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simpjaes · 5 months

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FIRST DATE ETIQUETTE (p.sh)

Park Sunghoon is not dull, nor is he the clean cut neighbor your mother thinks he is. Oh, the horrors of if she found out that the man she set you up on this date with immediately took you home and rendered you unable to walk...he'd never be able to defend himself without a swift slap to the head.

៸៸៸ minors do not interact!

៸៸៸ PARING: park sunghoon x afab reader

៸៸៸WC: 9.3k

៸៸៸ TAGS: mentions of food (meat), strangers to fucking immediately to the possibility of dating later, brat taming, mocking and making fun of each other, sneaky sex, flirting and bullying in the same instance, cocky sunghoon, um…they’re kind of competitive in bed

៸៸៸ A/N: what’s that? you’ve read this before? that’s bc i wrote it! I’ve revised the original now to fit sunghoon because I am insatiable in my lust for him. (original title: the bore next door)

smut tags under cut::

SMUT TAGS: dom sunghoon, bratty/sub reader, huge cock agenda (again), he gets the best head he’s ever had, he calls you messy a lot (he likes it messy), face fucking, pussy eating, nipple biting, finger fucking, squirting, dirty talk, wow i can’t believe I actually wrote a condom being used this time!!!!, sunghoon tries to make you moan because his horny brain wants your parents to know, dirty talk, praise, hair pulling.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

23rd street. The restaurant is on 23rd street, and you can honestly say you’ve managed to hit every street but this one. From 13th to 35th, does the street in question even truly exist? Were you set up by your parents?

In short, you have been single since high school. Maybe a few flings here or there throughout college but you never truly settled on one man or woman in a relationship. You’re almost shocked that your parents are pushing so hard for you to find love. They want you to somehow feel the love from the movies, something like they had felt when they met. In this century, unfortunately, love isn’t quite as predictable.

You can’t just pick a person who has a good job and a decent face and assume love will settle in someday.

Not only is it not predictable but it isn’t a priority in your life. You have no interest in meeting the standard a man could hold for you, nor a woman, or family member. You’re here to exist in your own way, work your way up through the corporate food chain, and live in a home with over thirteen cats before dying a peaceful death in your late eighties. Why do you need a man to do any of this? Why do you need to settle for one cock, one set of hands, and one personality?

Right, because mom wants you to at least try to experience what love is. Surely, it’s just because she desperately wants a grandchild from her one and only daughter. Sorry to disappoint, but that will not happen any time soon. Children were never a thought in your mind, nor was marriage, a honeymoon, or a burial plot next to another person. Your mother knows this, but the least you can do is show some effort to please her, right? To prove that relationships just aren’t your thing, and you’d much rather have the funds to live a comfortable life all on your own.

23rd street is the small thumb tack on a map where there is a restaurant that holds a very, very, annoying arrangement.

Your mother had really sold the idea to you. She says the nice neighbor boy next to her seems to be around your age, he brings her the mail sometimes. He seems to have a job, his own car, his own home that sits in a plot next to theirs. His lawn stays mowed, the siding on his house stays clean, and apparently he seems quite lonely considering your mother appears to have watched him enough to know he doesn’t bring any girls home.

At least that she’s aware of.

She doesn’t mention what he looks like and of course, when you’d asked because, in all honesty, that’s the most important thing to you if you’re going to get anything out of this, she simply states that he dresses well, is handsome, and has dark hair.

For all you know, she just set you up on a date with Antonio Banderas.

What you weren’t expecting though, is to find this restaurant almost an hour late and walk in to find an already half-eaten meal in front of a man who looked at you as if you were any stranger on the street.

A stranger you were, and so was he, but honestly, he is attractive. That alone made you feel a bit guilty for not having found this place sooner. The idea that the man in front of you did not wait for you shows that he also has priorities that aren’t you. This is probably a huge inconvenience for him too, if anything.

Imagine your nice neighbor lady telling you to go to a restaurant to meet her daughter? God. The first words out of your mouth are an apology. Not for being late, and not for not even wanting to be here, but for your mother for even trying.

“Sorry about my mom,” you mutter, plopping down into the booth with a sigh. You eye over his food, already knowing that the check will likely be split. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Why the rush?” The man immediately says, pushing an untouched glass of water your way. “I don’t mind that you were late, I was just really hungry.”

You hum at him, waiting for the waitress to come over so you can place the most obnoxious order in the world because you’re really not in the mood to even look at the menu or the prices. Chicken strips and fries, obviously.

“So, what did you order?” You state, eyeing his plate.

“Steak?” He says it like a question, as if it is the most obvious thing in the world and it definitely is. Clearly there is a half-eaten steak that probably costs over twenty dollars on his plate. Still, you were just trying to make small talk.

The man says nothing after this, offering nothing but an awkward atmosphere. It doesn’t take long at all for you to stop caring about the entire arrangement, as if you cared in the first place.

“Look—” You try to offer, and the handsome man in front of you doesn’t even quirk a brow as he sips his own drink. “I don’t even remember your name, and I know my mom is trying to set us up but—”

“You’re not interested, and you have better places to be?” The man finishes for you as he sits his drink down with a gulp that makes much less sound than your own. “That’s fair. My name is Sunghoon, by the way.”

You nod at him, already deciding that you’ll get chicken strips somewhere else on your own so that you can eat them in the comfort of your own home, alone, without a stupidly handsome man in front of you that has, probably, less interest than you do.

“Well, I’m interested, and I don’t have anywhere better to be,” Sunghoon says, shooting his eyes up at you. “And to be quite honest with you, your mother was right. You are pretty.”

Taken aback, you’re somehow comforted by his forwardness towards you. He acts just as uninterested as you do but counters that demeanor with his words. You can’t imagine that this is how the man picks up women, there’s honestly no way he would win that way. No wonder he is single. Then again, you kind of do the same thing. You see an attractive person and you act much the same as Sunghoon right now. Uninterested in anything long-term but clearly interested in something.

“I’m pretty, huh?” You laugh, sipping the water and internally giving this man an extra three minutes to fully sell the idea of this date to you. “Imagine my surprise to walk in and find that I was set up on a date with someone that is actually attractive.”

“Oh?” Sunghoon quirks a brow. “Is this how you return a compliment?”

You shrug.

“Is this how a date normally goes for you—you know, where you’ve already eaten your food and would probably rather pay and leave before she even gets a chance to order?”

“No,” he responds pointedly. “Would you rather me throw a tantrum that you were late?”

“You’d be a lot less dull if you did.” You throw back, eyeing a waitress as she heads over.

Sunghoon watches as you place your order and watches a bit harder at the way you smirk at yourself through nearly everything you say. You must think you’re clever, you must think he’s willing to chase you or something.

“I’m dull?” He questions, staring you down with narrowed eyes when the waitress walks away. “You just ordered chicken strips at one of the most expensive restaurants in town.”

You’re taken aback a bit, shaking off his little insults and sitting straight up. Interesting date, truly.

“Okay then, Sunghoon—” You say his name as if it’s a joke or something, but you don’t really let him react to it. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a systems software developer,” he deadpans, swirling his very nonalcoholic water in his hand. “Not that you’d know what that is or anything. And you?”

In all honesty, you don’t really know what that means, but it isn’t hard to figure it out. Assuming he must make programs or something, assuming he probably flew through college in order to do it in the way he seems proud of what he does. In all honesty, it still sounds like such a bore. He must talk in code or something in his free time.

“I’m—uh—I’m a teacher.” You try to laugh, realizing that you’re kind of putting him down when he very clearly must make more money than you do.

Only now does it set in that your mother stated he has his own home. One that sits directly beside theirs in a neighborhood that you grew up in. One that you tried to find your own home in but ended up in a shitty apartment in the city because it is all you could afford. Sunghoon must make good money.

“Oh yeah? What do you teach?” He perks up in interest, no longer acting as if he is trying to insult you and instead offering conversation to you with such ease that you almost forget you’re supposed to be getting through the date in discomfort.

“I teach everything, I guess. It’s just first grade. I swear, I teach them how to pull up their pants properly more than how to spell words.” You smile to yourself thinking of the loud and obnoxious children you teach five days a week.

Your job is why you don’t want children though. Your job is why you’d rather stay single. All you hear about is how the third-grade english teacher is fucking the fifth-grade science teacher even though he has a wife who is pregnant with their second child. Sometimes you hear gossip about the students themselves. Who in their right mind as an adult would gossip about elementary school kids? It’s no wonder you’re not a favored teacher. You’re sure they’ve said something about you for not having a significant other or a child on the way too.

Sunghoon smiles through your endearment towards your class, eyes perking up at the plate of chicken strips on their way to you. He doesn’t say much when you thank the waitress and doesn’t really pay attention to the way you devour the first strip in nearly one bite.

“Seems like a lively job. I just sit around all day staring at a computer screen…” He begins to drone on about his own job, sounding more like background noise in your head if you’re being honest. You can barely hear him over the crunching of your chicken and you’re a bit thankful for that.

“And I think that it was really worth the—” You interrupt his long string of sentences with a call of his name. “Sunghoon, do you have any other interests?” You ask, sipping your water.

He deadpans at your rudeness of interrupting him. Sunghoon doesn’t often go out on dates, nor does he often get asked about these types of things so, he goes quiet, flicking his eyes down to his hands and then back up to you.

“I like to go hiking, I guess? Watching movies? Sometimes I like to cook—”

Ah. He’s one of those guys.

“Those are like, the most common interests a person can have. You don’t have any special hobbies or weird quirky things you like to do?” You question, trying to see something in him past the fact that he’s nice to look at and has a decent paycheck.

“I don’t really have the time to put into other things. When I’m not working, I’m busy cleaning my house or doing yard work since I’m usually too tired during the week to do it.”

“God, you are such a bore.”

Sunghoon realizes now that maybe you’re not just throwing around banter. Sure, neither of you really wanted to come on this date but he could have used the time away from a computer screen to look at his neighbor’s daughter. If anything, it was an interesting offer, and those don’t come by him too often. He had seen photos of you. He knew you were pretty, and he also should have known you were a bit stubborn with the way your mother warned him before the date.

“If I was so boring, would I be sitting here on a date with a woman I don’t know?” He glares over at you.

“I don’t know, probably. It isn’t the riskiest thing in the world. What? You don’t have tinder?”

Sunghoon looks down again, because no, he doesn’t have fucking tinder and he doesn’t understand why that matters. “Why does that matter?”

“Ah, so we are similar.” You smile to yourself in a small win, and you’re not even sure if it’s even an argument at this point. “No time for hobbies, so no time for dating either?”

He nods slowly at you, completely confused by the way you go from picking his personality apart to finding some way to connect with him.

“We can wrap this up then if you want?” You offer, still picking at the food on your plate. “I can pay for mine, so I release you from this arrangement.”

He just sits there staring at you. What a peculiar woman. Do you really assume he isn’t somehow finding the fun in all of this? In all honesty, this date is going off without a hitch compared to many other dates he’s been on. He has never been on a date where he is criticized, nor has he ever criticized a date himself before.

It’s almost kind of nice, like a breath of fresh air being able to meet someone who isn’t trying to show their best aspects. Someone who is sitting in front of him being as real as they possibly can be. Sure, you’re attractive, but your lack of interest in this date is somehow—flooring.

“What if I want to stay?” He makes eye contact with you. “What if I want to pay for your overcooked chicken?”

“I’d be letting you win if you pay for me, but you’re free to stay.” You wave him off with your hand, realizing that the chicken is very dry and wasn’t hitting the spot like you’d been pretending. “So, what now then?” You add with a tilt of the head.

“Admitting I’m interested in you?” He says it with so much confidence that you’re a little bit surprised, because this entire time you’ve been trying to act as uninterested as possible, despite finding some amount of attraction to Sunghoon.

“Poor you,” You coo, pushing your plate away from you and pulling your almost-empty water closer. “Okay, let’s try and make this worth something then.”

Sunghoon prepares himself to listen, but honestly, he couldn’t have prepared for what you’re about to say to him.

“Neither of us are looking for anything serious right?” You ask, continuing after he nods. “So,” you pause briefly, thinking a bit too hard on how to word it. “Why don’t we just treat it like a tinder date?”

You’re definitely implying that the night could continue together, only to never speak of or see each other again after the sun rises.

“Are you suggesting I bring you home with me?” He looks at you with a face you can’t really read.

“Isn’t that what people do when they’re on a date, find each other attractive, but want nothing more?” You reiterate for him, because he seems to have trouble processing what you’re trying to get across to him. “Unless this isn’t your thing?”

Sunghoon pulls his hand up and pushes his hair out of his face for a moment. He’s thinking about it, barely even realizing that you’ve known each other for less than an hour.

“I didn’t take you for the type of fuck on the first date.” He cocks his head, looking at you in a lazy way.

It feels a little painful that the first curse word he says out loud is describing something that involves you and your offer.

“I’m not, usually, but it has been a while for me and I can’t help but think we could have fun with it.”

He nods, eyeing you down. “Do you want to drive to my house then? Or do I need to bring you back to get your car?”

“Nah, I can drive. I know where you live, considering I grew up next door and all. I can just crash at my parent’s house once we are done.”

Sunghoon kind of shifts his eyes nervously, looking down at the table and then back at you with a lick against his bottom lip. “Speaking of, your parents—” He pauses, fiddling with his hands. “Look, they probably wouldn’t expect me to be the type to uh, get intimate with their daughter on the first date.”

“Only date,” you correct him, amused. “What, you thought we would meet again after this?”

Sunghoon waves you off dismissively. “That’s not the point. I don’t want my neighbors thinking I’m some fuckboy, and I’d rather them not find out because I’m sure your mom would slap the shit out of me the next time I bring her the mail.”

“Sunghoon—” You snort in a mocking tone. “My mom set you up on a date with me, you’re gonna take me home and show me a good time within an hour of meeting me. Imagine if she found out you’re not as sweet and innocent as she thinks–”

His face goes warm, but his eyes darken a bit as he looks at you. “Listen, I don’t usually do this.”

“Well yeah, you seem too boring to actually have some fun.”

Offense taken.

And when he says nothing else to that, you speak up again, this time a bit more gentle.

“Don’t feel like you have to. I can go home and we can pretend this never happened.”

“No, no,” Sunghoon assures, making eye contact with the waitress as if to silently ask for the check. “I could use the distraction.”

He was slim when he stood up, obnoxiously attractive getting into his stupidly expensive car, and even the way he drove in front of you pissed you off. He drove the speed limit all the way to the familiar street of your childhood. What a boring, boring man.

When he pulls into his driveway, you aren’t sure if you should park at his house or your own. You realize if you park at either your parents will wonder why you’re parking in their driveway but not in their living room, or wonder why you’re parked in the clean-cut Sunghoon’s driveway because he would never fuck their daughter on the first date.

You opt to park a block away, walking to Sunghoon’s house and feeling a bit silly for hiding.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Fitting,” you say as you step into his living room and scan the way he is entirely boring.

“What?” He asks from behind you, watching you judge his space.

“Very monotonous, very you.”

Sunghoon sighs at your constant critiques of him, but he’s smiling through it because you’re still here, and you’re the one who suggested coming home with him.

“I’ve gotta say, I’ve never brought a woman home just to have her insult me,” he laughs, stepping around you and placing his jacket on the end of the couch. “I can imagine that your place hasn’t been cleaned since you moved in.”

You glare at him, slipping your own jacket off and throwing it on his floor out of spite.

“I am a comfortable mess, Sunghoon, and you–” you scan the room once more, “are very clearly uncomfortable.”

He shifts his eyes for a second because, yeah. It’s not that he wouldn’t enjoy having colorful photos on the walls or a couple of knick-knacks lying around. Arguing about it isn’t your purpose for being here though, and he’d much rather skip the banter at this point.

“I can admit that your jacket looks good on my floor,” he takes a step forward, attempting to be as bold as he typically would be with a woman who knows how he is in bed. He’s never had to play off of his own cleanliness though. “I’m willing to make a mess of this house if you take more off.”

Oh, okay.

“Oh, so you can be interesting?” You mock him once again, reaching for the hem of your dress (yes, dress.) and looking at him. “You want to see my clothes on your floor?”

Sunghoon watches you intently, seeing your thighs being exposed more and more as the dress raises. His body is already reacting, becoming more attracted to your witty sense of displeasure toward his entire personality and lifestyle. After all, he’s a computer whizz and you deal with screaming children all day. He wonders why he expected anything less. Little do you know though, he fully intends to have you praising him before the night is up.

“I’d like to see you on my floor,” he answers, reaching for your dress and pulling it up further and above your head. “If I’m being honest, anyway.”

You were trying to go slow with the removal of your dress, mostly to see how he reacts to seeing a woman nearly naked in front of him but damn. You weren’t quite expecting how forward he’s being about it. Here you were expecting to be fucked missionary without any foreplay in a bed with all white sheets, right next to a washer and dryer, socks on, lights off.

“Oh,” you gasp, slightly out of character in his opinion but his body reacts even more to that. He’s already allowing himself to get aroused so, naturally, his confidence is also bubbling up through each thought and word he decides to say to you.

“What, you’re shocked?” He laughs, dropping your dress to the floor and scanning your body. “I can admit that I’m a little shocked too.”

You look at him in confusion, moving your arms over your chest and wondering what the fuck he’s talking about.

“You wore a matching set for a first date? With a complete stranger?” He mocks you this time, stepping even closer and running his fingers along the hem of your bra. You can feel the warmth from his thumb gently rubbing the skin as he does it and instantly your body tells on you in the form of goosebumps.

“I’ll have you know,” you’re the one stepping closer this time, “I always wear matching sets, because I like to feel sexy.”

You’re a liar. You definitely wore them just in case.

He hums, mere inches from your face as he looks down at you. It feels like he’s fucking looming, it feels like he must have his heat set too high or something.

It gets even worse when his eyes don’t leave yours, but you feel his hand drop from your chest only to hear the familiar sound of a belt being unbuckled. He stares at you while he does it, his hair falling in his face at the movement of what he’s doing waist down. For some reason, that does it for you, and you’re already rubbing your legs together as you stare right back at him.

“I think that’s bullshit,” he smirks, slipping his belt from the loops of his pants and tossing that to the floor as well, and then he brings his face another inch closer, “and don’t think I can’t tell that you’re turned on.”

You don’t back down, nor do you admit that he’s absolutely right. You just look at him, watching a strand of his hair fall in front of his eyes that are beginning to darken by the second.

“I’m not turned on, believe me, it’ll take a lot more than–” You’re cut off by him planting his hand directly between your legs, two fingers pressing your panties slightly into you.

“Hm?” He encourages you to say that again, but you’ve got your breath caught in your throat at his extreme change in demeanor.

Still, he’s looking directly at your face, watching the way you try to think of a lie.

“You wanna keep pretending that I’m boring?” He asks, sliding his fingers up and pressing against your clit.

You shake your head, finally dropping the act and blinking at him with empty thoughts.

“That’s what I thought,” He ticks his tongue at you, now pulling his fingers away and showing you that even through your panties, his fingers are already soaked. “Now take the rest off.”

You do as he says, watching him step away with his shirt untucked and his pants undone. You note that he grabs a condom, which for some reason reminds you that you’re definitely about to get railed into the next dimension if that bulge behind those pants implies anything.

Standing there with all of your clothes thrown around his living room, you watch him harder than you already had been. He’s slow when he sets the condom down on the table, and even slower when he walks up to you and places a hand on the top of your head before guiding you to sink down.

“Wha–right here?” You ask, feeling the clean carpet offer relief for your knees rather than the hard wood floors of the room over.

“I said I wanted to see you on my floor, didn’t I?” He smiles, already admiring how shameful you’d appear to be if your parents saw you naked and on your knees for him.

You nod, looking up at him. When you reach forward to actually lower his pants though, he steps back and continues to create distance between the two of you as he backs himself up to the wall and lounges against it.

“Crawl to me,” he instructs, wondering if it’s too much for you but letting out a pleased sound of relief when you instantly do it.

Would you normally let a man tell you to do that? No. Would you ever actually listen to a man who speaks to you like this? Fuck no. You can’t defend your actions when you do it and you also can’t lie that you’re absolutely fucking dripping over it. Like, honestly, he’s going to have to deep clean this fucking carpet by the time you leave this house.

When you reach him, you can feel the heat in your cheeks at the very idea of him from this angle. You sit on your knees, lifting your hands to his pants and lowering them before he can try to draw the process out even longer. You can hear him let out a short chuckle at the way you try to be quick with it, and you already know he’s about to say some shit.

“I didn’t expect you to be this eager.” He talks down to you with a deep and raspy voice, one that sounds entirely sensual. In terms of what he says though, honestly, you shouldn’t expect much more considering how the two of you practically roasted each other before this very instant.

You ignore his words, letting his pants drop to the floor and now reaching to pull his briefs down. You were incredibly unprepared for his size as you watched it stand stiff and raging in front of your face. Not a single hint of precum is seen, and it makes you feel kind of pathetic for how wet you’ve already gotten. It almost feels like a challenge now, to make him feel just as desperate as you do now.

Thankfully, your throat is fairly trained for sucking men until they’re trembling. Hopefully, all those dudes you’ve fucked around with before come in handy and don’t let you down this time around.

Sunghoon watches you from above, smiling over the way you stare at his length before finally touching it. He keeps his cool though, wondering how just over an hour ago you were ordering the worst food a restaurant has to offer, scoffing at his job, his hobbies, and now look at you. What a sight.

“Go on,” he encourages you, pressing his hips forward so that the head of his cock hits your cheek, “let me see how messy you are.”

You roll your eyes at him, gripping the base before closing your eyes and breathing in through your nose. The very second you wrap your lips around him, he has both hands on your head, not moving it, not pushing you down or anything, just resting there. You’d think it was sweet if it weren’t for the fact that he pushes his hips forward after four whole seconds.

So, he’s not going to guide your mouth, he’s going to hold it there? Okay, you guess. Thankfully, he’s not being super rough with it like you anticipated. If anything, he’s sliding himself into your mouth much as you’d do on your own.

He hums out at the feeling of your inner cheeks hugging against his length, pressing in more and more with each thrust of his hips until he finally gets the majority of his length past your lips. He can see you breathe through your nose, but he doesn’t feel resistance at all so he presses his hips in even more, essentially until he’s blocking your airways and your throat is restricted around him in a gag.

Instead of pulling your head back though, he feels your fingers grip the back of his legs, you’re trying. He holds your head there in place, feeling your throat massage his cock in probably one of the best ways he’s ever felt.

“Shit,” he seethes out between a bite of his lip, “you’ve done this before?”

The very thought of you letting your throat be used is enough for him to want to keep doing it, but hearing your response as a half-moaned gag vibrating around his length is a whole other story.

He releases his hands from behind your head just to see if what he thinks you’re implying with those vibrations of sounds is right, and god is he thrown for a loop. You stay there, and even when he pulls his hips back before fucking into your throat once more, you still stay there.

He’s going to lose his goddamn mind because never has a woman been able to withstand this amount in their throat for this long for him. Enough to actually have him a little worried that you’re essentially suffocating on him.

Sunghoon snaps his hips back, pulling out of your mouth and leaning down just a bit to grab your chin and guide your eyes up to him.

“Breathe,” he says, watching the way you smirk at him as if you’ve won some sort of award. He narrows his eyes at you, “You can choke all you want babe, but you’re gonna have to not be this cock drunk if you want to pretend that you’ve got the upper hand.”

That motherfucker. You’re trying to make him show just a hint of desperation for you and he completely flips the tables on you?

Before you can even argue again, he’s guiding your lips back on him. You decide that it’s not over yet, he can talk down to you all he wants, but you’re going to be the one laughing at him by the end of the night.

You allow him to place his hands back on your head, and you kind of like the weight of his cock on your tongue if you’re being honest, but god damn does he have a harsh rhythm. His hips snap languidly but he buries himself deep. Even when you try to look up at him as your nose presses against his pubic bone, he’s looking down at you so casually. Like he feels okay. Just okay.

This time, when he pulls his hips back, he doesn’t have to hold your head steady. You chase his length even as it tries to slide from your mouth, and you start to move your head back and forth in time with his hips. You finally receive a moan from him when you reach a hand up and cup his balls, massaging them in one hand as your saliva bubbles out from around your lips.

“So fucking messy–” he chokes out in a surprised moan, praising you for somehow making this feel even better than it already did.

You hum around him again, feeling the weight of his cock pulse against your tongue and you start to taste more of his precum. Shamefully, you’re starting to want this more and more. You want him to call you messy, you want him to bruise your throat. You don’t mind, now that you’ve seen a snippet of what he’s like when he shows his pleasure.

Just a moment goes by when you feel his hands grip your hair, pulling slightly and following the rhythm of your movements, just putting a bit more force behind them until he finally presses you one last time against his pelvic bone, swirling his hips and stretching out your throat impossibly more around him.

“Just like that, yeah,” his moans echo throughout his empty walls and it causes your eyes to flutter as you try to breathe in through your nose. When you gag, he moans again. “Fuck, you know exactly what you’re doing.”

Then, he releases you and watches with a smirk at the way you pull back in a deep breath before wiping your mouth.

You’re not sure why, but the way he’s looking at you makes you feel proud. Maybe it’s because he’s managed to pull out this weird, needy side of you, or maybe it’s because he looks incredibly good looking at you like this after the two of you spit insults at each other all night.

“Do you want me to return the favor?” He asks, finally unbuttoning and removing his shirt.

Seeing him now, you stare at his chest and toned arms, wanting to grab onto them and feel him do whatever it is he wants to do to you. He, on the other hand, can’t tell if you’re nodding to his question or looking him up and down slowly.

“You were so talkative earlier, what happened?” He smiles, stepping forward and falling to his knees himself, nudging your legs open in one go as he presses you back against his floor. “Do you want to fuck my tongue, or no?”

He continues to smile at your silence, eyes trained between your legs as he spreads them and then looks up at your face. “No?”

You shake your head, leaning back on your elbows to watch him and take a breath in.

“It’s hard to talk when you’re like,” you motions towards him, “that.”

He chuckles, taking it as a compliment before snatching a pillow off of his couch and tapping your thigh to get you to lift up. You do so, allowing him to place the pillow under your ass before he settles himself there.

His eyes stay locked on yours as his fingers start to trail to your core, slipping through your folds with such ease that your embarrassment shows plainly on your face.

“Messy,” he compliments, lightly tapping against your clit before lowering his head and blowing softly against the glistening heat you offer to him. “Keep your legs spread for me, darling.”

You still watch him, his eyes glaring up from between your spread thighs as he lets his tongue fall from his mouth and lick one long and languid stripe up your slit, stopping just before your clit and pulling back as if he’s tasting. You’re not sure what it is about him but goddamn, he must know he looks good when he’s pleasuring a woman.

Despite him asking you to keep your legs spread for him, it appears that he doesn’t trust you to do it because he’s still got one hand prying one of your legs apart and his head moving in all sorts of ways as he allows his tongue to lap every part of you besides your clit. Even his other hand, exploring and gently placing pressure against your entrance– the way he’s doing this makes you want to press forward, it makes you want to do exactly as he asked.

You roll your hips forward, and he instantly attaches his lips to your clit. You stop, and he trails back down and flicks his tongue against your folds in a teasing way. You grind forward, he’s right back on your clit, flicking his muscle the same way and eliciting a whine from you.

This time though, when you roll your hips back, he takes both hands and presses your legs open as far as he can get them, spreading your pussy out across his lips for him to take full control of. He nips at your clit before licking down, pressing the pointed muscle into you and only then does he release your legs. Now, he’s sliding both hands under your ass and rocking you against his face, angling his head so that he can lick inside to taste your plush and wet walls.

God, you’re gonna lose it. Even if you didn’t want to, you’d think the way he’s moving his mouth is enough to get anyone to take advantage of it. You moan, pressing forward and back against his mouth as your own fingers fall to your clit. You rub when you press forward, feeling his warm and wet saliva drip from your slit and down to your ass, and you rub harder when you pull back, watching his eyes flutter open and still somehow manage to glare at you.

And just as soon as it started, you blink and his face is right there. You would have let out a shocked sound, because jumpscare much? But you moan instead, because he hovers over you with a smirk and an arm between the two of you, his fingers instantly sliding into you as he attaches his lips to yours with little more than a moan of his own.

“Have you ever tasted yourself?” He asks, licking against your lips and scissoring his fingers open inside of you.

You have, but for some reason it tasted better this time when he prods his tongue against yours. Perhaps it’s because it’s from him, or maybe it’s because you are a little obsessed with the way he navigates sex.

When he pulls back from your mouth, now losing himself a little bit in the heat of the faces you make when you feel good, he can’t help but give you a moan along with your own. You sound so fucking good when you’re not talking your shit, and god he knew that mouth could do more than be annoying.

“Open up,” he whispers against your lips, licking your bottom lip as he thrusts his fingers deeper into you, “let me hear you.”

You can’t really help it. When you open your mouth, you’re practically panting for him. His arm is moving harshly as he fucks his fingers into you and causing you to nearly lose balance on your elbows, but he holds you there with his other arm wrapped around your waist, still licking against your lip and smirking when you still can’t say anything.

“Louder,” He instructs, at least wanting you to moan louder for him if you’re going to act like this when he’s touching you. “Let your momma hear how good it feels, babe, go on.”

Your eyes shoot open after that, and god, he is the fucking worst. Or maybe not, you can tell he does it on purpose. His fingers curling up inside of you and putting intense pressure against a spot that takes every man ages to find if they manage to even remember it.

“Sunghoon,” you groan, rolling your eyes back while rolling your hips forward, hand shooting to his and holding it there, “can’t you just fuck me already?”

He chuckles, dipping his head down to give a sharp bite against your nipple, his fingers still curling up into that spot.

“Soak my fingers first.” He says, floored by how good your voice sounds when you want to get fucked.

He continues to suck and bite against your nipple, and that sends shocks of pleasure straight down to where his fingers meet your g-spot. You could come right now if he’d just–

You roll your hips forward harder, grinding your clit against his wrist and essentially fucking yourself on his fingers now. He moans against your nipple at the movement, biting down harder as he hears you just above him holding your breath. It seems like you like not being able to breath, which is just fucking great for him. Your mom would be so heartbroken, honestly.

“You think you can ride my cock like this?” He asks, popping your nipple out of his mouth and moving those bites up your neck and to your ear, “Think you can take it?”

You nod with heat rushing through your body, feeling his wrist stiffen up for your pleasure to grind against.

Fuck, he can feel your cunt gripping his fingers as you work yourself up and it takes everything in him not to pull his fingers from you and absolutely bury himself into the tight heat you’re offering, but he holds back, pulling from your neck and watching the way your brows furrow and your mouth falls slack.

“Yeah, that’s it babe, ride it.” he encourages, hearing your wet slide against his fingers with each movement of your body.

You shake as it washes through you, feeling his fingers remain in their spot against your little bundle of pleasure inside of you. You feel like you can explode from this alone and he practically forces it out of you, pulling his fingers out and immediately rubbing circles on your clit.

“Let it go for me,” he encourages in a pleasured sigh, watching your body tremble involuntarily as your face contorts to what anyone else would assume is pain. He moves further back and watches your body soak both him and his floor. “Fuck, yes, such a fucking mess.”

Well, that’s never happened before and the fact that you’re still orgasming is also new. You feel so sensitive, releasing in waves that offer little in terms of self control. Your hands shoot to his arm, gripping him so tightly as you try to hear his moans for you, but to be honest, you can’t hear a fucking thing through this wall of arousal in your head.

Finally, you open your eyes and he’s just looking at you, smirking at the dripping against his legs and the wet spot on the floor.

“Messy, messy girl.” He says with a chuckle. “Dirtying up my living room like this? Come on, get up.”

This is the first time Sunghoon has ever had a woman squirt for him, and honestly he’s been trying for ages to let someone experience this through him, goddamn was it sexy to see. You look absolutely fucking gone at this moment, and he might be fucking in love with the image. So badly does he want to see those shaking legs try to stand for him, so badly, does he want to see you fucking buckle.

“Come on,” he says again, not giving you enough time to even think about standing before he’s pulling you up on wobbling legs and pressing your toward the couch.

He watches how you wobble over, shuffling your feet with your knees turned inward with each step. He can’t help but lick his lips, seeing how your arousal drips down both of your legs in a shameless show of how much his fingers alone could do for you.

“Sorry,” You rasp out as you make your way over, brain fogged from the orgasm and unable to feel much at all outside of the pulsing inside of you. “I’ve never–”

“Don’t worry, I like the mess.” He smiles, snatching up the condom and tearing the wrapper open with ease before rolling it down his length, staring at you.

Oh, right, he still hasn’t even fucked you yet. Fuck, he’s good.

He sits himself next to you, pulling an arm around your waist and guiding you on top of him. He doesn’t even think twice at your shaking legs, soothing them as you follow his hand and position yourself against his long neglected cock being held up with his other hand.

“Gonna keep that promise?” he asks, still smoothing his hands over your legs and looking up at you. “Gonna take my cock better than you did my fingers?”

You nod, feeling a pulse of electricity inside of you. Willing you to take more, wanting to be stretched further.

Besides, you know that once you’re seated with his length fucking impaling you, you’ll at least have his broad shoulders to hold onto if you need to stay steady.

And when you sink down, you hear the sound you’ve been trying to pull from him all night. He lets out a soft moan, almost a whimper if you think hard enough about it, and it ignites a brand new fire in you as you take him in inch by inch. Feeling the searing stretch offer a bit of pain despite the sheer amount of wet you have collected between your legs.

He can feel you clench around him in the attempt to adjust, and your legs shaking only offer even more in terms of pleasure as you envelope him entirely with your heat. He can’t help but moan, almost unable to keep up his dominant persona with a pussy so sweet wrapped around him. God, he loves blind dates, honestly.

“Mhm,” he hums, rubbing both of his hands now against your thighs as you sit yourself flush against him and wait to adjust to his size, “I definitely like you.”

You fall forward with a small laugh, the irony of the situation a bit too much on top of your mind falling helplessly and embarrassingly fast at how lucky you are to have a mother to set you up with such a man.

He’s a bit soft at this moment, wrapping both arms around your waist and listening to your breathless laughs against his neck. Loving the way each inhaled chuckle forces your body to squeeze his cock delightfully tight.

God, You’re pretty, and so fucking annoying. Just his type.

“I’m still going to fuck you senseless though.” he finally says, feeling your body still at his words as you lift a bit, just to slide back down on him.

“Is that a promise?” You ask weakly, pretending that he didn’t already manage to do it with his hands alone.

He nods, the softness in his eyes disappearing instantly when he feels the drag of your cunt hug his length. He doesn’t hold back his moaning for you this time though, and he shows no shame in slapping your ass, and guiding you even closer to his chest.

You stand on your knees a bit on top of him, watching his eyes zone in on your tits in his face. Hopefully, he’s going to keep that promise too.

His hips snap up harshly as his hands grope your ass and spread you apart. He snaps his hips again and again, nearly pulling his entire length out of you each time just to fill you up once again. Stretching you open and loosening you up, the pleasure of it hitting him right in the throat each time with small grunts against your nipple when you bounce at the movement.

You whimper out, the sounds still echoing throughout his house along with the sounds of your thighs slapping against his. His grunts are deeper, and all of the sounds together sound like a desperate soundtrack of what you’ve always wished sex was like. He fucks you good, despite your legs still shaking, and despite the pain of his teeth biting against your skin now.

You can’t help it when you fall forward again, hugging around his head as he starts to relentlessly fuck into you at a faster pace, the thrusts going from slow and deep to tight and pointed. His thick cock easily pressing against that same spot his fingers had been teasing earlier. You choke out at the feeling, legs jolting and causing you to sit again out of sensitivity.

He doesn’t falter at your failure to stay in position for him, and instead he gropes your ass harder, swirling your hips around him. You can feel how hard he is inside of you, splitting you open and pulsing at a near constant pace.

“Ride it,” he instructs, much like he did with his fingers and you follow suit, lifting just slightly and sliding back down again. “Harder,” he demands, pulling his head from your grasp and looking up at you with a wild smirk.

You look down at him, wondering how pitiful you must look up here. He appears to be loving it though, absolutely in love with the way you struggle to do what you swore you’d be able to.

Trying again, you begin to bounce on him and he grants you his fingers on your clit for that, moaning at your own choice of rhythm and leaning forward yet again to pop his presumed favorite nipple back into his mouth.

The ministrations of his fingers paired with his mouth sends you spiraling once again into a world of pleasure. The shaking in your legs become more of a driving factor than anything as you ride him better than you’ve ever ridden anyone.

Finally, he’s the one moaning out and trying to string together choked words of praise.

“Your grip is so tight,” he mutters out, kissing up your chest and to your neck, “i can fucking feel you dripping down my legs.” He adds in a moan, losing himself in the way you move your hands through his hair and scratch at the nape of his neck. He wants to ruin you so badly, and he’s already drenched in you. He wants more.

You knew you’d have him just as desperate as you by the end of the night. Now look at him, muttering out strings of curse words as you do nothing but ride and pet him. He’s melting under you, and you’ll be damned if he comes before you get that second orgasm.

Shooting your hand to your clit to replace his lazy movements, you work yourself up to your second orgasm and he just watches you, taking in the image of you practically riding him into oblivion until you’re clenching even tighter around him, throwing your head back and shooting your hands to his shoulders as you harshly roll your hips into his. You’re working yourself through it when he starts pumping into you again, short and tight thrusts pushing you through your orgasm until he’s gripping you equally as hard, holding you down on him as he spills out and into the condom in more of a purr than a moan.

You watch him, dazed out of your fucking mind as he bites against his bottom lip and slowly blinks through his orgasm as you. Part of you wishes he just did it raw, wanting so badly for him to make a mess of you like you did to him.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

You find yourself with him at your parent’s house just a week later, eating lunch in the chaotic mess of your mother’s kitchen. It’s funny, really, how he’s trying to be polite to her as if he’s not about to take you next door and probably fuck you against an open window just to blow his own cover.

“I told you he was a keeper,” your mother compliments him as she lays a plate of croissants on the table. “Just yesterday he offered to mow our lawn when we head off for vacation this weekend!”

She’s praising him much like you wouldn’t, and you kick him under the table for trying to suck up to her even more now that he’s fucked you several times already.

“Did he now?” You ask, glaring over at him and then smiling sweetly at your mother. “Guess he is kind of a keeper, maybe.”

His eyes shoot to you and he smiles around his bite of croissant at you.

“You were right though,” he counters you towards your mother, “she’s definitely a handful.”

Your mother crosses her arms as she leans against the counter, looking between the both of you.

“How many dates have you been on without telling me?” She asks, looking at you.

“A few…” If she considers it a date to meet up and fuck every other day this week.

“We had lunch a few days ago.” he adds, backing you up. It’s just that the lunch wasn’t exactly like–you know, at a restaurant, and if she knew that cum was on the menu, perhaps you both would be slapped shitless.

“So, are you guys going to be exclusive, or?”

Sunghoon looks at you curiously, and you look back at him.

“I dunno, it’s only been a week, Mom.”

She nods, clapping once before pushing off of the counter and leaving the kitchen.

It’s silent between you and Sunghoon for a few moments before he speaks up.

“I wouldn’t be against it.”

“Against what?” You ask, looking at him with a raised brow.

“You know, like, dating. I can’t imagine anyone actually putting up with you besides me, anyway.”

You kick him again from under the table, causing him to wince out in pain before glaring at you. You smile in return though, giving him a shrug and now rubbing your foot against the bruise you probably just caused.

“I find myself agreeing with that statement,” You laugh thinking hard about your next words. “But for some reason, agreeing with you pisses me off more.”

Sunghoon nods, smiling through the pain of the bruise forming on his shin.

“Good thing I know how to fix that, huh?” He finishes the conversation, fully aware that he knows how to shut you up and make you love it.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

#enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #enha smut

2K notes · View notes

dadsbongos · 8 months

Text

then, and again, and once more

6.9k words

Summary - Yuuji tries to impress you and win your heart, with the help of Sukuna… who seems weirdly knowledgeable about and interested in you.

Warnings - p in v sex, FULL NELSON BABY!!!, yuuji eats pussy :), oh yeah fem reader btw, sukuna is here too (and his cannibalism is mentioned), idiot friends pining for each other, very vague timeline idk but yuuji is aged up

sukuna-centric part 2

There it is again.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

That unbearable thick bass in his chest, banging so tirelessly against his ribs that it threatens to make him nauseous. A quick inhale and yep - scratch that - he’s definitely already nauseous.

Yuuji sinks his sweaty palms deeper into his pants pockets, eyes darting sharply down to his beaten sneakers. The once vibrant ruby shade is now marred by dirt and aging threads - and if he turns his right foot just so, then he can see an old, blackened stain from pizza sauce he spilled while eating out with you. The memory, or more specifically how you’re giggling in his memory, makes him smile.

And in the real world, Megumi is watching his friend grin ear to ear while looking at a black, crusty splotch on the inside curve of his right shoe. After having just wide-eyed stared at you from across the room while you and Nobara heatedly debate where to go for dinner.

He glares at Yuuji, lashes narrowing, “You look insane. Knock it off.”

That snaps the boy from his reminiscing, and it takes him three long seconds before he registers the insult, “I was thinking!”

“Obviously,” Megumi scratches the side of his nose, more to just have something to do with his hands than anything else, “What were you thinking about?”

Humming quietly to himself, Yuuji shrugs, “Oh, the usual.”

“You’re hopeless,” Megumi maintains his efforts to keep his hands busy by scratching the back of his head, “Just tell her already. What’s the worst that happens?”

“She rejects me and avoids me,” Yuuji pouts, “Honestly, ‘gumi, I would’ve thought you’d be more sympathetic - being a standoffish and awkward guy yourself.”

Swatting at his friend’s shoulder, Megumi shakes his head, “The hell is wrong with you? Was that just sitting in your mind?” he shakes his head again, glare growing stronger, “And don’t call me that.”

“I thought you had anxiety or something,” Yuuji shrugs, “Why else would you be so weird in public?”

Any previous concern regarding Yuuji’s well-being immediately flies from Megumi at that. He folds his arms across his chest with murmurs of hatred floating out from his lips. All as he waltzes over to where you and Nobara are seated around your laptop at the chipping hardwood table.

Yuuji has no problem shrugging off Megumi's irritation, but when it comes to the mere idea of your face stretching in disgust at him - God, isn’t that the worst?

“You’re the worst, brat,” comes that rumbling, terrible voice in the back of his head. The nagging used to sound more like him - and when he’s really stressed, it still sometimes does - but now his own voice has faded into the King of Curses’. Now his own voice is sweeter, more prone to praise and positives - in a weird way, Sukuna has made Yuuji better.

But in a lot more ways -

“Oi, don’t ignore me.”

He’s made Yuuji’s life so much worse.

“You like that one, right? I can help.”

You’re sitting back, allowing Megumi to take the reins on shooting down Nobara’s suggestion for sushi. Normally, that demand isn’t a problem, but this would be the fifth night in a row she’s tried roping you all into ordering sushi for her. You lean into Megumi a little, and Yuuji hates the way his chest tightens at the display.

It isn’t even affection. It’s just…

“You want to be the one she’s on, right?”

Yuuji sighs to himself and sneaks out of the kitchen, though it’s hardly a challenge when Nobara raises her voice to defend her long-lasting cravings.

With tense shoulders and a red face, Yuuji glances down each side of the hall to ensure nobody is nearby, “How could you help with this?”

Sukuna’s eye on Yuuji’s cheek has flitted up to stare into Yuuji’s, and that sickly crawl of his skin stretching to accommodate Sukuna’s wide grin makes his stomach turn, “You’re just a child, you don’t know anything about women.”

Yuuji could double over, hands on his knees and breathless in sputters of laughter, but he refrains - unwilling to let anyone hear his schizophrenic ramblings, “And you do?”

Sukuna’s eye rolls and Yuuji hates the way it feels under his cheekbone, nearly retching in response, “Of course.”

And that strings up some different terrible question in Yuuji, “But why would you help me?”

Sukuna has been so unwilling to do anything useful for Yuuji despite the fact he’s allowed to reside in this body - so what could possibly possess him to do this now?

“Do you want my help or not, worm?”

Yuuji sighs through his nose, eyes fluttering shut, thinking hard about the offer. He’d come to the conclusion not too long after swallowing his first finger to simply not question many of Sukuna’s motives, mostly since his goals are: chaos, women, and chaos.

“This better not be some gross pass at my friend,” Yuuji sneers, body electrified on the ready to smack down his own cheek should he hear an answer he doesn’t like.

Sukuna is too quiet for too long, and Yuuji is fully prepared to swipe at the parasite on his face when finally, that deep voice rattles again. It buzzes in his flesh, uncomfortable and itchy and so quiet he barely hears what the curse mumbles into him.

The boy pauses and lets the words melt on his tongue, he turns them between his molars and laves the roof of his mouth with the remaining implications. He wasn’t expecting Sukuna to be honest, not to that degree at least.

And Yuuji smacks Sukuna’s bulbous eye down anyway.

“Fine then,” Yuuji pulls his hand down and curls his fingers into a fist, another great big awful ragged sigh roughing over his tongue like barbed wire, “I’ll listen to you, but if you ruin this for me- “

“Calm down, brat,” the mouth pops back up stubbornly, bitterly spitting out his version of a promise, “I don’t plan on failing.”

Yuuji pushes himself off the wall and spins back into the kitchen unnoticed, hands locking behind his head as he saddles up beside you at the table, “So, what’s for dinner?”

He snorts at how you groan, looking up at him from your seat with tired, low-lidded eyes and gesturing across the table to where Megumi and Nobara are still arguing, “You tell me.”

“Why don’t we just go out?” Yuuji shrugs, grinning broadly despite the way his two friends both twitch their necks over to glare at him, “Come on, it’s not even dark! We can walk around and do a little looking; get some air!”

Nobara’s pitched shoulders drop, pinched expression falling into her usual lax, she looks over at Megumi again with a raised brow. Megumi shrugs, his own eyebrows still scrunched together, “If it’s fine with you two, I don’t care.”

You snicker, standing up against the stiff wood supports of the chair legs, one elbow digging into the table to further help hold you up while your spare fingers dance up to smooth out the crinkled space, “I think it’ll be fun.”

Megumi snatches you by the wrist and tosses your hand to the side while Nobara hops down from her own chair, stretching out her back until it pops obnoxiously. She’s already bouncing out of the kitchen to snag her shoes before shouting back, “Well, come on! We’re on a timer now, people!”

“Jeez,” you slip off the chair pegs, bumping slightly into Yuuji’s side - entirely oblivious to the sparkly fireworks you sweep across your poor friend’s body at the contact, “Should’ve just suggested that from the start, huh?”

Shrugging, Yuuji waits for you to begin walking out of the kitchen before following, “Sometimes you just need fresh eyes on a situation, you know?”

“I guess,” you fold your arms, evidently frustrated, “Just feel like that was something I should’ve seen.”

Yuuji feels that disgusting, familiar thumping in his chest just by looking at you now. Heat radiating from his cheeks to the expanse of his chest, throat swelling with the uncomfortable need to spill his guts - dump every little thought and feeling he’s ever had for you into your ears until you force him to shut up. Like how he can’t even look at Jennifer Lawrence the way he used to simply because she isn’t you.

Maybe then he’d tell you that this hasn’t happened in the six years since he first saw Silver Linings Playbook. Maybe you’d tell him to stop talking, and that you two would never happen.

Maybe then he can move on, when you crush his hope. But he doesn’t really want that.

And he doesn’t really know why he agreed to let Sukuna lend him any advice.

Oh well.

It’s when you’re rushing out the door to keep up with Megumi and Nobara that Sukuna opens his mouth for the first time.

His voice stabs into Yuuji’s ears, but it isn’t exceptionally as cruel as he usually finds it, this, instead, is purely instructional, “When you two are out tonight, tell her about that cat you saw around the garden today.”

Yuuji scratches through his messily filed memories, “I saw a cat?”

“Yes, twit, a black one. Tell her about how its fur changed color in the sun.”

“Okay…?” Yuuji huffs in his daze, finally putting effort into walking alongside you and the others, “Hey! So, I just remembered something.”

“Oh yeah?” you smile at Yuuji, purely encouraging, and he’s disgusted at the way he almost trips over his own feet.

Nobara and Megumi pay the both of you little mind, instead pointing out different potential favorite hotspots they could creep into for the night. Well, Nobara points out, they could even stop at two places if they’re feeling adventurous. And Megumi says they can do whatever the rest of you think is best.

But Yuuji isn’t listening, and you’re hardly lending an ear, he swallows down the rock in his throat and nods, “I saw a cat this morning - a black one! - and it made me think of you,” the gentle warmth spreading through him could either be the way you’re lighting up at him, or Sukuna silently congratulating his good line, “Its fur was all brownish red in the sun, it was…” your eyes are so starry and sweet, solely on him - it makes his tongue tie up in knots, “It was beautiful.”

“Bummer I wasn’t there, then,” you pout a little, “You need to get me for things like that!” he laughs at the way your face has morphed, all stern and strict business, “Seriously!”

“Okay, okay,” he surrenders, both hands up in playful defense, “I promise to call you if I see another cat.”

“Could’ve at least taken a picture for me,” you histrionically sigh, “And I thought we were friends.”

A sudden thought invades the back of Yuuji’s mind. Some hidden, more primal part of his mind that he doesn’t usually listen to flashes back to a time he doesn’t remember.

We used to be more.

You and him are sitting out in the sun with a fluffy little Bombay cat tucked into your lap. It paws at the buttery dandelions that bloom between you both, his own legs are sprawled out impolitely and your own are crossed to wall around the feline in your hold. His knee knocks against yours whenever he shifts his leg. You lean in, shoulder digging into the meat of his muscled arm and temple resting on his shoulder.

Your body is entirely at ease. His is, too.

Yuuji knows exactly where the thought comes from. And if that dark, creepy place weren’t so infested by evil then maybe he’d feel a little pity for it. But you’re in front of him now, and you’re excited to be here, and your pinky keeps knocking into his as you two walk side-by-side - so there’s no room for pity in his heart.

Your quartet winds up squished into a teal leather booth towards a back corner of Nobara’s selected diner. You and Nobara sit on the interior seats, pressed into the windows, with Yuuji and Megumi caging the both of you in. Megumi having shoved Yuuji down next to you before the boy could even see who was where.

“What were you thinking?” Nobara sits up, jabbing your arm with a manicured finger just to annoy you.

Flicking at her hand, you shrug, focusing on the boards plastered behind the front bar counter for any eye-catching special offers.

Yuuji can feel the tightening of his cheek skin as the eyeball threatens to pop out, it stings when his cheek is forced to split for Sukuna’s eye. His cheek below that parts as well for his lips.

And Sukuna is kind enough this once to be quiet, “Tell her to get the wildfowl bowl,” as if sensing his arising questions, Sukuna continues, “And tell the kitchen worms to make sure the vegetables are soft. Not well, not sturdy,” he sounds disgusted as he says it, “Soft.”

“Hey,” and against everything he’s been told by Gojo, Yuuji puts his entire trust into the curse inside him, “that wildfowl bowl looks good, right?”

You lean closer to Yuuji, arm brushing his as you try to see where he spotted that, “What’s in it? Duck?”

He gives a conformational hum even though he has no idea, “Probably good with soft vegetables.”

Megumi shakes his head, “What does that even mean?”

“When they steam the veggies for longer than usual,” you pat Yuuji’s shoulder while defending him, “I get what you mean, Itadori. Sorry Fushiguro is so judgemental.”

“I was just saying…” Megumi’s voice flutters out of Yuuji’s focus.

Instead, another memory he never made begins to flourish from that black, mushy, rotted back of his brain.

You’re sat in his lap, large thighs perfectly bracketing around your own. A neglected bowl of slim slivers of perfectly browned duck meat sits atop cooling rice, carrots, and green beans. No doubt soft and easy to chew. In your hands is a steaming bowl, larger than the one in your lap, weighed down by thick cuts of juicy meat slabs. Almost like steak, but there’s no outer hide tanned by flame. It’s red, almost raw, and even after trimming the fat - it’s still bathed in pink, fleshy trails.

Grinning so lovingly, you pinch the slabs with your bare fingers and merely giggle when Sukuna’s sharp teeth prick at your skin. His long tongue works to clean your fingers of the excess meat juices as he eats. Two of his hands are on your hips, holding you steady, a third is steadied beside him against the cold bone of his throne, and a fourth resides at the back of your head. Almost big enough to palm the whole of your skull like a children’s ball - he pats and pets and smooths his fingers over the slope of the back of your neck.

Preening under gentle attention, you’re sure to empty Sukuna’s bowl before picking your own back up.

People watch with blood at their feet, none dare to move. Fearful to become the next hot meal in your hand should they disobey Sukuna’s silent command.

As your hands wrap around your cold bowl, a deep grunt reverberates behind you in Sukuna’s broad chest. He tugs the dish from your grasp; plucks the duck meat between his forefinger and thumb and holds it above your nose, forcing you to look up.

He waves it in front of your face, “Open,” and you follow his order, lips parting yet still pitched up in the impression of a pleased smile. And when he flattens the meat to your tongue and you begin chewing - you’re still smiling. That earns another fond stroke down the back of your head, pausing at your shoulder and digging his thumb into the muscle just to hear you sigh, “Good girl.”

Yuuji doesn’t see all of that. He can grasp some vague sense that you two have shared meals he’ll never get to taste, but he never sees the gristle left behind on your fingers or the saliva webbed between your fingers after feeding Sukuna.

That - Sukuna ‘hmph's proudly as he watches you beam at Yuuji over your modern interpretation of your favorite meal - the King of Curses keeps to himself. Selfishly, just as he always has.

That next morning, you sheepishly prattle into the dusty, creaky classroom with only four rusty, barely used desks and slip into the one by Yuuji. You’re toying with the tips of your hair, eyes bouncing from where Yuuji sits on the desktop beside you and the classroom door.

Nobara sits backward at the desk directly in front of you, arms coiled around the back support of her chair as she speaks and Megumi sits normally beside her - attention solely on his book. Yuuji watches you fiddle with the ends of your hair while pretending to listen to Nobara.

And then he sees it. The new cherry shade decorating your lips, and before Sukuna can sprout and tell him to - Yuuji’s leaning down with his best smile, “New lipstick?”

Jumping at the sudden voice, your rigid posture melts under the boy’s gaze, “Yes, actually. You like?”

It could be puke green and Yuuji would still want it smeared across his face from your kisses.

But despite housing Sukuna Ryomen and battling dreadful curses, Yuuji fails to muster the courage to say that to your face, “Yeah! It’s really pretty.”

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

There goes your annoying heart, hammering just from the sound of Yuuji’s overtly positive lilt. It makes your cheeks burn and fingers skittishly tip-tap against the pencil-scratched desk, “You think so?”

But he’d never lie, you know that.

So even though it shouldn’t be a surprise when he doubles down, your annoying heart won’t stop dramatically tossing itself around when Yuuji nods with a determined, boyish grin, “Definitely.”

It’s all so saccharine and perfect, it makes Sukuna nauseous. Which, in turn, makes Yuuji nauseous.

Face paling, Yuuji jumps onto his feet and excuses himself, rushing out of the room (with no Gojo even in sight, by the way) towards the bathroom.

“Is he okay?” Nobara murmurs, stretching her neck to see outside the door frame, “What a weirdo.”

“Yeah,” you sigh dreamily, “He is sometimes, huh?”

Megumi gags at your tone, “Seriously…?”

“What was that?” Yuuji’s question is spikey and venomous while he stares into the cracked, water-spotted mirror - straight at the little eyeball on his cheek.

“You two are disgusting,” Sukuna stares back into the glass, low-lidded and unimpressed, “Get this over with and ask her out, brat.”

“But what if she says no?” Yuuji reaches up and toys with the little pink hairs at the back of his head, eyes suddenly unable to meet Sukuna at all, “It’ll totally ruin everything.”

“Enough whining. She won’t say no.”

He doesn’t know how it took so long to recognize, or maybe he just needed an excuse to display his old, unbroken knowledge of you before your fleshly little weakling friends even knew it. But he’s seen the little bursts of color and stars and sparkles and all that cute mess before.

He’s seen it many times. It was the only way you used to look at Sukuna.

That puppyish, lovesick wonder as you fluttered your pretty eyelashes at him.

Even when he would return to you in blood and sweat and muck and smelling of the death and despair he expertly wrought.

You were always at least five paces ahead of Uraume, hands bunching up in the pretty flowing silks that decorated your body. Excitedly, you’d pounce and he would hold you. Sapping up your energy and feeding off the way you’d press cherry-tasting kisses all along his hardened face. You served yourself up to him on a silver platter, all your heart and soul and mind devoted entirely and without ulterior motives. That’s why you were always his favorite.

Nothing before or after you was ever up to par. And he felt disgruntled at every turn into different worshippers and concubines and lovers - somehow wronged simply by the fact they were not as you were. It was all so disappointing.

And every now and again he’d flash back to you while with others. He imagines it’s how children feel when they remember a lost or broken or tossed-out favorite toy. That ache of times lost and never feeling quite fulfilled again.

Which is why when he saw you again through this brat’s eyes, he could instantly remember those nights with you. Full-bellied and raw-lipped and your pulse between his teeth.

But Yuuji knows nothing of that, and so when he returns to the classroom - neither of you says anything.

It’s only the two of you. Everyone else was cast out in the violent, unwilling acceptance that they had done all they could. With no open wound, there was a horrific list rattled off in Sukuna’s ears. Illnesses and infections that attacked the lungs and nervous system and skin and heart - things that would eat you alive from the inside. And when all could be done about that, you remained in bed.

In and out of consciousness and delusional, proclaiming twisted lights and shadowy creatures trying to rip you from yourself.

Perhaps, one of the women called to care for you shyly spoke up, perhaps she’s just too old.

And that was something he avoided admitting to himself.

But it was time now.

With dew still moist on the blades of grass and morning sunlight streaming through the window beside your bed - the bell tolls. Your fingers are stiff in the sheets, limbs cold and stiff when you’re found. Wide, puppylike eyes gaze up at the ceiling and Sukuna has you buried beneath the tallest, most twisted tree he could find in the surrounding forest. And when Sukuna returns from your grave that night - alone - he crosses into a dark tunnel.

It’s cold and solid beneath his feet, paces echoing back for his ears. He keeps his eyes down to avoid maddening himself over the plainness - the displeasure of even glimpsing this tunnel’s repetitive nature.

Until there’s light, golden, with the shrouded, clumsy shape of twisted branches and lanky trunks coming into view at the far open end.

And faintly, like the sweet singing of a beloved music box, he hears the tune of your voice. A high scoop towards the end.

“Itadori, right?”

Sukuna’s feet move faster before he even fully knows he’s moving.

On the other side is you, a hand jammed out in front of you in a polite wave - as if the both of you are strangers. Then that name creeps back up his spine.

Well, it’s not truly his spine, is it? It’s this new brat’s.

But then there’s your honeyed voice again, “Huh, third eye.”

Right. You wouldn’t remember it, would you?

You wouldn’t remember any of it.

Yuuji shoots up, dark sheets tangled around his ankles and cold sweat beading down his forehead - strings of pink hair matted down to his skin uncomfortably. His wide eyes scramble across the shadows of his room, slowly refamiliarizing himself with the expanse and soothing his pounding heart.

He smoothes back his hair, running through the small kinks and knots, “What the hell was that?”

That slicing pain along his cheek shocks him awake further, but no sore, deep voice follows. The eye sits there, downcast. Sitting inside this body is one of the last things he saw for himself, but to exist beside you again is liquid gold just flowing in a river. A river his new body refuses to swim in.

“She’s still awake.”

Yuuji looks over to the red numbers lighting up from his bedside alarm clock, “It’s midnight.”

Sukuna inhales sharply, irritation scorching a hole in his tongue, but he withholds the many sudden hateful thoughts he has towards Yuuji and simply repeats himself, “She’s still awake.”

“It’s weird how obsessed you are with this,” Yuuji swings his legs over the edge of his bed and slips his feet into the slippers you’d gifted him. They’re cheesy and themed after fire engines and just barely fit, but he wears them at any given opportunity.

The eye sinks back into his skin, lips sealing shut, and a thick sludge boils in Yuuji’s stomach. Quiet King of Curses is an unsettling King of Curses, and Yuuji barely finds himself able to tune out the exhaustive wave of Sukuna’s criticisms. That is much preferred to this buzzing silence.

Creeping down the moaning wooden panels to your room, Yuuji raps his knuckles against your door before immediately shuffling his fists into his gray sweatpants.

Something clatters against hardwood, sheets ruffle, and your footsteps thump, thump, thump up to your bedroom door. Your face peeks out from the sliver of cracked doorway, and there’s no hint of sleep in your gaze. You seem alert, if a little lazily slouched against your doorframe.

“Itadori?”

Oh, right. He was here to say something, wasn’t he?

But he can’t possibly find the strength in his tongue, not when you look at him like that.

With some impossible adoration, like you simply can’t wait to hear whatever stupid bullshit he’s about to spout. He feels so unworthy of it all, and he can’t wait to find out more about you and mold himself to it. To become someone you can’t imagine waking up without. To study and be studied, he’s ready to throw himself into the horrors of being known - if it’s you he’s known by.

The air is punched out of him as he speaks, “Can…” you nod him along, opening your door wider, “Can I kiss you?”

Now that he’s so close to the sugary river, he can’t wait to dive in.

“Seriously?” you laugh in shock at the outburst, but when his face persists, you fling the door open entirely, “Seriously?”

Yuuji winds his hands tighter, to stop himself from desperately clawing his way down your throat, “I like you. I’ve liked you…” he’s unnatural like this, red in the face and dodging your stare, “I don’t even know.”

But you do, you felt it when you first saw him. However, you’re not plagued by the chains of past lives, so the implications are lost. Winding your arms behind your back and grinning at Yuuji with toothy glee, “Me too.”

His eyes nail you with that doughy, desperate plea for attention - the need to be seen as himself. And you’ve always been glad to lend it over in plentiful bounties.

That buzz of silence stabs the both of you.

Until Yuuji can no longer tether himself to his pockets, his big hands gentle as he cups both your cheeks. He molds himself to you, hoping that those troublesome flashes of times he never lived will at least serve his muscle memory now.

Your hands twist into the front of Yuuji’s shirt, nails biting into the black, soft, loose fabric and tugging him closer. Yuuji’s lips are slightly chapped, and you can feel the imprints from where he’s bitten them raw. He hisses when you peek your tongue at the smooth spots.

Wrenching your hands back, you quickly run them under and up his sleep shirt - his skin is warm and he gasps against your lips when your fingertips skim along his sides.

Yuuji pulls back, cheeks flaming, and shoulders his way past your bedroom door, kicking it shut behind him and placing his hands over his shirt - finding yours through the material. He grins, chuckling at how you grope his muscle, squeezing around your hands, “Enjoying yourself?”

“Whatever,” you huff, embarrassed, then ripping your hands out from under his shirt and twisting your fingers between his before - just to prove a point - planting his palms below your own shirt, “You try being normal like this.”

Yuuji’s broad palms are still only burning into the soft flesh of your stomach, but his heart is terribly out of whack.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

“You can go higher,” your voice lilts higher, a mere soft whisper as if anything louder could entirely break the poor boy’s brain, “If you want…”

Of course, he does. He’d trade a thousand years with that Sisyphus guy Megumi mentioned to him just for twelve seconds of his hands sizzling up your body. Maybe even just for the chance.

His hands scope higher, palms glued to the planes of your body like he’s trying to scar himself along your skin. The sudden need to leave some lasting impression that he was there - here with you.

Yuuji does his best not to jump when Sukuna’s voice slithers into his ear, polite enough to whisper so he doesn’t alarm you, “Get her on her back. Tongue her cunt.”

You look at him all sweet and concerned when Yuuji’s nose scrunches, “Are you okay? Is something wrong?”

But he has no idea how to tell you that Sukuna’s words make his stomach churn, and by the time he even tries to form the words he’s thinking about it. Imagining himself on his stomach with his head between your thighs, your hands tangled in his hair, and eagerly trying to annoy your friends as much as possible with how loud he can make you. And he feels so, so lightheaded at that.

Yuuji’s eyes are wide, staring into yours with such fire that it almost makes you shy away, “Can I eat you out?”

But you brave his dissecting gaze, heart pounding in your ears.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

And, oh, Yuuji could just about die happy right now.

On his stomach with his head between your thighs, your hands screwed into the twirls of his tousled hair and (hopefully) annoying at least a nosy Nobara should she be listening to your soft moans next door.

Yuuji wiggles his tongue into your weeping hole, nestling his nose against your clit with a wheezy little whine. His eyes flutter up at you through the gaps between your shaking arms.

“Get your hands in there,” Sukuna’s voice is muffled against the thickness of your thigh, “Thumb her clit, don’t rely on your nose.”

Crinkling his brows, Yuuji has to bite back his remarks about how Sukuna could’ve told him that sooner. Snaking his right hand over your leg, Yuuji flattens his large hand against your lower stomach and pins your bucking hips. His thumb taking residence on your swollen clit, the bridge of his nose still saddled beneath it.

Your back arches, hips grinding down into Yuuji’s thumb and tongue. He’s messy with it - head shaking just to tease and feel the wetness of your pussy slip and slather across his chin. He tongue-fucks you in earnest, practically moaning into you as he grinds against the mattress. Swishing his thumb against your clit faster when he can feel you tighten around him, chasing the feeling of you cumming all over his face.

He can hear it despite his desperation - the way your breath hitches and throat cinches out a squeal. Your thighs squish around his head and Yuuji has to force his hips still lest he be submitted to the horrors of cumming in his pants.

And it isn’t even the fear of your reaction - no, he knows better than to think you’re capable of making him feel shame. It’s just-

“Yes,” Sukuna’s voice is husky, tongue lolling out along Yuuji’s cheek to lather up your juice, “Yes!”

Yuuji knows exactly who will be making fun of him instead. He smacks at the unwanted presence and takes it as pure luck when Sukuna actually stays down.

He works his tongue out of you slowly, letting you whine and huff the way off your high naturally before peeking up at you. He’s grinning, eyes wide and hands retreating to dig hungrily into the meat of your thighs.

“Hey, I wanna try something,” Yuuji’s shamelessness in licking at his soaked lips makes heat flush all the way to your forehead, “Just let me know if it’s too much, okay?”

You nod sheepishly, body jittery with the little bugs crawling beneath your sweltering skin. Yuuji bends to the sudden thought he’s sure has something to do with the curse inside him with a mysterious catalog on all things you.

Yuuji slips onto his back beside you, curled against the cold wall corning your bed with his feet flat against the mattress and legs bent. He uses the unnatural well of strength he’s harbored since birth to squeeze at the fat of your sides and lift you atop of him. He can feel the warmth of your cunt on his pelvis and it wracks him with a shiver, you whine helplessly when his right hand immediately welds to your slit. His index and ring fingers part your lips so his middle can swipe coyly over your clit.

“Hah,” you watch his ring finger abandon its post to join the rude teasing, “Yuuji…”

“I know,” Yuuji sucks his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes glued to where your wetness drips onto his skin, his hard cock peeking up between your legs, “I know, I’m sorry,” but he doesn’t sound very sorry. Especially when he’s continuing to tease you while pressing a kiss to your cheek, “Okay, serious now,” but he dips his fingers lower and prods at your hole, “Serious.”

You giggle, hot-faced, at his focused gaze, “Yuuji!”

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he spreads your lips again just to stare from over your shoulder, voice hoars when he finally speaks up, “Alright. Serious now.”

Reaching between your legs, Yuuji grabs hold of his cock - hissing at the contact - and is internally grateful when you raise your hips to meet his head. He presses his forehead against your shoulder when his tip pushes inside you. You feel the hot puffs of air he sends against your back as you continue lowering yourself. He whimpers, the hand at his base flying across your abdomen and gripping your breast. He squeezes and pinches and tries suffocating the embarrassing little noises escaping his lips when you rock your hips down on his pelvis.

“Okay down there?” you twist your head to look back at Yuuji and you’re so glad you did.

He’s flushed down to his chest and his lashes are kissing his cheeks to keep himself together, when he finally opens his eyes fully and looks up at you. His bottom lip is red and puffy from how hard he’d been biting it, “Now I’m gonna do something new.”

This wasn’t new?

Yuuji’s arms stretch under the backs of your knees and come over your shoulders before winding behind your neck, pressing his palms flat against the back of your head. Your arms dangle uselessly at your sides, hands stretching out to graze his ribs and legs bouncing limply as he manhandles you.

His cock bullies itself in your cunt, hips jerking up into the fat of your ass.

Yuuji tries to suffocate down his groans in favor of your sweet moans being punched up from your gut every time he sweeps deep inside you. His lips press tightly just as your own pop open for adorable “ah, ah ah!”s - fighting to maintain his pace despite how badly he wants to pin you to his body and wallow through the wetness sucking him back in for every thrust. Feel your sweaty skin slide and stick against his and whine at the pulling sensation when you peel apart.

Another sudden idea pops into his brain and it’s almost instinctual how he follows it. Besides, it isn’t like he’s going to complain about being brain-blasted with memories that aren’t his if it means not having to hear Sukuna’s voice while fucking you.

Hips never falter in their snaps up into you, Yuuji cranes his neck to teeth at the meat of your nape. He bites possessively and grunts in response to your immediate pitchy moan. Then licking over the marks apologetically.

You try to smother down your breathless moans as Yuuji bullies his cock repeatedly into that spongy spot shooting stars behind your eyes. With an angle and drive and care you’re sure would be lost on any man other than Yuuji - and you’re dumbly struck by the hope that maybe this hard work is only because he’s here with you. And that coherent thought is fucked out of you with Yuuji’s next whimpered request.

“Don’t do that,” he gasps when you tighten around him after a particularly rough thrust, “Please don’t keep it down- wanna…” he moans and the sound flutters straight to your tightening gut, “Wanna hear you so bad, pretty girl.”

Unlatching your teeth from the plush of your bottom lip, flames lap through the wiry twists of your veins - burning through the stretch of your skin and scarring Yuuji. And he eats it up and greedily begs at your feet for more. It shames Sukuna just as much as it excites him to taste the salt on your skin through his vessel’s tongue and watch the way your legs shake and bounce under his vessel’s iron hold. His favorite way to have you and your favorite way to take him.

Yuuji unwinds one of his arms from behind your neck, lowering half your body slightly to swipe his fingers between the junction of your thighs. Right over the slippery spot where you’re creaming on his cock and taking the soaked fingers to your clit. His canines and soft lips battle for a monopoly of your neck and shoulder, swiftly circling your clit with his middle and ring fingers as his hips continue fucking you stubbornly.

“Hng, Yuu…!” you gasp, head throwing back and narrowly missing his - the coil winding tighter and tighter and your walls milking Yuuji tighter and tighter, “Yuuji!”

“I know, baby,” he kisses up your bent neck and presses his flaming cheek against yours, “God, please, cum for me. Cum for me,” his hips stutter, and his breath hitches and oh, he’s so close, “I wanna feel you cum on me, baby- I need it. Need it so bad.”

“Oh, Yuuji,” you dig your face closer to his as if trying to meld yourselves into one body, “‘m cumming,” you clench and he’s damn near wheezing, the knot in his lower belly popping as he feels you cum and drips down his balls, “‘m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming…!”

And just to avoid embarrassing himself from admitting he’s in love with you while spitting his own cum in your warm, wet walls, Yuuji strangles down his own final cries with a coppery, abusive bite to his bottom lip.

It starts to hurt, how he overstimulates himself through his slowing thrusts - letting you slip down onto his thrumming, sticky chest. Your legs sprawled across his sides, Yuuji slipping his softening cock from your hole.

You lazily roll off of Yuuji, landing face-first into your sheets at his side.

Yuuji can hear it again, that terrible, grating voice telling him, “Clean her, brat.”

And what’s the most terrible is he knows Sukuna’s command is entirely warranted. Flopping a hand onto your back, Yuuji traces heart shapes into the skin as he talks, “I’ll be right back.”

And when Yuuji’s wetting a soft, clean cloth he braved the hallway (nude) to retrieve from his room, he hears that voice again. It echoes in your bathroom.

“I want a turn when she’s awake,” a pause, “Fully awake.”

“Aren’t you charitable?” Yuuji rolls his eyes.

And that same utterance from hours before rings through Yuuji’s ears once again. Why Sukuna cared so much about petty crushes. Why Sukuna bothered himself by actually giving genuine, helpful points. Why Sukuna was fascinated by you.

“She was my most devoted and favorite lover in her past life.”

The way he says it inspires no respect for Yuuji - underlined in his thriving desire to be worshiped, as he imagines he deserves. Yuuji wouldn’t dare uphold you to that.

When he tenderly presses his thumbs into stiff muscles with a red flush and warm smile, Yuuji knows that for sure.

“Can I stay the night?” he whispers, folding his discarded towels and lazily tucking them by your bedpost on the floor. He feels that same hurried ache in his chest, awaiting for your impatience.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

You hum, lifting your head off the pillow and snickering, your drowsy face pinched to look at him like he’s stupid, “Duh.”

Giddy, Yuuji slips under the blankets he’d slid over you after cleaning the mess from between your thighs, and slots himself right next to you.

Rolling again, you twist into an open space against Yuuji’s chest and under his thick arm. Warmth drapes across your shoulders when he rests that arm over you. He circles his other arm around you and squeezes, grinning so hard he can feel it burning in the balls of his cheeks. Your ear rests against Yuuji’s chest, and you soothe yourself to slumber on the rhythm of his heartbeat.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

Blissfully unaware of the fact that when your bones are rotten and six feet deep, two more people will be curled into each other’s arms. With your same starry eyes that some pink-haired kid falls in love with every time they’re on him.

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #yuuji x reader #yuuji smut #yuuji fluff #yuji x reader #yuji itadori #yuji itadori x reader #yuji itadori smut #yuji itadori fluff #and sukuna too i guess

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cherryredstars · 2 months

Text

Pairing: Badboy!Miguel O’Hara x Goodgirl!Reader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Fluff, Nervous Miguel, Penetrative Sex, Car Sex, Mentions of Jerking Off, Praise

Summary: Milkshakes and shaking cars

A/N: It has been long awaited… Part 2!!

Word Count: 3K (Barely Edited)

Part 1

Shit, maybe he fucked up.

His heart is practically racing as he pulls into your driveway, your pretty little smile turning towards him promising to only take a minute. He throws a weak smirk your way, watching the sway of your skirt as you run up the drive and through the front door. The second it closes, his smile drops and he’s tearing up his car. The stickiness in his boxers is starting to be uncomfortable, and he pops open the glove department, rummaging around until he finds old paper napkins. He looks up and around, checking all his blind spots, before wincing and pushing his legs up, hurriedly unzipping his pants and stuffing the napkins past the waistband of his boxers. They come back with random dark patches from the crinkled rush, and he cringes as he looks around his front seat. Fuck! He really doesn’t think things through!

His head is on a swivel as he tries to find a place to put the soiled napkins, eventually popping open the coin holder on the left side of the steering wheel and shoving them in there. It takes a few slams and rapid stuffing to get it to close, and Miguel lets out a deep sigh as he readjusts himself in his seat. His eyes turn to the rearview mirror, his hand rapidly coming up to face it towards him as best as he can. His red eyes stare back at him, and he leans further back, turning his head either way to get a look at his hair. He curses when he sees its disheveled state. He looks like a fucking clown. Fuck him and his need to defend a pretty girl’s honor and then fuck her stupid after. He runs both his hands through his hair, ruffling it up and then smoothing it down again into its perfectly styled look.

Movement in his peripheral makes him look past his rearview mirror, his eyes focusing on the good little thing walking down her front door steps and towards his car. He can’t help himself when he lets out a low groan, shifting in his seat as he takes in an eyeful. She’s going to be the death of him, with her innocent little smile and her pretty little dress. All for him. God, what did he do to get so fucking lucky. When you make it to the hood of his car, you give him a bashful smile, eyes going to the ground as you round the car and get into the passenger seat. You fix the dress over yourself once you sit down, trying your best to look pretty and proper. His eyes fall to your legs, the sticky trail that was there before gone. While he’s slightly disappointed the mark he has on you is gone, he’s more than happy to do it again when the time is right. His eyes come back up to your face, your doe eyes blinking up at him. He can’t help the slow smile that comes across his face, his hand grabbing one of yours off your lap and bringing it up to his mouth.

Your hand is warm as he presses his lips to your knuckle, the sweet scent of vanilla drifting into his senses. A fire lights your cheeks as you watch him, and Miguel smirks against your skin despite the fluttering in his stomach. He clears his throat as he leans back up, hands returning to the wheel as he begins pulling out of your driveway. Once he’s made it to the main road, one of his hands comes back to your hand, lacing your fingers together.

“How do you feel about milkshakes?”

___________

It’s not really busy.

A cute, obviously family-owned place. It’s made to look retro, something he hopes you appreciate. It’s a decent diner, somewhere nice to hangout and get cheap food. A classic date spot. Maybe a bit too classic or unspecial. Maybe the wrong place to take someone like you. Maybe he fucked up. His hands tighten around the steering wheel, prepared to take you somewhere else when you squeal. His eyes cut to you, and his breath leaves him the moment he catches sight of your wide smile and glistening eyes. You’re rambling on about how cute the place looks, saying something about how happy you are that you chose a dress that is on theme with the small diner’s color scheme. He just can’t help it. Miguel leans over the center console and reaches out his hand to rest under your chin, your head turns away from the windshield and you let out the cutest squeak the second his lips press against yours.

When he pulls away, he’s met with your dopey eyes. He smiles down at you, his thumb rubbing at your bottom lip before he leans further away and pulls his keys from the ignition. You’re still giving him those pretty doe eyes when he opens his car door, throwing a lazy smile your way. You’re jolted out of your haze when he closes the door, blinking rapidly to clear the glaze covering your eyes. Your head turns rapidly at the sound of your door opening, finding Miguel holding the edge of the door with a single hand as he rests his other arm against the roof of the car. He’s bent down, smirking at you still. “You coming, princesa?”

That familiar blush still colors your cheeks and you nod shyly, watching as Miguel moves over to make room for your exit. You step out quickly, looking up at him once you’ve fully exited the car. Miguel smiles down at you, moving a strand of hair behind your ear before looking past you and closing the car door. His arm comes around the back of your neck, hanging on your shoulders and keeping you to his side. The smell of him surrounds you, causing you to go slightly dizzy. He always smells good, but mixed into his usual cologne is the smell of sex, making your cheeks darken and for you to face away from him. He catches the movement from the corner of his eye, chuckling as he squeezes you tighter against his side and placing a small kiss to the top of your head. He swears he could feel the exact moment your knees buckled before you get ahold of yourself.

Once you step inside the small place, the light ringing of a silver bell greets the two of you. The place smells strongly of coffee and ice cream, a pleasant combination. He can feel the way your head moves as you take in the interior, focusing on the vintage-like posters decorating the walls as he leads you towards a corner booth. He lets you slide in first, following right after you and practically smashing you against the wall and his side. His arm finds its place over the top of your seat again, resting comfortable over the even-leveled top of the booth seat. A waitress comes up soon after, an older woman in the classic waitress outfit. You give her a kind smile, and Miguel takes one of the menus she offers, giving it to you to browse over. With a promise to come back in a bit, the waitress leaves the two of you.

Miguel just sits and stares, his hand playing with a strand of your hair as you look over the menu. It’s silent between the two of you, not that he minds. He likes studying your face as you contemplate what you want, watching as you bite your bottom lip or your fingers come to play with it. Every now and then you ask him his opinion on some of the things on the menu, causing Miguel to lean in and speak against your ear like he’s telling a secret. It’s obvious that you don’t really listen to what he’s telling you, he can see it on your face as it heats up and your eyes glaze over. He finds it cute, reminding him to go back to his usual teasing. Eventually, you decide to stick to a simple milkshake and a serving of fries and Miguel calls over the waitress to give her the two orders and the menu.

It won’t take long for the order to come to the table, so Miguel entertains you through simple conversation. He comments on your dress, showering you in compliments that eventually has you burying your head into his side out of embarrassment. Miguel chuckles at your natural cuteness, his arm coming down from the top of the booth and wrapping around your shoulders so he can place a kiss to your head once again. By the time the blush on your cheeks has died down, the waitress comes back with two milkshakes and a basket of fries. She leaves the two of you with a smile, promising to be nearby if the two of you need anything. You’re obviously thankful for the cold treat, taking a sip of it in hopes of cooling you down more. Miguel smiles as he watches you, ignoring the way his cock stirs as your throat bobs with every quick swallow. Miguel clears his throat once again, turning to his own milkshake and taking sips from it. He starts up conversation again, something more tame that won’t make your cheeks heat up. He enjoys the small giggles you let out as he talks to you, laughing along when you can’t eat a fry in fear that you’ll choke on it from all your giggling. It’s nice and calm, almost distracts him entirely from the hard on he’s sporting because anything you do is insanely hot to him. But then, you’re cutting him off mid-sentence as you swipe your thumb over his bottom lip, a drop of his milkshake on your finger that disappears as you hesitantly look up at him and lick at it. Yup, the death of him.

Miguel curses, looking away from you and fishing in his back pocket for his wallet. He pulls it out quickly, slapping two 20s on the table before getting out of the booth. You’re staring at him with wide eyes, yelping when he grabs your hand and drags you with him towards the door. You let out a stuttering protest that falls on deaf ears, the sound of the silver bell ringing behind you as the door closes. In seconds, Miguel brings the both of you to his car, pining you to the side of it as he smashes his lips against yours. His hands hold tight to your waist as yours clutch his shoulders. A small whimper leaves you as his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, and he groans the second your mouth opens. You taste sweet, like whipped cream and ice cream and a bit of salt. Fuck, isn’t it just addicting. Miguel pulls away from you once he starts going light-headed, his eyes still drawn to your lips as you take deep breaths.

“Get in the backseat, please.” Miguel mumbles, his hands tightening at your waist. You blink, not quite hearing what he said. Miguel groans, resting his forehead against your own as he tries to tame his raging hormones. He repeats it, just loud enough for you to hear, sighing in relief when you nod your head slowly and he hears the slight click of the door handle. He follows after you, sitting in the center seat before pulling you into his lap. You let out another yelp, your legs spreading to fit on either side of his lap. The noise you make when his lips meet yours again is calmer, more expectant as your hands go to his hair. He moans against your lips as you tug slightly, pulling him closer to you and making him curse. When he pulls away, his face goes to your neck, his own hands going to your hair to pull your head back to give him more access.

“Miguel!” You call out when he sucks slightly on the column of your throat, “D-did I do something? What-” You’re cut off by your own gasp as Miguel bites lightly at the junction between your shoulder and neck, soothing it over with a few licks.

“Yes?”, he mumbles against your skin, his fingers moving the straps of your dress down your shoulders, leaving them hanging against your upper arm, allowing him more room to kiss your soft skin. “No?” He retraces his steps back up your neck, coming face to face with you again. “Does it matter?”

You open your mouth to respond, but you’re cut off again by Miguel’s lips. Your eyes flutter closed, moaning against him. Miguel hisses when your body shifts, rubbing against the front of his jeans. He pulls away from the kiss, his hand cradling your head as he slowly begins to lean you back. Your hands slide down to his shoulders, letting him guide you until your back hits the center console. It’s slightly uncomfortable, but you quickly forget about it the second Miguel lifts up the bottom of your dress and starts kissing the exposed skin of your stomach. A soft noise leaves you as his slightly cold lips glide over your skin, causing you to squirm slightly. Miguel drinks up those sweet noises, his hand going to the zipper of his pants, dragging it down until he’s able to free his aching cock. His kisses go further down your body as he gives himself slow tugs, groaning the second his mouth is pressed against the growing damp spot in your panties.

They’re a different pair from the ones you had on earlier, but just as easy to move to the side as he leans back. You whimper once you feel the air against your wet folds, cheeks blushing as you're exposed to him again. Your cunt is still puffy from what he has done to you earlier, but all signs of his seed are gone. He’ll just have to fix that. His eyes come up to you, studying the way you bite your lip in anticipation, eyes cloudy with need. “You’re going to be the death of me, y’know that, pretty girl?”

You reply with a moan, head leaning forward as Miguel begins to push into you. You’re already so fucking wet, walls eagerly tightening around him, welcoming him home. Miguel lets out a curse the second he bottoms out, a wet click sounding. Miguel’s hands come up to your waist, your dress bunching around his fingers as he begins to pull you back off and on his dick. He can get drunk on the wet noises that greet his ears the second he slides in and out of your slick walls. Only second to the pleading tone of your voice as you beg him to go faster.

Miguel can’t deny his sweet little baby anything, moving his hips faster. You both moan out, breathy little squeals leaving your mouth as Miguel throws his head back against the seat. He can hear the car groaning slightly as it begins to shake, and Miguel grits his teeth when he feels your walls fluttering. “Fuck, that’s it. Good girl, taking it so well, yeah?”

You babble something back, nodding your head along to him as he thrusts into you. His hand comes down to your clit, watching the way you thrash and your legs kick out. Miguel can’t help but smirk, watching the way your legs shake at a few rubs. “Oh baby, don’t tell me you’re still sensitive, my sweet girl.”

You only whimper, back arching off the console as the similar burning sensation begins to form in your stomach. Your hips begin moving, grinding against his lap as he feeds your greedy cunt more of his cock. Miguel moans out, mouth dropping open as his lashes flutter. He presses harder against your bud, giving it a few rough flicks before you cry out and your body collapses back onto the console. He’s hypnotized as he watches you convulse around his cock, your walls pulsating rapidly against him. He fucks you through your orgasm, cursing as you milk him for all he’s worth. “Fuck, yes. So goddamn tight for me, baby. Got me addicted to you.”

You moan out his name, your hands grabbing at the seats on their side of your body. You try to pull yourself off of him, sensitivity prickling your bones. Miguel is quick to see it, his hands reaching up to pull your hands up and into him, forcing the rest of your body to come and fall against his chest. You cry out at the new angle, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Miguel grunts, hands returning to your waist and rubbing soothing circles through your dress.

“Sh, sh, come back to me sweet girl,” Miguel coos at you as your walls clench around him again, signaling the approach of a second orgasm. You pant heavily, whimpering as you loll your head forward, resting it against Miguel’s. Miguel gives you a breathless smile, his hold tightening on your waist. “Good girl, there she is. Knew that you could do it.”

You whine at the praise, eyes fluttering closed slowly. Miguel tilts his head up, moaning the moment your lips instantly start moving with his. His hips thrust into you faster, drowning out your moans. Miguel’s brows furrow, ignoring the car’s loud squeaking. He’s so close, can fill it about to explode. He pulls his mouth away from yours, one of his hands coming up to pull your hair away from your face. Your eyes are glassy as you stare at him, lips swollen and covered in spit. You look like a fucking goddess.

“Miguel, please.” Sound just like one, too

“Fuck, okay. Okay, I got you, just…fuck” Miguel groans out, jackhammering into you desperately.

You squeal, arms coming to wrap around his neck before you pull him into a kiss. Miguel’s eyes shut tight as his thrusts get sloppy, whimpering against your lips as the rope inside his stomach snaps. You whine against his lips as warmth fills you, squirming in his lap even as he’s stopped thrusting. You both pull away, Miguel resting his head on your shoulder as he breathes deeply. He places a delicate kiss to your skin, his hand rubbing you back to help you calm down. Eventually you pull away, a shy smile on your face. Miguel smiles back at you, watching as you look around. “The windows are foggy.”

Miguel chuckles, pressing a firm kiss to your forehead.

“Date me?”

@opalwitchart @peachey-pie @9rfa

1K notes · View notes

tteokdoroki · 5 months

Text

VOICEMAILS AND DIAL TONES - yuuta okkotsu.

✩ — about. “back then, you didn’t have words to describe the way that he made you feel. maybe, you were a little too young to understand.” there are rules to a friendship that’s lasted as long as yours and yuuta’s has. the first being that you tell each other everything. the second, try not to fall in love. all you know, is that you’ve failed at both, and now your best friend is half way across the world without any idea as to how much you truly love him. is that something you can say over text or voicemail? ( 8.7K )

✩ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! nsfw, smut, fluff, angst, with a happy ending - video banner! characters are in their 20s. coffee-shop!au, childhood friends to lovers, forbidden romance, long-distance, misunderstandings, miscommunication, situationships, arguments, hospitalisation mentions, death mentions (non-major characters), cucking, somnophilia, praise, fingering (f!receiving), oral sex (f!receiving), phone sex-ish, clothed sex, unprotected sex, overstimulation, creampies, fem!reader.

✩ — things to note. hi everyone!! jumping on the yuuta hype and dropping this fic i wrote as a commission last year!! it's so interesting to see how much my writing has changed, but i remember having fun when writng this. either who!! i hope you all enjoy <3 - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

absence makes the heart grow fonder — at least that’s what they tell you so that the feeling of missing someone hurts a tiny little bit less.

you’ve always wondered if that were true. if willingly putting space between yourself and the person you loved truly helped soothe the soreness as if it were medication for the body’s aches and pains. perhaps the theory could best be applied to your friendship with yuuta okkotsu.

he’s been your best friend for as long as you can remember — from the moment he moved in next door, his bambi eyes were big and brown, safe and inviting…who were you to keep hiding behind your mothers leg and deny him an invitation to play on the swing set his parents had put up for him in the garden just over the fence? yuuta was the sweetest boy to date, he was always polite with your parents and asked their permission before taking you into the depths of his cardboard fort in the front yard.

he would walk home with you from pre-k, your chubby little fingers tightly intertwined and the matching charms on your backpacks swinging about the place jingling with every step you took towards home. when you got to middle school and kids were meaner, yuuta stood by your side while you were teased for being quieter than most. he defended you, his shy, patient best friend.

okkotsu still walked you home, his pinky finger hooked over yours — greeted your mother with that same shy, yet charming tight lipped smile and offered to help her with cooking dinner with that same airy voice of his. your mother would reward you both with a kiss to the forehead and a plate of warm walnut and chocolate chip cookies and your pinkies — still linked underneath the table.

you were always linked. it’s always been yuuta and you. back then, you didn’t have words to describe the way that he made you feel. maybe, you were a little too young to understand the butterflies in your tummy and the blistering temperature to the back of your neck and your ears — maybe too naive to understand a metaphorical doctor’s diagnosis of a case of early on-set puppy-love. knowing back then would’ve explained why you wrote yuuta’s name on a heart alongside your own or why you squirmed every time you touched.

there was only one explanation. you liked yuuta, loved him.

you wished that you’d known what that feeling was…because it's soon ripped from your grip and your whole world changes when rika orimoto enters your lives. she was pretty, had a beauty mark smeared daintily across her cheek and gentle eyes that made you feel safe. she was pretty and yuuta thought that too — inside and out. that’s why they became fast highschool sweethearts and why you were left in the dust.

rika easily made a mess of him, tearing yuuta into a million tiny pieces that only she could put back together. she asks him out on white-day, okkotsu a bumbling mess by the lockers in between gym class and economics as he clutches her neatly written love letter — hearts over the I’s and T’s crossed ever so cutely. she had done to yuuta what he’d been doing to you all of your lives and you’d hardly seen her talk to him around school until that day.

much to your dismay, they date throughout the rest of highschool and it nearly kills you, having someone that you were once so close to fade-away into near nothingness with growing distance. life where yuuta has a girlfriend ( that isn’t you ) drains the happiness that you got from being around your childhood best friend. it’s selfish, you know, to have wanted to keep him all to yourself. to have him want you instead of her.

they make plans for after school, babies with names that start with the same letters as theirs and a wedding that’ll be small and flowery and whatever rika wants because yuuta okkotsu would give the girl he loves the entire world. you so badly want to be her. that person who is the centre of his universe. it should be you, it should have always been you — making plans with yuuta and imagining the perfect ring, the one that he would give you in the front yard of his childhood home. it should be your life with him, one that you’d dreamt up with him…and the sick thing is, you can’t have him — because you’re best friends and you’d be risking it all in the name of childish love.

rika, dies just days shy of your highschool graduation and it changes your best friend. a tragic car accident violently takes her life and okkotsu along with it. he’s a shell of the person he used to be, void of his dazzling smile and the comforting warmth that was unavoidable if you spent even just a minute with him. yuuta used to be like sun rays on a sunday morning but after the incident, he felt like blizzards on a dark november's eve. he lost his love, and you were starting to lose him even more than before.

his first love is memorialised at the graduation ceremony and while everyone sends her their thoughts and prayers — you feel sick to your stomach, knowing that for a brief second you’d felt relieved that your competition was gone. loving him was forbidden, he’d just lost his person and so despite your guilt you had to stick it out. be there for him. be there for your friend above all else and hold him up so that he didn’t sink in the deep water of his own grief. you’d save him, at all costs, you’d stop him before he drowned.

things start to look up when the pair of you head to college — you both get into the same school and find the cutest little off-campus apartment to share. it feels like a home away from home to you both, since your nights before semester begins are spent attempting to master your mother’s famous cookies while practising how to introduce yourselves since you’re both nervous as hell for this new beginning. everything feels like it was when you were both children and didn’t have a single thing to worry about — except now there’s crippling student debt and a four year workload ahead of you…but you’re both excited, together again and it seems like the distance between you has shrunk just a little.

then your love life takes a turn for the worst ( yet again ) and yuuta finds himself running around town with a new crew of friends that he met in a club run by one of your elective professors, satoru gojo. they stay out later than you’re used to and your best friend comes home smelling different too, of strong perfumes and cigarette butts even though you know he doesn’t smoke. as it turns out, there’s another girl.

maki zenin.

you don’t like her, and to be fair, she doesn’t like you either. so you keep your distance once more, keep your head down when maki does her faux walk of shame out of your best friend’s room — her thighs and her neck covered in bite marks and scratches, his shirt slipped over her body to cover the rest of her decency. he made her breakfast with your food and tea in your designated mug. it hurts to hear her mewl the sweet syllables of his name late at night while you’re stuck with the soundtrack to your own sobs.

it should be like this, distant — far apart because you care about okkotsu and you love him, so it’d be better to avoid it all rather than get him hurt.

your phone ringing in the distance gently lulls you from your reminiscent thoughts and you scramble to pick it up before you end up with a missed call.

yuuta’s contact flashes across your screen, framed by light and making him look like an angel. it rings and rings, and you know that you should let it go to voicemail. let the space between you grow so you can protect what’s left of his soul.

but you were never strong when it came to him.

and you pick up before he can listen to another second of dial tones.

voicemail #1 - “hey yuuta, i hope you’re good, you’ll never guess who stopped by the cafe today— professor satoru! i haven’t seen him since your graduation! anyways, are you still coming over for dinner tonight? i miss you!”

this isn’t like him.

even after all these years, from pre-k to college — yuuta okkotsu has never missed one of your calls. after graduating you'd made a promise to one another, to keep contact no matter where life took you, a promise of his own volition. you’d have dinner with each other at least once a week just like when you were kids and catch up on your not-so crazy adventures into adulthood.

you kept up your end of the bargain as your way of keeping okkotsu afloat — to ground him. he’d seen and been through enough hurt to last him a lifetime and if he had to use you as a crutch for comfort, despite your raging feelings for him, then so be it. so you never missed a call, always checked in and made him something nostalgic and tied to the memories of afternoons where your mother would fill you up with her wondrous baked goods or heartwarming soups.

but still, this isn’t like yuuta to not pick up when you call.

to feel…more distant than usual and of his own accord.

panic sets in while you listen to the third dial tone, trying to contact him again. taking a deep breath, you pace around the fridge-freezer in the back of your bakery — one that you’d set up shortly after graduating from your business degree. there had to be some explanation for your best friend’s absence. perhaps traffic? maybe he was on the subway catching a ride over? or maybe he just needed space. he’d been going through a lot recently. yuuta didn’t get a job straight out of college and he broke things off with maki shortly after — they wanted different things and had different aspirations.

even still, with the free time left on his hands, there was too much room for him to think about his losses and his loves…it made you worry for him, it made you panic and chew on your nails just like this. “c’mon yu,” you whisper to yourself, the shaky syllables of your words bouncing off the metal house for your ingredients, muffled by paper bags of powdered sugar and organic flours. “where are you?”

you can barely hear the automated message telling you to leave a voicemail for your friend over the bustling of your afternoon service. if yuuta hadn’t been off the grid, he’d be here helping you with the customers that know him all too well, the old ladies that pinch his cheeks and the younger ones that twirl their hair in an attempt to flirt over miniature cherry bakewell tarts. except he’s nowhere to be found, and you’re nauseous, worried sick about where he could be and what he could be up to.

you try his cell one more time in an attempt to grab at his attention. there's something weird about today...as if he’s avoiding you, hiding. yuuta always picks up and you always pick up for him, it’s an unspoken rule.

when you’re met with the dial tones again, you hang up — slumped and distraught. there’s hungry customers to feed and you’re overly friendly college professor waiting on a fresh box of sweets you’d used as an excuse to escape to the back of your shop. yuuta can wait for another call from you.

but you’re not sure if your heart can wait for one back from him.

voicemail #2 - “it’s yuuta, we need to talk.”

oddly enough, silence is comforting to you. it reminds you of your best friend, the nights you’d spend coupled up in your dorm with your fingers running through his silken midnight hair, his head in your lap and the both of you shrouded in darkness. more often than not, you could tell how one another’s days went just by body language and when shoulders were slumped and eyes were droopy — yourself and yuuta would curl up together and just…take in the quiet.

be close to one another.

so, you bask in the tranquillity of your quaint little cafe as you clear up after a day's work. you sweep floors, wipe tables clean and arrange the tables and chairs with perfect precision. the only sound that accompanies you is the clink of silverware and porcelain plates as you wash the dishes. it’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop and the slightest noise is enough to make you jump — just like your phone that vibrates deep within your back pocket, startling you as you scramble to dry your hands so you can see if it’s him who’s been trying to get in touch with you.

it’s embarrassing how quick you are to smile when you see a few missed calls and a voice message from yuuta. though you’ve never quite heard the tune of seriousness that plays in his voice before, your heart won’t stop racing at the mere sound of him speaking. your mind wonders…what could be so urgent that he’d need a ‘talk’?’

maybe it was a thank you…for always being beside him or maybe he even liked you. perhaps okkotsu had finally come to his senses and realised how much he’d always needed you…how much he loved you.. the racing thoughts in your brain hopefully jump towards a confession from your best friend and you find yourself getting giddy at its prospect. you practically skip, hop and jump to the back of your cafe, switching out your flour stained clothes for one of the spare and cleaner shirts you keep in the back — you touch up your makeup too, brighten the dark circles under your eyes and blot your worry lines with care.

you even manage to heat up a few of yuuta’s favourite pastries to serve up by candlelight — rehearsing your own words of confession as if they haven’t been looming around in your head for years.

the bell to your quaint little cafe chimes with his arrival, a rush of cool, late night air tangling with the temperate atmosphere as you lay your finishing touches on the meal you’d prepared for you both. when you look up, yuuta’s eyes have settled on you — warm and inviting as usual, but bright with a light that had been missing from them since you were young. you’ve missed it, the subtle spark that brings life to the coffee brown oasis in his eyes.

he remains as handsome as ever, taller than you by however many heads — limbs long, arms slightly muscular and waist slender, though his build is more like a dancer’s. yuuta okkotsu grew up to be a fine man and you’d be a fool to have not noticed. he crosses the room in short strides, rushing to take you into his arms and hold you close and squeeze you to his chest. yuuta smells like cookies, you note, hardly paying attention while his lips softly brush over your hairline in a sweet kiss.

“hi,” he whispers, voice smooth like melted chocolate dripping through your ears. “i’ve missed you.”

you only hope that he can’t hear your racing heartbeat, it’s speed picking up as you decide that this is your moment. the moment. “i’ve missed you too,” you mumble back, toying with a loose string on the cream cashmere the dark brunette is wearing. “yuuta…i have to tell you something—“

“i-i have something important to tell you,” he breathes out at the same time as you do, almost shy as you both sway in the centre of the room and enjoy one another’s embrace.

the both of you share a laugh that’s light and airy before you drag him over to a table and set of chairs, forcing him to sit and to eat the baked goods you’d set out for him. “you first, yuu,” it makes you happy to see him tuck in, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “you owe me a story after disappearing on me today.”

okkotsu nods in agreement, his cheeks adorably full of food and pastry flaked across his milky skin. “‘m sorry, i was sortin’ something out la’sht minute.”

“yeah?”

“y-yeah! i’m moving,” yuuta drops the bomb like it’s nothing. “abroad. for a job! professor gojo set me up and it’s s-supposed to help build my confidence and stuff—“

your world falls apart in an instant, sucking away the oxygen in your lungs until you feel like your lungs are failing. yuuta is leaving you and this time it’s for real.

confessing to him now wouldn't mean shit, you’d only be holding him back. your face crumples faster than you can control at the thought and after years of knowing you— okkotsu instantly picks up your change in mood.

“what’s wrong?” he says your name and even that hurts to hear.

“n-nothin’ yuu, i’m happy for you, really.” comes your broken voice over the quiet, you fake it until you make it.

“really? you don’t look like it.”

running a hand over your tired face, you force a smile. “really. especially if you think this is what’s best for you.”

“it is!” yuuta nearly snaps, controlling himself— stopping himself from yelling at you and tearing your friendship apart before he’s gone. “i need this, need’a be my own person. after college, after highschool i didn’t have time for any of that! i need this.”

needs it more than he needs you.

“okay.” you say simply, blankly.

“okay.” he says back.

the debate doesn’t last that much longer after that — the room fills with silence as you grieve your faltering friendship. whatever confession you had planned, now forgotten.

voicemail #3 - “yuuta! i wasn’t sure how long your flight was but please call me when you land! you’re gonna do great at your new job.”

yuuta doesn’t call after he lands, in fact two entire days pass before you actually hear from him. after the argument, you’d try to stay on good terms as though not to lose him for good — helping him pack and sort out his currencies, buying him language books since you knew he would struggle with the new dialect.

you figure it’s because he’s unpacking and not because he doesn’t want anything to do with you — and while you make some late night tea, you find that it’s better to imagine him alone in a new foreign country, picture his pretty pink lips struggling to form the vowels of the new language too, envision how he’ll tan under the blistering hot heat and how excited he’ll be to try new things.

its humiliating how easily he can preoccupy your thoughts from thousands of miles away and makes your heart race so fast that it might burst through the bones and flesh of your chest. he occupies your every thought like a fungus crawling across your brain that’s only disrupted by the sound of your phone ringing loudly — making you drop your tea and jump up to answer.

“hey,” the way yuuta says your name sends tingles down your spine — filtering out any pain you feel from burning your hand. he looks good too, dark hair flopping over his eyes, voice gravelly with sleep as if he’s just woken up and you’re the first thing on his mind. “i got your message, s-sorry for not calling i’ve been—“

you cut him off, eager to speak and draw the call out for as long as possible because you missed him. “busy? a guy like you must be extremely popular on the other side of the world.” you’re chipper in an attempt to cover how flustered you are and to cheer your best friend up when you notice how nervous he looks.

“not exactly… i’m nervous. e-everything seems so big ‘nd scary without you here…”

without you.

you shake your head over the grainy FaceTime call. “you’ve always done fine without me, you’ll do even better without having to cover for my shyness!” he laughs at that, the sound like a sweet song to soothe your aching heart. “you got this yuuta.”

your best friend gives you a sleepy smile, one that melts you like a knob of butter on a hot stove and has your knees knocking. “you’re the best, you know that? you always know what to say.”

the static crackles between you and your heart leaps into your throat.

“i’m always here for you, yuuta.”

“and i’m glad for that,” he yawns. “i love you.”

you have to remind yourself that what your best friend says is strictly platonic but you almost selfishly repeat the words back to yuuta until you notice he’s fallen back asleep.

ending the call, you clutch your phone and burned hand to your chest.

“i love you too.”

voicemail #4 - “hey sorry i missed your call, time zones can be crazy! work has been catching up with me and, well, i made a new friend!”

for the first week, you and yuuta text everyday while he’s away. you do your duty and act as his crutch like you always have— keeping him company while he works, eats and commutes all on his own. you feel bad that you lap up the attention he gives you over the phone through his loneliness. you could be compared to a desperately hungry stray animal at the way you drink up every little interaction you have. giving pieces of yourself away to keep your best friend happy.

but as time goes on, okkotsu seems less and less worried about his job — easily slipping into the language here and there, no longer relying on you to stand on his own two feet. the frequency of your communication dwindles to the point where you really feel like you’re oceans apart.

even yuuta notices the change within himself — the confidence that filters through him when he says yes to the pretty girl who works in the cubicle next to him when she asks him to tag along for drinks with the rest of the office one night which soon becomes a regular thing. he knows that he speaks less with you and that your texts are barely there but he’s sure you won’t mind the distance. you’re a busy girl, you run a cafe, a few days of not talking wouldn’t do any harm.

“oooh, she’s pretty. who is that?”

kasumi miwa is the one to pull yuuta out from the fog of his thoughts. the brunette looks up from his phone, your face flashing across it’s lock screen as the background. a photo where you have your arms wrapped around him from behind and your smile is as bright as the sunshine. miwa is a pretty girl, different from you. her voice is smoother and eloquent where yours is charming and sweet — she doesn’t remind him of home, or smell like the warmth of a chocolate chip cookie…but she is pretty. her presence is enough to make him shy.

he’s caught her looking a few times, her touch lingering whenever miwa passed him paperwork and right now; her cheeks are tinged pink probably from the alcohol the office is drinking inside where yuuta had come out for some fresh air.

okkotsu clicks his phone shut and stands up at full height to face his blue-haired coworker. “i… i haven’t spoken to her in a while. i miss her.” he says wistfully as he gives your name

“well, if i were dating a girl that pretty, i would miss them too.”

“o-oh! we’re not together! she’s my best friend!”

the woman beside yuuta cocks her head, a satisfied grin spreading across the slope of her lips. “you should call her — i’ll be waiting inside.”

he follows her eyes as she walks off, along with the whiff of her chanel perfume, before his gaze lands on his phone — he calls your phone.

you answer after the second ring, though don’t speak straight away, letting the silence wear the both of you thin. “how’ve you been?” you say quietly, lacking the chipperness to your tone that you usually have whenever the two of you ring each other up. there’s no hello, no warmth, you’re cold.

but yuuta doesn’t ask — he’d like to think he knows you well enough not to. he thinks that you’re fine, probably tired from work and it’s late over there too. if he cared to catch up with you, he’d have been more considerate of that.

“good!” the brunette chirps in order to keep the mood light, leaning over a nearby railing. i miss you. yuuta wants to add, but the words feel like cotton in his mouth, sticking unpleasantly to every surface and for some reason they don’t feel right to say— feel foreign. “work’s been good. i think i’m getting the hang of things around here. my co-workers are great, i get this amazing view every morning a-and—“

“and?”

“i met someone! i think! i wanna get to know her more but she’s been great to me so far…you’d like her!”

hearts don’t make a sound when they break, but if they did— you’re sure that yuuta would have been able to hear yours even from halfway across the globe. over his own ramblings he can hardly make out the shatter of your vital organ as it falls to pieces, cracks into tiny shards with jagged edges that could make you bleed if you tried to put it back together…because your best friend having met someone means he’s moving on. leaving you behind. and he’s too tone deaf to notice.

through the static of a phone call, okkotsu misses the crumple of your face and the way your throat bobs as you swallow back salty tears and two decades worth of unrequited love. you’re devastated and he can’t even tell, barely noticing the way you rush off the phone while he’s halfway through a sentence.

his brows furrow when he realises you’ve hung up.

“i take it that didn’t go well?” kasumi questions when yuuta re-renters the bar, her face sympathetic but voice elevated with smugness.

he shakes his head once. “no, but it’s okay. she’s been busy.”

he excuses you but kasumi doesn’t let up, pushing for more of yuuta — breaking him out from his shell, stealing and keeping the pearl of his heart for her taking. “don’t be too sad yuuta, you have me and your new friends, we’ll keep you company instead.”

there’s a hidden meaning behind her cherry picked words. she’ll keep him company — and for once, yuuta doesn’t feel guilty for trying to break away from you.

voicemail #5 - “what happened between us yuuta? you used to tell me everything and now you’ve got a girlfriend? i didn’t even find out through you!”

there’s an unspoken rule to a friendship that’s lasted as long as yours and yuuta’s – you’re supposed to tell each other everything. there’s not been a secret between you in all the years you’ve known each other except for minor white lies that couldn’t amount to major forms of harm. he might have told you that your hair looked fine on days where you’d barely any time to tend to it and you might have told him that he hadn’t been awkward presenting in front of your entire college class… but those were worthless lies. strings of words tied together that didn’t mean anything, that didn’t have any intent to harm.

there were no secrets, no major ones.

until now.

“he’s got a girlfriend, yanno…”

the news is shared with you casually from over the counter one day by your irritating white-haired ex-professor who makes a habit of annoying his old students. he comes in for sweets often and the daifuku you make is his favourite – you offer him extra in exchange for updates on the classmates you used to share since he’s nosey like that.

with every visit to your little cafe, gojo filled you in on everything yuuta had been up to in the blurred weeks and months since you’d last spoken – including his relationship status. “she’s pretty too, long hair. s’blue which is an odd colour, but she’s been good to him, ‘pparently. boosted his confidence.”’ the man cocks his head, watching in real-time as your movements in packing up his order slow down.

your throat bobs whilst you swallow your fading pride in front of your teacher, forcing down a wave of tears. it doesn’t matter how many times yuuta gets over you, moves on from you, finds someone to love other than you… it still hurts. it’ll always hurt knowing that he can fill the other half of his heart with someone that isn't you, while your own stays void and empty.

as always, satoru gojo sees right through your resolve as you total up his order – again forgoing charging him extra for the little tid bit of gossip he’d given you. there’s a shell of someone he doesn’t recognise in place of the girl he used to teach – the one who was once full of life and eager to learn, get out into the world and achieve your dreams. yuuta okkotsu had chipped away at you, the years you’d spent protecting his feelings had caused you to drown in your own.

and gojo could see that, he knew that. he’d been through it before.

he only wishes he had better words of comfort for you.

“you love him, don’t you?” he asks you quietly as you ring him up but you answer with his total in yen instead – sniffling as you do. professor gojo takes his brown paper bag, full of enough sugar to make the heart stop – to kill a person, but even that’s a better death than the heartache you’re going through now. you sniff and he offers you a sad smile that doesn’t quite reach the sapphire eyes behind his shades. “better yet, don’t answer that. i don’t need anymore tears in my daifuku.”

voicemail #6 - “oh fuck yuuji, right there…” “here baby? oh you’re so cute, fuck ‘m gonna—!” “oh… yuuji!”

( incoming voicemail from - yuuta: “hey, call me back? who’s yuuji? are you okay?” )

yuuta knows that he shouldn’t have kept listening – he should have deleted the voicemail as soon as he caught onto what was happening. it didn’t take a genius to know what was going on, the sounds of skin slapping on skin, your voice wavering with the tune of lust even over the static crackle of the voicemail you’d left.

he wishes that he’d never heard you moan out like that for someone else, that he wasn’t picturing the faces you’d make underneath the body of another man…but he couldn’t help it. the more he listened, the angrier he felt, the more betrayal flooded his veins and clouded his usually clear judgement. the brunette had no right to be this mad at you, he was supposed to be happy with miwa, supposed to be letting you move on just like he had done from you.

and yet, like a necrotizing parasite – jealousy feasts at the back of okkotsu’s mind. it disrupts his work, distracts him from his girlfriend and fills his mind with flashing images of you being fucked five ways by another man. one that isn’t him. yuuji. who even is yuuji? how did you meet him? were you dating him? you hadn’t talked in so long so the guy had barely come up in conversation. you were best friends that used to tell each other everything and now he felt like you were fucking someone new behind his back. yuuta knew nothing of what that stranger meant to you, he had no idea that yuuji itadori was just some college boy you’d brought home one drunken night – to act as a salve for the burns your childhood best friend had left on you.

it's a temporary fix, yuuji’s tongue laps at your wounds – pleasures you with teeth and tongue until your head is light and you’re almost too dizzy to think properly. in the moment, he felt good, he took care of you…but he wasn’t who you wanted. he wasn’t yuuta.

was it bad that you basked in the jealous rage and attention the brunette had bathed you in? drowning you in a barrage of text messages the morning after you’d slept with itadori, when yuuta finally had the chance to listen to the voicemail you’d left by accident. it was the most you’d gotten out of him in the months you’d been separated.

yuuta - 7:16AM: hey…did you mean to send that? call me when you’re up.

yuuta - 7:45AM: i don’t think i was supposed to hear that…

yuuta - 8:34AM: who’s yuuji?

yuuta - 8:36AM: are you seeing someone? call me please.

yuuta - 8:57AM: pick up the phone.

yuuta - 9:21AM: it’s not funny anymore. i’m worried. pick up.

you answer your phone around noon, having given yourself the space to think over cooking a hang-over breakfast for yuuji. the sounds of spitting oil underneath frying eggs had provided the soundtrack to your thoughts – helped you pick and choose the words you would say to yuuta before your companion slips out of your apartment and you tell him to grab a pastry from your cafe downstairs on his way out. a little thank you for the night you’d shared.

“what the hell was that?” is the first thing yuuta snarls down the line once your call connects.

you shift your phone in your grasp, as if his seething tone has scorched the palm of your hand. “are we past greetings or somethin’, yuu?” you fail to admit that it hurts you, starting the call without his tender and caring ‘hello’, you feel like an enemy on the battlefield to okkotsu, rather than his friend.

“i think we are well past that, especially with the kind of voice messages you’ve been leaving me.” he says it like he’s disgusted with you, when he really just misses you. craves you. he’s angry at himself and for letting you slip between his fingers into the grasp of another man. not at you. never at you. but even cell phone lines connecting calls from across the globe can’t properly convey the way yuuta feels. “what’s going on with you? why are you acting like this? we haven’t spoken in weeks and you–?”

“why is what i do any of your business anymore, yuuta?” you snap through his flurry of questions, growing heated yourself. “i accidentally left you a voicemail of me fucking someone, that doesn’t mean there’s anything wrong with me.”

“you’re just… not like this. we don’t speak and all of a sudden…y-you’re different!”

you clutch the phone tighter, swallowing thickly. “and who’s fault is that? let me answer that for you. it’s yours. you’re the one who got a girlfriend and left me in the dust. not the other way around!” you argue, trying to sound stern and steady though yuuta can hear the wobble to your words loud and clear. “you shouldn’t have listened, you should have called. you let the distance become a problem between us.”

he scoffs, an action so unlike your best friend. “we’re not children anymore! you should have talked to me about the distance!”

“i couldn't!” you defend yourself, desperate for the pain in your heart to be heard for once. “you were finally happy again yuuta! that mattered to me—“

“you think i'm happy about hearing my best friend get…defiled over the phone?”

“well you should be! it means I’m not hung up on you anymore, that i’m moving on from being in love with you! leaving you so that you can be happy in your new life!”

the silence from yuuta’s end of the phone is both too loud and too deafening.

“you…loved me?” he whispers, switching back to that same sweet tone he always used when it came to you. “why didn’t you say?”

your stupid little confession, the one you’d been holding back for more than half your life, sips out before you can catch it with the tip of your tongue and you instantly feel terrible for weaponizing your crush on okkotsu against him. at least that’s what it feels like you’ve done. “i never told you…because i’m not selfish, yuuta,” you stutter out, your face hot with oncoming and flustered tears. “i-i'm not a selfish person. i wouldn’t sacrifice our friendship or your happiness, not just because i loved you.”

yuuta says your name, but blood rushes through your ears in embarrassment – way too fast for you to catch it, and you hang up before you can humiliate yourself any further.

before you can hear him say that he loves you too.

voicemail #7 - “open up, i'm coming home. please be here when I’m home.”

the number you have dialled is unavailable, please try again later.

after the slip of your tongue and confession to yuuta— he was met with radio silence. you’d blocked him on every form of social media possible and he couldn’t even blame you. you wanted to be free from him, from that silly and imaginary red string that had kept you tied to his soul for all of these years. it hurt to think when everything reminded you of him, so you buried yourself in your cafe and worked yourself to death because even the sweet relief from life would be better than living without your best friend.

gojo had stopped by and taken you to the hospital twice since you’d worked yourself into exhaustion — tonight was no different, sentenced to bed rest by your ex-professor and the best doctor he could find. he always did look out for his students.

sleeping your sadness away had caused you to miss a barrage of yuuta’s calls — if you’d picked up you’d have known that he was coming home. coming home for you. in the wake of your love confession, okkotsu had realised how much he needed you and how much he loved you. you had never left his side, no matter what yuuta had been through, and now, nothing feels right without you.

so he broke up with his girlfriend, took leave from his job and flew halfway across the world for you — to give his message in person.

it’s near midnight by the time yuuta gets back to japan, the warm yellow of the streetlights illuminating the path right up to your apartment after getting out of the uber. there’s a spare house key, glinting gold, hidden under your cupcake shaped doormat just as yuuta remembers and he uses it to slip inside — dumping his bag and kicking his shoes off at the entryway. his socked feet locate the bedroom with ease, perhaps drawn by your aura and the anticipation of seeing you again.

and there you are, so close yet so far away — your face peaceful and painted with an adorable expression of slumber. okkotsu notes the way your chest slowly rises and falls, the crease between your brow as if you’re having a bad dream. he could fix it… whatever’s plaguing your sleeping mind, he knows that he can, because whenever you touch each other, it’s like your bodies know to relax and that they’re safe.

tiptoeing deeper into the room, the brunette slinks up to the side of your bed and the mattress dips underneath the weight of his knee as he seats himself beside you. you’re so beautiful, so calm. he doesn’t know how he went his whole life without choosing you, choosing other people over you time and time again. “i love you,” yuuta whispers into the dead of the night, brushing a thumb and forefinger over the apple of your cheek — hesitating when you roll into his body heat. “i love you. i’m so sorry.” he says again, while pressing a feather light kiss to that same spot.

his breath hitches when you reach for him this time, grabbing at the man in your sleep.

yuuta kisses you again, but on your forehead. then your other cheek, your chin, your inner wrists and finally — your lips. each brush of his own against you is increasingly feverish, pouring unspoken emotions into them as he quietly utters the words ‘i love you.’ over and over again. he feels like he has something to prove, as if the brunette has to show you how much he cares for you — leaving a trail of sweet smooches between the valley of your breasts from over your night-shirt to between your thighs that spill out of the loose material.

he only hopes that this is enough for you to forgive him, for you to love him back like he does you.

your best friend… or ex best friend really should feel bad about this, teething on the swell of your thighs— his fingertips sinking into their apex to pry you apart for him. you could end up hating him more for this, yuuta’s slick and drool stained tongue rolling over the seam at the crotch of your panties hungrily, softly as if to test the waters. he takes it as a good sign when your face contorts with pleasure even in your sleep and slots his entire mouth against the sweet treasure between your legs— sucking the juices from the fabric of your underwear.

you taste so good and he’s not even got you properly wet yet. yuuta’s next move is to hook two fingers over the garment to pull it aside — revealing your twitching hot cunt to the cool night air in your bedroom. even your scent is divine, enticing just as you’ve always been and the brunette can’t believe he was too blind to see it before. he presses a chase kiss to your clit, feeling it pulse to life against his lips before said kisses become open mouthed and sloppy— tongue diving into the tightness of your little hole, circling it to flick your flavour back into his mouth.

his movements start slow, tenderly testing which spots inside your pretty little cunt make you sigh out contently while you slumber but the wetter you get, the sloppier yuuta becomes — lapping at your sex and your clit in eager movements like a kitten at a bowl of milk. you only stir awake when his fingers travel up to grip onto your ass and tug your pussy onto his face, guiding you up and down on his writhing tongue like he’s fucking you for real.

“y-yuu?” you grumble, still finding your footing in the reality of consciousness. “whas’ h-happenin’… oh my god—!” the questions you have for the mop of hair between your legs, groaning like a starved man into there too, taper into an angelic moan. pretty and airy, like music to yuuta’s ears. once you come to and fully realise what’s going on, your fingers slip into the roots of his hair and your hips buck into his mouth instinctively — even though you should be pissed. even though you should be screaming at him and kicking him off. you can’t help it that this is what you’ve always wanted. that you’ve always wanted him.

“w-what are you doing here?” you manage to ask through a whine, brain fogging up at the way yuuta’s tongue runs laps over your swelling clit.

he pulls off of you with a lewd pop that makes both of you shudder, two of his slender digits easily sliding into you where his tongue once was — guided by spit and slick. “i came home for you. i love you,” your best friend doesn’t have time to formulate proper reasoning, drunk on your saccharine flavour like you’re the finest wine he’s ever had the honour of tasting. “f-fuck, i-i missed you.”

yuuta gives you those big puppy dog eyes as he curls his digits inside of you and hits spots you can't quite reach on your own. you should be talking about your feelings not fucking through them but you’ve missed him so much and need him so bad. both of you groan in unison when he brushes over your g-spot, your hips jumping up and his grinding down into your silky sheets.

“missed you too,” you breathe and yank him up by the hair to meet your lips — making out with him feverishly, swapping the words your mind can’t seem to force you to say, pouring the mixed emotions into him as he finger fucks your tight little hole like his life depends on it.

every movement you make with one another is sloppy and uncoordinated, tongues doused in one another’s saliva— saliva that tastes like you. your moans mingle in the hot and heavy air and you clench down on yuuta’s fingers as they pump in and out of you, his palm slapping against your folds while you leak into the seat of his palm.

“are you close?” yuuta slurs into your mouth so quietly you almost miss it underneath the lewd sound of your pussy. “i want to make you cum, show you how much i love you.”

blood rushes through your ears, heat pin pricking like needles under your skin. “y-yes. p-please yuu…”

his thumb dragging smooth circles over the pulsating bud between your blooming pussy lips is all you need to trip over the edge into your high— the knots in your lower tummy unwinding faster than you can register, waves of your nectar flowing from your cunt onto the sheets below and soiling yuuta’s hand right up to his wrist.

your head tips back into a high pitched squeal, eyes locked away and rolling back while you damn near black out from your orgasm. but your best friend is right there like he should be, sucking love-bites into your neck to ground you. dark tresses of yuuta’s chocolate-like hair tickle at your tingling flesh while he manoeuvres himself between your legs and shifts his pants down enough to let his rock hard cock spring free.

“c-can you take me now?” he pleads more than he asks, brown and warm eyes trembling with need, anticipation. “i don’t think i’ll last long and i need you.”

you feel him press at your entrance, his angry red tip glistening with opaque beads of precum— yuuta softly ruts his hips against you, smearing…claiming you with his own essence while he waits for your consent. “i’ve always needed you, yuuta.” you say breathlessly, giving him a small grin and nod when he looks up from drooling against your neck.

that’s all the go ahead he needs before his thick girth pushes all the way into you at once — weighty and temperate against your ribbed and creamy walls. “‘ohmyfuckinggod,” he whimpers wetly against you. “y-you’re so tight wrapped around me. so perfect i—“

“move, yuuta. fuck me, please,” you remind him, tugging on his air and crossing your ankles at the base of his spine.

“y-yeah okay…g-god you’re so good. so sweet ‘n tight.” with that, he draws his hips back — hesitant at first. brown eyes watch your face for any signs of discomfort and yuuta’s lust driven instincts take the lead when he only notices how blissed out you look. your pretty lips are agasp, forming a pleasure-filled ‘o’ as you mewl and claw at his half-clothed shoulders. “i love you, o-oh god!”

all you can do is whimper in response, fingers drifting up to the nape of yuuta’s neck to tangle in his dark locks— tugging him into you as if it’ll make him hit deeper, churn up your guts and make you see stars. “y-you’re stupid…” you manage to get out, the warmth of your breath glossing his lips as if to taunt your best friend with a kiss.

“i know…” calloused fingers grab at the backs of your thighs with a bruising grip before yuuta pushes your legs towards your shoulders, both of you grunting and whining in unison when you tighten around him at the new angle. gushing sweet juices that paint his stomach and pelvis.

“y-you shouldn’t have left me,” tears start to brim, collecting in your lash line like diamonds before they hit your cheeks.

you’re so beautiful like this, even when you’re crying— when you’re crying because you’re fucked up on his cock, claiming it with your cream as ur clings to his balls and the veins that spital down his length.

yuuta’s red hot tip nudges against the soft and squishy spots along your sensitive walls, keeping his thrusts at a rhythmic and passionate pace to make sure the only thing you feel is heaven on earth. your pussy is hot and warm and heaven-like around him, sucking him in so selfishly and tightening every time yuuta’s strong abs grind against your puffy clit.

“i know,” he sighs dreamily and with an airy voice, licking a stripe from your chin to your cheek as a tear streaks it’s way down it. “won't ever leave you again,” his fingers touch at your face, sinking into the softness of your cheeks as he drags you up to face him. “i’ll never leave you again.”

“never?” you ask, hiccuping.

“never.” he moans.

you see it there, the love glittering amongst the almond flecks in your childhood best friend’s eyes — he means it, he promises it and you can feel it with every roll of yuuta’s hips into you while he pins you to the bed. he makes love to you and says what he needs to through his actions this time. through your tangled mess of sweaty limbs and fluttering lashes you find okkotsu’s hand, linking them together.

the sight of your hands meeting one another brings emotions bubbling to the surface of your skin, hot to yuuta’s touch — it's a symbol that you’ve finally come together after being worlds apart for so long. “you’re finally mine, ‘m never letting you go,” his warm breath coasts across the seam of your lips before he dips into kiss you— tongue gliding over yours as it pushes into the depths of your mouth just as his cock does, brushing up against your g-spot and just kissing your cervix. “you’re always going to be mine.”

“i-i’m yours,” your eyes roll back and yuuta loses his pace, his entire body twitching the closer you both get. sex taints the air, both in sound and scent, your cunt squelching around him with how wet you are and how much he leaks into you. “g-gonna cum, yuu! make me cum, make me fucking cum.” you slur out, anchoring the man down to you with your arms around his neck until yuuta’s forehead is pressed against yours. sweaty locks of his hair and all.

yuuta’s body collapses against you and his thrusts switch to sensual grinds that never let up on your spongey g-spot. “f-fuck me, b-baby. ‘m cummin’,” he croons, panting against your lips and with one, two, three more pumps you’re squirting all over him— the pressure unwinds in your lower belly and you’re hit with blinding white lights and your nails dig into yuuta’s shoulder to the point where you leave bright red crescent moons. “that’s it baby, cum for me, make a mess for me. show me you love me— fuck!”

you’re still trembling with the aftershocks with your orgasm when the brunette follows suit — the warmth of his seed floods your quivering cunt, painting your folds an opaque white before yuuta pulls out. the last droplets of his cum hit your soft tummy accompanied by his high pitched whine and then he crumples against you, exhausted from the height of it all.

“i love you so much,” yuuta hums against your skin, pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder. “it’s always been you.”

“i love you,” you affirm, knowing that no matter what distance is put between you and your best friend (now lover) — you’ll always find your way back to each other.

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maximoff-pan · 5 months

Text

the ultimate deception | benedict bridgerton (part one)

summary: you are a well known artist who paints under a pseudonym. What happens when Lady Whistledown comes to know of your identity? How will your relationship with Benedict evolve?

pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!(artist)reader

word count: 4k

warning(s): poor writing and dialogue (sue me, I'm rusty lol), very unedited so if there are mistakes, I apologize, misogyny, penelope aka Lady Whistledown's biggest defender

a/n: this is definitely going to be more than one part, but I wanted to post something after so many months. Let me know how you like it (or don't like it haha)...comments and feedback are much appreciated <3

• • • • • •

“I wish I possessed merely an ounce of your talent.”

Benedict’s gaze seems to be wholly absorbing your latest painting, a depiction of the botanical wonders of London’s Royal Kew Gardens.

You puff out a breath, blowing on the feathery end of one of your writing quills. In your haste, it had gotten loose, tickling your face irritatingly. Tucking it back behind your ear, you wave him off. “You have much more talent than you give yourself credit for.” You admit through squinted eyes, scanning your work. “You simply lack conviction. And you worry far too much about what others think of you.”

Benedict smiles, receiving your words as the highest of praise. He reaches out to take a better look at the piece of art before him. “You flatter me.” He mumbles in awe. “But I suppose there’s a chance you could be right.”

Chuckling at his words, you grin knowingly. You’re right. It’s more than a chance…you just are. He knows it too.

You both continue to steadily eye the painting, you out of critical evaluation of your work, and him in sheer admiration of it.

Benedict’s favourite part remains the beautifully bloomed magnolias that are scattered across the canvas. He’d been sure to tell you numerous times of their elegance while you’d been working on it, eagerly awaiting the finished product. As you’ve come to realize, Benedict loves watching you work. It’s one of the prices you’ve had to pay for his allowance of your workstation being at Bridgerton House, if you could even call it that.

You are grateful, truly. You wouldn’t be able to make your own living without his kindness. And you certainly wouldn’t be able to keep to yourself in the way you prefer to.

“When will Augustus Leighton be displaying his latest work of perfection?” Benedict’s question reminds you of your fate as an artist.

Augustus Leighton is the pseudonym you paint under. Using his name, you have become a well known artist among the ton, even going so far as to have a painting hung at Buckingham Palace. It’s difficult, you must admit, pretending to be someone else. But it’s a necessary evil.

Painting as a woman would get you nowhere. Especially as a woman with no money (particularly at the time you began), no status, and no husband.

Your mother is a seamstress with little to her name and your father was a servant to Violet and Edmund Bridgerton, before his heart became too weak. He passed away when you were thirteen, only a few years after the Bridgerton children had lost their own father. You’d grown up with little money, but Violet had been kind to both you and your mother, seeing how close you’d become with her children.

You were raised alongside them, Benedict and Eloise becoming your closest of friends. At three and twenty, there are five years between you and the two siblings in either direction, with Eloise being freshly eighteen, and Benedict having turned twenty eight. To this day, they remain two of only three people who know of your true identity, outside of Penelope Featherington.

You hadn’t exactly meant for Eloise or Penelope to find out about it, but once they had, it became comforting to have more than just Benedict to speak to about your predicament. Especially considering, although Benedict has been wonderfully supportive, he could never understand the struggle a woman must endure in a male dominated world.

“Likely never. This one is a gift for Lady Danbury.” You answer Benedict’s inquiry after a bout of silence. “She’s spoken about her love of these gardens quite regularly, so I thought, why not have Mr. Leighton recreate it for her?”

“How will you get it to her?” He questions.

A smile pulls at the corners of your lips. “I have my ways, lest you worry about it.”

• ж • ж • ж • ж •

The next few days are interesting to say the least. You’d somehow managed to get the painting delivered to Lady Danbury, and as far as Violet had been willing to speak of her latest visit with the formidable aforementioned woman, you have been made aware that she adores it.

You’d also heard more about it from Benedict, who’d mentioned something about her being at a loss for words, an ultimate shock to both him and his mother. They’d never seen her look so bewildered.

According to Eloise, Lady Danbury had been surprised to receive such a gift, especially of something so near and dear to her heart. She’d said it reminded her of her time with the Queen, telling the young Bridgerton woman about the months just after her husband had passed, when a new independent lifestyle began to bloom for her.

The painting itself reminded her that women like her could be free, and one day, they would be. That sort of metaphorical mindset had definitely appealed to Eloise’s sense of social justice. She’d been more than excited to tell you about the older woman’s reaction to your art, claiming it to be a wonderful revelation.

Today though, as you sit in the Bridgerton’s common living room, the opposite representation of said female autonomy rests in your hands. The paper feels rough against your skin as you pass it to Eloise who’s propped excitedly to the left of you. You’ve never been a fan of Lady Whistledown’s gossip column, although you can admire her unabashed confidence. But despite her strong will as an author, which could be seen as an inherently empowering trait, you are of the impression that she goes about it in an entirely backward way.

Women don’t need to put each other down to build themselves up. It accomplishes nothing, consequently acting as a source of nourishment for the patriarchy you find yourself trapped in.

“You’re not going to read it?” Eloise asks as she takes the pamphlet from you.

“I never do.” Is your instant reply.

Penelope perks up at the mention of the column, eyes trained curiously on you. If you had known better, you’d say she was a little too interested.

But at this moment you shrug it off, listening with no suspicion as she asks a simple, “Why?”

You don’t have the hindsight to understand why your stomach turns at her question, but you respond anyway. “I tend to think of Lady Whistledown as a poison.” It’s the first time you’ve voiced such an opinion.

Penelope and Eloise turn to you in surprise. “Come again?” Penelope’s soft voice cuts through.

“She is a poison.” You repeat before explaining yourself. “Do not get me wrong, I hold admiration for her bravado, but her words, the things she writes, they cause nothing but pain and conflict for those she chooses to sink her teeth into.”

“But she’s an independent woman.” Eloise interjects. “One who is doing more than any of us could dream of. She is making a name for herself!”

You try to think about your next words carefully, but your mouth makes quick work of a reply. “A name which she hides behind, casting stones through the guise and safety of anonymity.”

Penelope lets out a scoff from beside you. She’s always been one to defend the infamous gossip columnist. “At least she does not hide herself behind the mask of a man.” That feels like a shot. “The people know full well of her gender, despite her true identity remaining a secret.”

You hear the implication on her tongue. The same cannot be said for you.

And she’s not wrong. You do hide yourself behind the mask of a man. You’d never once denied that.

You sigh. “I know you must think of me as a hypocrite.”

Eloise agrees hesitantly. “Only a little.” She admits. “It’s just that you do the same as Mr. Leighton.”

You soften at her honesty. Truthfully, you understand where she’s coming from, but you can’t help the urge you feel to defend yourself.

“I disguise myself as Augutus because I know that no artist or art critic alike will take me seriously as I am. I want to share my work with the world, that is simply all I want. It’s all I have ever wanted.”

“Does that not make you a coward?” Penelope inquires, although it feels less like a question and more like an opinion. This is what she believes. And she's entitled to that.

“Perhaps.” You nod in acknowledgment. “But it has also made me uniquely successful. And I take great pride knowing that my work is highly regarded, in spite of the fact that I have to be someone else to succeed.”

“Does that ever bother you?” Eloise persists. “Knowing that no one will know you for the work you have done?”

Before you can respond, Penelope chimes in with a query of her own. “Does it ever make you feel guilty, lying as you do?” This feels like a challenge.

You turn to Eloise, answering her first. “No, I feel quite unbothered. I like the privacy it provides me.” Your gaze flicks between the two girls, a fire in your eyes as you speak.

You answer Penelope’s question next. “Guilt is one of the last feelings to cross my mind.” You feel content with it. “Because of Augustus, I have my own money, my own independence. I do not need a man to survive or to be happy. I have choices. And that's a facet of my life I never dreamed could have existed. If there is anything more empowering for a woman than that, I cannot think of it.”

Eloise listens to your words carefully, absorbing them, reveling in them. She hadn’t thought of it like that, but you’re right. Independence is a sign of true equality. And you have that. Not because of the name you hide behind, but because you’d used the insecurities of men to your advantage. You’d played the game and won.

“I suppose I have been quite short sighted.” There’s much less arrogance in her tone. Eloise sounds humbled. “You’ve given me a new perspective to think about.”

Penelope does not enjoy the direction this conversation has headed. “Surely you cannot think yourself above someone such as Lady Whistledown.”

Your face scrunches in thought. “Above?” You stipulate. “I do not think myself above anyone, gender aside. But I do think I have a much higher sense of self respect than she does.”

“And how could that possibly be?” Penelope has to bite her tongue. She wants to say more, defend herself more. But she cannot.

Eloise cuts in. “Lady Whistledown has the utmost confidence in herself. I dare say more than all the women in London combined. As much as I have come to see your side, I cannot agree with that.”

“One’s high level of confidence is of little concern here.” You deliver. “Often, in matters regarding the human condition, such as these, it can act as a detriment.” Your eyes narrow as you speak. “Self respect and self confidence can coincide, but they are not the same.”

Eloise laughs out of confusion. She’s not used to being this clueless. “I don’t understand.” She says.

“Ah,” you decide to stop tiptoeing around the subject. “I merely think that no self-respecting woman would use the pain and suffering of other women, or any other person for that matter, for their own profit and entertainment.”

Eloise’s smile drops. “Oh.” Again, she hadn’t thought of it that way. But what resonates with her most is that you’re not wrong.

“Is that what you truly think of Lady Whistledown?” Penelope’s voice is calm and collected for the first time this afternoon. It almost scares you.

“Yes.” You say, before voicing, “However, I mean no offense to either of you. I know how much you girls adore her column. I just want more for you than what she does. A life of gossip is dangerous, and you deserve so much more.”

If you had known you’d been talking to Lady Whistledown herself, maybe you would have kept those opinions to yourself. But little did you know how much your life was about to change, how dangerously you’d walked the line, and how much vengeance rests in Penelope Featherington’s soul.

Future note to self, do not play with fire if one does not wish to get burnt.

• ж • ж • ж • ж •

“(Y/n), I think you need to see this.” Benedict holds up the newest edition of London’s famous gossip column.

Your heart sinks at the look in his eyes. I’m sorry they seem to say.

You haven’t even read it and you already know it’s bad. Handing it to you, Benedict looks hesitant, almost in preparation of what's to come. As you take it from him, you glance down at the ink on the paper, her handwriting etched in your brain.

You swallow the lump in your throat as you begin to read:

Dearest Gentle Reader,

It has come to this author’s attention that a certain individual is playing an unforgivable game of deception within the world of classical art that this ton so highly regards. This artisan has gone to great lengths to keep their true identity from you, painting under a well recognized pseudonym.

By now you may have guessed, this artist is a woman. One who has tricked you and lied to you by passing her work off as that of a man’s. What a horrid crime it is to keep such a secret from you, and a desperate one, I must admit. A woman so foul as to seek such attention for her art, far too greedy to be content with the life so many of the wonderful women of the ton lead. Instead, she parades around disguising herself so she can live a life she feels entitled to.

This author asks you to consider the arrogance of it all. But the question remains, as I am sure you are desperate to uncover: who is the serpent who remains among us?

And so it is with great sorrow that I announce the once beloved Augustus Leighton is a fraud. A man never seen in the public setting, has given us a reason why. He is a woman.

And her name, ladies and gentleman of London, is (Y/n) (L/n).

As I am sure you, gentle reader, are shocked at this revelation, I will take a moment to address the woman this particular entry concerns.

May I remind you Miss (L/n), I have ears and eyes everywhere. Or did you forget? It would do you a world of good to remember that the next time you think about besmirching me. And, as I write this, I must say, this warning goes for all. Heed it, live by it, breathe by it. I am not a woman you want to cross.

Yours truly,

Lady Whistledown

Panic crawls through your body. You want to cry, scream, maybe even simply die from the anxiety you’re feeling.

“What am I going to do?”

Your voice cracks, it sounds like glass breaking. Shattered, ragged, and tired, and Benedict can do nothing but hold you.

Again, as your body shakes and caves into the pressure you think, what am I going to do?

• ж • ж • ж • ж •

The moment Eloise enters the room with Anthony at her side, your mind is sent ablaze. Only three people had known about Augustus. Only three people could have possibly let it slip, and you know for a fact it wasn’t Benedict.

As much as you want to believe Eloise would never do something like that to you, you can’t help but feel like she might have offhandedly mentioned it to someone. Her mouth had always worked much faster than her brain.

Benedict’s gaze meets yours in understanding. He hopes his sister hasn’t done this; he’ll be furious if she has.

You’re about to say something when a certain eldest Bridgerton catches you off guard. Anthony smiles when he sees you, eyes twinkling uncharacteristically so.

“I had no idea you could paint like that.” He says. “I must admit, I’m quite proud of you.”

You blink rapidly in confusion. Proud? In all the years you’ve known Anthony, he’s never told you he’s proud of you.

“So you’ve read the column then?” Your head hangs in shame. Everyone in London has probably read it by now.

“Everyone has.” Eloise pipes in timidly, confirming your suspicions.

She’s nervous, understandably so, fingers fiddling with the hem of her dress. You assume when you finally catch her gaze that she’ll avert it quickly, but instead, she holds it well.

We need to talk.

Benedict, reading the room perfectly, coughs in apprehension. “Brother, how about we let these ladies be for a moment? I’m certain they have some things to discuss.”

“Of course.” Anthony nods with a smile, not before reminding you how proud he is of you.

If anything good can come of this, it might just be that.

Once alone, Eloise is eager to assure you of her innocence. “I spoke to no one.” She promises. “Blood be forgotten, you’re my sister (Y/n). I would never betray you like that.”

The look on her face is one of pure panic; she needs you to believe her. And despite everything, you do. It almost makes you feel guilty that you questioned her.

“It’s alright.” You assure her. “I know you wouldn’t.”

But that only leaves one person…

“I think Penelope is Lady Whistledown.” You're taken aback by Eloise’s words, like a stab to the chest. Twisting the knife in further, she corrects, “I know she is.”

Moments of silence pass before you can collect your thoughts. “How long have you known?”

This is where Eloise loses her composure. Pure shame is etched upon her features. “I caught her a few weeks ago.”

A few weeks. A few weeks… A FEW WEEKS?

“Oh.” Your murmur is dejected and weak.

Eloise had known you’d been slandering Lady Whistledown in front of Lady Whistledown, and she’d done nothing to stop you, except defend her best friend’s honour. No wonder she’d been so reluctant to agree with you.

“I wanted to say something.” Eloise stammers. “But I couldn’t. Penelope doesn’t know that I know.”

You inhale a staggered breath of air, face falling to your palms. “I’ve been such a fool. How could I have been so stupid?”

“You have not.” The girl beside you opposes before continuing, “Trust me, I am furious with Penelope. The things she’s done and said about me, about the people I care about, I’m not sure I can forgive her for it.”

You scoff lightly. Trust her? How are you supposed to do that?

Sure, Eloise has certainly been burned by Lady Whistledown before, but she’s always had her name to fall back on. “You have no idea what it’s like, Eloise.”

“I’m sorry.” She slumps in apology, shrinking in on herself. Eloise likes to think she can understand where you’re coming from. She’s a woman, same as you, one who has the same struggles against the patriarchy, and yet, hers are much different.

“Don’t.” You dismiss her apology in frustration. It feels harsh but necessary. “You always speak about feminism and the difficulties of being a woman. How it is impossible for you to hold title and rank, or to be recognized for your accomplishments. But you are a Bridgerton Eloise, and that comes with more privilege, more title, more rank, and more acknowledgment in society than you seem to understand.”

Eloise’s brow furrows. “More often than not, that name is a burden, something you could not possibly grasp.”

“And I should not have to.” Your lips pull into a thin line. This isn’t a competition, but you feel it necessary to defend your point wholly. “I am the daughter of a servant and a seamstress. I have no money, no control, and no future if I am not to marry. Since the day I was born, I belonged to someone else. You talk of struggle, but you have no idea what it truly means.”

Eloise doesn’t like what you’re implying. “You think I live a life of luxury? That I am a stranger to the adversities life has to offer? I can assure you, I know much more about the struggles of which you speak. My mother has prepared me for the purpose of my future; finding a husband is imperative.”

“You plan to remain unmarried, correct?” You ask her seriously.

“With every fiber in my being.” Is her scathing reply. And it only serves to prove your point. But you can see her side of things too.

“El, you defy your mother with your distaste for society. And while I applaud your determination to fight for equality, your fault remains in your failure to recognize the entitlement that has been bestowed upon you simply by having that choice. Unlike so many women, you can choose to live your life as a spinster. For you, those options exist. For me, I have not one choice besides finding a well suited, at best, middle class husband, because that is all I am suited for.”

In this moment, her heart shatters for you. Is that really what you think of yourself? “You cannot possibly mean that.”

“It’s how it has to be.” You affirm.

“It’s not.” She disagrees. “There’s so much more for you than a husband.”

Both your defenses are down, walls have collapsed, and you’re starting to get through to each other. She’s starting to grasp the gravity of what this means for you. Your career is more than likely over, as is the steady source of income you’d managed to build. Except where before you’d had less than no money to your name, you now had a healthy dowry (that you’d earned no less) to find a more comfortable suitor.

Eloise sees it now. What Penelope has done is monumentally life changing.

However, as emotional as this circumstance is, you still feel the need to reach out. She’s your sister after all.

“Eloise,” your eyes search hers. They tread in a sea of empathy. “I never meant to imply you have lived a life without misfortunes. I’m not trying to diminish your hurt. But I thought if you heard my side, you might come to understand mine.”

She softens at your admission, having gotten carried away in defending herself. Nodding, she smiles gently. “I do.” She says. “And while you may not bear the Bridgerton surname, you do have us. Every Bridgerton will stand behind you, always.”

Against every fibre in your being, you believe her. Somehow you’ll always have this little family of yours, somehow you hope you’ll be okay…

#benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton x fem!reader #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x female reader

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mazeyphaedra · 3 months

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i enjoy rewatching kristen’s scene with buddy because like. imagine your locker just got tagged and ur trying to be diplomatic about it because you’re in a public hallway so you try to keep appearances right? you’re running for president! but the sticker was of ur rival’s party and not even for her campaign. anyway you ignore that because this pasty rotten proselytizer has just mentioned to you apparently absolving himself of whatever horror his spells have wrought in assigning agency to..god? by the raising of his hand in a twisted form of praise? and your brain is going a mile a minute trying to connect the hazy frayed edges of thought he’s leaking out (grades are of the material world)(i pray before during after football games we win)(helio doesn’t make mistakes, kristen)(helio’s holding onto us tight)(they’re all gonna go straight to hell) and you are looking into a mirror of your past and seeing the zeal simmering underneath his gall now. how dare he? really? (every cleric has to have some kinda deity, right?)(i don’t feel any control over life) and in your head you see yolanda, who severed ties to her divinity to teach with compassion and a fairness that must’ve been in itself holy, dead. (i don’t hold tight, ‘cause i’m in someone’s hand.) and you worry about bucky, about what he could become without you holding him tight (i’m happy to look after him.) and your muscles tense up as you smile politely, a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes stony, impassive, like the wall you’re building to keep this serpent from striking at those you love. (careful.) and you, ready to defend, say, i’ll fucking show you.

#kristen applebees #buddy dawn #fhjy #dimension 20 #fantasy high junior year #fhjy spoilers #d20 #uh oh!#IM SOOOOO NORMAL ABOUT HER

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chosok-amo · 5 months

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TIME TO CONFESS: RYOMEN SUKUNA

halloween night and you decided to go to the party that you're best friend(maybe)— Yuji Itadori has at his house and he has an older brother, a hot, sexy and handsome older brother, Sukuna. You're having a crush on him for as long as you can remember, and goddess of luck seems like it on your side that night.

olderbrother! sukuna, jealous!sukuna, virgin! reader, human sukuna, non-sorcerer, praise, degradation, names calling, chocking, hair-pulling, dirty talk, rough sex.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!

“y/n, you came,” the pink-haired boy shouted between the loud music. with a drink in his left hand, he came to you and hugged you. you smiled at him and hugged him back as you felt he kiss your cheeks. he looked at you up and down before tilting his head to the side, “devil, huh?” you are sure you can see lust in his eyes as he scans your body. yuji is wearing a tight, spiderman costume. you can see the outline of his dick, even from afar— he has a big and long dick, that's for sure. “you look good in this,” you smile as you run your hands on his stomach, feeling his hard-rock abs. he smirks at you before letting his hands that in your back go down to your ass, squeeze it as he pulls you closer until your tits touch his chest.

“come on, let's meet the others.”

he holds your waist as he guides you somewhere. his huge house is painted with halloween decoration. “it's so crowded in here, how many people do you invite?” you ask him as you look around. his place is filled with people you didn't know.

“i don't know exactly,” he laughed.

he brought you to the sofa where you could see all your friends. “lady, you look hot,” yuta came, both hands holding a drink you assume for maki, his girlfriend. you look at him up and down and send him a smirk, “you, yourself look hot too, not as hot as your girlfriend tho.” he rolled his eyes and chuckled lightly, “yeah, can't argue with you bout that.” he kissed you check before sit beside his girlfriend and hand her the drink. they both dressed as a couple— harley quinn and joker.

“come here,” Yuji sat himself beside a spike-haired boy known as megumi fushiguro and pulled you by hand to sit on his lap. his palm hand rested on your ass— squeeze it in tiny from time to time. for quite a long minutes you just sat on yuji's lap and talked with your friends. nobara hands you a glass of alcohol as he sits beside maki and looks at yuji. “have you met yuko ozawa?” she asked and lifted her eyebrows.

“who?” you asked and looked at the boy. he looked at you and nobara alternately before waving his hand in the air. “there's no reason for me to meet her,” he said which made the girl roll her eyes. “yuko ozawa was the girl from junior high school, yuji's ex,” megumi explain to you, you nodded your head as a respond. “she cheated on me, don't want to have anything to do with a cheater,” yuji added.

“yeah, I just pity her because she seems so desperate and causes a lot of drama, it's mental,” nobara remarked and took a sip of her alcohol. “you guys just wanna sit here and talk? you should go home instead,” inumaki said and went where people were dancing, followed by megumi and nobara— who literally had to drag the boy to dance with her. “we wanna go somewhere too,” Yuta said, smiling at you and yuji. his hand wrapped around maki's waist as the girl leaned her body to her boyfriend.

“please wear condoms, I don't want to clean your mess again, it's disgusting,” yuji begged. the black-haired boy's face became a crimson red and cleared his throat. “were not that messy,” he mumbled as you laugh, making his face become even redder in embarrassment. “we can make a mess as much as we want, you just sad because nobody's want to fuck you,” maki defend her boyfriend.

“come on baby, don't mind them.”

and the two of them lose between the crowd, leaving you with yuji. you shift your attention from the crowd to yuji as you feel his hands rub your tight smoothly. “wanna dance?” he asked, nearly whispering. he looked into your eyes for a moment before focusing on your parted lips. “i don't know, there are too many people,” you whispered back to him. he could feel your breath kiss his face. “maybe we can stay here for a while,” he mumbles on your lips before he kisses you.

you can taste the alcohol on his lips, vaguely. you corrected your sitting position, previously you were sitting crookedly on his lap, now you are sitting on his lap with your legs on the sides of his thighs, holding him in place. yuji runs his hand to your tight, moving them to your ass and squeezing them— rocking you back and forth on top of his lap. you can feel his dick getting harder under your cunt.

“fuck, y/n,” he moaned in your mouth.

you keep grinding on yuji's dick and hug his neck to pull him closer, losing your finger under his soft and fluffy locks. feeling your finger on his scalp makes yuji moan. he put his tongue in your mouth, lock them with yours. you can feel a bit of your saliva run down to your chin from the side of your mouth. your body feels hot because of the make-out because yuji's hands keep squeezing your ass and spanking them slightly, because of how hard you can feel his dick under your cunt.

“you are so fucking sexy,” he whispered as he pulls away from your sloppy make-out session and look the trace of saliva on your chin. he grabbed your neck and pulled you closer making you yelp in lust. he kisses your neck, sucks them and bites them— giving you a hickey. “yes baby, keep going,” he breath out on your neck, telling you to keep moving on his dick and make them wet with his precum and your wetness, lucky for him you decide not to wear any underwear.

you're so busy with yuji and your little world that you don't realize someone was watching you the entire time. from the moment you walk into the door until you are on yuji's lap, making the boy's dick harder each second— boring his eyes on your back wishing he could just make you despair.

“i'm gonna go get a drink, wait for me yeah?” you tell yuji, giving him a little kiss on the lips before getting up. “don't make me wait too long,” he spoke as you saw him run his hand to his throbbing dick. you can see a white stain on his costume and the way his dick looks more visible and longer than before. you feel your cunt twitching because of the sight. “I won't, pretty boy.” with that you waltz your way into the crowd, where all the alcohol is.

you put some candy in your mouth as you pour some alcohol into your plastic cup and suddenly a raspy and deep voice could be heard from behind you as the hot wind kisses your naked shoulder (your costume is the same as the picture). “fuck,” you muttered in surprised and snap your neck to find whoever does that to you. your eyes meet with red pupils, blue light flashing on the eyes, face covered with a tattoo, hair styles up showing his loving forehead. “sukuna,” you breathe out making the man smirk.

“doll face,” he teased.

he smirks, but you can clearly tell he's upset. his eyes darker than usual, his smirk looks more sinister rather than in a flirty way, and his hot breath kisses your face— heating your cheeks. ryomen sukuna, yuji's older brother, mean, arrogant yet so fucking hot older brother, also your crush for you don't know how long. he's wearing a priest costume— in slutty way that shows his tattoo and his eight-pack. ever since you lie your eyes on sukuna's shirtless form the first time you come to their place, all you could ever think about is how good it must feel to get fuck by him. you make it obvious, shamelessly showing your body with how little you let the fabric cover your body everytime you come over when you know he's around.

sukuna knows that he knows how desperate you are to want his dick to be inside your cunt. he likes the attention and effort you gave to him and seduces him. as much as an asshole he is, you're his little brother's best friend, someone who he cares about, so he doesn't do anything about it. at least not until he saw you walking through his front door, looking all sexy and gorgeous, and seeing your make-out session with yuji makes him jealous—he doesn't want to admit it— but all he's thinking about right now is fuck you to oblivion and remind you that he's the only man you want, he's the only one you want to get fucked by, not his brother.

that's why you are in your position right now, pinned against the wall with your leg wrapped around sukuna's waist, in his bedroom, forgetting yuji who was waiting for your return. his big hand in your ass to support your body so you don't fall. lips collided for dear life, doesn't care how you're about to lose your breath. you pull away only for him to grip your nape and smashed his lips back. “don't fucking move,” he growls, biting your lips in the process. you whimper when you feel a bit sting on your lips and that's only to encourage sukuna to kiss you more and put his tongue inside your mouth.

sukuna's left hand that was still under your ass moves upward, feeling your naked-soaked cunt. he smirks when you moan from his touch, leaving your lips to look at your face. “so you decided to come here to party, where you know there's gonna be a lot of drunk-loser and humping on my brother without wearing any underwear? are you really that desperate for a dick, y/n? hm?” his middle finger going up and down between your fold. “you're so fucking wet, it is because of my brother or me?” he looks into your eyes, still with a cocky smirk on his lips.

he tightened his grip on your neck as you refused to speak. “answer me when I fucking talk to you, y/n,” he commanded and shoved his two fingers inside your cunt roughly. “f-fuck sukuna,” you whimper and close your eyes for a second. “bet you can get wet easily no matter who he is since you're so fucking desperate for a dick,” he mocked you. “only for your dick,” you tell him, confidently locking your eyes with his. sukuna lifts his eyebrows after hearing your words.

“yeah?”

so he puts you down and sits on his chair— manspread. he pats his one tight, signalling you to sit there. “sit here and hump on my tight, show me how such a fucking slut you are,” his deep voice calls you. with no hesitation you sit on one of his laps and start to move your hips back and forth. your bent knee found themselves on sukuna's dick, rubbing it from the outside of his black pants. sukuna moans, throwing his head back for a second. one of his hands gripping harshly on your hips to support your moves.

he pulls the zipper of your dress down, leaving you with nothing but a fake wing on your back. he guides your hand to his dick— you can feel his erection. you pull his dick out of his pants and your eyes widen because of the sight in front of you. you sure that sukuna has a massive dick, more long and thick than yuji, but you don't expect it to be that big, clean and trimmed. he's probably nearly 11 inches and 5cm girth.

you shift from his dick to look at his face— which is already looking at you with a sly grin. he knows you've never seen a dick as massive as his and it boosts his confidence until it hits the roof. you wrap your little finger around his dick, spreading his precum around the head with your thumb. “fuck, y/n,” he breathed out. heart beating fast and lips dry, he lets you play with his dick while you keep humping on his tight, making a mess there. he feels hot, burning as he looks at your pretty face. his dick frantically fucking your fist as you keep on making a mess over his tight.

your tiny hands fit perfectly on his dick, but it's not enough for sukuna. he wants your mouth around his dick, begging and on your knees. “fuck y/n, your hand fit perfectly on my dick, wondering how your mouth feels sucking me— fuck, get on your knees, baby,” he can't take it anymore. you obey him and go down on the floor, on your knees as sukuna stands tall with his dick in Infront of your face. he pulls down his pants and throws it somewhere you don't pay any attention to.

sukuna looked at you and gave his dick a few strokes, grunting in between. his red eyes were half open, full of lust and danger— your strange addiction. he placed his free hand on top of your head as he smacked your lips with his dick. you look up to him with your big innocent eyes, quite the opposite of your state right now. sukuna's dick twitched in pain because of the sight. he squeeze his dick lightly before, “open your mouth, it's time to confess your sin, slut,” he demanded.

you stick your tongue out, touching his mushroom head with it, “forgive me, father, for i have sinned,” and with that slowly you put his dick into your mouth. again, sukuna cocking his head back with his dick touching with warmth and wetness of your mouth. his hand tightly grips your hair— holding you to stay in place as he tries to get used to your filthy mouth. and the sentence you just said to him wasn't giving him any help at all, only making him more hornier than before.

“fuck, fuck, fuck, y/n!”

he looked back at you as he slowly rocked his hips back and forth inside your mouth. you can only fit almost half of his dick, even your jaw hurts because of how thick his dick is. “open your mouth properly baby, I know your mouth can take me,” he moaned. you shake your head slightly and try to push him by his tight only for him to wrap your hair around his hands and push his dick further until the head touches your throat down. “ah, fuck, like that baby,” a load whimpers left sukuna's mouth and close his eyes— enjoying the feeling of his dick bottomed out inside your mouth. you hit his tight with your palm as you feel like you can't breathe and tears start to gather around your eyes.

he keeps on fucking your throat without any mercy, he doesn't care how tears keep streaming down your face, how red your face is because of lack of oxygen. all he ever thinks and cares about is how good his dick felt inside your mouth. you don't either, all you ever wanted is to feel sukuna to spit his cum and fill your throat. your tongue sends a burning sensation into sukuna's dick, playing with his vein and tip while he keeps on fucking your throat— making him cum faster than he usually is. “fuck, fuck, baby, ’m close, so good— ah..” and a second later you feel something exploded inside your mouth, leaving an aftertaste of sweet, salty and a little bit sour. you gladly swallow all of sukuna's semen without a second thought.

he waits for a few seconds until you swallow all of his cum before he drew his dick out and met with your cough as you tried to grasp some air. you pulled out your tongue to show him and he chuckled sinisterly and stroked your head gently, “you're such a good girl, y/n.” he gripped on your chin between his thumb and index finger and stuck his tongue inside your mouth to feel himself before kissing you roughly. “do you want me to fuck you, hm? want me to fuck you good, baby?” he mumbles on your lips and slaps your sloppy cunt. “yes, sukuna, yes.. fuck me,” you sound more desperate.

he smirked, “come here, slut.”

he carried you to the bed, laying you on your back with your feet at the edge. he threw your feet over his shoulder while pressing the other one to the bed, making your cunt wide open. he smiles as he looks at your cunt, feeling proud of himself to know how wet he gets you. “look at you, y/n, you're so fucking wet, i don't even get to use my hands. who knows yuji has such a slutty friend. or it's because you like me, hm?” feels like all of the blood from your body makes its way to your cheeks, making you look so innocent yet so dirty. so all this time, he knows you like him. you feel embarrassed which makes sukuna laugh a little.

“you make it obvious, with the way you dress and how much you try to impress me and to get you fucked—” he stopped for a while as he parts your fold to look at your holes clutch into nothingness. “you're doing a pretty good job since I always have to fuck my fist every time you come over with that slutty outfit of yours,” he put his two fingers inside your mouth, cover them with your saliva before sticking them inside your cunt, slowly going in an out. “gonna stretch this cunt before you get to taste my dick,” he talks to himself, looking at his hands before looking back at you. “you must be feeling grateful now you're about to get fucked by me.”

you moaned in pleasure but sukuna didn't let you have your fun for a long time as he collected his finger. you cry in dissatisfaction and narrow your eyes at him. “be patient baby. I'm gonna give you something more than a finger, I'll get you pregnant, gonna fuck you until you can't walk,” he pulls you by the neck to kiss you roughly. his hands went down to your cunt to wet his palm with your juice, use it as a lube for his dick. he rub his dick to your cunt as you mewl. “please, sukuna, fuck me. i want your dick inside my pussy so bad, please,” you begged on his lips, between the kiss.

“yeah? you sure?”

you nodded, “yes, been waiting for this dick for too long.”

he smiles and pushes you back to the bed. “such an impatient little whore.” and without further ado, he thrust his dick into your cunt slowly, he wants to feel how good your cunt is for the first. “oh fuck, sukuna,” you choked and your back arch as sukuna's dick fill you. “so tight, shit. I never knew you were going to be this tight, baby,” he growled— feel your gummy wall hug his dick perfectly. soon the loud claps of your skins touching reverberate through the wall of the room. the sound of skin slapping along with your screams made sukuna content.

“fuck y/n, pussy so good— ah!”

he keeps pounding his dick inside you, hitting your sweet spot every time. the second the sight of his dick bulges on your stomach, he puts his hand there and presses it, finds his dick moving under his palm. “if know your cunt gonna be this good I'm gonna fuck you sooner than wasting my time on fucking my fist.” pleasant clouded your sense and you can't think of anything other than the pleasure sukuna gave you. your eyes looking at him with temptation glint, half closed, crimson cheeks, tits bounce and with black wings on your back, looking like an angle, a slutty one. there's no better sight than this for sukuna.

“ ’s good, kuna, fuck— me, ahh..”

loud music from the outside but both of you could hear your moan, whimpering and the sound of your skin slapping each other. you yelp in surprise when sukuna suddenly flips your body— making him face your back, putting you in doggy style. he pulls you by feet making you stand while the rest of your body is still on the bed. again he rolls his hips back to your cunt, bottomed out. in your current position, you can feel all of his dick inside you. “oh fuck! too much, kuna, i can't—” you try to pull yourself away only for sukuna to tuft your hair, jacking your head back. he uses his other hand to grip your throat, and squeeze it gently. he pulls you closer until your back is a few centimetres away from his chest.

“shh baby, I know, i know,” he whispered in your ear. hot breath kissing your neck and start thrusting into your cunt. he let your hair go to cover your mouth as the choked sob leaves from between your lips. “so good for me, baby, taking me so well, squeeze me y/n— fuck, yes, like that.. ah! good girl, oh fuck. my dick is better than yu ji, right? tell me baby.” a moan and wail and grunt soon fill the room, again. a spank kiss your ass as sukuna demand an answer from you, “yes, ’s good, feels so good inside me, better than yuji— ah, fuck,” you let out a cry leaving sukuna satisfied. you can no longer feel the pain but pleasure. sukuna's dick keeps on bullying into your overstimulated cunt. you no longer thinking about yuji while the boy is outside of the room— looking for you.

the door to the sukuna bedroom swings open, revealing yuji standing there. sukuna gave him a sly grin as he kept on pounding at you but you didn't realize, too deep into the pleasure that sukuna gave you. yuji closed the door and locked it before he found his way to in front of you, on the bed. you open your eyes as you feel something touching your lips only for you to meet with naked yuji, on his knees in front of you with his dick in your mouth. his usually bright brown eyes now looking dark, clouded with lust and desire. “sucks, y/n.” he commands you. without waiting for you, he fuck his way into your throat, choking you. a loud relief moan leaves his lips. “ah fuck!”

he pulls your hair, “you're so mean leaving me out there while you were here, getting fucked by my brother. I didn't know my best friend is a dirty little whore. how about you take us at the same time, princess? since you're so fucking hungry for dick and my dick wasn't enough for you,” he ramble. who knows someone as sweet as yuji has a dirty mouth. sukuna on the other hand enjoys the sight of you sucking his brother.

and by the heart you know you're gonna have a long night in front of you. and you don't think the two brothers gonna go easy on you either. let's just say you have the best night you could ever imagine.

#ryomen sukuna #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk smut #itadori smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #yuji itadori x reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna ryomen smut #yuji itadori smut #jujutsu kaisen imagine #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #gojo satoru smut #geto suguru smut #toji fushiguro smut

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sanakimohara · 5 months

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My friend just introduced me to a new thing

Bully I.N, he’s just super mean to you, pushes you around, pulls your hair, slaps and gropes you. But then when people are around he’s super nice and the compete opposite of what he just did to you.

And he’s only mean to you, no one else. He’d just randomly slap you or when sitting down just puts his hands in your pants, and duh don’t forget the degrading.

I think it plays into people seeing him as innocent and nice when in reality he’s kinky and fucked up

Just an idea for you if you want 🧡🥰

“TEAR YOU APART” Y. J.

You and your friend are masterminds, love. 🖤 Now I want to do a series based on this idea! :) but I’ll settle with writing a snippet prequel for the time being… 🖤

[ MDNI ]

++++++

Bully Jeongin starts his campaign against you with name calling -and not the cliche creative kind that people can laugh at. No, he prefers to label you with his own perversions. Taking every chance he can get to whisper in your ear, “How’s my little bitch doing today, hm?..” “Is my slut sad already?…” “You’re such an attention whore. It’s pathetic..” “Where do you think you’re going dumb bunny…” At first you snap back insults but overtime his consistent belittling makes you less angry and increasingly compliant. You’d never admit to him that your resentment was slowly twisting into a form of pining. Your pride wouldn’t allow it…

Bully Jeongin elevates to blackmailing you when the opportunity arises. Pictures and videos of you changing, texts or risqué pictures between you and your previous crush that he’s miraculously gotten his hands on, and maybe even a voice note of you touching yourself that he coerced you into making as ‘punishment’ for even thinking about another guy. “You wouldn’t want him to find out about all these inappropriate pictures you took for me, right?” He had you cornered, faking concern as he held up his phone for you to see. You face paled as pictures of you undressing showed on the screen. How’d he even get those? Why did he have them? “J-Jeongin I never took those! N-not for you, anyway…and you know that!” You try to defend yourself but panic starts to set in as you consider what Jeongin would do to keep you under his heel. He grins, shutting his phone off before slipping it into his pocket as he leans in closer to you. His eyes bare into yours, swirling with mischief as he taunts you, “Who do you think people will believe? Me? Or some whiny little slut who can’t keep her legs closed?…” Your heart sinks as his threat echoes in your brain. “You wouldn’t…” “Oh, you know I would. Don’t act so surprised dumb bunny…”

Bully Jeongin knows you go to your classes/meetings early, follows you there when he can, and uses every minute alone with you to do his worst. No one thinks to come check on you. No one even considers the notion that you’re being groped and slapped around endlessly -up against a wall, on his lap, or bent over a desk. You try to scream or cry but Jeongin learns how to silence you rather quickly. Sinking his fingers into your mouth works best in his opinion, but he’s a fan of gagging you with your own panties too. Either way you’re left panting and nearly in tears as he takes advantage of you. He’s careful not to slap you hard enough to leave a noticeable mark, all the while cooing vulgar praises in your ear as you whine from the stinging pain that sears your cheek, and inevitably your ass gets the same treatment. “What’d I tell you about wearing anything under your skirt, little slut?” He slaps your backside again, harder than before, and you whine into his hand that’s clasped over your mouth, shivering as he snakes his free hand under your skirt to rip the lace fabric off your lower half. The cold air hitting your dripping cunt makes you groan softly and you pray he doesn’t notice the effect his torture has on you, but Jeongin knows…he’s known for a while. That’s why he has no remorse for what he does to you, feels no sympathy as he tucks your panties into his pocket, and is all smiles when he finally lets you go the moment people gradually start to fill the room.

Bully Jeongin is incredibly sweet to everyone but you. Greeting them with the kindest smile -one you’ve never experienced in earnest. His charm resonates through each interaction he has with the staff and close friends. It amazes you how cruel he can be behind closed doors but deep down you wait for those moments….secretly craving them. In those fleeting pockets of time he’s true to his darkest tendencies, fully himself, and in some sick way you begin to believe he only feels comfortable around you to be just that….his truest self. That’s the cynical logic keeping you from snapping, admitting defeat, and openly confessing your crush on him. He’d probably laugh at your stupidity if you did…

Bully Jeongin claims you’re one of his ‘sweetest’ friends when someone asks about your connection to him. He’ll flash a smile your way, placing a firm hand on your lower back to bring you close to his side, and stare down into your soul. He’s daring you to tell the truth, playing with your psyche without even trying, and he’ll win the game so easily that it makes your head spin. Everybody loves him, wants to be with him, but little do they know he’s got you to play with. Why would he pay any mind to anyone else when you were such a familiar, willing, and easy target? You don’t deny him when slips a hand into your panties under the desk/table. You stand obediently when he reaches between your thighs to cup your mound, playing with your soaked folds as you try to focus on doing your job/homework. You moan so timidly into his ear every-time he ruts his hardened cock against your ass, which unconsciously pushes back into him for more, and he’ll let you until you’re interrupted or he comes undone in his pants. The push and pull between you two is finite. He likes it that way and so it’ll stay that way.

Bully Jeongin gets paired/assigned with you for projects/comeback prep more often than you think is possible. You can’t fathom how you end up partners on almost every project/task. Even if you are assigned to work with someone else/another member he still weasels his way in. Sometimes you’re sure he threatens/bribes your current partners off to have your full attention -which is true but you don’t need to know that, now do you…Jeongin surprisingly has morals when it comes to anyone else speaking badly about you. He hates it and will put a stop to it as soon as it starts. Why? He’s the only one allowed to treat you the way he does. That’s why. “….don’t say another fucking word about Y/n. She’s mine. Understand?”

Bully Jeongin loves to make you ride his thigh when you’re supposed to be studying/working. He doesn’t care that someone might hear or see you. He cares even less that you’d rather focus without being horny. “I didn’t ask what you preferred to do…” he mumbles against your lips, one hand on your hip to control how fast you pass your bare cunt over his leg, and the other keeping his phone steady as he records the whole time. You beg him not to, blushing in embarrassment as you hear his camera shutter, “Jeongin….d-don’t..” you half whine half moan as he snaps another picture. “I’ll do what I want. You just keep riding me like a good cumslut…” “M’ not…a cumslut…” you scowl in disapproval at the pet name but the expression fades to a dazed one as his hand on your hips travels down to your ass. He grasps it tight, giving the tender flesh a harsh slap in response to your defiance, “It’s cute that you think that. If you weren’t you wouldn’t be making a mess on my thigh right now and moaning like one..” his smile doesn’t match the darkness in his tone and you swallow a whimper at the contrasting factors. The heat in your core begins to unravel with every disgusting insult his gentle voice spills. “Getting off like this is all you deserve dumb bunny.” “Feels so much better than touching yourself, doesn’t it?” “Why don’t you smile at the camera when you cum. Yeah, just like that. Show ‘em’ how bad you want my cock..” He laughs softly as his words bring tears to your eyes, little droplets trickling down your cheeks as you come undone on his thigh, and try your best to smile through the riveting sensation.

‘click’ he snaps another picture of you, making sure to play with your clit to drag out your high as he does, and your smile morphs into the perfect expression of pleasure.

“Look at you being such a pretty whore for me…” Jeongin smirks, rubbing your clit faster to draw more reactions from you, and succeeding much to your dismay.

‘click’

“Picture perfect slut…”

++++++++

This was quick and sweet but like I said…I’m considering making it into a mini series. 🖤 (I literally have like 4 currently going on rn…omg…)

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

I wanna lick the longest, sloppiest, sluttiest stripe up his abs/tummy. Like the urge is so real rn… 🖤 Credits to creator 🖤

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astrologydayz · 7 months

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ASTRO SEXOLOGY NOTES🔞 - NATAL CHART2

VENUS/EROS IN PISCES/AT 12, 24° = Pisces degree points 2 someone being sexually attracted 2 "lost souls", they want someone who's willing 2 let them be their saviour✨. They could also hold deep thoughts about being saved by a lover themselves, and the idea of "escaping" 2 their "happily ever after". Sex them up with how artistic/poetic u can be. That shit always works. They need someone who's willing 2 show them a kind heart, while also fulfilling their deepest desires/sexual urges.

VENUS/EROS IN SCORPIO/AT 8, 20° = Scorpio degree points 2 someone wanting a lover that's more sexually charged in private, and someone who's willing 2 give up their "thought patterns", as they can be a little "obsessive" with wanting to know everything, or them investigating when they feel the other persons sexual attraction "dying down a little bit"🧯🔥. These people can easily find your weak spots, so they won't disappoint. They need someone who's willing2 give them their soul, as they do the same💀😍.

VENUS/EROS IN LEO/AT 5, 17, 29° = Leo degree points 2 wanting 2 be praised all the time, and a need 2 praise, if the other person does good🐕. They want someone who worships them, puts them on a pedestal👑. They need someone who knows that they're not 2nd place, but always 1st place. They put passion, & sexual attraction/admiration at the top of the list, of things they NEED, 2want to get sexual with somebody. They need platonic, romantic, &sexual flirting from people all around, 2 get that "confidence in", people telling them how fine they look/how sexy they are🌟🌟.

Moira asteroid (638) conjunct 5th house can show fated romances/affairs throughout life, or with one special person💜.

A MAN’S Venus in Leo/1st house is mostly all about themselves in bed, they want 2 get off first and then maybe, if you're lucky, they'll finish u off2. No hate, I just don't fuck with it 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨.

Black Moon Lilith conjunct Vertex in a MAN’S chart shows that he's meant 2 have fated experiences, that puts him out of the "conventional". Like him dating/seeing younger women&getting shit4it, or him being "thrown" into situations where he has 2 "defend himself", because of the women he's in a sexual relationship/romantic relationship with🙄. These fated connections/experiences is what turns him into who he's supposed 2 be - someone who doesn't give a fuck about anyone else's opinion - BML energy🖕🖕💜.

Medusa asteroid (149) conjunct ASC in a WOMAN’S chart will make herself look "tempting", or "available" in front of a man, but as soon as he looks or tries 2 hit on her, she'll degrade him. "U disgusting man, or "u pig"!! "I didn't look at u, or made any attempt 2 flirt with u, whatsoever"😂.

A MAN WITH Venus, Mars and Saturn in Capricorn = Ultimate dom. They'll make you scream their name over, and over again, & won't stop until he made you cum multiple times. He's REALLY sexually experienced, when he reach his older years, like from 30&up.

Lust asteroid : 4386 conjunct Jupiter = crazy sexual needs. Even if they've had crazy sex all night = they can go again the next day, all day😵‍💫😲🤣🤣 Mars in Virgo/8th house in Virgo in a MAN'S chart typically finds "younger people" 2 be way more sexual attractive, than people at their own age. They're attracted 2 the feeling of "feeling young", while being with a young woman/man❤️. They want someone they can have an insane sexual attraction2, while also being able 2 "teach" the other person a lot in the sexual department. Them wanting young/inexperienced women.

Neptune conjunct Black moon Lilith can make you so damn ethereal. Especially if you got Mars or Venus aspecting it 2. people want 2 rip your clothes off but r afraid 2 even say hi 2 u😭😭😭. Afraid you'll reject/embarrass them.

💜💜💜💜 Look at aspects from Venus (the planet of love&attraction), & Mars (the planet of sex), 2c what u like, & what u need sexually💋.

👅👅👅 Mars in Gemini changes their mind a lot when it comes 2 sex. One day they like 2 dominate, & the next they like 2 be submissive. It really comes down to how they feel on that particular day. &it makes sense. Mars (planet of sex&) in Gemini - Duality. A MAN’S Venus/Mars in Leo wants praises from u. They want 2 hear how good they are, and amazing they are in bed. If u don't, they can get bored of u, and seek somebody else - get their "needs" taken care of by another person👀 👀.

If your 8th house ruler is in your 8th house = sex can so transformative for u but you'll probably only hookup with a few people throughout your life tho. Only having sex with people you feel a deep soul connection with.

🍆🍆 A MAN'S Mars/Venus/in 11th house in Aquarius is FREAKYYYYY, they'll try anything with their partner. MOSTLY ON VIDEO/cam🙃🙃🙃 PERIOD.

A WOMAN'S Venus in Pisces/8th/12th house is the "I'll do anything I can 2 satisfy your needs, before my own". I love these placements, they want their partner 2 feel all the pleasure and doesn't even think about their own.

Taurus Mercury/Mars LOVES 2 be neck kissed, damn. Just go wild there and they'll go crazy 4 u, I promise 👄👅. MEN with Mars in Taurus/Taurus in 8th house = attracted 2 women that always looks "beautiful", "sexy, but classy", "ocd around looks", "model looking". They want a gorgeous woman, that can "cater" 2 their most sensual needs 🫦💦. Find some whipped cream/ice cream + your tongue&his body = go loca. If he doesn't go crazy, (u probably have the wrong chart😂🤡). Webb asteroid (3041) conjunct/trine/sextile/quintile BML can indicate doing "Web porn", "only fans", "showing yourself off, in a "sexual, provocative way online"🧯💨🔥.

Mars/Venus in Gemini/3rd house loves using toys! But they especially love2 use their hands&fingers!! They can also love oral👅.

REPOST OF SOME OF MY POSTS FROM MY OLD BLOG/SOME NEW COMMENTS

THANKS4READING💘 Appreciate u, always!

#astro community #astro notes #astrology #black moon lilith #astro observations #astrology notes #asteroids #venus #birth chart #mars astrology

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fantastic-nonsense · 1 year

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My hottake is that people are trying to fit Lockwood into character archetypes he doesn't fit, because they see "traumatized teen boy with a big ego and a passive death wish" and go "oh. emotionally unavailable asshole character" when that's.....not actually the character we're shown.

He's constantly praising Lucy and George. He's often the first one to try and apologize when he gets into a fight with them. The second he clocks Lucy as a "safe person" he becomes super touchy and holds her hand constantly. He compliments George's cooking. He's visibly proud of the people he cares about and publicly defends them on multiple occasions. He repeatedly asks his team if they're okay and tries to get them to open up when they're having issues. He makes an obvious, conscious effort to repeatedly tell Lucy he believes in her and wants her to stay at Portland Row. He smiles and jokes and laughs around with them on a pretty regular basis. He's also emotionally aware enough to tell Lucy "the reason I haven't talked about this subject with you is because it's relevant my childhood, which I don't like to talk about because it's pretty traumatic" when she questions him ahout Jessica's door, and he's kind of astonishingly open about his trauma with Lucy and George despite generally being unwilling to actually talk about the details.

And this applies to characters other than Lucy and George, too. He compliments Kipps' team during the graveyard fight and clearly respects Flo, for example. He's kind to Winkman's son, is generally polite to his clients, and is affected by the death of the undercover agent to the point of having a panic attack. It's pretty clear he cares deeply about the people around him even as he tries to push those closest to him away so they won't mourn him if (when) he dies.

Like yeah, Lockwood has an ego the size of Manhattan, has enough trauma to fill a boat, and is worryingly flippant about the worth of his own life, but he's not the Asshole With a Heart of Gold archetype. He's not cruel or deliberately mean (at least, not to anyone who's not Kipps). He's friendly and pretty kind to most people most of the time, and he openly cares about his team. And it's a little weird that I'm seeing so many people talk about him like he's not.

#lockwood and co #lockwood meta #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #george karim #hashtag not all egotistical and emotionally constipated teenage boys are the same!

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drakoneve · 9 months

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A Dragon's Wrath

Request: hello hello, how are u? Idk if u write for Harwin Strong, but I'm obsessed with this man, so if you're not taking requests for him, forgive me for being rude. So I wanted to make a request where the reader is the younger sister of Rhaenyra Targaryen, also daughter of Aemma and Viserys. She married Strong, and lives a dream life with him (they love each other very much, so please, Rhaenyra's children are not his 🫠) and the legitimacy of their children was questioned, of course the queen would never imagine that Harwin had a birthmark, which none of his brothers inherited from Lyonel, he being the only one to have it and ALL THE CHILDREN OF HARWIN AND THE PRINCESS HAVE THAT SAME BRAND, JUST LIKE THE FATHER'S. Maybe I went on too long and was stupid, sorry, you can do whatever comes to your brilliant mind, I just really wish the legitimacy of the children of the OC was proved by legal means and gave no right to be questioned even by the queen. Thank you for your attention, I understand if you don't want to do it 🤍.

pairing: harwin strong x targ!fem!reader

word count: 3k

warnings: mentions of childbirth, alicent being snakey

a/n: first harwin fic, harwin girlies lmk what you think!! for the sake of this fic, Rhae's children have Targaryen silver hair

In all the years the pair were married, King Viserys and Queen Aemma were blessed by the Mother with only two healthy, living babes. First born has been your elder sister Rhaenyra, whom you followed two years later.

Growing up the two of you remained close through your lessons and dragon riding, but as Rhaenyra grew older she would end up spending more and more time with her lady in waiting Alicent Hightower. Rhaenyra and Alicent being two of the only other girls your age in the Red Keep and their refusal to have anyone join them in their activities, you felt somewhat dejected by your sister's budding friendship.

This is what led you to find solace in the Red Keep's training yards. Day after day you watched knights, and knights in training, battle it out in the yard while you worked on your studies. It was there in the yard you saw him for the first time- your future husband, Ser Harwin Strong.

At the time you had no idea you would end up marrying him, of course, but you should have.

You'd heard all about Ser Harwin Breakbones, son of Lyonel Strong, one of your father's most loyal council men. Harwin's reputation truly preceded him and was rightfully earned.

You hadn't noticed it at the time, but you'd abonded your books and parchments in the stands by your supervising Septa as you approached the rail separating the stands and the training yard in an attempt for a clearer view.

Harwin stood taller than his opponents, shoulders back, sword in hand ready to defend himself. He watched his opponents carefully, calculating their next move. His short brown curls were halfway pulled back out of his face with a tie, exposing Harwin's jawline, much to your own enjoyment.

That afternoon you watched Harwin take down man after man without so much as a proper blow to his own body. He wielded his sword as if it were an extension of his arm in fluid, rushing movements.

When he had finally finished for the evening you applauded him, finally grabbing his attention as he had held yours.

"You are quite the swordsman, Ser Harwin!" you call out to him. "I feel much better knowing there are knights as skilled as you protecting my home."

Harwin grinned largely at your praise, twirling his sword in his hand for show as he approached the rail you supported yourself on. "I mean only to ensure you are safe at all times, my princess."

You smiled down at him now that he was almost right below you. "Well I have no doubts of your capabilities, Ser. I have a feeling you will do great things here, should you wish."

"You are too kind, princess," he chuckles. Then he looks up at the sky, towards the sun on it's way to set. "It is getting quite late, princess. Shall I escort you back to your chambers?"

The excitement and hopefulness in his face brought butterflies to your stomach.

"I would like nothing more, Ser."

After that night it was scarce the two of you weren't side by side, which all but pushed your fathers to wed the two of you.

Now you stood in those same stands, watching Harwin in the yard yet again, but now he's joined by your two eldest sons. Maevor has just passed his tenth and second name day, and Daeragon his ninth. Your two youngest babes, however remained with you and your maid and close friend, Malina.

Malina had first been assigned to you after your marriage to Harwin, and she'd stood loyally by your side as you birthed all of your children.

Malina's elder brother Ellion, a knight of the City Watch, stood closeby on the order of Harwin. He'd been one of Harwin's best men as you'd heard him compliment the younger knight on many occasions in the past. Being a Targaryen princess and wife of the Lord Commander in such uncertain times in the house of the dragon could be dangerous, and Harwin meant only to protect you and your babes.

Your first daughter, eldest of your month old twins, Naelora cooed softly in your arms as she played with the loose sleeve ends of your dress. You indulged her for a moment, raising your arm to lift the sleeve from her reach to tease her.

She gurgles in laughter, stretching her chubby little arms to grasp your sleeve once more.

The moment is over by the approach of Queen Alicent's lady in waiting, Talya.

"My apologies, Princess," Talya bows to you first. "But the Queen has requested Malina's presence for this afternoon."

Why would the queen need Malina specifically? Surely she could find another maid within the Keep to aid her?

Malina looks to you, pale brown eyes silently asking to stay. This isn't the first time something like this has happened, of course. After giving birth to your second son Daeragon, Queen Alicent began requesting Malina's presence more often.

Still sore from your labors, Harwin had taken the day off to aid you and watch over Maevor to allow you to rest.

You watched happily from your spot on the bed as Harwin held little Daeragon, to introduce him to his elder brother. Maevor, a boy of three years, stood as high as he could on his toes to get a peek over Harwin's bulk of an arm to get a glimpse of his brother.

Then your chamber doors open and Malina returns to your side after serving the queen all day. She approaches the foot of your bed, hands clasped together in front of her with her eyes cast slightly downwards.

"Malina, you needn't worry about me," you begin to dismiss her kindly. "I'm sure the Queen-"

But Malina shakes her head, brown curls following her, still refusing to meet your gaze. "I need to speak with you, Princess. And you, Lord Harwin, in privacy."

You share a concerned look with Harwin, who's joyfulness has been replaced with worry. In the time she's served you Malina had never been afraid to look you in your eyes.

He wastes no time escorting Maevor to his chambers just off your own, and placing little Daeragon in his crib next to your side of the bed. Harwin returns and stands dutifully on the other side of you as if protecting you.

"What is it?" you ask, and pat the bed in front of you for Malina to sit.

Malina makes no move to sit on your bed. "My princess," her voice wavers nervously. "I have served your for near half a decade now, and I know you to be the most true and kind person I have ever had the pleasure of serving-"

"Malina," Harwin interrupts sternly. "Speak it plain, what have you heard of my wife?"

Your heart thudded hard in your chest as you instinctively reached for Harwin's hand. He intertwined his fingers with your in an attempt to comfort you.

Malina takes in a deep breath before finally looking up to meet your gaze. "Queen Alicent requested my presence after your labors today for questioning."

"Questioning?" you tilted your head slightly. "About what?"

"Your sons," she answered swiftly. "She... She wanted to know if this babe looked like Harwin or..."

Harwin pulled his hand from yours, placing it on the hilt of his sword. "Or who, Malina?"

"Ellion," Malina whispers. "The Queen seems to believe that you spend too much time with Ellion, princess. She asked if I knew of any relations between the two of you, but I swore to her you are deathly loyal and would never-"

You move from your spot on the bed to bring yourself to stand. Harwin aids you as you steady yourself, then reach for Malina's forearm.

"You needn't explain yourself to me, Malina," you assure her. "I know you to be true to me, and you are one of the kindest ladies I know. You should go, retire for the night. We shall do the same."

Malina apologizes the whole way out your chamber doors despite your assurances. Harwin begins to strip his armor as you settle yourself back into bed.

Daeragon's crib sat just off the side of your bed, close enough for you to have a view of the newborn's little face.

Harwin soon joins your side clad in his nightclothes. You can feel his gaze on you, but you refuse to meet his gaze. Emotions ran rampant through you. You knew it must be the strain and high emotions of you and your new babe surviving the day, but you couldn't stop the rush.

It's when the tears begin to fall from your lilac eyes that Harwin wraps you up in his arms and pulls you back against him.

"My love," he cooes. "Sweet girl, do not worry yourself with the opinion of a misguided, jealous woman."

He raises his right hand to show off the inside of his right wrist, showing off the small, discolored patch of skin he inherited from his father, Lord Lyonel. A small, almost missable, seemingly insignificant patch of skin both Maevor and Daeragon had inherited.

Harwin leans in close, placing his lips against the shell of your ear. "We know I have fathered your sons, my love. Do not worry yourself with this, it is not worth it."

"You're right, husband," you hum, settling into your husband's arms for the night. "I'm just glad he's here, and healthy."

He kisses your temple softly. "You did that. You made him the healthy babe he is."

As you promised Harwin that night, you did your best to ignore the rumors pursued by Alicent. In the years following Daeragon's birth you'd heard more whispers within the court questioning your son's parentage, though you said nothing.

You tried your best to pay them no mind, other days they really got to you. But for now you simply obliged to the queen's wishes.

"Ser Ellion," you motioned your friend forward with one hand. He looked much like his sister as they shared the same nose, and brown curly hair, though Ellion's eyes were an elegant green. Still, no man in the Seven Kingdoms could come close to Harwin in your eyes.

"Would you mind taking my sweet Raemor from your sister? I'm afraid I cannot tend to both babes at once."

Ellion nods and leans down slightly to make a peaceful transition from his sister's arms. He wore an awkward grin on his face as he cradles the blanket wrapped babe the best he could in a full suit of armor. "It is an honor, Princess. Though I'm not certain he will be comfortable against such steel."

Malina bows and takes Talya's arm in her own. You know Malina's dislike for the woman, and you can only guess she's done this to ensure Talya is led away from you and your family.

You shake your head in response to Ellion yet keep your attention on your daughter in your arms. "It is no issue, Harwin holds them in his armor every day. He has with each of them."

A moment passes in silence and you look up to your husband and eldest children. Maevor's brown curls are just long enough on the top to be tied back while leaving some down thus his hair is relatively tame. Daeragon's, however, is tousled and absolutely untame.

Both boys are breathing heavier now, their cheeks flushed. But the beautiful, pure look of excitement on their faces melted your heart. They knew their father was Lord Commander of the City Watch, and that Harwin worked hard for his family at his very important job, and they treasured their father for it.

After taking them to see Harwin train with some of the new recruits of the City Watch two fortnights ago had been a mistake on your part for the boys had not shut up about training themselves. At first you had been hesitant, of course other Targaryen princes had been taught to fight years before your boys, but you were afraid of the things they might encounter so instead you encouraged them to spend time in the libraries and their respective dragons.

As a result the boys were extremely well read and years ahead of their pupils in their studies. Maevor is practically fluent in Valyrian now, and Daeg is not far behind.

Their insistent pleading had wore on you though, and you gave in to them with Harwin's reassurance he would personally oversee their training. In the end, Maevor and Daeg's immediate joy at being granted permission made it worth it in the end.

Harwin and the boys were cleaning their training gear and putting it away.

Ellion clears his throat, pulling your attention from your family. "I fear something is happening, Princess."

"What do you mean?" you ask, standing from your seat and brushing your skirts with one hand.

"I have been approached twice now," he explains carefully, watching who was sat in the immediate area. The closest people sat on the complete opposite of the training yard in those stands. "Once by a fellow knight, and then by Talya herself. I only mention this as a warning, Princess."

Harwin and the boys are nearly there and you don't want the boys to hear such slander.

"Thank you, Ellion," you force a smile to give him. "And I apologize for what has been whispered around court these last years, but I plan now to make it right."

Harwin approaches you then, slinking one arm around your waist as he presses a kiss to your temple. "Come, my love, the boys need to bathe and our littlest ones must be ready for their nap."

Maevor perks up, "Mother, may I carry Naelora back to your chambers?"

Your hearts melts at the question, Maevor ever the doting older brother. You grant your son permission, gently reminding him to hold her head carefully.

"And I shall take Raemor from you, Ellion. I thank you for your services for today."

He bows respectfully, "Tis my duty, and an honor."

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Once the twins are down for their naps and the older boys off to the bathhouse with Malina you informed Harwin of everything that had transpired this afternoon while he trained with the boys.

His thick brows furrowed almost immediately, angre written upon his face. Harwin had shed his armor by now, settling for more comfortable leathers for the evening. His sword however, stayed attached to his hip with one hand gripping the hilt.

"I am sick of hearing your name and reputation tarnished by fools!" Harwin seethes, angrier than you've ever seen him. "I have half a mind to slay them all down for even thinking such things of our children, of you."

You shake your head softly, approaching him to cup his face. You press your forehead against his own, something you've always done to comfort him.

"I have a plan, my dutiful husband," you assure him. "I happen to have a wonderful relationship with my father by law, if you must know. And I just so happen to know that a Small Council meeting starts in mere minutes."

Harwin eases a little, but now he's wrought with confusion.

"What have you planned, my love?"

You smile mischievously and press a sweet kiss to your husband's lips. "Just you wait husband, I first require our Maevor."

The boys are back from their baths by now as you can hear them bustling about Daeragon's chambers, which is the adjoining room to your own.

You knock before you enter as you always do, to the sight of your boys on Daeg's bed, books sprawled open before them.

"What have we there, byka zaldrīzoti (little dragons)?" you ask as you join them on the bed.

Daeg pulls the leather bound book to cover his lap to show you. "The Histories of Old Valyria!" he chimes. "Maevor was reading it to me in Valyrian."

You stroke Daeg's plush cheek with one hand, still able to see the babe he used to be in his face, and take Maevor's hand in your other.

"He's smart, your brother," you 'whisper' to Daeragon. "I would study hard, my Prince."

Maevor breaks his hand away to rustle his brother's brown curls. "Muña's teasing, Daeg. You are smarter now than I was your age."

You swoon, heart melting at the relationship between your boys. "Oh my sweet Maev," you kiss his temple. "Might I borrow you for a awhile, I have something important to discuss with the Small Council and I need your help."

Maevor's brown eyes widened slightly, "Of course, mother."

"Have no fear, sweet boy, I have a plan."

And you sure did. Once you explained what you could to Maevor while sparing his innocence best you could, he'd been more than willing to join you.

You squatted down to be closer to your son's level, Harwin by your side. "You are special, Maevor," you explain to him. You grab Harwin's right hand and Maevor's to put them side by side. Both birthmarks were near identical save for Harwin's being larger and slightly darker than his son's. "Each of my babes have this mark, all from Harwin, who inherited it from your grandsire, Lyonel. Do you understand?"

He nods, but says nothing. Harwin crouches down next to you, reaching to cup his eldest son's face.

"I wish we did not have to burden you with such a task, my boy," Harwin admits grimly. "I want you to know we are only doing this because we love you children, and I love your muña too much to let people speak of her in such a way any longer."

So the three of you set off, accompanied by Ellion as Malina had stayed behind to watch the twins and Daeragon.

Despite the Kingsguard outside the meeting room of the Small Council, you march right past them and push the doors open yourself.

Each member of the council turns to you now silenced. Otto sat up straighter in his seat as he looked towards his daughter. Alicent looked shocked to see the group of you, and you noted her visible nervousness.

Lyonel stands and comes to Harwin's side, demanding answers most likely. Harwin begins whispering in his father's ear, explaining the situation.

"Sister," Rhaenyra stands, hand placed over her round stomach. "What is wrong?"

You cross your arms over your chest, eyes blazing as you glare at the Hightowers at the table. "Since the birth of my Daeragon I have endured vile slanders against not only myself, but my marriage, and every one of my children."

Alicent shifts uncomfortably in her seat.

"Princess," Otto pokes in. "I can assure you-"

"Assure what?" you snap, slamming down on the table to lean towards the Hand. "Alicent has been the one to pull my ladies from me just after giving birth to insinuate my babes have been fathered by knight of the City Watch who is not my husband. Even now, a month after having my twins, I am approached with more blasphemy. No more."

You usher Maevor forward, who happily extends his right arm before you have to ask. Harwin joins you, followed by Lyonel, both of whom put out their wrists as well.

Alicent's mouth widens in shock before she grits her teeth. Even Larys' wears a look of shock as he checks his own wrists, coming up with nothing.

"I am tired of my children being put under scrutiny," you say finally. "And of my loyalty to my husband being questioned. Now, if you all do not mind, I would like to enjoy the rest of the day with my family undisturbed."

You step back from the table to leave when Rhaenyra wraps you up in a hug. "I am so sorry, sister," she whispers.

You assure her with a simple kiss to the side of her head before reaching for Maevor's hand.

The boy is practically bouncing on his feet as the two of you make your way back to your chambers, both Harwin and Ellion following close behind.

"She is very scary, your wife," Ellion admits to Harwin lowly. "I would to want to be on the receiving end of her wrath."

He only chuckles, "No, nor would I."

1K notes · View notes

gavisfanta · 1 month

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Hello, could you write a Gavi fic where she fell first but Gavi fell harder?

FEELINGS - GAVI

summary: enemies to lovers, she fell first he fell harder, when the "player" meets "hasn't had her first kiss yet" , so many tropes ik 😭

a/n: also i am a genuis, i cooked this story up (this is my new fav one) Gavi is so mean in this story atleast in the beginning I am sorry that i didnt write him like the pookiebear he is

warnings: cursing, smut, A LOT OF SMUT. some mistakes

You were currently sitting in uni, listening to the most boring poems people have ever came up with.

Your professor made you look for one that means the most to you.

"Yes, Carl can we hear yours please?" The profesor pointed at the blonde boy who was such a teachers pst, sitting in first row all the time and handing in every assignment 2 weeks early.

"Why is it, that when a story ends, we begin to feel all of it." Carl smiled, of course he's depressive if the only thing he has on his mind was school.

The professor only nodded his head and pointed at you. "Y/n, let's hear yours."

You sighed deeply and then looked at your papers.

"There'll always be a reason why you meet people.

Either you need to change your life,

or you're the one that'll change theirs."

"Beautiful," The proffesor praised you. However you were only happy that he didnt praise Carl.

But you had other things to focus on.

Like tomorrow.

"Fuck I cant believe this." You smiled as you turned to a random blonde girl who was standing next to you. "It's crazy" She muttered with a smile. You were a student at the University of Barcelona and they were giving away one special ticket to play a game against the first team in the johan cruyff stadium. That's how you ended up in the stadium with 17 other influencers, wearing the full Barca kit. However before you came here you had to get medical checkups to see if you were actually in shape to play 45 minutes.

A man then came out of the tunnel and all of you suddenly went quiet. "So hello, its lovely to have you all here and I'm so glad everyone made it here save. I know, we only told you that you will be playing against eachother, however we have a small surprise." The man smiled. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at him. He stepped to the side and you saw 11 of the first team players walking out.

"They boys will join you for a quick game, dont go too hard on them." The man laughed and you tried to hide your smile as you looked at the players. He looked rather atletic, very British accent and he looked like he could be from Britain.

However then your eyes drifted to the 11 first team players. Ter Stegen, Balde, Araujo, Christensen, Kounde, Pedri, Frenkie De Jong, Gavi, Dembele, Lewandowski and Ferran Torres.

"So we have chosen 11 people for the line up." The man continued and then named all the people. "-and lastly, Y/n" You smiled a little bit as you looked at the whiteboard that was standing next to the man. You were in the midfield, right side to be exact.

So the referee blew the whistle and the game began. The striker from your team passed the ball to another midfielder and so the game went on. Passing and passing until eventually you had to cover up Gavi just as he received the ball. He tried to push you back a little but in that exact moment you moved your right leg between his legs and rolled the ball towards yourself. As soon as the ball was out of Gavi's reach you passed it down to the defense.

Meanwhile you were kinda proud of yourself, Gavi was extremely shocked. He would've defended like that against any other Laliga player. Maybe he would've pushed a bit harder but you were a woman so he couldn't play exactly the same.

But for any other player it was difficult to take the ball away from Gavi, and you took it in 2 seconds? That was huge bust for his ego, which was very high.

"What are you staring at? Move." Pedri asked the young midfielder and with that he got pulled out of his sudden shock state.

Even tho Gavi didn't seem to take it so seriously, it was because he was still shocked by that tackle you did on him. Pedri didn't like losing in general, thats why he tried a bit.

Pedri was annoyed with Gavi, he would have told him, but he knows his friend and his temper, so instead he didn't say anything.

After 20 minutes, the halftime in that game the score was still 0-0 which was surprising, because either the first team wasn't trying or you had too good of a defense.

But that changed in the final minutes of the game when your team just took the ball from the first team and you got it passed from a german influencer. Since you were playing in the right side of the midfield, you had pretty much open space on the right so you decided to dribble past the few players there.

Until you were standing in the box where you saw someone stand alone. You passed him the ball and he shot at Ter Stegen but he of course saved it. However, the ball bounced back from his hand and rolled right in front of your feet where without thinking for a second, you kicked and scored. You turned around and saw some of your teammates running towards you to celebrate.

Just a few minutes after that, the game ended and everyone took some pictures with the players. Nobody was sitting on the bench so you decided to sit down and drink some water.

While you took the second big gulp Gavi sat down next to you and looked straight ahead. "That was a dirty tackle." He mumbled while also grabbing a water bottle.

You couldn't help but smile a little bit at his words, you didn't look at him either. "But a beautiful one" You smiled at the stadium.

"You do believe that you're all that, trust me, one good tackle doesn't make you a Ballon d'Or winner." Gavi stood up and pointed at you before walking away. He didn't even want to hear you out, he just didnt want to look at your smile anymore. He hated the satisfaction that came with it.

"Ay Hermano, good game hm?" Pedri walked up to Gavi who scoffed and walked into the locker room. "Oh so you're still mad about that girl that tackled you, huge blow on your ego hm? She did that good tho." Pedri teased his friend whose blood was for sure boiling by now. He walked down into the locker room, his arms swinging by his side with force as he left his friend behind. Pedri shook his head as he saw how mad Gavi was, for him it didn't make any sense why he would even care. Maybe it was because he got overpowered by a woman, but Gavi wouldn't be like that.

"I need some chick to let my anger out, I'll call you later, you wanna join my place in two hours?" Gavi grabbed his bag with just his normal shoes on and started walking backwards towards the door. Pedri was right after all, if Gavi got overpowered by a woman he was gonna show himself that he still can overpower women himself.

"Only if we're alone" Pedri told him and Gavi nodded while giving him a thumbs up. The walk to the exit was long for him while he looked for the phone in his pocket.

However, then Gavi jumped into his car and then immediately dialed Arias number. Aria was a famous model who had worked with some big companies in her career before so she was definitely known to some people in Barcelona. To Gavi she was the girl who he called up once every two months for a fuck and then ghost her.

The idiot she was she agreed every time, she couldn't have been blamed, who could say no to Gavi.

"Are you alone?" Gavi immediately asked after she picked up.

"Yeah, you wanna come over?" She asked, she sounded excited, Gavi almost felt bad that he didn't care about her feeling at all.

"Yeah I'll be there in five. Get ready." Without any further exchange of words, he hung up and kept driving through the city.

After he finally arrived the door to her apartment swung open and Gavi didn't waste a second.

While pushing her against the wall and pushing his tongue down her throat he began taking off her clothes until she was left in her underwear.

"Get on your knees." Gavi said harshly after he finally pulled away from her. There was really nothing romantic or sweet in what Gavi was doing.

But Aria did as the footballer requested her to. She was facing Gavis crotch and he immediately pulled down his shorts and boxers to his knees and pumped her hand up and down his hard dick a couple of times before grabbing her ponytail.

"Open up wide." Gavi said and Aria did as he asked her too, sooner then she knew, his dick was deep down her throat. He was face fucking her at the highest speed. He didn't care if she gagged, he didn't care if she coughed, as long as his dick stayed inside her mouth and he could chase his own pleasure.

Just as she put her hands on the back of his tights for stabilization he pulled his dick out of her mouth and slapped her cheek with it. "Don't touch me." He leaned down a bit and then he shoved his dick down her throat again.

He came after a few minutes, and after he cleaned the edges of her lips and making her eat the rest of his cum he leaned down to her.

"You're always so good to me Aria, sad that your gorgeous body doesn't come with a brain." Gavi kissed her one last time and then left her apartment, leaving her sitting on the floor. The brown haired girl who was on her knees didn't know what else to do other than look down at the floor. She was ashamed of herself but everytime she licked her lips she still tasted Gavi, so that made it all disappear.

Gavi on the other hand was making his way down in the elevator, he had his hands crossed infront of his chest while an old man was standing next to him. He didn't look at the man, the only thing he prayed for was that he wouldn't recognize him. He breathed out a long breath after he made it to the ground floor and basically ran out the elevator.

So as he sat into the car he called his bestfriend Pedri. "Hey, can you come over now?" He asked and looked at the time, about two hours have passed since practice.

"Yeah, are you still on your way?" Pedri asked Gavi. Pedri hadn't done anything ever since he got home from practice, he went to shower a second time because it was so hot in Barcelona and then was on his phone in bed the whole time. He didn't have anything else planned so he only waited for Gavi to text or call.

"Yeah, I'll get home in five, so I'll leave the door open and you just let yourself in." Gavi explained and nodded even tho Pedri couldn't see him. The young midfielder started the car and began his journey towards his house.

"Bien, see you later." Pedri was the one to hang up the phone. Gavi was focused on the road until he arrived home, with a deep sigh he got out of the car and made his way inside his house.

He put down his bag and then went to pour himself a cup of water before sitting down on the couch and opening instagram.

He checked some of his messages and came across the restricted account of Aria. The message that came from her read "loved it, we have to repeat it". Gavi scoffed at her message. Luckily he had her restricted so she couldn't see if he viewed her message.

Gavi looked at Aria more as a stupid slut, he never really talked to her, it was always just her sucking him off.

Just as he wanted to text Pedri where he was but im that second the door opened and Pedri's voice echoed through the house.

"Hola Hermano" Pedri sounded excited to see his friend, the same was for Gavi, he stood up and went to greet his friend with a hug.

"How are you, everything good after your meet up with..." Pedri stopped for a second after he dabbed up Gavi. "Who was it this time?" Pedri smiled a bit.

"My god, Aria." Gavi rolled his eyes and Pedri's eyes widened.

"I thought you hated her?" Pedri asked while taking off his shoes and the duo made their way further inside the house to the couch.

"I do but her head game is good, it is what it is." Gavi shrugged his shoulders and let himself fall down on the white couch.

"Man you're sick." Pedri laughed a bit while he patted his friends shoulders. "Bye the way, do you remember the girl that tackled you?" Pedri turned his upper body towards the younger midfielder.

"Oh shut up, just drop that act." Gavi shook his head as he groaned.

"No, I actually spoke to her after I showered and-" Pedri began and then Gavi stopped him.

"Oh so you showered with her?" Gavi smiled.

"No!? You shut up, so I've talked to her and she's a university student here. So I was a bit shocked when I found out that it wasn't all content creators, because I thought so-" Pedri started again but this time Gavi caught him off once again.

"Man just get to the point, you're talking too much." He clapped his hand on his thigh and smiled a bit.

"So what I found out, that her brother works in the medical team. When she said that her brother is Marco, my jaw dropped right." Pedri smiled at Gavi and his jaw dropped too.

Marco had worked closely together with the team in the couple of months, that's why Gavi and Pedri knew him so well and were on good terms with him. They sometimes invited him to team hangouts but that was rather rare.

"So then she told me that she'll be visiting the practice the day after tomorrow since she's studying medicine in sports and she would have came here anyway to watch what her brother was doing." Pedri explained to Gavi, him on the other hand was fighting his concentration span. Pedri was talking way too many words that were so boring.

"Okay, good, you're absolutely inlove with her and I don't care, I don't like her." Gavi stood up to get himself a glass of some juice, he needed sugar, so that's why the ice tea packaging in the fridge caught his eyes as he was standing in front of the open fridge door.

Pedri was left on the couch, confused by Gavi. "Why would I be inlove with her?" Pedri shot up from the couch and also folloeed his friend into the kitchen.

"Cause why do you listen to her yapping all those words?" Gavi sighed and put down an empty glass on the counter.

"Cause I don't have an attention span of three seconds unlike some others here." Pedri gave the younger midfielder a side eye.

"What did you say?" Gavi grinned at his own joke and Pedri scoffed while he smiled.

"Hey" You told your brother as you sat into the car, he went to pick you up from your apartment so you could go to esportiva together.

"Hurry" Your brother Niko stressed you, you just shook your head. Your brother was two years older than you but you two always got along, you chased the same dream of living in Barcelona, thats why you got along better with him than your other siblings. The city had a special effect on you, while in England you didn't really have any friends and felt very unhappy and alone, moving to Barcelona changed that. You didn't have mamy friends here either but a few good ones, whenever you felt sad or alone or even stressed because of university, you went on a walk or maybe you even bought a ticket to a game. That brightened up your mood immediately.

"So we'll have to go into the kffice at first, say hi to Juan, he's my work partner avoid him tho, he talks way too much. Then the players will come in eventually and that's when you'll have to stay serious, no giggling around no laughing, if I see you touch one of them, I'll send you outside." He told you while pointing his finger towards you. You rolled your eyes ans then nodded your head. "Good, after the players are gone, we'll have to go to the office again and be on the computer to type everything in." Niko explained further and then drove to the security infront of the training facilities. He walked up to Niko as he let down the window. "Niko, how are you" The security man asked your brother.

"Good, could be better tho, work means work." Niko shrugged his shoulders and the man smiled.

"It is what it is, is that your girlfriend or-?" The man pointdd towards you and you quickly shook your head.

"I'm his sister." You quickly corrected the man who raised his arms into the air.

"Sorry, don't know what kind of businesses your brother has." He laughed and you just smiled at him, trying to be friendly. "Okay you can go through." The man told Niko and he drove up to the parking lots where he parked down his car.

Until you walked to the office everything was pretty boring. That was until you accidentally ran into Pedri in the hallway when you were just on your way to the toilet.

"Oh no way, hey Y/n" He smiled as he dabbed you up. Your face was also covered in a wide grin as he released his hand from yours again.

"Hey Pedri." You held it short and waited for him to keep going wifh the conversation.

"You wanna cone down and watch us train? Or do you have things to do? Cause I'm pretty sure that Xavi will be okay with it." Pedri suggested and your eyes immediately lit up.

"My brother will say no, a hundred percent." Your lips parted into a thin line to which Pedri only began to smile.

"Come on" He grabbed your arm and put his other hand on the door handle to Niko's office. He opened it and pulled you inside befire he ket go of your arm. His grip was so strong that you thought that your blood circulation had stopped for a second.

"Hey Pedri man, what's up?" Niko turned around in his office chair to face the Canarian midfielder who was already wearing the practice kit.

"Niko, listen hermano, is it okay if we steal her from you? She's gonna be at the pitch with us." Pedri asked Niko who gave you a dirty look.

"Sure, if you say so" Niko answered Pedri while he gave you another mad look and then turned back to his laptop, shaking his head in annoyance.

"Come on, let's go." The midfielder turned to face you and left the office, closing the door behind himself.

That day you didn't do much, just stood at the sidelines and watched the team train, you weren't complaining tho, it was amazing.

Niko was only a bit mad at you because he told you to keep it together while with the players. However, the following day, which was friday, you were alone in your apartment, like usual.

Scrolling through instagram many videos popped up on your feed about gavi, pedri and other barca players. Your eyes scanned all the videos until they landed on a gavi one. He looked surprisingly good in the clásico that was last week against real madrid. Where Barca wore the motomami shirt by Rosalía, they ended up winning 2-1 with Kessie's last minute winner.

The same video kept replaying, of Gavi laying on his back on the pitch, breathing heavily, his hair sticking to his forehead and pearls of sweat hoovering on his forehead.

It was obvious that he mouthed the words "puta madre", which only made him look so hot in your opinion. Your mind drifted off as you imagined him below you, you on top of him, riding him out until he is a heavy breathing mess.

You sqeezed your legs together as you imagined how he would feel inside of you his hands gripping your waist to thurst up into you after your knees have given out and you touching his body, your fingers sloding over his abs and you looking down at the point where you two would meet. Gavi's head would be propped on a pillow while he looked at himself thrusting up into you and you would look at him. You felt your stomach cramp at the thoughts you were having.

That was until the sound of your phone ringing pulled you back into your thoughts. You looked down on your phone and saw Pedris name written on the screen. Immediately you realized what you wrre thinking about and made a disgusted face immediately. Gavi was such a prick for no reason, you wouldn't want him to take your virginity.

So sliding the button to take Pedri's call and putting it up to your ear, you heard the midfielders voice.

"Hey are you busy?" Pedri asked immediately and you looked at the time.

"No, why are you asking?"

"I didn't wanna disturb you, anyways; I wanted to ask if you would be up to coming over to my house today, we invited some team mates and their girlfriends and I thought you'd get along great with Dani and Mikky, maybe even Taia. So do you have time?" Pedri asked and you looked at the clock again. You didn't really plan anything for that day so there was no hesitation.

"I'd love to, just tell me when to be there and send me over your address." The smile on your face was heard by Pedri.

"Great, I'll send everything over, see ya." And as soon you told Pedri goodbye too, he hung up the phone, his gaze shifted towards Gavi walking down the stairs, his arm wrapped around a girls waist. He didn't seem to notice his bestfriend until the girl left and he closed the door then turned around.

"Since when are you here?" Gavi asked and locked the door before walking over to Pedri on the couch.

"Since ten minutes, is she new by the way?" Pedri raised his brows while looking at the girl Gavi just brought to the door.

"Nah, I just hit her up after like 5 months again. Gotta wait another five now." Gavi shrugged his shoulders and sat down.

"How do they still sleep with you if you ignore them for five months." Pedri questioned to which Gavi just responded with a laugh.

"My dick works wonders" He shrugged his shoulders once again and then pulled out his phone.

"Yeah, I heard that. I also invited some other people over to my place tonight." Pedri let him know and the younger midfielder lifted his head up immediately and locked his phone.

"What people?"

"Like Frenkie and Mikky, Fermin, Marc and Dani and the girl that tackled you." Pedris lips pulled up into a smile as he saw Gavi's face drop.

"Why would you invite her, what's her name again?" Gavi looked at Pedri surprised. He wasnt the biggest fan of you, he disliked you, if not dispised you. The only reasonable reason was because you tackled him, many people would think that that's a stupid reason to hate someone, including Pedri. But Gavi's ego was the highest in his private life, on the pitch he was rather focused and didn't want to get over himself too much, but since that was basically just a little silly game with some influencers and you tackled him. Why did you out of all of them tackle him, how did you tackle him. That was what went through his head the whole day after that small game.

For you it was amazing but the tackle was not the only thing that remained in your head. The young midfielder who happened to be Gavi looked surprisingly better in real life. So the moments of him sitting down next to you or him looking at you didn't go unnoticed by you.

You wouldn't say that you had a crush on him, he wasn't very nice and he didn't treat people with respect in your eyes, but his looks speak for themselves.

That's why as soon as you stepped foot into Pedri's gigantic house, your eyes scanned the room and stopped at the side of Gavi's head. His side profile was too attractive but immediately you were disgusted by yourself as you thought about the thinks that crossed your mind before Pedri had called you.

Everyone was chatting while sitting at the couch and Pedri who just closed the door behind you turned to you. "How are you?" He asked and a smile plastered across his face.

"I'm awesome thank you for asking, what about you?" You smiled as you took off your shoes and stepped onto the heated tiles with your socks.

"I'm better now that all of you are here, come on we wanted to play dare or drink after you came." Pedri informed you and then waved you to walk behind him while he made his way over to his couch.

All of the people turned to look at you and said hi to you, you decided to take place next to Mikky and Taia who were both very welcoming and nice towards you.

Pedri then eventually stood up and looked at everyone. "So we're gonna be playing drink or dare, rules are pretty simple, do a dare or drink, I'll get the Alcohol and in the meantime you guys decide who starts." Pedri then smiled and went to the kitchen to get three shot glasses and three bottles of vodka which was insane in your opinion but you were always up to a little drinking game. Gavi was sat next to Frenkie and Lewandowski on the other side of the couch, he had a clear view on you, however he didn't even notice you, until Frenkie mentioned Mikky to him and he looked over at the Dutchmans girlfriend and saw you. Pedri really did invite you, Gavi didn't understand why he did that since he didn't know you that well.

You both got pulled out of your thoughts when Pedri returned and then Fermin spoke up. "Pedrito, since you're at home here, we all agreed on you starting this game" Fermins cheeky smile covered his face as Pedri sat down next to Raphinha.

"Good, so Fermin, who was your first time?" Pedri leaned forward a bit and Fermin shook his head while he poured himself a shot.

"You know this is gonna be a short game for me if you keep asking me stuff you know I hate to talk about." Fermin laughed a bit while everyone smiled and watched him pour down the Alcoholo on his throat.

After about an hour you have listened and laughed a lot, the game was funny and everyone was a bit tipsy, except for you and Gavi. Gavi answered every question he got asked truthfully and the guys just didn't ask you any bad question since they didn't know you that well. The most exciting question was when you had your first kiss, and even that you answered. Truth was you didn't really had your first real kiss yet, the first and last one was in kindergarten.

So when everyone around you two was giggling and talking, and asking questions, Gavi and you held intense eye contact, nobody was able to look away, just staring at eachother from across the two sides of the couches.

Gavi's mind was filled with questions, just the same as always. "How, why, when" and everything else that came to mind. Why was it you that tackled him. Meanwhile his brows were knit together and you just thought of how arrogant he must he if he keeps looking at you like that, suddenly all the attraction towards him was gone, there was just that weird feeling in your head.

Eventually you cleared your throat and turned to Mikky. "I'll get myself a glass of water." You told her and she nodded. So standing up and walking in the dark to the kitchen, you searched for a glass and then placed it under the tap, the water filling up the cup slowly.

In the dark you could barely see how full it was, however you had to jump a little a few seconds later.

"He has bottled water" You turned around only to see Gavi who pointed at the fridge with his thumb and then put both of his hands into the pockets of his black joggers.

"Okay" You simply answered and then turned around to look at the half full glass of water still standing below the tap.

There was an awkward atmosphere between you two in the kitchen. The soft noise of laughter coming from the living room, the water running into the cup, the fridge making noises, the crickets outside, you suddenly seemed to realize everything.

"Are you a footballer?" Gavi asked again, he had to ask, he forced himself tho, he had to find out how. However you turned around, brows knit together and a confused look on your face.

"Why would I be?" Quickly answering and then turned off the water, just as you wanted to grab the glass, Gavi's hand was at your wrist and he grabbed it to turn you around to look at him.

The confusion in your face was clear as day, you had no idea what was going on. "How did you tackle me then?" He asked, still holding onto your wrist carefully but still with a good grip. Your body was pushed against the counted and him standing tall in front of you.

"I played football like 4 years ago, you don't forget everything you've learnt." You answered, still holding back a ittle since Gavi was standing way too close to you, you thought that he wouldn't notice your gaze shifting down to his lips for of couple of seconds. He did.

"You haven't played football in a club since 4 years?" Gavi raised his eyebrows and you nodded your head. He was surprisingly nice to you in that moment, you would have imagine him to swear at you or call you names but he was nice.

"This is a joke." Gavi whispered aggressively under his breath as he turned around and made his way towards the door. He left the house and left you standing in the kitchen with a confused look on your face.

That's why next week you got a little deja vu. That week you had talked a lot with Pedri and you'd even consider the two of you friends. You also got along great with the wags and you even went to get breakfast with Mikky and Dani, Ter Stegens wife.

Then you went with your brother to work and just like the last time, you stood next to Xavi who watched all the players train.

He had told you a week ago that if you don't disturb the practice sessions, you're allowed to watch and be there.

And one thing you noticed was that Gavi was playing shit, really shit, like passing the ball in the worst moments and not paying attention.

After the practice session was over you msde sure the players left before you walked into the locker room and grabbed your stuff you had left there in prior. You had to walk to the other side of where the entrance was and as you faced the wall and wanted to pick up the stuff you heard a voice coming from the door.

"I played shit today didn't I?" Gavi's voice echoed a bit and you turned around. "Must be because all of the girls I have in my head." He smirked while he looked at you.

"You should maybe stop thinking with your dick then if all you think about are your one night stands." You mumbled and Gavi raised his eyebrows immediately. He didn't know how much you hated that he slept with other women, he didn't know that you wanted him to think about you only while practicing, he didn't know that you had a crush on him.

"You're telling me to stop thinking about sex when I can see that you're drolling over all my teammates whenever they're playing." Gavi shot back and you shrugged your shoulders as a smile made it's way to your face.

"And I bet they're a better fuck than you." You shot back to which Gavi lowered his eyebrows again and he squinted his eyes while he smirked.

"You wanna try that out?"

"If you're begging for it" You shrugged your shoulders and then you turned back around to grab your stuff.

"Fine, send me your address I'll be there in-" He mumbled and turned around to look at the clock hanging over the door. "two hours," Gavi said confidentially and turned around to walk out the room. However he stopped in the doorframe and turned around to face you. "Oh and babe, leave the door open."

You squeezed your eyes shut as you turned away from the doorframe and a deep sigh escaped your lips.

The whole drive home, you anxiously tapped the steering wheel and looked at the clock. You still had one and a half hours, you knew that Gavi meant to sleep with you. You needed to prepare yourself mentally to sleep with him, not to mention that you were still a virgin, you didn't plan on telling him that he was about to be your first time.

So you switched into comfortable clothes which would be some grey joggers and a black crop top. You sat down on your couch and took out your phone immediately. Your gaze shifted from the tiktok you were watching to the clock every minute. Until you heard someone go up to your door and seconds later the door opened and Gavi walked inside.

"Good job leaving the door open, not many girls listen to me when I say that." Gavi mumbled, he was wearing a black compression shirt and a black jacket over it and black pants.

You looked him up and down while he took off his jacket and out it down on the couch. You stayed in place as ypu looked up at him, Gavi just stood infront of you until he shrugged his shoulders.

"You want me to bend you over on the couch or what?" Gavi asked, he knew that he had you.

You nervously stood up and then made your way over to the bedroom, you felt Gavi's presence behind you and immediately as you two entered the bedroom, Gavi closed the door and then turned you around.

"Not very talkative right now hm?" He grinned and then hungrily kissed your lips. The kiss was fast and he kept pulling you closer by your waist, the way his hands burnt into your exposed skin on the hips was sending shivers down your spine.

His lift were soft and aggressive, he was dominant and he carefully but the bottom of your lip, you opened your mouth slightly and then his tongue slipped into your mouth, dominantly fighting with yours. At that point your hands were behind his neck, pulling him closer. He felt like heaven and you knew you didn't want to stop even if it meant just a quick fuck for him, you wanted it to be him. Your crush who didn't even knew you had feelings for him and supposedly hated you.

So he pushed you towards the bed and as you sat down on it you started backing up to get in the middle.

"Take off your clothes." Gavi commanded and you didn't hesitate to pull down your joggers and crop top, exposing yourself in only underwear to him.

Gavi didn't speak as he took off his own clothes too and was left in his white boxer shorts. Your eyes scanned his body, you felt the pool between your legs getting bigger and hotter.

He then crawled on top of you, putting his body onto yours and kissing your lips passionately. His hands roamed your body until he reached your panties and he began to pull them down. As he parted his lips from yours to pull them down fully he looked at your wet pussy.

"So wet hm?" He teased as he then also pulled down his boxershorts and his hard dick hit his abdomen, your mouth fell slightly open at the sight of his dick he just looked at your pussy and then held himself up over you with one of his hands while he other one grabbed his dick. He started running his tip along your folds and watched your reaction. You bit your lip as you clenched around nothing, you just wanted him inside of you, stretching you out, you wanted to know how it feels.

After he was satisfied with your reaction, he alined himself and pushed himself into you fully.

"Oh my god you're tight" Gavi breathed out as you clenched around him, him stretching out your walls felt incredible, his hips meeting yours as he was balls deep inside of you felt incredible. He felt incredible.

There was a short sting of pain before he started moving but it all turned into pleasure after. You felt his tip grazing iver your g spot which made you moan and throw your head back. He started hitting the spot after he noticed that he had found it. As if that wasn't enough, he buried his head in the crook of your beck and started sucking on it, leaving nearly purple marks as he kept thrusting into you at a rapid speed.

His lips, his movements, his body, that all made it too much and eventually a warm knot started forming in your stomach as your legs were widely spread.

You arched your back and Gavi lifted up his head, he looked at you after he looked at the headboard hitting the wall of your bedroom. His eyes locked with yours and you stayed quiet in that second, his body moving yours and his eyes staying on yours, you clenched around him and he breathed out shakily.

Just a few thrusts and you finally came, your legs started shaking like crazy and you arched your back as you moaned.

Gavi only needed a few more seconds until he came too, he pushed inside of you one final time and shot his cum into you, the long ropes of his cum filling you up and he pulled out of your pussy. As you were still breathing heavily you remained on your back, staring at the ceiling while Gavi started dressing up again. You pulled a blanket over yourself as you watched him and as he was fully dressed, only missing his jacket from the couchnin your living room, he walked over to you and leaned down to your face.

"I hope this proves that I'm a better fuck than them." Gavi pecked your lips and then left you speechless as he walked out. You waited until he closed the main door and then you covered your face with your own hands.

You knew that there would be no aftercare, yet you were measuring out in your head if it was good or not. To him it meant nothing, to you, you will forever remember this time with Gavi. Many girls would have loved him to take their virginity and you didn't say that the sex was bad, but it still felt bad. So you sat up, legs trembling as then a tear rolled down your cheek. It hurt you that he didn't stay, you weren't mad at him because it wasn't his fault that you caught feelings for him and he didn't know, and it also wasn't his fault that he didn't know that he just took your virginity, it was your fault.

Other than you who was still sitting on the beds edge 10 minutes after Gavi left, the midfielder just arrived at Pedri's house where the two of them wanted to meet up to play fifa.

"Where were you?" Pedri asked Gavi just as soon as he arrived at the Canarians house.

"I was at someones apartment, don't worry." Gavi winked at Pedri to which he just responded with a sigh and he shook his head.

"How do you have so much sex and can concentrate on football at the same time. I can't do that" Pedri asked while Gavi sat down and shrugged his shoulders. "Who was it this time?"

"I can't tell you, top secret." Gavi answered and Pedri gave him a weird look.

"If you say so."

Gavi was just glad that Pedri didn't question him being away any further. Normally Gavi would tell Pedri who he slept with, but not when he also knows you.

Many days of practice sessions you attended have passed and also many games you watched in the tv. Until eventually the big game of the season came where it would be decided if Barcelona was gonna win the Laliga or not.

So against Espanyol they stepped foot onto the field and their only goal was to win, which they did.

You were smiling the whole time as you looked at the celebrate through the tv. Then not even an hour later you received a text in the groupchat you were in with some of the guys and their girlfriends.

"We meeting in Flamenco in three hours" Fermin texted and you sighed and looked at the clock. It was one am, that meant that you'll need to be up a long time. You decided to drink a coffee and then take a shower before starting to get ready. While you were doing your hair you also drank a red bull just to make sure that you were staying awake.

Then Mikky called you over Face time and you talked about her picking you up.

Sooner than you knew, Mikky was in front of your door with her car, sitting inside in a black dress. You drove to the club and you saw Pedri and decided to go up to him and ask him where Gavi was so you could talk to him.

"I think he's upstairs" Pedri mumbled and You nodded while making your way through the crowd. You wanted to talk to Gavi about him not going to practice today.

The music was loud as soon as you stepped up the stairs and saw that a door was slightly open. You made your way over to it and as you pushed it open your mouth fell slightly open.

There was a girl bent over the bed, she had her face burried in the sheets and didn't notice that you saw her getting pounded into the bed by nobody other than Gavi.

He saw you, and you saw him, fucking that girl.

He began to smile immediately after and then nudged his head towards you, his face was sweaty and his body was covered by sweat too.

He looked attractive, but you couldn't focus on that as the girl was clenching around his dick.

Gavi blew you a kiss before he waved you over but you just shook your head in disgust and turned around.

Making your way down the stairs again you were glad that you didn't drink since you needed to drive home as soon as possible before you collapsed and started crying.

It was one thing to know that Gavi was sleeping with other girls, but it was another to see how he fucked one.

ONE WEEK LATER:

"There's a problem tho." Pedri looked at you in the review mirror. Gavi was sitting next to Pedri in the passangers seat, white shorts and a white shirt which was hugging his muscles perfectly, meanwhile you were sitting behind Pedri, behind Gavi was Aurora.

Your attention shifted back to Gavi, his legs sread widely and his phone in its black phonecase in his lap.

He was also wearing black sunglasses and as always, he was chewing gum.

"Hm?" You turned your attention back to Pedri after you've observed Gavi for the hundredth time today.

"There aren't enough rooms. So Sira and Ferran share one, Aurora and Javi and obviously I'll sleep in a room with Fermin, that leaves Gavi and you. So you'll have to share." Pedri explained and you saw how Gavi immediately turned his head to face the Canarian.

So after a long discussion and pleading Pedri still wasn't able to find a solution, so you did have to share with Gavi.

After you arrived at the gigantic house you rented, you went to eat together and then it was already half past 12. So everyone quickly got back home and then got ready for bed.

While you were already in bed, Gavi was standing in front of the tv, staring down at his phone in his palm.

"Not the first time we share a bed hm?" Gavi mumbled and a small smile was heard, since he was facing you with his back, you couldn't tell if he was actually smiling or not.

"So you wanna fuck again, I know you've missed my dick." Gavi finally turned around and walked round the bed to take off his socks. Then he got into the bed next to you and turned off the lights. There was a few minutes of silence between the two of you.

"Mhm, except that I wouldn't know any other dicks at all." You mumbled quietly to yourself, you were a hundred percent sure that he didn't hear it until he looked up at you.

"Sorry?" Gavi's head shot up immediately and he sat up in the dark room. He turned to look at you while you just looked up at the ceiling.

"What did you say?" Gavi put his hand on your arm and you turned your gaze to face him.

"I was a virgin" You mumbled quietly and Gavi's jaw dropped. He looked away for a few seconds and then back to you.

"I took your virginity?" He asked while you slowly nodded his head. He stood up and started walking around the room while his left hand was in his hair and his right covering his mouth.

"If you would've told me i would've never slept with you" Gavi turned around to face you who was now also sitting up on the bed.

"Exactly" You mumbled and Gavi looked at you with a shocked expression, everything else was quiet in the house, only the two of you talking.

"Yeah but babe you can't just not tell me, you're supposed to have the first time with someone you love and trust." Gavi's voice broke in the middle of the sentence since he was talking a bit louder now. You just prayed that nobody would accidentally overhear something.

"You're matching the acquirements." You answered shortly and then turned around in the bed again. Gavi's jaw dropped and he looked at the back of your head.

"You can't go to sleep now, we need to talk." Gavi walked to the side of the bed and looked at you, your eyes were looking at the floor, trying to ignore him standing infront of you. It became difficult when he kneeled down.

"Babe we need to talk." Gavi said in a serious voice. You did genuinely see the concern in his face.

"Leave me alone Gavi, I wanna sleep." You hummed while your throat hurt. You were about to cry and Gavi also noticed by your voice shaking.

"You can't just say something like this and then go to sleep." Gavi mumbled loudly, he was so energetic in the moment, that just completely woke him up.

"Or what? You're gonna fuck some slut right before my eyes again?" You shot back and Gavi's eyes widened a bit.

"I-" Gavi was speechless and in loss for words. He didn't know what to say. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Gavi asked, ignoring the question and leaned forward a little bit.

"Oh yeah Gavi, you want me to tell you, the absolute fuckboy whose bodycount is over 60 that I have feelings for you?" You sat up and asked that loudly. You felt stupid for even telling him, now he won't leave you alone.

"I stopped, I havent seen anyone in 2 weeks." Gavi mumbled and scratched the back of his head. Everytime neither of you talked, there was an awkward silence in the room, not to speak about the tension which was growing every second that passed.

"Am i supposed to be proud of you now?" You raised your eyebrows while you asked in a cocky tone.

The midfielder turned his gaze away from you for a second before his head shot back to face you. "Let me make it up to you"

You looked at him confused but still angrily. "What and how?"

"Let's pretend you're still a virgin and let us go again." Gavi suggested. You were about to loose your mind.

"Didn't you say that it has to be someone who loves me?" Gavi stayed quiet after you said that. "Is it just for you to fuck me again?"

"No, I'm gonna make love to you, with aftercare, you deserve to have a normal first time, not the one I gave you. So let's forget it." Your stomach twisted at his words and you almost started sobbing.

"No, you don't love me so what's the point." You asked and Gavi looked away for a second again.

"But-"

"Gavi just shut up and let me sleep, you're a dick, can't change anythung about that." With that you turned around and closed your eyes. Gavi left you alone and just got next to you into bed, careful not to touch you.

The next day by the time you woke up, Gavi was already downstairs talking to the others.

You got ready upstairs and just as you made sure that you looked completely okay, you went downstairs.

Pedri, Fermin, Gavi, Sira, Ferran, Javi and Aurora were sitting at the table, chatting ro eachother. Some of them turned their heads when they heard you coming, but Aurora's and Sira's face filled with a smile immediatly. Sira waved you over and you sat down at the empty chair next to Aurora and Sira placed a plate of eggs and bread infront of you immediately.

"Gavi go and make her a shake." Aurora yelled over to her brother and she caught him looking at you, she however decided to ignore it since he isn't suspicious for looking at people.

"How did you sleep?" Sira asked and you just gave her a thumbs up while your eyes followed Gavi who walked over to the kitchen. That house was still so big and it's so freaking annoying that there weren't enough rooms. Your attention shifted to Aurora again as soon as she pulled out her phone to check today's program.

"Okay so, we're going on a yacht today as you already know I think," Aurora began to explain and Sira nodded her head. However you looked at Aurora confused.

"I didn't know but okay." You mumbled.

"Yeah, we're going on a yacht and then we'll go swimming and today evening we'll go and eat at a fancy restaurant." Aurora said and Sira smiled while nodding her head.

"That means we're going to wear those awesome dresses we brought for a reason." Sira smiled even brighter and you couldn't help but smile too.

After that you went upstairs to get ready and pack your things for the yacht. You went into the bathroom and wore your bikini underneath the shirt and the shorts you were going in.

While you walked out the bathroom, ready to go, you saw Gavi getting changed. His shirt was in his hand and he was shirtless, you however tried to not look at him and walked out the door.

After that you sat into the car with Aurora again and the others were going in the other car.

When you arrived at the yacht, Ferran had already spoken to the owner you rented it from. So then you all got on board and you girls at first went inside while the boys were outside.

"This is huge tho" Sira looked around and you nodded your head as you explored the inside.

"Let's go outside and check it out too." You said and you slid the glass door to the side to access the outside of the boat.

After you looked at everything you put on sunscreen and then sat down on the couch inside.

You pulled out your phone and started checking youe messages while everyone was outside having fun.

Suddenly you heard someone come inside. "Come outside." A shirtless Gavi was standing over you, looking down at you while you were facing his crotch.

"Mhm, in a second." Without even looking up at him you said that.

"In a second my ass." Suddenly Gavi lifted up your hips and put them on his shoulder. You quickly threw your phone on the couch.

"Gavi put me down" You cried as you couldn't help but laugh nervously at the same time. Your fists kept hitting his back but he wouldn't stop walking. So as he got out to the back of the yacht where Javi and Fermin were sitting they both laughed at you.

"Ay Hermano let that poor girl down." Fermin told Gavi who turned around and smiled at Fermin.

"Let her down you said?" Gavi asked and turned around, in that moment he gripped your hips and you felt yourself fall into the water a few seconds later.

Swimming up to the surface you looked up at Gavi who was laughing down at you, you couldn't help but smile a bit as he held his hand towards you to pull you out.

Then you grabbed his hand with both of yours and pulled him into the water, so then as quickly as possible you got on the yacht again and started running up the stairs where the sunbeds were.

Gavi left you alone after that because he thought he deserved it. Atleast you thought so, because a few seconds after you sat down and exchanged a few words with Aurora and Sira, Gavi also came up the stairs.

You fell back into the sunbed and looked at him come towards you while you crossed your arms.

He then put his right knee on the sunbed on your left side. He came super close to you as he was on his knees over you, his hands gripping the oart where you're supposed to lean back.

Sira and Aurora were watching, their mouths slightly fell open. That was until you gave Aurora that "help me" look.

She stood up and patted Gavi's shoulder.

"Hermano get off of her. Come on." She mumbled and Gavi moved his gaze from looking at his sister, to you one last time.

So he did, he went back to the boys again, and after you looked at Sira and Aurora their eyes were widened.

"Okay what was that?" They asked while the water was still dripping from your hair.

"I have no idea." You lied and then laid down on the sunbed comfortably.

About 30 minutes later of you enjoying the sun with the girls, Gavi's voice was heard again. You opened your eyes and saw that he was wet, water dripping from his hair.

Then Ferran and Pedri also appeared next to him. They were all wet, you assumed that they just came out of the water.

"Don't you dare come near me" You told them and walked over to the huge couch covered in matresses, then closed your eyes again, however as soon as you did that Gavi smiled at Pedri and at Ferran and sneaked closer to you quietly. He then quickly laid down on top of you and your eyes immediately shot open.

"Gavi, get off of me." You mumbled as you tried to push him off by his shoulders. However he didn't move an inch but instead he rolled over onto the other matress so that you were now on top of him. His hands wrapped around you tightly so that you had no space to escape, after a while you just gave up.

"Can you get off of me now?" You asked Gavi after 2 minutes and he nodded his head. He then sat down next to you and you fixed your bikini awkwardly.

Gavi looked down on the floor while the others were having their own conversations.

He thought about you sitting next to him, his head was a mess since yesterday. Cause ever since you mentioned that he didn't love you, he couldn't help but notice how pretty you actually were, how pretty your smile was, how funny you were and how you always bring up the mood.

He looked at you every chance he could and sometimes he caught himself daydreaming about you.

He didn't know why this was happening so suddenly, but Aurora pulled him out of his thoughts suddenly. He daydreamed again.

"You wanna come and eat?" His sister asked him, he nodded his head while he pushed himself off of the couch, he didn't even notice that you already went inside the yacht.

So Gavi was thoughtfull and quiet the next four days, until you were all sitting in a fancy restaurant.

You had to sit next to Gavi since that was the only empty seat when you arrived.

You put your hand against your forehead and groaned silently. All of you had already finished the food a while ago. So you groaning caught Gavi's attention.

"Are you okay?" He leaned closer to you while he whispered in a quiet voice.

"I don't feel good." You mumbled and Gavi lifted up his hand and pressed it against your forehead.

"You don't have a fever" He mumbled and you only shrugged your shoulders. "You wanna go home? I'll go with you." Gavi stood up without even waiting for you to answer. So you immediately also pushed back the chair and then all eyes were on you.

"I'm not feeling too well, we're gonna go home." You told everyone and they didn't mind. So you and Gavi walked home since it was only like 10 minutes, as soon as you arrived and went to your room, you laid down and held your head.

"Can we talk?" Gavi asked and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"About" You sat up to look at Gavi fidgeting with his hands after he sat up.

"I've been thinking about you," He paused while he admitted. "a lot..."

"About me?" You raised your eyebrows and then he nodded his head while he made eye contact. Every noticed that drastic change in Gavi's character. The way his ego wasn't so high, he wasn't as arrogant as he was before and he wasnt as cocky as he used to be.

You also noticed it but you thought that he just couldn't survive without his one night stands.

"I think I have developed some kind of romantic feelings for you." Gavi's mouth fell slightly open but you just stared at him.

"No, don't do that Gavi, I know you're just horny and want to make it up to me, or make it seem like it." You stood up and began walking around the room.

"No, no, Y/n I swear, I'm serious. I have never ever felt something like this before." Gavi also stood up and grabbed your arms, holding you in one place.

"Can you prove it?"

"I'll take you out, on a date. Whenever you want." Gavi suggested and you looked at the floor for a couple of seconds.

"Fine. Good, but wait till we're home."

So he did wait, after you arrived home from Ibiza, almost immediately the text message from Gavi came in.

"The day after tomorrow, does seven pm sound good?" You read the text out loud and then threw your head back before texting back a quick. "Okay"

The day after tomorrow came by quicker than you would've thought. Soon you were anxiously walking around in your apartment, waiting for Gavi's text that he was there to pick you up.

As soon as your phone lit up you went down and saw Gavi's black audi standing in front of your apartment complex.

Opening the door you sat inside and was met with Gavi's smile. "Hey" He smjled as he scanned your body. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you" You tried so hard not to blush as you looked outside your window to avoid eye contact.

"Are you ready for our date?" Gavi asked after a while, he was driving fairly outside the city by now until he arrived at a restaurant.

"Yeah, kinda." Was the only thing you answered to that question. It was kind of awkward as of by now.

"Wait" Gavi told you before getting out of the car, he slammed the door shut and walked over to your side. He opened the door for you and gave you his hand to step out, which was definitely not needed but you acceptdd anyways. His hand was warm and soft, you didnt let it go after, but instead he interlocked his fingers with yours and locked the car meanwhile.

While the two of you walked over to the restaurant it was silent.

"Hey, we have a reservation for Pablo Gavira" Gavi said as the waiter came up to you to the door.

The whole evening you two laughed and talked to eachother. It felt like you already knew eachother 4 years.

And about 5 more dates and long long face time calls, Gavi asked to meet you. Although Pedri and his other friends were pretty shocked when they found out that he's going on dates. Gavi didn't tell them who.

"Why are you so smiley Pablito?" Pedri asked as Gavi walked into the locker room with a huge grin on his face.

"I have a date today." Gavi said proudly and sat down infront of his locker. That also grabbed Balde's, Ferran and Fermins attention. It was awfully quiet as Pedri's jaw dropped at the words.

"A date? You? Good joke." Ferran laughed and Gavi shook his head while looking up at Pedri first and then at Ferran.

"I'm serious, I'm thinking about asking her to be my girlfriend today." Gavi smiled and Pedri couldn't help but grin a bit.

"When are we gonna meet her?" Pedri asked but Fermin shook his head.

"Nonono, are we talking about the Gavi who has one night stands every other day and fucks girls like it's in his daily routine? You're telling me you caught real romantical feeling for someone?" Fermin walked closer to Gavi.

"Yeah" He smiled.

"That's insane, we need to meet her. She changed your fuckboy mindset. She's a witch!" Fermin joked and there was laughter heard in the locker room.

"You'll meet her if she says yes. You'll see me with her then." Gavi smiled.

That evening he invited you over to his house from where you could watch over whole Barcelona and watch the sunset.

It was the first time he actually invited you over to his. You have never been in his house before. So you were excited as you stepped onto the doorstep and rung the bell.

"Hey" He opened the door with a smile.

"Hello, how are you?" You stepped into the house and he pulled you into a quick side hug.

"You want to cook something?" He walked into the kitchen and leaned against the counter while looking at you.

"You know how to cook?" You joked and raised your brows.

"Of course, what would the madam prefer?" Gavi asked. You two then decided on some simple dish like spaghetti. You were in charge of the noodles and Gavi insisted on making the sauce.

Whilw you two laughed and talked in the kitchen, you noticed that Gavi changed a lot.

If you would've compared him to the Gavi he was two months ago, he's a complete different man.

He's way more talkative and he also opened up to you. He doesn't tell many people what he tells you. He also lost that constant angry expression he had on his face.

You also noticed that something in his eyes changed. Maybe you were hallucinating because you were so in love with him, but you were sure that something changed.

So after you two ate, he dragged you outside to the back of his house.

The garden was huge with a huge pool in the middle of it. You stood to the glass fence that went around his house and looked at the sunset. Gavi stood next to you and what you didn't notice was that he wasn't looking at the sunset but at you.

He scamned every feature of your face, the way your eyes squinted together a bit as the wind blew into your face.

"So I think we need to talk." Gavi then gathered the strength and you turned your head towards him.

"Mhm?" You hummed and your heart was beating like crazy.

"I told you in Ibiza that I like you, a lot. However you said I need to proove it to you, and I definitely prooved to myself that I do have romantical feelings for you. And I want to know if it's still the same for you. So will you be my girlfriend?" Gavi cringed at himself. He never had to ask anyone out before so he had no idea what to think of your smile after he finished.

"I would love to be your girlfriend." You smiled and Gavi couldn't help but chuckle as a huge grin covered his face.

He opened up his arms as you walked into them. You tightened your arms around him as you felt the wind blowing your hair to the side.

"When is she coming?" Pedri asked, the team met up at Pedri's house. At least a few of the players went there, not everyone.

"Soon, don't worry." Gavi smiled as everyone looked at him.

"I also invited over Y/n she should also be here in a couple of minutes." Pedri then adds to which Gavi only smiles and focuses on his phone.

A few minutes later you arrive, happily walking into Pedri's house where you found the guys sitting on the sofa.

"Hello!" You smiled at all of them and they all greeted you. You stood infront of the sofa where everyone saw you.

"I thought you were Gavi's girlfriend. I already got excited." Ferran joked and Gavi sighed deeply before standing up.

You saw him grinning at you as he stepped infront of you and wrapped his arm around his waist. His lips met yours and as he pulled away, he stood next to you, arm still wrapped around your waist as you looked at all the shocked faces.

"Okay what?!" Fermin laughed and eased up the tension in the room.

"This is my girlfriend, I dont think I need to interduce the guys to you." Gavi stood next to you proudly and looked at you at the end of his sentence.

"This is shocking. But I'm happy for you two." Pedri smiled and then you nodded your head.

"Thank you."

And so it happened more frequently that you ended uo sleeping at Gavi's place. The more you two have been together, the more times you slept at his house than in your own. You two loved to have early showers together before he had to leave for practice and you for uni.

So one day you two were making out in bed and you smiled against Gavi's lips as he groped your ass and started sliding down your shorts a bit.

"You wanna do it?" You asked as you sat up on his waist.

"Yeah, but can we pretend like it's your first time? I wanna make it up to you." Gavi asked in all seriousness and you nodded your head in agreement.

So as the two of you undressed eachother, he took every opportunity to make you a compliment or just kiss any part of your body.

As he pushed inside you gently, he made sure to always ask. "Are you okay?" Gavi looked at you with a worried look. You nodded your head as he began to slowly move his hips back and fourth.

You felt his tip already grazing your g-spot and you let out a rather loud whimper. He noticed it and leaned forward to connect his lips with yours while he began thrusting into you a bit faster.

"Fuck, yeah." You moaned as you had to detach your lips and his. Even tho you moaning into his mouth made it arguably easier for him to cum but he made you want to come first.

"I love you, youre so beautiful." He began to kiss your body, wherever he could reach while pounding you into his bed. After a while he began to rub your clit and you arched your back up against, he did that until your legs start shaking like crazy.

Gavi then lifted up your right leg and put it over his own shoulder. That allowed him to reach even deeper. You didn't even last 5 minutes in that position.

You clenched hard around him and he sent you into over sensitivity by him rubbing your clit. As he pulled out of you, he started rubbing his tip against your clit awhile pumping his hand up and down his dick and eventually coming over your stomach.

You were still in a shock state, your legs still spread wide open and Gavi standing over them as he was breathing heavily.

You gathered a bit of your strenght and propped yourself up on your shoulder. Gavi looked at you, so you decided to tease him.

You reached your finger down to your stomach and scooped up a bit of his cum, putting it into your mouth.

"Joder" He mumbled as he let his head hang low again. Then he scooped you up pretty easily and carried you to the shower.

"After this we're going back to dominant sex. I need to let my dick out again." Gavi smiled while you just shook your head and got into the shower.

"Try thinking with your brain and not your dick. That helps." You gave him a sarcastic smile to which he slapped your butt.

"Pssst babe, we both know you're a bottom, accept it." he told you while he turned on the water and you took a step back.

"Yeah you shush or I'm gonna cut of your dick." As soon as you said that Gavi burst out laughing and threw his head back.

You just shook your head as you stood below the water. The warm water running down your body felt good, your skin was all sticky and sweaty.

"You know I love you right?" Gavi wrapped his arms around you from behind and started kissing your neck.

"I love you too, do you know that?" You turned around to face him. He kissed your lips as you both were now standing below the water.

Both of you shared a long and passionate kiss with eachother. It was hard tdying to shower when you two couldnt get enough of eachother.

But you somehow managed to finish and then changed and went to bed. As the two of you were laying in silence, Gavi's arms wrapped around tightly from behind, he suddenly spoke up.

"Did you enjoy it though?" Gavi whispered, not sure if you were asleep or not.

"I did, thank you." You whispered back to which Gavi leaned forward to kiss your neck again.

You turned your body around so that you were able to face him. You smiled as you looked at him.

"You hated me because I tackled you." You reminded him while you laughed. Gavi scoffed and covered his face with his hands.

"It was a big blow for my ego, okay?" He said in his defence but you shook your head while laughing.

"Okay okay, how many women have you slept with before?" You asked out of curiosity, but Gavi gave you a weird look.

"But you won't get mad?" He raised his eyebrows to which you only shook your head. "Okay so I had this system, I didn't just sleep with random women or girls. I had 34 models or just influencers who were famous themselves, whenever I wanted to fuck them, I called and they agreed immediately. After I was done, I immediately left and then ignored them for a month. I never slept with any girl twice a month." Gavi explained and you smiled at his words.

"That is sick, so you had sex every day?" You smiled a bit while you asked.

"Not every day, but most days. Pedri was always scolding me for how I can concentrate on sex and football at the same time." Gavi couldn't help but smile as he saw your face.

You knew that he was sleeping with other women. Many articles said that he was a bit of a player but you never actually heard him talking about it.

The only people that knew about Gavi's player era, were Pedri and now you.

"You know what saying I believe in?" you sat up and moved a strand of Gavi's hair on the side of his forehead.

"Hm?" He hummed as he ooked at you with eyes full of love.

"There'll always be a reason why you meet people.

Either you need to change your life,

or you're the one that'll change theirs."

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slytherinslut0 · 8 months

Text

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Nine-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theós fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: 18+, SMUT, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Dirty Talk, Toxic Behaviour, Jealousy, Possessive Behaviours, Manipulation, Gagging, Choking, Fingering, Denied Orgasm, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Slight FreeUse Kink, Sexual Aggression, CNC, DubCon.

***FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

"What's it like tutoring him twice a bloody week?" Emily said, her wide eyes pinned on the rowdy ruckus emanating from the Slytherin table, where Mattheo Riddle was of course reigned at the very center. "I'm surprised you even have any hair left. I'd probably pull mine out within the first two seconds of being alone with him."

You chuckled at her words, seemingly brushing her off, but your mind couldn't help to race with the thoughts of how fast everything escalated. In just a matter of weeks you'd gone from absolutely despising eachother, Mattheo seemingly not giving two shits about you or your tutoring sessions--to being unable to keep your fucking hands off each other every chance you got, while Mattheo somehow manages to get grades higher than he's ever gotten in his entire life.

Yeah, the guy was bloody fucking insufferable, and you still couldn't stand him on a day to day basis, but Gods you loved the way he touched you. You loved the way he made you feel.

"Believe me, every moment I manage to keep myself from throttling him is a miracle," you muttered under your breath, shifting your gaze back to your own table, silently praying the blush creeping up your cheeks went unnoticed. "He's beyond insufferable."

"I heard he fought someone for you," Emily's gaze fixated on you, her curiosity palpable as she leaned over the table toward you. "And not just someone...Berkshire, of all people? What on earth happened there? I can't believe you didn't tell me!"

Your stomach twisted into knots. You had managed to evade Emily's inquiries about Friday's incident by stealthily steering the conversation toward her favorite book, immersing yourself in studies, and strategically avoiding her whenever possible. Yet, you knew this conversation was inevitable. You had just honestly hoped it wouldn't come today, especially not when you were mere minutes away from your first reoccurring Tuesday meeting with Mattheo's brother.

Navigating this topic was like stepping on shards of glass, the memory of Mattheo's fierce defense cutting through your thoughts. Each recollection was a visceral experience, the clench of his fist, the predatory glint in his eyes, all etched into your mind like a painting of unrestrained intensity. The mere thought of his protective stance sent a shiver down your spine, leaving your skin electrified with the memory of his presence. Discussing the incident meant confronting the pulsating heat between your thighs, a tangible reminder of the way his concern wrapped around you like a cocoon.

"Mattheo skipped our tutoring session, so I ventured into the Slytherin common room to find him," you explained, your voice steady but your hands trembling slightly. "The entire Quidditch team was there, and Berkshire, well, he got upset over something I said and things escalated quickly."

Her eyes widened in anticipation, the unspoken question hanging in the air. "So Mattheo stepped in to save you? Defend you?"

"Both, technically," you responded, your voice laced with a mix of frustration and resignation. "But it was his fault to begin with. If he had just shown up for our session, none of that would have happened."

Emily's eyes widened in concern, her brows furrowing. "At least he had the audacity to step up for you," she said, her tone torn between disapproval and understanding. "He's been unhinged lately, picking fights with anyone who glances at him the wrong way. I even heard he got into it with his own brother...have you seen Tom's face? It looks like a bloody war zone."

Dread coiled tightly in the pit of your stomach, a sinking realization seeping into your veins. You'd taken nothing but a small, fleeting glance at Tom yesterday in class, avoiding eye contact in a desperate attempt to avoid any type of conversation--but anyone from a twenty mile radius could notice the blackened skin around his eyes, the split in his perfect plush lips.

The thought of facing him tonight clawed at your insides--the pretense you'd have to maintain, acting as though you were oblivious to the reason behind his battered face, felt like a weight pressing down on your chest. You knew the truth, you knew all too fucking well why he looked the way he did, and the knowledge hung between you like a fragile web, waiting to shatter at the slightest touch.

"I haven't," you said, steeling your shoulders to seem convincing. "But I heard that as well...nothing about that boy surprises me anymore."

You lied not out of malice, but out of self-preservation. Admitting that you knew the real reason behind Tom's injuries wasn't even in the question, wasn't even a thought to be had. Your lie was a desperate attempt to shield yourself from the storm you could see brewing on the horizon, a storm that threatened to consume everything in its path. So, you played your part, hoping that your facade would hold long enough to keep you out of the fray.

"Well, it should. He's mad, that one. I'd avoid him at all costs. Tutor him and run," she said bluntly, her words carrying a weight of caution as she packed up her books. "What are you doing tonight? We should study for Herbology."

Your stomach twisted again, tying into a tight knot as her words echoed in your ears. If only she knew the truth behind you and Mattheo's situation, if only she knew how bloody deep you were ensnared in his web. Desperate to change the subject, you cleared your throat, realizing you hadn't even told her about the fact that Tom had asked you to meet with him on Tuesdays.

"I...I can't...I'm meeting Tom tonight." You said, tentatively, pausing briefly in order to choose your next words carefully--knowing that regardless of how you explained it, she was bound to absolutely freak. "He asked we meet one-on-one each Tuesday, in addition to the Thursday guild meetings..."

Your words hung in the air, a heavy revelation that seemed to catch Emily off guard. She blinked, her previous endorsement of Tom Riddle echoing in her mind, seemingly frozen for a moment until her eyes widened with a spark of excitement.

"Woah, woah, woah..." she practically threw herself across the table at you, unable to control herself. "Why? What exactly did he say?!"

You hesitated, unsure of how to explain the complexity of the situation without divulging too much. "I don't know," you replied, your voice low. "He just...requested it, and I didn't feel like I could refuse."

"Oh my stars! I must be a fortune teller!" She giggled, revelling in her previous comment from last week. "Do you know what this means?! Do you know the opportunities this can open up for you if it turns into something more?! Imagine the scholarly collaborations, the doors to advanced research, and prestigious circles you could access...your academic reputation would soar, paving the way for extraordinary opportunities in the future-"

"Yeah, Emily, it's all very...exciting," you cut her off, your voice laced with a grumble, your mind racing with thoughts of Mattheo and the impossibility of being with someone like Tom, no matter how perfect he seemed on the surface. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves here, please."

"But, this is a golden opportunity!" Emily exclaimed, her brows furrowing in confusion. "I mean, it's Tom Riddle we're talking about. The doors he could open for you, the knowledge you could gain from him--it's practically a scholar's dream! Why aren't you more excited about this? Don't you see the incredible possibilities waiting for you?"

Your internal irritation churned like a storm, each pushy comment from Emily adding fuel to the fire. Mattheo's face, his touch, his words claiming you as his echoed in your mind, reminding you of the complexity he brought into your life. Despite the impossibility of a relationship with Mattheo, the mere thought of Tom felt like a betrayal, a path you couldn't tread because of fear of Mattheo's reaction.

"Gods, I get it, Emily," you snapped, your tone sharper than you intended, the pressure of your conflicting emotions bubbling over. "But not every connection is a ticket to social or academic advancement...sometimes it's about...something deeper." Your voice softened as you attempted to mend the sudden rift, regret colouring your words. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound so harsh...it's just...complicated, and I don't really want to rely on someone else for career or academic opportunities, it just...feels like cheating, you know?"

Emily nodded slowly, understanding dawning in her eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so pushy...it's just, you've never had a boyfriend...and Tom, well, I just think he'd be perfect for you." There was a warmth in her words, a sincerity that softened the edges of the conversation. "I have to meet Michael in the courtyard, we're going to study...I'll see you later tonight then, yeah?"

You managed a small smile, appreciating Emily's concern despite the frustrating conversation. "Thanks, Emily," you said, your voice softer now. "I'll see you later."

As Emily got up and left the table, a mix of relief and lingering irritation settled within you. You couldn't shake the internal turmoil, the conflicting emotions that came with both the budding relationship with Tom and the unrelenting thoughts of Mattheo. It was as if you were caught between two worlds, neither of which felt entirely right.

The tension in the air was almost tangible as Emily's footsteps faded away, leaving you alone at the table. The flickering candlelight danced on the polished wood, casting intricate shadows that seemed to mirror the complexity of your emotions. You felt like a character in one of the many novels you'd read, entangled in a plotline far more intricate than any you'd ever encountered.

As you rose from the table, your eyes met Mattheo's from across the room, his gaze piercing into your soul with a knowing intensity that sent shivers down your spine. There was something in his eyes, a depth of insight that left you feeling exposed, as if he could see through the layers you desperately tried to conceal. The unspoken connection between you both hung in the air, an invisible thread that refused to be severed.

Making your way to your dormitory, you couldn't shake the memory of Mattheo's gaze. It followed you like a ghost, haunting the corners of your mind as you picked out an outfit for your meeting with Tom. The anticipation hummed in the air, the atmosphere crackling with a strange energy. You opted for a slightly revealing top but still professional, a conscious choice to make an impression, to assert control over a situation that seemed increasingly beyond your grasp.

Walking down the dimly lit corridors of the castle, you felt a knot of apprehension tighten in your stomach. The library loomed ahead like a sanctuary of secrets, its ancient walls holding the wisdom of centuries. As you pushed open the heavy oak doors, your eyes met Tom's bruised face, seated in a secluded corner of the room, the evidence of Mattheo's anger etched into his skin. It was a stark reminder of the forces at play, the dangerous dance you found yourself entangled in.

You moved toward Tom cautiously, your footsteps echoing in the hushed silence of the library. His eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw the reflection of your own turmoil mirrored back at you, a depth of intensity in his stare that seemed to pierce through your very soul. As you approached, he rose from his seat with a fluid motion, his tall, commanding figure casting a confident shadow.

With a faint, enigmatic smile, he extended his hand in a gesture of greeting. "Top of the evening, darling," he said, his voice velvety and composed, the words hanging in the air with a subtle weight. "It's a pleasure to see you again."

As he spoke, his eyes never left yours, his unwavering gaze drawing you in further. "Evening, Tom..." you replied, your voice catching slightly as you took his hand, a rush of warmth spreading through you at his touch. "Pleasure to see you, as well."

With practiced elegance, he pulled out the chair for you, his movements precise and deliberate, a testament to his controlled demeanor. You allowed him to guide you into the chair, feeling the subtle brush of his fingers against your skin--once seated, Tom resumed his own place, his posture impeccable, exuding an air of sophistication and confidence.

"You're looking particularly lovely tonight," he said, his tone low and smooth, his dark eyes dipping over your chest. "I've been looking forward to meeting with you again more than I'd like to admit..."

Blush flooded your face, warmth spreading through you. "You are much too sweet, Tom...I'm not sure what I've done to deserve such compliments."

"I appreciate your modesty," Tom leaned back in his chair, smirking subtly. "Perhaps that's precisely what makes you so deserving."

As you engaged in conversation with Tom, your mind raced with thoughts of Mattheo, his presence lingering in your mind like a ghost in the room. Your gaze flickered involuntarily to the fading bruises on Tom's cheek, the scabbing split in his lip, and you simply couldn't ignore the discomfort in your throat. Despite your efforts to suppress it, an uneasy feeling settled in your stomach.

Tom's flirting, though subtle, only intensified your discomfort. You knew all too well how possessive Mattheo could be, and the mere thought of him overhearing even a hint of this conversation made you squirm internally. With a subtle shift in your tone, you ventured to inquire about an answer you already knew; hoping to solidify your innocence, your voice laced with nothing but concern.

"I couldn't help but notice the bruises," you murmured gently, your eyes flickering toward Tom's face. "If it's not too personal, may I ask what happened?"

"It was my brother," Tom admitted, his tone carrying a hint of exasperation. "He can be quite...stubborn, and tends to resort to physicality when he feels strongly about something. But it's nothing I can't handle. Sibling disagreements, I suppose. We've had worse."

He offered a small, dismissive smile, downplaying the severity of the situation, although his eyes betrayed a glimmer of frustration.

In response, you nodded, smiling softly. "Makes me glad I'm an only child."

"I imagine it has its perks," Tom replied, a subtle smile tugging at his lips. His gaze lingered on your face for a moment before he shifted the conversation. "By the way, how has your tutoring been going with my brother? I know he's quite the handful...I imagine your sessions are quite...intellectually stimulating."

Your lungs stalled, pulse quickening in your throat. There was something in the way he said it, a flicker of curiosity mingled with a hint of something else that made your stomach twist with unease.

"Oh, intellectually stimulating is one way to put it," you replied, trying to keep your tone light. "He's certainly...unique to work with, but we manage."

The room seemed to constrict around you, the air thick with tension as Tom's gaze bored into your soul, searching for hidden truths. His eyes, sharp and discerning, followed a deliberate path across your face, lingering on every contour as if trying to decipher the secrets etched in your skin. His fingers played with the pages of his book, tracing the edges with a calculated precision, a tangible unease settling between you.

His scrutiny intensified, his eyes dipping lower, skimming over your lips, then your chest, before locking onto yours with an unwavering intensity.

"You know, I've heard what you've done for my brother..." he continued, his voice a mere whisper, yet it echoed with a resonance that sent shivers down your spine. "Improving his grades in just a few short months...it seems you have a talent for reaching him in ways others couldn't, considering how resistant to tutoring he's been..." his tone darkened, a challenge flickering in his eyes. "I can't help but wonder what methods you employ to achieve such...drastic results."

In the charged silence that followed, you shifted slightly in your seat, feeling the weight of Tom's scrutiny like a physical presence. The room seemed to shrink around you, the air thick with tension and unspoken questions--you could tell he was pushing for something, but you refused to even give an inch.

You held your ground, meeting Tom's intense gaze with a steely resolve. "Teaching is about understanding individual needs and tailoring the approach accordingly," you replied, your voice firm. "Every student has their unique way of grasping concepts, and it's my job as a tutor to find that approach. It's not about methods; it's about recognizing potential and fostering it. Mattheo has the intellect; he just needed the right guidance to unlock it. That's what tutoring is all about; guidance, patience, and a genuine belief in the student's abilities."

Tom's lips curled into a knowing smile, his eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned closer. "A unique approach indeed," he murmured, his voice laced with intrigue. "Understanding someone like Mattheo requires more than just conventional tutoring methods, I suspect."

You felt a flush creep up your neck at his insinuation, his words hanging in the air like a tantalizing threat. There was an unspoken challenge in his gaze, as if he dared you to reveal the depths of your connection with Mattheo, and you were growing increasingly more uncomfortable with each passing second.

"I find your insinuations rather perturbing, Mr. Riddle," your voice dropped to a near-whisper, laced with firmness and defiance, your eyes narrowing in challenge as you leaned in closer, the tension between you palpable. "Mattheo may have a reputation, but he's a student here, just like the rest of us...he deserves a fair chance to succeed, without unnecessary assumptions clouding his progress. Don't you agree?"

The intensity in your gaze dared him to challenge your statement, refusing to back down in the face of his probing scrutiny. His lips curved into a sly smile, his eyes dancing with intrigue.

"Indeed, darling," he replied, his tone smooth like silk. "A commendable dedication to your students. It's a quality not often found in tutors."

The glint in his eyes hinted at a deeper curiosity, leaving you with the sense that he was far from convinced by your response, but when he changed the subject, seemingly dismissing it as though nothing even happened, you found yourself expelling a long breath of relief. You engaged in conversation with Tom for a while longer, the topics ranging from academics to shared interests in literature and the intricacies of magical theory. Despite the undercurrent of tension, you found yourself drawn into the conversation, momentarily forgetting the complexities of your situation.

As the night grew darker, Tom glanced at the time and offered to walk you back to your dorm room. You accepted his offer, and together, you strolled through the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts. Emily's words from early bounced around in your mind, reminding you of how good for you Tom could be, if you let him--but despite the intellectual conversations and the surface-level connection, something fundamental was missing, a spark that failed to ignite the depths of your soul.

In the silent moments between words, you couldn't help but compare the encounter with the electrifying energy that Mattheo stirred within you. With Mattheo, every glance, every touch felt charged with a raw intensity, a potent magnetism that left you breathless, angry, and alive. His presence had a way of awakening something dormant inside you, a flame that burned brighter in his proximity.

You could light fires with the feelings you felt for Mattheo--a passionate hate, one inexplicable by words.

When you arrived at the hall leading to your dormitory, Tom turned to face you, his demeanor exuding a dark, enigmatic energy that sent a shiver down your spine. There was a lingering hesitation in the air, a palpable tension that neither of you acknowledged, yet it clung to the atmosphere like a ghost. With a smile that held secrets you dared not explore, he leaned in, his gesture carrying a weight that made your stomach twist with unease.

"I enjoyed myself tonight." His lips brushed your cheek in a touch that was both gentle and possessive, leaving a cold trail in its wake, his hand curling around your waist. "Until next time, little witch."

His voice a mere whisper against your skin, his words sending an aggressive chill down your spine. His stature remained stoic and composed, his eyes holding a darkness that seemed to mirror the shadows lurking within the castle walls as he pulled back--in an attempt to hide your discomfort, you shot him a small smile.

"Goodnight, Tom." Keeping your voice steady was impossible. "Thanks for walking me back."

With one last knowing glance and a chilling smirk, Tom spun around, his footsteps echoing off the cold, empty corridor as he made his way back into the shadows, disappearing from your view. The silence that settled in his wake was thick with unspoken words, leaving you standing there, heart racing and mind clouded with a sense of foreboding.

You spun around, eager to continue your path down the hall, only managing to make it a few strides when the hushed whispers of the night were abruptly drowned out by a sudden rush of footsteps, too swift and too silent to be anything ordinary. Before you could react, a strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back into the shadows.

A door to a small closet was whipped open, and you were abruptly pulled inside, a gasp catching in your throat as you were abruptly slammed against the door as it shut behind you, your eyes widening as you found yourself face to face with Mattheo. His dark, stormy eyes bore into yours, a dangerous glint flickering within their depths. His hand pressed firmly against your mouth, silencing any protest that threatened to escape. The contrast of his icy touch against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, and a strange mix of fear and something else, something inexplicably alluring, tightened its grip on your chest.

Trapped in the narrow space between the unforgiving wooden door and Mattheo's overwhelming presence, your entire body roared to life, sparking dormant nerves. It was as though he had uncovered a realm of feelings you never knew existed, leaving you in awe and fear of the power he held over your senses. The memories of a time before his stifling dominance became elusive, fading like distant echoes as you grappled with the reality of his suffocating control.

His influence was a dense, intricate web that ensnared you effortlessly, making it difficult to discern where he ended and you began.

"You're a filthy little slut," he hissed, his words laced with dangerous venom, the lingering scent of cigarettes filling your nostrils. You tried to shake your head, but his hand kept your skull pressed firm to the wood behind it. "God, you're fucking filthy, Raven...look at you, dressed like this to meet with my fucking brother..."

You squealed into his palm as his free hand travelled down your stomach, wasting absolutely no time before slipping between your thighs and grazing over your sex--a low, deep growl reverberating through his chest as he pressed you against the door, suffocating you in a whirlwind of barely-restrained sadistic rage.

"You're so fucking lucky I didn't kill him...you're so fucking lucky I didn't rearrange his face until he was begging me for mercy just for fucking looking at you the way he was..." his grip over your mouth tightened, his words a demonized growl in your ear, your body reacting in inexplicable ways as he slipped his hand under the band of your leggings. "Fuck...I think you need to be reminded of your fucking place..."

You mewled, melting against his body and fusing with the wood of the door as he circled two fingers over your clit, teasing you with a quick swirl before he slid lower, slicking his fingers through your rapidly increasing wetness. When he pulled his palm off your lips, he didn't give you a mere second to gasp for air before he gripped your face and forced your jaw open with his thumb.

"So fucking wet for me already." His thumb pressed on your tongue, eliciting a gag, long fingers stretching over your cheek and entangling in your hair. His voice was a growl against your flesh, teeth grazing your jawline. "Tell me who the fuck you belong to."

"Fuck-" you gasped, crying out against him as he slipped a finger inside your cunt without warning, the blissful stretch inspiring a world of sensations you'd never known to exist--your pussy feeling full beyond comprehension with just one of his fucking fingers, every inch of your body trembling in response. "-you!"

"Shut the fuck up," he hissed, shoving his thumb deeper, hand shifting to grip the bottom of your jaw now, nails digging deep into your skin. "Fucking hell...you're so fucking tight, Raven...you can barely take my goddamn finger..."

A whimper escaped your lips, your hands clenching onto the fabric of his shirt as if it were your lifeline, your legs trembling uncontrollably beneath the weight of his touch, slowing finger fucking you while his thumb twirled over your clit, your entire body spasming with pleasure against him, your chest heaving for air, and your eyes rolling back in sheer ecstasy. You couldn't comprehend the overwhelming waves of pleasure consuming you, leaving you in a state of blissful delirium.

"Yeah, that's fucking right...feel that tight little cunt stretch for me..." his voice flowed like molasses, his curls tickling your cheek. "Fuck...how the fuck do you ever plan on taking my cock, hm?"

"Gods..." A haze of pleasure was clouding your vision, drool spilling from your mouth as he massaged your tongue with his thumb. "Oh, fuck...."

"Tell me who you belong to, Raven..." he ordered, voice a deep growl in your ear. "Tell me who this tight little cunt belongs to."

"You-" you choked, voice hiccuped through your moans and squeals of pleasure, words distorted with his thumb still planted between your teeth. "I-it belongs to y-you..."

"Yeah?" He pushed against you harder, lips attacking your neck, his aggressive erection pressing against your thigh, his body heat swarming you, suffocating you whole. "And who am I, princess...say my fucking name."

His fingers quickened their pace, sending jolts of electricity through your entire body. You convulsed in response, beads of sweat soaking the fabric on your back, the intensity of the moment leaving you breathless. He withdrew his hand from your mouth, leaving you gasping for air, and shifted it to your chest, groping and squeezing your tits like his life depended on it. His chest was rising and falling against you as he fingered you, brushing his thumb past your swollen clit, rocking his hand against you. Your pulse picked up, your breath coming faster, head spinning with the rapidly approaching climax on the horizon.

"Matt-" you choked, hardly able to string a cognitive sentence. "Mattheo...oh..."

Mattheo groaned, yanking down your shirt until your tits were fully exposed, his hungry eyes burning wounds into the soft flesh, his fingers working your cunt faster, bringing you directly to the edge of pleasure, ready to explode in his fucking hands.

"Mhm...dirty fucking whore..." his free hand toyed with your tits, his chest rumbled with a deep growl, echoing the intensity of the moment, while you struggled to stifle your cries, attempting to maintain some semblance of control over your escalating noises.

Despite your best efforts, your attempts at silence proved futile, shattering into desperate gasps as Mattheo sank his teeth into your neck.

"You want to cum for me, pretty girl? You want to cum on my fucking fingers?" You bobbed your head frantically, throat more arid than the desert. "Use your words, Raven..."

"Please," you whispered into the fabric covering his shoulder, hands clasping his arms. You couldn't get out much else as he grazed your clit again, bolts of ecstasy halting your ability to make words. "Please, please..."

"Please what?" he said, driving his finger deeper into your cunt.

"Let me cum," you said, voice torn with your irregular breath. "Please let me cum!"

At your words, Mattheo exhaled sharply, his fingers retreating from your cunt, leaving you stranded on the precipice of euphoria. The abrupt cessation of his touch left you in a tormenting state, teetering on the edge of an elusive climax, aching for fulfillment. Your frustrated moan of despair reverberated through the room, a raw manifestation of your desire. But before the sound could fully escape, Mattheo silenced you, his fingers forcibly invading your parted lips, triggering an involuntary gag reflex while his other hand closed around your throat, exerting a firm, possessive grip, ensuring your gasps and cries were swallowed in the stifling air of the closet.

"No," he hissed, voice a dangerous growl against your ear. "Only good girls get to cum...and you...you've been a bad little slut...remember when I said bad girls get fucking punished, Raven?"

A soft whimper escaped your lips, a harmonious blend of need and vulnerability as Mattheo's hand constricted around your throat, cutting off your oxygen supply. The exquisite agony of air deprivation was intertwined with a delightful buzz, amplifying the tingling sensation from your cunt to encompass your entire body. You felt every nuance intensely: the synchronized rhythm of your heaving chests, the pulsating restraint of his touch, and the restrained anger emanating from him like a tangible force.

"Wait until I get you alone tomorrow, Raven..." he murmured, voice laced with a promise of punishment. "You just fucking wait."

With a sudden, abrupt motion, he let you go, his grip loosening as he reached past you to pull open the door. The rush of cool air brushed against your skin as he swiftly exited through the door, leaving you in the aftermath of the intense encounter, your senses still tingling with the lingering traces of his touch.

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Chapter ten here->

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