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seren1tyhaze · 9 months

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Vibration

PAIRING: dilf!mark lee x afab reader

WORD COUNT: 2.9K

SUMMARY: Going home with Jaemin after another date leads to a night (and morning after) that you will never forget. Especially after you meet his incredibly hot Uncle Mark.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I present my official gift to my fellow Markfs for our beloved Mark Lee's birthday. This has been a long-standing, half-finished wip that was heavily inspired by MarkLeeInARobe2023 during that one live during tds2 where we are all pretty sure he wasn't wearing any underwear. Hope you all had a wonderful Mark Day and that you enjoy this gift from me to you :)

WARNINGS: explicit smut, alcohol consumption, mild swearing

PLAYLIST: Vibration by Mark Lee, Daddy Issues by Demi Lovato

Beast on the loose, rocking on Close your eyes and look Feel the vibration Do you feel alive?

“Shhhhhh…Jaem! We are going to get in trouble!” you squeal, dodging the tall man’s grabby hands as you wobble, almost dropping into the sparkling water of the pool under the night sky.

“Loosen up, silly,” he slurs back, bottle of tequila dangling from his long fingers dangerously over the slate tiles under your bare feet.

A third date with a cute guy from the IT department at work had turned into after dinner drinks and after after dinner drinks and dancing and shots and now you were stumbling around in the backyard of Jaemin’s house…?

“This is your house, right?” you ask, pausing and cocking your head to the right in punctuation as you watch him peel off his undershirt, his lightweight sweater long discarded half a bottle ago.

“I live here, yes,” he chuckles back, dropping down to let his feet dip into the light blue water of the beautiful pool set in the middle of the yard.

“My uncle is letting me stay with him for a few months before I find my own place.”

You take a moment to glance towards the large house in front of you. The entire back wall is floor to ceiling windows, giving a beautiful view of a modern and spacious kitchen, dim lighting illuminating granite countertops and shiny appliances. Jaemin’s uncle must be another one of these rich tech bros who never grew out of spending his money on shiny things. At least in this case you were benefiting from it.

You think you see some movement in the living room and are about to say something before you hear a loud splash and water shoots over your bare legs, dampening the flowy skirt of your thin dress.

Gasping, you shoot daggers at the smiley man in the pool, watching with interest as he dips his head back, running slender fingers through long auburn locks. You smile at him softly, tequila or lust clouding your judgment as you descend the stairs in the pool to meet him in the middle where your feet barely touch the bottom.

Jaemin’s hands find your waist underwater, pulling you closer to him as your dress billows out in the water, exposing you under the shimmering lights. A devious grin forms across his beautiful features as he tightens his grip on your waste and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Jaemin…don’t even think about it…” you warn, placing your hands on his shoulders preemptively.

Suddenly you are being tossed in the air and back into the water, head being pulled under the water and a muffled shriek bursting from your throat. You gasp for air as you break through the surface again only to find the charming boy in front of you laughing maniacally, clutching his middle underwater.

“Na Jaemin!” comes a loud voice, causing you both to snap your heads back towards the house, to find a blonde man with round wire frame glasses on the tip of his nose standing in black silk pajamas near the glass sliding door.

Jaemin is suddenly next to you and your heart is racing as the man takes another step closer to the pool, stepping into the moonlight. The rippling water of the pool is casting bright flashes across his face and strong frame, pants hugging his thighs before flaring out in a perfectly tailored length. His hair is on the longer side, similar to Jaemin’s but a beautiful pale blonde, dry and silky.

“Uncle Markkkk,” Jaemin slurs, tossing an arm around your shoulder, hand tangling instinctively in your long wet hair. You shrug violently in an attempt to get away from him, blush flaring up on your cheeks as you meet the stern man’s gaze.

“It’s late, use the indoor hot tub if you’re going to be out here. I don’t need pissed off neighbors,” he adds before turning on his heel to head back in the house. You don’t miss how his plump ass is accentuated by the silky material and have a hard time dragging your eyes away. Before he’s even out of sight, Jaemin’s hands are hungrily all over you again, sliding up your wet back to massage your shoulders.

“Jaemin, stop,” you warn, avoiding his kiss with a shake of your head. Getting caught has thrust you back to an embarrassed reality and you’re already plotting your escape via a long Uber ride back to your apartment.

“Don’t worry about Mark, he’s cool, I promise,” Jaemin coos, connecting his lips with your neck, wicked tongue making quick work at marking the skin there.

You melt under his touch, weak for that particular spot, and close the gap to connect further with his chest. Slotting your lips with his, you lick behind his teeth greedily, wrapping your arms around his neck and sighing against his lips.

“Fine, but take me inside, you owe me a shower and warm clothes,” you whisper against his mouth, linking your legs around his waist and grinding against his crotch as a silent promise.

The next morning you wake up to an empty bed and sun streaming through the window. It feels late but when you check your phone you realize it was around the time you would wake up on a weekday. The house is silent and Jaemin’s backpack is gone from where he had messily strewn it the night before.

A note on his desk indicates he had been called into the office on this peaceful Saturday to deal with a possible data breach and you are welcome to anything in the kitchen. You check your phone to realize he’s already sent you money for an Uber and your heart sinks. He was cute, cuter than you usually went for and way too nice for you. You now know this has to be the last date with him, your commitment issues flaring up.

Mk usually plays tennis on Saturdays so the coast should be clear. Call me later xx

You sink into his desk chair, crumpling the note and letting it fall into the small waste basket. After a quick wash of your face and brush of your teeth, you shrug into one of Jaemin’s oversized hoodies, letting it drop long on your thighs and covering the boxer briefs he had lent you last night. Combing through your hair with your fingers, you pull the hood up over your head and pad downstairs, louder than you would have in someone’s home.

Making your way into the kitchen, you go straight to the fridge, yanking it open to find glass bottles of water lining the door. You uncap one and take it down in one gulp, thirsty beyond belief.

“Jaeminnie, we need to talk about last night,” comes the same voice who had startled you by the pool the night before.

You freeze, pushing the fridge door shut slowly. In the hoodie and boxers, with your hair and frame covered, you know you could easily be mistaken for the boy you had gone home with. You had similar build and heights and a quick glance over your shoulder confirms that Mark hadn’t lowered the newspaper he was reading.

“You can’t just keep fucking every beautiful girl you meet in my pool. What would my brother say about how I’m letting you spend your summer?” he continues in a condescending tone as you back up against the island, nervous to turn around.

“And by the sounds of you two in the shower, it sounds like she’s sexy as hell and quite the catch, so don’t you think it’s about time you settled down?” he finishes, lifting his tone up in a question, never lowering the paper.

You place the empty bottle down on the glossy countertop and cross the kitchen to the table where he sits, placing manicured fingertips on the top of the paper to get his attention.

“Quite the catch? Sexy as hell? Oh do tell me more about this beautiful girl,” you reply with a smirk, pulling the newspaper from the shocked man’s face.

“Jesus, fuck, I’m so sorry…” Mark trails off as you push the hood off your head, shaking your locks temptingly and giving him a quizzical cock of your brow.

“Don’t be sorry,” you start, leaning your hip against the edge of the table as you watch panic wash over his face.

His face looks freshly washed with no doubt luxury skincare applied immediately after and he is lounging casually in a dark blue robe with white trim, ML embroidered in gold thread at the chest. His toned chest is peaking through, belt loose at the waist and legs spread wide, bare legs ending in soft slippers planted on the floor.

“I heard someone leave early so I assumed it was you. I had no idea you were still here,” he tries to explain, fidgeting with the dangling edge of the belt. His eyes are struggling to meet yours, as you train your gaze down at him with your hands now shoved in the hoodie pocket.

“He had to head to work. He said you wouldn’t be here,” you reply softly, now feeling bad for grilling him as he squirmed below you. He looked soft and sweet in the morning light, drastically different from the stern fatherly tone he took last night at the edge of the pool.

“Can I make you a cappuccino? Some eggs?” he asks, sitting up in the chair, bare knees bumping against yours and sending a shiver up your spine.

“Hmm I was thinking of how I could repay you for your hospitality. This is quite a beautiful home you have here, Uncle Mark,” you reply, brushing your hand across his that was resting on his knee.

He winces at the name but looks down at your hand on his, turning his over to let your fingers lace with his. The tips of his fingers are calloused and you silently wonder if he plays guitar, having noticed some framed records on the wall on the stairs.

“Mark, please, just Mark,” he replies, voice coming out gravelly, eyes dying to roll into the back of his head at the name.

“And it’s fine, I don’t know how to make eggs anyways,” he adds, squeezing your hand gently as you move your other to the belt at his waist.

“Of course a filthy rich guy like you doesn’t cook,” you reply lightly, dropping down to your knees, releasing his hand and placing both your palms on his knees, knocking the edge of the robe out of the way to expose his bare thighs. As far as you can tell, he isn’t wearing any underwear and the thought of his hardening cock bare against his thigh makes you squeeze your legs together.

Mark widens his legs as his eyes narrow, watching you sitting back on your legs in front of him, baggy material pooling around your thighs. Before you can reach to pull the knot of his belt loose, he leans down and you feel your eyes slide shut, assuming he’s going to kiss you. He chuckles instead, breath warm across your lips as he tugs at the hood of the sweatshirt.

“Take this off now,” he commands, sitting back up in the chair and pulling at the belt himself, letting it slip to the floor. The robe falls open, revealing a toned and lean torso accompanied by muscular arms. His cock is hard and flushed red against his stomach and an evil smile is spread across his lips.

As soon as you’ve removed the offending material, your eyes go immediately to his cock, teeth sinking into your lower lip as you take in the sight of him. He’s dripping with sex appeal and you can’t help but stare. He’s definitely older than you and Jaemin but can’t be too much older by the look of his physique. His face is young and the blonde dye of his hair makes it impossible to detect any grays, if he even has any.

“Now where’s that thank you I was promised?” he asks, tipping his chin down to speak to you, hand balled into a fist at his knee. His eyes continue trailing down, landing on your breasts being pressed together by your bare upper arms as your hands rest on your knees. You look like a dream kneeling before him in nothing but gray boxers and it’s taking everything in him not to fuck you over the counter top.

You lean forward, sliding your hands gently up his smooth inner thighs, taking his leaking cock in your hand and lowering your lips to the head. You listen as Mark’s breathing slows and hear a soft moan slide from his lips as you close your lips around him, running the point of your tongue over his sensitive slit.

You chuckle at the noise, sending vibrations across him, using your hand to work the base of his shaft as you kitten lick his head. You let your teeth drag lightly against him every once and a while, tasting his woody musk. You let your eyes slip shut, rocking back and forth on your knees, the energy coursing through your body making you feel more alive than ever.

A disgruntled noise from above draws your gaze up and his hand is suddenly in your hair, pulling the long locks into a ponytail to pull you off his dick.

“Come on, sweetie, I know you can do better than that. I heard how Jaemin fucked your throat last night - my bed shares a wall with the shower,” he grunts out, voice dripping with filth as he accurately recounts your actions from the night before.

Spurred on by his words, you take his cock deep in your mouth, brushing up against the back of your throat as you hollow your cheeks around him. You’re suddenly desperate to prove how well you can take him, despite being slightly bigger than Jaemin and holding far more confidence in the way he carries himself.

Mark lets out a high pitch yelp and you swear you can hear his voice break as he does, sliding his hand down your neck and to your upper back, causing you to shift forward and take him impossibly deeper. Your nose is pressed up into neatly trimmed hair and your eyes begin to water as he lifts his ass off the chair to thrust into your throat. You shift to accommodate him and look up through your lashes to him.

“Holy hell, that’s good,” he groans, arm muscles tensing as he digs his fingertips into your back, no doubt leaving bruises there.

You slide off him, dragging your tongue on the underside of his shaft and swirling around his tip. He squeezes his eyes shut tight behind his glasses, free hand pushing through strands of blonde that had fallen in front of his face.

Without much warning he is shooting warmth across your lips and chest, letting out a deep groan and reaching down to fist at himself through his orgasm. He looks down at you with a smile, lips curling up as if he’s about to say something devious.

“MELT! Babe, are you here?” comes a loud voice, echoing off the walls of the kitchen and causing you to pull back, heart pounding in your chest.

A tall, long-legged man in a polo shirt and athletic shorts appears, his socked feet coming to a stop at the sight of you on your knees on the glossy floor. His hair is dark and lightly permed, long bangs hanging perfectly over his eyebrows and a dainty gold chain laying against his tanned neck.

He gives you a long look up and down, eyes pausing on the cum glazing your lips as you freeze and dart nervous eyes over to Mark, who looks unbothered.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? Looks like Markie found something fun to do instead of tennis this morning,” comes his warm voice as he leans against the entryway to the kitchen.

“Ah Hyuckie, let me be, I texted you while you were golfing,” Mark says with a roll of his eyes and a huff, reaching a soft hand to your chin to pull you to your feet.

“Meet my not-so-better-half, Haechan,” Mark adds, comment directed at you as he brushes his lips against the corner of your mouth, licking away the remains of his release left there.

You gulp and drop your head sheepishly, looking down to your bare chest and covering it nervously with your arms. Twice in less than 24 hours you had been caught in a compromising position and this time you simply wanted to melt into the floor.

Haechan closes the space between you and you feel a hand in your hair, pulling you up gently to meet his gaze. His eyes are sparkling and beautiful, dark moles dotting his cheek and lips plump and soft.

“She’s cute,” he says to Mark, dipping his head down to brush his lips against your collarbone, tongue darting out to taste some of Mark’s cum on your skin.

“Tastes good too,” he adds with a smile.

“Did you enjoy sucking off my husband, darling?” he asks, dark eyes swimming with mischief. He looks breathtaking up close, features just as pretty as Mark’s and voice dripping with lust.

“Husband…” you trail off, unable to form a coherent sentence. You shoot daggers at Mark, who merely smiles and rolls his eyes again before moving to the coffee machine and starting to make another coffee.

What the fuck had you gotten yourself into?

#nct smut #nct x reader #mark lee fanfic #mark lee x reader #mark lee smut #mark lee #nct fanfic #jaemin x reader #jaemin smut

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faintrustle · 10 days

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ENTP GOJO SATORU x INFP READER: Cuddles and Kisses

Lying on your bed, Satoru Gojo idly flicked through his phone, occasionally glancing up at the ceiling. He wore a pair of loose grey sweatpants and a simple white t-shirt, looking comfortable and casual. The weekend had flown by, and it was already evening.

He paid you a visit to your apartment and spent the day relaxing, watching TV, and enjoying your company. He stretched out on the bed, feeling content and comfortable. Hearing the bathroom door open, Satoru looked over to see you entering the room.

His heart skipped a beat when he saw your beautiful figure adorned in a pair of light blue pajamas. They were actually a gift from him - a set featuring adorable white cats wearing round shades printed on the cotton fabric. The sight of you immediately captured his attention, and he forgot all about his phone.

Your boyfriend’s gaze traveled up from your feet, taking in every inch of your body, until it reached your eyes. There was a soft smile on your lips as you saw him looking at you, and it sent a wave of warmth through him. He slowly sat up, tossing his phone aside.

"You look—!" Satoru was caught off guard when you suddenly jumped onto the bed, landing squarely on top of him. He let out a surprised laugh as you wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in his chest.

"Cuddle time!" you exclaimed happily.

Feeling your warmth and the softness of your body against his, he couldn't help but smile. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer, and nuzzled his face into your hair. He realized that you had interrupted him mid-sentence.

"I was just saying..." he began, trailing off as he kissed the top of your head. "Never mind that. Let's just cuddle." For now, he was content to enjoy the cuddles with you.

“Yey!” you exclaimed like a child who had just been given their favorite candy. Your excitement was contagious, making Satoru grin down at you.

“Is someone happy?” Both of you were lying now side by side on the bed, bodies pressed together. Your head was nestled under your boyfriend’s chin while your arms wrapped around his waist.

On the other hand, Satoru wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you even closer. He could feel your heartbeat through the contact, and it brought a sense of calmness to him. He began to gently stroke your hair, running his fingers through the soft strands as he breathed in your unique scent.

You looked up at his handsome face, your eyes sparkling with affection. "Hmm." You nodded, biting your lower lip and smiling.

"You were away for three days. You don’t know how much I missed you…” you said softly, your cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink. “That’s why I’m now craving for your full attention…”

Hearing you say those sweet words made Satoru's heart melt. His hands moved down to tightly wrap you around your waist, pulling you upward to his chest.

"Awwh, I missed you too, kitten," he replied softly and affectionately. "But you don’t have to ask for attention. You’ll always get it from me.”

You blushed so cutely that he couldn't resist the urge to cup your cheeks in his hands. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss before moving to your left red cheek, where he placed a soft peck. Then, he moved to your right cheek, repeating the process.

After planting a final kiss on your cheek, Satoru pulled back slightly, his cerulean eyes locked onto yours. A warm smile spread across his face as he brushed a strand of hair away from your forehead.

"Y/n," Satoru breathed, his voice thick with emotion. "I can't even begin to describe how crazy I am for you. Every time I look at you, I fall deeper in love.”

You stared into each other's eyes while your hearts raced in sync. The air felt thick with love and desire. As if time itself had slowed down, your boyfriend leaned in, his lips barely touching yours.

“I love you to infinity…"

With that, Satoru captured your lips in a kiss filled with love, longing, and passion. The taste of him sent shivers down your spine, and you clung to him as if your life depended on it. His tongue danced with yours, exploring every inch of your mouth as his hands roamed over your body, claiming you as his own.

The world ceased to exist as both of you lost in the heat of the moment. Your love for each other was the only constant in the chaos that surrounded the two of you…

OP's Note: Just inserting this song because it's so me for Gojo.

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izvmimi · 1 year

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love is here - izuku x reader, all might x inko

cw: fluff, smut, domestic, valentine's day content. bkg with mentioned female partner. pregnancy mention. minors dni. summary: you and Izuku decide to celebrate another couple's love this Valentine's Day. a/n: a repost from last year's valentines' day fic because i still think it's cute. features 1 terrible joke.

“Red or white?”

While checking the chicken cutlets still browning in the oven, you reflexively call out in reply,

“Red. Has to be red.”

“Of course.”

Closing the oven door, you glance over at Izuku who is hunched over in the glass cabinet in the portion of the living room you can see from your vantage point, and hear the clinking of glass bottles as your husband rummages through your admittedly small stores of alcohol. He pulls out a classic Pinot, and you recognize it as the pretty expensive one Bakugou and his wife (well mostly his wife, really) offered you months ago when you’d first moved into this new home.

“This one?” He asks.

You tilt your head slightly, pondering. “Does your mom even like red wine at all?”

“I’m actually not sure,” he thinks, frowning as he attempts to recall any time he might have caught her drinking.

You purse your lips. “I think we have a Riesling in there. It’s sweet, she might like it,” you ask, before turning back to the kitchen to set up the rest of the dinner items.

Taking a glance at your phone, you check to see if Toshinori has replied to your text message requesting his ETA. The last answer you have from him is a sticker of his own face giving you a thumbs up and it makes you stifle a laugh. It kills you every time he does it, truly Dad behavior.

As Izuku rounds the corner of the kitchen island to place the bottles within a decorative ice bucket on the dining table, he presses a kiss to your forehead. You smile, but then you remember his earlier deceit and shake your head.

“I cannot believe you told Inko I was pregnant!”

He rearranges the bottles as well as a large bouquet of red, pink and white roses with a devious grin on his face, then raises an eyebrow at you.

“Is it really that bad?” He asks, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “It’s just a little white lie.”

“Villain,” you mutter under your breath just as your timer goes off. He laughs out loud.

The next few moments involve you laying down two fine placemats across from each other, your nicest china, far too much cutlery (based on a guide both of you read about fine dining), and sparkling crystal glasses. Herbed chicken parmesan, steaming buttery lobster, roasted brussels sprouts, garlicky mashed potatoes, and angel hair pasta lightly tossed with olive oil and stewed grape tomatoes are set on the table along a light salad. You remembered something about All Might liking Western food and wondered if this was what he was thinking of.

Then you suddenly remembered something else.

“Oh noooo, he doesn’t drink!” you exclaim. Before you can scramble for non-alcoholic options, Izuku has placed a particularly decorative container of sparkling water on the table.

“Just ahead of you,” he says. Always ready to save the day.

Water seems a little lackluster for a romantic dinner, you consider grumbling, but the table looks so beautiful by now that you decide not to let the perfect be the enemy of the good.

“Everything looks amazing!” You announce, clasping your hands together. Izuku agrees and starts the music while you lower the lights, a very light jazzy mix, and as though right on cue, you hear a knock on the door while Izuku begins to light the red and pink candles one by one.

It’s Inko.

She’s dressed far nicer than you usually see her, green locks fully down for once, and you can tell that she’s taken her time to actually perform the skincare routine you’d recommended for her. In fact, you consider that her skin looks a lot healthier than yours and it brings you joy. There’s even a tiny bit of blush she’s applied to her cheeks and a touch of lipstick. The greatest thing she wears however, aside from her coral pink sheath dress, is a wide smile.

“___, congratulations!”

Your mother-in-law envelops you into a hug and for a moment her genuine unbridled joy makes you feel bad that Deku had come up with such a bad lie. You mentally remind yourself to scold him later a second time as you hug her back.

“I- uh… Yeah!” There’s an awkward laugh you let out as she pulls back and holds you by your arms, small tears of joy forming in her eyes. Your stomach turns.

“He told me there would be pictures so I dressed up and-” she starts, but by this time Izuku senses your discomfort and swoops in between you to give his mother a warm hug, then leads her to her seat.

Inko is asking so many questions - How many weeks? Have we thought of names? Are you doing okay? Are you nervous? - that she doesn’t realize her son has sat her down and unraveled a napkin to place on her lap. Nor has she noticed that there are only two placemats laid out, or that you have just gotten a text from Toshinori that says he’ll be there in five minutes.

Smiling as Izuku stands besides her and deflects all her questions, you wonder if all of this is ethical. You may be teasing Izuku for his lie, but you’ve also told All Might that you were surprising Izuku for his birthday and throwing a party.

“That’s five months early?!” He’d asked on the phone.

To which, you sang, “That’s why it’s the perfect surprise!”

You’d given him too short of a notice to ask too many questions, and it worked out perfectly well because you could hear a second knock on your door.

As Inko’s eyes flitted to the door, her frown made it clear that she was realizing something was fishy.

“Am I missing something here?” she started, but before she could press further, All Might all but burst through the door, in powered up form and in a finely pressed shirt and tie, with his signature catchphrase -

“I AM HE-”

He stops abruptly, blinking back and forth as he searches the room significantly lacking in people, slightly dark with mood lighting, and his eyes finally settle on Inko.

And he realizes just before she does.

Inko gets to her feet quickly, immediately apologizing at the squeak of the legs of the chair scraping against the floor as she scoots back, but points at All Might.

“You are-”

“Here,” they say in unison.

All Might nearly chokes as he powers down in a poof and slightly entertained but holding in your amusement, you pat his back, leading him to the seat across from Inko, who is being settled right back into her chair by Izuku massaging her shoulders.

“You tricked me,” Toshinori mutters helplessly under his breath, and you nod sweetly.

“Of course I did, All Might,” you say, patting his shoulder. He gives you a sharp glare behind him, meant to intimidate but failing miserably, then turns back to stare down at his plate.

It doesn’t take a genius to realize what’s going on here. You can see the redness on Toshinori’s sallow cheeks and it actually stirs your heart a little.

Izuku turns down the music from the speaker set on the bar for just a moment before clasping his hands together.

“Yes, so we lied!” He announces. “But!”

He pauses and points to the spread before them. “____ did a lovely job today with all the cooking, and we wanted to spend this Valentines’ Day focused less on us…”

With this, he takes hold of your hand and squeezes it and you can’t stop the warmth that builds in your own face.

“… and on the two of you.”

Inko gives Izuku a look that is something like a pout but she stays seated. All Might on the other hand shifts almost uncomfortably in his chair for a moment, and for a split second you wonder, standing close to Izuku and whispering, did we go too far? in his ear, if All Might will end up leaving and making the whole ordeal genuinely uncomfortable.

But then, he clears his throat.

“M-Midoriya-san, you look lovely,” he says definitively and almost in unison, you and Izuku’s hearts skip a beat. You’re probably boring a hole in Inko’s forehead at this point as you wait for her reply, and just to make sure you don’t continue to stand there creepily you nudge Izuku to start pouring drinks.

“Thank you,” she says after a pause. Her voice is gentle. “You look quite handsome yourself.”

You almost knock over her glass of red wine in surprise and Izuku’s eyes widen in your direction, but he himself is dangerously close to overflowing Toshinori’s glass.

You make a face and he catches himself. You both agree that it’s time to leave.

After describing the menu lightly, the two of you let them know that you’ll be returning in a couple hours and have reservations of your own. Inko mutters something teasing about being cheap to one’s parents but heavily compliments the food regardless. You notice her generously spooning pasta onto Toshinori’s plate and his distracted look as he focuses on her face.

This ship will sail, you think.

“The car’s waiting for us,” Izuku points out, grinning, as you run over with a last glance at Izuku’s parental figures. He helps you put on your coat, and you hug him tightly as the door closes behind you.

…

By the time the two of you return, it’s fairly late. You’d been polite enough to send a message to Inko and ask her if she needed more time, and she had asked for 45 more minutes, to which Izuku responded with sheer delight.

“She’s been lonely for a while to be honest,” Izuku mentions as you make it up the elevator. “I wish I had realized it earlier.”

It must have been different for Izuku who had met Toshinori young, when the wistful look had not been present in Inko’s eyes, but you’d sensed it the first time you saw Inko and All Might interact. A little something, that was subtle and polite and respected boundaries, but ever-present and shared. Was it their shared hope for Izuku’s growth? Was it something more than that? You would never truly know what it was that engendered that affection but it didn’t really matter.

What did matter was that when you finally returned, All Might’s hand held Inko’s gently across the table. He did retreat rapidly once he saw the two of you and you only pretend to bounce your eyes for privacy.

“Did you enjoy the food?” Izuku asks cheerfully, as he clears the dishes and the leftovers for them. The Riesling is nearly gone, you notice, and you wonder if All Might had ended up helping finish off the bottle.

“Absolutely!” They say in unison, then look at each other again, and you can see that gentle fire between them that rivals the still burning candles surrounding them.

“Good,” you reply. Very good.

You sit down at the table with them and share in gentle commentary and a little bit of banter before the two are ready to make their exit and relish in the genuine smile on Inko’s face.

She’s cute when she crushes, you think. It’s another side of the lovely woman who made the one you love, and you can’t wait to tease her about it later, if only to get back at her for the fact that before the “real” adults leave, they admonish you for lying.

“Pregnancy?! How could you lie about something so serious, Young Midoriya?!”

All Might is genuinely in shock as he stands in the doorway and for once Izuku actually is a bit embarrassed because his mentor’s face is so intensely disappointed that there’s not much he can say in response. He scratches at the back of his neck.

“See, the kids were polite enough to give you a lie that was far less grave… however, how could you seriously believe in a 5 month early surprise party?” Inko asks, slapping All Might with her handbag. He makes an exaggerated pained sound, as though she knocked the wind out of him and she laughs, linking arms with him before they leave.

“Thank you again for dinner,” they say and the two of you beam.

“Our pleasure,” you say in unison then laugh.

—

It takes the changing of clothes into bare skin and soft lingerie, gentle necking between satin sheets and far too many rose petals to completely distract the two of you from the events of earlier today. You are comfortably nestled in Izuku’s arms, legs tangled with his and face pressed into his bare chest until he stirs suddenly.

“Oh my God.”

Izuku shoots up straight like a board and you can practically feel the sudden sharp panic run through his entire body. He’s muttering something unintelligible under his breath and you give him a look of confusion until he finally speaks.

“What if he Plus Ultras my mom?”

“… What?” You repeat, incredulously.

He clutches his head dramatically.

“H-he’s going to have sex…with my…” his mouth falters.

You gasp when you finally realize what he means, then pause for a moment before bursting into genuine rip-roaring laughter. Izuku stares at you in continued distress as you end up in tears, covering your face with a pillow, peeking up at him, then laughing even harder at the pallor in his features.

“You have to be kidding me?! This just occurred to you now???” You crumble into another fit, kicking your legs this time into the mattress while Izuku is frozen as still as a statue.

He might as well be shell-shocked.

A few moments pass as you try to recollect yourself, and maybe acceptance has finally set in because he mutters under his breath something about this whole ordeal possibly being a mistake, but nevertheless pulls you to face him, cupping your face in his large hands.

“Just don’t think too hard about it,” you whisper, pushing your hand through his locks, gently rubbing the back of his head.

He sighs into your touch.

“If I do, I’ll probably lose my boner,” he says, pursing his lips to the side. You laugh again and he eventually melts into a smile, and kisses you on the nose.

As he pulls back, his demeanor changes into something more smug, a tease. It’s the type of look he has when he’s about to be lewd and it’s a sudden shift but you welcome it.

“What?”

His eyes lower to your lips again, and he bites your lower one, then pulls back slowly.

“You know how I got in trouble for saying you were pregnant?”

“For lying,” you corrected him, with a raised eyebrow. He dips down and bites your upper lip, slower and more sensual this time. The sting of the bite has you wanting for a little more than just kisses, and he’s well aware of it.

He trails a finger up the curve of your thigh then rests his hand on your hip. Rubbing gently, he whispers, tone low and rich.

“What if we made it true tonight?”

Your throat dries and you swallow hard. He takes it as a yes and hooks a finger around the crotch of your panties, then another finger rubs up and down your slit. He stops right at the entrance to your pussy and presses inward. You wince.

A thumb finds your clit and his lips find yours again. There’s a deeper kiss this time, and he pulls back once again.

“What do you think?” He asks, and the fact that he is starting to take more strained breaths is not lost on you.

“Are you sure you can guarantee that in one night?” He’s far too confident, and you do like to shake it teasingly, once in a while.

“It’s not like I didn’t do the math,” he says. “You should be right around ovulation based on the last time I did a tampon and ice cream run for you,” he insists.

His fingers are still working and you gasp as he adds another.

“Izuku…,” you moan.

“I just need to cum inside you,” he insists, and with that he shifts so that he’s on top of you, hissing into your ear as your back arches and his hands pump.

“Once, twice… maybe ten times,” he says, with extra emphasis on the word ‘ten’, his fingers freeing themselves from the hold of your walls. You already miss the sensation of him inside you, and you grip his shoulders tightly.

“How’s that sound?” He asks, watching the lowering of your eyelids and the parting of your lips, your green lights.

You tense as he dips down to take a breast in his mouth, then relax, wrapping your arms around the expanse of his muscled back.

You don’t mind giving birth to a Scorpio.

“Let’s make an honest man out of you,” you murmur into his neck, bracing yourself for his first glide in.

#izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku smut #all might x inko #daydreams: bnha #thoughts: izuku #mimi's valentines #mimi's notes

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scarerjh · 1 year

Text

Coffee Prescription

Marcus Pike f!reader/you

Summary: Being treated in the hospital, Marcus Pike can’t resist the cute Doctor.

Warnings: None, just fluffity fluff.

Notes: A little meet cute. I haven’t actually seen The Mentalist so this may be a little OOC, but tough, it’s cute

“Marcus Pike!” hearing his name he quickly excused himself from the phone call and made his way toward the doctor.

“Yes!” a voice appeared as a man with a bandage on his nose and a phone to his ear stood up. He was cute! At least you would have some scenery while you worked. Escorting him into the examination room you introduce yourself before confirming his details and asking him to get comfortable on the examination couch.

“What happened?” you enquire as you wash your hands. You notice a little blush on his cheeks as he scoffs slightly.

“I wasn’t looking where I was going and walked into some plywood,”

“Oh dear,” you chuckle.

“Yeah,”

“Well, let’s look at the damage,” you gently start to peel the makeshift bandage from his nose, before apologising in advance for the sting as you cleaned it up; gently soaking the dried blood and wiping it away.

When following you into the examination room Marcus thought you were pretty, now, having you close as you tended to him, you were beautiful. When you sat back and gave a satisfied little hum, he couldn’t help but smile at how sweet it was.

“So, this plywood just attacked you out of nowhere?” you tease a little, trying to put him at ease as you clean up the mess.

“Yeah, just…pow,” he gestured towards his face in a mock punch, throwing his head back dramatically.

“I hope you called the police,”

“No need,”

“No need?! You should be pressing charges,”

“It’s all in hand,” he showed his badge.

“Oh! I bet that plywood is regretting his life choices right about now,”

“Definitely,” he chuckled. You were taken aback by how bright his smile was; eyes sparkling as little crinkles appeared around their edges, a dimple in his cheek giving him a boyish charm. Little did you know, the smile you returned was equally as captivating to Marcus, your expression open, honest, and genuine.

“So, what’s the damage?”

“You’re going to need a few stitches,”

“Well, there goes my beauty pageant,”

Setting up what you needed you were grateful for this distraction, desperately hoping he would forget you ever opened your mouth; his gorgeous face, the easy back and forth, the teasing was making you increasingly flustered. If you weren’t careful, you’d be kicking your feet and twirling your hair round your finger at any moment.

“Don’t worry, I’ll have your pretty face back together in no time,” the words were out before you realised. As mortification quickly surpassed your embarrassment, Marcus smiled kindly as you averted your gaze, busying yourself with getting your equipment together. God you were cute!

With everything prepared you finally met his eyes again, and his smile was soft, not giving away anything to suggest he was uncomfortable.

“You ready?”

“I think so, is it going to hurt?”

“The stitches shouldn’t, but the numbing will,”

“Can I hold your hand?” he brazenly flirted, and your eyes widened in shock, but a little smile also graced your features letting him know it was well received, if unexpected.

“If I do this one handed you are not winning that pageant,”

“I really need to defend my title, Debbie from accounts is stiff competition,”

“I’ll do my finest work, I promise,”

After numbing you set to work, quiet concentration on your face as you teased the delicate skin closed.

Marcus’ nostrils were filled with your delicate perfume; with you so close he became transfixed by your eyes. The sheer focus in them really spoke to your competence, and as he allowed his gaze to linger, he noticed the most startling flecks of colour in your irises. From there he moved on to the swell of your cheekbones towards the tip of our nose, one of the few sounds in the room your soft breath as you worked. As you shifted, something glittered in his periphery, finding your little skull earrings he was unable to suppress a smile. A bit of a rebel, he assumed.

You weren’t oblivious to him studying your face, but you were concentrating, you weren’t letting some gorgeous FBI agent to deter you from your mission, even if you kind of wanted him to. You had the overwhelming urge to sniff him, a long deep inhalation of the scent of vetiver and something woodsy or musky. His studying gaze you could deal with, but the smile that suddenly appeared in the corner of your eye was too much and you looked up ready to question his amusement. What stopped you in your tracks was the two beautiful orbs of dark, chocolatey goodness, they were so dark you could barely make out his pupils. The reflection of the lights as his eyes met yours gave rise to flecks of amber, and the hold of your gaze by his stole your breath away.

Marcus’ fingers twitched at his side with the compulsion to gently caress the soft skin of your cheek. Were you feeling this too? He hoped to God you were.

There was a pull towards him, a magnetic movement of millimetres that had your heart racing whilst the air thickened around you both; your gaze dropping to a plush set of lips finally shocked you out of it.

“I’m so sorry,” you sat back, creating space between you to breathe.

“No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been so…it’s my fault,”

“No, I’m the professional here. I can get another doctor to finish off your stitches,”

“No, please, it’s okay,” he put a gentle hand on your arm. “Seriously, you have been nothing but kind, charming, and professional,” your shoulders relaxed slightly at the sincerity in his voice.

“Thank you,”

“You’re welcome, now let’s finished getting me pageant ready,” he grinned as he made you laugh; a full, hearty sound that he now wanted to use as his ringtone.

All finished up you each said a reluctant goodbye; handshake lingering, his large, warm grip firm as his thumb rubbed gentle circles into your skin as he thanked you, promising to dedicate his win to the cute doctor who fixed him up after his near-death experience. You blush furiously at his blatant flirting, returning a playful scold as you remind him he’s your patient.

Marcus left the room smiling, a light, airy feeling beneath his feet as he made his way out.

Exiting your room at the end of your shift there is a familiar face in the waiting room. Despite seeming a little nervous, his smile was radiant as he walked towards you.

“Let me guess…sucker punched by a cardboard box,” you use humour to intercept your nerves.

“Not even close,”

“Debbie from accounts has forfeited after seeing my incredible work,”

“No…but she should! I’m actually not here as a patient, I’ve been discharged,” he let it hang in the air, giving you time to back out, you were astute, you would know why he was here.

“Is that right?” a little rueful smile graced your lips as your lashes fluttered of their own accord.

“Yeah, no patient doctor business going on here,” he could barely hear his own voice as his heartbeat thundered in his ears. Meanwhile you could hear little over the sound of your hopes chanting ‘ask me, ask me, ask me’. “So, would you like to go for a drink with me sometime? Or dinner? Or...anything really,” his eyes widened with hope, and it was incredibly disarming.

“Drink, or dinner, or…anything…sounds really good,” you beamed.

“Is now too soon?” damn those puppy dog eyes.

“I have time for a coffee,” you give in, unable to play it cool.

#marcus pike #agent marcus pike #marcus pike fanfiction #marcus pike fic #marcus pike fluff #marcus pike x f!reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal fic #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike meet cute

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keikeu · 10 months

Text

run2u :: park jongseong

12. making a move?

previous | next | masterlist

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"so you're going on a date?" jungwon asked, watching as jay put on some jewelry and chose a pair of specs. he was dressing with noel in mind, wearing clothing items and accessories he thought she would like. jay never really did this, he always dressed for himself, but he wanted to impress her.

"no and yes." he responded, leaving his room first before jungwon followed after him, continuing with his nosy questions.

"i know it sounds complicated but if it makes you feel any better, i'm also don't know if it's considered a date or not." jay shrugged before putting on his shoes and checking himself in the mirror one last time.

"okay, wish me luck!" he said, giving the rest a small smile and earning encouraging words from them.

"don't do anything stupid!" he heard heeseung say before the door shut behind him. he let out a small sigh and head to the place he was going to meet noel.

meanwhile, the girl was anxiously moving back and forth, the screen of her phone displaying all her contacts. she pressed the second one, eunji's name, and heard the phone dial for a few seconds before the girl picked up.

"i'm scared." were the first eunji heard before she could even say hello. and after asking why, noel quickly gave her an answer.

"well, jay said he wanted to talk, and nothing good usually comes out of that..." she said, biting the skin of her lips as she waited for eunji's words of advice.

"i think you're thinking too much about it. just enjoy your time without worrying too much, and don't bring anything up, wait for him to do so, okay?" noel usually went to eunji for advice, and it always worked for her, so she calmed herself down and thanked the older. after ending the call, she saw jay making his way to her.

"hey, sorry if i made you wait," he said, pulling the girl into a small hug, making her smile. maybe there really was nothing to worry about. "shall we go now?" with a small nod, the two made their way to the restaurant jay had suggested they dine.

when they arrived, jay opened the door for her and moved her seat so she could sit next to him. noel thanked him with a small smile before the two continued their conversation, mostly about schedules, friends and family, and the occasional random thoughts that would slip and start a whole new topic.

jay stood close to her, she could see his beautiful tan features, his honey-like skin, his straight nose, his pretty brown eyes, his glossy lips, his sharp jawline, and his cute birthmark. he was so beautiful, noel felt so happy looking at him, and at the same time she felt overwhelmed because of how gorgeous he was.

he was admiring noel too. her pretty sparkling eyes, her pink squishy cheeks, cute round nose, pouty lips, and the little moles on her face. she was so beautiful, jay wanted to kiss her face so bad. he couldn't do that though, at least not now, so he brushed that thought away and focused on the conversation.

time flew by fast when they were enjoying each other's presence, and they were making their way to noel's dorm after jay had insisted on walking her home. he had held her hand, after building the confidence to do so, and he thought about what he was going to say to her before they could bid their goodbyes.

"so, i was going to tell you something." he started, holding both her hands in his as they stood in front of the building noel lived. her heart was beating fast as she waited for what he was going to say.

"i like you a lot. actually, i love you." he started, giving her hands a little squeeze. noel felt herself freeze, her mind go blank and her mouth dry. her heart started beating faster, and she wasn't processing what jay had told her. sure, she had imagined him saying those words before, back at the beginning of their friendship, but it felt impossible to her for a scenario like that to ever happen, so she never thought about her answer. and now that it was happening, she was speechless.

"i know it's sudden, but i want you to know how i feel about you. i'm taking a risk, and this might affect our friendship, but i really hope it doesn't. i don't want to lose you." he said, his features were soft and delicate under the faint light of the lamppost. it all felt like a dream. jay wasn't sure if he had made the right decision. he didn't regret it, but he was starting to worry if noel was okay.

the girl swallowed before speaking, "can you give me some time to think about this, please?" her tone was unsure, it broke jay's heart. he gave her a small nod before saying goodbye.

"so, how did it go!" minjeong's voice beamed as she held a bright smile on her face while noel entered. her smile soon dropped when she saw the sad look on the younger's face.

"i... think i upset jay." was all she said before the girls rushed to her and started asking questions.

taglist :: @yenqa @piercethewon @dearflwrz @liikno @haechansbbg

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a/n :: a little angst won't hurt, right?🤭

©keikeu

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beoneofus · 11 months

Text

fem pronouns

“ he's... gorgeous. ” I breathed out, awestruck by his beauty.

“ you don't even know him. ” sandra spoke, her eyebrow quirked up in judgement.

but that... didn't stop me from staring. I've never seen blonde hair so wild and free, so pretty in a deranged state. the way his blue eyes were sparkling and had an orange glow around them under the dim lighting of the hot dog stand him and his friends stood by, ran a jolt of warmth through me. I did not know this guy, my best friend was right, but how could I rip my eyes away from someone so handsome?

I mean, the word beautiful didn't even begin to describe him. his jaw was covered with a light shadow, but even from the distance I stood away I could spot the light stubble lining his face. his cheeks were well defined, fitting his features just right — and gosh, when he smiled and laughed just now, the way they lifted and rounded at the upper apple looked so cute! so boyish, but still holding that biker beauty.

I could tell he wasn't some original guy by the clothes he wore, as well as his friends’. that still didn't flee me from thinking he was the most prettiest being on the planet though.

“ I wanna’ talk to him. ” I stated out loud, just loud enough to catch my friend’s attention over the bustling crowd of people that walked the boardwalk we stood amongst. when I looked at her, she didn't look too happy — actually had a deadpan expression across her face. though I felt a little selfish, I couldn't help it. I had to talk to this man, even if I didn't stand a chance at catching his eye like he did mine. hell, tons of girls probably draw to him, maybe even guys, but I still wanted to see... just see, if I could have a clean conversation with someone so breath-taking, up close.

so, I sent her a sheepish grin. usually I could sucker her out with my smiles because I had an innocent face, which I may or may not have taken advantage of. but! It's all out of love. sandra is like a sister to me and I'd never hurt her.

“ whatever, ” she huffed, looking away from me and blowing her tongue out. “ let's go talk to these hooligans, you nut of a girl. ” the way she spoke was rough but I sensed it being motherly, just like always. for this, I smiled widely, teeth shown, and hugged her from the side tightly.

“ thank you, thank you! ” I yelled out, only to receive a playful shove in response. after that, I was rushing in his direction like an excited kid on a sugar rush.

(a teaser... because I don't actually feel like writing an imagine for paul yet.)

#the lost boys

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goldencherriess · 2 years

Text

The one that got away || chapter four.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem! Reader

Word count: 1.9k

Summary: She's his tutor, but he also teaches her something.

Warnings: angst if you squint, I guess? Some fluff and an Arctic Monkeys reference (can you spy it?) and Eddie Munson being totally in love

Previous part || Series masterlist

Y/N took a step back and analyzed her work. The freshly painted sunflowers and daisies shone on her locker, the smell of paint raising into the air.

"That's cute."

His voice didn't startle her. It brought her warmth and comfort. Just like his usual cigarette scent, even if she wasn't one to smoke.

She smirked and without meeting his eyes she replied. "You mean it suits me, right?"

"Now who's fishing for compliments?"

Y/N chuckled, finally turning to face him. His brown eyes bore into hers, a small smile playing on his lips. "Well, hello to you too."

Eddie let out a breathy chuckle. "Hi."

For awhile, neither of them said anything, the chattering on the hallway echoing around them. "Tutoring session tonight?" voiced Y/N eventually.

Eddie nodded, crossing his arms and leaning against the locker next to him. "I'm beginning to think you're actually enjoying this."

Her chest fluttered and she almost blushed. "Ah, you just keep me entertained."

His lips curled. "Happy to do it, sweetheart. I'll pick you up after school. My place this time."

And he was winking and leaving her all flustered in the middle of the hallway with her chest full of something she couldn't name.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

"Nance, you know I love you, right?"

Usually, Nancy would reply with a "I know, I love you too" but the quivering smile on Y/N's face announced her that maybe this wasn't an actual best friends bonding moment, more of a "I need a favour" moment. She arched an eyebrow, but nodded nonetheless.

"And you love me, right?"

"Y/N, where's this coming from?" sighed Nancy.

A cringe painted Y/N's features. "I need a favour. Publish this anonymously for me. Please?" Her eyes rounded, harbouring a look of a lost puppy, as she handed the brunette a few pages of an article. "Pretty please?

Nancy read over the text, skipping parts, but stopping at others, arching an eyebrow. "Corroded Coffin is the perfect balance of a lost valentine and a new found passion, as their music transcends you into wild and undiscovered lands." she quoted. "Y/N, this is beautiful, but Corroded Coffin? Isn't that Eddie Munson's band?"

Y/N slowly nodded her head, not meeting Nancy's gaze. "It is. They're really talented, they just need a push in the right direction."

"And you want me to publish this review about them? I- how did you even listen to them? I thought you weren't a metal fan?"

"You're the journalist, you tell me." Y/N smirked.

Taken aback, Nancy's eyebrows pinched together. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing. Just do this one thing for me?"

Nancy sighed, letting a small smile take over her features. "Anything for you. But you owe me a movie marathon night! No more skipping, okay?"

Y/N grinned, hugging her tightly. "You got it."

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It was safe to say that Eddie Munson was feeling the nerves. His legs bounced up and down and he was running his hands through his curls every two minutes. He sighed and looked at his watch. Ten more minutes until the last bell rang and classes ended. He skipped the last period, but can you blame him? History was one of the most boring subjects. Good thing he wasn't failing it. Or was he?

He puffed out and looked inside his van, wiping the board and cleaning the seats as much as he could. There were a few crumbs left from the cookies he just had.

Did Y/N like cookies? He had a feeling she liked raspberries. Or any kind of fruit, for that matter. She always smelled fruity, like summer. He only wanted to take a taste out of her strawberry lace.

He turned back around and he was met with her sweet, doe eyes. They were sparkling and he had to take a step back just so he could breath. He found some courage in himself and spoke up. "Tutor girl."

Her lipgloss shone when she smiled. "Eddie."

Eddie. Not Munson. Just Eddie.

He motioned her to the van, while doing a bow. Y/N shook her head but giggled. Music to his ears.

She was wearing a green skirt that rode up her thigh when she sat down. He turned his gaze away, gulping.

Eddie felt watched when he went around the van to the driver side, a pink dusting his cheeks. He thanked the God above that it was sunny and hot today. He could blame the weather for the blushes. He got inside, the van already smelling like summer. Like raspberries. Like her.

"Music?" he asked as usually, before driving away.

"You still ask? You can put Metallica on, if you want."

"Neah, I'm feeling Iron Maiden for a change."

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Y/N had never been to the trailer park before then. It obviously stood out against the rest of Hawkins, houses on wheels scattered everywhere. But she liked it. It might not had been the most luxurious place you could live in, but it sure looked like the cosiest. And she liked cozy.

Eddie pulled in the driveway, in front of a rusty looking trailer. He was averting his gaze from her, clearing his throat. "This is, uh, my castle."

A small smile, that looked threateningly close to a smirk, curled itself on her lips. "Are you the prince?"

He almost choked on air, but played it off by chuckling. "Only if you're the princess."

"Nuh-uh, I'm a queen. See, you're wrong again."

"That's why I've got you to tutor me."

His eyes were smiling at her, soft and warm. Almost making her drown herself in them. She smiled and got out of the van, feeling giddy. Her red Converse scrapped the dirty road, leading her to his front door. Eddie ran up to her and opened the door, gesturing her inside. "Sorry for the, uh, mess."

"It's quite alright." she answered. Because it really was. Besides some chips bags, beer bottles and aimlessly thrown t-shirts, the whole place was clean. A smell of cigarettes lingered everywhere. Cigarettes and musk. That was definitely Eddie. "I like it" she concluded after doing a 360 degrees look around. "The mugs are really interesting" she added, smirking.

"Ah, those are my uncle's. I just have one mug. If I still have it."

"He sounds very sweet."

"He is." nodded Eddie.

"Just like his nephew?"

Eddie was sure he was blushing red. His whole face burnt and his chest contracted. He wanted to reply something charming, something that'll sweep her off of her feet, just like she did him. "Probably less annoying." he replied instead, going for the safest option. He was no charmer.

She simply smiled, following him to his bedroom.

If Y/N were to describe Eddie's room into one word, she would say that it was electric. Despite the crowdedness of it (way too many posters and records laying around), she found herself admiring the little details of it. The way his bed was mostly undone, but still looked inviting, the two books found in three different copies, an ashtray and the most eye catching thing of it all: an electric guitar. One she recognised instantly. "Oh, you played this one in that concert!"

Eddie's eyebrows hid under his bangs. "You still remember that?"

"I do. It was fun." she admitted, starry eyed. Her mind drifted off to the article she wrote. It was about to be published, the newspaper coming out in a few days and she wondered what would Eddie think of it.

He cleared his throat. "Want to try it out?"

Y/N met his gaze bewildered. "What?"

"The guitar. Want to try playing it?"

"Oh. I'd rather not. Me and music, we don't really get along. One's too daft to even sing, the other's too talented." She smiled sheepishly.

Eddie took a step closer to her. "I'd help you out."

She shook her head. "No, no, it's fine-"

But he was already taking the guitar off of the mirror and touching her hand, his skin alighting hers on fire. "C'mon, sit down."

His bed whined, just like hers did, the mattress almost swallowing her whole. His arm hugged her, bringing her closer as he handed her the guitar. "So, we'll start easy. Just some tunes."

"I thought I was the tutor."

"We learn from each other." And he was gently gliding her hand across the chords, pinching them slightly. A few notes encircled them in a gentle tune. "Lovely." stated Eddie in a soft voice.

Then her hand slipped and a sharp sound broke the serenity. "Sorry." she cringed. Eddie let out a small laugh. "It's fine. We're still learning."

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Some record was playing in the corner of the room and Eddie was watching her pack up her things. Her skirt was flying around as she picked up her discarded Converse and books. "The final exam's in a month." she finally said.

Eddie didn't say anything, his gaze moving to his old carpet.

"I think you've been doing great." Y/N added, watching him carefully.

His face broke into a smile, lifting his eyes. "You really think so?"

She nodded her head. "Yeah, you're a fast learner. Can't understand why you haven't done it sooner. Studying, I mean."

"I just needed the right teacher." he winked. And to Eddie's disappointment, she rolled her eyes. "You don't need anyone to do anything. You're very much capable to do it by yourself. You're clever enough to do it. So, why didn't you?"

Eddie fell silent. Why didn't he do it? He couldn't say he didn't try. Because he did, this was his third attempt. Maybe it was because he wasn't ready to let go of Gareth and Jeff and Hellfire Club. Maybe, he wasn't ready to actually move on and become an adult. He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "I don't know."

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The ride to her home was quiet. There wasn't any music on, just the hum of the van and some far away crickets songs. Y/N was watching the stars through the window, hyperaware of the fleeting gazes Eddie was throwing at her very five minutes. "Do you believe we get reborn as stars in our next lives?" she asked, just so she could cut some of the tension.

Eddie briefly looked at her. "What?"

"The stars. Do you think they were someone before they were just some dust and light?"

This was the first time Eddie was being asked something of this heaviness and depth, the question pondering between them. Not even mrs. O'Donnell asked him these type of questions in English class. He was usually ignored or overly picked. No in-between. "Science wouldn't agree, would it?" he answered.

"Well, I'm no scientist. I'm just a writer." she replied, finally looking at him. The moon was caressing his cheeks in a silver glow. Stardust.

"And what do you believe as a writer?" Eddie replied, meeting her gaze for a moment.

"I think some stars get reborn on Earth too." she smiled softly.

"Like Ozzy Osbourne and Stevie Nicks?"

"Yeah, like them..." she replied evenly.

The van was slowly approaching her driveway, the red door being illuminated by some harsh light. "Thank you for the ride." said Y/N.

"Yeah, of course. Can't let you to roam around Hawkins at night. Who knows what could happen?"

"Who would be tutoring you then, right?" she laughed, a twinkle in her eye.

He laughed quietly, the air between crackling with something he couldn't figure out. His arm rested on the console between them. He shouldn't be doing it, but his fingers slowly inched toward hers, resting on them lazily. Her eyes travelled between them, at their laced fingers, his cold rings touching her skin in smooth kisses. She lifted her head and she was met with the most warm and softest gaze. He was just drinking her in, eyes sparkling and never wavering from hers. She swallowed thickly. "Goodnight, Eddie."

"G'night."

And then she was leaving, disappearing through the front, red door.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

A/N: well, this was interesting! I wanted them to bond over something more meaningful and deeper, hence the last two conversations they had. Please, let me know what you thought of it, any kind of feedback is highly appreciated :)

And if you'd like to be added to my main tag list or the series tag list, just send me an ask or comment under this chapter xx

Main tag list: @bohemianrhapsody86

Series tag list: @gnnnne @black-kitten-imagines @sarcasm-is-my-form-of-attack @m-rae23 @i-will-duckyou-up @navs-bhat

#eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things x reader #stranger things x fem!reader #stranger things #laura writes #masterlist #my writing

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silver-weasel · 3 years

Text

Diving (Deku x Reader)

Pairing : Deku x fem!reader (aged-up characters)

Rating : E, 18+

Tags : smut • fem!reader (she/her) • best friends to lovers / childhood friends to lovers • quirkless AU • p*rn with feelings (like. a lot of them) • public sex (more or less) • switching • hair pulling? • pining • Deku being flustered and an absolute angel what’s new • Reader being a teasing brat • It’s all soft and fluffy, I’m as vanilla as you can get 🤷‍♀️ • Happy birthday to the bestest boyyy I love him so much it hurts

Word count : 10 600 (Holy sh—)

A/N : Thank you @hoe-doroki my beloved and savior for beta-ing <3

Written for @rat-zuki’s collab in honor of our favorite birthday boy, The Deku Agenda Escapes no One. Thank you so much for letting me join! (go check out the other amazing writers and artists!)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

The ground grinds repeatedly under your hiking shoes, some pebbles being kicked forward on your way. You’re way too deep in the forest to hear any cars passing by and during the two hours you’ve been here you haven’t run into anyone. The place seems empty, the only souls breathing the forest’s thick air being you, Izuku and the birds chirping all around you.

The afternoon is coming to an end, the sun sinking down on its way to hide behind the mountains. The remains of its soft light are filtering through the dense leaves all around and above you. You’re surrounded by green, lush and immeasurable greenery, every plant merging into another.

You’ve left the marked paths, now wandering deep in the richest, boundless part of a forest you both know like the back of your hand after roaming it all over innumerable times. All over, except for this part, in which you’re setting foot for the first time today. Your many previous hiking sessions were shortened by your questionable sense of organization, always arriving too late to explore further into the unknown.

Leaves brush against your knees with every single step you take as you follow Izuku on his heels. He’s moving at a steady pace, his hands holding tight the straps of his yellow backpack that he’s had for as long as you can remember. He’s always so organized, has everything you two could eventually need and generally never do. Two huge flasks of water, an entire meal he calls ‘little snacks’, with sandwiches, fruits, protein bars, even hard-boiled eggs. A first-aid kit with disinfectant, bandages, scissors and painkillers. Hell, you’re even wondering if he has any pads for you in there, in case of an unexpected period. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

You giggle lightly when you see him stumble for the sixth time since you got here; he can’t seem to keep his curious eyes from drifting up and around, looking in every direction, probably retaining every detail and logging it in some impressive mental database of his. And he’s commenting on every little thing he sees too; he makes you notice things you never would have if it weren’t for his candid interest in everything.

“Oh! Look at that bird!” he exclaims, pointing at a branch over your heads. “Do you see it, right there, with the red mark!”

You turn your gaze to where he’s pointing and see a little bird, very cute, but so tiny you’re wondering how one could spot it without specifically looking for it. That’s probably what you like most about Izuku: his attention to detail. That’s the thing—nothing is too small for him, everything is worthy of interest. His eyes always light up with such curiosity, this child-like wonder and it was always one of your favorite things to witness growing up.

When he came over to your house at age six, he was always running around with some bug on his forearm, calling your name, yelling, “Look at this!”

Most of the time, it was a snail or a ladybug, and that always managed to catch your interest. Sometimes, it was a spider or a beetle, and he had you screaming in horror more than once, running to your mother’s legs with weeping eyes. Those times, he always watched you go with wide, sad eyes and a wobbly lip, because, “I would never hurt her, Mom! I swear I didn’t want to scare her!”

“Oh, yeah, I see it! It’s so cute!”

And it is cute, the way his huge green eyes go even rounder in amazement. You treasure these hikes for providing occasions to witness this. But as much as you wish this moment could last forever, the sun is beginning to set, you probably shouldn’t go deeper in the forest at sundown.

“We should probably head back to the car, Izuku. It’s gonna be dark soon.”

“Come on, it’s still so light—there’s no rush!” His lips crook a bit into an impish smile. “Scared that a bear is coming to get you?”

“There aren’t any bears here—we’ve been coming for five years.”

“Because if it’s the bears you’re afraid of,” he begins, ignoring you on purpose, “you know I’ll protect you, right?” he says, sticking out his chest like he’s some superhero.

“Against a bear? Right.”

“You’re underestimating me? That’s just mean.”

You chuckle at his antics, shooting him a look of yours that says, ‘Come on, please?’.

His eyes soften a bit, but he’s used to that look; it’s been years since it worked on him as well as you’d like it to.

“We can just keep going this way, then we’ll make a loop and head back to the car directly! It’ll be even shorter this way.”

“Alright, let’s do that,” you agree, and the smile it elicits from him makes something tingle deep in your stomach.

You move forward again, sinking deeper within the forest. It’s becoming harder and harder to walk, brambly branches and huge leaves blocking your way more and more with every step.

You’re a bit ahead of him when you catch sight of a sparkle behind the bushes. Just a glimpse of light, but you’re positive you saw it. Is there water here? You never really looked at a map of the place before—you just always went wherever you felt like and used the same tracks on the way back. You hurry up a bit, curious eyes fixed on that glimmer of light.

Soon enough the dense greenery comes to an end, and you’re finally out of the bushes, finding your way into a little clearing. You’re standing, speechless, in front of a pond: it’s about forty feet wide, catching the last rays of sunshine in a dazzling reflection. The water is surrounded by gigantic trees big enough to be home to an entire niche of biodiversity, and a half-sandy, half-stony shore with reeds rising from the water on both sides.

It’s all calm and quiet and massive trees, branches pouring, cascading above still water. The air feels cool, filled with a pure smell of dew and spring even though it’s the end of a hot day of July.

Izuku is close behind you and lets out a very cute, “Whoa,” ditching his backpack on the ground next to you in the middle of the cove. The both of you just stand there for a moment in complete silence, aside from the birds chirping. Izuku breaks it first:

“How come we’ve never seen this before? This place is amazing.” He sounds distant as he speaks, soaking up his surroundings like he always does.

“I guess you never know everything about anything,” you say mindlessly, without detaching your gaze of the wonderful view ahead.

He’s standing close to you, very close. You’re only noticing now that you’re coming down from the high of your discovery. Your arms are brushing, you can feel his body heat from how close you two are. It wouldn’t be the first time; you’re no stranger to being physically close to Izuku. You’ve been playing together since you were able to put one foot in front of the other. And you wish you could say it feels any different right now, but that would be a lie. Being close to him always felt the same. Always felt like the only easy thing in your life. The only constant.

Yet it’s not enough. No matter how close, it’s never enough, it never was. You hate yourself for feeling that way; you’ve never been the greedy, unsatisfied type. You have everything with Izuku. Well, almost everything.

But right now this place—this very quiet, beautiful place with no one in sight is doing things to your fertile imagination. Despite the sun just beginning to set, the summer air still remains thick with heat. You find yourself staring in the abyss of that water, admiring the masterpiece of a reflection on the surface, a painting of leaves and clouds and blue sky. It calls you, sings an irresistible song of fresh water on sweaty skin and strong, freckled arms wrapped around you.

You don’t know if the slight, insignificant detail that you would have to undress in order to dive into that water—since you didn’t bring a swimsuit—is a better reason to do it or to refrain from doing so.

You’ve lost count of how many moments you’ve shared with him just like this one. So many chances for you to take. You never have.

Back to the original issue: can you see yourself walk out of that clearing the way you always do? Can you see yourself going home, adding this missed chance to your growing collection of lost memories, of hands within your reach that you chose not to take?

The answer pops in your mind, crystal clear for the first time since you met him.

You drop your bag on the ground, turning to Izuku with a delighted expression stretching your features. The look on your face reminds him of one he’d seen on you as a kid, bouncing on the balls of your feet in front of the ice cream truck. At this moment he just knows you’ve got some stupid shenanigan in mind, like you always do. Once again, he isn’t wrong.

“Wanna take a dip?” You’re squinting at him from his side, a mischievous smile lighting up your face.

“I-I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” he stutters.

It’s been a long time since he last stuttered in front of you. He got rid of it years ago, but it still resurfaces sometimes in front of intimidating strangers or in a socially uncomfortable situation. Never in front of you, though.

“Me neither,” you answer plainly with that same impish smile, and his eyes go round at your implications.

“Wait, you can’t be—Oh my God—”

His heart does a great flip in his chest when he catches you taking the hem of your shirt up over your head. In less than five seconds, you’ve got him scorching hot, feverish and suddenly he can’t tell right from left.

His reflex is to bury his face in his hands. He respects you too much to take a peek, but you’re making things very difficult for him. He can hear you move towards the water, can hear the thump of your forgotten shoes hitting the ground one after the other, can hear the soft pad of your naked feet on the rocks.

“For the love of God, please, put it back on…”

“What? Look at this view, it would be a shame not to make the most of it!”

He’s not looking at the view right now, he can’t let himself. He knows very well he won’t be able to focus on the trees when you’re standing pretty much naked—although he’s not sure to what extent—in front of him. You could be entirely naked right now and he wouldn’t be able to tell, his burning face still hidden in his shaking hands. His voice comes out muffled when he stammers, “I-It’s starting to get late, we really should get back to the car…”

“What, you’re scared of the bears?”

He can’t see you, but he knows you’re sporting that smug grin of yours, the one he first saw when you showed him your impressive collection of Pokémon cards on your preschool’s playground. You’ll have to take a lingering silence for an answer.

“Izuku, come on. I don’t bite.”

He’s not entirely sure the sight of you won’t gnaw him to the bone, won’t melt his entire body down and leave him a hot mess. He won’t be a man anymore, just a walking flame fueled by the heavenly sight of you. No, he can’t let himself fall into that. Obviously you don’t know what you’re doing to him.

Nevertheless, you’re probably the most stubborn person he knows. And he’s friends with Katsuki Bakugou, for God’s sake. He won’t be able to get out of this as easily as he wants, especially as he hears the delicate noise of water splitting at your feet as you enter the little pond.

He slowly moves his hands off of his face. You must have your back turned to him, so maybe he can drift his eyes off somewhere—

You are in front of him, thigh deep in the water now. In nothing but your panties. Your white, flower-patterned lace panties that are doing a very bad job at covering your backside. He lets out a long, pained whine, standing in the middle of the little shore with his arms dangling down his sides, not sure what to do with them.

“Why didn’t you at least keep your bra on?” His voice comes out way more wobbly than he intended to.

You turn a little so you can look at him, and it takes every little bit of strength he’s got left to look you in the eye. But as you’re turning around, the smooth curve of your breast starts showing, and God, is that your nipple?

He wants a giant hole to swallow him right now. He wants some forest creature to come for him right this instant, anything to keep him away from you, keep him from doing things he might regret. To punish him for having such thoughts about you, because you trust him, you’re so oblivious, so innocent, and he’s so weak against this inner monster that’s eating him away.

With a little frown, you deliver the answer like it’s self-evident as you kneel into the water, the surface just above your chest:

“I didn’t want it to get wet.”

“But you’re okay with your panties getting wet?”

The realization of what he just said is slow but surely comes. And when it does, he wishes even harder to get erased from the surface of this planet he’s already lucky enough to share with you. There is a long silence, and all he can hear for a few seconds are the birds chirping and the violent pounding of his heart against his ribcage, straining to get out.

You turn back around to look at him, dumbstruck.

“I’m more than okay with that—”

“Please forget I just said that,” he cuts you off. He’s not sure he can bear to hear more of this.

“I’m never forgetting you said that. It’s pure gold,” you scoff.

He can only answer with a drawn-out whine. He doesn’t have any choice in this, does he?

When you dive in the water, he takes both his shaking hands to the hem of his shirt and starts undressing.

What the fuck am I doing?

The water is so pure you can see underwater as clear as day: the few rocks at the bottom, the little silvery fish all around you, and the last rays of sunlight permeating through the calm surface above your head. The water feels a bit cold on your naked skin since the sunlight and summer heat must only hit the clearing at certain hours of the day. Still, the cold water isn’t enough to clear your foggy mind.

What was I thinking?

You’ve always been a bashful person, why is it changing all of a sudden? Maybe it’s the devastating effect Izuku has on you.

You try to calm down a bit, taking a deep breath. So, you’re pretty much naked in front of him. Well, it definitely wouldn’t be the first time, and it (probably) won’t be the last. Now you just have to go through with your stupid idea. It’s no big deal, it’s only Izuku. Only Izuku.

Only Izuku.

Fuck.

You finally surface, not only because you can’t hide underwater forever, but also because, surprisingly, you’re not a fish, you have to actually breathe.

You push your dripping hair to the back of your head, still careful to keep your breasts under the water. Izuku’s already in to his hips when you turn around to look at him, your vision still blurry from the water trickling all over your face. He’s merciless, standing like that, only the elastic of his boxers peeking out of the water. You’re a bit surprised by the plain, black color. You were expecting something along the lines of blue, yellow and red. Izuku is full of surprises.

But nevermind the color of his underwear—what you find just above is mesmerizing. Your indiscreet, incorrigible gaze can’t help following the thin trail of hair tracing up to his navel, then the stunning lines of his abs, partly hidden behind his freckled forearms shyly crossed over them. The freckles spread up his powerful arms, gently sunkissed, scattering all over his broad shoulders.

Is he actually hiding, though? Doesn’t he know he looks like he was carved by the gods themselves?

“Have you done this before?”

The sound of his voice startles you a bit. Ah, right. You were shamelessly staring. It takes you a couple of seconds to force your distracted mind back into focus. “Done what?”

“Skinny dipping?”

“No, it’s my first time. It looks like it’s yours too.” His big, bright eyes drift around like they don’t know where to look. It’s really cute.

“It is,” he admits, now kneeling into the water as well. “I would’ve thought you were used to this.” You arch a single eyebrow in an amused frown.

“What, do I look like I have a professional degree in skinny dipping?”

“No, it’s just…You look confident, it just seemed like it.”

Confident? You’re nowhere near confident—you’re terrified. You try to keep your cool, but it’s probably the first time you’re putting on an act in front of Izuku.

“Well, you’re not so bad at it yourself.” You don’t miss the little blush coating his cheeks at that. “Also, I’m not exactly naked.”

“You’re not exactly dressed either, that’s a...v-very small piece of clothing.” He’s blushing a bit harder, looking away.

“Oh, seems like you paid some attention to my piece of clothing then, good to know.”

Now he’s quite simply scarlet. A very cute, very hot, freckled tomato. He’s so easily flustered, it only makes you want to tease him some more.

“Were your legendary All Might boxers in the dirty hamper? That’s a shame. I’m a bit disappointed,” you say in a mockingly innocent voice.

He doesn’t retort, simply stands there on his knees, shooting you an unreadable look and a little pout. After a few seconds, you open your mouth to continue, only to be startled by a strong splash hitting you in the face.

When you snap out of your shock, hair and face dripping all over your shoulders, you look up at him with what must be the scariest look of betrayal. Or the most ridiculous, apparently, since he starts laughing, louder and louder, and can’t seem to stop.

“Oh, you’re pretty pleased with yourself right now, aren’t you?” You can’t help but chuckle while talking, his laugh is so contagious.

“I am, yeah!” he manages to articulate, only starting to calm down.

As the calm of the forest returns, you watch his eyes go back to their usual round shape bit by bit, his face relaxing again. His smile causes butterflies to fly up and around in a whirlwind deep into your belly. You chuckle a bit at the feeling, almost embarrassed by how he’s making you feel like you’re in some dumb, cliche rom-com movie. On the outside, you must look a bit like a maniac, but he’s a nice guy, so he simply asks, “What is it?”

And before you can overthink yourself out of it, you’re hurling yourself at him. He barely has the chance to stutter a weak, “Wait!” before you’re putting all your weight on him, sinking his head deep in the water. Izuku may well be a nice guy, but you know he isn’t going to let you get away with this, so you’re not surprised when you’re dragged underwater by your legs. He lets go immediately, a bit abruptly, even, like it burnt his hands to touch you.

You both emerge from the water soon, and it takes you a second to get rid of the water blurring your vision, but then it hits you. How tantalizingly close you are to each other now, your bodies an inch away from touching. You’re both on your knees, enveloped in the coolness of crystal clear water and the reflections of the canopy of leaves above your heads. A spark of electricity makes you freeze on the spot; you’re so close to him your breasts slightly brush against his chest.

After a little eternity, you find the courage to look up at his face. He looks mindblowing, really. Despite the two decades you spent together, you’re not sure you’ve ever seen the pure, astonishing details of his freckles from this close. You would remember it, you definitely would. It’s a spectacular view, one of those visual memories that comes back to hit you in flashes. His nose and cheekbones are covered in them, drawing a mesmerizing pattern, more complex than the Milky Way itself. They’re an uncrackable equation, like a weird quirk of nature that you’ll never understand but don’t question anyway. They spread a little more scattered, but still very present, up to his forehead and down to his delicate jaw.

And his eyes—you could just drown in them. There’s this bright, blinding light there that feels like laying in the grass and looking up at the sunlight coating the leaves of this tree, the one you grew up near and always played under.

You swear you didn’t move, neither did he, and still you manage to get even closer to him. Now it’s you against the inexorable attraction that pulls you towards him like a fierce magnet. And it’s a losing battle, you think, as you’re both entering each other’s personal space like you share just one.

There’s nothing friendly about the way he can’t look you in the eye, seemingly too obsessed with your lips. You drop your gaze to his and find them calling for you. It’s been so long, now the thought of kissing Izuku seems unfamiliar despite being ever-present in your imagination for so many years. Like repeating a word so much it ends up becoming a series of meaningless sounds to your confused mind.

He’s the one who finally closes the distance, his lips landing on yours so softly you can barely feel them. He doesn’t move, simply content with the contact. You’re both eight years old again for a minute. The kiss feels like the little peck a kid would finally give to his crush in the middle of their school’s playground before running away to his friends.

Time seems to stop for God knows how long, and after what feels like no time and forever all at once, his lips move hesitantly against yours, bringing you back to reality. Right then, it all crashes on you like a tremendous wave. The distant echo of your mothers’ voices from the kitchen and the stupid cartoons they made you watch so they could talk for ten more minutes. The games alone together because no one wanted to play with you two weirdos. The piggyback rides, the dumb jokes, the video games (you always won). The neverending texting sessions at night because one of you couldn’t sleep. The fights that never lasted long enough to see the next sunrise because you both are way too weak for each other. All those stupid places that wouldn’t have looked half as breathtaking if it weren’t for him.

His lips are soft but roughly bitten. Hot and wet from the water and maybe from something else. He doesn’t taste like anything other than home, and that’s more than enough for you. His hands went up to cup your face at some point, but you’re too drowned in all the feelings coming up to the surface to pay attention to anything other than his soft mouth pressing on yours, more and more, opening up—

And it’s already over. You only notice that you’ve closed your eyes when you open them again when you don’t feel anything against your mouth other than the summer air. When your mind manages to regain any sense of function, the blurry focus of your gaze settles on his eyes. Wide open. Pupils eating up the dazzling viridian that puts the forest to shame. And a terrified expression in them.

He’s looking at you like he hurt you. His lips should still be on yours, kissing and sucking, not frozen like they are right now, obviously trying to express something painful as a few weak sounds pass their barrier before he finally manages to speak:

“Oh—Oh my God, I-I’m s—”

You don’t let him finish his stupid sentence. You don’t think twice before you take his face in your hands and lean in to kiss him again, with shameless intent this time. No more pretending—you’ve been waiting long enough for this and apparently, so has he.

It’s nothing gentle this time when your mouths crash against each other, teeth clashing and lips bruising under the weight of twenty years. You hold to his face like a lifeline, fingers sinking just a bit into his cheekbones, the tip of your nails getting caught in the knots of his dripping hair just above his ears. It’s messy, your noses rubbing before he angles his face better. One of his hands loops around your waist in a tight grip, forcing your chest to crush against his, the other burying in your hair at the base of your skull.

The feeling is electrifying, indescribable. It’s nothing like the pale, miserable depiction of your imagination. It’s discovering life in color when all you’ve always known was black and white.

The water is cool, but his body scorches against yours, burns your skin in the most exquisite way. The kiss is desperate on both parts, but neither of you is confident. His lips suck on yours with tentative motions, and you respond in kind the best you can. They are hungry, starving for flesh but don’t know how to hunt.

Your hands are gripping more and more of his hair, pulling harder, sending waves of heat all the way down his groin, and he’s not sure he can hide the bulge growing there for much longer.

He has to be sure, he has to be absolutely certain you want this as much as he does, because once he starts, he may not be able to stop. But you feel so good, all pressed against him. Your skin feels so soft under his hand at the small of your back he has to dig his nails in the skin of your waist so he doesn’t cross a line. But the curve just above your ass is begging for him to grip at the tender flesh and squeeze, fill his hands with it. He’s been dreaming about this for so long.

No, he can’t just hurl himself at you like a hunting wolf the first chance he gets—what kind of friend does that?

It takes him every bit of focus he has left to break the kiss, to part away from you. You have to discuss this, he can’t just throw away twenty years of friendship! Now you’re looking up at him with puppy eyes saying, ‘Why won’t you play with me?’ He breathes out a shaky sigh, and begins:

“Um, look. Believe me when I say I’ve wanted this for a very, very long time, and I love you so, so much. As a friend, I mean.” He sees you frown at this, catches a glint of something he doesn’t like in your eyes, then panics. “No, no, no, I mean, a-as a friend, but also more than that, o-obviously. But I don’t know what you want, you might be...d-disappointed, or...um—” His face starts heating up like it hasn’t in ages. He takes another breath, tries to clear up the muddled mess happening in his head. “Look, I just want the best for you, but you look...good, very good, and you’re making things very difficult for me, doing...this—”

“Izuku.” The deafening hubbub filling his mind falls suddenly silent, your voice a comforting, steady rock for him to cling to when his mind is storming out of control.

“Yeah?”

You get even closer to him, since he gradually set some distance while mumbling his anxious thoughts out again. You cup his face in your hands, a gentle, featherlight touch, and look up at him with determination in your eyes. You pull his head down a bit to settle on yours, your foreheads and noses connected, never breaking eye contact. Your lips graze over his, both your breaths mixing there, your voice a quiet whisper as you speak again. “Do you want me?”

Out of the jittery mess of his mind, the answer comes out like evidence, plain and simple: “Yes.”

“Then shut up and kiss me.”

You take action immediately, kissing him once again and this time he doesn’t hesitate to put his—still rather shaky—hands on you. The feeling of you is addicting, pushing his insecurities further in the back of his mind. He starts at your waist, running his thumbs there, feeling the goosebumps rising on your skin. They wander up your spine, counting every single bump of your bones, all the way to your nape. Then dragging them back down to settle on your hips, his fingers digging in the soft flesh. The little sigh you breathe on his lips causes an impressive amount of blood to run straight to his dick.

Your mouth is distracting, dizzying, sucking on his bottom lip, nipping playfully. His tongue slides over your lips, then against your own when you open up immediately for him. You’re pressing against him even more, your breasts rubbing against his naked chest and he swears you’re going to be the death of him. You’re hanging from his shoulders by now, your arms circling his neck, still gripping a handful of green hair, pulling. You have to stop doing this—he might cum right away. He doesn’t say it aloud, only lets a moan escape him into your mouth.

He wanted this, wanted this for so long, and now that it’s real, it’s beyond everything he could have imagined. The heat of your skin, the weight on his shoulders as you cling to him, your breath in his mouth, your little sighs.

He’s only now noticing that his hands have gone to reach their destination with a mind of their own. They’re on your ass underwater, feeling the white, wet lace, the sole cloth on your entire body—that thing is just there to tempt him. He’s unsure if you like what he’s doing until you release a whimper, louder this time, enough to send a vibration against his mouth (and straight to his cock at the same time).

Suddenly, he wants to taste a lot more of you. You’re all open up to him for the first time—he has to. He trails a series of open-mouthed kisses from the corner of your mouth to your jaw, savoring every little sigh escaping your lips, then to your neck, dragging his tongue up the column of your throat.

The water is fresh all over you, and he doesn’t miss the shivers running up and down your skin at the contact of the twilight breeze. He needs to warm you up, needs to make you feel good, needs everything to be perfect for you. With his hands still on your ass, he trails lower down to your collarbone, allowing some occasional nips on the way that have you shaking. He freezes, looking up at you from there.

“Is this okay?”

The answer comes out breathy, a little desperate: “Yes, yes, please!” It sends a wave of heat all over him, the way you like what he’s doing to you, the way he’s making you feel good.

He’s not experienced or anything, only had a few hookups a couple of times, so he’s not very confident in his capacities, aside from running his hands all over you because that’s how his instincts are manifesting. You know him better than anyone—of course you would know how lost he could be in this kind of situation. But he also knows you’re not much more experienced than him, and that thought is comforting.

He’s experienced in one thing, though. He feels like the worst, filthiest person on the planet for this, but it’s astonishing the number of times he jerked off to the thought of what’s happening right now. How many times did he fuck his hand in the shower thinking about the water trickling down your skin, about licking it off your breasts all the way up to your neck.

So he does what he’s been dying to do for years. your breasts are just above the surface, so he sits on his heels and licks down your chest. When his tongue finally reaches your nipple, giving it a tentative lick, you let out a gasp, encouraging him to get bolder. And he does, closing his mouth on it like it’s the sweetest lollipop; it’s all cold and hard and raised from the water, but it warms up really quickly against the furnace of his mouth. His right hand leaves your ass to cup the neglected other, running his thumb against the bud, squeezing the flesh. That’s when you reach out to bury a hand in his hair, and pull again. God, you can pull on his hair all day and night like this; he’ll never get enough.

His left hand, still on your ass, rises up to the small of your back, feeling you arching more and more, pushing against his mouth. A harder nip has you gasping and he lets his hands run all over you, wandering without direction. It’s messy and urgent; he can’t help it—you feel so good, so soft under his hands. He’s like a kid getting to open his Christmas gifts in the morning after an endless, sleepless night waiting for Santa.

You trail your hand down his chest and his abdomen, a gentle reminder that the power he holds right now could slip through his fingers any moment. He’s willing to give it to you, especially since he doesn’t really know what to do next.

Like you just read his mind, you take his hands in yours, stopping their chaotic race. He’s feeling himself flush a bit—was he going too fast for you? Did he scare you? Or did he just let himself become overwhelmed by his feelings and it didn’t feel good for you? His eyes are looking down directly at your naked chest, he realizes he never took a proper look at them, too busy throwing himself to taste them. They look just as good as they taste, as beautiful as the rest of you.

Tentatively, he raises his eyes to find your reassuring gaze and fond smile. You lead his hands down slowly, setting them on your hips, over the criminal lace fabric preserving your modesty. Your foreheads connect again, but you never break eye contact. Lacing your fingers together, you guide his thumbs into the elastic on both sides, and now that he gets what you’re trying to do, his mind just stops.

Your voice is barely a whisper, a mesmerizing caress on his lips when you speak again. “I think I’ve waited long enough, Zuku.”

Your tone is fond, but you sound so desperate, it’s unbearably cute. His mind fogs up, the smoke of your words filling his skull and he wants to drive you as mad as you drive him. Sure, you’ve waited a lot, but so has he. He isn’t going to rush this, not if he has any say in it.

He slides your panties down your thighs underwater inch by inch. It’s even too slow for him; right now he just wants to rip the stupid piece of lace off of you and fuck you and him both stupid in the water, hard and fast. But even more than that, he wants to take his time with you, wants to take you apart piece by piece. And the testy whine it elicits from you makes it all so worth it.

You shift a bit so he can take your underwear completely off and, in a second, it lays abandoned on the sandy ground of the shore. Just knowing you’re now completely naked in front of him, it sends boiling desire flowing through every single vein in his body. He can’t see that part of you yet, the water darkening along with the sky clouding his view beneath the surface, but nightfall can’t do anything about Izuku’s wild imagination. He’s dizzy, feeling himself slowly falling into a half-conscious daze, but you anchor him right where you are, bringing him back to the reality of your arms hooked around his neck.

He rests his hands on your hips, dragging his fingertips down the soft flesh of them. The idea of touching you down there is making his head spin, he can’t wait any longer.

“Can I—”

“Yes, I want your fingers inside me,” you say before driving your lips back against his.

Without further ado, one of them goes straight to your core, making you jump a bit, breaking the kiss just for a second. He runs his index between your folds, feeling hot slick already coming out of you despite the fresh water around. His touch is light, slow, hesitant as it glides up and down, testing the waters. He’s getting a bit further, putting a bit more pressure with every stroke and earning a few pleased sighs from your heavenly mouth.

He expected a sudden reaction as soon as he found your clit, but that doesn’t mean he was prepared for the drawn-out moan coming out of your gorgeous lips, wet from his mouth and from your dip earlier. He wants to hear that again, every day for the rest of his life. He drags his thumb over it, again and again, slow at first, but then quicker and quicker, and your voice grows louder with every speed-up of his finger.

Your hands go frantic over him, running up his chest and down his abs in repeated motions that feel a lot like it’s lust driving your limbs much more than your mind. You stopped kissing him at some point, your mouth too busy expressing every ounce of pleasure you felt to focus on such basic motions. Your face is buried in his neck, your hot breath crushing against his skin.

He presses his index inside, but he’s so focused on what he’s doing, trying not to hurt you, that he doesn’t notice the shift of your own hand leaning down until he feels it cupping the painful bulge in his boxers. His eyes go wide with a gasp, and when he looks at you, you already have a playful, but intense, gaze piercing right through him.

“Did you think I was gonna let you play all on your own, Zuku?” Your fingers graze over the soaked fabric, down his entire length and to his balls, throwing gasoline on the fire that’s been consuming him for ages. “Don’t be selfish,” you whisper directly in his ear as your hands slip his underwear down his thighs.

As soon as the piece of cloth gets to join your forgotten panties on the shore, you wrap your pretty hand around him. And when you start stroking, his eyes roll so hard he swears he can see the inside of his skull. It feels better than he ever could have imagined; it’s blistering, astonishing. The only idea his brain can manage to work out right now is that he wants you to feel just as good.

He only notices now that his fingers stopped moving, and they go right back to a steady pace, but it’s a matter of seconds before he drives another finger into you. Soon, you’re both fucking the life out of each other with your hands. You’re sucking and nipping at his ear, and every single moan he draws out of you ends up turning against him, breaking into the defenses he built year after year by your side. He’s simply fucking into your hand now. He can’t help it, you feel so good. He doesn’t even want to think about what it’s going to feel like to fuck into your tight little cunt, he might cum hard just from the thought of it.

The spongy spot he finds inside you feels like he just struck gold. It’s glorious, the sounds you make right now, higher, louder. You’re tightening around his fingers, but it’s okay—you can crush them for all he cares. He wants you to moan higher for him, wants you to keep riding his fingers like your life depends on it.

“Izuku, ah—I’m close, I’m so close, please…”

“I got you, baby. I got you, shit—”

He quickens the pace again, feels like his fingers are gonna fall off his hand the moment he gets them out of you, but fuck, what his princess wants, his princess is gonna get. Your orgasms shatter the both of you to pieces, and in the bliss of his high, he can hear some birds flying away, scared by the harmonious, but probably very loud, song of your combined moans.

While his cum strikes out by ropes into the water, his clouded mind can only think about one thing.

He needs more of you.

You can barely stand on your knees, worn out from cumming the hardest you have in your entire life. You actually have to lean on Izuku so you don’t fall into the water head first like some boneless ragdoll. You just let your forehead rest on his shoulder and count the freckles there, splattered in a fascinating work of abstraction.

But apparently, he has other plans. You’re swiftly lifted up and out of the water, huge scarred hands firmly holding the back of your thighs that immediately come to circle his waist.

“Oh, nice. I don’t mind getting carried around like a baby. Where are we going?”

“Not far,” he says with a little grin, walking out of the water. “Do you think you’ll be able to walk?” His voice holds a sarcastic tone, one you’re not used to hearing out of Izuku’s angel mouth.

“I think I can manage, yeah.”

He drops you to stand on your legs, and immediately goes for his backpack. The sun has just set, its last rays of light filling the pink sky over your heads. You can still easily make out everything around you, and Izuku’s body is no exception.

You’re watching him with a raised eyebrow, letting your shameless gaze follow every curve you couldn’t see underwater. The day he started exercising in high school was the day you knew it was over for you. It was the day you couldn’t deny what you felt anymore, you couldn’t deny your best friend was everything you needed, and everything you wished for. The physical factor was only a—very pleasant— addition to the list of things that made you fall hard for Izuku Midoriya.

Your eyes linger over his impressive figure, staring at the dimples at the small of his back. You always knew they were here, but you never allowed yourself to look at them, to imagine how they would grow repeatedly hollow with every thrust of his hips into you.

He finally digs out what he was looking for: a plaid picnic blanket, because of course he would have one in there. He’s wearing a little victorious smile when he stands and turns around to spread it on a grassy spot that looks a lot more comfortable than the hard ground. He turns back to you but averts his gaze to the side, hardly looking directly at you for more than a second at a time. The heat of his gaze tracing your curves through quick glances pools deep in your core.

“You know you can look, right?” You sure aren’t refraining from doing so after all.

His face reaches its usual redness—hasn’t he learned anything from making you cum like crazy with just his fingers? It’s cute nonetheless; Izuku will never change.

He doesn’t answer your rhetorical question, only gives you a shy command in that tentative, very cute voice of his.

“Could you lay down on this for me?”

You saw this coming, but still, you’re a bit surprised he’s asking you that out loud. You gladly oblige with your legs pressed together, slightly bent. It’s another golden opportunity to tease him a bit:. “This isn’t exactly the right use for this blanket. Aren’t we supposed to eat on this?”

He smiles at the ground while kneeling at your feet.

“Maybe that’s exactly what I’m planning to do.”

Your sly smile fades away. His tone is a contradictory mix of shyness and determination, so it’s a bit confusing but also unbearably hot—you swear an astounding wave of heat is crashing through your deepest parts, untouched, just from some words and a funny tone. You rub your thighs together before he grabs and parts them to slip himself between them.

He crawls over you and leans down to kiss you, a bit more confident than earlier. His hips are pressing between your legs, where you can feel his hardness best.

He’s rutting more and more against you as the kiss intensifies. You could think it’d be a lot less exciting now that you know he’s going to eat you out, there’d be no suspense. Wrong. The little shit apparently likes to tease you to death, because he left your lips to kiss your face, nip at your neck, suck at your ears. Dragging his devilish hands everywhere, pressing harder each time you get louder. An especially heavy whine makes him buck hard, his mouth back against yours.

“The more impatient you get, the slower it’s gonna be,” he murmurs against your lips, and starts to make his way down to where you want him, kissing every inch of you, clouding your mind with desire. It’s way too much and still not enough; it’s maddening. When he finally reaches down, you’re on the verge of a second orgasm like you hadn’t just come down a few minutes ago.

He’s holding your thighs apart in a firm grip. Just the touch of his fingers burns your skin deliciously, and the look he’s giving you from between your legs...his eyes are clouded, half-lidded, looking at the part of you he’s never gotten to see before. It feels like he’s been looking forever and just a second at the same time.

He finally dips into you, leaving butterfly kisses all over your inner thighs, punctuated by little nips, nuzzling the soft skin. He’s not looking you in the eye anymore, his gaze lingering all over your body—all over except for your face. You can make out a slight blush on his cheeks despite the dimness all around. You know him better than anyone, so you immediately recognize what’s going on in his mind just from the slightest hint in his eyes. He looks like he’s fighting a battle against himself, his shyness against his hunger. And you know who you’re both rooting for.

He finally gives in, and it takes your breath away. A single, slight lick on your clit and you’re gone. And the next ones, more and more intense, more and more hungry, push you further to tumble over your edge. He grunts into your heat, multiple times. Moans like he’s the one squirming under your mouth.

His hands hold a firm grip on your hips, squeezing the flesh and keeping you in place—he doesn’t even give you an inch to move. You can only take and take and take. But you still have the luxury of your free hands, and they rush to bury in the knots of his messy wet curls, your nails dragging, scratching his scalp.

His lips close on your clit and suck just a bit, and before you can refrain, you pull on his hair, hard. He gasps, and the moment you think you hurt him, he breathes his loudest moan, right into you. You’re filled with the vibrations—they spread all over your body, have you throwing your head back, trembling from head to toe.

The louder you are, the hungrier he gets, filling you with his insatiable tongue. You have to look at him right now. And you expected quite a show, but you certainly weren't prepared to see this—him rutting against the ground like an animal. You realize he’s getting off just from your taste, just from eating you out. His hips roll repeatedly, making you salivate just to the thought of those same hips bucking into yours, fucking you into oblivion. And the more he ruts, the louder he gets.

Now if he wants to moan, you’re going to give him a good reason to.

You hint for him to face you with a light tug on his hair. As soon as he’s back up, he dives in to kiss you. You don’t let him. In a second he’s on his back with you seated on his hips.

“What did I say about letting you play on your own, hm?”

The ‘deer caught in headlights’ look is so cute on him. And the rest is a marvel to look at. You’re straddling him and he has no other choice than to let you devour him with your eyes—not that he couldn’t bounce you off of him with just a thrust of his hips, but he already would have if he wanted to. You let your gaze wander mindlessly over him—it’s surreal. There’s no way he’s actually under you, waiting for you to please him back with his mouth and jaw still shining with your juices. It has to be a dream—it’s always been after all.

You shift so you’re straddling his parted thighs. You can finally take a look at him. The whole thing, that is. His cock is resting against his lower stomach, hard and swollen and thick. It’s a pretty, bright pink, shining with pre-cum at the tip. Your mouth waters just at the sight of it.

He’s looking down at you, his face as flushed as his dick, that usual blush still exquisitely coating his freckles. You take him in your hand, dive in to give a lick to the tip and his head falls back down with a whimper. You let your tongue drag over the whole length on the underside, and your lips close around the tip in a wet smooch. His hips jerk up a bit, startling you.

You finally take him whole in your mouth, and you can feel his whole body tensing under you. You start bobbing up and down, going a bit further each time, earning a series of shameless moans because this boy is loud. You expected him to express himself during sex since he’s such a mumbler—and frankly, it was always one of your biggest fantasies, hearing him come undone because of you, lose any sense of shame and self-restriction when he’s such a anxious person otherwise.

But you could’ve thought about it every night and day and still never be ready for this. It’s sinful. His hand goes to grab your hair just like you did to him, and now you get why he liked it so much. The feel of his nails scratching your scalp is electrifying, soothing and destructive at the same time.

Your tongue hits a precise spot just under the tip and he jerks up again, nearly screams, “Fuck—yes, right there, please—d-do that again!”

And you do, you can only oblige—he asked so nicely. Your lips go up and down, over and over, your tongue grazing this spot with a bit more pressure every single time. You squint over him, and what you find there is a mess. Trying so hard not to buck into your mouth but failing miserably. Sounding like he’s at Heaven’s gate.

“Easy, Zuku. You’re gonna scare the birds away,” you chuckle against him, your lips brushing the tip, dripping with your saliva and pre-cum.

“Do I need to remind you…how loud you were for me earlier?” He’s looking back down at you as he speaks, a tremble in his voice telltale of his approaching climax. “You sounded...so good, baby, I swear...wanna hear you again, wanna make you scream, just for me, fuck—”

You can feel yourself soaking the blanket, can feel the slick trickle down your folds and stain the plaid cotton. Is he aware of what he’s doing? Or is he just saying whatever is going through his chaotic mind? In any case it has you starving. So you let go of his cock and, before he can protest, crawl back to his face and kiss him desperately. Tasting both of your fluids in a mindblowing mix.

You pull back just enough to be able to speak, because you need him to understand you loud and clear when you say: “Please, Izuku, I need you inside me, I’ve waited so long. Please.”

“Okay, okay, fuck—” He cuts himself off, his eyes slightly drooping like a sad puppy. “I-I don’t have any condoms.”

“You mean you probably have pads in there for me but no condoms?” you say with your eyebrows raised, your mocking tone hinting at a teasing remark, far from criticism.

He frowns in confusion. “How do you know I have pads in there?”

“So the legend turns out to be true. After all these years—”

“Shut up, you’re impossible,” he chuckles heatlessly, resting his hands on your back.

“It’s okay. I’m on the pill,” you assure him with a soft tone.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m on the pill, yeah.”

He rolls his eyes, then clarifies, a hint of hesitation clear in his voice.

“No I mean...you’re sure you wanna do this?” He marks a brief pause, takes a short breath. “With me?”

You don’t even think before answering, it slips your mouth like it’s not even your own words: “I don’t want it with anyone else.”

There’s a silence.

“Fuck, that sounds cheesy,” you scoff, looking away.

“It does, but we’re both cheesy idiots, apparently.”

You look back at him. His smile is so fond, so loving; it melts your heart in the best way.

“I wanna be your cheesy idiot,” you say against his mouth, looking right into his eyes, willing to fall in them.

“You always have been,” he nearly whispers. It fills your stomach with familiar warmth, intense and overwhelming, comforting.

There’s a bittersweet taste in your mouth, one of regret and lost time and God, we’re idiots.

Now it’s about time you make up for it all.

You look down at him, rolling your hips against him, dripping all over his cock, coating him in your juices.

“I think I asked you something, didn’t I?”

A whimper escapes him at the feeling. His hips buck up slightly, hands gripping at your back. When you do it again, you don’t get the chance to see his reaction; you’re on your back again, him towering over you, his thigh between your legs.

He’s looking at you with something in his eyes you don’t recognize, but the tone he speaks with has your entire body quaking.

“And you’re gonna get it, sweetheart.”

He holds himself over his left forearm, his hand thumbing at your cheek while the other strokes the whole length of your thigh. Your noses are brushing, your breaths crashing together. Your hands hold tight to his nape, playing with the short hair mindlessly as you’re waiting to be filled, finally.

You feel the stretch instantly. You try to focus on those mesmerizing emerald gems he calls eyes. They look right through your soul, eating you up and you barely feel the pain. He’s taking it slow, inch by inch, giving you all the time you need, caressing your cheek with a tender stroke of his thumb.

“Relax for me, baby.”

Izuku’s voice is a soothing sound over the incessant chirping of the grasshoppers. It was always one of your favorite things to hear, its every tone another blessing to your ears. It’s loving when he asks if you’re okay, comforting when he whispers sweet nothings to you as you cry on his shoulder, heartening when he’s going on about anything he’s passionate about.

He’s kissing every part of skin he has access to, over your face, your jaw, your neck. You feel yourself relaxing around him, and roll your hips up to give him the hint.

When he starts moving it’s still slow and careful. He doesn’t break eye contact, so you can see his every reaction, and he can see all yours. His hand is still playing with your hair, even as his pace speeds up with every second. The weight of him over you feels amazing, it holds him close against you, countless parts of you both rubbing together: your chests, your stomachs, your thighs. He doesn’t even have a lot of space to move. But getting to touch and get touched by him like this, it's incredible. You always had him so close to you, always right there and still so out of reach.

You still need more; you’re insatiable. You need to see him come undone under you, because of you. You push him to roll on his back, and you end up straddling him, setting the pace yourself. You start bouncing up and down on his cock, taking balance on the hard planes of his abs. He immediately reaches up to grab your hips, guiding you along.

His face tenses up, frowning, his nose wrinkling, his lips parted just to let out a series of breathy sighs. He looks wrecked and dizzy and stunning. He’s keeping his eyes open, fixed up on you, specifically on your breasts, bouncing with your every motion. And you can feel his gaze on your skin just as much as you feel his hands gripping harder at the flesh below your hips.

“Eyes up here, Zuku,” you coo with two fingers pointed at your eyes.

He doesn’t answer, only sits up easily and wraps his arms around your waist.

“You look so amazing, you have no idea what you do to me,” he says with a trembling voice, filled with bliss.

Your heart misses a beat at his words, they fill you with warmth and comfort because he definitely doesn’t have any idea what he’s doing to you. He delves his face into your neck, kissing and nuzzling, his breath coming shorter and shorter, crashing against your skin and his hands running all over you. The sound of his hoarse voice resonates through the forest and through your soul, echoing an enchanting song.

With little effort, he puts you back under him so he can pound into you with full force, and your legs immediately come up to wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper. Your hands grab his hair, tugging to see if you get the same reaction as earlier, and it doesn’t miss: he lets out a groan right into your ear, speeding up his pace again.

The sky is dark now, and all you can hear are his moans and yours and the slap of your hips coming together repeatedly. Your head is thrown back when he grabs you by the hair, forcing you to turn your head and face him.

“Look at me. I wanna see you.”

“Izuku, I’m gonna—”

“I know, baby. Let go for me, come on.”

Just the feel of his hand trailing down your stomach awakens something in you, this familiar pressure growing tight in your belly. And when his fingers reach your clit, a couple of strokes are enough to have you screaming his name, tightening around him, and pulling him towards his climax with you. His thrusts come franticly as you milk him dry, clawing desperately at his back, panting in his mouth as he leaned down to kiss you through both your climaxes.

As soon as he comes down, he rolls over on his side, still laying close to you, an arm thrown over you. You both take a minute to catch your breaths and, weirdly enough, you don’t hear anything aside from your panting. You really must have scared the birds away. Izuku breaks the silence first.

“Do you wanna...sleep at my place?”

He’s looking over at you and, despite the sky getting dark, you can easily imagine the blush coating his cheeks right now, like he didn’t make you scream his name, drunk on his cock two minutes ago.

You can’t repress your fond smile at his proposition.

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

You take a minute to gather your clothes from all over the place and get dressed, then grab your bag to tug it over your shoulder.

“You got everything?”

Izuku is waiting for you just outside the trees. You take a quick look around, making sure you haven’t forgotten anything, and turn around without a second look at the place.

Because although it was your first time setting foot here, it definitely won’t be the last; you will come back here with Izuku every chance you get, making it your shared secret, your own little wonderland.

You gladly take the hand he’s offering, making him blush a little harder, and you head straight back into the forest together.

You walk side by side as a comfortable silence settles, only disturbed by the grasshoppers’ incessant, boisterous chirping. The sky is utterly dark now, you can make out a few stars shining above the dense trees. You walk at a steady pace, but Izuku is going a bit faster with every step. Soon enough, he’s walking a bit ahead of you, still holding your hand. Another golden occasion to tease his eagerness.

“Are we in a hurry, Zuku?”

In the dark of the night, you struggle to make out the look on his face as he turns around to look at you. A second later, he’s running, and with your hand firmly held in his, you can’t do much but try to follow along. You giggle as you run, and it quickly grows into a belly-deep laughter. He’s fast, doesn’t get tired, but you follow him anyway, probably as eager as he is. You have to zig-zag so you don’t run straight into the massive trees standing in your way.

You get to the car in no time, but you’re both out of breath when you finally get in your respective seats, ready to go home.

Izuku doesn’t even wait to catch his breath before he starts the car, the engine roaring loudly in the silence of the night, probably scaring the birds away for the upteenth time that night. You catch his happy grin in the headlights glow before he heads back into the road.

You have a feeling the night is not over; you’ve only got twenty years to make up for after all.

#bnha smut #deku smut #deku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #bnha x reader #midoriya izuku x reader #midoriya smut #mha smut #there it is omg it's long af #weasel writes

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corpseglider · 4 years

Text

pairing .. corpse x girlfriend!reader (fem)

summary .. in which you’re very crafty and corpse loves rings

part two .. read here

the first flower.

“Hey, Corpse?” You called from the kitchen, signaling with your voice for your boyfriend to make an appearance as your hands were very clearly full and preoccupied.

You’d been working on your own personal craft project for about an hour now, your hands being very tired, along with your drooping eyelids. You’d barely managed to get anything done with your lack of creativity and skill.

Some people were meant for the fine arts—you, however, were not one of those people.

The island counter was a complete mess, an array of flowers and string were sprawled across the dark granite, sprinkling little bits of nature around the normally stark room.

You, yourself, looked like a mad woman. Little bits of leaves and excess petals were stuck to your clothes, hair, and face. If you’d walk outside, any stranger passing by would assume you were a wicked florist.

“Yeah?” Corpse called out from his gaming room, currently in the midst of streaming but he always made time for you. “What is it, beautiful?”

He stopped before fully walking into the kitchen, taking in the chaotic sight before him, before a bright smile lit up his face.

Corpse let out a bellyaching laugh, stepping behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

You relaxed against his chest. Sighing in content as he gently picked away at the leftover flowers, throwing them to the counter in a careless manner.

He then took notice to what you had actually created, picking the only well made item up in the air and into his line of vision.

“You made this?” He asked, an expression of pure awe struck his features. He turned it around in his hand, getting a good look from every possible angle.

You nodded your head, taking the craft out of his grasp and into your own. “They’re rings, you see?”

“I saw something about them online and I thought I should give it a try.”

Corpse took your hand and raised it above your head, spinning you around to face him. He rested his forehead against yours and pressed a light kiss to your temple.

“I love it.”

You kissed him again, this time on the lips, before taking the ring in your palm and sliding it onto his pointer finger. “Good, because I made it just for you.”

“So you’ll always have a reminder of me during the bad times.”

He tapped your chest, right above your heart, proceeding to tap his own right afterwards. “I love you.” He whispered, not breaking eye contact for even a second. “With all of my heart.”

You smirked, pulling him in for another kiss, “As you should.”

the second flower.

You mentally cursed at yourself, accidentally walking into the night side table as you attempted to find your way around the bedroom in total darkness.

It’d been about two hours since you had woken up to work on Corpse’s birthday surprise, wanting the gift to be entirely perfect.

Replicating the original flower ring was much harder than you’d anticipated. Not having any material to base the new item off of was a real setback, but you had no choice as the first gift had died not even a week after it’d been worn.

Corpse was devastated when the flower wilted, having no way of staying alive without nutrition and a water source. He showed it to you, full of guilt for allowing your hard work to go to waste.

Although you reassured him that there was nothing he could’ve done to save the fragile flower, he still chose to keep it in his wallet. He said it was his lucky charm, not that those even existed.

But you thought it was cute. You love it when he expressed his love for you, even when it was in the simplest of manners.

Which was exactly why you’d woken up early in the morning to make Corpse’s birthday gift perfect. He deserved more than the best, and you were making sure that that was what he received.

“Corpse, wake up.” You said, softly shaking his shoulders while pressing kisses all over his cheeks. “Wake up, love.”

He groaned, taking his pillow and pressing it over his face. Though the look of low energy oozed from his aura, he made sure to give your hand a squeeze, giving you the sign that he was listening.

You proceeded to slip the new ring onto his middle finger, the familiar feeling causing Corpse to peek out from underneath the safety of his pillow.

He stared at the gift, fully processing the fact that he’d been sleeping without you, before yanking you with his grip and into the security of the comforter.

Corpse held your face in his hands, rubbing his flower dawned finger against your cheeks. A tired smile graced his lips, silently thanking you with the serenity of the sunrise beside you.

the third flower.

You knocked on the door of the gaming room, careful to make sure that it was an appropriate time to enter.

Interrupting Corpse’s streaming or recording hours was one of your least favorite things to do, accidental or on purpose. Corpse, of course. said he never minded, but getting in the way of his work would never be your intention.

“Come on in, Y/N!” He replied cheerfully, clearly in the middle of a livestream, but happy to hear that you wanted to visit him. “Say hi to the fans.”

You leaned into his mic, tapping it like a beginner to see if it was working. “Hi guys! Just popping in for a second to give Corpse a little present!”

Corpse’s ears perked up at your announcement. He sat patiently, looking at you with an adorable expression as you held your hands behind your back to add a bit of drama.

Slowly, you held out your lightly clenched fist above his open palm, dropping yet another flower ring onto his soft skin.

His eyes sparkled at the sight, bouncing slightly while he waited for you to do as you’ve always done—the very important job of sliding the ring onto one of his fingers.

You instinctively placed the item on the next finger over, which coincidentally happened to be his ring finger. He held his hand up to you, giving you a good look at your hard work.

“You’re amazing,” he smiled, his mic having been muted since you had finished saying your piece to the viewers. “You’re actually the greatest thing in my life.”

You scoffed at that, rolling your eyes at his exaggeration. “And you’re the most dramatic person in my life.”

Corpse laughed, returning to his stream after leaving his fans waiting for five or so minutes. You lingered in the room for a while, admiring his strategy and comfortability with his watchers, before leaving to get some of your own work done.

“What was it that Y/N gave me?” You heard Corpse say out loud as he read one of the comments after being killed early on in the round. You were sitting in the living room, realizing that you’d left the door wide open after you had left.

“She makes the cutest little flower rings for me. Hold on, I’ll post another picture of my hand so you guys can get a look at it.”

You clicked on Instagram as the notification that he’d posted popped up on your phone, liking the new photo without hesitation. Comments had already flooded the picture, all of them saying the exact same thing.

@user: is that ring on your wedding finger?!

@user: i think we lost him for real this time guys :(

@user: congrats on the engagement!

You laughed as you read the absurd conclusions that the viewers were jumping to, amused and grateful for their unconditional support of your relationship with Corpse, before a gasp escaped your lips.

@corpse_husband: guys were not engaged rn, but we will be once i finally figure out how to make these flower rings myself

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

#corpse husband x reader #corpse husband imagine #corpse husband imagines #corpse husband oneshot #corpse husband fic #corpse husband fanfic #corpse husband fanfiction #corpse x reader #corpse imagine #corpse imagines #corpse husband #corpse #among us x reader

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ohmysparkle · 3 years

Text

Skz Anal Queens

* Featuring: Minho + Hyunjin

* length: 1.5K

* warnings: smut, femdom, anal play, pegging, rimming, gaping (all male receiving)

* note: adapted from a reply I wrote to an ask on my prev account.

💖🖤💖🖤💖🖤💖🖤💖🖤💖🖤💖🖤💖🖤💖

Nsfw below

Original ask: Do you want something filthy? Really? A few minutes ago I remembered that there are guys who have their holes so ruined and used that it looks like they almost have pussy lips.

Let’s start with Minho. Sex god Minho who has fucked so many people in so many ways and he knows exactly what he wants. He doesn’t mind length and girth plowing into him, he’s probably into fisting too. He knows he likes the feeling of deep penetration as much as simply prostate stimulation, and his tiny little puckered hole in his pale ass is well trained to stretch out.

Minho is so masculine, his demeanor is pure testosterone. He’ll be asking you to pound him and just because he’s the one getting fucked in the ass doesn’t mean you’re in control. He’ll make you do exactly what he wants. Power bottom who loves control, and sometimes loves being treated like a submissive fuck toy too, but he’s an expert in managing to degrade you while your fucking him. Damn.

I can imagine him having such beautiful and natural hair around his cock and his ass. Might slightly trim to keep it neat, probably has a little trail of black fuzz from his belly button that dips into his tight pants, always teasing your line of sight.

So imagine him grunting fiercely and deeply when you’re shoving plastic into his ass, and there’s a moment when you pull it out and all that lube that’s spilled over his cheeks makes his pubes swirl in pretty glossy curls and his hole is absolutely wrecked. It’s not even a circular gape - it’s precisely a puckered rim that does look like a pair of lips, just weakly flapping closed.

He’s so fit, his bum isn’t quite plump but each ass cheek is perfectly rounded and he has those irresistible muscular thighs. Every part of his body is chiseled. And to think that all that firmness is contrasted by that floppy little fuck pocket in his core… you could cum on sight. You probably run your fingers over his puckered lips once his ass is done getting abused and you can practically see his red insides, and he’ll hiss and roll his hips against you to get more touch.

He’s filthy, he likes things dirty and he loves being cocky and getting his ego stroked. He might dare you, taunt you, to lick his hole clean even though he knows you hate the taste of so much damn lube - but he knows you can’t resist. You could make out with his completely flaccid asshole as if it were his mouth.

You’ll lick around the rim of his anus, and not deeper, just softly soothing, he won’t force you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, but he will grab your hair just to create the illusion of dominance.

Sure, Minho was in control of how you fucked him, but the next day when you see him shifting uncomfortably when he tried to sit down, wincing in pain, it brought a proud smile to your lips.

Besides, you were certain, if you weren’t so nice to him you could have him begging in his hands and knees for you to fuck him. The choice of who is in control is always in your hands, not his. He only gets as far as you allow him too.

Now, on to my favorite pretty princess prince of all time, Hyunjin.

He’s so delicate, so sensitive. He does like things to be intense, rough, in ways that sometimes surprise you because you don’t want to hurt your precious prince. He cries so much that you kiss him throughout, reassuring and comforting your little baby. Your soft pink boy, and his tiny delicate hole that is satisfied with even the smallest things.

Hyunjin’s ass is too tight for you to use toys that are too wide, but he’s good at taking length. You’re terrified of doing the slightest thing wrong for your prince so you choose positions where you can have a clear view of how your cock moves in and out of his tiny, skinny, peachy ass. His hole is pink from the outside, a little colorful button. He’s completely smooth and bare - loves to get beautiful and dolled up for you so this boy will wax himself raw. Sometimes you help him too, you think it’s cute but he gets too shy sometimes. Loves it when you help wax him and end up giving him a hand jib and kisses all over to melt the pain away, but he’ll fidget and cover his face in embarrassment the entire time.

He’s very intuitive as to your sexual dynamic, and he’s always ready for when you’ll go deep into him, being your little fucktoy of a prince. He’s sparkling clean, moisturized all over. As soft as a kitten on every part of his body. He’s got a tiny skinny ass that’s so perky and has the cutest shape to it, and that pink little hole that’s hardly puckered until you’ve helped him stretch out a bit. Rimming is a must when you know he wants you to fuck him hard, you want to start soft.

He loves it when you spoon, and his queen holds him in her arms as you roll your hips into his ass. He wants to feel you all over him and he’ll take your hand and guide it to his tummy so you can feel the bulge of the cock you’re fucking him with. You’ll go slow most of the time, but nonetheless it’s deep, and it’s still quite a stretch for him. He’s feeling so delicate now, like you can break him if you choose so. And the way you’re gently handling him, kissing him, wiping his tears away, it all makes him feel like he’s the most loved little boy in the world, and like he’ll only ever feel this with you.

He needs your body completely against his, maybe you’ll do missionary too so you can press your forehead against his while you look at his dreamy eyes.

But the best is when you lay him face down, and lay atop him to fuck his ass. You can go so deep like this, and he buries his face and cries into the mattress in the cutest way. Like a little bunny burrowing into the ground. He likes to cum in these intimate positions, only from getting penetrated, he’ll save his cock for your pleasure a little later on.

Once you’re done, you’ll pull out slowly, the tip of the dildo leaving his wet hole with a plop. His rim is the perfect gaping circle, all neat and smooth. But when his anus starts to wink from the contractions of his orgasm, it clenches shut and you can see just how puckered and stretched it really got. The shade of pink is much more intense, his poor abused bottom aching.

You wipe him clean and kiss his teary face while all he can say is that he loves you. You cradle him in your arms, his face buried in your neck, and your hands cupping his ass cheeks.

Bonus: he’s trying to train his pink hole more without telling you. So he’ll surprise you with a photo or video of the new toys he uses and he’s very good with the angles, showing you all the right things to tempt you. He’s gotten good at stretching his ass more, and soon enough he’ll ask you to rail him with these girthier toys until his pretty little ass can turn ugly with how harshly you use it, and he’ll be smiling like an idiot with pride once he manages to gape certain amounts. He will get his anus to swell and stretch enough until it looks like a puffy set of lips.

He will refer to his hole as a pussy, make videos in pretty underwear and lingerie that suits his tiny body so well. He knows he drives you crazy, but he really just wants to be pretty for you and do his best for you.

Oh, and you know cockwarming? Forget it, Hyunjin’s aftercare bliss is when you cuddle in a position that lets you leave your fingers buried in his ass while he falls asleep. It’s tricky but it’s what makes your little prince happy.

Bonus: when they’re in the mood to be painsluts, both of these boys can hook their feet behind their heads so they can watch how you penetrate them. It gives you the perfect angle to whip their thighs and ass, letting the tip of the whip even hit their little, pathetically hard and leaking cocks. Make a mess of them, and when they cum make sure their semen squirts all over their faces. Make them eat it if you’re in the mood to be extra mean.

After they cum, Minho will probably want you to go harder, make him cum more and turn him into a filthy sticky and used boyhole, but Hyunjin will probably break and cry and ask you to hug him and kiss him and tell him he’s a good pretty boy.

#stray kids smut #hyunjin smut #minho smut #sub!hyunjin #sub!minho #sub!idol #sub!skz

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majestyeverlasting · 3 years

Note

Could you do prompts 43 and 47 with fatws!bucky x reader? Thank you 😊

♡ Sure! Thank you for sending this request in, I appreciate your patience! These are quite the compatible prompts, and I tried my best to approach them in the most unique way I could manage. To give a summary as to what happens: Bucky and the reader attend a banquet in Washington D.C., but it isn't until afterwards that things take a peculiar turn as the result of a forgotten tube of lipstick. There's lots of cute moments and a little bit of a scare (but that's nothing a nice soak won't be able to ease away). Enjoy!

♡ Prompt 43: "Let me help you."

♡ Prompt 47: "Please let me take care of you, you’re bleeding.”

Remember the Good Parts

All around, there was dancing, talking, and laughter. Formality had been abandoned so that inhibitions could be released. The banquet hall of the hotel seemed elegant enough to have been fit for kings and queens. The paneling of the walls were trimmed with gold and each of the round tables were dressed in white cloth, floral centerpieces sitting in the middle. Hanging above it all were the most beautiful chandeliers. The crystals adorning them sparkled as if they were stars stolen from the night sky.

The invitation had been addressed to both you, and Bucky. Upon opening it, you learned that The Smithsonian Institute wanted to express their gratitude to the donors and sponsors who had shown continued support over the years. Especially in light of the new exhibits coming to the National Air and Space Museum. The evening itself was intended to be a time of meaningful dialogue and celebration.

The two of you didn’t hesitate to RSVP. Not only would it make for a well-deserved weekend trip, but was an opportunity to venture back to D.C. after being away from quite some time.

What came as a pleasant surprise that night was the moment in which you managed to coax Bucky up to dance. Not one word of protest escaped him as you led the way to where others had congregated and were moving to the rhythm of the music. A more relaxed song had started flowing throughout the room as the festivities were drawing closer to an end. You wrapped your arms around his neck and smiled when he placed his hands on your waist, squeezing gently.

“This has been nice,” he said.

You nodded. “It has.”

Part of you still hadn’t gotten over the way he’d cleaned up for the occasion. The dark strands of his hair were getting longer, and he’d gelled them back lightly. And the all black suit he wore made his blue eyes appear even bolder. After the two of you had been swaying for a while, you spoke again, “You know what I think?”

Bucky’s eyes flickered to your lips. You wore a rich, burgundy lipstick that complemented your dress and complexion. “What?” He encouraged.

“We ought to take a nice, warm bath when we get back up to our suite,” you thought aloud. “The tub is worlds bigger than the one we have at home.” Your fingers had begun to gently scratch at the nape of his neck.

He hummed. “That already sounds like a dream.” Then he leaned in to kiss you. It was short and as tender as the music in the air.

The event eventually did wind to its end. A Smithsonian spokesperson went to the main podium and made closing remarks about the importance of living in a way worthy of being remembered. It earned her a hearty round of applause and a few high-pitched whistles. Minutes later, attendees were filing out of the hall in a steady flow, some turning around to capture a final picture of the grandeur space. You and Bucky left right along with them, arms locked.

Nobody else was in the hallway when the two of you exited the elevator onto your floor. It was a long, empty stretch lined with warm lights. Taking advantage of that, you paced a few steps ahead of him and did a twirl as you walked—in a sleek pair of block heels, no less. The bottom of your dress caught the air in a graceful flow. When you looked back at him over your shoulder, he was shaking his head but his eyes were filled with adoration.

The first thing you did upon entering the suiet was go sit on the bed to take your shoes off. But Bucky spoke up, “Let me help you, pretty girl.” So one at a time, you raised your legs for him and watched the careful way he unbuckled your heels.

You smiled when he finished. “Thanks.”

“Mhm.”

That’s when you noticed the faint hint of pigment that your lipstick had left behind on him. “Hey, lean in for a second, Buck.” He obliged without question. You were still sitting on the edge of the bed. “There’s some…” You ran your thumb over his lower lip a few times.

“Lipstick?” He finished.

“Yeah—I got most of it off,” you said.

“It's a nice shade on you, by the way,” he said. "Very classy."

“Isn't it? I bought it a few days ago.” You dug into your purse in search of the tube, but it was gone. “Uh-oh.”

Bucky had begun to take off his suit jacket. “What?”

“I think I set it on the table just before we left the banquet... When I was looking for the card to our room.” A huff of air passed through your lips. “It’s probably been thrown away by now.”

He was quiet for a beat. “Not necessarily,” he said as he walked to hang up the jacket. “I can run back down and see.”

“Do you mind?”

“It’s no trouble,” he assured. “I’ll be right back. And then we can get to that bath you proposed earlier.” The wink he shot you on the way out made you bite back a smile.

I'll be right back, you replayed his words. But it came to the point when he'd been gone longer than what seemed necessary. That prompted you to peek your head out the door. All you were met with was the same long hallway, but with three strangers strolling down it. More time passed, and you found yourself on the bed again, preparing to call him.

A gentle knock on the door broke the stillness.

Bucky stood on the other side, a slender cut running across his left cheek a short ways beneath his eye. It wasn’t too bad, but blood had been drawn nonetheless. Before you could make an exclamation capable of disturbing the other guests, he slipped past you to get into the suite. It wasn’t until the door was closed that you attempted to vocalize the mix of concern and confusion swirling within your mind.

“Bucky!” Your eyes followed him.

“M'fine, doll,” he insisted.

“What in the world happened?” His slight frustration was evident in the way he resumed undressing as if nothing had occurred. “Hold on, baby, wait. Seriously.”

Bucky froze and looked directly into your eyes. You decided to use an even softer tone. “Just… Please let me take care of you, you’re bleeding.” You hoped your gaze was conveying your sincerity. On your way to move closer to him, you grabbed a couple tissues and folded them. A soft exhale left him when you pressed them to the cut, gently applying pressure to stop the bleeding. Neither of you spoke for a while.

Finally, he said, “Two guys brought an outside scuffle into the lobby. Nobody else was stepping in to break it up so I did.”

You lowered the tissues from his face. Due to the accelerated healing rate of his body and the size of the wound, the bleeding had already begun to subside. “And you got cut in the process?”

He nodded. “One of them had something sharp. Didn't really catch what it was,” he recounted. “And I didn’t wanna hurt them, so I couldn’t just flat-out tear them apart from each other.” His voice was low as he continued to speak. “But I was able to get 'em to stop. Some security guards showed up after the fact.”

You shook your head, briefly stepping away to dispose of the tissues. “I wonder why they were fighting in the first place.”

Bucky moved to sit on the bed, shrugging. “I don’t know, but it turns out they know each other pretty well. Apparently they’d just come back from a bar.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t get paid enough for this.”

With a small smile on your face, you went to go stand between his legs, looking down at his handsome features. The red cut stood out. "I'm glad it wasn't worse. Are you gonna need Band-Aid or something?"

He chuckled. "I'll live—check this out, though." he dug into his pants pocket and pulled out your lipstick. "Mission accomplished."

"My hero," you teased as you took it from him. There was a comfortable silence for a few beats. "What a night, huh?"

Bucky ran his hands over your hips. "I say we seal it with a good soak and only remember the good parts."

A laugh bubbled up out of you. "Deal," you agreed, starting to undo the buttons of his shirt.

Thanks for reading! Masterlist

#bucky barnes #bucky x female reader #bucky fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan #winter soldier #tfaws bucky #fatws bucky #marvel #marvel fic #tfaws fic

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fishstyx · 3 years

Text

featuring. college au!gojo satoru x fem!reader x geto suguru

wc. 9.2k

genre. dark/taboo, smut, angst

tw. 18+ nsfw, non/dubcon, toxic/abusive relationships, manipulation, victim blaming, dry humping, penetration, masturbation, irresponsible practice of bdsm, hair pulling, mild exhibitionism, size kink (both 6’3”, gojo can lift you), implied corruption kink, degradation, creampie, intoxication/alcohol, incel behavior, misogyny, dacryphilia

synopsis.

“Parading around as my personal fucktoy get you that excited?” he starts with a smirk, wide eyes drinking up your sharp inhale as if it were his own, inspiring pinpricks of heat to rise to your cheeks.

He hooks the hem of your skirt with his thumbs when he’s met with silence, pulls you from the doorframe just far away that he can release the elastic with a snap, silent snigger on his lips when it elicits a small sound of surprise from you. You nod in response, frantic bob of your head drawing a low growl from his chest and a “that’s right, I know what’s best for my pet,” as he lifts you off your feet and carries you to the bedroom.

notes. title inspo: love the way you lie (eminem, rihanna). you’re dating gojo, a charming, manipulative, self-entitled bastard. geto is, of course, his best friend, written as an aloof, self-righteous, bitter incel. please stay safe, read all the warnings, and enjoy. this is the most personal fic i have to offer. it draws from not-so-savory past relationships... i hope it remains the only testament to them. <3

links. broken toys. (sequel)

You were stunned into silence when he first suggested it.

And how couldn’t you be? Any sane person would, or at least should, have recoiled at the proposition. Isn’t that right?

But he makes it seem so harmless, so innocent, somehow. Like it’s no big deal, far from uncharacteristic for either of you—just a walk around campus, nothing new there. He tells you this like you’re overreacting, slow on the uptake, taking far too long to reach a final decision. The rational part of your mind says it’s out of the option. But the irrational part is louder, all-consuming, domineering.

The irrational part says, out of all your options, it’s the only viable one.

“Come on, babygirl. What’s the harm of trying it out once?”

It’s always this way, always has been. He takes your hands in his with a dramatic swell, the sparkle in his eyes big and bright and gleaming, and you bite back the urge to pull away. You would break your gaze if you could, if he didn’t look so determined, if that twinkling blue galaxy wasn’t sweltering with hope and adoration. But you can’t, and he does, and it just about swallows you whole.

The fact of the matter is, Gojo Satoru wants to take you out on a leash today.

Never mind today; he wanted this yesterday, the day before that, and the day before that, never one to shy away from his desires as you deliberated the entire time. By now he’s asked you to do this one, single thing for him far more times than you can count—initially playing it off as a joke, slowly feeling you out, gradually seeing how far he could push and pull until you explicitly told him no.

Except it’s never just one, single thing with him, and you—with the way you dance around the topic, hoping to give him the illusion that you might give in, or perhaps yourself the illusion of control—you never say no.

A simple line of defense, yes. Even you agree with that. But its execution? Around Gojo, it seems anything but.

Geto would beg to differ.

Geto.

The only other person privy to your latest concerns. The only other person you can bear knowing. And he’d be disappointed if only he could see you now.

Who are you kidding? He’s already disappointed.

A vague outline was all you gave him. A vague outline, you knew, not-so-deep down in your heart, was all you dare tell him—or anyone at all, really.

Because, sure, you’ve adopted a rather experimental lifestyle around Gojo, but that was supposed to be private. Reserved for behind closed doors, you thought, until now.

You were right in that the brooding brunette didn’t need every last grueling detail of Gojo’s newest request. He’s his best friend; he’s seen you at every single step of your whirlwind relationship together. The fervid beginnings, when the two of you couldn’t be physically separated, let alone in different rooms from each other. The ups and the downs, each one more intense than the last, each one blowing up in your faces before you ran back into each other’s arms and kissed and made up. You knew that much.

What you didn’t foresee, however, even as you recounted your latest grievance to him, was that nothing you were saying was new. To Geto it was regurgitated rhetoric, distorted and distressed, yesterday’s news—whereas you saw it as a unique conquest, a new hurdle to overcome.

“It almost amazes me how you can come up with so many new ways to say the same old thing,” he said, slanted eyes dull with apathy as they panned away from yours. “Almost.”

You could only choke on your words in response.

What Geto told you next is now a hushed murmur in the back of your head. It reverberates against your skull, pinballing against the walls of all that empty space and showing no signs of slowing down. It tells you to just say the magic word and it’ll be over, every last bit of Gojo’s borderline demands, washing away all of that white noise if only you’d breathe some life into it. That one word, the one that plagues your mind night and day, it begins to materialize upon your lips, poised and ready to spring into action, flexing on the tip of your tongue as if it were a wind-up toy.

Just say it already.

Just say no.

But you’re always holding your tongue around the both of them, together or alone, whether on the bony roof of your mouth or its flexible, fleshy floor, biting your words back for an eternity and more. Perhaps you were only faking yourself out, simply going through—no, barely feinting at the motions so you can come back to this chapter of your life and say that you tried. The moment passes, the pause your boyfriend gave at the sight of your mouth ajar long over, his words beginning to bleed into your reality once more.

And he’s saying, “I bought such a cute collar for you, too,” voice rising and falling with lovelorn disappointment. You can’t help but wince at his gentle timbre, all too painfully aware that such a small investment is far from the root of Gojo’s displeasure. You can hear it in his tone, too, how his carefree singsong runs steely as his thoughts begin to wander, settling on a resigned indifference.

So you wander, too. Tear your eyes from his in search of something, anything that might lend a reason to divert your gaze. Your fingers encircle white leather before you realize it, turning the thin strip over in absentminded idle, silver o-ring jingling in place. The metallic clank doesn’t go unnoticed.

“You should at least try it on before I return it, don’t you think?”

And you can’t find it in your heart to disagree, stiff choker tightening around your neck as he fumbles with the clasp. You trace the sanded edges before latching a finger—two fingers—beneath the leather material.

Perfect.

Perfectly irritating. Irritatingly perfect. It sits in the center of your neck without slipping, just snug enough that you can still breathe easy, comfortable and almost disturbingly so.

“Well?”

White lashes flutter idly as he considers your reflection as if studying it. And with the hint of a smile behind you, large hands on your waist in the mirror’s image, you start to think for the first time that the collar really is a pretty number, and a shame and a waste to throw away.

Because he looks so pleased now, creased cheeks and crinkled eyelids as he smooths his palms over your hips, like maybe you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever held. Because instead of the pouting you’ve come to expect, the declarations that you’re “no fun,” or that you’re “overreacting,” or that you need to “relax” you’ve come to accept, he simply brushes your hair to the side and rests his cheek against yours, warm breath just about tickling your chin.

It begs the question.

“Will you love me more if I do this for you?”

And it sends his eyes into a frenzied state, hungry void for pupils swallowing crystal irises with unabating greed, all frisky lashes and overeager ridges.

Ideally, he’d take your hands in his, tell you that that wasn’t his intention at all and beg for your forgiveness. Ideally, he’d hold you close, say that he loves you no matter what and promise to never push you this far again. You know all of these self-evident truths and more, yet you still can’t stop your heart from skipping a beat when he tells you, voice hushed in awe, triumph washing over you in spite of yourself:

“Of course I will.”

It’s different when you actually go through with it.

You try not to regret your decision immediately when you’re chained to Gojo’s hand in public, dog leash swinging in the wind as you round the campus loop. What a waste of a beautiful day for you to be hanging your head low, tips of your ears burning with shame. You don’t even believe that you’ve agreed to this yourself as you search the faces ahead of you for a trace of anyone you might know, pushing down the urge to cross your fingers behind your back.

But Gojo himself? He loves the lingering stares to tiny little pieces, practically basks in the attention as he pushes his sunglasses back so they rest above his hairline. Airy tufts of white spill over the tinted lenses, billowy strands coming to rest upon his forehead. When you think of it as your gorgeous boyfriend showing you off, it makes it all a little more bearable, has you standing up a little straighter. But your heart nearly stops every time you think you recognize the passerby, and eventually you dread the sight of absolutely anyone in the distance, for fear they will finally be a person who knows and calls you by name.

Gojo takes quick notice, realizes you hardly want to take another step in this undignified manner, and thinks to himself that there must be a better way to go about the arrangement.

His solution is to turn your walk of shame into a crawl of shame.

“On your fours,” he says, delighted when you actually crouch to the pavement, thankful for an excuse to hide your face. He ruffles your hair and slaps your hand away when you try to pull your skirt down, enamored by the way it rides up and reveals the lacy material below. You suppose it’s a trade-off you’ll just have to take, and in a confession that gets caught up your throat, you don’t wholly mind it: the pairs of eyes you can feel burning through you, though real or imagined you can’t be entirely sure. It makes you wonder if anyone wishes they were Gojo. It makes you wonder if anyone wishes they were you.

In the corner of your eye, you think you see someone sneaking a picture, but you don’t dare lift your head for a closer look. Instead you track the ground for rubble, hoping you’ll get away without scraping your knees, shaky line for a pair of lips as micro cuts come to crisscross your legs.

The rest of the walk is spent with you crawling the ground, light breeze tickling your backside, every part of you flaunted as if you’re Gojo’s most prized possession. You had better be, you think to yourself as you circle back to his building, and luckily enough, he’s about to make good on that expectation.

Maybe it’s the collar around your neck, or maybe it’s the surge of relief you get from returning, but by the time you meet the first glass door, you’re aching for whatever Gojo’s planned next.

He’s moving on predatory instinct the second you’ve set foot in his apartment, flushed lips curling around your own as soon as he pulls you up from all fours. A hollow knock sounds behind you as your heels strike the door, lower lip traced with a wet warmth until you’re gracious enough to grant him full access. He easily cages you with his entire frame, pressing that cute pink muscle in your mouth flat before writhing his own to the rhythm of his heartbeat, booming and ricocheting and alive.

It’s not nearly enough for either of you, of course, his hands beginning to roam all over your pliable form, all over his property, skirting along your outline and creeping closer still to the innermost curves of your contour cutout. Flitting fingers brush against your navel, dancing lower as you suck your tummy in by reflex, stopping right before the tingling bundle of nerves that just might explode as soon as he touches them.

But he takes pause instead, presses his forehead flush against yours, jewel colored eyes waiting on you with intent. You swear they can see right through you, even sheathed behind a cluster of wild white lashes, gauge everything there is to know about you faster than you can say “blue.” The moment freezes over, two bodies still and unmoving until you suddenly remember your need for air, gasping when you realize you’ve been holding your breath.

Your body bounces back from the force with which he tosses you into the mattress, giggles erupting from your throat when he climbs atop of you, tugging at your leash. A thin stripe of saliva trails up and down the column of your neck, laving intermittently over the leather that encases your flesh. A coppery taste, of earth and salt and smoke, dances on his tongue as his front teeth sink into the stretch of your collarbone, nipping and sucking at the delicate flesh. You sink into the bed as you ease into his touch, but he doesn’t give you much time to get comfortable.

“Touch yourself, then,” he says, “if you like to be watched that much.”

It almost sounds like a suggestion, especially with the way in which he uses the lightest touch to brush the stray hairs from your forehead, but you know better than that. Your fingers fly to the wet patch on your panties, thin material almost see-through with your slick, working the fiber flat against dampened skin. An echo of a chuckle reverberates throughout the room as he watches you, undoubtedly pleased by the way in which the fabric clings to your already dripping folds.

Large hands have your legs spread wide open by the time you’ve traced the outline of your clit, your little show put on full display for him. They stay pressed against your thighs as you venture loose, round motions around your sensitive nub. Too timid. You tighten the circles into a coiled spiral, mustering the courage to go harder, faster, the friction of cotton against delicate skin drawing small mewls and sputters out of your trembling form. The delayed relief is sweet, your arousal crying into the pads of your fingers as you pick up the speed. The image burns itself into his brain, watchful eye unfaltering as you play yourself to your heart’s content.

The very air itself seems to buzz as you hold the other end of his gaze, thick fingers running along your sides as you start to roll your hips into the palm of your hand. He’s bent over you with the twitch of his pants, too worked up to remain a bystander any longer as he blows and sucks up your neck. The open-mouthed kisses only hasten the buildup, sensation shotgunning down your body from the surface of your nape.

But the coil in your core knots itself far too early for your taste, and you reel your hand back right before you can realize your peak. You opt to drag a lone finger down your slit instead, afraid that with too much pressure, you’ll come undone before Gojo has the chance to get his fill.

Too late, too slow; he takes notice of your negligence immediately, eyes darkening at the pitiful way your hand skitters with abashment. He pulls away from the crook of your neck to get a good look at your dwindling handiwork, smirking to himself when you shrink in response.

“Having a little trouble there?”

His voice is deceptively singsong as he takes your sluggish hand in his, guiding your knuckles back to that aching button that has you arching your back and curling your toes. He repeats the motion, half a mind to force an orgasm out of you right then and there when suddenly, a whimper—yours—sends his eyes darting back towards your own.

“No, not like this,” you say with strained breath, and he quirks an eyebrow in response, working your fingers into the fabric despite the interruption. “I want more, I need…” your voice trails off, a sorry attempt at stalling.

“Need what?” he asks as he catches on, shit-eating grin somehow audible without you even looking. You don’t know how he does it, how he locks his desires up as you squirm underneath him, waiting ever so innocently for a proper response.

“Need, need you,” you say under your breath, and he cocks an eyebrow, a clear sign of an underwhelming response.

“Oh? I couldn’t quite catch that, princess.”

As if.

“I need you inside of me. Please, claim this filthy cunt,” you whine, determined to play, determined to win. Your hips buck into your interlaced fingers, searching desperately for the one word that’ll send him over the edge and finding it as the leather accessory rides up your neck—as if to remind you of its existence—“Master.”

And it does, it sends a jolt of heat to his groin, has him kicking his pants off and pinning your wrists into the sheets. It’s got him surging with primal need, tugging the pathetic mess of your soaked panties to the side with limitless hunger.

Because even though he’s drawn many names from your lips before, they’ve always been ones he’s insisted on, ones he’s downright pestered you about. Even the simplest “Satoru” was, admittedly, a struggle to pry out of you the very first time you got tangled in his sheets; you shielded your eyes then, cheeks burning and voice low as you whispered it in his ear. And look at you now, sprawled out beneath him as you edge yourself with a hand steeped in your own concoction, begging for his cock with that delicious nickname of your own admission, and it rings throughout his head like an addictive melody.

Master.

You can hardly recognize the noises he fucks out of you for the remainder of the night. He showers you with an unsavory slew of awful names, phrases you’ve never even heard aloud before, tells you that you’re his “freaky cocksleeve” and a “bitch in heat” as he jerks your leash without warning. And that’s exactly what you are, twitching for him like an animal as he screws you senseless, the most guttural of responses rising from your throat as he asks:

“Who do you belong to?”

And of course you respond, between labored pants, “You, master,” muscles taut as you fight for air, fingernails scrambling for purchase on his back but finding absolutely none.

It’s not until you’re entangled in a breathless mass that he pulls your head into his lap, strokes your cheeks and coos that you’ve been a good fucking girl, a thick mixture of his seed seeping from your gaping hole.

Morning always comes when you least expect it, sneaking up on you and peeking through the blinds before you’re ready to get going.

Gojo’s still passed out cold when you creep out of bed, only the most languid of movements used to pry yourself out of the mattress as your arms and legs ache for need of rest. The dull pain humbles you, delayed post-nut clarity finally hitting as you rub into your bleary eyes.

It feels like you’ve been struck by a train.

Your gait is but a tiptoe as you stalk towards his dresser, trembling hands slowly rummaging for something, anything that can provide you some cover. Your classes are starting soon, and whether his are, too, or whether he’s simply skipping out today, you know better than to rouse him from his toil-induced slumber.

It’s nearly inaudible, the sound of the door closing behind you, clank of metal but a whisper as the soles of your shoes kiss up carpeted floor. You’ve left it unlocked, just the way your boyfriend likes it, a small assembly of what you hope he’ll recognize as breakfast perched upon the kitchen table—the last traces of your visit left behind in a neat and tidy little package.

Your eyes find Geto’s once you turn down the hallway, small black beads peering into yours before taking a lap around the block to assess the damage. He must not like what he sees, this tousled morning-after apparition, faint patches of indigo and violet creeping out from under your—no, Gojo’s—oversized sweatshirt, because it’s a solemn sigh that hits your ears next and not a “good morning” or even a simple “hey” that acknowledges you.

Because he knows your average person wouldn’t notice the marks, too sheltered by all that thick cotton riding up your neck, purposefully pulled up just far enough that you wouldn’t see them unless you were looking. He knows your average person couldn’t have the slightest idea how you really scratched up your knees, pointillistic constellations of reddish purple threatening, however empty that threat is, to inch up your thighs. He scoffs.

“What do you even see in him?”

The words cloud the air before he’s completely aware of them, surprising the both of you as they surface.

You open and close your mouth like a fish out of water: for starters he’s charming, engaging, lively and free-spirited. He’s beautiful and he adores you, you want to say, but even though you have all the correct phrases picked out, all strung together in the same time and place, they don’t seem to roll off your tongue quite right.

You seem so tired, forced laugh falling short where it should flutter out of your mouth, the usual cotton candy you spout crystallizing before it can materialize.

“I could ask the same of you.”

It traipses out of your mouth before you can give it permission, easing itself into the atmosphere before sinking like a stone. Truthfully you don’t care to hear an answer, if only to avoid giving your own. You usher yourself out, pushing yourself past the towering wall of a human and stalking down the nearest stairwell.

Gojo knows just how to toy with your pride. But Geto? Geto knows how to slash it down to shreds.

The silence is deafening.

Geto sighs once you’re out of earshot, turning his heel to continue his trajectory. If anything, he didn’t want to run into you today, either. He cringes at the small collection you’ve no doubt assembled yourself, of iced matcha and a granola bar, staring him in the face as he stalks into the apartment. For some reason it only feeds into his mounting dread, the rising unease of what he might find waiting for him in the bedroom.

So he raps the bedroom door with his knuckles instead of barging in like he normally does, hoping in vain that he can get its sole inhabitant to lumber out himself. But of course Gojo doesn’t make it easy, letting out an obnoxiously loud yawn before stretching his lanky limbs with an equally obnoxious groan.

“You said to swing by this morning,” Geto half-yells, half says to himself, already prepared to turn tail and leave. He’s honestly surprised when he gets a legible response instead of the hungover mumbles he’s grown used to.

“Oh, that? Come in, it’s unlocked,” Gojo calls out, each syllable punctuated with tardiness. So Geto braces himself, puffing his chest out before giving the doorknob a firm handshake, stepping deeper into the belly of the beast.

Geto was prepared to see many things when he walked through that door. Something like lipstick stains and flavored condoms, S&M paddles and ribbed dildos. Instead he’s met with something completely other, the evidence already cleared away. Whatever late-night exploits you enjoyed are long gone, not a trace left behind by now, privy only to a grown man slumped over the edge of his mattress, grabbing around under the bedframe.

“Ahh, got it!”

With sleepy eyes Gojo lifts his head and presents to Geto the chrome colored box he’s fished out. It’s small and compact and ridiculously outdated, a conspicuous red button jutting out of its interface. He holds it up to his friend’s face, and the device finally registers.

A voice recorder.

“What, they still make those things?”

Geto schools his features easily, wiping the shock off his face before it can even materialize. It’s not exactly a lie; he knows he shouldn’t be surprised at all that Gojo has kept such an antiquated device for the occasion.

“You act as if you’ve never seen one before.”

It’s a smirk that’s plastered all over their faces now, one that nearly matches the one across from the other, and knowingly so. The two burst into laughter at the ridiculousness of it all, Gojo slapping his knee and Geto clutching onto his sides. They’re not sure who starts it, but one of them high fives the other.

Girls like you are oh so naïve.

Your wish is granted for about a week total.

Gojo keeps his promise, of loving you more and loving you better, throughout the remaining weekdays.

He takes you out for brunch, picks you up after class, and best of all, doesn’t ask anything more of you, doesn’t ask for anything better.

He opts to shower you with gifts instead, of stuffed animals and chocolates and bite-sized amenities, insisting that you take them all, no strings attached. Your nightstand overflows with his presents, mismatched tokens that remind you of his affection even when you’re not together. And although neither of you explicitly verbalize it, it seems like his way of apologizing. Silently.

You whole-heartedly accept.

This is the Satoru I fell in love with, you think to yourself as he pets your head one sunlit afternoon, grogginess setting in after a particularly big meal. You nuzzle into his lap and relish in the soft filtered light, sprawled out on your side on the living room sofa. He has you gazing upwards at a tap of the shoulder, all softened eyes and unkempt locks of hair, the smell of sandalwood and fresh dry cleaning enveloping you entirely as he leans in for a faint forehead kiss.

“What’s up?” you half ask, half mumble, eyelids heavy with sleep.

“Just wanted to see my princess’s face,” he says, a fleeting grin on his rosy lips. A hollow thud sounds as you play-punch him in the chest, but you roll over from your side to look up at him anyway.

“You happy now?”

“Overjoyed.”

The two of you lock eyes, slivers of white hair undoing themselves from behind his ear as your breath syncs up slowly, gradually. He stares at you with such longing that you would think you weren’t laying right atop of him, and you struggle to hold your ground.

“Are you—”

“Yup.”

You groan, eyes overcome with on demand prickling. “No thank you,” you proclaim as you squeeze them shut, uninterested in indulging him a staring contest. Moments pass and your eyes stay closed, a tide of tiredness washing over you. You loosen up, head rolling back as you allow yourself to relax.

Big mistake. He takes it as an invitation for his hands to descend upon you, attacking your sides in an attempt to tickle, and you jerk away instantly.

“What the—Sato, cut it out!” You bat his arms away, one eye open as uproarious laughter fills your ears.

“If you’re gonna fall asleep then at least let me lay down too,” he says, drawing out the last word as he props your upper half up. He takes your place on the sofa before pulling you on top, and you huff as you fall into a pile.

“Jerk.”

“Your favorite jerk, though.”

Oh, he definitely feels it when you smile into his chest.

The weekend arrives without issue.

Wednesday night you’re watching the sunset over melon sodas.

Thursday night you’re falling asleep on Facetime.

Friday night you’re in the midst of downtown Tokyo, multicolored lights casting your faces in ethereal glow as you work against the hustle and bustle of regulars and tourists. Karaoke songs eat up the most of your visit, Gojo’s voice slowly going scratchy until the crowd finally works the nerve to drag him offstage. You spend the remaining time hopping restaurants, ordering exactly one dish at each location, slowly working your way through a full course meal. The waitress who serves you nothing more than a plate of gyoza gets an especially generous tip.

Dessert is by far his favorite dish: a deluxe parfait, served in a tall, American-style glass and filled to the brim with sorbet. You can still taste the fruit toppings, fresh and fragrant and honeyed on your tongues as you swap saliva in the back of his car. He cups your face with one hand and holds the small of your back with the other, pressing dangerously close against your body. When you finally have the chance to breathe, a thread of spit trails between your lips, in memory of your union. It glistens in the color of the muted city lights, persevering through the window tint in all of their electric might. A mischievous glint reaches his eyes, and all of a sudden he’s pulling you on top of his lap.

“We can get away with this much, can’t we, princess?”

And you oblige, patch of wetness already creeping through your panties as he starts to move, clothed cockhead grinding against the curve of your ass. He’s louder than usual, quivering groans crumbling as they reach your ears, his hips rolling in stuttering motions. You feel as if you’re aflame, pulsating with need, decadent sweetness enveloping your senses every time he pulls in for a kiss, every time he grazes you with his pubic bone. Your clit sings with praises as he pushes you down by the hips, whispering how good you’re being for him, how gorgeous you look in the dress he bought you, and you make a silent wish in the faint moonlight that the moment will never end.

But it seems that good things always meet their end, and come Saturday night, the monster rears its ugly head again.

Because on Saturday night, Gojo’s got you hanging on his arm, the two of you ascending concrete steps to the usual place. Same group of people, different game every week. The two of you are greeted with sweet sighs and boozy smiles, clink of bottles surrounding you as they prepare this week’s drinking game. Gojo’s a lightweight and Geto sticks to designated-driver duty, so it usually works out just fine.

Just not this week.

If Gojo was the sun, then Geto was the moon.

It always seemed to Geto that his best friend had everything in the world he could possibly need: looks, charisma, and status, all readily available to him without much effort of his own. And honestly? He loathed him for that.

As soon as the clock strikes midnight, Geto knows there’s absolutely no way he’s making it to the party. Instead he opts to spend Saturday night alone in the comfort, or perhaps the prison, of his own room.

Because the sun is a star that births brilliance, instilling vitality and inspiring vigor wherever it goes. Whereas the moon only picks up in the after hours, left to guide the lost and the wandering in the nighttime. He feels like he’s always scraping the bottom of the barrel, the pool of women he can choose from limited to the gaggle of bumbling stragglers who lament, still, the absence of the blinding sun. And for the past twenty or so years of his life, those bumbling stragglers have not so much as glanced back at him, too enchanted by the liveliness of day.

Worst of all is that softheaded people, scatterbrains just like you, they think they can fix Gojo, super-fucking-nova Gojo who burns it all up, destroying everything in his course of direction. Part of Geto thinks it’s absolutely deplorable, the way in which pea-brained whores throw themselves at him, hankering for his attention and jumping through all the hoops necessary to get just that. But part of Geto also wants to have his own stake in the fun, and Gojo—pretty boy, genetic-lottery winner Gojo knows this all too well.

The glint of the moonlight taunts Geto as it reflects off the silver-toned box in his hand, bold “STOP,” “REC,” and “PLAY” lettering practically chanting his name in the dim illumination. He was told that the handheld device was safer with him, well out of your reach in the confines of his single dorm, and he supposes that’s the truth, what with the lack of foot traffic in this cramped room that lacks of fresh air and sunlight.

It’d be doubly safer if he’d just tuck the abomination away, stick it deep in the corner of his sock drawer or perhaps somewhere underneath the bed frame, but he’s kept it well in sight ever since he first laid hands on it. He clutches it tightly as if it just might disappear when he lets go; chances like these are rare for him, to be so close in proximity to the wanton whines of someone he knows and sees almost daily. And if it’s anyone’s fault that you’re still fucking an immature bastard, a privileged manchild who gets pretty much everything he wants, it most certainly isn’t his own.

It’s just so exhilarating, to be able to cradle the cool metal in one hand, throbbing cock in the other, drawstring sweats already halfway down as he thumbs at his flushed, pink head. He’s kicking his pants off as he leans into bed, flat of his slicked-up fingers laving over the sopping tip that cries and weep for release. He’s already imagining it, the kinds of o-shaped faces you make with a leash dangling from your neck, bubbling with excitement and intoxication and jealousy at the mere thought. But he doesn’t start the audio yet, fumbling for his stash of lotion before moving to fist his cock in its entirety, twitching creature red with excitement as he jerks it up and down.

It feels so intimate to him, the fact that you’re so close yet so far away, musical mewls available on demand whenever he so pleases. He quickens the pace, palm of his hand practically flattening the vein on the underside of his cock as he starts to buck his hips into his tightening fingers. He’d just love to ram his dick down your throat one day, but for now he’ll have to make do with his hands.

He hits “PLAY” with bitter determination.

The very first sound of crumpling bedsheets has him curling into a full-body tingle. He’s close, so close he can almost taste it, but he keeps his concentration on the audio speaker, waiting for something, anything to heighten his arousal. He sucks in the cold air between his teeth, curses threatening to pour from his lips at how right, how wrong it all feels. The anticipation is short-lived, however, broken by the sound of Gojo’s voice, just barely recognizable in the speaker’s tinny, superficial quality.

“My, my,” the silver-haired deviant says, corners of his mouth undoubtedly upturned as he leans into the microphone.

“Just what do you think you’re doing, Geto?”

The voice recorder hits the floor at the sound of his own name, blood pressure rising as his arms and legs tense up in disbelief. His own orgasm slips away and out of reach in an instant, petering out in wretchedly slow motion as his stiff cock throbs with pitiful languor. He wants to laugh, he wants to cry, wants to curse the world for ever thinking you were actually within his reach, wants to chuck the accursed gadget across the room and watch it scatter across the floor in glittering smithereens. Or maybe he just wants to cradle his head and sink into the ground, face his back to the despicable device for the rest of the night as the cold seeps into his sides, but he’s not even sure where the damn thing skittered off to and his head is spinning and his eyelids clench shut and the world just grinds to a halt.

Gojo doesn’t take the news well.

Gojo doesn’t want to take it at all.

You’re chatting up the party’s host, a premed student in the same year as him, when you first notice him glancing at his phone.

“So how are things? Between you two, I mean,” Shoko asks as she follows your gaze.

“Couldn’t be better” is your absentminded answer, and she stifles a laugh—a perfect relationship with the Gojo Satoru? But you’re only half listening as she expresses her disbelief, eyes never quite leaving Gojo’s back as he shifts away from the mass of people and shuffles towards the windows, cell phone in balled-up hand.

The first call is inconspicuous enough—Geto has a habit of running late, after all. But when you excuse yourself to the bathroom and come back find to Gojo still holding the phone to his ear, half crouched with his lips screwed up in a pout, you know something’s off. Part of you doesn’t want to take your place beside him, but he pulls you down by the wrist, grip strong enough to leave dime-sized bruises.

They’re explaining the game of the night before you can ask him what’s up: a pitcher of beer will round the group of players, all sat in a circle on the carpeted floor, each and every one taking turns trying to steal the last drop. It’s a familiar setting, the music but a hum in the background as the participants buzz with idle chatter, but the person beside you feels alien somehow. The woolen material pills underneath your toes as you curl them into little balls, eyeing him with a sideways glance. You know better than to raise the issue when his foot’s tapping the floor with such force, rapid rhythm almost matching the incessant pace with which he thumbs at his phone. He’s calling Geto three, four, five times before changing tack, demanding an explanation through text.

Shallow breaths are all that fill your lungs as you keep as still as possible, trying your best to get a good read on the screen. If the slump in his shoulders is any indicator, you’re sure he’s seething at the words that light it up. But before you can make out a single phrase, he’s slamming the phone down with one hand, clenching the pitcher of freshly poured beer with the other.

His turn to take the first swig.

He ends up gulping until you’re sure he’s out of breath.

“Whoa there, Satoru,” the person next to him says when he sets the pitcher down, nearly emptied. “What the fuck was that?”

His wrist rises to wipe the corner of his mouth and he exhales sharply, as if his simple reply requires strenuous effort.

“DD bailed on us,” he announces, “fucking flake.”

“Maybe we should have you sober up, then,” someone else, likely Shoko, calls out from across the room.

The change in his demeanor is instant.

“Ah, we’ll make it back in one piece, won’t we?” Gojo’s glance darts sideways, playful lilt betraying the ice he has for eyes.

The room hushes, waiting for an answer, and you sit up straight when you realize who he’s asking. You quirk an eyebrow, amused. With his cheeks already flushed, what seems to be a pointed gaze unfocused and glassy, you can’t help but beg to differ. You know the answer he wants to hear with every bone in your body. But every fiber in your being knows the truth.

“Bullshit.”

The entire room erupts and it’s decided, against his will, that you’ll be spending the night.

Everything falls apart from there.

Shoko shows you to a guest room once the others begin to clear out, dark circles carved out by cool white fluorescents that cast shadows behind her puffy eye bags.

“Sorry it’s so small,” she says, gesturing at the lone mattress, creeping moonlight like a spotlight on its linen-lined surface.

“It’s everything we could ask for,” you say as Gojo falls into bed, sprawling out against the twin sized sheets. “Thanks for letting us crash.” She shoots him a tight lipped smile before placing a deft hand on your shoulder, brown locks cascading as she leans into your ear.

“Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

The night is long and never-ending.

Teeny tiny bits of skylight taunt you from above as Gojo proceeds to keep you awake well past twilight. He’s tossing and turning in the guest bed, kicking the blanket off the both of you with spiteful purpose, inviting in the cool night breeze. It nips you from your face to your toes, colder still even as he tightens his hold on you, and you decide to finally break the silence.

“You still mad about that one thing I said?”

He scoffs, huff of breath like a shot to your neck.

“You seriously have to ask?”

You tense up immediately, spine straightening flat against his chest as he continues, edge to his voice swelling as it looms behind you. “Honestly, who do you think you think you are? Always acting like you’re better than me.” Razor thin needles lodge themselves into your scalp as he pulls your hair back, your chin meeting chilled air as you offer up a whimper.

“It’s not like that.”

He only tightens his grip on your hair, pulling it back harder still.

“Think I need to remind you of your fucking place,” he mumbles as he presses into you, something stiff rocking against the fat of your thighs.

“Not here,” you breathe, eyes widening as you realize his intent, the alcohol in your system seeming to swirl in your head. He staggers his hips in response.

“Wasn’t a problem in the car.”

“Satoru, they might hear us,” you say, the steel in your voice cracking as his free arm snakes around your side, searching for the hem of your pants. “Mercy,” you try again, the familiar, agreed upon safe word sounding foreign and unfamiliar when it comes out but a croak. It hurtles from the shelter of your lips, forever lost as the strain in his pants only grows, breath going ragged as he ruts into your hips.

“Just let me have this.”

And he revels in the way in which he easily overpowers you, enamored in how his towering frame nearly swallows you whole. When a particularly loud groan—one you’re sure anyone in a neighboring room can overhear—escapes his lips, you blister with shame, burying your face in the pillow, limbs aching for need of sleep.

And then his breath hitches as he chases after fireworks and explosions, captivated by the way that you squirm in vain. His palms claim your hips as his own, cockhead grinding behind you, servicing himself with feverish concentration. He presses your side into the mattress, ass cheeks squeezing together like a homemade fleshlight, and you arch your back in a sorry attempt at evasion.

He groans in response, knees buckling together as he brushes up against the makeshift curve, and you stop struggling altogether. Your body buzzes from the touch, head swelling like a balloon, skin crawling from the jerky movements as you go limp as a ragdoll.

“God, you’re so good to me,” he says, praise anything but endearing when it hits your ears. It’s the same kind of acclaim he gave up just the night before, but it cheapens as he repeats it, banal phrase playing over and over in your head. He’s still humping your butt when he cums, shaky and delirious as he rides out the high, profanities rolling off his tongue until he’s shuddering himself to sleep. All is still once he’s blacked out from the stimulation, pitter patter of salted frustration the only movement left over as it soaks the pillowcase through and through.

You lay awake, caged by his toned muscle, trapped by his carbon curses, praying for sleep until the birds begin to chirp. They sing a song that they borrowed from the night, a harrowing lullaby that has you in a panic, slipping out of his grasp as you crawl out of bed.

By the crack of dawn you’ve tiptoed into a cab, belongings clutched tight to your chest, apartment complex shrinking in the distance, but it never seems to get further away.

Geto hasn’t breathed a word about the voice recorder.

Geto doesn’t want to think about it all.

He’s paying for it now with a barrage of daily phone calls from none other than Gojo himself, who dials him day and night and morning, no regard for moderation. Geto regards the fallout as both of their instant karma, still miffed by the prank he’d just fallen for, but unwilling to reveal his folly. He fills the role of trusty confidant nonetheless, his betrayal as M.I.A driver long forgotten. It’s a spectacle, the frenzy Gojo is bound in, and he might as well watch from a front row seat.

But he hasn’t made a full recovery yet, forever irked at the pretty privilege Gojo takes for granted, the privilege he downright hoards for himself, barking into the speaker when he feels his blood begin to boil.

“Seriously, what did you do this time?” He wants to tear his hair out at Gojo’s stupidity, his utter lack of tact, wants to pull out his front teeth and pulverize the dental tissue into a fine powder when he’s met with momentary silence.

It’s been a few days since you left the guest bedroom alone in the wee hours of morning, and Gojo hasn’t been able to get ahold of you since. You haven’t been answering his texts, his calls, Christ, he even tried your personal email, and now Geto finds himself shouldering the brunt of his correspondence, trying everything in his power to get him to calm the fuck down, albeit fruitlessly.

“Nothing we haven’t done before,” Gojo insists once he’s found his choice of words, spitting them out one by one, raking stiff fingers through colorless locks. “I got a little handsy, but it was seriously nothing.” Geto shakes his head and rubs his temples; nothing isn’t enough to make you walk out on him.

“If you’re telling the truth, then stop worrying already.” A stray section of his bangs fall forward, sweeping over his eye as he slumps over in his chair. “But if you’re lying—” he starts, cut off by the sound of chaste knocks, an unassuming 1-2-3 kissing up at his door before he can finish.

Saved by the mystery visitor.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d sigh relief, eager to break away from the droning and moaning of the spoiled brat on the other line. Instead he gives pause, as if weighing the cost of answering the door against the merit of staying put on the phone, moment’s hesitation only giving way to a guaranteed getaway.

“Hold on, I need to get this,” is all Geto says as he hangs up the phone, equal parts appreciative and skeptical of the person at his door. He isn’t exactly friendly with anyone on his floor, and few would show up here without asking first, so he peers through the peephole, curiosity getting the better of him.

And lo and behold, speak of the devil, it’s Gojo’s missing girlfriend, standing alone with her hands twisted together.

Amazing. You’re quite literally the very last person he wanted to see right now.

“Do you have any idea how worried he is?” Geto snaps when he answers the door. You have no idea what kind of mess he has on his hands. “Go and make up with your boyfriend already.” He moves to close the door but you react quickly, wedging yourself before the doorframe, eyes wide and pleading.

“I’m in trouble, so please...” You scramble for something half believable. “I can’t turn to anyone else.” He laughs in your face, eyebrows quirked with mirth at how genuine it almost sounds.

Almost.

“Don’t give me that.”

“No, I mean it,” you press on, unwilling to admit that anyone else who’d listen to your cries for help, from trusted family to doe-eyed friends, would undoubtedly have you in a beeline for the authorities. “You—you’re the only other person who can put up with Gojo.”

That gets him stopping in his tracks.

“Barely,” he scoffs, but the pressure on the door lets up. He hates that you have a point there. Hates that he can’t look away from Gojo and his silly antics and his daring ploys and especially hates that he has that in common with you. He wants to turn you away but you look so hopeful, ignoring the dulling pain of the door trying to crush your foot flat.

He bites the bullet.

“You know he’ll be pissed if he finds out you came to me first, right?” You screw your lips together when he cracks the door slightly.

“Well, he doesn’t really have the right at the moment,” you sniff, barging in when he lets go of the door completely.

The room is impossibly smaller than you ever imagined, in direct contrast to all the empty space in Gojo’s rental. It’s a wonder how all his necessities fit in the cramped shelves and tiny drawers, and you almost marvel at the scale of it until the sound of wood on vinyl tiling snaps you back to focus. A few stray articles of clothing are plucked from the ground and chucked to the corner before he’s pulling two chairs up, one for you and one for him. Once he’s sitting, you have his full, unadulterated attention.

Not that you know what to do with it.

It takes a while to find your voice, fiddling with your fingers as you try, unsuccessfully, to hold his gaze. There’s no clock but you swear you can hear the second hand ticking. The curtain’s closed but you’re sure you can feel the heat of the sun disappearing. You’re certain that it ebbs below the curve of the horizon as you watch, timidly, the tap of Geto’s wooden sandal. It remind you of the clack of Gojo’s dress boots, impatience slowly exceeding its carefully drawn bounds.

You time out a moment of silence.

And then another.

And then another, until Geto is staring you down expectantly, pinpricks for eyes. You take the hint.

“I said it.” You look down, fidgeting with your shirt. “I said no.”

His eyes soften immediately, struck by the raw edge of your voice, your inability to look him in the eye.

“And he didn’t respect that?”

“He touched me. When I asked him to stop.” The words have to force themselves out your throat, the little bit of courage you have all that keeps the walls from collapsing in completely. You take as deep of a breath as you can manage when the memory flickers through your mind, clear as yesterday. “He—he fucked me through his clothes.” Your head’s buried in your hands as you fold into yourself completely, rocking in place, and something rages inside of Geto.

“Wait, what?” Geto looks at you incredulously, disbelief scrawled all over his face, eyes narrowing when you keep your head down. “Through his clothes?”

You nod slowly, knowingly, and he feels as though the world is spinning all over again. The ground seems to shift beneath him as your face contorts in pain, saltwater already beading up along your lower lashes. That’s it? That’s what this entire circus is on about? He cards his hands through his hair as he tries to process it, shaking his head when you fail to respond. That’s all it takes for your whole body to quake, hard lumps bubbling up your throat at the bite of his words, breath stuttering irregularly as your windpipe starts to clench up.

And then you’re crying, body wracked with hiccups as you try to quell the chills crawling up your skin. Your chest heaves in a sorry attempt to keep up with the lurch of your lungs, sputtering as you try to suppress your voice.

“God, you’re all so fucking annoying.”

He watches you bubble over, feeling his own emotions swell as they hit a critical mass, stomach churning at the sight. You couldn’t manage a comeback if you wanted to, a blubbering mess as you try to wipe your eyes dry. The small bit of composure that’s kept him whole these past few days finally snaps when the tears trail down your hands, no end in sight in the onslaught of waterworks.

“I bet you wanted it,” he continues, unfazed by the fattening tears, fingertips digging into his thighs as he spots the yellowed bruises he jacks off to at night. He leers at the fading brown and imagines them overlaid with fresh, new marks, gleaming blush and fiery crimson. “I bet sluts like you don’t care what happens as long as they get dicked down in the end.” A quiet sob tumbles out of you and your cheeks tingle with hurt, like you’ve been backhanded once, then twice.

“It’s n-not like that,” you finally manage to say, gasping through choked noises as he creeps closer, cloaking you in shadow. He stares vacantly from his vantage point, as if looking at an ant on the tiles.

“Then why don’t you walk away for real?”

And that’s exactly what you should be doing right now, cornered by a large man in his dark, dingy room, but by the time you think to stand up he’s grabbing you by the wrists. He sends you barreling into the desk, spinning you around so your hands clutch the edge, chest pressing up against the surface. He pins an arm behind you with ease, kicking your legs wide open, and you flail the other in no particular direction.

“You secretly enjoy all of it, don’t you? You secretly get off on the idea of being raped by your boyfriend.” He sneers as you buckle underneath him, grazing his growing erection. “All worked up over a little dry humping? Get over yourself already. You females want to be hurt so bad.”

“Fuck you,” you manage between muffled sobs, chest feeling as if it’s about to break in half. “You’re j-just like Gojo.”

“Just like Gojo?” Geto echoes, free hand coming to snake between your thighs, voice catching as he speaks. “You’re sorely mistaken.”

You fall limp as he draws a single finger under your panties, tracing your hipbone as he muses. He imagines their contents, imagines how easy it would be to take you by force, sighing aloud at the prospect of doing it without.

“I can never be him.”

#gojo smut #geto smut #geto x reader #gojo x reader #jjk smut #tw. dark.#tw. noncon.#tw. dubcon.#tw. influence.#tw. toxic.#tw. penetration.#tw. showoff.#tw. size.#tw. degradation.#tw. corruption.#🍣.food #fishstyx.jjk

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whereisten · 4 years

Text

Devotion/Obsession

A Jaehyun fic that’s part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: Jaehyun is new to town and wants you to show him around. But the truth is, he has known you for a while..

Pairing: Lucifer!Jaehyun x female reader

Other Characters: Husband!Kun

Genre: angst, smut, horror

Warnings: cursing, alcohol use, cheating, stalking, obsession, possessiveness, smut: breeding kink, unprotected sex, nipple sucking, size kink, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), multiple orgasms, c*eampie, pregnancy, character death.

Word Count: 8.9K

(A/N: okay ummm...this is influenced by stories told in the Bible, I hope I do not offend you with my interpretation, Jaehyun in this is a huge stalker!! This isn’t love, he’s obsessed and it’s unhealthy. But I hope you guys enjoy❤️ THANK YOUUU ARI FOR PROOFREADING THIS FOR ME I LOVE YOUUUU❤️❤️❤️❤️😭)

——————

Long ago, there were two beings on Earth, Adam and Eve. They were created by God and tainted by Lucifer, the serpent. The serpent found himself in love with God’s creation, Eve, for she bears a striking resemblance to his first love, Lilith, whom God cursed and sent away.

God’s most beautiful angel, Lucifer, fell in love with Lilith even though he was forbidden by God to do so. He tried to fight for her in a war against the angels of Heaven, but was struck down to Hell where he could rule the dark. He saw Lilith become a demon. Her beauty had gone away as God made her ugly and it hurt Lucifer to even look at her anymore.

And so, Lucifer turned to Eve and loved her instead, polluting her mind, body, and soul and thus, causing her to be cursed by God as well. She was hidden by God from Lucifer. He grew angry and decided to continue to defy God by living on Earth and causing havoc on both small and large scales.

He went by the name of Jaehyun now, a strikingly handsome bachelor with a mansion on the outskirts of a popular city. He stayed on Earth at the exact point above hell where his throne rested so he could cause evil to run through the city unstopped.

He never forgot about Eve. After all these years, his soul still yearned for her. He cursed at God for hiding her from him and for taking not one, but two of his dearest loves away.

He would walk through the city and see all the couples enjoying each other’s company. They’d laugh and smile and he’d wish nothing but pain for them. If he couldn’t be happy, why should they?

Then one day..he saw her..he saw Eve.

————

You were packing away fruits, placing the oranges in an organized pattern so they wouldn’t fall to the floor of the supermarket. He saw you, delicately picking up the spoiled fruits and placing them into the bin to throw away later. You had a small smile on your face that made you look sweet and your fingers were soft, gentle. You looked at each fruit with adoration in your eyes, like you treasured the round balls of nectar as if they were made of gold.

He walked closer to you, still staring intently.

He wondered how you could exist, how you were here with her face, her body, her hair..you were her. It didn’t take long for him to notice the sparkling ring on your wedding finger. But he didn’t care about that, now that he had you, he would never let you go.

Even if you didn’t sound like Eve or looked at him the way she did when she was in love with him, he had to have you.

“Hello, can I help you, sir?” You turned to the man you noticed had been hanging around you for a bit too long.

Your voice was heavenly, it was the best thing he’d ever heard.

You were looking at him, awaiting his answer when you placed an apple onto the shelf. You didn’t see that placing it in that exact spot would cause for another to fall. But Jaehyun already knew.

He quickly knelt down beside you and caught the green apple as it fell.

You looked down at him and gasped. How could he move so quickly.

He stood up straight, still locking eyes with you. A smile creeps across his face.

“Here.” He hands you the apple as you look down at it still in shock.

“Oh..thank you.” You chuckled and took it from him, then started to walk away after feeling..odd.

He walked towards you. “Umm..excuse me, miss? I’m new here, and I just want to know..where can I find the best coffee?”

He looked down at your name tag.

“Y/n..” he says quietly.

His voice is smooth and nice, just as nice as his perfect face, you thought it ought to have been carved by God himself. His jawline was perfect and his eyes were magnetic, you couldn’t look away.

However, you should’ve. You were married after all.

“Oh..hmm about five blocks south, you’ll find Johnny’s Café, it’s quite nice actually.”

Jaehyun wanted to ask you to join him, just so he could talk to you, just so he could get close to you and have you firmly in his grasp, never to let you disappear again. But he didn’t, he decided to wait, if he scared you away, that would only make it worse for not only him, but for you as well. The last thing he wanted was to hold you against your will just because you resembled her.

“Thank you, y/n, I’ll see you next time.” He walked close to you and nodded slowly. As if hypnotized, you never let his eyes go while you nodded.

He walked by you, leaving you breathless and almost star struck, but who was he? Why did he have this interesting glow about him that made him stand out from everyone else?

Later that day, Jaehyun followed you home. His black Lamborghini wasn’t discreet to say the least, so he had to trail behind a few hundred feet. He could see you jamming out to music in your car as you left work.

You were adorable and happy, he loved seeing you like this.

He parked far away from your house, he walked over in a long black trench coat and watched as you went inside. You were greeted by a man that looked like...Adam..

His eyes grew into glowing red orbs, he tried hard to hold back his horns and nails.

“This is God’s idea of a joke, isn’t it?” He spoke to himself. Not only were you the exact replica of Eve, your husband was an exact replica of Adam.

You hugged your husband, Kun, hard and smiled widely, happy to see him after a long day at work.

The door clicks shut and Jaehyun stands there with steam escaping his hot ears. He had to figure out how to get rid of Kun.

————

[The Next Day]

You’re lugging around a large box of lettuce through the aisles when you see him..again.

“Hello, y/n, do you need help?”

You stare at him. “W-what are you doing here?”

He was handsome, you had to admit, your heart couldn’t stop beating like crazy when he showed up. He was stylish in his turtleneck and jean jacket. He smelled refreshing like amber and honey.

“What? A man can’t shop for groceries?” His dimples peeked through as he smiled and tilted his head.

“Oh-no it’s just, two days in a row?”

You furrowed your brows when you sensed something wasn’t right.

Jaehyun could tell that your heart rate was rising because of his presence, you looked around like you were nervous.

“I know, it’s weird, right? But the truth is..I just wanted to see you again..” he said huskily. You felt your chest weaken.

You put the box down and turned to him. “Oh so you’re one of those creeps? Well, I’m flattered but..I’m also married.”

“That’s alright..” he gave a small smile, his dimples showing through again. You turned away.

“So...what are you looking for today?”

“A friend.”

“A friend?” You chuckled.

He swayed from side to side and looked up to the ceiling. “Okay, I’ll get to the point..there’s a..korean barbecue place that I wanted to try..are you free after work?”

He was so strange but had an aura about him that you couldn’t ignore. His features were sharply defined and his eyes never let you go. You should’ve been creeped out but you weren’t, for he was warm and intriguing. Lately, you felt like Kun was so busy with work. You’d get home and wait hours for him, your friends were busy as well as they were either taking college classes or travel king constantly.

Sometimes, you felt you were alone, so why not start something new.

You hummed before answering.

Jaehyun watched your cute expression, the way you looked to the floor and stuck your hands in your apron.

“I guess..I am free after work.” You nodded.

Jaehyun nearly jumped up and down right inside the store. He grinned from ear to ear.

“Just don’t pull any moves, I’m married okay?”

You teased and felt your face become warm.

“I promise I won’t.”

The two of you went to dinner at the Korean barbecue place Jaehyun wanted to try. He was enraptured by you, caught up in your presence. He was so in love and you had no idea.

You told him about places to visit in the city and he told you about where he had come from. He made up a city and a backstory to relate to you, telling you that he had investments that started from his grandparents and that’s how he made money.. He’d do anything just to keep speaking with you, even if it meant lying.

He fought hard to hold back his naturally glowing red eyes and goat-like horns. He had to remain normal so you could become his soon enough.

And when you left him and went home, he stayed outside of your house once again, using his elevated hearing skills to listen to you speak with your husband.

Kun was talking to you about some new project he had in a city about two hours away. You stayed silent, disappointed that he would be gone yet again for a business trip. Kun was the senior architect and had to present, he couldn’t skip out on these trips as much as he wanted to.

“Listen, baby I’m sorry but you know how it is.”

Kun stepped into the bathroom as you brushed your teeth. He took his shirt off as he was about to shower.

You spit water out into the sink and look at your reflection, you were trying hard to hold back your anger. Kun stood behind you and watched you through the mirror with a concerned expression on his face.

“If I knew you were going to be gone all the time, I wouldn’t have married you..”

Kun scoffed. “Don’t say that, you know you don’t mean that, y/n.” He wrapped his arms around your waist and smirked through the mirror.

His hand went to your breast and cupped it.

“I mean it, Kun, how is this supposed to work when we have a family? I want us to both be present for our kids.”

Kun kissed along your neck, he knew you were ticklish.

You started to giggle. “Kun..stop, you’re distracting me.”

“Ahh baby, did you just say “our kids?” Are you trying to tell me something?” He squeezed your breasts gently

You turned to him and kissed his lips. His other hand reached under your frilly nightgown, bunching it up at the waist, and to his satisfaction you wore nothing else under it.

“Should we start right now? Should we have a family?” He brushes his clothed erection into your back as he presses his fingers over you already dripping folds. His deep voice always got you like this.

You gasped and looked at him through the mirror. Soon you were gripping the edge of the counter and crying out his name as he fucked you from behind. He grabbed your hair, pulling your head back so you could look at him through the mirror as you came all over his girthy cock.

Jaehyun heard it all, he imagined it was him bringing you to sweet paradise like he did long ago. He listened to your moans and imagined it was his name you called as your eyes rolled in the back of your head.

It pained him to have to pleasure himself as he imagined all that he would do to you. He was Lucifer, after all. He could have anyone in the dark world pleasure him without even asking twice, but he didn’t want just anyone. He wanted you, and soon he would have you right in his grasp.

————-

[1 Month Later]

Jaehyun was a regular customer at the supermarket you worked at, he’d come in at least once a day. You found it odd that he always knew when your breaks were, so he’d bring you coffee or a snack.

If he didn’t visit during his break, he’d wait for you outside so you’d go to a new place for dinner together after you clocked out.

You spoke about everything. He seemed so smart as he knew about every detail in history and taught you about the world and why things were the way they were.

You watched him intently, your eyes grew when he told you something so interesting, your heart started to race. Like the presence of aliens or ghosts and witches. They all existed and Jaehyun told you all of the evidence as you sat there, stunned.

And then, it was his turn to ask questions.

He finally asked about your husband, even though he knew everything about him.

He knew that he had a short temper sometimes but your fights would either lead to make up sex or him sleeping on the couch. He had watched you every night since finding you. He didn’t sleep, for even the thought of closing his eyes and losing sight of you made him sick to his stomach.

“My husband, Kun, is an architect. He works really hard, but he loves me and I love him. He’s really sweet, I never stop thinking about him. We got married about a year ago, and I couldn’t be happier.” You smiled as you looked down at your hot pot as thought of Kun.

“Ahh..that’s nice..he seems like a supportive partner, during your first year of marriage, have you fought a lot?” Jaehyun tilted his head while smirking.

“Nope! We don’t fight at all, we’re pretty chill, you know?”

You were lying to him and he didn’t like that, but he swallowed hard and smiled nonetheless.

“I see..” he nodded.

He realized that he’d have to work harder to get you to stop thinking about Kun. He’d have to sabotage your current relationship if he ever dreamed of being with you soon.

Killing him would be too easy, he’d have to make Kun so bad, that you’d run to him for relief.

———

[A Week Later]

You kissed Kun goodbye and wished him well for his trip. He quickly kissed you back and walked through the front door without a hug.

“Honey?” You called out to him. “Where’s my hug?” You pouted.

He threw his hand up and continued to walk towards his car. “Sorry, baby, gotta go!”

He had been acting strange these past few days, but you knew he was stressed so you brushed it off. You had had sex the night before but he wasn’t as gentle as he usually was, you could tell something had upset him as he choked you for the first time. You didn’t mind it, you were just surprised by how...different he was.

Little did you know that it was Jaehyun that was making his daily work more difficult. Kun’s important documents and files would go missing right before a presentation, his coworkers weren’t showing up for work, and his boss was always upset with him for some reason. He was starting to dislike his job and he wasn’t sure why, for this was his passion, but lately, everything seemed to be going poorly.

Kun was having difficulty sleeping as well. He’d have disturbing dreams of a place with fire and monsters with sharp teeth. He’d sweat and pant, and eventually be jolted awake in his bed, every night at 3:23 A.M. he’d go downstairs and watch something on TV or write down a few project ideas.

The lack of sleep definitely contributed to his poor mood, but he didn’t tell you for some reason.

Jaehyun watched Kun speed off. He smiled to himself, knowing that his plan was working, he was getting frustrated at work and began taking his anger out on you.

————

[Four Days Later]

You continued to spend time with Jaehyun. You lost track of time as you watched him speak. His dimples were adorable, his voice was intoxicating and you loved staring into his deep brown eyes.

He watches you play with your wedding ring as you nod and smile at him. His smile was like a blooming garden, his laugh was like heavenly trumpets. The two of you were flirting now, and he could tell from your heartbeat that you weren’t really listening to him, instead, you were fantasizing about him. The glances turned into stares.

You watched his lips and licked your own, your face was hot, but you furrowed your brows and looked down at your ring.

What were you doing? Were you getting emotionally attached to him? You couldn’t do this, you couldn’t hurt Kun.

You got up from your seat. “Well, it’s late.. I should go.”

“Noo.. don’t leave yet.” Jaehyun stood up and touched your hand. The disappointed look in his eyes ate away at your heart. You were developing a nice friendship, but a part of you was afraid that it was becoming something more, something that couldn’t be.

“You look stressed. Do you want a drink?..we can visit that new bar in town.” Jaehyun bites his bottom lip.

A drink did sound nice, it had been a while since you and Kun went out to a bar together and sometimes you did miss the atmosphere, you were young after all, everyone else in their early twenties went out.

Jaehyun smiled to himself as he saw you contemplate your options. He knew you were worried about Kun, but he also knew you needed to have some fun.

So you agreed.

The two of you went out to a bar and drank. You laughed and joked around all night. Jaehyun pretended to be affected by the alcohol, just so he could make you laugh and see your beautiful smile.

He dropped you off home at about 1 A.M after you sobered up a bit.

You turned to him and licked your lips. “You know, Jaehyun, if I weren’t married to Kun..I would date you for sure.” You giggled and leaned in close. And all Jaehyun could think was “yes.” He wanted to feel your plump lips so badly, he wanted to caress them and make love to you to relive the best days of his life, but now was not the time.

He backed away and held your hand while searching your eyes. “Y/n...you should go inside now..”

You sighed, nodding as you opened the door to quickly leave before you could embarrass yourself any more.

You go into your house and to your surprise, Kun is there, his face red and stern as he sat on the loveseat in the living room. The room was dark, lit only by a small night light in the corner and the moonlight from outside.

Kun was nearly fired by his boss during his trip. He was upset and frustrated, but what made matters worse was when he went home at 10 PM to see that you weren’t there. Then time went on and you still didn’t come home.

You smirked and put your bag down.

“Babyyyyy.. I missed you.” You start to crawl over his lap slowly.

He can tell from the drawn out tones in your voice that you’re drunk. He winces and turns away.

“Where were you, y/n?”

“Out with a friend..we had some drinks and talked.” You straddle him, placing his crotch in between your legs as you kneel over him. You then lean down and kiss his collarbone.

“Why are you home so late? Is it because you didn’t think I’d be home early?” Kun growled out. He wasn’t amused in the slightest by the way you were acting.

“No, baby, I just wanted to hang out with someone for a little bit, you know? I’m so lonely when you’re not here.”

You try to kiss his lips but he flicks his head to the side.

“Who’s this “friend?”

You gulp and straighten your body. You pout as you look down at him. “Baby, kiss me..don’t you miss me too?” You take the straps of your dress down before unhooking your bra and throwing it to the floor.

Jaehyun watched through an open window behind the loveseat as you kneel over an angry Kun. His eyes glow red and his horns grow out of his head as does the straining member in his pants. You in your drunken haze never noticed the pair of crimson eyes outside.

Kun doesn’t touch you or look at your breasts with nipples begging to be sucked. He wanted to take them into his mouth badly, but he was more focused on another issue at hand.

He wrapped his hand around your throat. “Tell me..their name.”

You smirked. “His name is Jaehyun..but we’re just friends, baby, I promise.”

Kun thrusts himself into you from below, grinding hard against your covered opening. You whimper and move your hips to rub your slit against him.

“Well..stop being friends with him, no guy just wants to be friends with a girl..he wants to fuck you..”

You grind down onto him harder, he squeezes his hand and grips your thigh.

“He doesn’t, he’s really nice and helps me at work sometimes.”

Kun digs his nail into your thigh causing you to cry out in pain. He digs into it so deep, he sees blood from your leg run onto his thumb.

But you reach under your dress and pull his boxers down. You still wanted him in your aching core badly, the pain only added to your yearning.

“Y/n.” He says sternly as he watches you align yourself with his hard cock. You sink down onto him slowly and let out a loud moan as it passes through the sensitive skin and rests deep in your core. You adjust to him quickly as you had already been built up by dry humping him before.

He squeezes your throat again.

“Y/n..”

You move up and down. “Yes..” you call out before licking your lips.

He grabs your waist with both hands and lifts you off of him.

“Kun!” You cry his name after being left empty.

“You’re not gonna get out of this so easily. If you want my cock, tell me you’re done with him.”

“But, baby..”

Kun shakes his head. “Don’t. I’m your husband and you should really take into consideration how I might feel when you spend time with men, when you fucking drink alcohol with men like..like some kinda slut.”

You gasped. “Slut?”

Kun nods. “Look at you, you’re just thirsty for any male attention. I work my ass off for a few days and you’re already looking for a replacement.”

“Kun, that’s not true.” You felt your chest rumble, as if you were about to burst into tears.

He flips you over onto the couch. “I’m your husband, aren’t I?”

You nod.

“Then do as I say, don’t go out with Jaehyun again.”

Before you can protest his thrusts into you hard and begins to choke you again.

He goes hard and fast as you mewl.

“Baby, slower, please.”

He bites your nipple and looks down at you to see your body tremble with each rough thrust he gives you, your lips parting to let out the most heavenly moans, your round breasts moving up and down, your legs bent and spread across the loveseat.

“You’re all mine, right?”

“Yes..fuck, yes.” His thumb on your clit makes you dizzy.

“Then I’m gonna breed you, would you like that? Gonna fuck you so hard and get you pregnant.” Kun grunts into your ear.

Jaehyun grimaces outside of your window. Kun, or Adam rather, hadn’t changed at all. He still believed in a woman’s subordination to her husband. He believed from the beginning of time that a woman should lay under her husband, not above.

And now, he was trying to make you his by breeding you, making it impossible for you to break the link between the two of you. But Jaehyun had to make sure that didn’t happen, he had to stop him before he could do this to you.

————

[Three Days Later]

It’s been three days since that night and you hadn’t shown up to work. Kun made love to you day and night on your time off, he felt threatened by the presence of another male in your life and felt it necessary to remind you why you married him in the first place.

He cooked breakfast for you and bought you nice things. You even went to the movies and ice skating. You enjoyed the time off and Kun’s company, it finally felt like things were getting back to normal. You were happy.

Jaehyun, on the other hand, was furious. He knew where you were, but he couldn’t believe that you had forgotten about him so easily. He didn’t want to get violent, but maybe he would have to.

A few days later, you finally return to work and as usual, Jaehyun was there to bring you a cookie.

“Hey! Where have you been?” He asked as you put bread up on the shelves.

“Oh..I took some time off, Kun came home early so we had a little vacation..thank you for the other night though, I really had a great time.” You finally looked up at him and noticed the slightly crazed look in his eyes. His lips were tightly shut.

“That’s great. Would you like to go out again tonight?” He asks sweetly.

You sigh and shake your head. “Umm...Jaehyun..I can’t..do this..”

His smile starts to fade.

“I-I can’t pretend that we are just friends when I’ve had thoughts about you that I shouldn’t have. I’m married and it’s..really not right for me to get emotionally involved with someone.”

Jaehyun chuckles. “That’s nonsense! We are just friends.”

“But we’re not. Look..it’s best if we end this now, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t come to my work place anymore.”

Jaehyun screams internally. You were really doing as Kun said by cutting him off. Was he that disposable?

A smile still rests on his face.

“As you wish..” he nods and leaves after handing you the cookie he brought.

You swallow hard and sigh. That was harder than you thought it would be, but it felt right. It felt like you could finally focus on your marriage with Kun.

Your day at work ended as it usually did. You closed up and walked to your car, but as you got closer you noticed a figure standing beside it.

It had two red eyes and horns peeking out of its skull.

You slowed down. “Hello?” You called out into the empty parking lot.

The figure stepped out of the shadows and under a street light, that’s when you squinted to make out its familiar features. The red eyes and horns had disappeared.

“Jaehyun?”

He stood there creepily in a long black coat and black pants. His face was unreadable and he stayed silent.

You walked closer. “Jaehyun, what are you doing here?”

“You know..” Jaehyun scratches his head and laughs.

“I think we should grab something to eat.”

“Jaehyun..” you looked to the side and away from his somber face. You were just a few feet away from each other now.

“We’ll just be eating, we don’t even have to talk.” Jaehyun stepped forward and pleaded.

He didn’t want to lose you, he couldn’t lose you, not after all this time when he had finally gotten so close.

“I can’t, Kun is waiting for me.” You looked up at him with wide eyes.

Jaehyun felt his body tremble whenever you looked at him like that.

He suddenly leaned forward and kissed your lips hard. You fell into him for a brief moment, but then realized what was happening. You quickly bit his lip and pulled away.

“Jaehyun!” You rubbed your lip. “What the hell?!”

He licked the blood on his lips and frowned after your warmth disappeared.

“I’m sorry, I just-“ he reached out for you again but you backed away and opened your car in a rush.

“Leave me alone! I never want to see you again!”

Jaehyun only watched as you scurried into your car seat and locked the car doors.

He banged on the window hard, you jumped from the sound for you were terrified by him. You saw a dark flint in his eyes that you’d never seen.

Tears ran down your cheeks as you put the car in drive.

You sped out of the parking lot and away from him.

“I’ll never let you go, y/n, now that I have you..I’ll never let you go.” He whispered to himself.

————-

[1 Month Later]

The honeymoon feeling you felt with Kun soon dissipated as things went back to how they’d usually been. He spent his time at work and would come home upset, some nights he didn’t even speak to you. He looked sleep deprived and when you asked him about it, he’d have a fit and say he’s fine.

Some nights he wouldn’t look at you, you couldn’t remember the last time you had made love.

He was always short with you, but lately, you found it increasingly difficult to deal with his negative mood. Is this really who you wanted to be married to?

Jaehyun had been messing with him, he’d purposely make every day difficult for him. Kun couldn’t sleep most nights, but when he did, Jaehyun made sure to fill his mind with dark scenes to scare him. Sometimes he’d throw in false images of you making love to a faceless man. It gave Kun the feeling that he was walking in on you cheating on him. He would wake up from these nightmares but they felt so real, he couldn’t ignore how upset they made him.

Kun was paranoid, he felt like someone was out to get him and he didn’t know who it could be, but he didn’t trust even you as much as he did three months ago.

Then one night, you came home late because of a terrible thunderstorm and traffic. You were only about an hour late, but Kun was already home and steaming on the couch.

“Where were you?” He asked as soon as you entered the house.

You exhaled loudly. “Oh, so now you speak to me.”

“Yeah, I’m speaking to you, I’m asking a fucking question.”

You raised your brows. “And who are you to talk to me like that?”

“I’m your husband, or did you forget that when you fucked him tonight?” Kun bit back as he sat up in the chair.

Your face wrinkled as you placed your bag down.

“What are you talking about?”

“Jaehyun..do you think I’m some kind of idiot? I know you’re still seeing him.”

You scoffed. “Wowww Kun.”

You walk away to the kitchen to get some water.

“No, don’t “wowww” me, tell me I’m lying!” His voice started to raise, he walked into the kitchen after you.

“Kun..you sound ridiculous right now, I’m late because there’s a thunderstorm, or do you not hear it just like you don’t hear your phone ringing when I call you?” You asked sarcastically.

“If you’re gonna be late, you should tell me.”

You gulped down your water. “I don’t have to report anything to you! You’re not my king or whatever you think you are.”

“I’m your husband! And you should treat me like a king because look at this house, you wouldn’t be in it if it weren’t for me.”

Your eyes widened. “Are you really holding the house over my head? Wow Kun, you’ve really hit rock bottom, haven’t you?”

Kun chuckles. “Maybe Jaehyun lives somewhere nice, why don’t you go to him since I’m not your king.”

“Okay, here we go again, why are you so insecure, Kun?!”

The two of you went back and forth that night. You broke down in tears as Kun said hurtful things that left you stunned.

“I want a divorce!” You yelled and stormed out.

You jumped into your car and drove away, you didn’t know where you were going to go, but you knew you needed to be away from him.

You dialed up Jaehyun who had heard the entire conversation from outside of your house.

“Hello?” He said with the faked tone of confusion in his voice.

“Jaehyun..I need to see you.”

You drove to his house.

It was an incredibly large mansion, and when you went inside, the walls were lined with gold and red velvet curtains. It looked beautiful, unreal almost.

You wondered how Jaehyun could live in an expensive place at such a young age.

Jaehyun looked at your magnificent face as your mouth dropped open.

“Investments.” He smirked.

You laughed and looked back at him. His eyes were warm, his smile was bright.

He could tell you had been crying so once in the foyer he steps close to you and searches your wet eyes.

He runs his thumb along your cheek as you gaze up at him.

“What happened, love?”

You shook your head. “It’s Kun..we fought, I just..I don’t know, Jaehyun, I don’t think we can make it.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, y/n..”

“I love him, I really do but..” you look to the side and sniffle.

“Is he controlling, y/n?”

Your eyes flicker up to him. You nod slowly.

“Is he the reason why you stopped hanging out with me?”

You nod again.

Jaehyun purses his lips. “Y/n..he’s threatened by you, he doesn’t want you to be independent now that you’re married. He wants to control you and that isn’t a partnership. That isn’t love.”

Your eyes brim with tears once again. “Jaehyun..I don’t want to think about him right now...I want to feel loved, can you do that for me?”

Jaehyun’s dark soul nearly escapes his body. “Of course.”

You place both hands on his head and kiss him slowly and sensually. You both close your eyes as you fall into him more, his arms wrapping around you to bring you closer to him. He wants to become one with you, feel you, smell you, to be completely enraptured by you for eternity.

Time stood still and your heart fluttered as it was finally being satisfied by something it had craved from the first moment you met Jaehyun.

He too felt everything slow down to a crawl, your lips tasted like the sweetest fruit, your hands were soft like plush blankets.

He pulls away to breathe, his hot breath hitting your now swollen lips. “So beautiful” he whispers into them, then kisses you again in the dim lighting of his house.

He takes you into his arms and carries you to one of his many bedrooms.

“I will take you higher than the heavens themself, just give in to me.” He whispers softly.

He lays you down gently onto the fluffy bed and watches as you relax into it, your hair looking gorgeous as it lays against the white sheets, your neck just begging for soft kisses or hastily made bite marks, cute nose and round, swollen lips. He looks into your wide eyes and smiles. “You’re stunning.” He kicks his shoes off and crawls over you.

You giggled and held him by the hem on his shirt. “Jaehyun...kiss me.”

He leaned down and kissed you as you asked. He was transported back to when your name was Eve and the two of you made love in the garden. Your lips taste the same as hers, your skin feels the same, your touch and everything else was the same. Jaehyun was more than pleased to finally be experiencing your love again.

You start to take your pants down your legs and eventually kick them off. Jaehyun takes his clothes off as well, then watches you take your hoodie off to reveal your breasts.

Without hesitation, he lays his tongue flat against the perky nub, coating it with his spit. He then swirls his tongue around it while he massages the other breast that he hasn’t tasted yet.

You moan and run your fingers through his hair.

His fingers press onto your thigh, then work their way to your sensitive skin between your legs. You tremble as they brush lightly against it.

You arch your back, telling him silently that you want him to go further. He sucks your nipples harder and listens to another moan leave your beautiful lips.

He takes two fingers and uses them to part your folds. He circles his fingertips around your entrance to collect the liquid that has formed from you being so turned on already.

He kisses the skin in between your breasts.

“You taste so sweet.”

He pushes his fingers into you slowly, your legs widen a bit to adjust to him. His fingers are long and slender, but it doesn’t take much time before his knuckles hit your most sensitive part.

“Jaehyun..” you exhale.

His fingers glide in and out of you slowly, he curls his finger tips to press right onto the fleshy spot that makes your head spin. He flicks his tongue across your breast as his fingers work on your needy area.

He looks up at you through low eyes, your dainty fingers grasping onto the sheets tightly.

“So-so close.” You whimper.

His fingers move faster, pressing onto your clenching walls as you get closer.

He then kneels and looks down at you as his fingers still move back and forth.

He licks his lips and lowers his face to the apex of your open legs. He flicks his tongue across you slit now, combining the action of his tongue with his finger to drive you crazy.

He moves his tongue in circular motions onto your clit as his finger moves in faster and presses onto your g-spot harder.

His long tongue flattens onto you repeatedly.

You cry out his name one final time before cumming onto his fingers. He continues to rub his nose onto your clit and lick inside you as you climax and shake.

You try to push your body up away from him, but he holds your waist down firmly and continues to eat you out.

“Jaehyun!” You look down at him to see his eyes, almost with a glint of red in them, looking up at you sternly.

He places a kiss onto your folds then crawls over you to face you. He licks his lips.

“Y/n, my love, I will never force you to bow down to me, you are my queen, you always have been. I will not lose you like I did so long ago.”

You’re slightly confused, but you nod and kiss him. He lays down beside you and takes your waist into his hands as his tongue now dances with yours.

He brings your body over on top of his.

Your skin becomes littered with goose pimples as he runs his hands up and down your thighs.

You kneel over his intimidating length and take in a sharp breath while running your hands along his chest and abs. He, too, was magnificent, like a painting or sculpture come to life.

He takes your hand in his and watches your naked body above him.

He remembered the first time you made love, you rode him that time too, bringing him to his most memorable orgasm of all time.

You sink down onto him slowly, your head falling back instantly.

You couldn’t stop your pussy from clenching around him as he stretched you out so well and stimulated you just from being halfway in.

He pushes up into you to help you. You feel his cock buried deep inside you, running against your silky walls and pressing onto your sweet spot once more.

He curved into you so perfectly. You bite your lips and swivel your hips as you move up and down. He grabs your ass and brings it down onto him.

He groans when you quiver around him and it is a low sound that you’ve never heard before, it’s almost animalistic.

But it’s hot, and pushes you closer to the edge.

Jaehyun watched your body shimmer in the low, warm lighting of the room. Your face is adorable, your skin is soft and glistens, you smell like vanilla. He wished he could have you like this forever, gliding down onto him, your breasts moving up and down as you whimper and moan from the feeling of his cock stretching you out.

You are his Heaven.

He thrusts up into you harder. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as does your groans and cries.

Jaehyun fits you so perfectly, you’re on the brink of tears, you're weak and ride him sloppily as you chase your high.

Jaehyun knows this and flips you over onto your back in a swift move. He places your legs onto his shoulders and pushes into you. His hips slap against yours as he kisses you again.

He uses his ability to grow even more while inside you.

His eyes glow red but your eyes are closed as he fucks into you from above now.

“Jaehyun..fuck..” Tears escape your eyes. Your pussy clenches uncontrollably around his cock.

He runs his palm onto your belly and feels his cock twitch in the pit of your stomach. “I’m so deep inside you, do you like feeling me? Do you want me to release deep inside you?”

He moves faster.

You arch your back. “Fill me up, please, I want you inside me so badly.” You whimper out.

Jaehyun licks his thumb and places it onto your clit. He licks your breast again and sucks hard.

You cum hard and shake.

He climaxes as well, cumming deep inside you as you let out a stream of curses. You had never orgasmed so hard, but something about Jaehyun has you trembling for several minutes. He was able to deliver pleasure just as he was able to deliver pain in the underworld.

He rubs his thumb along the side of your sweaty face while watching his cum leak out of you.

“My love..would you like me to fuck you again?”

His voice is gravelly, but confident, for he already knows the answer.

You nod and within a few milliseconds you’re on your chest with your ass up in the air. Jaehyun pounds you into the bed and has you calling out his name several times that night.

You fall asleep after climaxing many times. You felt amazing, like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. Jaehyun held you in his arms and cuddled you to sleep.

“Y/n..I’m happy you’re mine now.”

————

[The Next Day]

Jaehyun woke up to see that you left him, you had snuck out and drove back home.

You left a note for him explaining that you couldn’t be in a relationship with him for your heart belonged to Kun.

“Thank you for being here for me, I am sorry for coming to you during my weakest moment. I hope you will respect my wish to not see you again, as I must remain steady in my marriage to Kun.

With Love, Y/n”

Jaehyun crumbles up the note and sets fire to it in his hands. His horns grow large and his eyes beam red, furious is an understatement.

How could you do this to him? He made love to you, gave you the best love you’d ever had and you still went back to him.

He would make sure to ruin Kun, for if he couldn’t have you, no one else should.

————

[3 Months Later]

Jaehyun was still hurt by you leaving him that night, but he knew there was nothing he could do. A part of him wanted you to be happy, but a part of him wanted to destroy Kun so he could have you all to himself.

He had planned to get rid of him until he discovered that you were pregnant. He wasn’t sure if the baby was his or Kun’s, but he did know that if he were to kill Kun you would potentially lose the baby from devastation. He couldn’t do that to you, he couldn’t cause that pain even if he was satisfied by Kun’s death.

So he watches you from afar, imagining once again that it was him preparing for a baby instead of Kun.

The two of you looked happy, maybe it was the child that was making things different.

Either way, he hated seeing you so happy without him.

————

[8 Months Later]

You give birth to your son. You and Kun raise it together and take turns watching it during the night.

One day, Jaehyun visits you while you cradle the baby at home alone.

You open the door and your smile falls.

Jaehyun, however, smiles harder when he sees your pretty face, glowing from the post pregnancy hormone changes.

Seeing you like this makes him want to get you pregnant all over again.

“J-Jaehyun?” You hadn’t seen him since that night, but he still looked good.

“Y/n..it’s been so long, hasn’t it?”

Something about him being there after so much time made you uneasy.

“Well..can I come in?” Jaehyun gives a half smile.

You nod and let him in.

You hold your baby and sit in a rocking chair. “So..what brings you here?”

“I’m here to see my child of course!”

Your brows furrow. “YOUR..child?”

Jaehyun smirks and steps closer to you. He smiles to himself as he looks at the baby.

“Come on, y/n, did you forget how many times I buried my seed into your beautiful cunt that night?”

You shook your head. “Don’t speak like that, please. I was weak, I-I was sad and broken..”

“Of course, but you loved it, you loved all of it.” He looked up to the ceiling and shut his eyes.

“I can still hear your moans right now.”

“Kun is the father, Jaehyun..this isn’t up for debate.”

“And if he’s not?” He tilts his head and looks back down at you.

“Well, he is. I’ll raise this child with my husband, regardless of who the biological father is, we have no place for you in this house.”

“Tsk tsk...keeping me away from my own child? Y/n..that’s not very nice of you, my love.”

“Don’t call me that!” Your voice rose slightly. “We had one night together, I don’t want to be with you, I will never be yours.”

“You’re already mine, y/n, you always will be, don’t you understand, after all these years?”

You shook your head. “Jaehyun.. you’re crazy. I’d like you to leave.”

You reached your hand out to grab your phone.

Jaehyun sees that you're nervous and chuckles to himself. “Oh..y/n..you’ve really made me upset. I guess I will just have to embrace my nature.”

He shuts the front door as you stare intently.

You always had a fear that the baby might be his, but how did he know you were pregnant in the first place?

————

[Two Days Later]

Jaehyun summons Lilith.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure?”

She appears to him with a slim body and dark hair this time. Her face is perfect like one of some celebrity, but God cursed Jaehyun’s vision so that when he looks at Lilith, he can only see an ugly monster.

“I need you to take it.”

Jaehyun demands as sits on his throne in Hell. He tosses an apple in the air.

“Seduce the man and come back with the baby.”

“And what do I get out of it?” She places her hand on her hip.

“Nothing. But if you don’t do it, I will rip your fucking head off.” He looks up at her slowly. “Is that a good enough reason for you?”

Lilith scoffs then goes to do as she is told.

She appears to Kun who is half asleep on the couch in the living room. It’s his turn to watch the baby, so he can’t sleep completely.

“Hey there, big boy.” She says smoothly and crawls over him.

“Who—who are you?”

“My name’s Lilith.” She zips her leather jacket down to reveal her bare chest. “You look lonely, sweetheart.”

Kun is hypnotized by her, he doesn’t know if he’s awake or asleep, but he does know that he wants her badly.

“Do you want to fuck me?” Lilith asks with doe eyes as she looks up at him and pumps her breasts.

Kun nods and soon finds himself enraptured by a succubus, burying himself into her and thus falling into her trap as you, his wife, lay sound asleep in the room above.

Once Lilith brings Kun to an extraordinary climax, he falls asleep.

She then walks upstairs slowly to the baby room.

Her appealing looks disappear and she transforms into her true being, a disturbingly ugly monster with grey skin and long legs and arms. Her bones crack as she grows to about 6 feet 6 inches tall, her black hair falls out onto the floor and her jaw protrudes as her eyes glow red. She smells like rotten eggs as green liquid oozes out of her pores and eyes.

She stares at the baby sleeping soundly in its crib.

You, however, wake up from the crackling sound.

“Kun?” You murmur.

You get up and walk to the baby room.

You nearly pass out from the stench and feel your legs grow weak when you see the ghastly being standing over your baby.

“Hey!” You call out, but when the thing turns around, it already has your baby in its arms. A wide creepy smile filled with about twenty sharp and misshapen teeth creeps across its face.

You start to cry. “Put him down!”

You run towards it but it disappears.

You grasp the crib and look into it, shifting the blankets around before looking under it.

Your baby was nowhere to be found.

You let out a painful scream that Jaehyun, and even your neighbors could hear and fell to the floor.

Kun finally woke up and ran upstairs. He consoled you as you cried uncontrollably.

———-

[One Month Later]

The police and everyone in the neighborhood helped you to search for your baby, but nothing happened.

You tried to explain that night so many times, but nothing made sense and people just thought you were crazy.

Even Kun. He left you soon after the incident, the heartbreak was too much for him and he didn’t trust you. So he left you, moving further away and starting a new life without you as the divorce papers started to process.

You were alone, you couldn’t deal with the loss of your child. You sat alone at a pond and cried until you couldn’t cry anymore.

Jaehyun knew your time was running out, he knew you’d pass and eventually come to him to live with him in the dark world.

Your heart breaks and you die of sadness at the edge of the pond.

Your soul slips away from your body.

Jaehyun is there watching as you stare down at it in confusion.

“Jaehyun?”

“Hello, y/n.”

“Where am I?”

“You’re with me now, where you should be.” He smiles as he goes to take your hand, but his hand passes through.

Jaehyun looks in confusion at his hand.

“Can you see me?” You ask.

“Of course I can. I should be able to touch you too, but..” he turns away and looks at his hand which is still vibrating like it had just been shocked with electricity.

“What’s happening?”

He turns back to you, but you’re gone.

“Oh, Lucifer..” a male voice calls out to him.

“You thought you had it all figured out, didn’t you? You would have her die then bring her to hell to live with you forever..”

“Winwin?” He recognizes the angel in front of him.

“I wish I could say it’s nice to see you again, but it really isn’t.”

“What the hell is going on? She’s mine!” He grows angry, his eyes becoming red and his horns growing out in harmony with his black wings.

“No, she isn’t. She belongs with us, remember God will always win.” Winwin smirks.

“No..no they can’t do this to me again!”

“Of course they can! Goodbye, LuLu!” Winwin then spins and disappears.

Jaehyun curses and shouts loudly, so loudly that the heavens can hear him. You can hear him, but now you realized who he really was and why he was so infatuated with you. It broke your heart that he went to such lengths to hold onto you, but now you knew that he was nothing but evil.

Jaehyun could feel you, he could sense you everywhere and sometimes he could see you, but he could never touch you again. He would have to live eternally as a tortured individual that lost his love 3 times.

“Well, at least you have the child.” Lilith looks at her nails as Jaehyun thrashes about in hell.

“What will you name him?”

Jaehyun smooths his hair back and walks to the crib that the baby sleeps in. “His name..is Cain.”

2K notes · View notes

honeytae · 3 years

Text

No cream, no sugar.

hey bubs! i’m back with some ultra fluff :) honestly i don’t even know what this is, but i just really want a nice little coffee date with min yoongi....and that’s all. soft and shy college!yoon makes the reader swoon over him (obviously) and they just have a nice little first meeting here. i hope you all enjoy! tags: @ahgasearmyfan, @hoseokayy genre: fluff (college! au) word count: 2.2k

The warm air of the cafe embraced you when you stepped inside, bell chiming over your head as your shoulders loosened at the familiar scent of frosted pastries and hot coffee. Scanning the empty tables, you breathed a sigh of relief, knowing you’d be able to get your work done in peace without any loud acquaintances bugging you.

You’d already tried the library, and that had been enough of a disaster for the few minutes you stayed.

Quickly shuffling over to the counter, you readjusted the strap of your bag, guiding it back up your sore shoulder as you quickly rambled off your coffee order.

Ugh, these books are heavy.

You graciously smiled once the barista set your cup down on the counter, thanking her with a nod before making your way to a vacant table across the room.

You weren’t one to typically do your schoolwork anywhere but the desk placed beside your bed. However, with the way your roommates had been bickering lately, you hadn’t been able to get a thing done there. And since the library was always full of guys obnoxiously trying to pounce on every living breathing female, that wasn’t exactly an option either.

Pulling out your textbook, you set it on the table with a huff, dread filling you at the dizzying words and numbers on the page. Taking a breath, you rolled your shoulders back in an attempt to calm yourself before tugging your notebook out of your bag and heading a title for your notes.

You were four pages in before you heard the bell chime to indicate another customer entering, a slight feeling of disappointment filling you at the thought of anybody coming in to disturb the peace you’d built before the feeling seemed to vanish at once, instead replaced with a slight giddiness at the man who’d just stepped into the building.

Min Yoongi.

You knew of him, but not much. You knew that he stayed away from parties, he lived off-campus and seemed to just stick to his own thing.

Most importantly, you knew there was no need to worry about him since he was so quiet himself. In fact, he seemed to dodge any kind of unnecessary social interaction, so he’d probably be taking off with his coffee in a matter of minutes.

Logistically, that’s all you knew about him. But you also knew he was super cute, and you had a definite budding crush on him.

Deep brown eyes peeked out from underneath his beanie, dark hair swept over his forehead occasionally shifting to cover his irises, to which his nimble fingers almost immediately brushed the strands aside.

The apples of his cheeks moved along with his mouth as he mumbled an order you couldn’t quite hear, causing you to lean a bit further onto your elbow in order to hopefully hear the next thing he said.

He had pale skin, a stark contrast to the dark hair color he was sporting, but his cheeks were a soft glow of pink, lips pouted slightly as he patiently waited for the barista to make his coffee.

You knew it was rude to stare, but christ, you swore he was the prettiest human you’d ever seen. He had effortlessly put you in a trance.

Seeming to sense your eyes on him, the man turned to you, briefly catching your eyes before you diverted them back to your work on the table.

Way to go, idiot.

You swore you could feel your heart beating out of your chest with the knowledge that you’d been caught red handed, cheeks burning as you clutched onto your pencil.

Scribbling down a few random loops, you tried your hardest to act occupied, only halting your actions when you heard footsteps approaching your table.

Peeking to the side, you confirmed that there were a pair of roughed-up sneakers beside the legs of your table, eyes trailing up the torn pair of jeans and oversized hoodie adorning the figure to meet his dreamy chocolate orbs.

“Hi,” Yoongi smiled, holding up a little white pastry bag, “I saw you eyeing the display case so I just, picked up a few things since you look kind of busy.” He said shyly, offering it out to you with a slanted grin.

Your eyes quickly shifted to the display case behind him, realizing that when you were staring at him, you could in fact pass it off as looking at the display case. Whether he genuinely thought that or not, you had no idea.

“Oh, thank you.” You smiled back, hand brushing his for a moment as he transferred the bag to you. His fingers were warm, touch electrifying, causing your chest to erupt in butterflies as you now clutched the bag.

His other hand held a lidded coffee cup, steam rising from the small mouth hole at the top.

Peeking into the bag, you noticed multiple pastries stacked inside, grinning at the variety he had chosen.

“Uh, Yoongi,” you spoke up, watching his eyebrows raise in surprise. Did he not know you knew his name? Did he even know your name?

“Do you want some? I mean, I can’t eat all this myself so,” You found yourself stumbling for an explanation, immediately relaxing when he easily nodded with a smile of his own.

“Sure. I skipped breakfast anyway, so,” he shrugged, you nodding in encouragement as he lowered himself down into the chair across the high top table from you.

Pushing your notebook aside, you opened the bag of pastries, spreading them out atop the paper material with a raise of your brows.

“These look really fucking good.” You said without thinking, covering your mouth with a muffled noise as you realized you’d sworn.

Yoongi, to your surprise, broke out into a full-on grin, shoulders shaking in a quiet chuckle as he switched his gaze to the pastries you’d laid out.

“They do.” He agreed, smile fading as he slid back into his cool demeanor.

You were instantly captivated by the man, the way his face melted into a smile, the way the apples of his cheeks pushed up and made his eyes wrinkle slightly, the sparkle in his orbs.

Clearing your throat, you drew his attention again, properly introducing yourself with a murmur of your name. You nearly passed out in your chair as the man chuckled again, eyes glittering at you as he nodded in response.

“I know you.” He smiled, taking you by surprise as your shoulders eased slightly. It was nice to know he wasn’t laughing at you, at least not in a mean way.

“We had some classes together last semester, right?” He asked, raising his eyebrows for you to confirm as he held a glazed danish in his left hand.

“Yeah, that’s right.” You nodded, surprised he remembered as you watched him munch on the treat.

You watched as his eyes pointed out the window, studying his beautiful side profile as his cheek filled adorably with the danish in his hand.

His eyelashes fanned out in front of him, blinking every few moments as his orbs flitted over the street outside. The slope of his nose was perfect, a round end meeting his pout that seemed to lift a bit at whatever he was looking at outside.

Realizing you were being completely rude with all your staring, you shifted your attention to the notes on the edge of the table, scanning them with only the sound of clinking of dishes from the kitchen in the background.

The man didn’t seem to be one for conversation, which was not entirely a shock to you. The silence was surprisingly comfortable though, which was a shock to you. Both of you nonchalantly munched on pastries, your gaze fixated on your work as you tried to take in all the information you’d read up on over the past hour.

“You taking Stats this year?”

His soft voice interrupted the silence, causing you to glance up to see his own eyes pointed at your notebook, squinting at the figures to make them out from his upside-down angle.

“Yeah,” you nodded, then sighed, “sadly.”

Yoongi’s lips quirked a bit at that, smile lasting a bit longer than the last one as he leaned over further to check out your notes. The action caused a wave of his cologne to hit your nostrils, a sweet herbal smell mixed with the cotton scent of his detergent.

It fit the man so well, his shy yet soft demeanor being as comforting as the spray he’d put on his neck this morning.

“God, I remember that.” He seemed to say to himself before leaning back in his chair, hands holding his coffee secure on the tabletop.

“It’s horrible. Not that Doctor O. is any help.” You mumbled, face lighting up slightly at the sound of Yoongi’s chuckle again.

“Yeah, he sucks.” He agreed, taking a sip of his coffee as he seemed to internally debate his next words.

“If you ever, uh,” He stumbled, frowning before he tried again, “if you ever need any help, I’ve taken that course before, so,” He offered with a shrug of his shoulders, so casually shy about the extension for help that you nearly pouted at the endearing man.

“Thank you.” You smiled, the man nodding politely as he watched you tap the eraser end of your pencil against the table, your actions pausing as you realized he was tuned into it.

“Sorry.” You chuckled, the man shaking his head to dismiss your apology with a small grin.

Reaching for your iced latte, you sipped the cold liquid from the straw, frowning slightly at the cup when you realized it was nearly gone.

“You’re fine.” His teeth shone at you, eyes filled with something mirroring endearment as they traced over your features. You felt flustered under his gaze, diverting your eyes to the coffee cup in his hand and gesturing to it.

“What’d you get?” You asked, the man’s own eyes shifting to the cup before he raised it in front of his face.

“Just coffee.” He responded, causing you to tip your head at him in confusion.

“No cream, no sugar.” He elaborated, causing your face to twist in disgust, Yoongi’s face lighting up at your reaction.

“What’s that for?” He raised his eyebrows in amusement, another smile greeting you as you chuckled in response, raising your eyebrows back at him.

“I think I’d rather take ten more years of Doctor O’s class than drink a single sip of plain black coffee.” You grimaced, Yoongi’s laugh causing your face to crinkle into another smile as you bit into one of the doughnuts he’d brought for you.

The conversation flowed with ease after that.

You discussed all the biggest campus scandals, rolled your eyes about all the same teachers, laughed about the one time Yoongi had gone to a party and ended up having to carry his two abliterated best friends home.

“That scene isn’t really for me.” He followed the story up with, making you nod in understanding as you waited for him to talk more.

You talked about your hobbies, finding out that you actually did have a lot in common. You both wrote in your free time, loved sleep, and were just trying to make it.

You were both broke college students, working multiple jobs to keep up with the cost of your educations. He picked up any hours he could get at a bookstore just down the road, which made you feel warm and fuzzy while imagining him in that position.

It was another thing that fit perfectly, the vision of him in a calm and quiet bookstore surrounded by endless shelves of novels.

He liked to read, he said, but he didn’t have much free time nowadays to read anything other than his textbooks. You sighed in agreement then, feeling a reprieve from trying to act as if you weren’t buried shoulders high in work to get your degree.

You felt a peculiar sense of comfort with Yoongi despite this being your first conversation, his voice gentle and thoughts genuinely intriguing as you’d not heard him speak much before today.

Suddenly, the man seemed to remember something as he moved to retrieve his cell phone from his pocket, squinting at the screen under the table.

“Oh shit, I have to go. 5 o’clock lecture.” He muttered as he looked at the time on his phone, tone sounding slightly disappointed as he shoved the device back in his pocket.

You watched as he took your pencil between his fingers, clutching it to scribble a small set of numbers at the top of your notes.

“If you ever need help, or, just want to talk shit about Doctor O.” He explained with another shrug, placing the pencil down in its previous spot on your notebook as you smiled in response.

“Thank you, Yoongi.” You said, the man picking his almost empty coffee cup off the table with a slanted smile, your eyes remaining on him as he stood from his seat.

“I look forward to our next coffee shop shit-talking.” You leaned on the heels of your palms to look up at him, the man humming with a small grin.

“Me too. Same time next week?” He smirked, erupting into a smile when you agreed.

“See you then.”

Hiding your smile behind your hand, you watched as he waddled cutely toward the exit, pushing his shoulder against the door and sending a final smile and wave your way as he exited the cafe.

Perhaps you had some fond feelings for Min Yoongi.

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