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cdragons · 3 months

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Fuck Everything, But Mostly Fuck You

Next Part

Summary: You have never, EVER, in a million years hated anyone the way you hated Felix fucking Catton.

Warnings- MDNI 18+, Felix is delulu, Reader is stressed and homesick and kinda crazy but she a baddie, Michael is Michael, Farleigh is Farleigh, Oliver will be Oliver (a creep), and author has spent too much time researching Oxford crap for this mess for a crack fic to be a crack fic

Author's Note: This fic is a follow-up to this post and I would like to thank grammarly for catching all my grammatical errors 🥲, @ethereal-athalia for enabling my crazy ideas 🥰, and @valeskafics for providing me Saltburn smut when I catch myself thirsting 😇

“FUCK!” you yelled at the top of your lungs just before your nose slammed down on the dewy grass.

Groaning in pain before the mortification of realizing what had just happened kicked in.

You didn’t know what was worse: the fact you had a full front view of the giant’s junk or that he body-slammed you onto the ground and caused you to land on top of the painting worth 30% of your final grade.

You wanted to scream your head off. The paint had finally dried, and you could finally leave the studio at two in the morning. It was close to finals, and pretty much anyone on campus who didn’t get accepted because of their daddy’s bank account was in their dorms. You had hoped that this fact would mean that the paths were empty and, therefore, safe to transport your 30” x 40” canvas.

“SORRY!”

You shot your head up to locate the person who just apologized. Lo’ and behold, it was the same plastered, pasty cunt with a bird’s nest disaster of a haircut drunken idiot who decided it was a good idea to go streaking across campus. His only other distinguishable features were that he was at least 6’3” and that he had a small steel piece pierced on his face.

After the “apology,” he and his friend continued running off to God’s knows where in the dead of night—leaving you behind on the lawn with a bleeding nose, bruised knees and palms, and an oil painting that was torn and caked in mud three days before its deadline.

There was no way to redo it. The project was assigned at the beginning of October. It took 5 hours to set up the models with the motifs and lights, 3 hours to take pictures, and 10 hours to underdraw the preliminary sketch. You didn’t even want to think about the sheer number of sleepless nights you spent in the studio mixing colors and layering. On top of that, you also had your other finals in other courses to study for.

You had practically been living in that studio for the past month. All of the custodians and security guards knew you by name. You got first dibs every day when they refilled the vending machines. It was a true godsend when you didn’t have time to visit the dining halls. Everyone had been so kind and sweet to you. It was a warm welcome compared to the snark and snobbery you experienced from most of your classmates.

Crying from the devastation of the loss of your situation, your shaking legs carried your body and what remained of your work into the building. You knew that your professor stayed in her office late for grading. You could only hope that she would sympathize with your pitiful appearance.

“Wait, so did you get the extension?”

Lifting your head from the sticky library table at Bodleian’s, you stared at your best only friend, Michael Gavey, with a blank stare. You didn’t react to his wince after he took in your haggard appearance. You didn’t need a mirror to know that you looked terrible.

Your eyes were puffy and bloodshot red with dark mulberry bags underneath them. You had paled since coming to dreary England, but now you looked straight-up sickly. And if that wasn’t enough, your eyes had less life than a dead fish rotting at a Sunday Market.

Your voice was so meek that you were sure he had to strain to hear you.

“Yeah…I got it.”

You knew you had no choice but to beg your Studio Arts professor for an extension. But it killed you doing it. Professor Daria Martin was your favorite teacher and the only faculty member who actually liked you. Her support toward you meant everything to you; the last thing you wanted to do was disappoint her, let alone be the reason why she lost her job.

Your usually so snarky four-eyed friend perked up at the news.

“So, is everything okay?” he asked with hope.

Your head fell on neon-yellow ink-stained pages that filled the paperweight your ethics professor called a textbook. A bitter laugh fell from as your lips lifted to a wry, dry grin.

“Oof, not that simple, is it?” he asked.

“Is it ever?”

“So what do you have to do now?”

“Well-,” you lifted your head to take a deep breath as you started to explain, “- I still have the photos and copies of the sketch. But because the canvas was so large, it was special-ordered. That means I need to wait until another one can be delivered, and since all the works need to be completed in the studio, I can’t leave the campus.”

As you finished your explanation, Michael nodded his head in understanding before he paused, and a look of devastation painted his features.

“Wait, so does that mean-”

“I won’t be able to fly back home for the holidays.”

Fuck, you were about to cry again. You had been so excited to see your old friends and family. You remembered how absolutely homesick you were at the beginning of the term. Because you were a scholarship student from America, your parents encouraged you to settle on campus by moving to your dorm earlier than everyone else. It was bad enough that you missed Thanksgiving, but you had really set your heart on coming home for Christmas and New Year’s. What made it worse was that your parents had told you all about the dinner they had planned for your homecoming. It was going to be a feast of all your favorites.

English food sucked balls.

Your only saving grace was the Crunchie bars Michael got for you when you studied together or when you had to rewrite edit his essays.

You really DID cry after first reading his essay for Introductory English class at the beginning of the year.

“Did you try to report it?”

“Report what? ‘Hey, there’s a wasted asshole running naked across campus, and he body-slammed me to the ground and tore my fucking massive campus that blocked my view of the jackass. He’s probably richer than the goddamn Queen, given how he’s wasted right before finals.’”

“Do you have any description of him?”

“He’s a giant with a small eyebrow piercing, and his fat ass looked like it had never seen the sun.”

Without lifting your head, you heard the scrape of Michael’s chair before he walked across the table to sit in the chair next to you.

“Hey,” he began, bringing you into a warm arm hug, “it’ll be okay. You called your parents about it, right?”

“Yeah -” you sighed before continuing, “- they told me they understood and would Skype me daily.”

“See! Everything’s going to be – wait, did you say that this guy was tall?”

Furrowing your brow in confusion, you looked at your friend at the change in his tone from light and supportive to sharp and interrogative.

“Yeah?”

“How tall?”

“Umm,” you had to think about that, “I’d say he was about 6’3” or above? He was really fucking tall.”

“And he had an eyebrow piercing?”

Ok, now you were really confused. “Yes? Michael, where are you going with this?”

“I think the guy who ran you over was Felix Catton.”

You shot your favorite idiot with a deadpan glare.

“Felix Catton? The same Felix Catton who just so happens to be the same Felix Catton you hate?”

Michael solemnly nodded. “It’s him. It has to be. The only person on campus as tall as him is his cousin, and he doesn’t have piercings.”

“And he’s black.”

“Yeah, that too.”

You were skeptical, and it showed. You didn’t want to callously dismiss your friend, but you knew more than anyone how much his hatred for Oxford’s Golden Boy could impair his judgment. You were by no means a fan of the guy, but accusing someone of anything they didn’t do just because your friend thought so went against your principles.

He grabbed your arm and dragged you to the bookshelf in front of the table where Felix and his groupies sat. Both of your books and bags were in your chairs, but you managed to keep your spiral notebook with you. It wasn’t hard to find them – they were the loudest table in the entire library. They also reeked of cigarettes and booze.

“See?” Michael hissed. “Giant, pale, and eyebrow piercing. It’s him!”

“Michael,” you softly groaned, “just because you hate Felix Catton doesn’t mean you can –”

An extremely shrill voice interrupted you.

“I can’t believe you and Farleigh actually ran around campus naked!”

A petite girl with full pink lips and dull red hair latched on the arm of the man of the hour. “It was so hot to watch!”

This girl has weird-ass tastes in guys.

“And then how you crashed into that dunce at Ruskin! Brilliant!”

Your blood ran cold while another one of Catton’s faceless droning puppets chimed in.

“God, what an idiot! It’s their own fault, anyway. Who the fuck walks in the middle of the walk path with a fucking big canvas in front of them?”

One of the lessons hammered into your skull young was never to move before you think. That lesson had saved you ten ways from Sunday. But this was not one of those times.

You’re pretty sure that you hear Michael calling out your name as you walk away from the shelf and towards the overcrowded table. Tunnel vision took over you as you made your way to the overgrown idiot who almost cost you your entire future.

Grabbing the back of his shirt collar, you dragged the 6’5” towering fool on his ass all the way outside. You finally let go when the two of you reached the back of the building that had no windows.

“Hey, what the fu –”

You didn’t let him finish as you brought your fist to hit him square in the face – and, fuck, did you relish the crunch that immediately followed your swing.

Fuck, was his head killing him.

Felix should have known better than to have gotten cross-faded last night, but Farleigh had practically goaded him to do it. It’s not like his cousin ever had to worry about his grades for any of his courses during finals – the little shit-starter had always been so fucking academically gifted.

He skipped pretty much all of his morning classes and barely made it to his afternoon schedule on time while completely zoning out the entire time.

If he bombs on all his finals, his dad was going to absolutely murder him. But chances were he and his mum were going to be too busy entertaining whichever new friend his mum brought in for shelter.

“You alright there, champ?”

Felix swiveled his head too quickly and immediately groaned in pain. The motion made his hangover even worse. Rubbing his eyes to try to soothe the pounding in his head, he slowly opened them to look at his cousin.

The slag didn’t have the decency to look even a little bit affected from last night’s event – the fucker. No, he was sitting there with all Cheshire grins and gleaming eyes while Felix was two seconds from heaving his guts out.

“Yeah, I’m alright, mate.” He replied in a tired groan.

“Must have been quite the night. Wonder if it had anything to do with that little cocktail you took from our sweet Annabel’s belly button?”

Disgust was clear on Felix’s face as he recalled the body shot he had taken from his ex-FWB’s navel. He truly must have been off his rocker last night – he thought he was over with body shots since graduating secondary, but apparently not.

If he somehow got an STD from doing it, V was going to kill him.

But even with all of his horrible actions that caused the raging war inside his skull, that wasn’t the main cause of his misery.

Farleigh’s grin dropped as judgment painted his features.

“Oh,” he moaned, “please tell me this isn’t about ‘your angel’ from last night.”

He didn’t just take the dare of streaking across the grounds just for the hell of it. He needed an excuse to pass through the art building – all for the chance of seeing you.

You. His angel of paints and books who lived in the empty studio rooms of Oxford University’s Ruskin School of Art and whose presence harangued him every hour of every day. Everywhere Felix went, he would unconsciously look for you.

It was his soul calling out for yours – he knew it.

Felix had never felt so drawn to another human being in his entire existence. He’d never seen you outside of the libraries, art building, and maybe the dining hall if he was lucky. You never went to any parties or even had a drink at the pub at King’s Arms. He didn’t even have classes with you, but he knew Farleigh did. Word was that you and his cousin had shared a few classes – what’s more was that you were likely the only person who could go head-to-head with him in academics.

And to make it worse, the prat refused to tell him anything about you – not even your fucking name.

“Believe me,” he told him after Felix had been begging his cousin for hours to share anything about you, “she is way above your league.”

Which really hurt his feelings, by the way – sure, you were probably way above in book smarts, but there wasn’t a girl that remained indifferent to his charms after a good talking fucking.

“I still can’t believe you won’t at least tell me her name,” Felix complained once more, “or even just give me her number!”

“She’s an American here on scholarship and a bore,” he quipped back, “what’s there to tell? And can you please shut up? I want to get some reading done before tonight. You do remember the in-class essay we have tomorrow, right?”

Bloody hell, he did not. Pushing down the bitter feeling in his chest, he and his cousin made their way to meet everyone at the back. As soon as he sat down, Annabel clung on to his arm. Thank fuck he had been wearing one of his thicker jumpers – otherwise, her claws that she called nails would have ripped open the fabric.

“Hey, Felix!” she made sure to offer a very generous sight of her cleavage, “are you ready for tonight?”

Felix chuckled lowly before responding. “Aren’t I always?”

And just like that – he completely zoned out the rest of the conversation.

Annabel was probably saying something to get him to notice her, and Farleigh was likely responding so he wouldn’t have to – but Felix couldn’t be bothered to pretend to care.

He was lost in the living daydream that was his angel that haunted the art studios of Ruskin School of Art.

He was desperate to learn everything about you.

If he asked you to talk about your favorite books, would your eyes sparkle in delight, or would your smile widen in glee?

If he grabbed your hand, would your palms feel marred by his rough skin, or would you press your callouses to his?

If he pressed his mouth on yours, would your lips feel as soft and plump as they look? Or was their luster forever damaged by your teeth biting them whenever you were in deep concentration?

If he breathed in your scent at the crook of your neck, would your skin smell like the paints forever on your brushes or the musky pages of heavy ancient books you always carried in your arms?

If he planted kisses from your throat to your breasts, would you mewl in pleasure or whimper in anticipation?

If he touched your cunt, would you arch your back in ecstasy? Or would your legs crumble, and you would have no choice but to sink into his arms?

Felix’s thoughts were rudely interrupted when Farleigh jammed his bony elbow into his ribcage and hurriedly whispered.

“Look alive, Golden Boy.”

Looking forward, it was better than any of his wet dreams combined. It was you.

Your hair was loose, and your fists were clenched. You reminded him of a ferocious lion goddess with how focused your gaze was on him.

But before Felix would prepare himself to make a good impression, you walked behind him and grabbed the back of his shirt collar before fucking dragging his ass out of his seat and outside.

Bloody hell, for someone so much shorter than him, you were fucking strong.

When you finally released your grip, he fell on the ground like an idiot before he tried to stand and steady himself as quickly as he could.

“Hey, what the fu –”

You didn’t let him finish as you brought your fist to hit him square in the face – and, fuck, you might have actually broken his nose.

After staggering back, you started using the spiral notebook in your other hand to land blow after painful blow on his body.

“YOU. STUPID. FUCKING. INGRATE –” Each word that left your mouth was emphasized with another hit from your notebook “– I. HATE. YOU. YOU. RUINED. MY. PAINTING. I. SPENT. SO. MUCH. TIME. ON. IT. AND. NOW. I. CAN’T. GO. HOME. FOR. BREAK. BECAUSE. OF. YOUR. STUPID. SELF!”

Felix was confident you had more to say, but you were pulled off him by your friend – he’s pretty sure it’s Mitchell – by the waist with you kicking and screaming out profanities to him as your friend called out your name to try to calm you down.

He wondered what it said about him if he told anyone how much you looked like an angry cat. His parents would send him to a shrink if he told them how adorable he found you right now.

If you were this wild while fighting, he could only imagine how riled up you would get in bed.

Fuck, you might have just unlocked a new kink in him.

Catching his breath as he watched your friend drag you away into the distance, he heard a slow clap to his left.

Farleigh was leaning on the corner – his smug expression making it clear that he had seen the whole thing – as he looked at his cousin with a bemused expression before walking toward him and giving a sympathetic pat on his back.

“Well,” he started to break the tension, “at least you know her name.”

“Yeah,” Felix agreed, “I know her name.”

And he knew that you smelled more like the paints on your brushes than the books you carried with subtle notes of gardenias.

Tagging: @aemondsbabe, @ethereal-athalia, @aphroditesmoon, @barbiedragon, @valeskafics, @lexyysworld, @punkiwiki, @saltburnedme, @arcielee

Let me know if you want to be tagged for future Saltburn fics!

#saltburn x reader #saltburn #saltburn crack #saltburn au #felix catton x reader #farleigh catton #farleigh start #venetia catton #oliver quick #michael gavey #saltburn 2023 #saltburn movie #michael gavey x reader

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hajimeseyo · 3 months

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(part 1 here! it's not required for reading this piece, but they are connected!)

The second time you meet Izana is completely unexpected.

You hadn’t expected to see the pretty boy from the convenience store anytime soon after your first meeting; sure, he had gotten your name and you had gotten his. But besides that, there wasn’t really any way for you to find each other, and it’s not like you were the type to go around to every high school in the vicinity looking for an ‘Izana’. You just figured that you’d see him when you see him.

You definitely weren’t expecting the next time you see him to be right outside your school gates, however.

“Izana?!” The exclamation draws the boy’s attention to you, along with the attention of nearly all the students nearby. You clamp your mouth shut, face reddening at the feeling of the curious glances sent your way.

“Hey, [name].” He greets you casually, as if he didn't just completely show up out of nowhere, at the place where you least expected him to be.

“What are you doing here?” A sudden thought strikes you. “You don't…go here, do you…?”

“No. I don't go to school at all.”

A snort of laughter escapes you before you can stop it.

He sends you a sharp smirk at that, pushing himself off where he was leaning against the bars of the school gate. “I'm here to pick up a certain someone from school.”

“Oh.” Disappointment flares up inside you, but you push it down. “I see. I didn’t know you knew anyone from my school! What a coincidence.”

“...”

“...?”

You tilt your head in confusion as he stares blankly at you, gaze unreadable and unmoving. Why was he staring at you? Did you say something wrong or–

“Oh!” The realization hits you all of a sudden. Your hand flies up to point at yourself. “Did you mean me???”

He finally moves again at that, nodding his head with a wry smile on his face.

“Oh!” You feel your face heat up again. “Sorry, I don't know why I thought it was someone else.” You rub the back of your neck sheepishly. “I guess I wasn't expecting it to be me.”

He lets out a chuckle, hands smoothly swiping your school bag from your hands and slinging it over his shoulder before you can stop him. “If not you, then who?”

You roll your eyes jokingly. “I don't know, literally anybody else?”

“There's very few people that I would willingly make an effort to pick up.” He bends down slightly to your eye level, and your breath stutters a little at the sudden close up of his beautiful face. “You should consider yourself lucky.”

Recovering, you decide to play along, sending him a teasing smile. “Sure, whatever you say, pretty boy.”

His eyes narrow slightly, the corner of his lips curling upwards. “Oh? I'm ‘pretty boy’ now?”

You giggle, a little bashfully. “Can I call you that?” You ask timidly, unsure of his preference towards the nickname.

His playful expression softens into something gentle. “You can call me anything you want, [name].”

Your heart skips a beat at the soft expression on his face, eyes never leaving yours, almost as if the look was meant for you and you only.

“Now,” He straightens up, snapping you out of whatever daze he put you in. “Let’s go.” He begins walking away, your bag still in his hand, and you hurriedly chase after him.

“Wait wait wait, go where??”

“There's this café I've been wanting to go to for a while now.” He casually replies, not paying your confused look any mind. “So we're going today.”

You could feel butterflies in your stomach.

Was this…?

His way of asking you out on a date…?

You quietly study the side of his face as the two of you walk alongside each other, eyes tracing over every line and bridge of the ethereal features that had captured your attention since the first time you caught a glance. His face is relaxed, almost peaceful.

…Well, whether it was or not, you suppose it doesn't really matter at the moment.

You fake a heavy sigh, although you can't help the smile creeping onto your face. “I suppose I don't have a say in the matter now, do I?”

He grins smugly. It's surprisingly cute.

“No, not really.”

After all, time will tell.

For now, you'll just enjoy this afternoon by his side.

("Wait a minute...how did you know which school I go to?"

"..."

"I-Izana???"

"...Don't worry about it 😁."

"IZANA???")

#i like to think that he stalked the reader after their first meeting #not in a creepy stalker way just following them whenever they went out to see which places they frequent #prolly wanted to appear cool and mysterious by showing up out of nowhere #at least it worked out for him ig #izana #izana kurokawa #izana x reader #izana kurokawa x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #my writing

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months

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ok what if reader is also a vigilante?

reader and Jason met in their civilian identities, and after a while they start dating. but like, neither of them tells the other one about their vigilante identities? and then something random happens and they both find out in a funny way?

(alsooo can I be 🐈‍⬛? :3)

Idk if this is considered ‘funny’ but I tired, oh and Yes, you may be 🐈‍⬛ anon. 🦦

When you first met Jason in the cosy book store, you were far too concerned with keeping your stint as a vigilante as close to a secret as possible, so much so that the mere aspect of dating wasn’t something you contemplated on a day to day basis; Never less dating a civilian when you’re fighting street level thugs. However you couldn’t help but get lost in the beauty of his smile, his eyes and the way he ran his hand through his hair.

All you were aware in that moment was that Jason is just perfection in a six foot something frame. He was just that beautiful that you couldn’t find yourself looking away from him, ever; It had to be illegal to be that beautiful.

When Jason first met you in the cosy book store, trying to reach for a book that was just out of reach, he was far too concerned about the new vigilante that had taken to the street of Gotham. Nightshade was their name and they obviously had natural talent but were still sloppy in some areas, but they showed enough promise in their debut outing to be apart of the Outlaws. Dating was the last thing he needed honestly, despite affection, loyalty and love were something he deeply longer for more so then anything, however he felt a little tempted by the idea when you gave him a look of gratitude as he handed you the book was enough to set him alight.

‘Jason.’ He blurted.

‘Come again?’ You asked.

‘My name. It’s Jason.’ He clarified, internally cursing himself for making himself looking like a right idiot in front of you, but you just had that effect on him and it hadn’t even been ten minutes upon meeting you. Was he really that depraved? He asked himself as in that very moment you decided to smile at him, which gave him his answer that yes, he was indeed that depraved for a genuine connection. ‘Well it’s nice to meet you Jason. I’m y/n.’ You greeted, finding Jason absolutely endearing and insufferably cute. ‘Do you often help people with books or is it just a one time thing?’ You then asked, holding the book close to your chest, biting the inside of your cheek.

‘I don’t come here as often as I promised myself I would, so consider this as a rare occurrence.’ Jason shrugged, leaning against the shelf. ‘So do you come here often or are you a fellow procrastinator?’ You chuckled and Jason has to pat himself on the back for that one. He managed to make you laugh and god did it sound ethereal. ‘I’m kinda a fellow procrastinator but that’s because I’ve been busy with life and such.’ You told him, not wanting to admit to everything to a conventionally attractive man you’ve just met at a small, run down book store just yet; You didn’t want to fuck this up for yourself.

‘Oh yeah? Then maybe if you come here more often, I’ll have more of a reason to stop by other than the books.’ Jason said and you felt your smile even wider and tighten your grip on the book, casting your eyes to the floor. Curse this beautiful man for making you feel like a silly little schoolgirl either way a crush, it was both embarrassing as it was all consuming. ‘Sounds like you’re asking me on a date, mr Jason.’

Jason shrugs. ‘Maybe I am, maybe I’m not. I mean is it wrong for me to want to get to know you better?’

‘I guess it wouldn’t hurt.’ You admitted.

‘So it’s a date?’ Jason asked, anticipating your answer.

‘Yeah. It’s a date.’ You replied, feeling a warmth flood through your body, followed by a feeling of nervousness simultaneously it was hard to figure out which feeling you should focus on.

Several book store dates, skirting your obvious feelings for one another and moving into his apartment later, you and Jason were officially a couple: and a happy one at that. And yet despite sharing everything to one another, every deep secret you’ve ever kept in your entire life and yet the one secret neither of you chose to disclose was your vigilante identities, and for simple and justifiable reasons on both your parts; You didn’t want Jason to be brought into the crossfire as a casualty and Jason didn’t want you to get hurt because of the dangerous people he wronged as RedHood. You’ve both hated yourselves for keeping a tight lid on your vigilantism but you knew it was for the betterment of the other, after all ignorance was indeed -on some occasions- bliss.

However on this very night, everything you and Jason have ever hidden from the other had decided to come to light but not in a way that’d either of you were expecting.

You and Jason were cuddled up on the couch and enjoying a peaceful evening in together, seeing as for a week straight both of you have had your hands full with capturing and clearing the streets of Gotham of thugs, goons and drug dealers, and actually getting the golden opportunity to act like an ordinary couple and shower the other in the love and affection that you’ve both been aching for the entire week.

‘You need to get some better sleep Jaybirdie, I can see dark bags starting to form under your eyes.’ You mutter softly as you run your calloused thumbs under his eyes, naturally concerned for his health and well-being. ‘Are you saying that I’m not that appealing to look at anymore because I’m developing eye bags? How shallow of you babe.’ Jason joked as he moved his face from your hands and looking away from you with a pout on his lips.

You laughed, reaching to hold his face in your hands again and gently made him look at you. ‘Stop being dramatic my little Jay bird, I think you make eyes bags work for you but I just don’t like the idea of you staying up longer than you should.’ You said as you kissed his lips and then under his eyes, feeling him hum in content as he dragged you into him tightly. ‘I appreciate the compliment babe.’ He said as he pressed a kiss to your head, closing his eyes as he breathed you in deeply. ‘I’m sorry we haven’t had enough time with each other lately.’

You burrowed yourself deeper into him, hands clutching at his shirt. ‘it’s okay Jason and besides I should sorry too because there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while now. I hope you don’t hate me afterwards.’ You admit, scared that this might break your beautiful relationship with the sweetest man you’ve ever met, who had been nothing but unquestionably loyal to you through and through. ‘You could do no wrong pretty baby,’ Jason cooed, ‘but since we’re sharing things, I have something that I’ve been keeping from you also sweetheart.’ Jason said as he feared that he’d only be scaring you away afterwards and he can only hope that you’d stay and hear him out.

‘No, Jason you don’t-‘ you were cut off by the sound of two emergency alerts going off from your shared bedroom and before leaping off of Jason’s lap, much to his displeasure and worry, and rushed towards the bedroom with Jason hot on your heels going on about something you couldn’t quite make out over the noise of the emergency alerts. It was rare that it goes off and when it does, it’s when someone like scarecrow or Joker has made a reemergence to the public and when they do, nothin good ever comes to pass.

Within the depths of your shared closet in your bedroom were two equal sized duffel bags. Inside these duffel bags held everything to do with your vigilante personas that you and Jason had hastily shoved inside, and all before you officially moved into his apartment too. You never touched his out of respect for him and he never touched yours out of respect also, you both knew which one belong to who as they also sat just beneath your own civilians clothes, that and the fact that Jason’s duffel bag was a lot more beat up and rugged compared to yours which only had slight wears and tears; but other then that it was relatively a new bag.

Right of this moment however you didn’t stop to think about which bag you’ve picked up because before you knew it you had locked yourself within the bathroom, just about ready to change into your attire, when you were face to face with a familiar red helmet causing you to freeze in place. While you were trying to grasp the idea that your beautiful, beautiful Jason was the ruthless RedHood, a knock on the bathroom door broke you from your thoughts, and you automatically knew that Jason saw your vigilante attire and was feeling a similar sort of confusion towards you as you were about him. You placed the red helmet back into the duffle bag, zipped it shut before unlocking and opening the door wide enough for Jason to hold out your duffel bag towards you.

‘I believe this is yours sweetheart.’ He said awkwardly.

‘Thank you Jaybirdie.’ You mutter as you took the bag off of him, placing it down on the toilet seat as you picked up his duffel bag and handed it to him through the gap in the doorway. ‘I believe this belongs to you.’

‘Thank you sweetheart.’ Jason replied as he took the bag off of your hands as an uncomfortable air of silence followed as you both stood on either sides of the door, not knowing how to properly address the situation. Until… ‘I knew I recognise that ass in spandex anywhere.’

‘JASON!’ You exclaimed, face becoming flushed.

‘What? It’s true you’ve got a distinctly shaped ass! So of course I’m going to recognise it!’ Jason replied, throwing his hands up in the air.

‘So you’ve admitted to staring at my ass like a perv?’ You asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

Jason pushed the bathroom door open fully to get closer to you and hold your face in his hands. ‘Don’t start acting like you haven’t stared at my ass like a perv, perv.’ He says with a chuckle upon seeing the expression upon your face, pressing kisses from your forehead and all the way down to the tip of your nose. ‘I thought you wouldn’t notice.’ You murmur softly, making Jason laugh as he lead you out of the bathroom and into the bedroom, where he then sat you down on the end of the bed and held your hand.

‘Well unfortunately for you, I do notice and I can’t say I don’t like the attention that I’d get for my charming parent.’ Jason says as he kisses the back of your hand. ‘You’re not mad that I’m a vigilante and have been keeping it from you all this time?’ You asked, running your thumb over his hand. ‘No because it would be quite hypocritical if I did because I’ve been keeping the same secret hidden from you also. Would you be mad at me being RedHood?’ Jason asked and you immeditly replied ‘no because I know you did so to keep me safe.’

‘Ans I know that you didn’t tell me for the exact same reason.’ Jason butted in. ‘Now that we know however, this just means that we’re even more of a kick ass couple because we literally kick ass every night and I couldn’t be more prouder of you baby.’ He add as he presses kisses to your face, making you chuckle before pulling away. ‘But that doesn’t mean I won’t stop worry about my baby. So expect a whole lot of team ups in the future okay chipmunk?’ You pressed a kiss to his cheek before stealing one from his lips as you stood up from the bed, tugging at his arm. ‘Why don’t we start teaming up now? RedHood and Nightshade, they’ll never see us coming by a long shot!’ You said and Jason couldn’t help but smile at your excitement as he then stood up, groaning dramatically. ‘Alright, alright, quick pulling my arm and get changed so we can go catch us some bad guys.’

You beamed brightly as you stole another kiss from his lips. ‘I love you Jaybirdie.’

‘The things I do for you buttercup.’ Jason spoke against your lips as he kisses you again.

#jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagines #jason todd fanfic #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fic #dc x y/n #dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc comics x reader #dc fic #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction

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aureatchi · 4 months

Text

⛇₊˚ .࿐₊˚✧ BUBBLES IN MY CHAMPAGNE, LET IT BE SOME JAZZ PLAYIN’ . . .OSAMU DAZAI

⟢ SYNOPSIS. the port-mafia was infamous for throwing glamorous holiday parties every year. not only were you attending this time, but you were also finally going to be introduced as the port-mafia boss’ pretty girlfriend! or…that was the plan.

of course, things never go according to plan.

a/n. merry christmas !! adding onto the xmas dazai fics jdjsjwn <3 this one’s vv chaotic.

info. fem!reader. pm boss!dazai. pm exec!reader. fluff, angst, pinch of sugg. there’s DRAMA. mentions of drinking. lil jealousy. dazai is a 💩. the pm is filthy rich lmao. pazenia is a made up country. wc. 3.4k

“Oh my.”

“How do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful.”

The brunette chuckled as he waltzed towards you. You saw him appear behind you through the sizeable full-body mirror, wrapping his arms around your waist as you finished applying your lipstick.

“It looks even better on you.” Dazai’s fingers wandered playfully, tracing the curves the red dress he gifted you hugged so well. The tailoring was so impressive—the dress could fit noone else but you. And indeed, it was made exclusively for you, for the largest and most luxe corporate event of the year.

It was the Port Mafia Christmas party. Everyone was required to attend, and plus-ones were allowed too, stirring even more chaos into the affair. You were a Port Mafia executive—of course you were going, but the night was going to be unique for another reason.

Tonight, the Port Mafia boss would confirm all the rumors…all the gossip circulating the past few months. He was finally making your relationship with him official in front of everyone.

As if everyone still doesn’t know.

Yet you were nervous. Keeping things an enigma actually worked in your favor—besides suspicious stares with muffled voices and jealous women, you didn’t have to worry about much. Dazai would take care of any problem. After all, you trusted him completely.

But now, everyone would know. You and Dazai had gone through all the downsides—you could become a potential target for any enemies, your name would rise even higher on the wanted list, and you could be stalked by frustrated, jealous men…honestly, you two were almost too hot for your own wellbeing.

Just almost, because “I’ll take care of it all. I’ll make sure nothing ever hurts you, darling.”

He whispered those words into your ear, sensing your anxiousness as you continued to look at your reflections.

“Please don’t worry.”

He did not speak in his usual teasing, playfully amorous voice. The brunette’s face matched the seriousness of the topic you had both gone over multiple times, making sure that the other wanted to still go through with it. You both didn’t want to force the decision of your relationship upon the other—though it was Dazai who had suggested the idea, the choice rested entirely on you. He ensured you knew you could change your mind anytime you wanted.

And Dazai wished you could see that he truly, would go to the ends of universes to make sure you were safe.

You gave him a reassuring smile. “I won’t,” you replied. “I’m only worried about you. I need to be by your side at all times to fight any bad guys that come for you.”

And girls. If you were being honest, you always felt a bit sick thinking about other women wanting him. Maybe this is why your nerves hadn’t backed you out yet…you wanted everyone to know their leader was indeed taken.

Dazai laughed more heartily than he intended to at the comment. He, the now Port Mafia superior commander, known even before as the Demon Prodigy, was being talked to in concern that he needed a sidekick to help him.

Though, he was also the same man whose mind was full of fervor for one girl. You giggled, seeing the apparent blush on Dazai’s face when you fixed his black tie. He was matching with you, of course—his red attire was the ruby scarf.

“Perfect,” you mused when you were done. “Wow, you’re handsome.“

“And you’re ethereal,” Dazai responded, putting on your coat. “Ready to go shock everyone?”

“As if half of the mafia doesn’t already suspect anything between us, Osamu,” you smiled.

“Hmm…you’re right.

“Of course they’d think I’d sought after the prettiest woman in the world.” A coy grin snuck back onto his lips.

…

It was evident your lover had good taste, not only in outfits. He chose to rent out one of the big hotels as the venue for the party—very fitting for the filthy-rich organization.

The first thing you noticed when you stepped out of the limo was the massive Christmas tree in the center of the hall.

“Woah.” There were at least fifty gifts under it already.

You noticed Dazai’s brows suddenly furrow as he, too, inspected the presents.

“Osamu?”

“Bella, remind me who this person is again.”

He picked up a present, showing you a familiar name.

“Oh!” He was the assistant under your wing. You two had worked together for years—you had built up a lot of trust and a friendship to have him in charge of some of your responsibilities.

“I see. Don’t mind that; I forget some of my men sometimes.”

You nodded, though you felt a bit unsure about his response. Regardless, you cast the thought aside.

What you didn’t notice was the way Dazai showed you the package. The present was from your assistant, but the name it was for was entirely covered by the brunette’s hand.

“Well, are you ready to go in?” Dazai asked, holding out a hand towards you.

“Yeah, I’m-”

“Dazai!”

It was Kouyou, another executive. She saw you and greeted you, too.

“My, you’re looking lovely today,” she chirped. “So you and the boss are dating.”

You smiled. “Yes.”

“Well, better tell everyone soon,” she told the both of you. “Dazai, a daughter of a very infamous organization in Europe, is at this party as a plus-one. She wants to discuss a business proposal…‘as soon as possible,’ she said. It’s confidential, too; she only wants you. Do you have a few moments to spare?”

Dazai immediately turned toward you, to which you nodded at him. “It seems important, especially if she’s from Europe.”

“You’re sure?” Dazai asked. You were supposed to walk into the dining hall together to introduce yourselves as the power couple of the evening. “What about…”

“Yeah, the mafia is the priority. I’ll find you soon.” You were an executive, after all. The mafia existed to protect Yokohama City, so work should be an urgency.

“Alright,” he replied. He took another look at you—a singular, amber eye softened once he met your gaze. The other was hidden behind bandages, and so were the emotions of his heart. You couldn’t tell what he was feeling at the moment.

“Let’s go, big sis.” He turned towards Kouyou, who led him out of the room.

Now alone, not counting the guards, you glanced at the presents again, picking up the one Dazai had previously questioned you about.

Oh! Your assistant gave you a present. You found it sweet; your assistant hadn’t gifted you anything until this year. Now Dazai’s reaction made sense—perhaps he had thought you had a secret admirer or something. You giggled at his assumed jealousy.

…

You walked inside the dining hall by yourself, a large crowd already entertaining themselves inside. Everyone who saw you stopped to greet you—their executive, and you wished them a merry Christmas back with a friendly smile.

“Huh? So she’s not dating him?”

You turned your head the slightest, pretending to grab a drink while you instead eavesdropped on two employees you hardly knew. Thank goodness they weren’t the ones going out on missions to spy—they were terrible at not being obvious.

“I’m not sure. But that underground aristocrat from Europe that everyone knows has a crush on the boss showed up to meet him. That huge Christmas tree by the staircases is actually a gift from her.”

“Really?! So…maybe she was the boss’ plus-one? Now that’s wild. Everyone really had me believing he was seeing the executive.”

“Yo!” Your attention was suddenly pulled from their conversation.

“You good? You’re overflowing your cup.” You had poured too much drink, so liquid was running all over the floor.

“Shoot, I think she heard us!” you faintly heard behind you as the employees moved away.

“Oh, yeah. I’m so sorry,” you responded to your assistant who had found you. He handed you a few napkins to clean your hands and dropped a few more to mop the floor with his shoe.

“You didn’t need to help, and thank you,” you said as you cleaned up, too, feeling bad.

“All good! Merry Christmas, by the way. How’s your evening going so far?”

“Good, thank you,” you responded, half-truthful. You needed to find somewhere to process what you had just heard. Even if they were only rumors…they bothered you.

“I saw you got me a gift in the lobby,” you added, recalling earlier. “I was surprised! You haven’t done that before, so I found it so sweet.”

“Oh yeah!” he replied, and you didn’t miss the pink that tinted his cheeks. “Who knows…I may have had a change of heart this year.”

You chuckled innocently. “Well, whatever the reason, thank you! I’m excited to see what you got.”

“Of course. I do hope you like it! Also, your dress. It looks good on you.” His voice sped up at his last comment.

“Oh, uh, thanks-”

That was really awkward. You gave him mercy, though…you hadn’t even told him you were in a relationship. So, you tried to say to him that it was your boyfriend, Dazai, who had the dress made for you, but you were cut off.

Dazai had finally entered the room, but he was accompanied by that noblewoman everyone was speaking about.

Wow, she was gorgeous. Her hair was in a perfect blowout, and she wore an emerald green dress that fit her like a glove.

And with each step Dazai and this new woman took into the hall to be regarded by everyone, your heart sank a bit more into your stomach.

What??

“You don’t look so well. Are you okay?” Your assistant paid no mind to the mafia boss’ new commotion. He was wholly concerned for you.

“Yeah. This drink tastes weird, but I can’t put my finger on what.” Yet, you took another sip. What was going on? You had never doubted Dazai’s love or loyalty toward you. Had you been so blind by your own to miss this?

Dazai didn’t even bother trying to search for you. And the way the lady’s arm touchingly clung around his infuriated you.

“He was seeing some foreign princess all along?”

“The boss always has to cause a scene with something new.”

“They’re kind of hot together, though.”

Now you really wanted to puke. You stared until the noblewoman’s eyes finally caught yours and dwelt on your figure briefly before turning toward Dazai and asking him something.

Dazai’s lips read, “Okay!” before a guard approached you.

“The boss is summoning all the executives to him,” he whispered in your ear, and you nodded, strolling over to him.

Fuck. You wanted to cry. Your heart was beating out of your chest.

You felt a bit better when the other executives—Kouyou and Chuuya showed up before you.

“Miss, these are the Port Mafia’s three executives.” He introduced you individually, not meeting your eye when he went to you.

You wanted to leave. There was no point in being here anymore. What you thought would be a cheery Christmas Eve turned out to be the worst night ever. It couldn’t have gotten any worse…

“And this is the Lady of Pazenia,” Dazai said, introducing the woman. “Our most important foreign guest tonight.”

“So, uh? I’m kinda confused,” Chuuya commented. “Mackerel boss, ya dating her or something?” He glanced at Dazai, the girl on him, and then you.

She responded for him. “We’re getting acquainted tonight, that’s all,” she replied smugly. Dazai chuckled. “Yes…we’ve communicated online a few times, but this is the first time we’re meeting face to face.”

What the fuck.

“Oh, uh, okay.” For once, Chuuya didn’t pester, didn’t tease anymore. Because he was just as startled as you. He, too, suspected that you were dating the boss.

“I’m sorry, will you please excuse me? It was nice meeting you, m’lady; I hope you enjoy your Christmas with the boss.” You didn’t even wait for a reply. You stormed off in the direction of your assistant. You were going to ask him to drive you home, and then you’d pack your things and then stay at a friend’s house for a few days to figure out what to do next.

Everything was crashing down like an avalanche.

But before you could get to him, the bastard’s subordinate stopped you.

“Akutagawa? Hi, Merry Christmas. Sorry, I’m in a rush-”

“Merry Christmas, miss,” he responded, moving in front of you again when you tried to shift over. “Aren’t you going to rescue the boss? Has your emotion clouded your rationality so much you can’t see things clearly anymore?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

You turned back towards the scene, and yeah—what you saw was your final straw. Akutagawa misjudged. Not even a glimmer of hope remained in you.

Somehow, they had ended up at the corner of the room. And lo and behold, Dazai and the Lady of Pazenia had ended up under the mistletoe, and many of the upper ranks surrounded them. There was even a Paparazzi.

You tried to push past Akutagawa, but he stopped you.

“Watch.”

Why? Did Dazai place him there to make sure you suffered through it all? This was so cruel. Tears welled up in your eyes as the room went quiet to watch.

“Oh! Silly me…how did I manage to get here?”

“I’m not sure…” the woman replied flirtatiously. “But you can’t break a tradition, boss of the Port Mafia.”

“I guess I can’t,” Dazai replied, leaning in. “But, can we make a deal, Miss?

“You can kiss me, but tell me where the real Lady of Pazenia is. The exact coordinates where you’re keeping her hostage. If there’s anyone kept in place to secure or torture her.”

And the crowd suddenly gasped. She did, too, and a hand flew to her mouth.

“Shit!”

About ten guards ran towards her, restraining her before she could do anything. Dazai calmly backed away, continuing to explain.

“The business proposal was crafty and would’ve led to our doom quite quickly. You’re trying to overthrow your own government. So, you devised a cover-up to get the mafia to help you, with a deal to help us on our end, but just like your original goal, you want our city’s government to fall into anarchy, too.

“An underground noblewoman. You are exactly that—quite literally.” Dazai sighed. “No, I’m not in a relationship with her, I…”

Dazai finally met your eye, and his heart immediately sunk seeing you cry.

“Oh my gosh,” he whispered, and he ran towards you, tightly embracing you.

You wanted to punch him, throw him away—something, but you were surrounded by half the corporate. There was already enough scandal tonight, you didn’t need to add any more.

“Hah, it’s okay,” you responded audibly, hastily wiping tears. “You’re a great actor, Osamu, really got me believing you were cheating on me for a second.” Words spurred out of your mouth—you hoped you wouldn’t regret it later.

Dazai’s grip on you tightened to silently show you gratitude before he turned to your audience. “Now that the problem is out of the way—Merry Christmas to you all.” A waiter handed him a glass of champagne, who had also gone around with multiple others to hand out drinks to everyone.

“And a special Merry Christmas to my girlfriend, right here.” He gave you a kind smile, and you tried your best to reciprocate your own. There were “awe”’s and “that’s so cute”’s about.

Dazai held his glass up towards everyone else’s before toasting with yours.

…

You stayed away from Dazai for the next hour. He respected your space for that long—in the meantime, you acted fine. You conversed with others, you laughed. Your assistant apologized for his comment on you earlier—“I was completely oblivious to you and the boss! I’m so sorry; I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.” You laughed it off, telling him it was okay.

“Hey, bella.”

Dazai had finally found you alone. You looked at him, facing the inevitable.

“I’m getting tired. Wanna sneak away with me?”

You hesitated. “Where would we go?”

“The drinks suck here, besides that champagne. I know Chuuya was definitely not in charge of this part.”

You had to agree with that one. You couldn’t even finish the glass you overfilled earlier.

…

Bar Lupin was surprisingly empty that night. The bar was Dazai’s safe place, his getaway. You were constantly reminded of his genuine, complete trust in you whenever he took you here.

“I’m sorry,” Dazai apologized as you waited for your drinks. “What I did was brutal.”

“It really fucking hurt,” you said, finally able to release your true feelings now that nobody else was around.

“I had to keep up the act to expose her. Her vulnerability was that…she had a crush on me? So, the most rapid way to gain her trust was to make her believe she had a chance. She didn’t know I was seeing someone.”

“You take acting too seriously. You’re the Port Mafia boss, not some goddamn movie actor. You couldn’t even…make eye contact with me? Give me a reassuring look or something?”

“You’re right. That’s no excuse.” He took a breath. He had actually messed something up. He could predict and do everything else flawlessly until it came to the people he loved.

He always screwed it up.

“I set aside our relationship for a mission. I’m really sorry, love. And I understand if it takes awhile for you to think through it all. The only thing I ask is for forgiveness.”

“I dunno…it kind of seems like you enjoyed it…”

That was a lie. You were just saying things out of spite now. You had rethought the previous events after recalling what Akutagawa had harshly told you without context—rescue the boss? Yeah, Dazai clearly didn’t enjoy it. He never touched the woman back in any way, and his word choice was very cautious. Except one line.

“Us communicating online? Yeah, I knew she’d just go along with it. I had to say that so Chuuya would stop pushing and blow my cover. Besides, you literally have my email login, darling. You see everything.”

“I really hate you sometimes, Osamu, you know?” you muttered as the bartender finally handed you two your drinks. You took a thirsty sip out of yours. You couldn’t even stay mad anymore.

“Is that your way of saying you forgive me?” he chuckled, knowing the mood was lightening.

“No. You’re just too…attractive. Like, why are you so hot? All the girls want you…I was actually quite relieved when you asked me if we should make things official so everyone could finally know that we belong to each other…”

Hah, if only you knew.

“You don’t assume I think the same? You almost pissed me off by hanging around your little assistant, too, belladonna. He clearly fancies you.”

You gulped, remembering his earlier compliment. “Don’t do anything to him—he didn’t know. He does now.”

“He better,” he simply replied. “And everyone else. There’s no excuse now—you’re the Port Mafia boss’ girlfriend.”

You felt like there were butterflies in your stomach. The protectiveness was attractive. You pulled on Dazai’s tie, reeling the rest of him towards you.

“And you’re my boyfriend,” you smiled.

To everyone else, Dazai was known as evil, suicidal, murderer, demon, saint. But to you, he was simply Osamu. Your boyfriend. And perhaps that’s what he loved most of all. Across universes, you would not fail him—not even Odasaku succeeded so highly.

“Are you going to kiss me, bella?” Dazai asked, the signature smile back on his face.

“No,” you teased, pushing him back. “I’m still mad at you. Nothing went according to plan.”

“Nothing did,” the brunette replied. “But isn’t that what’s so exciting about life? Life is unexpected, yet some good things can come out of it, such as…”

He revealed a piece of mistletoe in his hand, holding it above you two.

“Even if you’re mad, you can’t break a tradition,” Dazai spoke, swinging the plant back and forth.

You sighed before you both leaned in to kiss each other. Dazai pulled you onto his lap, and you kissed him even more feverishly. Your hands ran through his hair until the bandage around his head finally came undone, unveiling the rest of his pretty face.

You focused on his dilated, honey-colored eyes. Finally, they revealed what he was feeling. Comfort in having you in his arms again. In your warmth.

Everything felt too intense after that. He had started making out with you again, his hands were wandering you curiously, the dim lighting, the jazz instrumental, how tipsy you felt from the drinks…

“Let’s just go home.”

…

You were swaddled in Dazai’s arms under the bed's covers at home. So sleepy. Dazai promised that the next day would treat the both of you better—a peaceful Christmas gift.

“Let’s stop doing such large parties,” you said, looking up at the ceiling. “It just calls for trouble, to be honest.”

“Yeah…we’ll have a small houseparty next time. Everyone else can do what they want.”

You were gently kissed on the forehead before the brunette softly whispered to you. “Merry Christmas, belladonna. I love you.”

“I love you too, Osamu.”

dazai told me he’d kiss u if u rb this. rbs are cherished; they are ur christmas gift to me! <3

tags: @kissesmellow21 @osaemu @ruanais + @lovedazai @chuuyrr @anqelically (i think u guys would like this <3)

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harmonictechnicality · 1 year

Text

Steve trims his split-ends in the bathroom one day and Eddie finds the trimmings in the garbage.

“What the hell is this?” Eddie barks the question, holding the trash can in front of Steve’s face. The crime has turned Eddie into some sort of Hair Lawyer, showcasing the evidence to the defendant.

Steve peers over top the magazine that he’s skimming through, examines the inside of the garbage can, and then returns back to reading.

“Baby, don’t do this.”

Which - wow - what a fucking outrageous response. Like who responds to their prosecutor with pet names and zero justification? Who does that?

“I didn’t do shit - you did this!” Eddie stares into the garbage can. Wiping imaginary tears from the corners of his eyes and staring longingly at the stray brown hairs. No longer attached to Steve’s gorgeous, perfect head.

“This is a travesty.”

“It’s just dead hair.”

“No, it was very much alive.” Eddie drops to his knees, pointing directly to Steve as he speaks. “You murdered it, Steve Harrington.”

“Whatever, I’ll play along.” Steve tosses his magazine to the side of the couch, rolling his eyes.

“What do you mean play al-” Eddie gets cut off by Steve’s finger over his lips.

He strokes Eddie’s cheek with the pad of his thumb, and the block of anger in Eddie’s chest goes all melty at the contact.

“How can I make this bizarro grieving process better?” Steve asks sweetly. His words are cushions to soften this devastating blow.

Like seriously, Aphrodite fucking molded Steve Harrington from god-like love and leftover cosmic dust. Why would he cut his hair knowing how ethereal he is? Okay sure, this is just Eddie’s Theory, but he’s goddamn convinced there’s pieces of Steve that are otherworldly - his infamous hair being one of them for sure.

“Eddie?”

“Sorry. Distracted.”

Distracted by his pretty boyfriend is a common occurrence in Eddie’s life now, but whatever.

"How do we fix this so I can avoid a guilty verdict by the jury of one?" Steve boops his finger onto Eddie's nose as he says 'one.' It makes Eddie all giggly, the anger is practically a puddle at this point. But if Eddie Munson is anything, it's consistent. If he starts a comedy bit, you bet your ass he's gonna fully commit.

"We're gonna bury it." Eddie acts solemn, regaining his silly little charade.

"My hair?"

"Uh huh."

"Eds..."

"It deserves a proper place of rest."

Steve exhales loudly. For a moment, he just looks over Eddie's features. Probably thinking, what the hell have I gotten myself into with this walking freakshow?

And before Eddie can allow that toxic thought to take occupancy in his mind, Steve puffs out his shiny pink lips and kisses Eddie. Nothing too rough, nothing too gentle (cause Eddie despises feathery-lipped kisses). It's the Goldilocks Effect of Kisses: just the right amount of everything. Just enough pressure, movement, tongue, all of it. Steve Harrington's lips can sweep away negative mindsets and replace them with shimmering constellations of positivity.

"Okay, baby." Steve says, eyes still closed post-kissing his boyfriend thoughtless. "I'll get the shoebox, you call the rest of the gang."

"Why?"

"Cause if we're doing this your way, we've gotta go all out."

"Which means?"

Steve pecks Eddie's cheek and gives him a quick wink:

"We're gonna have a whole damn funeral for my hair."

And that's when it hits him: the only thing Eddie is more committed to than his comedy bits, is Steve Harrington.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #Eddie is so obsessed with how pretty Steve is #and Steve just loves that Eddie is over the top with absolutely everything #Eddie convincing Steve to perform bits with him is their love language I swear

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waywardcrow · 4 months

Text

All eyes on us.

Summary: This wedding needs to happen, it's the only way you can protect the ones you love, the only problem is that you're in love with your husband-to-be and he would never love you back.

Pairing: Mob!Bucky x Stark!reader.

TW: Really not so many, talks of murder but very lightly, mentions of mysogyny, implications of mafia kind of stuff, death of parents, mention of future smut, curvy!reader, no mention of y/n and reader's nickname is Bells (context coming soon), kind of enemies to lovers but not really enemies, arranged marriage, this will be a +18 story so minors dni.

Disclaimer: English is not my first language, please tell me if I make grammar mistakes.

Part of the Yours to lose series.

Pictures from pinterest and graphic and dividers by the amazing @ firefly-graphics so all credits to the creators.

Everyone was waiting for her but she kept looking at herself in the mirror.

The wedding dress was beautiful, Pepper told her it was what Maria Stark –her mother- wore in her own wedding day and she loved it, the silk was too soft, hugging her curves with an ethereal touch and it had a subtle scent that she assumed belonged to the mother she couldn't remember.

Tony swore their mother loved her, their father too, the young bride couldn’t help but doubt it, they would not love her if they could see her now about to get married to a man who didn’t love her back, a man who humiliated her once for his pride, someone who probably only wanted what this arrangement could give him back.

How would she survive this marriage when it was impossible to leave the room and get to the Cathedral?

A knock in the door pulled her out of her mind, finding Natasha smiling at her in the reflection of the mirror.

“Are you ready, dear?” her friend knew the real answer but still gave her the chance to speak.

“I was about to go” she lied and the redhead gave her a knowing look “everyone it’s waiting, isn’t it?”

“You’re the bride, honey, they can wait” Natasha walked to her, looking like a goddess in her silver dress and put her arms around the bride’s body “you can say no, we can fight Russo’s father, hell, Billy would love having one more excuse to kill him.”

She was sure Billy would do it, not only for her but for his sister, for Madani and for himself but it wasn’t time yet, the alliances needed to be settled, Stark and Barnes had to fight alongside to kill Pierce and Carlo Russo. She made all that mess before getting her family back and nobody would take them from her, never again.

“It has to be done, Nat” she put the veil in her head and took the beautiful bouquet Becca left for her earlier “let’s go.”

Her friend must have seen something in her eyes that made her nod.

“Alright, Bells. Let’s do this” her nickname, the one Yelena gave her when they met years ago, made her smile, who could ever thought that knocking someone out with Christmas bells will change her life?

Natasha guided her trough the corridors to the waiting room where Tony was talking in a hushed tone with Pepper, her sister-in-law radiant with her baby bump, reminding her why this alliance needed to happen.

“I’d be waiting outside, dear” Nat kissed her cheek and went to take her place with the other bridesmaids.

Tony was staring at her, pale like a ghost, whispering his sister's name. It wasn’t the first time in the last months Bells was told how much alike she was with his mother, their mother but this time Tony didn’t say anything, just looked at her eyes to find determination that matched his concern.

“Everything it’s beautiful, Peps, thank you” the bride said and the ginger smiled with a hint of sadness barely visible.

“It’s the least I could do for you, topolina. You deserve beautiful things” she never had a mother, not that she could remember, but with Pepper there she could feel like she did.

Pepper gave her husband a gentle squeeze in the arm and went to join the rest of the guest.

“I have Frank ready to go, say the word and we leave” his first words almost made her chuckle, he spent the last fifteen days planning ways to get her out of this but Bells always refused, a small and stupid part of her happy because she would marry the man she loved.

“I want to do this, Tony, for all of us” that part it was true, this marriage was the only way she could protect him and Pepper and the baby, Billy and Dinah, Frank and Maria and the kids, the family she dreamed about since she was a kid and that she finally had. It also would save her from Carlo Russo’s greedy hands.

Bells knew one or two things about the mob, mostly from movies and for that she was sure the respect from his brother to her choices were more part of his good soul, she heard some stories from Maria that made her want to kill Carlo Russo even more.

True to the man she met not too long ago Tony didn’t fight her, instead he straightened his bow tie and extended an arm out for her to take it.

“Then allow me to walk you down the aisle, signorina, it will be my honour” the charm went back to his eyes and Bells could breathe, if she could count on them, she could do anything.

The music started playing when the wedding planner gave the signal and every one of her friends smiled at her or blew kisses at her before marching down the aisle. From where she was she could see Maria walk with confidence, not sparing a glance to her father who unfortunately was sited next to her brother Billy and Dinah.

Natasha was the last one, looking at her with reassurance one last time before following the others, then it was their turn.

“I love you, topolina”

“Love you too, Tony”

The crowd of guest was an unfocused picture, she only had eyes for the man waiting for her at the altar, wearing a black tux with a new haircut, his long chestnut locks were gone, sending a silly wave of sorrow through her veins.

She loved his hair, in an embarrassing impulse she remembered pulling his long hair to get him to kiss her again when-

Bells stopped herself.

It was dangerous to think about those times, they were gone the minute he saw her as one of his properties and decided to punish her for something she never did.

Bucky’s eyes never left her the whole way to him, drinking her like he was dying of thirst. Steve must have noticed too because he gave him a subtle bump to get him to blink and stop looking like he would commit sacrilege in the middle of the church.

The beautiful glass windows projected a million colors around her when Tony lifted the veil and with a barely visible hesitance put her hand in Bucky’s.

“I’m confident you will protect her with your life, Barnes” was all he said, dead serious when Bucky gave him a solemn nod and her brother kissed her forehead.

With her eyes watching her step, Bells avoided looking at him until it was impossible to keep going.

A soft smile, one she thought she lost forever, resurfaced when their eyes locked and the bride could read what he was thinking.

She was his, always was and always would be and he would never let her go.

I'd do bad things with you >>>

Hiya! I'm super happy to post this story even if I don't know what I'm doing, to be honest I'm not fluent in italian, so here's the translation of the pet names I used:

-topolina: Little mouse.

-signorina: Miss.

If I made a mistake with that, feel free to correct me and tell me what you think! What do you think it will happen?

Love, Lily.

#bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #mob!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst

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vminizzle · 1 year

Text

Hot in black

pairing : husband!jungkook x f.reader

genre : smut, fluff

warnings : shy!reader, mention of insecurities (stretch marks), dry humping, marking, lingerie kink, oral (f. receiving), fingering, orgasm denial, penetration, unprotected sex, love making, breeding kink, size kink, praising, pet names, possessiveness ( claim reader as his a lot? ), creampie, cockwarming

words count : 2.3k

A/N : hi lovely people, I hope you are doing fine. Here’s a little something I wrote recently. I wanted to try something a little bit different. Since I’m in love with hubby jk, that’s it. REMINDER : POOR ENGLISH. love y’all. - sunny

HEAVILY UNEDITED

FEEDBACKS ARE WELCOMED 🌪️

M RATED

“Jungkook, I don’t know what to say. You’re just so..”

“unpredictable?” he grinned expectantly.

"yea, that’s it." you laughed, shaking your head a little.

You turned around to face your husband, locking eyes with him.

He was so intimidating, you just couldn’t keep eye contact as you turned away to avoid his intense gaze making him smiled at your shyness.

“so?” he cleared his voice.

“do you like it?” he asked a bit hesitantly.

You bit on your bottom lip, looking back at the black lacy lingerie laying on the bed ready to adorn your body.

You looked up at him again smiling shyly.

"I do.” you nodded.

He caressed your burning cheeks bending down a little so his lips were ghosting over yours.

"go wear it for me then." he whispered before pecking your lips.

Jungkook smiled as he watched you disappear to the bedroom connected bathroom with the soft material between your hands.

Staring at yourself in the full length mirror, you wondered how Jungkook would react.

You knew he loved it when you wear black, the way it look on your skin always drive him insane.

You couldn’t help but sigh at the thought of him being horny just because of you wearing a black lingerie.

You opened the bathroom’s door slowly walking out. You were welcomed by your husband laying on the bed waiting for you.

"holy shit.” he cursed as he sat up abruptly.

"Jungkook." you whined, hiding your face behind your hands embarrassed.

“come here my love.” he said as you walked closer to him.

"You’re so-” he bit on his bottom lip, the soft flesh turning white as he stared at you.

"ethereal." he whispered eyes sparkling.

"shut up." you whined again slapping his shoulder.

He laughed before handing you a pair of black stockings.

"here, put these on for me too love.”

You sat on the edge of the bed and looked at him.

"can you?” you asked timidly.

"Of course, darling."

Jungkook got on one knee as he lifted your leg up and rest your foot on his muscular thigh.

He unrolled the thin material along your leg, until it reached the middle of your thigh.

He did the same with your left leg and kissed the inside of your thigh making you closed your eyes at the softness of his lips against your warm skin.

He caressed your thigh, goosebumps raising after the soft touches of his fingertips dancing on your skin.

"you’re so gorgeous, all pretty for me.”

The way his large hands looked on your body made you feel dizzy.

You started to feel the uncomfortable wetness pooling between your legs as wild thoughts started running through your mind.

His eyes were full of lust as he stared at you rubbing your thighs slightly together.

His gaze was so strong, you didn’t even know if you were still breathing.

“stand up for me my love.” he asked as he sat back on the edge of the bed.

You did as he said, his eyes travelling from your chest to your legs.

He took your hands in his gently, pulling you between his spread legs.

“baby, just look at you. You’re so gorgeous. I just want to mark you. All of you. Have my lips on every part of that pretty body of yours. You look like a goddess.” he whispered breathlessly.

"my goddess.” he pulled you closer.

“mine. only mine.” he kissed your tummy, resting his cheek on the soft skin.

“now.” he patted his thighs gesturing you to sit on his lap.

You put your hands on his broad shoulders as he held you delicately.

"I feel so lucky to have such a wonderful and gorgeous wife.” he caressed your sides.

“Just imagine how sexy you would look when you’ll be full of my babies in your tummy. fuck." he groaned blood rushing down to his cock at the thought of you pregnant.

"Why are you so shy my love?” he asked softly.

“I’m not shy koo!”

“Are you uncomfortable? I don’t-”

“no no no! don’t worry I’m not.” you smiled at him reassuringly.

“you’re so precious… I just want to make love to you.” he whispered looking straight into your eyes.

“I want to love you, to love every single part of you.” he kissed you cheek lovingly.

“Jungkook.” you moaned softly, his hands resting on your hips.

“Can we?” he asked.

“I’m all yours babe.” he groaned at your words.

“I love you.” he captured your lips into a soft and passionate kiss.

Jungkook sucked on your bottom lip, pulling the soft flesh between his teeth.

You started grinding on his bulge slowly, feeling how hard he was already.

You moaned when he thrusted his hips up to meet yours, his hands pressing you harder on his boner.

“I can’t wait to be inside of you, make you feel good sweetheart.” he groaned.

His hands roamed all over your body making goosebumps raised after his touches.

You looked into each other’s eyes for awhile little smiles adorning your lips.

"I love you so much y/n.”

“I love you so much Jungkook.”

Taking your time, you unbuttoned his black shirt, revealing his well-built body.

He helped you take his shirt off, throwing it somewhere on the carpeted floor.

Bending down to kiss his neck, you sucked little marks there and then, leaving little souvenirs for tomorrow morning.

"you’re so handsome.” you murmured softly.

Jungkook’s ears turned red at the compliment.

"You’re so cute when you’re shy.” you caressed his cheek.

“hey! stop, I’m not shy!”

“Well, now.” he suddenly laid you down gently on the bed.

“It’s my turn to worship this beautiful body of yours.” he hovered over you and started kissing your jaw, his lips travelling down to your neck.

He took his sweet time on decorating the skin with purplish and dark flowers.

Leaving some pretty marks from your collarbones, chest and down to your stomach, Jungkook looked down at you as he sat on his knees.

“look at you, covered with all of these.” his fingertips grazing over the sensitive marked skin.

“you look like art, a masterpiece. My masterpiece. Mine.”

“Jungkook.” you groaned.

“you’re praising too much.”

“I’m not. I just want to tell you how beautiful you are.” he smiled as you caressed his cheek lovingly.

He bent down again, continuing his path down until he reached your panties.

He spread your legs making room for him to lay between them.

Jungkook stopped for a while to admire your stretch marks on the inside of your thighs.

“Koo?” you said confused as he caressed the skin delicately, tracing each little lines, each little marks.

“W-what are you doing?” you tried to back up a little to close your legs, but your husband held your waist firmly to keep you still.

“don’t look at them please.” you said quietly.

“I don’t like them .. I find them ugl-”

“stop.” he interrupted you sternly.

He sat on his knees again staring down at you.

“don’t say that. I find them beautiful.”

“how can you say that?”

"y/n, I find them kind of special y'know. They are like little drawings. They’re decorating your body. They look so good on you. So please, don’t ever say that again, don’t be so insecure. You’re beautiful.“ he said bending down to place a soft kiss on them.

“they look like lightnings. I had to get myself tattooed one and you have them for free?"

“i’m jealous! gimme some.” he pouted playfully.

Being insecure with Jungkook was impossible. He’s always cheering and hyping you up.

He was sincere and serious when he talked like that. He always reminded you that he loves you the way you are. (so cuties, love yourselves.)

He smiled lovingly against your skin. His kisses were so warm, you couldn’t get enough of them.

His lips were getting higher until they got on the hem of your panties.

He gave you one last look, before kissing your light covered clit making you moan.

He placed his hands on your hips, looking up at you for permission before sliding your panties off your legs slowly.

He put one of your leg over his shoulder, connecting his lips with your glistening ones.

He started eating you out, his tongue pushing inside your entrance painfully slow.

"go faster please." you gripped on his black locks as he inserted two fingers at once.

You threw your head back in the pillows, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the feeling of his long digits going in and out of you.

He sucked on your clit to add stimulation, enough to make you weak.

Jungkook knew you were about to come s as your walls started clenching around his fingers.

Before you could cum, he pulled away with a little smirk plastered on his lips as he placed your leg down.

“Why?” you groaned loudly.

“Even if I want to eat you out all night, I want you to come around me first”.

You took a pillow to cover your embarrassed face making him laugh before getting out of the bed.

Jungkook pulled you by your ankles to the edge of the bed, taking your hands placing them on his belt.

Getting the hint, you unbuckled his belt eagerly.

“That’s my good girl.” he whispered lowly as he watched your fingers played with the zipper of his pants.

He got rid of his pants before you placed your hands on the waistband of his boxer timidly.

Jungkook pushed your hands away gently shaking his head slowly.

“huh huh, not tonight darling.”

He sat beside you, placing his hand over your bra strap.

“Can I?” you nodded as he unhooked the soft material covering your breasts, now discarded somewhere.

Jungkook let a breathy moan pass by his lips at the sight of your bare body displayed for him, only for him.

“So pretty.” he said, barely audible.

You couldn’t help but felt extremely shy. Seeing how you tried to close your legs, your hands covering your chest, he could only crave you more.

He got rid of his boxer before hovering over your bare body.

“if only you could see yourself the way I see you.” he took your hands gently in his, putting them on each sides of your head.

“tell me if you want me to stop at any moment, hm?”

You nodded earning a soft peck on your cheek.

He positioned himself at your entrance, rubbing the head of his cock teasingly between your folds making you whimper at the contact.

He pushed in carefully making sure not to hurt you as he peppered soft kisses on your neck, to distract you from the pain.

“You’re fine?” you nodded reassuring him.

“are you?“ you asked softly.

Jungkook chuckled before nodding.

“I’m gonna move, don’t forget, let me know if it hur-“

“don’t worry Koo.“ you cut him off, a smile adorning your lips.

You kissed his lips, sucking on his bottom lip as he moaned into the kiss feeling your tongue stroking the plump flesh.

You moaned at the sight of the bulge in your lower stomach as you looked down.

Jungkook took your hand and laid it over the little bump pressing on it slightly making the both of you moan loudly.

“fuck.. baby you’re so.. look we can see my cock inside you.” he groaned between breath.

You whimpered as he bit on your shoulder blade, the little pression on the bulge making him feel lightheaded.

You threw your head back, trying to catch your breath as your husband picked up the pace, his cock hitting on your g-spot making your walls convulsed around him.

He moaned lowly at the warm sensation of you tightening around him.

“fuck baby, I can’t-” he breathed out.

“Jungkook, please harder please-“ he didn’t let you finish your sentence as he went faster, hips slamming into yours at each thrusts, making the headboard hit the wall again and again.

“fuck! yes!”

He put one of your stocking-covered leg over his shoulder, getting more access to hit deeper.

He kept on hitting that spot that could make you see stars repeatedly as you pulled on his black locks.

“shit you feel so good!” you cried out, holding on his shoulder.

“are you gonna cum baby?“ he asked breathless.

”yes! yes!“

Jungkook bent down, kissing your breasts, his lips cascading down slowly, sucking softly on your erected nipple, tongue rubbing on the hard bud.

Your nails were buried deep into the flesh of his back, scratching the soft skin as your legs started trembling.

He put your leg back down as he felt his own orgasm coming.

He held your hands at each sides of your head as he intertwined your fingers.

“fuck! you want to have my babies in your little tummy huh my love?” he moaned loudly.

“yes Jungkook yes i want-.”

“you want them so bad huh.. then take them all. Can’t wait for you to walk around carrying my children, can’t wait to see your big bump. I’m so fucking close.”

“me too!“

“i love you y/n.” he said out of breath.

“I love you Koo.“ you moaned softly, squeezing your eyes shut as you let your orgasm washed over you.

Jungkook coming inside after a few strong thrusts.

His body collapsed on top of yours as he stayed inside you, leaving lazy wet kisses on your neck.

“that was-”

"wow." you laughed.

“did I go too hard?”

“no! you were perfect babe. I mean you didn’t go too hard.” you said shyly.

“how can you still be shy? you so cute.” he pinched your cheek.

“shut up.” you hit the back of his head playfully making him laughed before cuddling you, his face resting on your chest as you stroked the back of his neck playing with his hair until he talked again.

“you’re hot in black by the way.” he grinned.

“but you’re gonna be hotter pregnant”. he bit on your collarbone gently before pecking the spot.

—

A/N : gotta write something for my ladies not loving their stretch marks enough! 😤 sorry for being less active, I’ve been busy and I’m feeling sick these days. But I’m still alive hehe. Love y’all. Thank you for reading :)

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no-less-than-a-god · 23 days

Text

“May I ask a question?” The Lamb’s voice carries easily through the Afterlife, and if The One Who Waits hadn’t just watched them die (an attack that they were too weakened to dodge, an arrow piercing their chest), he would have startled at how it echoes around them; Aym and Baal didn’t have such foresight, and both of them jerked, ears flicking and tails fluffing up for only a moment before calming.

“I have told you, Vessel,” The One Who Waits answers, as the Lamb grows close. “You are free to ask anything of your god.”

“Who are these two?” the Lamb asks, and gestures to the disciples on either side of the god. Having been directly referenced, both of their ears prick up, and they stand as straight as they can, alert and curious.

“They’re my disciples,” The One Who Waits replies, “gifted upon me as kits.”

He does not mention his sibling’s name, or the fact he knows it was them. It hurts to think about it, even now.

“Do they have names?”

The god makes a motion with his chained wrist, and addresses his keepers. “Speak freely, and introduce yourself to the Lamb.”

“Baal.”

“Aym.”

“Are you two brothers?”

“Yes,” it was Baal who replies, his brother’s head tilting as he answers. “Twins.”

“Who’s older?”

There is a pause. Both disciples look upon each other silently, before turning back to the Lamb they towered over.

“I think,” it was Aym who speaks this time, as he points his staff towards Baal, “he’s older.”

“Huh…” the Lamb trails off then, before speaking up again. “Who’s better at fighting?”

“I am,” both of them reply simultaneously, and then shoot each other a look.

“I beat you last time we sparred,” Aym says.

“But I had beaten you thrice before that,” Baal counters.

“Twice,” Aym corrects.

“Thrice,” Baal insists.

In a sudden move, Aym pounces on his brother, staff brandished. “I’ll show you who’s a better fighter!” he yells, and the two throw themselves off to the side, bickering and fighting.

Both the Lamb and The One Who Waits watches the brothers for a few moments, before the Lamb looks up at their god.

“Apologies, I seem to have caused that,” they say.

“They fight, it happens,” the god replies. He does not stop his disciples, or reprimand them from fighting in front of his vessel. Instead, he watches with amusement.

“It’s entertaining, most of the time,” he adds. “I’ve been keeping track of who wins.”

“Who’s winning, then?”

Beneath the veil, The One Who Waits begins to smile, and he turns back to the Lamb.

“They’re tied.”

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

“May I ask what happens to the offerings I give you?”

“My disciples eat the fish.”

“You don’t?”

“I cannot.”

“Would you like me to send other things, then?”

“The fish is adequate, Vessel. You do not have to.”

“Do you know what fish they prefer, then?”

“Aym prefers swordfish; Baal prefers tuna.”

“And you?”

“...It’s been too long for me to remember the tastes, but I remember being partial to salmon the most.”

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

“Does it hurt?” they ask, sitting among the ethereal ground. The One Who Waits watches them, as they peer up at him.

They look so small.

“Does what hurt?” he asks in return, although he has a speculation.

“The shackles, the chains. Being bound.”

The One Who Waits remains silent, contemplating, before he speaks honestly. “They have pained me for so long, I take no further notice. I have been forced to grow used to the unbearable agony; it no longer affects me as greatly as it once did. Is there a reason you ask, Vessel?”

The Lamb, The One Who Waits surprisingly finds, is silent. They’ve looked away from him, and suddenly, they’re standing up.

“I’m ready to go back,” they claim, and there’s a tremble at the end of their voice.

Ignoring that they failed to answer his own question, Narinder raises his bony arm, chainlinks clinking together, as he resurrects them.

Later, watching through the crown, he sees the Lamb descend upon the stone statue of Heket with their oversized hammer, smashing it to pieces.

Even as it rebuilds itself, the hammer brings it all down in a fit of rage, until the Lamb is doubled over with fatigue, panting and sweating.

Eligos brings their demise two days later, and neither god nor vessel speak as the Lamb looks upon The One Who Waits.

Thank you, he wants to say, for your rage. For caring. You did not have to do that, but you did.

But he says nothing.

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

“Do you know how to play knucklebones?”

“I’ve watched the rat play it, many times. And I’ve watched you play it, many times more.”

“But do you know how to play?”

“I do not.”

“Can I teach you?

“With what dice, Vessel?”

“I have some in the crown. I can teach Aym and Baal too, if they want.”

“I’m sure they’ll enjoy it.”

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

“Have you always had a veil?” the Lamb asks, resting in their god’s hand. They had requested to lay down, after a painful and quite literal run-in with an explosive fiend. They sit up, a curious tilt to their head.

“I acquired one not long after my ascension to a Bishop,” The One Who Waits replies. Nearby, the sound of staff clacking together continues as the twins spar. “There were complaints of my gaze being uncomfortable. Unnerving.”

The Lamb pauses, before they softly ask, “May I see?”

“The veil?”

“Your face.”

A century ago, a request as such would have given him pause. He would have declined, and sent the Lamb away.

Instead, he slowly brings his arm up, and leans down. The Lamb ducks under the veil, and for the first time, the god and vessel make true eye contact.

Red meets white. The One Who Waits looks, unblinking, as the Lamb stares back into his eyes.

Something touches his nose, and it twitches involuntarily at the unfamiliar sensation. It takes the god a few seconds to realize it’s the Lamb’s hand.

The Lamb smiles, gently. “Your eyes. They’re a pretty red.”

The One Who Waits’ ear flicks.

“Like camellias. Or fresh blood. It’s nice.”

“Vessel,” the god whispers, because they’re so close. “I ask you to stop talking.”

The Lamb leans against The One Who Waits’ nose, and all he can smell is them. “And I ask,” they reply, their smile growing, “is that I can continue praising my god’s bea-”

“Lamb-” The One Who Waits interrupts, and it comes out soft. Something warm curls in his chest, around his unbeating heart.

“What shall become of me, if I don’t stop talking?” the Lamb asks in a whisper.

A purr threatens to rip itself from the god’s chest.

“I’ll send you back to your followers,” The One Who Waits replies.

The threat is empty, and both of them know it.

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

“Was Kallamar your elder or younger brother?”

“Elder.”

“And Heket was younger. Does that mean you were the middle sibling?”

“Yes, I was in the middle. Two came before, and two after.”

“May I ask what it was like, having siblings?”

“I assure you, Vessel, my experience with siblinghood is most definitely different from the norm.”

“I rephrase: May I ask what it was like for you, having siblings? May I know more of my god’s past?”

“Draw close, Lamb, and I shall tell you.”

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

“Shamura spoke to me.”

The One Who Waits flicks his ear, half because of hearing his sibling’s name on his lamb's tongue, half because they sound nervous.

The Lamb continues speaking. “They told me something. A name.”

The god freezes. He stills so suddenly, not even his chains clink. It's silent.

He knows what name Shamura had spoken. He wasn't watching the Lamb during their crusade, but he knows.

He remembers, faintly, his name uttered in vain, in fear and disgust. In hatred, or indifference.

“Were they telling the truth?” the Lamb asks. “Is your name Narinder?”

Reverence. How long ago did someone last say his name with such reverence?

“It is,” he replies, and he pretends his voice doesn’t tremble at the end.

“Can I call you that?”

The answer comes at once, without thought or hesitation, “Yes.”

“Much easier to say than your title,” the Lamb smiles a little, “right, Narinder?”

His own purr surprises him, and he watches as the Lamb’s smile grows into something soft, something fond.

Off to the side, Baal and Aym shoot their master a strange look.

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

“What do you plan to do, once you’re free?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’ve been trapped for almost a millennium, Narinder, surely you’ve thought of something?”

“I’ve had ideas in the past, but they’ve changed. Now, I’m unsure.”

“I can help you think of something, if you want.”

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

Narinder, The One Who Waits, has dreamed of freedom for centuries. All he’s wished for, as time passed in his eternal prison, is that he could be set free.

The Lamb’s arrival to him, covered in chains and looking ragged, had filled him with ecstatic bloodlust.

They were it, his key. With them as his final sacrifice, he’d be free.

That thought would keep him gleeful, a comfort. With their death, he’ll find his freedom.

But something changed.

Now, the thought fills him with dread.

With their death, he’ll be free.

For the first time since he was shackled, his dreams aren’t filled with revenge, with tearing himself free and escaping.

For the first time, he becomes weary of his own domain.

He doesn’t want the Lamb to die.

He doesn’t want the Lamb to die to free him.

He wants them alive. He wants them to stay, sleeping against his claw and chest, saying his name, peering under his veil.

He doesn’t want the Lamb to die.

Which is why, when they bow to him, his crown in their hands, he cannot find the words he’s dreamed of saying for centuries, the words he’s supposed to say.

It’s why, fists clenching, he says, “No.”

Good afternoon, I woke up and chose violence today! More specifically, I decided today I would write short fragments of interaction between narinder and the lamb during their vessel years

also. lore :)

anyways if anyone's curious I listened to "Home" by Pinkshift while writing this

#loredump #fickle thing #narilamb #cult of the lamb #cotl

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triple-7-heaven · 1 year

Text

ONCE AGAIN

thank you for waiting for me, readers. i do hope you enjoy it ♡ my first aespa fic, awesome! i've been going through it, thus the lack of content, but things are looking up for me. take care of yourselves, until next time :-) pairing: male reader x winter; words: 6.5k ; categories: aespa, winter, reader insert, smut, slightly storyline heavy

Back in high school, there was a girl who shone above the rest, but wasn’t necessarily popular. A girl who was a member of the math club, the photography club, and the dance team, whose evenings were filled with activities, who made many friends, but wasn’t fawned over by the student body in the way the true popular kids were.

One evening, you were at school pretty late, tutoring in the library. You were so engrossed in your work that you didn’t notice the time passing, until the janitor came in and told you he’d be needing to clean the library up, so you’d better scram. Backpack full of books, you rushed out of the library, and quickly made your way through the dark hallway. You turned the corner and nearly collided with a small girl, who grabbed onto your arm to steady herself.

“I-I’m so sorry,” you said, and the girl looked up at you. Oh, perfect… “Minjeong, shit, I’m sorry…”

“Hosang, what are you doing here so late?” Minjeong asked.

“Uh, tutoring… You know my name?” you asked incredulously. She smoothed out your sleeve, folded the collar of your shirt down, and tucked her hair behind her ear.

“You know mine, too,” she quipped and giggled before running to catch up with her dance team friends, leaving you without room to explain yourself. To explain that no, I promise it isn’t weird, everyone knows your name, Minjeong, I’m not a crazy stalker, and I’m not here to spy on you through the gym windows while you dance. But you never got to explain yourself. To be fair, you did admire her from a distance. In the halls, at lunch, you wouldn’t deny that you looked at her with heart-shaped eyes. As pretty as you thought she was, you didn’t ever talk to her, something you would eventually regret.

Minjeong dropped out, and you didn’t run into her again. After graduation, you headed off to Seoul to learn how to fly, and soon, you realized someone else had come, too. Billboards, advertisements, you name it. For a solid month, wherever you looked, you saw her.

The same Kim Minjeong who you nearly sacked in the hallway that night, who, instead of yelling or being upset, straightened your clothes and wished you a good night; who knew your name when you were nobody. She was Winter, now, styled with gorgeous long, blonde hair, imposed over ethereal backgrounds and colors. You had to give it to whatever company she was running with, they made that old crush of yours flare right back up again with the way they marketed that girl. Financially stable enough under an air charter company flying small private jets, you decided you’d buy a set of the group’s albums when they debuted. Sitting on the floor of your apartment, pulling the photocards and posters out of those albums, you felt the full force of the regret from your school days: if you’d only talked to her in high school, you could have her number in your phone right this minute… But you were resigned now to being a fan, and a strongly biased one. That’s all you could be.

Charter piloting has benefits. Loads, surely. You’re essentially a glorified taxi driver, charging rich business people and celebrities $20k for a one hour flight from Incheon to Jeju. It’s morally wrong to allow a sucker to keep his money, right? As good as the pay, benefits, and overall experience are, the clientele… Well. Nothing you hate more than a stuck-up diva, and it’s even worse when you’re trapped in a flying metal tube with them. But you make do; the idol sightings you get on the job make all the asshole corporates worth it. From old school stars your parents might know, to drama actors and actresses, to the newest generation of idols, you welcomed a ton of each aboard, more than you could ever remember if you didn’t write it down. Unforgettable guests come along now and then; a trio of Twice members one weekend, some big-name producers behind insurmountably popular groups for a surfing trip, and the casts of award-winning shows on celebratory benders. Unforgettable loses its meaning when your secretary hands you today’s clipboard.

“This is mine? Thought it was… Uh…” you trail off and your eyes widen. The secretary laughs behind the desk.

“I knew it! You’re her fan, right? You always talk about Aespa. And I know you have her photocard in your wallet,” she winks at you as your face fills with an embarrassingly deep blush.

“It’s not just that, Jihye. I knew her in high school,” you say hesitantly.

“Oh my God, it’s like a reunion!” the girl squeals. “Wait, were you cool in high school?” she laughs.

“Uh… I don’t-”

“Yup, I knew it,” she says matter-of-factly. “Let me guess, the lame, nerdy guy had a crush on the cool-chick future idol?”

“No! Well, I don’t know,” you say. Your mind is too busy racing to think properly. The young secretary giggles to herself as you walk to the hangar. Preflight routines are difficult to complete when your mind’s racing faster than a Blackbird. Would she recognize you? Should you say something? Nah… You’re kicking tires pretending to be busy and the door opens. The trail end of a conversation…

“-ng is going to be your pilot. He’s a great aviator and an even better tour guide, so I’m sure he’ll be happy to show you around the island,” Jihye says. That damn secretary.

“Hosang? I feel like I’ve known someone with- oh, hi,” Minjeong stops abruptly when Jihye walks her around the aircraft to meet you. Long, wavy, dark hair, with bangs curled and blown out to mathematical perfection. Fair, unlined skin of a small and cute face. A simple and comfortable black sweater, a modest manicure, and plain, natural eye makeup. You bow shyly and wave.

“All good to go?” Jihye asks with the most annoying smile in the world.

“Yep,” you answer. Jihye departs and you welcome Minjeong to get comfortable while you finish up. A strange look occupies those perfect features as you give her a quick safety brief, then turn to enter the cockpit. Before the door closes behind you, “if you need anything, let me know.”

Why are you cold with her? Why are you nervous? You hardly smiled at her or asked what she was traveling for… Pure white clouds roll calmly underneath you. You resolve to be nice to her, even if she doesn’t recognize you, because let’s be real, it’s not her fault for not recognizing you. She meets tons of people. You’re just some not-cool kid from high school who had a crush on the cool-chick future idol. A pilot report over the radio snaps you out of it as you enter Jeju International’s airspace. Gusting winds and vertical movement, it’ll be a bumpy ride down. You reach for the intercom.

“Hey Minjeong, forgive me if I startled you. Looking at some rough air on the way down, but we’re about 20 minutes out. I’d sit down and belt in if you aren’t already, okay? Call if there’s any issues, and think of what you’d like for dinner.” You toggle off the intercom and wonder where the hell that came from. What, Jihye said you’d be happy to show Minjeong around the island, right? So you’ll show her. Your inner autopilot (funny…) takes over and you idly nudge the yoke for your approach phases. Wheels on the ground, hangar door shut, you stand and exit the cockpit. Minjeong looks up at you sleepily, and you sit across from her on one of the bench-style seats.

“So… dinner ideas?” you ask. Minjeong stands up and points at you groggily, shuffling towards you until her finger pokes the center of your chest.

“You. You went to my school, didn’t you?” she says, tiredness dripping from her voice. You nod and meet her eyes. “How come you didn’t say anything?”

“I didn’t think you’d recognize me…” you say softly, honestly. She moves her hand to your shoulder.

“Well you’re bigger, yeah, but… I recognize you. Bigger and taller. Same face,” she says. The smile can’t be kept off your face, unfortunately, and Minjeong smiles too.

“You sound really tired. Let’s get going,” you say. After a quick post-flight and signing off with the hangar staff, you face her and say: “Gonna change really quick, then we’ll head to dinner.” You slip into the FBO restroom and drop your duffel, then slip out of your annoyingly stiff white uniform shirt. You stare at yourself in the mirror for a moment, then pull on a plain black t-shirt before swapping your slacks for black jeans. One careful ruffle of the hair later, and you’re leaving the restroom to meet Minjeong in the hallway.

“Alright, ready.” You carry Minjeong’s luggage and she trails behind you, much like a puppy, on the way to the parking lot. The modest rent car’s parked right where the staff told you, so you open the door for Minjeong and she shoots you a confused smirk. You smile back, and hop into the driver’s seat.

“So what’s the occasion? Family in Jeju?” you ask.

“Honestly, I… When I get time off, I run a secret travel blog… So I take vacations, and take pictures and stuff,” she says quietly. “I dunno, it’s kind of silly.”

“How come it’s silly? Sounds fun to me. We’ll have to go to some really cool places so you can write a good post, huh?” you reply. “Now, dinner?”

“Mm. I’m too tired to think,” she mumbles. Great, now the pressure’s on you to pick something perfect…

“How about Black Pork Street? Could make for some good photos, and it’s really as good as people say it is,” you say and put the car in gear.

“Sounds good…” she trails off. Really, really sleepy. But she makes an effort to talk to you. She makes an effort to keep the focus off of herself, and more on you; she asks you how graduation was, since she didn’t go, and you really had to reach deep into your memory for that one. She asks you about flying, about why you chose it, about your life in Seoul, and about how you never ran into each other in the city. You hold yourself back from saying ‘well no, Minjeong, we haven’t run into each other in a city of 10 million people, with about 9,999,999 of those people being more interesting than me.’ When you arrive, Minjeong is lively and excited, telling you about her camera and asking what’s next after dinner. You kick yourself when you start wishing for a specific sort of dessert. Quit being dirty-minded, idiot…

“Let’s go! I’m hungry,” Minjeong says, dragging you out of your thoughts. She looks perfect taking photos on the street, pointing her camera at the sky, at signs, storefronts, plants, street cats. The way her eyes light up when she takes a good photo, runs over to show you, insists that you take a few of her; she’s not much different than she was back then, huh? A person with a good heart. A person whose heart you’d like to learn.

“Is it our honeymoon? First date? Must be a first date, you look nervous,” the dorky waiter says, nodding to you. Minjeong laughs, and you blush; the difference between you.

“Uh… J-just high school friends,” you manage to say. Minjeong jots notes and snaps photos throughout the meal, and as you’re serving up some pork belly for her, she takes a few photos.

“C’mon, make it look nice,” she whines.

“You’re serious about this, huh?” you laugh.

“It’s… It’s my baby. My project. My travel blog is like… I dunno, it’s a way for me to be creative, but not be Winter. It’s a way to just be Minjeong,” she slowly explains. “To have a space that’s all my own. Where I can talk about stuff I like, and not worry about press, or netizens, or fans, or anti-fans.”

“I get it. A space of your own. I should call you Minjeong then, right?” you say, nodding your head a bit too fast and a bit too much. She smiles and nods. But she nods like a regular person, not like you.

Dinner passes without incident. If we can ignore the waiter thing. Do you look like a couple or something? Maybe you do compliment each other. Maybe you seem like high school sweethearts. Maybe you could be.

“Hosang?” she says as she leans forward. “You in there? Let’s go to the hotel!” You snap out of it for the second time and hop up to lead the way to the rent car. The paperwork Jihye gave you had most of the information listed for Minjeong’s trip, and the hotel she’d be staying in was, of course, the Lotte City Hotel. No less grandeur for the princess. The GPS gets you there quickly, and you pull up to the front doors, leaving the car on as you grab Minjeong’s suitcase. Just as you’re rounding the front of the car and waving goodnight, she makes a confused face.

“Wait, you’re leaving?” she whines. Minjeong the kid…

“Oh, uh, yeah. I was gonna head to the motel near the airport, that’s where my room is. Did you need something else?” you say.

God, why do I sound like a customer service bot? ‘Did you need something else?’ Seriously?

“I… I dunno, I guess I just wanted someone to hang out with,” she replies.

Oh. To hang out?

“Oh, of course, Minjeong. Let me park, I’ll meet you,” you say. And she’s waiting for you in the same spot once you return to the front door; she didn’t even go inside. Her long, dark hair’s ruffled by the wind. Cute.

NO. Not cute. Not cute or pretty or hot. She’s my client, my customer, my responsibility; not my crush, my girlfriend, or my next body. Look at the ground or something, for the love of God, Hosang.

But looking at the ground can’t keep her legs from your peripheral view. She walks through the sliding doors and you follow behind with her suitcase in your hand, and your duffel on your shoulder. Long, slender, perfect legs, and you’re looking right at them. You snap your gaze to the windows and pretend to be looking at the skyline through the windows while Minjeong checks in. After a moment, she turns to you and smiles.

“Do you have a swimsuit?” she asks. You shake your head. “There’s shops on the bottom floors, go and find one, okay? Meet me on the sixth floor. There’s a pool! The pictures are gonna be perfect!”

She shoves a room key into your hand and takes the bags from you. You’re left in the lobby, dumbfounded, wondering how you should navigate this. A bellhop whistles at you.

“First night with her? Sheesh,” the young man says. “Score!”

“Weird situation, man. Weird as hell,” you trail off as you walk away, still shaking your head, more so to yourself now. Okay, shops. Swimsuit. You begin to feel insecurity nagging at you. You’re lean, sure, but not perfect. Not as perfect as… Well, nevermind. Quickly, you make your way through the shops, and find a pair of rather plain, mid-length black trunks at a duty free shop, changing into them in the restroom and leaving your shirt on. The elevator ride lasts forever. And ever. And ever. Until the robotic voice announces,

Sixth floor.

The doors open and you walk quietly out to the open area of the pool. You see one figure in the water already. She’s facing the city, hugging the edge of the pool and gazing at the skyline. The water laps at her back, just below her shoulder blades, and the silky smooth skin of her back is laid out for you, with only thin bikini straps to cover it. Her arms and shoulders are small, toned, but soft. Fancams and jacket shoots could never do justice to the sculpted angel right in front of your face.

“How’s the temperature?” you say. She turns around. Her top is composed of white strings and back fabric; conservative, but form-fitting to her chest, that Goldilocks chest, the perfect balance of size and shape. Her collarbones are distinct, curved, beautiful. Hell, every curve you can see is perfect, from the angle of her jaw to the base of her neck to the gentle taper of her arms.

“It’s heated,” she giggles. “Come on!” Insecurity. Nagging. Loudly.

“Are you sure? I can just hang out and take pictures for you up here, it’s not-”

“Come onnn,” she pleads. You turn away from her and slowly drag your shirt off, then kick your shoes and socks off near where Minjeong left hers. The water is slightly warmer than room temperature, and a welcome change from the chilly air. You sit yourself down on a ledge in the pool, and Minjeong swims to your side, sitting right next to you. Not close enough to touch.

“See? Isn’t it nice up here?” she says.

“It is. Ever been to Jeju before?” you ask.

“Nope. I think it’s even nicer with a good tour guide.”

“Ah, come on. I’m not all that.”

“You’re…” she trails off and sighs. Her hair tickles your shoulder when she leans into you. “I wish I’d talked to you more back then.”

“Hmm? Don’t worry about it, that’s way past us,” you mumble.

“So… If I said I wanted to make up for lost time… What would you say?” she says and you feel her fingertips smoothly run over your leg under the water.

“I think I’d ask where that idea came from,” you say breathlessly. She moves her hand to your waist, arm around your front.

“I always liked you. I just didn’t think you liked me, you were always so quiet,” she says. Your hand, now, meets her waist, and your eyes meet hers.

“Is this okay? I mean… Can you do stuff like this? Now that you’re all famous and everything,” you say, struggling to form any words at all, overwhelmed by the electric sensations of skin on skin underwater. She cups your cheek with a wet hand and nods to the camera bag.

“Can I get some pictures for the blog? Before… Before I forget,” she finishes cautiously.

Before you forget, huh… Gonna make me take an impromptu bikini shoot of one of the most beautiful women ever. No big deal.

Minjeong disentangles from you; she tosses you a towel and you dry your hands, then power on the camera. Eyes fixed on the camera’s display screen, you start shooting. She moves through pose after pose, and you can feel yourself hardening. How could you not? A perfect, slim, pale Minjeong, body covered with water droplets, her skin shining in the flash of the camera.

“Would you check and see if those ones are any good?” she calls to you. You begin scrolling through the photos, and sure, they’re great. It would be hard to take a bad photo of her.

“Yeah, these are good,” you say.

“Let’s take a few more, then we can relax a bit,” she says. The camera display switches back to photo mode, and you look through; this time, your heart stops. The screen shows you that Minjeong has shed her top, and now, the camera focuses on her bare breasts, nipples erect in the cold air, water streaming down her chest. Her hourglass shape is all the more prominent now, and you wonder how it would feel to run your hands all over her wet body. You begin to lower the camera, but she shakes her head. “These are just for me. Please?”

“J-just for you?” you mumble, mostly to yourself. Her poses grow more erotic. She squeezes her breasts together with her arms, grabs them with her hands, and leans over for you to capture a shot of her from the side with her back arched. Now you’re definitely hard, no question about it, but at least now there’s no way she could be mad at you for it. It’s her fault. She moves towards you, and you set the camera on the ground next to the pool.

“How’d they turn out?” she asks. Her arms reach around the back of your neck, and yours wrap around her waist.

“You’re evil,” you say into her neck before planting a few kisses there.

“Oh, how could you say that? It seems like you had a good time,” she says. Her hips grind forward against your cock; she wants you to know that she knows how hard she’s gotten you. “You know, to be really honest, Hosang, you’re the first guy I ever thought about while touching myself.”

Really?

“Why?”

“You’re an idiot- Oh, God,” she’s interrupted by moans as you kiss further down her neck. “I just like you, okay?

“Well I just like you, too. Always did,” you say.

“I hope so. Otherwise this could be kind of awkward,” she giggles. You withdraw from her neck to place a kiss on her temple, and finally, on her lips. She tastes so sweet, lips so soft, tongue so aggressive. Her hand grabs onto your hair and she forces your head to turn so she can deepen the kiss. Minjeong seems hungry, desperate. You sit back on the ledge with your high school crush in your lap, her legs around your waist. She’s got both hands on your face, and she observes you like some sort of specimen.

“What’s, uh, what’s up?” you say, eyebrows raised.

“Your face… As different as it is, it almost looks exactly the same as the face I fell for back then. And I think I’m falling for it again,” she says. You begin to speak, but she places a finger over your lips. “I know what you’re gonna say. Just don’t think about it right now. Don’t. Think. About anything.”

Between her words, she’s taking your hands in hers, and moving them to her bare chest. You swallow. Hard. She’s right. If only for tonight, for this weekend, for a week, you have to just let it go. Her breasts are soft, and she whimpers when you squeeze them. She giggles and moans through a toothy smile when you roll her nipples between your fingers. Minjeong is clay in your hands, melting under every single touch, and it’s your job to make this trip unforgettable for her, to mold her into shapes of pleasure she’s never felt before.

“You know there’s a sauna,” she whispers through gasps.

“Good idea,” you reply. Water falls from both of your bodies when you stand up with her still wrapped around you, clinging to you like a koala bear to a tree. A quick jog from the pool to the sauna, but the wind still manages to chill you both to the bone. The sauna, though, is comfortably warm. Minjeong in your lap again, you sit on the wooden bench and she devours your neck. Her tongue and breath are hot against your skin and the steam begins to make you sweat already. She stands and takes hold of your hand, beckoning you to follow suit; you stand close to her and she looks up to meet your eyes. Small hands make their way to your waistband.

“Can I?” she asks softly. You help her slide the trunks down your legs, and your cock springs out, painfully hard, smacking your stomach. Her hand wraps around it immediately, and she moves in to kiss you again. She moves her tongue slowly against yours and her hand works your length all the while; her delicate fingers find the precum dripping from your tip and spread it generously. Delicately, she kneels; cautiously, she licks your cock from the base to the tip before latching onto the head and giving gentle suction. She looks up at you with her deep brown eyes and you place your hands on her head. You’re gentle with her. Your fingers make their way through her hair, and you keep your hips as still as you can, so as not to overwhelm her. You feel the back of her throat suddenly, and a moan escapes your mouth briefly, before you slap your hand over it. Minjeong backs off and strokes you with her hand.

“Don’t… I want to hear you,” she says. You feel your cock twitch, and you let out a sigh. A soft moan when her strokes speed up. “Good…”

“What if someone-”

“If someone hears? They’ll leave. Don’t worry,” she says. She gives you a few more seconds of suction, tongue massaging your head, then stands back up. You switch places with her, only now, she casually strips her bottoms off and sits on the wooden bench. Her toned thighs spread apart slowly while you stand back to take her all in.

After all these years, there she is; imagine telling high school Hosang what’s happening right now. Forget moaning her name while I jerk off… She’s right there.

Beads of sweat roll down your face and body. Minjeong, too; she’s covered in dewdrops of her own. Somehow you think they must look better on her than they do on you. A deep breath, and you step towards her. Her chest rises and falls rapidly under your hands when you give her pert breasts some more attention. You’re on your knees, now, watching her face contort and listening to her voice catch in her throat. If she never wore a bra again, you’d surely be happy. Kisses planted down her body, from her sternum down her stomach, halting at her hipline. You take a moment to stroke her thighs softly with your fingertips, and they shudder. More kisses for her legs, from her ankles up her calves to her inner thighs. Her sweat is salty and sweet. How will the rest of her taste? You look at her again.

"What do you like?" you ask.

"I… I don't know."

"When you touch yourself, how do you do it?"

"That's embarrassing…"

"When you're using your hands, imagining they're mine, what do you do?"

"..."

"Show me, so I can do it for you." Minjeong’s eyes are half-lidded, lust-laden. When you look down at her perfect, trimmed pussy, it’s dripping; your words got to her. She takes hold of your right wrist and places your hand on her stomach, thumb on her clit.

“Slowly,” she whispers. You oblige, and slowly make circles on her clit, spreading her wetness over the sensitive nub. Her next move brings your left hand to her mouth. She sucks on your two middle fingers, taking them deeply into her mouth. Wet enough now, she moves your hand, palm up, near her pussy, and nods. “Inside.” The walls of her pussy are so hot, so scorching hot, inch after inch engulfing your fingers. One curl of your fingers and she’s cursing, moaning, bucking her hips. Poor girl must be starving.

“Is that good for you, Minjeong?” you say. Your voice seems like it’s dropped an octave and slowed down about half a measure. It doesn’t matter; she can’t answer you, anyway. She’s busy stuttering out your name. Temptation gets the best of you and you move your thumb away. Minjeong whines, but it’s soon replaced by a near scream when your thumb is replaced by your tongue. As expected, she tastes incredible, some remnants of salt water from the pool, but overwhelmingly sweet underneath. She clenches around your fingers a bit.

“F- Oh my fucking-” Minjeong stutters. Her eyes roll back in her head. Her delicate fingers grip your hair, not so delicately. Rapid, shuddering breaths cause her toned stomach to rise and fall quickly, her arms and legs jerk, and the salty and sweet flavor floods your tongue. Unlatched from your hair, Minjeong’s hands grab your face and yank you up towards her face; as you stand, the tip of your cock grazes over her clit.

“Whoops,” she whispers. Her lips are warm and smooth when they lock onto yours. And you feel her hand creep down your abdomen. Your attempt to break the kiss is foiled with Minjeong’s arm around the back of your head, and her other hand moves up and down your shaft. She’s devious, smiling into the kiss as you fill her mouth with moans, tightly gripping your cock and twisting her hand with her up and down motions.

Kim Minjeong from high school is jerking me off. Kim Winter from Aespa is jerking me off.

It’s a mindfuck. She kneads the back of your neck and sucks on your tongue. You can’t fuck her in a public sauna… Can you?

“Minjeong…” you whisper against her cheek. She looks at you innocently. Like someone who isn’t driving you crazy.

“What?” she giggles.

“How about we go to your room? Could be bad if, you know, someone sees us,” you mumble.

“How about once here, and a few more times there?” she says with a wink. “It’s late, baby… No one will come up.”

‘Baby.’

Minjeong guides you towards her pussy with the hand that had never left your cock. Her legs rest on your shoulders, and you grip her pillowy soft thighs to brace yourself for impact, for entry. Her heat begins to swallow your length, quite easily due to how wet and aroused she is, and she makes the hottest noise she’s made the whole night. And now you’re hilted in Kim Minjeong in a hotel sauna with an unlocked door. Her nails scratch at your chest and shoulders frantically.

“God, so full…” she moans.

“You want me to fuck you now?” you put the sultry voice back on. She nods. “When you’re using your toys, imagining they’re me…”

“Please, Hosang, just fuck me,” she pleads. “However you want. However you need.” It’s all you need to hear, certainly. You pull out nearly all the way, and watch your cock disappear inside of her with a grunt. Your thumbs nearly touch as you wrap your hands around her small waist to pull her down around your shaft with every thrust. All inhibitions are gone, any restraints have been lifted; you’re slamming into her hard, and the both of you moan loudly enough for the reception desk to hear. Minjeong’s tight abs contract and relax under your hands, you look at her face to see her drooling with her eyes rolled back. Like, actually, really drooling.

“Fuck, babe… You’re really enjoying this, huh?” you say gruffly. You swipe your thumb over her chin and she leans down to suck on it instead. Lustful eyes meet your gaze and your thumb pops out of her lips.

“I’ve been waiting so long,” she says. A quick sigh to punctuate her sentence. “So many years…”

“Well-” you try to speak, but she clenches herself around you. “Fuck. I don’t think I can wait any longer than I already have-”

“Pull out baby,” she sighs. “I want to swallow you.”

Regretfully, you withdraw from Minjeong’s tight hole, but the steam keeps your cock rather warm while she kneels down. After a lick from the base to the tip, she takes you all the way into her throat. She takes your hands and places them on her head, looking up at you sinfully. With fistfuls of her dark hair, you pull back, and thrust in again. She gags and coughs, but she never gives up, and soon, you’re shooting rope after rope, nearly convulsing in pleasure. She strokes you into her open mouth, wringing every drop out of your spent cock. When she’s satisfied, she swallows and stands up to kiss your neck and chest.

“How about… How about we go to the room?” she says.

“You want me to stay with you tonight?” you ask. She laughs a bit. Her laugh is fluttering and adorable, a sharp contrast with the noises she was making moments earlier.

“Of course.”

After getting dressed and gathering Minjeong’s things, you head upstairs. In the elevator, you stand behind her; she grinds back onto your groin and brings your hands to her chest. Floors fly by and the number on the small screen goes up as you massage her chest and her delicate moans get you painfully hard once again. She rushes in front of you to the room, giving you another view of those creamy, toned legs, and you do your best to catch up. Once inside, she sits on the bed in front of you and waits. Her hands travel slowly from her hips to her knees, and even slower she parts them with her hands to reveal the glistening skin peeking out from her bikini. Her breath hitches when you step forward and gaze down at her.

“I showed you what to do last time,” Minjeong whispers. “I want to see what you’ll do on your own.”

“No pressure, right?” you joke, and she smiles. Her thighs are soft and malleable in your hands, and her neck softer under your lips. You untie the bikini top and cast it to the side, then kiss further and further down her neck. Kisses travel down her neck, over her collarbones, down to her sternum. There’s still salt from the pool on her skin, and you lick towards her nipple before giving it a bite. Minjeong jumps slightly and closes her fists in your hair. Your mouth works on one nipple and your hand kneads the other breast, perfectly sized for your hand. After switching sides once or twice, you kiss her stomach. Her hands move to your shoulders as you kneel on the floor in front of her.

Minjeong’s legs are wide open. You slide your fingers into the waistband of the swimsuit and slowly drag the bottoms down. More kisses travel from her knees across her inner thighs and up to her hip bones. She’s still dripping for you and you drag your tongue upwards over her pussy slowly to savor her. You spit on your fingers and slip them inside of her easily.

“Ohhh my God-” she whispers and bucks her hips. “Go faster…”

“Mm, so impatient, Minjeong,” you reply. Your tongue returns to her clit and makes smooth circles. She tenses around your fingers when you curl them back towards you, her moans growing louder, grip on your hair growing stronger. Taking her by surprise, you withdraw your fingers and stand up. While her hands work automatically on pulling your swim trunks down, you take a moment to just gaze at her. Her ruffled, semi-wet hair, strands sticking to her forehead and swaying wildly as she kisses up your thighs. Her flushed, glistening skin, cheeks inflating and deflating with the waves of pleasure coursing up your torso as your length disappears into her mouth again. Her pretty shoulders and arms. Her nose buried in your stomach.

Fuck.

“You’re really good at that,” you moan. With a yelp Minjeong is scooped up into your arms and tossed, more or less, onto the pristine hotel bed. She pats the bed beside her, and you get the message. You lie back and let her mount you. She guides your tip to her entrance, and once in line, she slams her hips down aggressively. You’re content to let her ride. Her body moves in mesmerizing ways as she grinds on you, seeking the best angle for your cock to rub against all the right places. Just as soon as you begin thrusting into her, your phone starts ringing.

“Dammit, sorry, Minjeong,” you curse and remove the girl from your lap. Fucking spam call? Really? With the phone silenced, you turn around to see her lying back on the pillows.

Like an animal, you crawl towards her; you feel like one at least, with the way your cock is throbbing. She pulls her legs up for you, and you guide your tip towards her dripping center. The warm feeling envelops you again and you sigh, eyes closed. Your hands find her waist and keep her torso still while you begin to drive into her. You almost can’t even hear her whines anymore, her voice punctuated by each thrust, curses and iterations of your name following every other sound.

“-nside me,” Minjeong’s voice fades in as your stupor breaks a bit. You lean forward and make a confused expression. “Cum inside me. I want to feel you fill me…”

And something about the way she says it just obliterates any second thoughts you may or may not have had. Her high, airy voice, begging for such an impure action, intensifies the warm, wet pleasure surrounding your cock. It only gets warmer and wetter as your cum dumps into Minjeong, deeper and deeper inside of her, coating your shaft, dribbling out onto the sheets. Your thrusts slow down, but your dick stays inside; you’re tired. You wrap your arms around her waist, and lie down gently on top of her with your face in her neck. She administers gentle scratches to your scalp.

“You came so much, Hosang,” she whispers. Her legs settle around your back.

“Drained all my energy,” you laugh weakly.

“You’re heavy. Can we switch?” she says. So you do; you roll onto your back. Your cock slips out in the meantime, and you both laugh about it. She fits in your arms like she was made for them.

For a long while you lie there. The cold air condition and the crisp sheets are a welcome contrast to your steaming hot skin and the panting, sweating furnace lying on top of you. Minjeong painstakingly brings her hand to your cheek and kisses the other with soft lips. A slow blink. A thought in your mind.

Is this what it feels like?

“What are you thinking about?” she asks. She knows.

“How do you feel about me?” you reply. Her expression is mixed.

“How do I feel… I feel like there’s a reason we ended up on this trip together,” she answers. Her body rises as you take a deep breath. “I mean I feel like something brought us together.”

“What do you want to do about it?” you ask.

“I want to find out why. There must be a reason this happened, you know?” she says. A small yawn. “Like… There must be something waiting at the end of a journey we can take together to find out. Or something.”

Together? A journey?

“Think it might be time for you to go to sleep,” you whisper. Her baby hairs stick to your face when you kiss her temple. The sheets are smooth and cool when you pull them up over Minjeong’s body and yours. She falls asleep quickly. You don’t. You’re thinking about IFR plans and what to say to her in the morning. Your fingers trace along the smooth skin of her hips and lower back for a while. The softness is comforting. And you fall asleep.

Is this part gonna go in the blog post?

#aespa fanfic #winter x male reader #aespa x reader #aespa x male reader #aespa smut #winter smut #girl group smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut

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sapphire-writes · 1 year

Text

The Au Pair (modern!HOTD) part 1

Part 1 ~ Part 2

pairing: Daemon x fem!Reader x Rhaenyra

summary: You take a new job nannying for a family on the Upper East Side. You find yourself intrigued by both parents.

warnings: 18+ (slight power imbalance as they're your bosses, sensual themes), language

word count: 3.1k

note: I've been in a Daemon x Rhae mood and this idea came to me and suddenly it is here, enjoy my loves!

When you looked up at the high-rise apartment building, you felt your stomach drop. You had always been that way with heights, whether looking down or looking up at something tall, the feeling of intense vertigo washing over you. You took in a deep breath to steady yourself, draining the rest of your coffee before walking in.

Throwing the cup in a nearby bin, you popped a mint into your mouth to hopefully disguise your coffee breath.

You’d nannied before but never au-paired. It seemed to be a little more intense, having you live with the family, and become a part of the family. But you had to get out of your current living situation, and the website was too tempting to pass up.

You didn’t even think you’d get a response when you sent in your resume. You recognized the family name; old money, the backbone of Wall Street. It was too good to be true when you received an email inviting you in person for an interview.

Still, the thought of caring for three boys was nearly overwhelming.

“You’ll only truly be a little help,” Rhaenyra had told you, after leading you through the foyer, giving you hot tea in a cup that felt so delicate it might break in your small hands.

Rhaenyra had ushered you to the sofa, before sitting in the one directly across. She crossed her ankles, clad in a dark maroon suit, her silver hair striking against the wine-colored fabric. She was ethereally beautiful, the kind of pretty that takes your breath away.

“Luke and Joff are the littles, they require the most attention,” Rhaenyra explained.

You take a sip of the tea, warmth flooding through you.

“How old are they?” you ask, blowing on the tea.

“Jacaerys is the oldest, he’s nine, then there’s Luke who is seven, and little Joffrey is only four,” Rhaenyra tells you.

“No girls?” you ask and she shakes her head.

“Daemon’s daughters Baela and Rhaena sometimes visit during the week, they’re nine as well. They live with their mother mostly, and often spend the weekends with us.”

“You have a full house,” you comment, smiling.

“Several,” Rhaenyra answers, mirroring your smile, “We have two apartments here, in the city, during the weekends we go to our house, outside of the city.”

“That’s wonderful, that you’re able to get away,” you tell her, “the city can be overwhelming.”

“I agree,” she says, “it’s nice to have an escape. So, tell me about yourself,” she cocks her head to the side, “what made you want this position?”

You sigh, deciding it's best to be truthful.

“Well, I’ve worked with kids before, on and off,” you begin, “some babysitting, nannying, I was a camp counselor for one summer.”

Rhaenyra nods, her violet eyes warm and inviting.

“I also, just recently lost my apartment,” you tell her, “it’s a long story, but I need to be out by the end of the month, so a job that comes with a place to live was very tempting.”

Rhaenyra smiles, and you nervously play with the rings on your fingers.

“I can be really good with the kids, I think we’ll get along great.”

Rhaenyra looks you up and down as the door opens. The most beautiful man you’ve ever seen walks in, throwing his briefcase on the counter. His silver hair falls in front of his eyes as he leans against the counter, tapping his ring-clad fingers against the black marble.

“Daemon,” she calls, not turning around, “meet our guest.”

Daemon simply glances at you, busy with something on his phone.

“He’ll warm up, don’t you worry,” Rhaenya says, standing.

“I won’t let you down if given this opportunity,” you tell her, placing your teacup down and standing to leave.

“I know you won’t,” she says, taking your arm to lead you to the door, “let me discuss with my husband, and we’ll let you know.”

“Thank you, truly,” you tell her at the door, “It was nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“Please, call me Rhaenyra,” she insists.

“Rhaenyra,” you say, and she leads you out.

Rhaenyra sighs, returning to the couch and flipping through your resume once more.

“I’m shocked you let her leave,” Daemon says, dropping a kiss on Rhaenyra’s head, and squeezing her shoulder with a ring-clad hand.

“She’ll be back,” Rhaenyra assures him, “I’m taking it slow.”

“Surprising,” Daemon says, “with her calling you ma’am so sweetly.”

Rhaenyra merely glances up at him, smiling coyly at her husband.

“I’ll give her a call this evening then,” Rhaneyra says, kissing the back of his hand, “officially offer her the job?”

“Call her now, if you like,” Daemon tells her.

“She’s probably still in the building,” Rhaenyra says with a chuckle.

“Even better,” Daemon says.

Rhaenyra hums, pulling out her phone.

“Someone’s eager,” Rhaenyra teases, earning a low growl from her husband.

After celebratory drinks with your girlfriends and packing all your shit into boxes, a car picks you up bringing you to your new home. You’re shown to your room by one of the housekeepers. It’s perfect for you, with large windows and a private bathroom. The bed feels like heaven as you lay on top of it. You can’t believe your luck.

You’re introduced to the boys when they come home from school. While Jace is apprehensive, Luke warms to you right away, insisting on showing you his collection of Lego model sets. Dragons are his favorite at the moment. You spend the afternoon with them, and the day flies by.

Only when you’re in your room later, fresh out of the shower and dressed for bed do you realize you’ve lost something rather important in the move. You silently curse, and pad down the hallway toward the home office Rhaenyra uses.

“Mrs. Targaryen?” you ask, knocking on the office door.

Rhaenyra beckons you in, smiling, removing her blue light glasses and looking away from the computer.

“I’m so sorry to bother you-”

“Nonsense, darling, what is it?” Rhaenyra says, lacing her fingers together, “and what did I say about addressing me?”

You blush, forgetting yourself. You find it easy to get flustered in Rhaenyra’s presence.

“I’m sorry, Rhaenyra,” you correct yourself.

“You don’t have to say sorry,” she tells you.

Her tone is so sweet, so kind, and loving that it almost makes you want to apologize again. You release a breathy laugh instead.

“I seem to have lost my hairbrush in the move,” you tell her, “you wouldn’t happen to have an extra one lying around?”

Rhaenyra stands, walking out from behind her desk and toward you.

“Of course, come here,” she tells you, reaching for your hand.

It's warm and soft as she interlaces her fingers with yours, pulling you out of the home office and down the hallway. You haven’t yet seen Daemon and Rhaenyra’s room, though you realize this is about to change. She opens the door and brings you into their room.

You can’t help but gawk at windows that stretch from the floor to the ceiling revealing the New York City skyline. The curtains are still open, revealing the sparkling city below. Daemon is already seated in bed on top of the covers reading, looking up as you enter with Rhaenyra.

“Already?” he asks, and Rhaenyra shushes him.

“Our friend is without a hairbrush,” she says, releasing your hand and moving to enter the master bathroom.

Daemon hums at her response, returning to his book. The bed is huge, big enough to comfortably fit the whole family if they wanted. The sheets are a deep gray, and look like they’re made of the softest silk. You almost want to reach out and touch them, feel the softness when Rhaenyra reenters the room.

“Sit,” she tells you, motioning to the bed.

“That’s okay,” you assure her, “I can-”

“It’s the least I can do,” she interrupts.

You want to argue with her. They’re letting you live in a gorgeous highrise on the Upper East Side and essentially want for nothing, and yet they’re the ones who are grateful? You suppose it just shows what good parents they are, wanting nothing but the best for the boys. It warms your heart knowing you can help support them in that way.

Rhaenyra motions to the bed once more and you sit down on the edge. You know immediately that sleeping in that bed would cure any problems you’ve ever had. It’s so soft against you and you run your hand over the sheets. Rhaenyra sits next to you, crossing her legs.

“Turn for me,” she says, and you move so your back faces her.

She takes your hair, still wet from your shower, and runs her hands through it gently. You can feel her nails against your scalp causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. She moves the hair from your neck before gently beginning to brush through your hair. It’s so relaxing your eyes flutter shut.

Daemon is watching now, closing his book and leaning his head back against the headboard. Rhaenyra meets his gaze and his eyes narrow. She flicks an eyebrow at him, continuing. Daemon sticks his tongue against his cheek before rising from the bed. You open your eyes as you feel him move, watching as you walk by you, stopping to press a kiss against Rhaenyra’s cheek.

He heads into the bathroom, not bothering to close the door as you hear the shower turn on. Rhaenyra places the brush on your lap.

“There you are,” she tells you, placing her hands on your shoulder and squeezing.

“Thank you,” you tell her earnestly.

Her kindness brings tears to your eyes and you find yourself wanting to hug her, bury your face in the crook of her neck, and have her lavish your face with kisses. The thought brings a blush to your cheeks. She’s your boss. Still, as you get up to leave and bid her goodnight, you find your gaze falling to her lips. You look away quickly.

“Thank you again, Rhaenyra,” you tell her, “For everything. I’m really grateful for this opportunity.”

Rhaenyra smiles, smoothing some hair from your face.

“We’re happy to have you,” she tells you, “Goodnight, my dear.”

“Goodnight,” you tell her, leaving the room and heading to your own.

Daemon reappears with wet hair and a towel around his waist. Droplets of water cling to his chest and shoulders. Rhaenyra smirks at him.

“Enjoy your cold shower?” she teases and he chuckles in response.

The following week is a test run, seeing how you handle the boys and their schedule. It’s easy enough-no scarily easy. The boys are a dream, so well behaved and respectful toward you, and enjoying the attention that is devoted to them while their mother and stepfather are busy working.

Your schedule is simple. Wake up, make sure the boys get their breakfast, escort them to school, and then the rest of the morning and early afternoon is yours. Rhaenyra has assured you that sometimes she shall give you some errands to run, but for the most part, you’re free to ponder around different coffee shops and bookstores and attend your university classes.

You pick up Joffrey first, as his daycare releases him in the early afternoon, and bring him on a walk. Then you wait for Jace and Luke to end their school days and escort them to their afterschool activities. You almost feel bad for Rhaenyra and Daemon, like you’re taking advantage of them somehow. It shouldn’t be this easy, right? It can’t be this perfect?

You’re still lost in your thoughts while you sit on a park bench watching Joffrey toddle about on a play structure as someone sits down beside you. You blink, pulled from your thoughts, giving her a kind smile.

“You’re the new Targaryen AP, right?” the girl asks, smiling at you.

“Yeah!” you answer, telling her your name.

“I’m Shae,” she tells you, “The Lannister’s Au Pair.”

You nod. You’ve heard that name before. Shae points at a little girl with golden curls on the swings.

“Cerelle Lannister, one of the little lions I look after,” she says chuckling.

She motions for your phone.

“Here, let me put in my number,” she tells you, and you smile while handing her your phone, “We have to stick together, you know?”

“Thanks,” you tell her, “I’d love to get coffee sometime and get some advice. This is my first time being an Au Pair.”

Shae raises an eyebrow as she adds her number.

“Good luck with the Targaryens,” she tells you chuckling, “they can’t seem to hold onto an AP for more than a month.”

Your brow furrows and you glance at the boys. You can see Jace running across the soccer field and Luke on the other side with the younger boys. Joffrey plays on the playground, staying in your line of sight. You can’t help but smile.

“I don’t see why,” you tell her, “the boys are great. Very well behaved, impressive manners. Better than me.”

Shae laughs.

“It’s Daemon and Rhaenyra I’d be wary of,” Shae tells you, voice lowering with the nature of the conversation, “the last girl they had was doing fine until suddenly she’s signing an NDA and being shipped out of New York. I never spoke to her again.”

A chill rolls through you.

Jace calls your name, running over to you.

“Did you see what I did!” he says, a huge grin on his face, Luke trailing behind him.

“You were so awesome Jacey!” you tell him, ruffling his hair.

They’ve warmed up to you immediately.

You keep thinking about what Shae said all night. When you join the kids for dinner, Rhaenyra and Daemon do not, as they ended up having to work late. When you tuck them in and return to your room you find a small box on your bed.

You open it, revealing a small necklace. Dainty, and expensive, with a small pearl hanging off the chain.

A gift.

You pick up the card that goes with it.

For all your help, xx

There’s no signature. Though you suppose it must be from Rhaenyra. You blush at the kind gesture before retiring to bed for the night, curling up in the soft sheets with a book.

The next few weeks go smoothly, and without any fusses. The boys are lovely as ever and easy to drag around to different parks, activities, and school functions. They’re starting to feel like your little brothers, like your own children even. You journey with them to the weekend house, an hour outside the city, roasting marshmallows, swimming in the gorgeous pool, and taking them to get ice cream. It’s paradise, it’s a dream.

You see Rhaenyra more than Daemon, though she was right. He does seem to be warming up to you, glancing at you more, checking in on you. Sitting with you when you’re at the counter for breakfast. Letting a hand drift across your back as he passes by.

You keep finding gifts. A silk robe, a new purse, a pair of earrings that match the necklace given to you. Fresh flowers by your bedside. It’s very sweet of them, to be so welcoming. Almost romantic.

Later one night during the week, you can’t seem to find sleep.

You make your way to the kitchen, feet padding softly down the hallway. Rhaenyra had said to help yourself to anything, what’s theirs is yours. You’d been craving something sweet since dinner. Since moving into the highrise your palate has begun to adjust to the rich, expensive foods the chef makes and has begun to spoil you. You’re starting to wonder how you’ll ever go back to living normally when this job ends. It’s not something you want to think about. You’re determined to stay as long as possible.

You open the fridge, the light bathing the floor in front of you. You look around, moving things trying to find a treat. Their fridge is crazy stocked, full of fresh fruits and vegetables, and green juices. Things that sound good any time but now. Now you need chocolate.

“Looking for something?” a deep voice calls and you jump.

“Shit, you scared me, sir,” you say, holding your hand against your chest.

Daemon moves toward you from the shadows, silk pajama pants hanging low on his hips. He’s shirtless and you make a point to look at his lavender eyes. They’re almost black in the low light, a smirk dancing on his lips.

“I was just looking for something sweet,” you tell him, biting your lip.

“Something sweet, hmm?” he echoes, reaching around you to open the freezer.

You back up, suddenly very aware of your choice of pajamas. Another gift you’d found waiting on your bed, a silky red set. The tank top hands low, the shorts hugging the curves of your ass and thighs.

“Try this,” Daemon says, holding out some gelato.

You let out a breathy sigh.

“What?” Daemon asks, tilting his head curiously.

“Everything here is so fancy,” you tell him, “even the ice cream.”

“Isn't it nice to have expensive things?” he asks, unscrewing the lid and throwing it on the black marble counter.

“I don’t know if I’ll like it,” you tell him, nose scrunching.

He chuckles, cocking an eyebrow. Daemon reaches for a drawer, pulling out a long silver spoon, perfect for ice cream. He dips it into the gelato before bringing his violet eyes to yours.

“Open your mouth,” he murmurs, holding the spoon out to your lips.

With his seductive tone, the roughness of his voice floating over you like silk caressing your skin, you instinctively part your lips, accepting the sweet treat. It’s cold and sweet as it moves across your tongue, sliding down your throat. A bit dribbles on your lips as Daemon removes the spoon from the confines of your mouth. A small remnant of the cream lingers on the spoon and Daemon places it between his lips.

Your eyes are wide, watching him suck on it, and you can feel a blush creeping up your cheeks. He removes the spoon, licking his lips. You bring your hand to your lips wiping away the trace of cream that remains.

“Do you like it?” Daemon asks, voice gruff, eyes hungry for more than gelato.

“Yes,” you breathe.

He smiles and then places the container in your hand.

“Enjoy,” he tells you, before walking out of the kitchen.

You stay still, standing dumb for several minutes after he leaves, feeling the container of gelato begin to soften the longer you hold it. Snapping out of your trance, you hurry back to your room, closing the door behind you.

note: hope you enjoyed my loves! 😘

HOTD TAGLIST GENERAL: @bluevxnuss, @thattargboy, @xlilacfrostx, @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed, @marvelescape, @geminithrone, @deltamoon666, @i-killed-ramsey, @tempt-ress, @eddiemadmunson, @zillahvathek, @hangmanscoming, @jojoesq, @f4ll-for-you, @rwdkarla, @cc13723things, @filipiniamultifandom, @watercolorskyy @alexxavicry @sachafirebringer @polireader @jamespotterismydaddy @grv7ay9In35s @sofiaadler @sophielangdonx @doublesparrows, @sophielangdonx, @alitaar, @castellomargot, @paodemorangol1l1, @nik2blog, @arkainea @eddiemadmunson, @malfoytargaryen, @eudximoniax, @targaryen-world, @ghostheartbeat @savagemickey03, @aemondsdaemons, @candypurplebutterfly, @eddiemadmunson, @xxnaly2, @ghostheartbeat, @savagemickey03, @dieg0brandos-wife, @paodemorangol1l1, @hb8301, @padfooteyes, @valeskafics @doublesparrows, @bornbetter, @beyond-the-ashes, @clairacassidy, @aslanvez, @loglady00, @gettheetoanunneryimmediatly, @minami97, @serving-targaryen-realness, @chaotic-fangirl-blog, @possiblyafangirl, @shmexie, @winter-soldier-101, @kaelatargaryen, @urmomsgirlfriend1, @floswife, @mizfortuna, @strawberryduvet, @girlwith-thepearlearring, @arryn-nyx

bold means I could not tag!

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charmercharm3r · 7 months

Text

Make Love, Not Porn

Hi, My Name Is

HHJ

Masterlist, Story Masterlist

18+ content – minors, do not interact

wc: 7.7k

Synopsis: You crave a life of normalcy, he craves you. And he'd do anything to keep you, even if you're for the world to see.

warnings: smut, explicit sexual content, subby/service top!barista hyune, softdom!reader, oral (m), piv, protected sex, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, consensual recording, lmk if I missed anything :p to be so honest i have no idea what i wrote i kinda blacked out lol so if it’s ass..look away

Past Broadcasts : Puppeteer

Live : Hi, My Name Is

Next Scheduled Broadcast : Sunday

☆ﾟ

Rule number five: know when to cut the cord.

But it was so difficult when he was literally showing up at your front door. You avoided him at all costs, acted like he didn’t exist, even found a new grocery store because it was too close to the coffee shop and you were terrified of the possibility of running into him there even if the chances were slim to none. There wasn’t even a reason for you to be scared to see him, he rejected you. He’s the one that should be embarrassed, turning down a ten out of ten.

Then again, he was a ten out of ten. A twelve out of ten, even. But why did he have to shove it in your face?

You were red in the face, light sheen of sweat all over your body when you’d heard the knock. The middle of the day and you were in the middle of a solo session, breaking in a new toy you’d gotten for the next stream. An hour had probably passed when you realized it just wasn’t working. Nothing was. The last time you’d been with Hyunjin was also the last time you’d cum, and it was frustrating the life out of you. As someone in this industry, cumming as many times as you wanted was one of the few motivators you had left. The amount of times you’d had to fake an orgasm on your streams was hurting your ego, as well as starting to get slightly suspicious to your regular viewers.

And now the sole object of your desire was behind a slab of wood that may as well have not been there at all. Your body heated up as soon as you saw him, like a warm hug. A fucking hug on the chilliest day of winter with a hot chocolate slipping down your throat. There’s also something else that would be awfully nice down you throat, and it’s behind the fucking door.

Through the peephole, you could see flowers and a coffee in his hand, biting his lip waiting for you to open. You hoped he didn’t hear you, that he’d assume you weren’t home and leave you alone for good. If you ignored him long enough, you’ll forget you’d ever even met him.

You backed away from the door when there was a second knock, hand still reached out holding the nob out of habit. The desire to open it was almost strong enough to override the nagging at the back of your head that told you “he’s just using you. He got in your pants so easily the first time, what’s to stop him from coming back for more?”

Almost.

It was a ruse, it had to be, this grand gesture. He was love bombing you. There was something he wanted. If not just sex, then fifteen minutes of fame? Using you for your platform? Still, you wanted to see the best in him, creeping up to the door again and silently looking through the peephole again. He was biting the inside of his cheek, switching the coffee between his hands when it got too cold. At some point he’d put everything into one hand so that he could run his hand through his hair– you gasped a little at how effortlessly beautiful he was, not trying knowing no one was looking and still ethereal. He mumbled something to himself, you blinked then he suddenly dipped out of the frame.

He was finally gone. Another deep breath, your head rolled to the side and your back pressed to the wall, sliding down into a crouch probably a lot more dramatic than need be. But this felt dramatic, fucking theatrical like it was some poorly written fanfiction turned into a D-list casted movie. Twiddling your thumbs as if looking at them long enough would suddenly give you the answer, the small burst of adrenaline had finally begun to wear off, and sulking back into your pitiful showroom you went.

Hyujin doesn’t know how long he’d been waiting outside your house. He’d eventually decided to make himself comfy on the floor with his back to the door. Flowers, coffee, and baked good set aside, he scrolled through his phone and kept himself busy until eventually, he’d fallen asleep. Head lolled to the side, mouth agape, and snoring in the hallway.

Then he’s suddenly falling backwards, beyond startled and looking up at… an angel?

“Definitely not an angel.”

Did I say that out loud?

“Yes.”

Dazed, confused, a little gutpunched, Hyunjin sat up with your help. Just a light hand on his back until he realized you were touching him and he jumped to his feet and scrambled to grab the bouquet. Holding it out to you with shaking hands, “a peace offering.”

You looked at the gifts, leaned against the wall, and back up to his face, “what are you doing here, Hyunjin?”

He glanced around the room to take in the sight of your home without the prospect of sex slightly clouding his mind. It was cute, everything was so you, but also somehow entirely different to what he’d imagined your apartment would look like. It wasn’t reflective of your showroom, which was all neon lights and sultry furniture to keep the mood. The rest of the house was cozy with little pieces of decoration that screamed with personality. The dimming glow of the sunset lighting the living room was the perfect accessory.

Wait, sunset?

You peaked at where he was looking, “did you fall asleep?” Hyunjin nodded.

Now you felt bad, guilty even. You shouldn’t seeing as there was little to no established relationship and you didn’t owe him anything, but you did. His cheeks were puffy, pink tinted, and he still looked a little lethargic. Cute. Very cute. How badly you wanted to nibble on his cheeks cus they looked so edible. He looked edible.

No. Stop it.

“I would offer you a snack but the last time I did that you left me high and dry.”

He didn’t know if you were being serious, turning his attention back to you with a dumbfounded expression. “Really? You didn’t feel so dry to me.” Not a single ounce of shame, but also not trying to be smug. And no filter in his brain or mouth. “You didn’t call.”

Straight to the point.

Hyunjin invited himself in and headed for the kitchen he vaguely recalls following you into for said snack. He shuffled around in search of a vase, pushing the coffee into your chest when he finally found one and bumping into you because you were trailing so close behind. The little sip you took as he filled the vase with water to display on your kitchen counter made your body temperature soothe.

“You didn’t stay,” the softness of your voice made his heart sink.

“Did you really want me to?”

How were you supposed to answer that? Say that, yes, I wanted you to stay so bad that I chose to ignore you instead of confront you because it’s easier to pretend you don’t exist than risk getting hurt again? Actually tell him that you haven’t been able to make yourself orgasm properly since the last time you were together? That he’s ruined how you view pleasure entirely? That sex and pleasure and dating and basic human relationships seems so fucking pointless if it’s not with him? To a man you’ve known for a week? No, that’s not an option. It’s batshit insane.

What’s also insane is how simple talking to him is. It’s psychotic that you feel more comfortable alone with him than you do people you’ve known for years. You’re delusional to think that this is more than physical attraction, even if it is. It’s so much more than that and every bone in you is telling you let the dainty red string pull you closer, let it guide you towards him. And god, you want to. It’s too good to be real, he’s not real. He’s a figment of your imagination that only exists in fairy tales because little red strings of fate don’t determine your life, they don’t tell you who you’ll love, it doesn't mean anything. Not a single fucking thing.

“Yes.”

Now, why the fuck would you say that?

“You should’ve told me,” Hyunjin let out a sigh of what you think was relief. His shoulders slouched forward and smiled up at the ceiling.

His nonchalant made you raise an eyebrow, “I offered! You declined!”

“Don’t yell at me. I left my phone number on your desk, you didn’t call. Drink before it gets watered down.” You frowned and took a sip. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“What are you talking about? What phone number?”

“The one on your desk? With the pretty drawing of you and the… y’know?”

“I didn’t see anything.”

“What?!” He slammed the bag with the baked item onto the counter and stormed through the apartment towards your showroom. You watched as he scoured the room, searching the bed, corners, your desk for whatever it is he was looking for.

Hyunjin had gotten on his hands and knees to look below it, finally to roll your chair back and pull the cupsleeve out from under it. The cardboard was smashed, crumpled, a little dirty. He stumbled to his feet to hold it in front of you, accompanying his raised, unamused brow.

“To be fair, I thought my chair was broken.”

“You didn’t even bother to look at why it might’ve been broken?!” You shrugged, sipping the coffee again. Hyunjin huffed and tossed the cup sleeve back onto your desk. “You’re insufferable. Where the fuck is your phone?”

“Don’t swear at me.” Pointing at the bed, Hyunjin rolled his eyes before taking it.

“Passcode?” You tell him the six digits to unlock it. “Is that your birthday?”

“...No.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll remember. I’ll even add it to your contact so that I get the notification.” After a few moments, he smiled triumphantly and tossed your phone next to the abandoned cupsleeve. “Now… Dinner?”

“That’s it?”

“What do you mean?”

“You forgive me?”

“There’s nothing to forgive?”

“I left you outside.”

“Yeah.”

“For hours.”

“Sure.”

“You fell asleep on my doorstep.”

“Where were you going, anyway? The sun was going down.”

“To get my mail.”

“What?! At night alone?! Now, that’s unforgivable.” Hyunjin took a step towards you, slim yet broad figure shielding yours from just about everything in your immediate vision. He leaned over, placing both of his hands on the sides of your head to hold you steady as he placed a simple kiss to your forehead.

The sudden affection made your brain short circuit because what the hell? How was he so okay with everything? It was almost like there was a wind up monkey toy holding cymbals inside his head that started clapping whenever his attention was taken somewhere else. But somehow, you were even more attracted to him, if that was even possible.

“Were you doing something in here? It smells like sweat.” He said and casually strolled out of your showroom.

For hours, you and Hyunjin were in your kitchen. Half of that was spent trying to figure out what the two of you could cook without burning the house down. The conversation was so entertainingly mundane that neither of you realized how much time had truly passed, sun fully set and night sky helping illuminate the dimly lit living room. He insisted on doing most of the cooking when you both agreed that boxed pasta and premade red sauce would be the safest thing.

All you had to do was sit back and ogle his back muscles as he stirred the pot, maybe hand him a napkin or spoon when asked. The white shirt he wore was as thin as they come, tank top more than visible beneath it and making your mouth water. The room had become incredibly warm as Hyunjin put the wooden spoon to the side. With his back to you, you got to watch as both his hands threaded through his hair, gathering what he could, and tying it into a messy ponytail. God, how did he do that? That thing where he just exists and it makes you swoon? He needs to stop– it’s getting ridiculous how hearts were basically replacing your pupils.

“If it tastes horrible, lie to me and act like it doesn’t.” Hyunjin placed a full plate in front of you, taking the seat across from you.

For the most part, the meal itself was silent. There just weren’t any words that you could think coherently enough to speak. Great food, made especially for you, and by the most handsome boy you’d ever seen, why would you need to say anything? Hyunjin didn’t seem to mind. All it looked like he cared about was not taking his eyes off you.

It was just the littlest bit uneasy, but nothing that put you off. His stare was just intense, part of you thought he was reading your mind. However, if he could, you probably wouldn’t have had to spend a week apart.

“I don’t understand you,” you admit as you suddenly find your plate nearing clean.

“Do you have to?” He responded, putting his fork down and sitting back while adjusting to spread his knees.

“I’d like to.”

Oh, how his heart fluttered when you said that. It felt like a step in the right direction. “That’s the first time you’ve asked me something personal that isn’t related to sex.”

You frowned along with the small guilt that lingered over your shoulder. “This is only the fourth time we’ve met.”

“Most people ask this before taking their clothes off. I think I’ve told you before, you’re not like most people.” He could see you bite the inside of your cheek, making a cute pout that he could tell was coming from a place of an unnecessary amount of self awareness. “I like it, though. Why do you think I came back?”

“I don’t know why. That’s, like, the whole point of me saying, ‘I don’t understand you.’”

Hyunjin reached over the short distance between him and you, thumb smoothing the ruffle between your brows and you instantly relaxed. As awkward as he could be, he really knew how to make you feel so at ease, second nature for him to be comfort embodied. There was no judgment on his face or in his tone that you could see. If you had asked what he was thinking about, he would have answered with how pretty your cheeks glow after a good meal.

“That day, you agreed to come with me and… participate..?” Hyunjin nodded along and listened intently, continuing to lightly push your hair from your forehead and trace the outline of your cheek. “Then we showered and snacked and then you just… you left. And didn’t so much as twitch when you looked at me after we were done.”

His jaw wanted to drop to the floor just how it did in the cartoons. That was the only reaction he could emit as it all clicked into place. Why you didn’t look for him or stop by the coffee shop, why you were reluctant to open the door and accept his gift, the slightly cold shoulder you gave him when you so clearly wanted to be nothing but a blanket of warmth. “Is that what you think?”

Hyunjin’s heart hurt a little when you didn’t answer, but he also wanted to laugh in your face at how stupid all of this was. However, he had clocked it the second you two had a real conversation, and so laughing at you was probably the last thing he should do. Instead, he trailed his touch down your jaw, gently cupping your cheek. “You’re more than all this,” hands slid quickly, gesturing down your sides and back up. “So much more.”

The tears wanted to swell in your eyes at how sincere his voice was. He could’ve been lying, for all you knew, but the small part of you that wanted to believe him was also the biggest part of you that had always wanted someone to tell you those small words. The small part of you that wanted to be wanted was also the biggest part of you that wanted him. It was all so confusing, you understood him perfectly but also not at all. Hyunjin could read you easily by now, you were like an open book to him.

“But I was naked.”

“And so fucking beautiful,” practically gritted through his teeth because just saying the words couldn’t express the painfully good clenching in his chest. Hyunjin pulled back for a second to stand up and shrink to his knees in front of you, reaching up again to take your cheeks in both of his hands. “But how could I look at just your body when there is so much up here to get to know?”

There it was again, all the right words executed perfectly in spite of how great of a wall you put between you and him. Hyunjin smoothly pressed a kiss to your forehead, for emphasis or not, it made you shut your eyes tightly and the tears silently rolled. His thumbs were swiping it away before making it over the hill of your cheekbone, and he was standing to take your empty dishes into the kitchen for cleaning.

You were absolutely stunned. Unsure of where to go, how to act, what to say, you simply watched him quickly wash the plates with an endearing smile all the way across his cheeks before he was taking your hand to lead you towards the couch. He sat you next to him, millimeters apart and reading your body language. Definitely in need of a lighter mood.

Hyunjin stuck his hand out for a handshake.

“What’re you doing?” Your voice cracked.

“Hi, my name is Hyunjin. You’re incredibly gorgeous and I’d love to take you out sometime.”

“If this is some kind of roleplay–”

“It’s not,” he took your hand from your lap to connect with his. “This is me wanting to know you, and you wanting to know me. I don’t know what you do for a living, and you don’t know what my dick looks like. Just people.”

Just people, that sounded nice.

You hesitated, then shook his hand. “Hi, I’m Y/N.”

“So Y/N, can I take you on a date? Maybe have a picnic in the park, grab some cheap painting supplies and go paint near the river, dessert at the best ice cream spot I know. We can make it a nice day.” He tucked his hand back into his lap respectfully, throwing the other over the back of the couch to get just the littlest bit close to you.

“I’d like to, but I’m lactose intolerant.”

“See, I’d say that’s a lie because of your coffee order. But since I don’t know you, I’m going to take your word for it and offer a cake place that I’ve heard great reviews about.”

“I don’t like frosting–”

“Just go on a date with me!” He raised his voice slightly with aggravation, teasing annoyance because he knew you were being difficult on purpose. You couldn’t help but giggle as he pretended to squish your cheeks when in reality, he was forcing down his cute aggression to keep from taking a loving bite out of you.

Your cheeks warmed up at his reaction, endearing and all together cute. He was a weird combination of adorable and sexy, even now with strands of his hair falling in front of his face, glasses hanging on the front of his shirt but a gold chain peeking out from behind the neckline that would look so good dangling in your face. You couldn’t help taking the glasses and opening them, slipping it onto his face. Hyunjin let you toy with his look by lightly brushing his hair away and pulling the necklace out of its hiding place. He raised his eyebrows when you were done. The skin of his neck tingled from where your fingertips had barely grazed.

“If you dress like this, I’m all yours.”

For a second, he didn’t know what to say as that was all he wanted to hear. For all of the smooth moves and suave lines, there were the split moments where he radiated nothing but dorkiness wanting to flood out.

“If you keep saying things like that, I might just kiss you.”

“What’s stopping you?”

“I– I don’t really know.” There it was, eyebrows knit together in genuine confusion.

While he sulked back into the cushion, you placed a gentle hand over his, just gauging the touch barrier. Hyunjin didn’t seem to mind, but rather he intertwined his fingers with yours as he fell deeper into thought. “I wanna go on a date with you,” the admittance had him darting you a quick, hopeful glance. “But, I don’t know how to do this.”

“That’s okay!” He was quick to perk up and make your grimace back a little at his sudden burst in energy. Hyunjin tightened his grip on your hand for reassurance. “I think our expertise just lies in different areas.”

“I’m not following.”

He jutted out his bottom lip with fake sympathy, scratching the underside of your chin. “If you didn’t notice, I’m not the most intuitive when it comes to sex.”

That was a shock. “I dunno about that,” an honest answer that made him shy away with a laugh.

“My experience is incomparable to yours, and not in a bad way! Just, maybe there were some things I was missing.”

You thought back to the moment you had with him, how unsure he seemed when you spoke about sex and masturbation, he seemed truly mind blown and eager to know more.

“And I can tell, you haven’t had the easiest times with relationships. I think we can learn from each other.”

“This feels like a weird, illegal exchange.” You frowned again. “But I kinda like it.”

His heart raced, yours was beating a million miles an hour. There was a tension in the air that could’ve gone one of two ways. The first being that you pop open a bottle of wine and put on a good movie. There’s chocolate truffles in the cupboard, you could always grab a bowl to have with the wine. Sweet compliments sweet, Hyunjin might enjoy it. Perhaps you could end the night with a kiss, maybe a cuddle if it went that far. You’d see him again, you didn’t have a doubt about it. You’ve got his number now, there’s no more excuses.

The second, was how things actually went.

You mentally thanked your friend for giving you these dim lights for the living room, they made his honey skin look so edible.

Hyunjin doesn’t know when it happened, you don’t know when it happened. Just that there were half finished glasses of wine on the coffee table, the movie long passed the rolling credits, and that you were on your knees between his legs, staring at his cock with the roundest, glitteriest eyes he’d ever seen.

Your bra strap was slipping off your shoulder along with the entire cup threatening to be overflowed by your breast, he wished it would. More than that, he wished you would stop teasing him. All you were doing was tracing the pad of your finger over his slit, collecting the leaking precum and spreading it around the tip. The warmth of your breath splayed over the skin of his pelvis made goosebumps rise across every inch of his skin, giggling as he shivered.

“How did this even– ah, ah– happen?”

Vibrations of your chuckle prolonged his shuddering, “dunno. I’m not upset about it, though. Unless… unless you are?” You backed away from his cock and expression replaced with something dead serious.

“No, no! God, please keep going.” Hyunjin reached out to thread his fingers in your hair, but a quick slap on his wrist made him retreat.

“Nuh, uh. You haven’t earned that yet.”

Hyunjin repressed a groan, “sorry, sorry.”

He felt overly exposed even if you were just as naked as he was, you actually more so than him. The blurred memory of how this even started was brought back when he glanced at your discarded shirt hanging on the armrest of the couch, your house shorts and his white tee in another pile on the ground next to you. His pants and boxers were puddled around his ankles, and that was what made his face burn. Whatever was to happen next, say you wanted him to carry you to the bedroom or pin you against the wall, he’d literally be caught with them around his ankles. It’s a problem he can’t put on to you, but it still made him flustered nonetheless.

You were a few inches from his bare southern region, now, having to sit up taller so that his leaking dick didn’t obstruct from maintaining eye contact with him. “I… really like you,” tone as small as it could go without turning into a whisper.

“I really like you, too.” As antsy and anxious as he was, Hyunjin restrained from bucking into your face.

“There’s something I wanna do, only if you wanna, too. I think you might like it? Y– you can say no! No hard feelings! I just think that I’ll be seeing you a lot a– and you already know what my job is–”

He leaned forward to tip your chin higher, “I trust you.”

Blush covered your cheeks in a millisecond and it made Hyunjin smile smugly. When you turned around to grab your phone on the coffee table and prop it up against the wine bottle, he got the idea. Before you unlocked it, you spun back to face him. “I need you to say that this is okay.” Not that you didn’t trust him, as well, but you have every reason not to. Not just morally, but this was your career on the line if something were to go haywire.

“I am okay with this. Turn on the camera.”

You nodded excitedly, “this is just for us.”

The angle at which you positioned your phone made it so that his face wasn’t showing, only the view of your body between his knees sitting prettily for him. Hyunjin could see the screen and throbbed even harder, he was torn between looking at you and looking at the hottest video you’ve ever made to date. Or, about to make– with him. Even if no one else is ever going to see this, the act of being recorded made him harder than he’s ever been.

Blipping of the recording being started, you settled comfortably again locked between his legs. Hands strolling up the insides of his naked thighs, Hyunjin’s breath grew heavier the closer in you came. He could feel your body heat again as he prayed you would hurry up. The camera couldn’t pick up the way you ogled his cock, the way you licked your lips, or the way you looked up at him through your lashes just as you stuck the tip of your tongue out to gather the bead precum and swallow. Hyunjin let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding in and the sound of his sigh made you giggle again.

“Can I?” You asked all too sweetly for what it is you wanted.

“Please.”

“So kind,” praised before he was about to be destroyed.

Absolutely obliterated, total annihilation, earth-splitting and volcanoes erupting the same way he did as soon as your mouth took in the tip of his cock. He blew on the spot, and you sucked him through his orgasm until he was dry and shriveled up with embarrassment. “Fuck– god, oh my– fuck, I‘m sorry! I’m so sorry!” He continued to twitch into your mouth as you licked up whatever remained.

It didn’t even seem to phase you, his premature finish was more than worthy of a few reprimands, possibly making him leave all together and deleting his number. Less than satisfactory. But it made you all the more excited. Where he crumbled is where you saw potential to create skyscrapers of pleasure, all intended to blow his mind.

An easy swallow of his seed down your throat, you kissed the inside of his thighs in reassurance. “‘S okay. I liked it,” honest as honest can be.

“Tell me if I should pull my pants up and leave so I can save whatever dignity I have left.”

“Dignity is overrated. Degradation is a whooole lot more fun. Plus,” showing off his whiteness on your tongue, you licked a stripe up the center of his dick and Hyunjin shuddered again, “you’re really sensitive.”

Hyunjin sat back and let it happen to him, he couldn’t find the strength to so much as tell you when he was about to cum again because it was so painfully good. It didn’t take very long or very much effort on your part, simply having to massage his balls and pinch the skin of his pelvis while your tongue worked minimal magic as you kept him sheathed in your warm, wet mouth. His nails raked across the couch cushion in a way that made you feel a little bad that he couldn’t touch you. Just a little. “Did so good for me. Think you can do one more, baby?”

He was on the verge of saying no, until you stood up. Amidst his plummeting energy and evergrowing sensitivity, Hyunjin didn’t have half the mind to remember that you were just as needy as he was. You were having so much fun playing with him that you almost forgot, as well. The face he makes when he cums is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, you were this close to rutting against his leg like a fucking dog. You’d do it, too, shamelessly. However, you figured you could save that for another day. This was about him.

You stood, ass taking up the entire view in the camera. You let him watch you strip, unclipping your bra and tossing it somewhere forgotten. Evening the score, you tugged at the hem of his tank top to discard, although you were teetering back and forth on letting him keep it on. Next off was your panties, left along on the floor before you began to climb into his lap.

Oh god, you were straddling him. Really straddling him. Wet pussy on full display, knees spread and so close to his cock that he could feel the dampness on his own skin. Or was that just cus you were sloppy earlier? He didn’t care, nor did he have to try to get hard again seeing as he never went soft.

You didn’t sit fully, hovering over him with the only skin touching being your thighs on his and your arms draped over his shoulder. Hyunjin found comfort in the heat as you wiped away the sweaty hair sticking to his forehead, leaning deeper into your touch. When you dragged your hands down his arms to guide them to hold onto your waist, he struggled not to buck his hips up into you. He thought about how you might laugh when you rewatch the footage later, but Hyunjin couldn’t bring himself to care no matter how ridiculous it looked. He knows that he was rutting into nothing but the air, but the increase in heat when he got close to your cunt was more than satisfactory if you decided it wasn’t what you wanted.

Except you were ready to go for it and was reaching for the side drawer for condoms, even if it meant overstimulating him even more. He wouldn’t protest, he wanted it just as much. “Are you okay?” You asked concerned when he tucked his face into your shoulder.

“Mhm,” he muttered against you, “want you so bad.”

You reached back and between his legs, dragging a delicate finger up from the bottom of his balls to the base of his cock. Hyunjin trembled and molded deeper into your frame. You chuckled, “I can tell, baby. But can you handle it? You’re so worked up already, I don’t wanna break you when we’re just getting started.”

“I can, I can!” He looked up at you with glistening eyes, full of tears and determination. “Please, please, please.” Hyunjin’s hips bucked up again, hitting the inside of your thigh and you pushing him back down.

“Calm, baby. We’ve got all the time in the world. Deep breaths, now.”

Hyunjin followed your lead when you inhaled through your nose and let out a deep exhale. He continued to do so even though you were pressing your lips to his forehead, even though you were trailing them across his cheeks and skipping over his lips. He puckered them, ready to be suffocated by your kisses. But when you planted just a peck on his, he audibly whimpered, to which you laughed and continued down his neck.

Oh, he was extra sensitive there. And when you sat back on his knees to tweak both his nipples? Ascendance.

Hyunjin threw his head back and moaned just as loud as he did when you put him in your mouth. “No, no, don’t wanna cum again,” he murmured, but didn’t try to resist your touch.

Still, you pulled away and placed your hands on his chest. “No? Too much?”

“Wanna make you cum first,” he suddenly grasped the undersides of your thighs and lifted the two of you off the couch. Neither of you had noticed his shins knocking the coffee table as he laid you on your back lengthwise with the couch, lifting your legs up so he could slot himself between them and over his shoulders.

It was a pleasant surprise, his display in strength and stamina, you were proud that he could keep going. The off-guard giggle you let out only spurred him to continue, cupping both your cheeks and stealing the kiss for himself. You couldn’t stop it, didn’t want to as he fit against you so perfectly. Cut through the tension like a knife did the passionate kiss prove to both of you that it was more than just physical attraction. Still, sometimes words do speak louder than actions.

You reached between your bodies to guide him towards your entrance, needing nothing but a moan against his lips to confirm to go further. The stretch was more than you anticipated, burning so euphorically good with a side of neediness for him to move faster. As if you could take all of him in one go, foolish. It’d been a long while since you’d been with someone worthy of sticking their dick in you, this was much different than a plastic toy.

Though, he was worth the wait, even if it did make you pathetically whimper into his mouth. It was just the ego boost he needed, no longer feeling ashamed of his previous poor performance. You still wanted more, you were clawing at his biceps and he was swallowing every one of your moans until his thighs met your ass cheeks.

He wanted to blow for a third time just being inside you, feeling the pulsing of your walls and slick dripping down his balls. Hyunjin used every muscle in him not to begin fucking into you like an animal, brain somehow stronger than the primal need inside him. But while he watched for any sign that you were uncomfortable, trying to be overly vigilant that he wasn’t truly paying attention to see you locking your ankles behind his neck and beginning to fuck yourself back and forth on his cock. His hands were planted near your head, realizing what it is you were doing when you bit your lip and held onto his wrists.

Hyunjin laughed into the air, the kind of laugh as though he had just won the lottery because holy fuck, he did. He watched as you bounced up and down, swiveled side to side, using him like one of your dildos suction cupped to the wall. Except he was the dildo, being used and abused until you felt satisfied.

“So tight– so hot ‘nd wet. God, you’re so cute, oh my god. Don’t ever stop fucking me, please, please. So good, too good.”

The drip of his sweat from his forehead onto yours broke your cock-induced fever, “why am I doing all the work, baby? You started this, so finish it.” You stopped dead in your tracks and slumped back into the couch.

Hyunjin was more than happy to fuck you silly, if he hadn’t already cum twice and was running on fumes. Alas, he did his best and it was perfectly enough. You had run him ragged for your first time having sex, you couldn’t blame him for being sloppy.

His best was still better than average, even if his pants were still stuck around his ankles. As he stood up straight and took the hook of your knees into his hands, Hyunjin let his head fall back to summon whatever energy he had left stored in the tank. Surprisingly, it was a lot. He was dripping in sweat, down his temples, neck, and chest and red blush had flushed his supple skin, but he was still the prettiest thing you’d ever seen.

He could say the same thing about you. Although your state was less messy than his, you still looked absolutely fucked out and desperate. Teeth sunk into your bottom lip so hard he was scared you would draw blood, pinching your nipples and occasionally reaching up to claw at his chest. You and him were both worked up and on the verge of crying like a bunch of babies overstimulated by everything around them.

Your fingers found their way to your clit once he started to move, fast and unrestrained while trying not to blow before you again. Just perfectly did he fit inside you to the point where you were really questioning how the hell you had sex with other people when he was right there all along. This was nothing like your past experiences, fuck whatever it was Hyunjin thought they were like, this was something else entirely. Like waking up on Sunday morning thinking it’s Monday and being able to blissfully fall back asleep. The day when you have no responsibilities or weight on your shoulders and all you feel is relaxed. When you have nothing to do but wake up at noon to feed yourself then crawl back to bed to loaf. A lover coming home after months apart and being able to inhale their scent like it’s the first time all over again. The first cold day of autumn and the first warm day of spring. He’s Sunday.

Hips against hips, skin slapping skin, sweat mixing and creating the particular cloud of odor where anyone who walked in would know what the two of you did. Hyunjin would stick his tongue out in concentration to make sure he was repeatedly hitting that spot that makes your eyes roll back and toes curl. He was so good at it that after a while, he didn’t need to hold you up anymore.

Eventually he let your legs rest around his waist so he could hunch over you again, kissing your lips so sweetly in stark contrast to how hard his cock was prodding into your soft spot. He wasn’t moving roughly, but rather strong strokes that made you really feel his entire length slipping in and out of your aching cunt. Slick sounds of your bodies connecting layered the already adulterous moans leaving the both of you, your neighbors will for sure have a complaint about it tomorrow.

Hyunjin fell onto his elbows, millimeters from your face as his thrusts slowed. The way he looked at you, as though he’d set his eyes on the most sought after piece of art. In a way, he was. Of all the people that have seen you completely bare and beg for your attention, all the people you’ve met, spoken to, kissed, fucked, he couldn’t bring himself to care about any of that because you were under him now.

The almost stagnant nature of his movements wasn’t frustrating or annoying. You enjoyed it, more than any kind of rough or needy sex you’ve had with past partners. He wasn’t touching you like you usually would’ve needed, but still felt the bubble in your stomach wanting to burst. If he kept looking at you like, if he kept kissing you so delicately and fucking you just like this, it will.

His palm brushed the hair from your face, keeping it on the top of your head as if to surround you in purely him.

“My sweetheart.”

Why was that what had to make the bubble pop? As soon as the words left his mouth and you saw the smitten smile on his face, your legs locked around his waist and nails raked down his back as white heat suffocated your body. You felt his face hide in your neck and latch onto the skin above your pulse, sucking a bruising mark as you came down and it was your turn to be covered in goosebumps. Hyunjin hadn’t realized he’d cum again until you were hugging him tighter to your chest, falling limp on top of you and all the adrenaline finally wearing off.

Nuzzled tight into him until both your breaths were regular and in sync, shutting your eyes while his tongue kitten licked over the sore spots he’d been teething at, neither of you wanted to leave from behind the thin veils of bliss. Though, returning to reality with him didn’t seem so bad.

“Baby, clean up time,” you cooed in his ear, to which you got no response but a soft snore. The giggle that left your lips was hushed to let him rest a little longer. But after a few minutes, the stickiness of the sweat was becoming uncomfortable, scratching his scalp a bit harder to gently wake him. Hyunjin hummed into you as he acknowledged the signal. “C’mon Hyune, shower.”

Wordlessly, he clambered off of you and let you lead him to the bathroom again, stopping in the hallways for towels together so that you wouldn’t have to leave him alone. Similar routine to last time except when it was time for you to clean, he opted to stand out of the shower stream until you were finished because he wanted to stay as close to you as possible.

And when the both of you were clean, dry, and ready for bed, Hyunjin spoke again as you walked hand in hand into your bedroom. “You called me Hyune.”

“Hm? That’s your name, isn’t it?” You smirked and pulled him deeper into the room. For a second, he took a look around and immediately felt like he’d been here before, comfortably familiar.

As you guided him towards the bed and lifted the cover for him to slide under, he suddenly woke up from your unintentional trance. “No, Hyune’s a nickname.”

“Is it okay if I call you Hyune?” A soft question as you get into bed beside him, the pair of you shamelessly naked and tangled in one another’s limbs.

“Yeah, or baby.” You nodded against the pillow, sweeping a hand through his hair again when he rolled on his side to face you.

The two of you stared at one another for what could’ve been minutes or hours, neither of you knew. But you were on the verge of falling asleep as he placed a supple kiss on your forehead. It sparked the small memory of the long forgotten phone that had recorded the entire event. It jolted him awake as well when you suddenly got up from bed to run through the apartment to retrieve it.

Hyunjin was sat up on his elbows when you returned and gratefully took in the sight of you naked once again, feeling light as a feather.

You had ended the recording and pulled up the video to realize it was four hours long. Hyunjin gawked and laughed when he saw the time stamp. He rolled onto his back and opened his arms for you to lay in as you watched the video together.

Everything was just as he’d seen it happening from the beginning until you took off your undergarments. If the both of you weren’t deadbeat tired, it probably would’ve turned you on and sparked a second round. Instead you both could watch it with admiration and fondness.

“Oh, that was so sexy when you did that,” he said in reference to you running a finger across his balls as you straddled him.

“I like when you hold me like this,” you commented about how far and tightly his arms wrapped around your torso.

You both criticized and critiqued the video, only able to find positives to praise one another about until it was time for him to flip the positions. The clip showed Hyunjin lifting you up then standing, and suddenly the table shook and the camera tipped over. The frame showed the opposite end of the couch that you were on, the only thing on screen being the tail end of your lower halves, mostly his ass in the air and your feet dangling in the air. You both burst into a deep gutted laugh and were unable to catch your breaths at how funny the scene looked from that angle.

“Everything was so good!” You joked, pausing the video and zooming in to see his butt in the air.

“I don’t even remember hitting the table,” he admitted while taking the phone and looking closer. “At least my butt looks good.”

“You do have a cute butt.”

“Look at your little feet!” He zoomed into your feet just barely in the upper right corner of the frame.

“Not for free!” Snatching the phone back, you lock it and toss it onto the bedside table.

“I was literally balls deep in you and you’re worried about me seeing your feet?”

“That’s different!”

He rolled his eyes and untucked his arm from beneath your head to lay his own on your chest. “Whatever. I’m not a big foot guy anyways.”

“That thing poking my thigh says otherwise.”

“I can’t even feel my dick right now, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

☆ﾟ

tags: @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @alexis-reads-fics @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut @straykids5star @like-a-diamondinthesky

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aerahyasashi · 7 days

Text

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋

“𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀𝐌𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐀 𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅”

╰┈➤𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒: Who would've known that the man you spent a night with was the very same man that you're planning to kill? It was a cruel twist of fate, cause as you spent more time with him, you found yourself growing attached-inlove even. But, you ended up knowing the truth about suguru’s death, and the thirst for justice and redemption for Suguru consumed you. The pursuit of absolution drove you to consider any means necessary, even if it meant risking your own well-being, your sanity, your very essence. You were willing to sacrifice everything just to obtain the revenge you so desperately craved, even going as far as to ignore your feelings for Satoru. After all, it doesn't really matter, because Gojo Satoru was yours, he was yours to play with, he was yours to manipulate, and yours to kill, and he’s not complaining about it.

╰┈➤𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: explicit smut, overstimulation, drunk sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (both m and f receiving), dirty talk.

╰┈➤𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Yandere! Gojo Satoru x Fem! Op! Assassin! Suguru's adopted daughter! Reader

╰┈➤𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: This story is the revamped version of my previous fic “Devil in Disguise” it has the same plot, but this one just has a better story flow in my point of view;) also available in Wattpad and Quotev! Hearts and reblogs are greatly appreciated! I already posted this, but this time, i extended it and actually posted the full smut;33 Also, random fact; Gojo’s fingers are canonically 6 inches;)

╰┈➤𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Next chapter

YOU HAD SOUGHT REFUGE in the confines of a random club, craving the numbness that alcohol promised.

You were hoping that the pulsating music vibrating through your bones and swirling burn of alcohol would drown out the hollow emptiness you were feeling, you wanted to push all of your thoughts aside—to forget about Suguru’s death.

Just that, all you wanted was to drink and feel the buzz.

So how did you find yourself in this compromising position, your body entwined with a random man whose name you didn’t even knew?

How did you end up on his lap, on his bed, making out with him?

The kiss was feverish, your tongue sliding sensually against his, the taste of his mouth was reminiscent of the tangy sweetness of freshly ripened strawberries, yet there’s also this faint tang of alcohol, a flavor lingering from his previous indulgence, perhaps.

A needy whine escaped your lips as your hips undulated against his, seeking greater friction.

“So impatient...” He mumbled as one of his hands gripped your hip to keep you in place, while the other hiked the fabric of your dress up to your waist, exposing your bare skin to his heated touch.

“Can i?”

You whispered, your voice barely audible in the dimly lit room. His breath hitched as your fingers grazed the silk blindfold covering his eyes.

“Do as you please pretty girl. I’m all yours.”

You hooked your fingers beneath the bandages and slowly, reverently, lifted it away, revealing eyes half-lidded and swimming with lust.

Long, white lush lashes framed irises the deep, captivating blue of the ocean. Your breath caught in your throat—he looked so exquisitely, devastatingly beautiful without the concealing fabric—He was already pretty with the blindfold on, but gods was he smokin’ hot without it—You’re not sure if you’re just exaggerating things, but fuck, did he looked ethereal.

His snow-white hair tumbled down to veil his face in a curtain, softening the sharp spiky hairstyle he had when he was wearing a blindfold.

You bit your lip, watching as the rounded bump just under the skin in the front of his throat bobs ever so slightly at your intense gaze. A slight flush heats up on his skin, and you touched it, pressing the pads of your fingers on his skin.

You scarcely had a moment to bask in the sight before he took the discarded blindfold from your hand and let it fall to the floor, forgotten.

His mouth explored the sensitive column of your neck, tongue tracing lazy, meandering paths.

You arched into his touch slightly, wanting for more contact, craving the delicious friction that might ease the aching tension coiled low in your belly.

“You sure that this is what you want princess?” His silky baritone caressed your ear as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along your shoulders.

“I don’t wanna take advantage of you, not when you’re drunk.”

“Mhm.. m’ sure.”

Though the drink had clouded your mind, beneath the shallows of intoxication stirred a deeper craving—something you never felt before, you’re sure that you wanted him.

“I’m not drunk.”

His brows arched in doubt as his hand glides down your spine with practiced care, finding the clasp that holds your dress in place, the clasp yields to his deft fingers, baring your flesh to his exploring gaze.

“Your words say yea, angel, but i don’t want no dubious consent. I want full consent.”

“No, S’ not dubious, you have my full consent.” you murmur, trailing your hands along his neck, tracing the pulsing vein in it before your hands dipped down and slipped beneath the hem of his shirt. Your fingers trace slow circles over his taut abs, feeling the contours of hard muscle and flush skin.

His body was warm, and quite nice, comforting even.

He shivers at your delicate touch—which you found to be quite cute.

You found his words weird, however—It contrasts with his actions, that’s for sure.

“I want you, okay?” you breathed on his ear, eliciting a visible response upon his flesh as shivers caressed his form. He swallowed with effort, aroused yet wary, cognizant of the libations which dulled your inhibitions as his own.

Satoru was in no means a person who likes alcohol, he hates it, infact, however, he ended up drinking, just in hopes to forget about Suguru.

Very much like you so.

But he didn’t really expected that he would end up having a woman on his lap, not that he’s complaining, ofcourse. You’re quite beautiful after all.

“Hey...It’s still dubious, can be counted as non-consensual too. Cause you’re drunk. I don’t wanna take advantage of you, okay?” He said.

You fixated your gaze on him, a brief moment of silent observation passing between you. His movements, though tinged with a subtle languor, was filled with restraint, that surpassed your own faltering self-control.

“Nope.”

you insist softly.

“I’m not drunk.”

His eyes smolder as he considers your flushed cheeks and parted lips.

“Your speech is slurred.”

“Nope, S’just an effect from you,” You replied with a lopsided grin.

“You take my breath away.” You mumbled, prompting him to blink owlishly down at you.

“Random as fuck.” He chuckled.

“But, i’ll take it. Just tell me to stop and i’ll stop, yeah?”

Your heart fluttered rapidly at his words, and a faint blush crept onto your cheeks as you swallowed thickly, your throat suddenly felt too tight, too dry.

After all, You hadn’t expected such considerate behavior after everything, such genteel conduct took you aback.

“Safeword?” you asked, your voice slightly unsteady.

“hm.. Strawberry?” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

“Wait...” you say, craving the taste of his name on your tongue, “I still don’t know your name”

His brow lifts in amusement.

“Would you scream it if i were to tell you?”

You shivered as his warm breath tickled the sensitive skin of your neck His lips hovered so tantalizingly close that you could almost feel his ghostly touch against your skin, tempting you to lean into it.

“Don’t worry. I won’t leave any marks, unless you want me to..?” His voice was velvety smooth, laced with a hint of lust, causing a flutter in the pit of your stomach.

“Do you want me to?” He murmurs, slowly withdrawing his touch from your skin.

You hesitantly lift your shoulders in response, shrugging.

“Speak, angel, use your words.”

“I’m fine with anything,” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper.

A pleasant hum escaped him. “Good girl.”

You looked at him, pupils dilating slightly.

“You never answered my question though. What’s your name?” you uttered softly, your fingertips caressing the contours of his abdominal musculature in delicate strokes, tracing upwards towards his pectorals. As your hands explored the topography of his torso, drawing sensual patterns across his flesh, his breathing became heavier. He let out a hum of approval, hooking his fingers beneath the hem of his garment and lifting it swiftly over his head in one fluid motion and discarding his shirt on the ground.

You lifted your gaze to meet his, your eyes instinctively drawn to the pale line bisecting his torso. The scar was long, yet its texture intrigued you. How did he got it, you wondered. The scar was long, begining from his throat towards his lower abdomen.

It fascinated you.

You swallowed thickly.

“Can i touch it...?”

“Do whatever you want. I’m all yours.”

Your fingers drifted slowly along its length.

“Satoru,”

“My name is Satoru.” he uttered the name, and for some reasons, each syllable was laced with a familiarity that tugged at the edges of your memory, muddling your thoughts with a sense of déjà vu.

But you were too loss in the moment, not even able to think clearly, thus, you were oblivious to the fact that...

He’s the person that you’re planning to assassinate.

“That’s a pretty name,” you breathed, your pulse quickening at his caress.

“I’m pretty sure yours is pretty too.” he replied with a soft smile, his blue eyes staring intensely at yours as his thumb swept slowly along your lower lip, parting them like the velvet petals of a rose. An intoxicating shiver ran through your body at his delicate touch.

“[Name],” You mumble and he sighs.

“Sounds like a good name to groan about.”

He murmured and lifted you off him and lied you amongst the silken pillows, your [H/c] tresses fanned out, forming a vivid halo around your flushed features. His eyes lingered over your form, his tongue swiping on his lower lip to moisten them.

“Alright, Just say the safeword, and i’ll stop, yeah?” He says, earning a nod from you.

“Speak.”

“M-mnh.. yes”

“Good girl.” He praised softly.

“I’ll do all the work, yeah? Just lay down there like a good girl n’ let me please you.”

Slowly, his lips brushed the skin of your neck, eliciting a sigh from you. his fingertips traced your spine down to the clasp of your bra, and a quiet flick of experient fingers released the barrier, freeing your chest to his hungry gaze.

“Beautiful.” He complimented.

His fingertips leisurely caress delicate circles around your nipples, coaxing a delicious ache of pleasure to ignite. He lavishes attentions on one nipple, drawing it into his mouth while his nimble digits continue their expert ministrations on its twin, evoking an unabashed moan to escape your quivering lips.

He lets go off your nipples with a pop.

Starting at the base of your sternum, he planted slow, sensuous kisses, inching ever lower towards regions still untouched. When he reached your stomach, he placed a gentle kiss on your belly button.

Moving away from the bed with graceful precision, he knelt before your quivering form and slid greedy hands along your thighs, grasping your hips to pull you on the edge of the bed, so that his head was completely positioned between your legs. A wanton moan escaped you then as he lifted one leg high, draping it over his broad shoulder.

“Relax, f’me pretty girl.” He said, after noticing how tense your body is.

You watched, enamoured as he pressed a line of searing kisses along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh—he looked so pretty while doing that.

He hummed as he saw the dampness in your underwear.

“Look at you,” he chuckled breathily.

“All we did was kiss, n’ you’re already soakin’ wet.”

His lips traced delicate patterns along your thigh, each fleeting caress like liquid fire on your fevered skin.

Fuck, who would’ve known that he’ll turn you in a whining mess with just his kisses?

Humiliation blooms in your throat as you realized how pathetic you are right now, You clasped a hand over your flushed visage, heart pounding erratically against your ribs.

Satoru seemed displeased with that though.

“Hey, none of ‘that” He scolds.

“Lemme see your pretty face.”

You took a ragged breath, though anticipation swirled within you, nervousness lingered at your edges. But then, this is what you wanted isn’t it?

“I-i don’t wanna.”

He scoffs and shifted his weight, pressing you further into the pillows.

“Do it.” He says.

You shook your head and he sighs.

“If y’don’t take your hands off your face, i’ll tie you up n’ fuck you till you can’t walk.”

“ S’ that what you want angel?”

“No..” You sighed, not wanting to get tied up, you slowly curled your fingers away from your flushed face.

“You’re so shameless...” You mumble.

“Yeah, no shame at all. Why would i be shameful of myself when I have a pretty lil’ thing like you under me? All soakin’ wet n’ pretty.”

“Besides... I know you like it anyways,” He mumbled.

Satoru’s tongue, hot and wet, darted out to leave a scorching trail against the tender flesh of your inner thighs.

You sighed, eyes fluttering shut at the sensation.

“Open your eyes n’ look at me, pretty.”

“I want you to look at me while i eat you out.”

This is so embarrassing and humiliating that it hurts, your throat constricts, his words makes you embarrassed, he was just so blunt, so shameless—he was all so sweet and using romantic words when you’re just kissing.

But fuck, did satoru changed once you gave him your consent, pressin’ you on the sheets like that and saying filthy words.

You reluctantly fluttered your lashes open to meet his stare, laying yourself bare as fingertips ghosted ever higher.

“See? That’s a good girl. Now just lie there princess, let me make you feel good.”

You felt yourself swallowing thickly as he hooked nimble fingers into the lacy edge of your undergarments, sliding the delicate fabric down your legs.

It was slow, agonizingly slow, too slow for your own liking.

Your body suddenly involuntarily jolted as a wave of his scorching breath caressed the intimate flesh between your legs.

“So pretty..” His words were a low murmur, infused with a hunger that made humiliation to bubble up your chest, feeling embarrassed.

“Don’t... don’t stare,” you murmur back, feeling self conscious, flush of embarrassment tinged your cheeks, your hips shifting involuntarily beneath his intense gaze.

“Don’t stare... S’ making me embarrassed.”

With a devilish smirk dancing on his lips, he gave another teasing lick on your thighs. Satoru wouldn’t lie, he wanted to bite your thigh so bad, sink his teeth on your plush thighs, and leave a mark, but he restrained himself from doing so.

“No, m’not staring love, just... studying, don’t be embarrassed” he murmured almost innocently, his words a stark contrast to the boldness of his actions.

“Besides... You’re so beautiful in here... You just can’t just expect me to not compliment it.” He says.

You shook your head. “It’s not that... It’s just.. i.. i haven’t done this before.” You mumble.

“Haven’t done oral before?” He questioned, watching as your face burned as you shook your head.

“I’m a virgin.” You confirmed.

His sapphire eyes widened at your confession and his throat constricts, adams apple bobbing in his throat.

The revelation caught him off guard, each breath he took feeling like a fleeting gasp of surprise. He had not expected this revelation, not from you. Your actions had spoken of confidence and skill, and, damn, you sure did like a seductress.

His hand twitched, the pads of his fingers pressing on your thighs slightly.

“No wonder you’re so shy...”

He pulled back slightly, a tinge of guilt creeping into his consciousness at the notion of overwhelming you. Aware that his dirty words may be foreign to your ears, he gazes upon you with a mixture of empathy and desire.

“We can stop this if you want.” he offers, his gaze intense and probing.

“Shit no.” you murmur.

“Don’t stop. I want you.” The words escape your lips in a breathy whisper, laden with lust, restraint flickers in his eyes, as he caught his lower lip on his teeth.

“If you say so. I have a thing for popping cherries anyways,” He says with a laugh.

Your breath suddenly caught in your throat as his thumb glided teasingly over your clit.

A playful chuckle escaped his lips at your sensitivity, before he leaned in once again, his warm breath ghosting over your heated skin as he kissed your clit.

“Sensitive, are we?” he chuckles softly before dipping down to give your throbbing clit yet another teasing lick, releasing a desperate whimper from your parted lips.

His fingers gently spread apart your folds, his face inches away as his tongue teases your slit, the wet muscles licks the slick trail that has gathered on your pussy, eliciting soft whimpers from you as your body instinctively responds with a slight arching of your hips.

“aah.. hnngh, satoru” You mewled.

“You taste so good... heavenly even.”

With another tantalizing lick, he savors the exquisite taste of your arousal. His hungry mouth then latches onto your pulsating clit, sucking on it gently. Moans escaped your parted lips as you clutch onto the sheets.

He devoured you as if starved, his hunger palpable in each expert lick and fervent suck, transforming you into a feast he couldn’t devour quickly enough—Your moans were like delicious music to his ears, and fuck, did it it make him hard. He whines, grinding against the edge of the bed, seeking friction.

“I can just eat you out everyday and not get tired of it...” he moaned shamelessly, his voice slightly muffled as your hips bucked involuntarily, a whimper of pleasure escaping your lips.

“Love your taste so much.”

Satoru’s tongue moved skillfully around your clit, softly brushing against it to send shivers down your spine. With deliberate movements, he gently licked it in distinct patterns, exploring your most sensitive spots.

His fingers grip tightly onto your hip, while he eagerly indulges in pleasuring and sucking on your bundle of nerves, causing a titillating sensation that makes your inner muscles contract and a surge of euphoria creates a swirling sensation in your stomach.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, pretty girl?” satoru whispers, his words muffled by his persistent oral ministrations. As he continues to pleasure you with unwavering determination, the pleasure he evokes from within you cannot be contained, escaping your lips in the form of unrestrained moans. The pleasure becomes so overwhelming that it threatens to engulf your vision, as though a curtain of stars is poised to blind you from the outside world.

“Fuck, Satoru, i-i’m.. haaah..” You panted, thighs shaking as your insides contracts, a tingling sensation radiating on your body.

“I know. C’mon. Cum for me, angel. Lemme taste you on my tongue,”

You let out a deep moan, succumbing to the intense climax as you cum hard. Radiating satisfaction, satoru hummed contentedly while skillfully lapping up every trace of your released essence.

“You taste like heaven itself, just like i thought...” he whispered, his voice filled with longing, as he withdrew from your pussy and stood up and pressed his lips against yours. The taste of your own cum lingered on his mouth, intoxicating and arousing, causing you to moan in pleasure before surrendering to his passionate kiss.

As the two of you kissed, his touch ventured lower, his hand finding its way to your puffy clit again, rubbing it, prompting a chorus of moans from you.

Your breath hitched when you felt his middle finger probing your hole gathering your slick before slowly pushing inside.

“Breathe.” He whispers.

“Hngnh, Satoru.” You whined on his mouth as he added another, his fingers were so long and thick, filling you so deliciously. The sensation of his fingers stretching you from within was intense and slightly painful, yet somehow enjoyable in its own way.

“You’re so tight, you gotta relax n’ let me in.”

You bit his tongue, causing him to let out a low moan.

“There.. you gotta adjust.. that’s it, good girl.” He murmurs, whispering sweet nothings into you.

Satoru’s cock throbbed painfully beneath his straining trousers, yet he focused solely on pleasuring you, expertly thrusting his fingers in and out of you. When he grazed upon a certain tender zone, an eyebrow arched knowingly as your riven flesh clenched tightly around his digits as he pulled away for a bit.

“Ahn.. hnn please,” You panted.

“Oh?” He purred slyly.

“Hm? Is something wrong?” He murmured, once more curling his finger upwards and pressing that spot within your pussy, drawing forth a lustrous moan as your arched your velvet back in pleasure.

“You tightened around me, did i hit a good spot?”

“this is where you’re weak, isn’t it?” His digits thrust rhythmically into your inner sanctum, coaxing ever more ardent moans of euphoria from your lips.

“How cute.”

A molten pool of desire gathered low in your belly, waves of euphoria washing over your trembling frame.

Satoru bit his lip as his hand slid stealthily down within his own constrained trousers, swiftly freeing his engorged member to pump smoothly within his curled fingers.

His thumb smeared the precum that was leaking on the tip, using it as a lube to slowly jerk off.

“Aahh... Fuck..” he moaned gutturally, his fingers, still buried deep within your moisture-slicked cunt, he withdrew his fingers sluggishly and raised it languidly to his lips, his tongue darting out to taste your essence.

“C’mere.” he says, sitting upright and patting his lap

His voice was ragged with want as he beckoned you closer. You rose from the rumpled bedsheets and moved to him, sitting on his lap, feeling the heat of his gaze as it roamed your naked form.

“Kiss me.” He commands.

You immediately kissed him, the taste of your essence still upon his mouth, and it made butterflies fluttering in your stomach. His cock pressed against your skin as he stroked himself.

“haah... Feel that princess? ’m so hard for you”

Breaking the kiss, you gazed down at satoru, drinking in his beauty as your fingers traced the lines of his chiselled abdomen, following each dip and swell. Your mouth followed the path of your hand, pressing feathery kisses along the scar that he had, revelling in each hitch of his breath and twitch of muscle beneath your ministrations.

Your gaze then lingered on his cock, admiring its size and girth. The tip was flushed red with arousal, and it twitched at your gaze, you pushed his hand away from it.

He seemed to be surprised at that—yet didn’t make a move to stop you.

“Ah, Ah? Did i told you that you can touch me?” He teased.

You nipped on your lower lip, as you tentatively wrapped your hand around his shaft, marveling at its sheer thickness that challenged your grip.

“No... But i wanted to touch you.” You mumbled, You ache for deeper intimacy, craving the solace of flesh against flesh in your drunken haze.

“Mmnh.. maybe if you’re really that desperate... Maybe i should just give it to you, hm?”

“Tell me what you want.” he says, his fingers entwining in your hair, tugging gently to lift your gaze to his. A moan escapes you.

“You,” you manage to breathe out, the craving evident in your eyes. His eyebrow quirks.

“Be specific.” he murmurs, his tone commanding and seductive.

“I wanna please you too,” you confess, your words laced with need—all the shyness from before leaving you, only lust remains. He exhales heavily, releasing his hold on your hair.

“So eager to please aren’t you? Such a good girl.”

He hums.

“Go on. Suck me off, show me what that pretty little mouth can do.”

As you followed his command, you delicately bent down and rested your head on his cock. Extending your tongue, you dragged the flat of your tongue and traced the vein that prominently bulged on the underside of his dick.

Your tongue slowly traced a path up his shaft, moving towards the tip. With anticipation, you opened your mouth to take him in, feeling a bit of discomfort as you adjusted to his size. It took some time for your jaw to accommodate the width of his girth as his tip brushed against the back of your throat.

You looked only to see that he was only half way in, and shit, you just realized how much he’s gonna hurt your throat.

“Ngh.. you gotta relax your throat if you want to take me in your mouth.” he moans, sensing your discomfort as you struggle not to gag. Following his instruction, you comply, feeling Satoru's sharp intake of breath as he nips his lip in pleasure.

Despite the sensation being pleasing, it's clear that he craves more.

“C’mon angel, take me deeper.” he urges softly, his fingers entangling on your [H/c] locks, his gaze fixated on your hollowed cheeks and watery eyes. The sight of your tears only serves to fuel his desire to push himself further into your mouth, relishing the idea of watching you Choke on him. The thought of you looking so enticing in that vulnerable state drives him to actually thrust himself deeper down your throat.

Satoru thrusts upwards, causing your throat to constrict as you struggled to breathe. Tears ran down your cheeks and saliva dripped onto his shaft.

“Breathe through your nose.” He instructs.

“That’s it,” he uttered with a sensual groan, his eyes half-closed as he guided your head to move back and forth on his dick. He licked his lips, observing you as you found it difficult to deepthroat him.

He hummed contentedly, the room filled with nasty squelching sounds. He savored the feeling of your throat tightening around his cock like a vice.

Such a poor thing, he thought, feeling your fingers dig into his thighs. He ran his fingers through your [H/c] tresses before slowly withdrawing from your mouth with an audible pop, a strand of viscous fluid on your lips cheeks flushed and eyes dewy.

“That’s enough, i don’t want you vomitting on my dick.”

Gingerly, he swept the disheveled locks from your face and captured your lips once more, not giving you a time to recover, humming as he tasted himself on you. When at last you broke for air, chests heaving in unison, he met your hooded gaze with a glint of intrigue.

“You suck at this.” A grin tugged at the corners of his mouth as his strong hands found your waist.

“M’ sorry,”

You shuddered involuntarily as his fingers delicately traced the contours of your neck, eliciting a chill that radiated through your trembling form. Soft whimpers escaped your quivering lips.

“Shhh..” he cooed in a velvet tenor, his palm softly gliding along your side before his digits pressed deeply into the plush of your ass. A small gasp passed through your slightly parted mouth at the fervent sensation of his fingernails gingerly clawing your supple skin.

“I know that y’wanna please me.”

“But there is no need to overexert yourself,” he said as if he wasn’t the one who practically shoved your face down on his dick.

“I enjoyed it,”

“D-did you?” you inquired.

“Fuck yes, your throat’s squeezin’ me so tight n’ it feels good.”

A swelling sensation arose within your thorax as elation is in your throat, though an acute pain seized your esophagus. Your larynx felt inflamed and raw, as if scoured by sandpaper. But despite the troubles afflicting your throat, you had performed admirably based on his praise, you felt proud.

“Maybe i should reward you for bein’ so good?” he purrs, his hand sliding from your stomach down to your lower abdomen, a low hum escaping his lips as he plunges his fingers into your hole. A sharp gasp escapes your lips as he begins to curl his fingers inside you, pressing against your g-spot and stretching you again. As moments pass, he withdraws his fingers, your slick coating them entirely.

“I think you’re more than ready.”

“Let’s get you on top, yeah?” he says lifting your form to straddle his hard cock.

He reveled in the sight of you nestled against his towering frame, a delicate contrast to his strong physique. Each ragged gasp you drew in, every flush on your face, and the smudged remnants of makeup only served to enhance your allure in his eyes.

“C’mon, take me in.” he says, kissing your cheek. “Just hold onto me”

Your response was a subtle bite to your lower lip, a silent surrender as you obediently placed your trembling hand on his firm neck, burying your heated countenance in the sanctuary of his shoulder.

“Hm...”

He hoists you up slightly, his firm hand wrapped around his cock, guiding it towards the heat between your thighs. The tip of his arousal brushes against your clit, eliciting a fervent sigh as you inadvertently dig your nails into his muscular back.

“Ready?”

A soft whimper escapes your parted lips as he slowly eases into you, the initial entrance is a searing burn, it burns deliciously as he splits you open.

You sunk your teeth into his shoulder, the searing sensation reverberating through you as his cock pressed against your cervix with a tantalizing ache. “Relax, let me in.” his whispered command brushed against your nape, his lips trailing kisses as his fingers drew deliberate circles upon your quivering skin.

“It’s... it's too much,” you gasped, the overwhelming fullness causing you to scrabble at his back, your nails digging into flesh as you felt the sting of tears welling in your eyes.

“T-too much, ‘Toru, please,” You writhe

“C’mon, You can handle it,” He remained motionless, allowing you the space to acclimate to the invasion, his warm breath ghosting over your ear as he urged you to yield.

“Relax, pretty, let me in.”

Your head swims with a dizzying blend of pleasure as you feel him deep inside you, his hand venturing downward to circle and massage your clit. Gradually, you begin to acclimate And he exhales in pleasure as he revels in the tight clench of your walls around him, the exquisite sensation coiling through him.

“Do you feel that?”

“You’re taking it so well,” he groans.

“It fits so perfectly well isn’t it? It’s like you were made for me.” he whispered.

“Alrighty, time to move okay ? Put your back into it.” he gripped your hips firmly, he guides your body to ebb and flow along his dick.

“Up, down.”

You couldn’t help but let out a loud moan as you felt the heat of his rigid cock gliding inside of you . His hips bucked, setting a quickened pace that had your breath hitching in pure ecstasy. Your eyes fluttered shut as each powerful thrust hit that sweet spot deep inside you, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through every fiber of your being.

“‘Toru, ‘Toru” You whined his name.

“Pl-please," you gasped, your voice laced with need, as you instinctively dug your nails into his muscular back, raking them down with a delicious sting.

“I need… I need you to… kiss me,” you managed to murmur.

“You want me in your mouth too, hm?” He teased before pressing his lips against yours, your teeths clashing together.

“Fuckk, that’s it...”

His soft expletive escaped his lips as he reluctantly withdrew from the intoxicating embrace of your mouth. His hands slid down the curves of your waist, mesmerized by the sight of his cock moving rhythmically within you.

“Your lips taste like ambrosia,” he murmured, his words accompanied by the clenching of your inner muscles around him.

Fuck, he was drunk in your sounds, drunk in the way you feel, you were just so heavenly.

“C’mon, cum. I know you want to.” he coaxed, a low moan escaping him as he felt your body shudder in ecstasy, tightening around him as you cum hard.

The sensation of your climax sent a jolt of pleasure through him, his own release building rapidly. His abdominal muscles clenched as he inhaled sharply, the intensity of the moment overwhelming him.

“Fuck.. can I... inside?” he asked in a whimpery voice, seeking your permission in a breathless whisper. You, lost in a haze of pleasure, simply nodded in acquiescence. With a guttural groan, he emptied himself into you.

Even as he already released, his pace did not falter, fucking you as if you’re his little human fleshlight. His grip on your waist tightened as he deftly shifted your positions, swiftly flipping you over so that you were beneath him.

“Let’s go for another.”

━━𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋

Your respiration came in uneven gasps as your tongue lolled delicately from your mouth. Your visage was flushed a deep scarlet and a sheen of perspiration coated your form. Your gaze, though half-lidded with lust, remained trained attentively upon him. Situated backwards upon his lap, your legs were parted widely as he nestled his face against your scapular region. Your hands clung desperately to his biceps.

One of his hands rested upon the slender column of your throat, while the other rests on your chest, playing with your nipples. His cock thrusts rhythmically into your inner sanctum the tip of his dick kissing your pretty little cervix, coaxing ever more ardent melodies of euphoria from your lips.

His hand slid down your body, a subtle pressure teasing the soft curve of your abdomen as he pressed against the small bulge on her abdomen.

“Haah... Fuck.. you feel me in there pretty? M’ so deep in you.”

He let out a low moan, his grip tightening around your hip as he intensified his rhythm.

Satoru’s respiration was labored, eyelids weighed down as his lips caressed your shoulders delicately. Crimson marks peppered your skin where his mouth had wandered voraciously. Your back met his chest in a slow slide, your skin kissing his.

The sound of heavy breathing, moans, and skin slapping against each other vibrated through the room.

Your thighs ached dully and muscles sore from prior exultations.

“mnhh.. ‘Toruu, please,” You mewled, squirming.

“M’ tired already, Please... S’ too much.”

You two have been going on it for some quite time now, how many times did he made you cum again? Was it six times? You can distinctly recall experiencing orgasm twice from his tongue, once from his fingers, and three times from his cock. The sensation of being stretched caused considerable discomfort, even though he took the time to prepare you, it still stung.

“Mnh.. my poor angel is tired, huh?” satoru uttered in a mellifluous tone, tracing the swirling contours of your auricle with the tip of his tongue before affixing an ardent kiss on the pulsing carotid beneath.

“Don’t worry.” Satoru says.

“I’ll take care of you after this... So, just be a good girl and take it all, okay?”

Satoru had already become enraptured in the way you tasted and sounded, drunk on the melodic chorus of gasps and moans that spilled wantonly from you. Though sobriety had returned to claim his clarity of mind once more, for you intoxication still lingered and he knew it.

He wanted to stop, but how could he? You were squeezin’ and taking him so good and deep, and he just needed this release after the suguru incident after all.

He was having too much fun in splitting you in half after all.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

AUTHORS NOTE:

I CAN'T BELIEVE I WROTE THIS SJKSKSJS, fun fact; i’m an asexual virgin. It's so funny writing this HAHHAHAHA, i literally CACKLED when i was writing “pussy, cunt, cock,” AHHSHSHAH MY IMMATURITY COULD NEVER😭 I WOULD KMS IF I EVER ADDED BALLS.💀

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saerins · 2 months

Note

U think u could tell us how y/n’s mother figured out she fucked with Eita?

extra chapter: friendship

꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ — part of priceless. before you ever met sae, when you were twenty there was another boy that took care of you: how your mother figured out you were fooling around with eita, and all the little things in between.

content: otoya eita x female reader. smut/nsfw. both reader and eita are great at being avoidant. pet names (baby/princess), cunnilingus, penetration, mentions of masturbation, orgasm denial, they get caught in the act. word count: 2.3k

༝༚༝༚ omg nonnie SORRY my hand slipped this turned out way longer than i thought it would be !! but yes anyway have this :D wrote this at work btw & didn’t proofread so you have been warned !!!

this is bad. so bad.

you really shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be testing the waters like this. you’re at a recon for the school, taking a tour of the hotel for the event that you’re all going to be ushers at. but that doesn’t seem like the case when you and eita seemingly love to do whatever you want, whenever you want.

ever since that night at the club, the first time you’d ever let eita in, it’s become addictive.

the distraction. you never have to think about what bothers you whenever he’s around, whenever he looks at you with those lust-blown eyes, whenever his fingers trail to your inner thighs; always a tell-tale indication of what he wants, what he needs from you too.

he’s your best friend, and this is not what best friends should be doing, but you crave for the way his tongue can make you forget, even if just momentarily, about all your problems. you really shouldn’t be doing this, getting distracted so many times especially during exam season and especially not in a public place but the both of you can never help it.

not like the fleeting touches in the bus helped. eita’s always the one who instigates it, his fingers always finding some way to sneak onto your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh before testing your limits, creeping higher and higher until he drags you into a vacant hotel room left unattended by one of the staff, to the safety behind closed doors where no one would know of your little antics with each other.

and sometimes you think he’s been waiting a long time for you to submit to him, with the way he’s always hungry for you, or maybe that’s just how he is—you wouldn’t know. but his many other girls would, though now he’s too preoccupied with you to pay attention to anyone else.

he’s staring down at you as you lie down on the bed, dress hiked up over your chest, his fingers trailing down your chest to your underwear, hooking under the waistband and tugging on it. a little tilt of his head as he appreciates what he’s about to undress completely.

he really shouldn’t take his time, given that the staff could come knocking on the door at any moment. but he’s already locked the latch so they shouldn’t think about getting in if he isn’t done with you yet.

“pretty,” he comments, voice hoarse with arousal as he swallows the lump in his throat. “this new?” because he swears, of the many times you both have done it by now, that he’s never seen you wear such lingerie, satin mixed with lace, in black and so, so enticing on you.

you giggle under your breath, his pants growing visibly tighter as he continues to stare at you. “does it matter?” it is new, and you’d partly just wanted to see what eita looked like when he really likes something, and he’d once said that he likes black lace. an off-handed answer or not, he gives you the reaction you’re looking for, hands desperately grabbing onto your hips as he kisses you as if he hasn’t seen you in forever.

but he’s seen you just two nights ago, squirming under him on his sheets. he’s seen you three nights before then, when he willingly ditched a date for you. he’s seen you many times in ways no one has ever seen you before and right now he’s going crazy because why has he never noticed that you’re so fucking ethereal like this?

your mouth squeals out his name as he marks you a little too hard on your neck, the image of you one day somehow not being solely his managing to irk him in some way. but that’s the deal, that’s what he told you—that this is temporary, for fun. and you’re keeping your end of the deal; you’re never clingy, and you never act like he’s yours. that’s good, because getting attached just sounds like such a hassle and eita’s fine with this.

he’s fine with your hands unzipping his pants, pulling it down as desperately as he’s undressing you; the thin material falling to the floor as he breaks the kiss to look at you, all bare underneath him. you always avert your gaze when he does this—the only time he’s ever seen you shy. you’re otherwise always brazen with a sharp tongue that seeing you like this, trying to contain your voice as he massages your breasts, somehow turns him on so much that he can’t help but tease you, to try to break through your guard.

eita scoffs, a smirk on his face as he tauntingly mocks you. “usually you’re so loud when you talk back to me in public,” he hums, tongue flicking against your nipple, your back arching in response. “what happened to you now, huh? what’re you holding back for, princess?”

his fingers glide across your skin slowly, down your chest to your hips to your pussy, his smirk growing wider when he finds that you’re absolutely soaked and he’s barely done anything yet. he supposes that’s the adorable part of you—since he’s your first, you’re always so excitable, so vulnerable.

“eita, i swear to god—”

he pushes a finger in before you can cuss him out, disturbing your train of thought as he sucks on your nipple, getting what he wants and hearing you moan out his name in a way only you can—so saccharine and sinful that it makes him even harder.

you drive him absolutely crazy.

“look at yourself,” he says, pressing his forehead against your cheek, head tilted towards the mirrored wall just beside the bed. your walls clench around his finger and he chuckles, pressing a kiss on your cheek. “such a good girl, letting me do what i want to you.”

you’re never used to this, to letting eita completely have the upper hand, to let eita talk to you like you belong to him, but you’re helpless whenever it comes to this. your whimpers are enough to let him know that he has control, and he always knows how to make you feel so good that you willingly submit.

“fuck,” you groan as you feel him pushing another finger inside you, your eyes squeezing shut, the tears flowing as you start to feel overwhelmed by it.

your phone rings at the worst time, and you’re about to just ignore it when eita does one better. “answer it,” he tells you, after looking at the caller ID. it’s just kimiko, the student who’s put in charge today, responsible for overseeing all of you and making sure you all know what’s going on before the actual day.

“but—”

“answer,” he tells you again, his fingers stopping midway, a mewl leaving your lips as you feel the high you’re chasing abruptly disappearing. he pulls his fingers out, showing you just how wet you are, the string of your slick being pulled apart by his fingers.

eita’s sexy and cruel and downright irritating when he knows he’s got the upper hand, but you have no will left to resist, wanting the release he can provide you, your hands already reaching out to answer the phone, hoping to make it short and sweet.

he knows what you’re thinking, you’re not as elusive as you think in these situations. that’s why he purposely latches his mouth onto your clit the moment you start talking, your voice quivering as you feel his tongue licking quick fat stripes up the nub. you can’t even wait for kimiko to respond, hurriedly telling her you and eita are busy before hanging up, your fingers tangled in his hair as your thighs wrap around his neck.

“something wrong, y/n?” he teases, his chuckle sending light vibrations that make your spine tingle. but he knows you love this, love the way his tongue rubs circles around your clit, love the way he’s telling you to cum for him, love the way he’s taking such good care of you.

the way eita moans as he feels you close to your high always tips you over the edge, and every single time he denies you of it, making you beg for him. always a sadist, but it’s not like you can resist.

brows raised in mockery, the back of his fingers brushing against your cheeks as you plead with him to please fuck you. yet he always caves in almost immediately, a dangerous sign that you can get him to do almost anything you ask.

eita taps his dick against your pussy, your slick collecting on his tip, his mouth falling open at the sensation, at the mere thought of being inside you. he’s so, so tempted fuck you raw but that’s not a risk either of you can take.

he’s confident he can pull out, definitely. but maybe if it’s anyone but you. if it’s you, he might just lose himself. he’s already jerked himself off to the thought of cumming inside you, at the thought of filling you full and watching as his cum flows out of your pretty little cunt.

so no, he can’t fucking risk taking you raw because he might actually doom the both of you. reluctantly, he grabs the condom from his pants pocket, long discarded on the floor, and rolls it over his length, the way your eyes are filled with desire already threatening to send him spilling before he’s even inside you.

you’re so, so dangerous.

so fuck, why is he so hooked?

his eyes gaze at where you’re connected to him, the greens rolling to the back of his head as he feels you clenching around his dick, sucking him in. he’s had sex too many times to count, with multiple girls of multiple origins—his head falls back, tilted to the ceiling because he’s so, so close but fuck if he’s going to cum before you do—and yet you’re the only one who feels this good.

what is it about you?

he can’t fucking think straight, not when you keep chanting his name like that—it’s already committed to his memory by now. it’s his favourite melody; the way you say his name.

“eita, fuck i can’t—”

eita’s eyes fly open, looking at how your hands are gripping at the sheets, at how your face is positively lewd that it makes all those videos he watch go to shame, at how the condom is soaked with your juices. he can’t take it, his fingers digging into the plush flesh of your thighs, your name flying out of his mouth in half moans, something he’s too ashamed to admit he only does with you.

“just cum for me, baby,” he pants, the pet name rolling off his tongue before he can realise it but the both of you are too lost in how you feel that it flies over both your heads. “good girl, come on, cum.”

his skin slaps your skin once more, thrusting hard one last time as he releases, your gummy walls clenching around him as you let go at the same time, your nails on his biceps finally relaxing, nearly drawing blood.

eita’s panting, falling onto you as he squeezes the last drop out, wishing that it was spilled inside you. you let him rest against your body, like you always do because you’re nice, taking the time to catch your own breath. it’s like routine by now, the both of you barely discussing about what you just did, acting like it’s a part of a normal day, like best friends fuck each other everyday, and then go back to resuming what you’re supposed to do.

that is, getting back to kimiko and the others. a part of you feels a little guilty; even though you don’t know her aside from your one-minute interaction earlier today, you know by the look in her eyes when she stares at eita that she’s probably got a crush on him. being a pro soccer player in university as well as being part of a band in school, you’re not surprised that girls are practically lining up for him. yet here he is, too busy for other girls because he’s busy satisfying you.

both of you are too absorbed in your individual thoughts to realise that the door is already opened now, when you’re still pulling your underwear up halfway, when eita’s still standing there in just his boxers, and the both of you are staring dumbly at the person in the doorway because you both recognise them.

there she is, your mother in all her demonly presence, scoffing with her arms crossed as she looks her daughter up and down like she isn’t entirely surprised. beside her is the current man she’s making use of, a poor thing you don’t even want to associate with because she’s going to discard him as soon as he does something wrong.

sometimes you wonder if she ever loved your father or if he was just one of these… poor things.

“get me a different room, i don’t want to sleep in one where such loose kids have been in,” she commands at the man, as if she doesn’t know you, glaring at both of you with disgust. though you and eita look at her with the same look in your eyes.

the moment she leaves the room, you feel eita’s warmth surround you, but your hands stay at your side, both anger and despair welling up in you at the same time.

this is temporary. this is just a distraction. but eita will do his best to make you forget, no matter what—because he’s seen you that day, broken and wailing, blood all over your hands. he’ll do anything not to see you like that again.

there’s a certain selfishness in his actions, but his kiss stuns you anyway, because you know it’s probably not just a simple kiss but lack the energy to dissect it anyway.

“just forget about her, okay?” he whispers in your ear, the gentlest tone you’d ever heard him in.

for now you just let it be, and so does he. things are easier if neither of you question this. for the sake of your friendship.

yeah, that’s what it is.

#bllk smut #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #otoya x reader #otoya eita x reader #otoya eita smut #blue lock smut #otoya x you #otoya x y/n #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #otoya eita #otoya smut #૪ aeri’s fics !

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