry for making you climb over me in the booth like that. It was such a cheap move.”
He knows it was a little disrespectful, staring at you like that and forcing you to squeeze past him. He slightly regretted his method, but he couldn't resist trying to get closer to you in that tight skirt.
You just laugh it off as if you weren’t really phased. “And I didn’t realise you were drinking spirits all evening… I would’ve been on the floor…” you trail off with giggles.
He laughs with you now, admitting that he is a little drunk and he doesn’t usually drink like that. “I was kind of nervous about meeting a new colleague, a new Jujutsu sorcerer.”
You nod in understanding. “We’re quite rare so our circle is tight. When there’s a newbie I can’t help but feel apprehensive. And the way Gojo described you was…” he trails off, looking up at your face from your interlocked hands.
“He just said that you’re a really nice person,” telling a white lie, as Gojo had actually gone into far more detail. “Well, I hope I live up to his description!” You reply, wondering what your manager told him.
You arrive home and Megumi punches in the code, opening the door for you. You step in and climb the stairs, explaining that you live on the third floor at number nine if he needs anything. He lives on the second floor at number seven and he reciprocates your offer.
Before Megumi enters his apartment he awkwardly asks if he can warm up his hands a little more, “If you wouldn’t mind, your hands are just so warm and I–” he’s interrupted as you go the extra mile and wrap your arms around his shoulders in a hug. You’re not sure if Megumi is a hugger, but he's being so sweet and shy, asking to hold your hands.
Perhaps he’s not used to this as he seems a bit uncomfortable. You start to pull away a little, feeling silly, but you feel his hands slowly making their way up to your slim waist, snaking around your back and pulling you closer.
Your jacket is in your bag and your white vest is low cut at the back. Megumi finds your soft, warm skin with his freezing hands. He strokes your back gently with his long fingers and lets out a sigh.
You feel relieved, his touch cooling you down. But you can't help your head from spinning now Megumi has his hands all over you.
Your head rests gently on his chest as you tiptoe to reach your arms around his shoulders. Megumi can feel heat spreading all over him. He can’t get enough.
He pulls you closer, lets out another big sigh and pushes his head down towards your neck to feel your warm skin on his face. You ask if he’s ok and he replies, mumbling into your neck, “Mm hmm, feels so nice. How can you be so warm…” he pulls away a few inches, looking you up and down, “...wearing this?”
You notice a light pink blush on his high cheekbones, his dark eyes travelling down past your tight top, your waist and skirt.
You shrug, “I just run hot, I guess.” You give him a smile and start to pull away, finally letting go of his cold hands.
You say goodnight to your new colleague, letting him enter his cosy apartment as you head up to yours. You feel his eyes on you as you climb the stairs, waiting until you’re out of view to close the door.
4: test
On Monday Gojo explains that he wants to test your abilities, so you agree to meet him at the training grounds. You find your way, surprised to see Megumi waiting alongside your manager.
“Your opponent for today…” he gestures to Megumi, “don’t hold back, ok?” He grins and steps away.
You sigh, already knowing this isn’t going to end well. Regardless, you try your best and go all out, attempting to channel your unskilled, unrefined power towards the dark haired man who, to be honest, you quite like.
As predicted, Megumi easily counters, using a simple wooden training sword, summoning a massive bird to attack and defend.
The test is very short lived as you realise you’ve expended a lot of power in one go, feeling light headed and dizzy as Megumi traps you, his sword around your neck.
As your head spins your legs begin to tremble. “Uh, Gojo?” Megumi sounds concerned but your manager has disappeared. “That asshole,” he mutters.
He scoops you off your feet just before your legs buckle from beneath you, your vision fading. He takes you inside, gently placing you on a sofa as you manage to whimper, “I'm so sorry… not used to-” Megumi silences you, shaking his head, “Don’t worry. Rest.”
As your disoriented, confused brain regains consciousness you see Megumi still sitting next to you, reading. He lowers his book, his dark blue eyes shifting in your direction. “Good afternoon,” he says softly.
“What time is it?” You ask with a sleepy, croaky voice. “Twelve thirty.” You groan, feeling embarrassed that you passed out in front of your colleague on your first day of work. You groan again, exerting yourself in an attempt to sit up.
“Please lay down.” Megumi pushes you slowly back onto the sofa. “Ieiri, the resident doctor, visited and is concerned that you've depleted your cursed energy.”
He stops and looks at you with a worried expression. “You really went for it, didn't you?” You look up at Megumi with bleary eyes and nod, “Gojo told me not to hold back so he could assess my ability, but…” you trail off and look down, “I can't believe I ended up like this, from one fight…” you stare into space in disbelief.
Megumi raises an eyebrow and sits back in his chair, "Did you really think you could fight me in the same way you take down curses?" He asks with a slight cocky tone. "Depending on your opponent you need to alter your combat style." He explains. "The same technique won't work in each battle."
You have a puzzled look on your face as building your energy, channelling it and firing at any opponent has worked so far. And to be honest, it's all you've known as you've had little guidance with your abilities.
He continues, looking down at you lying on the sofa, "Your close range combat needs a lot of work. You couldn't even defend yourself against me, let alone strike back. And as for your cursed technique… it's hard to call it a technique when you're just firing off pure cursed energy and hoping for the best."
As you stare up at Megumi who is currently picking apart your failures as a sorcerer one by one, you can feel heat start to surge around your body and to the surface of your skin. You feel a red blush forming on your cheeks. Megumi catches himself before he continues lecturing you, “Uh, but your raw power is impressive.”
He realises he was too hard on you. He rubs the back of his neck and looks down at his knees. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to-"
"It-it's ok. Somebody needs to tell me," you interrupt.
"Ok but I don't want you to take it-"
"Megumi."
"-personally."
Your voice silences him again. In the brief pause you feel a pang of hunger, then a terrible rumble.
Was it your stomach? You think so.
He looks down at your belly, where you're sitting below him, making you feel suddenly self conscious.
He offers you his hand, coaxing you to reach out to him.
He watches you struggle to get up, a smirk on his face and a mean glint in his deep blues.
"You need a little help?"
You're in the middle of shaking your head when you feel his arm slip under your legs, his other round your shoulder.
"Come on. I'll carry you to lunch."
You look up at him in shock for a moment, not knowing what to do.
"I can walk." Your expression turns incredulous.
He holds you tight, ignoring your attitude and how you thump his chest to put you down.
"You couldn't even get up, just chill out."
But you continue, claiming that people will see you and that you're going to die of embarrassment.
"Tch- just be glad my Shikigami aren't carrying you." He quips, striding along to the lunch room.
You sigh with defeat, bowing your head into his chest to at least hide your face.
"See, knew you'd prefer it with me."
You enter the lunch room while holding onto Megumi's arm, trying not to grip too tightly or fall over. You're concentrating so hard on staying upright that you don't notice your colleagues lifting their heads as you enter.
Megumi glares, silencing them before they get a chance to open their mouths.
Apart from Gojo, who ignores Megumi's glaring and shouts your name, “Glad you could join us! Come and eat!” So Megumi guides you to sit with your manager and another man you don't recognise.
“This is Nanami Kento! Businessman turned Jujutsu Sorcerer!” At this Gojo receives a huff from Nanami, “I told you to stop introducing me like that.”
You say hello and Megumi gets up to grab some food as you slowly start standing to join him.
You're halfway through getting up when you feel a cool hand on your bare shoulder. “Uh, don't worry. I'll get you something,” Megumi almost mumbles, while gently pushing you back down onto your chair.
As Megumi walks across to the cafeteria Gojo blurts out, “Why won't Megumi wait on me like that??” He asks in a whine.
Nanami raises an eyebrow at Gojo, looks at him from the side and mutters, “Probably because you're not a young female sorcerer who he's just beat up.”
You enjoy lunch and have a restful afternoon, your first day complete.
5: comfort
It’s finally Friday. As you’re sitting on the train, staring out of the window into the dark night you let out a sigh of relief. You stroll home to your apartment block, recognising a familiar spiky haired figure standing by the door, just about to enter.
Oh, he must've been on the same train and arrived back before me. You catch up and greet your colleague, “Hey, Megumi! Can you hold the door please?”
As he turns round to face you you realise that his uniform is all messed up and ripped. He's all cut up and bleeding.
You gasp, “Megumi! What happened to you?” You instinctively reach over to him, gently inspecting his wounds.
“Ah, yeah. I got a bit beat up today.” He mumbles.
“Do you need any help?” You worriedly ask as you open the door, ushering him inside. “Is there anything you need? What about some dinner? I'm not an awful cook!”
You’re panicking slightly. “It's really not that bad,” he gives you a little smile, “but some food would be nice.” You feel relieved that Megumi will let you help him in some way.
You stop on the second floor and follow Megumi to number seven, entering his clean and organised apartment. “Wow, so different to mine…” you whisper as you enter, taking off your shoes to reveal cute white socks.
Megumi welcomes you into his home and starts to take off his jacket. He winces in pain, the fabric sticking to his skin and pulling on the cuts.
You hurriedly put your bag down to help him.
“Just relax,” you say calmly as you help him slowly peel off his jacket. Underneath he's wearing a plain black t-shirt. You can see scratches and cuts on his arms and chest, blood soaking the material.
“Let's get you cleaned up,” you say softly. You really want to help Megumi and repay him for everything he’s done for you during your first week at the academy.
You carefully take his hand in yours and guide him to the bathroom, presuming that his apartment has the same layout as yours. It does. You open the door and sit him down on the side of the bath. “Please let me help you,” you say quietly, almost whispering.
He nods, starting to pull off his shirt. You can't help but stare as Megumi lifts his shirt over his firm abs, chest, and strong shoulders. He winces as he pulls it over his head, his hair getting ruffled.
“Let me get a cloth and some warm water.” You run the water and Megumi points to the small cupboard.
“You don't have to do this.” He looks up at you from the tub. “Please, I just want to help.” You reply quietly, soaking a small towel in the warm water. He sighs, too tired to reply “Mm.”
You diligently wash Megumi's arms first, then start working on his chest. It's getting so hot in the small bathroom. You occasionally look up at Megumi to see his hazy eyes following your gentle movements.
You can feel his breath on your skin and you’re getting flustered from running your hands over his muscular arms and body.
Megumi tries to refrain from wincing, not wanting to deter you as you're doing such a great job. Your caring, warm hands gliding over his skin, feeling so tender and soft. He really doesn’t want you to stop.
You gently pat him dry and start applying some numbing antiseptic cream from the first aid kit you found, then finish by bandaging over the cuts. Megumi sighs as you relinquish him from your touch.
“Thank you, that felt so much better than when I do it myself.” He looks over to you as you're packing up the first aid kit, thinking about how often he has to do this.
He reaches over and gently pulls you to him, positioning you between his legs as he's sat on the bath. You look down in surprise as Megumi's dark eyes travel up your body, still wearing your black uniform. You feel so pliant in his hands, willing to do anything for him.
He wraps his hands around your waist, moving round to your back as he pulls you in closer. He ducks his head and leans against your stomach, squeezing you in his arms. You gently stroke his messy hair, moving down his neck and over his shirtless broad shoulders.
He mumbles into your belly, “Thank you so much.” He turns his head slightly, “I would get beat up every day if treatment felt this good.”
You feel your cheeks flush pink. “Your hands are so warm and soft,” Megumi continues thanking and complimenting you.
“You don't have to get beat up… for me to touch you…” you trail off, realising what you're saying.
You’re going crazy right now with all of Megumi’s praise for you as he wraps you up in his arms. He feels so strong and you just can’t resist his touch.
“Oh?” He looks up to you, a smirk forming on his handsome face. You basically whimper in embarrassment. “So it's like that, is it?” He mumbles over your stomach, sending vibrations through your body.
“‘m sorry!” You squeak, blushing harder as you try to pull away.
But you’re stopped by a strong grip on your back. “Just a little longer, please,” he pulls you in, his voice deep and needy.
You press into him again, cosy and warm in the hot little bathroom. Both of you could stay here for hours. You sigh and gently stroke his hair, “Shall we get something to eat, Megumi?” He groans softly, “Mm, yeah.”
6: just checking in
The weekend goes by fairly quickly as you’re busy with chores, trying desperately not to replay your steamy Friday night with Megumi in your head over and over.
Your efforts are pretty much in vain as you can’t fight the urge to knock on his door on Saturday, with no luck, and again on Sunday. He opens the door wearing only shorts, rubbing his sleepy eyes. You get flustered and apologise for waking him, quickly handing him a container of chicken soup, feeling a little embarrassed.
You run back upstairs to continue with your Sunday routine. Monday comes around soon enough and you’re back at the academy. You sometimes see Megumi around campus and he always stops to chat with you, however brief this may be.
Tuesday passes and Wednesday evening rolls in- you haven't seen him. You wonder if he’s been busy.
Then again on Thursday, there’s no sign of him. Now you’re concerned that he might be injured again, forced to stay at home?
You’ve got to check.
You knock on number seven and you’re greeted by Megumi holding a towel around his waist, his black hair all floppy and wet. His body is steaming from the shower, water droplets trickling over his firm muscles.
You try to break your stare as he gazes down at you. “Sorry, I–”, you start stumbling, “sorry Megumi, I can come back later?”
He shakes his head, inviting you in. “Don’t worry,” he says in his deep voice, “you’ve seen it all before,” he gives you a smile and closes the door.
It’s literally been three days, but you get this feeling of relief when you see that he’s ok and hear his voice. Have you missed him?
You step into his apartment sheepishly, “I, I just came to see how you’re doing,” you stumble, “I wanted to make sure your injuries are all ok…” you trail off, looking up to his dark eyes.
“You missed me?” Megumi raises an eyebrow, giving you a sly smile.
You laugh out of embarrassment, scratching the back of your head, not able to deny it.
“About my injuries,” he looks down at his muscular arms, “they’re healing up pretty well.” The scratches and cuts have closed up, but still look pink on his pale skin.
Megumi suddenly remembers to thank you for the soup you delivered. “That’s ok,” you start, “you and the other grade one sorcerers seem so busy… I just want to make sure you’re not overworking yourself or making your injuries worse.”
He thanks you and tells you not to worry, “Take some time to think about yourself too, yeah?” You nod and start to make your way home.
You’ve done what you came here for. Megumi is fine, now it’s time to go! You say goodnight as he watches you walk up the stairs.
Friday is a fairly average day, as you continue working with other grade two sorcerers and make some time for training and reading. You eat lunch with Nanami and receive an unexpected but welcome video call from Gojo. You had a pretty rough training session with Toge during the afternoon, leaving you exhausted.
You get home, quickly eat some leftovers and flop onto your bed still wearing your uniform, so ready for the weekend. You somehow get the motivation to get up and take a shower before completely passing out.
You choose some of your favourite lounging around clothes; a pair of black shorts and a cute patterned vest. The shorts are pretty tight, and probably too short to wear outside, but they’re so comfy and keep you cool. The vest has stringy straps and hugs your figure nicely.
You finish getting dressed, dry and brush your hair when you hear a knock at your door. You stroll over, brushing your hair and humming, opening the door to find your handsome colleague. It’s Megumi!
You attempt to hide your obvious excitement, but you smile up at Megumi and greet him.
“I just wanted to check in,” he mumbles a little, “after you checked in on me during the week.” You invite him in as you finish brushing your hair.
“Thanks, Megumi!” You smile and get some drinks for yourself and your sweet colleague, getting comfy on the sofa.
He asks you about your day and you catch up on some of the assignments he’s been on this week. Some of them sound quite intense but he doesn’t appear to have any new injuries.
As Megumi is talking you can't help but get distracted by his dark, dreamy eyes and long lashes, his soft lips and mellow tones.
There's a pause in your chatting so you offer to get some more drinks.
“Yeah, do you have anything a bit stronger than apple juice?” Megumi asks with a smirk, mocking your choice of drink. “Um… I might have something around here…” you reply.
You get up, feeling so comfortable in your own apartment that you forget you're wearing incredibly revealing clothes.
As you're rummaging around in the fridge you turn back to Megumi, “There's nothing in here!” You say, laughing in disbelief.
As you turn to face him you can tell that he's been staring, as he looks away quickly with a light pink blush on his cheeks.
You start searching the cupboards, bending over to look right in the back. You rest your hands on your hips, touching the skin between your tight shorts and vest then reach up to the top cupboard, tiptoeing, which pushes your ass out.
You finally see a bottle on the top shelf, but you can't quite reach it. Perhaps I could climb on the counter? How did it get up there anyway?
You can feel Megumi's eyes on you as you try to reach for the top shelf. He can see you're struggling.
“Do you need a hand over there?” He asks in his deep voice.
“Yes… please,” you try one more time, sighing in frustration as you sink down again.
Megumi comes up close behind you and reaches over your shoulder. His fingers can't quite close around the bottle from this distance so he touches your waist gently, closing the gap between your bodies to get closer to the cupboard. You can feel his body pushed up against your back as he stretches up to the top shelf.
You can feel his chest and firm abs beneath his shirt, and his hips push up against you.
“Got it,” he sets the bottle down on the counter. He doesn't pull away from behind you, so you turn to face him.
“Thanks, I'm too short,” you reply, looking down at your small body.
“No, you're a nice height,” he compliments you, then wraps his arms around your waist and up your back. He squeezes you, his fingers tickling your waist making you giggle and reach up around his shoulders, hugging him back.
Then you feel your feet lift off the floor as Megumi suddenly picks you up, setting you on the counter as his arms remain wrapped around you.
“Now you're too tall,” Megumi says, frowning slightly.
Your faces are so much closer now, and he doesn’t have to arch down to look at you, nor do you have to tip toe up to hug him.
You can’t help the pink blush forming on your cheeks as you look into his dark eyes.
A comfortable silence envelops the two of you, your arms draped over his shoulders, his hands on your waist.
He reaches a hand up to your face, his thumb stroking your cheek.
“There’s that pretty blush again,” he mutters absentmindedly.
You look down, feeling shy, earning a breathy chuckle from the dark haired man. He tilts your chin back up again, his fingers holding you ever so delicately.
“Please… can I kiss you?” he asks in a low whisper.
Your eyes go wide as you look at him in disbelief.
“Hey, don't act all shy and surprised. You must know I'm into you, right?” His voice is low as he looks into your eyes sternly.
“I didn't realise you liked me that much… I thought you were just being nice and looking after me at work…” you mumble, looking back into his pretty eyes.
“I'm not really that nice… to anyone.” He shakes his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “I volunteered to train with you because I didn't want anyone else to go near you.” He sighs.
You can't believe he's been feeling this way. You're so surprised and flattered that someone like him would really have a crush on you.
“And now you've been teasing me all evening…” you look down, away from his intense gaze, “I didn't mean to tease you” you say quietly, knowing exactly what he’s talking about.
His hand cups your chin, bringing your lips closer to his.
“You know what you've been doing to me tonight,” he looks you up and down, “bending over in front of me in those little shorts.” His other hand squeezes your waist.
“I, I'm sorry, I just–” you're silenced as Megumi moves his thumb over your lips, still delicately holding your face up.
“Don't apologise,” he raises an eyebrow, “you just have to be prepared for the consequences.” He looks down at your pretty face as the corner of his lip curls up.
“Megumi…” You mutter. He sighs heavily through his nose, staring into your eyes. You squirm under his gaze, realising he might be losing his patience.
“Of course…” you pause, your big eyes peering into his, “you can kiss me.”
He doesn’t hesitate. Not for a second.
His lips crash into yours, reaching his hand to the back of your neck.
He’s finding it impossible to control himself, his tongue already licking at your lips. You eagerly open for him, your tongues intertwining as you feel his canines grazing your lip, making you let out a little moan.
You hold each other so close, your legs wrapped around his waist as his hands work up your back and neck, through your hair.
Megumi somehow slows down and pulls away, sucking on your lip, “I’ve been wanting to do that… for a while.”
As he gazes down at you Megumi sighs in relief, holds your head to his and smiles. This isn’t a sarcastic mocking smile, a smirk or teasing smile. This is a genuine, happy smile from Megumi.
His handsome face is usually so serious and gloomy, or giving you a flirty smile, teasing you about something.
But now he looks elated.
“I would’ve kissed you sooner… if I knew you’d smile at me like that”, you say looking up at his pretty lips. Megumi laughs, “I know, my friends tell me I don’t smile enough…” he starts, “but I think different things make different people happy.”
“Megumi…” your soft lips whisper over his.
7: desire
His lips are all over yours again, sucking and biting gently as you pull each other impossibly closer.
“I, I just can’t stop thinking about you…” his voice comes out a little strained, “been driving me crazy. Every time I see you I just… I just want you… so bad.”
“Megumi… I– I feel the same way…” You stare up at him, listening to his confessions, still in slight disbelief.
“When we touch… I’ve been so close to just grabbing you and…” he trails off, taking you into another deep and passionate kiss, his hands squeezing your waist and sides.
“You want me?” he asks, breathing over your lips. His words send shivers through you.
You nod eagerly. He leans closer, his lips grazing against yours as he gives you a serious look, “You gonna be good?”
Is this the same man as just a few seconds ago? You look up to him with pleading eyes, wanting him to kiss you again.
“Will you?” His voice drops, a new tone emerging. You can’t help but nod your head, enjoying where this is going, “Mm hmm, I’ll be good, Megumi.”
Megumi groans softly hearing his name from your needy lips, leaning in again. He’s so hungry to taste you, forgoing any gentle kissing as he bites and sucks, pushing his tongue deeper.
Suddenly you feel Megumi’s hands grip you and he picks you up, holding you close to his body he carries you to your bedroom. It’s painted white and dusty pink and is pretty girly. “Cute”, Megumi snorts.
“Before I get too carried away,” he starts in a serious tone as his hands move down to caress your thighs that are wrapped around his waist, “I can be, um… pretty rough sometimes… if it's too much please tell me. I only want to make you feel good, ok?”
Getting a warning like this is nice, but not typical of more dominant people. He must be pretty into you, you think as he sits you down on the bed, towering over you.
“Rough sex with Megumi Fushiguro… hmm…” you hum his full name and bite your lip, which only makes him grip you tighter, “must be my lucky day, because that's how I like it,” you say flirtatiously, earning a low chuckle in reply.
Megumi's quiet confidence and serious nature have led you to believe he would be like this, only drawing you to him further.
But he's private, somewhat mysterious, not easily divulging what he likes– you just have to get to know him, and you have, slowly, revealing many similarities and shared interests.
Your thoughts are interrupted as you notice the bulge in Megumi’s black trousers, and he has a perfect view of your perky breasts, your nipples already poking through your thin vest.
As he looks down at you, you can’t resist, you have to run your fingers along his belt to the buckle at the front, tugging gently.
Megumi raises an eyebrow, “Take your hands off me, and take your vest off” he stares down at you as you lean back, “now.”
He’s not asking, he’s telling you. And you do as you’re told, your perky breasts bouncing as you remove your thin top.
Megumi licks his lips and climbs over you, still fully clothed as his eyes rake up and down your body, taking in your beautiful features.
He bites your lip, making your chin tilt up as you whimper over his mouth.
The sexiest smirk tugs at his lips.
You feel his hand stroking up your body, finding your chin as he takes a grip. “Open” he mutters, staring at your mouth, making you shiver and obey.
“Let me see your tongue…” his breath fans your face, your big eyes darting up to his as you hesitate for a second then gingerly stick out your tongue.
His lips close over your warm muscle, sucking and licking, making you let out a surprised moan into his mouth. You knew your tongue was pretty sensitive, but this feels so erotic, making your hips jump and twitch.
He pulls away as you feel a strong hand on your hips, “Stay still, pretty girl.”
His lips are on you again, kissing down to your sensitive nipples, sucking and dragging his sharp teeth over your body leaving little marks. He squeezes and licks until you’re like putty in his hands, his head sinking lower, pulling down your skimpy shorts and underwear.
You’re now fully naked in front of this perfect man, melting into his every touch, needy for more. As he pulls away from your body and discards the last of your clothing he looks down at you, eyes half lidded and full of lust.
His gaze travels down past your waist as you reflexively close your legs.
Megumi shakes his head slowly, completely disapproving. “Did I tell you to close your legs?” You shake your head apologetically. “So keep them open for me.” He commands quietly, parting your legs easily with his delicate hands.
He strokes over your thighs, his fingers inching closer to your hot wetness. “Already soaked…” he mutters, “must want me pretty bad?” He adds, smirking up at you.
“Mm” you just moan, not wanting to open your mouth… you know something shameful is bound to come out.
“Tell me how badly you want me.” You moan again, his lips teasing you as he speaks. “Want you Megumi… need you so bad”, you whine as he hums against you gently, breathing over your clit.
He looks up at you expectantly. “Mm?” You’re getting so impatient for him now, so desperate. You know what he wants.
“Please, Megumi,” you start, looking down at him with your big, pretty eyes, “please touch me” you whine, your cheeks all pink, barely able to look into his eyes.
“Better,” he utters and closes his lips around your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue over you. You let out a loud gasp, more needy moans following until you bite your lip in an attempt to stay quiet.
“What are you doing?” He asks softly, pausing. “I, I didn't want to be too noisy. The neighbours…” you stumble and bite your lip closed again.
“That's too bad, princess,” he starts, using this pet name makes you whimper quietly, “I need to hear you.”
You look down at him, releasing your lip from between your teeth, leaving it pink and puffy. Megumi gives your pussy a long, slow lick and groans softly, “Good girl. Please try your best to behave for me.”
He suddenly slides his big tongue inside you, making you let out a loud moan as your hips jerk up to his mouth. You can feel him smirking against you as he's got just what he wants.
Your hands tangle up in his jet black hair, getting light headed from his sexy moans.
He moves his lips up to your clit as you feel a long finger slide inside you. He reaches so far back. “Megumi… mm, ‘m so close…”
He inserts another finger, bringing you closer to the edge as his tongue continues flicking your clit.
“Megumi!” You scream and gasp, your toes curling and your hands gripping onto his black hair. “Megumi… Megumi, I'm cumming…” you moan between deep breaths, feeling the man below you slow down, groaning and swallowing.
Your hips jerk then relax, feeling his fingers slide out. He opens his mouth over you, feeling his teeth and lips, his tongue taking a final taste as he pulls himself away.
“You've made such a mess, pretty girl. Better help me clean up”, he pulls you up, eyeing your pink lips.
You lick your wetness from his fingers, chin and lips as he opens his mouth for a deep kiss, pushing his tongue back inside you.
“So good for me, princess, maybe you'll be rewarded”, he says, standing up from the bed.
8: reward
Megumi has been fully clothed in his well fitting white shirt and black trousers all evening. He’s had his fun with you, getting you all hot and needy. Just how he likes his girls.
Your eyes follow his every movement as Megumi unbuttons his shirt. This was worth the wait. You bite your lip as he reveals his muscular body, some faint scars evident.
Edging closer to him, you reach your hands out to trace over his abs and work your way down to his trousers. You manage to unbuckle his belt and undo his button and zipper before you feel strong hands around your wrists.
“So this pretty little princess wants my cock, hmm?” He asks teasingly.
You nod, yes. His dark eyes lock onto yours, gripping you tightly. Something tells you he’s not going to give it up that easily.
“You think you can just… help yourself?” He raises an eyebrow as you blink up at him innocently.
He easily restrains your wrists in his right, his left hand pulling the belt from his trousers.
Before your brain has time to process, Megumi throws you onto the bed in front of him, “On your knees.” He commands.
You fumble slightly as your wrists ache from his tight grip.
“Now.” He growls, pulling your hips up himself so that your round ass is facing towards him.
“Stay still.” His hands leave your body as you hear his belt snapping behind you.
Fuck. You get a shiver of anticipation, a wave of goosebumps spreading down your neck and spine.
“It’s not that you’re a bad girl,” his hand rests on your lower back, his thumb tracing circles over your dimples, “just a little too… impatient. And entitled. I think we can work on it, though…”
He pauses, the air thick with tension. You’ve had enough time to stop him, to prevent what’s about to happen. You could’ve turned around at any moment and told him that you’re not into this and you don’t want him to hurt you. You know he’d listen.
But you don’t. Because you’re loving every second.
A loud slap breaks the silence. You take in a sharp breath, but barely flinch. He’s just testing the waters, making sure you’re ok with this.
How sweet, you think.
Slap, a bit harder this time, causing you to let out a quiet whimper.
“You want it harder?” He asks gruffly. You nod quickly, turning back with your needy, madly blushing face as if to convince him.
Asking for permission? How respectful.
Slap, much harder this time.
You let out a quiet “fuck” with a string of whimpers, your toes curling with pleasure.
“Who knew such a pretty girl,” his big hand caresses your red ass, “would be so kinky?” He mutters in disbelief, his voice low.
Another hard slap has got you moaning his name. That’s what he wanted.
“C’mere,” he pulls you up to face him, nice and close, “you’re gonna be my perfect little girl?” His thumb traces your lips as you nod eagerly, “Mm, promise.”
“Oh good, that means you can have my cock whenever you want.” Your eyes focus on his lips. “Just need to be a little more patient, ok? Sit pretty and ask nicely. Think you can do that?”
You let out a breathless, “yeah…” your eyes trailing down his perfect body as he holds you, his trousers half undone with such a tempting bulge hanging out. Your eyes linger there for a moment.
“Megumi…” you breathe out, your eyes working up his body again, studying every detail, “please can I touch you?” You murmur. He nods, your hands feeling over muscle and cool, pale skin.
Your eyes reach his, watching his beautiful black lashes as he blinks slowly. The air is so still and silent. Your delicate fingers find his waistband.
“Please can I?” You whisper over his lips.
He stays quiet, his dark eyes looking between your lips and eyes, silently urging you to continue.
“Need you, Megumi…” you murmur, “really need to suck you…”
His eyes dart up to yours, the corner of his lip twitching into a tiny smirk.
“Beg” the word comes out low and quiet, but it’s enough to send a shiver down your spine.
His voice gives you butterflies on a normal day, but you’re so close, the words he’s uttering having so much power over you. It feels so intimate. You'd do anything he asked.
Your big eyes peer into his, your lips parting as your voice catches in your throat, suddenly feeling nervous.
“Please…” you let the word fall from your lips, “promise I’ll make you feel so good, Megumi…” you hear a low grunt from the man before you as you bite your lip, the alluring blush returning to your cheeks. Just a little more.
You push him back slightly, kneeling on the carpet below, so close to what you want.
“Will you let me…” you continue, one of his hands finding the back of your neck. He strokes your hair gently as his blue eyes go black with lust, watching you kneel there begging for him.
“Please” you murmur as he pulls you closer. “So good, princess…” his hand finds your chin, his thumb stroking over your bottom lip as your fingers pull down his tight shorts and trousers.
He doesn’t stop you.
He lets out a sigh of relief, his erection slapping against his abs as you lick your lips, swallowing hard. You edge closer, his thumb opening your mouth as he presses his pretty cock over your lips.
“Megumi…” you moan over his wet tip, so ready to take him. You lick him slowly, looking up at his lustful expression.
He can’t help but push into your mouth, his tip going down your throat, making you gag as tears prick in your eyes. He lets out a strangled moan, “fuck, so good.”
He lets you suck on him, going at your own pace for a while. You suck and lick, your lips enclosing him so deliciously. Your tongue presses up the underside of his cock, licking up and swirling around his smooth, sensitive head.
“Nhh…” he moans as you suck on his tip then take him in again, his hips beginning to jerk, his cock going deeper. You try so hard to control your breathing through your nose, swallowing him down.
“Yeah, like that… fuck…” you earn another pretty moan, his eyes closed in bliss as he grabs the back of your neck, pulling your hair.
Your eyes well up as he thrusts harder, gripping tighter.
You need to breathe, your throat is so full you feel suffocated. You let out a whine as your throat contracts around him, choking and gagging.
His eyes suddenly open, realising what he’s doing as he lets go of your neck. You pull away hiccupping, taking in ragged breaths. You recover for a second then move to take him back into your mouth, making Megumi let out a low chuckle.
“‘s much as I loved watching you gag… this pretty mouth has done enough…” he strokes your lips with his thumb.
“But– but–” your eyes are wide, wanting more. He just presses his thumb over your lips.
“Get on the bed. Lay down.”
You give him a pleading look.
“Look, I can’t control myself…” his voice comes out strained, “it’ll be my fault if you get hurt.” He returns you a desperate look.
“Get up.”
You can’t disobey him.
9: wish
Megumi wraps his hand around his cock, pumping himself while pushing you back on the bed. He climbs over you, your legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him in. He leans over you, slides a condom over himself, and looks into your eyes, waiting.
“Please, Megumi…” your voice a soft whine.
As you look back into his dark blue eyes his expression changes. He teases you with his tip, still having an ounce of patience left, rubbing you up and down.
“Please… what?” he asks breathily.
“Need your cock… please. Need you inside me…” you reply, giving him what he wants.
“Mm, princess…” his eyelids flutter, hearing you begging so nicely. You can feel his cock pressing against you, rock hard and thick at your entrance.
“Only say stop if you mean it, ok?” he says with a serious tone, looking into your eyes.
You nod, “Yeah, promise”
He pushes his length into you. Hard. He has a dark, almost animalistic look in his eyes and lets out a loud moan.
A scream escapes your mouth, your hips jerking up to meet his, pleasure and pain flooding your body. He thrusts roughly into you, “fuck, yes…” he growls into your neck and takes you into a hot kiss.
Your hands can’t help but wander over his body, feeling his tensing muscles. He twitches as you squeeze over his hips, pulling him in harder. You’re given a disapproving look as he takes your hands and pins them over your head.
He keeps rolling his hips, biting and sucking your shoulder as he holds your wrists tight. He turns his head, sucking your ear, his tongue working inside making you whine.
His grip on you tightens, hearing your needy whimpers.
“You’d look so pretty… with some rope around your wrists…” his deep voice travels through you, words forming into images in your mind. Your pussy squeezes around his length involuntarily, your eyelashes fluttering.
He smirks against your neck, feeling the telltale signs of your pleasure building up.
“You want me to tie you up, sweet girl?” He asks gruffly, your back arching up.
Your mouth hangs open as you whine and nod dumbly, feeling so full and fucked out, his pace making you numb with pleasure.
He's got you whimpering, “P-please… need– ah, need you to tie me up nn– n’ fuck me”
A needy, surprised expression crosses Megumi's features, not expecting you to reply properly at this point. “Can’t say stuff like that,” he breathes out, your pussy squeezing him again, “gonna make me fucking cum” he moans as his hand releases your wrists, only to find your neck.
Delicate fingers wrap around your throat, squeezing gently at first. You moan softly, encouraging him to get a little rougher. His grip tightens around you, restricting your breath as he groans, his thrusts getting harder. “Fuckk– can’t take it… so close…” his voice comes out so needy.
He suddenly pulls out, “Get on your knees.” He wants more– he wants all of you. He wants this night to last forever.
You see stars when he slides back inside, his eyes all over you in the mirror. He watches your back arching as you push against him. “Touch yourself” he commands quietly. You're close anyway, you’re going to be over the edge in seconds.
A few tight circles over your clit and you’re ready, “M-Megumi– I, I–” there’s no way you can hold it.
“Can’t talk? S’ok,” he slaps your ass, pushing you over, “pretty girls like you don’t need to talk.” You have a euphoric orgasm, feeling Megumi's hand burning your plush skin, his cock so deep you get that achy feeling in your stomach and throat.
He chuckles, “cumming when I spank you nice 'n hard, huh?” You can only moan out “yesyes mhh– Megumi” riding out your high all over him as your eyes roll back.
“Hot…” he holds up your head, his hand in your hair, “what do you want me to do to you?”
“W-want you to- ah, fuck me hard, Megumii-”
He groans, his fist gripping your hair tight as he pumps you.
“-fuck me till I'm hurting”
“You- you want me to??” He moans out, losing his breath.
You nod, yes, “want you to use use me-”
Megumi groans and cums hard. His jaw clenched tight, a deep growl coming from his chest. You could almost cum again from the sight of him. He grips you painfully tight, finally getting his release.
You hold each other close, Megumi resting his head gently on your shoulder, kissing you, whispering sweet praises.
You share the small bathroom, getting cleaned up, then return to your bed.
“Never thought we’d be so… well matched,” he says, smiling and pulling you closer. You smile sweetly, “Mm,” you hum over his lips, “I like all kinds of stuff”
He raises an eyebrow, “Oh yeah? Maybe you can show me sometime.” You tuck your head under his, cuddling up close as you chat and fall asleep in each other’s arms.
10: closer
After your long night with Megumi you wake up and rub your eyes, turning in your bed. He's still next to you, sleeping soundly. You look at his beautiful, peaceful face, his long, dark eyelashes fanned out against his pale skin. His spiky black hair is even messier than usual, thanks to your hands running through it all night.
You edge closer to him and snuggle under his strong arm, resting your head on his chest. You feel his arm squeezing you and his other hand reaches over to your waist. He suddenly grabs you and slides you on top of him.
“Ah, Megumi!” You squeak in surprise, as you thought he was still asleep. You snuggle into him, laying on top of his gorgeous body, as he wraps his strong arms around your waist.
“Good morning,” he mumbles, his voice deeper than usual. You turn your head and kiss his neck and jaw.
“Good morning, Megumi,” you reply, already feeling Megumi's hard cock beneath you. You sit up, shifting your weight and grinding a little. He squeezes your waist as you move, groaning softly.
Megumi looks up over your body, licking his lips as his eyes travel up to your gorgeous breasts, slender neck and pretty face. He grinds up against you, feeling your wetness on him already.
He raises an eyebrow, watching you eagerly grind on him, “Better be careful what you wish for.” He says in his deep voice. “Mm... You’re so hard, can't help it…” you moan, pushing your wetness over him.
Megumi bucks his hips, moving you up as you grab a condom, sliding it over. You rub his tip against you, making him nice and wet, then move down, taking in just his bulging head.
He can't resist you like this. His usually stoic face is blushing, his eyebrows raised, biting his lower lip as he grinds back against you, pushing more of himself in.
You push him all the way in, sitting on top of him.
You feel a twinge inside; you’re not used to his size after one night. “Mmmh…” he groans loudly, filling you up. You can feel his dick twitching, getting impatient for you to move.
You slowly fuck him, moving up and down his length. “Mm… Megumi…” you moan as you keep riding him, getting a little faster, feeling your wetness over his thick cock.
He looks up at you with such a sexy expression, squeezing your hips and helping you ride him. “Fuck– princess, so good, fucking me like this” he moans, watching you bounce on his cock.
“Mm… wanna be your good girl, Megumii-” his praise encourages you to ride him faster, ensuring to stroke up and down his whole length.
“-yes” he growls, “you know what good girls get?” You shake your head.
He looks up at you with his flirty smile, “I’ll show you.”
Megumi grabs your ass in his strong hands and starts thrusting into you hard. You scream his name, begging him for more as he fucks into you.
“That good?” He asks breathily, fucking you harder and harder. “Uh huh, th- thankyou–” you moan out, earning a handsome smirk as you grip onto the headboard.
You're starting to feel dizzy off the pleasure, about to burst from the intense feeling of being pushed open and filled up, over and over.
Megumi suddenly reaches up, grabbing your neck to pull you down. His tongue and teeth are all over you, devouring you in a hot kiss.
You're pushed over the edge as his abdomen grinds smoothly against your clit. You're whimpering into his mouth, licking, sucking and swallowing his sexy moans while his hand grips your neck so you can't pull back.
“Mhh– Megumii–” his name comes out slurred, your pussy clenching him hard.
He keeps going, rutting faster, your whole body throbbing and going limp with pleasure. Your orgasm is drawn out longer, each thrust taking you higher.
“So close, princess…” he moans into your mouth, his thrusts getting rougher. He can't help it, can't hold back.
He fucks into you sporadically, releasing his load with a grunt.
You lay on top of him, shaking as you try to prop yourself up, your lip trembling.
“S'okay, come here” he pulls you down, laying all your weight on him.
“Did so well” he murmurs and strokes your hair as you calm down. Your bodies relax, feeling spent after such intense sex.
He gently lifts you off his leaky cock, the condom totally filled, and lays you down, kissing and praising you some more.
“Let's get cleaned up,” he says, taking your hand and helping you up into the bathroom to take a shower.
You stand together under the warm water, getting hot and steamy. Megumi's hair flops down his face in a dark, messy mop.
You press your naked body up to his firm chest and abs. You tiptoe up to kiss him and he leans down into you, deepening the kiss with his tongue sliding into your mouth, his hands all over you.
You pull away, looking down to see Megumi’s hard cock rubbing against you. You can’t help but smile up at him, raising an eyebrow.
“Megumi… can I please help you?” You offer, peering up at him again through wet eyelashes.
“Mmh– think you’ve done enough for me this morning?” He sighs out against your forehead, “‘m just being greedy now…”
“Mm mm,” you shake your head, “wanna feel you in my mouth again… please.” You know he wants it. You can feel his cock between your thighs as he moans softly.
You're getting so hot for him now as you stroke his chest and abs. “Wanna suck you so bad… ” you look up at him with those cute puppy eyes. You honestly want to make him feel so good, and you’re annoyed last time he didn’t let you finish getting him off.
Megumi lets out a groan against your lips, “Mm, love hearing you ask so nicely.” You feel his hand moving up behind your neck and shoulders. He pushes you down gently, “Get on your knees for me,” a command you love to hear from this gorgeous man.
You kneel in front of him, pressing your lips against his hard cock. “Mm…” you moan and lick his hard length. You look up at him with pleading eyes, sucking gently on his tip.
He grants you full permission and pushes your head down over him, grinding into your mouth with his thick cock. You moan loudly onto his dick, sucking him and taking him all in.
You move up and down his length, taking him nice and deep then swirling your tongue over his tip, licking him until he's moaning for you.
“Feels s’ good…” he praises you and pushes himself deep. “Fuck!” He groans, grabbing your hair.
“Getting… so close…” he grinds into you, ramming his cock deeper and deeper, “Love fucking your throat like this… doing so well for me– just a little more…” he trails off, moaning as you suck on him, bobbing your head faster and faster.
You know Megumi's pleasure is building up inside him as he grips your hair tighter. “Fuck- gonna cum…” he groans, moving back to pull out.
You just squeeze his hips tightly and continue pushing him into you. Megumi grunts as his hips move erratically, his hot cum spurting into your wet mouth and down your throat. You lick and suck him clean, swallowing every last drop.
He looks down at you with a surprised, fucked out expression. You wish you could take a picture.
“You really didn't have to do that,” he says as he looks down at you, pushing your hair out of your face. You can’t help but giggle at him, “I really wanted to, Megumi. Wanna make you feel good.”
He helps you up, holding you in his arms and kissing you under the warm water. “Well, you succeeded…” he whispers into your ear. You hold each other in the shower for a little longer then step out after washing up.
You put on a cute dress as Megumi dries off. He asks to stay at yours for the day so you run down to his apartment and get him some comfy clothes. You make some breakfast together and get cosy on the sofa, resting your head on Megumi's lap, exchanging a few words and comforting touches.
11: date
As the weekend passes you get back to the academy. You're enjoying a more private relationship with Megumi for now- neither of you are big on pda but you can tell he's always desperate to see you again; he’s all over you when you get a moment alone.
He comes back to the academy for lunch more often, waiting on you and making sure you're not working too hard. You catch the train together, he's staying at yours a lot, and he texts you to come over if you don’t see him at work.
You enjoy each other’s company; looking after each other after the busy days and weeks, eating dinner out, getting drinks, and spending time with Yuji and Nobara on the weekends, too.
Nobara and you have gone on a few shopping trips together, dragging Yuji along to carry your bags. And Megumi sometimes has Yuji visiting, so you've gone out drinking with them a couple of times and had some movie nights at Megumi's. You're not sure if either of them have a clue about you and Megumi– perhaps Yuji does.
You're getting much closer with Gojo and Nanami, as your lovely manager insists on checking in by phone every week and you have regular lunch breaks with Nanami.
Nanami’s quite reserved, but you’re getting to know him and you think he likes you too. He'll often buy you tea or coffee from the vending machines and bring it to you at lunch. He'll read his paper and catch up with how your training is going
You haven't seen Gojo in person now for a good few weeks and, strangely enough, you're starting to miss him. That's until he video calls you when you're going for dinner after work with Megumi. You answer the phone without realising Megumi is standing right behind you.
“Oh heyyyyy! You're with Megumi!” His voice is so loud over the phone. “Um, yes! Hello! What is it, Gojo? Work's over, you know!” You try to hush Gojo a little.
“Wait a minute… are you guys on a date?!” He basically shouts over the phone, his face beaming through the screen. Megumi rolls his eyes and leans over to the screen, “What do you want?”
Gojo continues teasing, “Gumi's on a date!!” He sings loudly. “I'm coming home this weekend, lovebirds! Will you please organise a night out for meeee?” You're glad he got to the point. “Uh, yes, we'll try our best!!” You reply quickly as you're heading inside. “Thank you!! See you tomorrow!”
He hangs up and you're both relieved. You raise an eyebrow at Megumi as you enter the restaurant, “Gumi?” You smile cheekily, repeating Gojo's nickname. Megumi just glares at you with his dark blue eyes, “Don't even think about it.” He mumbles.
You sit and down and sigh, feeling a little disappointed that, of all people, Gojo had to find out. Everybody will know within days.
“You're not ashamed of being with me, are you?” Megumi asks, raising an eyebrow and smirking at you, obviously teasing. “Megumi, you know I really like you…” you get a little worked up with a little pout on your face although you know he's teasing.
“Oh yeah?” He leans over the table, reaching his hands towards yours as he edges closer. “Maybe you should prove it.” What a flirt, you think and lean over the table.
His fingers snake around your neck and he pulls you into a kiss, moving his tongue into your mouth and pulling you closer. This kiss is getting way too hot…
You attempt to pull back, but his fingers just grip you tighter and he smirks against your mouth, then sucks your lip nearly making you moan. The kiss is over when he decides.
He lets you sit back in your chair and seems pleased with your pink blush. “Huh, maybe you really do like me then.” He shrugs. You just roll your eyes, “Of course I do…”
“If you like me so much… do you want to be my girlfriend?” He asks casually, leaving you stunned. You nod and wrap your fingers around his hand, feeling your blush spreading to your ears.
You order some food and enjoy your meal out with your boyfriend. Megumi tries to behave as you're getting a little worked up. When he's in a flirty mood everything he does just gets you so flustered.
After your meal you start heading home together. You're so happy that Megumi asked you to be his girlfriend, although you know that's pretty much how it's been anyway. Now you just have Gojo to deal with when he gets back tomorrow.
As you're chatting on your way to the train station you realise you still need to ask people out for drinks tomorrow.
“Shit, I kinda forgot about that.” Megumi rubs his forehead and sighs. “Do we have to? We could just stay home,” he leans a little closer, “you could put on your favourite movie while I eat you out… or we could listen to music while I finger you… or we could just make out in the shower?” He asks, genuinely trying to persuade you to stay in.
“Megumi…” You whine as you try to cover your ears. He only gets closer as he moves your hands down, gripping your wrists.
“Or I could tie you up and fuck you all night… till you're begging me to stop?” His deep voice sends shivers through your whole body. He sucks on your earlobe and gently bites you. “Would you like that, princess?” He asks seductively.
You're trying so hard to keep it together as you're standing waiting for your train. You're so close to letting out a moan. Megumi is relentless when he gets horny like this, wanting to make you as horny as he is. And it's working.
As much as your body wants to submit to Megumi, you try to break away from his intense flirting to organise your get together. You quickly get your phone out and pace around the station, making a little distance between you and Megumi. He huffs and gets out his phone. He was really hoping to distract you from the task completely and is a little disappointed he has to talk to anyone other than you.
He starts with Nobara, as he hears you've already had success with your first call, “Great, see you tomorrow, Yuji!” You beam over the phone to your friend.
Nanami is a little more difficult to convince, “Please, Nanami…” he can basically see your puppy eyes as he hears you whining over the phone.
“Hmm, ok. But I'm only going because you asked me.” He says flatly. “Oh, ok Nanami!” You blush a little. “See you tomorrow night.” You hang up and see how Megumi is getting on. He's wrapped up his calls with Nobara, Toge and Panda and has texted some others who you haven't met yet.
You hop on the train and manage to get into Megumi’s apartment without him stripping you.
12: trust
As soon as you’re inside he slams the door and attacks your lips, biting and sucking, pushing his tongue in your mouth aggressively.
He kisses and strokes down your clothed body, kneeling in front of you as you're pushed up against the door.
He kisses your stomach and works his hands up your soft thighs, lifting your dress. “But– I've been working all day! Please! Can I take a shower??” You ask all flustered and embarrassed.
He looks up at you, furrowing his eyebrows and lifting your dress further, exposing your cute white pants. “No.” He mutters as he bites the white hem, pulling them down.
He licks a teasing stripe up your clit then pulls you to a dining chair, sitting you down and spreading your legs. He places soft kisses up your creamy thighs and laps up your dripping wetness. He lets out a deep moan, kissing your clit gently and suddenly ramming his tongue inside you.
Megumi feels so good that you forget your embarrassment for a minute, moaning his name and pulling his hair. This is exactly what he wants.
His cock is straining so hard in his trousers it's almost painful. He undoes his belt and zipper, pumping himself for some relief as he eats you out, moaning into your wet pussy. “Mmh- ‘m close…” you moan, so turned on by Megumi touching himself beneath you.
“Wanna feel you cum on my cock,” he breathes over you and gives you another teasing lick. “But, but– please!!” You scream, feeling desperate for release.
“Hmm?” He looks up at you, kissing you softly. “'m so cloooose…” you whine. “Mm, but I really want to fuck you.” His eyes are all over your wet pussy, one hand on his cock as the other grips your waist.
Megumi stands up and strips off his work clothes as you stare up at his perfect body, squeezing your thighs together to ease your throbbing clit. He picks you up, carrying you to his room as his erection rubs over you.
He stands you in front of the mirror and bends you over, teasing you with his hard cock. You’ve been done with condoms for a few weeks now, having found another contraceptive.
Megumi picks out a vibrator you’ve left at his and lines himself up. You squeeze against him, desperate to feel him inside.
“You trying to fuck me, princess?” He asks, strong hands stilling your movements. You nod submissively.
“You know what I need,” he utters, rubbing his thumb over your tight ass. He looks so serious in the mirror, his dark eyes locked onto yours as the vibrator stimulates your clit.
“Megumi…” you moan his name, making him grunt as his tip slides in. Your voice has so much control over him now, you realise. Although you know Megumi will always be the one in control.
“-need your dick, please… need you to fill me up…” you moan as you watch him look down to where you’re connected, losing his patience. “Please fuck me…” you whine, grinding against him.
“Say my name” he growls, clicking the vibrator up to the next setting, making you buck against him.
“Fuck– I– please, Megumi!” You moan and squirm over his leaky cock.
“Mm, that’s it, think you’re ready now?” He asks, staring at where your slick juices are running down your thighs, then up to your blushing face. He knows you’re already close to cumming from all this teasing.
You nod, your mouth hanging open, “need daddy's cock” you moan as you desperately try to move your hips.
Megumi's eyes go wide in the mirror, his pupils dilated as he grabs your hair. “Gonna get such a good fucking for that,” he utters and sinks his cock in.
He slides in slow, each inch taking you closer.
As soon as his fat tip hits your cervix your pussy flutters around him, your eyes rolling back.
“That was quick, pretty girl,” he chuckles, pushing impossibly deeper, massaging you with the vibrator as he holds your hip up, “that good, huh?” He smiles and watches you come undone, your legs shaking as the pleasure courses through you.
He squeezes you hard and fucks you slowly. “M– nnghh…” you moan incoherently as Megumi grinds his hips against you slowly.
His hand tangles in your hair, pulling your face up, his lips locking with yours. His thrusts are hard and deep, full of lust and passion. Your eyes are fixed on his beautiful face in the mirror as he praises you, telling you what a pretty girl you are.
He stares back, his dark eyes hovering over your open mouth and teary eyes as you beg for him to keep going.
“Felt you cum all over me so nicely, princess,” his strong hands stroke up and down your back, settling on your hips as you're spread wide for him, “you wanna feel mine?”
You nod instantly, “yesyes, please,” you moan, wanting Megumi to feel the same pleasure you just did, wanting him to release inside you.
Megumi lets out a deep groan and squeezes your thighs hard. He gives you a few more gentle pumps of his cock then he rams into you quickly. He's pumping you so hard and fast, your ass slapping against him.
“Love it when you fuck me like this…” you moan as he moves a hand to your ass, pinching your cheek. You moan his name again as you get a stinging slap on your round ass.
“Harder… please…” You know you're really asking for trouble now. Megumi growls, grips your shoulder and fucks you relentlessly, giving your ass another hard smack.
You scream and moan for him as he leans over you, “You like a good spanking, hmm?” He murmurs. You can only whimper and nod, the words not forming in your fucked out brain.
You can tell he’s getting close; his groans are getting louder as he tries to muffle himself on your neck. He sucks and bites you hard as he pumps you with his cock, leaving soft bruises and marks over your skin. Feeling his teeth on you like this makes you arch into him further, needing more.
He finishes his works of art and releases your neck, his saliva dripping all over you.
“Fuck– those look hot,” he breathes out, “now everyone can see who you belong to…” he traces your neck, gripping gently, “‘nd who’s that, princess?” He asks, his voice unwavering.
“I'm yours, Megumi– I, I belong to you,” you reply between soft moans, looking up at him innocently as he fucks you nice and deep.
“Love that you're so possessive, Megumi… I'm all yours–” You moan out.
“You seem to love a lot of things about me, princess… do you think you might love me?” He asks, his dark eyes meeting yours in the mirror. Your eyes widen, his sudden question sending butterflies through your body.
You didn't realise you were saying you love so many things about him tonight, making your feelings so obvious, yet again. But you know it's true. You nod your head, “-yeah, Megumi, I do love you.” You say as sweetly as you can with his cock buried deep in you.
His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, a gorgeous smile gracing his features as he moans in your ear, “Mm, I love you too.” His hips go wild, fucking his cum deep inside you.
He leans over you, caressing your body and kissing your shoulders, “I love you so much, mm…” Megumi groans and licks your soft neck to help silence himself. His cum is dripping down your legs as he pulls out slowly. You both get washed up and lay down on your bed together.
“I can't believe you answered me like that, I didn't realise you really felt that way…” he says breathlessly, looking deep into your eyes.
“For a while now,” you say quietly, nodding and smiling up at him.
He looks so excited, pulling you on top of him and squeezing you tight, “I’m so lucky.” He sighs with relief as you return a sweet smile and sink deeper into his arms.
13: certain
You wake up late, snuggled up in Megumi's bed. He's not laying next to you but you can hear him in the kitchen next door. You get up and throw on one of his baggy jumpers which is nearly a dress on you. As you leave the bedroom you can smell something yummy.
You approach Megumi, who is bending over the stove, and cuddle him from behind, feeling his taut abs through his t-shirt.
“Hey, princess” he switches the stove off and turns to you, hugging you back and placing soft kisses on your head. “I left you sleeping…” he smiles against your skin. You look up at his dark eyes, “Mm…” you mumble, resting your head on his firm chest, feeling too sleepy for conversation.
“Oh sweet girl,” he strokes your hair, “I tired you out?” He asks with a smile. “I’m ok… just a little achy.” You admit quietly and massage your thighs.
Having sex while standing up is quite hard on your legs and hips. Not to mention your ass cheeks still feeling sensitive from Megumi's strong slaps, and the reddish purple marks on your neck sting a little. Megumi got off without a scratch as he fucked you from behind, so you couldn't even claw his back in return.
“Promise I’ll look after you today,” he kisses your lips, speaking softly. “Mm” you mumble and smile up at him. “I was so fucking horny all day yesterday, was driving me crazy. You're just so…” he groans and squeezes your waist, “so sexy… you get me so hot.”
“Was I too rough yesterday?” He asks, looking concerned. You turn around and lift up his black jumper, revealing your round ass. Megumi breathes in sharply “Shit… I'm sorry, I really hurt you, didn’t I?” He says worriedly.
“It feels so good though, Megumi… and I asked you to” you look round at him as he gently strokes your bruised ass.
He looks absolutely pitiful as he stares at you. He sighs as he pulls his jumper back over you, turning you to face him.
He brushes your hair behind your ear as he moves closer to examine your neck. His long, delicate fingers trace over the love bites he gave you last night. Megumi winces, “Oh baby…” he whispers in disbelief as he kisses you softly.
You feel his long eyelashes and warm breath on your sensitive skin as you let out a sigh. “I need to hold back a bit.” He looks into your eyes sternly.
“No, I like you how you are. You make me feel so good.” You shake your head and smile, looking up at him innocently. “I'm sure I can make you feel good without leaving these marks all over you…” he kisses and strokes you like he's trying to make the bruises disappear. “I want you to leave marks on me…” you whine, “so everyone can see…” you look up at him with big eyes.
Megumi's eyes widen as his grip tightens around your slim waist. “Fuck…” he breathes over your lips. You can feel his cock bulging through his boxers.
“You sure?” He asks as you nod in reply, “Wouldn’t want it any other way,” you bat your eyelids at him and smile softly. He pulls you into a passionate kiss as you rub up against him. Your hands snake up his shirt, feeling his hard abs and chest, stroking gently down the v line to his crotch.
He pulls away suddenly, “Baby, please, I can’t fuck you again now…” he groans, “I, I won't be able to control myself… I'm afraid I'll hurt you again…” he whines a little, his eyebrows raised.
“Don't fuck me then,” you reply simply. Your fingers snake under his waistband as you stroke his hard cock, pushing him gently against the kitchen counter. He moans and bends down over you, submitting his body to you, too horny to resist.
You pump him gently and push his boxers down. “Bite on this,” you tell him, holding his t-shirt up to his lips. He surprisingly obeys and opens his mouth, closing his sharp teeth over the cloth.
Maybe he's allowing you to do this to him to make up for last night. You kiss his exposed chest and work your way down, licking and sucking on his firm abs and pointy hips as his long fingers tangle in your hair.
You kneel down in front of him, still massaging his dick, and lick up the inside of his thigh. Your lips hover over his bulging cock, your breath making him twitch. You look up and make eye contact with him, asking for permission. He gently presses you closer, allowing you to lick his tip, swirling his precum around.
This earns you a deep groan as he grips your hair tighter. You suck the end of his cock like a lollipop, then let him pop out of your mouth. “Megumi…” you look up at him and pull his jumper off over your head, leaving you naked kneeling in front of him once again.
He groans again, still holding his t-shirt in his mouth. “Would you like me to suck you, Megumi?” You ask sweetly as you breathe over his bulging cock. His eyes are hazy with lust as he looks down at you. “You want your cock in my mouth?” You tease him a little more.
“Uh huh” he manages to mumble with his teeth gripping his shirt. “You look so hot like this, Megumi, makes me crazy…” you moan and close your mouth around his cock.
Megumi looks like he's run out of patience and you don't want to push your luck too far. You suck on his thick shaft and moan over him, looking up and enjoying the view of his muscular body.
Megumi gently grinds his hips against you, pushing himself in deeper. He moans as he bites his t-shirt harder, “Mmhhn… baby…” he mumbles through the wet fabric.
He pushes down your throat harder making you choke a little. You pull away and massage his cock with your soft hands, needing to use both to pump his length fully. “Stay still, ok,” you mutter, pushing him against the counter. “Will you behave and let me suck you?” You ask, wondering if you'll get away with this.
He looks so strained, trying to resist the strong urge to pin you down and fuck you. He nods slowly, “Mm, ‘m trying…” he moans through his shirt.
His voice is so sexy you can't resist, taking him deep into your throat. He stays perfectly still as you gag on him and massage his balls gently with your soft hands. “Fuck…” He moans as you take him all the way down.
He moans as his mouth hangs open, making his shirt drop. You whine over his cock, pushing the material back up again. He rips it off, your hand immediately finding his hard abs. You look up and make eye contact as he pushes your hair away from your face.
He slowly starts moving his hips again as he edges closer and closer to his release. “Mmhh… so close, princess… feels so good” he moans and looks down at you. You hum over his cock and take him all in, gagging and tearing up.
He grunts and growls, letting out a string of expletives as he loses control of his hips, his head rolling back as he fucks into your mouth. He tries to pull out but you grip him so tight and continue sucking him until he's fucking his cum down your throat.
“Fuck!” He screams as you swallow his hot ropes, licking up every last drop. He pants and breathes heavily, his pale face flushed pink, “So fucking good at that, princess-”
He leans against the kitchen counter as you lick him clean. He bends over and pulls you up, squeezing your naked body tightly to his.
“So, I cover you in bruises and fuck you so hard that you can't sit down or walk comfortably…” he gently strokes your ass, “and I somehow get rewarded for that behaviour?” He asks, looking confused.
“Yes.” You reply with a giggle, “I love how you fuck me, Megumi.” You smile up at his stunned face. He lets out a breathy chuckle and holds you close.
You get dressed and heat up the stew Megumi was making earlier. You eat together then take a long shower, getting dressed in Megumi’s clothes as he just wears boxers.
He stretches over the sofa as you lay on top of him, resting your head on his chest and stroking his shoulders. You feel his chest gently rising and falling, feeling his warm breath on your face.
[masterlist]
bonus chapters
#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk x reader#megumi x reader#megumi fushiguro#jujutsu kaisen#megumi fluff#megumi smut#female reader#megumi x you
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♡ ａｔｏｍｉｃ ｂｌｏｎｄｅ♡
♡ Pairing: boyfriend!mingi x chubby!fem!reader
♡ Summary: Comforting your boyfriend after he gets a new look gets you into trouble but the good kind.
♡ Genre: smut w/ a dash of fluff
♡ Word Count: 1.4kish
♡ Warnings: oral sex (m & f receiving), unprotected sex (ya'll know better), creampie, a lil spanking, scratching, nibbling, some rough play (nothing major), pet names (baby, my girl, etc).
♡ A/N: Mingi's wrecking me and I am not okay. Just FYI.
@anyamaris save me from myself
“You hate it” Mingi sighs, staring at his choppy blonde hair in the mirror. It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision to take a pair of scissors to his hair. He had no plan going into it. Only that he needed to do something…anything…different to get out of his own head. But you can see it all over his face that he's second-guessing it. Stepping into the bathroom, you dodge the clumps of fire-red hair scattered across the tiles, to get a closer look at your boyfriend’s new hair. “I love it” you smile sweetly, rocking back and forth on the balls of your feet.
Mingi watches you in the mirror for a moment, skeptical. He tousles his hair, trying and failing to style it. “It’s okay. You don’t have to lie.” You grab his arm, turning him to face you. “Hey, look at me,” you say, momentarily losing yourself in those gorgeous pools of sable he calls eyes, “When have I ever lied to you?” Mingi cracks a faint smile, his lips pressed together to keep him from full-on cheesing. “Never.” You play with his hair a bit, gathering them into small spikes. “Exactly. I think it looks pretty hot. I’d definitely throw my panties at you.”
Your comment gets a laugh out of him precisely as you intended. All you ever want to do is see that adorable smile of his. It’s your favorite thing in the world. Sometimes Mingi gets down on himself, wondering if he is, in fact, good enough in one way or another. When you feel that way, doubt weighing heavy on your shoulders, he makes sure to remind you how special you are. “Yesterday, today, and tomorrow” he likes to say. A small reminder that you were, are, and always will be perfect in his eyes.
Pinching his cheeks, you plant a quick kiss on his peachy lips. “Yesterday, today, and tomorrow, remember?” Mingi nods, feeling all of the blood rush to his cheeks. He turns back to the sink, rubbing his cheeks to chase that rosy hue away. “Anyway…” he mumbles, shifting his focus to cleaning up his mess. “Anyway?” you scoff, rolling your eyes, “I’m glad we could have such a touching conversation. I have to get started on dinner. I’m out of here.” You walk off with your arms folded across your chest and your nose in the air. As fake offended as a girl could ever be.
You make it a few steps down the hall before Mingi’s behind you, his arms around your chubby figure as he trails kisses along your neck. “What was that you were saying about throwing your panties at me?” You giggle, your body wriggling against his, “That’s what you got out of what I said? Really?” You never wear pants around the house, a habit he’s grateful for when he easily squeezes your fluffy thighs. It tickles enough that you twist away from him, stumbling backward. “Mingi…I have things to do!” He raises an eyebrow at you, taking one step forward for each one you take back.
“So do I.” “Aah!” you squeal, being pulled into an intoxicating kiss. Even with your eyes closed, paralyzed by the artful way his tongue dances with yours, you’re seeing stars. Holding you firmly by the hips, he guides you into the bedroom without even looking. Your shirt’s being pulled up over your head before you make it through the doorway with his following right behind. When he gets like this he has a one-track mind. Nothing else matters. He only wants one thing and it’s you. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, you run a hand across his lean chest, the other palming his thick bulge through those godforsaken gray sweatpants.
An invention by the devil if there ever was one. Mingi’s knees nearly buckle from the unexpected friction. Each time you brush your palm against him he gets harder and the warmth between your legs intensifies. By the time his sweatpants are at his ankles, his leaking tip on your tongue, he’s throbbing. Placing your tongue on the underside of his head, you lick upward, collecting his precum on your tongue. Mingi pets your cheek, watching intently as you take him into your mouth, your warm, tight lips hugging his length with no room to spare. “So…fucking…beautiful,” he says, each word broken by the flutter of your cheeks.
There’s something about feeling the pulsing veins of his cock through your cheek, your head rocking back and forth, that he can never get enough of. You gag the tiniest bit when he hits the back of your throat, knowing how insane it drives him when you take more than you can handle. He can already sense that familiar feeling prickling in his stomach. Shit, why were you so good at this? Mingi grabs you by the neck, not too hard, just enough to rip himself from your mouth with a wet suctioning noise. You look up at him so innocently, proud of being able to push him to the brink that quickly.
“Bend over” he commands, your gentle giant replaced with something more domineering. You slide back on the bed, spreading your legs to expose your moisture. “Only if you say please.” Without a word, he reaches out to stroke your clit through the thin lace. Your breaths grow shallow when his fingers push the fabric to the side, sinking into you until his knuckles are flush against you. “Please” he whispers, rotating his wrist at just the right angle to have you pushing against him for more only to snatch his fingers away, “Pretty…pretty…please”. “Mmhmm” you whine, tossing your panties behind you and getting on all fours.
This view of you is so tempting. That juicy ass of yours sticking out. Your pussy so wet and desperate to take him. Taking a deep breath, he gets his head together. Not yet. A marvelous sting radiates through your body when he palms your ass with a slap, pushing you forward to lap at your entrance. “Mingi, fuck, yes” you’re moaning and he’s thrusting his tongue into you. He brings his fingers back up to massage between your petal-soft folds. Each time your body quivers, pert nipples dragging against the bed heightening your pleasure, it only deepens his hunger for you. The way he’s devouring you, drinking you down like a man who hasn’t had water in days, has you screaming every filthy word you know into the sheets.
Shit. Fuck. Goddamn it. Motherfucker. “Fuck me. Fuck me. Fuck me” you cry out, nearly throwing a tantrum, an explosion brewing in your core. You feel his husky laugh vibrate against you. “What was that?” he taunts, flipping you onto your back and climbing on top of you. You lick yourself off of his lips, dragging him into a kiss. “Fuck…me” you moan down his throat. He drives into you, your body immediately erupting into shivers as your walls clamp around him. Your world's shattering. Your heart's racing. Is he trying to kill me? The room’s spinning. You’re lightheaded. I might be dying. Worth it.
“Is my girl gonna cum for me?” he’s almost singing, nibbling at your bottom lip. Your nails digging into his back is as close to an answer as he’s gonna get and it’s enough for his motions to grow harsher. Your ears are ringing, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Such a mess you’re making creaming all over him like this. “That’s it, baby. Mmm” he coos, keeping his pace even as the overstimulation tears you apart, but that doesn’t last long. Soon his motor skills go to hell and he’s pouring into you, whispering praises into your cleavage.
Your bodies go limp together, your muscles as strong as a pot of boiled spaghetti. Mingi flops down beside you, struggling to catch his breath. Out of the corner of your eye, you see your panties near your head. You pick them up, throwing them on his head. “There, I threw my panties at you.” “I’ll…treasure…these…forever” he pants, twirling them around his finger. You cozy up to him, resting your head on his chest. “You know, that’d be a nice color on you.” “Hmm?” You gesture towards your panties, “The pink.” Mingi stares at them, weighing his options. “Pink” he sighs, kissing you on the bridge of your nose, “I like it.”
#mingi x reader#mingi x you#mingi x y/n#ateez x y/n#ateez x chubby reader#ateez x reader#ateez x you#chubby smut#plus size smut#chubby reader#plus size reader
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